Date: Fri, 3 Sep 1999 17:20:29 -0700 (PDT)
From: Obedient Bottom <obedient_bottom@yahoo.com>
Subject: Water Polo Boys Get What They Want

It was late October and Greg had admired Lars for two full
months. Lars, like Greg, was a 19-year-old sophomore at the
university. The handsome Norwegian student would quietly pass
through the hallways of the second floor of the all-boys dorm
where he lived, a few doors down from Greg. Lars was quiet not
because he was unfriendly but because he was new to the country,
having earned an athletic scholarship to the U.S. university. He
was a star college water polo player in Norway, and he now was
continuing his tremendous skills in the water in America.

Lars lived in his two-man dorm room with his friend, teammate
and fellow Norwegian, Dag, who just as quietly kept to himself.
But it wasn't difficult for them to make friends on campus, as their
incredible bodies and stunning good looks attracted straight
women and gay men alike. Both were 6-feet tall with light blonde
hair and blue eyes. Lars was about 180 pounds of firm flesh and
powerful muscle. His body was defined and smooth. His large
biceps, built chest, meaty thighs, and full, taut buttocks made
admirers quiver. Dag was about 160 pounds, slimmer and less
muscular than his pal Lars, but nonetheless gorgeous and enticing.
The two were a tag-team set of godlike Norwegian hunk-boys that
no young straight woman or gay man at the college could resist.
Including Greg, a pretty, 170-pound, dark-blonde-haired, blue-
eyed, slim young man who believed in his heart that he literally
would do almost anything to kneel before Lars and obey the awe
inspiring Norwegian babe.

The water polo team's home games were filled to capacity with
students yearning for a glimpse of Lars, Dag and their various
teammates wearing the uniform, scanty, skin-tight, solid-bright-
blue Speedo swimsuits. The suits placed in the spotlight the
Norwegians' giant, bulging baskets, and showed off their
mouthwateringly curvaceous, firm, meaty asses. Fortunately for
their fans, the suits covered nothing else, leaving their wet, lightly
tanned, muscular, perfect physiques on display for all to see.

But Greg had one up on all the other gay boys, and straight
women, on campus. Every day he got to see Lars and Dag go to the
shower wearing nylon bikini briefs even tinier and tighter than
their Speedos. With towel in hand, one or both of the Norwegian
hunks would make the trek down the long dorm hallway to the
showers. Quite often, they would walk right by Greg, who would
be sitting on the floor in the hallway reading a book, which was not
an entirely uncommon sight since many dorm residents did
actually read in the hallways. But Greg's timing got to be such that
the boys, particularly Lars, began saying hi to Greg, as well as
notice the worshipful, glazed-over look in Greg's eyes. It didn't
take long at all for Lars to realize that Greg was gay, and madly in
lust with the Norwegian athlete. Lars, as well as Dag, appreciated
the lust and desire of fellow students such as Greg. Still, they
usually kept their egos in check, and were generally very nice
guys. Both had slept with guys and girls on campus since their
arrival, a fact that was simultaneously well known and hush-hush.
So many of their classmates pined for the chance to sleep with
either of the beautiful, muscular jocks. What Greg didn't know was
that he was about to have an encounter with these gods among
men, an encounter he wouldn't soon forget.

The encounter took place at a Halloween party held at the just-off-
campus apartment of two students in their junior year, popular
young women around the university. The apartment was vast, with
three bedrooms, a large living room, a sunroom, a back porch, a
massive kitchen: It was the perfect college party space. And the
stereo was blasting some of the hottest new songs: A-Ha's Take
On Me, Mick Jagger and David Bowie's Dancing In The Street,
Tears For Fears' Head Over Heels and Madonna's Dress You Up.
The crowded but not quite teeming party was alive with the chatter
and singing and yells of the young college students, ranging in age
from 18 to 22. And the kegs of beer and bottles of liquor were
flowing freely.

Greg had snagged an invitation by being close friends with a
fellow sophomore who was in very tight with the party's two
female hosts. Lars and Dag received invitations simply by being
Lars and Dag, two of the sexiest available men on campus. It also
didn't hurt that the two hosts both had slept with Dag in recent
weeks. The dozens of others invited were a part of the two girls'
far-reaching, semi-exclusive social circle. And come midnight,
Lars, Dag and virtually every other partygoer was blind drunk, as
any good college student would be on a Thursday night that also
happened to be Halloween.

