The following story is fictional. As such, it is not based on any real events or people. All characters are over eighteen, and you must be over eighteen to read it. My stories contain graphic sexual content and offensive language. In real life, be respectful of others and never engage in anything even vaguely non-consensual. Use protection.

 

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

 

Characters:

Bradley von Acht

Caucasian; Age 22; Straight, brown hair; Blue eyes; 6' 4"; 200 lbs.

University Senior; President -- Pi Kappa Epsilon (PIKE); QB -- University Football team

Jon Swenson

Caucasian; Age 19; Neck-length, straight, blonde hair; Blue eyes; 5' 10"; 160 lbs.

University Sophomore; Treasurer -- PIKE 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 -- PIKE; High School Football & Wrestling

Taylor

Caucasian; Age 21; Straight, dark, blonde hair; Blue eyes; 6' 2"; 185 lbs; Striking resemblance -- young Tom Brady

University Senior; Vice President -- PIKE; RB -- University Football team

Todd

Caucasian; Age 21; Curly blonde hair; 6' 2"; Blue eyes; 175 lbs.

University Senior; Member -- PIKE; Rower -- University team

Colin

African American; Age 20; Short, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 4"; 200 lbs.

University Junior; Boarding School Football & Baseball

Matt

Caucasian; Age 20; Short, white-blonde hair; Blue eyes; 6' 1"; 170 lbs.

University Junior; Secretary -- PIKE; Wrestler -- University team

Luke

Caucasian; Age 21; Straight, brown hair; 6' 2"; Brown eyes; 170lbs.

University Senior; Treasurer -- PIKE; Football (Sidelined) University team

Ryan

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

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

Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, brown hair; Brown eyes; 5' 11"; 160 lbs.

University Sophomore; Member -- PIKE; High School Football & Basketball

Chris

Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, dark auburn hair; Brown eyes; 6' 0"; 160 lbs.

University Sophomore; Member -- PIKE; High School Football & Basketball

Tyler

Caucasian; Age 20; Neck-length, straight brown hair; Hazel eyes; 6' 2"; 175 lbs.

High School Football (RB) & Baseball

Dave

Caucasian; Age 20; Straight, blonde hair; Blue eyes; 6' 1"; 170 lbs.

High School Football & Baseball

Tyrese

Biracial (Black/White); Age 22; Wide mohawk w/ long, tight, bouncy curls; Brown eyes; 6' 3"; 225 lbs.

University Senior; Vice President -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas); TE -- University Football team

Darnell

African American; Age 21; Short, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 5"; 210 lbs.

University Senior; President -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas)

Deshawn

African American; Age 20; Short, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 3"; 190 lbs.

University Junior; Active -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas)

Trevon

African American; Age 20; Short, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 6"; 215 lbs.

University Junior; Active -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas)

Jonah Erickson

Caucasian; Age 18; Curly, blonde hair; Blue eyes; 5' 11"; 155 lbs.

University Freshman; High School Basketball & Baseball

 

 

 

 

 


 

Chapter 19

 

"You left me with those fucking beasts, you sonofabitch!!! ...you motherfucker!!! How could you do that to me?? Why would you do that to me?? We were best friends! We're frat bros, sworn to support each other as brothers?? ...you goddamned motherfucker!!!" Monday afternoon, after Chase got back from one of his classes, his roommate and best friend, Dylan, had demanded they take a walk. Dylan was beyond hurt and angry over the events of the previous day, and, being they were roommates in a frat house, the two couldn't hardly talk openly there. Dylan didn't want to risk being overheard and `outed' to his TKE brothers.

The previous late afternoon--a quiet Sunday, Chase had taken his cherry in a humiliating, disgusting restroom stall of the near-abandoned Engineering building. What's more, Chase had tag-teamed him in the stall with a stranger--a handsome, blonde boy, John, a student there at the university. If that wasn't bad enough, Chase had left both Dylan and the stranger to be manhandled and fucked stupid by Darnell and Deshawn, who just happened upon the three in the restroom.

Now, the following afternoon, Dylan demanded the walk with Chase with the intention of telling him what he thought of his former friend and getting answers for his actions. They'd walked in silence in the cold and snow several blocks into a nearby residential district before Dylan opened-up, letting Chase know what he thought of him. The two were both rugby players on the university's team, but Chase was stronger and more muscular of the two. Both were exceptionally handsome, but in different ways--Chase being a dirty blonde with light gray-green eyes and Dylan being an olive-skinned boy of Italian descent with shaggy-cut black hair that was short but not very short. (You could see his earlobes.)

The two boys had stopped along a quiet, frozen, tree-lined street--the neighborhood blanketed in new snow. Dylan had no sooner got his last expletive out then swung at Chase. Fighting in hooded, down-filled coats and gloves in the snow is a recipe for disaster, especially when the other dude is, in fact, stronger than you. Dylan missed Chase's jaw by an inch, and Chase lunged at the boy, landing the two in a bank of snow under a large, frozen tree. The tougher boy sat on top of Dylan, grabbing his flailing arms and pinning them in the snow on either side of his head. "I wish I'd never met you!! How could you do that to me??" Dylan yelled.

Chase leaned his face down over the other's, laughing, "Because, dude, you're a full-fledged faggot!"

Dylan stupidly tried spitting upward at Chase's face, only to have it land back on his own. "I'm NOT a faggot!! We were friends!!"

"Oh, we're still friends, Dyl ...friends with benefits!" Chase laughed. "Being you love spit so much, here's some of mine for you." Chase let long drool of saliva fall down, landing on Dylan's cheek, rolling down across his face. "How was it with those big, Black coons yesterday anyway? I see you're walking a little funny today." Chase laughed and taunted his friend. "That one dude had a HUGE fuckin' cock, Dyl. Are you all stretched-out today? Can you hold your shit in?"

Dylan started crying. It had been awful in that restroom after Chase left. Deshawn fucked him first, while John sucked Darnell. After Deshawn finished ploughing him, Dylan thought for sure the Ice Cold Brotha had filled his butt a quart of his thick, white cum--what with the amount he felt running down the backs of his tan legs, onto his clothes below. Deshawn, then, moved over to John, making the virgin clean his cock before subsequently fucking the cherry right out of the blonde boy.

The two Black dude's cocks were both 11", but Darnell's was around 5" diameter at its base, whereas Deshawn's was only around 2.5" diameter. It had been a good thing for Dylan that Deshawn went first, because--with his thick cock--Darnell really threw the Italian boy the fuck of his young life. Afterward, Dylan held certain disturbing secrets close to his heart. He would never acknowledge just how good the fuck from Darnell had been--despite the Black stud's thick cock. Dylan would never admit to anyone it actually turned him on when Darnell grabbed the thick, shaggy hair on the back of his head, pulling it backward while he through him his third (and best) fuck ever. He'd never admit to Chase how much cum he himself shot all over his clothes below toward the end of this fuck, while Darnell got all-up-in the White boy--truly converting his ass to a pussy.

