Chapter 10 #2
Huffing out a breath, I hand over the ruler and stand from her bed.
I leave her room and head out to the small kitchenette to make breakfast. The dorm building we live in consists of eight rooms across four floors.
Each floor has their own private bathroom, a small living space, and a kitchenette equipped with some storage space, a fridge/freezer, microwave, and air fryer.
As much as I wanted to experience college life, the thought of going into shared dorms brought on some anxiety I wasn’t ready to face.
Maybe it’s because I’ve isolated myself for so long, but I knew I needed my own space.
So when I found this building was an option, my parents helped pay for it, and it gave me the privacy I crave, mixed in with living with someone completely new.
I’m lucky to have been paired with Stassie because she’s made my time at Whilton U all the more enjoyable.
Grabbing my protein mix from the cupboard, I prepare my shake before making my oats. While it’s cooking in the microwave, I peel a banana, ready to chop into my oats.
I stare at the fruit in my hand, the way my fingers curl around it, and I’m hit with the image of my hand wrapped around Tyler’s cock.
He’s bigger than I expected him to be. Maybe it’s because I’ve only ever caught glimpses of him soft, but in all the fantasies I used to have about him, he wasn’t as big. As thick.
Not that I’m complaining. It’s one beautiful dick, even though I only have porn to compare it to.
What would it be like to suck him into my mouth? Would my lips stretch around him? Would he feel strange against my tongue? All hot, hard heat.
What would he taste like?
Salty, I imagine. I’ve tasted my own cum when I got curious after staring at it pooling on my stomach one time, but would he taste different?
I swallow roughly, my mouth drying at the thought.
I think I could do it. Maybe I can ask him to teach me how he would like it. Talk me through step by step, praise me when I’m doing something he likes.
Still staring at the banana in my hand, my lips part, and I suck in a shaky breath. I raise the banana until it’s in front of me, the tip only inches away from my mouth. It’s not as wide as him, or as long, but it has a gentle curve to it that’s similar to his cock.
Before I can think twice about what the fuck I’m doing, I gently push the banana between my lips, making sure to keep my teeth clear from catching it. When I’ve taken an inch of the fruit, I hollow my cheeks and suck, using my tongue to tease the tip, like I would if it were Tyler.
My own cock stirs in my shorts, clearly loving the idea. I take another inch, then another, not wanting to force myself to deep-throat, but taking it back as deep as I feel comfortable with. I slowly pump the banana into my mouth, curling my tongue around it.
I pull it out until only my lips are wrapped around the tip, and then I hear someone clearing their throat.
I freeze. Lips still wrapped around the banana, I slowly turn my head toward the door, where Stassie is standing. Her cheeks are flushed a deep shade of pink, and she’s pressing her fingertips to her mouth, trying to shield her laughter, no doubt.
My eyes widen, and I drop the banana to the countertop like it’s burned me.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I say in a panic.
She giggles. “Colby, you don’t have to be embarrassed with me. It’s not exactly what I had in mind, but it works.”
The microwave pings, and I pick up the banana again, taking a large bite, and mumble, “I hate you.”
“Love you too. Now, be good!” she says, turning around and walking away. “I’ll bring you some pasta.”
“And a cookie,” I call after her.
I hear her laugh, and then the door closes behind her, and I’m left staring at the banana in my hand.
I guess I’ve figured out what I want the next topic of our lessons to be.
Taking Stassie’s advice, I skip going to the library and use the day to chill. Coach Vaughn has given us the day off to rest and recuperate before we hit training hard tomorrow, so I watch some TV on my laptop and demolish the pasta and cookie Stassie brings me when she gets back from her class.
After I’m showered and have gotten changed into some jeans and a henley, I pull on a hoodie and make the walk over to Tyler’s house. The nights are getting lighter now, and it’s a pretty mild night for early April.
I haven’t been to Tyler’s house before, but it would be hard to miss. There are people sitting on the porch with drinks in hand. The dull throb of music can be heard from the sidewalk every time someone opens the front door.
