The Battle of The Roommates

All characters are 18+

The beginning of college was supposed to be the beginning of the rest of my life. I'd moved across the country for it, and I was eager to finally get a taste of the freedoms of adulthood. I desperately wondered if the cliches and stereotypes were true. Did frat boys run the campus? Were there hot cheerleaders at every corner? My mind was filled with excitement on that first day, and then I met Brandt.

Yes, the stereotypes were true, and Brandt was a perfect example of that. Chestnut hair that fell across his forehead. Large blue eyes that seemed to constantly be plotting. A white smile, with dimples either side, and his body; like something painted by an artist.

He played some type of sport that I didn't ask about, and when he walked into the dorm room with a bag over his shoulder and a smug grin on his face, I knew immediately that I'd met my match.

Back in high school, I was the guy that people drooled over. I'd been playing football for years, and I wasn't a bad looking dude by any stretch of the imagination. Part of me expected to walk into campus and instantly find my place at the top of the hierarchy, but Brandt made it pretty clear that there was only one man in our dorm room.

"What's your name?" He asked, with an icy cold tone that made me gulp discreetly.

"Cole"

"Brandt".

We shook hands, and as we stood there eyeing each other cautiously, Brandt let out a short, sharp scoff, and I clenched my jaw.

Perhaps it was a macho thing. We were both eighteen year old guys. We were both used to popularity, both confident, charismatic, and cool, and both vying for the title of the alpha male of the dorm room. Neither of us alluded to that fact, of course, but we both knew that the other person was thinking it.

In the days that followed our arrival, Brandt and I barely spoke. He left early every morning to practice, and I returned late every night for the same reason. When we'd pass each other by in the corridors, we'd act like we were total strangers to each other, and the only time we ever spoke was when we had no choice but to.

"Stop leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor" he told me one night, as he lay in bed with the lights off and I undressed for bed.

"Why, did you hurt your lickle feet?" I replied sharply, smirking in the darkness.

"How about I ram my lickle foot up your ass?" He snapped, jumping from the bed as though he'd been waiting for the opportunity all week.

He wasn't a small guy. In fact, Brandt had about three or four inches on me in height, and was at least fifty pounds heavier. He pushed his forehead against mine, and I used every muscle in my body to remain on my feet as he snarled.

"Don't fuck with me, Cole" he warned, flexing his underwear clad body, "you won't win".

"Is that right?" I growled back, eager not to let him hear the nervousness in my voice.

"You wanna try it?"

I knew I needed to shut up, but my ego refused to back down. I shoved him backwards, he shoved me backwards, and the two of us glared at each other once more.

"You think you're a tough guy?" He asked, his grin returning, "huh? You think you're something?"

"You're the one getting pissed over a fucking towel" I reminded him, back peddling slightly to avoid a broken nose.

He shook his head slowly and laughed to himself before returning to his bed, and quietly, I let out a sigh of relief.

"You just wait" he mumbled, dragging the blanket over his broad shoulders, "you just wait".

I didn't give Brandt too much thought after that. He was a typical jock asshole, and I wasn't about to let him push me around, regardless of how worried I'd been that night. I decided that instead of backing down, I'd simply ignore him, and that worked quite well, for a week or two.

I knew he'd been in a long term relationship before coming here because I'd heard him on the phone to his friends back home a few times. Apparently that had ended right before he left, and single life was, in his words, making him 'hungry for pussy'.

When I returned from training late on Thursday evening, I couldn't have imagined the sight that I'd come back to. I pushed inside, dropped my bag and walked toward my bed like I always did, and then I turned to see Brandt lying there, his boxer briefs wrapped around his ankles and his t-shirt pulled up over the back of his neck. He stared at me with a look of sadistic joy as he pumped his huge, wet cock with his hand, and rather than scurry to hide himself, he simply continued.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I snapped, shielding the view with my hand, and listening as his hand squelched up and down. "Are you fucking drunk or something?"

Brandt didn't answer me. He beat his fat cock even faster, causing his heavy ball to bounce with each wet stroke.

"Dude!? What the fuck is your problem?!" I barked, cringing as he continued, "can you fucking stop?!"

"Ugh fuck!" He grunted, and I don't know why, but I dropped my hand and watched as my roommate unleashed countless spurts of thick sperm down his chiselled chest, over and over again, until the stuff trailed down his abs and poured down his sides.

