Mr. Roommate: Single Dad & Virgin Romance

Brent

“Man, I wish I was as lucky as you.” My best friend, Steve, handed me a beer and sat down next to me on the couch as the football darted across the screen for the opening kickoff.

“Lucky?” I lifted the can to my lips and took a long swig. “There isn’t anything lucky about this.”

“You’re kidding me, right? You have the house to yourself. You have a seventy-inch television you get to watch football on instead of being forced to watch it in the garage on a shitty hand-me-down. You get to drink beer in the house without anyone bitching at you. I wish my wife would leave me.” Steve shook his head and sipped his beer.

“Why don’t you leave her if you’re unhappy?” My brow came together and there was a bit of anger in my tone.

“Oh, I can’t do that… I got kids, man.” He shook his head back and forth.

“So do I.” I looked over at him. “One at least.”

“Yeah, but I mean—she left you. That’s different.” He stood up and pointed at the television as our team, the Los Angeles Dragons, made a first down. “Hell, if my wife left me? I’d move in here with you and we could be bachelors again like we were before we got married. Just imagine how much pussy we would get.”

“I guess so.” I didn’t react to the play or his comment, even though it would have been the highlight of my evening if my wife and daughter were in the other room—they could have even been complaining about football for all I cared.

A few hours later, the game was over and Steve was gone. All I had was the emptiness of my house and a dim room illuminated only by the computer screen in front of me. There were many facets to divorce that Steve didn’t understand. I refused to let my daughter go without just because her mother was a cheating bitch, so a lot of my money went to her every month. Every penny I could save was squirreled away in a college fund, but I wasn’t saving nearly enough to give her the college education I wanted her to have. I needed a roommate—and not one like Steve. I needed someone responsible enough to pay their share of the bills, and calm enough to let me dwell in my alcohol-soaked misery.

Okay, I hope this is good enough.

I stared at the screen for a moment. The advertisement was ready to be posted online for people to find. I gave it one final proofread to make sure I didn’t accidentally confess a hidden desire to murder, maim, cook and eat all potential applicants. I could have summed up the kind of person I was looking for in one sentence—I wanted someone who wasn’t a fucking idiot—but that didn’t pass their profanity filter. I embellished a bit, but not as much as the listings in a rundown-area offering safe neighborhoods and a good school district. That was obviously a blatant lie. I hit the button to submit the listing and leaned back in my chair.

Let the hunt begin.

I couldn’t believe my life had devolved to the state it was in. It had only been a year since my life was absolutely perfect. I was married to a beautiful woman and we had a cute little three year old with the best of both of us wrapped up in one perfect package. All of that was gone. My wife left me for a younger man—one that she jokingly called hot-dad at the dinner table for weeks before I found out they were having an affair. He was a single dad with a son who attended the same daycare my daughter went to. That decision had already cost me a year of my daughter’s life and I knew it was going to cost me a lot more before she was finally old enough to understand why she didn’t get to see her Daddy on a regular basis.

Go to hell hot-dad, with your perfect smile and deliberate charisma.

Before I found out about the affair, I thought my wife was just going through the usual crisis of a woman turning thirty. I didn’t care if she looked at other men and make jokes about them—I even bought her Magic Mike—and the sequel—so she could dream about Channing Tatum and Kevin Nash. I knew my six pack had become a bit bloated from beer and hot wings. My gym membership hadn’t been renewed after my daughter was born and she consumed every waking hour of our life. It wasn’t like I didn’t let my eyes wander. A hot ass in a pair of form-fitting jeans, a pair of big tits in a tight t-shirt—I wouldn’t have been a man if I didn’t notice. The difference was that once they were out of my sight, they were out of my mind, and my wife was the only thing that ever got my dick hard.

No responses. I wonder how long this takes…

The empty house was like a prison. It was the only thing I had left of the life I loved. I simply existed between every other weekend when I got to see my daughter, Melody. The house was the only thing my wife didn’t take when she filed for divorce. Apparently, hot-dad had told her the market was bad and she should stick me with the mortgage, so she did. It wasn’t bad advice because we were upside down on our mortgage and since she wanted to marry hot-dad as soon as the ink was dry on our divorce papers, there wasn’t going to be any alimony. Even without her being a drain on my finances, it was getting tight. A roommate could change that—provided I could find one that I trusted.

Still no response—bedtime or porn—definitely porn.

My hand was a poor substitute for pussy, but it was all I really had. I could have ventured out into the world and found someone to bring home, but I just wasn’t ready for anything more than a quick thrill. I lifted up in the chair and pushed my boxers to the floor, kicking them to the side once they were around my ankles. My t-shirt followed and I leaned back in the chair with the computer screen illuminating my naked body. A year of barely eating and taking on my frustration on the punching bag in the garage had erased every bit of the weight I put on after my daughter was born. If I would have known that was all my wife cared about, I would have done it a lot sooner.

Seen it. Seen it. Seen it twice.

My hand moved the mouse across the screen as I tried to find something new that I hadn’t watched before. I was lucky that I lived in the digital age because it was really difficult for me to watch the same porn movie twice. There was excitement in the uncertainty, even if it was just for a quick thrill. I finally found one I hadn’t seen before, although the trope wasn’t original. I watched as the girl started to undress and stroked my cock until it was getting hard in my hand. There was no emotion in what I felt, but if I didn’t get off, I would go crazy. I thought I was going to die waiting on my wife to finally be ready for sex again after our daughter was born.

Yeah, put that cock in your mouth.

I became the guy in the movie, but only in my mind. The fantasy unfolded as I watched the actress go from a timid schoolgirl to a professional dick swallower in a matter of seconds. She took the cock deep into her throat without any hesitation and I imagined those ruby lips wrapped around my shaft, sucking me with the same enthusiasm she

had for the camera. My strokes got faster as she did and I started to feel a surge of pleasure in my balls. Thankfully, that was just the warm-up and after covering the guy’s shaft in saliva, she leaned back on the bed and spread her legs. Her pussy was glistening with her wetness and ready to be fucked.

Now for what I really like.

The guy slid between her thighs and pressed his glans to her wetness. She moaned when he entered her, but the ease of it suggested that her pussy was no stranger to being fucked—regardless of what she said for the camera. In a matter of seconds, he was thrusting himself into her fast and I was imagining it was me. I tightened the grip on my cock and stroked it fast, moving from the engorged head to my balls so fast that my hand was a blur. I needed a release. It would give me a moment of pleasure and then I could get some sleep.

Take my cock—you love it.

The pressure started to build in my balls and I knew I was close to an orgasm. I grabbed the towel laying by my computer and positioned it against my cock. The pressure got more intense as the woman on the screen moaned and begged to have her pussy fucked harder. In my mind, I was happy to oblige. The pressure got even stronger and the pleasure sent a release of dopamine through my body. I clenched the head of my cock with the towel as the guy pulled out and started unloading on the girl’s stomach. The sticky streams of cum covered her as mine rushed through my cock and erupted against the towel. I stroked faster, sending more cum shooting through the shaft until I was drained.

Okay, time for bed.