The following story is fictional. As such, it is not based on any real events, people, places, or fraternities. My stories contain graphic sexual content, violence, and offensive language. You must be eighteen and located where it's legal to read such stories.

In real life, be respectful of others and never engage in anything even vaguely non-consensual. Use protection and don't take party drugs.

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author -- eli on eli.vandergraaff@gmail.com

Characters:

Bradley van der Meer	Caucasian; Age 22; Straight, light brown hair; Blue eyes; 6' 4"; 200 lbs.	University Senior; President -- Pi Kappa Epsilon (ΠΚΕ); Starting QB -- University Football team
Jon Swenson	Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, neck-length, light blonde hair; Blue eyes; 5' 10"; 160 lbs.	University Sophomore; Treasurer -- ΠΚΕ Social Cmte; High School Football QB & Baseball
Kevin Striklin	Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, medium length, black hair -- shaggy bangs; Blue eyes; 6' 2"; 170 lbs.	University Sophomore; Member -- ΠΚΕ; High School Football & Wrestling
Taylor Harris	Caucasian; Age 21; Straight, neck-length, dark, blonde hair; Blue eyes; 6' 2"; 185 lbs; Striking resemblance -- young Tom Brady	University Senior; Vice President -- ΠΚΕ; RB -- University Football team
Todd Dreyer	Caucasian; Age 21; Curly blonde hair; 6' 2"; Blue eyes; 175 lbs.	University Senior; Member -- ΠΚΕ; Rower -- University team
Colin Miller	African-American; Age 20; Short, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 4"; 200 lbs.	University Junior; Boarding School Football & Baseball
Matt Jensen	Caucasian; Age 20; Short, white-blonde hair; Blue eyes; 6' 1"; 170 lbs.	University Junior; Secretary -- ΠΚΕ; Wrestler -- University Wrestling team
Luke Jost	Caucasian; Age 21; Curly, brown hair; 6' 2"; Brown eyes; 170lbs.	University Senior; Treasurer -- ΠΚΕ; Football (Sidelined) University team
Ryan Cook	Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, light auburn hair; Blue eyes; 6' 0"; 160 lbs.	University Sophomore; Member -- Tau Kappa Epsilon (TKE); High School Football & Baseball
Dylan d'Abaco	Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, black hair -- shaggy bangs; Dark brown eyes; 6' 0"; 170 lbs.; Olive completion (Italian)	University Sophomore; Member -- TKE; Rugby -- University team
Chase James	Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, dark blonde hair; Light gray-green eyes; 6' 1"; 175 lbs.	University Sophomore; Member -- TKE; Rugby -- University team; Boarding School Rugby
Mason Alexander	Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, brown hair; Brown eyes; 5' 11"; 160 lbs.	University Sophomore; Member -- ΠΚΕ; High School Football & Basketball
Chris Flynn	Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, dark auburn hair; Gray eyes; 6' 1"; 165 lbs.	University Sophomore; Member -- ΠΚΕ; High School Football & Basketball
Tyler Harmon	Caucasian; Age 20; Neck-length, straight brown hair; Hazel eyes; 6' 2"; 175 lbs.	High School Football (RB) & Baseball
Dave Lembi	Caucasian; Age 20; Straight, blonde hair; Blue eyes; 6' 1"; 170 lbs.	High School Football & Baseball
Tyrese Lundsford	Biracial (Black/White); Age 22; Wide mohawk w/ long, tight, bouncy curls; Brown eyes; 6' 3"; 225 lbs.	University Senior; Vice President -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas); TE -- University Football team
Darnell Ramsey	African-American; Age 21; Short, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 5"; 210 lbs.	University Senior; President -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas)
Deshawn Davis	African-American; Age 20; Short, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 3"; 190 lbs.	University Junior; Active -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas)
Trevon Whiteley	African-American; Age 20; Short, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 6"; 215 lbs.	University Junior; Active -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas)
Jonah Erickson	Caucasian; Age 18; Curly, blonde hair; Blue eyes; 5' 11"; 155 lbs.	University Freshman; High School Basketball & Baseball
Officer Trey Douglas	African-American; Age 23; Short-fade, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 3"; 190 lbs. Lives with one of his baby-mommas with whom he has one child and another on the way. Has another baby-momma with whom he has one child.	Rookie police officer on City Police Dept.
Officer Akihiro Takahashi	Japanese-American descent; 26; Short, straight, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 0"; 165 lbs. Married, with two children.	Rookie police officer on City Police Dept.
Officer Justin O'Hare	Irish-American descent; 23; Crew-cut, medium red hair; Pale blue eyes; 6' 2"; 175 lbs. Married to Kristi and expecting their first child.	Rookie police officer on City Police Dept.
Jeff Sorenson	Caucasian; 33; Slicked-back, blonde hair; Blue eyes, 5' 11"; 160 lbs. Married, with a two-year old girl and a 5-year-old boy.	Attorney at the law firm representing the business interests of Kevin Striklin's father
Wade Johansen	Caucasian; 31; Short, dark auburn-brown hair with long, shaggy bangs and a thick, 5" beard; Dark brown eyes; 6' 4"; 215 lbs.; Heavily muscled. Married and divorced three times, with (at least) five children (of which he's aware).	Convicted felon: Aggravated rape, Statutory rape, Armed robbery, Possession and sale of Class 2 and 3 drugs
Brendan Penner	Caucasian; 22; Straight, light-brown hair; Brown eyes; 6' 5"; 200 lbs.	University Senior; WR -- University Football team
Trent Lockridge	Caucasian; 21; Blonde hair; Blue eyes; 6' 4"; 190 lbs.	University Junior; Backup QB -- University Football team
Zach Lembi	Caucasian; 18; Long, light-blonde hair; Blue eyes; 6' 0"; 165 lbs.	University Freshman; Pledge -- Pi Kappa Epsilon (ΠΚΕ); High School Football & Baseball; Younger brother of Dave Lembi (from Jon Swenson's hometown)
Logan Johansen	Caucasian; 18; Short, dark auburn-brown hair with long, shaggy bangs; Dark brown eyes; 6' 3"; 200 lbs.; Heavily muscled.	University Freshman; Pledge -- Pi Kappa Epsilon (ΠΚΕ); Wrestler -- University Wrestling team; High School Football & Wrestling; Summer Amateur Boxing; Younger brother of criminal Wade Johansen

 

 

-- Chapter 1 --

or Why Jon Shouldn't Drink

Jon Swenson was a Sophomore at a large, Midwestern, State university and also an Active of a popular fraternity on campus, ΠΚΕ, having gone through a year of pledge hell his Freshman year. With the frat having a considerable number of popular university athletes as Actives, Jon felt pumped he'd made it and proud to be a ΠΚΕ. While Jon had played varsity football and baseball in high school--a rather small high school, he wasn't quite of the caliber for collegiate sports, but he was cool with that, wanting to focus on his studies anyway. Like most studs, Jon had a girlfriend, Tess, an Active of Kappa Kappa Gamma, who he'd met his Freshman year, and like many jocks, he was exceptionally handsome, muscled, and broad shouldered, working out almost daily. Of Swedish descent, Jon stood 5' 11", weighed 160 lbs., and had an angular, almost `beautiful', Nordic face--flawless and smooth in its complexion. In addition, the he had neck-length, light blonde hair and beautiful, deep blue eyes. Jon, however, seemed almost oblivious to his masculine beauty and dismissed the girls throwing themselves at him as just being `silly'. Besides, he already had a hot babe, Tess, and Jon loved her tits, not getting enough of them. As you can imagine, though, Tess found these girls extremely annoying, and although she recognized Jon paid little attention to them, they were a source of friction between Jon and Tess. Being a cool-under-pressure, quiet sort of dude, Jon rode the Tess `rollercoaster' with great patience ...and, of course, he rode her in other ways as well. While he could have chosen to live in the ΠΚΕ house, Jon had ambitions for Law School and realized the frat house would be too distracting. Instead, he lived--for the lack of a better description--in a large boarding house for college boys, owned by an old lady, named Mrs. Hays, and sweetly located a mere half-block from the university's center. The old lady had her private apartments downstairs, where there was also a separate, common kitchen for the tenants. The boys--28 in total--lived in private rooms on the two, upper stories, sharing three, common bathrooms in addition to the kitchen. Jon's room was on the second floor at the end of the hall overlooking the roof on the front porch.

In January, on the first Saturday night following Christmas break, ΠΚΕ traditionally threw a big, `welcome back' party. It was subzero, and Tess had come down with the flu. Jon stayed with her until around 10 p.m. when she tired of him and insisted he go to the party. The frat was several blocks away, so having walked there in the snow and freezing weather, Jon was anxious to get some alcohol in his system--to feel his toes and fingers again. He hung with his bros--Kevin Striklin, Mason Alexander, and Chris Flynn, laughing, joking, drinking ... and, of course, hitting on and getting hit on by several, hot sorority girls throughout the night. It should be noted, however, that Jon did not `hit on' these girls; he took his relationship with Tess seriously--if, for any reason, to avoid her wrath the following day. The blonde Adonis did his best to push the girls hanging on his arms and around his neck onto his bros, who certainly had no qualms with fidelity. Kevin was always seemed to be the first to score at these events, but Chris was surely a close `second'. Like Jon, both were jocks and flawlessly handsome in their own rights. Where Kevin and Chris differed were `scores per night', with Kevin having dimples and charisma for days.

The President of the frat was the popular quarterback for the university's football team, Bradley van der Meer, a Senior, graduating in May and most likely headed to the Pros. At 6' 4", weighing 200 lbs., Brad had all-American good-looks, with blue eyes and light brown hair that shone golden in the sun. Of course, he was a demigod, with broad shoulders, muscles, and abs that made most girls (and their mothers) wet their panties at the mere mention of his name ... and Brad knew it, having an arrogant, sometimes hateful personality--eager to exploit anyone to advance his own interests. Nevertheless, he was popular with dudes for his athletic abilities and with babes and MILFs for his exceptional looks and sexual prowess.

