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; Secretary-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

 

Caleb Sprouse | Caucasian; Age 16; Short, straight, light brown hair -- long bangs; Brown eyes; 5' 9"; 145 lbs.; High School Junior; High School Lacrosse

 

Finn Michelsen | Caucasian; Age 17; Short, straight, light brown hair; Gray eyes; 5' 11"; 155 lbs.; High School Junior; High School Soccer & Baseball

 

Carver Sprouse | Caucasian; Age 13; Straight, medium-length, blonde hair; Brown eyes; 5' 9"; 135 lbs.; 8^th Grade; Junior High Soccer, Basketball, & Baseball

 

 

-- Chapter 8 --

or Wherein dust and grime are of no concern

and little brothers are such pains in the ass

Four days after Kevin's discovery of Jon's awesome...'talents' (...and one day before he had Taylor swinging on the end of his cock), Kevin still kept his distance from his best friend. It was one thing to get head from a fag, but it was something entirely different, fucking another jock who happened to be your closest friend. Almost all of us are damaged goods, and, despite his coming from a wealthy family, the dark-haired Adonis was no exception. Kevin had nothing against fags. Indeed, they came in handy from time-to-time, though he was loath to disclose this piece of information. Kevin had a certain reputation to maintain--an especially enjoyable reputation of fucking his way through the Kappa Kappa Gammas. Jon had taken Kevin's cock deep inside his man-cunt--he'd taken his precious s-e-e-d inside--and, to Kevin, that made Jon a total faggot. If the hot, blonde stud had merely sucked his cock a little, things might be different, so the current situation left Kevin with much soul-searching.

For his part, Jon was a confused mess--convinced he was straight but believing the sex he'd experienced with Kevin was the best he'd ever had ... despite its requiring the cool, soothing relief of hemorrhoid medication he'd bought surreptitiously at the drugstore downtown. As for Brad, Jon didn't `h-a-t-e' the NFL-bound psychopath, but he certainly disliked--and feared--the dude responsible for turning his world upside down, using liquor and drugs. Brad was, however, someone to be avoided at all costs, Jon determined. If it hadn't been for the famous quarterback, Jon would still be dating Tess, and he wouldn't be trying to find a way to `rewind' his friendships with Chris and Kevin to the way they'd been before--that is, normal, non-sexual friendships.

As far as Jon's friendship with Chris was concerned, the sexy, dark auburn-haired stud met a hot Tri-Delt two nights following his rendezvous with Jon, so while he hung-out with the blonde jock, studying, Chris--as yet--made no sexual demands on Jon ...well, none that amounted to anything, anyway. Dudes always seemed to be drawn to a playing little grab-ass with Jon, especially in high school ...especially on-and-off the football field (and in the locker room). Away at college, having just met Kevin and Chris last year as Freshmen, Jon's new friends took to playing grab-ass with the hot blonde almost from Day 1. Like ducks to water, they were drawn to the beautiful butt, and now that Chris had tasted it, whenever he found himself alone with Jon, his grab-ass'ing had become quite aggressive. For example, around 11:30 one night after studying in Bergman Hall, Chris and Jon stopped in the restroom to take a leak before walking home. At that time of night, the quiet study hall--known almost exclusively only to Greeks--was nearly abandoned. Stepping up to the trough, the two boys did their business, but before Jon could button his jeans, Chris pushed him flat against the nearby wall, pulling the blonde jock's briefs down--over the two, amazing glutes. Rubbing his thick, bare cock up-and-down over the tight crevasse separating Jon's beautiful globes, Chris gruffly whispered, "You're one lucky fuck, you know it?? If I weren't heading to Olivia's right now, I'd be balls-deep inside this sweet pussy." Chris' hot breath, scented by the spearmint gum he'd been chewing, penetrated the long, blonde hair over Jon's ear.

"Not here," Jon panicked.

Chris chuckled, "Oh-Ho! Then you'll let me in this puki another t-i-m-e, huh?? Have you been dreaming about g-o-o-d this cock felt, girl?? ...'cause I've gotta tell you I've been dreaming about g-o-o-d your hot, tight cunt felt wrapped around my meat!" His hands, planted flat over Jon's pecs, squeezed the big, firm muscles lying beneath the shirt, then stepping back, the dark auburn-haired stud grabbed his friend by the waist, pulling the hard, round globes back away from the wall. When Jon tried to stand up straight again, Chris quickly pushed his face flat against the wall again--all the time rubbing his cock up-and-down between the awesome, round globes. "Fuck! You don't know how pissed I am right now, Jon! I wanna fuck your tail so b-a-d right now, but, see, I can't show up at Olivia's with my cock smelling of boy-pussy, feel me?" The first thick, milky bead of cum filled the eye of Chris' cock, as the stud stood there, groping the hard, round globes, humping skin-on-skin over the pale mounds. "F-u-u-u-ck, Jon! You're such a h-o-t bitch... I don't know what it is about you, dude... In a million years, I'd never have guessed a jock like you liked it up the ass! I mean, you sure don't look or act like those fags down at the Student Union."

Despite it being so late and the building being nearly empty of people, Jon was both scared to death at the prospect of being discovered and incredibly aroused by the feeling of his friend's thick cock dry-humping his naked ass ... by Chris' warm mouth in the hair over his ears ... and his friend's big, masculine hands squeezing his pecs. Yeah, the blonde stud liked being manhandled. Jon thought about suggesting they move into a stall, but he couldn't bring himself around to actually `asking' another dude to fuck him, which is essentially what he'd be doing. As good as it felt with Chris then... as hot as his friend was... Jon just couldn't bring himself to `go there'.

"Even before I knew you liked it up the ass, though," Chris continued, "whenever I was around you, I'd get the craziest thoughts, dude! I'm not g-a-y," he hastened to clarify, "but fuck me-e-e if I wouldn't get the biggest boner thinking about eating your sweet pussy! C-r-a-z-y thoughts I didn't have around other dudes! Hey, maybe I can stop by later, huh, Jonny? ...after I get done fuckin' my o-t-h-e-r bitch, what do say?? Seriously, dude, your ass is am--."

Around the corner, the restroom door opened, and the two jocks instantly separated, quickly pulling up their jeans. It was an old restroom...in a building over 100 years old, and its entrance was next to the basins, with the urinals and stalls around the corner. The intruder, however, only stopped inside to wash his hands and primp in the mirror a moment before leaving; neither party saw the other. The scare, though, was enough to ice Chris' balls and hustle the frat boys quickly out the restroom, from the building, and into the black, subzero night. By the time they reached the end of the block, under the tall steeples of St. Mary's Church where they parted--Jon turning left, his buddy turning right--the last thing on Chris' mind was showing up at Jon's later...not in this weather.

* * * * * * * *

The next evening, as he walked the eight blocks to the frat for the mandatory, weekly dinner and meeting, the question of how to `rewind' his friendships...of how to put the toothpaste back in the tube...weighed heavily on Jon's mind. By now, it was obvious Kevin was avoiding him, and the thought the two would no longer be friends tore at 19-year-old's heart. Ironically, it hurt worse than any break-up he'd ever had, including that with Tess. Kevin had initiated their friendship, for which the introverted jock was forever grateful. The dark-haired stud had a way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world (which was likely the reason he was so successful with vain sorority girls). He was exceptionally hot-looking, fun, uninhibited...and unpredictable, and it was this latter quality that bothered Jon at the moment. Kevin was bound to be at the dinner, worrying Jon as to how he'd behave, what he might say. He hoped he'd be able to find an opportunity to speak with Kevin alone, but thinking about such a meeting--trying to find the right words and tone--made Jon a nervous wreck, considering Kevin's volatile temperament and unpredictable personality. Still, it was important to Jon he salvage their friendship.

Complicating the matter additionally would be Taylor's presence. Previously, Jon and Taylor hadn't been friends--or even `friendly'--due to the running back's distant, aloof disposition, but now--thanks to Brad--Jon couldn't keep Taylor off his ass, with the young-Tom Brady lookalike texting Jon numerous times a day for sex. He'd consistently ignored these texts (as best he could), but Taylor's retaliatory behavior a few days ago nearly exposed Jon when Taylor forced the handsome blonde to jack him off during a committee meeting then eat the cum off his hand afterward. (Even thinking about this stunt caused Jon great anguish, unable to repress the memory of Taylor's sweet, creamy goo, making his cock chub against his will.)

How would any of them behave tonight? ...Kevin? ...Chris? ...Taylor? Jon could pretty much count on Chris behaving normally, given he'd done so in public thus far, but Kevin and Taylor were the wildcards, keeping Jon's stomach in constant turmoil.

* * * * * * * *

The mandatory dinner at the PIKE house came and went without a sign of Kevin, depressing Jon even further. He'd asked Kevin's roommate, Todd, a Senior on the university's rowing team, where Kevin might be, receiving the hateful response, "How the fuck should I know?? Like I fuckin' care!" (Todd could be such a prick.)

At the committee meeting, fearing more retaliation from Taylor, Jon sat upfront, next to committee President, Matt Jensen, a Junior and wrestler on the university's wrestling team, avoiding all eye contact with the handsome running back in the second row. While most meetings ran smoothly, other times, it seemed something was surely in the moon, and tonight was one such night. Most of the 23 committee members present were extraordinarily loud and rowdy that night--laughing amongst each other, cracking jokes, talking over each other--forcing Matt to spend most of the evening banging his gavel (to little effect).

This was unfortunate, considering they needed to develop a serious action plan to shore-up PIKE's financing of the annual, university-wide Spring Party held in late April, just before the intense study period preceding Finals Week. PIKE and the sorority Kappa Kappa Gamma traditionally sponsored the one-day event as a way to show-off the popularity of the two, Greek organizations, but the event was quite expensive. Regional bands had been booked to perform; contract workers needed to be hired to assemble and disassemble the stage PIKE kept in storage off-campus; and both PIKE and KKG were required to cover the cost of Campus Security and off-duty policemen. Donations of $10 were requested at entrances to the event, and peer pressure, along with a sticker worn on an attendee's chest attesting to the donation, ensured around 99% of attendees, in fact, donated. A considerable profit, too, was made on the over-priced beer sold inside the event. However, despite these revenue sources, an estimated $17K in additional funds were necessary to pull the event off successfully, and the agenda for tonight's meeting--the second since their return from Christmas break--was centered on this critical issue ...or, at least, Matt was attempting to focus the rowdy frat bros on this subject.

Matt, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, All-American guy, had a controversial idea for raising at least some of these additional funds. That is, it was surprising and controversial coming from Matt--known for his clean-cut, winning personality--and due to the proposal's nature, it only fueled the already rowdy frat bros. "We'll produce a calendar for next year--for pre-sale only--but it wouldn't be just any, ole calendar," Matt began. "It'll be one similar to that of the NYC Fire Department, with the nearly nude firemen. Each month will feature a PIKE, wearing a posing strap...or a Speedo...in a suggestive pose." The room was in pandemonium. "Listen, bros, we have all the hottest athletes! The demand would be out-of-the-roof!! And even using a professional photographer, the cost to produce them would be low. We'd price them at $20, and we'd be hauling money to the bank in wheelbarrows!"

As Secretary-Treasurer, Jon felt compelled to caution, "Let's say we have a $10 margin on each calendar. We'd need to sell 1,700 of them to meet the goal. Do you r-e-a-l-l-y think we could sell $20 calendars to broke college students??" Groans and boos filled the room from the amped frat bros.

Again, Matt banged the gavel, trying to bring some semblance of order to the meeting. "Dude, the margin would be much, much higher than that--more like $15 per calendar. Secondly, there are around eleven t-h-o-u-s-a-n-d babes on campus, and not all of them are that careful with their money. Thirdly, it wouldn't be just chicks buying the calendar: there might be some young, women faculty and staff interested in the calendar as well! ...not to mention a few moms." Matt winked slyly at Jon.

Todd threw more gas on the fire, shouting, "And don't forget the F-A-G-S!!! I'm sure more than a few would like to blow a load of jizz over m-y pic!!" He stood, flexing to a room full of laughing, groaning bros. Then he really got them laughing, adding, "And to get even M-O-R-E fags interested, we could produce a s-e-c-o-n-d calendar, having alternating months of Jon and Taylor's ASSES!! Fags would jizz all over `em! ...in their cracks, on their faces... Dudes, you'd be cool with that, wouldn't ya'? H-e-l-l, even I might even work one or two out on Jon's face!! Like my girlfriend says, `he's so d-r-e-a-m-y."

The room was out of control with laughter, but Taylor took the joking in-stride, standing bent-forward shaking his ass. However, being on edge anyway and unnecessarily paranoid about the subject, Jon exploded, shouting, "Shut the fuck up, asshole!" drawing only more unwanted attention.

Ignoring the banging gavel, Todd led a steady chant among the horny frat bros directed squarely at Jon sitting at the front of the room, "Take it off! Take it off! Take it off! ..." Todd rose, walking toward Jon, ignoring Matt's orders to sit. As he approached the front, the chanting tapered down, but the laughter and joking did not. One jock in the front row whined, "Come on, Jon!! I haven't had any for two weeks now! I'm so horny it h-u-r-t-s, baby!" Another stud in the back stood, grabbing his junk, and pled, "Y-e-a-h, get on all-fours on top of the table, Jonny! Show us your s-w-e-e-t, p-i-n-k Gate to Heaven!"

Standing in front of Jon, smirking, Todd said, "Come on, dude, stand up. Let's do the secret handshake and hug, so everyone knows there's no hard feelings."

There was no apology, Jon noticed, nor did Todd look especially apologetic--between his glinting eyes and smirking lips--but what was Jon supposed to do? So, he stood. Being on the university's rowing team, Todd's chest and arms were highly-muscled--far more than Jon's, who was by no means soft. Todd was also bigger than Jon, weighing over 15 lbs. more than the blonde stud and standing 6' 2" to Jon's 5' 11". The two frat bros shook hands and hugged--something Jon immediately regretted, being hugged tightly, lifted 6" off the floor, and pivoted such that his back faced the room.