The highlight of the party for most of the girls and many of the
boys was seeing the Norwegian water polo champions in costume.
Lars and Dag both were dressed as vampires, Count Dracula to be
more precise. The dead giveaway was the wild fangs peeking out
from under their lips, the slicked back hair, and the long, flowing,
black satin capes with high, stiff collars. But these vampires looked
more ready for the beach than the coffin: Underneath their capes
were nothing but black, shiny, form-fitting Speedos, and black,
patent-leather jackboots. There were young gay men at the party
who literally were drooling.

Greg, dressed simply in all black, was doing his best to keep his
eyes off the Norwegian babes, focusing instead on some other gay
boys who he found attractive and potential company for the
coming Fall weekend. By the witching hour, Greg was as smashed
as almost everyone else and looking for company, either friend or
something more. But he needed a rest and sat down on the plush
sofa in the darkened living room, listening to George Michael sing
about his freedom. After setting his cup of beer on the coffee table
and resting for no more than a minute or two, he was hit from
behind and smushed into the couch. Lars had accidentally fell over
backwards while leaning on the sofa, and consequently landed on
top of Greg. When Greg realized who it was that plopped on top of
him, he was hardly upset, he was just hard. Very hard.

Lars took one look at Greg and immediately realized he had fallen
on the gay boy down the hall who lusted after his powerful body.
"Hey, man!" Lars said pleasantly in his extremely thick accent.

"Hey, Lars, how ya' doin'?" Greg replied with a smile.

"Very cool," Lars laughed back. "You want to smoke?"

ANYthing to get a little closer with Lars would be a dream come
true! And a couple hits of weed would be just the thing about now,
anyway, Greg thought to himself. The answer to Lars' question
was simple: "Yes!"

Lars fumbled off the couch and led Greg to the back bedroom of
the apartment. There were a few coats on the bed, some shoes
strewn about the floor, a dim light, and some curtains drawn shut
in front of a window that was open just a crack. Greg pushed some
coats aside and sat on the edge of the bed. Before he closed the
door, Lars spied Dag down the hall near the kitchen and motioned
for him. Dag sauntered down the hall and through the back
bedroom door, which he promptly shut.

"I asked him if he wanted to smoke and my little fag boy here said
yes, eh," Lars smiled wickedly to Dag.

"Cool. I could use a good smoke," Dag said quietly.

And with that, the Norwegian godmen locked the door, then peeled
down the black, shiny Speedos just enough to let their
incomparably gigantic cocks pop out. Greg was stunned, like the
deer in the headlights. He simply couldn't believe what he was
seeing. And Lars' use of the word "fag" was still settling into
Greg's mind: Was it a more or less harmless choice of words, or
was he in real trouble? Looking at Lars' and Dag's increasingly
erect cocks, and knowing the boys' campus reputation as bisexual
bounders, Greg concluded that he probably was in good hands.

"Smoke this, baby," Lars said to Greg as he held up his satin cape
like Count Dracula and jammed his giant, erect dick in Greg's
face.

Without thinking, Greg deftly wrapped his hands around Lars'
flawless ass, still mostly covered by the incredibly tight black
Speedo, and eagerly went down as far as he could on Lars' long,
thick cockmeat. Lars in kind began face-fucking Greg, bringing his
hands down on the homosexual's head and grabbing fistfuls of
dark blonde hair. Greg tightened his lips' grip around Lars' cock,
now the center of Greg's life and his reason for being, and Lars
began pumping harder and harder. Greg looked up to see a chest so
perfect and smooth and muscled, and beyond that Lars' beautiful
face looking down at Greg and wearing an intense, wicked smile.
Lars was on top, being worshipped, and being serviced. He was
happy.

The whole time, Dag stood a few feet from the two, gently stroking
his lengthy dick with one hand while feeling his spandex-encased
ass with the other. As Lars' pounding became more furious, Lars
began moaning some, and then let out a restrained yell: His cock
began emptying hot semen into Greg's throat, feeding Greg. He
pumped load after load of burning, tasty come into Greg's throat,
pulling back to empty a few blasts into the submissive gay boy's
mouth. With Lars' cock forcibly jammed down his throat and Lars'
hands fiercely gripping his hair and holding his head down on the
giant member, Greg had no choice but to obey his Norwegian god
and swallow the semen that Lars so generously gave him. When he
was satisfied, Lars let go of Greg's hair and withdrew his cock
from Greg's mouth. Lars, towering above Greg who still sat on the
edge of the bed, instructed his new catch to carefully lick the semi-
erect cock clean, which Greg did without question as he gazed at
the meat and the muscles that made Lars the star he truly was.

