From: paggan@aol.com (Paggan)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: The Horny Undergrad, prt i (m/m, oral)
Date: 2 Dec 1995 08:49:25 -0500

I make no disclaimer for the following story -- it's not true, but I wish
it
were!  This portion has been posted before.  I am now following it with
part
two.  As before, please give me whatever feedback you wish -- shall we go
for
part three or should I start a new story-line?  PAGGAN

                     THE HORNY UNDERGRADUATE      (Part i)

It started out just as one of those dreamy gym fantasies.  A
subsidiary gym fantasy, since his looks were so far from perfect,
and yet I always noticed him.  He wore stupid baggy shorts over
bicycle pants, which showed nothing of his box and not too much
of even his butt.  Watching him on a jogging machine against the
windows, you wouldn't give him more than a second or maybe a
second-and-a-half glance.  He was just a very tall, almost goofy
looking undergraduate, as silent and uncommunicative as the worst
of his kind, making his rounds on the machines and then going to
pump the little rockers in front of the windows.

It was once when he was lying on the bench press next to me that
I first felt a definite twinge of lust for him.  Laid out along
the board, his lanky frame was aligned in a most flattering way. 
His tits showed up wonderfully and his long, muscular stomach and
flanks were perfectly stretched out along the board.  His t-shirt was
riding up just enough to reveal the swelling line of hair across
his belly, and the stupid baggy shorts were draped and bunched
below the bench by their own ridiculous weight, allowing the best
defined basket I had yet seen on him to appear between his thighs
-- and an interesting sight it was.  I found myself following the
movements of the muscles in his arms and breasts while he pushed
the weights.  As I stepped away from my machine he finished
abruptly with his and stood up. I got my first direct look into
his baby blues.

Blue eyes and dark hair together have always done it for me, and
this one had exceedingly fine examples of both.  His face was
attractive enough, but the parts of it seemed out of scale with
the rest of his body, like his too long arms and jaw, and his too
long neck and wide mouth.  Coming face to face with him, I
suddenly realized that he would look much prettier in five or
seven years than he did now, and the knowledge somehow reshaped
his face into a form of a beauty which it didn't really have.

He grunted a nicety without meeting my eyes as we avoided each
other.  I considered focusing my charms on him until I had forced
him to say something in English, but there were so many students
both prettier and more friendly, that I usually just ignored the
sullen ones.  Except to stare, of course, if they happened to be
very beautiful.

        **********************************************

One day, a guy I sometimes chatted with named Ryan turned out to
be the lanky guy's freshman year roommate, and Ryan introduced
us. Mike -- Me.  Mike.  His blue blue eyes were deep set and
intense in flawless skin, and his fine, soft hair fell across
them in a flowing forelock.

He seemed to like me all of a sudden after that, which flattered
me no end.  He spoke each time we passed in our rounds, and
sometimes lingered to pursue some point of his discourse.  In
fact, he was quite talkative.  After two or three encounters over
the course of a week or so, I drew two conclusions: that he liked
the idea of having the acquaintance of an older man at the gym,
and that he was as straight as an arrow.

He talked about sports too much, his eyes following the girls'
butts, and he never looked at other boys.  He talked about school
in a very mundane way, and made no attempts to be charming or
witty.  He usually spoke abruptly and hurriedly and than fell
silent, nodding his head jerkily as I responded.

He mostly talked about himself, though, his eyes darting around
the gym as if he was expecting an attack or an opportunity from
any direction, at any moment.  This allowed me to stare at his
gorgeous eyes more than I would otherwise have dared.  When he
occasionally met my eyes with his I felt as if he was going to
pull me right into his head.  He, however, seemed not to notice
anything, and rattled along jerking and darting, talking to me
about his computer or his current roommate who worked at the
College radio station.

All this came to a head one day when a rather out and empty-
headed queen I sometimes dished with and I were camping it up in
the weight room.  Mike walked up and smiled nervously.  The
little queen smiled back and said:  "Well now that you're here
maybe he'll yank his eyes back around this way" and walked off,
with an exaggerated glance at the model perfect blonde we had
both just been ogling.

I was fairly mortified, by the rudeness as much as by
apprehension.  Mike seemed oblivious, and I was relieved, but our
conversation was short, and we disengaged sooner than usual to
continue our work-outs.  After this his manner didn't change, but
even so I still felt quite uncomfortable, even after several
encounters convinced me that he wasn't going to react.

A few days later he startled the piss out of me by walking around
the corner from the locker room into the shower, buck naked.  He
never showered at the gym, never even used the locker room, and I
had never seen him before without his bicycle pants and stupid
baggy shorts.  His body looked rather better than I had hoped,
and his cock somewhat less than I had thought.  His dick was no
more than average in size, though it hung down in a nice relaxed
way; his balls were much larger  -- after all, nothing among his
body parts seemed in scale with the rest -- and also hung down
nicely.

