My Roommate's Bitch

I awoke the next morning angry. I couldn't believe what I had done the night before, or rather what John had done to me. The deal was a handjob, quick and simple, but he made me go all the way and suck his cock. Then he promised to tell me when he was ready to cum so I could move away but instead he shot his load right into my mouth without a hint of warning. I wanted to walk right into the next room and punch him.

The anger soon became shame. He had forced very little on me. I had agreed to the handjob, and when he asked me to use my mouth I had willingly complied. He may have broken his promise and cum in my mouth, but he didn't make me swallow his cum or suck his shrinking cock dry afterwards and he definitely didn't make me go to my room later that evening and beat off thinking about the whole scene with his taste still on my lips.

I could still taste it.

Throwing myself out of bed, I pushed the memory out of my mind. It was behind me. John and I had made a pact never to discuss it. As far as I was concerned it never happened. I forced myself into my daily routine, showering, shaving, brushing my teeth and dressing. I left for work early, wanting to be out of the apartment before John woke up.

By the end of my shift I had all but forgotten about the night before. Back at the apartment I took my usual seat on the couch and turned on the television. The couch was exactly as we had left it last night and though the memory threatened to come back to me, to play out for me in real time behind my closed eyelids, I pushed it away, back into the deepest, denial-ruled lands of my brain.

It wasn't long after that John came home. As soon as I heard the door to the apartment I looked to it, turning around in my seat on the couch. He threw his coat on the floor just as usual and the hopped over the couch to land next to me. I could see it in his eyes and I visibly cringed before he even opened his mouth to speak. "Hey, I know we said we weren't going to talk about last night, but, man, do you wanna suck my dick again?" He asked.

Without thinking I drew my hand back and hit him in the shoulder as hard as I could. He barely reacted. "You promised!" I yelled.

"Hey," he yelled back, "I'll drop it if you want, but man I know how much you liked sucking my dick, dude." His voice dropped in volume dramatically for the last four words of his statement.

I hit him again, "I did not."

He grabbed my fist before I could pull my arm back. "Come on, Matt." His eyes met mine and I looked away, face burning. "We're friends right?"

We were friends, he was right. I had been mad at him for what happened yesterday, even though it was equally my own fault, but now I was mad at him for wanting to talk about it. I couldn't answer him. I couldn't even look at him. I just stared at my own arm, still tight in his grasp.

"I know how much you love sucking my cock, so why pretend?" He said softly.

"We're not going to talk about it. It didn't happen, remember?" Anger was evident in my voice.

"Look, if that's what you want fine, but it seems silly to me. You liked sucking my cock, I mean, you wouldn't have done it otherwise. I just thought maybe since you like it so much, you might want to do it again." His eyes tried to find mine, but I refused to look at him. I tried to wrench my arm away so I could hit him again but he held fast.

"I gave you a handjob as a favor between friends because you asked me to. You're the one who wanted me to put it and my mouth and all that gay shit. This is why I didn't want to do it in the first place. I knew you would hold it against me." Anger and shame whirled within me again. Why couldn't he just have kept his mouth shut? All I wanted was to forget about what had transpired between the two of us.

"I asked you to give me a handjob, dude, not suck my fucking cock off. You did that on your own."

Unable to wrench my right hand away I started hitting him with my left until he let go of me. I got up off the couch to leave but he grabbed onto the back of my pants and pulled me back onto the couch.

"I didn't mean it like that, dude. Just listen to me okay?" He spoke quickly.

"I'm not gay!" I yelled at him.

He laughed. "Fuck dude, I told you to do that shit, which means if you're gay I'm even gayer and I nail five different bitches a week, remember? That makes you like, super crazy not gay."

I couldn't help but laugh with him. His sentiment took a huge weight off my shoulders. "That's why I didn't want to talk about this. Let's just pretend it never happened like we agreed. Okay?"

"Just listen to me first," he begged. "What I'm trying to say is, it was nice getting off and not having to deal with some crazy chick before or after. It seemed, to me, at least, that you were having a good time helping me out. That's not your fault, I mean, man, ladies just love sucking this thing for some reason, so that's my bad too. So if I liked it, and you liked it, why not just keep doing it? It's not gay shit if we're not gay. And we're not gay, dude. I mean, this isn't going to be, like, an all the time thing," he continued, "I'm still gonna have girls coming in here and I'm gonna make sure you get some action too so you don't have to feel like you're being left out, you know?"

John was not a skilled debater, nor had ever demonstrated any kind of aptitude for articulation and though his argument was both circular and rambling, it impressed me. Why deny ourselves something we both liked just because it was awkward? As long as we were secure in ourselves, we shouldn't have to worry about what the things we liked to do could mean about us. "Okay," I said simply.

"Okay," he repeated, a smile creeping across his face. "So, you know, just every once in a while, you want to... do what we did?"

I nodded.

John let out a large breath and his small smile grew to beaming. "So, Is there, like, a respectful period I've gotta wait, or....?" His tone was light and playful.

"Whip it out," I said awkwardly, regretting the words as soon as I spoke them. Despite the understanding we had come to, the exchange still felt too weird.

