- See "Holler my name" for Jarraden's high school story * My other stories include the series "Deep Space Probe" * Follow me on IG wild9ranger for sexy, silly, outdoorsy stuff. * E mail: wild9ranger@gmail.com
Student Queerdos By Blake Underwood
Teenager Jarraden, is dreading making new friends at college, and what they might think when they see him naked. Meeting Emo kid Dax, who seems equally awkward, brings new perspective on what it means to have Big Dick Problems...
"What are you?" His voice was deep and raspy for a 17-year-old. Over the lunchtime chatter of the canteen, the weird Emo kid with his wispy moustache finally spoke, seeming like he was putting up a show.
He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, still chewing on his sandwich.
They were in the canteen and Jarraden, sitting alone, had watched him approaching the table and sit down silently: milky white complexion, lanky making him look like he might bend at the slightest breeze. He wore unseasonably warm clothes -- loose jeans and a bulky jumper -- his floppy chestnut hair barely covering his forehead acne.
Most of the young guys like Jarraden were in shorts and a t-shirt, with the handful of girls in flimsy skirts and tight tops. Jarraden had dithered over what to wear, finally straining his shorts up over his thick thighs.
He had watched his awkward reflection is his wardrobe mirror, his buzzed blonde hair, the obvious bulge of his flaccid cock gripping one thigh, and swallowed hard. It looked so rude.
He put on a baggy Nirvana t-shirt to cover what he could and had headed to class.
The college dining room was a muggy solarium right now.
The chatter and laughter swelled like those flocks of birds on Nat Geo that from a distance look like an animated cloud, raining down on an open savannah. Then the proverbial rain stopped, the guy peeked through his dark fringe, which is when he spoke and introduced him as Dax.
Jarraden laughed hard, amused by the engagement.
"What am I? Or who?"
"No, what?" They guy didn't smile, furrowing his brow at the call for clarification, which is when Jarraden realised he had caught an accent behind the English.
Something European, perhaps?
"Um...well, I just started, so..." Jarraden tried to sound light. "I'm an engineering major." He hoped it would make sense.
The stranger smiled, finally. They laughed at the same time.
Dax was studying draughtsmanship. His reedy voice sounded as though he smoked. His paleness made marked him as indoorsy, and through the noise Jarraden barely got to ask a question.
Somewhere in the conversation he mentioned his drawing portfolio and since classes didn't start back for another hour they made for the accommodation block to check it out.
Dax's room was clean and smelled of a sweet body perfume. Jarraden's building was the other side of the lush woodland, but the rooms were identical -- the same brown carpet tiles, small bed and basic desk, and a huge window that Dax had left shut.
Jarraden looked out to observe the rooftop of his building.
It was only now as Dax stood flipping through the sketches that Jarraden noticed the bitten nails.
The drawings were brilliant. In between technical drawings were some loosely sketched self-portraits that depicted his jawline like that of a soldier, all jutting and stubbly, quite unlike the canteen guy in his shapeless sweater.
"These are amazing," Jarraden said, and Dax gave his head a thank you tilt revealing dainty gold-hoop earrings.
Dax went to his bathroom, noisily brushing his teeth. Jarraden felt warm. His new underwear had turned his groin swampy: he had bought them online and they were ridiculous, garish, cheap thongs. But it was the best he could find -- designed for male strippers and with an improbably long sheath to be lassoed to a thigh.
He was still getting used to these changes to his body.
"Really warm, isn't it!" Jarraden said as Dax came back out without his jumper. In the wall mirror, Jarraden ogled him rifling through some unexpectedly bright t-shirts hanging on a rack.
In between watching Dax's long smooth back, Jarraden pretended to look at the sketches. He felt conflicted, watching him change, unable to pull his eyes from Dax's bum, which shockingly filled out his jeans.
"Yeah, I realised that at lunch." Dax laughed. His mood was lighter now. Jarraden watched him slip into a turquoise top.
Although Jarraden and his friend, Amit, changed in front of each other, and he had seen guys naked in the basketball locker room, he didn't find them interesting to look at.
His one-time sex with Sayern from school had been epic, but then everything had changed. (See "Holler my name" for that story).
