It’s not that Alex was a prude–hell, he masturbated plenty. There wasn’t any reason why Harry couldn’t jack off too. The problem was the damn smell of it! Ever since the day he’d moved into the house with him, the whole house stank of it. Sure, he hadn’t known what the smell was at first, only that it had come largely from Harry’s room and the bathroom. It wasn’t until Alex had caught him at it (well, “caught him” was one way of phrasing it–really, he’d been crouching outside the slightly open door, watching his housemate tug on his cock while he was on the bed, well positioned to give him a view) and as soon as he’d shot, the smell had smacked him in the face like a ton of bricks.

Of course, the real problem wasn’t that he could smell it–the problem was how it smelled. It smelled amazing. It smelled like cum, sure–rank and a bit cheesy–but for some reason, it made his mouth water. It made him want to jack off too. He couldn’t let Harry know, of course–Harry would probably think he’s a fag, if he knew how much he wanted his cum. If he knew that he’d snuck into his room while he wasn’t home, and stolen his still wet cumrag, and sucked on it for a few hours, milking his own cock for all it was worth. That was something a fag would totally do, right? But he wasn’t a fag. He couldn’t help it if Larry’s cum just smelled really good to him. He was hoping that if he could just taste it enough, he could stop thinking about it, but if fact, getting a taste only made it worse. It was starting to become the only thing he could think about. He started watching Larry more often through the cracked door, still pretending to himself that his roommate had no idea he was watching, even though he spent most of his time watching Alex. Finally, one night, Larry came, but instead of shooting into the rag like usual, he shot it into his hand, and held it out to the door, “Well come on pig, if you want it so badly, get in here and eat it all up.”

Alex tried to resist, but the scent was overwhelming. He crawled into the room and licked all the fresh cum from his roommate’s hand, jacking off his own cock as he did, and the taste of it fresh–his head couldn’t take it. He just kept licking Larry’s fingers clean, his entire mind focusing in on that single act. Off in the distance, he could sense that Larry was talking to him, telling him things, but he couldn’t think about anything beyond licking those fingers. And when he finally stopped licking, he crawled back to his room (for some reason, he wasn’t quite able to stand up and walk, an odder still, he didn’t find that fact the least bit strange) sat on the floor and started jacking off, over and over again, eating every load of cum that he produced, until it hurt to even touch his cock anymore. Then and only then was he able to heft himself up into bed and collapse from exhaustion, his arms burning, though when Larry came in and skull fucked him, he didn’t object. Why would he object to another opportunity to taste his delicious cum?

From that day on, it became harder and harder for Alex to deny that he was anything but a faggot at heart. He would beg Larry for his cum, he would do anything for another taste of it. He took over the household chores, he cooked dinner, he gave him massages and foot rubs, all so he might have the privilege of sucking a load of cum from Larry’s cock. Still, he told himself that it couldn’t get worse than this, right? At least, until it did. Suddenly, it wasn’t just Larry’s cum he smelled, but everyone’s cum. And they all smelled different, and they all smelled delicious. It was getting harder and harder for him to think about anything other than cum, and Larry only made it worse by dressing him up in his leather gear, driving them to the fetish clubs in the city, and making him beg for cum all night long. The words CUM PIG scrawled across his forehead (Larry had told him that once he’d earned enough money as a cum dump, he’d get it tattooed on there properly) and who knew what else drawn on him, all the men would laugh, and he’d drink cum from any cock, because he wasn’t just a cum pig–he was Cum Pig–or at least that’s what Larry called him. And before too long, it was the only name he could remember, as he crawled around the house, oinking and grunting, sniffing around for his next load of cum.