He stripped off his pants, this time leaving his t-shirt on. "I won't try and tell you how to do it this time. So you play around and have fun with it and I'll just go along for the ride, okay? Or do you want me to tell you to do stuff?" He asked.

I thought about it for a moment. I didn't know how I felt about being told what to do, but at the same time I didn't want to feel like the whole experience was on me. "Just tell me if you like what I'm doing," I settled on.

He nodded and slid his erection out of his boxer-briefs then leaned back on the couch, shutting his eyes tightly. His cock was flaccid this time; three inches of meat setting on top of his balls instead of a firm seven inches, likely a result of our stumbling conversation. I took a hold of it and began stroking up and down the shaft, similar to how I had started during our first encounter, but instead of waiting for him to ask I slipped the head of his cock into my mouth immediately, earning an exhaled moan from John.

I washed the helmet of his manhood as it grew in my mouth and before long I was greeted with the familiar taste of his precum. Once again I began to bob my head on his cock. John has invited me to play around, but I really didn't know what else to do. I wasn't a stranger to blowjobs thanks to the late night visits he had arranged for me to pay the rent, but I hadn't really been paying attention to what those girls were doing as much as how it made me feel. At that moment I wished I had watching them.

The only thing I could think to try was deep-throating, but it turned out to be a little advanced for me. I tried to push his cock into my throat like the girls in porn videos do, but I just couldn't do it. As soon as the head touched the back of my mouth I felt like I had to pull it out immediately or I would gag. "Oh, just a little deeper, a little deeper baby," I heard him moan at one of my better attempts but I had to give up. I considered apologizing and offering to try again another time, but I didn't want to ruin the fantasy for him. I could tell by the way he called me baby that he was imagining one of his female friends between his knees, not me. I was quite fine with, even relieved by, that fact.

The first time I had gone down on John it had felt so natural, but that second time I couldn't help but feel like I was doing an awful job. Maybe it was just that I wasn't trying to impress him that first night and didn't spend much energy watching his body language, but that night I could tell I was missing the mark. As many sounds of frustration came out of him as pleasure.

Unwilling to completely fail, I phoned in the rest of the blowjob, sliding the top half of his cock in and out of my mouth like I had the night before until I felt his body tense. This time, he gave me a warning. "Oh God," he moaned, "I'm gonna cum."

There was a part of me that very badly wanted to swallow his cum again, but I fought it. That was too far. I grabbed a dirty sock from nearby on the floor and wrapped it around the head of his cock. I stroked his shaft as his muscles contracted, shooting his load into the fabric.

Part of me wanted to ask him how I did, but decided against it. He had gotten off and that should have been all that mattered. After all, I had heard there was no such thing as a bad blowjob. Still, I wanted very much to be good at it for some reason.

"So, um," he stuttered as he pulled his pants back on. "If, you know, when I-" he cut himself off. "Is there something you want me to say, you know, when I want one of these, or do you want to initiate it, or...?" Despite the awkwardness of his speech he didn't suffer from the blushing and fear of eye contact that had gripped me since earlier in the afternoon.

"Just ask, I guess," was my reply. The fact that he seemed to be making plans for our next encounter gave me further reassurance that I hadn't performed too badly.

"Yeah, that makes sense," he laughed shyly. "Um, do you want to play something?" He didn't wait for my answer, he just picked up a controller and fired up the XBOX. I was relieved to not have to talk anymore. Ten minutes later we were playing co-op in some survival horror game and blowjobs were the last thing on our mind.

I went to bed first that night. I hadn't slept very well and though I had been fairly successful at not worrying myself about such grand questions as the state of my sexuality or what kind of changes this new series of events would make to my friendship with John, I was still both physically and mentally exhausted. I fell asleep nearly as soon as I hit my pillow.

A pounding on the wall woke me up. It was coming from John's room. "John?" I called in the general direction of the thin wall.

"Hey," he yelled back, "come here."

I wiped the sleep out of my eyes and made my way unsteadily out the door and around the corner into my roommate's bedroom.

"Hey," John said again as I walked through his door. "I've got this morning wood for you to take care of," As he spoke, he slid the blankets off his body, revealing not only his nudity, but the thick erection between his legs. "Get down on your knees and take care of this bad boy, will ya?"

I was equal parts excited and horrified by the question. Not even twelve hours had passed since the last time I went down on him, and we'd agreed that he would ask me in the future, not tell me, but staring down once more at his bare manhood I felt drawn to it. I dropped to my knees at his bedside as he got into a seated position at the edge.

"This time you're going to do it my way," he told me. I could hear the grouchiness in voice. "Stroke my cock with your hand while you suck my balls first, get them all warmed up so I can shoot a nice full load."

Last night I thought it would be awkward to be told what to do, but after what I felt was a mediocre performance I wasn't upset at being given direction. I did as he asked, taking the firm weight of his cock into my right hand. His erection felt harder in my hand than usual, and I enjoyed pumping it in my fist as I lowered my face to his testicles.

