BBC on Campus

My usual disclaimers:

• My past colors everything I write, from images to personal experiences. This story, however, is fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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• This story depicts unprotected sex (and plenty of it). In real-life, be safe!

• This work is copyright by the author. Commercial use is prohibited without permission. Please do not republish any parts of this story without consent of the author.

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Author's note: It's been fun writing this series, although all good things come to an end, and this is the end of Dillinger's story (or at least this part of it). For readers that have persevered through it all, thanks; it's rewarding to know you've enjoyed the story enough to keep reading. For those of you that have sampled only a chapter or two, maybe you'll wander back for the rest. And extra thanks to readers that emailed me. I appreciate the feedback! Any final thoughts and comments? Email: coltonaalto@gmail.com.

BBC ON CAMPUS

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – SNOWBOUND IN DENVER... WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO?

Part One

Enroute from Chicago to Montana, Max and I had to change planes in Denver. As we left the plane at DIA, Ronny bid us adieu after extracting a promise to let him know when we were travelling next. The hot bottom flight attendant might be a good guy to know, in more ways than one.

Travelers were descending on DIA for the tail end of the holiday travel season, making the airport terminal a madhouse. To top it off, our flight to Montana was cancelled. A nasty winter storm had closed airports across much of the northern Rocky Mountains. Web apps for the airlines were useless and customer service was a zoo, but I picked a line staffed by the guy I judged most likely to be gay. Maybe Max's jock whore costume would help us one more time.

It did, although only to a degree. The customer service rep rebooked us on a flight the next morning, which was lucky because most of the passengers around us were being told they might not get out of Denver for two or three days. He said something about being able to get us to the top of the list because we had been in first class coming from Chicago. Thank you, Ronny. The customer service rep couldn't do much about overnight accommodations, however. The winter storm was bearing down on Denver and flights were being cancelled in batches, resulting in far too many stranded travelers for the available hotel rooms. Roads in and out of the airport were becoming treacherous, and I didn't want to risk missing our flight the next day. So we resigned ourselves to spending the night in the airport terminal. After enjoying the luxury of Tom's two bedroom hotel suite in Chicago, we were destined for the other extreme.

Or at least I thought. Max and I left customer service, wondering where to eat dinner and crash for the night, when I heard a familiar voice say, "Dude, I can't believe it's you! I'd recognize those long dreadlocks anywhere!"

I turned to see a wide, familiar smile beneath a long mop of bleached-blond hair. "Stian!" I smiled, hugging the Norwegian snowboarder. We met at Harvard when Stian was in law school and I was an undergrad, and we quickly discovered an ideal sexual compatibility. Stian was a ravenous bottom with a fabulous, tight bubble butt, and I was a dominant top with a big black cock that Stian loved.

Stian was amazing. He was in his late 20s, but he looked like a teenager. At Harvard, he got carded everywhere he went, and if anything he looked even younger now than he had in law school. Maybe it was the fact he was clean shaven, not necessarily a regular occurrence when he was at Harvard.

"Where you headed?" Stian asked.

"Right now, nowhere," I replied. "Flight's cancelled until tomorrow. How about you?"

"Same problem," Stian replied. "I'm going to Aspen for a snowboarding event over the weekend, but the airport there is socked in. Luckily the law firm's travel agent was monitoring the weather a couple of days ago and got a backup reservation at the airport hotel just in case. I have to buy that boy a beer sometime."

"That's it?" I kidded Stian. "A beer? The old Stian I knew a year ago had much better ways of showing gratitude."

Stian laughed and replied, "I still do, for the right level of service. And I'm putting the boy on my list." He glanced over at Max, still dressed in his jock whore outfit. Stian's gaze returned to me with a puzzled look.

"Stian, this is Max," I said, introducing the two blonds. "Max, Stian. A friend of mine from Harvard, current hot shot lawyer, former hot shot Olympic medalist snowboarder."

The two young blonds shook hands, Max mumbling, "Pleased to meet you." I could tell he was intimidated by Stian, but most people were. Stian had a fearless confidence that came from succeeding in sports at a level most dream about but never come close to accomplishing. Stian loved snowboarding, but by the time he hit 25, he was astute enough to understand he would not spend his life on the slopes. And he was smart enough to get into Harvard Law School and impressive enough in person to get hired by one of most prestigious New York law firms.

"Fledgling hot shot lawyer," Stian said, correcting me. "You have to be, like 45 or 50 to be a hot shot lawyer. Unlike snowboarding, where you lose hot shot status at 25. I'm in the awkward two decades when I'm not currently a hot shot."

"Hmm," I said. "That doesn't sound right. You'll always have permanent hot shot status with me. You were plenty hot doing things other than practicing law and snowboarding."

Stian laughed. He took a long look at Max and said, "Okay, don't tell me. Even I can figure this out." He paused for a minute, putting his hands out and looking Max up and down, and said, "Got it. Max is in the witness protection program, and the powers-that-be understood that the last place anyone would ever look for a blond twink would be hanging out with Dillinger. So Max has the perfect hiding place in the wilds of Montana. Brilliant!"

I chuckled. Stian could be counted on for his sense of humor. Max was his usual taciturn self, his big blue eyes staring but his mouth not moving. "You're very, very close," I said to Stian.

I pondered exactly how to explain Max. He wasn't a roommate, although it was close, as the college rock climber lived downstairs from me in the converted gas station. Friend? Partly due to his age – being a couple of years younger than me – I didn't particularly think of Max as a friend, although I suppose, after spending much of the last month with him, he had become a friend of sorts. Fuck buddy? Yeah, although Max's submissive side meant fuck buddy wasn't quite right. Fuck buddies get together periodically to fuck, but it's strictly voluntary. With Max, he fucked when he was told. I had been balling the jock runner too frequently for us to be occasional fuck buddies. Whore? Max was happy and eager to give it up whenever the web app I used to list his services registered a trick, but if I got into that with Stian it wasn't going to be standing on a crowded concourse at DIA. In the end I didn't offer an explanation.

My silence prompted Stian to change the subject, asking, "Hey, you got a place to stay tonight? Because if you don't you can crash in my room."

"Sounds infinitely better than sleeping in the terminal," I said. "Thanks."

"This is becoming a pattern," Stian said, feigning exasperation. "Offering you a free bed. First New York, now Denver."

"To say nothing of those weekends at the ski areas back east for two winters and your apartment off Harvard Square for two years," I said. "I figure if you add it all up, I probably owe you about 6 months of free lodging."

"At least," Stian replied, laughing. "I plan to collect on the installment plan, if you don't mind."

"With a bubble butt like yours, how could I?" I responded.

"Fuck," Stian replied. "Here I was, looking forward to a quiet night eating bad room service and reading boring deposition transcripts. Instead I'm gonna be getting my brains fucked out by a big black cock straight out of central casting. Heaven!"

Stian and I met at the beginning of my junior year at Harvard when Stian was starting his second year of law school. Having spent a decade on the professional snowboard circuit before he went to law school, winning Olympic medals along the way, Stian was older than most students at Harvard, particularly the undergrads. Age-wise, he was in the sweet spot for men that I liked – mature, no longer a kid and having been around the block a few times. Stian was a dedicated bottom with a thing for dark skin, black hair and big dicks. So we hit it off right away, and our relationship quickly settled into regular sex. We were not in love, but the fucking was consistently hot. I had Stian to thank for knowing how to snowboard.

Stian said things – and get away with it – that other guys could never pull off, and he demonstrated that talent once again when he pulled Max next to him and said, "You're invited to the party, Max, I'd love to have you. Have you in my ass, that is. Your tight jeans aren't doing much to hide your bulge, and your cock looks like it can do some damage. Blond twinks aren't my thing, but I don't pass on stiff cocks and lean, lanky guys like you usually have plenty of stamina.

"But for the record, just so everybody understands the ground rules, Dillinger is going to fuck my brains out tonight as many times as I can coax his big black cock into my cock-starved Norwegian pussy. I don't care how fond you are of his dick, I am not sharing. Understood?" He finished his speech by grabbing my crotch and saying, "This is mine. All mine." He planted a sloppy kiss on Max's mouth. Between grabbing my crotch and kissing Max in the middle of the crowded concourse, we made quite a spectacle for anyone watching. Unconcerned, Stian followed his kiss with Max by smooching me, his tongue playing with mine and coaxing it into his mouth.

"Fuck," Stian said, breaking the kiss. "I think we'll do room service in between you boys seeding my ass."

