I was awake. Sadly.

I let one of my eyes open before the other and blinked through my eyelashes across the room. I was looking at a bed. My bed.

Which meant everything last night hadn't been a dream after all.

With a groan, I pushed myself into a sitting position and stared down at myself in disgust before finally locating the trunks I'd been wearing yesterday and sliding them on. I could hear the shower switch off in the bathroom, which meant Michael was still around.

That or some random person had snuck in there, which might actually be more preferable.

I stumbled my way to the kitchen and opened Michael's minifridge, hoping there was some pop or something, but only saw the jug of milk I bought and a few cans of cheap beer. I took one and popped the tab. Disgusting as always. How my dad drank this shit every day was beyond me.

Next I set about making myself a bowl of cereal with the milk, figuring I should be able to manage the simplest of breakfasts. I was trying to find a spoon to eat it with when the bathroom door opened and Michael strolled out, stopping the second he saw me.

"That's my good beer," he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him, standing there in the doorway, fully nude. "Go away. I never want another naked person in this kitchen as long as I live."

He rolled his eyes and continued past the door towards his bed. "Not like you haven't already seen it."

I picked up the bowl and tried to drink directly from it. I ended up choking and spilling milk all down my face. Great.

It wasn't long until Michael came back, now with a pair of gray joggers hanging low on his hips. I could still see it, the outline anyway, but mentioning this would mean admitting to looking in the first place.

He made his way over to me while I stood still, frozen against the counter. "Good morning," he smirked.

"How late is it?" I asked.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check. I looked too, but he was holding it so close to his crotch I had to force my gaze away. "Eight forty-three," he answered before putting it down screen-up on the counter.

"You should have woken me up."

"You looked peaceful," he told me. "And you weren't tossing and turning and mumbling in your sleep like all the other times."

I stopped and set my uneaten cereal down. "I talk in my sleep?"

"Don't worry, it's mostly nonsense," he said tactfully.

"Mostly?"

He sighed and took a long drink of beer before responding. "You could probably make out a few words here and there. I'm not sitting up and listening to your secrets."

I waited a second, then walked up slowly to where he was seated and placed one hand on each of his legs. "If you were, would you admit it?" I said, tilting my head to the side.

"No."

I looked up at him silently until a drop of water fell from the tips of his hair onto my cheek and I leaned back, scrubbing it away. "I should take a shower," I muttered.

He gripped my sides, his thumbs twisting in the hem of my t-shirt. "Can I come?"

"You were just in the shower," I said.

"I could go back."

I fidgeted a little. His fingers had found their way to my skin. "Stop it," I mumbled. "You're so fucking creepy."

He lifted his eyebrows. "Welcome to Ben being bitch part five million."

"Fuck you," I said. I brought my hand up from my side and slapped his face. I didn't even feel it until a few seconds passed, and then my hand broke out in sharp tingles.

He laughed and let go of me, lifting his hand to his cheek. "You're such a fucking woman."

I wondered which would be the more masculine, alpha response: to act unbothered by such a trivial insult or stand up for myself and beat the shit out of him.

Either way, slapping him probably wasn't the best course of action.

"At least I don't suck cocks," I said.

The corner of his lip curved up. "Yet."

A spark of rage flared in my gut. "You know what?" I gritted. "I don't have to stand here and take this." I pushed myself away from the counter. "Have a nice life, cocksucker."

He grabbed me by my hair and dragged me back, so that my back slammed against his chest. "Act like a bitch and you'll get treated like one," he whispered over the sound of my heart pounding.

The words shot straight to my dick. I gasped a little at the tingle of pain in my scalp and looked down at the embarrassing bulge in my trunks. I saw it. He saw it.

Fucking hell.

Michael slid off the counter smoothly, keeping one hand skillfully on my waist while the other clutched my hair. My thighs squeezed together but it was no use. I was getting harder by the second. I wasn't afraid of what he'd do, I realized. I was excited.

"I think you need to cool off, Benny," he murmured. The way he was looking at me - it was dark, hungry, like a lion eyeing a slab of meat. And then, before I could protest, he wrapped both arms securely around my thighs and hoisted me over his shoulder.

