My Penile Romance

During my freshman year, I decided to rent a room in a house adjacent to campus. Sure, it would've been nice to have the whole experience of living in a dorm. Those were expensive though. Given that I already was borrowing money to pay for tuition and housing, I opted for a less expensive option, so I'd graduate with less debt. The house was old and small and there was only one other room that was currently unrented. The landlord, a college professor who purchased the house as an investment, assured me that my roommate would likely be another university student.

A few months went by during which I had the place to myself. This all changed in the fall when Norman moved in. He was the exact opposite of who I expected as a roommate. We had nothing in common. He was in his mid-thirties, tall, and had very bulky muscles. My thin frame was much smaller than his with his big beefy arms, large, sculpted shoulders, and hard chest. The only part of him that wasn't cut was his gut which protruded a bit. He lacked the six pack, but he was a big and well-muscled dude otherwise. The type of guy you'd suspect to be on steroids.

"Um, can I help you?" I asked with a titled head when I opened the door of my rental house and looked upon him for the first time.

"Sure," Norman said with a knowing grin on his face. "You can unload the back of the jeep for me."

"Oh right, the new roommate," I remarked before blinking. "Are you um... the dad?"

Norman let out a booming laugh. "Did you just call me daddy?" he asked, winked at me, sized me up with eyes, and smirked.

"Uhm, no, nevermind..." I said as I looked away and swallowed.

"It's cool little bro," he said, puffed his chest out, and smiled playfully at me. "Call me whatever you want. The doc said my roomie would be a college brat. But damn, you look like you're still in high school." He extended one of his bulging arms towards me.

The back of my neck tingled unpleasantly, and I felt sweaty suddenly. I hesitated before extending my own hand. It felt so much smaller, and smoother compared to his rough leathery palm. As he squeezed, my eyes watered and I bit my lower lip. It felt like my hand was being crushed. I gasped when he finally let go. His hands felt moist for some reason.

"Things sure changed from when I was growing up," Norman rambled. "I watched so much pro wrestling and Schwarzenegger movies back then. It was a golden age, I swear. Nowadays it's nothing but cape shit and feminism. A damn shame."

I helped Norman unload boxes to his new room next to mine. I spent the rest of the day in my room studying. Throughout the evening I kept hearing manly grunting and the sound of heavy weights being dropped on the ground. It made sense. A guy who looked like that must pump a lot of iron. I wondered how he managed to stay motivated. I was a drama geek in high school, a gamer in my off time, didn't participate in any athletics, and always hated gym.

I tried to just keep to myself but over the next few weeks I kept having strange encounters with Norman. I noticed he was constantly giving me odd lookovers. He'd start conversations bragging about himself all the time. For example, he'd bring up his work as a stevedore at the docks near campus and say things like, "By far, I have the biggest loads of any of the men there." He'd also boast about new lifting milestones he reached, and he'd invite me into his room to watch him lift. The first few times I agreed just to be nice. However, when I was in there, watching him lift heavy weights shirtless with his big muscles, listening to him grunt and breathe heavy, his eyes staring at me and a knowing grin on his face, I would get a strange feeling in my ribs and excuse myself.

I returned from class one day and heard Norman yell out from his room, "Yo, little bro, help me out with a quick spot here."

I swallowed hard, felt my arms tense up, hesitated, and finally I sighed and entered his bedroom. Norman laid down with his back against his weight bench, his beefy hands gripping the bar above him. The older man wore only a skimpy pair of teal boxers. A small electric fan pointed towards the bench whirred. It smelled musky in his room. I walked over and stood next to the bench where Norman's head laid.

Nothing unusual happened during the first set. Norman rested briefly before beginning the next group of reps. As he did so, I looked at the nightstand next to his bed. His expensive scotch was there. The one he bragged had cost him $800. Next to that was a large bottle of lubricant as well as two whisky glasses. I felt the hair on the back of neck stand up. I didn't want to bring it up, however. The last thing I wanted was some awkward conversation with Norman.

During the third set, I noticed a huge erection tenting in Norman's shorts. My eyes couldn't help but be drawn to it. When I looked down at Norman, he had a knowing grin on his face. I noticed his gaze shift from looking to me to his raging boner straining against the tight material of his boxers. I looked back at his boxers before resuming my eye contact with Norman. A relaxed smile crossed his face before he briefly nodded his head at me, lifted the barbell once again, and released a satisfied sigh. "Ok, I'm done," he concluded.

