Date: Tue, 20 Oct 2020 13:59:17 +0000 From: DurtyRiter Subject: My Favorite Freshman, Chapter 8 Disclaimer: This is an Adam's Gay Reader pulp story (#239) written by Derek Olson. There is no copyright on it, so I wanted to share it with others before it gets lost forever. This story includes sex between adult males. If this is unappealing or illegal in your location, please do not read this story. Please consider supporting Nifty so we can continue to have this great resource of stories to enjoy for a long time to cum! ;-) -DurtyRiter ********* Chapter 8: Dinner at the Frat I meant to get up early the next morning and intercept Kevin on his rounds, but my alarm clock didn't go off. So instead I called him just before dinner. "Kevin?" "Yeah." "This is Hobie Carlyle. Hey, let's get together." Silence. "Kev?" "Yeah, I'm here." "Look, why don't you come over for dinner?" "To Beta house?" "Yeah. We eat at six. Our cook puts on quite a spread." "Uh, I don't know." "What's not to know? Gotta go, buddy. See you at six." I hung up. And Kevin showed up. Right on the stroke of six. All the guys were sitting around the table, shootin' the breeze, when Kevin walked in, all shy and hesitant. I saw you three give him the eye, too. Oh come on, Jesse, I don't miss a beat, you know that. Anyway, why wouldn't you scope him out. He looked mighty fine in a green warmup jacket, brown cords, and loafers. "Hey, guys," I said, raising my voice, "I want to introduce Kevin Mayo. Kev's a freshman I met out on the slopes and also, for those of you who like waking up to a copy of the Times on your doorstep, Kevin's the reason it's there." A round of applause. Kevin blushed. "Here, have a seat," I said to the redheaded freshman, motioning to the empty seat next to me. Over dinner I learned that Kevin was from Lowell, Massachusetts, an old factory town in the central part of the state. He'd come to Tuxhill to play lacrosse. Not that he'd been recruited -- he wasn't THAT good, but he had hopes of getting a lot better. For now, he was shooting for a place on the JV squad. "You know, Kev," I said at one point, "maybe you'd like a few more pointers at the pool table after dinner." I put a hand on his thigh under the table. His muscles tensed, and then slowly relaxed as I kneaded the warm flesh. He turned to me. "Yeah, okay. Sounds good." I gave his thigh another squeeze. "How's the skiing going?" I asked. "Well, I'm really into it, but . . . l don't think I can keep going after the free lessons. Just the ski rental alone costs twenty dollars a day." "That's pretty bad. Why don't you borrow mine?" He looked up quickly from his plate. "Borrow?" "Sure. I've got three pairs -- don't ask me why." At this point my hand moved into the warm Y of his groin. "Well, gee . . . " he started to say and then he half-choked when my hand found the hot dog outlined in his pants. "You okay?" asked Reggie from Kev's other side. Reggie is a football player: big, beefy guy. The only reason he got into Beta was so we could stand half a chance in the inter-fraternity football league. "Uh, yeah, just caught something in my throat." "Say, Kevin," said Reggie, "where you living?" "I'm in Harris Hall." "Ohhhh, coed. You makin' out?" "Hmm?" "Gettin' some action?" Luckily no one else was paying any attention to this conversation. Kevin was totally embarrassed, I could tell. My hand was stroking his rod, and Reggie was grilling him on his sex life, poor guy. "Hey, Kev," I said, stepping in to cut Reggie off, "you had tryouts yet for the lacrosse team?" "Not till next week," he said, glad to be rescued from Reggie. Meanwhile his cock was firming up under my stroking. "They do defense first, starting Tuesday." "Well, I hope you make JV." I reached for the zipper at the top of his fly. The freshman didn't know what the hell was going on till I had him unzippered! "Our JV defense was lousy last year," I went on, "so I know they'll be looking for some good long sticks." With that, I thrust my fingers through the fly of the freshman's jockeys and grasped his hardening dick. Kevin dropped his fork. Luckily it landed on his steak -- hardly made any noise at all. He quickly picked it up, trying to act cool. I'm sure he had no idea how far I was gonna go with this little game. It's wonderful what you can do under the cover of a low-draping tablecloth -- with a little imagination. Doug, remember how you and I used to fool around at the dinner table when we were sophomores? Anyway, once I had Kevin stroked to a raging hard-on, I let go. Left him hot and bothered as he finished his steak. "Kevin, better have some more mashed potatoes," I said, in a totally natural voice. "No one makes 'em better than Maggie." Maggie was our cook, a townie lady of about sixty-five. All the Betas love her. Well, you guys know all about her. "Her gravy is the best around, wouldn't you say, Kevin?" I grasped his hard dick as I said that. "Uh, yeah, really great," he mumbled, his mouth half-full. Kevin was getting hot. His forehead glistened with perspiration, and beads of sweat were forming along his upper lip. But I figured he couldn't be minding things too much if he didn't say anything and didn't try to push me away. Dinner was in full swing. Lots of noise -- a general