Originally published in the January 2008 issue of Torso magazine.

Roommate Service By Bacteriaburger

The roommate situation was this: I was desperate for someone to pick up half the rent, so I chose the first guy who responded to my ad.

His name was Peter and he worked in a warehouse near my end of town. He was 27 and pretty good looking -- part Latino, big sensuous lips, stubbly face and a muscled body that was slightly thick around the middle. He wore a gold chain over his white t-shirt.

We got along okay the first week and then gradually he began to take over the place. It started with things like putting his posters on the wall and watching ESPN all the time. It progressed to him lying around on the couch all day while dishes piled up on the coffee table and the bathroom got unforgivably dirty.

As much as I resented his laziness, I couldn't help but lust after this hot guy. I lived for the times when he came home from work all sweaty, leaving his bedroom door open a crack so I could sneak a peak while he stripped off his work clothes. He'd come out in a pair of mesh shorts and a tight t-shirt and I'd watch the firm mounds of his ass as he strode down the hall.

After a month of essentially being his cleaning boy, I decided to confront him about it. He was planted on the couch in his usual position, drinking beer and watching the tube. I sat across from him -- he grunted hello but otherwise took no notice of me.

"We need to talk," I said.

"About what?"

"You're not pulling your weight around here."

"Whatever, bro. Don't be so uptight."

"Uptight? I've done your dishes for the past three weeks! You leave all of your shit lying around and I have to pick it up."

"So what?" he said, and turned back to the TV. I was speechless and incredibly pissed, but it didn't stop me from noticing the outline of his cock and how it lay along his thick, hairy thigh.

I'm not sure if he noticed me looking, but his hand went down to his crotch and he started massaging his dick. He was looking right at me.

"Let me ask you a question," he said. "Do you think you're pulling your weight around here?"

"W-what do you mean?" Peter rubbed his palm along his shaft. It was obviously thicker.

"I mean, I could use someone to take care of my needs. You know what I'm saying?" I kept staring, he kept fondling and watching me stare at him. Then, slowly, he pulled down the waistband of his shorts. Out popped a fat, hairy dick which was just as big and horny as I'd imagined it to be. It pulsed, bobbed and throbbed against his stomach.

Now, being that I'm a pretty well-built and handsome guy, I'd brought home my fair share of tricks in the time since Peter had moved in. I assumed he knew I was gay, but I never thought he was anything less than straight. And even if he wasn't 100% hetero, it was fast becoming obvious that he was at least a little bit freaky.

An eternity passed as I stared at his handsome pole, which jerked with his pulse and seemed to beckon me closer. Peter took off his shorts completely, releasing his heavy, sagging nuts, and sat upright.

"Get the fuck over here," he said. "You know you want to."

In a daze, I knelt down before him. Peter looked down at me, a slight but satisfied smile on his face. Reaching forward, I went to take his cock in my hand, but Peter pushed my hand away.

"Just your mouth," he said. I started by going down on his balls, lapping up each heavy orb before taking his whole sac into my mouth. Peter spread his legs and laid back, letting out his breath. "That's right, eat my fuckin balls."

The scent of masculine sweat rose off of him. I ran my tongue up his salty shaft and wrapped my lips around the plump head of his pecker. Peter moaned. He put his hand on the back of my head, firmly pushing my face down on his dick. More of his cock slid past my lips until my nose was nestled in his damp pubes. I contracted my throat around it, feeling it pulse and harden.

I bobbed my head up and down on his dick, taking in the deep, pungent smells emanating from his crotch. Peter kept his hand on my head, urging me along as I chugged his cock in and out of my mouth. He was as hard as can be, and my own dick was in the same state. I took it out and stroked myself while I blew him.

I don't know how long I sucked on that dick, but it felt like hours. Peter just laid back and watched me go to town; he didn't seem to be in any hurry to cum, and I was in no hurry to finish. Peter had finally demanded the kind of servicing that I could really enjoy.

I lapped up under his balls and licked down his taint. Peter gasped, raising his ass slightly to give me better access. I lifted his heavy legs, bringing his knees to his chest and exposing his hairy butthole. I touched my tongue to it and it squinched up uncontrollably. Peter's breathing got fast and shallow.

