|An Extra Year In The Dorm, Part 3
by Greg Scott
All the usual stuff about you must be old enough in your jurisdiction, etc. In other words, if you are underage, don't read this unless you have a really cool teacher who assigned it. Otherwise, come back in a few years, when nobody will yell at you.
------------------------------Brad Michaels moved into the athletes' dorm in the middle of August, along with all the new and returning fall sports players. I had been allowed to move my stuff in a week prior to that, so that I could sort of claim my space in the cramped room. I spent those last six nights of freedom sleeping on the couch in what was to have been my apartment with my buddies. That taste of absolute freedom made me regret my decision to return to the dorm to serve as Brad's mentor.
I met my new roommate on a memorable Monday. I was already a bit discouraged about finding myself back in the noisy dorm, but Brad seemed to make my regret even greater.
He reminded me of Tigger from the "Winnie The Pooh" books that my parents used to read to me. He was full of energy and seemed to be determined to impress with his desire to please me. It all was forced and, I thought, immature.
As he unpacked his things, every move was preceded by, "Is it okay if I...?" You can fill in the blank with practically anything you can think of. "Is it okay if I put my underwear in this drawer?" "Is it okay if I put this dictionary on my desk?" "Is it okay if I take a break to go to the bathroom?"
Okay, he didn't really say that last one, but you get the idea. He was too deferential with me. He was more like a servant or even a little brother than a roommate.
However, I realized that what bothered me most about my new ward was that he was hot. I mean this guy had all the attributes that I find sexy in a guy. His complexion was as dark and perfect as Juan's. He was about the same size as my former boyfriend, too. A little shorter than I am, he appeared to have a tightly packed compact body under his loose t-shirt and shorts. The most striking superficial difference between Brad and Juan was that Juan had deep brown eyes complimenting his hair and skin. Brad's eyes, on the other hand, were a pale blue unlike any shade that I had ever seen. The contrast with his dark hair and skin was striking. I had to force myself to look away from them.
I certainly did not want to think of this kid in a sexual way, but his similarity to my first love, Juan, coupled with those magnetic eyes inspired an unwanted lust deep within me. My almost instant desire repelled me and counter-acted the sense of responsibility that I had intended to garner for this guy.
"Is it okay if I go get lunch?" he asked.
"Sure. Do what you want."
"Do you want to come along?" he asked hopefully.
"No thanks," I replied. "I'm meeting a couple friends at a restaurant in an hour."
"Oh," he said, disappointed as he closed the door behind him.
I looked around the room at the things that Brad had already unpacked. I noticed a poster rolled up on his desk. I unrolled it enough to recognize it as the same poster of David Beckham from his European playing days that Juan had in his room.
Yet another reminder of Juan made me recall our early days together less than two years before. It was a time of great self-awareness, probably my greatest period of emotional growth in my life so far.
That lunch in the nearly empty Mexican restaurant was just the first of many times we spent together over the next few weeks. We had other lunches during winter break and weekends once school resumed, went to movies and even bowling. Sometimes we would go out with groups of friends; other times it would be only the two of us. When we found ourselves alone our hands would find each other and casually interlock. Once we held hands during most of a movie, even though our friends were seated on both sides of us. I don't know if anyone noticed, but nobody said anything to either of us.
My first time in Juan's room came about a month after that initial lunch. I made some teasing remark about the Beckham poster featured on the ceiling above Juan's bed.
"Yeah, it comes in handy," he grinned in reply.
"Well, you do have good taste in men," I said.
"You should have known that when I chose you," he winked.
I think that was the first either of us had actually spoken of our growing affection for each other. We leaned in for our first kiss, at once tender and urgent. I wrapped my arms around Juan and felt his back muscles. He gently rubbed circles across my chest through my shirt. I opened my eyes after a while and got lost in his dark eyes. I truly felt that I could see inside him.
Our kissing stage, as I later thought of the period, lasted another couple weeks. We went a bit farther during each of our make out sessions until we found ourselves rubbing the other's cock through the rough fabric of our denim pants. Somehow we stopped even then. I guess we were both waiting for a time when we could be together without any fear of interruption.
Early in March, the weather forecast called for an unseasonably warm weekend. Juan invited me to go camping, and I knew that the time had come to take this whole thing to the next level.
My boyfriend was a more seasoned camper than I. He told me what to do each step of setting up the tent and organizing the site. Even for a short adventure like ours it was more work than I had anticipated, but I was confident that the effort would be worth it.
It was getting dark by the time we finished the sandwiches that served as our dinner. Although it could be considered warm for that time of year, I felt myself getting cold. I'm sure we would have zipped our sleeping bags together no matter the temperature, but now there would be the added bonus of actually needing each other's body heat to stay warm enough.