His breasts were large and muscular and surprisingly hairy.  His
legs were long, firm and hairy, with long ankles and full calves.
As I soon saw, his butt was just about perfect.  His ass checks
had deep oval dimples along their flawlessly smooth sides, and
they stuck out juuuuust enough.  His skin was fair and pale but
absolutely clear and fine.  He looked like he had never had a zit
in his entire life.  So what about the narrow shoulders?  Mike
may have had his faults, but right then he looked as luscious as
any fruit on the whole tree, even the magnificent, fully ripe and
unattainable ones right up at the top.

He wasn't nearly as startled as I was, and fortunately didn't
seem to notice my uncontrollable stare.  We were totally alone,
and I couldn't take my eyes off his perfect skin and bushy pubic
hair.  I was idly speculating about the size that uncut dick
might achieve as he beat it off in passionate teenaged lust, and
how it might look poking in and out of his fist, and the
intensity of the pleasure and lust in those blue eyes, when he
startled me out of my fantasy by speaking.

"Is it true what Eric said? I mean... When ya'll were looking at
that guy."  He said it in a very low, quiet voice, almost as if
to offer me the chance to ignore him if I wanted to. I
immediately knew what he meant, and froze, and tried to wish
myself away.  Oh, well.

"Yea, actually, it's true."

"Like, you're like...I mean..." Mike was looking up into the
corner of the shower room as I glanced up at his face.  Might as
well get this over with.

"Guess I'm as queer as a three dollar bill, Mike."

"Oh.  Well, I'm not prejudiced or anything..."  He trailed off. 
I didn't know what to say.  Suddenly he started chattering away
in his customary manner, darting and jerking as if to convince me
that he didn't care if I was as queer as a three, a four or even
a six dollar bill.  The subject was immediately his new cd-rom
drive and the software that came with it and just how useful it
was in his Anthro class... I was relieved, but also intrigued. 
Mike was proving himself a long way from the silent,
disinterested student of our first meeting.

That was that, for a while.  However, after this Mike started
changing and showering at the gym fairly often, and I was able to
regale myself with the sight of his shy hooded dick, his
marvelous hang-down balls, and his hot smooth young skin two or
three times a week.  He still chatted with me in the weight room
when our rounds crossed, and still seemed as straight and asexual
as ever.  He was quite modest and generally quiet in the shower. 
This was indeed to change.

On a certain blustery November afternoon, after our workout, we
showered together.  Mike, who was always business-like and brief
in his ablutions, seemed inclined to linger, and to spend a lot
of time pulling on and soaping up his dick, skinning back his
foreskin and showing off his pretty pink glans for the first
time, lifting and hefting and releasing his balls, rubbing his
bush and his belly.  It was very much as if he wished to draw my
attention to his cock, an endeavor with a high likelihood of
success as far as I was concerned.  He never got hard though,
never met my eye.  I tried to let it pass.  But when I emerged
from the gym, he was waiting for me at the bike rack, and fell
into step beside me as I walked away from the gym.

"What's up?" he asked, as if we had just met, instead of having
spent the better part of the last hour and a half together.

"Not much".  I was as neutral as possible with my heart pounding
away.

"Do you mind if I ask you a dumb question?", he continued.

"Sure, fire away."  How I was looking forward to it!

"Well,...what do you think...do you...do I have an okay dick?"  I
was nearly speechless.  A come-on, or trust in a presumed expert?

"I mean, do you think a girl would like my dick, would think it
was...okay, or whatever?"

"Mike, you've got a perfectly fine cock, man."  The conversation
was distinctly surreal, however much I liked the topic. 

"I mean, is it okay? I mean, you know, how does it compare..." 
Some light was breaking through the clouds.  I calmed down a bit
and assumed a knowledgeable, older-guy tone.

"Mike, there's not a man alive who hasn't worried about how big
his dick is at some point or another.  You've got a good looking,
ah..."  This was getting embarrassing.  "Your dick is just fine" 
I glanced around quickly to make sure there wasn't some overly
quiet pedestrian just behind us.  Mike caught my look and
blushed, but persisted.

"I'm always afraid it looks kinda weird, you know, I'm not
circumcised."

"Well, duh."  I was feeling familiar enough to banter.  He
blushed again, and I relented.  I was quite amused and a little
flattered that he had chosen to confide in me, and indeed more
than a little turned on at such a whiff of sexual potential, but
I chided myself for being turned on by his trusting questions.

"Mike, like I said, you look fine.  A lot of...people like uncut
cock more than the, uh...regular kind.  Anyway, I really can't
say much, because things can change so much when...they get hard. 
As far as I can tell, you have a perfectly normal sized,
perfectly normal uh, and I'm sure any number of, uh...girls would
like to, uh..."  I didn't really want to even think about that,
much less specify what some female would do with his meaty beaty.

"I wish one would damn try!" he said, with more enthusiasm than I
had heard from him so far.  "I just don't to have any luck.  I
guess I don't try hard enough."  Suddenly he launched into a
rapid and very disjointed account of his romantic history,
darting and jerking in his usual abrupt manner.  I gathered that
he was not a virgin, but had had only a few experiences which
were in some way unsuccessful and unsatisfying, that he found it
hard to talk to women, and that he had not the knack of either
charming or seducing them.

