Author's Note: This story deals with some very questionably consensual sex. In reality, consent in sex must be explicit and on-going. Do not force yourself on another person when they say no, unless you've made it very clear beforehand that "no" is not a safeword. And do not have sex with someone who is too drunk to consent explicitly. This story is not an endorsement of the characters' actions. This story may be copied and reposted, but only if my name and this author's note is attached. If you enjoy this story, you may also enjoy some of my published work, available at amazon.com/author/thomascarver.
"Hey, Jake, my buddy from high school's coming up here next week. Can he stay on the couch?"
I didn't look up from the computer. "I don't care."
"Cool." Seth held his phone, like a squirrel holds a nut, and texted. "He's thinking of transferring up here," he said.
"Yeah, cool." I was trying to finish this paper for human geography. Ten weeks, and I still didn't know what human geography even was, or what this paper was supposed to be about, but I had to get it done.
I tried to ignore the sound of Seth getting ready. He was a partier, went out every weekend, and weekends started on Thursday. I went with him sometimes, but where he hung out with his wrestling teammates and fratboys, I hung out with -- no one, really. I'd joined the LGBT alliance, went to two meetings, and then lost interest.
I'd actually forgotten that he was coming, until next week rolled around and I came home from classes to find a stranger sitting on the couch with Seth. Not so much sitting, really, as dominating.
"Yo, Jake, this is Dave. Dave, this is my roommate Jake."
Dave stood. He was a big guy, not fat but broad, tall, firm. His hand swallowed mine, and while I'm a little bit short I felt like a dwarf next to him. Even Seth, with his lanky legs, looked small next to Dave.
He grunted something between "what's up" and "good to meet you," and I said something else equally polite into his chest. Then he sank down into the couch again, which squeaked, the Ikea fiberboard stretching under his weight. A big guy, all muscle. His fingernails had black grease under them.
I sat in our ironically retro beanbag chair. "You thinking of coming here? You're not a freshman -- "
"Fuck, no. Gonna transfer from state. What do you guys do for fun around here?"
Seth was up for it. "Party, man. You gotta meet the Epsilons."
He had a thin beard, more long stubble than anything, and it flexed into a sneer. "Frats? Seriously?"
"No, man, they're cool," Seth said.
"What about you, Jake?"
My gut fluttered weirdly when he turned his eyes on me. They were dark, like his short hair. Everything about him was just bigger, more intense. He drew the whole room into his gravity. "I play games, watch TV, you know, normal stuff."
"You guys are fucking boring."
I shrugged, but heat rose in my face. I didn't mind being boring, or even being bored, but somehow being judged as boring by him bugged me. I wanted to backtrack and think of something cool, but I couldn't.
"What about girls? Getting pussy?" he said.
Seth wasn't exactly attractive, unless you liked guys who were carved out of bony angles, and his hyperactive jittering tended to turn girls off. "Sometimes," he said, lying.
"I'm not really into girls," I said, once again wishing I could think of something else.
"Jake's gay," Seth helpfully supplied, and I could have killed him.
"Yeah? Queers are cool." And he reached down and adjusted the package in his thin grey sweatpants. It was a whole handful, and he had a big hand. It reminded me of a video we'd watched in human geography, of loggers pushing logs down the muddy bank of a river, and I laughed.
"No," he said. He must have thought I was laughing at what he said. "I mean, they are. I don't mind queers."
"Okay," I said.
The two of them decided to go out. "You wanna come, Jake?" Dave asked. Again, he reached down and shifted the mass between his legs.
"No, I'm good. Got a paper to finish."
"Come on, man, we'll get you on a dick, promise. Be easier than getting this lame ass in a pussy."
"Fuck you, Dave," Seth said.
"No, man, fuck you." And they laughed.
By the time they got back, I was already asleep. It was about two in the morning, according to the blurry red numbers floating in the dark. Then my door opened, light flooded in, and I sat up blinking. Dave had his shirt off, his bulging muscles glistening with sweat, and one beefy arm around Seth. Seth's arm limply hung off Dave's shoulder.
"Not my room," Seth blearily protested.
"No, it's cool," Dave said.
"Seriously, though, it's not his room." I put my bare feet on the floor, and Dave flopped Seth across my bed.
He pulled off one of his shoes. "Dunno what happened to the other one," he said. "What a fucking night. Help me with his pants."
"This isn't his room," I said again.
Dave just shook his head. He grabbed the cuffs of Seth's jeans and hauled them off, without bothering to unbuckle them. Good thing Seth wore them lose, or it'd tear his dick right off, I thought.
His underwear came with them and I got more of a view of Seth's pale, skinny ass than I ever wanted. "Dude, not his bed." I put my hand on his biceps, and he was greasy with sweat. It wasn't even that hot.
