The JCR bar put out its empties on this side of the quad. He rolled an empty beer barrel from the stack, to a spot right underneath a high window in Staircase IX. He stood up on the barrel, and eased himself up to peer in the window.
Sure as Oriel was Head of the River, he saw what he was looking for.
Damien smiled.
He was looking into the ground-floor loo in Staircase IX. There, for all his gaze to delight in, was Kevin, the handsome blond first-year he'd humiliated in the quad. His khaki shorts were down around his ankles. His t-shirt was pulled up over head to expose his smooth tanned chest and belly. He was wearing clean white boxer shorts, and his seven inches of pure hard boycock was sticking out of the fly, held in the firm grip of his right hand. The boy was wanking for all he was worth. He was wanking like he was in love with his right hand. He was wanking with all the pent-up lust of an eighteen year-old boy on heat.
Damien smiled and let his hands wander casually down to his own crotch. The young boy was beautiful, and what he was doing while playing with himself was a real turn-on. Damien massaged his crotch through his shorts as he watched the show.
The lad had his young eyes closed, his head thrown back, the lovely young muscles in his neck standing out as he clenched his teeth and slid his hand up and down his erection. The skin on his cock-head was so tight it could have burst. His shaft was covered in the shining juice that had already leaked from his teenage tool. He groaned deep in his throat. Noises, animal gruntings, and some muffled inarticulate words:
"Mnmnn! Unmnnnph! Dam...Damien! Yeagh! Umnmnph! C'mon, Damien, stud, ugh, make me do it! Yeagh! Ughghg! Damien! Damien!"
Damien smirked. But he adjusted his hardening cock in his shorts, to let the head of it rest between the waistband of his shorts and his hard tight belly. He licked his lips as he watched the first-year beating his meat. "All for me! All for Damsie! Good boy! Good little boy!"
The younger lad's breath was coming in short spasms, his legs were going weak, his abs had tightened up, his balls were contracting into his fit young teenage body. With a final slick jerk of his finger and thumb, he released his aching cock, arched his back, and let his orgasm tear though his young body. Shock after shock of pleasure and release seared though him, from his blond head to the muscles of his calves. And he shot.
"Damieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen!! Uaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghghg!"
He shot his pent-up wad like only a teenager can! Hot spurts of cum leapt up from his stiff pole to splatter on his smooth chest, on his chin, in his eyelashes and in his blond hair.
What dribbled and pumped after his geyser had spurted splattered on his thighs and calves, wetting his boxers, and japping with gobs of thick white jissom his shorts around his ankles.
Damien was hard as a rock watching this private show. With one hand he steadied himself to peer into the window, while the other was down his shorts, stroking the length of his hard boy cock. "Yeah, this little fella is a goer!" Damien knew he was gonna see this boy again!
The lad was spent. He pulled up his shorts. But as he did so, he scooped up the gobs of jizz from his leather belt, letting it stick to his two fingers like jam, and then licked it off his own fingers. "Oh Damien, nmnnph: make me eat your cum!" he sighed, and continued slowly to scoop up what remained of his own jissom off his body, and suck it off his fingers, savouring the taste - the taste, he fantasized, of Damien.
Damien hopped down from his vantage point on the barrel, nursing a raging hard-on in his shorts. Fuck, that little guy was sexy! No time for that though: he had to go down the bar to meet his mates and explain to them that he had to go to this reception in the Warden's Garden tonight and couldn't come out on the piss with them as he'd planned to do. The lads would be upset; Damien was always the life and soul of any good night on the town. But he was keen to meet up with all the thespy types he hadn't really spoken to since he did Mr Sloane last year.
"Hey, Damsie, come and meet Adam," called Sarah.
Damien walked over to their table. His hard-on, which had nearly subsided, was beginning to rage again as he stared at the fit young stud sat between Sarah and Shane.
"G'day, Damien," came Shane, "This is Adam, Adam Rickitt, he's our guest-star this year for the Garden Shakespeare."
"Hi, mate. Great to have you in college. When's the first night?" asked Damien, almost at a loss (and that's NOT like Damien) for things to say, so gobsmacked was he by this young man's looks.
"Saturday night; if the weather holds," said the young blond hunk, with a trace of a Northern accent.
"You coming along to the Warden's Garden, later?" Sarah this time, trying to get a word in edge-wise between Adam Rickitt and the entranced stare of young Damien, hooked on the blond star.
"Eh.....yeah. Yeah." Damien came to, turning to Sarah. He was beginning to regain his composure. "I'll sure be there!"
