Father, Son, Movies and More

Hi! This is Julian, and I'm writing Chapter 5, because dad insisted that I tell about my first semester's sexual experiences in college. You see, dad thinks that all I do in college is have sex. If only that was true! I'm taking five classes (three of them with term papers due at the end of the semester and all with final exams) and I’m volunteering with two campus organizations. I'm busy and don't have the time to "play" that dad imagines. But, a few things did happen. So, to appease dad, here is my story about some experiences during my first semester.

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On move-in day, dad and I lugged clothes, books, college supplies, a laptop, TV, small carpet, and computer chair up five flights of stairs to my dorm room, sweating like farm animals. We explored campus and ate in the cafeteria (food rating: not bad). Back in the room, dad and I embraced in a goodbye hug. I knew dad was miserable and all I could say was "I'll see you at mid-semester" and "I love you." When dad departed, I felt sad for him because he was alone but excited to be at college living on my own.

I couldn't wait to meet my dorm mate — I’d anticipated it for months — and he soon arrived. He introduced himself as J. Lloyd Brenwerth, III, but said I could call him “J. Lloyd!” Then, my dorm mate proceeded to tell me that his "daddy," J. Lloyd Brenwerth, II, was rich and well connected and probably more successful than anyone else’s father at the school. He asked what my dad did for a living and, when I told him, he snickered! He also said, “I spent the summer touring the state with a state representative, adding that "someone like me probably didn't have the chops" to be interested in politics! And, all this, while wearing an ascot! Who the hell wears an ascot on a hot day in August? I knew within five seconds of meeting this moron that he was a complete fucking jerk. I resolved to never call him “J. Lloyd” but to refer to him as “F’ing Asshole!”

I staggered out of my dorm room with the horrible realization that I had to live with this pompous POS for nine months. Suddenly, freshman year looked bleak indeed. There’s a saying that when one door closes another door opens. Thankfully, that was now true for me! Moments after I emerged from my room, I saw an attractive guy moving into a room down the hall. (Blond and blue, about my height at six feet, nice muscular definition, a form fitting white t-shirt, a flat stomach.) Like a birder seeing a rare avian species, my radar honed in on him. I casually sauntered by his room, and checked him out. (My rating: "Wow!") Of course, that meant I had to walk past his room a second time. This time, I worked up the courage to introduce myself. His name was Kevin. We chatted for a few minutes before agreeing to meet at 6:00 to get dinner in the cafeteria.

Post dinner, we returned to Kevin’s room, where I regaled him with a description of my roommate, “F’ing Asshole.” While I was telling him about the ascot, Kevin pulled out a contraband bottle of vodka.

“I think you need a drink.”

“God, yes!” Kevin had diagnosed the situation perfectly.

Seven or more vodkas on the rocks later (I'd quickly forgotten dad's numerous lectures on the evils of college drinking), I’m "shit faced." (I believe that's a medical term!)  As I begin to navigate the approximately 150 feet back to my room, I realized I couldn’t walk that distance without assistance, so I held onto the wall as a guide. The trip was without incident, until the wall said something to me and moved, and I fell down. After crawling the remaining distance to my room (I think), F’ing Asshole took one look and denounced me as a “disgusting drunk.” I wanted to beat the living hell out of him but, since I was sprawled on the floor, my punches would've only hit him in the shin!. 

The next evening at dinner (still hungover and my head the size of a watermelon) I asked Kevin what we talked about in his room (Kevin handled the alcohol much better than I did). “Hmmm, let’s see. You said that your dad raised you, your mother wasn’t in the picture, you had no siblings, you and your dad spent a wonderful month in Europe when you were 16, and you’re gay.”

OMG! My heart sank. Would I lose my first friend on the second day of college?

“And,” continued Kevin, “I said I had two brothers and two sisters, I was the middle child, my father is a tax attorney and my mom a real estate agent, I’m straight, and I don’t care if you’re gay.”

OMG! Thank you, Kevin! A friendship was born. 

