My Straight Roommate Ch. 04

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Colin take out one of his earbuds and furrow his brow. He frowned and put it back in; it seemed like Jesse and Duke were still riding their enthusiastic waves of passion, much to our chagrin. When I first asked the three roommates a couple of weeks prior if I could hang out at their apartment and study, no one had any problems with it. Jesse and Duke, in fact, were effusive in their enthusiasm at hosting me. Colin took me aside and advised me to get some good earphones, and I quickly learned not only how frequently the pair had sex, but how loud they were during. As entertaining as it could be to hear two guys enjoying themselves, that kind of distraction wasn't doing me any favors when it came to keeping up with schoolwork. At least I wasn't in my room at my apartment, wondering when Russ was going to show up and ask me to open wide to let his rocket in.

When I decided to keep my distance, I basically went cold turkey. I wasn't mean or rude to Russ, but I kept my responses curt. I could tell it surprised him, and he hadn't expected that kind of sudden turn right after he decided to insert himself, quite literally, into my hookup. I suppose he thought that maybe giving me that brief kiss was his way of letting me know he cared about my needs too, that he wasn't just using me as a cum rag. I tried to focus on the wrongness of that moment; it had to be him pandering to me. There was no way he actually really wanted anything more from me than what I had already given him. Surely he only saw me as his personal cocksucker, the one that bros think they're entitled to when all else fails, and I kept telling myself that I deserved better. R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me.

Focusing on the negatives wasn't easy, not when it felt so easy to fall back into his sway. I wanted to see him laugh again, or feel our fingertips brush as he handed me something. I wanted to feel him again. I wanted to be in front of him, looking up as his gaze saw right through me, knowing that only he could give me what I craved.

I wanted more than that.

What would he look like in the dimness of night as he fell asleep? What part of his skin would the first rays of morning illuminate? What would his strong arms feel like wrapped around me as we laid in bed, chuckling over some joke known only to us? Would he turn me onto my stomach and gently massage me, whispering into my ear as he slowly entered?

They were desires that I knew could never come to pass. Russ didn't have any of that in him, at least not with me. For all I knew, he made up with Paige and they were fucking like rabbits, giving even Jesse and Duke a run for their money. Not knowing was better than knowing. I didn't want to know that I would just be a notch on his bedpost, a story to tell his closest buddies when he got too drunk and started telling them about the obedient fag he had once upon a time in his college days, and they would probably share their own experiences, or at least the confident ones would.

My imagination ran wild with how I could be dismissed, and I didn't like it.

Jesse and Duke's door opened, and I saw more of them than I had ever expected as they giggled mischievously and scampered to the bathroom. I let out a sigh of relief and took my headphones off, and Colin visibly relaxed, mirroring me. "They might try to do it in the shower again, like last week, so maybe we're just getting ahead of ourselves," I joked.

"Let's hope not." Colin sat up in his chair and folded a corner of a page in his book, placing it on the coffee table. "Are you okay?"

I hesitated. My gut said to say that I was fine, that it didn't feel like I was dying a little inside the more I hid from Russ. But I also wanted someone to know the truth so that I didn't have to carry the weight around with me anymore. "I'm fine."

So much for wanting to unburden myself.

Colin gave me a knowing look. "You haven't said anything about Russ ever since that night at the club. That happened to be around the time you asked if you could chill here in the evenings. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that something's up. Did he do something to you?"

"He didn't hurt me or anything, if that's what you're trying to say," I said as I tried to recommit myself to reviewing the intricacies of cell division.

"So then what's up? You liked whatever you two had going on, right?"

"Well... yeah." I stretched out on the couch and stared at the ceiling, throwing my arm over my eyes in frustration. "But it wasn't going to last. Why not head it off before it implodes?"

"Did he say that? Tell you it was going to end?"

"No."

"Then I don't know why you're shooting yourself in the foot by sitting here in this apartment moping over something that hasn't happened yet, if it's even going to happen at all."

I sat up, surprised that Colin was insisting I should return to my slutty ways. "I thought you agreed completely with Erica."