"Michael!" I shouted. "You can't just pick me up! It's not fair."

"Sorry," he laughed as he left the kitchen. "It was too hard to resist. How much do you weigh? Like a hundred pounds?"

"120," I muttered.

He chuckled some more and carried me into the bathroom before lowering me to my feet. I clutched his hard biceps to keep from falling.

He was taller than me, stronger than me, hotter than me - but his confidence, the way he felt so secure about himself and who he was, that was what I envied the most. I wasn't sure I could ever get to that point.

Michael's thumbs slipped beneath the waistband of my trunks. "You have to take these off to shower." He edged them down an inch, just enough to reveal the stubble of my pubic hair.

I wanted to chastise him for being so eager, but I couldn't. I wanted him too. I wanted to feel his hands on me again, feel his mouth for more than the three-second teaser he'd given me last night.

If I had a cocksucker for a roommate, I might as well reap the benefits.

I pressed my lips together and pulled down my trunks, letting them drop to my ankles. He let his eyes linger on my erection before doing the same with his joggers. I felt so naked now, so exposed, without the cover of darkness or rush of hasty passion.

I was trembling, and I couldn't look him in the eye, so I just turned and got in the shower first, turning on the water.

He stood outside motionlessly while I waited for him. "Coming?"

"It's freezing," he protested. "I don't want him to shrink."

Oh. Him. I looked down. "I think he'll be okay," I murmured. Michael wasn't exactly small. He sighed and got in after me, bumping into my side. "Be honest," I said curiously. "Have you fucked someone in here?"

"Is that an invitation?"

I blinked. "It's a question."

"Alright," he said. "Yes. Kitty."

Of course. I didn't respond, just dunked my head under the water and stood there as my fluffy hair flattened against my forehead.

I suddenly realized I'd completely forgotten what to do next. It was extremely uncomfortable, I thought, taking a shower with another person there next to you, seeing everything you did. Showering must be one of the most personal things out there. Should I just start washing myself and he did too? Did we wash each other? That seemed awkward.

"What?" said Michael.

The water was finally starting to heat up. "I don't know."

He laughed a little and reached around me to pick up my shampoo bottle in the corner. "Daily strengthening shampoo," he read. "Thickens, strengthens, cleanses." He looked up. "Fancy."

"At least I don't use that 3-in-1 shit."

"You are an elite man," he said. I rolled my eyes and he shook it and squeezed some out onto his palm before rubbing his hands together and running them through my hair.

I jumped a little at first, then backed up until we were pressed against each other and leaned on him while he gently massaged my scalp. He paused after a moment, rinsing off his hands in the water, then uncapped his own body wash and started rubbing my shoulders.

I looked up at him, my eyes softening. "This is kind of nice," I admitted. No one had ever touched me gently before.

"Yeah?" he said. "Good." He made his way down my chest and wrapped his free arm loosely around my waist while his other hand grazed over my soft stomach slowly. I shivered. "Are you cold?" he asked. "The water's, like, scalding now."

"It's, um..." I started, my voice small. "It's because you're touching me."

He cut across my hip and rubbed my thigh, squeezing the inside slightly. I sucked in my breath. "You're so hard," he whispered.

I let out my breath shakily, my stomach rising and falling under his arm. Then I reached down and grabbed ahold of myself, slipping my hand up and down while I deliberately raised my eyes to his.

"Fuck," he said. A smile formed on my lips as I turned around, taking hold of him with my other hand and forcing us to rub together. "You, uh, you really like doing that, huh?" he said.

"I think they like playing," I said.

He snorted and wound his arms around me, sliding his hands up the backs of my thighs until he reached my ass. I stared at him, widening my eyes, as he pressed just his middle finger between my cheeks and slowly dragged it up.

I sucked in a breath. If I allowed this to continue, would he want to fuck me in the ass? Would I ever want that? I couldn't think straight. "Michael," I mumbled. My cheeks clenched up as his fingertip grazed my entrance. "Michael, stop."

