You know it's all true, if a little embellished. Write me at darrin1984nyc@hotmail.com. You want to.
VICTOR
I go to college. Live in a frathouse. I've got about 6 feet, 180 pounds, nice triceps, brown hair and eyes, and a light tan in the early summer--really late spring--which is when I'm talking about.
A friend of mine--Dan--was in my room with three random guys when I got back from the market on the corner with a few sixpacks. A buddy was getting off work in half an hour and I was going to dirnk a few with him and watch some NBA. Dan said they were West Point guys, visiting New York on liberty for the weekend. Our college had just finished its spring semester, and summer term hadn't started yet, so there weren't many people around; those that were hung around the house, playing pool or video games.
He introduced us. A shorter kid who looked kinda like the dark haired kid from American Pie [Thomas Ian Nicholas, I found out by asking] was Kris, a guy with blond hair and glasses was Ron, and a big Korean guy with spiky hair was Victor. I'm in the closet, but I'm always looking, and both Kris and Victor were pretty sweet. I pulled some cigarettes and lit one up, offered the pack around. Victor took; no one else smoked.
Dan said they were looking to get dinner, maybe drive over to Jersey. It was already 8 or 9, though, and by the time they got back (I said), it would be midnight--they'd have to preparty in a hurry to get to clubs. And besides, who in Manhattan would drive to Jersey to eat?
We ended up going to Dallas Barbeque, a restaraunt chain on the island known for serving up "Texas-sized" drinks--about four shot's worth of alcohol mixed however you want in a giant glass. They also make a mean rack of ribs.
We cabbed it down and quickly got a round with an extra shot of 151 thrown in for good measure. We'd just ordered some buffalo wings when Victor said he had to leave in ten or fifteen minutes--he needed to meet friends downtown at a hotel to go clubbing. I was a little disappointed, since Victor was built as hell, and was a cool guy besides. Sure, I'd only known him for half an hour or so, but he could hold a good conversation and I could catch quick glances down at his hard pecs through his shirt when his eyes wandered. I said I wanted another cig and walked out with him. He took one too; he was already buzzed off the one super-sized drink.
"Thanks, man," he said, puffing on it quickly. "Can I get a taxi here?"
"You probably want to walk down to Columbus," I said, pointing. We puffed a while longer on the cigarettes and shot the shit, then I said,
"You're welcome to crash at the house tonight. Just give me a call when you're heading back uptown." I could hope, anyway. I had his cell number in my phone already; I'd gotten it from Dan on the taxi ride down. He asked for mine, and I gave it to him.
I tried to hail a cab as we finished the cigarettes and bitched about the last night's NBA game, but there really weren't any on the street. He told me he'd just walk down to Columbus.
"I'll probably call you later," Victor said, throwing the cigarette butt down.
"No prob." He paused, and turned to walk off, then slapped my ass.
"I'm sure I'll be awake all night," I said to his back, and walked back into DBQ to finish drinking and get my meal. Ass slap? I was exhilarated, since I really wanted a piece of that, and he was already buzzing. Probably he'd be a lot drunker later; maybe there'd be more ass-play. I hoped.
After the meal I taxid back up with Dan, Kris and Ron. Dan headed off as soon as we got back to meet a girl he was macking on, and Kris and Ron opted to stay at my place and play some video games. My air conditioner was acting strangely, and the room was warm, though not as swletering as it was during the day. But it was my luck: I stripped off my t-shirt as soon as I got in the door and felt the blast of hot air, and they followed suit.
Kris just unbuttoned his shirt, letting me have a good look at his hard body. He had either a good tan or a dark complection. Either way, he probably saw the sun a lot. Flat pecs and abs, though not as beefy as Victor's. Ron stripped down to his wifebeater, and he had mad muscles, huge arms--but he also had a Midwestern (Minnesota, Wisconsin, something like that) accent, and I just didn't go for it.
But after an hour of tossing back beers with them and trading off the controller to the Playstation, it seemed that all I was going to get was eye candy. They didn't really want to go out again, and seemed pretty transfixed by the video game. I definitely wasn't going to score, though I was having fun staring at Kris's smooth. He was in his second year there, so he was a year younger than me. Totally hairless on his chest, though. I liked that. A few people wandered in and out, played a few games, and I was getting restless. I started into a fifth (or sixth, or something) beer, realizing I was getting pretty drunk, especially after all the booze I'd put back at DBQ earlier.
