Summer Nights

I always tried to be very discreet about masturbation. 

Not that I was ever embarrassed that I did it, everybody (well, most people) do. It was just something you had to do, but were supposed to keep private.  Like cleaning the dirt from under your finger nails or trimming your nose hair.  OK, much more enjoyable. But you didn't want to be doing either one at the breakfast table. 

I knew my roommate masturbated.  He knew I masturbated.  He would lend me his Penthouse magazines after he'd looked through them for awhile.  I'm sure he didn't think I was reading the articles. 

OK, maybe the Letters. 

He was much more a ladies' man than I was. Or, at least he fancied himself such. Apparently, a few attractive and really quite nice women agreed.  At least, for awhile.  I'm not sure whether he intended his casual sex to be quite as casual as it was, but...yeah.  But point being at this point in time, he was gettin' laid and I wasn't.  So, those Penthouse mags?  Yeah, I did have fun with them. And I'm sure he did. So, in the broad sense, I didn't feel awkward knowing that he knew what I was doing with them.  But he had the REAL THING, too.  So, I often DID feel a little awkward while I was getting off to them alone in my room at 11 or 12 at night when he was also around and I was pretty sure he knew exactly what I was up to in there behind my closed door as I was quietly doing myself. 

Not awkward enough NOT to do it, of course. But, still... 

His room and my room were at opposite ends, or sides, of a very short hallway, almost an alcove, I guess. Pretty close together. 

In the summer, he'd keep the door to his room open and we'd have all the windows up at night with a fan or two on and let the breeze come through the apartment. No ACs for us back then. His room had a sort of entryway you'd have to go through before getting into the bedroom so it's not like you could see what was going on unless you were in the room. He wasn't an exhibitionist or anything. 

But you could hear what was going on. 

I had a regular 10' by 10' room and I'd close the door when I went to bed (or when I was masturbating) even in the summer. 

My roommate wouldn't. 

So we're into early July that first summer living with him.  It's sometime after midnight.  And it's still hot.  I'm up reading a book and decide to go to sleep.  So, I click off my light, roll out of bed and go out to the bathroom before going to sleep.  I do my business and as soon as I'm back in the little hallway between our rooms I hear it. 

Slurpslurpslurpslurp...Sluuuurp....sluuurp... slurpslurpslurpslurpslurp...

It wasn't very loud but it was loud enough and... I didn't know what to do. I'd heard him having sex before, well, heard the women more than him (thankfully!) but that's another matter. That's gonna happen when you live with your friends. It's fine. Not like overhearing your parents getting it on. That would be...awkward, I think. 

But, there wasn't anyone there that night; he was alone. 

So then, that means he he was...Duh! I stopped for a couple seconds suddenly wondering if he hadn't realized I'd gotten up and could hear him going at it.  And then I realized that wait, what??? I could hear him going at it. 

Slurpslurpsluuurrrp...sluuuurrrrp....sluuurrrrp... sluuurrrrpslurpslurpslurp... mooooaaan(!)...slurpslurpslurp...  

And I really didn't know how I should think or feel about that.  Does he even know I can hear him?  Does he care?  He's like 10 feet away from me on his bed masturbating and suddenly my brain is like: I CAN HEAR HIM STROKING HIS PENIS. 

Not that I didn't know he did it, but...now I was actually listening to him doing it!

Slurp ,slurp, slurp...

OK, well...I could tell he was using lube - you know that sound your hand males as you work your penis - and I'm thinking, "oh, that's cool. I do that too, feels great!" and it's not like I'm turned on or grossed out but just thinking I shouldn't be there eavesdropping on him doing himself. "Yeah, OK, have fun." And then I quickly shuffled the few steps back to my room so as not to disturb him and not feel, well, a little bit awkward standing there listening to him... moaning. The sound of his hand on his penis didn't bother me, but when he moaned or groaned in pleasure, that was... too intimate. That wasn't meant for me, I thought.  I'm not supposed to hear THAT.  If that makes any sense. 

Slurp, slurp, slurp...

I got to my room and started to close the door and then stopped.

Slurp... slurp... slurp... slurp... slurp... slurp...

He'd changed his rhythm. 

I could still hear him. He'd settled into a steady rhythm now and...I was just fascinated.  I could imagine it, not too tight, just enough... nice & steady and wet and slippery. I did that, too. He was into it... And I thought it wasn't such a bad thing then that I was into doing it, too. I mean, he was having sex pretty regularly, and he had porn and here he was doing himself (obviously not looking at porn because his lights were off) and my hand was in my boxers and I was already hard and I held myself and leaned against my doorjamb and listened as my roommate masturbated. 

Slurp... slurp... slurp... slurp... slurp... slurp...

I wondered if he could hear me when I was stroking myself. Was it that loud? Usually I had my door closed so, probably not. 

Slurp... slurp... slurp... slurp... slurp... slurp....

I thought if I was using lube which I did when I wasn't looking at this mags maybe he could.  One, I didn't want to get his mags wet with the lube and, honestly, looking at the nude women AND using lube was just too much - I'd cum in just a couple minutes.  I know I didn't moan or groan or... well, not when he was home, I didn't. I was really hard. I knew he was, too.... 

Slurp...slurp...slurp...I wasn't masturbating, it just felt nice to hold it... wait, he stopped.  Oh...had he cum?  Oh, OK. I guess... 

Slurp... slurp...slurp, slurp, slurp, slurp, slurp...

Nope I guess not...I got it: it's fun to pause and then... 

SLURP, SLURP, SLURP, SLURP, SLURPSLURPSLURPSLURPSLURP... !!!

Oh, geeze, no way I'm not gonna hear THAT!  He is going for it!  Holy s**t, is he...?

SLURPSLURPSLURPSLURP...!

(bed begins to squeak)

I can't believe I'm hearing this. And I'm moving my own hand, now. 

SLURPSLURP.SLURP... !

Oh he is, yeah... he's gonna...

UUUUUHHHHHHNNNNN...

(bed squeaks repeatedly)

He must be bucking his hips...

I slowly drop to the floor, my back against the doorframe, shove down my boxers and I'm masturbating too, now.

UHHHH....uhhhh...huh....

OK...I just heard him cum. I'm now death-grip fist-pumping myself vigorously.  And I'm gonna cum pretty quick. 

SLURP,SLURP,SLURP,SLURP...!

Wait...what?  I'd thought he'd finished. I release my dick. 

UUUUUUUAAAHHHHH!  

(bed squeaks a few times rhythmically, then stops)

UHHHH....uhhhhh...!

(PAUSE)

uh....

Oh, OK, THAT was his orgasm, I guess... And then I hear his bead squeak and creak, and he's clearing his throat, and OH S**T I think he's coming out of his room!  I hear him walk out of his room and then toward the bathroom and I'm sitting there on my floor with my boxers off and my erection in my hand and my door only half closed and ... I hear the bathroom door close and I quickly get up pulling up my shorts and close my door and quietly climb into bed.  Then I squirm out of my boxers roll onto my back then sit up, shove the covers down to midthigh, spit in my hand and grab hold of myself and flop down on my back and softly and quietly, with only a hint of the squeaky squelchy spit covered cock quickly pump myself to my own silent orgasm as I hear my roommate leave the bathroom and head back to his room.