Deshawn, the first of the two Black dudes to fuck Dylan, had been rough and mean with him, though--slapping on the back of the head, saying all kinds of demeaning things to him. So when Darnell finished with him, Dylan wanted out of that restroom as quickly as possible, and the only reason he'd been able to escape was due to the fact Darnell moved to the blonde boy's mouth--the two Ice Cold Brothas then tag-teaming the blonde boy. Dylan went to the restroom of a nearby building, where he did his best, trying to clean the cum from his face, hair, and clothes before heading back to the frat. He blamed Chase for everything that had happened in that restroom ...but he really hated himself for loving the fuck Darnell had so gladly thrown him. Now, Dylan laid crying in the snow--unable, even, to beat the fuck out of Chase, as he'd promised himself.

Chase laid down on top of Dylan, wedging himself between the dark-haired boy's legs and dry-humping him in the snow. Letting go of Dylan's arms, Chase reached between his legs to discover Dylan was, in fact, now hard. "You know, Dylan, I think you protesteth too mucheth. Yeah, dude, `cause you're really hard right now. You want Chasey to fuck you right here in public...in the daylight?" Dylan flushed red and turned his face to the side, trying to avoid Chase's beautiful, hypnotic eyes. Of course, Chase wasn't having any of it. He grabbed Dylan's chin with his other hand, forcing the boy to look at him. "You know what I think you'd really like? ...to be bent over a bench in the locker room having the whole rugby team tapping that fine ass of yours." Dylan shook his head `no', but Chase continued, "No?? Oh, I bet you would."

"I hate your fuckin' guts," Dylan tried assuring Chase.

"No, you don't, Dylan--not with this hard-on." Chase gripped Dylan's hard cock through the boy's corduroys. "You're probably just upset we have another roomie and that I can't fuck you every night. Well, don't despair. I'll find ways to accommodate your secret, carnal desires."

Dylan pulled Chase's face down, crying into the stronger boy's neck, "Why did you have to do that, Chase? It was bad enough you chose to move on me in the restroom, let alone encouraging in the White guy into the stall and leaving me with those Black dudes." Chase, however, could feel Dylan's hands now tightly wrapped around his thick coat, pressing the two bros tightly together, and as Chase began dry-humping Dylan again, he felt Dylan's legs wrap over his own.

"I'll tell you what, Dyl. I'll make it up to you. I've been keeping a secret from you. You know Ryan, right? ...in TKE? ...the cheerleader?" Getting up out of the snow now, Chase extended a hand to Dylan, helping him up.

Dylan's brow furrowed wondering where this was going. "Yeah?"

"Well, I've been fucking him. Oh, he likes to refer to it as `raping', but we all know he craves the D."

"What are you saying, Chase?? You're fuckin' lying, dude!" Dylan was shocked.

"No lie, baby ...no lie. See, he lives down the hall from your Jon-Jon. Remember that first day I went with you to Jon's?" Chase explained, "Well, when I left that day, he was coming out of the restroom, wrapped in a towel, practically begging for my big cock!"

"You fuckin' liar! I was at Jon's several times afterward, and I never ran into him there!" Dylan asserted.

"It's all about timing, baby ...all about timing. Ryan overheard us, Dyl, and I couldn't very well let that get out, now could I? So...I spent the rest of the day and night ...and next morning! ...fuckin' some sense into him! Now he's just like you, dude! Ryan fuckin' loves the cock! ...can't get enough!" The two boys had entered a park, and seeing a bench, Chase sat down, prompting Dylan to sit as well. "Now, as I've told you, Shanice likes to get her freak on, but she has limits. You know how girls are. But with Ryan, I'm able to explore a lot of my fetishes: he can't afford to let any of my pics get out. Smell me?" Dylan sat with his mouth open, listening with rapt attention to this incredible story. "Now, he claims he hates my fetishes, but I don't really give a fuck. He's the first person I can really go whole-hog on, you know? I tie him up, fit him with a ball-gag, put a hood over him, put titty clamps on him... things like that. I actually bought a sling, but I haven't figured out yet how to best put it up. You should hear him carry on, Dyl! You'd think he hates me, when you know goddamned well how much he loves me! Here, take a look at this!" Chase handed his cell to Dylan. "I set the phone on a bookshelf to get this video."

The video showed poor Ryan fit in the middle of his bed with a red ball-gag--his arms stretched in the air tied to each corner of his headboard. Ryan was on his knees with Chase in a hood fucking him hard from behind. The cheerleader was clearly not happy, crying loudly with tears and snot running down his face. Chase was not only throwing the boy a violent fuck, but he was also taunting him, saying, "What?? Do you want to wear the hood too?? How `bout we try out those titty clamps??" Ryan screamed out around the ball-gag in fright, terrified by the thought.

Chase grabbed his phone back and put it away in his coat pocket. "Pretty cool, huh?" Dylan nodded, transfixed at the thought of having sex with the hot dude. "Tell you what... I'll make it up to you by letting you come with me tomorrow night, okay? Shanice has a thing with her sorority then, so I'll be free. Now, don't worry: he doesn't know anything about you. Ryan doesn't know you're a faggot like him, so he'll be really mortified seeing you too. It'll be great!!" Chase was elated with the thought of terrifying the cheerleader more.

Dylan winced at the jab about being a faggot, but on the whole, his cock hard just thinking of fucking the hot Honor's student. "How often have you fucked him?" Dylan asked--curious exactly how long this had been going on.

"Oh, because Shanice is pretty satisfying--and very generous with her fucks--I've only been to see him four times since that first night. It's hard getting away from her too. That's the reason I'm planning to surprise him tomorrow night, when Shanice is busy. Get this, dude..." Chase said excitedly "he never knows when I'm gonna show! He's totally terrified when I do! Since that second night, he tries pushing against the door to keep me from coming in... One time, he'd even moved his dresser against the door and wouldn't answer the door, so you know what I did? I went downstairs and knocked on his landlady's door. She's an old, white-haired gal. Anyway, I explained I was a close friend of Ryan's and that he'd been acting suicidal lately. I told her I was convinced he was in his room, but he wasn't answering at all." Chase laughed at his own audacity. "Anyway, she climbs the stairs with me behind her. I didn't say a word, letting him think it was just his landlady. She knocks on his door, saying, `Ryan? Ryan, honey, are you in there? I just want to make sure you're doing okay. I'm a little worried.' Of course, Ryan thought she was by herself and hollered out, `Just a minute, Mrs. Helms.' We both heard him pulling that heavy dresser out from the door, and when he opened it, dude, you should have SEEN his face when he saw me!" Both boys now laughed hysterically. "Dude! He was 20 shades of fuckin' red, being caught out like that. And his stammering!! Oh fuck, dude, it was priceless! He goes, `Y-y-yes, M-M-Mrs...Mrs. Helms, I-I-I'm fine.' And here's the best part! The old lady says, `Well, your friend here is very worried about you. Say, why've you got my dresser all the way across the room?' Dude, you shoulda seen his face then! If it was red before, it was crimson then! The stupid fuck doesn't know what to say, so he stutters, `I-I-I don't know.' She says to him, `Ryan, what do you mean you `don't know'? You're the only one living in this room. Ryan, honey, should I call your parents? I know school can be extremely stressful sometimes.' He totally panics now and says, `Oh, no, Mrs. Helms! I'm totally fine ...totally fine! My friend just overreacts sometimes. I'm totally fine. I just moved the dresser to change the room around a little bit.' The old lady doesn't believe him, `cause, like I said, she heard him pulling that big, heavy dresser away from the door too! Anyway, she says to him, `Okay, Ryan, but if you want to talk to me about anything, honey, you just knock on my door. You're my favorite tenant, dear.' She pats his hand and turns to me, saying, `You're a very good friend to Ryan, checking on him like this, when he's obviously out-of-sorts. Thank you for coming to get me.' I tell her `thank you' and how much I appreciate her helping as she'd done... blah, blah... and the minute she turns her back, I barge into Ryan's room for a night of pure torture!! That's the night I made that video. Man, he fuckin' HATES those titty clamps, but I've only used them the one time. See, his nips are so small there's hardly anything thing to clip them to--they kept falling off! So that's a real disappointment, but I might try using them on his ball sack!"

