Date: Thu, 14 May 2015 14:49:32 -0600
From: Colton <coltonaalto@gmail.com>
Subject: BBC on Campus - Chapter Three

The usual disclaimers:

* My experiences are in everything I write, sometimes just a view of the
mountains, sometimes much more, but this story is fiction.  Any resemblance
to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

* If it is illegal for you to read this story because of your age, location
or some other reason, please do read it.

* This story depicts unprotected sex. In real-life, be safe!

* This work is copyright by the author.  Commercial use is prohibited
without permission. Please do not republish any parts of this story without
consent of the author.

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BBC ON CAMPUS

CHAPTER THREE – DANCER ON A BLACK POLE

The college rock climbers living in the repurposed gas station below my
room didn't make it easy on my cock.  Their bodies were constantly on
display, which made me constantly focus on their asses.  The day after the
Bikinis and Goggles race, they assembled behind the gas station with a half
dozen other climbers and, shirtless, spent the afternoon scaling the sheer
red cliffs to the west.  Not only were they shirtless, but the rock
climbing tools and ropes attached to their belts pulled their shorts down
enough to expose the tops of an array of intriguing ass cracks.  I had a
perfect view from the big windows in my upstairs room.  There is nothing
quite like seeing a guy plastered against a vertical rock wall, wearing
only shorts and climbing shoes, muscles flexed and straining, and ass hard
and taut.  It was a damn good thing that I had drained my balls into Kyle's
ass the day before.

The scenery stayed good after that afternoon, too.  When Dontrell showed me
the room during the summer, he warned me how hot the gas station got when
the sun was out.  The man was right.  Within a couple of days, the rock
boys were in the habit of stripping down to boxers as soon as they entered
the place.  That meant their ripped bodies were more-or-less constantly on
display.

The guys also imported a makeshift rock climbing wall in the main living
area, next to the two-story stairway that led to my room.  Travis, who was
the ringleader of the rock climbers, found the wall at a gym that was
closing.  The guys bought it for pennies and got some friends to
disassemble it and move it to the gas station.  The rock boys were always
dangling off some miniscule hold on the rock wall, shirtless, with their
muscles bulging and their smooth skin covered with a sheen of sweat.

In my quest to bed all six of the rock climbers, I went for the low hanging
fruit – so to speak – first.  When I first met the college boys, I
assumed they were straight, but it didn't take much study of my
quasi-roommates to detect that Jesse, the dancer, was gay.  Not only gay
but fixated on seeing what was swinging between my legs.  He gave me long,
hungry looks every time I saw him, and I had no doubt that I could bone the
boy just for the asking.  Or maybe without having to ask.  A week after the
Bikini and Goggles race, my opportunity to fuck the first of the climbers
presented itself.

I got in a long run on Saturday. The weather was hot, and although the
humidity was low, with the intense sun I was sweating like a pig halfway
through the run.  I pulled off my tank top and stuck it into the back of my
shorts.  When I finished and walked into the old gas station, the place was
like an oven.  I was happy for the air conditioning system Dontrell had
jury-rigged for my upstairs apartment.

I thought the rock boys had taken off for cooler places and the gas station
was deserted, but as I entered, I was surprised to find Jesse stretching in
the long hallway outside the garage bays.  The late afternoon sun was
streaming through the glass block wall, and the kid looked incredible.  His
reddish brown hair glowed in the sunlight.  He was wearing a tiny red
singlet that exposed his back and chest.  Hell, it exposed just about
everything.  The thin, clingy material of the singlet dipped so low I
probably could see the kid's pubes and ass crack if I looked close.  His
pale white skin was wet with sweat, and he was standing on one leg, holding
his other leg straight up in the air with both hands.  His back was turned,
and the singlet had wedged itself into Jesse's incredible ass crack.  Damn,
dancer's asses are like no others.

