During my freshman year, I decided to rent a room in a house adjacent to campus. Sure, it would've been nice to have the whole experience of living in a dorm. Those were expensive though. Given that I already was borrowing money to pay for tuition and housing, I opted for a less expensive option, so I'd graduate with less debt. The house was old and small and there was only one other room that was currently unrented. The landlord, a college professor who purchased the house as an investment, assured me that my roommate would likely be another university student.
A few months went by during which I had the place to myself. This all changed in the fall when Norman moved in. He was the exact opposite of who I expected as a roommate. We had nothing in common. He was in his mid-thirties, tall, and had very bulky muscles. My thin frame was much smaller than his with his big beefy arms, large, sculpted shoulders, and hard chest. The only part of him that wasn't cut was his gut which protruded a bit. He lacked the six pack, but he was a big and well-muscled dude otherwise. The type of guy you'd suspect to be on steroids.
"Um, can I help you?" I asked with a titled head when I opened the door of my rental house and looked upon him for the first time.
"Sure," Norman said with a knowing grin on his face. "You can unload the back of the jeep for me."
"Oh right, the new roommate," I remarked before blinking. "Are you um... the dad?"
Norman let out a booming laugh. "Did you just call me daddy?" he asked, winked at me, sized me up with eyes, and smirked.
"Uhm, no, nevermind..." I said as I looked away and swallowed.
"It's cool little bro," he said, puffed his chest out, and smiled playfully at me. "Call me whatever you want. The doc said my roomie would be a college brat. But damn, you look like you're still in high school." He extended one of his bulging arms towards me.
The back of my neck tingled unpleasantly, and I felt sweaty suddenly. I hesitated before extending my own hand. It felt so much smaller, and smoother compared to his rough leathery palm. As he squeezed, my eyes watered and I bit my lower lip. It felt like my hand was being crushed. I gasped when he finally let go. His hands felt moist for some reason.
"Things sure changed from when I was growing up," Norman rambled. "I watched so much pro wrestling and Schwarzenegger movies back then. It was a golden age, I swear. Nowadays it's nothing but cape shit and feminism. A damn shame."
I helped Norman unload boxes to his new room next to mine. I spent the rest of the day in my room studying. Throughout the evening I kept hearing manly grunting and the sound of heavy weights being dropped on the ground. It made sense. A guy who looked like that must pump a lot of iron. I wondered how he managed to stay motivated. I was a drama geek in high school, a gamer in my off time, didn't participate in any athletics, and always hated gym.
I tried to just keep to myself but over the next few weeks I kept having strange encounters with Norman. I noticed he was constantly giving me odd lookovers. He'd start conversations bragging about himself all the time. For example, he'd bring up his work as a stevedore at the docks near campus and say things like, "By far, I have the biggest loads of any of the men there." He'd also boast about new lifting milestones he reached, and he'd invite me into his room to watch him lift. The first few times I agreed just to be nice. However, when I was in there, watching him lift heavy weights shirtless with his big muscles, listening to him grunt and breathe heavy, his eyes staring at me and a knowing grin on his face, I would get a strange feeling in my ribs and excuse myself.
I returned from class one day and heard Norman yell out from his room, "Yo, little bro, help me out with a quick spot here."
I swallowed hard, felt my arms tense up, hesitated, and finally I sighed and entered his bedroom. Norman laid down with his back against his weight bench, his beefy hands gripping the bar above him. The older man wore only a skimpy pair of teal boxers. A small electric fan pointed towards the bench whirred. It smelled musky in his room. I walked over and stood next to the bench where Norman's head laid.
Nothing unusual happened during the first set. Norman rested briefly before beginning the next group of reps. As he did so, I looked at the nightstand next to his bed. His expensive scotch was there. The one he bragged had cost him $800. Next to that was a large bottle of lubricant as well as two whisky glasses. I felt the hair on the back of neck stand up. I didn't want to bring it up, however. The last thing I wanted was some awkward conversation with Norman.
During the third set, I noticed a huge erection tenting in Norman's shorts. My eyes couldn't help but be drawn to it. When I looked down at Norman, he had a knowing grin on his face. I noticed his gaze shift from looking to me to his raging boner straining against the tight material of his boxers. I looked back at his boxers before resuming my eye contact with Norman. A relaxed smile crossed his face before he briefly nodded his head at me, lifted the barbell once again, and released a satisfied sigh. "Ok, I'm done," he concluded.
I helped him lift the bar up and set it back atop the weight bench. When he stood up from the bench, I noticed the fat mushroom head of his cock was sticking out of the fly of his boxers. It looked big, girthy and hard, even with the shaft concealed.
Norman covered his mouth with his left hand and remained unnaturally still. "Oops, my bad little bro," he apologized. "Wardrobe malfunction. Could you do me a small favor? So, it's not all awkward like it is now. Just get on your knees and tuck it back in my boxers. C'mon, it'll only take a couple seconds. Go ahead and get on your knees."
"Uhm, I-I've got to go," I said quickly before walking past Norman and out of his bedroom door. As I exited, I noticed Norman's shoulders slump and a grimace cross over his face.
The next time I saw Norman's penis was when I was in my introduction to logic class. I had just finished writing down the proofs from the professor's PowerPoint when my phone buzzed. When I looked down at my phone, I saw an up-close photograph of a man's very large penis. I blinked before recognizing the stubby mushroom head. Norman wasn't just jacked; he was hung like a male pornstar. I quickly exited the text. When I turned around, I could see the two girls seated behind in the row above me were staring at me with large grins on their faces. Fuck, were they smiling because they saw me looking at a fat veiny dick pic on my phone?
The phone buzzed again. I looked at the message which indicated it was from Norman. It read,
Sorry little bro! I totally meant to send that to someone else!
This seemed too big of a coincidence. Maybe it happened on accident one time. But this is the second time he'd supposedly mistakenly or unintentionally shown me his big veiny penis.
After class, I received another message from Norman,
Now that you've seen it though. I'm curious. What're your thoughts, little bro? It's a nice picture, yah?
