Date: Sun, 25 Oct 2015 09:48:10 -0600
From: Colton <coltonaalto@gmail.com>
Subject: BBC on Campus - Chapter 21

My usual disclaimers:

* My past colors everything I write, from images to personal experiences.
This story, however, is fiction.  Any resemblance to actual events or
persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

* If it is illegal for you to read this story because of your age, location
or some other reason, don't read it.

* This story depicts unprotected sex (and plenty of it). In real-life, be
safe!

* This work is copyright by the author.  Commercial use is prohibited
without permission.  Please do not republish any parts of this story
without consent of the author.

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Author's note: It's been fun writing this series, although all good things
come to an end, and this is the end of Dillinger's story (or at least this
part of it).  For readers that have persevered through it all, thanks; it's
rewarding to know you've enjoyed the story enough to keep reading.  For
those of you that have sampled only a chapter or two, maybe you'll wander
back for the rest.  And extra thanks to readers that emailed me.  I
appreciate the feedback!  Any final thoughts and comments?  Email:
coltonaalto@gmail.com.


BBC ON CAMPUS

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – SNOWBOUND IN DENVER... WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO?

Part One

Enroute from Chicago to Montana, Max and I had to change planes in Denver.
As we left the plane at DIA, Ronny bid us adieu after extracting a promise
to let him know when we were travelling next.  The hot bottom flight
attendant might be a good guy to know, in more ways than one.

Travelers were descending on DIA for the tail end of the holiday travel
season, making the airport terminal a madhouse.  To top it off, our flight
to Montana was cancelled.  A nasty winter storm had closed airports across
much of the northern Rocky Mountains.  Web apps for the airlines were
useless and customer service was a zoo, but I picked a line staffed by the
guy I judged most likely to be gay.  Maybe Max's jock whore costume would
help us one more time.

It did, although only to a degree.  The customer service rep rebooked us on
a flight the next morning, which was lucky because most of the passengers
around us were being told they might not get out of Denver for two or three
days.  He said something about being able to get us to the top of the list
because we had been in first class coming from Chicago.  Thank you, Ronny.
The customer service rep couldn't do much about overnight accommodations,
however.  The winter storm was bearing down on Denver and flights were
being cancelled in batches, resulting in far too many stranded travelers
for the available hotel rooms.  Roads in and out of the airport were
becoming treacherous, and I didn't want to risk missing our flight the next
day.  So we resigned ourselves to spending the night in the airport
terminal.  After enjoying the luxury of Tom's two bedroom hotel suite in
Chicago, we were destined for the other extreme.

Or at least I thought.  Max and I left customer service, wondering where to
eat dinner and crash for the night, when I heard a familiar voice say,
"Dude, I can't believe it's you!  I'd recognize those long dreadlocks
anywhere!"

I turned to see a wide, familiar smile beneath a long mop of bleached-blond
hair.  "Stian!" I smiled, hugging the Norwegian snowboarder.  We met at
Harvard when Stian was in law school and I was an undergrad, and we quickly
discovered an ideal sexual compatibility.  Stian was a ravenous bottom with
a fabulous, tight bubble butt, and I was a dominant top with a big black
cock that Stian loved.

Stian was amazing.  He was in his late 20s, but he looked like a teenager.
At Harvard, he got carded everywhere he went, and if anything he looked
even younger now than he had in law school.  Maybe it was the fact he was
clean shaven, not necessarily a regular occurrence when he was at Harvard.

"Where you headed?" Stian asked.

"Right now, nowhere," I replied.  "Flight's cancelled until tomorrow.  How
about you?"

"Same problem," Stian replied.  "I'm going to Aspen for a snowboarding
event over the weekend, but the airport there is socked in.  Luckily the
law firm's travel agent was monitoring the weather a couple of days ago and
got a backup reservation at the airport hotel just in case.  I have to buy
that boy a beer sometime."

"That's it?" I kidded Stian.  "A beer?  The old Stian I knew a year ago had
much better ways of showing gratitude."

Stian laughed and replied, "I still do, for the right level of service.
And I'm putting the boy on my list."  He glanced over at Max, still dressed
in his jock whore outfit.  Stian's gaze returned to me with a puzzled look.

"Stian, this is Max," I said, introducing the two blonds. "Max, Stian.  A
friend of mine from Harvard, current hot shot lawyer, former hot shot
Olympic medalist snowboarder."

The two young blonds shook hands, Max mumbling, "Pleased to meet you."  I
could tell he was intimidated by Stian, but most people were.  Stian had a
fearless confidence that came from succeeding in sports at a level most
dream about but never come close to accomplishing.  Stian loved
snowboarding, but by the time he hit 25, he was astute enough to understand
he would not spend his life on the slopes.  And he was smart enough to get
into Harvard Law School and impressive enough in person to get hired by one
of most prestigious New York law firms.

"Fledgling hot shot lawyer," Stian said, correcting me.  "You have to be,
like 45 or 50 to be a hot shot lawyer.  Unlike snowboarding, where you lose
hot shot status at 25.  I'm in the awkward two decades when I'm not
currently a hot shot."

"Hmm," I said.  "That doesn't sound right.  You'll always have permanent
hot shot status with me.  You were plenty hot doing things other than
practicing law and snowboarding."

Stian laughed.  He took a long look at Max and said, "Okay, don't tell me.
Even I can figure this out."  He paused for a minute, putting his hands out
and looking Max up and down, and said, "Got it.  Max is in the witness
protection program, and the powers-that-be understood that the last place
anyone would ever look for a blond twink would be hanging out with
Dillinger.  So Max has the perfect hiding place in the wilds of Montana.
Brilliant!"

I chuckled.  Stian could be counted on for his sense of humor.  Max was his
usual taciturn self, his big blue eyes staring but his mouth not moving.
"You're very, very close," I said to Stian.

I pondered exactly how to explain Max.  He wasn't a roommate, although it
was close, as the college rock climber lived downstairs from me in the
converted gas station.  Friend?  Partly due to his age – being a couple
of years younger than me – I didn't particularly think of Max as a
friend, although I suppose, after spending much of the last month with him,
he had become a friend of sorts.  Fuck buddy?  Yeah, although Max's
submissive side meant fuck buddy wasn't quite right.  Fuck buddies get
together periodically to fuck, but it's strictly voluntary.  With Max, he
fucked when he was told.  I had been balling the jock runner too frequently
for us to be occasional fuck buddies.  Whore?  Max was happy and eager to
give it up whenever the web app I used to list his services registered a
trick, but if I got into that with Stian it wasn't going to be standing on
a crowded concourse at DIA.  In the end I didn't offer an explanation.

My silence prompted Stian to change the subject, asking, "Hey, you got a
place to stay tonight?  Because if you don't you can crash in my room."

"Sounds infinitely better than sleeping in the terminal," I said.
"Thanks."

"This is becoming a pattern," Stian said, feigning exasperation.  "Offering
you a free bed.  First New York, now Denver."

"To say nothing of those weekends at the ski areas back east for two
winters and your apartment off Harvard Square for two years," I said.  "I
figure if you add it all up, I probably owe you about 6 months of free
lodging."

"At least," Stian replied, laughing.  "I plan to collect on the installment
plan, if you don't mind."

"With a bubble butt like yours, how could I?" I responded.

"Fuck," Stian replied.  "Here I was, looking forward to a quiet night
eating bad room service and reading boring deposition transcripts.  Instead
I'm gonna be getting my brains fucked out by a big black cock straight out
of central casting.  Heaven!"

Stian and I met at the beginning of my junior year at Harvard when Stian
was starting his second year of law school.  Having spent a decade on the
professional snowboard circuit before he went to law school, winning
Olympic medals along the way, Stian was older than most students at
Harvard, particularly the undergrads.  Age-wise, he was in the sweet spot
for men that I liked – mature, no longer a kid and having been around
the block a few times.  Stian was a dedicated bottom with a thing for dark
skin, black hair and big dicks.  So we hit it off right away, and our
relationship quickly settled into regular sex.  We were not in love, but
the fucking was consistently hot.  I had Stian to thank for knowing how to
snowboard.

Stian said things – and get away with it – that other guys could
never pull off, and he demonstrated that talent once again when he pulled
Max next to him and said, "You're invited to the party, Max, I'd love to
have you.  Have you in my ass, that is.  Your tight jeans aren't doing much
to hide your bulge, and your cock looks like it can do some damage.  Blond
twinks aren't my thing, but I don't pass on stiff cocks and lean, lanky
guys like you usually have plenty of stamina.

"But for the record, just so everybody understands the ground rules,
Dillinger is going to fuck my brains out tonight as many times as I can
coax his big black cock into my cock-starved Norwegian pussy.  I don't care
how fond you are of his dick, I am not sharing.  Understood?"  He finished
his speech by grabbing my crotch and saying, "This is mine.  All mine."  He
planted a sloppy kiss on Max's mouth.  Between grabbing my crotch and
kissing Max in the middle of the crowded concourse, we made quite a
spectacle for anyone watching.  Unconcerned, Stian followed his kiss with
Max by smooching me, his tongue playing with mine and coaxing it into his
mouth.

