Date: Mon, 17 Jul 2017 16:58:12 -0400
From: hitch bolen <hitchbolen@gmail.com>
Subject: Horny in the Dorms Chapter 31

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Horny in the Dorms

Chapter 31


Richie's footsteps could be heard running upstairs to the gymnasium, and
from just over my shoulder a throat-clearing, "Ahem, excuse me." Startled,
I step back from the sink, seeing that another school's wrestler had
stepped out of the shower and was trying to get to the sink.

"Sorry," I almost whispered as I got a better look: he had no towel, and
was still dripping wet, holding just a bottle of shower gel and a small
plastic razor. I stepped into the toilet stall to let him pass, and as I
steadied myself against the frame of the door, I felt Richie's spooge
squish between my fingers and the metal. Glancing over my shoulder I saw
that there were still great globs of cum dripping down the mirror.

I stepped further into the stall, and closed the door. My mind was
racing. "Did the guy even notice? Did he care?" I thought to myself. I sat
on the toilet, and peeked through the crack in the doorway and could
clearly see the guy beginning to lather up for a shave. He was a little
shorter than me, jet black hair evenly cropped to less than an inch, his
back was thickly muscled, his muscles smoothly rippling as he got the
shower gel worked into a lather and rubbed it onto his face, jaw and neck.

I got the impression that he was the kind of guy whose beard grew really
fast and bristly, and probably needed to shave twice a day to keep
smooth. it's generally good form to have a smooth face when wrestling, as
some beard can be extremely abrasive and painful to have rubbing on yourn
bare skin in a match.

His skin was olive brown and it seemed he had almost an all-over tan, only
the slightest lightening of the skin on his ass, which was just a foot or
so from the crack in the doorway, and I had a great view of his ass, smooth
and firm with just the right amount of jiggle as he shaved. Water droplets
ran down from his broad shoulders, down the channel of muscle on his spine,
and into the crack between his cheeks.  I was getting turned on, and pushed
a hand into my shorts, where I felt myself begin to harden.

He paused in his shaving to run the razor under some water, and one hand
scratched his ass cheek lazily. I saw his glance up at the mirror, and
seemingly just noticing the cum now obscuring his view. His free hand
swiped across the largest glob that ran down eight or ten inches, smearing
it into his palm -- then he brought his hand down to his backside and
spreading his legs apart slightly, wiped the handful of cum into his crack
and across his hole! His fingers teasing round the rim of his tight little
hairless hole.

I must have gasped a little louder than I planned, because just then, I saw
that he could see me watching him just as clearly as I could see him
through the crack in the stall door. I could only see part of his face in
the mirror, but he was smiling, obviously enjoying being watched, and then
he pushed his junk down between his legs and spread them to show me from
behind how he was becoming aroused.

He backed up so that he was now leaning against the door of my stall, but I
hadn't latched it, just pushed it closed, so it yielded and I fell back
against the toilet seat, both hands against the walls to steady myself, and
now there was a hunky, wet, naked wrestler sitting on my hard cock. My
shorts and tee shirt now wet.

"Whoah!" he exclaimed as he came to rest, and then, "thanks for leaving a
little lube on the mirror for me."

"Ahh ... I didn't ... it wasn't mine ..." I fumbled as he got up and turned
around, sitting back down, facing me now, his wet legs spread apart and his
short, but fat cock poking me in the ribs. "Uh ... but you're welcome!" I
decided to go with it, so I smiled and looked up at him, then nuzzled my
face into his smooth chest, nibbling on his tiny pointed nipples.

I reached up and felt his freshly shaved face, smoothing away some of the
stray streaks of lather, and felt my now achingly erect penis begging to be
released from my shorts. He rose slightly so I could slide my shorts down,
and immediately my cock bounced straight up to where it was throbbing
against his cum-lubed ass. He spit a glob of his saliva onto my dick, and
in one smooth motion slipped my cock into his warm hole.

"Are you sure you can...?" I mumbled, assuming he wouldn't want to go balls
deeps right away, but he didn't hesitate, and then he was sitting flat
against my thighs, with a look of wonder across his face.

"Well, I don't think I've ever felt this full before!" he exclaimed as he
began to rise and fall slowly at first, but then his strong upper thigh
muscles worked to lift his weight and let it drop again, pumping my
stationery cock into his ass. I tore off my wet shirt, and let it fall to
the tiled floor beside the toilet.

I grabbed his back with both arms, pulled his body tightly against mine,
and we fucked like that for a while. His wet cock slipped between our
bodies, and he rode me like a bull. The warm wet sensation of his thickly
muscled body sliding against my entire rigid dick was a new experience. I
was excited about it, and nervous about being discovered in a very
compromising position.