The buzzer went off, and I walked down to get it. It was Victor, alone. When he opened his mouth, I knew he was as drunk as I was.
"Hey man," he mumbled. "I gotta crash soon." He stepped heavily through the door. He'd had a nice shirt on when he'd left to the club, but he;d lost that at some point in the night, leaving him wearing a white t-shirt, damp with sweat. if he hadn't been wearing slacks, he could have just come back from the gym. But there were too many people in my room, and I wanted to keep him away from Kris and Ron, who'd probably wander off with him if they knew he'd come back.
"Like I said, there's plenty of beds."
"Cool," he said, not moving.
"But I got to feed my friend Connor's turtle before I pass out," I finished. "He's out of town for a couple weeks." He waited.
"His place is across the street, another frat."
"Oh, that's fine," he said, paused. "I'll come with."
I had a key to the guy's room so I could get in to feed Jervis (the turtle). He'd done a shit job of packing, so there was crap all over the floor when we walked in, and I tripped. Jervis stirred in his tank. I flicked on the desk lamp, and quickly got the food and dumped it into the tank. Jervis lapped at the surface thankfully, unaccustomed to midnight feedings.
Then I walked back to the door and closed it, and walked back to him, standing in the middle of the room among the boxes and random shit everywhere.
I grabbed his shoulder, facing him, asked him, "How you doing."
"I'm good," he answered, slowly. "I'm real good."
I reached around and slipped my other hand down the back of his pants, grabbing his ass through boxers. "Good?"
"Real good," he repeated.
Not letting go of the fine ass I had in my hand, I unzipped him quickly and unfastened his pants. They dropped to the floor, but he didn't move. He was wearing plain white cloth boxers, and already looked to be pretty hard. or maybe he ws just huge.
"Does Dan know?" I asked, looking right at him. Dan wasn't gay, and had been a big playa in high school.
He looked away. "No."
"How long?"
"I can't at school," he started, mumbling. "Didn't score tonight. No girls." He waited, and I took my hand off his ass. "I wasn't really looking. I was just getting drunk, cause I knew I'd come back up here."
"Take off your shirt," I said. He reached down and stripped it off over his head with both hands, dropped it onto the floor with the rest of the mess. He looked even better than I'd imagined, sweat glistening on his chest from the alcohol and clubs he'd been at that night, matting down the only hair on his chest, a wispy trail of fien black hairs matching those on his lip, running down underneath the band of the white boxers. Pecs were hard and tight, with a little gold cross resting in the crack between them. Huge shoulders, like a lineman. This guy was ripped.
"You've got a lot more bulk than Kris and Ron," I said, staring hungrily at him. He had at least twenty pounds on me, probably more. But it was all in his upper body; he wasn't a squat lifter. He clearly used the bench press, and loved it.
"I'm two years older than them," he said, quickly. "And I work a lot harder. They're kind fuckups, really." I thought of them still playing video games across the street.
"Yeah, but they're cool. Either of them...?"
"I dunno bout Ron, he's really Kris' friend," he said. "So probably, yeah. I usually get a blow from Kris when we're drunk in the city. If you hadn't been around..." I smiled inside.
"You got a regular lay here at?" He probably came to New York on liberty pretty often.
"No," Victor replied shortly.
"You want one?" I asked.
He laughed. "Are all fratboys so easy?"
"Just horny." I produced the pack of Marlboros, flicked on up, and lit it. I offered it to him. He took it, and sat down on the futon along the side of the room, still cluttered with shit but at least there wa some space. He threw some old notebooks onto the floor, and spread his legs wide. The boxers were too baggy to see his sausage down the leg, but that wasn't going to stop me. I dropped to my knees in front of him and he wriggled his boxers down to his ankles.
He was big and hard. And uncircumcised, but the skin was already pulled back. He was spanky clean, and his pubes were th same fine black hair he had everywhere else. He leaned back and puffed on the cigarette, and I dipped my head down and put my lips on his head.