"Fuck," Stian said, breaking the kiss.  "I think we'll do room service in
between you boys seeding my ass."

If Max had any second thoughts, he never let on.  He liked me telling him
what to do, and he fell into step with Stian's power bottom routine without
a second thought.  Max would have bottomed for a brigade of men if I told
him to, but tonight Stian ordered him to top, and Max was entirely
comfortable taking that role.

Stian's travel agent had already rebooked Stian's flight into Aspen, but
Stian had to make arrangements to get his snowboard equipment onto the
plane.  Max and I found a couple of temporarily empty seats, and Stian left
his carry-on with us and went to endure the customer service line.

Sitting across from us was a young marine.  I didn't pay much attention to
him until it became apparent that the soldier was paying more than the
usual amount of attention to Max and me.  Particularly me.  That set off my
gaydar.  The soldier's hair was cut short, military style, and he was
dressed in fatigues and had a military duffle bag.  I caught him staring at
me and I stared back with a challenging look.  He blushed and dropped his
eyes to the ground, embarrassed to be caught.  But in moments he was
staring again, this time with a nervous, excited look.

As much as I was going to enjoy pummeling Stian's bubble butt repeatedly
over the course of the night, the gray wolf in me sensed a kill, and I
wondered about picking up the young marine.  Stian had already announced
that my cock was his to enjoy for the night, and between loaning me his
apartment for my trip to New York with Shane and giving Max and me a bed
tonight, I owed him at least that much.  Not that I wasn't going to enjoy
every inch of Stian's tight Nordic hole and enjoy it more than once.
Because of everything he had done for me in college, I owed Stian many
fucks.

Over Christmas in Chicago I had mostly hooked up with old fuck buddies.  I
hadn't had a fresh kill, so to speak, for a while, since Max and I nailed
Ronny in O'Hare, and prior to that when I seeded Toshi and Koichi, the
Asian father and son duo.  It was absurd that I was suddenly thinking about
marine ass, but the thought was intriguing.  As long as Stian's hole was
continuously occupied by cock, maybe he wouldn't be all that bothered by me
drilling the young soldier.  And if the kid had a big enough cock, he could
help keep Stian's hole happy.  The marine had the dark hair Stian liked,
and his skin suggested he might have some Latin or Asian blood, another
plus in Stian's book.  Stian might forgive me if the marine had what it
took.  It was worth a shot.

"You stuck here for the night like the rest of us?" I asked the marine.

Surprised that I had begun a conversation after my challenging look
earlier, the soldier nodded quickly and said, "Yes, sir.  Looks like I'll
be bedding down in the terminal.  Not far off what I'm used to after living
in the barracks."  The marine was close to my age and might even be older,
but I suppose with his military training he was so used to referring to
other men as `sir' that he did it without thinking.  From his southern
twang, the kid might be used to using `sir' at home, too.  "My plane to San
Diego got cancelled.  San Diego's weather is fine, but the incoming plane
didn't arrive and there's no aircraft to fly the route."

"Where are you from, soldier?" I asked.

"Texas, sir," he replied.  I nodded, letting the conversation lapse for a
few moments.  The marine's anticipation turned to worry that I wasn't going
to engage him further.  I let him dangle for a while, and he eventually
asked, "Where are you headed, sir?"

"Montana if the weather ever breaks," I replied.

"Montana?  Really?" the kid said.

"You sound surprised." I said.

"Well, uh, I dunno," the soldier said.  "You just don't look like what I
pictured guys from Montana looking like."

"What about him?" I asked, pointing to Max.  "Does he look like Montana?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," the kid replied.

"So a blond boy looks like Montana, but you think a 6'5" black man with
dreadlocks looks more like, what, Chicago?" I responded.

"Yeah, I guess," the kid admitted, blushing.  He was wondering if he had
insulted me and was nervous.  But not nervous enough to retreat from the
conversation.

I contemplated pressing the soldier boy, but if I was going to snare him, I
didn't have much time to spare.  I took the opportunity to adjust my junk
slightly, causing the marine's eyes to rivet on my crotch for long moment.
I replied, "Chicago's where we flew in from.  But Montana's home for the
next couple of years.  How long have you been in the marines?"

"Summer of 2011," he replied.  "I signed up as soon as they repealed `don't
ask don't tell.'"

Any mystery about the marine's sexual orientation vanished as he preempted
the issue.  The boy wanted his sexual orientation front and center for a
reason, and that reason was his fascination with me.  Or more accurately,
his fascination with my cock.  This wasn't turning into much of a
challenging hunt for the gray wolf.  But a wolf never passes on alluring
prey, even when it's easy.

Stian was a couple of spots from the front of the customer service line, so
I said to Max, "Wait for Stian.  I'm going to hit the john before he gets
back."

I rose to my feet and the marine stood up too, saying to Max, "Uh, I think
I'll do that too.  You mind watching my stuff for a minute?"  He was
reading a rock climbing magazine that he tossed on his chair

Max's eyes lit up when he saw the magazine and he exclaimed, "Wow!  Do you
climb?"

The soldier smiled and said, "Yeah, whenever I can.  San Diego isn't the
best spot for climbing, though."

"Do you mind if I look at your magazine?" Max asked.

"Nah," the marine replied.  "I've already been though it once, and I've got
a night and a flight ahead of me with nothing else to do."

We headed to the restroom, the marine trying some small talk that I
responded to politely but not encouragingly.  I stepped up to a urinal and
the soldier took the spot next to me, no doubt hoping to cop a look at my
junk.  I obliged him, stepping back enough so he could get a good look at
the goods.  Being 6'5", I had an easy angle to glance down at the soldier's
dick, and he looked reasonably well hung.  That was all the data I needed
to be comfortable Stian would be okay with the kid providing a third cock
to service his ass.

We left the restroom and outside I moved out of the steady stream of
traffic meandering up and down the concourse, pausing for a moment.
"What's your name soldier?" I asked.

"Riley, sir," the marine answered.

"Okay, Riley," I said.  "I'm going to make you an offer, but it's take or
leave, and I need an answer now."  Riley's face showed surprise and some
wariness.

"If you want a bed for tonight, I can arrange that," I said.  "Remember the
guy with the long blond hair that left his carry on with Max and me when we
sat down?"  Riley nodded.  "He's an old fuck buddy of mine and has a room
at the airport hotel.  He's invited Max and me to spend the night.  Stian
has a hungry ass, likes dick and never gets enough of it.  So it's gonna be
a wild night.

"Your job will be to supply another stiff cock to service my buddy's ass.
Take it from me, he's a hot bottom and has an incredible bubble butt.  Even
if you're a dedicated bottom, you're not going to mind that part of the
assignment."

Riley's surprised face showed interest.  Likely a top, from the way he
reacted.  "You gotta do more than just fuck a tight ass," I continued.
"You gotta fuck like a dog in heat."

"That's guaranteed," the soldier answered dryly.  "Two weeks at home in
rural Texas sharing a room with my little brother.  I couldn't even fucking
beat off!"

"How big is your cock?" I asked.

"Seven and a quarter," Riley replied smoothly.  It was information he had
at his fingertips, like whether he was right handed or left handed.  Most
guys wouldn't have been so exact and would have hesitated before answering.
Riley's quick response left me wondering.  He had been through the size
thing before, probably many times.

When I didn't react immediately and Riley realized he was up against
something bigger in my jeans, he added, "And it's fat."  The soldier boy
wanted what I was offering and was trying to sell me.  The fat part I had
detected in the john.  You never know if a guy is exaggerating his cock
size, so I wasn't going to bank on the seven inches, but Riley's girth
meant Stian wasn't going to be disappointed.  Whether Riley would still be
on board after I explained the second part of the gig remained to be seen.

"Getting your rocks off in a tight ass is only half of the job," I
continued.  "Beyond that, I'm going to ram my big black cock into your ass
and fuck you into tomorrow.  And you are going to be a good little soldier
boy by taking whatever I dish out.  Just like taking orders from your
marine commanders, you're gonna do each and every thing I tell you to do,
all without a single complaint or any whining.  Think of tonight as a party
for your cock and boot camp for your asshole.  So, are you in or out?"

Riley's excited eyes conveyed his answer long before he licked his lips,
looked me firmly in the eyes, and said, "Yes, sir.  I'm in.  You can count
on me."  The way he responded, I halfway expected him to salute me.  I
couldn't stop a faint grin from crossing my face.

Now to break the news to Stian.  What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, so
I decided I wasn't going into detail other than to present Riley as another
cock to service his holes.  No reason to reveal my plan to plunder the
soldier boy's ass.

Riley headed back to where Max was, and I waited for Stian as he finished
at customer service.  "Dude, small changes of plans," I said once Stian
stepped away from the counter.  Stian started to frown, but I clapped him
on the shoulder and, smiling, added, "I think you'll be very happy with the
development.  See that marine sitting across from Max?"

Stian picked Max and Riley out of the crowd.  The two guys were talking
about something.  Max was oddly animated, and knowing Max's typically
closed-mouth demeanor, it had to be rock climbing.  "Yeah," Stian nodded.

