Providence Design and Art School

By Kenneth Rodman

Published on Jun 24, 2009

Gay

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The following story is entirely ficticious and not meant for minors, so if you are not an adult, do not continue.

My freshman was already in the room, unpacked and reading the Bible, when I arrived. He helped me hang stuff up and we chatted about ourselves. The school has a civilized tradition of rooming incoming freshmen with a sophomore to help getting him/her acclimated. His name was Kurt Mueller and he was a nice looking boy (hell, he was gorgeous!) about 5' 10", l70#, ash blonde with a pretty face and nicely filled out. Seems he was brought up in a strict, very religious (father a deacon in the local Lutheran church) household, an only child. His hometown was a little burg, Galena, IL, and his father owned a prosperous hardware store. He had won all sorts of art competitions throughout the state and had been recruited to PDAS and offered a scholarship even though financially he didn't need it. Having gotten organized and unpacked we returned to the only other room, a small study/sitting area, and found an invitation to the Annual PDAS Fall Mixer. The cost was ten bucks per person, the attire was toga (one sheet and the only other item of clothing allowed would be a belt of sorts), keg beer free and a DJ who would play until the beer ran out or 2AM, whichever came first. Kurt announced he would pass - didn't drink and had very rudimentary dance experience. I explained that it was important to get introduced to his classmates and that he would be much more comfortable in school after the party. So we went to the local burger joint for dinner, the dorm cafeteria was not open until tomorrow, I gave him a tour of the campus and kept badgering him about the mixer. By the time we got back to the room I had him convinced so we pulled a couple of sheets out of the closet, I had saved a couple of old neckties we could use for belts, and we proceeded to toga up. He got undressed with his back to me and insisted on wearing his boxers under his toga, which was a good sign: he was not above breaking some rules anyway. I was disappointed in not getting a look at his package, but it would be a long year and even though he turned me on bigtime, patience was all I could call on for now. But my dick was stirring just thinking about what he looked like under his sheet.

The entrance to the party had a desk where we paid our ten dollars and on the table was a large bowl of condoms. Kurt's eyes literally popped open when he looked from the condom tothe source of the music. Over the DJ was a banner: WELCOME Perverted Drunken Art Students! I wondered how the faculty would enjoy PDAS in that format, but this was not a gettogether for teachers, just students. The music was loud, the beer was flowing, the kids were dancing and everybody seemed to be having a good time. A rather plain girl plucked Kurt's toga and dragged him over to the keg and explained she didn't know how to work it. When next seen, he was carrying a beer for her and one for him. By midnight things were getting nicely raucus. Ken was dancing with a beer in his hand and a shiteating grin a mile wide. A lot of the togas had come off, most off the belts were thrown in the corner, guys were dancing with girls, girls were dancing with girls, guys were dancing with guys and the combination of the condom bowl contents being considerably depleted and the sounds coming out of some of the side rooms resembling sound tracks from porn flicks made one think a full time orgy was in progress. It wasn't much later when I realized I had to get Kurt out of there while he could still walk. He was thoroughly trashed and far too big to carry back to our room So I literally dragged him out. He still had his toga and belt on, I had my toga but the tie had gotten lost in the melee. And the loose toga felt good because it was a hot, sultry 90 degree september night. A full moon was giving enought light to read a newspaper by which made our stumbling progress possible. In the parking lot, a guy was leaning back against an SUV while his buddy knelt before him noisily sucking his cock. Kurt stopped dead in his tracks, mouth hanging open and stared. The sucker and suckee didn't apparently mind the audience and kept at it full bore. A very obvious tent in Kurt's pants indicated he was enjoying the panorama. Then the suckee pulled his member out and proceeded to squirt a major load all over the sucker's face, causing both to laugh uproariously. I was finally able to pry a tottering Kurt away from the scene but didn't get far before he announced he needed to find a tree. We did, he leaned up against it, turned his back to me, fumbled his dick out and proceeded to water the tree in sufficient quantity to keep the tree happy for a good while. Getting upstairs to the room was not an easy task and when we got there, Kurt tumbled on his bed, out like the proverbial light. The room was hotter than the hinges of hell and it would have been cruel to leave the kid to fry in his toga, so I removed his tie, unwrapped the toga and slid his boxers off. His poor balls were undoubtedly severely overheated, so as a good roommate should, I lifted his cock from them and laid it tenderly on his belly. Wow! This kid had a heroic wanger!

