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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Copyright © 2019 by Eli van der Graaff

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 (PIΚΕ); 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 -- PIΚΕ 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 -- PIΚΕ; 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 -- PIΚΕ; RB -- University Football team

 

Todd Dreyer | Caucasian; Age 21; Curly blonde hair; 6' 2"; Blue eyes; 175 lbs.; University Senior; Member -- PIΚΕ; Rower -- University team

 

Colin Miller | African-American; Age 20; Short, curly, 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 -- PIΚΕ; Wrestler -- University Wrestling team

 

Luke Jost | Caucasian; Age 21; Curly, brown hair; 6' 2"; Brown eyes; 170lbs.; University Senior; Treasurer -- PIΚΕ; 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 -- PIΚΕ; High School Football & Basketball

 

Chris Flynn | Irish-American descent; Age 19; Straight, dark auburn hair; Gray eyes; 6' 1"; 165 lbs.; University Sophomore; Member -- PIΚΕ; 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/Asian); Age 22; Short, curly, black hair; Brown, Asian-shaped 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, curly, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 5"; 210 lbs.; University Senior; President -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas)

 

Deshawn Davis | African-American; Age 20; Short, curly, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 3"; 190 lbs.; University Junior; Active -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas)

 

Trevon Whiteley | African-American; Age 20; Short, curly, 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 a girl with whom he has one child and another on the way. Has an ex-girlfriend 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 (PIΚΕ); 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 (PIΚΕ); Wrestler -- University Wrestling team; High School Football & Wrestling; Summer Amateur Boxing; Younger brother of criminal Wade Johansen

 

 

-- Chapter 5 --

or How Jon Becomes Monogamous

Jon couldn't escape them--Brad, Taylor, and Chris. He had only a slightly easier time putting a small amount distance between himself and Brad and Taylor, but it was next to impossible, putting any breathing space between himself and Chris. The fact was that Chris, Kevin, Mason, and he were very close friends, which meant they pretty much knew each other's schedules and their favorite places--studying or otherwise.

Indeed, that first day, Chris had come back to Jon's room at 11 p.m., and--without the mind-numbing assistance of alcohol or drugs--Jon sat on the side of his bed, sucking his friend off. As if the day hadn't been humiliating enough, well-into the blowjob, Chris was both pleased and amused to point out the degree to which Jon had apparently `gotten into' his service, zoning-out, with his eyes closed, eagerly bobbing on the cock, and pulling Chris' hard, round butt toward his face with what seemed like a hunger ...or, at least, that's what the video Chris took seemed to show, though the handsome, blonde stud seemed less than thrilled with the facial he'd been given at the end. That, afterward, Jon tried denying any enjoyment in giving the blowjob only resulted in more ridicule from his friend, as he left, sated.

While Jon had received two bedtime visits from Chris and several text messages from Taylor, the three days following his deflowering had been `All-Quiet-on-the-Western-Front' with regard to Brad. Jon prayed this meant the quarterback and his girlfriend had gotten back together. He hadn't bothered replying to any of Taylor's texts; after all, it was only Brad and Chris who had any actual `proof' of him doing anything gay. Nevertheless, Jon had to be careful as far as Taylor was concerned, as--for all he knew--the young Tom Brady lookalike could probably easily get these videos from Brad (if he hadn't already).

As Thursday evening approached, Jon's stomach was rolling. PIKE had its mandatory frat house dinner and meeting, followed by the weekly meeting of the Social committee, of which Jon was the Treasurer. Taylor, the frat VP, also sat on the Social committee, so Jon was especially worried by the upcoming meeting. However, Jon wasn't the only person having a particular attitude regarding the meeting. Being so handsome, popular, and spoiled, Taylor was also arrogant and (regrettably) conceited. Unaccustomed to being ignored, by Thursday evening, the university's running back was quite pissed with Jon for not returning his texts--despite the fact he had a hot girlfriend, Beth, who regularly put-out.

As was the custom for House night, the four, main officers went to dinner together--Brad (President), Taylor (VP), Matt (Secretary), and Luke (Treasurer). They always went to the front of the line, got their dinners, and sat together. Toward the end of the line stood Chris, Mason, Kevin, and Jon. As the frat officers strutted past the four boys with their dinner trays, none, except Matt, deigned to acknowledge them. In itself, this wasn't at all unusual, as many of the Senior actives acted superior to Underclassmen, and this was simply accepted behavior ...except, of course, by Kevin.

Kevin spoke to Jon, "Dude, there went your new best friends, and they didn't even nod at you!" The dark-haired stud laughed. "I mean, wasn't it just, like, four days ago, you were hanging out with them, dropping `happy pills'? Arm-in-arm with them, wasn't he, Chris??" Kevin clarified for Mason's benefit.

"Yep! They all looked like gay lovers, if you asked me!" Chris confirmed, sneering unpleasantly at Jon, intentionally making him uncomfortable. "You'd have thought Jon just sucked them off or something!"

Jon's stomach was roiling as it was; he didn't need to deal with Kevin's big mouth or Chris' knowing sneers and barbs. Chris, Kevin, and even Mason chuckled at the talk. The idea of any of them being gay went right over Mason's head--the boy being so completely straight and (relatively) innocent as to be clueless.

"What did you do, Jon-Jon? Did you say something to spurn your gay lovers?" Kevin snorted.

"They're just being assholes, which is nothing new, Kevin, so just shut the fuck up," Jon said flatly.

"O-o-o-o, Sweet Cheeks is sensitive!" Chris taunted.

Kevin spooned his handsome, blonde friend, and, holding him tightly from behind, the dark-haired, 6' 2" stud exaggeratively humped Jon's f-u-l-l, hard butt, pinching the boy's nipples through his shirt. "O-o-o-o, `Sweet Cheeks' is right! This ass feels fuckin' a-m-a-z-i-n-g on my cock!! Who's your daddy, Jon? Huh?? Who owns this ass? Who??" Blushing crimson, Jon jerked free of his taller, stronger friend, saying nothing in hopes the subject would be dropped.

