Freshman Roommate (Part 1)

[countmuscle]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

 

Part 1:

Move-in day your freshman year of college is nerve-wracking for everyone. But for me, it was doubly so.

Like most other freshmen at my midwestern university, I was moving into a dorm on campus. My new roommate had been assigned randomly via a lottery.

 

All I knew was his name, email, plus what little I could glean from social media. Not much.

 

Frank Ryan, from Dallas, Texas. 

 

His only profile photo (if it was even his) was a thumbnail image of a high school football player mid-play. I couldn't really make out what he looked like.

 

For 18-year-old me, a total nerd with an unhealthy obsession with muscle-bound jocks, this was more than enough to make my heart pound and my imagination reel. 

 

After Frank was assigned as my roommate in July, I had sent him a long email: How excited I was to be roommates, where I'm from, what I'll be studying, logistical details about my arrival, etc.

 

His reply back was terse. 

 

Sounds good man - looking fwd. I move in 1 day b4 u

Frank

 

Gulp.

 

---

 

I was moving all by myself. My parents lived in California and couldn't fly out with me. 

 

So when I arrived at the residence hall (buzzing with activity from all the other arrivals), it was just me lugging two enormous suitcases, drenched with sweat from the effort. 

 

I got to the door of my room, 201B. I heard the sound of someone's feet inside, plus another buzzing noise I couldn't recognize. There was a faint, manly aroma in the air.

 

Should I knock? I asked myself. I decided I should. I gently tapped the door. No answer. I knocked harder. No answer. Then I pounded the door, but got no response.

 

I lurked outside for a few minutes, unsure what to do. I took a deep breath and decided to go in. The door was unlocked.

 

"HELLO?" I said, to announce myself. "Frank?"

 

I walked in and saw what remains, to this day, the most shocking image of my life.

 

A monstrous, shirtless man was standing with his back to me. His olive-skinned body looked genuinely unreal -- impossible to describe how much muscle hung on his enormous frame. I gauged he was probably 6'4, but his slightly hairy back looked almost as wide as he was tall. Even more startling than his back was his ass, which was so large it literally sucked his XXL gym shorts into its crack, so I could see each globe of his bubble butt in amazing detail. He was standing barefoot on a grey towel, even his calves bulging unnaturally. 

 

The muscle freak had noise-canceling headphones on (which explained why he hadn't heard me knocking). I heard a buzzing noise and saw he was holding a hair trimmer. I realized he was standing in front of the mirror, buzzing his chest.

 

As I stepped into the small room, he still hadn't heard me. I smelled the intoxicating scent of sweat, as if there were clouds of testosterone in the air.

 

"HELLO?" I said again, my voice quavering. He didn't turn around, but kept bouncing his head (which looked tiny compared to his body) to the music playing in his headphones.

 

I crept closer, and suddenly caught sight of his eyes in the mirror reflection.

 

Startled, he whipped his massive body around. The room was so small -- and his reaction was so quick -- that his bare, left pec slammed right into my face with tremendous force. I flew backwards three feet and landed on my ass. 

 

"Frank?" I said as I stood up. "It's me, James. Your roommate."

 

"James?! FUCK! You scared the shit out of me, dude!" A voice to match his body: Deep. Hyper-masculine. Unreal.

 

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I knocked a bunch of times, but you had your headphones in." 

 

My eyes made their way up to Frank's face. 

 

I actively tried to ignore what I saw: a face that looked like a young Henry Cavill, only with a buzz-cut and a thick, dark beard. 

 

My new roommate was a Mr. Olympia-sized bodybuilder. That was enough for now. I couldn't deal with the fact that he had a perfect face, too. 

 

"No worries, man," he said, smiling, his voice so deep it sent a jolt of pleasure right to my dick. His eyes were gleaming. "Great to meet you. Sorry to bump into you. And for the mess. I was just trimming my chest..." 

 

I now noticed the pile of dark body hair on the towel on the floor, and that his HUGE pecs were trimmed on one side, dark and furry on the other. This guy was 18?!

 

"It's fine. I didn't know you'd be so...so..." Now I couldn't take my eyes off his pecs. They were only a foot or so from my face. Eye level. I wanted to touch them more than anything in the world. I started to blush. Veiny. Hairy. Juicy. One of them twitched involuntarily. I thought I might faint. 