Brad currently dated Anne, a Senior and Active in Kappa Kappa Gamma, who was there at the party that night. Prior to the party, however, the two had a `blow out' fight in Brad's room upstairs as a result of well-founded rumors regarding Brad having sex with a Tri-Delt girl. (The rumors were, in fact, true.) During the party, Brad and Anne maintained a `cool-calm' between themselves, meaning they were civil, feigning nothing was wrong to others. At one point around 2:00 a.m., Jon found himself alone, sitting in an armchair in the living room, nursing a drink--his friends gradually having found their respective `scores' and abandoning him. He was just about to call it a night, trying to get his courage up to face the subzero walk home, when a drunken Anne plopped down in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. Brad had gone to the restroom some time ago, leaving her waiting. Jon's eyes were the size of silver dollars, wondering how to get her out of his lap before Brad returned, but Anne wasn't making things easy. It was a `damned if you do -- damned if you don't' situation. Jon didn't want to risk offending her, fearing she might run to Brad, telling him some story, yet, by no means did Jon want to get caught with Anne in his lap--never mind the fact that several people were witnessing the situation then. With Anne literally mauling him, running her fingers through his hair, kissing and licking his neck, and whispering how sexy she thought he was and with Jon being physically weakened a bit by the booze and Anne being a dead weight on top of him, you could say Jon was pretty much fucked. Anne kissed his face, missing his lips only because Jon saw it coming and turned his face quickly. While her arms were wrapped around his neck, Jon held onto her, instinctively thinking she might fall off. Naturally, Brad returned right about that time, and a fight between Brad and Anne kicked-off in high gear, culminating in Brad carrying her outside, dropping her in the snow, and effectively sending her home in the freezing cold without even her coat.

By the time Brad came back inside the ΠΚΕ house, Jon was coming out of the cloakroom and heading for the backdoor through the living room, having not even taken the time to put on his coat yet. Brad, however, was having none of it. In his eyes, he'd been humiliated, but there were still a couple of unattached, hot chicks at the party yet, so Brad didn't want to appear too `uncool'. Being 6' 4" to Jon's 5' 11" and being the university's quarterback after all, Brad picked Jon up in his arms like a bag of flour and carried him to the sofa, where he plopped down with Jon in his lap. He whispered in Jon's ear, "You like fucking around with my whores, try this on, bitch." In front of everyone--to humiliate Jon--Brad began mauling the Sophomore--referring to him in feminine terms. With one big hand firmly grabbing Jon by his long, blonde hair, Brad asked the 18 or so present in the room, "Isn't she a hot babe??" eliciting pales of laughter, and with his other big hand, Brad cupped Jon's pec, adding, "Nice tits too!!" Then Brad began his mauling onslaught, kissing and licking Jon's neck and tonguing his ear, before pushing him off his lap and holding Jon's face flat against his crotch while humping it. "O-o-o-o, dudes!! She's hot for it!!!" One of Brad's friends, Luke Jost, grabbed Jon by the hips and feigned fucking his hard, round ass--of which he'd been well-endowed by God. Jon was humiliated--doubly so, feeling both Seniors' very large, very hard, jeans-covered cocks--and, being fair-skinned, he blushed crimson in shame.

Everyone still there in the living room laughed at Jon's expense, except one (hot) Kappa girl, who--after a few minutes--felt sorry for the blonde jock and told Brad and Luke to knock it off. Seeing an unattached, hot babe, Luke quickly dropped Jon's hips and moved-in on the girl. Brad leaned forward, grabbed Jon under the arms, and hoisted him onto the sofa next to him, draping his heavily-muscled arm around Jon's neck. "It's all good!" Brad told the onlookers. "Anytime she wants to suck my big, ole cock, she's entirely welcome!" Jon tried pushing himself off the sofa, but Brad's strong forearm pulled up against his neck, holding him down.

With people returning to their conversations, Brad ordered a pledge to bring he and Jon a couple of drinks, "And pledge! Make them strong! You bring me pussy drinks, and you'll be wearing them on your face!"

Jon tried begging off, saying, "Thanks, Brad, but I'm awfully tired, and..."

Brad cut him off. "Shut up. You are going nowhere. We are going to drink and talk about cunts--Anne's and yours. Were you planning on making out and having some lesbian sex later?? ...you with your pretty blonde hair?" Brad laughed.

"Brad, it wasn't what it looked like," but once again, the arrogant quarterback cut him off.

"So tell me `how it was', Jon-Jon ...because from my perspective, walking up behind you two, all I saw was a mass of long, brown hair, long, blonde hair and your hands all over my bitch. So please, enlighten me, buddy. Has she been fucking you on the side??"

The pledge brought them their drinks, and Brad turned his venom on the Freshman. "These had better be strong, cunt! Get your fuckin' face between Jon's legs until I decide if they are!" Defeated, the pledge sank to his knees between Jon's legs, laying his face on the blonde jock's crotch, while Brad tasted first his drink, then Jon's, handing Jon the stronger of the two. Jon felt the pledge's hot breath on top on his crotch, and his cock hardened. Talking into Jon's crotch, the pledge asked if he could return to his girlfriend, but having lost his own that night, Brad was in no mood to humor. "Shut the fuck up and keep your goddamned face on top of that cunt until I tell you otherwise!! Fuckin' maggot!!" The boy rested his arms over Jon's thighs and continued mouthing hot breaths onto Jon's hard cock. Brad grabbed the maggot's hands and placed them on Jon's ripped abs. "There," he said to Jon, maybe that'll take your attention off other bro's girlfriends, huh??" Then Brad grabbed a fistful of hair on the back of the pledge's head and rubbed his face into Jon's crotch. Amazingly, the pledge said nothing, but Jon felt his hands ever-so-slightly flex and squeeze his abs.

With Brad's strong arm around his neck again, Jon felt trapped. "This is so unnecessary, Brad."

"Shut the fuck up! I'll tell you what's fuckin' necessary or not." To anyone glancing over, it actually looked like friendly conversation between two frat bros...including the pledge face-down in another's lap. "Now, while the pledge is tonguing your cunt, tell me how long you've been fuckin' Anne behind my back. Because I'll tell you right now, the bitch is cold, but she was acting pretty goddamned familiar with you a while ago!" Brad laughed, adding, "...a lot hotter with you than she's been with me! So tell me...I've got to know...have you been fucking her with her cunt full of my cum??"

Jon felt the pledge subtly squeeze his abs as the boy's saliva seeped through the crotch of his jeans. Jon wanted to push the kid off, but he had Brad hanging on him, staring at him in the eyes with his icy glare a mere 4" away. The kid was so distracting, and Jon was grateful for the music playing when he felt the pledge moan into his crotch and press his face harder against Jon's cock. `What the fuck is going on??' Jon thought. "Look, Brad, Anne was drunk. She wasn't thinking. For all I know, she might have thought I was you, when she fell on top of me. I was holding her to keep her from falling off and hurting herself. It's all a big, drunken misunderstanding, don't you see??"

"You should have let her fall off and break her neck, the stupid cunt. Who needs them? Drink up! Cheers! Here's to cunts!" Brad finally smiled and rubbed Jon's chest with the hand of the heavy arm wrapped around his neck, and the two ΠΚΕ bros drank ...and drank. Brad warmed up and began talking about his chances at the Pros in a couple of months; he was a little nervous but overall confident.

The pledge's hands slid off Jon's abs and around his waist, dropping down under his big glutes, squeezing them and pressing his face harder into his crotch, and Jon felt the vibration of his moans against his throbbing cock. Jon was convinced his jeans were sopped--not only where the kid's open mouth lay but also above his heavily leaking cock, and again, Jon was thankful for the music and the fact he'd worn dark jeans. Kevin and Chris used to tease Jon he let off sex pheromones, as they got hard just standing near him sometimes, but Jon was certain they said this just to see his pale complexion burn crimson. The pledge's hands were digging down between his buttocks when Brad suddenly looked down and pushed the kid backwards onto the floor, ordering him to bring them two more strong drinks. The Freshman jock's face reflected a dazed, bewildered expression, seeming not to know who or where he was for a moment. "I s-a-i-d, go get us two more drinks, you stupid maggot!!! And make them stronger, cunt!!!" Still confused, the pledge scrambled to his feet to fetch the drinks.

There were less than ten dudes left in the living room, including Brad and Jon, by the time the maggot brought the next round of drinks. All these dudes--some ΠΚΕs and some unknowns--had struck-out for the night. Fortunately for the pledge, Brad dismissed the young jock, and he went in search of his girlfriend, who'd gone home--bored from other dudes hitting on her. Too bad for her, because her boyfriend's cock had never been harder!

Half-way through their third round of drinks--drinks Brad had concocted, the quarterback had to hold Jon upright on the sofa using his arm around Jon's neck, as he held the glass to Jon's lips, coaxing him to drink more of the foul-tasting mixture. By the time they'd finished, it was nearly 3 a.m., and most of the bros had made their way up to rooms (a fair number with pussy in tow), gone home, or passed out in the common areas. Indeed, two dudes were passed out in armchairs across the room. Jon's head was spinning, he felt abnormally warm, and he was unable to speak, and he was in no condition to walk home, which suited Brad just fine.

The four, main officers of the frat--the President, Vice President, Secretary, and Treasurer--were all afforded the luxury of having single rooms. Of 137 ΠΚΕ actives and pledges--the largest frat on campus--fully 100 of these boys were housed in the huge, old mansion and its two wings, added in the 1980s. Brad hoisted Jon off the sofa and hauled him up the main staircase--two flights to his third-floor, private room at the end of the hall in the original part of the mansion facing the street--all the time whispering "Whoa, buddy!" and "I gotcha, dude."

Coming from a wealthy, Chicago family, Brad's room was well-furnished, having a sofa, big screen TV, large desk, and queen-sized bed, among other furnishings. Brad hauled Jon over to the sofa then went across the room, turning a lamp on a dim setting. He dug some coke from its hiding place, threw some porn in his Blu-ray, and turned the TV on, minus its volume. Brad pulled a side table around, setup a line of coke, grabbed Jon by his hair, and held one side of his nose, ordering him to snort. Now, in addition to the GHB and Ecstasy with which Brad had spiked his drink, Jon had cocaine coursing through his system. Brad put the side table back, stripped Jon of his shirt, sat down, and pulled the blonde boy into his lap--Brad's hands and lips seemingly everywhere at once on Jon. Brad nosed his way through the long, thick blonde hair, tonguing Jon's ear, whispering, "Yeah, you fixed it so I wouldn't have pussy tonight, but you'll do just fine, won't you?"

