The dorm room reeked of cheap whiskey and chlorine from Jake's latest practice. My roommate, the six-foot-three swim captain and part-time male model, lounged across from me with that cocky grin. "Alex, you in or what? Strip poker. Loser gets hard, they give the winner a blowjob. No backing out, college boy." Jake's voice was sharp, teasing, his green eyes glinting under the dim lamp.
I laughed, already buzzed. "You're on, pretty boy. But if your ego gets hard first, I'm making you work for it." Cards flew. Shirts hit the floor. Jake's sculpted abs flexed as he discarded his jeans, revealing tight briefs that left little to imagination. "Getting chilly in here, or is that just my winning streak?" he quipped.
My pulse raced. Another hand, and my pants were gone. Then it hit—my cock stirred, hardening fast at the sight of him. "Fuck," I muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Jake's gaze dropped, sharp as a blade. "Well, well. Rules are rules, Alex. Time to suck my cock. Don't tell me a horny little swimmer like you is scared of a dripping hard one."
I knelt, heart pounding, the air thick with sweat and tension. His briefs came down, revealing his thick, hard cock already twitching. "Witty comeback?" he panted, but I was too busy wrapping my lips around him. He groaned, hips bucking as I took him deep. "That's it—horny bastard. Make it wet."
The room spun into heat: sweating bodies, panting breaths, his ass clenching under my grip. Jake came hard, cum flooding my mouth, but it only fueled the fire. We tumbled to the bed, his hands everywhere, leading to an explosive thrust that left us both dripping and spent.
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