The Perfect Life for Davey Ch. 03

When my alarm went off in the morning, the sound didn't register at first. In about the same moment I realized what it was, I heard Tyler's voice above me, mumbling, "Davey." I rolled out of bed and grabbed my phone sitting on my desk, and turned the alarm off. I sat back down on the bed, sighed, and quietly said, "Ohhh... God."

"What time is it?" Tyler asked.

"7:30."

His arm came into view above me, and he pointed in the general direction of his desk. "Look at my schedule over there. What time is my first class?"

I got up from my bed and went to his desk, picked up the schedule, and looked. "9:30."

"What time's your first?"

"8:30."

"Mmm. Wake me up before you leave the room, then. If I'm not up."

"OK."

Thankful of the likelihood I wouldn't have to deal with Tyler for the next hour, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I finished, I grabbed a clean towel and washrag, set the towel on the sink, closed the bathroom door, and turned on the light. I got into the shower with the washrag, and ran the water. When it was the right temperature, I got under it and let it run over my hair. As I started to soap up the washrag, I heard a noise. I stopped to listen, and realized it was a knocking on the bathroom door. Figuring it must be Tyler, I called out, "Yeah!?"

The knocking continued, so I said, "Come in!" I didn't hear the door open, and in a moment I heard more knocking. Annoyed, I pulled the shower curtain back, leaned forward and said, "Come in! It's not locked!" I could only hear a faint voice, and no one was coming in. So I turned the water off, stepped out of the tub, and, naked and dripping on the floor, I opened the door. At that point I realized Tyler could reach the door from his top bunk, and he had been knocking but was still in his bed. "Yeah?" I said.

"Door stays open, Davey. Remember? I said yesterday, we don't ever need to close the bathroom door."

It was a long moment before I could process the fact that he actually woke up when he realized I was in the bathroom showering with the door closed, and troubled himself to lean over and knock on the door from his bed, to tell me to open it. "Oh," I said. "Um..."

"You're forgetting the rules already? Door stays open, Davey, it's just us. We don't need privacy."

"Oh, I ... um... I did forget that, I'm sorry. Habit. You know."

"Come over here to the other side of the beds, Davey."

"Well... I'm all wet."

"That's OK. It's just water. You can drip, it's OK. Don't get a towel. Come over here."

I thought, What in the hell for!?! But I didn't dare ask. I still had the washrag in my hand, which was probably dripping as much water as my body was. I walked gingerly, as though doing so would minimize the amount of water that ended up on the floor. I came around to the other side of the beds, between the beds and the desks. Tyler said, "The penalty for breaking my rules or not doing what you're told, Davey, is you won't get to cum as much. Did you appreciate getting to cum last night?"

"Uhhhhh..."

"What, you didn't? You don't like cumming? Hahaha. I know that can't be right. Everyone likes cumming."

"Well... ummmm... I mean... I would rather... um... OK, can I be honest?"

"Of course."

"I don't wanna cum from YOU ... you know ... jerking me. And ... I don't want ... your butt in my face."

"You let me worry about how you cum, Davey. I'll take care of that part. If you wanna get off, you'll do it how I want."

Oh, shit. His talk is making my balls start to tingle. Shit. Shit!! Not again. I was gonna start to get hard. Fuck. No. NO!! Go down, god dammit!

At that point, he thrust a foot out from under his sheet. "Kiss my foot, Davey, and tell me thank you for letting you get off last night."

I scoffed... out loud this time, taken off guard by this latest outrageous ... command, I guess you'd say. With a tone of warning in his voice, he said, "Davey."

"OK," I sighed. I walked over to his foot, looked at it for a moment like it might bite me or something, and gave it a quick, tentative kiss. "Thank you for letting me get off last night."

"Kiss it some more. Kiss it a few times."

Sniveling, I obeyed. I kissed his foot five or six times. On about the sixth kiss I realized my dick was fully hard. I was just glad it was way below Tyler's sightline. "OK," he said, "You can get back in the shower." As I started to walk back, past the beds, he said, "How 'bout a thank you?"

"Oh. Uh, thank you."

"Wait," he said, and quickly rolled over to hang his head over the side of the bed. It actually blocked my path and prevented me from proceeding further. He looked down. "Ahhhh. Your little guy is fully awake, huh?"

I stood frozen, still awkwardly holding the dripping rag in one hand. Tyler reached down over the edge of his bed, and I flinched when I felt him slapping at my dick lightly. It bounced, and he slapped it again on its way back up. "What are you, a foot fetishist?" he asked, turning to me and wearing a smug grin.

