Roommate Late Development

Discussion in 'Fictitious Stories' started by writer2b, Jan 29, 2010.

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  1. writer2b

    writer2b Member

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    Chapter 1

    It all started at the beginning of College.

    I arrived a day early and was all unpacked before the majority of students had in arrived. The following day they began arriving and I waited in anticipation to see who my roommate would be. I hoped we would have stuff in common, that we could go to parties and he could be my 'wingman'. Knowing my luck, I figured he would probably be a nerd.

    That was pretty much my only concern in terms of my roommate - that he would be a geek. I had no qualms about sharing a room with another guy, after all I had shared a room with my brother Casper since he was born. We'd shared a bathroom with our two younger brothers Billy and Ben since they were born.

    As the day wore on, I admit I began to feel nervous. Finally, in the mid-afternoon the door opened and my new roommate walked in.

    My first thought was that he was tall. Taller than me. I'm 6ft 2' and he had to be a good inch or two taller than me. My second thought was he looked like he'd stepped out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalogue. He had white blond hair cut in a preppy style, blue eyes and a golden brown tan.

    My third thought was that my second thought was about the gayest thing a straight man could think.

    That happened in an instant at the same time as we shook hands and introduced ourselves.

    "I'm Ryan," I said.

    "Hi," he smiled. "I'm Andrew. Andrew Van Buren."

    Over the next hour as he unpacked we chatted although I did most of the talking. He was shy, which surprised me. I had assumed that all WASPs were the self-confident, if not to say arrogant types that you saw on TV and in films.

    The little I got out of him was that he'd gone to an all boys private school on the East Coast, he'd been in a few sports teams, but wasn't the star quarterback or anything, which was pretty similar to me (except I went to a public school in California). It turned out that we were doing quite a few of the same courses.

    I liked him and I figured I could have done a whole lot worse in terms of roommates. I'll admit, however, that I was a little jealous of his good looks.

    That's not to say that I'm bad looking. On a good day I reckon I'm an '8', but Andrew, he was a '10'. Easily.

    I figured that it was me who would be the wingman, but then I also reckoned that there would be plenty of hot chicks swarming around him and that getting his cast-offs would be no bad thing.

    The truth is, I was looking to score with as many women as possible - doesn't every straight guy aim for the same thing when they start college? I'd slept with 3 women (2 of those at the beach over the summer), which I thought was a pretty good start, but I hoped there'd be many more in the months to come.

    Anyway, after I'd told him about as much as I could about myself and got about as much as I thought I could out of him, I thought I would broach the topic of room etiquette.

    "If one of us brings a chick back we ought to agree a sign so that the other doesn't walk in," I said, cutting straight to the point.

    "Oh," he said, coloring a little. "Sure. It probably won't be a problem for me though," he said, coloring a little more.

    "Sure," I said, figuring he was either being sarcastic or very modest.

    "How about if we are 'entertaining' anyone we tie this tie around the door knob outside?" I suggested, going for a not-so-original method.

    He agreed and I left the tie on the table by the door.

    We chatted a bit more, again, I did most of the talking and I mentioned the big party for freshmen that was being put on and we agreed to check it out.
     
  2. writer2b

    writer2b Member

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    Chapter 2

    We headed to the party and as I predicted, about a second after we arrived all the hottest girls dumped the luckless guys they had been chatting with and swarmed like bees to honey around Andrew.

    At first I thought he was playing it cool, but as his face got redder and redder and he clumsily rebuffed various advances I realised that he had been telling the truth when he had said that he would not be needing to tie the tie around the door knob.

    Why was he letting all these women walk away? Did he have a girlfriend he hadn't mentioned?

    I quickly forgot about it as i picked up the pieces and started flirting with a couple of Andrew's disappointed cast-offs.

    To cut a long story short I ended up staying the night with one of them in her room.

    The next morning when I got back to our room, Andrew was having a shower. When he came out he had his towel around his waist and he blushed slightly when he saw me.

    "A successful night, I take it," he said, with a slight smile.

    "You could say that," I replied.

    He picked up his clothes from his bed and went back into the bathroom to change.

    When he came out, I stripped in order to have a shower and walked into the bathroom with my towel over my shoulder. I kept the door slightly ajar so that I could chat with him whilst I showered. His was even more monosyllabic than normal and I noticed as I looked over towards him that he was sitting on his bed with his back towards the bathroom.

    "You have a girlfriend?"