He lay there breathless for a moment, his softening cock still in his fist as he squeezed out the remnants of cum from his plum sized cock head, and then shook his hand out. He didn't say a word as he began mopping the stuff up with a sock, and when he was done, he got to his feet, pulled off his t-shirt completely, and strolled casually into the bathroom. I stood there gawping at the spot where he'd been laying, and found myself utterly lost for words.

I considered reporting him and demanding a room change. I considered confronting him, and possibly finding myself in a physical altercation with the guy, and then I considered something even better, and when Brandt returned naked to the room, with his meaty cock swaying between his muscular legs, I turned over and went to sleep.

I'd met enough assholes in my life to know what he was trying to do. Brandt had turned this into a war, and if he wanted a battle, then I was going to give him one. Perhaps he expected his show of manly strength to intimidate me, but two could play at that game.

By the time he woke the next morning, I was already pumping iron at the end of the bed. He stared up at me groggily, before his eyes fell further down my body, and now he was staring at my cock.

I wasn't a small guy downstairs. Eight inches of pure, thick fuck meat, and I'd never been one for modesty. I guessed we were a similar size in that department, but that wasn't going to stop me from showing off, especially after his fiasco the previous night.

He opened his mouth to talk, until he realised what I was doing as I crunched the dumbbells up to my shoulders and stared into his soul. He stopped, scoffed and left shortly after.

Yes, it was absurd. Not only was it absurd, but it was borderline gay. I don't know what it was about him, but something was making me violently desperate to one up him. I wanted to be the man, not some jumped up, beefy, brute of a guy. Seeing him jerk off the previous night, with not a care in the world as he tried to intimidate me hadn't just made me angry, it had made me eager.

When training was finished that night, I was almost nervous to return to the dorm. I fully expected Brandt to be jerking off again, and I had no idea how I was going to keep topping that. I stepped into the dimly lit room, my eyes peeled for movement, and then I saw it.

The blanket was draped over him, though he wasn't lying down. It almost looked like he was hunched over on the bed, thrusting hard as the bed frame squeaked underneath and he let out grunts and groans.

He turned his head and stared at me. His face was sweaty and red, and I watched as his smarmy grin appeared again, and then a second head appeared, and my eyes widened.

"What the fuck are you doing, creep!?" A young blonde woman yelped, and Brandt acted equally surprised.

"Yeah, get out of here, perv!" He snapped, as the woman jumped up, covering her breasts with her arms and scrambling to get dressed.

"Call me later, babe" he said as she hurried from the room.

"You're a real piece of shit, you know that, Brandt?" I hissed, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

He flopped down onto his back and kicked the blanket off his naked body. He was already hard, and I wasn't even bothered anymore. He grabbed it, began stroking it slowly, and then lifted his hand to his face and inhaled deeply.

"I love the smell of pussy" he sighed, "you'll understand someday".

I wanted to lash out at him and deny the sharp accusation, but he was correct. As popular as I had been back in high school, I'd never gotten around to actually doing the deed. Of course, I'd told everyone that I had, but it was a lie.

I crawled into bed as Brandt orgasmed a few feet away, and just like last night, he wiped himself up with his sock, and walked into the shower naked. Damn, I fucking hated that guy.

As the days turned to weeks, the competition to be the one true man of the dorm room became so heated that we rarely wore clothes anymore. I have no idea how it happened, nor did I care to think about it. Yes, it was ridiculous, and yes, it was pathetic, but every time Brandt did something bizarre, I had to get one over on him.

When Brandt jerked off, I jerked off. When Brandt purposely bent over in front of me, allowing his large, beefy ass cheeks to spread apart to reveal his dark, hairy asshole, I had to do the same. When Brandt began pissing with the door open, rubbing his dick and balls across my pillow, using my underwear as a cum rag, and doing all that other stuff that my innocent ass couldn't make sense of, so did I, and then one day it hit me and I felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.

"You're fucking gay" I said, rather than asked, and watched as Brandt turned around, his long cock gliding through the air, and began to clap slowly.

"Finally the penny has dropped" he smirked, "and you've been falling for it from day one". He shook his head in disbelief, and I rubbed my face.

All this time Brandt had been fucking with me. He wanted to see me do all that shit. He wanted to watch me workout naked, jerk off, cum on his fucking bed. It had all been part of his plan, and I was too fucking blind to see it.

"You've gotten this far" he told me, and now I was more aware of my nudity than I had been since the first day I let him see my cock. "Might as well accept the fact that I win".