"N-a-h, that ass has my name on it, Striklin. Don't it, Jon-Jon?" Chris taunted. "You only want my cock up your sweet, t-i-g-h-t hole, don't ya?? See?? I'm getting major-hard just thinking your cunt!"

Unwittingly, Mason came to Jon's rescue, saying, "Fuck, dudes, you're making me sick! That's so disgusting! Knock it off, will ya? I wanna keep my dinner down..."

Despite their noticeable hard-ons, Kevin and Chris backed-off, leaving Jon alone...for the time being. However, those two weren't the only studs having Jon-related hard-ons. From his vantage point, Taylor surreptitiously observed the horseplay with the hot, blonde Adonis, being careful not to tip Brad and Luke off to his interest--both of whom sat unaware with their backs to the scene. Sitting at the table, the running back's 8" cock lengthened and plumped uncomfortably in his jeans, and as soon as Brad and Luke were distracted, Taylor reached under the table and adjusted his hard cock, bringing him much-needed relief. Sitting to the big jock's right, Matt, of course, noticed the move, but being more mature, said nothing.

* * * * * * * *

The House meeting followed the dinner, and with both now finished, the 137 PIKEs (or however many were in attendance that night) adjourned and went to their respective committee meetings--each held in different rooms. The Social committee was unique in that its meetings were held in the dining hall, so, as usual, Jon remained seated at his table, while Chris, Kevin, and Mason left the room--the four being on different committees. Because Jon and his friends had been late to dinner that evening, they'd been forced to take one of the tables in the back of the room, and now that the fraternity had broken for committee meetings, the other two dining tables in the back were empty. Normally, Jon would've moved to another table nearer the front to mix with the others, but due to his nervousness about the evening, he wanted to be alone. Matt was President of the Social committee, so he, too, remained seated at his table--the single table at the head of the room. Taylor sat next to him (as he'd been doing) ...until Jon began reading the minutes from the previous meeting, at which time, Taylor stood and walked to the back of the room, sitting next to the handsome, blonde stud, reading aloud. This an unusual move, as no one was supposed to move around once the meeting began, but Taylor being a big football jock and Senior, no one said anything, aside from a few whispers. Even Matt--the least suspicious person around--wondered what Taylor was doing, and even though he was a frat officer like Taylor, Matt always deferred to the running back, being he was only a Junior.

When he heard the whispering, Jon looked up from his laptop, saw Taylor heading his way, and quickly looked down--as though, by not making eye contact, the monster would go away. He lost his place and his voice wavered, but the PIKEs chalked it up to the distraction Taylor had caused. With anyone else, Matt would have pounded the gavel and told the dude to return to his seat; besides, he imagined Taylor was just moving back there to keep Jon company--alone in the back, as he was. Jon managed find his footing, completing the minutes, and before he'd finished, Taylor was already sitting to his right. Now, Jon deeply regretted not moving forward.

With the minutes having been read, the attention in the room returned to Matt in the front, leaving Jon and Taylor to themselves...for a while anyway. Jon was supposed to be paying attention, taking notes, so he refused to make eye contact, staring forward. That lasted about two minutes, when Taylor's large, slightly callused hand appeared from nowhere, grabbing his right wrist and bringing his hand forcibly to his crotch. Still looking forward--his lips pressed tightly together in anger--Jon fought to keep his hand on the laptop. He nearly jerked free but instead, hit his knuckles on the underside of the thick, wooden table--the small noise causing two actives seated two tables in front of them to briefly glance back. With the action going on under the table and Jon's laptop being open, neither active was able to determine the noise two tables behind them. Jon winced in pain, and due to his brief loss in strength, Taylor soon had the hand in his pubes.

T-h-a-t's when Jon looked down. The big jock had pulled his Diesel jeans and cherry red boxer briefs about half-way down his meaty thighs: the dude was sitting with his naked butt on the chair! It was a rare thing that Jon showed anger, but he was definitely angry by this situation. "Let go of my hand!" he whispered--his deep blue eyes flashing at Taylor. "I have to take notes!"

Taylor half-chuckled, reveling in seeing Jon worked-up. "I'll pay attention. You pay attention to me. Maybe next time, you'll return my texts!"

Jon's anger began turning to fear--his flashing eyes and pursed lips giving way to pleading eyes and furrowed forehead. "I can't!"

"You can, and you will," Taylor whispered firmly, leaning in toward Jon's face. "The more you fight me, the more you risk drawing attention. Now, be a good faggot and jack my cock. Let this be a lesson for you. You can expect more of this sort of thing if you continue ignoring my texts." Squeezing Jon's lower hand, its fingers opened in response to the pain, and Taylor felt the fight drain from the handsome, blonde jock.

There's a strange feeling--both physically and mentally--that comes over you when you begin to yield to your most feared, most repressed sexual desires. A truly straight guy may recognize another dude is good-looking, but it's something noted only once; they just don't give a shit. However, around 37% of males not only recognize another dude is hot, they note it each time they see the dude ...and sometimes when they're alone, doing what guys do best--abusing themselves. Think about it. Jon was one of those 37% who--given the right opportunity (rare as they may be)--might act on these feelings--even though, over the years, he'd stamped these urges down to the point he truly believed he didn't harbor any such desires. Over the past four years, Jon had fucked nine girls, multiple times each. Until Brad messed with him, he thought he was strictly about the pussy ...despite admiring other, young studs.

Now, Jon ran his fingers through the soft, dense pubes of the young Tom Brady lookalike, staring at his keyboard, as that strange feeling came over the hot, blonde stud. To anyone seated at the big, wooden tables two rows in front, behind the privacy of his laptop, Jon sort of appeared to be taking notes. However, if he'd have looked up such that you could see his eyes, these alone would've told you, mentally, Jon was somewhere faraway--glazed over as they were. Three minutes ago, when his hand had been squeezed so painfully, Jon made the mistake of looking over into the Taylor's face, and although he'd immediately looked forward and down at his keyboard, the jock's exquisite looks, coupled with his almost pleading eyes, was enough to doom the young bro. How could anyone look at that face--into those eyes--and not fall under their spell? Yeah, he'd help the dude out...if that's what he needs...what he wants me to do.

