This is my first erotic story. I warn you, it is more on the romantic side than hard core sex. I hope you'll take this story on its own terms and that you all enjoy it. Please feel free to write me and tell me what you think.
==========================================================
Private School Roommate
Part 1
I was really nervous about starting school because I would be leaving my home for the first time to live somewhere else. My parents had arranged for me to go to a private school north of the city where they thought I could get a better education. I was afraid because I wouldn't know anybody else there, and I had always had difficulty getting accepted by my peers.
I think that part of it was that I was smaller than everybody else I knew. I have always been the "little guy" and through middle school got picked on a lot. I guess over time it developed into a bit of a complex for me, and I became rather insecure. Being harassed by your peers tends to make you a little bit shy.
Upon arriving at the school, my mother and I were greeted by a faculty assistant in his mid-twenties. He was very nice and he helped us with my luggage. He led us past the front of the school to the boys' residences on the east side of the school building. The building was old dating back to the 1800s, and ivy carpeted the walls. The residence was a newer building with a red brick exterior. The inside wasn't nearly as attractive though. Thick cinder block walls surrounded us. The walls were covered with shiny white paint and the carpet was a dusty blue.
My mother left me in my room, kissed me good-bye, and rushed back to the car so as not to be late for an appointment she had back in the city. The faculty assistant also took his leave, stranding me alone in my new home.
I started to unpack my clothing. My roommate had already arrived it appeared. On his bed sat a suitcase that was in the middle of being unpacked, and a stack of books sat on his desk. A poster of a rock band's logo hung on the wall, and a stereo had been mounted on the shelves above his bed.
Before leaving me, the faculty assistant had apologised because I was to have a roommate who was older than myself. Because I had applied late and because of the numbers in the school, I was partnered with a student who was a senior, a year older than myself. This had increased my apprehension, as I anticipated a year of torment under an older boy. My apprehension turned to dread when I saw a letterman's jacket hanging on my roommate's side of the bed. A jock. Jocks have always been the worst.
My reverie was interrupted when a tall and athletic boy walked into my room. He had short blonde hair and bright green eyes and when he saw me his mouth opened into a wide grin. "You must be my roommate, John," he said. "I'm Blake. Nice to meet you."
I was actually quite surprised at such a warm welcome. He reached out his hand and I shook it. Something in my stomach caught when I felt his big hand grasp my own smaller one. I didn't understand at that time what I was feeling.
Blake started unpacking his suitcase, tossing his clothing into drawers while I slowly and methodically placed mine in careful piles. I watched him as we worked in silence. His strong frame was clearly visible through his T-shirt, and I could see the muscles of his legs through his sweats. I longed to look like him, thinking that I never would. After unpacking, Blake waved good-bye and then shot quickly out of the room.
The next two weeks I spent alone, not really knowing any of the other boys at the school and afraid to try to get to know them. I wandered from class to class, only focusing on my studies and wary of anybody who tried to talk to me. Then I would return to my room and study or sleep. Blake was often there early before bedtime and I tended to avoid the room. Often stopping in just to grab my stuff to leave. He always tried to start up a conversation, but I avoided him, slipping out to the library or the dining hall. I didn't get to know anybody and I avoided all social events, trying to hide myself as I had learned to do.
Unfortunately, my attempted invisibility had not protected me as I had anticipated. Some of the boys in my grade had picked me out as an easy target. They started to make fun of me and call me a "fag". There didn't seem to be any real reason except that I was available to mock. I also didn't have any friends to protect me at that point either. The harassment increased and it seemed like they were every single place I went.
It all came to a head near the Christmas Holidays. I had just finished a late night of studying at the library in preparation for mid-terms. I trudged behind the school along a short-cut that I had discovered earlier that month. My breath streamed before me as I wandered towards boys' residence. Then I heard the voice: "Hey, it's the fag!" I turned and saw Frank, one of the boys who had been tormenting me that year. He was with two of his cronies and the three of them were obviously drunk.
I tried to walk away from them, but they followed. They taunted me for a while but I kept walking. Finally, Frank grabbed me and said, "Where are you going, faggot? We got everything you want right here!" Terrified out of my mind, I kicked him in the nads and he went down like a pile of bricks. I tried to run, but the snow was too deep. Their legs were much longer than mine, and the other two caught me. They threw me to the ground and started kicking me. By this point I was crying while they laughed over me. One of them picked me up and held me so that Frank could punch me in the stomach. "You asked for this..."
Then something happened that surprised me more than anything else ever had. I was rescued. A hand grabbed Frank's wrist and threw him to the ground. The same hand became a fist and punched the other boy in the face. The last coward let go of me and started to run. Frank and his buddies beat a hasty retreat. "If you ever touch him again, you bastards I'll swear to God I'll kill you!"