I took his dick in both hands and pumped him to match the speed of his hips
rising and falling on my lap, and that made him squirm! "Oohh... yeah, hold
it tighter..." he gasped. "Bite my titties again..." So I did. And in a few
more strokes, his whole body tensed, his balls tightened, and with a
whoosh, his cock erupted up my front, spraying his spunk on my chin, neck
and chest. At least ten long squirts of thick white cum.

When he stopped humping and twitching uncontrollably, he rose slowly my
cock slipping from his hole with a wet pop. He backed up, smiled, and
stepped out of the toilet stall. "Holy Fuck! That was what I needed, but I
gotta get into my gear." was all he said.

I stayed there on the toilet, my cock still unsatisfied. I heard the shower
turning on briefly, then some quiet humming as I imagined him drying off
and getting into his singlet and wrestling shoes. It became eerily quiet as
he left the locker room and dashed upstairs for his match.The only other
sounds were the distant rumbles of the wrestlers and the crowds in the
gymnasium above. I realized I was shirking my responsibilities, and needed
to get back up to the gym myself.

I caught my breath quietly, and picked up my tee shirt, which was half-wet
from the drenched wrestler who had just climbed onto my cock and then
walked off moments later. "I don't even know his name," I whispered to
myself, "or what team he wrestles for!"

I used the wet tee to wipe his cum off my chest and chin at the sink, then
decided to clear some of the cum off the mirror as well. My shirt was
really sticky now, and there was no way I could wear it back up to the gym,
but I'd see a few extra school shirts in the team duffel bag. So, I went
and put one on that fit, and made my way back up the stairs. My shorts were
still wet, but dark enough to hide most of it, and my still half-aroused
cock was laying against my inner thigh under my shorts.

As I rejoined the wrestling event, I saw the "guy" in a white singlet
wrestling just begin his match against Richie. They seemed to be pretty
evenly matched up, so I stopped and watched for a few minutes.

"Nice shirt, Hitch," came a voice over my shoulder. "Oh, and there's cum in
your hair." It was Danny. I turned and smiled at him.

"You'll never believe what just happened in the locker room!" So, I told
him why I changed my shirt, and why there was cum in my hair. He reached
over and discretely pinched a small glob of cum into his fingers and wiped
it on the bottom edge of his shirt.

"You mean that guy grappling Richie?" He exclaimed a little too loudly,
while smelling his still sticky fingers.

"Yes," I turned back to the match. "And if you wait til his crotch is aimed
this way, you can see the wet spot from his cum drizzle." I turned back to
my clipboard and read it was Danny on was next, so I checked the clock and
relaxed a little. He was watching the match intently while adjusting
himself rather blatantly.

The guy had a very wet spot on his junk, and you could see right through
the white spandex to the red cockhead on the other side. During a re-set he
adjusted his dick to point to the other side, and soon there was a wet spot
there too. I imagined he was still ooozing from his massive load -- some of
which had ended up in my hair. I felt my cock twitch and harden a little at
the thought. I ran my own hand through my hair and only felt the smallest
wet spot on the crown of my head. I sniffed the finger as it passed my
nose, and caught a whiff of the guy's spunk.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Danno was watching me, and the slightest
smile on his lips indicated he knew exactly what I was smelling. He flicked
his eyebrows up the smallest amount and licked his lips briefly, but
seductively. "I'm next on the roster, right?" he asked.

"Uh, yup, right you are," I replied. Glancing down at the clipboard, "so
let's get you suited up!"

We got down to the locker room, and I rummaged in the huge sack to find his
gear. Danno was standing a little too close and bumping into me,
intentionally, and just to be funny. His crotch was pressed firmly against
my shoulder, and I could easily feel his semi and his balls. I turned to
face him, grabbing his waistband, pulling his dick out and feeling the
smooth, freshly-shaved skin of his genitals with both hands. "Are you
wearing a jock strap under your singlet today?" I asked, looking up into
his face, and giving him a sly smile. "I've been fantasizing all semester
about seeing you wrestle in person."

"I usually freeball, but I think today I should wear the strap, as you've
already made me horny enough without the extra excitement of leaving my
junk out for all the world to see on the matt." I sensed he was teasing me.

"Aww... rats," I mumbled. "How can I convince you to change your mind?" I
still hand his smooth balls firmly in one hand and his now semi-hard cock
in the other. I gave him a little caress under his balls and rubbed the
front of his dick head with my thumb.

