Good Christian - Chapter 04

GOOD CHRISTIAN

Chapter 4: Mind Games

“If you use the bathroom right after me tonight, you might find another present waiting for you.”

I could not stop thinking about it.

Christian was creeping into my thoughts, and I let him.

I did not fully understand his games, but I was willing to show that I could be a great team player.

I was excited when I heard him walk out of the bathroom.

I had been waiting eagerly (resisting the urge to jack off) for the last twenty minutes.

More importantly, I needed to make sure Grace would not take my spot right after her husband.

I hurried out of my room and into the bathroom, not even considering the obvious bulge in my shorts.

I closed the door behind me, almost panting.

There it was, although this time, it lied right in the middle of the room: another pair of dirty underwear.

Christian was a briefs kind of guy. That night, they were navy blue.

Feeling aroused and somewhat odd about it, I picked them up off the floor.

Christian had given me instructions as to what to do with his gift, and this time, I wanted to honor them.

I brought the underwear to my nose and took a good, deep sniff.

“Hmmm…”

It smelled good—exactly like him, like a shot of Christian’s musk in my nostrils.

But it was not just about the scent.

The military officer had done things right. On the front, there were a couple of dried droplets that had left darker stains on the fabric.

Could they be precum?

Used underwear was not really my kink, but the fact that he had thought about this and left his briefs there just for me triggered something in me.

There were more instructions to follow, though.

I vividly remembered him making the jerk-off gesture with his hand and saying something about how I should enjoy the present to the fullest.

It was only fair that I do it justice.

I wrapped the briefs around my cock and started stroking myself in the middle of the bathroom.

The Holmes had money; they had a large bathtub and a shower, but I decided to jerk off right there in front of the sink, checking myself in the mirror.

It turned me on, seeing my reflection doing something so taboo.

The fact that the door did not have a lock and Christian could burst in at any moment made it that much more exciting.

Rest assured, I ran the water so that Grace would hear it and not walk in as I was rubbing my hard dick onto her dear husband's briefs.

I had not completely lost my mind.

Christian was smart about this.

Only a sick mind would think he left the dirty underwear as a present for me. Consequently, if I were to be caught, I would be the only weirdo and pervert in this scenario.

I brushed my nipples with my other hand as I felt the upcoming orgasm building in my balls.

I shut my eyes and thought about the cock I had seen—or almost seen in its entirety—that very morning.

I thought about how Christian had purposely spread his legs to display the goods while flaunting his pecs. 

I thought about how he had used every opportunity to flex his biceps or showcase his armpits during dinner.

What a slut he was!

That thought sent me over the edge, and I exploded all over the sink and the underwear I was still holding.

Shit!

I had not thought that part through.

What was I supposed to do with a pair of Christian’s underwear, freshly soiled with my jizz?

And damn it, it was not a small ejaculation. My spunk was creamy and plentiful on the fabric. That thing was soaked!

I tried to rub it off, but I just ended up spreading more of my seed everywhere.

I decided to go in with my tongue. I licked and swallowed my own semen, mixed with Christian’s scent and probably some of his precum as well.

Mind you, it tasted great.

After that, the briefs looked damp and disgusting but at the very least, they were cum-free (for the most part).

Once they were a little drier and folded in a certain way, nobody would see a thing.

Hopefully, Grace—who was in charge of her husband’s laundry—would not notice anything, but even if she did, Christian would most likely be the one in trouble, not me.

I planned to put the dirty briefs in their shared laundry basket after I showered.

That way, she would not stumble on the evidence in the bathroom.

Once again, it was only after I had finally emptied my balls and my horniness had subsided that I realized how freaky, and let’s be real, how wrong this was.

As I took a long shower, I felt bad.

It was definitely not cool to do this to Grace; she had been nothing but sweet to me and here I was, playing dirty games with her husband.

But what were we actually doing? Was it really that bad?

It was just a stupid pair of underwear and an even stupider mind game.

