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Chapter Twenty-Three

Gabriel

I keep wondering when this is going to pass. This bravery and lack of self-control. It’s strange behavior coming from me. Not for the first time, I’m wondering if I’ve developed bipolar disorder. Or maybe I’ve had it for years and never knew. Where I’m at right now, it’s definitely an up for me. I can’t say I’ve ever felt depressed before, but maybe I had and didn’t know any better? I feel like I don’t know anything anymore. Except I am wondering if I was a little too confident when I told Storm I’d planned on sucking him off.

I’m getting all in my head about it, which is what I was trying to avoid. I told him I can’t think about it too much or it’ll ruin it. It’s true, because it’s what’s happening now. He’s in the shower, washing up, and when he gets out, I plan on going for it. Just… doing it. Only now I’m wondering if that’s a great idea. Though he showered, how well did he clean? Will he use the bathroom after he washed? I’m going to put him in my mouth, get my saliva all over him, then lick it off? Licking up my own saliva… that doesn’t sound great. And what about the cum? There’s so much of it. It’s sticky and makes a wicked mess. I’ve witnessed it myself. There’s no way I’m going to swallow all of that, so what do I do with it? Where will it go?

“Are you okay?”

I jump, putting my hand on my chest.

“No, I don’t think so,” I answer honestly, because that’s what I said I would do. Communicating isn’t easy for me, mostly because I’ve always been judged for what comes out of my mouth when I’m honest. Even Marta judges me sometimes, but it’s not malicious, which makes it easier to handle. Though there are things I still haven’t told her in fear of her reaction.

I feel that way with Storm now. At first, I was open and honest about some things, but held back a lot, not wanting to be judged and have him hate me. I don’t want to live with someone who hates me. But now that we’ve somehow gone into this territory, experimenting sexually with one another, I know the only way things will work out is if I am brutally honest with him. The thought hurts. It physically hurts my chest. But I have to do my best or I’m going to end up worse. I like this too much to end it. I’ll suffer through the pain because it will eventually go away. This will get easier.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, sitting on the edge of his bed and patting beside him for me to sit too.

I don’t, but I do explain.

“You took too long in the shower and now I’m overthinking this whole thing.”

“We don’t have to do this, Gabriel. My hand works just fine.” He holds it up to show me.

“Yes, but I wanted to do this. It’s only fair.”

“Fair? That’s a weird way to put it. You can’t want to do it because it’s fair.”

“Why else would I do it?”

He raises a brow, giving me a look like it was a stupid question.

“Because you want to get me off? Because you like making me feel good?”

Oh. Yeah, that makes sense, doesn’t it?

“I guess… I guess I don’t know if I like that because I’ve never done it before.”

He nods, then smirks at me and gets to his feet, dropping his towel. My gaze goes right between his legs, to his semi-hard dick. I’ve seen it enough times now to not be terrified, but this is new and I’m not sure that thing could ever go in my mouth. Even if I am curious about what it would feel like and taste like.

“We’re going to test something,” he says, getting back on the bed and lying on his back.

“What?” I ask.

“I’m going to get myself off. You’re going to watch. If you like what you see, if you decide that you want to be the one to make me feel like this? You can blow me tomorrow.”

“You want me to watch?” I ask, my dick already swelling. This isn’t surprising, as the day I caught him touching himself was the first morning I woke up with cum in my pants from a wet dream. I hadn’t wanted to accept that’s what it was then, but I know now that’s what it was.

I’m attracted to him. My body’s reaction to him makes that obvious. I’m excited to watch him. I like this idea.

With a nod gesturing toward the chair in the corner of the room, he says, “Sit there. Watch me. Do not get up, do not touch yourself.”

My pants grow tight around my crotch as I walk over to the chair.

“If you listen,” he begins, running his tongue along his lips. “I’ll suck your cock when I finish.”