"He's available tonight," I said.  "Very available."

I could tell Stian was wondering how and when I had made arrangements with
the marine, but he commented, "Dude looks hot from here," he said.

"He looks hot from close up, too, take my word," I replied.  "I took the
liberty of recruiting him to supply another stiff cock for your holes
tonight.  Don't say I never did anything for you."

"I would never, ever say that," Stian said, chuckling and returning for a
long look at Riley.  "Dark hair, check.  Vaguely ethnic, check.  Nice
muscular body, hard to tell in the fatigues, but looks promising.  Final
data point.  Big cock?"

"If you mean bigger than mine, how stupid do you think I am?" I chuckled.

Stian laughed.  "Nah, I mean big enough to loosen me up so that I'll be
ready for you when you slam your black python into me," Stian said.

"No guarantees," I said, "but the limited evidence is positive."

Stian smiled.  "You would never say something like that without being damn
certain you're correct.  That's one of the things I like about you.  You
don't take chances without knowing the odds are stacked in your favor."
The Norwegian snowboarder looked amazing.  His open smile was one of the
reasons the cameras loved him and the snowboarding community embraced him.
"Thanks for thinking of me, dude," he added, "I'm going to send thanks to
Mother Nature for arranging this snowstorm."

As we headed out of the terminal and toward the hotel, I fell in beside
Riley, thinking maybe I should find out more about him.  "What was it like
growing up gay in west Texas?" I asked.

"The shits," he replied.  "I had my head up my ass as a kid.  Deep down I
knew I was gay but I couldn't admit it to myself, let alone my friends and
family.  So I overcompensated in the classic way.  I was the captain of the
football team – high school football is huge in Texas, even worse in
west Texas – and I loved showing off my masculinity on the football
field and being a jerk in school.  I was the best quarterback on the
football team, but my skin was a shade dark for my coaches and they liked
my violent streak, so they made me a linebacker.  Rumor in my family is
that my grandfather was half black and half Apache, but he died when he was
only 23, and I'm not even certain my grandmother really knew.  Whether I
got my color from him or from the mailman, I don't know, although my skin
is darker than almost everyone in my family.

"Anyway, the football coaches knew I was the only guy on the team that
could throw long.  As soon as the defense started clamping down on us, they
would put me in for trick plays to open things up.  The blond butthead that
was the starting quarterback couldn't throw more than 15 yards and he
needed a tail wind to do that.

"In my junior year of high school, I targeted the biggest slut in the
school and started dating her.  I did it because everybody knew she talked
about her conquests.  That was the sole appeal to me.  Guys wouldn't
suspect I was gay if it was well known that I was fucking a chick.  Plus,
she would babble about how big my cock was.  Sure enough, by halfway
through my junior year, every kid in school knew I had a fat fuck stick.

"I loved strutting around in the locker room.  You could count on me to be
the first guy out of his jock strap and the last guy to get dressed.  I put
the younger guys on the team through hell, slapping their asses and
snapping them with wet towels until they had welts on their butts.

"The tension I felt over my sexual orientation made me ready to snap, and
it happened when I met my girlfriend one night the spring of my senior
year.  She and a couple of guys she hung with were laughing about how they
lured a kid named Rusty into meeting them and then beat the crap out of
him, solely because he was queer.  Rusty was the known gay boy at my
school, and I respected him because he had the courage to do what I
couldn't.  The more I heard my girlfriend and the two goons laughing about
Rusty, the more it made me sick to my stomach.  Out of the blue, I told my
girlfriend we were breaking up.  She was pissed as hell.

"I immediately drove over to Rusty's house and when I knocked on his door,
he probably thought I was there to finish the job the other jerks had
started.  He had a black eye and it looked like he had been crying.  I told
him that I was sorry for what happened and wished I had been there to stop
it.  I had been responsible for a good deal of the harassment Rusty had
endured over the years, so I'm sure he thought I was scamming him.

"I had never looked at Rusty that closely, and he suddenly looked adorable
to me.  He had reddish hair and stark blue eyes and a tight little body,
and I wanted to take him in my arms and kiss him.  On the spur of the
moment, I asked him to go to the prom with me.  Having just broken up with
my girlfriend, I was suddenly free.

"Rusty laughed and said, `Since when do you want to date a gay boy, Riley?'

"Put on the spot, I came clean.  I told Rusty I had always been gay but
could never admit it, until now.  Rusty wasn't buying it and he said,
`Fine, Riley, if you're gay, then get on your knees and suck me off.  If
you give me a good blow job, maybe I'll go to the prom with you.'

"I was shocked and almost turned and ran, but I knew I would regret it if I
did.  So I got on my knees, pulled down Rusty's shorts and sucked my first
cock.  It grossed me out at first to think I had a sweaty piss pole in my
mouth, but it wasn't long before I was digging it.  And hornier than I had
ever been when I fucked my girlfriend.

"Rusty was stunned that I was actually doing it.  He thought he had called
my bluff, and couldn't believe the captain of the football team was on his
knees sucking dick.  If Rusty had had his cell, he probably would have
taken a picture of me with a cock stuffed in my mouth as proof.

"I wasn't good at sucking cock and my teeth brushed Rusty's dick a couple
of times, but I did okay, because long before I wanted to stop sucking
Rusty's dick, he shot.  He growled at me, `I'm cumming, I'm cumming.
Swallow it, cocksucker!'  I was stunned that Rusty was calling me, of all
people, a cocksucker.  I had never really thought about a guy shooting in
my mouth, and my first impulse was to spit Rusty's cum out.  But I wanted
to prove myself to the guy, so I clamped my mouth on his cock and sucked
for all I was worth.  Rusty literally flooded my mouth with spunk, to the
point I was thought it was going to shoot out of my nose.  But I managed to
swallow every ounce of his cum.

"Rusty was barefoot, and he shoved his foot into my crotch and flicked my
boner, which was tenting in my shorts like crazy.  He said, `I think you
liked that, Riley.  Maybe you're a fag after all.  But I wanna hear you say
it.'  I had passed the point of denying it.  `I'm a faggot cocksucker,' I
said, `and I just swallowed my first load of man cum.'

"By the time I left Rusty's house four hours later, I had sucked Rusty off
three more times and he had returned the favor, although he couldn't get
much of my cock down his throat.  I was higher than a kite.  I spent the
next two months constantly begging Rusty to let me suck him off.  He
relented more often than not, and I spent two months digging red pubic
hairs out of my mouth.  I guess I was trying like hell to make up for lost
time.

"Rusty and I went to the prom, but only after a big showdown at the school
board about two boys attending together.  Surprisingly, my football coach
came out in favor of it, and because football is king in west Texas, that
decided the issue.

"The last two months of high school was hell.  Most of my friends reacted
with horror and I endured the worst taunting and harassment you could
imagine.  My ex-girlfriend went out of her way to be a cunt.  I couldn't
wait to get out of Texas, and when I read that `don't ask, don't tell' was
being repealed, I signed up for the marines.  As embarrassed as my dad was
to find out that his son was queer, he was happy that I was following in
the family tradition and enlisting."

By the time Riley finished his story, Stian had checked into the hotel,
making sure his room had two beds, and we headed up to occupy the place.
We barely dropped our bags when Max, being the trooper that he was,
practically ripped Stian's pants off and nuzzled into the snowboarder's
ass, beginning to rim him.  Based on Stian's earlier outline, Max had a
clear picture of what his role was.  I was surprised to see Max take charge
in that way, but maybe he had figured out in Chicago that whoring required
knowing what your trick wants and how to deliver it.  Max had met Stian
what, an hour ago?  But he had the Norwegian stud down to a `T'.

"Oh, yeah," Stian moaned, "suck that ass.  Get me good and wet because I
need a hard cock."

Riley knew what was coming, too, but he stood staring at Stian's bare
bubble butt and Max's blond head buried in it.  Maybe Riley hadn't expected
sex to explode quite so quickly, or maybe he was enthralled by the sight of
Max rimming Stian's ass crack.

"Soldier," I said, snapping Riley out his trance.  He looked at me and I
pointed to the floor in front of where I stood.  Riley licked his lips,
dropped to his knees and began to fish my cock from my jeans.  I wondered
if Riley was reliving his first blow job with Rusty.

Riley eased my cock out, staring for a moment in disbelief at its size.  He
seemed to be memorizing the moment.  The marine didn't hesitate to start
licking my shaft and working the head of my cock into his mouth.  He
concentrated intently on taking inch after inch of my dick down his throat.

From Riley's story about coming out, I knew my big black cock was not the
first dick the soldier boy had sucked, and he clearly had developed skills.
He knew how to suck cock.  Maybe he regularly sucked off his fellow
marines, although from what I knew of barracks' life, that seemed unlikely.

Wherever his expertise was honed, I was the happy beneficiary of it.  I
moaned slightly as the soldier completely swallowed my cock, his nose
crushing my pubes.  More out of habit than anything else, I put my hands
around Riley's short, buzz cut hair and moved his head back and forth.  I
needn't have bothered, because the soldier boy was doing fine on his own
without my guidance.