"There you go again: making assumptions. I never made any judgment calls at all, and if you had asked, I would've told you to enjoy whatever crazy sex thing you have going on with your roommate and talk it out with him if you felt like you needed to set boundaries or whatever. Relationships, whatever they end up being, never get anywhere without communication."

"But he's straight."

"Have you asked him that lately? Maybe he's discovering he's bi or something. I don't know, and you certainly don't know, so ask. It doesn't hurt. If he says he's straight but just wants a willing mouth, and you're okay being that mouth, then you know where you stand. You can figure out what to do with that. Without that kind of information, you're stuck on my couch pretending like you have all the answers when you really don't.

"As much as I like having a witness to the debauchery I have to deal with on a daily basis, just so someone else can back me up when I complain about it, I'd rather you get your shit together and get on with life. If his answer shatters you into a million pieces, then come back here and I can help you put yourself back together. But don't act like it's happened already."

Colin let out a huge sigh, clearly relieved to have his chance to vent.

"Been thinking about that for awhile?" I said, intending to defuse the sudden charge of tension I felt in the air.

"It's been on my mind." He snatched his book and flipped it back open, waving at the door. "So go. Ask your studly roommate what the hell is up with his sexual machinations. I'll be here, listening to Jesse and Duke doing their best porn star impressions."

For all of Colin's encouragement, it was still easier said than done. When I got back to the apartment, Russ sat on the couch, watching some movie that sounded far more interested in explosions than exposition. He offered a tentative smile, clearly unsure how I would react, and waved almost shyly. "Hey."

The pit of my stomach dropped so far that I swore it went through the core of the earth and to the other side. I mumbled unintelligibly in response and dashed to my door, closing it behind me as I leaned against it and sank to the ground, hugging my knees to my chest.

Why was I being so stupid about Russ? There was no reason I couldn't stand in front of him and ask him to define what had happened between us, and if he wanted to keep it going. He had already done things to me that some would've considered worse than that, and yet I still couldn't bring myself to seek answers that I didn't know if I would like. It felt awful, wondering if I was on the edge of that fall towards concrete. Maybe I was already falling, and it was coming sooner than I thought.

Two gentle taps at the door jerked me out of my reverie. "Joe?"

He brought it to my doorstep. I could do it: ask a question, and figure out what to do from there.

I opened the door and Russ stood there, looking less confident than I had ever seen him before. He seemed just as unsure of the space between us as I was. "Hey, Joe." Even though he sounded nervous, just hearing his deep voice say my name sent a pleasant chill down my spine straight to my dick.

"Hi, Russ."

"Can we talk?"

"Are you straight?" I blurted. I hadn't meant to be so direct but my nerves got the best of me. I just wanted it to be over.

Russ stared. He shifted in place and stuck his hands in his pockets, looking away. "I'm open-minded."

"That's not an answer."

His gray eyes snapped to my face. "It is for me."

"What does that even mean, Russ? That you want to have a girl like Paige waiting for you at home but there's a guy like me in your back pocket? That's not fair to me."

"I don't know. It means what it means. I like what I like." He held his hands out as if that explained everything.

I felt myself bristle. I wanted a direct answer. I wanted him to define himself. "So you're just saying you'll fuck whoever throws themselves at your feet?"

"Well... maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I don't know!" Russ grew visibly frustrated and ran a hand through his hair. "I've never done this before. I mean, all the stuff with you. It's new to me."

"But if Paige were to show up at the door right now and ask for you back, you'd take her back."

"I don't know."

"For a guy who wanted to talk, you're really not giving me a whole lot of answers."

"It's the truth, Joe: I. Don't. Know. If you're confused by me, trust me, so the fuck am I." I startled, taken aback at the expletive punctuating his tone. "What I told you that night was true: I had watched gay porn before. I even kinda liked it. And sometimes I would think about guys while we were in the locker room together, maybe wonder what they were packing between their legs. But did I ever do anything? No. Not until you."

"And I'm, what, the experiment? The guy you try on before realizing that cock maybe isn't for you?"

Russ fell silent. I could tell he was choosing his words in his head carefully. "You're the guy who allowed me to begin figuring myself out."

"I don't know if I can be that for you, Russ," I sighed. "I don't want to get my hopes up and then wake up one day to see you're not there."