Due to the GHB, Jon couldn't speak--his mind flying high with the drugs. As disoriented as he was, there was a part of Jon's mind telling him he was in danger, but the drugs kept that part of his mind in check. Brad licked and sucked on Jon's neck, driving Jon crazy. He even went as far as sucking on Jon's small, flat, pink nipple. Not himself, Jon clutched at the sucking head--his fingers tight in Brad's light brown hair. Coming back up for air, the quarterback tongued Jon's ear, purring, "You wanna be my real bro, right? ...my best bro, yeah?" At the same time, Brad unbuttoned Jon's jeans, groping the boy's cock through his white briefs. "You wanna please me, like everyone else, right? ...be my pretty girl tonight? All this pretty blonde hair and that big, round ass of yours... You think I haven't noticed you before? Fuck..." Brad's hot mouth abandoned Jon's ear, falling down over the boy's small, pink nipple again--licking and sucking. Jon had no strength, having no command over his arms and hands. He was simultaneously turned-on and repulsed--trapped in a shell, unable to say or do anything to stop the strong quarterback

Brad came off the tit and flipped Jon over, and laying him across this lap, Brad pushed Jon's low-riding Diesel jeans and white briefs up over the boy's hard, plump, smooth butt. "H-o-l-y fuck!" Brad whispered, stunned and amazed at the sight of Jon's full, awesome glutes. "Yeah, you'll do just fine tonight," Brad confirmed to himself. He flipped Jon back around, propping him upright on the sofa, though due to his condition, Jon slid down a ways, with his bare butt on the edge of the cushion. Then Brad stood, unbuttoning his shirt and jeans, quickly stripping down to a pair of red boxer briefs, before straddling Jon and hooking the front of his briefs under his bull-sized balls. Jon's face had never been anywhere remotely this near a cock ...and what a cock it was!!! It was the by far the biggest cock Jon had ever seen, and the thing was still growing--both in length and width! Even if he weren't drugged stupid, there was nowhere to move--not with his head pinned as it was against the back cushion. Besides, although a jock, Jon was no match for the 6' 4", ripped quarterback. What's more, the GHB coupled with Brad's seductive purr was having a weird `suggestive' effect on the blonde Adonis.

Brad grabbed Jon's hands and rubbed them across his abs, whispering, "You've always wanted to be a girl in this position, Jon-Jon, haven't you? You've dreamt of it... how lucky these girls are ...getting my stud-cum inside them ...forever ...getting the chance to please me ...to be one with me." Brad rubbed his huge cock--its head wet and sticky--down Jon's cheeks, under his cute nose, leaving a glistening trail of sticky goo over the handsome, Nordic face, while three, little green lights strategically placed signaled the recording of the blonde boy's descent. "Such a pretty, pretty girl you are, Jon-Jon..." Brad ran his fingers through Jon's long, silky. "Yeah... you wanna be my babe, don't you? ...my special babe... you and me, Jon... you and me--one..." Brad took one of Jon's hands and pushed its fingers through his thick forest of light brown pubes--their soft luxurious feeling being noted in Jon's addled mind, and Jon spread his fingers through them. Between the drugs and gravity, Jon's sweet mouth hung open--his pink lips wet with saliva. Brad pulled Jon's hands around his hips and onto his own, big, round glutes, leaning forward and smothering Jon's nose and mouth in his soft, dense bush--humping Jon's face with his thick shaft and rotating his butt in a circle. "You're a beautiful babe, Jon... I've had my eyes on you for a long time, girl..."

Then Brad felt Jon's hands squeeze his hard glutes on their own, as a long, wet tongue began lapping circles through his pubes. Brad moaned and ground his pelvis into Jon's beautiful face. "Oh-h-h, y-e-a-h... that's it, girl... make l-o-v-e to me," Brad whispered, encouraging the blonde stud. "You n-e-e-d me more than a-n-y-thing, Jon..." the quarterback moaned.

Finally, Brad leaned back, reached over to the side table, and produced a small, white rock of coke he stuck inside one of Jon's nostrils. Holding it there, he told Jon to sniff hard, and after a bit of coaxing, Jon snorted the bump. A rush pulsed through Jon's brain and, combined with the Ecstasy and GHB, Jon felt a hot wave flow over his body. His mind was suddenly on fire. With Brad's naked form straddling his own, the skin-on-skin contact sent a crazed, hungry, alive feeling through Jon's brain. He'd regained control of his hands, as they were rubbing up-and-down Brad's big, muscular thighs. One sensation seemed to stimulate another in the blonde boy's drugged-up brain. The soft down coating of hair covering the hard thighs fascinated Jon, and he slid his hands around the backs of the hard posts, rubbing, feeling, searching--so different from a girl's.

"Stick your tongue out, babe... Come on, now, stick that pretty tongue out for me," Brad coaxed. The effects of the drugs coupled with Brad's soft, slow, seductive voice helped to make Jon compliant, moldable, and the blonde stud stuck his tongue out toward the huge slab of meat. Fully hard now, Brad's thick cock measured 13" in length, having a 3" diameter cockhead that glistened in a layer of rich precum. Brad laid the fat head on the warm, wet, outstretched tongue, and, as he did so, a thick bubble of white goo belched from its eye, rolled down, and pooled on Jon's tongue below. Lifting his cock back from the receptive tongue, a single strand of cum hung in the air, connecting the juicy cockhead to Jon's wet tongue. "Swallow, girl..." Brad softly cooed, "Y-e-a-h... Take my seed inside you..." Jon withdrew his tongue and rubbed it against the roof of his mouth, tasting the gift before taking it inside his belly. "We're one now, babe," Brad whispered.

Without any coaxing or direction, Jon opened his mouth and extended his tongue, wanting more of the rich offering. Of course, this wasn't Jon, wanting another dude's cum on his tongue; it was the effect of all the drugs and Brad's getting inside his head. Due to his exceptional good-looks, Jon had always been a pussy magnet--since Grade School, really. He was totally into girls, having lost his virginity at age 16 to a cheerleader in his class. He was the valedictorian of his graduating class and total jock throughout junior high and high school, playing on the football and baseball teams. In fact, Jon was the quarterback of his high school team beginning his Junior year--he was that good. Like most teenage jocks--and indeed Jon was still as much, being 19--he spent too much time with his 8" cock, fantasizing about the chicks. Of course, there were a few times Jon found himself rubbing the pad of his finger across his smooth, pink rosebud, pressing just the first little bit inside, but this didn't happen that often. You see, Jon's beautiful, hard rump attracted attention of both girls and boys, and when he was still an innocent 15-year-old, a Senior member of the football team humiliated the Nordic beauty by pushing his face against the shower wall and finger-fucking his cherry hole in front of several other members of the team--Jon's grunts keeping time with the long, soapy middle finger rapidly punching in-and-out his surprised orifice. For reasons the blonde jock failed to understand, on rare occasions, Jon found himself knuckle-deep inside his smooth rosebud, recalling that dude, while trying his best to envision a girl--any girl.

Now, extending tongue again, Jon eagerly rolled it around the big cockhead, scooping up a mouthful of its thick goo, savoring its taste a moment, then swallowing--with Brad all-the-time cooing and running his fingers through the jock's long, blonde hair. "That's it, pretty girl...s-u-c-k your man's cock... F-u-c-k, you look so h-o-t with my big cock in your mouth, girl... Oh y-e-a-h, you fuckin' n-e-e-d my sweet cum, babe..." Jon mouthed the big cockhead, sucking the thick, sticky juice directly from its eye. He cupped and squeezed Brad's hard glutes, as he took the meat inside his warm, wet mouth, instinctively rubbing its underside with his tongue, coaxing more of its seed to flow. Brad, who'd been guiding this huge meat with one hand while petting Jon's hair with the other, now gripped the top of the sofa with both hands and began slowly pumping his hips forward and backward, driving three-to-four inches of his giant cock inside Jon's hungry mouth. "Oh, y-e-a-h, you're a hungry whore, aren't you, girl?"

Thanks to the drugs and Brad's manipulation, Jon had reversed the roles of his experiences and fantasies. In his clouded mind, he was now the `girl'...the `babe'--just like Brad was saying--and this girl was hungry for the king-sized cock in front of her. The blonde jock-boy rubbed and groped Brad's butt with one hand, sliding his other hand around front to run his fingers through the soft, dense bush of light brown pubes. A scent filled Jon's brain, making him feel even higher than he already was. His hand came upon the huge, thick root of the cock, and Jon molded his hand around its warm, silky skin--his fingers far from being able to wrap around it. As he sucked and licked its juicy head, Jon marveled at how much heavier the huge cock felt, compared to his own.

"S-u-c-k that cock, girl... W-i-d-e-r, babe... you can do it..." Brad moaned, picking up speed, punching into the opening of Jon's throat. "Oh my god, you're so fucking good!" Jon opened as wide as he could, wanting much more of the huge cock inside him. If he'd been all-there, he'd have heard not only Brad moaning, but himself as well--hungry for this cock and its thick, salty nectar--wanting to please the quarterback-god.

`No gag reflex,' Brad realized. `The bitch has no fucking gag reflex!' Jon hands rubbed the length of the backs of Brad's thighs, squeezing his hard glutes and pulling Brad deeper inside. When Brad devised this punishment around 2:30 a.m., he'd only intended to knock Jon down about 400 places for making the moves on Anne (or so Brad firmly believed). He took great pleasure, knowing Jon would be forever secretly humiliated by tonight's events--that years later, Jon would lay in bed with his wife, secretly knowing he too had sucked cock. `After all,' Brad had imagined earlier, `I'll likely never see this cunt again, after I graduate in May'. The absence of a gag reflex--a rarity, indeed--was, however, a total game-changer. Jon didn't know it, but he was a natural-born cocksucker, and Brad intended to take advantage of this for the remainder of the semester...at least.

It was not without effort that Jon sucked Brad's giant cock, though. While tears streamed nonstop down his cheeks, snot ran just as profusely from his nose and around his widely-stretched lips. These fluids mixed with the never-ending supply of precum slipping from the corners of Jon's lips to form a thick, white, frothy mixture that flowed over his chin, down his neck, and across Jon's amazing pecs.

Brad pummeled seven inches of cock in-and-out of Jon's hungry mouth--four inches of which were being exquisitely squeezed by Jon's warm, spasming throat. `No fuckin' bitch would ever let me do this to her!!' Brad thrilled to himself, `but fags...fags were a whole, other story!!!' Brad didn't give a fuck if Jon was straight, bi, or gay: he was just thankful his cameras were on, as he fully-intended to use Jon the rest of the semester! With Jon moaning around his thick shaft and his throat massaging the massive cockhead, Brad felt the moment of no return quickly approaching, and just in time, he yanked his cock from the hungry throat and shot load-after-load across Jon's handsome, Nordic face. Great globs of white cum splattered across his face and into his long, blonde hair. Ropes of the stuff landed on his forehead, in his left eye, on his nose, over his dimpled cheeks ... and, tellingly, into his gaping mouth and onto his outstretched tongue. Brad even ran his cock through Jon's beautiful long, blonde hair when he finished.

Grabbing a fistful of Jon's hair, Brad directed the jock-boy in cleaning his cock. "Stick your tongue out, girl..." Brad guided Jon's handsome face alongside his huge slab of meat. "Lick the cock... That's it, lick the cock clean, baby... Get all that cum in your pretty mouth and swallow... Get all my babies inside you, girl... Y-e-a-h, that's it... Oh-h-h-h, f-u-c-k! Lick those balls, bitch!" It couldn't have played out better for Brad.