The first time I met Jesse, I had assumed, not knowing he was a rock
climber, that his strong arms and chest came from lifting other dancers.
He was strong enough to be good at lifts, but his muscular upper body also
came from pulling himself up the face of rock cliffs.  Backlit by the sun,
and with the singlet leaving nothing to the imagination, he looked hot.
Hot enough to fuck, even in the heat.

I walked toward him, making enough noise to make Jesse notice me.  Jesse
turned and looked up at me.  He was short, maybe 5'8" at best, and I
towered over him by at least nine inches.  He smiled and said, "Hey,
Dillinger."  I didn't reply, just leaning against the wall, still breathing
deeply from my run.

I have no idea why, but my mom named me after a Chicago gangster from the
30s.  At least Dillinger was a novel name.  I got puzzled looks over the
name, but most people were too polite to ask if I was really named after an
infamous bank robber.  Usually my friends called me `Dread' because of my
dreadlocks.  I'm not certain that name was much better.  Maybe it should
have been `Wolf' for my wolf eyes or my predatory instincts when it came to
sex.

If this was Jesse's private time to exercise, in his own space, I wanted to
make him feel like I had invaded it.  With a faint smile, my eyes raked
Jesse's body, slowly panning from his head to his feet, and back to his
torso.  It was a signal I was mentally undressing him and assessing his
body.  Assessing his body for sex.  My look, challenging him to run or
submit, was more than just casual.  It was predatory.  The gray wolf was
running free, his prey sighted.

The slut took the bait.  He smiled as if to say, `game on' and resumed
stretching.  I leaned against the wall, staring as the kid worked his body.
He put on a show for my benefit, performing an array of dance moves that
showed off his ass.  The fucker was trying to seduce me.  Little did he
know that my dick was destined for his ass regardless of what he did, but I
played it for what it was worth, enjoying the show.

Jesse crawled on a high table in the hallway and did the splits, his legs
stretched at a 90 degree angles from his torso.  His awesome, muscular ass
was flexed and hanging just off the edge of the table.  He bent forward so
that his chest was flat on the table and he looked over his shoulder at me,
wetting his lips.  Damn, the kid was hot to trot.

I walked behind him, sliding my hand inside his singlet and plunging a
finger into his sweaty, wet hole.  He gasped.  I jammed a second and then a
third finger deep into him, roughly raking his prostrate.  Damn.  The
fucker was tight and wet, and with his flexed glutes looking hotter than
ever, my only real decision was whether to make him suck me before I fucked
him.  Thinking about how sweaty my crotch must be, the answer was obvious.
Yeah, Jesse's little seduction performance had been hot, but the kid needed
to know he wasn't in charge.  His place was to serve me.

I walked to the front of the table. Jesse looked up at me with big,
pleading blue eyes.  His freckles stood out, splashed across his nose and
highlighting his pale shoulders.  I pulled my running shorts down, letting
my big black cock pop free.  "Suck it, slut," I said.  "Get me good and
hard so I can rip your boi pussy.  Make love to my dick.  Let me know how
much you want it in your ass."

Jesse didn't waste time.  With his legs still in the splits, he took my
manhood in his big, pale hand and brought it to his lips.  He began licking
slowly, but in little time – with a struggle over my size – he had my
cock all the way down his throat.  Who would have thought that a pale
dancer in Montana could suck dick like a champ?  He had done this before.
Fuck, the gay boi had sucked a lot of cock before.  Maybe not black cock,
but he had worked on big tools.  He knew exactly what to do, from holding
his breath as he deep throated me to relaxing his throat so that he could
swallow the entire length and thickness of my bull dick.

I would have gladly taken a blow job from the college boy, but his muscular
glutes and the show he put on made me intent on claiming his ass.  Once I
was rock hard, I moved behind him, pulling his singlet aside to reveal his
hole.  It was still wet, and with my dick dripping from Jesse's spit, I
couldn't resist fucking him bare.  I added my spit to his hole.  I forced
the head of my cock against his pink pucker, eliciting a long moan from
Jesse as he wiggled his ass, pressing backward against me.  I had to think
his legs were getting close to cramping from being in the splits so long,
but he was completely focused on getting his ass plowed.  And I was
completely focusing on plowing it.

