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Jerking off with the Enemy

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by SAHABI 1@aol.com I'm a 21-year-old architecture major in my senior year. Every semester we are required to take a studio where we design a series of projects that are critiqued by the professor several times a week in front of everyone in the class. You can never predict which students might end up in your studio because the selection process is completely random. Unfortunately, I have ended up in a design studio with the same bastard every semester since my freshman year. His name is Jared and I truly believed that he had dedicated his life to making mine a living hell. He's one of those pretty people types!tall, dark hair (you know the ones). He's bi-racial (black Brazilian father and Tunisian mother) so he has tan-colored skin and these mesmerizing gray eyes. I swear it hurts to look at him. He works out at the rec center on campus religiously, so he's very well-built. His body is perfect, and he must know it because when he comes into studio to work on the weekends, he likes to wear those cotton t-shirts that suggestively cling to every muscle, as if he's trying to flaunt it. All the girls in the architecture department talk about him (and what they'd like to do with him) and Jared could easily have any of them. Somehow he manages to remain unattached. It's sickening really. No one should be given looks like that. One evening I had been driving through campus headed home and saw Jared jogging in my direction. He wasn't wearing a shirt and there was sweat all over him. His loose jogging pants were suggestively full up front and had a large wet spot in the crotch that had made me hard instantly. I had been so caught up in looking at him that I had nearly run off the road. When I got to my apartment I shot two large loads back to back just thinking about him. Anyways, I'm blabbering! Back to the point. What was most frustrating was the fact that not only did this guy have looks, but he also had talent and brains. And he knew that too, the cocky bastard! Every semester he had managed to rip my projects to shreds, embarrassing me in front of my professors and the students. It sometimes almost brought me to tears. He got a kick out of it. He did it on purpose and I hated him for it. Whenever I tried to strike back with some off-the-wall question about his work, I always failed. His ideas and projects were always sound, and as beautiful as he was. He would easily answer each and every one of my questions and deflect every criticism, the whole while giving me this cocky grin. One Friday earlier this past spring semester, it was once again my turn to get up and present my design project in studio. My professor listened attentively and after I was finished, she offered her criticism. Her comments were mild and I agreed with everything she said, and when she was done, she turned it over to student comments. Considering it was a Friday afternoon and I was the last person to speak, I figured I was in the clear. We had all pulled all-nighters to produce work for studio that day and everyone would be tired and just want to go home. I was wrong. I heard someone clear their throat and I instantly knew it was Jared. He had a beautiful smile on his face and in less than five sentences he had torn my project apart, exposing every flaw. He only did this with me. By the time it was all over, all my professor could suggest was that I start over. None of the other students in the class would even look at me, and my professor ended class for the day. To say I was infuriated would be an understatement. I was so hot behind the ears that I was slowly getting a headache. I snatched my drawings off the wall behind me with one hand and picked up my models with the other. I walked over to my studio desk and threw everything down in one large pile. I had to get out of that room. Speaking in front of people still makes me a little nervous, so I had needed to go take a piss and headed to the men's restroom. The bathroom was empty and I went to one of the urinals, unzipped my fly and pulled out my dick. I stared down at it. At least I had nothing to be humiliated by in that department, I thought to myself. I'm not cut, and close to 8 inches when hard. (Trust me! I'm an architecture student so I've measured!). What I am most proud of, however, is my girth. I can get my hand around my dick but my fingers don't touch unless I squeeze really tight. While I was pissing I began to move my foreskin back and forth and was semi-hard in no time. I didn't zip up after I finished pissing. I just stood there in front of the urinal playing with my dick. I slowly massaged my fat dickhead with my thumb and forefinger. It felt so good! I was leaking precum in no time, and the whole time my cock kept growing and growing. I'm a really heavy leaker so I smeared precum along the entire length of my dick and held my wet fingers up to my nose. This was just what I needed after a day like today. I