Tasted By My Straight Roommates

“I thought I was just hungry. Turns out, I was starving… for him.”

It started with something left in the bathroom. Still warm. Still slick. Something that smelled like Pierre.

I know I shouldn’t have touched it - but once it was in my hand, I couldn’t stop imagining the taste of him - warm, salty, and just out of reach.

Pierre’s not just my roommate - he’s a culinary god with a body that belongs in an apron and nothing else. He’s always in the kitchen, teasing me with samples. Licking things off spoons. Letting things drip. And suddenly, I couldn’t stop imagining what it’d be like to get a sample of him.

When he caught me with my lips a little too close to his leftovers, I thought I was done for. Instead, he offered a taste.

Now the kitchen’s not the only place where things are heating up. One mouthful turned into a feast. One finger became a helping hand. And now, I’m not sure if I’m his roommate, his experiment… or his dessert.

All I know is, he’s feeding something I never knew I needed - filling me one steamy bite at a time.