Reassuring My Straight Roommate - Part 2
This story picks up shortly after the conclusion of the first. Sorry for the delay in continuing this story. I am hoping to make writing a more regular part of my routine, and would definitely appreciate feedback at mbgboy89@gmail.com.
This story is a work of fiction based loosely on my own experience. Read at your own leisure, and if this type of writing offends you, you are in the wrong place.
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Part 2
The next morning, I woke up still in that post-ejaculate euphoric daze. I ran through the events of the night before in my mind, but it almost didn't seem to reconcile. It was like I had fantasized about the events of the previous night so many times, it was weird to think that something had happened between me and Zach. I found myself starting to think about the future, and what things would be like. Was Zach feeling good about last night? Did he sober up and feel violated or ashamed? Is this something we would do on a regular basis, or never again? As I pondered the uncertain future between Zach and I, my cock started to harden, betraying my hope that this would not be a one night stand followed by awkward silence and months of avoiding one another.
I got out of bed, got cleaned up, and went downstairs to make some breakfast. It was about 8am on a Saturday morning, so I figured everyone else would still be asleep. Walking into the kitchen and seeing Zach sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee, I realized I was wrong. I froze for only a moment, unsure of what the energy would be between us or how to approach the situation. I had learned long ago though that, when confronted with an unknown situation, it's usually better to jump in and trust yourself to handle whatever comes up rather than to try and predict every possible outcome.
As I walked into the kitchen, Zach turned to me, and smiled. I felt a wave up excitement, nervousness, and happiness, and smiled back.
"Morning!" I said, grabbing a coffee mug from the cupboard and pouring myself a cup from the pot Zach had made. "Sleep well?"
"Good morning," Zach replied. "I slept like a rock! You?"
I chuckled. "Same here, passed out in about thirty seconds and slept great."
"That's good," said Zach. "Any plans for the day?"
I sat down with my coffee across from Zach, and took a sip. "Nothing comes to mind. I've got some work to do at some point but I'm not feeling particularly motivated to jump into that. How about you?"
"Pretty much the same. My buddy is gonna stop in this afternoon and drop off some weed, so I was thinking of making some cookies or brownies or something. Have you ever made edibles?"
I laughed at the memory of the first time I had tried to make weed brownies, and recounted the story of making every single rookie mistake that can be made - I had put about a hundred bucks' worth of weed in one batch, had cut the brownies way too big, became impatient and ate three of them before they started to kick in, and then got dragged to a new club downtown where I spent the next four hours in an intense stare down with a neon light across the dance floor. Zach and I laughed at the difficult lessons I had learned. I was relieved that we were able to talk and joke the way we always had, and that nothing seemed to have changed in how we interacted with each other.
"Okay, so you already took care of the What Not To Do, we can learn from that," Zach chuckled. "I've smoked weed a bunch but I've never tried edibles. I figured tonight would be a chill night to try them out, if you're down. I think it's just gonna be us home, so we could put on a movie or play video games or something if you're down?" I may have been imagining it, but it felt like Zach was doing his best to act casually, when he was really trying to ask about something that he cared about without betraying that he was invested in my answer. It also seemed like an invitation to spend another night together with weed and drinks, which I was absolutely ready for.
"Oh, I didn't realize that," I said, and Zach filled me in on what our other roommates would be up to for the evening, one heading home, and the other out with her friends. "Yeah, that sounds perfect to me, let's do it!" At this, Zach visibly perked up, and I could tell that he had been hoping we'd be able to spend the night hanging out. What he was hoping for specifically, I couldn't yet be sure, but I was hoping to find out.
We spent the rest of the morning doing our own thing. I decided to clean my room, get some work done, and then run to the grocery store to pick up some supplies, including baking stuff, some pop, some mix for the whiskey I still had in my room, and some other snacks. I also checked my room to make sure that I had lube, which was well-stocked. I wanted to be prepared for anything, so I also decided to take a shower. Zach had mentioned that he was interested in trying more butt stuff, although I wasn't sure if this would entail his ass or mine. I grabbed my douche from a case I keep under the sink, and opened it up. However, as I was pulling it out of the case, I had a thought - Zach was clearly interested in trying anal play, and he had confided that he didn't have much experience because the girls he had been with were either uninterested or he was too nervous to ask. In that moment, I had a decision to make. I could either take a few minutes and clean my ass out now, which would mean it would be clear for business anytime. However, another part of me realized that this could be a learning experience for Zach, and I could walk him through the reality of using a douche for the first time. I just wasn't sure if he would be ready for this.
