Date: Mon, 30 May 2011 23:53:02 -0400 From: M W Subject: The Lacrosse God Across the Hall: PART THREE *** LACROSSE STUD: PART 3 The Lacrosse God Across the Hall Below is the continued story based on some true events that happened to me in college, though its been heavily fictionalized for dramatic purposes, and of course names have been changed. This is meant as entertainment for adult consenting readers and not meant for anyone who is offended by aggressive and dirty gay sex. I welcome all suggestions and comments: Striker88888@gmail.com * HIGH SCHOOL GOD Two days ago I was about to be outted as a homo by two of my fraternity bros, now here I am--slamming away at some faggot's throat while those same two buddies are attempting to double stuff his hole from the other side. Suddenly it occurs to me, life is wicked sweet sometimes. I wouldn't have imagined I'd end up here but I guess life throws you some pretty good opportunities once in a while, and you either let them pass you by or you seize and fuck the shit out of them. But maybe I am getting ahead of myself. Here's my story... Name's Luke and I'm from Massachusetts -- about an hour from Boston where my family has been since god knows when--the Mayflower or some shit. I play lacrosse and not to toot my own horn or anything but I'm pretty fucking good. I was ranked number three in Massachusetts among high school players, and college for me was essentially going to be a free ride if I just played lax and didn't fuck up too bad. Dad was proud, I guess, though he wasn't exactly the type to tell you so much. More of the pop you open a beer and say nothing kind of a guy, which works out fine for me, since I ended up pretty much that way as well. With all the sports shit and my generally being awesome, it was never hard for me to bag chicks. Ever since Laurie Simon gave me a handjob at age twelve on the roof of our middle school, the floodgates have pretty much been open in terms of getting pussy. That's just how it always has been. I'm nailed just about every type of pussy there is, and it never gets old. Always thought if there's one thing I'm meant to be doing besides playing lacrosse it was fucking- although fucking doesn't get you into college, especially the expensive liberal arts college in Boston that was paying me to score (though on the field, in this case). But despite the endless stream of cheerleaders dying for a piece of me, I learned long ago there was no chance women were gonna be enough for me. In a way they are too sensitive, too fragile, too emotional to fully take what I had to offer. Always hated the pretense and shit that goes along with sex, and though I had to do little in the way of, like, wooing chicks (my dick was legendary, bro) I loathed having to "play nice". To put it bluntly- I can't fucking stand cuddling, so as soon as I pop my load and I'm done with a bitch, she needs to go. Don't do sleepovers, that's for sure. *** SCOTT In time, I found an outlet for the aggression I couldn't get out on the field or with the woman (not) sleeping in my bed. Or, more precisely, it found me. Now I know this is a little sick in the head or whatever but wanna get the whole truth out for once--so hear me out. My whole journey with this kindda shit really began when I was a sophomore in high school, barely sixteen, and my little brother Scott was thirteen and in middle school. Scott used to basically worship me, as even as an underclassman I was starting center on the team, and pretty much had worked out the social angles of our private school, the guy that always got invited to parties. Scott is a good kid generally but I guess a little soft (he didn't inherit our fathers stoicism, like I did), so I guess I shouldn't have been that surprised when everything that went down went down. Scott and I used to play basketball some evenings after I got back home from lacrosse and he got home from baseball- he was starting JV catcher in middle school as a 7th grader, not bad but not exactly with a pro-ball career in his future. To be honest I'm pretty sure I can hit a baseball better than him and that's not even my sport. Basketball was the one sport Scott could compete with me at all, so we had some fun sweaty games playing one-on-one or around-the-world or HORSE on our father's old hoop. For fun, Scott would sometimes offer me bets when he thought he could win, and me being the competitive douche I am, would usually take them. So this one thursday night were playing HORSE and my mind is elsewhere so I'm missing a ton of baskets, and he has be down to H.O.R.S: if I miss one more shot he gets in, game's over and he has won. Predictably Scott thinks it's a good time to wager. "Winner pays loser 100 bucks" "Yeah right, asshole. You don't even have 100 bucks, unless you sold some of your fucking baseball cards and didn't tell dad" "Ok. When I win you pay me a hundred spot.." "And if I win?" I asked "Well I dunno, Ill