Fraternity Rush Week

Here's the fifth chapter of my story, Fraternity Rush Week: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/fraternity-rush-week/

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FRATERNITY RUSH WEEK, PART 5

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My apologies for falling off the face of the Earth, but I'mback at work on "Fraternity Rush Week."

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PREVIOUSLY ...

Travis was hard, too; he nestled his cock verticallybetween my ass cheeks. "There's nothing wrong with your body, and you havenothing to be ashamed about," he added, squeezing my cock for emphasis. "If abunch of dudes want to gawk at your dick, let `em. If they don't like what theysee, who gives a shit?"

He moved his mouth from my ear down my neck, licking,kissing and nibbling as he went. I moaned, and my body quivered. "But I likegawking at your dick," he rasped, thrusting his own cock against me.

Travis then abruptly pulled away, and lightly smackedmy ass. "Right now, though," he continued, "we better get dressed, or elsewe're going to end up making another fucking mess."

Risking the wrath of my roommate, I gave Travis one ofhis T-shirts, figuring he'd never miss it. Once dressed, I swung by thecafeteria to grab myself a cup of coffee and smuggle out a banana and apple forTravis, who waited, slouched in a chair in the dorm lobby, fending off sleep.

Armed with what passed for breakfast, we headed acrosscampus on an unseasonably warm winter morning, me to English Composition, andTravis to find where he parked the previous night. Both of us dazed from acombination of alcohol, weed and lack of sleep, we walked together in comfortablesilence, at least until Travis tapped my arm with a "Hey ... hey."

"So, does this turn you on?" he asked as the peeledbanana disappeared into his mouth. He wriggled his eyebrows -- whether playfullyor seductively? -- as he attempted to deep throat the phallic fruit. Withinseconds, however, Travis was tripped up by his own gag reflex and began towretch.

I burst out laughing, which had the unfortunate sideeffect of spraying a mouthful of hot coffee everywhere. "Serves you right," Isputtered, wiping my mouth and shirt. "You need some practice before you trythat kind of trick."

His eyes still watering, he took a bite of banana and,with a broad, child-like smile that exposed a mouthful of fruit, replied, "Knowwhere I can get any?"

My head swiveled so quickly that I almost pulled amuscle. "You're playing a dangerous game, mister," I answered, trying (again)to assess the meaning behind his words. Still smirking, Travis casuallyshrugged as he noisily ate his banana.

Before I could launch an interrogation, we arrived atthe point where our paths diverged. "Well ...," I sighed, not knowing what to say.I'd see Travis again in eight or nine hours, when he picked me up to go toanother event at the fraternity house, of course. But we'd shared so much sincelast night that it felt like saying goodbye was ... a momentous occasion. Westood staring at each uncomfortably for a couple of seconds, and then Travismoved in as if to hug me, but then pulled back. I made similarly awkward motionsbefore I abandoned any idea of a public display of affection.

"So ... dude," Travis said with a faint chuckle, tryingto diffuse the tension. "I'll stop by around 6, so we can, um, hang out beforethe thing?"

"Sounds good ... dude," I replied, and we both laughed.He lightly punched my shoulder, and then allowed his hand to glide down thelength of my arm before finally pulling away. "Later," he added, and then setoff to find his car. I watched him for a good 20 paces, until he finallyglanced back, flashed a smile and gave a casual wave.

Moments later, I was seated in English Composition andreplaying in my head the events of the past day and a half. (Really? Had itonly been that long?) My face burned and my dick stiffened at the thought ofeverything Travis and I had done. I was a horny 18-year-old, sure, but I alsorealized I was falling -- and hard -- for this boy. I tried not to focus too muchon that part, as I knew I would twist myself into an emotional knot envisioninga dozen different terrible scenarios in which this relationship could fallapart. Hell, is it even a "relationship," or is Travis just really adept atgetting exactly what he wanted, from girls or from guys?

I snapped out of what could very well turn into adownward spiral, only to realize class was in session, and had been for 20minutes. The remainder of my Friday classes unfolded in an identical fashion,with me distracted alternately by my insecurities and my hard dick. The latterwas addressed by the occasional, surreptitious squeeze of the lump in pants,but the former hung there. By a little after 4 o'clock, I was mentally andphysically exhausted, but looking forward to returning to my room for a napbefore Travis (hopefully) returned. I had little memory of the walk back to thedorm -- I could have teleported, for all I knew -- but I entered my room withrelief, and kicked off my shoes and stripped off my jeans before I was threesteps in. However, just as I was about to collapse on my bed (crusty sheets andall), there was a knock.

