Something About Dan

"Something About Dan 1/2" (M/M) (Coll) (Humiliation) (Oral) (Anal) (Navelplay) (Love!)

WARNING: This story contains graphic depictions of sex between two (young) adult males. If you don't like that stuff, or if the laws of your state, city or country prohibit you, because of your age or for any other reason, from reading sexually explicit stories like this, then stop now!

Some parts of this story, like many good stories, actually happened. Some are fictional. What's true and what's not are for me to know and for you to enjoy (hopefully). Names and small details have been changed to protect the guilty.

This is my first story. Email me at: tma4@hotmail.com with criticisms/comments/questions!

SOMETHING ABOUT DAN 1/2

VISIONS OF DAN

I live in Northern California now, but a few years ago I was living in L.A., land of movie stars, traffic insanity and loads of awesomely cute young dudes, in a small house in West L.A. proper. At that time I considered myself bisexual, but hadn't had nearly as much sex as I wanted (with either gender). It wasn't that I was bad-looking. In fact, I was flirted with by both genders nearly every day. I was well-tanned, and worked out enough. Green eyes, buzzed dark brown hair. I was kind of on the slender side, but toned enough. A little chest hair. I was worried `cause I was 25, and, well, shouldn't I be getting more? But then, are there any guys except porn-stars that actually do get enough? And though handsome, I wasn't porn-star material with my 6.5" dick. Even if it'd been bigger, I wasn't a slut...

Anyway, there I was, living in a small house on a treeless L.A. street, with beautiful brown L.A. grass and a lot of L.A. concrete to spice up the scenery. Anybody who's lived there will know what I mean.

At the beginning of June my roommate and friend Michael told me he was moving back to Vancouver, B.C., where he had grown up. After five years in L.A. he'd had enough and wanted to be near his family again. This even after he'd finally gotten his green card! I was pretty crushed because Michael was my best friend at the time. We'd been roommates for over three years. Fortunately I'd never fallen for him, but he was older than me, and I usually get crushes on younger guys.

I realized I had to get a roommate if I was going to keep living in this place...two bedrooms for $1,000 but in L.A. everything was way expensive. I put an ad in the Santa Monica Outlook. Got a few calls over the next three weeks but no one particularly serious...I forgot to mention that flaky people are another integral part of the L.A. landscape...but you probably knew that.

Then one day I came home from work to find that another potential roommate had left a message. A cool, nonchalant masculine voice spoke: "Hey, this is Dan, and I'm looking for a room for the Summer. My number's _______. Later." I didn't know if it was possible to fall for someone by their voice alone, but if Dan looked anything like he sounded, I was going to be excited...and really nervous...to meet him. I called Dan back and found out he was a 19-year old UCLA engineering student (um, like, yum...). We agreed to meet late the next day. I didn't really want to rent out the room just for the Summer, but I would if I had to. Nobody else was calling, and I couldn't afford the rent by myself.

For some reason I couldn't get Dan off my mind that night. Michael was leaving in two days and I needed a roommate really soon. But I didn't know if I wanted to live with someone who would drive me crazy with lust, especially if they were straight. I'm kind of the obsessive type, and though I knew it at the time, I really had no idea how obsessive I could get until Dan moved in (but more about that later). Unfortunately, Dan sounded like a total breeder.

I lay in bed that night, as usual trying to relax by thinking of sucking off some guy, but I kept hearing Dan's voice. Globs of cum from an imagined 19-year old UCLA boner were shooting into my mouth and dribbling down the stubble on my chin as I fell asleep with visions of Dan.

The next night I came home from work to find Michael almost packed up and ready to go. I was supposed to take him to the airport the next day and felt pretty sad. Fortunately we were able to talk about stuff like this and I told him how I was feeling. He gave me a really big hug, said he'd really miss me too, and also said he'd probably come visit during the Winter when it was "cold as a witch's tit" in Vancouver. That cheered me up some. Michael said he was going out for an errand. That was cool with me 'cause I didn't want the distraction of him there with Dan coming over any minute.

Michael left and I sat looking out at the backyard. Then a knock at the front door. Wow, a punctual college kid. Rapid heartbeat. Palms kinda sweaty. Am I shaking a little? What's going on here, I haven't even met the guy.... Wipe my hands on my shorts. Open the door. There he is: oh my God, he...is...a...fucking...dreamboat...studpony. (This is definitely not the fictional part of the story.) Of course he wasn't anything at ALL like I'd imagined. I've still never really pictured someone correctly before meeting them, even when they give a detailed description.

Dan had a slender but toned build, and short black hair buzzed on the sides. His face was similarly slender, beautifully-proportioned, with dark brown eyes and a perfect nose (noses can make the man, you know?). But at 19, I could still see a slight boyish quality to his generally masculine features.

His beautiful olive skin seemed to be a mix of Caucasian and something else. For a minute I thought he might be Mexican, but I found out later that his father was from Peru and his Mom had Scottish ancestors...what a gorgeous mix. I found my voice. "Um, hey, I'm Tim," I sputtered. "Come on in." My throat felt dry.

"How's it going," said Dan. He was wearing a red baseball cap turned backwards. It's a cliched fashion now and was even then, but it still totally turns me on. He was obviously still at that age where looking cool was important. Somehow the idea of that turned me on even more. We shook hands. My palms felt sweaty again already and I hoped he didn't notice.

"Well, let me show you the place," I said. I led him into Michael's room and Dan looked around. He didn't seem like the picky type.

"$400 a month?"

"Yeah. I pay $600, but it's a bigger room."

"That's cool. Is there a deposit."

"Yeah. Last month's rent."

"OK."