blow you- you happy?" I laughed, "Game on kiddo" and immediately sunk a basket. Then another. Then another. Scott watched in horror as I played flawlessly, finally making a three point shot at the back of the key that I knew he couldn't match. As an athlete, I performed extremely well under pressure. "BOO-YEA motherfucka. Count it!" Scott nervously dribbled and lined up his shot, but he had no chance, ball went far wide of the rim and bounced off the edge of the backboard. I snickered, the winner. Scott was silent, maybe a bit impressed I'd clawed my way back to a win. Eventually he looked at me and said, deadpan "I guess you'll be wanting that blowjob now" I laughed and threw the ball hard at his chest: "come on I think dad made lasagna" *** CONTRA Later that night I was out with some friends, smoking pot along the reservoir on the outskirts of the suburb our high school was in. Must have had a few beers as well because I remember stumbling out of my buddy Tim's car and fumbling for my keys, almost collapsing on our lawn. Finally I got into the house and threw my lacrosse bag on the couch, almost hitting Scott who was up late playing Nintendo. Dad was long since asleep. "Scott it's wicked late...like three AM...go to fuckn sleep idiot" I slurred Scott gave me a sideways look and snickered, I guess in some ways the sarcastic bastard was just like me. "You drunk Lucas?" "Yeah. Dad got any beer?". I rummaged through the mini fridge until I pulled out an Amstel light. "Ugh hate Amstel". I popped it open anyway and started drinking it. Collapsing next to Scott on the couch, I watched him lose a few lives in my saved game of Contra before falling asleep, beer in hand, sitting up on the couch with my head tossed back behind me hanging over the cushion. I was having this awesome dream about titty fucking Mrs. Kann, this huge-breasted teacher and probably the only decent-looking instructor at our school. My dick felt warm and wet and close to coming. In my mind I was pushing those huge orbs together and spitting on my dick, sliding it between them over and over, working up great friction as she begged for my cum all over her cute fucking mouth. Eventually I realized I was awake and on our couch, and it had all been a dream. But my dick was still feeling awesome-what gives? Sure enough I looked down to see my little brother opened wide and head bobbing on my dick, like some deep throating porn star. I grabbed his hair intending to rip him off my dick and beat his little gay ass, but something about grabbing his skull and controlling the speed at which he blew me felt amazing. And it only encouraged him, he gobbled down every millimeter of my dick without gagging, slamming his own face downwards over and over again so his nose pressed hard into my pubes. I eased up on his hair and just started working his face. Felt too good to stop him. Eventually I knew I was close to cumming and couldn't stop him if I tried. I couldn't believe I was about to jizz in my little brother's mouth but that's exactly what happened- gobs and gobs of steaming hot cum, probably shot so far down his throat they were directly deposited into his stomach. As soon as I came I threw him off of me, confused and a little sickened. Scott just smiled, one of my red pubes lodged between his front teeth. "I figured I owed you" he said, bravely. After a minute of silence he added "don't tell dad" before hopping off the couch and heading up to his room. "Jesus christ" I said outloud, to no one. I knew it was wrong and gay and shit, but I couldn't deny one simple fact: it was the best blowjob I'd ever gotten in my life, by far. *** JOHN My brother avoided me for the next week or so but eventually things returned to pretty much normal--we didn't talk about that night and we stopped playing basketball when it was just the two of us. No harm, no foul. The only other difference between us after that night is harder to explain. I always bossed around Scott like any older brother should, and I definitely gave him a hard time or whatever, but now when I did it, every since he blew me, it felt somehow different. Somehow erotic. Like, now it turned me on a bit to give him the business, make him bring me sandwiches, tease him and his friends, yell at him if he used my stuff, and other shit like that. Everything he did or said, somehow the image of him throating my dick was crystal clear in my mind. I knew I owned him--and the thought made my dick hard. I realized then that I loved power it gave me--which is not so far fetched given the way my dad is and my general demeanor in other aspects of my life. So I realized maybe there was another outlet for my excessive sexual energy than boning every other chick that catches my eye, though I would do that too- and it would be pretty damn sweet. As it happens though, Scott and I never reprised our little encounter and I went for over a year without another blowjob like that. I had long