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I was proud--maybe too proud--of what I'd accomplished with Christopher and Colin. Was that my downfall?
Christopher, had become a perfect cockslave. He would drop everything, shed all of his clothing, and work my dick in any orifice, in any setting, at any time, if I gave him half an invitation.
The other, Colin, had gone from being a "straight guy" to begging me to cum in his ass.
I relished my success for awhile. I knew they'd both be desperate for seconds (or twenty-firsts, in Chris's case), so I let them sweat it out. I got the usual pleas from Christopher over text, but I got some from Colin too--like these.
"Sir, you taught me a valuable lesson. I'd like to learn it again from you, at your convenience."
"Sir, I believe I might be a bottom. I hope you will give me a chance to find out with you."
"Please, sir. Let me suck your cock."
That was hot.
I did not answer, however, and this is where I, figuratively, blew it.
Because one day the texts stopped coming. I had been enjoying them so much--had always intended to get back to them, one day.
But then they stopped. And I was--again, figuratively--fucked.
What was I going to do, beg them to come back? Not my style. I would have to wait it out.
I'd get my chance again, I figured.
One day, as I was grading papers, I heard a familiar voice in the hall--an arrogant, detestable voice--the one belonging to Professor Will Masters.
Will had been a student of mine. A good student, actually. He was clever, did all the reading, had loads of opinions to share. He dominated the discussion group he was in, which I didn't mind--it meant that I had a lot less work to do during that section.
I'd even written him a recommendation for grad school. Now he was back on campus in a tenure-track position, and his arrogance knew no bounds. He was the hot young professor, just as I had once been. I was old news. He had the full attention of the department heads, the admiration of his fellow professors, rave reviews from his students. I just had a couple of hot young fuckbuds. Correction: used to have.
What I heard him say was, I believe, intended for me to hear.
"...these two sophomores, one gay and one straight. And they're roommates!"
"No way," said his friend, a graduate student who was either mousy or weasel-y, depending on the angle.
So that's what had happened. Colin and Christopher--my boys--had fallen in with this weasel-fucker, Will Masters.
He can have all the academic honors in the world. He can be the hot shit on campus for a couple of years.
But he can't take my sexual conquests.
I began to plot my revenge.
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Will Masters. What a trash name for a professor. Did he earn a Masters degree? From an online university? Was his middle name B.A.'? That would make him Will B.A.' Masters, PhD.
Dumbass.
I entertained this and many other negative thoughts as I devised my ploy.
I invited Will to coffee. My treat. We sat in the student center, and I buttered him up with all the things you have to say to a hotshit young professor: "I was really taken aback by your recent paper!" "What a bold claim to make. Surely they're talking about this at the department in Princeton." Blah de blah blah. Too easy.
I could see that he knew I was setting him up, but I could see he was also enjoying it. So I carried on for a bit until his fragile ego reached `full.'
Finally he was full up, and it was his turn. "What about you, professor? What's exciting in your life?"
I saw his gambit, returned with mine. This game was too predictable.
"To be honest, not very much right now." I leaned in, spoke in a hushed tone. "I had these two students..." I looked over both shoulders. "...one straight, one gay. I had them trained as my hot little fuckbuddies."
Will Masters tried to hide a gleeful smile.
"Now they've disappeared on me. They don't write, they don't call. I haven't fucked anyone in a week and a half!"
(A week and a half really was a drought for me... I might not have made much of myself as an academic, but as a lothario, I had a... well-endowed position.)
Will jumped in, attempting to play it casually. "These boys... they aren't by chance named Chris and Colin, are they?"
I feigned shock.
"You know them?!"
"The `Killer C's'? I've been fucking them for a week straight! Hell..." He leaned in, whispered. I'm surprised he could speak, he was so goddamn gleeful. "...they're probably at my apartment right now... waiting for me!"
"No goddamn shit."
"No goddamn shit."
I congratulated him, told him to give them a good hard fuck for me tonight. And I invited Professor Will Masters to join me tomorrow for a drink at my place so he could regale me with the tales of his sexual prowess.
And the game was on.
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I had some A/V work to do to take full advantage of my "friend" Professor Will Masters.
I put one camera in the living room--just one of my old iPhones, concealed inside a traditional African mask. (You really can't be a professor if you don't have a traditional African mask.)
I set up two more in the bedroom: a GoPro on the headboard for the close-up and my Canon on a sidetable for the wide shot. I set my digital voice recorder up near the headboard too.
This should make for quite a movie.
Next, I poured the vodka bottle into a Sprite bottle and refilled the vodka with water.
I put lube in the places where we'd need it, and I pressed record on the cameras.