Moaning a little, he replied, "okay roommie, I'll keep it to the bare
minimum, but you'll have to pay me back."

"Deal."

So, he pulled on his singlet, managed to tuck his cock into the tight
spandex, leaving little to the imagination. He bent over and tied his shoes
and we dashed up to the gym. I was hoping to catch all of his match.

Checking the schedule again, I saw he was up to wrestler next. I saw the
guy he was paired with standing on the opposite side of the mat, flexing,
stretching and generally trying to look ready and intimidating. He was a
little taller than Danno, much darker skinned. I imagined drawing him:
rough-edged, like he had come out of the mold and missed the stage where
your features get smoothed out. His jawline was severe, his forehead
angular, and eyes very deep-set. His collar bones and ribs clearly
delineated, his pelvis and shin bones looking sharp and severe. I imagined
wrestling him would be painful. All sharp and pointy.

Danno said, "Oh, yeah. I've wrestled him before -- last season. Tough guy,
but I remember his weakness..." and without further explanation he moved
away to the side where he did a few stretches, pushups and checked in at
the head table. I watched him with new interest. This was a part of my
boyfriend I had never seen first hand. He looked so completely at ease in
his body. Comfortable in his skin. As he focused on the match ahead his
cock had reduced its bulge to a more "normal" size. If you looked closely,
which I was clearly doing, you could still see his dick and balls pushing
against the tight fabric, but it was comparable to every other guy on the
mats in the gym.

When the match began, Danno exploded into action. None of the cautious
"feeling out" the opponent. He dove straight into a grip that caught his
opponent off balance and they were grappling, grabbing for holds and
generally tieing themselves into what looked to me like knots. Legs and
arms flailing, backs and shoulders pressing for the advantage, flipping
from top to bottom, and before I knew it, the whistle was blowing, and they
were stepping apart. I saw Danno was red-faced and breathing hard, but his
concentration was impressive. I looked over to the scoreboard, and he was
up several points. The other wrestler was down on the floor, getting onto
all fours, and Danno kneeled down next to him, but slightly behind (I
imagined he might if he was going to fuck), grabbed the guy's elbow and
hip, then when the ump blew his whistle, they were back at it with a
vengeance.

I had no idea what the holds are called, or what actually racked up points,
but the team seemed to be excited with Danno's performance, and were
cheering him on and yelling what they thought was helpful advice. I think I
was holding my breath, because when he got into a particularly tricky
knot-like arrangement of limbs, they both seemed to be stalled, and I took
a quick breath and saw Danno now had one arm firmly planted deep between
the guy's butt cheeks, his strong grip apparently holding him in place
while simultaneously capturing his opponent's arm behind his back and
forcing him to turn over. His chest was pressed firmly against his side,
and slowly but surely the guy flipped over, and Danno's hand could now be
seen squeezing the guy's junk hard enough to make the boy's eyes almost
pop.

With another quick maneuver, Danno was on top and the guy was severely
pinned. The ump shouted off the count, and declared Danno the winner. Our
team erupted in joy, and the other team stormed the ref's table to protest
what they thought was an illegal hold.

Danno walked confidently off the mat and went straight to the doors leading
to the locker room, so I checked my clipboard, tapped the next guy on the
shoulder, and followed them down the stairs.

When I entered the locker room, he was sitting on the bench, huffing and
puffing, pulling the straps of his suit down, and laughing quietly to
himself. The next wrestler, Derek followed me in, and said immediately,
"That was awesome, dude. Nice moves out there!" He moved past me and
slapped Danno hard on the head as he moved to the next bench. Derek was one
of the guys who I hadn't talked much to on the bus, but he was tall, blonde
and wiry. With only a light coating of dirty blonde hair across his chest
and on his lower legs, but otherwise smooth clear skin. He had long hair,
tied into a tight bun. His chin sported a scraggly patchy growth that could
scarcely be called a beard.

"Yeah," Danno gasped for air, still winded, "I should patent that grip." He
smiled widely, looked up at me, and winked. "I'd called it the Death by
Danno."

"Looked more like the Death to His Crotch hold to me," replied Derek, who
was now pulling off his gym clothes and socks. His tight blue speedo
underwear came off last, and he flung it into space like he hadn't the
slightest care where it landed. "Did you see the look in his eyes? I think
he's going to need rape counseling!" He laughed heartily at that while
pulling hard at his balls.

"What size do you need Derek?" I asked, watching his attention shift back
to matters at hand. I tossed him his suit, and told him his time. "See you
up there, guys," I called back as I went back up to the gym.