Frank and the boys retreated leaving myself and my defender alone in the snow. Everything was silent except for our panting. I was curled up on the ground whimpering and he leaned over and gathered me into his arms. "It's all right. It's all right, buddy. You okay man? You okay?" I looked up and saw Blake's handsome face. He wore an expression of worry. I continued to cry. He held me close in his strong arms and murmured reassurances to me as I wept openly in the cold wet snow. As I cried I realised that he too was shaking.
I don't remember how we got there, but Blake and I arrived at our room. Most of the other students were outside residence or off campus at this time, and would be returning shortly, so Blake quickly closed the door so they would not see the condition I was in. He continued to hold me and comfort me and I hammered my fists against his strong chests and arms, and I cried angrily at myself for being such a baby. That just made him hold me tighter.
When I finally calmed down, he gently stripped the snow- drenched clothes off my body and laid me down in my bed to rest. I had stopped crying, but I was weak and tired from the whole ordeal. I lay on my side, half asleep, clutching the covers to myself.
My eyes were still half open as I lay there. Blake turned off all of the lights except for his desk lamp casting the room in deep shadows. I could dimly hear the other students pounding into the residence and joking in the halls; their noises were muffled by the thick brick walls. I watched Blake wearily pull his shirt off. I had never watched him undress before, always afraid that he would think I was a "fag" or something. This time I watched him strip, lit only by his lamp, the shadows emphasising each one of his muscles. He had a strong hard body, one that protected me that day. I watched the muscles move gently under his smooth hairless skin as he pulled down his pants. His legs were strong and covered by a smattering of hair. He absent- mindedly tugged on his penis before climbing under his covers, concealing his body from me.
I then looked up at his face. He wiped tears from his own eyes just as he had done for me. He closed his eyes I studied him from across the room. His strong jaw was covered in light stubble, and his hair was tousled from the fight. He was at that moment, the most beautiful person I had ever known. It was what lay underneath his skin that made him so beautiful; my strong defender, my protector. I thought of how afraid I was of how Blake would treat me, that he would be yet another tormentor in my life. I was ashamed for having thought that.
Blake reached up with his muscled arm and turned off his lamp, plunging us into pitch darkness but for the light coming from under the crack of our door.
Outside the door, the noises died down. The other students were herded into their rooms by the proctors. A half-hour after that, the noise from the boom boxes died as well when "lights out" came around. Then I was alone with Blake in the silence.
I watched him for more than an hour. I watched him lying on his back and breathing. All I could see was the shape of his chest rising and falling. All I could do was watch him. I remembered how he had felt when he held me. I had felt so safe, more at ease than I had ever felt in my life. I remembered how good it felt to know that somebody cared. He had stood up for me. Me, the invisible man. I wanted nothing more than to be held by him again. The last three months of utter isolation of being invisible except to the bullies, the months of torment and cruelty. The loneliness that I felt came pouring into my mind, and my eyes began to mist.
I got out of my bed and climbed onto his. I pulled his sheets back and climbed under the covers and cuddled up to his chest. I felt Blake move slightly, making a surprised sound as he felt me move up against him. My stomach tightened as I anticipated an assault against my person. It never came. Instead he put his arm around my shoulder like a protective older brother and held me to him. I fell asleep just like that.
I woke again late in the night. The moon had swung around to our side of the residence and the pale blue light was streaming through the window. I glanced outside at the still winter night on the other side. Frost had begun to form on the corners of the window panes.
Inside the room I was warmer than I had ever felt in my life. Blake was still holding me, and I smiled as I rested my head against his chest. Blake's breathing was deep and steady. I wondered whether he was still asleep. With my face against his chest, I could smell him. He didn't really smell like anything, he just smelled like himself. He gave off a lot of heat and he warmed me under the covers, shielding me from the cold that was leaking in through the windows. I felt his muscled body against my own and I couldn't help it. I started to get hard.
I became tense, and now I was fully awake, hyper-aware of our positions. I don't know what came over me, but I gently pushed my hard cock up against Blake's muscled leg. He didn't wake up. I pushed harder. His breathing remained steady. I began to gently hump his leg, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body.
I inhaled him. I smelled his flesh underneath my own as I continued to press my cock against his leg. I did this for some time, enjoying his deep breathing accompanying my pleasure. Then I did something I never thought I would do; I touched his cock. It was flaccid, but still heavy in my hand. I gently stroked it, playing my fingers across it. I was very careful not to over-stimulate him, for fear that he would wake up. Slowly he grew hard, and I felt it grow heavier and soon rigid. It felt so full just holding it, and I continued to play. Soon he was completely hard and I listened as his breath became less regular, punctuated with sighs. Every so often he let out an unconscious moan.
