Date: Mon, 30 May 2011 23:53:02 -0400
From: M W <striker88888@gmail.com>
Subject: The Lacrosse God Across the Hall: PART THREE

***

LACROSSE STUD: PART 3
The Lacrosse God Across the Hall

Below is the continued story based on some true events that happened
to me in college, though its been heavily fictionalized for dramatic
purposes, and of course names have been changed.  This is meant as
entertainment for adult consenting readers and not meant for anyone
who is offended by aggressive and dirty gay sex.

I welcome all suggestions and comments: Striker88888@gmail.com

*

HIGH SCHOOL GOD

Two days ago I was about to be outted as a homo by two of my
fraternity bros, now here I am--slamming away at some faggot's throat
while those same two buddies are attempting to double stuff his hole
from the other side.   Suddenly it occurs to me, life is wicked sweet
sometimes.  I wouldn't have imagined I'd end up here but I guess life
throws you some pretty good opportunities once in a while, and you
either let them pass you by or you seize and fuck the shit out of
them.  But maybe I am getting ahead of myself.  Here's my story...

Name's Luke and I'm from Massachusetts -- about an hour from Boston
where my family has been since god knows when--the Mayflower or some
shit.   I play lacrosse and not to toot my own horn or anything but
I'm pretty fucking good.  I was ranked number three in Massachusetts
among high school players, and college for me was essentially going to
be a free ride if I just played lax and didn't fuck up too bad.  Dad
was proud, I guess, though he wasn't exactly the type to tell you so
much.  More of the pop you open a beer and say nothing kind of a guy,
which works out fine for me, since I ended up pretty much that way as
well.

With all the sports shit and my generally being awesome, it was never
hard for me to bag chicks.  Ever since Laurie Simon gave me a handjob
at age twelve on the roof of our middle school, the floodgates have
pretty much been open in terms of getting pussy.     That's just how
it always has been.  I'm nailed just about every type of pussy there
is, and it never gets old.  Always thought if there's one thing I'm
meant to be doing besides playing lacrosse it was fucking- although
fucking doesn't get you into college, especially the expensive liberal
arts college in Boston that was paying me to score (though on the
field, in this case).

But despite the endless stream of cheerleaders dying for a piece of
me, I learned long ago there was no chance  women were gonna be enough
for me.  In a way they are too sensitive, too fragile, too emotional
to fully take what I had to offer.  Always hated the pretense and shit
that goes along with sex, and though I had to do little in the way of,
like, wooing chicks (my dick was legendary, bro) I loathed having to
"play nice". To put it bluntly- I can't fucking stand cuddling, so as
soon as I pop my load and I'm done with a bitch, she needs to go.
Don't do sleepovers, that's for sure.

***
SCOTT

In time, I found an outlet for the aggression I couldn't get out on
the field or with the woman (not) sleeping in my bed.  Or, more
precisely, it found me.  Now I know this is a little sick in the head
or whatever but wanna get the whole truth out for once--so hear me
out.  My whole journey with this kindda shit really began when I was a
sophomore in high school, barely sixteen, and my little brother Scott
was thirteen and in middle school.  Scott used to basically worship
me, as even as an underclassman I was starting center on the team, and
pretty much had worked out the social angles of our private school,
the guy that always got invited to parties.  Scott is a good kid
generally but I guess a little soft (he didn't inherit our fathers
stoicism, like I did), so I guess I shouldn't have been that surprised
when everything that went down went down.

Scott and I used to play basketball some evenings after I got back
home from lacrosse and he got home from baseball- he was starting JV
catcher in middle school as a 7th grader, not bad but not exactly with
a pro-ball career in his future. To be honest I'm pretty sure I can
hit a baseball better than him and that's not even my sport.
Basketball was the one sport Scott could compete with me at all, so we
had some fun sweaty games playing one-on-one or around-the-world or
HORSE on our father's old hoop.  For fun, Scott would sometimes offer
me bets when he thought he could win, and me being the competitive
douche I am, would usually take them.

So this one thursday night were playing HORSE and my mind is elsewhere
so I'm missing a ton of baskets, and he has be down to H.O.R.S: if I
miss one more shot he gets in, game's over and he has won.
Predictably Scott thinks it's a good time to wager.

"Winner pays loser 100 bucks"

"Yeah right, asshole.  You don't even have 100 bucks, unless you sold
some of your fucking baseball cards and didn't tell dad"

"Ok.  When I win you pay me a hundred spot.."

