Ken, if you're reading this I just want to let you know that I used to jerk off to the sound of you masturbating in the dorm room next to mine. You used to turn up the radio (like that wasn't at all obvious) but I could still hear your bed squeaking as you pounded your uncut cock. Yes, I know that you're uncut because one day I spied on you taking a piss through the keyhole in our bathroom door. What really drove me crazy were those last few seconds before you came -- your bed squeaking madly and even hitting the wall as (I would imagine) your body twisted and writhed in pleasure. Little did you know that I was cumming right along with you in the next room.
I also know that you used Kleenex to capture the cum you squeezed out of your foreskin and wiped off your hairy belly. After you had left for class I would sometimes look in your trash can or under your bed to find (if I was lucky) a fresh load waiting for me.
I would unwrap your little Kleenex package and place it on my face while I masturbated furiously, taking in deep breaths the unforgettable scent of your cum. Sometimes I would do this while lying in your bed while wearing a pair of your used tighty-whities -- I used to notice how well my nut sack filled the outline of where yours had been.
For some reason you were very insecure about your husky body. You didn't have a girlfriend. Maybe it was your emerging beer belly or receding hairline that you were worried about -- I don't know. You and I were big guys to start with and our boozing certainly didn't help any. But what are two 25 year old college dudes to do? You were shorter and hairier than me, standing at 5'11" and weighing around 230 pounds. I was stockier and taller than you, standing at 6'3" and weighing about the same as you.
Although the two of us were good friends I could tell that you harbored some jealousy whenever I spent the night at my girlfriend's place. On a rare occasion when my girlfriend stayed with me at our place (I had a single bed while she had a double) we both heard your violent masturbation while we screwed in the next room.
I knew how badly you needed to get laid and since you were my buddy I did what I could. You met a nice girl (a model even) and when you finally got her in the sack you blew it. What the hell were you thinking?
I'm not entirely sure what was (or should I say wasn't) up with you but all you had to do was to turn to your buddy for help. On any of those lonely nights all you needed to do was give me the word. I for one appreciated your manly, beefy body. Your hairy beer gut didn't bother me in the least; in fact, it turned me on considerably. Being cut myself I would have loved to explore your uncut cock, giving you all of the pleasure (and perhaps more) that you could never seem to get from a woman.
I know you wouldn't have been completely opposed to this because I still remember that time when we were traveling together. I hadn't seen my girlfriend in months and I was horny as hell. We were bored and decided to "wrassle" on the floor a bit. Somehow we both ended up on my bed. Without ever uttering a word you lay very, very still on top of me for what seemed like forever. I could feel the stubble of your five o'clock shadow brushing against my cheek and the heat of your breath on my neck. I'll never forget that moment -- the moment just before something was going to happen -- but neither of us knew what. I could feel the tension in your body and in the way your breathing became a little heavier. Something primal and very male was taking hold of us and it was going to happen right now...
or I blew that moment entirely -- my dick was already hard as I pushed you off and then laughed to relieve the tension. What the hell were we doing?
Man, I do regret that now. I know that you were into it. But I messed it up. I was as insecure as you were; I didn't want you to think I was a fag.
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