All the conditions for a perfect storm were present. Due to all the stress and worry of the past two weeks, Jon had lost nearly 9 lbs. Secondly, he wore a low-cut pair of Diesel jeans that--with Jon's weight loss--slipped even f-u-r-t-h-e-r over his hips. Thirdly, not having done laundry since his return from Christmas break, Jon had gone commando--his soft, smooth skin exacerbating the slippage of the loose jeans. With nearly half of Jon's firm, plump globes on display, the group of testosterone-laden frat bros wound themselves into a near-frenzy, chanting "Take them off! Take them off! Take them off!" Near-chaos ensued, with the noise in the room deafening.

It should have been no surprise, then, when Luke, one of Todd's close friends sitting in the front row, stood and yanked Jon's jeans the rest of the way off his hips with one, solid tug. With Jon struggling to break free of Todd's strong arms, Luke played to the audience of horny frat boys, standing to the side, squeezing and groping the blonde stud's perfectly rounded glutes, sliding his long, thick finger between the two, tight mounds, while much to Jon's absolute horror, his thick, 8" cock began lengthening and hardening. Here and there, frat bros stood and began approaching the front, wanting a good feel of Jon's amazing ass also, however, selfishly wanting his `prize booty' unsullied further, Taylor stood, ordering the guys to sit back down.

Todd tried bending Jon over, intending to show the amped-up frat bros the blonde jock's little, pink flower, but Jon slipped free, landing a solid punch to Todd's nuts, causing the rower to double-over in pain.

Matt, in the meantime, had slipped between Jon and Luke, ordering Todd's friend back to his seat. Then, turning his attention to Todd--still in pain--Matt angrily shouted, "You got what you deserved! Now, take it like a man and get back to your seat!"

Jon had enough for one night! With his jeans back on, he grabbed his coat and laptop and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him so hard one of its panes of glass cracked.

Taylor told Matt he was going after Jon, rushing out the room and down the hall, trailing the hot blonde. "Wait the fuck up, cunt!" he shouted.

Without slowing or looking back, Jon flipped-off his pursuer, shouting, "Go F-U-C-K yourself! I'm out of here!"

Taylor was the BOMC--second in campus popularity only to Brad. Coupled with having been pampered and fawned-over all his life for his good looks and athletic ability, the big jock was unaccustomed to being told to `go fuck himself', tripping his short fuse. Angry, Taylor sprinted down the hall, grabbing Jon by the shirt and throwing him against the wall.

"Listen, CUNT!" Taylor yelled, "NO one tells me to go fuck myself, especially you! Got it??" Equally angry--if not more so--Jon glared back defiantly, refusing to acknowledge his understanding, making the handsome running back even more livid. "Fine, fuck-face!" Taylor growled--his spittle landing on Jon's flawless face. "We were gonna do this anyway, considering you've IGNORED my fuckin' texts, like the little bitch you are!" Grabbing Jon's arm and a fistful of his neck-length, blonde hair, Taylor pushed the young jock forward down the hall until they reached the door to the basement. "Open it, cunt!" Taylor bellowed.

Losing his grip on Jon's hair long enough only to shut the door behind him, Taylor marched the boy down the steps. "Where are we going?" Jon asked, fearing a particular room down there, referred to as `the dungeon'.

"Shut the fuck up," Taylor snapped hatefully. In silence, the big stud pushed Jon forward, down a dark, dusty hallway, past the entrances to a few large storage rooms on either side until they neared the end, where they stopped in front of a heavy, iron door on the left--the main entrance to the old boiler room. This was not the room Jon feared; still, he was nervous, not knowing what laid beyond the door.

Its rusty hinges screeched loudly, as Taylor opened it, ordering Jon through. The house had been converted to central air decades ago, so the stale air inside was heavy with dust, fuel oil, and abandonment. The room was actually divided in half by an interior brick wall with an open doorway in the middle. The entrance room in which they stood housed two, large oil barrels covered in grime and dust; the old boiler stood behind the brick wall in the adjacent room.

Taylor walked to the center of the room, waving his hand in the dark until he found the pull-chain, dimly illuminating the room with a single bulb. An old, metal, office desk sat rusting against the wall next to the door, behind which sat an old, wooden office chair with a loose, grime-covered cushion for padding.

Having secured the light, Taylor closed the iron door, grabbed Jon by his shirt collar, and threw him against the door. "Who the FUCK do you think you are, cunt-face?? When I fuckin' text, you answer me!! When I c-a-l-l, you fuckin' drop everything and answer!!" With his angry face 2" from Jon's, Taylor's flying spittle landed repeatedly on the Nordic stud's handsome face.

"Please, listen to me: I'm n-o-t gay," Jon tried reasoning--wanting to give Taylor his side of the story. If Jon could just get him to understand that Brad used alcohol and drugs that first night to manipulate him, surely Taylor would back-off. He might even help Jon by convincing Brad to stop this little `game' of his. However, all Jon managed to add was, "You've got to believe me! Brad got me...." The handsome running back cut him off. Taylor wasn't interested in anything except getting this drop-dead handsome boy on his knees again.

Laughing, Taylor said flippantly, "Shut. the. fuck. up. I don't care what Brad m-a-y or may n-o-t have done. I don't e-v-e-n care whether you're actually a faggot!" Taylor paused, pressing his entire body against that of the hot, blonde jock--his nose in the long, soft hair over Jon's ear. Inhaling the young stud's intoxicating scent, Taylor's 8" cock filled with blood, with his eyes rolling in his head briefly before regaining control. Speaking low and huskily into Jon's ear, the running back continued, "Here's what I know... Y-o-u had m-y cock inside y-o-u-r throat, a-n-d you fuckin' sucked it like it was your last fuckin' m-e-a-l ... you fuckin' made l-o-v-e to it."

As Taylor ground his hard cock in circles against the younger jock's lower abs, Jon felt his self-control slowly slipping away. You see, the young-Tom Brady lookalike had his own scent radiating from his warm skin, and with Jon's face pressed against the side of Taylor's neck, it wafted seductively into the young jock's brain. Weakened by the fog of Taylor's husky voice--the big cock in Jon's pants hardened with desire, as his breathing became shallow and ragged.

Grinding his hips against the younger jock, Taylor slid his large hands between their tightly pressed bodies, massaging circles on Jon's hard nipples, while continuing to paint a picture for the blonde beauty, "Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, you fuckin' a-t-e my cum...like it was a vanilla shake... Y-e-a-h, pretty boy, you sucked my thick batch of babies down your throat into your belly, where m-y precious DNA mixed with yours, changing you for-ever, dude... You should feel honored, ya' know?

"Anyway, at the very l-e-a-s-t," Taylor purred--his warm breath penetrating Jon's soft hair--"that kind-of makes you a c-o-c-k-sucker... you know... a dude who puts another man's c-o-c-k inside his mouth, s-u-c-k-i-n-g on it... swirling his tongue around the other dude's j-i-z-z-covered c-o-c-k-head... giving the other male immense s-e-x-u-a-l gratification..."

Jon whimpered, losing his battle against the hot stud. Gradually...slowly, his hands moved from pushing against Taylor to wrapping around his back-- rubbing and feeling the powerful back muscles of the university football player.

Squeezing Jon's hard, round glutes, Taylor continued purring, "Y-e-a-h, suckin' another dude's cock... at the expense of his o-w-n gratification... Are you that kinda dude, Jon? Huh?? ...someone who intentionally swallows the other dude's s-e-e-d--recognizing the other dude's superiority, craving the honor of having that dude inside him for the rest of his life..." Taylor's nose dug through Jon's hair until his tongue found the inside the younger dude's ear--licking, tasting, and probing. Groping the blonde stud's big, hard cock through the denim, Taylor's hands raced to unbutton Jon's jeans.

Panting and dizzy, Jon moaned, "Not here... it's filthy down here..." Indeed, Jon's shirt was already ruined by the door's dust and grime. "What about your room? The meetings are still going on, so if we hurry, we can get there without anyone seeing us."

"No, we can't go to my room," Taylor explained--his breath ragged. "My little bro is visiting...to see the college. He's up there now, staying with me." Pushing Jon's jeans down, Taylor added lasciviously, "I mean, we c-o-u-l-d go up there, but then I'd have to share, and that's always been a bit of a problem for me."

Jon's infamous, low-riding Diesel jeans dropped, pooling around his ankles. No way did Jon want t-w-o dudes on him, especially a high school kid. He was having enough trouble with this one. "W-well, why don't we go to my place then? I live by myself," Jon offered, thinking maybe a walk in the subzero weather might cool their balls, giving both the opportunity to cool down and change their minds.

Dragging his nose through Jon's long, soft, hair, Taylor inhaled dangerous levels of the blonde stud's pheromones, while his hands seemed to be everywhere, roaming and groping Jon's hard, round melons... unbuttoning the boy's shirt... Licking the young hunk's neck, Taylor murmured, "N-a-h, babe, we're not goin' out in this sub-zero shit ... You know, this is kinda your fault anyway. You fuckin' walk in a room, and 80% of the dudes throw a bone. Feel it." Taylor grabbed Jon's wrist and shoved his hand between their pressed groins. (80%? For whom was Taylor speaking??)

Jon had trouble breathing, feeling faint and lightheaded. He remembered very well, sucking Taylor's hard, thick, 8" cock--how fuckin' beautiful it looked and how rich and sweet his cum tasted. Reflexively, he squeezed the thick meat inside the running back's jeans. "Yeah, babe... Feel that big cock..." Taylor murmured, pivoting Jon against the desk and throwing the chair cushion on the floor between them.

Taylor stuck a finger in his mouth, coating it with saliva then began digging his long fingers dug between Jon's tight mounds--looking for the little rosebud. The `Big Stud on Campus' felt like he'd been given a roofie, though, unbeknownst to either stud, he was actually succumbing to the blonde boy's powerful pheromones. As Taylor slipped finger inside the tight, little hole, he slurred, whispering, "It's like... I don't know... It's like you've got this c-u-n-t between your legs that fucks with dudes' heads or something... Hot, fuckin' body... Gorgeous fuckin' face... Hot fuckin' ass..."

As Taylor's long, thick finger slid back-and-forth inside Jon's flower, it rubbed across the hard nut deep inside him--the same hard place Chris and Kevin had found with their cocks. A long, low moan escaped Jon's throat, as he slumped his head on the football player's broad shoulder, saturating a patch of the jock's shirt with abundant drool now flowing from his full, wet lips.

"So, see, babe? ... This is all your fault..." Taylor pulled his finger from the hot, squeezing hole, putting it back inside his mouth, coating it with spit before returning it to its new, warm home. So intoxicating was Jon's scent, it didn't even occur to Taylor where his finger had just been. `Pussy' was what his brain told him, and having fingered Beth many times, this pussy tasted so-o-o much better than hers.

Once again sliding his long finger slowly back-and-forth inside Jon's tight, warm hole, Taylor was, by now, rambling--unaware exactly what he was saying. "Do you even, like, realize... last year, you wouldn't have had to do h-a-l-f that pledge shit to get in? Probably three-fourths of the actives voted for you, because they wanted to fuck you..." Both frat jocks panted, moaning wordlessly a couple of minutes...with Taylor inhaling more-and-more of Jon's inebriating scent. "Brad hasn't fucked you yet, has he?" When Jon murmured `no', the football stud slurred, "That's good... Your cunt... your cunt, dude... I fuckin' love your cunt..." It didn't make any sense, but the football jock might as well have smoked a dozen, fat blunts--he was so high on Jon's pheromones. Taylor wrapped his hand around Jon's thick cock...or at least as much of it as possible...stroking the big, slimy meat up-and-down, while he slid his tongue up the blonde jock's neck and once again into his ear.

"F-u-u-u-u-c-..." Jon groaned, holding the football jock tightly, rubbing Taylor's smooth, warm back. The delirium of the blonde Adonis was interrupted by Taylor driving his long, thick tongue urgently inside Jon's warm, wet mouth. The young-Tom Brady lookalike held Jon with one hand on the small of his back and the other the back of his head. Under the spell of Taylor's gifted tongue and powerful hands, Jon needed more, wanted more. He wanted to make the hot football stud feel as good as he, himself, was being made to feel. But even more than that, Jon needed cock. He fuckin' craved it now. This dude's cock... Jon wanted it in his wet, hungry mouth. A switch had been flipped in Jon's brain, and a primal need had to be filled. Fuck everything else. Fuck chicks. He'd do anything to pleasure for this stud ...and his cock. Cock was king. Cock was the shit. As they kissed, Jon struggled with the stud's obstinate belt and jeans buttons ...until finally getting them open.

With his tongue still deep in Jon's wet mouth, Taylor eagerly pushed his own jeans and briefs down, over his high, round ass, letting them drop to the floor below. Taylor nudged his sneakers off and stepped out of the pile at his feet, pushing them to the side. He didn't notice or care that he now stood on the filthy cement floor in his bare feet. Breaking the kiss only briefly, Taylor pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the desk behind Jon, and was again all over the hot younger stud in front of him--his fingers woven in the long, thick hair on the back of Jon's head, groping his hard, round glutes with the other hand.

With the hot football player now pressed against him skin-on-skin, kissing, Jon's hard, thick cock became trapped between Taylor's hairy thighs--lifting the stud's big balls, rubbing across his taint. Taylor let Jon's cock remain captive there, tingling in the sensation of having another dude's meat between his legs for the first time. They stood like that, kissing for some time until their mutual slobber left Jon's beautiful Nordic mouth sloppy--saliva dripping from his chin. Jon was somewhat relieved when Taylor finally broke the kiss, being seconds from blowing his load over the running back's balls and taint.

With his eyes glazed-over, Taylor murmured unintelligibly, sounding drunk or drugged, and lowered his handsome face to Jon's hard pec, locking his wet lips over the flat, pink nipple, sucking and licking hungrily. "F-u-u-u-u-c-k..." Jon moaned, clutching the running back's head to his chest. His fingers remained woven in the big jock's hair as his face dropped lower ...down, across Jon's smooth, ripped abs ... until Taylor found himself on his knees on the chair cushion he'd thrown there earlier (to be used by Jon).