Ready for you, Professor Masters.
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I think Will had had a drink before he came over. He was loose, buoyant, on top of the world. That motherfucker was, I hate to say it... happy.
Not for long.
It was 9pm. We crashed in the living room. I sat him in the spot where I had taken Colin's virginity. I offered him a drink. An bourbon Old Fashioned for Will. I poured myself a `vodka martini.'
He began to regale me with his tales.
"This kid, Christopher, man, is he talented. You should see these blowjobs he's giving me. I mean, I'm sure he was good when you had him, but now? He's unbelievable! It's like he was born to suck my cock."
"Remarkable." I said.
"And Colin? You say he's straight, but I beg to differ, especially after the hot fucking I gave him last night. He was begging for it, more, deeper, harder."
"And could you give it to him?"
Masters looked up, unsure whether to read an implicit insult in my question.
(Of course there was an implicit insult in my question.)
"Oh yeah! I gave it to him deeper, harder."
"And did he keep begging for it?"
"Oh yeah, he did. Afterwards he thanked me, called me sir. Said he'd be ready to be fucked again as soon as I was ready to fuck him."
"That's hot, Will."
"Hell yeah, it is."
"How do you know them?" I asked.
"They're in my comparative literature class. Seminar. I get to stare at them and send them telepathic mind fucks during class."
We paused for a moment. "Let's have another drink."
"Absolutely! Let's get drunk... I can fill you in on some of the naughty bits."
Oh, Professor Masters... what a dumbfuck you are. That you think that any of your `naughty bits' can compare. Or that you invented them in the first place.
Before the night is through, though... I can teach you a couple of new ones.
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We had another drink, then another. I had to feign both drunkenness and interest in his tedious sex stories. He had not even begun to scratch the surface with these boys and what they are capable of.
That was for another time, though. Now it was machination time.
"I gotta be honest, Will... your stories have me pretty horned up. What if we... what if we made a bet?"
"A bet? Tell me more."
"We play a game of poker. Loser has to do something--one thing--for the winner. No limits."
I could see his wheels turning, trying to think of what I might want, what he might want from me. Drunk as he was and simple as he is, he thought I would ask for another shot at the boys. Meanwhile, he was thinking of asking for something devious, like having me watch him fuck them.
"Deal."
We shook hands.
I grabbed a deck of cards and a stack of chips. Texas Hold `Em. I played tight, a big predator waiting for the right moment to strike. I folded hands that could have won and waited for the one that would definitely win. When I had a pair of Kings and Will Masters raised aggressively out of the gates, I seized my moment.
"I'm all in, Will."
"Call." It's too bad the camera could not capture his crestfallen look when he saw my Kings up against his Jack-10.
I turned another King on the flop. Just to add insult to injury.
Will leaned back, pissed, in disbelief. It took him a second to regroup, then he came back to the table.
"OK, what do you want? You want another shot at the boys?"
"Nope."
"What do you... what do you want, then?"
"I want to fuck you until I cum inside your sweet little ass."
"Wait. What?!"
Will's alarm state went to Defcon 1.
"Yes, I'm going to fuck you, Will. I'm going to fuck you right now."
As Will's drunken gears spun, I continued. "You shook on a bet with no limits and lost. Second, you admitted that you're fucking students who are in a class of yours--in fact, I have you saying that on tape." I pointed towards the African mask and the lens peeking out of it.
"So you can renege if you want. It'll just mean losing your job."
Will came back strong. "But you're fucking them too. And I know that at least one of them is in your class. So if I go down, you go down too."
"Yes, Will, but you're missing the point: I don't give a fuck. I would be happier digging ditches than teaching sorority girls. But you... think of all you have to lose."
Will fell silent. He knew I had him.
His posture changed--his shoulders dropped, his eyes got wet, looked downward.
"How do you want me?"
"Get me ready."
I gestured to the spot between my legs, the same spot where Christopher had nursed my cock for the first time. He clambered between my legs. I pulled my pants down.
"Smell it." I instructed him. He stuck his nose in my thatch, took in the odor. I didn't just want to fuck him, my rival--I wanted him to love getting fucked, to need to get fucked by me again.
He took it in. He wouldn't look up at me, and that was fine. I could tell it turned him on to smell a man like me.
"Give it a kiss." I told him. I already had a drop of pre-cum, probably from dreaming about this about five minutes ago. He kissed my cockhead, drew his lips back, a stream of pre-cum dangling between my dick and his lips.
"How does it taste?" I asked.
He licked his lips. "Pretty good," he admitted.