since put that night out of my mind when I saw John Helms spying on my junk in the locker room shower after lacrosse practice one day. I was a senior, captain of the team and homecoming king, sitting on top of the world in my final 8 months before college. The lacrosse team was good this year, a strong squad but we just had lost a game to one of our chief rivals from another prep school up in Vermont. The bastards schooled us in some fundamentals, and coach was pissed off. I was pissed too, as the captain, and also took loses incredibly personally. Even though our coach worked us out hard, pushing us to the limit with drills and laps, I decided to tack on another workout after coach released the team. I did about 40 minutes of sprints before finally hitting the showers, sure the team would be filtered out by then. So I was surprised to find John Helms soaping up in the shower, in an otherwise empty locker room. John played defense and was pretty goodi- pretty reliable to be where he should be on th field and play aggressively when it came to that. The other guys on the team liked him just great, although he was a bit separate from us in some way. Even when he did come out for beers to celebrate victories, he was always pretty quiet. I just thought he was shy--a bit odd for a strapping 6'2" defenseman--but a good, solid guy. And that tended to be the majority opinion. John smiled shyly as I came into the showers, stripped down to my jock and whistling loudly. "Oh..what's up Helms? Didn't think anyone would still be here." As I talked I stripped down nude and turned on another shower head in the large communal shower--no big deal. "Hey Luke. Just got caught up after practice so got delayed a bit. Saw you running laps, you're a total beast man." I smiled, "Well don't wanna keep losing, so gotta keep it up right? Can't believe how Schmiddty just fell apart out there." "It wasn't just hit fault. Our lines were broken the whole game." "True." There was a silence as I continued to wash myself. Not sure when I noticed it but I looked up to John after a while, and caught the unmistakable flinch of a man caught staring at another man's tackle, transfixed. I was soaping up my schlong and nuts good so they we're a bit engorged, feeling good and bulky. I hadn't even given it a thought before, not a single one, but suddenly I knew John Helms was a fag who wanted what he just got caught looking at. I didn't play all my cards, just shook my dick at him a little and kept talking about the game, how mad coach was, and other nonsense. He tried to play it cool but his growing hardon betrayed him-this dude would be mine. He wrapped up as I began shampooing and headed to the lockerrom with a simple 'See you man.' I took quite a while finishing up myself, turned on a bit to be honest and thinking of my blowjob from Scott. I debated jerking off but thought John may still be in the lockerrom. I eventually dried off a bit and slid on a pair of clean white boxer-briefs. I exited and headed towards my locker. The whole place was empty, only the soccer team shared that gym and they were away at a tournament. Still the whole place reeked of sweaty guys, and I remember thinking it had been far too long since they cleaned up the joint. It was at that moment I passed a row of lockers and saw John just sitting there in his jock, kegs straddling the low wood bench between the wall of lockers, just sort of doing nothing. A throbbing hard boner was pulsating against the fabric of his jock pouch, that was obvious enough. Some faggots couldn't be any more obvious... I almost walked by but then went into some strange auto-pilot. I walked towards him, saying nothing, walking with my legs on either side of the bench as well so by the time I was before him my crotch was directly at his face level. I pushed it further to him so it was merely a millimeter from his nose. I looked down mockingly, a bit disgusted by this pathetic homo sniffing my dick after school, and definitely turned on by the thought of owning his mouth. I felt the intake and release of his breath, taking in the scent of my freshly showered cock. I held it there another moment. Then WHAM, slapping my package into his face, I could have practically given him a blackeye with the impact. He buried his face into my member and nuzzled my balls with his hand through the leg of my boxer-brieefs. He was hungry and it was obvious he'd be a real slut for me. I eventually whipped out my dick and started to feed him, using his throat like I did my brothers, only somehow ever harder. Unlike Scott, he gagged plenty, and choked to the point of almost pukinh, but that didn't stop him. He began tonguing my nuts which felt amazing and worked his way under them to my crack. Soon enough believe ir or not I had this six two behemoth of a jock licking my hairy asshole for all he was worth. I reached behind and buried his face in my man snatch, in total ecstasy. I'd