    "Nope, no girlfriend," he replied.

    "You do realise you could have had any girl at that party last night?" I asked.

    He didn't answer.



    The next few weeks passed pretty much the same way, save for the inconvenient interruption of classes.

    We'd go to a party every other night or so, girls would gather around him only to be turned away with much stammering and blushing and I would pick up the pieces, although not always successfully.

    "I just don't get it," said Matt, a friend I'd made in one of my classes. "Im not gay or anything, but even I can tell that he's fucking good looking and could have his pick of the women. Why doesn't he take advantage?"

    "You reckon he's gay?" asked Simon, another friend.

    "I dunno," I replied. "He's never mentioned it."

    "Maybe he's got a micro-dick," said Matt, with a laugh. Simon laughed as well.

    "I honestly couldn't tell you," I said.

    "What do you mean?"

    "I couldn't tell you whether he has a big one, a small one or a normal one."

    "You've shared a room and a bathroom with him for three weeks and you're telling me you haven't even caught a glimpse?" asked Simon incredulously. "It's not like I've wanted to see my roommate's dick, but you can't help it when sleep within five feet of someone.

    Matt nodded his agreement.

    As I explained to them, Andrew was about the most private person I had ever come across. I would have gone as far as saying he was positively OCD about it. Whenever he took a shower, had a piss or whatever, he locked the bathroom door. He changed in the bathroom if I was in the room and awake. I had just woken up one morning and opened my eyes to see him struggling to put on his boxers with his towel still around his waist. Even when I was asleep, it seemed, he wasn't prepared to be completely naked.

    I have to say that I found it quite odd. I'm not a naturist, or anything, but coming from a family of four boys and sharing a bathroom with all three of my brothers, we were pretty open about stuff.

    I saw all my brothers naked pretty frequently.

    Only 6 months ago, Ben, who was now 13, had excitedly run into my and Casper's room to proudly show us his first little pubic hairs. We'd even gone as far as having measuring sessions from the time I first started puberty. I therefore knew that Casper, who was 16, was about a centimeter smaller than I was at his age and that Ben was about a centimeter longer than I had been at his age. In fact, he was as big as Billy (14 and a half), which I knew bothered Billy much more than he let on.

    So, we were open about such things in my family. Writing that makes it sound a little creepy, but it wasn't like that at all. I was the oldest and they had looked up to me (I kidded myself that they still did) so that when I had started getting pubes they'd been fascinated. I'd kept my measurements for my own interest and then they had too.

    I couldn't understand Andrew's body shyness. He was broad shouldered, slim and toned on his top half so unless Matt was right and he had a small dick, his behaviour was a little obsessive. Even if he did have a small dick, it's not like I'd care or even that it mattered. As I'd told Billy: "it's not the size of the tool that matters, it's the skill of the workman."

    Maybe it was easy for me to say that because I didn't have anything to be ashamed of. I'm definitely above average: 5 inches long and 4.5 inches in girth when flaccid and 7.5 inches long and 6 inches in girth when erect.

    Anyway, I digress. The point was that Andrew clearly had some sort of problem and, as his buddy, I wanted to find out what it was and if I could help.

    I couldn't just ask him, he'd simply deny there was a problem. If I could determine whether or not the problem was that he was worried about his penis size then I was sure I could sit him down 'man to man' and try and help his confidence.

    The only problem I faced was: how was I going to see his dick when he kept it so tightly under wraps?
     
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  3. writer2b

    writer2b Member

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    Chapter 3

    I didn't let anything on to Matt or Simon, but over the next few days I tried every stratagem I could think of to catch a glimpse of what Andrew was packing.

    My first attempt involved the bathroom. When Andrew was out I broke the lock on the bathroom door and waited for him to take his next shower.

    That evening, before we headed out Andrew took a shower.

    "While you're taking a shower I'm just gonna get a Coke from the machine," I said as he went into the bathroom. "You want one?"

    "I'm cool," was his response.

    I went out and waited until I could hear the shower running. I quietly crept back into our bedroom and over to the bathroom. I peered in, but couldn't see much through the fogged up shower door. I would have to go in.

    To give me an excuse for going in I slid my wallet along the bathroom floor and then went in.

    "Sorry mate, I left my wallet in here when I took a shower," I said, striding in and picking up the wallet. I was right by the shower. Andrew had his back to me and kept it that way.

    "N . . .N . . . No problem," he stammered out.