"No."

"Hmm, well, I don't know." He playfully batted my dick around a little more, as I just stood still and thought, Ohh, please stop. Just let me get back to my shower, please. "I know the rest of my body smells... and tastes... great. I never really thought about my feet, though. I wonder if they smell and taste good after I play basketball. We'll have to find that out. I'm gonna let you get a taste of 'em today."

I thought, Oh, God. Are you kidding me? A *taste* of them?

"Tyler... I'm not *gay*."

"Dude, we've already established that. I know that. Well... actually I guess I don't *know* that for sure. I don't really have any proof you're not. Come to think of it, you didn't show much interest in those girls yesterday. But, whatever. I believe you. It doesn't matter anyway."

"Well... would you please stop touching my dick? That's ... I mean, to me, that's GAY."

"No, it isn't. I'm just lookin' out for you, dude. I'm gonna make sure-"

"I don't... *sigh* ... never mind."

"You're gettin' attitude, Davey, I don't know... Whiner!" he said, amplifying with a harder slap to my dick. "Complainer!" he said, slapping it again. "Rule-breaker!" giving it a third slap. "All right, Davey. Since you're being so difficult, I'm not gonna let you get off today. If you're good, I'll get you off tomorrow. So remember," he said, putting a pointed finger a centimeter from my nose, "Keep your hand off that thing. You don't touch without roomie's permission."

He continued pointing, giving me a stern look, until I said, "OK."

"OK, back in the shower. Don't worry about this water on the floor until you're done with your shower. As soon as you're out and dry, let me know."

I hurried back to the bathroom, and actually reached for the door on my way in. Again, habit. Realizing I was about to break the (ridiculous) open-door rule again, I retracted my hand. I stepped back into the tub, pulled the curtain closed, turned the water back on, and finished my shower.

When I finished, I pulled the curtain back, grabbed my towel off the sink, and dried myself. I dried each foot as I stepped out, trying to find dry patches of the floor on which I could step. With the towel wrapped around my waist, I said, "OK... Tyler? I'm done. And I'm dry."

He was still lying in his bed, and I heard him say, "OK. Hang your towel up, and before you get dressed, you need to lick up all the water on the bathroom floor, and out here, too. That way I'll have a dry floor when I get outta bed."

Oh, God. Do these ridiculous, humiliating tasks ever end? I just stood in place for a moment.

"That'll remind you to keep the bathroom door open. Plus ... licking the floor is probably a good thing for me to have you do... you know, any time there's something on it. So we can keep it nice and clean."

*Sigh*. Floor-licking. As a regular chore.

"Can't I please just wipe it up with my towel?"

"No, dude, it's the floor. You don't wanna get your towel dirty."

So it was better to get the dirt from the floor in my MOUTH? I sighed, but ... knowing I'd have no choice, and fearing Tyler would end up making me do something even MORE ridiculous if I didn't just hurry up and get the job done, I dropped to my hands and knees and started licking water off the bathroom floor. There was enough of it that I knew I couldn't just soak it up, like my tongue was a sponge, so at times I slurped, trying to draw in as much as I could.

Since Tyler didn't hear anything for a minute or so, he asked, "Are you licking?"

"Yes."

"Good roomie. See, doing what you're told is not that hard. Just gotta do it."

As I inched my way out of the bathroom, working my way through the trail I left in the room, I realized this was going to take longer than I expected. I was already behind schedule since Tyler interrupted my shower. I wish he had just stayed asleep, I was a little worried now that he'd keep bugging me and make me have to skip breakfast to get to my first class on time.

Tyler said, "I'm sure you'll have to make a second pass to get it completely dry. You could just use your cheeks, and rub them on the floor to wipe it up and get it dry all the way. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I said, and continued my task, trying to get it done as fast as possible... and cursing my hard dick! It was hard AGAIN. From being on my hands and knees licking water off the fucking floor?? How could I ever convince Tyler that I did NOT wanna do this kinda stuff, if my dick seemed to have a mind of its own?

At least if Tyler looked down at me now, my upper body would hide my dick. I didn't think he could see it from any vantage point in his bed. Please don't get out bed, I thought. After licking and slurping up as much as I could (and some of it was a little bit soapy, because of the soapy water that dripped off the rag, so that didn't taste very good), I used my cheeks, as Tyler advised, to wipe the floor on my return pass to the bathroom. I also used my lips a little, sort of pursing them, and rubbing the floor with them. I even tried to use my forehead a little, but that was awkward, and a little water dripped from my wet hair, so it was also counterproductive.