"To tell you the truth, I'm as horny as hell and I'm so fuckin'
tired of jerkin' off I could puke."  He spoke with some
vehemence.  "I always wonder if somehow it's my dick that turns
girls off or something."

"Well, like I said, there's no telling, from the little of it
I've seen" -- like I hadn't been eye-glued to his dick whenever
it was exposed to view -- "and there's no accounting for size
either.  I've seen dicks that almost disappeared when they were
soft get very nice and big with a hard-on, and I've known dicks
that looked huge get hardly any bigger at all, even when they
were as hard as they could get.  You really can't tell what a
particular dick will look like when it's hard, and who might or
might not like it."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"   Knocked for a loop again!  Where WAS
this going, anyway?

"No, actually I don't." 

"But you have had one, I mean, you have...you have seen, you've
done..." Mike was blushing again.

"Mike, I've been around the block.  I've seen my share of hard
dicks and done all kinds of things with 'em and to 'em and for
'em.  And loved every minute of it.  Like I said, I'm as queer as
a three dollar bill."  I was feeling a little brutal by this
point.  I really didn't want to be a love counselor to a straight
boy -- if for no other reason than that I was hardly qualified
for the role.  I was kind of hoping to shut him up, gross him out
-- whatever.

"I know this is weird, but I feel like I can talk about all this
without grossing you out."

"I doubt that you could gross me out if you tried."

Mike grinned at this and said abruptly, unexpectedly, "I want a
second opinion.  Will you come up to my room and talk?  Are you
busy this afternoon?  My roommate is out of town, he took an
early week-end."

My heart started beating, my knees got weak, my cock started
leaking.  I couldn't say "Sure" fast enough.

   ************************************************************

Mike's room was the usual undergraduate rabbit hutch, a blur of
clothes, posters, books, stuff everywhere.  As we came in he
swept a pile of clothes off of the only armchair and flopped down
on the bed.

"If you need to see it hard I'll get it hard" he said, and
started unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants.  I collapsed
into the chair, my whole insides pounding with excitement.  Mike
raised his hips and pulled his pants down,  loosened his shoes, then 
lifted his legs high, and in one swift, surprising motion pulled off his
shoes, 
pants and underwear.

I watched in disbelief as this occurred, and as Mike lay back,
spread his legs and started pulling on his cock.  His big soft
ballsac was draped between his legs on the worn coverlet; his
muscular thighs spread wide.  His dick got big fast, and as it
got harder it kept getting bigger.  It was nice and thick, but
not so thick as to be out of proportion with its length.  And as
the length swelled and grew until it was a good nine inches,
there was a lot to be proportionate to.

The substantial cock Mike was now pumping in and out of its
foreskin was a real beauty.  The hood was the kind that skins
back and forth part way when fully hard, so that the pink knob
peeped in and out entrancingly.  The form of his swollen dick was
perfectly to my taste; and even the slight apparent bend to the
right didn't detract from a thing in my opinion.

"Man, you've got a gorgeous beautiful cock.  That is really some
piece of meat."  If he needed admiration he would most certainly
get it from me.

I tore my eyes away from IT and met Mike's eyes.  They were as
bright and intense with lust and pleasure as I could ever have
wished.  He grinned widely as his eyes darted away from mine,
spreading his thighs a little more apart and moving his hips
slightly as he continued to stroke.  He looked like a very
relaxed, very horny boy -- straight or not or whatever, he was
unreservedly radiating a passionate sexuality.

I rose, took a few steps over to him, and went down first onto my
knees and then onto his magnificent member.  His hand
relinquished his cock immediately, as he sighed and said, "I was
hoping you would do that."  I speared it down in one fell stroke,
my nose in his bushy bush.  His cock fit so perfectly into my
throat that I could do that, but I was so hot for it I would have
made it happen even if it hadn't been a perfect fit.

"Oh Jesus" Mike moaned.  He bucked his hips, fucking my face,
once, twice, three times, before I pulled back, laid my hands on
his thighs and pushed them back.  I ran my hands up and down
those hairy columns as I did so, feeling the firm, smooth muscles
tensing slightly under the fine, soft skin.

Mike's crotch smelled clean and soapy from our recent shower --
however many hours it seemed since I had watched him soap it up
again and again, it couldn't have been more than fifteen or
twenty minutes ago. I took a deep breath, and slid back down on
his pulsing meat, burying my face again in his pubies, then
pulling back the full length until just the tip was in my mouth. 
I tongued his slit with rapid feathery flickers making him moan
and squirm.  His dick throbbed and became even harder and larger;
his hips bucked as he tried to fuck my throat again.