"Shh," he said. "Shh." He lay back next to Seth, worked his buttons lazily for a while, and then gave up and tore open his shirt. "There. There he goes." He shuffled out of his own sweatpants. He wore compression shorts underneath, and they stretched under the pressure of his cock. "Come here, queer. Come here," he gestured with one muscular arm. "Come here."
My boxers stirred at the sight of him, naked, ropes of muscle covered in sweat. "It's not his bed," I protested, weakly.
"Come on," Seth mumbled. "Come on." I had no idea if he even knew where he was. He smelled of alcohol, something a lot stronger than beer this time.
I supposed I could go sleep in his room. "How much did you guys drink?"
"Enough. This lightweight just can't hold his booze."
"You're sweating all over my bed."
"Yeah, I'm rolling. Come on, man." He held out one arm again. The other he ran up and down Seth's chest.
"Dude," Seth mumbled, but he didn't push him off.
"Seriously, I'm going to go sleep in Seth's bed, or the couch or something."
"No, you're not. Get in the fucking bed."
"Just you guys go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning." I headed for the door.
Now he was up, faster than I expected, and he had my arm in his grip. His fingers wrapped all the way around it. "You fucking want this," he said, and he pulled my hand over the wet bulge in his shorts. His cock pulsed, hot, under my palm. His whole body was hot, like he had a fever.
He pulled me in to a bear hug, spun me around in his slick grip, and ground his bulge in my ass. "Fuck, man, I gotta fuck you," he said.
"Stop it," I said, trying to push out of his grip. I struggled, but he was too strong. He could hold me down with one hand, and there was nothing I could do against the full strength of his grip. He slid his hand down my body, between the elastic of my shorts, and yanked them down. Now he ground against my bare ass, and his hand cupped my balls.
"You're getting hard," he said. "You wanna suck your roomie?"
Seth slurred out, "want pussy," and scratched at his hanging balls. They were large, pale, and his cock lay soft against his leg. His foreskin gathered over it.
"You wanna suck me?"
"No, come on, let me go."
He put his lips against my ear. "Say you want my cock in your ass, say you want me to fuck your faggot ass."
"No, come on."
"I'll let you go if you say it."
"Fine, I want you to fuck me," I said, but his grip just tightened.
"Suck him," he said, and he pushed me down, hard, to my knees. It hurt, and I protested, but he ignored me. He stood over me, a mountain of muscle, pushed my face into Seth's crotch. "Suck him."
I pushed my lips tight, but my nose and chin rubbed against his balls, and his cock stirred. Seth reached down and ran his fingers through my hair. "Thas nice," he said.
Seth's cock was getting harder, and the foreskin had started to retreat. He had a few white flakes of smegma clinging to the pink head. He drunkenly stroked at my face, pawed at it really, but Dave held a handful of my hair. "Suck," he ordered, "or I beat your ass. Make yourself fucking useful, faggot."
I opened my mouth and lapped at Seth's junk. It tasted of sweat and a bit of smoke. Seth moaned under me, and Dave let up a bit on my hair. "Put it in your mouth now," he said, his voice a low growl.
I did, and it hardened further. It was cold on my lips at first. Seth let out a sigh. "Oh yeah," he said, "suck me," but his eyes were still closed and his fingers toyed ineffectually with my hair.
But being drunk didn't stop him from getting hard. It wasn't right, but there was nothing I could do. I thought, if I could make Seth come fast, maybe Dave would lose interest. I deepthroated him, and Dave let up a bit on my head, letting me move up and down on the length of Seth's cock. Now I gave him a proper blowjob, and once I started, I didn't mind so much. In fact, my roommate turned out to have a nice cock. I'd never been attracted to him, never let myself, because that's how you end up with awkwardness and weirdness.
I sucked him for a long time. He had whiskey dick, and maybe he even had enough time to sober off. He become at least lucid enough to realize who I was. "Dude," he said, "dude, you're sucking my cock."
"Yeah, faggot told me how hungry he was for it," Dave said.
"Okay," Seth said, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Feels good."
"A mouth's a mouth. Can't believe you didn't use this fag earlier. I woulda fucked him raw the first day, turned him out and made him my bitch."
"Yeah," Seth said, his eyes still closed. "Be my bitch."
I felt a little less bad for enjoying, even a little bit, the blowjob. In the morning, this would all be awkward, maybe even troublesome. Maybe disastrous. But for now, at least, he was enjoying it, and not objecting too much.