"Adam, I'm sorry, this is Damien. He was our Mr Slaone last year in the Orton play, and turned out to be a real star in his first rôle." Damien would have blushed if he'd been anyone other than Damien, as Sarah complimented him. As it was, his chest swelled, and he flashed Adam one of his smiles.
"Yeah? I seen that play on TV once. Beryl Reid and folks in it. The young guy was pretty good. I can just imagine you in that part, Damien," Adam laughed, and smiling, laid back in the settle against the wall of the bar.
"Fuck!" thought Damien, "This guy's smile is enough to make you fucking cream in your boxers!"
"You wanna drink, Adam, I'm gettin for me?"
"Yeah, mate, I'll have another Pimms. Cheers, mate." The young blond put his icey glass of Pimms on the table and gave Damien a grin that could have saved the Titanic. Damien felt his cock become even stiffer in his shorts, and went to the bar. "Fucking Pimms - he drinks fucking Pimms - but he is one hot spunker." As he waited for the student barman to fix his order, Damien, so secretly that no-one noticed, gently rubbed himself up against the bar, making his hard-on twitch and pleasure him as he rubbed his stiffness against the firm wooden slats. Damien was seriously on heat.
When he came back with the drinks, Sarah had gone to chat with some mates at another table. Her place beside Adam was empty, so Damien took it without asking. As he sat down beside this stud, Damien had a quick look at what was below the table. Adam was wearing faded blue Levis; nice and tight where it mattered, real easy elsewhere. His crotch looked full and soft, and the denim was threadbare and pale where his packet rested. Was this guy a lad, or what? Adam was wearing black DM boots, and, Damien could just make out, white cotton socks.
Adam, Shane, and Damien chatted for about half an hour in the bar. Damien could not believe his luck; to have been sat beside this young star. He was close enough to feel the warmth of Adam's body. To see the fine blond hairs on the lad's arm. To see the taughtness of his t-shirt where his muscle stretched the cotton. To see the nape of his neck, where his hairline ended and his tanned smooth skin began. This lad would be the subject of Damien's wanking fantasies for weeks to come.
In fact, he was beginning to enjoy Adam's company right now. As Shane and Rickitt chatted, Damien let his right hand slip under the table and rest on the crotch of his boxers. He massaged his cock and balls while looking at Adam right in the flesh. Fuck, this was hot! He'd done this before when down the bar with some sexy guy from another college, or beside some new fresher who turned him on. But this was Adam Rickitt - a TV star - and, more importantly, the most fantastically sexy twenty year old Damien had ever laid eyes on. Just looking at Adam was a wank-fest.
"You like that?" said Adam, nodding his head to the glass of Pimms.
But Damien knew what he meant.
"Yeah, mate - I'm not usually into that kind of thing - not my scene, you know - but once in a while a bit of a change does ya good"
Adam knew that Damien was not talking about the Pimms either.
"You chaps had better get yourselves ready for the reception." Sarah came back, announcing that the time was near for yet more Pimms in the Warden's Garden.
"I'll just go back to my guestroom, get a shower, and grab some other clothes," said Rickitt getting up from the table.
"Uh.... I can't remember my way back to Founder's Quad. Can you show me, Damien? I'm in Founder's III.4"
"Sure, mate."
In Founder's staircase III, room 4 was on the first floor. Damien let Adam go ahead, and watched, with an ache in his cock like he'd never known, the ass of the young star cradled in the soft worn denim of his jeans, as he strode up the stairs. How he wanted to reach out his hands and touch that ass through the beat-up denim of the lad's Levis!
"You wanna come in?" Adam asked, turning round, wiping the long blond hair from his beautiful eyes, and smiling cockily at Damien.
"Yeah, mate, OK."
Adam let Damien follow him into the room. Damien closed the door carefully behind him, and turned round to gulp and catch his breath. Adam was so eager to get under the shower, to cool off from the scorching heat of the day, that he was beginning to peel of his t-shirt off right there and then.
"Fuck, mate, it's hot!" smiled the star at Damien, as with one motion he pulled the white cotton t-shirt off over his head, pausing, so Damien thought, for just one moment with his head covered, his pecs flexed, and his arms outstretched, so Damien could feast his eyes on the most beautiful male torso he'd ever seen. Adam had peeled off his t-shirt, and was standing in the middle of the Fellows' guest room, framed by the gothic trefoil window, the sunlight streaming through the glass, in nothing but his hugging Levis and black DM boots. Damien's mouth hung open. Involuntarily he put his hands on his crotch, easing the position of his swollen cock which was begging, begging, to find release with the young man who stood in front of him.
