A New Roommate

Money was tight. I was halfway through my senior year in college and money was as tight as it had ever been. A part-time job at a bookstore and financial aid doesn’t go all that far. However, it wasn’t until my roommate took off that things got desperate. There was no way in the world I’d be able to cover all that rent. It was a bad situation.

The apartment was not a great one. It was a one bedroom spot. My roommate and I had done okay with sharing a bedroom since we tended to have such different hours. He also spent a few nights at his girlfriend’s place. That made it a lot easier. I was sure it wouldn’t be easy to find a similar set up.

Initially, I had two candidates for the spot: the first was a friend of my ex-girlfriend. She had always had a thing for me and I guess that she saw this as an opportunity to do something about it. I explained to her that I would feel awkward having her as a roommate considering that she was friends with my ex. I also told her that my folks would be unhappy if I was to share an apartment with a woman.

The second possibility was a guy I had known since I was a freshman. But he was just about the last person I’d be happy with as a roommate. He was the partying type and I suspected that I’d never get my work done. I stalled before giving him an answer. Even if I didn’t want him, I might not have any option.

After two days of wrangling with the problem, I decided to make him the one. I’d just have to set down some ground rules. The decision was made easy by the size of my paycheck that week. I picked it up as I clocked in for my shift and took a quick peek to see if it was as bad as I thought it might be (I had called in sick one day in the previous pay period). It was worse. Yikes. Well, I’d have to let the partier be the guy.

Just as I was about to finish my shift and head home, I was stopped by one of the assistant managers, Mike. He said that he had heard I was looking for a roommate.

His condo had just sold (after only two days on the market). Unfortunately, Mike’s new house was still being built. It was a nice place that he’d bought, something he’d been saving up for for years.

Mike was a nice guy. Somewhere in his late thirties, I imagined. I didn’t know too much about him – we rarely worked at the same time. The one thing that I did know about him was that he was gay. Now, that didn’t bother me…and it did. Does that make sense?

I’d grown accustomed to sharing a room. All of the dorms I’d lived in were two to a room – just as this apartment was. I mentioned to Mike that it might not be such a great place for him because of that feature alone.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, “I can sleep anywhere. Besides, it’s only for a twelve weeks, eh?”

To my surprise, he wasn’t the one that had difficulty sleeping. It was me.

The trouble didn’t come at first. It was maybe a week into his stay that I noticed one evening a very faint sound. Initially, I thought it might have been the wind blowing against something outside. But almost immediately I realized that the rhythm to the sound that I was hearing was too consistent.

Finally I realized. Although it was soft – almost too soft to hear – it was obvious to me that Mike was jerking off in bed. It was the sound of his hand against the sheet – at least I thought it was. He didn’t moan, breathe heavy or any of the other typical signs of a jerk off. It was clear to me that he was doing his best to keep me from hearing.

That first night I just waited for it to stop. And it did, after about twenty minutes. I hoped at that point that it was a one time thing. It wasn’t. Every night for the next week I heard the same sound. Even on the nights that I didn’t hear it, I figured that he was either being extra quiet or that he had held off until I’d drifted off to sleep.

There was one evening that I heard him start up around midnight or so. It was a quick one. An hour or so later, I awoke to hear him whispering.

“Scott? Are you awake?”

I didn’t respond. I was actually frozen in bed. Why was he asking? I got my answer in short order. The sound began again. It was his second of the night.

The rest of the time, things went fairly normally. We got along pretty well and there were never any disputes about money, space, messes or the typical things that trouble roommates. It was just the nights.

There was one evening in particular that I didn’t much feel like hearing the masturbation serenade as I drifted off to sleep. I told Mike that I was going to stay up a little later and get some extra reading done. Truth was, I just curled up on the small couch in the living room and tried to fall asleep. I did okay for about an hour, but the couch was not made for sleeping. I finally decided that bed – even with a guy jerking off several feet away – was a better alternative.