I like that. A lot, actually. It’s been more than a day since I’ve come, and I am eager for it again. I feel like a teenage boy who has figured out masturbation for the first time. Well, I guess that’s sort of what I am, only the age is different. Now I understand all the jokes about boys going through puberty.

Sitting in the chair, I lean back and get comfortable. Storm uncaps the lubrication and pours some into his hand before lathering it all over his dick.

I find watching him more difficult than him watching me. I feel weird doing this, like it’s something I’m not supposed to be doing, and that has me thinking all sorts of weird things and having to force my mother’s voice out of my head.

It doesn’t take long for Storm to make sounds. Low moans, heavy breathing. The wet, slicked sounds of his hand going up and down on his length are also kind of sexy. I switch from watching his face to his hand. I like both, enjoy everything I’m seeing. The more he gets into it, the less I think about how weird this feels and just enjoy it.

He cups his balls with his free hand, squeezing gently and tugging as he jerks off with the other. A quick pace, focusing mostly around the head. I’m so hard now, and desperate for him to touch me. My hands twitch, wanting to touch myself. I think of crawling on the bed to get a better look, but he told me not to move. If I move, I won’t get my reward and I really want my reward. Next time, I’ll have to ask if I can lie on the bed with him to get a better look.

“Fuck,” he hisses, hips moving off the bed to thrust harder into his hand. His moans grow louder, and the muscles in his arms tense. He has a beautiful body. It’s a work of art. More defined than mine, but overall not much bigger. Just shaped a little differently.

“You like watching me, Gabriel?” he asks in a raspy tone.

He’s been calling me Gabriel a lot lately, and I really like it.

“Yes,” I manage to say.

“Like the sounds I’m making?”

“Very much.”

“I’ll make these sounds for you, you know.” He groans, still working his dick. “When my cock is in your mouth, and you’re sucking it so fucking good, I’ll moan for you. I’ll say your name. Tell you how good you feel.”

I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, the only thing holding me back is the threat of him not touching me if I move. I don’t know if he’s lying or not. If it’s just something he said to get me to do what he wants, but I can’t risk it. I need to come right now. I have no patience for this, I’ve learned. When I’m hard, I need to get off. I need it.

“Are you going to come?” I whisper.

“Yes,” he says. “I’m so close, Gabriel. So fucking close.”

My chest heaves, my eyes glued to where his hand strokes his dick. I hardly blink, not wanting to miss when he comes. I want to see it, see what it looks like. See if it’s the kind of dirty he said is a sexy dirty. I’d prefer he just say this isn’t dirty at all, because I don’t think it is. It is messy though, and there’s no way around that. My water bill is about to go up because we’re going to be taking a lot more showers in this house. Now that I’m watching him like this, my appetite for him is going to increase. I don’t just want my dick touched now; I want to touch his, too. This opens up a whole new world for me, and I can already tell it’s something I won’t get enough of. This is dangerous. So dangerous.

Who knew this was what getting a roommate would lead to?

“Fuck, Gabriel—” He chokes out a groan. “I’m coming. Fuck, it feels so good.”

He slows his strokes, a long rope of cum rocketing from the tip of his dick and landing on his chest. There’s another, then another and another. It seems to go on forever, leaving a sticky mess on his chest. All I can do is stare and pant as I look at his cum all over his body and the way his chest is heaving, stomach muscles tense. It’s a mess. Such a mess.

But it’s a dirty, sexy mess, and I think now I finally understand what he means by that.

“Is it my turn now?” I ask.

He opens his eyes, smirking at me.

“Need me to get you off next?”

I nod eagerly. “Yes, please.”

“So polite,” he growls, getting up and using the discarded towel to wipe his chest.

He gets on his knees in front of me, putting his hand on my chest and pushing me back to free my dick from my pants.

“Before I do this, answer me one question.”

“Anything,” I say, gripping the arms of the chair.

“Am I getting a blow job tomorrow?”

“Hell yes you are.”