My Roommate’s Bitch Ch. 01
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For the record, my name is Matthew. The story I am about to tell is true, though I’m not sure I believe it myself anymore. In the beginning it all seemed so innocent.
When John and I first moved in together it was supposed to be a temporary thing. His old roommate bailed on him and I needed a place to live that was closer to where we worked. He was a warehouse jock and I was a nerd from logistics. We ran with different crowds and were interested in different things, at least we assumed. We never would have thought that we’d want to stick around each other, and yet the second night after I moved in John came home while I was sitting in the living room playing Madden on Xbox. He sat down next to me, picked up the spare controller, and we’ve been friends ever since.
It turned out that John really only had two interests; video games and women. As it turned out, those were two things I was quite fond of as well. Of course, John was more successful with both, in fact in the area of women he was a master. On average, five nights a week he brought someone home from the bar or the club and not typically the same girl twice. His hobby didn’t bother me. He would take his dates quickly to his bedroom and I was free to go out or stay and listen to the show through the paper thin walls. John didn’t care, and if the girl he was with did, well, John didn’t care. He even took me out with him at least one night a week. We’d hang out and drink until something caught his eye and then he’d politely excuse himself. Sometimes he would pretend like he was there to get me a date, but his needs always came first. I didn’t mind, though. John was John, and even if he was his own first priority, he always stepped in if someone tried to harass me or I got too close to another fight already in progress.
That’s why, when the company we worked for decided to buy a new, bigger warehouse across town two years later and John got laid off, I wasn’t upset that he couldn’t pay his half of the rent. He was more than a roommate, he was my best friend. Besides, I made way more money than he did and could pay all our bills easily. The only reason I stayed in the apartment was because we were friends. I could have moved out and gotten my own place a long time ago if I really wanted. I had faith he would find another job and didn’t mind having his back while he looked.
John remained unemployed a lot longer than I thought he would and despite being broke he managed to hit the clubs just as much, those that didn’t have a cover charge, and still brought home the same volume of strange women.
After two months had passed I started to worry if my roommate was taking advantage of me. It didn’t feel like he was, but I didn’t want him to think I would take care of the bills forever. I considered talking to him about how his job hunt was going, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. One morning I tried to start the conversation but couldn’t go through with it. I was his friend, not his father. That was the first night I got a knock on the door in the middle of the night. It was one of John’s girls. She didn’t even wait for me to answer, just crept in quietly and pounced on the bed, sliding down my pajama pants and proceeding to fellate me like it was no big deal. Just as quickly as she arrived she left, never saying a word. From that day on, once, sometimes twice a week that knock would come, each time a different girl came in and went down on me. John never said it, and I never asked, but I knew that was his way of paying the rent. I didn’t mind it, in fact, those girls were better than money to me. My sexual experience was limited, and I’d had no luck with women since moving in with John. There he was, taking care of me. I felt relieved. I didn’t care what John did anymore. He could get a job or not, he was more than fulfilling his obligations as far as I was concerned.
John eventually got another job and was able to start paying half of the rent again, but the late night knocks didn’t stop. Maybe he just got used to propping up his dates to give me a thrill, or maybe he was just sharing the wealth; I don’t know. It wasn’t until Cassy-bella came around that I stopped getting my midnight visits.
The first time I saw her, five feet, one hundred and no pounds of tits and ass I didn’t think anything of her. She was just another one of John’s girls. The second time I saw her I took note, but a two-night stand wasn’t completely out of the question for my roommate. It wasn’t until the third or fourth time that I started to take her seriously.