have girls tease my hole with their tongues and liked it, but they never fully went at it like John was doing now. It was unbelievable. When I was about to cum I plied his face out of my hole and spun around. Just in time too, as a huge splattering of milky jizz painted his forehead and eyes. He used his jock to wipe his eyes but kept his mouth on my dick, licking up the last few drops. He looked up at me with big, pleading eyes, my dick still in his mouth, and I did something that surprised even me at the time. Not sure where it came from either. I gathered up my phlegm with a big, disgusting gargle, then hocked the world's biggest loogie right in his eye, just where he cleaned up my jizz. "Next time I'll tell you when you're allowed to clean up, bitch" I said threateningly, and then exited toward my locker. He stayed right there, not daring to move, dripping in my ooze. *** ON-CALL BITCH And that's how Helms became my first on-call bitch. What began as a caught glance at my dick I'm the showers turned into an entire school year of degradation. I'd pound out John's face in the locker room or bathroom, cop head from him in my truck in the senior parking lot, and dick smack him in my dad's basement while smoking the pot he brought me. He fucking loved turning into a trashy skank for me, and I couldn't have imagined how slutty he would turn out to be. I knew after about a month that all the blowjobs and rimjobs weren't going o be enough, and that soon enough it would be time to bend him over and take what was mine. I had some experience fucking Jenni Ackerly in her ass, the same night she blew my buddy Briggs - a fact Briggs and I recounted gleefully when he met up for a Bruins game the year before. But even a slut like Jenni could barely take my mammoth dick up her back door, she screamed like the bitch she was and I could feel her ass tearing as I worked my way in and out. I had a feeling John's ass would be a bit more forgiving. I was not disappointed. Giving him a lift in my pickup one night after.a Lacrosse party, I bypassed his house and headed into a wooded area the town kept undeveloped as a nature reserve. Fairly far from humanity, I parked the truck began rolling a joint. "Get into the flatbed, pull down your pants, and bend over. Just wait for me. Now." Well trained by then, John hopped out of the car and jumped into the trucks bed. I continued to roll the joint as I watched him throw the rear view mirror: unbuckling his belt, sliding down his jeans, and at last just bending over, hands touching his ankles. I smirked and laughed to myself, leaving him exactly like this as I lighted the rolled joint and took a few puffs. After about five minutes I finally I went into the glove box and grabbed some KY jelly, and joined John back there. He hadn't moved, waiting like a good little bitch. My dick was diamond hard as I lubed it up real good...John claimed to be a virgin although he was slutty enough to lie about that. I saw his clenched jaw and knew no matter what he anticipated some major pain, which given my thick piece was probably right. Grabbing his hair, I pulled him back and angled my dick with my hand so it jammed right up his chute. He screamed a bit, then almost laughed, then moaned with no small amount of pain. I started thrusting slow but before long went into all-out fuck mode, assailing his ass like I would any cunt on earth....only, much to my delight, even harder. I slammed the fuck out of that shit, and it felt like heaven. Disclaimer time- though maybe its a little late. I aint gay. Not even a little. I know when a dude's a stud, I'm not an idiot, but I've never been attracted to a guy in a sexual way, even a little. I'm obviously open minded, but I'm not a homo in denial or anything like that. It was simply that fucking men was in a league of its own. It made my dick feel great- and that was the bottom line. Of course I preferred a beautiful-bodied woman between my legs, but as far as sport-fucking, guys had the edge- I mean I could use them as hard and as raw and as much as I wanted, whenever I wanted, and didn't have to give a moment's thought to their comfort or--shudder--"feelings." I had plenty of friends who thought faggots were against God's will or disgusting but I didn't believe any of that--thought of them more as just pathetic weaklings, pretty low on the social food-chain. Was a dude like myself's job to keep them in their place. When I was ready to cum I donkey punched the back of John's head, causing him to clench his ass muscles and milk out the intense hot load from my wet dick. I felt like I was cumming all the way up into his stomach as I moaned and gave my final thrusts. Jizz and lube drizzled out of his puckered red hole and I layed back to recuperate. So that was that. *** FUCK BUDS We fucked a lot that year-- in my car but at his house too, his loser parents worked nights and we had the place to ourselves to mess around. I