Peter leaves after his shower. Off to do who knows what.
I, however, feel like all I can manage is crawling into my bed for the next month. I wash the cum off of myself and crawl into bed feeling just as disgusting.
I can’t sleep though. I toss and turn wondering what the fuck is up with me. I’m a brilliant guy, tough, and naturally good at everything I do. Why am I fooling around with my obnoxious roommate?!
And why do I like it so much??
Nothing has ever made me melt as much as his dark, steely eyes. His hands grabbing my face.
I’m a horny piece of shit.
I wake up the next morning with a raging hard-on. Probably from dreaming of Peter all night. Dreaming of him climbing in bed with me and treating me like the dirty whore I apparently am.
I groan and force myself to get out of bed and into clean clothes. If I don’t force myself out the door, I’ll lay in bed feeling like shit all day. Might as well feel like shit and get some homework done at the same time.
The sun is way too bright and the birds are way too chipper as I walk to the dining hall for some breakfast. It’s like the universe didn’t get the message that I’m in the middle of an identity crisis. How rude.
Mike meets me at the dining hall and we mostly sit in silence until we finish our first cups of coffee and plates of omelets. He’s been staring at me, waiting for me to offer up some sort of explanation.
He bahis şirketleri cuts into the silence, “So what happened last night?”
I flop my head into my hands. “It happened again.” Mike just raises his eyebrows at me. Not looking at all surprised, this time. “It was even better, actually…. I’ve never had sex like that before,” I say.
“Well damn… should I be happy for you?”
I laugh, “I don’t think so. I think this is just becoming a giant mess.”
Admitting that sends my thoughts into a spiral. “Why can’t I just think through my actions the tiniest bit? Why does he have to be my roommate? What have I gotten myself into?” I wonder.
“Well if it’s good, maybe it’s good?” Mike offers, verbalizing the tiny bit of hope I have been holding in the pit of my stomach. I just nod my head, looking away.
“I just have no idea where we stand. He hasn’t said much other than “I’m going to cum in your throat”.”
Mike closes his eyes at that comment, shaking his head, not sure if he should laugh or yell at me. I guess he feels bad because he doesn’t do either.
“Why don’t you just talk to him?”
“Yeah… maybe,” I respond, standing up to get some more bacon and coffee. My most favorite of comfort foods.
I spend most of the day in the library, catching up on homework. When I finally make it back to the dorm, which I wasn’t purposely delaying at all…. Peter’s at his desk working bahis firmaları on something. I mill about for a few minutes, but eventually, I can’t hold it in any longer.
“Hey, what has been going on the past few days?” I ask, sitting down on my bed.
Peter turns his chair around. “What do you mean?”
I roll my eyes and tilt my head, glaring at him.
“The blowjobs? I didn’t think that was rocket science… they were blowjobs… it was hot.” He answers. Clearly confused why I would ever ask such a question.
“Okay well, I’m not into it.”
“You’re what?” He laughs.
I just stare at him, my face as blank and firm as I can muster.
“I’m pretty sure you were into it.”
“I’m not into sex like that.” I shake my head, trying to choose my words carefully. My skin is red hot and all I want to do is sprint away from this conversation. “I’m not a sex toy,” is all I can think to say.
Peter snorts. “Yeah okay.”
I want to vomit by this point, so I mutter a “good talk” and race back out the door. I don’t have anything else to do, anywhere to go, but I couldn’t sit in there.
I wind up lying on a bench in the center of campus, watching the stars to distract myself from what’s going on in my head.
In typical Sunday night fashion, the campus is pretty empty. Just a few people are walking out of the library, but mostly I’m alone with my thoughts. Thoughts that can’t seem to stay on kaçak bahis siteleri the constellations above me because all I can think about is Peter.
Peter and his strong back. And the smirk he gave me when I said I wasn’t a sex toy.
How is it that he seemingly knows more about me than I know about myself? It’s like he looked at me one day and saw something I never noticed before.
And I’m not sure that I like someone being able to see through me like that.
I left after our encounter last night to get some air for a few hours, and I left again early this morning so that I wouldn’t have to talk to Conner when he woke up.
I couldn’t look at his sweet face, all twisted up and confused when I felt the same way inside.
The blowjobs were hot- objectively- and I’m positive the sex would be hotter. That part is simple for me. Every time I look at him, since we moved in, all I’ve wanted to do is bend him over and fuck his brains out.
But it’s the gooey-melty feeling I get in my stomach when I look into his eyes that I don’t know what to do with.
I thought I could just fuck him and move on. It wouldn’t be a big deal. Bros being bros, or whatever.
But now I can’t get enough, and that is scaring the shit out of me.
Ever since he came home today and looked at me, all blue-eyed and bleary, with that bullshit speech about not being “into it”, my stomach has felt like there’s a pile of molten lava sloshing around.
I’ve been laying on my bed, trying to figure out what to do, since he left. I think, again, about how he felt under my last night, and I pull out my phone to text him.