The Temptation Of A Roommate

"We're going to end up having sex," Gabe told me as he sat the box he was carrying down. His hair was tousled, his shirt unbuttoned enough to show a few chest hairs peeking through, and his jeans sagged revealing white boxers. I surveyed him for a second and wondered what he would look like naked. 

Pushing the dirty thoughts from my mind, I grinned at him. "I don't usually sleep with straight guys... unless I'm drunk." The joke earned a laugh from him as he turned on his heel and went to get another box from the car. 

His words confused me. While we had chatted for some time, he always indicated that he was into women, but never suggested that he was into guys. He must be joking, I thought. 

When he came back, the joke was forgotten. I helped him unpack and get everything in his room set up. The conversation was easy, and it seemed that we were at the beginning of a wonderful friendship. 

While he showered, I made us some dinner. I didn't hear him sneak up behind me, it was only when he wrapped his arms around my waist that I knew he was there. He nuzzled my neck and whispered, "you're a good wifey." 

"We're married now?" I shot back, unable to concentrate on anything but the hardness pressed against my butt. It turned out that he wasn't joking about us hooking up. 

But I still didn't understand what was going on.

Bonding Experiences

Over the next few days, the sexual innuendo calmed down but didn't stop. Every so often, Gabe would say something that indicated that he was expecting us to get together. 

During the day, I would work either at my job or on one of the freelance gigs I had. At night, we would watch TV together. Or I would watch him play video games. 

"Thanks for making dinner, wifey," he grinned at me from across the room. Something in his voice sent shivers of anticipation down my spine, "one of these nights, I will have to show you how grateful I am."

"What does that mean?" I asked, though I had an idea, since his hand was grabbing at his crotch. Later, he swore that he wasn't trying to be provocative, he just needed to adjust himself. 

We forewent our usual activities that night. Instead, we sat on the porch and shared anything that came to our minds. We exchanged stories about our childhoods, first loves, and more. 

Then the conversation turned to sex. His confession took me by surprise, "I haven't had sex in about a year. And the last time, I don't really count it, 'cause it was a half-hearted blow job and I fingered her until we both gave up." 

"Sounds kind of like my last time," I admitted. "I went out on a date a few months back, it ended with us getting hot and heavy in his car. Except we never made it past a hand job because he finished quickly." 

After that night, Gabe and I grew even closer. 

Temperatures Rise

The night we shared things was the first time we shared a bed. When I said good night to Gabe, he asked; "would you mind cuddling with me for a little while, please?" 

It was hard to say no to that, so I got ready for bed, but there was an issue; I generally don't wear clothes to bed. "Hey, this is awkward, but most of the time I don't wear pajamas." 

"Sleep nude, I don't care." With that, the issue was settled, and I crawled into bed with him. He preferred me to lay my head on his chest. In minutes, we were both sleeping. 

When I woke up the next morning, he was already in the shower. He made a pot of coffee, so I made a cup for myself and started to wonder what was going on. 

He came out with a towel wrapped around his waist, but it threatened to fall off and expose his naked body. "Good, you did get your coffee. I was worried that you wouldn't." 

"You're a good husband," I smiled at him. He laughed and went to his room. 

That night, I had to work late for an event at work. Gabe and I text most of the day. On a whim, I asked him if he would make dinner that night. 

"I have something very special for you," he text back. Then I noticed that I had another message. When I checked it, I was shocked by what I saw.

It was a picture of Gabe completely naked. And there were no complaints about what I was seeing, other than the fact that I had no idea who the number belonged to. 

Two Bodies Connect

When I got home, Gabe was waiting for me. He made pasta for dinner, and we sat down to eat. As I twirled the noodles around my fork, I told him about the picture that I got. After I took a bite of my food, I opened my phone and showed it to him. 

"Who would send me your dick?" I asked. Gabe shook his head in confusion. Then, feeling bad, "I mean, obviously, you're very attractive and all that, but I don't know who sent the pic." 

He just looked at me, but didn't say anything for a long while. Finally, he broke the silence, "maybe it was an ex of mine or something. I don't know..." 

After we finished eating, I cleaned up. Gabe went about setting up the TV so that we could watch our show. When I went to the living room, he took a look at me and suggested that I could go shower. 

The hot water felt good against my skin, I closed my eyes and let it take me away. It wasn't until I felt a finger probing my hole that I realized Gabe was in the shower with me, "I want to make sure you're nice and clean when I stick it in tonight." 

Before I could answer, he kissed my neck and pushed his finger deeper inside of me. His other hand began playing with my nipple. My knees began to give out with the sensations hitting me all at once. 

"Told you I would do something special for you tonight," Gabe said as I maneuvered and began giving him head. He turned the water off, and we got out of the shower. Once dried we dried off, our bodies came back together. 

He led me to my bed, threw me on it, and began eating my butt. Once I was moaning and screaming like a banshee, he lubed up and fucked me. 

We went three rounds that night, each time more intimate than the last. Promises of loving one another forever were made, declarations that each was the best ever were shared. 

But it didn't last. The one night was all Gabe and I shared together. Within weeks, he moved out. Every once in a while, we talk, but almost always avoiding the topic of the night we shared together.