    Itwas clear that I would have to wait until he was getting out of the shower, but I couldn't very well walk in on him again or he'd get suspicious.

    The following morning I pretended to be asleep as Andrew got up and went to the bathroom. He took a long shower and I quietly got out and waited by the door to peer in as he got out.

    Finally, the water stopped and I heard the door open. I looked in and to my surprise Andrew was wearing his swimming shorts.

    "For fuck's sake," I muttered to myself.

    It was clear that a more cunning stratagem was required.

    I spent the next couple of days thinking about it and I remembered Andrew mentioning that he played poker and was quite good. If I could get him drunk and persuade him to play strip poker . . . Would he go for it?He'd have to be very drunk to get over his inhibitions and I would have to play dumb and pretend I'd never played poker before . . .

    I decided nothing ventured, nothing gained.

    Reading this, you must think I am a pervert or something. After all, what business is it of mine if the guy doesn't want to show the world his dick? Why is it so important for me to see it?

    The honest answer is that I had come to really like Andrew, as a friend. He was a nice guy once you got passed his shyness. I could see that there was something stopping him from making the most of college life and I wanted to know what it was. When I say "making the most of college life" i don't just mean girls and sex. Whatever was bothering him made him almost crippled with shyness around guys as well. I was about the only person he'd said more than a sentence to in 3 weeks.

    I was his friend and I was going to help him, even if it meant tying him down and stripping him, which I was seriously considering if my poker ploy didn't pan out.
     
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  4. Edy

    Edy New Member

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    i'm looking forward to the next chapter : )
     
  5. writer2b

    writer2b Member

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    Chapter 4

    "Hey Andrew," I called out to him later that day.

    "Yeah."

    "You know you mentioned you play poker?"

    "Yeah."

    "Well, I was wondering whether you'd teach me. I've never played and I'm told every guy at College does."

    "Of course, I will," he said, smiling. "When do you want to start."

    "How about this evening?"

    "You're not going to that party down at Beaufort House?" he asked, referring to a bar in town.

    "To be honest, I'm kind partied out for the next few days, but I don't want to stop you going if you were planning to."

    "Nah, I'm could do with a night in too."

    "Cool. It's a date," I said with a wink.


    That evening he started taking me through the basics, which was kind of boring seeing as I had been playing for years. I had bought a bottle of whisky with my trusty fake ID and we slowly made our way through it, although I made sure Andrew drank much more than me.

    After maybe three hours he was pretty drunk.

    "You're pretty good for a beginner," he slurred at me.

    "I've always been a quick learner," I replied. "Besides I ain't just an extremely handsome face."

    He laughed.

    "Seeing as we're both as broke as each other, how about we play for different stakes?" I suggested after another half hour in which he got progressively drunker.

    "Like what?"

    "Strip poker!" I said with a wink.

    "I dunno," he said.

    "Come on! You're a pro and I'm just a beginner. You'll have me naked in no time!"

    I could see him struggling with himself.

    "Surely you're not scared of being beat by someone who's only played for three hours?"

    "It's not that," he said.

    "I think it is. I think you're chicken."

    "Fine, fine," he said rising to my bait.

    "Excellent! We're both wearing shirts, t-shirts, pants, i'm assuming underwear and socks. Underwear is last to go, obviously, but the rest can go in any order."

    We played and I made sure to lose the first few rounds. I'd taken off my shirt, t-shirt and socks and I then made sure to win the next two. He lost his socks and his shirt.

    The next hand was long and tense. I knew I'd have to get down to my underwear if I was ever going to tempt him into playing down to the final head to head so I duly lost the hand.

    "Fuck!" I exclaimed in mock annoyance.

    "Take 'em off, boy!" he said in a stage Southern accent, as relaxed and open as I'd ever seen him.

    I sat in my boxer briefs and indicated for him to deal.

    "You sure you want to carry on," he said, raising an eye brow.

    "I'm not scared. My beginner's luck has got to kick in some time," I replied, filling his glass to the brim with whisky.

    He dealt the cards and took a big gulp of the liquor.

    I was ruthless in the next two hands and he was soon down to his boxers.

    "Here's to the final hand. May the best man win." I said, filling his glass to the brim again, finishing the bottle. My glass was only half full and I knocked it back. Hesitating he did the same, spilling some on his chest.

    Five minutes later I called him, laying down a full house.

    He stared glassily at my cards.

    "Well?" I said, knowing I had him beat.

