Stuck in an Elevator 04 (Patreon)

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Chapter 4: Afterparty

The morning after, Greg was gone before I woke up.

His bed was empty, the mess I had left on it dried up, a big jizz and piss stain left over. I lay there for a minute looking at the ceiling, taking stock of my body, which had several new sensations brewing. My ass felt like I had gotten stuffed with a baseball bat, but it felt good to remember why it was sore. My balls were aching In a weird way, like all the smacking around had left a delayed sting. 

Then I got up, showered, and went to my nine o'clock class like a normal person.

At first, we didn't really talk about it at all.

When I got back that night, he was sitting on our couch, he looked up at me, a half nervous smile on his face. I looked back, smiling sheepishly, out of my control. After a second, he nodded at the TV. 

“There’s a new episode of Monarch.”

I smiled, plopped down next to him, our knees touching, and watched it with him.

For the next week, things were different, but never discussed. I slept in my own bed, but I looked at him when he changed. I tried not to let him see that I was looking. 

When I jerked off, I thought about the sensation of his dick penetrating me, and the smell of his balls in my face. For the first few days, it was a recent soreness that I could still grab onto mentally. I would tense my hole and feel the ache, and it made me cum. But as the days went on my body returned to normal, and it was just a memory.

Everything was normal on the outside, but I knew it hadn’t been a one time thing. We ate together, complained about midterms together, watched stuff on the couch together with our legs always touching. Part of me wanted to reach over and wake up the monster in his pants, but I couldn’t do it. I had been passive that whole time, and it would only work if he initiated things, but he seemed chill just pretending to be buddies again. Just roommates. So I waited, crawling into bed every night with a big boner, waiting until I could be his hole again.

I did notice him looking at me sometimes. Not obviously. Just a notable glance with serious eyes when I came out of the bathroom, or when I reached up to put something on the shelf above my desk. I'd catch it in my peripheral vision and feel something brace inside me, an anticipation, like this might be the moment he does it again.

One night, maybe a few days after, I woke up at two in the morning needing to pee. I remembered what happened the last time, and I got up slowly. The boxers I was wearing were old and loose, riding low and showing my ass, the waistband halfway down. I didn't fix them, if anything I let them fall a little more.

I walked past his bed slowly, stopping to look back at him.

I could tell he was awake. Something about the quality of the silence. There were no sleep breathing sounds. He was too still, too conscious.

From the corner of my eye I caught the faintest movement. His hand, barely a twitch under the blanket. Then nothing. He stayed still.

I got to the bathroom, and walked back. He was out cold, and I got into bed.

I lay in the dark for a while after that, staring at the ceiling, aware of my own heartbeat in a way that made it hard to sleep. I was in the peculiar situation that I wanted to get fucked, and I had no idea what to do about it.

—[]—

We both had our last midterms on a Thursday. We were done by noon, and without any real discussion ended up back at the room at the same time, dropping our bags and exhaling deeply like it was summer break already.

"We're going out," Greg said. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," I said. "We're going out."

We went and got lunch at the cafeteria, chatting wildly about nothing important, just excited to be done with exams. We hung out on the quad, just the two of us, the whole afternoon. There was almost no silence, just finding something else to be excited about and continuing the conversation.

When the sun started going down, the sounds of thumping party music crept into the air.

We looked at each other and both understood already.

“Let’s party.”

He talked the whole way there about girls, about how he hadn't gotten any since school started, about how tonight was the night, statistically speaking. I listened and made the right noises. There was a small but noticeable feeling in my chest that I identified as disappointment, but I somehow knew that everything was going to be alright.

Walking through the door of the party beside him, shoulder to shoulder, I had a feeling that settled over me like a familiar warmth. Whatever happened, it was going to be fine. More than fine.

We split off inside. That was normal. I found some people I knew, had a good time, and at some point noticed Greg across the room with a girl, the psych class girl, I realized. They were making out against the wall, her hands on his chest. I looked away and found my own girl for the night. 

It was strange. I hadn’t thought about pussy in over a week, but with Greg doing his thing, I felt like I had to follow his lead.

She was fun. We danced, we talked, things seemed headed somewhere. Her hands even found my thigh and gave me half a boner, but then her friends materialized out of nowhere and one of them had too much to drink. That meant the night was over with her. At my school, the girls took care of each other in a group, and people respected that. She shrugged apologetically, kissed me for a long second on the mouth, and was gone.

I stood there for a second, got my jacket, and started looking for the exit.

Greg found me, or I found him, it was hard to say which. He appeared at my elbow looking relaxed, happy to find me, hands in his pockets, his muscular arms flexing a little, his instinct when he’s in public.

"Psych class girl?" I said.

"Made out with her. But she left with her friends." He shook his head, but he didn't look that bothered. "You?"

"Same story, different girl," I said, chuckling through my nose.

He laughed. We walked out together into the cold.

On the walk back he was quiet, the party energy settling down, both of us at ease. Our breath showed in the cold air. At some point our shoulders were bumping with every other step and neither of us moved apart.

Back at the room he got the door, and I went in ahead of him, dropping my jacket on my bed. I heard him come in behind me, the door clicking shut.

Then his hand landed on my ass. It was almost casual, the kind of thing that could've been a joke among rowdy college boys. Happened a million times with friends over the years for a laugh, just a thing between guys meaning nothing.

But it didn't mean nothing.

