Author's Note: I've lurked on this forum for a while but this is my first ever post. The story just came to me and I started to fall in love with this scenario. I hope you all like it and if you do, I'll keep writing. Please let me know what you think!
I lived in a dorm for my first year of university. I was 18, studious, a little bit awkward, and still freshly "out" as a bisexual male. Needless to say, the idea of living in a residence - especially in a shared room - left me a little on edge. My goal was to keep my head down, make a few friends in my classes, and move off campus as soon as I met someone who could cook something other than ramen noodles and wouldn't blink if I brought a guy or girl home.
Despite my ambitions, life had other plans for me.
My first day started out fairly standard. My parents dropped me off outside of the residence, wished me a tearful goodbye, and made me promise I would call them once I got settled in. I agreed, feeling pretty emotional myself, and waved while they drove away. Then I stepped into the residence, navigated my way to the room I would be staying in, and met my roommate for the first time. I was not prepared for what I would see.
Standing in front of me was a chiseled, olive-skinned man wearing nothing but a speedo decorated with our university's emblem. Draped over his broad shoulders was a white towel. Black curls were dripping water along his smiling face and down his Grecian-sculpted chest and abs. Stunned, I averted my eyes from his barely-contained bulge and kept them fixated on his electric blue irises.
"H-hi. Umm... I think I'm your roommate? I'm Allen." I'll be honest - I'm only 50% sure that's what I said. Internally, all of my mental energy was praying to every deity I could name that I wouldn't look down at the tiny piece of fabric separating me from his junk.
"Oh, hey. I'm Julian. Nice to meet you." His words were slow and baritone. He reached toward me with a large hand and I shook it, surprised at how smooth his skin was. "Going for a swim," he said. "I'm on the team." He paused between sentences, thoughtful about his words.
"Ah. Good for you. I'm not much of an athlete myself." It was true. Aside from some occasional yoga to release stress, I was a pretty standard twink with no aspirations to become a twunk. His eyes glanced up and down my body and he smiled. "I'll show you the gym sometime. If you want."
As he started to leave, something overtook me and I blurted, "I'm not straight. I... I just wanted to get that out of the way in case it's an issue for you? If it is, I can talk to someone about another room assignment."
"Nah. Fine by me, man." And then he flashed a wicked smile and left. My jaw dropped as I let my eyes peek at his magnificent ass before the door closed behind him.
Did that just happen? Was that flirting or did he truly just not care? I inspected our shared room, trying to do the mental arithmetic that would determine whether or not Julian was queer. Certainly nothing about his personality registered on my gaydar. But there also wasn't anything to suggest he was straight. There was no Playboy calendar hanging by his bed, no Axe body spray in the washroom. The room was tidy and plain. So I unpacked, putting Julian out of mind, and decided to meet some of the other residents.
Freshman orientation began shortly after I unpacked my bags. We did the campus tour, cringe-worthy icebreakers, and listened to speeches on the dangers of overdrinking. The only time I ever drank was after my high school prom, which ended with me on the bathroom floor for the entire night. Haunted by the memories, binge drinking wasn't on my to-do list. But as the festivities began, I accepted a beer that was offered to me and nearly coughed my lungs out after taking a puff from a joint. I'm human and wanted to fit in. Sue me.
The partying went on for the entire night but I excused myself once a fight broke out in the dorm's lobby. I laid in my bed, texted my parents to let them know I was alright, and tried to close my eyes. Julian entered the room a few minutes later, clothed in grey sweatpants and a tightly-fitting black t-shirt.
"Hey." That was all he said. He really was parsimonious with his words.
"Hey. How was the swim?"
"Good. Almost beat my record." He said this all while he took off his clothes. I could hear the fabric being thrown on the floor by his bed. I sat up and made sure to keep my eyes on his face, trying to be respectful. "You care if I'm naked?"
"What?" I almost choked.
"I sleep naked. Always have." He was down to nothing but a pair of black briefs.
