The general disclaimers apply to this story. Please, do not copy this unless you have permission from me, the author. DO NOT read this is you are under the age of 18, or of it is illegal for you to read this type of material wherever you live.
This story is NOT (I repeat... NOT) jam-packed with constant sex scenes. It's more or less a story about two college students that discover that there is more to life than what they have been told.
Please email me comments. My email: letitbeatu@hotmail.com
I am not a writer, but one day hope to be. Feedback is very much appreciated.
"Fly Away Home"
It's typical for it to be hot during an Oklahoma summer in late August. Sweat was sliding from my temple and down the side of my face. I brought a hand up and wiped what I could away, but it kept coming. I looked at the GPS that was mounted to my dash. Twenty more minutes until I reached Oklahoma State University. It was going to be my home for the next four years, not exactly by choice.
A little information about me: my name is Jared, I'm 18 years old, about 6'2" tall, a solid 220lbs, and I'm fairly broad-shouldered. I'm not grossly muscular or anything, just a guy that played a lot of varsity football back in high school. I have short black hair, and five o'clock shadow that never goes away. My eyes are a crystal blue that gets me compliments from all of the women. I don't complain.
I was sitting in my old, beat-up car, driving the six hours to the campus. The air conditioning didn't work. I begged my father to get it fixed, but he waved it off and said that driving with the windows down wouldn't kill me. He was right – it didn't kill me, but I'm fairly certain I lost half of my body weight in sweat.
Speaking of my stubborn father; he was the reason why I had to go to Oklahoma State. All of my friends were going closer to home; Tulsa, Broken Arrow, but not me. Dad wanted me to get away from our small town and be successful. Usually it's the other way around; usually, it's the kid that wants to get away, and the parents want them to stay close to home.
I grew up with a normal family; went to church every Sunday, I had a younger sister that was about to start her junior year in high school, I graduated as Salutatorian (second-highest in my class), and everything seemed to fall into place. I was picked up by a few football scouts, but decided to give sports up when a fellow member of our team suffered a severe head trauma senior year. He couldn't even remember his name. I decided that, although I loved football, it wasn't worth losing my mind over. Literally.
Life was typically conservative. I never really agreed with everything my parents taught us. My mom was a Sunday school teacher, and my dad was a city council member, so I was subject to a lot of conservative speeches and sermons. I'm not trying to be disrespectful, that's just how life was for me. I loved my parents, even though my dad was completely overbearing. Mom loved Laura, my sister, the most.
I had a girlfriend, Jenna, but she broke up with me after I dropped the news that I was going away to Oklahoma State. She said she didn't understand why I had to go so far away, and I made up an excuse that I was trying to experience new things, etc, etc. She had every reason to break up with me, and I played it off like I didn't care. I loved her, and deep down I blamed my dad for making me have to go off and prove something to the rest of our town. It was his fault.
But other than the typical family drama, I'm an average straight male, eager to get started with the rest of my life. I'm majoring in Biology, a hopeful Pre-Med student. Pediatrics was my future career goal.
I finally arrived at the campus. I slowly drove through a bustling intersection, trying to find my parking lot. Over a large hedge, I saw the sign. It seemed to be glaring at me. "Harper Hall," it read. My dorm. I pulled into my spot and grudgingly made my way to the main building.
I was on the second floor. I stepped off of the elevator. The halls were flooded with parents and students trying to find the appropriate rooms. People bumped into me, I tried to apologize, but everything was chaotic. I was suddenly glad that my parents hadn't come with me, because it would have been disastrous. I saw the looks of anguish on other kids' faces. They looked in agony; the embarrassment was obvious.
I finally got to my room; it was at the end of the hall. I fumbled for my keys and unlocked it successfully. I opened the door, only to be greeted by a sight similar to what was in the hallway.
"Do you have everything?" a middle-aged man was saying to my supposed roommate.
"Yeah, dad, I'm fine," I heard my roommate say.
The middle-aged man was with a woman, his wife. They looked at me as I stepped inside. I smiled awkwardly. They didn't, but they were merely scoping me out. We understood each other.