Taylor lifted Jon's leg and pulled the loose jeans over his shoes, handing them up. "Put `em on the desk," he slurred. "Gonna bend you over `n eat your sweet cunt." Taylor wasn't looking up at Jon, though: he was rubbing Jon's hard, muscular thighs, admiringly. Things were going a-l-m-o-s-t as he'd planned--the plan being to bend the hot blonde over the desk and give him the fucking of his life.

Yeah...Taylor had planned this all day-- angry and fed-up over Jon having completely ignored his texts and calls for over a week now. With his younger brother visiting and the weather being so shitty, Taylor couldn't think of anywhere to teach Jon a lesson...until he thought of the abandoned boiler room. Stuffing some bath towels and a bottle of lube in a duffle bag, the big jock slipped unnoticed down to the basement--to the old boiler room, where he left the open duffle bag under the desk, in front of the old office chair. The trick was getting Jon down there that evening without drawing attention, but with Jon leaving the meeting early in a huff, Taylor's plan went m-u-c-h smoother than he could have imagined.

Rubbing the blonde stud's muscular thighs, feeling the fine, blonde hairs lightly covering them, the scent of Jon's cum, coupled with his powerful pheromones, filled Taylor's brain, numbing it to all else. Although he saw hand wrapped around Jon's thick shaft, it didn't register in the handsome jock's brain: neurons were misfiring, messages were scrambled. Taylor imagined himself knelt before some sort of young, Nordic god, paying homage, jacking his big, perfect phallus. "W-h-a-t a fuckin' cock," Taylor murmured, staring at the glistening meat and the light blonde pubes from which it rose. In the dim light, he watched as a thick, white pearl filled cockhead's eye. "Yeah, what a beautiful, fuckin' cock," Taylor mumbled again. He was not himself. He was numb, kneeling before a new god--a beautiful, fragrant new god, demanding proper supplication. Taylor was too dangerously near the source of Jon's intoxicating scent.

Jon closed his eyes, running his fingers through Taylor's dark blonde hair, luxuriating its thickness and softness. He caught his breath, feeling the running back's hot, moist breath, as the `Big Stud on Campus'...on his knees...leaned-in smelling Jon's light blonde pubes. Then, in a few seconds more, the younger boy's breath escaped him, as the head of his big phallus was encompassed by the soft, warm wetness of the Taylor's mouth.

Jon's rich, addictive seed bathed Taylor's tongue, quickly acting as an aphrodisiac for the university running back whose nostrils flared in a hot hunger. With his free hand, the handsome jock grabbed and groped Jon's hard, round ass, while jacking the big cock in his mouth desperately wanting more of the boy's thick, sweet goo. The football hero... the strutting pussy-magnet...rubbed the young stud's big balls, jacking the big cock in his mouth, craving more of this boy-god's rich offering...his thick, sweet nectar.

More than it being just Taylor's long-repressed sexuality, it was also this particular golden boy. Growing up, Taylor had `crushes' on other dudes, fueling his self-hate, but when Jon came on the scene a year and a half ago, the big jock's frustration grew exponentially. Since then, he and Beth's relationship had gone downhill, arguing frequently and having only mediocre sex...when they had it. Their relationship evolved to being co-dependent one, with Beth hanging on to Taylor as a `trophy' and Taylor hanging on to Beth as `cover'.

Tonight, Jon's smoldering looks and seductive scent simply overpowered the hot jock. Things weren't going quite as Taylor planned, though--not that any of this occurred to him in the moment. Intoxicated on Jon's thick, white goo, Taylor rubbed the young blonde's taint, slipping one of his long fingers just between the plump, tight globes, rubbing the pad of his finger across the Adonis' smooth, pink rosebud--doing anything to encourage increased production of the copious elixir.

Naturally, Jon thrilled at Taylor's whorish talents, though a subtle resentment nagged at his consciousness. Here was the `best friend' of Brad, who'd been so eager to take advantage of Jon--from the beginning that afternoon in Brad's room, making him suck his cock and calling him degrading names. The big jock on his knees bobbing and twisting on Jon's cock was the same dude who'd sent him so many threatening text and voice mail messages. The dude on his knees rubbing his balls was the same jock who'd jeopardized Jon's status within the frat, making Jon jack him off in the back of the room full of frat bros ... And Jon's fingers tightened in the football jock's thick hair. There was no doubt in the young stud's mind that Taylor would continue harassing him, when, in reality, it was Taylor who was the cock-hungry faggot!

Then Jon began putting pieces of the puzzle together--though not in the correct places. With Taylor having skills w-a-y the fuck better than any girl who'd ever sucked his cock, the big football stud had most certainly sucked cock many times before! (This, of course, was incorrect, but you can see how Jon came to this conclusion...what with Taylor whoring himself so completely on the big cock.)

Though tonight was, in fact, Taylor's first cock, it would not be his last. Late the following night--full of regret, sadness, and self-hate--you can now see why Taylor was so-o-o depressed when Kevin ran into him in the hallway, and being so despondent, you can see how his will was no match for Kevin's well-practiced, highly refined skills of seduction.

People make incorrect assumptions all the time, and just like Jon, Taylor made them also. When Kevin laid nude on Taylor's bed the following night clearly trying to seduce the hot running back, Taylor let his guard down, thinking, because Kevin and Jon were best friends and because Jon was into gay sex, it was surely the case Kevin and Jon fucked around. After all, Taylor had watched Kevin grab-assing Jon countless times. Many times, he'd watched Kevin come from behind Jon and start dry-humping him. Being well-known for having an insatiable sexual appetite, it wasn't hard, therefore, for Taylor to conclude Kevin was surely fucking Jon senseless. After all, who could resist Jon's amazing ass? If indeed Kevin and Jon fucked around together, it was then s-u-r-e-l-y safe, for Taylor to descend into faggotry with Kevin just one. more. time. What's more, it was Kevin coming-on to Taylor, laying naked on the bed tweaking his pecs, and who in their right mind could resist the exceptionally handsome, dark-haired stud.

Similarly, in the boiler room that night, Jon drew some incorrect conclusions, as Taylor bobbed and moaned on his big cock. "Oh-h-h, f-u-c-k..." Jon moaned, ecstatic as the hunky football jock swirled his tongue around Jon's big, gooey cockhead, "You fuckin' L-O-V-E cock, don't ya'??" Taylor moaned around the cockhead, drunk on its rich seed. A former high school quarterback himself (and one who'd never stopped going to the gym), Jon tightened his grip, pushing more of his perfect cock inside the whoring mouth. "So who's the f-a-g-g-o-t now? Huh?? Have you been faggin' for me all along? ...wanting my c-o-c-k??" Fueled by his mistreatment at Taylor's hands, Jon began to get a little rough on the older jock, with his big cockhead banging on the door to Taylor's throat. Get your fuckin' hand off my cock, bitch, and open-up!! You want my c-o-c-k, I'll give you cock! ... Fuckin' threaten me! Fuckin' torment me! ...when all along it's Y-O-U who's the faggot! Thanks to you and your buddy, B-r-a-d-l-e-y, I lost Tess! I lost my INNOCENCE! I didn't know a-n-y-thing about suckin' cock or getting fucked in the ass! ...but y-o-u helped take all that away from me! Didn't ya'??"

Taylor's scalp hurt where Jon gripped and yanked his medium-length, dirty blonde hair, but he didn't really care about that. For some reason, Jon's words disturbed him more than the physical treatment he was receiving. However, Taylor's brain was too clouded by Jon's erotic pheromones and warm musk--his bloodstream too drugged by the opiate of Jon's rich cum--for the football star to make much sense of anything going on.

Taylor groped the blonde stud's hard, smooth globes, fueling the running back's desire even m-o-r-e. Jon's thick cock stretched Taylor's mouth wider than it had ever been--its head now finding a home deep inside Taylor's hot, tight, wildly contracting throat. Through his tears, the `Big Stud on Campus' could see he was nearing the fragrant nest of light blonde pubes. This was Taylor's goal, wanting nothing more than to please this Nordic god, for whom he'd yearned since first seeing Jon at the Rush party. Many nights, the hot running back stood in a shower stall, beating his meat, thinking of fucking Jon's face. As Taylor's obsession with Jon deepened, his desire for Beth waned, and when they d-i-d have sex, the only way Taylor could cum was to picture the hot, young Adonis from whose cock he now finally fed.

"Ah-h-h, f-u-c-k!" Jon moaned, "That feels so-o-o good!! Y-e-a-h, that's it... m-i-l-k my big, fuckin' cock! ... You've sucked cock before, haven't you?? Are you Bradley's little suck-buddy? Huh?? You suckin' your quarterback's big cock?? Fuck! ...you're probably suckin' each other off! ...probably every night!! You're both fuckin' hypocrites! ...fuckin' fake-ass bitches! You know, I don't care if you two are gay! It's what you did to me that's wrong! ...fuckin' with my head ...making lose my friendships a-n-d my girl..."

Jon may have been smaller than Taylor, but at that moment, he looked like a naked god. Muscles rippled under his pale, sweat-sheened body, as Taylor--on his knees--groped Jon's firm, round globes, whoring himself on the younger dude's perfect cock. Rhythmic thrusting into the widely stretched throat, Jon's long, blonde hair repeatedly fell forward, causing him to periodically lose his grip on Taylor's head to pull the long, thick, golden strands behind his ears ...yet Taylor continued working the Nordic cock on his own, not even noticing the absence of the painful, gripping fingers.

From around Taylor's widely stretched lips oozed a white, copious stream of Jon's viscous precum, which merged with the tears and snot running down the handsome football player's face. Flowing downward, the mixture formed long ropes that hung from Taylor's chin and broke, alternately splattering the jock's pecs or Jon's muscular thighs, as Taylor whored himself on the beautiful cock. The big, handsome jock didn't care, though: groping Jon's hard, round melons, forcing more cock inside his tight throat, Taylor was too busy supplicating--indeed, abasing--himself before his new, phallic god, proffering his loyalty and devotion.

Through teary vision, Taylor beheld the boy-god's rippling abs, his slender waist, and the "V" pointing the way to the running back's o-n-l-y desire: the dense, light blonde pubes, wherein he yearned to bury his nose in their aphrodisiacal perfume. The pheromones made Taylor high. They made him crazy. His only purpose now was to please this natural beauty for whom he'd longed all this time. It was his one opportunity to prove his worthiness to the blonde stud.

Soon, Taylor had his nose buried deep in Jon's soft, intoxicating bush--his mouth and throat stretched impossibly wide around the boy's big cock. Breathing only through his nose...with his face in the blonde stud's warm, fragrant groin, Jon's inebriating fragrance quickly overloaded Taylor's circuits. He felt higher than the time last year when he'd taken GHB at a circuit party. All he wanted was this cock and its rich, sweet cum. Pulling his mouth up-and-down the fat cock, working in tandem with Jon's thrusting hips, Taylor's hot, tight, spasming throat gave Jon the best blowjob he'd ever experienced, bringing him very close to orgasm. It was then, however, that something caught Jon's eyes--the open duffle bag on the floor...and the big bottle of K-Y Jelly lying on top of the white bath towels inside.

Suddenly, Taylor was being shoved off the pleasure-giving phallus. A long, thick strand of slime hung from the running back's red, swollen lips, stretching across the open space to the blonde stud's beautiful cock. "You had this all planned out! Didn't ya??" Jon yelled, now even more angry. Pulling the bottle of lube from the bag, Jon shouted, "You were gonna bring me down here and fuck me, weren't you?? ...you sick son-of-a..." He paused, calming himself, then added, "There's been a `change of plans'. Get up." When Taylor continued kneeling--his eyes glassy--Jon shouted, "I s-a-i-d, get up! Get up and bend over that fuckin' desk!!" Heavily drugged by the blonde stud's erotic, opioid-like scent and rich, thick cum, Jon grabbed the running back by his hair, pulling him up on his feet and pushing him over the rusting, dust-covered desk.

Taylor's problem now was that his face lay in Jon's open jeans, tossed on the desk earlier. Specifically, it laid right where Jon's bare ass had been all evening, so he might as well have been given morphine.

Pushing the jock over the desk, Jon finally saw--in the flesh--the thing about which most of the bros salaciously joked: Taylor's high, round glutes. Before this moment, Jon figured he'd never be able to fuck a dude's ass--any ass, for that matter--thinking it kind of gross and a little bit barbaric, animalistic. N-o-w, though, seeing Taylor's amazing ass, he tossed those previous beliefs out the window. Rubbing and feeling the big, hard melons the younger stud's cock ached with desire, belching a glob of precum down the back of Taylor's leg.

"W-h-o-a..." Jon murmured, stunned, staring at his hand on the awesome globes, "Your ass looks like a chick's...except hard." He stood mesmerized a moment then continued, "It's fuckin' a-m-a-z-i-n-g, dude..." If he hadn't been holding the bottle of lube, both his hands would've been all over this ass, groping. Jon murmured, "You got an ass for d-a-y-s, girl... I think it could be addictive ...I'm afraid." Taylor heard nothing, though: he was now to busy licking and sucking the inside seat of Jon's jeans, paying particular attention to the back seam covered with Jon's oils and scent.

As mentioned earlier, Jon had made some incorrect assumptions about Taylor and his best buddy, Brad, based on the running back's Olympic gold medal cocksucking abilities. Firstly, being aloof and standoffish, Taylor's only close friend was Brad. Secondly, the day Taylor sauntered into Brad's room, he seemed to know immediately what Brad was making Jon do--as though Brad and Taylor had planned the whole cock fest that subsequently occurred. Thirdly, Brad and Taylor seemed comfortable performing sexually together that afternoon, which made Jon think it wasn't the first time such situation had happened. Given all this, Jon assumed Taylor had honed his gold medal cocksucking skills practicing on Brad. This assumption seemed reasonable but, in fact, was incorrect.

