"You first", he demands

He doesn’t look away from you when he speaks.

“You first.”

The words are quiet, but they land with weight. He stays exactly where he is, still in his black briefs, eyes steady on yours. Waiting.

Your turn.

You push your sweatpants and underwear down together. The fabric clears your hips and your cock is suddenly out in the open air between you. The temperature difference is brief and sharp, then the heat of the moment swallows it. You’re fully exposed while he remains covered. The imbalance sits heavy in the space.

{if reader:cock_desc = "on the smaller side"}

Yours is smaller. There is no kind angle, no generous lighting that can hide it. Shorter. Lighter. Less mass hanging in the air. Standing here alone while he is still covered makes the exposure sharper, more deliberate. A hot, tight feeling climbs the back of your neck and spreads down your chest until it sits heavy in your stomach. A restless mix of shame and arousal coils under your ribs — part of you wants to cover up, most of you can’t look away from his face while he takes you in. Your pulse hammers. You wonder if he can see the exact moment the realization finishes landing on him.

{elseif reader:cock_desc = "average but thick"}

Yours is solid — average in length but thick, the kind of cock that has real weight in a hand and presence when it’s hard. Still, being the first one fully on display while he remains covered makes the moment feel more examined than it should. You feel the knowledge settle behind your navel like a warm stone. Not panic. Not collapse. Just the charged, undeniable fact of standing here exposed first in a room that suddenly feels very small. Your cock twitches once under the attention, thickening further. The tension in your shoulders has nowhere to go.

{elseif reader:cock_desc = "big and heavy"}

Yours is big. Heavy. Substantial. The presence is clear even without a direct comparison yet. Standing exposed while he stays in his briefs gives the moment a strange, deliberate tension — like he is making you prove it first. You feel your pulse in your throat and in your cock at the same time. There’s no relief in the display, only a sharper competitiveness waking up under your skin. You keep looking at him, waiting for the shift in his expression, and the silence starts to feel like a held breath.

{elseif reader:cock_desc = "seriously hung"}

Yours is bigger than most. Longer. Heavier. More present in every way that counts. Seriously hung in a way that doesn’t need soft lighting or clever angles to prove itself. The advantage is already visible, and the fact that he is still covered only makes the display feel more pointed. A slow, dark satisfaction uncurls low in your gut even as your heart keeps slamming. You watch his face for the exact second the realization finishes landing — the small shift in his eyes, the quiet recalibration. Heat floods your chest and settles heavy behind your cock. You feel taller somehow, even though neither of you has moved.

{endif}

Silence.

Thick, stretched silence.

You can hear both of you breathing. His chest moves a little faster than it did a minute ago. Your own heart is loud in your ears. The lamp throws a warm edge of light across your cock while his remains hidden behind black fabric. For several long seconds neither of you pretends this isn’t exactly what the night was always going to come down to.

He looks.

He takes his time.

Then he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and pushes them down.

The elastic peels away slowly. He takes his time on purpose. The dark trail of hair thickens, then the base of him appears, then the rest of his cock lifts free and settles with real weight. Thick. Heavy. Already most of the way hard. It hangs for a second before rising, the head darker than the shaft, a faint wet gleam catching the lamp light at the tip. Exactly the kind of cock the outline had promised.

Now both of you are fully out.

The comparison is no longer a possibility. It’s happening in real time, in the open, with nothing left to hide behind.

Your mind keeps circling the same raw points: the exact difference in weight, the way the air feels against bare skin, the fact that one of you is going to walk away from this moment knowing he came out ahead. Heat pools low in your belly. Your cock gives an involuntary twitch, fully hard now under the attention.

He shifts his weight. The movement makes his cock sway once, heavy. His voice, when it finally comes, is rougher than before.

“Well?”

Just that. One word. Loaded with everything he isn’t saying yet.