 

Frank helped me out:

 

"So big? Yeah, I'm starting as a lineman on the football team. Been bulking up this summer -- gained 50 pounds!" Frank flexed right arm. "Yeaaa buddy!" The shockingly defined bicep that formed must have been 24 inches, at least.

"Holy shit..." I mumbled. I was starting to feel dizzy. I craned up my neck to look him in the eye, so I wouldn't get a hard-on from staring at his body. But his face was so handsome that I went even more red.

 

"Anyway, I'm glad you're finally here, because I wanted to tell you something. You see how the bunk bed is all fucked up?" 

Those shoulders. Each one was the size of a basketball. That beard. That voice. It was so ridiculously deep. Barely sounded human. It was like every time he spoke, someone was caressing my dick.

 

"James, you there?"

 

"Huh?" I said.

 

"You spaced out there for a sec. You got distracted?" He smiled and winked, and bounced his pecs -- more innocent than arrogant. "Anyway, I was saying -- you see how the bed is all fucked up?"

 

I now noticed that the bunk bed was indeed fucked up. Instead of being stacked vertically, both beds were laid side by side, almost touching each other. They left almost no floorspace in the small room. Frank continued:

"Well, when I got here, they said that we had to set it up this way. It turns out I'm too heavy for the bunks. It's a safety hazard if you're over 300 pounds because they might collapse when two people get in them. I'm 320. Can you believe that shit? So they made me move them side by side. I don't really care, it's fine this way, but I wanted you to know in case you mind crawling over my bed to get to yours. It's fine if you want to swap roommates with someone else. They might still let you."

 

"NO! It's fine! I don't mind," I said with far too much enthusiasm.

 

"You sure? I know it's annoying."

 

"Don't worry," I assured him.

 

"Cool, I appreciate you being so chill about it. Here, let me help with your stuff." Before I could object, Frank bolted out the hallway door, bubble butt bouncing behind him, and grabbed both my enormous bags. As if they weighed no more than feathers, he dropped them in the room and closed the door. There was barely any space in the room. His pecs were once again mere inches from my face. I couldn't decide which I loved more, the furry one or the buzzed one.

 

"Don't want to let the AC out," he said. "You mind if I finish this up while you're unpacking?" he asked, pointing down to his half-furry, half-buzzed torso.

 

"No, not at all." I realized I had little chest hairs all over my face, from where his sweaty pec had slapped into me.

 

I turned my back to Frank and unpacked my stuff, or tried to. I could barely think. I was just picking things up, putting them back down, in a daze. My hands were shaking. 

 

I tried to pretend that a bearded, 18-year-old, 320-pound, super-heavyweight bodybuilder wasn't trimming his body hair three feet away. As if I couldn't hear him wheezing. Fuck, even the way he held the beard trimmer in his giant paws was hot.

 

Then I noticed all the jock paraphernalia littered around the room: Protein powder, creatine, trophies, supplements, a white jockstrap hanging on the door handle, a football helmet, bodybuilding magazines, a sweaty wife-beater on the floor. Was that a cum rag in the corner? 

 

I realized how intense the smell in the room was. Not mildewy or sour. A rich, earthy, masculine musk. Pure pheromones. Against my concerted will, my cock started to harden. 

 

Out of nowhere, Frank's massive, calloused hand clasped my entire shoulder. I gasped and spun around to face him. His twitchy, veiny pecs -- fully buzzed now -- were four inches from my face. The dark bristly chest hair looked like it was already starting to grow back. It took all the self-control I had not to bury my face in them.

 

"Hey man," Frank said, his voice serious and deep. "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about. Maybe we can sit down."

 

I sat down on the bed, my arms covering my lap to hide my throbbing erection. 

 

Frank sat down right beside me, no personal space at all. The bed creaked loudly. His arousing smell was even more intense up close. Plus, somehow, his mounds of muscle looked even freakier seated and relaxed. Each of his hairy, veiny arms was thicker than my leg. Despite the serious expression on his face, my cock was starting to leak.

 

"Look," he began, looking into my eyes earnestly. "You seem like a really chill guy, and, uh, there's something I, uh...I wanted to..." He trailed off. Was HE nervous? I couldn't believe this monster who could rip my arm off was stammering.