Standing there rubbing and squeezing Taylor's plump glutes, Jon asked, "Does butt-buddy, B-r-a-d, tell you what a hot ass you have... while he's fuckin' you??" The running back was nonresponsive--too preoccupied rubbing his nose in and licking the inside crotch of Jon's jeans.

Pulling Taylor's hard, round glutes apart, Jon was surprised by the erotic beauty of the big jock's delicate, pink star. "F-u-u-u-c-k me-e-e... You have one s-w-e-e-t, little pussy back here, babe..." Jon whispered, holding Taylor's big glutes apart, rubbing his big, hungry cock up-and-down the football star's tight crevasse. Stopping to rub his gooey cockhead against the virgin rosebud, the little flower looked too small to accommodate his sizable meat, but, having taken two dudes' cocks up his own, tight hole, Jon discarded his momentary concern. Seeing something as beautiful as Taylor's big, hard mounds and the little flower between, the opportunity would've been impossible for most young, red-blooded males to pass-up, and Jon was no exception.

The fact he could easily have been on the receiving end of this affair coupled with Jon's annoyance over the constant texts and threats drove the younger stud forward. "Hey, bitch," Jon taunted--his eyes heavily lidded and nostrils flared--"you ready for my cock?? You ready to get fucked like a g-i-r-l?? Wonder if Coach Hastings knows his big-shot running back likes takin' it up the backside! Wonder if he knows his pretty-boy running back likes suckin' his quarterback's c-o-c-k--that is, w-h-e-n he's not spinning on it like a top!! Makes me wonder who else has been up this sweet, little pussy..." Jon chuckled, "Big whore like you... you probably play `drop the soap' all the time in the showers, don't ya'?? Probably spend most of the time in the locker room just flaunting this hot ass all, right?? Well, listen-up! ..."

Pouring lube on his middle finger, the Nordic Adonis pressed it inside Taylor's hot, gripping hole, rousing the big football star from his pheromone- and cum-induced stupor. "I s-a-i-d, listen-up! After tonight, we're even--you and I. No more threats! No more texts! And most importantly, no more Brad! You get your little butt-buddy back on his chain! I don't care how you do it, just do it! Got it??"

With Jon's middle finger unceremoniously probing Taylor's man-cunt, the young-Tom Brady lookalike tried raising himself off the desk, but weakened from ingesting Jon's inebriating cum and inhaling the blonde stud's seductive pheromones, Jon easily overpowered him. With his hand against the small of Taylor's back, Jon shoved him back down across the desk, sneering, "Go back to sucking my jeans, ya' fuckin' pervert..." When Taylor looked back over his shoulders with a fearful look in his eyes, Jon sarcastically asked, "What?? You want some more c-u-m, is that it??" Drawing two fingers together and pressing them across the head of his eager cock, Jon gathered a glob of the rich, white stuff and leaned over the handsome jock, saying, "Here! I got something for ya'... Open your mouth!" Smelling the aphrodisiac shoved under his nose, Taylor opened his wet mouth, sucking on the younger boy's fingers. "Ooooo..." Jon moaned at the sensation of the hot jock's tongue swirling around and between his fingers, "You're a hungry one tonight, aren't ya'?? Are you a hungry, little girl-thing, Tay-Tay?? That's what your b-o-y-friend calls you, right?"

If but he comprehended (or even heard) Jon's snide remarks--which is highly suspect--you'd never know it. Taylor grabbed Jon's wrist, holding his hand still, and drew the blonde boy's fingers fully inside his mouth, sucking and tonguing them ...'like a calf with a tit', Jon thought, having grown up on a farm. With the warm, wet tongue swirling around his fingers, Jon's cock belched more precum, as he moaned, "Oh-h-h fu-u-uck... I could get used to this..."

After a minute, though, Jon's cock--now sliming up-and-down Taylor's crack--was eager for its turn at the football jock. "O-kay, that's enough," Jon announced, "Let go of my hand." After a minute or so, however, Taylor continued holding Jon's wrist in his grasp, moaning and sucking on the blonde stud's fingers, so the younger boy grabbed the running back's hair, pulling his head back. "That's e-nough, I said! Now, let go of my hand! Go back to suckin' my jeans like you were before!"

His hands free again, Jon pinned his hair behind his ears and lubed a finger, working it inside Taylor's smooth, pink star--still clueless he was about to take the big jock's anal virginity. With the probing finger, Taylor groaned but oddly seemed to want the inevitable, pushing his high, round ass back on Jon's finger. The young, blonde stud poured more lube around the tight hole and over a second finger, patiently working it in alongside the first. Almost from the onset, Jon's fingers brushed across the hard nut inside, eliciting a series of deeper, longer moans from the handsome jock.

Jon shook his head, still in disbelief Taylor Harris--BMOC--was gay. Not once over the year and a half he'd known the hot stud had Jon thought the dude was anything but straight. "Yeah?? You like that, girl??" Jon taunted, coating his fingers with lube and pressing them back inside the hot, squeezing hole. "Hey! I asked you a question. You like this, girl? You like my fingers inside your hot c-u-n-t??" Twisting his fingers like a corkscrew, Jon plunged them in-and-out, repeatedly hitting the hard nut inside the jock's cunt. Taylor rolled his head on his shoulders, moaning and pushing his ass higher. Whatever Jon was hitting seemed directly wired to centers in his brain giving him unbelievable pleasure. "Answer me, bitch, or I swear I'll stop," Jon threatened.

His breath ragged, Taylor immediately answered, moaning, "Yeah, y-e-a-h... D-don't stop..." Each time Jon's twisting fingers retreated, the young-Tom Brady lookalike now regularly pushed his hot ass back, trying to keep them inside his cunt. Lights flashed in his brain, and he felt lost in a sea of pleasure.

Riffing on Brad's last name, van der Meer, Jon taunted, "So how long have you and van der Bitch been gettin' it on, huh?? ...since you were Freshmen?? Do you two meet late at night, so he can fuck you under the goal posts??" Not really listening, Taylor moaned into Jon's jeans, rotating his butt on the pleasure-giving fingers. "Jesus Christ!" Jon exclaimed, "Are you, like, totally d-e-a-f now?? I wanna know how long you and van der Bitch been boffing each other? Answer me, bitch, or I s-w-e-a-r I'll walk outta this room right now!"

"We're just FRIENDS! I've never done anything like this before! Can't you get that through your thick head??" Taylor yelled, angry by Jon's suggestion he and Brad were anything other than friends. "And I'm NOT g-a-y! Don't you get it??" he added, causing Jon to burst out laughing.

"I don't even know how to respond to that! I mean, you should fuckin' s-e-e yourself now...moaning and hikin' your pussy up in the air! You not only look like some whore in a porno, you fuckin' suck cock like one too!! You're not only a Conference football champ, you're a Conference cocksucker too!! So seriously, I wanna know how long have you and B-r-a-d been cornholing each other??"

"Ah-h-h, fuck!" Taylor moaned, "Right there! Oh, y-e-a-h! It's so g-o-o-d..."

Unceremoniously, Jon yanked his fingers out, demanding an answer. "Tell me right now."

"We're NOT doing a-n-y-thing with each other. Brad's straight. You're the only one I've ever messed around with! He doesn't know about me," Taylor insisted, irritated with Jon's questions.

Jon pounced on the slip. "Oh-h-h!! So you a-d-m-i-t you're gay!!"

"No! That's n-o-t what I meant! Can we just stop talking??" Taylor argued.

"Can we just stop talking...and FUCK? Isn't t-h-a-t what you mean? Well, s-u-r-e! Let's FUCK!" Jon mocked. Wiping his fingers on Taylor's thigh, the younger stud gathered more of his thick goo and spread it below Taylor's nose, adding, "T-h-e-r-e, that ought to calm you down a little, Princess. N-o-w try getting it in your tummy..." The thick cum provided the calming effect, though not because Taylor necessarily wanted to eat it (though, of course, he did); rather, its warm fragrance filled Taylor's brain, giving him that GHB feeling again ...and even more eager for cock.

Jon lined his thick, eight-inch cock up with the narrow valley separating Taylor's the big mounds, sliding it up-and-down the narrow valley...across the now-glistening, pink star--all-the-time pouring lube over his beautiful meat. Lining its bullet-shaped head to Taylor's little hole, Jon pushed and pushed, unable to gain entry. Trying to distract the big football star, Jon slapped his hard, round ass several times--pushing his big cockhead against Taylor's sweet, little joy-box ... until suddenly, the hot, virgin cunt walls were clamped tightly around the violating meat.

Taylor's eyes went wide, as searing pain shot through his body. At first, he couldn't speak, feeling as though the air had been knocked from him. Then he began yelling, pleading for Jon to take it out, but the blonde stud was having none of it. As Jon's tormentor and would-be rapist, Taylor's screams fell on deaf ears. Jon was acutely aware that, had Taylor's scheme worked, it would've been he thrown over the desk screaming now. This was about stopping the threatening, demanding messages and teaching this hot jock a lesson ...or so Jon told himself.

After a minute or so, Jon withdrew his cock, leaving the handsome football player sobbing intensely on the desk. Taylor's peace was short-lived, though, as Jon lubed his big cock again and shoved it all the way inside the hot, tight man-cunt. Leaning over Taylor's broad back, Jon clamped his hand over football player's mouth, growling in his ear to be quiet, reminding him of the unwanted attention his screams would bring. "Shut your fucking mouth! ...unless, of course, you want a-l-l the bros down here pulling a train on this sweet pussy! Is that what you want? ... You want Luke and Todd and Jordan and the whole, fucking house down here plowing this hole? How about the pledges? You want the little Freshmen down here fucking you too??" Taylor's sobbing continued, partially silenced by Jon's hand, so the sexy blonde stud lowered his voice, whispering in the big jock's ear, "Of course, what do I know? Maybe you do... And let me remind you: had things gone as you planned, it would've been ME bawling right now! One thing's for sure, though: no one in his right mind would believe I'm raping you--n-o-t the university's big, tough running back, so-o-o much bigger than me. Besides, I'm not sure you could call this rape--not the way you've been carrying on around me the past couple of weeks..."

The evening certainly hadn't gone as Taylor planned. Laying across the desk, he didn't understand how things turned out so different from what he'd planned, but his immediate focus now was the unbelievable pain emanating from his backside. With the young stud's pubes rubbing against his full, ripe globes, Taylor realized Jon's entire cock filled his no-longer-virgin flower. How his ass could possibly accommodate that beautiful cock, Taylor, he couldn't imagine. Three memories suddenly flashed in sequential order across Taylor's mind. He'd been here before--not his o-w-n virginity, of course, rather, those of three girls during his teen years. They'd each cried as well, pleading for him to stop, but what horny, teenage boy stops at that point? ...very few, and Taylor was no exception. Along with the tears, there'd been blood, and with the intense pain currently shooting through his body, the big jock thought he was surely ripped and bleeding.

As Taylor's sobbing continued, Jon's true nature pushed back against the vengeful disposition that had taken hold of him, and guilt flooded over him. He was no better than the others, Jon thought. He should've pushed Taylor off his cock, dressed, and walked out. He probably could have, at that point, Jon reasoned. "Sh-h-h, now," Jon whispered. His animalist desires fought with his kind personality, as Taylor's violated passage spasmed wildly around the invading phallus trying desperately to push it out. The sexual pleasure for Jon was so-o-o great, as he continued laying on top of Taylor, wrapping his arms around the football stud, squeezing Taylor's hard, smooth pecs. "Believe me, it'll feel better in a bit..." Jon murmured. Pausing, he added, "I'll make it really good for you ... but I'll stop now, if you want me to..." Pushing his nose through Taylor's soft, thick hair while squeezing his awesome pecs, Jon shushed the bigger, older frat bro, whose sobbing gradually lessened but who otherwise remained silent. Jon asked the question again, "Do you want me to stop, Taylor?" But again, Taylor said nothing ...which the young, blonde stud took as a green light ...or maybe yellow.

Draped over the hot football player, Jon's body glistened with sweat--his beautiful, hard globes mounted on Taylor's included. Recalling his experiences with first Chris then Kevin, the muscular, young Adonis knew that taking it slow at first was crucial for making the overall experience mind blowing, and, being competitive, Jon wanted to be at least as good a lover as his friends.

That's when the epiphany hit Jon: in spite of all his attempts at suppressing it, he was really feelin' this man-on-man stuff! Yeah, he'd really gotten-off on the sex with Chris and Kevin. In fact--as long as he was being honest with himself--Jon was itching for m-o-r-e cock, hoping, deep down, that Chris or Kevin would show up at his room some night with their beautiful, hard cocks, ready for another dip inside his tight cunt. Fuck, it didn't even have to be night if they showed; they could come anytime they wanted! Even if they just wanted blowjobs, Jon would be cool that too. Inside his wet mouth or hot, tight cunt, Jon didn't care, as long as they kept it quiet. He could trust those two, he thought, because, whatever the case, Jon wanted to salvage his masculinity. `Maybe I can be bi?' Jon hoped, `Just have some cock on the side from time-to-time.' The image of being spit-roasted by Chris and Kevin flashed through Jon's mind, causing him to grind and rotate his full, round ass against Taylor's. He used to think cocks were dirty things on which to look, but n-o-w... n-o-w, the hot, blonde stud was beginning to consider them as beautiful, powerful.

Jon knew, even before any of this happened, he'd been scoping-out dudes, though he'd told himself he was only sizing-up the competition...for the babes. The problem, however, was, sometimes, his cock filled with blood, looking at dudes in the locker room, making Jon embarrassed and angry with himself--that is, until he convinced himself a-l-l these hard-ons were due to raging, teenage hormones. Whatever the case, Jon insisted he couldn't be g-a-y...maybe bi, but not g-a-y.

The space inside Jon's brain for these types of thoughts quickly dwindled, with baser instincts more-and-more taking their place, as Taylor's hot, wet cunt milked the younger frat bro's big cock. Any concern as to whether to proceed, Jon decided, was ridiculous: of course, Taylor wanted Jon to fuck him! Not only had the running back remained silent when asked, but he'd also whored himself on Jon's meat as no other person ever had. The time for thinking or worrying was over. As Jon slowly raised his perfect globes then slowly lowered them, Taylor renewed his crying, though it was less intense than earlier. "Dude, Brad must not have fucked you in a long time, huh?" Jon whispered in hot stud's ear. "I mean...I'm nowhere near as big as him, and you act like I'm ripping you apart."