"And if I win?" I asked

"Well I dunno, Ill blow you- you happy?"

I laughed, "Game on kiddo" and immediately sunk a basket.

Then another.

Then another.

Scott watched in horror as I played flawlessly, finally making a three
point shot at the back of the key that I knew he couldn't match.  As
an athlete, I performed extremely well under pressure.

"BOO-YEA motherfucka.  Count it!"

Scott nervously dribbled and lined up his shot, but he had no chance,
ball went far wide of the rim and bounced off the edge of the
backboard.  I snickered, the winner.

Scott was silent, maybe a bit impressed I'd clawed my way back to a
win.  Eventually he looked at me and said, deadpan "I guess you'll be
wanting that blowjob now"

I laughed and threw the ball hard at his chest: "come on I think dad
made lasagna"

***
CONTRA

Later that night I was out with some friends, smoking pot along the
reservoir on the outskirts of the suburb our high school was in.  Must
have had a few beers as well because I remember stumbling out of my
buddy Tim's car and fumbling for my keys, almost collapsing on our
lawn.  Finally I got into the house and threw my lacrosse bag on the
couch, almost hitting Scott who was up late playing Nintendo.  Dad was
long since asleep.

"Scott it's wicked late...like  three AM...go to fuckn sleep idiot" I slurred

Scott gave me a sideways look and snickered, I guess in some ways the
sarcastic bastard was just like me.  "You drunk Lucas?"

"Yeah.  Dad got any beer?". I rummaged through the mini fridge until I
pulled out an Amstel light.  "Ugh hate Amstel". I popped it open
anyway and started drinking it.  Collapsing next to Scott on the
couch, I watched him lose a few lives in my saved game of Contra
before falling asleep, beer in hand, sitting up on the couch with my
head tossed back behind me hanging over the cushion.

 I was having this awesome dream about titty fucking Mrs. Kann, this
huge-breasted teacher and probably the only decent-looking instructor
at our school.  My dick felt warm and wet and close to coming. In my
mind I was pushing those huge orbs together and spitting on my dick,
sliding it between them over and over, working up great friction as
she begged for my cum all over her cute fucking mouth.

Eventually I realized I was awake and on our couch, and it had all
been a dream.  But my dick was still feeling awesome-what gives?  Sure
enough I looked down to see my little brother opened wide and head
bobbing on my dick, like some deep throating porn star.  I grabbed his
hair intending to rip him off my dick and beat his little gay ass, but
something about grabbing his skull and controlling the speed at which
he blew me felt amazing.  And it only encouraged him, he gobbled down
every millimeter of my dick without gagging, slamming his own face
downwards over and over again so his nose pressed hard into my pubes.
I eased up on his hair and just started working his face.  Felt too
good to stop him.  Eventually I knew I was close to cumming and
couldn't stop him if I tried.  I couldn't believe I was about to jizz
in my little brother's mouth but that's exactly what happened- gobs
and gobs of steaming hot cum, probably shot so far down his throat
they were directly deposited into his stomach.  As soon as I came I
threw him off of me, confused and a little sickened.  Scott just
smiled, one of my red pubes lodged between his front teeth.

"I figured I owed you" he said, bravely.  After a minute of silence he
added "don't tell dad" before hopping off the couch and heading up to
his room.

"Jesus christ" I said outloud, to no one.  I knew it was wrong and gay
and shit, but I couldn't deny one simple fact:  it was the best
blowjob I'd ever gotten in my life, by far.

***
JOHN

My brother avoided me for the next week or so but eventually things
returned to pretty much normal--we didn't talk about that night and we
stopped playing basketball when it was just the two of us. No harm, no
foul.

The only other difference between us after that night is harder to
explain.  I always bossed around Scott like any older brother should,
and I definitely gave him a hard  time or whatever, but now when I did
it, every since he blew me, it felt somehow different.  Somehow
erotic.  Like, now it turned me on a bit to give him the business,
make him bring me sandwiches, tease him and his friends, yell at him
if he used my stuff, and other shit like that.  Everything he did or
said, somehow the image of him throating my dick was crystal clear in
my mind.  I knew I owned him--and the thought made my dick hard.

I realized then that I loved power it gave me--which is not so far
fetched given the way my dad is and my general demeanor in other
aspects of my life.  So I realized maybe there was another outlet for
my excessive sexual energy than boning every other chick that catches
my eye, though I would do that too- and it would be pretty damn sweet.

