Part 1
I desperately tried to maintain a straight face in light of what was now occurring. The dinner meeting had gone well, business had been discussed, agreements were reached and it seemed like a new partnership had been achieved. The booth was round and large with plenty of room left over to my right, allowing the two business men to be comfortably spaced, but still directly across from both myself and my roommate Matt. Matt on the other hand was seated rather close to my immediate left and of course blocking the only exit from my side of the booth. Despite that, I was in no way uncomfortable and blissfully unaware that either of the two gentlemen might be thinking that Matt and I were somehow something more than just roommates. I knew in my mind that I was a straight-as-they-come type of fellow, despite the fact that Matt was extraordinarily gay.
I had invited him along for moral support and to give me a boost during the evenings business discussions. I had known Matt for a few years since we worked together, and so when I had broken up with my girlfriend, I was suddenly in need of a roommate to supplement the mortgage. He needed a new place to live since his current relationship had gone south as well. Matt was a free spirited and happy personality who liked to flirt with every guy he saw. This never really bothered me, even when the object of his overt flirtations was me. On several occasions he had invited me to let go and experiment with him, to which I always declined. His determination however was remarkable and noteworthy in that he was relentless in his pursuit, often employing some rather creative off the cuff sexual comments, looking for some type of inclination from me that it would be safe for him to proceed. In fact, the last time he suggested to me that he could to help "relieve" my stress, he also boasted that one day he would indeed succeed with me and that I would not only enjoy it immensely, but I would thereafter, one day, beg him for sexual fulfillment. I of course scoffed at the notion
At times he would make sexual gestures toward me, such as gliding the tip of his tongue over his lips if I were to walk around in my underwear, or blowing me a kiss each night as I went to bed. He on the other hand was always walking around in his underwear, some of which were very provocative. I always accepted these little gestures as harmless jokes, humorous, but subtle innuendos that would never amount to anything. I was also always quick to point that out to him as well, but I never gave him the satisfaction of thinking he might be getting to me by staging any type of complaint.
As for what was now happening, it had begun rather slowly and subtly, nothing that would startle me out of my seat per se, a light nudge and then a hand placed gently on my upper left thigh.
"What is he doing? - Oh my God!" I thought. "He can't do this to me, not here, not now!"
A thousand thoughts went through my head in an attempt to either dismiss it or explain it away, but in the end there was simply no mistaking it ... Matt was making a sexual advance on me, serpiticiously under the table.
The two business men continued with the conversation as did Matt, while I suddenly found myself speechless. I was immobilized, frozen in my seat, unable to think or move. I didn't dare slide away from Matt as it might suggest to the two men that something of an alarming nature, at least to me, was occurring directly across from them under the table. Something that could jeopardize or even destroy the progress we had just made several minutes earlier. I was completely trapped, boxed in to the booth with no escape, and for the life of me I couldn't come up with any type of reason to excuse myself from their company.
And even if I could have come up with a convenient lie to get up from the table, it was already too late. I couldn't understand or believe how swiftly Matt was able to skillfully unzip my fly and slip his hand into my pants. Nor could I understand why at that moment I had become so aroused by his touch. But I couldn't deny it, I had become extremely hard and erect. Perhaps it was due to the fact that it had been so long since I had been touched and indeed needed the "relief" Matt suggested many weeks ago. Perhaps it was because it was so extraordinarily taboo and against everything I understood as normal sexual behavior that overrode my senses and aroused me into excitement. Or further still, perhaps it was because I was completely trapped and rapidly falling under his control and that his prediction of one day having me was indeed going to come true and I was completely powerless to stop it. That in itself was frightening yet strangely erotic.
Either way, he continued to slowly fumble around until his prize could be had, namely my cock. I made a feeble attempt to shuffle in my seat to reposition myself out of his reach, but amazingly to my distress and shock, it only afforded him better access to the flap on my boxers allowing his soft hands to take hold of my now fully erect shaft. Within moments I could feel the underwear give way, exposing my penis to the surrounding coolness of air. There I sat completely confounded by the fact I was sitting in a restaurant, filled with people, not to mention a booth with two business men two feet away from me with my exposed penis (albeit under the table and table cloth) being slowly squeezed and stroked by my gay roommate.
There was literally nothing I could do. I couldn't reach down to fend off Matt's advances or slide away closer to the two business men. I imagined the shock of these two guys jumping out of there seats and my resulting humiliation of them leaving so offended at my exposure, to say nothing of the fact of all of the attention I would receive from the various patrons, or indeed, the management. It was checkmate, I had been carefully positioned into a situation for which I could do nothing, nor could I escape.
Taking complete control, Matt carried on with the conversation, keeping the two men from engaging me and prolonging my agony ... or should I say ecstasy. What was I thinking?
"How could I be enjoying this"? "How could he do this to me, how could he be taking such advantage of me"? I thought. But any thoughts of anger or disgust were strangely absent as he continued to gently stroke me. More embarrassing than the fact he had me in his grip, was the fact that I was so turned on by it, which shortly became evident to Matt as my semen began to help lubricate his efforts. His fingers formed a ring which surrounded my shaft as he began to focus mostly near the top of my penis all around it's bell shaped head.
It was so difficult to just sit there motionless, trying desperately to maintain the illusion of the fact that I was struggling not to cum. My heart raced and began to get caught up in my throat as I fought the urge to gasp with pleasure. After what seemed like an eternity I began to feel the familiar build up and tightening of muscles as the glorious moment began to approach. Matt was going to make me cum, there was no doubt about it and no way to stop it. I began to panic as I realized I had no way of knowing where my sperm was going to end up. Was I going to spew all over my new business partner's pants or shoes, or would I be drenched for everyone to see the moment I stood to leave the restaurant.