That woman had some kind of spell over John. She started coming over practically every night and always seemed like she was in a bad mood. She would complain silivri escort about John’s job, or about the small size of the apartment. She would yell at him for looking at some other woman or not looking at her enough. It always turned into an argument, and then the argument turned into sex. Cassy-bella wouldn’t go quietly into John’s bedroom though, she preferred the couch for their makeup romp and it didn’t matter if I was around or not. At first I would get up and leave the room but it didn’t take long to realize I didn’t have to. The couple was not shy about stripping and fucking right there in front of me. Even though I had grown to despise Cassy-bella there was something about watching her ride his cock that turned me on more than anything I had ever seen. Still, I skipped most of their shows and even during the ones I stayed in the room for I pretended to be doing something else. I didn’t want to seem like a creep.
Cassy-bella eventually disappeared like all of John’s other girlfriends, but not for nearly a year. There was no big blowout argument, no slamming of doors or threats of excessive violence to mark her passing. One day she just didn’t come over, and my roommate didn’t seem to be expecting her. I knew something must have happened. Despite pretending to be the same John that could care less about the current woman in his life, he was clearly not his normal happy self. He didn’t pick up where he left off going to the bar. He just hung around the apartment with me after work, playing video games or watching movies. Months passed, and then one day John didn’t come home from work.
His job was further away from home than mine, so I always got home before him. Typically I’d pick up a movie or rent a game and we’d spend the evening drinking beer around the entertainment center. Maybe it wasn’t as exciting as the days of John’s girls and their midnight blowjobs but we had each other, best friends. I wouldn’t say that I worried when he didn’t come home, but I noticed.
At nine o’clock he finally walked through the door, cursing. “Do you know what that stupid cunt did?” He asked me, rage in his voice.
The question caught me off guard. “You mean Cassy?” I asked. Neither one of us had spoken her name since the last time she came to the apartment.
“Yeah, how many other stupid cunts do you know?” John threw his coat at the wall. It hit with a loud clap and slid to the floor.
“I thought she was out of the picture,” I said.
He laughed and slumped down on the couch. “Yeah, she’s out of the picture alright. But first she went and told all the ladies at the bar that I’ve got some kind of horrible sexually transmitted disease. And they believed her! I was there for an hour trying to convince them I wasn’t infectious. I even showed one of them my cock to prove it, but that just got me kicked out.”
I laughed despite myself.
“And then I went over to the club, and I don’t know what she told them but the bouncer wouldn’t even let me in. I asked him what I ever did, and he told me ‘You know what you did’.” He deepened his voice in imitation of the bouncer. I wasn’t sure if I should be amused or not. I was somewhat happy that John was trying to get his social life back to where it was, but a little disappointed he had left me behind to do it.
“She couldn’t have turned everyone against you,” I said.
“No, but she turned enough of them. It’s going to take me forever to fix this. I need to get laid now.” His voice was almost desperate.
“There are other places you can pick up women, you know,” I reminded him.
“Where, work? I already slept with all those girls. The supermarket? No thanks. I don’t need some worn out old soccer mom trying to trick me into being her kid’s new daddy. I know better than that.” He slumped down on the couch next to me. “I need to get laid man, seriously. The last load I dumped was into that stupid cunt that got me into this mess three months ago.”
“Sounds like you need to jerk off then,” I joked. Well, it wasn’t really a joke. It really sounded like he needed to jerk off.
John moaned. “Yeah, right. I don’t need to jerk myself off, man. You’ve seen me in action. I’ve got girls lining up to jerk me off.” That was the first time my roommate had talked about women, or his aptitude for getting them into his pants, since he had stopped dating Cassy-bella.
I pretended like I was looking around. “I dunno, John. I don’t see any. You sure you don’t want to borrow my lotion?”
He cringed. “This is serious, man. I need to cum right now or my balls are going to explode.” He said it one word at a time, like there was something I just wasn’t understanding.
“I’m şirinevler escort being serious,” I said. “Go get my lotion if you need it. It’s in the drawer by my nightstand. It’s good stuff.”
He shook his head dismissively. “I can’t do that shit. It’s too much work.”
“It’s that or death by blue ball related explosion,” I laughed.