As it happens though, Scott and I never reprised our little encounter
and I went for over a year without another blowjob like that.  I had
long since put  that night out of my mind when I saw John Helms spying
on my junk in the locker room shower after lacrosse practice one day.

I was a senior, captain of the team and homecoming king, sitting on
top of the world in my final 8 months before college.  The lacrosse
team was good this year, a strong squad but we just had lost a game to
one of our chief rivals from another prep school up in Vermont.  The
bastards schooled us in some fundamentals, and coach was pissed off.
I was pissed too, as the captain, and also took loses incredibly
personally.  Even though our coach worked us out hard, pushing us to
the limit with drills and laps, I decided to tack on another workout
after coach released the team.  I did about 40 minutes of sprints
before finally hitting the showers, sure the team would be filtered
out by then.

So I was surprised to find John Helms soaping up in the shower, in an
otherwise empty locker room.  John played defense and was pretty
goodi- pretty reliable to be where he should be on th field and play
aggressively when it came to that.  The other guys on the team liked
him just great, although he was a bit separate from us in some way.
Even when he did come out for beers to celebrate victories, he was
always pretty quiet.  I just thought he was shy--a bit odd for a
strapping 6'2" defenseman--but a good, solid guy.  And that tended to
be the majority opinion.

John smiled shyly as I came into the showers, stripped down to my jock
and whistling loudly.

"Oh..what's up Helms?  Didn't think anyone would still be here."  As I
talked I stripped down nude and turned on another shower head in the
large communal shower--no  big deal.

"Hey Luke. Just got caught up after practice so got delayed a bit.
Saw you running laps, you're a total beast man."

I smiled, "Well don't wanna keep losing, so gotta keep it up right?
Can't believe how Schmiddty just fell apart out there."

"It wasn't just hit fault. Our lines were broken the whole game."

"True."

There was a silence as I continued to wash myself.  Not sure when I
noticed it but I looked up to John after a while, and caught the
unmistakable flinch of a man caught staring at another man's tackle,
transfixed.  I was soaping up my schlong and nuts good so they we're a
bit engorged, feeling good and bulky.  I hadn't even given it a
thought before, not a single one, but suddenly I knew John Helms was a
fag who wanted what he just got caught looking at.

I didn't play all my cards, just shook my dick at him a little and
kept talking about the game, how mad coach was, and other nonsense.
He tried to play it cool but his growing hardon betrayed him-this dude
would be mine.

He wrapped up as I began shampooing and headed to the lockerrom with a
simple 'See you man.'  I took quite a while finishing up myself,
turned on a bit to be honest and thinking of my blowjob from Scott.  I
debated jerking off but thought John may still be in the lockerrom.  I
eventually dried off a bit and slid on a pair of clean white
boxer-briefs. I exited and headed towards my locker.

The whole place was empty, only the soccer team shared that gym and
they were away at a tournament.    Still the whole place reeked of
sweaty guys, and I remember thinking it had  been far too long since
they cleaned up the joint.  It was at that moment I passed a row of
lockers and saw John just sitting there in his jock, kegs straddling
the low wood bench between the wall of lockers, just sort of doing
nothing.  A throbbing hard boner was pulsating against the fabric of
his jock pouch, that was obvious enough.  Some faggots couldn't be any
more obvious...

I almost walked by but then went into some strange auto-pilot.  I
walked towards him, saying nothing, walking with my legs on either
side of the bench as well so by the time I was before him my crotch
was directly at his face level.  I pushed it further to him so it was
merely a millimeter from his nose. I looked down mockingly, a bit
disgusted by this pathetic homo sniffing my dick after school, and
definitely turned on by the thought of owning his mouth.  I felt the
intake and release of his breath, taking in the scent of my freshly
showered cock.  I held it there another moment.

Then WHAM, slapping my package into his face, I could have practically
given him a blackeye with the impact.  He buried his face into my
member and nuzzled my balls with his hand through the leg of my
boxer-brieefs.  He was hungry and it was obvious he'd be a real slut
for me.  I eventually whipped out my dick and started to feed him,
using his throat like I did my brothers, only somehow ever harder.
Unlike Scott, he gagged plenty, and choked to the point of almost
pukinh, but that didn't stop him.  He began tonguing my nuts which
felt amazing and worked his way under them to my crack.  Soon enough
believe ir or not I had this six two behemoth of a jock licking my
hairy asshole for all he was worth.  I reached behind and buried his
face in my man snatch, in total ecstasy. I'd have girls tease my hole
with their tongues and liked it, but they never fully went at it like
John was doing now.  It was unbelievable.

