Pretty Boy

Perking up, he quickly tore off a second and pressed it into my hand. I scrambled to put it on.

"Going for three, slick?" Greg grinned excitedly, wiping off his forehead.

"It's happening!" I promised, hastily re-lubing myself. "Can I do you from behind?"

He rolled over gamely, sticking his ass out at me, and I smacked it before positioning myself between his spread knees and pushing inside his scorching hole. My cock seemed to radiate with powerful energy. I had never felt so turned on.

"Yeahhh, you're like a bitch in heat!" I growled, leaning over and pressing my face against his warm, sweaty back. I licked him a little, and he tasted salty.

"Your cock," he moaned into his pillow, sounding humble for the first time since I'd known him. "Need your cock so much."

"You got it, champ," I promised. I gripped his sides and fucked him faster, working up a new rhythm. This time I ignored the music and didn't so much drive into him as connect with him, rocking him in smooth, flowing, graceful strokes of my hips.

We didn't yell or swear this time. We just panted, occasionally whimpered, moaned, and mumbled encouragements or affirmations. It was better that I couldn't see his face in those moments, because it was too good. It was too fucking good.

I lasted much longer this time. I seemed to spend half the night riding him, and didn't even notice when the Slipknot album ended. We were simply fucking in hot, heavy, dreamy silence.

I was almost in a trance when he suddenly shifted forward, and I popped out of him with a little cry of displeasure. He turned round and grabbed me, pressing me down into the mattress. In one swift movement he removed my condom, tossed it away, and descended on me, taking me into his mouth to the hilt.

"Fffff--!" I exhaled through my teeth, very pleasantly surprised.

"Mmmm."

I watched him bob up and down gamely on my resilient cock, his eyes squeezed shut. His tongue swirled around my shaft and across my tip, making me gasp repeatedly.

"Teeth," I huffed. "Give me some teeth."

He scraped his teeth gently across my most sensitive flesh, and I dug my heels into the mattress and groaned. My hips pushed up against his mouth, and for a third time I cried out in an explosion of throbbing pleasure. I spurted my load straight at the back of his throat, and he swallowed every drop with a determined countenance.

When his mouth released my cock with a sloppy smack, it was finally softening and slapped wetly against my belly. I was exhausted and blissfully happy, feeling paralyzed as I gazed up at him. He sat up a little, licked his lips, and gripped his huge cock, jerking himself with both hands in a tugging, twisting motion. I was useless as I watched him work, his chest, neck, and face flushed a deep red. He breathed rapidly and opened his eyes at last, locking them on mine.

"Cum for me," I whispered. "Cum all over me. I want it."

"You want it, pretty boy?" he panted.

"I want it."

He pumped his shaft harder and grunted, arching a little and thrusting his hips forward. He gritted his teeth and sprayed an impressive gout of scorching hot cum all the way up my belly and chest, and then several more smaller spurts. I was sloppy with it.

His movements slowed, and he finally relaxed, leaning weakly against the wall. I idly ran my finger through a glob of his cum, and licked it. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not, but I licked up a little more nonetheless. The rest I wiped off with his sheet.

Greg groaned and grabbed my shoulder, rolling me onto my side. He wedged himself in behind me so that we were spooning, and I smiled as he softly kissed the back of my neck and my ear.

"Epic fuck," he mumbled. "You're an insufferable little spoiled brat, but you can really fuck."

"You've got a pretty sweet ass," I mumbled back at him, "for a big dumb Neanderthalic football jock." I paused, taking a deep breath. "Can I fuck you again sometime?"

"All... th' time," he mumbled, his speech beginning to slur a little. "You c' fuck me... all th' time."

I struggled to extricate myself from his sleepy arms. Greg was content to be a slob, but I wouldn't be able to rest without showering off immediately.

When I came out of the bathroom and ascended to my own bed, he was snoring away. I had no trouble falling asleep myself--I had begun to find his snores soothing.

We stayed fuck buddies for a very long time. It was obvious we'd never work as a couple, but the heat--fuck! The heat was always incredible.

I can't say he was ever nicer to me. We had our little moments, but despite annihilating stereotypes I hadn't even realized I'd harboured, he was still a macho asshole jock, and I suppose I remained a spoiled princess who drove him up the wall. I think we genuinely hated each other when we got into yelling matches, but that didn't stop us from ending in a raucous bout of fucking. The bigger the fight, the better the fuck.

It was only when my cock was inside him that we seemed to make our peace, without the need for any words. It was a bizarre sort of equilibrium, but it worked for us. If I had been given the opportunity to choose my roommate, I doubt I would have chosen any other.