THE NEW ROOMMATE
PART 1


When I put the ad in the Village Voice advertising for a new
roommate I, of course, said I was a gay man.  But I did not say
that I was black.  It's not that I'm ashamed to be black I'm as
proud to be black as I am to be gay.  But there are guys who just
wouldn't have answered the ad if I'd said that; it's a simple
fact.  And, just as important, it gave me an advantage during
that first crucial meeting.  You'll see what I mean soon.

The first couple of guys were nice enough, but not really what I
was looking for in a roommate.  Ah, but the forth.  His name was
Frank and he was about 5' 8", dark brown hair and eyes, slim,
early twenties, really cute.  The look on his face when I first
opened the door and introduced myself was priceless.   He
obviously assumed I was white when we spoke on the phone and he
was trying very hard to pretend he wasn't surprised, that he
didn't care about such things.  I could see he wanted to please
me.  Perfect.

I showed him around, checking out his cute little butt just
enough for him to notice a bit.  He blushed.  I knew then and
there that I had him.

"And this is your room, Mr. Bra---"

"Marvin," I interrupted, "call me Marvin.  I can't be that much
older than you."

"I'm 22," Frank said.

"And I'm 29" I said putting a hand on his shoulder.  "Why don't we
go downstairs and talk."

We want down to the living room and he sat on the sofa.  I put a
tape of classical music on the stereo and sat down across from
him in the love seat.  "I hope you don't mind the music," I said,
"I find it very soothing very relaxing."

"Its fine," Frank said.

"You seem a little nervous, is everything okay?"

"Sure," he said.

"It is a little warm in here, though," I got up then and took of
my sweater.  Underneath I had a too-tight white T-shirt that
showed my well-developed chest and arms quite nicely.  "Do you
want something to drink?" 

"No, that's okay," Frank said.

I sat down and we talked some more.  I smiled a lot and slowly I
managed to get him talking.  He was from Illinois and had moved
to the New York area the year before.  Right now he was living in
a tiny apartment in Washington Heights in Manhattan that he
shared with two other guys.  My duplex in Jersey City was a
palace in comparison.  He worked in some kind of publishing
company.  Didn't have a boyfriend.  There was a lot more I wanted
to know, but that would come soon enough.

I could tell from the way he was sitting that he was much more
relaxed.  "You seem a lot more comfortable now then when you
first arrived." I said.

"I guess I'm still pretty shy," he said, "meeting new people and
stuff."

"I understand," I said smiling and looking him straight in the
eyes.  "And just talking with someone can be so comfortable, so
relaxing.  And I bet the music has helped though I bet you've
forgotten it was even there.  I know how that is; you can be so
engrossed in something, or someone, and you just focus on them
and forget about everything else in the background.  But just
listen to the music for a moment.  Just listen to the sound, the
rhythm.  I bet you didn't know that there's a story being told
with the music.  Just concentrate on it for a moment.  Just tune
out everything else and listen.  Listen to the music.  And the
story it's telling.  Focus on it.  Just close your eyes for a
second so you just tune everything else out.  Just gently close
your eyes and focus on the music, on the sound, on my voice.  You
can almost begin to hear the story now, can't you.  Yes.  Just
let everything else fade into the background and focus on the
music.  On the story.  Just listen.  It's about a boy.  A boy
lost in the woods late, late at night.  That's right, just
listen, just relax.  The boy is all alone in the woods, the cool
dark woods.  You can see it now, can't you?  Yes, just focus on
the music.  The woods are so quiet, so peaceful, so serene.  But
he hears a voice, a deep, soft voice calling to him.  And he goes
toward the voice.  Deeper and deeper into the soft, dark woods he
follows the voice and goes deeper and deeper and deeper."

During this whole time I had been pitching my voice lower and
softer and deeper.  I knew I had a deep, sexy voice I'd been told
so many times.  One guy had once said I'd make a great hypnotist,
I just smiled at him when he'd said that.

"Yes, there is only the voice and the music.  Why don't you open
your eyes again, Frank."

The room was pretty dim, but he blinked several times before he
could get his eyes open.  And they couldn't even open all the
way.  "That was very soothing," I continued, staring into eyes
even harder now, "very soothing to just close your eyes and
listen to the music, and my voice."

"Yeah," he said in a sleepy voice.

"Yes, and I'd like to ask you some  more questions, but you seem
so relaxed.  So deeply relaxed just sitting on the sofa.  Feeling
the soft, supple leather against your arms.  I'll bet you haven't
even noticed till just now how soft and relaxing the sofa is. 
But as you breathe in now it seems like the softest, most
comfortable thing you've ever sat in.  Yes?"

"Yes," Frank said.  His eyes were blinking quite a bit now and
his mouth had fallen open.

"I know you want to keep talking and answer all my questions
Frank, but I can see how relaxed you are.  Your eyes look so
heavy, I bet you're having so much trouble keeping them open. 
That's okay.  Whenever you want to, you can just let your heavy
eyes close.  It's okay if you want to just let go and sleep. 
Just go deeper and deeper into my voice and let your heavy, heavy
eyes close and sleep, Frank."

He was blinking rapidly now and his head was starting to loll.

"It's okay to just go to sleep now, Frank.  Deep, deep sleep. 
Deeper and deeper.  That's so good, Frank.  It feels so good to
sleep now, Frank.  Deeper and deeper and deeper."

His eyes were shut tight now and his chin was against his chest. 
I kept talking for a while, taking him deeper and deeper.  He was
very responsive.  His arm became stiff  and immobile at my
suggestion and when I "numbed" it, he didn't even flinch when I
poked him with a needle.  He was very, very deep.

"I'm going to ask you some more questions, Frank and you want to
answer them very much.  You will feel so good answering my
questions completely truthfully.  You will feel no shyness, no
embarrassment or modesty when you answer my questions.  And you
will feel so good when you answer them completely honestly, so
very, very good."

"Yes."

"Do you like my apartment, Frank?"

"Yes."

"In fact, if you think about it you'll realize you love it, yes. 
Think about it for a moment, Frank and you'll realize you love
it.  You've never felt this good anyplace else."

After a moment he said, "I love this apartment.  I've never felt
this good anyplace else."

"That's right, Frank.  And as we speak you will love it more and
more.  More and more."

"More and more"

"So, you want very much to live here, Frank.  Don't you?"

"Yes."

"And you like me too, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Are you attracted to me, Frank."

"Yes," he said without any hesitation.  This was almost too
perfect.

"I want you to think about me for a moment now, Frank.  About my
body dark and muscular.   Think about running your hands across
my chest.  About me holding you in my arms.  Think about my lips,
soft and full.  What would it feel like to kiss them."

Though Frank's head was hanging loosely down, a bulge in his
pants was quite evident now.

"Imagine what my cock is like, Frank.  How big, how dark is it
cut or uncut.  How would it feel pressing against your lips. 
Keep thinking about these things, Frank.  In fact, once you move
in, you will think about them a lot won't you?  And you will be
moving in, won't you?"

"Yes."

And I smiled.

TO BE CONTINUED 

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