Tag Archives: gay university

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.

Pitching and Catching

Here comes the newest story of jock erotica by Randall Eisenhorn, alongside Jake Sexton in Pitching and Catching!

 

The catcher and pitcher have an important relationship in baseball, and the relationship between Jack the star pitcher and the big, muscled catcher Seth is going to take an interesting and sexy turn! Jack is a team player, but he must go above and beyond when Seth wants to cash in on an unusual promise. Is Jack willing to do what it takes to please his catcher, including doing some “catching” of a different sort?

This gay erotica short story features baseball, hot man on man action and straight jocks going gay and loving it.

Str8 Till Dark: Floormates

Here’s the entirety of Str8 Till Dark: Floormates, the latest entry in the Str8 Till Dark series! It is also available in a fabulous value bundle Gay College Erotica, Vol. 1!

Earlier today, Willie had realized that the only other of his floormates to be in the building right now was Federico. At the time, Willie had just sighed and shook his head — he knew that Federico would come over and annoy him sooner or later. If he’d had the money, he would have gone to get a hotel room for the night instead.

That’s because Federico was an Italian exchange student. He came from Venice, where (he said) his father was a well-known local politician. He was a big burly foreigner with a hairy chest — like a seriously hairy chest, like he was a werewolf, like Willie couldn’t imagine why he didn’t shave — a loud voice and many annoying habits. Willie didn’t want to be rude, but he really did not want to spend the day with Federico.

So when Willie awoke to find that Federico was in his room in the middle of the night, he was angry. Federico had been following him around. First he was trying to get Willie to lift weights with him; Federico did that every morning and reacted like it was a scandal when Willie said he never lifted weights. Then Federico had wanted to eat dinner with him — Federico had crackers, cured meats and a slab of some stinky cheese, which Willie steadfastly refused to eat. It stank up the entire third floor of Mannheim Tower, and probably other floors too, but Willie didn’t check. Lastly Federico walked to the shower stark naked and stood in Willie’s doorway talking to him in thickly accented English about the weather.

His fat prick just dangled there between his legs, drawing Willie’s gaze to it. Willie gulped.

Federico had been walking around the dorm naked most of the semester. It was normal for him in all-male environments, or so he said. He was shocked that Americans didn’t feel the same way. Back in Italy, he said, men weren’t worried about seeing each other naked — it was normal, and only squeamish losers got worked up over it. The RA had insisted he wear clothes to and from the shower though, and Federico had grudgingly complied.

But apparently Federico had interpreted that rule as applying only when the RA was actually here in Mannheim Tower. So now that it was the first day of spring break, he stood there in Willie’s doorway with his fat, uncut cock laying greasily against his thigh. It made Willie so nervous he could do nothing more than grunt and nod as Federico talked.

“We could be doing fun things. We have entire floor to usselves, floormate,” Federico said. Someone had jokingly called him a floormate back in September, and Federico had needed an explanation of what it meant and how to use -mate as a suffix. Federico thought it was great and had been calling everyone floormates all semester. Federico cackled as Willie blushed, trying to ignore the bare cock beckoning Willie’s eyes.

Willie had simply declined to hang out; he said he had to study, which was technically accurate even if Willie had intention of doing so. Willie ignored Federico’s irritated expression, praying that he could get through the night without Federico trying to get him to drink (Federico didn’t seem to understand that he wasn’t old enough to legally drink in America, and he looked mature enough that it was never an issue; everyone simply assumed he was over twenty-one). He felt bad about rejecting Federico, who had been struggling to make friends in America, but he simply made Willie nervous, especially with that bare cock.

So when Willie woke up in the middle of the night to see that Federico had crept into his room, he was both scared and annoyed. What did Federico want with him? Willie was groggy at first, and he didn’t fight back when Federico told him to move over.

Then Federico lay down in the narrow dorm bed alongside Willie, who gasped in shock — Federico was naked. His hairy body slid under the covers, pushing Willie against the wall. Federico was much bigger than Willie so he took up most of the bunkspace.

“Hello, good night, Willie,” Federico said. His smooth, silken accent was deep and booming, echoing in the dorm room and in Willie’s ears. It made Willie shudder as a complex torrent of emotions washed over him. He couldn’t believe Federico wanted to share a bed with him — was this normal in Italy?

“Federico, what are you doing?!” I-“ Willie exclaimed, stopping only when Federico kissed him right on the lips.

