Date: Tue, 17 May 2016 19:50:23 +0000 (UTC)
From: simon peter <simon23232@yahoo.com>
Subject: College Tales

Dear Reader

This story, like many of my other stories, has elements that are based on
real personal experiences.

However, the names and places are all fictitious.

If you feel like sending me a comment, negative or positive, please do so:
simon23232@yahoo.com

I would love to read your comments and suggestions.

Also, very importantly, please donate to keep nifty going. Thanks.

Simon


College Tales

By Simon Peter


My college years were not really that eventful. My Omar experience during
my sophomore year was probably one of only two memorable and gratifying
(sexually) instances of my campus life. I had met Omar and we had enjoyed
each other to the extreme during my sophomore year when I was still living
in the dorms. The following year, being an exchange student from the Sudan,
Omar had had to go back to his country. I keep thinking what if Omar had
been able to stay? Would we still be together today?

Hmmm.

Starting my junior year, I wasn't really too expectant about new exciting
relationships now that Omar had left. What we had, Omar and I, was far too
good to be followed by an equal repeat. Very special.

But... one couldn't know until one has tried, huh?

I was able to rent a small one-room studio just off campus. I was quite
excited about living on my own although I did miss the dorm guys walking
around half naked in shorts or undershorts, or in towels wrapped around
their waist, showing bulges and wet, dripping torsos.

But living alone had its perks, of course.

Around two weeks into the semester, I walked into the cafeteria for lunch.
As usual, the first thing I did was scan the place for faces I knew or
faces I might fancy. The place wasn't really that crowded. At one of the
tables overlooking the bowling alley, separated by a sheet glass wall, sat
a good-looking coed. Although sitting, she looked to me to be sort of
petite, with short-cut brownish hair, pale skin, full lips, in short, quite
attractive. I liked them petite! I had no idea how her figure was shaped.
But she did show an interesting bust protruding just above the edge of the
table as she bent and slurped up spaghetti. I also liked the bust! I
decided that perhaps I could join her and get to know her. Why not?

She might be good for a fuck or two. What a dirty mind I had! Here I was,
in the middle of academia, and all I was thinking about was where, when,
and with whom I could please junior.

Junior being, you know, wink. Junior actually is not bad, not bad at
all. Soft, he has a nice manly shape, mushroom head (cut and pinkish),
thick shaft for a soft penis, generous pubes curling around the base, nice
dangling sacks; but hard, he is a sight! Twenty centimeters (8.5 inches) of
rock-hard muscle.

He erects upwards. This verticality for his size is very practical since he
is almost always in some degree of erection, and the bulge could be hidden
as he plasters himself against my belly, reaching all the way to my navel,
and partially hidden by the zipper/buttons of my jeans.

Junior loves action, be it the mouth/tongue, the pussy, or the ass. He
abhors sitting idle. But most importantly, and amazingly to the people he
services (chicks and guys), he maintains erection after he shoots a load-or
two-or more. He is, in this way, like the Duracell bunny, on and on and
on. This pleases me to no end, sometimes even surprises me, when he keeps
going through soreness and frequent ejaculations. Where does he keep all
this juice, I wonder? I stop him when it becomes too painful for me. But he
has a mind of his own. Most of the time, I have no control over him at
all. Oh, well.

Back to my college tale.

I looked around some more. Hmmm... Nice guy! He was sitting at a table
right by the entrance door, and I had to turn sideways to see him. After a
couple of minutes of scanning, my eyes always reverting back to this
handsome guy, he lifted his head and noticed me looking at him. He smiled
and nodded his head in a friendly way. I nodded back, quickly averting my
eyes and walking shakily towards the cafeteria bar. Oh, my God. Just in
that short glance, I was hooked.