As Dan looked around the room a final time, I noticed he was several inches shorter than me. I always liked that. I stared at the Pearl Jam concert tour T-shirt he was wearing. It seemed a size too small, and barely reached down to his jeans. Tight asscheeks. He turned around quickly to ask a question and I brought my eyes up to meet his. I was worried that he'd caught me staring at his tight teen ass. But he didn't say anything. After a few more questions, he said he definitely wanted the room. I said it was his, and he wrote a check for the deposit and said he'd be moving in the day after tomorrow, on Sunday.

"See ya, Dan. Nice to meet you."

"Later, dude." Yeah, I should have said that too. Why couldn't I be that cool? Maybe that's why I wasn't getting any. I stared out the window as he walked to his car. This cool collegiate boy looked like a baseball player, or maybe a swimmer, but I didn't know which. He probably got laid whenever he wanted it. He got into an old brown Mustang, revved the engine really loud (it was probably on its last legs) and drove off.

I sat down on the sofa and took a deep breath. Damn it all, I forgot to ask WHY he needed a room. What if he was trouble to live with? He better pay the rent on time; even his cute little ass wouldn't make up for being late on the bills.

Jesus, Tim, what have you got yourself into now?

INTERLUDE

The next day were the final goodbyes with Michael. I almost cried watching him walk on to the plane at LAX. I was in a really sad state. And now I had to deal with Dan.

THE WRESTLING PRACTICE

Fortunately it turned out that Dan was a pretty likeable guy. But he also had an attitude, even if it only showed in the occasional taunt at me. His normal expression had a faint trace of a punkboy sneer, but it could

brighten up into a beautiful toothy smile when I told him a good joke. He had quite the smile. But my worry about obsessing and lusting over this stunning UCLA boyman actually lessened a bit. Maybe we could just be friends, like me and Michael.

Dan did like his brew. His side of the frig was usually crammed with a six-pack or two, usually of Bud (he wasn't exactly a connoisseur). Since he was only 19, he must have had an older friend who kept him well-stocked. Just about every day after getting home from school he'd have a couple brews, and occasionally I'd have one with him. The first couple of weeks after Dan moved in he wasn't home too much since it was near the end of the Spring quarter. He seemed pretty stressed out by school. Occasionally I'd get up to take a whiz in the middle of the night and would see him trying to mellow out in front of the TV. Luckily he was also polite, and kept it down low.

But as the days and nights wore on, I realized that Dan was becoming, unintentionally, my primary sexual fantasy. Every night at bedtime I'd think of him. Unfortunately, sometimes I also woke up in the middle of the night thinking about him, and then nothing would get me back to sleep except getting out the hand lotion, sloshing it on my dick, and doing some serious rubbin'. I'd never done this before, but something about Dan made me do it: when I was close to sperming, I'd hoist my ass off the bed and point my rod at my face. As I creamed it all over my lips I'd be fantasizing it was Dan's collegiate cockhead gushing creamy spunkjuice all over me.

Yeah, right. Well, cumming served its purpose: it let me get back to sleep, even if I had to make sure I wiped off good first so I didn't walk out in the morning to greet Dan with a faceful of the dried nasty.

About two weeks after he moved in, and right in the middle of his finals week, I woke up in the middle of the warm June night (OK, I don't really remember the exact temperature of that night, but let's just say it was, well, warm). I heard some noises from the living room. I looked over at my clock: almost two in the morning. I needed to piss so I got up and stumbled out the door. At the entrance to the bathroom, which was in the center of the hallway just off the living room, I could see Dan's feet lying off the end of the couch. He was watching TV, a couple Miller cans beside him on the rug. (Occasionally Dan strayed from his usual Bud...daring.) I took out my dick, hanging half-hard over my frustrated nuts, and managed to piss after doing deep breathing for a minute. Looked back at Dan. Was he asleep? Was he fully clothed? I went out to the living room...Dan was staring blank-faced at the TV. Man, there were more than two beer cans...six, I think. He was drinking hard. How was he going to pass his exams like this? I nudged him on the shoulder. "Hey dude."

That did something, 'cause without warning, Dan reached out and circled his arms around the back of my knees, toppling me to the floor. (It wasn't hard because I wasn't fully awake.) In an instant he was on top of me. What was going on?! "Mmmfgh, Dan, what're ya doing, ya little fucker?" I was kind of mad, but though half asleep, couldn't help notice how good it felt to have him on top of me. In about five seconds flat he had me pinned on my stomach, and was sitting on my ass holding my right arm tightly behind my back, which kind of hurt. And he was shorter and definitely lighter than me! But then he loosened his grip and let me turn over. I glanced at his shorts and could swear I saw them twitch. My own dick stirred, half-hard again. Dan was sitting on my thighs, and if he'd looked down, he would have seen the bulge in my shorts. I took a deep breath to try to un-bone. Don't look down, Dan. Good thing I'd pissed or I would've been totally hard and there'd be no hiding what I felt for him.

I looked up at his face. He was just grinning at me, a smirky, fuck-you-you-wuss kind of look. It turned me on even more. I struggled to get out from under him before he would notice.

Luckily he didn't resist me, and I managed to roll away from him. He sat back down on the sofa.

"What'd you do that for?" I managed to whisper.

Dan smiled a cocky, almost insolent grin. "Practice, dude."

I was still breathing hard. But I got out "For...for what?"

"Wrestling practice, dipshit." He laughed. "I was on my high school team and I like to keep in shape. Use the moves or lose'em."

"Oh, uh, cool."

Dipshit? He must have been really drunk to call me names like that.

Dan crashed back on the couch. He was seriously brewed out. So this college boy who could be nice, could also be an aggressive young man after a few beers. His behavior would probably have pissed most guys off, but it just turned me on. But was it really just for wrestling practice? I wasn't all that muscular, and was probably skinner than he was. Not much of a match. Well, as he laid there and I pondered how to get back on my feet and back to bed, I thought to myself, you can wrestle me anytime you want, Dan-o.