When I was about to cum I plied his face out of my hole and spun
around.  Just in time too, as a huge splattering of milky jizz painted
his forehead and eyes.  He used his jock to wipe his eyes but kept his
mouth on my dick, licking up the last few drops.

He looked up at me with big, pleading eyes, my dick still in his
mouth, and I did something that surprised even me at the time.  Not
sure where it came from either.  I gathered up my phlegm with a big,
disgusting gargle, then hocked the world's biggest loogie right in his
eye, just where he cleaned up my jizz.

"Next time I'll  tell you when you're allowed to clean up, bitch" I
said threateningly, and then exited toward my locker.  He stayed right
there, not daring to move,  dripping in my ooze.

***
ON-CALL BITCH

And that's how Helms became my first on-call bitch. What began as a
caught glance at my dick I'm the showers turned into an entire school
year of degradation.  I'd pound out John's face in the locker room or
bathroom, cop head from him in my truck in the senior parking lot, and
dick smack him in my dad's basement while smoking the pot he brought
me.  He fucking loved turning into a trashy skank for me, and I
couldn't have imagined how slutty he would turn out to be.  I knew
after about a month that all the blowjobs and rimjobs weren't going o
be enough, and that soon enough it would be time to bend him over and
take what was mine.  I had some experience fucking Jenni Ackerly in
her ass, the same night she blew my buddy Briggs - a fact Briggs and I
recounted gleefully when he met up for a Bruins game the year before.
But even a slut like Jenni could barely take my mammoth dick up her
back door, she screamed like the bitch she was and I could feel her
ass tearing as I worked my way in and out.  I had a feeling John's ass
would be a bit more forgiving.

I was not disappointed.  Giving him a lift in my pickup one night
after.a Lacrosse party, I bypassed his house and headed into a wooded
area the town kept undeveloped as a nature reserve.  Fairly far from
humanity, I parked the truck began rolling a joint.

"Get into the flatbed, pull down your pants, and bend over.  Just wait
for me.  Now."

Well trained by then, John hopped out of the car and jumped into the
trucks bed.  I continued to roll the joint as I watched him throw the
rear view mirror: unbuckling his belt, sliding down his jeans, and at
last just bending over, hands touching his ankles.  I smirked and
laughed to myself, leaving him exactly like this as I lighted the
rolled joint and took a few puffs.  After about five minutes I finally
I went into the glove box and grabbed some KY jelly, and joined John
back there.  He hadn't moved, waiting like a good little bitch.

My dick was diamond hard as I lubed it up real good...John claimed to
be a virgin although he was slutty enough to lie about that.  I saw
his clenched jaw and knew no matter what he anticipated some major
pain, which given my thick piece was probably right.  Grabbing his
hair, I pulled him back and angled my dick with my hand so it jammed
right up his chute.  He screamed a bit, then almost laughed, then
moaned with no small amount of pain.  I started thrusting slow but
before long went into all-out fuck mode, assailing his ass like I
would any cunt on earth....only, much to my delight, even harder.  I
slammed the fuck out of that shit, and it felt like heaven.

Disclaimer time- though maybe its a little late.  I aint gay.  Not
even a little.  I know when a dude's a stud, I'm not an idiot, but
I've never been attracted to a guy in a sexual way, even a little.
I'm obviously open minded, but I'm not a homo in denial or anything
like that.  It was simply that fucking men was in a league of its own.
 It made my dick feel great- and that was the bottom line.  Of course
I preferred a beautiful-bodied woman between my legs, but as far as
sport-fucking, guys had the edge- I mean I could use them as hard and
as raw and as much as I wanted, whenever I wanted, and didn't have to
give a moment's thought to their comfort or--shudder--"feelings."  I
had plenty of friends who thought faggots were against God's will or
disgusting but I didn't believe any of that--thought of them more as
just pathetic weaklings, pretty low on the social food-chain.  Was a
dude like myself's job to keep them in their place.

