BBC on Campus

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• My experiences are in everything I write, sometimes just a view of the mountains, sometimes much more, but this story is fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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BBC ON CAMPUS

CHAPTER THREE – DANCER ON A BLACK POLE

The college rock climbers living in the repurposed gas station below my room didn't make it easy on my cock. Their bodies were constantly on display, which made me constantly focus on their asses. The day after the Bikinis and Goggles race, they assembled behind the gas station with a half dozen other climbers and, shirtless, spent the afternoon scaling the sheer red cliffs to the west. Not only were they shirtless, but the rock climbing tools and ropes attached to their belts pulled their shorts down enough to expose the tops of an array of intriguing ass cracks. I had a perfect view from the big windows in my upstairs room. There is nothing quite like seeing a guy plastered against a vertical rock wall, wearing only shorts and climbing shoes, muscles flexed and straining, and ass hard and taut. It was a damn good thing that I had drained my balls into Kyle's ass the day before.

The scenery stayed good after that afternoon, too. When Dontrell showed me the room during the summer, he warned me how hot the gas station got when the sun was out. The man was right. Within a couple of days, the rock boys were in the habit of stripping down to boxers as soon as they entered the place. That meant their ripped bodies were more-or-less constantly on display.

The guys also imported a makeshift rock climbing wall in the main living area, next to the two-story stairway that led to my room. Travis, who was the ringleader of the rock climbers, found the wall at a gym that was closing. The guys bought it for pennies and got some friends to disassemble it and move it to the gas station. The rock boys were always dangling off some miniscule hold on the rock wall, shirtless, with their muscles bulging and their smooth skin covered with a sheen of sweat.

In my quest to bed all six of the rock climbers, I went for the low hanging fruit – so to speak – first. When I first met the college boys, I assumed they were straight, but it didn't take much study of my quasi-roommates to detect that Jesse, the dancer, was gay. Not only gay but fixated on seeing what was swinging between my legs. He gave me long, hungry looks every time I saw him, and I had no doubt that I could bone the boy just for the asking. Or maybe without having to ask. A week after the Bikini and Goggles race, my opportunity to fuck the first of the climbers presented itself.

I got in a long run on Saturday. The weather was hot, and although the humidity was low, with the intense sun I was sweating like a pig halfway through the run. I pulled off my tank top and stuck it into the back of my shorts. When I finished and walked into the old gas station, the place was like an oven. I was happy for the air conditioning system Dontrell had jury-rigged for my upstairs apartment.

I thought the rock boys had taken off for cooler places and the gas station was deserted, but as I entered, I was surprised to find Jesse stretching in the long hallway outside the garage bays. The late afternoon sun was streaming through the glass block wall, and the kid looked incredible. His reddish brown hair glowed in the sunlight. He was wearing a tiny red singlet that exposed his back and chest. Hell, it exposed just about everything. The thin, clingy material of the singlet dipped so low I probably could see the kid's pubes and ass crack if I looked close. His pale white skin was wet with sweat, and he was standing on one leg, holding his other leg straight up in the air with both hands. His back was turned, and the singlet had wedged itself into Jesse's incredible ass crack. Damn, dancer's asses are like no others.

The first time I met Jesse, I had assumed, not knowing he was a rock climber, that his strong arms and chest came from lifting other dancers. He was strong enough to be good at lifts, but his muscular upper body also came from pulling himself up the face of rock cliffs. Backlit by the sun, and with the singlet leaving nothing to the imagination, he looked hot. Hot enough to fuck, even in the heat.

I walked toward him, making enough noise to make Jesse notice me. Jesse turned and looked up at me. He was short, maybe 5'8" at best, and I towered over him by at least nine inches. He smiled and said, "Hey, Dillinger." I didn't reply, just leaning against the wall, still breathing deeply from my run.

I have no idea why, but my mom named me after a Chicago gangster from the 30s. At least Dillinger was a novel name. I got puzzled looks over the name, but most people were too polite to ask if I was really named after an infamous bank robber. Usually my friends called me Dread' because of my dreadlocks. I'm not certain that name was much better. Maybe it should have been Wolf' for my wolf eyes or my predatory instincts when it came to sex.

If this was Jesse's private time to exercise, in his own space, I wanted to make him feel like I had invaded it. With a faint smile, my eyes raked Jesse's body, slowly panning from his head to his feet, and back to his torso. It was a signal I was mentally undressing him and assessing his body. Assessing his body for sex. My look, challenging him to run or submit, was more than just casual. It was predatory. The gray wolf was running free, his prey sighted.

