Date: Wed, 24 Jun 2009 12:19:00 -0700 (PDT)
From: Kenneth Rodman <rod888man@yahoo.com>
Subject: Providence Design and Art School

The following story is entirely ficticious and not meant for minors, so if
you are not an adult, do not continue.

   My freshman was already in the room, unpacked and reading the Bible,
when I arrived. He helped me hang stuff up and we chatted about ourselves.
The school has a civilized tradition of rooming incoming freshmen with a
sophomore to help getting him/her acclimated. His name was Kurt Mueller and
he was a nice looking boy (hell, he was gorgeous!) about 5' 10", l70#, ash
blonde with a pretty face and nicely filled out. Seems he was brought up in
a strict, very religious (father a deacon in the local Lutheran church)
household, an only child. His hometown was a little burg, Galena, IL, and
his father owned a prosperous hardware store. He had won all sorts of art
competitions throughout the state and had been recruited to PDAS and
offered a scholarship even though financially he didn't need it. Having
gotten organized and unpacked we returned to the only other room, a small
study/sitting area, and found an invitation to the Annual PDAS Fall Mixer.
The cost was ten bucks per person, the attire was toga (one sheet and the
only other item of clothing allowed would be a belt of sorts), keg beer
free and a DJ who would play until the beer ran out or 2AM, whichever came
first. Kurt announced he would pass - didn't drink and had very rudimentary
dance experience. I explained that it was important to get introduced to
his classmates and that he would be much more comfortable in school after
the party. So we went to the local burger joint for dinner, the dorm
cafeteria was not open until tomorrow, I gave him a tour of the campus and
kept badgering him about the mixer. By the time we got back to the room I
had him convinced so we pulled a couple of sheets out of the closet, I had
saved a couple of old neckties we could use for belts, and we proceeded to
toga up. He got undressed with his back to me and insisted on wearing his
boxers under his toga, which was a good sign: he was not above breaking
some rules anyway. I was disappointed in not getting a look at his package,
but it would be a long year and even though he turned me on bigtime,
patience was all I could call on for now. But my dick was stirring just
thinking about what he looked like under his sheet.

   The entrance to the party had a desk where we paid our ten dollars and
on the table was a large bowl of condoms. Kurt's eyes literally popped open
when he looked from the condom tothe source of the music. Over the DJ was a
banner: WELCOME Perverted Drunken Art Students! I wondered how the faculty
would enjoy PDAS in that format, but this was not a gettogether for
teachers, just students. The music was loud, the beer was flowing, the kids
were dancing and everybody seemed to be having a good time. A rather plain
girl plucked Kurt's toga and dragged him over to the keg and explained she
didn't know how to work it. When next seen, he was carrying a beer for her
and one for him. By midnight things were getting nicely raucus. Ken was
dancing with a beer in his hand and a shiteating grin a mile wide. A lot of
the togas had come off, most off the belts were thrown in the corner, guys
were dancing with girls, girls were dancing with girls, guys were dancing
with guys and the combination of the condom bowl contents being
considerably depleted and the sounds coming out of some of the side rooms
resembling sound tracks from porn flicks made one think a full time orgy
was in progress. It wasn't much later when I realized I had to get Kurt out
of there while he could still walk. He was thoroughly trashed and far too
big to carry back to our room So I literally dragged him out. He still had
his toga and belt on, I had my toga but the tie had gotten lost in the
melee. And the loose toga felt good because it was a hot, sultry 90 degree
september night. A full moon was giving enought light to read a newspaper
by which made our stumbling progress possible. In the parking lot, a guy
was leaning back against an SUV while his buddy knelt before him noisily
sucking his cock. Kurt stopped dead in his tracks, mouth hanging open and
stared. The sucker and suckee didn't apparently mind the audience and kept
at it full bore. A very obvious tent in Kurt's pants indicated he was
enjoying the panorama.  Then the suckee pulled his member out and proceeded
to squirt a major load all over the sucker's face, causing both to laugh
uproariously. I was finally able to pry a tottering Kurt away from the
scene but didn't get far before he announced he needed to find a tree. We
did, he leaned up against it, turned his back to me, fumbled his dick out
and proceeded to water the tree in sufficient quantity to keep the tree
happy for a good while. Getting upstairs to the room was not an easy task
and when we got there, Kurt tumbled on his bed, out like the proverbial
light. The room was hotter than the hinges of hell and it would have been
cruel to leave the kid to fry in his toga, so I removed his tie, unwrapped
the toga and slid his boxers off. His poor balls were undoubtedly severely
overheated, so as a good roommate should, I lifted his cock from them and
laid it tenderly on his belly. Wow! This kid had a heroic wanger!

