Davids Shorts

It was him. That bulge was unmistakeable.

Although I'd been taking my lunch break in the park for the last few weeks, this was the first time I'd been on a Saturday. I'd woken up early for once, the sun was shining, and there was a crisp autumnal feeling in the air. Why not stretch my legs?

The park had a small lake in the centre of it, with a wide path around its edge. After walking one full circuit, I settled onto a bench overlooking the water. There was no need to rush home. I was content to sit on the bench, enjoy the light breeze, and watch people go past. Dog walkers, joggers, some just strolling along.

I had been staring into the middle distance when a flash of red caught the edge of my vision. I turned my head. A jogger in a grey vest and red shorts was approaching, a guy of about my age with curly brown hair.

Those shorts. Holy shit. Whatever they contained, it was massive. Red nylon, they were bulging outwards, barely restraining the monster inside. With every thump of his feet, the basket swayed from side to side.

As I watched the hypnotic bulge, the jogger drew closer. I glanced up to check he hadn't seen me ogling him. Luckily, he had earbuds in, his head nodding along to the music. He was lost in his own world; I was safe to look back down and—

My eyes snapped back up to the face. A face I recognised. I knew that stubbled jawline, those perfect lips, those shining blue eyes.

And that monstrous bulge.

David.

As I sat frozen, he ran past without looking at me, trainers crunching on dead leaves. I stared after his receding figure.

My mind went back to my time at university. That had been, what, eight years ago? And David and I had only shared accommodation for one year. He probably barely remembered me. Whereas for me, living with David had been a special kind of hell. I was a closeted virgin, still figuring out my sexuality. He was an outgoing, masculine straight lad, who wasn't shy about walking around in briefs that showed off his enormous bulge. It was pure torture for a horny eighteen-year-old. I spent my first year of uni in a hormonal daze.

Even worse, David was very sexually active - and our bedrooms shared a wall. The number of nights he brought back some random girl and I had to listen to the bed thumping, her moaning, him grunting... and me alone in bed, furiously wanking. Occasionally I'd hear a screamed comment about how big he was. Those nights I rubbed myself raw. The following morning, I would shoot jealous looks at the girl as she left.

On several occasions, I heard him in the shower we all shared, and fantasised about just opening the door and "accidentally" walking in on him. My nerves always got the better of me, though. In my dreams, on the other hand... the things I saw, the things I did with him...

The torture lasted a whole year, during which I'm surprised my dick didn't fall off from overuse. Then the summer came, and he told us he was dropping out. I was crushed, but also relieved. I was able to focus on my studies and move on with my life. I did think about him and his cock from time to time, but I never saw him again.

Until today. Until that big bulge had bounced right past my face.

I watched him jog into the distance until he disappeared behind a hedge. The last thing I saw was those red shorts, a splash of colour against the browns and greys of autumn.

Should I have said something? Would he have even remembered me? More importantly, did I really want to open that door again? I still had occasional fantasies about him. Hot, sweating, grunting fantasies, kind of like how he had been when he jogged past...

I felt my hard dick straining in my jeans. Shit. If I didn't take care of it, I'd be distracted all afternoon. The best thing to do would be to head home, jerk off, and then get on with my day without thinking about David. It had been nice to see him, sure, but that was the end of it.

I absolutely would not have fantasies about David.

*****

I absolutely did have fantasies about David. Every night for a week. Sometimes twice in a row.

Which is why I found myself back on the same bench the following Saturday. I had arrived early and brought a book for cover. Despite being October, it was warm and sunny. Several people were in their shorts.

But there was only one pair of shorts I was interested in. All morning, for over an hour, I had pretended to read while scanning the path in both directions. Several joggers passed me, but none of them were David.

This was stupid. What was I hoping to achieve? I was on a stakeout to have that untouchable, unattainable bulge pass two feet in front of my face. And then what? Feel frustrated, go home and have another wank? This was stupid and pointless. I closed my book.

A flash of red.

I opened my book again. Making a show of stretching my neck, I glanced to the right.

My heart leapt. Here came David, same outfit as before, bulge proudly leading the way. It was moving more freely this time, the sizeable outline swaying from side to side. He must be going commando! An involuntary whimper escaped my throat.