Dylan finally started wrapping his head around this new revelation. The wrestler dude had punched him hard in the stomach, warning him to stay away from Jon. Now, Dylan realized there was another HOT dude available for the romancing. Dylan was so not into the whole torture-thing, but he was into the idea of getting close to Ryan. He thought maybe he could coax Chase into not being so mean to Ryan, and he also realized Chase didn't have a lot of free time to spend with Ryan, leaving the possibility of wooing the cheerleader behind Chase's back.

 

*******

 

Humans are funny animals, and once they experience something very pleasing, they somehow associate `place' with `gratification'. Once they experience something sexually erotic and satisfying, they psychologically associate the `place' (or `type of' place) with the act itself. Perhaps this was truer when sexual topics were taboo--unspoken in `polite society'--and especially true of sexual `aberrations', such as homosexuality. In some places, this is still true: rural, Midwestern towns, the deep South, the remote Western U.S., and so on. While Dylan was a city boy, he'd been raised in an Italian family--the air heavy with machismo and Catholicism, and so, in a many of respects, his sexuality had been repressed.

Late that afternoon, Dylan was good-and-horny. He was horny from Chase dry-humping him in the snow, and he was horny with thoughts of being with hot Ryan. He consciously told himself he needed to study, so on that pretext, he skipped dinner at the frat. Not saying anything to Chase, he threw his backpack over his coat and quietly slipped out of the frat, heading for the Main Library. Dylan knew very well his frat bros would not likely go there following dinner, preferring instead the Greek `dog-and-pony-show' at Bergman Hall.

He exited the elevator on the fifth floor at 5:00 p.m. Very few people are in the library at 5:00 p.m. on a Monday evening. Most kids have packed-up and gone back to their dorms to eat dinner. At any library on campus, there are certain times of the day when it goes from being noisy and bustling to suddenly very quiet, and Dylan knew this. After exiting the elevator, he told himself to head for a certain area having a few tables and get busy with his assignments, but instead, Dylan found himself going into the restroom. It was fairly dark inside, with only recessed ceiling lighting above the row of sinks and mirrors and only two recessed ceiling lights working above the four urinals. There were four stalls in the back--two on one side and two on the other, and none of the four, recessed ceiling lights were working above these stalls, making it quite shadowy back there.

Slowly walking back to the stalls, Dylan quickly discerned the restroom was empty. He entered one of the back, handicap stalls--almost as if in a trance, hanging his backpack on a hook on the wall and his coat on an adjacent hook. Dylan untied his sneakers and toed them off. He opened his belt buckle and pulled both his jeans and briefs down his tan, muscular legs, hanging his clothes on the back of his stall door. Dylan wouldn't get them filthy this time. Then he put his sneakers back on, tucking the shoe strings inside before unbuttoning his shirt and hanging it on the back of the stall door also. At 6' 1", with muscular pecs and a six-pack, the olive-skinned rugby player was a catch by itself, but Dylan also had a strikingly handsome face that girls swooned over--angular, with soft, brown eyes and long eyelashes. Indeed, he'd been the heartache of many girls--high school, coed, and sorority girls alike. Dylan had another physical characteristic too--one that garnered much attention in the locker rooms and showers. This was Dylan's round, hard, perpetually tan butt, that curved out from the small of his back almost like a shelf. Over the years, his teammates had snapped their damp towels at it, pinched it, groped it a little to familiarly for Dylan's liking, and, finally, even dry-humped in the shower last season. Dylan had been mortified when some of his teammates and friends held him flat against the shower wall last year, watching and encouraging one of the Seniors as he humped Dylan's crack with his big, hard cock. Dylan was relieved when one of the coaches came in, breaking it up.

Now, the olive-skinned stud sat his prize booty on the cold toilet seat. Dylan's heart raced a bit, wondering what the fuck he was doing there--naked, except for his socks and shoes, in a stall of a public restroom. The stall doors and dividers were made of a heavy metal and painted gray, adding to the dimness of the room. Every summer, the university painted the stall doors and dividers, and every semester, horned-up college boys scratched and drew numerous pornographic drawings and obscenities on the dividers. There was a fairly good pencil drawing of a nude, large-breasted girl fingerbanging herself. That dude had some talent and had obviously spent too much time there, fantasizing. There were both good and bad etchings and drawings of penises, naturally--a fairly well-drawn one was on the back of the stall door, entering the mouth of another male on his knees, masturbating. Phone numbers, poems, and various obscenities were scrawled all over the stall's divider. `What...am I doing here', Dylan kept asking himself, slowly masturbating his 8" cock, `I've got Civ and Lit assignments due in two days!' Still, he remained seated on the toilet in the shadows.

Dylan sat for over 10 minutes before hearing the outer restroom door open, followed by the inner door. The footsteps on the tile grew louder as the person approached his stall, trying to open its door. Realizing it was occupied, he took the adjacent stall. Dylan heard the dude hanging his backpack on the back of his door and taking his coat off. He heard the metallic, clinking sounds of dude opening his belt buckle, followed by the sound of the dude's pants sliding down. Then Dylan felt the dude sit down--his own toilet faintly moving as well. And Dylan was horny. He wondered who the dude was--was he White? ...Black? ...Latino? More importantly, what did his cock look like? Dylan's mouth watered at the thought--that was the reason he was there. Dylan needed to suck cock ...to worship his new, phallic god. He was putting his reputation at great risk ...for cock. `What...am I doing?' Dylan's heart raced, as he realized just how much he stood to lose. `Maybe he's totally straight and will barge in, bashing my head against the wall? Star Rugby Player Dead, Found Nude in Library Restroom. That's what the headline will be. Maybe he'll recognize me and `out' me to the world? I'd most certainly be kicked off the team and lose my scholarship. I'd be expelled from TKE.'

Dylan beat his cock slowly and edged his shoe near the space under the partition. Wearing only gray ankle socks and this being winter, the dude in the adjacent stall would most definitely realize Dylan had his pants off. Still, he edged his shoe near the partition. A deep voice broke the silence, "Motherfuckin' faggots..." Dylan quickly pulled his leg back. The dude was Black, and he didn't sound friendly. Dylan started losing his erection, panicking. `I just have to sit here quietly, and he'll do his business and leave. Chill. Chill.' Dylan sat on the toilet, staring at his sneakers, wishing he hadn't done this. It was quiet for a couple of minutes, before he was shocked out of his skin! "Motherfuckin' faggots... I can always count on them this time of day." At 6' 6", Trevon's face loomed over the partition, staring down at a very scared Dylan. "It's cool, faggot. Chill. I've got a big one here for ya to swing on." Trevon pulled his jeans up and grabbed his things, before exiting his stall and banging on Dylan's door. "Yo! Open up, faggot. I got a real treat for you here." Dylan thought his heart would pound out of his chest. This could be a setup, and he really might end up dead or badly beaten, nude in a public restroom. However, the dude's handsome face, staring at him over the stall door didn't look angry, and Dylan watched as his hand stretched out, unlatching the door.

