I was glad my roommate and his girlfriend had gone out for the night. But they came back before I was finished.
My college roommate, Paul, and his girlfriend, Robin, had gone out drinking. That left me alone in the room for the first time in a long time. I found his stash of Penthouse magazines and started flipping through. The pictures got my cock hard quickly.
In those days, I’d wrap my cock and balls in two socks to masturbate, one inside the other. The socks felt soft against my shaft and the elastic lightly squeezed my balls. I could also lay down on the bed and hump the mattress with my package wrapped like that which brought my dick an entirely different set of sensations to keep me moaning. I’d pleasure myself for a couple of hours that way. If I came, I’d get another pair of socks and start again.
While the pictures were stimulating, I really loved to read the letters to Penthouse. They were a source of education as well as erotic stimulation. I lay in bed with just enough light to read, my briefs at my knees.
Even though I had already soaked one pair of socks, I kept reading the letters. I moved on from Penthouse magazines to the Letters to Penthouse publications that they used to put out. The descriptions of kissing, licking, sucking, fucking, and every manner of skin-on-skin explorations had me hard again. I wrapped my cock and balls in a fresh pair.
It was getting late, though. I reluctantly returned all the magazines to my roommates “hiding” place, my wrapped cock still hard as steel and aching. I turned out the light and climbed back into bed. As I lay on my side with my back to the door, I slowly rocked back and forth. With my cock in the socks between the blankets and the mattress, I was getting some heavenly friction.
Just then, I heard a key in the lock. My roommate said, “Sshhh.” I froze, and pretended to be sleeping. He opened the door and light from the hallway spilled in. Paul whispered, “He’s asleep.”
We had arranged the room so my bed faced the wall opposite the door. His bed was at my feet, perpendicular to mine. The head of my bed was against the side wall, while the head of his bed, against the other wall, was toward the door.
Paul and Robin were pretty drunk, trying to suppress their laughter at nothing. I heard them take their jackets off and start making out almost instantly. They quickly moved to Paul’s bed. As I lay there in the dark, I heard belts being unbuckled, zippers being opened, and clothes being shed very quickly, sprinkled with an occasional, “Shh.”
It didn’t take long before they were obviously naked in bed together. I had heard underwear sliding down legs and Robin seldom wore a bra, I knew. I loved watching her small breasts jiggle slightly under her sweaters or T-shirts, her nipples pointing forward. They were naked and kissing and fondling one another under Paul’s blankets. Then I heard Robin’s breath catch, then a long sigh. Paul let out a slight moan. He must have slid his cock into her pussy. Then, slowly, I could hear the quiet rhythm of two bodies rocking together in bed: the hushed crumpling of bedding, the slight creak of springs, the silken sound of skin sliding on skin, the matched, shuddering breaths.
I was in agony. My cock had never ached so much. Slowly, I started to hump the bed, trying not to make any of the noises they were making.
Their lovemaking continued. By the sound of her breath, Robin was really getting into it. Little cries and growls escaped, followed by Paul kissing her, probably to keep her quiet as much as anything. Then I heard a significant shifting of bodies, a noisier moment than I’d heard up until then. I took the opportunity to make a little noise myself and roll over. As I did, they shushed one another again and stopped moving. After I stopped moving, they started again.
I opened my eyes just a slit. I had learned long ago to open my eyes just enough to see, but to anyone else, my eyes still looked closed. What I saw in the very dark room was Robin, just a shadow, riding Paul cowgirl style. The movement I heard was apparently her climbing on top of him. She had him pinned and was lifting her ass up and down slowly, sliding his cock into her pussy at her pace. And her pace quickly started picking up.
I had my right hand on my socked cock immediately and was stroking as quietly but furiously as I could. I had been close when they interrupted me. Since I had never been in the same room as others having sex, the erotic thrill for me was intense. I was only a few strokes from climax. I heard Robin whisper in Paul’s ear. Was it about me? Did she suspect? Could she see me? I didn’t know, but I didn’t stop.
Her first moan did it for me. I came in blasts, soaking my socks to the max. Robin was still climbing to her climax, her breath quick and slightly vocal. Then I heard the deepest, longest moan of the night from her. Almost immediately, I heard a similar, deeper moan from Paul.
After a few minutes, they got themselves dressed. Paul walked Robin to her room. I put my soiled socks in the hamper and put my briefs back on. I was asleep before Paul came back.
None of us ever said anything about that night so I never knew if they caught me stroking to them fucking. But I never forgot it, often pleasuring myself to the memory, though, when I did, I didn’t always wrap my cock in socks.
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