Freshman year of college taught me many new and surprising things. One of them was that I was destined to become addicted to cocksucking. I had never even thought of it before.
My roommate, Michael, was a tall, good looking jock with a friendly, genial air, and we quickly became friends. Early on, we became accustomed to seeing each other naked. It took some getting used to for me because I was an only child, and nudity was something that never happened in my house except in the bathroom. Michael had grown up with three brothers and thought nothing of walking around naked in front of another guy. It was his very relaxed attitude about it that helped me get over my initial reservations. After a couple of weeks, it never occurred me to think about it anymore.
As usually happens with roommates, we became aware that we both jerked off a lot - but usually under the covers after the lights were out for the night. Once, when a class of his was cancelled, he came back to the room unexpectedly and caught me masturbating in my desk chair while looking at porn. I tried to cover up as fast as I could but he said, "Hey, relax. It's totally fine. I jerk off all the time, and I know you do too. There's nothing to be shy about." I knew he was right, but somehow I couldn't resume what I was doing with him still there in the room with me. But I did begin feeling less nervous about being caught with my pants around my ankles.
One Thursday night that fall there was an early snowstorm that dumped nearly two feet of snow on the campus, and all classes were cancelled. All day Friday there was nothing to do and nowhere to do. Fortunately, the dining hall was on the first floor of our dorm so we didn't have to worry about going hungry. We slept late, and then wandered down to lunch together. When we got back to the room after lunch Michael broke out a couple of fat joints and we proceeded to get wasted. The room was usually overheated and we had no way to adjust the temperature, and on this day it was even hotter than usual. So little by little we shed clothes until we were sitting around in our underwear.
"You know what I really feel like doing right now?" Michael said.
"What?" I answered.
"I feel like watching porn and jerking off." I must have raised my eyebrows, and then he lit up the second joint and said, "I'm going to do it. You can ignore me, or watch me, or join me. I'm so horny I just don't care." And with that, he connected his laptop to our big TV, found some promising looking porn online, and sat back on the couch. He looked at me and said, "Well?" I shrugged and sat down next to him. Within minutes we were both stroking the growing bulges in our briefs.
Having seen him naked so many times it came as no surprise that he was bigger than me. I am pretty well equipped in that department, but Michael is seriously hung. When totally soft his dick looked to be almost as big as I am when hard. And that big fat sausage hung down over a pair of heavy low hangers the size of golf balls. What I never knew before was how much bigger he got when he was hard. Now I caught myself glancing at the thick hunk of meat that strained against the fabric of his underwear, stretching way across his hip, with a big mushroom head creating a very prominent ridge near the end of this monster. I didn't realize I was staring at it openly until he caught my eye and said, "Big, isn't it?"
"Oh, jeez," I said, "sorry. I didn't mean to stare."
"I don't mind," he said. "I like being looked at." I guess he had gotten used to being noticed - he had a handsome face and a beautiful, well-muscled body with great definition.
Next thing I knew, he slipped off his briefs and started playing with his dick, and his big, low-hanging balls. I glanced up at the screen and then back down at him. "The porn stars aren't as big as you," I said.
We resumed watching the video and pretty soon we were both naked. "Not so bad there yourself,' he said, glancing down at my equipment. I looked at his again, and then back to mine, and realized that he was right. He was bigger for sure, but I was far from small. I felt a small wave of pride sweep over me as I looked back and forth, comparing.
After several more minutes of silently watching the video and jacking our dicks Michael glanced over at me and noticed the direction of my gaze. "Looks like you're paying more attention to watching me than watching the vid." I started to deny it, but then he said, "It's cool man. I really get off on being watched." So I relaxed a little more and watched him openly as I stroked my meat.
"Want to touch it?" he asked. I was shocked. It had never occurred to me to do such a thing. But I was even more shocked to realize that I sort of did want to see what his felt like. No doubt the weed had lowered my inhibitions, and before I could stop myself I said, "Yeah, maybe." But I didn't make any move in that direction.
Michael jerked his head to one side in a gesture that meant, Get over here. So I moved a little closer to him, then reached out and wrapped my hand around his big dick. It was hot to the touch. "Go on, stroke it a little," he said. So I did. Before I knew it I had become engrossed in its warmth, and the silky feel of the skin, and how rock-hard solid it felt, though also slightly spongy, and I didn't want to let go of it. Michael put both of his hands behind his head and let me explore.
"Why don't you get down between my legs so you can see it up close," he said. And without thinking I found myself kneeling between his muscular thighs, fondling his package with both hands - stroking his amazing cock and fondling his heavy nuts. I was totally fascinated, and didn't even think of stopping.