Thinking it was Travis arriving early, I bounded overand opened the door, only to find my neighbor Ryan, who that very morning had stoodat that very spot to tell me he smelled our weed and heard our sexualactivities.

"Oh, hey, Ryan," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant.Although still wearing the standard khaki shorts, he'd lost the sweatshirt andwas bare-chested. Blond with close-cropped hair, Ryan was smooth and toned, butnot exactly muscular. He was my height, which made it all the more difficultnot to look him in the eye.

"Hey, man, I was just hanging out in my room and heardyour door," he said, earnestly. "I'm not, uh, interrupting anything, am I?" Hiseyes roamed the room from the doorway, obviously searching for Travis.

"Nah, I just got out of class, and was going to relaxfor a little while," I answered, honestly.

"Yeah, I like to `relax,' too, after class," Ryansaid, laughing as he made the universal hand gesture for masturbation. "So, uh,can I come in for a second?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, stepping out of his way whiletrying to figure out what he could possibly want.

He sniffed the air. "It's a little ... gamey in here,"he laughed. I blushed and slid past him, scanning my bed sheets for any glaringstains. I quickly threw the blanket over my bed. "Nah, man, don't even worryabout it," he continued. "My sheets are crying out for the washer, and myroommate's are so stiff they could walk to the laundry room."

We shared a laugh, which soon trailed off intosilence. "So," Ryan sighed, "about this morning ..." My stomach knotted up again."Sorry about that."

I must've done a Looney Tunes-style double take."Sorry?" I asked, dumfounded.

"Yeah, man," he continued, staring at the floor. "Ididn't mean to embarrass you ... or your friend." If he only knew that Travis wasseemingly immune to embarrassment. He finally looked into my eyes and chargedon. "I just didn't want you to get in trouble. Like I said, I won't tellANYONE, I swear."

I briefly processed what Ryan said, and then finallyresponded, "I believe you, and I appreciate it. I'm kind of new to, um, that ..."I broke eye contact, then pressed on. "We got kind of carried away." I blushedagain.

Ryan laughed again. "Hey, man, I'm just glad SOMEONEis getting laid." He gave me a playful shove.

I chuckled. "What? I can hear bedsprings through thewall several nights a week." I didn't tell him that those noises frequentlyprovided the soundtrack to my jerkoff sessions.

He paused for a beat, and then let out another laugh."Man, that's my fucking roommate, Sean. He's not getting laid, he's justbeating his meat like it owes him money." I joined in his laughter. "He's sogoddamn horny, all the fucking time, he doesn't care if I'm asleep or not, hejust starts pounding his pud. I tell him he's going to break it off one day."

My stomach was beginning to hurt from the laughter. "Iwon't lie, I give my dick plenty of exercise," Ryan wheezed, "But I try to bequiet about it, and at least wait until I THINK my roomie's asleep."

I plopped down on my bed and leaned back, trying tocatch my breath. I always thought Ryan was nice enough (and undeniably cuteenough) from our brief interactions, but it turned out he was also hilarious. Iwiped tears from my eyes as Ryan peered around my room. Finally, he glancedtoward my crotch, and casually observed, "You've got an escapee there."

I quickly looked down and, sure enough, the fly of myboxers was gaping open, exposing my little semi-hard prick. I blushed again,and closed the gap. "Sorry!"

"Don't worry about it," Ryan said, still eyeing mycrotch. "Happens all the time to me. One of the pitfalls of boxers." He wasquiet for a few moments, then said, "Well, I just wanted to make sure we'recool."

"Yeah," I assured, smiling faintly. "We're cool."

"Well, then, don't be a stranger," he said as he headedback out the door.

I fell back on my bed, and my hand went instinctivelyto the fly of my boxers, where it lightly pinched the head of my thickeningdick. Normally, I'd not hesitate to jerk off before a nap; hey, it helped me torelax. But Travis changed even that. If I blew my load now, would it make melast longer later, or simply lessen my interest? What was an 18-year-old gayguy to do?