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I joined the gay student group on campus. During the semester, the group set up booths outside football and basketball games in order to be “visible,” pamphleteered on important campus issues, supported student council candidates, and had “socials” every few weeks. At one social, I met the gay Toldisin twins, Tim and Tom. They were exact replicas of each other, except Tom had a scar under his left ear where Tim slashed him with a toy sword when they were about four years old. (“He tried to kill me, because he was jealous of my good looks,” Tom explained.) They were 6’2”, with brown hair, hazel eyes, thin, not muscular builds (but they had started working out), and slightly uncoordinated, as if they hadn’t quite grown into their bodies. Both were quick with a quip.

“We’re introducing ourselves because you’re ‘hot,’” one of them said.

"Plus, you have a nice bulge," the other added.

“Otherwise, we’re shallow and would’ve ignored you,” the first one said.

“Is that the way you usually introduce yourselves,” I replied, completely flummoxed by who was who even after the introductions. 

“I know it’s hard to tell us apart, but I’ve got the bigger dick.” Tom may have said that. I hadn’t learned to stay to their left to see who had the scar. 

“My brother lies a lot. You’ll see, my dick is obviously bigger. Maybe, you can measure mine sometime? You'll need a yardstick though!”

“I have a protractor in my room,” I replied. “It measures things up to 4 inches long. Judging by appearances, there’s no need for anything larger!”

“Rrrrrrooowwww,” one said, imitating a wild cat. “I like you.” The other nodded. 

"Maybe, you shouldn't," I added. "My minimum required cock measurement is12 inches. If you don’t measure up, we can't be friends. I'm shallow too."

Although we didn’t have any classes in common, we did have classes at the same time on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, allowing us to meet for lunch on those days. We were at lunch a couple of days after the social.

“My brilliant brother got called on today in American History, and he didn’t know what he was talking about,” Tom said. “He blew so much smoke out of his ass, we almost had to call the fire department.”

“Well, I was day dreaming.” 

“I'll say! You started bloviating about the Pilgrims at Plymouth Rock, but the prof asked you about the Jamestown settlers and their governing documents.”

“In other words, you're saying Tim was a total douche and embarrassment in class,” I added helpfully. 

A great looking, muscular guy walked by our table. “Hello, Pilgrim!” Tim said. “I’d like to see that guy’s governing documents!”

"I bet the docs mandate large dicks," I said.

Maybe, you could take your protractor and measure Mr. Stud,” Tom said to me.

“I think I'll need more than a protractor for him!" I paused before continuing, "By the way, I still haven’t measured you guys.” I tapped my fingers on my chin, as if contemplating a missed opportunity. “I guess that was just a story to lure an innocent and naive youngster, like me, to your dark den of iniquity.”

“Like everyone, you’re desperate to see our enormous cocks and muscled bodies. Ditch the protractor and bring your yardstick,” Tim continued. 

“Just come up to our room and chill for a while tonight,” Tom said.

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Of course, when I knocked on the twins’ door that night, I brought my protractor.

“City cock inspector!” I said, entering the room, waiving the protractor.

"Yikes, it's the cock police," responded Tom.

“How 'bout some chips?” Tim said.

“Are you trying to bribe a public servant?” I replied. Tim laughed and tossed me an unopened bag of potato chips.

“TV, anyone?” Tom asked.

We watched 20 minutes of an unfunny comedy show. I finished my chips, stretched, yawned, and announced it was time to go.

“You’re leaving? You’re just a cock tease,” Tim sniffed.

“Not true! No one produced a cock to measure,” I pointed out. "I'm thinking you didn't have cocks." 

To my surprise, Tim pulled the waistband of his shorts down to the base of his cock, exposing his pubes. “Here ‘tis,” he announced. 

I leaned in with protractor in hand. Tim ever so slowly kept pulling his shorts down, revealing more and more of his shaft. I tried to contain my mounting excitement. Was I about to see the Toldisin twins naked? Finally, the shorts passed the head of his cock, exposing it all. I immediately laid the protractor on Tim’s inner thigh next to his cock and measured.

“Just as I thought,” I announced sadly, “Your penis measures only three inches!"

