Russel and Matt

Russel

1

What the fuck! I start, as this dude places his lunch tray on the table and sits his sorry butt, facing me. I’m a fucking loner. I eat my lunch alone. I jog alone. Even in the dorms, very rarely does any other dude come over for a visit or a chat. I like to keep to myself and I almost always find other people annoying and shallow.

I give the guy my ugliest expression, stopping my chewing to emphasize my lack of appreciation at his barging into my space. My space? Well, hardly, since the cafeteria is already crowded and I notice that most the tables are taken. Still.

“Hi,” the dude brashly smiles. Fuck! I don’t need any conversation on top of the raping of my space. I glare at him, but I sort of realize that I can’t be a real dick to a simple friendly hi, can I?

I nod my head, swallow, still glaring. “Hi.” My greeting sounds grumpy to my ears, but fuck it, I did greet back, didn’t I.

The dude keeps his smile and I notice two little dimples in his face cheeks, just above the line of his fuzzy beard. I haven’t seen this dude before. Is it that he’s just being friendly? Or most probably because there are no available tables around? After all, I know that I don’t look like the friendliest person on earth. No, I’m not.

I resume munching on my lunch sandwich, trying to ignore the intrusion facing me. I rove my eyes all over the place except at his face. He seems to notice. He clears his throat between two bites on his burger.

“So you go to school here, huh?” he says. “I’m Matt, by the way.”

He’s not going to offer his hand for a handshake, now, is he? I shudder. This is getting too much for me. Maybe I should leave? Not polite. “Russel,” I grunt. “And… yes, I do,” I add, the grumpiness in my tone very apparent.

The dude doesn’t lose his smile, doesn’t get the hint, so obvious. He is insisting being a pain in the ass as he adds, “Yeah, it’s a good school. What are you majoring in?”

Fuck, this guy is as inquisitive as a tick in the butt.  “Graphic design,” I mumble and take a sip of my soda. I now glance up at his face as I swallow the cold drink. “You?” I hear myself ask, surprised that I’m even considering continuing this fucking conversation.

“Cooool,” Matt sings this out.

I glare at him. Is he making fun, or what? Why the singing tone? What’s so darned cool?

“I’m in graphic design, too. But I haven’t seen you around.”

Of course, he hasn’t. I rush into class a minute before it starts and rush out a minute it ends. I don’t recall any of the faces of my class mates. As if I care. But why does this shit of a guy care if we have met or not?

“Ok,” I rise, picking up my tray and drink, having had enough of this shit. “See you around.” I snicker to myself, as if that is a remote possibility.

Matt

2

I watch this dude walk away, his butt stretching the seat of his jeans, looking familiar somehow. Damn! I know that butt, that swagger.

My mind goes back to one of our class sessions when I have noticed that same butt hastily leaving the room as soon as the class ended. Yes, it must be the same guy. But he doesn’t seem so friendly, does he? He barely responded to my attempts at some kind of conversation. At least, he did come up with his name. Russel. An uncommon name. Uncommon butt. I inwardly smile at my lewd imagination. I often do that: imagine stuff. I bet that butt is fuzzy and as firm as a dried cake.

I like guys, evidently. I’m not really out or anything, trying to decide on a million issues. Besides, I really don’t look forward to all the heartache that I know coming out will bring me. I can enjoy all the eye candy on campus and my imagination works wonders, sumptuous food for my bouts of self-gratification.

I already have some material for this evening. Russel’s butt. My hands slowly pulling down his tight jeans and running all over his firm, muscular butt as his hard dick bounces out almost hitting me in the face.

Fuck, I’m hard. Maybe I can bring up the date for my visit to the toilets. Maybe he is there in one of the stalls, waiting for me, slowly stroking his 8-inch dick, sitting on the toilet seat with his legs spread. He has to have an 8-inch dick. I will him to have an 8-inch dick. God, I must be leaking.

I sigh, looking around the cafeteria, trying to control my erecting need, waiting for it to subside a little before I hurry to my next class. I’m trying to remember whether Russel is taking the same course with me as he does in the morning one. He looks so delicious in spite of all his grumpiness. I’m starting to think of him as a conquest. I have to devise ways. Has he mentioned whether he’s living in the dorms? This would be a great opportunity to hook him.

Darn it! Me and my imagination! The dude has not given any sign or indication that he might be interested in me, that he might even be gay. For all I know, what I will get when I advance on him is a hard smack across the face or a punch, a growl, and a “Get the fuck away, faggot!”

In a way he has come through as that kind of a dude. So much more exciting the challenge, though. This is not helping my nether region, which is still steely and stretching sideways inside my sweat pants.

With a heave, I rise, placing my tray in front of my crotch. I hurry to class. Is Russel there?

Oh well, you can’t win them all, can you? No, Russel is not taking this class. I sit in the back, hoping. He could be late, though. But the 45 minutes crawl by, and I haven’t heard a word of what is going on in class.

How will I get to meet Russel again? Maybe lunchtime in the cafeteria. I inwardly cross my fingers that he is staying in the dorms. I can imagine him being my roomie. Not like the asshole I have now. Mike is such a douche bag. He is the total opposite of Russel. Not that he is mean, but he has this body smell, garlic-y sweaty kind of smell that fill the room even right after he showers. And he throws his things all over the place.

Russel

3

I lean back and close my eyes, feeling the breeze brush my face. I don’t want to go to the dorms yet. I could visit the library, but going though musty, dusty books is not on the top of my list. I will just relax.

That was some guy during lunch. I wonder why he kept pestering me when I was just trying to eat my shit alone. I can’t blame him, though. I mean most of the people on campus are friendly. Even if total strangers, they smile and nod in the corridors or across the quad, or wherever. I probably scowl in response.

When will I grow out of my shell? I need to communicate better with people. But life in the company with me and myself is so much more comfortable, easier to handle. No drama, no complications.

But was that just being friendly? At lunch in the cafeteria? What with all the questions?

I don’t need that, really. A lunch buddy. Fuck that! Have I mentioned that I’m a loner and not about to change my status any time soon? Well, I am, and it’s fine and dandy.

I take in a deep breath, enjoying the different foliage scents, mixing and mingling. My eyes are closed, just in case another “friendly” dude passes by and wants to know my name and favorite color and all that shit.

Life is good. Campus is good. I have the chance of being away from all the hassle of home. Oh, Mom is ok. A bit pushy and inquisitive at times, well, most of the time, but it doesn’t bother me much. She does probe, though, especially regarding my social life, which is non-existent, and she does notice.

It’s dad. The asshole. I hate it when he comes home all grumpy and pouting, complaining about work issues and such. It dawns on me that grumpiness runs in our genes? I don’t want to be like my father. Don’t get me wrong. He provides for us, me and my little sister, Milly. He is paying for college, and I’m grateful, especially since he doesn’t complain about that at all. Still, the way he keeps to himself and sometimes keeps hammering me about my friends and how come I don’t have any. It’s none of his business, is it? Are all dads, well, most dads, like that, I wonder?