"Taste it, why don't you," he said.
"Oh no," I said. I couldn't ever do that."
"Why not?" he asked. "Just a little. Just to see what it's like. Purely in the name of science, mind you."
Well, I was becoming a little curious. And I was still stoned out of my gourd. Why not, indeed, I thought. Purely in the name of science. So I reached out with my tongue and gave the shaft a little lick. Michael moaned. So I did it again, for a little longer this time.
"Go on," he said. "Put it in your mouth. Just for a minute." I don't know why my natural resistance didn't kick in, but I really was curious now to see what it felt like. So I opened my mouth wide and wrapped my lips around just the head. He moaned louder. "More," he said. "Take more of it."
There was something really fascinating about the way the spongy warm mushroom head felt inside my mouth. I ran my tongue around the ridge, then up the frenulum to his piss slit, which deposited a big drop of precum on my tongue. I was surprised to find it tasted good. Sweet and syrupy. This is not so bad, I thought.
"Please," he said. "I'm dying. Take more of it. Just another inch."
Why did I listen? Probably, I realize now, all these months later, it was because I wanted to. I slid my lips a little farther down his shaft. There was definitely something I liked about this. I inched down a little farther, then a little farther still. Before I knew what I was doing my mouth was completely full of cock. Warm, thick, pulsating cock. I savored the way it tasted, the way it felt against my tongue and the roof of my mouth, and the way my lips felt wrapped around it. Then I began to suck on it, like a calf nursing on its mother, getting sustenance from the swollen teat. I sucked harder. Soon I was lost in the sensation of nursing on Michael's wonderful cock - it was a small revelation to realize that I had actually begun thinking of it that way. It really was a wonderful cock, and I felt almost grateful for being able to enjoy it like this. Michael was emitting a string of little moans, and I soon realized that I was enjoying the ability to make him moan like that.
Next, I pulled back slightly, keeping my lips wrapped around the big warm shaft, and then slid back down again. Michael moaned louder.
"Christ that feels good," he said. Please don't stop."
I had no intention of stopping. My attention had become completely centered on the cock in my mouth, and on how good it was. I continued sucking, nursing on it really, and, to my amazement, loving every minute of it. I tried moving my head up and down a little more and Michael moaned still louder, and said, "Oh yeah Dean, just like that. Just like that. Oh man, it feels so good. Don't stop. Please don't stop."
I hadn't yet begun to think about the consequences of what I was doing, but Michael was moaning and bucking his hips and saying, "Oh yeah man. That's it buddy. Keep going. Just like that. Just like that." I could feel his breathing becoming heavier, and could sense the growing urgency in his movements, and I began to realize that if I kept doing what I was doing, I would soon have another new experience. And then I realized that I wanted it. I wanted to feel him shooting in my mouth. I wanted to taste his cum. I wanted to know what that was like. I sped up my motions, and his moaning increased.
Soon he said, "Oh man, you're going to make me cum. You'd better pull off. I'm close. I'm really close."
But I didn't want to pull off. I wanted it. I was excited by the idea that soon my hot roommate would be pumping his load into my mouth because of what I was doing to him, that I was making him cum, bringing him to the brink of an orgasm, and then over the edge to the point of no return. I wanted it. No other thought occupied my mind. All I knew was that I wanted to make him cum, and I wanted it in my mouth.
"Oh man," he said, if you don't stop I'm going to shoot. If you don't want it in your mouth you better pull off right now because . . ."
I kept pumping up and down. There was no way I was stopping now. I had come this far and I wanted the whole experience. My excitement had been building by the second, almost matching his. All I could think about was how much I wanted to make him cum. I was breathing hard myself now. I was totally excited, and I wanted it. I wanted it now. And before he could finish his sentence I heard his gasp, and then say, "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh." And then my mouth was flooded with his thick warm semen. I could feel it squirting onto my tongue, over and over and over. I loved it. Somehow, it seemed like the most exciting, most satisfying thing that had ever happened to me. Spurt after spurt, he kept cumming and cumming. I had to swallow repeatedly to keep my mouth from overflowing, and I knew I didn't want to lose a drop.
Soon it was over. Michael flopped back on the couch, saying, "Oh my god, that was the best orgasm I've ever had." I could see his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. I licked the last drops of his load from his piss slit and then pulled back. I was now aware of my own cock again, huge, red, and throbbing, though I had hardly touched it. I reached down and gave it a few strokes and it exploded, soaking my chest and stomach, with one big gob landing on my face. I stretched out my tongue to capture as much of it as I could.
The next several minutes passed in stunned silence. Neither of us could speak. After a while we slowly came back down to earth. Michael looked at me with an inquisitive expression, studying my face, trying to read my thoughts. "You know something," he said, "I almost think you enjoyed that as much as I did."
