The next morning, I woke up with my dick already half-hard, which had basically become my new normal. I could hear Sammy moving around the room, getting his shower stuff together, and just the sound of him was enough to make my cock twitch in my boxers.
"Morning, big guy," Sammy said cheerfully when he noticed I was awake. "Ready for our shower?"
Our shower. Like it was just this normal thing we did now.
"Yeah, sure," I mumbled, trying to sound casual even though my heart was already racing.
I grabbed my towel and followed him down the hall to the communal bathroom, my eyes immediately dropping to watch his ass as he walked ahead of me. Fuck. That ass. I couldn't stop staring at it. The way it moved under his thin athletic shorts was hypnotic—each cheek bouncing and jiggling slightly with every step, perfectly round and firm. The fabric clung to the curves, and I could see the definition where his glutes met his hamstrings. It was like watching two perfect globes of smooth muscle in constant, mesmerizing motion.
I shook my head, trying to clear it. What the fuck was wrong with me? I'd never stared at a dude's ass like this before. But I couldn't help it. Every time Sammy moved, my eyes were drawn right back to that perfect bubble butt.
In the shower, things got even worse.
The hot water cascaded over both of us in the cramped stall, and Sammy pressed his back against my chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. His wet skin was impossibly smooth against mine, and when he shifted his weight, his ass pressed right against my rapidly hardening cock.
"Mmm, someone's excited this morning," Sammy purred, reaching back to wrap his hand around my shaft. His grip was firm and confident, and he started stroking me slowly, his soapy hand gliding up and down my length.
"Fuck," I groaned, my hips jerking forward involuntarily.
"That's it, big guy," Sammy encouraged, his hand working me expertly. "Just relax and let me take care of you."
He stroked me for what felt like forever, building me up slowly, his thumb swirling around my sensitive head on every upstroke. My breathing got heavier, my abs tensing as pleasure built in my core. I was getting close, so fucking close—
And then he stopped.
"Alright, we should probably actually wash up," Sammy said casually, releasing my throbbing cock like he hadn't just been jerking me off.
"What? Dude, I was—"
"We've got class in twenty minutes," he said with an innocent smile, turning to face me. Water ran down his lean, toned body, and my eyes couldn't help but travel down to his own hard cock, then further down to where I could just barely see the curve of his ass from this angle.
I wanted to argue, to beg him to finish, but I just stood there like an idiot, my dick painfully hard and my balls aching.
The next morning was the same thing. Sammy's hand on my cock, stroking me until I was right on the edge, whimpering and desperate—and then nothing. He'd just smile and start washing his hair like my dick wasn't throbbing and leaking precum all over the place.
But it was when he bent over to pick up the dropped soap that I really lost my mind.
His back arched, and his ass pushed out toward me, the two perfect cheeks spreading just slightly as he bent. The water ran down the crack, and I could see everything—how smooth and hairless he was, how the muscle flexed as he moved, how fucking perfect and round and edible that ass looked. My mouth actually watered. I wanted to grab those cheeks, spread them wide, bury my face between them—
"You okay back there?" Sammy asked, glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smirk.
"Yeah, I'm—yeah," I stammered, my face burning.
He straightened up slowly, deliberately, and I watched his ass cheeks bounce and jiggle with the movement. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
By the third morning, I was going insane. Sammy had added a new element to his torture: after stroking me to the edge, he'd drop to his knees and take my cock in his mouth, his lips stretching obscenely around my thick shaft. He'd suck me deep, his throat working around my head, his tongue doing things that made my knees weak. And just when I was about to explode down his throat, he'd pull off with a wet pop and stand up.
"Can't have you cumming before class," he'd say with that infuriating smile. "You need to stay focused, right?"
I was anything but focused. All through my classes, all through practice, all I could think about was Sammy's mouth on my cock, Sammy's hand stroking me, and especially Sammy's perfect fucking ass. The way it looked wet and soapy in the shower. The way it jiggled when he walked. The way the cheeks spread when he bent over.
I was obsessed.
And it wasn't just in the showers anymore.
That first afternoon when I got back to the dorm after practice, exhausted and sweaty, Sammy was there doing homework at his desk. He looked up when I walked in and smiled.
"Rough practice?"
"Yeah," I grunted, dropping my gym bag and collapsing onto my bed.
"Want me to help you relax?"
