Isaac Webber sat on his twin bed, a pillow propped up behind him as he leaned into the corner into where the small cot was pushed. He wore nothing except his boxers, which covered very little as he'd pulled them halfway down his thighs to expose his meaty, hard cock held in one hand that slowly stroked his long shaft. In his other hand, he held a magazine turned to an image of a woman bent over, her ass exposed to the camera, her head turned slightly so that Isaac could see her luscious lips and bedroom eyes.
He always preferred magazines to a laptop or a phone, something physical he could grab and hold. It felt closer to the real thing than flashing images on a screen, and let his imagination do most of the work. He pictured himself kneeling behind this woman with his face buried in her open, inviting warmth, tongue exploring her lips and folds, tasting her warm pleasure on his wandering tongue.
Not that Isaac had any problem pulling in women when he wanted to, with his toned abs and pecs, well-defined biceps, tanned skin that he took pride in keeping spotless and smooth. But sometimes the mood to cum took him suddenly, usually after or during a workout as it had today, his dumbbells abandoned at the foot of his bed.
Sometimes he just had to stop curling to whip it out and cum all over his abs. And he had the room to himself, so why wait?
His room, meant to house two people with similar setups on either side, had been occupied only by Isaac for nearly a month now. It was a quiet season for the Quiet Acres boarding house that sat on the edge of a growing college town, and he had no problem taking advantage of a cheaper rate for a shared room that had only been private for him so far.
Moving his hand over the head of his cock, he groaned as the slick pre-cum leaking out spread across his hand and down his shaft. The woman on the page beckoned him in his mind, begging for his cock which he slid inside her easily -- it was a fantasy after all, and he wouldn't have to ease it into her as he did in his real life. Such were the problems when one has a big cock.
The boxers around his thighs were restricting how much he wanted to spread his thighs, so he pulled them off and tossed them aside to land on his weights. He now sat naked, his sculpted body on full display, enjoying the rare cool breeze that came in through the open window. Isaac had no worries of being overheard; the walls here were surprisingly soundproof for such an old building, and no one had complained yet.
Lost in his fantasy, his strokes became fuller and faster as he began building to an explosive finish. Isaac didn't hear the sound of approaching footsteps just outside over his own grunts and moans. One pair of footfalls belonged to another traveler, a man named Jacob Armstrong wearing hiking boots that clomped against the hardwood floors, while the other belonged to the owner and housemistress, her high heels clacking quickly as they approached Jacob's new room.
Three sharp knocks at the door put a pause to Isaac's activity, who froze in place, nude, cock in hand, with nothing to cover himself but the thin sheet on his bed. He quickly scrambled underneath it, just able to cover his lower half as the lock clicked and the door swung inward, revealing the pair who looked around the room before their eyes landed on its occupant.
The housemistress, whose name had never been disclosed to Isaac, was a tall, stern woman whose dark hair streaked with lines of gray was always pulled back into a tight bun. Today she wore a navy blue pantsuit with a bright necktie that hid from view the deep cleavage to which the lodgers were sometimes treated.
She peered over her gold-rimmed glasses at Isaac who felt as though she could see right through the sheet to his naked form beneath, something he would have welcomed any other day. But today, meeting his new roomie, he wished he had at least one more layer between his stiff cock and their inquiring eyes.
The other one, the new guy, wore a dingy plaid shirt over a thin tank top, dirty ripped jeans and a pair of hiking boots that had seen their fair share of trails. His hair was longer than Isaac's, nearly to his shoulders, but that wasn't saying much; the naked man's hair was shaved nearly to his scalp.
Jacob's eyes were bright green, absorbing his new living space for a few moments before eyeing his new roommate, who he saw was clearly naked and trying to hide it. His gaze lingered for a while on his abs, letting himself enjoy the view while their host introduced the two men.
"Mister Webber," the housemistress said, her eyes raking down his barely-covered form. "This is Mister Armstrong. He's rented out the other bed in this room for the next month, so you two will be roommates for the foreseeable future."
"Jacob Armstrong," he chimed in, lingering on the bulge under Isaac's sheet. "Nice to meet'cha."
"Isaac," he answered, unable to make eye contact and trying to will his erection away. "A pleasure."
"Well, I'll leave you two to get acquainted," the housemistress said, turning to Jacob and nodding. "My office hours are nine to five Monday to Friday should you need anything. Evenings and weekends, please call the number by the phone downstairs for the groundskeeper. Good day, gentlemen."
Her heels clicked against the old hardwood floor as she left, the door shutting quietly behind her. In the silence of the room, the only sound was the gentle breeze through the window that toyed with Isaac's sheet, making him grip it tighter for fear that it would fly away and reveal what lay underneath.
After a beat, Jacob set his hiking pack down on his side of the room and began unpacking it. The space was split in two, each half with a twin-sized bed, a small dresser with a mirror propped on top, and enough room for other activities. The hiker ignored the footlocker, instead unpacking his belongings into the dresser with his back to Isaac.