Date: Tue, 6 Apr 1999 01:07:57 EDT
From: EBayBarber@aol.com
Subject: TKE, Chapter 5

Chapter 5:  Vance Is the Victor

The following weekend, if they played Wales Tales, it was without me.  Friday 
night I went to a Stones concert with Brad, a guy I'd met just this semester 
in one of my advanced math classes.  It turns out his father had something to 
do with the entertainment industry, and could get good seats to almost any 
concert at the local arena.  It also turns out that Brad wanted into MY pants 
as much as I wanted into HIS.  So when we went back to his apartment after 
the concert, we did not come up for air until Sunday afternoon.

I'm not sure about everything we did that weekend, what with all the dope and 
beer and sex.  I know I came back to the fraternity house without any pubic 
hair, and that Brad was similarly denuded.  Todd, yet another hot buddy of 
Brad's who also came to the concert with us lost ALL his hair but his 
eyebrows.  When I left Brad's apartment I felt like I had to walk bow-legged, 
my ass was so sore, and my poor little balls felt completely drained.  All in 
all it was a great weekend!

The next Friday night came.  Just after dinner I was on my way out to the 
movies with some of the guys when Vance cornered me in the stairwell.  
"Eleven o'clock, my room," he ordered.  "Be there, or be square."  At least 
that's what I thought I heard him say.  Then I realized what he had REALLY 
said was, "Be theer or be queer!"

I replied, "Can I be both?"  

Vance laughed, and squeezed my crotch as I moved by him.  "This is MINE 
tonight," he hissed at me.  "We'll see," I thought to myself, "I want to do 
YOU too."

The movie was okay.  When we got back to the house, it was not even ten, so 
we went down to the bar for a couple of beers.  I saw Jeff, one of the 
brothers with whom I had gone to the movies, looking at his watch as the hour 
grew nigh.  "Is he playing, too?" I wondered.  I certainly hoped so!  
Actually, I was not particularly surprised.  After all, it was Vance and 
JEFF'S room we were playing in.  I'd kind of wondered what Vance was going to 
do about Jeff.

Sure enough, as I nonchalantly refilled my beer and moved off to the stairs, 
I found I was following Jeff.  I got a good view of his nicely-rounded ass.  
And I mentally counted that he was wearing the requisite eight pieces of 
clothing, as I was.

Jeff looked like he could be the twin of Cameron, Ferris Bueller's friend, 
kind of tall and lanky, but with a friendly face and a mop of dark brown 
hair.  Jeff had a muscular body, rounded with a thin coat of fat.  I'd never 
seen him naked, just in a bathing suit at a championship water polo match, 
his sport.  Yum, what a nice chest!  Even his boxer-style bathing suit could 
not hide the bulge which would put a horse to shame.  I'd wondered if Vance 
and Jeff had ever "done" it, whether Vance had ever had a chance to work on 
that horse dong (I found out from Vance later that he never had.  Jeff wanted 
to keep things straight, so-to-speak, between himself and his roommate.  He 
didn't wanted any heartaches or jealousy or other problems which having an 
ex-lover as a roommate might cause.  Even all these years later Jeff and 
Vance are still good friends, although not fuck-buddies.)

I wondered idly who our fourth would be, then saw Kurt coming down the hall 
towards Vance and Jeff's room.  I wondered about that, since I knew Kurt 
didn't smoke dope; he was much too straight-laced.  Then I saw the pitcher in 
Kurt's hand, almost full of beer.  A stack of glasses was in Kurt's other 
hand.  How thoughtful!

If Randy could have been an Aryan poster boy, Kurt could have been a Marines 
spokesman.  He LOOKED like a soldier-well built, walking tall, 
angular-nothing soft about him.  His father was a general in the Air Force, 
and he'd gone to a military high school, and was on a full ROTC scholarship.  
Kurt's hair was buzz-cut, of course, light brown to set off his dark, 
piercing brown eyes.  Boy would HE be hot in a leather harness and chaps.  
But somehow I could see him more of a "boy" than a "daddy," he somehow looked 
like he needed someone to give him orders.  I volunteer!  And my first order 
would be to strip and roll over onto his back!

I was kind of surprised to see Kurt there, since I hadn't thought he was 
close to Vance.  It turns out he wasn't, particularly; he was better friends 
with Jeff.  And who says a soldier boy can't be gay?