Back in bed, I kept thinking about what had happened. Could he be a closet case? No way, my logical mind chimed back. So, what was going on?

In the morning Dan was still around (he usually left early for school way before I got up). As I came into the kitchen, he offered me some raisin bran. He told me he just had one afternoon final that day. "Hope I didn't freak you out last night, I was way wasted, ya know."

"Yeah, uh, no problem. It'll keep me on my toes." This young guy really was a man. He could drink a few beers and pin me down, and call me a dipshit, but he could also apologize. Well, kind of.

The week went slowly on but I only thought more about Dan, sometimes finding myself at work staring blankly into space thinking about him. My boss walked by and made a joke about it. Fortunately he was a cool guy who knew I was a good employee overall. I tried to focus on work, but that week there was always Dan, haunting me....

WATCHING DAN

The more obsessed I became with Dan the more frustrated I got at how modest he was. I'd never seen him with his shirt off, let alone nude. He'd been taking showers in the early morning to get to his first class, while I was still asleep. I tried to imagine him, buttnaked. I knew he must have a smooth chest...I just had a feeling. What were his nipples like? Were they small, light brown, delicate, like a boy's nipples, or did they stand out conspicuously dark-brown on his chest? He didn't look super-muscular, but I knew he had to had have SOME muscle. And did he have washboard abs? He didn't seem to have much body-fat. That made me wonder about his navel. Did he have an innie, outie, or "inbetweenie" (my fav)? Navels have always been a turn-on for me, and I really wanted to see Dan's. Was his ass composed of the perfect tight fleshglobes I imagined? And of course, what was his cock like? My size or an eight-incher? Cut or not? And most of all, what would he feel like, hard, touching the back of my throat? But I doubted I'd ever have a chance to find out any of these things, especially the last.

Strangely, he'd never mentioned a girlfriend. I was hesitant to bring the subject up, cause I didn't want to admit that I didn't have one ("What, are you like a fag, dude?" I could hear him say as he pounded me to the floor), but also, I didn't want to know if had one or even if he dated. The thought of any girl getting boned by Dan made me insane with jealousy, so I tried not to think about it, and silently prayed I'd never know about it if it did happen.

How was I going to see him naked, or even shirtless? I guess my subconscious worked on that one, because the next day I noticed something about our house that I hadn't noticed before. Namely that the doorknobs inside were about fifty years old, and each one had an old-fashioned keyhole. I got down on my knees and looked through the keyhole of my bedroom. Damn if I couldn't see straight down the hall, about twelve feet to the doorway of Dan's room. Between us was the bathroom, so he had to come into view to take his morning shower.

I couldn't believe how obsessed I was getting about my roommate, but there it was.

The next morning I woke up at 4 to take a piss. I went back to bed but couldn't get back to sleep. Dan had gone to bed pretty early; maybe that meant he'd be getting up early as usual? I laid there for awhile...how can one sleep in this state? I got up and looked through the keyhole, but couldn't see anything as it was still totally dark. The minutes seemed to crawl by, but the next time I looked at my clock it was 6:15. I laid there, silently waiting. Luck! Stirrings down the hall. I could hear Dan making noises. I got out of bed and got ready to spy.

My neck was aching 20 minutes later when Dan finally opened his bedroom door. He was in his underwear, but still had a shirt on. Damn. He went in the bathroom and soon I heard him brushing his teeth. Uh, Dan, you're supposed to do that BEFORE you go to bed. Maybe he forgot...how adorable. Then he came out, and lo and behold, as he walked back to his room he peeled off his shirt with one graceful swoop. His back was the same beautiful olive-bronze as his face and arms, smooth, tight, with little ripples of toned muscle. I felt faint. He turned the light in his room on. For the next few minutes, he was out of sight most of the time, but then he came over to a mirror on the wall and pulled his mouth open with his finger to look in his mouth. Yeah, your teeth're clean now Dan. There he was, barechested in his white underwear, not self-conscious at all (well he didn't know I was watching). His profile was like a statue of a Greek youth, a youth that could never grow old because he would live always in the artist's eye. I stared in fascination as he kept moving around his room. What was he doing? He seemed pretty disorganized. I caught sight of his stomach (finally!), tight but not exactly a washboard. That was OK with me. Even better, it looked like he had an "inbetweenie" bellybutton (mmmmm): little ridges and curls entwined and nested together, rising from the center of his navel to lay even with the surrounding skin. My cock tightened up against my shorts. His nipples were small and chestnut-colored, as if dabbed onto his chest by a master artist as an afterthought. His shoulders were perfectly proportioned to the rest of his body, muscular and manly (shoulders a wrestler needed). He was, all things considered, a consummate specimen of young manhood. My cock soared as I stared at him, peeking up from my underwear and standing straight up against my bare stomach, thick, hard, cut, and plenty long enough to please somebody, but unfortunately craving someone who couldn't be had.

How was I going to get him to wrestle me again? Well, I could always buy him more beer. Right, like he was going to run out. He had really good connections in that department.