Guys like Will? Fake arrogant guys, young tops? They really just need someone to put them in their place. If someone can credibly tell them to lick the pre-cum off your dick, they'll happily do it. They'll say thank you afterward.
"OK, taste my dick now."
He moved his mouth over my thickening member. He slid it in his mouth, began working it right away. Man, he really wants to get me off! I thought. I let my cock grow fat and hard as he worked it steadily. I gave him some encouragement.
"You can really suck cock, sweetie. I think you were born to have a dick in your mouth."
He looked up at me with as much resentment as you can muster when you're sucking another man's dick.
He slid my dick out, held it in his hand as he asked me a question: "Are you ready to fuck me now?"
"Not yet, baby, but I'm getting close."
I had one more surprise for him--I really was getting close. I have tremendous control over when I cum. I allowed an orgasm to rear up quickly for me. I played it cool. Didn't say a word, consciously controlled my breathing until...
"UHHHHHHhhhhhh!!!!"
I blew my load into his mouth--a warm, thick load of cum right in his cocksucker mouth.
I surprised him so badly that I shot twice in his mouth before he pulled off. He fell back on his hands. I stood up and shot the rest onto his face as he sat there, not sure if he was more angry, surprised, or ashamed.
I milked the last dribbles of cum onto him, rubbed my dick on his forehead for emphasis.
When I came to, I paid tribute to his skills. "You can really suck a dick, baby girl."
"What the fuck was that, man?"
"That was a sweet, hot blowjob. From your lips to my dick."
"Now we're even, then."
"Oh no, little boy. The deal was that I get to fuck you."
He knew before he made it that his excuse was bullshit.
"And the good news is that I now I can fuck you longer, harder, and deeper than I could have before you gave me that luxurious suckjob."
He got up, scrambled to the restroom. That's fine, I thought... he can probably use some time to regroup.
When he came out, I was waiting for him in the bedroom. Now it was time to complete his task for the evening: take my dick up his ass until I cum.
I myself had one last goal to accomplish too, one I could only achieve through a thorough, professional fucking of Will Masters: I wanted him to beg for it.
This one I couldn't force him to do. But I might be able to get him there.
We'll see.
"Ass up, face down."
This is a fun way to get them started: they can focus exclusively on the feeling of having a man deep inside of them.
I lubed my hand, worked his ass with my fingers. Then, keeping my fingers in his ass, I slid around to the front of him. I popped my dick into his mouth--now needing him to get me ready again, ha! My fingers up his ass and my member in his mouth, I pulled roughly on his ass to drive myself deeper into him and to force his mouth onto my cock.
I'm pretty sure no man had ever handled him in that way. He began to find a rhythm.
Once I could drive two fingers into him with ease, I told him to swing his ass around.
"I'm going to fuck you up the ass now, Will."
I aimed his face towards the camera in the headboard--he was too drunk and now cockhungry to notice it. When I look back at the footage, it's a beautiful thing--his face is right in the camera. I love that shot--the one of the bottom's face as he derives pleasure solely from the cock that's inside of him.
I laid my cock on top of his asscrack, worked his asscheeks with my hands. "You ready, bitch?"
"Ready."
I slid my cock to his entrance and began to glide in.
I lubed up some, but not too much--I wanted to make him feel it, feel every ridge of my dick as it entered him.
I got to four inches deep before he cried out, "ahhghhh!" Yeah. You'd feel that way too if a fat eight-incher was insistently riding up your backside. I slowed down, but kept pressing, trying not to cause him to black out from the pain but pressing him hard enough to remind him he was being violated.
After a minute, I slid tightly past his second sphincter. "Relax, baby girl, you're doing great." Will Masters whimpered.
Six inches, seven inches.
Jesus, he's really tight.
I pushed that last inch in. My pubes nestled up to his no-longer-virgin ass.
(He probably wasn't an anal virgin, honestly... I bet he played all sorts of faggot games with his high school boyfriend. But I was pretty sure he'd had one this big inside him.)
My hands snug on the round outside of his ass, my front pressed against his rear, his ass wrapped tightly around my entire eight inch cock--this is exactly where I wanted Will Masters.
"How does it feel, sweetie?"
"Mmmmphh." His face was muzzled into the pillow.
I slapped his ass, hard, almost as hard as I could.
His head shot up in agony.
"How does it feel, bitch?"
"OHHH!"
"You've got a real man inside you now."
He moaned loudly.
"I want you to tell me: how does it feel?" I bumped into him harder, just to nudge his insides a little.
"Amazing... it feels amazing."
Hard to say whether Will knew I would not stop until I got an answer, or if it really did feel amazing. Probably some of both, to be honest.
I persisted. I really need this shot for my video.
"Say it as a sentence."