“You can’t measure it soft!” Tim almost shouted. "Unfair!"

“Too small. We can't be friends,” I concluded.

“Tim’s right,” Tom said. “You can’t measure soft.”

“You want me to measure hard? How are we going to do that?” I said, as if this was an insurmountable scientific problem.

“I know,” said Tim pushing his hips up toward me.

I watched Tim's cock come toward my face. When it was within a few inches, I quickly moved my body forward and touched the head of his penis with my tongue. I twirled my tongue around the tip and heard groans from Tim and an "Oh, my God," from Tom. I rotated my body, so that I was facing up, placed my head between Tim's thighs, and started licking the underside of his shaft like a popsicle. That caused Tim’s cock to rapidly lengthen. When it was hard, I again rotated my body so that my head was above Tim's crotch and slid his cock into my mouth. Tim whimpered, as his shaft disappeared down my throat. I bobbed my head up and down and was soon deep throating Tim, almost burying my nose in his pubic hair.

"Hey, don't forget about me," Tom whined.

"Get your own cocksucker!" Tim responded. "I call dibs on Julian."

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, don't fight over me," I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tom move his semi-hard cock (his pants had disappeared) next to my cheek, impatient for action. I quickly switched to Tom’s cock, sucking it down my throat. It was completely hard in seconds. I didn’t want to ignore Tim, so I wrapped my hand around his hard shaft and masturbated him while sucking Tom. 

I interrupted my sucking to say, “I should measure now.”

Both Tom and Tim replied “No” at the same time. “Keep sucking!” said Tom. (By the way, I estimated 6 to 6 1/2 inches!)

I moved my mouth from Tom to Tim and back again. I did everything I could think of — tonguing the heads of their cocks, licking their balls, taking their shafts down my throat, nibbling their tits briefly. When I concentrated on one cock, my hand jacked on the other's shaft. The groaning, moaning, and petitions to God were continuous.

Tim said, "I'm going to cum."

I kept sucking on his shaft..

"I'm cuming!" 

I grabbed the base of Tim's cock to make sure he didn't pull out of my mouth. Seconds later, I discovered that the twins had an unknown talent — they could produce copious quantities of semen. Tim unloaded a blast of cum deep in my mouth. Instead, of stopping after two or three shots, as I expected, Tim continued shooting until my mouth was flooded with his spunk. When he finished, I tried to swallow his nectar with one gulp, but I couldn't. Instead, it took a second gulp to clear my mouth. Next, Tom stepped forward and I sucked down his shaft until he orgasmed, sending an equally huge volume of cream into my mouth. I actually choked for a second or two before successfully swallowing it down. Then, with my mouth, I eagerly cleaned their cocks of any remaining jism and mucus, so they could put on their clothes.

I never actually measured their hard cocks, but no one minded. 

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Two weeks later, I was in Kevin’s room, comforting him over the breakup of his 10-day romance with a freshmen girl. They’d had “good sex,” according to Kevin, and he couldn’t understand why she ended it. Kevin was convinced he’d never date or have sex again. After a 45-minute conversation, trying to convince him otherwise, he asked, “By the way, where were you last night? I dropped by your room several times and you weren't there.”

“I met two guys — twins — who live on the 6th floor, east wing. I hung with them. They’re great guys. Have you met them by chance? Tim and Tom Toldisin.”

“Nope, can't say that I have. How'd you meet?’

I explained that we met in the gay group and that we ate lunch together most Tuesdays and Thursdays.

“What do you and the twins do? Play video games? What video games do they like?"

“Ahhh.” I didn’t quite know how to respond. I didn't want to lie to Kevin, but I didn't know if I could tell him the truth. After all, a straight guy can tell about his sexual exploits even to gay friends, but can a gay guy do the same, even if he's telling his best straight friend? I also knew that Kevin was lonely and dispirited right now and casting about for something to do. I decided it was best to be honest now, because Kevin might want to hang out with the twins and me and that wouldn’t work. If I wanted to be openly gay, this was an issue that I had to deal with.