Time to hit my dorm room. Thank God, dad didn’t go cheap and have me in a double room with a mate. He has forked out the extra charge for my single room on the fourth floor. It has its own small bathroom with a shower, and a shelf with a hot plate, a water kettle, and a small fridge under it, all pretending to be a kitchenette. But that’s all I need really. A couple snacks and sodas in the fridge, a can of coffee and a mug. I’m all set.

I straighten up opening my eyes, and, what the fuck, there he is, the fucker from lunch, standing a few meters away, gazing down at me, the sun behind him.

“Wha…?” I growl, feeling my eyebrows knot, straightening up.

“Man, you look so… so taken, I mean, engrossed, in all these surroundings. You haven’t even noticed that I’ve been here watching for some time now.”

I can detect a smirk on his face. This guy has been watching me? What the fuck!

“Dude…” I start.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. I was just walking by and was attracted by the way you were relaxing. I thought you were asleep,” he snickered.

“No,” I grumbled, standing up.

With that, and a glare, I turn and walk over to the dorms. I do notice his glance down my body, at my crotch.

What a geek! Me, not him!

Matt

4

God, he’s beautiful. I’m mesmerized in front of this god.

What am I thinking? I have just sort of met him, if you call the fiasco of a conversation at lunch any kind of a decent meeting. But I’m already taken by him. What would I give to crawl between those stretched legs and bury my face inside that magnetic bulge!

I’m sick. Truly. Those eyes, closed and amazingly attractive. I feel the force. I’m so gone, I don’t even try to move. And what does he do, when he notices me? He scowls, grumbles something, and fucking walks away. I notice his crotch with a nice bulge. Again, that swinging butt, God, I’m sick.

Ok, maybe time for the toilet exercise. I know my eruption will be humongous when my imagination runs rampant. His position, laying back, legs stretched, but naked. I can see his thick bush and his hard man cock plastered up onto his belly reaching all the way up to his navel. It’s got to be 8 inches. Those nipples, round and pick, not overly large, separated by a stunning patch of dark hair.

I am running my fingers down his chiseled abs, willing myself not to go lower to the cut knob, round and pink and flared, the slit already glistening. My tongue flicks one of his nipples, moves sideways as he raises his arm, and reaches his pit, also covered with a patch of dark hair, curly and wet. I’m slobbering into his pit, taking in the heat and the woody man scent, my nostrils filled with wisps of hair. He is moaning.

What am I doing to myself? I need to get laid, that’s for sure. It’s been a while. The last one was a quick blow job in one of the park toilets near our home. The guy offered and I obliged. His cock was tangy and his cum, squirting inside my mouth, tasted bitter. I cummed on the floor as I squatted with my mouth full of a throbbing cock and strings of mangy sperm.

That’s me. A cock-sucking bitch! Taking cock down my throat from a total stranger. Well, I have mentioned I wasn’t ready to come out, haven’t I?

But this Russel? Jesus H. Christ. I can shout my gayness from the top of the campus clock tower just to spend a night with him, naked and horny  and hungry.

Well, not really! It’s my imagination again. No, I wouldn’t come out. Not even for a hunk like Russel. But why is he so grumpy? I mean, I haven’t done or said anything to make him so. He scowled at me, actually scowled! A fucking cute scowl. I bet if he scowls and grumbles like this as he is pounding my ass with his huge hard 8 inches of cock I’d be cumming gallons.

I’m such a sick bitch of a guy. I know it.

Russel

5

I fill the water kettle from the tap and turn it on. Reaching for the coffee can, I spoon in the grinds into the French press pot, three heaped spoonfuls, contemplating my two meetings with the dude. What’s his name again? Matt, yes.

To be honest, the guy’s intrusions are not really that bad. I have acted like a heel, I know. Grumping and scowling. But that’s me. I grump and scowl. Fuck!

I admit: I was stunned when I opened my eyes and saw him standing there, his dirty blond hair looking like a halo around his head filled with the sun rays hitting it from behind. He looked like an angel or something. Damn. But this guy is too much for me. I can’t take all this attention. First, seeking me out in the cafeteria. But did he? Seek me out? Maybe it was a coincidence and the dude is just friendly. Nothing’s wrong with that, is there?

Then again, for a second time, as I relaxed, he was there, like a spirit or something out of nowhere, gazing down at me.

Hey, wait a minute. It suddenly hits me: this Matt? Gay? Fucking dude lusting for me?

I haven’t noticed any indication of that, though. Where has this idea come from?

The water boils. I switch off the kettle and pour the water into the coffee pot, slowly, making sure the grounds are taking in the water. I stir the steaming brew with a wooden stick, my mind on Matt. What if he’s gay? I’m not homophobic. I’m not gay either. I know what I’m not, but do I have any idea what I am?

I fill my mug with the aromatic coffee, take a sip, scalding my tongue. God, it tastes good. I’m a coffee man. There! That’s who I am. A lonesome coffee guy. I snicker to myself as I move over to look out of my 4th floor window down on the campus grounds, alive with students striding back and forth. So full of life. And here I am, alone, in my room, sipping coffee, alone.

I strip, suddenly feeling the need of a shower. I’m kind of surprised to notice that my dick is not in its normal flaccid state. Sort of dangling halfway down between my thighs, not fully hard, but getting there.

What has got my dick moving, I wonder? It’s not the coffee, or the campus life, or my lonely room. Matt? Fuck that. I’m no queer.

I shake my head as I step into the shower. The cold water hits me hard, and my dick shrivels in response. I wait a minute feeling the water warm up. I regulate the heat and feel my muscles relax under the water massage.

My dick rises. I look down and smile. This dick needs some exercise. All it’s getting is some hand work. Not that I’m complaining. I like to jerk off. In the shower, in front of the mirror, in my bed watching porn. What’s it like to have a naked body under me? Nice round tits, pouting lips, spread thighs, a wet warm pussy. Or a willing Matt?

I reach down and stroke. My mind goes into high drive bringing up images of hot women taking my thick dick deep. I thrust my hips forward to meet my stroking palm. As I feel the build-up in my nuts, an image pops into my mind. I’m squirting onto Matt’s face and hair. I cum hard.

Matt

6

Scratching my head, I start to wonder. What can I do to get Russel?

But… what the fuck am I thinking? I am opening myself wide: for a beating, for a heartbreak?

Who cares? He’s so hot. I’ve been spending my time jacking off to his image leaning back in his tight jeans, his bulge out, his lean body stretched. I close my eyes: He’s straddling my naked body and jerking off at my face as I await his semen to hit my hair and lips and dribble onto my chest.

I explode, with vehemence. It’s so frustrating though. I rack my brain as to how I can approach Russel, build some kind of relationship, break through his apparent defenses, and eventually get laid by him. I’m that lucky, huh?

I know by now that Russel is taking one course with me. Also, that his room is up on the 4th floor whereas mine is on the 2nd floor. He must have dished out quite a sum of money to pay for a single room with a built-in bathroom and a small kitchenette. I have to make do with just the room, with the addition of the obnoxious Mike. I have to endure Mike’s crass behavior, unappealing physique, and horrible gagging body smell, when I’m pining for a god 2 floors above me.

