More Than the Ball (17 page)

His hand loosened a bit and I started to draw my head back, but he wasn’t done and another blast hit me, this time filling my mouth before I was able to swallow it down. The taste was strong and salty, but kind of pleasant, and I closed my lips around his throbbing cock to make sure none escaped as I swallowed.

One more little twitch rewarded me with a bit more, and then he finally withdrew, collapsing back against the couch with a heavy sigh. I rolled over to lean against the couch on the floor, licking my lips and swallowing down the remainder that was in my mouth.

After a few minutes, we both dressed in the darkness and then turned the movie back on, but left the lights off. We sat mostly in silence, watching until the end and then both said goodnight, heading to our respective rooms.

I lay in my bed for a while, considering what we’d just done but the longer I thought about it, the harder my dick became until I couldn’t lay there anymore, I had to get up and go and talk to Andre. Find out if he was thinking some of the same things I was thinking. I needed to make sure our brojob experiment wasn’t going to change anything between us.

And then I intended to find out if he wanted to continue experimenting…

W
hen my apartment
door opened on Saturday afternoon, I wasn't expecting to see my roommate stroll back in. He was supposed to be gone to see his parents for the weekend, and had actually just left about an hour ago. I was actually looking forward to the apartment all to myself for a couple of days. I mean, despite what had happened between us a week ago, we hadn’t really spoken of it since and I was fine to keep it that way.

After those first brojobs, I actually thought that maybe I wanted to continue things, but after a long discussion in his room later that night, we decided not to risk our friendship by turning it into anything other than what it was; a fun little experiment that let both of us blow off some steam. And come. A hell of a lot of come.

So although we didn’t rule out doing it again in the future, since then we hadn’t even talked about it and the more time passed, the more I thought that was probably a good idea. We’re not gay, so we needed to spend more time working on our heterosexual relationships. Problem was, both of us were having problems in that department. I was completely single now, after breaking up with Danica, and Andre was still having issues with Veronica and their constant fighting.

Still, I was looking forward to a bit of alone time this weekend, although the only thing I really had planned was my own personal masturbation marathon. I could still do that with him home, of course, but I would have to be quieter and keep to my room.

"Hey Tyler," he said, flashing me a grin as he flipped his blond hair back and out of his eyes, dragging his suitcase back through our front door.

"Andre," I said, stepping back out of the way to let him roll through the hallway. "What happened to visiting your parents?”

“Yeah, that’s not happening dude. Old man ended up winning a trip to Vegas and this was the only weekend he and my mom could go. Fucking guy has been filling out ballots for every contest he passes my entire life and this is the first thing I remember him winning. You should see the amount of spam he gets in his email, and junkmail to the house. He must be on every mailing list in existence by now.”

I laughed. I knew his dad well since Andre and I have been friends since grade school and I can remember him stopping at every store in the mall to fill out those little slips of paper, hoping to win something. Anything. It didn’t even matter, he just wanted to win.

“He’s always been a gambler, so this is actually the best prize he could have hoped for. I just got off the phone with him, he’s ecstatic. He says he’s sorry to cancel, but I think he’d actually give up a weekend with me for a free trip to Vegas any time, to be honest.” He’s smiling, but I wonder how much truth there is to that. There have been times where I’ve thought his father did have a bit of a gambling problem.

"I doubt that," I said with a shake of my head, trying to sound supportive.

"Anyway, who cares. Now we can hang this weekend. Or do you have plans?"

“No, not really,” I said. This was obviously going to change my weekend slightly, but I still had a hard drive full of porn downloading to my computer in my room, and I could always get to it tonight. Andre and I always had a good time when we hung out anyway. I’ve never regretted rooming with him since we started college together last year, and I wasn’t about to start now just because his sudden appearances was cockblocking my solo masturbation party.

Andre slipped next to me, bumping me with one of his massive shoulders playfully. “Great. I picked up a case of beer on my way back after I got the call that they were cancelling. Let’s just drink ourselves silly and not even leave this apartment all weekend. I have the pizza place on speed dial.”

Despite the fact that I had my own ideas for the weekend, Andre’s usual exuberance was rubbing off and I was starting to look forward to hanging out with him after all. Besides, there’s only so much jerking it you can do before you start to get raw. So when Andre left to get the beer from his car, I called for the pizza and our day was planned.