"Oh... Uh... Yeah that's fine," I squeaked, looking away while I heard him strip off the underwear.
He laid in his bed, earbuds in. An eternity passed by while I stared at the ceiling, trying to imagine the view I would see if I just turned my head in his direction.
"You can look. If you want. At me."
Was this some kind of wish fulfillment? Was my puff from the joint messing with my head? Or did I actually hear this man tell me I could look at his naked body? I gulped. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I work hard for it. Attention doesn't bother me."
So I turned my head. His eyes met mine and he flashed that wicked smile again. My eyes navigated from his face to his shaven chest. A few black hairs surrounded his dark, erect nipples. In the line between his abs, a small trail of black hairs led my eyes down to his neatly trimmed pubes. And then I let my gaze soak in his uncut cock dangling between his legs. It was soft, smooth, and about hung about three inches. His balls were relaxed, shaven, and large. I couldn't help but think about how full they probably were.
"Like it?" he asked, as if I was trying a sample of his cooking. I just nodded, truly unable to speak. "Do you want to be naked too?"
"Oh. Well it is a little bit warm, I said." I took off my shirt, slightly embarrassed by the comparison.
"Nice," he said. "Sure you don't work out?"
"Just yoga sometimes."
"Are you flexible?" He was so casual, as if he wasn't re-creating every porn fantasy I had ever seen. At this point, my cock throbbed, trying to escape the restraints of my underwear and pajama bottoms. If he kept this up, I knew I would start leaking precum. I covered my erection with a blanket, trying my best to be subtle.
"A little. I can't do the splits or anything, but I can put my feet behind my head and stuff like that."
"Cool."
The tension settled a little bit while he continued to listen to whatever played on his headphones. I laid back, cognoscente of the tent my dick pitched from under the blankets. My mouth was completely dry while I tried to will myself to sleep.
"Do you like weed?" he asked. "I have brownies. Friend gave them to me."
"Like... special brownies?"
He laughed. "Yes. Wanna get stoned?"
"Oh. I've never really - "
He smiled. "I'll take care of you."
I won't lie. Those words sent a fire blazing in my pelvis. "Okay."
We ate the brownies and talked for a while. I learned that Julian was an engineering student in his second year. He wanted to design airplanes for the military when he got out of school. He only ever spoke a few words at a time, but he was thoughtful, engaging, and took an interest in me. Eventually, we put on some episodes of The Office and waited for the weed to kick in. I was nervous, but he seemed to be able to read when he needed to bring my mind back to the conversation. Aside from the awkward sexual tension before, Julian seemed like someone I could actually be friends with.
Then the weed hit. My chest tightened and he noticed when my breath quickened. I started to laugh. The absolute absurdity of the situation was so preposterous to me that I couldn't contain myself. And then he started to laugh - a deep, melodic bass. It was like we were laughing at each other's laughter in an endless feedback loop. I was so intrigued and shocked that this specimen of a man would even want to talk to me. I suddenly became aware of the fact that he was still naked and sitting next to me on my bed while we watched. And I was shirtless, not caring about the nudity at all. My erection dwindled and I was just comfortable being around Julian.
Eventually we both laid down in our separate beds, letting our minds wander. Julian let me talk most of the time but never let the conversation end.
"I'm glad you're my roommate," I eventually said. And I meant it.
"Me too," he said. "Night, Allan."
"Goodnight, Julian."
Still in the afterglow of the weed and the novelty of my new home, I spent the rest of the night just thinking, recalibrating my understanding of what university life would be like. At some point - I heard Julian's breath quickening and he let out a soft moan. There was a rhythmic creaking from his bed. I never turned my head to look, not wanting to ruin the images that my head conjured up of what was going on in his bed. Instead, I let my imagination run wild while my cock became inconsolably hard. I reached below the waistband of my pants and grasped my erection, slowly running my hand up and down, imagining it was Julian's soft fingers clasping it. Precum gathered at the tip of my cock and eventually started to drip down, my strokes becoming audible from the wetness. I didn't let it stop me. Testing the waters, I started to let out my own moans of pleasure and stroking myself faster, waiting to see if Julian would respond.
