Sounds in the Darness

Certain activities when done in a bed make very distinctive and recognizable sounds. I had never expected to hear some of those sounds coming from my roommates bed. I had know him along time, since before college.

It was the second semester of my freshman year of college. The red numbers on the clock showed 3:43.  I was laying awake staring at the ceiling in my dorm room. I had been awake for half an hour.  Out of respect for my roommate, I did not want to move around and wake him. This was the days before cell phones and there wasn't much to do other than stare up into the darkness.

There was a tiny bit of ambient light coming in under the door from the hall and some coming through the window from a far off street light. But you still could not see shit in the room, it was pretty dark in there.

The slight rustling of covers and the bed squeaking slightly as he shifted in bed was not uncommon and I thought nothing of it. Then there was a different sound, a soft rubbing sound.  Rub your hands together very slowly and lightly, that's the sound.  It was steady and consistent but gradually gaining intensity. This new sound was intriguing and I strained to listen.

Eventually the bed started to squeak quietly in a slow rhythm consistent with the rubbing sound. After only a few squeaks though, it seemed like the intensity slowed and the bed squeak stopped. The sound of the gentle rubbing continued. Through the darkness I could hear breathing now. He was breath was more labored than someone's at rest.

I had seen him nude plenty of times. We had played high school football together. After every practice and game there were locker room showers. As roommates it was not uncommon to change in the room while the other was there, or come back from the shower and see each other for a brief moment. It was all part of sports and dorm life.

I knew what his soft dick was. It was the type of cock anyone would love to have and show off. It was long and thick with a perfectly formed head on the end. It hung long and floppy down over his balls. It looked huge and spectacular in the locker room. Sometimes after showering he would shake baby powder on himself and then take hold and shake the loose off. I had seen the ritual a few times. Knowing about his soft cock, I could not help but wonder what his fingers were touching now. The thought made my cock grow stiff and hard, but I dared not move for fear of interrupting him.

The bed began to gently squeak again. Once more he slowed, careful to be quiet. I listened intently as he went through the cycle several more times. By now the clock showed 4:07. He seemed to be building up and then slowing down, enjoying what he thought was private time.

What was his hard cock like? Was he a shower or a grower? I was a grower. I had heard the terms and knew without much explanation what I was. I knew that my cock more than doubled in thickness and length when going from soft to hard. I swallowed hard imagining what the difference between us might be.

This time the squeaking did not stop or slow. Every sound seemed to be picking up in intensity. The bed squeaked a little louder and more quickly. The rubbing was faster and harder. His breathing now short and highly labored as he tried to be quiet.

At once there was a hard, short grunt or groan and what seemed like a sudden shortness and loss of breath. Then several quiet grunts and an exhale were followed by a continuous sticky, wet stroking sound as he was surely rubbing semen into his cock skin.

What was his ejaculation like? Did he squirt clear to his chest, or was he more of a dribbler? Was it thick and gooey, or thin and stringy? These were all the questions racing through my mind as he had just cum all over himself right there in the bed in our room.

He stirred again in the bed. This time the sounds were the unmistakable sounds of clean up. A shirt or towel or something flopped on the floor and the darkness was quiet again.

I figured if he could do it, I could do it. While I did not do it that particular night, there were lots of nights after that night that I did jerk off quietly in my bed in the dark. He continued to as well. Though neither of us ever said anything to the other, we both knew, he had to.