Date: Fri, 16 May 2014 03:02:10 -0400 From: Somewhat Perverse Subject: Cookies and Cum Cookies and Cum m/m, d/s Inspired by "Cookies and Cream" by Tom Cat. [http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/cookies-and-cream] I knew I was in trouble as soon as Mark's cum splashed on the cookies. His big fingers worked his cockhead, his knees shook, and he shot a long white jet of cum over the plate. It fell in hard, wet splashes across the pyramid of Oreos. He groaned, his eyes rolled, and two slightly smaller spurts rained down on the embossed chocolate. The glazing of semen drooled down the side of the pile. As Mark squeezed out a final few drops, the rest of us kept jerking. Eight boys stood around the coffee table in differing states of undress. Three of us had already come, and the remaining five masturbated furiously, each hoping not to be the last. It was a contest. As my dick twitched again in my hands, hard but unable to finish, I began to fear cookies and cock would be my dinner... On the last night of pledge week, Steve had presented us with a final task. When we got to the basement, we found a big covered silver platter on the coffee table in the center of the room. The easy chairs had been pushed aside to against the television. We gathered around the table. Alex and Mark sprawled on the beige leather sofa. "What's under there?" Alex asked. He cocked a boyish eyebrow and lifted the edge of the cover with his pale fingers. "Open it up," Steve said. He was a senior, with a square jaw and short blonde hair. His pale jeans and short-sleeved button-down shirt revealed his furry arms and bare feet. Alex leaned forward and lifted the lid. His straight black bangs shook as he pulled the silver hemisphere aside, revealing a pyramid of Oreos. Ian reached for a cookie. Steve slapped his hand. "Only one of you gets desert tonight. It's a contest." The rest of us looked at him. Chris and Damon stirred uncomfortably. Ron grimaced. Steve's last game had involved us carrying eggs with our butt-cheeks. Steve flashed a wide, white-toothed smile. "Here're the rules. There will be one loser and seven winners. The eight of you will jack off over the cookies. Whoever comes last loses and pays the penalty." "Eww, gross," whined Alex, but as he said it, he ran his hand over his crotch. Chris reached for his buckle. "Pervy," said Damon. "What's the penalty?" asked Jason. He was a huge boy, built like a troll. "The loser eats the cookies, of course. The winners are in the frat." Ian frowned. "What about the loser? Is he out?" He looked a lot like Steve: strong jaw, blond hair, and a serious face like a young JFK. He was pre-law or something, always alert for the catch. Steve grinned a predatory smile. "If he says he still wants in, he needs to blow everyone else in the room. No problem, he should be used to the taste of cum by then." "Hell," said Mark. "The door's that way, if you want to leave," Steve said. "Who's in?" A few of us looked away, but no one moved. Ron pushed his glasses back like Harry Potter. With his short hair and dark horn-rims, I couldn't tell if he was a nerd or hipster or both. My cock stirred in my pants. Seven hot guys masturbating and a blow job afterwards? This could be good. I wondered who would lose. Alex's lips would look especially fine wrapped around my cock. He had a girl's face anyway. But any of them, even Jason would be fine -- I could just close my eyes and imagine it was a woman. "I'm in," I said. "We're all in," Chris said. "None of you could beat me at anything, anyway," Alex proclaimed. Steve stood aside. "I'll give you a minute to get comfortable before we start. No jerking till I give the signal." We gathered around the table. Alex unfolded from the couch. He unbuckled his jeans, kicked them to his knees, and jerked down a pair of whitey-tighties. He took a preliminary grip on his pale cock as he adjusted a tee shirt the color of steel. I loved the way his bangs fell over his round face. He was eastern European something (Greek maybe?), and his ink-black hair contrasted with his light, creamy skin. Ian took position to my left. He tugged his striped shirt-tails out of his khaki shorts. He had long, tanned legs. A determined look flashed across his face as he took his curving cock in hand. Mark dropped his jeans and jockeys and stood beside Alex. His yellow tee-shirt floated above his