Date: Fri, 18 Dec 1998 14:28:42 +0000
From: Scot Thompson <needit83@hotmail.com>
Subject: First Fraternity Party 

This is a story about a young man who is introduced to college life and
more at a fraternity party. It is "based on actual events."  Enjoy.
Comments to Scot Thompson at  needit83@hotmail.com. 


When I was a freshman in college, I got invited to a party at a
fraternity house. I considered this a big deal, because the legal
drinking age was 21 and I was still just 17, and I'd never even been
drunk before, yet alone, had a cock in my mouth or a man in my ass or...
But I get ahead of myself.
I got to the party about 8 o'clock and met up with a former high school
friend that graduated a year before I did, and was now a member of the
fraternity. He handed me a beer at the door, slapped me on the back and
yelled "Welcome To College." The rest of the party is sort of a blur.
There was music. There was alcohol. And there was a lot of dancing.
Somehow, toward midnight, I got into a conversation with a fraternity
brother named Alan. He was tall, maybe 6'3'' and thin, with an angular
face with brown eyes and dark black eyebrows, olive skin, and long thin
fingers. Sort of like an Italian Abe Lincoln, only cute. I remember he
was wearing a leather jacket, a black button-down shirt, jeans and black
penny loafers. His clothes were actually why we began talking -- I told
him I liked his jacket, he said thanks, and I began to yammer like a
drunken freshman about how I didn't know how to dress, and gosh, I feel
stupid being a freshman and not knowing anything about college fashion
or anything. He just listened and smiled and let me go on and on. When I
finally shut up, I found out Alan had come to the college to play
basketball on a scholarship but had suffered one of those "career
ending" knee injuries you hear so much about. He lost his scholarship
but decided to stay and finish his final year. Yes, he liked to dress
nice, he said. Maybe he could give me some pointers, sometime.
I was drunk. I was dizzy. And I was in complete awe. As Alan talked, I
found myself thinking "Wow. This guy is so cool. I wish I could be on
the basketball team and be so popular and good looking." I was falling
in love and I didn't even realize it. I must have looked like a high
school girl, nodding, smiling, my whole being hanging on his every word.
Eventually, Alan asked me if I'd like a tour of the fraternity house.
"Sure," I said. I didn't have a clue what was going to happen.
Alan showed me the kitchen where "the brothers eat", the large bunk
rooms where "the brothers sleep" and the long hall of private rooms the
Senior and Junior brothers get to have.
"Where's your room?" I asked naively, taking another swig of beer.
Alan just smiled and led me down the hall. 
His room was small and dark, lit by a single lamp on an end table next
to a small loveseat sofa -- the only place to sit -- other than a small
twin bed near the window. Basketball trophies and medals hung on the
wall. Pictures of Alan scoring, dunking, passing, holding a trophy above
his head with teammates somewhere in his past. At that moment, I thought
he was the most fascinating person in the world.
He closed the door then sat on the sofa. "It's more quiet with the door
closed. You can hear yourself think."
"Sure," I said, standing there stupidly.
Alan suggested I try on his leather jacket. "I bet you'll look great in
it." I tried it on and looked in full-length mirror in the corner. The
arms hung down below my hands. The waist rode down to about the middle
of my thighs. But I looked cool, or so I thought. 
"You look great," he said. "Big man on campus."
I probably blushed. Then Alan said something sort of strange.
"I've got an idea: why don't you try on one of my outfits. See what else
you look good in. Maybe you can go downstairs and pick somebody up."
Alan motioned to his closet. "Try on anything you like -- in fact, try on
that white turtleneck and black wool slacks."
Oh, OK, try on your clothes, sure, why not?  I thought.
Alan just sat and watched as I took off my shirt timidly and laid in on
the sofa. "The pants, too," he said. I hesitated. 
"Come on. Let me help." 
Huh?
Alan, still sitting on the sofa, simply reached out and unbuckled my
pants. That's when I realized what was going on. Alan was a "fag." He
was trying to get in my pants, just like I'd been warned that "fags" at
college would do. It was happening so fast, I didn't know what to do. I
just stood there and let him unbutton, unzip and pull down my pants.
"What are you doing?" I babbled, or something like that. My dick sure
understood. It popped to attention to second my pants hit the floor.