Every part of Willie’s mind told him to stop this, to get up and leave if he couldn’t push Federico out of the bunk. It would be humiliating and embarrassing to do that, but it was better than making out with an sasquatchian Italian man. His mind screamed at him to stand up and flee from here.

Yet Willie didn’t do that. He stayed right where he was. For some reason as soon as he felt Federico’s broad, strapping chest muscles and his strong tongue pushing into Willie’s mouth, Willie didn’t want to fight him, nor did he want to fight against this experience. He just wanted to kiss Federico until there was no more kissing left to be had.

There was something intense and arousing about kissing Federico on his soft lips. He was powerful and dominant, his corded muscle chest writhing atop Willie’s body. Willie’s skin wasn’t perfectly smooth, but compared to the dense layer of fur atop Federico’s chest, Willie seemed as smooth as a porcelain doll.

“There are no girls here,” Federico said. He hung his head sadly. “I went for a walk, and there were none of them. None of girls here.”

“Yeah. The campus is shut down, Federico. We’re not even really supposed to be here,” Willie said. That was true. They had to get special permission to stay here after the campus closed for the vacation. Federico couldn’t go back to Italy for just one week, and Willie’s parents had been unable to pick him up until tomorrow. The GHU-Albany administration pushed him very hard to find a friend or family to stay with for the night, but Willie had refused — he paid top dollar for this dorm, and he wanted to use it.

Now he wished he hadn’t. His old high school friend Charlie would have picked him up — he went to college just an hour to the south, so his parents could pick Willie up on the way back after getting Charlie. That would have been simpler, and he wouldn’t have to deal with this incredible, alarming, passionate and shocking experience.

“Federico…”

His hands moved of their own accord, gripping Federico’s back. He was a very hairy man, but his back was smooth and unblemished, a milky brown color, though in the dark, Willie couldn’t see anything except for Federico’s shadowy face. He had a dense beard which scratched at Willie’s scruffy face as they kissed.

“Sssh…” Federico said. “You do not need to be embarrassed.” He reached behind himself, where he wrapped his fingers around Willie’s cock — he had to stick his hand under Willie’s boxer shorts. He gave it a stroke. Just one stroke, but somehow it was enough. It sent a little electric tingling sensation up Willie’s body.

Willie was too nervous to get hard. Federico just kept stroking. It was only when Willie’s hands roamed from Federico’s rippling back to his furry chest that Willie felt a surge of energy in his cock. It got hard and jabbed straight up in the air, throbbing beneath Federico’s touch.

“Good. You are a real man. Do not be embarrassed,” Federico said. He mounted Willie’s chest, the thick nest of hair around his balls and cock dragging along Willie’s smooth skin.

Willie realized with a fright that Federico intended for Willie to suck his cock. He didn’t even seem to be willing to sixty-nine — which Willie had never wanted to do before, but he could consider it now, and he thought it would at least be fair — he just stroked Willie’s dick as he brought his own cock up to Willie’s mouth. Its silhouette loomed in the dark in front of Willie’s face.

“What, uh… what are you doing?”

“I am to be putting my penis into your mouth,” he said, cocking his head to the side and frowning as though Willie should have known that. He aimed his rock-hard, uncut cock towards Willie’s mouth. “Do not be embarrassed. I will not tell anyone.” He paused. “It is sucking. The word is blowjob, yes?”

“What?”

“Do Americans be not doing that?”

“What?”

“No, I am certain you are doing it. I do not know the words that are right,” Federico said. “Like rap stars do it. On the lowdown.”

“You mean downlow?”

“Yes! Downlow. That is correct and factual,” Federico said. He beamed like he was a detective who had just solved a case. “I am bigger so you will be sucking on me. You have nice big mouth, and no beard to touch me in the penis or dick. I do not like beard hair.”

“Uh… are you going to suck me off too?”

Federico paused. “No. I am bigger than you. Bigger men do not do that in Italy. You will suck my dick now, yes? Do not continue complaining. It is not sexy.”

Willie’s pride told him to demand that Federico share blowjobs. He had never fucked around on the downlow, but if he were going to do it, he wanted to do it equally. He realized that Italian culture didn’t work that way, but Willie didn’t care about that — he wasn’t in Italy, he was in upstate New York.

But Willie’s mind and his body didn’t work together. Willie opened his mouth even as he wanted to make Federico compromise and reciprocate. Federico took Willie’s open mouth as an agreement and aimed his cocktip right for his wiggling tongue and his tight throat.

