Something About Lud
By J.D. Walker
There are roommates from hell, and then, there’s Ludwig Dreck, the blight of my existence, and the rancid, oozing cherry on top of a pile of refuse.
Lud was a nice enough guy, but damn. He took a dump with the door wide open most days, and refused to use the ventilation fan for some reason. At least there were two bathrooms, though one was only a powder room—no shower, and it didn’t have anything to help with the funk. No potpourri on Earth could fix that.
He chewed with his mouth open, slurped anything liquid, walked around in the buff, which would be a total turn-on if he showered more than once a week, as he was most definitely worth a second or third look. And he liked to jack off all loud and s**t—yes, I could hear him through the walls.
He had
