Date: Wed, 11 Jan 2017 02:08:19 +0000 (UTC)
From: short_guy@yahoo.com
Subject: Town-Gown Relations

Town-Gown Relations

by Short Guy

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Town-Gown Relations part 1

The first time I ever got my cock sucked was in the bathroom in the
basement of the college library. The building was open to the public so
anyone could wander in, go down the stairs to the basement where the
reading room was, slip into the bathroom and take advantage of the glory
holes in the stall doors, and either suck or get sucked off. Someone had
drilled circular holes in the walls between each of the five stalls and the
holes were big enough to stick your cock and balls through. The college
seemed to tolerate the activity because it neither fixed the glory holes
nor washed off the messages on the walls. The bathroom was used both by
townies and college boys, and to judge by the writing on the walls, and my
years at the school, the place saw hundreds and hundreds of blow jobs every
year.

I had been into guys my whole life but never acted on it. The Internet had
not been invented and finding guys to fuck around with was hard. Everyone
was in the closet, pretending they were into girls. Even guys who looked
like they might like guys were not safe. You never knew. One slip up and
you're the class faggot. No friends, no status, no future. It was a fucking
nightmare.

But college came and I was a freshman studying in the reading room in the
basement level of the library. I got the urge to piss. I left my books on
the table and went next door to the bathroom and entered the very last
stall -- the one in the corner. While most of the toilets faced inward to
the left from the wall on the right, the last stall at the corner faced
toward the others. I sat on the toilet and looked straight ahead toward the
wall separating my stall from the next toilet.

And holy fucking hell, the wall was covered with writing. Writing and
pictures.

One message stood out. It made my skin crawl.

SUCK ME 9/20/72, 2:30 pm

I stared at the words.

Holy shit. It was my first month in college. It was 1972. It was September
20. And it was 2:25 pm.

I started to tremble. My heart started to race. Soon my whole body was
shaking.

I was 18 years old. And if those words meant what they said, some guy was
about to put his big cock through the glory hole expecting me to suck it.

Just then I heard the bathroom door open. Someone came in. He stopped
walking, then slowly came toward my stall. Closer. Closer. Whoever it was,
was outside my stall, trying to look in. From where I was sitting, I could
see his eye through the crack in the door.

He entered the stall next to mine.

I heard him unzip his pants and saw them fall to his feet at the open place
at the bottom of the stall wall.

It was quiet.

Then I noticed an eye looking at me. There was a fucking hole in the wall
between the stalls.

How had I not seen that before? Fucking A, his eye was right there. He was
looking at my hard cock. He was watching me stroking my dick. Then his eye
disappeared.

I listened and I heard him stand up. And there was the distinctive "lup,
lup, lup" that meant he was jacking off.

I couldn't help it.

I got up and kneeled down and looked through the hole. His cock was big and
thick. It was about 7 inches long. It was cut. It was hard. It was
throbbing in his hand. A drop of pearly precum appeared at the very tip. I
heard him breathing in and out. It was a beautiful sight. I was completely
mesmerized.

It was the first time I had seen another dude with a hard cock. It was the
first time I saw another guy stroking his dick. It was my first time.

And then he bent forward to look at me. Our eyes met.

I froze.

I had never done this before. I didn't know how it worked. I wasn't sure
what to do.

I was horny as hell. I was nervous as hell.

I wanted, more than anything, to have my first sexual contact with another
guy and there was a guy whose hard cock was two feet from my own and who
had looked through the hole at the time he had promised to be there.

It had to be.

It was the guy.

It was the guy who had ordered someone to suck his cock.

He looked down at his hard penis. He stopped stroking and showed it to
me. He looked my way as I stared at his dick. He wanted me to do it. He
wanted me to suck his dick.

It was now or never.

I watched as he turned toward me. It was like slow motion. I watched as he
decided that I was there because of his urgent message. Why else would I be
on my knees, my mouth just outside the inviting opening?  I watched as he
did what he came here to do. He slipped his hard dripping cock through the
hole. It was hard and straight. It bounced up and down. It was needy. It
needed a mouth. And it was pointing right at mine.

It was the most exciting moment of my life. It was what I had always been
waiting for.

I moved forward and took his mushroom head in my mouth. I encased it
between my lips. I licked the head all over.

And I started to suck.

My God it was amazing. I was finally sucking a hard cock. It was warm. It
throbbed. It probed. I was finally being allowed to share in another's
guy's manhood. I was finally able to feel another guy's urgent need along
with his manly power. I finally was able to play my role, the one I wanted,
to service a stud, to experience his masculinity inside me, on my eager
tongue.

