My Gay Ex-Roommate Pt. 01

Alan and I were like the original Odd Couple. He was sloppy, disorganized and never seemed to plan ahead; I was a neat freak and kept my life well-organized. He was tall and skinny; I was short and stout. When we met at adjacent desks in a cubicle farm, we became fast friends, which continued even when I moved onto a better job. The fact that I was straight and he was gay never really mattered much.

In fact, that was the last thing on my mind when we became roommates. I was just getting out of a fairly long-term live-in relationship and I needed a new place on the quick. Alan lived in a big apartment on the ground floor of a century-old house. It was spacious enough, with bedrooms on opposite ends of the long central hallway. "So your sensitive ears won't be shocked when I have boys over," he said, matter-of-factly.

"Or when I have girls over," I responded.

He gave me a long, mock-comedic stare. "Yessss... I admit that's a possibility. Though you've turned into a real pussy since Denise dumped you."

I tried to look offended, but that hit close enough to the mark that I couldn't muster much outrage.

In fact, his fuck-buddies were never a problem. He was reasonably discreet about things, and except for the occasional creak transmitted through the old walls I never heard anything. His house-keeping, however, was another matter entirely. It didn't take long before he was driving me crazy with his dirty plates left unwashed on the counter (or in the living room) and I was driving him crazy with my insistence on maintaining a clean place.

The porn nights probably came about because we needed a peacemaker. One Saturday night, when I assumed Alan would be out late partying, I was settled in the living room, watching Netflix on my laptop. After my movie was over, a persistent ache sent me looking for a different sort of filmed entertainment, and I was soon lost in a porn vortex, quickly losing track of time.

Alan returned home unusually early, and with my earphones on, I didn't hear him come in. I'd been clutching at my cock through my pajama pants, but at least I was generally presentable when I heard him laughing over my shoulder.

"—t's that? Geez, she looks an awful lot like Denise," I heard Alan saying as I pulled off my headphones. My body didn't know whether to curl up or try to flee, so I ended up paralyzed in place for a couple seconds before I could flip the screen shut.

"Uh, sorry," I muttered, trying to compose myself. "I didn't hear you come in. I didn't mean to..."

Alan laughed. "Geez, bud, no big deal. I'm not your mom or anything. You know that I watch porn too."

He sat down beside me. "But not like that stuff. Let me see more!"

Our normal repartee had come back. "Really? There's terrible things in this, like vaginas."

"I do not get vaginas. But c'mon, let's see it."

A little amused now, I re-opened my laptop and the video started back up. A skinny woman was getting it from both ends from two guys.

"She does look like Denise!" Alan said in a teasing voice.

"Look, I like redheads, okay?"

"And I like cocks like that," Alan responded as it cut to a close-up of one of the guys pounding the woman's pussy.

The clip continued, along with our commentary back and forth. When it finished, Alan said, "let's watch another one." By that route we spent about an hour going through different clips. Because of Alan's commentary I spent way more time than I ever would thinking about the guys' cocks. And then, about 45 minutes in, Alan said, "here, my turn, let me pick one." So he navigated to a website I'd never heard of and soon we were watching a gay porno.

Weirdly, after going on Alan's dick parade, this didn't seem that much different, it was just a guy getting fucked up the ass now instead of a woman. In the middle of this parade of stuff it seemed no less weird... or arousing. Though when Alan turned to look at me, asking, "so do you like this?" I just kinda shrugged back.

Strangely, the whole thing was more a fun buddies-bonding thing instead of an awkward sexual thing, and the next Saturday night, Alan stayed in and we did the whole thing again. We made popcorn and traded riffs as we watched a couple hours of porn, probably about two-thirds straight with some of his picks mixed in.

Given that we were at each other's throats otherwise over how the place was being kept, this probably saved our friendship. And, a few weeks in, when Alan suggested that we might as well jerk off while watching the clips together, it just seemed like a natural thing to do. When we started, Alan caught me looking at how large his cock was at full erection - from my own obsessive measuring, I knew I was just shy of six inches, and he was at least an inch-and a half longer than that, and maybe that much thicker, too. "This is what keeps the boys coming back for more," he said, and we both laughed and went back to watching a gang-bang clip he'd selected.

