Date: Tue, 2 Dec 2014 10:48:33 -0500
From: Hitch Bolen <hitchbolen@gmail.com>
Subject: Horny in the Dorms: Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

So, there I was sitting in my first day of Drawing 101 when I discovered
that we wold be drawing the nude. Othjer things of course as well, but
starting in a few weeks we'd be drawing from a live model, both male and
female, robed and not-so-robed. The prof was letting us know right away the
first day because he wanted us to spread the word on campus that he was
paying for fit, average build models, $10 an hour, and then he launched
into a long lecture on expectations, grading policies, etc.

My heart was racing, my mind wandering, and I was not listening any more. I
imagined drawing a sketch of Mark, or John, with their arms, legs, cocks,
asses, chests, armpits ... all on display for the whole class. The idea
entranced me, but then I wondered if it would excite the others in the
class as much as me. Maybe I didn't want to ask them to model so I could
keep those images to myself? I probably wouldn't ask Danny though, who was
probably a little too muscled for the prof's taste. He did say no
bodybuilder types.

I returned to the present when the class erupted in some loud, but nervous
laughter. I looked around to see if I could pick up the gist of what I'd
missed. Everyone was looking a little amused and scared at the same
time. "So, find a partner, and get started," the prof was saying just as I
leaned over to my neighbor to ask what was happening.

"Okay, we can be a team," were the words that practically dripped out of
the guy's lips sitting to my left. "I'm Skyler Washington, but everyone
calls me Sky." he was the color of dark chocolate, chiseled nose and full
dark cherry lips, with colorful beads and sparkles randomly threaded
throughout his long black dreadlocks. "Good to meet you," he said holding
out his right hand.

"Hitch." I said, taking his hand in as friendly shake I could. He smiled
back at me, and began shifting his drawing desk a little closer and facing
mine. "Can you tell me what we're supposed to be doing?" I leaned and
whispered in his ear. "I was sort of day dreaming just then, and I think I
missed all the instructions."

"Sure," Sky smiled again. "We're to give the prof a sense of our drawing
skills coming in to this class, so we're to spend the next hour sketching
our partner, and then he'll know what type of projects to start the
semester with to better address the deficiencies he finds."

"So you will be drawing me and I'll draw you at the same time?"

"Right." he answered as he got his paper fixed to the board and started
picking out and sharpening some pencils.

I did the same, but noticed I didn't have nearly as many drawing supplies
as Sky seemed to. He had a whole tackle box filled with dozens of new
pencils, various sticks of charcoal, some ink bottles and quills, and some
things I didn't even know what they were. The prof turned on a stereo
somewhere and classical music began to waft throughout the room.

"Let me know when you're done moving around so I can get a sense of what
pose you're doing." Sky asked politely. I nodded, and struck a posture for
drawing that I thought I could basically hold relatively steady, and began
to look at Skyler carefully, taking stock of what I'd need to include in
this composition. He was examining me too, with a trained artist's
eye. "You know if I'd known this was what we'd be doing, I'd have worn
something more stylish!" He commented rhetorically, beginning to make rough
sketch marks on his page. "Maybe something with stripes or a crazy African
pattern."

"I'm glad you're NOT wearing something harder to draw," I replied, noting
his simple black tank top and khaki cut offs were both easy to draw, but
revealed some of his long black sinewy arms and legs. His shoulder muscles
were flexing as he moved his arms across the page, drawing vigorously now.

I glanced down to see what I was wearing, and wondering if it was posing a
challenge to Sky to draw. I had assumed this would be a typical
first-day-of-class intro to the syllabus, so I hadn't prepared to get
dirty, but my red polo and gray cargo shorts looked simple enough. I
noticed then that Sky had tossed his flip flops under this chair, so his
long calves, ankles and feet caught my attention. His toenails were bright
white and pink against the dark skin, with just a hint of black hair.

We chatted quietly as we drew, as indeed others were doing, exchanging
tips, and introductions as the class got to know each other a little. Sky
revealed he was from the city, and in addition to the art classes he signed
up for, he was in the modern dance program.