He did. That baritone voice, utterly entranced by his own pleasure, resonated through the room while he continued to pleasure himself. We never had to say anything. I never turned my head while I jerked myself off. I imagined Julian grasping my balls, sucking me, gently probing my prostate with his fingers, and eventually filling me with his load. The imagery, supplemented by his own gasps, filled me with a feral, primal pleasure I'd never felt in my life.
The final moan he let out before he finished sent me into orgasm. Shot after shot of cum erupted from my dick, shooting all over my chest. I audibly gasped as the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced caused my entire body to writhe in ecstasy My toes curled and I no longer cared how loud my groans were. Still gasping for air, I heard him say, "Damn. Nice shot."
I finally turned my head and saw his still-erect penis laying against his abs. It was easily eight inches long and thick enough that I could barely imagine wrapping my fingers around it. The moonlight through the window revealed the slight reflection of his silvery-white seed painted on his chest in splatters. There was no denying what had just happened.
Without a word, I stood up to look for a sock or a towel to wipe myself off. He did the same. Before I could get to my drawer he pulled something from his laundry basket. "Here, use this," he said, throwing me a lump of fabric. I managed to catch it and realized that he had tossed me his speedo from earlier. "I'm gonna wash it tomorrow."
I wiped myself off in utter disbelief. I could feel myself getting hard again as I thought about his underwear being soiled by my cum. Without asking, I took my shorts and briefs off, replacing them with the cum-soaked speedo. Julian watched me do it, not saying a word. He just nodded and his approval made me unexplainably satisfied. The rest of the night was surprisingly uneventful. We laid there in silence and I wondered if things would be "normal" the next day. Would he ask me to move out or completely change his attitude toward me after this? Would he ask me to keep this a secret or tell me it could never happen again? In that moment, completely engulfed in the afterglow of my orgasm, I didn't care. I let myself asleep, dreaming of all the things I hoped me and Julian would do as roommates.
I lived in a dorm for my first year of university. I was 18, studious, a little bit awkward, and still freshly "out" as a bisexual male. Needless to say, the idea of living in a residence - especially in a shared room - left me a little on edge. My goal was to keep my head down, make a few friends in my classes, and move off campus as soon as I met someone who could cook something other than ramen noodles and wouldn't blink if I brought a guy or girl home.
Despite my ambitions, life had other plans for me.
My first day started out fairly standard. My parents dropped me off outside of the residence, wished me a tearful goodbye, and made me promise I would call them once I got settled in. I agreed, feeling pretty emotional myself, and waved while they drove away. Then I stepped into the residence, navigated my way to the room I would be staying in, and met my roommate for the first time. I was not prepared for what I would see.
Standing in front of me was a chiseled, olive-skinned man wearing nothing but a speedo decorated with our university's emblem. Draped over his broad shoulders was a white towel. Black curls were dripping water along his smiling face and down his Grecian-sculpted chest and abs. Stunned, I averted my eyes from his barely-contained bulge and kept them fixated on his electric blue irises.
"H-hi. Umm... I think I'm your roommate? I'm Allen." I'll be honest - I'm only 50% sure that's what I said. Internally, all of my mental energy was praying to every deity I could name that I wouldn't look down at the tiny piece of fabric separating me from his junk.
"Oh, hey. I'm Julian. Nice to meet you." His words were slow and baritone. He reached toward me with a large hand and I shook it, surprised at how smooth his skin was. "Going for a swim," he said. "I'm on the team." He paused between sentences, thoughtful about his words.
"Ah. Good for you. I'm not much of an athlete myself." It was true. Aside from some occasional yoga to release stress, I was a pretty standard twink with no aspirations to become a twunk. His eyes glanced up and down my body and he smiled. "I'll show you the gym sometime. If you want."