Sleep was all but impossible: the bright moon and the continued high temperature made for lousy sleeping weather. My naked, beautiful roomie two feet away didn't help either. I kept dozing, waking, longing, looking, dozing etc for hours. Then Kurt's moaning brought me wide awake. He was squirming, lying on his back and his cock was fully, beautifully, monstrously hard. OMG, it had to be at least a nine incher. And then it erupted. Thick jets of cream, arcing at least two feet in the air to land on his belly and chest. One after the other, at least ten big shots. Kurt let out a big sigh, rolled over onto his stomach and began to quietly snore. Needless to say, that left me with a raging woody and I went next door to the john, hoping a pee would settle it down. It didn't.

Sunday morning, I woke to find the kid on his knees by his bed. The faint smell of chlorine was still in the air. I asked what he was doing and he said, "Trying to remove the Devil from my soul."

"Why would you need to do that?" I asked.

"Because he was with me last night!"

"Why would you think that?" I said.

"Because he made my penis leak. It happens once or twice a week and it's a sure sign the Devil visited."

"You had a wet dream. A perfectly normal, natural thing! Who gave you the idea it had anything to do with evil?"

"That's how my mother explained it and she said it meant my soul was infected and only prayer could cleanse me."

"The way PDAS works, as you see, is that every freshman has an automatic "bigger brother". Big Brother says, we had a busy night and we need a shower and breakfast, over which I will give you a 101 level course in The Birds and The Bees, after which we will return here for a laboratory class."

"So, as I understand it, you have never had an orgasm in the conscious state, and as you now understand it, masturbation is not a sin, your father almost certainly does it as does every other normal, healthy male. But most important are the positive benefits of ejaculation: free, safe extreme pleasure which is a renewable resource. It is healthy for your prostate to turn over its fluid, as nature has shown you by its use of wet dreams. And finally, it is sometimes a necessary means to temporarily relieve intrusive erections and sexual fantasy when your mind needs to be employed with homework, exam taking and other mandatory activities. "OK, for this laboratory session in Human Sexuality 101, we must go to class naked. Now, stretch out on the bed and I'll show you the magic unloading trick. So, I see you have brought the necessary equipment to the lab.", Matt said, eyeing Kurt's erection and his own matching 8 inches of rock hard manmeat.

'This spot, under the head of the penis where it meets the shaft is the most sensitive area, usually. This gentle circular motion, or rolling the skin between your fingers feels awfully good. Ah, it must, because you're producing precum already!"

"What's "precum". That slippery stuff that drips out when I've been hard for awhile?"

"Yup, and it's tasty." said Matt, and he wiped off a few drops with the tip of his finger and licked it with a wide grin. "Oh, yeah, you taste good! Try it, you'll like it." Kurt hesitantly did, and apparently liked it a lot because he sampled twice more. "This is another good place, right behind the head, in the groove between the head and the shaft." said Matt as he slowly traced the groove with a wet finger. "And the whole head of the cock is very sensitive by itself." and he stroked that too. "But, the old standby is just stroking the whole animal" and Matt began a full cock stroking with one hand and then began rolling Kurts balls in his nutsac with the other. "Tell me how it feels."

"Just, ah, exquisite! I've never felt anything like... Oh, but, but, something's, oh I feel like somebody's blowing up a balloon inside, and, and it's going to pop. It's getting so tight! So, so. OH!"

KZZZZZAAAP! The boy felt a cramp like sensation behind and deep to his testicles. A delicious brief hard contraction, followed by a feeling of a solid object travelling outward from the root of his cock, burning it's way toward the glans, with a fnal indescribably beautiful sensation as the first load of boycum passed the crooked pathway through the tip . And a half dozen encores followed. OH! OH! OOOOOH. Oh, Oh, ooooooooooh GOD!

Matt kept a firm hand on the writhing boy's member, just behind the corona of his glans, felt every hard throb and thrilled to watch stream after sream of thick, creamy boycum arc through the air. Finally, with just a thin stream of thin, "dishwater" cum trailing down Kurt's cock, Matt leaned forward and licked from root to tip, enjoying the sweet taste. Kurt, finally came back to earth, openend his eyes and said, "Oh, Matt, that was a real glimpse of heaven! Is it like that every time? I want to do it again.!"

The boy was still fully tumescent, and probably capable of another orgasm, but Matt said, "Every time is a little touch of heaven, no two are the same, but you've shot off twice in six hours, and you could use a rest. On the other hand, I've had this woody for the same six hours and I need relief more than you!"

To Be Continued

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