Yeah, Trevon was one fine-looking stud! He was big, yeah, but not `linebacker' big. He was muscular but still slender with an angular face, a long, narrow nose, and small ears cupping his head. He wore his hair in a short fade and had very intelligent-looking eyes. In fact, the Ice Cold Brotha was highly intelligent and exuded a seemingly natural coolness and confidence about himself. Trevon didn't have any trouble getting girls attention; he just had trouble keeping them once they saw his hard 14" cock (and most especially after having tried taking it). Consequently, he didn't get as much pussy as he'd like. Thank god for faggots, though! Trevon discovered quite by accident his Freshman year that he could get some awe-inspiring blow jobs in certain restrooms around campus at certain times of the day. A few of those times, he'd found a fag willing to ride his bull-cock, leaving Trevon to believe boy-cunt was just as good--if not better--that the real thing. Seeing the nude, olive-skinned rugby player on the toilet, staring at him with his pretty eyes, Trevon decided he'd hit the jackpot tonight! `No nerdy-looking, dweeb-faggot this time!' he reveled to himself. After throwing his coat over the top of the stall door and hanging up his backpack, Trevon turned around, revealing he hadn't buckled his belt or fully-buttoned his jeans before coming over. "Now, aren't you a fine-looking faggot! Why do you want to be gay, looking like that? I bet you could have your choice of pussy any time you want."

Dylan was way too nervous and scared to talk. His teeth chattered uncontrollably, so he just shrugged his shoulders, looking away from the dude. "Well, I don't care if you're a faggot. More head for me." Tre snickered, popping the rest of his jeans buttons open and shoving them and his briefs down his thick, muscular thighs. Dylan's eyes were as big as saucers, seeing the mammoth cock, but still, he couldn't stop his teeth from chattering. Trevon calculated Dylan couldn't be a virgin--sitting in the nude in public restroom as the White boy was--but he figured the buff boy must be pretty new to faggotry. "Wait a minute... Do I know you?? Have you been in one of my classes?"

Dylan's eyes flew open in fear, and he blushed scarlet fearing the big Black guy recognized him as being on the university's soccer team. He stammered, "N-n-n-o... No, I don't think we've ever met."

"Are you sure?? Somehow, you look familiar... What's your name?" Trevon grilled.

This was Dylan's worse nightmare. He should have been prepared, but his craving to suck cock--to see cock and pay homage to it--had usurped his common sense. Dylan's eyes darted from side-to-side, trying to decide what to say, and he clearly looked like someone backed into a corner.

"Never mind, cracker..." and with that, Trevon turned and searched in Dylan's jeans pockets, hanging on the wall, until he found the boy's wallet. "Dylan d'Abaco... Dylan d'Abaco... I know that name... How do I know that name?" Trevon stared at the boy then down at the Student ID then back at the boy... "Hmm... I don't know... You sure do seem fami..." Tre's look of puzzlement suddenly changed to one of realization, and a smile like that of the cat that caught the canary crossed his face. While Trevon wasn't a big fan of rugby, he was a sports fanatic who read and watched everything sports-related. "You queer-assed motherfucker!" and looking up, speaking to no one in particular, "Jesus Christ, are all the sports stars at this university queer??"

Panic rushed into Dylan's brain. In `flight' mode, he stood, reaching for his briefs with the intention of dressing and getting the fuck out of there. Now was the time to leave...before this Black dude snapped a pic of him (or worse yet, a video). The dude might be able to start rumors, but he had no evidence. With his eyes focused on his clothes and dressing, Dylan quickly stated, "I've made a mistake."

Trevon easily overpowered Dylan, pushing the nude boy up against the stall divider. "Oh no, you haven't. You haven't made any `mistake', jock-boy." Tre laughed at this amazing turn of events. The other two--Deshawn and Darnell--had pretty much taken ownership of their respective bitches, each making excuses to the others as to why they weren't `sharing' on nearly every occasion. Now, Trevon had caught his own fish, and this time, the shoe would be on the other foot for his friends, Deshawn and Darnell. "Now Dylan d'Abaco... we're just getting to know each other--you, the faggot rugby player, and me, your new Black daddy--so sit your ass down and suck my Black cock, bitch!" Trevon spit out.

Trying to think of any way out of this, Dylan stammered, "How...how...how about I offer you some money for your trouble? I-I-I'm not trying to insult you ...really. I'm in t-t-trouble, I know... I-I-I've got mental problems, I know, and I'm so, so sorry I've bothered you. Please let me go, please..." One big tear dropped from each of Dylan's big, brown eyes. Dylan realized the great severity of his foolish mistake.

"Oh, your a pretty, little thing, you sure are." Trevon wrapped his arms around Dylan's waist, sliding his big, Black hands down from the small of Dylan's back...up and over the rugby player's round booty. The glutes were hard, and Dylan's skin was so smooth. Trevon's hard cock--pressed between them--dripped with eagerness. "Now, you treat me right, and I'll treat you right. Dig? Now, sit your ass down and suck my cock, White boy."

Dylan was caught. He couldn't fight the dude, and even if he could, how would he explain to anyone who might happen in just `why' he was in the nude. He thought for a while he might even throw up--not because the dude wasn't handsome but rather because Dylan's felt secret was now out in the open: he'd ruined himself. Tears silently rolled down Dylan's face, as the Black dude guided him back in front of the toilet and, placing his big, heavy hands on the jock's naturally tan shoulders, pressed Dylan down onto the toilet seat again.

"Suck, boy" Trevon ordered, pulling Dylan's head with one and pushing his erect meat down with the other.

Even through tear-filled eyes, Dylan could see the massive cockhead was shiny with goo. He could see its eye filled with a large, white drop--there for a few seconds before being pushed out by another behind that one. As he felt the big hand on the back of his head pulling him forward, Dylan opened his mouth and reached up with both hands to grab ahold of the thick, 14" cock. The Black meat was hot--its skin silky over the hard bone underneath. Silent tears still dropped from his eyes, as he stuck his tongue out to lap at the rich seed. Trevon's musky scent filled Dylan's nose--a scent not at all unpleasant to the boy--as he slowly began lapping at the cockhead with more urgency and devotion. He mouthed and nursed on the beautiful, Black cockhead, coaxing more of the white stuff from its eye. The gooey slime soon covered Dylan's tongue, as the jock-boy once again found himself whoring on cock, addicted to its juices. To Dylan, cock represented male power, virility, and everything masculine. It offered its rich seed, and you were an idiot not to take what the phallic god had to offer you.