Does Russel have a girlfriend? Oh, God, don’t let him have a boyfriend. I can deal with a girl. A lot of dudes can do both. And I can be quite persuasive when it comes to working a hard, throbbing dick.

I haven’t noticed Russel accompanying anyone to class or on campus. He seems to be a loner. So much the better for me. I can work with a loner, I think. But it has been a couple of weeks since I sat at his table for lunch and later gazed down at his beautiful body relaxing and lazing in the sun.

Two days ago, and as his normal way, Russel breezed into class just before the session started and quickly strode to the front seat near the windows. I was sitting in the seat right behind him. My stomach did its flipping as I gazed at his nape, the feeling of my hands grabbing that neck and pulling his head down to my lips as his cock invades me, lying naked under him.

I leaned in and whispered in his ear: “Hi.”

He jumped, making the prof look towards us to find the source of the low grumble that Russel emitted. I had to force down a loud giggle, covering my mouth and almost pissing in my pants. After the prof looked away, Russel turned his head sideways and whispered back: “You fucking scared the shit out of me, dude.”

That was the longest uttering that I have heard from him. My toes tingled, my body shuddered, my ass twitched, just hearing his low whisper. Go figure! What this guy can do to me, if ever we happen to be together, naked and lusting, I can hardly imagine, even using my vivid imagination.

The rest of the session was spent with me visualizing, eyes half closed, the room emptying, Russel grabbing me and yanking down my pants as he bends me over the back of one of the seats, fishing out his hard rod and giving it to me, rough and deep. I squeal, of course. He covers my mouth with his hand and I can feel his strength as he stifles my screams. His pounding is incessant and needy. He needs to empty his nuts inside me and I am dying for his semen. His grunting gets even louder as he leans on top of my back savagely biting the side of my neck, his cock thickening, and the flood of his juice filling my ass.

Ok, another class session spent in oblivion, resulting in an erection.

Russel

7

That Matt dude is starting to get under my skin. Not in a bad way though. Wherever I am, he pops up. Is he stalking me? I wonder what the fuck he wants. A friend, maybe. But campus is full of guys and girls. Why me? Or perhaps I’m being paranoid.

Lately, my jerking off rounds have included Matt. I’m totally confused. What is happening is beyond my comprehension and experience. Just before I feel the surge of cum churning out, his face immediately appears, causing forceful ejaculations that rack my body and leave me breathless.

I stop working on my English paper, due tomorrow, and pour myself another coffee, now just warm. I drink it all in one gulp. I’m being hyper, that’s for sure. I quickly grab my phone and wallet and go down for a stroll to clear my mind.

There he is, walking towards me across the quad, a smile on his cute face. The image of that face suddenly invades my mind, covered with my cum. What the fuck! Where am I getting these images from? I should really look for a girl and get laid. I’m getting too used to Matt, and it fucks with my head.

“Hey, Russel,” Matt greets me.

“Hey,” A grumble, as usual, probably coupled with a scowl.

That doesn’t faze him. “You care to join me for a coffee?”

He hits a soft spot. I am a coffee man. And now I am a Matt man? Jeez, how fucked can that be?

I nod. “Lead the way.”

Matt laughs and strides towards the exit to the main street near campus. We find a coffee house. I order a black, he orders a vanilla latte, cream-topped. We sit facing each other.

“How does campus life treat you?” Matt breaks the silence, already a bit heavy with some kind of electricity.

Am I hungering for a guy? How can that be? No fucking way! Just a friend. No harm in that, is there. But the image of the cum-covered face keeps hovering in my mind and my dick quivers.

“Not bad,” I stare into his eyes, noticing the greenness, the intensity. Fucking cute eyes.

“Cool,” his smile widens, making his face sort of shine. “We’re in the same dorms, you know.”

I nod and sip my coffee trying my best not to stare at him.

“Rooms on the 4th floor must be awesome,” he says.

Is he suggesting something? Should I ask him to come up and see? And if he does, will it end with me showering his face with my cum?

I’m steel hard. I press my legs together trying to make my bulging jeans less obvious, cursing myself for all these conflicting feelings. I need pussy. Desperately, the way my dick behaves.

But this has happened only when Matt is there. I slowly look at him again over the top of my coffee mug. The dude is good looking, I have to admit. His smile is catchy and I find myself irresistibly smiling back.

“Yea, they’re ok,” I manage to say. To my surprise, words tumble out: “You’re always welcome to come up.”

Have I actually said that? Have I just invited a dude who seems to be very set on finding me up to my room? What do I have in mind? What will I do if he does come up to my room? What if I’m lying on my bed, in my briefs, when he barges in? What if I pull him down and suck on his lips which I have often visualized covered with my sperm?

Matt

8

Oh. My. God.

Russel invites me up his room. Shall I take him on it? Is that just a friendly gesture in response to my comment? Will he FUCK me?

My whole body shakes, screaming for sex, for Russel. I’m in heaven already. I have made a chink in his armor. And he looks so handsome, so virile. I know he has a big dick. And I want that dick. Everywhere over me. Inside me.

Russel

9

Matt is fucking with my mind. I have no doubt the dude is after my dick. Not that I’d mind, but as I said before, I’m a loner. My dick is treated well, my hand becoming an expert in inducing humongous loads. Except, lately, these loads have been governed by Matt’s face.

Looks like I’m gay, after all. Not that I have any experience in that area. But I am definitely being turned on by Matt. If I don’t meet him wherever I go, I feel a sort of disappointment. An emptiness. His green eyes. His smile. His ability to take my shitty attitude and still hang around. Any other guy would have given up on me a long time ago. Not Matt.

I give up on finishing my assignment, close my laptop, shed off my clothes and walk into the shower. Halfway through, starting to enjoy the hot water massage, coupled with a decided erection, I faintly hear a knock. Fuck. Who can this be? Very rare. Can it be Matt? I did invite him up. I unconsciously cross my fingers.

“Come in, it’s open,” I shout. I do hope it’s Matt. My cock is pointing up already, throbbing.

“Hey, Russ,” comes Matt’s voice as he enterd the room. My dick responds with a hard upward quiver. “You said I could come up and check out your room?”

“Dude,” I croak, “I’m in the shower. Just come in and look around.”

Will he join me? I snicker inwardly and try to control my throbbing tool. Down boy! My dick has a mind of its own. It won’t budge.

I hear movement and shuffling as I cut off the water and start toweling off, willing my cock to behave. I rush. I need to see Matt. Badly.

“Hey,” I walk out of the bathroom, a bath towel around my waist, aware of my wet mussed hair and of my bulging nether parts. It’s so evident, but I don’t even pretend to hide it.

I notice Matt’s eyes go wide as he glances down my bare chest and my bulging cock. I think I hear a very low intake of breath. The dude is impressed. Shameless. Looks like I’m the shameless one, walking out in front of him, almost naked and my dick at half-mast under the towel. What am I thinking? Or hoping for?