slowly began to fuck my right hand and must have really gotten into it because I didn't even hear the bathroom door open. I didn't even realize there was anyone else in the restroom until the guy was practically standing right next to me at the other urinal to my left. There were no urinal dividers so once he stepped up to the urinal, I was out in full view, my hand and dick covered in precum. Imagine my shock when I looked up and saw Jared standing next to me. He took out his dick and started to piss and I pretended I was doing the same, hoping he hadn't realized what I had been doing. I shot a quick glimpse over at his cock to size him up. (C'mon, all guys do it!) Jared's dick was similar to mine in length and was a shade browner than the rest of him, but he was cut, and I had him beat in girth. At least I had outdone him in something! He let out a loud "ahhhh" and wrapped a large brown hand around his heavy dong and shook it a few times after he finished pissing. He didn't put his dick back in his pants, though. He kept is hand wrapped around it and it appeared to be getting harder. I figured I must be seeing things from lack of sleep. It wasn't until I looked up at his face that I realized Jared was grinning. He suddenly turned his head and looked at me. "What?" I asked. This only made him grin even wider! he was so beautiful! "You know what," he said, laughing. "Like I didn't see you." I was instantly angry again. Like this bastard hadn't humiliated me enough already. "Fuck you!" I stared right into his gray eyes. In one quick move Jared had wrapped his hand around my dick and moved so close to me that his cock was poking me in the stomach. He leaned down and whispered in my ear "You wish! What's your problem with me anyway?" His warm breath in my ear and the stubble from his five-o-clock shadow against my skin were driving me up the wall. The whole time Jared's hand was squeezing my cock and it felt so good, but I pushed him away from me. "You're the one with the problem! You're always making my life hell." Another guy had never touched my cock, and I would never have imagined in a million years that Jared would be the first. Jared kept smiling at me. He was stroking his cock with the precum from mine the whole time. "You're cute when you're mad, and that's why I do it. What, do you want me to make it up to you?" I was speechless. I didn't know if he were patronizing me or not and at this point I didn't care. All I could do was watch him. I couldn't believe this was happening. The guy I absolutely despised was jerking off right in front of me! First his strokes were slow, moving along the entire length of his dick, but they gradually got faster and faster, and precum was leaking from his cock. If I leaked like a faucet then Jared was a stream! He was producing so much lubricant until it was dripping from his knuckles to the floor. I was mesmerized by the sight. My eyes kept moving from Jared's eyes to his dick, and the whole time he was staring back at me. Someone could have walked in at any moment. The blue-purple veins in Jared's cock were bulging and the smacking sounds coming from his hand on his dick were echoing all over the bathroom. He would take his left hand and squeeze his dickhead, which only made him breathe even harder. Then he grabbed the base of his cock with his left hand and used his right to stroke his swollen, purple dickhead in a twisting motion. It appeared as though design was not all Jared was really good at. I was rock hard again and hadn't even touched my dick. He grinned at me and panted, "You like it?" I still couldn't say anything. Jared's hairy, dark brown ball-sack started to draw up and I knew he was about to cum. He closed his eyes and tightened his lips. He suddenly grunted "ahhhh, fuck yeah!," and streams of dick butter erupted out of his cock. The first shot landed on the floor right next to me. Jared tried to shoot the rest of his load in his left hand, but there was too much and he had to turn his dick towards the urinal. Jared kept milking himself. He was a really heavy cumer and it appeared as though his wad would never stop. Streams of thick dick cheese kept hitting the back of the urinal and slowly running down the porcelain into the water. As the last bit fell from his cock and plopped in the water, Jared squeezed his dickhead, tucked his swollen dick back into his pants and prepared to leave. As he walked right past me I was about to speak when Jared suddenly put the index finder of his left hand to my lips. "Shhhhh." I could smell the cum still on his fingers. He leaned down and whispered into my ear. "Truce?" I licked my lips and nodded. He then turned and walked away. I heard him wash his hands and leave the bathroom. I didn't leave that bathroom until the urinal with Jared's cum held several loads of my own. That wasn't my last time with Jared, but those are different experiences to share in the future. Let's just say that it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

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