OK so I moved in to number 13 two months ago. Lucky me I got the big room overlooking the back yard so it’s pretty quiet, apart from when Gina downstairs decides to rehearse for a show. Right I should back up. I’m Curt, I’m 32, I work in an opticians and I broke up with my boyfriend last year when I found out he’d been cheating on me with MY ex. Let’s not go there. It was messy, that’s all you need to know. Anyway, I ended up with my tail between my legs staying with my folks who were all like “We knew he wasn’t right for you, honey.” Well fuck thanks mum, you could’ve told me before I got engaged to him, got a dog and moved into a new build red brick home miles away from everyone I knew and loved.
Suffice to say, I didn’t take well to living back at home. I didn’t love my mum doing my washing again – particularly my underwear – and constantly asking what a Nasty Pig was. I didn’t love my dad judging me for watching Strictly. I didn’t love not being able to accom on Grindr! Yes my heart was broken but my cock certainly wasn’t, although my arsehole could be after spending six months on the rebound.
Something had to give, and despite me saying house-shares aren’t for me, I decided to give this a go. It’s a six-bedroom house (attic conversion) and there’s just me, Gina the tap dancer and Alan the nurse who’s in the front upstairs room. So, the queue for the bathroom isn’t hideous and everyone’s on different shifts so we’re like passing ships. It’s kinda cute. I’ve got fairy lights up in the room, a cracking view of the cats fighting in the alley and Gina’s got a thing for cherry scented candles that waft up through the floorboards every now and then. So it’s all kinda working. Weirdly they’ve struggled to fill the rest of the house since I moved in.
That is until Billy came along.
I’d just got home from the gym when I met him, being shown around by the landlord. I heard the accent first. Northern Irish, deep voice, two things I love – so I was instantly intrigued. Then I saw him coming down the stairs – in grey sweatpants so it was literally bulge first. And what a bulge. He was dressed to the right and I could clearly make out the meat – including a pretty thick head resting on his balls.
“Oh, Curt, hi this is Billy.”
The landlord’s over excited about everything, it’s sort of borderline sweet irritating. So he’s like clapping his hands and talking too loudly as he introduces this short, wiry skinhead with really blue eyes and tight firm body in his white t-shirt. Nipples on point. Literally.
“I’m in the front room,” Billy said, a little shy.
“Oh amazing, it gets really sunny at the front,” was my response, trying to keep my eyes north of his waistline.
“Billy’s moving in at the end of the week,” the landlord said. “Sure you’ll give him a warm welcome!”
“Absolutely! We’re a nice friendly bunch,” I said, almost mimicking the landlord’s singsong tone.
“Nice one,” Billy muttered with an awkward smile before he headed out.
I had to clock his arse on his way out and it didn’t disappoint. Small but round. Tight. I was getting straight vibes off him in the way he carried himself so I popped him into the wank bank and decided that’s all he was ever going to be. I don’t go down that straight curious road, I’ve seen too many friends get their heads fucked with and their hearts bruised for ignoring the red flags. So that was that. I anticipated seeing him come out of the bathroom in his boxers or dripping wet in a towel and that was more than enough. Well. Sort of.
He moved in on the Friday. I was out straight from work with the girls from the office. Straight-hell.com in all the 70s bars and even a Wetherspoons. I considered going to gay town on my own but when it came to the end of the night my spirit had been broken. The endless sounds of Ed Sheeran and Adele, not to mention being dragged up to dance whenever anything remotely gay came on, meant that all I had the willpower for was a kebab on the way home. The queue in the kebab shop was too long so I got myself in a drunken bad mood and threw myself into a taxi, meaning I was going home hungry. I staggered in, trying to keep the noise down and failing miserably as I decided the most important thing in the world at that point was to make myself a piece of toast. I clattered around the kitchen until my elbow caught a container full of cutlery and it hit the floor very noisily. Giggling to myself I knelt down to scoop everything up, and was in the middle of clearing up my mess when a pair of white socked feet appeared in front of me.
My eyes travelled up strong, hairy legs to a massive bulge in grey boxer briefs right in line with my face. Drunk as I was I still recognised that same massive bell end nestled in a juicy pair of balls. I followed a treasure trail of hair up his tight abs to his heaving pecs and pointed nipples and saw a tired but happy face staring down at me.
“Well if you are a burglar, you’re a pretty shite one,” he joked.