I moved forward, feeling his hole clamp around my dick as I began to slide
inside him.  His guts were hot as a furnace and Jesse groaned and cried,
"Ahh!" each time another half inch of my cock sank inside him.  His long
fingers were gripping the side of the table and the sun coming through the
glass block wall was like a spotlight on the big muscles of his pale,
freckled shoulders.  His arms and shoulders were tensed.

With my dick halfway imbedded in Jesse's tight hole, he groaned and slowly
began to move his legs backward.  They must have gotten to the point of
cramping.  But rather than lowering his legs to the floor, he wrapped them
around my hips, crossing his feet in the small of my back.  I took
advantage of the situation, taking a step back and pulling Jesse off the
table so that only his chest and arms were left to support his body.  I
grabbed a muscular thigh with each hand, and held the dance boy, his torso
pinned by my cock.

I don't think Jesse understood that only half of my fuck pole was inside
him.  I pulled out and began pumping halfway in and out of his hole,
eliciting a series of gasping moans from the rock boy.  But Jesse was in
for a surprise.  After a few minutes of the half fuck, I gripped his legs
and pulled his ass backwards while ramming forward, sinking the rest of my
cock deep inside the twink.

Jesse let out a wail and his muscles tensed even more.  But with his legs
trapped by my arms, he was helpless.  Now I was ready for a good fuck.  I
pulled out almost all the way and slammed back inside him.  I controlled
Jesse's body with my arms, jerking him backward as I thrust forward.

Soon I had a good pace going.  Sweat was running down my bare chest and
into my crotch, keeping my dick well lubricated as I bred the dance boy.
My stiff black rod pulled almost all the way out of his hole and then
disappeared completely inside him.  Wet, slapping sounds echoed throughout
the old gas station as my crotch smacked against Jesse's bubble butt.

The kid was a moaner.  Each time I split his boi cunt, he groaned and
whimpered, and a little "Ahh," escaped his lips.  I could feel my nut
coming and almost before I knew it, I was past the point of no return.  I
pumped Jesse a couple more times and froze, my cock rammed as far inside
his guts as it would go, and growled, "Fuck, yeah!"  I shuddered as my
balls discharged, pumping load after load of white spunk into Jesse's tight
ass.  It had been too long – a week – since I had used Kyle's ass,
and my balls were overflowing.

As my cock stopped spewing, all at once the gas station felt incredibly
hot.  I eased out of Jesse's ass, pulling his singlet back over it, but
making sure to shove the thin, stretchy material into his hole to soak up
the cum that was sure to leak from his gaping ass.  I slowly lowered
Jesse's feet to the ground.

To my surprise, Jesse had cum too, hands-free.  Long lines of white spunk
graced the concrete floor.  I had fucked the cum out of the dance boy!
Damn, that boy liked black dick.  My stint in Montana was looking up
already.  A horny little boi toy that I could use whenever I wanted
–conveniently located a long staircase away from my room – was
exactly what I needed.

I wasn't done.  I turned Jesse around and stared down into his lust filled
eyes.  "That was incredible," he said.  "I've never gotten fucked like that
before."  He wanted me to kiss him, wanted me to gush and tell him what a
great fuck he was.  None of that was going to happen.  Jesse didn't
appreciate it yet, but to me he was a toy, a cum dump and nothing more.  He
would come to understand that all too well.

I shook my head slowly and brought a finger up to his lips.  "You don't
talk," I said.  "You use your mouth for only one thing."  His eyes betrayed
uncertainty, but if he had any doubt what I meant, it vanished when I
pressed him roughly to his knees.  My big black cock, semi-hard and still
coated with cum, swung in his face. The kid gave me a questioning look, but
I clenched my jaws and pushed his head toward my dick.  If he had any
question before, he now knew what his mouth was for.