The pubes between his fingers felt luxuriant and dense--so soft they reminded Jon of the fur on his parent's spoiled Persian cat--but, unlike touching the cat, this was so wrong...and dangerous. He was now doing this on his own...and he kind of wanted to, just not here...in public...in a venue full-to-the-brim with hot, young-jock testosterone. Jon wanted so badly to watch his fingers--to see the thick pubes and big, erect cock--but he didn't dare. Fuck, he really wanted to lay his face in them, as he'd done in Brad's room. Taylor smelled so fucking good down there, and he tasted even better. Yet, staring at the blank space bar, Jon also felt like crying. He was embarking on something very frightening and leaving a part of himself behind--a part he'd never get back again. The corners of his mouth kept twitching down, his eyes filled with big tears, and when he closed them, they ran down his smooth cheeks.

Quickly, Jon wiped his face in the crook of his left arm and gained control of that particular emotion ...and his hand wrapped around the thick, fucking base of Taylor's beautiful cock. G-o-d, how Jon longed to go down on that juicy cock! How he yearned to have that big cock in his mouth, swirling Taylor's thick, sweet cum around with his tongue. Jon didn't know about getting fucked again--as he'd been by Chris--but sucking cock was slowly becoming something different for the handsome, young stud, as he sought to try to justify it.

The feeling of the big cock in Jon's hand was a-m-a-z-i-n-g--its thin, silky skin sliding over the fat bone beneath. He slid his hand forward to caress and hold Taylor's big balls, weighing them in his fingers, like he did his own. Strange thoughts and fantasies drifted through Jon's frozen mind. `I'd let him use me ...if he kept it secret. That wouldn't be so bad... It wouldn't be bad at all... Just wish he were the only dude after me...' Jon squeezed the cockhead and fondled it with his fingers--like a blind man--memorizing its every feature. It's eye oozed thick, sticky streams of rich precum--Taylor's precum--and, though he'd tried talking himself from it, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them. The sexy stud's seed tasted every bit as good as he remembered.

Taylor whispered in his ear, "If my kid brother weren't here visiting the college, I'd take you back to my room and f-u-c-k you `til you couldn't walk... You want it b-a-d, don't ya, faggot??" With the big jock's hot breath in his ear, Jon turned his head the opposite direction, wishing he were stronger, and nodded once--as if looking away at a blank spot on the table weren't actually admitting you wanted the dude inside you, seeding you. "That's what I thought," Taylor whispered. "You've a-l-w-a-y-s wanted me. Haven't you?? I'll bet you fuckin' d-r-e-a-m about me! Don't you, cocksucker?? You wanna be my b-i-t-c-h, Jon? Say it!"

Jon's breath was ragged. He didn't trust his voice. He didn't trust himself--not dropping to the floor and sucking the handsome stud off right there in the back of this room in front of everyone.

"Say it!" Taylor whispered huskily, demanding confirmation, wanting ownership of the boy.

`It's true', Jon thought. With his eyes never leaving his keyboard, he whispered a raspy, "Yeah..."

Taylor smiled. It's what he wanted to hear. "Yeah, well, we can make that happen, you hot fuckin' bitch ...just gotta figure a way to get Brad off your back. I don't like sharing, much less pussy."

Taylor's big cock was coated in sticky goo. Not only could Jon feel it in his hand, but he heard the squishing noises it made and smelled it in the air. The sound, feel, and smell of it served to make him beat the jock's meat with more desire--twisting his hand up-and-down it, running his fingers through the thick pubes, feeling Taylor's balls up. As Jon worked the big, gooey cock, he felt Taylor's hand on the small of his back, pulling his shirt out of his low-riding jeans. "Scoot your chair back a little and lean in," Taylor whispered. The touch of the big jock's hand--slightly callused from years of football--on Jon's warm, smooth skin was electric for the younger boy--his cock hardening uncomfortably in his briefs. As the older jock worked his fingers under the waistband of Jon's white briefs, he dove them down into Jon's tight, narrow valley, wishing he could just hoist the blonde stud over the table and eat his pussy right there. With the long fingers probing his tight crack, Jon envisioned the same fantasy, beating Taylor's cock with the devotion he gave his own--determined to give the handsome jock intense pleasure, proving his worthiness, and hoping, above all, Taylor would, indeed, text him again. Jon would never ignore Taylor again nor deny him anything.

Suddenly, Jon felt the big cock throbbing under his hand. Taylor pushed the boy's hand forward, pointing toward the underside of the table, and began thrusting his hips in time with the surging of his cock. Jon felt the long ropes of cum shooting up through Taylor's cock hitting the underside of the table and splattering in all directions. Taylor was lucky he'd spread his legs widely, as his jeans would've been covered in the mess. There was so much cum it sounded sort of like rain on the tiled floor, to Jon, who prayed none of the brothers heard the noise. The young stud's hand and wrist were, of course, caked in Taylor's white goo, and as Jon pulled it from the older boy's crotch, Taylor commanded the boy, "Show me just how m-u-c-h you wanna be my bitch: eat it!" Jon bent his head and brought his glazed hand to his mouth, licking Taylor's sweet cum. Taylor shook his head, chuckling.

Matt, who'd been standing at the front of the room guiding the discussion about a Spring event open to all students, had been the only witness to what was happening in the back of the room. The blessing for Jon and Taylor was Matt's wholesome, relatively innocent mind. To him, it just appeared Taylor had been distracting Jon the entire meeting, and the only reason he hadn't called him on it was Taylor's friendship and personality. The obvious chuckling, however, had finally irked the mild-mannered chairman. Interrupting one of the committee members giving his ideas for the event, Matt said, "Just a minute, Steve... Taylor, what's so funny back there? Would you care sharing with the group?"

Heads turned back, looking at the two boys, as Jon stared at this laptop's screen, wishing he were elsewhere. Without missing a beat, Taylor stated flatly, "I was just telling Jon, here, how hard my big cock is and how much I could use a blowjob about now." The room erupted in laughter, Jon's face burned crimson, and poor Matt immediately regretted having called Taylor out. Of course, all the frat bros present thought Taylor was just smarting-off to Matt--something not uncommon--so Jon had little to worry about, not that he didn't anyway.