I suddenly had my answer: I kicked off my boxers, thenrummaged through my desk draw for a Sharpie marker before swiping the handlotion from my roommate's closet. Lying back on my bed, I put a glob of lotionin my hand before coating the Sharpie with it. Then, bending my knees andspreading my legs, I traced the marker down my taint until it found its target.Applying pressure, after a couple of tries, it slipped into my tight pucker. Ibriefly considered stopping to find a slightly larger object -- doesn't myroommate have a lint brush somewhere? -- before deciding this would have to do.I drove the marker in and out of my hole, moaning and occasionally whisperingTravis' name. My five-inch dick was throbbing, but I ignored it, insteadtugging on my nuts with one hand and fucking myself with the other.

I didn't really have an endgame in mind; I didn't wantto cum, I just needed to do what a I could to feed this craving. It wasn'texactly satisfying, but I doubted anything short of Travis' cock would be.Within 15 minutes, though, I'd fallen asleep like that, naked from the waistdown, and a marker wedged in my asshole.

The next thing I knew, there was a pounding at thedoor. I jumped out of bed, utterly disoriented. The Sharpie popped out of myass and landed on the floor. The clock read 6:17 p.m., so I realized it waslikely Travis. Grabbing a towel off my desk chair, I covered my nakedness andmoved to the door. "Travis?" I asked.

"No," a voice that was definitely Travis' answered."It's the FBI. This is a raid."

I opened the door to find him standing there, smiling,with a green shopping bag in his hand. He'd apparently gone home, because hewore different clothes and look refreshed. Hell, he looked hot. He walked pastme, and looked back at the towel pulled tight around my waist.

"Start without me?" he chuckled. He then glancedaround to see the bottle of lotion on the bed, and the discarded boxers and ejectedSharpie on the floor. "Wait, you did! You horny fucker!"

Travis put the shopping bag on my desk, and then gaveme the warm hug we both wanted this morning when we parted company. I returnedthe embrace, causing the towel to drop to the floor. His hands slid down togrip my bare ass. "Were you strokin', or finger-fucking yourself?" he whisperedin my ear.

I sheepishly admitted, "Well, not EXACTLYfinger-fucking ..."

He stepped back and with a broad smile declared, "Themarker? Nice." I started to retrieve the towel, but Travis said, "Nah, leaveit."

I felt exposed, with Travis fully dressed, and me wearingonly a shirt. He lightly tweaked the tip of my dick before stepping back to thedesk. Rummaging through the shopping bag, he beamed, "I bought you something!"

"What? You didn't have to," I answered, surprised thathe'd get me a present.

"Duh," he answered, rolling his eyes. "But I wantedto. I had to go shopping anyway." He then produced a three-pack of whitebriefs, Hanes, just like he wore. Travis nearly glowed as he handed them to me."Try them on."

They were mediums, which I was certain would be toosmall, but I relented. Travis watched intently as I stepped into the cottonunderwear. By the time they reached my upper thighs, they were a bit snug. Ilooked up at Travis and lamented, "I don't know ..."

"They'll fit, I promise," he answered, crouching downto offer assistance. He pulled and nudged the fabric over my little package andample ass, until the waistband snapped into place. They were indeed tight, butnot exactly uncomfortable. "See? Have a mirror?"

I nodded toward the closet, and Travis opened thedoor, revealing my reflection. These briefs left little to the imagination, butjudging from Travis' face, that's exactly what he envisioned. My balls andprick were bunched up in a neat package, and when he turned my lower half, Igot to see that my ass looked, well, pretty damned good. "Better than thosefucking boxers," he declared, and I couldn't argue with him.

Travis rubbed my cotton-encased buns as he assessedme, or maybe the both of us, in the mirror. "So, you think they'd hold itagainst us if we skipped the party tonight?" he asked with a smirk that let meknow he wasn't entirely serious. "We could stay here, smoke a bowl, and eatbananas." He playfully smacked my ass, and turned away. He flopped down on mybed as I began to rummage through my closet for something to wear.

We made small talk, sharing the events of our separatedays, but Travis perked up when he heard about Ryan's visit. "He probably wantsyour dick, K," he casually determined.

"What? No!" I blushed as I buttoned my shirt.

"All right, but I'm telling you," he said,confidently. "He wants the D."

"You haven't even met him," I laughed, pulling onkhakis.

"We'll see," Travis replied. "Just remember what Isaid." With that, he was finished with the conversation, and began makingpreparations to smoke a bowl. The towel stuffed under the door, and the windowopen, Travis settled into his perch on the heating/air-conditioning unit, andlit up. After taking a couple of hits, he held it out for me. I inhaled deeply,and coughed, before returning the wooden bowl to him.