“I am so fucking sorry,” I replied, trying to pick up the last of the cutlery as he joined me, squatting down in front of me to scoop up the knives and forks.
“We’ve all been there mate, long as your night was worth the hangover!”
“No it was crap. Got dragged around a ton of straight bars.”
It was my not so subtle way of informing him I’m a big queer. He didn’t flinch, he just helped me to my feet.
“Nightmare,” he laughed. “Reckon you’re just about ready for bed.”
“Whose?”
It was out there before I could even think. He just laughed and patted me on the shoulder, backing off.
“Try not to trash the place, yeah?”
And he was gone, his tight bubble bum shaking as he went back to bed. I felt mortification begin to creep in. He’d lived in the house less than a day and I’d already pretty much come on to him. Halfway between convincing myself he’d move out tomorrow and preparing myself to face some sort of sexual harassment charge I passed out on my bed.
I woke the next day to a throbbing headache, the driest mouth this side of the Gobi desert and the repeated tapping of Gina rehearsing downstairs. The perfect storm to make me feel like absolute shit – and the icing on the cake was opening my bedroom door to the sight of Billy coming out of the bathroom in the much-anticipated towel, his body dripping with water.
“Hey how are ya?”
“I… yeah I…”
“Forget about it. Friday night. You’re allowed to get hammered.”
“No but… sorry I’m mortified, if I said anything-“
“You said nothing that made sense which is what I’d expect so it’s all gravy. Bathroom’s all yours. Hopefully you won’t be on your knees!”
I admired his choice of words as he headed off to the box room. I couldn’t resist a glimpse inside and was surprised to see it was immaculate – all his boxes and belongings in perfect order. Nothing like the organised chaos of my living space. Distracting myself from the throb in my head and the sick in my stomach, I ruminated on whether he had a military past or maybe even jail – I had an uncle once who went to jail and came out with the most OCD approach to his living quarters – but then the thought of him splayed on a prison bunk with his fat Irish tool in his hand brought on the hangover horn. I spent fifteen minutes in the shower cranking out a load from my own seven inches, watching the pearls of cum splatter the tiles before being washed away.
The wank put paid to the nausea of my hangover but I was still good for nothing most the day, trying to watch some shit on Netflix but dozing in and out of consciousness until a good four hour sleep claimed me. It was night-time when I finally woke up – and the smell was what hit me first. Pizza. Life-giving pizza! My stomach gurgled at the first whiff. I had to know where it was coming from! Opening the door I found a pizza box sat on the floor with a note scribbled on it. “RECKON YOU NEED THIS MORE THAN ME! B”
Gobsmacked, I opened it to find the last few slices of a meat feast waiting for me. Box room Billy was an absolute fucking legend! I ran to his bedroom door and hammered on it to thank him – but no response. It was locked. No sound inside. He’d obviously gone out. The pizza was cold so who knows how long ago he’d left it? Either way, priorities! I tucked into it and devoured it in the space of five minutes, marvelling at just how sweet and thoughtful this lad was! To be honest it was the first time a guy had looked out for me like that since it all went tits up with the ex. I swear I wasn’t, like, falling for him on the basis of a cold half eaten pizza. But I was starting to feel bad for objectifying him so much. There was obviously more to Billy than just a swinging big dick and tight abs. After polishing off the pizza I flipped the box over and wrote on it “YOU ARE A LIFE SAVER!” and sweated on whether to put a kiss on the end or not. I caved to my temptation – blame it on the remaining gin in my system, but I signed it with a big fat ‘X’ and left it at his door…
I didn’t see Billy until the Monday morning after. I’d had to spend time with the folks and the fag hags so was hardly home. But when I ran into him he was coming off the phone, clearly pissed off having been let down on ‘a job’. It prompted me to ask him what he did and he told me he was in a tarmac gang, but they were always fucking him round. Grunting that he needed a pint, he asked if I wanted to join him in the pub that’s literally two streets away. I don’t kid myself that I’m subtle in any way, so I jumped at the chance!
Over a couple of pints of Guinness he told me he was ex-army. No my eyes didn’t pop out of my head to the sound of ‘ding ding ding jackpot’, but I can’t deny that my arsehole twitched ever so slightly. Especially when he told me he’d just broke up with a girl. He joked that she was boring anyway, far too vanilla. I was intrigued.
“So… vanilla in bed or…?”
