Chapter 6

Recap: Cody helps his straight roommate Brad film content for Brad’s spicy Twitter, featuring him in a tight jockstrap. Watching Brad confidently own the camera leaves Cody unexpectedly turned on. The shots look incredible, and Brad notices Cody’s reaction. With a sly grin, Brad breaks the tension and asks, “Do you wanna be in the video?”

Brad nodded toward the phone in my hand and took one last step closer. His voice dropped even lower. “You ever thought about being in one? Wanna help me make my content better?”

I didn’t answer. My mouth was dry. My cock was rock hard in my sweats. And I couldn’t stop looking at him. His body. The straps digging into his ass. The thick outline straining in that pouch like it was begging for space. “Sure, man,” I said finally. “I’ll help you out. No face though.”

Brad grinned like that sealed the deal. “Yeah, yeah, Cody. Bro, totally. No face. Just start with your hand.”

He looked me over, still standing there in that damn jock like a walking hard-on. “Touch wherever you want,” he added. “I don’t mind. As long as the content turns out good.”

That did something to me.

I had my phone in one hand. My other hand was already moving. I ran it down his chest, slow, tracing the slope of his pec. Then over his abs. Cut. Perfect. Every ridge flexing under my palm. His whole body felt hot and hard, like it had been carved to be touched. I kept going lower, past the waistband, just until I was hovering over his jock again.

Click.

One photo. Just his body with my hand trailing down it.

My cock throbbed. I think I even started leaking right then. Just from touching him. From how casually he stood there and let me. Like it was no big deal. Like he knew exactly what it was doing to me.

“You good?” Brad asked, eyes still on mine.

I nodded. Swallowed.

“Wanna get something wild?” he added, already turning, showing off his ass again like it was part of the script. “Put your fingers under the strap.”

“What?”

He didn’t look back.

“C’mon, bro. Just slide ‘em in under the band. My followers eat that shit up.”

I moved closer. My fingers found the strap on his right cheek. Hesitated. Then slowly, I hooked under it. Tugged gently. His skin was warm. His ass lifted with the tension. It felt good. It felt wrong in the hottest possible way.

“That good?” I asked, voice shaky.

Brad smirked at the mirror. “That’s perfect. Don’t move.”

He grabbed the phone from my hand, flipped the camera around. I didn’t even realize he’d started recording again.

“Smile for the thumbnail,” he joked.

I managed to lift the phone, aim it with one hand while the other stayed glued to his body, still under the strap. Brad posed, smirking over his shoulder like it was just another gym selfie.

Click.

Then he reached down and adjusted the front of his jock. “Okay now grab it.”

I blinked. “Grab what?”