The guy had blond hair. I usually am not into blonds, girls or guys. But
his blondness did not reflect the typical look-at-me-I-am-cute-and-BLOND
look. When he looked at me his light blue or gray eyes-my glance was too
quick for me to be sure which-sparkled. His smile was warm. A bread crumble
was stuck at the corner of his mouth, so cute. Something deep down inside
me told me that there must be something of interest in there, a very
interesting interest!  As I was trying to decide what to choose for lunch,
spaghetti with meatballs or a salad, I thought about this guy. I thought
that, yes, he was a better prospect than the petite chick. I could hit on
him. He did not look gay or feminine-that's what I liked: guys who were
like me, just regular normal guys who had certain sexual preferences that
did not reflect on the way they walked or talked. Hmm... salad.

Yes, I should maintain my physical figure. I stopped being as skinny as I
had been as a teenager, or as nerdy. I still wore eyeglasses, but they were
now rimless and intellectual looking. I considered myself as slim fit
rather than skinny wimpy.

Picking up my salad and a bottle of water I sauntered to this guy's table,
wearing a smile.

"Hi," I said, "mind if I join you?"

He looked up, and again I was dazzled by his eyes-gray not blue-and his
smile. "Sure."

I sat across from him, immediately noticing that he was wearing shorts, the
running-shorts kind. Hot! A quiver down there in my groin; junior is
interested!  Starting on my salad, I introduced myself. "I'm Ed, friends
call me Eddie."

"Hey, Eddie," he replied, his smile growing brighter. Hmmm... good
start. "I'm Peter, and my friends call me Pete."

"Hi, Pete," I rejoined also smiling widely, not stupidly I hoped, as I was
struck by his immediate friendly attitude.

He laughed. My heart skipped a beat. Oh, man, this guy was hot and I wanted
him there and then. I was already hard! Fuck. How could a few words and a
smile make me horny? I was not normal, for sure.

Immediately, we started conversing, very naturally. He was majoring in
psychology, senior year. He still lived in the dorms because he had a
scholarship. He hated the dorms, he said. They were too noisy and there was
no privacy at all. I totally agreed. Besides, his roommate was one of those
sweaty, noisy, mouthy, jocks that you often saw on campus.

He, however, enjoyed his lunches by himself and often spent a lot of time
alone in the library. When I apologized for encroaching on his aloneness
and privacy for lunch, he said that he did enjoy people who were
intellectual-my glasses?-and handsome-my physique? I blushed.

What? I mumbled something about looks and stuff incoherently with my eyes
cast down into my salad bowl, finding protection among the lettuce,
tomatoes, and what-not.

There was a short, embarrassing lull after his declaration. I needed to
break it somehow. I couldn't scare him off by being cold or distant.

"Hey," I said looking at my watch. "I have a class in about 15 minutes, but
I am free for the afternoon.

Maybe we could get together for a beer or a coffee or something?"

Smiling, he said, "Well, I will be doing my running stuff, which I like to
do after eating lunch. Keeps me fit, you know." Again the heartbreaking
smile, the junior-twitch in response. "A beer after my run sounds
fantastic. It usually takes around 45 minutes."

"Great," my voice turned a bit husky. "How about Campus Bar at around 3?"

"Deal," he smiled.

Needless to say, my lit class dragged by with me having no idea what was
being discussed. I was so out of it and so into what-ifs. What if Pete was
straight and only interested in some male bonding or some shit like that?
But he sounded quite friendly.

But then again, maybe he was the friendly type, period. What if he liked my
intellectual look only, not my sexy look? Was I so much that? But he did
remark on my physique, didn't he? Hmmm...

What if he already had a friend to share his bed, guy or chick? But he
lived in the dorms and he was eating lunch alone and he said he liked to
spend time alone. He was running alone.

My mind was in a twirl of doubts and prospects. With Omar all the way away
in the Sudan, I needed a friend. Will my friend for this year be a guy
also? Shouldn't I be dating chicks as well? I loved pussy. But I loved guys
also.

Back and forth, thoughts crowded in my mind as the voices of my professor
and classmates droned incomprehensibly around me.

