College roommate
Note: All characters are adults, over the age of 18.
I suppose college is an age of discovery for lots of us. I was in the closet in high school. I found one guy to fool around with, although we'd always pretend it was just experimenting and we both were straight—despite doing pretty much everything two guys can do.
That ended when I went off to college, but I didn't feel like I'd be "out and proud" when I got there. I was still worried about what my family and friends would think if I was out. I suppose I still was holding onto the idea that I could learn to be straight. Yeah, I know, but I was scared. The closet is a sad place.
The school assigned us our roommates, and I got John. We were given each other's contact info in advance, so I got to chat with him a little. He had a heavy accent that was very Texas, as he was, but it seemed out of place on an 18-year-old guy. I'd been to Texas, and it seemed like the younger generations were losing the heavy accent. Not him. He had it in full bloom. Well, okay. It was intriguing.
He told me he was working as a lifeguard over the summer, and I have to admit that got my attention. We connected online, and I got to see some photos. He was nicely muscled. More of a lithe, strong swimmer's build than some kind of gym rat. But then as we exchanged some messages, he talked about all the pussy he was going to get when we arrived on campus. Well, really, what did I expect?
I guess, since I was a good student who had gotten into a tough school, I expected that I'd be surrounded by people with a bit more sophistication. Yeah, that was ignorant on my part. Even smart students can be made up of strutting jocks, sex-blinded horndogs and every other type of person. Well, John was definitely focused on one thing above all else.
So we arrived on campus about the same time, and we unpacked our stuff. He sounded like a tough guy. Not threatening, but that cowboy voice and then his joining ROTC just gave off a certain vibe. But the truth was, he was harmless. He would toss his gum across the room, miss the trash pail and have it land on the floor. When he did that and then tried to ignore it, I found I wasn't ready to take any gross shit in my home away from home. So I snapped, "pick that up." He'd mumble "sorry" and clean up after himself. No tough-guy pushback.
Long story short, I could have gotten a worse roommate. Okay, he did go get really drunk with his ROTC buddies and come back some nights to get sick in our bathroom (we were in a 2-room suite with a shared bathroom). That wasn't pleasant. And he could be tough to take in other ways. But I also felt a little sorry for him. We all were horny teenagers, but he tried really hard to get girls to come back to the room with him, with relatively little success. One night I found he'd left our agreed signal outside the door, so I went to a neighboring room to hang out and give him time to do his thing. Later, he appeared and admitted that he'd had so much to drink that, "I couldn't get my soldier to salute."
Yeah, that was my roomie. I can't say that he walked around naked all the time, but he would wear his tighty whities. They looked nicely filled out, but I, the local closet case, was doing my best to avert my eyes. Then one day, midway through the first semester, he was walking around our room like that when he went to adjust himself, using one hand and pushing down his underwear for just a moment. But that moment was enough for me to see what was the longest dick I'd ever seen in person.
I must have looked stunned. He kind of half-smiled. "Like what you see?"
I almost panicked. "No, I, uh..." I didn't know what to say.
"Hey, it's okay, man. Are you into guys?"
I was really on the edge of panic. "No, of course not!"
"Hey, really, I don't care. You do your thing, and I'll do mine."
"Really, John, I just was caught off guard."
He smiled again. "I've been naked around lots of guys and none of them ever looked at me like that."
"Really, it just surprised me," I said.
"Okay, calm down, bud. I'm not saying a word to anyone."
Then he got this look on his face like he had a thought. A mischievous thought, from the looks of it.
"You know," he said, "it's really hard to get laid here. I bet having a roommate who sucked cock would be pretty awesome."
With that, I overreacted. I said, "okay, that's it. I'm going to go study in the library!"
And I grabbed my stuff and headed for the door, with John calling after me, "hey, I didn't mean to piss you off. Sorry!"
With that, I was on my way to the library. More like, I was running away. A straight guy was suggesting that I might be able to suck his dick. Doesn't every horny young guy (at least the ones who lust for other guys) have some straight guy fantasies? I knew I did. Still, I was scared of what others might think of me.
I spent a couple of hours in the library, trying to read and get some classwork done, but it was no use. I finally gave up and headed back to the dorms. I felt stupid, scared, confused... but I had to go back to my room eventually. When I got there, John was fully dressed, but that only helped a little.
Suddenly, I was really noticing the long muscles of his body and how the tight jeans hugged his swimmer's ass. This could be even more difficult than I thought. And I was staring. And he caught me. Shit!
I looked up to see him smiling his half-smile. He came off as rough around the edges, but I guess he was deeper than I'd realized to that point. "Jess," (that's me), "it's okay. I really don't care what you like, and I'm not saying anything to anyone."
I wasn't sure if I wanted to laugh or cry. I thought for just a minute and then sort of mumbled, "thanks, man." And I laid back on my bed. It wasn't really bedtime, but I guess all the emotion and excitement had exhausted me, because I soon was asleep.
The next morning, things went on like nothing had happened. John went to class. I went to class. We went along like nothing happened. As the week ended, the usual weekend activities started up. It wasn't really a party school, but there was always something happening. Sure enough, John found parties to attend. The main one seemed to be the party at the football frat. He wasn't on the football team, but he managed to get in there. I didn't do anything that night. Played some games and read a book, as I recall. As I was about to call it quits, he came stumbling back in. He wasn't as trashed as some nights, thankfully, but he wasn't sober, either. Ah, my roomie.
He just collapsed on his bed. He kind of groaned, and I knew that sound after a couple of months of living with him. "No luck, huh?"
"Well, I made out with a couple of girls, but no one wanted to come back."
"Sorry, bud."
"I'm gonna take a shower."
And with that, he stripped down to his underwear and headed for the bathroom.
About 10 minutes later, he came back with just a towel wrapped around his waist.
I'd relaxed a bit. I still wasn't ready for "out and proud," but I felt like John was helping keep my secret. And I found myself just smiling at him. "Those girls were idiots. Who wouldn't want a shot at that?"
He laughed. "Hey, listen to you! This has to be progress."
"Thanks, John. I know I haven't been the easiest, but you're really cool, man."