As the class proceeded, the prof strolled slowly around the room, quietly
taking note of what he saw, occasionally speaking to the class, but mostly
just watching us draw. After an hour had passed, he announced, "I can see
rather a lot of you aren't really even close to being finished, but I have
another exercise to do for the next hour, so, figure out a time you can
meet up with your drawing partner to finish this drawing for me. I will
expect a stack on this table before I arrive in my office at 9:00 am
tomorrow. This will be your first grade of the semester, and we will be
comparing your drawing style and technique at the end of the semester as
part of your final critique."

For the next hour, we went through a series of exercises, each taking a
turn on the central raised platform striking a pose for the class to draw
in five seconds, then ten seconds, then finally twenty seconds. Drawings
were being ripped from the large pads and tossed on the floor every which
way. It was fabulously fun but I became more and more tired from the flurry
of activity. When the time was up, he reminded us of the deadlines, and
then retreated into his adjoining office with a few students who wanted to
ask questions.

I looked over at Sky, who was smiling back at me. We both had sweat on our
brow from our artsy "workout."

"That was some crazy shit!" he spat out, wiping his face with his tank top,
revealing his dark chocolate washboard abs and the waistband of some hot
pink boxers. I tried not to stare, but since his face was covered by the
tank, I saw the letters on the band repeated, "UG." Not sure what that was
about, so I filed that away for later: Google "UG."

We made arrangements to meet back after supper in the studio to finish. In
a flash he was gone.

I gathered up my things, and went straight to the restroom at the end of
the hall. I needed to wash my hands. When I saw my face in the mirror I saw
a sweaty mess, so I splashed some water in my face and dried myself with a
paper towel. I was trying to put my wet hair in some semblance of order
with my fingers when the bathroom door opened. Another art student swept
past me and into a toilet stall. The door closed, and from the looks of it,
the guy was sitting down. A second later, another guy rushed in, hands deep
in his pockets, and he went into the adjoining stall. I was ready to leave,
but the haste of these two guys was intriguing me, so I threw my paper
towel into the trashcan, and opened the door, but let it come to a close
without actually leaving the room.

I had a clear view of the fronts of the stalls, where as soon as a few
seconds had passed, the one guy's foot had slid over to tap against the
other guy's foot under the divider. Eager to know what was happening now, I
sat down on my haunches so I could get a better view of the feet under the
doors.  The first guy was making gestures to the other guy with his hands
and whispering rather loudly, "pass it over."

"Here," the other guy replied. He handed the first guy something. It
sounded like someone was sniffing deeply. To this day, I'm not sure what he
was snorting, but a deep sigh came from the stalls, followed quickly by the
shuffling of clothing and feet against the tile floor. His pants fell down
around his ankles, and then he was squatting down below the stall divider
and his erect cock was under the stall aimed up at the other guy. The
cocksucker started his work, but all I could see was the top of his head
bobbing around, clearly enjoying the mouthful of manhood. Sucking sounds
and slurping could clearly be heard, since I assume they thought they were
alone in the room.

The outer door began to open, and I stood up as fast as I could, almost
colliding into my art teacher entering the restroom. I slid past him, and
took a few deep breaths in the hallway, since I had been holding my breath
in the bathroom.

I went to the water fountain, and took a long drink. In a moment, the art
prof returned to the hall, and upon seeing me, he said, "Hello... Hitch
wasn't it?" He was wiping his hands on a paper towel still, but smiling in
a friendly way.

"Yes, that's right." I answered. I thought my voice sounded a little
strained. Inwardly I cringed.

"That was a good first class," he began, "I see real potential in this
class." And then he said a few more nice things about drawing, and
practice, etc. "You look really wet," he then said, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just rinsed my face and head since it was so hot ... do I look
that wet still?"

"Just a little. I'll see about adjusting the temp in the room for next
class. I think it was a little warm too."

I apologized, and ducked back into the bathroom to get another paper
towel. Upon entering the room, there was that awkward shuffling of feet
again. Not knowing what to, I took some paper towel, rubbed my face and
hair a little more. Then, pushing the door open and letting it close, I
went back to my spying post. As soon as the door was shut, the guys went
back to their under-the-stall sucking positions.

Guy 1 was still sucking on Guy 2's cock, but now they were both on their
knees. The quiet moaning I heard was making me really horny. I could almost
feel the sucking action myself! Then I realized I was stroking my cock
through my shorts.