There was no music (I'd been too busy to put anything on), so the onyl sound was his labored breathing and the wet sound of my mouth slipping down his shaft. He smelled like sweat and cologne, and his pubes were already damp. I liked the smell, and lapped around the base with my tongue. Smoke drifted past my head.
I knew when he suddenly gripped my shoulders hard that I was hitting him good. He was breathing harder now, and kneading my shoulders as I bobbed on his big asian meat. My head was buried in his lap, I could feel the heat of his two huge legs holding me on either side, his powerful hands urging me faster and faster.
Then he let go with his right hand and replaed it on the back of my head, holding me down on his cock. He muttered something I couldn't hear, but his cock was spasming, and I knew he would go any second.
"Swallow," he muttered again, thickly, voice heavy with booze and sex. I didn't really want to, but it wasn't a big deal. I ringed his shaft with my tongue one more time, then felt the familiar sensation of his hard cock getting suddenly even harder, and then the warm gush of jism splashing into my throat. He spewed four times, by the end I was having trouble swallowing that fast and batted at his hand on my head. He didn't move it. There was a moment's pause and then he squeezed my shoulder as hard as he had (it hurt), and blew a fifth load that dwarfed the first four. I gagged finally, but his hands fell slack as he let it go, and I pulled off.
Cum dribbled from my mouth. I spit onto the remnants of Connor's schoolwork for the year. Victor was still leaning back and staring at the ceiling, finishing off his cigarette. He'd been quick, but then he was also pretty drunk, and I was a damn good cocksucker.
"Motherfucker," I spat. Again.
"What's that?" he said, looking down.
"You're a cum machine," is all I said. Coughed, and spat. "I don't usually swallow."
"Do you usually blow cadets?" He grinned. "Up there, we always swallow."
I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and smeared it onto his leg, gluing the hair to the skin. "Victor, you ain't in Kansas no more."
"Good, cause I tell you, Darrin, Kansas sucks balls." He was slurring his words more now. ("shucksh" rather than "sucks") Maybe the post-blow haze.
"Naw, that's what I do."
"Do I get a sample?" He was still partly hard, even after all that cum.
"If you're good." I stood up and reached behind me to the dresser. There were a few Newsweeks lying in the bottom drawer, a random assortment of Penthouses and Maxims, but they weren't what I was looking for. I scrabbled at the bottom until I came up with a condom.
"Whassat?" he said, slurring more.
"Rubber." I stepped out of my trainers and kicked them onto the chair by the computer. I wasn't wearing any underwear, mainly since I'd been hoping Victor would come back.
I was already plenty hard from getting Victor off and finally seeing everything he had to offer. Tore the condom open on the first try and rolled it quickly over my cock, which was standing almost straight up. It wasn't lubricated, but I knew Connor had some jelly in the same drawer. He threw the cigarette onto the floor, and stood.
"Nice cock," he said. "For a CAUCasian." Funny man, Victor. I was too horny to laugh.
"Lie down." He didn't. "On your stomach."
"Naw man, I gotta crash." He did look unsteady standing up, like he needed something o lean against. But I wasn't done with him yet.
"Not that easy, V." I said. I pushed him lightly, and he swayed. Grabbed his shoulders and pushed him to the wall. It was easy, he was just a solid weight. His slacks were already on the floor, but his boxers were still around his anks and he couldn't walk too easily.
I reached down and pulled them over his Doc Martins once he was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily still.
"What the fuck?" he asked, thickly, but didn't move.
"Spread em, Victor." He put his hands on the wall and moved his legs apart a little. I put one finger in my mouth, licked it--it was still salty from his cum before.
"You like it." I said, slipping it into him. "Think of it as a strip search."
"I gotta crash," he said again, but gasped as I pushed my middle finger up his ass. With my right hand I flailed around in the drawer again. I found Connor's cuffs first, then my hands closed around the glass jar. I wanted both.
I pumped him hard a few more times with one finger, then pulled it out. "Put your hands behind your head." He did, no more questions asked. I snapped the cuffs around one wrist, and he snatched the other hand away, but I grabbed it and brought it back. He didn't fight me, and I clicked the other cuff int the place, trapping his hands behind his head.
"Darrin?" he asked, starting to turn around. I pushed him back agains the wall, and unscrewed the jar's lid, scooping some jelly out and slathering it over my rubbered cock.