A look crossed John’s face like a cartoon cat who had just figured out a way to catch the mouse that had been antagonizing him all episode. The room almost seemed to get brighter by virtue of the lightbulb that should have appeared over his head. “Give me a handjob,” he said casually.
“What?” I almost yelled. “Fuck no, dude. Give yourself a handjob.”
“I told you,” he responded in an almost secretive tone, “I can’t do that shit. I can’t concentrate, I spend all my time worrying about the pace and burning my dick off. I can’t cum that way. You have to do it.”
“I’m not gay,” I said sternly. This whole conversation was becoming ludicrous. I honestly couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.
“No, no, no,” he scrambled, turning to face me on the couch. “I’m not asking for any gay shit. I’m serious dude, all I need is a little helping hand. Just for tonight. You owe me that much.”
“How do I owe you a handjob?” I asked indignantly.
John talked quickly. “You know how. All those girls I sent into your room. I got you off God knows how many times and you can’t even help me out once. I need it, man. I’ll never mention it again, I promise. It’ll be like the whole thing never happened.”
It bothered me that his logic made sense to me. He had helped me got off, however indirectly, on numerous occasions. I never would have thought in a million years that John could talk me into giving him a handjob, but now there I was, considering it. “You just want me to jerk you off?” I asked, still not willing to commit.
My question was irrelevant. John knew as soon as I said anything but no that he was going to have his way. He started to unbutton his pants as he thanked me. “Yeah man, just stroke it a little. It’s been months I’m gonna cum in like three seconds. Oh man, you are saving my life here. I owe you a big one. I promise once I get all this nonsense cleared up I am going to get you some real action, none of this blowjob shit. You are going to have real sex, my friend.”
His words actually made me feel better. I knew John would come through on that promise. A quick handjob didn’t seem so bad if it would get me some pussy out of the deal. Of course, who knew when that would be after what Cassy-bella did to his reputation but he would bounce back eventually. “Just whip it out and let’s get this over with,” ten words I never thought I would say in my life.
For whatever reason, John took off his t-shirt and slid his pants down to his ankles, kicking them off his feet and across the room. It was hard not to compare his body to mine. Physically we had a lot in common, we were both the same height, 5’10” with brown hair and brown eyes, but John had twenty pounds on me and wore it much better. We were both in decent shape, but I was soft and scrawny while he was tight and every single muscle on his body, while not impressive mass-wise, was well defined. Looking at his washboard stomach I couldn’t help but feel jealous.
“Why are you getting naked?” I asked.
“Comfort,” he answered quickly, pushing his boxer briefs down to the floor. His eraction sprang up like it was attached to a spring; seven inches of tan, circumcised cock pointing straight at the ceiling. “Now come on, I’m dying over here.”
I didn’t know what to do. I just stared at John’s cock awkwardly. Suddenly I was very nervous. “Do you want me to use some lotion or something?” I asked, trying to stall.
“Nah,” he shook his head. “Just jerk it. I like it to chafe a little.”
I moved closer to him and reached over, wrapping my hand around his manhood. It felt surprisingly warm to the touch. Immediately, John let out a loud moan, scaring me. I froze, holding him in the palm of my hand. It wasn’t unpleasant at all. In fact, I kind of liked it. Suddenly I was reminded of him and Cassy-bella on that very couch, John on top of her, ramming his powerful tool between her legs. I was starting to get turned on.
“Well? Are you just going to stare at it all day, or are you going to get me off?”
I snapped back into the moment and began moving my hand, slowly pumping his erection up and down. John leaned back and closed his eyes, surely blocking out the image of me and replacing it with one of his more beautiful conquests. I couldn’t look away, I was mesmerized şişli escort by his cock. It was so warm, like every drop of blood in his body was flowing towards that point of his body. I can even feel his pulse, throbbing steadily in the veins that puffed out and ran up its length. A bead of precum gathered at the tip, and I wondered, just for a second, what it might taste like.