Matt pounded the gavel, trying to regain control of the meeting. "Okay, okay... Just pay attention, Taylor, and quit bothering Jon. We've got a lot of planning for this event, and he needs to be taking minutes." The meeting eventually got back to order, after additional, jocular comments followed by peals of laughter. Afterward, Taylor surreptitiously pulled his jeans over his butt and buttoned them ...but he kept his heavy arm draped over Jon's shoulders throughout the remainder of the evening, as though claiming ownership. On the surface, it was the first gesture of friendship Taylor had ever shown toward the quiet, handsome bro, having never given him the time of day previously--something that didn't go unnoticed by a few.

* * * * * * * *

When he left the meeting, Jon saw he'd a missed call from Tess. Now over her flu, she was hungry for his cock, and feeling remorse about his gay thoughts and activities, Jon thought this was just what the doctor ordered, desperately hoping fucking Tess would make everything alright again. Not having had time to shower at the gym, Jon stripped, grabbed his gear, and headed for the shower. Normally, he wrapped a towel around his waist, but being in a hurry, he carried his towel and hair dryer in one hand and his shaving kit in the other.

His neighbor down the hall, Ryan, had just finished his nightly shower and was drying off, with his back to Jon. `What a fuckin' beauty!' Jon thought, closing his eyes a moment, as his 8" cock again began to chub. The young jock was, indeed, very handsome. At 6', 160 lbs., Ryan had thick, straight, light auburn hair, warm, brown eyes, and dimples that accentuated his bright, winning smile, which seemed to serve as a beacon to s-o-o-o many girls. Seeing Ryan's full, hard, round glutes--pink from his warm shower--Jon had yet another appreciation for his neighbor down the hall.

`F-u-c-k, for-get Tess!' Jon thought--wanting nothing more than to drop down on the floor and eat the jock's sweet, fuckin' ass. Since his night with Brad, these tormenting images and urges seemed f-a-r more frequent than they'd been before, leaving Jon standing in the doorway with his hands full, his eyes closed, and his hard, thick cock bouncing in the air. Perhaps the only thing stopping him from planting his tongue deep inside Ryan's little, pink rosebud was the fact the handsome redhead was a TKE--the nearest rival PIKE had.

Ryan grabbed his things and turned to walk out, but Jon and his bouncing cock blocked the way. His jaw dropped, stunned by the size and thickness of Jon's cock. Being fair-complected, the redhead blushed and cleared his throat, alerting Jon he wanted through. Jon opened his eyes, and, seeing Ryan's blushing face and bright smile, he realized he was blocking the dude's way...with a hard-on. The naked, blonde stud blushed as well, apologizing, "Oh, dude, sorry... I'm getting ready to see my girlfriend."

"It's cool. No problem, dude," Ryan assured the blonde stud, but when Jon just stood there staring at him, the handsome TKE chuckled, adding, "Uh, do you think you can move out of the way, though? I'm afraid what that thing might do to me if I get too close!" Jon stepped back quickly, apologizing again--redder in the cheeks than he was before. Ryan chuckled again, "It's all good. Have fun, dude! Nice porn star cock there, by the way..."

`Wait, what??' the redheaded jock thought to himself, disappearing into his room adjacent to the bathroom. `What did I mean by that?? I hope that didn't sound gay...' Ryan always threw wood whenever he talked to Jon--just like he did around hot babes! Despite Jon looking, acting, and talking like a totally straight jock, there was something about the dude that made Ryan's brain scream `pussy', though clearly, that was no clit he'd just seen. Closing the door, he looked down, finding tonight was no exception, as his 7.5" cock came to life, filling with blood. Ryan would definitely be whipping one out tonight! (He just prayed he wouldn't be thinking about Jon's ass this time.)

* * * * * * * *

The three hours Jon spent with Tess in her room was a complete disaster, and the hot, sorority girl was not happy, making hateful remarks intermittently. Yeah, Jon got hard and pushed it in her cunt, but it wasn't long before certain thoughts and memories caused Jon to lose his hard-on. What would Tess think if she knew the dude fucking her now had sucked cock--not just one, but three, different cocks--multiple times each. Tess didn't think too much of effeminate men, and while he wasn't effeminate, Jon was a definitely cocksucker. Knowing Tess, she'd most likely think it to be a degrading insult, being fucked by such a weak man. If her clit was only like Taylor's cock, she might be the best of both worlds. With that crazy thought, the game was over, as his cock wilted in shame.

"Are you kidding me??" Tess yelled, frustrated.

An hour later, the same scenario played out again, except this time Jon thought of sexy Chris, sneering down at him, spitting in his face. The dude was so fuckin' built, and he really knew how to use his cock, hitting that electric nut-thing inside him ...and, once again, the game was over, as Jon wilted, thinking of Chris' hot looks.

"What the fuck's w-r-o-n-g with you, Jon??" Tess yelled. "What bitch are you fucking behind my back?? Huh, Jon?? Do I know her?? Get the fuck off me!"

This was b-a-d. Jon and Tess enjoyed a great sex life--with her liking as often as Jon, which seemed out of the norm compared to other girls. Jon made up the lame excuse he was worried about a paper he had due, although Tess looked skeptical.

"Well, maybe you should just go home and `worry' about it there," she said sarcastically. "You're a real flop tonight, Jon Swenson!" So, the painfully handsome stud walked home in the bitter-cold night air, ashamed and frightened--tears welling in his eyes. He didn't want to be gay.

* * * * * * * *

The next day, he and Mason sat in Western Civ, listening to the TA talk about the effects of the plague on Medieval European society when Jon's cell vibrated. Taking it from his pocket, he saw there were two messages from Brad. The first was a video clip of him lying on his back on Brad's bed, sucking Taylor's cock--though he noted the movie still made it look like he and Taylor were 69'ing, having been taken from the Brad's sofa. Jon didn't dare click on it for the sound--not in class, not next to Mason. The second text was a message reading, "SUCKBOY! Guess what? I'm horny...NOW! Text me your address."

