The Sublime Cock
fraternityrow:

when bottoms top :)

fraternityrow:

when bottoms top :)

21A:  I AM JOE’S DICK…MEETING THE INCUBUS

I got up very early the next morning and was in a coffee shop looking over my notes by 6:30 to make sure I didn’t whiff on an exam that ought to give me my one sure A. It’s not that Poli Sci 451 (offered every other year) was a sop course by any means - its reputation among department majors was actually the opposite - but let’s face it,  Mach App, as ‘Machiavelli Applied’ was called by the handful of political ethics geeks in the class, was so far up my alley that I could have been teaching it. 

The basic course concept was a bi-weekly seat-of-the-pants ‘What Would Niccolò Do” discussion of several fresh and still emerging crises from that day’s New York Times or, less often, the Post-Dispatch. So brushing up on ‘The Prince’ over a frothy latté before knocking this one out of the park was a mere formality. I liked what I had learned the day before about how Jack ritually spent part of his last hour before every test (jacking off), but I was frankly concerned that I couldn’t afford to “waste” that semen just now. It did seem to be in increasing demand just then.

Besides, I didn’t need that kind of relaxation before killing my Mach App exam.  I routinely  worked out the same kinds of solutions to knotty problems closer to home while I was sleeping. By way of example, I had fallen asleep the night before, after having been well and truly fucked in the ass, thinking about Jack’s text comment “we’ll do our thing(s) whether u do tex or not.” Mostly I was thinking about what he had said because of how much I liked that ‘(s)’ appended to Jack’s ‘thing’ - not trying to solve anything. But when I woke up I had a pretty good idea of why Jack had been trying to get me fucked in the ass by Tex before (I assumed) Jack would be fucking me in the ass (per my request and his stated desire) later that week. 

Jack, like the Prince, was not ‘ruthless’ but eminently practical, and relentlessly so. As it turned out, my waking idea was partly right, although there was both more and less to my notion of eminent practicality/realism. I did recognize, over my latté that Tuesday morning, the hubris in believing that I knew what ‘thing(s) ’ Jack might be interested in doing together even though he had made it abundantly clear that at least some of them involved Jack’s hard cock. 

For starters, I understood  that saying ‘what fucking rules?’ was not at all the same as saying, ‘whatever YOU want to do Joe.’  True to form, as soon as I had thought about Jack’s male mail, my phone pinged. It was almost unnerving how hard-wired to me Jack seemed to be via long distance.

••••••••

Jack:  rise n shine buttfucker

Me:  been up 4 hrs, ‘sup?

Jack:  u giving new meaning to pulling an all-niter

which btw I’m not knocking - much better use of ur time 

Me:   as hard as it makes me to hear from u @ 7am, ive got exam in 1 hr

Jack:  oh ok send male mail

Me:  that actually was funny…but sorry to disappoint Im not spendng my hr whacking off

Jack:  bummer

Me:  so sumthng on ur mind?

Jack:  said it in my opener
wanted to congratulate u on seismic fuck last nite - hope it went down as A-1 as I’m sure it did

Me:  nice try

Jack:  u think I’m fishing?  

Me:  I know ur fishing

Jack:  whatever, but i’m not going to argue w/ u abt sumthng we both know happened

Me:  haha think what u want

Jack:  last night I’m home studying 4 org chem2 - oh its abt 9:25 pm & I start feeling pressure in my ass like sum1 with a big cobra dick is trying to do me
9:33 I feel knob inside, 9:36ish big cock engaged 

 I nearly had a fucking orgasm w/o touching my dick - approx 9:39 pm

940 or so & its like I’m being slow fucked & good - I felt like Linda Fucking  Blair

abt 955 I give in - 2 strokes & boom my cock goes off like a cannon

Jack:  how’m I doing? verbatim?

Me:  it’s 720 am & I’m sitting in a coffee shop w/a boner, so thx for that

& I’m glad to hear ur having wet dreams again

Jack: LOL - 10:11 this long slow perfect assfucking finally ended - felt like dude exploded n MY ass

& it surprised me b/c I didnt know til then that tex was barebacking u

Jack: tip o’my hat to u 4 that badass move

just me & org chem last nite but I’ve never been fucked better - almost never

so yeah I know

Me:  are u sayin u’ve been fuckd n the ass b4??

Jack:  what u think ur the only one?

Me:  but I thought u are 160% top?? 