The slut took the bait. He smiled as if to say, `game on' and resumed stretching. I leaned against the wall, staring as the kid worked his body. He put on a show for my benefit, performing an array of dance moves that showed off his ass. The fucker was trying to seduce me. Little did he know that my dick was destined for his ass regardless of what he did, but I played it for what it was worth, enjoying the show.

Jesse crawled on a high table in the hallway and did the splits, his legs stretched at a 90 degree angles from his torso. His awesome, muscular ass was flexed and hanging just off the edge of the table. He bent forward so that his chest was flat on the table and he looked over his shoulder at me, wetting his lips. Damn, the kid was hot to trot.

I walked behind him, sliding my hand inside his singlet and plunging a finger into his sweaty, wet hole. He gasped. I jammed a second and then a third finger deep into him, roughly raking his prostrate. Damn. The fucker was tight and wet, and with his flexed glutes looking hotter than ever, my only real decision was whether to make him suck me before I fucked him. Thinking about how sweaty my crotch must be, the answer was obvious. Yeah, Jesse's little seduction performance had been hot, but the kid needed to know he wasn't in charge. His place was to serve me.

I walked to the front of the table. Jesse looked up at me with big, pleading blue eyes. His freckles stood out, splashed across his nose and highlighting his pale shoulders. I pulled my running shorts down, letting my big black cock pop free. "Suck it, slut," I said. "Get me good and hard so I can rip your boi pussy. Make love to my dick. Let me know how much you want it in your ass."

Jesse didn't waste time. With his legs still in the splits, he took my manhood in his big, pale hand and brought it to his lips. He began licking slowly, but in little time – with a struggle over my size – he had my cock all the way down his throat. Who would have thought that a pale dancer in Montana could suck dick like a champ? He had done this before. Fuck, the gay boi had sucked a lot of cock before. Maybe not black cock, but he had worked on big tools. He knew exactly what to do, from holding his breath as he deep throated me to relaxing his throat so that he could swallow the entire length and thickness of my bull dick.

I would have gladly taken a blow job from the college boy, but his muscular glutes and the show he put on made me intent on claiming his ass. Once I was rock hard, I moved behind him, pulling his singlet aside to reveal his hole. It was still wet, and with my dick dripping from Jesse's spit, I couldn't resist fucking him bare. I added my spit to his hole. I forced the head of my cock against his pink pucker, eliciting a long moan from Jesse as he wiggled his ass, pressing backward against me. I had to think his legs were getting close to cramping from being in the splits so long, but he was completely focused on getting his ass plowed. And I was completely focusing on plowing it.

I moved forward, feeling his hole clamp around my dick as I began to slide inside him. His guts were hot as a furnace and Jesse groaned and cried, "Ahh!" each time another half inch of my cock sank inside him. His long fingers were gripping the side of the table and the sun coming through the glass block wall was like a spotlight on the big muscles of his pale, freckled shoulders. His arms and shoulders were tensed.

With my dick halfway imbedded in Jesse's tight hole, he groaned and slowly began to move his legs backward. They must have gotten to the point of cramping. But rather than lowering his legs to the floor, he wrapped them around my hips, crossing his feet in the small of my back. I took advantage of the situation, taking a step back and pulling Jesse off the table so that only his chest and arms were left to support his body. I grabbed a muscular thigh with each hand, and held the dance boy, his torso pinned by my cock.

I don't think Jesse understood that only half of my fuck pole was inside him. I pulled out and began pumping halfway in and out of his hole, eliciting a series of gasping moans from the rock boy. But Jesse was in for a surprise. After a few minutes of the half fuck, I gripped his legs and pulled his ass backwards while ramming forward, sinking the rest of my cock deep inside the twink.

Jesse let out a wail and his muscles tensed even more. But with his legs trapped by my arms, he was helpless. Now I was ready for a good fuck. I pulled out almost all the way and slammed back inside him. I controlled Jesse's body with my arms, jerking him backward as I thrust forward.

Soon I had a good pace going. Sweat was running down my bare chest and into my crotch, keeping my dick well lubricated as I bred the dance boy. My stiff black rod pulled almost all the way out of his hole and then disappeared completely inside him. Wet, slapping sounds echoed throughout the old gas station as my crotch smacked against Jesse's bubble butt.

The kid was a moaner. Each time I split his boi cunt, he groaned and whimpered, and a little "Ahh," escaped his lips. I could feel my nut coming and almost before I knew it, I was past the point of no return. I pumped Jesse a couple more times and froze, my cock rammed as far inside his guts as it would go, and growled, "Fuck, yeah!" I shuddered as my balls discharged, pumping load after load of white spunk into Jesse's tight ass. It had been too long – a week – since I had used Kyle's ass, and my balls were overflowing.