Finally, the class ended. Hastily, I made my way to the Campus Bar. I liked
this bar because it was much quieter and less frequented than the other
bars around campus. It usually played soft music so one could hold a decent
conversation over a beer. It also had booths that ensured privacy-hint?
Wink?

As I entered the cool dim bar, my cock stretched painfully against my
briefs and jeans and, without looking down, I knew that I had a bulge! Even
now, at 23, I still suffered from this constant hard-on or at least a
semi-erection. Suffered? To some people this might be considered a
blessing. But I always thought that I would have really liked to have some
control over junior, down there. Actually not really "junior" since it
was-still is-quite impressive. Hmmm.

As my eyes got used to the dimness of the bar, I spotted Pete in one of the
booths towards the back of the place. Who could miss the lovely blond hair?
Taking a deep breath, uselessly ordering junior to behave-he never
listened-, I walked over and slid into the booth bench next to Pete. He was
smiling, and as I sat down next to him I noticed his glance at my crotch,
his eyebrows raised for a couple of seconds, and his smile expanded
wider-sunnier I could say, even in the dim lighting of the bar.

Had he seen my bulge? Junior responded by stretching even harder against my
jeans. Oh, yes, I could do this guy. And oh, yes, he must have noticed
junior.

Our conversation started a bit ordinary, discussing classes, schedules, the
dorms, campus life, and such.

Around 30 minutes later and into our second beer, Pete stared at me and
said, almost bashfully, "Eddie, can I ask you a question?" After I nodded
my head thinking oh Pete you can sit in my lap, he continued. "At lunch?
What made you come over and join me?"

I was stumped. This was very direct. Of course, my initial reaction was
confusion on how to respond. I couldn't very well come out and say because
you physically attracted me and I wanted to see if I could spend a night
with you in my bed! I hesitated and he noticed that.

"Eddie, it's ok, you don't need to justify what you did. I am thankful that
you did. But I am also a bit curious, that's all." He rubbed his hands
together somewhat nervously, I thought.

He was so direct and honest, and so fucking innocent! Why couldn't I
respond in the same way? I couldn't.

"Uh... ummm..." I looked down at my beer trying to avoid his cute searching
gray eyes and to subdue the ache in my groin-down, junior. "Well, you know,
Pete, it's just that... just that it's the beginning of the semester and I
have moved out of the dorms and I, well, I am not too hot on having a whole
host of friends, and because of that and because I noticed that you were
also sitting by yourself, well, I thought that... I thought," I knew I was
rambling but I couldn't stop and his smile communicated some consternation
over my discomfort. I continued, "I thought it would be nice to meet new
people, you know, get to know someone, and, well, perhaps, maybe build some
sort of relationship ..." I left that open, feeling sweat in my pits and
around my balls. Fuck. I sounded like a fucking kid instead of the
intellectual, suave person I hoped I reflected.

"Hmmm..." He didn't sound too convinced. "Really, Eddie, it's fine. I'm
enjoying our talk and glad that you made the first move. I do understand
how you feel about the dorms. I envy you moving out and having your own
place."

Without even thinking, I blurted out, "You know what, Pete? Why don't we
blow this joint and go up to my place? I could show it to you and we would
have some more privacy?"

I knew I had such a fucking hopeful look on my face. I inwardly bit my lip
and reprimanded myself for being so forward and direct-vulgar, maybe? What
would he think of my invitation? Would he suspect that I had ulterior
motives? That I want him? Bad?

"Well, that sounds like a plan," his bare thigh touched mine as he moved on
the bench to try to get up from behind the table. Instinctively, I nudged
back. He looked at me, smile never leaving his face, nodded, and slid out.

A sign? He stood up, his sexy shorts revealing his
not-too-hairy-but-sexy-as-hell thighs. Did he just nod at me? Hell, he did!
Did that mean he knew what I was after and that he wanted the same? Was my
imagination carrying me a bit too far? Junior was prodding me to move,
pulsing against my navel.