Jeff opened the door to his and Vance's room and let Kurt and me in, then 
closed the door behind us.  Vance was there, lit joint in hand, picking out a 
couple of records from a shelf full of them.  Vance greeted us, then handed 
me the joint.  I inhaled and handed it to Jeff, who also partook.  Kurt, in 
the meantime, separated the glasses and poured us each a beer.

After taking a few sips and hits, and making small talk, Vance said, "Let's 
get started with the 'Tales game."  We took seats, Jeff next to me on the 
edge of the bottom bunk, Kurt in the lounge chair, and Vance in a chair he 
pulled over from one of the desks.  Holding up his beer, Vance said, "I'm 
princing in.  But the beer is only for thirst, not for chirping."

We all princed in, and Vance started the first round, which he quickly lost 
when he, apparently, got tongue-tied.  Off came one shoe.  The four of us 
each lost one round, then Vance lost yet again.  Now he was down three 
articles of clothing to our one each.  Hmm.  Was he surreptitiously trying to 
lose?  Whose pants did he want to get into?  Did I WANT him to lose?  Or did 
I want MY chance at Jeff's giant organ?

We played a few more rounds, all losing about evenly, then Vance lit another 
joint.  We took the time to smoke it and have some more beer.  We also took 
turns going to the bathroom, better NOW, when we were just shoe-less (well, 
Vance was missing his socks, also), then when we were more indecent.

Finally everyone was back from peeing and we got started playing again.  
Vance lost his shirt-god was his chest gorgeous, built up from all the 
exercise and gymnastics he did.  I lost a sock, Kurt lost both of his, then 
Vance lost his belt.  Now he was down to just pants and underwear.  Kurt had 
on his shirt and belt also.  I had on one sock, and Jeff was in first place 
with everything on but his shoes.

There was a knock on the door.  Startled, Vance called out, "Who's there?"

Randy's voice called back, "It's Randy.  Let me in.  I'm horny and I know 
you're playing."

Vance opened the door and let Randy in.  Among Randy's worst habits was that 
he was always late.  His worst habit was probably that he had a big mouth.  
"Why didn't you SHOUT that you were horny?" Jeff asked, sarcastically.

Randy said he was sorry, but that he WAS really horny.  We then had to decide 
what to do with him, since we had already started playing and were by no 
means going to start again.

Finally we decided that Randy should take off an "average" number of clothes, 
"plus one," I insisted.  "Why?" ask Randy.  That one was easy-"For not 
knowing!" the four of us said, in unison.  Not knowing the answer to 
something was ALWAYS a reason for losing at Wales Tales!  So we did the math, 
and Randy took off his shoes and socks, then his shirt.  HIS chest looked 
good enough to eat, also!  Too bad it was Vance's turn to lose, or make that, 
win.  But I decided I wasn't going to make it easy for him; better he should 
sweat a little.

Vance lit up a joint, to let Randy catch up.  He smoked most of that one, so 
Vance lit yet ANOTHER joint.  This one we all shared (all but Kurt, who was 
contentedly getting drunk on the rest of the beer, which the rest of us 
mostly ignored.)  Finally Randy announced he was ready by "princing in," so 
we started the game again.

I decided I wanted to give Vance a run for his money, let him lose THIS time 
but make it close.  So I sort of controlled the with head fakes, rapid-fire 
calling, and even losing on occasion.  In the next five turns, I lost twice 
and Kurt, Jeff and Randy each lost once.  

Kurt took off his shirt, I I nearly swooned.  Hours of working out and 
soldiering gave him arms and chest cut sharp enough to, well, to lick (I like 
licking muscles, running my tongue along the sharp cut lines of bulging 
biceps and six-pack chests.  Even straight Randy couldn't help but comment on 
how built Kurt was.

I was also minus my shirt, but as I'm only "good" looking (so I've been 
told), but not "magnificent," my stripping did not merit comment, other than 
a "Ha, he's catching up" from Randy.  Randy, himself lost his belt, and 
started looking a little worried.  Only Jeff looked smug, he still had a long 
way to go 'til he'd be naked.  "Time to change that," I thought to myself.

Vance, Randy, and Kurt must have had the same idea, that Jeff should be 
attacked, since they went after him with a vengeance.  Jeff lost twice in 
succession.  He stood up to take off his shirt, making a production of it.  
Jeff must have been a swimmer in his youth; his chest had the puffed 
appearance of overworked lungs.  Circles of brown hair surrounded large tits, 
and a patch of hair surrounded his belly button and downward, disappearing 
into pants pulled tight over narrow hips.