Was he right? I closed my eyes and thought about that. Then I opened them and looked at him. "You know something Michael," I said, "I think I did. I think I loved it."
With rapt attention, I was watching his big cock slowly deflate, going from straight upright to flopping over against his hip, and then finally hanging down over his big nuts again. Completely fascinating. I just kept staring. And thinking. I really had loved it. Did that make me gay? Probably, I thought. And, strangely, the thought didn't bother me. I had just had an awakening. I had given my first blow job. I had done it well - or at least well enough to produce the desired result. And I wanted more.
Michael picked up the half-finished joint from the ashtray and lit it up. He inhaled deeply and handed it to me. We passed it back and forth in silence until it was finished and we were flying again. We hadn't moved since I finished blowing him, since he shot in my mouth like a fire hose, since I had cum all over myself. And I realized that I was still sitting on the floor between his legs, resting my head against his thigh. Then, without thinking, I pressed my face into his crotch, burying my face against his big soft cock and low-hanging balls, like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. I inhaled deeply, intoxicated by the scent. I rubbed my face back and forth, enjoying the sensation of his warm package against my skin.
Looking up I said, "Could we do that again sometime?"
"Oh my god," he said. "We can do that whenever you want. It was totally amazing. You are the best roommate ever." I smiled. Amazingly, we both seemed completely comfortable with the whole idea. "Like, when were you thinking?" he said with a slight leer.
I looked at him, then looked down at his cock again. It seemed a little bigger than it had just a moment ago. It gave a little lurch, and grew a little more. "How about right now?" I said.
Part Two
A week passed. Then two. And during those two weeks I must have sucked Michael off at least twenty times. Overnight I had become a total cock addict. And it all seemed completely natural and comfortable. We didn't talk about it much. Sometimes our eyes would meet, and one of us would glance down towards his crotch, the message clear, and without a word I would be on my knees. Sometimes, sitting together on the couch playing video games, I would become aware of his thigh pressing against mine, and, putting down the controller, I would lay my hand on his leg and it move upwards until I felt that big fat snake, lengthening down the leg of his jeans. Sometimes, when we had both been studying for a while, he would look up from his books and say straight out, "Can you take a break? I could really use another blow job right about now." I never said no.
"Do you think this means I'm gay?" I asked him one Saturday afternoon after sucking him off, the taste of his sweet cum still on my lips.
"Well the evidence does kind of suggest," he said. "What do you think? You know I would be totally cool with it, as long as you were happy and felt good about yourself."
"I wonder," I said.
"Let me ask you this," he continued. "What do you think about when you jerk off?"
"Cock," I said without hesitating. "Licking and sucking big hard cocks and making them cum in my mouth."
"I think you just answered your own question," he said. And he was right. There was no denying it. I had dated girls, and had even had sex with a few, but without much excitement. But when I had Michael's cock in my mouth I was totally turned on.
"You sure you don't feel weird about having a gay roommate?"
"Are you fucking kidding me? I feel like I hit the roommate jackpot. How many guys are lucky enough to have a roommate who loves sucking dick? And who is a great guy, to boot."
Right in the middle of Michael saying that there was a quick knock and our door swung open. Evan, one of the guys across the hall, had chosen that moment to drop by and see if we wanted to hang out. I didn't really know Evan all that well yet - it was still fairly early in the semester - but he seemed like a good guy, and he was very handsome, with sandy hair and blue eyes, and a killer body from being a competitive rower.
"What?!!" he said. "What did you just say?"
"You mean the part about Dean being a great guy?" Michael said.
"No, before that asshole. The part about sucking dick." Then he turned to me and said, "Is that true?"
There was no point in denying it. And, in fact, I found I didn't mind him knowing at all. "Yes," I said. "Over the last couple of weeks I began to realize that I'm gay, and that I really like giving head. I like it a lot."
"Fuck," Evan said. "You mean you've actually sucked Michael off?"
"Only about twenty times," I said. "I only just figured this out."
"Is he any good?" Evan asked, turning to Michael.
"The best," he said. "I've had more great blow jobs in the last two weeks than I've had in my whole life."
Strangely enough, hearing this sent a little wave of pride through my mind.
"Would he do me?"
"Why are you asking me?" said Michael.
With that, Evan turned to me and said, "Well?"
"Sure, why not," I said. "It's probably about time I tried someone else's dick on for size."
"What about this size?" Evan said, pulling down his zipper and hauling out a truly enormous cock. "You think this would work for you?"
"Christ," said Michael. "You're even bigger than me."
