++++++No kids allowed. That means if you are under 18, no go.
"Come on Roomy, jus' give it a little rub."
That was Joe, my disreputable, unwashed, low morals roommate calling huskily from his bed across the room. You couldn't help seeing that he had his hairy cock out and was stroking. This was not an unusual sight. He wanked every night. I think, he thought, it was done for his health.
How did I, Billy. a Christian kid of nineteen, studying comparative religion at Hofstra, get into this situation? It stemming from an ad on the school bulletin board.?"
Friendly soph needs roommate to share room in private
Home. $200 month. Kitchenette in alcove, call Joe at xxxxxxx
I left out the cell phone number to protect Joe, although he doesn't need my help.
I met Joe at the house. It turned out that Joe, himself, owned the house, or at least his family. He was renting out all the five bedrooms. He was sitting on the front porch, his bare feet up on the railing, smoking a pipe. Because of his scruffy appearance and careless clothes, I wondered what was in the pipe. Being a boy trying to avoid the pitfalls of modern life, life sex before marriage, drugs and booze, I wondered if this house and my roommate would prove a risky adventure.
Boy oh boy that proved to be a real understatement.
"Fuck, you sure are a neat dude."
He was referring to the fact that I get regular haircuts and wear clean pants and shirts. I also shave the little light growth every day. Not so Joe who shaved when he felt itchy.
He put a brotherly arm on my shoulders and led me upstairs. The way he was holding me, I was forced to smell his intimate underarm odor. It was not unpleasant. It made me slightly dizzy. The room at the top was the former master bedroom. It was large, maybe 20' by 30'. There was a dressing alcove with two walk-in closets. Just outside the room was a small kitchenette, fully appointed. I guess the former owners got hungry at night and had this luxury built in. I was fast falling in love with this place.
I moved in that afternoon. The front door was open. I staggered upstairs with my stuff and entered my new quarters. On one of the beds, Joe was sprawled asleep, naked. Hey, I thought, he's really built. Yeah, muscles were impressive under the hair on his chest, but "built" also included his large penis lying against one hip.
I tiptoed out and sat on the porch waiting until he woke up. I mused about Joe. He was certainly brazen. Did he put on an act to, well, entice me by pretending to be asleep, and nude too? It was almost as if he sized me up and felt that I could "be had."
Could I?
I have never had sex with man, woman or beast...or with myself, hardly. I fought the temptation of masturbating with all the willpower I possessed. I usually was able to control my urges, but I sure had vivid wet dreams.
Besides the contrast in personal habits, there were a sharp differences in our purchasing power. Joe's classic yellow Corvette was parked in the driveway. I already knew he owned the house, or at least his folks bought it for him. In the coming days, I was to see that he drank the most expensive imported beer and organized cookouts for the house occupants that included prime steaks cooked on the outdoor barbeque by hired chefs. I had to practically subsist on peanut butter and crackers. I walked the mile and a half to school. I had two jobs there, one in the bookstore and the other at the cafeteria. Most of money I earned went to pay for my half of the room rent.
Joe came out on the porch. "I guess you want to unpack. The room's all yours."
It was getting dark by the time I got everything stowed away. I heard dishes rattling and the sounds of my housemates conversation over dinner. I poured myself a glass of water and ate my crackers and peanut butter feeling real sorry for myself.
That night I turned in about nine. Joe came in about an hour later. He was noisy. I think he was drunk. I peaked through one slightly open eye and he saw him through off his clothes, on the floor actually, and fall like a dead whale onto his bed. Immediately he began rubbing his crotch and soon he had a cock periscope looming up from his luxurious public hair. He rubbed up and down the shaft, beginning to breath heavily. Suddenly he spoke out loud. "Hey sweet Billy. I see you looking at the big one. I bet you would love to get your hands around him. I would like that. I know it would feel real good. Come on, don't be shy."
I ignored him and continued to pretend I was asleep. Suddenly he stopped and sat up. "Billy, I really need it. I would pay you to stroke me."
To my everlasting shame I lifted my head. "Like how much?"
He laughed in triumph. "So you are a cock hound. I thought so. The question was how much? What say twenty bucks, and it'll be our secret?"
Now you may think I was a cheap whore, but twenty bucks was exactly what I'd earn in one day at those shitty jobs. "Okay, let's get it over with."
"First you gotta come over here and sit on my bed. You can't do it from over there." He reached down and took out a bill from his pants pocket and spread it out on his hairy muscular six pack belly."
I stood up. I was wearing only my under shorts. "Nice chest," he said admiringly. "I didn't think you was such a handsome dude. Now warm up your hands 'tween you legs and get with it."
He bed sagged as I sat down on the edge. His cock was slowly rising like a magic trick. The head began to slide out of its handy cover, red, moist and a small drop of pre cum shimmered at the piss slit. I studied his face It had lost that confident smirky look and was now very serious. I bit of his tongue was protruding. His eyes were squinty. He looked very cute right now. That was, until he had to make a rude remark, "Okay ho for money, gay for pay boi, you are bought, I want my money's worth."
I was caught in this situation. There was no backing out. Did I want to back out? Perhaps not. I reached my index finger and rubbed his cock head, massaging that pearl drop around. He let out a gasp. "Oh shit, this is want I needed, a little love, a little attention."
That really nice approval wiped away all the restraints and doubts from my mind. I suddenly felt that I was born to make his cock happy. I curled my fingers around it's fat, warm shaft, feeling it expanding in my hand. Joe took a couple of hard intakes of breath. I took that as a compliment. I moved my hand softly, hardly grazing his cock, wiping my thumb over the head at the upswing. "Oh you shit head, you go me so going. You are my queer. Now grab tighter, move faster. I gotta cum soon or I'll go nuts."
I ignored his pleas. I had been reduced to a sex device, but I was going to be master of his fate, or his cum. I continued my soft stroking. He was beginning to writhe on the bed, his face screwed up into a mask of pain/pleasure. I would have laughed, only I was moaning myself. My own cock was as hard as I ever remembered it.
I began to drip heavily on my upper legs, and my cock was almost vibrating. I got the idea that we would cum together. I would pretend that we were actually having sex together. I tightened my hand. Just that motion caused his hips to rise and fall, trying to fuck my hand. Then I began to move my hand in a shagging motion. He was almost singing and moaning his whole body seeking relief.
"Please, please," he said in an almost little boy voice. "Help me."
I almost came from the thrill of hearing that plea. I took my hand away. He looked at me in alarm, but then he saw me licking my palm. I returned to his cock and made better contact. My vigorous wanking now brought him to the edge of orgasm. His eyes rolled upwards, his tongue lolled out completely and he howled out, "Here it cums."
His prick seemed to pull into itself and then extend longer than before. A heavy drop appeared as his pulsing piss slit, then a mighty stream followed, reaching to his chin, then another settling in his chest hair. Smaller streams followed. He was grunting and thrusting like a man possessed. Finally the storm of pleasure was over. I think he was embarrassed to realize that he had exposed himself so completely before me.
"Billy boy, that was worth twice as much. You are the wanker supreme."
He turned on his side and in a minute he was snoring softly. I got up, cleaned my own cum off my legs and fell asleep almost as quickly.
The next morning I awoke hating to open my eyes and get derision from him, but instead he greeted me with a big smile. "'Morning you hot dude. Get ready for more fun tonight."
As I was dressing, I heard him talking to our neighbors, Lee and Dave, then the roar of his Corvette as he gunned it out of the driveway.
End Part One "Lee? Could he be Asian? And Davy? Wait!