Part 3
A month has passed, and here I am at the grocery store again because Emilio has devoured all the damn cereal. I swear, I stock up with five or six boxes at a time, but he tears through three or four boxes a week like it’s nothing. It’s absurd, and I know better than to wait for him to replace them. That’ll never happen. Navigating the aisles, I grab the usual cereal I like and a few other essentials we always seem to run out of.
Living with Emilio has its challenges—he can be messy as hell, leaving his gym clothes in random places and never cleaning the bathroom properly—but I can’t complain too much. His company makes it worth it, even if I act annoyed sometimes. Deep down, I enjoy having him around. That said, I have been dealing with my own… issues that involve his presence. Ever since seeing him in action last month, sexually confident and completely uninhibited, I haven’t been able to shake the effect it had on me. It’s embarrassing how hard I get when we’re just cuddling on the couch with his arm draped casually over me. But I’ve been doing a damn good job of hiding it. At least, I think I have.
It’s November now, the start of the holiday season. I’ve got to start planning for Thanksgiving, which means buying the ingredients for my signature pumpkin pie. It’s a tradition—I always make one to bring to my mom’s house after stopping by Emilio’s mom’s place first. Emilio’s mom is an incredible cook, and her Thanksgiving spread is unmatched. But I also need to be mindful of saving money for Christmas gifts; the holidays always sneak up on me.
While I’m standing in the cereal aisle, my phone buzzes with a text from Emilio.
“Hey bro, where you at?”
I roll my eyes and type back, “Grocery store.”
“OK, well, we need more body wash,” he replies.
I groan, already irritated. “You motherfucker, I told you to stop using mine,” I text back.
“What am I supposed to do, not shower when I run out?” he shoots back.
“No, you take your ass to the store and buy more,” I reply, already knowing how this conversation is going to end.
“Sure. Maybe I’ll think of that next time,” he texts, followed by the most nonchalant attitude I can practically feel through the screen.
I respond with the middle finger emoji and shove a few bottles of body wash into my cart. I know he’s not going to buy his own, and I’d rather avoid not being able to wash my own ass.
When I get home, my arms are loaded with groceries. I drop the bags onto the counter and start unpacking. Remembering the body wash, I grabbed one of them and headed to Emilio’s room. His door is slightly ajar, so I push it open to toss the bottle inside.
What I see makes me freeze in place for another fucking time. Emilio is sprawled out on his bed, one hand gripping his phone, the other wrapped firmly around his cock. His movements are unhurried, his head tilted back against the pillow, completely lost in what he’s doing.
“Jesus Christ!” I blurt, throwing the body wash at him and slamming the door shut before he can even react.
Heart pounding, I stomp back to the kitchen, trying to shake the image from my head. “Bro, it’s No Nut November!” I shout, hoping to cover up my awkwardness with humor.
From behind his closed door, I hear him groan. “Fuck! You’re right. I totally forgot.”
A moment later, Emilio emerges from his room wearing nothing but a pair of snug boxer briefs, his hair a mess and his face flushed. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly as he walks into the kitchen.
“Bro, I haven’t had any pussy in a week,” he says, his voice half-apologetic, half-defensive. “And the last time I jerked off was, like, three or four days ago.”
I glance at him, then immediately regret it. His boxer briefs aren’t doing much to hide the fact that he’s still semi-hard, and I have to fight to keep my gaze from lingering. My throat feels dry as I force myself to focus on putting away the groceries.
“Oh well, rules are rules,” I say, trying to sound calm. My voice cracks slightly, and I hope he doesn’t notice.
Emilio smirks, leaning against the counter like nothing just happened. “Anyway, thanks for the body wash,” he says, his tone light and teasing. “And the cereal. You’re a lifesaver.”
I nod, keeping my eyes firmly on the box of cereal in my hands. “Yeah, no problem. Just… maybe try not to eat all of it in two days this time.”
He laughs, that deep, carefree laugh that always makes my chest tighten. “No promises,” he says, grabbing a box of cereal and tearing it open right there in the kitchen. He pours a handful into his mouth, crunching loudly as he leans back against the counter.
