Tag Archives: college boy

Masseurs Gone Wild: The College Locker Room

Here’s the beginning of Masseurs Gone Wild: The College Locker Room, a hot new story by Happiest Ending!

 

“Oh shit, lemme tell Jeremy my dick got hard- Hang on.” Donald got up and poked his head out the door. He yelled, “Hey, Jeremy, you were wrong! Hey! You are a fucking idiot, man, I told you I can get hard for anything.”
Jeremy shouted something back. Ethan couldn’t hear what it was, but it made Donald guffaw, his thick body shaking as he did. Donald was a little ruddy right now, his rock-hard dick jutting out between his legs. He smiled at Ethan.
“Sorry, sorry, that’s my friend Jeremy. He’s a prickhole.” Donald knew that Ethan already knew Jeremy, he was just explaining because he forgot that fact. It was Jeremy who had urged Donald to come get a massage because Jeremy frequently did so.
“Sure, that’s fine. Just lay down, Donald. You have to stay still,” Ethan said.
Donald sheepishly laid back down on his belly on the table. He had such a perfectly thick ass that Ethan had to resist the urge to suck all the sweat off him. Donald was a rugby player for GHU, and Ethan was a masseur for the athletic department. He kneaded the flesh of Donald’s muscles. Donald closed his eyes, but he didn’t look particularly relaxed — he looked bored, like he was only doing this because someone had told him he should.
“Hey, do you massage girls too?”
“Yes,” Ethan said.
“Do you ever massage Katie Marleywine?”
“I’m not allowed to talk about other clients. What team is she on?”
“Oh, she doesn’t play any sports.”
Ethan sighed. “I work for the athletic department, Donald. If she’s not on a team, I can’t massage her.”
“But she’s like, superhot. If you were at a party, you’d offer to massage her. She’s so hot. She’s got tits that are like… amazing.” He thought for a long time but struggled to come up with any words to describe how awesome her tits were.
Ethan was shocked that Donald didn’t know he was gay. Ethan was slim, flamboyant, feminine. He normally never bothered to come out of the closet because it was obvious to everyone that he was gay.
In actuality, Ethan should have been even more shocked — Donald knew very well that Ethan was gay, he had simply forgotten. Donald’s friend Jeremy had urged him to come get a massage because it would lead to a happy ending, and Jeremy thought it would be hilarious if Donald got a handjob from a man. His teammates frequently dared each other to come let Ethan give them rimjobs (they had no reason to think Ethan would do so, they just thought the idea was funny). Donald had discussed Ethan being gay on several occasions, so there was no way he didn’t know.
But at the moment, Donald was thinking about girls. He had Katie Marleywine on the mind, and so it didn’t occur to him that Ethan was gay. How could anyone, he thought, not think Katie Marleywine was the most beautiful girl ever?
That was why his cock get hard. The more he thought about her, the harder his dick got, until it was sticking straight up and throbbing. Donald blushed.
“Donald, it’s okay-“
Donald sat up and looked at his dick. He smiled — he had no embarrassment. “Sorry, I get hard sometimes.” He got up again. “I’m-a go slap Jeremy in the face with it. I’ll be right back.”
“Wait-“

Ebony Jocks at the City Barbershop

Here’s a sample from the beginning of Ebony Jocks at the City Barbershop, a brand-new story of hot gay ebony urban fiction! It’s also part of the Gridiron Yards series of hardcore gay erotica about football jocks!

Willie could tell that the beefy young man waiting for a haircut wanted something more than a haircut. He had a feeling he knew what it was. But there was something alluring about a straight guy who was nervous about sex, so Willie didn’t hurry.

When another one of the barbers — Jameson — finished and offered his chair to the beefy young man, he shook his head and pointed to Willie as though it was a secret that he was waiting for him. Willie stuck his ass in the air and waved it around as he finished with the hair of the elderly man in his chair now.

The beefy young man tapped his feet. He was trying to look nonchalant, bobbing his head to the beat of the song on the radio. He pretended to be participating in the conversation Jameson was having with the third barber, Hardy.

But it was obvious he was bursting at the seams with anticipation. When Willie finally finished taking the money from the old man, the young buck leapt to his feet. He cleared his throat in a way that he surely hoped was not attention-grabbing but ended up making everyone else in the room look at him.

“Hey, uh… hi.”

“Hi! What’ll it be?” Willie smiled and giggled. He was the only gay man in the barbershop, so he was used to being the center of attention — he was the feminine element. This young beefy guy was clearly here hoping to get Willie to suck him off. That was not rare. But Willie liked to make his straight bait work for it.

“Uh… A special. A special haircut.” He spoke softly, which again drew much more attention than he had intended.

“Yo, Willie, just do it, man, quit torturin’ him,” Jameson said with a snicker.

“Do what, Jameson?” Willie asked with mock insouciance. He paused to take a long sip from the bottle of water on his counter.

Jameson rolled his eyes. He turned to the young man. “What’s yo’ name, nigga?”

“Lake.”

“Okay, Lake, this is Willie. Willie, this is Lake. Willie, it is obvious to everyone that Lake wants you to suck his dick but is too shy to ask. Lake, it is obvious to everyone but you that Willie wants to suck your dick and likes to tease you-“

“Shut up, Jameson, come on, I don’t go out to the nightclubs and tell fat chicks you don’t eat pussy worth a damn,” Willie said. He pushed Jameson away. Everyone else in the barbershop erupted in howls of laughter. Jameson just rolled his eyes, while the beefy college-age kid, Lake, looked so nervous he was going to faint.

“I never had no complaints!” Jameson said as he walked away. He continued to discuss eating pussy loudly with the other straight men, all of whom boasted so loud that Willie and Lake had to raise their voices to be heard.

“So… Lake… that’s a cute name,” Willie said.

“Oh. Thanks. My mom came up with it.”

“Were you conceived at a lake?”

Lake’s eyes opened wide. “I-I-I don’t… I don’t know.”

Willie giggled. “Haven’t you ever asked why she named you that?”

He shook his head. “I think she just likes it.”

“So do you really want a blowjob?”

“Uh…” He had a very serious look on his face. He raised his voice to be heard but tried to whisper at the same time. “I don’t know if that’s… I was told I should ‘fuck you’.” He made little scare quotes. “But uh… Khalad ain’t elaborate, that’s all he said. I dunno if a blowjob is all that, y’know… They need.”

“Who? What?”

“Uh…” He sighed and glanced over at Jameson and them, who were laughing uproariously.

“Let’s go in the back,” Willie said. He took hold of Lake’s belt and held onto that. Lake leaned back as he walked, like he didn’t want to get any closer to Willie than he had to. Willie guided him by the belt to the backroom.

The others started making rude porno noises. Someone moaned oh, give it to me, Willie, stick it in me! Thanks for making me bottom! Lake bristled a bit as though he wanted to assert his dominance, but he was too nervous in this situation.

Once they were safely in the backroom, Lake breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, man, I don’t know how to do this. I know how to hit on girls, you know, not-”

“You can treat me like that.”

He stepped forward and for a moment it looked like he was going to sweep Willie into his arms and kiss him. Then he shook his head. “I don’t think I can do that. Man… What if I can’t?”

“What is going on?”

“I’m on the football team at GHU, and the seniors said everyone on the team has to fuck a gay guy. It proves your masculinity or something. You were on the list.”

“I’m flattered,” Willie said. He made it seem like he didn’t know about the list, but in fact, he had asked to be on it.

“But all Khalad said was ‘fuck a gay guy’, or something, I don’t know, they ain’t say if it’s gotta be anal or not-“

“Relax, Lake, it’s okay, quit whining. You know you don’t have to do it, right?”

“They said the freshmen have to do it, no matter what.”

“How are they going to check? I’m not going to give them a list of the guys I sucked off, Lake. I promise I’ll tell them you did it, okay?” Willie paused. “But yeah, if it said you have to fuck, that implies anal.”

“Man…”

“Do you want to do it?”

“Kinda…” He bit his lip and looked down. “I’m not into guys.”

“You’re just horny?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s harder to get laid at college than I thought.”

He leaned back in Pete’s office chair. Pete would have hated that, which made Willie giggle — the owner, Pete, hated it when people sat in his chair. Willie got on his knees and fished Lake’s cock out of his pants.

Lake stiffened up and grunted. He closed his eyes when Willie’s tongue hit his cocktip, which stiffened up in Willie’s mouth. Lake was a healthy young athlete so his cock perked right up into a full erection almost right away. Willie liked that — sometimes the straight guys he serviced treated his blowjobs like a chore they had to struggle to complete, even when they initiated it.

Willie let his fingers roam up Lake’s body. Lake hadn’t taken off his jersey, so Willie had to sneak underneath it to touch his muscles, which were firm and stiff. Lake was tense. Willie could feel his anxiety roiling beneath his flesh, his worry that he was going to become gay or look gay or be perceived as gay or even just feel gay later. It made Willie giggle again.

“Have you ever fucked a girl in the ass?” Willie asked as he thwacked Lake’s cock all over his face.

“I’m not a virgin,” Lake said. “But no, I never got a girl to give up the booty — man, don’t tell no one. If they ask you about it, tell them I was an expert, that I fucked a lot of girls in the ass, okay? I don’t know how to do it.” He sniffled a little. Was he about to cry from tension? It almost looked like it.

“Lake, Lake, relax, nigga, chill out. I don’t like to tell people about everything I do, okay? I’m not gonna spread stuff about you. I promise they’re not even gonna ask, okay? They don’t care. They’re just teasing you.”

“What?”

“They always tell freshmen weird shit like that because they wanna see what you’ll do,” Willie said. He turned and backed his ass up towards Lake’s cock. Lake kept his eyes closed, even as he listened attentively to Willie’s words. “Last year the seniors told the basketball freshmen they all had to cum on my face at the same time or they’d never make a three-pointer all season. That wasn’t a real superstition, they just wanted to make them do it and make fun of them for it when they finally did it after a bunch of tries-“

“You let them do it?”

