Date: Mon, 31 Jul 2023 00:56:23 -0400
From: (Anonymous)
Subject: Queer College Roommate Chapter 6

Disclaimer: This is a fantasy for those who might enjoy reading about
consensual domination of a gay man by "straight" men. The characters are
not real, and the events and situations depicted are not meant to
advocate or approve of anything at all in real life. If you are offended
by this subject, or if your city/state/district/country/empire forbids
you to read such trash, or if you just want to read it so you can feel
scandalized and bitch about how it's exploitative or homophobic or
whatever, DON'T READ IT.


How to Use Your Queer College Roommate

By Anonymous



Chapter 6. The Games Studs Play


Update! Wow bros, six fucking chapters so far! I hope you are ready for
the quiz haha.


So -- bros -- have you got your own queer roommate yet?


Besides all the benefits of a queer roommate you read about in the last
chapters, like the queer writing your papers and washing your jockstraps
and such, queers are also real good for lazy afternoons when your sitting
around with bros and your bored and looking to have some fun. So this is
what happened end of last semester with me and my bros using my queer
roommate. And like before, this story is told from the fag's point of
view.


You can try using your queer roommate like this with your buds and
teammates and I guarantee you will have some fun.


Stay hard!


Wes

___________________________________________


"Geezus fuckin Krist, pick up the fuckin ball and throw it."


Wes and his buddies were sitting on the couch watching the game on the
dorm room TV. Sure enough, Jack was there, the jock who charged me ten
bucks to smell his logs, and another big muscled team member, who
everybody called Aggy, because he transferred to ___________ from Texas
A&M.


It was Aggy who was cussing out some player who had fumbled the ball or
whatever. I couldn't tell what happened on that play (or any play),
cause I was on my stomach licking Aggy's feet. Every once in a while
when my tongue was between his big toes he wiggled them.


It was May, the end of the semester, and a hot day, and the studs were
sitting around watching the game and I could smell their sweat.


"Hey fagot, over here" said Jack. And I crawled over to the big
arrogant jock and lay on my stomach and kissed his sneaks.


Then somebody hit a homer or whatever, and the stadium crowd went crazy
and started roaring and the three studs on the couch yelled "WHOAAA!
FUCK YEAH!"


"Man, what a play!" said the announcer. And the crowd cheered and Wes
clapped his hands together real loud.


"Go Rangers!"



I'd been lying on the floor kissing and licking the jocks' feet and
kissing Jack's sneakers since the beginning of the game, while they
ignored me. Every once in a while Wes commented on plays, like "What the
fuck, that ref is fucked. That was a fuckin ball." And Aggy with a thick
Texas accent, "Where the fuck they get this fuckin pitcher at, fucker
can't throw a strike with a full count, what the fuck." And Jack with
his low-pitched gruff voice every few minutes, "Motherfucker!"


A week prior, Wes decided -- now that he had broken me in and owned me
the way only a straight man can own a fag -- that it was time to let his
straight athlete buds use me too. So here they were sitting on the couch
watching the game. They swilled cans of beer and sometimes leaned forward
and spit on me. Sometimes Aggy would want me to switch from licking one
of his feet to the other, and so he pushed my face with his big foot to
get me to switch.


"My turn, fagot. Over here" said Wes. I got most excited kissing Wes's
feet because they smelled like his dirty sneakers and actually his feet
were dirty too. It made me feel more like a  queer, to lick his dirty
feet and smell the stink left by his sneakers while I worshiped the big
jock's toes. He leaned back and put his feet up so I could put my face
in his long wide soles and smell them as I kissed them.


"Yo, cocksucker," said Jack, "get me a beer." I went on my hands and
knees over to the cooler and flipped the lid open. But he had come up
behind me.


"Stay right there fagot, I feel like kicking ass." And he pushed my
head down with his sneaker so my ass stuck up, and started kicking me
with the side of his foot. And his foot was so big that each kick landed
squarely across both my asscheeks.


"Fuckin cocksucker," he said contemptuously, and he wandered over to
the couch again and plopped down. And I brought him his can of beer.


"Hey Aggy" said Wes, "you know this fagot likes to smell ass?"

And they all laughed.


Aggy said, "Fuck yeah, Wes, fuck yeah."


"Queer paid me to smell my shit," said Jack.


And Aggy added, "Fags need to learn what a man's ass smells like. Over
here, fagot, on your knees." He stood, and I knelt before him. He
unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped the fly and his jeans slid down to the
floor. He kicked them off and stood in front of me in his boxer shorts
with my face only inches from his bulge.


