I spent my last two summers at college working as an orientation counselor for incoming freshman, transfer students, and catering to their parents (you know ... making them feel that their children were not going to drink, smoke, have sex, and that their kids would go to every single class every single day. Basically, I lied to their face.)
One of the best things I liked about the job was the chance to check out the incoming freshmen prospects. Shaggy-haired, slim-waisted, polo-shirt-and-cargo-short wearing guys running around wide-eyed and bewildered at the new surroundings awaiting them: dorms and cafeterias and the quad and such. Every summer there were at least half a dozen that would fill my masturbatory fantasies for the next six months.
So basically I was the cool junior or senior who tossed the Frisbee, gave tours to, taught how to build a class schedule, and answered the "tough questions" about drug and alcohol use on campus. By the time I was an upperclassman, I was pretty well-known on campus, and this job definitely helped my reputation.
One of the rules our bosses told us was to never, under any circumstances, become physical with a student you're hosting around campus. For the most part it was an easy rule to follow. There were four or five guys that I would have easily risked my job for, but they talked incessantly about their girlfriends (read: hetero. Damn.) so making a move wasn't in the cards.
All that changed when I met Mark.
Mark was beautiful: 18, smooth, white skin, short hair, baggy shorts, backwards hat ... pretty much the stereotypical frat boy. He was from a neighboring town, so there wasn't much for him to travel to campus. We hit it off immediately, talking about music of the time (Foo Fighters, A Perfect Circle, Smashing Pumpkins) and favorite television shows ("Family Guy" and "South Park") and girls (I was -- and still am -- pretty skilled at piquing straight guys' interests by checking out girls with them). In fact, he hit it off quite nicely with another girl in my group.
By the end of the second day, I had learned a lot about him, his family, and his love life. We were becoming pretty decent buds by that point (well, as decent of buds as you can be after knowing each other for 36 hours). Also, he admitted to me away from the group that, while he had smoked pot from time to time, he had never drank alcohol (apparently one of his parents was an alcohol of some sort. But let's not dampen the mood here).
That night I heard some stumbling in the dorm hallway where we were all staying. Surprise, surprise, it was Mark drunk off his ass.
"Heyyyyy Joshhhhh," he slurred at me. "I snnnnuckk into a frat party tonight."
"Mark, shut your ass up and get in here," I whispered sharply, pointing to my room. "You'll get us both in trouble if you get caught drinking out here."
He stared at me through half-vacant eyes, twisted his lips into a smile, and staggered through my door.
"You moron," I said with a smile. "I thought you didn't drink."
"Buuuut ... you don't undersssstand," he muttered. "There were girlsssss therrrrre. Hhhhhot girrrrls."
"Yeah, we call them 'sorostitutes.'"
"And they wannnted ssssexxxxx."
I laughed at him. "No they didn't, Mark. They just wanted to make fun of the new kid."
And I might have taken it a step too far at this point, as Mark looked genuinely hurt. "You thhhhhink?"
Quickly I realized my mistake and changed my course of action. "No, dude, I'm just messin' with ya. You're a pretty good looking guy. I'm surprised you even got into a frat party. Normally they only let any non-frat bros in 'cause you'd just take up all the pussy."
(I shuddered internally upon saying "pussy." Don't most gay boys?)
A broad smile spread across his face. I could smell the tequila on him from across the room.
"Yeah, and I could have got lotsss of pusssssy too."
"Damn skippy, brah. Hot pussy with big ol' titties."
(I shuddered again.)
"Fuck yeah," he said, then slumped back into the bed he was sitting on. He thought a moment, then looked pointedly at me and said a little too clearly, "When was the last time you got laid?"
"About two weeks ago. I was at a party and was drinking. We made eye contact across the room and flirted for about 15 minutes before I went over and introduced myself. We ended up fucking in the bathroom down the hall. It was so hot hearing the muffled sounds of our sweaty, sloppy sex set against a backdrop of music blaring outside the door."
(I was careful not to use any pronouns. I didn't want to tip my hand too soon.)
Mark started to get a little stiff in the front of his shorts. That's when my plan went into action.
"Here," I said, pulling out my laptop. "Take a look at this."
I double clicked a straight porno I had downloaded off our dorm's shared server for these occasions: hot college guys fucking drunk college girls who didn't know they were being videotaped. It was a pretty hot video, even if you did have a girl in there.
"Check out her tits," I said, pointing to the screen. Mark stared and didn't say anything. His hand started to absent mindedly rub the front of his pants. I did the same, subtly at first, but allowing my movements to become more and more pronounced.
"And her pussy. God that must be all tight and warm."
"We should turn that off," Mark said. "I'm getting a little too horny."
"So?" I replied. "This is college. We're all horny here all the time."
"Yeah, but I kinda want to jack off now."
