Page 24 of Bad Pucking Roommate

I don’t have any answers except for one–if Luca wants me to join, I won’t object.

I’m kind of curious what that would be like since I’ve come to realize I like the way Luca’s strong hands feel on me. I’m also keenly aware that’s a dangerous thing to wonder about.

While I’m not here because of some residual childhood nostalgia like Niko would suggest, I’m conscious of the fact that my feelings for Luca are complicated. I admire him as an athlete, as a person, and recently, if I’m being totally honest, I’ve started to admire him as a man.

So far, I think that’s situational. It’s hard not to get aroused when you’re in the same room as other aroused people, and it’s hard not to appreciate the musculature of a fellow athlete, but it’s more than that. I like the way he looks at me. It makes it seem like I’m the only person in the room–in the world, at that moment. It’s not his body I’m drawn to, so much as his eyes, his face, and the way heneedsme to come.

It’s a slippery slope. I know that. Yet, I don’t want to stop this. At some point, helping Luca fulfill his pregame ritual became my thing too. Except, where he’s doing this for the game, it’s more than that for me. It’s filling a void I didn’t know existed until Staci brought it to light.

Tonight, without another person to be a catalyst, or a buffer, whatever happens will be between just the two of us. And depending on what happens… It might confirm some things in my mind that I’m not ready to address or admit, not even to myself.

On second thought, it might be best if I’m strictly the audience tonight, nothing more.

No touching, no admiring, nothing.

Just watching, here in the room.

“No problem,” I say with more confidence than I feel as I follow Luca to his bedroom. “It’s been just the two of us before, so I’ll just watch like I did those other times.”

Luca gives me a curt nod and stands in front of the bed while I take the chair across the room, facing him. Eyes locked on mine, lipspressed tightly together, he reaches inside his pants and starts to stroke himself.

I’m aware of his arm moving—I’m always aware of everything he does—I’m just choosing not to focus on it. I keep my gaze firmly on his face, giving him some degree of privacy in a less than private moment. Normally, that’s enough. Tonight, rather than the telltale buildup of an imminent release, I see only frustration in Luca’s expression.

“This isn’t working,” he huffs before ripping his shirt over his head and dropping his pants. “I think I need you to look at me.”

“I am looking.”

“I mean look at what I’m doing.” His voice holds a note of desperation that I haven’t heard since we started down this path, and knowing what’s behind that panic, I bob my head yes and let my eyes drift to his groin.

He’s fisting his half-hard cock, the tip just barely poking out from the gap between his thumb and forefinger. The muscles in his forearm flex and contract as he moves his hand over his length, which does appear to grow under my watch, and even though it feels a little strange to be observing him so openly, I don’t hate the view.

Aside from that first night with Staci, where I was so stunned by the sudden weight of Luca’s cock in my hand that I couldn’t help but stare, I haven’t really looked at it. Obviously, I saw it, and felt it, but staring at it seemed too forward, so I always averted my eyes. Now that I have permission to look, it’s hard not to. Especially since Luca’s uncut.

A few of our teammates are similarly adorned, though no one really talks about that or draws attention to it, so foreskin is a pretty foreign concept to me. And now that I can see it clearly, I’m sort of fascinated by the way it pulls back to reveal more of Luca’s tip as he punches through his fist. Or how that tip almost disappears completely whenhe retreats. Most of all, I wonder if it feels as silky against his crown as it does on my fingertips, and whether I’m missing out by not having any.

Based on the soft moan Luca utters when his thumb grazes over it, I think maybe I am.

As I imagine what he must be feeling to elicit such a seductive sound, I realize my mouth is uncharacteristically dry. I’m parched. I lick my lips and swallow thickly, hoping to create enough moisture to keep breathing without choking. But I choke anyway when Luca twists his wrist on an upstroke, pushing a drop of precum from his slit.

It glistens in the dim light of the room, lingering on his tip just long enough to assume a teardrop shape before it trickles down the round slope and disappears behind the thin veil of skin surrounding his crown.

Oh wow.

Luca slides his hand to the base of his shaft, giving it a firm squeeze before releasing it to fondle his balls. The act of rolling those globes in his palm has his dick bobbing in a rhythm that borders on hypnotic, and once again I have to force myself to swallow before I start gasping.

“That’s better,” Luca grunts as he fists his cock, stroking it with greater urgency. “Now you.”

I feel my face heat as I blink him back into focus. “What?”

“Now you.” His eyes drift to the juncture between my thighs, and bulge resting there.

Holy crap.I’m hard. Likehard, hard. That’s never happened before. I mean, I might’ve felt a little tingle or something, but it never escalated to this level. Not withjustLuca in the room.

“This is… I… What?”

“Don’t overthink it. Get over here and rub your cock againstmine.”

His command keeps me out of my head long enough to shed my clothes and step into his space. But that’s as far as I get. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

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