His Summer growth spurt had fucked everything up: like a shape-shifter he had become someone who he never expected, something freakish.
Amit read sci-fi and fantasy books obsessively and had tried to play it off like Jarraden had unleashed an X-men power, or eaten a magic fruit that gave him a superpower.
"Some guys would kill for such a big upgrade" Amit had said, laughing. Jarraden had pathetically tried to punch his lights out. They had scrambled in Amit's bedroom, sending books flying, and Jarraden had ended up with a nosebleed.
It wasn't a joke, and here was his best friend pretending dick was a power. Amit had fucked up Jarraden's body with this mantra he had given him...that's what had happened, right?
At any account, now Jarraden wanted to turn back time.
He had blocked his IG but Amit hadn't tried to contact him any other way. Eventually things had thawed and they had spent the remainder of the Summer mostly avoiding the very physical elephant in the room.
Dax slid out of his jeans, which is when Jarraden saw that Dax was wearing a delicate white thong underwear, the lacy string parting the boy's big arse. It was so girly that Jarraden felt his dick pulse. Dax's bum looked like the wire passing through a large mozzarella, and his buttocks parted so wide that between them Jarraden could make out the pink flare around his anus.
That had to be a European thing!
He listened to Dax shuffling on the other side of the room for a moment, and then felt safe to turn around so that they could talk again. But Dax was still bent over, fiddling with his socks. "Oh sorry!" Jarraden blurted.
"It's cool," Dax said as he turned around to pull up slim shorts. That was when Jarraden properly saw the guy's body. Dax was wearing a proper girl panty...and the crotch was lacy and flat.
Jarraden blushed, suddenly confused. Dax looked unfazed: "Ready to get back?".
Jarraden felt his testicles squirm in his underwear, watching Dax head off in the opposite direction. In the robotics lab, Jarraden sat with a group of unfamiliar guys.
Of course they joshed about creating a sex bot. One guy joked that it should have a dick and pussy...just in case. They laughed some more, and Jarraden gave some serious thought to the benefits of creating something that could accommodate his endowment.
His mind flashed to a porn video he had seen of a man fucking a cantaloupe melon. The guy's dick was fat like a wine bottle and he had gutted yellow pulp from the fruit with his flared helmet making Jarraden's stomach-churn.
Would a pussy be able to take that?
Was this what he would have to resort to?
The guys dropped in humble brags about hot girlfriends.
Jarraden mentioned his friend Amit, back home. Amit was wiry like Dax, and wore his hair in an exotic top-knot, and small ruby earrings that glinted against his warm brown complexion. He looked alternative to Jarraden's regular sports guy, his blonde hair cropped, his thighs thick from basketball. One guy in the group looked like he played basketball too. He said that he had hit a `drought' with the girls and the others laughed.
After class some guys made plans to drink illicit beer in a dormitory block. Jarraden lied about being busy, and decided to take the long route back to his room.
If Dax was in his room, he didn't respond to the knock on his door, so Jarraden left a scrawled note and headed home. The chat earlier about family, and sex, had gotten him tense in different ways, and seeing Dax undress had piqued Jarraden's interest.
He missed Amit, and he missed Marcus his brother.
Marcus had taught him how to jerk off. They had done it together on the cold bathroom floor tiles when left alone, his older brother's legs heavy on his. Jarraden had studied his brother's breathing, how his abs bellowed just before Marcus' mouth hung open and his hot nut had glazed Jarraden's chin.
With Marcus gasping, they panted in unison. Then with a dirty finger Marcus scooped the cum onto Jarraden's lips. Jarraden had punched Marcus weakly and they had grappled naked, Marcus pulling him into a headlock. They flailed around all the while, playfully, until they realised they were getting aroused again and stopped.
Now back in his dorm room, Jarraden shucked off his sneakers. His feet smelled funky from the day. He scrolled through YT on his phone, and undressed by his door to a Nirvana playlist. He flung his pouch underwear and balled socks into a corner.
He stank.
His sweaty dick slapped his thighs as he walked to his window. Anybody outside looking up would have seen a guy bareback as he looked over at the woodland.
Kurt Cobain growled some angsty lyrics.