“So do you think your mother is happy to be heading to Vegas, or is she just tagging along because your dad won two tickets?” I asked as I dug into my third slice of pizza. I’ve been keeping pace with my beers as well, downing one per slice, and Andre has been matching me. I was already feeling a bit buzzed, and my mind flashed to the last time we had been drinking together. Was that in store for us again? I shook it off. I had plenty of hetero porn waiting for me on my computer for after we went to bed. I didn’t need another brojob from my best friend. And yet just the thought of it was causing my cock to stir in my pants.
Traitor!

"Considering his past, I think she probably went to keep tabs on him," he said with a laugh. "My dad used to be quite the ladies’ man, or so I’ve been told. He used to drink and gamble and basically fuck anything with two legs before he met my mom. And she always said she didn't think he was going to stop once he got married. I always wondered if that was a joke."

“Probably was…”

“I don’t know. Apparently he was quite the dog. He used to cheat at everything.. at school, at cards, with women, you name it. But my mom always said she was the one that finally tamed him. Put him on the short leash, so to speak.”

I laughed, taking another swig of my beer. "You ever been there? Vegas, I mean?" I never had, but it was a place I’d always wanted to go. Andre and I used to play cards with friends when we first started college but the game never continued. At least not for us.

“Nope. What’s the point? We wouldn’t be allowed to even set foot on the casino floor for another year anyway.”

“Oh, right. I forgot about that.” It sucked not being 21 yet. Just to buy beer Andre had to travel half way across town to a liquor store known for being lax with their carding policy. Even still, he at least looked like he was 21. I could barely pass for 19 some days.

“Yep. So until then, we’re stuck playing for pennies with our friends. Whatever happened to that game we use to play with the dudes from Alpha Sigma Pi?”

I finished my third beer and pushed away the half a slice of pizza left on my plate as I leaned back against the couch. “If I remember correctly, they didn’t like us taking all of their pennies.” It was true, we had played with them three or four times, and each time either Andre or myself ended up the big winner of the night. Then, all of a sudden, they stopped asking us to come back, but I was pretty sure the game was still going on.

This time Andre threw his head back and laughed as he finished off the last of his beer. “That’s fucking right, I forgot. We took those fools to the cleaners. No wonder they’re dragging their feet on my application.”

Andre was applying to their fraternity, but as he missed Rush week they weren’t that keen on giving him a chance. It was looking like he’d have to wait until next year, and I know he was disappointed.

“Whatever,” I said, wondering if I should have another beer. I was already feeling pretty good, but the pizza might start soaking it up once the race it was in to my stomach was over.

“I was actually pretty surprised at how well you did.”

“With what?” My blond friend is grinning at me from his side of the couch. His tank top is stretched tightly against his chest and I can see his pecs clearly defined underneath. Say what you will about football jocks, but they were well built. If he and Veronica didn’t patch things up soon, I was pretty sure I’d start seeing a steady stream of women parading back through this little apartment. Not that I’m opposed to that idea. The last time he was single, I did pretty well myself helping occupy a lot of his date’s friends.

“Poker. You aren’t half bad. I think you were even the big winner one time, weren’t you?”

“More than once, if I recall. And yes, I am good. Better than you, in fact.”

Andre laughed again, his blond hair falling down across his dark blue eyes before he flipped it back with a practiced twist of his neck. “Well, let’s not get carried away. I said you weren’t half bad. But you still have a lot to learn.”

“Oh really? I think maybe your muscles have crept into your head and are crowding out your brain if you really believe that.”

"Okay, Tyler," he said slowly. "I'll tell you what. Let's get the cards and find out once and for all who the better player is."

“Game on,” I shrug, standing up to go and find my stack of poker chips. They were buried deep in my closet, and by the time I got out and back into the living room, Andre was already shuffling the cards with two new beers waiting for us.

We decided to play the best of five hands, mostly at my insistence. I wanted to eliminate the element of chance as much as possible, knowing that skill would beat luck in the long run, and I actually was fairly confident that I was the better player. From what I had seen of the times Andre and I had played together, when he did win it was because he seemed to get incredibly lucky with the cards. I wanted to minimize the chance of that happening this time.