muscular thighs and half-hard cock. He nervously ran his big hands through his brown shock and half-covered himself as he bounced on his heels. Beside Mark stood the undoubted leader of our class Chris, a confident, charismatic boy with dark hair and blue eyes. To my lasting delight, he stripped off his clothing completely, and stood nude and perfect. His thick cock bogbbed in front of him, untouched as yet. He saw me looking and laughed. I thought he was sexy as hell. Damon joined the circle to my right. He pulled his green shirt over his head. Short curly hair dusted his dark chest. When he pulled out his dick, I gazed at it, curious at what a black one looked like. I decided I wanted complete freedom. I pulled my shirt over my head, then shucked off my shorts and shoes. My cock was so hard. I ran my hands over my thighs, trying not to touch it yet. "Happy there, Dave?" Chris asked. I blushed a bit at the exposure. Ron took his place to Chris' left. He undid his white shirt button by button. Under it, his startlingly muscled abs flexed sinuously. One leg cocked, foot in hand, he pulled off shorts and tossed them aside. He pulled his briefs down just enough to free his cock. The cotton hugged his balls. His thighs strained. He adjusted his glasses again. Jason joined the circle last, between Ron and Chris. He opened his rust-covered shirt, but delicately removed his jeans. He was huge, with enormous thighs and a broad chest. His face scrunched with concentration beneath a short haircut, and his youthful face flushed. His proportionately huge cock strained. We gathered around the pyramid of cookies. The antique platter must have been in the house for decades. Filigree and flourishes ringed its edge and vanished under the piled cookies. We stood close, barely able fit all our dicks over the plate at once. The table came up to just below my knees. Steve leaned against the discarded chairs. He regarded us all with a cruel smile. He was enjoying this too much. "Gentlemen, you may begin... now!" We started jerking. Alex's hands fingered his pale cock like a flute. He clutched the sweet spot under the head, and a gentle pink flush climbed up his cabled neck. He groaned. I decided I really liked watching him. Next to him, Ian worked out a rhythm on his curving organ. He alternated his hands like he was feeding a rope though this fists. He hardly touched his cockhead, whose peeking lips began to glisten with precum. His long legs shook as he increased speed. I massaged my own shaft with my thumb and forefinger as I drank in the sights. Not too fast, I decided. Beside them and nearly directly across from me, Mark pulled on his thick cock. He liked bending it down and taut. His pinching grip looked almost painful. His big fingers collided with his nuts. The hem of Mark's yellow shirt floated across his belly and ass. His proportions were lean, muscled, and athletic. He moaned and scrunched his chipmunk face. To my right, Damon teased himself. I glanced over. He stood just out of my field of vision, so looking at him seemed more like spying. He had a wide dick. The coloration fascinated me: the dark skin above, the pink underside and head. He grunted and groaned, and a drop of precum ran across his knuckles and splattered onto the cookies – the first to touch them. Beside him, Jason jerked his meat. His huge hands almost completely covered his cock. (Not that it wasn't large too.) His thighs clenched, like solid walls of hairy muscle. His neck strained. He played some football or rugby or something. I found him impressive but not my type. I stroked faster as I turned towards Ron. He was more ripped than I'd imagined from the loose clothing he always wore. His open shirt flapped around a truly beautiful chest. His abdominals flexed like fists in a sack. He ran his offhand over his pecs and under his shirt. He titled his head back to keep his glasses on as he jerked. He caught me looking and stared at me down his nose. Chris was completely naked and totally magnificent: by far the best looking boy there. He used both hands in a variety of rhythms. A wicked grin spread across his youthful face, and his blue eyes were lidded. I wondered what he looked like when he was face-fucking some girl. It seemed a shame for him to waste his load on mere cookies. The room filled with groans, and the scent of pre-cum and sex wafted into the air. We