My straight roommate got curious, so I helped him understand…
Everyone is over 18 and all situations are fully consensual.
Friday night’s movie night, so Mark and I get comfortable on the sofa to watch Netflix and chill, a bowl of popcorn between us. My favourite part’s when our fingers brush together in the bowl and I glance at him flirtatiously, forgetting he’s straight, and he carries on watching the film like nothing happened.
Minutes pass, and I notice how close we’re sitting. He lays his arm on the head rest behind me, flaunting his huge chest, while I breathe in his musky cologne.
Halfway through the film, I’m bored. “This movie sucks, Mark.” When he doesn’t reply, I stare at him. “Mark?”
A pause. His brows are furrowed like he’s about to struggling to utter something.
“Hey, bro, can I ask you a question?” he says, a few beats later.
“Sure.”
“Ok. Here goes nothing.” He clears his throat. “I might be gay.”
I stare at him, eyes wide with shock, mouth opened looks like the letter ‘O’. Mark’s… gay? How could he be gay when he’s always talking about girls and football? I mean, he’s the type of guy that says hugging a dude’s gay. “You are?” I ask.
He nods. “I think so. See, don’t judge me or anything, but when we were in the sauna last week? I kinda got hard for the guy sitting opposite us. You know, the jacked Spanish guy with the slick olive skin and the goatee?”
I remember him; he’s hard to forget. “Are you sure it wasn’t just some random boner?”
“Dude, I think I know when something turns me on, and believe me, I was turned on.” He runs a hand through his hair, eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand. I thought I was only into girls, but damn that guy was hot.”
I grin. “How did it feel?”
“I was smaller than him. It felt vulnerable, submissive, helpless.”
“But it felt good?”
He nods. “Hell yeah. I loved it. Not to say I don’t like girls, but I might be into dudes too. Is that bad? Liking girls and dudes?”
“Of course it’s not,” I say. “You’re just bisexual.”
For a while, he says nothing — just stares at the floor, deep in thought. A moment later, he shakes his head aggressively, like he’s trying to knock the thought out of his head. He jumps up. “I’m not gay. It was probably just a random boner, like you said.”
“Mark…” I take his hand, and he slowly sits back down. “You’re scared of liking guys. That’s fine. But don’t try to convince yourself you’re a hundred percent straight when you know you’re not.”
All the time I’m speaking, he’s staring at my lips, staring at my body. Resisting the urge…
“Um…” he starts, scratching his head. “What are you saying, Sam? Reckon you’ll… help me?”
I scooch closer to him, knocking the bowl of sticky popcorn onto the carpet. His blue eyes travel from my hands to my crotch, then back up to my hands. “Do it with me, Mark. That’s all I ask. Do it with me, and you’ll know if you’re gay or not.”
A grin forms on his blushing face, and he chuckles. “Ha, you’re such a pervert, Sam…”
I squeeze his hands. “Mark, I like you. A lot. This is the only way I can help you accept who you are.”
“Ok, I’ll give it a try.” With that, he takes off his shirt, revealing his hairy armpits and cut-glass V-line. Heart pounding, I watch as he throws it onto the floor, then hooks his thumbs into his waistband. His print’s huge… I’m not sure if I could handle it, but I take my shirt off anyway.
Now we’re both standing on the carpet, staring at each other’s naked bodies. Mark has a brilliant figure: perfect six-pack, wide shoulders, muscular quads and a thick, 8-inch dick that curves slightly to the left.
“Wow. You’re big,” I manage to utter.
He licks his lips. “I’m not sure if I can do this, man. It feels weird, but I want to.”
“It’s OK. I’ll guide you through it.” I stroll over to the sofa and prop myself on it with my back arched toward him, hole gaping for him to use. “Now, come here.” When he walks over, I’m already glistening with sweat, hot with adrenaline. He seizes my hips, using his big hands to keep me still.
“Are you sure you’re OK with me doing this, bro?” he asks. I nod, and he slips it in nice and slow, grabbing my ass like a hungry man being fed. Starting to build rhythm, he goes back and forth in ultra-slow motion, grunting shakily. Now I’m burning alive, and I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying this. Enjoying how his hands feel travelling all over my body. Enjoying how his dick makes me squirm with every deep thrust. Enjoying how he smacks me on the ass like I’m his fuck toy. Enjoying the clinking his necklace makes when he rams it in, and the orgasmic moans when he’s close.
“Fuck, Mark…” I moan, turning my focus to a framed picture of him shirtless on a beach, smiling, with a beach ball in his hand. “You’re dick’s too good.”
“Shh…” he gags me with his index and middle finger, and the salty taste is enough to keep me quiet. Trying hard not to come, I suck his fingers and close my eyes. But then he increases his pace. I grip the arm of the sofa, face down. Blood boiling, heart pumping, dick throbbing. “Shouldn’t have done that,” he grunts.
Helpless, I stare at the beach picture again. Then, four bursts of cum fire out of me, leaving me numb. Shortly afterwards, Mark finishes in me, leaving me a sticky, dripping mess.
“Sorry, bro,” he says. “I came inside you.” My vision’s blurry all of a sudden. “Sam? Are you OK?”
“Yeah…” I mutter, as my eyes slowly close shut. And before I know it, I pass out.