As I was weighing my options, an odd feeling came up. I recognized it from the night before, when I had had my tongue shoved as far up Zach's hairy butthole as I could reach. In that moment, I was as horny and greedy as I had ever been in my life, and I had wanted something more. Something more intense. Something filthier. The feeling had caught me a bit off guard the night before. Throughout my life, I had always been attracted to masculine men. I liked hairy, beefy guys. I liked the way their sweat smelled, the way their body hair felt against my own, the way their balls would get a bit funky and sweaty. Most of all, I loved the musk that would build up in a guy's hair butt crack. I dreamed of licking the sweat out from the hairy trench of a guy who had just been to the gym. My interests had always been dirty, but, up until this point, had never really ventured into the world of piss play or scat. But last night, it seemed like something had changed. As I had shoved my face into Zach's asshole, there had been a very mild taste of the shit that he had not cleared away. There had been a part of me that had hoped that I might find more, but that hadn't been the case. I looked at myself in the mirror, and contemplated what I was looking for.
I think I've always been attracted to men's asses because there was something almost sacred about this most intimate place. From my interactions with gay and straight men, it seemed like guys were often much more willing to pull their cock out or send a dick pic than they were to take an ass pic. This was especially true with straight men. And I think that reservation about their asses is what appealed to me most. For straight guys, their assholes kind of represented the most intimate part of themselves, the part that had never been socially acceptable to share with others. The part of themselves that they were not encouraged to explore. As a gay guy, I was usually quite adamant about anal hygiene, in that I never wanted my ass to be dirty, just in case. But there was something different about a straight guy, like there was an expectation that they didn't necessarily wipe as well or care as much about their asshole, because playing with their ass wasn't on the table anyway, so a little unwiped shit wouldn't hurt anyone.
And this is where my attention got snagged. The night before, I had tasted the most intimate part of Zach, and I wanted more. Looking at myself in the mirror, I had a thought, and decided that now was as good a time as any to try something new. I walked out of my bathroom, and locked my bedroom door, before heading back into my bathroom and locking that door, before stripping naked. I checked myself out in the mirror, before lifting my right leg up onto the counter. I started feeling my ass, moving from rubbing my butt cheeks to tickling my asshole with my finger. I then brought my finger to my nose, and smelled. It had come back clean, as expected, considering I had showered the night before. I put my finger into my mouth, but there was still just the taste of my clean ass. I shoved my finger deeper into my mouth, lubing it up with spit, before lowering my hand back to my asshole. I took a second to take a breath, and then looked at myself in the mirror again. I had fingered myself any number of times in the past, but never with the intention of tasting my own shit on my finger. I locked eyes with myself in the mirror for a moment, almost weighing my resolve to act on the filthy thoughts running through my head. Then, the taste of Zach's asshole invaded my mind again, and the decision was made.
I swirled my middle finger around my hole for a moment, before pushing the tip into my ass. I could get it in about knuckle-deep before I had to take it out and lick it to add more spit. As I brought it to my mouth, I could taste something a bit stronger. There was no shit on my finger, but I could taste the inside of my ass. And the taste drove me wild. I licked my hand again, this time putting as much spit on it as possible, before shoving it back up my ass to my third knuckle, and wriggling my finger around back and forth and in a circle. I could feel the fleshy walls of my rectum, and I loved the feeling. I tilted my ass up a little bit, and began to push out as if I were taking a shit. I could feel an inner ring open up inside my ass, and I shoved my finger in further and further. After a few minutes of pushing, wriggling, and bearing down, I felt my finger come into contact with something solid, something that was gritty and warm, but not fleshy. I paused, and slowly began to stroke the mass with my finger. It was firm, but pliant enough that it gave way beneath my probing finger. I swirled my finger around it for a few more minutes, before slowly pulling my finger out of my ass, and bringing it around to my face. As I brought it up to my face, I could see that I had collected some semi-soft shit on the end of my finger, with some streaks lower down. I brought my finger to my nose, and took a big inhale.