stood close enough that I heard every breath and exhalation. The gentle sound of fapping increased. From across the room, Steve regarded us all. His own hand moved unconsciously against his thigh. Alex was the first to come. "Oh oh oh!" he cried. His pale fingers teased his cock and pulled his organ taut. His cockhead flared as he directed his dick at the cookies. A beatific smile overtook his face, and he arched his back and released a long jet of cum. It struck the pyramid of Oreos. Thin cloudy solution ran down the side, followed by slower-moving, whiter globs. I watched fascinated as they traced their way down the pile. Alex shouted again as he shot a second round. He clenched his grey shirt in one fist as he finished. I jerked myself hard at the sight, but Ian was closer to the edge than I was. Suddenly, his knuckles whitened with liquid. His cockhead sprayed rather than shot as his fists passed over it. Cum ran down from his fingers and spattered from his dick. Droplets disturbed Alex's load as it migrated down the pile. Little white splashes like rain hitting puddles misted the air. I felt the spray on my bare shins. As he finished, Ian's legs folded, and he released his grip. His still-hard cock bounced, a liquid sheen glistening on its curve. My balls tightened, and I felt the juice in my shaft. I almost regretted that the rest of the show wouldn't be nearly as arousing after I'd shot. Soon, I thought. Mark's thighs shook beneath the hem of his yellow tee. He pulled on the head, splaying it with his fingers. His boyish face flushed, and his biceps strained in his tight shirt. I thought he looked really fine, and my own orgasm seemed eminent in my balls. Then Mark began cumming, three big white ropes of cum. They collided with the top of the pyramid, pooled, and ran down the side. The smell of jizz became pungent, overwhelming. My arousal hit a peak, my dick spasmed, and ... nothing. I was hotter than I'd ever been in my life, but I just couldn't cum. Like I said, that's when I knew I was in trouble. Beside me, Damon groaned. I titled my head to watch him shoot. His big, thick blasts smashed onto the side of the pyramid. A milky glaze now covered most of the cookies; it pooled on the terraces and dripped down the sides. Who knew four boys had so much cum in them? Then it was Ron's turn. He stepped forward boldly, like he was declaring war on the Oreos. His balls clenched, tightening visibly towards the base of his cock. His impressive abs curled. The skin around his navel trembled. I jerked myself hard. Ron was a hot sight; hot enough, I hoped, to push me over the edge. Cum rose in my balls again, and as Ron began to shoot, I cried out a little too. He fired directly at the cookies. There was no arching; he stood too close. His jets of cum burst against the pyramid, sending up a spray. A ripple like an orgasm passed through me, but all that came out was a single drop. I groaned in frustration bordering on panic. Only three of us were left still jerking. The others stared, wondering who would be last. Alex tugged on his half-hard cock. Ian wiped himself. Damon rested against the sofa behind us. I pulled on myself, gripped my favorite spot, and tried to build up again. Jason came in the meantime. His hands unfolded from his big dick. He gripped his shaft at the base of his balls and thrust forward. A slow-velocity rope of cum arched out over the pile. It soaked the far side. Jason followed it with a second smaller load and milked out a few last drops. I looked across, directly into Chris's piercing blue eyes. His big arms flexed as he stroked himself slowly. He smiled at me. If he was the least bit worried about losing, he never showed it. My knees wobbled as I regarded his magnificent body and perfect poise. As if seeing my panic, he nodded. A chant started up across the room. "Chris! Chris! Chris!" I jerked myself furiously. My ass-cheeks clenched, and cum boiled in the base of my shaft. I thrust my dick forward. I was so incredibly hot, I wanted to fuck the air to cool down. "Dave!" someone shouted. Alex I think. "Dave! Dave!" cried a few others. I was on the edge, and everyone knew it. I looked down at the plate of cookies. Cum coated them almost completely and continued its slow drip towards the platter. All around me stood naked boys, with dicks hard or half-hard. In front of me Chris ran his fingers leisurely