Practice Partner - The Exchange Student Part 5

It became a routine.

Come home. Drop my bag. Strip to my boxers. Climb onto my bed. And start stroking.

Ren would already be there — sometimes on his bed, sometimes sitting cross-legged on the carpet, sometimes just watching videos on his phone like nothing was unusual. Like we weren’t two twenty-year-olds who jerked off in the same room nearly every night now. Like we hadn’t shown each other our cum.

It wasn’t a big deal. That’s what I told myself.

We never talked about it.

No jokes. No rules.

Just… ritual.

And it kept happening. Almost every night. We’d glance at each other, maybe smile, and then… shirts would come off. Hands would drift. Sometimes we did it under the covers. Sometimes on top. Always close enough to hear the other breathe.

And the moaning? That got louder.

His especially.

The first time it shifted — I mean really shifted — was a Friday.

I’d had a long day. Class. A midterm. Group project bullshit. I came back exhausted, dropped onto my bed, and muttered, “I need to cum so bad.”

Ren looked up from his side. Just nodded. Like I’d said, I’m hungry. Then he crawled across his bed and sat on the edge, facing me.

I pulled my shorts off. No shame anymore. My cock was hard in seconds. My body just knew what time it was.

I started stroking.

Ren watched. Not hiding it. His eyes followed every motion. He breathed slow. Deep. Like he was syncing his own rhythm with mine.

Then he said it.

Soft. Polite.

“Can I touch?”

I froze.

My hand still on my cock. My chest rising a little faster.

I looked at him.

He looked serious.

Not teasing. Not joking.

He wanted to feel me.

I nodded. Couldn’t even speak.

He moved slowly. Crossed the space between our beds, knelt in front of me. His hands were soft, small, warm. He reached out and wrapped them around my cock — tentative at first, like I’d break. Then a little firmer.

“Like this?” he asked.

I moaned.

“Yeah. Just like that.”

He stroked me carefully, his fingers wrapping around the shaft, thumb grazing the tip. His eyes stayed on it — fascinated. Curious. Like he was studying a new language with his hands.

I leaned back on my elbows, thighs spreading wider. Letting him see everything. Letting him do everything.

“You’re so… wet,” he whispered.

“That’s precum,” I said, breathless. “Means I’m close.”

He nodded. His hand sped up. Still gentle. Still almost clinical — like he didn’t want to hurt me, but needed to learn every detail. His mouth parted. His breathing quickened.

I didn’t last.

I gasped. My whole body tensed. And I came — hard — all over his hand. Hot, thick ropes splashing across his fingers, his wrist, his palm.

He held still.

Watched it drip.

Then looked up at me with those dark, unreadable eyes and whispered, “I want to know what it tastes like.”

And before I could say a word…

He brought his hand to his mouth.

And licked.

I watched in silence as his tongue curled around his palm, collecting the mess. His expression didn’t change — he wasn’t doing it to turn me on. He was just… curious.

“I like it,” he said, lips glistening. “Sweet. Salty. Strange.”

My heart was thumping.

I was still half-hard.

And completely speechless.

We didn’t speak the rest of the night. Just lay there in our separate beds, shirtless and quiet, our chests rising and falling in sync.

But I knew.

Something had changed.

He wasn’t just learning anymore.

He wanted me.

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PART 6 Preview

My phone buzzed.

Ren
(1 video)

No message. Just the video.

I hesitated. Opened it.

And my whole world stopped.