Stian and Max shed their clothes and Stian busily slurped on Max's stiff
cock as Max continued to eat out Stian's ass.  Stian was very good with his
mouth, but he sucked cock only as a means to an end.  He mouthed a dick
long enough to get it rock hard and not a minute longer.  The Norwegian was
desperate to get fucked and reluctant to spend a moment more than necessary
without his ass being filled with cock.

Six months of practicing law had done no harm to Stian's body, and if
anything the power bottom's bubble butt looked better than ever.  He
crawled on the bed, doggy-style, and growled, "Fuck my ass.  Drill me!"
Max pointed his stiff cock at Stian's crack and powered in, causing Stian
to gasp, then groan, and then moan happily.  Max wasn't going to go easy on
the blond bottom, because he quickly was subjecting Stian to a fast and
furious fuck.

I knew Stian well enough to know he wanted a stiff cock in his mouth as
well as his butt.  He loved threesomes because he could get dicked from
both ends.  The only question was whether to fill his mouth with my cock or
with Riley's mystery meat.  Might as well find out what the marine was
packing, I thought.  "Get you cock down the slut's throat," I said, pulling
Riley off my dick.

The soldier looked disappointed as he released by spit-coated shaft, but he
got to his feet and began to strip.  His eyes lit up as he saw Max's lean
body slamming into Stian's bubble butt.  Stian's long blond hair jumped
with each thrust of Max's fuck tool.

As Riley pulled off his fatigues, it was my turn to stare.  The marine had
the hot, ripped body I had come to expect from rock climbers, with a pumped
chest, hard abs, muscular thighs and broad shoulders connected to big guns.
And those big hands and strong forearms.  His minimal body fat caused his
veins to pop out, covering his arms and even his flat stomach below his
belly button.

Between the six college rock climbers that lived in the old gas station
below my room and the hazing frat boy Trent, who climbed as well, I had
dicked seven rock climbers since the beginning of September.  I wondered
about the odds of fucking an eighth climber.  Long odds, I thought, but I
had grown to appreciate climbers' lean, rock hard bodies, and the gray wolf
was intent on nailing the soldier.

Beyond Riley's body, what caught my eye were his amazing tattoos.  Looking
at his tats, you could almost overlook Riley's stud body.  Tattoos were
common among marines, but Riley had taken it to a new level.

He sported a massive span of inked wings on his shoulders and upper back,
not dissimilar to the tats that covered the shoulders and back of Koichi,
the Asian power bottom I had fucked on the ski slopes in Montana.  On his
chest Riley had a stylized eagle, its wings spread wide and making the
soldier's shoulders look even broader than they were.  But the stunner
tattoos started on Riley's shoulders, looped around his armpits and down
his sides, and then split toward both his ass crack and the base of his
cock.  The mirror image tattoos essentially framed Riley's torso with
swirling and swooping tribal designs, all sharp curves and arched knife
points.  I couldn't tell if the abstract designs were identical or not, and
it probably would have taken hours of studying Riley's body to know for
sure.  I had a feeling the artist – and whoever tatted Riley was clearly
an artist – left subtle differences to be discovered by Riley's sex
partners.

The tattoos met in the small of Riley's back and plunged into his ass
crack.  How far they went was a mystery I planned to discover in due time.
On Riley's front, the tats circled the base of his cock and balls.  The
marine completely shaved his pubes, making the tattoos more noticeable.
From the swirling ink tats emerged a fat, thick cock, cut and glistening
with pre-cum.

Riley hadn't under-delivered on his promise of seven inches, although it
was possible Max was slightly bigger.  Well, not bigger, but longer.
Riley's dick was twice the thickness of Max's.  I decided that, at least
once tonight, Riley was going to take the Dillinger dick on his back,
because I wanted to see Riley's heavy soldier meat flop on his abs while I
reamed his ass.

Riley crawled on the bed in front of Stian, and the blond snowboarder
wasted no time in going down on Riley's prick.  If the Norwegian had
trouble with Riley's girth, he didn't show it.  Stian timed his dives on
Riley's dick to match Max's thrusts into Stian's bubble butt.

Max understood the game plan at this stage was to seed Stian's ass as
quickly as possible so another cock could fill the Norwegian's hole.  The
blond rock climber did his job, climaxing after drilling Stian for no more
than 10 or 15 minutes.  Max relinquished Stian's ass to me, and I marveled
that once again I was following Max into a sloppy, cum filled hole.  It was
becoming a pattern; first Ronny's black flight-attendant hole in Chicago,
then Johnny's southern boy pussy in the Wrigley Field locker room, and now
Stian's marvelous ass during a Denver snowstorm.  I was damn happy with the
pattern.

I swirled the head of my cock around the entrance to Stian's used fuck
chute, circling my target a couple of times.  Then I jammed the head of my
dick inside Stian, causing a muffled groan to escape from the power
bottom's cock-filled mouth.  Gripping his narrow hips, I reared back and
slammed into Stian's hole, splitting his crack with my thick black pole.
Stian forgot about Riley's fat fuck stick and yelled, "Oh, God, fuck my
ass!  Pound it!"  My cock deep-fucked Max's thick cum into Stian's butt.

Riley wasn't letting Stian off the hook, and he grabbed Stian's long blond
hair and rammed his rigid cock down Stian's stretched throat.  Neither
Riley nor my skin was particularly dark, but juxtaposed against Stian's
Scandinavian paleness, we gave some semblance of an Oreo split roast.
Riley bent forward and pulled me into a kiss, begging my tongue to rape his
mouth.

Rather than drawing out my fuck, I figured the sooner I climaxed the sooner
I'd be in round two, so I powered forward, beginning to ram the blond
boarder with fast, punishing thrusts.  He bucked like he always had, his
body begging to be used, his hole demanding my jism.  My nut began to build
and I brought it along slowly, ready to seed Stian but wanting to enjoy my
first foray into his sweet ass in seven months.  I edged closer and closer,
holding off as long as I could, and then delivered a power shot of cum deep
into Stian's Nordic hole.

Stian probably expected me to pause for a few minutes and then ride him
again.  That was my modus operandi and I had fucked Stian often enough
during two years of college that it had become routine for both of us.  As
much as I wanted to do exactly that, I figured I owed it to Stian to let
him sample Riley's fat soldier cock.  If Riley was right about having had
not sex for weeks, his cum shot might juice Stian's hole enough to last the
entire night.  I wanted my next journey into Stian's ass to be greeted by a
sloppy, cummy mess.

I pulled out and Riley, looking crazed, spun Stian around and rammed his
cock into Stian's cum drenched fuck chute.  "Oh, yeah," Stian moaned, "Ride
that ass.  Fuck it!  Fuck my brains out."

Max, ever attentive, was on my cock as soon as I pulled out of Stian's ass,
swallowing my dick and coaxing the last drop of cum from my black rod.  Max
continued to work on me long after he had licked every drop of his and my
commingled cum from my shaft.

Riley was demonstrably horny, because his maiden tour into Stian's ass was
short lived.  The marine grabbed Stian's narrow hips and slam fucked him
for five, maybe seven minutes, and with an anguished cry he blasted his
load inside Stian's fuck tunnel.

Riley collapsed on Stian, only pulling out after several minutes passed.
Once the marine had extricated his thick pole from Stian's hole, Stian
rolled over on his back.  His cock was rock hard and he said with a lusty
smile, "Not bad for an appetizer, boys.  Not bad at all.  Makes me look
forward to the main course."  He gave his cock a couple of perfunctory
strokes but made no effort to continue.

Max glanced at me with a questioning look and started toward Stian's cock,
intending to bring the boarder off, but I caught his arm and shook my head.
Stian had a bizarre cock.  He could hold out for hours, his cock rock hard
and dripping pre-cum, but once he climaxed the first time, he couldn't
control his dick, and it would shoot constantly.  Last spring, Stian and I
took a beach trip to Provincetown during a gap between the end of classes
and graduation, and the first night, I fucked him half a dozen times before
he let himself cum, and then watched him catch up to me by cumming
repeatedly as I balled him the seventh time.  Once the floodgates opened,
the Norwegian dreamboat barely needed to touch himself to bring himself
off.  His prick was a like a faucet that couldn't be shut off.

Stian announced he was starved and ordered room service.  In deference to
whoever would deliver the order, we pulled our clothes back on, at least
mostly – Stian and I were still shirtless when the young waiter showed
up with the food.  From the waiter's wide-eyed stare, I think he would have
preferred that we were still naked, and I got the impression that he would
have eagerly taken us up on an offer to make it a five-some.  The smell of
fresh cum that hung in the room might have tipped him off to what had –
and would – happen.  If he had been older than 18 or 19, I might have
considered making the offer.  But there was no reason to tinker with
success, and the odds were that he wouldn't have the big prick Stian
craved.