over his huge cock, perfect in its thickness. "You want this, don't you?" he asked. My knees shook, and my whole body tensed. I groaned, I shook, and .. nothing happened. Chris laughed as he shot the load that doomed me. With a flick of his finger and thumb on the underside of his cock, he came. Semen welled from the slit of his cock head, and he released one jet: two, three, four. Legs spread like he was taking a piss, Chris directed his cum at the Oreos. He moaned, but the smile never left his face as he stared me down. "Chris! Chris! Chris!" several of them shouted I didn't know if it was Chris' stare, the knowledge that I'd just lost, or simply the overwhelming scent of cum, but I finally found release. My hips bucked, and I shot. A huge blast pulsed through my dick-lips. It collided with Ian's load on the Oreos, and two wads drifted slowly down the side. I shook out a third spray, but there were already hands on my shoulders. Steve detached himself from the far wall and its chairs. "I declare Dave the loser. He must now eat the Oreos and the cum of all those who are now brothers. They deserve no less." Damon and Ian shoved me to my knees, level with the platter of obscenely-soaked Oreos. I almost knocked over my new meal, but I caught myself on the table edge. I rocked back on my knees, finding my balance. I was completely naked. "Eat! Eat! Eat!" The other boys gathered around me. I glanced up at their contemptuous, excited, shouting faces. Some of their dicks were half-hard again. Alex was stroking himself. I knew that once I finished, I'd be sucking them all, whether I wanted to or not. There'd be no denying them now. I regarded the pyramid of cookies. The stack stood almost a foot high: at least one box's worth, maybe two. Cum clung to every flat surface and oozed down the sides like a glaze. My eye made out different consistencies: there Ian's milky load, there Alex's thicker blasts and runnier solution. Damon's wads were still coherent, like thick cheese. Chris' coated the top in a liquid layer. I would swear I could even tell the differences in smell, and, God help me, they all smelled wonderful. Fear turned in my chest. Not only would I be eating eight loads of cum, I wanted to eat them. I wanted to suck every magnificent dick, experience each and every boy fucking my face, and compare the tastes fresh from the spigot. "Eat! Eat! Eat!" they shouted, shoving. "Okay already!" I said. I drew a deep breath and pulled a cookie from the stack. Cum dripped as I lifted it to my nose. Mostly Ian's and Alex's, I guessed. It came from that part of the stack. "Holy shit!" said Alex. "He's really doing it!" Ron snorted and adjusted his glasses with one hand. The other massaged his dangling cock. "Of course he is. Dave's gay for all of us." Have you ever really looked at an Oreo? The whole surface is lettering. Semen clung to the hollows, slowly softening the hard cookie. I licked hesitantly. It wasn't my first taste of cum (I'd fooled around), but I'd never tasted it like this: pungent, salty, still warm with body heat, partly cooled from the blast of orgasm. I popped the whole cookie in my mouth and chewed. The familiar sugar and chocolate of the cookie contrasted with the organic taste of cum. I swallowed. "He loves it!" said Alex. Chris laughed, "I think you'll be getting your blow job too, Greek boy." "At least," said Ian. I wondered what he meant. He leaned his bare ass against the sofa, removed the khaki shorts he'd kept on this whole time, and stretched his long legs. His foot pushed me towards the pile again. I pulled another cookie from the stack, one near the top this time. I was pretty sure the cum on it belonged to Chris. I popped it into my mouth and stared up at him as I chewed. He smirked at me and twitched his hanging dick. "Wow," said Mark. In response I grabbed a handful from his side of the pile. He was my brown-haired boy. My cock, never entirely softened, returned to full mast. I ate greedily, chewing as much as I could. I wolfed down the slime, sugar, and hard crumbs. The top cookies tumbled down onto the plate. I chewed some covered with Ian's cum, and some with Damon's, and some with Jason's. I made a special show of eating Ron's. His big, dorky glasses and hyper-masculine abs turned me on, as did the white jockeys cradling his balls. The taste of his cum was different, tangier. I wanted more from