My Room Mate Joe

In the fall semester of my junior year at Dorchester University, I lived on the second floor of Sutterman Hall. Sutterman is a three-story building with all the rooms opening to the outside, and every pair of rooms is joined by a common bathroom shared by four residents.

My roommate had been my friend for some time, but he wasn't the kind of person I would have considered pursuing anything with. Mark was pretty much the cowboy type, and just barely this side of being a 'phobe. Also, I had never told him that I was gay, and since we had to live in the same room for the next four months, I saw no reason that he needed to know about me. So my Kathy Ireland poster went up right next to his Wynonna Judd.

It was the last Sunday night before classes. Mark was at his computer, and I was on the bed with a cigarette watching MAS*H. I could hear the shower running from the adjacent bathroom, and a few moments after it stopped, there was a knock on the door.

"C'min," I muttered. The door opened, and in walked the most beautiful boy I had ever seen.

He had dark blond hair, which was still wet from the shower. He had a slight build, and I could see his nipples pointing through his T-shirt. He was wearing pajama bottoms, and was barefoot. And he didn't look a day past sixteen.

"Hi, I'm Joe."

"Hey. I'm Bryan and uh, this is Mark." Mark waved.

"Is this your first semester?"

"No, we're both juniors. What about you?"

"I'm a freshman, from near Seattle."

"Uh-oh," Mark spoke. "Enjoy this weekend. It'll be your last good time here at Dorchester." I nodded in agreement.

"So, where are you guys from?"

"Winsburg."

"Yeah, and I'm from Georgia."

"You don't have an accent."

"People tell me that. I guess I just never picked one up," I explained. Then I looked back at the TV. At that moment, he pulled up the bottom of his shirt to wipe his mouth. I wanted desperately to look at his body, but I didn't want to LOOK like I was looking. So I extinguished my cigarette instead.

"Oh... can I bum a smoke?"

"Yeah. They're on my desk."

He pulled one out, and found the lighter a few inches away. As he lit up, he said, "I'll see you guys later. I have to make a phone call." He walked back through the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

That night, I lay in bed thinking about Joe. In my mind, I pulled his T-shirt over his head a hundred times. I could imagine his penis growing stiff in my hand. I could almost hear his cries of mixed pleasure and pain as I penetrated his virgin opening.

The next Friday, Mark drove back to Winsburg to pick up some more things for the room. I was getting ready to smoke a bowl and watch Star Trek. I had taken one hit when I saw the light come on from underneath the bathroom door, followed by the familiar sound of urine hitting the toilet. I immediately buried my hand in my shorts. It excited me to think that I was touching my penis at the exact same moment as Joe was touching his. When it stopped, I pulled out quickly, then there was a knock.

"Door's unlocked," I said.

He walked in, with a beer in his hand and a smile on his face. "Are you getting DRUNK!?!" I joked. "I'll tell your MOM!"

He sniffed the air in the room, and said, "Well, what am gonna tell YOUR mom?" He smiled again, and in that moment, I could tell that I had nothing to fear from him. I knew that he had no malice, or any other quality that anyone could dislike.

"Hmm... if I give you some, maybe you won't have to tell her ANYTHING."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I laid a milk crate between the two chairs, and placed the bong on top of it. It was a nice bong, one I had fashioned out of a tequila bottle, a souvenir from a summer party. The bowl was almost full, since I had only taken one hit.

"You put your thumb on the carb in the back, take a hit, and when you're ready, cap the bowl with the lighter and let go with your thumb."

"I know how to do it." And he did, too. We each took several hits, and things began to get strange. At one point, it was my turn, and I moved my whole head up and down on the top of the bong, like I was giving it a blowjob. Joe was trying to hold his hit in, and when he saw me doing that, he lost it in a fit of laughter.

Then we turned out the lights and settled back to watch Star Trek. It was one I had seen before, about a planet where all the inhabitants were of one gender. However, some of them assumed roles of two-sex species, and Riker fell in love with a "female" of this kind.

"I'll bet the gay rights people LOVED this one," I commented when it was over.

"Yeah," he said. "It's a real mind-fuck. I don't know. It's strange. I mean, if I ever saw a guy I was attracted to, I guess I'd think about having sex with him, but since I've never seen one, I guess I can't do it, eh?"

I now knew exactly what was on his mind, as if I were Deanna Troi herself. He was trying to drop me a hint! He had made his move, and now it was MY turn. What I said next would be very important, so I couldn't afford to wreck it.

But what if I was wrong? What if I was only too eager to read in something that wasn't there? What if it was just the pot taking control, whether it was control over him or me or both of us? If I tried to lure him in, and he turned out not to be gay, what sort of humiliation would that cause for him across the whole board, not to mention my own feelings?

