As Ken slowly pumped his hand around his erection, Tommy recalled how the Eta Omega Epsilon sister had taken tiny, short licks along the head of his dick while doing the same. That girl had some serious skills. Tommy could still remember how her warm breath felt as she slowly engulfed the dome, only now when he fantasized, Trisha’s intense, brown eyes stared up at him as her sexy lips wrapped around his member. Mmm, what a nice thought! It would be so awesome to have her pretty pout surrounding my cock.
Tommy glanced over to Ken’s face, noting the raptured look in his eyes and the way he bit down on his lower lip. He was ready to blow. Ah, shit, I lost count.
“Ngh!” Ken moaned hardily, releasing his explosion to splat against his belly and run down his hand. Panting unevenly, Ken cut his gaze in Tommy’s direction. “Fucking idiot, are you really sitting here watching me?”
Tommy shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Pervert.” Ken stood to grab some tissues from the box on the dresser. He cleaned his hands before starting on his stomach and cock. He had pulled up his shorts and straightened his clothing, his red face glistening with afterglow. “Next time, why don’t you just get on your knees and help me out since you’re so in love with my dick.”
Tommy frowned as he threw Ken a dismissive look. “As if!”
Ken shrugged matter-of-factly. “You were getting hard again by watching me.”
Shaking his head and twisting his face, Tommy denied the charges. “Only because I started thinking about Trisha and how she’d look with her lips wrapped around…Ow!” Before Tommy could finish his sentence, Ken punched him in the arm.
“That’s worse, you degenerate bastard. How dare you fantasize about the love of my life! If those molasses-sweet doe eyes are going to be looking up at anyone while those red, pouty lips wrap around his junk, it’s going to be me. Don’t even dream of contaminating her pretty face with your disgusting pecker!”
“Geez, for someone prone to grunting out half sentences, that was sort of poetic. You’ve thought about that description…a lot. Is there a secret fantasy diary around here I don’t know about?” Tommy’s gaze darted around the room.
“Do the words shut up, mean anything to you?” Ken delivered one of his old comebacks. “If such a thing existed, I’m sure your nosy ass would have already found it.”
Tommy smiled proudly. “True.” Ken was pretty quick with a quip when only speaking to him, but his friend wasn’t being fair. “Trisha is the love of my life, too. If I can’t fantasize about her, neither can you.” Tommy folded his arms across his bare chest as he protested.
Ken stood silently, looking off to the side as if deep in thought. “Don’t ask, don’t tell?”
Tommy snorted. “Sure, President Clinton, we’ll go with that for now.”
The corners of Ken’s mouth started to turn up into a tiny smile but stopped and he huffed. “Could you please put on some fucking clothes? Unlike you, I’m not interested in looking at other guys’ cocks. We need to clean up this shithole and get all the booze, snacks, and sundries ready before Trisha arrives and finds us with our dicks in our hands.”
As the absurdity hit, a loud, heavy laugh coming from way down in Tommy’s gut filled the air between him and Ken. He hooted until his stomach hurt. While bending his knees, he rested his hands on them for support. “Okay, I got it.”
“What’s so funny?” Ken stretched his arms up over his head.
“You’re always blunt as hell, but when it’s only the two of us talking, your vocabulary and word count skyrocket. I must be your happy place.”
Ken’s jaw dropped and he stared as if Tommy had grown a huge tit on his forehead. Shaking his head, he retorted, “Are you high? Just go get dressed, dummy.”
Tommy stoked the fire. “Aw, don’t be mad, Kenny Wenny…”
“Shut up.”
“Why so sour?” Tommy took a step toward him. Ken held two hands up in front of him. Tommy recognized the stance from Ken’s karate competitions. “If you make a run at me with your dick flopping, I will drop your naked ass.”
Torn, Tommy froze in place to perform a risk assessment. Teasing Ken would be immensely satisfying. After all, piercing the veil of his quiet dignity was no easy task, and he’d managed to ruffle Ken’s feathers. Failing to squeeze every drop of pleasure he could get out of the situation would be shameful. On the other hand, heeding his buddy’s warning was his safest bet. Ken could look disconcertingly calm when he was furious so gauging how far his friend could be pushed was difficult at best.
Outside of competition, Tommy had only seen Ken attack one guy, some asshole that dared to raise a hand to
