Date: Fri, 01 Sep 2000 00:17:59 EDT
From: Lil Guy <lilguy81@hotmail.com>
Subject: Private School Roommate -  Part 1

This is my first erotic story.  I warn you, it is more on
the romantic side than hard core sex.  I hope you'll take
this story on its own terms and that you all enjoy it.
Please feel free to write me and tell me what you think.

==========================================================

	Private School Roommate
	Part 1

I was really nervous about starting school because I would
be leaving my home for the first time to live somewhere
else.  My parents had arranged for me to go to a private
school north of the city where they thought I could get a
better education.  I was afraid because I wouldn't know
anybody else there, and I had always had difficulty getting
accepted by my peers.

I think that part of it was that I was smaller than
everybody else I knew.  I have always been the "little guy"
and through middle school got picked on a lot.  I guess over
time it developed into a bit of a complex for me, and I
became rather insecure.  Being harassed by your peers tends
to make you a little bit shy.

Upon arriving at the school, my mother and I were greeted by
a faculty assistant in his mid-twenties.  He was very nice
and he helped us with my luggage.  He led us past the front
of the school to the boys' residences on the east side of
the school building.  The building was old dating back to
the 1800s, and ivy carpeted the walls.  The residence was a
newer building with a red brick exterior.  The inside wasn't
nearly as attractive though.  Thick cinder block walls
surrounded us.  The walls were covered with shiny white
paint and the carpet was a dusty blue.

My mother left me in my room, kissed me good-bye, and rushed
back to the car so as not to be late for an appointment she
had back in the city.  The faculty assistant also took his
leave, stranding me alone in my new home.

I started to unpack my clothing.  My roommate had already
arrived it appeared.  On his bed sat a suitcase that was in
the middle of being unpacked, and a stack of books sat on
his desk.  A poster of a rock band's logo hung on the wall,
and a stereo had been mounted on the shelves above his bed.

Before leaving me, the faculty assistant had apologised
because I was to have a roommate who was older than myself.
Because I had applied late and because of the numbers in the
school, I was partnered with a student who was a senior, a
year older than myself.  This had increased my apprehension,
as I anticipated a year of torment under an older boy.  My
apprehension turned to dread when I saw a letterman's jacket
hanging on my roommate's side of the bed.  A jock.  Jocks
have always been the worst.

My reverie was interrupted when a tall and athletic boy
walked into my room.  He had short blonde hair and bright
green eyes and when he saw me his mouth opened into a wide
grin.  "You must be my roommate, John," he said.  "I'm
Blake.  Nice to meet you."

I was actually quite surprised at such a warm welcome.  He
reached out his hand and I shook it.  Something in my
stomach caught when I felt his big hand grasp my own smaller
one.  I didn't understand at that time what I was feeling.

Blake started unpacking his suitcase, tossing his clothing
into drawers while I slowly and methodically placed mine in
careful piles.  I watched him as we worked in silence.  His
strong frame was clearly visible through his T-shirt, and I
could see the muscles of his legs through his sweats.  I
longed to look like him, thinking that I never would.  After
unpacking, Blake waved good-bye and then shot quickly out of
the room.

The next two weeks I spent alone, not really knowing any of
the other boys at the school and afraid to try to get to
know them.  I wandered from class to class, only focusing on
my studies and wary of anybody who tried to talk to me.
Then I would return to my room and study or sleep.  Blake
was often there early before bedtime and I tended to avoid
the room.  Often stopping in just to grab my stuff to leave.
He always tried to start up a conversation, but I avoided
him, slipping out to the library or the dining hall.  I
didn't get to know anybody and I avoided all social events,
trying to hide myself as I had learned to do.

Unfortunately, my attempted invisibility had not protected
me as I had anticipated.  Some of the boys in my grade had
picked me out as an easy target.  They started to make fun
of me and call me a "fag".  There didn't seem to be any real
reason except that I was available to mock.  I also didn't
have any friends to protect me at that point either.  The
harassment increased and it seemed like they were every
single place I went.