Jon couldn't have told you his name--he was reeling so high from the drugs. Jon was now a compilation of every chick who'd ever sucked his cock (and there were plenty). He was a girl, and in truth, hadn't he always wondered what it would like on the other end of his cock?? Over the years, hadn't Jon listened to buddies describe different girls sucking their cocks? ...Then later, in the locker room, hadn't he noticed these same, big cocks and wondered what the girls tasted? Hadn't he noticed Brady's big cock--for example--countless times, swinging between his legs in the showers and wondered what Kim tasted when it was in her mouth? Now, though, Jon was Kim ...he was Anne ...he was Tess...and many more ...rolled into a single, cock-hungry whore.

Brad stepped off the sofa, panting--his broad pecs glistening with sweat. "Oh-h-h-h, girl! ...you did g-o-o-d, girl ...really good..."

After waiting a moment to catch his breath, Brad hoisted Jon up and threw him face-down over the side of the bed, with his hard, pert, round ass right on the edge. Stepping back to take in the sight, once again Brad was stunned by the truly breathtaking vision--the pale, smooth globes so full...and eatable ... and Brad's cock began filling with blood again. It was--by far--the best ass Brad had ever seen--female or male--and he felt his knees weaken, as he dropped to the floor behind the big, hard glutes. Brad grabbed a big globe in each hand and spread them apart, revealing Jon's smooth, beautiful, pale pink rosebud, hidden in the tight, narrow crevice ...and Brad's face fell forward--his hot, wet mouth open and hungry. No, Brad had never eaten ass--never--but this was no ass: this was the prettiest cunt he'd ever seen, at least that's what Brad's brain was telling him ...but could it have been Jon's fault? Remember the pledge who Brad had made keep his face in Jon's crotch? Remember the Senior on Jon's high school football team who finger-fucked Jon in the shower? Perhaps--unknown to the handsome, Nordic, stud and to his misfortune--the beautiful, little rosebud between Jon's smooth, round globes emitted pheromones or a subtle scent of some kind that played with the minds of certain susceptible straight dudes, confusing them--signaling the jock-boy actually had something else between his legs. Whatever the case, Brad held those big, tight globes apart and had half his tongue going in-and-out of Jon's pink hole, moaning and thinking this was the best pussy he'd ever seen or tasted. Not only did Brad moan, but Jon, too, moaned--loudly--pushing his butt backward on the quarterback's handsome face, too drugged-up to understand what was happening or why.

The longer Brad's face spent between Jon's round glutes, the harder Brad's cock became, and soon, the quarterback was ready for round two. However, having no finesse or sensitivity whatsoever, the 6' 4" quarterback punched his long, thick middle finger--without lubrication of any kind--through the little rosebud, shoving it all the way inside. Drugged though he was, Jon's eyes flew open, and he let out a cry of bloody murder. "Shut the fuck up!" Brad whispered gruffly. "It's fuckin' four in the morning!" Of course, Jon didn't understand what he said...or anything else, for that matter. Eager to fuck, Brad kept his big, middle finger shoved up Jon's butt and, in fact, tried pushing a second finger inside as well. Jon's yelling only increased in volume, as his little anus tried stretching around Brad's thick fingers. Jon even tried pushing himself off the bed, when suddenly one of the boys in the next room pounded on the wall. For a second, time stopped for Brad: he couldn't get caught like this. Jon's continued yelling caused Brad to yank his fingers from the little hole, stand, lean over the bed, and grab Jon by his long hair, growling, "Shut. the. fuck. up!"

Brad was beyond angry ...and hard. There would have to be another place and time for breeding this cunt, but Brad determined he would, in fact, take it. For now, standing above Jon's hot, fucking ass, Brad yanked on his awesome 13" cock ...and he continued yanking, imagining the incredible fuck Jon's pussy promised to be, until finally, Brad began firing. The first shot went flying straight up Jon's nude back--between his broad shoulders and into his blonde hair. Following his broad shoulders downward, Jon's back gradually narrowed to a small waist, and it was here that Brad pointed his second shot, splattering in the small of the stud's back. The remaining shots all splattered over Jon's smooth, beautiful globes--the white cum rolling over them in all directions ...with some seeping between tight crevice, running down and across the pale pink rosebud.

End -- Chapter 1

 

-- Chapter 2 --

or Hangovers Are a Fuckin' Bitch

A little past 8 a.m., someone was crouched over Jon, shaking him awake. As his consciousness began crawling out from the dream he was having, Jon found himself staring up at the weathered face of Chet, the old man who cleaned the house. "Go home, clean up, and sleep it off, boy," the man said flatly. Over the past 12 years cleaning this frat house, Chet had seen everything, and what he saw this morning certainly didn't surprise the old man, who stood and walked to the bathroom to begin cleaning the mess in there.

`What the fuck!' Jon thought. It took a few moments for him to realize he was laying in the hallway outside Brad's room, wearing nothing but his jeans ...which were just barely on his hips and completely open--his cock and ash blonde pubes exposed to the world. His shoes and the rest of his clothes stood in a pile nearby, and on the door above him read a handwritten sign, saying, "Best cocksucker for miles!" with an arrow pointing down. `Oh my god, no' Jon thought, stunned and bewildered--his head still spinning with the drugs in his system. He had images of a penis--not yet recalling the events of just a handful of hours previous--but there was no time to think about this now. Now, Jon needed to get dressed and get out of there. He grabbed his shirt from the pile and stood--wobbly on his legs with eyes going in-and-out of focus. His brain seemed incredibly `dense', as Jon was having difficulty with the simplest of tasks. He managed getting his clothes on, except his briefs which he stuffed in his pocket, ripping the sign off the door and shoving it in his other pocket. Jon was fortunate, at least, that it was early on a Sunday morning: aside from Chet, everyone else was still passed out in their rooms, on sofas, and even on the floor of the cloakroom, where he found his coat and hustled out of the ΠΚΕ house.

In the overcast, frozen morning, Jon trudged his way home through snow-covered sidewalks yet to be scooped--the bitter wind snapping his brain a bit from the haze in which it found itself, being replaced by a certain unease and the beginnings of panic, as select images from the preceding night briefly flashed across his memory. By the time, he'd climbed the stairs to his second-floor room, Jon was so nervous his hands shook, as he fumbled with the keys. Yeah, he'd been a little `nervous' before some football and baseball games, but otherwise, Jon was an easy-going dude--calm and cool.

All this ended, when Jon unlocked his door and looked in the mirror above his dresser. He had dried, flaky white patches on his forehead, the sides of his face, and his neck, and his neck-length, blonde hair contained ugly mats of Brad's dried cum. Other images from the preceding night flashed in his mind, and Jon quickly stripped, now in full-panic mode. He took the mirror off the wall, set it on the floor, stood above it, and pulled his beautiful globes apart. Time stood still, and, for a long minute, Jon couldn't breathe. The narrow crevice between his smooth, round glutes was caked in the dried, white stuff. The backs of his balls were caked with it ...and so was his private place. While his breath caught tight in his lungs unable to escape, Jon recalled episode of pain during the night and was (errantly) convinced Brad had also taken his manhood away. For the first time, since his appendix ruptured at age 12, Jon began crying--not just crying, sobbing. He staggered to his bed, crumbled down on it, and covered himself with the comforter. Inconsolable, he curled into a fetal position--tears and snot running over his stunningly handsome face onto the bedding below.

Jon's mind raced. There had been the sign on Brad's door: did Brad intend on ruining him?? What had he done to Brad?? Oh yes, there'd been the incident with Anne. If Brad ruined his rep, not only would he be expelled from the frat, but every other frat on campus would also hear about Jon--what with Brad being so famous and Greeks being so interconnected. There was also Tess: she had a temper and would feel humiliated. If she found out, every sorority girl on campus would soon know Jon was a fag. With a few others from his hometown at the university, there was even a slight possibility word would get back home. Jon would be forced to go to school elsewhere, and how on earth would he justify this to his parents?? All was lost. He blamed himself. He'd let this happen. He'd ruined himself ...and his manhood. He would never be the same again.

Jon's mind simply wouldn't stop. He remembered he still had some codeine from last summer's wisdom teeth removal, so Jon climbed out of bed long enough to take two of these pills, returning to the warmth and temporary safety he found underneath his comforter. Eventually, Jon drifted off to sleep, waking several hours later to the ringing of his cellphone. He let it go to voicemail and laid in bed, now awake and worrying again. Finally, after nearly an hour, Jon reluctantly once again climbed from bed, retrieving his cell, and crawling back in bed with it. It was now 4:30 p.m.

The call had been from one of his best friends in ΠΚΕ, Chris Flynn, a very handsome dude, standing 6' 1", weighing 165 lbs., and having gray eyes, dark auburn hair, and dimples that made the babes wet their panties. Yeah, Chris was a hottie, with broad shoulders and a ripped set of abs to boot. His message was jovial, interjected with laughter: "Hey, where the fuck are you?? Kevin and I are here at Bergman Hall, studying--been here since 2. Are you still in bed? Hung over??" Then in a hushed voice, Chris whispered, "Hey, you want us to come over and fuck your hot, blonde pussy out of bed?? I got a big ole, hard cock with your name on it, buddy! You say the word, and I'm up in that big booty of yours!" Chris and Kevin laughed, then Chris continued, "Seriously, where are you? Come study with us, and later, we'll get some dinner. Call me."

A day ago, Jon would've laughed at the message, but today, his stomach sank, envisioning Chris' hot body, fucking him doggy-style in his own bed. He tried blocking it--only resulting in adding Kevin's hot body to the image, with that stud's big cock sliding in-and-out of mouth, while Chris fucked him doggy-style. Jon began weeping ...as his cock stiffened. `You are so fucked, dude! What the fuck is going on with me?? What the fuck has happened??' Jon wondered over-and-over again.

Jon had text messages too. The one from Tess at 12:10 p.m. read, "Hey, I'm feeling a little better--not as bad as yesterday but still pretty cruddy. You'd better stay away, or you'll catch it too...despite what you think. Call me when you have a chance and tell me about the party."

There was also a text from another best bros and fellow ΠΚΕ, Kevin Striklin. Jon couldn't help reflecting on Kevin's hot, muscular body. The dude stood 6' 2" and weighed 170 lbs., and besides his broad shoulders and incredible abs, Kevin had the bluest eyes Jon had ever seen. Put all that together with Kevin's shiny black, straight, medium-length hair and dimples for days, and you had an image of a real Adonis. Immediately, Jon reassured himself he was only imagining what girls must see. Then, of course, the image from earlier--of Kevin feeding Jon his cock--returned, with the Nordic jock trying to block it again. `Have I thought these things before?' Jon worried, second-guessing his masculinity. Focusing on the text from Kevin, again, it read, "Get your cunt to Bergman Hall! We've got studying to do, bitch! Maybe later, I'll shove your pretty face against the wall and fuck that sweet, blonde pussy of yours! My big cock's hard just thinking about it!" Their friendship was a bit odd, with Kevin always dominating quiet, cool, Jon. Had Kevin not been such a stud--fucking his way through the Kappa house, you'd almost think Kevin was a bit territorial with Jon, grabbing the blonde's hard, round glutes, guiding Jon around with his hand in the small of the blonde jock's back, and--notably--making decisions on Jon's behalf. The curious thing is why Jon let Kevin do these things, never raising a fuss or saying anything. Kevin was Jon's leader.