I still had my hands on his thighs, so I pushed him to heel as I
went back down on IT all the way and clamped my lips around the
base of his cock, grabbing his balls in my hand for the first
time.  They were silky soft and cool to the touch; I wrapped my
hand around them and pulled slightly, pushing my thumb up good
and hard right behind them.  Mike's moans were threatening to
turn into gasps, and I wanted to make sure he didn't shoot until
we had had a good round of fun.

His cock filled my throat completely.  I could feel it pulsing as
I held it, but I didn't squeeze it back, I just held it loosely
and entirely in my throat.  His hips stopped bucking and he
sighed deeply.

"Man, that is so good, so good" he said gently, sighing again and
relaxing against a pillow.  I pulled rapidly and lightly off of
his dick, and sat back on my haunches.  His cock was hard and red
and throbbing, glistening with spit, standing straight up with no
help from either of us.

"That thing is fucking beautiful", I said, still holding his
balls, squeezing them gently and pulling them so that his dick
would wobble back and forth in front of my face.  "I can't
imagine what you were ever worried about."  Mike grinned.

"I told you I was as horny as hell, now you've got a chance to
find out!"

I was glad to get that chance. I slowly lowered my face back onto
his meat, slowly let it slide down my throat, slowly squeezed it
as it went down, then slowly repeated the whole process in
reverse.  I did this three or four times, letting the slit get a
good tongue lashing every time I got to the knob, letting my lips
work one that slippery smooth foreskin. I kept going, a little
faster now, but still at a moderate steady speed.  I reached up
and pinched a nipple, fondling the firm, hairy tit it was
attached to, moving over to the other one. Then I drew my hand
down along Mike's side, squeezing his flesh as my throat
continued to squeeze his dick. Soon, however, I needed to take a
good breath, so I popped it out and sat up again.

Mike tried to take over as I left off, reaching for his throbbing
meat, but I put my hand out and knocked his arm away.

"That's my job."  Mike was startled, then snorted. "Well then,
get back to work!"

Before I sucked on his cock anymore, though, I had to get a taste
of those balls.  I bent over and took one in my mouth, sucking in
the loose folds around the testicle till the firm little egg slid
past my lips, then sucking in the other one.  My mouth was
stuffed with soft, fragrant skin, and I could feel stiff little
pubic hairs against my tongue and the roof of my mouth and Mike's
quivering jewels themselves wonderfully heavy on my tongue.  I
had to let one ball go so I could really tongue the other one,
gently pulling on Mike's ballsac as I dug my chin in behind it. 
In response he spread his legs even wider and scooted down so I
could get at his balls better.  The kid was a natural at getting
serviced, that was for sure, and I could only imagine that
whatever those girls had tried that hadn't done the trick, they
must not have been trying very hard.

I had grabbed his dick with my fist as I did ball duty, so he
wouldn't grab it and finish himself off in my hair.  Now I
started licking his dick up and down like a lollipop, licking his
slit with my tongue all the way out of my head so he could watch
and really see it, sucking the tip of his dick in and squeezing
it hard and briefly and then licking up and down again.  He drew
his breath in sharply every time I drew back and ate out his slit
with my tongue stuck out.  I finally glanced up and saw his
beautiful blues fixed on the scene.

"Man, man, shit" he muttered in between gasps. "Oh, God."

I took his hard dick back into my mouth and went back to sucking
it in a deep steady rhythm.  After a few strokes I stretched my
arms around his waist and pulled his thighs together until his
hard legs were enclosing my head.  He got the idea and started
squeezing my head gently between those twin pillars of firm
muscle and soft skin, bucking his hips gently as his cock slipped
up and down my throat.  After a while his legs let go of me and
he grabbed my head in his hands instead, now fucking his hips
quite deliberately and forcefully against my face as he fucked
his cock into my throat.  

I surrendered completely to his control, relaxing my neck and
shoulders and letting his hands and his hips determine the speed
and depth and angle of his thrusts.  He started moaning low in
his throat, and he kept fucking, a little faster now as his moans
were turning to gasps and pants.  I knew he was close.  I had a
good lungfull of air and I just gave him my throat and my mouth
for the duration.  He was bucking away now, his dick swelling and
stiffening in my throat as his need built.  Soon he was ready to
shoot.

"Oh, man, watch it!"  He tried to pull my head off of his dick,
but I grabbed his hips and plunged it in to the hilt.  He
released my head and I took control again, squeezing and rocking
on his spasming cock as he shot wad after wad straight down the
chute.  He was crying out in passion, unwritten words of lust
fulfilled.  I stopped moving and held his dick gently in my
throat, my face buried again in his bush, as he stroked the back
of my head and continued to send little seminal dribbles down my
throat.  I gave his cock a sort tight squeeze with my throat and
he cried out.  I finally had to breathe, and pulled off of his
hot teen meat.