It all came to a head near the Christmas Holidays.  I had
just finished a late night of studying at the library in
preparation for mid-terms.  I trudged behind the school
along a short-cut that I had discovered earlier that month.
My breath streamed before me as I wandered towards boys'
residence.  Then I heard the voice: "Hey, it's the fag!"  I
turned and saw Frank, one of the boys who had been
tormenting me that year.  He was with two of his cronies and
the three of them were obviously drunk.

I tried to walk away from them, but they followed.  They
taunted me for a while but I kept walking.  Finally, Frank
grabbed me and said, "Where are you going, faggot?  We got
everything you want right here!"  Terrified out of my mind,
I kicked him in the nads and he went down like a pile of
bricks.  I tried to run, but the snow was too deep.  Their
legs were much longer than mine, and the other two caught
me.  They threw me to the ground and started kicking me.  By
this point I was crying while they laughed over me.  One of
them picked me up and held me so that Frank could punch me
in the stomach.  "You asked for this..."

Then something happened that surprised me more than anything
else ever had.  I was rescued.  A hand grabbed Frank's wrist
and threw him to the ground.  The same hand became a fist
and punched the other boy in the face.  The last coward let
go of me and started to run.  Frank and his buddies beat a
hasty retreat.  "If you ever touch him again, you bastards
I'll swear to God I'll kill you!"

Frank and the boys retreated leaving myself and my defender
alone in the snow.  Everything was silent except for our
panting.  I was curled up on the ground whimpering and he
leaned over and gathered me into his arms.  "It's all right.
It's all right, buddy.  You okay man?  You okay?"  I looked
up and saw Blake's handsome face.  He wore an expression of
worry.  I continued to cry.  He held me close in his strong
arms and murmured reassurances to me as I wept openly in the
cold wet snow.  As I cried I realised that he too was
shaking.

I don't remember how we got there, but Blake and I arrived
at our room.  Most of the other students were outside
residence or off campus at this time, and would be returning
shortly, so Blake quickly closed the door so they would not
see the condition I was in.  He continued to hold me and
comfort me and I hammered my fists against his strong chests
and arms, and I cried angrily at myself for being such a
baby.  That just made him hold me tighter.

When I finally calmed down, he gently stripped the snow-
drenched clothes off my body and laid me down in my bed to
rest.  I had stopped crying, but I was weak and tired from
the whole ordeal.  I lay on my side, half asleep, clutching
the covers to myself.

My eyes were still half open as I lay there.  Blake turned
off all of the lights except for his desk lamp casting the
room in deep shadows.  I could dimly hear the other students
pounding into the residence and joking in the halls;  their
noises were muffled by the thick brick walls.  I watched
Blake wearily pull his shirt off.  I had never watched him
undress before, always afraid that he would think I was a
"fag" or something.  This time I watched him strip, lit only
by his lamp, the shadows emphasising each one of his
muscles.  He had a strong hard body, one that protected me
that day.  I watched the muscles move gently under his
smooth hairless skin as he pulled down his pants.  His legs
were strong and covered by a smattering of hair.  He absent-
mindedly tugged on his penis before climbing under his
covers, concealing his body from me.

I then looked up at his face.  He wiped tears from his own
eyes just as he had done for me.  He closed his eyes I
studied him from across the room.  His strong jaw was
covered in light stubble, and his hair was tousled from the
fight.  He was at that moment, the most beautiful person I
had ever known.  It was what lay underneath his skin that
made him so beautiful;  my strong defender, my protector.  I
thought of how afraid I was of how Blake would treat me,
that he would be yet another tormentor in my life.  I was
ashamed for having thought that.

Blake reached up with his muscled arm and turned off his
lamp, plunging us into pitch darkness but for the light
coming from under the crack of our door.

Outside the door, the noises died down.  The other students
were herded into their rooms by the proctors.  A half-hour
after that, the noise from the boom boxes died as well when
"lights out" came around.  Then I was alone with Blake in
the silence.

