St Sebastian's School for Boys

I wake up in my dorm and Mark is already masturbating. This isn't the first time his fist-fucking has woken me up. I have the top bunk. The bed frame always shakes, and even if it didn't, he's never been one to jack off quietly. I've gotten used to it. There are worse roommates with worse quirks, I've definitely heard horror stories. Plus... I don't really mind getting to listen.

"Oh... man," Mark pants from beneath me. I hear the slick, sweaty sound of his hand jerking his own leaking cock, faster and faster, while I hold my breath from the top bunk. I've seen Mark's cock before -- in the group showers, whenever we're changing for swim class, whatever, it just happens -- and it's not at all bad. When it's soft, it's only a couple inches, but his ballsack is fucking massive. The few times I've seen it hard (accidentally or not), it's definitely at least seven inches, always leaking a little pre from its tip... I lick my lips as I reach my hand beneath the hemline of my underwear, my finger swirling across the tip of my cock. "Holy... holy shit... mmmmm...." Mark says from beneath me, moaning out over his own chest. "Yeah, oh yeah, oh my god, oh.... my fucking god...."

"M-Mark," I say from the top bunk, my hand flat over my cock. His pace slows, quiets, but doesn't stop. "Do you have to be so fucking loud? I bet they can hear you next door, man."

"Sorry, bro," he says, though he doesn't sound very sorry. "You know how I just... get into it sometimes. Can't help it."

"Yeah... let me just get out of your hair," I say, rolling off my bunk and dropping to the floor next to him. I look down at his bed and see that nice, hard cock again, half-hidden beneath his fist. He doesn't care that I'm looking at him, he just keeps pumping like it's the only thing in the world that matters. If he cared about me knowing, he wouldn't have moaned so loudly. His blond hair is messy from bed-head in the early morning; he always sleeps naked, so it's not a surprise for me to see his thin, exposed abs, already slick with his sweat and pre-cum. Mark always makes a mess. His bedsheets -- our whole room really -- always smells like his fucking sweaty semen. It's like living in a monkey's cage, I swear to God.

I turn away from his bed, trying to hide my own erection. We both turned nineteen this past year, our last year at St. Sebastian's, and I've tried my best never to let him see me get horny. The rumor is always that everyone at an all-boys school has experimented with the other boys, but I never have. I'm not into that stuff. At least... not enough to... try anything. It's not hard to keep yourself hidden in the showers and the pools, and to avoid all the late-night parties and stuff. I have a girlfriend back home, anyway. I don't want to cheat on her.

I grab some clothes from my drawer and push down my erection as I head over to the showers. It's early enough in the morning that no one else should be awake, and we all walk around the dorm in our underwear anyway, it's kind of expected. Even the live-in professors do it at this point.

I step into the showers, thankful that they're empty -- mostly because I can't stop thinking about Mark's cock, and I'm getting so hard it's hard to focus on anything else. I grab a bar of soap and lower it beneath my taint, scrubbing upwards under my own scrotum. They're not as big as Mark's massive fucking balls but they're still pretty nice, and they hang low in the warm steam of the shower, feeling nice as I rub the cool, slick soap over them, gently, before bringing the soap up the length of my cock and then setting it down. Then I press my hand over my length, slowly pumping back and forth, steadying my breathing while I steady my body with one hand against the shower wall.

I try to think of my girlfriend, Angie, her cute face, her pert tits, the way she rode me on those summer nights like a fucking bronco -- but my mind keeps drifting back to Mark and his stupid thick cock and the sweaty, sultry smell of his semen that never leaves our bedroom. If I could just ask for a taste..._. _I thought, letting my imagination run wild. It's not like I haven't pressed my nose into his unwashed sheets while he was off at lacrosse; not like I haven't licked the cum-stains from his bedding... not like I don't know exactly what his fucking seed tastes like. My pace increases, my cock thick and warm beneath my hand, the shower filling with more and more steam. I feel the condensation on my nipples and move a hand to tease them as I continue pumping my dick, wishing I could spray it all over Mark's tight, skinny abs, press my dick against his, finally, for once, be the cause of his moans and --

"Woahhhh, hey man," a voice says, stopping me in my tracks. Caught in the act, I leave my hand around my cock, trying to pretend I was just washing it. I glance over and it's Jason -- football player Jason, 6'3" Jason -- already completely naked and standing next to me in the large group showers. He stands four or five inches taller than me, his chest broad as a bull, and he's staring down at my cock in my hand with a little smile. "You know the rules, no jerking it in the group shower."