After a shower, Jarraden towelled off and sat naked, legs splayed, on the corner of his duvet, slicking his cock with coconut oil. He milked his dick in front of him hand-over-hand and wondered what other guys were doing in their rooms right now.
His baton glistened and he examined the blue veins that were visible on his length, like he was looking at a ripening cheese. He peeled back his foreskin and his plum helmet had an angry purple hue to it from being trapped for the day.
Since the shocking growth spurt he had closely examined himself many times -- flaccid and bone-hard, he had jerked off with both hands, almost testing his cock with scientific scrutiny...every bulge and vein; sensations deep in his nuts; the overwhelming volumes of spunk from his grapefruit-sized nuts when engorged that would spurt and spurt in ropes from his snake eye.
Cumming in his bedroom filled the air with the chloriney smell of fresh semen and in the absence of a cup or stray breakfast bowl that he would slide from under his bed, he would end up soaking his band t-shirts and have to furtively get them into the laundry without his Mum seeing them.
One time he had cum in a soft-drink cup by his bedside, his nuts squirming between his muscular thighs, his body convulsing with each spurt. It had gone on for ages, his eyes rolling back in his head in ecstasy as the cup had filled to the brim before his seed-lava had overflowed onto his hand.
It was so fucking erotic. He had dragged his tongue over his splooge and swallowed. He literally tasted like ice cream, at least to him he did. Another time he had jizzed in the shower and it had pooled in his hands before he smeared it over his body. He felt like a sex God.
He just couldn't imagine ever being able to fuck again...
Who could possibly open-up enough to take such a thick slab of prick?
His experience of peeing had changed too. Standing at the cinema urinals with Amit he had to heft up the length of his penis through his open zipper in a way that looked obscene. Amit had tried to shield him from the view of other guys standing around, but Jarraden felt like everyone was studying him.
He had eased off basketball practice at the local hoop, after guys started to notice how much he was packing, some playfully teasing that he should join the wrestling team because seeing him in a body-tight singlet would scare off opponents. "Snake guy" they called him, and he hated it.
His dick literally had become the centre of everyone's attention.
In fact, only Amit had seen him fully erect, apart from himself of course. It had been super weird...but on the Saturday morning he had woken to the nightmare of seeing his regular dick straining like a muscular python against his abs, he had dashed over to Amit's, his emotions a mix of rage and fear.
It had been Amit's mantra that had gotten into his head, he figured, and through Jarraden's repetition it had caused this monstrous change. Amit read books on magic and mysticism, and had said the vibrations of the Sanskrit chant would help attract Sayern. Maybe they did, maybe they didn't, but he had been a regular guy when they had finally fucked her on his Spiderman duvet and their orgasms erupted together in a way that he had never experienced from jerking off.
In Amit's bedroom Jarraden had started to explain the changes before bursting into tears. This was new territory for them.
Jarraden had removed his Nike t-shirt, and stood trembling, his abs taut and defined, unsure how to proceed.
"Come on Bro," Amit had said. "It's just you and me. I never meant for anything bad to happen."
Kurt Cobain crooned in the background:
Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be...
Jarraden's nuts were pushed onto his thighs, despite him spreading his legs. Normally they were the size of two boiled eggs and in his underwear they would be snug against him. But seeing them now, he watched the coils of his testes through his sac and felt a squirming deep inside that pulsed across his glutes like they were on fire.
He knew the arousal was mounting, and looking at his almost unfamiliar body, it was like watching another guy. He lay back, his feet still on the carpet and stretched his arms flat along the mattress, his damp armpits starting to smell musky again. His erection scared him: the way the skin darkened, and his cock thickened and became ribbed like stacks of wooden bangles. The veins became pronounced and pulsed. He imagined it looked like an animal dick, vascular and raging, attached to his body, and he felt a wave of anxiety at the thought of people being repulsed at seeing him looking like this.
Jarraden's mind drifted to the rainy night when he was twelve-years-old and had heard muffled screams through their bedroom wall. He had run in to help his brother, only to see Marcus fucking, pounding away between a girl's raised legs. Unnoticed, Jarraden had bolted back to bed.