I had to do something, I had to give him some sign that the moment was at hand. With that I shook my leg against his, hoping he would get the message. With that I felt his hand encompass the entire head of my penis just as I began to pulse. Wave after wave of sexual release emerged in the form of warm sticky cum directly into his hand, and I was actually greatful for the fact that Matt was caring enough to prevent the evidence from our "intercourse" from becoming known to everyone. With a final squeeze and stroke, I felt Matt skillfully collect most of the cum and release me.
At that moment, I breathed a sigh of relief that did not go unnoticed by the two gentlemen.
"Are you OK?" one asked.
"I'm great." I said
"Just a sigh of complete satisfaction ... for such a wonderful and fulfilling meal" I clarifyingly stammered.
I continued conversing with the gentlemen as Matt stealthily used the napkin in his lap to clean up - so to speak - and then replace the object of his attention back into my pants, complete with rezipping my fly. Not long after, we concluded our dinner meeting, shook hands and graciously parted ways. I was not looking forward to the ride home with Matt. Not so much because I was exceedingly angry with him for violating our friendship, for violating me ... but because of the awkwardness of it all. I certainly wasn't going to say anything out in the open, in public, where we would make a spectacle of ourselves and possibly advertise to everyone within earshot what transpired moments ago inside the restaurant. I was going to wait until we were in the car.
On the drive home nothing was said about it and Matt actually feigned innocence as though nothing happened at all. When we arrived home, I went straight to my room, informing him I was going to bed and then closed the door. Matt, of course, puckered his lips and sent me a kiss as always. I did not respond.
It took several hours for me to fall asleep, my mind racing with images from the nights events, specifically my intense ejaculation at the hand of my roommate. The feeling was so strange, the thought of another man touching me was something that never crossed my mind and I could not come to terms with it. I felt angry, embarrassed, humiliated, violated, scared (that someone would find out), and something else ... I felt very sexually gratified. Cumming is always a pleasure, and it had been a while since I had been so wonderfully induced.
"BUT IT WAS MATT!" I screamed in my mind.
"This should never have happened. I would never let him do to me what he did, under any circumstance." I tried to convince myself.
"What am I going to do?"
Over and over, thoughts of him jerking me off swirled in my mind. The moment of cumming all over his hand, the incredible sensation from his touch, the uncharacteristic short duration it took me to actually cum. I was an unwilling participant in a moment of nothing less than a sexual assault - a homosexual one at that. I was sexually stimulated against my will, in a public place, by an oversexed (or perhaps undersexed), gay, pervert - for lack of a better word ... and yet ... I still came. If I had remained flaccid through his workings with no "happy ending" as it were, I might feel significantly more justified in my anger and willing to pursue retribution against him ... but again ... I came.
"I came ... ." I whispered.
Those words resounded over an over in my mind as a feeling of great embarrassment began to overtake me. But it was late and I had to get some sleep. It didn't even occur to me as I rolled over on my stomach, that I was locked in a deep erection, and had been throughout the entire time of laying in bed. I believe my underwear was a bit "wet" as well.
"What am I going to do?" I thought. And off to sleep I fell.
Part 2
A couple of weeks had gone by and still nothing was said regarding "the event" as I now called it. But there was a definite discomfort and awkwardness in the air between us. I didn't know how to broach the subject with him ... at all. I mean what would I say?
"Um, yeah ... about that night a couple of weeks ago ..."
These are words a man might say to a woman, not another man. It was driving me crazy to not discuss this with him, but I was also terrified at the thought of it as well. By discussing it, I would be acknowledging to him that it actually happened, thus empowering him. And since I had waited so long, it might also appear that I was not actually angry at him, thus providing him with the ammunition he sought to prove his boast. The one where he stated he would eventually have me, and so I continued to pretend like nothing happened. Another aspect of my discomfort that I did not want to divulge was the fact that whenever I would think about "the event", it always seemed to result with me experiencing a persistent hard-on and a need for sexual release - which I began to do with greater frequency. I was extremely confused to say the least.
Something had to be done, and so I began getting back into the dating scene - with women - of course, but nothing seemed to pan out very well. I'd meet a girl, we'd go out for a time and then it would fizzle out. After the third or fourth such failure, I returned home early one Friday night, so early, in fact, the sun had not yet set. Matt was home and as I walked past him to my room, he jokingly commented from the look on my face that I had failed yet again.
"I'm really getting tired of taking cold showers." I responded, not realizing I had just given him the indication that I was apparently very sexually unsatisfied as of late.
I swung the door in a frustrated attempt to close it behind me, not noticing that it remained open very slightly. I got undressed down to my boxers and laid down on the bed on top of the covers. After a while I closed my eyes and began to fantasize. At first about a large-breasted brunette, I had recently seen, but then curiously, my thoughts turned back to that night in the restaurant with Matt. Immediately, my cock became engorged and was all but busting out of my underwear. Without further hesitation I slipped it out from it's prison and slowly began to masturbate.
Suddenly, the door opened and Matt entered the room. I fumbled with embarrassment to try and cover myself, but I couldn't get my penis back into my underwear. Being on top of the bed spread, I had no way of covering my nakedness. Just as I was about to sit up, Matt leapt onto the bed, and covered my legs with his body. His face coming to a stop just inches from my exposed penis. Crossing his arms under his chin, he smiled and stared directly at it.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I asked incredulously.