“Is that a joke? Of course I let the basketball team bukkake me. I made it as tough as possible so they’d have to keep trying to cum simultaneously, over and over again” Willie said. He grimaced as he backed his ass onto Lake’s cock. There was a twinge of pain, but Willie was well-lubed and ready to go. He held his breath as that massive cock slid into his ass.

“I can guess why you never talked a girl into givin’ up the ass. You got some hefty meat, nigga,” Willie said with a laugh. The laughter made his back shake, which in turn caused a bolt of pain.

“Oh, sorry, does that hurt?”

“Yes, and don’t apologize,” Willie said. He leaned back and stroked Lake’s muscles beneath his football jersey. Struggling with the intense feelings in his ass, Willie lifted the football jersey off Lake’s body. That gave him easy access to nuzzle Lake’s barrel chest.

“Is that… I mean… do straight guys normally let you suck their chest? That’s weird,” Lake said.

“You can tell me to stop,” Willie said softly. “But most guys don’t mind. You have a great chest. Girls must love you.”

He shrugged. “I got a girl,” he said. He groaned and exhaled sharply. His cock twitched in Willie’s ass.

“You have a girl?”

He nodded. He opened his mouth to say something — probably her name — but then he just moaned and grunted. Willie kissed him on the neck, stretching to reach it because Willie was so much shorter than Lake.

“She doesn’t do anal?”

Lake chuckled. “Nah. She say she don’t do that. She say only sluts do that.”

“You poor baby… Does she suck your dick at least?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“I know what that means,” Willie said. “Well anytime she leaves you hanging, you can come see me, big guy. I’ll take care of you.” Willie bit his lip. “Are you going to tell her about this?”

“Hell no,” he said. It sounded like he was having trouble talking now, unable to concentrate as he approached his orgasm. He even very briefly kissed Willie’s earlobe before shuddered at the realization was sort-of making out with a gay man. A tortured cry escaped from his throat.

And then cum flew into Willie’s ass, coating his prostate in creamy warmth. Willie moaned as well, and the pressure inside his ass was enough to send him over the edge too. He shot a big wad that sprayed over his chest and belly, filling the air in Pete’s office with the cottony scent of cum.

“Ah, damn…” Lake said. He shuddered. When Willie started to pull off his dick, Lake grunted and spasmed, his whole body shaking.

Then his dick at last plopped out. Lake looked down at it, his muscles utterly relaxed — he had gone from tense and firm as a statue to a limp pile of brown muscles in just a few minutes. Willie licked some of the sweat off Lake’s chest and biceps.

“What the fuck?! Willie! Willie, you piece of shit!” Pete’s voice rang out. He barged into his own office. “You! Whoever you are, nigga, get your bare ass outta my chair! I oughtta kick your ass!”

Lake was scared of getting in trouble, even though Pete had no authority over him. All Pete could do was kick Lake out of the barbershop. He could, in theory, have fired Willie.

But Willie knew that wouldn’t happen. Every City Barbershop had a gay guy; it was virtually in the corporate handbook. Willie’s blowjobs kept the sexy straight studs coming in, and they made the place popular enough and hip enough to bring in everyone else. Pete wouldn’t fire Willie to replace him with a different gay guy (who would almost certainly continue sucking guys off in Pete’s chair anyway).

So Willie teased him, rubbing and caressing Lake’s muscles as Lake hurried to put his clothes back on and Pete screamed at him to hurry up. Willie dove his face between Lake’s big quarterback asscheeks while Lake tried to pull his pants up. Willie giggled as Pete roared in frustration and dragged Lake out the best he could — it was tough because Lake’s pants were around his ankles and because Lake was a huge athlete twice Pete’s middle-aged size.

Eventually, however, that left Willie there alone to giggle and wait for Pete to return to his office.

“I ain’t talkin’ to you, nigga.”

“You don’t gotta talk,” Willie said. “You want a blowjob?”

“Just go cut someone’s hair!”

The Bimbofication of Wing Mao

Here’s the entirety of The Bimbofication of Wing Mao, a new tale of hardcore interracial AW/WM bimbo action! It’s part of the Bimbofication of Woman series, and is available in The Bimbofication of Woman, Vol. 2!

Wing Mao was in the library, and for the first time in a long time, she couldn’t study. Normally she remembered everything she read, and she read plenty. She’d gotten through her first three years of college in only two years on that brain, all while playing cello in the university orchestra as well.

But today — and increasingly on recent days — Wing had trouble concentrating because she kept running into him. He was Delroy Hopkins, a blond god, rugby jock and broad-shouldered hunk who made Wing’s mouth water.

She had never had a real crush on a guy. She’d seen guys she thought were hot, but Wing was always too serious to have a heart-stopping, shrieking-hot, life-consuming crush even when all her friends did in middle school.

But lately every time she saw Delroy, Wing wanted to beg him to give her just one kiss. It was all she could think about when he was nearby. She was too scared to ever ask, or even to speak to him about any topic.

“Man, how much of this do I gotta learn?!” he said with a scowl aimed at the bespectacled nerd beside him — seemingly a tutor. Delroy sighed and leaned back. “It’s a nice day, I wanna go to the beach.”

“You have to learn all of it, the test is tomorrow,” said the squeaky-voiced tutor.

Delroy sighed again and looked up. For the first time ever, he made eye contact with Wing, who blushed but couldn’t turn her head away. Delroy smiled at her. There was a flash of recognition. Did he notice that they had seen each other around campus on many occasions? Or was he too oblivious? Guys as sexy as him probably just didn’t register sad-faced nerds like her, Wing thought as she pretended not to notice his eye contact.

He looked back down at the book. Wing was overwhelmed by every feeling in the book — lust, love, fear, loneliness, envy, rage, sadness — all at once. She closed her laptop, gathered her books and darted out of the library so quick it attracted attention.

She didn’t care. She couldn’t be near him anymore. Her face was bright red, and her pussy was wetter than it had ever been. She ran towards the beach, just a few blocks from the campus library. The GHU-San Diego campus went right up to the beach.

When she got there, she felt faint and ducked into the first nice-looking establishment she saw. It was a bar, but it was early so few people were there. It was not crowded and reasonably clean, and she felt safe there.

She took a deep breath. She took out her cell phone to make it look like she was trying to make a phone call, but she had no one to call. She was utterly alone.

There was a fortune-telling machine against the wall. It was just a ceramic Gypsy woman, and a box where you could put a quarter in. It said it would tell you your future.

A trio of sexy Asian college girls came in. Ohmigod, you are such a dumb whore! There were dressed like sluts, and they giggled like blondes, and they had makeup, tits, skirts that ended just below the labia. Where did those guys go? Aren’t they such idiots?! Wing was jealous, even if she felt bad about being jealous. They could have gotten Delroy in a heartbeat. They could have gotten any man.

They were looking for someone, someone who wasn’t there after all, so they left. Wing watched their bubble-butts walk out, and she listened to their hot-chick giggling while they discussed where to go next to look for their boyfriends, or whichever guys they were currently pursuing.

Wing had never in her life done something irrational. As soon as she realized that, she wanted more than anything to put money in that fortune-telling machine. She rarely had change on her, but tonight, she happened to have a quarter. It was only twenty-five cents.

She slid it into the box. The Gypsy woman whirred, and the mechanics within it clanged. There was a puff of smoke. A sound emerged, like a dying robot. She didn’t know if it was supposed to act like this or if it was broken.

But then a slip of paper was printed out the bottom. She took it and read it.

Congratulations, Wing Mao, you have won a wish! Choose wisely! You have five seconds or the wish will be gone forever!

Wing’s heart skipped a beat. The rational part of her mind wondered how the machine knew her name, and wondered why it gave her a wish instead of telling the future as the marketing indicated. But she had only paid the machine in the first place due to the irrational part of her mind, the same part that made her come in this bar in the even firster place because her crush on Delroy was so irrational it was nearly trumpian. So the rational part of her mind was not in control of anything at this moment, which Wing was strangely fine with — she didn’t want to use logic or reason. She didn’t want to make sense. She wanted Delroy. She wanted her wish.

Even as her intelligence debated what to do, that irrational part of her mind took much less than five seconds to make a wish.

I wish to be a bimbo, like those sluts, just for one day.

Angry with herself at wasting a quarter, she hurried onto the street. She didn’t want anyone to see that she had paid for a fortune from a machine. She threw the paper away, not noticing that the writing on it had disappeared after her five seconds were up.

She stumbled down the street and giggled at herself. She righted her legs. Am I… taller? She felt taller.

Why am I wearing heels? Why am I walking successfully in heels?

She didn’t even own heels. She didn’t own them because she couldn’t walk in them, but all of a sudden she wore stiletto heels and she wore them so well she could have danced a ballet in them. Her sweatshirt and jeans were gone too, replaced by a low-cut sapphire-blue dress that showed off her cleavage.

A passing storefront with a reflective window proved what had happened: the fortune-telling machine worked. She looked like a hot, slutty Asian chick, like one of those girls from the bar, like someone who would be popular, like someone Delroy Hopkins might screw.

Again, the rational part of her mind formulated a very sensible plan, but her bimbo mind ignored it. She knew what she wanted to do, and it wasn’t go back to the bar and investigate the machine. It wasn’t check to see whether the “magic” had simply changed her hair, makeup and clothes or if it had actually made her tits and ass bigger, her thighs and waist smaller and her cheekbones more pronounced. The rational part of her mind whirred with questions. What would happen if I paid another quarter? Could I have wished for a million wishes? Will this wish backfire?

But Wing didn’t want to listen to that rational part of her mind. She had something else in mind.