was also seeing a bunch of girls from my class, including the senior class president Vanessa Strode. She was hot but unbearably prude, consenting to short, unenthusiastic intercourse only rarely. I didn't ruin her rep for being a lousy lay and she didn't give me shit about fucking other girls or never asking her to stay the night...a relationship that worked for us. Funny thing is John started hanging out with the team more, gaining more confidence and presence even as I regularly tore down his ego with my dick. To be honest I liked that he was an average guy jock, and not some twerpy fag like the ones I'd see downtown sometimes when I headed to the city. I didn't care about those guys, had no interest in using their faces. It was the ones who no one suspected for being bitches that gave me a rush when I used them...when I degraded them totally. It was cool that John was tossing back beers with the boys at the only dive bar in town that would serve obviously under-aged high schoolers, and then gargle my semen later that night in the back of my truck. No one suspected at all, and why would they...truth is I could of had anyone, and did, so my secret was safe as long as people believed what they saw. And high school ended that way, pretty unceremoniously, with Vanessa and I taking prom king and queen and me getting that full scholarship ride I wanted. It wasn't a big school and sports were by no means their focus, but it was a high profile college that sunk a few hundred thousand in scholarship money on key players that might attract other players to the school. When I accepted my admittance, so I'm told, three or four other entering freshman LAX players accepted as well, just based on my reputation and prospects for a strong program. I was sitting pretty, just a long summer of bumming around and bullshitting between me and college pussy, which was highly glorified by my horndog older friends returning from college in May for their summer break. *** CAMPING Last time I saw John that year was on a camping trip in early August, up in New Hampshire's white mountains, where the two of us and five other teammates headed for some hiking before we all dispersed for college. John was the only non-senior there, but as he'd gotten close with a lot of the team by then, it wasn't so weird for him to join. We had pretty crappy weather the first day in and ended up all soaking wet, bagging a peak and descending below treeline to set up camp for the night. Whiskey was passed to stay warm, and we all got nicely toasted. As always when guys are drinking around a campfire, conversation drifted to sex, and we began telling stories of the hottest sexual experiences we've had. John was reticent, passed on providing details, whereas our buddy Bruce recounted (probably lying) a night in the Spring, nailing a girl in our class and her mother in the same night at a houseparty at their house. When it was my turn I told them about when I fucked Vanessa in the woods in town in the back of my pickup, and how I made her undress and bend over waiting for me to finish my joint. The guys loved it and I watched John blush furtively as I described tearing up her pussy standing in the back of my truck. "Well, time to jerk off and go to bed". Bruce announced, breaking up the caucus and sending everyone to their separate tents. There would be a lot of palms slapping dick that night. Not for me of course, because about twenty minutes later I was standing outside John's tent, kicking it lightly to wake him up. He got dressed and met me outside quietly, where we walked down a ways to a water source we had filled up our canteens at earlier that evening. The moon was bright and air clean after a whole day of rain, and the bright night made it possible to navigate across the river to a clearing on the other side without flashlights. John looked at me and said something about needing dick, which I hated because it sounded so faggy, and I told him to wait. Eventually we stopped and I told him to get on his knees, angry for some reason by his lack of patience, maybe grieving in some way that my endless source of nookie was gonna dry up as soon as I left for college. Whipping out my dick I asked how bad John wanted it and before he could answer let out a spray of steaming hot piss, sizzling in the night air and washing all over his face neck and chest. He gasped, not expecting any of this, and not exactly enjoying it as far as I could tell. Still he fumbled to get it in his mouth, yanking on his own dick as I wetted him down and then finished myself off by jacking off in his mouth. A huge gob of cum sat on his tongue, bathed in a pool of piss, and I hocked another loogie in his mouth for good measure. Take that, bitch. John was filthy and the night had warmed up a bit so he decided to strip nude and skinny dip to clean off. I figured what the hell and joined him, enjoying the cool water and sense of freedom you