“Bed was the only place she’d fucking do it, mate, and always the same position. If I asked for a bit of doggie or a sneaky peg she looked at me like I’d just slapped her grandma!”
We both erupted in laughter, drawing looks from the three other people in the bar.
“I bet her grandma loves a slap,” I replied, and he howled with laughter.
If the ice had been more broken it would be slush. Funny how insinuating his ex’s grandma was a kinky bitch endeared me to him but there we go. The pub became a regular thing. We’d go there to bitch about our housemates, about work, about our exes. The more I chatted to him the more I became a little bit besotted with him. He was vulnerable, funny, soulful, but mostly I just wanted to get between his legs and worship him at any given opportunity.
The first one came up on Valentine’s night. Both of us were joking about being sad and single and went and got smashed at the pub. Back at the house, Gina was on tour with her tap troupe and Alan the nurse was on lates so we commandeered the shared living space, ordered pizza and had an anti-Valentines night watching horror movies. During one of the slashers there was a big-titted blond getting railed from behind just before she and her man met their grisly end. I noticed Billy fidgeting in his seat, fixing the bulge in his loose grey shorts. I instantly twitched to life at the sight of it, and decided to be brave, uttering…
“Lucky bitch.”
He scoffed, looked around at me and asked me, “What, that’s how you like it?”
“What can I say?” I replied. “Sometimes I just want some straight guy to rearrange my guts.”
“Jesus man.” He laughed, awkward.
“Sorry, too much? No more beer for me.” I pushed my bottle away, at which point he looked me in the eye, took the bottle and slid it back towards me.
“No,” he said. “It’s… it’s cool.”
He sat forward to get another drink and quite visibly pushed the log growing in his shorts to one side. We both howled and cringed as the girl and her boyfriend were skewered.
“Why do they always have to get sliced up after a shag!” he laughed.
“Punishment for having such a good time,” was my response. “It’s what the world wants to see!”
“Why though?”
“Cos we’re all so hung up on everything,” I joked. “We feel so guilty about just doing what feels good that we think we should pay for it. Like… when’s the last time you just thought ‘fuck it, this will make me feel good so I’m doing it, guilt-free!’
“Fucking never. Actually… Amsterdam.”
“Oh yeah? Lots of good stories start that way!”
“No I was on leave with some of the lads. Bunch of us squaddies let loose in the red light area, can you imagine?”
“I’m leaking at the thought.”
“Fuck off you slag!” he laughed, play-punching me in the arm. “But yeah we all went with a hooker each and I ended up with this trans girl.”
“Seriously? Did she have, y’know…”
“Well I told them she didn’t but yeah. She had a fucking dick.”
“Oh my god. And did you… y’know…”
“I fucked her up the arse.”
I immediately spat my beer out, my dick hardening in an instant.
“But while I was doing it I… ‘er… did a reach around.”
“A what?”
“Wanked her off. Or him. Or-“
“Her,” I said. “Go with her.”
“Yeah whatever but I wanked her cock til she came all over the bed.”
He laughed, fixing his crotch again. I could see the bulge was straining against the cotton. There was a weird stillness that fell over the room. An atmosphere, heat in the air.
“And… you liked it?”
“Liked it? Mate I shot my load so hard I thought I’d pass out.”
“That is so hot, can’t lie.”
“Yeah well try telling my Mrs that. It was before I even met her but I could never tell her something like that, I mean, she freaked out when I asked her to rim me!”
I slammed my bottle down on hearing that, my eyes wide, my lips wet with beer. “Wait. You… you asked her to eat your arse?”
“Yeah. See it on porn all the time, girls do it to fellas and it’s hot, right? It’s dirty.”
“Too right it’s hot,” I scoffed. “It’s my favourite thing to do.”
His eyes met mine. I swear I could hear his heart pounding in his chest but then it was probably my own. He gulped down more beer.
“Why?” he asked.
“Why what?”
“Well why do you like it so much?”
“Honestly?”
He nodded. I’d had four beers. My knob was pulsating in my pants with every little push I made with this conversation. So I thought, in for a penny.
“The smell,” I admitted.
He laughed, nervous.
“Seriously? You like the way a fella’s arse smells?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I mean… to a point. But… that smell you get, end of the day, it’s been hot, sweaty, you scratch your crack, your finger touches your hole and you have a sneaky smell of it, and it’s not shit but… y’know.”
He just nodded, silently.