Juan had brought along two large blankets that we had planned to put under the sleeping bags to serve as extra cushioning. Instead, we placed them on top of the bags to help us stay a bit warmer through the chilly night.
"The best way to stay warm," Juan began, "Is to take off all your clothes and put them in the bottom of the bag. That way you'll have warm clothing to put on in the morning."
"You don't have to lie to me," I teased.
"No, it's really true," he insisted.
I had fantasized that we would slowly undress each other. Given the cold, though, we both ripped off our clothing as quickly as possible, shoved it all into the combined bag and quickly slid into our cozy bags with only our heads exposed. We instinctively snuggled face to face for warmth more than out of a sense of lust.
We warmed more quickly than I would have guessed. Juan brought a hand from around my back and touched my lip with his index finger. He traced my mouth with the lightest touch imaginable.
"You have such soft lips," he told me.
"Hmmm," I uttered, amazed at how sensual such a simple act could be.
I was aware of the hardness of our cocks pressing against the abdomen of the other. Hearing he compliment I purposefully flexed my rod and felt it pushing against him. He did the same to me in unspoken reply.
I moved my hand downward between us. I brushed against his scrotum, feeling its soft wrinkles and warmth. I noticed that he had much more hair on his balls than I did. I cupped them softly and felt their warmth against my palm.
Juan began a kiss that lasted through many of our next explorations of the other's body. He pressed my head against his so as to not lose the contact of the kiss. His other hand fought its way down between our bodies to rub my nipples with almost no pressure at all. It tickled me in the most wonderful way.
I brought my other hand into play, grasping his hard penis. Of course I had seen his cock countless times in the locker room shower after practice or a soccer game. I had felt it through his jeans as he had mine during some of our many hours of kissing. Still, I was surprised by its girth. He was much thicker than I had realized, much thicker than my longer cock and considerably thicker than the only other cock I had ever felt, Adam's.
Recognizing its thickness had no real impact on me. I would have loved it regardless of its dimensions. It's just that I found it interesting. I was beginning to understand, without consciously thinking about it at that time, that every penis has its own unique characteristics. During my freshman and sophomore years at college, I continued to prove my theory of penis diversity, although my observations during high school were limited to the two others that I had by now already assessed.
Feeling Juan's cock respond to my touch helped me realize what I wanted to do as soon as possible, but I was unsure of the logistics of such a maneuver in the tight quarters of the double sleeping bag. I was sure that it was physically impossible to wrap my mouth around his rod under these circumstances.
By now, Juan's downward hand movements had reached their destination of my own cock. He circled it with his soft fingers and began the instinctive stroking movements that all guys seem to know from birth.
"Unzip the bag," he instructed.
I released my grip on him to reach across him to accomplish the task. Success required both hands. I held the material steady with one while urging the zipper downward with the other. That put my underarm directly over his face. Juan took the opportunity to reach out with his tongue and lick the now sweaty hair and skin.
It was something that I had never felt, and I was surprised to realize that it was quite a pleasant sensation. It must have been good for my friend as well, for he quickly dove in closer in order to truly feast on my perspiration. I heard him inhale deeply. For a moment I thought I might cum just from that unusual stimulation added to my already aroused state.
Feeling the air on his back let Juan know that I had been successful in my unzipping mission. He move backwards and started to edge his head down in the direction of my midsection. I tried to do the same, but that obviously wasn't going to work.
"Me first," I insisted, since I was already afraid that I was too close to my climax.
He slid upward a bit while I moved down. I felt my chin bump the tip of his cock in the darkness. I used my hand to grasp it again, holding it in place as I began to lick all around it. I tasted the sweetness of what I knew must be precum on his tip. I was elated to learn that he was apparently nearly as aroused as I.
After thoroughly wetting him with my tongue, I took him into my mouth, applying the few techniques that I had learned from my single experience with Adam, my former friend. I must have done reasonably well, because I felt Juan's fingernails dig into the skin of my back.
As I worked my mouth around his thick cock I began to realize just how much my feelings for Juan had grown during our unusually slow courtship. Somehow, I recognized how much more thoroughly I enjoyed this experience compared to what I felt doing ostensibly the same thing to Adam. Taking his cum inside me became my most important goal in life. I wanted it in part to make him feel good, but just as much I felt as if I needed it to feel complete within myself.
But that was a gratification that would be postponed as Juan pushed me away from his cock.
"I'm getting too close," he said. "My turn, now."
We traded roles skillfully without the clumsiness of our first efforts on our makeshift bed. One rehearsal had been sufficient for us to become masters of our lustful advances. I slid upward effortlessly, while he moved down to worship my own cock.