We left the bar and walked to my studio, two blocks away. He followed me up
the stairs and into the room. He stood just inside the door step looking
the place over. As I closed the door and turned to follow, not realizing
that Pete had not moved but was still standing close, I bumped straight
into him.

Reflexively my arm wrapped around his waist to steady myself. He jumped
with a start and grabbed my hand, pressing it to his waist and turning
around to face me. I straightened to find my arm still holding him just
over his hip and his hand covering it and pressing, his face centimeters
away from mine. I pulled him to me and planted my lips on his. It felt so
natural.

His moan was loud and his mouth opened immediately letting my tongue
probe. Thank you, God! Our bodies came together and we grinded and
rubbed. His hands reached up to my hair and he pressed me closer as we
kissed and bonded.

After I didn't know how long, we separated, moved a bit away from each
other, and stared at each other. I almost melted in front of his glaring,
sparkling light gray eyes and his full lips, with a touch of a smile and
still wet from my tonguing him.

Without a word, I took his hand and led him to the sofa-cum-bed, and the
hottest making-out I had ever experienced followed. Our bodies entwined,
one of his bare thighs between my legs rubbing my groin, lips glued to each
other with tongues doing the decathlon to each other. I was hard as a rock,
aching from the confinement of my briefs and jeans. I could feel his
erection pressed to my hip. It was heavenly as sensation after sensation
hit me and my hunger for him increased in bounds and leaps.

It had been, what, five months or so since my last sex with Omar, just
before he left to the Sudan.

Since then I hadn't had any sex. Surprising for a guy of my age and my
horniness. But throughout the summer, it just hadn't happened. I was too
hungry for a fuck. I was so horny that I thought I was going to shoot a
load right then into my jeans!  Pushing him away, but still caressing his
neck, I said hoarsely, "Fuck, Pete, man, this is hot!"

I breathed deeply and pulled his head back to mine as we kissed and
kissed. Eventually we started to undress. I ran one hand over his shorts,
pressing on his erection-impressive equipment-the other hand slipping under
his t-shirt up his chest, finding his nipples and squeezing them. He moaned
loudly, his nipples hardened between my thumb and forefinger.

I stood up and Pete started to unbutton my jeans, my bulge so pronounced
and stretching. He kissed it teasingly, removing my hands and undoing the
buttons himself, slowly. I removed my shirt as he pulled my jeans down and
rubbed my erection through my briefs with his lips.

"You have a nice thing in here, Eddie," he smiled up at me. "I wanted to
check it out since the moment you walked over to my table at lunch. It was
bulging then."

So he had noticed!  "And I knew I wanted you."

His kissed the leaking tip of my cock, almost bursting from under my briefs
waistband, pressing his lips on it. I arched my back instinctively and gave
in to his delicious discovery of my sex. His hands reached up to my now
bare chest and he started playing with my chest hair and nipples as his
mouth was doing wonders to my cock still covered inside my underwear. I
felt the buildup in my nuts and immediately moved away, breathing deep and
hard.

"Oh, man, oh, man," I muttered, trying to force my juice back into my
balls. "Fuck, Petey, I almost shot a load there. Wow," I exhaled. "Let's
take a little fucking break, man."

He laughed and stripped. Fuck, he was delicious. I so wanted to turn him
around, bend him over and rape his ass. But I forced some control on
myself-but never on junior who seemed to grow bigger and harder--and moved
to the small kitchenette.


"Coffee? Beer? My cock?" I jokingly asked, smirking. I was feeling more
comfortable now that I knew I had him.

"I'll have the first and end with the last," he smirked back. "How's that?"

"Is that so, now?" I retorted playfully. "You seem to be one hungry stud."

We both chuckled, and I felt his arms wrapping me around my waist as I
reached for the coffee and kettle and cups. We moved around the small
kitchenette as one person, his front glued to my back, him totally nude and
sporting a hefty erection pressed to my butt cheeks, me still in my briefs,
my erection, as usual, very much up to par.