Then Dan came out of his room. As he walked out he stared straight at my door. I could have sworn he was looking right at me, through the keyhole, but he couldn't see my eye through the keyhole, could he? COULD he? (I'd have to check later.) I pulled back quickly from kneeling, but managed to thump my butt back on the floor. Shit. I stopped breathing. I felt more alert and tense, skin prickling, than I ever had. It seemed as if Dan could simply FEEL that I was in here, watching him, if he really wanted to know. (And then what would he do?) After a few seconds, I crept slowly and stealthily back to the keyhole, but couldn't see him in the hallway. Then I heard the bathroom door close and the shower running. Ten minutes later he came out barefoot but otherwise fully-clothed. He must have thought I might be up by the time he got out. Why didn't he want me to see him naked, or even shirtless? Why was he so modest? He WAS kind of slender, some might even say skinny, but he had those wrestler-toned muscles too, and that beautiful youthful olive-bronze skin. But maybe he didn't know how good-looking he was. Or did he have suspicions about me and didn't want to risk turning me on? I hoped I wasn't that obvious, but I wasn't sure. After all, young men in love (and lust) give themselves away all too easily at times. Didn't Shakespeare say something about that? Well, if he didn't, he never met Dan.

It was just after 7:30 when Dan slammed the front door on his way out. I listened for a minute and heard his Mustang rev and drive off. I opened my door and went to my morning duty on the can. The bathroom sure smelled strong. It was a sweet smell I couldn't quite place, but I'd noticed it before after Dan was in the bathroom. If he smelled that good all the time I was simply not going to be able to take this much longer....

LOSING MY BOUNDARIES

After breakfast it was time to go to work. The fog was lifting and there was kind of a hazy sunshine outside. I noticed that Dan's bedroom door was left open, as usual. I'd never been in there, or even looked inside since he'd moved in. What did he keep it like? I paused at the doorway. Kind of college student-messy. A double-sized mattress on the floor (big enough for girlfriends?). Bed unmade. Some tapes and a Mudhoney CD in a pile on the floor near the door. I went in...I was just going to look around briefly. Some clothes on the bed. He wouldn't keep clean clothes on his bed, would he? No, unless he was really strange. So they must be dirty clothes. Hmmm. There's his Pearl Jam shirt. I lifted it up and smelled it. Kind of sweaty but not too bad. Then a noise at the door. My heart stopped. I dropped the shirt and quickly ran out into the hallway, fully expecting to see Dan walking in. But no sound. I went out to the living room and opened the front door. Oh, it was one of those guys who put those promo ads for pizzerias and such on doorknobs. He'd opened the screen door and let it slam. Whew. It wasn't even a pizzeria I liked this time. Damn.

Dan's bedroom called to me. Come smell me.... What am I doing, invading his privacy like this? I felt guilty but my obsession with him was the stronger. I stealthily walked back into his room, as if playing a child's game, as if, if I made a noise, Dan would know, turn his Mustang around and drive back to catch me in the act.

Oh, whoa, some jockeys next to his bed. Clean or dirty? I picked them up and looked at the crotch. No yellow stains. That's good. No shit stains either. He keeps himself clean, that's sexy. Then I took a whiff...that smell again. WHAT is it? Another whiff...mmmm...it was a sweaty sweet smell unlike any other. His cock had been there, right there. Jesus. I was getting a massive hard-on. He wouldn't miss this piece of underwear, would he? I mean, he must have more.

I went back to my room with his jockeys, but stopped at the cabinet in the hall...oh yeah, this is where he keeps his clean clothes. There was a bar of Irish Spring soap lying on some towels. Was that the smell? I picked it up. Yup...Dan the Scottish/Peruvian boy, the Irish Spring teen wrestler.... I walked back to my room. I was risking being late for work, but my cock was thwacked up against my stomach. I had to get off. I laid down on my bed and draped Dan's underwear over my face, inhaling his smell deeply. I turned it inside out so the place where his sweaty teencock had safely nestled yesterday would sit over my mouth and nose. I beat myself raw, smelling Dan all the while, and came all over my stomach (one spurt hit my neck...I was really turned on). After cleaning up, I put his underwear away...well, in MY closet. I'll buy him some more, I thought. Yeah, right, sure you will.

So here I am, stealing my roommate's dirty underwear to inhale, what the FUCK am I doing?

INTERLUDE

That was a Thursday morning, and that night Dan came home completely wasted around 9 p.m. He must have been partying hard. He told me his calculus final was the next day...Friday. "I'm gonna wing it." Yeah, I thought, well, you may be cute, but you're kinda stupid.

"Don't you think you should study?" I asked.

"No, bro. No energy." Dan went to get more brew from the frig. Great. Well, maybe he'd wrestle me to the ground again that night. But no such luck. Within an hour he was asleep on the couch. I turned out the light and left my sweet drunk obsession to sleep it off. In the morning he was gone, presumably to school to cram for calculus.

I went to work that day wondering how I was going to handle the summer after Dan was done with school. Would he be around ALL the time, torturing me? I wondered how much longer I'd be able to take living with this young boy, this young, beautiful, manly college student who had taken my heart and didn't even know it....

"Something About Dan 2/2" (M/M) (Coll) (Humil) (Oral)

(Anal) (Navelplay) (Love!)

WARNING: This part REALLY contains graphic depictions of sex between two (young) adult males. If you don't like that stuff, or if the laws of your state, city or country prohibit you, because of your age or for any other reason, from reading sexually explicit stories like this, then stop now!

SOMETHING ABOUT DAN 2/2

AN EVENING WITH DAN

That evening I had a good Mexican meal in West Hollywood and stared at the beautiful boys passing by. Well, SOME of them were pretty, and some of them were just plain weirdlooking. But none, however handsome, could match Dan, the apple-of-my-mind's-eye.

I bought some CDs up at Tower Records on the Strip and went home around 10. It had been a long week at work, and I was ready to hit the sack. As I walked up the steps I noticed the TV was on again. Dan sure did watch a lot of TV for someone who was trying to become an engineer. He nodded to me. Four empties were on the rug. I went to the kitchen for some icewater. We watched until the end of a program, then Dan flipped off the TV. "Flunked my final, dude. I'm pretty sure."

"That sucks."

Then he spoke magical words.