"Take `em off" he ordered. I pulled his boxers down his hips and slid
them down his hard muscled thighs and over his rounded calves, and he
stepped out of them. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Wes and Jack
smiling broadly. They liked this game.


I stared at his big uncut dick and his low swinging balls and hairy
thighs. Not for long, though, cause he picked up his jeans and pulled
them back on, and stuffed his big fat pecker down the side of his leg,
and zipped up his jeans again.


"Pick `em up" he ordered, "and put `em over your head."


So I put his boxers on my head kinda like a dumbass cap. A bunch of
commercials was playing on the set, so Jack and Wes were watching Aggy,
amused at what he was gonna do. He turned the boxers around with his big
hands so the fly was at back of my head and the seat of his boxers was in
front, and pulled them down over my head like a hood. The soft fabric was
warm from being against his hot body. I felt his big hand cover my face
and he pressed the inside of the seat of his boxers against my face.


"That's how a man's ass smells, fagot," he said. And he rubbed the
boxers in my face and against my nose. "Let me hear you smell my ass,
cocksucker" he ordered, and I inhaled deeply.


"Fuckin fagot," he said contemptuously and his big hand slapped me
across the face while I breathed in the smell of his ass. That made my
dick even harder.


"Lick my feet, fagot" said Jack, and Aggy grabbed me roughly in his big
hands and dragged me over to where Jack sat and pushed my head down on
his feet.


I started to take the boxer hood off my head.


"What the fuck you doing, queer?" said Aggy. "Did I tell you to take
my boxers off your fuckin head? Lick his feet!"


Of course I couldn't see anything with the boxer-hood over my head, but
I felt Jack's big feet under my face and started licking, getting the
boxers wet with my tongue while I worshiped the jock's feet.


"Queer's licking your butt streak," said Wes, and they all laughed.


And for sure, I did what I was told -- worshiped one jock's feet while I
tasted the other jock's ass.


And after awhile Aggy jerked the boxers off my head and told me to get on
my knees. He unbuttoned his jeans again and unzipped the fly and turned
with his back to me. He wriggled his hips as he pulled the top of his
tight jeans just below his butt cheeks, so the globes of his ass rested
on the waistband and belt loops.


"Git you face in there," he said with his heavy Texas accent. "Git in
there, boy!"


His globes were smooth and round, and his butt was so firm and his glutes
so strong from his athletic training, that it took some effort to wriggle
my face between his butt cheeks. And it made my dick so hard to be
kneeling with my face in his ass that I thought I'd fucking explode, and
my cock was leaking precum. But the big dumb Texas jock did nothing, just
stood there with my face in his ass crack, while I breathed in his
smell.


"Kiss my asshole" he ordered. I pressed my lips against his butthole
and he pushed his hips back a bit and shifted side to side to press his
hole harder against my lips and feel my cheeks between his asscheeks.
"Yeah. Kiss it, fagot."


"Hey Wes," said Jack, "what do you think jocks oughta do with a queer
who smells men's asses?"


"Dang," Wes said, "men oughta punish the fag for smelling them."


And while they talked about punishing me I was rubbing my lips against
Aggy's hole and smelling him in my face. And while he stood and let me
worship his ass and smell him, Aggy pulled his belt out of the loops of
his jeans.


"Here ya go fellas, use this."


And I heard one of them get up and stand behind me, and Jack's voice
saying, "Now don't you fuckin move, fagot. Don't you dare fuckin
move."


And he snapped the belt to let me know what was coming, or maybe  just to
feel the leather snap between his hands before he used it. I heard a
whoosh and the leather strap cut across my jeans and stung my ass, so
that I started. But still I kept my face between the big Texan's
buttcheeks and kissed his asshole. And Jack, the big LaCrosse athlete,
beat my ass and strapped my back with the belt while I smelled his
teammate's ass.


"There ya go, fagot, that's what you get for smelling a man."


"Queer's kissing my asshole, dudes," said Aggy and they laughed.


"Hold on, hold on," said Wes. "I want me some of that."


He grabbed me by my hair and roughly pulled my face out of Aggy's butt
and threw me on my back against the floor. He towered above me and he
pointed at me, scowling threateningly, and said "Stay there."


He was wearing thin gray cut-off sweats that clung to his bulge and
asscheeks, and his shirtless chest was covered with sweat. He jettisoned
the sweats, and stood in nothing but his white briefs and his cock and
balls bulging inside them.