I lowered my head, not wanting to be caught staring. My dick was already swelling in my jeans, not too noticeable yet, but I covered myself with the book just in case.

I heard David's footsteps approaching, closer and closer. I desperately wanted to look up again. One more glimpse! He was close enough for me to hear his heavy breathing. It was now or never. Just a quick glance...

He stopped.

So did my heart.

I sat frozen, staring at my book. He was right beside me. Had he recognised me after all? Had he clocked me ogling his shorts?

I glanced in his direction. He was lifting his foot onto the bench beside me. His lace had come undone! I relaxed. He wasn't paying attention to me. I could admire the inside of his leg, tan and muscular, with a light covering of dark hair. My eyes travelled up, drinking it all in. Up to those wonderful red shorts. Where his—

Where his cock was poking out.

I suppressed a gasp. The thick tube has escaped down one leg. As he lifted his foot onto the bench beside me, the leg of his shorts rode up. Half an inch of his foreskin-covered cockhead came into view. Close enough to touch. Close enough to taste.

My throat made a strange sound, halfway between a whimper and a gurgle. David turned his head towards me. In a split second, I realised that moving my head away would make it obvious what I had been looking at. I did the only other thing I could.

I looked up. Those brilliant blue eyes met mine.

He held my gaze for seconds that felt like hours. I couldn't break away. Then he returned to tying his lace and the spell was broken. I looked back at my book, furiously fighting the temptation to look at his cock again.

David finished tying his lace. He straightened up but didn't move. I felt his eyes on me as he just stood there. After a few moments, I couldn't bear it anymore. I looked up again.

Recognition flashed in eyes and his face broke into a grin. He pulled out his earbuds. "Jon?" he said. I had forgotten how deep and masculine his voice was. "It is you, isn't? You probably don't remember, but we were at uni together!"

I felt like a deer in headlights. "Oh, um, hi," I croaked. "David, right? I think I remember. Great to see you again, yeah. Been ages, huh?" I just stopped myself short of adding

I wasn't looking at your cock by the way

.

David stuck out a hand. I took it, expecting a handshake. Instead, I was hauled to my feet and pulled into a tight embrace.

Stillness. Birds sang, trees rustled. My heart thumped against his firm, warm chest. I had angled my body so that my erection wouldn't press against him, but that meant his bulge was against my hip. I felt it press into me, firm yet soft, radiating heat.

We hugged for several seconds. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. He smelt of sweat and masculinity. My mind went fuzzy, my legs weak. My cock throbbed, threatening to tear through my underwear.

The moment ended and we broke apart. "So how have you been, mate?" David's voice cut through the pink clouds, bringing me back to reality.

"G-good," I said. "I've been good. How about you? What did you do after you left uni?"

"Builder," he said. "Learning computer stuff wasn't for me, so I started working on a construction site. It's not bad work, plenty of fresh air and exercise." He winked. "How about you? Finished the degree?"

"Yeah, I learnt all the 'computer stuff'," I said. At least making conversation allowed me to focus on something other than his cock. "I'm a programmer now, I work remotely for a company in London."

"That's awesome, mate!" said David. "I'm really pleased for you!"

Another jogger puffed past us. David glanced at his watch. "Listen, I'm just about done with my run, then I'm going home to shower and head out to grab some lunch. If you're not doing anything, why don't you come with me? It would be great to catch up!"

I took a moment to reply. When I did, it felt like my voice was coming from somewhere far away. "No, I don't have plans," I said, in what I hoped was a steady voice. "I'd love to catch up."

"Great!" David grinned. "My place isn't too far. I won't be long in the shower - you can have a beer while you wait. Sound good?"

"Mmhmm." I didn't trust myself to form actual words.

David smiled. "I've just got to jog to the park gates to finish up. Don't worry about keeping pace! I'll do some cooldown stretches and wait for you there. See you soon!" He took off, his red shorts disappearing into the distance.

I steadied myself against the bench. Going back to his place. Alcohol. Him in the shower.

I took a deep breath and tried to centre myself. I knew I was reading way too much into this. It was just two friends hanging out. Nothing more. Don't make it weird.

I grabbed my book, covered my erection, and set off after him.