Through his tears, Taylor snapped, "Shut the fuck up about Brad! I've told you this is my first time, so knock it off with the Brad shit!"

It was quiet a moment as Jon reconsidered. Maybe he had misjudged Taylor's relationship to the asshole who'd fucked-up his life, BUT as sexually aroused as Jon was, he'd have to think about that later too.

"W-e-l-l," Jon purred--his sweet butt slowly rising and falling--"ya' gotta admit, just minutes ago, you were suckin' my cock like I've never had done before. I don't know how you got so good so quickly...you know, not having done it before." Jon licked Taylor's ear, and trying to lighten the mood, he joked, "Hell, there for a minute, I thought you were gonna give me a ring!" Jon chuckled, slowly rotating his hips, grinding his pubes into Taylor's hard, round glutes. "You gotta admit," Jon purred, licking the side of big stud's face, "It's kinda funny how you just jumped on me the minute you knew Brad was making me suck him off... texting me... calling me... threatening to `o-u-t' me if I didn't come suck you off... making me jack you off the other night during that meeting... then tonight, how you marched me down here, where you'd stashed your duffle bag and `thrusting paste'. Were you planning to `make love' to me or be mean about it? Huh?" Jon licked down the length of the running back's neck and back up, settling inside the jock's ear, where--between sniffles--he got his first, faint `fuck-moan' from Taylor. The hot stud ignored Jon's question, thinking his answers might concede his sexuality--something he couldn't consciously admit yet.

"I think you put up a big, tough front, pushing dudes like me around ...when really," Jon licked down across Taylor's face, toying his tongue at the edge of the big jock's open mouth. "...when really, you'd rather go down on their big, fat cocks. Ain't that right? Instead of you pushing them around, maybe you rather they push you around... say, in a filthy room like this, over an old desk covered in grime? What `d ya' say, huh, big guy?? That's how it rides, isn't it?" Jon tongued the football stud's ear again, kissing down his thick neck until he reached its crook, where he sucked...and sucked hard to the sound of Taylor's moans.

Jon picked up speed, bouncing against the running back's hard, round globes, rotating his own, even more beautiful ass. Sweat running from Jon's temples caught the long, blonde hair, matting it to the side of his face, trapping wisps of it in the corners of his mouth. "I mean, think about it... You're what? ...20 lbs--of solid muscle--heavier than me? ...and what? ...5? ...6 inches taller? Dude, even now, you could easily throw me off ...but here's the thing! ...you're not! What's up with that??" Gradually, each time Jon's pubic bone slammed against Taylor's smooth, plump mounds, digging his big cock around in the hot, tight cunt, the `Big Stud on Campus' softly grunted--no longer in quite the pain he was earlier. In fact, the longer Jon fucked the hot running back, the more his big cock rubbed against the hard sex-nut deep inside Taylor's sweet hole, and his groans that changed to faint whimpers morphed to moans that grew deeper and louder. Taylor caught himself moaning, and though he couldn't have been more humiliated and ashamed, the hot stud couldn't stop himself either, pushing his legs further apart and arcing his butt higher.

Rubbing his nose in the soft, thick hair behind Taylor's ear, Jon purred, "One thing's for sure... you're a W-A-Y better fuck than any chick I've had!" Jon began pulling his beautiful, round butt further back, lengthening his strokes in-and-out of Taylor's newly formed cunt--deep-dicking the big jock. Taylor's amazing glutes jiggled, as Jon's pubic bone slammed into and ground against the full, hard ass beneath him. Pushing two fingers inside Taylor's open mouth, Jon rasped into the hot jock's ear, "Suck `em, bitch... Pretend they're my cock and suck `em... Gotta quiet you down somehow..." Taylor closed his lips around the blonde stud's fingers, as his long, wet tongue swirled around the digits. "I swear to god you want everyone down here fuckin' this ass..."

Jon's long, light blonde fell forward, piling against Taylor's darker blonde hair, as the younger stud picked up speed, panting and huskily whispering in the hot football player's ear. "Tell me... Have you always been sweet on me?? Is that why you've always been such an asshole to me... because I make your cock h-a-r-d?? Huh?? Did little, ole me make the big Tay-Tay hard??" As Jon's sweaty chest slid and slurped against Taylor's sweaty back, the blonde boy-god slowly licked down the football stud's long neck then back to his ear, mouthing it with his sloppy tongue. "That's such a shame... that you've been so shy, I mean. Just think of a-l-l the f-u-n we coulda been having...all this time, huh?? If you'd just played your cards better, we might've had a chance to get to know each other better..." Jon bounced against Taylor's hard, plump ass, stirring his big cock in the hot cunt, while he licked a broad path from big jock's ear down to the corner of his drooling, sucking mouth and back, feeling Taylor's muffled moans vibrating around his fingers.

Jon pulled his fingers from the hungry mouth and lifted himself off Taylor's broad, sweaty back, slowly pulling his hard cock from the hot, sucking hole. He lifted the confused jock's chest off the desk, and turning him around, the blonde boy was greeted by Taylor's hard, 8" cock, bouncing in the air. Jon smirked knowingly but said nothing, thinking, `This is the same dude who called me a faggot!'

His head thick with fog from the younger boy's powerful, seductive scent now filling the room, Taylor stood with his eyes glazed over, staring at Jon's awesome abs...and the big cock standing proudly in the air. He started to sink to his knees again, when Jon grabbed him under his arms, murmuring, "No, babe, I'm gonna show you where it's really at. Hop up on the desk and lay back. I'll grab your legs." Jon paused, maneuvering Taylor on the desk, then explained to the confused jock, "See... I wanna see your pretty face while I fill you full of my thick, white cum. Doesn't that sound cool, babe?? You wanna look me-e-e in the eyes, dontcha?? ...while you take another dude's cum inside that hot, sweet pussy of yours??"

Laying on his back on the desk, drool slid downward, over Taylor's cheek, behind his ear, and into his hair, as the football stud gazed in awe at Jon's body glistening with sweat. His eyes slowly followed a path from the Nordic beauty's muscular pecs downward, over the six-pack abs to the young stud's tapered, narrow waist. Holding the football player's long, heavy legs up in the air, Jon was a breathtaking sight--with wisps of his long, blonde hair still matted by sweat to his cheek and trapped in one corner of his mouth. Like never before in his life, Taylor had a full-throated hunger to be pumped full of this Nordic beauty's cum--so full it took over his body, rewriting his genetic code. If there was no more `Taylor' afterward, he'd be cool with that, he thought.

Leaning in, Jon patted Taylor's cheeks, trying to bring the jock around--to clear the glazed-over stare in his eyes. Pushing Taylor's long, muscular legs forward, Jon directed the football stud to hold them, while he lubed his hard, eight-inch cock. Pouring more lube on his fingers, the he pushed one of Taylor's legs closer to its owner's face, working his fingers in-and-out of the hot, spasming man-cunt, adding more lube but also taunting the young-Tom Brady lookalike--massaging the hard nut inside with his fingertips.

Lubing his hard, thick, eight-inch phallus, the hot blonde instructed Taylor to keep ahold of his legs and walked around the desk, stroking his hard in front of the handsome jock's face while rubbing his other hand across his abs until his fingertips landed on a nipple, flicking and toying with it. "Look at me," Jon purred, "You want this in you?" Taylor most certainly did, but he couldn't speak aloud the gay need he felt. Staring at the beautiful piece of meat, the running back simply nodded his head.

"Say it," Jon quietly insisted, "Tell me you want me to fuck you and cum inside your ass." Taylor imagined saying something like that to one of his football bros--say, Brad or Gage. They'd waste him, beating him to a pulp, then they'd probably spit or piss on him for good measure. Taylor looked at Jon with pleading eyes, not wanting to say the same words many girls had moaned at him--with about the same desire Taylor had for Jon. Spoken aloud by a man, the words were shameful and emasculating.

Jon shrugged, dropping his hands to his side. "That's cool. Lean up, so I can get my shirt from under you. I need to get home and work on a paper."

Confused, Taylor panicked, "What? No... no, wait! Where are you going?"

"I said I've got a paper I need to work on. You're obviously not into it, so I'm not gonna put you through anything else," Jon stated casually. "Now, lean-up, so I can get my shirt."

"No! Don't go..." Taylor searched for words to salvage this suddent turn-of-events.

"It's cool. And unlike you and your butt-buddy, I'm not gonna say anything to anyone about tonight, n-o-r am I gonna threaten to `out' you and make you a nervous wreck where you'll lose your girlfriend and 9 lbs and have your friendships turned upside down... No, I won't do any of the things you assholes did to me." Motioning again for Taylor to sit-up, Jon nonchalantly added, "My jeans are under you, too."

"Wait, dude! Don't l-e-a-v-e," Taylor groaned. "I w-a-n-t to...you know... do it."

"Do what?" Jon questioned, feigning confusion and casually rubbing his six-pack abs.

Frustrated, Taylor tried clarifying, "You know... I wanna keep going!"

"Oh-h-h!" Jon exclaimed, as though finally understanding the big jock's meaning. "You want me to fuck you! Then say so!" he smiled brightly. "Say, `I want you to f-u-c-k me, Jon, and c-u-m inside my ass!"

Taylor's face turned red in a mixture of anger and frustration. "Okay, f-i-n-e! I'll say it! ... Fuck me in the ass! Fuckin' fuck me for days, for all I care! Fill me full of cum! There! Is t-h-a-t good enough for you??"

Jon smirked, mumbling, "Well, it's a start anyway." Walking back to the glorious, upturned ass, he squirted another glob of lube over his cockhead and began pushing into the resistant, little flower.

Suddenly, outside in the hallway, they heard a burst of boisterous laughter followed by the door across the hall slamming shut. The voices and laughter continued but receded as the group of frat boys walked away, down the hall to the staircase leading upstairs. Due to the boiler room's thick walls and iron door, neither Jon nor Taylor could hear exactly what was being said or the identity of the frat bros. Whoever it was had been inside the room across the hall, which meant they'd missed hearing the group walk down the hall in the first place. A look of complete terror covered Taylor's face, and Jon used the distraction as an opportunity to drive his big cock deep inside the football player's hot, tight pussy--knocking the wind out of Taylor. "R-e-l-a-x," Jon purred reassuringly, "They'd obviously been in the dungeon across the hall, hazing someone, and we just didn't hear them come downstairs to begin with. They couldn't have heard us. Think, dude! We could barely make out their laughter, let alone their voices. You couldn't have picked a better place to rape me, Tay!" Jon chuckled. "No one knows were here! If they'd heard us, they'd have barged right in! You know that!"

Gripping the backs of his calves, Jon rolled the football hunk tighter in a ball, raising Taylor's round ass higher, where he ground his blonde pubes against the upturned cunt. "O-o-o-o-o..." the young stud sighed--his eyes closed, absorbing the exquisite sensations around his raw cock, "You d-e-f-i-n-i-t-e-l-y have the best pussy I've EVER fucked, big guy!! How's that make you feel--what was that you called me now?--oh yeah, `cunt-face'--that you been struttin' around this campus all these years with the world's finest pussy between your legs??" Jon chuckled, "A-l-l those babes throwing themselves at you... Fuck! They must've all been lesbians! Oh-h-h, NO one woulda suspected y-o-u! Would they?? I guess that's why you and van der Bitch felt safe strutting around calling everyone you didn't didn't like `faggots'. Ain't that right, queer-boy??" Jon's flexing legs showcased his amazing ass pumping in-and-out of Taylor's deflowered rosebud, as a whitish mixture of lube and precum glistened on his blonde pubes. "It didn't even matter to you and your butt-buddy if they were your f-r-a-t brothers, did it?? So much for all that bullshit about brotherhood, huh?"

Grunting in time with his anal assault, Taylor repeated his denial of anything sexual between he and Brad, "[Ugnh...] We're NOT [Ugnh...] butt-buddies! [Ohhh, y-e-a-h...] How many [Ugnh...] fuckin' times [O-o-o-o...] do I have to [Oh-h-h, god...] tell you??"

Jon sneered, replying, "'Til I believe you...bitch!" His long, blonde hair fell forward, covering his eyes and sticking to the sweat on his forehead and flush cheeks. Finding the magic spot inside the handsome football jock, Jon began long-dicking the tight, spasming cunt to the chorus of Taylor's long, breathless moaning--rotating his hard, round butt on nearly every downswing.

"Oh-h-h, fuck! Fuck! It's so-o-o good!!" Taylor moaned, "Oh, yeah! You're so g-o-o-d!!"

"Yeah?? You like that, girl??" Jon panted--sweat falling from his nose, hitting Taylor's face below. Letting go of the running back's legs, Jon grabbed the edges of the desk for support, power-fucking the nearly incoherent jock below.

Wrapping his long, muscular legs around the younger stud's lower back, Taylor moaned in response, "Oh-my-god, y-e-s! ...this is best ever!" Reaching up, he pulled the golden boy down on top of him--their hot, sweaty chests glued to each other, Jon's chin resting on Taylor's broad shoulder. With his arms locked around Jon's back, panting, the young-Tom Brady lookalike began spilling his guts into the soft hair over Jon's ear, "I-I'm fucked up. I'm fake. [Oh-h-h, god...] I'm sorry for what I've done. [Ugnh...] Dude, you're so beautiful. I remember the first time I saw you. [Ohhh, y-e-a-h...] Please give me a chance. I'll make it up to you."

