My Hung, Straight Roommate Freshman Year 05: Sex Sounds Travel Through Thin Walls (Patreon)

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My Hung, Straight Roommate Freshman Year

Chapter 5: Sex Sounds Travel Through Thin Walls

Will was on his back on his bed in his underwear with one arm behind his head, phone on his muscular chest, and I could tell a text had come in that he liked. His legs were spread out and his package sat heavy in the grey cotton, big and heavy and leaning off to the left, between his thick thighs. I could see the dark shape of it through the fabric. He had been inside me the day before, and since then he hadn't acknowledged it at all, being nothing but a guy who lived in this room with me, talking about food, complaining about his econ TA, throwing a sock at my head when I wasn't "paying enough attention to him".

"Hey," he said, not looking over. "You mind heading out?"

"Sure, Is it Corinne again?"

"Yeah."

"Aight."

I grabbed my laptop and my charger and my hoodie and I felt weirdly fine about it, which surprised me. Part of me had figured that after he did all that to my butt, and how much I liked it, I'd be super jealous over some girl getting to take his dick next. But it was kind of a relief, actually. It was better if he still wanted girls, because then nothing had changed significantly. He could keep being the guy who fucked around in our room and also the guy who occasionally took hold of my ass and did unspeakable things to me.

When I got to the door I looked back and there was more shape to the cotton of his underwear than there had been a minute earlier. It was thickening down along his thigh, filling out.

"Have fun, bro," I said.

He pushed the heel of his hand down the length of his dick through the underwear, from base to tip, flattening it against his leg, and raised his eyebrows at me.

····[]····

The lounge on our floor only had one outlet that worked, over by the window, and a couch with a cushion that sank so far down you could feel the hard frame on your ass, which was suddenly very noticeable the day after I had taken a dick for the first time. I set up camp there and got maybe ten minutes of actual reading done before I could hear the knocking of Will's bed moving against the wall,  coming all the way down the hall to where I was sitting.

It's not a big building. Room 310 shares a wall with the stairwell on one side and 308 on the other, and the lounge is at the end past 302, and I could still hear the frame knocking. Three beats, pause, five quick beats, another pause. Somebody's shower door banged in the bathroom and I lost the sound for a second and then it came back.

I knew that rhythm. I had heard it all semester, and the day before, it had been me in that spot. It used to just be my roommate having sex yet again, an ambient noise, usually a reason to leave. Now I could picture exactly what it felt like to be in bed with him as he made it shake beneath me, and what his hand does during the pauses, adjusting himself, and rubbing me and my nipples.

I packed the laptop back up and walked down to 304 instead of just fidgeting there in the lounge.

The door was propped open with a shoe, and there were six of them crammed into the small room, Nick and Derek and four guys from the floor whose names I didn't fully know, sprawled on the beds and the floor with something on the TV with the sound all the way off. One of them was on his stomach across the foot of Derek's bed with his chin on his hands.

The chatting stopped mid-sentence as soon as I stepped into the doorway. 

Derek looked at his controller. Nick looked at the TV, where a streamer was playing a Nintendo game. One of the four, a tall guy with a buzzed head, Marcus I think, coughed into his fist.

I stood there long enough to be sure.

"What's up guys," I said carefully.

"Nothing," Derek said.

"Cool."

Nick laughed through his nose. Marcus looked at the guy next to him and then back at me.

"Okay so," he said. "You know how the walls in here are paper thin."

"Uh huh."

"We heard you guys yesterday. Like, all of it."

Derek put a hand over his eyes.

"We thought it was a girl at first," Marcus said. "For a while. Honestly for a long while. But then we heard your voice."

"What did I say?"

"I don't remember."

The guy on his stomach at the foot of the bed started wheezing into the blanket.

I stood in the doorway in my hoodie, with my laptop still under my arm and six guys looked at me, and all I could think to say was, "Jeez, these walls are thin."

The whole group of them went off laughing, instantaneous barbarians. Marcus went backward off the bed onto the floor. Derek made a wheezing noise like three times in a row before looking like he was having a heart attack, and then he couldn't stop spasming, and Nick was hitting him in the shoulder telling him to shut up, laughing too hard to say the words right. Somebody threw a pillow at the wall.

It wasn't even that funny, but I guess the tension was built up among them until I popped it with a nonchalant dismissal of concern. I sat down on the floor with my back against the desk, in between two guys I had only ever nodded at in the bathroom, and somebody handed me a controller and it was over.

"You're on my team," Marcus said. "I don't care."

Four rounds in, Derek said, not looking up from the screen, "He's done gay stuff with us too, by the way."

"I wouldn't be surprised. Knowing you two."

"Brojobs aren't gay," Nick said. "Everybody knows that."

Chuckles from around the room. I wasn't even sure if they took them seriously or not. 

Nick threw the pillow back at him. Nobody's eyes came off the screen the entire time.

"What's the gayest thing you've ever done?" One of the other guys said to Marcus.

That turned into everybody basically being cornered into having to say the gayest thing they'd done, and I mostly kept my mouth shut and let the rest of them talk.