He slid towards me, closing the space between us. Despite my reluctance to do anything until I could understand Russ, and what "we" were, there was no way to ignore the heat I felt coming off his body, the faint scent of his body wash. "I can't promise I won't hurt you. But you can't make that same promise to me, right? How do I know you're not going to drop me when some cocky, self-assured guy comes your way and you realize he's got less baggage?"

"You're kidding me, right?" I whispered, allowing myself to reach out and brush my palm against the soft knit of the brown raglan henley covering his chest, trying not to focus on the peek of chest hair just above his shirt's collar. "You're a fucking stud. Any girl—or guy, now, I guess—would be lucky to have you."

Russ leaned into me and I bit my lip, tamping the urge to thrust my crotch into his, seeking the friction I desperately needed. "I'm a stud?"

"I thought I already told you that." My words faltered in my throat as I felt his arms wrap around me to press us completely together.

"You did," he said, leaning in to lick an earlobe and sending electricity scattering all over my skin. "I just like hearing you say it."

"You want me to tell you how much I want to rip your clothes off? To get on my knees and suck you dry?"

"Yes," he hissed in my ear, grinding his prominent bulge against mine. I nearly went crazy with lust.

"Want me to say how badly I need your cock, Russ? How much I want it? How I want you to fuck me?"

Russ shoved me against the door frame and roughly pressed his lips to mine. I parted my lips, allowing our tongues to duel. My hands traveled across his hard back, wanting to feel the bare skin that his shirt covered. I could hardly believe what was happening. If it was a wet dream, I never wanted it to end. Just as my hands were about to grip his ass, I felt myself swept up into his arms. He took me to his room, and I dimly recognized that I had never been in his room before he dropped me on the bed. I managed to sit up as he shrugged and said, "I've got a queen," before he pushed me back down and straddled my chest, his bulge in my face. "I think you promised me you were going to suck me dry."

I dutifully unzipped his jeans and freed his heavy cock, dripping with desire. I licked my lips as the beads fell to my chin, taking in the sight of such a powerful member attached to an equally powerful man, before my tongue slathered his ballsack with spit. I was ravenous. The knowledge that this man wanted me in his bed, wanted to feed me his seed, sent me into a lust-fueled delirium. Whatever we were outside of our apartment didn't matter to what we were sharing in his bed. I needed him, and at that moment, he needed me too.

"Wait," he said, and got off the bed. He pulled me to my feet, and I stood confused until he began taking my shirt off, and undid my belt. "What's it like, being on your knees?"

"It's—" I gasped as he yanked my jeans down, my aching cock springing between us. "Hot," I finished lamely, my brain unable to furnish a complete thought, presumably due to a lack of blood. My cock grew even harder, if possible, when I saw Russ get down in front of me. "You don't..." I trailed off.

"I want to. I want to make you feel good." His hands, somewhat rough, gripped my member and I moaned at the sensation. "Sucking cock should be easy, right?" I nearly fell to the floor as I watched Russ take half of my length into his mouth and felt him tentatively swirl his tongue around my head. Were you to ask me a few weeks prior if my (not-so) straight roommate would ever be on the floor before me asking to suck me off, I would've laughed, and then saved the thought for my spank bank.

I watched as he began to take more of me, then pull back until just the head was between his lips before swallowing me again. It was unbelievably hot, until his teeth grazed the shaft and I hissed, "Russ! Teeth!" He tried to say "sorry" around his mouthful. As he continued, though it was wonderful to see him between my legs, there was no denying that he was an amateur when it came to sucking a dude off. What Russ lacked in technique, however, he made up for with enthusiasm: it was a sloppy blowjob, literally. I almost wanted him to stop so I could offer him some water in case his body was using all of his liquid reserves for his saliva.

Russ pulled off with an audible pop and looked up at me, eyes slightly watery from one too many unsuccessful attempts to deep throat. "That good?"

I bent over to kiss him before pulling him up. "My turn." I could, at the very least, show my appreciation for his first ever attempt at giving head by giving back what pleasure I had received tenfold. I kicked off my jeans, now completely naked, and got to work by swiftly swallowing Russ' cock. He moaned and grabbed what fistfuls he could of my hair, pumping rapidly before forcing himself completely down my throat. I made sure to look up; there was something undeniably sexy about watching his defined muscles pop through the fabric as he strained to control his body's response to the pleasure I gave. He gave me a treat by sensually pulling the raglan off, each square inch of furred skin a delight to my eyes and throbbing cock.