We downed dinner and Max carted the trays into the hallway to ensure that
room service wouldn't interrupt us.  Stian put me in the middle on one of
the beds between Riley and Max and he went down on us, slurping from cock
to cock as we kissed each other.  Max's dick was the first one to get rock
hard, and Stian, never one to delay, planted his ass on Max's rod.  The
Norwegian had a look of bliss on his face as he slowly impaled his ass on
Max's rod.  Stian's cock was hard and dripping pre-cum as he began to move
up and down, riding Max with enthusiasm.  The boarder's cock bounced
against Max's amazing, hard abs.

Riley took over Stian's job of sucking my cock and the soldier kept making
comments about the size of my cock and how he loved deep throating it.  I
was still in awe over his tats.  In addition to the big, showy tats, Riley
had a series of smaller ones that were as artful and well done as his big
tattoos.  I was curious about the background of Riley's inkwork.

Stian decided he wanted to get fucked rather than ride Max's cock, so he
got on all fours again, with Max behind him.  Max dicked the boarder's ass
and Stian leaned forward and began to suck Riley's semi-hard chubby as the
soldier continued to mouth me.

I pulled Riley off my cock, contemplating when my opportunity to butt fuck
the marine's hard ass would present itself.  The soldier, apparently still
wanting a cock in his mouth, took the other available dick, rotating so
that he and Stian were 69ing as Max continued to pound Stian's ass.

My opportunity to nail the soldier boy was staring me in the face.  I lubed
up my cock and hoisted Riley's muscular legs into the air, exposing his
pink pucker and answering the question of how far the tribal tattoos ran
down the marine's ass.  All the way.  Riley's hole was completely
surrounded by ink swirls and in between Riley's ass and balls, the tats met
up with the ones surrounding Riley's cock.

My cock circled the entrance to Riley's hole and I began to press inside
him.  As I forced past his sphincter, Riley gave a guttural groan and I
could tell, based on how tight his ass was, that he hadn't been fucked very
often.  I had to pull out and start over three or four times before I was
able to finally sink my shaft all the way inside the Texas soldier.  For
Riley, it was probably a good thing that Stian was busily swallowing his
fat pole, keeping him horny throughout my assault on the tatted marine's
ass.

I wasn't able to get into any kind of a good fucking motion with Stian's
surfer-blond head servicing Riley's cock, but Stian came up for air and I
pulled him into a deep kiss.  I wrapped my arms around Riley's ankles and
Stian's head, ramming my tongue into Stian's hungry mouth and my cock into
Riley's helpless hole.

With Max's cock flying in and out of Stian's hole, Riley's throat wrapped
around the Norwegian's cock, and my tongue raping his mouth, Stian was
getting well serviced.  I wondered if the Norwegian fuck stud was going to
be able to hold off cumming.  I knew from experience that Riley was a
helluva good cocksucker, and Max seemed to be keeping Stian's ass happy as
he repeatedly plunged his seven inches into the boarder.  Only time would
tell, but I suspected Stian wasn't even close to blowing.

Riley's tight ass was worth the effort, and I slammed my cock into the
soldier boy and kept his legs hoisted high so his ass was positioned
perfectly for my fuck pole.  I had the feeling that Stian and I could have
gone on indefinitely the way we were.  But Max hadn't developed the control
Stian and I had, and before long the kid's breathing and his glassy eyes
betrayed his losing battle to keep from cumming.  All at once he gasped,
powered his cock inside Stian one last time and panted as he blew his
second load in the blond Norwegian.

Stian waited until Max's cock began to soften, then whispered to me,
"You're gonna double fuck me, stud.  I want to the two thickest cocks in
America in my hole at the same time.  After that, soldier boy's ass is
yours, and you can ride him until the fucker can't walk.  But first your
job is to split my ass open."  I wasn't going to refuse the offer.

The boarder promptly went after Riley's fat prick.  Stian turned around,
facing Riley, and quickly slid Riley's cock inside his hole.  Stian gave an
appreciative moan and began to slowly ride the soldier.  It was not long
before Stian bent forward, kissing the Texan and pulling off Riley's cock
just enough to let me know he was ready.

I wondered about the odds of two double fucks in less than a week.  With my
big black cock, I wasn't the obvious choice to double fuck anyone, but then
Johnny and Stian were far from ordinary bottoms.  My cock was still buried
in Riley's hole, although with Stian riding the soldier, I was sorely
limited in how much I could pound the marine's ass.  Timing my move
carefully, I pulled out of Riley, dropped his legs, and just as Stian
lowered his ass on Riley's cock, I rammed forward, not certain my cock
would even get inside Stian's hole, much less penetrate him all the way.

I powered inside Stian so fast that his ass didn't have time to react and
my dick was buried in him before his muscles instinctively tried to expel
me.  The Norwegian gasped and gave a strangled moan, saying, "Oh my God!
Don't stop!  Fuck me, drill me, pound me!"  I leaned forward on Stian's
back, seeing a shocked look on Riley's face.  In that position, I was able
to get into something of a fucking motion, driving my python into the
snowboarder as Riley's fat cock filled his hole.

It wasn't destined to be a long double fuck.  Riley had been close merely
from getting his ass plundered by my cock and having Stian's dick crammed
down his throat.  Riley had almost climaxed when Stian sucked soldier's
cock into his ass, and when I consummated the double-fuck, the Texas boy
couldn't hold out.  Within a couple of minutes, I felt Stian's ass get much
wetter and sloppier than it had been, which was saying something.  Riley
let out a gurgling moan as he blasted his load inside the boarder.

I continued to pound Stian's ass as the blond hunk begged me to fuck his
lights out.  Riley's cock softened and slipped from Stian's hole, but the
soldier was trapped beneath us as I worked Stian's familiar ass.  The
arrangement was good for me, because Stian's body was on top of Riley and
thus a foot off the bed, which meant Stian's ass was in the perfect
position for me to pillage it.  And by now, his hole was juiced with five
loads, including the mammoth one that the sex-starved Riley had generated
the first time.  I had forgotten how good Stian's hole was, and it was rare
to get an opportunity to fuck it when it was used and sloppy.

I railed on Stian's ass for a long time, feeling myself get close and
slowing down, then speeding up again.  I let my nut build, held it for a
long time, and finally released it into the boarder bottom's hole.  "Oh,
God, yeah," Stian moaned.  "Seed me.  Breed my ass!"

My balls barely stopped pumping cum when I was ready to go again.  My
ability to fuck back-to-back without getting soft was on full display.  I
contemplated drilling Stian again, but Max had been out of the action for a
spell, and after getting opened by the double fuck, Stian might want
something smaller than my big bull cock.  Plus, as good as Stian's juiced
hole had been, I wanted to attend to a major piece of unfinished business.

I pulled out of Stian and he rolled off Riley, leaving the tatted soldier
underneath me.  I never hesitated, hoisting Riley's legs onto my shoulders
and using four fingers to clamp open his ass.  I wasn't going to endure
another struggle to sink my dick into the marine.  With Riley's pussy
stretched wide, I rammed my still-rigid dick into him.

The Texas boy had a stunned look on his face and he let out an anguished
gasp.  His eyes betrayed fear and surprise, and, at the same time, deep
desire.  Soldier boy wanted to get bred by a big black cock, and he was
about to get his wish.

I was vaguely aware that Stian and Max were going at it again.  Stian was
on his back, his long legs wrapped around Max's hips, and Max was
delivering yet another fuck to the Norwegian's hole.  Stian's long blond
hair was arrayed on a pillow and he and Max were sucking face as Max's ass
cheeks flexed every time he thrust into Stian.  My blond boi whore had a
mighty fine bubble butt, and while it was unlikely I would use it tonight,
as soon as we got back to Montana, I was planning to spend a night with my
cock buried inside the jock rock climber.

But for the time being, I was happy to have my black cobra rutting inside
an incredibly hot and hunky marine ass.  Riley's hole was like a vice, and
I actually had to pull out and recoat my cock with lube.  However, that
gave me the opportunity to enter him the way he was made to be entered.  I
rocked his body upward, putting his knees on either side of his head and
pointing his pink, puckered hole, wet with lube, toward the ceiling.  I
guided the head of my cock into Riley's hole, and then, with a brutal
thrust, impaled him.  The soldier's eyes fluttered, but I could tell I had
tamed him.  Gone was the fear and surprise in his eyes I had seen before.
All that remained was desire and lust.  The gray wolf had yet another kill.

Almost in unison, Stian and Riley moaned, "Fuck my ass!"  After cumming in
Stian's hole, Riley's cock had revived and was rock hard, and a thin trail
of pre-cum and leftover cum was collecting on the soldier's hard abs.  Each
time I rammed into Riley's pussy, his chest moved just enough to make his
eagle tat flutter.  It wasn't as spectacular as the way the big tattoo on
Koichi's back had jumped when I fucked the Japanese bottom boy, but it was
cool in its own way.

I was getting close to cumming and ramped up my pace, furiously fucking the
hunky marine who had surrendered to my black fuck pole.  "Oh, God, yeah,"
Riley moaned.  "Seed me, mark me as your fuck toy!"  I rammed the soldier
with four or five quick thrusts and felt my balls release, my cum draining
into Riley's tight hole.

Max's balls released not long after mine, seeding Stian yet again.  I had
been balling for a good hour without a break, and I could sense that Max
and Riley were flagging, but I knew Stian was just getting started.  The
Norwegian slut pig still hadn't cum.