My hands begin to tremble with nerves. I know I’m not about to walk into a house full of strangers.
Most of my teammates are bound to be inside, but it’s the sense of the unknown that comes with walking into a large group of people.
I just want to blend in. Be able to enjoy myself without my spine being stiff, on edge for potential threats.
All it would take is for someone to film me doing something stupid and post it on the internet for my future to start crumbling.
Would drinking out of a keg cost me a sponsor? I’m not even old enough to legally drink, not that others my age give a damn, but would teams see that as reckless and unacceptable and scratch my name off their wish list?
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I take a steadying breath and walk up the path and head inside. It isn’t as busy as the party I went to the other week, but it’s still busier than I’d like.
I search the room for Tyler, hoping that once I find him, I’ll be able to relax. There’s a group of guys in the living room playing a video game on the TV as girls sit around them, and some sit in their laps. I peer into every room until I find the kitchen.
“McKay! What can I get for you?”
I follow the voice and find someone I recognize from the football team standing next to the fridge. He holds the door open, revealing shelves stacked with bottles and cans.
“I, uh…” I swallow around my dry throat. “Do you have any soda?”
He crouches to examine the shelves, then hands over a can of soda when he straightens.
“Thanks,” I say, hating how shaky my voice is.
“The game was epic last night,” he says, closing the door and leaning against the counter next to it. He must be on drink duty. “You’ve got some silky hands, brother. You’d make a killer quarterback.”
I scoff. “I doubt that, but thanks.”
“I don’t think we’ve met before.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Batesy, Liam and Tyler’s housemate.”
I shake his hand. “Nice to meet you. Have you, uh…” I glance around, trying to appear casual as I take a step back to lean against the counter. “Is Tyler around?”
“Yeah. He’s outside.” He lifts his hand and points one meaty finger to the window.
I follow in the direction of where he’s pointing and spot Tyler out in the backyard.
There’s a bottle of light beer in his hand while the other rests against a wooden banister surrounding the decking.
His head tips back as he laughs at something a girl says, and a knot coils tightly in my stomach when she places a hand on his arm.
Tyler’s head dips as she leans closer, breaking my line of sight of his face.
Heat prickles my skin, and my palms dampen with sweat. I’m aware Batesy is talking to me, but I’m not listening to a word he says. The heavy feeling in my stomach worsens and spreads up my chest to my throat, leaving a path of fire in its wake.
Tyler’s face becomes visible again. He smiles down at her in a way he’s smiled at me so many times recently, and I clench my teeth, spots clouding my vision.
Is… is this jealousy?
We haven’t discussed anything besides our arrangement, but I realize now that I forgot to mention something crucial.
We didn’t set boundaries about what happens outside of the two of us, and seeing him with that girl, it’s clear that I don’t want him to hook up with anyone while he’s teaching me.
Maybe that’s an irrational request, but I don’t feel comfortable knowing that while I’m navigating my endless list of first-time sexual activities, he’s hooking up with other people on the side.
I don’t realize I’m squeezing my soda until my thumb dents the side of the can. Balling my other hand into a fist, I shove it into the pocket of my hoodie and force myself to look away from the window.
Maybe coming here was a bad idea.
With Batesy distracted by new arrivals, I head deeper into the house and find Nelson and Winslow playing ping-pong.
I prop myself against the wall, sipping on my soda and laughing every time Winslow gets the upper hand.
Eventually, Nelson gives up, having had his ego dented too many times, and hands me the paddle.
“If you can kick his ass, I’ll give you fifty dollars,” Nelson mumbles, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to where our starting goalie waits.
I snort and place my soda on the side. As the game gets underway with Winslow, the image of Tyler and that girl disappears from my brain.
The tightness in my body has almost disappeared when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I wait until there’s a break in play, but before I can slip my phone out of my pocket, movement in my periphery catches my attention.
I glance over to see Tyler standing in the doorway. His phone is in his hand by his side, and he gives a subtle nod toward the stairs. Then, without a word, he turns and disappears up them, leaving me feeling confused, mad, and a little horny.