Matt remains standing in the middle of the room, frozen as if, staring. He, then, suddenly, shivers and shakes his head, the smile back on his sunny face. He starts to look around.

“Nice room, dude,” I detect a little shake in his voice. Have I shocked him? Is he really interested? Maybe I should just drop the towel? Oh, fuck, how screwed am I?

Matt takes in a deep breath, gazes back at me for a few seconds, his eyes flicking up and down my body, lingering on my crotch.

“I guess I should be moving,” he says hesitatingly. “Sorry I barged in on you like this.”

His eyes return to my bulge, then he moves to the door. I stand immobile. I wanted to scream for him to stay. I wanted to grab him and rip aways his clothes. I wanted to fuck his ass.

But Matt leaves.

Matt

10

I’m shivering. I almost trip and fall as I fumble my way down the stairs, my knees almost giving up on me. I’m sweating and shaking uncontrollably. What has Russel done to me? Oh, my sweet Jesus.

His nakedness. His smirk. Tousled hair. Wet chest patch. Defined masculine abs. And, oh God, the bulge under the towel.

I rush to my room and drop on my bed face down, trying to breathe. I bury my face into the pillow, the image of the towel bulge searing my brain. I’m hard as fuck but I don’t dare move much, just a little pressing down, my butt clenching. I feel dizzy. But elated.

Russel meant doing that, I’m certain. Walking out of the shower half naked and bulged. He wanted to see how I would react. Fuck me! He looked so hot, so edible. I just wanted to jump into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist, reaching down to fish out his man dick and to rub it inside my crack.

I am already delirious with desire.

I jump as my phone rings. I don’t want to talk to anyone just right now. I want to wallow within the rehash of the past ten minutes up in Russel’s room.

I glance at my phone screen. Russel?

“Hello,” I quickly push the answer button, my shakes returning with vengeance.

“Dude,” the gruff voice. “Come on back up.”

What do I do? Come on back up? What? He’s gay? Wants me? Up in his room, with him naked? How will I be able to control myself? Or should I?

If I go up and he still has the towel around his waist, bulged and all, I don’t know what I’d do. Drop down to my knees? Fuck, yeah. But I might be mistaken. All these signs and he’s asking me back up, how can I misunderstand this?

Still, my focus on the guy could very possibly have been innocent gestures on his part for friendless. Nothing more. He has practically ordered me back up.

No. No way. Not in hell. I cannot, will not, pass this opportunity. He’s there, waiting, for me. Naked. Horny. Sexy as fuck. I bet his dick is huge. The bulge has already shown me that, especially since he wasn’t totally hard. Even limp, he bulged! I can die and go to heaven just to reach out and pull away the towel, fondle his balls (they have to be hairy, I bet), bring him to erection and go for the goods. Full force.

Yet, it wouldn’t seem too strange for a straight bud to call his friend for some bonding company, non-sexual, of course, and just have a good time chatting about football and girls and stuff like that, would it?

Can I do this, if this is what’s on Russel’s mind? The buddy thing? I surely won’t be able to control myself. This is going too fast. True, I have been planning on getting into his pants, but it has to be gradual, step after careful step.

Russel

11

How I want to fuck him! I called him up and I hope he does. He sounded a bit hesitant.

I must have been too forward, walking out of the shower like this, my dick already half up and bulging under the towel.

I reach under the towel and stroke my cock gently, feeling the shivers.

Some coffee as I wait. He’s making me wait, the bitch. I will punish his ass for doing this to me. I know for a fact that he wants my cock. I can tell from his eyes and his body language.

And I will give him cock. Hard and throbbing.

I smirk as I heat up the coffee still remaining in the pot. Yes, I finally am going to get laid. But why is he late in coming up? He wants me to fuck him. I know it.

I sip the coffee chiding myself on my ego. Once I was totally and completely satisfied with being alone, with serving myself. My hand was doing a great job. Now Matt.

Where is the bastard? He should be here by now. FUCK!

I am overwhelmed already. Different feelings. Conflicting feelings. For the first time, ever, I have contemplated doing something with a dude. Not just something. Sex. Fucking sex. That’s so gay, and I am not gay. Or am I? Is it time that I have to examine my identity? I have never questioned it before Matt. Fuck, he’s hot and he does turn me on. The second I see his face, in real or in my mind, I erect. The response from my dick is instantaneous. And to have been thinking of myself as a loner! What a fucking misconception of self.

And where the fuck is he? I’m so rock hard I’m going to explode. I don’t even dare to touch myself.

When he does come, if he comes, what will the moves be? Will he reach out for my dick? Or will he want to make out? Like in kissing and stuff. No way! Kissing a dude is not on my agenda. Getting horny is fine. I mean, a pair of lips has no gender. I guess. Will he suck me off? Fuck, that would be hot. I have heard that queers are the best cock suckers. What am I saying, queers? Careful, Russel, you don’t want to abuse.

Where the fucking fuck is he?

Matt

12

I’m so excited, I can’t decide. But why the hesitation? My whole body itches, urging me, begging me. My mind, though, is another matter. It is considering. Questioning. Reflecting. The guy looks so straight, it hurts the eyes. Such a hunk of a guy.

But he came out of the shower almost naked, didn’t he? And why is that?

I slowly leave my room and with weak legs climb the stairs. I’m standing in front of his room door. Do I knock? Or just walk in? He has invited me. Four short words: Come on back up. Four short words that rock my being. I’m up. Right here, at the closed door. What lies behind that door can very well be a life-changer. God, I’m being so dramatic. I tell myself: Just stride in, suck the dude’s dick, smack your lips, and enjoy.

With a trembling hand I turn the door handle. Russel is there, leaning against the window sill, in his towel, the bulge decidedly huge.

I heave and walk in closing the door behind me.

What now? Russel has the same scowl on his face, as usual. No inclination at what he wants me to do, and why the fuck has he called and told me to come up?

Remaining half-naked and rock hard under the towel should be an indication, shouldn’t it? I don’t need to be a genius to figure that out.

And I don’t need to hesitate either. Do I want more? Do I want to make out, to taste him, to lick him all over, to run my hands up and down his ripped abs, to take in his male scent, to suck on his pouting lips?

Damn yes to all of that. However, how will he react? Looks like the dude is just waiting for a quick blowjob, the way he’s leaning like that, his hairy legs spread, his hands resting back on the sill.

I approach, knowing that my body language is sending signals of both, hesitation and lust.

He gazes at me, deep green eyes boring into me. He doesn’t move his eyes up and down my body. They are concentrated on my face, pinning me with a glare, incomprehensible.

I decide that my best move is to let him go for his move. Let’s see what the dude is hungering for. I can play the silent, passive game, too. I smile, break from his glare, and look around. I reach for the chair near his work desk and sit on it looking up at him.

“So, Russ, howsit goin’?” I ask flippantly.