If Max had any second thoughts, he never let on. He liked me telling him what to do, and he fell into step with Stian's power bottom routine without a second thought. Max would have bottomed for a brigade of men if I told him to, but tonight Stian ordered him to top, and Max was entirely comfortable taking that role.

Stian's travel agent had already rebooked Stian's flight into Aspen, but Stian had to make arrangements to get his snowboard equipment onto the plane. Max and I found a couple of temporarily empty seats, and Stian left his carry-on with us and went to endure the customer service line.

Sitting across from us was a young marine. I didn't pay much attention to him until it became apparent that the soldier was paying more than the usual amount of attention to Max and me. Particularly me. That set off my gaydar. The soldier's hair was cut short, military style, and he was dressed in fatigues and had a military duffle bag. I caught him staring at me and I stared back with a challenging look. He blushed and dropped his eyes to the ground, embarrassed to be caught. But in moments he was staring again, this time with a nervous, excited look.

As much as I was going to enjoy pummeling Stian's bubble butt repeatedly over the course of the night, the gray wolf in me sensed a kill, and I wondered about picking up the young marine. Stian had already announced that my cock was his to enjoy for the night, and between loaning me his apartment for my trip to New York with Shane and giving Max and me a bed tonight, I owed him at least that much. Not that I wasn't going to enjoy every inch of Stian's tight Nordic hole and enjoy it more than once. Because of everything he had done for me in college, I owed Stian many fucks.

Over Christmas in Chicago I had mostly hooked up with old fuck buddies. I hadn't had a fresh kill, so to speak, for a while, since Max and I nailed Ronny in O'Hare, and prior to that when I seeded Toshi and Koichi, the Asian father and son duo. It was absurd that I was suddenly thinking about marine ass, but the thought was intriguing. As long as Stian's hole was continuously occupied by cock, maybe he wouldn't be all that bothered by me drilling the young soldier. And if the kid had a big enough cock, he could help keep Stian's hole happy. The marine had the dark hair Stian liked, and his skin suggested he might have some Latin or Asian blood, another plus in Stian's book. Stian might forgive me if the marine had what it took. It was worth a shot.

"You stuck here for the night like the rest of us?" I asked the marine.

Surprised that I had begun a conversation after my challenging look earlier, the soldier nodded quickly and said, "Yes, sir. Looks like I'll be bedding down in the terminal. Not far off what I'm used to after living in the barracks." The marine was close to my age and might even be older, but I suppose with his military training he was so used to referring to other men as sir' that he did it without thinking. From his southern twang, the kid might be used to using sir' at home, too. "My plane to San Diego got cancelled. San Diego's weather is fine, but the incoming plane didn't arrive and there's no aircraft to fly the route."

"Where are you from, soldier?" I asked.

"Texas, sir," he replied. I nodded, letting the conversation lapse for a few moments. The marine's anticipation turned to worry that I wasn't going to engage him further. I let him dangle for a while, and he eventually asked, "Where are you headed, sir?"

"Montana if the weather ever breaks," I replied.

"Montana? Really?" the kid said.

"You sound surprised." I said.

"Well, uh, I dunno," the soldier said. "You just don't look like what I pictured guys from Montana looking like."

"What about him?" I asked, pointing to Max. "Does he look like Montana?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," the kid replied.

"So a blond boy looks like Montana, but you think a 6'5" black man with dreadlocks looks more like, what, Chicago?" I responded.

"Yeah, I guess," the kid admitted, blushing. He was wondering if he had insulted me and was nervous. But not nervous enough to retreat from the conversation.

I contemplated pressing the soldier boy, but if I was going to snare him, I didn't have much time to spare. I took the opportunity to adjust my junk slightly, causing the marine's eyes to rivet on my crotch for long moment. I replied, "Chicago's where we flew in from. But Montana's home for the next couple of years. How long have you been in the marines?"

"Summer of 2011," he replied. "I signed up as soon as they repealed `don't ask don't tell.'"

Any mystery about the marine's sexual orientation vanished as he preempted the issue. The boy wanted his sexual orientation front and center for a reason, and that reason was his fascination with me. Or more accurately, his fascination with my cock. This wasn't turning into much of a challenging hunt for the gray wolf. But a wolf never passes on alluring prey, even when it's easy.

Stian was a couple of spots from the front of the customer service line, so I said to Max, "Wait for Stian. I'm going to hit the john before he gets back."

I rose to my feet and the marine stood up too, saying to Max, "Uh, I think I'll do that too. You mind watching my stuff for a minute?" He was reading a rock climbing magazine that he tossed on his chair

Max's eyes lit up when he saw the magazine and he exclaimed, "Wow! Do you climb?"

The soldier smiled and said, "Yeah, whenever I can. San Diego isn't the best spot for climbing, though."

"Do you mind if I look at your magazine?" Max asked.

"Nah," the marine replied. "I've already been though it once, and I've got a night and a flight ahead of me with nothing else to do."

We headed to the restroom, the marine trying some small talk that I responded to politely but not encouragingly. I stepped up to a urinal and the soldier took the spot next to me, no doubt hoping to cop a look at my junk. I obliged him, stepping back enough so he could get a good look at the goods. Being 6'5", I had an easy angle to glance down at the soldier's dick, and he looked reasonably well hung. That was all the data I needed to be comfortable Stian would be okay with the kid providing a third cock to service his ass.

We left the restroom and outside I moved out of the steady stream of traffic meandering up and down the concourse, pausing for a moment. "What's your name soldier?" I asked.

"Riley, sir," the marine answered.

"Okay, Riley," I said. "I'm going to make you an offer, but it's take or leave, and I need an answer now." Riley's face showed surprise and some wariness.

"If you want a bed for tonight, I can arrange that," I said. "Remember the guy with the long blond hair that left his carry on with Max and me when we sat down?" Riley nodded. "He's an old fuck buddy of mine and has a room at the airport hotel. He's invited Max and me to spend the night. Stian has a hungry ass, likes dick and never gets enough of it. So it's gonna be a wild night.

"Your job will be to supply another stiff cock to service my buddy's ass. Take it from me, he's a hot bottom and has an incredible bubble butt. Even if you're a dedicated bottom, you're not going to mind that part of the assignment."

Riley's surprised face showed interest. Likely a top, from the way he reacted. "You gotta do more than just fuck a tight ass," I continued. "You gotta fuck like a dog in heat."

"That's guaranteed," the soldier answered dryly. "Two weeks at home in rural Texas sharing a room with my little brother. I couldn't even fucking beat off!"

"How big is your cock?" I asked.

"Seven and a quarter," Riley replied smoothly. It was information he had at his fingertips, like whether he was right handed or left handed. Most guys wouldn't have been so exact and would have hesitated before answering. Riley's quick response left me wondering. He had been through the size thing before, probably many times.

When I didn't react immediately and Riley realized he was up against something bigger in my jeans, he added, "And it's fat." The soldier boy wanted what I was offering and was trying to sell me. The fat part I had detected in the john. You never know if a guy is exaggerating his cock size, so I wasn't going to bank on the seven inches, but Riley's girth meant Stian wasn't going to be disappointed. Whether Riley would still be on board after I explained the second part of the gig remained to be seen.

"Getting your rocks off in a tight ass is only half of the job," I continued. "Beyond that, I'm going to ram my big black cock into your ass and fuck you into tomorrow. And you are going to be a good little soldier boy by taking whatever I dish out. Just like taking orders from your marine commanders, you're gonna do each and every thing I tell you to do, all without a single complaint or any whining. Think of tonight as a party for your cock and boot camp for your asshole. So, are you in or out?"

Riley's excited eyes conveyed his answer long before he licked his lips, looked me firmly in the eyes, and said, "Yes, sir. I'm in. You can count on me." The way he responded, I halfway expected him to salute me. I couldn't stop a faint grin from crossing my face.

Now to break the news to Stian. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, so I decided I wasn't going into detail other than to present Riley as another cock to service his holes. No reason to reveal my plan to plunder the soldier boy's ass.

Riley headed back to where Max was, and I waited for Stian as he finished at customer service. "Dude, small changes of plans," I said once Stian stepped away from the counter. Stian started to frown, but I clapped him on the shoulder and, smiling, added, "I think you'll be very happy with the development. See that marine sitting across from Max?"

Stian picked Max and Riley out of the crowd. The two guys were talking about something. Max was oddly animated, and knowing Max's typically closed-mouth demeanor, it had to be rock climbing. "Yeah," Stian nodded.

"He's available tonight," I said. "Very available."

I could tell Stian was wondering how and when I had made arrangements with the marine, but he commented, "Dude looks hot from here," he said.