The power in his cock was incredible. It throbbed. It pushed. It probed. It
began pistoning in and out of my mouth. He was fucking my mouth. He was
getting off on me. He was using me. He was enjoying it. He was fucking
happy to fuck my mouth. And fuck me if I wasn't also using him. I was
sucking cock. I was getting what I wanted.

"Uh," he said. "Teeth. Cover your teeth."

Shit. Right. Cover my teeth. What was I thinking?

His penis was throbbing. He was totally sexed up. He was fucking horny. He
needed a mouth to fuck. He needed a mouth to suck him. He needed to cum
badly. Really badly. He had come to this place to find someone who answered
his call. He had come ready to rock and roll. He had come and I was
there. I must have been there because of his message. I was there because I
was a cocksucker. I was there because he had asked for me to be there. I
was there because I wanted to service him. I was there, he thought, because
I was a cocksucker. Someone said "suck me" and I went out of my way to be
on time. I had gone out of my way to be on my knees, to assume the
position. I had heard the call. I had listened to his order. I had come
when he called.

And for me, I was amazed at being there just when he walked in to get what
he needed. I was there because of a miracle of timing. Someone up above was
looking out for me. Clearly God wanted me to be a homosexual.

And God almighty it felt good. I was sucking a guy's big penis. It felt
right. It felt perfect.

I felt his cock dripping on my tongue, a mixture of piss and precum. I
swallowed and gagged. I was not used to it. His cock was close to my
throat. He was shoving it in and out. It was big. It was thick. It was
dripping into my throat. He was moaning.

But I gagged. It was hard to take.

I moved back a bit to stop the gagging and let him fuck my mouth but not so
far back that my gagging reflex would kick in. This was better. This was
better.

But then I felt a shot of liquid in my mouth. At first I thought he had cum
but it was only more precum spurting out in a gush. It hit the back of my
throat. I was not used to it. I gagged again.

I moved my head back and took my mouth off his cock. I needed to swallow.

He heard me coughing, gagging.

When I did not put my mouth on his cock again right away, he stepped back,
pulled up his pants and exited the stall. I felt like a failure. I thought
he was going to go away. I rose from my knees and sat back down on the
toilet.

But then he was standing outside my stall, knocking gently.

"Let me in," he said.

I hesitated. I wanted to suck. I fucking wanted to suck. But he was making
me gag and that was not fun. Maybe I was not cut out for this after
all. Maybe...

But I was still horned up. I was fucking horny. And there was a hunky guy
right outside who wanted to get off with me. Goddam it, I was not going to
just let him go away.

I let him in.

He came in and I saw his face. He was not a student. He was a townie. I
recognized him. He worked at the pizza shop on Main Street just next to the
campus. I had ordered a pizza from him twice already and handed him my
money.

He was cute. He had a boyish face, probably Irish, small, upturned nose. A
crooked smile. He was fucking handsome.

He looked down at me sitting on the toilet. He smiled. But then he suddenly
looked serious.

"You saw my message?"

"Yes."

"You're here to suck my dick?"

I hesitated but said, "Yes."

He waited a moment and then asked, "Is this your first time?"

I gulped and said nothing.

"It is, isn't it?" he said, wonderingly. "Isn't it?"

I guess I should admit it, I thought.

"Yes, it's my first time."

He smiled broadly and looked down at me.

"Oh buddy, that is fucking awesome. My cock is the first one that you have
ever had in your mouth?"

"Yes," I answered, weakly.

"Oh Lord is that hot!"

He was excited. He was elated. He was fucking turned on by being the first
man to fuck my face.

He entered the stall and closed the door. He stood in front of me, his
package right in front of my face, my no longer so virgin lips.

He stroked my head, letting his fingers pass through the long hair on the
top of my head, treating my hair like a precious thing. He was caressing
me. He was showing me affection.

He had a hard throbbing big thick cock. And he was a fucking nice guy.

I looked up at him. He was beautiful. His face was radiant. His lips were
parted and full. His eyes were mischievous. His hand was passing through my
hair the way you would pet a longhaired dog.

"You a freshman?" he asked.

"How'd you know?" I asked.

"Hell, this is fucking hot. Not only your first time sucking dick but a
baby freshman fresh out of high school. Fuck me, I want to feel your mouth
on my cock. But I'll take it slow, buddy. I know you're learning. I know
you want to learn."

He caressed my hair.  He bent down and kissed my forehead. And then he
whispered.

"And I want to teach you."

He unbuckled his belt.

He dropped his pants.

His cock sprang out and pointed straight toward my mouth.