There had been times during our earlier weeks together when my tongue exploring his mouth seemed like the sexiest thing that could ever happen to me. Now I learned how that same mouth could provide such amazing pleasure to another part of my body. I sensed that he was exploring my rod with the same urgent goal that I had in my mind just moments before with him.
He wanted my cock. More precisely, he obviously wanted the juices that would soon pour from it. Realizing that brought me to the brink of ejaculation, but I managed to fight it off as I pulled him off.
"Let me do it," he said. "I want to taste you so much."
"I know," I said. "But I'm selfish, and I want you first."
He was reluctant to comply, but we again switched positions.
Instead of moving directly to his anxious dick, this time I moved lower and lapped his balls with my tongue. They had become sweaty in the confines of the sleeping bag, and I learned the joy that he must have felt licking my underarm sweat. There was something special about the intimacy of drinking the sweat of this dear friend.
Once there was no more perspiration remaining, I moved again to his cock. I consciously applied what I considered to be my best techniques to his dick, pressing the head against the back of my mouth while sucking very gently as I came up for the next oral stroke.
After only five or six such movements, I felt his cock engorge even more, signaling his impending ejaculation. His nails dug more deeply into my back as his wonderful dick went off in my mouth. I savored his gift to me, and I added a new part to my theory. Not only are all cocks unique, I now believed, but all jizz has its own special flavor.
Juan's cum slowed to what seemed more like overflows than shots, and I was able to savor his taste fully. I'm not sure whether it was the flavor or just the fact that it had come from Juan, but I treasured every drop. I swallowed with regret only when it became necessary.
When I finally came up for air, Juan greeted me with a deep kiss that lasted at least half a minute. It was not only a kiss of gratitude, but it also seemed to be one in which he hungered for the taste of his own cum, which his tongue sought in my mouth.
That seemed to be all the recovery period that Juan needed. As soon as the kiss ended, he moved under the part of the sleeping bag that was still covering me. He began where I had, with the scrotum. He voraciously licked my own sweaty balls until he had thoroughly removed it all.
What came next surprised me and, I would learn, surprised him too. Instead of moving from my balls to my cock, as I had done with him, he moved lower. His tongue danced across the area below my balls. Of course I moaned at that action on such a sensitive spot. The surprising part, though, was that he went lower still.
Juan actually started licking across my hole, stroking it firmly.
"Oh my god," I whispered. "I've never even imagined anything could feel like that."
"Hmmmm," he replied. Then he backed off long enough to say, "I have never even thought about doing this before. You have some weird effect on me."
I took his words as the ultimate compliment and allowed myself to become enveloped by the feelings of ecstasy. With each lick his tongue pressed harder, and as his strokes across my most private of areas became more firm my pleasure increased.
I couldn't resist the urge to stroke my cock in rhythm to his tongue lashing. I don't think that I actually realized that I was jacking off until I felt my cum rising. At that moment, he pushed his tongue so that actually entered my hole just a bit. That was more than I could take.
"I'm cumming!" I announced to everyone who might be in the same forest as our tent.
Juan quickly abandoned my butt as my first volley hit me in the chin. He pulled my cock fully into his mouth with his suction, and I had an orgasm that seemed to go on longer than any I had ever experienced, depositing the rest of my load into his hungry mouth. My entire body was shaking, and I was aware that my upper body thrashed back and forth on the bottom of the sleeping bag.
Once it was clear that I had finished, he withdrew from my dick to come up to my face. He hovered there.
"Open your mouth," he instructed using care to not lose any of my valued cum.
He held his head about six inches above mine. Then he began to open his mouth slightly so that my cum, mixed with his spit dropped into my awaiting mouth. It might have seemed disgusting to anyone watching, but it didn't feel that way at all. It felt like a shared gift.
Before coming down for a final kiss of the night, Juan licked the cum off my chin that he had missed at the start of my climax. That ended our sexual adventures on the first night of our camping trip, but it did not end the intimacy as we drifted to sleep in the embrace of the other.
My memories were interrupted by my new roommate returning from his lunch. As the door opened I realized that my hand was down my shorts playing with my cock, made very hard and all too visible by my recollections. I jerked my hand back into view, but I'm sure that I had been caught.
Brad looked away from me quickly as he said, "I thought you were going to lunch."
I glanced at my watch.
"Oh, I'm late!" I exclaimed.
I'm sure that I caught Brad take a furtive look at my cock as I stood to hurry out of the room.
"See you later," I called over my shoulder as I closed the door behind me, relieved to hide my excited state from my new roommate.
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