As I approached the bedroom, however, I tried to make a little noise (throat clearing, etc.) to warn Mike that I was coming in. I opened the door and heard him shuffle a little in his bed. It took me a couple of seconds to get my bearing in the dark, but it was obvious that he was laying naked, face down on top of the covers of his bed. It seemed like he was awake, but pretending he was asleep. Quickly, I got into bed, turned the other way and buried my head in the pillow.

By the time that Mike had been there for two weeks, I decided that there was very little I could do. It’s not in my nature to simply tell somebody that their masturbation is making me uncomfortable. I had the idea that I might embarrass somebody, or hurt their feelings (not to mention the embarrassment for myself). I resolved, therefore, to simply live with the problem for ten more weeks. I’d probably laugh about it years down the road (although who with, I had no idea).

But sleep was not as restful for me at that point. I’d also stopped jerking off myself (which ordinarily might happen two or three times a week) because it reminded me of the situation. School was getting tougher as the semester wore on and I must have looked somewhat ragged to Mike. Finally, one night, he mentioned it:

“Hey, Scott, I don’t want to get too personal, but is everything okay with you?”

“Sure, I s’pose so. Why?” I was a little paranoid that my irritation might be showing.

“You just seem uptight…you know, tense.”

“Busy semester. I mean, after May, I’ll be out of school…which is good, but bad. And I’ve got lots of work between now and then. I suppose it’s making me a little tense.”

“Well, everybody graduating from school goes through that.”

“I s’pose so.”

Now, if that had been the end of it, fine. In fact, I thought that was. But then…

“You know, Scott, I used to do massage therapy. If you need a little tension breaker, I’ll be happy to do what I can.”

If he’d done this with a wink and a smile, I would have had an easy time saying no. Mike, however, was completely sincere in the offer (at least it seemed that way). I felt as though saying no might be taken as an insult. Still, I tried to finesse my way out of it.

“That’s nice, but it sounds like a lot of work…you don’t have to –“

“It’s not a big deal, really. I just thought it might help you relax.” He paused and thought for a moment. “If it would make you uncomfortable…then it’s okay. I understand.”

I’ll never know if he knew how that would make me feel guilty or if he was being sincere. I choose to believe the latter.

“No,” I said, “Nothing like that. I just didn’t want to be a…you know, problem.”

“Not one bit. Why don’t you go in and lay down on your bed. Much easier than the couch.”

I got up and walked into the bedroom, all the way wondering if this was his giant come on ploy. I waited for him to tell me to strip and wondered how I would get around that.

“Okay,” he said, walking into the room, “lay face down.”

I was amazed. No suggestion of shedding clothes. I laid on the bed and he sat beside me, starting to work my shoulders and back. It was fantastic. This was draining all the tension from my body in a way that I’d never felt. Ten minutes later, I was feeling great.

“How was that?” He asked as he stood, stretching his hands.

“That was the best. God, my back, my shoulders feel fantastic.”

“Great.”

With that, he returned to the other room. I didn’t mind his jerk off action that night, he’d earned it as far as I was concerned.

The massages continued that week – twice more. Both times were equally great. It wasn’t until the following week that Mike said as he prepared to begin another rub down:

“You know, if you ever want a really great full body thing, I can do that, too.”

“Oh?” I asked, nervously.

“Yeah. As good as what I’ve been doing for you is, the full body variety is much, much better. You game?”

How could I say no? All the trust that had been built up would look like it didn’t count for anything.

“Okay.” I said.

“Well, the first thing I need, is for you to strip down to your underwear. Is that okay?”

“Sure.” I said. I didn’t think it sounded convincing. I slowly began to take off my shirt and pants. Mike had disappeared. When he returned, he had a bottle of oil with him.

“Okay,” He said, “face down, as usual.” With that, I got into position and he began. He was right. It was much better. He made his way down my back to the top of my boxer shorts and stopped right there. He didn’t try to push them any lower. He moved down to my feet. I suppose that’s when it began. I started feeling my cock harden. Only slightly at first, but harden, nevertheless.

As Mike worked his way up my legs, my cock got harder and harder. I was relieved that it was wedged up against my stomach. He’d never know if I didn’t move from the face down position.