“Well," I said, "they don't do video games." A pause before I continued, "We play around. Sexually. I give them blow jobs!”

Kevin stared at me, maybe trying to decide if I was pulling his leg. He must've decided I wasn't because he said, "Good for you!  At least, you're getting some.” Kevin paused for a bit trying to process this information and then said, "You've been keeping secrets. I tell all about my exploits, but you don’t."

"Well, I didn't know how you'd react. Gay sex and all.”

 “You should know I don't care. I believe gay people can have sex. Especially on Thursday nights!" He grinned. I grinned. Everything was all right between us. 

"Well, I'm celibate for a while, I guess," Kevin continued. "But, I'm so horny all the time, I can't stand it."

"Not my business, but you jack off, right?"

"As often as I can, but it's not the same thing."

“I know, but what else can ya do?” I paused and thought a second. My asshole twitched. My next few statements were the equivalent of a high-dollar play in Vegas. “We’re tight, right?” 

“Yeah, definitely.”

"We're always honest with each other, right?

"Yeah."

“Well, I was thinking. I could provide you relief, if you know what I mean.” I laid my bet on the table. Would I lose a friend?

Kevin gave me a stunned look. “Are you? Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” I nodded. “Oh, man, that’s, that’s. I don't know what to say!”

Kevin didn't know what to say, but he didn't say 'no.’ Was he interested? I was getting a hard on, thinking about doing it with him.

“I am horny,” continued Kevin.

“I know I’m not your type …”

“Yeah, no breasts!”

“My flat breasts will have to do,” I said.

“No kissing. I'd never kiss a guy.”

A good sign; he's laying out some rules. "Okay, no kissing,”

Kevin still hadn't said 'no.' Or, ‘yes’ for that matter. I made my "sales pitch" and pulled off my t-shirt and threw it on the floor. Kevin looked at me, contemplating what to do. Or, maybe he was thinking I was crazy!

"What do you say?” I could see confusion on Kevin's face. He was interested but reluctant. "If it doesn't hurt our friendship, I'm ready." I waited 15 seconds; the longest 15 seconds of my life. Then, I stood and unbuttoned my shorts. I waited a few seconds before pulling them slowly down. Soon, gravity took over and my shorts dropped to the floor around my feet. I stood in front of him in white boxer briefs with a nice and growing bulge in front.

"Well, I," Kevin said and stopped. He stared at me, as I slipped my thumbs under the waistband of my underwear, pulled them past my hips, and let them drop to the floor too. I stood before him naked and hard! My worry was that I’d gone too far, too fast. 

Kevin looked around the dorm room, trying to ignore my hard, throbbing cock. At last, he looked at me. "Well, fuck! Let's give it a try! But, I don’t do dick, either.”

Euphoria! "Understood. No dick,” I said, as calmly as I could, but I was screaming “Yes” inside!

I’d made a winning bet! My heart was beating wildly with lust. I approached Kevin and said, “For this to work, you’re going to have to take your clothes off.” 

Kevin nodded, silently acknowledged my logic, and slowly disrobed. He was soon naked, I was rock hard. This was going to be fun! 

Kevin asked, “Now, what?”

“Sit on the bed!” When Kevin did so, I spread his legs, knelt between them, took hold of his cock, and licked it once with my tongue. A lick I wanted to remember forever. 

After that single lick, I looked at Kevin and said, “Last chance to say ‘no.’” There was no response.

I worried that maybe I couldn’t get a straight man hard, but I needn’t have. I sucked Kevin’s cock into my mouth. My tongue and mouth action got him hard fast. He was horny! I subjected the head of his penis to a vigorous tongue bath; my hand holding the base of his shaft. Next, I swallowed most of his cock. As he leaned back on his elbows, Kevin rewarded me with continuous sharp air intakes. He was enjoying my mouth work. I momentarily removed Kevin’s cock from my mouth to admire his hard cock covered in my saliva.