"I'm Jared," I said slowly. "I think I'm your roommate."
My roommate looked relieved. He stood up, and I realized that he was about my height, maybe a few inches shorter. He had dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and a bit of scruff on his lower chin. He shook my hand with a forceful grip.
"I'm Michael," he said.
It was another hour before Michael's parents were able to leave him alone. His mother asked me a lot of questions, mostly about where I was from and what I was majoring in. When she was satisfied, she joined her husband in hugging Michael until they were forced out. I spent the duration of this hour moving my own stuff in.
"Sorry about them," Michael said, hiding his face behind his hands.
"It's no problem." I grinned. Michael looked up, then to my unpacked boxes laying all over the floor.
"Let me help you." He bent down and began to take things out of my boxes. I smiled and we unpacked my stuff together. It took us about two hours, but the small dorm room finally began to look like a home. It was weird.
"Thanks for your help," I said, turning down the thermostat. Michael laughed and fell into his own bed.
"It's really hot," he said, fanning himself with an old magazine of mine. I sat down on my bed, which faced him. Michael was pretty big; about 210lbs, muscular, strong calf muscles as far as I could see. Definitely a man's man.
"Are you not from around here?" I was naturally curious.
"I'm from Nebraska." He sat up, feeling the cold air shoot from the vents above his bed.
"Why the hell are you all the way down here?"
Michael shrugged and looked away. "My parents didn't approve of it, either, but it was the only place I could afford that was far enough away from them."
I finally understood. "So you came to get away from your parents?"
He frowned. "Is it that obvious?"
We laughed it off. There wasn't much time for us to get to know each other, because classes started that following Monday. It was Friday. We did find out random facts about one another, though. Michael had no siblings, he was on a full-ride scholarship, he was majoring in Retail Management, and he loved football. We bonded over our man-crushes on Tim Tebow.
Classes started, and we were both bombarded with work. We stuck pretty close to one another. I would meet him for lunch in the student union, and we would talk about everything that was going on. He met this girl named Kenya, who was from India, and they began dating. Kenya was absolutely gorgeous; she had caramel skin, brown eyes, and a thick accent that would captivate anyone. She was with a group of students that were studying internationally. She tutored me in my Calculus class.
Michael and Kenya dated through most of the first quarter. The three of us grew closer, and soon we were inseparable. Some nights I'd come home from a late lab class and see a sock on the doorknob, and I'd know that Michael was getting lucky. So, I'd go crash in the student lounge. One night while I was riding the couch in the lounge, I saw a small light on in the corner.
"Your roommate is bumping uglies, too?" The voice said in a quiet whisper. I had to lean forward to see for myself. The voice came from Erica Miller. I had Shakespearian Literature with her. She sat at the front and I would stare at her long, thick black hair. My hair is black, but Erica's was jet black, a different black than everyone else's. I definitely had a crush on her, no doubt.
Erica was typing on her laptop. I got up and sat across from her. "Yeah. It's a regular thing." She looked at me, shutting her computer down. Her eyes were a magnificent green, almost emerald. I swallowed a dry lump in my throat.
"You're Jared, right?" She took off her reading glasses, looking me over closely. I nodded. We began to talk, and not long after we were pressed against one another in the communal bathrooms at the end of the hall. It was about 3AM. We were both clumsy, but I knew and she knew we both wanted it.
I felt her up. Her tits felt great. My dick was straining behind my jeans. I quickly unbuckled them and she slid her panties down. I bent her over and rolled a condom onto my throbbing 8 inches.
The rest plays out like any other sex story. It was great, no complaints. Erica was brilliant. She gave me her cell number, and two weeks later we had our first date.
It was now getting close to the Thanksgiving season, and Michael and I spent more time together. Kenya wasn't around as much. I asked Michael about it.
"She's just busy," he'd always say. I didn't think anything of it. Erica would often come over, and the three of us would study for Organic Chemistry together. It was the only class that all of us shared. Our majors were so vastly different. Erica was a Journalism major, so she was across campus from the calculus and science buildings.