And his mushroom head touched my lips, they parted to let him in, to let
his cock explore my eager mouth. I felt his cock slide over my tongue and
between my lips which were slippery with his precum and my own saliva.

And then he flipped as if it were a fantasy movie and he had changed from
being a normal guy to being a vampire or a beast. He moaned. He became
aggressive. He was totally juiced to be getting sucked off by a virgin
freshman boy.

"Suck me," he said, practically growling. "Suck my fucking dick. Suck my
townie cock."

And he was pistoning in and out of my mouth. I was sucking cock. I was
sucking cock. I was sucking cock.

I was a college boy, on my knees, sucking a cute, aggressive townie guy. A
guy who clearly got off on getting a college boy to suck his rockhard
townie dick.

But then I gagged again.

His cock was long and it was hitting the back of my throat. I was
sensitive. I had not yet learned to tolerate an invasion into my throat. I
had not learned to swallow a throbbing penis.

He stopped, his cock still between my lips.

And then he did something amazing. Slowly, he slipped his dick out of my
mouth. He put his hands on my shoulders and made me stand up. He looked me
in the eyes. A tear was falling from one eye. I was not used to this and
the gagging had made me cry a little.

He stroked my face. He moved forward and kissed my forehead. He moved his
face down, close now, so close.

He kissed me on the lips.

Holy fucking hell. His lips felt good. They felt fucking great. I was my
first goddam kiss from a guy and it was gentle, loving. It was good. Fuck
me, it was good. Fuck it, he was amazing. He was handsome, sexy, gentle.

He had changed. For some reason, he was no longer acting like a horny
bastard in a horror film. He was acting like a tender lover.

"That was good for the first time. That was good. I want you to have a good
memory of this first time. I want it to be something you remember fondly. I
want it to be something that makes you cum when you think about it. I want
to be the guy you remember you whole life when you think about your first
time. I want your first time to be so good you fucking shoot a load just
thinking about me."

He paused. And then he turned me around. He sat on the toilet in my place.

He looked up at me. And he went down on me. He fucking went down on me.

He looked up at me as he did it. My cock was in his cute Irish mouth. He
had no gag reflex. I felt my cock hitting the back of his throat. It made
no difference. He liked it. He let it in. He let me in. He sucked me. I
fucked his mouth. He sucked me. He licked my sperm shoot. He licked the
head of my penis. He licked the underneath part near the base.

He licked my balls. He licked the place between my balls and my thighs. He
lifted my balls and licked underneath them.

Fucking hell, it was wonderful.

And then it happened. He took my cock all the way into his mouth. My cock
head had entered his throat. He was open. He was enclosing me, making my
cock throb, swallowing in a way that squeezed my cock in his throat, all
the while looking up at me.

I couldn't stop it. I couldn't help it. I fucking shot a spurt of cum down
his throat.

I felt him swallow.

I shot again. I felt him swallow.

Again. Swallow. Again. Swallow. Again. Swallow.

And when it was done, when I had emptied my semen into his throat, he
released me.

He swallowed one last time and then stood up.

He looked into my eyes.

"Was that your first blow job?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"First one in your whole life?"

Yes," I said, again.

"Fucking wicked," he said, grinning. "Was it good?"

"Shit yes," I said. "It was fucking great."

He smiled and kissed me on the lips. He kneeled to bring up his pants.

"What about you?" I said.

"S' okay," he said. "I wanted to get sucked off but this was even hotter. I
got to be your first. And now when I see you come in to buy pizza for the
next four years, I'm gonna know I'm the guy that took your virginity. Don't
worry. I'll see you again. I know it. You were moaning while you were
sucking my cock. I know what that means."

He looked at me.

"What... what does it mean?" I asked, hesitantly.

He leaned over and kissed my forehead and then whispered in my ear.

"It means you want t do it again. It means you're going to jack off tonight
thinking about the way my cock felt on your tongue. It means you belong on
your knees, just like me. It means, college boy, that you wanna be my
cocksucker."

I wasn't sure about that. I wasn't sure about it at all.

But Pizza Boy had seen me melt to my knees in front of him. He had seen me
tremble at the mere touch of his dick on my lips. He heard the purring in
my throat when his cock entered my mouth. He had seen me look up at him in
wonder, he had seen me caress his thighs, his butt, his abs, as I sucked
his cock. He had seen me gaze into his eyes and worship his stiff needy
penis.

Pizza Boy had gotten sucked off by enough college boys to know when he had
found one who was into servicing a hunky townie. He had found a
cocksucker. He had found me. And he knew it.