 

"There's something you want to tell me?" I looked up from Frank's six pack, his perfect, heaving pecs, past his bulging, gorilla-like neck, his thick beard and sensual lips, and locked eyes with him. HE was blushing!

 

"Yeah. It's something I haven't told many people about. But I've been thinking... New school, new roommate... I ought to warn you, in case you're not cool with it."

 

"Warn me about what?" 

 

"I'm, uh... I'm...Um..." 

 

He was crimson red now. He hunched over, looking defeated, yet this posture only made his bare muscles look more swollen and unreal. When he lifted his arm up to scratch his forehead nervously, a 24-inch peak formed, and dark bushels of pit hair released an even stronger musk. I gasped.

 

"It's OK, Frank, you can tell me." As I spoke, I reached out and touched his hairy shoulder. I was both desperate to touch his body and trying to be reassuring. Yet the muscle felt so rock-hard that I gulped with disbelief.

 

"I'm... I'm....You should know I'm... I'm into, uh, into, um... Other... guys."

 

"You're gay?" I said, shell-shocked. Now he was not just blushing, his lip was quivering. He looked like he might cry. But his eyes remained locked with mine, almost bravely.

 

"I just thought it might be weird for you, sharing a room with... with... Well...I wanted to warn you."

 

I sighed. "Well, I appreciate the warning. But it's not an issue, Frank."

 

His eyes brightened. He smiled. So fucking adorable, I thought.

 

"It's not?"

 

"No, it's not a problem. Gay guys and straight guys get paired up all the time. It's not like being gay means you can't control yourself around your roommate." God, I thought to myself, I'm proof of this: How badly I wanted to kiss him right now.

 

"I was so worried to tell you," he said. "Last month when you emailed me, I almost thought of telling you then. There are only a few other people I've ever mentioned it to. No one on the football team knows. They all assume I'm straight, because, you know." He gestured at his 320 pounds of beefy, barely clothed muscle. My throat went dry.

 

"To be honest, Frank," I said, "I probably should have said something, too. It would have been a lot easier for you. I'm into guys too." 

 

His eyes widened. "WHAT!? You serious!?"

 

"Uh, yeah..."

 

"You're kidding me. You are too?"

 

"Yep! Small world, right? Or whatever the expression... You know what I mean."

 

Frank's mind looked completely blown. "You're fucking with me."

 

"No, I am not."

 

"Bro...That makes me so happy."

 

"Me too. Honestly, I also felt a little worried about being paired with a straight guy. Wasn't sure how he'd react."

 

"Dude..." He trailed off, and his eyes looked me up and down. Was he checking me out?

 

Suddenly, Frank pulled me in for a bear hug. I felt the abrasive texture of his chest stubble, the pecs hard as granite, breathed in his sweaty musk.  

 

"I'm just so happy how this turned out," he said. My dick went from semi to rock hard in about one second, well beyond my control. I mean, a bare-chested bodybuilder the size of a Mr. Olympia was hugging me.

 

I felt mortified. Even then, at 18, I knew I was quite hung, about 8 inches, and that my hard-on would be conspicuous. Yet his grasp was so strong, his musk so heavenly, there was nothing I could do but squeeze him tighter.

 

Then I felt it. Frank's cock was hard too. 9 or 10 inches, from the feel of it. 

 

Suddenly I realized that Frank wasn't hugging me. He was groping me. His hands were squeezing my ass, my lower back, the back of my neck. He was wheezing, moaning, in a horned up kind of way. "Fuck ya, fuck bro... fuck ya..." he muttered quietly. 

 

I felt his thick beard and tongue caressing my neck, smelled the beautiful pheromones that wafted from his hairy pits. Then he started kissing me on the mouth, his tongue gentler than I would have expected. I was in such a state of shock that I didn't even reciprocate. I just let him grope me and kiss me, held captive in his beastly arms, my eyes wide open.

 

The situation had escalated faster than I ever could have imagined. It had only been 10 minutes since I learned that the biggest, sexiest, hairiest muscle freak I'd ever seen was going to be my college roommate. Now he was kissing me, squeezing me, caressing my dick with his strong hands, pulling off my clothes...

 

Frank shoved my face into his cleavage. Each pec was the size of a textbook. I sucked on his nipples in ecstacy.