This was a nightmare from which Jon begged to be delivered. He replied, "Can't now. In class."

Brad's reply came quickly, "Do I care?? Seriously, do I care?? Would you rather I broadcast these clips to the whole frat??" Jon quickly texted his address, saying he'd be there in 10 minutes. His phone buzzed one more time with a final message from Brad, reading, "You'll need to make a copy of your room key for me soon. I don't like waiting in the hall for my cunts. Understand?"

This was out-of-control--w-a-y the fuck out-of-control--and Jon was in over his head. `I am NOT fucking gay!' he kept telling himself. `I'm NOT even bi! These dudes are fucking RUINING my LIFE!!!' He felt like he was cornered in a cave by three, hungry wolves--Brad, Chris, and Taylor--all wanting to eat him alive. Chris was supposed to be one of his best friends too! `If Brad thinks he's getting a key to my room, he's got another think coming!' Jon resolved.

With around 40 students in the classroom, Jon quietly packed his backpack and whispered to Mason that his stomach was upset. Of course, Mason wasn't an idiot: he saw Jon checking his messages and replying, and being best of friends, Jon had confided last night's disaster with Tess. So, Mason just assumed something was up with her. "Don't worry, bro... you can see my notes later," Mason assured his friend. Thanking him, Jon grabbed his coat and quietly left the classroom.

Mason was one of the very few people who didn't act like a dog in-heat around Jon, mounting and humping his legs, like Kevin and Chris always did, for example. `Why can't everyone be like Mason??' Jon thought. However, these thoughts quickly turned to his upcoming meeting with Brad. `I'm gonna tell him I don't care what he does with those videos! I'm not doing anything else with he or Taylor or Chris! They're the faggots! I'll change schools first!'

By the time, he climbed the stairs to his second-floor room, the rational part of Jon's brain made it clear the uphill battle he'd have with his parents, trying to convince them to let him change schools, especially considering this was one of the best State universities in the country. This part of his brain also explained how it would be next to impossible to quit his fraternity--another option about which he'd thought. Indeed, there were only two ways to leave PIKE: obtaining a release from the national organization or expulsion--both long, arduous processes. Expulsion was inconceivable for Jon, as you'd about have to break the law in some heinous way for this to be an option out--something Jon would never do. Hell, he didn't even speed! About the worst things Jon did was swear and masturbate ...oh, and covet his neighbor's wife, which went along with the masturbation. At any rate, Jon promised himself, he'd make it clear to Brad he was here for an education and that he was not leaving class just to suck his dick or be his `cunt' (as the asshole had put it so nicely).

Jon was slightly relieved to find Brad was not standing outside his door waiting on him, though this relief was only fleeting--the sense of dread returning the second he shut his door. Soon, Jon knew, it was inevitable he'd have that giant cock down his throat. He took his shoes off, hung up his coat, and removed his expensive sweater; he didn't want that ruined. As he was taking his sweater off, Jon heard the heavy front door downstairs slam shut, followed by heavy footsteps on the staircase. His t-shirt came off with his sweater, and the dry, winter air filled his long, blonde hair with static electricity.

Brad didn't even knock on Jon's door, walking straight in as it were his room. The face of the big-man-on-campus instantly lit up, chuckling, "Ho-ho o-h-h-h, boy!! Dude must be h-o-t for the cock, stripping down for me before I even walk through the door!"

"I had a nice sweater on, okay? I didn't want you ruining it," Jon replied glumly. "And do you think it'd hurt you to knock before you enter??"

"You know that I'm going to the Pros, don't you? I'm probably t-h-e-e most popular dude on campus, so you'd think you'd be t-h-r-i-l-l-e-d and h-o-n-o-r-e-d that I've graced you with this opportunity. Do you think you'll e-v-e-r amount to anything? Fuck, I really doubt it. In fact, I'd be shocked if you did. Pretty face...hot body...but all that is pretty transitory, Jonny. I'm going to be making m-i-l-l-i-o-n-s next year. Maybe I'll throw some change your way, if you're still swinging on the end of my cock then." He laughed and threw his coat on the desk chair.

The football hero's cruelty hit Jon like a punch to the gut. To think all Brad saw in him--in terms of potential--were his looks, not his intellect or ambition, was a demeaning blow to Jon. Also, Jon hadn't even thought about the possibility of this nightmare lasting more than a month--tops--before he'd figure a way to put an end to it. Did Brad plan on using him like a prostitute long into the future?? What about Taylor? Worse yet, what about Chris?? Chris was a Sophomore like Jon, so they'd have two more years--side-by-side--at this university. All this went against Jon's plans of being a good husband and father--a future for which he'd long dreamt. These thoughts, coupled with his already great dread of giving the hateful quarterback his blowjob, caused the lump in Jon's throat to clutch and the corners of his mouth to pull downward as he fought to keep his emotions from getting the better of him. All the same, tears welled in his eyes and dropped down his cheeks.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!!" Brad began, unbuttoning his jeans. "Stop with the tears, cunt face, and get the fuck out of your jeans! I have to put up with that shit from Anne, so I'm not about to put up with it from you! Now, fuckin' STRIP! We don't want any of my genetically superior cum getting all over your clothes..."

Jon opened his mouth and the choked sobbing began, "I'm NOT your WHORE! ...or your CUNT! I'm NOT even GAY! And I'm NOT getting out of my jeans!"

It happened so quickly! Brad walked straight over to Jon, sitting on the bed, and slapped him hard upside the head, knocking Jon sideways down on the bed and leaving his head ringing. "I told you to knock that shit off!! And when I tell you to do something, you do it, faggot!! You wanna cry like a little girl, then that proves my point: you're as queer as a three-dollar bill!" Brad walked back across the room, staring out the window, trying to cool down. "And I've got a newsflash: Dude, you had my COCK in your mouth! ...NOT once, but TWICE! ...A-N-D you took it like a fuckin' pro! That makes you a COCKSUCKER, and, by definition, a scum-of-the-earth faggot--here o-n-l-y to serve real men like me!"