Dylan was his parents' fourth son, and as a boy, he'd been teased by other boys--and even his own brothers--for being too `pretty'. His Italian dad was exceedingly handsome and very macho. His quiet mother tolerated affair after affair, pretending she knew nothing of her husband's infidelity. By the time Dylan reached junior high, even his dad scolded him for being too `bookish', encouraging the boy to be more `manly', and it was to win his father's love that Dylan began playing rugby. Even so, when he began masturbating at 13, it was frequently images of his older, handsome brothers that entered Dylan's fantasies ...that is, until the second oldest, Domenico, began taking advantage of the polite, submissive boy. Six years separated Dylan from Domenico. When he was 20 and home from college that summer, Domenico climbed on top of Dylan and turned the boy into his personal cocksucker. It didn't happen frequently, but enough for Dylan to learn he had an addiction he'd always need to keep suppressed. Domenico got married when he was 22, and just minutes before his wedding, he had 16-year-old Dylan on his knees in the church restroom, sucking the cum out of his balls for the last time. Dylan was happy to do it but also very sad he wouldn't get his handsome brother's rich seed anymore.

A thick, white paste sealed Dylan's lips around the head of Trevon's giant cock, sucking its sweet nectar directly from its eye. Dylan seemed lost in dream, as he began bobbing and twisting more of the giant cock into his mouth. Dylan was in love with this Black man's giant phallus and the huge nuts hanging below. Dylan spread his jaws and opened his throat, taking more of the dark python inside him. His eyes teared now but in reaction to taking the huge cock inside his throat. His nose, too, started running from the strain. As Dylan's tongue rubbed along the base of the big shaft taking more cock inside, his tears ran down his cheeks, mixing with the snot. Long strands of tears and snot fell from around his lips, dangling--suspended in mid-air before finally dropping to the tiled floor. "You wanna marry my cock, White boy??" Dylan moaned his assent, and looking up at his ebony god, the jock-boy saw Trevon filming him on his iPhone. The rugby player's heart fell in his stomach, and he groaned in humiliation. "It's okay, baby. This is just for `cementing' our tight friendship, so to speak. Yeah... you are a pretty thing... You look so sweet, down there sucking my big, Black cock... You need someone to treat you right, don't ya, girl?" The sweet talk coupled with the long fingers running through his soft hair were enough to bring Dylan back to his love for the humongous cock. He lifted his mouth off the thick shaft and licked down the long length of the big, Black cock. Running his nose and tongue through the kinky pubes at its base, Dylan was hooked on Trevon's musky scent. `This man is a real man', the rugby player thought, `not a pretend-man, like me'. Dylan lifted the big, heavy balls in his hand, licking then sucking each one, washing them tenderly with his tongue.

Trevon couldn't believe his luck: Dylan was an exceedingly handsome boy, a star rugby player, and--most importantly--a very talented, gifted cocksucker. As Dylan took the cock back inside his warm, wet mouth again, he spread his jaws and opened his throat, slowly and carefully taking the hard prick inside. Dylan's mind went somewhere strange: he was actually grateful to be sucking this stud. His powerful seed would make him a better man--stronger, having fewer gay thoughts. Dylan would suck this stud off every day, if his seed would make him strong and straight.

Just then, the outer restroom door opened. Trevon thumped Dylan on his head, grabbing and lifting the jock's long, muscular legs like handles of a wheelbarrow. "Shhh..." Trevon warned him, but with Dylan's mouth and throat still holding captive the ginormous cock, Dylan's hunger was unabated. Disregarding Trevon's warning, Dylan continued bobbing and twisting on the huge, Black cock. The rustling sounds of the interloper's down coat grew louder as he approached and entered the adjacent stall. The sounds of Dylan's sucking and low moaning echoed off the tiled restroom walls, prompting Trevon to drop the jock's legs, realizing the interloper would have to be a complete idiot not to know what was going on in their stall. As the walls of Dylan's throat squeezed and sucked against his shaft, Trevon failed stifling his own a moan, and it wasn't a minute later, the face of a sexy, curly-haired, blonde boy popped above the divider. Trevon thought the kid looked like he must come from an advertisement to visit Norway--complete with dimples. The kid--a Freshman, named Jonah--eagerly asked, "Is the cocksucker any good??" Trevon just motioned the kid over with his head. Jonah jumped off the toilet, grabbed his things, and barged into the handicap stall with Tre and Dylan. Jonah was quite a stud...quite the ladies' man...but he never missed an opportunity for some good head. "Fuck, man, your cock's abnormal, dude! ...and the fact the fag's got half of it down his throat means he's just as much a freak as you!" Jonah laughed, thinking he was being funny when, in fact, he'd just insulted Trevon twice and Dylan once. At 5' 11", Jonah was shorter than both the other guys in the stall, and Trevon looked like a giant to him--at 6' 6".

"What's your name, blondie?" Trevon asked.

"Jonah." Unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, he added, "Hey, you think I could get some of that action?"

`This White boy is one ballsy idiot, coming in here insulting me and not wanting to wait his turn. He's probably had everything dropped in his lap, just because he's so sexy...and White ...fucking, White, privileged bastard', Trevon concluded. "Do you want some of this action, Jonah?"

"Hell, yeah!" Jonah eagerly replied.

"Boy, get off my cock and stand up," Trevon ordered Dylan. Jonah was confused. Turning to Jonah, Trevon announced, "If you want him to suck your cock, you're going to have to give him a big ole kiss first."

"Fuck that!" Jonah made to get his things and leave the stall, but Trevon easily put him in a choke-hold, pulling Jonah's arm behind his back. "Get your fucking hands off me!" Jonah yelled.

"If you yell like that one more time, and I'll knock every, last tooth out of that pretty, little mouth of yours. Did you stop to think what anyone who might have heard you would think about your being in this stall in the first place??"

"I'm not gay, and I'm not kissing that faggot. Now, let me go!" Jonah demanded.

Trevon yanked up on Jonah's arm, eliciting a cry of pain from the curly-headed, blonde boy. "Do you know how very little effort it would take for me to break this arm, boy? Now, you're gonna to kiss him, and when you do, you're gonna know his tongue has just been on my `freaky', Black cock, boy." Turning to Dylan, Tre ordered, "Boy, play with his cock, and maybe he'll warm-up to you. Then stick your tongue in his mouth and see if you can get it to come out his ass." Trevon laughed.

Hell, Dylan didn't mind. Jonah obviously didn't recognize him as being on the rugby team, and the blonde was exceptionally sexy--a walking, wet dream. Dylan put one hand around Jonah's cock and began pumping, while, with the other, he rubbed the boy's balls, occasionally sliding his middle finger across Jonah's taint. The blonde boy didn't want to get hard--what with a cocksucker actually touching him like that--however, under Dylan's warm, talented hands, Jonah's 8" tool hardened quickly. The boy blush--embarrassed by his cock's reaction and disgusted, having this nude faggot touching him. When Dylan leaned in to kiss the stud, Jonah pressed his lips tightly together. Trevon yanked on his arm and tightened his choke-hold. As Jonah gasped for breath, Dylan tilted his head, leaned in, and covered the sexy blonde's mouth, dipping his long, thick tongue inside. Trevon loosened his choke-hold, so the boy could breathe and accept Dylan's tongue. He whispered in Jonah's ear, "Do you taste any of my Black cum, White boy? ...because he certainly had a fair amount from my `freaky' cockhead. ... From now on, every time you kiss a girl, I want you to remember you kissed this cocksucker and that my Black DNA is floating around inside of you somewhere. Hell, you might even have a little Black baby one day! Now, how will you explain that to your woman?"