I re-swallowed his 7 inches and started working it over. As I sucked on Kevin’s cock, my ass was twitching non-stop. I’d given the twins several blow jobs recently, but tonight my ass wanted action. If Kevin was as horny as he claimed, maybe I could coax more than a blow job out of him. I climbed around Kevin and laid on my back on the bed and simply said, “Fuck me!”

“What?”

“I need it! I’m horny too.”

"I've never fucked a guy."

"Duh. But, now's your chance."

Kevin didn’t hesitate. He was all in now. He got on his knees and positioned himself between my legs. I held my legs in the air. He rested his cock directly on my hole and said, “Here goes!”

Nothing happened! "I think you have to push harder," I said.

"Won't that hurt?"

"Probably, but the pain will go away."

Kevin pushed harder and the head of his cock popped into my hole. I grunted. Kevin panicked, fearing he had permanently injured me. Not surprisingly, I needed to instruct Kevin on how to have gay sex, because he feared that everything he did would hurt me. Our conversation went something like this; Me: "Deeper!" Kevin: "Won't that hurt?" Me: "Some, but it'll feel so good." A few minutes later; "Thrust deeper!" Kevin: "That'll hurt for sure." Me: "No! It’ll feel good." Me: "Get all the way in. Grind your pubic hair on my crack!" Kevin: "Won’t that injure you?” Me: "No! That'll feel even better." Me: "Pick up your pace! Fuck harder!" I think you can guess Kevin's response, although I have to give him credit for following instructions!

Kevin was a quick learner. He was soon thrusting his cock hard and deep up my chute. He fucked good and had me moaning and groaning and gasping and panting quickly. I flipped over on my stomach and Kevin reinserted his dick and, without hesitation, drove it deep into me. As he fucked me hard and fast, Kevin braced his hands beside my torso. At times, the weight of his chest would lay on my back. The warmth and weight of his body and the hot breathing in my ear felt so erotic. Kevin didn't realize it, but he started to hit my prostate. That sent shivers of ecstasy through my body. ("No, Kevin, my gasps aren't gasps of pain!") Wow! Being fucked hard and deep, by a friend, by a great looking straight guy, who is hitting my prostate with almost every thrust. I couldn't ask for more. My bet was turning out better than I dared hope. 

After I'd flipped around again onto my back, I couldn't hold out anymore. My hard cock started pulsating streams of cum onto my chest and stomach. Kevin watched my orgasm and was truly surprised that I could cum while enduring the "pain" of being fucked. Kevin continued thrusting, as my cum rolled off my body onto the sheets or pooled in the middle of my chest.

I learned something about Kevin — he had stamina. He fucked me hard and relentlessly for about 30 minutes (maybe even a little more)! As much as I enjoyed every second of it, I wondered if my hole could survive the pounding. Soon, even Kevin reached the point where he couldn't continue. Kevin announced he was going to cum. “Where should I shoot?”

“Cum inside me!”

“I can't do that?”

“Yes, you can! Shoot in me!.”

Kevin obliged, letting out a loud grunt and gushers of semen poured deep up my chute. He continued to grunt and gasp, until he was spent. I intertwined my fingers behind my head and smiled, as Kevin withdrew his cum covered cock and sat back on his haunches. I was thinking, “What a fabulous fuck!” I also enjoyed the slight tickle from the trickle of cum that oozed from my hole.

After some hard breathing and small talk, I noticed Kevin’s cock getting hard again. Kevin said, "When I fuck, I always do it twice. Can you go another round?"

Can I go another round? Of course, I can! Bring it on!

I watched with curiosity as he reinserted his now hard cock back into my ass! He slowly started to fuck me again, using his cum as lube. I could hear faint squishing sounds as Kevin's cock pushed and pulled the semen around inside my hole. Kevin was soon fucking me hard and deep again. Oh, man, did that feel good! He fucked me for another 12-15 minutes (I'm not a clock watcher, but I thought this was impressive) and again battered my prostate, leaving me squirming with delight. Finally, Kevin unloaded a second stream of spunk in my hole which, combined with the first load, created a wonderful mess of goo in my ass, in my crack, and on the sheets!

We slept side by side naked that night.