It was only half-hard, but it was very big so it felt hard right away. Then it got harder and harder as Willie choked on its massive, salty head. It tasted both good and bad, but Willie was focused on his embarrassment — he couldn’t believe he was actually sucking cock. Not only was he giving a man a blowjob, he was giving the weirdo Italian exchange student a blowjob.

He had never even seen (much less tasted) an uncircumcised cock in person, so this was a major shock for him. It tasted clean and fleshy and it pulsated like an alien creature in Willie’s mouth. That foreskin felt like so much extra flesh Willie wondered if it was normal. It didn’t seem right.

“Yes, you are good, William. Very good. I am approving,” Federico said with a groan.

As Willie sucked, Federico continued to jack Willie off, reaching behind himself to do so. He moaned and crooned like he was trying to seduce Willie, who vacillated between finding the sounds disgusting and alarming and finding them arousing and charming. He rubbed Willie’s face with his thumb and stroked his lips.

Then the hand jacking Willie off roamed down to his balls. Federico played with them very briefly before rubbing the taint between Willie’s balls and his ass. Willie’s flesh was very sensitive there, and the touch made Willie shudder with desire. His finger moved lower and lower, closer to Willie’s ass.

“You are nice penis-sucker,” Federico said. His accent was thicker now that he was aroused.

Before Willie could do anything else, Federico’s finger pushed into his ass. It sent a shiver of pain up Willie’s spine, but also a shudder of intense pleasure. He lifted his legs up — again his body acted on instinct even as his mind told him not to — and spread his own asscheeks to give Federico better access to it.

Then Federico pulled his cock away from Willie’s mouth. Thick gobs of saliva connected his lips to Federico’s shaft, until Willie’s hand tentatively stroked that massive meat. He had never felt anything like it, he thought, hot and spasming beneath his fingers, precum dripping in milky rivulets down the shaft, coating his foreskin and Willie’s fingertips. Willie groaned and Federico moaned.

“You are good at being girl-boy,” Federico said. “And you have nice girl-ass. It is… culo grassoccio.” For some reason when he said culo grassoccio, it made Willie grunt and blush, swooning with desire. Italian, he thought, was such a sexy language. Willie didn’t know what Federico said, but it turned him on.

Willie gave up on getting Federico to reciprocate. He decided to just go with the flow. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so willing to let Federico fuck him, but he was — he wanted it more than anything.

“I will do put in your ass,” Federico said softly. Though his tone was low, his words were loud and expressive, and they hung in the air, resonating in Willie’s ears.

As Willie rolled over onto his belly and stuck his ass in the air, Federico pulled out a tube of lube he had snuck over, Willie recalled Federico’s stunning success with girls. He seemed to be able to seduce any woman, from mousy shy nerds to loudmouthed black girls, he got them all. It annoyed their other floormates because, to them, Federico was an annoying weirdo who didn’t do anything right. Somehow the girls just loved him for it.

It had seemed silly when Willie’s other floormates pointed out how successful Federico was. Willie didn’t think it was a real phenomenon — Federico was just handsome, and American women loved Italian men. But he had come to admit that Federico was more than just charming, he was a sexy beast who oozed charisma in his broken English. There was something special there, that was why he was good with girls.

And now he had even seduced Willie, who blushed intensely as he lowered his head to the pillow. Federico gently guided Willie’s hips up in the air, so Federico could kneel on his knees while Willie’s ass lined up with with his cock.

“Here I am, entering you now,” Federico whispered.

A jolt of pain hit Willie’s backside, but it lasted only a moment before a slow, melting sense of pleasure erupted deep within him. It was so potent that it felt faint, too powerful to be palpable at first, growing slowly over time. But Willie could sense how incredible it would be; if he gave it time to blossom, he thought, it would overwhelm anything.

“Va bene. Va bene, it is good,” Federico said. Willie didn’t know what that meant, but he got the impression it was supposed to be soothing.

He was surprised at how little it hurt once Federico got started. He kissed the back of Willie’s neck and rubbed his shoulders as his cock slipped in, centimeter by centimeter.

The pain was still there. It didn’t go away, and it even grew. But it was increasingly overpowered by the intense, throbbing pleasure that made Willie writhe in exquisite agony.

When Federico leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Willie’s chest, Willie moaned. They kissed there, and for Willie, it could have lasted a lifetime. He had never experienced a kiss like that. With his asshole stretching to accept Federico’s Italian cockmeat, Willie experienced an intense connection between them. He could feel every inch of Federico’s muscle and his powerful cock sliding into him, his bulging muscles and the clean sweat that dappled his skin now.