Jack:  I am bt Im also about 140% bottom

Me:  u never told me

Jack: u never asked me - I ask u shit all the time, u still dont tell me, but I do ask

Jack:  and my guess is you’ll be trying to hook up w/ the bellhop again today 

Me:  how do u know that? I don’t even know that

[[Although I had grabbed a couple of condoms and a travel-size tube of lube as I left the apartment that morning - just in case - at that moment the only person I was thinking about fucking in the ass was my identical twin. That was a thought I hadn’t had in nearly five years, but extrapolating that theoretical possibility from the surprising news that Jack had bottomed for other guys made my cock wake up for real. I was pretty sure my knees would have buckled if I had been standing up.]]

Jack:  don’t know it like I know abt ur sublime fuck last nite, so my guess is I only “know” if its a big deal to u

but I do know 1st few times I got fucked by a guy who wdnt flip I found sum guy I cd fuck ASAP  & I know ur window of opp w/ ur hot new friend will close by abt dark thirty today, so…

Me:  can I fuck you? I mean what does no rules mean?

Jack:  no rules means no rules, so we’ll see what happens ok? we’ll talk…but my seat of the ass thought is that if u can get it up you’re probably fucking me 

Me: Ok will u call me aftr ur exam? texts not getting it done 4 me 

Jack:  Sure, probly after 1 pm - u thinking phone sex?

Me: Nope - just want to hear ur voice when u tell me again what no rules means 

btw haven’t decided if I’m going to fuck that kid again or not - when i agreed to meet him after my exam my plan was to tell him adios…

Jack:  bro if ur mtg him uve alrdy decided to fuck him, bt whatevr

I say go 4 it

Me:  Im abt to b late - love u

Jack: like a naughty brother  ; )

•••••••

I scrambled my ass (and my sprained ankle) over to Mach App just in time - and with no time to get into my ‘exam mode,’ let alone unpack any of what Jack had said. How Jack knew Tex’s cock had been up my ass, I had no idea, but it did seem like he had been in the right ballpark when he had been putting very specific times - times he couldn’t have possibly known - to what had been happening the previous night 700 miles away  from him. Fuck, Jack knew more about it than I did.

And other guys had been fucking Jack’s sweet asshole? Since when? And I could fuck him too?? That blew me away even more than his choreographed account of my own grand opening. So it’s no understatement when I say I was fucking rattled when I dove - no, more like ‘waded sluggishly’ - into what should have been an easy A for me. Of course it wasn’t.

There were eight fucked-up scenarios to read through, put myself in the head of a certain designated  ‘character’ in each and explain how he should solve the problem consistent with Machiavelli’s guiding principles. I can only recall two of those scenarios - probably they stuck with me because they were the most ridiculous ones. All eight were based on historical events…but each had some improbable (and usually lurid) twist.

For example, the Clinton impeachment proceedings, only a years distant at the time:  Attack the problem from the point of view of Majority Leader Lott’s floor manager, whose job it was to try the case for impeachment in the Senate…except that Monica L. had become Mortimer L., ‘the blue dress’ was ‘the blue blazer,’ the originator of the stain on said garment was disputed - and there was an eye witness to certain non-presidential  conduct with the page.

The only other ‘question’ I recall was a manufactured vignette drawn from the Cuban Missile Crisis in which my job was to advise Air Force Chief of Staff Curtis LeMay, who advocated immediate carpet-bombing of ‘the imprisoned island nation of Cuber,’ on how best to convince JFK to follow the looney General’s advice or ‘to otherwise achieve his objectives.’ We were also specifically instructed to evaluate the possibility of a coup attempt in which Gen. LeMay had JFK, RFK, McNamara, Bundy et al arrested at gun point and hauled off to a ‘detention center.’

'Are you fucking kidding me?' I remember thinking as I began. While it was a two-hour exam, I had expected to have my 'A' in the bag in an hour, leaving me plenty of time to leisurely limp over to the library by 9:30 and explain to the hot little bottoming bellhop that I wouldn't be fucking him again (that semester)…or whatever I told him. The fact that I had condoms and lube in my pocket suggests that I planned to fuck him, but I was not enthused by the idea of another messy bathroom fuck and couldn't figure out any other logistics since I certainly wasn't going to fuck him in my apartment.

I had been sleep-walking through those BS exam scenarios for about 40 minutes, writing what I knew was turgid crap,  when I stopped and put my head in my hands to breathe myself through what I hoped was just an unusually slow start. And then I recognized the wily professor’s trap. Or I thought I did. 45 minutes were already gone…and I decided to roll the dice. I tore out the pages I had written and crumpled them up.