As we waited for the water to boil, we kissed and hugged and licked necks
and stuff like that. We both wanted more, but neither of us was willing to
hurry the moment. This was just a few hours after our first "hi." Already
things were moving pretty fast. I wanted to savor this meeting, even though
I knew that there would be many more to come. I dug this guy big time, and
he seemed to dig me as well.

Cool. No, hot! Sizzling!  Coffee ready and steaming, we filled our mugs. He
added sugar and cream, the wimp, but I took mine black.

"No cream?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and a glint in his eyes. Impish.

"I'll take the cream later, straight from the source," I said, my face
reflecting my dirty thoughts. Imp for imp, huh?

I took a cigarette from my Winstons pack on the top of my desk, and lit
up. "You smoke, Pete?"

"Well," he said. "I do, but not tobacco."

"Oh?" I raised my eyebrows again, expecting him to come back with a retort
similar to my "cream"

comment, like smoking my cock, or something. But, no. Pete fished out a
paper pouch from his shorts pocket still laying on the floor, opened it and
started to roll a joint.

"You know, Pete," I commented. "This stuff can be addictive."

"Get off it, Eddie," he laughed. "Weed is much less addictive than
tobacco. So don't lecture me."

"Yea, I'd rather fuck you," I whispered.

We kept up this bantering until we finished our coffee and
cigarette/joint. We were pretty horny by then, what with all the
anticipation and the snide remarks, but mostly it was our nudity and close
proximity to each other that was heating us up to boiling levels. He tasted
of sweet weed; I must have tasted nicotine-ish.

Standing up, I grabbed Pete's hand and pulled him over to my sofa bed,
still rolled down from the night before-I hadn't had time to tidy up, and
besides, who gave a fuck?

He stretched on his back and I climbed on top of him. Kissing, licking,
biting, grinding, we made out like a couple of over-sexed adolescents,
which we were, over-sexed, that was.

His hands slipped under the waistband of my briefs and pulled them down
exposing my butt. I have a fuzzy, firm butt, round cheeks, hairy crack, and
he was exploring all of that with his hands and moaning under my weight on
top of him. I reached down and helped him slip my underwear down to my
ankles.

Our cocks touched and we were electrified. The current of ecstasy coursed
throughout my body, touching every nerve. I rubbed against him, the
throbbing driving both of us wild, pressing on him.

Slowly, I licked down his smooth chest to his navel and down to his
rock-hard dick. I tasted saltiness on the tip of his cock and I teased it
by licking down the shaft and around the balls. Pete bucked up, willing me
to take his manhood into my mouth. But I resumed my licking and biting
along the upper thighs, from the inside, to the balls, tongue sliding back
into his crack, around his hole. Reaching up, I fisted his cock shaft and
held it still. I could feel the shivering of his body under my
mouth. Afraid that he would shoot a load so soon, I stopped. Straddling his
groin, pressing on his cock and balls with my butt, I bent and we kissed
again. He was running his hands up and down my chest, around my nipples,
the sides of my neck.

I knew that neither of us could take this for too long. We needed
release. Reaching for the bedside table drawer, I fished out a condom. As
soon as Pete saw me tear off the packet open with my teeth, his eyes opened
wide. "You meaning to fuck me, Eddie?"

"Duh," I smirked and turned him over on his belly.

"Hey, wait a minute," he started to object but obediently turned over. I
slapped his butt, gently but firmly.

"Can't wait a minute, buddy. I want you and you want me, so stop this
shit," I mumbled in a low but forceful tone.

"Oh, yea, Eddie, I do want you. Very much. But I'm tight and your dick is a
monster. You have to go slow, man."

My cock was now sheathed with the thin ribbed condom, and throbbing with
anticipation. I wished I could fuck him bare, but I had to be careful,
hadn't I? Junior didn't agree, naturally.

I grabbed the bottle of lube and applied a generous amount on my cock and
down his crack, stroking myself and kneading his hole with my finger. It
puckered under my touch, and Pete's moans deepened as if coming from way
down his groin.