 

"AHH FUCK BRO!" he moaned -- so loud that I was sure the R.A. down the hall would hear it.

 

As I did, it occurred to me that Frank had probably not met many other openly gay men. I might have even been the first. 

 

Maybe he thought that it was automatic for two guys -- once it was established that they were both gay -- to go at it like rabbits. 

 

(How ironic, I thought, that this hyper-sexualized muscle god probably had less experience in bed than I did.) 

 

Frank's naivete and eagerness, while perhaps a little sad, were also charming -- and flattering. Everything I did, like kissing his neck, or brushing my hand over his shaft, elicited ten times more arousal than I was expecting it to. When I slipped my hand into his gym shorts and cupped his grapefruit-sized balls, pre-cum gushed from his cock.

 

"Fuck yeah dude. AW! AW! AW!"

 

Moaning louder than ever, Frank laid me out on one of the beds. 

 

The mattress was bare. (Whether it was his bed or mine, I wasn't sure yet). He pinned me down -- his buzzed, veiny muscles looking even freakier as they writhed on top of me. The 18-year-old mountain of muscle kissed my neck, my lips, with more passion than I would have ever felt entitled to. His cock, which turned out to be more like 10.5 inches -- as superlative as the body it was attached to -- had burst out of his gym shorts, and pressed against my abdomen, still leaking a stream of pre. I could tell we were both close to cumming.

 

Yet something in me snapped. I regained my senses. 

 

"Frank. FRANK. Wait a minute."

 

I rolled him over onto his back. The bed frame squealed.

 

I sat up on top of his teardrop-shaped super-quads, looking down at his surprised expression. From this angle, a giant shelf of pec meat obfuscated part of his face. His shockingly well-defined six pack pulsed in and out as he breathed heavily. His cock oozed more pre.

 

"What?" he asked.

 

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

 

"What do you mean? I thought you said you were gay."

 

"Yeah, but I'm your roommate. Is hooking up... you know... a bad move?"

 

"What... You...You... don't like me?" His face looked heartbroken and insecure, even while he propped up his head with a twitching 24-inch bicep.

 

"No, no, that's not it at all, Frank!"

 

He brushed me off from on top of him. I almost flew off the bed. Then he petulantly turned his back to me, so he was lying on his side facing the wall. The bed creaked and screeched. 

 

Even then, when I was afraid about having upset him, I was amazed by the muscles on display. My throat went dry. Frank's lats were so wide that his back soared several feet in the air, like a ship's sail. Each globe of his ass was the size of a watermelon. His weight made the whole mattress slope down towards his side. The force of gravity pressed me right against his back. 

 

"Am I too big for you?" he said, muffled, with his mutant lats to me. Was he crying?

 

"What? No!"

 

"People always get freaked out by me. Guys, girls... They think I'm going to hurt them or something..." he said. 

 

I caressed his traps gently. I couldn't believe this was the same muscle group that connected to my own neck. On him, they looked as wide and strong as a horse bridle. It was like he had a different anatomy than other human beings...

 

Despite my grandstanding about not hooking up, I was still hard, and in fact, pretty close to cumming. I attempted to refocus.

 

"Frank, c'mon. Turn around. Look at me," I said tenderly.

 

He flipped onto his other side to face me. His weight caused such a large dip in the mattress that my face flew right into his sweaty pecs. I pushed myself out and looked him in the eyes. His veiny neck must have been 18 inches round, but his face looked surprisingly boyish and hurt. I tried not to look down at the unreal chest, cock and quads that were just inches away from me, totally naked now.

 

"It's not that I'm freaked out by you," I said, not entirely honestly. Frank's muscles were extreme even by pro bodybuilding standards. He was 320 pounds, but he couldn't have had body fat above 5%. I didn't understand how an 18 year old could be this huge. How many years had he been on steroids?

 

"You're not?"

 

"Well, no. To be honest with you, Frank, I've always been into muscle. Like...Really into muscle. As long as I can remember. In fact, when I walked in here and saw you, I felt like I was dreaming. When I was 13, I used to steal bodybuilding magazines from 7-11 and jerk off to the photos. And you're bigger than any of them. You're bigger than Jay Cutler or Nick Walker or Big Ramy. And you're better looking, too. You're the hottest person I've ever met -- no, ever seen -- in my entire life."