When she got to the library, Delroy was there, leaning back in his chair. No one wore stiletto heels and a skimpy dress to the library, so every single person there turned to stare, jaw agape.

She walked right to Delroy, whose wide-eyed stare was enough to make Wing giggle like a skank. It was obvious what he was going to say before she even asked her question.

“Hi. Do you want to come with me?” she asked.

Delroy jumped over himself to say yes, not even asking who she was or where she wanted to take him. He pushed his tutor out of the way and left his books behind as he hurried to her side. Wing giggled and took hold of his belt, which he had dangling between his legs like a cock. She pulled on it and guided him away, into the back of the library.

There was a room there she knew of. The library put books needing to be reshelved there. The shelving guys — they were mostly high schoolers doing community service — only worked during the day, so no one would be there now.

It was just a small closet with a table, crowded high with textbooks. She brought him in there, hopped up on the table and smiled. “Delroy, I want you to fuck me.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Magic,” she said. She kissed him on the lips. He hesitated like he wanted to ask for more information, but didn’t want to ruin the situation. She smiled and kissed him again. “Would you believe me if I said it was an ancient Chinese secret?”

He gulped. “Not really…” It didn’t seem like he cared too much though.

At first, he was surprised by how quickly this happened that his hands stayed limp, his mouth not reacting to her kiss. But then his instincts kicked in as her tits brushed over his chest. He moved his head, his tongue planted into hers, and his hands gripped her delicate shoulders.

He let out a little roar and shoved all those books off the table. He grinned, his deep-dimpled cheeks making Wing’s heart swoon. She wanted him so badly.

“You’re the sexiest chick on this campus,” he said. He bit his lip. “I really like you a lot-“

“Oh, Delroy, you barely know me,” Wing said with a blushing giggle.

“I know… But I can tell,” he said, and it really seemed like he meant it. “You’re so special to me, even if we don’t know each other yet. We will. I can sense the future, you know. I’m a bit of a fortune-teller myself. It’s not an ancient Chinese secret, but it’s… I think we might be together for a long time, miss… whoever you are.” His broad chest heaved nervously. That made Wing excited because she never thought tiny, delicate Wing Mao might make a huge stud like him so exhilarated he lost his breath just kissing her.

He took off his shirt, and Wing lost herself again, kissing his throbbing chest muscles. Her tongue traced a line up to his neck, which smelled like days-old cologne. Her fingers undid his belt, and his jeans plopped to the floor.

Somehow her dress came off. Wing hadn’t put it on, so she didn’t even know how to take it off, but it seemed Delroy figured it out. Wing was too overwhelmed by passion to even notice, not until her bare skin puckered in the chilly library air.

His kisses traveled down her body. He kissed her neck, her breasts, his lips roaming down her flat belly and round hips. She moaned, and for once, the sound that came out wasn’t an unappealing frog-like grunt but a low slow-burning moan of sheer pleasure that made Delroy moan in sync with her.

In the tiny library closet, their voices resonated and echoed, forming a coccoon of their own lust. She was surprised to see him lower his head, his tongue going to her womanhood without her prompting him to do it.

Her entire body tightened and crooned as his tongue hit her clitoris. A bolt of pleasure shot up her spine. She clutched his powerful shoulders and back muscles, and writhed as his tongue explored her body.

He plunged into her pussy, then back up to her sensitive clit, which raged and sang and pulsated beneath his ministrations. He lapped at her as though his life depended on it, his easygoing-jock attitude replaced by eager solicitude.

“Are you ready?” he asked breathlessly.

He didn’t need to specify what he was asking after. She nodded and leaned back. She spread her legs. He stood up, and she got her first look at his hefty thick cock.

He placed his dick right on the surface of her pussy and held it there with a smile on his face. “You want it in you, baby?”

“Yes!”

“You sure?!”

“Yes, please! Fuck me, Delroy! I’ve been watching you for so long, I need you!”

He grinned broadly and did it. His cock sunk into her body, and Wing moaned again. Her fingers dug into his meaty shoulders, as her blood turned to pure lust in her veins. The sounds they made together grew so loud Wing was sure people outside the room would be able to hear.

Wing could see it on his face when her words sunk in — she had accidentally implied she’d been watching him for a long time — he looked momentarily worried that she might be a stalker. But then he moaned as a pang of pleasure shot up his spine, and he ignored his confusion.

Instead he fucked her harder, ramming his dick in her pussy now that it was clear she could take it. Each motion of his powerful hips made Wing feel it throughout her body, every part of her tightening and relaxing in sync with his gyrations. His muscles tensed, and she threw her head back, unable to suppress a loud shout as pre-orgasmic bliss wracked her body.

He kissed her again. “Baby…” he said with a blush. “You, uh… you really like me, right?”

“Of course!” she said, so aroused she was almost ready to cry. It felt like her entire body was about to shatter, like she couldn’t take any more pleasure and one more good stroke from his dick would be enough to make her fall into a million little pieces of orgasmic bimbo-confetti filtering to the floor.

“You wanna really show how much you like me?”

“Yes! Oh god, yes!”

“Can I stick it in your ass?” he asked. Then before she could answer, he leaned in and moaned into her ear. “You’re so beautiful, baby, I need you. I need every part of you. I gotta have you, please say yes, I need to be inside you.”

“Yes! Oh fuck, hell yes!” she moaned, so aroused right now she didn’t even need to think about it. She wanted it so bad she could cry.

He grinned and kissed her. “Thank you, baby, you’re the best. You’re the sexiest chick in the world.”

She giggled. He pulled out of her pussy, and Wing felt a brief loneliness at the lack of stimulation. Her womanhood felt empty and unloved. But that lasted for only a moment.

Delroy pulled her ass right up to the edge of the table, and he even used a thin Accounting 101 workbook to prop her hips up a little bit. That bared her ass and forced her cheeks apart.

Wing had never had anal sex. She’d never even thought about actually doing it. But she had never wanted anything as much as she wanted this right now.

Her legs in the air, toes curling as though she could grip his shoulders with them, Wing bit her lip. She felt an intense onrush of pressure in her ass. She held her breath.

“Oh, baby, your ass is so good,” he said. His eyes closed and he took deep breaths like this hurt for him more than her.

But the pain was actually very dim and distant. There was a twinge of pleasure as well, and even though that pain was objectively stronger, all Wing’s mind could focus on was the growing chorus of bliss welling up inside her. It was her ass, on fire, tight and soft, moist, full, empty, potent and weak, pounded away at and made tender love to all at once.

She tried to grab for his chest, to massage and knead those bulging muscles. But her arms were too short, his chest too far except when he was at his apogee, all the way inside her ass, and then her fingers could glancingly get ahold of his chest. She tweaked his nipples and felt his muscles roiling beneath her grasp.

Had she even taken his entire cock within her? She couldn’t tell. She wanted to feel it, to feel his manhood and see how much was left outside her ass.

But when she tried to move her hands, all she could do was flail uselessly. The sensations boiling over from inside her were too intense to focus on anything else. All she managed was to moan and grunt and spit and squirm like a wild animal.

And then she felt him slide the last of his dick into her. She didn’t need to use her hands, she could sense that that was it. They became like one beast, rutting wildly, writhing in each other’s arms.

Wing’s body moved uncontrollably while she reacted to the sensations around and within her. Every part of her body tingled and shook. She bit her lip so hard she drew blood, while his blond jock body turned ruddy as he reached his own orgasm.

It all ended at once, and the most intense sensations of her life overwhelmed her. Her thin, delicate bimbo body shook like a beat-up old car shedding parts as it barreled down the road. Her tits vibrated beneath his tongue, her sensitive nipples sending shockwaves of pleasure up her spine.

She had no idea how long that orgasm lasted. She was only aware that it was done — sweat streaming down her body in rivulets, fingers tightened into claws that drew a few drops of blood from his chest — because someone knocked on the door. The sound snapped her out of her stupor.

Hey, uh… the librarian just called security, whoever’s in there. You should probably… Well… Just to let you know, security is coming. Whoever was there on the other side of the door chuckled. I mean… security is “traveling to this location”, not cumming.

Wing blushed. Her face was already red from sexual exertion, but now she blushed on top of that. The closet stank of sex. She would have gladly stayed there with Delroy forever.

But he pulled out of her. Tremendous relief flooded her ass, and she could feel juices trickling out of her body. She moaned again. She bit her lip and hopped off the table.

“Wow,” he said. “Thanks a lot for that. That was… crazy. Can I have your phone number?”

She giggled but didn’t answer. She bent over to display her ass to him as she grabbed her clothes. She shook her ass in his direction, and he stopped with his pants halfway up in the air. He growled at the sight of her jiggling asscheeks. He massaged her flesh, but then she giglged and pulled her ass away.

“Damn, you are amazing,” he said. “Please be my girlfriend?”

“Delroy… I don’t know if I’m that kind of girl,” she said. “I don’t always act like this.” She slipped her dress back on. He retightened his belt and put his shoes on. His bare, muscular chest was still shirtless, a few beads of sweat clinging to his flesh.

“I don’t care how you act usually,” he said. “Just be with me. Here.” He ripped out a page from a textbook and wrote his phone number on it. “You can call me too.” He paused, then added some more letters and numbers. “And here’s my email address and my screennames on Yahoo, Facebook and AOL instant messaging. And here’s my dad’s landline number, that’s where I’ll be on vacation from school. Oh, and here’s my street address and my frat’s address. They have a landline too but I don’t remember the number-“

“Delroy, relax, that’s fine. I have plenty of ways to contact you-“

“You can send me a postcard or something. Or call me collect, that’s fine. Is that still a thing? You can text me or… I don’t have snapchat, but I’ll get it-“

“Delroy, shut up.” She giggled. His lips slammed shut. She kissed him. “I’ll call you,” she said. “I’ll call you when I’m ready for another go.”