"... And? When you live with a bunch of guys around you all the time, you'll see that guys jack off together all the time. It's no big deal."
Mark drunkenly thought this over. I could see the cogs slowly churning inside his head, and saw my opportunity to speed things up. "It's not gay," I lied to him.
His self-groping became more intense. "Ok," he said. "But turn the lights off."
I gladly complied. As I sat back down I unzipped my fly to haul out my 7-inch cut dick. Mark stared at it openly.
"Never seen one hard before?" I ask.
"Just my own. And porno dicks."
"Well, what do you got under there?"
He pulled his cargo shorts down to his ankles and pulled his dick through the fly of his boxers. 'Holy shit,' I thought as his 8.5 inches sprang forth. It was all I could do right there to not bend over and deep throat the little fucker.
"Not bad," I said nonchalantly, trying desperately to hide my lust. I concentrated back on my own cock, taking glances from time to time as his impressive tool.
After about ten minutes of stroking, Mark turned to me and said, "Man, a blow job would feel amazing right now."
"Oh yeah?"
"Fuck yeah. Some girl tonguing my nuts and caressing my shaft. I could really go for one right now."
"Yeah that does sound nice."
I paused, waiting for him to make the next obvious move.
"Do you ... I mean ... I'll do you if you do me?"
"HELLS YEAH!' I thought to myself. "Ok, but you do me first. I don't want you chickening out after you cum."
This 18-year-old freshman god got to his knees on the cold linoleum and cautiously wrapped his hand around my cock. He examined it, came in close, and finally tentatively reached his tongue out licked my head. Slowly and surely he worked his throat down over it, gagging slightly, but overall giving decent head.
"Watch the teeth," I had to tell him from time to time, as this was obviously his first time sucking dick (and, let's face it, the first time is never pretty, despite what other Nifty stories might tell you).
I wanted to reach down and grab his little ringlet hair and push and pull my cock in and out of his face. I wanted to pull my raging boner our and smack it across his rosy-red, blemish-free cheeks. I wanted to lay him down on the bed, straddle his chest and face fuck the little freshman until he got to his upper-divisionals.
But I didn't want to scare the little fucker off. So I kept up the requisite "Yeahs" and "oooh babys" and whatever else you say when you're trying to encourage someone who's sucking you off. And after about 15 minutes, I pulled out and told him it was his turn.
Mark, on the other hand, wasn't as gentle as I was. And I loved it. He was rough, partly because of the booze, partly because of his inexperience, and partly because, well, I think he just likes it rough. He grabbed my hair and pulled my face up and down his dick. I had to wrap one hand around the base of his cock so he wouldn't choke me repeatedly on the downstrokes.
"Fuck yeah, bitch. You like that cock?" he muttered. I glanced up and his eyes were glued to the porno; it was pretty obvious he was imaging some sorority girl on her knees in front of him. Frankly, I didn't care. When a hot boy is all into you sucking him off, I take it as a high compliment.
After a few minutes, Mark looked down at me. I think it hit him that there was a dude down there -- beyond that, a dude he looked up to and respected. He slowed down and apologized, saying the porno was too hot and he just got way into it.
"No worries, dude," I said. "It's a hot porno. I watch it all the time."
After that, we went back to awkwardly resuming our mutual j/o session. Eventually he asked me if I'd ever done anything else with a guy at college.
"Sure," I said. "Sometimes this, I've given head ... I've even fucked a football player a few times."
"Which one?" he asked, shocked and curious as to which Division 1 footballer I'd plugged.
"He made me promise not to tell. And he'd kick my ass if I did."
"So ... you fucked him?"
"Yeah. It was pretty intense. He loves the feeling of cock inside him."
"Have you ever been fucked?"
"Yeah."
"How does it feel?"
"It's different. It's pretty painful at first, but after a while it's just ... intense. I can't really describe it."
We jacked off for a bit more, sitting next to each other. He adjusted his leg so it was atop my own. I put my arm around his shoulders. Breathing heavy, we hands worked in alternating rhythms to bring us closer to orgasm.
"Do ... you ... want to fuck me?" he asked.
I laughed off my eagerness. "Sure, if you want. I'm pretty fucking horny right now."
"So, like, what do I do?"
"Just bend over on your knees. I'll tell you what to do next."
So this gorgeous freshman gets on his hands and knees against the cold hard floor, sticking his ass out like a common piece of gutter trash. His hole was smooth, hairless, and just right for plucking.
"Here," I said. "Suck my cock for a sec."
He did, giving it most of the lubrication I would need. I had to spit in my palm a little to finish the job up, but even then I was afraid I didn't have enough.
"You ready?" He shook his head yes. I could see in the closet mirror that he was gritting his teeth and scrunching his face together, preparing for impact.