Jesse licked his lips and soon greedily swallowed my piece, cleaning it
off.  He was a born slut.  He stared up at me the entire time, his face
framed by his auburn hair, plastered to his forehead by his sweat.  In the
stark light of the late afternoon sun, Jesse's pale skin glowed.  His
sideburns were just a little longer than normal, not a look I normally
liked, but on Jesse they were edgy and sexy.  To me, his burns said, `fuck
me, I can take it.'

As his expert mouth worked my cock, I began to get hard again.  I usually
stiffen up again two or three minutes after climaxing, and in no time my
dick was rock hard, buried in Jesse's throat.  I let the college boy work
on me for a good, long time, but while I knew I would eventually deposit
gallons of spunk in his mouth, now I was going to ring up another piece of
his amazing ass.

I pulled him to his feet, slipping the straps of his singlet over his
shoulders and sliding it over his hips, letting it fall to the floor.  "Use
your little uniform to clean your mess up off the floor," I ordered.  Jesse
complied, dropping to his knees and soaking his cum up with his singlet
before getting back to his feet.  I took the singlet from him, and, finding
the part that was wet with my cum, stuffed it in his mouth.  "Just in case
you're tempted to say anything," I said with a hard smile.  I tied the
singlet around his head, making sure it wouldn't move.  It made a nice, ad
hoc gag.

I guided Jesse into the garage bay that he and Travis shared. I didn't want
Jesse to be comfortable, so fucking him in his own bed was out of the
question.  Instead, I shoved him onto Travis's bed.  His dancer/rock
climber body looked amazing as I put his legs on my shoulders and readied
my cock for its second excursion into his ass.  His hole was still sloppy
with my cum, so any thought of lube was unnecessary.  Used holes are the
best.

Jesse's body tensed as I pushed the head of my cock past his sphincter.  I
played with him, pushing in just a little and pulling back out, using only
the tip of my dick.  His moans were muffled by the gag in his mouth.

Climbing onto the bed and leaning into him, I made Jesse take the full
length of my cock in one endless thrust, driving in relentlessly, making
him wonder when the assault would stop.  My black pubes finally pressed
against his soft, white ass cheeks.  Damn, his ass felt good!  I began to
ride him, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in.

The second fuck was better than the first.  I was probably too horned up to
completely enjoy the first one, but I took my time on the second, ramming
my rod inside the dance boy repeatedly.  The only bad thing was how hot it
was.  I was drenched with sweat and dying of thirst.  I could have guzzled
a gallon of water.

Jesse's body was incredible, his defined abs and chest slicked with sweat
as he lay underneath me and moaned into his gag.  After a good 15 or 20
minutes of getting fucked, Jesse's cock began to stiffen again.  Soon it
was dripping pre-cum.  I didn't think there was any way he was going to
climax hands-free again, and I debated whether to play with him, but his
dick looked good.  I wrapped my fist around his pole, and he gasped so hard
that I though he was going to swallow the gag.

Jesse was no virgin.  The bitch was a great cocksucker, and the way he had
advertised his ass could only mean he had been fucked plenty of times.  But
had he been fucked hard, slam fucked, treated like a slut?  Had his hole
been carved up by a big black cock?  I had no idea, but I was about to give
Jesse a fuck he would remember for a long, long time.

I rode him without mercy, fisting his cock and using it to manipulate his
body.  My black pole became a lance, splitting the white boy's awesome ass
time and time again.  I let all of my weight collapse on him as I skewered
him, pounding his ass like a sledge hammer.  Fucker would never forget my
big black cock invading his asshole.

My second climax was building.  But before my balls emptied, my hand got
wet as Jesse's second load erupted from his cock.  I would have stuffed my
fingers in his mouth to make him eat his own jism, but with the gag that
wasn't an option.  I settled for spreading the boy's cum across his
sweat-coated chest and abs.  Concentrating on my own climax, I rammed Jesse
as hard as I could a dozen times, then closed my eyes, flexed my legs and
plunged into his hole one last time, as far as I could go.  My cock lurched
and flooded Jesse's boi cunt.