    He got up from the table and stumbled against his chair as he walked over to his bed. His cards were face side down on the table.

    "Where're you going?" I asked. "Don't keep me in suspense!"

    "You win." he mumbled, sitting down on his bed.

    I was about to say something when, to my horror I could see that he'd begun to cry.

    "Mate, what's up?" I said, walking over to him. "You can't be that much of a sore loser!"

    He smiled slightly.

    "I can't believe I'm fucking crying," he said. "Fucking loser." he slapped himself on the head.

    "Mate, tell me what's wrong. Please."

    "I've wanted to tell you," he said. "I really feel like we've become good friends these last few weeks."

    "We have," I said.

    "I've never told anyone this. None of my friends at school. Nobody."

    Was he about to come out to me?

    The only people who know are my father and brother and that's only because it happened to them too."

    Huh?! That rules out him coming out of the closet, doesn't it?

    "My family, at least the males in my family. We have a . . ." he paused, clearly grasping for the right word. "It's not a 'condition' that's not the right word."

    The next pause was longer and I waited, thinking that any interruption on my part would not help him be forthcoming.

    "We go through puberty like every other guy. Except . . ."

    He paused again, clearly struggling to say the words.

    "Except our genitals. They're the last thing to start developing. The very last thing. Right at the end. My Father didn't get pubic hair until he was nearly 19 and my brother was 18 and a half."

    "Right," I said. This wasn't what I expected.

    "I lost, so I've got to lose my boxers and then you'll see."

    With that he got up, turned around, dropped his boxers and stood with his back to me. He then turned around slowly.

    I'm ashamed to admit that I actually gasped.

    As I've said before, Andrew was tall, broad shouldered, slim but toned. In other words, he had a body most 18 year olds would kill for.

    Except for one thing that was now staring me in the face.

    Below his six pack, instead of a happy trail leading down from his belly button there was not a hair. In fact, there wasn't a single hair in the area between his belly button and the base of his penis and it was clear that this wasn't because he had shaved it.

    As for his penis and balls, well, my 13 year old brother was better endowed them him. His genitals looked like those of your average 12 year old: a small thin penis and small balls, although these looked were hanging down quite far.

    Andrew had gone bright red and I am sure my involuntary gasp had added to his shame.

    "Mate, I don't know what to say," I finally said.

    "There's nothing you can say. I've just got to wait for nature to take its course. At least that will happen quickly."

    "What do you mean?"

    "Well, once our genitals start developing they develop quickly. I am pretty sure that my balls have started growing. They feel like they're bigger than they were even at the start of term. I think they're hanging lower."

    "Well, there's only one way to find out. You need to start measuring your dick every month or so to keep track."

    "Yeah, I started that a few months ago," he said with a sheepish grin. "It's 5.5cm soft at the moment, which is how long it's been for as long as I can remember."

    He pulled up his boxers again and we stared at each other.

    "I know that that must have been really tough for you," I said. "I just wanted to tell you that I really appreciate you telling me."

    "To be honest," he said, breaking into a broad grin "I was getting tired of your lame attempts to see my dick!"

    I burst out laughing and he did the same.
     
  6. writer2b

    writer2b Member

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    Chapter 5

    After the events of poker night, Andrew and I became even closer. It was clear that the weight of his secret had stopped him from being completely at ease with me and now that he had shared it he was much more open, much more relaxed and I found myself liking him more and more.

    Three weeks passed and without even noticing it, Andrew had become my best friend. I'd plenty of male friends from school and now at College too, but Andrew was different. At first I didn't realise the extent of it, but then it dawned on me that I hadn't got laid or even thought about getting laid in the past three weeks.

    We'd been to quite a few parties, but we'd spent the whole time together. Matt and Simon and some of the other guys would sit and chat too, but they'd soon pair off with girls leaving Andrew and I chatting away.

    He was the closest friend I had ever had.

    That morning, three weeks later, Andrew came out of the bathroom with a shy smile on his face.

    "Can I show you something?"

    "Sure."

    "I got my first pubes," he said, letting his towel drop from around his waist. I peered at the base of his penis and, lo and behold, there were a few small golden brown hairs dotted about.

    "Hey man, congratulations!" I said.

    He was putting his towel around his waist again when I stopped him.

    "Wait a second," I said. "Am I imagining things or has your dick got bigger?"

    I looked at it closer and it definitely seemed longer, although not any thicker.