When I was ready to cum I donkey punched the back of John's head,
causing him to clench his ass muscles and milk out the intense hot
load from my wet dick.  I felt like I was cumming all the way up into
his stomach as I moaned and gave my final thrusts.  Jizz and lube
drizzled out of his puckered red hole and I layed back to recuperate.
So that was that.

***
FUCK BUDS

We fucked a lot that year-- in my car but at his house too, his loser
parents worked nights and we had the place to ourselves to mess
around.  I was also seeing a bunch of girls from my class, including
the senior class president Vanessa Strode.  She was hot but unbearably
prude, consenting to short, unenthusiastic intercourse only rarely.  I
didn't ruin her rep for being a lousy lay and she didn't give me shit
about fucking other girls or never asking her to stay the night...a
relationship that worked for us.

Funny thing is John started hanging out with the team more, gaining
more confidence and presence even as I regularly tore down his ego
with my dick.  To be honest I liked that he was an average guy jock,
and not some twerpy fag like the ones I'd see downtown sometimes when
I headed to the city.  I didn't care about those guys, had no interest
in using their faces.  It was the ones who no one suspected for being
bitches that gave me a rush when I used them...when I degraded them
totally. It was cool that John was tossing back beers with the boys at
the only dive bar in town that would serve obviously under-aged high
schoolers, and then gargle my semen later that night in the back of my
truck.  No one suspected at all, and why would they...truth is I could
of had anyone, and did, so my secret was safe as long as people
believed what they saw.


And high school ended that way, pretty unceremoniously, with Vanessa
and I taking prom king and queen and me getting that full scholarship
ride I wanted.  It wasn't a big school and sports were by no means
their focus, but it was a high profile college that sunk a few hundred
thousand in scholarship money on key players that might attract other
players to the school.  When I accepted my admittance, so I'm told,
three or four other entering freshman LAX players  accepted as well,
just based on my reputation and prospects for a strong program.  I was
sitting pretty, just a long summer of bumming around and bullshitting
between me and college pussy, which was highly glorified by my horndog
older friends returning from college in May for their summer break.

***
CAMPING

Last time I saw John that year was on a camping trip in early August,
up in New Hampshire's white mountains, where the two of us and five
other teammates headed for some hiking before we all dispersed for
college.  John was the only non-senior there, but as he'd gotten close
with a lot of the team by then, it wasn't so weird for him to join.
We had pretty crappy weather the first day in and ended up all soaking
wet, bagging a peak and descending below treeline to set up camp for
the night.  Whiskey was passed to stay warm, and we all got nicely
toasted.  As always when guys are drinking around a campfire,
conversation drifted to sex, and we began telling stories of the
hottest sexual experiences we've had.  John was reticent, passed on
providing details, whereas our buddy Bruce recounted (probably lying)
a night in the Spring, nailing a girl in our class and her mother in
the same night at a houseparty at their house.  When it was my turn I
told them about when I fucked Vanessa in the woods in town in the back
of my pickup, and how I made her undress and bend over waiting for me
to finish my joint.  The guys loved it and I watched John blush
furtively as I described tearing up her pussy standing in the back of
my truck.

"Well, time to jerk off and go to bed". Bruce announced, breaking up
the caucus and sending everyone to their separate tents.  There would
be a lot of palms slapping dick that night.

Not for me of course, because about twenty minutes later I was
standing outside John's tent, kicking it lightly to wake him up.  He
got dressed and met me outside quietly, where we walked down a ways to
a water source we had filled up our canteens at earlier that evening.
The moon was bright and air clean after a whole day of rain, and the
bright night made it possible to navigate across the river to a
clearing on the other side without flashlights.  John looked at me and
said something about needing dick, which I hated because it sounded so
faggy, and I told him to wait.

Eventually we stopped and I told him to get on his knees, angry for
some reason by his lack of patience, maybe grieving in some way that
my endless source of nookie was gonna dry up as soon as I left for
college.  Whipping out my dick I asked how bad John wanted it and
before he could answer let out a spray of steaming hot piss, sizzling
in the night air and washing all over his face neck and chest.  He
gasped, not expecting any of this, and not exactly enjoying it as far
as I could tell.  Still he fumbled to get it in his mouth, yanking on
his own dick as I wetted him down and then finished myself off by
jacking off in his mouth.  A huge gob of cum sat on his tongue, bathed
in a pool of piss, and I hocked another loogie in his mouth for good
measure.  Take that, bitch.