Jon texted Tess, saying, "Sorry. Bad party. Did shots and am paying for it, bigtime. Will call you tonight. Glad you're feeling a bit better. Love you, Tess." Jon turned the phone off and closed his eyes, and soon--with the effects of the codeine taking hold again--Jon slept for another four hours, waking at 8:40 p.m.

When Jon woke this time, he had a voice message from Kevin ...and a text from Brad. Jon panicked--his heart beating wildly, as he opened the text, which read, "Hey COCKSUCKER! How are you doing today?? Seriously, you gave me the *best* blowjob I've ever had! I'm not kidding!!! Take a look at your porn star performance. Sure hope it doesn't get out! Imagine how many ΠΚΕ cocks you'll have down your throat if it does?? ...but maybe you'd like that, huh? So, here's the deal... I call or text: you come. You drop *everything*. The rest of the semester, you're my bitch...my cumdump. Why? Because you're so goddamned good!!! Take a look." Jon's panic attack worsened, as he clicked on the video. There he was ...his mouth stretched so wide, bobbing and twisting on Brad's humongous cock. How had he done that?? ...get something so fucking huge in his mouth and throat?? And Jon was kneading Brad's big glutes, like some cock-hungry whore! It was gross...with ropes of precum, snot, and tears flowing off his chin! The blonde jock began crying at the grand finale ...where his face was covered in the thick, white ropes of cum--his mouth open and tongue out, trying to catch Brad's seed. It was sickening, and Jon sobbed uncontrollably. So... this was how it would be until Brad graduated in May: the blonde jock-boy would be Brad's faggot. Jon began dry-heaving.

After laying quietly in bed another 30 minutes or so, Jon grabbed the phone to listen to Kevin's message. "Hey, bro, we're at Pizza Oven eating the best, fucking pizza ever!" Then Kevin switched tones, using his most seductive voice--the tone he regularly used on so many sorority girls, "Don't you wish you were here ...on the floor ...between my legs, sucking my big, ole cock." Laughter erupted in the background, as Kevin continued, "Y-e-a-h, babe, I'll bet you'd like that, huh?? ...having my big, ole cock between your pretty lips ...rubbing my big balls ...slobbering on my cock ...and best of all, sucking my babies down your belly." Jon heard Chris in the background, announcing, "I get him after you!" And as though he'd said nothing queer, Kevin ended, light-heartedly saying, "Anyway, call us, bro!" Before today, all the graphic, jocular, faggy stuff Kevin and Chris dished-out never bothered Jon--it never really even `registered' with him. Why would it? Jon always had girlfriends, he played football and baseball, he worked-out, he had a dirt bike back home--things straight boys do. Yeah, he `got' that some people thought he was good-looking, but he didn't think he was anything exceptional--although, in fact, he most certainly was. And, yeah, he knew had hard, round glutes that seemed to draw attention from both sexes, but they were like his blue eyes: he had no control over what nature had given him. In truth, he was greatly embarrassed by the attention his hard buttocks seemed to draw ...during football practice, in the dugout, and most especially, in the locker room and shower ...but Jon endured it, ignoring it as best he could. Now, however... now that he'd seen himself sucking cock--whoring himself on a cock, Jon's mind unwilling received his bros' graphic messages, as he closed his eyes and slid his hand under the comforter...across his solid six-pack...and around his hard, 8" cock--envisioning himself on the dirty floor of Pizza Oven, rubbing Kevin's muscular thighs, and sucking his big cock--just like he'd whored himself on Brad's huge cock. Then, the unwanted fantasy took an even worse turn: Jon was on his knees in the aisle of Pizza Oven, whoring himself on Kevin's big cock, while Chris fucked him doggy-style and girls watched-on. Tears slipped out Jon's closed eyelids, rolling over his temples and into his silky, blonde hair, as he fingered his taint, jacked his big cock, and began firing load-after-load of hot, white cum across his abs and pecs.

As he swallowed another codeine, the message `I am so fucked' looped continuously through Jon's brain.

End -- Chapter 2

 

 

-- Chapter 3 --

or How Jon Became the Life of the Party

Three blocks from the university's epicenter stood Bergman Hall, an old building, built in 1887 as the university's original hospital and medical school. When the university built its current, ever-expanding hospital and medical school two miles away in 1926, it converted the various rooms and open wards in the building into classrooms and offices. Over the decades, however, the different schools within the university that had used the building--e.g., the Psychology Department, the Education Department, and so on--had built their own newer, bigger facilities, leaving old Bergman Hall all but abandoned--now housing the offices of random Graduate Student T.A.s. At one point, one of the second-floor, open wards with its high, Victorian ceilings had been converted to a study hall--a long, open room with big, heavy, wooden tables on either side of a center aisle, ending at a long-unused fireplace. It was a quiet place, offering tall windows you could actually open in nice weather (or when the boiler was set too high). At some point, the Greeks had discovered the place, and, by word of mouth over the years, it had been more or less commandeered by the Greeks. (At least one would think so, considering the large number of students sitting at the long tables wearing sweatshirts bearing Î KΣ, TKΣ, KKÎ", ZÎ Î', ΧΩ, and ΘÎ"Χ (and on and on) and considering how many of these students seemed to know each other, which, at a large university, is somewhat unusual.

At one of these tables, on this subzero, late Monday afternoon, Jon sat studying with his bros, Kevin and Chris, across the table. It'd been a weekend Jon wished had never occurred or, at the very least, one he could erase from his memory. It was obvious--so far--that Brad had kept the matter to himself, and Jon's only hope was Anne getting back together with Brad, such that Brad would forget all about his threat. He'd watched the video clip several times now, making himself sick to his stomach ...and his cock hard. Jon had never imagined sucking cock or taking it up the ass, though something gnawed at him.

The three boys planned to study at Bergman Hall until 5:30 p.m., when they'd break for dinner--Jon going back to his room, Kevin and Chris heading back to the ΠΚΕ house. At 5:05, however, Jon's phone dinged indicating a new text. He looked at his phone, and his heart sank--his fair cheeks blushing a dark pink. The message from Brad read, "Hey girl, I'm in my room, feeling horny. How about you? Are you somewhere, thinking of how great my big cock tastes?? (I couldn't give a shit if you are.) My room. NOW."

Chris was deep in his reading, but Kevin--always curious--was watching, noting the odd look of embarrassment on Jon's handsome face. "What the fuck's wrong? Tess send you a pic of her fingering her beaver? Let me see." Jon quickly put the phone in his pocket, while Kevin continued, "Why won't you let me fuck her, Jon?? I'd let you watch. Hell, I'd even let you hold my cock and guide it into her!" Chris laughed out loud, causing not so friendly stares from other tables.

Jon couldn't look at either Kevin or Chris. Both had a way of seeing right through Jon, with their prying questions. Putting his books and papers in his backpack, Jon stammered, "It's my mom. It's about my grandma. I gotta go, so I can call her." Standing, he put his coat on and looked across the table at Kevin. The look on the black-haired Adonis justified to Jon his avoidance of eye contact, as Kevin stared disbelievingly into Jon's eyes--a sneer across his face. Flustered, Jon added, "Whatever, dude. We were close, okay?" Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, Jon turned and left.

Outside, walking in the bitterly cold wind, Jon shook--not from the cold but, rather, from terror. His mind was a blizzard of thoughts. He thought of Tess, who he hadn't seen since Saturday night--her flu turning into a nasty sounding cold. God, how Jon wished he were heading to meet her. Subconsciously procrastinating, Jon decided to drop his things off at the boarding house, but no sooner was he climbing the stairs to his second-floor room than his phone dinged with another message from the university quarterback, "Where the FUCK are you?? Should I call Mason, Chris, or Kevin??" A third text was a video with Jon laying over Brad's bed--his round ass covered in thick ropes of white cum and Brad pulling his cheeks apart to expose Jon's cum-covered rosebud.

Jon took several deep breaths, staving off the sensation he was having of dry heaves, then climbed the remainder of the stairs to his room, where he quickly replied, "Dropped books off at room. On way now." Jon ran most of the way to the ΠΚΕ house--sometimes on sidewalks not yet scooped of their 13" snow covering--and made his way inside, not stopping to talk to frat bros, merely nodding and quickly making his way to the staircase, where he ran the two flights to Brad's room, praying the whole way Brad hadn't called or texted his friends.

Brad answered his door dressed only in a pair of nylon shorts and flip-flops--his huge cock sticking out the leg of the shorts. Slapping Jon upside the head hard, he shouted, "Next time, when I say `NOW', I mean you come directly here! ...no fucking off to your apartment or whatever hole you live in! Got it??"

"Yeah, I got it," Jon mumbled. His teeth chattered uncontrollably--not a result of the cold outside but, rather, his nerves--as, on some level, despite his intention to reason with Brad, Jon knew the quarterback would most likely force him to do something against which he was raised nor had any desire. Jon was taken aback by this physiological manifestation of his fear--that is, his constantly clicking teeth--having never had such a reaction before. The blonde jock-stud managed to get out, "Y-y-you didn't c-c-call my friends, d-d-did you?"

Brad sneered and laughed at Jon's nervousness, insulting him further, adding, "You're pathetic, Swenson... No, I didn't contact your bros and tell them what a fucking c-o-c-k-s-u-c-k-e-r you are ...t-h-i-s time! ...but go ahead and test me next time, though--I'm serious, dude!" Brad sneered, "Just see if I don't send them one of these clips of you! ...because, r-e-a-l-l-y, I don't mind sharing you're fucking a-w-e-s-o-m-e deep throating skills! And Kevin...Kevin has one of the biggest fucking mouths I know!" Brad paused before adding, "Actually, the more I think about it, the more I'm inclined to believe it'd help you out--out of the closet--and build your skills. You see?? I'm thoughtful that way! Don't let anyone convince you I don't think of others before my own interests!" Brad laughed at Jon's humiliation and torment.

Still chattering, Jon saw his opportunity to try to reason with Brad. "S-s-so Brad... um...about that...I-I-I kind of wanted to talk to you... You're mistaken. I-I-I'm not a fag, you see? I've got a girlfriend, and you've got a girlfriend. A-a-and Brad, I-I-I'm sorry about the confusion over Anne falling into my lap. I-I-It really wasn't what you think you saw. It wasn't, Brad! It rea--"

Brad cutting him off, yelling, "Listen, faggot! I don't really care what you two were up to now!" Jon cringed at Brad's yelling, knowing it could be heard by anyone next door or in the hall, but Brad's tone shifted, recalling how good the blonde stud's throat felt. "Y-e-a-h, I did Saturday night, but not now. See, Sweet Cheeks, you have a very r-a-r-e gift! NO gag reflex! ...ZERO, baby!" Brad chuckled. "Y-e-a-h, fucking pretty boy, I should've guessed you were a cock-hound a l-o-n-g time ago! Isn't always the `pretty' ones who turn out to be fags?"