I helped him lift the bar up and set it back atop the weight bench. When he stood up from the bench, I noticed the fat mushroom head of his cock was sticking out of the fly of his boxers. It looked big, girthy and hard, even with the shaft concealed.

Norman covered his mouth with his left hand and remained unnaturally still. "Oops, my bad little bro," he apologized. "Wardrobe malfunction. Could you do me a small favor? So, it's not all awkward like it is now. Just get on your knees and tuck it back in my boxers. C'mon, it'll only take a couple seconds. Go ahead and get on your knees."

"Uhm, I-I've got to go," I said quickly before walking past Norman and out of his bedroom door. As I exited, I noticed Norman's shoulders slump and a grimace cross over his face.

The next time I saw Norman's penis was when I was in my introduction to logic class. I had just finished writing down the proofs from the professor's PowerPoint when my phone buzzed. When I looked down at my phone, I saw an up-close photograph of a man's very large penis. I blinked before recognizing the stubby mushroom head. Norman wasn't just jacked; he was hung like a male pornstar. I quickly exited the text. When I turned around, I could see the two girls seated behind in the row above me were staring at me with large grins on their faces. Fuck, were they smiling because they saw me looking at a fat veiny dick pic on my phone?

The phone buzzed again. I looked at the message which indicated it was from Norman. It read,Sorry little bro! I totally meant to send that to someone else! This seemed too big of a coincidence. Maybe it happened on accident one time. But this is the second time he'd supposedly mistakenly or unintentionally shown me his big veiny penis.

After class, I received another message from Norman,Now that you've seen it though. I'm curious. What're your thoughts, little bro? It's a nice picture, yah? Included with the message was a winking emoji. I did not respond.

When I arrived back at our house, I rubbed the back of my neck, bit down on my lower lip, and sighed. The last thing I wanted was another awkward encounter with Norman. I opened the front door and entered the kitchen.

The first thing I noticed is Norman's expensive scotch sitting atop our tiled, round dining table along with two glasses.

Norman emerged from his room, wearing only a pair of jeans, and with a knowing grin on his face. "Hey little bro," he said as he leaned forward and stared at me with glowing eyes. "You never responded to my text messages. Don't worry, I can explain everything. You see it's actually a lot bigger than it looks in that picture. If you want to come over here, I'll whip it out for you. This something I think you'll want to see up-close and personal."

"Enough with the bullshit," I responded, crossed my arms over my chest, and raised my eyebrows. "Just tell the truth. Why do you keep trying to show your dick to me?"

Norman paused before looking away from me, held up his left hand, and appeared to visually inspect his fingernails. "Ok, you got me," he responded. "Look, you make it sound perverted or something. It's the opposite of that. My intentions here are all above board. You're a young man with a lot still to learn. I can teach you what I've discovered. It's simple. I just want to romance you."

"Uhm, what?" I asked before blinking.

"Women just want to date for status and resources," Norman explained with a nod of his head. "Men are the true romantics. There is nothing purer than a man romancing another man. It's very passionate that way."

"You want to romance me how exactly?" I asked before grimacing, rubbing my chin, and swallowing hard.

"With my penis," Norman responded emphatically, slowly smiled at me, and looked intensely into my eyes.

"Wow..." I said before blinking again. "Uhm, I don't know how to say this. No... thank you? Your penis is nice and big and all. But I don't... like penises? I'm straight. In fact, I have a girlfriend. All this flirting or whatever isn't going to work with me. You should be trying to hook up with guys who are... well, gay."

Norman briefly closed his eyes before taking a deep breath. "There is a difference between hooking up and romance," he responded. "Look, I broke out the good scotch. Let's you and I enjoy a glass together and then I will show you some things you haven't tried before in my bedroom. Your sexuality is irrelevant. This isn't something just for gay men. Straight guys can benefit from it too. Trust me."

"Why are you so focused on me?" I asked as I tilted my head to the side. "There's got to be easier ways for a gay guy to get laid."

"My cellie when I was locked up," Norman explained. "He looked exactly like you. For the few months we shared a cell. We shared many passionate nights together. I romanced him with my penis so many times. He said the same thing you did at first. That he was straight. That's why I told you earlier it doesn't matter. Trust me, I'm an expert when it comes to this."