Town-Gown Relations part 2

I met with Pizza Boy many times over my four years in college. I had a
regular schedule of classes and there were times I was always in the
reading room. And when I was there, the bathroom next door would beckon to
me like a horny lover. I was drawn to the bathroom like a moth to
flame. And more often than not, Pizza Boy was there. He was a horny
bastard. And he had fucking memorized my schedule.

College boys were horny. Very horny. And having a glory hole to ease the
load right there in the library made getting off very convenient. Of course
it required cocksuckers like me to be around and ready to be of
service. Pizza Boy had a lot of mouths to choose from.

In those days, everyone was in the closet. Everyone was pretending the
bathroom trips were just that. Of course, all the guys saw the
grafitti. They saw the pictures of erect cocks. They saw the hurried
scrawls to "suck me." They saw the dates, the times. And they would hear
the hurried shuffling when they entered the bathroom with everyone
withdrawing from sexual activity just in case the intruder was not cool
with it. And the staff would leave the messages until the walls were so
full of penned messages that there was no room for more. And then they
would clean the stall walls, all the better to let us start writing new
messages, new invitations, new ways to meet. After all, the janitors were
horny too. I know from first experience; the married Puerto Rican janitor
was a special favorite of mine. I learned some interesting Spanish hearing
him comment on how my mouth felt on his dick as he shot a load in my
college boy mouth.

Pizza Boy was a regular at the bathroom. He knew when I would be there. He
knew how to recognize my shoes. Of course I was not the only college boy
sucking him off. But, according to him, I was his favorite. He told me that
I was the only one that licked his balls as if they were precious jewels. I
was the only one who took time, who got him ready, who made him last. I was
the only one who lengthened his pleasure until he erupted with such force
that his cum hit my throat like a bullet.

I don't know if he was joshing me. Maybe he told all the college boys they
were his favorites. I know he got off on serving pizza to boys whose mouths
he had fucked. He got on off on that like crazy.

Pizza Boy was patient. He taught me slowly. He let me practice. He let me
stumble. He let me gag and try again. But he made me into a passable
cocksucker. He taught me to swallow, to gulp down his hot seed, to swallow
without gagging, to savor the thick nectar, to tolerate his cock as it
nudged the back of my throat. And when push came to shove, he got what he
wanted; he got to shoot his townie cum into my college boy mouth. He got to
feed me his semen. He got to turn the virgin into his repeat cocksucker.

Townies often look down on the college boys and the college boys looked
down on the townies.

Pizza Boy got off on that, just a little.

"Suck that townie cock, college boy," he would say, reveling in the idea
that a snooty college kid was so turned on by his thick Irish cock that the
college boy would kneel down to suck it and to keep at it until he was
rewarded with a hot load of townie cum.

And truth be told I got off on that too. We college boys were going to be
doctors and lawyers and bankers. By societal standards we were going to be
more "successful" than a handsome stud in a pizza shop. But Pizza Boy was a
hunk. He was fucking handsome; he was sexy; he had a cock that would not
quit. He was a boy; he was a man. And whenever I saw him, I fucking wanted
to kneel right on the spot and worship at the altar of his handsome Irish
manhood. I wanted to see the glory in his eyes as he orgasmed in my mouth,
the triumph in his chest as he shot his seed onto my waiting tongue. I
wanted to see him looking down at me, I wanted to look up to him, my townie
stud.

And of course I saw him in the pizza shop whenever I went with my friends
to get some pizza. Pizza Boy was a perfect gentleman on occasions like
that. He would look at me, sometimes a little too long, but not enough to
give anything away. He did have a nice little habit of holding my fingers
and sliding his fingers over them as he took my money. And if I ate the
pizza in the shop with my friends I would sometimes lick my fingers to
clean off the fat from the mozzarella cheese and olive oil and look at him
as I sucked the fat off my fingers. Pizza Boy told me it gave him a hardon
to see me sucking on my own fingers while looking at him. His penis would
swell in sympathy imagining my lips stretched around it. He loved it when I
teased him.

Once I went to get a slice of pizza just before closing time. I held back
so I would be the last one in line. Pizza Boy served everyone else. Then he
turned to the owner and offered to stay while I ate my slice and then lock
up for the night. The owner was a hunky muscular Mexican stud named
Miguel. MIguel turned to look at me. His eyes held mine. He stared. Holy
fuck was he good looking. It seemed as if a minute passed. I could not tear
my eyes away. He was fucking handsome. Fuck me, I started to get hard. My
cock fucking pulled a boner. Miguel broke eye contact and looked down at my
crotch. He saw the effect his beautiful eyes had on me. He saw what his
handsome face did to my college boy dick. He whispered something to Pizza
Boy. Pizza Boy whispered something back. Miguel chuckled.

