Porn Wars (Patreon)

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It all started when Teddy got his own room, near the beginning of this school year. Our parents had been using the extra bedroom as a home office for most of our lives, forcing us to share a room for some reason, and when my dad finally migrated everything to the newly built annex, we got our own rooms. Teddy claimed the new space immediately since it’s bigger and has large windows overlooking the woods behind our house. He moved his stuff over in like twenty minutes, including his bed. I didn’t even know he was done until I walked into “my” room and saw that all his crap was gone. The excitement of finally having my own private masturbation sanctuary was undercut by a strange sensation that something was “missing” now.

I wasn’t used to sleeping with more than six feet of carpet between me and Teddy. Besides a few slips here and there, we were both typically modest about the shared space. We didn’t get naked in front of each other. We had developed sort of an unspoken code and learned not to look.

I heard him, though, almost every night.

I believe he tried to wait until I fell asleep. But honestly, my routine became to just get really quiet, to give him space enough to spank his meat while believing he had acquired some of that coveted privacy which was a priceless commodity between us. Once he thought the coast was clear, the gentle, rhythmic rustling would begin under his blanket, the dim light from his phone screen lighting up his face, his ear buds on. Occasionally, I could even sense his breathing change. And a few times, I heard him moan a little bit. 

I never said anything. I gave him his privacy out loud, and in my own bed, under my own covers, I joined him, quietly, finishing into a different sock or pair of underwear. That became a habit, and happened pretty much every time.

I honestly believed it was just the proximity and hormones in the air that made me do it. Hell, I needed a release as much as he did. It was just the timing, and the shower wanks were only so satisfying compared to the comfort of my warm bed. Two guys in the same room, same hormones rushing through us would lead us to a little proximal jerking off. 

Obviously, the smell of built-up cum rags was a giveaway that we were both engaged in the same bodily routines, but it never became a spoken thing, and he never mentioned if he knew what I knew.

But after a few weeks of having my own room and spanking it openly anytime I wanted, I started to miss Teddy.

I started noticing him more, and wanting his company. I was weirdly afraid to ask for it, though. I missed just bullshitting, sitting on our beds, and I missed the clandestine evening wank sessions, as weird as that sounds.

The first time I saw him naked after that was an accident. He came out of the bathroom in the hallway, towel over his shoulder, his fully body uncovered, dick hanging out, half hard. I was right there coming around the corner. Neither of us expected it. He covered himself with one hand while he held the towel with the other and I caught it before I looked away. He had a boner. Not a full one but it was not a rested-state dong. I didn't say anything about it. I looked at the wall.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, “Thought I was alone.”

"Didn't even see that much of you back when we shared a room," I said.

He grinned. "Yeah, well."

“Try to keep it contained, Mister Big Cock,” I said for some reason as I walked past him.

He chuckled and turned back to me. I heard him stop and turned my head. He dropped his hand and wiggled his hips, making it flop around, showing off its size even more. 

“Can’t keep this thing hidden forever.”

I noted that he was indeed bigger than me, some internal competition I never even knew I had coming to the surface. I chalked it up to him being a couple years older, but I knew it was an actual difference beyond that.

I went to my room and didn't think about it. I just loaded up some gooner porn on twitter and spanked myself silly, letting my new hobby do its thing and make me forget about the world for a bit.

But I thought about it that night, when I was alone in the room.

—[]—

A few weeks later I was walking past his room and the door wasn't fully closed. I glanced in as a reflex, and Teddy was standing at his desk pulling up his underwear. His laptop was open to some porn site that was instantly recognizable as smut. I paused, and noticed that I could hear the low audio from it, just barely. He didn't see me, and I kept walking.

I went to my room and locked the door and I instantly went at it on my hog like I was trying to choke the thing. I didn’t even pull up any porn. It was fast and uncontrollable, kind of desperate in a way. I finished in about thirty seconds, spraying my floor without even aiming, breathing hard, not even sure what image I had used to bring me over the edge. The release hit me hard enough that I had to hold onto the edge of my desk for balance as I waddled to my bed, my pants around my ankles.

I collapsed and lay there for a second breathing.

Then I got up and walked to the living room, finding Teddy there on the couch in sweatpants. We didn’t acknowledge each other, which was normal, and I sat next to him and we watched TV for several hours as we played on our phones.

—[]—

The holidays were the worst.

Family came in and out on a daily basis. Cousins stayed over. My parents were home around the clock. For about ten days we lost the run of the house and I ended up in Teddy's new room on an air mattress, which my mom thought was a fun throwback and which I found completely insane.

Teddy thought it was funny. He made a whole production of it, cleared floor space, dug out the air mattress from the closet. "Just like old times," he said.

“Sure,” I said on the first night as I lay down, my old instincts coming back immediately, but with a little built up tension in them. 

I did my old habit of pretending to sleep, waiting to see if it would happen.

I listened to him breathe, a few feet away from me, thinking about nothing I was supposed to be thinking about, the anticipation giving me a reflexive boner before I even started on myself. But he didn't do anything. Soon he was making sleep sounds, and neither of us got off that night. For the next week and a half I went to bed each night, glancing over at Teddy, peaking at the shape of his body, looking for signs that we were going to engage in our unspoken routine of jerking off in the same room. I wondered again if he knew about it, or if he really just thought I was asleep the whole time. 