"Well, wait, if you liked him so much, what happened?" I asked.

"He got shanked," Norman said before sighing. "It was because of a gambling debt. They transferred him to another yard. I never saw him again. After a few months getting romanced by me, the boy was absolutely addicted to cock. He must be with some other guy now. A very happy, lucky man for certain."

"Why were you in prison?" I asked.

"I'm a very passionate man," Norman explained and crossed his arms across his bare chest. "My libido is sky high. There was a... misunderstanding between me and a woman. She exaggerated what happened. Look, I didn't do anything wrong, ok? That was ten years ago. Women are not worth the fucking bullshit. As soon as I realized that my life became much easier."

"I'm sorry that happened to you," I said. I didn't believe him but there was no point in arguing over something I knew nothing about. "But I'm never going to be interested. Sorry. Look, what you've accomplished with your body is impressive." I looked at his slightly protruding stomach. "Maybe cut a little, get toned, and then download a few gay dating apps. I'm sure you'll find lots of guys who will let you romance them or whatever else you want to them."

That night I laid awake in my bed stroking my hard cock. I thought of Norman's offer. There was something appealing about the older man's bulging muscles and confident demeanor. The thought made me uncomfortable. I was attracted to women, not men, right? I popped open my phone and pulled up my usual porn site. I looked at the women in the thumbnails. Every single one of them I wanted to smash. With trembling hands, I switched to the gay version of the site. As I scrolled down, I found myself unaroused. I had no desire to fool around with any of these male pornstars. Norman was full of shit.

For a few weeks, it seemed I had succeeded in getting Norman to stop flirting with me. One day I was working my part-time job at the university computer lab when I received a phone call instructing me to report to the front office. It seemed like I was going to get in trouble for something, but I couldn't think of anything I'd done that would warrant any sort of discipline.

When I arrived at the front office, everyone was staring at me. I swallowed hard and approached the front desk secretary, a fat middle aged woman with glasses. "Uhm, I was told to come over here," I explained.

"Are you Benny Cunnigham?" the woman asked while she looked me over.

"Yes ma'am," I replied as I tapped my foot against the ground.

"Hold on," she said before turning around and bending over. I heard rustling before she emerged holding a large vase holding vibrantly colored flowers. "These were just delivered here for you," she explained.

"Flowers?" I asked, tilted my head, and rubbed my chin. "Who would send me flowers?"

"The note says, 'Yo, Benny. It's time we finally sealed the deal and made things between us official. I'll be waiting eagerly at our place tonight. Love, Norman.'" the receptionist explained. A few of the girls working at the surrounding desks giggled after the note was read. I blushed when I recognized a few of them as fellow classmates of mine.

When I arrived back at the computer lab, vase full of flowers in hand, my phone began buzzing. I set the flowers down and accepted the call.

"Benny, are you there?" a voice I recognized as belonging to my girlfriend Ashley asked.

"Yeah, what's up?" I asked in response.

"I got a text saying someone sent you flowers today" she accused in an indignant tone of voice. "It's very important you answer me honestly. I didn't send you any flowers, ok. So be truthful with me. Who were those flowers from?"

I sighed before admitting, "It's true babe. I don't know how to explain this. I'm not cheating on you first and foremost. The person who sent them to me. It's a guy. I know that's crazy. It's my roommate actually. He has been trying to flirt with me for a while. Seems completely clueless that I'm not interested."

The phone remained silent for several moments before I heard my girlfriend begin to giggle. "That's so adorable," she said. "Some other guy has a boy crush on you. It's super cute."

"You're not angry or jealous?" I asked, leaned forward, and held my breath.

"Jealous of a guy?" she asked incredulously before laughing. "Don't worry about it, babe. It's hilarious that a guy sent you flowers. Make sure you send him a thank you note!"

I ended the phone call with my girlfriend, slumped back into my chair, and let out a huge breath. That could have easily gone much poorer. My brow wrinkled, teeth bit down on my lip, and my stomach lost its sense of appetite. My girlfriend was fine, but I'd still have to deal with Norman tonight.