I should have said no. I should have told him we needed to stop this weird shit we were doing. But instead, I heard myself say, "Yeah, okay."
Sammy got up and came over to my bed, his hands immediately going to the waistband of my athletic shorts. He pulled them down along with my compression shorts, and my half-hard cock sprang free.
"Fuck, you're already getting hard," Sammy said appreciatively, wrapping his hand around my shaft. "You been thinking about this all day?"
I didn't answer, but my cock twitched in his grip, which was answer enough.
He stroked me slowly at first, then faster, his hand working my length with practiced ease. I groaned, my hips lifting off the bed, chasing the sensation. He built me up and up, my breathing getting ragged, my abs clenching, my thighs tensing—
And then he stopped.
"Sammy, what the fuck—"
"Shh, you'll wake the whole floor," he said with a grin. "Besides, I've got a paper due tomorrow. Can't spend all afternoon on your dick."
He went back to his desk like nothing had happened, leaving me lying there with my cock hard and aching, precum leaking onto my abs.
"You're killing me, man," I groaned one evening after he'd edged me for the third time that day.
"Am I?" Sammy asked innocently, licking his lips. "I'm just trying to help you manage your stress. You know, keep you from getting too pent up."
"I'm more pent up now than I've ever been in my fucking life!"
"Hmm, maybe you need to find another outlet then," he suggested. "There's a party at Sigma Chi on Friday. You should go, hook up with some girls. Might help."
The idea made sense. Yeah. That's what I needed. I needed to hook up with a girl, prove to myself that I was still into women, that all this shit with Sammy was just... I don't know, some weird experimental phase or whatever. Just bros helping each other out.
So Friday night, I went to the party.
The Sigma Chi house was packed, music thumping so loud I could feel it in my chest. I grabbed a beer and started making my way through the crowd, trying to look casual and confident even though I felt weirdly out of place.
It didn't take long before a girl approached me. She was hot—blonde, tight dress, great tits. Exactly my type, or at least what I thought was my type before I got to college.
"Hey," she said, pressing close to me so I could hear her over the music. "You're on the football team, right? I've seen you at games."
"Yeah, linebacker," I said, taking a swig of my beer.
"I'm Ashley," she said, her hand landing on my bicep. "Damn, you're huge."
We talked for a bit, or tried to over the noise, and she kept touching me—my arms, my chest, my shoulders. She was clearly into me, and I should have been into her too. She was exactly the kind of girl I would have been all over back in high school.
But I felt... nothing. Well, not nothing exactly, but not what I should have been feeling.
"Want to go somewhere quieter?" Ashley asked, her hand sliding down to my abs.
"Yeah, sure," I said, because that's what I was supposed to say.
We found an empty bedroom upstairs, and as soon as the door closed, she was on me, kissing me hard, her hands roaming over my body. I kissed her back, trying to get into it, but my dick was barely responding.
Come on, I thought desperately. Get hard. She's hot. This is what you want.
Ashley's hand moved to my crotch, rubbing me through my jeans, and I felt my cock start to respond a little. But it wasn't the instant, rock-hard response I had with Sammy. It was sluggish, reluctant.
She unzipped my jeans and pulled out my cock, her eyes widening when she saw the size.
"Holy shit," she breathed. "That's fucking huge."
She started stroking me, and I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the sensation. But all I could think about was how different her hand felt from Sammy's. Her grip wasn't as confident, her rhythm wasn't as perfect. And when I opened my eyes and looked down at her, all I could think about was how much I wished I was looking at Sammy instead.
No. Fuck. Stop thinking about him.
I tried to focus on Ashley—her blonde hair, her tits, the way she was biting her lip as she jerked me off. But my cock was only half-hard, and it wasn't getting any harder.
Think about Sammy's ass, a traitorous voice in my head whispered. Think about how it looks when it's wet. How it jiggles when he walks. How smooth and perfect it is.
My cock immediately surged to full hardness in Ashley's hand.
"There we go," she said with a satisfied smile, stroking me faster.
But it felt wrong. I was hard, yeah, but only because I was thinking about my male roommate's ass. What the fuck was wrong with me?
Ashley tried to go down on me, but her mouth couldn't take even half my length, and she kept gagging and pulling off. It was nothing like when Sammy deep-throated me, taking my whole cock down his throat like it was nothing.
