Last night I was faced with a boundary issue; is it okay to shag a housemate? First, though, let me introduce the House: there’s Grumpy, there’s Sleazy and there’s Vanity (Snow White does crop up occasionally, but I won’t go into that now). That pretty much describes them, but I shall provide you with a bit of back-story (for the purpose of which, I shall be known as Cock). A young Sleazy met Happy; they fucked a bit and Happy became even happier, but sleazy got bored and moved on; Happy was not happy anymore and became Grumpy, but hung around and, eventually, moved into Sleazy’s castle. Years passed, with Grumpy growing even grumpier and Sleazy whisking younger and younger boys up into the tower, where he slept. Then, one day, a young prince named Vanity knocked at the Castle gates, seeking shelter. Both Sleazy and Grumpy were enchanted by the handsome prince, and Sleazy could see something of his younger self in Vanity. What the two had not foreseen, however, was that Vanity was a cruel sorcerer and soon had them in his power, slaves to his beauty. This story ends with a wise Queen who saw the good in them all and vowed to bring happiness to the Castle and so saw the arrival of Cock.

That was a year ago and I have to admit to falling under the spell of Vanity from time-to-time. He’s one of those guys who you can’t help being attracted to, but get annoyed at yourself for being too predictable and falling for his obvious tricks. I still haven’t worked out if he’s an incredibly effective and sophisticated cock-tease, playing sexual mind-games all the while, or just cute and dumb. He is physical perfection; about six foot; gym-toned, but not excessive; smooth; naturally tanned; boyish good looks; nice smile; great legs; a bubble-butt; and, I know for fact, a very big dick. He’s like the statue of David; he’s like that incredibly rich, chocolate-covered dessert at the fancy restaurant that you know is bad for you, but could you really deny yourself so much pleasure? We’ve never shagged; there’s been plenty of flirtation and near-misses, sexy moments in towels or undies, and we’ve seen each other in the buff, but never even so much as a kiss. If I’m honest I think that has more to do with him than me. He doesn’t chase; he waits for them to come to him, and they do, in droves. He wouldn’t make the first move.

So, back to last night; I’d come home after the pub a bit merry and was listening to music in bed. I heard Vanity come in a bit later (he’s no lightfoot) and a bit later again, there was a knock on my door. Vanity has been ‘seeing’ this guy for a few weeks; all a bit too much drama for such a short time if you ask me. Anyway, they’d had a big argument, blah, blah, blah. Vanity was, you might say, quite merry too. He offered me some vodka, which I accepted, and so went and got a couple of glasses and came back and sat on my bed (he does this a lot). Thing is, he wasn’t sitting on the end of my bed, he was lying across it, across me; it felt sexy and he started to say how he never meets anyone nice; how I’m nice; then the talking stopped and we were just looking at each other. It was a green light, or was it? I was feeling horny enough; I could see his bulge. A few seconds passed; he leaned even further into me; should I touch him? I still wasn’t sure; maybe the light was amber. I was going to do it; his face was close to mine now; I could just lean over and kiss him; it’s now or never. Next moment, he was up and saying “is this the new Goldfrapp album?”. Er, what? And that was it. Confused.