"Hey dude, feel like a wrestle match? I need a workout. Been kinda stressed from school."

Uh, why don't you just jack off instead, I wanted to say. I'll help.

"Well, I'm kinda beat. And I'm not exactly good competition, you know." What was I doing, trying to talk him out of it?

"Come on, dude. It won't take long." He laughed. "Just do whatever you need to do to try to pin me. It's my moves that matter." He said "pin me" with a smirk. He had no doubt that he would win.

"Sure...alright." I'd finally woken up and realized that my protestations were ridiculous...I was going to have Dan all over me again. Dan showed me the correct starting position, which I faintly remembered from high school. I'd hated wrestling then and wasn't much into it now, but if it was the only way I could get my hands on him, well, I'd have to put up with it. I got on my hands and knees and Dan knelt next to me, one arm on my elbow, the other around my stomach. Why don't we just stay like this for awhile, I thought? His beer breath blew gently on my cheek.

"Ready?" he said. "On three: one...two...."

We were off. He yanked my elbow and my head hit the rug. In two seconds he had me on my back. I struggled back as best as I could, but I didn't know any good moves. But just when he nearly had me pinned, I managed to spin my butt around and break out from under his grip. I rolled over and got away, to what seemed to be his complete amazement.

I had to struggle, I had to try to win, or it'd be over all too soon.

"Not bad, fucker."

He came at me again, but I feinted to my left and grabbed at his leg, pulling him down. This was kind of fun. I was almost on top of him. He had the moves and more muscles than me, but I was taller, and leverage counts for a lot.

"Fucker!" He was pissed (in more ways than one). I almost had him down again but he managed to slide out and backed away from me, on his hands and knees, panting heavily.

He was starting to look a bit frustrated (did flunking the final have something to do with it?). He came at me again. I blocked him, and we locked arms. I tried to wrap my arm around him but he kept me away. I tried to stand up but he tripped me down again. I was going to have to learn that move. But before he could get a lock on me I managed to get away and scrambled across the room. I realized I was feeling adventurous...he said anything would go, right? I jumped up on the sofa and faced him. He came at me, probably not knowing what to expect, and I leapt at him with a yell. He definitely hadn't been expecting that. He fell under my weight and I had him down, well, almost. With my legs I pinned his torso, and thought I had his arms down, but he had those strong shoulders....

"Fuck you dude, you're not gonna win this."

"I'm gonna try."

I was distracted by this macho talk and he managed to scramble away. "You're a wuss and you know it." This wasn't a kidding tone at all...he sounded like he really meant it. But he was drunk too, so maybe he could be forgiven. "I'm gonna get yer fag-ass down on the ground where it belongs." Did he mean the "fag" part?

"I'm not a fag, dude," I panted.

"Yes you are." Was this some strategy to get me pissed and off my guard, or did he mean it? I felt like a little kid when I replied:

"No, I'm not."

He leered at me from across the room. "Fucker, you're a fag and you want this, don't you?" He grabbed his crotch.

He was either totally drunk or this was some bizarre wrestling ritual that I didn't know about. Or maybe...?

He came towards me, his face inches from mine, and glared at me. "Fag...got."

"What the fuck is your problem, Dan?" This was actually pissing me off. It wasn't the beautiful relationship I'd envisioned. But I realized I was getting hard too. Damn, it was all so confusing.

He backed off a few steps, and then he was barreling at me, head down. Jesus, he was going to knock the wind out of me. I dodged to the right, but managed to fall one knee to the floor in the process. Were these collegiate wrestling moves or anything-goes-pro-wrestling moves? In an instant he was on me, pushing me down, seconds later straddling my chest. I clumsily pushed back at his stomach, lifting his shirt up, revealing those nice not-quite-washboard abs. I had to keep struggling or he'd really think I was a fag. But then again, I really did want to suck his cock, didn't I? I mean, maybe Dan was gay and couldn't admit it, but couldn't I? I stared at his stomach and navel and pushed his shirt up farther. He had my shoulders pinned with his arms and his legs securely wrapped around my torso. He didn't seem to care about my hand pushing up at him. His crotch was inches away from my face. I could see his underwear under his shorts.

I tried to match his macho talk. "OK, jerkoff, you win." But instead of acknowledging me, Dan reached back and put his palm square on my crotch, which had definitely ballooned up from having him on top of me. He seemed to hold his breath and his voice dropped to a whisper. "You really are a homo, aren't you?"

Um, yeah, well, maybe not a homo, but definitely bi, but then who just put his hand on my crotch, I wanted to say. But I held my mouth in case he had any intention of getting violent. I had no idea what he would do, and he was one drunk college boy. I couldn't believe what a different person he was after a few beers. There was that damn sweet smell again.

"Do you want it? You do, don't you?"

He wasn't joking around, I was pretty sure. I breathed heavily, my stomach tense and my voice a quiver. Well, he was even asking. This might be my only chance. "Whatever," I croaked out.

Dan snorted. "I figured you were one." Without really getting off me, he lifted up a bit and pulled his shorts down his thighs as far as they would go. Time stopped.

"Like what you see, dude? Why don't you lick my jockeys." Um, well, I did that this morning, I almost said, but held my tongue again. Instead, I did as I was told, hesitantly sticking my tongue out to where the opening in his underwear revealed his hardening manhood. Um, your cock is hard too, Danny, I wanted to say, but kept my mouth shut. Well, almost shut except for my tongue, which licked away at the material. But this was so much hotter now both figuratively and literally with Dan's real cock on the other side of that white fabric. "Open up the pisshole with your mouth" he ordered. Oh man, this was too much. Dan's hand hadn't moved from my crotch. In fact he was rubbing and squeezing me a little, but I don't think he was aware of it.