Marcus said he'd jerked off next to his best friend in a tent, both of them under separate sleeping bags, not touching. "But we could hear it. Like, we could both hear it and we kept going. It felt super gay."

"Yeah," the guy on his stomach said.

The guy on his stomach said he and his older brother used to watch porn together on a laptop in their basement when they were both in high school, and one time his brother finished and just said "your turn" but he stayed in the room, basically watching.

"That's not gay," Derek said.

"Shut up."

The fourth one didn't say anything at all for a minute and then said that one time, at a beach bonfire back home, he'd made out with a guy during a game of gay chicken, and when neither of them gave up quickly, they started grabbing each other's dicks and basically jerking each other off through their shorts. And they both had a boner the whole time, and afterward they never talked to each other again. 

"You should hit him up again," I said. "He's DTF, I can tell."

Everyone laughed, but also, everyone seemed to accept the stories and simply move on, which seemed like kind of a big deal.

My phone buzzed against my leg.

Will: Come back

Me: Ok

I got up to leave. 

"Where you goin'," Marcus said.

"Heading back."

"Wear a condom," one of the other guys said.

I rolled my eyes and headed out.

Corinne was in the hallway when I came out, standing by the stairwell door with her arms up behind her head, putting her hair into a bun with an elastic between her teeth. She got it up and pulled the elastic out of her mouth and looked at me for a second.

She didn't say anything, just walked past me and went down the stairs.

····[]····

The normal routine of Will's hookups was that he would text me when he was done, sometimes, and I'd walk in and the window would be open to air out the smell of balls and sex sweat. And he'd be in bed in his boxers, or doing his post-coital ritual of getting ready to shower. 

I walked in and saw him right where I expected him, but I sensed a higher vibration in him today than normal.

He jerked his chin at the wall, toward the far end of the hall.

"What do you even do down there with those guys."

"Mario Kart, mostly."

"Mario Kart," he said.

"Yeah."

He nodded and looked back at his phone for a second as I turned toward my desk, setting down my stuff.

Suddenly, he grabbed my body. He spun me around, and wrapped both his arms around my back, my face against the side of his neck, his chest against mine, and my laptop still in my hand hanging down by my leg. He held on. I got my free arm up around him because there was nowhere else to put it, and I could feel his heart racing against my chest.

I pulled my head back to look at his face. He looked back at me.

"How... was she?" I said.

"Bad."

"Bad?"

"I didn't cum. I told her to leave." He took my laptop out of my hand and set it on the desk without looking away from me. "I wanted you, actually."

My eyebrows went up so far I felt it in my scalp, and then he walked me backward, and lay my body down on my bed.

He got my hoodie and my shirt off in one pull and my sweats down and off my ankles, and this time he kept me on my back, facing him, which he hadn't done before. He jumped onto the bed with me, in a whirlwind of unexpected assertiveness, and he knelt between my legs as he lifted them, doing the lube fast, shoving two fingers into me. It was barely a warm-up, and I was still getting my head around the fact that this was happening at all when he pushed the head of his dick into me.

"Fuck," I said as I began scratching my nails into his back. "Fuck."

"Yeah," he said as he sank into me slowly.

I could feel the desperation in his hard dick, in the way he held me. He needed this.

He got my ankles up on his shoulders and he was more quiet this time, speaking with his body and his breath. He fed it into me in slow, incremental pushes, and then he fell onto me fully, all his weight coming down through his hips as he began a pace that felt good as much as it hurt, the frame tapping into the wall on every stroke, his hand spread flat on my chest holding me down against the mattress. It burned for about a minute before I felt my organs realign for him. His face was above mine the whole time, inching closer. His mouth was open, and he made a throaty noise on every thrust. He started dripping sweat onto me and I paid attention to every sensation on my skin as I let him take me fully.

I got a hand on his forearm and squeezed it.

"Wait. Stop."

He stopped, buried, his stomach heaving.

"You okay?"

"I wanna fuck you," I said.

He looked at me for a second. Then he pulled out of me in one slow motion, which felt like getting something surgically removed, and stood up off the bed.

I got up too, and we ended up in the middle of the room with our hands all over each other. He had a fist around my dick, slippery with lube from his own hand. I had both hands on his chest and then on his stomach and then around behind him on his ass. I squeezed both cheeks and pulled them apart and ran my middle finger down between them.

In a strange way, he was already somewhat open for me. My finger went in past the first knuckle with no resistance at all, and it was wet in there, not spit wet, that same plastic-smelling stuff off his desk.

"Whoa," I said.

"Yeah, go for it," he said, and kissed the side of my jaw, as I stood there with my finger inside my muscular, jock roommate.

He lay down on his back on his own bed, and held his legs up by the backs of his thick, pale thighs. He didn't wait for me to arrange him. He was ready for it, looking me in the eyes.

I got the bottle and got on top of him and pushed in, and finding little resistance, I got the whole thing  inside him in seconds. Whatever had been done to that hole recently, it had been done thoroughly. I got my hands under his knees and folded him up and started hammering into him, letting my body bounce in its instinctive way as I pleasured myself using his hole. I almost forgot how good it felt to dig my dick deep inside a warm and willing hole. I did it the same as he had a minute ago, no real rhythm, just weight and speed and tensing while I watched his face, his big body rocking up the mattress an inch at a time until his head was against the wall.