"I want to see that," he said.

I looked at Pizza Boy to find out what he meant. I was starting to get
nervous.

"Come to my office, college boy," Miguel said.

I'm not sure why I did it. There were two of them and, well, just me. And
Miguel was an unknown quantity. But I was fucking horny and Miguel was a
fucking stud. I was there because I hoped Pizza Boy could whip out his cock
after everyone left and let me suck it. And now here he was inviting me to
the back of the counter where my cute Irish Pizza Boy was huddling with a
handsome Mexican daddy.

I heard myself talking.

"Si, Señor," I said.

Miguel chuckled.

"Muy bién. Llámame Señor. Señor Miguel. Dame respeto." [Very
good. Call me Mister. Mister Miguel. Give me respect.]

I moved as if in a dream. Pizza Boy lifted the counter to let me pass and I
was on the other side. The oven was still hot and I saw Pizza Boy sweating
even though it was winter time. As I approached, Pizza Boy gently, but
firmly, pressed on my shoulder to make me sink to my knees. He stood before
me. Señor Miguel came to stand next to him.

"Show me," Señor Miguel said. "Show me how the college boy sucks townie
dick."

And Pizza Boy moved his apron to the side to reveal his rock hard cock
pointed straight at my mouth. Señor Miguel ignored Pizza Boy's beautiful
cock. He stared at me. He looked hungry. He looked determined. He looked
eager. He wanted to see this college boy open his mouth, he wanted to see
me look him in the eyes, he wanted me to keep looking him in the eyes as
Pizza Boy slowly moved his penis to my lips, coated them with his precum,
and then slid his cock over my tongue and into my wet college boy mouth. I
stared at Señor Miguel's eyes as Pizza Boy fucked my mouth. I saw his
apron expand, I saw it push forward as his cock got hard seeing me suck his
young employee. I saw him copy Pizza Boy and push his apron aside, undo his
zipper, slip out his uncut Mexican cock and move slowly toward my face.

Pizza Boy knew when to defer to his boss. He knew what the look in the
owner's eyes meant. He knew that his boss could not wait another second. He
wanted a blow job from a college boy and he wanted it then.

My eyes never left those of Pizza Boy's boss. Señor Miguel's cock was at
my lips. He breathed in sharply as I took him in. It was as if he was
astonished that this was happening. It was as if he could not believe his
luck. He needed a blow job. He was surrounded by boys whose wet lips looked
inviting. And here one was, on his knees, in front of Señor Miguel's
oven, with his lips wrapped around Señor Miguel's horned up cock. It was
a dream come true.

I sucked his cock. I held his muscular daddy ass as he fucked my face. I
watched his astonishment as I swallowed his dick. I heard him grunting as
he picked up the pace. I felt his hands gripping my head, imprisoning me
where he needed me to be, on my knees, my throat open, my lips wet, my
mouth hot, my tongue close. I sucked him, my eyes locked on his. I was on
knees. I was at church. It was time for the offering.

It didn't take long before Señor Miguel let out a moan that announced
his ecstatic climax. He shot his load right down my throat. I felt my
throat constrict and swallow. I felt how my throat closing increased his
pleasure. I felt the power in his hands and his cock and the trembling of
his thighs as he shot his load deep into the throat of a college boy he had
been serving for a whole year. Now it was me, servicing him.

It was clear, it was crystal clear, that he had long wanted to get a blow
job from a college boy like me. It was obvious he was horny as a bastard
and that his cock needed more help than he was getting at home. It was easy
to see how this moment was a moment of triumph as his thick cum shot down
my throat. He had a college boy on his knees. He had a college boy who
craved his cock. He had a college boy who was hungry for his cum. He had a
college boy who knew how to take it all, to swallow him like his wife never
would or could. He was a shop owner. He was respected in the community. He
was married. He would never act to jeopardize his position, his marriage,
his business. But he was also a horny fucking bastard. And when a college
boy looked up to him, when a college boy admired his manhood, when a
college boy was drawn to him and sank to his knees in front of him, when
this college boy looked him in the eye with awe and hunger, what the fuck
was he supposed to do? He wasn't an angel, after all. He was a guy who
loved sex and was not getting enough. He was a guy who loved to be sucked
off married to a woman who hated to suck his dick. He was man who depended
on college boys to buy his pizza and not to let other people know that he
liked getting his cock sucked. But all his doubts, all his fears, they flew
out the chimney. I was on my knees, I wanted to suck his dock. I wanted to
solve his problem. And nothing -- not anything -- could have stopped him
from unloading my college boy throat. If his wife had walked in at that
moment, if his teenage daughter can opened the door, he would have kept his
cock embedded in my throat, he would have kept on fucking my face, he would
have gripped my head so tightly that nothing could dislodge it.

