Freshman Jock Roommate's Fleshlight  (Patreon)

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Chapter 1: Gooner Boy

The roommate lottery is a strange thing. A bunch of eighteen-year-olds who are used to jerking off in their room alone get paired up with a completely random dude to live with for a year, in a new city, with no supervision or accountability whatsoever. I filled out the little questionnaire in my parents' kitchen with my dad reading over my shoulder, and I checked the boxes that made me sound like a normal person, the hopes that I would not get a freak for a roommate. I clicked non-smoker, 8am riser (apparently ambitious), studious, mostly tidy. I did not check a box that said I was interested in a frat boy's big, floppy cock being shoved in my face, and listening to him fuck his squishy fleshlight multiple times a day.

I grew up in a house where the doors stayed open, and the internet had a filter and my parents said grace at every meal. So when I got to that dorm, I was wound about as tight as a person can be, without realizing how far that was from the norm.

Jeff was already in the room when I got there.

He had the door propped open with a shoe, and half his stuff was dumped on the floor. He was bent over the bed, and I saw his butt only as he dug for something that was apparently stuck between the mattress and the wall. I looked around at the mess, and got the striking sensation that the room had always been his, and I was the one moving into his life. He was a lacrosse recruit, which I gathered from reading his special lanyard that was resting on his bag.

"Hey," I said.

He jumped up, shirtless and athletically toned, with decently big arms. My eyes eventually scanned up to his face. He was on the handsome side, just enough that, combined with the fit body, it made me a little nervous. He was going to get all the girls, and I would look like a nerd next to him.

"Oh, hey," he said. "Didn't see you there. You the roommate?"

"Yeah, you're Jeff I'm guessing."

"Yeah, hey." He reached out a hand and we shook. "Good to meet you."

He had a light sheen of sweat on him, and a tan down to the waistband, which showed a bit of pale white skin since his shorts had slipped. I could tell he'd spent his whole summer outside with his shirt off, which was its own flex.

We talked while he rummaged through his mess, and I unpacked my organized stuff into my side of the room, putting clothes in drawers, and laying stuff out onto my desk. He said that his parents were still in the building somewhere, while mine were already driving home.

He faced his bed and peeled his shorts and underwear off in one motion, still talking to me about the dining hall meal plan. His big, white, muscular globes were in my face, purely male nudity that I had literally never been exposed to at this proximity, and I did not know where to look. I looked at the window. I looked at my backpack.

"Dude, maybe a heads up," I said.

"For what?" He dug a pair of sweatpants out of the pile on the floor and stepped into them, with no rush at all. "It's a dorm, man."

He really had a muscular ass, round and packed from his years of lacrosse, I gathered. And before his sweatpants came up, I caught the front of him too. His pubes looked trim, or else just sparse, a small patch above a heavy package of man meat, and I turned back to my drawers and organized them with a lot of focus. 

Then I heard his bag tip over.

I looked back as stuff slid out of it, socks and a phone charger, and something hard that hit the floor with a firm, plastic weight behind it, and rolled a few inches, and it took me a second because I had never seen one in person, only in the corner of a screen I'd opened in the middle of the night in an incognito window. It was a fleshlight, right there in plain sight, with the lid removed so the silicone vagina shape was visible.

He glanced at it, picked it up by two fingers, and plopped it under his bed like it was no big deal.

That first night I heard him use it.

····[]····

I was up on the top bunk, with my face to the wall and my whole body still, trying to go to sleep, when he apparently decided I was already out, and it was time for his personal pleasure sesh. The frame of the bed started to move, a small steady rhythm coming up through the metal, and I closed my eyes and let the bed shake and did not say a word and waited for it to be over.  The squishing sound confirmed that he was using the fleshlight, and the unique suction noises were something I immediately knew I would never forget. 

Luckily, it didn't take him long to finish. I think it was less than a minute before I heard him slow down and then stop completely. I remember noting that he had good breath control, no groaning at all when he finished, whereas I always let out a girlish little moan when I came. 

I got hard in the dark, and I decided it was just from the awkwardness of it. It was just the pure strangeness of lying six feet up while a stranger did that below me. Plus, I always got a boner in bed, whether or not I actually rubbed one out.