I suggested we take a break and Stian ordered a bottle of whiskey from room
service.  Max had the good sense to slip into his clothes and meet the
waiter at the door, avoiding the problem of the waiter finding four naked
men in a room reeking of cum.  I wondered if the same kid that had
delivered our meals would bring the whiskey and ice.

Along with the whiskey, room service sent a couple of bowls of nuts that we
devoured.  Fucking can make you damn hungry.

Stian, sipping whiskey, asked Riley, "So, dude, is there a lot of fucking
in the barracks?  Bunch of young, horny studs living together sounds like a
nice recipe to me."  Knowing Stian, the blond bottom was wondering what it
would be like to be drilled by a line a marines every night.

"Not that much," Riley admitted.  "Marines are too hung up."

"What do you do for sex?" Stian asked.

"Porn," Riley said.

"Dude, doesn't watching porn get old?" Stian asked.

"Oh, I don't watch that much porn," Riley replied matter-of-factly.  "I
meant performing.  Nothing better than having a guaranteed fuck with a hot
guy and getting paid to do it."

We stared at the tatted marine and Riley felt the need to explain.  "There
are a bunch of porn studios in San Diego, and it isn't that far to LA,
either.  Even Vegas is doable for a long weekend.

"When I enlisted in the marines I made no secret of being gay," Riley
continued.  "I was done being the closet.  Being out attracted the interest
of my Sergeant, who had done a ton of gay porn and was basically a
recruiter for a porn studio in San Diego that does military guys.  Less
than a month after I got settled, Sarg signed me and a buddy up.  With zero
privacy in the barracks, sex was hard to come by, and I figured that
knowing I was going to get my rocks off once a week with a hot guy was too
good of a deal to pass up.

"I don't think the buddy I signed up thought he was going to bottom, but
when the studio saw my cock, I was forever cast as a top, and that left my
buddy as the bottom.  He got paid extra for it.  My buddy and I were
hornier than hell and we filmed three scenes in one afternoon, but I don't
think my buddy enjoyed bottoming, at least when my fat cock was drilling
his ass.  I sure as hell enjoyed it.

"I filmed a good 15 or 20 times with the studio, but once you've had almost
all the other porn stars, it's time to move on.  I worked with a twink
studio and some college and muscle studios after that.  The twink studio
did a release with me in every scene.  The plot was me coming home on
military leave and fucking five dudes that were supposed to be my little
brother and his twinky friends.  It was called `Welcumming the Troops Home'
and was a big seller.  A fat cock looks even bigger when it's going into a
skinny twink's ass."

Stian pumped Riley for more details about being a porn star.  Other than
guaranteed sex, the reality of porn seemed saddled with plenty of
headaches.

Before the bottle of whiskey had disappeared, Stian pulled Riley on top of
him and soon Max and I were watching the tatted, caramel-skinned soldier
fucking the pale blond boarder.  Max would have loved for me to fuck him,
and he snuggled up to me in an effort to see if it might happen, but I was
already feeling guilty that I had pumped a load of cum into Riley's ass
rather than saving it for Stian.

After Riley nutted, Max and I did Stian together, dishing out the
Norwegian's second double fuck of the night.  After holding off all night,
Stian either decided to let loose or lost control.  As soon as I jammed my
rigid fuck pole into his ass, feeling Max's stiff cock next to mine,
Stian's cock exploded like a Champagne bottle.  In no time, Max's tight abs
were coated with thick Scandinavian spunk.

With the dam having burst, Stian climaxed every five or ten minutes.  He
must have blown four or five loads by the time Max came.  I took over and
applied the final fuck to Stian's hole, drilling the snowboarder hard
enough to give him something to remember until our next rendezvous.  I'm
pretty sure the final cum explosion from Stian's cock was hands free, as he
moaned, "Harder, harder, harder, fuck my ass!"  With a last thrust, I
seeded the Norwegian's ass as he clenched his hole around my fuck pole.
Cum and sweat covered and exhausted, we fell into a heap.  Riley was
already asleep on the other bed.

I woke a couple of hours later and slipped over to Riley's bed.  As much as
I liked being in bed with Max and Stian separately, sharing a bed with both
of them, even a king sized bed, was not comfortable.  My arrival in Riley's
bed did not go unnoticed by the tatted marine.  He backed up against me,
rubbing his bubble butt against my cock, and whispered, "Fuck my ass.  It's
sore as hell, but I never been bred as deep as you fucked me.  I want your
cock one more time."  I had been contemplating claiming his ass again
anyway, so I fisted my cock into a hard on and worked my dick into the
hunky marine's tight hole.  "Oh, God, fuck yeah," Riley moaned.  "Drill me,
drill me."

I settled into a long fuck, both of us on our sides.  After a while, I
draped a leg over Riley's thighs to get better leverage, and I was able to
force my black rod farther inside his ass.  That caused a strangled moan
from the soldier, and he said, "Oh, God, yes, fuck my ass!"

Riley was still moving too much when I thrust into his defenseless hole, so
I reached around with my hand and gripped his thick cock, holding him still
as I ground my dick into his fuck chute.  Riley's rod was so wet that I
wondered if he had already cum.  Maybe he was just gushing pre-cum as I
railed on his hole.

I felt my balls churning and quickened my pace, eliciting another happy
moan from the soldier boy whose ass I was spoiling, ensuring it would never
again be as tight as it had been before tonight.  We were loud enough that
I thought Stian and Max would wake up, but if they were awake, they were
keeping still.  That wouldn't be like Stian, but it might well be the case
with Max.

My balls discharged as I rammed my cock inside Riley one last time.  The
Texas marine apparently wasn't satisfied with the work I had been doing on
his cock.  His hand closed over mine and he pumped his shaft rapidly,
resulting in a quick climax.  "Oh, fuck," Riley groaned as he panted and
shot spunk on the sheets.  "Leave your cock inside me.  God, I've never
been filled by anything like it."

We fell asleep and the next thing I remember Riley was bending down to kiss
me.  "My cell number is on a slip of paper with your phone," he said.  "My
ass is gonna be open for your cock whenever you want.  And if you wanna do
porn work, I can absolutely guarantee you'd be a star.  I've only topped in
porn, but with you I'd bottom in a second.  Think about it."  The soldier
had already showered and dressed and was headed out because his rescheduled
flight to San Diego was leaving early.  "Tell Stian thanks for me.  Fucking
incredible night!"

It was still dark, but I needed to check on the Montana flight.  The
airline website showed it was on time, although still a few hours off.
With my usual early rise from bed, I was wide awake by then, and I slipped
into the shower.

I wasn't in the shower for long before Stian joined me, insisting that I
pound his hot Norwegian ass one more time.  "I know you were taking it easy
on me last night, but I won't break," he said with his trademark grin.
"Now it's just the two of us, and you can deep seed me, really ram my ass."
I couldn't help but smile as Stian went down on me, his long blond hair
plastered to his head and dripping with water.  As intently focused on
getting his ass pounded as the he was, I knew in Aspen he would be just as
intently focused on snowboarding and I was certain he brought the same
intensity to practicing law and whatever else he did.  Stian had only one
speed.  Full on.

It wasn't the best fuck I had had recently, because standing in the bathtub
shower created the ever-present risk of our feet slipping out from under
us, but I juiced Stian's hole one last time.  After we got out of the
shower, Stian gave a hungry stare at Max, but I told the rock jock that we
needed to head for the terminal to make sure we got on our plane.

Max was characteristically quiet on the flight out of Denver.  "You okay?"
I asked as we began our descent toward the landing in a snowy Montana.  Max
gave me a smile and his ice blue eyes sparkled.  "Yeah," he answered, "you
and your friends know how to turn a miserable night in an airplane terminal
into a wild, hot party."

I was never sure how to read the taciturn blond, but for some reason it
gave me a good feeling that Max was onboard with what had gone down.  I
nodded, and Max continued, saying, "I'm ready to travel with you wherever
you want."  I was slightly annoyed by his comment, but I also realized that
travelling with Max had been great and I'd do it again in a moment.


Part Two

January wasn't my favorite time of the year in western Montana.  The sun
was low in the sky, the weather uninviting, and with the holidays over, I
had to return to the monumental task of pushing my thesis forward.  My
bicycle hadn't been outdoors since October, and, lonesome and gathering
dust, it was now hanging from the big wooden beams that graced the ceiling
of my room.  The one saving grace of January in Montana was the opportunity
for an occasional day of snowboarding.  Getting some fresh air and slicing
down snowy mountainsides partially made up for days of being cooped up.

The sky was pitch black at 6:00 a.m. when I arrived at the gym to work out
every morning, pitch black when I left the gym to head to my office, and
pitch black at the end of the day when I wandered back to the repurposed
gas station that housed the college rock climbers below me.  Without long
days of passive solar gain, the gas station wasn't as stiflingly hot as it
had been during the fall, but even that was a negative.  Half the time, the
rock jocks wore T-shirts when they scaled the indoor climbing wall they had
installed.  Not that their ripped arms and legs weren't pleasant enough to
gaze at, but it wasn't the same without being able to see their straining
back muscles, pumped chests and carved abs.