I put on my teddy-bear pajamas, hid Christian’s briefs in my own pile of dirty clothes, and walked to the laundry room downstairs.

The husband and wife had their own basket, as did I, since I was taking care of my own laundry.

I just had to make sure to put the clothes in the right basket.

“Hey, Harry. Can we talk?”

That made me jump.

I know what you might be thinking, but surprisingly it was Grace who walked up to me this time around, not Christian.

Shit.

I had her husband’s soiled briefs in my hand.

I threw them in the basket quickly, hoping she would not notice.

“Grace! Of course, what’s up?”

She smiled and walked into the laundry room.

“I just wanted to say that I know how Chris can be. He's gruff, and a little rough around the edges, but that's just the army, you know?”

“Oh, no, I understand. There’s no problem with him.”

“He’s a good, decent man, and he’s glad you’re here. He doesn't show it, but last night we had a real conversation. I'll be honest, since my marriage is always my priority, I asked him if you staying was a problem for him.”

“Of course.”

I wondered where this was going.

“Well, Chris actually insisted that we were doing the right thing by continuing my mom's generous act. We’re fully aligned on having you stay, so don’t doubt that.”

“That’s very nice.”

“And again, I know how much my mom adores you.”

She took my hands in hers.

This was a bit weird because we had never been that close. The Holmes were definitely all about intimacy lately!

“I really do appreciate everything your family has done for me. If I get my degree, it will be mostly thanks to you.” I told her.

“It will be because of your hard work, Harry. You don’t owe us anything.”

“Still… I’m grateful.”

She let go of my hands and looked at me with a certain tenderness.

“But anyway, I just wanted to make sure you knew my husband is on board with this. I know he doesn't always show how he truly feels and I don’t want you to feel unwanted.”

She really was a good woman.

Annoyingly religious, yes, but a good woman nonetheless.

That is why it was so wrong when, over the next few days, Christian kept leaving his dirty underwear around for me to find. And I kept playing with them.

We were not discussing it; it was just something that was now happening on the daily.

And clearly, Christian was having a lot of fun with our new habit.

At first, he left them in plain sight. On the third night, I thought he had forgotten about me, but the underwear was actually in the sink.

On the fourth night, he left them in the bathtub.

It was like a mini treasure hunt within the 45 square feet of our shared bathroom. I semi-expected to find them hidden in one of the cabinets next time.

I could not share this part with Javier.

I was somewhat ashamed that I was so turned on by a married man's used underwear that I would literally sniff and lick them.

But because it was driving me so crazy, I did tell Javier that Christian kept toying with me.

I had other examples to give him.

For instance, when Grace was not looking, he would provocatively flex his biceps or pull back his tank top so I could see his abs.

He also started leaving the bathroom door slightly open when he was in there.

One of his signature-moves remained the outrageous legs spreading anytime he was wearing his bathrobe.

The ultimate tease was to show me a glimpse or a part of his cock.

I was even lusting over a damn shadow now.

It was all quite subtle, but there were so many signs that he wanted to be freaky with me—or at least toy with me—that this could not have been solely in my head.

“Be careful, man. This seems a bit unhealthy. You could lose the roof over your head because of this.” Javier warned me.

“You're probably right, but to be fair, I'm not doing anything, and it's just little things on his part. It's not like we're fucking or anything.”

“But you wish you were.”

“Uh… No.”

Javier laughed.

“Come on! It’s so obvious.”

“I wouldn’t do it… I mean, I don’t think so…”

“Yes, exactly! You wouldn’t. You can't think about stuff like that. The dude is married. I bet he’s just having fun getting you riled up and there's nothing more to it, but—”

“Then it's fine. It's no big deal.”

“Let me finish. But… What if someday he wants to take things further?”

“Then I'll put a stop to it. I won't break up a marriage. I know what I owe Grace and her mom.”

He looked at me as if to say that he did not believe me at all.

To be honest, I was not convincing myself either.