I played with him for almost half an hour, gently running my fingers up and down his hard shaft, listening to him moan in his sleep. I was so aroused, knowing that I was the reason he was moaning. I kept humping his leg, relishing the sensation of my rock hard cock moving against his strong muscled leg.
Suddenly he breathed in deeply and he woke up. "Wha... John, what're you...?"
I quickly moved away from him, and in a panic left the bed. His hand reached out and grabbed me by the wrist, just as he had grabbed Frank earlier that night. His grip was like a vise, even in his groggy state. We stood in this awkward tableau for a moment, silence filling the room. My heart was racing, I was ready to die. I had finally found a friend and I had screwed it up. I had completely ruined any chance of getting close to him. I wanted to die, then and there.
The silence was almost palpable. My wrist hurt as I tried to pull away, but Blake refused to let go. I refused to look at him, I didn't want to see the hate in his eyes.
"We...you don't have to go, John," he whispered to me through the darkness. It took a moment for me to understand what he had just said. Slowly it filtered through and I began to relax. As I relaxed and stopped pulling away, Blake's grip loosened as well. I climbed back into the bed and he pulled me back into our original position. I was so nervous, my heart felt like it was going to explode. I could hear it beating inside my head.
We lay in silence for a moment, side-by-side in his little bed. There wasn't enough room for both myself and his large frame, no matter how small I was. We were still touching each other. "When...," Blake began. "When I saw those guys hitting you...I was so scared. I was so scared, and I was so angry..." He was shaking. I pressed against him again, resting my head on his chest. "I... God, if they touch you again I swear..." He turned his head to me, and I could see tears misting in his eyes. "I will never let anybody hurt you." He then hugged me tightly to his chest and I hugged him back.
It all seemed so unusual the way he was talking, the way we were behaving, and yet it was so absolutely perfect. Then I felt it. I felt him growing hard again. He tried to push me away, but I held him tight. We struggled briefly. Finally he stopped and I relaxed and he pulled away to look at me. His face was lit by the pale blue light of the moon, brighter because of the reflection off the snow. I looked at his strong masculine face, and I saw the tiny shadows his stubble made across his skin. We gazed at each other, and the moment hung in the air between us. That was when he leaned over and kissed me.
I was caught completely off-guard. I had never been kissed before in my life, and here a man who I had quietly admired and worshipped was pressing his lips against my own. His stubble gently rubbed against my hairless face. He pushed his tongue gently into my mouth, and I caressed it with my own. We clung to each other kissing passionately as if we would die if we couldn't have each other. I pressed against him, and he pushed his cock against my body. My own penis was pushing out against my underpants and rubbing against him.
He pushed me onto my back and began to devour me. His mouth kissing and licking me all over, every so often returning to my mouth to shower me with kisses. He slowed down when he reached my underpants. He began to gently rub my cock through the fabric as he humped the mattress beside me. Slowly, he removed my shorts. "Have you ever done this before?" he whispered.
"No," I replied. I paused as he held my penis. "Have you?"
He paused again. "No," he replied quietly. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No."
With that, he took my cock in his mouth. I moaned in ecstasy as he worked my rock hard member in and out of his mouth. He went down deep on it, and gagged a little, demonstrating his inexperience. I stroked his hair as he bobbed up and down on my manhood. Because he was my first, I had no idea that he was inexperienced as well. All I knew was how good I felt under his attention. I reached down and kneaded his shoulders as he blew me. His muscles were taught and huge under my small hands. I lost all sensation in my body because all I could feel was him on my cock. He worked the slippery head up and down, taking me deep and spending time caressing the head as well. He wrapped his lips tightly around the rod when he came down, bobbing up and down. I started to fuck his face as the sensations grew more intense. Soon I was writhing in ecstasy, trying not to moan too loudly for fear of waking our neighbours. And I came. I shot, and I shot into his mouth, and Blake took it all. I fucked his face furiously as I unloaded my cum down his throat. Blake held down my thrashing legs as I came, my body convulsing with each contraction. The cum dribbled down the sides of my cock as Blake struggled to swallow it all.
The last shot left me exhausted, my body spent. Blake licked the cum off my cock and sensitive from the orgasm, I flinched each time. We quietly giggled together at that. Blake then sat up and leaned against the wall next to his bed, and pulled me up into his arms as if I was nothing more than a doll. He put me on his lap, arranging my legs to straddle his. We kissed and I could taste my cum in his mouth. He held me with his strong arms and I thought that if I died in that moment, it would be the happiest way to go. He stroked my back and my hair and I ran my hands up and down his hard chest.
We sat together in the darkness, holding each other like that listening to the silence throughout the building. All I could hear was our breathing. Then, I felt him whisper in my ear: "Can I fuck you?"
To Be Continued...