Then he sighed, and the bed shifted as he rolled over, and he was asleep in about a minute, breathing loudly, and I lay there, awake, for a long time, and I could smell the cum, as disturbing as that was at the time.

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The bunkbeds were a necessity in our case. There was no other option in a dorm our size, because the room was too small for anything else. And when Jeff had asked on the first day which one I wanted, I said top. I'm not even sure why, but I was locked in after that, since he dropped his sweaty body onto the bottom bunk immediately, feeling it out, and I didn't want to touch it after that. And I climbed the ladder every night to get in bed, and listen to him hump his toy before he went to sleep, and then I could finally go to sleep as well.

The walls were cinderblock, painted so many times the corners were rounded, and what I noticed about them was that they did nothing to stop the sound coming in from next door. You could hear the guys in the next room easily, and the ones on the other side of my wall were also lacrosse guys. There were four of them, loud as a construction site from the second they woke up and basically as raunchy as Jeff. Nothing in our hall stayed private. I heard them jerking off, sometimes together I think, and especially whenever they would get up to some highjinx. 

Somebody's girl would come over, and before we were even home from classes it was noted in a new group chat that I would be involuntarily included in. There was one window in our room, over Jeff's bed, and at night the parking lot light came through and shined a gray layer over everything. And it was just light enough, that if I looked down, I would see more than I wanted to.

And after a few weeks of socializing, I learned more about the rowdy boy behaviors. The strange thing was that Jeff was a good-looking guy, but he had no game at all, completely zero ability to close the deal with girls. He'd come back from parties alone pretty much every time. Girls talked to him because he was hot, and hanging with other hot guys, and if he would occasionally get up the nerve to say something that made them laugh, he would always follow it up with something awkward and stupid.

And he'd come home afterward, and get out the sock that he kept his sex toy in, like humping his plastic sleeve had been the plan the whole time. He did it pretty much nightly, sometimes even twice. I tried to put it out of my head, but unless he was doing a very stealthy one, when he suspected I was still awake, it was usually a noticeable event.

And in the daytime, he did pushups constantly, and that was in between hours at the gym and going to lacrosse practice too. I'd come back from a class and he'd be on the floor in his tight underwear, doing them slowly, counting out loud sometimes. I heard numbers over a hundred, and it was impressive, and intimidating, and also annoying. I kind of hated it. It just seemed gay, the way he was mostly naked all the time on purpose in a shared room, with no shame. And it bugged me that I was the one who felt weird about his choices.

"Why do you have to be so... SEXY all the time?" I blurted out one afternoon, and I only realized the strangeness of the words after they had already come out. I had meant it in a mean way, trying to make him feel some much-needed shame, but it came out like a compliment. 

He didn't even pause the pushups.

"Can't help it that god gave me a perfect body and a monster cock," he said, and dropped his chest to the floor and pushed back up.

My eyes went wide. I don't think I had heard a person say a sentence like that out loud with a straight face in my entire life. And my eyes went down to the front of his underwear just as they were touching the floor. His bulge was the only part of him making contact with the rug, because it actually did stick out pretty far. I had seen him naked plenty of times, but somehow, him talking about it made me wake up a bit. Size matters. I had almost forgotten, being too struck by the nudity in general to even register that he had a "big dick". It was certainly bigger than mine. I had never in my life considered comparing my dick to someone else', but he brought it up, and now it was in my brain.

I looked back up quickly after I realized I was staring, but he noticed. And he smiled at the floor, and kept counting reps under his breath, and I hated that he had made me look. It filled me with straight up aggravation, and I left the room to go study in the library.

····[]····

After a few weeks he got even more cavalier, which I didn't think was possible.

He had always used the fleshlight before he went to sleep, even more often than he brushed his teeth. But early on, he waited until he thought I was asleep to start using the cock-pleasurer. But at some point, he  basically stopped bothering to wait. He'd just do it right after I hopped onto my top bunk. Then I heard him using it behind me one day while I was sitting at my desk. I had my earbuds in, and I just turned them up and made sure I didn't turn around for a few minutes, which was more than enough time for his quick trigger jerkoff sessions. Then he did it one time while I wasn't even facing away from him. I was reading a book in the chair, and he acted like I wasn't there. I grimaced and turned away, but he still seemed to feel no shame about it. If anything, it only emboldened him.