"Suck me now," Dave said, and pulled me back so hard I overbalanced and fell on my ass. He bore me down to the ground, straddling my chest, pushing the wet lycra to my lips. He'd hardened fully, now, and his cock snaked up to the elastic, the head poking out of it, thick and purple and wet with need. He pulled down the elastic, freeing the full length. It was huge, much bigger than mine, and thick. "Get it real wet," he said. "Real fucking wet."
I put the head in my mouth, and that itself was a lot. It tasted salty, faintly of cum already. He pushed, stretching my throat. I gagged, choked, but he didn't relent, just pulled my head down on his spike until he couldn't go anymore and I was tasting bile. I struggled, but there was no purchase, and my slaps and punches bounced off him. Might as well punch a building. I worked my throat, choking down my sour stomach, until he pushed deeper in my throat. Now at least I couldn't puke. I could barely breath, his cock filled me. He reached down and ran his hands over my throat, feeling his cock through it. "Yeah, fuck, that's hot," he said. "You ever let a guy piss in your mouth, faggot? Bet you do. Bet you love that. Too bad I'm rolling too hard to piss. I'm fucking dry, dude. I'm gonna cum dust."
He pulled out of my throat and pushed me back down on Seth, who had fallen unconscious. My lips on his soft cock quickly roused it again, and he woke up.
Then Dave let go of me and started opening the drawers in my nightstand. I could break and run, I realized, get to the door, run out into the hall naked. Or just get to my phone and dial -- what, 911? And say what? I just sucked my roommate and his buddy and I -- what? They're drunk? I'm not. I was the one breaking the law, if a law was being broken.
Something sputtered behind me, and then he pushed cool gel between my cheeks. I let Seth's cock fall out of my mouth. "No," I said, "please, no."
"Shut up, queer. You want this so bad you're dying for it."
"No, please, I'll suck you off, I swear, just don't -- "
"Back on your roomie's cock, faggot. Your mouth ain't for talking." And he shoved my face into Seth's crotch hard enough to wake Seth up.
"Fuck, that hurt," Seth muttered, and I took up his cock and swallowed it. He sighed and relaxed.
"You make him cum before I get you ready," Dave said, "and you can suck me off instead. But if you take too long, I'm gonna fuck you."
"I don't want -- "
"Every time you drop that cock and talk, you're losing time," and his fingers pried between my tight cheeks, and the tip of one pushed against my wet hole, the nail scratching.
I swallowed Seth's cock, sucking him now as well as I could, and as fast. I could tell he was getting close, even with the whiskey dick. But while I sucked, Dave slid his long, thick fingers into my ass. It hurt, but I didn't let myself get distracted.
Seth was close. He was breathing fast, and now he was awake, or as awake as he could be, his hands guiding my head. I used my own hands as an extension of my mouth and milked his cock with each slurp. His loose foreskin slid back and forth, and his precum leaked on my tongue. My own cock was hard, painfully hard, even with Dave's cruel stretching of my ass.
Dave's fingers, rough and calloused, tugged at the tender skin of my hole. There was no gentleness in it, no subtlety. He was going to kill me, I thought, if he just stuck that cock in me. And then he slid his finger all the way in, and I gasped around Seth's cock.
But I couldn't stop. I had to make Seth come, and he was real close now. His chest and face had reddened, and his breath came fast. I got him all the way down my throat and stroked his tight balls.
And then he curled up around his hips and pushed me down, squirting thick cum, spurt after spurt, into my mouth. I swallowed it, no other option.
"Good job," Dave said.
And then he pushed the head of his cock in me, and I tried not to scream. It stretched me as if he'd stuck a baseball bat up there, and I had to remind myself, force myself, to relax. He didn't let up, just pushed slow and relentlessly in, against my body's attempt to expel him.
He had to be all the way in me, but still he pushed. Tears sprung into my eyes, and my cock wilted. Seth slept beneath me. I pushed my head between his legs, into the mattress, comforted by his warmth. Dave was hot up against me, hot and sweaty and hard. His body was firm, his arms wrapped around my stomach and chest from behind, bands of steel.
"I ain't even that far in you yet," he said. "Open the fuck up for me, bitch."
I tried. I tried to take him, but I couldn't. "You're hurting me," I whined.
"I like hurting you."
"Yeah, shut the fuck up." And he pushed harder, and I yelped. He pulled out again, burning, pulling, but that was enough to get my hole to relax, and now when he pushed it didn't hurt as much. I relaxed further, drawing in the dank air between Seth's legs with long, slow breaths.
His chest touched my back. It was smooth, firm as wood. "I'm balls deep, bitch. You like that?"
"Hurts," I whimpered.
"Yeah. Say you love it."
"I love it," I said.
He pulled out and slammed back in, a little too fast. I yelled, and Seth stirred. "Mean it when you say it."
