The Roomie

Okay, I know it was a stupid thing to do, but I just couldn't hold back any longer. This was the one chance I might ever have, and I wasn't in the mood for passing it up.

Let me explain, I share a house with a guy who's been a friend for a couple of years now. We thought moving in together would be a great way to cut costs. But after a few months, we were beginning to get on each other's nerves. I had the "eight-to-five" at the office kind of job. He had the "six-to-three" at the jobsite (wherever that may be from week to week). This meant that when I would come in from a long day, he would already be home with the stereo up loud while he was showering and getting ready to go out to his favorite bar.

He was also a terrible slob. I'm no Felix Unger, but he was definitely the Oscar Madison of this Odd Couple. His clothes were all over his room - on the bed, the dresser, the window, everywhere. I had been in his room a few times and found where he kept the liquor and dirty magazines, but for the most part I stayed clear. I had never seen any bugs or heard anything, but I could just "feel" them there.

I might also mention that he was about 300 pounds. Now to some of you, you might think, "Hey, I'm 300 pounds and I've worked out to carry it well. "That's fine for you. But he was just under six feet tall and he carried most of it around his middle, the rest around his ass. Complete the picture with a guy who sprouts a full beard in under a week and you've got a picture of my roomie.

When we first moved in together, I just thought of him as a friend with a few quirks. At first they didn't bother me, after all, I've got a few quirks too.

Quirk number one is I find myself sexually attracted to men bigger than myself Okay maybe that's two quirks, but being "sexually challenged" and just over 120 pounds at 5'5", it's hard to find guys my size and smaller who turn me on. I've met a couple who tried, but nothing ever became of it. Even when we moved in, I didn't think about him sexualy. The more difficult I found it to live with him, the more interested in him I became.

Our hallway is situated so that when he would walk from the bathroom while I was watching television, I could watch him all the way down the hall. More than once, he held his towel in his hand instead of trying to cover himself as he had done when we first moved in. Not having seen such a large guy naked before, I was impressed with the size of his crack. It seemed to go farther up his back that I thought was necessary. I guess that's why plumbers always tend to show theirs to everyone. The rolls of were lightly covered with the same black hair that thickly covered his belly and chest. His butt, however, was almost completely hairless. Friction, I supposed.

One evening while he was drying off from his shower, I stole a peek through the window (which he kept open to keep the fog off the mirror) and I almost got a chance to see his dick. More and more I just wanted a look at it. It must be huge, I assumed from the size of the rest of him. But before he turned to face my direction and give me the view I was looking for, he called my name and asked what I was cooking. I hurried back inside and told him it was pizza and asked if he wanted any. He said he did closed the door again. Damn! Now my cock was hard and I had to act like I was still worried about food.

Things like this just kept happening. There would be almost a chance for me to catch a glimpse of it, but then something would happen and I'd miss it. My fantasies began working over time. I couldn't stand the thought of spending another day in the same house as him, but then I'd imagine him coming in from work on my day off and somehow we'd get to doing something. Maybe he'd forget to pull one of his porno videos out of the VCR and I'd "accidently" turn it on. At first he would try to cover up what, but I'd explain that I was interested in it, too. So we'd both sit there watching it.

He'd probably be the first one to reach into his pants and start rubbing himself... I had caught him doing it once before when he hadn't heard my car drive up. And he'd probably invite me to do the same if I wanted so we could jack off together. But, of course, I would have other things in mind. As he begins to pull his dick out of his pants, my eyes would fall onto his thick hardon and just stay there while the movie continued showing some blond's boobs swinging around. As he continued playing with his cock, pulling it up and pushing it down, he would notice me looking in his direction instead of the TV. I'd glance down in measured bashfulness and then look back at him.

He'd say something in his rough voice like, "you wanna put yours down and try this one out?" I'd walk over to him as he would remove his hands from his dick. It would be long and thick and it would follow the curve of his belly up to about where his navel was under his t-shirt. I'd kneel beside his chair and take hold of his massive organ and begin working it up and down as he had before. He would look at me with a sort of smirk that said something along the lines of, "well, look what I've got here," and at the same time stretch his arms over his head and then let his head rest on them.

Neither of us would be watching the movie any more. I'd slowly move his shirt up over his stomach until it got to his armpits, which were still sweaty from working outside all day. I'd rub the fur on his chest and play with his nipples and then get back to work on his cock poking out of his pants. I'd take it in my mouth, sucking on the tip and swallowing all of the precum lube. Then I'd slowly suck down farther until I had taken the whole thing deep within my throat. I'd be doing all the work, he'd be enjoying all the benefits.

But then I'd wake up. Stuff like that never happens. I'm not that good a cock-sucker, and besides, he's as straight as an arrow. In fact, the night I'm getting around to telling you about, he had been to one of the new topless bars in town.

I had only seen him drunk one time, but I'd heard him come in around 2 a.m. and throw-up several times lately. Whatever he was drinking at this new place, it wasn't doing him much good. Due to his size, I knew he could drink most guys under the table, so I knew he had to have been guzzling quite a bit to wind up at the porcelain throne himself. He woke me from a light sleep as he came in and fumbled with the door lock. He never staggered like most drunks do, which is probably why he was able to drive the two blocks home and not kill anyone. He walked to his room and began emptying his pockets. Not long after the last nickel jingled against the dresser, I heard him walking to the bathroom. Yep, he was losing it. Sounded like gallons.

Maybe this was his way of not getting too drunk. Whatever, it was aggravating me that this kept up week after week. As I began to doze back off, I heard him in there one more time coughing up the rest of it. My door was open and I turned to see him in his "loose-fitting" underwear - the ones with the holes in them - walking back to his room. He usually kept his door closed, but this time he just fell on the bed and began snoring within minutes.