As my cock stopped spewing, all at once the gas station felt incredibly hot. I eased out of Jesse's ass, pulling his singlet back over it, but making sure to shove the thin, stretchy material into his hole to soak up the cum that was sure to leak from his gaping ass. I slowly lowered Jesse's feet to the ground.

To my surprise, Jesse had cum too, hands-free. Long lines of white spunk graced the concrete floor. I had fucked the cum out of the dance boy! Damn, that boy liked black dick. My stint in Montana was looking up already. A horny little boi toy that I could use whenever I wanted –conveniently located a long staircase away from my room – was exactly what I needed.

I wasn't done. I turned Jesse around and stared down into his lust filled eyes. "That was incredible," he said. "I've never gotten fucked like that before." He wanted me to kiss him, wanted me to gush and tell him what a great fuck he was. None of that was going to happen. Jesse didn't appreciate it yet, but to me he was a toy, a cum dump and nothing more. He would come to understand that all too well.

I shook my head slowly and brought a finger up to his lips. "You don't talk," I said. "You use your mouth for only one thing." His eyes betrayed uncertainty, but if he had any doubt what I meant, it vanished when I pressed him roughly to his knees. My big black cock, semi-hard and still coated with cum, swung in his face. The kid gave me a questioning look, but I clenched my jaws and pushed his head toward my dick. If he had any question before, he now knew what his mouth was for.

Jesse licked his lips and soon greedily swallowed my piece, cleaning it off. He was a born slut. He stared up at me the entire time, his face framed by his auburn hair, plastered to his forehead by his sweat. In the stark light of the late afternoon sun, Jesse's pale skin glowed. His sideburns were just a little longer than normal, not a look I normally liked, but on Jesse they were edgy and sexy. To me, his burns said, `fuck me, I can take it.'

As his expert mouth worked my cock, I began to get hard again. I usually stiffen up again two or three minutes after climaxing, and in no time my dick was rock hard, buried in Jesse's throat. I let the college boy work on me for a good, long time, but while I knew I would eventually deposit gallons of spunk in his mouth, now I was going to ring up another piece of his amazing ass.

I pulled him to his feet, slipping the straps of his singlet over his shoulders and sliding it over his hips, letting it fall to the floor. "Use your little uniform to clean your mess up off the floor," I ordered. Jesse complied, dropping to his knees and soaking his cum up with his singlet before getting back to his feet. I took the singlet from him, and, finding the part that was wet with my cum, stuffed it in his mouth. "Just in case you're tempted to say anything," I said with a hard smile. I tied the singlet around his head, making sure it wouldn't move. It made a nice, ad hoc gag.

I guided Jesse into the garage bay that he and Travis shared. I didn't want Jesse to be comfortable, so fucking him in his own bed was out of the question. Instead, I shoved him onto Travis's bed. His dancer/rock climber body looked amazing as I put his legs on my shoulders and readied my cock for its second excursion into his ass. His hole was still sloppy with my cum, so any thought of lube was unnecessary. Used holes are the best.

Jesse's body tensed as I pushed the head of my cock past his sphincter. I played with him, pushing in just a little and pulling back out, using only the tip of my dick. His moans were muffled by the gag in his mouth.

Climbing onto the bed and leaning into him, I made Jesse take the full length of my cock in one endless thrust, driving in relentlessly, making him wonder when the assault would stop. My black pubes finally pressed against his soft, white ass cheeks. Damn, his ass felt good! I began to ride him, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in.

The second fuck was better than the first. I was probably too horned up to completely enjoy the first one, but I took my time on the second, ramming my rod inside the dance boy repeatedly. The only bad thing was how hot it was. I was drenched with sweat and dying of thirst. I could have guzzled a gallon of water.

Jesse's body was incredible, his defined abs and chest slicked with sweat as he lay underneath me and moaned into his gag. After a good 15 or 20 minutes of getting fucked, Jesse's cock began to stiffen again. Soon it was dripping pre-cum. I didn't think there was any way he was going to climax hands-free again, and I debated whether to play with him, but his dick looked good. I wrapped my fist around his pole, and he gasped so hard that I though he was going to swallow the gag.

Jesse was no virgin. The bitch was a great cocksucker, and the way he had advertised his ass could only mean he had been fucked plenty of times. But had he been fucked hard, slam fucked, treated like a slut? Had his hole been carved up by a big black cock? I had no idea, but I was about to give Jesse a fuck he would remember for a long, long time.