The door opened suddenly, and two dour security guards glared. They both looked a little upset at first, as though they had expected to see two fat library nerds making out. They were relieved to see two sexy people, who weren’t even naked. It must have stank like sex though, Wing thought with a giggle.

“What are you two doing in here? Why is your shirt off, young man?”

Wing laughed out loud. She grabbed that Accounting 101 workbook. “I was just looking for this book, for my class. I’m studying to be an accountant.” Delroy chuckled to himself as though it was impossible for hot chicks to become accountants. Wing smiled at the security guards. “Delroy here was just helping me find it. He’s so helpful.”

Delroy smiled too. He ran his fingers through his thick blond hair. “That’s true. I am helpful. I took my shirt off because… Her dad’s a dermatologist, I wanted her to see this mole I had and send him a photo. Skin cancer is a serious problem.”

“That’s true. Don’t worry though, Delroy, my dad said it looks benign,” she said.

“Phew. Thanks, ma’am. I’m going to put my shirt on and do my homework now! I’m excited about responsible behavior!” Delroy said with a wide grin. He put his shirt on and pushed out past the two security guards, who glared at him. When Wing walked out, they moved out of the way to make room for her.

When she was out in the hallway, she moved towards the exit, while Delroy walked back into the library itself. The two security guards went into the closet to put the books back on the table Delroy had knocked them off of.

That meant she had a few more seconds to connect with him. He walked backwards, bumping into a book-cart and smiling at her, beaming like he was shocked about what had happened. He held up one hand to wave, while his other grabbed his crotch, cock outlined briefly by his clothes.

“Bye, baby!” he yelled so loud the other library patrons turned to look at him.

Wing blushed like she was still shy, but she wasn’t. She just pretended because she knew it was sexy to be demure. She waved back after him, then turned around and walked out the door into the chilled night air.

She didn’t know how long this bimbofication magic was going to last, but she intended to have as much fun as possible while it did.

First-Time Ganging the Whole Frat

Here’s a sample from the beginning of First-Time Ganging the Whole Frat! That’s a hot new tale of interracial f/m/m/m action at the sexiest frat party you’ll ever read about!

 

It was my first day at grad school and I was rather excited about all of the fun I would have. My degree was in psychology and I knew what these boys wanted to. They had been eyeing me for years and years. I had always been a good girl and never gave it up. I was definitely a virgin still. But that didn’t stop me from having all of these dirty thoughts. These dirty thoughts would always creep into my mind and consume my every thought once I lied into bed.

 

As I sat there in my dorm all alone. I pulled out my vibrator and I started to go to town and myself. Just because I was a virgin didn’t mean I wasn’t sexually active with myself. I knew every ounce of my body. I knew every square inch of it, and I knew how to please myself so well. I did so with great ease tonight thinking about the party that I was supposed to attend tomorrow.

 

I was invited to this party from an african american guy who worked at a sandwich shop. When I was getting a sandwich he was giving me the eye, and I followed up by getting his number. He told me about this fraternity party that he had tomorrow night and that was just the place that I needed to go. It was just the thing that I wanted to do the start of this new school year, and I always had a thing for black guys since I was a petite white women.

 

All of this anticipation I had regarding this party tomorrow night was building me up to quite a climax. My vibrator was quick to bring me to the first orgasm. I then reached my hand down and tasted my juices. My juice tonight tasted rather good, a little sweet actually.

Str8 Till College: A Freshman Tradition

Here’s the entirety of Str8 Till College: A Freshman Tradition, a new story from the Str8 Till College series! It’s available as part of a great value megapack called The Gay College Stud Anthology!

Ethan nervously added his name to the slip of paper. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to, but he didn’t want to be the only one not doing it. He figured no one was likely to actually go through with it anyway.

There was a tradition here on the seventh floor of Mirtois Tower, a dormitory on the north side of the GHU campus in Lansing, Michigan. It was a rather unpleasant tradition in Ethan’s eyes, but he had agreed just the same so he wouldn’t be left out. He sighed as he put the slip of paper in the basket. His name sat there surrounded by the other freshmen on this floor.

Awright, loverboy! I hope I draw your ass!

Then he drew a name. He didn’t even look at it at first. It was too embarrassing. He just stuffed it in his pocket and beamed like everyone else, as though he had just won something.

Only when he scurried back to his dorm room did he peer at the piece of paper. It was Kurtis. Ethan blushed though no one was around to see it.

That slip of paper meant he was allowed to fuck Kurtis, one of his dormmates. The seventh floor of Mirtois Tower’s tradition was that, over the weekend before spring break, anyone who wanted to could put their name in a basket and pick a different name out. Whoever’s name you got, you were allowed to fuck, in the mouth or the ass — it had supposedly been tradition since the fifties.

It seemed silly to Ethan. He got horny sometimes, but he never really wanted to fuck a man no matter how horny he got. It just seemed gross, not a suitable substitute for an actual woman. He barely knew Kurtis, who had a girlfriend and had noisy sex with her on a seemingly nightly basis — it kept Ethan up sometimes — so he had no intention of going through with it.

He didn’t even know why he had written his name down, except that people had been making a big deal out of this tradition since September. He thought it was a joke at first, when the RA, Walter, mentioned it. But by the time spring break rolled around, he had realized that it was serious and that everybody in the dorm was going to do it. The only one who turned it down was Hector, a weird, nerdy devout Catholic and everyone knew he only said no because he was embarrassed of the tiny cock he had been trying to keep hidden all year.

The drawing of names was anticlimactic. After spending all week dreading this weekend, Ethan had his name — and someone had his name, though he tried not to think about that — and now it was just all over. He simply went back to his dorm and went to bed. Everyone else went out to one party or another, but Ethan was too shy and quiet to finagle an invitation.

He went to sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about sex, but somehow he drifted off into a fitless sleep.

The door to his dorm slid open, and someone walked in. Ethan woke up suddenly, but he was confused at first. He didn’t realize what was happening.

“Yo, hey, hush up, relax,” came a familiar, deep voice.

“What? Who are you?”

“It’s Kurtis, man,” he said. Kurtis was a leanly muscled black man with a square jaw, a noble chin and a flat nose. He was an athlete and a starting player on the college basketball team, which was especially impressive since he was only a freshmen, and they rarely started on any team.

“Oh, hey.” Ethan was nervous. He knew he should have been angry with Kurtis for waltzing right into Ethan’s dormroom. He was nervous because Kurtis was the name on his slip of paper — Ethan had the “right” (or at least the traditional right) to demand a blowjob from Kurtis right now, or even anal sex. He had no intention of doing that, however.

“Yo, uh, so… You wanna fuck around on the downlow?” Kurtis asked. He grinned sheepishly in the dark.

“Uh… am I…?”

He held up his piece of paper. “Yeah. I got yo’ name, man,” he said.

Ethan chuckled nervously. “I got your name,” he said. He held up his own piece of paper.

“Well, shit, that’s convenient,” Kurtis said. He put his hands on his hips. He grabbed his dick through his basketball shorts. “You wanna like sixty-nine or somethin’?”

At the same moment he said that, Ethan said, “You wanna just not do it?” They both exchanged awkward glances at the realization that they were not on the same page. Kurtis clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“Come on, man, don’t be a squeamish prude,” he said.

“It’s kinda weird,” Ethan said. “Don’t pretend I’m strange cuz I don’t want to do it.”

“You didn’t have to do it! You didn’t have to write your name down! You could have just written down Mickey Mouse, and if you did, I’d be off in Disneyland getting laid right now!”

“I didn’t think anyone would take it seriously!” Ethan said, gulping nervously. He sat up in the dark. Now that he was thinking about Kurtis’ body, it loomed next to him. Kurtis wasn’t huge, but he seemed big in the dark.

“Come on, ain’t you horny?” Kurtis said. “I never see you with a girl.”

“I get horny sometimes, but I’m not a total hornball like you,” Ethan said.

“Hornball?”

“You’re fucking your girl every night!”

“That’s not a bad thing!” Kurtis scoffed. “And it ain’t true anyway! She dumped me last week.”

“Really?”

Kurtis nodded. “She left me for Greg Winthrop. You know him? He’s on the golf team. I lost a girl to some white guy who plays golf,” he said. “You know how embarrassing that is? I can’t show my face in the Black Students Union until I land some other white chick.” He laughed at himself.

“You know… you can be a real jerk sometimes. I’m not surprised she dumped you,” Ethan said.

“Oh come on, I’m sorry,” Kurtis said. “Just chill out. Don’t white guys ever fuck around on the downlow?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“It’s… gross, or whatever-“

“It ain’t gross, and that’s homophobic of you,” Kurtis said. He beamed like he was proud to have said something politically correct for once. He placed one hand on Ethan’s shoulder. It rested there, heavy and foreboding. It was all Ethan could think about for a moment.

“I’m not a homophobe.”

“Then fuck me,” Kurtis said. “Come on… You’ll feel better when it’s done-“

“Fine! Just stop being a jerk,” Ethan said. He shook his head. “You’re a real asshole sometimes.”

“But not all the time? Thank you, you have a higher opinion of me than most of the freshmen in this dorm! You wanna sixty-nine?” He was already taking his clothes off. He was still fully dressed, in basketball shorts and a tight t-shirt that showed off his muscles, because he had gone out to a party, but Ethan was wearing nothing but boxer shorts. He felt self-conscious next to Kurtis, whose basketball-toned body gleamed in the dim light of the dorm room.

“Uh…”

“Come on, I’ll let you be on top,” he said. He laid on the narrow dorm bed, pushing Ethan over to make enough room.

That was the first time Ethan had been touched intimately by a man — Kurtis’ hands gripped his ass and shoved Ethan a few inches closer to the wall. That forced Ethan into a spooning position, his face wedged in next to Kurtis’ muscled shoulders.