Jon tried interrupting, but Brad shoved him backward onto his bed. As he sat back upright, the blonde jock felt the dry lump forming in his throat along with tears in his eyes, as he bravely fought against the urge to cry that suddenly swept over him. "You've got it wrong!" Jon managed, the corners of his mouth pulling down as his emotions overwhelmed him. "I'm not gay, goddamn it!" Then he broke--the convulsive sobbing, coming from deep within him, blubbering repeated, "I'm not gay! I'm not gay!"

"You shut that shit up right now!" Brad yelled. "Anyone can walk right through that door, and what are you going to say??" When Jon continued crying, Brad hauled-off and slapped him again. "Get a fucking grip!" Then bending down in Jon's face and grabbing a handful of his long, blonde hair, Brad growled, "Keep bawling, and you'll be the house bitch, not just mine. Think! ...and man-up for Christ's sake!" The quarterback let go of Jon's hair and leaned back up. He grabbed a pair of dirty briefs off the sofa and threw them in Jon's face, muttering, "Clean your face and get a fucking grip!"

Grabbing his desk chair, Brad strutted over to the door and propped the chair under the knob. While Jon was trying to calm down and get himself under control, wiping his face unintentionally with both the front and back of the dirty briefs, Brad rummaged inside his closet, came back in the room, and got a can of Sprite from his fridge. Standing at his dresser with his back to Jon, the 6' 4" quarterback dropped two, small bottles on the dresser's top, opened the Sprite, and spiked it with GHB. Putting the GHB away, Brad took the soda to Jon and leaned against his desk, staring incredulously at the handsome jock. "My god, I'm going to take those as tears of joy! ...like, you couldn't wait to be alone with me again, could you?" Jon drank the soda, trying to ignore Brad's comments.

Brad had hoped to break and humiliate the Nordic stud without the use of drugs and with the knowledge anyone could barge inside the room any moment ...as his best friend, Taylor, so frequently did. However, the quarterback was horny, and it seemed Jon would need more time to accept his role as the quarterback's cocksucker. Calmly and quietly, Brad resumed, "So, as you know, there are no locks on these doors. The only two things you've got going for you are the chair under the knob there and the thick walls of this old house. All the same, we're going to need to use our 6" voices...that is, unless you wanna suck a lot of cocks tonight." Brad chuckled. "You know, I've gotta say you've got me hard just seeing you like this, baby girl! Look it!" Brad pushed the flimsy nylon shorts off his hips, letting them fall down his beautiful, long legs and pool around his flip-flops. His huge, 13" cock flipped upward, standing hard and straight at a 120-degree angle--it's head already glistening with excitement.

Jon looked away, drinking the soda, trying to pretend he hadn't seen the giant cock he knew he'd soon be sucking. The more he drank, the more the young jock relaxed--having eaten nothing since breakfast. As he finished the Sprite, Jon noticed his peripheral vision was a little fuzzy--something he attributed to his crying jag--and he wiped his eyes again with the dirty briefs.

Still leaning against his desk, Brad began slowly jacking his huge cock, seductively saying, "Y-e-a-h... you sucked this baby like a fuckin' porn star! ...and you couldn't get enough of it, running your hands over my ass like a starved cheerleader!" He paused, slowly rubbing up-and-down the hungry cock, "When you pledged a year and a half ago, I wasn't here much, what with team doing so well and going to the Orange Bowl, but when I was here, I thought, `Man, that fucker's quite the handsome jock-boy, but what's with all the pretty hair?' Then I saw your ass, and I thought, `Ho-ho-ho! Cunt or not, if he didn't have those broad shoulders and muscles, I'd be all-up-in that! ...tappin' that sweet ass six ways to Sunday!' What a fuckin' idiot I am to have let those shoulders and muscles throw me off your scent, because, hands down, you are the best cocksucker ever ...and I mean that, girl. I really do."

Now, under the influence of the GHB, Jon was unaware he openly stared at the giant cock--hypnotized by Brad's low voice and the cockhead's weeping eye. Brad strutted toward the Nordic stud on the bed and leaned down, sticking the bottle of poppers under one of Jon's nostrils while holding the other closed. "Close your mouth and breathe through your nose, Jon. No, close your mouth. Close your mouth and breathe through your nose. That's it," Brad purred. "Again. Again. That's it. Breathe through your nose again, Jon. Good boy. Again. That's it. One more time, Jon. That's a good boy."

With Jon's head reeling from the combination of GHB and poppers, Brad lifted the young stud's chin in one hand and ran his fingers through the long, silky, blonde hair with the other. Looking up--across the quarterback's ripped abs, over the amazing pecs, and finally, into Brad's strikingly handsome face--Jon was in awe of the 6' 4" stud ...and in awe of the giant manhood. Adding to the effect of the drugs was Brad's touch--his fingers running through Jon's hair, his thumb stroking the blonde's smooth cheek--and Jon was overwhelmed by a desire to reciprocate the touch...to feel this beautiful god...reaching up and rubbing his hand over the eight-pack abs. His nostrils flared, inhaling more of the quarterback's naked scent, and Jon felt a certain warmth rising inside, a certain desire.

Brad broke the long silence, murmuring, "What a face... so fuckin' handsome... Such beautiful, blue eyes..." After another long pause, Brad stopped holding Jon's chin and stuck his finger inside the blonde stud's open mouth--his pink lips naturally sealing around the invader, while he continued staring upward. For a few minutes, Brad slid his long finger slowly and hypnotically in-and-out Jon's hot, wet, sucking mouth before finally withdrawing it, and, cupping the back Jon's head, Brad pulled the handsome, Nordic face into his soft bush of light brown pubes.

"Breathe me in, baby..." Brad heard the blonde inhale, then felt him exhale--the warm, moist breath pushing against his groin. "Oh-h-h yeah... t-h-a-t's it... breathe me in, Jon..." Brad purred.

Jon was so-o-o high he didn't know who he was or where he was. All Jon knew was he had a sexual hunger for this person in whose pubes his face lay--the scent filling his brain--and...whose hard, round butt Jon's hands now rubbed and groped. The straight, blonde stud began running his nose through Brad's soft, dense pubes, dragging his open mouth and wet tongue along behind, paying homage to the superior man.

When Brad felt the blonde stud's hands on the backs of his thighs, climbing upward and kneading his hard, round globes, and when he felt Jon's hot, wet tongue on his groin, Brad realized he no longer needed to guide his new conquest. Staring down, Brad said in a low, seductive voice, "Lick my balls, baby," and Jon dropped his face--his long, wet tongue reaching out from an open, hungry mouth. Sober, licking another dude's balls would've been the last thing Jon would do, but under these mindless conditions, the blonde Adonis licked the big, bull-sized balls like a cheap whore--even drawing them in his mouth, washing them with his tongue. "Oh-h-h fuck y-e-a-h... t-h-a-t's it... s-u-c-k those balls, girl..."

When his balls were dripping with Jon's saliva, Brad held his meaty cockhead in his palm, holding his cock still, and huskily whispered, "Lick my big cock, babe," and the blonde stud laid his long, wet tongue against the warm, silky skin at the base of Brad's huge cock and--with his glittering, deep blue eyes staring upward--licked up the cock's shaft, repeating the process over-and-over around its massive girth. Thick, white precum oozed from the eye of Brad's cockhead, coating its underside, as Brad looked down, reveling in the knowledge he had this power over another dude--a straight, pussy-fucking dude.

"Y-e-a-h, now lick my big cockhead, pretty girl. Oh-h-h, fuck, that's it, babe... Lick up a-l-l that sweet precum you've caused me to make." In hands he himself had thrown and caught footballs, as a quarterback in high school, Jon grasped the base of the giant cock and swiped his tongue across the massive cockhead covered in white goo, taking Brad's seed inside his belly. Jon did it again and again, licking around the 3" cockhead, hungry for the quarterback's sweet precum ...while green lights blinked on the tiny cameras, strategically placed, recording the blonde stud's continued fall.

Caressing Jon's long, soft hair and getting deeper in the boy's head, Brad cooed, "Rub my thighs and butt, beautiful... Make love to me, girl.... Make love to your man..." When Jon took the fat, glistening cockhead inside his warm mouth--sealing his lips on its crown, rolling his wet tongue around the gooey thing--Brad gasped and sighed at the exquisite feeling. "Oh-h-h y-e-a-h, pretty baby... fuckin' s-u-c-k on that cock..." Jon followed suit, alternating between rolling his tongue and suckling on the juicy cockhead, craving the thick goo belching-forth from its eye. "Your whole purpose in life now is to please me, girl ...to make yourself w-o-r-t-h-y of me. You fuckin' n-e-e-d my seed inside you. Don't you, pretty girl?"

Holding the giant cock in one hand, while kneading Brad's hard glutes with the other, the former quarterback and first baseman opened his beautiful eyes and looked upward at `his man', nodding in complete agreement. Brad stuck the little, brown bottle of poppers under Jon's nose again, and the blonde jock cocked his jaw, sucking three more inches of cock inside his mouth and throat. "Make love to that cock, babe... It's all yours..." With a total of 6" of cock inside his warm, wet oral cavity, Jon's throat began squeezing the cockhead now making its home there, while his hand slid from the hard glute it had been kneading to the big bull-balls hanging between Brad's legs, gently squeezing and rubbing the pair. Where had Jon learned this talent?? With Brad repeatedly using feminine terminology, a drugged-up Jon had placed himself in the position of the numerous girls, who'd performed their magic on him--bobbing and twisting on the juicy cock, greedy for its seed ...or had this talent come naturally to Jon? After all, he had no gag-reflex ...and he had that awesome hard, round ass. Then Jon's fingers slid behind Brad's balls and across his taint--the blonde jock-stud's long, middle finger sliding down inside the narrow valley between the quarterback's tight glutes and onto his little rosebud, rubbing circles around it with the pad of his finger. Yeah...Jon was a natural.

The second Jon's finger slid between Brad's hard glutes, rubbing circles over his little rosebud, the quarterback's hard cock began throbbing and jerking, uncontrollably. He'd planned for a more prolonged engagement, with a much deeper penetration of the blonde Adonis' throat, but Jon's natural talent--unknown to the young man himself--had decided the course of this evening's events. "Oh-h-h FUCK!! Fuck you, you goddamned motherfucker!! Suck that fuckin' cock!!" Brad yelled--his giant cock shooting volley-after-volley of rich, white cum down Jon's hot, squeezing throat.