"He looks hot from close up, too, take my word," I replied. "I took the liberty of recruiting him to supply another stiff cock for your holes tonight. Don't say I never did anything for you."

"I would never, ever say that," Stian said, chuckling and returning for a long look at Riley. "Dark hair, check. Vaguely ethnic, check. Nice muscular body, hard to tell in the fatigues, but looks promising. Final data point. Big cock?"

"If you mean bigger than mine, how stupid do you think I am?" I chuckled.

Stian laughed. "Nah, I mean big enough to loosen me up so that I'll be ready for you when you slam your black python into me," Stian said.

"No guarantees," I said, "but the limited evidence is positive."

Stian smiled. "You would never say something like that without being damn certain you're correct. That's one of the things I like about you. You don't take chances without knowing the odds are stacked in your favor." The Norwegian snowboarder looked amazing. His open smile was one of the reasons the cameras loved him and the snowboarding community embraced him. "Thanks for thinking of me, dude," he added, "I'm going to send thanks to Mother Nature for arranging this snowstorm."

As we headed out of the terminal and toward the hotel, I fell in beside Riley, thinking maybe I should find out more about him. "What was it like growing up gay in west Texas?" I asked.

"The shits," he replied. "I had my head up my ass as a kid. Deep down I knew I was gay but I couldn't admit it to myself, let alone my friends and family. So I overcompensated in the classic way. I was the captain of the football team – high school football is huge in Texas, even worse in west Texas – and I loved showing off my masculinity on the football field and being a jerk in school. I was the best quarterback on the football team, but my skin was a shade dark for my coaches and they liked my violent streak, so they made me a linebacker. Rumor in my family is that my grandfather was half black and half Apache, but he died when he was only 23, and I'm not even certain my grandmother really knew. Whether I got my color from him or from the mailman, I don't know, although my skin is darker than almost everyone in my family.

"Anyway, the football coaches knew I was the only guy on the team that could throw long. As soon as the defense started clamping down on us, they would put me in for trick plays to open things up. The blond butthead that was the starting quarterback couldn't throw more than 15 yards and he needed a tail wind to do that.

"In my junior year of high school, I targeted the biggest slut in the school and started dating her. I did it because everybody knew she talked about her conquests. That was the sole appeal to me. Guys wouldn't suspect I was gay if it was well known that I was fucking a chick. Plus, she would babble about how big my cock was. Sure enough, by halfway through my junior year, every kid in school knew I had a fat fuck stick.

"I loved strutting around in the locker room. You could count on me to be the first guy out of his jock strap and the last guy to get dressed. I put the younger guys on the team through hell, slapping their asses and snapping them with wet towels until they had welts on their butts.

"The tension I felt over my sexual orientation made me ready to snap, and it happened when I met my girlfriend one night the spring of my senior year. She and a couple of guys she hung with were laughing about how they lured a kid named Rusty into meeting them and then beat the crap out of him, solely because he was queer. Rusty was the known gay boy at my school, and I respected him because he had the courage to do what I couldn't. The more I heard my girlfriend and the two goons laughing about Rusty, the more it made me sick to my stomach. Out of the blue, I told my girlfriend we were breaking up. She was pissed as hell.

"I immediately drove over to Rusty's house and when I knocked on his door, he probably thought I was there to finish the job the other jerks had started. He had a black eye and it looked like he had been crying. I told him that I was sorry for what happened and wished I had been there to stop it. I had been responsible for a good deal of the harassment Rusty had endured over the years, so I'm sure he thought I was scamming him.

"I had never looked at Rusty that closely, and he suddenly looked adorable to me. He had reddish hair and stark blue eyes and a tight little body, and I wanted to take him in my arms and kiss him. On the spur of the moment, I asked him to go to the prom with me. Having just broken up with my girlfriend, I was suddenly free.

"Rusty laughed and said, `Since when do you want to date a gay boy, Riley?'

"Put on the spot, I came clean. I told Rusty I had always been gay but could never admit it, until now. Rusty wasn't buying it and he said, `Fine, Riley, if you're gay, then get on your knees and suck me off. If you give me a good blow job, maybe I'll go to the prom with you.'

"I was shocked and almost turned and ran, but I knew I would regret it if I did. So I got on my knees, pulled down Rusty's shorts and sucked my first cock. It grossed me out at first to think I had a sweaty piss pole in my mouth, but it wasn't long before I was digging it. And hornier than I had ever been when I fucked my girlfriend.

"Rusty was stunned that I was actually doing it. He thought he had called my bluff, and couldn't believe the captain of the football team was on his knees sucking dick. If Rusty had had his cell, he probably would have taken a picture of me with a cock stuffed in my mouth as proof.

"I wasn't good at sucking cock and my teeth brushed Rusty's dick a couple of times, but I did okay, because long before I wanted to stop sucking Rusty's dick, he shot. He growled at me, `I'm cumming, I'm cumming. Swallow it, cocksucker!' I was stunned that Rusty was calling me, of all people, a cocksucker. I had never really thought about a guy shooting in my mouth, and my first impulse was to spit Rusty's cum out. But I wanted to prove myself to the guy, so I clamped my mouth on his cock and sucked for all I was worth. Rusty literally flooded my mouth with spunk, to the point I was thought it was going to shoot out of my nose. But I managed to swallow every ounce of his cum.

"Rusty was barefoot, and he shoved his foot into my crotch and flicked my boner, which was tenting in my shorts like crazy. He said, I think you liked that, Riley. Maybe you're a fag after all. But I wanna hear you say it.' I had passed the point of denying it. I'm a faggot cocksucker,' I said, `and I just swallowed my first load of man cum.'

"By the time I left Rusty's house four hours later, I had sucked Rusty off three more times and he had returned the favor, although he couldn't get much of my cock down his throat. I was higher than a kite. I spent the next two months constantly begging Rusty to let me suck him off. He relented more often than not, and I spent two months digging red pubic hairs out of my mouth. I guess I was trying like hell to make up for lost time.

"Rusty and I went to the prom, but only after a big showdown at the school board about two boys attending together. Surprisingly, my football coach came out in favor of it, and because football is king in west Texas, that decided the issue.

"The last two months of high school was hell. Most of my friends reacted with horror and I endured the worst taunting and harassment you could imagine. My ex-girlfriend went out of her way to be a cunt. I couldn't wait to get out of Texas, and when I read that `don't ask, don't tell' was being repealed, I signed up for the marines. As embarrassed as my dad was to find out that his son was queer, he was happy that I was following in the family tradition and enlisting."

By the time Riley finished his story, Stian had checked into the hotel, making sure his room had two beds, and we headed up to occupy the place. We barely dropped our bags when Max, being the trooper that he was, practically ripped Stian's pants off and nuzzled into the snowboarder's ass, beginning to rim him. Based on Stian's earlier outline, Max had a clear picture of what his role was. I was surprised to see Max take charge in that way, but maybe he had figured out in Chicago that whoring required knowing what your trick wants and how to deliver it. Max had met Stian what, an hour ago? But he had the Norwegian stud down to a `T'.

"Oh, yeah," Stian moaned, "suck that ass. Get me good and wet because I need a hard cock."

Riley knew what was coming, too, but he stood staring at Stian's bare bubble butt and Max's blond head buried in it. Maybe Riley hadn't expected sex to explode quite so quickly, or maybe he was enthralled by the sight of Max rimming Stian's ass crack.

"Soldier," I said, snapping Riley out his trance. He looked at me and I pointed to the floor in front of where I stood. Riley licked his lips, dropped to his knees and began to fish my cock from my jeans. I wondered if Riley was reliving his first blow job with Rusty.

Riley eased my cock out, staring for a moment in disbelief at its size. He seemed to be memorizing the moment. The marine didn't hesitate to start licking my shaft and working the head of my cock into his mouth. He concentrated intently on taking inch after inch of my dick down his throat.

From Riley's story about coming out, I knew my big black cock was not the first dick the soldier boy had sucked, and he clearly had developed skills. He knew how to suck cock. Maybe he regularly sucked off his fellow marines, although from what I knew of barracks' life, that seemed unlikely.

Wherever his expertise was honed, I was the happy beneficiary of it. I moaned slightly as the soldier completely swallowed my cock, his nose crushing my pubes. More out of habit than anything else, I put my hands around Riley's short, buzz cut hair and moved his head back and forth. I needn't have bothered, because the soldier boy was doing fine on his own without my guidance.