Stop. Thinking. About. Sammy.
"Maybe we should just fuck," Ashley suggested, pulling off her dress to reveal a matching bra and panty set.
I should have been excited. I should have been ripping those panties off and bending her over the bed. But instead, I just felt... tired. Frustrated. Confused.
"Is everything okay?" Ashley asked, looking confused and a little hurt.
"Yeah, I just—I'm really drunk," I lied. "I don't think I can finish."
"Oh. Okay."
I pulled my jeans back on and got out of there as fast as I could, leaving Ashley looking disappointed and confused. I felt like shit, but not as much as I felt confused and frustrated.
What the fuck was happening to me?
The next morning was even worse.
Sammy woke me up by climbing into my bed, his hand already wrapped around my morning wood.
"Good morning," he whispered against my ear, his breath hot on my skin.
"Sammy, what—"
"Shh," he said, stroking me slowly. "Just relax."
His hand felt incredible, warm and firm, and I was already leaking precum. He used it to slick his palm, making the glide even smoother. I groaned and thrust up into his grip.
"That's it," he encouraged. "Fuck my hand."
I did, my hips moving on their own, chasing the pleasure. Sammy's other hand moved to my chest, his fingers finding my nipple and pinching it lightly. The dual sensation made me gasp.
"Your body is so fucking hot," Sammy murmured, his hand speeding up on my cock. "These big muscles, this huge dick. You're perfect."
I was getting close, my breathing getting ragged, my abs tensing—
"Time for our shower," Sammy said, releasing me and climbing out of bed.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I groaned.
He just laughed and headed for the door. "Come on, big guy. Don't want to be late."
In the shower that morning, Sammy bent over to pick up the soap he'd "accidentally" dropped, and I got the best view yet of his ass. The water ran down his back and into his crack, and when he bent, his cheeks spread just enough that I could see his hole—pink and tight and perfect.
My cock was so hard it hurt. I wanted to grab his hips and slam into him right there, wanted to feel that tight heat around my cock, wanted to make him moan and beg—
"See something you like?" Sammy asked, looking back at me over his shoulder.
"You know I do," I said, my voice rough with need.
He straightened up slowly, deliberately, his ass cheeks bouncing with the movement. Then he pressed back against me, trapping my cock between his cheeks, and started moving.
The feeling of my cock sliding between those smooth, perfect globes was incredible. I groaned and grabbed his hips, trying to thrust harder, but he pulled away.
Sammy went back to the dorm room and I finished showering on my own.
When I burst into the dorm room, Sammy looked up from his phone, surprised.
"I need you," I blurted out.
Sammy's eyes widened, and then a slow smile spread across his face. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. I'm—fuck, Sammy, I'm losing my mind. I can't stop thinking about you. About your body. About your—" I couldn't say it.
"My ass?" Sammy supplied, standing up. "You can't stop thinking about my ass?"
"Yes," I groaned. "It's all I think about. When I'm in class, at practice, trying to sleep. I see it when I close my eyes. I dream about it. I'm fucking obsessed."
"Good," Sammy said, walking toward me. "Because I've been waiting for you to admit it."
He reached up and pressed his palms against my pecs, feeling the size and weight of them, and I felt my nipples harden under his touch.
"I love your body," Sammy said, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. "These big fucking pecs. So thick and heavy."
He leaned in and licked across my left nipple, and I gasped at the sensation. It was more intense than I expected, pleasure shooting straight from my nipple to my cock.
"Sensitive," Sammy observed with a grin. "I'm going to have so much fun with these."
He pushed me back onto my bed and climbed on top of me, straddling my hips. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my abs through his shorts, and my own cock was straining against my towel.
"Just relax," Sammy said, his hands roaming over my chest. "Let me take care of you."
He leaned down and took my right nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. I arched off the bed, my hands fisting in the sheets. The sensation was incredible—wet and hot and intense.
Sammy's tongue swirled around my nipple, and then he bit down gently. I cried out, my hips bucking up involuntarily. He released it and moved to the other one, giving it the same treatment—licking, sucking, biting.
"Fuck, Sammy," I groaned. "That feels so good."
"I know," he murmured against my skin. "I can feel how hard your cock is. You love having your tits played with, don't you?"
I should have been embarrassed by the way he called them tits, but instead it just made me harder. "Yes," I admitted.