When Jon felt the first volley hit the back of his throat, he pulled up on the cock, leaving its massive head between his pink lips, inside his mouth. He tasted good, and Jon wanted more--much more. He jacked the shaft of the wonderful cock, sucking its cockhead while rubbing his tongue along its underside--intoxicated by Brad's musk and in love with his cock. Jon swallowed...and swallowed, but he couldn't keep up with all Brad's offering. The white goo ran from the corners of his mouth and around the big cock, dripping in long, ropey strands from Jon's chin. Brad's big hands grabbed great clumps of Jon's hair, holding him on the end of his cock. "Oh, fuck, yeah!! Suck that cock, bitch! Yeah, suck it!"

Just then, the doorknob jiggled repeatedly with someone trying to open it. "What the fuck, bro?? You in there jacking off?? I'm ready for dinner. Let's go!" It was Brad's best friend, Taylor Harris, the university's star running back--and a young-Tom Brady lookalike. "What the fuck you got the door jammed, bitch?? Let me in!" Taylor yelled, continuing to rattle Brad's doorknob.

"Goddamn it!! Chill, motherfucker!! Jesus Christ!!" Brad yelled in response, pissed as all-hell. He tried stepping back, but Jon--who was quite strong himself--held onto Brad's glutes, still sucking the now-sensitive cockhead, hungry for every last bit of the addictive cum. Brad grabbed Jon's shoulders and forcefully pushed the blonde jock back, yanking his cock from Jon's greedy mouth. "Enough!" Brad whispered, and picking up a dirty sock, he threw it at the handsome stud on the bed, whispering harshly, "Wipe your fucking face!" Walking back to his desk, Brad put the lid on the poppers and set them down. He'd stepped into his nylon shorts and was pulling them up his long legs, when Taylor yelled again, pounding on the door. Brad bellowed, "Goddamn you!! Give me a goddamn minute!!" He stepped into his flip-flops and strutted to the door, pulling the chair away, with the door swinging immediately wide open.

Taylor started inside Brad's room but froze. Seeing Brad inside his room half-dressed was nothing unusual, but seeing Jon here was completely unexpected. "Close the goddamned door or leave--I don't care which, but don't just stand there with the door open!" Brad yelled.

Taylor stepped further inside the room and closed the door, taking-in the scene before him. Jon sat on the bed--his hair wildly disheveled, the area around his mouth red, and his eyes dilated, looking as high and he, indeed, was. "What's he doing here?" Taylor asked.

Already inside his closet and pulling a t-shirt over his head, Brad's response was muffled, "Jon was just trying to explain why he was sucking Anne's tits while fingering her pussy Saturday night. Weren't you, Jon?" High as a kite, Jon just sat there with his mouth open, staring at nothing in particular.

Taylor sauntered over to the desk, intending to lean against it, however, seeing the poppers sitting out in the open, the 6' 2", 185 lb. stud picked the little, brown bottle up and strode over to the bed, sitting down next to Jon. Inside the closet with his back to the other two, Brad was busy buttoning a shirt, getting ready to go downstairs for the house dinner. Taylor unscrewed the lid and took two hits from the poppers, taunting Brad, "Oh-h-h, he was, was he??" The young-Tom Brady lookalike chuckled, "He looks like maybe he was showing you what A-n-n-e did after he sucked her tits and fingered her cunt. Is that right, buddy?" Taylor picked a piece of lint--from the sock--off Jon's cheek, then held one of Jon's nostrils, whispering, "Inhale. Again."

Buttoning his jeans, Brad began answering his friend, turning to come back in the room, "Jon just wanted to apol--" He stopped short, seeing Taylor holding the bottle of poppers to Jon's cute, slightly upturned nose. Brad pretty much figured his best bro would realize what had been happening in the room; he'd just hoped to keep his new bitch to himself for a little while before introducing Taylor to the action. You see, Brad and Taylor were practically joined at the hip: they did everything together--from football, to ΠΚΕ, to, occasionally, even select babes, and, though Brad would be loathed to admit it, he didn't mind seeing Taylor's amazing ass in opportunity he could. The rest of the running back was pretty easy on the eyes also. Standing 6' 2", weighing 185 lbs., Taylor--with his uncanny resemblance to a young version of Tom Brady--had an incredible athlete's body, with broad shoulders, ripped abs, and a narrow waist. Also having straight, neck-length, dark blonde hair, tucked behind his ears, blue eyes, and dimples, Taylor had a long line of babes craving his illusive attention. So, yeah, Brad was cool sharing with Taylor! It would just give him more jack-off material, watching (and recording) these two, hot studs going at it.

Brad chuckled, "You don't miss much, do you, buddy?"

"Well, I think it was pretty, fucking obvious--chair under the doorknob, answering the door nude, and leaving poppers out, with blondie looking spaced-out and red-faced... not to mention his swollen lips and messed-up hair. Don't take much, bro!" Taylor laughed. "I'm not smart like you, but I'm not retarded either. So, how has pretty-boy been your cocksucker and how did that happen??"

"Just since Saturday night," Brad began.

"Bullshit!" Taylor cut him off.

"No, I'm serious, bro!" Brad defended.

"How'd it happen? Blondie come begging you for your ginormous cock??" Taylor was hungry for the lascivious details.

"Well, I'd like to say `yes', but it wasn't so...voluntary--a little G, a little E... But! I hasten to add, Jon, here, is a natural, aren't you, Jon?" When Jon just sat there, staring off at nothing in particular, Brad repeated, "A-r-e-n't you, Jon??" To which, the young jock-stud slowly shook his head `no'. "Well, he is. He's a bit fucked-up right now, adjusting to his new role and all."

When Taylor stood and began stripping, Brad tried convincing him to wait until after dinner, but the running back was having none of it, "You've got yours, so let's go. Well, not this time, bro! Don't worry, it won't take long. I've had my eye on this beauty since he rushed!"

With its use of the word `beauty' in reference to Jon, Taylor's last sentence sounded pretty, fucking gay to Brad, who seriously hated fags. He wasn't opposed to using their mouths--when a willing cunt wasn't around--but Brad found their sexuality repulsive--putting another dude's cock in your mouth or, worse yet, up your shit hole. Brad decided Taylor must've meant he'd figured Jon for a fag from the start, wanting to face-fuck him since then, because the idea of Taylor Harris being a fucking queer was laughable. The dude plowed pussy with the best of them, and Taylor's current girlfriend was hot-as-fuck.

Now nude, the handsome running back pushed Jon back on the bed, turning him around to lay lengthwise in the center of the bed. "Get me a dirty towel ...unless you'd rather sleep in my cum," Taylor laughed, making Jon take two more hits from the poppers, while taking two himself.

"No fucking way!" Brad muttered, putting the chair under the doorknob again and digging a dirty towel from his laundry basket.

Taylor draped the towel over a pillow, lifted Jon's head, and stuck the pillow underneath, climbing on the bed afterward and straddling the blonde jock-stud's head. The young Tom Brady lookalike playfully slapped Jon's pale, innocent-looking face several times with his hard, straight, 8" cock. High on the G and the poppers, Jon was anything but innocent in actions, sticking his pink tongue out trying to catch the beautiful slab of meat. "Oh, y-e-a-h! You're h-u-n-g-r-y for it, aren't you??" With Jon's eyes focused on his cock, Taylor grabbed the young man's face in one hand, holding it still, while continuing to slap it with his meat. "N-o-o-o, look at me, not my cock. No, look at me! Ah-h-h, that's it! Oh, yeah! I've been dreaming of fuckin' this pretty mouth since I saw you at Rush!" Jon tried leaning up for the cock again--his mouth open and tongue out--but Taylor held his face down. "Do you want my cock, Jon? I'm not letting you up unless you tell me--one way or the other."

Jon tried leaning up for the cock again but was held still. "Yeah... yeah, I want your cock," Jon panted.

"Are you just saying that, because that's what you think I want to hear?" Taylor taunted.

"No, I want your cock," Jon panted again.

Disbelieving the handsome blonde stud, Taylor squinted his eyes, grilling Jon, "For how long? How long have you had the hots for me??"

Brad spoke up, bellowing, "Who the fuck cares?? I'm hungry! Fuck his mouth and be done with it already!"

"Alright, Daddy's hungry," Taylor comically confided to Jon, "and I'm horny, so we gotta be quick--t-h-i-s time." Due to being high on the poppers himself, the hotter-than-fuck running back was much more verbal than usual. Dropping down on his hands well-over Jon's head, Taylor's hard, meaty cock hung in the air directly over Jon's open mouth--its glistening head grazing the blonde stud's wet, swollen lips. "Open wide, sexy!" Taylor taunted, lowering himself into Jon's very hungry mouth. As Jon's lips sealed over the perfect, missile-shaped cockhead and his tongue rubbed against its underside, Taylor gasped, "Oh-h-h, FUCK! What a mouth!! I fuckin' LOVE this dude's mouth, bro!!"

"Sh-h-h, keep it down," Brad warned, sitting on the sofa, enjoying the show. Popping the buttons on his Diesel jeans, he pushed them down to his knees along with his briefs and began jacking his huge cock. "You know, you'd have a much better experience with his unnatural talents, turning around. The kid can deep-throat a horse!"

"Well, you should know, considering how big your monster is!" Taylor laughed, turning around. From the sofa, against the same wall as the headboard, Brad now had an unobstructed view of Taylor's a-m-a-z-i-n-g, hard, round ass...not to mention the dude's perfect cock and balls. Taylor's long legs stretched out on the bed--his big, muscular thighs framing Jon's head tucked neatly between--while his little, pink rosebud pursed its tiny lips as though it were blowing kisses ...or so Brad imagined, as he sat slowly jacking his big cock, licking his dry lips--his breath shallow and ragged, imagining the similarity of his best bro's smooth rosebud to Anne's shaved cunt.

From the other end of the bed--that which Brad had little view, the site was equally hot: had Jon been undressed, Taylor's face would have hovered directly over Jon's cock, but, as it was, the younger jock's cock lay hidden beneath his jeans, hard, oozing thick precum into his soft, dense bush of ash blonde pubes. Resting on his forearms above the golden stud's meat, Taylor's head reeled from the poppers and the incredible sensations Jon's throat provided, as he continued hiking his round ass up-and-down, pumping his long cock between Jon's wet lips. Then Taylor felt them: Jon's muscular arms stretched upward, wrapping themselves around the small of his back--his hands searching, rubbing the tops of his hard globes. This was better than fucking any girl--even his hotter-than-fuck, current girlfriend, Taylor thought, as he rotated his ass for the boy, discovering the added sensation of Jon's spasming, gripping throat.