*****

David's place wasn't just close by - it was practically opposite the entrance to the park. I must have walked past it dozens of times, never knowing that my fantasy man was nearby.

He lived on the top floor of the four-storey building, in a surprisingly modern and spacious flat. The front door opened into an open plan area with a lounge and kitchen, divided by a long granite counter. The lounge was carpeted, with leather armchairs and a huge TV. Cityscapes decorated the walls, and sunlight streamed in through a wide window that must overlook the park. The kitchen was all chrome and wood flooring.

David kicked off his shoes and headed to the kitchen. I followed suit, the carpet soft and springy under my feet. He pulled open a massive fridge and took out a bottle of beer. "Grab a seat," he said, gesturing to a couple of barstools next to the counter. I perched on one as David popped the cap off the beer and handed it to me. I took a large gulp, hoping the ice-cold liquid would cool my overexcited body.

"I'll join you shortly," said David. "I'm pretty sweaty after that run." He raised an arm and sniffed his pit, making an exaggerated face of disgust. "Fucking rank!" he laughed. "Time for a shower. You good for a little bit?"

I nodded, taking another deep swig. The flash of his hairy pit and the whiff of sweat that came with it was making my temperature rise again.

"Make yourself at home," said David, disappearing through a door off the kitchen. I heard him pad along the floor. A creak of wood. The footsteps faded. A pause - was that a rustle of clothing? Was he undressing? I was sorely tempted to follow him but knew I'd get caught. More footsteps, back towards me. A door opening and closing. Then, after a few moments, a

click

and the sound of running water.

I exhaled and tried to collect my thoughts. Things had happened very quickly. Fifteen minutes ago, I had been sitting on the park bench. Now, I was in David's flat, I was drinking alcohol, and he was naked in the shower. He hadn't mentioned a roommate, so I had to assume it was just us, me in the kitchen and him naked in the shower. All I had to do for the next ten minutes or so was sit still, drink my beer, and not think about him naked in the shower.

My dick was painfully hard. I readjusted myself to give it room to breathe. It twitched and I fought the urge to rub it. This was insane. I knew David, like any straight man, was oblivious to the effect he was having on me. There wasn't anything deliberate in his actions, even as he teased me with that glimpse of his cockhead, or his hairy armpit, or being naked in the—

Dear

god

, what is wrong with me? Just drink the beer and do absolutely nothing else. Don't. Be. Weird.

I tried to ignore the sound of running water and gulped down more of the beer. Too much, perhaps. My head was becoming fuzzy, and it was hard to think clearly. Perhaps that was why I stood up and crept towards the doorway.

I knew it was wrong, it was crossing some major lines by even thinking of doing this. But an insidious little thought had wormed its way into my head - this was my one and only chance to see David naked. The universe had handed me this opportunity, and who was I to argue with the universe? Worst came to the worst, David caught me and kicked me out. Well, he hadn't been in my life for the past several years and was unlikely to feature much in the future. So what if I made things weird?

The more rational part of my brain was trying to point out how fucked up this was, but the alcohol and hormones were overruling it.

I reached the doorway, which led to a short corridor. There were just two other doors, a closed one halfway along and another at the end. The far one was ajar, and I could see the end of a bed through it. Therefore...

I crept along the hall towards the closed door. The sound of running water grew louder. David was humming merrily to himself, and I had a mental image of him soaping up his body, washing under his arms, his torso, between his legs...

I reached the door. It was all that stood between me and David's naked body. My hand closed around the cold, metal handle. If I eased it open quietly, just for a second... if he had his back to me, or had soap in his eyes, he would never know. Hell, even if he was facing me, I could make up a story about needing a piss. My hand tightened. I eased the handle down. Shifting my weight forwards, I prepared to push.

The floorboard under my foot creaked. I froze, heart hammering. Did the humming falter? No, still going. I exhaled.

I gently released the door handle. That was too close. The shock had allowed the rational part to take control. Horny or not, I couldn't cross that line. I was a guest in his house, I had to respect his privacy.

The moment of insanity had passed. I took a step back and began breathing normally again. I just had to sneak back to the kitchen, sit down, and drink the beer. Act as if nothing had happened. I was about to turn around when I glanced down the hall.

A flash of red.