Rather than deigning to address any of the eight posited situations, I wrote a crisp two-paragraph essay on one of the cornerstones of Machiavelli’s political realism, his emphasis on the utter uselessness of imaginary thinking. ‘Machiavelli never would have designed a test like this one, nor would he have wasted his time in attempting to answer these questions…’ I began.

Nevertheless, when I finished my two sparkling paragraphs, I decided to hedge my bet and add one or two sentences for each scenario, either providing a concise solution to the problem or demonstrating why the entire premise was flawed. For the imagined LeMay coup attempt, I wrote, “Because ‘the new prince’ must be absolutely willing to act immorally at the critical moment in order to stabilize his newfound power and to build an enduring political structure, there can be no thought of incarcerating the dethroned prince and his loyalists - they must be eliminated.”

I gave the Clinton impeachment scenario a bit more attention because it was the most fatuous of the posited scenarios, and a pet peeve of mine. As I explained, “A calculating Sen. Lott, correctly informed by ‘The Prince,’ would have refused to play any part in the impeachment farce. If he could not, as Majority Leader, sidestep his prosecutorial responsibilities after the House impeached, he should have resigned from the Leadership. The Republicans’ greatest potential ‘success’ - the removal of Clinton from office - would have been ashes in their mouths, elevating VP Gore to the presidency one year before the 2000 primaries - considerably strengthening his chances of being elected (& the country recognizing he had been elected), allowing him to run as an incumbent president in 2000. Machiavelli would have seen around that corner and counseled strongly against participation.”

I took a deep breath and turned in my exam at about 9:25 a.m., then headed toward the library. I had lost my assurance that I had blown up a “trap” and knew that I had fucked Mach App up badly. The ‘A’ I had been counting on to elevate my semester GPA from ‘a concern’ to ‘meh’ was history - I now had to pull a rabbit out of my ass on my last exam to make up the ground I had just so arrogantly squandered.  

And Jack - who was taking it the ass! - either had my apartment bugged and me under surveillance 24/7 or he… ‘Fuck,’ I thought, taking a drag on a cigarette, ‘if you wanna read my fucking mind, be my guest, but it’s gonna be damned dull reading,  nothing but 19th C Euro for the next 24 hours …’

"Hi Joe," my new freshman friend said, "I didn’t know you smoked."

"Andrew, you don’t really know anything about me…and I don’t smoke," I said, taking a deep pull and exhaling a perfect smoke ring.

"I can see that," Andrew said, "but I do know that you’re a good fucker." He was obviously pleased by his lame double entendre. "I can’t fuck right now - fucking exam at 10 - so I thought we could hook up later, maybe around 1:00?"

"No can do. I just made an F on an exam I should’ve killed. Now I have to make approximately a 100 tomorrow or my dad is gonna have my ass. I’ll be studying until I pass out." I realized as I said that that my Mach App swoon had probably just fucked myself out of the Texas-style fucking my ass had been counting on for that night. ‘Motherfucker,’ I thought, and then, ‘It’s all Jack’s fault.’

Andrew leaned in close to me and, as he took the cigarette out of my mouth and took a deep drag himself, I got another whiff of the same clean, earthy, aphrodisiacal andrew-scent that had so excited my imagination a couple of days before. ‘Jesus,’ I thought, ‘don’t do this shit to me now.’

As Andrew returned the cig to my mouth his other hand ever-so-briefly squeezed my cock through my khakis. In broad daylight! In the middle of campus! I quickly looked around - but suddenly no one else was in sight. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I checked first.” Really? I hadn’t noticed that.

"You really can’t find time for a 15-minute fuck?" Andrew asked.
Sounds like exactly what you need.” 

"Here’s the thing," I explained, "even if I could take a little…break…I’m not doing that again in a…basically…public bathroom anybody with a key—"

"How about a super-private storeroom that only locks - and unlocks - from the inside?" he asked, brushing my cock again. It felt like…electricity. I noticed that Andrew’s face had completely cleared up.

My resistance - what tiny little bit I had had - began to wilt. But I kept fighting. “Opposite side of the same coin,” I said. “Even if I could take a short break and even if you did have a super-private place, I can’t be wallowing around on the floor, having to shower and change clo—”

"Well, I don’t have a shower…or a mattress…but you can hang your clothes in a locker…and I have Wet Ones and deodorant…IF you can spare 15 minutes to slide your big fucking cock into my hungry ass…" I caught Andrew’s eyes darting around that time so I wasn’t surprised when he groped me the third time…but I was kind of surprised how long those freshman fingers lingered and how eagerly my dead-giveaway cock gave itself away.