"What's that meant to mean?" I scowled, feeling my cheeks burn.

Brandt shrugged nonchalantly and began to squeeze his manhood as he watched me squirm. "I'm just saying" he smiled, "you've been teasing me with that sexy little body for weeks, and I think it's about time I take it".

"Try it" I snapped, jumping to my feet, finally ready to beat this guy's ass.

I clenched my fists and my eyes burned into him as we stood feet apart, both as naked as each other. He was hard now, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was what was about to happen. It was time to finally put an end to this. Time to finally teach this douchebag a lesson. Time to finally... Kiss?

His mouth pressed against mine. His full, plump lips moved quickly, forcing my ones open as his large tongue drove into me. For a moment, I felt like I'd been hit in the head with a bat. I stood there, naked and shocked, but even when my senses returned to me, and I knew what was happening, I remained frozen in place.

He tasted of mint. The scent of his perspiration added to the cloud that was slowly enveloping me, and although this was not what I had planned, I found myself unable to break away.

His hands were stronger, yet far softer than I had expected them to be. They clutched my head, one either side, holding me in place as the kiss became even more aggressive. His chest touched mine, pressing hard against me, reminding me of his sheer strength. And then his rod, still wet, dug into my own one.

A minute, maybe more. That's how long I stood there and allowed Brandt to have his way with me. It felt like fireworks had been let off inside my skull, and each one exploded with confusion as our naked, chiselled bodies became so entwined that I could feel his streaks of pre-cum trail across my groin.

When the kiss finally ended, Brandt stayed in place and moved his hands slowly down my arms until he held my wrists. I watched with glassy eyes, as he led my hands to his waist, and further again to the cheeks of his ass.

He returned his hand to the back of my neck, and I felt the pressure in his touch as he began to guide me to my knees. I could have stopped him. I could have punched him. I could have done a whole lot of different things, but I didn't. I allowed him to move me, as though he'd put me under a spell, and as I sat on the edge of my bed and inhaled the warm stench of Brandt's thick cock, I felt myself swell.

It was like he'd turned me into a zombie. Despite our rampant nudity over the last number of weeks, this was not something I had ever expected or considered. As far as I knew, I wasn't gay, and if that was the case, then why was I so ravenously turned on by the sight of Brandt's dripping cock so close to my face?

No words needed to be said. He held the base of his member and aimed the slippery, glistening head in my direction. I studied it before I made a decision. It was admittedly, a very nice cock. It angled to the left slightly, and had one single dark vein running down the underside of the shaft. I decided, without actually deciding, that I was willing to see where this went.

I felt a string of his pre-cum link my lips to his cock head. Timidly, I tasted it, and felt a spark of excitement in my mouth as the saltiness of his fluids spread across my tongue. He took control quickly, gliding himself deeper into me, filling me with his meat, holding me with his hands. I gagged, he quickened.

My mouth stretched wide around his shaft. His helmet rubbed against the back of my throat, and almost as though I'd been born to suck cock, I swallowed him, and he added another three of four inches down my neck.

My eyes streamed, though I wasn't unhappy. He fucked my face with force, and I mindlessly stroked my own cock as he did. I still wasn't sure if I was fully aware of the reality of the situation, but in that moment, I didn't care to be.

This was my first taste of sex. Brandt was using my throat like a toy, and despite the battle that had been raging for weeks, I was happy to finally raise the white flag and surrender to this violently hot young man whom I had no idea that I was in love with.

The tension had turned sexual early on. Perhaps deep down inside, I knew that. Perhaps I'd always known. Now it was proven, and now I'd given Brandt exactly what he'd wanted. Maybe I'd given myself exactly what I'd wanted, too.

My mouth overflowed with cum. There was no warning, he simply spewed his load into my throat and kept his cock in place as it twitched and expanded, and his seed drowned me internally. I gulped it down because that's what I wanted to do, and then his delicious, salty sperm poured into my stomach, I sat back and stared at him.

"I'm glad that's finally settled" Brandt said, playing with his cock as I wiped my mouth on the back of my arm, "I was beginning to think I'd never get you on this dick".

I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything. I was drained, confused, happy, excited, worried, and every other possible emotion.

"At least you know your place now, Cole" he continued, and used his thumb to mop up a trail of cum that was running down my chin. He gathered it up and slid it slowly back into my mouth. "You're mine".