In a few minutes, guy 2 started to exhibit signs of his impending climax, I
could see the tension and straining in his thigh muscles. He was thrusting
into the other's mouth now with full abandon, then he started to shake and
vibrate, and a low gasp escaped. Guy 1 rose, and I assumed, from the sound
of it, that he was spitting a mouthful of cum into the toilet. Guy 2 then
gestured back under the wall, and Guy 1 pushed his dick into the waiting
mouth. The process repeated, and now I was starting to wonder "What I
should do now?" If I left now, it would be obvious I had been there the
whole time. If I waited too long, one of them will come out and see me.

I decided to wait a little longer. When Guy 1 finally climaxed, with
somewhat more slurping but a lot less moaning, I pretended to be entering
the bathroom. I went to the urinal, whipped out my now very excited cock
and pretended to be pissing. With quite a lot of shuffling of clothes, Guy
1's stall opened and he quickly departed. I only got a glimpse of his back,
quickly tucking his shirt into his loose pants. The Guy 2's stall door
opened, and he casually walked across to the sink, giving me a thorough
examination all the while. I had leaned a little too far away from my
"business" at the urinal (since I was far too hard to really piss)
accidentally giving Guy 2 a clear view of my hardon.

I realized it, blushed and looked back to the wall, afraid it was too late.

"Having trouble there?" Guy 2 asked, with a sly smile. He was taller than
me by a few inches, dark haired, wearing nerdy glasses, but he had a really
handsome Clark Kent type face. He was wearing tight jeans, and a thin white
tee shirt that showed his tight wiry frame. He was washing his hands, and
even washing his chin, where some stickiness apparently remained.

I was holding my breath again, eyes closed hoping he'd just leave.

He walked over to the towel dispenser, and stood right behind me,
whispering, "You know, I saw your feet under the stall. I can see you
enjoyed the show." He then went across the small bathroom to the door, and
wedged a little rubber doorstop into the bottom of the door, completely
blocking it from opening. "Now we won't be interrupted," he said. In one
swift motion, he turned me to face him, went to his knees and took my whole
cock into his warm mouth.

"Oh, god!" I gasped as he gagged on my whole dick, his nose pressed against
my freshly shaved groin. He looked up at me, pulled my cock out took a deep
breath, and smiled big before going back down on me. He grabbed my balls
with one hand, then pulled my shaft out of his mouth, and stroked it with
his saliva in the other hand.

"Yeah, bro, fuck the hand," he commanded. Amazed at his skillful grip, and
the way it was exciting me, I complied, thrusting into his grip. He had
both hands forming a pussy, so I could slide all the way past both of his
palms, with his tongue at the end giving my knob a quick strong suck,
popping back out and then repeated several times. It felt amazing.

"That's it, dude, work it!" he demanded. Then he switched positions
slightly, grabbing my balls again, with one finger teasing my ass hole. The
sensation coming from my ass was altogether new, but I really liked it. I
was fucking his throat with one hand on the wall behind the urinal, and the
other behind his head when I felt his finger pop a few inches into my hole
and start massaging my insides. I had never felt that before, so I was
shocked, but in a good way, and in just a few more thrusts I felt I was
going to cum.

"Ahh, I'm gonna cummmm..." I warned him, moaning quietly. Instead of
pulling my dick out, he swallowed my whole cock, sucking and licking
vigorously, all the while continuing to rub my inner colon. I saw stars. I
started to cum. I was shaking and twitching uncontrollably with the most
intense orgasm in my life, wave after wave of heat rushed from my toes to
my head as he drained me dry.

He finally let go of my cock, and the slime of his mouth and my cum was
running down his face, but instead of wiping it away, he gathered it and
licked it and ate it. Every drop. "Yum!" he said with apparent approval.

I was still standing there with my shorts around my ankles, leaning on the
wall, my slightly deflated cock pointing out and leaking a little. I was a
little in shock I think. Time seemed to slow down. I saw his still-sticky
face coming closer and closer to mine. I felt his hot, wet lips, then my
mouth was forced open and his tongue was invading my mouth. I gasped as I
felt his stubbly chin against mine, and tasted my own cum on his breath.

Then there was a gust of cool air across my wet mouth and chin, the sound
of running water and paper towel ripping. The door opened and closed. He
was gone. I didn't even ask his name. I quickly tucked my cock back into my
pants, went to the sink and washed up. That's when I noticed a small scrap
of paper towel with the letters: "STSP--Harry."