Jumbled shouting of gossip and drama fill the dining hall as usual. I've grown numb to the sound, and my friend Pat and I have given up on trying to carry a conversation. We've just had a tough workout with the team before dinner, so most of us have dashed back to the dormitories after an almost-decent meal. By now I can tell that Pat's just keeping me company. He thinks I'm too sore too walk, but little does he know, I'm just waiting for Harnett to return to the room. I have big plans for the night, and they all depend on Harnett, my roommate and teammate, going back to the room. Until then, I'm an anxious, low-esteemed shell of my former self, leaning motionless into the sharp wooden chairs in the dining hall.

Sporadically throughout my weeks at McClain University takes over me and I find myself extremely attractive. This is what I call a Leon day. In those moments my softened jawline complements my naturally-furrowed eyebrows, my heavy nose adds dimension to my deep brown--almost black--irises, and my full lips are accented by the shallow pitch of my chin. These are the days in which I glow--not only does the shimmering copper hue of my skin glow, but pride and confidence seem to emanate from me as well. Even my butt perks up into a supple, yet firm, toned curvature leading into a smooth mountain of hamstring built after a decade of working out as a jumper in track & field. I could hardly be any more proud of myself during a Leon day. Today, however, is not one of those days.

Today, I feel like life is more of a burden than a gift. My heart is crushed, and when my heart is crushed, my spirit is crushed. All because of one man. My new best friend. My teammate, roommate, and soon to be ex-best friend. He's been driving me nuts lately--ignoring me in the room, leaving messes at the sink, showering for too long. I just need a few days of space from him, and I think I'll be able to stand him again. Of course, if he would just give me what I want, then we can bury the hatchet and pick up our friendship where it left off. If he would just give me what I want, then we could actually develop our friendship on a whole new level. If he would just give me what I want, then I wouldn't feel the need to dream about him as I lay sleepless, only an arm's reach beneath him in my bed, craving to crawl into his bed with him, whispering love to each other through the nights. If he can't give me what I want from him, then I don't want anything from him, but tonight may be the night that I get what I want.

"You ready to head back, man?"

"I don't know, Pat," I'm lying of course, "I'm freaking tired. I don't even feel like moving."

Giving up on being discrete, I gaze intently over the shallow balcony to monitor Harnett's activity five tables away. He's beginning to gather his dishes, but he keeps pausing to talk to his friends. I just need to see him walk away from the table before I begin timing. Five minutes is all the time I need between the two of us. Five minutes after he leaves the dining hall, I can leave the dining hall. Five minutes is all the time it will take for him to trust that I'm not coming back to the room, then slip out of his clothes and into the shower. If I sneak into the room while he's in the shower, then he'll walk back out of the shared bathroom without his towel on.

I've seen him do it twice. The first time I didn't expect it, so he actually startled me. Detecting my shock, he panicked and threw his towel over himself. That time I only saw his insanely toned cheeks, but that's my favorite thing about him. A close second favorite feature on him--something I discovered upon the second time I caught him after the shower only a few days ago--is his narrow-when-limp, flesh-pink-headed, creamy-white cock. It didn't take long before I learned to enter the room quietly while he showered.

The day I saw his effortlessly swinging dong, I had done it all perfectly. I sat on the side of my bed, so far over the edge that I was damn-near squatting rather than sitting, holding my phone in hand in an effort to look like I was texting, watching the door down the short hallway to the bathroom. Harnett walked through the door with his back turned toward me, gracing me with the sight of the cutest ass I have ever seen, before turned toward his closet door, flashing me in the process. Nervously, he covered himself and laughed, and I tried to be discrete and I shorted myself from absorbing the beauty of his tantalizingly suckable cock.

Tonight, when I see his naked body, I'm going to make a move.

*******

Pat's eyes scan mine, and I can tell he's getting impatient. I'm glad he's waiting with me because I don't want to sit at a twelve-seated table all alone anyway. Fortunately, it's been roughly three minutes since Harnett finally walked away from his table, dishes in hand.