Adam's body was simply perfect. Better than any model's or actor's or even any porn-stars. Every muscle well defined, every inch of skin smooth and lightly tanned. And his cute boyish face, and long straight blond hair, set off the picture to perfection. Adam was a fine young sex-god of the pantheon of the stars.
"What you fuckin' lookin' at, mate?"
"Uh. Uh......" Damien, for the first time in his twenty years, was speechless. Then he caught himself on. He removed his hands from his aching crotch:
"Nothin', mate, just wondering how a guy like you, who acts all day, is in such a fit state. You work out?"
"Yeah. Every day. You're not bad yourself Damien. You play football for the college, don't you. I noticed your Umbros when you came into the bar. You got a good body ?"
"Yeah, pretty alright. I play footy for the college seconds, and row for the men's thirds. I've had no complaints about my body, if you know what I mean!"
"Let's have a look then, Damien."
Damien had regained his cocky London-lad confidence. With a sweep he pulled his Man United top off over his head, tousling his schoolboy hair, and let the shirt drop to the floor of the guest room. His fit hard young torso was shown off well by his red shorts, his piercing blue eyes, and his mop of dirty-fair hair.
"Wey-ey! Not bad for a smart-alec college-boy!" cheered Adam Rickitt at the fit young undergraduate.
Adam approached Damien. He stood so close to him that Damien could feel the heat of Adam's body on his own. Adam put out his land and let it rest, palm extended, on Damien's firm belly.
"One, two, three....four, five, six" Adam counted the defined muscles by prodding his fingers into Damien's abdomen, "That's what I call a six-pack!" He smiled, rubbing his hand over the taught flesh he'd just prodded.
Damien had a raging hard-on now. His Umbros were like a bloody circus tent! He couldn't adjust himself with Adam standing right there. Fucking hell! This Rickitt guy was one bloody fine stud, and a fucking tease on top of it all. Every time Adam touched his naked flesh, Damien flinched and felt his hard young tool throb in his football shorts. Those shorts now displayed a wet patch as Damien's ever-eager cock was leaking pre-cum like he was leaking lust.
"Not bad pec-def either," said Adam, running his hand now up over Damien's chest.
"Yeah. Uh...That's from the rowing, I s'pose." Damien's breath was not as steady as he wanted it to be. He turned his head and looked at the young actor in the face. One boy's handsome face staring right into the good-looks of the other.
"You want it, Damien, don't you?"
But Damien was too stunned even to reply.
"You fucking want it, Damien, don't you?"
"What the fuck are you talking about, mate?"
"I'm talking about this!" said Rickitt, at last letting his hand drop and rub over Damien's erection through the nylon of his Umbros.
"Ugh!" Damien winced with the sudden thrill of pleasure the lad's hand induced in his hard tool.
"The girls in the college told me all about you. You're a fucking horny little bastard, Damien. You fuck anything. You go like a fucking bunny-rabbit, don't you, you horny little cunt?"
"You don't know what you're messing with, mate! I'm the fucking college stud around here. I can have as much bloody sex as I want from any boy or girl in this college. They're begging for me; they're gagging for it; and I can take what I pick."
With that, Damien turned to face Adam Rickitt, cupped one hand around the young actor's neck, placed his other hand on the lad's taught six-pack belly, and, taking control, started sliding it towards the waistbands of Adam's jeans, as he pulled Adam's head closer to his mouth.
With one swift motion, Adam jerked Damien's eager hands away.
"If you want it, you gotta BEG for it, college-boy," he taunted. " On your knees!" Adam looked at the young undergraduate with a smug sneer on his face. Damien was overcome with lust. He'd never been treated this way sexually. Adam's commands gave a him a feeling deep in the pit of his stomach sexier than he had ever know. He wanted to be ordered to worship the blond hunk in front of him. He wanted to be ordered to a thousand orgasms.
Damien dropped to his knees on the carpet in front of Adam.
"Now, what was it you wanted?", said Adam with a smirk, rubbing his two hands over the stiffness in his Levis. He flexed the muscles in his arms and broad shoulders, and in his abs, as he played with his package, and made sexy slurping sounds with his mouth all pouted.
"Please, Adam, can I suck your cock?" mumbled the undergraduate. Damien was humiliated, beaten, but enflamed with a lust-crazed heat he'd never know before.
"Speak up, boy!" Rickitt ordered the lad at his feet.
"PLEASE, ADAM, CAN I SUCK YOUR COCK?!" Damien almost cried in his lust and shame.
"Not until you kiss my feet, Damien."
