So there I was in the computer lab bathroom, masturbating to bisexual orgy pornographic stories again, minding my own business, when a head popped under the divider.
"Whatcha doing?" asked the fraternity brother while he eyed my exposed cock. I went to cover myself with the printout and kick the intruder in the head, when he retreated to the other stall.
"Just polishing the ol' boy," I replied candidly, thinking the gentleman to have satisfied himself with a curious glance.
I gather the most pleasure from having a nice hard cock in my mouth and a man forcing me to suck it. To understand why this is you have to look at where it all began. It all began when I was just thirteen. I spent the summers with my mom at our cottage in the valley. The cover read "Slaves to Cock".
I worked for a termite and pest control place then so I worked with all men. The usual talk was about sex with women and how great pussy is. I've been with some women but prefer to suck cock. No one knew my secret so I just talked crap with them. There was a guy named Jimmy that was very openly gay so no one liked him. We had different jobs there so I only saw him breifly in the mornings.
You pull me into a tight hug, holding me close. I feel the rest of the world slip away. I bury my face against your neck and breath in your scent. I feel your beard tickle the side of my face. The only sound is our breathing. Gently, you touch the side of my face. I look into your eyes. I see nothing but love. We move closer to each other a millimeter at a time. Our lips meet softly. I am home.
The frat I belonged to was initiating five pledges to join the eighteen brothers. The initiation began with the pledges stripping for our inspection. Then each was shaved clean of all hair from the neck down. Groins, chest, legs, armpits and arms were all bared. What happens next is what really turned me on. Bob was huge for an eighteen year old. That soon changed. We wouldn't.
There's also a lot of Coreys, Chads, Brads, and Shanes. Mostly they are rich, hot, cocky little bastards--just my style. One Mike was a notorious partier. He was always at the bar, and pretty much everyone on campus knew him. He never could control his partying. I always figured the coke kept the fat off.
He had played the game since he was 6 years old. Now a junior in college, he was the best pitcher on his college baseball team. He was a very good looking guy by now. He stood 6 ft 3 inches tall and was about 210 pounds of solid muscle. He had a nice firm chest, and washboard abs. Baseball and school.
"Really? I always prefer someone else to do it." I'm not surprised.
"Yeah, well I'm not really into that kind of thing."
"What kind of thing?"
"Y'know...guys," I said. It is somewhat true, actually. I love reading gay or bisexual pornography, but when it comes to actually doing it, I don't get all that into it. Sure I've sucked a few cocks--who hasn't?--but I much prefer the feminine touch.
"Oh, come on...no one masturbates in these stalls except as a precursor..." This fellow was persistent.
The thing is, even as he kept talking, I was starting to get hot. Maybe this once it might not be so bad to let myself go. I was still exposed and stroking myself lightly and glancing at the pages. One of the characters, a seemingly straight fellow, had brought his girlfriend to a movie theatre. When they started to get a bit more involved than usual, and the girl started to get a bit more naked than one usually finds girls in the theatres, the other patrons joined in on the festivities. The "straight" fellow had just taken a cock into his mouth. I thought I'd join him.
"Oh, alright. You can come over."
The stall next to me burst open before I had even finished. I unlatched the door to my stall. A short, squat college student with a white baseball cap and khakis entered my stall with a smile and a pitched tent.
"So what's your name, beautiful?" Nice touch, loser.
"Josh," I lied. "What's yours?"
"Scott. So what do you want to do?"
"Whatever. But let's start this slow. I really don't usually do this sort of thing..."
"What sort of thing?"
"Guys."
Seeing how my penis was already out in the open, I thought it only fair for him to start by sucking me off. He had different ideas. His zipper slid down, exposing a short, squat member already moist with precum. I opened my mouth and let him enter.
He tasted awful. I don't think he had showered since his last balloon knot, and I've never been one for the taste of old feces. But I was a trooper, and I sucked him off as best I could. After a few minutes, he withdrew and said, "Okay, that's enough, you little cocksucker. You're too green for my tastes. You really suck at this."
Ha. I let his prick fall from my mouth. "Yeah, I'm not very good. You want to show me how it's done?"
"Buddy, I haven't even finished yet. How about offering up that pretty ass of yours?"
I thought about it. "Okay, but only if you've got something to lube yourself up with."
"Just a sec." Scott went back into the other stall and retrieved a bottle of lotion. "This'll do?"
"Sure." The guy started slathering the stuff on his dick while I turned around. Then he squeezed the bottle on to his finger, which he proceeded to insert into my virgin rectum. Well, somewhat virgin. Of course my girlfriend had been there many times with fingers. Ex-girlfriend.
"How's that feel, buddy."
"Alright. That lotion's a bit cold, isn't it?"
"Yeah, well...y'can't have everything, can ya?"
"I suppose not," I grunted as he pushed the glans up against the opening started to press it in.
It hurt. Quite a bit, actually. And for the first minute or so, I received no pleasure. Zero. It just hurt and my cock went limp. But then he must have his something in his quest for depth, because Mr. Bigglesworth jumped right back up to attention. "Fuck, yeah!"
Then he finished. And left. So I finished the story I had been reading, creaming all over the back of the stall door.
It happened only two years ago (I am a junior now) but it seems like a very long time in terms of how far I have come along since then. In high school, I had played sports. Baseball season was my favorite, and I thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of the sport (not least of all the great view I was afforded after practice in the showers and locker room). But, I did not do anything about it.
We were hippies in high school, and now we are suits in office jobs. He came by one Saturday night to my apartment and insisted we call up an escort service and get blow jobs. He was drunk, but he knew what he was doing. His wife was a bitch and he knew I would go for it. We'd had threesomes where we shared a girl before so I knew his cock was huge. I started thinking about his cock.
I was going to UCLA and to make ends meet, I was working at a market. Although I knew I was gay, I had never had any experience. Sexually I didn't even know what guys did to each other. Guess I came from a very sheltered home. After working for a couple of weeks, I was assigned to the night shift.
of Florida, Gainesville, also shared a dorm room with three other guys, all of us straight, but equally used to open masturbation and in some cases, without guilt, embarrassment or homophobic fear, giving each other a "helping hand" from time to time.
Through a "computer glitch", I ended up in "chat" mode with a guy whose postings I had repeatedly found interesting. The following fall I convinced Mike to rush and pledge my fraternity.
Late enough - the sun's gone down, the stores have been closed for hours, and the streets will be deserted. Quietly I slip out of the dorm - not that anyone would really care where I was going, and most of them know anyway. I head off down the hill - down into the heart of the city.
The suds were all around him. He lay back thinking of the men and boys that always filled his head. The party would start later and he had sometime to himself. There would be family and friends there. After all turning 21 was a big deal. His cock rose through the suds and begged for his attention. Trevor flexed it watching himself as he did so.
I'm not meaning that he's very good explaining the subjects but that he's a very good shape. Well, he explains OK too. I loved him since the first day I looked at him entering in class. He's very young, only 4 years older than me or so. As, I'm sure, you have guessed yet, I'm a gay boy.
I'd spent most of my time sitting around the house with very little to do aside from watching television and wacking-off. As Christmas day was still a week off, my parents were still working regular hours, leaving the house at 7:00 am and not returning until 6:00 pm. The Telephone repair man shows up.
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