"Alright, I guess I'm ready to go now," I moan to Pat. I can kill the remaining two minutes if I walk really slowly.

At the trough, I take my time sorting the napkins from the untouched food on my plate, sliding the banana peel out of my empty cup, and waiting for an empty rotating plastic in to set my dishes in. Once we break through the doors of Seper Hall, where the dining hall is, I begin studying the building ahead. McClain is a small campus, so Seper Hall is no more than four-hundred meters from my dormitory. If I stare hard enough, I can see my window from the top of the stairs, through the trees. I can see enough to determine that the light is indeed on, meaning Harnett has made it into the room. I can't resist smiling as I think about him peeling his clothes off, leaving them in a pile for me to step over at the door. The short, white compression shorts he wears regularly underneath his shorts at practice always look so tempting on the floor. There's a web of holes spreading from the crotch, and I like to imagine brown man-fur peaking through them as he wears the shorts.

The three-minute walk goes by like mere seconds, and it's time for Pat and I to go our separate ways at the stairwell. In order to prevent any conversational delays, I immediately begin walking up the stairs, telling Pat I will seem him later--that I absolutely have to shower now because I feel gross and tired and etcetera. He doesn't put up a fight, and when he disappears around the corner, I bolt up the stairs and turn down the hallway on the second floor. Still moving swiftly, I bound on my toes to prevent making any extra noise while I remove my keys from my pocket, pinching each individual piece of metal so that they don't clack against one another announcing my presence at the door.

From the hallway, I can hear the shower running. My dick stands up as if I called it's name, and I almost let out a giddy chuckle as I quietly maneuver my key into the lock. Without a sound I manage to close the door and creep over Harnett's pile of clothes, and to my bed. He's powered on the hallway light, but the central light is still off so I am sort of in the shadows. The fall air is crisp outside so the heating unit is humming it's usual tune, disguising the inevitable sounds of my undressing. I want to be wearing nothing but my athletic shorts when Harnett steps out of the door. That way he can see my obvious bulge.

A minute passes by like a lifetime, and the shower water is still running. I knew there was a chance I'd have to wait a while, but I'd rather be early than late. My bulge is dying as my nerves kick in. I can't shake the fear of 'What if he thinks this is weird' or 'What if he tells someone about this'. I shake the thoughts in my head while shaking my dick in my hand. I need this tonight.

Silence blankets the bathroom as the water shuts off. Only seconds now before he dries off and marches proudly through the bathroom door. I can already taste his cock sliding down my throat, the heat of the mounds of muscle in his ass, his squared off fingertips on my shoulders.

The door handle rattles, and I know this is the moment of fight or flight, but I won't let myself leave. In less time than it takes to form a word, he cascades through the door, eyes fixed so acutely on the metal handle behind him that he doesn't even know I'm staring.

A bead of water drips from his ear, and splashes onto his broad shoulder. My eyes play along his neckline, then flirt down to his nipples--which look like nothing special to me, but knowing that they belong to him makes me want to lick them too. His chest is more defined than his abs, but his legs are so long that you can't spend too much time focusing on his torso. Two ridges of muscle craft a v-shaped runway down to his blonde-brown fluffy bush that I can't wait to feel against the bridge of my nose. And as soft and inviting as ever, Harnett's penis nestles itself into his nut sack.

I want to lick it all.

"Oh, dude, hey!" Harnett sounds alarmed, but I can't let this moment pass.

As he reaches for the towel over his right shoulder, I tense up with the fear that I'll have to wait another night for the chance at his body.

"Stop," I somehow muster the strength to say. Without even knowing how I got there, I'm squatting on my toes at his feet and his balls are in my mouth.