He listened through the rain, its swells and ebbs, until he heard stifled moans and then trilling laugher, he couldn't tell from whom. His dick was rock-hard in his hand, but he felt confused at the vision of his brother's sweaty bum clenching and releasing. He had touched himself cautiously...
Now lying on his college bed there was no one to judge him...except himself.
Fully bricked, he looked across his defined abs to his humongous cock. He stroked it up and down with both hands, fingers barely touching. His bell-end throbbed and his balls, jostling on his thighs, were hefty and engorged. He could feel every vibration in his belly and groin, urging him closer and closer to an eruption of cum.
He focused on the feeling, his mind see-sawing between watching himself and images of Dax's big bum. He felt the urge to growl as he started to feel himself panting. Fuuuuck...
Knock, knock...
The sudden tap on the door caused him to gasp. Kurt Cobain belted hard.
Dax called from outside.
"Yeah...Just a minute." Jarraden croaked over the music, scrambling off the bed.
His hefty dick arched up from his body, bullet hard. His helmet brushed his chin as he squatted down slightly and moved about the room, his engorged nuts now like two small grapefruit in a mesh bag, swinging.
He leaned to the door, unlocked it, and lurched into his bathroom shutting himself in panting wildly.
He heard Dax close the room door, which is when he realised he only had the small hand towel with him.
"Everything ok? I like what you did with the place," Dax said laughing.
"Ha ha," Jarraden said, turning on a tap. He splashed cold water on his face to calm down.
Jarraden blushed, the hand towel incompletely wrapped around his trim waist. Dax was sitting on the bed.
"Did I interrupt something?" Dax grinned, cheekily.
The towel was too short, and so Jarraden's puff of blonde pubes were bunched in his fist as he struggled with the towel. He glanced at his lime green thong on the floor and Dax's gaze followed his instinctively.
As Jarraden walked to his cupboard he knew his long dick was visibly pressing the towel. He swung open the door to create a screen and dropped the towel to grab some clothes.
When he had changed Dax was beaming. "Interesting choice," he said, holding the thong up like in a QVC commercial, the pouch rudely hanging down and extending like an anteater's snout did from its face.
"Dude, it's pretty sweaty," Jarraden blurted. He was startled at the awkwardness of this new guy picking up his dirty underwear.
"I wish I could fill this," Dax said, his smile vanishing.
Jarraden had only ever seen one pussy in real life: everything about Sayern had been small, and girly, he supposed.
In the low light of his dorm, he could see Dax's chest and bum were smooth, but brown curly hair filled in his armpits, and his legs were lightly dusted with hair. His pussy on the other hand was like something from a 1970s porno, and Jarraden's heart fluttered at the sight of his rigid clitoris erect like a small penis. He placed his mouth on it urgently, curious at the thought of sucking a dick, but not really, and then let his tongue rove downwards into Dax's juicy pussy, causing Dax to moan loudly.
Dax's hairy boy-pussy smelled of fruit. Jarraden didn't know what perfume he was wearing, but when he had stepped out of his thong, his meaty clit was glistening and as Jarraden eased him onto his back on the bed, his cunt lips parted, sticky and fragrant.
They had spoken for hours until it had gotten dark and the room was lit by moonlight and Jarraden's desk lamp.
Being naked with a geeky trans boy in his first week of college was wild. The trans situation had never come up at their school. But Dax's emotional openness, and talk of his changing body, felt to Jarraden like a mysterious key had finally being found for a vault containing every answer to man's problems.
They had laughed and cried, hugged each other and kissed tenderly, before Dax had out of the blue slowly started to unbutton his own shorts before the window.
Jarraden had sat on his bed watching the clumsy striptease. Dax was definitely not undressing like a seductive girl, but equally he wasn't undoing Jarraden's pants. He was undressing himself, like he wanted to be seen -- revealing himself. All the while, his eyes searched Jarraden's, perhaps looking for that glimmer of unease that Jarraden felt when talking about himself being seen naked.
But here they were, two beautiful guys like mythical creatures, the stuff of stories and legends, who had found each other as kindred spirits.
Jarraden had no idea how things were going to unfold. But sucking Dax's cunt was definitely going to make his imaginary highlight reel, and he couldn't wait to see what else they could unlock together.
ENDS
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