Roommate

The day I got my roommate assignment for college I was joking around with my best friend and saying, "Hmm. I wonder if he's cute. I wonder if he's bi or gay? Wouldn't that be interesting?" My friend laughed and shook his head. Yet I wondered.

After we moved in, much to my surprise I found he was really cute, a nice surfer blondie, about 5'8", a tanned body with fine blond hairs on his chest, legs, and arms, he liked to run and swim; bitable ass; boxers, not briefs; me, 5'6", broad-shouldered, summer-dark, athletic, square-jawed, smooth, cute, short cropped hair this side of spiky, your typical west coast Chinese American boy. I watched him for a few days out of the corner of my eye, we made small talk on and off as we dashed around to place classes and buy books and get registered. I was kinda getting a nice vibe off him, he was a nice boy, well-mannered, quiet, with good taste. One day we had a Sunday off, nothing going on, asked him to come shopping with me at the local mall, picked up some clothes, ate dinner and cleaned up.

Afterwards, I was lying in bed, kinda horny since I'd been with this cute guy all day. Then he comes back from the shower in just a towel around his waist, with kind of a thick tent where it should be. I watched his smooth lean body move as he pulled a pair of boxers on under the towel. Sometimes it's just nice to watch. And he was very watchable. Since it was a long day, I said, "Maybe we'll call it an early evening. is that okay?" I peripherally noticed him watch me peel my t-shirt off and sweatpants off.

In the near total dark, lying there under the covers, tracing and pinching my nipple silently, I asked, quietly, "Sooo. . . what kind of girls do you like?"

"Ohh, pretty much the same as anyone else. . .long legs, nice ass, nice breasteses. You?"

"Yeah. . . I guess I don't really have a preference. I like personality. I like to be turned on in my mind."

"Uh huh. and . . . what turns you on?" Uh oh. Trouble on the rise. Which I wasn't expecting actually.

"Um." Gulp. "Weellll . . . I like all kinds of things. I like giving. I like receiving. I like to feel someone else's flesh sliding against mine. I like to be taken sometimes. Other times I like to take." I swear I could hear my pounding heart in my voice.

"Hmm. That sounds very general. . . " I thought I heard the sound of sheets moving, sliding against smooth flesh in the bed across the room. "Maybe you could be more . . . specific?"

*You fucker.* I fumed silently. *You're turning me on.* My cock was already unfurling, becoming thick, curling towards my belly-button, where the head would nestle. The tip beading wet, heart pounding. How did I get so hot so quickly? I shifted a bit and licked my suddenly dry lips. "Umm. Weeeeelll. I, uh. I kinda don't mind feeling hands slide across my back. . . I like the feeling of someone kissing and licking their way down my spine. And someone turning me over and kissing me down my neck. Kissing and sucking on my nipples. Maybe working their way down my tummy. That kind of thing. . . "

Again that sheets sliding sound. And I think I heard a tiny slick, wet sound. "Uh huh. . . and what else?" And, god, that voice. That voice was like velvet wrapped around my cock. I spread my legs, reached down into my boxers and cupped my heavy, loose, full sac, squeezed the base gently.

"Ah. I don't, uh, really care who that person is, per se?" I didn't mean for that to come out as a question. "I just like sexy people. They could be a girl. Or a boy even." Pause. "Mm. Have you ever been with another boy?"

Another pause. In a quiet voice, he said, "Yeah, once, last summer, I was working at a cafe and there was this guy. . ."

At this point I was on my back, knees thrown out wide to both sides, both hands under my boxers, one cupping my silky balls, one wrapped around my cock, squeezing it, slowly working the skin up and down, forcing thick wet tears out the top, wetting the top of my boxers. If the lights were on, he'd see me, looking over at him, gently molesting myself under the covers. . . begging him with my eyes to watch me jerking my hard, thick cock, to lick me all over . . . to do naughty things to me. And I didn't care if he or anyone else was looking. I wanted to fuck and be fucked by my roommate.

There was only one way this night would end, at this point.

"Mm hmm . . . . did you like it?"

"Um. Yeah," he said whispering. I looked over. My eyes had adjusted to the dark, so I could kinda see a shadow of fidgeting, a gently rhythmic motion under the sheets in the grey-blue dark. I also heard him gasp. "Yeah, I really liked it."

"And . . . what do you think? Would you like do it again?" We were both breathing heavily at this point.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so." Pause. "I'd like to." Gasp. Little grunts. Him. Me.

"Maybe -- maybe you should come over here then."

I saw, but more heard him throw off his covers. I heard him pick up a glass of water, take a drink, put it down and then, I saw his shadow move towards my bed, I felt him lay down gently, solidly beside me, in the space I'd made for him. I draped my smooth body over his, my smooth, muscled leg over his solid, substantial leg, his surprisingly coarsely hairy thigh with those fine, unbleached blond hairs I'd watched for the last week. I let my hand move up his chest to his jaw, he responded by putting his hand behind my head and pulling me towards him, my waiting, luscious, hot mouth and tongue to his.

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