Jon calmed himself down and wiped his face. Sniffling, he removed his jeans and briefs, as a moment of silence weighed on the room. When he'd finished taking his clothes off, nodding toward the common wall he shared with his neighbor, Jon meekly asked, "Will you please keep...you know, the gay comments...down a little?"

Brad ignored Jon and spoke to him from across the room. "Now, because I'm with Anne, I'm regrettably not going to call on your services often. I'm telling you this, so you don't do what everyone else does--fall in love with me, then get all pissy `cause you can't have my cock as often as you want it. Other than Taylor, are you fagging with anyone else? Does anyone else, know you like it up your asshole?" So crudely put--liking it up his asshole--not to mention untrue and obnoxious, Jon shook his head `no'--defiant, his hurt turning to anger.

"Good. I must have caught you coming out then. Obviously, though, Taylor knows you're a queer, but I don't want him using you behind my back. I don't want him stretching your asshole out or anything. So, if he contacts you, you're to let me know; if I know he's contacted you, I can distract him by asking him to go to the bars with me or something. But he's got Beth, so--like me--hopefully he won't be able to use you too often either."

Jon shook his head, disgusted with Brad's lies and manipulation. "What's with the head shaking, bitch??" Brad yelled.

"Well, first of all, you didn't catch me `coming out': you drugged me and forced me suck your dick! Secondly, you need to respect that when I'm in class, I can't come running to `service' you: you're just..."

He hadn't even finished his sentence, when Brad stormed over and pushed Jon down on the bed by the throat, squeezing it so hard Jon thought he would kill him. "Listen, you little cunt!!!!" Brad screamed. "YOU don't talk to me like that!!!! I told you I wasn't fucking around with you, and I meant it!!! And as far as being g-a-y, you're the biggest goddamned faggot I know!!!!"

Jon was terrified--terrified of Brad's explosive rage and frightened someone, including his landlady, would overhear the gay accusations. Jon choked red-in-the-face, clawing at the big hand around his throat, while trying to make the shushing sound.

Brad continued yelling, "O-h-h-h, you want me to keep it QUIET?? You don't want the others to know you love SUCKING MY BIG COCK?? Is that it??" Releasing his grip around Jon's throat, Brad sat on the bed, pulled Jon's nude body across his lap, and proceeded spanking the young stud's beautiful, round butt. Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap!

"OW!!! OW!!! No!! Stop, Brad!! OW!!! Stop, please!! I won't talk back anymore!! I promise!! OW!!!" Jon screamed, blinded by the pain.

Grabbing Jon by his long hair, Brad yanked his head up, yelling down at the boy, "DON'T piss me off again!! Understand you are nothing but a stupid, faggot, SUCKBOY!! Got it?? And what's more, you're MY suckboy! As such, you should consider it an HONOR, swallowing my precious seed!! N-o-w, let me hear it!!"

Jon was sobbing again. His butt felt like it was on fire, and it felt like Brad was pulling his hair out by the roots, yanking his head up as he was. Jon didn't know what the quarterback wanted to hear, so he blubbered out, "I'm going to come here whenever you text?"

Apparently, his answer being incomplete, Brad yelled, "Yes, a-n-d???" Jon was totally rattled, looking up in fear at the bully. "I said, A-N-D???"

Again, Jon was clueless. "Umm, I'm going to have all my clothes off?"

"Yes, A-N-D???" Brad demanded.

Jon searched and offered, "Suck your cock and not talk back?"

"Yes, A-N-D???" Brad demanded once again.

"I don't know, Brad..." Jon pled.

"Repeat after me: `I, Jon Swenson, am a COCK SUCKING FAGGOT. I fucking LOVE Brad's GREAT, BIG COCK. In fact, I would MARRY it if I could. I will come home immediately when Brad texts, and I will have my CLOTHES OFF, ready to ENTHUSIASTICALLY SUCK his BIG, BEAUTIFUL COCK, considering it an H-O-N-O-R to do so."

Jon tried repeating all of it--stumbling over phrases, getting them out of order, wherein Brad would yell, "WRONG, cunt face!" or "LOUDER bitch!" In the end, it took Brad five times, repeating the oath, before Jon finally got it more-or-less right and at the correct volume level.

Having thought of it so frequently since that first night, Brad had to get another close-up look at Jon's beautiful cunt, so he pushed the young stud off his lap and ordered him to bend over the bed. Dropping to knees on the floor behind Jon, Brad pulled the hard, reddened globes apart, revealing the boy's little, pink rosebud. "H-o-l-y F-U-C-K, Jon!! You've got a sweeter pussy than Anne! In fact, babe, you've got a sweeter cunt than A-L-L the cunts I've ever fucked! You know that??" Brad was dangerously close to the source of Jon's intoxicating pheromones, and his nostrils flared, obliviously inhaling them.

"It's so pink and small..." Brad murmured--his voice seeming to drift off. "And this ass...it's so fuckin' beautiful..." Brad rubbed and groped the hard, round glutes--sore from their recent maltreatment--as Jon winced in pain, biting his lip to keep from crying out--his face in the bedding. Taking in the whole package, Brad murmured, "Fuck... so goddamn sweet! This ass--or I should say, cunt--is fucking PERFECTION, girl! You must do, like, 500 squats a day, huh?" Busy blocking the pain, Jon wasn't listening and failed to answer, so Brad grabbed his long hair and yelled, "I asked you a q-u-e-s-t-i-o-n, bitch! Do you do 500 squats a day or what?? ...just to get dudes to stare at your cunt?? Is this your game??"

"O-W!! Quit pulling on my hair!! It hurts like hell, Brad!" Jon screamed. "NO, I don't do it to get guys to look at me! Why would you even say that??"

"Because you're a faggot, and that's what faggots do. Now, how many squats do you do, bitch??" Brad pressed.

"Just 100! I've always had this butt," Jon pled.