“I can’t cum this way,” he said after a few minutes. “Put it in your mouth,” he moaned.
“What? No,” I practically yelled. At first I was scared that I had accidentally done something to reveal my runaway thoughts, but with his eyes shut as tight as they were I realized that even if I had he never would have seen it. Regardless, I definitely wasn’t sucking my roommates cock. “We agreed on a handjob, that’s it. No gay shit, remember?”
“Aw,” John moaned. “That is a hand job, man. You can’t just stroke it, every girl knows you have to suck on it at least a little bit. Just put the head in your mouth, that’s all you have to do. Keep it warm, I’ll warn you when I’m going to cum so you can take it out.”
I don’t know if that sounded harmless to me at the time, or if I really just wanted to justify my desire to taste John’s fluid. “We’ll never talk about this again,” I confirmed.
“Yeah, just put it in your mouth.”
I leaned forward, bringing my face within inches of John’s throbbing cock. I watched it for a minute, ticking like the second hand of a watch. I could smell it, a thick but not at all unpleasant musk that emanated from between his legs. I had never had a gay thought in my life before that moment, but at that time my mouth was watering. I parted my lips and slid his cock into my mouth, wiping the drop of precum I had previously been observing with my tongue. It had only the slightest bit of taste to it, like weak saltwater.
With the head of his cock between my lips I continued to stroke his shaft, pulling it upwards toward my face and then pushing it back down. With each upstroke I felt the tip touch my tongue and was once again rewarded with the taste of his preliminary fluids. I started to improvise, sliding the tip of my tongue in circles around his head. My free hand moved to his testicles, holding them gently in the palm of my hand, squeezing and kneading them.
He let out a guttural groan and placed his hands on my head, holding my ears gently. I took this as a hint, and lowered my head on his cock, pushing his erection further into my mouth until it hit the back of my throat. He let out another long, low moan and I knew he was enjoying the feeling of my mouth. Without needing any instruction I started bobbing my head on his cock, slowly at first as I got used to such a large object in my mouth, but then more quickly. His fingers began to run through my hair lovingly and I grabbed onto his hips, holding him and using his body for leverage to fuck him with my face.
Without any warning his cock jerked between my lips and I felt the first strand of cum hit the roof of my mouth. It was salty and slimy and thick, and before I could figure out what to do with the first shot a second one fired off. Instinctively I swallowed, drawing the rich fluid down my throat. I was prepared for the third wave, resuming my bobbing motion. I was suddenly compelled to do a good job, to milk his balls dry of the multi-month stockpile of semen that he had been building up though I don’t truly know why. The strength of his muscle contractions diminished but I didn’t stop my motion until his cock was completely still.
“Oh Man,” John cried out as the twitching in his cock subsided. “You have no idea how badly I needed that. You saved my life. I owe you one and I promise, nobody will ever know anything about this. I won’t even mention it between us.”
I held his dwindling erection between my lips probably longer than I should have, the last few drops of cum sliding off onto my tongue. I sat up then, unable to even look at the man whose cock I had just been sucking.
He didn’t say another word as pulled up his boxers and threw his t-shirt back on before picking up the remote and turning on the television. He flipped through the channels until he found a rerun of MASH and instantly broke into laughter. I just sat there, unsure what to say or do or think. Even though I had swallowed it all, the taste of John’s cum was still strong in my mouth and even though he had put his underwear back on I could still smell the musk of his manhood under my nose. ‘Dear God’, I thought to myself. ‘I want to do it again’. I didn’t say anything to my roommate though. I just stared straight ahead at the television, not paying any attention to it. Instead, I replayed the scene again and again in my head and savored the taste of another man on my tongue.
He went to bed before I did, unceremoniously yawning and climbing off the couch. As soon as he closed his bedroom door behind him I went into mine to attend to the erection that had been straining against my pants since the moment I swallowed John’s load.
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