can only get on a camping trip, especially after dropping a load. John laughed at me and teased me about all the cunt I was gonna tag in college now that I dried up the resources at our school. I laughed too but suddenly things took a turn. John swam up next to me and spoke sincerely: "I'm gonna really miss you when you leave" he said, lamely. He then reached of to grab my face, and lunged in for a kiss. I jumped back a step, shocked. What the fuck did he think he was doing? He was going to MISS me? Couldn't really tolerate that word, especially from someone whom I just pissed all over, and I reacted pretty much the only way I knew how- I punched him. He fell backwards with a soft yelp but didn't fight back, just sort of disengaged sadly. Still steaming, I headed back to my tent. John had a pretty ugly black eye the next day and made up some story about slamming his face into a low-hanging branch while going for a whizz in the middle of the night - a lame excuse but no one had any reason to doubt him. The weather as better and we hiked out happily, though I was distracted and, yes, a bit guilty about the night before. We drove home silently and I dropped him off, shaking his hand formally when we said goodbye. I left for college two weeks later, without further incident or exchange. *** COLLEGE Welcome to College My dad dropped me off on campus in my truck, which I couldn't have as a freshman, so he was going to drive it back home after unloading all my things. Scott came along and hugged me goodbye, which I let him do and managed a fraternal smile and noogie. My dad quite typically said nothing much, wished me luck and patted my shoulder. He shook my hand as he left, offering little more than 'Be safe.' It didn't take me long to settle into college, I was arriving a week before others because athletes had a pre-semester training camp where coaches worked out rosters and strategy. It was pretty fun getting to know my new teammates, and I picked up pretty quickly from upperclassman on the team that lacrosse tends to be its own island on campus, teammates sticking together and not really fraternizing much outside of the team. There was even a designated (though unofficial) lacrosse 'frat' which sure enough I would pledge next semester when they took on new members. I boned a chick the second night on campus after a mixer with the football team (the only acceptable squad to hang out with if you had friends outside lacrosse). Upperclassmen were impressed with my prowess, nicknamed me Red, and invited me to some private events most freshmen didn't attend. Yep, just like high school, college was shaping up to be pretty awesome for me. The girl I fucked was named Betsy and she was a good piece of ass, tight bodied and Irish. I had fun pounding her pussy deep, even though through it all she claimed to be "not that kind of girl.". But, eager to be the unattached guy I was in high school, I refused to call her back when she texted me the next day, then the day after that, then the day after that. She was pissed the fuck off by the time I saw her at a party two weeks later, and had convinced some of her girlfriends to be bitches to me to defend her honor. I found it all hilarious, especially since within a week one of those friends--an anorexic slut named Meredith- was giving me shit-poor coked-up head in a frat bathroom at 2 AM. So it goes, Molly. It also didn't take me long to find another cocksucker to work on my dick. As it was, I found him pretty close--my roommate James was this big, pretty stupid guido with good biceps and almost no self control. He was prettty hilarious and I liked hanging with him on the field and off (he also played lacrosse, which is why they paired us). After only a week or so of bunking together, I woke up to James beating off to some gangbang porn on his PC, some poor girl taking about seven dicks in and out of every hole. He worked his boner hard from his bed in the corner of the room. I guess he heard me wake up and move around because he called out, unashamed, "yo man you don't mind right? I'm mad horned up" I assured him it was cool if I could spank it too and he told me hell yeah, and popped open some beers for us from our minifridge. I was just gonna jerk off from bed but James jumped on the couch and seemed like he expected me to join him. I thought may as well and took the beer as I lid down just to him,my dick getting hard as I watched the girl on screen deep throat a dick as two guys double stuffed her pussy. James had good looks and skill on the field but not an ounce of tact. His guys were glued to my member, which I showed off proudly. He flat out told me it was a hot dick, that he wasn't gay but would help me out if I needed it. I asked him what that entailed and before I knew it he was sucking my dick...pretty weakly to be honest. He definitely was into it but had no rhythm, and it took a little while for me to cum in his mouth. He