I seriously considered drilling the kid a third time, but it was so damned
hot that I had to get out of the garage.  I kept my dick buried inside
Jesse until it was mostly soft, then pulled the gag from the slut's mouth
and grabbed a handful of his hair, shoving his face into my crotch.  The
dance boy knew what to do.  He lapped at my cock like a champ, cleaning it.

My running shorts and tank top were at the foot of the bed, and I started
to reach for them, but then figured, why bother?  All I had to do was climb
two flights of stairs before getting in the shower.  Jesse got up too,
probably worried about cum from his gaping hole soaking into Travis's bed.
The bed covers were already wet with sweat.

Before leaving, I shoved the dance twink against the wall and lifted him
off the floor, pinning his body between me and the wall.  I pressed my lips
against his, plunging my tongue into his mouth, hungrily dominating him.
My hands found his round, muscular bubble butt, and I sank two fingers
inside him, feeling my hot cum.  Breaking the kiss, I shoved my fingers
into Jesse's mouth, making him eat more of my spunk.

Shit, I thought.  If I keep this up I'm going to get hard again.  I clamped
my free hand on Jesse's jaws and whispered to him, "Has your pussy been
used by a black cock before?"

"No," Jesse said.  His wide eyes betrayed a mixture of fear, passion and
excitement.  I had seen the look before.  I knew Jesse was hooked.  Like
they say, once you go black, you can't go back.

"And do you want me to fuck your ass again?" I asked.  I knew Jesse's
answer, but I needed to have it in the open to establish our arrangement
going forward.

"Yes..."  Jesse said quietly.

"I own your ass, understand?" I said.  "Whenever I want it, wherever I want
it, however I want it.  I'll breed you like a bitch slut."  I ground my
body against Jesse's, crushing him against the wall as I took his mouth
with my tongue.  Breaking the kiss, I asked, "You got a problem with that?"

"No," Jesse said in a quick gasp.  His blue eyes betrayed his excitement.
Laughing harshly, I said, "I don't give a fuck if you have a problem with
it.  Black man owns you, bitch."

The big, industrial shower in my room felt incredible after my run and
double cum dump.  A hot little dancer boy that I could use as a toy to get
off anytime I wanted was perfect.  Montana didn't look so bad.

* * *

Jesse turned into even more of a fuck toy than I could imagine.  He
constantly watched me, and all I had to do was to give him a little signal
or nod and he would throw his legs in the air.  His eyes begged me to fuck
him.  In less than a week, I told Jesse to stop wearing underwear, unless
he was in the gas station and had nothing on other than boxers.  I liked
being able to slide my hand inside the dance boy's shorts, grab his ass and
stick a finger into his twat as a precursor to fucking it.  Underwear got
in the way.

Jesse had the misfortune of rooming with Travis, who was by far the rock
climbers' biggest ladies' man.  Two or three nights a week Travis slept
with some chick – usually a different one each night, as near as I could
tell – and he would kick Jesse out of their garage bay.  So the kid
would end up on the couch in the living room.  It was sort of silly,
because the three garage bays were badly soundproofed to begin with, and as
the guys never lowered the garage doors, if one of the rock boys was
fucking, the other five guys could hear everything.  But I suppose hearing
the sounds of Travis getting laid – or seeing him wailing on some poor
coed's cunt if you walked past his bay to get to the rest room or kitchen –
was different than sleeping in a bed six feet away.

When I got home late and wanted to breed some ass, if Jesse was on the
couch I would sometimes let him sleep with me, although I don't know how
much he slept given that I fucked his boi pussy at least two or three times
on those nights.  In the mornings, I was up well before any of the rock
climbers stirred downstairs, so I always kicked Jesse out before anyone
would see him on the walk of shame, descending from my room.

TO BE CONTINUED...

I hope you liked the fall of the first of the rock climbers.  They won't
all fall so easily...  Chapter four is underway.

Please send me your feedback.  Coltonaalto@gmail.com

© Copyright Colton Aalto 2015