Jon raised his head from Taylor's shoulder and covered the running back's mouth with his own, as they began feverishly kissing, hidden under the canopy of the younger stud's long, blonde hair. Their wet, aggressive tongues rolled and curled together, moaning in each other's mouth, as Jon rabbit-fucked the hot, squeezing hole below. A thick, frothy mixture of lube, cum, and cunt juice pushed around the big cock wildly fucking Taylor's new pussy, slipping out around its madly stretched lips and flowing like a whitish lava down across the running back's taint and onto the clothing below. As Jon's thrusts became stronger, more erratic, and less frequent--with the blonde stud whimpering inside Taylor's wet mouth--the lava flow around the thick cock grew thicker and whiter, as Jon dumped hot load after hot load of his precious seed inside the hot football jock.

The two frat bros continued kissing, with Jon's thick, eight-inch cock still wedged deep inside Taylor's hot...gripping...massaging tunnel--that is, until the young stallion's balls stirred, hardening his big cock again, wherein blonde stud bred his new mare yet a second time.

Exhausted and drenched in sweat, Jon climbed off the big jock, leaving Taylor on his back on top of the rusting desk, equally exhausted and drenched in sweat. Helping the running back lean up momentarily, Jon pulled his clothes from under him and began dressing. From between the football stud's long legs, now draped over the edge of the desk, globs of thick, white goo belched onto the desk. It pooled, growing larger, until the heavy goo finally slipped over desk's edge and down its side between Taylor's long legs. In its wake, the white gunk would dry and flake off, leaving its path a darker shade of gray against the background of dust.

Over the following years, a very small number of observant frat bros, going in-and-out of the boiler room on the odd occasion, would notice the stain going down the side of the desk. Of these few observant boys, most would laugh, imagining some Kappa had been gang-banged there or perhaps that some bro used the place for a little `five-on-one'. One or two, however, would blush--ashamed of their thoughts--imagining something altogether different having happened in this room of dust, cobwebs, and fuel oil--perhaps involving a pledge ...and their cocks would harden in their jeans, adding to their shame and embarrassment. Ten years later, the unused room would be included in a remodeling project. Workmen, lifting the heavy desk from the thick layer of dust on the floor to haul it out to the city dump, would also notice this darkened path down the side. One would make a crude joke about sorority sluts, while the other--the brother of one to whom we've already been introduced--would wink, grab his junk, and ask, "Who says it has to have been a cunt, dude? I've had more than a few of these frat boys bouncing up-and-down on my cock, moaning for more. Oh, sure! ...they walk out my trailer the same arrogant cocksuckers they were walking in, but a cunt's a cunt, right? What do I care? You ought to try it sometime, bro! Drop by my place Saturday night!" Of course, this offer was responded to with a flip of a finger and a resounding `fuck you'.

Zipping his coat against the subzero cold outside, Jon keyed his address into handsome running back's phone. "Dude, get up. It's almost 2:30. Use your towels and the showers across the hall in the dungeon to clean up. Anyway, I'm leaving. You've got my address now, too." The blonde jock lifted the iron door handle pulling the rusty door open--cringing to the sound of the screeching hinges. Turning to Taylor, he added half-whispering, "I'll leave the door open, so you don't have to make that sound again. I suppose someone c-o-u-l-d be up, getting something to eat in the kitchen. Don't wanna get someone's attention, you know? `kay, I'm outta here." With that, Jon walked quickly down the dark hall, up the stairs, and out of the house, unnoticed, into the subzero night.

* * * * * * * *

Pledge Logan Johansen had been late to the house...again. He'd stopped by Caleb's house, helping the 16-year-old `discover' himself further. Fed-up by these increasingly frequent episodes of tardiness, Logan's Big Brother, along with a couple of other PIKEs, took the hot, Viking stud down to `The Dungeon'--a horrifying room full of devices designed to instill conformity. To clarify, the room would be horrifying for anyone...except Logan, who found the large, windowless room in the basement amusing.

He'd been stripped, tied over a sawhorse, paddled with a board, and left for hours there in the pitch-black room...still tied to the sawhorse, naked. While alone down there, Logan heard what sounded like screams, though with all the noise reverberating from upstairs, he wasn't positive what he'd heard or from where it emanated. The screams were Taylor's, of course--issued the moment Jon took his sweet cherry. While strapped over the sawhorse for hours, Logan thought he'd heard other noises as well that he thought for sure came from outside the dungeon.

Around midnight, Logan's Big Brother and a couple of actives finally returned, although this time, quite drunk and rowdy. After spending an unusual amount of time fondling the young Viking stud's hard, round melons, they eventually untied him, throwing Logan his clothes and telling him his punishment was over ...for now, they threatened.

As they left him to get dressed, Logan tried asking his Big Brother if there was someone else they'd punished a while ago. "Goddamn, you're a nosey cunt!" he slurred, "I don't know! Why?" With the dungeon's door open, Logan noticed the iron door across the hall and asked what was behind it. Looking for any reason to yell at the pledge, Logan's Big Brother shouted, "You stay out of there and mind your own business for a change! It's the old boiler room! Get dressed and go to your room! I don't want to see your fuckin' face again tonight!" The others stood in the hall, laughing at Logan and amongst themselves until the pledge's Big Brother joined them, slamming the door behind himself. The group quickly retreated upstairs to a seemingly never-ending supply of beer, but at the top of the stairs, one of them flipped the light switch, leaving the basement and Logan once again in pitch blackness.

Logan dressed and started out the dungeon's door when he could have sworn he heard something from behind the boiler room door. He held his ear against the cold metal door, where he made out most of Taylor's angry outburst: "Okay, f-i-n-e! Fuck me in the ass! Fuckin' fuck me for days, for all I care! Fill me full of cum! There! Is that good enough for you??"

While he had no idea whose voice he'd heard, Logan's 12-inch cock swelled with excitement inside his jeans, as his mind raced to put the pieces together. The tall, broad-shouldered stud continued leaning against the door, listening, as he popped the buttons of his jeans open, letting the beautiful slab of Viking meat fall forward into his warm, welcoming palm. Maybe the boiler room was somewhere they took certain pledges to fuck, he wondered. That might explain the reason his Big Brother had yelled at him (besides just being an all-around asshole). Who the fuck was in there?? The hot, young pledge gathered saliva in his mouth, letting it fall downward onto his huge, exposed cock, where he used it as lube, slowly jacking his big hand up-and-down the warm meat, listening to the sweet music behind the door.

This is how Logan spent the better part of the next hour, but where others see risk, some--such as Logan--see opportunity. Not wanting to waste his thick, fertile seed on an old, cement floor, the handsome pledge--o-o-z-i-n-g with hot sexuality--decided to bide his time and returned to the dungeon, leaving its door cracked. He sat on the cement floor, staring into the black hall, waiting for an open door to reveal the room's faggots. The cement was cold and uncomfortable, though, so after few minutes, Logan made his way to a bench, where he laid down, waiting for the sound of the door across the hall. It had been a long day, however, and soon sleep enveloped the hot stud like a warm blanket.

Quite some time later--around two hours, in fact--Logan was enjoying a pleasant dream involving young Caleb's warm, tight ass when the jarring screech of metal-on-metal awoke him. Dense with sleep, it took Logan a moment to realize where he was, but as soon as he did, he was on his feet, walking quietly back toward the cracked door into which light from across the hall now filtered. Drawing nearer, Logan's ears pricked to the sound of a hushed voice--the owner of which he couldn't place. Why hadn't he stayed put on the floor?? Logan was pissed with himself, a-n-d he should've been! For by the time he got to the door, the owner of the voice was half-way down the dark hallway headed for the stairs.

Bundled for the subzero weather, Jon's distinctive long, blonde hair lay hidden beneath a thick, knit cap and trapped inside the collar of his down coat. The only clue Logan had was that the bro--if, in fact, he was a PIKE--was one who didn't live in the house...which meant it could've been one of about 40 bros. `FUCK!' he screamed in his head, `Goddamn! Shit!' But if experience taught Logan anything, it was generally the `top' who left first, which meant that a vulnerable `bottom' likely remained inside the boiler room, perhaps taking longer to straighten himself up.

Coming from a long line of alpha wolves, the strong, cocksure stud stepped from behind the door of the dungeon, walked silently across the hall, and peered inside the iron doorway. Logan couldn't believe his eyes! He couldn't believe his luck! Laying on the desk with his long, heavy arm over his eyes was thee one-and-only Taylor Harris! Taylor fucking Harris, with a puddle of white cum on the desktop between his legs! What the fuck! Who'd have guessed!

Now, having been fawned over and, indeed, the sex toy of his "brother's" girlfriends since he was five, Logan k-n-e-w he was hot, emanating self-confidence without being arrogant. Quietly, he stepped back across the hall to the dungeon, where he quickly stripped out of his clothes down to his Nikes, then walked back across the hallway and into the boiler room, where Taylor still laid with his arm over his eyes.

You'd have thought the running back would be happy, but, in fact, he lay depressed, wondering if it was possible to turn back the clock. He'd been fucked like a woman--twice--and being a faggot was not in the cards. What's worse, he'd really enjoyed it, adding to his humiliation and depression.

Lost in his thoughts, Taylor didn't hear the sound of the sneakers on the cement floor until Logan loomed above him in all his hot glory, smiling seductively down on him, jacking his big, juicy cock. To say a look of shock and terror flashed across the running back's face doesn't adequately express it fully. So quickly did his stomach drop, Taylor almost began dry heaving. A crippling blankness made it impossible for him to find words--his mouth wide open, unable to speak.

Logan licked his lips slowly--one hand stroking his magnificent cock, the other drawing circles around an areola. Whereas Jon looked like some sort of Swedish Adonis, this one, standing 6' 3" with ripped abs, a shock of dark auburn bangs hanging down in his eyes, and a thick, 12-inch cock standing out from a full, manly bush of dark auburn pubes--truly looked like one, hot, young Viking stud! However, sex was not the thing on Taylor's mind: fright and humiliation that yet another person knew his secret were his all-encompassing thoughts and feelings.

Taylor tried raising himself on his elbows but was pushed down on his back before his head was more than 6" off the desk. "Relax, s-t-u-d," Logan purred seductively, climbing on the desk, straddling the Big Stud on Campus. "Let's play house. What'd ya' say?"

With one long arm hanging off the desk and nowhere to put his hands--particularly on the side of the desk against the wall--Taylor numbly laid his hands on the big, meaty thighs straddling his chest. The scent of cock and cum filled his brain, as the hot stud above him began slapping his face with the giant cock. Taylor closed his mouth--still processing the fact this pledge new his secret.

Thick, white goo filled the eye of the huge cockhead, and Logan painted the football stud's lips with the glossy seed. Taylor's brain went quiet, as his vision focused solely on this amazing--and yes, beautiful--cock and the thick bush of dark auburn pubes from which it rose. "Don't be shy, now," Logan murmured, rubbing the oozing goo under Taylor's nose. "You fuckin' n-e-e-d this cock," he drawled seductively, painting wide swaths of the handsome Senior's cheeks white with the wet cum.

It was more than just a beautiful cock: it was work of art--the whole kid was a work of art, Taylor thought--unaware his hands were rubbing the hard, muscular thighs pinning him down. As the warm, intoxicating scent of Logan's sex filled the handsome running back's head, Taylor's mind went blank, except for one thing: cock. He needed this cock, and he parted his lips, opening his mouth for this Viking stud's magnificent cock.

The kid's soft, deep voice was calming--almost hypnotic--having the same warm, soothing effect as a perfectly-aged Kentucky bourbon. The goo now coating his tongue was even sweeter than Jon's, tripping the last remaining circuit in the running back's brain, as he reached around with his free hand pulling the dark auburn-haired boy-god closer by his firm, round mounds. "Yeah, s-u-c-k that cock, cocksucker..." Logan whispered, encouraging the handsome football player. His low, seductive voice hypnotized Taylor, making him hungrier, making him want to please this awesome stud. The voice urged him on, calling him names--names that would have angered the big jock elsewhere, but that, now, he wanted to be: his `bitch', his `whore', ...his "pretty, little faggot."

"You want this cock in your tight, little cunt??" Logan taunted. Taylor nodded, the big cock knocking on the entrance to his throat. "G-o-o-d faggot," Logan purred. "I'm gonna give you a-l-l the cock you n-e-e-d from now on, pretty girl... You wanna be Logan's `pretty girl', stud??" Now rubbing the young stud's hard, round mounds, Taylor moaned around the big cock, nodding his agreement. "When I get done with you tonight," Logan purred, "you're gonna need cum like you need water, bae." The fat cockhead pushed its way through the opening to Taylor's throat--its hot walls squeezing and massaging the spongy head. With his hands holding the top of the desk, Logan was full-on fucking the face of this young-Tom Brady lookalike. "That's it, bitch...S-U-C-K that cock!" Sooner than he could control it and much sooner than he'd have preferred, Logan felt the all-too-familiar rush of hot cum shooting down the length of his thick shaft. Taylor felt the molten volleys painting the inside of his throat ...and he felt worthy. "Swallow that cum, bitch! It'll make a man of you. Eat it... Eat a-l-l my cum, faggot" Logan ordered the big Senior. After the fourth volley, though, the Freshman pledge yanked his cock from the greedy mouth, painting Taylor's handsome face with his precious seed. When he finished, Logan used his big cockhead to smear the thick, white goo over the running back's cheeks, across his chin...and even across his forehead. One shot hit the big jock square in his right eye, so the young, dark auburn-haired master of sex carefully scooped it off and, ordering Taylor to open his mouth, fed it to the football player whose lips sealed around the long finger, hungrily sucking the sweet cream.

Over the years, Taylor had heard his fellow teammates talk about giving `bitches' facials and, of course, had seen it in porn, but never did the running back think he'd have been on the receiving end of--what he considered to be--such a gross, degrading act. Just then, he felt some of the more watery cum trickled backward along his distinctive jawline, following his neck part-way around before dropping to the desk beneath him. Vain in just about every way, Taylor couldn't imagine what his handsome, famous face must look like now. Those `bitches' getting facials in the porn he'd watched were usually disgusting enough, and coated in some dude's nasty, white cum, they looked even grosser than they had before. He felt ashamed...of everything he'd done that night, not just the facial. What had he done to himself?? How had he allowed to happen?? He was damaged goods now--ruined forever. Some things you just can't erase.

