"Yaaaaayh!" With that sound, I knew that Peter was fulfilling his agreement and was prancing about in the living room in a revealing pair of underwear. I got up, pulled on a robe, and walked out of my bedroom to get some coffee and to fulfill my part of the bargain.

Peter was an excellent student, very bright and quite talented, but his main problem was money. He left home, or to be more precise, his home left him, when he turned eighteen, and he survived on various governmental programs and financial aid at school until he met me. I was looking for a roommate, and was delighted by Peter's wit, intelligence, and especially good looks. When I met him the first time, he was 20, and already his body was muscling up nicely. Now he was 22 and had the body of a greek statue. But, as usual, he had very little money and was about to be evicted from his apartment.

After reviewing my own financial picture, I asked him how much a month he could afford. "Only about $350 or so," he replied, "I've got to pay off a credit card as well as some traffic tickets." We made a pre-move agreement that $350.00 would be sufficient for now, and moved in together. Five months later, Peter's money virtually dried up, leaving him with just enough money for gas and a burger once in a while for lunch.

He was the one who proposed our current agreement. Peter was straight, and had a Japanese girlfriend, but he also tended to spend very little time with her because he didn't have enough money for dates and other things that she expected. He was home quite often, and spent most of the time studying or working out on the Soloflex I had in the living room.

I got some coffee, grabbed the paper from outside, and sat down in the living room. A few moments later, Peter came up to me, his equipment outlined nicely in the filled pouch of his fitted boxer briefs, the sculpted mounds of his muscular ass stretching the fabric. His thighs, hairy and muscular, were built from years of soccer and track at his previous high school and at college, while his flat belly and hard pecs were a product of his current weight training program.

Peter presented himself to me, and I gave his equipment a soft appreciative squeeze. His eyes framed the smile on his lips as he turned around and presented his ass. That usually got a light slap, but today his briefs fit so well that I grabbed his ass with both hands and squeezed, the muscles flexing there and all over his body. Now I gave him a light slap, his signal that he could return to his room to get dressed.

When Peter returned from school, he would begin his workout, timing it so that I would arrive in time to watch him as I made dinner. He wore only a pair of stretchy grey gym shorts, completely form fitted so that his muscular ass and full equipment was displayed as he pumped or jogged on the exercise machines I had in the den alcove just off the kitchen. Mirrors and special lighting made sure that I had excellent views of his body at all times as he worked out, and usually by the time I had dinner ready he'd completed his sets. He would hand me one of the fresh white towels from the stack beside the door to the exercise room, and I'd wipe him down carefully, enjoying the tactile feel of his body under the terry cloth. When I was done, he'd take the towel and dry off whatever equipment he'd used, toss the dirty towel into the hamper, and then sit down to dinner with me. We'd chat about school and work, then after helping me clear off the dishes and load the dishwasher, he removed his shoes and socks, then stood before me for the next part of our agreement. I reached between his slightly spread arms at his sides and grasped the waistband of the still sweaty workout shorts, then pulled these down over his hairy pumped thighs to his ankles. He'd balance on one foot, with one arm lightly on my shoulder as I helped him step out of his shorts, then I'd "inspect" the benefits of his workout. He would almost always have added some muscle somewhere, or toned a section that was already in great shape. I would play with his balls a bit while I examined his cock, then he would turn around and I'd fondle the hairy orbs of his ass, pulling them apart to rub my fingers over his sweaty, hairy asshole. In the beginning of our agreement, Peter had flinched when I pressed my fingertip against his rosebud, but now he almost seemed to bend over a bit more and many times I would feel the hole loosen slightly as if it wanted my finger inside it.

At this point we would walk to the bathroom, and I'd start the water for his shower. When the temperature was warm enough but not too hot he'd step inside and I'd adjust the handheld unit so that I could wet his body all over. I would wet his hair last, and then give him a shampoo, enjoying how he would bend so that I could reach the top of his head without struggling. After rinsing out the shampoo and then conditioner, I would wet a shower pouf and then fill it with moisturizing body soap, specially formulated for male bodies, and having a nice spicy scent that went well with Peter's body scent. I scrubbed his body well, working the lather deep into his pits, crotch and ass, as well as making sure that his toes and fingers were well cleansed. He used to complain that the pouf irritated his cock head, and I would just rub his head with a washcloth to demonstrate how soft the pouf really was in comparison. Once or twice a month I would bring him to climax by stroking his cock wrapped in the soap filled pouf while I rubbed a finger full of soapy suds into his asshole. Since our agreement period for the day ended when I got him to cum, I would wait until much later to bring him off.