He listened. His hands slid to my hips and held me close. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah." My face was burning hot, but I hoped the water could excuse it. "I just... I don't think I'm... maybe if I had more time to think about it..." I stumbled over my words.

"That's alright," he said reassuringly. "Take your time. I'll wait." He flashed me a smirk and I couldn't help but smile too, relieved.

When he touched me again, I moaned slowly and rocked on my feet, pressing my face to his neck. I knew I wouldn't be able to last long. Not in the heat, not while being this close to him. I kissed his skin sloppily, trailing my wet lips from his neck to his hard chest.

His hand pumped faster. A desperate whine escaped me. "That's it," he breathed. "You look so gorgeous when you cum."

I held onto his shoulders and pinched my eyes shut as a wave of pleasure pulsed through my length. Gasping, I came into his hand, onto his dick. Our lips found each other's and pressed together hard as he finished me off.

In the moments that followed, my mind cleared a little. I let him kiss my neck and cradle me like something precious. I felt his erection press against the bottom of my stomach. Smirking mischievously, I reached behind me and turned off the water.

Michael looked up, confused. I patted the side of his face. "Thanks," I told him, before stepping out of the shower.

He made a low noise in his throat and followed me slowly. I could see his reflection behind mine. "Going somewhere?" he whispered.

"Yes," I said, staring into my own eyes in the mirror. "I'm actually supposed to meet someone today. A girl." I smirked at myself. "I think I'll fuck her."

"Oh?" he murmured, his lips brushing along my neck. "She can't wait?"

"No," I said. "Michael, do you think if a girl kisses you and says you should fuck sometime and then tells you to come hang out you'll get to fuck her?"

"Maybe," he said, just as casually. "Girls are confusing. Hard to tell with them sometimes. I find men to be much more straightforward. For example, a man would just say, I wanna fuck the shit out of you until you can't walk. Down?"

"I don't say that."

"I know you don't."

I leaned all the way back, boring my eyes into his. "You sound like you've never had anyone deny you."

"I certainly have," he said. "Right now is a perfect example."

I took a deep breath. "I won't be one of your bitches."

"Well, you're something," he murmured. He gripped my hips, pulling me tightly against him until I could feel him throb against my lower back. "Maybe we can invent a title."

"We already have one," I said. "Roommates."

"Thank god for that." He pushed me forward against the sink and I bent at the waist, my chest hitting the countertop. I twisted my face to one side, cheek pressed to the marble, and looked up at him behind me.

He hooked his hands where my hips creased and pulled them up, so my ass pressed against his lower stomach. "Michael," I whimpered. "What are you doing?"

"Put your legs together," he said. I was still confused, but I did so. He used his own precum and the water from the shower to rub his wet fingers between the middle of my thighs, creating a sort of slippery crevice.

Then he held my hips and pushed in, and I could feel him glide along my skin. I held my legs together and squeezed, like one of those bodybuilder chicks with the watermelons, and he groaned in pleasure.

"See," he said, breathing hard, "this is almost like fucking you. Just, you know, not."

It was probably just as humiliating, but I couldn't even fathom the amount of pain the real thing would cause me, so if he wanted to do this every day for the rest of the year I wouldn't complain.

"Fuck," he groaned. "Oh, fuck." He dropped my hips and grabbed both my ass cheeks in his hands, then pushed himself up between them and a second later I felt him cum. "Shit," he whispered, his voice low.

I felt powerful in a way, though I didn't quite understand. A man I'd met a few days ago had just me bent over his sink and I felt powerful. Maybe it was knowing that all it took for this gorgeous man to cum was a few strokes between my legs.

He wrapped his arms around me, almost in a hug, and very gently wiped his release off me with one of the white towels. I started to pull away but he held on, his hands on my sides. "Jump," he told me.

"What?"

"Just do it," he said. "Trust me."

I didn't trust him in the slightest, but I jumped up anyway. He gripped underneath my thighs and spread them around his waist, and then I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked around. I was tall for the first time in my life. "Oh my god," I laughed. "This is awesome."