And with his need, his urgent, all-encompassing need, Señor Miguel shot
his hot load in my mouth with a moan so loud I thought the neighbors would
call the cops. He shot and shot and shot and shot. He unloaded a four day
load down college boy's throat. He unloaded as if he had never cum
before. Never, not once in his entire life, had any women sucked him the
way I did. Never had he had a cocksucker who had been taught by Pizza
Boy. Never before had he had boy.

And at that very moment, at the moment his boss shot his load down my
throat, Pizza Boy could stand it no more. His cock constricted. He shot out
a load that hit me right in the face. He shot again. Another hit. He shot
and shot and shot and shot, all the while seeing his boss's cock in my
mouth.

I was on my knees. My face was covered in Irish cum. The owner's Mexican
cock was still embedded in my throat.

And as I looked up at them, the Irish boy and the Mexican man, as I felt
Pizza Boy's cum drip down my cheeks and my lips to land on Señor
Miguel's penis, I felt my own cock finally give it up. I swallowed, feeling
Señor Miguel's still hard penis in my throat. I shot a fucking load of
cum on this stud's pizza shop floor. I swallowed and shot. I swallowed and
shot. I swallowed and shot.

And when it was over, Pizza Boy helped me clean myself up. He even let me
borrow a pair of his pants so I wouldn't have to go back to the dorm with
cum all over my crotch. He was a good guy, Pizza Boy was.

Señor Miguel was ecstatic at getting the best blow job of his life. He
was even happier when he learned I was fluent in Spanish and that I had
completely understood that "chupa" meant "suck" and that I was eager to
learn what those other words meant. Those Mexican sex words I had never
heard before. And even better, that I was eager to do whatever those words
meant, that I was eager to please him, to service him, that this was not a
one-off event.

For my part, I was happy. I had a daddy cock to suck. And I had a stud to
practice my Spanish with. That was a ready excuse to spend some quality
time alone with Señor Miguel and to stay after hours when the other
students left. Learning Spanish, practicing Mexican cock sucking. And Pizza
Boy got a fucking raise.

I had scored one (or two) for good town/gown relations.

Over the next years we graduated to fucking. Pizza Boy broke me in. After
closing the shades in the pizza shop with me staying on pretending to study
conversational Spanish, Pizza Boy oiled my ass with virgin olive oil, the
kind that went into the pizzas we college kids ate. And as patient as he
was in teaching me to suck, so he taught me to relax and let him fuck my
college boy bubble butt and take his Irish cock as far in as it would
go. And once he had gotten me comfortable taking his dick up my bubble
butt, Señor Miguel stepped in. We made an Irish-Mexican sandwich. I was
the filling wrapped in studs, front and back. Pizza Boy's cock in my mouth,
Señor Miguel's cock in my ass. Cum injected all around.

From then on, I ate a lot of pizza. But I stopped paying in cash. I paid
on my knees. I paid looking up in worship at my handsome studs. I paid
bending over the pizza counter and taking one -- or two -- for the team. I
paid sucking one cock and then the other.

I learned a lot in college.

But Pizza Boy and Señor Miguel were my favorite teachers.

Until I met Billy's father.



Town-Gown Relations part 3

One day I was in the bathroom outside the college reading room at lunch
time when a new guy came in. I was in the spring semester of my sophomore
year now and a skilled cocksucker and a take-it-hard bottom. New Guy
entered the stall next to me--the one with the big glory hole. He slipped
down his pants and started to stroke. Fuck his cock was big. Nice smooth
head, cut, powerful, and hard. It looked like it was 9 inches long. Fucking
A. A monster cock. It would take both of my hands to jack him off. He saw
me looking through the hole at his big cock and he stood up. His cock was
jumping, he was so horny. He eased it through the hole.

Pizza Boy and Señor Miguel had taught me well and I was able to handle
Mr. Nine Inch without gagging too badly. I was gratified to hear him
moaning as he unloaded into my mouth.

"That's it, Billy," he said. "Suck me. Suck Daddy."

Who the hell was Billy?

Once he had unloaded his full dose into my mouth, I heard him sigh.

"That was fucking amazing," he said.

It was weird but I was happy that he was a satisfied customer.

