Rummates Pt. 09

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

*.**.***.**.*

Grant Jones pedaled his bicycle to 209 Conway Road. He navigated the quiet side streets carefully; it was after eleven o'clock at night.

His mountain bike was equipped with all the necessary reflectors and he had his helmet on his head. His shoes were also equipped with reflective tape. But none of that would do him much good if the driver wasn't paying attention.

As Grant pedaled, he could feel the lacy thong panties rubbing maddeningly against his skin. The strap was buried between his butt cheeks, rubbing back and forth against his sweaty anus as he pumped his sleek legs. The dark brown polyester pants kept his bright red panties from view, but Grant knew they were there, hugging his cock, rubbing against his heavy balls, rasping against his tight little pucker.

Grant looked both ways, then crossed Conway Road and pedaled up the short driveway to the carport. Aiden's car was parked underneath the dark canopy and the house itself was dark.

Cutting through the back yard, Grant fumbled with the combination lock on the tool shed. There was little light to work by and Grant used his cell phone's flashlight.

The door creaked slightly as Grant opened the door. He wheeled his bicycle into the shed, put the kickstand down, and walked to the half-open door. He took a moment to adjust himself; the nonstop friction of his silk panties had given him a semi-erection.

Grant put his helmet onto the small hook, then combed his fingers through his long blond hair. With one last look around, Grant stepped outside, making sure to securely lock the door.

Grant made sure to latch the gate of the back yard, trying to be quiet. He then let himself into the house through the side door. Stepping into the kitchen, Grant quickly punched in the code to the alarm. Then, he re-armed the security system.

Aiden complained about Grant's showers late at night; said the sound of running water woke him. But Grant would not be able to sleep, stinking as he did from another night of making pizzas, serving pizzas, washing dirty dishes, sweating from the long bike ride home.

"Fucker, I pay my rent," Grant muttered. "Not my fault your pipes are old."

Stepping into the hall bathroom, Grant closed the door before turning on the harsh light. Standing before the full-length mirror on the back of the door, Grant stripped out of the Brick's Pizzeria uniform blouse, the ugly brown polyester work trousers, then stood and admired the beautiful sight in the long narrow mirror.

The blonde hair was long, reaching past the shoulder blades. The eyes were warm and brown. The nose was slim, with an adorable little point, perched above pouting light pink lips. The neck was slender, graceful.

The bright red tank top reached down to the waistband of the pretty panties. Peeling the tank top up revealed large areolae with hard nipples, a cute nipped in waist and rounded hips.

Peeling the soft, silky panties down revealed a hairless crotch. The panties slipped over the hairless legs, made sleek by hours of bicycling. Turning, the mirror showed a compact, tight backside.

Grant dropped the sweaty, stinky clothes into the hamper and resolved to do his laundry in the morning. Stepping into the shower, Grant twisted the taps and adjusted the water's temperature.

He made quick work of lathering his long hair and scrubbing the day's work from his skin. Grant knew, no matter how quickly he worked, it would not be quick enough to suit Aiden.

Stepping from the warmth of the shower, Grant quickly toweled his flesh, then wrapped the towel around his wet hair, turban style. He pulled on his silk robe, shivering at the sensuous feeling of the silky material against his hairless skin.

"Hey," Aiden sleepily greeted Grant as Grant stepped from the bathroom.

"Hi," Grant whispered, once again struck by the young man's rugged good looks.

Aiden Lee was tall, six three, and was quite muscular. He had thick wavy brown hair and startling blue eyes. Aiden believed himself to be ugly; he had a scar that started just above his right eye and coursed over his nose to end right below his left cheek. He'd received the scar from a jealous boy that objected when Aiden dared talk to the boy's sister.

The two roommates passed one another in the hallway; Aiden on his way to the kitchen, Grant on his way to his bedroom.

Grant closed and carefully locked the bedroom door. Dropping the robe to the corner of his bed, Grant grabbed a tube of moisturizing skin lotion and began to apply the lavender scented lotion. His erection slowly bobbled to life as he smoothed the lotion into his skin.

Checking again that the door was firmly locked, Grant turned off the bedside lamp and lay on his bed. Then, with practiced ease, Grant brought his legs up and over, touching the pillows above his head with his toes. Gripping his erection in one hand, Grant guided his throbbing cock to his mouth. His other hand travelled to his tightly clenched anus.

Grant flicked his tongue back and forth, swabbing at the head of his cock. He wrapped his lips around the first few inches and hollowed his cheeks as he sucked on his cock.