Dylan was a good kisser. All the girls he'd dated over the years had thought so. Now Dylan's tongue probed inside Jonah's mouth, while he jacked on the blonde boy's hard, 8" cock. Jonah's eyes were clamped shut the whole time, trying to pretend this was not a dude kissing him ...that is, until he felt the long, thick, Black tongue probing inside his ear--a very erogenous zone for Jonah. Trevon felt the blonde boy become more relaxed, so he gradually released him.

Trevon ordered Dylan, "Boy, get up on the toilet and turn around. Grab hold of that pipe to keep your balance." Over the years, Tre had developed a taste for eating pussy. He'd learned he had to eat pussies just to coax the bitches into letting him try to fuck them with his humongous meat. Eating their pussies helped chicks temporarily forget just how big his cock was. "Squat down. Push that ass out. ... Fuck me! You're a fine piece of ass, jock-boy..." Trevon purred--his hands groping and squeezing Dylan's big glutes--"a mighty fine piece of ass. Don't you think, blondie??"

Jonah's cock was rock-hard, pointing straight in front of him. He'd never fucked a fag, and whenever the thought crossed his mind, he'd shuddered in disgust. This ass, though, looked pretty fuckin' hot! It was smooth and clean, not hairy and filthy as he'd envisioned previously. `Yeah, I could tap that...', Jonah thought--but, he wasn't about to sound queer or eager, so Jonah answered, "I suppose..."

"`I suppose! I suppose!'" Tre mocked the hot blonde. "What the fuck's wrong with you, blondie?? This is some premo boy-cunt here! You have no clue just how premo! Get your ass down there and get a better look!"

"Fuck that!" Jonah replied. He could see the dried drops of pee and god knows what else down there on the tile, and there was no way he'd dirty his $300 pair of Diesel jeans like that. More importantly, though, this was way the fuck too queer for him. Jonah reached down his muscled thighs to pull his jeans and briefs up, but Tre wasn't having any of it. The Ice Cold Brotha squeezed both Jonah's shoulders, eliciting a cry of pain from the handsome, blonde stud, forcing him down on his knees. Trevon crouched behind Jonah, whispering in his ear, "Look at that pretty, pink pussy, Jonahy. Doesn't it make you want to give it a big, French kiss?" Reaching around, wrapping his big, Black hand around the hard, White cock, Trevon began jacking the blonde stud.

"Fuck no," Jonah whispered back.

"No?? You're shittin' me, boy..." Trevon stretched his head forward, extending his long, pink tongue onto the quivering rosebud. Jonah was horrified, seeing the handsome Black face against the beautiful, olive-skinned butt ...horrified but strangely aroused.

With the Black hand jacking his cock, a large, white drop of goo formed in its eye and dropped to the tiled floor below. `How'd I get in this mess??' Jonah thought. It was now 6:15 p.m., and in another half-hour the restroom would begin to see some traffic again. `I'll be ruined if Campus Security found me like this...' Jonah worried.

Trevon pulled back from the beautiful boy-cunt, coaxing Jonah, "Now, you try..." When the blonde Freshman shook his head `no', Trevon grabbed a fist full of Jonah's blonde curls and shoved his face into Dylan's narrow valley. "I said, `lick', boy. I'm not letting go of your hair until I see that pink tongue of yours licking this sweet, little pussy! Go on, now...lick, White boy!"

`This has got to be a nightmare,' Jonah thought, but the pain of the Black hand pulling his hair was pretty bad. Besides, the Black dude had probably already licked any shit that may have been there, so Jonah cautiously brought his tongue out and licked across the pretty rosebud. "There, I've done it! Will you please let me go now?"

"Well, first of all, you didn't say `please master', and secondly, that isn't any sort of kiss. Now, I know you've kissed plenty of girls, so I know you know how. Now, dig in there, boy, and see if you can find someone's class ring," Trevon taunted.

It hadn't tasted like anything nor did it smell as he'd expected, so Jonah finally relented and began licking across the pink rosebud. He closed his eyes and pretended it was Jennifer's pussy--a girl he'd recently been fucking. Then Trevon began licking inside his ear and slowly down his neck. Between his fantasy of the cunt being Jennifer's, the Black hand slowly and expertly jacking his cock, and the tongue sliding up-and-down his neck, it wasn't too long before Jonah was turning his face and digging into the cunt with his thick tongue. With the invading tongue, Dylan's eyes rolled in his head, letting out a long, low moan of pleasure. After a few more minutes, Jonah reached up and began grabbing and groping the hard, tan glutes. Trevon now had the kid right where he wanted him. He reached up, digging his phone from his coat pocket, and began filming the blonde boy rimming the rugby star. Jonah had his eyes closed--deep in fantasy--and had no idea he was being filmed. In fact, this risk hadn't even occurred to him. Tre mouthed and tongued the blonde, making the boy moan into Dylan's pussy--all the while filming him. "You like that pussy, don't ya, boy?"

Jonah moaned into the cunt, but Trevon repeated the question, wanting a clear `yes' from the boy. "You love that pussy, don't ya?" When Jonah moaned a `yeah' and used his fingers to spread the hole open more, Trevon reached under Jonah's sweatshirt and started lightly tweaking the blonde boy's pink nipples. "You love that boy-cunt, don't ya?" Again, Jonah moaned a `yeah, twisting his head on the cunt, tongue-fucking it. Trevon stuck his phone in his pocket and ordered Dylan, "Yo, boy! That'll be enough for now. Get down off that toilet and sit."

For a second, Jonah was both bewildered and disappointed. He was really into Dylan's cunt and was bewildered why Tre was making the handsome, Italian boy sit now...but only for a second. Jonah struggled to get up, but Tre punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Dylan sat normally on the toilet--his own cock, erect and gooey. "Push that cock down a little," Trevon ordered Dylan. Whispering in Jonah's ear, Trevon said, "Now, look at that beautiful cock, boy... Isn't that just about the most beautiful piece of meat you've ever seen??"

Both angry and frightened, Jonah shook his head `no' but uttered nothing. Trevon grabbed a fist full of his blonde locks, saying, "I'll ask you again. Isn't that a beautiful cock, blondie??"

"Owww!! Okay, sure, whatever you say!" Jonah screamed.

Tre wrapped his other hand around the White boy's balls. "Now, that will be the last time you scream, cunt-face! Hear me, boy?"

Jonah was petrified with fear, Jonah quickly whispered, "Yeah, yeah, I won't scream... I won't scream..."

"Now, don't get me wrong: I like the part where you said `whatever you say'. I like that part a lot! Now, answer my question."

"It's just a cock, okay? I'm not into cocks, so please... please, master, let me go. Please?" Jonah begged, hoping to get out of this revolting situation.

Trevon leaned into Jonah's ear, whispering, "Just hearing you call me `master' almost made me shoot my load, baby. And I've got to say, you're so pretty, sitting there begging like that. All that being said, I'm sorry, but I can't accommodate you." Tre's tongue occasionally flicked inside the blonde's ear. "You see, the one thing I can't stomach is someone who's had it easy...just because he's exceptionally handsome or just because he's White, and within seconds of your coming in here, I could tell people have almost always kowtowed. Do you wanna know how? ...because you act privileged--like, you have a `right' to things you want. It's your attitude and the things you say to people. I'd even be willing to bet no girl has ever turned you away or broken-up with you. And look at the expensive clothes you're wearing. Mommy and Daddy probably can't bear disappointing their little angle. ... So, here's the deal: if you wanna fuck jock-boy's sweet pussy, you're going to need to kiss his cock and ask him nicely."