With my teeth I tried to open up the hole in his jockeys, but it wasn't easy. After about a minute of his sweaty jocksmell and hardening prick trying to get free, he took a hand off my shoulder and slowly guided his dickmeat through the hole. It was as rigid as any cock could get, I was sure of that. The veins bulged on the side, and the head was the purple-est I'd ever seen. His circumsized dick was at least as long as mine, maybe a little longer, and definitely somewhat thicker. Why'd this shorter guy get blessed with a thicker, longer cock? Oh well, I thought, at least I might get to play with it.

"You want my cock, don't you, bro?"

"Yeah," I could only whisper.

"I knew you were a homo."

You keep saying that, I thought. Look who's projecting his OWN sexuality.

"You thought you could pin me and now look what's gonna happen. You're gonna suck my dick."

"Yeah." We sat there for a few seconds.

He spoke again. "Well, actually, I don't know. I know you want my cock in your mouth now, but I think it'd be good for a cocksucker like you to develop some patience." (Hadn't I waited long enough for this?) "So why don't you start off by jacking me, then later on, if you

make me feel real good, I might let you suck my cock."

This boy was talking dirty and I was liking it a lot. Then Dan noticed his hand was rubbing my crotch. "Whoa. Dude, you like how that feels, don't you?"

"Yeah."

He let go of my arms and I reached out to cradle his dick with both hands. It was as beautifully proportioned as he was, with the same beautiful bronze color. I pulled his underwear down to reveal his tight balls. He was so fucking BONED. Then Dan did what I never though I'd live to see: he pulled off his shirt. I stared up at his tight defined bronze chest, glistening with drops of sweat, his exquisite abs, and that enticing navel.... I wondered if he'd let me lick his bellybutton too?

I started rubbing the underside of his purple shaft. Then I used both hands and lightly rubbed the sides of his teenmeat. I reached down and felt each testicle, and rubbed them gently. I didn't want him to come before I got a chance to have him in my mouth. I knew that once a guy came their attitude totally changed, and he might even fall asleep. But with a boner like this, I actually doubted that would happen. He was 19 and could probably blast it a few times a night.

I gave Dan's throbber my full attention. I used everything I knew about what feels good to a dick. Back and forth, up and down. Light then hard. After a couple minutes a little drop of precum appeared, and I wiped that around his dickhead. He leaned back and visibly relaxed. I started to jack him slow, then faster. He seemed to be enjoying my wankjob...a lot. But then...

"All right, dude, I think that's enough." Dan was rising off my chest. What was he doing?

"Uh, don't you want me to..."

Dan was standing over me now. He looked down and smirked. "To what, dude?

My words stumbled out. "To, to suck you."

"Suck me? What do you mean?"

"Suck your dick."

His voice was pure derision. "You wanna suck my dick! Cocksucker. Why should I let you?"

"Cause. Cause..."

"Cause what?"

"Cause I want it."

"Why don't you say it like you mean it, faggot."

"I want to suck your dick." I'd never said that out loud to anybody before. It sounded so vulgar in a way, but it was the truth. I wanted his cock as far down my throat as it would go.

"Say it again."

"I wanna suck your beautiful cock, Dan."

Maybe he was a total homophobe, but he was getting off on this...he really wanted to know how much I wanted him.

He spoke again. "Yeah, well, there's a cocksucker born every minute, and you were one of them, weren't you?" He laughed at his stupid (and probably old) joke. "So here you go." His shorts had fallen to his feet when he'd stood up, but now he hoisted his jockeys down too, and kicked them off. They landed inches away from my head, and I turned my head to take a deep whiff. Why hide it anymore?

"Like the smell of those?"

"Yeah."

Dan sat back on my chest.

"Fucking weird." I was kinda of getting into this submissive thing, which was strange because I'd always been a top. Which made a thought flash through my mind: God, he isn't gonna wanna fuck me, is he? The protocol in situations like this as I understood it anyway was the older guy sucks the younger guy, but then gets to buttfuck him. (That's how the Greeks and Renaissance Italians did it, at least from what I understood.) And I was definitely into buttfucking...especially a cute ass like Dan's. But just how was I going to make that happen?

Dan settled back on my chest. He was bucknaked now, and his throb-rod was right there for me to savor. I pulled his butt a little closer to me and, sticking the tip of my tongue out, took my first taste of Dan. I lightly touched his cockhead with my tongue. He smelled and tasted good...even better than his jockeys did...this was the real thing. As I gently licked, I had to admit I was falling in love with this college boy who was treating me so roughly. But could he ever love me back? I doubted that. I decided to do everything I could to make this his best blowjob ever: I literally blew warm air all over his tool, tongued it, licked up and down the shaft and head, then formed a suckshaft with my lips and sucked like there was no tomorrow. He pulled at my hair roughly. It hurt, but with his cock filling my throat I think I could have stood any amount of pain. I stuck my tongue way out and managed to lick his hairy balls. Then back to his shaft and dickhead.... I tried to pace myself and only slowly increased the tempo...I knew that was the most important factor in a good suckjob.

I looked up and saw Dan close his eyes. "Yeah, suck it, dude. Make me feel all...right." He was digging this.

With one hand I reached up and caressed his chest and his pencil-hard nipples. I pinched them and Dan moaned.

"Oh YEH, yer sucking me so good..."

I moved my hand down and felt his flat stomach. I could feel his diaphragm heaving with each breath. I stuck a finger in his navel. Dan

moaned again, he liked that...cool. I traced the ridges and curlicues of his navel with my finger. He was such a hot young boy.

I took more of him in, pulling him closer. I lifted my head up so I could try to deep-throat him. I'd tried to deep throat a guy once before but hadn't succeeded. But my throat opened up for Dan: his penis slid down my throat and felt like it belonged there as part of my own body. As part of my own soul. I knew then I was made to suck this boy's jockcock, and I wanted it to last forever....