“Okay, gimme your hand. I’ll walk you through this,” Kurtis said. “I ain’t know this was gonna be my role at college, tellin’ whiteboys how to fuck around on the downlow.” He laughed at himself as he guided Ethan’s hand over Kurtis’ body until it touched his spongy soft cock.

Ethan jerked and spasmed. He had never touched anyone’s dick besides his own. It was hot and throbbing in his hand. It felt huge, though he wasn’t sure it was actually bigger than his own, it just seemed strange to hold it in his hand.

He moved his hand, giving one awkward stroke. Kurtis laughed. “You gotta do better than that, man,” he said. “You would not last in my hood.”

“Is this part of growing up in the hood?”

Kurtis shrugged. “Basically, yeah,” he said. His own hand wrapped over Ethan’s dick. He laughed again, but more nervously this time. “Damn, whiteboy dicks feel weird.”

“Your dick feels weird.”

They both laughed together. Their cock were both completely soft. Ethan still didn’t know why anybody would do this willingly — who cared? It would have been more enjoyable to simply jack off.

“Alright, well, get on top of me,” Kurtis said. “Maybe we’ll be able to do it once we get started.”

Ethan grumbled as he crawled onto his hands and knees. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. He just wanted to get it over with. His dick dangled as he straddled Kurtis’ head, hugging his ropy-muscled basketball-player body.

Kurtis’ dick lay in front of him like a dead animal. It smelled like soap and a little of sweat. Before Ethan could do anything, Kurtis swallowed his dick in one smooth motion, and Ethan let out a moan.

“Ah, shit…”

He had gotten blowjobs, but he had never felt anything like this. He threw his head back and had to suppress a scream. Kurtis’ mouth spread spit over Ethan’s shaft, which pulsated and throbbed like it was his first time getting hard.

Ethan slammed his head down because the pleasure was such a sudden shock and he couldn’t help it. But that placed his face and his mouth right next to Kurtis’ brown dick, which twitched. It was close enough that Ethan felt the heat radiating off it.

Kurtis grumbled — he was annoyed that Ethan wasn’t sucking him back just yet. His mouth was full, but he lightly slapped Ethan’s ass with one hand, while his other hand thwacked his dick over Ethan’s face.

Ethan opened his mouth and closed his eyes. It was already dark in the dorm room, so he didn’t really need to close his eyes, but he did it anyway. He let Kurtis’ cock slide into his mouth.

And, much to his surprise, it wasn’t unpleasant at all. He didn’t mind the taste, which was clean and a bit musky. He didn’t move at first, just letting it sit in his mouth.

Then his tongue moved as though of its own accord. It licked at Kurtis’ cockshaft, which twitched again.

And then, like a switch had been pressed, Ethan realized that they were sixty-nining. He was doing it. After all his anxiety over this tradition, here he was doing it, and it wasn’t really that bad.

“Aw….”

His dick pounded into full erection, and rather than resting in Kurtis’ mouth, Ethan found himself in constant motion. He humped his hips up and down, working his dick in so deep Kurtis’ throat squeezed around it as he choked. Ethan choked as well, on Kurtis’ own cock sliding into his gullet.

Surprised pleasure shot up Ethan’s spine. He had never felt anything quite like this, and he was shocked by how much he enjoyed himself. Kurtis’ cock tasted surprisingly similar to pussy, he thought. Maybe that was why he loved it.

Yo, nigga, wake up! Get the fuck up!

Was a fight about to break out? It sounded like there was someone angry out in the dorm, but not outside Ethan’s door.

Kurtis tapped on his ass until Ethan rolled over. Kurtis hopped to the door to Ethan’s dorm and peered through the peephole, angling his head the best he could to see down the hall. His dick stood out straight, its silhouette making it seem gargantuan in the shadowy dorm room.

Wake up, Kurtis! We gonna put yo’ money where yo’ mouth is!

Hey, baby!

Kurtis slid the door open just slightly, enough for his head to poke out. “Yo.” His deep voice echoed in the dorm hallway.

The guys at Kurtis’ own dorm-room door came down to Ethan’s. Ethan caught a glimpse of them — three young black men, in jerseys and sneakers, carrying a basketball as though they were on their way to a game, even though it was past midnight.

Hey, nigga, we gonna play. We gonna settle this, and we even got a reward for the winner.

Hell yeah!

Hey, baby…

That last voice was feminine, a low and sultry woman. Ethan couldn’t see her, but she sounded beautiful. He was still erect, so he still thought about sex, and when he heard her voice, his knees went weak. He clutched at Kurtis’ muscled chest for support, and his hard cock pressed into Kurtis’ thigh. That was what he needed to get excited about this, a girl. Already Ethan was imagining her naked body, despite the fact that he hadn’t even seen her with clothes on yet.

Kurtis apparently didn’t notice Ethan’s dick touching his leg, or Ethan’s hands now resting on his muscled back. “Not interested, nigga,” he said.

Yo, what?! After all that trash-talkin’ you was doing?

We ain’t even tell him what the prize is.

Oh, yeah, you get to fuck this bitch.

The girl giggled then, and she murmured something Ethan didn’t catch. Ethan’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of fucking her — he couldn’t see her, so in his mind, she was the most beautiful woman he could imagine.

“What?”

Man, whatchoo doin’ in here anyway? Who’s room is this?

“I, uh… I’m fuckin’ a female, man. We havin’ a little threeway in here.”

This is a men’s dorm. You havin’ a threeway wit’ another nigga?

“Ain’t another nigga, man. Just get out,” Kurtis said. He started to shut the door, but the other men grunted and mean-mugged at him. He stopped. They glared at each other, and the girl pouted by herself.

Ethan was close enough he could feel Kurtis’ muscles tighten as a fight almost broke out. Kurtis was stark-naked, his big brown cock throbbing, a few drops of precum still clinging to his shaft.

Finally Kurtis just shut the door as he mumbled, “Go fuck yo’selves, niggas.” He made sure to lock it, then watched through the doorway as they walked away. The sound of that basketball dribbling on the floor was impossibly loud, booming like a freight train. It stopped only when they reached the elevator.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Kurtis said. “Let’s trade anal, man. I just gave up a girl to finish this-“

“Yeah, why’d you do that?”

“Cuz I ain’t wanna walk outta there from here, they’d have found out what we was doing.“

“You said it was normal ‘in the hood’. You said it was okay-“

“Yeah, it’s normal to do it and never admit it. That’s how it works,” Kurtis said. “You gonna do this or not?”

Ethan sighed. He would have thought he’d never in a million years agree to trade anal sex — that just seemed like a step too far. But he couldn’t help but think that since the blowjob had turned out to be much better than he expected, maybe he’d enjoy anal sex after all as well.

“Reacharound rules?” He asked.

“Uh… what?”

“Do you want to do reacharound rules?” He sighed dramatically, erect cock twitching, as though everybody knew what this was. “It just means that we play Paper-Rock-Scissors to see who gets to fuck first. When you fuck, you gotta give a reacharound. If the guy you’re fucking blows his load before you’re done, you don’t gotta give up the booty.”

“Oh. I guess that’s fair.”

“Course it’s fair,” he said. “If I go first, my dick is gonna make you feel so good. I got a magic dick, man. Ask any girl I been with.” He licked his lips and grinned like a cocky jerk. Ethan was flush with self-pity — he had never felt confident he was good in bed.

“Sure…”

Then they played Paper-Rock-Scissors. Ethan, as he always did, picked Rock. When he saw that Kurtis had picked Paper, he wanted to cry.

But at the same time, he didn’t, because a part of Ethan did want to find out what it was like to get fucked. He had enjoyed sucking dick, after all, so he hoped he would enjoy being fucked just the same.

“Hell, yeah!” Kurtis exclaimed. “Fuck! Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. I got lube.” He withdrew a tube of lubricant from his jeans that were crumpled on the floor. He squeezed some onto his cock and lightly slapped Ethan on the ass. “I been lookin’ at that ass since September, man.”

“Really? That’s fuckin’ nasty-“

“Well, ain’t my fault whiteboys is too stupid to fuck around on the downlow. Ass is ass. Ain’t no difference between a male ass and a female ass, ‘cept males don’t got tits or a pussy on the other side. Females are more difficult too,” he said with a laugh. “They don’t ever wanna have sex just cuz they’re horny. You gotta convince ‘em.” He wedged his dick between Ethan’s cheeks.

Ethan took a deep breath and bent over. He was excited about this but tried to hide it, both because he didn’t want to look gay and because it seemed Kurtis expected it. Kurtis clucked his tongue against his teeth supportively and he patted Ethan’s asscheeks.

“You seriously got a nice ass, man,” Kurtis said. “Nice and smooth. Plump. Fuckin’ hot. If you was my cellmate, I’d eat yo’ ass with a spoon.”

Before Ethan could say anything back, he felt a surge of agony like he was being torn apart. That lasted for only a half a second though, and then the lube made it easier for Kurtis’ dick to slip through.

It was awkward and alien at first, like he was being invaded, but the longer it went on, the calmer Ethan got. His ass relaxed, and soon waves of pleasure emanated from his prostate.

“Yeah, I feel ya twitchin’,” Kurtis said. He smiled like a cocky bastard. “See? I told you, I gots a magic dick. That’s why the females love me.” He groaned as one of his hands reached around Ethan’s body and wrapped over his dick. “I don’t like this part. I mean… Yo’ dick ain’t bad, but…”

“Can you stop talking?” Ethan said through gritted teeth. It felt good but the pressure was still intense and overwhelming.

It continued that way as Kurtis began to hump his dick back and forth. It hurt every few seconds, but Ethan was more focused on the pangs of pleasure running up his spine. They were few and far between compared to the shivers of pain, but they were still there, and they were stronger, more important, and just plain bigger in Ethan’s mind.