Once he reached my upper thighs, Mike slowed. He didn’t try to cross any lines and get up inside the boxers. He was very respectful.

“There you go,” he said. “How was it?”

“Fantastic,” I replied. It had been. Much better than the previous massages. “I really want to thank-you for this”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, “good practice for me.” With that, he returned his oil to the bathroom and I was alone. My cock was coming down a bit, but there was no denying that it had reached maximum density.

The full body massages continued every night that week. He always offered and I would have felt bad saying no. But it wasn’t until a Thursday night that he came home from work to find me studying and looked at me with fatigue that things changed.

“What happened to you,” I asked.

“Had to work my shift and half of Joe Corrigan’s”

“Why?” I asked.

“He was sick, got sick on his way to work. Nobody else could cover.” Mike sat down, sighed.

“You okay?”

“Sure. Just worn out. Have to go back tomorrow morning for the managers’ meeting.”

“Doesn’t sound too good.”

“It’s not. Really don’t feel like it.” He paused, then looked over at me. “Listen, I hate to ask this, but the fact is…I feel miserable. Do you think we could switch places tonight. You give me the rubdown? I’ll talk you through it.”

I never dreamed this might come up, but what could I say? No? I’d feel like the biggest asshole in the world.

“Well, okay, but I don’t know how good I’ll be at it.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, “whatever you can do will be appreciated.”

As he got up, I wondered if he had the simple ‘clothes on’ type of rubdown, or the full blown, down to the underwear sort of thing. I got my answer pretty quickly. He returned from the bathroom with his bottle of oil and was wearing only a towel around his middle. Into the bedroom we went.

As he laid on his bed, he moved the towel around to cover only his rear end. I nervously spread a little oil on my hands and sat on the bed beside him. Tentatively, I started to work on his shoulders.

“How’s that?” I asked.

“Fine. That’s good. You can go a little harder if it’s not too much work for you.”

I rubbed a little harder, working the tension in his shoulders out the best I could.

“You’re doing a nice job,” he said, with the sound of his words almost resembling a moan. “That’s what I need right now.”

There wasn’t much hair on Mike’s body at all – only a little on his chest (and even that was thin). My point here is that it wasn’t an unpleasant experience massaging his shoulders and back. And that fact, along with his moaning began creating a response in me even though he was the one getting the rubdown. It was strange. I felt as though I was the cause of Mike’s pleasure (which I was), but I attached a sexual thought to it for a moment or two (mainly because of the moaning). As a result, I got a little hard. It wasn’t hard as a rock, just pleasantly plump.

Once I had finished Mike’s lower back, he spoke:

“Mmmm, thanks. That was outstanding for a first massage. I feel like a person again.”

“No problem. I definitely owed you one,” I said as I stood from his bed and moved over to my own, sitting down.

Mike turned onto his side and glanced over at me for a silent moment. Then he spoke:

“Well, how about you? Are you in need tonight? You look like it.”

“Me? You mean a massage?”

“Sure.”

“I’m okay.”

“You should take advantage,” he said, “Once we move out of this place and onto greener pastures, you won’t have a live in masseuse.”

He stood up, tying the towel around his waist.

“Here,” he started, “I’ll give you a quick one.” He picked up the bottle of oil and I knew that he was expecting me to strip down to my underwear. I slid my shirt off and then my pants. By then he was standing beside my bed, waiting for me to lie on my stomach. Once I did, he sat beside me and began rubbing my shoulders. Once again, it felt very good. No surprise there.

Then he did something different. He straddled me, weight on his knees, and continued with the massage. I was unable to look back at him, but I knew that he was over me. The only contact that he made with me was still hands on shoulders and back, but I was surprised at the position he had taken.

“How does that feel?” He asked.

“Great,” I responded.

“Bet it doesn’t feel as good as you got me feeling,” he said softly, “You’ve got really great hands.”

I didn’t say a word. My hard on was starting to come back.

“Do I have good hands?” he asked.

“Yeah. They do good with a massage.”

“Thanks,” he said, “You’ve got great shoulders, too”

With that, he moved out of the straddling position and laid down on the bed beside me, occupying the side that I was facing away from. He continued to stroke my back gently.