Stian and Max shed their clothes and Stian busily slurped on Max's stiff cock as Max continued to eat out Stian's ass. Stian was very good with his mouth, but he sucked cock only as a means to an end. He mouthed a dick long enough to get it rock hard and not a minute longer. The Norwegian was desperate to get fucked and reluctant to spend a moment more than necessary without his ass being filled with cock.

Six months of practicing law had done no harm to Stian's body, and if anything the power bottom's bubble butt looked better than ever. He crawled on the bed, doggy-style, and growled, "Fuck my ass. Drill me!" Max pointed his stiff cock at Stian's crack and powered in, causing Stian to gasp, then groan, and then moan happily. Max wasn't going to go easy on the blond bottom, because he quickly was subjecting Stian to a fast and furious fuck.

I knew Stian well enough to know he wanted a stiff cock in his mouth as well as his butt. He loved threesomes because he could get dicked from both ends. The only question was whether to fill his mouth with my cock or with Riley's mystery meat. Might as well find out what the marine was packing, I thought. "Get you cock down the slut's throat," I said, pulling Riley off my dick.

The soldier looked disappointed as he released by spit-coated shaft, but he got to his feet and began to strip. His eyes lit up as he saw Max's lean body slamming into Stian's bubble butt. Stian's long blond hair jumped with each thrust of Max's fuck tool.

As Riley pulled off his fatigues, it was my turn to stare. The marine had the hot, ripped body I had come to expect from rock climbers, with a pumped chest, hard abs, muscular thighs and broad shoulders connected to big guns. And those big hands and strong forearms. His minimal body fat caused his veins to pop out, covering his arms and even his flat stomach below his belly button.

Between the six college rock climbers that lived in the old gas station below my room and the hazing frat boy Trent, who climbed as well, I had dicked seven rock climbers since the beginning of September. I wondered about the odds of fucking an eighth climber. Long odds, I thought, but I had grown to appreciate climbers' lean, rock hard bodies, and the gray wolf was intent on nailing the soldier.

Beyond Riley's body, what caught my eye were his amazing tattoos. Looking at his tats, you could almost overlook Riley's stud body. Tattoos were common among marines, but Riley had taken it to a new level.

He sported a massive span of inked wings on his shoulders and upper back, not dissimilar to the tats that covered the shoulders and back of Koichi, the Asian power bottom I had fucked on the ski slopes in Montana. On his chest Riley had a stylized eagle, its wings spread wide and making the soldier's shoulders look even broader than they were. But the stunner tattoos started on Riley's shoulders, looped around his armpits and down his sides, and then split toward both his ass crack and the base of his cock. The mirror image tattoos essentially framed Riley's torso with swirling and swooping tribal designs, all sharp curves and arched knife points. I couldn't tell if the abstract designs were identical or not, and it probably would have taken hours of studying Riley's body to know for sure. I had a feeling the artist – and whoever tatted Riley was clearly an artist – left subtle differences to be discovered by Riley's sex partners.

The tattoos met in the small of Riley's back and plunged into his ass crack. How far they went was a mystery I planned to discover in due time. On Riley's front, the tats circled the base of his cock and balls. The marine completely shaved his pubes, making the tattoos more noticeable. From the swirling ink tats emerged a fat, thick cock, cut and glistening with pre-cum.

Riley hadn't under-delivered on his promise of seven inches, although it was possible Max was slightly bigger. Well, not bigger, but longer. Riley's dick was twice the thickness of Max's. I decided that, at least once tonight, Riley was going to take the Dillinger dick on his back, because I wanted to see Riley's heavy soldier meat flop on his abs while I reamed his ass.

Riley crawled on the bed in front of Stian, and the blond snowboarder wasted no time in going down on Riley's prick. If the Norwegian had trouble with Riley's girth, he didn't show it. Stian timed his dives on Riley's dick to match Max's thrusts into Stian's bubble butt.

Max understood the game plan at this stage was to seed Stian's ass as quickly as possible so another cock could fill the Norwegian's hole. The blond rock climber did his job, climaxing after drilling Stian for no more than 10 or 15 minutes. Max relinquished Stian's ass to me, and I marveled that once again I was following Max into a sloppy, cum filled hole. It was becoming a pattern; first Ronny's black flight-attendant hole in Chicago, then Johnny's southern boy pussy in the Wrigley Field locker room, and now Stian's marvelous ass during a Denver snowstorm. I was damn happy with the pattern.

I swirled the head of my cock around the entrance to Stian's used fuck chute, circling my target a couple of times. Then I jammed the head of my dick inside Stian, causing a muffled groan to escape from the power bottom's cock-filled mouth. Gripping his narrow hips, I reared back and slammed into Stian's hole, splitting his crack with my thick black pole. Stian forgot about Riley's fat fuck stick and yelled, "Oh, God, fuck my ass! Pound it!" My cock deep-fucked Max's thick cum into Stian's butt.

Riley wasn't letting Stian off the hook, and he grabbed Stian's long blond hair and rammed his rigid cock down Stian's stretched throat. Neither Riley nor my skin was particularly dark, but juxtaposed against Stian's Scandinavian paleness, we gave some semblance of an Oreo split roast. Riley bent forward and pulled me into a kiss, begging my tongue to rape his mouth.

Rather than drawing out my fuck, I figured the sooner I climaxed the sooner I'd be in round two, so I powered forward, beginning to ram the blond boarder with fast, punishing thrusts. He bucked like he always had, his body begging to be used, his hole demanding my jism. My nut began to build and I brought it along slowly, ready to seed Stian but wanting to enjoy my first foray into his sweet ass in seven months. I edged closer and closer, holding off as long as I could, and then delivered a power shot of cum deep into Stian's Nordic hole.

Stian probably expected me to pause for a few minutes and then ride him again. That was my modus operandi and I had fucked Stian often enough during two years of college that it had become routine for both of us. As much as I wanted to do exactly that, I figured I owed it to Stian to let him sample Riley's fat soldier cock. If Riley was right about having had not sex for weeks, his cum shot might juice Stian's hole enough to last the entire night. I wanted my next journey into Stian's ass to be greeted by a sloppy, cummy mess.

I pulled out and Riley, looking crazed, spun Stian around and rammed his cock into Stian's cum drenched fuck chute. "Oh, yeah," Stian moaned, "Ride that ass. Fuck it! Fuck my brains out."

Max, ever attentive, was on my cock as soon as I pulled out of Stian's ass, swallowing my dick and coaxing the last drop of cum from my black rod. Max continued to work on me long after he had licked every drop of his and my commingled cum from my shaft.

Riley was demonstrably horny, because his maiden tour into Stian's ass was short lived. The marine grabbed Stian's narrow hips and slam fucked him for five, maybe seven minutes, and with an anguished cry he blasted his load inside Stian's fuck tunnel.

Riley collapsed on Stian, only pulling out after several minutes passed. Once the marine had extricated his thick pole from Stian's hole, Stian rolled over on his back. His cock was rock hard and he said with a lusty smile, "Not bad for an appetizer, boys. Not bad at all. Makes me look forward to the main course." He gave his cock a couple of perfunctory strokes but made no effort to continue.

Max glanced at me with a questioning look and started toward Stian's cock, intending to bring the boarder off, but I caught his arm and shook my head. Stian had a bizarre cock. He could hold out for hours, his cock rock hard and dripping pre-cum, but once he climaxed the first time, he couldn't control his dick, and it would shoot constantly. Last spring, Stian and I took a beach trip to Provincetown during a gap between the end of classes and graduation, and the first night, I fucked him half a dozen times before he let himself cum, and then watched him catch up to me by cumming repeatedly as I balled him the seventh time. Once the floodgates opened, the Norwegian dreamboat barely needed to touch himself to bring himself off. His prick was a like a faucet that couldn't be shut off.

Stian announced he was starved and ordered room service. In deference to whoever would deliver the order, we pulled our clothes back on, at least mostly – Stian and I were still shirtless when the young waiter showed up with the food. From the waiter's wide-eyed stare, I think he would have preferred that we were still naked, and I got the impression that he would have eagerly taken us up on an offer to make it a five-some. The smell of fresh cum that hung in the room might have tipped him off to what had – and would – happen. If he had been older than 18 or 19, I might have considered making the offer. But there was no reason to tinker with success, and the odds were that he wouldn't have the big prick Stian craved.

We downed dinner and Max carted the trays into the hallway to ensure that room service wouldn't interrupt us. Stian put me in the middle on one of the beds between Riley and Max and he went down on us, slurping from cock to cock as we kissed each other. Max's dick was the first one to get rock hard, and Stian, never one to delay, planted his ass on Max's rod. The Norwegian had a look of bliss on his face as he slowly impaled his ass on Max's rod. Stian's cock was hard and dripping pre-cum as he began to move up and down, riding Max with enthusiasm. The boarder's cock bounced against Max's amazing, hard abs.