John's balls were larger than mine, sagging low under his manhood. At least a day out of the shower they smelled musty and sweaty and as I collected them into my mouth the taste that hit my tongue was similar to, but not as pleasant as, the taste of his cock. I didn't mind though. That's not what this was about. I slid my tongue around each testis, then sucked on them gently in turn. Hands gripped my hair firmly, a sign that my roommate was enjoying the treatment.

"Yeah baby," he mumbled down to me. "Hum on those nuts."

The request almost made me laugh, and I would have thought it was a joke if it hadn't been done to me before. One of John's girls had made foreplay with me by taking my testicles into her mouth and, for lack of a better word, humming a low, bass-full tone. I did my best to emulate the maneuver, feeling my vocal chords vibrate through my throat to my lips and into his balls.

He let out a breath and repositioned himself slightly on the bed, leaning back on his hands. I felt a drop of precum hit my forehead and I knew what I wanted to do. I slipped his sack from my mouth and took his leaking head into my mouth, savoring the taste of his masculinity.

"That's a good girl, suck that cock," he moaned as I made the transition. I tried to ignore what he was saying, knowing that he was picturing a woman going down on him, but the words made me blush. He let me work for a minute before putting a hand on the back of my head, pushing down gently, but firmly. I tried to resist when his cockhead reached the back of my throat, but he kept pushing, adjusting his force to match my resistance. "You're going to take it all this time, baby girl," he moaned.

I put my hand on his to try and remind him that it was his roommate he was playing with, not another one of his sluts, but when I looked up at him I didn't see what I was expecting to see. Instead of the John from the previous two evenings, whose eyes were clinched shut as he tried to block out the identity of his fellater, he was staring plainly down at me. "That's right, you're going to take every last inch this time." I fought my gag reflex as he continued to push my head down until my teeth were scratching against the base of his cock. His lips twisted into a lecherous smile as he held me there for a moment before letting me back off at the same pace. As soon as his cock was out of my throat and I had taken in a fresh lungful of air he pushed me down again. Up and down he controlled my head, fucking my throat at a painfully slow pace. I became more insistent, trying to pull his hand off my head but he was much stronger than me. "This time, I'm in control," he remarked at the obvious futility of my actions. "If you love sucking my cock so much, you're going to get all you can eat."

Instinct and reason battled it out inside me. The terms of John's and my deal were changing and not necessarily for the better. I respected my roommate, both as a friend and as a man, and wanted to fulfill his desires but only as long as they coincided with my own. I was fine with some of his new assertiveness. I needed to be told what to do and maybe I could appreciate how he was helping me adjust my gag reflex, but I wasn't so foolish as to think that was all that was going on. Even though I was a willing participant, this was not a mutual act. John was using me.

While in every way I liked, or at least didn't overly dislike, the experience, I knew I was opening the door for more to come. Of course, at the time I couldn't nearly imagine what those things would be. And so, quite naively, I made the decision to go along. John was stronger than me, but somehow I still felt like I was in the position of power. After all, it was him that was exposing his most sensitive parts to me.

I tried to avoid eye contact with him, but every time my eyes wandered up I saw him staring down at me. My face burned and I would immediately look away. I couldn't stand the look in his eyes. The laid-back, jovial friend I had known for years was nowhere to be seen.

He continued to control my head. Every rise and fall was one hundred percent by his will but I was proud of myself for controlling the muscles in my throat. Though tears came to my eyes and I came terribly close to choking many times, I retained my composure. His slow pace helped considerably, and he never made any effort to make me move faster. He was relishing each penetration and towards the end I felt like I could feel every vein in his cock as it slid past the opening of my soon-tender throat. I don't know how long he kept that up. It felt like forever.

"Aw, fuck," he grunted, finally, as I felt his balls tense up. He pulled my head off his cock and took his erection in hand, aiming it directly at me. This time instead of cumming in my mouth he shot his load all over my face. The attention I had paid to his balls had yielded obvious results. Four long strands of cum crisscrossed my face before the weaker aftershocks sprayed warm little droplets out at me. I instinctively closed my eyes, measuring the volume and consistency of it by sensation alone.

When his orgasm winded down he pushed my head back down on his cock and I took it into my mouth obediently. "Much better. That's how bitches take their loads. They don't wipe them on a fucking sock." The words sent a chill up my spine. Immediately after our first two sessions John had been finished with me and just as eager to move on to something else as I was. He had never wanted to dwell on the act, nor had he ever once, since I had met him, used the word bitch to refer to anyone but the girls he spent two nights or less with.

I froze, lost in that thought with the cock in my mouth but didn't realize it until he slid back on the bed, withdrawing himself from between my lips, and climbed back under his blankets. He didn't say anything after that, just turned his back to me. I continued to sit there for several minutes until I heard the soft sound of snoring.

I stood in the shower for twenty minutes, letting the water run over my face. I was absolutely humiliated. What kind of a monster had I created in John? What kind of thing had I turned myself into? I wanted to run back into the room, wake him up, and force a conversation but I didn't. I washed my body, though nowhere near as thoroughly as I washed my face, and once again snuck out to work before my roommate rose from his slumber.