him and soon. I dug into the center of the pile, where there were more cookies and less cum. The pyramid had kept these dry. I devoured them as quickly as I could, so I could get back to the soaked cookies along the edge. Alex stroked himself furiously. He pushed his jeans down further to accommodate his dick. The dark hair of his pubes and thighs contrasted with his pale skin. "I can't stand it anymore!" he declared. He grabbed the back of my head with one hand and shoved his long cock into my surprised mouth still full of half-chewed cookies and cream. My sticky fingers collided with his denim-covered thighs. I drooled, locked lips on his shaft, and sucked as he bobbed up and down. His silken cock felt fantastic as he thrust against my tongue and the ragged fragments of cookie. It wasn't my first dick either, but I'd never wanted one like I wanted this boy's. My hands found his ass-cheeks. They clenched and unclenched under my fingers. Alex released my head and pulled off his grey tee-shirt, revealing his pale, torso: thin, but not unmuscled. "Suck me!" he cried. I did my best. Alex wasn't one for stamina; he'd been the first to cum before too. His rhythm increased. He bucked against me, clamped my head, and fucked my face. His dickhead collided with the back of my mouth, seeking my throat. He stared me in the eye, his angelic face made wicked by his total dominance of me. His clenching ass turned iron with flexing muscle. A familiar taste filled my mouth with each squirt. His shaft swelled and his cockhead flared. "Take it, Dave!" He pulled out, trailing, and I reluctantly released his ass. Matt looked down at me. "You still have to finish the plate," he said. He nudged me with his foot. I returned to the platter, but there was a new tension around my meal. The circle of boys and cocks closed around me. As I bent to scarf down another dripping treat, Damon's dick collided with my cheek. Mark and Ron fapped right on eyes and hair, and Chris and Jason were only inches away. Ian remained behind me with one bare foot on the middle of my back. He pushed me every so often, keeping me off balance as I gobbled. The pyramid had completely disintegrated, scattering the remaining cookies across the platter. I scraped up as much cum as I could with each one, and wolfed them down as I stole glances at the boys all around me. That turned me on as much as anything: the eyes of my friends, crinkling with desire and masturbatory abandon. I don't think any of them expected me to finish the cookies before the next blow job. It was only a question of which one would reach for me and how soon. Damon broke first. He grabbed me by my shoulders and pulled me towards him. Obediently, I opened my mouth. He slid his plump cock past my lips. His balls bounced against my chin. I leaned in. His organ tasted of cum and sweat. I sucked and bobbed. He closed his eyes and locked hands behind his head. He rocked with me as I massaged his chest and thighs. My fingers teased his curling body hair. His shaft hardened and rose. One hand found the top of my head, bracing me more firmly as I worked. He turned my face, trying new angles. He liked the tongue swirl, so I did it again. Damon's legs strained, and he pushed farther and more insistently into my mouth. With a sudden thrust, he came. His load seemed smaller, less forceful, than it had been before, but then it was his second orgasm of the evening. I licked my lips as he pulled out. Suddenly shy, he looked away. "My turn," declared Mark. He strode around the edge of the card table and pushed it out of the way. The platter of cookies shook. Mark grabbed a last handful, and thrust them into my mouth. He held my jaw as I chewed, and gazed down at me as if seeking some secret in my eyes. "Such as slut," he remarked. He shook his head, and his brown bangs rippled. Mark leaned against the table edge and spread his legs. I admired his strong quads as he leaned back and pulled his hard dick. His thumb and forefinger pinched the shaft in a painful-looking grip. He shot me a needy stare from the horizontal. "Work me," he commanded. I crawled into position between his spread legs and gripped his shaft. His cock stained hot and silken in my palm. He retreated his fingers to the very tip, still pinching as I pumped my fist. His other hand clutched the hem of his yellow shirt. I lowered my mouth towards his trembling