   Sleep was all but impossible: the bright moon and the continued high
temperature made for lousy sleeping weather. My naked, beautiful roomie two
feet away didn't help either. I kept dozing, waking, longing, looking,
dozing etc for hours. Then Kurt's moaning brought me wide awake. He was
squirming, lying on his back and his cock was fully, beautifully,
monstrously hard. OMG, it had to be at least a nine incher. And then it
erupted. Thick jets of cream, arcing at least two feet in the air to land
on his belly and chest. One after the other, at least ten big shots. Kurt
let out a big sigh, rolled over onto his stomach and began to quietly
snore. Needless to say, that left me with a raging woody and I went next
door to the john, hoping a pee would settle it down. It didn't.

   Sunday morning, I woke to find the kid on his knees by his bed. The
faint smell of chlorine was still in the air. I asked what he was doing and
he said, "Trying to remove the Devil from my soul."

   "Why would you need to do that?" I asked.

   "Because he was with me last night!"

   "Why would you think that?" I said.

   "Because he made my penis leak. It happens once or twice a week and it's
a sure sign the Devil visited."

   "You had a wet dream. A perfectly normal, natural thing! Who gave you
the idea it had anything to do with evil?"

   "That's how my mother explained it and she said it meant my soul was
infected and only prayer could cleanse me."

   "The way PDAS works, as you see, is that every freshman has an automatic
"bigger brother". Big Brother says, we had a busy night and we need a
shower and breakfast, over which I will give you a 101 level course in The
Birds and The Bees, after which we will return here for a laboratory
class."

   "So, as I understand it, you have never had an orgasm in the conscious
state, and as you now understand it, masturbation is not a sin, your father
almost certainly does it as does every other normal, healthy male. But most
important are the positive benefits of ejaculation: free, safe extreme
pleasure which is a renewable resource. It is healthy for your prostate to
turn over its fluid, as nature has shown you by its use of wet dreams. And
finally, it is sometimes a necessary means to temporarily relieve intrusive
erections and sexual fantasy when your mind needs to be employed with
homework, exam taking and other mandatory activities.  "OK, for this
laboratory session in Human Sexuality 101, we must go to class naked. Now,
stretch out on the bed and I'll show you the magic unloading trick. So, I
see you have brought the necessary equipment to the lab.", Matt said,
eyeing Kurt's erection and his own matching 8 inches of rock hard manmeat.

'This spot, under the head of the penis where it meets the shaft is the
most sensitive area, usually. This gentle circular motion, or rolling the
skin between your fingers feels awfully good. Ah, it must, because you're
producing precum already!"

   "What's "precum". That slippery stuff that drips out when I've been hard
for awhile?"

   "Yup, and it's tasty." said Matt, and he wiped off a few drops with the
tip of his finger and licked it with a wide grin. "Oh, yeah, you taste
good! Try it, you'll like it." Kurt hesitantly did, and apparently liked
it a lot because he sampled twice more. "This is another good place, right
behind the head, in the groove between the head and the shaft." said Matt
as he slowly traced the groove with a wet finger. "And the whole head of
the cock is very sensitive by itself." and he stroked that too. "But, the
old standby is just stroking the whole animal" and Matt began a full cock
stroking with one hand and then began rolling Kurts balls in his nutsac
with the other. "Tell me how it feels."

   "Just, ah, exquisite! I've never felt anything like... Oh, but, but,
something's, oh I feel like somebody's blowing up a balloon inside, and,
and it's going to pop. It's getting so tight! So, so. OH!"

   KZZZZZAAAP! The boy felt a cramp like sensation behind and deep to his
testicles. A delicious brief hard contraction, followed by a feeling of a
solid object travelling outward from the root of his cock, burning it's way
toward the glans, with a fnal indescribably beautiful sensation as the
first load of boycum passed the crooked pathway through the tip .  And a
half dozen encores followed.  OH! OH! OOOOOH. Oh, Oh, ooooooooooh GOD!

   Matt kept a firm hand on the writhing boy's member, just behind the
corona of his glans, felt every hard throb and thrilled to watch stream
after sream of thick, creamy boycum arc through the air. Finally, with just
a thin stream of thin, "dishwater" cum trailing down Kurt's cock, Matt
leaned forward and licked from root to tip, enjoying the sweet taste. Kurt,
finally came back to earth, openend his eyes and said, "Oh, Matt, that was
a real glimpse of heaven! Is it like that every time? I want to do it
again.!"

   The boy was still fully tumescent, and probably capable of another
orgasm, but Matt said, "Every time is a little touch of heaven, no two are
the same, but you've shot off twice in six hours, and you could use a
rest. On the other hand, I've had this woody for the same six hours and I
need relief more than you!"

To Be Continued