    "6.5cm," he said with a grin.

    I let out whistle. "1cm in three weeks? That's pretty impressive."

    A couple of nights later I was asleep. I woke with a start. At first I couldn't work out why and then I felt the warm sticky feeling in my crotch.

    "Fuck!" I exclaimed under my breath. I'd just had my first wet dream since I was 14. I was about to get out of bed when I remembered the dream. This hadn't been like any other I'd had. There hadn't been any women. There had been Andrew.

    I'd had a sexual dream about Andrew.

    I was confused and not a little mortified. What did this mean? I'd never been interested in men before. Sure, I'd jacked off with a few buddies when I was 14 or 15, but doesn't every kid at that age?

    My oldest younger, Casper, was gay. He'd come out to me (and then the rest of the family) less than a year ago. He'd told me that he'd always known he was gay, right from as far back as he could remember. He'd never been interested in girls, other than as friends.

    That wasn't true of me.

    I couldn't be gay. Even if I was, then what was I going to do? I couldn't make a pass at Andrew. I didn't know for sure, but when we'd discussed it he'd said that the reason he didn't follow up on all the interest from women was because he was worried they might find out about his lack of development. That implied that he would have followed up on it if he could, which implied that he was straight.

    Nope, I was not going to be telling Andrew about my dream. I wasn't going to lose our friendship over something that was clealy just down to us having shared his secret and us having spent so much time together.

    Another three weeks passed and I grew increasingly confused. Andrew and I were still tight, but I made an effort to try and hook up with some girls. The first time seemed to go really well. We'd gone back to her room and we were just beginning to fuck when Andrew's face popped into my head. Try as I might I couldn't get his face, or his body for that matter, out of my head as I pumped in and out of this girl.

    I managed to finish the job, but it was the least satisfying fuck I'd ever had.

    As for the next time, well that was even more disastrous.

    Again, I was back in a girl's room, but this time we got nowhere near screwing.

    I couldn't get it up.

    "This has never happened to me before," I said.

    "Don't worry," she said. "I'm sure it happens to every guy once in a while."

    "It must be the beer," I said. "I'm sorry. I really am."

    I got out of the bed, quickly got dressed and left with my tail between my legs.
     
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  7. Elro

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    Very interesting story ! I'm eager for more !
     
  8. wonder_boy

    wonder_boy Member

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    Great Story! keep it up!
     
  9. mastersergeant

    mastersergeant New Member

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    I look forward to the next installment(s).
     
  10. bigbulge86

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    Awesome, im looking forward to see Andrews development to the end!
     
  11. jetjok9

    jetjok9 New Member

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    hey, writer2b-- you already are an engaging writer! great story, you have me hooked...or should I say the story is growing on me??
     
  12. mattsrod7

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    cant wait
     
  13. writer2b

    writer2b Member

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    Chapter 6

    A couple of nights later I was lying in bed, unable to sleep, my thoughts buzzing around my head.

    Andrew was asleep, although it was a restless sleep. He was muttering to himself and then let out a series of panting breaths followed by a groan.

    "Are you alright, buddy?" I asked, turning on the light.

    Andrew had woken up and was sitting up with a slightly dazed expression.

    "Bad dream?"

    "Um . . . not really. The opposite in fact."

    I looked at him quizzically.

    "I think I may have just had my first wet dream," he said.

    I laughed and he smiled.

    "Well, that's quite a hallmark. Are you sure?"

    "Well, there's a whole load of sticky stuff in my crotch area and I had a pretty funky dream," he said, coloring slightly.

    "Let me guess: hot women licking you all over or something like that?"

    "Something like that," he replied, coloring even more. "I'd better get myself cleaned up."

    He got out of bed and took a quick shower.

    "How are things developing otherwise?" I asked when he came out, giving him an expressive look.

    "I can show you if you like," he said.

    "If you like," I replied trying not to sound too eager, although I found that I was.

    He came and stood by my bed and dropped his towel.

    It had been a little over three weeks since I'd last seen his genitals, but it was incredible the changes that that time had wrought. The four or five pubic hairs that had barely been visible to the naked eye had multiplied and there were dozens of longer wispy hairs, althought they were still only around the base of his penis. The penis itself looked a little longer, although again it was no thicker. His balls had definitely grown and were hanging low in a darker scrotum. I could almost have been looking at Billy's genitals.

    "You weren't kidding when you said you would develop quickly, were you?" I remarked. "Your dick's definitely grown more."