Part of my post-holiday letdown, I confess, was that I had accomplished my
goal of fucking all six of the lean, ripped climbers.  I admit to being
goal-oriented, and I had expected the project to take all year, with no
assurance of accomplishing it.  But in only four months, the tight asses of
the six college boys had each hosted my big black cock: Jesse, the
auburn-haired dance-boy with the amazing hard ass; Sancho, the shaggy blond
surfer-boy look-alike with the liquid muscles; Travis, the stoned partier
with the perfect body; Alex, the impish prankster with the lean, tatted
torso; Damian, the long-haired skateboarder with the tight, fuckable ass;
and Max, my ripped, blond rent boy with the amazing abs.

Along the way, my cock had detoured into the asses of four older men,
always my sweet spot: Jake Westbrooke, the classic Montana Marlboro man;
Akili Brooks, the pro football legend and so-to-be head football coach;
Kent Dornnen, the reigning sexiest professor on campus; and Toshi, my tall,
ageless, Japanese hookup from before Christmas.  Aside from the six rock
jocks, a few other college studs had fallen my way as well: the skinny
twink Kyle; his muscular boyfriend Donny and furry model friend Jack; frat
boy Trent, who liked hazing pledges but liked getting his ass spanked and
used more; straight-boy Shane, my New York companion; kinky, Scottish
exchange student Jim; and Asian power-bottom college boy, Koichi.  Moving
to Westcliffe four months ago, I worried about keeping my cock happy.
Looking back, I wondered when I had time to do anything but fuck.  Not that
I was complaining.

After our return from Chicago, Max had nowhere to go before classes
started, so he stayed at Westcliffe, doing an incredible job of being
around when I wanted him and disappearing when I didn't want to see him.
With only Max and Kent in town to service my big black cock, and Kent
restricted to once-a-month duty, Max had cheerfully borne the brunt of
milking my balls.  In fact, he had performed more than cheerfully.  The
ripped blond fuck stud gave every indication of being addicted to my cock.

Despite having been completely cut off by his parents, Max was doing well
on his own.  I pulled some strings to get him a scholarship for spring
semester, even though he no longer needed the money after our trip to
Chicago and his steady flow of rent-boy cash.  Max had his regular clients,
and because visitors didn't have many entertainment options in the small
college town surrounding Westcliffe, he got a small stream of bookings on
the web app.  A few men even detoured through Montana to spend a night with
him.  He had enough travel requests through the app that he could have
spent his weekends flying around the country and fucking for money, but Max
stuck to running, rock climbing and studying.  Left to his own devices, he
wasn't a great rent boy.  But he was a damn good boi whore when I was
calling the shots.

The chastity cage thing never worked for Max.  The problem was that his
cock was too much in demand from clients, so every three or four days, a
week max, I had to free his junk so he could perform.  I finally shelved
the cage, but I didn't throw it away.  Perhaps I would dust it off down the
road and put Max to the test I had thought about.  I got the impression Max
would just as soon have been locked in the damn thing, as long as I had the
keys.

With the en masse return of Westcliffe's students at the end of their
extended holiday break, life on campus returned to normal.  I was back
teaching seminars with a new flock of often-bored, occasionally-animated
college students.  While my conquest of the college rock climbers was in
the rear view mirror, I found myself intrigued by a range of men, some of
whom had hosted my big black cock before and some I had yet to hunt down.

Trent, the hazing frat boy, was in one of my spring seminars, and the
college stud was starting off on model behavior.  I had little doubt he
would find an excuse to visit my office to discuss the seminar, probably
when he knew the rest of the building would be deserted.  That would raise
a delicate problem.  I was technically his teacher and while I had spent a
semester balling a parade of students, none had been in my seminars.  In my
mind doing Trent would cross the line.  I might have to put him off until
the end of the semester.

Jack, the furry model who was the fourth with Kyle and Donny at the
mountain hut, turned out to be a grad student.  That confirmed what I
thought the first time I sampled his ass, that he looked older than most of
the kids on campus.  He and I were assigned to help a rookie professor
teaching an oversized freshman class, and on the first day of class, Jack
greeted me like we were lifelong friends.  It was only a matter of time
until Jack would suggest conferring with me privately about the class and I
would appropriate his hairy hole.

Jesse was back to doing splits while my cock was impaled in his awesome
dancer-ass, and Travis had returned to campus with enough dope to get the
entire University high.  The question wasn't if Travis would get stoned and
desperate to get a stiff cock in his ass, but when.  When Travis hit that
stage, in his mind, it was bigger, the better.  Which was where I came in.
Hovering in the background was my idea that Max and I might double fuck
both Jesse and Travis, or at least tag team them so that their boi holes
would be sloppy and juiced for my cock.

Gray wolves hunt more-or-less continuously.  For larger prey, wolves'
hunting behavior often relies on the chase.  Wolves are disinclined to
attack an animal that stands its ground.  Instead, wolves cause the prey to
run, and once the chase is on, the wolf pack will bring down larger prey by
chasing them to exhaustion.

That pattern didn't completely fit me.  Despite four of the rock jocks
being straight, I generally wasn't interested in chasing straight men.  Too
much trouble; the end product was seldom worth it and the aftermath was
occasionally messy and melodramatic.  Not that I had a hard and fast rule
about straight men, and over the years I had butt fucked a good score of
men that preferred a woman's cunt.  But for the time being my new prey gave
indications they might not be totally straight.  Like a wolf, I was a
patient and persistent hunter.

My landlord, Dontrell, had a son that was a year or two older than me, and
I enjoyed his company – we were among the token 20-something black men
in town.  We often went out for a beer after our pickup basketball games.
He shared the perspective of many young blacks that taking it up the ass
wasn't masculine, but I sensed he was curious.  Curious enough that I put
my odds of nailing him well above 50-50.

Two of Akili Brooks' cornerbacks registered on my gaydar as well.  One kid,
a black stud from St. Louis, I had spotted as far back as the day of the
Bikinis and Goggles race at the end of the summer.  I ran into him in the
gym or on campus periodically during the fall.  Being two of the few black
men on campus, we shared a natural bond.  Dontrell's son might require a
long, patient pursuit, but I was certain I could go for a quick kill of the
football hunk whenever I wanted.

The other cornerback was a white boy from California.  He might need more
coaxing, but the kid watched his black teammates with what I recognized as
barely contained lust, and I knew he wanted dick, preferably black, even if
the boy hadn't admitted that to himself yet.  My biggest risk with the two
cornerbacks was that they would hook up together before I could nail them
separately.

The target I was most intrigued by, however, was a man in his 30s, right
out of Brokeback Mountain.  Slade lived alone on a ranch north of town, on
the opposite side of the valley from Jake Westbrooke's big spread.  The
tall cowboy had dirty blond hair, and his perpetually sun-tanned face had a
rugged look.  He was at home in worn jeans and scuffed cowboy boots.  If
Jake Westbrooke resembled Jake Gyllenhaal, Slade could pass for Heath
Ledger, completing the Brokeback Mountain analogy.

The people in town referred to Slade as a confirmed bachelor.  To them, the
old-fashioned term was reserved for masculine men that couldn't possibly be
gay and merely hadn't found the right woman yet.  The term was a
compliment.  To me, it alerted my gaydar.

Slade moonlighted as a part time security officer for the university,
working weekends when the university's regular security officers were off.
Five days on his ranch and two at the university essentially meant Slade
was all work and no play.  I resolved to change that.  I suspected Slade
had likely never had a big black cock, maybe not any cock, but in my mind,
by the end of the semester he would.  With the rock climbers in the rear
view mirror, I enjoyed setting another goal.

The January doldrums were broken at the end of the month when Westcliffe
hosted a lacrosse tournament.  It was an annual event, with teams from
throughout the northwest and mountain states.  The school had to bulldoze
snow off the outdoor fields, but I gathered that wasn't an unusual problem
for a lacrosse tournament in Montana in January.  The tournament was part
of the University's annual winter carnival, mostly an excuse for the
college kids to drink, party, get stoned and fuck.  Exactly what they would
have been doing on any winter weekend, but the winter carnival made it more
festive, more no-holds-barred.  Spring semester exams were too far in the
future to concern the partying college students.

I agreed to help staff the tournament, and was responsible for working the
sidelines, keeping drunk students off the field and generally watching for
problems.  The silver lining was getting to see the lacrosse boys close up.
Who can complain about seeing an array of muscular men in shorts and
T-shirts during the dead of winter?

Slade was working the final matches on Saturday, and I had plenty of time
to chat with him and get to know him.  And plenty of time to subtly scope
him out, planning my long range assault on his muscular ass.  At first, he
was somewhat reserved and stand-offish, but he slowly warmed up and by the
end of the day he was smiling, relaxed and friendly.  It would take a
while, but I would eventually bring the cowboy to hunger for the sensations
of my cock breeding his hole.