One eyebrow goes up, still glaring at me, and then his eyes move down his body to his bulging crotch and back at my face.

Russel

13

Finally, the fucker comes up. He saunters into the room as if he has no idea what I want. I know my erection is visible under the towel, and I’m leaning against the window sill on purpose so that he can detect my hunger.

I nod for him to notice my hardness.

He is just sitting there in my chair looking hot as fuck, making my dick throb, painfully.

So that’s how fucking Matt wants to play, huh?

Seeing that he hasn’t responded to my nod, I heave myself up, somehow feeling defeated.

“Coffee?” I smirk at him.

“Huh?”

“Want some coffee?” I repeat, inwardly snickering, as I move to the kitchen counter where the coffee pot is, my back to him.

“Um…” he hesitates. See? I can play. “Yeah… um… sure… if you’re having any,” he stammers.

I get busy preparing the coffee, waiting for him to say something.

I can feel him squirming in the chair although I’m not looking at him.

The coffee brews. I wait. Turning around, still rock hard, I watch him studying me, and my body, his eyes fleeting up and down, lingering over my crotch.

Finally, I decide to end the charade.

“Matt,” My voice comes out gruff. So what else is new? That’s me. “Dude, you gay?”

His response is immediate. A quick nod, eyes moving down between his feet, gazing at the floor.

“I’m not,” I say, the voice sounds even more gruff than normal. Yes, I can be cruel. A real dick.

He looks up at me, a huge question mark on his face.

“But I wouldn’t mind some help,” I grab my bulge and smirk at him.

Matt

14

I’m dying to swallow that cock. To slobber on it. To make love to it. And he wants me to “help.”

I make my move. Fuck making out. That bulge is like a magnet drawing me to it. I stand in front of him looking up into his eyes. Reaching both hands around his waist, I loosen the towel and pull it down, letting it drop around his bare feet. I glance down and take in a deep breath.

Russel is hung. Have my prayers been answered? I knew it! I knew this hunk is packing. The cock slit is staring up at me, the shaft straight, pointing to the ceiling. The crown of pubic hair around the base is thick and curly, covering at least an inch of the shaft. My initial estimation: definitely an 8, if not even longer.

I kneel, fisting the shaft. I hear Russel grunt when he feels my hand around his dick. He reaches out with one hand and grabs my hair, his fingers playing with it instead of pushing me down. I don’t need any push, really. It’s right there for me. The most beautiful man tool my eyes have seen.

I work the knob slowly, lips and tongue, no sucking, yet, just teasing. Russel arches his back emitting his typical gruff sounds, now sounding more animal-like. I grab his hairy nuts with one hand, the other hand clutching his butt cheek. The firmness, the masculinity, the glorious manhood.

I can’t keep the teasing much longer. And judging from the liquid oozing out of the quivering cock slit, I know that Russel can’t wait much longer either. I go for the base. I know that if I brave the shaft with one huge, deep gulp, jaws stretched open, I can take it deep.

I do. Down to the base.

Russel yelps, his back arched, his head thrown back, his eyes closed tight, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I press my lips hard around the base of his shaft, working my tongue up and down the hard rod filling my mouth.

Both of my hands are now grabbing his firm butt cheeks, feeling them ripple. He pulls out slowly, and then shoves back in. I gag halfway down his long shaft. There is a look of surprise on his face, since I had just swallowed the whole fucker.

It takes a few pumps for Russel to blow. Squirts hit the back of my mouth and into my throat as he grunts and empties his nuts.

Russel

15

I’m still heaving as I watch Matt straighten up, giving a final flick to my slimed cock, wiping juice off his lips with the back of his hand… and walks out.

Hey, I wanted to shout. What…?

The door closes with a bang. Is that it? A dude has just sucked my dick, eaten my sperm, and fucking walked out.

Maybe Matt was upset when I said I wasn’t gay? And he was so horny that he just fulfilled his lust for my cock and left?

Looks like I have just lost a friend. The only one, actually. I’m back to my lonesome.

Looking down, I stroke my now-limp cock slowly enjoying the after-feeling, my shaft slick with cum and spit. That was awesome. Not that I have experienced a lot of blow jobs, but it definitely beats my hand.

I can go for seconds and thirds. Oh well, seems I have lost on that, haven’t I?

It’s just been a blowjob, right? Whether it’s a chick or a dude, what does it matter to me? I’m not queer. He is, though, and I have to admit, it was intense. Will I call for him for another blowjob? He’s good and it sure beats my own hand.

Matt

16

Russel’s been acting weird. The way I left after blowing him was not smart on my part. But I panicked. I don’t want to lose him. He’s not only the hottest dude, not only with the most satisfying physique and dick, but he is also a challenge. I think he still believes himself to be straight. But I can tell. The look in his eyes, the lust on his face, the way he shot his load inside my mouth so fast.

Straight dudes usually don’t mind a blowjob from a gay person, especially if they are too horny, jilted by their women, or drunk. Russel was none of those as far as I could tell. He was taking a shower when I came into his room. I think he erected when he saw me.

Interesting guy. For the past couple of days, we only met in class. I tried to start some kind of conversation, nothing in reference to our bout of cock sucking, only about academic stuff. I did mention his liking coffee, but all he did was responding with grumps and grunts. I love his scowl, though. It makes him look so sexy.

And that body. I have it imprinted in my mind. The body hair kills me. I have been jerking off to that image of him leaning back against the window, his hairy legs spread, the towel bulging, the chest hair accentuating his ribbed pecs and abs.

But I must do something more about this. No matter what the outcome may be.

I set my mind and climb the stairs just after I finish dinner, get back to my room, shower, making sure to really clean myself, brush my teeth, don a cut-off pair of jeans and a low-neck t-shirt. My knees feel a bit wobbly in anticipation. I am going to test Russel. For real this time. Although I’m dying to get back down on my knees and take him into my throat, I am going to go for more.

He will scowl, for sure. I don’t mind that as long as I carry this relationship further. Make out? I will try that, not kissing at first. Maybe that’s too intense for him, as much as I would love to suck on his pouting lips as I run my hands all over him. Might gross him out. Body language. That would be the best option.

I have to play it by ear. I must not make him realize that what I’m doing is pre-planned, to get him to bed. I hope he is horny. That will help although I would rather reel him in when he’s in a normal state of mind. I know I’m being too hopeful. But what the heck?

My mind is consumed with lust for Russel. I want that dude, grumbling, grunting, scowling, and fucking hard. I want to go all over him with hands and mouth and tongue and lips. I want to lay down under him, naked and with spread legs. I want him to fuck me!

What a tall order, I snicker to my self as I walk down the 4th floor corridor. A little hesitation.

“Hey,” I open the door after I knock and hear a grumpy what! From inside. “It’s me.”

I take in a deep breath as I see Russel sitting at his work desk, laptop open, coffee mug next to the laptop. He’s in undies only. And he looks so fucking sexily alluring that my whole body tingles.

“Interrupting?” I croak as he scowls at me.