    "7.5cm soft," he said.

    "How about hard?" I asked.

    "I haven't bothered measuring it hard," was his reply.

    "You should," I told him. "I kept track of it both soft and hard when I was going through puberty.

    "Ok," he said.

    I was about to say something when I noticed that his dick had begun to swell. In seconds the blood engorged it and it lengthened and thickened and began to rise until it was pointing up towards his belly button.

    He grabbed a ruler from his bedside table draw and laid it flat against the top of his penis.

    "12cm," he said, with a disappointed tone.

    I barely heard him as I noticed with horror that my own dick had hardened. I moved in my bed to make sure that no tent was visible.

    "You should get one of those tape measure things so you can measure girth as well," I said.

    "Way ahead of you pal," he grinned, fishing a tape measure from the same draw.

    "It's 5cm in girth when it's soft and . . ." he paused as he wrapped the tape around his erection. "9cm when hard."

    He walked over to his chest of draws and pulled out a clean pair of pyjama shorts.

    "I'm really glad I have someone to share this with," he said, looking at me shyly.

    "Buddy that's what friends are for. Now get back to sleep and try not to dream of any more naked ladies," I replied with a wink.

    "I won't," he replied.

    In a few minutes he was asleep and I listened to his rhythmic breathing.

    Despite myself I was still hard and without knowing it I had begun rubbing up and down its length. I tried desperately to think about women: first the last few I had slept with, then the girls I had fooled around with at home as a teenager right back to the first girl I ever kissed and finally Mrs Jackson, the hot MILF who used to live next door and who had been my first crush.

    Try as I might, however, the images wouldn't stick. My mind kept on turning back to Andrew and to what I had just seen: his hard penis. The image stuck and it only took a couple of minutes before I orgasmed, managing to bite back the groan of pleasure.

    Ashamed and confused, I tidied up the mess with the tissues on my bedside table and then lay awake before sleep finally overtook me.
     
  14. ozze

    ozze Member

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    great storey mate keep it up cheers
     
  15. writer2b

    writer2b Member

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    Chapter 7

    Looking back now, I can admit that I did not behave well in the following weeks.

    I was so muddled up by what I was feeling that I didn't know what to do. I am not using that as an excuse, but I hope it is at least mitigation for my actions.

    I withdrew from the close friendship with Andrew. I was so convinced that the whole situation with him was to blame for my confusion that I felt sure that if I disengaged that all would go back to normal.

    I avoided being alone with Andrew to the extent that I even made sure that he was asleep whenever I went back to our room at night.

    As much as I avoided him and limited our contact even as we shared a room I felt empty and lonely. Sitting with Matt and Simon having drinks was not the same without Andrew.

    The truth was I was miserable and the distance made no difference in terms of my ability to pick up women. My heart wasn't in it, no matter how much I tried.

    The weeks passed. Thanksgiving came and went and then the Christmas holidays.

    The second week of December saw everyone headng home and I packed my bag and left when Andrew was out.


    My misery and confusion was translated into a sarcastic anger back at home. I snapped at everyone: my brothers, my parents. Everyone.

    A week after I came home Casper confronted me.

    "Why are you being such an asshole?" he asked.

    "What?!"

    "You've been an angry, miserable bastard ever since you got back. You've upset everyone, which must be some kind of record."

    "I don't know what you're talking about."

    "Really?" Casper replied. "You're such a fucking asshole. What the fuck is your problem?!"

    We were in our room as he confronted me and I sat down on my bed.

    "I'm sorry," I said after a while. "I'm sorry."

    I began to weep, sitting on the end of my bed. I couldn't stop, as much as I wanted to and as ashamed I was to being crying in front of my younger brother.

    Eventually, I told him everything.

    "Am I gay?" I asked desperately.

    "Ryan, the only person who can answer that is you," replied my brother.

    "Contrary to popular belief, there is no such thing as a 'gaydar'. The only person who can say whether you are gay or not is you."

    "But, I don't know what I am," I said.

    "I don't know either."

    "Fuck!" I exclaimed.

    "I'd love to meet the guy who made my macho brother gay, though," said Casper with a wicked grin.

    "Fuck off," I said, smiling at him. "Thanks for this."

    "No problemo. You're my brother and whatever happens, I love you. We all do."
     
  16. rabudo

    Verified Gold Member

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    very pomising, keep going!
     