I shake my head, pretending to be annoyed, but I can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. This is just how things are with Emilio—chaotic, ridiculous, and somehow comforting all at once.
But as I sneak another glance at him, his abs flexing as he shifts his weight, I can’t help but feel the heat rising in my chest again. I turn back to the groceries, focusing on putting them away, but the image of him on his bed keeps flashing in my mind.
As I stood at the counter, putting away the groceries, I could feel the heat rising in my body. My cock was betraying me, swelling against the confines of my jeans, and I had to do everything in my power to keep my composure. Emilio, oblivious to my internal struggle, kept crunching on his cereal and chatting casually, completely at ease.
Then, he came around the counter, standing closer to me as he talked about something I couldn’t even focus on. My heart raced as I realized I needed to move—quickly—before he noticed anything. I grabbed the nearest bag of groceries, leaving the rest on the counter, and smoothly slid past him, keeping my back turned to hide the obvious bulge in my pants.
“Hey, bro, where you going?” Emilio called out, his tone light but curious.
Without stopping, I replied over my shoulder, “I’m feeling a bit tired, so I’m going to lay down and watch the new season of Stranger Things.”
“Damn, without me?” he shouted back, sounding genuinely offended. “You know I’ve been waiting for you to start it!”
I didn’t respond, instead shutting my bedroom door behind me and leaning against it, exhaling a shaky breath. My cock was still hard, straining against my jeans, and I knew I needed to calm down. I turned on the TV and quickly stripped down to just my loose-fit boxers, hoping the cool air would help. Lying back on my bed, I tried to focus on the show, but my body wasn’t cooperating.
My cock twitched again, demanding attention, but I clenched my fists and forced myself to ignore it. I wasn’t about to give in, not with Emilio just down the hall.
“Hey, bro!” Emilio’s voice rang out, muffled through the door. “I’m about to take a shower since I’ve got body wash now.”
I cleared my throat, trying not to sound as flustered as I felt. “Alright, bro,” I called back, my voice cracking slightly. I cringed, hoping he didn’t notice.
About thirty minutes later, I had managed to calm down. My erection was gone, and I was fully engrossed in the first episode of Stranger Things. My breathing had evened out, and I finally felt like I was back in control.
That is, until my door suddenly flew open, and Emilio came barreling in, wearing nothing but loose-fit boxers that hung low on his hips. He grinned mischievously and launched himself onto my bed, landing on top of me.
“Bro! You really started the show without me?” he exclaimed, his hands immediately going to my sides as he began tickling me mercilessly.
I burst into uncontrollable laughter, squirming beneath him as I tried to push him off. “Bro, stop!” I gasped between fits of laughter. “You only missed the first episode!”
“That’s the fucking principle!” he shot back, his fingers relentless as they found every ticklish spot on my body. It was torture, but I couldn’t stop laughing.
Finally, he relented, collapsing beside me on the bed with a satisfied smirk. “You’re lucky the second episode hasn't started yet,” he said, nudging me playfully. Then, to my surprise, he stayed there, settling in beside me like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Alright, let’s watch. it’s been good so far?”
"Y-yeah, it's good," I responded, flabbergasted for a moment, hyper-aware of how close he was, his bare skin brushing against mine. I quickly pulled the blanket over myself, trying to hide the fact that my cock was stirring again. I cursed under my breath, willing my body to behave, but Emilio didn’t seem to notice.
“Man, it’s fucking cold,” he said suddenly, shivering a little. “I just got out of the shower. Give me some cover.”
Before I could protest, he lifted the blanket and slid under it, pressing his body against mine to share the warmth. My heart was pounding in my chest as I curled up, trying to make myself as small as possible to hide my growing erection. But then Emilio curled up too, his arm draping over my side as he got comfortable. Him cuddling with me like this wasn’t out of the norm—we’d always been close like that—but lately, it has been making me feel different, and I couldn’t stop my body from reacting.
I could feel the heat radiating off his freshly showered skin, the faint scent of his new body wash filling the air. His thigh brushed against mine, and I bit my lip, praying he couldn’t feel the tension in my body—or the hard length I was desperately trying to keep out of his reach.