                         THE HORNY UNDERGRADUATE                          
                (Part ii)

     Meetings, memos... a busy afternoon.  Underneath it all was a
steadily beating undercurrent of lust,
the memory of those fine thighs wrapped around my head, those silky balls
pushing against my chin and that
hard throbbing cock spurting in my throat.  I wished, but hardly dared
hope, that Mike would eventually want
some more.  Even though he'd said he was as horny as hell, my experience
in such affairs didn't encourage me
to expect much of anything.  No matter how horny a guy claimed to be, when
it came to wanting more, most of
them were too shy, too wary of involvement, or too worried about missing
something better to ever bother to
try to get it twice from the same cocksucker.  No matter how good it
seemed to have been at the time.

     When I had finally released his dick, Mike had been quite
appreciative, and friendly enough in a
low-key, post-cumming way.  The direct looks from his bluer than blue eyes
were replaced by his usual
darting glance, but that was to be expected.  He'd even said:  "I wonder
how long it will take me to get
that horny again!" in a joking way, and I had said: "No matter how long or
how soon, just call me if you
want it taken care of!"  He had grinned, and asked me if I was in the
book.  Still, I didn't really expect
to hear from him soon.

     At the end of the day I left my final meeting and returned to my own
desk to find the message light
blinking.  Damn!  Probably Anne with a question about that proposal
again...no way, I was done for today!  I
put on my coat and got my stuff together, then reluctantly turned to the
phone and punched in the code. 
Might as well hear about it now.  It might not be Anne, anyway...

     "Hi, it's Mike, ... uh, I was wondering... Could you stop by my room
again after work, I uh, want to
talk something over with you.  Thanks.  Bye."

     What was this?  My heart was pounding again!  I hoped he wanted a
blow-job, not a conversation -- I
had visions of him freaking out because of what we had done, wanting to
undo it, even blaming me for the
whole thing.  After all, he was straight, and I should know better than to
trust a straight guy.  But he
didn't sound upset, just a little nervous.  I walked across campus to his
dorm in the failing fall light,
trying not to trot, trying not to break into a run over there.

     The place was hopping, quite different from the early afternoon, when
the halls were empty and
Mike's room quiet.  Now there was a cacophony of music and tv noise; half
the doors on the hall seemed to be
open, and people were wandering up and down the hall, in and out of the
rooms.  A Domino's delivery guy was
coming down the hall towards me, scanning the room numbers, and two jocks
standing near the stairwell turned
and gave me a long, half-hostile stare as I passed.  The whole scene was
so intimidating that I almost
turned back, but I persevered, walking as casually as I could down the
corridor to Mike's door.  I knocked
on it.

     "Yea, come on in"  said Mike's voice.  I turned the handle and
entered, closing the door quickly and
hoping that the jocks  hadn't noticed my destination.

     Mike was in the armchair watching a small tv on a foot locker which
was contributing to the noise in
the hall.  He jumped up as I entered.  I tried to judge his mood and
intent.  His eyes met mine briefly and
then broke away.

     "Hi!  I thought I'd missed you.  I, um..."  He looked around the room
vaguely as if hoping for a
clue as to why he had called.  "Would you like some orange juice?"

     "I'd rather have a different kind of juice, but orange juice will do
for starts"  I replied.  I was
being bold and breezy.  Mike snorted in amusment, and I began to relax.

     "We better keep the tv on," he said, leaning over to turn it up. 
Good, he didn't want to talk after
all!  He went to a small fridge in the corner and poured two glasses of
oj.  I wanted to grab him and give
him a big hug and put my hands down his pants, but instead all I reached
for was the glass.  He had been so
forward earlier, I was watching to see how he would handle things this
time.

     "So, did you get anything done this afternoon?" I asked him.

     "Ah, not much.  Actually I fell asleep for awhile, and I just got
back from class right before I
called you."

     "Nothing like a good afternoon blow-job for getting you all ready for
a nap.  The first guy I ever
sucked off lived down the hall from me in my freshman dorm -- he always
claimed it was the best
tranquillizer in the world.  Always wanted a blow job after his afternoon
class so he could take a nap!" 
Actually, it was usually me trying to convince Jim that he needed a suck
and a nap rather than the other way
around, but Mike didn't need to know that.

     Mike smiled at my story and seemed to relax.  "Well, it worked for me
too!  I guess it didn't take
too long for me to get horny again either..."  He trailed off, looking out
the window.

     "So, is that why you called?  I was kinda hoping that's what you
wanted.  I tell you what: you talk
all you want to, and I'll just grunt, 'cause I hope my mouth will be too
full to say much!"  Mike grinned
outright at this.

     "Just a minute" he said, walking over to the door.  He placed the
palm of his hand on it briefly as
if to feel the mood of the hall, then locked it very slowly and
deliberately.  "If anybody knocks, we'll
just be still.  I don't want to try to scrabble around and get my pants
on.  You can't fake that stuff. 
People can always tell something's going on."  He seemed casual, not too
worried, but considered and
deliberate.  He must have been thinking this over.

     "However you want to handle it Mike.  It's your room."

     Mike nodded, walked back over to the chair.  He leaned over and
loosened his shoes, then repeated
his earlier move: jeans, jockeys and shoes all off in one swift motion.