spit the load out in he trash and scowled, "fucking gross man." But I knew he liked it. James went on to tell me about an underclassman named Cody who used to blow him in high school whenever he wasn't getting laid. Surprised by his honesty, and struck by the similarities, I told him about John, and the nasty shit we did. "Its just too fucking easy, right?" He accessed. I agreed. James said he'd suck my dick anytime as long as I didn't tell no one. But he said he wouldn't get fucked or do much else since it wasn't really his character to be too submissive. I told him he seemed pretty submissive when he was face first on my nuts, but he insisted. "We'll have to find a third bitch we both can abuse" was all he said, and I agreed, although didn't think too much about it. James was a good backup but especially after a slut like John I was too insatiable to take a step back. *** The Baseball Stud Across The Hall The solution to all this was literally thrust into my face when one morning my across the hall neighbor opened his door and Betsy--the chick I banged in my first week--came walking out, holding his hand. They'd obviously had sex the night before, which I found funny since she "wasn't that kid of girl.". She was embarrassed to see me and tried to leave, which pissed me off in a way. I also got a strange look from my neighbor, this dude named Mike. I felt like being an asshole to Molly and to Mike, eyeing them both as they walked out of the dorm. Mike looked back at me and I saw something in his eye--fear, yes, but also desire. It was an intriguing combination, and I wondered what I could do with it. I was soon gonna find out: a lot... Mike had moved into the door early alongside the other athletes, as he played baseball. Like other ballplayers I knew, Mike was a pretty boy that seemed a bit too self-satisfied given the pussy nature of his sport. He reminded me of Scott in some ways, likable to others maybe but not really self-possessed in a way other athletes tended to be. I saw through him, in other words, and even though we nodded or said whatsup the first few weeks of classes we never became anything approaching friendly. And now that I caught him with Molly, I decided for some reason he was my arch nemesis. He always seemed nervous around me in the odd instance we were at the same parties or passed one another in the bathroom the guys in our hallway shared. I was intrigued. "He's a fag" James concluded, ironically about twenty minutes after slurping on my dick. "I can tell." I wasn't so sure myself--I supposed it was possible, but he seemed pretty manly, even compared to John (who was pretty studly himself, even if he was shy.) "I'm telling you, he's a fag" James insisted. ** DRUNK PISS We started rushing fraternities in the winter and I had gotten way too drunk one night at the end of the semester. Tequila has a way of making me sloppy, and I'd had more than a few shots that night. Not sure exactly how I made it back to my dorm, in fact don't really remember much of the later half of that evening. I guess I must have passed out in the hall because when I regained something resembling consciousness I was in the dorm bathroom, being held up by an also drunk Mike, vomiting into the bathroom sink. It was pretty nasty. I remember having to piss but having no faculties to get to the toilet, so I whipped it out and started filling the sink with my urine. I guess I went back on auto pilot or something because I suddenly got the idea to piss on Mike. I had really enjoyed hosing down John on the camping trip and wanted to give it another shot. I guess I took a risk but turns out James was right--he was a fag and, even better, a piss loving bitch. He sunk to his knees and took his shower, then sucked me off like the whore he was deep down. Totally fucking hot to have another dicksucker living so close, although at the time I was too drunk to put it together. I came quickly and got the fuck out of there, eager to tell James about my discovery. "I knew it" James claimed when I reported what I remembered of the night before. "When we get back from Christmas vacation, his ass is ours." "For sure man." "One thing dude" James said, "when he's around, don't mention me sucking you off okay? He'll be both our bitches. I don't want him to know you turned me." "You don't make the rules." "Still, I'd feel more comfortable." James waited a moment before adding, "Please." I decided to play along--fine, for now at least, James could pretend to be an alpha stud like me. But we both knew the truth. Sure enough, when we we did get back from Christmas vacation I wasted no time and knocked on his door, telling him to report to my room in ten minutes. James was waiting there to video tape him sucking our dicks, and that was going to be the beginning of a beautiful fucking thing. And it really was. *** TO BE CONTINUED in part FOUR I welcome all suggestions and comments: Striker88888@gmail.com