With one hand Alan reached over and turned out the light; with the other
he pulled down my shorts, pulled out my cock and put in his mouth.
"Oh, my god," I said. Warm wonderful sensations roared through my
crotch. I looked down to see Alan with my member fully buried in his wet
mouth and throat. He sucked hard and furious in deep long descents and
incredibly slow retreats. My legs began to shake. My body shuddered. The
room was spinning. In a moment, I started to black out and lost my
balance.
Alan caught me and picked me up -- all 125 pounds and 5'8" of me -- and
carried me to the bed.
"You've had too much to drink," he said, in the dark.
Yeah, and your mouth on my dick, I thought.
"You just need to get comfortable." He took off my shoes and pulled my
pants all the way off. In a second he was naked, too, and above me,
centering his lips and mouth again on my manhood. I had never been with
anyone but myself, if you know what I mean, so I came the moment I began
to even think the thought. Alan continue to suck and swallow until the
sensation was too much. I had to push him away.
"Oh my god," I said, over and over, like a mantra.
My lover lay down beside me and began to stroke my hair.
"I'm sorry I had to be so direct. It was something I just had to do."
I looked at him, thinking I should be mad, say something like "You
fucking fag! I can't believe you." But when I saw those dark brown eyes
in the dim light, those white perfect teeth and smooth warm lips, all I
could do was kiss him. Madly. Deeply. Like my life depended on it. And
he kissed me back, rolling me on top of him so that my small body rested
on his like a child on a parents.
"There's so much more to show you," he said. 
"Show me," I begged.
"Roll over" he commanded, and like a good dog, I did.
With my face to the pillow and my stomach to the sheets, he began to
kiss me from behind, on my neck, on my ears, then down the thin line of
my back, stopping to bite or nibble at the flesh at my sides and waist.
Then he spread my ass his hands. His tongue reached my hole and in
swirling, flicking movements, began to move inside.
"Oh, my god," I began again, as he rimmed, sucked and fucked my ass with
his mouth. My cock began to rise, resurrected from the dead, it seemed.
He moved to my balls. Oh fucking god, I thought. He's sucking on my
balls.
It was, again, too much. I moved from beneath him and onto my back. "I
want to suck you," I heard myself saying. "Please let me suck you."
Alan lay back on the bed, and I got a good look at his cock for the
first time. 
All I can say is that some wives tales are true: Tall men dark men with
long fingers and big hands have cocks meant for horses. It took both
hands for me to capture and surround it. It was thick and dark and hot,
and uncut. All I could compare it to was a day at the zoo when I got to
hold a six-foot boa constrictor in my hands. I looked at Alan in
surprise, then lowered myself to meet it. 
The taste of a man's cock. Is there anything like it? Especially when it
is oozing its clear greeting of spunk. My mouth stretched. My tongue
lavished praised on it. My throat strained to receive it. But it was too
big and too new for a boy who knew nothing about pleasing it. I felt
clumsy and stupid so I stopped.
Alan sensed my frustration.
"There are other ways to please a man," he whispered.
In a second I was on my back and Alan was kissing me again, deeply and
passionately, as he moved between my legs. Soon I felt a finger in my
ass, slick and wet, pushing and probing. In a second, it was inside, and
after only a brief moment of pain, I was in rapture. Another long finger
joined the first, then another, with more lubricant that had appeared,
seemingly from nowhere. My ass felt like it was stretching to contain an
explosion and fire inside. How many fingers in my now? I couldn't tell.
And I loved it.
The fingers suddenly disappeared as Alan moved higher above me so that
his battering ram stood poised at me doorway. He moved forward and the
insertion began.
There is no way to really describe this: Ecstasy. Pain. Love.
Humiliation. Soft gentle coaxing that gave way gradually and deliciously
to hard mighty fucking. I cried. I moaned. I called again to God. I
pulled his face to mine and kissed him and sucked on his tongue as he
bucked and thundered inside me. I thought I was going to split in two.
And suddenly, I came again, from the hammering of his massive cock in my
whimpering ass and the brush of balls on my soft smooth ass. Alan felt
me come, and joined me, his essence filling me like a jet of hot water
shot from a volcanic vent.
He collapsed on me, breathing hard and sweating, saying my name again
again. I wrapped my legs around his waist as his mouth gently kissed my
neck and face. And I began to cry.