From my hands and knees, on the bathroom floor, I called to Tyler. "OK... I think I'm done. Can I get dressed now?"

"Yes. You can."

I stood up, and without really thinking, I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around my waist before walking back into the room. As I picked out clothes, Tyler said, "That was good that you asked permission like that. That shows you're trying to be a good roomie for me. I think we'll just make a rule ... one that will actually help you remember to keep the other rules in mind ... basically before you do anything, you should ask my permission."

I was turned away from Tyler at that moment, and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, and sighed through my nose. I just wanted to get dressed and get the fuck OUT of this room.

"Of course you don't have to ask to do regular chores, like straightening up. But... basically... when in doubt, ask for permission. Leaving the room... going to the bathroom... studying... watching TV ... making a phone call... just any time you're thinkin' of doing something, and you're not sure if I want you to, ask. That'll help us both a lot. It'll help you remember I'm in charge, and it'll keep you from getting in trouble and having to be punished."

Again, as I listened to this ... ABSURD ... talk from my roommate ... Jesus, where the hell does he get off, thinking he can just ... totally control everything I do like this!? But as I listened, I could only sigh silently, knowing that if I allowed him to hear my exasperation, he would only find some way to make this whole thing worse.

"You understand?" he asked.

"Yes."

"You're gonna be a good roomie, then, and always ask my permission to do things?"

"Yes."

"Good. Come kiss my foot, then, and say 'Thank you for making good rules that will help us get along and be great roommates'."

Having just pulled my briefs up, and with my pants in my hands preparing to put them on, I again let out a silent sigh, and walked over beside the bunk beds. I tried to hold my pants in such a way as to block Tyler's view of my hard dick. As he continued relaxing in bed, I stepped alongside his bed, and brought my face up to his foot. "Kiss the bottom of it, and face me."

I kissed, and said, "Thank you... for making good rules that will... help us get along... and be great roommates." I kissed again, for good measure, and started to walk back over to my dresser. But I only took about half-a-step, before I stopped myself, and said, "Um... can I continue getting dressed?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

Returning to my dresser, I pulled my pants on, put on a belt, buckled it, put on a shirt, and then sat down on the futon with my socks, to pull them on. By that time, Tyler was sitting up in bed. "Bring me my phone, Davey," he said, and I got back up to walk to his desk and get his phone. "You thought it was OK to sit on the futon without asking permission?"

I stopped in my tracks for a second, cast a pair of questioning eyes his direction briefly, then reached for his phone. "I'm sorry," I said. "I... um... I guess I didn't..."

"I woulda let you, of course. It's just... you know, you should probably play it safe."

As I handed him his phone, I said, "Um... OK... I'm sorry. Is it OK if I sit on the futon to put my socks and shoes on?"

"Yes. Kiss my feet. Both of them, on the bottom, and say thank you."

Since his legs were now dangling over the bed, I had to bend down and brace myself with one knee on my bed. Then I put my head under one foot, and kissed it. "Thank you." I then kissed the other foot, and thanked him again.

I walked back to the futon to put my socks and shoes on. "Hmm. 8:08," he said. "Your class is at 8:30?"

"Yeah."

"OK. Hurry up and get dressed, 'cause I'm gonna need you to run down to get me some breakfast and bring it back here."

"I won't have time, I need to eat, too, and it takes like 15 minutes-"

"*Sighhhh* Davey, Davey, Davey... OK, now... let's see... next time you get to cum is gonna be Wednesday."

"But-"

"Make that Thursday. Break the rules, Davey, you get punished. No cumming 'til Thursday. And I don't think you're gonna like that, 'cause *I'm* gonna get off. Probably 6 or 7 times by the time you do, haha. And you'll be here to help with that, so..."

"OK. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Uh, like a bacon and egg biscuit, I guess. You can get it from the food court where we went yesterday. It won't take long. If you hustle, you can get yourself something, too, and walk fast to class. You'll make it."

"OK."

"Take a couple bucks out of my wallet there. Oh, get me a cup of coffee, too. Three creams, three sugars."

"OK."