I could not resist any little crumb the man gave me. Were he to offer, I could not resist taking the whole loaf of bread for very long..

Especially since that bread seemed so thick and tasty.

In all fairness, I was not that weak; Christian was just that insanely hot.

Four days after he returned, I came home to find him mowing the lawn.

Jesus Christ, he had pulled out the big guns for this one.

He was a vision from heaven.

He was shirtless with bulging muscles all around, his traps, pecs, and biceps looking bigger and more impressive than ever.

He was also greasy with sweat, looking deliciously shiny under the sun.

Maybe I was imagining things, but I would not put it past him to have staged this whole thing just to be in that exact position, in this exact outfit, with the perfect amount of sweat, when I walked back to the house.

If this was planned, it was definitely a success.

It was as if he had stepped out of one of my wet dreams. Speaking of which, I had that exact same dream a couple days prior.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead and stopped the lawnmower to greet me.

“Good day at school?”

I was a student in a prestigious university and he treated me as if I was coming home from middle school.

“It's Friday. I finished early. Always a good day, sir.”

Grace had quickly asked me to call her by her first name, but Christian had never made such a request, so I continued calling him either "sir" or "Mr. Holmes."

“No party tonight?”

“No, I have to study all weekend.”

“If you aren't a dork… well, you better pass your exams and make us proud, kiddo.”

“I’m trying my best.”

“That being said, I suppose it's a good thing you're not letting yourself get distracted by boys.”

“Boys? No, I prefer men.”

Sometimes, I liked to say a few provocative things. I could be flirty too.

“Hm, I know you do.”

There was a silence during which I wondered if he was about to make a move.

Since nothing happened, I simply asked him: “Do you need help with the lawn?”

“I've got it covered, but I'll call you when I think of something to do. Grace isn't home, so you might come in handy.”

He only had to say things like that, and I was picturing myself on my knees sucking his fat dick or licking his balls.

“Sure. I'll be here. It's not like I have anything planned for the rest of the day.”

He smiled at me and started the lawnmower.

I walked into the house, giddy for no apparent reason.

I think it was the first time I was alone in the house with Christian; this got me flustered.

I was sort of mad at him for staying outside while we could have been having fun. If he wanted to be more daring, this was the perfect opportunity!

I could not even watch him from my room because the window faced the backyard and pool while he was mowing the front lawn.

Damn it!

It was probably better this way, though.

Javier was right; nothing good could come of this.

I would stay put. I would be a good boy!

Right?

Well…

What if he tempted me a little too hard?

About twenty minutes later, I heard someone whistling from downstairs.

Was he really calling me out like a dog? Was I really about to come out of my room upon hearing that?

Yes, he was.

And yes, I was.

Christian was standing by the door, wetter than ever—even his mustache was pearling sweat.

“Hey, would you be kind enough to do something for me?” He asked.

“Sure. I've told you, anything.”

“I'm done mowing. I'm going to put the lawnmower in the garage. Would you prepare a hot bath for me? I'll be up in a few minutes; I’d like to dive in and relax in a warm bath.”

“Uh, sure, I can run the water and prepare it.”

“You're a good boy.”

See… I was a good boy. According to Christian.

He closed the door and went back outside.

I reasoned with myself. Preparing a bath was not too difficult, and there was nothing weird about that.

It was just a simple task.

I immediately went to the bathroom, kneeling down next to the bathtub to turn on the water. I made sure the running water was at the ideal temperature. Very warm but not boiling.

I added some soap and wondered if he wanted Epsom salts or essential oils like Grace used.

The mere thought that he would be naked right in there in a few minutes put me in the mood, but no one could blame me for these thoughts.

Besides, unlike my housemates, I was not pretending to be a Christian or to be living by any high moral standard.

I was just a British guy lost in the States, who happened to share a roof with the sexiest man on Earth.

The bath was ready quickly, and I was about to stand up and leave when I realized I was no longer alone in the room.

He was watching me.