Then he started talking through it. 

I heard him say something once while I was on my computer, but I was afraid to turn around, knowing it was about the time of night when he would be in his gooner state, sloshing his big dong with his plastic lover. I just lowered the volume on my airpods, and heard the suction sound confirming that he was indeed pleasuring himself. He was talking to himself though at the same time, which was new. I was a little intrigued and more than half hard with the strange, sexual energy I was being subjected to, and I listed to the little bits of color commentary he peppered in while he watched porn on his phone, humping away at the toy that he held in his other hand.

"You like that, don't you," he said under his breath, clearly talking to an imaginary girl taking his cock. 

But with my volume turned down, it strangely felt like he was talking to me. 

"You like my big dick," he added, and I felt myself getting hard. This was too strange for me. In my head it wasn't a horniness boner at all. It was nerves. I was a boy and I got erect at a gentle breeze. I got erect sitting in any car, ever since I was twelve. Of course I got a strange, unexplainable erection when a dude was jerking it and I overheard what I shouldn't be hearing. It was just hormones in the air.

But it started to hit me, that maybe I was supposed to hear it, at least by his intention. I noticed what he was doing after the second or third time, because he'd pick the moments when I'd just gone quiet and still. He was doing it to watch me squirm. He wanted to see if I'd break and say something, finally call him out again. He wanted to get "caught" so bad that he wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. It was a game to him, and I was the opposing player. Or maybe I was like, the lacrosse ball itself, just a tool. I didn't even know if lacrosse used a ball. 

····[]····

One night, he pulled the toy off himself and groaned so loudly I almost thought he had hurt himself. I turned around to look just as he finished onto his own stomach.

"That's disgusting, dude," I said from my desk chair.

"You're hard, though," he said, not even looking at me. 

"No, I'm not," I lied, crossing my leg to hide my obvious tent.

But even as I said it, I was watching the whole thing continue, every second of it, his abs pulling in and his hand slowing down, until every drop was drained onto his abs, dripping down the sides of his body and pooling in his navel.

We were quiet about it after that, and I actually got a break from having to experience his close proximity jerking sessions for a while, until it all came flooding back one day.

I had my headphones on, up on my bunk. It wasn't exactly time to sleep, but I was chilling for a while before bedtime. Things had been cool with us lately, and I almost actually liked him a bit, as much as he still annoyed me every day. 

I almost thought I felt the typical shaking of the bed starting, and I braced for yet more of his grossness, but it didn't happen.

"You all right up there?" Jeff said, "You've been quiet."

"Some of us are trying to study," I said, even though I wasn't. I still had the instinct to keep him at arm's length.

"Uh huh." I could hear the grin in his voice. "That what you're doing."

"I have a World Civ midterm." That part was true.

"Sure, bro." He shifted around down there, getting comfortable. "Just checking if you're okay."

"Why wouldn't I be," I said, and I made it flat so it wouldn't sound like a question, and he laughed once and let it go.

We talked that night. We had talked before bed before, just a little, before we would get quiet, and he would assume I was asleep, and then he would hump his sex toy. We would say some dumb stuff and inside jokes to each other, comment on the guys next door, or things he thought were funny. 

But this night he brought it up himself, straight to the point, the topic which had never really been openly discussed, even though it had driven me crazy.

"Have you thought about asking me to borrow this thing?" he said.

I closed my eyes, shocked that he had finally brought it up directly, in normal conversation.

"No," I said flatly.

"Everyone else I've told about it is curious," he said. "Like, every single one. I bet you are too."

"My hand is fine," I said, immediately cringing at myself for even engaging in the conversation.

"Not like this," he said.

I didn't say anything further. But the truth was, once he mentioned it, I was actually curious. Of course I was. I was just so annoyed with him in general that I never even really thought about using it myself. He made it sound like a thing a person would be an idiot to keep passing up, and I was several weeks into college and I had not gotten laid, not once, not even close. Maybe I deserved a little weirdness in my life.