Riley took over Stian's job of sucking my cock and the soldier kept making comments about the size of my cock and how he loved deep throating it. I was still in awe over his tats. In addition to the big, showy tats, Riley had a series of smaller ones that were as artful and well done as his big tattoos. I was curious about the background of Riley's inkwork.

Stian decided he wanted to get fucked rather than ride Max's cock, so he got on all fours again, with Max behind him. Max dicked the boarder's ass and Stian leaned forward and began to suck Riley's semi-hard chubby as the soldier continued to mouth me.

I pulled Riley off my cock, contemplating when my opportunity to butt fuck the marine's hard ass would present itself. The soldier, apparently still wanting a cock in his mouth, took the other available dick, rotating so that he and Stian were 69ing as Max continued to pound Stian's ass.

My opportunity to nail the soldier boy was staring me in the face. I lubed up my cock and hoisted Riley's muscular legs into the air, exposing his pink pucker and answering the question of how far the tribal tattoos ran down the marine's ass. All the way. Riley's hole was completely surrounded by ink swirls and in between Riley's ass and balls, the tats met up with the ones surrounding Riley's cock.

My cock circled the entrance to Riley's hole and I began to press inside him. As I forced past his sphincter, Riley gave a guttural groan and I could tell, based on how tight his ass was, that he hadn't been fucked very often. I had to pull out and start over three or four times before I was able to finally sink my shaft all the way inside the Texas soldier. For Riley, it was probably a good thing that Stian was busily swallowing his fat pole, keeping him horny throughout my assault on the tatted marine's ass.

I wasn't able to get into any kind of a good fucking motion with Stian's surfer-blond head servicing Riley's cock, but Stian came up for air and I pulled him into a deep kiss. I wrapped my arms around Riley's ankles and Stian's head, ramming my tongue into Stian's hungry mouth and my cock into Riley's helpless hole.

With Max's cock flying in and out of Stian's hole, Riley's throat wrapped around the Norwegian's cock, and my tongue raping his mouth, Stian was getting well serviced. I wondered if the Norwegian fuck stud was going to be able to hold off cumming. I knew from experience that Riley was a helluva good cocksucker, and Max seemed to be keeping Stian's ass happy as he repeatedly plunged his seven inches into the boarder. Only time would tell, but I suspected Stian wasn't even close to blowing.

Riley's tight ass was worth the effort, and I slammed my cock into the soldier boy and kept his legs hoisted high so his ass was positioned perfectly for my fuck pole. I had the feeling that Stian and I could have gone on indefinitely the way we were. But Max hadn't developed the control Stian and I had, and before long the kid's breathing and his glassy eyes betrayed his losing battle to keep from cumming. All at once he gasped, powered his cock inside Stian one last time and panted as he blew his second load in the blond Norwegian.

Stian waited until Max's cock began to soften, then whispered to me, "You're gonna double fuck me, stud. I want to the two thickest cocks in America in my hole at the same time. After that, soldier boy's ass is yours, and you can ride him until the fucker can't walk. But first your job is to split my ass open." I wasn't going to refuse the offer.

The boarder promptly went after Riley's fat prick. Stian turned around, facing Riley, and quickly slid Riley's cock inside his hole. Stian gave an appreciative moan and began to slowly ride the soldier. It was not long before Stian bent forward, kissing the Texan and pulling off Riley's cock just enough to let me know he was ready.

I wondered about the odds of two double fucks in less than a week. With my big black cock, I wasn't the obvious choice to double fuck anyone, but then Johnny and Stian were far from ordinary bottoms. My cock was still buried in Riley's hole, although with Stian riding the soldier, I was sorely limited in how much I could pound the marine's ass. Timing my move carefully, I pulled out of Riley, dropped his legs, and just as Stian lowered his ass on Riley's cock, I rammed forward, not certain my cock would even get inside Stian's hole, much less penetrate him all the way.

I powered inside Stian so fast that his ass didn't have time to react and my dick was buried in him before his muscles instinctively tried to expel me. The Norwegian gasped and gave a strangled moan, saying, "Oh my God! Don't stop! Fuck me, drill me, pound me!" I leaned forward on Stian's back, seeing a shocked look on Riley's face. In that position, I was able to get into something of a fucking motion, driving my python into the snowboarder as Riley's fat cock filled his hole.

It wasn't destined to be a long double fuck. Riley had been close merely from getting his ass plundered by my cock and having Stian's dick crammed down his throat. Riley had almost climaxed when Stian sucked soldier's cock into his ass, and when I consummated the double-fuck, the Texas boy couldn't hold out. Within a couple of minutes, I felt Stian's ass get much wetter and sloppier than it had been, which was saying something. Riley let out a gurgling moan as he blasted his load inside the boarder.

I continued to pound Stian's ass as the blond hunk begged me to fuck his lights out. Riley's cock softened and slipped from Stian's hole, but the soldier was trapped beneath us as I worked Stian's familiar ass. The arrangement was good for me, because Stian's body was on top of Riley and thus a foot off the bed, which meant Stian's ass was in the perfect position for me to pillage it. And by now, his hole was juiced with five loads, including the mammoth one that the sex-starved Riley had generated the first time. I had forgotten how good Stian's hole was, and it was rare to get an opportunity to fuck it when it was used and sloppy.

I railed on Stian's ass for a long time, feeling myself get close and slowing down, then speeding up again. I let my nut build, held it for a long time, and finally released it into the boarder bottom's hole. "Oh, God, yeah," Stian moaned. "Seed me. Breed my ass!"

My balls barely stopped pumping cum when I was ready to go again. My ability to fuck back-to-back without getting soft was on full display. I contemplated drilling Stian again, but Max had been out of the action for a spell, and after getting opened by the double fuck, Stian might want something smaller than my big bull cock. Plus, as good as Stian's juiced hole had been, I wanted to attend to a major piece of unfinished business.

I pulled out of Stian and he rolled off Riley, leaving the tatted soldier underneath me. I never hesitated, hoisting Riley's legs onto my shoulders and using four fingers to clamp open his ass. I wasn't going to endure another struggle to sink my dick into the marine. With Riley's pussy stretched wide, I rammed my still-rigid dick into him.

The Texas boy had a stunned look on his face and he let out an anguished gasp. His eyes betrayed fear and surprise, and, at the same time, deep desire. Soldier boy wanted to get bred by a big black cock, and he was about to get his wish.

I was vaguely aware that Stian and Max were going at it again. Stian was on his back, his long legs wrapped around Max's hips, and Max was delivering yet another fuck to the Norwegian's hole. Stian's long blond hair was arrayed on a pillow and he and Max were sucking face as Max's ass cheeks flexed every time he thrust into Stian. My blond boi whore had a mighty fine bubble butt, and while it was unlikely I would use it tonight, as soon as we got back to Montana, I was planning to spend a night with my cock buried inside the jock rock climber.

But for the time being, I was happy to have my black cobra rutting inside an incredibly hot and hunky marine ass. Riley's hole was like a vice, and I actually had to pull out and recoat my cock with lube. However, that gave me the opportunity to enter him the way he was made to be entered. I rocked his body upward, putting his knees on either side of his head and pointing his pink, puckered hole, wet with lube, toward the ceiling. I guided the head of my cock into Riley's hole, and then, with a brutal thrust, impaled him. The soldier's eyes fluttered, but I could tell I had tamed him. Gone was the fear and surprise in his eyes I had seen before. All that remained was desire and lust. The gray wolf had yet another kill.

Almost in unison, Stian and Riley moaned, "Fuck my ass!" After cumming in Stian's hole, Riley's cock had revived and was rock hard, and a thin trail of pre-cum and leftover cum was collecting on the soldier's hard abs. Each time I rammed into Riley's pussy, his chest moved just enough to make his eagle tat flutter. It wasn't as spectacular as the way the big tattoo on Koichi's back had jumped when I fucked the Japanese bottom boy, but it was cool in its own way.

I was getting close to cumming and ramped up my pace, furiously fucking the hunky marine who had surrendered to my black fuck pole. "Oh, God, yeah," Riley moaned. "Seed me, mark me as your fuck toy!" I rammed the soldier with four or five quick thrusts and felt my balls release, my cum draining into Riley's tight hole.

Max's balls released not long after mine, seeding Stian yet again. I had been balling for a good hour without a break, and I could sense that Max and Riley were flagging, but I knew Stian was just getting started. The Norwegian slut pig still hadn't cum.