“Well that’s what I like!” I continued. “Bet you’re sorry you asked now, aren’t you?”
“Kinda,” he joked, before tapping his hard-on.
By now there was a wet stain emerging in the grey shorts. He was precumming purely from the filth I was telling him.
“Maybe I should’ve got that hooker to rim me,” he said. “Missed my chance there.”
“Maybe not.”
“Ey?”
“Never too late to get your arse munched, Billy.”
I held his gaze, unsure of where this bravado was coming from. Looking back it was definitely the beer. He just laughed it off but I wasn’t letting it go. I edged closer to him.
“Seriously,” I went on. “If it feels good, why not? Lose the shorts and we could…”
I shakily reached over and placed my hand on his thigh. He didn’t budge. He didn’t breathe. And then suddenly he was moving away. My heart sank, my stomach did a somersault and I broke into an anxious sweat as Billy stood, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.
“I should hit the sack.”
“Shit Billy I-“
“It’s all good man. I’m just pooped. Night yeah?”
And he was off out the door, leaving me utterly horrified at how I’d behaved. Was I some pervert, some letch? Had I totally pushed myself on to someone and ruined a new friendship? But then I remembered the hard-on, the looks, him choosing to tell me he’d wanked a cock. I was a mass of anxiety, guilt and annoyance. And the fucking horror film was doing my head in so I knocked it off, left in silence. Just me and my whirling brain… until another sound caught my attention.
It was Billy’s voice. And he was calling from upstairs.
“Curt? Can you come up here a sec?”
Confused, I downed the last of my beer and headed upstairs wondering what the hell he was after now. I padded along the landing to the box room at the front where his bedroom door was open. And I was shocked when I realised what Billy was doing. I found him on his bed, face down, ass up, shorts in a pile on the floor next to him. His pert round arse was spread in front of me, smooth on the cheeks with a cleft of hair down the crack.
“It’s not gonna eat itself, mate.”
I couldn’t not laugh. His tone was the same as when we were sharing dirty jokes and stories in the pub. But I could see he was slowly tugging at his hard nine incher as he held his hole in the air and I knew he was deadly serious. I didn’t need asking twice. My own cock throbbing in my track suit bottoms, I moved forward into his room, climbed on to the bed and slowly stroked his cheeks. My hands trembled. His hot skin seemed to tingle under them. Slowly I leaned my head forward, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of his arse. The hairs held the richest aroma of manliness I’d experienced in a long time. A musty spice that came from being trapped between his mounds all day. I blew on the hairs and heard him sigh, knowing that what I was about to do was going to blow his mind.
I reached underneath and held his hot throbbing cock in my hand. It was gushing pre already. I thought I’d start him off with my favourite thing to do. I followed the vein down the underneath of his shaft to his bulbous – and I mean BIG – bell end, slathered it with my tongue, then traced my tongue right back up the vein, to his hairy ball sack, along his ripe taint and into the crevice where it met his winking hole. He was so vocal, moaning, laughing in delight as I repeated it, tasting his cock, balls and hole in one fell swoop. The taste of his hole didn’t disappoint. He was ripe as fuck – exactly how I like it. But the taste of sweat and butt juice and the remainders of a hasty fingering with the Radox shower gel was so hypnotic it dragged my tongue deeper into his chute.
Each moan he made coaxed my tongue deeper, slowly tugging on his cock and pumping more of his clear fuck juice out on to his duvet. I scooped up the puddle and rubbed it into his crack before slobbering my tongue in and out, up and down, side to side. I chewed his cheeks, spat on his shitter, spread those mounds wide and got him to pucker the hole out. When he did I locked my lips around his ring and sucked on it, sending him wild. As the hole flowered in my mouth I drove my tongue into its sweet centre, sucking and tongue fucking it at the same time.
He reached back and pushed my head further into his hairy trench. I couldn’t get enough of him, rubbing my face up and down with the sole intention of carrying his scent around for the rest of my life. Slowly I stroked his nine inches while I made out with his man cunt, wanting to get so deep my head was inside him.
“I’m so close!” he moaned.
“Not yet. Flip over.”
He quickly turned over and I realised it was the first time he’d looked at me while we were doing this. It was intense. His eyes were glazed over like he was on drugs, his face covered with the biggest smile. His nine inches hit me in the face, and I shifted so I was side on, coming down on the cock from an angle so it would slide all the way down my throat. I went down to the balls slowly, coughing up some beer as I went. But he didn’t mind the mess, pushing my head down and groaning in sheer delight that I could throat his python.
