Taking Care of My Roommate | E6

All characters in this story are over 18 years of age.

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He Came for a Thigh Massage, but His Body Wanted More.

It was late. The apartment was quiet, the kind of quiet that only happens when everyone is tired and not pretending to be anything they're not. I was sitting on my bed with a book when Mike walked into my room without knocking. He didn't hesitate for a second. That in itself was the answer.

He looked tired. His shoulders were heavy, his movements slower than usual, as if his whole body was slightly subdued. He sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor for a moment. Then he spoke directly, without preamble.

"Man... my thighs hurt somehow."

There was no joke in it. No test. Just information. As if he were talking about something obvious that already existed between us. I closed the book and put it on the cabinet.

"Lie down," I said calmly. "Take off everything except your boxers. I'll take care of it."

He didn't ask "how." He didn't smile nervously. He did exactly what he was told. He stood up, took off his pants and shirt without embarrassment, as if it were routine, not something intimate. He lay down on his back, his arms loosely at his sides. He breathed deeply, like someone who had come for a specific purpose and had finally arrived at his destination.

I looked at him for a moment before touching him. His thighs, strong, athletic, still tense despite his fatigue. His boxer shorts, which fit him tightly. His face, calmer than it had been a few days ago.

One very clear thought popped into my head.

He's not looking for help anymore. He's looking for me.

And that changed everything.

I sat down at his feet, close enough to rest my hands comfortably on his thighs. I could feel the warmth of his skin just by touching him. Mike lay still, his eyes closed, his chest rising slowly. His body was ready, though not yet relaxed.

I placed my thumbs on the upper part of his thighs and began to press, firmly, evenly, deep into the muscle. I immediately felt resistance. The hardness of muscles that, despite fatigue, remained tense. As if his body didn't quite trust that it could allow itself relief.

The massage was slow, deliberate. My hands moved up and down, my thumbs sinking rhythmically into his body, the warmth increasing. Mike didn't speak, but his breathing deepened. I could feel it under my hands, how his muscles were beginning to soften.

I slid my hands lower, to the inner thighs. There, the skin was softer, more sensitive. I held them firmly and moved my thumbs closer to his groin, but not too quickly. I left space between movements, taking my time. In the silence, every movement meant more.

Mike was still silent. But his body wasn't.

I could see his boxers starting to bulge. The fabric was stretching exactly where it should. Clearly. With weight. And in the middle, a wet spot. Precum. Through the thin fabric, I could see that his cock was not only awake, it was hard, tense, throbbing.

Arousal was not the goal.

It was a side effect of being guided.

"Oh, I see someone's awake," I said calmly, with a barely perceptible smile, watching as his cock hardened fully.

He looked at me. No shame. No escape. Just a short nod, a quiet "yes" that needed no words. I held my hands on his thighs for a moment longer, as if he wanted me to feel the decision before I made it.

"May I?" I asked softly.

He nodded again.

I slowly slid down his boxers. The fabric, stained with precum, offered slight resistance, as if it didn't want to let go of what it was holding. When I pulled them off, his cock sprang out, heavy and hard, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. I paused briefly, letting him feel the exposure, the cool air, the difference. His stomach tensed and then relaxed with a quiet sigh.

"I'll take care of it right away," I said calmly.

"As soon as possible," he replied immediately, his voice lower than before.

There was no impatience in it. There was need. I took it without hesitation. I spread his legs wider, my hands returning to his thighs, pressing them firmly. I could feel his muscles respond, as if his whole body was waiting for this one, specific guidance.

I knelt between his legs without haste but without hesitation. I positioned myself so that he could feel the weight of my presence exactly where he needed it. His thighs were still tense under my hands, wide, strong, ready. I didn't stop touching them. On the contrary. I pressed them harder, as if to remind his body that I was still in control.

I took his cock almost entirely into my mouth at once, knowing he needed it badly. Warmth, depth, certainty. My tongue worked from the first second, wide, decisive. I sucked him hard, rhythmically, allowing his body to immediately shift into high gear.

Mike moaned louder than ever before. His hips rose reflexively.

"Easy," I murmured, without taking my mouth away.

One of my hands moved lower, to his balls. I massaged them slowly, heavily, feeling them tense and react to every movement of my fingers. The other hand stayed on his thigh, pressing it into the mattress. His whole body was focused in one place, exactly where I was taking him.

I sucked him deeply, almost without interruption, breathing through my nose, allowing the rhythm to be unambiguous, intense. His breathing faltered. His stomach trembled.

"Matt..." he gasped. "I... I'm about to... come."

I didn't slow down. On the contrary. I took him even deeper, my tongue pressing exactly where I knew it would finish him off.

The orgasm came quickly. Violently. Without any control. He moaned low and long, and his whole body tensed, as if for a moment he had forgotten how to breathe. Cum filled my mouth in waves, warm, heavy, real. I didn't pull back for a second. I swallowed it all, keeping the rhythm until the very end, until his cock stopped twitching.

Only then did I slow down.

I didn't move away. I stayed close. One hand rested calmly on his thigh, the other on his stomach. I breathed with him, slowly, until the tension began to subside.

Mike lay relaxed, completely exposed, calm in a way I had never seen him before.

He came for relief in his thighs, and got something more.

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