My New Roommate - Part 9

Damien was killing me.
The whole day he’d been teasing without ever admitting it. Letting the towel hang too low when he got out of the shower, brushing past me in the hallway so close his bare chest grazed my arm, leaning over me in the kitchen like it was nothing.

And then—he talked.
“You know, Owen… it’s nice living with someone who understands how it feels to be a guy in his twenties,” he said while sipping water, eyes wide, almost innocent. “All the hormones… the need to release. Most people wouldn’t get it. But you do.”

I nearly lost it. My cock twitched in my shorts just from those words. He was acting all soft, all grateful—but I could see it. That flicker of a smirk, sharp as a knife. The mask slipping just enough to make me ache.

And then he added, so casual it nearly killed me:
“You make me feel comfortable, you know? Comfortable enough that I think I’ll sleep naked tonight. You don’t mind, right?”
That smirk. For a second it was pure evil, then it vanished back into the boyish charm.

I knew it. Tonight, I was fucked.

When we got into bed, Damien actually did it. Stripped everything—shirt, boxers, socks—and slid under the blanket like it was nothing. I could feel his bare skin brush mine. I couldn’t even breathe. My cock was hard instantly, throbbing in my shorts like it wanted to tear free.

Minutes ticked by. I thought maybe I’d calm down. Maybe he’d just sleep.
Then I heard it.

The change in his breathing. A tiny hum, broken sighs. I turned slightly—my heart exploding in my chest.
His hand. Around his cock. Stroking slow. The blanket slid low enough to show me everything: thick, hard, glistening in the dark.

I almost moaned. I bit my fist instead.

“Damien…” I whispered.
He froze. Looked at me with those innocent eyes, lips twitching.
“I’m just trying to sleep.”
“You’re— you’re jerking off!” I hissed, desperate.
He chuckled, low and cruel. “So what? You like watching, don’t you?”

God, I did. I hated how true it was. My cock hurt inside my shorts.

“Please,” I begged. My voice cracked. “Please, you know what you’re doing to me.”

He sat up, slow, cock bouncing heavy in the dim light. His smirk was pure poison.
“You’re right,” he said softly. “I’m punishing you.”
“Punishing me for what?”
“For being an obsessed little pervert.”

My stomach twisted. My throat was dry. And still, I wanted him so fucking bad.
“I’ll do anything,” I whispered, pathetic.

His eyes burned. “Then follow my orders. Clothes. Off. Hands in the air.”

I ripped my shirt over my head, kicked my shorts off, yanked down my underwear. Everything hit the floor. My cock slapped up against my stomach, flushed, leaking. I raised my hands above me like I was surrendering.

He stroked himself, slow and deliberate, standing over me. “Look at you,” he muttered. “Pathetic. Desperate. Begging just to watch.”

My hips jerked involuntarily, trying to grind against nothing. I reached down—instinct—but his sharp voice cut through:
“Don’t even think about it.”
I froze, whining in my throat like some animal.

Then he leaned over, grabbed my jaw, and shoved his cock against my lips.
“Suck it.”

I opened my mouth instantly. Hot, thick flesh filled me, precum spilling onto my tongue. The taste was salty, musky, addictive. I moaned around him, drool sliding down my chin. My cock was throbbing so hard I thought I’d explode untouched.

“Mmm… good boy,” Damien groaned, thrusting shallowly into my mouth. “Enjoy your reward. That’s all you get until I say.”

I would’ve stayed like that forever. The taste of him, the weight of him on my tongue, the heat spreading through my chest.

But then he pulled out, strands of spit hanging between us. My lips were wet, my mouth aching for more.

“You get thirty seconds,” he said. “Touch yourself. Go.”

I nearly cried with relief, grabbing my cock and stroking like I was starving. I groaned, eyes locked on Damien’s body—his smirk, his cock still hard and dripping in front of me. I was close, so close.

“Time’s up.”

He yanked his clothes back on like nothing happened. A shirt. Shorts. Then he slipped under the blanket, turning his back to me. When he spoke again, his voice was back to that fake sweetness.
“Goodnight :)”

I lay there wrecked. My cock angry and red, my chest heaving, Damien’s taste still burning on my tongue. I wanted to scream. Instead I just stared at the ceiling, every nerve in my body begging for more, knowing he’d made me his plaything completely.