Our company was hosting a conference in Orlando, Florida a few months back, and I was "volunteered" to be one of the seminar speakers. I was less than pleased with the obligation, since I’d never liked Orlando much – I’m more of a cold weather person. It might have been marginally enjoyable if I’d been able to bring my girlfriend along, but she picked the weekend before the trip to announce that she was no longer my girlfriend.
To add insult to injury, and to prove that things are never so bad that they can’t get worse, the company had decided to cut our travel budget, so we had to double up on the rooms.
My roommate was a guy named Peter. He was a nice enough fellow, I guess, although he tended to be a little conservative and more than a little reserved. We’d had lunch once or twice when he started at the company the year before, and we always exchanged polite hello’s in the hallway, but we really didn’t know each other at all.
I certainly had no intention of bonding with Peter during the conference. I was annoyed and upset about my girlfriend, even though it had never been the most promising of relationships, and I didn’t really have the energy to try to cultivate a new friendship. The night we arrived at the hotel, we had a drink at the bar to unwind, and we agreed to meet for dinner each day between the day and evening sessions – but that was about as far as it was going to go, friendship-wise.
I had an early session the next morning, and flying always exhausts me, so I went to bed early the first night. Peter was sitting up in bed working on his presentation that was scheduled for the following evening, watching the television as he worked. I assured him the television wouldn’t bother me, and then I put my head down and was asleep almost before my head touched the pillow.
When I opened my eyes again, half in and half out of sleep, the room was completely dark. The television was off, but the air conditioner hummed noisily from the other side of the room – a good thing, because I don’t sleep well in total silence. I shut my eyes and was about to drift back into sleep when I heard an odd sound, barely audible above the hum from the air conditioner. In my half-sleep state I couldn’t place the sound at first, but after a few seconds I realized what I was hearing: Peter was sitting on the edge of his bed, just out of my line of sight, jerking off. He was trying to be as quiet as possible, but his excitement was obvious in his labored breathing, even if I couldn’t hear the sound of his hand working on his cock.
My initial shock turned into a kind of odd fascination. I’d never seen another guy masturbate, and I was surprised to find that I was a little excited in spite of myself. Maybe it was just that it was dark, and it was at that point in the middle of the night when the whole world seems like a different place, when nothing seems quite real. And there was just something exciting about the idea of spying on someone in such a private moment. I wondered, too, if Peter’s excitement at that moment was heightened at all by the fact that I was lying in bed, presumably sound asleep, just a few feet away…
I still couldn’t see him, and I resisted the urge to shift on the bed. For whatever reason, I didn’t want to interrupt him, or make him think I was waking up. If it hadn’t been so late, if I wasn’t still half in a dream, maybe these thoughts would never have come into my head. Maybe, maybe not – I wasn’t about to stop and analyze it. So I stayed in the same position, lying on my side facing his bed, trying to breathe normally and let my eyes adjust to the darkness.
After a few more minutes his breathing became heavier, more ragged, and I was a little disappointed that he was already about to come. I had been getting unbelievably excited by the sounds coming from the end of Peter’s bed, and I was mildly shocked to discover that I didn’t want the novel experience to end so soon.
I heard him get up from the bed, probably to go find a towel. I let my disappointment fade away, and my body relaxed a bit. It was already starting to seem like a dream, and I could feel the sleepiness returning. My eyes started to close just as a shadow moved in front of me: Peter was suddenly standing directly between our two beds, facing me. The bed was at such a height that my head was almost exactly at the level of his very large, very erect cock.
I realized that the sounds I’d heard just moments before hadn’t been Peter bringing himself to orgasm. If his breathing had gotten heavier, it was because he’d just come up with a new idea, and it answered the question I’d had about whether my presence was adding to the thrill of what he was doing.
He had decided, obviously, to jerk himself off right in front of me.
His legs were spread apart slightly, and one of his hands was gently cupping and massaging his balls while the other slid slowly and rhythmically up and down his hard cock. Hi s cock was only about a foot from my head, and even in the room’s almost total darkness I could see the thick veins that stood out along the shaft.
I was amazed and stunned by what he was doing, but now it was absolutely critical that I not show any reaction. I kept my eyes mostly shut so he wouldn’t notice me blinking, but I suspected he was too preoccupied right now to notice anyway.
He was trying to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake up, but after a few more minutes he seemed almost delirious. His hand started to move faster along his prick, and I was shocked to see it grow another half-inch inside his fist.
"Oh, God, yeah," he whispered.
The veins of his huge cock pulsed beneath his fingers, and he squeezed and tugged on his balls at the same time. He fell back onto his bed, flat on his back with his cock still gripped tightly in his hand, and I heard more than saw the great burst of cum that shot out of him and landed on his chest, his stomach, and probably on the bed as well.
For a long, endless time, I watched him lay that way, still gently fondling his massive balls and his slowly shrinking cock. Finally he got up, very quietly now, and went to clean himself off.
Ten minutes later he was sound asleep. It took me another two hours before I could even close my eyes.
I had three sessions scheduled for the next day, and the less said about them, the better. On top of my physical exhaustion from having been up half the night watching Peter make himself come right beside my face, I was having trouble concentrating on much of anything. Images from the night before kept flashing through my mind.
Peter was his usual conservative self at dinner. He had no trouble making eye contact or polite conversation, so I knew he was completely unaware that he’d had a true audience for his one-man performance. I followed his cue and did the same, while I was already wondering what might be in store for tonight.
When we finished eating I said that I was going back to the room to do some work and then get to bed early, since I had another early session scheduled for the following morning. All of that was true, but I suspect that I also wanted Peter to know that the coast was clear, and that I’d probably be sound asleep as soon as he came back to the room after his evening session.
By the time I got through with my work, at around ten o’clock, I really was too exhausted to think of anything except sleep. I decided it was for the best, anyway – what Peter did was his own business, and I shouldn’t have been so damned fascinated by it in the first place. I fell asleep feeling relieved, and quickly drifted into blissful, dream-filled sleep.
Several hours later, my eyes flickered open. I was on my side again, but this time I was facing toward the wall, away from Peter’s bed. My head was near the edge, and my body was stretched diagonally to take up almost the whole bed.
And Peter was right in front of me.
He was leaning with his back against the wall, completely naked with his legs about two feet apart. He was stroking his cock again, the same way he had done it the night before, but he had gotten bolder tonight, so that his cock was literally only inches away from me.