As he started to leave, something overtook me and I blurted, "I'm not straight. I... I just wanted to get that out of the way in case it's an issue for you? If it is, I can talk to someone about another room assignment."
"Nah. Fine by me, man." And then he flashed a wicked smile and left. My jaw dropped as I let my eyes peek at his magnificent ass before the door closed behind him.
Did that just happen? Was that flirting or did he truly just not care? I inspected our shared room, trying to do the mental arithmetic that would determine whether or not Julian was queer. Certainly nothing about his personality registered on my gaydar. But there also wasn't anything to suggest he was straight. There was no Playboy calendar hanging by his bed, no Axe body spray in the washroom. The room was tidy and plain. So I unpacked, putting Julian out of mind, and decided to meet some of the other residents.
Freshman orientation began shortly after I unpacked my bags. We did the campus tour, cringe-worthy icebreakers, and listened to speeches on the dangers of overdrinking. The only time I ever drank was after my high school prom, which ended with me on the bathroom floor for the entire night. Haunted by the memories, binge drinking wasn't on my to-do list. But as the festivities began, I accepted a beer that was offered to me and nearly coughed my lungs out after taking a puff from a joint. I'm human and wanted to fit in. Sue me.
The partying went on for the entire night but I excused myself once a fight broke out in the dorm's lobby. I laid in my bed, texted my parents to let them know I was alright, and tried to close my eyes. Julian entered the room a few minutes later, clothed in grey sweatpants and a tightly-fitting black t-shirt.
"Hey." That was all he said. He really was parsimonious with his words.
"Hey. How was the swim?"
"Good. Almost beat my record." He said this all while he took off his clothes. I could hear the fabric being thrown on the floor by his bed. I sat up and made sure to keep my eyes on his face, trying to be respectful. "You care if I'm naked?"
"What?" I almost choked.
"I sleep naked. Always have." He was down to nothing but a pair of black briefs.
"Oh... Uh... Yeah that's fine," I squeaked, looking away while I heard him strip off the underwear.
He laid in his bed, earbuds in. An eternity passed by while I stared at the ceiling, trying to imagine the view I would see if I just turned my head in his direction.
"You can look. If you want. At me."
Was this some kind of wish fulfillment? Was my puff from the joint messing with my head? Or did I actually hear this man tell me I could look at his naked body? I gulped. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I work hard for it. Attention doesn't bother me."
So I turned my head. His eyes met mine and he flashed that wicked smile again. My eyes navigated from his face to his shaven chest. A few black hairs surrounded his dark, erect nipples. In the line between his abs, a small trail of black hairs led my eyes down to his neatly trimmed pubes. And then I let my gaze soak in his uncut cock dangling between his legs. It was soft, smooth, and about hung about three inches. His balls were relaxed, shaven, and large. I couldn't help but think about how full they probably were.
"Like it?" he asked, as if I was trying a sample of his cooking. I just nodded, truly unable to speak. "Do you want to be naked too?"
"Oh. Well it is a little bit warm, I said." I took off my shirt, slightly embarrassed by the comparison.
"Nice," he said. "Sure you don't work out?"
"Just yoga sometimes."
"Are you flexible?" He was so casual, as if he wasn't re-creating every porn fantasy I had ever seen. At this point, my cock throbbed, trying to escape the restraints of my underwear and pajama bottoms. If he kept this up, I knew I would start leaking precum. I covered my erection with a blanket, trying my best to be subtle.
"A little. I can't do the splits or anything, but I can put my feet behind my head and stuff like that."
"Cool."
The tension settled a little bit while he continued to listen to whatever played on his headphones. I laid back, cognoscente of the tent my dick pitched from under the blankets. My mouth was completely dry while I tried to will myself to sleep.
"Do you like weed?" he asked. "I have brownies. Friend gave them to me."
"Like... special brownies?"
He laughed. "Yes. Wanna get stoned?"
"Oh. I've never really - "
He smiled. "I'll take care of you."
I won't lie. Those words sent a fire blazing in my pelvis. "Okay."
