Fireworks

Brad knew it was too good to be true that he could actually fall asleep in the sweltering room and stay asleep. Though with the windows open and the fan he’d borrowed from one of the other guys who actually had air conditioning blowing on him, he may have had a chance of making it until morning, if Joe hadn’t come sneaking in.

Elephants made less noise entering a room, and soon, the reason became apparent. The shushing and giggling was his first clue. The slow crescendo of moans coming from Joe’s rack was his second. He’d brought Mary Jo back with him.

Now what? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d feigned sleep while a roommate got busy. Not that he was a pervert voyeur or anything, but honestly, why should he be put out of his own bed just so somebody else could have fun? Tonight, Brad was crankier than usual and wasn’t about to give up his bed. And, inexplicitly, he was also suddenly horny as hell.

Listening to the rustle of the sheets and the soft whispers started the process. By the time he heard Mary Jo start to come, he was full tilt and hard enough to drive nails with his dick.

Eyelids squeezed tightly closed, he concentrated intently on every sound when he knew he should be blocking it all out. Even the whir of the fan, which had been the peaceful drone that had put him to sleep before, annoyed him now as it covered the tiny noises he knew she’d be making but he couldn’t hear clearly. He strained to catch every shuddering breath she took as she climaxed hard.

Bedsprings squeaked and Joe’s moan told Brad his friend was exactly where he wished he could be. Inside her.

Dammit. He should leave. When his hand uncontrollably strayed down and he started stroking himself, he knew he was going to have to, if only to go to the bathroom and finish himself off, but he didn’t want to go. He wanted to listen, to share in some small part of this.
As silently as possible, he spit into his palm, and then stroked himself, harder and faster, keeping time with the creaking of the bed just feet from him.

Whispering across the room stopped Brad in mid stroke.
Shit! Had they heard him? He held perfectly still, straining to make individual words out of the murmurs.

“Brad.”

Joe’s voice made him jump. He’d spoken loud enough; Brad decided he couldn’t pretend to sleep through it, even though he’d like to do exactly that. “Yeah?”

“You can come over here.”