I suggested we take a break and Stian ordered a bottle of whiskey from room service. Max had the good sense to slip into his clothes and meet the waiter at the door, avoiding the problem of the waiter finding four naked men in a room reeking of cum. I wondered if the same kid that had delivered our meals would bring the whiskey and ice.

Along with the whiskey, room service sent a couple of bowls of nuts that we devoured. Fucking can make you damn hungry.

Stian, sipping whiskey, asked Riley, "So, dude, is there a lot of fucking in the barracks? Bunch of young, horny studs living together sounds like a nice recipe to me." Knowing Stian, the blond bottom was wondering what it would be like to be drilled by a line a marines every night.

"Not that much," Riley admitted. "Marines are too hung up."

"What do you do for sex?" Stian asked.

"Porn," Riley said.

"Dude, doesn't watching porn get old?" Stian asked.

"Oh, I don't watch that much porn," Riley replied matter-of-factly. "I meant performing. Nothing better than having a guaranteed fuck with a hot guy and getting paid to do it."

We stared at the tatted marine and Riley felt the need to explain. "There are a bunch of porn studios in San Diego, and it isn't that far to LA, either. Even Vegas is doable for a long weekend.

"When I enlisted in the marines I made no secret of being gay," Riley continued. "I was done being the closet. Being out attracted the interest of my Sergeant, who had done a ton of gay porn and was basically a recruiter for a porn studio in San Diego that does military guys. Less than a month after I got settled, Sarg signed me and a buddy up. With zero privacy in the barracks, sex was hard to come by, and I figured that knowing I was going to get my rocks off once a week with a hot guy was too good of a deal to pass up.

"I don't think the buddy I signed up thought he was going to bottom, but when the studio saw my cock, I was forever cast as a top, and that left my buddy as the bottom. He got paid extra for it. My buddy and I were hornier than hell and we filmed three scenes in one afternoon, but I don't think my buddy enjoyed bottoming, at least when my fat cock was drilling his ass. I sure as hell enjoyed it.

"I filmed a good 15 or 20 times with the studio, but once you've had almost all the other porn stars, it's time to move on. I worked with a twink studio and some college and muscle studios after that. The twink studio did a release with me in every scene. The plot was me coming home on military leave and fucking five dudes that were supposed to be my little brother and his twinky friends. It was called `Welcumming the Troops Home' and was a big seller. A fat cock looks even bigger when it's going into a skinny twink's ass."

Stian pumped Riley for more details about being a porn star. Other than guaranteed sex, the reality of porn seemed saddled with plenty of headaches.

Before the bottle of whiskey had disappeared, Stian pulled Riley on top of him and soon Max and I were watching the tatted, caramel-skinned soldier fucking the pale blond boarder. Max would have loved for me to fuck him, and he snuggled up to me in an effort to see if it might happen, but I was already feeling guilty that I had pumped a load of cum into Riley's ass rather than saving it for Stian.

After Riley nutted, Max and I did Stian together, dishing out the Norwegian's second double fuck of the night. After holding off all night, Stian either decided to let loose or lost control. As soon as I jammed my rigid fuck pole into his ass, feeling Max's stiff cock next to mine, Stian's cock exploded like a Champagne bottle. In no time, Max's tight abs were coated with thick Scandinavian spunk.

With the dam having burst, Stian climaxed every five or ten minutes. He must have blown four or five loads by the time Max came. I took over and applied the final fuck to Stian's hole, drilling the snowboarder hard enough to give him something to remember until our next rendezvous. I'm pretty sure the final cum explosion from Stian's cock was hands free, as he moaned, "Harder, harder, harder, fuck my ass!" With a last thrust, I seeded the Norwegian's ass as he clenched his hole around my fuck pole. Cum and sweat covered and exhausted, we fell into a heap. Riley was already asleep on the other bed.

I woke a couple of hours later and slipped over to Riley's bed. As much as I liked being in bed with Max and Stian separately, sharing a bed with both of them, even a king sized bed, was not comfortable. My arrival in Riley's bed did not go unnoticed by the tatted marine. He backed up against me, rubbing his bubble butt against my cock, and whispered, "Fuck my ass. It's sore as hell, but I never been bred as deep as you fucked me. I want your cock one more time." I had been contemplating claiming his ass again anyway, so I fisted my cock into a hard on and worked my dick into the hunky marine's tight hole. "Oh, God, fuck yeah," Riley moaned. "Drill me, drill me."

I settled into a long fuck, both of us on our sides. After a while, I draped a leg over Riley's thighs to get better leverage, and I was able to force my black rod farther inside his ass. That caused a strangled moan from the soldier, and he said, "Oh, God, yes, fuck my ass!"

Riley was still moving too much when I thrust into his defenseless hole, so I reached around with my hand and gripped his thick cock, holding him still as I ground my dick into his fuck chute. Riley's rod was so wet that I wondered if he had already cum. Maybe he was just gushing pre-cum as I railed on his hole.

I felt my balls churning and quickened my pace, eliciting another happy moan from the soldier boy whose ass I was spoiling, ensuring it would never again be as tight as it had been before tonight. We were loud enough that I thought Stian and Max would wake up, but if they were awake, they were keeping still. That wouldn't be like Stian, but it might well be the case with Max.

My balls discharged as I rammed my cock inside Riley one last time. The Texas marine apparently wasn't satisfied with the work I had been doing on his cock. His hand closed over mine and he pumped his shaft rapidly, resulting in a quick climax. "Oh, fuck," Riley groaned as he panted and shot spunk on the sheets. "Leave your cock inside me. God, I've never been filled by anything like it."

We fell asleep and the next thing I remember Riley was bending down to kiss me. "My cell number is on a slip of paper with your phone," he said. "My ass is gonna be open for your cock whenever you want. And if you wanna do porn work, I can absolutely guarantee you'd be a star. I've only topped in porn, but with you I'd bottom in a second. Think about it." The soldier had already showered and dressed and was headed out because his rescheduled flight to San Diego was leaving early. "Tell Stian thanks for me. Fucking incredible night!"

It was still dark, but I needed to check on the Montana flight. The airline website showed it was on time, although still a few hours off. With my usual early rise from bed, I was wide awake by then, and I slipped into the shower.

I wasn't in the shower for long before Stian joined me, insisting that I pound his hot Norwegian ass one more time. "I know you were taking it easy on me last night, but I won't break," he said with his trademark grin. "Now it's just the two of us, and you can deep seed me, really ram my ass." I couldn't help but smile as Stian went down on me, his long blond hair plastered to his head and dripping with water. As intently focused on getting his ass pounded as the he was, I knew in Aspen he would be just as intently focused on snowboarding and I was certain he brought the same intensity to practicing law and whatever else he did. Stian had only one speed. Full on.

It wasn't the best fuck I had had recently, because standing in the bathtub shower created the ever-present risk of our feet slipping out from under us, but I juiced Stian's hole one last time. After we got out of the shower, Stian gave a hungry stare at Max, but I told the rock jock that we needed to head for the terminal to make sure we got on our plane.

Max was characteristically quiet on the flight out of Denver. "You okay?" I asked as we began our descent toward the landing in a snowy Montana. Max gave me a smile and his ice blue eyes sparkled. "Yeah," he answered, "you and your friends know how to turn a miserable night in an airplane terminal into a wild, hot party."

I was never sure how to read the taciturn blond, but for some reason it gave me a good feeling that Max was onboard with what had gone down. I nodded, and Max continued, saying, "I'm ready to travel with you wherever you want." I was slightly annoyed by his comment, but I also realized that travelling with Max had been great and I'd do it again in a moment.

Part Two

January wasn't my favorite time of the year in western Montana. The sun was low in the sky, the weather uninviting, and with the holidays over, I had to return to the monumental task of pushing my thesis forward. My bicycle hadn't been outdoors since October, and, lonesome and gathering dust, it was now hanging from the big wooden beams that graced the ceiling of my room. The one saving grace of January in Montana was the opportunity for an occasional day of snowboarding. Getting some fresh air and slicing down snowy mountainsides partially made up for days of being cooped up.

The sky was pitch black at 6:00 a.m. when I arrived at the gym to work out every morning, pitch black when I left the gym to head to my office, and pitch black at the end of the day when I wandered back to the repurposed gas station that housed the college rock climbers below me. Without long days of passive solar gain, the gas station wasn't as stiflingly hot as it had been during the fall, but even that was a negative. Half the time, the rock jocks wore T-shirts when they scaled the indoor climbing wall they had installed. Not that their ripped arms and legs weren't pleasant enough to gaze at, but it wasn't the same without being able to see their straining back muscles, pumped chests and carved abs.