I can't even believe it's happening. I didn't think twice before I did it, otherwise I wouldn't have even gotten this far. He could reject me forever, spread the story to everyone I know, and get me kicked out of school--McClain is a Christian university, and the rules against sexual acts are clear. Regardless, I want him too bad to wait any longer.

The skin on his balls is thin like a plastic bag, and the smell of his masked odor is hypnotic. Random hairs find their way in and out of my mouth, and the saliva I've gathered all tastes like Harnett. No matter what happens next, I will always know that I've sucked on his balls, and that's an accomplishment already.

"Leon, what are you doing!"

Muffled by his sack, I mutter, "Harnett, please just let me do this." I can't even bring myself to explain. I want every second of this before he pushes me off of him.

He places his hands firmly on the side of my head, and with my eyes closed in ecstasy I feel like balls begin to slide away from my tongue. He doesn't want it. I've just thrown myself at him, and he doesn't even want it. I feel so dirty that I can't even open my eyes. I feel like a slut. A gay slut. He never even knew I felt this way about men, but now it's all out in the open for him.

*******

Bracing myself for both a blow to the head and berating language, I tense up with my eyes squeezed shut. I can hear him lowering himself, and my heart restarts when I feel flesh against my lips, and open my eyes to see his eyes passionately closed as he kisses me gently. Once his tongue pierces my lips, I'm weightless.

Before I can fight for balance, I collapse backward onto the floor. His tongue never leaves my mouth. One sexy, long leg races against mine,

pinning me to the floor with his other leg bent, kneeing me in the gut. I would love so see his ass right about now as his legs form the number seven on top of me. That hole has to be exposed in this position.

He breathes into me, heavy with body heat, "Leon, I'm going to fuck the hell out of you tonight. I hope that's what you wanted."

Words escape me inaudibly. All I do is grunt in agreement, moaning to let him know that there is nothing he can do that I don't want.

Finally I remember how perfect his ass is, and I reach both hands around his body to hold it. Each mountain of muscle fits neatly into my cupped palm, still moist from the shower, and I squeeze once before his hands speed around to grab my wrists. He pulls my left hand in between the two of us down to his cock. Precum latches onto my knuckle from his head, and I know that he wants me to grab on, so I do. Removing his hand, he pins my wrist between our waists. I can hardly move my hand, but I squeeze tightly while he pumps his shaft in and out of my grateful fist. Soon, he assumes control of my right hand with both of his hands. Without slowing the rhythm of our make-out session, he pulls my pointer finger, folding the rest into a fist, and begins stroking his anus with it. Even though it's my hand, I get a little jealous. For months, I've wanted to see that hole, and now he gets to control how much I enjoy it.

"Harnett, please," I'm begging like a bitch, "I want you so bad. Please, let me have you. I want you so bad."

"Yeah?" His whisper is so sexy, and powerful, "You want me, Leon? Finger that ass."

I obey, still hardly believing that I've gotten this far with my teammate. We've known each other for about a year now, and not once have we even so much as kissed--now I'm fingering his ass hole, waiting for him to decide to fuck me.

At last he sits up, and my hand is free. While I go to town on his hole, slipping my middle and pointer fingers in and out, I finally get to see his equipment in full swing. With my fist clenched at the middle of the shaft, there are still several inches to go to the head. I could probably wrap both hands around it and there would still be enough flesh exposed for me to suck on if he would let me sit up and do it.

He grabs my cock and begins working it. Without hesitation he jack-rabbits it--it actually hurt more than I'm sure he intended. As long as I get to explore his body, I don't care how bad it hurts.

After minutes of obeying his every command, I finally roll him off of me. I kiss him once as he sits on his heels, then I bow over to deep throat his cock. Like a hyperactive kid in a candy store, I want to try everything as quickly and as often as possible. I kiss him one more time, this time gripping his glutes in my palms. Remembering how I've longed for this ass, I guide him to hoist himself up so that I can get my face between his legs, beneath his crotch. As I lay on my back, his cock slaps me in the forehead, and I can see him smile. I've never cared for his smile, but everything else looks so good that I would be a fool to dwell on that. I slide myself underneath him, wrap my hands around his hips, and pull him down onto me.