     "You sure look like you've had a lot of practice at that,"  I
commented.  He blushed a little and
looked abashed.

     "Sometimes I can hardly wait to get my pants off so I can jerk-off,"
he admitted.  "Like, hell, in
this one class there are these five incredibly hot babes..."

     He was pulling on his beautiful dick as he spoke.  I positioned
myself between his legs and gently
separated his hands from IT so I could take it into my mouth.

     So different from earlier!  It was only half hard, and filled my
mouth with it's rubbery, fleshy
warmth.  It was quite funky, still smelling distinctly of our earlier sex
play.  He must have oozed quite a
bit of post-cum into his jockeys, in which sexy stickiness his cock had
been marinating all afternoon as he
contemplated the five hot babes in the row ahead of him.  I took a deep
breath, pulling air through the
fragrant pubic bush where my nose was buried.  

     My mouth worked Mike's dick, which was swelling quickly.  I sucked on
it gently, tugging on the
folds around the glans with my lips and licking the slit, where a slimy
drop of pre-cum already dwelt.  The
folds were soon gone, his rod stiff and big.  Mike sighed and slid down in
the chair as his cock slipped
past my tonsils and all the way down my throat.

     "That is so good, man."  He rubbed my head, playing his hands through
my hair, pulling my face
against his crotch.  I pulled back to draw a good breath, then went back
down on it. I set up a steady
rhythm: all the way down, pause and squeeze, all the way back up, first
slow, then fast, then real fast,
then slow again.  The pounding intensity of our first encounter was
replaced by a more comfortable but still
very potent kind of lust.  I knew the exact heft of his dick; he knew the
exact depth of my throat; we both
knew that we could satisfy each other.

     I was soon lost in the warm slide of his cock up and down my throat. 
I reached up and pulled gently
on his balls as I sucked.  I loved how big and loose they were, how they
filled my hand.  All too soon the
short breaths I was getting at the tops of my strokes were not enough, and
I had to break for a few good
deep lungfuls.  I continued to fondle his balls and lick around under the
hood of his tool as I paused. 
Looking up, I saw Mike's eyes fixed on his dick, my tongue: our eyes met,
and as always I thought he was
going to suck me right into his head, his eyes were so blue and so bright
with desire.  I settled back onto
my haunches.

     "I'll get my breath in a minute."  He nodded absently at my comment. 
Grabbing his dick by its base,
he wagged it at me, rubbing it on my face.  I engulfed it once more,
tonguing the slit and the head all
around before spearing it down as far as it could go, my lips pressed
against right up against his body.  I
rocked on it at full depth, squeezing hard, working it around a circle
deep in my throat, never pulling back
more than an inch from full depth.  I must have kept this going for more
than a minute.  Mike gasped, his
hips bucked, his hands encircled my head.

     "Jeez, that's a good move.  JEEZ, don't stop, that is GOOD, oh,
oh..."  His voice trailed off but
his hips kept gently bucking.  Then I had an idea.  I pulled back almost
all the way, until I could breath,
gave him a few hard steady strokes that really got that cock pulsing, then
drew back completely off of it. 
A string of spit lengthened as my lips parted from his rod, then finally
broke.

     "Mike, I know what you might like.  I'm going to lie flat on my back,
and I want you to fuck my
face.  Doesn't that sound like fun?"  Mike just snickered in reply as I
lay back on a pile of clothes
(clean? dirty? who cared!). 

     "You better take off your shirt too.  It'll just get in the way."  He
complied, throwing it onto the
floor beside me as he stood up, his huge dick poking straight out from his
flat young belly, looming over
me, his hands on his hips.  What a sight!

     He straddled me, then went down onto his knees, one on each side of
my chest.  He kept leaning, onto
his hands, sliding his knees down till they were almost at my waist, his
hard bouncy dick and floppy balls
pointing right at my face. I turned my head up and rolled my eyes back
until I saw his face looking down at
me.

     "Mike, that is some fucking sight, man.  I could look at that cock of
yours all day!"  He just
grinned back at me and poked his cock against my lips.  I reached around
and guided it into my mouth, gave
it a good tongue swirling, then pulled it back out and looked up at his
face again.

     "Mike, I think this is gonna be hot, so listen, man.  You gotta be
gentle and you gotta let me
breathe some.  You'd have a hard time explaining a dead guy lying in your
laundry.  And believe me, that
monster cock of yours could strangle a guy!"  Mike grinned again, and
nodded.

     "If I start to choke you just slap my butt and I'll pull out,"  he
said.  I guided it back in.

     I must have put the fear of God into him, 'cause he started out slow
and hesitant.  He was hanging
over me on his hands and knees, fucking just the top few inches or so of
his gorgeous rod into my mouth. 
This gave me a chance to tongue out his slit some more and caress the
balls hanging down almost on my chest. 
Soon enough, however, I wanted more of his dick, and raised my head to
meet his brief thrusts, taking in
most of the shaft and squeezing it hard.  Mike reared back and pulled out
all but the tip, revolving his
hips so that his knob did a little tour of my mouth.