I was glad I did after the first hand, since he got lucky and beat my two pair with a straight.

“So what are the stakes,” he said, shuffling the cards again while I sipped my beer and tried not to feel annoyed that he had won the first round.

"20 bucks?" I asked, thinking that it would be good to get an extra twenty this week.

“I was thinking the stakes should be higher than that,” he laughed.

“Easy for you to say after you just won the first hand. But you got lucky so I’ll bite. “100 then?”

“I wasn’t thinking money, actually,” Andre said. “I meant higher as in riskier. For example, if I win you have to do whatever I want."

I frowned at my roommate and best friend for a moment, wondering what sort of evil plan he had in store for me. Visions of our childhood running naked down the street yelling “FREEDOM” came to mind. We had a lot of spirited games of truth or dare growing up, but we weren’t kids anymore. Surely he wouldn’t do something idiotic like that. Besides, I was going to win anyway, and if the stakes went both ways I was sure I could come up with plenty of ways to make Andre suffer.

“Fine, so when I win, you do whatever I want. That works for me.”

“We’ll see,” he said ominously, although I knew he was just trying to get into my head.

We played another hand, and against all odds he beat me again. This time, despite the fact that I had a flush, he ended up with a full house. His luck was ridiculous. Now I knew why Alpha Sigma Pi didn’t want us back. It was just downright annoying.

"I only need to win one more time," he announced, gathering the cards again.

I was starting to get nervous now. But his luck had to run out at some point. I just need that some point to be right the fuck now.

"Okay, what do you have," he asked at the end of our third round.

"Full boat," I announced proudly, laying down my hand of three aces and two Queens face up. I'd finally win one.

"Oh, that's too bad," he said. I smiled broadly. "For you," he finished. Impossibly, Andre lay his hand down and showed me a jack high straight flush.

"What the fuck?" I said, staring at the cards.
How the hell did he get a straight fucking flush? No one ever gets a straight fucking flush, and certainly not three deals in to a two handed game.

As I was still staring at the cards, I barely noticed as Andre stood up and pushed the coffee table out of the way to make room for him to stand up in front of me. When I lifted my head, he was smiling broadly, his blue eyes gleaming in anticipation of whatever ridiculous punishment he had in store. He bit his bottom lip and then licked them both. "Time to pay up," he said. It was like he was practically drooling in anticipation.

I was annoyed as I stared at my roommate, standing before me looking like he had just won an Olympic medal or something. My mind was still reeling at having lost 3 straight poker hands in such a spectacular fashion to someone I was sure was an inferior player. However, when Andre reached down and gave a little tug on the bulge that was beginning to tent the front of his pants, my mind snapped back to attention.

"Uh, Andre…"

"Shhh," he said, lifting a finger and pressing it to his lips for a moment. "A bet's a bet. You have no choice. Your conscience is clear."

What the hell was he talking about?

Both hands dropped down to his pants now and he pulled the zipper down, reaching in and fumbling around for a moment before withdrawing the massive cock that I had seen just once before. Just like last time, I felt a tinge of jealousy at the size of him. One of his hands skimmed lightly up along his length and rubbed the head before dropping away to expose himself completely.
Shit.
He wanted another brojob.

My mouth fell open as the purpose of his bet finally came clear, and I was surprised I hadn’t even expected this. And yet it wasn’t completely unwelcome. In fact, my own cock stirred in my pants as I considered it. We did this once before and it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t change anything between us. It didn’t make us gay. We just had a good time, got each other off with our mouths, and then forgot about it. Mostly. We could do it again. My conscience was far from clear as it still felt a little bit gay, but he was right, a bet was a bet - even if it was one that I should have probably thought a bit more about before I made it in the first place.

But honestly, would I have done anything differently if I had known what he had in mind?
Probably not.

"Suck it," he breathed.

That was all I needed to hear. My hands rose as if they had a mind of their own and closed on the huge shaft in front of me. I squeezed, his hot flesh pressing against my palms as I felt him harden even more in my hands. The difference between last time and this time was that this time the lights were on and I could see everything. There was no pretending that I was with a girl. Well, as the blower and not the blowee, I couldn’t pretend anyway, but it meant that he couldn’t either. Did that make it a bit more gay than last time?