I'd just graduated college and moved to New York to find a job. With a recession setting in, there wasn't a whole lot of work available, and I probably would've been homeless (or forced to go back to Nebraska) if it weren't for my parents' friend, Craig.
Craig had a nice enough place in the city -- 2 bedrooms, 1 bath, in a new enough building to not hear your neighbors' music...or other activities.
I'd been staying with Craig for about two months now, jumping from one odd job to the next but never keeping one long enough to move out on my own. Craig hadn't complained openly very much, but I was starting to get the sense that he was growing tired of having me around.
Things finally came to a head when Craig brought a date home one night, but as soon as she saw she had a "roommate" she was out the door. And Craig was pissed. "You eat my food, you don't clean up after yourself, you don't pay rent, and you don't even say thanks...and now you fucking cockblock me?" He'd yelled before storming out the door.
I took that opportunity to raid his liquor cabinet.
I was in the shower, pretty shitfaced, when Craig came back, so I didn't hear him come in. I know he saw the half-empty bottle of $300 Johnnie Walker Blue, because he had it in his hand when he tore open the shower curtain and cranked the temperature all the way cold.
"Yo, what the fuck??" I shouted, jumping back from the freezing water (keep in mind that this was New York in December, so that water was COLD).
He didn't say anything, but shoved me back under the shower and gestured at the bottle of whisky. "Stay right fucking there," he snarled, "I'm evening the score."
I crossed my arms over my chest, shivering feverishly as I shrank back into the corner of the shower, desperately trying to keep some warmth in. Craig drained the last swig from the bottle, dropped it on the ground, and turned off the water before stepping into the shower.
Deeply inebriated and chilled to the bone, I still hadn't processed exactly what was happening as Craig undid his pants and let them fall to the floor. "You cold, boy?" He sneered.
I nodded, still not quite up to speed, but definitely very cold. "That's too bad," he said, grabbing one of my hands and pushing it into his underwear.
He moved my hand past the coarse hair of his bush and down to his cock. I could feel it hardening and tried to pull my hand away, but his grip was far too strong. "My cock's warm, isn't it?" He said. I nodded, repulsed to be touching another man's cock but desperate for some warmth. "Get on your knees then," he ordered, grabbing a fistful of my hair and firmly shoving me to my knees.