Date: Sat, 11 Oct 2008 09:37:33 -0700
From: Jay roberts <diplomat1501@msn.com>
Subject: "He Found Billy's Weak Spot Part One" by Jay Roberts  Gay College

++++++No kids allowed.  That means if you are under 18, no go.



"Come on Roomy, jus' give it a little rub."

That was Joe, my disreputable, unwashed, low morals roommate calling
huskily from his bed across the room.  You couldn't help seeing that he had
his hairy cock out and was stroking.  This was not an unusual sight.  He
wanked every night.  I think, he thought, it was done for his health.

How did I, Billy. a Christian kid of nineteen, studying comparative
religion at Hofstra, get into this situation?  It stemming from an ad on
the school bulletin board.?"

	Friendly soph needs roommate to share room in private
         Home.  $200 month.  Kitchenette in alcove, call Joe at xxxxxxx

I left out the cell phone number to protect Joe, although he doesn't need
my help.

I met Joe at the house.  It turned out that Joe, himself, owned the house,
or at least his family.  He was renting out all the five bedrooms.  He was
sitting on the front porch, his bare feet up on the railing, smoking a
pipe.  Because of his scruffy appearance and careless clothes, I wondered
what was in the pipe.  Being a boy trying to avoid the pitfalls of modern
life, life sex before marriage, drugs and booze, I wondered if this house
and my roommate would prove a risky adventure.

Boy oh boy that proved to be a real understatement.

"Fuck, you sure are a neat dude."

He was referring to the fact that I get regular haircuts and wear clean
pants and shirts.  I also shave the little light growth every day.  Not so
Joe who shaved when he felt itchy.

He put a brotherly arm on my shoulders and led me upstairs.  The way he was
holding me, I was forced to smell his intimate underarm odor.  It was not
unpleasant.  It made me slightly dizzy.  The room at the top was the former
master bedroom.  It was large, maybe 20' by 30'.  There was a dressing
alcove with two walk-in closets.  Just outside the room was a small
kitchenette, fully appointed.  I guess the former owners got hungry at
night and had this luxury built in.  I was fast falling in love with this
place.

I moved in that afternoon.  The front door was open.  I staggered upstairs
with my stuff and entered my new quarters.  On one of the beds, Joe was
sprawled asleep, naked.  Hey, I thought, he's really built.  Yeah, muscles
were impressive under the hair on his chest, but "built" also included his
large penis lying against one hip.

I tiptoed out and sat on the porch waiting until he woke up.  I mused about
Joe.  He was certainly brazen.  Did he put on an act to, well, entice me by
pretending to be asleep, and nude too?  It was almost as if he sized me up
and felt that I could "be had."

Could I?

I have never had sex with man, woman or beast...or with myself, hardly.  I
fought the temptation of masturbating with all the willpower I possessed.
I usually was able to control my urges, but I sure had vivid wet dreams.

Besides the contrast in personal habits, there were a sharp differences in
our purchasing power.  Joe's classic yellow Corvette was parked in the
driveway.  I already knew he owned the house, or at least his folks bought
it for him.  In the coming days, I was to see that he drank the most
expensive imported beer and organized cookouts for the house occupants that
included prime steaks cooked on the outdoor barbeque by hired chefs.  I had
to practically subsist on peanut butter and crackers.  I walked the mile
and a half to school.  I had two jobs there, one in the bookstore and the
other at the cafeteria.  Most of money I earned went to pay for my half of
the room rent.

Joe came out on the porch.  "I guess you want to unpack.  The room's all
yours."

It was getting dark by the time I got everything stowed away.  I heard
dishes rattling and the sounds of my housemates conversation over dinner.
I poured myself a glass of water and ate my crackers and peanut butter
feeling real sorry for myself.

That night I turned in about nine.  Joe came in about an hour later.  He
was noisy.  I think he was drunk.  I peaked through one slightly open eye
and he saw him through off his clothes, on the floor actually, and fall
like a dead whale onto his bed.  Immediately he began rubbing his crotch
and soon he had a cock periscope looming up from his luxurious public hair.
He rubbed up and down the shaft, beginning to breath heavily.  Suddenly he
spoke out loud.  "Hey sweet Billy.  I see you looking at the big one.  I
bet you would love to get your hands around him.  I would like that.  I
know it would feel real good.  Come on, don't be shy."

