Ed In The Shower
by Paul Penn


Edward Fenton was one of those rugby lads with a reputation of a stud. He was 6 foot 2 inches, stacked like a ruggerbugger and had long dark eyelashes and full soft lips. His face was gentle and generous though his body was hard and manly. His dark mussy hair made him look as if he had just got out of bed and he spoke in a sleepy drawl, husky and sexy. He was from Tynemouth, so he had a Geordie twang.

And he was my best mate in the last two years at university. I could have been jealous of his looks and build. I wasn’t. I thought it was a laugh to have such a magnet to hang around with. Whenever we walked together down streets on pub crawls, it was as if I was invisible – you could see all the women staring in wonder at this god on earth. He was well known and both lads and lasses would shout out to him – sometimes dirty offers, sometimes just friendly greetings to get his attention and hopefully a gorgeous grin from his wide, smiley mouth.

I was just Paul, his mate. People would talk to him with animated faces and then glance at me every now and again as if I was some lackey, some servant who tagged along. I didn’t give a shit. It was me he rung up when he wanted to go out for a beer; it was me that gave him lifts to the matches; it was the boot of my car where he stashed his kit bag; so I was secure that he felt I was a good mate. And I was the one he picked to hang out with. I was the one he sat next to in the changing rooms and we sometimes shared a peg in small dressing rooms, our sweaty boxers one on top of another, stenches mingling on the peg. Sometimes we went home with each other’s socks on and sometimes we ended up with bits of each other’s kit in our bags.

Ed never knew that I lusted after him, though by now I expect you, dear reader, know this.

It was HIS body I imagined crushing me, hot and naked. It was HIS dick I imagined pulsing on my thigh. It was HIS tongue I thought might fill my mouth one day. It was HIS stubble I could feel in my imagination scraping across my neck as we wrestled in shorts or jockstraps (I wish) after a match.

The February morning when this event happened was especially cold and, as I dragged my body out of bed, my dick soon shriveled from its bulbous piss-hard morning state to a perky three wrinkled inches. It was a rainy Saturday and we had a home game. I banged on Ed’s door and shouted “Get up, mate, we’ve got to go in half an hour.” We’d been on the piss the night before and collapsed through the door of our student flat at two in the morning.

I was a bit hazy about what had happened the night before but a lot of beer was consumed and a lot of aimless horny talk was had. I remember mooning some middle-aged folk in the centre of town with a gang of lads – five puckering hairy arseholes winking in the night – quite a sight if you were there that night in St Peter’s Square in Manchester.

So on this cold, rainy February morning I was fair bursting to open my bladder. I let rip a steady stream of thick piss into the urinal and enjoyed the release of the pressure in my guts. I always love that first piss of the morning, when you can sigh and moan as it flows from your floppy. I shook the last drops out and gave my skin a few pulls and shakes, adding a welcome half inch to its depleted state, then moved towards the shower.

There were ten rooms in this flat, all occupied by blokes and there were two showers – one over the bath and one in a bigger cubicle. I had fantasized about getting soapy in the cubicle with Ed, but we’d never been in the room at the same time.

I picked the over-the-bath shower because it gave more elbow room and turned the jet on until it seemed just the tingling side of warm. I stepped in and picked up the big bar of Imperial Leather soap.

Steam started billowing round as I started soaping myself, giving my cock and balls a good squeeze as I did so. My love-tube started lengthening and plumping up. It felt good and I wondered whether I could risk a wank before Ed came in for his slash. I hadn’t locked the door and most of us were in the habit of going in and out, even when shitting, so there was little modesty.

As I tugged away, my favourite body part lifted out from my balls and hung suspended away from my body, pert and powerful, pulsing and thick. I tugged at the hairs round my nipples and pinched the little buds till they were painful and pointing out. I bent my head down and pulled up my chest flesh until I could tongue-flick the end of my stud-like nipples.

My hard-on was now enormous, throbbing like a fleshy courgette. The foreskin was well back and I slowly bucked my hips to and fro as I gripped and tugged my meat with my fist. I moved my free hand round to my clenching buttocks and ran the ends of my fingers down and then up the crack.

I heard a sound and took a step away from the steam. There was Ed in the middle of the bathroom, his jaw dropped open. I found out later that he had never seen another male in full erection, only the horsing-around half-hard dicks in the team changing rooms. He did not have an older brother to show him the way and he had never had his mitts on pornography of any kind (this was the time before the internet, when porn was harder to access.)

“Hey, Paul!” snapped Ed.

“Sorry, pal,” I said quietly. “I just felt so fuckin’ horny.”

“You looked like you were having a good time. In fact you looked horny as fuck. I wasn’t perving. Honest. Carry on.” He was standing there holding his towel in one hand, his rising dick plain to view.

It just came out – “do you wanna join in then?” – I can still hardly believe I said it.

Ed’s dick was rearing up now, the pink helmet pushing out of the foreskin.

“Turn round,” said Ed, “and bend over.” I did as I was told and instinctively grabbed my buttocks and spread them. Sheer instinct. Ed groaned at the sight of my puckered and rosy hole. Girl-holes were never that tight! He grabbed his cock, strode into the cubicle and pushed his cock-head up against my virgin hole. It resisted totally.