"What else is in the bag?" I asked, spotting it on thedesk again.

"None of your business, nosy," he playfully replied."You may get to see, later ... if you're a good boy."

Following a few more tokes each, we primped in thecloset mirror, Travis making the final touches to my hair and then his own.Grabbing our coats, we headed downstairs and out the door to Travis' car,parked in a designated loading zone. As he started the engine, the GratefulDead blared on the stereo. I began to loudly sing along to "Bertha," realizingjust how high I was.

"You've got a good voice," Travis observed, making meblush. He adjusted the volume, then his hand came to rest on my knee.Distracted, I lost track of the lyrics, and resorted to humming along until Ipicked up again with the chorus. We drove like that, all the way to thefraternity house, with Travis gently, and repeatedly, squeezing my leg, andoccasionally joining me in song.

Travis found a parking spot about a block away fromthe house. Stepping out of the car, we smirked at each other as we paused toadjust our erections. Horny, tired and high, we marched together down thesidewalk toward the fraternity house, where music drifted up from the basement.

Inside we were greeted by an array of familiar faces,and some new ones. Additional fraternity members and alumni turned out for theparty, in no small part because the guests included their sister sorority, andan assortment of other young women. Although it was technically a "dry" event,in accordance with university rules, we quickly learned there were smaller,"private" parties being held in some of the rooms upstairs, where beer andliquor were plentiful.

Grant, one of the guys who accompanied us on thescavenger hunt, introduced me to gin and tonic, for which I rapidly acquired ataste. After the second glass, I looked around to realize that Travis had leftthe room. Already high, and now buzzed, I clumsily stood up from a beanbagchair, and carefully made my way downstairs, to the basement. There, dozens ofguys and girls mingled, and danced.

I wandered around the spacious room, acknowledging friendlyfaces as I went, until I finally laid eyes on Travis. He was dancing with anattractive blonde girl, who said something in his ear, and then laughed. She touchedhis face, his arm, his hip.

I froze maybe six or eight feet away from them, and mystomach churned. I felt as if I needed to throw up, but I knew I hadn't drunkTHAT much gin. It suddenly registered that I was jealous, although, even in mypot- and alcohol-induced haze, I knew I had no right to be. Nevertheless, Iwas, and I had to get out of there, immediately. However, before I could turn,Travis caught sight of me. He smiled broadly, and waved me over, only for hisexpression to abruptly shift as he realized something was wrong.

I turned, and as politely as I could, pushed my waythrough the mass of bodies, and bounded up the stairs to the first floor,losing my footing only once. I momentarily considered running out the door andback to campus, but instead headed to the second floor, to a bathroom. Luckily,miraculously, it was unoccupied. I locked the door behind me, and ran coldwater in one of the twin sinks. I splashed my face, trying to will myself notto cry or throw up. As upset as I was, I also felt ridiculous. After all,Travis and I barely knew each other; it's not as if were boyfriends. Hell, hemade it clear he's not even gay, at least not in the way I was.

I tried to control my breathing and reel in my racingthoughts when I heard a knock. "I'll be out in a minute!" I announced. Thefamiliar, muffled voice replied, "K? Keith? Let me in."

I didn't answer, but instead silently prayed forTravis to go away. He didn't, unfortunately. "OK, fine," he continued. "Butwhen people get pissed because they can't use this bathroom, I'm going to telleveryone you have the screaming shits."

Laughing, despite myself, I knew Travis would dofollow through on his threat, without giving it a second thought. I reluctantlyunlocked the door and opened it, allowing an obviously concerned Travis inside."What's going on?" he asked. "Did someone say something to you?"

I looked away, wiping at my runny nose with shirtsleeve. "No, it's nothing," I mumbled. "It's stupid."

Travis gripped my arm and turned me to face him. "Tellme who upset you. I'll kick his fucking ass." I briefly studied his face, andknew he was dead serious. I let out a weak laugh in response.

"We're not leaving here until you tell me whathappened," Travis insisted. "I don't care how many people need to take a shit."

Realizing he wasn't going to let this go, Isurrendered. "No one did anything," I muttered. "It's just me. I'm being ...stupid."

He cocked his head so that he looked like an adorable,inquisitive puppy. "I saw you with that girl, and I got jealous," I confessed,fearing I'd begin to cry. "I know I shouldn't be. We just met, I know you'renot gay ... I'm ... sorry."