I watched him for more than an hour.  I watched him lying on
his back and breathing.  All I could see was the shape of
his chest rising and falling.  All I could do was watch him.
I remembered how he had felt when he held me.  I had felt so
safe, more at ease than I had ever felt in my life.  I
remembered how good it felt to know that somebody cared.  He
had stood up for me.  Me, the invisible man.  I wanted
nothing more than to be held by him again.  The last three
months of utter isolation of being invisible except to the
bullies, the months of torment and cruelty.  The loneliness
that I felt came pouring into my mind, and my eyes began to
mist.

I got out of my bed and climbed onto his.  I pulled his
sheets back and climbed under the covers and cuddled up to
his chest.  I felt Blake move slightly, making a surprised
sound as he felt me move up against him.  My stomach
tightened as I anticipated an assault against my person.  It
never came.  Instead he put his arm around my shoulder like
a protective older brother and held me to him.  I fell
asleep just like that.

I woke again late in the night.  The moon had swung around
to our side of the residence and the pale blue light was
streaming through the window.  I glanced outside at the
still winter night on the other side.  Frost had begun to
form on the corners of the window panes.

Inside the room I was warmer than I had ever felt in my
life.  Blake was still holding me, and I smiled as I rested
my head against his chest.  Blake's breathing was deep and
steady.  I wondered whether he was still asleep.  With my
face against his chest, I could smell him.  He didn't really
smell like anything, he just smelled like himself.  He gave
off a lot of heat and he warmed me under the covers,
shielding me from the cold that was leaking in through the
windows.  I felt his muscled body against my own and I
couldn't help it.  I started to get hard.

I became tense, and now I was fully awake, hyper-aware of
our positions.  I don't know what came over me, but I gently
pushed my hard cock up against Blake's muscled leg.  He
didn't wake up.  I pushed harder.  His breathing remained
steady.  I began to gently hump his leg, sending waves of
pleasure throughout my body.

I inhaled him.  I smelled his flesh underneath my own as I
continued to press my cock against his leg.  I did this for
some time, enjoying his deep breathing accompanying my
pleasure.  Then I did something I never thought I would do;
I touched his cock.  It was flaccid, but still heavy in my
hand.  I gently stroked it, playing my fingers across it.  I
was very careful not to over-stimulate him, for fear that he
would wake up.  Slowly he grew hard, and I felt it grow
heavier and soon rigid.  It felt so full just holding it,
and I continued to play.  Soon he was completely hard and I
listened as his breath became less regular, punctuated with
sighs.  Every so often he let out an unconscious moan.

I played with him for almost half an hour, gently running my
fingers up and down his hard shaft, listening to him moan in
his sleep.  I was so aroused, knowing that I was the reason
he was moaning.  I kept humping his leg, relishing the
sensation of my rock hard cock moving against his strong
muscled leg.

Suddenly he breathed in deeply and he woke up.  "Wha... John,
what're you...?"

I quickly moved away from him, and in a panic left the bed.
His hand reached out and grabbed me by the wrist, just as he
had grabbed Frank earlier that night.  His grip was like a
vise, even in his groggy state.  We stood in this awkward
tableau for a moment, silence filling the room.  My heart
was racing, I was ready to die.  I had finally found a
friend and I had screwed it up.  I had completely ruined any
chance of getting close to him.  I wanted to die, then and
there.

The silence was almost palpable.  My wrist hurt as I tried
to pull away, but Blake refused to let go.  I refused to
look at him, I didn't want to see the hate in his eyes.

"We...you don't have to go, John," he whispered to me through
the darkness.  It took a moment for me to understand what he
had just said.  Slowly it filtered through and I began to
relax.  As I relaxed and stopped pulling away, Blake's grip
loosened as well.  I climbed back into the bed and he pulled
me back into our original position.  I was so nervous, my
heart felt like it was going to explode.  I could hear it
beating inside my head.