He hesitates for a second or two, and then pushes back the chair and stands up, picking up his coffee mug. God, he is beautiful!

“Coffee?”

What else is new? I’m not really a coffee person. But I’d jump over a high cliff if it gets him to take off his tighty-whiteys and grab me.

I nod my head, smiling, my eyes roaming all over his body. His bulge doesn’t indicate an erection, but it does outline his beautiful large dick, the ridge apparent against the cotton material.

“But you take it with cream and stuff,” he grunts, stepping towards his mini-kitchen and pouring the black brew into mugs. “I don’t have any of that.”

“Don’t mind, Russ,” I feel the lump in my throat. This is the first time I use “Russ.”

He reacts immediately by turning his head around to look at me, a smirk on his face replacing the scowl, one eyebrow raised. “Russ?” he glares at me.

Have I fucked this? Getting too intimate? Am I freaking him out? Damn it, Matt.

He hands me the coffee mug and I take a slow sip, hating the bitter bite of the brew.

“I like that,” he grunts, sitting back in his chair and spreading his hairy thighs and legs wide. He hasn’t put on pants or shorts. A straight guy would most probably hurry to look “decent” or something, right? No, Russel remains seated in his undies. An invitation?

Russel

17

Now what? The dude is eating my body up. I’m starting to feel the tingling down in my balls. Ok. I will stay in my undies even though I know for sure that my dick is going to get hard in a minute, the way he is ogling me.

Actually, I feel that I’m looking forward to another blow job. Is he going to go for more? The way his body is communicating is telling me a definitive yes.

So what? What if I let him have some more fun? There’s no harm in that, is there?

Especially since I don’t feel any revulsion at the thought.

He is still standing, trying not to stare over the rim of his coffee mug. I spread my legs for him, snickering in my head. Yeah, dude, go ahead, give yourself some man-treat.

I feel confident and I realize that already I’m hard. That was fast. The erection, I mean. But nice. His eyes grow wide when he sees the undies stretch sideways with my bone.

Ok, some encouragement is due. I smile at him. Does it come out a smirk? Probably, knowing myself.

“Matt, dude,” I nod my head towards the bed. “Make yourself comfy.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, jerking his knee. The guy is really something. We both know what he wants. We both are eager for what he wants.

He leans over and tentatively places his hand on my thigh.

Ok, that’s cool. I try to change the smirk to an encouraging smile. I place my hand over his and move up and inside my thigh, almost to my crotch. I hear him inhale.

“Matt?” I look at his eyes. Fuck, the guy is hot. “It’s ok.”

His face shows a questioning look. He grabs my crotch, my hard cock pressing against the palm of his hand, and I move mine away to let him work the rubbing by himself.

I watch as he leans further. But I jump when he brings his lips to my bare chest, right at my left nipple. What the fucking fuck? I shudder, and my dick gives a hard quiver under his hand.

His tongue feels wet and warm on my nipple. And nice!

“Dude?” I croak. But I don’t pull away. This is something that I haven’t experienced before, nipple love-making. He licks around the tit, flicking, making it all wet. Very nice!

Matt

18

Russel doesn’t pull back when I start on his pink nipple. It immediately hardens when I flick at it with my tongue. My hand tentatively reaches down onto his crotch feeling his hardness through the fabric. I moan as I suck his tit and rub on his erection.

I’m doing this right, I’m elated. My guy—I’m already thinking of him as my guy—is definitely enjoying my ministrations. Encouraged, I move my mouth up to his neck. His moans are getting louder. And then further to his chin, feeling the prickling beard.

Can I go further? A kiss? I reach inside his undies and palm his dick, throbbing in my hand.

And I go for it.

Planting my lips over his, my heart beating so fast, I squeeze on his shaft. A rumble erupts into my mouth. I push my tongue against his lips. I feel a little hesitation, but he opens. With my tongue darting between the beautiful lips, I moan. My tongue is suddenly sucked in with a slurp. I close my eyes and stroke him slowly, feeling some slipperiness as he starts to leak.

My God, this is happening. I’m making out with Russel. Incredible. Heavenly. I feel his hand wandering up and down my back reaching for the t-shirt and pulling at it.

As much as I hate it, I break the kiss and allow him to pull off my t-shirt, ruffling my hair. I gaze into his eyes as he glances down my smooth chest, appreciatively. He rubs my back and leans to lick at my nipples as I wrap my arm around his waist. I shiver at his tonguing, aching for him.

“This is good?” He mumbles, tilting his head up.

I squeeze his waist. He smirks and sits up.

“Get naked,” he orders me.

I don’t need any goading. I stand naked and hard in front of him. He stares at my nakedness as if I were a Venus, with arms. Touching my bare chest with the palm of his hand, he utters: “Man, you’re so smooth and soft.”

Duh, I think. Is he picturing me for a chick? Ok, so I’m not hairy like him. But I’m a dude. Or has he not noticed? My dick is pointing upwards and he fists it after some hesitation.

“Can I?” He gazes at me. I nod.

Russel

19

What the fuck am I doing? Fuck! I don’t believe this. I’m fisting a dude’s dick. Feels so strange, but still tempting, in a way. I’m so horny and Matt, naked and hard, is so sexy. I can see the willingness in his eyes.

Do I dare? I lick down the flat smooth chest. His dick is pointing right at me. Well, here goes. I lick the knob. Fuck! Am I actually doing this? My body shakes, fear, hesitation, desire? I don’t know. I don’t fucking care.

Before I chicken out, I gulp down on Matt’s cock. He’s not that big, maybe 5.5-6 or so. But I gag. How was he able to gobble my 8-incher? This is not easy. I stay on the head pulling down on the skin. His knob is pinkish and kind of petered to a point. Mine is knobby, mushroomed.

I reach down under his fuzzy balls, discovering his nether territories, inside his crack, feeling into his puckered hole. He squeezes his thighs around my probing hand and fingers, moaning out loud.

Can someone hear him outside? I inhale, taking some rest from working on his dick. My eyes roam over his body, my fingers still caressing his crack and hole.

Pushing him onto the bed on his back, I climb on top of him, our naked bodies plastered, weighing on him. I find his mouth and discover how much I’m enjoying kissing him. I’m not even thinking that Matt is a dude. I’m way beyond that. Homosexual? Queer? Faggot? Way beyond all that. My body is ordering me to do all this. It can’t be wrong, can it?

Matt sucks on my tongue hungrily. I slap his hip as I grind my hardness against his belly, our cocks pressing on each other. He grunts at my slap and bites my lower lip.

Oh? This is what it’s going to be? Playing rough?

I grab his hair with one hand and pull his head back, reaching for his throat, sucking on it. He wriggles under me, but I’m pinning him. I suddenly feel his arms around me, his fingers running up and down my back, his nails dragging along the skin. I bite the side of his neck!

Matt

20

I grunt as I feel his slap. My hole itches after his probing fingers are done with it. I want his cock there. I pull him down on me tighter with my arms feeling his beautiful skin with my hands and my fingers. I grab his butt and squeeze. So firm. So muscular. His cock throbs against mine sending shivers up and down my spine.