"Now watch this, bros" he said. He got on the floor and straddled me,
with his knees against my sides, and facing away so that the outline of
his butt in his white briefs was over my face. He wriggled his butt like
a batter adjusting his stance at the plate, tensed his glutes, and looked
over his shoulder to line up his butt crack with my nose, and lowered his
ass on my face.


He sat on my face and pressed his ass crack against my nose. His briefs
were wet with sweat. He rubbed his crack up and down against my nose,
wiping the wet cotton briefs on my face, then settled down again and sat
on me with his asshole pressed into my nose.


"Smell that, fagot? That's the way a MAN smells."


Then Jack said that they should punish me again for smelling men, and
kicked my legs apart. I knew it was Jack because he was the only one of
the three wearing sneakers.


"What ya think, boys? Should I kick the fagot in the balls?"


I tried to protest but with Wes sitting on my face and holding my arms
against my sides, bracing them with his knees, all I could muster was a
muffled "mmmff, MMMFFF."


"What's that, fagot? I think the queer said yes."


I tried to nod my head no but all that did was to rub my nose and face in
Wes's crack. Besides, I was playing the game too, and I fucking loved it
and didn't want it to stop.


"Hold on, hold on," said Wes. And he stood up, and pointing down at me,
said "Don't you fuckin move."


He peeled his briefs off and in one of those rare moments I was allowed
to see his big dick hanging down below his thick pubes, and his balls
swinging between his big jock thighs. It took all my self-control not to
touch my dick, which was hard as rock in my jeans, and pointing up to my
navel.


Then the big athlete got back in position, pinning my arms against my
sides with his knees, his big cock and balls swinging between his legs,
and lowered his ass on my face again.


And now his bare ass was on my face and his balls on my chin, and he
rubbed his asshole in my nose and said "You like smelling that don't
you you fuckin queer. Smelling a MAN'S ass."


Jack kicked my legs open and repeated his question.


"Want it in the nuts, fag?" He put the sole of his sneaker against my
balls. "HUH?"


Again I tried to protest and again Wes muffled me, wiping his ass on my
face.


"The cocksucker said yes," Wes said.


Jack's sneaker smashed into my balls and I groaned and  tried to roll on
my side, but Wes held me immobile with his strong legs planted on my
sides, and his arms pinning me down as he leaned forward. And his sweaty
jock ass pressed my head against the floor, so that I was helpless to
resist his power.


And the three straight athletes laughed.


"You see there, fagot? You keep smelling a real MAN and that's what you
are gonna GIT," said Aggy.


But the ball game was heating up. The bases were loaded. So the three
bros went back to watch the game. Wes pulled the cut-off sweats back on
and they outlined the curve of his big cock. He put his sweaty smelly
briefs over my head like a hood. And they ordered me to lie in front of
the couch on my back. They sat on the couch and leaned back and used me
for their foot rest. Wes had one of his big smelly feet on my face and
the other on my chest. Aggy sat in the middle with his ankles crossed and
his heels on my stomach. And Jack put his sneakers on my dick and in my
balls.


"Rangers up by one."


"Motherfucker."


"C'mon now, swing and a miss? What the fuck? Hit the fuckin baseball,
moron."


They talked or yelled at the TV and argued with each other about balls
and strikes and cussed out the infield. All the time I could smell their
strong jock B.O. and Wes's dirty feet. And the smell of Wes's sweaty
briefs, and the smell and taste of Aggy's asshole. Every once in a while
Jack would bring the heel of one sneaker down on my nuts, and with the
other sneaker roughly rub my hardon in my jeans. And every time he did,
my cock pulsed and I ached to cum. And every once in a while one of the
star athletes would lean forward and spit on me, like he was sitting in a
dugout and spitting on the floor.


____________________________________


Hey bros! I hope you liked the story as told by my queer. (Cause I do
fucking OWN that boy and he fucking loves it)


Now, OK, I know you are thinking, are there more games you and your buds
can play with the queer? And maybe you have already thought of some! I
guess that just comes natural to us jocks haha.


We should get some geeky queer who knows computer shit to make a site
where jocks can leave messages and read about how other bros get together
and use their queer roommates for fun. We can  post pics. Like show your
sneaker marks on the queers jeans where you kicked him in the balls. Or
take a pic of the queer with your sweaty briefs on his head or your
smelly socks in his mouth. Just some ideas.


Keep those sharp eyes peeled for the next chapter on How to Use Your
Queer Roommate, bros. Til then


Stay hard!


Wes