That first time, when Mr. Buddy, Grant's boss at the Brick's Pizzeria had invited Grant over to his home, hey'd made some banana daiquiris. Mr. Buddy had invited Grant in and they went into the kitchen. Grant giggled when Buddy asked him if he knew how to peel a banana as he handed Grant two large, fat bananas.

"Uh, yeah," Grant agreed as buddy poured some dark rum into a large blender.

"Yeah? What about pink bananas?" Buddy asked, gripping his cock through his shorts.

Grant giggled again and dumped the bananas into the blender. Buddy smiled and Grant gave him a nervous smile as the noisy appliance chewed through the chunks of ice.

The drinks were strong. After the second drink, Grant found himself in Mr. Buddy's bedroom. Mr. Buddy eased Grant's shirt up and off and played with Grant's nipples, even sucking and biting on them. Then he eased Grant's cutoff shorts down and off, freeing Grant's six and a half inches of hard, throbbing cock. Mr. Buddy had not even put his mouth fully around Grant's cock before Grant grunted and ejaculated forcefully into Mr. Buddy's mouth.

Then Mr. Buddy firmly guided Grant to his knees. Grant eagerly opened his mouth and swallowed Mr. Buddy's fat meat. Within a few moments, Grant was rewarded with a mouthful of semen.

"But, oh my! Oh, that first time," Grant thought as his fingers pushed into his struggling rectum.

Mr. Buddy had positioned Grant in the center of his bed, on hands and knees. Grant squealed and shuddered as Mr. Buddy pushed a tick finger into Grant's ass. Grant's cock quickly swelled to full hardness as Mr. Buddy pushed one, then two greasy fingers into his hole, fucking the two fingers in and out.

That first jolt of excruciating pain had caused Grant to scream out. The pain was a searing, stabbing pain. It truly felt like his anus was being ripped apart as the blunt head of Mr. Buddy's fat cock pushed against Grant's tightly clenched anus.

"Aieegh! I, I oh my God, oh please God stop!" Grant had cried out.

But he had made no move to crawl away. Grant had made no move to rise up, to push Mr. Buddy away.

Mr. Buddy did not stop. He continued to press his dick against Grant's struggling hole. His hands held Grant hips firmly once his cock had gained a few inches into Grant's guts.

"Augh, oh dear God!" Grant sobbed out as the flared head of Mr. Buddy's beautiful cock had popped past his resisting sphincter.

Now, in his bedroom, Grant thrust two, then three fingers into his rectum as he relived the feeling of Mr. Buddy's cock rasping along the walls of his rectum, stretching his hole, filling his guts with cock.

Grant pinched the base of his cock; he could feel his sperm bubbling up. He ceased with the suction and concentrated his attention on the delicious feelings of his fingers filling his hole. His thoughts drifted back to that delightful afternoon.

Within moments, Grant was thrusting back to meet Mr. Buddy's forward thrusts. The pain was still there, a throbbing in his bruised anus. But there was also a delicious raw pulsing pain as he was being fucked by a thick cock.

"Mm mm, um yes," Grant moaned as his cock twitched, throbbed, then spurted a thick stream of spunk into his mouth.

Satiated for now, Grant lowered his legs and lay, gasping. He flicked the towel from his hair and wiped his fingers clean. Then he found the corset and cinched it around his middle.

"Augh, I, damn!" Grant gasped out as he pulled the laces.

He selected a pretty camisole top and matching panties. His anus throbbed as he pulled the thong tightly against his backside. Then he knelt beside his bed, wheezing slightly as the corset made breathing somewhat difficult.

"No pain, no gain, pussy," Grant said to himself.

Grant had liked Mr. Buddy, had liked that Mr. Buddy horsed around with him, treating him like just one of the guys. Grant's father had died in an industrial accident and Grant's step-father treated Grant like an inconvenience, instead of like a son. So, when Mr. Buddy grabbed Grant in a headlock, Grant felt a wave of contentment ripple through him. When Mr. Buddy grabbed Grant's briefs and threatened to give Grant a collosal, monumental gargantuan ginormous wedgy, Grant felt accepted, even valued.

And that first time Mr. Buddy had fucked Grant, Grant had felt loved, wanted. Unfortunately, that feeling was fleeting. Mr. Buddy also wanted to be fucked, treated like a girl. Grant lost his erection when he tried to push himself into Mr. Buddy's hole.

Somehow, Burt figured it out. Somehow, when Grant had entered the home after being fucked like a bitch, Burt knew. His sneer of contempt erased the happy, content feeling in Grant's belly.

And when Burt found Grant's stash of cosmetics, Grants treasure chest of panties and bras and stockings, Burt pummeled Grant without mercy. Grant spent three nights in Clarkston County Medical Center. Burt spent one night in jail.