     "Greedy aren't you?  You want more of that ol' dick, doncha?  Not
getting enough?  Aren't you afraid
you'll get choked?"

     I was making ready to reply, when a sudden fucking motion of Mike's
hips filled my throat with cock. 
Damn!  He pulled out swiftly but gently, giving me time to catch my breath
before he plunged his dick back
into my throat.  He was fucking away quite well on his own, thank you.  He
varied the rhythm from slow to
fast, sometimes grinding his hips against my chin, sometimes pulling IT
almost all the way out.  I could
sense, rather than see, the sexy way he moved his hips, maneuvering his
cock in and out of my throat.  I
tried to imagine watching his butt pump up and down, back and forth, those
perfectly dimpled ass cheeks
working as he pounded his meat into my gullet.  Damn, indeed!

     But he always gave me time to breath, and hard as he pounded, I never
had to slap his butt to make
him stop.  Not that I didn't take the chance to stroke his fine young ass,
now that it was up in the air and
available.  I had both hands all over it, squeezing those sexy cheeks,
running my fingers through his hairy
crack, caressing those perfect little dimples, feeling the muscles in his
butt move as he fucked my face.

     His ass was moving faster now, the wonderful motions of his hips were
less deliberate.  He would get
his nut soon, I could tell.  His balls were drawn up, hitting my chin with
each thrust, and his breathing
assumed that tell-tale ragged pant.  His hips fucked harder now, giving me
almost no time to breath, pushing
his cock more roughly into my throat.  I was on the point of thinking
about slapping his butt, when he gave
a low moan, plunged his dick all the way down my throat, and came.

     It was all I could do to give him time to shoot.  All too shortly I
had to pull away, to draw a
gasping breath as the tears streamed down my cheeks.  Mike made a noise
somewhere between a sigh and a
giggle, and rolled over.  I was choking on the abundant cum and saliva in
my throat, coughing as I sat up. 
Mike sprang to his feet and got me the abandoned glass of orange juice.

     "You okay?"

     "Yea, I'm fine, as soon as I can breath again!" I drew a few deep
breaths and gradually stopped
hacking.  "Whoa, that was fine!  Guess I had too much fun!"  

     Mike smiled and said: "You must like it as much as I do to go through
all this!"  I stood up, a
little unsteadily, and sat down on the bed.

     "It's not anything to go through, I could choke on my spit any day
and not even have had the
pleasure of a big hot dick down my throat."  Mike shook his head, still
laughing, and pulled his jeans on. 
He went over to his desk and sat down.  He half turned away from me as I
sighed and wiped my face with his
t-shirt.

     "I really have a lot of reading to do tonight."

     So, I was being dismissed.  And so soon.  I was a little hurt at the
abruptness, though I also had
things to get done.  Still, I couldn't let him be quite this rude.

     "Well, let me get my breath back, at least."

     Mike blushed and turned away.  "Sure, I didn't mean..." he fumbled,
staring at the keyboard of his
computer.  I decided to let it drop and get out of there.

     "I'll see you at the gym, I guess."

     "Yea, sure."  This time the coldness was unmistakable.  This was not
just post-coital, this was more
fundamental.  The horny little bastard was dropping me, I felt sure.  As I
put my coat back on and made for
the door, I made a sudden decision to pay him back.  

     I walked over to the desk and stood behind him, putting my hands on
his still bare shoulders,
rubbing his muscles.  I took his head in my hands, gently fingering his
fine dark hair, then bent over and
kissed the top of his head.  Just the sort of intimate, sentimental
gesture that a straight guy would hate. 
As I expected, he stiffened and pulled away slightly.

     "See ya," I repeated as I stepped to the door, though I never
expected to again.  He made no reply.

    ************************************************************  
     The week-end was busy and too soon finished.  On Monday I had a lunch
date with a colleague, so I
went to the gym at mid-morning.  This suited me, for it meant that I
wouldn't have to see Mike.  A good hard
work-out, without the distractions of Mike's baby blues and his insistent
chatter.  I worked harder and
longer than usual, and I was sweaty and hurting as I went down to the
locker room.

     The spray of hot water was a balm.  I stood under it, relaxing but
still breathing hard.  Glancing
up, who should I see but Mike, stepping under the adjacent showerhead.  I
was startled, and met his eyes
inquiringly.  He smiled.

     "I saw you heading down here as I came in, so I came on down too. 
Did you have a good week-end?" 
He was grinning, leering almost.  I couldn't help checking out his rod: it
was more than half hard, standing
up and grinning up at me also.  Gone was the coldness and abrupt reserve
of Friday.  I was at a loss.  The
haughty and offended speech I had been composing for our next meeting
seemed quite inappropriate under the
circumstances, and yet I wasn't quite ready to forgive him yet.  I just
shrugged in answer to his question.