"Gotta run…I’ll stop by your usual spot in the stacks around 1:00, for sure by 1:30, see if you’re…up…for a quick…break," he said as he finally released my very "up" cock.

"You’re a fucking succu…a fucking incubus," I said as he turned to go. 

"Maybe just an angel," Andrew laughed as he left me standing in the middle of campus with a nice boner.

21A: I AM JOE’S DICK…MEETING THE INCUBUS

I got up very early the next morning and was in a coffee shop looking over my notes by 6:30 to make sure I didn’t whiff on an exam that ought to give me my one sure A. It’s not that Poli Sci 451 (offered every other year) was a sop course by any means - its reputation among department majors was actually the opposite - but let’s face it, Mach App, as ‘Machiavelli Applied’ was called by the handful of political ethics geeks in the class, was so far up my alley that I could have been teaching it.

The basic course concept was a bi-weekly seat-of-the-pants ‘What Would Niccolò Do” discussion of several fresh and still emerging crises from that day’s New York Times or, less often, the Post-Dispatch. So brushing up on ‘The Prince’ over a frothy latté before knocking this one out of the park was a mere formality. I liked what I had learned the day before about how Jack ritually spent part of his last hour before every test (jacking off), but I was frankly concerned that I couldn’t afford to “waste” that semen just now. It did seem to be in increasing demand just then.

Besides, I didn’t need that kind of relaxation before killing my Mach App exam. I routinely worked out the same kinds of solutions to knotty problems closer to home while I was sleeping. By way of example, I had fallen asleep the night before, after having been well and truly fucked in the ass, thinking about Jack’s text comment “we’ll do our thing(s) whether u do tex or not.” Mostly I was thinking about what he had said because of how much I liked that ‘(s)’ appended to Jack’s ‘thing’ - not trying to solve anything. But when I woke up I had a pretty good idea of why Jack had been trying to get me fucked in the ass by Tex before (I assumed) Jack would be fucking me in the ass (per my request and his stated desire) later that week.

Jack, like the Prince, was not ‘ruthless’ but eminently practical, and relentlessly so. As it turned out, my waking idea was partly right, although there was both more and less to my notion of eminent practicality/realism. I did recognize, over my latté that Tuesday morning, the hubris in believing that I knew what ‘thing(s) ’ Jack might be interested in doing together even though he had made it abundantly clear that at least some of them involved Jack’s hard cock.

For starters, I understood that saying ‘what fucking rules?’ was not at all the same as saying, ‘whatever YOU want to do Joe.’ True to form, as soon as I had thought about Jack’s male mail, my phone pinged. It was almost unnerving how hard-wired to me Jack seemed to be via long distance.

••••••••

Jack: rise n shine buttfucker

Me: been up 4 hrs, ‘sup?

Jack: u giving new meaning to pulling an all-niter

which btw I’m not knocking - much better use of ur time

Me: as hard as it makes me to hear from u @ 7am, ive got exam in 1 hr

Jack: oh ok send male mail

Me: that actually was funny…but sorry to disappoint Im not spendng my hr whacking off

Jack: bummer

Me: so sumthng on ur mind?

Jack: said it in my opener
wanted to congratulate u on seismic fuck last nite - hope it went down as A-1 as I’m sure it did

Me: nice try

Jack: u think I’m fishing?

Me: I know ur fishing

Jack: whatever, but i’m not going to argue w/ u abt sumthng we both know happened

Me: haha think what u want

Jack: last night I’m home studying 4 org chem2 - oh its abt 9:25 pm & I start feeling pressure in my ass like sum1 with a big cobra dick is trying to do me

9:33 I feel knob inside, 9:36ish big cock engaged

I nearly had a fucking orgasm w/o touching my dick - approx 9:39 pm

940 or so & its like I’m being slow fucked & good - I felt like Linda Fucking Blair

abt 955 I give in - 2 strokes & boom my cock goes off like a cannon

Jack: how’m I doing? verbatim?

Me: it’s 720 am & I’m sitting in a coffee shop w/a boner, so thx for that

& I’m glad to hear ur having wet dreams again

Jack: LOL - 10:11 this long slow perfect assfucking finally ended - felt like dude exploded n MY ass

& it surprised me b/c I didnt know til then that tex was barebacking u

Jack: tip o’my hat to u 4 that badass move

just me & org chem last nite but I’ve never been fucked better - almost never

so yeah I know

Me: are u sayin u’ve been fuckd n the ass b4??