For the next couple months, that became our regular routine. We never really explicitly talked about the fact that we were both jerking off beside each other. And then, as it slowly turned into a contest to see who could stay on the edge for the longest, we never really talked about that either. Which is good, as I would have been in for some serious razzing - Alan could almost always hold out for longer than me, and usually came after watching me blow my load.

One Saturday night, Alan did go out, and I felt a little hurt. I went to bed early, and when I heard him come in, I realized he wasn't alone. After waiting for a while for him and whoever he'd picked up to settle in, I found myself creeping down the hallway to stand outside his door. I stood there and listened, and the sounds from within connected in my mind to the videos we'd been watching. I knew Alan was a top, so I could assume it was him making the grunting, thrusting noises, and his partner whimpering as he was getting fucked. Somewhat to my surprise, I was ragingly hard, and I found myself jerking off as I listened. I stroked as quietly and slowly as possible, and when I could tell Alan was coming, I came in my hand, too. I crept back to my room and slept soundly.

The situation wasn't built to last, and as time went on Alan and I were driving each other crazy. It got to a point that we realized that if we wanted to stay friends, we couldn't be roommates. We were both doing well at our jobs, and Alan assured me he'd be fine having the place to himself again, so I ended up with my own place on the other side of town, close to my work.

For the first couple months, we still hung out together on Saturday nights, and it was fun again without the domestic squabbles. And it just seemed perfectly regular that we'd watch porn together and jerk off.

After that, a couple big projects came my way, and I switched into heavy work mode. On Saturday nights I was just wiped, and I mostly wanted to recover and sleep and not do anything else, so our hanging-out time decreased by quite a lot. We kept telling each other we'd get together soon (Alan took to sending me ironic texts quoting "Cat's in the Cradle") but we didn't see much of each other for a season.

* * * * *

As a peace offering (and because I did miss hanging out), I sent Alan a message: "Can't really do Saturday night... how about I come catch some football on Sunday?" And he agreed, so I found myself back at his place for the first time in a few months.

Just as I was letting myself in (I still had my old key), there was a strange guy on his way out. He gave me a sort of strange smile and a nod as he went past me. And when I got to the living room, Alan looked a little surprised to see me, as if he had forgotten we'd made plans together.

In an evident effort to impress me, though, the place was far cleaner than I thought it'd be (the previous couple times I'd been over it was turning into a real dump) though he was quick to disavow me of any ideas like that: "it turns out guys run screaming when you bring them back to a filthy hovel," he explained.

"Like your buddy that was just leaving?" I asked, cocking me head toward the front door.

"Ah, he was a friend that just dropped by," Alan said. He put on a football game, and we started chatting, but he seemed a little distracted. I was going to ask, but I figured he'd bring it up sooner or later.

"I'm going to go grab a beer," I said, as the game hit halftime.

"Shit! That's what it was! I knew I was supposed to do something," Alan said. He stood up. "Y'know what? I'm gonna run over and get us some now."

I nodded as he pulled on his shoes and headed out. I flipped through channels for a few minutes, then decided to go grab a snack. Back in the kitchen, I grabbed some chips then got lost for a minute, absorbed in all the particular little sounds of this old house that I had been used to... the sounds from the alleyway outside, the hum of the half-broken fridge, the rattle of the radiator, someone sneezing, the...

Someone sneezing?

It sounded like it had come from my old bedroom, just past the kitchen. Surely Alan didn't have someone over? Maybe that's why he was acting distracted. But who would they be back here?

Curious, I walked out of the kitchen, The door to my old bedroom was half-open, so I leaned in for a look. I saw the naked guy tied to the bed and...

Naked guy tied to the bed?!

Now surprised as much as anything, I pushed the door open and stepped in. The guy noticed me and gave me a nervous half-smile.

"What... what are you doing here?" I asked.

"I answered the ad?" he replied, an upturn of his voice at the end making it sound like a question.

I had no fucking clue what he was talking about, but the organized part of my brain reminded me maybe I shouldn't let on to the guy.

"Yeah, okay," I said, trying to find a way to get him to give me information without it sounding I had no idea. "But why?"