tip and licked his flexing, pinching fingers. He groaned. Gently, I prized his hand away from his knob and lowered my mouth over him. I sucked as hard as I could. He liked it intense, so I didn't let up. I rolled his scrotum with my finger-tips. His hand found my shoulder and squeezed it desperately. My back arched, and my hard dick rubbed against our legs as I worked. From behind me on the sofa, Ian ran his foot across my outstretched ass. I pulled off Mark with a pop, and shot a glance back at Ian where he sat sprawled on the sofa, feeling me up with his foot. He grinned at me. "Please don't stop," Mark begged. I dived back down, sucking hard on Mark's flaring head. I flexed my fist on his shaft. Mark's ass rose, and his legs strained against the floor. He screamed as he shot into my mouth. His cum drooled past my lips and over my fingers. A rivulet of semen ran across his thigh. I sucked for a moment more. Sore and sensitive, Mark writhed under my touch. I knew he'd like that. I cleaned my fingers with my tongue as he lay there groaning. At last, he shook himself and rose, his yellow tee soaked with sweat. He stroked my hair. "Good Davey," he said. Chris regarded me with a blue-eyed stare. "I think Jason should be next. It will be a challenge." I wondered what he meant as I chewed one of the last Oreos. Shyly, Jason rounded the corner. The big boy wedged into the small space between me and the table. His thighs collided with the edge. His huge hands almost covered his dick. When he opened them, I realized what Chris meant. Despite long stroking, Jason's thick cock was still flaccid and half-hard. Maybe he just needed some loving. I leaned in, pushed the hems of his rusty shirt aside and took his cock into my mouth. My tongue wrapped his soft shaft and spongy head. I ran my hands over his belly and played with his balls. Jason moaned. His cock hardened and expanded. As the head swelled, I explored the helmet and underside, slathering it with saliva. Jason leaned against the table as his erection grew. His cock bent upwards. I adjusted my position. He began a rhythm, clutching the table with both hands and flexing his buttocks. I sucked harder in encouragement. The table shook under Jason's thrashing weight. Body heat poured from his cock and thighs. The platter danced across the table and fell. His huge cock swelled, almost too large for my mouth, and he shot. My mouth filled with cum. It spilled past my lips and down my chin. I sucked and swirled. After a moment, Jason pulled out, wiped his dick on my cheek, and grunted as he retreated. Ian nudged me again with his foot. "Finish the platter." I looked at him sprawling on the sofa. "What?" "There's still cum on it. Clean it up." I crawled over to where it had fallen. My super-charged cock bounced painfully against my thighs. Ian rose from the sofa and followed behind me, stroking himself. The platter lay covered in crumbs. Cum clung to its etched surface like a sheen of milk. Ron and Chris stepped back as I leaned over it. Ian put his foot on my shoulders. "Down," he commanded. I licked with his hot heel on my neck. The cum had cooled, and become a bit disgusting, but it still tasted salty and sweet. Ian knelt and rubbed his hard cock against my upraised buttocks. "I think you know what I want, Dave." I paused. I'd never taken a cock up my ass before, but Ian's curving organ felt really good against my crack. Ian looked at Steve. "I know it's not in the mouth, but I assume that will be okay." Steve regarded us, hands on his hips. "Ask the slut." Ian stroked me again. "Fuck me," I said. "Please." My face flushed with humiliation. Ian kneed my legs apart and gripped my hips. He pressed his hot cockhead against my ring. I wondered how the huge thing would ever fit inside. I shadow fell over me. Ron pressed his bare foot against my head. I looked up at his spectacled face and hard smile. "Keep licking," he said. His foot pushed my face sideways through the cum. My tongue trailed across the surface. Chris laughed. Ian pushed. My sphincter stretched like a rubber band, and he slid his cock all the way into me. The fullness and heat were incredible. He slapped my upraised ass. My knees buckled, and I groaned in a combination of pleasure and extremis. Ian's cock curved against the direction of my guts. I shuddered as his cockhead stretched and scraped my colon. As his thrusts