Date: Mon, 5 Aug 2013 21:34:32 -0400 From: Paul Lantoro <lanto7777@gmail.com> Subject: Roommate Freakout and Payback Another new story. Comments welcome at above email - thanks and enjoy! -Paul =-=-=-= Roommate Freakout and Payback =-=-=-= He warned me. But, see, this is why being careful is sometimes bullshit. I pushed him too far and paid the price. Things got rougher than I expected. But you know what? I fuckin' LOVED it. This story just happened, last night. I'm in Boston, in this new one-month sublet situation, just for August. I got kicked out of my original summer sublet. Long story, what can I say, I like to party and yeah I sometimes get into trouble. So this friend of a friend of a friend takes me in. Dude's name is Vince. His roommate is away til Labor Day weekend and he could use the $400. I'm out of options so I take it. We are a fucking mismatch but I swear I'm gonna try to make it work enough just for the month. Mismatch, how to even describe it. Ok, here goes: ME: 19, queer/bi, totally out, oversexed, drug-friendly, totally outgoing personality, up for anything. 5'9, shaggy hair, lean build, tattoos. Mischievous eyes, pouty mouth, truth is I really am hot in a bad- boy kind of way. I get laid easy on Grindr, anytime I want. I'm on my cell half the time, chatting/texting. My name is Eli, short for Elijah. VINCE: 21, muscle dude, keeps to himself, I can't tell if he is straight or homo or what but he's kind of uptight. He's 6'0 and probably weighs 210. Awesome huge shoulders and arms and pecs if you like all that big beefy he-man shit. Handsome face, way-short dark hair, he looks kind of like a lost Roman soldier who time traveled into 2013. Big brown eyes, and this serious and cautious expression on his face. WHY WE'RE HERE: It turns out Vince is taking summer courses in Accounting because he wants to get an MBA after graduating, and he needs some prep classes. Me, I'm working part time at an ice cream joint and re-taking a required class that I failed spring semester. I kind of went crazy my freshman year, had too much fun. I don't really need the ice cream joint hours, Dad has plenty of money, sends me some. But it keeps me out of trouble. Well, kind of. I thought Vince might reject me as a sublet when I said up front that I'm queer/homo. Well I didn't actually say it like that, just said something like: "I'm single, had a boyfriend, don't now, but is that kind of thing gonna be an issue with you?" He paused for a minute, I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but then he said "Nah." So I move in last Wednesday night, July 31. Vince eyes me warily with that handsome face of his. "No parties or crazy stuff, I'll say it again, landlord lives downstairs." He heard about my past history. I say "Sure, no problem" but am already wondering if a little pot smoking is allowed. Vince takes me room to room and points out the rules, where I can put my stuff, and so on. He's so serious. And huge. I imagine Vince shirtless, massive, dropping his pants and grabbing me and throwing me down and fucking me like a beast. Too bad he's so fucking uptight, because I am a great lay and this mouth of mine can open real wide and deep. I could make him a lot happier than he looks at the moment. Point of pride for me, dudes have been known to get delirious with ecstasy when I suck them off. I'm getting distracted now. I look up at my new roomie the Hulking Roman Solider, my mouth slides into a grin and I say "You sure have some big muscles there Vince, you take stuff for that?" Mistake. His eyes darken and he growls at me "What are you tryin' to say?" I say "Easy, sorry, just wondering. I see all this stuff on the shelves." Half the kitchen cupboards are filled with bodybuilding powders and supplements and stuff. He repeats "It's all legal, I don' t do steroids, OK? and besides, you don't need to get into my business. I don't get into yours. Understand?" "Sure thing, Vince." He didn't want to say too much else to me. I tried kidding around with him a couple of times as I moved my stuff in, and he didn't seem to like it that much. But a lot of people are like that at first, with me. That's OK, I can usually wear them down with my charms and my irresistible personality. So, Friday night I went over my friend Danny's apartment and we got totally stoned and went to see The Conjuring. Awesome movie! Even better high. Haunted house, terrorized family, a real 1970s feel to the whole thing. The mother gets totally fucking possessed by a demon and I swear, being stoned I thought she was leaping out of the screen right at me a couple of times. It was great! Seriously: go see this movie if you like getting scared, like psych-scared, mind-fucked. So anyway I come home all wound up from the Conjuring and it's midnight. Big Vince is in the kitchen in a t-tank and sweats drinking some big protein-banana shake and writing in a notebook. His body really is off the hook. I tell him about the movie, how fucking great it was. About Lily Taylor going batshit insane as she gets exorcized. "And then the priest, well he's not a priest but he's