Then Vance lost.  He had to stand up, also, to take off his pants.  Everyone 
watch with rapt attention, me because I'd never seen him naked (if anyone had 
looked at ME they would have seen a large bulge in my pants as my cock 
strained to get free).  Vance was wearing red and white-striped bikini 
underwear.  I noticed a wet spot which the coloring could hardly conceal; 
evidently Vance was leaking in anticipation of the fun ahead.

Kurt and I each lost, and took off our belts.  Randy lost, and stripped out 
of his jeans.  He was wearing boxers.  We could not help but comment onto the 
little puppy dogs patterned across the silk.  Randy rubbed his crotch and 
retorted, "There's a BIG hotdog in here, waiting for someone to chow down on."

And then it was Vance who was going to be "chowing down" on Randy-and the 
rest of us-as he chirped out of turn.  Vance stripped his underwear.  Sure 
enough, a cute little cock pointed upward and outward.  His huge balls made 
his 4-1/2 inches look even smaller.  I'll take huge balls and a small cock 
anytime; no size queen am I!

Jeff lost his belt after Kurt gave him a head fake.  Jeff got back at Kurt 
with rapid-fire calling; now Kurt was down to his undies.  Randy lost his 
boxers, but wasn't unhappy since he hadn't lost it all.  Then I lost my 
pants, and stripped down to my own bright red boxers.  Kurt lost, and almost 
stood at attention as he stripped naked.

I had not seen Kurt naked close up.  It was worth the wait!  Kurt's cock and 
balls could have been a model for an anatomy textbook; perfect mushroom head, 
two low-hanging balls, plump and juicy looking and covered by light downy 
hair.  Even Kurt's flat belly could have been a model for a Leonardo da Vinci 
statue.

Jeff lost his pants, and stripped to boxers.  Of course he wore boxers, they 
didn't MAKE bikini underwear large enough to contain that bulge!  The fly was 
open, revealing a hint of Jeff's one-eyed monster.  I guess he was proud of 
it-I would be-he didn't bother to close his fly.

I guess I was concentrating too hard on Jeff, and the three gorgeous naked 
men surrounding me; I quickly lost the next round, thereby ending the game.  
Everyone commented on my shaved pubes (I had trimmed them since the last 
weekend, so I was still hairless.)  My reply was, "Well, sometimes you have 
to give a blow job, and sometimes you lose your hair.  And I'll tell you, 
once you get a blow job when you're shaved, you'll never grow hair again!"

Jeff signaled that he was ready for his blow job by standing up and taking 
off his boxers.  Seven inches of SOFT meat hung above two hen's egg-sized 
balls.  A thatch of thick hair covered everything.  I like shaving and I like 
to lick smooth nuts, so I wondered to myself how I could do both to Jeff.  I 
did get my chance, a few months later, but that's a different story.

I wondered whether Jeff was a "shower" or a "grower."  I also wondered how 
Vance was going to take care of Jeff's giant organ.  Yes Jeff was a grower, 
but I needn't have worried that Vance couldn't handle him.  Vance got down on 
his knees between Jeff's knees, and got started.

Jeff was cut, but his doctor had left a generous ring of skin.  Vance took 
hold of Jeff's cock with one hand and carefully skinned back the foreskin 
with the other.  He then started licking the sensitive skin around the glans, 
and blowing and licking the tip.  The monster awoke!  Ten inches of man-meat 
were soon looking Vance in the mouth.

I watched Vance's technique.  First he sucked in around two inches of Jeff's 
cock, then pulled out until just the barest tip was still in his mouth.  Then 
the two inches, then none.  After a minute or so, Vance's mouth had relaxed 
and he sucked in four inches of Jeff's giant tool.  Then he let out two 
inches, then back to four inches down his throat.  After a minute or two of 
THAT he opened his throat yet wider and sucked down six inches.

I found out later that Vance had been a trumpet player, so he could breath 
through his nose and moouth and bulge his cheeks and somehow breath around 
the large obstruction in his throat.  Soon eight inches of Jeff's cock were 
down Vance's throat.  Vance finally only had room for one of his hands on 
Jeff's cock, so he started playing with Jeff's balls with the other.  They 
would have been the FIRST thing I'd have played with!