I was curious what he looked like. I was pretty sure he was older. Pizza
Boy was in his early 20s and Señor Miguel was in his 30s. This guy
seemed older. And I was attracted to older men, to daddy types. I was happy
that I was able to suck the cock of a grown man and that he had liked it.

He emerged from his stall. I thought he would leave, having been successful
in getting sucked off by a sophomore. But he waited outside my door.

"Let me see you son," he begged. "Please."

I was curious what he looked like so I got dressed and went outside.

He was tall. He was huge compared to me. I'm five two and he must have been
six ten. His nipples were so high up they were over my head. He looked like
he was in his forties. He was handsome, masculine. He was a fucking
daddy. I was entranced. I was hooked. I was in lust.

He looked around to make sure no one else was there.

"I live around the corner behind the inn. My wife works in the city and
won't be home until 7:00 pm. Our son is in eighth grade and won't be home
until 5:00 after orchestra practice. I have the place to myself. Have you
had lunch?"

I didn't know what to say. First of all, I had just swallowed his cum, so
technically I had fed. Second of all, I did not know how dangerous it would
be to go on his turf at a place he shared with a wife and young son.

"Please?" he said. And his face was so handsome, so manly, so daddy-like,
and he was so fucking tall that I felt as if I had been preparing for this
moment my whole life.

I followed him home.

He was the manager of the inn next to the college and had a lot of control
over his own time. He frequently had his house to himself. He was located
next to a school with horny college boys, many of whom liked to suck daddy
cock. He had been sucked off dozens of times by horny sophomores.

He told me later he had never before asked anyone back to his house.

Why did he ask me?

The answer became clear as soon as I entered his house. It was filled with
photos of his son.

"What's your son's name?" I asked, looking at them.

He looked at me.

"Can't you guess?" he asked.

I looked at him. I gasped.

"No fucking way," I said. "Really?"

He just nodded.

"Your son's name is Billy?"

He looked at me. I looked at Billy's picture. And then I saw it. I fucking
saw it.

I looked like Billy. I fucking looked like Billy.

I could have been his brother. I could have been this guy's son.

The pervert wanted his son to suck his cock and he was visiting the college
library bathroom over and over and over and over to pretend that these
college cocksuckers were cute little Billy.

"Where's his room?" I said.

The guy gasped.

"Show me," I said.

He led me down the hall to a very messy room.

I went inside and looked around. It was the room of a 13 year old.

As the father watched I went to the boy's dresser and opened the top
drawer. Yep, just as I expected. His undies. His jock straps. His gym
bottoms.

I turned and look at the guy.

"Do you mind if I get comfortable, Daddy?" I asked.

He looked like he was going to pass out.

He said nothing.

I took that as permission and before his eyes I stripped off my clothes and
stood naked before him.

I turned to the drawer and a pair of underwear that belonged to his son. I
am short, as I said, and the son was developed. We were about the same
size.

I looked up at the Dad and put on his son's briefs. I felt my cock encased
in the briefs where his son's penis usually rested. It got me hard.

It got his Dad hard.

I moved toward him. I looked up into my Daddy's face.

"I love you Daddy," I said. His chest started heaving up and down. He
realized what I was doing. He realized I knew his deepest secret. He
realized I was giving him permission to fuck his son. He looked like he was
about to faint.

I touched his crotch and felt his hardening dick. I looked up into his
face.

"Tell me who I am," I said as i kneeled and unzipped his trousers.

He was quiet, gasping for breath.

"Tell me who I am, Daddy," I said as I liberated his hard daddy cock from
his own boxers.

My tongue licked at his cock head. My eyes fixed on his.

"Tell me who I am," I said a third time.

"Billy."

I looked at him as I licked his cockhead.

"Billy," he said again as my mouth wrapped around his throbbing daddy
dick. "My son Billy."

And with that he cried out and pushed his cock all the way down my throat.

It was over quickly. It had been too much for him. The thought of actually
getting sucked off by his son was so fucking amazing that he shot a new
load into my throat almost immediately. And he yelled so loud I thought the
police would come, thinking someone was being murdered.

His cock was trembling in my throat, in its last spasms, releasing his
torrent of cum down his son's throat. His son Billy. Me.

And for the next three years we had trists in his house, in Billy's room,
on Billy's bed, me wearing Billy's clothes. I spent my last three years of
college helping a horny man fuck his son.

It wasn't so bad for me either. I had jacked off when I was growing up
thinking about my Dad. I had had those same urges Billy's father did except
the opposite way. My Dad had often come into my bed in the morning to
cuddle and wake me up. He would climb behind me and spoon with me.
Sometimes I could feel his hard cock moving against my ass. I could feel
him kiss my face. I could even remember the couple of times my Dad could
not help himself when he had shot his load against my cute little boy ass,
getting both my pajamas and his wet with the cum that made me.