“God, Russ, Yes!” I mutter as he sucks on my throat, pulling on my hair.

He raises himself a little and I feel his rod slip under my balls and into my crack.

Oh, Fuck, he’s going there! My hole squeezes tight as I feel the knob pressing on it. He humps me moaning loudly. Will someone hear us from outside? Who cares? Who the fuck gives a damn.

I cling to him desperately. He’s already sweating on top of me making our naked bodies slick and slippery. My own hardness is rubbing against his abs as he humps me.

“Ever done this?” he whispers, deep.

“Huh?”

“Fucked?”

“Huh?”.

“Had a cock up your fucking hole?” He finally raises his head to glare into my eyes, his dick buried inside my squeezing crack.

“Hu-uh,” I shake my head. I’m now scared. Thrilled and scared. A man cock is prodding my virgin ass. I have sucked cock, been humped, but never penetrated.

“Wanna?” he smirks, giving my hole another prod.

“You ever done this?” I counter.

He shakes his head, his smirk getting wider, more smirky, if that is possible.

“But I wanna,” he says.

I do want to. To feel him inside me is probably going to be the epitome of our strange relationship. But this is going too fast. From hesitating whether he would shrink back from kissing to actually lying on top of me ready to shove his hard cock inside me?

Russel

21

I can feel the hole squeezing against my dick. But there is a hesitant look on Matt’s face. Scared, probably. Ok, my dick is kinda big. I would definitely be scared if another big dick was prodding my hole. Fuck! But I want him.

Maybe it’s too soon? I release the pressure on him and return to licking and kissing. We make out until my nuts churn with the need to explode.

I can hear myself groan. Suddenly, Matt flips me on my back and creeps between my thighs, pulling them apart, and starts working on my balls.

I arch my back, stroking my hard cock. He licks up the shaft, forces my hand away, and gobbles down to the base.

I instinctively thrust up into his constricting throat and explode.

“FUCK!”

Matt

22

We didn’t fuck. I am jerking off in bed while my asshole of a roomie is snoring. What a pig! I close my eyes and bring back the memory of his cock head at my hole.

He didn’t fuck me. I wonder. I was more than ready, even though I was scared as hell. But I really, really wanted him to fuck me. He did ask. And I know he wanted to. But it didn’t happen.

I stroke slowly. Do I want it to happen? I know it going to be painful. He’s big. And I’m virgin. A formula for extreme pain.

So I have to get ready. My research on the net gives me pointers. Relax: easy to say, fucking difficult to be when a naked man body is pressing down on you, his insistent man cock prodding your ass.

Be prepared: How? I would need to clean myself thoroughly to avoid grossing him out if streams of shit squeeze out as he fucks. I have no idea how to do it. Enema, the net advises. That is weird. Kinda sick. I’ve watched some of that in porn, but doing it to myself? I don’t know about that. Not happening.

Love your guy: Ok that’s easy. I love Russel. In his grumpy mood. With his scowling face and pouting lips.

Lube: And that’s easy also. I have made it a point to check out the kinds of lube in the store near campus. I picked one that claims it dulls the pain. I got a weird look from the guy at the cashbox. Well, yeah, you wouldn’t buy this kind of lube for a regular pussy fucking, right? Fuck him, let him think whatever. I have my Russel.

Rubber: That doesn’t help the pain of penetration, does it? And Russel is clean, I can tell. So why? I want to feel his skin rubbing into my insides, not some fucking rubber. No condoms, then. Unless, maybe Russel is going to insist?

Position: I wonder. I guess, sitting on his rod? Easing my way down, facing him? Sounds good. I can look at his hot face and chest hair and abs. I can place my hand on his chest as I guide him in. No thrusting on his part. Well, it does sound right. I can sit all the way down with my balls resting inside his pubes. God, how hot can that be?

I’m already considering getting fucked. Russel’s hard cock inside me all the way to the base, stretching me, filling me, throbbing inside my tunnel.

My squirts shoot up as I heave and raise my butt, squirts arching up and down onto my face and bare chest, not caring if my shit of a roomie hears or not.

Gobs of cum sear my skin.

Russel

23

It’s really up to him. The fucking part, I mean. He will have to decide to go through with it.

I accept the fact that I am enjoying sex with Matt. If this makes me gay, so be it. I love the way he goes about working my body, how his lips taste against mine, how his smooth skin caresses my nakedness, how his hole twitches against my prodding.

But actual penetration has to be his decision. I’m not going to push it. I already feel for this guy. I’m already thinking of him as my boyfriend. I’m not just sexing him. I want to make love to him. Love? The L-word? Fuck. I do, though. He’s always on my mind. His face, his hair, his body, his ass.

I snicker. I did shoot into his hair and all over his face the last time we were together. My fantasy coming  true. And he looked so fucking cute. He closed his eyes as I squirted and some globs filled his eyelids. His hair glistened with my cum. I licked it all off his cute face and he laughed. So fucking cute.

I’m really wondering about this relationship, trying to pinpoint what has made it happen and how it has evolved into this. More troubling is how it will turn out, for him, for me, for both of us. I have no experience whatsoever in such intimate relationships. The bond? Not the sex? And the sex itself, of course. Will it run out? And then what?

It hits me with a force: Will I be found out? Or come out? My fucking God! That’s so scary. Talk about anal penetration as scary? It’s a walk in the park, compared with coming out. Will I come out?

Matt

24

It’s going to happen tonight. I have flutterings in my stomach all day. I woke up this morning with this strong feeling that I needed Russel to make love to me. All the way. As much as it frightens me, I will do it.

He walks in to class, looking so sexy, and I melt. As soon as he is seated, I lean and whisper: “Wanna!” His favorite demand to be serviced.

Without turning his head: “Now? Here?”

I slap the back of his head playfully, and the session starts.

We walk out together for the coffee after the class ends.

“You’re really something,” he smirks as he sips his black coffee.

I play my tongue around the rim of my mug taking in the aroma of my latte.

“So?”

He looks at me quizzically. “I thought we’re beyond asking for it.”

“It being?”

“You know,” I detect a flush on his face. He leans to me: “Sucking my dick.”

We both look around and snicker.

“And when it’s not this it?” I tease. I’m dying to reach over and grab his hand. Feel his body.

“What could that be?” Now the scowl emerges. Cute as hell.

I wink at him, biting my lower lip, seductively.

He squirms. Waits. “Huh.”

Is that a response for an invitation to fuck? But I love this side of Russel. Actually, I love all sides of Russel, and tonight I will sample a lot of him.

“I hope you don’t mind?” I ask, probing, since I’m not sure whether he fully comprehends what I am offering us to do.

“Mind?” he raises his eyebrows.

I gulp some latte, stare into his eyes: “Doing it. All the way.”

“Fuck me,” he whispers, shocked, surprised? “You mean…?”

I nod, a stupid smile on my face, my heart beating fast.

He looks down into his coffee mug, his brows knotted, then back at me.