all they have, he starts reciting Latin and this makes her go WOUUUAAAGH!!!" and here I make a crazy-monkey demonic face and a sick sounding demon-shriek and a half-lunge in Vince's direction. His big brown eyes bug out in real fear for just a second. "Don't fuckin' do that" he says. I keep at it though. "Aw Vince, I tell you it was fucking sick! I did the same thing you just did, jumped right in my seat!" And I do it again, crazy demon face and shriek: "WWWOUUUUAUUGHH!!!" Vince's eyes widen in alarm again, it's like he is a freaked out little boy stuck inside a huge muscle suit. Funny as hell to see. But then his powerful arm propels forward and shoves me backward. "I said DON'T FUCKIN' DO THAT. And if you do it again, I am not responsible for what happens. You might end up in the E.R." I pivot to apologies, try to calm him down. He says he's going to bed, and he saunters down the hall. I look at those broad beefy shoulders coming out of the tank. My dick is half-hard. I want to have this dude before the month is over. I go on Grindr and find some slutty Asian boy 4 blocks away. I fuck this hot boy raw at his place. He whimpers like a puppy and hopes I'll call him again. I get home, I tiptoe back in at 2am, and stand quietly for a moment outside Vince's bedroom door. Wondering who he fucks, if anyone. I think about his massive pecs and arms, and that sudden fear in his eyes. I imagine he grew up Catholic. I bet he might really believe in hell and demons and shit like that. Scared boy, big man. Huh. I continue down to my room. I tease Vince a little on Saturday around noon, walking into the kitchen in just a skimpy t shirt and sexy underwear. He does look at me but then turns his head away. I think he's straight. Maybe. We don't see each other much for the rest of the weekend. Then late Sunday afternoon I come home and I think I hear faint sounds coming from his room. I tiptoe toward the door. He's got something on headphones, human voices. I think it's porn. I listen carefully. Yup. Porn. And I don't hear a woman making porn-bitch cries and squeals. I do hear something like that but it sounds more like a guy. Hard to tell, someone else's headphone sounds through a door; it might be a woman sucking a guy off so she's not making noise. But I think it's two guys! I hear fap-fap-fap, Vince is beating off. I imagine that huge meaty arm of his doing the masturbating. I wonder how big that dick is, haven't even seen a hint of it so far. I hear Vince go "uhhhh" softly and whip off the headphones. I hurry silently down the hall to my room so I don't get busted. So then I'm totally fucking goddamn horny. I go on Grindr and find a "str8/curious" dude a few blocks away. He's ok looking, but has a nice big uncut dick. I go over there and suck it for all I can. Mmmm, so hot. The dude blows a thick delicious load in my mouth. He lets me stroke off a minute later. I lick up my own cum with my fingers. "You like that?" the dude asks, not quite believing it. "Hell yeah" I say, my broad smile backing up the words. I leave without even learning his name. I come back in and Vince is more friendly than usual. He ordered a large combo pizza and "you can have two slices if ya want." I thank him and we sit and chow down on the pizza. He asks me where I'm from, we talk about stuff. I grin and ask if he's got a girlfriend. He says no. I say "no boyfriend either huh?" He laughs, says "fuck you" and says I should hit the gym once in a while, not be such a waste-of- space pothead. Nice subject change, I think. I am getting horny again. I want Vince, sitting right there next to me in his tight gray T shirt and sweats. I goof around with it, batting my pretty hazel eyes like a cartoon character: "Gee, wow, do you think maybe you could teach me how to lift big?" He laughs again. "Do you ever get serious about anything? It takes discipline, ya know. I'm in there every day whether I feel like it or not." I realize this is true, and that it will probably always separate his body from mine. I tell him I have no discipline, but I need some. "Can I buy that in powder drink form?" I ask. He shakes his head, chuckling. "You never stop, do ya." We're getting along great. And then – I don't know what comes over me. I have to do it. I lean in slightly toward him as he's chowing down his last slice of veggie-sausage combo pizza. "Vince, you have something on your forehead -- hold still -- and then I launch into my possessed-demon sicko face and crazy barbaric yelp: "WWWOOOUUUUAUUGH!!!" Vince bugged out, screamed out loud in fright, "Aieee!!" as his arms went flying up and the pizza slice flew across the room to land splat against a kitchen cupboard, and his Diet Coke flew sideways, spilling out onto the floor. I burst out laughing. Big Vince, squealing like a little pussy. Fucking HILARIOUS! I wished I had video-recorded it. But then suddenly, in two seconds, his fright shifted gears and became rage. And I mean all-out RAGE. Next thing I knew, two huge hands were wrapped around my neck, tight. And staring into me from just inches away was the big angry face of Vince, breathing combo pizza into my face. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?" I gurgled, his hands were choking me. He choked even tighter. "WHAT. THE FUCK. DID YOU JUST DO." His voice lower, his breath surging like a furnance. He was fucking strangling me. Now my face was in bug-eyed terror and my arms flailed helplessly, my mouth struggling to make words that my throat couldn't voice. I stared up at his face and couldn't find the human, it was just that total fucking RAGE staring into me from those big dark eyes as his massive hands choked my neck. Oh fuck, he's literally gonna kill me, strangle me dead right now. Tears are rolling down my face, my brain is fainting, my body spasming out beyond any control. Is this it? Death? Suddenly he dragged me by the neck over to the sofa, shoved me face down onto the cushions, and kept shoving my face into the cushions. My arms and legs were still jerking like an epileptic, I was seeing floaty stars around my vision, my lungs were making crazy empty motions, my heart was pounding so crazy that a cardiac arrest could kill me if strangulation didn't. Finally he let my neck free for an instant and, holy fuck, my head jerked back and made the craziest huge sucking-in sound as my lungs struggled to take in the biggest hugest breath I ever could. A second later he was on my back, pinning me down, and he shoved my face back down into the cushion. "Fuckin' laughing now? HUH?!" I wriggled so hard trying to get another breath, but his massive body pressed down hard onto mine and his hands held my head down buried in the cushion. Suddenly he let go, grabbed a bunch of my hair and jerked my head up, almost snapping my neck. I gasped and cried in shock, desperate to get air, to stay alive, tears pouring down my face. I couldn't breathe fully with his bodyweight bearing down on me. "Go ahead, you fucking fag. Do it again." I just breathed as hard as I could, still way short of air. In total panic, fighting for my life. His thick meaty arm wrapped around my face, it felt like that huge arm was 120 degrees hot. The other hand pulled harder on a fistful of my shaggy hair. "I said fuckin' DO IT AGAIN." I tried to obey, tried to make the demon-imitation sound but all that came out was a feeble, coughing "woo' uh'—uhh—" I kept gasping and gasping for whatever air I could get into me. His huge hot arm tightened around my eyes and nose. And then I swear a whole long two minutes passed slowly. . . just. . . like. . . this. Him spread out on top of me, pinning me face down into the sofa, his big thick arm wrapped around my face and his other hand holding tight onto a fistful of my hair. He just held us in this position. And I breathed all I could, way down into a tiny pocket of access air in the cleft of the sofa cushions. Him on top of me, full and strong and heavy, the flesh of his huge arm pressed snug across my face, and the scent of pizza from his breath. Me trying to stay with it, still panicked, but now in a steady pattern, no longer fighting to survive. And after two or three slow and full minutes of this, him holding my face in a hot tight hammerlock and just breathing, breathing, breathing -- I felt his hips start to grind a little onto me and felt a warm sensation of his dick pressed along my leg. I was still short of air, gasping down into the cushions, but now I realized I was hard as a rock. The intensity of what just happened, the choking, the insane adrenaline thing. I was fucking rock hard even as I struggled down into the corner of the sofa, searching for more air. With huge Vince spread out on top of me. Finally he flipped me over. I stared up at him in shock, finally gasping with full access to air. He wouldn't look me in the eye, he just put a cushion behind my head as I took more hungry breaths, staring up at his muscled body underneath the tight gray T-shirt. His pits and chest were darkened with fresh sweat, his face was lost in intensity, and suddenly he grabbed the back of my head with his hand and straddled me, shoving his crotch into my face. I needed air. I wanted that dick. I struggled, tried to use my own hands to pull his sweats down but he pushed them away and kept shoving his dick into my face through the cotton sweatpants. I sucked hungrily at the fabric and the bulging heat underneath, sucking sucking sucking and then turning away to grab a deep breath or two. Then back to that dick still wrapped in sweatpants, sucking and sucking on it until all the cloth around his dick was sopping wet with my saliva. I turned away and gasped another intake of breath, my lungs begging for mercy. Then in one quick motion he shoved his sweats and underwear down, and that dick bounded out . It was 7", not crazy huge but very fat and thick, and circumcised with a fat mushroom head on it. It was erect and shoved upward against my face. And an instant later, that thick fat dick was balls-deep in my mouth. God, I sucked and sucked. Gave the best fucking fellatio that I knew how. He was all charged up, face-fucking me roughly, pulling the back of my head, forcing me to deep throat