The first effort is a fail, and I only get a mouthful of taint hair, but I got to see his tan hole open up ever so slightly as he sat on my nose. Pushing him up with my palms on his glutes again, I slide a little further up so that I can actually lick his hole. It tastes like you would expect an anus to taste, but the smooth texture of the slick skin along the inside of the hole is a treat. At this point my senses are overloaded with him. With ever swallow, I swallow the salt of his skin. With every inhale, I suffocate on the essence of his perfect ass. His inner thighs massage my hands, muscles flexing as he rides my mouth. Like a geometric heart, his cheeks grace my eyes with their flawless depth and symmetry. Vulnerable, yet somewhat cocky moans of pleasure are music to my ears.

He sprawls out one good time for me, leaning forward, arching his back, opening his hole for me to really make-out with it. After a few teasing seconds, he stands to turn around and then kneels over my face to shove his cock back in my mouth. It happens so fast that I choke as his head smashes against the back of my throat. Even though I'm gagging, he doesn't let up. My eyes are watering, but I don't want to quit. He is so gorgeous. I want him to cum where I lay, and let his cock rest in my mouth until he's ready to come again. I have never felt this way before--so insatiably turned on.

After fifteen painful seconds of gasping for air, he lets me breathe, pulling his shaft out of me--leaving me empty and hungry for more. With two fingers, he taps me on the side of my butt. Somehow I know that it means 'roll over, bitch'. I roll over onto my stomach, and a small piece of carpet debris buries into my shaft. It feels like I'm being pierced, but I couldn't move even if I wanted to. By this time, Harnett has spread my legs and pinned my knees down with his own. His hands keep my waist suspended higher than my head, as my face rubs against the hard carpeted floor. My legs are spread so wide that I can feel like groin stretching, and a cold breeze bats at my raised hole. It feels so relaxing--almost like someone's squirting a thin stream of water into my anus.

Instantly, without time for disputing, something punches my hole with immense force. My hole pushes back, and at that second the fight is lost. A cold pole slides into me against my body's will. I can count the seconds it takes for the sliding to stop, and the frigid, foreign object can be felt in my gut. I have made certain that I'm silent enough not to alarm my suitemates, but it hurt like nothing I've felt before. Still my anal walls are trying to reconcile with the pain, fighting to close back up--losing the fight again, again, and again.

"It stings. What are you doing, man?"

"You wanted this, didn't you?" Harnett answers, and just as I recognize that his furry bush is pressed against the top of my ass crack, he begins thrusting like a wild animal in heat.

"Ah! Harnett, wait!" I want it so bad, but I just need a second to relax my hole. It feels like it's literally tearing apart.

He ignores my hushed whimpers, and pounds away. I don't want to cry, but my eyes begin leaking. I never thought this could hurt so bad, but I can't shout too loudly and risk letting someone else know what's going on in here.

*******

My cock has lost all excitement, and it is now limp and safely tucked into my balls. I reach ahead for the extended section of wall next to the bathroom door and begin to pull myself away from Harnett, but mere seconds after I slide his cock head to the very edge of my hole, he clutches my waist and crashes me back into him. My body goes numb in defeat and imminent agony, but I can feel his nails digging into my skin. I at least imagine that he drew blood down there.

Learning helplessness, I lay motionless on the ground--a pained rag doll to be fucked by the body I thought I so dearly wanted. I have to make him cum so he can get out of me. I never realized how strong he was until I needed to get away from him. My legs have literally gone numb, and I'm worried he may have damaged something inside of me. I know I can take seven inches of cock, but it has to be eased in slowly first--not crammed instantly without control.

"Harnett, please cum. Please! Just cum!"

"Yeah, boy?" He raises his voice condescendingly, "You want my cum in your ass?"

