Liam
Earlier that night
“What the fuck?” I sat up and rubbed my eyes as I heard a crash—then I realized it wasn’t a crash, it was Gerard stumbling into the wall near the door.
“Hey… What’s up, bro?” His words were slurred, and he was severely drunk—so much so that I could smell the alcohol before he made it into the living room.
“You haven’t called me bro since high school,” I grunted and threw off the quilt that was laying across me. “How drunk are you?”
“I’m good.” He grinned and stumbled into the door frame.
“Careful man, you’re going to wake up Rachel.” I got up off the couch and walked over. “Can you aim yourself down the hallway and walk in a straight line?”
“If I could walk in a straight line, I would have driven myself home.” He growled under his breath. “Fucking bartender wouldn’t let me.”
“Sounds like he had better sense than you did. Come on.” I put an arm around him for support.
“I told the bartender he wasn’t my best friend—you’re my best friend.” Gerard’s words were so slurred I could barely understand him.
“Yeah? It didn’t seem like it when you left earlier.” I pulled against his weight and tried to get him to start walking.
“No, you really are.” He smiled and patted my shoulder. “I’m the asshole.”
“Glad you admit that when you’re drunk.” I sighed and motioned towards the hallway. “Come on, you need to go to bed.”
“Oh, that looks comfortable.” Gerard pulled away and half-stumbled, half-fell towards the couch.
“Gerard—fuck, come on man. That’s my bed! Ugh!” I realized he was already out—even before his head landed on my pillow.
“Fucking shit…” I put my hands on my hips. “Well, then I’m sleeping in your bed.”
Of course, he’s not going to reply.
I started down the hallway, but I was wide awake, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to go back to sleep. I had no idea how Gerard was going to be able to make it into work the next morning. There weren’t enough hours left in the night to sleep off what he had drunk. On top of that, he was going to have a hangover that would make it hard to pick his head up off the pillow. At least it wasn’t a regular occurrence—I would have been more worried if it was. Before things got serious with the girl that broke my heart, I was the one who usually got drunk every night. Gerard normally only had one or two drinks and called it quits. Since moving in with Billy, we often just had a few beers at most. I knew Gerard had a lot on his mind, and so did I. If he needed a night of getting shit-faced, then I couldn’t judge him for it. He had certainly given me plenty of leeway’s when I came home drunk as fuck.
Wow, Rachel is a—loud sleeper.
I paused when I got to Rachel’s door because I could hear noises on the other side. As my hearing focused on the sound, I realized she was—moaning. A few seconds later, I understood why. She was masturbating—or having one hell of a good dream. Hearing her made my cock get hard in my pants immediately. I wanted to keep walking but just thinking about her behind that door doing dirty things made me salivate. I wondered what she was thinking about—if our kiss had something to do with her getting so turned on that she had to pleasure herself in the middle of the night. A gnawing in my stomach told me that if she was thinking about someone, it was probably the guy who hurt her—who was currently drunk off his ass in the living room. Whatever it was, she was definitely getting into it. My cock started begging for attention and throbbing against the front of my pants.
God damn, that’s hot.
I pushed my hand into my pants and started stroking my shaft. I suddenly wasn’t mad at Gerard for waking me, because Rachel’s moans were like music to my ears. I hadn’t been with anyone since my break-up, so even the sound of a woman’s pleasure was enough to make my dick rock hard. It certainly didn’t hurt that my body ached for the woman on the other side of the door. It was too bad that she made me stop—I could have given her something to moan about that wasn’t in her head. As my hand moved up and down my length, I thought about the kiss—her perfect curves—the way she looked earlier that morning when she came back from her run. It was a kaleidoscope of images mixing with memories, but every one of them was sweet nirvana. I wanted her so fucking bad—if she let me close again, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to stop without driving myself mad.
Oh god—I’m going to come.
I thought about rushing to the bathroom to finish, but then I wouldn’t have been able to hear her moans—and they were getting louder. I might have been able to listen to those from the couch if I had been awake. Gerard was passed out, so he wasn’t going to hear anything. I kept sliding my hand along my shaft, pumping it faster as her moans intensified. I listened to what I was sure was an orgasm—at least the sound of her vocal response—and that was enough for me. Cum surged through my shaft and erupted in my pants. I kept going, even after the first knots of cum left me sticky because I still had more—and she wasn’t quite done. I stroked myself until more cum flooded my pants, then kept going until every drop was drained from my balls. There was silence on the other side of the door. We had both finished. I felt a little guilty but hearing her was too much of a turn-on for me to ignore.
/> I guess I should get cleaned up and go to bed—maybe I can salvage a few hours of sleep out of the rest of this night.
The next morning
“He’s still passed out?” I chuckled as I walked into the living room to see Rachel stretching out for a run.
“Yeah and he stinks—what the hell happened after I went to bed?” She looked at me with concern on her face.
Let’s not talk about the good part—yeah, that needs to stay buried in my memories.
“I think he had a few too many drinks.” I shrugged. “He passed out on the couch, so I just slept in his bed.”