Jack: what u think ur the only one?

Me: but I thought u are 160% top??

Jack: I am bt Im also about 140% bottom

Me: u never told me

Jack: u never asked me - I ask u shit all the time, u still dont tell me, but I do ask

Jack: and my guess is you’ll be trying to hook up w/ the bellhop again today

Me: how do u know that? I don’t even know that

[[Although I had grabbed a couple of condoms and a travel-size tube of lube as I left the apartment that morning - just in case - at that moment the only person I was thinking about fucking in the ass was my identical twin. That was a thought I hadn’t had in nearly five years, but extrapolating that theoretical possibility from the surprising news that Jack had bottomed for other guys made my cock wake up for real. I was pretty sure my knees would have buckled if I had been standing up.]]

Jack: don’t know it like I know abt ur sublime fuck last nite, so my guess is I only “know” if its a big deal to u

but I do know 1st few times I got fucked by a guy who wdnt flip I found sum guy I cd fuck ASAP & I know ur window of opp w/ ur hot new friend will close by abt dark thirty today, so…

Me: can I fuck you? I mean what does no rules mean?

Jack: no rules means no rules, so we’ll see what happens ok? we’ll talk…but my seat of the ass thought is that if u can get it up you’re probably fucking me

Me: Ok will u call me aftr ur exam? texts not getting it done 4 me

Jack: Sure, probly after 1 pm - u thinking phone sex?

Me: Nope - just want to hear ur voice when u tell me again what no rules means

btw haven’t decided if I’m going to fuck that kid again or not - when i agreed to meet him after my exam my plan was to tell him adios…

Jack: bro if ur mtg him uve alrdy decided to fuck him, bt whatevr

I say go 4 it

Me: Im abt to b late - love u

Jack: like a naughty brother  ; )

•••••••

I scrambled my ass (and my sprained ankle) over to Mach App just in time - and with no time to get into my ‘exam mode,’ let alone unpack any of what Jack had said. How Jack knew Tex’s cock had been up my ass, I had no idea, but it did seem like he had been in the right ballpark when he had been putting very specific times - times he couldn’t have possibly known - to what had been happening the previous night 700 miles away from him. Fuck, Jack knew more about it than I did.

And other guys had been fucking Jack’s sweet asshole? Since when? And I could fuck him too?? That blew me away even more than his choreographed account of my own grand opening. So it’s no understatement when I say I was fucking rattled when I dove - no, more like ‘waded sluggishly’ - into what should have been an easy A for me. Of course it wasn’t.

There were eight fucked-up scenarios to read through, put myself in the head of a certain designated ‘character’ in each and explain how he should solve the problem consistent with Machiavelli’s guiding principles. I can only recall two of those scenarios - probably they stuck with me because they were the most ridiculous ones. All eight were based on historical events…but each had some improbable (and usually lurid) twist.

For example, the Clinton impeachment proceedings, only a years distant at the time: Attack the problem from the point of view of Majority Leader Lott’s floor manager, whose job it was to try the case for impeachment in the Senate…except that Monica L. had become Mortimer L., ‘the blue dress’ was ‘the blue blazer,’ the originator of the stain on said garment was disputed - and there was an eye witness to certain non-presidential conduct with the page.

The only other ‘question’ I recall was a manufactured vignette drawn from the Cuban Missile Crisis in which my job was to advise Air Force Chief of Staff Curtis LeMay, who advocated immediate carpet-bombing of ‘the imprisoned island nation of Cuber,’ on how best to convince JFK to follow the looney General’s advice or ‘to otherwise achieve his objectives.’ We were also specifically instructed to evaluate the possibility of a coup attempt in which Gen. LeMay had JFK, RFK, McNamara, Bundy et al arrested at gun point and hauled off to a ‘detention center.’

'Are you fucking kidding me?' I remember thinking as I began. While it was a two-hour exam, I had expected to have my 'A' in the bag in an hour, leaving me plenty of time to leisurely limp over to the library by 9:30 and explain to the hot little bottoming bellhop that I wouldn't be fucking him again (that semester)…or whatever I told him. The fact that I had condoms and lube in my pocket suggests that I planned to fuck him, but I was not enthused by the idea of another messy bathroom fuck and couldn't figure out any other logistics since I certainly wasn't going to fuck him in my apartment.

I had been sleep-walking through those BS exam scenarios for about 40 minutes, writing what I knew was turgid crap, when I stopped and put my head in my hands to breathe myself through what I hoped was just an unusually slow start. And then I recognized the wily professor’s trap. Or I thought I did. 45 minutes were already gone…and I decided to roll the dice. I tore out the pages I had written and crumpled them up.