“You sure, Matt?”

My nodding doesn’t stop.

Russel

25

Is Matt suggesting what I think he is suggesting? It, he says. Can that mean he wants me to fuck him? For real? Like penetrating him in the butt and burying inside him?

I’m hard, trying to conceal my bulge under the table. I busy myself sipping coffee, not wanting to show my conflicting feelings: A mixture of trepidation, awe, excitement and, yes, dread. Not that I’m doubtful about my performance. My throbbing and hard dick is a living proof of its readiness.

But this is a commitment, which I don’t know if I’m ready for. This is husband-wife material. My heart pounds in my chest.

The sex, the fucking, will be amazing. That’s definite. But what about our relationship? Matt hasn’t taken us up a notch. He’s going for a skyscraper involvement.

All my fears are surfacing. A lump in my throat. I look at his face, full of anticipation. I need to indicate something here. I can’t keep him hanging.

That is exactly what I’m doing. Keeping him hanging. I ask him if he’s sure, trying to somehow weasel my way out of it. Not that I don’t want to do it. I do. I want to fuck him blind.

He is still nodding with that stupid, cutest smile on his face.

“I’ll get the lube,” I mutter.

I surprise myself, how blunt and grumpy I am. Instead of showing some kind of enthusiasm, of happiness, of whatever, all I say is I’ll get the lube?

Matt

26

I straddle Russel’s crotch, my knees pressed down on both sides of his hips. I reach for the lube that I have bought. I smile remembering a little argument as to who is to get to choose the lube. I win, of course.

Grabbing his hard shaft, I slather it up and down, feeling the slickness of the silky and veined shaft. How can a man cock, rock hard, veiny, and throbbing, feel so silky? My heart is pounding as I bring the cock head inside my crack.

Russel is half-seated, his arms raised, displaying his hairy arm pits. A look of anticipation on his face, replacing the normal smirk-scowl.

I rub his cock knob up and down my crack trying to find the hole. It can’t be missed since every time his knob presses on it, my whole body shakes.

Aligning his cock, I push down, slowly. My rectum muscle resists. Relax. I flash to my internet research. Love him. I take in a deep breath, still fisting the hard shaft, and I push hard.

His cock head forces its way through the ring muscle. I inhale out loud, proud of myself for not screaming as the searing pain hits me. But I want Russel. I need for him to be inside me.

I wait. Russel doesn’t move. He’s letting me take my time. And I’m so grateful. My mind wanders for a second or two, thinking of incidents of forced anal entry, and I shiver.

Ok, he’s in. Goal! Now the shaft.

Placing one hand next to my knee, the other hand still fisting him, I arch my back and push.

He begins to slide in, slowly, with difficulty. I’m thinking, my hole screaming, it’s not that bad. I can do it.

I let go of his cock and place the other hand next to my knee keeping the pressure on as more shaft stretches me. His eyes are glazing.

He reaches up and fondles my nipple with one hand, his cock halfway inside me, and with the other hand he fingers my lips, parting them with his thumb. I suck on it and push down. I feel the cock head forcing another entrance, but it doesn’t stop me from sliding on his rod further.

Russel

27

I’m inside Matt. Incredible. He’s doing all the work and I let him. I would rather be on top of him, fucking him, but this way his virginity is broken without unnecessary pain. Enough time for me to really go into him. My cock is throbbing as it forces its way inside the amazingly tight tunnel.

His nipple gets harder as I stroke it, and he’s sucking my thumb like a famished puppy. I force myself not to thrust up into him.

Finally, he’s balls deep. I look down between our naked bodies. His dick is pulsating as he grinds on my crotch. God, it feels so crazy, so unbelievably amazing. I reach for his dick and stroke him as he pulls up and then pushes back down.

He’s going faster on my rod and I stroke his cock in sync to his movement. We’re both grunting and groaning and moaning. I’m starting to sweat although it’s Matt who’s doing the fucking, really.

“I’m getting close, baby,” I grunt as I feel my nuts constrict.

He squeezes his ass tunnel around my cock, leans down and pushes his tongue into my throat. I explode. It goes on forever. Squirt after squirt. I can’t breathe. I suck on his tongue not realizing that my loud growls can be heard all over the place.

As I’m in nirvana, Matt shoots his load all over me, splashing onto my chest, his ring muscle squeezing hard on my spewing cock, milking me.

Matt

28

Russel is inside me. I force back my scream as my hole stretches to accommodate is big cock. I support myself with one hand and push down, now that the head has penetrated, I want the whole of him, the whole of his cock, the whole of his essence.

He stares at me. I’m shuddering and gasping as his pole invades ever deeper against the pressure I’m applying. His eyes are full of an expression that is so difficult to comprehend. Elation? Lust? Surprise? Shocked to find his dick inside a tight and warm hole?

How I have waited for this moment as I settle down onto his crotch, impaled by 8 inches of throbbing, beautiful man cock. I grind and moan. He is fondling my nipples, sending shocks up my spine. I start riding him, rodeo style. My decision for this position was smart, thanks to the tips on the Internet.

The fucking gets faster, riding his cock with gusto, the pain receding, replaced by pleasure, no, by ecstasy. I am being fucked by the most beautiful guy on earth. Nothing feels like this. Nothing ever will. I get close to cumming, with Russel stroking my dick and me riding on his cock furiously.

Spasming, I feel his sperm filling me, with Russel grunting loudly. He empties his nuts into my bowels as I shower his beautiful chest, globs sticking to his patch of hair.

I slump down on top of him, heaving, unable to control my body. I feel like a wet sponge that has been squeezed dry. He is still throbbing inside me and I feel his sperm leaking out. He grabs me by the hair and slobbers on my mouth, his cock slowly slipping out. I squeeze my ring tight, not wanting to lose the fullness of his manhood. But eventually he plops out, followed by streams of cum.

Russel

29

We’re boyfriends. I take Matt every chance we get. I don’t seem to get enough of him, his looks, his lips, his naked body. His tight hole. We wallow in each other’s arms, moaning and writhing.

“Change position,” I grunt up at him in the middle of his riding my cock. He immediately gets off, my hard wet dick noisily plopping out of his sweet hole. He drops on his belly and I ride his back, pushing his thighs apart with my knees, aligning my cock to his raised butt, and pushing into him, filling him.

He whimpers under me. I wrap my arm around his chest and bring him up turning his face around to suck on his lips as I bury balls deep inside him. Grinding. Slobbering, Tonguing.

Our moans and grunts mingle noisily. The guys on my dorm floor definitely know I’m fucking. They still have no idea that the hole under me is a dude. I wonder.

Matt

30

Russ presses his whole weight on top of me, his cock pushed into me, the whole 8 inches stretching, filling, satisfying. I push back against his crotch as he hugs me and pulls my face around. We kiss, his hips pressed against me.

I love my Russel. I’m his boyfriend. He said so yesterday when we sat at the coffeehouse sipping our brews. We touched hands furtively. Will we be able to walk around campus holding hands?