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First-Time Jocks in the Dorm

Here’s the beginning of First-Time Jocks in the Dorm, a new story by Happiest Ending! It’s full of outrageous interracial action!

Meathead made no effort to hide the fact that he was jacking off. Almost as soon as the lights went off, Meathead took his dick in hand. He had porn magazines — actual magazines, as though this was the nineties — stashed under his mattress. Greg was too embarrassed to even say that he was awake.

Greg rather liked it better when Eduardo — or “Meathead” — was always gone. Greg had been terrified when Meathead showed up to the dorm in September. He had been a huge, hulking brute, like the bullies who had teased Greg back in high school but somehow even bigger and hairier though he was barely older than those bullies had been. He didn’t look like a college freshman.

Greg was no weakling anymore either, but Meathead made him feel like that ninth-grade loser all over again. Greg was on the golf team, so he was a jock too — he even had an athletic scholarship. But no one really thought about golfers like that.

Meathead played football. He was a tight end, and he was tall and dark-skinned because he was half-Latino, and he had a face like a retarded bulldog, or at least that was how Greg saw it. He was widely regarded as stupid, which was how he had gotten the nickname (and why he had gotten a flotilla of Asian math nerds tutoring him and taking tests for him).

But Meathead had had a serious girlfriend at the beginning of the year. Her name was Suzie; she was beautiful, and she was a total bitch. Greg was not surprised that she had dumped Meathead. He wished she hadn’t only because Meathead went from spending all his time with her to spending all his time naked, flopping his massive dick in front of Greg’s face.

And now he was jacking off, not even trying to hide it. Greg rolled over. He coughed lightly, hoping to make sure Meathead knew he was awake.

But Meathead just ignored him, pounding away. He used both hands. The porn magazine rested on his strapping chest now, he wasn’t looking at it anymore. The smell of precum filled the tiny dorm room, made even more powerful by the added astringency of his sweat — Meathead seemed to sweat constantly.

Meathead stood. Was he still jacking off? Greg thought so. Was he looking at him? He stood over the bunk beds where Greg lay. Greg had his eyes closed and he didn’t want to open them.

“Hey, Greg, you awake?” Meathead asked. His voice was impossibly deep — was he really a freshman? It seemed unlikely — and it made Greg’s whole body cringe.

Greg had the lower bunk, so if he sat up, his head would be right at Meathead’s crotch height. He knew that well because he was often sitting there reading when Meathead came back to the dorm and worked out, or sometimes just stood there naked on the phone with his girl.

“Meathead, man-“

“Hey, you wanna jack off? C’mon, let’s circlejerk,” Meathead said with an excited leer. He sat down on Greg’s bunk at the foot of the bed. Greg rolled over and sat up.

Ronald Stump the Studly Hunk

Here’s a sample from the beginning of Ronald Stump the Studly Hunk, a new tale of hardcore gay alpha male erotica!


Chad sighed. Was Mr. Stump going to stand him up? He would have thought not, but he was almost an hour late. He had come to assume politicians would always be late — a part of him had believed Ronald Stump’s claim that he would be different; a part of him had hoped Stump would be different; but mostly, Chad suspected that Stump would not be different at all.

“There you are, Mr. Duggleton,” said a suited man who appeared next to Chad. He nodded. “I’m Jerry, Mr. Stump’s campaign manager. He’s ready to see you now.”

Chad nodded and shook his hand, wondering where Stump had come from — Chad was sitting in the front lobby of the hotel, and he hadn’t seen Stump enter at all. He must have come in through a service entrance, Chad decided, presumably to avoid the mob of journalists outside.

He followed Jerry through the sumptuously decorated hotel. It was the nicest hotel in Des Moines, and Jerry wondered idly how much it cost per night. He had just started his first real career job, working for a nonprofit called the Gay and Lesbian Alliance, and while he didn’t make a lot of money, he made enough, for the first time in his life, to not have to worry about paying his bills. The thought of spending the thousands of dollars a night this hotel clearly cost made Jerry nervous, like he had to beg his landlord for an extension all over again.