"What's up, V?"
"What's with the handcuffs?"
"Isn't this the way you army boys like it?" I asked, and pushed middle and index finger back into his ass, slick with the jelly.
"I don't--" He interrupted himself as he gasped again, my fingers probing inside of him.
I leaned in closed behind him, resting my head on his huge delts. Whispered as I pistoned his ass with my finger, "This how Kris does it?"
"Kris doesn't fuck me," he spat back, talking into the wall. I pulled out my fingers. He was loose enough.
I guided my cock up to his hole, wet now with jelly and sweat, and I could feel his muscles tensing as he felt my head there. I waited a second, then thrust in, half my cock all at once. It probably still hurt even after I'd loosened him up.
"Who does that?" I asked.
I could hear pain in his voice. "You."
"Does it hurt?"
"No," he said. But he was lying.
"You like to put it in Kris's ass?" I asked. I was imagining such a hot threesome, and wondered if it was really possible.
"He doesn't let me," said Victor.
"Doesn't let you?" I pounded him hard for a few second, smashing his body against the wall. It must have been murder on his dick, hard as it was, trapped between abs and wall. "Big mofo like you? Two years older? You should be more convincing."
He didn't answer, just wheezed softly with the sloppy sounds of my cock sliding in and out of his ass. He half-assedly tried to raise his hands over his head. The chain on the cuffs was too short, though, and he couldn't get them past the back.
"I think I could be convincing," I said, after a second, reaching around his front to grab his rock-hard cock and jacked it a couple times. "You seem pretty convinced."
He didn't say anything still. I stopped jacking him and held his side, squeezing his abs. Just a thin layer of fat to smooth it out. I loved this kid. I pulled his ass onto my cock, pushign deep into him, trying to hit his prostate right. It wasn't too hard to hit; I knew it from fucking him with fingers already. He leaned more heavily against the wall, breathed harder.
"Does anyone else in the house--?" He started, but didn't finish. I grinned, though he couldn't see.
"What, you want to be railed by more fratboys?" I asked. "I'm not enough?"
"Do they fuck you?" he asked, still feeling my cock jabbing him in the right spot. He was probably picturing a mass orgy of us guys. I wish it were so easy.
"I just fuck cadets," I said, smiling still. "Yall got the tightest asses."
"Oh god," he said only. "Fuck."
"What was that?"
"Fuck me, Darrin," he gasped. I was already on it. My hard cock slid in and out easily now that he was relaxing his ass. It was easy to piston, and I wanted to tear his ass up. I knew where the sweet spot was now, and he was already slumping from the sensations. Each time my knob pushed back down his tight hole, he tensed a little. I shave all my hair (probably from hanging around with too many swimmers), so he could feel my bare balls slapping aginst his spread asscheeks each time. He wasn't as crazy: his ass was a little hairy, he had a shock of fine black hair around his cock, and in his pits.
I reached around to tweak his nipples. They were already hard, but he still hissed when I squeezed them between my fingers, smearing spit and cum and lube across his pecs. They were smooth.
"Harder," Victor hissed as I pinched his nips again. I twisted it hard, and he tensed.
"Fuck me harder," he said, teeth gritted. I could hear it.
I pounded him, grinding my body into his, twisting his nips and squeezing his pecs each time. I wasn't talking anymore, just fucking him hard, now that I knew he could take it. Wanted it. The muscles in his legs stood out as I thrust back in each time, struggling to stand up. he was mostly slumping aginst the wall now.
I moved mmy hand back down to his cock and started jacking him again. He needed to get off again, and I was close. He was already hard, pressed against the wall. My hand was slimy, and it was easy. He was close too, just waiting for my hand on his cock again.
"Semper fi?" I asked, breathign heavily now too.
"That's marines, motherfucker," Victor gasped. "I'm army." And then his cock spasmed and started pumping out cum into my waiting hand. That turned me on enough that I went off in his ass, spewing a few good loads of jizz into him. He sagged as soon as he was dry again, which didn't take long since he'd just emptied himself into my mouth a little while ago. I unhooked the cuffs once I'd wipes off my cock on his leg.
He hasn't come back to New York since...but I'm waiting.