John was filthy and the night had warmed up a bit so he decided to
strip nude and skinny dip to clean off.  I figured what the hell and
joined him, enjoying the cool water and sense of freedom you can only
get on a camping trip, especially after dropping a load.  John laughed
at me and teased me about all the cunt I was gonna tag in college now
that I dried up the resources at our school.  I laughed too but
suddenly things took a turn.  John swam up next to me and spoke
sincerely:  "I'm gonna really miss you when you leave" he said,
lamely.  He then reached of to grab my face, and lunged in for a kiss.

I jumped back a step, shocked.  What the fuck did he think he was
doing?  He was going to MISS me?  Couldn't really tolerate that word,
especially from someone whom I just pissed all over, and I reacted
pretty much the only way I knew how- I punched him.  He fell backwards
with a soft yelp but didn't fight back, just sort of disengaged sadly.
 Still steaming, I headed back to my tent.

John had a pretty ugly black eye the next day and made up some story
about slamming his face into a low-hanging branch while going for a
whizz in the middle of the night - a lame excuse but no one had any
reason to doubt him.  The weather as better and we hiked out happily,
though I was distracted and, yes, a bit guilty about the night before.

We drove home silently and I dropped him off, shaking his hand
formally when we said goodbye.  I left for college two weeks later,
without further incident or exchange.

***

COLLEGE
Welcome to College


My dad dropped me off on campus in my truck, which I couldn't have as
a freshman, so he was going to drive it back home after unloading all
my things.  Scott came along and hugged me goodbye, which I let him do
and managed a fraternal smile and noogie.  My dad quite typically said
nothing much, wished me luck and patted my shoulder.  He shook my hand
as he left, offering little more than 'Be safe.'

It didn't take me long to settle into college, I was arriving a week
before others because athletes had a pre-semester training camp where
coaches worked out rosters and strategy.  It was pretty fun getting to
know my new teammates, and I picked up pretty quickly from
upperclassman on the team that lacrosse tends to be its own island on
campus, teammates sticking together and not really fraternizing much
outside of the team.  There was even a designated (though unofficial)
lacrosse 'frat' which sure enough I would pledge next semester when
they took on new members.  I boned a chick the second night on campus
after a mixer with  the football team (the only  acceptable squad to
hang out with if you had friends outside lacrosse).  Upperclassmen
were impressed with my prowess, nicknamed  me Red, and invited me to
some private events most freshmen didn't attend.  Yep, just like high
school, college was shaping up to be pretty awesome for me.

The girl I fucked was named Betsy and she was a good piece of ass,
tight bodied and Irish.  I had fun pounding her pussy deep, even
though through it all she claimed to be "not that kind of girl.". But,
eager to be the unattached guy I  was in high school, I refused to
call her back when she texted me the next day, then the day after
that, then the day after that.  She was pissed the fuck off by the
time I saw her at a party two weeks later, and had convinced some of
her girlfriends to be bitches to me to defend her honor.  I found it
all hilarious, especially since within a week one of those friends--an
anorexic slut named Meredith- was giving me shit-poor coked-up head in
a frat bathroom at 2 AM.  So it goes, Molly.

It also didn't take me long to find another cocksucker to work on my
dick.  As it was, I found him pretty close--my roommate James was this
big, pretty stupid guido with good biceps and almost no self control.
He was prettty hilarious and I liked hanging with him on the field and
off (he also played lacrosse, which is why they paired us).

After only a week or so of bunking together, I woke up to James
beating off to some gangbang porn on his PC, some poor girl taking
about seven dicks in and out of every hole.  He worked his boner hard
from his bed in the corner of the room.  I guess he heard me wake up
and move around because he called out, unashamed, "yo man you don't
mind right? I'm mad horned up"

I assured him it was cool if I could spank it too and he told me hell
yeah, and popped open some beers for us from our minifridge.  I was
just gonna jerk off from bed but James jumped on the couch and seemed
like he expected me to join him.  I thought may as well and took the
beer as I lid down just to him,my dick getting hard as I watched the
girl on screen deep throat a dick as two guys double stuffed her
pussy.

James had good looks and skill on the field but not an ounce of tact.
His guys were glued to my member, which I showed off proudly.  He flat
out told me it was a hot dick, that he wasn't gay but would help me
out if I needed it.  I asked him what that entailed and before I knew
it he was sucking my dick...pretty weakly to be honest.  He definitely
was into it but had no rhythm, and it took a little while for me to
cum in his mouth.  He spit the load out in he trash and scowled,
"fucking gross man."  But I knew he liked it.