him again and again and again. Finally my arms started to flail again, I was desperate for breath. He pulled his throbbing wet cock out of my mouth and let me grab just three or four quick, panting breaths of air. Then he grabbed my head and fucked my throat again, his hand controlling my entire head and his warm thick dick going Shove Shove Shove down into the back of my throat. I gagged and he whipped my mouth off of him for just an instant, allowed me one deep breath in and out, then he shoved that cock all the way back in to the max. I gagged again, and he slapped the side of my face, WHAP! It stung, and I struggled to breathe. This was the craziest fucking blow job I'd ever given. Part of me still didn't know if I'd be killed at the end of it. He kept fucking my mouth and throat, sometimes letting me take a few breaths, but other times brutally not letting me. He just kept on fucking my head like it was a melon with a hole cut in it, like it wasn't even me, like it didn't matter than I was gagging and choking and starting to really struggle. Then finally giving me a moment of mercy. Just a moment. Me gasping, panting, then he takes control again, grab, shove, his cock owning my mouth and throat again, on and on and on. Finally, without even a word of warning, he went "unnnhhhh!" and that dick gushed a big thick warm load of cum into my mouth. The strongest jets of it went shooting down my throat but then his hand relinquished its vice grip and I pulled my head back, and the last few spurts flowed slow onto my tongue. Sweet fuck, it tasted good, so animal and raw and real. I swirled my tongue around his dick sensually, and he gasped out loud. His whole body convulsed a little. He was breathing heavy now. His hand began to stroke my hair gently. I slowly gulped down all the cum that was swirled around in my mouth, and just let his warm juicy dick rest right there. Slowly softening, still so warm and alive and juicy. A long, slow, delicious whole minute passed. I looked up at him, wanting eye contact, but his handsome face was upturned with his eyes closed. His powerful chest rose and fell slowly, still encased in the tight gray t-shirt. He slowly slipped his cock out of my mouth and got up off me and off the sofa like it never happened. Then he turned around. "Clean up the fuckin' mess." He walked down the hall to his room. Oh yeah, soda was spilled across the floor and a pizza slice had landed on the kitchen cabinet. I was still overwhelmed by what had happened, still breathing harder than normal, and now a raw and rough pain was spreading through my neck. I lay back on the sofa guess the initial shock at being near strangled to death was wearing off, and now the normal pain stuff was kicking in. After resting for what felt like half an hour, I staggered slowly to my feet, and got a sponge. Clean up the fuckin' mess. I did. Carefully. With discipline. Vince's bedroom door was shut, but I'm a communicating type of person and it was driving me crazy to not say anything. I reached for my phone on the kitchen counter and opened a text message window, punched in his number . A number I'd only entered a week ago. Vince. My roommate. The dude who almost choked me to death and then face fucked me like a boss, and then just walked away. Who screamed like a little pussy inside his big muscle kit, when I did my demonic possession thing at him one time too many. Who can bench press an SUV. Who almost killed me. Who stroked my hair so gently after that last drop of semen dripped onto my tongue. Vince. I paused and stared at the phone for a long time. My neck was hurting more and more. Tears welled in my eyes from the pain and from the overwhelm of it all. Finally I typed: lesson learned I then wrote some more stuff. Too much stuff. Then it erased it all. Keep it simple. Discipline. Restraint. Just tell him "lesson learned" . I hit Send. Waited. The response from "Vince M" came back two minutes later. It said: good And then a follow up: i would rather not kill you. so dont fuck up again. just provide more head if or when i want. Wow. Again, this was just last night. Today my neck is brutally bruised, it's early August and if I leave the apartment I have to wear a sweatshirt in the heat. But I remember every minute of what happened. It was fucking scary at the worst. It was fucking great at the end. I want more sex with Vince. Whatever we do is up to him. But I want. Want my mouth on that fat juicy dick of his. Want him naked, letting my hands and my mouth feel and taste his body, feel and taste those huge thick humpy muscles all over him. Want my warm wet tongue all up in that big round musky-smelling muscle ass. And more than anything I want him to feel how good my fuck-hole feels. I want him plowing me missionary, pounding me doggy, laying back while I ride it with all I've got. I want it all. Vince. Today is August 5. I'm here in this apartment with him until August 30. It takes a lot to shock me and he sure did: holy fuck and goddamn, my neck hurts. He's the boss, no question. I won't fuck up again. But I want more. Whatever more is.