BRUTALLY Fucked By My Straight Roommate: Another Level Of Bromance_(1)

Kareem is a 22-year-old college student. He has sort of a pretty-boy face; he keeps his facial hair lined up very smoothly. He’s about 5 feet, 10 inches tall, with a slight build, and his skin is the color of lightly creamed coffee. Kareem has long since his teenage years accepted that he’s gay, but he isn’t the “faggot” type of gay that walks and talks funny and wears girly clothes. He’s just a thuggish type of guy who really loves the cock; a “trade,” so to speak. Well, in his junior year of college, he’s in for way more than he anticipated when he develops a man-crush on his wigger roommate…


Kareem’s POV:

I was a little nervous at the start of the school year when I met my new roommate; this crazy-looking white boy named Chris. He’s 25 years old and taller than me, about 6 foot 4, and has this really rough look about him. I guess my best comparison is that he looks like the type of nigga that goes out every other night and comes home wasted and beats up his wife. With his buzzed haircut, his torso covered in tattoos, his icy, dark blue-gray eyes, and his slender but muscular stature, I won’t lie, he scared me at first, especially seeing as how he had just gotten out of prison; he did three years on some drug-related shit. But after I got to know him within the first couple of weeks of school, he turned out to be a really cool dude. He might look rough, but he’s really laid-back and chill, and loves to toke up that dank ass weed every day. He wasn’t selfish; he always shared with me, and we’d get high as fuck and watch funny movies, just like any bros would.

As time went on though, I started getting uncomfortable around Chris. He didn’t know I was gay (I had my orientation hidden from my Facebook page), and he didn’t know that I was becoming more and more attracted to him by the day. I have a thing for niggas with the bad-boy look that Chris naturally had. I knew damn well that he was straight, and I was scared that if he suspected anything he’d beat me within an inch of my life. So I tried my best to keep my lust on the down-low. I’d wear shades in our apartment whenever he walked around shirtless so he wouldn’t notice me staring at his body. I’d wear cups so he wouldn’t notice my dick getting hard. Luckily, he didn’t notice anything. Or so I thought…


Chris’s POV:

A couple of weeks before midterms, I got back to the apartment one evening. I was about to go grab my bong and smoke up, but then I heard my name come from my nigga Kareem’s door. He was on the phone talking to someone, I don’t know who, but out of curiosity, I snuck over to the door and listened…

“My nigga, it’s good that this dude Chris can’t read minds, cuz if he could, I’d be in trouble… You wanna know the dream I had about him a few weeks ago?… Man, I dreamed that I was his new cellmate in prison, and he… he… he made me his bitch. He was smacking me around, beating me up, and then he started raping me, harder and harder until I couldn’t take it no more… and I woke up and I thought I’d pissed myself, then I realized it was nut… Yeah my nigga, I had a wet dream about that nigga Chris fucking me like a prison bitch… I know he’d never do it, cuz he likes women, but damn I keep having fantasies about him every time I beat my meat… He’s too damn sexy… if I had my way, I’d beg him to rape me, hard, rough, and straight up VIOLENT, just like in that dream, haha you know I’m the type of nigga that likes it rough… Nah, I ain’t seen how big his dick is, but I always imagine that shit is hung like a horse… I ain’t tellin’ him a goddamn thing yo, he’d fuckin’ murder me…”

My mind was racing. At first I was a bit disgusted to hear another DUDE talking like this about me. I’d heard bitches talking like that in the past, but this was something else. My own roommate? The nigga I let hit my bong and shit? But then again, I was recently starting to get a little suspicious about the way he was acting around me. Not only that, but he didn’t know that I’d fucked a few dudes while in prison. Yeah I was straight, but damn some of those prison dudes were pissing me off, and I made an example of them by doing exactly what Kareem had described. Abusing them, degrading them, and fucking them so hard that I left them feeling stupid. Even when I fucked girls, I DID like to get violent and dominant. And ever since I got to this school, I hadn’t found any girls that really liked it super rough. There was only one that I had fucked, but then she cold-shouldered me and wanted nothing more to do with me. Now my roommate was saying he wanted to get a rough fucking. It had been nearly a month since I’d gotten some pussy, so I was pretty frustrated. Even so, as I heard Kareem continue to talk on the phone, I felt an evil grin spread across my face, and I felt my dick getting hard. I decided to play it cool for a couple of weeks and then if he was willing, I’d let his ass have it…


Kareem’s POV:

It was Friday, and we were all finally done with midterms and ready for the extended weekend of fall break in mid-October. Around 7:00 that evening I was in my room chilling, when I decided to go get something to drink out of the fridge. As soon as I opened the door, Chris came into the apartment.

“What up my nigga?” I said.

He nodded but didn’t say anything, and went straight to his room, looking really pissed off. He shut his door with a snap. I was caught off-guard, wondering what I had done to Chris to make him mad like that. But damn if he didn’t look even sexier when he was angry like that…

He then opened his door and came back out and went up to the fridge, still looking rather stony.

“You okay, bro?” I asked nervously.

“I’m good, man,” he said, and I was relieved that he didn’t sound mad at me. “Just some fuck niggas tried me at the gym. Tried to jack my car and shit. Anyway, I took care of them.”

“Beat that ass, huh?” I asked.

“Damn straight,” he said, grinning. “Had them niggas cryin’ for mama.”

“Cool!” I said.

“Oh yeah, check it out,” he said, and he ran back into his room for a second then came back out. “A whole ounce of some medical type shit!” he said, holding up a bag of bright green weed.

“Damn, nigga!” I said, my face scrunched up from the potent smell of the bud. “That shit stinks! I bet it’s gonna get us super fuckin’ high!”

“Yep!” he said. “Let’s get smoked out, nigga.”

Half an hour later, the room was filled with smoke and we were blazed as fuck. We were laughing and coughing at each other’s crazy stoner stories.

“Man, I’m glad we finally got a couple days off, bro,” he said.

“Yeah nigga,” I replied. “Too much work and shit got me stressed out. I need a break.”

We both laughed again; we were so high, that everything was just funny as fuck.

“Alright,” said Chris, setting his bong down on the table. “I gotta ask ya something, man.”

“What’s up?” I said. I wasn’t expecting this, and didn’t know what he was about to say.

“I want you to be honest with me, alright?” he said. “I ain’t gonna judge you or nothing, cuz you and me are gettin’ to be cool ass niggas, right?”

“Um, yeah,” I said nervously. Where was this conversation going?

He looked at me, and even though he was grinning, there was a hard look in his eyes.

“You been checkin’ me out, homie?”

I did a double-take. “Wait, what?” I said, caught off-guard.

“I think you been checkin’ me out, man,” he said.

“What, no!” I said, a little too quickly. I could feel myself starting to sweat. He knew. I had no idea how, but he knew!

“Look, man,” he said. “You my nigga. Like I said, I ain’t judgin’ you or nothing. But lately it’s become pretty obvious. You’re always liking my pics on Facebook and shit, you wear shades so I can’t see your eyes, and I think you been peekin’ in my room tryin’ to see me naked.”

“Bruh, you trippin’!” I said, now sweating even harder. Dead giveaway…

“And you sweatin’ like hell.”

“It’s a little warm in here.”

“Bullshit, nigga.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Listen man, you ain’t gotta hide shit from me, okay? Like I said, you my nigga. And nobody else has to know anything.”

“But—”

“You think I didn’t hear you talkin’ on the phone a couple weeks ago, talkin’ about how you were havin’ dreams about me and shit?