"Time for you to skip on out of here, Nancy," Burt declared when Grant entered the small home after Clarkston County Medical Center released him. "Ain't no room in my house for little sissy faggots."

"Really? But there's room for fat bloated drunks?" Grant thought, but didn't say anything.

Grant's mother said nothing. The weak-willed woman couldn't even make eye contact with her son.

"It's too late for me to find a dorm room," Grant said, his fat lip throbbing as he talked.

"Ain't my problem," Burt spat.

"I'm asking for a few days to find somewhere to stay," Grant said, looking at his mother for some help.

Aiden Murphy Lee had posted an ad on the Myndee's University newspaper, the Blue Jay Bugler. Grant cycled down to the address and filled out the application. Grant's mother agreed that Grant could use her car to move his few belongings to the house.

"Bye, cock sucker," Burt sang out when Grant put the keys onto the table.

Grant said nothing. His mother looked away from Grant's accusing stare. Grabbing his bicycle helmet, Grant pedaled away from the prison for the last time. He had not seen his mother since that day.

The next morning, waking from a deep, restful sleep, Grant unlaced the corset and took a deep, ragged breath. But he smiled at the sleek figure the mirror over his low dresser was displaying.

Grant put his lingerie away, then pulled on a pair of shorts and his favorite Betty Boop tee shirt. Betty Boop was wearing a short nurse's uniform and had a very large hypodermic needle in one hand. Underneath Betty, the tee shirt bore the words 'Bottoms Up!'

"Morning," Aiden said as Grant lugged his laundry hamper to the sliding glass doors.

"Morning," Grant agreed, covertly eying Aiden's muscled chest and rock hard abdomen. The gray flannel shorts did little to hide the substantial lump in front, and when Aiden turned to flip his French toast, Grant ogled Aiden's tight backside.

Outside, Grant used the key to unlock the laundry room/utility room. He looked around, making sure he was alone before putting his lingerie into the small mesh bag. He then dumped his other clothes on top of the intimates and started the wash.

Inside the home, Aiden was sitting at the table, eating his breakfast. Grant grabbed a yogurt and fresh banana and sat at the table to eat his own breakfast.

"When's school start?" Aiden asked conversationally.

"Hmm? Couple weeks," Grant said. "Hard to believe, but I'm just a few hours away from finishing. Of course, if I want to be a registered nurse, then I'll need to transfer my credits to Myndee."

"You can do that?" Aiden asked.

"Mm hmm; Samuel Connor Community College and Myndee University have programs like that. If Myndee has the same program? Like nursing, or um, accounting? And later on you want to get your four year degree? Then you just apply at Myndee," Grant said.

"When you get all excited like that, it's kind of cute," Aiden smiled.

"Oh, oh, shut up," Grant said, blushing hotly.

The two roommates knew very little about one another. Grant knew that Aiden believed his scar made him unattractive. Aiden had stared at Grant when Grant had assured him, the scar made him ruggedly handsome. Because he believed himself deformed, ugly, Aiden rarely went out on dates. Grant suspected the few 'dates' Aiden had were actually going to the Hunter's Cabin and ogling the nude girls scampering around. Or, the occasional prostitute.

Aiden might suspect that Grant was gay, but he never said anything. Aiden never commented on Grant's floral shampoo, or his perfumed skin lotions. Aiden said nothing about Grant's long blond hair or feminine mannerisms.

Grant didn't think of himself as gay. Truly, Grant thought of herself as Joan Grant, not Grant Jones. Getting on her knees, sucking Mr. Buddy's sweet, delicious cock, swallowing his fantabulous sperm, then being filled up, fucked like a little slut had confirmed Joan Grant's secret feelings.

The few times she'd dared put on her makeup and her pink sundress, polish his neatly manicured nails, Joan Grant was a beautifl, sexy girl. And when she put on her little black dress, Joan was a sultry, desirable vamp. That, that reflection in the mirror, that was natural. That was who she was.

"And, I'm tired of hiding who and what I am," Grant decided as he sipped his cup of coffee.

"Oh, hey, you work today?" Aiden asked.

"No. Believe this? Mr. Buddy's got three birthday parties but said I was too close to going over my hours, so has me off until Monday," Grant said absently, trying to work up the courage to disclose his secret.

"Cool. Dustin? My buddy from school? Freezer went down so he gave me a whole bunch of deer sausage," Aiden said. "Was thinking I'd grill some up for lunch. You make that nasty rice?"

"Dirty rice," Grant giggled. "Dirty rice. Dirty, not nasty."

"Nasty, dirty, what's the difference?" Aiden teased.