James went on to tell me about an underclassman named Cody who used to
blow him in high school whenever he wasn't getting laid.  Surprised by
his honesty, and struck by the similarities, I told him about John,
and the nasty shit we did. "Its just too fucking easy, right?" He
accessed.  I agreed.

James said he'd suck my dick anytime as long as I didn't tell no one.
But he said he wouldn't get fucked or do much else since it wasn't
really his character to be too submissive.  I told him he seemed
pretty submissive when he was face first on my nuts, but he insisted.
"We'll have to find a third bitch we both can abuse" was all he said,
and I agreed, although didn't think too much about it. James was a
good backup but especially after a slut like John I was too insatiable
to take a step back.

***
The Baseball Stud Across The Hall

The solution to all this was literally thrust into my face when one
morning my across the hall neighbor opened his door and Betsy--the
chick I banged in my first week--came walking out, holding his hand.
They'd obviously had sex the night before, which I found funny since
she "wasn't that kid of girl.". She was embarrassed to see me and
tried to leave, which pissed me off in a way.  I also got a strange
look from my neighbor, this dude named Mike.  I felt like being an
asshole to Molly and to Mike, eyeing them both as they walked out of
the dorm.  Mike looked back at me and I saw something in his
eye--fear, yes, but also desire.  It was an intriguing combination,
and I wondered what I could do with it. I was soon gonna find out: a
lot...

Mike had moved into the door early alongside the other athletes, as he
played baseball.  Like other ballplayers I knew, Mike was a pretty boy
that seemed a bit too self-satisfied given the pussy nature of his
sport.  He reminded me of Scott in some ways, likable to others maybe
but not really self-possessed in a way other athletes tended to be.  I
saw through him, in other words, and even though we nodded or said
whatsup the first few weeks of classes we never became anything
approaching friendly.  And now that I caught him with Molly, I decided
for some reason he was my arch nemesis.  He always seemed nervous
around me in the odd instance we were at the same parties or passed
one another in the bathroom the guys in our hallway shared.  I was
intrigued.

"He's a fag" James concluded, ironically about twenty minutes after
slurping on my dick.  "I can tell."  I wasn't so sure myself--I
supposed it was possible, but he seemed pretty manly, even compared to
John (who was pretty studly himself, even if he was shy.)

"I'm telling you, he's a fag"  James insisted.

**
DRUNK PISS

We started rushing fraternities in the winter and I had gotten way too
drunk one night at the end of the semester.  Tequila has a way of
making me sloppy, and I'd had more than a few shots that night.  Not
sure exactly how I made it back to my dorm, in fact don't really
remember much of the later half of that evening.  I guess I must have
passed out in the hall because when I regained something resembling
consciousness I was in the dorm bathroom, being held up by an also
drunk Mike, vomiting into the bathroom sink.  It was pretty nasty.  I
remember having to piss but having no faculties to get to the toilet,
so I whipped it out and started filling the sink with my urine.

I guess I went back on auto pilot or something because I suddenly got
the idea to piss on Mike.  I had really enjoyed hosing down John on
the camping trip and wanted to give it another shot.  I guess I took a
risk but turns out James was right--he was a fag and, even better, a
piss loving bitch.  He sunk to his knees and took his shower, then
sucked me off like the whore he was deep down.  Totally fucking hot to
have another dicksucker living so close, although at the time I was
too drunk to put it together.  I came quickly and got the fuck out of
there, eager to tell James about my discovery.

"I knew it" James claimed when I reported what I remembered of the
night before.  "When we get back from Christmas vacation, his ass is
ours."

"For sure man."

"One thing dude"  James said, "when he's around, don't mention me
sucking you off okay?  He'll be both our bitches.  I don't want him to
know you turned me."

"You don't make the rules."

"Still, I'd feel more comfortable."  James waited a moment before
adding, "Please."

I decided to play along--fine, for now at least, James could pretend
to be an alpha stud like me.  But we both knew the truth.

Sure enough, when we we did get back from Christmas vacation I wasted
no time and knocked on his door, telling him to report to my room in
ten minutes.  James was waiting there to video tape him sucking our
dicks, and that was going to be the beginning of a beautiful fucking
thing.

And it really was.

***
TO BE CONTINUED in part FOUR
I welcome all suggestions and comments: Striker88888@gmail.com