Lars then peeled his Speedo back up, encasing his massive piece of
meat in the tight, black spandex. Patting Greg on the head, Lars
said, "You're a good boy, baby." As he walked toward the door
Lars said to Dag, conspiratorially, "Your turn. I'm going to get
Jim. Be right back." And with that, Lars unlocked the door, left,
and shut the door tight.

As soon as the door shut, Dag approached Greg and said very
simply, "Kneel." Greg promptly pushed himself off the side of the
bed and knelt on the hardwood floor before Dag's gorgeous body
and colossal cock. Dag grabbed the base of his erect piece in one
hand and began beating Greg's face with it, clubbing the
submissive homosexual sophomore who was quickly learning just
how submissive he truly was and really yearned to be. Dag began
asking, "Do you want this? Do you want my cock? You want to
suck on me, don't you, pussyboy? You want to suck my cock?"

Still being beaten with the mighty club, Greg replied, "Yes, Dag,
please. Please let me suck your cock. Please."

Hearing what he wanted to hear, Dag grabbed Greg, one hand on
each side of his head, squeezing. "Suck it," he ordered. And Greg
obeyed. But as soon as he began licking and sucking and slurping
the big dick, the door opened and in snuck Lars with Lars' and
Dag's friend Jim. While not as muscular and incredible as his two
Norwegian buddies, Jim was certainly attractive, and definitely
butch. Yet another top, Greg thought while Dag continued sliding
his thick piece in and out of Greg's talented mouth.

"He's good, he loves it, and he swallows," Lars said to Jim, who
was dressed as a rather nice-looking pirate, and locked the door.
"You're next!" The two pounded back their beers and laughed. Jim
began undoing his costume pants to let loose his meat.

On his knees, Greg could sense Dag was near orgasm. He looked
up at the pretty Norwegian's face, which was squinting with power
and lust. And suddenly, Dag thrust his glorious cock deep into
Greg's throat, warm, luscious semen exploding from the cock and
filling Greg's stomach with the come of yet another man. Dag
grabbed Greg's head even harder and pumped and pumped the
submissive's face for all he was worth. With the final sigh of
Dag's fulfilling orgasm, the beautiful Norwegian athlete withdrew
his cock from the conquered Greg's mouth and wiped his cock in
Greg's hair, cleaning and drying it. "Do him, Captain Kidd," Dag
said to Jim, who had dropped his pants but left the rest of his pirate
outfit on.

Lars and Dag collapsed on the bed to drink and watch as Jim stood
before the still kneeling and overwhelmed Greg. "Third time's a
charm, cutie. Come on!" Taking the cue, Greg began licking Jim's
ample, stiff dick, licking and kissing it, until Jim gently grabbed
Greg's hair, signaling it was time for sucking. And that is just what
Greg did. He went down on Jim's dick with renewed energy,
bobbing up and down on the meat ferociously, honing the
fleshpipe like few could. He went at Jim's cock like a ravenous
animal, sucking the life out of the pirate-garbed senior. With Lars
and Dag cheering and laughing and the music and sounds of the
party only slightly muffled through the locked door, Jim blew his
load, discharging what must have been a pint of hot seed into
Greg's compliant mouth. Jim watched, delighted, as Greg dutifully
ate all of Jim's hot semen, swallowing all of the precious come.

Jim pulled out and Lars and Dag began clapping. Jim bowed then
pulled up and fastened his pants. Greg actually managed a little
smile. The three grabbed their empty beer cups and headed for the
door. Dag and Jim unlocked the door and headed out and down the
hall for the beer keg with not a thought for the cocksucker they just
left behind. Lars lingered behind only for a moment. He pulled
Greg up off his knees and onto the bed, looked him in the eyes,
then gave Greg a firm and genuine kiss right on the cheek. "See
you around, baby," Lars said, then dove back into the party.

[This story is based on fact. I welcome messages from adult gay
men who like to discuss issues revolving around submissive and
dominant sexual roles. My e-mail address is:
obedient_bottom@yahoo.com]