To my surprise, I was not disgusted by the smell. There was something weirdly comfortable and familiar to it. It was kind of like when you fart, and the smell is somehow satisfying, even if you know that it objectively is a gross smell. After all, this was my shit. In that moment I realized that I was venturing into a new realm of freedom. I didn't need to apply the same rules that I applied with other people, because there was nobody else to offend, nobody to be disgusted by what I was doing. It was just me, my ass, and whatever came out of it. If I enjoyed it, that would be great. And if not, then that would be it. But I was already enjoying it, and ready for more.
After a moment, I steeled my resolve, and, rather than taking a tentative lick, I shoved my finger straight into my mouth and began rubbing the length of my finger against the length of my tongue. The taste was not what I had expected. I could tell that I was tasting my shit, but it didn't taste exactly the way it smelled. It had a somewhat deeper, richer taste, one that I didn't find gross. To be honest, it reminded me a bit of when you scratch your sweaty balls and get your hand covered in ball sweat, only to bring it to your nose and inhale deeply. There was just something satisfying and freeing about it. This was me. My smell. My taste. And I loved it.
I sucked on my finger for about a minute longer, before shoving it back up my ass. This time, I didn't have to fish around quite as much, because my early digging had loosened my shit up. This time, I could feel the dense log inside my ass immediately. Rather than toy around with it, I shoved my finger straight inside, and started to wiggle my finger around again, trying to coat my finger with as much of my shit as I could. When I felt I had a good amount, I removed my finger from my ass, this time seeing that there was more shit on my finger. A lot more. Enough to give me pause. To me, it felt like I was on the verge of something. I could either stop there, wash my hands, have a shower, and that could be the end of it. Or, I could keep going, commit to the debauchery I was engaging in, and eat my shit. In the back of my mind, the word "commit" seemed to echo, and in that moment, I made up my mind. I took a deep breath in, and brought my finger into my mouth. I didn't immediately start to suck, as I wanted to take my time with this one, not just to enjoy it, but I was also aware that, if I went too fast, I could easily make myself sick.
As I began to get used to the intensity of the taste, I began to suck harder, massaging my finger with my tongue, in and around my knuckles and my fingernails, getting as much of my filth in my mouth as possible. A few minutes later, I shoved two fingers up my ass, this time wriggling and stopping, hoping for a larger reward. It didn't take long for my to feel a larger glob of shit lodged between my fingers, and brought them to my mouth. This time, instead of just shoving my fingers in my mouth, I used my tongue to scrape off the large nugget of shit, and brought this into my mouth. I swirled it around with my tongue, just feeling the different tastes within it, and the way it tasted in different parts of my mouth. I pressed down on it with my tongue, before moving it to the side and chewing on my shit with my teeth. This really brought out the true essence of the flavours, as my shit broke down in my mouth, mixing with my saliva, the tastes coming alive inside my mouth. In this moment, I knew that something had come alive inside of me, and that filth would be a part of my life moving forward.
I spent the next few minutes with my fingers either in my ass or in my mouth, before I reached what felt like a natural tipping point. It felt as though I had satisfied some dark urge within myself, but I hadn't gone so far as to make myself sick. I felt a weird sense of pride in what I had accomplished, and then reflected on this pride. I smiled at myself in the mirror, and I could see my shit caked between some of my teeth. Seeing myself this way, with the lingering tastes and smells still intensely invading my mouth and nose, I needed to cum immediately. I took my left hand, which I usually use to jerk off, and brought that to my ass, covering my fingers in my shit, which I then used as lube to stroke my cock. As I was stroking, I could feel my orgasm building, and decided that I needed a bit more shit for this, so I shoved three fingers up my ass and wiggled them around violently inside of my ass, before shoving all three fingers, covered in brown slime, into my mouth. I then shoved my fingers back up my ass, this time aiming for my prostate, as I wildly jacked my cock. It took about three second of this for me to blow my load straight across the sink and onto the bathroom mirror, four very full volleys hitting the mirror before my load slowed down, cum still slowly leaking out of my piss slit. I came so hard, with my hand freely in my open ass, that I ended up shitting into my hand a little. I could still feel my orgasm burning inside me, as if I had given my body something it had never known it wanted, and it didn't know how to handle the residual pleasure. I took a few deep breaths, and then slowly, lazily, continued wriggling my three fingers back in my ass, just playing around for a minute, before bringing my shit-filled hand back to my mouth and licking it clean.
