My Best Friend Showed Up Naked Too… - Naked Punishment Part 2

Tuesday

I didn’t expect him to actually show up naked.

But when I turned the corner into the courtyard and saw Tyler—walking bold as fuck with nothing but a pair of beat-up sneakers and that smug grin—I swear my heart skipped.

“Didn’t want you to be the only one with their junk out,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head like this was a beach day.

His dick bounced as he walked toward me. And I know it’s not polite or whatever to stare at your best friend’s cock, but… come on. It was right there. Uncut, thick, and casually hardening as the morning breeze hit him.

I laughed, trying to play it off. “You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah I did,” he said, nudging my shoulder. “Besides, it sounded kinda fun.”

Fun. Right.

It was fun until I had to walk beside him, matching pace, trying not to look down even though his dick was swaying right at thigh level, and mine was slowly starting to wake up.

We sat in Mr. Barlow’s ethics class. Small room, too many desks. The kind where you can’t even stretch your legs without bumping into someone. Naturally, Tyler sat next to me. Our desks pressed together like we were in middle school again.

“I forgot how cramped this room is,” Tyler whispered, his voice close to my ear. Then he adjusted his legs and boom—his knee brushed mine.

The heat from his skin shot right up my thigh.

I bit the inside of my cheek. Focus. I tried staring at the whiteboard, but his leg stayed there. Warm. Muscular. And it wasn’t just a quick brush either—it was a press. Like he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did and just didn’t care.

He leaned forward to grab a pencil he’d dropped, and that’s when it happened.

His dick swung low and smacked against my outer thigh.

I froze.

It was soft but heavy. Warm. I felt it drag slightly before he pulled back, completely unaware.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckled. “Did I—uh—? My bad, dude.”

“All good,” I said, my voice a little too high.

But it wasn’t all good. My dick was pulsing under the desk. I crossed my legs tight, trying to ease the tension. Tyler popped open a juice box and took a sip, then gestured as if to offer me some.

I shook my head. He shrugged, and then of course, the universe intervened.

He accidentally tipped the damn thing over—cool sticky juice pouring over my thigh, down to my dick.

“Fuck, Matt—shit, sorry! Lemme—wait, I got it.”

He grabbed a napkin from his bag and bent down between our desks. I thought he’d just dab it quick.

Nope.

He wiped my thigh. Carefully. Slowly.

Then lower.

I stopped breathing when he rubbed over my shaft.

It wasn’t fast or dirty. It was gentle. Clinical, even. But that made it worse. His fingers, separated only by a thin napkin, were stroking over my half-hard cock. My body betrayed me—my hips twitched, my breath caught, and for a second, I felt dangerously close to losing it.

“You’re gonna get hard,” Tyler whispered, grinning like it was a joke.

I didn’t answer.

Because I already was.

He finally pulled back, still chuckling, like it was all hilarious.

Except—I glanced down and saw it.

Tyler’s dick.

Hard.

Just for a second, before he shifted. He didn’t even look down. Didn’t say anything. But I saw it—rising up, thick and flushed, bobbing gently with every movement.

My whole brain short-circuited.

Class dragged. I couldn’t concentrate. My body was wired, hot, full of questions I didn’t know how to ask. Did he feel it too? Did he notice? Was he just hard because… biology? Or was this something else?

He never mentioned it.

He just laughed, made a dumb joke about how freeing it felt to let it all hang out, and walked with me to our next class like nothing happened.

But that night?

I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

I lay in bed, hand around my dick, replaying the scene over and over. The way he touched me. The heat of his skin. The way his cock looked, stiff and beautiful, and how he didn’t even flinch.

I stroked myself slow, imagining him doing it instead—his fingers wrapped around me, careless but hungry.

I bit my lip, arched into my own palm, and came harder than I had in weeks.

Tyler’s name spilled from my mouth like a secret.

And I knew this week was only going to get harder.

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PART 3 Preview

My dick twitched every time he leaned too close.

It wasn’t helping that I was starting to notice everything—the way he scratched his inner thigh during math, the way he stretched in his seat, arms behind his head, chest tight, cock resting heavy against his thigh.

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