He walked out the bathroom door and carried me over to my bed, then set me down on my back and crawled on top of me, my legs still wrapped around his torso. "You sure you have to go?" he asked. "You can't just stay in bed with me all day?"

"Could you possibly lie in bed with me all day and not try to fuck me?"

"It would be tough," he said. "But yes. I have godly willpower." He sat up, then ducked his head and kissed my inner thigh once before standing and walking over to his side of the room. "Tonight we should 69," he said. "I love 69."

I grabbed my phone and opened my text conversation with Rhoda.

still going to the park today?

I wondered how many people Rhoda had brought there to "hang out". What did that even mean? What if I got myself all excited to go fool around and nothing happened?

yea i'll be there. better b good cuz u kept me waiting so long 😉

Well, that certainly sounded like something.

"Michael," I groaned as he rambled on about sex positions. "Be quiet. I'm trying to text her."

"I didn't say anything," he said, raising his hands in surrender. They were a bit bigger than mine, darker too and rough like he'd done some manual labor or something. Maybe he was a criminal.

"Whatever. I'll just talk to her in person." I grabbed a plain blue t-shirt and slipped it over my head, then got up to put on my jeans.

He got up, then walked past me back over to his bed. "Hold on a sec."

I waited, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Michael came back, and when I narrowed my eyes he held up a little golden square. "You look like you couldn't keep a plant alive, let alone a child. Here."

I grabbed the condom and stuffed it into my back pocket hastily. "Thanks."

He smiled and took my face in both hands, then kissed me on the forehead. "Good luck."

I frowned deeply. "I'm nervous."

"Why?"

"I'm..." I pulled away from him and walked over to where I'd left my shoes last night. "I don't think I'm very good at sex."

He laughed. "You were fine with me."

"Yeah but... I don't really have to do anything with you," I said quietly. I thought about when poor Patty lost her virginity to me. I doubted she had pleasant memories associated with three minutes of wordless thrusting and sweat.

"I mean, I could try to help," he said uncertainly. "What are you not good at? Fingering? Eating her out? The actual fucking?"

"All of it," I said miserably.

He shook his head. "Do you even know where the clit is?"

I felt my whole body prick with rage. How could I be so stupid to talk about something like that with him? It was now just more ammunition for taunting me.

"I'll take that as a no," he said. "Wow. You really are a man."

"Goodbye," I snapped. I got up and marched back into the bathroom, almost tripping over the towel he'd left on the ground. Jesus. Now every time I looked at that counter, I would only be able to see me bent over it.

How can you be so fucking stupid?

Maybe it would do me some good to have sex with a girl. Maybe it would get me back on the right path. I looked at the corner of the sink where Michael's toothbrush, razor, and cologne sat.

The cologne was what made him so hot, right? I hesitated for a second, then picked it up and doused myself in the scent, enjoying it a little more than I probably should have.

Now I was a fucking creepy psychopath as well as an idiot.

I walked back out of the bathroom and shoved my keys into my pocket. "Bye," I said again.

Michael looked over. "Come here."

"Why?" I said defensively.

"C'mere," he said. "We're having an anatomy lesson right now." I bit the inside of my cheek and walked over, then sat down and he pulled me over so my body was against his. "Okay, look." He wound his arm around me from behind and pressed his hand down on my crotch. I immediately started getting hard. "Pretend you have a pussy. Your clit is right here. Right at the top." He twisted his middle finger around and my dick jumped.

"That's enough," I said.

"No." He picked up my hand and pushed it against his other palm, then forced my fingers in a circular motion. "This is what you do, got it?"

I was so uncomfortable I wanted to cry. "Why can't I just shove it in like everyone else?"

"You can," he laughed. "But you run the risk of never seeing her again."

"Fuck."

He smiled and leaned forward to kiss my cheek, then turned my head and kissed my lips. "I believe in you," he said.

I don't, I thought. I shrugged him off and got up, then glanced back one last time as I opened the door. He gave me a cute smile. I rolled my eyes. Everything else was just about as uncertain as it could get, but there was one thing I was sure of.

I was definitely falling in love with Michael D'Angelo.