I ran my tongue around the perimeter of his hole, darting in closer and closer to the soft, slick skin that puckered around his anus. I licked up the sweat along his crack, my tongue brushing past his butthole. It tasted great, musky and sweet, a real working man's ass.

I ate him out properly, slathering my tongue against his hot asshole and spearing it in when he relaxed it. Peter moaned earnestly, his whole body quivering, his rock-hard cock still pulsing against his stomach.

I alternated between lapping at his ass and swallowing his dick. Peter was beside himself, he seemed like he was in awe of how good I could make him feel. It gave me a weird sense of power of him, even though I'd clearly given him control of the situation.

When I let up to catch my breath, Peter looked down at my raging hard-on. He took his own dick in his hand and stroked it slowly.

"I wanna fuck your ass now," he said, standing up from the couch. His dick lolled out in front of him. "You want this big cock inside you?"

I answered by getting up on the couch and spreading my ass for him. There was nothing I wanted more right then than to get fucked by this guy. My ass was hungry for his dick.

Peter put his hands on my smooth cheeks and spread them apart. I've got a nice butt -- it might be my best asset - and I could tell Peter was getting off on my smooth, pink hole by the way he licked his finger and rubbed it into me.

Peter lined his hips up with mine and pressed his cock head against my hole, mashing it around and getting it slick with his pre-come.

He took his spit-slicked finger and slid it inside me, opening my ass wide. I gasped, but I quickly got used to the feeling. Peter was relentless, his finger pumped in and out of my hungry ass with no mercy. I sensed I'd better get myself ready for a rough fuck. My roommate wanted to use my ass to get off, and to him, my pleasure was secondary.

He must have slicked up his dick pretty well because I was surprised at how easily he entered me. I yelled out from the shock of it but Peter never let up. He just kept feeding me that fat cock until his hips were pressed against mine, the full length of his cock buried inside. Then he drew back out and began to fuck, riding in and out of me like I was a blow-up doll or something. I was loving it, and I bucked back to meet his rude, insistent humping.

Peter spanked my ass as his balls slapped my balls rhythmically. "Nice, tight ass," he grunted, solely focused on the feelings my ass was giving to his prick. He just held on to it and fucked away, working me over while my own unattended hard-on whapped against my stomach with each thrust.

This was what I had wanted all along, I realized. To be used by him. All that anger was being channeled into pure lust. I imagined the scenarios in which I wanted to put him -- to have him sit on my face while he watched TV; to have him bend me over the sink and fuck me while I did his dishes. Anything, so long as he kept feeding me that beautiful dick.

He sat on the couch and pulled me on top of him, and I rode him like a horse on a carousel. He literally held me in his hands, bouncing me up and down on his dick while he looked me in the eyes. A look came into his eyes that I'd never seen before. He brought his handsome face closer to mine and enthusiastically kissed me, our tongues writhing against each other, our energies intensifying and intermingling.

I think it had gotten deeper than either of us had realized, and Peter snapped back into reality like he'd just realized what he was doing. He smiled at me, then lifted me up and tossed me back on to the couch. He threw my legs over his shoulders and rammed his cock right back inside.

He fucked me intensely, going faster and harder, and from his breathing I could tell he was getting close.

"I'm gonna blow in you baby," he growled. I pushed back to let him know that's what I wanted.

With a final loud grunt, he shoved his rod all the way inside of me and started to unload. His guttural moans filled the room as he blew his jizz into me, his rod pulsing with each hot shot.

When he was done he pulled out and collapsed back on the couch.

"You gotta towel?" he said. Before I could answer, I looked down and realized I had lost my load all over my stomach. I hadn't realized it, I hadn't even been touching myself.

"Let me get one," I answered, and I proceeded to clean his dick, and my stomach, in that order.

From then on it became clear that my new job as Peter's roommate was to take care of his dick whenever he wanted, which was usually every day after he came home from work. So that is the new roommate situation. I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me sometimes.

I'll come home to a mess of an apartment and loads of come-covered laundry to do, and I swear I'll never do it again. But then Peter comes home with a sheen of sweat covering his body and a look in his eye that says he plans on fucking me all night. By one AM I've got two of his loads in my stomach, Peter's pushing me against the wall getting ready to give me a third, and all of the animosity I held toward him is long, long forgotten.

I mean, can you really blame me?

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