"Yes! Please, just cum." Although it hurts like hell, I still want his cum. That part doesn't need much acting. "Please give me your cum. Give me your cum."

I echo the phrase periodically in hopes that he'll shoot his load and let me heal. Apparently it doesn't help at all because after about five minutes, the only thing that has changed is his tempo--fast, to extra fast, kind of fast, then just fast again. He's a 400-meter runner, but I didn't think he had this much strength and stamina--especially after a tough workout on the track.

"Shit, Leon, I'm going to wear these walls out," he warns me as if my anus isn't already damaged property at this point.

He picks me up without even pulling out first, and still has the capacity to maneuver my body like I am literally weightless. He spins my body around so that I'm facing him. Splitting pain jolted through me as his no-longer-lubricated cock twists my rectum like a used wash cloth.

I cry out, and he responds by pulling my closer, arms wrapped beneath my knees, hands on my shoulder blades, "I'm almost there, baby." He kisses me, and I'm worried he'll see the tears rolling down my cheek. "I love you, Leon. You know that right?"

He picks up the tempo and begins slamming me, using my entire body light as a flesh-light toy without any participation from my end. He's slamming me so hard that I can't see straight. At this rate I'm worried that my neck will snap backward, or I'll get whiplash.

In a final plea, I whine, "Harnett, I can't take anymore. Please."

He pauses for a brief moment, and his eyes soften as he stares into mine. The pureness of his friendship seeps into me, and I suddenly can't believe what I've just gotten into with him. I can never view him the same again.

Wrecking the moment, he pounds me just a few more times before, "Oooh fuck, Leon. Shit, shit, shit, I'm cumminnng--aaah!"

"Dude, you're so loud. Be quiet." There's no way our suitemates can't hear this.

Squirts of cum rush through my ass. I feel each shot, and it's both

a relief and a turn on. My toes curl thinking of what it must look like in there.

"Yes! Take it--oooh--Leon, fuck! I can't pull out man," He notifies me as his head jerks back as if he's in pain. Every other second his body pulses, shivers, and jerks. His head must be extremely sensitive. "Damn it!"

I try to help get him out of me because, quite frankly, it still hurts like hell. When I press down on his shoulders in order to climb off of his cock, he tenses up again, and it only thrusts him further inside of me.

"Oh, no!" This time I was too loud, but he rushed back into me so

quickly that I thought I felt something inside of me pop. We are going to be in big trouble for sure.

As his cock begins to slither out of my hole I can feel a river a cum pouring out of me. Some of it splatters with a dense thud to the floor beneath me. It sounds so thick--like a wet cloth hitting the floor.

I can tell he's almost out of me now because it hurts worse than ever before. I feel like his head's just splitting my anus all over again.

I can't take anymore, and I slide my hips upward really quickly. He drops me, and as his dick pops out of my hole--at last--I go crashing to the floor just in time for one more delayed shot of cum to squirt from his glorious tip onto my quivering lower lip.

Even pissed off, and hurt I can't resist him. I lurch forward and gobble down his cock one last time--this time savoring the thick, sticky, pungent cream still seeping out of him. He grunts and moans before calming,and taking my head into his hands yet again. After three quick pumps into my throat, he slithers out of me again and kneels in front of me.

"This is how you got into trouble in the first place." With a cute,

coy grin he pulls me in for a hug. Then a kiss. "I really do love you. I

didn't think I could ever have you though."

This is a complete shock to me. "Harnett, I think I love you too."

He pushes me onto the floor--unknowingly pressing my shoulder blade

into his pile of cum--grabs my hand, and laces his fingers with mine. On my

chest he lays his head, as if listening for my heartbeat. Without raising

his head, he kisses my nipple and says "I never want to leave you."

I never want to leave him either. We lay breathless with one

another waiting to fall asleep--both of us pretending that we are safe, and that no one else will ever know what happened here this evening.

 

Gimchy

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