More precum oozed out of his dickhead and down the back of my throat. This musty, sweaty, sweet-smelling jockboy was all mine...at least 'til he came.

I had to have some sort of release. I pulled Dan's hand away from my crotch and he let me unzip myself and pull my pants down. I hoped he would reach back and wank me, but instead he put both his hands behind his head and gloried in what was definitely the best blowjob I'd ever given, and probably ever will give. Meanwhile I gloried in his smooth chest and tummy and beautiful face above me, his face contorted with that expression of pure sexual pleasure that you might think was pain if you didn't see what was going on below. His proud hard teencock was engulfed in my mouth to the hilt, my lips touching the skin at the perimeter of the base. I wanted this dick in my throat forever. I started jerking myself off with one hand. This was better than any heaven could have been.

Meanwhile, I left my examination of his bellybutton and roamed towards his smooth butt. There was a lot going on simultaneously, but if there was any chance of fucking him (and I can't believe I thought there was), I had to get him used to the idea. Squeezing his buttflesh, I let my finger slowly wander towards his asscrack. I explored around the hole and then gently stuck it in a little. This was probably his first time.

"Uh, hey, dude, we're not going there, OK," he said. He put his a hand on my bicep, and my arm fell back to my side.

Maybe it was time to turn the tables. Sucking his cock was definitely the best thing that had happened to me in a long time, but this experience wasn't going to be complete without me plowing his tight little butt for an hour or two. I knew that, even if he didn't. Was I going to have to turn the tables and dominate him? And how was I going to do that? I wasn't going to rape him, but I had to convince him that my cock belonged in his butt like his cock did in my mouth.

I was feeling strong, almost powerful, with this dick tickling the back of my throat. Dan was lost in another world. We could have been on primetime TV and I wouldn't have cared. Then an idea crossed my mind....

I brought my hands slowly up the smooth sides of his torso, as if to just feel him up, but when I got to his hairy armpits I quickly jabbed him hard on both sides with my fingers. He convulsed in a giggle, temporarily losing control.

It was all I needed. Despite the fact that my shorts were still around my knees, I quickly slimed his cock out of my mouth, and managed to have him on his back in a second, then on his stomach, still tickling as necessary to keep him pliable. This boy was going to be all mine, and his butt was going to take my cock as far as I wanted it to go. I was on top of him, sitting on his jockbutt, both of his arms pinned behind his back. I was proud of myself: I'd learned a few moves already. I tickled him a little again. "Ticklish, aren't we?"

He giggled again, unable to speak. How cute. I tickled him again. This was kind of fun. My new playtoy. Tickle tickle, I jabbed. He started laughing hysterically. I reached under his tummy and jabbed there. He laughed even harder...this was one ticklish drunk boy for such a serious jockcolt when sober. No wrestling move to counter this. I could get him anytime this way, I thought.... I probed under his tummy for his bellybutton.

He laughed and then squeaked out, "Boy, you really have a thing for my navel, huh?"

"Yeah, I like your navel a lot. I want to lick it and play with it. But we'll do that later. First I'm gonna fuck you." I had to get him primed to the idea.

"Uh, I don't think so."

I tickled him again and his body slackened beneath me. "I do think so."

He mumbled into the carpet. "But I'm not the fag here, you are." I couldn't believe he was talking to me that way, with me on top, ready to tickle him even more. Such the macho dude.

"You may think I'm the only fag in this room, but there's definitely two of us. Yeah, I like to suck cock, but I'm pretty sure you need a hard dick up your ass."

"Uh, no, I don't think so." This conversation was going in circles.

"Uh, yeah, I DO think so." It was time to get a finger up his butt so I could prove to him how much he needed it. And I knew if I could get him into it even once, he'd be hooked. Something about being plowed always did that to guys.

I spit on a finger, and holding his arms tight behind his back with my other arm, leaning with as much weight on him as possible, slowly worked my index finger into his tight hole. One knuckle disappeared inside. His asscrack was smooth save for a few hairs near the hole. What a gorgeous butt this boy has, and he probably doesn't even know it, I thought. Or even care.

Dan squirmed beneath me but I leaned down on him even more. "Don't make me tickle you again."

"Stop it, man, I'm not a fucking faggot!"

"Yes you ARE." I felt like teasing him. "Well, OK, maybe you're not a faggot, but you're definitely a Homo with a capital `H.' A drunken one. You just haven't admitted it yet." I worked the finger in past the second knuckle and twirled it a little in his ass.

Dan went limp a little and let out a big breath. Was it working? A little further and the finger was in as far as it would go, up to the third knuckle. I probed for his prostate. I knew that would get him going if anything would. Dan sighed again; in fact, it was closer to a quiet moan. I spit at his hole to try to lube him up some more, but it missed, landing on his buttcheek

"What're you gonna do, dude, fingerfuck me and then spit on me?"

"No, you'd like that too much."

"Dipshit."

"At least I'm not a bottom boy like you." Dan squirmed at that and almost got out of my grip. But I leaned into him with all my weight and he stayed down. Being taller I had that advantage of leverage. Anyway, I think he was getting a little too relaxed from my probing finger to offer up much resistance. "Face it Dan, you're digging this."

"No I'm not," he said, unconvincingly.

That deserved a challenge. "Then why don't you get up? You know you could if you really tried. Truth is, you're really liking my finger up your ass. Why don't you admit it? And before long you're gonna find out how fine it is to be fucked silly by a nice hard penis."

"Fuck you dude."