After he caught his breath, Logan climbed off the desk, telling Taylor, "Stay put." Logan strutted his tall, muscular frame out the door, bringing his clothes back from the dungeon and closing the heavy iron door as slowly and quietly as he could.

Watching Logan initially strut away, though, Taylor was awestruck with the young stud's hard, round mounds, as his cock began filling with blood. `What an ass!' he thought, unable to decide whose was better--Jon's or Logan's. Taylor wondered what his own ass looked like, which was followed with the hope it looked just as hot as Jon's or Logan's. Then, he caught himself: why had he even noticed their asses? Why did he care what his ass looked like? He was becoming such a fag already, Taylor thought, depressed.

Strutting back from the door, Logan grabbed the running back's long legs, hoisting them in the air and rolling Taylor into a ball. "Hold your legs, pretty girl. Your new man wants to see your pussy." Its tiny lips were puffy, and the act of rolling Taylor into a ball forced the freshly fucked rosebud to open its petals, oozing more of Jon's white honey out the pouty mouth.

"Who just fucked you, stud?" Logan asked. Taylor closed his eyes and shook his head. If Logan didn't already know, he sure wasn't going to `out' Jon--not Jon, to whom Taylor had already done so much harm.

"How long have you been taking cock?" Logan asked, trying to determine how big a cock-whore Taylor was. Under the white, crusty cum, Taylor's face burned with embarrassment. "It's okay... you can tell me. After all, we're bros...or at least we will be in about three months. I'm sure you're gonna make s-u-r-e of that. Right, babe? In fact, I wouldn't mind being an officer next year. You'll make sure that happens too, won't you?"

There it was: the threat. Logan's Big Brother, an uptight Accounting major and overall prick, wasn't especially fond of the laid-back pledge he'd been assigned. Having just swallowed the pledge's load... having just been given a facial by the pledge, the Vice President of PIKE had little choice but to ensure Logan made active, and, it should come as no surprise, then, that Taylor nodded his head--his eyes closed in resignation.

"Say it, pussy" Logan ordered.

"Yes, I'll make sure you're in," Taylor quietly answered.

"And the other??" Logan grilled.

"Yeah, I-I'll do my best," Taylor promised. Elections for next year's officers weren't until the first week of May, so he thought he might be able to help the kid out before then, though it'd take effort on Logan's part too. Taylor couldn't pull it off on his own.

"Good boy. So, how `bout the other question... How l-o-n-g have you been taking cock up the ass? ...since you were 12? Did your middle school coach take your cherry? ...a priest? ...the high school t-o-w-e-l boy??" Logan laughed, "I can totally see you gettin' fucked by some scrawny t-o-w-e-l boy!"

Where it came from, Taylor couldn't tell you, but he started sobbing, garbling-out, "Tonight."

"Oh my god. S-t-o-p with the fuckin' tears. I can't deal with that. Did you say `t-o-n-i-g-h-t'??" Logan asked, surprised. Tossing Taylor his t-shirt, Logan told the hot football player, "Wipe your face and stop the crying! It's just sex! Big fuckin' deal! You think I haven't taken the D? Guess again! Now, how l-o-n-g have you been getting boned??"

Gaining control over himself, Taylor wiped his face with Logan's t-shirt--almost as embarrassed by crying as by his being discovered. Red in the face and looking away, Taylor again answered, "Tonight was the first time."

`Well, now,' Logan thought to himself, `this sort-of makes sense--what with this emotional outburst just now.' "No shit??" Logan asked again, smiling. Taylor didn't respond, closing his eyes, as a warm, red flush again covered his neck and face. Logan chuckled--his cock hardening again. Not only did had he just stumbled upon thee Taylor Harris, but he'd also stumbled upon an `almost virgin' man-pussy.

"You gotta loosen-up, dude," Logan purred, licking his full, pink lips seductively. "It's only sex," he stated again.

Looking down again at the wet, tiny mouth full of some dude's white spooge, Logan shocked the Big Stud on Campus, dropping his face on the upturned ass and digging his long tongue inside the tight, little cunt.

"Oh my god!" Taylor moaned--never having had his ass reamed-out before. It not only felt fantastic, but it was also kind-of hot and sexy! Apparently, Logan didn't care whose cum he dug out of his ass and swallowed! `Of course, it's Jon's,' Taylor thought, `so Logan couldn't get any better. Still, he has no clue whose fuckin' jizz he's eating!'

`Wow! and Fuck!' Logan thought as he moaned into the newly-minted cunt, `This is like eating sugar! I gotta find out whose cum this is!' With his lips sealed around the pussy, Logan sucked as much of the sweet jizz out, taking an unknown dude's seed inside him. Did the sweet goo belong to another PIKE? Was it another football player's? Maybe it was that belonging some nerd from one of Taylor's classes. Logan didn't give a fuck! Using his fingers, he stretched the tiny hole as best he could, moaning into the cunt and tongue-fucking the hell out of it.

Logan wasn't the only one moaning. The big football jock moaned and whimpered, thrashing his head back-and-forth on the desk. `Holy fuck! This is the absolute BEST!!' Taylor's brain told him. `This is the shit!! This is absolutely the shit!'

"You like this, girl?" Logan asked between the muscular thighs. "You like me eating your sweet cunt out??"

"Oh, fuck... don't stop... don't stop," Taylor panted breathlessly.

After eating the star football player's cunt a while longer, Logan lubed his thick, 12-inch cock and pulled Taylor's ass to the edge of the desk. "Well, babe," the young Viking stud purred, "if you liked that, you're gonna fuckin' l-o-v-e this! ...once you get used to it, that is. After I finish with you tonight, girl, you're gonna wanna m-a-r-r-y me," Logan winked at a dazed, still-panting Taylor. "Believe me, babe... they a-l-l do!" He picked his t-shirt off the floor where Taylor dropped it earlier and laid it on the running back's chest. "Roll part of that up like a cigar and bite down on it. I mean it. You scream, and we're both done here. I'll be blackballed, and word will spread like wildfire that you prefer cock over cunt. That shit will follow you around the rest of your life. Got it?"

Taylor looked worriedly at the big, Viking cock and began to backpedal. "Maybe it's not such a good idea, huh?"

Logan grabbed Taylor's hand, and holding it on his big, left pec, he ordered the star football jock to `squeeze it'. "Yeah, really f-e-e-l that muscle..." Logan purred. He looked sultry down at Taylor, slowly dragging his hand downward, over his impressive six-pack--downward, following his treasure trail, until Taylor's fingers were deep inside the young stud's thick, dark auburn bush. Slowly licking his lips, Logan dared the running back, "Tell me you don't want me... Tell me you don't want me deep inside you, pumping you full of my babies... Tell me."

Taylor's breath came ragged. His eyes were glued to the fucking awesome body a-n-d Logan's strong, handsome face. Of course, Taylor had noticed the pledge m-a-n-y times before and thought he was fucking hot, ... but he was a Freshman a-n-d on the university's wrestling team, which was notoriously homophobic. Now, this hot stud--who obviously wasn't simply straight, as Taylor had assumed--was daring him to back down ...daring Taylor to deny himself what they both knew he needed. Standing so near him again, Logan's scent wafted into Taylor's brain, ...and he smelled so fucking good, too. So, while Taylor's mouth hung open filling with saliva, no words came out.

Logan quietly let go of Taylor's hand and walked to the side of the desk, lifting the jock's long, heavy legs again and rolling them back to where Taylor could hold them himself. "Roll that shirt and bite down on it, then hold your legs again," Logan instructed. As Taylor did so, Logan spoke slowly and seductively, holding Taylor's gaze, "Know what my big brother always told me? ... Only r-e-a-l men take cock. Only r-e-a-l men have the strength and tenacity to persevere through hardship and pain. Think `marine'. You think those jarheads don't fuck each other up the ass? ...especially alone in some shithole place, like Iraq? Guess again. And yeah, my bro fucked me. Think I'm not a man?"

Taylor was stunned, staring at the muscular body of the 6' 3" wrestler. He shook his head `no'--his mouth full of t-shirt.

"So show me you're a m-a-n," Logan dared the star football jock ...the young-Tom Brady lookalike.

This was Logan's directive before pushing his 12-inch cock all the way down into Taylor's hot cunt. Oh-h-h, Taylor screamed, though he kept his teeth locked on the t-shirt. A-n-d he sobbed--a flood of salty tears racing backwards over his temples and into his dirty blonde hair. But by-god, he took that fuckin' cock (though, really, he'd have given his left nut to be a-n-y-where but on that desk).

Logan leaned forward, squeezing Taylor's hard pecs, while he kept still letting his newest `girl' get used to the thing Logan was certain the big jock would come to love. His dark auburn pubes were pressed flat against Taylor's smooth, round ass, whose ring was stretched impossibly wide around Logan's thick cock.

Feeling the pledge's soft, wiry pubes against his ass, Taylor continued sobbing in both fright and humiliation. Sucking the fuck-stick earlier, he'd, of course, taken note of the girth of young stud's cock at its base, and now--without a doubt--Taylor knew he had the whole, goddamn thing inside him. He'd thought it was bad earlier, when Jon took his cherry! N-o-w, Taylor was convinced he'd be going to the hospital for stitches after this! Still, though, he kept his teeth clamped around the t-shirt.

Patiently, Logan waited for his `girl' to calm down a bit before pulling his big schlong back until just its fat head remained in the hot, squeezing pussy. Pouring more lube along his shaft, the tall, broad-shouldered Freshman slowly pushed his talented cock back inside Taylor's new pussy. The crying resumed but not nearly intense as earlier, and Logan slowly fucked the hot, tight tube, clamping-then-releasing-then-clamping-the-releasing...around his big cock. It felt exquisite--this spasming pussy. For sure, Taylor wasn't bullshitting him when he told Logan tonight was his first night for butt sex.

This thought, of course, reminded Logan of his first question: W-H-O was the dude who'd plucked this prize cherry?? About all Logan could determine was is was someone shorter than he--about 6" shorter, he guessed--and that the dude wore a navy, down coat and a purple, knit cap with a gold and white pom pom. The dude was a Vikings fan! He h-a-d to be! Maybe even be someone from Minnesota! [Taylor wasn't crying anymore--only grunting with each inward fuck. Logan felt his cock now rubbing across the running back's nut. Things were looking up on that end.] There was no way Taylor would let just anyone take his cherry--not with as much to lose as the popular jock. It couldn't be a teammate either, as there were any players as short as 5' 9" on the team--none that Logan could recall anyway. He'd have to start getting to the weekly frat dinners earlier and pay attention to those arriving from outside the house. That's it! Logan would sign-up for cloakroom duty! T-h-e-n he'd find out who (if anyone) wears a knit cap like that!

"It's not hurting as much now, is it, stud?" Logan asked slyly, a glint in his eyes. Taylor hesitantly shook his head--afraid to commit to an answer just yet. Logan pulled his cock out, pouring more lube on it then rolled the big jock up, squirting more lube inside his now winking hole. Pushing Taylor forward, the stud-pledge climbed on the desk and sank his huge tool deep inside the star jock--rubbing directly across his hard, hidden nut.

Taylor's eyes went nearly as wide as his gaping mouth, gasping for breath. No words came out, but noticeably, he wasn't crying in pain this time. `There it is again', the running back thought, clueless about his love-nut. All Taylor knew was that something Logan was doing caused a delirious feeling in his brain and his body to go limp. In fact, as the young stud began fucking in earnest on top of the desk, Taylor went so limp as to let go of his legs; it felt so nice, so natural wrapping them around the wrestler's smooth waist--like a girl would. It didn't help that Logan frequently ground his pubic bone against Taylor's smooth, upturned mounds, emasculating the older jock further. In letting go of his legs, Taylor inadvertently provided the ideal position for Logan to hit his nut perfectly, and this was a game-changer. His grunts turned to low, deep-chested moans--short and low at the beginning, longer and louder as the fuck continued.

This kid is so-o-o fuckin' hot, Taylor thought. Both Jon and Logan were exceptionally hot but in different ways. Physically, Logan was bigger than Jon, but he also had a darker persona about him--something dangerous. Jon, on the other hand, was fair and almost angelic in appearance--with his long, blonde hair and blue eyes--having an honest, unassuming personality. Maybe it was Logan's dark brown eyes, glinting with secrets, or his long, dark auburn bangs, bouncing with each fuck, but it was more that than. The kid's body oozed with hot sexuality, and he gave off a certain confidence without the arrogance--a true leader. Just look how he'd walked in and took control after Jon left. Whatever it was, Logan had definitely taken control of Taylor--the star football jock had become putty under this kid, his sweaty body now moving in unison with Logan's. None of this nor the fact Taylor was already worshipping Logan's body, exploring the wrestler's well-defined pecs with his hands, had sunk-in yet, but it would soon.

As the big cock rubbed back-and-forth across the hard place inside him, Taylor's moans lengthened and deepened, and when Logan hit the nut just right, the big jock whimpered--his eyes rolling in his head. Taylor tried pulling the hot pledge down, hungry to taste his mouth, but the young stud's body--hot and slippery with sweat--helped Logan resist the action, wanting to establish his dominance over the older jock.

"Y-e-a-h! You are l-o-v-i-n' this shit, aren't ya'??" Logan sneered. "Look at you... wantin' to kiss me... rubbin' your hands over my body... moanin' like a cheap whore... Answer me," Logan pressured.

"Yeah..." Taylor panted breathlessly, sweat running off his face, "Yeah..."

"Like I said, it takes a m-a-n to take cock," Logan jeered, "but it takes one with an inner WOMAN to fuckin' love it like you. Think about it... Here you are--a Senior... one of the most popular, recognizable dudes on campus, with pussy comin' at you from every fuckin' direction... Vice fucking President of PIKE--thee most popular frat on campus... not to mention having one of the most BEAUTIFUL babes I've ever seen as his girlfriend... moaning on the end of my cock like the real BITCH he is!!! Look at you! ...with your legs wrapped around my waist, trying to pull me down to kiss me! And here I am... I'm just a lowly Freshman... a PLEDGE, no less... a pledge fuckin' an active--four years older than him! ...turning him into the real CUNT he is! Isn't that right, FAGGOT??"