“You’re so warm, bro,” he muttered, his voice low and a little sleepy. “You good?”
“Y-yeah,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. My entire body was on high alert, every nerve ending attuned to his every movement. I tried to focus on the TV, but it was almost impossible with Emilio so close, his breath warm against my neck.
I shifted slightly, hoping to create some space between us, but it only made things worse. His arm tightened around me, pulling me closer as he murmured, “Stop moving. You’re making it colder.”
I swallowed hard, my face burning as I tried to keep my breathing steady. This was going to be a long night. As the hours passed, I did my best to focus on the TV show, though Emilio wasn't moving anytime soon. We watched episode after episode, his presence warm and comforting beside me, until eventually, exhaustion took over and I drifted off to sleep, lulled by the steady rhythm of his breathing and the comforting weight of his arm draped over me.
When I awoke, it was still dark outside, and I felt something pressing insistently against my cheeks. Disoriented, I reached under my pillow for my phone to check the time—3 a.m. I shoved it back under and tried to settle back into sleep, but it was impossible to ignore the hard length of Emilio's cock nestled against me, and the fact that I was rock hard myself.
My mind raced with conflicting thoughts. I knew I should shift away, create some distance, but the sensation was intoxicating, and my resolve was weakening by the second. Carefully, I tried to move Emilio's hand from around me, hoping to alleviate some of the tension. I gently grasped his hand, bringing it down to my thigh, but he only shifted closer, his body pressing tightly against mine.
His cock, now seemingly freed from popping through the fly of his boxers, nestled firmly between my legs, and I could feel every throb, every pulse. It was maddening, the warmth and hardness of him, and I found myself rocking my hips, seeking friction against his length.
"No, Emilio, stop," I whispered urgently, my voice strained, knowing he wouldn’t hear me because he was a heavy sleeper.
The heat between us was undeniable, and I was more turned on than I had ever been, the challenge of No Nut November making everything even more intense. My breath caught in my throat as I contemplated my next move, desire clouding my judgment. Slowly, I slid my boxers down just enough to expose my cheeks and my aching cock.
I reached back, hesitantly wrapping my fingers around Emilio's massive cock, guiding it between my cheeks until it rested against my hole. He stirred slightly, a low groan escaping his lips, but he didn't wake up. My heart pounded in my chest, and I carefully began to stroke myself, feeling the slickness of his pre-cum trickling down my skin.
The combination of fear and excitement pushed me closer to the edge, my strokes slow and deliberate as I savored the forbidden thrill. Each pass of my hand sent jolts of pleasure through my body, my cock throbbing in sync with his. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to moan aloud, terrified of waking him up.
For what felt like an eternity, I kept this secret rhythm; my mind lost in the sensation. But then, Emilio shifted again, his arm tightening around me, and his cock pressed insistently against my entrance. Before I could react, the tip slipped past my rim, and I gasped, my eyes flying open as my body shuddered around him.
The sensation was overwhelming, and I couldn't hold back any longer. My own cock pulsed as I came, the intensity of it leaving me breathless. I collapsed back against Emilio, my body trembling as I rode out the aftershocks. His cock remained lodged inside me, still hard and pulsing. I knew I was wrong, but I couldn't bring myself to pull away.
Emilio stirred, his movements instinctual, and before I could process what was happening, he gripped my thighs and pushed deeper inside me. I cried out, the sound echoing in the quiet room, and Emilio jolted awake, confusion and embarrassment flashing across his face.
"Justin! What...what the fuck? Did I… Oh my God…" he stammered, his voice hoarse with sleep, scrambling back in shock.
My face burned with humiliation as I grabbed the blanket, rolling over to hide the evidence of my release. "I'm sorry!" I shouted, my voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what happened… I just…"
We both sat there, tangled in a mess of confusion and desire, the air thick with unspoken words. I didn't know how to explain or make sense of what had just happened, but the look in Emilio's eyes told me he was just as lost as I was.
How quickly would you like me to post Part 5?