"No, that's my job." It was time for two fingers. Dan was settling down, macho protestations to the contrary. I took my finger out and smelled it: there was no shit smell at all, which was cool, and made me like Dan even more. A college boy with a clean butt. Yummy. I spit on two fingers now and returned to his back entrance. After I'd pulled out his butthole had regrouped, and working in two was going to be a bit more of a challenge. But I had to make him want my cock. I pushed as hard as I could and they slipped in. Cool, a tight butt, but not too tight. Dan squirmed again, but it didn't feel like resistance this time, more like, "Whoa, this kind of hurts, but maybe I could get used to this. Maybe even like it."

I had two fingers working his ass, reaming his butthole and massaging his prostate. Although I'd never been fucked with a cock, I'd had fingers up my ass before and knew how good it felt. I knew Dan was feeling fine. I looked back at him. His right cheek was on the carpet, and I saw his left eye peering up at me. I thought I saw a slight grin form at the tip of his mouth. I just kept working his jockbutt, and then...finally...Dan really gave into it.

First it was a little moan, then some heavy breathing, then a little more moaning, and then a big gasp: "Oh man, I think I'm gonna cum soon. Oh, dude. Oh Tim." This is what I wanted. He was gonna be all mine now. Should I let him come? Sure, why not. Get him all relaxed. I plowed him with my fingers, stretching his hole for all he was worth. I noticed his face was all sweaty, and even his butt was glistening a little. But maybe that was my spit that missed.

There was more moaning, sighing, and groaning, and then Dan let out with "Uuungh, yeh! Here it comes, man! Uuuuuuuuuungh! Oh yeh...oh yeh...." His entire body, to a muscle, tightened and hardened. Even though I was sitting on his legs I swear I could feel the spasms from his cock beneath me. I couldn't see it, but I knew he was releasing an immense load of jizz all over our carpet. He whole body kept spasming for at least 20 seconds. Then, "Oh man, that was fucking...great." And I gave it to him, I thought proudly. Just wait 'til he takes my dick.

But I had to do something else first. I rose off Dan and rolled him over on his back. His eyes were closed in ecstasy. There on the rug was the biggest cumload I'd ever seen, bigger even than any porno flick. Large gooey elastic globs of Dan's white cream were lying in three or four different puddles. The total must have been half a pint. I took a look at Dan, whose eyes were still closed, and went to work licking up his cum. I started to beat off. I sneaked a peek at Dan after a few seconds. He was staring at me.

"Man, you really like eating my sperm, don't you?"

"Yeah. It's the best dessert I've had in a long time." I grinned at him. I kept licking and rubbing myself, and before long I was ready to blow.

"Can I cum on you, Dan?"

"Cum on me. Uh...well...what the fuck." I think he was too tired and relaxed to insult me or resist at all.

He did seem to like watching me pound my dick and started a little monologue. "Yeah, fucker, rub that boner, dude. Blast it all over me, Tim." I finished lapping up his cum and crawled over, kneeling next to him. I leaned down to his stomach, took in the beautiful sight of his bellybutton, and bent down to lick it. Little drops of his cum fell from my mouth and nestled in his navel. I probed my tongue deep in his bellybutton and he squirmed. "Damn, no one's done that before, Tim. That feels really good." I kept probing and licking his inbetweenie, getting back as much of the cum that had leaked from my mouth as I could. I was an absolute cum-freak in that moment. Then I went down to his cock and licked it. It was too much. I pointed my cock at Dan and, moaning like there was no tomorrow, drenched his stomach and chest with at least seven massive shots of jizz.

I collapsed next to him. He stared at his stomach. "Man, you really hosed me down, dude." He turned to face me and I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Our still-slimy cocks rubbed against each other. Maybe losing Michael wasn't going to be so bad after all.... Dan didn't return the kiss, but if he could dig two fingers up his butt, I was sure he could eventually get into kissing too.

ALWAYS DAN

We were both spent. We straightened up a little (the rug was already pretty clean) and then said our goodnights. I wanted to ask him if he'd come to bed with me, but somehow the words wouldn't come out. Dan went off to his bedroom, and I reluctantly went to mine. I had to admit that maybe this was just a one-time thing. Would he even acknowledge it in the morning? I laid down, exhausted, and in seconds I was off in dreamland.

And there in my dreams was Dan again. Again and always Dan. I dreamed he'd opened my bedroom door while I was sleeping and was standing motionless above me, staring at me. Then he crawled into bed next to me and whispered in my ear.

And then I realized that I was really awake and Dan was really there, his hot breath in my ear, whispering to me. Whispering a request. A request only I could fulfill. I kissed him on the lips and held his smooth young torso in my arms, then I rolled him over and turned on the bedlamp.

I had to be able to see this.

There he was beneath me: Dan's beautiful pink butt and asshole pucker were ready to accept my cock. Wanted my cock. Craved my cock. He told me so.

I was instantly hard and pointed my dick at his hole. I spit on my hand and slicked it all up. I was ready to go, and so was he. And then, as I slowly eased my penis into Dan's fine ass, I felt for his wrestler-rod hard beneath him, and held it tightly in my fist. He groaned a little. I wrapped my other arm around his chest and kissed him on the ear. He was all mine. I whispered to his ear:

"I love you...you homo." He moaned some more, this time from pain I think. But it was a good pain.

"Yeah, I am one, aren't I?" He said it himself.

"Yeah, we're a little club."

And then I pumped him slowly, savoring every sensation of his tight collegiate buttcave.

SOMETHING ABOUT DAN

"I love you, Dan," I said again.

"I...love you too...you faggot. Tim. I really do love you, Jesus it's true." He seemed to whimper a little. I turned his head with my hand and saw a tear form and fall down on the pillow.

Was it from the pain of my cock plowing him for all I was worth, or just the relief of finally letting himself have what he'd always wanted?

I never asked.