I was going back home from throwing some hoops with the guys one afternoon when I decided to drop in on Charlie and see how he was doing. He was a little high strung and had been having trouble with his latest live in of late. Denny, the live in, was a real cocky asshole, so sure of himself and going directly for what he wanted—and usually getting it—and taking advantage of everyone along the way. And he was messy. Charlie was so fussy about neatness that I knew this arrangement with Denny wasn't going to work out from the beginning.

The most irritating thing about Denny was that he had every reason to be cocky. He was a professional model and had the perfect body—with an unbelievable long and thick cock to match. He made my knees tremble with desire as much as the next guy and I disliked him doubly for this reason.

Denny answered the door, decked out only in a bath towel.

"Charlie's not here," he said, "But he should be back soon. Come on in and wait. He'll be a pissy little bitch if he misses you."

"No, that's okay, I'll . . ."

"I said come on in," and he pulled me across the threshold and closed the door.

I perched on a sofa near the door, as Denny padded back toward the hallway to the bedrooms.

"I was just taking a shower. You can entertain yourself . . ." and he turned in the doorway to the hall and let his towel drop, revealing his horse-hung cock and, with a big grin, said, ". . . or you can shower with me and entertain me."

"Naw, thanks," I croaked. "I'll just wait for Charlie. You know how upset he'd be if he found one of his friends messing around with you."

"Ah, well, your loss, stud," Denny said with a laugh and turned and padded down the hallway to the bath at the end, twirling his towel in an outstretched hand and showing a luscious bulbous butt.

Less than ten minutes later, I heard Denny calling me from down the hall.

"Could ya come here, please? I want to show you something."

I sighed and stood up and walked half way down the hallway. The bathroom door was open. Unexpectedly, Denny entered the hallway from the door to a bedroom close at hand. He was wet and still naked.

"What?" I started to say.

"This is what I wanted to show you," he said with a grin. He was wanking his dong, which had hardened out to a good ten inches. He had a tube of lubricant in his hands and was already greasing up his shaft. "You wouldn't take a shower with me, and all I could think of was bonking you while I was in the shower. And see what you did to me? So, what are you going to do about it?"

"Hey look, Charlie is . . ."

"Charlie isn't here," Denny interjected. "And I don't want Charlie right now. I want you." With that he pushed me up against the hallway wall with a strong forearm, my cheek against the cold plaster, and he worked long fingers under the hem of my gym shorts and up between my butt cheeks to my asshole. All I was wearing under my shorts was a jock strap. Although I