Russ looked down and gave me a knowing smirk; he knew exactly what he was doing. "You like that, baby?" I don't know what possessed him to do it, but then he struck a double-bicep flex. It seemed ridiculously fetishistic, and definitely straight out of the playbook of a porn actor who didn't exactly know how best to capitalize on his musculature other than show it off, but my cock had no such reaction other than to twitch another glob of precum onto the floor. Yeah, watching him as a cocky alpha stud was hot, regardless of whatever thinkpieces it might inspire about whatever was wrong with that mentality.

Then again, maybe him showing off worked for Paige, and he thought maybe it would work for me too. I swirled my tongue around his large shaft, intending to communicate that it did. I liked him taking control, and knowing that he could have it.

When he pulled out, I knew I must've looked like a mess; Jesse liked to talk about Duke making him cock-drunk, and in that moment, I understood what that might feel like. Were a mirror in front of me, I knew I would see watery eyes, puffy lips, a thin runnel of spit down my chin, and disheveled hair. And my mouth would be slightly open, just in case he wanted more. Not exactly the most glamorous of looks, but one that Russ didn't seem to mind because he pulled me up and kissed me before asking, "You okay?" I nodded in response, and saw him glancing down at his still-hard member. "Do you want me to..."

"Yeah, Russ. I want you to fuck me."

His eyes softened. "It's probably going to hurt. We can stop if it's too much."

"That's what going slow is for, right?"

Russ retrieved a bottle of lube and a condom from the nightstand, and laid back on the bed. "Is cowgirl fine? Wait, do I need to call it 'cowboy' because you're a dude?" I shrugged. "Either way, I know this way you can control it."

"So technical," I teased as I straddled his large torso.

Russ shook his head. "It's, uh, come up before. I tend to rush ahead."

"You stick it in and ask questions later?"

"The first time I tried anal with Paige, we did it doggy style, and she called it off because I went in too fast. Second time, we did cowgirl, and that worked better. She still wasn't a big fan of it."

It was a slight boner-killer for Russ to bring up Paige—no one really wants to hear about an ex's performance in the bedroom in the heat of the moment—but knowing that he had tried anal sex before made me feel fired up to give him an even better experience than whatever women before me, and even before Paige, had offered. I ran my fingers through his chest hair and made sure to pinch his nipples, eliciting a surprised groan from Russ. "Well, I'll take that into consideration. Slow and steady is the name of the game.

"Can you do me a favor? Help me get ready?" I shot for coquettish and probably landed on infantile, but I was committed. "I've never taken a cock as big as yours before. I'll need plenty of preparation."

Even if I sounded ridiculously childish (which was absolutely the worst way to sound while attempting dirty talk), I saw a flare of heat burst in Russ' eyes. "Need to be stretched out some, huh?" Without taking his eyes off mine, he squeezed a generous amount of lube into his hand. "You need to feel like you can take it?"

"Yes, sir."

Russ' hand reached underneath me to slather the lube all over my hole. I gasped at the sudden cold sensation as he rubbed his fingers against me, slicking up his fingers before pressing the first one at the puckering opening. I gripped Russ' firm chest, forgetting about his nipples and feeling a sudden need to have him, any part of him, in me. It wasn't his cock, but even the idea of him fingering me, stretching me open, was almost too much to handle. I didn't want to wake up from the dream, if it was a dream; that would be a cruel joke for the universe to play. When the first digit entered, I groaned and pressed back onto it, instantly going knuckle deep. "Someone's trying to skip ahead," Russ chuckled.

"It's not your finger I'm worried abo—ooooh fuck!" Russ had curled his finger and found my prostate; it was a bullseye, and on the first attempt at that. He smirked at my momentary speechlessness. He pressed it again, and again, and I wondered if I would pass out from the glimpses of life, the universe, everything; at least, that's what it felt like I was seeing. If that was just one finger doing that to me, what would his cock feel like?