The Roommate

My name is Stephen Tattaglia. At 28 years of age I have a thriving graphics design business. There's always a pile of printouts on my desk and usually a coffee cup next to my lap top computer. There's always at least a partially complete work in its memory.

I make an effort to get some form of exercise, usually a 4 mile run before settling into the desk chair. The last thing I want to do is put on too much weight.

Life sometimes gives us pleasant surprises. Little did I know that my ad for a roommate would change my life forever, and in a good way.

On a Tuesday morning shortly before noon I met Keith Connor, the dude who was to become my roomie. I found myself captivated. Full lips, high cheekbones, dark brown eyes, a Roman nose and curly dark-brunette hair all combined to make him strikingly handsome. He's Smokin' HOT.

Anyway I brought him to the dining table. There we fell into easy conversation while sipping coffee made in my Kuerig. He turned out to be 25 years old, a history teacher in his first year. In his spare time he enjoys drawing, a hobby and talent he developed in his childhood.

"I can move in this weekend. The lease on my current apartment will expire soon."

"Great, I'm looking foreward to having you."

"I've got errands to take care of," he said ending the visit.

"And I need to get back to work," I replied.

"What kind of work do you do?"

"I'm a graphics designer," I replied.

"Sounds like an interesting job."

"I love what I do."

He nodded then said, "see you Saturday."

Over the next few days we chatted briefly, usually by texting one another, sometimes by video chat.

Friday night came around. I was just about finished with a project at 7 30 when my phone buzzed with a text.

"Hi Stephen. Do you want to go for coffee tomorrow morning before the move."

I texted back immediately. " Love that."

Saturday morning dawned sunny but a bit chilly. From a table in the corner I waved to my new roommate. He settled into the seat opposite me. Once again we fell into easy conversation, this time about the move.

Later that morning the movers carried a few pieces_a bed, a dresser, a chair, a desk_into the elevator to the third floor.

Keith and I watched those beefy handsome guys at work.

With the furniture in place Keith carried cardboard boxes from his gray Chevy Silverado.

We got into a routine. He would rise early and be on his way to school, if not already there, by the time my day started. He would come home mid afternoon to prepare a lesson or grade papers. I would be at my lap top putting together a design. My day was far from over.

A month passed uneventfully. Our friendship was growing. I was happy and terrified at the same time to have this school teacher living with me. How can I tell him that I'm crushing on him? I should have specified in the ad gay roommate wanted.

I liked to imagine him lying on top of me any time of day and taking a shower with him in the morning.

A Saturday at mid morning saw him busy I the kitchen. The oven was baking someting at 350 degrees.

"What's on the menu?" I said.

"Cornish game hen," he replied, looking up from the carrots he was peeling.

He added, "And sauteed broccoli."

"Where did you learn to cook?"

"Watching my mom," he replied. "She used to say that if you're going to be a bachelor you should know how to fix a meal."

"Sounds like good advice," I said.

I added that "I never bothered to learn to cook."

"An Italian who can't cook," he quipped.

"I manage," I replied.

"My mother knew I'd grow up to be a bachelor. I never had any intererest in dating girls."

Are you gay?

No guts no glory. "I came out to my parents when I was 17, just about a month before turning 18. My mom is ok with it. Dad was not ok with it. They're divorced since I was 10. Anyway I enlisted in the navy after highschool. DADT was repealed but it felt safter in the closet."

"I take it you didn't date girls either."

"No I didn't," I replied.

After dinner we settled close to each other in our sofa. My eyes held hs eyes. The look gave way to lip lock. I draped my arms over his shoulders. He put his arms around my shoulders. We broke away breathless after several seconds then leaned into another kiss, this one deep.

"I'm getting aroused."

"So I noticed," he replied, his voice barely audible.

My pants barely hid my fully erect 6-inch penis.

Either masturbate or get laid immediately.

MY eyes shifted in the direction of the bedroom. As if sensing my desire he quipped, "masturbate for me."

Reluctant to get naked I looked him in the eye. Will be repeat that?

I had never masturbated in front of anyone before. Such lewd behavior is inappropriate. That's not to say I abstain from masturbation.

"I'll never tell. It'll be our dirty little secret."

As his words hung in the air I pulled my shirt off then my teeshirt. Barely a half minute later my shoes, pants and briefs landed on the floor in front on the sofa

My strokes were slow at first and my grip loose. Keith's mouth widened into a smile encouraging me to do the dirty deed.

My grip tightened. Rubbing faster would cause me to ejaculate which is what we both wanted.

"That is hot." He quipped softly.

The seconds ticked away becoming minutes. I varied the pace of my hand and the tightness of my grip.

Roughly five minutes into the deed white fluid squirted from the pink head leaving streaks near my navel and pelvis. When I let go of my dick it soon reverted its limp state.

"Dude that was HOT. I hope to see it again."

Within a half minute he stripped naked inviting me to suck his succulent morsel.

My head bobbed in his lap sliding my lips up and down along the shaft. I'll swallow if he cums in my mouth.