During one of our daily lunches together, I noticed that Michael was picking at his tray. The small patch of stubble he had on his chin during move-in day, was now a full-on beard. He looked worn and haggard. I playfully tapped him on the shoulder.
"What's wrong with you, Mike?" I called him Mike whenever I was trying to aggravate him.
He didn't say anything right away. Instead, he sat his fork down and crossed his hands. I noticed that his eyes were red and bloodshot. I began to get worried. Michael was my friend, and I didn't like to see him like this.
"Is everything okay with your grades?" That was my first worry. Maybe he was about to flunk out and he didn't want to tell me. Michael shook his head. That wasn't it.
"What about your parents? Are they alright?" I kept going on and on. He stopped me, eventually.
"Kenya broke up with me. She's going back home to India." Michael pursed his lips. I felt my pulse escalate. Everything suddenly made sense. Kenya had been distant to me these past few weeks. I approached her with a question on my calculus assignment, but she scampered away like a scared animal. She probably thought I was coming to interrogate her about her relationship with Michael.
"Man, I'm so sorry," I forced myself to say, reaching out and rubbing his shoulder. Michael recoiled. He pushed himself away from the table and walked out of the cafeteria. I was left sitting by myself.
That night was a frat party hosted by Sigma Nu. I was rushing them, and they were going to reveal who got in during the party. Erica was with me. I told her about Kenya and Michael. She frowned, but quickly recovered once she had a few shots of tequila. I asked Michael to come with me, but he refused, saying he just wanted to study in peace. I let him be.
"My main man!" I turned around, staring straight at Ian Cole, a junior at the university. He was your stereotypical frat guy; muscular, not unattractive, but no different from the others. He somehow managed to wear a baseball cap backwards and still get laid every night. He gave me a high five and shoved a drink in my hand.
"Just wanted to give you a heads up—you're in Sigma Nu. Welcome, brother!" He gave me a hug, and I could smell the vodka through his pores. I smiled uncertainly and pushed him back.
"Thanks," I mumbled. He nodded and went off, spilling his drink on people as he went. Erica hugged me in congratulations. Apparently, running across campus at 5AM and hazing for two weeks straight had paid off.
The party went as planned. Everyone that rushed got into the fraternity, except one scrawny guy that was hospitalized during the hazing process. He wasn't even at the party. No one cared. Erica was completely drunk. She wanted to have sex, but I passed her off to her friend Natalie. They stumbled back to the dorm together, singing at the top of their lungs. I went in the opposite direction.
When I opened the door to my room, Michael was sitting up in bed, reading. He smiled, and then wrinkled his face in disgust.
"You smell like rubbing alcohol."
I swallowed a laugh. "That's just tequila."
He closed his book and sat up. He looked pensive. I sat at the end of his bed. "You doing okay?"
"It hurts. I just wish she would have told me sooner, you know?"
I nodded. "I know."
He shook himself out of a trance and stood up. He wasn't wearing a shirt. I had to admit, Michael was pretty toned. I checked out his hairy chest and bulging biceps. I didn't think it was weird at first. I was simply admiring his body.
"Let's go out and do something. I'm tired of moping around this place. I want to feel good for once." He threw on a shirt and put on his shoes. I couldn't argue with him.
We went to the coffee shop that was a few blocks down from our dorm. I told Michael that I was a part of the Sigma Nu fraternity and he laughed it off, telling me that I would have to become stupid to meet their requirements.
Michael wasn't like most of the other kids; he was raised in a very liberal home, very accepting of everyone. I'm not saying I wasn't, but I was shocked that we shared so many views. One day Michael brought up the subject of gay marriage, and I told him that marriage should be between a man and a woman. He looked at me, red blossoming across his cheeks, and said adamantly: "Please don't tell me you're like the others." It took me by surprise.
"Michael, you have to understand that I'm not from Nebraska. I didn't grow up in a Democratic state. I lived in Oklahoma all my life. Conservative central."
