Stress Fucking my Roommate Ch. 04

"FUCK!"

No idea who started it, but that's the first thing that happened every morning. Alarm starts beeping and either me or my roommate swears at the ceiling. We take turns since our schedules alternate.

Honestly, it's a great way to wake up. Try it sometime. Spit into the face of every brand new day and rage; rage unto the coming of the light. It'll help you manage just enough energy to persevere out of spite.

Because we were... not doing okay. At least, I wasn't. Early mornings and late nights every night without fail fucking over all the bullshit dreams a big, bright, collegiate future promised. We were both on scholarship and all the great expectations that entailed. We were also both poor which was why we were in the shitty old dorm with no a/c. Fucking up wasn't an option, not for either of us.

Fucking each other, unexpectedly *was*.

We'd been going at it like desperately horny teenagers all night because that's 1000% what we were. It was rough, unromantic, and fucking desperate. Not to mention brief, frequent, and so goddamn clumsy.

In the middle of another single mattress samba, my roommate was on top of me, trying and failing to get my dick up his butt. Even perched awkwardly trying to ease the tip of my cock into his lotioned ass, the motherfucker still managed some kind of poise.

He had the sort of looks to play the hero. Not a hearthrob or magnificent bastard, but like the better version of anybody and everybody. Almost hairless that didn't quite look like obsessive competitive swimmer shaving or bikini waxed at the aesthetician. All around fit and trim but not muscled like a particular sport or putting time in the weight room. Son of a bitch was into aerobics, if you'd believe that. Sweating to P90X, Buns of Insanity, Jazzercise with Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. Said it was for the chicks, my cock pressing on his asshole notwithstanding.

"Goddamnit, dude, your dick's so fucking big. My eyes might have been bigger than my asshole on this one."

*... your dick's so fucking big.* I'd be riding the high of that ego stroker for ages. But any more teasing and I'd just flip him over and ride his six-by-six framing timber again.

You don't get to pick your talents and, instead of something useful, I was apparently a natural at butt stuff. At least by comparison. Sure, I'd had a couple false starts, but nothing even close to biting the pillow. After the first couple goes, I could take it with barely a warning finger or two.

Roomie was on the struggle bus. Pushing and prodding at his extremely lotioned asshole from different angles while he complained my dick wouldn't fit hadn't been working. Then his alarm went off.

"FUCK!"

And so the morning tradition continued. Just this time it involved hopping around clutching at a cock-shocked anus. I mean, that'll wake you up in a fucking hurry, too. Wouldn't recommend it, though.

The beeping alarm clock had startled him when he was still playing just the tip and I had suddenly given him my entire, achingly teased member up his very unprepared backdoor in one fell swoop.

It was a whole swearing interpretive dance performance atound the dorm room exploring the emotional space of a strained sphincter. That go around, I got to be the dumbass left with his dick in the wind while my roommate dashed to the bathroom. Then he just put those doofy-ass stretched out black sweatpants back on to run out to class.

Left painfully hard on his bed, I cranked one out. Call it a lifetime of sneaking around to wank, but I was quiet, quick, and clean. Roomie moaned, shook, swore, and just fucking came *everywhere*. I'm opening a lot of new boxes, so why not cumming like I don't have somewhere to be? Just came all over his bare institutional single mattress, too. It's what we'd been doing all night.

Fuck me if that isn't a better way to start the day. Literally, because that was how it would go and I fucking loved it. Even left teased, turgid, and tuckered the fuck out from *experimenting* every couple hours the whole night through, I'd still take it. Any which way you want me, that beats the hell out of how I'd been enduring existence.

I wish I could go back and slap some sense into eighteen-year-old, freshman, undergrad me. I thought I was so goddamn clever back then. Like I could just burn myself on the altars of expectation and walk away perfect.

Because, dunno if you know this, but that's fucking hubris, my guy. All this bullshit that you're just tougher than the rest, or smarter, or notice more, or work harder, or have that little knack for finding the way to fuck up the system just a bit in your favor? Yeah, look at yourself, look at where you are, look at me, now stop being such a martyred piece of shit and unfuck.

But I didn't. I'd dove headlong into hell explaining it was all okay, because I didn't burn easy. Take everything on, do it all, take every offhand harebrained bit of advice about your future and do it. Extra classes, special programs, keep up a part time job, mediocre efforts are pointless, take every opportunity, and never fail you beautiful motherfucker.

Looking back, living like that, I would have clusterfucked into a shrub of a human being if me and my roommate hadn't been going at it like rabbits any chance we got. I didn't know for sure if he was going through the same thing. But, from the first time we'd met, I'd seen the same hollowed out bastard carrying around the same brand of smiling cardboard cutout of a functioning human being I walked around with.

Here's the crazy thing, too: that first morning trying to screw each other was the last time either of us started the day yelling *fuck*.