The more he got fucked, the more he liked it. His prostate tingled with every thrust of Kurtis’ dick into it — Ethan had to admit it did feel magical. It felt like a magic wand ramming into him, spraying awe-striking bliss throughout this body.

His muscles tensed, and his fingers tightened into claws. He was bent over his own bunk, so his fingernails clawed at his mattress, pulling on the sheets and blankets and knocking the pillows onto the floor.

“Yeah, man, take that shit, damn… Yo’ ass don’t quit!”

Kurtis’ basketball-toned body writhed behind Ethan’s back, his muscles tensing and flexing as he fucked. His dick fit perfectly inside him as though it had been constructed just to tease Ethan’s prostate, which it did each time it thrust into his ass.

Finally Ethan felt an orgasm overwhelm him. It was so intense he didn’t even realize at first that he was cumming first — that meant Kurtis had “won” and Ethan wouldn’t get to be on top next. That wasn’t disappointing though, even if a part of Ethan thought it should be.

Cum sprayed over his bunk and onto Kurtis’ fingers. It was a thick and copious load, with a strong smell that filled up the dorm room with its billowing, cottony scent.

“Hell yeah, told ya!” Kurtis said with a long, low grunt. He yelped right into Ethan’s ear, making Ethan shudder and clench onto the cock in his ass as his orgasm finally dwindled. Aftershocks continued with each wave of sensation deep inside him, and his cock throbbed beneath Kurtis’ fingers. Kurtis grunted. “Here I go, man…”

Cum coated his insides, great gobs of it spreading within him. It felt like a bigger load than his own, but Ethan wasn’t sure if that was real or an illusion. He moaned, and Kurtis groaned, gripping Ethan’s back firmly as pleasure rolled over his tight, toned muscles.

It washed over his insides. Ethan had to bite his lip to stifle a moan, which he thought would be audible next-door. He writhed beneath Kurtis’ body as his ass filled up with wad after wad of creamy-white cum.

Finally Kurtis was done. He didn’t pull out right away though. He paused and remained in position, resting while his cock throbbed in Ethan’s ass like it meant to stay there all night. Cum trickled throughout Ethan’s body, and it dripped out and down his thighs.

Only when Ethan thought he couldn’t handle the intensity anymore did Kurtis pull out. They both sighed, and Ethan collapsed onto his bunk on his belly.

“Hey, thanks,” Kurtis said. He stood up. He nervously bit his lip. “Hey, uh, if anyone asks… especially if any black folk ask, you, uh, you tell them that we was in here having a threesome, okay? Some girl who don’t go to school here. Say you don’t wanna tell who cuz she’s a local.”

“Oh. Okay.” Ethan was breathless.

“I’ll back you up,” Kurtis said. He paused and put his clothes on. “Thanks again.”

“Yeah, sure. Thank you,” Ethan said though he wasn’t quite sure what he was thanking Kurtis for. He breathed a sigh of relief when Kurtis finally walked out and the door swung shut behind him.

Ethan was glad that it was over, but even more than that, he was glad he had done it in the first place.

Black Guys Downlow

Here’s a sample from the beginning of Black Guys Downlow, a new tale of gay black college sex!

Franklin bristled as Lamar finished his story about banging three girls at once; he disliked how much attention Lamar was getting. As soon as Lamar had been pledged into Kappa Gamma Pi fraternity, Franklin’s frat brothers started saying he was the “new Franklin”. It was just a joke at first, but Franklin found it less and less funny as time went on.

They were the only black guys in the frat. Lamar was a freshman; Franklin a junior, so Franklin should have been in charge. He was an upperclassman while Lamar had only just finished pledging a few weeks ago. Franklin thought he should have gotten more respect from the others.

But while Franklin was an engineering major from a small town in Indiana full of middle-class white folks, Lamar was a tall, athletic jock and former drug dealer from Baltimore. Lamar was smooth-talking and charming; he had spent time in prison; he had a story for every topic, and he always had an audience.

“There’s nothing wrong with you as a guy in general, or as a frat brother,” Todd, one of the frat’s seniors and the president of Kappa Gamma Pi’s local chapter, said to Franklin one morning, “But damn, Lamar is a better black guy. That’s for sure.”

Maybe being a good “guy in general” should have been enough for Franklin. He never especially wanted to be “the black guy”. He didn’t attempt to come across as a gritty thug, and while he wished he was better with girls, he had no intention of being the sleep-around playa that Lamar was. He didn’t want to seduce a different girl every night. Franklin wanted a real relationship with a nice girl, but he usually struck out. Lamar almost never spent the night alone.

One Friday night, however, Lamar did strike out. The whole frat had gone to a party at the Omega Omicron Tau house, which usually meant that Lamar and the other handsome charmers wouldn’t be coming home. They’d have found some girl to spend the night with.

But Lamar had requested a threesome late in the night, and he had misjudged the girl he was with — he had bragged she would do anything he wanted, so he felt compelled to try and push the envelope. She slapped him and kicked him out of her room, stark naked, his thick dick swaying between his legs as he ran downstairs, clothes in hand. She threw bottles of makeup at him, calling him names as he smiled broadly. He made no effort to cover up his huge cock and said, “Uh, we gotta go, guys,” to Franklin and the other frat brothers who were without a female companion for the night.

So he had actually come back to the Kappa house with Franklin and a few other girl-less nerds; for the first time since coming to GHU, Lamar was unable to get a girl. Lamar wanted to continue the party when they were back at the house, and he poured himself a glass of cognac. Franklin hated cognac and didn’t want to drink anymore tonight, so he said no.

“You a real nigga or what? Cuz I ain’t nevuh heard of no kinda nigga who turn down Hennessy…” Lamar said.

Franklin blushed and took the drink. He hated Hennessy most of all, and he hated himself for giving in so easily. He had never claimed to be a “real nigga”, and didn’t need to prove anything to Lamar — who was just a freshman, after all, a just-pledged freshman who was technically supposed to do anything upperclassmen like Franklin told him to. But Franklin felt insecure right now, about his race, his masculinity, his status as an upperclassmen and fraternity officer; he just wanted to feel like he belonged, like he did before Lamar joined.

Despite Lamar’s best efforts, there was no more party to be had. Most of the Kappa brothers went right to bed, and the ones who stayed up were both drunk and sleepy, so nothing much happened. With sexy hip hop videos on the TV, Lamar settled in, Black & Mild in hand. It’s sickly floral scent filled the house. He grabbed at his dick through the sagging jeans he wore, marveling at the big brown asses on the screen.

“Damn, I would demolish that bitch right there…” Lamar said. His hardon was evident in his pants.

“You’re not allowed to smoke in here,” Franklin said. He took the Black & Mild right out of Lamar’s mouth, and dropped it, cherry-first, in his half-full glass of Hennessy.

His heart pounded. Lamar glared at him, staring him down as though about ready to prison-rape him. Franklin would never have done something so confrontational, but he had been drinking, and he was annoyed that Lamar acted as though he was better than Franklin, even though Lamar was the freshman. He looked older, acted more mature and was seemingly superior in every way (except in math skills), but Franklin was the upperclassman, an officer in the fraternity. He was supposed to be in charge.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“There’s no smoking in this house. It’s against university rules, and against Kappa Gamma Pi rules too. A lot of people don’t like it-“

“Talk to me about rules one more time, motherfucker.”

“I’m an upperclassman, Lamar. You have to do what I say.”

“You think I give a shit about that? I’m a motherfuckin’ nigga, boi, I ain’t no freshman-“

“That’s exactly what you are.”

“I ain’t yo’ freshman punk, nigga,” he said. “I pledged cuz I wanted to. I don’t do jackshit I don’t wanna do, that’s cuz I’m a real nigga, not some fake oreo bitch.”

“That’s me, huh, I’m the oreo? Real clever, Lamar. I never claimed to be a real nigga, y’know,” he said. “I’m not interested in a dick-measuring contest.” As soon as he said that, he knew it was a mistake — Lamar loved bragging about his huge cock, and he brought it out every time he could. This was no exception.

He flopped his dick out the fly of his jeans, and let it lay there. It looked just a bit hard, maybe from the excitement of the situation or from the sexy girls dancing on the TV screen.

“I win that contest, nigga,” he said.

“I’m not your nigga.”

“I ain’t say you was my nigga. I said you’s a nigga, but maybe that was a mistake,” he said. “You don’t act like a nigga.”

“Maybe. I ain’t no one’s nigga,” Franklin said, letting a black accent shine through (it always felt forced to him though, and this time was no exception).

“Don’t try to talk like one then. You talk like a nerd,” Lamar said.

“You talk like a retard.”

“Fuck you, motherfucker! I ain’t no retard,” Lamar said.

“I’m not a nerd!”

“Do somethin’ black then. Do somethin’ a nerd wouldn’t do,” Lamar said. He stood up, his big black cock now hanging right in front of Franklin’s face.

“No. I ain’t a drug dealer, or a playa-“

“That ain’t what I mean. I ain’t askin’ you to do nothin’ like that. Just do something only a nigga would do.”

“Fine,” Franklin said. He stood up and loosened his belt so his jeans sagged. “There. I guess I’m a nigga now.”

“Nah. That don’t count.

“Well, what then? You want me to fail a test? Not do homework and try to get out of it by calling the professor racist?”

“Nah,” he said. He glanced at the sexy girls on the TV again, and gave his dick a stroke. Franklin looked away, disgusted — he wasn’t really comfortable with male nudity, even if it happened all the time in Kappa Gamma Pi. Lamar saw his discomfort and smiled. “Swing downlow wit’ me.”

“What?”

“Come on, let’s go upstairs,” he said. “Niggas do that if there ain’t no girls around. Y’know, except for the niggas who scared they got small dicks.”