I ignored him and continued to pretend I was asleep.  Suddenly he stopped
and sat up.  "Billy, I really need it.  I would pay you to stroke me."

To my everlasting shame I lifted my head.  "Like how much?"

He laughed in triumph.  "So you are a cock hound.  I thought so.  The
question was how much?  What say twenty bucks, and it'll be our secret?"

Now you may think I was a cheap whore, but twenty bucks was exactly what
I'd earn in one day at those shitty jobs.  "Okay, let's get it over with."

"First you gotta come over here and sit on my bed.  You can't do it from
over there."  He reached down and took out a bill from his pants pocket and
spread it out on his hairy muscular six pack belly."

I stood up.  I was wearing only my under shorts.  "Nice chest," he said
admiringly.  "I didn't think you was such a handsome dude.  Now warm up
your hands 'tween you legs and get with it."

He bed sagged as I sat down on the edge.  His cock was slowly rising like a
magic trick.  The head began to slide out of its handy cover, red, moist
and a small drop of pre cum shimmered at the piss slit.  I studied his face
It had lost that confident smirky look and was now very serious.  I bit of
his tongue was protruding.  His eyes were squinty.  He looked very cute
right now.  That was, until he had to make a rude remark, "Okay ho for
money, gay for pay boi, you are bought, I want my money's worth."

I was caught in this situation.  There was no backing out.  Did I want to
back out?  Perhaps not.  I reached my index finger and rubbed his cock
head, massaging that pearl drop around.  He let out a gasp.  "Oh shit, this
is want I needed, a little love, a little attention."

That really nice approval wiped away all the restraints and doubts from my
mind.  I suddenly felt that I was born to make his cock happy.  I curled my
fingers around it's fat, warm shaft, feeling it expanding in my hand.  Joe
took a couple of hard intakes of breath.  I took that as a compliment.  I
moved my hand softly, hardly grazing his cock, wiping my thumb over the
head at the upswing.  "Oh you shit head, you go me so going.  You are my
queer.  Now grab tighter, move faster.  I gotta cum soon or I'll go nuts."

I ignored his pleas.  I had been reduced to a sex device, but I was going
to be master of his fate, or his cum.  I continued my soft stroking.  He
was beginning to writhe on the bed, his face screwed up into a mask of
pain/pleasure.  I would have laughed, only I was moaning myself.  My own
cock was as hard as I ever remembered it.

I began to drip heavily on my upper legs, and my cock was almost vibrating.
I got the idea that we would cum together.  I would pretend that we were
actually having sex together.  I tightened my hand.  Just that motion
caused his hips to rise and fall, trying to fuck my hand.  Then I began to
move my hand in a shagging motion.  He was almost singing and moaning his
whole body seeking relief.

"Please, please," he said in an almost little boy voice.  "Help me."

I almost came from the thrill of hearing that plea.  I took my hand away.
He looked at me in alarm, but then he saw me licking my palm.  I returned
to his cock and made better contact.  My vigorous wanking now brought him
to the edge of orgasm.  His eyes rolled upwards, his tongue lolled out
completely and he howled out, "Here it cums."

His prick seemed to pull into itself and then extend longer than before.  A
heavy drop appeared as his pulsing piss slit, then a mighty stream
followed, reaching to his chin, then another settling in his chest hair.
Smaller streams followed.  He was grunting and thrusting like a man
possessed. Finally the storm of pleasure was over.  I think he was
embarrassed to realize that he had exposed himself so completely before me.

"Billy boy, that was worth twice as much.  You are the wanker supreme."

He turned on his side and in a minute he was snoring softly.  I got up,
cleaned my own cum off my legs and fell asleep almost as quickly.

The next morning I awoke hating to open my eyes and get derision from him,
but instead he greeted me with a big smile.  "'Morning you hot dude.  Get
ready for more fun tonight."

As I was dressing, I heard him talking to our neighbors, Lee and Dave, then
the roar of his Corvette as he gunned it out of the driveway.

End Part One "Lee?  Could he be Asian?  And Davy?  Wait!