"Feeling you inside me... getting fucked by a real man... feels amazing."
"You know it does, bitch."
Now I started to fuck him. I gave him just a couple of inches at a time, a reminder that he was the female and I was the male. I pumped into him--bam, bam, bam--steadily and surely, slapping his ass loudly as I found a pace that I liked.
Will's moans started to sound like pleasure-moans.
"You've got a tight, hot pussy, baby. I'm gonna love fucking it."
"Mmmmm!" Did Will know I meant "fucking it in the future and not just tonight?" I bet he did. I bet he wanted it.
I started to long-dick him, sliding four, five inches out, then ramming it home. He yelped like a little bitch every time I hit his backwall.
"Don't cry yet, bitch--we're just getting started."
"Let me fuck you like a woman now."
I pulled out. Will rolled onto his back, quiet as a church weasel.
His dick was so hard it pressed up against his abs. "Not a bad dick, Will!" It was six-and-a-half thick inches. "Hard as a rock, too."
Will reached down, grasped his hard dick. "No." I grabbed his wrist, pulled his hand away. "You can cum once I do."
I lined my dick up against his slickened asshole. I rode into him, watching his face as he got filled up again. The way he bit his lip while closing his eyes read like pain mixed with pleasure.
Once I was all the way inside, he opened his eyes. This was the dynamic now: I was on top, and he was on bottom. There would be no negotiation, no "flipping." I would give him my dick. He'd learn to take it.
I started to slide in and out again, kept up my psychological warfare: "Mmm... that pussy of yours makes my dick feel so good." "I could fuck this pussy all day, baby." He started to take some pride in it, his pussy.
I decided to give him some feminine pleasure. I rode my dick out onto his prostate, started pumping hard onto that spot. "OhhhhhhhHH!" he moaned, over and over again. I don't think he'd really ever been fucked properly. That must be why he thinks he's a top, I thought.
I kept riding his hotspot. I wanted to take him to a new level.
He moaned, writhed. His dick was hard but he paid it no attention. This was a different feeling, a deep, inside feeling that you can only enjoy through being penetrated.
I worked his spot, over and over. That feeling crested, hit a feverish plateau. Will Masters moaned and cried out longingly, like he was getting the perfect amount of dick but could never get enough dick ever.
I took it back a notch, started sliding back in all the way. Will came back into lustful consciousness. He gave me a hungry look.
"What do you think, Will?"
"I want you to fuck me like an animal."
"Get back on your hands and knees. I will fuck you like you'll never be fucked again. So you can't walk straight."
He flipped onto his hands and knees. I put my dick into him hard, took a quick rhythm.
"Tell me what you want, baby."
"I want your big dick up my... pussy."
"Say it again, baby."
"Fuck me like a bitch."
So I did--I fucked him like a bitch. I took his ass fast and hard, just as I wanted to.
It was up to him to adjust his body so I didn't hurt him. He wiggled his ass around just right, arched his ass upwards to give me an amazing angle. I pressed his head down into the mattress. I slammed him properly.
I reached underneath him, tugged downward on his balls. I ran my hand over his cock. He moaned so loudly I thought he might be cumming.
That turned me on so much that I let him have it full-on now. My thick cock was ready to burst inside of him.
I grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled his head up.
"Where do you want me to cum?"
"Cum inside me. Shoot your load inside my pussy."
"Oh fuck yeah."
I started shooting as I kept fucking him. As I moaned, I heard him start to moan too--fuck, he was cumming just from getting fucked!
I hammered my load inside him, pressed it deeper with each pump. I guess it was a fat load, though I never saw any of it since I left it all eight-plus inches inside him.
He left a huge load spattered all over my bedspread. Eh, that's what bedspreads are for, right? His legs were shaking as I pulled out. He stayed prone on his hands and knees for several minutes... from the pain, the pleasure, or the shock? Hard to say.
I slapped his ass. "Hot fuck, baby. Thanks for a fun night."
Gradually, Will put himself together. He never said a word. He gingerly got dressed--I could see him wince as he pulled up his briefs.
He excused himself, a shamed slut.
I had one last thing to do. I cut the video together, stripped it down to the core highlights:
"I want you to fuck me like an animal."
"Fuck me like a bitch."
"Shoot your load inside my pussy."
I uploaded it to my private PornHub, sent a link to the boys. I ordered a 20-inch double-headed dildo.
"Here's your top, boys. Come over on Tuesday and I'll give you your punishment."
Hope you enjoyed. If you have any thoughts or responses, or you shot your load. Or maybe you see yourself as Will Masters. Whatever: write to me at jack.straight@hotmail.com.