     "Look, I was a dick head, I guess, but I've got two papers due this
week and it's only a few weeks
till exams.  I really did work hard all week-end."  As he said this he
stood under the spray of water, idly
(or not?) holding his mostly hard dick and his balls in one hand and
lolling them around.  "And I'm still as
horny as hell."

     Without a word I went to my knees and took his cock all the way down.
 I held it there, squeezing it
softly, pulling on his ballsac.  It was just my way of accepting his
apology.

     Mike grunted softly and said "I think it's okay, nobody's around. 
It's not quite lunch time yet."  
I nodded as well as I could with my throat full of dick, and started
sucking.  Mike put his hands on my
shoulders and maneuvered us around so that we were out of the shower's
spray.

     Back and forth, up and down: the rhythm soon held us both.  Mike
started pumping his hips, one hand
resting gently on the back of my head, the other on my shoulder.  He
spread his legs and pulled me between
them, bending his knees slightly and pumping his hips.  I still held his
balls in one hand, steadying myself
with the other against the shower room wall.  Mike started pumping faster.
 I knew I had to let him get his
nut and shoot as soon as possible; we didn't dare play for too long in the
showers with the lunch time crowd
on the way.  His fucking motion quickened as he pulled my head closer to
his crotch.  He was already
starting the breathy count down to climax.

     Inspired by a sudden mischeveous turn, I extended a finger of the
hand holding his balls in between
his legs.  With his legs spread and his knees bent, the angle was perfect:
quick as lightening, I inserted
the finger right into his butt hole.  The gyrations of his hips pushed it
further in; he tightened a little,
then relaxed and let me push it on in.  I extended a second finger and
worked it up into his butt as well,
although it was almost too tight a fit for it to enter.  It was warm and
soft in there.  His butt tightened
even more at the second digit's entry, and I think he would have done or
said something to stop me, except
that I had timed it too well.  He was gasping now, his fucking quick and
hard, his breath ragged.  I worked
both fingers in as deep and as hard as I could just as his cock throbbed
and swelled within my mouth and I
knew it was time.

     "AAGH, aaaaaggghhh."  Mike was screaming out loud, jerking his hips,
jamming my face down on his rod
with both hands and staggering against the wall.  His cries were echoing
like bedlam in the concrete
enclosure; anyone in the locker room would have thought that a murder was
in progress.  We were back under
the spray now, hot water shooting all over us as we broke apart.  Mike
leaned on the wall.  I rolled out of
the torrent and stumbled to my feet.

     "Man, what,... man, man... wow!"  He was still panting, one hand
rubbing his ass crack, one hand
against the wall.  "That was the hottest I've ever cum, man!  I've never
felt anything like it!  Jesus
Christ, I read about that... I didn't believe it till now!"

     "Well, it's true baby, and now you've had the proof."  

     It suddenly occurred to me that, for the first time since we had left
the gym so innocently the day
before, we were both naked together.  My own cock was hard and dribbling
from all this excitement.  I hadn't
even tried to complicate the situation in Mike's room with my own rod. 
You could never tell with straight
boys: sometimes they were fascinated by another guy's dick, and sometimes
they acted like just seeing a hard
cock would make them turn queer.  Right now, however, I didn't care.  It
was hard, it was in my hand, and it
was going to shoot.  I started fisting it as fast and as hard as I could. 
It was big and red and hard,
throbbing now, and getting close.

     Mike glanced down and noticed what I was doing.  He blushed redder
than he had ever blushed since
our sex play first started, turned and walked to the entrance to the
locker room.  Oh, well, I would try not
to let it bother me if he wanted to run away.  But then all of a sudden I
wasn't sure I would cum; I was
nervous about the locker room and all the noise we had been making,
nervous about this straight boy of
uncertain interest in my orgasm.  I sighed, flopping my not quite so hard
dick around in frustration.  

     Then he came back.  "The coast is still clear," he said.  He stood
under his shower and started
soaping up, running his hands over his chest and his stomach, but his
eyes, I was glad to note, rarely left
my crotch.  I started to slow my strokes so he could see clearly. 
Abruptly, Mike stepped out of his shower,
grabbed my cock, and started pumping it.

     "I guess I can return a favour, just don't expect me to do everything
you do!"  He was pulling on it
gently but firmly; his hands felt wonderful and knowledgeable.  My passion
returned with a vengeance, my
cock throbbed with renewed lust.  

     "It feels like you've done this before."

     "I've never touched another guy's dick in my life!"  He paused at his
own vehemance.  "I guess I am
sort of an expert at jerking off, though"  he admitted.

     "That's all I meant,"  I said, grinning.  I looked up into his face. 
It suddenly seemed quite
handsome to me.  Surely that mouth could not be too wide, those ears too
big.  Surely he was the most
beautiful boy at the gym!  His eyes met mine as he continued steadily
pumping my dick, but for once they
didn't dart away.  I was lost deep in those deep blue true blue baby blues
as voices and locker doors
sounded from the locker room, still being drawn into them as the cum
blasted out of my cock, all over Mike's
stomach and the locker room floor.