We lay in silence for a moment, side-by-side in his little
bed.  There wasn't enough room for both myself and his large
frame, no matter how small I was.  We were still touching
each other.  "When...," Blake began.  "When I saw those guys
hitting you...I was so scared.  I was so scared, and I was so
angry..."  He was shaking.  I pressed against him again,
resting my head on his chest.  "I... God, if they touch you
again I swear..."  He turned his head to me, and I could see
tears misting in his eyes.  "I will never let anybody hurt
you."  He then hugged me tightly to his chest and I hugged
him back.

It all seemed so unusual the way he was talking, the way we
were behaving, and yet it was so absolutely perfect.  Then I
felt it.  I felt him growing hard again.  He tried to push
me away, but I held him tight.  We struggled briefly.
Finally he stopped and I relaxed and he pulled away to look
at me.  His face was lit by the pale blue light of the moon,
brighter because of the reflection off the snow.  I looked
at his strong masculine face, and I saw the tiny shadows his
stubble made across his skin.  We gazed at each other, and
the moment hung in the air between us.  That was when he
leaned over and kissed me.

I was caught completely off-guard.  I had never been kissed
before in my life, and here a man who I had quietly admired
and worshipped was pressing his lips against my own.  His
stubble gently rubbed against my hairless face.  He pushed
his tongue gently into my mouth, and I caressed it with my
own.  We clung to each other kissing passionately as if we
would die if we couldn't have each other.  I pressed against
him, and he pushed his cock against my body.  My own penis
was pushing out against my underpants and rubbing against
him.

He pushed me onto my back and began to devour me.  His mouth
kissing and licking me all over, every so often returning to
my mouth to shower me with kisses.  He slowed down when he
reached my underpants.  He began to gently rub my cock
through the fabric as he humped the mattress beside me.
Slowly, he removed my shorts.  "Have you ever done this
before?" he whispered.

"No," I replied.  I paused as he held my penis.  "Have you?"

He paused again.  "No," he replied quietly.  "Do you want me
to stop?"

"No."

With that, he took my cock in his mouth.  I moaned in
ecstasy as he worked my rock hard member in and out of his
mouth.  He went down deep on it, and gagged a little,
demonstrating his inexperience.  I stroked his hair as he
bobbed up and down on my manhood.  Because he was my first,
I had no idea that he was inexperienced as well.  All I knew
was how good I felt under his attention.  I reached down and
kneaded his shoulders as he blew me.  His muscles were
taught and huge under my small hands.  I lost all sensation
in my body because all I could feel was him on my cock.  He
worked the slippery head up and down, taking me deep and
spending time caressing the head as well.  He wrapped his
lips tightly around the rod when he came down, bobbing up
and down.  I started to fuck his face as the sensations grew
more intense.  Soon I was writhing in ecstasy, trying not to
moan too loudly for fear of waking our neighbours.  And I
came.  I shot, and I shot into his mouth, and Blake took it
all.  I fucked his face furiously as I unloaded my cum down
his throat.  Blake held down my thrashing legs as I came, my
body convulsing with each contraction.  The cum dribbled
down the sides of my cock as Blake struggled to swallow it
all.

The last shot left me exhausted, my body spent.  Blake
licked the cum off my cock and sensitive from the orgasm, I
flinched each time.  We quietly giggled together at that.
Blake then sat up and leaned against the wall next to his
bed, and pulled me up into his arms as if I was nothing more
than a doll.  He put me on his lap, arranging my legs to
straddle his.  We kissed and I could taste my cum in his
mouth.  He held me with his strong arms and I thought that
if I died in that moment, it would be the happiest way to
go.  He stroked my back and my hair and I ran my hands up
and down his hard chest.

We sat together in the darkness, holding each other like
that listening to the silence throughout the building.  All
I could hear was our breathing.  Then, I felt him whisper in
my ear: "Can I fuck you?"

To Be Continued...