When the shower was completed, I would dry him off with a fluffy white bathsheet and then inspect his body again. This time the inspection was more invasive, and once or twice a month I'd bring Peter off this way, a couple of fingers up his butt while I licked and sucked his freshly washed cock and balls. Most of the time, though, when he was dry and his hair was combed the way he liked it, he would walk naked to the living room with a fresh towel and various massage lotions and oils. He would set down the oils on the low table before the couch, then spread out the towel so that he would lay parallel to it. Lying face down, I would begin with his shoulders and back, working the strong muscles hard enough to loosen and relax them. I would move down his back, stroking outward to his sides and down to just where the swell of his ass began. I would then skip over his ass to work the backs of his legs, his calves and thighs works of Greek sculpture. I would massage his arms and legs with enough oil or lotion to make sure that I wouldn't pull on his body hair too much, his skin usually soaked up enough during the massage that the towel didn't have too much to absorb. Finally, I'd work the glutes, harder and harder until he began to groan, then I would lightly massage his perineum, the area between the asshole and testicles, with short jabs and slow strokes downward from the pucker to the ball sac. He always loved this part, even though he told me after the first time that he felt very vulnerable having another man stroke him exactly there.

I would have him roll over, then I would deeply massage his hands and feet, his favorite areas next to his back and upper thighs, pressing into the palms and soles of his appendages as I was taught in massage school. He loved this part, and claimed that I never pressed hard enough, so I would really work on hitting his threshold without causing him pain. One of my favorite parts, next to working his asshole, cock and balls, was massaging his pecs and abs, and this would occupy me until he finally grunted that perhaps I'd worked them long enough. His pecs were sculpted works of art, just lightly dusted with body hair, but shieldlike on his chest, proudly standing forth with the brownish-red nipples juttinga good half inch from the massive muscle. The hair collected in his "cleavage," and thickened as it ran down the natural valley of his abs, getting any wider until spreading over his public area. I could run my hands over his pecs and abs for hours, following the line of hair back and forth until he almost begged me to stop. Sometimes he had to.

Anyway, now I would decide whether to let him off easy or to make him honor the full letter of the agreement. Most of the time during the month, I would oil his cock carefully and, cupping his balls lightly in my other hand, I would slowly stroke and pull him into orgasm, sometimes stroking his perineum with a thumb or perhaps inserting a finger into his asshole and stroking his prostate just before he came. His jets were always long and full, and with each practiced stroke or jab I could get a bit more out before I could feel his cock soften, I would wipe off his chest and anywhere his liquid had spattered, then give him a brief kiss and let him rest until he was ready to move. I sometimes jacked off as well, the sight of all that man cream on his abs and between his pecs setting me off and I would mix my own cum into his, rubbing my cock about his chest and causing him to smile. However, at least twice a month I would call on the full agreement, and he'd learned to accept it, considering all the pleasure I brought him during the other times of the month as well as during the full agreement.

He would know when I wanted the full agreement when I stripped naked after he rolled onto his back. I would finish the general massage, then would slowly move his legs up so that his asshole was displayed. He got good at grasping behind his knees and holding himself open to me while I stroked and fondled his ass and poked around his asshole with my fingers. I was always careful to use plenty of oil on him, because I wanted this to be as pleasurable as any of the rest of the massage I'd given him. After I was able to insert both my thumbs into his asshole and pull gently without causing him distress, I would slowly withdraw my hands and begin greasing up my cock. I would then let him feel my cock and decide if there was enough lube, 90% of the time he'd nod and, after giving me a couple of good strokes, I would settle his legs about my shoulders and start to push inside of him.

I was always tender and careful with Peter, and he knew it, for I never slammed into him or attempted to rush him no matter how horny I was . When I had slipped entirely into him, I would bend down and let my chest press against his as I let him adjust to my nine fat inches inside him, then sit back to start fucking him. The very first time I think he was surprised how good it felt after the first pain of penetration, because I remember very clearly his eyes widening then turning dreamy as I stroked his prostate with the head of my dick. My balls slapped in time against his asshole as I thrust in and pulled out, his asshole flexing as if to hold me inside him. Just before I was ready to cum, I would sit back and pull him against my thighs, and begin to jack him off, my cock pressed hard against his prostate and his abs stretched beautifully for my view. Little thrusts with my hips and a firm grip usually brought him and I both to a shuddering climax, and as we emptied our balls together, I think he felt just that much closer to me. When we'd finished cumming, I would slowly pull out and lay on top of him awhile, letting the warmth of our chests and crotches continue the feeling. One evening we fell asleep that way, and the following morning painfully laughed as we attempted to separate from each other as our body hair had been glued together with our cum.

I think that, in the long run, our agreement benefitted Peter as much as it did me, since after our year was up and he transferred to the university, he had a much better relationship with his new girlfriend and understood what it meant to be completely satisfied. I'm not sure if he ever found another man to fuck him, but once in a great while he'll write me and mention our agreement as being one of the best experiences he'd ever had in his youth. I know that it also helped me, for my current boyfriend even now stands before me as I write, his sweaty workout shorts waiting to be pulled off for my "inspection," and his cock and heavy balls thickening with anticipation.