"You've genuinely never used one," he said. It wasn't really a question.

"Why would I have," I said.

"See, that's sad. That's actually sad." I heard him move. "Come down here."

····[]····

"Come check it out," he said. "I'm not gonna do anything. Just look at it."

"I'm good."

"Don't be a pussy."

"I'm not scared, I'm in bed. I don't wanna MASTURBATE with you."

I said it loud enough knowing the neighbors would hear, if they were listening. I hoped that would shame him into shutting up about it. But of course, that was an ambitious goal to have.

He tapped the hard plastic part of it against the bed frame, a hollow tap tap that reverberated up to the part of the bed next to my ear, and the sensation literally made my face tingle. I hated that he had that kind of control over me as he tried to drag me into his personal little Bacchanalia.

"You do want to try it," he said, knowingly. He was using his confident voice.

"It's weird because you're here," I said.

"Don't think about me," he said, "Think about Kelly."

Kelly. The girl down the hall. She was cute and flirty and made every guy feel special when she talked to them. Probably every guy on the entire floor thought about her at least once while jacking off. I admit she had an overstated presence in my own mind.

"It'll be like I'm not even in the room," he said.

"Is that who you think about, every night?" I asked, still in a taunting mood, even if my defenses were starting to come down. 

"Every single night, bro." The smile was plain in his voice. He was so sure of himself. "Come down here."

I don't even really know why, but I came down. I stood on his level in my gym shorts and a tee shirt, and there he was, propped on an elbow, shirtless under a blanket, holding the thing, and it was closer and more real down there than it ever was from up top. I could smell it more from down here.

I felt myself get hard. Just from being down there.

"There he is," Jeff said, and reached over and tapped the tented front of my shorts with the hard end of the toy.

I flinched, taking half a step back. My shorts were tenting for real and I was letting them, standing in the gray light with my roommate looking at me, and every part of my bodily system was sort of focused, on whatever this was down here, that had been boring into my brain since I got here.

"Okay," he said, and he reached for me, hooking two fingers into my waistband.

I didn't exactly realize that I had tacitly agreed to let him do something to me, but I honestly thought, what's the difference at this point. It was gay as hell, it was wrong, and I was going through with it. 

He pulled my shorts down and I stood bare in front of him, ready to give in to the gooner boy fiasco that had been taunting me all this time. I stared at the toy and at him, his impressively athletic chest, and the rippling abs on his stomach. And I let him get a hand around my dick, which I didn't flinch from this time, and he aimed me at the plastic pussy, slowly bringing them together. I felt the warmth immediately, before I even penetrated it, but that made me pause.

"Wait," I said, and he stopped, looking up at me. "When'd you clean it last?"

"Like an hour ago," he said, and I felt myself relax. I smiled in the dark, and he approached me with the toy again.

"But I came inside it five minutes ago," he said. "While we were talking."

My eyes shot open as I lurched back. 

But he was quicker than me.

He jumped up and the blanket came off with him, revealing that had been naked underneath it the whole time. His big dick flopped around with every move he made, swinging heavily against his thigh as he gripped my half naked body by my bare hips, pulling my ass into him, and I got about half a syllable out before he grabbed my arm and laid me back firmly like a wrestling opponent. 

The mattress caught me flat on my back, and we laughed at the same time as a squeal rang from the bedframe, the springs bouncing under us, and then he was on top of me, his naked body holding my down while my shorts held my legs together at the knees. It was weirdly fun, jostling with another guy, and I almost forgot why I was so disgusted. 

He had one thigh planted next to my chest, the other sloppily holding me tight in some strange leg-lock, his bare ass somewhere near my dick and balls, and his own hard shaft laid onto my stomach, bouncing up and down as we struggled against each other. 

I put up a fight, or the start of one, but I felt myself being more playfully dissuading than actually trying to get away. I got a grip on his forearm and pushed, and he answered by digging his fingers into my ribs, one quick experimental jab, and my whole body folded around it. 

I giggled hard. I giggled like a little boy, high-pitched and helpless, my knees jerking up toward his ass, and his face lit up.

