Living off campus – Part III
For the sake of preservation, this thread endeavors to recreate the legendary Tumblr blog str8guys4fags2serve. Written by a young Apex Alpha, its bluntly honest revelations form the bedrock of Hierarchical truth found on this website and all others. I thank the anonymous Alpha writer for sharing his wisdom. This thread is a tribute to you, Sir. CLICK HERE for all of these posts in chronological order!
Things fell into place as Casa Bill quickly. Without even prompting from me. Bill started to do our laundry. Mike was something of an exhibitionist (and with a body like that, why not) and would shuck off his clothes upon entering the house (sometimes even in the yard), leaving a string of his clothing on the floor as he made his way through the place to his bedroom or the pool or the TV room. Bill would follow in his wake, picking up his stuff and taking it to the laundry room (and I suspect grabbing a sniff or two of Mike’s sweaty, cum-stained jock). We would find our laundry clean and ironed and neatly folded and put away.
Maybe Bill did the laundry in order to encourage Mike to go naked. Bill would simply stare at the boy-god for hours as Mike watch TV, played Wii. or heaven forbid, studied. (Mike had a fag on campus who attended classes for him and did his assignments, and on occasion took tests for him, so he easily maintained eligibility.)
Bill also started cooking our meals – no easy feat, since Mike must have eaten maybe 30,000 calories a day ( an exaggeration, but not by much). Bill always had something tempting to eat.
Bill complained to me that with Mike using his car to get to campus, he (Bill) was having a tough time getting into town to work. I told Bill that was not my problem and that he was smart enough to find a solution on his own. So Bill bought Mike a new Toyota. I told Bill that that car was not suitable for a Man like Mike. Bill agreed, and so Bill kept the Toyota and Mike kept the BMW.
After a couple weeks Bill was riding my cock pretty regularly, and Mike was fucking Bill’s ass once or twice a day to boot. That’s when I brought this guy Kyle, who was on the swim team home. I told Bill that Kyle would be taking the third bedroom.
“That’s my room,” Bill said.
“Where am I going to sleep,” Bill asked. “How about I move back into your room with you?”
I simply stared at him, giving the bitch one of those you’ve-got-to-be-kidding looks. We walked through the house until I spotted the front hall closet. “Empty this out and put your stuff in there,” I ordered. “This is where you live now.”
The closet wasn’t big enough for Bill even to lay down a mattress and eventually, we went to Costco and got him one of those doggie beds for him to curl up in.
And that closet became the place where we stored Bill when he was not in use for the rest of the time that we lived there. It took some mind-fucking to get Bill to understand that the closet was his storage space, but in the end, Bill knew where he stood.