Brad released his hold, shoving Jon's face back in the bedding, and resumed groping the young stud's sore ass. "See? God made you a faggot, giving you this ass." The handsome quarterback chuckled, adding, "With this cunt and the way you take cock in your throat... Think about it, dumbass! God put you here to serve real men when women aren't around or won't put-out! That's all fags are! It's, like, God put you fags here on earth to help take the pressure off women ...as sort of a natural form of population control. Get it?? And that's what you are, Jon! The sooner you accept this, the better things will be for you!" Brad paused, spotting the bedside clock. "BUT! lucky you, as h-a-r-d as your pussy's got my cock, I don't have time for that: I'm meeting Anne for lunch. Get up and sit on the bed now, and I'll feed you your lunch!"

Brad stood up, and, unbuttoning his jeans, he pushed them, along with his briefs, down his long, muscular thighs. At 6' 4", he towered over the young jock, sitting below in dread, and just like with so many cheerleaders before, Brad grabbed Jon's head, threading his fingers through the his long, blonde hair, speaking seductively, "Tell me you don't want his, babe... You know you do... You fuckin' c-r-a-v-e cock, girl..." Then he pulled Jon's beautiful face into his thick, brown pubes.

The minute Jon's face landed in the soft pubes, a switch flipped in the younger boy's head. Brad had pheromones and a scent of his own--a clean, soapy fragrance that traveled into Jon's brain--and it was soon thereafter the young stud's hands traveled up the back of the football player's hard, hairy, muscular thighs--groping, feeling. Jon stuck his tongue out and licked at the huge base of the giant cock. What had happened so quickly with the handsome, blonde stud?? Was it Brad's scent?? Was it the feel of the quarterback's soft, dense pubes against Jon's smooth face?? Or was it the hypnotizing effect of Brad's thick, mega-cock, standing tall in the young jock's face??

Random thoughts floated through Jon's now-clouded brain. Unquestionably, Brad's body was like an ancient Greek statue--so perfect in every way. Unlike the statues, though, his cock was impressive ...commanding respect...deserving respect. Yeah... Forget about the personality, this body alone elicited awe and respect. Jon owed it that--gay or straight, so his clouded mind determined.

Jon's hands slid up the back of Brad's thighs onto his big, round glutes, cupping and squeezing the hard orbs. The blonde stud's mind traveled to a distant place, as he slid his face down through the soft, brown pubes, extending his pink tongue to lick the god's balls. Licking progressed to sucking, as Jon took each of the big balls into his hot mouth, washing them thoroughly with his long, wet tongue.

Brad watched, as thick, white goo oozed from his cockhead and dripped down into the young stud's beautiful blonde hair--soft, luxuriant hair with which the football hero seemed almost obsessed, running his fingers threw...petting. Brad hadn't told Jon to suck his balls, but the young stud did it on his own--proving beyond a doubt the young bro was a fag...to Brad. Cooing seductively, the quarterback encouraged the boy, "O-o-o-o, that's it, pretty girl! Suck my balls... " Brad's head rolled on his shoulders, ecstatic, as Jon washed and sucked his big eggs. Very few girls, including Anne, would touch his balls--being too squeamish and lacking the knowledge of pleasing a dude. This wasn't the case with fags though: Brad had yet to meet one who was either squeamish or lacking in skill and knowledge. Jon was obviously no exception; he just needed a little coaxing at first.

Jon released the second of Brad's hairy balls, and a long thread of saliva connected it with the boy's wet lips. Again, Jon planted his face in Brad's pubes, running his nose through them, dragging his long tongue behind. He cupped and squeezed Brad's big, hard glutes and pulled the quarterback inward as though he were trying to suffocate himself in the dense pubes--his pink tongue lapping against the base of the cock.

Believing only fags paid this much homage to cocks, Brad pet the young jock's hair, moaning, "Yeah, babe, breathe me in... That's it, lick me, girl... taste me ... Worship that big cock... You're so fuckin' hot, Jon--way hotter than Anne, to be honest--and you don't even know it. I've wanted you for a long time, bro. Why do you think I picked you to be my pledge last year? ... Suck my cock good, babe, and I'll make you my number one bitch ... Fill you up with so much cum, you'll just be another copy of me walkin' around... You wanna be my number one bitch, Jon? You want my babies swimming around inside you?"

Too far gone to speak, the young, blonde stud merely nodded--his head in Brad's hands, his nose against the base of the cock. Only two things mattered to Jon now: pleasing the great cock and taking Brad's seed inside himself. It's fucked-up logic, but in-heat, the young jock was convinced getting the big stud's seed inside him would make him a man again--more like Brad and less like what he'd become lately. A little bit of Brad would always be a part of Jon--always inside him--and that gave him hope. The football hero's DNA would mix with his own, changing Jon--making himself more like the quarterback and more about the ladies again.

Jon's tongue slid up the warm, silky skin on the giant cock shaft--up its 13", to the thing the young, blonde stud needed. Grabbing the thick shaft of Brad's cock, he opened his mouth wide, welcoming the fat, gooey cockhead, while caressing the quarterback's wet ball-sack in his other hand. Jon rolled his warm, wet tongue through the goo on the end of the cock--tasting it, swallowing it, then suckling the head for more. It had a tangy taste, not sweet like Taylor's or tasteless like Chris'.

Thinking of those two hunks and their much nicer personalities, Jon lamented they weren't inside his mouth instead ...but he could pretend, as so edged downward on the giant cock, opening his throat, while rubbing his tongue against the base of its thick shaft. This skill--this talent--came as naturally to the blonde jock as his baseball pitching, for which he won All-State in his division. Now, the All-State champ sat nude on his bed, sporting an erection of his own, with nearly 4" of the horse cock inside his hot, wet, squeezing throat. "O-h-h-h, F-U-C-K! That feels S-O motherfuckin' good, cunt... Y-e-a-h, S-U-C-K my BIG COCK! Choke on it, bitch!" Brad's fingers dug into the back of Jon's head, pushing the buff dude further down his huge meat, until he could feel Jon's hot breath huffing from the boy's nostrils into his dense pubes.