"Oh, that's it," he said, grinning down at me. "Found the button."

He had discovered my weakness, he exploited it without mercy. Every time I reached down for another futile attempt at retrieving my shorts, his fingers went back into my sides and I collapsed again, laughing loud enough that the lacrosse guys next door probably heard every second of it through the cinderblock, and between attacks he would situate himself in a better position to control my body. 

His dick rubbed against me the entire time, and he was hard. His dick was warm and solid, and it was impossible to pretend I hadn't felt it, and I kept laughing anyway. And I was hard too, even harder than when we started, wrestling against a much stronger guy as he held me down with the weight of his athletic body.

He finally reached back and got the toy onto my dick, and the effect was instant. 

I saw god. 

The sleeve swallowed me in one slow push, and I stopped fighting entirely. 

"Oh fuck," I said, and my hands found his hips and gripped the muscle there, instinctively knowing that I needed him to stay exactly where he was.

It was like an angel's pussy on my dick, warm pocket of heaven, better than my fist had ever been in my life. And it was like jerking off for the first time again. Even knowing that he'd pumped his own load into it five minutes prior, and that was part of what made it feel so good, I still didn't pull away at all. My legs dropped flat on his mattress. The laughing was gone, morphing into a groan.

He scooted back on his knees, climbing over the toy so it sat in front of him, and his big dick swung down and poked me right in the balls. It was hard and heavy against them, and I could feel the heat of it as it made contact with me. I gripped the sheets and blanket under me with both fists and waited for whatever he would do next, just hoping that I got to stay in this toy for longer. I watched him in the gray light from the window, while the bed frame creaked under his weight. He pressed the fat head of his dick up against my balls, angling it toward the opening of the sleeve, and I felt him hunting for room in the hole of it, even though it was already occupied by my own throbbing dick.

I didn't say anything, just holding onto his thighs, as he worked the head in. The pressure of it made me flinch a little. He paused, like he had startled a horse he was riding, then when my body didn't protest any further, he continued to press inside in short bursts. He forced his shaft up along mine inside the tight rubber tube, and the stretch squeezed us together until I could feel our dicks literally pulsing against each other, his and mine, like two peas in a pod, except dicks in a fleshlight. 

Then his abs tensed as he started thrusting into it with slow strokes, our balls rubbing together and I didn't even care, while he slid the whole sleeve up and down over both of us with one hand, the other resting on my hip to steady himself. The combined tightness and movement was too much for me as my fingers dug into the meat on his hips. It felt like an orgasm was getting pumped out of me by force, dragged up from some new source of sexual energy deep inside me, below my stomach, even though I was in the gayest situation I had ever found myself in.

But somehow he came first, quickly grunting as I felt his cock pulse rapidly. His rhythm broke as he swelled to his largest size, throbbing against my dick inside the sleeve, and then his cum flooded the tube, a hot wetness coating our dicks. 

That finished me. I blasted right after him, my back arching off his mattress, our loads mixing in the packed rubber while his pace finally slowed to nothing. When I stopped pulsing, he pulled it off of us slowly, the suction letting go with a wet sound, and  he tipped the whole mess out onto my stomach. I was too drained to even flinch.

“I’ve always wanted to try that,” he said.

“What,” I said back, still catching my breath.

“With a friend, like... double stuffing it.”

“Well, it was pretty fucking good,” I said, rising up onto my elbows, not even worried about the mess on my body.

“Better than pussy, right?” he said.

“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted, “I’m a virgin.”

“Me too,” he said with a big, mischievous grin.

“Really?” I said, incredulous as I visually surveyed his naked body for the thousandth time. "Kinda crazy, but I've seen your strike out enough to know it's true."

He chuckled. 

“Yup,” he said with a shrug. “Came close a few times. Never happened.”

“I kinda feel like I just lost it, to be honest,” I said.

“Not yet,” he said, with a certain inflection that I couldn’t read, making me curious about his actual motives, and what might happen the rest of the night, my eyes narrowing on him.

He looked back at me with a smirk, pausing for a moment, before adjusting his hips once more, placing our wet packages in contact again.

"Could you be... down for more?"