"Oh my God," he said. "Okay. Okay."

"You're loose as hell."

"I know."

"Will."

"I admit," he said between breaths as I continued thrusting into him, "I've been fingering myself in the shower... a lot." 

"Every day," he went on after a beat, "Since that first night you fucked me. Every single day, I take the shampoo bottle in there and I do it with my fingers and I think about it."

My hips stopped on their own for a second and then went twice as hard, and my balls pulled up tight, and I had to reach down and grab the base of myself and pull out of him entirely before I came too quickly.

I stood up off the bed and walked two steps and leaned my hands on the edge of his desk with my heart slamming.

"Do me again."

He was up off that mattress before I finished the sentence. He got both hands on my hips and kicked my feet wider apart and put it in me standing up, and at that angle it felt like it was hitting a new spot, and the sound of his hips hitting my ass was twice as loud as it had been on the bed, a flat wet clapping that was definitely echoing down the hall to those horny pervs who listened to everything. I stopped keeping my mouth shut. I breathe-moaned into the top of his desk, feeling uninhibited.

"Shush," he said.

"It's not like they don't know."

He laughed, one breath out through his nose, and kept going. I braced my palms and slammed myself backward into him to meet it, and his notebook started sliding across the desk with each thrust until it fell off onto the floor.

"I'm gonna finish," he said.

"Do it."

He grabbed my hip bones and pulled me back onto himself and held me there and I felt the throb of it inside me, four times, five, and knowing it was happening put me right at the edge. He reached around and got a hand on me and worked it for about ten seconds until I felt the rush build up from my balls to my throat, and I squirted all over his desk, hard, three long, pulsing strings of white followed by the clearish aftershocks dripping down.

He pulled out of me slowly and I leaned forward away from him, already feeling the emptiness settle in where he'd rearranged me internally.

My load was sitting in a puddle across another open notebook, whitish clear, spread over a page of econ problems, the pen marks showing through underneath it in wet patches.

I grabbed the tissues off his shelf to clean it up, and he caught my wrist.

"No," he said. "It's hot. I'm gonna frame it."

"Please don't."

"Try and stop me."

He pulled me over gently as he sat his naked body down on the edge of his bed, dropping his elbows on his knees, catching his breath. I sat down next to him. Neither of us said anything for a minute, and he didn't get up for his towel, which he usually did, immediately, every time, with girls and with me.

I picked my phone up off the floor. The group chat had new messages.

Marcus: You left because you got the booty call text didn't you

Derek: He got the text

Nick: We can hear the frame from here. Congrats

Marcus: I'm impressed you can take it. Dude is probably hung.

I laughed out loud in the quiet room. Will leaned over and read it off my screen with his chin almost on my shoulder, and he didn't laugh.

"I heard you," he said.

"What?"

"Through the wall. The other day. When you were down there with them." He was looking at the phone, not at me. "I was in here the whole time. I heard the whole thing and I didn't know it was you at first and then I did."

I didn't have anything to say to that.

"And then two guys on the floor were talking about it in the bathroom. Calling it a circle jerk. Like it's a group you joined." He sat back and put his hands on his knees. "You did it with them and never told me."

The radiator ticked. I felt his cum running down under my balls, and I could smell the male aroma of sweat and balls and jizz drying in the room, but this was the thing that he needed to mention.

"You got jealous?"

"I guess I felt left out," he said, uncharacteristically sheepish.

I looked at the side of his face for a second. Then he turned and kissed me, for real, like the horny teen jock that he was, not as a joke. His hand came up under my jaw and his mouth opened against mine and I felt his teeth once and then his tongue, and I leaned into it, our lips locked long enough that I had to breathe through my nose. When he pulled back he didn't say anything about it.

He lay down on his side facing the wall, taking up about ninety percent of a bed built for one person.

We were both disgusting. He was worse than me, sweat still running down his spine into the small of his back, a smear of lube across his hip and down one thigh. I got the shirt off the floor and wiped down his back and his ass and his thighs, and then between my own legs, and threw it back into the corner.

Then I got into his bed behind him.

There was no room, and I was the smaller one by a lot. I put my knees into the backs of his knees and my arm over his ribs and my forehead against the top of his spine, and he took my hand and pulled it down flat against his stomach and pushed himself back into me until there wasn't any space left anywhere. My whole body fit into the curve of his back. 

I was asleep before I could start thinking about what any of it meant.

····[]····

He was gone to the gym when I woke up. The crusty shirt was still balled up in the corner, and the ruined page of his notebook had been torn out.

Will: You want the usual from the dining commons?

Me: Obviously

Will: Cool

Will: You're coming to room 304 with me tonight

I sat up in bed and looked at that for a minute.

Me: Ok

I took a deep breath and stood to stretch, naked in my dorm, assessing my desperate need for a shower, and thought to myself, So I guess this is my life now.