Panting, his eyes r-o-l-l-i-n-g in his head--unable to control his moaning--Taylor recognized himself as Beth...when they first met. She used to carry-on like this underneath him. And here he was, arching his back, letting Logan really deep-dick him. `What a fuckin' COCK he has!' Taylor thought. The nut inside his ass had somehow turned it into a cunt! `Yeah, that's what it is, alright', Taylor thought, `I've got a fuckin' C-U-N-T between my legs... taking his monster COCK--just like a g-i-r-l!' He nodded, rubbing and squeezing Logan's pecs above him.

"You've got a CUNT between your legs, don't you??" Logan demanded. "Fuckin' ANSWER me when I ask you something! Tell me what's between your fuckin' legs, bitch!"

"A cunt," Taylor moaned in resignation, "a fuckin' cunt..."

"T-h-a-t's r-i-g-h-t, babe... a cunt," Logan sneered. "You'd fuckin' do a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g for me, wouldn't you, b-i-t-c-h??"

"Yeah," Taylor panted, "fuckin' anything... just stay with me..."

Logan chuckled, "What do you mean?? ...'stay with me'? You want me to move in with you? ...let all the bros know you're big FAGGOT?"

"No," Taylor hemmed-and-hawed, "like, be together..."

"Oh-h-h! You wanna m-a-r-r-y me!!" Logan laughed. Taylor closed his eyes, embarrassed. Logan continued, "You're a B-I-G faggot, aren't ya?? Tell me, have you been faggin'-out on dudes for years?? Have you been usin' Beth cover??" When Taylor ignored the question, trying to pull the young stud again down to kiss, Logan slapped the big jock on the face, growling, "When I ask you a fucking question, you goddamn answer me, bitch! Have you been faggin'-out on your t-e-a-m-mates all these years, wishin' they'd g-a-n-g-bang you in the locker room?? Are you a big closet-FAG??" Taylor's eyes welled with tears--not because of the words so much but, rather, the slap. "Don't you start crying on me, G-I-R-L!"

"Maybe... I don't know," Taylor hedged. "Maybe I have been having...certain feelings...toward guys, you know? Can't we talk about this later?" he pled.

"Later, huh?" Logan stated flatly, trying to break away from the legs locked around his waist. "I want answers now, so if you don't wanna talk, I don't wanna fuck."

"No! No!" Logan shouted. "Okay, maybe I have been usin' Beth... BUT I'LL BREAK UP WITH HER, I PROMISE! Can't we just try to, like, see each other?? ...see how it goes?"

"You are a faggot," Logan stated simply.

"Yeah, okay, maybe I am a faggot! So what?? We don't have to date, if you don't want to, but..." Logan paused a few seconds, "just fuck me on the quiet, okay?? This is the best sex I've ever had!" Taylor searched Logan's shiny dark eyes.

Logan laid down on his forearms on top of the football stud, grinding his huge cock around in the wet cunt, eliciting moans from the older jock. "Yeah, I'll be your m-a-n... and you'll be the faggot. A-n-d you'll break up with Bethy, b-u-t! not before I fuck her while you watch ...while I fill her full of my babies. Sound good, babe?"

"W-h-a-t??" Taylor asked, incredulous. "You wanna date her too??"

"N-a-w, I don't wanna `date' her. I wanna fuck her...once, so she knows what a r-e-a-l man feels like ... and so you'll know your place with me, understand?" Logan clarified. "You've got a single room, so you'll invite me and that `wasted primo-pussy' there at the same time. Then you'll watch and see how it's done. Maybe I'll let you suck my cock while I'm eating her out, huh?" Logan's thrusting came fast and furious. "Then you'll ditch her! She won't say anything about it, because to say she'd dated a fag for four years--while he'd done god-knows how many men, true or not--wouldn't exactly say much for her, now would it?" Logan's breath was hot and moist in Taylor's ear, while both the running back's hands were wound in the pledge's thick, dark auburn hair--their chests glued together with sweat. How Taylor longed for Logan's mouth. "Deal?"

"Yeah... yeah..." Taylor panted, "A-n-y-thing..."

"What did I tell you?" reminded Logan, "I told you you'd wanna marry me when this night was over, didn't I?"

"Fuck, y-e-a-h," Taylor moaned. Then Logan gave his new girl what she'd wanted for the past 15 minutes, covering her wet mouth with his, diving his long tongue inside to mate with Taylor's ...to the older jock's whimpering.

With their bodies locked together in fevered heat and Logan's hard, round butt pounding Taylor's new pussy, the football star's eyes rolled in his head, as he felt the familiar surge of cum shoot upward from his balls, through his cock, splattering fruitlessly against their pressed, sweaty abs. Logan yanked Taylor's dirty blonde hair, gaining his attention, and with their noses pressed together, he gruffly informed the older jock, "Only a faggot... Only a natural bottom cums, while getting fucked. You understand? You'll remember this moment the rest of your life, no matter how hard you try to run from it."

Shooting his final ropes of cum--feeling it run down either side of his stomach--Taylor answered `yes'--unable to nod his head for the painful hold Logan had on his hair. A few short moments later, the star football player felt his bowels fill with Logan's hot lava, as the younger boy's tongue filled Taylor's ravenous, wet mouth. Why Taylor felt as he did, he didn't know, nor did he care. Logan was on top of him now, making love, and that's all he desired in the moment--his big hands rubbing the young Viking stud's back. An unfortunate truth is that many females...and many fags...fall for the wilder, more dangerous types--especially those possessing big cocks and knowledge of the art of fucking. Of the two--Jon and Logan--who do you think fit this bill?

Their sloppy lovemaking continued several minutes in virtual silence. Then, showing what a stud he was, Logan's 12-inch, Viking cock hardened like a brick once again. Putting Taylor on his knees and elbows on the desk, Logan taught the older jock what a true `bitch' he was, fucking him like a dog, and showing Taylor what a slave to butt sex he was now ... and who owned his title.

When the night was finally over for the sore, exhausted running back, he'd made additional, shocking promises to his young master--not because Logan blackmailed Taylor but, rather, because the football jock wanted to please his new...friend.

Using the showers in the dungeon, it was 4:40 a.m. before a freshly showered, quite exhausted Taylor limped quietly to his bed, crawling under the covers with his younger brother, there visiting the campus. If he'd hoped his brother was sleeping, Taylor was sadly mistaken.

"Why the fuck are you limping so badly, bro??" Tanner Harris exclaimed. Laying on his back trying to get back to sleep, the 17-year-old had woken just a few minutes prior to Taylor's return, having to go down the hall to take a piss. "And where've you been?? You said you were going to spend time with me while I was here, and tonight's my last night here! I texted you, like, three times, bro! Why didn't you answer??" Pivoting to Taylor's obvious limp, Tanner asked incredulously, "Have you been in a fight??"

"Oh, fuck m-a-n, stop with the questions! I'm fuckin' s-o-r-e and exhausted. Can't we talk about this in the morning?" Taylor pled. "And don't tell Mom or Dad about this, k?"

"What-ever," Tanner grumbled, as his big bro pulled the sheet back, flopping down on his stomach. Tanner had a remarkable resemblance to Taylor--right down to the young-Tom Brady face, though Tanner's eyes were a deeper blue. Just as talented an athlete, the 17-year-old was his high school quarterback and baseball pitcher. The younger version was a couple inches shorter than Taylor, standing an even 6', but Tanner was hopeful he'd have another growing spurt yet. His body was just as built as his big brother, though he was slightly slenderer. Unlike Taylor, however, Tanner was not just a pussy magnet: he was a pussy stud, earning him the nickname, the Cocksman of Calhoun Academy, the exclusive, all-boys school he attended. In fact, their wealthy parents had already paid for the abortions for two `townies'--local girls, who were cheerleaders at a public high school there.

"Hey, you want a massage, bro?!" Tanner offered enthusiastically. "I know how to work those muscles!" Half-asleep already and thinking Tanner would simply lean over to massage his shoulders, Taylor grumbled `fine' into his pillow. Instead, however, Tanner climbed on top of his bro, straddling his very sore butt.

"OW!" Taylor shouted in pain.

"W-h-a-t, bro?" Tanner asked, genuinely concerned. "Are you okay??"

"I fell on my ass outside tonight. That's why I'm limping," Taylor lied.

"Oh, dude, I'm sorry! I'll scoot back a little," offered Tanner.

"Let's just forget about it, okay?" Taylor grumbled.

"N-a-w, just clear your mind and let me do the work. You'll sleep so-o-o much better," Tanner insisted. Tanner leaned forward and began massaging Taylor's broad shoulders, and soon, the older brother was out like a light, snoring softly. Both boys happened to have worn tighty-whites to bed, and leaning forward as he was, Tanner's nine-inch cock lay pressed against the bottom his big bro's amazing, round butt. Sure, Tanner, had noticed his bro's awesome booty before but only in passing.

Meaty butts ran among the men of the Harris family. Their mom frequently embarrassed her sons, grabbing or slapping their dad's ass then winking and saying it gave her something to hold on to. Tanner, too, had developed a nice, hard, round ass...or so girls often remarked. Why, just tonight, when he'd gone to Brad's room, looking for Taylor, even the NFL-bound quarterback--strange as it was--commented that Tanner had his big brother's ass, offering him a glass of whiskey. Staring down in the dark at the large, white briefs-covered ass beneath him, though, Tanner decided that his brother was definitely the jackpot winner of butts in the family.

On the pretext of seeing the extent of bruising on Taylor's ass, Tanner slipped his fingers under the waistband and pulled down the shorts. Light from under the door provided just enough illumination for the boy to see Taylor's large, smooth globes. "H-o-l-y FUCK', Tanner whispered, awestruck at the highly erotic beauty of his big brother's amazing butt. No dude's ass had ever caused the teen's cock to harden...until tonight...and Tanner guessed it was due to his not having any pussy for four, whole days now. For falling on his ass, though, Tanner couldn't see any bruising at all on Taylor's smooth, white globes. The teen stud reached down, gingerly caressing the magnificent glutes, telling himself he was trying to determine where the fall had been. When Taylor remained deep in the heavy world of sleep, Tanner's caresses grew bolder, rubbing the deceptively hard mounds.

Soon, propping himself over his brother in a sort-of push-up position, the teen `cocksman' was bolding pushing his meat against Taylor's amazing ass. Despite his briefs, it still felt awesome, feeling he finally had one over on this brother, for a change. It was in very short order, however, that his impressive, nine-inch cock hardened, pushing over the band of his briefs. Brave on the football field a-n-d in bed, Tanner rested back on his heals and hooked the briefs under his big balls, letting his big, hard cock lay directly on his brother's sweet divide below, pushing it up-and-down between the tight glutes. Tanner was momentarily startled hearing his brother murmur what sounded like `yeah', accompanied by a cross between a moan and a whimper. Frozen, the boy waited a couple of minutes until Taylor began snoring again--genuinely sound asleep the whole time, dreaming of the hot, young pledge down the hall. Sitting back on his heals, Tanner grabbed his nine-inch meat and began beating the log furiously, with little thought as to the aftereffects. Gasping, the teen shot volley-after-volley of his thick, white, baby-making cum on the smooth, hard globes...and inside his big brother's alluring valley.

Still resting on his heals, panting heavily, Tanner wanted to laugh at his handiwork, but, of course, he knew better. The young stud watched as globs of his thick, white seed slowly slid both ways over the smooth globes--part running down across Taylor's hips and part falling down inside his brother's tempting crack. Tanner chubbed again, imagining his fertile cum seeping inside his brother's ass then climbing, just as it had with the babes, up Taylor's bowels in search of eggs. Eggs or not, Tanner sneered, if any of his seed slipped inside his arrogant brother, that would definitely make Taylor his bitch, he thought.

Of course, because he didn't pull his brother's hot mounds apart, Tanner failed to see that Taylor's `flower' was, indeed, open, still contracting from the four fucks it had taken that night. So, unbeknownst to either brother, part of Tanner's thick, white seed was being sucked inside the big jock--his cuntlips forming a vacuum as they spasmed open-and-shut.

`N-o-w what am I going to do', Tanner wondered, staring at the mess he'd created. He couldn't simply pull his brother's briefs up, as his cum would dry, making the cloth stick to Taylor's ass ...not to mention it staining his briefs. Then an outrageous idea came to him--an idea that, while it would anger Taylor, it wouldn't piss him off too much. In fact, they'd probably laugh about--between themselves, of course--while possibly making Taylor less arrogant and aloof to his little brother.

Reaching down, the teen stud pulled the briefs up, over Taylor's big booty, letting the briefs saturate thick, sticky goo. Then, leaving his briefs down, Tanner laid down next to his big brother, gently pulling the sleeping jock onto his side. Wrapping his muscular throwing arm around Taylor, Tanner spooned in behind his big brother, drifting asleep with his nose in Taylor's soft hair.

In the morning, Tanner scoffed and protested then acted embarrassed and ashamed, conceding he must have spooned against his bro's amazing, "inviting" ass, dreaming Taylor was one of the many babes he'd boned, and... well... c-a-m-e in his sleep. (Taylor knew about the abortions, after all, so he knew full-well Tanner's rep as a Casanova.) In addition to referring to Taylor's ass as "inviting," Tanner pointedly added for good measure, "It's not my fault you were pushing your big, girly ass back against my cock! F-u-c-k, you made me dream you were some bitch in-heat!" Standing over Tanner--still lying in bed--Taylor's face burned red with embarrassment, wondering if he h-a-d pushed his ass against his little brother's obviously not-so-little cock. Hard with morning wood, Taylor watched the big cock jerk with excitement, feeling jealous that Tanner was bigger where it really counted. Tanner laughed awkwardly, noticing his big bro staring his meat. "I'm just givin' you a hard time, bro! Let's just forget about it, okay? No harm, no foul." For whatever reason, Tanner had let him off the hook, and Taylor was relieved.

End -- Chapter 8