"Say it," he demanded, his teeth grazing my nipple. "Tell me you love having your pec tits worshipped."
"I—fuck—I love it," I gasped. "I love having my pec tits worshipped."
"Good boy," Sammy praised, and the words sent a shiver through me.
He spent what felt like hours on my chest, his mouth moving between my nipples, licking and sucking and biting. He was sloppy with it, letting his saliva drip down my chest, making obscene wet sounds. The smell of his spit mixed with my sweat filled the air, musky and masculine.
At one point, he pushed my pecs together and buried his face between them, motorboating me. I couldn't help but laugh, but the laughter turned into a moan when he started licking the valley between my pecs, his tongue tracing the line of muscle.
"So fucking big," he muttered, his hands squeezing my pecs. "So thick and hard. I could worship these all day."
He went back to my nipples, and this time he was rougher—biting harder, sucking harder, his teeth scraping over the sensitive buds. The pleasure was almost too much, bordering on pain, and I was writhing beneath him.
"Please," I begged. "Please, Sammy—"
"Please what?" he asked, looking up at me with dark, lust-filled eyes.
"I need—I need more. I need to cum. Please let me cum."
"Not yet," he said, but his hand moved to the bulge in my towel, palming my hard cock through it. "But soon. I promise."
He went back to my chest, and I felt like I was losing my mind. My nipples were so sensitive now that every touch sent sparks of pleasure through my body. I could feel precum leaking in my jeans, could feel my cock throbbing with need.
Sammy's mouth was relentless, working my nipples until they were swollen and oversensitive. He'd suck on one until I was gasping, then move to the other, then back again. His saliva was everywhere, making my chest slick and shiny.
"Look at you," he said, sitting back to admire his work. "Your nipples are so hard and red. You're such a good boy, letting me play with your tits like this."
I was panting, my chest heaving, my whole body trembling with need. I'd never felt anything like this before—this overwhelming pleasure from just having my chest played with. I felt like I was gooning, my brain going fuzzy, unable to think about anything except the sensation of Sammy's mouth on my skin.
"I think you're ready now," Sammy said, his hand moving to pull off my towel. "Ready for me to really take care of you."
My cock sprang free, fully hard and leaking. Sammy's eyes lit up when he saw it.
"Fuck, I love your cock," he said, wrapping his hand around it. "So big and thick. Perfect for stretching out my jock pussy."
The phrase made my cock throb in his hand.
"You want to fuck my jock pussy?" Sammy asked, stroking me slowly. "Want to feel how tight and hot it is?"
"Yes," I groaned. "Fuck, yes."
"Then you're going to have to earn it," he said, releasing my cock and standing up. "You're going to have to show me how much you want it."
He stripped off his clothes, and I watched hungrily as his body was revealed. His lean, toned torso. His hard cock. And then he turned around, and I saw his ass.
Two smooth, round globes of muscle, completely hairless, the skin looking soft and touchable. I wanted to grab it, squeeze it, bite it, worship it.
"Like what you see?" Sammy asked, looking back at me over his shoulder.
"You know I do," I said, my voice rough.
"Then come here and touch it," he said. "I know you've been dying to."
I got up and moved behind him, my hands shaking as I reached out. When my palms made contact with his ass, I groaned. It was warm and firm, the muscle flexing under my touch. I squeezed, and the flesh gave way slightly before bouncing back.
"Fuck," I breathed. "Your ass is perfect."
"I know," Sammy said. "Now spread my cheeks. I want you to see my pussy."
I did as he said, my hands gripping his cheeks and pulling them apart. His hole was revealed—pink and tight, clenching slightly. I stared at it, mesmerized, my mouth watering.
I pressed my thumb against his hole, not pushing inside, just applying pressure. Sammy pushed back against me, and I felt the muscle start to give way.
"Not yet," I said, pulling my hand back. "I want to tease you like you've been teasing me."
Sammy laughed. "Fair enough."
I grabbed his hips and positioned my cock between his ass cheeks, just like he'd done to me in the shower. Then I started moving, sliding my cock up and down his crack, feeling the smooth skin against my shaft.
"Fuck," Sammy moaned. "Your cock feels so good."
I thrust harder, my cock sliding between his cheeks, the head catching on his hole with every upstroke. The sensation was incredible, and I could feel precum leaking from my tip, making the glide even smoother.