He looked thoughtful for a second. "I guess I like the feeling of not being in control," he said. "Alan said he'd screen the guys who came over, so it seems safe."

I guess that explains the guy who was leaving when I arrived, I thought to myself. I stepped closer to the bed, looking more closely at the guy. He was silent while my eyes traveled up and down his body. He had leather cuffs around his wrists and ankles, and a rope went through the metal loop on each, securing him to the bedposts.

He was in his early 20's, I'd say. Solid body, but not a gym type. And a regular, circumcised cock that... that twitched when he noticed me looking at it. That in turn lead me to stare at it for longer, and as I did, he started to get hard.

"Have you... ever done this before?" I asked.

He shook his head. "My old boyfriend brought guys home with him a couple times. And then he watched while the guy fucked me. That really turned me on a lot. One time, one of the guys tied me up, so I thought of that when I saw the ad."

I was feeling a little dizzy, and I realized I was still looking at his cock. Not sure what to do with myself, I sat down beside his outstretched form on the bed, and half-turned toward his face. "So, what did the last guy do?" I asked, trying to just keep the conversation going.

"Ah, he just got on top of me and shoved his cock down my throat, so I sucked him off. I wish he would have played with my body a little, but I guess the point is I don't get to pick what I do."

Played with his body a little. I realized my heart was beating fast. Here I was, sitting beside a naked guy who was tied to the bedposts, who couldn't do anything if I... touched him.

If I touched him. The words echoed in my mind. It felt hot and stuffy in the bedroom. I swallowed and cleared my throat. The room was silent for a few seconds. I pulled back from the half-twisted position I was sitting in, and as I turned away from his face, the corner of my eye caught his lower body. Without thinking, I twisted toward his feet. I looked up and down his legs and then... and then, at his cock, now right beside me. Right there.

Without thinking, I reached out and rested the tips of my fingers of the flat of his stomach above his cock. His body tensed below me, then relaxed. He was shaved bare, and his skin felt smooth and soft as my fingers began rubbing around the base of his cock.

There was no stopping now, and my fingers ran softly up the length of his shaft. I heard him exhale, and I had to remember to breathe, too. Then my hand gripped his shaft, touching - feeling - another man's cock for the first time.

It was unbelievably warm. And soft, but firm. So very familiar from all the times I had touched my own cock. But totally different, too. It felt weird to be stroking a cock - and indeed, without noticing I had started stroking it - without receiving all the pleasurable feedback that normally accompanies it. I had to infer that the guy liked it from the way his body tensed and relaxed, from the quickening of his breath, from the way I could feel his cock getting even harder under my grip.

Even without the usual pleasure I was used to, it felt amazing to be stroking another man's cock. It felt so perfect in my hand, so warm, so right. My strokes sped up a bit, and when the guy moaned, I remembered to slow down again - I wanted to prolong this... not for his pleasure, but for mine. I wanted this moment to last, and last, and last...

But it couldn't. Obviously I was doing the right thing, as suddenly I felt the guy's cock give a powerful surge... and then my hand was warm in a different way as his semen shot out onto my fingers and his belly. He moaned as I kept stroking him while the orgasm continued, and then subsided. Then I slowed down, and stopped as I could feel his cock beginning to wilt already, another curious sensation.

I made him come! The words echoed in my head. I looked at my hand, with a splash of his semen trickling down it. Once more, without thinking, I moved it to my mouth to lick the fluid off. When it touched my tongue, I had a weird jolt all the way from my tongue to my solar plexus as my mind realized I was tasting another man's come. It was salty, and bitter and... I wanted more.

My hand reached back down to his stomach, and I scooped up as much of his milk-juice as I could gather and I raised it to my mouth. Now that I was deliberately gathering up his semen it tasted stronger, and weirder, and totally wonderful. Oh, fuck... I want more of this!

"I'm sure there's plenty more where that came from," Alan said, as he stepped out from the doorway where he'd been watching.

Once again, my body was stuck between tensing up and being paralyzed. "Did I say that out loud?" was the first thing I managed to gasp out. Followed a few seconds later by, "how long were you watching?"