With Jon's hands roaming the small of his back, Taylor raised his hard, round butt and began fucking the young stud's mouth in earnest. The young, blonde Adonis moaned deeply around the cock--Taylor's thick, white precum coating his swollen lips and running down the sides of his face. Brad sat silently--his hand covered in thick precum--wanting nothing more than to jump on the bed and fuck the shit out of his best bro. Meanwhile, the thing for which Jon was clueless began to work its magic. While his magnificent throat squeezed and milked Taylor's beautiful cock, Jon's body heat quietly dispersed his scent--his mysterious pheromones--along with that of his sweet, oozing precum, into the air, slowly casting a spell over the handsome running back whose face hovered mere inches above ... just like it did to the poor pledge forced to kneel with his face between Jon's legs at the party. After a few minutes inhaling the sweet scent, Taylor succumbed, dropping his face onto the crotch of Jon's jeans, moaning, rotating his ass--his big balls covering Jon's eyes as he ground his hard, thick meat into the younger stud's throat. Taylor was someone he wouldn't have recognized, sliding his large hands under the top of Jon's thighs, lifting them, while he rubbed his face deep into the blonde stud's crotch--his crazed moaning muffled in part by the jeans. High on poppers Jon-scent, the Tom Brady lookalike moaned huskily into the younger stud's jeans, "Fuck me, you mother-fucker... Oh-h-h, fuck me..."--all the time digging his nose under the blonde boy's hard cock as if to free it. Yeah, just like the poor pledge the other night, Taylor's uncontrolled mind wanted Jon's balls in his mouth. He wanted to lick up Jon's taint, pry those big globes apart, and sink his tongue deep inside the boy's cunt. Moaning mindless into Jon's crotch, Taylor's cock jerked, as he fell over the edge, blasting his thick, white cum inside the younger stud's stomach--their DNA mixing and becoming one inside the blonde Adonis.

Taylor lay with sweaty face buried in Jon's jeans, panting, dreaming how he'd love to fuck this boy--fuck that! he'd marry him--feeling Jon's breath huff from his nose and over his big balls. He rolled off the young hunk and laid on his back, trying to catch his breath. Jon's red cheeks were covered in the thick, white froth that had backed-up around Taylor's cock and slid across them, down into his beautiful, blonde hair forming mats of drying cum, but his jeans were also a mess, having cum himself, filling his pubes and soaking the crotch of his jeans. Panting, the young jock scolded himself for going commando that day; having not done laundry lately, he was out of clean underwear. `I should've put on a dirty pair. Now, I'll walk out of here with wet jeans,' the blonde stud thought--although he should've been wondering why he came in the first place!

"Well, fuck this! Now, I'm going to have to change again!" Brad complained, having shot cum across his shirt. As he got up to go to the closet again, he ordered the other two, "Get up and get dressed! Now! We're late for dinner, and I'm hungry!" Of course, Jon had his clothes on--albeit they were quite wrinkled...and now stained. He sat up, dazed--his head whirling in confusion. He stood but nearly dropped to the floor, feeling light-headed and weak-kneed. The blonde jock didn't make it far, plopping down on the sofa, sitting right on a puddle of Brad's cum. Pulling his jeans and briefs off, Brad noticed a dirty hand towel. He grabbed it, opened a bottle of water, and soaked it, throwing it in Jon's lap and telling him, "Wipe your face and neck, faggot! You disgust me!" Turning to Taylor, he added, "And get your motherfucking ass up, bro! Now!" Brad was definitely in a foul mood, for some unknown reason.

Jon shuddered, hearing the word `faggot' directed at him, but he was relieved at being able to clean his face. Not unsurprisingly, his throat was quite sore, so he picked up the unfinished Sprite and drank the remainder, while Taylor hauled himself out of the bed and began dressing. When he finished putting his clothes back on, Taylor strutted to the mirror and smoothed his hair down, tucking it behind his ears and admiring his beauty. Having finished dressing as well, Brad pulled the chair from the door and held it open, "Come on! Let's go! Get his coat on. He ain't staying the night here!"

Taylor went to the sofa, helping Jon up and smoothing down his shirt as best he could. "Just a goddamned minute, bitch! We gotta get Princess here presentable." He got the coat on Jon and began trying to smooth his hair down--which, by now, was totally fucked-up--when Brad stormed across the room and jerked Jon over to the door.

"Fuck that!" Brad barked. "I don't care how he looks! Now, come on, dude!! I'm fuckin' hungry!"

"Fine! Sometimes you can be a real asshole, you know??" Then, as Taylor sauntered to the door, he laughed, looking at Jon, "You look just like a cheerleader who spent the night getting ploughed. That's what you look like, you know? Hell, your eyes are even glazed and dilated!" Then, the big running back tweaked Jon's nipple through his shirt, laughing more and causing the fair-skinned jock to blush red in shame. "Look it, Brad! The sweet baby girl even blushes!" Fortunately for Jon, no one was in the hallway to hear his debasement. "Lighten up, will you? I'm just giving you a hard time. You and I are gonna become g-r-e-a-t friends, Jon-Jon!! I can call you that, can't I?" Outside Brad's door, Taylor draped his heavy arm over Jon's shoulders and pulled his face into his chest, "You sweet stud, you mean the w-o-r-l-d to Brad and me! We don't kiss and tell." Then, bending down, he whispered seductively in Jon's ear, squeezing the boy's hard, plump butt, "Girl, you come knock on my door a-n-y time! I'll let you ride my big, ole cock. That sounds fun, doesn't it?" With the additional GHB from the soda, Jon was limp in Taylor's arms, unable to focus or speak through the molestation, as the bigger dude licked his fat tongue up the length of Jon's neck and into his ear, darting in and around the little orifice. "I want you b-a-d-l-y, dude," Taylor quietly whispered.

Once again, Brad growled, shoving the two others forward, "Okay, enough of the faggy shit! Straighten up, both of you! Let's get downstairs before all the food is gone, goddamn it!"

"Okay, boss! Whatever you say...as always," Taylor flipped. Letting go of Jon's hard globes, the football stud stuck his arm around Jon's back and under his arm, holding the younger jock-stud steady and helping him down two flights of stairs to the main hall.

Standing in the dining hall, waiting in line for their food--Brad in front with Taylor following, holding Jon steady beside him--Kevin and Chris walked up. Kevin reached out and grabbed a handful of Jon's inviting buttocks, causing Jon's knees to buckle. Had Taylor not had been holding him up, he'd have crumpled to the floor. "What the fuck! Knock it off, shit-for-brains!" Taylor yelled, turning around, holding Jon up from behind--his cock lengthening again, rubbing against Jon's amazing ass.

"You say the sweetest things, stud," Kevin shot back in a sultry, seductive voice. "I'd have grabbed your ass first, were it not that you'd have dropped hot-stuff." Then, he shot his friend a glaring look, "What the fuck is wrong with you, cunt-face? Why the fuck do you look like you just got out of bed...having slept in your clothes?? And what's wrong with your eyes??"

Chris jumped-in, "I don't know... I kind of like the look. It's kind of a `come fuck me up the ass' look, don't you think?" He groped his big cock, adding, "Jon-Jon, do you want Daddy's fat cock up your sweet, little cunt-hole??"

Looking the three dudes over--Brad, Taylor, and Jon--Kevin settled his gaze on Jon, resuming his line of questioning, "This is a fucked-up scene! First of all, since when do you hangout with these two?? And why do you look like fuck?? I thought you said you had to leave Bergman Hall to call your mom??"

"Hey, he d-i-d call his mom, fuck-face!" Taylor spoke up, trying to provide Jon some cover. "And you forget I was his pledge father! He came to see me!"

Kevin snapped his fingers an inch from Jon's face, eliciting only a slight jerk. "Did you smoke him up or something? And what the fuck's all over the front of his shirt??" Glaring at Taylor, he added, "Y-o-u-r eyes are dilated too! What the fuck's going on here?" Kevin grilled.

"He's drunk. It's fuckin' toothpaste, dude. We tried brushing his teeth, `cause his breath smelled so bad afterward," Taylor lied, annoyed by the interrogation.

Chris leaned in, sniffing Jon's hair, face, and coat. "I don't smell toothpaste ...but I don't smell weed or booze either," the sexy, dark auburn-haired jock speculated. "It's something else--besides his normal, sweet, cunt-of-the-valley scent, I mean," Chris hastened to clarify, inciting all to chuckle, except Brad. Holding Jon's chin, he lifted his friend's head, patting his friend's cheek, "Look at me, Jon... That's it..." The handsome jock stuck his nose close to Jon's lips, sniffing. Letting go of Jon's chin, Chris leaned up and stepped back, saying nothing--only sneering and giving Taylor a knowing look behind Kevin's back.

"What did you smell?" Kevin asked.

"Nothin'," Chris replied.

"Bullshit!" Kevin stated, grabbing a fistful of Jon's hair to hold his head up.

"Hey, hey, hey!!" Taylor yelled, alarmed by Kevin's aggressive, hurtful action. "Watch it!"

Finally, Brad stepped forward, getting up in Kevin's face, "Have you got a problem?"

Cocky Kevin--a high school football stud himself--didn't back away, glaring back into Brad's eyes. "No problem. I just wanna know what you did to my buddy here."

"He was feeling down after his call with his mother. We gave him a little happy pill, you might say. Any more questions?" Brad challenged.

"What kind of `happy pill', B-r-a-d?" Kevin pressed.

"Why don't you come to my room after dinner, and I'll show you," Brad whispered, smiling lecherously.

Chris stepped in, pulling Kevin back a couple of steps, "I don't think he wants to know that badly, Brad."

Brad scoffed and went back in front of Taylor in the dinner line.

Taylor was suddenly pissed by the whole situation. As a university football star and a Senior, he was unaccustomed to anyone treating he and Brad in any manner except rolling on the ground, groveling. Who the fuck was Kevin to stand up and mouth-off to Brad, the President of ΠΚΕ, in front of a roomful of ΠΚΕs?? And who was Chris to sneer like that at him, so condescendingly?? Angry, Taylor shoved Jon into Chris' arms, saying, "Here! Y-o-u take care of him! Get him out of here n-o-w before I say anything else. Get him home, and give him lots of water, cunt-face!" When Kevin turned to help Chris, Taylor grabbed his arm. "Not you, shit-for-brains! You're having dinner with us, so you can get on a table and apologize profusely to Brad, the President of this frat, and to the frat itself!" Then whispering, he added, "We can't let the w-h-o-l-e frat see what you did and not apologize, now, can we?"

* * * * * * * *

Chris helped Jon out the front door into the bitter cold of the evening air--it's bite helping to wake the blonde stud a little. With his arm wrapped around Jon's back and under his arm, they walked along the scooped sidewalk toward Jon's room. "It's colder than f-u-c-k out here, buddy! Don't ya think??" Chris exclaimed, adding, "but when we get to your place, you'll warm me up real good, won't you?"

End -- Chapter 3