Slowly, I turned and looked at the open bedroom door. From here, I could see his bed. And on the bed... his shorts.

The shorts he had taken off only minutes ago.

The shorts he had been working out in.

The shorts he had been going commando in.

My mind buzzed. Back in uni, David had always spent ages in the shower. It had only been in a few minutes since the shower clicked on. There was time.

I moved as though in a trance towards the bedroom, heart pounding, drawn to the red beacon. This wasn't like trying to spy on him in the shower, I reassured myself. That would be a violation. This was just me being nosy. He'd never know.

Stealthily, I entered the bedroom, ears alert for any changes to the humming. It was a typical room for a straight guy. Unmade bed, dresser with dozens of aftershaves and deodorants on it, wardrobe hanging half open, overflowing laundry basket. The air smelt of manliness.

A glint of gold caught my eye. There was a small box on the dresser, next to a bottle of Hugo Boss. I looked closer. A thrill shot through me as I realised it was a box of condoms. Magnum XL, no less. This confirmation that he had been sexually active in this very room brought my dick to full attention. When had he last done it? This morning? Was I breathing in his sex scent?

I could wait no longer. I turned to the bed. The shorts, bright red on the grey sheets, called to me. I reached for them. They were still warm. I caught a whiff of sweat.

The rational part of my brain raised an objection but was quickly silenced. The smell of David's maleness had awakened something else in me, something primal. Something perverted.

Something fucking filthy.

I found the crotch of the shorts and pressed it to my nose. Fuck. Warm and musky. Just minutes ago, David's big, thick cock and heavy, sweaty balls had been touching the fabric. I took a long, deep sniff. The smell of David flooded my senses. It was like huffing chemicals. My head swam and my jeans strained.

I continued breathing in his scent, while my other hand strayed to my crotch and began massaging my hardon. Every inhalation sent a powerful pulse along my shaft. I felt my balls tingle.

Jesus. I needed release. No longer knowing what I was doing, I yanked my zip open and pushed my jeans and briefs down to my knees. My dick sprang free at last, throbbing in the open air.

Frenzied, I grabbed myself and began jerking. I was already slick with precum. My hand slid up and down easily as I huffed his shorts, the wet rhythm loud in the silent room.

The pressure in my balls was building. Fuck the consequences, I needed to blow a load right here, right now. I brought his shorts down and rubbed my dick against them, right where his meat had been. The nylon felt so good against my shaft. My orgasm was rising, I was going to spunk in David's shorts, mess them up, and every time he wore them he'd have my sperm on his cock... fuuuuckkk... here it comes... here it—

Click

.

I stopped, hovering on the edge. That noise... it meant something, something important. What was it? I tried to think in the stillness and silence.

No humming. No running water.

Reality hit like a bucket of ice. Shit shit shit! I threw the shorts back on the bed, hoping it was close enough to how they looked before. I pulled my jeans up as I hurried back down the hall. At the last second, I remembered the squeaky floorboard in front of the bathroom and dodged it. As I passed the door I heard David moving around behind it. I sprinted down the hall and made it into the kitchen just as the bathroom door opened.

I rushed over to the barstool and sat down. It was only then that I realised my dick, now fully deflated, was hanging out of my jeans.

Footsteps. Towards me. David wasn't going into the bedroom! I stood up and stuffed my dick back into my briefs and zipped up quickly but carefully. I sat down on the stool and grabbed my beer with seconds to spare.

Behind me, I heard David enter the room. "Sorry I took so long, mate," he said.

I willed my breathing and heartrate to return to normal. "No problem," I said, horribly aware of how shaky my voice was. Hoping I looked calm, I turned round. "I've just been—"

The words died in my throat.

David was wearing nothing but a towel.

His lean, hairy torso glistened with water. The brown bullets of his nipples stood proudly on a muscular chest. He was leaning on the doorframe, one arm raised, revealing the dark hairs of his armpit. A droplet of water ran down his flat belly to meet a treasure trail that disappeared into the folds of his towel.

I became aware that David had spoken. I forced my eyes back up to his face. "Eh?" I said.

"I said, are you needing another beer?"

"Oh, um, yeah," I said, grabbing my bottle. Luckily it was almost empty. I drained it, hoping to calm my raging libido.