I slowly turned my head, and there he was, towering over me in his khaki pants, shirtless and sweaty, looking manly as ever.

Christian licked his lips.

“Thank you, Harry.”

He yawned and lifted his arms in the air. After such a physical labor, his armpits were a hairy wet bush I was dying to dive into.

“You're… You’re very welcome.” I muttered.

“It’s normally not so hot this close to November… The Dems might be onto something with this global warming after all.”

He lifted his left leg to remove his dirty gray sock.

He threw it on the floor, right next to me.

I could have died; he was so hot.

“I… I should leave you to it."

He was blocking the door with his broad shoulders.

I was trapped.

At least, I like to tell myself that I was trapped, which is why I did not leave as he continued his striptease.

He removed his right sock, then started unbuckling his belt.

I held my breath.

I was still on my knees. I could have stood up, but I was mesmerized by the motions of his hands and unable to move.

It was like a slow-motion reveal.

Part of it was my hyperactive mind making the situation more intense than it was, but part of it was also that Christian was purposely taking his sweet time undressing.

Once he finished with his belt, he threw it in my direction, almost hitting me with it. He wiped the sweat sliding between his meaty pecs.

Good Lord, you have to love a man who works outside and who is not afraid to get dirty!

“You should turn off the water. It's about to spill.” He casually noticed.

“Oh, shit! Sorry!”

I quickly turned off the tap and returned my attention to the muscle-god taking off his clothes in front of me.

He unbuttoned his khaki pants and slid down the zipper, revealing another pair of tighty-whities underneath.

I swallowed hard.

I had never been this close to the beast, and thankfully Grace was not home. Everything felt possible.

Ever so slowly and sensually, he pulled down his pants. The bulge in his underwear poked out and bounced.

I wished I could have photographed it; this was definitely high art I was witnessing.

I felt privileged to be front row for this exclusive strip show.

“Help?” he said, his pants halfway off and stuck at his knees.

“Sure.”

He extended his right leg so I could pull off his pants.

Then we did the same with his left leg.

I was undressing him. Getting him so close to being entirely naked.

It was so damn hot in this bathroom.

“Thanks.”

“You… You need anything else?”

I thought, Please, let me take off your underwear, too.

I wish he would let me take a sniff while he was still wearing the briefs, and even more so, at the bare cock underneath! After all, he had been teasing me with his soiled undies for days.

“No. You’ve done enough, Harry.”

Shoot.

He turned me down.

There were only crumbs; I would not get anything more. Probably ever.

Still, he was here, right in front of me, barely dressed, and he did not ask me to leave. Not just yet.

He let me stare at his bulge for a while, and then he put his fingers in the waistband of his tighty-whities.

My heart skipped a bit.

I must have been drooling on the floor tiles.

By this point, Christian was barely looking at me, acting as if I were not even in the room.

And then, the miracle happened.

Praise Jesus and praise the Lord!

In one swift, decisive move, he slid down his underwear, and his flaccid but heavy cock sprang free.

Uncut, veiny, long… and so beautifully girthy!

Like a pendulum, it swung in front of me.

It was the definition of the perfect dick, complete with a bush of dark pubic hair on top and massive, low-hanging balls beneath it.

“Ah.” I gasped in a high-pitched voice.

It was as if Christian had suddenly remembered I was there.

He let the underwear slide through his gigantic feet, throwing the fabric right up my face this time.

I felt blessed to be hit with his glory.

“At least you won't have to look for your present today, eh, you little freak?”

“Thank you.” I mumbled, holding the pair of dirty briefs close to my nose.

It was all I could say.

“You should put these with the rest of my dirty clothes in the laundry basket. That chore should be right up your alley. Right?”

“Right.”

“Then, what are you waiting for?”

I stood up, literally shaking.

I did not want to go. His dangling cock was waiting for me.

“I'll do it right now.”

“Yes, chop-chop. You're not going to stare at my big, fat cock all day, are you?”