With his mouth stretched so widely around the mammoth piece, Jon's eyes blurred with tears that streamed down his face, mixing with the constant stream of snot and mucus running from his nose. Oh, yeah, this golden boy would give Brad's cock the respect it was owed! Groping and rubbing the hard glutes, Jon whored himself on the cock, bobbing on it to provide Brad the most pleasure. Pushed up around the thick shaft in his mouth from his wildly spasming throat was a steady flow of Brad's rich goo. Leaking out the corners of Jon's mouth, the goo mixed with his tears and mucus, making a thick, white froth that slid down over the blonde jock's chin and dangled in the air, occasionally breaking and falling to the floor. Standing in front of the young stud, fucking his mouth, it was a good thing Brad couldn't see between Jon's widely spread legs, because the fair-complected All-State'r would've blushed crimson if Brad knew his thick, 8" cock stood proudly erect, leaking a stream of goo down its shaft into his blonde pubes below--all without the use of Jon's hands.

Sucking as though he were born to it, Jon's middle finger found itself down between Brad's big globes, pressing on...nudging at...the quarterback's smooth, little rosebud, setting the big stud off. No one had ever touched Brad there. "Oh, yeah, keep doing that... Oh, fuck yeah, there... Oh, fuck, rub it like that..." Jon drew circles around the pink star, tapping on its center, then drawing more circles. "Oh... Oh, fuck, that's great! I don't know which is better--your fuckin' throat or your what you're doing back there..." Then, Jon pressed a little harder, and his finger slipped inside Brad's hot, squeezing hole to the first joint. "O-o-o-o, fuck, yeah! Keep it there... Keep it in there," Brad moaned, pushing back against Jon's forehead. "Keep it in there," he moaned again, freeing his cock from the young dude's reluctant mouth.

For Jon, it was like being woken from a dream; such was his confusion, being pushed off the cock. Brad beat his giant phallus, pointing it directly at the Nordic stud's face, while Jon pushed and twisted his finger in the tight hole. "Keep doing that... Yeah... Yeah... I'm gonna cum... Fuck... Fuck... Fuck..." With that, thick, thick volleys of hot cum shot from Brad's cock, striking Jon's handsome face--on his left eye, on his forehead, under his nose, on his right cheek. The football stud shoved his cock back in Jon's open mouth, finishing inside the wet, sucking orifice.

When he'd come down from his orgasm, Brad stepped back and looked at Jon's face in cross between disgust and pride. "I always wanted to do that. Now, scoop that scum off your face and eat it." That's when Brad noticed Jon's meaty hard-on. "Don't you ever try to tell me you're not a faggot, Swenson! ...not with that goddamned erection! The only person you're fooling is yourself! ...not me, for sure! We should've blackballed you last year! ...never let you in PIKE! You'd better pray no one finds out, besides Taylor and me! And you'd ought to thank God we're Seniors! Jesus Christ! We can't let it be known PIKE's a frat for fags!!"

Jon blushed crimson in shame. He couldn't explain his erection, let alone his apparent `hunger' while sucking cock. Yet again, he'd violated everything he'd been taught, growing up. Jon didn't know what came over him, and, of course, he blamed it mostly on Brad. While the Pro-bound, football hero was, indeed, extorting Jon and fully to blame for forcing him to suck cock, he wasn't responsible for the young stud crazing himself on cock nor for his erection. Not wanting slapped around further, however, Jon did as instructed, scooping the biggest part of Brad's thick cum from his perfect face and eating it.

"Got a towel or something?" Brad grumbled, wanting to wipe his hands clean before meeting Anne.

"Paper towels are on the fridge," Jon quietly answered, referring to the small, dorm-sized refrigerator in the far corner of the room.

As he wiped his hands and put himself back together, Brad tried remembering what he might have said during the wonderful blowjob--concerned he may have said something `soft'. It had been silent a couple of minutes when Brad growled, "Don't get any ideas, alright? Sometimes, `in the moment', we say crazy shit we sure as fuck don't mean, you know? I wouldn't wipe my ass with you, faggot." He paused, putting his arms through the sleeves of his coat. "And remember, you let me know ASAP if and when Taylor wants anything from you. And no fuckin' around with anyone else! Got it??" Jon nodded, anxious for Brad to leave and anxious to wash the scum off his face. "Now, how do you get to the backdoor? I don't want anyone even seeing me coming or going from your faggot house."

Depressed, Jon mumbled, "Go to the end of the hall. There's a back stairwell down to the kitchen, and the backdoor's there."

"Right. Remember to get me a copy of your room key," and with that, Brad was gone--without a `thank you' or `see you later'.

Jon sat a couple of minutes, thinking about his totally fucked situation. He had three dudes on him now--Brad, Taylor, and Chris. Brad and Taylor each wanted Jon to himself--wanting to cut the other out of the deal--and neither knew anything about Chris. Jon had no idea how he was going manage the three bros, let alone keep each of them away--off his tail. What a fuckin' mess! Jon wished he could turn the clock back to the night of the party: he'd have n-e-v-e-r gone to it.

Having a noon class, Jon dressed again, grabbed his soap and a towel, and headed for the bathroom to wash his face. Deeming himself half-way presentable, he put his coat on, threw his backpack over his shoulder, and hurried down the stairs. Opening the front door, there to Jon's right sat Kevin--bundled-up in the cold on the porch swing.

"Uh, Kev..." Jon stammered, "What are you doing out here? I'm just on my way to class."

"N-a-h, you're not going to class, dude." Kevin stood, giving Jon a hateful sneer. "Your `visitor' gone??"

Jon's stomach dropped, and he felt light-headed. Obviously, Kevin had come to his door at some point. As the handsome, dark-haired jock strutted toward him, Jon thought to salvage the situation: perhaps Kevin hadn't heard much. "Um... Yeah, she's gone. She went out the back."

Kevin laughed, firmly grabbed Jon's arm, and opened the heavy front door. "You're so fuckin' funny, Jonny! Let's go up to your room and have a talk."

Fighting to stall for time, hoping Kevin would cool down, Jon pled, "Kevin, I-I-I can't talk now. I've got a class. Let's meet up later--at the Union--where we can talk. Okay?"

Chuckling, Kevin replied, "Fuck that, bro. Get the fuck back inside, now. Dude, you won't believe this, but sitting out here in the cold has given me a h-u-g-e, fuckin' boner."

End -- Chapter 5