I decided to play it cautiously. "I guess that's an OK attitude to have. Hell, I imagine everybody thinks about it at some time or another."

He looked directly at me and said in a very solemn tone: "Do YOU ever think about it?"

The moment was here. Memories came flooding into my mind: the tree house where a neighborhood kid and I showed each other our "goobers"; the furtive glances in high school locker rooms; the first time I tasted my own semen; the hateful graffiti written on the bathroom walls; the excuses for missing the prom; the suicide attempts that no one else ever found out about; the first kiss; the beautiful relationship that couldn't be saved... and now, this: I was lying on a bed with someone who wanted to know me in the same way that I wanted to know him. "Yes. Yes I do," I whispered. "Sometimes I can't think about anything else."

We sat there on the bed, facing each other in the light of the TV. And for all my painful memories, it caused me even more pain to see the look on his face. I knew he was about to cry. I wasn't going to tell him not to... I was too busy trying to keep myself from it.

Then he broke. I took him in my arms. "Why is it all so FUCKED UP?" he demanded. I just sat there with him. I started to cry myself, partly in sadness, but mostly in joy: because in a sea of insanity, the two of us had found each other and won a moment of peace. Whatever would come the next day, I knew that this night would always be with us.

Joe pulled away. He sniffed, and I used the collar of his T-shirt to wipe his eyes. "Hey... Jojo." He laughed, in that way people always laugh when the crying's over. I pulled the T-shirt up further, rubbing his head through it. Then I pushed him down onto the bed, like a rag doll.

"But the TV goes off," I insisted. I took the remote and clicked it off. I didn't want to be in complete darkness, though, so I turned on a light on my desk. Then I pulled my shirt off and went back to the bed.

He still had the shirt halfway off. I grabbed the bottom and pulled up and over. Then I took a moment to see what I had uncovered.

He was scrawny. Not to the point of being bony, but just right for me. He had just the right amount of hair on his chest: enough to call him hairy, but still less than I had myself. His nipples were small, pinkish, and oval-shaped. His stomach was covered by a layer of down, and he had a perfectly-crafted outie bellybutton about as big around as a nickel. A treasure trail led from there to underneath the snap of his jeans, which were still zipped. As I slid one hand up his side, his stomach involuntarily jerked.

"Does that tickle?" I asked. He laughed, and I ran my fingernails up the same path again. He twisted his body away. "My Jojo is ticklish!" I exclaimed, and I bent down on top of him. Feeling his bare torso against mine got me even harder than I already was. He was so much smaller than me, I felt as if I had his life in my hands.

I moved myself lower down on him. "Has anybody ever told you how hot your bellybutton is?" I asked. "Outies are my favorite." He smiled as if to say, "Well, whatever." I pushed my tongue down onto it, rolling my head around and licking a streak back up all the way to his mouth.

"Are you a 'top', or a 'bottom'?" I asked.

"Huh?" He obviously had no idea what I was talking about.

I got off the bed. "It doesn't matter. Tell you what. Get up, get on your knees, and beat on your chest." He obeyed. "Now yell like Tarzan."

"What if somebody hears?" he countered. "What if my roommate smells weed and comes in here?"

I opened my desk drawer, and pulled out my loaded 9mm. I pointed it at the door. Although I didn't think I could ever actually kill anyone, I did know how to use it. He was obviously unsettled by the fact that I had a gun in my room.

"Look, when you're gay in America, you either learn how to take crap, or you learn how to look out for yourself. You really don't have anything to worry about." Then I put the gun away.

He resumed beating his chest, and yelled. "Ah-yah-yah-yah... Yah-yah-yahhhhh." Seeing him doing that while wearing nothing but a pair of denim shorts was really getting me hot. "Okay. Get on all fours, and bark like a dog."

This really puzzled Joe, but he sincerely wanted to please me, so he complied. "Roff! Roff! Row-wow-wow-wow!" Yes, it was silly, but it was really cute, to tell you the truth. I guess you had to be there. At any rate, judging from the bulge in his shorts, it was getting him excited too. "Arrroooooooooooo," he continued, thrusting his head way up.

"Okay, that's enough. I won't make you act like a TOTAL idiot." He sat down at the edge of the bed. I loved the way his skinny stomach folded onto itself when he sat like that. I sat on my knees on the floor in front of him, my serious side taking over. "Joe, I really want to make this a great experience for you. I want to warn you, I can get a little rough sometimes, but I promise you that I won't make you do anything you don't want to."

Then I kissed him for about fifteen seconds (if you don't think fifteen seconds is long, try kissing someone for fifteen seconds). I lowered him back down onto the bed, and began undoing his jeans. I soon found out that he had no underwear on! I found this very exciting. The treasure trail widened to a patch of dark- blond pubic hair. His penis was about the right size for his body frame, about the right size for my mouth.