I stood still for a half second. Everything from the past few weeks moved through me at once, the elevator, the hard fuck where he finally took my ass, the loose waistband, the twitch of his hand in the dark. 

The anticipation vibrated through my body, and he was standing behind me, pressing up against me.

I turned my head and kissed him.

A beat of stillness. His hand stayed where it was.

Then he took over.

He grabbed both sides of my head as he thrust his hips against me. I almost fell over but he held onto me, his body rocking against mine as he laid me back against the couch, both of our bodies hanging over the arm rest.

He lifted my legs and pulled off my pants smoothly, even quicker than I could take them off.

“I bought you something,” he said as he pulled a bottle out of nowhere. “It’s lube.”

Apparently he had stashed it in the couch cushion of all places.

“Back at the couch where it all started,” I breathed as he popped open the cap.

“It started,” he said, pausing as he ripped off his shirt, showing his glistening abs, “when I first saw that dumptruck ass of yours walk into this tiny room with me.”

He dropped his pants, and his giant cock popped out, that thing that I wanted to destroy me.

“I want this,” I said, reaching for his hips. “I want this every night.”

He just smiled with one side of his face, smirking as he squirted the clear, gooey substance onto his cock, already leaning into me impatiently.

I finally got to feel it again, the sensation running up my spine as he slowly spread me open. It hurt just as much as the first time, but it went away quicker. And with his firm body holding me in place, I liked it. 

His eyes got crazy as he started pounding me, and I felt him push into me in the same spot as last time, but at a new angle. It felt like a piston was inflating me from the inside as I watched his shaft, thicker than my wrist, disappearing under my balls over and over. My legs flailed wildly, bouncing off his shoulders in the air, and I couldn’t control anything. My toes tensed back and forth, and I got a foot cramp, but even that felt good in the moment. 

I moved my hands from his sides to his chest, rubbing his nipples with my thumbs as he drilled me into the couch, his animal instincts taking over again. He got so crazed that he drooled a little bit, directly onto my chest. He grunted like an animal as he started pounding me harder, slapping his body against mine. I was sure the guys next door could hear how loud it was as the body claps reverberated through the room.

He put a thumb in my mouth, then spit onto my chest. He was doing every weird thing he wanted and I was letting go of any insecurities

“You like my hole, you fucking… strong man…?” I muttered between breaths, not even able to think straight.

“Yeah, baby,” he said as his body kept slamming into me, “I’m gonna make your body sing.”

clap clap clap 

“I’m gonna… cum,” he groaned slowly, my skin going numb as his body slapped even harder against me.

I felt him pulse as he froze inside me, the sweat between our bodies dripping down between us.

“You’re cumming in me,” I said, my voice quieter and meeker than I had ever heard it since hitting puberty. 

He smirked again, the energy flowing out of him and into me. He leaned forward, holding his dick inside me as his face got close to mine.

He smiled, an inch from my face. “You’re a good piece of ass.”

I smiled back, our sweaty foreheads touching.

—[]—

We hopped in the shower together, our dicks flopping around, his large and half hard, mine still poking forward at full attention, both of us giggling like little boys, comparing our pubes and talking about manscaping and stuff like that. I had a rush of energy that was almost unfamiliar. It was like my first time at Disneyland, or Christmas morning.

There was a beat of silence as Greg poured a big glob of shampoo into my hair, our eyes meeting.

“You didn’t cum this time,” he said, glancing down to my dick, stubbornly jutting into the air, throbbing even harder when he looked at it.

“Yeah,” I said, looking down with him.

He didn’t say anything, just slowly descending to his knees. He looked straight at my dick, and put it in his mouth. 

The warm velvet made my knees weak immediately. I put a hand on the shower wall to steady myself as I felt heaven. Big Greg, the hung roommate was sucking my dick. I was close to cumming immediately, but my voice didn’t work to say anything. He reached under my balls and shoved three fingers into me, pressing down hard behind my balls. 

I felt myself squirt immediately into his mouth, and it felt like a lot. He braced his body, leaning forward, but keeping my dick in his mouth as he let a glob of my white goo fall down his chin. He coughed a little, but held my hip, keeping me inside until I was done pulsing. 

My cock popped out of his mouth, still fully hard.

He stood up and kissed me, pushing a wad of cum into my mouth. I wasn’t even shocked. A girl did that to me once, and I hated it, but tonight it was thrilling.

Afterward, we got in his bed, the less messy between the two, lying there in the quiet, the room dark, both of us on our backs, nude, the blanket pushed to the side, basically drying our bodies in the air. It was two am, and the silence wasn’t bad.

After a minute, I felt like talking.

"That psych class bitch missed out," I said, the smile evident in my voice.

He made a short sound that was almost a laugh. After a moment he reached over without looking and pulled me into him, his arm heavy across my chest, his warmth the same specific warmth it had always been.

I closed my eyes.

“I’m so lucky I got you as a roommate,” he said sleepily as we drifted off together.

—[]—

We didn’t make a label out of anything, but it got out eventually when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other in public. I didn’t care, and Greg had a bravado that superceded rumors and things like that. He even still got with girls plenty of times, but he always came home and used me for some sloppy seconds, which I loved. He even woke me up in the middle of the night a few times, giving me my present when I needed it.

I went on to thoroughly enjoy the rest of freshman year. And Greg never went without a warm hole to satisfy him. It was summer break that finally scared me a little.