“Steady on, pal,” I said. “You’re gonna have to slick me up first if you wanna do that.”

Ed growled: “I’m not queer, you know, I just need to get my rocks off.”

“So do I. Fuck knows we’re not queer, but if you’re gonna fuck me, you’ve got to get your knob slippy.”

I dropped to my knees and reached out to hold and kiss Ed’s raging pole. The veins were standing out and the end was purple with blood. A blob of cum leaked out the end and that was my cue to start licking. I licked the man-juice away, marveling at the taste of another male. Ed shuddered with pleasure, then watched as I licked my lips and started nuzzling his erection. He moaned and, without thinking, pulled me to my feet and planted his mouth over my now spunky mouth. He pushed his tongue deep into my throat and mashed his lips over my lips.

“You little fucker, Paul!” rasped Ed and reached down to close his hand round my throbbing tube. I almost shot my load there and then, particularly when Ed pulled his fist down the shaft and back up again.

He dropped to his knees and jammed his mouth over my hard-on, all the way to the dark bush of my pubic hair. I could feel the back of his throat with my bell-end and he slurped up the full length two or three times and then dove underneath to nuzzle, lick and suck on my egg-shaped balls swinging beneath my groin. He sat down on the floor of the shower and I put one foot on his shoulder. He then tongued his way back to my dark hairy crack and started pushing his tongue and nose into the hairs and aiming for the pink hole.

My legs started to buckle as Ed’s tongue went ever deeper into my nether region, and as the tongue came out a soft finger gently went in. I groaned loudly, my legs wobbling, sinking my body deeper onto the fleshy tongue and wiggling finger. Suddenly two fingers went slithering past my puckering gateway and deep into the chute beyond.

“Aagh,” I screamed and bent double.

We both stood up again and I fisted his cock, watching it vibrate and pulsate as the spunk filled the tubes ready to shoot. “Fuck, ” groaned Ed. “Man, I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I can’t stop! I’m gonna cum!”

“Try fucking me again,” I said as I grabbed some shower gel and squirted loads of it on Ed’s fuck-pole and slopped a bit on my dilating hole. Ed grinned with cheeky lust, and pushed me against the tiles and squeezed his knob easily into my welcoming fuck-chute.

My head and heart exploded with pleasure and waves of sensation shot through my body as my insides were filled with the monstrous manhood of my best mate. “You’re so fuckin’ big!” I gasped.

Ed’s bell-end had swelled to enormous proportions and later he said he felt the pulse of the blood in the pulse of his cock throbbing deep in the pulsing passage of my arse. He started to withdraw and I moaned, so he stuffed himself back into my channel. Out, in. Out, in. Out, in. Throbbing and pulsing, advancing and retreating.

“Fuck, Paul. Fucking hell. Fuck it. Fuck it.” He stopped using expletives and simply started grunting in rhythm to his dynamic thrusts – “Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh!”

Pressure built in both our insides, balls jumping with tension, spunk-tubes filled to the brim and spilling into waves of extra pre-cum lubrication. I flung my head from side to side and Ed arched his back more and more as we climbed ever closer to the moment of explosion.

“Bloody hell, Ed. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

Ed reached round to feel and squeeze my balls and started wanking me with his soapy hand.

“Please,” I said. “Please now. I can’t hold back.” Ed was pounding so hard that my heels kept leaving the floor of the shower. We were grunting and moaning, no longer quiet. The shower room was filled with the smell of spunky men. We were flushed red from scalp to feet and the water continued to spray hot all over our faces, backs and bodies.

“NOW!” shouted Ed. My cock suddenly erupted with ropes and squirts of white cream. The final thrusts up my arse were completely out-of-control as I felt Ed’s cock seemed to triple in size inside just before the filling-up I got with spewing, surging power. We collapsed onto the wall in a sticky smelly mess of desire and pleasure.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” gasped Ed, his face plastered onto my wet back. We twitched and shuddered to a peace and then, with Ed’s soft and flaccid member still trembling inside my body he turned my neck round and kissed me, long and deep, his tongue filling my mouth. The water cascaded around us and our hearts beat like bass drums in the wild. We then both straightened our knees and stood upright.

As that happened his sausage slithered out of my ravished hole and we heard clapping.

Two of the other lads had seen the last few minutes and were standing there, towels wrapped round their waists, dicks poking a bulge in front, grinning away like Cheshire cats. I was too spaced out to notice what they said or how we got out of the bathroom that day. Ed told me later that he had seen Mike and Dominic when they first came in but had been too carried away to stop; and that it turned him on even more to fuck me in public.

Mike had said “lucky fuckers.”

Dominic had said “shall we follow ’em?”

And as we left the bathroom, Ed saw them getting into the shower together.

Back in my room we wiped each other off with a towel and lay on my single bed dozing as our hearts recovered their normal beat, gently holding each other’s cocks and occasionally kissing. No words. Just a fresh level of friendship. Very fresh.


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