When I returned to the room with his breakfast, he was sitting on the futon watching TV, and I handed him his biscuit and coffee. I then hurried back to my desk and loaded my backpack with my books and notebooks. I tossed the biscuit I bought myself into the front pocket; I could fish it out later and eat it on the walk to class. I checked my phone. 8:24.

I started to hurry past Tyler and out of the room. About a foot from the door, I stopped, whipped around, and said, "Oh. Um... can I go to class now?"

"Uh, just a minute. You got your schedule there?"

"It's in my bag."

"Get it out real quick. Let me look at it."

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and set it down hard on the floor. Squatting, I unzipped it and frantically tried to locate the paper my printed schedule was on. When I found it, I practically threw it at Tyler.

"OK," he said, "8:30, 11:30, and 1:30. OK, so after your 8:30 come back here, and I'll see you here at 10:30." He handed my schedule back. I snatched it from his hand, stuffed it in my bag, and zipped it back up. Standing, and slinging the backpack over my shoulder, I asked again, "Can I go now?"

"Yes. Have a good class, roomie."

"Thank you."

After stuffing the uneaten portion of my biscuit (about two-thirds of it) in the front pocket of my bag, and after shaking my shirt a little to cool myself after a very fast, and somewhat sweaty, walk, I entered my first classroom at about 8:33. Trying to keep my head low and not be noticed, I quickly found a seat. I was glad to spend the next 47 minutes doing what I came to TU to do: learn, and study. Of course, the first 20 minutes or so was just policy and such, and a preview of what the course was about. But at least it got my mind off my crazy roommate.

When I got back to the room, I relished the quiet, and looked forward to the next hour alone. I saw Tyler had left the wrapper to his biscuit on the futon. As I picked it up, I noticed a piece of egg on the floor, so I picked that up, put it in the wrapper, and crumpled it up. I took it to the bathroom waste can, and tossed it in. At that point I noticed the plastic bottle from the night before, so I took that out, to take it into the hallway and deposit it in the recycle bin.

Tyler's coffee cup sat on the stand beside the futon, and when I picked it up, I could feel that it wasn't quite empty. Not sure if he might want to finish it later, I set it back down. Tyler left a wet towel in the middle of the floor. I picked that up, and hung it in the bathroom. There wasn't any other mess in the room, except for our unmade beds. I preferred to make my bed, but I hadn't had time that morning. So I made my bed.

Just as I finished, I heard my phone beep. When I looked at it, I saw I had a text. From Tyler. Oh, that's right. He has my number. It said, "r u back in the room?"

I texted back, "yes".

"straitning it up?"

"yes"

"good roomie. i dropped a piece of egg on the floor did u lick that up?"

Oh, shit. Thinking fast, I texted back, "not yet"

"u will tho?"

"yes"

"remember all spills u use ur tongue"

"can i get a broom and mop to clean the floors?"

"yes but even then all spills u lick"

"ok"

Ugh. This was so ridiculous. I sighed, and put my phone down. OK. Now, for some study time at my desk. I got my notes out from the class I just returned from, and pulled out the syllabus to re-read it and look over the topics and assignments for the semester. I entered test dates in my phone.

Then Tyler texted again: "egg licked up?"

Oh, for Christ's sake. I started to reply... then I thought, I don't know... if I lie and say yes... somehow he'll know. He might know. I'm not a very good liar. I certainly can't lie to someone's face. They always know. But ... could someone even tell if three letters of a text I send is a lie?

I bolted up out of my desk chair, and ran to the bathroom waste basket. I pulled the biscuit wrapper out, opened it, and rushed over to the futon. Picking out the same piece of egg I'd put in the wrapper before, I dropped it on the floor. I went down to my hands and knees, bent down, and scooped the piece of egg into my mouth. I considered spitting it into the wrapper, but then had a sudden fear Tyler would ask for details, or something. So I swallowed it. Holding the crumpled wrapper in my hand, I rushed back over to my desk, and quickly typed out "yes".

There. I told the truth ... and followed my roommate's stupid rules.

"good roomie"

I tossed the phone on the desk, and scoffed. Angrily throwing the wrapper into the trash can under my desk, I sat back down to resume what I was doing. Then I heard a beep. Picking up the phone, I read, "anything u need to ask my permission for?"

*Sighhhh* I texted back, "is it ok if i study now til u get back?"

"take off all ur clothes. get naked first, then u can study"

Ohhhhhh... for Christ's sake!

I texted back "ok"

With a defeated sigh, I undressed, then sat back down at my desk, stark naked.