Travis put a hand on each of my shoulders, andsqueezed, reassuringly. "Hey," he said, encouraging me to look at him. "Hername's Christie Waggoner. We've known each other since fourth grade. I think wemay have held hands once, on the playground, but that's it. She popped her headinto Grant's room, and I went out into the hall to say hi. We ended up goingdownstairs to dance, that's all. I would've told you all of that in thebasement, but ... you ran away."

He wiped my cheek and smiled. "Look," he continued, "Idon't know what's going on between us, but I like you, a lot -- and not justbecause you're good at sucking dick and eating ass." We both laughed. "Maybe I'mbi, maybe I'm just into you. Whatever." Travis pulled me close and spoke intomy ear, "But I'm not just hooking up with you until I find some girl who'llgive me head."

He licked my earlobe, and then planted light kisses downmy neck. I moaned, and Travis responded by grinding his crotch against me; hewas hard. Then, to my surprise, he pressed his lips to mine, almost chastely atfirst. But when I kissed back, he steadied my head with both hands, and pushedhis tongue into my mouth. Sure, I'd sucked Travis' cock, and we'd fingered eachother, but this was our first kiss, and it was incredible. I held him tighter asour boners rubbed together, and we explored each other's mouth.

The spell was broken by a pounding at the bathroomdoor. Travis simply yelled, "Occupied!" Barely missing a beat, he reached downto unbutton and unzip my khakis, and then tugged me toward the nearby toilet.Sitting on the seat, with me facing him, Travis pulled my pants and too-tightbriefs to mid-thigh, freeing my stiff five-incher.

"We can't --!" I protested, but he simply looked up atme with a grin. He gave my boner a couple of strokes before inching his facecloser. I was in disbelief, at first about his obvious disregard of the dangersof getting caught, but then about what he did next: He hesitantly licked thehead of my dick. I stifled a groan as he paused, as if to assess the task athand, before diving back in to lick all around the helmet.

"Fuuuuuuck," I moaned. Travis looked up with adevilish grin before taking the head between his lips. He gripped my bare assin each hand, and worked a finger between the cheeks. I somehow resisted theurge to thrust my hips. Although my dick wasn't big by any stretch of theimagination, I knew this was the first time he'd sucked one. Besides, this wasa first for me, too, and I wanted it to last. To hell with the people waitingto get into the bathroom.

I winced as Travis scraped his teeth along my dick,but I could endure the discomfort; the last thing I wanted was to discouragehim. Luckily, he had received enough head in his young lifetime to figure outthe technique, if a little clumsily, and he concentrated on tonguing the headand shaft, rather than attempting to take the (admittedly modest) length. Simplyseeing my prick between Travis' lips was nearly enough to drive me over theedge.

Another banging at the door caused me to jump. "Hurryup in there!" a girl's voice demanded. Travis pulled off my cock, and wiped hismouth with the back of his hand. "Just a minute," he replied in a singsongvoice that made me laugh. Looking up at me with a grin, he whispered, "You close?"I nodded, and he started stroking my spike in earnest. "Cum for me, K," hesaid. "Give me your fucking load."

I thought I was going to shoot as soon as those wordscrossed his lips. I could barely comprehend that Travis was sucking my dick, sothe idea that he might take my jizz never even crossed my mind. He took justthe head back in to his mouth, and jerked the exposed length with two fingersand a thumb.

"Oh-oh-oh fuck!" I panted. "Gonna cum, Travis!" Hislips closed tight over the tip of my dick as I unloaded three powerful blasts.Travis coughed but, to his credit, didn't remove his mouth. When my softeningprick slid out, cum spilled down his chin. He simply smiled and caught the tricklewith his fingers. He then stood and kissed me, releasing at least part of myload into my mouth. I felt as if I might faint.

Travis broke the kiss, and swiftly wiped the jizz fromhis lips and then from mine. "How'd I do?" he whispered. I caught my breath,and replied, "Fuckin' awesome."

He grabbed a piece of toilet paper, wiped the cum andsaliva from my cock, and helped me with my briefs and pants. With a flush ofthe commode and a glimpse in the mirror, to ensure there were no telltale signsof what we'd been up to, Travis unlocked and opened the bathroom door. Outsidewas a line of four or five people, both guys and girls.

"Sorry," Travis offered as we walked past the impatientcrowd. "My friend can't hold his alcohol."

To be continued ...