His body hair was no longer a turn-off, and neither were his muscles. Willie could see now why some women were into that. He couldn’t imagine anything he wanted more right now. He couldn’t even remember what he found appealing about girls.

“You have beautiful bottom, William…” Federico murmured. “I will make you feel such pleasure. You will explode onto my hand.”

At last Federico’s hand explored downward. He tweaked each of Willie’s nipples in turn, sending little sparks of bliss through Willie’s body. Willie’s skin puckered and he gasped when he realized where Federico was going.

Federico’s hand grabbed Willie’s cock. He groaned as though touching Willie’s dick was almost enough to send him over the edge. Willie moaned for the same reason.

Again Willie had no idea how long it lasted. His orgasm began from the moment Federico touched his dick. It continued forever, and Willie squirmed within Federico’s grasp. The more he wiggled, the more Federico’s cock moved inside Willie, sending shockwaves of pleasure up his spine, and the more Federico’s breathing sped up as he experienced his own intense orgasmic pleasure.

Willie thought that was it. He didn’t think he could take any more; he didn’t think it was possible to feel more or experience any more intensity shaking his body.

But Federico, it seemed, had other plans. Federico could take Willie to the next level.

And as he began pounding hard onto Willie’s ass, that was exactly what happened. The sensation was so intense that Willie screamed, in shock and pain and bliss and desire and pure, unadulterated lust. He screamed because there was no one in the dorm to hear him anyway, so why not?

His muscles turned to jelly. They were weak and insubstantial compared to Federico’s body anyway. Willie just submitted. He would have collapsed onto the mattress but Federico kept him in position, bent over a pillow with his ass in the air.

The prostate orgasm was so intense that Willie couldn’t even feel Federico’s hand on his cock. He was numb all over, and the only feelings he experienced were the muscle-clenching power of his climax.

“Ah, yes…” Federico’s moan made the hairs on the back of Willie’s neck stand up.

Cum sprayed into the pillow and mattress beneath him, as Willie came first. He bucked his hips, slamming his ass backwards deep onto Federico’s cock as his thick cumwad hit Federico’s fingers. That didn’t slow Federico down at all, and he cooed like he loved the feeling of semen dripping through his fingers.

As though he had been waiting for Willie to bust first — which was, in fact, precisely what he had done — Federico began pounding harder and faster now that Willie was done. He drew his dick up all the way out of Willie’s ass, then slammed his rod back in all at once.

After just a few more of those power-strokes, Federico began his own orgasm. Willie’s head was still groggy and dazed, but he was snapped back into consciousness by the feeling of white-hot cum spreading within him. It was warm and creamy and it seeped into every corner of Willie’s body.

It was an impossibly big load. Willie didn’t know a human male could shoot something so big, so much milky cum that it spread in gobs within him. It dripped down Willie’s thighs and clung to his fine blond hairs, while plastering Federico’s coarser black hairs to his skin.

“You are prestante…”

Then at last it was done. Federico slowly let his cock plop out of Willie’s ass, and when he did, Willie sighed loudly. He had never experienced anything like that — the feeling of his asshole emptying was like scratching a painful itch that Willie didn’t even know he had had.

He collapsed into a moist, sweaty heap on the mattress. He was too tired to do anything but submit as Federico gently caressed his back muscles. Federico kissed him on the spine, his lips traveling down to Willie’s ass. He just kissed each asscheek one time.

“Thank you, William,” Federico said. His velvety voice purred and made Willie desire him all over again.

But Federico just sunk onto the mattress. He wrapped his powerful body around Willie’s. He massaged Willie’s smooth skin and kissed him on the neck. His thick, luxuriant beard scratched at Willie’s face.

“You are very nice,” Federico said. “I was enjoying to be sexing… to be having sexual touching… Uh… I am apologizing. I do not remember my English words right now.”

“That’s okay,” Willie said softly. He hadn’t spoken since this started, and now he blushed. He buried his face in Federico’s biceps, blushing as though he wanted to hide even though they were alone in Willie’s dorm room (and alone on this floor, in this building and on this campus as well). Willie licked the clean sweat that stuck to Federico’s muscle.

“I am glad there was no girl here tonight,” Federico said. He whispered directly in Willie’s ear, making him shudder as aftershocks of orgasm ran through Willie’s body. “You have nice butt and your dick was feeling good in my hand. Maybe we will do this again after you come back from spring break?”

“Yes,” Willie blurted out. “We will. We’ll do this again. Whenever. We’ll find a way. We’ll figure it out. We’re together a lot, so it can’t be that hard. We’re floormates, after all.”

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.”