We ate the brownies and talked for a while. I learned that Julian was an engineering student in his second year. He wanted to design airplanes for the military when he got out of school. He only ever spoke a few words at a time, but he was thoughtful, engaging, and took an interest in me. Eventually, we put on some episodes of The Office and waited for the weed to kick in. I was nervous, but he seemed to be able to read when he needed to bring my mind back to the conversation. Aside from the awkward sexual tension before, Julian seemed like someone I could actually be friends with.
Then the weed hit. My chest tightened and he noticed when my breath quickened. I started to laugh. The absolute absurdity of the situation was so preposterous to me that I couldn't contain myself. And then he started to laugh - a deep, melodic bass. It was like we were laughing at each other's laughter in an endless feedback loop. I was so intrigued and shocked that this specimen of a man would even want to talk to me. I suddenly became aware of the fact that he was still naked and sitting next to me on my bed while we watched. And I was shirtless, not caring about the nudity at all. My erection dwindled and I was just comfortable being around Julian.
Eventually we both laid down in our separate beds, letting our minds wander. Julian let me talk most of the time but never let the conversation end.
"I'm glad you're my roommate," I eventually said. And I meant it.
"Me too," he said. "Night, Allan."
"Goodnight, Julian."
Still in the afterglow of the weed and the novelty of my new home, I spent the rest of the night just thinking, recalibrating my understanding of what university life would be like. At some point - I heard Julian's breath quickening and he let out a soft moan. There was a rhythmic creaking from his bed. I never turned my head to look, not wanting to ruin the images that my head conjured up of what was going on in his bed. Instead, I let my imagination run wild while my cock became inconsolably hard. I reached below the waistband of my pants and grasped my erection, slowly running my hand up and down, imagining it was Julian's soft fingers clasping it. Precum gathered at the tip of my cock and eventually started to drip down, my strokes becoming audible from the wetness. I didn't let it stop me. Testing the waters, I started to let out my own moans of pleasure and stroking myself faster, waiting to see if Julian would respond.
He did. That baritone voice, utterly entranced by his own pleasure, resonated through the room while he continued to pleasure himself. We never had to say anything. I never turned my head while I jerked myself off. I imagined Julian grasping my balls, sucking me, gently probing my prostate with his fingers, and eventually filling me with his load. The imagery, supplemented by his own gasps, filled me with a feral, primal pleasure I'd never felt in my life.
The final moan he let out before he finished sent me into orgasm. Shot after shot of cum erupted from my dick, shooting all over my chest. I audibly gasped as the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced caused my entire body to writhe in ecstasy My toes curled and I no longer cared how loud my groans were. Still gasping for air, I heard him say, "Damn. Nice shot."
I finally turned my head and saw his still-erect penis laying against his abs. It was easily eight inches long and thick enough that I could barely imagine wrapping my fingers around it. The moonlight through the window revealed the slight reflection of his silvery-white seed painted on his chest in splatters. There was no denying what had just happened.
Without a word, I stood up to look for a sock or a towel to wipe myself off. He did the same. Before I could get to my drawer he pulled something from his laundry basket. "Here, use this," he said, throwing me a lump of fabric. I managed to catch it and realized that he had tossed me his speedo from earlier. "I'm gonna wash it tomorrow."
I wiped myself off in utter disbelief. I could feel myself getting hard again as I thought about his underwear being soiled by my cum. Without asking, I took my shorts and briefs off, replacing them with the cum-soaked speedo. Julian watched me do it, not saying a word. He just nodded and his approval made me unexplainably satisfied. The rest of the night was surprisingly uneventful. We laid there in silence and I wondered if things would be "normal" the next day. Would he ask me to move out or completely change his attitude toward me after this? Would he ask me to keep this a secret or tell me it could never happen again? In that moment, completely engulfed in the afterglow of my orgasm, I didn't care. I let myself asleep, dreaming of all the things I hoped me and Julian would do as roommates.