“Fucking hell man!”
I just gave a grunt of agreement then pulled off his cock, a string of throat slime hanging between us. “Yes,” I said. “I am that good.” We laughed in unison before I went up and down on that cock with gusto. He wasn’t laughing now, he was moaning in abandon, head thrown back, body twitching under me. It was messy, sloppy, noisy, his balls covered in my throat slime which I rubbed into his hole. He took the hint, hooked his hands under his knees and rolled back so I could keep eating his sweet man snatch whilst slipping and sliding all over that monster cock of his.
My own cock was straining in my track suit bottoms and I was positioned so it was up near his chest. As I tongued his hole I felt his hand slide inside my bottoms and starts to tug furiously at my own prick. I was so wet and he was so slicked up the room filled with the sound of squelching as we worked each other into a frenzy. He gripped my shaft and slid it between his own lips and I could have blown my load right there just to think this straight Irish ex squaddie was sucking on my knob end.
I pulled away.
“Sorry was it my teeth?”
“No I don’t wanna cum yet!” I laughed.
“Mate I need to blow!” he groaned.
“OK. Do it inside me,” was my response.
With that I leaned forward, yanking my trousers off and spreading my own pert white arse.
“Seriously? You want me to fuck you? My girl could never take this up her arse.”
“Just shut up and rearrange my guts, Billy.”
He laughed, slapping my arse in a locker room horseplay fashion that was possibly the most heterosexual thing I’d ever felt. Needless to say it made my dick pour with precum.
“Wait, we’ll need lube,” I said.
I was about to get up and go get it when I felt the first swipe of something hot and wet on my sphincter. Billy was eating my hole! I groaned in delight as he followed my lead and started to tongue punch my anus. I’m smoother than him which probably helped him treat it like a pussy. But he got stuck in like a pro. The tongue went deep, he spat all over the crack and slid his fingers in, eliciting moans from me that made him stop to make sure I was okay. I was more than okay. Between his precum and mine, there was enough lube for him to position that meaty mammoth of a head at my pucker.
“Slow,” I uttered.
“Okay baby,” he said. “I’ll be gentle.”
BABY. He called me fucking baby and I nearly died. High on the tone of his voice, it was like I’d huffed poppers as my hole gaped for him. As the knob pushed past my ring I felt my entire arse stretch. His nine inches were taking their sweet time filling my cunt and the pressure was sending pre pissing out of my tool all over his bed. I released a long non-stop groan as he went in to the balls, crying out in pleasure as my anal walls gave him the BJ of his life.
“Fuck me Billy.”
And he did. Gripping my hips he drove that shaft deep into my guts, easily breaking through my second ring and making my whole body shake. I held on to the bedding as he pumped me hard. We worked up a sweat together, the drips from his nose hitting my back as he yanked me by the hair and pulled me back into his arms.
HE CALLED ME BABY!
That’s all I could think as I rode on that flesh tube, milking that dick in a way I knew no girl ever had. His eyes were rolling back in his head, he was suddenly silent and I knew there wasn’t long left until he flooded my guts with his seed. We bounced together on the bed, wet flesh slapping wet flesh, grunts, squelches, sighs. A cacophony of sex noise as he started to say the same word over and over.
“Jeez. Jeez. Jeez. JEEEEEZ.”
I laughed in delight as I felt him spasm inside me, reaching around and jerking my cock as he unloaded those straight Irish balls deep inside my chasm. His hand slowed on my cock and I warned him not to stop. Suddenly he was wanking me fast and hard until I felt those tingles in my toes and my balls and I lost my load all over his bed.
I pulled off his cock and let the cum flow from my hole all over his balls as he groaned in delight.
“Wow that’s a lot of cum,” he sighed.
“Fuckkkk,” I moaned as he scooped it up and fed it to me, before rubbing it in my face like a naughty older brother.
We both fell into fits of laughter, any awkwardness completely out the window as he pushed me down on the bed, looked me in the eyes and said “You dirty little fucker.”
I went to kiss him but he pulled away, scratched his balls and asked if there was any pizza left. There was. Just the one slice… but we shared it. And at one point he even fed some to me. I’m not kidding. I don’t know where this is going but right now I don’t give a shit. He called me baby and he bred me until I couldn’t stop shitting cum. This could be love!
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