Jonah begged, "Please, just let me go. Please, master? I don't want to fuck the fag's ass ...really! It's disgusting!"

Trevon yanked Jonah's head down onto the gooey cockhead, but the blonde clamped his lips and eyes shut tightly, disgusted by the white goo he felt on his lips. "Now, give it a big kiss with tongue and say you're sorry, you arrogant motherfucker, you!" When Jonah refused, not opening his eyes or mouth, Tre violently whispered, "Do it, you goddamned, overprivileged sonofbitch before I beat you within an inch of your life!" Jonah quickly pecked Dylan's cockhead, barely moving his lips. "That's no fucking kiss! Kiss it like it's your girlfriend, dumbass! Give it tongue and say you're sorry for calling it `just another cock'! That's a beautiful cock, and you know it!" Squeezing the boy's balls gently, Trevon warned the blonde, "And you bite that cock, motherfucker, and I'll make sure you leave here without your nuts! I promise you that! Now, kiss it like you mean it, you sonofabitch!" This time the blonde pecked the gooey cockhead, much like you'd kiss your mother, never opening his lips. Tre yanked Jonah's hair again hard, eliciting another cry of pain, whereupon Trevon shoved the blonde stud's hot, wet mouth down onto Dylan's thick, gooey cockhead. "Remember, you so much as graze that fine cock with your teeth, and you'll leave here a fuckin' eunuch! Trevon warned the new cocksucker.

Jonah's mouth was filled with Dylan's thick cockhead--a cockhead covered in the Italian boy's goo. White cum-slime coated Jonah's tongue and the roof of his mouth and slid down the blonde's throat. Jonah kept his eyes tightly shut, trying to pretend this wasn't happening, otherwise, he feared he'd start puking. The only thing was Dylan's scent filled his nostrils: it wasn't bad--quite to the contrary. A lot of pussy had a more pungent odor about it, whereas, this cock smelled faintly of soap--soap and a warm scent of some kind. Dylan's slimy precum didn't taste like anything particular, Jonah thought--seconds before he caught his tongue washing the meaty cockhead. `What in the actual fuck am I doing??' Jonah thought, but this thought didn't stop the blonde stud from lapping at the juicy meat in his mouth. In fact, Dylan's moans and the Italian boy's tan hands petting the blonde curls seemed somehow to comfort and encourage him. It was a couple of minutes later that Jonah realized he'd taken slightly more than the head of Dylan's meat inside his salivating mouth and that he was literally `sucking' on the hard yet spongey cockhead. For Jonah, the thick, slimy goo almost had a hypnotic quality about it, making him want to suck more of it from eye of the head--to coat and fill the remaining space inside his mouth before sliding down his throat. The more Dylan moaned and ran his fingers through his hair, the more Jonah wanted the cock. All on his own, the blonde stud slowly began twisting his head on the sweet meat--infatuated with it. His thick tongue rubbed the bottom of the shaft as if to `coax' more of Dylan's DNA out.

Trevon placed one of Jonah's hands on Dylan's muscular thighs and wrapped the other around the base of Dylan's cock. He pressed himself against the blonde boy's back, reaching one hand up Jonah's sweatshirt to grab and squeeze his pecks. The long fingers of Trevon's other hand roamed through the boy's blonde pubes.

Jonah's mind was already reeling--lost, in-heat--when Trevon lifted the back of his sweatshirt long enough to stick his giant cock underneath it, humping the 14" piece of meat against Jonah's bare back. The warm, heavy appendage humping the smooth skin on his back made Jonah feel both subservient and insignificant, somehow--the cock and the Black man were worthy of respect and obedience. Jonah fell under the power of the huge, Black cock and its constant flow of thick, slimy precum oozing and smearing gobs of the stronger--superior--man's seed across his back. The great, warm gobs acted like lava--slowly creeping downward ...downward toward the `V' in the small of his back ... momentarily slipping inside the top of the blonde's crack before breaking to drop inside his underwear below.

As Jonah sucked with more conviction on the Italian boy's meat, the hot, wet mouth was once again over his ear, flicking its thick, wet tongue inside his ear. The deep, husky voice whispered, "Suck that big, ole nipple, boy... That's one juicy, lactating nipple, isn't it? Nurse that nipple, boy... Suck its milk, yeah..." Jonah mind reeled, feeling manhandled and submissive--probably for the first time in his 18 years. His tongue alternately rolled around the big nipple and rubbed its bottom side, as he sucked on it, drinking its thick milk. Trevon pulled his phone out again, filming Jonah jacking the base of Dylan's cock with one hand--sucking it for its manly offering--while rubbing up-and-down Dylan's muscular thighs with his other hand. "Yeah, suck that nipple, boy...", and Jonah began twisting his head around on the cock, crazed and determined. The thick milk was intoxicating, and Jonah wanted more ...much more. The blonde stud bobbed up-and-down on four of Dylan's eight-inch cock, rubbing his tongue against its base, sucking and swallowing the handsome, Italian boy's seed.

Trevon saw Dylan begin jerking and shuddering--his eyes rolling in his head. He let Jonah swallow the first two convulsions from Dylan's cock then yanked the blonde's head off the meat, letting Dylan shoot volley after volley of thick cum over Jonah's exquisitely handsome face and blonde curls. Being yanked off Dylan's cock, Jonah's mind was still in a haze and his mouth still agape, as two, big globs of the thick cum landed squarely inside. When Dylan finally stopped firing, Trevon pushed the blonde back down on the cock, whispering, "Now, suck that cock clean, faggot!"

Dylan rolled off tissue paper for Jonah to wipe his face, and when he was able to open his eyes again, he looked up to see the phone held high above, filming him. Jonah thought he would vomit. Trevon stood and lifted the blonde stud off his knees. "Give me your phone." Trevon ordered.

Realizing what deep trouble he was in, Jonah shook his head, saying, "No! No way, man!"

Trevon grabbed the blonde boy by his sweatshirt, pinned him against the wall, and lifted him off the floor until the two were eye-to-eye. Jonah's feet dangled in the air 7" above the floor, as Trevon literally spit in the boy's face. "I'm not asking, cunt! I'm telling you. Give me your fuckin' phone or I'm gonna squeeze your balls `til they break, and then I'm gonna knock your teeth out! Do you understand??"

Pretty-boy Jonah did understand, stammering, "It's in my front-left pocket of my jeans."

Trevon dropped the boy, pulled up Jonah's jeans and briefs, and dug the phone out of the pocket. He also pulled Jonah's wallet from his rear pocket. "Jonah Erickson, huh?" Jonah nodded once. Scrolling through the boy's contacts, Trevon asked, "Is Mike Erickson your dad?"

The fear in Jonah's eyes was sickening. He paused, not knowing how to answer ...until the powerful hand--coming from seemingly nowhere--slapped him hard across the face. Jonah pled, "Yes, but please, please..."