Dad never did anything more with me. But that didn't stop me from jacking
off thinking what i would be like if he eased my pj's down and shoved his
cock up my fucking ass.

And now I was getting what I wanted. I was getting to have sex with my Dad.

We both got what we wanted out of the arrangement. It was a match made in
heaven.

We progressed from me sucking him off to his fucking my ass.

When his cock first entered me, we did it on Billy's bed. When he first
fucked his son Billy, when his cock first penetrated my hot little asshole,
he was so fucking emotional he burst into tears. He fucked me while he was
sobbing. He had wanted to fuck Billy for so long. He had wanted to be
Billy's lover for so long, he had given up on the chance of it ever
happening. He thought it would kill Billy, that it would unhealthy,
perverted, it would traumatize him. So he refrained from doing what he most
wanted to do. He was, in his own way, a good Dad.

But here I was, in Billy's jock strap, giving him what he wanted, what he
most wanted. Access to Billy's little ass.

He had thought it would never happen. I made it happen for him. I became
his son and his lover. I became what he had jacked off to so many times. I
became what he wanted his son to be. I became what he had imagined all
those college mouths were behind closed stalls. I was Billy's mouth. I was
Billy's ass. I was Billy's sweet lips on his.

I wore Billy's briefs. I soaked them with Billy's cum. I was his Billy. And
I allowed him to break all barriers, to do what he would never do with his
own son. He loved his son too much to traumatize him by having incest with
him. But he lusted after his son's body too much to let me stop seeing
him. He begged me to return. And fuck it, I did. I had always wanted my own
dad to fuck me. I had jacked off thinking about it. And so I got to do
that. I got to feel my Dad's cum shooting up my ass.

I allowed him to protect his son from himself while turning me into the
fuckboy he secretly wanted his son to be. And I got to make love with my
Dad even though my real Dad would never have allowed that to happen.

He fucked me on his son's bed. He fucked me in his own bed where Billy had
been conceived. He fucked me as he walked around the house, me bouncing on
his dick encased in Billy's jock strap. He fucked me in the kitchen as he
prepared lunch for his little boy. He fucked me in the shower where BIlly's
naked body luxuriated in the soapy water. He fucked me in the basement
where Billy played with his friends.

And when I graduated, and my parents stayed at the inn, he gave me a last
present.

He was working at the front desk, and next to him was... it was Billy. It
was his real son Billy. And he really was the same height as me. He really
did look like me. Billy was now 16 and was allowed to man the front desk.

"Hi Billy," I said to his son.

Billy frowned. "How'd you know my name?" he asked.

"Your Dad told me your name when I signed up to have my parents stay here
for graduation. You look like your Dad." I looked up at his Dad, standing
there. "I guessed. I guessed you were Billy. I guess I was right."

Billy smiled. "Guess so."

"Billy," his Dad interrupted. "Can you man the fort for a while? I will
take Guy and his folks up to their room."

And so he did. It was weird to be in the elevator with my Mom and my real
Dad and also... what was he? my college dad? Billy's dad? my middle-aged
lover? I wondered what my Dad and Mom would think if they knew the manager
helping them check in had been fucking my ass since sophomore year.

My parents were tired from the long car ride. They were going to rest for
two hours until we met for dinner downstairs in the inn run by Billy's
father. As he and I closed the door to their room, he put his hand on my
shoulder.

"Here," he said, and walked me down the hall and up the stairs to the next
floor to the room on the corner. He took out the key to open the door and
led me inside.

The bed was a kingsize. Fucking enormous. He shut the door.

He looked at me, knowing I was about to graduate, knowing he would probably
never see me again. And with no words spoken, he undressed me. He saw I was
wearing Billy's underwear. He stripped. His cock was huge. It was harder
and bigger than it had ever been.

And as we had practiced for three years, he slid his cock into my eager,
waiting mouth, into Billy's mouth, into his son's mouth. And as he fucked
my mouth, as he fucked my ass, as he shot his full load deep inside my anus
with his tongue fucking my mouth, my mouth sucking his daddy tongue,
knowing it was the last time he could do any of these things, the last time
in his entire life, he said one word, over and over and over again.

"Billy."





Short Guy Stories

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/driving-instructor

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/play-like-a-man

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/beginnings/the-bottom-apartment

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/office-hours

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/will-you-be-my-buddy

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/encounters/daddy-issues