“Fine,” Franklin said. He didn’t have a small dick, and he knew Lamar was just goading him into proving it, but he didn’t want Lamar to go to bed thinking Franklin was insecure. Besides, in his mind, Franklin was just going to show his dick and then leave. He knew Lamar intended to go farther than that, but Franklin hadn’t thought that far ahead. He followed Lamar upstairs and into Franklin’s bedroom — since Lamar shared his with another freshman, Franklin’s was the only place they could get any privacy.

“C’mon, we sixty-nine,” Lamar said. He hopped on the bed on his back.

His desire to compare cock size seemed to disappear, and his hostility had dwindled — it almost seemed like Lamar only got confrontational in order to get Franklin to agree to go downlow, and now that he had succeeded, he didn’t care about anything else. Franklin took off his own clothes, trying not to look nervous. He was skinny compared to Lamar’s toned body, and he didn’t want it to be obvious how much weaker he was than Lamar. But he felt small and thin.

He took off his clothes, and swung his dick between his fingers. Lamar murmured — Franklin suspected that he wanted to tease Franklin for having a small cock, but then saw that it wasn’t small, so he kept his mouth shut. Franklin bristled with pride.

Much to Franklin’s surprise, Lamar took his dick in hand and stroked it. He guided it to his own cock, and he rubbed them both together until both shafts were rock-hard.

Franklin had never “jousted” before. He knew Lamar had — he had set up a blowbang with Todd and a few seniors, and they all said that Lamar enjoyed jousting to a weird degree. He had insisted on touching dicks with every man there. Now Franklin awkwardly submitted as Lamar stroked both shafts at once.

Then he let go. “Alright, come on, nigga, let’s do this,” he said. He licked his lips. “I’m lettin’ you be on top cuz you the upperclassman, man,” he said. “So don’t say I never shown you respect.”

Franklin nodded, too nervous to have a response. He couldn’t believe he was really “on the downlow” now; it felt like something that only happened in the movies. He swung his body around so his crotch was above Lamar’s face, and he lowered his rapidly-limpening dick until it hit Lamar’s tongue.

He instantly rocketed back to full erection as his shaft melted into Lamar’s warm mouth. He groaned, and opened his own mouth long enough for Lamar to shove his dick in.

Franklin gagged at first, then realized the taste wasn’t really bad — he had expected it to taste worse than it did. It really tasted a lot like pussy, he thought. There was a certain bitterness, and a fruit-like scent from Lamar’s soap, all mixed with the chemical rubber of the condom he had put on before the girl kicked him out, and an afterscent of cocoa butter.

“Fuck yeah, nigga, fuck yeah…” Lamar said over and over. The words were clear because of Franklin’s dick in his mouth — it sounded more like ook uhh ihha, oooah — but Franklin could tell exactly what he was saying. The veins of his cockshaft throbbed in Franklin’s mouth.

The flavor of precum rocketed to the forefront of his mind. It was salty and sweet and sour all at once, and the taste was so powerful that Franklin couldn’t think of anything else. He even forgot that his own dick was sliding in and out of Lamar’s mouth and leaking its own precum.

Then Lamar slapped him on the asscheek, which reminded Franklin he was doing something gay. He blushed and gagged all over again as Lamar’s dick hit the back of his throat. Despite his discomfort, his own manhood was brimming with orgasmic energy — this was perhaps the best orgasm of his life.

Franklin realized he was going to cum only seconds before he did. He instinctively slammed his hips down, shoving his dick all the way into Lamar’s mouth.

Then he grunted and moaned as cum flowed from his dick. It felt like an especially big load, and it coated Lamar’s tongue. Lamar choked and sputtered, but he didn’t stop cumming.

His body wracked with pleasure, Franklin moaned. He could feel Lamar’s throat tightened and squeezing his dick, which made Franklin’s orgasm continue until it was nothing more than a series of painfully exquisite aftershocks rocking his spine.

At last, Lamar forced Franklin’s dick out of his mouth. He coughed and gagged. “Damn, nigga, ain’t you been on the downlow befo’? You ain’t s’posed to nut in a nigga’s mouth.”

“Oh, sorry,” Franklin said, breathlessly.

“You best believe you gonna take my nut too then,” Lamar said. He slammed his dick into Franklin’s throat, uncaring of how Franklin struggled to swallow it all. He rammed it in and out, and laughed when Franklin’s body tensed, his limp, spit-covered dick dragging over Lamar’s powerful chest. “Yeah, swallow that shit, nigga.”

Franklin gagged as Lamar facefucked him, but he submitted as best he could; Lamar held onto the back of Franklin’s head to be sure he didn’t pull out. His small body flailed atop Lamar’s writhing chest muscles, and Franklin felt every bolt of climax coursing through Lamar’s veins. He grunted as an orgasm overtook him.

“Yeah, nigga, take that shit, fuck yeah!” Lamar said, his voice clear and resonant now. “Hell yeah, we shoulda been on the downlow since September, nigga…”

Creamy hot cum flowed down Franklin’s throat. Lamar held his head in place so he swallowed every drop, even as Franklin’s stomach roiled and he blushed with embarrassment. The taste wasn’t even very strong because Lamar’s dick shot his load deep in Franklin’s throat, past his tongue, so he only tasted it when he choked it back up as Lamar withdrew.

Franklin spat up most of the cum, which covered Lamar’s dick. Lamar didn’t seem to notice — probably because Franklin’s body rested atop his own, blocking his view, but he stroked his limp meat and wiped it on Franklin’s face just the same.

“Damn, nigga,” Lamar said. He took a deep breath as Franklin climbed off him. He waited for Lamar to get off his bed, but he just laid there, his big body spread-eagled so he took up the entire mattress. “That was good downlow shit. Fuck yeah… I guess you is a real black guy after all.”

Respecting Coach Browne

Here’s a sample from Respecting Coach Browne, a new tale from the All-Strong League! This is hot black dilf-coach on college-jock action!

 

“You better be sorry, boy,” Coach Browne said. “One!”

Jamal hesitated, then did a pushup. Once he got started, he kept on doing them, grunting with each ascension.

“Two. Three. Four.” Coach Browne counted and placed one hand on Jamal’s ass to guide his lower back and keep him from arching his spine. “Five. You know what grade you getting in Fundamentals of Team Sports?”

“You give grades for that?”

“Hell yeah. And if you come to class and you remember to bring your jockstrap most of the time, you get an A,” Coach Browne said. “Six. Seven.”

“That’s like twenty. You ain’t even countin’!”

“You shut that fool mouth, boy,” he said. The more he interacted with Jamal today, the less he wanted to give him a break. One of the linebackers — Harvey — was a good thrower and had been a quarterback in high school; if push came to shove, he’d be a fine quarterback.

But Coach Browne didn’t want Harvey to be the quarterback. He would never have admitted why: because Harvey was white, and not just white, but a blond Nordic-type. He looked like a quarterback. Coach Browne didn’t want to make the only blond man on the team the quarterback. He had written a letter to ESPN last year, and got it read on-air, complaining about teams that seemed to have a rule of only putting white people in the quarterback position. It would look terrible for him to now take one of the few white men on the team and make him a quarterback.

“Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen,” he said. He was deliberately only counting every other push-up or so. He didn’t want to let Jamal finish this without a struggle.

Jamal scowled at him. He must be having trouble now, Coach Browne thought, because his arms shook and sweat beaded on his shoulders.

It looked like Jamal was about to snap when suddenly his cell phone rang in the pants he had crumpled up on the floor nearby. Jamal got up, went over to the pants and took the phone out. He smiled when he saw who was calling — it must be that redhead, Coach Browne decided.

“If you answer that, you get an F for my class.”

Jamal stopped, phone in hand. He looked at Coach Browne as though there was a chance he was kidding. Coach crossed his arms over his chest.

“You serious?”

“You are gonna show some respect, Jamal,” Coach Browne said. “That means you gotta occasionally tell a girl no. Or in this case, not tell her nothin’. Just don’t answer it. You got somethin’ more important to do, Jamal. Or maybe you don’t. I guess that’s your choice. You can walk out that door anytime, or you can get on the floor and do thirty-six more push-ups.”

Jamal took a deep breath. He looked like he wanted to punch Coach Browne, but he didn’t. He glanced at the phone screen then put it back in his pocket. He got on the ground again and did a push-up; he moved angrily now, like he could punish Coach Browne by doing push-ups quickly.

“Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen,” Coach Browne said. “Keep yo’ back straight, Jamal, I ain’t countin’ these.” He put his hand back on Jamal’s lower back until he straightened his spine. “Good. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty.”

He didn’t even think about what happened next. Coach Browne acted on instinct, as he saw Jamal arching his back again. He must be frustrated and having trouble focusing, no doubt thinking of that redhead pussy, so Coach Browne thought back to how his own coach got his attention when necessary.

He slipped one hand under Jamal’s boxers, slipped a finger between his sweaty asscheeks and plunged it right into his asshole. It was hot and moist and hairy, and it was both gross to Coach Browne as well as strangely arousing. Jamal’s asshole squeezed around Coach’s finger.

“Aw, fuck!” Jamal gasped. He stopped mid-push, and his shoulders trembled nervously. He bit his lip.

“Don’t stop, boy.”

He did another push-up, slowly and tremulously, as though if he moved too fast his asshole might shatter completely. When he lifted himself back up, it forced Coach Browne’s finger in even deeper, which made Jamal shudder with pain.

“Twenty-one,” he said.

“Coach…” He winced.

“You takin’ a long time to do fifty push-ups, boy,” Coach Browne said. He wiggled his finger in Jamal’s ass, making the young man yelp and drop to his elbows and knees. “Get back up, Jamal. Do I got yo’ attention now?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“You wanna walk out that door?”

Jamal bit his lip. “Kinda.”

“Well, go right ahead,” Coach Browne said. “But if you wanna be on this team, and if you wanna get a passing grade in Fundamentals of Team Sports, you stay right there and show me a little respect.”