"Ok," I said. With one hand on his right shoulder and the other hand guiding my dick towards his hole, I slowly slipped into him. I got about halfway in and asked how he was doing. He gave me a very breathy and whiny "I'm OK ... keep going." So I did.
When I was balls deep into him, I checked in again. He was whimpering pretty loudly, but was a trooper. "I'll go slow," I said, to which he replied with a herky-jerky nod.
I moved my hand to his hips and started pulling him back into me as I pushed into him. The warm, tight sensation of his virgin ass was heightened all the more with the sound his dogged, heavy breathing filling the room, with girly squeals and moans punctuating the soundtrack.
"Are you ready? I'm gonna go a little faster." He nodded, gritted his teeth, and beared down. I moved my hand from his shoulder to his other hip and being to fuck him in earnest.
Oh my God the noises that boy made. It's a wonder we didn't wake up the entire floor with all the moaning and panting, grunting and groaning, cooing and expletives that were flying around the room.
I too found myself getting into it. "You like taking this senior's cock up your ass, kid?" I asked him. "Yesssss sirrrrrr," he responded.
THWACK! I smacked him on his left cheek.
"Don't call my sir. Say my name."
"Yesss ... Josssssh."
And that sent me into another realm. This freshman was getting fucked, and he damn well knew exactly who was fucking him. And he was loving it. I pushed my weight onto him, making his elbows give beneath him. I pinned down his 155-pound frame and humped my raw, hard cock into his slowly expanding ass.
I grabbed him by the back of his hair and pulled his head back. "You like that? Does that feel good?"
Through his pants and moans he managed to muster out a breathy and extended "Yesss .... Jossssh. Fuckkkk yeah."
That's when I really set to town, rabbit fucking this freshman for all he was worth. I hadn't realized it, but we were slowly moving our way across the floor (my God what burns that linoleum must have given his knees). With each plunge I made into his body, he scooted a little further towards the spare bed. Before you knew it, the top part of his body was under the bed, leaving his lower back, spread eagle legs and tight rosebud exposed. All of the sudden, unable to see his face or head, the freshman became an anonymous fuckhole. Up until this point I was being caring and cautious, knowing this was his first time. But when you remove the sense of companionship or identity? All bets are off, man.
I pulled his ass up, backed him up on his knees a little, the railed him. Hard. Full shaft. Repeatedly. I heard some indistinct yelps and whimpers beneath the bedframe, but they weren't enough to pull me out of my lust-induced stupor. I was wailing on his poor little ass. After six or seven strokes I started to slow down. His hands come out from under the bed and awkwardly grasped at my torso. I figured this was his way of telling me to stop, that he's had enough, so I started to decrease my tempo.
But no. He grabbed my ass and thrust me back into him. The knowledge that a little virgin freshman was craving my cock to no end sent me over the edge. I blasted what seemed like quarts of jizz into him, moaning and cursing the whole time. Afterwards I pulled out and slowly removed him from under the bed. As he flipped over, I saw his belly was also smeared with cum ... apparently I wasn't the only one who found the whole situation intense.
"Are you all right?" I asked him, out of breath and trying to not get caught up in the afterglow.
"That hurt like hell," he said. "But you were right ... it was so fucking intense. Wow."
I smiled at him. "So you enjoyed it?"
"Hell yeah. Just, like, don't be so rough next time."
"Next time?" I asked, arching my eyebrow.
We ended up exchanging e-mails and keeping in touch for the rest of the summer. When he came back to campus in the fall, we fucked pretty regularly for the first couple months. I thought about dating him, but was going to let him bring it up if he was interested. He never did, which I expected: freshmen have too much to experience their first year at college, and a relationship with senior usually doesn't work out well.
After winter break, he came over to my apartment and asked if I'd be his boyfriend. I said yes, and we had the most intense sex I've ever had (and, yes, he fucked me just as hard as I did him that first night. I'm not normally a bottom, but there were days were I was craving his 8.5-inch fuckstick.)
Four months later we called it off: I was graduating and moving and he, well, it turns out he was just too immature to hold a relationship beyond that of fuck-buddy (don't get me wrong ... I wasn't complaining at all).
Last I heard Mark was finishing up his senior year and planning on going to grad school for higher education after that. I moved to the city and got a corporate 9-to-5 job, and became pretty prominent in the local gay scene. During many of the inevitable drunken hook-ups over the years, I found myself relieving the first time I fucked Mark to "get the juices flowing," as it were (we've all had sex when drunk ... it's not always easy, if you know what I mean). Every time I think of that little 18-year-old's cargo shorts around his ankles, bent over in front of me, moaning like a little girl -- well -- I never cum as hard or as loudly as when I run that little scenario in my head.
All I have to do is make sure I don't yell out "Mark" during.