"You like that?" I asked, my hands gripping his ass, squeezing the cheeks around my cock. "Like feeling my cock between your ass?"
"Yes," Sammy gasped. "Fuck, yes. I love it."
I kept going, hotdogging him, watching my cock slide between those perfect globes. The sight was almost as good as the feeling—seeing my thick shaft disappear between his cheeks, seeing them jiggle with every thrust, seeing the way they spread slightly when I squeezed them.
"I want to fuck you," I said, my voice rough with need. "I want to bury my cock in your jock pussy and fuck you until you can't walk."
"Then do it," Sammy said. "Fuck me. Use my jock pussy."
But I wasn't done teasing yet. I pulled back and grabbed the lube from his nightstand, pouring some on my fingers. Then I reached between his cheeks and found his hole, rubbing the lube around it.
"Please," Sammy whimpered. "Please, Darren."
I pushed one finger inside, and we both groaned. He was so tight, his hole gripping my finger like a vice. I worked it in and out slowly, feeling him relax around me, and then added a second finger.
"Fuck," Sammy gasped. "Your fingers are so thick."
I scissored them, stretching him, and Sammy pushed back against my hand. I could feel his hole clenching around my fingers, could hear the wet sounds as I worked him open.
"More," Sammy begged. "I need more."
I added a third finger, and Sammy cried out. I could feel him trembling, could see his cock leaking onto the sheets below. I worked my fingers in and out, curling them to find that spot inside him that would make him see stars.
When I found it, Sammy nearly screamed. "There! Fuck, right there!"
I rubbed that spot over and over, and Sammy was writhing, his hole clenching around my fingers, his cock dripping. But I didn't let him cum. Every time he got close, I'd slow down, pulling him back from the edge.
I poured lube on my cock, stroking myself to spread it around. Then I positioned myself behind Sammy, the head of my cock pressing against his hole.
"Just the tip first," Sammy said. "Let me feel that fat head stretching my pussy ring."
I pushed forward slowly, and the head of my cock popped inside. We both groaned at the sensation—me at the tight heat gripping my head, him at the stretch.
"Fuck," I gasped. "You're so tight."
"And you're so big," Sammy panted. "Hold still. Let me work my jock pussy on your cock."
He started clenching and releasing around just my head, the tight ring of muscle massaging my most sensitive spot. It was the most intense thing I'd ever felt, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from cumming.
"Feel that?" Sammy asked. "Feel my pussy ring squeezing your fat cock head?"
"Yes," I groaned. "Fuck, Sammy—"
"Stroke the rest of your shaft," he ordered. "But don't you dare cum."
I wrapped my hand around the length of my cock that wasn't inside him and started stroking. The combination of sensations—his tight hole gripping my head, my hand working my shaft—was almost too much.
"Good boy," Sammy praised. "Look how good you're doing. Stroking that big cock while my jock pussy squeezes your tip."
I was right on the edge, my whole body tensing, my orgasm building—
"Stop," Sammy commanded.
I froze, my hand releasing my cock, and I stood there trembling, so close to cumming I could taste it.
"Not yet," Sammy said. "I'm not done with you."
He pushed back slowly, taking more of my cock inside him, and I watched in awe as his hole stretched around my shaft. Inch by inch, he took me deeper, until finally his ass was pressed against my hips and I was buried balls-deep inside him.
"Fuck," I groaned. "You feel so good."
"So do you," Sammy moaned. "Your cock is stretching my jock pussy so good. So big and thick and perfect."
He started moving, pulling forward until just my tip was inside, and then slamming back down, taking me balls-deep in one hard thrust. The slap of his ass against my hips was obscenely loud, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from the sight of his perfect bubble butt bouncing on my cock.
"Watch my ass," Sammy panted. "Watch it jiggle while I fuck myself on your huge cock."
I watched. God, I watched. Every time he slammed back onto me, his cheeks rippled and bounced, the smooth muscle jiggling from the impact. When he pulled forward, I could see my cock sliding out of his hole, slick with lube, and then disappearing back inside when he slammed down again.
The sounds were incredible—the wet slapping of skin on skin, the squelching of lube, Sammy's moans, my own ragged breathing. The smell of sex filled the room, musky and primal.
"You love my ass, don't you?" Sammy said, really working himself on my cock now. "Love watching it bounce. Love how smooth and perfect it is."