"Yeah," I say. "Sorry -- just a little pent up."

"No worries," he says. "Hey. I won't tell if you don't." I glance down and realize he's as hard as I am, his cock standing at a nice six inches, not too big, not too small, but well-shaped: the pink tip and the flat tan of his foreskin are the kind of things I've only ever seen on pornstars. Like, he could be a cock model for how pretty the thing is. I try to look away as he wraps his large hand around his cock, jerking it slowly at first. I match his pace. For whatever reason, he keeps talking to me. "Guess we're graduating this year," he says, like we bumped into each other at breakfast and weren't currently fucking our own hands. "Any fun graduation plans?"

"Gonna see my girlfriend at the end of the year," I said. "Miss her a lot."

"I used to have a girlfriend," Jason confesses. "But then I told her about... some of the fun I had here... and she got a little freaked. I miss her, don't get me wrong. But I wouldn't give up cock for anything, you know?"

"Nah," I say, casually, trying not to sound judgmental. "Not for me."

"Really?" Jason asks, turning towards me, giving me a full view of that pretty, pornstar cock. I try not to bite my lip. I try to look anywhere else. "Not even a little bit?"

"Not once," I say. "In all my time here."

"Damn, man," Jason says. "I mean, not even trying it -- that sounds kind of insane to me."

"I'm faithful to my girlfriend," I say, thinking of Angie, and then thinking, again of Mark's cock... I look away from Jason, shutting my eyes to continue jerking off.

"Here," he says, stepping behind me so quickly gasp. "Let me just--"

"Hey!" I shout as I felt his hand grab over mine. I could feel he length of his cock rubbing against my ass... The softness of his hand a surprise, feeling so nice against my foreskin that I almost let him keep going... "What the hell, man?"

"Sorry, sorry," he says, raising his hands over his head and stepping away from me. "**** of habit."

"Yeah, well, leave me alone," I say, pushing past him and grabbing a towel to dry myself off, my cock harder than it's ever been in my fucking life. I throw on a new set of underwear while he apologizes from the shower, and then fall back into the hallway, heading back towards my dorm where hopefully Mark is done fucking himself.

Or hopefully not, I think, sweat dripping down my neck. I don't even know anymore. It's getting harder to focus on anything... thinking of Mark's massive sack, of Jason's beautiful dick. I can't even make it back to the dorm. I reach my hand beneath my underwear as I walk, rubbing myself raw, faster and faster, until I fall to my knees right here in the hallway, lowering my underwear to cum across the hallway's carpet. Jesus Fucking Christ. I pant out the last of my horniness as I collect myself against the wall, sighing happily from the release.

It was getting harder to resist every morning at St. Sebastian's. There were too many cute boys, too many nice cocks, always so close to my face...

I see the nearest door open and Danny is standing there, a Latino boy who's barely 5'4". He glances down at me from the bedroom of his dorm, a knowing look on his face. He's one of the most notorious fucktoys on campus -- I don't know that a single day's gone by without him fucking or getting fucked. He smiles at me.

"You know, if you ever need a real release...." He offers.

"Yeah, thanks, but no thanks," I say, wiping my mouth with my sleeve and standing. "Just lost control a little bit there."

"As we all do, from time to time," he says with a smile. "Well, if you ever need it!"

He shuts the door, leaving me to myself again, and I start scrambling back to my bedroom. I have to get ready for the day soon, anyway, classes start again in less than an hour. I finally push open the door, step back into my room --

and Mark is nowhere to be seen. Vanished into thin air. His sweat stain still impressed against the sheets of his bed. I look around the room, thinking of where he might have gone. And then I see it, on the floor. A thin trail of blood.

I scream.