Placing my cockhead at his hole, I bent, my hands supporting me on both
sides of Pete's body, and I slowly pushed. I felt his puckered ass stretch,
and his moaning became louder. He pushed back on my thighs with his hands,
groaning.

"Easy, baby, easy, fuck, it hurts man, easy, please." He was grunting.

Not minding his objections and knowing that once my cock head penetrated,
the initial pain would recede, I pushed harder, not letting up.

"Ohhhhhh," he screamed, burying his face into the pillow.

"Relax, baby," I goaded him with my lips at his ear, biting on his
earlobe. "Relax and let me in."

"Am fucking trying, Eddie," he said, the words barely escaping his mouth
with the fast breathing.

I thrust hard, and penetrated. My cockhead was through his sphincter
muscle, stretching his hole.

"AHHHHHHH...," Pete screamed.

"Shh.. Pete, fuck, don't be a wimp. Take my cock like a man."

"A man?" he whimpered. "A fucking MAN? Eddie, your cock is inside my
hole. I feel like a bitch under you."

"Yea, baby, my bitch," and I thrust harder as the shaft slid though and the
cockhead explored the insides of this hot guy. In small, but sure thrusts I
penetrated further, deeper, his body heat turning me on to the extreme.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, please, Eddie, pull out," he grunted under me, trying to
keep his screaming down but not being able to. "My ass hurts, Eddie, man,
for the love of God, pull out."

I felt his sphincter squeeze hard with pain. But I didn't let up. I kept
the pressure and more cock buried in his hole. Finally, I was all the way
in and I stilled.

Pete was whimpering, heaving, crying?

Releasing my weight off my arms, I lay on top of him, my cock deep inside
him, my chest flush against his back, my mouth on his neck, my hands
pulling his knees up and pressing them to the bed. Grinding my butt against
his, I waited for him to get used to the stretched hole and the pain. His
breathing came out fast and throaty as he tried to accommodate me. He was
mumbling all kinds of incomprehensible stuff into the pillow, but I could
make out "fucker," "oh, my ass," "fuck, it hurts," and a lot of "oh, yea,"
and "man, oh, man."

When I felt his sphincter loosen around the base of my cock, I started to
pull out slowly, centimeter by centimeter. His hole twitched as he felt the
sliding rod rub against his insides. Pulling all the way out so that just
the head was inside his ring, I pushed back again, also slowly, also
centimeter by centimeter, until the whole length was buried again. His butt
started to move against me as the pain receded and he began to feel the
pleasure. He stretched both arms back to grab my butt cheeks and pulled me
deeper inside him. His body quivering under me, he emanated such heat that
I felt my cock grow double in length and girth. I increased the tempo
gradually until I started to pound into him, thrust after thrust, rocking
both our bodies, bringing us to the brink.

My load was about to burst. I pulled out quickly, turned him over, sat on
his chest, slipped the condom off my throbbing cock, and stroked. "Open
your mouth, Petey," I hissed, the cum filling my cock shaft ready to burst
out.

He obliged and I shot. My first squirt went right through his lips all the
way down his throat.

Instinctively, he closed his mouth and the second squirt hit his eyes,
thick. I felt him stroking his dick as I shot glob after glob of my love
juice on his face, covering it, dripping to his chin, neck and chest. I
felt his warm jizz hit my back and slither down to my crack. This elicited
more squirts and groans. He was bucking under me as he shot on my back,
rubbing his cockhead on my butt cheeks.

Finally, both spent, I rolled off him and lay on my back, feeling the
stickiness against the bed sheet. I cradled his head under my arm as he
turned sideways, pressing his still-throbbing, and softening, sticky dick
at my hip and wrapping one leg across my belly. I turned and kissed him,
tasting strongly of my cum.

"Thank you, buddy," I said hoarsely. "That was so intense."

He didn't answer. He just reached over and held my semi-erect cock and
fondled it lovingly. He moved his head to kiss and lick and bite on my
nipples. I responded by hardening in his palm. Needless to say, another
bout followed and we fucked again.

And again.