Alan walked over to stand beside me. "Since about when you started jerking him off. It's about time, right? I could tell ever since we started watching porn together that you were eager to get your hands on a cock."

I felt my cheeks blushing, and I didn't know what to say.

Alan walked over to the bedposts at the guys feet. "That got me so horny, I have to get my rocks off now, too. Stay where you are," he said to me. He undid the strap at the guy's left foot and pushed his leg up so the front of it was against his belly. then he reattached it beside his left hand. Working around where I was sitting, he did the same with the guy's right leg, and now his butt was pulled up, his asshole exposed right beside me.

Alan was undoing his pants. He tugged them down and quickly dropped his boxers and I saw that indeed, my handjob action had turned him on. He grabbed a condom from on top of the dresser, tore it open and quickly rolled it down his erect cock. Then he grabbed some lube and squeezed it on the guy's asshole. There were only wet, slurping sounds in the room as he slowly pushed a finger into the guy's sphincter and began working it in and out. Then he pushed a second finger in, and I could see him pulling them apart to stretch the guy's hole open.

"This is what you want to see, isn't it?" Somewhat reluctantly, I looked up from my close observation of the guy's asshole to Alan's face. "You want to watch me fuck, don't you?"

I looked down at his fingers again, as they worked their way in and out of the guy's asshole. I looked over to Alan's cock, still rock hard. I nodded.

"Say it," Alan said.

"I want to watch you fuck."

And when I said it, Alan pulled his fingers out and pushed the head of his cock against the guy's asshole.

"Tell me what to do," he said.

I exhaled. "Fuck him. Fuck his ass."

Slowly but persistently, Alan began pushing his cock into the guy's asshole. The guy moaned a couple times as his sphincter adjusted to Alan's length and thickness, but from the way he hunched his hips forward to embrace the invader I could tell he wanted to get fucked.

Once Alan had worked his cock in, he paused, holding it in place. He looked at me. "You too, buddy. I want to watch you stroking while you watch this."

I nodded again and shifted around to undo my pants and fish out my tool, a task made more difficult by the fact it was extraordinarily hard. Once I pulled it out, I twisted around again, and Alan nodded at me. "Let's go."

With that, he started. With very slow but full strokes, he began working his cock in and out of the guy. I was mesmerized, feeling his breathing beside me, and seeing the minute variations in the way his asshole gripped Alan's cock as the fucking began. It was a struggle to stroke myself as slowly as Alan was going, and already a struggle to keep myself from coming. Very slowly, with his hands gripping the guy's ankles, Alan increased the speed of his strokes. Remembering an old trick I'd used with my girlfriends to keep myself from coming too quickly, I focused on counting Alan's strokes... up to a hundred, and still going slowly. Another hundred, and I had to take my hand off my cock. Alan had given the guy another hundred strokes before I dared touch myself again. Another hundred, and Alan was up to a strong and steady rhythm, the guy moaning and gyrating beneath him. Another hundred - and there was no way I could keep up stroke for stroke now - as Alan slowly shifted his weight forward onto the guy, driving his shaft deeper into him.

And then, finally, he was fucking the guy with rapid, piston-like strokes. It was so raw and primal, all I could do was watch, captivated, as the back of my mind counted up past five hundred deep, rutting jabs. For the first time, Alan moaned.

"I'm almost there! Come with me!"

I reached down to start touching myself again as Alan pulled out of the guy, and with one quick motion pulled the condom off. He started beating himself off rapidly, his hand a blur on his tool. At the sight of that, I groaned and ejaculated in my hand. I looked up, and Alan was smiling at me. He kept up his lightning-fast strokes for maybe another thirty seconds before he grunted once more and started spraying a copious load of jizz on the guy below him.

Then there was quiet - no sounds except for our breathing slowing back down. I felt an incredibly relaxed glow throughout my body, as if I had just had the best sex I'd ever had.

That thought echoed in my mind for a moment. Maybe I just did.

After another minute, Alan reached over for a towel and wiped his cock off. He dropped it on the guy below him and went to the head of the bed to undo the straps on the guy's ankles and wrists. The guy spent a minute massaging his limbs before he pulled himself up and used the towel to wipe himself off.

"I think that's all you're getting today," Alan said to him. "So you can go now."