Either way, it appeared to have ended, the chapter closed. It didn’t feel right to get off in Teddy’s room if he wasn’t doing it as well, and I went ten days only spanking it in the shower, plus a few trips to the bathroom at school of course.

When the cousins left, and everyone cleared out, and I went back to my own room, and Teddy closed the door to his room, I felt it like a book was closing. The story was over, and it was time to move on. There was some amount of grief, but I guess we all move on from these things eventually.

—[]—

But, of course, some things don’t change. 

I was in my room one night, late, doing nothing in particular, already spent as I had blown my load several times since getting home, just dicking around in my gaming chair, looking at YouTube on my laptop when I heard a specific noise through the wall. It was… porn? I took off my headphones, and, just barely, I confirmed what it was.

I raised an eyebrow. 

Okay, so there’s that, i thought to myself.

We had always had this wing of the house to ourselves most of the time. My parents' room was on the other end of the hall. When they were home they were home, but their side of the house was their side. Teddy and I had figured that out a long time ago, which is why we got away with hijinx over the years, as long as our parents weren’t in their office at the time.

I sat there for a second, my hand drifting on its own down to my crotch, feeling for myself through my underwear, judging myself subconsciously on size, reminding myself I was “bigger than average… probably”.

Then the sounds from his side of the wall got louder, and I felt a small rush in my body. I did what I'd always done, except with impunity now. I pulled my underwear down, hooked them below my balls, and started spanking my boy meat like I was starting a lawnmower. It felt the same as the shared room, but with the freedom to whip it out openly. And this time, technically, we were even closer than before, just a couple feet away on the other side of the wall. I never even thought before how close we were this whole time, until he suddenly decided to go full audio.

I actually recognized the video at some point. The same “Girl takes multiple big dicks” type of video I had grown to love almost exclusively. I looked up the one I thought it was, and tried to sync it on my own laptop. I knew it because I'd watched it myself more than once.

He likes the same freaky shit I do, I thought to myself, grinning at no one.

I heard it skip to the end, and then suddenly cut off after the big face splattering ending. Knowing his habits of how long he liked to tease himself, I figured he wasn’t done yet. He was just deciding what to put on next.

I looked at my laptop, and got an idea. I would decide the next video.

I put something on, in the same category, and switched the audio to computer speakers. I turned it up a bit. The apparently thin walls were certainly carrying the message over to Teddy. No more noise came from his side, and I edged myself slowly to the video on my side of the wall, hoping that he was on the other side with me. 

My clip was short, and when it ended I paused the autoplay, my heart racing as I waited to see if he would continue this new game of ours. I waited for probably twenty seconds, sweating, wondering if I was just imagining things.

Then he put something on. Bodies clapped together audibly through his speakers and I stood up at my desk, almost jumping for joy as I held onto my ding dong, nodding my head to the gentle soundtrack accompanying his video. I didn’t even need to see it. I was getting off just knowing that we were sharing.

We went back and forth like that for a while. One video ended, and the next started on each side of the wall, just the innocent exchange of it, back and forth in the dark. I'd finish one and he'd start one. He'd let his go quiet and I'd pick it up. It had a rhythm to it. It felt like a conversation in some language we had only just now confirmed the other could speak. 

I realized we had the same taste. Not just similar, but the same. The specific sub-genres of large cocks stuffing these holes, the same niche stuff I'd always assumed was just my own private weird corner of the internet. He was there too. He'd been there the whole time.

Then he put on a compilation. He made his speakers louder than anything he'd played before. I knew the video immediately. I had come back to it many times to “finish the job”, and I instinctively knew that we had mutually agreed on the end game.My poor dick was aching for release, and i pulled up the same video.

In seconds I felt the tension rise from my lower crotch through my dick and I blasted out the largest, most watery nut of my life onto my body. I had never seen it come out so clear before. My body was expelling every ounce of fluid it had in response to the most sexual experience of my life so far. I was shocked that it went to far, getting on my lips and dripping down my neck, puddling around my abs, before subsequent streaks turned into the gooey squirts of cloudy whiteness that I was used to. I tensed my ass as I finished strong, squeezing the tip to milk out the last drop, impressed with my body for performing like that. I melted into my chair and held my messy dick, not looking forward to cleaning up my body or my chair.

We finished within a minute of each other, judging by his speakers cutting out only a few seconds after I had blasted off and turned off my own. I could tell by the quiet that settled in on his side that he was as relaxed as I was. The silence had a particular quality to it, the post orgasm flood of positive vibes, with no shame.

I lay back in my chair, staring at the ceiling.

My phone vibrated.

Teddy: That was fun.

There was a photo attached, is desk. The evidence of a dozen watery, clearish white streaks puddling on top of it. It was voluminous. I chuckled to myself. Just when I thought I was a man, he proves yet again that there are higher peaks to conquer. I stared at the photo that should have been shocking, but was somehow expected at this point.

I texted him back: Mine was big too.

Teddy responded after a minute: We’ll have to compare next time.