I looked at myself in the mirror again, and there was an interesting mix of emotions. There were the emotions that I thought I should feel, such as disgust, shame, worry that I had done something so extreme. But those didn't really represent how I felt. What I truly felt was an overwhelming sense of love and closeness with myself. Almost like, I had just gotten closer with myself than I had ever considered becoming, and I felt good about it. Satisfied. Spent. In love with this new part of myself that I could explore. In love with this new exploration. It reminded my of being a child and playing with my ass, knowing even back then that this is something I would always enjoy, but something I had to be mindful about sharing with others.
I took the next few minutes to clean myself up in the sink, before wiping down the sink and the mirror. Then, I got in the shower, and wiped clean any remaining evidence of the filth I had just engaged in. I opened my mouth and allowed the shower water to flow in, before swishing it around in my mouth and spitting it down the drain, still brown from the remaining shit in my mouth. After a couple rounds of this, I felt I had gotten the worst of it, and got out of the shower, where I brushed my teeth, flossed a few times, and rinsed with mouthwash. Although I was already desperate to explore this new filth I had found, I didn't necessarily want to go around advertising it, as this was a pretty extreme fetish that I was still finding myself in.
Once I felt that there was no condemning evidence remaining on my face, mouth, body, or bathroom, I got dressed, and went downstairs, where I found Zach in the kitchen organizing the baking ingredients and the weed he had bought. As I walked into the kitchen, he smiled at me, and let me know that he had picked up an ounce of weed for us to use. We talked about it, and decided that we would put half an ounce in the batch. That way, if it wasn't strong enough, we could have another or smoke the remaining weed. We again took a moment to laugh at my first failed attempt, and decided that we would set a timer for two hours between the time we had our first brownie and the time was had anything else.
As we were working in the kitchen to make the butter, mix the batter, and measure it out into the pan, there were a couple times where I noticed that Zach was standing very close to me, allowing his body to press up against mine as we worked. I wanted to encourage this, so I would put my hands on his hips if I needed to switch spots with him, and would leave them there for longer than was strictly required. Zach noticed my lingering touches, and reciprocated by putting his hand on my lower back while I poured out the mixture and levelled it in the pan. It might not have seemed like much, considering I had given him his first rimjob the night before, but this intimacy was something different. We weren't behind closed doors, and this wasn't strictly associated with the lowered inhibitions of horniness and alcohol. This was intimacy for the sake of intimacy, as though we were both willfully pushing our relationship to some next level. I didn't know how far this would go, but I desperately wanted to find out.
At one point, after I had put the tray of brownies In the oven, I reached over and dabbed a bit of the brownie batter from the mixing bowl into his cheek. We both laughed, and I upped the stakes by leaning in and licking the batter off his cheek. He stayed still, holding my eye contact while I did so, a smile on his face. As I pulled away, he shocked me by catching the back of my neck with his hand, and pulling my face into his. He put his lips directly onto mine, and before I knew what was happening, I felt his tongue penetrate my mouth, both eager and tentative, as Zach began kissing me, almost like he wanted to steal the brownie batter back from inside my mouth. My shock wore off quickly, and I began to kiss him in return, with gusto. I touched the side of his face with my hand, cupping his cheek, while my other arm wrapped around his back and pulled his body into might. He began to moan, and kissed me back harder, while grinding his crotch into mine and reaching down to grab my ass. I could feel that both of our cocks were already rock hard, and I wanted more than anything to keep going.
Against every instinct in my body, I pulled my mouth away from Zach's, and held his face in both of my hands. I looked him in the eye, his eyes moving between by eyes and my mouth, clearly signalling that he wanted to continue. I smiled, and leaned in once more to plant a slow, tender kiss on Zach's mouth, letting my lips linger against his for a moment as I took in a deep breath and then exhaled. I brought my face away, and again looked Zach in the eyes.
"Ok, according to the recipe, this should take about 18 minutes to cook. Let's set a timer, and chill for a bit."