I entered the rental house in the evening carrying the vase and flowers. All the lights were turned off and the only illumination came from candles that had been arranged around the kitchen and living room. I heard crackling from the various candles and the room smelled faintly of smoke. Norman sat on the living room couch naked with his right leg crossed over the left. The expensive bottle of scotch laid next to him against the cheap polyester.

"Benny, my boy," he said with a confident smile on his face. He leaned forward, fidgeted and wet his lips. "I see you've brought home my gift. You don't have to keep playing hard to get anymore. I have so much romance to give. We're both going to be so happy together." Norman uncrossed his legs before spreading them wide, revealing his large, very hard, thick and erect cock to me. "Uh huh," he said, smirked, and gave the fat shaft of it a very slow and deliberate tug with his right hand.

I stared at his cock and felt my mouth and hands moisten. He was right. It looked way bigger in person than in the picture. And it already looked very big in the pic. Fuck. I approached the kitchen counter and set down the flowers he had sent me and the whole time while I did so my eyes were glued to his huge prick. My mind flooded with fantasies of me stroking it, sucking it, rubbing it against my face. I couldn't explain where these thoughts were coming from. My pulse raced and I hesitated, not understanding what was happening.

"I told you, it's not a gay or straight thing," Norman lectured as he grinned knowingly at me. "This is strictly about romance. Come over here and join me on the couch for a few drinks. We'll loosen up a bit and I will show you what I mean." He moaned as he performed another slow-motion stroke of his huge dick.

My body shivered as I debated accepting his proposal. I was about to say yes when I felt a pain in the back of my throat and thought of Ashley. I stood in silence and only the sound of the cackling candles was present. Finally, I sighed and explained, "I can't. I have a girlfriend."

Norman rolled his eyes and sighed at me. "What the fuck bro?" he complained. "Stop being a whipped little bitch. Get over here now and let me romance you with my big dick. Your stupid bitch girlfriend can fuck off. Only a fucking moron would put salmon on their pizza when the thick hot salami is available." His beefy right hand squeezed the fat shaft of his beastly cock, and I could see a bit of soupy precum leak out the tip through the flickering candlelight.

"I-I can't," I said quickly as I averted my eyes. Fuck, his penis looked so powerful just now. Between that and his muscles, God only knows what he could do sexually to a woman... or a man. I could feel my own dick was rock hard. Shit, maybe I am partly gay. My gaze focused elsewhere, I darted to my room and quickly closed the door and locked it. As soon as I heard the click, I slumped my back against the door as my legs wobbled and I let out a huge breath. I couldn't believe I had been so close to fooling around with an older and bigger man's larger penis.

The next day I received a call from my girlfriend. "About the flowers from the other day," she began.

My neck went stiff, and I rubbed my face repeatedly. I thought I had won this battle already. Why bring this up again? "Uhm, what about it?" I asked. "Are you upset now?"

The phone was silent for several moments. Finally, Ashley spoke, "No silly. The opposite actually. I think it's very sweet that you have this other boy crushing on you. You should have told me you have a bi side sooner. It's not a turn off at all. Actually, I find it kind of hot. Don't worry about me. As long as it's with another guy, you've got a hall pass. I'm just glad to have such a progressive, open-minded boyfriend."

I wanted to explain that I didn't want to pursue a relationship with Norman, but I was afraid I'd offend her by insisting I wasn't bisexual and wasn't interested in men. Sure, in the moment he almost seduced me. But now that I was away from him, I was certain as ever I wanted nothing to do with his girthy, long penis and his cliched 1980s masculinity. "Maybe I'll give him a chance," I lied.

I was eating lunch when Norman returned home from the docks. "Such a big load today, you'd be impressed if you saw it," he bragged as he approached our fridge. He grabbed a protein shake and began chugging it. As the frothy white liquid poured down his throat, he flexed his bicep at me through his blank tank top.

"So, did you talk to your little girlfriend about our situationship?" he asked before staring intently at me.

"Of course not, there is no situation between you and I to talk about," I quickly replied before forcing myself to maintain eye contact with the older man.

His lips pinched together, and he shook his head before releasing a heavy sigh. "It's bad enough you put me through all this hard-to-get shit," he complained. "Now you're seriously going to sit there and just lie straight to my face. Bro, I spoke to Ashley over the phone this morning. She was totally cool with us starting a side relationship. She told me she'd call you right away and share the good news. C'mon man. Enough with the bullshit."