Now you've got to understand one thing. Sometimes my pecker and my brain don't work well together. My brain new I needed some much needed sleep. My cock, on the other hand, was poking out the top of my shorts and the elastic band was further massaging it. In situations like these, my dick usually won out. I pulled off my underwear and rubbed my cock a few times.

I began to fantasize about the guy in the next room who was snoring loudly. Yeah, he was in there laying on his bed, out like a light, probuldn't be disturbed if a bulldozer was tearing down the place. Then the idea occurred to me to take a look and see what I could see.

Adrenaline raced through my veins as I peered into his room. The streetlight outside helped out just enough for me to see that he was flat on his back, lying diagonally on his bed with on leg off the mattress and his foot touching the floor. It was just the way he had fallen there. His snoring was in deep breaths. I could smell alcohol in the room, along with the mixture of clean and dirty laundry. I had sniffed his underwear a couple of times and had begun to get infatuated with the smell of his "socks."

I looked at the underwear he was wearing and recognized a particular hole near the left thigh. This was a pair I had stuck in my mouth while jacking myself off on his bed one day. The smell just wasn't enough, I wanted the taste, too. I remembered them being kind of bitter tasting, especially the spots that were still moist. I looked at them again. Funny, I didn't know that intoxicated guys could get a hardon. I don't guess I'd ever though about it before, but he had a perky little point pushing his shorts straight up.

I couldn't stop with just observing. My own dick was telling me to touch him. After all, he had been snoring like this for quite a while now and even his alarm clock would blast for a few minutes every morning before he'd cut it off. I moved closer to him so that my face was right over his crotch. I lowered my nose to smell what it smelled like fresh. I wasn't sure of the odor I was getting, but as my hands finally worked up the courage to touch his briefs, I realized that he must have urinated on it on one of his trips to vomit.

This pushed me over the edge. Suddenly I wanted him bad and I didn't care what it meant. I gave myself into whatever desire I had. I slowly lifted the elastic band from his stomach, careful not to pull any hairs, and released his cock to fall flat against his belly. It was a little bigger than my six and one-half inches, probably seven to eight, but it was slightly thinner than mine. "Good thing" I thought to myself, "the one I had imagined would have gotten between my lips in real life." I pulled it down until it was under his scrotum and I let his balls hold it for me while I took his dick in my left hand.

I began rubbing up and down the length of it, though trying not to rub the head too much. That might awaken him - yeah, right. With my right hand, I decided to see how deep his navel really was. I had poked at it in fun occassionally, but through his shirt I was never able to tell how far in it went. My finger sunk in until about the second knuckle.

Before I began sucking his dick, I started thinking a little clearer. What if he has AIDS? I knew I was clean, but I didn't know who, or what, he may have been fooling around with. Instead of sucking his dick, I decided I would tongue his navel. I kept jacking on his dick as I moved my tongue in and out of his belly button. All around the sides a couple of times, then down deep. He smelled fresh because he had showered just a few hours ago. I kind of wished he was hot and sweaty, but hey, you take what you get.

I knew better than to begin too many things, but I did want a chance to see his nipples close up. Before moving from his belly, I made sure his breathing was still keeping the same deep rhythmic time. Satisfied that he was still quite asleep, I eased his dick back down and moved to where I could kiss his nipples. The hair covering them was as soft as the hair around his navel. They were wide with tiny points in the center and I put my mouth over one completely. I tongued the point up and down, back, and just enjoyed the smell of his cologne and the feel of his warm breast in my mouth. I knew I couldn't reach over him to the other one, so I returned my attention to his crotch.

Again, I picked up his penis. It strained against me a little and, as I looked at it, the head grew larger and then smaller, as if he were stretching it himself. I looked up again and saw his eyes still closed, his mouth still open as he sucked all the air in the room into and then then blew it out of his body. Even that thought made me horny, realizing that probably all of the air I was now breathing had been inside him. Hmmm...

I put my face at the base of his dick so I could smell his balls. The urine mixed with the cologne mixed with the natural odors of a man's crotch. I pushed my nose farther in until it was touching the scrotum. I pumped the dick up and down as I rubbed my face into his ball sack. I could feel the precum oozing out of my own dick as I started moving faster. Before long, I forgot what I was doing and just started whacking away at his meat and running my tongue back and forth under his balls. When it ocurred to me what I was doing, I stopped instantly.

Something in the room had changed.

I listened, but didn't hear anything. And then I knew what was different. He had stopped snoring. I just sat there, frozen and out of sight behind his belly, still cluthing his raging hardon. It felt like hours before I got up the courage to look at his face. When I did, I saw him looking right back at me. He wasn't mad or upset. He just called my name and asked if it was me. I answered and said it was. "What are you doing in here?" he asked in the same calm, but confused tone.

"Nothing. Sleep walking, I guess. Sorry." I couldn't figure out how I was going to get out of this one. What if he asks why I'm holding his dick in my hand? And not only that, why I'm naked.?

"You realize that that's my dick in your hands, don't you?" he said a little more sternly.

"Uh, yeah." Don't say anything more. Don't make it worse than it might be. "Didn't you even think about what kind of diseases you might give me?" He demanded. "Hey, I'm clean! Doctor said so!" I objected releasing his dick from my grasp. It flopped back on his belly and caused a wave of flesh to eminate from the spotit landed. "Well, so am I, and I want to stay that way. Understand?" "... yeah." I said sheepishly, as I turned to leave the room.

"Hey!" he said, making me turn back around. He looked down at his boner, still ozzing precum. He paused a few moments, and pushed his underwear farther down both legs until he was out of it. He then centered his body on the bed with his legs spread apart. I wasn't sure what he was doing until he looked at me with that smirk, stretched his arms and placed them under his head.

What do you know, maybe stuff like that does happen after all.