Zach didn't seem put out by my actions at all, but instead smiled, grabbed my hand, and walked me over to the couch. He pulled out his phone, and set a timer for the 18 minutes, before tossing his phone on the other couch and looking up at me. I looked down at him and smiled, before sitting down beside him.
"Hey man," I said. " I enjoyed what we did last night so much, I had a ton of fun with you, and I want to have more fun. I also don't really want to have a conversation about it, because I don't want you to think that I'm making assumptions about what this is or anything like that. But I think we should talk about it, to make sure that you're enjoying it as much as I am. Because I want to kiss you again. A lot. And to take off your clothes, and to taste every part of your body. And I want you to try things that you want to try, and for you to feel comfortable with talking about those things and doing them. So, at the risk of this being a boner-killer, how are you feeling about what we did last night?" I looked over at Zach, worried that my word-vomit might have turned him off or gone too far.
Zach chuckled at me for a moment, before leaning in, grabbing the back of my head, and kissing me again. I kissed him back, and we stayed this way for a few minutes, exploring the depths to each others' mouths. After a bit, Zach pulled away, and leaned back against the couch.
"If that wasn't enough of an answer, then let me just say that I came harder last night than I've ever cum before. I loved when you licked my ass, and I want more of it. I want your tongue up my ass again. I want to try kissing and licking your ass. I want you to suck my cock, and I want to cum in your mouth. I want to try sucking your cock. I definitely want to stick my cock up your ass. I want you to finger me and lick my ass and then finger me again, and hopefully I can work up to taking your dick up my ass. I want to fuck, suck, lick, finger, and anything else that comes up."
I must have looked a bit taken aback, because Zach looked at the expression on my face, and began to laugh.
"I told you last night, I've been wanting to try butt stuff for a long time. I guess I didn't really go into detail last night, but I want to feel more of what I felt last night. I want to try things out and see what I enjoy. And I want to taste your ass the way you tasted mine. To be honest, this all feels overwhelming, but in a good way. Like I'm a kid in an arcade and I want to play every game at once, and I don't know which to try first because I think I'll like them all. I think i've always been on the kinkier side, but never felt safe enough to explore it. And now, it's like the doors are open, and I don't want to miss out on anything I might enjoy. And you make me feel like it's okay to want those things, and okay to do those things. There might be some lines I don't want to cross, and maybe there will be things I want to do that you might not, and I'm okay with that. But right now I feel like I'm leaning out the side of a plane, I've got my parachute on my back, and I just want to throw myself into you and try everything. I hope that's not too intense too fast."
As Zach voiced the last part of what he said, his eyes turned down a little bit, almost as though he was ashamed of being so open and vulnerable, or worried that I would judge him or something. As much as I wanted him to be able to talk openly about what he wanted to try, I didn't want him to feel ashamed, so I did my best to reassure him that everything was alright.
I put my hand on top of his hand, waited for him to look back into my eyes, and smiled warmly.
"We are gonna have so much fucking fun together," I told him with a chuckle, "and I can't wait to try anything you want to try. And I will definitely be eating your ass again, because I'm hooked on it."
Zach smiled again, before leaning in and kissing me deeply, his tongue shooting right to the back of my throat. We made out passionately for a while, feeling each other's bodies, until the timer went off, indicating that our brownies would be ready. We kissed for a moment longer, before getting up and heading to the kitchen, Zach slapping my ass as he walked behind me. I put on my oven mitts, and pulled the tray out of the oven. Zach had grabbed a toothpick, and inserted it into the centre of the tray. When he puled it out, it was clean and dry, indicating that the batch was sufficiently cooked, and just needed to cool down. I switched off the oven, and turned around to find Zach right behind me. He put his arms around my waist, and pulled my into a deep bear hug, his left arm arced downward and covering my lower back, his right arm curling upward and holding my shoulders tightly, his beefy body pressed against mine from chest to thighs. We could both tell that we were still hard, and smiled at one another, before leaning in for another deep kiss. The brownies would be ready soon, but the fun was just getting started.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this instalment. I am going to be taking a more active role in writing this story, and would welcome feedback at mbgboy89@gmail.com, along with any stories or pictures you'd like to share.