“Mr. Stump is very excited for this opportunity,” Jerry said. “He’s wanted to reach out to the LGBT community for a long time. Honestly it’s my fault he hasn’t, blame me for that. He’s been telling me for months that we’ve got to make some allies there. And he’s totally right.”

“I see,” Chad said. He didn’t really believe Jerry — not that he thought Jerry was lying, exactly, but it made sense for Mr. Stump to focus on consolidating the other wings of the Democratic Party. He had risen to prominence with a series of sharply worded statements in support of gay marriage and other issues in accordance with Chad’s views. The LGBT community nationwide had rallied around him, and rocketed him to the top of the Democratic Party’s primary polling in the early months. So it made sense that Mr. Stump didn’t need to seek any formal endorsements from any gay civil rights groups.

Or at least, he hadn’t needed it. Now that the first primaries and caucuses loomed closer, some of the more minor candidates were getting traction. Mr. Stump’s endless barrage of media-grabbing statements dominated the news, leaving Vermont Governor Paul Thandrasepkatar to get some key endorsements, especially from a handful of celebs. Stump had come out on the wrong side of the police brutality debate, which made it hard for the ultra-leftists to support him. Governor Thandrasepkatar had come out in support of gay adoption and anti-discrimination statutes, which Mr. Stump couldn’t support without being seen as a flip-flopper. So despite Stump’s initial success, Governor Thandrasepkatar was vacuuming up support.

Chad represented one of the few gay civil rights organizations that hadn’t yet endorsed Thandrasepkatar, and he knew Stump was going to be desperate for a way back in to the good graces of the LGBT community. He wondered what Stump would say today to dominate the news cycle tomorrow, and he hoped it wasn’t at his expense.

Chad was so lost in thought he didn’t notice that Jerry was taking him downstairs, to the basement. He wasn’t going to a hotel room at all. Jerry stopped in front of a door marked SAUNA. He smiled and held the door open, motioning for Chad to squeeze in past the pair of burly bodyguards who watched there.

“Mr. Stump is getting a steam,” Jerry said. “But he’ll see you now. Feel free to take off your clothes.”

There was a little changing area in the front of the sauna. Chad entered and nervously took off his clothes. He had always loved saunas — that was his favorite part of his recent trip to Finland, which was a second honeymoon with his husband (their first had been marred by a terrorist attack and a food poisoning outbreak that turned the trip into a total disaster). It was only as Chad wrapped a towel around his waist and walked into the sauna that he realized he had posted about the trip, and his effusive love for saunas, on Facebook.

That was why Stump had arranged for a meeting here. He had looked through Chad’s Facebook timeline until he found out what he liked: saunas. It was just a brief fad, Chad thought, not something he thought was going to be a lifelong interest. It felt more like pandering than giving him what he really wanted. It was hard to take notes in the steamy sauna too, which made Chad wonder if part of Stump’s plan was to make it difficult for Chad to keep a record of what he said.

“Good afternoon, Chad,” Mr. Stump said. “Please, call me Ronald. Don’t you love this sauna? It’s the greatest, I’m a yuge fan of saunas.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Chad said. “Well… Ronald, I’m sure you realize-“

“Wait, wait, Chad, let’s not jump right into business,” Mr. Stump said. “Let’s just chat a bit. I’d like to get to know you.”

Chad shrugged as he sat down. The sauna was so misty and dim that he hadn’t really seen Stump until he got to the bench he sat on. Then he saw that Stump was stark naked, not even wearing a towel.

His body was much better than it looked like with clothes on, Chad thought. Stump had a barrel chest, not at all saggy from age, and though the hair on his head was ruddy and balding, the hair on his chest was fresh, dark and just thick enough. He was stronger than Chad had thought he would be, and perhaps most surprisingly, he had a massive cock resting between his sweaty thighs.

This was definitely not how Chad had expected this interview to progress. He had had a meeting with nearly every presidential candidate in the last cycle, and they were all boring, humdrum interviews. He had never gotten a major scoop or done anything exciting with a candidate — he wondered how he could bring this up without looking like a queery little Strump fanboy excited to see his crush’s cock. That wasn’t at all how Chad felt; he had never thought of Strump as sexy until just now, when his naked, sweat-dappled body was right in front of Chad’s eyes.