"Oh yeah?" said Evan. "You hung, too? Let's have a look. I'm starting to feel strange being the only one with his dick out."
Michael, who had spent the day lounging around in his bathrobe just untied the belt and let the robe fall open. Once Evan had a look Michael closed his robe again.
"Not bad," Evan said. "Not bad at all. Not as big as me, but close, dude. Not many guys are."
"So what's that monster look like hard?" I asked.
"Come over here and make it hard and you'll find out," he said.
I looked over at Michael and he just kind of shrugged. So I walked over to Evan, dropped to my knees, and took his dick in my mouth. Soon he was rock hard and leaking precum. I backed off to take a good look.
"You know something?" I said. "When you're hard you are both exactly the same size."
That wasn't quite true. While they were both very close to the same length, I'm guessing around nine inches or so, Evan's was thicker. It was massive. Sucking it was a workout. I could feel that my lips, wrapped around this fat cock, were noticeably farther apart than they were when I was blowing Michael. I loved the way that felt.
The other difference between the two cocks was that, unlike Michael's big mushroom head, Evan's cock tapered to a head that was narrower than the rest of the shaft. While I sort of missed the sensation of running my tongue around Michael's corona, Evan's tapered glans made it easier to let it slip into my throat. Just in the last few days I had discovered how to take Michael deep into my throat without gagging, though not without difficulty. This new cock, with its tapered head, seemed to just slide right down into my esophagus like it belonged there. Soon I became aware of Evan's moaning.
"Holy fuck! That is amazing," he said. I felt a little shiver of pleasure at his words. But then I wasn't sure I liked what came next.
"Oh yeah, take that cock you faggot cocksucker. Take it down your pussy throat, fag. Oh, yeah, suck that fucking cock you little slut. Come on Mary, make me cum. Be my little cocksucking bitch, you faggot whore."
Then, after only a few minutes of this, he began spurting down my throat, grunting and moaning, and saying stuff like, "Faggot, slut, cocksucker," As soon as he finished I pulled off. I had enjoyed sucking Evan's big cock and swallowing his cum. But I wasn't so certain I liked all the verbal abuse. Then he continued.
"Holy shit, Michael, you lucky fuck. How fucking convenient to have a faggot cock slave for a roommate. Your own private cum dump. I'm jealous. The little whore is good, too. I don't know how he can live with himself, but he can definitely suck cock."
Something clicked in my head as he said this. I didn't like what Evan had been saying, but in that moment I came to understand myself more clearly than ever before, and I liked how I felt - confident and self-possessed.
"Hang on a second Evan," I said. I just did something really nice for you and you called me names. I don't like that. Over the last couple of weeks I've figured out that I am gay, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that. I feel good about it. And I discovered that I really, really like sucking cock, and, apparently, I'm pretty good at it. I'm kind of proud of that. I've been sucking Michael off every day and he hasn't changed the way he acts towards me at all. If anything, we've become better friends. The cocksucking is pleasurable for both of us, and he treats me with respect and kindness. It never feels weird or anything. It just feels like a friendly thing we do for each other. It doesn't feel like I am being at all subservient, either, because I am getting as much pleasure out of it as he is.'
Both of them were listening intently as I spoke. I continued, "So listen, Evan. You've got a great cock, and I liked sucking it. And I wouldn't mind doing it again sometime. But not if you're going to talk down to me and call me names. If you ever want another blow job from me I need you to treat me with respect, like a friend. I don't think there is anything inherently low or degrading about this at all. For me, it just feels like something really, really fun to do. I like doing it, I like it a lot, and I'm glad I have a roommate who is happy to let me enjoy his nice cock whenever I want."
I could see both of them nodding. Michael was smiling at me in a way that let me know he actually felt proud of me. I don't know what Evan was thinking, but he was listening.
"Here's another thing. My mouth is not a pussy. I don't think there is anything feminine about sucking another guy's cock. To me, it actually feels like one of the most masculine things one guy can do for another."
"Wow," said Evan, after a pause. I'm really sorry. I don't know why I said all that stuff. Probably comes from watching too much porn. I never occurred to me that this was something that could just be, you know, like friendly shit guys do together. I'm still trying to wrap my head around that, but I think you're right. And I think it's really cool that you've got your head so together about this. Will you forgive me for being such an asshole?"
"Totally," I said.
"Friends?" he said.
"Friends," I agreed.
Then I could see the beginnings of a grin creeping across Evan's face. "You want to stop by my room after dinner? My roommate is on an overnight with the football team."
"Hmmm. Maybe," I said. "If I think you deserve it." But in my mind I already knew I would I would be there. I knew I would be crossing that hallway often for the rest of the school year.
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