hubbub, like you always have at a frat dinner table. I reached into my back pocket, pulled out my wallet, retrieved a condom, tore it open, and pulled out a pre-lubed rubber. Then I went to work. Kevin darted a quick look toward me when he felt something like an oily skin closing over his hard knob. His jaw tightened up as I carefully unrolled the lubed rubber down the length of his stiff rod. "So Kevin," said Reggie, "you never told me how you're doing with those babes in your dorm. Gotten some of them in the sack yet?" I was stroking Kevin now, working my fist up and down his shaft. "Uh, well, uh . . . " Kevin gave a nervous laugh, hoping he could sidestep Reggie's question. Maybe he was waiting for me to help him out again. But I was having way too much fun helping him in a different way. "Nice chicks in Harris," said Reggie with a leer. "I know a few of 'em. Know 'em real well. Maybe I could set you up with one of them." "Yeah," said Kevin quickly. "That would be great. It really would." Then he ran out of things to say. "Could you pass the rolls?" he said at last. Reggie passed them. Reggie, biggest macho guy around, right? Straight as they come, right? Think again. I was flogging Kevin's rubber-encased meat under the table, getting him worked up to a real fever, when all of a sudden I felt another hand below mine. It was resting on Kevin's thigh. Of course I figured it was Kevin's hand. Naturally. But then I noticed he had both hands on the table! Reggie had moved in to join the party! Goddamn! The biggest stud in the house had decided to move in on my freshman. As soon as Reggie realized what was happening -- how far along things were -- he made his move. "Hobie, pass the mashed potatoes," he said. I had to let go of Kevin to pick up the bowl of mashed potatoes. Kevin took the bowl from me and passed it along to Reggie. When I reached back into Kevin's crotch, Reggie had taken my place! His hand was wrapped around Kevin's stick. Fuck, man! Meanwhile, the freshman was going out of his mind. Can you blame him? Here he was, in the middle of dinner with a bunch of frat guys he didn't even know, most of them good looking, all of them more sexually experienced than he -- I'm sure that's what he figured -- and on either side of him, two hunky guys fighting over his hard-on. In public! (almost) I tried shoving Reggie off Kevin's dick. I figured by rights that dick belonged to me! Nothing doing. He held on. I tried a different tack: "Reggie," I said, "could you pass the salad?" It was out in the middle of the table. But Reggie wasn't falling for that. He smiled over at me. "Kevin here can get it for you," he said. Smooth operator. Fucker! He wasn't going to let go of this kid even though he'd never even laid eyes on him before dinner tonight. What was I supposed to do? Just let another guy horn in on my . . . and then it hit me. Who the fuck cares whose hand gets Kevin off? What's the big deal? Why not make it as good as possible for this freshman? I could settle up with Reggie later. So I backed off. I let Reggie go to work on that condomized cock with his own rhythm, his Own stroke. Let him reduce Kevin to a whimpering, sex-craving . . . "Chocolate-covered bananas! Heeey, Maggie!" Sure enough, Maggie had hand-dipped two dozen bananas in chocolate, stuck them on sticks, and put them all in the freezer. It's our favorite dessert at Beta house, and Maggie makes us happy about once a month. Reggie was fooling around with the freshman, bringing him to the edge of an explosion, then backing off. All under cover, of course. No one else (except me) had the slightest idea what was going on. Everyone got a coated banana and began sucking or biting it. Everyone except Reggie. He waited a few minutes, then turned to Kevin. No one heard him but me. "Kevin, suck on mine." The freshman was too stunned by those words to know how to react, so he just kept gnawing away on his own banana. Reggie very calmly reached over with one hand (the one not pumping Kevin's dick) and took Kevin's banana. Then he handed the freshman boy his own untouched, brown-coated banana. "Suck mine, Kevin," he said in a low voice that only Kevin and I could hear. Kevin turned beet red! What was he going to do? Well, what does any freshman do when an upperclassman gives him a direct order? 99 percent of the time he goes ahead and does it. So Kevin took Reggie's banana-on-a-stick and began sucking it. Yeah, really sucking on it, up and down, just as though it was . . . Reggie's cock! "Nice," said Reggie, again real quietly. "That's nice, Kevin. Now I'm gonna do something nice for you. You ready?" And with that, Reggie gave a few final jerks to Kevin's well-pumped shaft. Suddenly I saw Kevin go rigid with the sheer force of his climax. He gripped the seat of his chair, leaned hack, and quietly exploded into the condom on his dick. Incredibly, no one knew what had happened. Just the three of us. Before long, Reggie got up and left. So did most of the other brothers. Kevin and I finished. We were both in a state of shock, I think -- I know Kev was. "You want to come up and see those skis?" I asked him. "Uh, sure, I guess." He looked hesitant. Or maybe just exhausted. What he didn't know was how worked up I was by then!