He nodded, looking away. I didn't mean to offend him, and I certainly had no problem with gay people. I had just been raised to know that marriage was only for a man and a woman. With time, however, I slowly began to realize that marriage isn't a sacred right to be shared by a few, but it was meant to be shared by many. I can only thank Michael for opening my mind up to that.
We shared many books, from Thoreau to Shakespeare. He would introduce me to movies and video games, and I'd teach him how to do some sports move on the practice field near our dorm. We grew to be like brothers. At least, I considered him a brother.
Kenya left to go back home, and Michael became quiet for the rest of the semester. I'd take him out for coffee and he'd just stare at the table all night. Erica and I were making plans to go stay with her family during Christmas break. I told her that my parents were unavailable due to work, but that was a lie. I just didn't want her to meet them.
Final exams rolled around, and I was swamped with work. Everything happened at once. Erica and I crammed in the library for 48 straight hours, without sleep. Or sex. It killed me.
Erica left the campus a day before me, saying she was going to go home and help her parents prepare the guest room for me and straighten up the house. I agreed, as she only lived two hours away.
I got to my room and saw Michael laying in bed, as he normally did on nights like this. It was raining outside. He was taking drinks from a large bottle of vodka. The stench of alcohol burned my nose.
"What are you doing, Michael?" I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. He rolled over, managing to sit up. I could tell he was hammered by the hazy look in his eyes. He pulled out a bottle of pills from his pocket and waved them in front of his face.
"I was going to kill myself tonight," he said, with wavering sincerity in his voice, "but I was too much of a fucking pussy to do it. Just like I was too much of a pussy to keep Kenya here, or be like you—" he stopped, his eyes widening. I stepped closer to him, my hand outstretched.
"Give me the pills, Michael. Everything will be okay." I tried to grab them, but he pulled away and stood up, opposite me.
"Why the hell do you care? You have Erica and you're a frat guy. Go off with your other frat buddies and fuck all the pussy you want! Isn't that your dream?" Tears were falling from his eyes and his voice was rising. I felt my emotions rise up from the pit of my stomach.
We slowly circled around one another. Michael took the cap off the pills, teasing me. I didn't know what to do. Every time I reached for my cell phone, he threatened to pour the pills in his mouth. I felt something trickle down the side of my cheek, and I wiped it away. I pulled my fingers back and realized that tears were welled in my eyes.
"Please don't do this," was all I could muster. Michael laughed dryly.
In a decisive moment, I lunged across the room and tackled Michael to the floor. The pills went flying in all directions. We were punching and hitting one another. I grunted as he landed a hard kick into my stomach. I put my hand over his mouth, trying to get some advantage over him. Maybe it was the liquor, but he was able to pin me to the floor. He rammed a fist into my face, and I felt the acidic taste of blood rush into my mouth. I spit, trying to shove Michael off of me, but before I could, I was smothered—by Michael himself.
I was caught off guard. His lips were pressed against mine. His face was in mine. His hands were on the sides of my face. I tried to push back, but I felt lightheaded. I felt like everything was swirling around me. I closed my eyes, feeling the pain from where Michael hit me subside.
I was being kissed by another man, and I was enjoying it. I felt his tongue tickle my upper lip. I opened my mouth and let him enter. He explored my own mouth. Our breaths warmed each other's faces. He tore my jacket off, and I was only in my t-shirt. He pulled away, looking me deep in the eyes. I knew in that instant the he wasn't drunk. He was sober.
"Take off your shirt," he said. I obeyed without complaint.
He pushed me back down onto the floor and kissed me, his lips moving lower, now under my chin, down to each of my nipples. I felt the pleasure rush through me, and my cock was at full mast. I moaned in ecstasy. He smiled, moving even further down, licking my treasure trail as he went.
He quickly unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down. My boxers had a huge tent in them. I couldn't believe this was happening, and I was enjoying it more than I ever had with anyone before. Michael looked up at me, and I looked back at him.