 

Frank's eyes brightened. I continued:

"The thing is, just, uh... We're roommates. So I'm worried it's a bad idea to hook up.. You know... Maybe it will get awkward?"

 

Now Frank raised a devilish eyebrow.

 

"You like muscle?" he said, smiling. It occurred to me I had never admitted my obsession to anyone else before, even though it occupied me every hour of every day.

 

"Mhm," I said.

 

"You know what I'm into? Handsome, sexy, smart guys. Like you." (My heart almost stopped.) "When you walked in and I got a look at you, I didn't know how I'd be able to keep it in my pants all year bro. You're totally my type. And if you think for one second we're not going to hook up, just because we're roommates...When you're into muscle..."

 

Now Frank flexed an arm with a cocky energy that made my head spin.

 

"You think I'm big now? I'm just getting started. I'll be 350 by winter break. And if you think you're not going to worship these muscles, feel them up every single night, suck on them, cuddle them..." he shoved the peak, then his pit, into my face, suffocating me. I immediately came. Warm cum gushed all over the bare mattress and Frank's six pack. 

 

Frank got up and straddled me. He still flexed with one arm, jerked his enormous cock with the other. His weight was almost unbearable.

"If you think we're not going to fuck every night... If you think we're not going to jerk off together every morning..." His face grew flushed as he tugged on his shaft, one bicep still flexed in a crazy peak. He slurped on his own arm. "AH, AH, UH, UH, UH!!" 

 

He sprayed a firehose of cum all over me, drenching my face and torso. I tasted it, a beautiful, sweet, salty taste, and swallowed it. Winking, he climbed off me, and drew me into his swollen arms.

 

-- 

 

That day, we moved the two beds right next to each other, so they were basically connected. From then on, we cuddled every night of freshman year.

 

I wouldn't say we were boyfriends. Not exactly. Our relationship only existed inside our dorm room. 

 

Outside of it, Frank was the ultimate football jock, the biggest muscle freak the campus had ever known. Most people got chills of fear (or arousal) when he waddled in a room. If anyone even suspected that Frank was gay, he would have been too afraid to say it out loud. 

 

Yet as soon as he'd close the dorm room door, Frank would rip his shirt off, kiss me passionately, straddle me with his hard cock bouncing up and down.

 

Nor did I mind this arrangement. On the contrary, I loved knowing that he was all mine. Who would dare hit on him? I'd race home from the library or class, he'd come home from practice or a frat party, and we'd roll around in bed for hours. It never got old. I didn't even JO anymore. What was the point? The biggest, hottest, most hung man imaginable was sleeping next to me every night.

 

I worshipped everything about Frank, even the things that would turn most people off. The constant meals of ground meat and rice. (Every two hours. Every day. From 8am to 11pm.) The vials of tren. (I even helped him inject it.) The snoring. The wheezing. The body hair. The musk. The roid gut. The slightly receding hairline from so much gear. It all drove me crazy.

 

Frank wasn't kidding about getting bigger. He gained forty pounds in four months, pushing his weight up to 360. He lost some of the definition in his abs, yet I liked him even better this way. His cheeks got fuller, while his pecs and ass grew grotesquely large, like oversized balloons about to burst. Once or twice a month, he'd come home with the seat of his XXL shorts ripped apart.

 

Like the creaking bed we shared, our relationship somehow, miraculously, stayed in one piece. I knew it couldn't last forever -- yet I also knew I'd probably never have this much fun again.

[Bigconnorfan1]

Love it! Want to see more from them!

[spacevlad]

Amazing!! More please. 

[DennisFLL]

Great story, countmuscle.   The muscular-size difference between the protagonists enhances the story's hotness with the potential for muscle-worshiping.  Will you be continuing with this?; I think a lot of your readers would want that!

[Ro20316]

This was awesome. They both finally let go of their inhibitions and are in for the journey

[boardman]

Damn hot story 

[dredlifter]

Very hot.  Loved it. 

[LukeXL]

This is excellent. "Am I too big for you?" was so unexpected and really gelled the characters' personalities for me.

[countmuscle]

Thanks for the comments - I'm working on a sequel 

[LorianofLothric]

1 hour ago, countmuscle said:

Thanks for the comments - I'm working on a sequel 

Can’t wait! This is a great story with plenty of sequel potential