The college lad gulped, and his heart fell in his chest. He knew he had to go through with this. Adam Rickitt spread his legs, and stood "at ease" in front of the twenty year-old lad. Adam was naked to the waist and looked for all the world like a young porn star or a stripper-boy. His chest was perfectly defined. His eight-pack abs rippled as he tensed his midriff. His skin was smooth and the colour of honey. He nipples like two tiny buds needing to be tended. His Levis hugged him tight about the ass, and cradled the riches of his crotch in denim faded, bleached and worn by rubbing and massaging his cock and balls all though his teenage years. His brushed his long blond hair back from his handsome face.
"I said - not until you've kissed my feet - Damsie boy."
Damien awoke from his dazed stare at Adam's torso. He knew he had to do it. He bent down, placing his hands on the floor on either side of Adam's feet. He lowered his head to the ground, his dirty-blond locks falling in front of his piercing blue eyes. He extended his young neck, and kissed the toe of Adam's left Doc Marten.
"That's a good boy. Now, that's not so hard, is it?" Adam was reveling in his control over this handsome young lad kneeling before him. "Now the other foot."
The young footballer kissed the toe of Adam's right boot and made a slight moaning noise deep in his chest. He was in pure lust with this young sex-god. He'd never felt pure and unadulterated lust like this before. It overpowered him. He had no control any more. All his actions were dictated by the swollen eight inches of his boyhood. His head was swimming; his whole body aching through his erection.
He did as the sex-god young actor told him. He kissed Adam's right boot. And nearly creamed his load with the raw excitement of being made the sex-slave of the nations most crazed-after piece of male flesh.
"Agh, Adam. Please!" he muttered under his breath.
"What was that? You said 'please'? Say it again, as you kiss my socks!"
The young college boy was lost to shame and pure lust. He tugged up the leg of Adam's jeans. He started licking the fine blond hairs of Adam's legs, licking the white cotton of his socks. "Please, Adam! Please!"
Adam Rickitt leant his head back, tossing his long blond hair out of his beautiful eyes, and rubbed his hands over the tight bulge in his Levis. If it hadn't been for the thin worn denim in the way, he would be standing masturbating while a college boy, his own age, knelt at his feet and licked the cotton of his socks like a slave-boy praying not to be beaten. Adam loved the feel of this young lad's warm mouth on his calves and ankles, the boy's tongue wetting the hairs on his legs and the cotton of his socks.
"Well, done, college-boy: you've earned your prize. Stand up, now." Adam did not know when to stop.
Damien stood up. Adam noticed Damien's Umbro shorts, their fit and the insane way they were tenting and damp with the lad's lust. The footballer's cock had been leaking into the silky red fabric that held his beautiful boycock from view. Adam slowly, deliberately, and with the skill of a strip-tease boy, began to undo the buttons of his Levis. The first button revealing the waistband of his white CK boxers. The second the taughtness of the fabric as the head of the young actor's cock begged for release. The third, the outline of the thick shaft of his nine inches of studmeat pulsing thought the pure white cotton of his boxers. Then it was done; with a wriggle of his sexy young hips, Adam let his Levi's fall about his ankles. He massaged his hard iron rod through his shorts like Marky Mark on heat. He moaned and writhed as he pleasured himself in this way in front of the hungry young undergraduate. Damien was dazed with lust, and stared at Adam's crotch and his muscled legs covered in fine blond hair. The lad went to take touch Adam's hardness, but Adam suddenly pulled back out of his reach.
"You gotta suck my cock, before you get to touch anything with those dirty hands of yours, boy!"
Adam stepped away from the kneeling student. He sat down on the four-poster bed, brought one foot to his knee, and pulled off his right DM boot. He pulled the other off with a hard stare at the trembling student on the floor in front of him.
Adam stood up, with a kick of his heels stepped out of his jeans, and walked back over to Damien; strutting his stuff and teasing the boy; in nothing but white socks, Cks, and a shit-eating grin on his stunningly handsome face. He swept his blond hair out of his beautiful eyes with one flick of his hand. He strode up to Damien, who was kneeling like a soldier in the street, and placed his two hands on the lad's head, letting his fingers run deep through Damien's tousled hair. Controlling the lad's head in this way, Adam Rickitt began the performance of his young life.
He pushed his hips and ground his crotch into Damien's handsome face. He didn't for a moment let the college boy back away. Gaining rhythm and softly moaning to himself, he was using Damien's face to hump off against, like a dog on heat using his master's leg.
"Umm. Umm. Um. Yeah! You like that, Damien?"