"I love it," I cried, trying to be convincing.
"I bet you do. Tight as fuck, tighter than a cunt. Come on, bitch, let's rock." And he started sliding, back and forth, in and out.
The motion relaxed me further, and now the pain ebbed. It still felt wrong, a piercing, painful submission. A violation. But now my cock stirred, and his thick meat filled me out, found my prostate, and rubbed me from the inside. "Fuck," I whimpered, now, not entirely in pain. "Fuck."
"Yeah, fuck is right, cunt. Oh, fuck, you're tight. Tight little shitter."
"Fuck me," I said. I turned my face and spoke into Seth's smooth thigh. He was snoring now. "Fuck me."
"I am fucking you, bitch."
I don't know what came over me. I lifted my head. "Yeah? Tell me when you're in me. I can't feel it." I immediately regretted my smart mouth.
He growled like an animal, drew me into a bear hug against him, and slammed into me hard enough that burning pain rolled up my guts to my heart. His hips sped up, driven by all the force of his muscles, slamming into me.
It was ripping me apart, but I took it anyway. I opened wide for him, letting him abuse me. I might be injured from this, I thought, but fuck it. Fuck it all. "Harder," I grunted, "harder," and it wasn't all bravado. He was a plank of wood inside of me, a piston in a cylinder. And the pain, the humiliation, the fullness, was going to make me cum. He was crushing me, and I could barely breathe in his grip. I sucked in thin air, looking down over Seth's naked body. My roommate was slender, smooth, kind of beautiful in a way I'd never seen. I'd suck him again, if he wanted me to, I thought. Or let him fuck me. Ask him. Beg him. Beg anyone to fuck me like this again.
I reached back and stroked the hard muscles that bunched under Dave's legs, covered in fine, curled dark hair.
"Gonna fucking cum in your guts," he growled.
Now he sped up. I was numb to the pain. It was all pleasure now. I held my own cock, hardening in my hand. I knew not a lot of guys could get hard when they got fucked. But I could, apparently. He was fucking me so hard he was knocking into my bed, sliding it on its legs against the floor.
He lay me face down on the floor, inches from the dust bunnies. His body rose up and fell into me, muscles and gravity, pinning me to the floor. I couldn't play with my dick anymore like this, but didn't need to. I was already oozing, not quite an orgasm but something like one. A prostate orgasm, I thought. The waves of pleasure crawled over my body, a warm sensation cooled by his sweat.
"I'm cumming," he hissed, and then lay on me, his full weight crushing me. His cock pulsed inside of me, and he held it still. "Fuck, fuck, don't move, don't move," he said.
I clenched my asshole around his cock, and he moaned, a surprisingly high pitched whine. "Fuck, you faggot, look what you made me do."
He lay completely still on top of me, his weight pinning me down. I tried to reach back and touch him but he grabbed my hand and pinned it down. "Don't fucking move," he said. He lay like that, breathing slowly on top of me, until he softened, and then he pulled out and rolled over.
"Go clean up and come to bed," he said. He rearranged Seth, getting only a grunt from him. Then he lay down next to him.
"Yes, sir," I said. I got to my feet and felt dizzy. I had to steady myself on the bed for a second, and then made my way to the bathroom.
I could call someone, I thought again. The police.
And what would I tell them?
I stood in front of the toilet and touched my cock. I was hard again. They'd come over and see us like this, see me dripping cum from every opening. I licked some cum off my lips. And then maybe they'd take their turns. I knew that wasn't a realistic fantasy, but I let myself have it. I stroked my cock, just a couple times, before a shameful, unsatisfying orgasm tore through me, almost as hard as Dave had. My cum fell into the toilet, three spurts, like white ropes, or living things that sank to the bottle of the water. I sat and let his cum ooze out of me. I wiped my ass. A little blood. A little tender. But nothing terrible, I thought. I checked myself in the mirror. I looked okay. I felt okay, too, just a little sore. I wiped again, and the toilet paper came away clean.
I caught my eyes in the mirror. I looked small and weak and broken. There was a word for what had just happened, a bad word. But it didn't feel like the right word, not quite. I checked my ass again. Still clean. I let out a relieved breath.
I washed my face, squeezed a couple drops of cum out of my dick, licked it off my fingers which tasted of lube, sweet and sticky.
He'd already turned out the light. I climbed into bed with him and he put his arm around me and drew me up against his hard chest. I buried my face in it.
"When I transfer up here, I'm gonna make you my bitch," he said. His chest rumbled under me.
He palmed the back of my head and stroked my hair. "Good boy."
And I fell asleep, pressed between him and Seth, warm and comfortable and ashamed.