Chapter 1: Open Door
“Are you whackin’ it again?!” Benji called at the bathroom door. “I gotta take a piss, dude!”
“Hold on!” I yelled back. He was right, though. That’s exactly what I was doing. I was stressed out, and whenever I’d get stressed out, I’d have to rub one out. It’s the only thing I found to calm my anxiety successfully and quickly.
Benji, my best friend of 12 years, knew that about me.
“Dude, come on! I’m gonna piss my pants. At least let me piss in the bathtub or the sink or something!” He pounded on the door, his rhythm lined up with my vigorous strokes.
“It’s unlocked.” I rolled my eyes, thinking to myself, Whatever.
Benji had seen me naked a handful of times, either changing in gym class—which I avoided as much as possible until my shorts ripped during a stretch—or just changing in and out of our bathing suits as kids and teenagers to go in his family’s pool.
Now we were both 23, just out of college. We’d decided to get an apartment together—a studio was all we could afford—in our hometown after graduating from separate colleges, while we worked and saved money. It was just like old times, really. We’d stay up late playing video games, eating junk food, scrolling on our phones, even having deep talks about our life.
I didn’t have many guy friends throughout school and college, but Benji was the exception. He had embodied the ‘skater boy’ aesthetic—longish, wavy blonde hair, baggy clothes hanging off his pale and lanky frame—despite never setting foot in a skatepark once in his life. But after meeting in sixth grade, we’d been basically inseparable, like brothers, but not quite. If I wasn’t staying at his place, he would be at mine. His parents were my second parents, and vice versa.
So living together, officially, felt normal. We knew each other’s mannerisms and quirks, so nothing was truly surprising. He knew I liked to jack off whenever and wherever possible to alleviate my stress. He’d first caught me when we were seniors in high school, both just 18. I don’t know how I’d managed to hide it from him up to that point, but that day was a particularly stressful day at school, especially with college applications and decisions, AP classes and exams, all seemingly swirling all around me.
So when we had gotten to his house that evening, I quickly excused myself to the bathroom closest to his bedroom. And then, like many hormonal young adults, it didn’t take long before I was hard enough to start cranking it. But then, having forgotten I was in there, Benji barged in and caught me with my dick in my hand. He freaked out and slammed the door behind him, which caught his mother’s attention. I had to explain, through the door—while I was still jerking off, mind you—that he’d just walked in on me while I was using the bathroom.
Ever since then, Benji knew better than to open a closed door with me in the house. Now sharing a studio apartment with Benji, the bathroom was really the only private place for some alone time. And I generally didn’t mind minimal alone time, especially if I was spending all my time with my best friend. But I did try to keep the stress-jerking to a minimum, out of respect for him and myself.
But when I was stress-jerking, I wanted to be alone with my dick. And now Benji was pounding on the door waiting to use the toilet, which I had posted up on mere minutes beforehand. I was just staring to get into it, too.
“The door is unlocked,” I repeated, louder, almost as a challenge.
“Well, is your hog still out?” His voice sounded strained, like he was holding on by a thread.
“Find out for yourself!”
“Whatever, man,” he said, opening the door with hesitation. The toilet faced the door, so there was no avoiding me, despite him trying to avert his eyes. I’d kept my dick out, but I didn’t really know why. I didn’t even stop stroking, mostly just to make him laugh. Or to make me laugh. Or maybe I just wanted him to see…
“Jesus, Gabe!” He put his forearm over his eyes. “And you aren’t even gonna let me piss in my own toilet?!”
“It’s our toilet. And I was here first, man,” I said slyly.
“Whatever, perv,” replied a clearly desperate Benji as he jogged to the sink. He pulled down his green athletic shorts and whipped out his junk. His pubes were trimmed and blonde, almost hard to see if I didn’t know better. His dick wasn’t very big soft, thick, but not quite passing how far out his big balls protruded, but I couldn’t help but stare as a steam of pee flowed out of it into the bathroom sink. He let out a long, shuddering sigh.
“The sink?!” I laughed. I slowed my strokes, but I didn’t stop. Looking at Benji’s dick made me want to keep going, but I tried to ignore that feeling.
“It’s dick-level with minimal splash back,” he said, very matter-of-fact. “Easy choice.”
“You sound like an expert on the subject.” I raised an eyebrow. But I still couldn’t stop stroking. It felt so good, strangely, to have a witness. Or maybe it was just the fact that it was Benji? No, not that.
“Sometimes a sink piss is easier than a toilet piss. Especially in an emergency.” He started gently pulling along his shaft and shaking the drips off.
“Well, you could’ve gone to the bathroom at any time. Why did it have to be as soon as I was in here?” I asked as Benji ran some water and washed his hands.
“I was watching the game, waiting for halftime. Why do you have to take 20 minutes to beat off every time?”
“I like to take my time.” I leaned back and angled my dick down a bit to make it stick even farther out.
“Clearly,” Benji replied, turning to me. He looked down at my hard cock as I slowly jerked it. His eyes lingered for a few seconds before he snapped his gaze up to meet mine. “Anyway, I guess I’ll see you when you’re done, you weirdo.”
“Bye-bye, sink pisser!” I grinned obnoxiously as he closed the door behind him. But as I continued cranking my cock, I couldn’t shove away the image of him staring at me. Staring at my cock as I jerked off. The fact that I didn’t stop. The fact that I didn’t want to stop. The fact that I’d hoped he’d come in.
Suddenly, I felt myself reaching the point of no return. So I stood up and leaned forward, pointing the head of my cock down toward the toilet bowl. I gripped my cock backhand and started to squat my knees as I jerked, like I was fucking my hand, at last firing off a load right into the toilet water. My knees shook and I let out a soft moan.
“Dude! What the fuck?!” Benji’s voice boomed from the main room. In a studio apartment with two futons instead of beds or couches, the bathroom door wasn’t even thick enough to cover up the sound.
“Whatever, Benj!” I yelled back, standing up to flush. I wiped the remaining drip of cum off the head of my dick with some toilet paper and tossed it into the draining whirlpool. Then I washed my hands and walked out into our living room which was also our bedroom.
Benji was in the small kitchen, which was barely separated from the rest of the apartment by a half-wall that doubled as a bar and kitchen island. He was bent over in the fridge, pulling out two beers. Then he stood up and spun around to face me.
“Here’s a beer. Sorry it’s not a ‘Bush’ lite to match your jungle.” He rolled his eyes and handed me a bottle. “Congrats on the orgasm, friend.”
“Thanks, man. I’m so glad I have your support in all my endeavors.” I put a hand on his shoulder, and he made a face and cringed away jokingly.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go endeavor myself now.” He winked and walked past me toward the bathroom, beer in hand.
“Oh, yeah?” I raised an eyebrow. Trying to one-up him, I asked, “So, you liked what you saw so much you have to go rub one out now?”
Benji didn’t say anything. He stood with his back to the bathroom door. I scrunched my eyebrows and cocked my head. Finally, he mumbled, “And what if I did?”
My mouth was agape. Had I heard him right? Benji quickly whipped around and closed the bathroom door behind him.
He was just kidding, I thought, sitting down on my futon and turning up the volume on the halftime commercials. I wasn’t that into basketball, but I watched with Benji. I watched anything and everything with Benji.