I rode him without mercy, fisting his cock and using it to manipulate his body. My black pole became a lance, splitting the white boy's awesome ass time and time again. I let all of my weight collapse on him as I skewered him, pounding his ass like a sledge hammer. Fucker would never forget my big black cock invading his asshole.

My second climax was building. But before my balls emptied, my hand got wet as Jesse's second load erupted from his cock. I would have stuffed my fingers in his mouth to make him eat his own jism, but with the gag that wasn't an option. I settled for spreading the boy's cum across his sweat-coated chest and abs. Concentrating on my own climax, I rammed Jesse as hard as I could a dozen times, then closed my eyes, flexed my legs and plunged into his hole one last time, as far as I could go. My cock lurched and flooded Jesse's boi cunt.

I seriously considered drilling the kid a third time, but it was so damned hot that I had to get out of the garage. I kept my dick buried inside Jesse until it was mostly soft, then pulled the gag from the slut's mouth and grabbed a handful of his hair, shoving his face into my crotch. The dance boy knew what to do. He lapped at my cock like a champ, cleaning it.

My running shorts and tank top were at the foot of the bed, and I started to reach for them, but then figured, why bother? All I had to do was climb two flights of stairs before getting in the shower. Jesse got up too, probably worried about cum from his gaping hole soaking into Travis's bed. The bed covers were already wet with sweat.

Before leaving, I shoved the dance twink against the wall and lifted him off the floor, pinning his body between me and the wall. I pressed my lips against his, plunging my tongue into his mouth, hungrily dominating him. My hands found his round, muscular bubble butt, and I sank two fingers inside him, feeling my hot cum. Breaking the kiss, I shoved my fingers into Jesse's mouth, making him eat more of my spunk.

Shit, I thought. If I keep this up I'm going to get hard again. I clamped my free hand on Jesse's jaws and whispered to him, "Has your pussy been used by a black cock before?"

"No," Jesse said. His wide eyes betrayed a mixture of fear, passion and excitement. I had seen the look before. I knew Jesse was hooked. Like they say, once you go black, you can't go back.

"And do you want me to fuck your ass again?" I asked. I knew Jesse's answer, but I needed to have it in the open to establish our arrangement going forward.

"Yes..." Jesse said quietly.

"I own your ass, understand?" I said. "Whenever I want it, wherever I want it, however I want it. I'll breed you like a bitch slut." I ground my body against Jesse's, crushing him against the wall as I took his mouth with my tongue. Breaking the kiss, I asked, "You got a problem with that?"

"No," Jesse said in a quick gasp. His blue eyes betrayed his excitement. Laughing harshly, I said, "I don't give a fuck if you have a problem with it. Black man owns you, bitch."

The big, industrial shower in my room felt incredible after my run and double cum dump. A hot little dancer boy that I could use as a toy to get off anytime I wanted was perfect. Montana didn't look so bad.

Jesse turned into even more of a fuck toy than I could imagine. He constantly watched me, and all I had to do was to give him a little signal or nod and he would throw his legs in the air. His eyes begged me to fuck him. In less than a week, I told Jesse to stop wearing underwear, unless he was in the gas station and had nothing on other than boxers. I liked being able to slide my hand inside the dance boy's shorts, grab his ass and stick a finger into his twat as a precursor to fucking it. Underwear got in the way.

Jesse had the misfortune of rooming with Travis, who was by far the rock climbers' biggest ladies' man. Two or three nights a week Travis slept with some chick – usually a different one each night, as near as I could tell – and he would kick Jesse out of their garage bay. So the kid would end up on the couch in the living room. It was sort of silly, because the three garage bays were badly soundproofed to begin with, and as the guys never lowered the garage doors, if one of the rock boys was fucking, the other five guys could hear everything. But I suppose hearing the sounds of Travis getting laid – or seeing him wailing on some poor coed's cunt if you walked past his bay to get to the rest room or kitchen – was different than sleeping in a bed six feet away.

When I got home late and wanted to breed some ass, if Jesse was on the couch I would sometimes let him sleep with me, although I don't know how much he slept given that I fucked his boi pussy at least two or three times on those nights. In the mornings, I was up well before any of the rock climbers stirred downstairs, so I always kicked Jesse out before anyone would see him on the walk of shame, descending from my room.

TO BE CONTINUED...

I hope you liked the fall of the first of the rock climbers. They won't all fall so easily... Chapter four is underway.

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