Part of my post-holiday letdown, I confess, was that I had accomplished my goal of fucking all six of the lean, ripped climbers. I admit to being goal-oriented, and I had expected the project to take all year, with no assurance of accomplishing it. But in only four months, the tight asses of the six college boys had each hosted my big black cock: Jesse, the auburn-haired dance-boy with the amazing hard ass; Sancho, the shaggy blond surfer-boy look-alike with the liquid muscles; Travis, the stoned partier with the perfect body; Alex, the impish prankster with the lean, tatted torso; Damian, the long-haired skateboarder with the tight, fuckable ass; and Max, my ripped, blond rent boy with the amazing abs.

Along the way, my cock had detoured into the asses of four older men, always my sweet spot: Jake Westbrooke, the classic Montana Marlboro man; Akili Brooks, the pro football legend and so-to-be head football coach; Kent Dornnen, the reigning sexiest professor on campus; and Toshi, my tall, ageless, Japanese hookup from before Christmas. Aside from the six rock jocks, a few other college studs had fallen my way as well: the skinny twink Kyle; his muscular boyfriend Donny and furry model friend Jack; frat boy Trent, who liked hazing pledges but liked getting his ass spanked and used more; straight-boy Shane, my New York companion; kinky, Scottish exchange student Jim; and Asian power-bottom college boy, Koichi. Moving to Westcliffe four months ago, I worried about keeping my cock happy. Looking back, I wondered when I had time to do anything but fuck. Not that I was complaining.

After our return from Chicago, Max had nowhere to go before classes started, so he stayed at Westcliffe, doing an incredible job of being around when I wanted him and disappearing when I didn't want to see him. With only Max and Kent in town to service my big black cock, and Kent restricted to once-a-month duty, Max had cheerfully borne the brunt of milking my balls. In fact, he had performed more than cheerfully. The ripped blond fuck stud gave every indication of being addicted to my cock.

Despite having been completely cut off by his parents, Max was doing well on his own. I pulled some strings to get him a scholarship for spring semester, even though he no longer needed the money after our trip to Chicago and his steady flow of rent-boy cash. Max had his regular clients, and because visitors didn't have many entertainment options in the small college town surrounding Westcliffe, he got a small stream of bookings on the web app. A few men even detoured through Montana to spend a night with him. He had enough travel requests through the app that he could have spent his weekends flying around the country and fucking for money, but Max stuck to running, rock climbing and studying. Left to his own devices, he wasn't a great rent boy. But he was a damn good boi whore when I was calling the shots.

The chastity cage thing never worked for Max. The problem was that his cock was too much in demand from clients, so every three or four days, a week max, I had to free his junk so he could perform. I finally shelved the cage, but I didn't throw it away. Perhaps I would dust it off down the road and put Max to the test I had thought about. I got the impression Max would just as soon have been locked in the damn thing, as long as I had the keys.

With the en masse return of Westcliffe's students at the end of their extended holiday break, life on campus returned to normal. I was back teaching seminars with a new flock of often-bored, occasionally-animated college students. While my conquest of the college rock climbers was in the rear view mirror, I found myself intrigued by a range of men, some of whom had hosted my big black cock before and some I had yet to hunt down.

Trent, the hazing frat boy, was in one of my spring seminars, and the college stud was starting off on model behavior. I had little doubt he would find an excuse to visit my office to discuss the seminar, probably when he knew the rest of the building would be deserted. That would raise a delicate problem. I was technically his teacher and while I had spent a semester balling a parade of students, none had been in my seminars. In my mind doing Trent would cross the line. I might have to put him off until the end of the semester.

Jack, the furry model who was the fourth with Kyle and Donny at the mountain hut, turned out to be a grad student. That confirmed what I thought the first time I sampled his ass, that he looked older than most of the kids on campus. He and I were assigned to help a rookie professor teaching an oversized freshman class, and on the first day of class, Jack greeted me like we were lifelong friends. It was only a matter of time until Jack would suggest conferring with me privately about the class and I would appropriate his hairy hole.

Jesse was back to doing splits while my cock was impaled in his awesome dancer-ass, and Travis had returned to campus with enough dope to get the entire University high. The question wasn't if Travis would get stoned and desperate to get a stiff cock in his ass, but when. When Travis hit that stage, in his mind, it was bigger, the better. Which was where I came in. Hovering in the background was my idea that Max and I might double fuck both Jesse and Travis, or at least tag team them so that their boi holes would be sloppy and juiced for my cock.

Gray wolves hunt more-or-less continuously. For larger prey, wolves' hunting behavior often relies on the chase. Wolves are disinclined to attack an animal that stands its ground. Instead, wolves cause the prey to run, and once the chase is on, the wolf pack will bring down larger prey by chasing them to exhaustion.

That pattern didn't completely fit me. Despite four of the rock jocks being straight, I generally wasn't interested in chasing straight men. Too much trouble; the end product was seldom worth it and the aftermath was occasionally messy and melodramatic. Not that I had a hard and fast rule about straight men, and over the years I had butt fucked a good score of men that preferred a woman's cunt. But for the time being my new prey gave indications they might not be totally straight. Like a wolf, I was a patient and persistent hunter.

My landlord, Dontrell, had a son that was a year or two older than me, and I enjoyed his company – we were among the token 20-something black men in town. We often went out for a beer after our pickup basketball games. He shared the perspective of many young blacks that taking it up the ass wasn't masculine, but I sensed he was curious. Curious enough that I put my odds of nailing him well above 50-50.

Two of Akili Brooks' cornerbacks registered on my gaydar as well. One kid, a black stud from St. Louis, I had spotted as far back as the day of the Bikinis and Goggles race at the end of the summer. I ran into him in the gym or on campus periodically during the fall. Being two of the few black men on campus, we shared a natural bond. Dontrell's son might require a long, patient pursuit, but I was certain I could go for a quick kill of the football hunk whenever I wanted.

The other cornerback was a white boy from California. He might need more coaxing, but the kid watched his black teammates with what I recognized as barely contained lust, and I knew he wanted dick, preferably black, even if the boy hadn't admitted that to himself yet. My biggest risk with the two cornerbacks was that they would hook up together before I could nail them separately.

The target I was most intrigued by, however, was a man in his 30s, right out of Brokeback Mountain. Slade lived alone on a ranch north of town, on the opposite side of the valley from Jake Westbrooke's big spread. The tall cowboy had dirty blond hair, and his perpetually sun-tanned face had a rugged look. He was at home in worn jeans and scuffed cowboy boots. If Jake Westbrooke resembled Jake Gyllenhaal, Slade could pass for Heath Ledger, completing the Brokeback Mountain analogy.

The people in town referred to Slade as a confirmed bachelor. To them, the old-fashioned term was reserved for masculine men that couldn't possibly be gay and merely hadn't found the right woman yet. The term was a compliment. To me, it alerted my gaydar.

Slade moonlighted as a part time security officer for the university, working weekends when the university's regular security officers were off. Five days on his ranch and two at the university essentially meant Slade was all work and no play. I resolved to change that. I suspected Slade had likely never had a big black cock, maybe not any cock, but in my mind, by the end of the semester he would. With the rock climbers in the rear view mirror, I enjoyed setting another goal.

The January doldrums were broken at the end of the month when Westcliffe hosted a lacrosse tournament. It was an annual event, with teams from throughout the northwest and mountain states. The school had to bulldoze snow off the outdoor fields, but I gathered that wasn't an unusual problem for a lacrosse tournament in Montana in January. The tournament was part of the University's annual winter carnival, mostly an excuse for the college kids to drink, party, get stoned and fuck. Exactly what they would have been doing on any winter weekend, but the winter carnival made it more festive, more no-holds-barred. Spring semester exams were too far in the future to concern the partying college students.

I agreed to help staff the tournament, and was responsible for working the sidelines, keeping drunk students off the field and generally watching for problems. The silver lining was getting to see the lacrosse boys close up. Who can complain about seeing an array of muscular men in shorts and T-shirts during the dead of winter?

Slade was working the final matches on Saturday, and I had plenty of time to chat with him and get to know him. And plenty of time to subtly scope him out, planning my long range assault on his muscular ass. At first, he was somewhat reserved and stand-offish, but he slowly warmed up and by the end of the day he was smiling, relaxed and friendly. It would take a while, but I would eventually bring the cowboy to hunger for the sensations of my cock breeding his hole.