"Why aren't you wearing any underwear, Jojo?" I asked. "What if you were in a car wreck, and they took you to the hospital and found out you weren't wearing any underwear?"

He giggled, apparently at a loss for an explanation. Maybe he had hoped for an encounter like this. But he couldn't have known how much it would turn me on. I slid out of my own shorts, pulling off the boxers too. My aching cock sprang up from the elastic of my boxers to meet him. He cautiously reached out and for an eternal second, fondled it.

I pushed his hand away. "No. Not yet. I have an idea." I led him into the bathroom, locking the door to the other half of the suite. I pulled back the shower curtain and turned on the water, going through the age-old ritual of getting just the right proportions of hot and cold. I wanted it to be just a little bit hotter than "comfortable", but I didn't want to get scalded. When the temperature seemed right, I turned to Joe and said, "Hop in."

He did, and I pulled the curtain shut behind him. I hurried back to my room, and pulled a tube of lubricant from my desk drawer. Then I went back to the shower, squeezed a glob into my hand, and dropped the tube onto the floor.

"What are you doing?" Joe's voice came from behind the curtain.

"All ready," I replied, and entered the shower with him.

The shower stall felt a LOT more crowded with two people in there. I stood behind him and turned him around, so we were both facing the stream of water. As I was rubbing the lube on my dick with one hand, I ran the other hand down his side and over his thigh. With my lubricated hand, I sent a couple of my fingers through his virgin asshole. Then I laid my throbbing dick against it. I laid my chin over his shoulder and watched the water hit his chest, making the hair slick down. I raised both hands and brushed my thumbs over his nipples. As I watched his stomach push in and out with each labored breath, I thought I might shoot off prematurely. I made a slightly-harder-than-play-bite right at the base of his neck, then I reached down and slowly forced my penis into his ass.

He screamed, in the way that only a teenaged boy can scream. I felt like I should ask him if he wanted me to stop, but instead, I just put one hand over his mouth to muffle his cries. With his eyes shut tight, his face was turning red, and his jugular veins stood out as he screamed against my hand.

I began to pound his ass, and we both groaned with every thrust. Then I took my hand away from his mouth and grabbed the back of his head. I pushed his face directly into the path of the water, and heard his breath cut short. I pushed his head down further, and got all his hair wet.

Then I turned him around and pushed him roughly against the opposite wall. After a few coughs, he sputtered, "Ow, man! You hurt my-", and I covered his mouth again. I reached down with my still-lubed hand and began jacking him off violently, while I took my other arm and held his head against the wall. I nestled my cock back into his crack and continued to drill him, and his howls were erratically interrupted by short insufficient gasps for air. I was getting close now, ready to fill him with everything I had. After four or five loud groans, a mind-bending orgasm rocked me so hard that I felt like I would puke. As for Joe, he was no longer able to support his own weight. He was collapsing against my body, enabling me to lunge even further. I could feel my semen making him even more slippery. I thought I would never stop creaming!

I pulled out and took him to the floor of the stall with me. I crouched low in front of him, and took his cock in my mouth, using my tongue to put as much pressure on it as I could. Then I bobbed up and down on it. After a few moments, he squinted his eyes shut, screwed up his face, and shouted, "Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh holy fuck... Here it comes... Uhhh..... Uhhhh.. AAANNNHHHH... AAAAAAHHHHH... AAAAAHHHHHHHH..."

He grabbed my head with both arms and began bucking wildly. He shot off load after load, cascading down my throat. His screams sounded like pain as much as they did pleasure. He bolted up onto his knees, catching me by surprise and throwing me off balance. I fell back against the shower curtain and landed on my back on the bathroom floor. We both laughed, and then he fell right into me. My mouth was filled with the taste of his spunk, in which I recognized the flavor of coffee and cigarettes. Too tired to move, we both just lay there. We kissed, and the shower kept running.

I don't exactly remember us going to bed, but we must have, since that's where I found myself the next morning, with Joe sound asleep, head on my chest, and his face just a little bit fuzzier than it had been the night before. Coffee seemed like a good idea, but I didn't want to disturb this luscious boy's sleep. I stifled the urge to laugh at the thought of a "cuppa joe".

I knew I had gone too far the night before. I had broken my promise to not do anything to him that he didn't like. I wondered what would happen when he woke up. Would he never want to speak to me again? This could have shaped up to be a very awkward semester. Nevertheless, I could feel his very pronounced hard-on mashed between his body and my left leg.

He began to stir. He raised his head, looked up at me with sleepy blue eyes, and a heart-melting smile came over his face. Then he slumped back down on my chest, still looking at me.

Now I knew everything was alright. "Hey Tiger," I said. "Whaddaya want for breakfast?"

"You," he answered, and disappeared into the sheets.

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written by anonymous