worked up speed, Ian's thighs brushed my buttocks. My cock swung like a pendulum. Ian's hard shaft strained. His balls collided with my perineum and scrotum. His grip held my hips in place. "Fuck him hard!" Mark cried from across the room. I turned my face, but didn't see him. Instead I found myself staring up the muscular length of Ron's legs. His briefs clung to the underside of his balls. He fingered himself as he stood over me, his heel smearing my face and hair against the platter. The taste and smell of cum coated my nose and lips, and my own hot breath reflected from the silver. Behind me, Ian's cock pummeled my guts like an unstinting hammer. My overstimulated ass pumped Ian's shaft like a fist, and my whole body shuddered. Ian arched his hips and slammed short, hard strokes into my ass as he approached his goal. His cock swelled and heated like a bar of gold, and then he was cumming, shot after furious shot deep into my guts. "Take it, bitch!" he cried. "Take it!" My dick strained and my balls clenched, but I didn't cum. Maybe my body wanted to savor every last drop of humiliation before it gave me release. Ian steadied my shaking buttocks as he pulled out. He swept my discarded shirt off the floor, rose, and wiped his cooling organ. Standing there, long and lean and covered in a sheen of sweat he looked very hot indeed. I flopped to the ground. Ian's cum ran slowly from my ass. Chris and Ron, hard and still unblown, regarded me. "Who's next?" Ron asked. He wore his shirt loose, and his tight briefs still cradled his balls. "Be my guest," said Chris, god-like and completely naked. He shrugged his hand magnanimously. Around the rest of the room, the other boys watched with interest. Steve stood, arms crossed, the only one fully-clothed. Ron pushed his thick-framed glasses up his nose. He idly stroked his jutting cock. "Get on the plate," he said. "After all, you're our desert." Obedient, I shuffled onto the platter. Slobber and the remnants of eight loads smeared my shins. Ron stepped up to me. He shrugged his open shirt out of the way and presented his cock. His briefs stretched under his balls, pushing his dick up and out. The red head glistened with precum. Ron had been stroking it for a long time now. I reached out, eager to feel it and to touch his amazing abs. He slapped my hands. "Nuh-uh!" he said. "Behind your back. I'm in charge here, and you're just the hole." I settled back onto my haunches and folded my hands just above my buttocks. Somehow, the position felt even more humiliating and vulnerable than face down on the platter. My dick twitched, hotter and harder than hell. Ron gripped my chin and thrust his brief-covered balls into my face. My nostrils filled with the smell of sweat as I tongued his cotton-covered package. Ron turned my head this way and that and sighed with pleasure. Ron thrust his index finger in my still open mouth. I sucked on it. It tasted like his crotch. He shook his waiting cock. "You really want this, don't you?" "Yes sir," I said. Ron laughed and slid his cock into my waiting mouth. "Make sure I don't slip out." I closed my lips on him. He proceeded to fuck my face. He looked down at me through spectacled eyes. His amazing abs clenched in front of my eyes. His big cockhead slammed against my tongue and throat. I leaned into his thrusts, trying not to fall over. Ron moaned and gripped my hair. My balance faltered. I fell forward, and his spearing cock penetrated my trachea. I gagged. He felt so huge and so hot. My lips touched the elastic of his briefs. His balls tightened under the soft cotton, and his legs trembled as he approached the edge. Abruptly, Ron pulled out of my mouth. I gasped for air, mouth open and hands still behind my back. Ron's fingers flew over his shaft, and then he was cumming. I closed my eyes as the first shot hit my forehead. Wet splats coated my hair, and the runoff tricked down my cheeks and brow. Ron aimed his second at my mouth. An arc of semen splashed over my lips and outstretched tongue. A third followed. I opened my eyes to see him milking his softening cock. The last long rope of cum dripped from the end of his dick into my mouth. It tasted tangy and green. I swallowed and licked my lips. Ron turned to Chris as he pushed away from me. "Next!" My face flushed. Chris stepped up to me. Of all the boys in the room, he was the most confident and assured: the most aggressive. I regarded his lean, beautiful body. He wasn't as big as Jason, or as muscled as Ron, but his proportions were perfect. His blue eyes crinkled with amusement and a touch of cruelty. "I knew you were going to lose, Dave. I knew it because I knew you wanted this." His gesturing hand took in his entire body, but it ended on his cock. He didn't touch it; he just let it hang there. It was as mouth-wateringly perfect as the rest of him, hard but still downward-facing. "Isn't that right?" My hands brushed my thighs. "Please let me suck you." Chris laughed. His commanding eye took in the rest of the room. He shook his dick, asserting his dominance over me (and the other watchers too). "Jerk yourself as you touch me," he said. "I want you to show everyone what gets you off." Chris pulled my head onto his cock and placed my right fist around the base of his shaft. It felt fitting to dedicate my right hand to him and use only my awkward left on myself. He slid gently in my mouth, keeping me in place with both hands. As I sucked, I rose on my knees and spread my legs. My off hand found my cock, so hard and so sensitive it hurt to touch. I ran my tongue over Chris's knob in my mouth. My thumb found the fleshy place where his shaft met scrotum. His hand remained wrapped around mine. Whenever I went too fast, he squeezed, bringing me back to pace. I was close, so close to exploding. My left hand flew up and down my straining shaft. My buttocks squirmed, and my balls tightened. My body shuddered on the edge, but still I was locked tight. Chis grinned. "You can't do it, can you? Not before me. You want my cum." I groaned affirmatively. "Well, here it comes." Chris' fingers gripped my hair as he began to thrust in earnest. Chris' cock swelled to his limits. His balls slapped my chin. His eyes never left my own as he emptied himself in me. Shots of his cum (the best-tasting of the lot) filled my mouth. I bobbed furiously, and squeezed my own beleaguered dick. The instant Chris was done shooting, while his magnificent cock was still thrusting in my cum-filled mouth, my body relented and opened. Jets of cum arced from my fist. Great splatters broke against the filigreed surface of the platter. Chris pulled out and wiped his cock on the side of my face. He regarded the rest of the room. "I think this is going to be a great year, with Dave in the frat." Steve shook his head. "Dave isn't in the frat yet." "What?" My voice trembled as I came down off my high. Steve looked down at me. "You still haven't sucked off everyone in the room. There's one left." I regarded him, my hand still on my dick. I felt it stir. "I'll suck you," I said. "Of course you will." Steve unzipped his fly and pulled out a lean cock with a pale head. It unfolded as it left the tight confines of his jeans and boxers. He'd kept the poor rumbled thing trapped during our whole show. I leaned down onto it, and Steve emitted a luxuriating groan. He said, "You know you've broken more than one rule, Dave? You sucked half the class before you finished the cookies. You never declared you wanted in the frat when you finished. You let Ian fuck you in the ass instead of the mouth. And you forgot about me. That's almost unforgiveable." Steve's cock was already leaking a new, unfamiliar-tasting cum. He wouldn't last long. "Just sucking me won't get you into the frat now. I'd be in ... uhh ... my rights to kick you on the streets. Like Chris said ... ohhh ... like he said, I'll need something else from you." "A year!" I begged around his cock. "Let me in, and I'll suck anyone in the frat for a year. I'll be on call, as or mouth, anytime, anywhere!" Steve laughed. "Alright. We won't even assign you a bed. You'll be sleeping everywhere." My cock leapt in my hand. Suddenly, I was coming again – almost dry, but coming again, for a last time that evening." Steve gave a final thrust and then he was coming, too, flooding my mouth with a full, fresh load of jizz. I slurped and swallowed it. I looked from face to face to face of my pledge brothers. Some of them sprawled in post coital-lust. A few, like Alex and Mike were already stroking again. My mouth tasted of their semen. It coated my hair and face and thighs and ass as I sprawled on a silver presentation platter. I knew, this might be my last evening with cookies and cream, but it wasn't my last night for cock and cum.