My first attempt at gay erotica and completely fictional. Hope you enjoy.
I was only halfway through my first semester at college and already couldn't stand anymore of my obnoxious, slovenly constantly partying suitemates. Believe it or not, I came to college to actually get an education and I was tired of having to do all my studying at the library. I was bitching about it to my friend Stacy on the way to class one morning when she mentioned her friend Randy was looking for a roommate.
"He's a nice enough guy. You'd probably get along, but I don't know if you'd be comfortable sharing an apartment," she said sort of absent-mindedly, almost to herself as she wrote out his phone number.
"How come?"
She had to get to her class in the next building and all I could get out of her is that he has all the girls saying, "What a waste." Whatever it was, it couldn't be that big of a thing compared to the jerks I was stuck with at the moment so as soon as I was out of class, I took out my cell phone and called him up before the opportunity was lost. It was a brief conversation: introduction, address, directions, yadda yadda yadda. Twenty minutes later I was standing outside of a nice little house near the campus that he'd rented. Nothing fancy, but comfortable.
A quick rap on the door and there was Randy, a tall, friendly, good looking guy, blonde hair, nice smile, good build and a firm handshake. It was easy to see why the girls liked him, but "what a waste"? I still wasn't getting it. We chatted amiably as he showed me around the little house, two bedrooms, one bath, small kitchen, but a nice spacious living room. He seemed perfectly fine to me, a lot neater and quieter than my current roomies and, as we both seemed to be getting along, we agreed I could move in immediately. He even helped. What the fuck was she talking about when she said I might not want to room with Randy?
I was in my new bedroom, unpacking my meager belongings when Randy popped his head in my door, "I'm gonna make a run to the store. What kind of beer you drink?"
"I'm not picky. Whatever you usually drink is fine."
Unpacking was short work, but I had gotten kinda sweaty toting boxes so I decided on a quick shower while Randy was at the store. I finished up and was just reaching for my towel when I heard Randy return from the store, "Yo, Dude! Let's get our drink on!"
"I'm in the bathroom," I called out, "I just got outta the shower." I only just finished toweling off and was wrapping the towel around my waist when the bathroom door burst open. In strolls Randy with a beer in each hand.
"Dude, I'm naked here!"
"You're not naked. You have a towel around you. Besides, you didn't even thank me for bringing you a beer."
"Can I get dressed first?"
"Drink now. Dress later. You don't want it to get warm and anyway, it's just us guys, kinda like a locker room."
I guess he had a point. The guys in my gym classes were never very shy in the dressing room. So, I took my beer and took a long drink, so fucking good after my hot shower and we drifted out to the living room. Randy sat in the recliner at the end of the sofa. I sat near him at the end of the sofa, kind of on the edge not leaning back, thinking I'd quickly finish my beer and then get dressed before getting another. I was just finishing it off with a last long gulp when I looked up to see Randy standing there with two more beers, holding one out to me, "You ready?"
Locker room or not, I was really wanting to get dressed, but Randy just smiled at my hesitation. "Drink up buddy," he said taking my empty and replacing it with a fresh one. Oh, what the hell. I can get dressed in a minute. We chatted amiably for a bit and I became more relaxed. I'm a very cheap drunk and the second beer went even faster than the first. I guess I was already a little tipsy, because when I gulped down the last of my second beer, I thought to myself I should go get dressed now, but the first words out of my mouth were, "Can you get me another beer?"
"Am I here to serve you?" came his reply.
"Well, no, but I'm already a little tipsy and I'm just in a towel . . ." I pleaded.
"Alright, but the next round is on you."
Almost as soon as he handed it to me, my third beer was history and Randy was matching me easily. "I guess it's my turn this time" and I hopped up off the couch not really caring anymore that I was only in a towel.
"I'm gonna get comfortable," Randy said behind me. When I got back, he was in just a t-shirt & boxers, kinda short boxers too. I handed him his beer and the drinking continued. He had some good stories about Stacy and when it was time for another beer, I tried the puppy dog eyes to try to get him to go for another round, but he refused saying I still owed him one. On my way back from the fridge, I thought I could feel my towel coming loose, but I just couldn't care about it and when I plopped back down on the sofa, I didn't even notice that it came loose completely.
"You're getting the next round," I said when I handed off his beer.
"Tell you what, we'll make this one a chugging contest, loser gets to be beer bitch for the night."
It sounded like a fun idea to me and as fast as I had put away the last couple of beers, I was sure I was gonna get to take it easy for the rest of the night. I sat up on the edge of the couch, not even noticing that my towel had already fallen open, exposing the length of my thigh, "Okay, Let's go. One . . . two . . . three, GO!" I think we started out even, but my drinking skills leave a lot to be desired. About halfway through, I had to take a breath, but Randy was still going strong. I was putting the beer back to my lips, when I heard the sound of an empty beer can getting crushed.
Grinning in victory, Randy leaned back in his seat, "Get me a beer, bitch!"
"Fine, whatever," I pouted picking up his discarded beer. I hopped up off the couch and four beers hit me like a ton of bricks. I was a lot drunker than I had realized. I stood there swaying for a second before I noticed Randy snickering and staring. In my drunken haze, I hadn't noticed that my towel had stayed behind on the couch and I was standing in the middle of the room, completely naked with and empty beer can in each hand.
"Oh, fuck! Now what do I do?" I asked, joining Randy in laughing at my own embarrassment.
"You're okay. I like my bitches naked. Now, don't keep me waiting!" He slapped my bare ass hard and it stung all the way to the kitchen and back. Looking down as I handed Randy a fresh beer, I thought I could see the head of his cock peaking out the bottom of his boxers, but I didn't want to stare. I crossed over to my seat and picked up my towel, spread it out on the couch and laid down, propped up on the end of the couch. Looking back I'm still shocked that the thought of getting dressed or at least putting my towel back on never even entered my mind. I realized I was enjoying being naked in front of Randy. I was enjoying being seen naked; what was happening to me?
Stretched out on the sofa like Cleopatra on a chaise, I took a swig of my beer and from this angle I could see it. The head of Randy's cock was exposed beneath the hem of his boxers. I quickly looked back at the TV so he didn't catch me looking. I tried to focus on the movie, but I could see out of the corner of my eye that Randy kept shifting in his seat, readjusting every couple of minutes. I decided I could sneak a good long look by finishing off the last half of my fifth beer. Doing my best to hide behind my beer can, I let my gaze wander to his cock. I couldn't tell if his cock had grown longer or his boxers had ridden up, but there was now at least three inches of thick cock meat hanging out the leg of his shorts. I was completely mesmerized. My pretense of not noticing completely forgotten, I was openly staring at his cock and Randy, apparently noticing that I'd gone quiet, caught me.
"What the fuck, dude?"
I was to drunk to care about getting caught. I didn't even take my eyes off his cock. I just smiled asked if he was aware that his cock was hanging out.