Max got a curious inquiry on the web app shortly before the tournament. Apparently the gay men on the various lacrosse teams knew one another, and when they played out-of-town tournaments, they went together to hire trade to entertain the group after the final match. They were thrilled to find a guy as hot as Max at Westcliffe, forestalling the need to import a rent boy. The annual tournament stop at Westcliffe had been a rent boy desert until Max's appearance, not surprising given the town's size. The other tournament hosts were places like Denver, Seattle, and San Francisco, which had ample supplies of available hustlers. Even Salt Lake City had plenty of boi whore options.

I was surprised when the inquiry came in, asking, among other things, how many guys Max would be willing to service. Not the usual question that surfaced on the web app, but I replied, saying Max was open to however many they wanted. I assumed the question came from a couple or perhaps a threesome. When the response referenced ten lacrosse players, I read it several times, thinking it must be a hoax. But after the payment showed up – ten times Max's normal rate – I realized it was legit.

The final lacrosse game of the tournament, the championship, finished at 6:00 p.m. on Saturday and Max was supposed to appear at 7:00 at a private house the guys had rented in the foothills north of town. The house was in the same expensive, gated community as Akili Brooks' mountain mansion, and I guessed the gay lacrosse boys were all staying at the house, because the place had seven bedrooms, including a bunk room. Max was hired until midnight, so the math meant that Max might be doing a guy every thirty minutes for five hours. That assumed nobody went for seconds, an unlikely assumption given that the lacrosse players were all college-aged or in their 20s, early 30s at most.

Max was his usual businesslike, taciturn self before the appointment, downloading directions to the house and dropping his old, too-small jock strap into his backpack before slithering into the same outfit I dressed him in for the flight back from Chicago – the tight, ripped jeans that highlighted his junk and the loose muscle shirt with the deep-dropped armholes that exposed his awesome abs and arms. He tossed two boxes of condoms into the backpack, enough lube to coat a hundred cocks, and a handful of sex toys, then cheerily smiled and was on his way. I told Max to contact me if a problem arose, and instructed him to text me when he was finished. He knew I wanted the details.

Shortly before midnight, Max's first text arrived. Xtra hour. Paid via web.' Apparently the blond rock jock was popular with the lacrosse crowd. An hour later, he texted, Leaving. 6 top, 2 bttm, 2 vers.' Shortly after, a second text arrived, reading, `ass n mouth used 6 str8 hrs.'

I thought about Max's ass dripping with loads of cum, at least six but almost certainly more because of the versatile guys and the likelihood some of the men had gone for seconds. That was all it took to get me hard. I wasn't going to let Max off the hook after the lacrosse boys partied with his ass. I started to text back, writing, Plug ur hole. Ur not dun.' But before I sent the message, Max texted, Sloppy. Will u fuck me? Sir??' Smiling, I went ahead and sent my message anyway. Max had developed a strange ability to read my mind. Although, in this case, knowing my fondness for wet, used boi holes, it wasn't a difficult challenge.

Max had a routine. When he entered my room above the gas station, he would immediately strip, leaving his clothes on a hook next to the door. After the lacrosse orgy, Max had barely dropped his clothes when I shoved him to his knees and pushed him against a wall, feeding him my cock. Intrigued by the prospect of his cum drenched ass, I got hard quickly, and once Max's mouth had done its duty, I cuffed his wrists and ankles and tied him spread-eagled on my bed. I stuffed two thick pillows under his stomach to keep his bubble butt hoisted in the air.

As I had directed, Max had buried a butt plug in his awesome bubble butt. I pulled it out and immediately replaced it with my hard fuck pole, eliciting a happy moan from the ripped blond climber. His hole had to be sore from being used all night, but the ripped climber had asked for it, and I love sloppy, used boi cunt and wasn't going to let the opportunity pass by.

Max's hole was so full of cum that it felt like my cock was in a butter churn. Sounded like it too. Big splooshing sounds echoed as my cock powered into Max's sloshy ass. I lowered my chest on Max's bare back, my long dreadlocks covering Max's short, spiked blond hair. "How many loads did you take in your whore hole, slut?" I asked.

"Thirteen," Max moaned. The lacrosse boys got the moneys' worth, I thought. Max whimpered and gasped, "I kept thinking how much you would like my hole if it was flooded with cum and how I wanted your load most of all. Tell me I'm your bitch and you own my holes!"

I was silent as I plowed Max's boy hole, contemplating whether to be annoyed that Max had begged me to tell him he was my bitch. I would have been annoyed with almost every man I had topped. But I couldn't get mad at Max. "Like I told you," I groaned as I gasped for breath, "I own your ass, your mouth, your cock, your body. Yes, you're my bitch, and that's never going to change."

"Oh, yeah, fuck me silly," Max murmured, as if he was on a different planet. My black python was hard as a rock and I repeatedly ground it deep into Max's used boi cunt. I was beginning to get close when Max exclaimed, "Oh, God, I'm cumming!" I felt his hole spasm as he climaxed.

I was puzzled by Max's climax. With Max's arms tied, it was hands-free, and two of the lacrosse boys were bottoms, so that meant Max probably had cum at least twice already tonight. Two other lacrosse players were versatile, so Max might have topped both of them and already gotten off four loads. Maybe the bottoms wanted him twice and maybe one of the tops liked to fuck the cum out of whoever was his bottom. It hadn't occurred to me that Max had that kind of stamina, but a number of men in Chicago that hired him had raved about his cock and his fucking, and it wasn't like he was only doing one or two guys a day during his residence in Tom's hotel. Max hadn't exactly flagged when he repeatedly pumped Stian's ass in Denver, either.

Knowing I had at least two or three more loads for Max's ass, I slam fucked the college boy furiously for fifteen or twenty thrusts after his climax and then added my load to the cum lake deep in his hole.

I fucked Max's used boi pussy three more times during the night. Max's soggy fuck chute was a cum cesspool. Fucker liked it, though. Max matched me climax for climax, spewing three more loads of his own spunk. He was easy to push over the edge when I was inside his hole. He didn't climax hands-free like the first time, but a couple of good strokes on his cock was all it took to bring him off.

My big room above the gas station smelled like a cum factory for days.

The enjoyment of fucking Max's used boi hole after other men had pumped their cum into it was luring me into some bad habits. It was often late when Max would return from appointments, and knowing Max's boi pussy was juicy and used, I couldn't resist drilling it. That was bad enough, but I compounded the problem by often letting Max stay the rest of the night. I rationalized his presence by telling myself I might want to use his hole again, later in the night or early the next morning, and I often did. But I also liked the way Max's ice blue eyes stared at me in the morning and enjoyed seeing his naked body as he made coffee or showered in my big, open shower.

I grew used to having Max around, and the college boy went out of his way to be helpful and pleasant. The kid would do anything that needed doing, from the dishes to cleaning to laundry, without being asked or told. He was quiet and practically invisible until he detected that I wanted something, and then he would appear as if by magic. He was everything a good sub should be, without my having done a lick of training. It was uncanny.

Two weeks after the lacrosse orgy, Max had two early appointments, and when he appeared in my room afterward, he was carrying an expensive bottle of wine. He presented it to me and said simply, "I love two things. Climbing rocks and you climbing on top of me and drilling me with your big black cock. You're the best thing that ever happened to me." I didn't respond, but I downed the entire bottle of wine, fucking Max's sloppy whore hole in between glasses. It took me forever to climax in his boi cunt after the last glass, but Max's hungry, penetrating blue eyes and the pools of cum that splooged from his cock confirmed that he loved every minute of it. He was addicted to my big tool, and whether I could claim credit for training him or not, he was a perfect sub hungering for the feel of my cock inside him.

Later, in bed as Max breathed quietly next to me, I reflected on Max's comment when he gave me the wine – that I was the best thing that had ever happened to him – and I felt a touch of disquiet. Thinking back, I began to put the pieces together. After our first night together Max told me that he liked it when I said I owned his white whore ass and he was my slut bitch. He asked me to say it again after the lacrosse orgy. In Chicago he said that doing what I wanted made him happy, and he was content when his junk was locked in a chastity cage, as long as I had the only keys. And now he had confessed that I was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Max was in my bed when I woke up more often than not. He was the perfect, natural sub, and was totally enamored with me. I had grown accustomed to his presence – more than accustomed. I was comfortable, even contented with Max being around continually.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

THE END

(At least for now...)

I would love to hear your suggestions and feedback. One reader suggested I write chapter 8 - `Under the Boot' from Shane's POV; it's a great idea and I hope to get that on Nifty at some point.

Email me at Coltonaalto@gmail.com

© Copyright Colton Aalto 2015