Trevon cut him off, saying "Shut your fuckin' mouth. I'm not calling your dad...not as long as you're cooperative. Smell me?" Looking through the phone's `favorites', Trevon noticed three numbers with nicknames, instead of real names, so he keyed these numbers into his own phone. Then he asked Jonah, "Who's `beaver eater', `mr. chuckles', and `rooster'?"

"Oh, please, please, please, don't..." Jonah began but was quickly shutdown by another power-slap.

"You shut the fuck up, bitch! Who're these crackers ...or would you like me to call them and find out for myself?" Tre demanded, sticking his angry face in that of the blonde boy.

"F-f-friends... just friends," Jonah stammered.

"Are you in one of those White, faggot fraternities where they fuck each other's ass on the DL? ...because you sure look like a White, motherfuckin' faggot to me..." Trevon knew tonight was most likely the first time Jonah ever did anything gay, but he enjoyed fucking with the kid.

"No!" Jonah asserted.

"No, what? No, you're not in a faggot fraternity, or no, you're a faggot but not in a frat? It surely can't be both--not the way you ate White boy #1's ass and sucked his cock!" nodding toward Dylan.

"No! I'm not a faggot, and I'm not in a frat either! I've got a girlfriend!" Jonah was both flustered and angry.

"Bullshit! Does she go to school here?" Trevon asked skeptically.

Jonah answered, "No, she's at another college."

"Bullshit! You're making this up! What her name?" Tre continued digging at the boy.

"What'd you care what her name is?" Jonah said defiantly.

Trevon pushed the kid up against the wall and grabbed his nuts. "Don't you get lippy with me, peckerwood! ...not unless you want me sending `beaver eater' a video of you eating a boy's ass out! I asked you what's your `girlfriend's' name? ...Chad? ...John? ...Mike?"

Flustered at the gay accusations and feeling the grip of the big, Black hand on his balls, Jonah panicked, begging, "Okay, okay...just please let go of my balls. It's Kristi Johansen."

Trevon quickly dropped the kid's nuts and scrolled through Jonah's contacts again. "O-o-o-i-e! She's a hot cunt, peckerwood! ...too hot for your gay ass! ... You know what, blondie? I'll bet she'd love sucking my big, ole nigger cock, Jonah. You wouldn't mind if she marries me, would ya? ...and have some pretty, little Black babies popping out of her..."

This was, by far, the worst night of Jonah's 18 years. He loved Kristi. They'd spent the previous year and summer fucking like rabbits. His attempts to convince her to attend this university--so they could be together--were futile and in vain. Jonah had needs, though, and he reasoned to himself he was not cheating on her by getting blow jobs from fags. Now, his whole future with Kristi seemed to be disintegrating before his eyes. He felt the corners of his mouth turning down as he struggled to keep from crying.

Trevon pinned him against the wall, grabbed the back of Jonah's thighs, and hoisted him up, wrapping the boy's legs around his waist. "Nothing turns me on more than straight, White dude crying...", and with that, Trevon tilted his head and covered Jonah's mouth with his own, ploughing his tongue inside the blonde stud's mouth. Jonah was forced to wrap his arms around Trevon's neck to keep from falling, but the Black lips and tongue did nothing to stop the tears streaming down his face. The sound of his crying was blurred by the interruptions of Tre's skilled tongue as it made love to the blonde's. When he stopped and let go of Jonah's thighs, Trevon taunted him more, saying, "Don't worry baby. You'll always have me...or some other nigga to fuck you."

A new fear now spread through Jonah's brain: the fear of being fucked. NO cock would EVER go inside his ass! No way! No how! How could he end this nightmare night?

Trevon, himself, was alarmed too, though he masked it from the two boys in the stall. He'd never kissed a dude, and he couldn't explain what came over him. For now, he blocked the questions in his head, telling himself he'd think about it later.

Finally, Trevon called his own cell phone, capturing Jonah's number. Then he added his number to Jonah's contacts, under the name `massa tre'. Handing the phone back to the boy, Tre pointed at the new contact, "That's my phone, White Boy. My name's Massa Tre...to you. When you hear from me--and you will hear from me--you will drop everything, peckerwood. Failing to do so, these numbers..." showing Jonah the numbers he'd taken, "will receive some interesting videos of you--changing. your. life. forever. Do you understand me, bitch??"

"Y-y-yes" Jonah stammered.

Grabbing the blonde stud's nuts, Tre glared at Jonah, asking, "Yes, what, peckerwood??"

Jonah was so frightened he couldn't think for second. "Um-m-m... uh-h-h... Massa? Uh-h-h... I mean, Master?"

Trevon couldn't help but laugh. "Get the fuck out of here."

After Jonah washed his face and fled the restroom, Trevon turned to Dylan, wrapped his arms around the nude jock, and began making out with him. His big, Black hands each grabbed one of Dylan's hard, round glutes, squeezing them. One hand slid lower, and a long, finger dipped and pressed into his pink rosebud. Dylan was in heaven; Trevon was such a handsome man. However, the kiss ended, and the finger withdrew. "If I didn't have a major test tomorrow, I'd fuck you right now. Besides, it's getting near the time when this place will be busy soon. I don't want to see you in here again. This is self-destructive behavior ...unless you're wanting to jump out of the closet. Understand?" Dylan nodded his understanding. "I've got plans for you and blondie. Now, give me your phone and get dressed." As Dylan was getting dressed, Tre demanded and found the cell number for the university's rugby coach, Dylan's dad, and four of Dylan's TKE bros. "I own you now ...just like Jonah. Understand? One misstep by you, and your scholarship and career are over. I've added my number to your contacts. See? ...`Daddy Tre'. That's how you'll address me even in public. If I run into you and your friends on the sidewalk, in the bookstore, or wherever, you will say, `Hi Daddy Tre'. It's up to you to figure out how to explain it to your friends. By the way, I'm an Ice Cold Brotha, and I happen to know the President of TKE personally. I will call on you for favors, and you will provide those favors. Just like Jonah, you will drop everything when you hear from me. Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy Tre," Dylan acknowledged.

Trevon smiled broadly. "Yeah, I like that. You're a quick learner. I may have you leading blondie around on a leash, helping me train her. Now, get on out of here and stay out of the bathrooms--that's not a request, it's an order. Again, do you understand all this?"

Dylan did understand...and he understood the gravity of this commanding, Black man. He'd put himself near exposure, and now his public fate was in Trevon's hands. "Yes, Daddy Tre."

Tre put his coat and backpack on and stepped out of the stall. "Kiss the top of both my shoes, bitch."

Dylan's heart beat rapidly. It was 6:40 p.m. now, and you could hear the din of students outside. Anyone could walk in and see him on the floor in front of this Black stud. Dylan quickly got down on his knees, kissed the tops of Trevon's dirty shoes, and stood back up.

"Very good, fag-jock! Now, get your coat and backpack on and get out of here. I'll follow you out to make sure you're not hanging back here to suck 80 cocks tonight. Remember my warning, boy. If I catch you being a restroom whore again, I'll send your coach and dad these videos so quick your head will spin!"

Dylan acknowledged the orders with another `yes, Daddy Tre'. As Dylan opened the outside restroom door to the bright glare of the hallway lights and students milling about, Trevon couldn't help but goose the jock's perfect, round ass, turning Dylan's face scarlet for anyone to see.

 

End -- Chapter 19