Jeff's ten inches were soon buried down Vance's throat.  Even straight-laced 
Kurt was moved to comment on Vance's performance.  Vance only grinned at the 
admiration, well as much as one can grin with ten inches of cock down one's 
throat.  Vance started sucking harder, and pulling out most of Jeff's cock 
before inhaling it down to thr root again.  He quickened his pace and started 
playing harder with Jeff's balls-ouch!  Jeff didn't seem to mind, indeed, he 
seemed to relish the hard play.

Jeff''s balls soon tightened in Vance's hand.  I could see Vance's cheeks 
kind of bulge as Jeff's organ thickened and he spew sperm down Vance's 
throat.  Vance held on, his nose buried in Jeff's thatch as Jeff came.  All 
good things must come to an end, and Vance slowly pulled Jeff's cock from his 
mouth.  He took the time to clean off the tip of Jeff's cock.  What a nice, 
neat boy!

My cock was at attention, ready for Vance's ministrations.  Vance didn't 
disappoint me; he made love to my cock and balls.  Vance must have somehow 
sensed that I liked having my balls worked on, he alternated between licking 
and lapping them and licking the pre-cum which ran from the tip of my cock.  
He engulfed my cock-after sucking on ten inches my cock was hardly a snack 
for his stretched jaws.  

But Vance did not play favorites; he lavished as much attention or more on my 
modest organ as he had on Jeff's giant cock.  He fondled my ass, running one 
finger up and down the crack, and even getting the first joint of his middle 
finger between my lips.  I found out later that it was ME to whom Vance had 
most wanted to lose.

Vance worked on my cock as he played with and tugged my balls.  When I did 
not complain, he tugged some more, kneading my balls between his fingers.  
Mere mortals would have objected, or at least complained; I was in heaven and 
my cock dripped pre-cum in appreciation.

Vance sucked my cock down to its base; his nose would have been buried in my 
pubes had I not shaved my crotch smooth.  Vance pulled his head up, leaving 
but the tip of my cock between his lips, before sucking my cock back down his 
throat.  Again and again he teased and licked and sucked on my turgid organ.  
And all the while he worked on my swollen nuts.

At last I gave a cry.  My cock swelled, my balls pulled up tight, and I came. 
 And came.  And Vance drank and drank of my man-juice spurting down his 
throat.  (Did I really write that last sentence?  I'm beginning to sound like 
a porn writer.)

I controlled my orgasm, cumming just as fast as Vance could swallow.  Nary a 
drop of my precious seed did he spill.  At last I was done.  Vance took hold 
of my cock and began licking the tip, much as one would clean the last bits 
of ice cream from the stick.  Vance finished, then sat there holding my organ 
and looking at it.  He sighed, as if he couldn't believe he had at last come 
to the end of his dessert.  

Randy gave some rumblings about not having all day.  Kurt, whose turn to get 
blown was next, was much too polite to say anything.  Instead, he sat there, 
half hard, the MARINE waiting to have his cock sucked.  I get hard just 
thinking back on that image.

Kurt spread his legs; no stranger was HE to getting a blow job.  Kurt knelt 
between his legs and sat there admiring a perfect male organ before getting 
to work.  Or play, depending on how one looks at it.  

And play this skin flute he did.  Kurt wasn't huge, maybe 6-1/2 inches long, 
perfectly straight and jutting out and up over a low-hanging sac.  A well-cut 
foreskin surrounded a mushroom head and a perfectly-centered piss hole.  Not 
even a vein marred the surface of Kurt's hairless penis.  Kurt's balls hung 
evenly from what looked like a velvety-down covered satin bag.  Oh for MY 
tongue to be tasting those orbs!

Vance moved first to lick Kurt's balls.  Evidently Kurt wasn't a ball-man; 
his cock hardly stirred as Vance sucked first one, then the other, ball into 
his mouth.  Vance was enjoying himself, however, and kept sucking on Kurt's 
balls until Kurt gave an impatient wiggle of his hips, swinging his 
mostly-soft cock across Vance's face.

So Vance reluctantly gave up his treat and started sucking on Kurt's cock.  
Kurt's cock quickly rose to attention when sucked on.  Vance paid particular 
attention to the head, skinning back the foreskin, running just the tip of 
his tongue around the sensitive skin behind the glans.  A scant drop of 
pre-cum appeared; no self-lubricator was Kurt.

