Disclaimer: This story contains hints exhibition, voyeurism, and swinging.
All characters are of legal age.
—1—
The room was lit only by the light of the television playing some commercial he couldn't make out as it was interrupted by the silhouette of a woman. Henry paused in the doorway, paralyzed as watched her silhouetted tits bounce. She hopped up and down on another figure, the sound of flesh-on-flesh barely masked by the T.V.
This wasn't the first time he had walked in on someone having sex; his college roommates were constantly bringing girls back to their closet-like dorm room and not even bothering to warn him until he got an eyeful of a sloppy blowjob — but this was different.
In the few days after graduation, Henry had a rough time finding a job and an even worse time finding a cheap apartment to live in while he searched for one. It shouldn't have been that hard, but no one wanted to room with a jobless 24-year-old that might not be able to pay his rent in a month or two. With three days left until he would be forced out of his dorm and the lingering threat of having to move back in with his parents, Henry posted an ad. The website he used had a bad reputation for weird things happening, and perhaps he should have been warier, but he was desperate.
He wrote a small paragraph about himself, his situation, and posted it. There was nothing for two days. Then, as he was staring at his phone, trying to bring himself to dial his parents' phone number, the notification popped up. PRIVATE MESSAGE from THOMAS D.
His heart raced as he opened the chat message. Thomas's response was plain if a little... off.
Saw your thread. I'm looking for a roommate for my 2/bed downtown apt, 450/month. But I've got a few rules. You up for that?
What kind of rules?
he answered.
Come seen the place tomorrow. I'll leave a key under the rug.
If he were being honest with himself, it sounded like a murder in the making but he was desperate. Looking around at all his things in boxes, he typed back:
You're not a murderer, are you?
Bartender. Close enough, right?
What's the address?
Thomas sent him the address. It was late the next day by the time Henry finished packing his stuff into the car, but thankfully it didn't take long for him to find the apartment. It was located right in the heart of downtown and only a few miles from the firm he had an interview with that Friday. He couldn't believe his luck finding a place so nice. If everything went right and he didn't end up dead in the next hour, it would be too good to be true.
He climbed the stairs to the third floor, found the apartment number and the small silver key hidden under the welcome mat. It felt weird to just walk into the place, so he knocked. No answer. He should have walked away, but his desperate situation kept him there.
"Thomas, it's Henry. I'm coming in," he said as he turned the key in the lock. That was when he was greeted by the T.V. and the sounds of sex. "U-um—"
The silhouette of the woman didn't flinch or slow at the sound of his voice, but the guy who's dick she was riding grunted. "You Henry?"
Surprise took his voice as he tried to look anywhere but the porno in front of him.
"Turn the lights on. The switch next to the door."
Henry spun on his heel — grateful for the moment of reprieve as his jeans had become rather tight — and flipped on the light. He didn't dare turn back around as the couch creaked. "I'm sorry, I can -- I can come back."
"Why would you do that?"
Henry tried to focus on the slow country crawl of Thomas' voice and the distant rush of the highway coming through the open door instead of the knowledge that he had just cockblocked his potential new roommate. "I -- uh, well. You're busy."
"It's nothing." Thomas was standing just behind him now, though there wasn't even a hint of embarrassment in his voice. "I was beginning to think you weren't comin'."
Henry turned slowly, hoping the man had at least pulled on a pair of boxers between the couch and the door, but no. He hadn't. Either Thomas was high out of his mind that he didn't realize his junk was in full view of the open door, or he just didn't care. Henry didn't know which was worse.
He stuck out his hand. "Thomas. Nice to meet you."
"...Henry," he nodded, shaking the proffered hand if only to distract himself from the naked woman still standing in front of the television. She hadn't bothered to cover herself either. What kind of people...? "Are you sure this is a good time? I mean, I don't want to interrupt your" --he laughed nervously, eyeing the woman's curves-- "
good time
."
"What? Aw," Thomas glanced over his shoulder, waving him down. "Look, I like sex." He gestured to himself. "And I hate clothes. You're not like, celibate or anything, are you?"