"You alright?" His eyes were sparkling. I swallowed a desire to pull him up and kiss him right then and there.
"Fine," I squeaked. He pulled my boxers down to my ankles. He looked at my cock and stared in amazement. He sniffed the wild patch of pubic hair I had, then hungrily went for my cock. I almost shouted in surprise at how good it felt when his tongue began to lap across the head of my dick. Michael was a champ; he went all the way down to my pubes, and never gagged once. He was hungry for it, and I was in heaven.
He kept sucking my cock. I grabbed a wad of his hair and began to face fuck him. He moaned, lathering my cock with his saliva. I felt myself go cross-eyed. I knew I was leaking pre-cum already, and each time I felt close, Michael would pull off and play with my low-hanging balls. He'd flick his tongue around them, swirl them in his mouth. I grabbed my shirt and bit down on it so I wouldn't shout out loud.
"I want you to fuck me," he said, standing up and unbuckling his belt.
"Have you ever done that before?" I stood up, helping him get undressed.
"I want you to be my first," he whispered, kicking off his jeans and crawling on top of me. He brought his lips to mine and we kissed passionately. I felt him sit on my crotch. He grinded his ass against my dick. I felt like I was going to cum right then, but he turned around and I pressed myself against him.
My dick was lubed with his spit and my pre-cum, so lube wasn't necessary, but it would have made the experience a lot easier. I slowly entered his hairy ass. Michael groaned under me, but the warmth of his body and the amount of pleasure I was feeling would not allow me to stop. I pushed in farther. He began to moan in pleasure.
Slowly, I was all the way inside of him. He was stroking himself. I grabbed his dick, and felt that he was about the same size as me, a little thicker. He had trimmed pubes, but a great set of low-hangers. Everything about this moment was perfect.
"Your ass is so fucking tight," I said, whispering into his ear. Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure throughout my body. I didn't know it was possible to feel this incredible during sex. I clenched my eyes and slowly pushed in and out of Michael. He remained quiet. All I wanted to do was kiss him.
The warmth of his ass made me feel at home. My cock sure knew what he wanted, and I wasn't about to stop anytime soon. I fucked him harder, giving him all of the dick I could. I never knew the meaning of being "balls-deep" in someone, but this was my first time experiencing it with a guy.
After about 30 minutes of fucking his ass, I felt my balls draw up into my body. The orgasm was going to be different than any other I had ever experienced, I knew this.
"Michael, I'm gonna cum. Do you want me to pull out?" I said, slowing down. He just kept ramming his ass against my cock, looking at me as I kept pumping him.
"Inside me," he croaked, and I nodded, leaning forward to kiss him.
I felt my cock swell, and the cum seemed to rush from the ends of my toes. Every nerve-ending in my body seemed to be on fire and radiate with pleasure. I was in this euphoric state of bliss and happiness. Everything seemed perfect. The universe seemed at peace, etc, etc.
I shuddered, feeling the explosion of cum enter into Michael. He moaned into the hard tile floor. We were both sweating.
The cum came in volleys. I felt each one, stronger than the last. My body shook uncontrollably. Everything was spinning. I saw stars when I opened my eyes. The spasms in my dick continued, but I was out of cum. I was content with shooting the biggest load I had ever managed to shoot in my entire life.
I pulled out. Cum oozed from Michael's ass. He turned to me, jacking his cock. He leaned his head back and I knew what was coming. I kissed him just as he began to spray his huge load all over me. I left him shuddering in my arms.
A few moments passed. It was just us and our mingled breathing. He pulled away from me, his cum gluing our bodies together.
"What did we just do?" he inquired, almost panicking.
"I don't know, but I liked it..."
"Jared, we had sex!" His voice was high-pitched and desperate. I tried to reach out and calm him, but he scurried away, pulling up his pants and hurrying from the room.
I suddenly realized what had just happened. I felt my chest tighten and each breath came with labored effort. Tears stung my eyes, and I thought of my parents, and of Erica.
But I mostly thought of Michael and how much I loved him.
To be continued.