With one hand on Kurt's cock, Vance moved his other hand to touch and caress 
Kurt's perfect abs and up his chest.  Kurt took hold of Vance's wrist and 
moved it off his chest, finally setting it down on his knee.  A few moments 
later, with Kurt's cock buried down his throat, Vance moved BOTH hands around 
Kurt's waist, to pull his cock deeper and to hold and knead Kurt's firm 
buttocks.  Again Kurt made his intentions clear by taking hold of Vance's 
wrists and moving them off his ass and onto his thighs.  Kurt's position 
became clearer:  "My cock and balls are 'in bounds.'  Everything else is 'out 
of bounds.'"  To enjoy a blow job was okay; to enjoy the caresses of another 
man would prove one was queer.

So Vance contented himself with sucking on Kurt's cock.  I made my mind up, 
then and there, that I would break through Kurt's shell, that I would have 
the opportunity to enjoy MYSELF some day by rubbing Kurt's chest, licking his 
perfect tits, running my tongue along each cut of his arms, his chest, his 
belly, filling up his bowels with my seed.  I could feel Kurt almost reading 
my mind; he glanced at me watching him getting sucked, looking almost defiant 
as if to say, "I can get pleasure from my body, but YOU, a MAN, never will."  
How wrong he was; I could tell that Vance was enjoying himself even as he 
could only access Kurt's cock and balls.

Kurt came pretty quickly and almost uneventfully.  One minute Vance was 
sucking on his cock, the next minute Vance was swallowing, then once again 
cleaning the tip of a cock.  Not a sound had Kurt made as he came; almost 
like he willed himself-good soldier that he was-not to let down his guard by 
showing emotion.  Pity.

Randy turned around from where he was standing, looking at Vance's record 
collection.  "It's about time," he grumbled as he sat down and prepared to be 
done.

Tonight was a repeat of the last time I saw Randy get a blow job.  Vance had 
no trouble swallowing Randy's cock down to the root.  Randy rested his hands 
on Vance's shoulders, and proceeded to fuck Vance's mouth.  Vance didn't 
mind; I suspected he'd rather being doing the work, but if Randy insisted….  
In and out, rhythmically, Randy worked his cock in Vance's mouth.  He didn't 
even pause to get the enjoyment of Vance's tongue on the tip and sensitive 
head.  Don't these straight boys know ANYTHING about getting a blow job?

Randy's stamina was likewise as short as last time.  Hardly had he ordered, 
"Suck it" a dozen times, like, what else was Vance going to do? then he was 
coming.  He had the decency to shout, "I'm coming," but not the decency to 
leave his cock where it had been, buried down Vance's throat.  

He pulled back as he came.  The first spurt got Vance smack in the nose and 
cheeks.  By the second spurt Vance had gotten Randy's cock back into his 
mouth and a major mess was averted.  A third spurt and Randy was done.  Vance 
held on and quickly licked Randy's cock clean, and that was that.

Vance got up and got out a wash cloth.  It looked suspiciously like a trick 
towel.  Vance wiped Randy's cum off his face, then set the cloth down.  
Somehow I thought that that towel might be riding Vance's nose as he got to 
sleep tonight.  Vance admitted to me later how prescient I was.

Vance lit up another joint, and we sat around, naked, smoking, mellowing out, 
basking in the afterglow, as they say.  All but Kurt, who was already 
starting to get dressed.  The rest of us stood up, too.  Jeff grabbed a towel 
and wrapped it around his waist, "Shower time," he proclaimed.  I thought it 
might be too forward of me to offer to join him, so I reluctantly pulled on 
my underwear and pants.  

Vance, in the meantime, stayed naked and picked up his clothes, depositing 
them in the basket in his closet, putting his shoes away, emptying out his 
pants pockets.  I guess HE wasn't shy.  Or else he was trying to signal me to 
stay behind, after the others had left, after Jeff had gone to take his 
shower.  I must have been really stoned, however, since I missed the offer 
completely.  Oh, well, that wasn't the only offer Vance made me.

Kurt was dressed first, shoes neatly tied, shirt perfectly assembled, the 
model of decorum.  Even his hair was perfectly neat, but then, with a 
buzz-cut it's hard to look unkempt.  He left quickly, as though not wanting 
to be seen leaving with the rest of us.  Heaven forbid being seen coming from 
a room full of recently-naked, or in Vance's case, still-naked, men.  Randy 
and I said our goodnights and both left, he heading one way down the hall 
toward his room, and me heading in the other.  Jeff left for the shower and 
Vance, still naked, stayed in his room, cleaning up.  Yet another successful 
weekend evening had come to an end.