Max got a curious inquiry on the web app shortly before the tournament.
Apparently the gay men on the various lacrosse teams knew one another, and
when they played out-of-town tournaments, they went together to hire trade
to entertain the group after the final match.  They were thrilled to find a
guy as hot as Max at Westcliffe, forestalling the need to import a rent
boy.  The annual tournament stop at Westcliffe had been a rent boy desert
until Max's appearance, not surprising given the town's size.  The other
tournament hosts were places like Denver, Seattle, and San Francisco, which
had ample supplies of available hustlers.  Even Salt Lake City had plenty
of boi whore options.

I was surprised when the inquiry came in, asking, among other things, how
many guys Max would be willing to service.  Not the usual question that
surfaced on the web app, but I replied, saying Max was open to however many
they wanted.  I assumed the question came from a couple or perhaps a
threesome.  When the response referenced ten lacrosse players, I read it
several times, thinking it must be a hoax.  But after the payment showed up
– ten times Max's normal rate – I realized it was legit.

The final lacrosse game of the tournament, the championship, finished at
6:00 p.m. on Saturday and Max was supposed to appear at 7:00 at a private
house the guys had rented in the foothills north of town.  The house was in
the same expensive, gated community as Akili Brooks' mountain mansion, and
I guessed the gay lacrosse boys were all staying at the house, because the
place had seven bedrooms, including a bunk room.  Max was hired until
midnight, so the math meant that Max might be doing a guy every thirty
minutes for five hours.  That assumed nobody went for seconds, an unlikely
assumption given that the lacrosse players were all college-aged or in
their 20s, early 30s at most.

Max was his usual businesslike, taciturn self before the appointment,
downloading directions to the house and dropping his old, too-small jock
strap into his backpack before slithering into the same outfit I dressed
him in for the flight back from Chicago – the tight, ripped jeans that
highlighted his junk and the loose muscle shirt with the deep-dropped
armholes that exposed his awesome abs and arms.  He tossed two boxes of
condoms into the backpack, enough lube to coat a hundred cocks, and a
handful of sex toys, then cheerily smiled and was on his way.  I told Max
to contact me if a problem arose, and instructed him to text me when he was
finished.  He knew I wanted the details.

Shortly before midnight, Max's first text arrived.  `Xtra hour.  Paid via
web.'  Apparently the blond rock jock was popular with the lacrosse crowd.
An hour later, he texted, `Leaving.  6 top, 2 bttm, 2 vers.'  Shortly
after, a second text arrived, reading, `ass n mouth used 6 str8 hrs.'

I thought about Max's ass dripping with loads of cum, at least six but
almost certainly more because of the versatile guys and the likelihood some
of the men had gone for seconds.  That was all it took to get me hard.  I
wasn't going to let Max off the hook after the lacrosse boys partied with
his ass.  I started to text back, writing, `Plug ur hole.  Ur not dun.'
But before I sent the message, Max texted, `Sloppy.  Will u fuck me?
Sir??'  Smiling, I went ahead and sent my message anyway.  Max had
developed a strange ability to read my mind.  Although, in this case,
knowing my fondness for wet, used boi holes, it wasn't a difficult
challenge.

Max had a routine.  When he entered my room above the gas station, he would
immediately strip, leaving his clothes on a hook next to the door.  After
the lacrosse orgy, Max had barely dropped his clothes when I shoved him to
his knees and pushed him against a wall, feeding him my cock.  Intrigued by
the prospect of his cum drenched ass, I got hard quickly, and once Max's
mouth had done its duty, I cuffed his wrists and ankles and tied him
spread-eagled on my bed.  I stuffed two thick pillows under his stomach to
keep his bubble butt hoisted in the air.

As I had directed, Max had buried a butt plug in his awesome bubble butt.
I pulled it out and immediately replaced it with my hard fuck pole,
eliciting a happy moan from the ripped blond climber.  His hole had to be
sore from being used all night, but the ripped climber had asked for it,
and I love sloppy, used boi cunt and wasn't going to let the opportunity
pass by.

Max's hole was so full of cum that it felt like my cock was in a butter
churn.  Sounded like it too.  Big splooshing sounds echoed as my cock
powered into Max's sloshy ass.  I lowered my chest on Max's bare back, my
long dreadlocks covering Max's short, spiked blond hair.  "How many loads
did you take in your whore hole, slut?" I asked.

"Thirteen," Max moaned.  The lacrosse boys got the moneys' worth, I
thought.  Max whimpered and gasped, "I kept thinking how much you would
like my hole if it was flooded with cum and how I wanted your load most of
all.  Tell me I'm your bitch and you own my holes!"

I was silent as I plowed Max's boy hole, contemplating whether to be
annoyed that Max had begged me to tell him he was my bitch.  I would have
been annoyed with almost every man I had topped.  But I couldn't get mad at
Max.  "Like I told you," I groaned as I gasped for breath, "I own your ass,
your mouth, your cock, your body.  Yes, you're my bitch, and that's never
going to change."

"Oh, yeah, fuck me silly," Max murmured, as if he was on a different
planet.  My black python was hard as a rock and I repeatedly ground it deep
into Max's used boi cunt.  I was beginning to get close when Max exclaimed,
"Oh, God, I'm cumming!"  I felt his hole spasm as he climaxed.

I was puzzled by Max's climax.  With Max's arms tied, it was hands-free,
and two of the lacrosse boys were bottoms, so that meant Max probably had
cum at least twice already tonight.  Two other lacrosse players were
versatile, so Max might have topped both of them and already gotten off
four loads.  Maybe the bottoms wanted him twice and maybe one of the tops
liked to fuck the cum out of whoever was his bottom.  It hadn't occurred to
me that Max had that kind of stamina, but a number of men in Chicago that
hired him had raved about his cock and his fucking, and it wasn't like he
was only doing one or two guys a day during his residence in Tom's hotel.
Max hadn't exactly flagged when he repeatedly pumped Stian's ass in Denver,
either.

Knowing I had at least two or three more loads for Max's ass, I slam fucked
the college boy furiously for fifteen or twenty thrusts after his climax
and then added my load to the cum lake deep in his hole.

I fucked Max's used boi pussy three more times during the night.  Max's
soggy fuck chute was a cum cesspool.  Fucker liked it, though.  Max matched
me climax for climax, spewing three more loads of his own spunk.  He was
easy to push over the edge when I was inside his hole.  He didn't climax
hands-free like the first time, but a couple of good strokes on his cock
was all it took to bring him off.

My big room above the gas station smelled like a cum factory for days.

					* * *

The enjoyment of fucking Max's used boi hole after other men had pumped
their cum into it was luring me into some bad habits.  It was often late
when Max would return from appointments, and knowing Max's boi pussy was
juicy and used, I couldn't resist drilling it.  That was bad enough, but I
compounded the problem by often letting Max stay the rest of the night.  I
rationalized his presence by telling myself I might want to use his hole
again, later in the night or early the next morning, and I often did.  But
I also liked the way Max's ice blue eyes stared at me in the morning and
enjoyed seeing his naked body as he made coffee or showered in my big, open
shower.

I grew used to having Max around, and the college boy went out of his way
to be helpful and pleasant.  The kid would do anything that needed doing,
from the dishes to cleaning to laundry, without being asked or told.  He
was quiet and practically invisible until he detected that I wanted
something, and then he would appear as if by magic.  He was everything a
good sub should be, without my having done a lick of training.  It was
uncanny.

Two weeks after the lacrosse orgy, Max had two early appointments, and when
he appeared in my room afterward, he was carrying an expensive bottle of
wine.  He presented it to me and said simply, "I love two things.  Climbing
rocks and you climbing on top of me and drilling me with your big black
cock.  You're the best thing that ever happened to me."  I didn't respond,
but I downed the entire bottle of wine, fucking Max's sloppy whore hole in
between glasses.  It took me forever to climax in his boi cunt after the
last glass, but Max's hungry, penetrating blue eyes and the pools of cum
that splooged from his cock confirmed that he loved every minute of it.  He
was addicted to my big tool, and whether I could claim credit for training
him or not, he was a perfect sub hungering for the feel of my cock inside
him.

Later, in bed as Max breathed quietly next to me, I reflected on Max's
comment when he gave me the wine – that I was the best thing that had
ever happened to him – and I felt a touch of disquiet.  Thinking back, I
began to put the pieces together.  After our first night together Max told
me that he liked it when I said I owned his white whore ass and he was my
slut bitch.  He asked me to say it again after the lacrosse orgy.  In
Chicago he said that doing what I wanted made him happy, and he was content
when his junk was locked in a chastity cage, as long as I had the only
keys.  And now he had confessed that I was the best thing that had ever
happened to him.

Max was in my bed when I woke up more often than not.  He was the perfect,
natural sub, and was totally enamored with me.  I had grown accustomed to
his presence – more than accustomed.  I was comfortable, even contented
with Max being around continually.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?


THE END

(At least for now...)


I would love to hear your suggestions and feedback.  One reader suggested I
write chapter 8 - `Under the Boot' from Shane's POV; it's a great idea and
I hope to get that on Nifty at some point.

Email me at Coltonaalto@gmail.com


© Copyright Colton Aalto 2015