Shower Gel

I looked back through the gap and saw that he'd turned around and was washing his arse. His hands moved away from it and I heard him squeeze shower gel onto one of them. Then they returned and he lathered soap into his crack, sweeping his fingers upwards and downwards between his cheeks. I squirted some gel onto my own hand and followed his example, washing my own arse crack as I watched him washing his. He seemed especially eager to clean the area around his hole. He swirled his fingers in and out of the lower part of his arse crack and then, as I stared at him through the gap with increasing interest, he extended his middle finger and started pushing it in and out of his crack at the level where his arsehole would be. His crack was hairy but his cheeks were pale and smooth. 

I watched him, fascinated, and my hands returned back to my cock which was now lengthening rapidly into full erection. He bent down, away from me, and his arse cheeks opened up. His middle finger, still slick with a soapy lather, started darting in and out of his hole as he pleasured himself in the shower. I watched, spellbound at his display, gently pulling on my foreskin and feeling my cock arching upwards to full length.

He stayed like that for a minute or so, bending forwards and fucking his own arsehole with his soapy finger. I kept watching him, at first allowing myself only to slowly pull at my foreskin but then surrendering to the urge to masturbate in earnest. Gripping my cock fully, I watched him fingering himself as a girl would, using his arsehole as a masculine substitute for a pussy. The desire to watch him was overwhelming: I could not take my eyes from him as he used his body in a way that I had never previously considered. His finger developed a rapid rhythm, sliding in and out of his hole with such compulsion that his whole body shuddered to the same beat. 

Then he withdrew his finger and stood upright again. I kept watching him, jerking the length of my cock quickly, engrossed by the thought that this rough, tall guy had masturbated his arse with his finger, adapting the feminine act into something seedier and franker but unexpectedly erotic. He turned back towards me and I saw that his own cock was fully erect: large and thick, it curved upwards as my own did and its bell end was exposed and angry-looking. It looked as long as my own - eight inches or so - and I felt a new wave of excitement rush through me as I considered that the actions of his finger inside his arse had produced the impressive erection I was now looking at.

He gripped his own cock and started jerking himself quickly. I continued working my own cock, my rhythm faster than his, my strokes sweeping through more of the length of my cock. I realised he was watching me and that he probably had been since I entered the shower, but by now I didn't care. The fact he was watching me stroking myself excited me more: I wondered if he liked my cock, long and nestling in light pubic hair; I wondered I was turning him on.

We stood like that, watching each other wank, admiring each other cocks, each thinking our own thoughts about the other.

Then, abruptly, he turned his shower off and disappeared from view. Still masturbating, I wondered where he'd gone; wondered why he'd got out of the shower. It occurred to me that maybe he'd orgasmed and that I hadn't realised. This was an ongoing bone of contention between Kaz and I: perhaps my insensitivity in that area extended to men. But surely I'd have seen his semen...? I wondered if perhaps I'd been wrong about him watching me: that he'd just been having some solitary fun which had ended and that he'd been totally oblivious to my presence.

But then I heard his cubicle door open and heard him tap at the door of mine.

I left the shower and wrapped my towel around my waist. Then I opened the door.

He was standing there, towel around his waist, dripping wet and with his hair covered in shampoo lather. He was carrying his sports bag and his towel.

He grinned broadly. I guess I just stared at him.

He explained, "My water went cold suddenly. I've no more change."

I was about to offer to give him more money but before I could he continued. "I just need to rinse my hair. Can I use yours for a minute?"

I looked at him, standing in front of me wet and smiling. My hard-on was underneath my towel, still throbbing. I felt as horny as hell and the idea of seeing him continue to play with his cock or to finger his arse in front of me was really appealing. I reminded myself of my earlier plans of gentle rejection but then disregarded them. I thought, "It's no big deal, I guess..."

So I said, "Yeah." Then I opened the door and he came in and put his stuff down. I closed it again and locked it and we stared at each other, towels around our waists. His chest was hairless and looked athletic.

He dropped his towel to the floor; his erection sprung upwards and he turned to get under the spray of the shower. He stood under it rinsing the lather out of his hair, facing me but with his eyes closed. His thick, stiff cock bobbed around in front of him in mid-air as he massaged his scalp. When he'd finished rinsing his hair, he opened his eyes and flashed me a wicked grin.

He said, "You better get in too, mate, before the water goes cold in here."

I dropped my towel to the floor and my cock bounced upwards, curved and throbbing.

He said, "Nice bit o' kit."

I smiled.

I got into the shower with him and he moved over so I could share the stream of water. We just stood and faced each other, our hard cocks curving upwards towards each other, letting the hot water spray down onto our chests.

Then he reached for the shower gel he'd brought in with him and squirted some onto his hand. He rubbed it onto my chest, lathering it around my nipples, and drew swirling patterns with his hands on the smooth, hairless skin. He looked up at me, his deep brown eyes more serious now, and said, "You don't mind, do you?"

I shook my head and his hands moved downwards to my stomach, rubbing soapy water into my skin and making patterns with his fingers. Then, sensing my consent, he moved further downwards, gently kneading his fingers through my pubic hair and then stroked them upwards along the curved stem of my aching cock. I pushed my hips out further, willing him to continue, and he smiled and started gently working my foreskin upwards and downwards with his soapy hand. His other moved down to my balls and cupped them, squeezing and playing with them inside the loose bag of my scrotum.

I grabbed my own shower gel and squirted the last of it onto my hand, feeling his fist gripping my cock more tightly and his rhythm increasing. I went straight for his cock, working the soap along its thick length, feeling it jumping about as my palm rubbed against its sensitive head. Then I took it into my fist and started working it as he was with mine, gently moving his foreskin back and forth, feeling it throbbing in my grip. My other hand moved around to his arse and I caressed it as I masturbated him. It felt as solid as it looked: his cheeks were hard and round and squeezed tightly together in the centre.

I looked down at our hands on each other's cocks, beating up and down with quickening rhythm. Then I looked at his face. He grinned at me. Then asked, "What do you like doin'?"

I kept wanking him and rubbing his smooth arse, wondering what to say. After a few seconds I muttered, "I dunno. I'm kind of new at this..."

His smile broadened and he shook his head slightly.

I smiled back and admitted, "Well, pretty new..."

He was more direct. "Do you like getting fucked?"

I looked down at his cock, large and thick between in my fist. I said, "I dunno..." I kept wanking him, undeniably aroused by his size but at the same time worried about the thought of it penetrating me. I asked, "What about you?"

He grinned mischievously again. "I like anything, mate. Any fuckin' thing."

I felt a surge of excitement. I said, "Do you like getting fucked?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. Givin' or takin'. Either way."

Then he released my cock and, pushing my hand away from his, dropped to his knees. Without further discussion, he started licking at my bell end, teasing it with his tongue, lapping at my piss slit like it was a lollipop. I grabbed his head, smoothing his wet hair and rubbing his scalp. He grabbed my arse, holding a cheek in each hand, gently massaging them.