I was going back home from throwing some hoops with the guys one afternoon when I decided to drop in on Charlie and see how he was doing. He was a little high strung and had been having trouble with his latest live in of late. Denny, the live in, was a real cocky asshole, so sure of himself and going directly for what he wanted—and usually getting it—and taking advantage of everyone along the way. And he was messy. Charlie was so fussy about neatness that I knew this arrangement with Denny wasn't going to work out from the beginning.
The most irritating thing about Denny was that he had every reason to be cocky. He was a professional model and had the perfect body—with an unbelievable long and thick cock to match. He made my knees tremble with desire as much as the next guy and I disliked him doubly for this reason.
Denny answered the door, decked out only in a bath towel.
"Charlie's not here," he said, "But he should be back soon. Come on in and wait. He'll be a pissy little bitch if he misses you."
"No, that's okay, I'll . . ."
"I said come on in," and he pulled me across the threshold and closed the door.
I perched on a sofa near the door, as Denny padded back toward the hallway to the bedrooms.
"I was just taking a shower. You can entertain yourself . . . ," and he turned in the doorway to the hall and let his towel drop, revealing his horse-hung cock and, with a big grin, said, ". . . or you can shower with me and entertain me."
"Naw, thanks," I croaked. "I'll just wait for Charlie. You know how upset he'd be if he found one of his friends messing around with you."
"Ah, well, your loss, stud," Denny said with a laugh and turned and padded down the hallway to the bath at the end, twirling his towel in an outstretched hand and showing a luscious bulbous butt.
Less than ten minutes later, I heard Denny calling me from down the hall.
"Could ya come here, please? I want to show you something."
I sighed and stood up and walked half way down the hall way. The bathroom door was open. Unexpectedly, Denny entered the hallway from the door to a bedroom close at hand. He was wet and still naked.
"What?" I started to say.
"This is what I wanted to show you," he said with a grin. He was wanking his dong, which had hardened out to a good ten inches. He had a tube of lubricant in his hands and was already greasing up his shaft. "You wouldn't take a shower with me, and all I could think of was bonking you while I was in the shower. And see what you did to me? So, what are you going to do about it?"
"Hey look, Charlie is . . ."
"Charlie isn't here," Denny interjected. "And I don't want Charlie right now. I want you." With that he pushed me up against the hallway wall with a strong forearm, my cheek against the cold plaster, and he worked long fingers under the hem of my gym shorts and up between my butt cheeks to my asshole. All I was wearing under my shorts was a jock strap. Although I was dressed, he had easy access to me. He was lathering up my asshole with the lube and obviously was just looking for a quick fuck. And, naturally, he was thinking of his need and pleasure only.
"Here, pull your butt back to me and spread those legs a bit," he commanded. I did as he asked, and he started working his huge tool into my ass. Tears came to my eyes and I wanted to scream in frustration as much as in pain at his initial slide into me. But most of the frustration stemmed in how much I wanted Denny to do this to me, and how I had wanted it for so long but had held back because I knew Charlie would be devastated. And Charlie was expected to return at any moment.
When he'd worked his way into the root and he'd started a slow pumping action, Denny arms came around me and his hands explored my torso up under my T-shirt and my engorging cock bursting against the jock strap and gym shorts. He left me fully dressed, not even giving me the thrill of my flesh on his perfect body, and laughed when he was able to make me cum very quickly. He continued pumping me from behind for a good long time before he came, and then he just held there until we heard a noise on the porch and the scraping of a key in the lock.
Denny quickly extricated himself from me and glided into his bedroom. I barely was able to make it back to the sofa, my innards awash in Denny's semen, before Charlie, arms full of grocery bags, crossed the threshold into the room.
"What the fuck?" Charlie said as he entered the room.
I rose from the sofa, totally embarrassed, assuming that Charlie had discerned what Denny and I had been doing.
"Denny," Charlie yelled. "You were supposed to clean up this cesspool while I was gone. I can't take this any . . . Oh, hi, Kevin, I didn't see you there. Sorry for the mess."
I collapsed back on the sofa from relief that Charlie clearly didn't suspect what I'd been doing with his live-in lover.
"Denny, come out here," Charlie yelled.
A still-naked Denny padded back out to the door of the living room and leaned up against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a silly grin on his face. "Hi, Charlie," he said, not paying a bit of attention to how angry Charlie was.
"Denny, I can't live in a pigsty like this anymore, and you are three months behind in your share of the rent. Get dressed and get out—Now!" Charlie, trembling and looking quite angry, marched into the kitchen with his bags of groceries.
Returning, he took a belligerent stance, hands on hips, and repeated "Now," in an emphatic voice.
Denny sauntered over to Charlie and came up real close to him, face to face. He gathered Charlie to him with one arm around his back and used his other hand to unbutton Charlie's shirt and explore his chest. The two backed up to the dining room table.
"Denny, don't," Charlie was saying, as he arched his back and Denny's mouth went to his nipples. "I mean it this time. You're a pig, and I want you out."
Denny's mouth came up and covered Charlie's mouth, and his hands went to Charlie's butt cheeks and pulled his groin into Denny's pelvis. I could see that Denny's rod was beginning to rise again.