Jamal struggled through another push-up.

Linebackers Downlow

Here’s a new sample chapter, from a hot story called Linebackers Downlow, the tale of a college football team whose linebackers don’t quite have the physique to get laid like most of the other players. Be forewarned: this book is about curvy, powerful, macho guys who aren’t sculpted Hollywood hunks; they have hairy chests, arms and backs. Caveat emptor, motherfuckers. This story is part of the Str8 Studs Downlow series.

Once again, the party dwindled and Jason was left behind. He was a senior, a starting football player and a popular jock… with the guys. His fellow teammates all thought he was hilarious. The cheerleaders thought he was funny and liked getting piggy-back rides from him because he was so big.

But when push came to shove, those cheerleaders went off to screw the brains off the quarterback and running backs with six-pack abs. Jason and his fellow linebackers were left behind, the least popular players on the Jacksonville University squad.

“Am I fat?” Jason asked himself for what felt like the millionth time this week. He knew that objectively the answer was no — he didn’t have a ton of fat. But he was more than six and a half feet tall, and he was covered in just enough paunch that it was obvious which position on the team he played.

So now this party had dwindled to just him and the other four linebackers on the team. It was a perfect summary of the way Jason’s football career went — he worked hard with the team; he struggled with them; he played along with them; he coped with their cockiness; he sat behind and watched while they fucked all the hot chicks.

“Guess we’re alone again,” said Rick, another one of the linebackers. “I really thought that blonde was gonna suck my dick.”

Nobody responded. Jason wanted to tell Rick that there was never any chance she was going to suck his dick — that had been obvious to Jason, who saw her flirting politely with Rick before moving on to one of the handsome basketball players. Rick grabbed at his crotch with one big, meaty hand.

Rick was probably the fattest of the linebackers, but even he wasn’t fat. He was powerful; he was also probably the strongest of the linebackers. He just had a generous layer of padding on top.

Aside from Rick and Jason, there was the burly dreadlocked black man, Dante; the fresh-faced redneck Garraty and the hairy-as-hell Vinnie, all of whom looked nervously between each other. It was Garraty who sighed and ran into the other room, returning moments later with a stack of magazines.

“Well, hosses,” he said. “Guess we gotta do what we gotta do.” The magazines had naked women all over them, petite blondes and brunettes cavorting with each other and with a bevy of smooth, six-packed studs. Jason was annoyed.

Garraty took off his shirt and then put his cowboy hat back on his head — he never went without it, except during a game. He smiled his youthful freshman grin, as though he still had hope he’d get girls when he was a senior. Jason was annoyed by his optimism.

“Let’s do this, boys,” he said with an enthusiastic shout. He clapped his hands together, then grabbed at Dante’s dick.

Dante jumped and backed away, “Yo, man, hey, no homo!”

Garraty laughed. “What? You wanna circlejerk or not?”

“Not.”

Jason felt himself blush at the thought of a circlejerk. He had assumed they were just going to jack off to the magazines, probably go separate corners of the locker room. Did people really circlejerk? He thought that was just a punchline and a way to scare freshmen.

Vinnie and Rick both seemed to think it was normal. They teased Dante, calling him a prude. “Probably can’t get it up,” Rick said with a knowing smile.

Dante sighed and looked away, and he caught Jason’s eye. Everyone then turned to Jason, who blushed even harder. He always felt exposed in the locker room — he wasn’t as comfortable with nudity as most of his teammates. But then, most of his teammates had six-pack abs. Jason wasn’t ashamed of his dick size, which was ample, though he and the other linebackers had talked about it once and come to the conclusion that their height made their dicks seem shorter, since all five got teased for it from time to time despite having larger than average cocks. The shorter you are, the longer your dick appears to be in relation to your thigh.

But Jason didn’t want to be the one to start a real conflict over it — Rick was overbearing and would want them all to circlejerk, and it would turn into an argument. “Ain’t really my cup of tea,” Jason said, “But if’n y’all want it, let’s do this shit.”

He was annoyed to realize he should have moved — Vinnie was to his right, so that’s whose cock Jason touched. He stroked it and let out a groan of disgust. “Man, yer cock feels like a fucking uncooked greasy Italian sausage.”

Vinnie burst into laughter and pumped his hips so his cock flopped around. It was already half-hard, the foreskin now fully retracted and the head getting thicker by the moment.

The main thing he didn’t like about jacking Vinnie off — aside from the general idea of touching another man’s penis — was that Vinnie was the hairiest one here. They were all pretty hairy, chests, back, thighs and arms covered in fur; Rick was blond; Dante had naturally kinky black hair, while Garraty and Jason were thick and brown.

Vinnie was like a sasquatch, which is exactly what some on the team called him. He was covered head-to-toe in dense tangles of Mediterranean hair, which he seemed alternately proud of despite the teasing and ashamed of from time to time, mainly when it kept him from getting laid.

It felt like he was pushing his hand into jungle undergrowth, he thought, and the hairs, slick with moisture from (Jason hoped) a shower, stuck to Jason’s body where they collided.

The five linebackers had pulled into a tight circle so they could look at the magazines, which Garraty had opened to a few random pages laid out on the floor and bench in the center of the locker aisle. Garraty was to Jason’s left, so that’s who began stroking Jason off as the circlejerk got into full swing.

“Yo, if any of y’all get yo’ nut on me, I will beat yo’ ass,” Dante said. He was gingerly stroking off Garraty, who looked at him with an exaggerated frown, then kissed him on the grizzled cheek.

Dante glared at him sternly. He probably wanted to fight about it, as Dante was always quick to throw a punch over anything that insulted his manhood. But coach had made it clear anyone who fought — anywhere, but especially in the locker room — would be kicked off the team, and that appeared to be enough motivation for Dante to let it slide.

Oh shit, the linebackers is circlejerkin’!

They all groaned — no one wanted to be caught at this, even if they knew the rest of the team would keep it quiet. That was just the way they operated. Jason focused on himself despite the tension, as he realized he wasn’t fully hard. He didn’t want to be the only one who couldn’t do it.

He stared at the sexiest photo he could see, a pair of stunning redhead girls sixty-nining. They had perfect pussies, he thought and finally felt his dick stiffen to its fullest extent. He felt a few drops of precum lubricate Garraty’s fingers.

Damn Rick, you got big fuckin’ fingers, ya damn hillbilly! Why couldn’t you have dainty fingers like that chick in the photo?

It was Dante who came first, grunting and shooting a load so unexpectedly it made the others laugh. He had been so reluctant, Jason thought, it was strange he came first. His dark body jiggled and he closed his eyes as he sprayed his nut all over the magazines. He had a gut that shook, his thuggish tattoos barely visible through the sweat and dark skin.

As the circle closed and Vinnie grabbed Garraty’s cock, Jason felt Vinnie get close — his balls crawled up in his sac, and his dick throbbed. Cum flowed into his cockshaft, palpably pulsating beneath Jason’s fingers. Jason was shocked at the realization he was going to get cum on his fingers, and he almost stopped then made himself keep going. If Vinnie came, at least he wouldn’t have to touch the man’s hairy body anymore.

Vinnie grunted and said something in Italian, spraying one fat wad of jizz in a giant blob on the bench in the center of the circle. “Direct hit!” Vinnie shouted — he had covered the sexy photo of lesbian redheads.

“Thank god, you hairy wop,” Jason said with a laugh. He grabbed at Garraty’s dick then, glad to touch someone only moderately hairy. “Ya ain’t have to nut on the redheads, jackass.”

“Oh yeah, redneck, there’s no rule about interference in circlejerk, ya knows,” he said.

“Wha-?”

Jason felt like gagging as Vinnie came up behind him and hugged him close. Vinnie’s powerful arm encircled Jason’s chest, and he mockingly played with both of Jason’s tits. Jason blushed — he wasn’t fat, as he had told himself over and over, but he hardly had bodybuilder’s pecs either. That just wasn’t how linebackers were built. The other players had made fun of his “tits” more than a few times.

Dense pubic and chest hair scratched at Jason’s bak and ass, and he even felt a slimy, cum-slickened cock against his ass. Jason protested, but everyone else laughed as though it was the biggest joke in the world, even Dante, and Jason didn’t want to be the only one who “didn’t get it”. If he just gave in, he thought, and hoped, Vinnie might give up soon.

Rick shot his load while Jason was adjusting to the brillo-like feel of Vinnie’s body behind him, and the smell of cum was now so strong in the air that Jason wanted to just give up. But they’d tease him forever, so he was determined to finish, and ideally, not last.

It was down to him and Garraty, the relatively small cowboy and freshman linebacker. He had barely played in any games yet. He used Jason’s dick to pull him closer, until their dicks were both touching.

“This is what we call a Double Hog-Ride back in Montana,” he said. He spat into his hands as he used them both to stroke both cocks at once. Jason was horrified to see his dickshaft mash into Garraty’s, but he had to admit it did feel better than an ordinary handjob. Plus he wasn’t touching anything, his hands were free since Garraty used both his.

They both nutted at once too. It felt so good that it came on suddenly, and both dicks were coated in semen. Jason’s muscles roiled beneath the layer of padding that caused him so much embarassment, and their semen mixed as it spread over both shafts. It dripped down their thighs and ballsacks, and onto the few dry spots of the magazines below.

“Well, fuck, we ruined my magazines,” Garraty said, “And you can bet I ain’t pickin’ em up. They’s gross.”

“Just leave ‘em there. The janitor’ll get them,” Vinnie said. He was already getting dressed. Jason felt bad about agreeing, but he certainly wasn’t going to pick up the cum-soaked rags. He was embarrassed enough about what happened he didn’t care about the details, he just wanted to get dressed and get out of there. Hopefully before anyone else from the team saw what they were doing.