"Yes," I groaned. "Fuck, yes, I love it."
"Say it," he demanded. "Tell me you love my ass."
"I love your ass," I moaned. "I fucking love your perfect bubble butt. I can't stop thinking about it. I'm obsessed with it."
He was long-dicking me now, pulling almost all the way off so just my head was inside, holding there for a torturous moment, and then slamming down balls-deep. Over and over, the rhythm driving me insane.
I could feel every inch of my cock sliding in and out of his tight heat, could hear the wet squelching sounds, could see his hole gripping my shaft. My hands were on his hips, feeling the flex of his muscles as he moved, feeling the impact every time he slammed down on me.
"Sammy, please," I begged. "Please let me cum. I can't—I need—"
"Not yet," he said, but his voice was strained now too. "Just a little longer."
But I couldn't take it anymore. Something inside me snapped.
All I wanted was to get back to Sammy.
The realization hit me like a truck. I wanted Sammy. Not just his mouth or his hands or whatever the fuck we were doing. I wanted him. I wanted to see him, talk to him, touch him, make him smile.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.
I grabbed his hips hard enough to bruise and took control, pulling him back onto my cock as I thrust forward. Sammy cried out in surprise and pleasure as I started pounding into him, all my pent-up frustration and need pouring out in hard, desperate thrusts.
"Fuck, yes!" Sammy moaned. "Fuck my jock pussy! Use me!"
I was beyond words, beyond thought. I just fucked him, hard and deep, my hips slamming against his ass with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping on skin was deafening, and Sammy was moaning non-stop, his hole clenching around me.
"So good," he babbled. "Your cock is so good. Fuck me harder. Harder!"
I gave him everything I had, my muscles straining, sweat dripping down my body. I watched my cock disappear into his ass over and over, watched his cheeks ripple and bounce with every impact, watched his hole stretch around my girth.
"I'm gonna cum," Sammy warned. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum just from your cock in my pussy—"
His whole body tensed, and then he was cumming, his cock spurting all over the sheets without either of us touching it. His hole clenched down on me so hard I saw stars, and that was it—I couldn't hold back anymore.
"Sammy, I'm—fuck, I'm cumming!"
I slammed in balls-deep one final time and let go.
The orgasm hit me like a freight train. My vision actually whited out for a second, and every muscle in my body locked up. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me, so intense. My cock throbbed and pulsed, pumping what felt like gallons of cum deep inside Sammy's ass.
I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel. It went on and on, my cock jerking and spurting, my whole body shaking with the force of it. I'd never cum this hard in my life—not with any girl, not even jerking off. This was something else entirely, something that rewired my brain and left me completely undone.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the waves started to subside. I collapsed forward onto Sammy's back, both of us panting and trembling. My cock was still inside him, still twitching with aftershocks, and I could feel my cum leaking out around my shaft.
"Holy fuck," I managed to gasp out.
"Yeah," Sammy agreed breathlessly. "Holy fuck."
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us trying to catch our breath. Then, carefully, I pulled out, and we both groaned at the sensation.
Sammy collapsed onto his stomach, and I fell onto my back beside him, my chest heaving. My whole body felt like jello, completely wrung out and satisfied in a way I'd never experienced before.
After a few minutes, I reached over and pulled Sammy into my arms, tucking him against my chest. He came willingly, his back pressed against my front, and I wrapped my arms around him.
"That was..." I started, but I didn't know how to finish.
"Intense?" Sammy supplied.
"Yeah. Really fucking intense."
We lay there in comfortable silence, and I realized something: I felt good. Really good. All the stress and tension I'd been carrying since I got to campus was gone. My mind felt clear, my body felt relaxed, and for the first time in weeks, I wasn't anxious or worried or confused.
Well, okay, I was still confused. But in a different way.
Because lying here with Sammy in my arms felt right. More right than anything had felt in a long time. And that scared the shit out of me.
I wasn't supposed to be into guys. I wasn't supposed to be cuddling with my male roommate after fucking him. I wasn't supposed to be thinking about how good he felt in my arms, how much I liked the smell of his hair, how much I wanted to do this again.
But I was thinking all those things.
"You okay?" Sammy asked quietly.
"Yeah," I said, and it wasn't entirely a lie. "Just... processing."
"Take your time," he said, his hand coming up to rest on my arm. "No rush."