"And..." Grant said, looking into the pantry. "Okay, some German potato salad, or is that too much carbs? Yes, yes, that's too much carbs; we'll have a mixed greens salad, something light to start us off; what time?"

"Lunch? One o'clock?" Aiden suggested.

"Okay," Grant said."

As Grant worked to prepare the Cajun style dirty rice, he had a thought come to him. Midway through the prep, he went to the utility room and transferred most of the clothing into the dryer. The Lingerie was brought into his bathroom and hung over the shower rod to dry. Leaving the bathroom, Grant shut the door tightly.

"You know what? I, I'm going to do it," Grant decided, walking to the kitchen. "I'm going to do it."

Aiden lighted the grill and waited for the charcoal to burn to the right temperature. Grant finished the rice and the salad, then informed Aiden he was going to change.

"Oh, hey, I'm fixing make me a pina colada. You want one?" Aiden offered, entering the kitchen.

"Oh, please, yes, a pina colada? That sounds delicious," Grant agreed.

"In his room, Grant quickly stripped out of shorts and tee shirt. He decided to go with a simple sundress and flats; this was a simple meal, after all. He did slip on a pair of slinky panties and was daring enough to forego a bra.

Light foundation, light blush, just a hint of eyeshadow and some light pink lip gloss brought out Joan's natural beauty. She decided some leather sandals, a flat sole would be appropriate for the simple meal.

"Got the recipe off the web site; tastes pretty..." Aiden said then abruptly stopped as Joan Grant came into the small kitchen.

"That for me?" Joan asked, indicating the offered glass in Aiden's hand.

"Huh? I uh, yeah, yeah, this is yours," Aiden agreed, handing Joan the drink.

"Mm," Joan said, savoring the cloying taste of the rum beverage. "Okay, the salad's ready, your nasty rice is just about ready; how about the sausages?"

"Yeah, yeah, let me go check," Aiden said, gulping his own drink.

With another look at Joan, Aiden slid open the sliding glass door and stepped outside. Joan turned off the dirty rice and got two bowls out for the salad.

"I uh, so, um, how, how long you been..." Aiden stammered, putting the platter of deer sausage onto the table.

"How long have I been Joan Grant?" Joan asked, taking a strength-giving gulp of her drink. "A while, really. I've known pretty much my whole life that what I am on the outside? That's not really me."

"So, you, you're Joan Grant?" Aiden asked, looking at the cute girl in his kitchen.

"Mm hmm," Joan said, using salad tongs to serve the salad.

She grabbed two plates, took the lid from the dirty rice and served two heaping scoops of the rice onto their plates. Placing the plate in front of Aiden, Joan playfully messed up his already tousled mop of hair.

"Aw, hey, I worked on that hair all day," Aiden playfully complained.

"To get that 'just woke up and crawled out of bed' look? Good job," Joan said, taking her seat. "I get another pina colada?"

"Yeah, yeah, I made a pitcher of them," Aiden agreed, pulling a tall pitcher from the refrigerator.

"Oh! This one, this one's got jalapeno in it," Joan said, swallowing her mouthful of deer sausage.

"You alright with that?" Aiden asked.

"Hmm? Oh, oh yes, I love jalapeno," Joan agreed, using her knife to cut another chunk of the sausage.

"Love, love, love the nasty rice," Aiden teased.

"Whatever," Joan smiled. "But, glad you like it."

"I uh, so, so," Aiden started then lost his nerve.

"Go ahead, say it," Joan coaxed.

"So um, are you gay?" Aiden blurted out. "I mean, hey, no big deal if you are, but..."

"Well...I like men. I would love to have a boyfriend, would love to have a boyfriend that would hold me and kiss me and make love to me, treat me like I'm his woman," Joan admitted. "So, does that make me gay? Or does it make me a normal woman?"

"I uh, I guess that makes you a normal woman," Aiden said thoughtfully.

"Oh! This one, this one's got pineapple in it," Joan exclaimed, eating a second deer sausage.

"No kidding?" Aiden said, spearing another sausage for himself.

A few moments later, Joan finished her lunch. She looked up and saw that Aiden was staring at her. He was still eating, but his attention was focused on her.

"What? Why are you staring at me like that?" Joan asked.

"I, um, I just wish..." Aiden started, then trailed off.

"Just wish what?" Joan asked, taking the last sip of her pina colada.

"Nothing, nothing," Aiden mumbled and stared at his plate, blushing.

"Come on, what?" Joan cajoled.

"I just wish I could get a girl a pretty girl like you, you know, over here, to you know," Aiden admitted, looking at the rice pot.