  17. jelqer

    Verified Gold Member

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    Cool story! I like it a lot.
     
  18. writer2b

    writer2b Member

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    Chapter 8

    Casper and I had talked a lot more about it. He said that I needed to tell Andrew everything and I told him I would.

    The Christmas holidays ended and I headed back to College, a pit of nervousness in my stomach.

    Andrew hadn't got back when I reached our room. I sat on my bed and waited.

    After what seemed like an eternity I heard his key in the door. He walked in.

    "Hi," I said, with a smile.

    "Hi," he said.

    "Good break?"

    "Yeah, you?"

    "Yeah."

    I sighed. There was an awkwardness between us that was no doubt because of my behaviour during the last 6 weeks or so of the last semester.

    "Look, I want to apologise for the way I was for the last few weeks of semester," I said.

    "It was like you were avoiding me."

    "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to it to turn out that way."

    "What was wrong?"

    Here was the moment. The Truth.

    "The truth is . . ." I sighed and then chickened out.

    "The truth is that I started seeing this girl. I really liked her, but then I found out she was cheating on me and I was crushed. I guess I just sulked for ages."

    "Oh," Andrew replied. "Why didn't you tell me? Isn't that wat buddies do: tell each other things and help each other out?"

    "I know. I'm sorry. I feel such a dick. You told me the most difficult thing you could tell me and I couldn't even share a stupid broken heart. I'm an asshole."

    "Yeah, you are," he said. He grinned at me. "But I don't mind being friends with an asshole."

    We carried on chatting away as he unpacked and I kidded myself that things were back to normal between us. Sadly, deep down I knew that The Lie would be there between us.

    He finished packing and decided to have a shower.

    I noticed with amusement as he undressed that he had started wearing boxer-briefs in place of his normal boxers. In fact, he was sporting quite a package.

    "What are you grinning at?"

    "I see you've changed your choice of underwear," I replied.

    He blushed. "Yeah."

    "I can tell things have carried on growing," I prompted him.

    With a smile he walked over and dropped his boxer-briefs.

    It had been about two months since my last 'inspection'. The wispy pubes at the base of his penis were now a patch of thicker, coarser hairs at the base and spreading out to the sides. Not a 'bush' yet, but pretty impressive given that just over 3 months ago he had been showing me his first hairs.

    His penis was longer, but the biggest change was in girth. It was almost as though he had been stung by something and his penis had swollen up. It was almost disproportionately thick in relation to its length.

    His balls were now large and hung down a good couple of inches below the end of his penis.

    "9cm long and 10.5cm in girth," he told me, answering the question that was on my lips.

    Again he made himself hard and I watched as his penis lengthened, thickened and sprung to attention in a matter of seconds.

    "14cm long and 12cm in girth."

    "Watch out ladies, Andrew Van Buren is coming to get you!" I exclaimed, slapping him on th back.

    He smiled faintly and then headed to the shower.


    Although we were as good friends as ever, I was right about The Lie. It sat there between us, although I was the only one who knew about it. I wanted more than anything to tell him and I had even plucked up the courage to do so a couple of weeks later when Andrew told a lie of his own.

    It was the late afternoon and I headed back to our room after a game of basketball with Matt and Simon and a few other guys.

    When I walked in Andrew was sitting on his bed and he was not alone. There was a girl sitting with him, her hand on his upper arm. She quickly snatched it away and it was clear that I had interrupted something.

    She quickly said goodbye to Andrew, gave me a strange smile and left.

    "I'm sorry, mate," I said. "You should have put the tie on the door."

    "It wasn't like that," he said.

    I then I remembered that I'd seen Andrew hanging out with her towards the end of last semester.

    "Buddy, there's nothing to be ashamed about. She's hot."

    "We're just friends," he said, his crimson cheeks giving away the lie.

    "Whatever you say," I replied.

    I was pissed off. Pissed off with myself for being jealous. Pissed off with myself for having been about to tell Andrew that I thought I might be gay and that I had a crush on him. Pissed off with Andrew for . . . I didn't know what, but pissed off all the same.

    I had harbored this fantasy that when I told him The Truth he would tell me that he felt the same way. We'd kiss and then make love.

    Fucking stupid.

    I hardened my resolve and locked The Truth up deep down.
     
  19. nealin

    nealin New Member

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    Up at 3 am just to read our next chapter... great story telling.
     
  20. ozze

    ozze Member

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    just gets better mate good stuff cheers
     
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