“We’re getting all massaged out, aren’t we?” He whispered.

“Uh-huh,” was all I could say.

He kept caressing me.

“Sometimes a nice soft touch is the best,” he whispered, “How old are you? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?”

“Twenty-two,” I answered.

“Mmm, I figured. I’m forty. Just turned a couple of months ago.”

I felt his thigh lightly touch mine. I could feel my heart pumping.

“Do you trust forty year olds?” He asked.

“I s’pose so.”

“Your bed smells nice.”

With that, I felt him shift slightly and then kiss my shoulder. Another kiss.

“Is that okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” I said softly, only then realizing how hard my cock had become.

He kissed me again. Then ran his hand down my back and over my ass briefly until he pulled it away.

“Can you see my face in the dark?” He asked.

I slowly turned my head over toward him. I could make out the basic features.

“A little bit.”

“A little bit?”

He moved his face closer, our lips were almost touching.

“Is this better?”

“Mm-hmm.” I responded.

He pushed his lips to mine and softly kissed me.

“Is that better?”

“Yes,” I said softly.

He kissed me again, slipping his tongue to my lips. I let him move his tongue inside, to mine. In seconds were kissing deeply. I felt him shift and then dispose of his towel. He pulled me closer to him. We kissed again.

I could feel his cock against my leg for a couple of seconds before he started pulling my boxers off. We were both hard. Rock hard. As he continued to kiss me, he started to stroke my cock.

“You have a nice cock, Scott” he said.

“Thanks.”

With that, he slid down from our kiss and tongued/kissed his way down my body. In seconds he was licking the head of my hard dick, rubbing his lips over it, teasing it. Then up and down the shaft once or twice. Finally, he slid my throbbing cock into his mouth. In a few strokes it was all the way in his mouth. My seven inches were no problem for him.

I was in heaven. I’d never had a blowjob remotely as good as this one. He went from my cock to my balls and back to my cock. It was only a few minutes before I realized that I couldn’t hold on any longer.

“Umm…Mike, I –“

He seemed to understand and he stopped sucking me just in time. He slid back up to face me.

“Your cock is delicious.”

Then he kissed me again. I tasted some of myself on his mouth. It was unreal.

“Are you okay?” He asked me.

“Yes. I’m okay.”

It was then that I felt an obligation and I slid my hand down his body to find his cock –hard as cement and dripping with pre-cum. I also found that he was huge. As I stroked him, he moaned.

“Mmmm…..please, baby,” he said, “Please suck me if you can.”

Almost without thinking, I lowered myself to his hard member and looked right at it. I was about to suck another man’s cock. I couldn’t believe it. Before I had too much time to think, I stuck my tongue out and touched it. Then swirled my tongue around the head slowly. He seemed to like that.

I found out later that his cock measured eight and a half inches. Needless to say, I couldn’t get it all in my mouth. But I sure tried. I wound up offering a combination of licking up and down the shaft, sucking the top few inches and stroking it. He told me he loved it.

Without stopping me, he announced that we should sixty-nine. I was all for it. Spinning around, he got into position and we went at it. Both of us were moaning, licking and sucking. I’d never experienced anything like it. And then –

--I felt his fingers softly playing with my ass. I would have stopped him if it didn’t feel so good. I returned the favor, running two of my finger through his crack and onto his hole. He started sucking my balls, I followed suit. It was at that point that I felt his tongue traveling downward. I didn’t believe that he would actually get his tongue to my asshole, but he did. Then, he seemed to wait.

So intoxicated with lust was I that it only took me a brief moment to gather my courage. I worked my tongue to his asshole as he cried out in pleasure. We then proceeded to rim each other in sixty-nine position. It was amazing.

We were to the point where neither one of us could hold out much longer. Once we returned to sucking cocks, it only took a few seconds. We blew cum into each other’s faces within ten seconds of each other. I couldn’t believe it.

Once we had cleaned up a little, Mike got back into bed with me and we laid together in the nude. We had two more episodes that night, but he promised me that there was a lot more to explore…if I was interested.