Rather than deigning to address any of the eight posited situations, I wrote a crisp two-paragraph essay on one of the cornerstones of Machiavelli’s political realism, his emphasis on the utter uselessness of imaginary thinking. ‘Machiavelli never would have designed a test like this one, nor would he have wasted his time in attempting to answer these questions…’ I began.

Nevertheless, when I finished my two sparkling paragraphs, I decided to hedge my bet and add one or two sentences for each scenario, either providing a concise solution to the problem or demonstrating why the entire premise was flawed. For the imagined LeMay coup attempt, I wrote, “Because ‘the new prince’ must be absolutely willing to act immorally at the critical moment in order to stabilize his newfound power and to build an enduring political structure, there can be no thought of incarcerating the dethroned prince and his loyalists - they must be eliminated.”

I gave the Clinton impeachment scenario a bit more attention because it was the most fatuous of the posited scenarios, and a pet peeve of mine. As I explained, “A calculating Sen. Lott, correctly informed by ‘The Prince,’ would have refused to play any part in the impeachment farce. If he could not, as Majority Leader, sidestep his prosecutorial responsibilities after the House impeached, he should have resigned from the Leadership. The Republicans’ greatest potential ‘success’ - the removal of Clinton from office - would have been ashes in their mouths, elevating VP Gore to the presidency one year before the 2000 primaries - considerably strengthening his chances of being elected (& the country recognizing he had been elected), allowing him to run as an incumbent president in 2000. Machiavelli would have seen around that corner and counseled strongly against participation.”

I took a deep breath and turned in my exam at about 9:25 a.m., then headed toward the library. I had lost my assurance that I had blown up a “trap” and knew that I had fucked Mach App up badly. The ‘A’ I had been counting on to elevate my semester GPA from ‘a concern’ to ‘meh’ was history - I now had to pull a rabbit out of my ass on my last exam to make up the ground I had just so arrogantly squandered.

And Jack - who was taking it the ass! - either had my apartment bugged and me under surveillance 24/7 or he… ‘Fuck,’ I thought, taking a drag on a cigarette, ‘if you wanna read my fucking mind, be my guest, but it’s gonna be damned dull reading, nothing but 19th C Euro for the next 24 hours …’

"Hi Joe," my new freshman friend said, "I didn’t know you smoked."

"Andrew, you don’t really know anything about me…and I don’t smoke," I said, taking a deep pull and exhaling a perfect smoke ring.

"I can see that," Andrew said, "but I do know that you’re a good fucker." He was obviously pleased by his lame double entendre. "I can’t fuck right now - fucking exam at 10 - so I thought we could hook up later, maybe around 1:00?"

"No can do. I just made an F on an exam I should’ve killed. Now I have to make approximately a 100 tomorrow or my dad is gonna have my ass. I’ll be studying until I pass out." I realized as I said that that my Mach App swoon had probably just fucked myself out of the Texas-style fucking my ass had been counting on for that night. ‘Motherfucker,’ I thought, and then, ‘It’s all Jack’s fault.’

Andrew leaned in close to me and, as he took the cigarette out of my mouth and took a deep drag himself, I got another whiff of the same clean, earthy, aphrodisiacal andrew-scent that had so excited my imagination a couple of days before. ‘Jesus,’ I thought, ‘don’t do this shit to me now.’

As Andrew returned the cig to my mouth his other hand ever-so-briefly squeezed my cock through my khakis. In broad daylight! In the middle of campus! I quickly looked around - but suddenly no one else was in sight. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I checked first.” Really? I hadn’t noticed that.

"You really can’t find time for a 15-minute fuck?" Andrew asked.
Sounds like exactly what you need.”

"Here’s the thing," I explained, "even if I could take a little…break…I’m not doing that again in a…basically…public bathroom anybody with a key—"

"How about a super-private storeroom that only locks - and unlocks - from the inside?" he asked, brushing my cock again. It felt like…electricity. I noticed that Andrew’s face had completely cleared up.

My resistance - what tiny little bit I had had - began to wilt. But I kept fighting. “Opposite side of the same coin,” I said. “Even if I could take a short break and even if you did have a super-private place, I can’t be wallowing around on the floor, having to shower and change clo—”

"Well, I don’t have a shower…or a mattress…but you can hang your clothes in a locker…and I have Wet Ones and deodorant…IF you can spare 15 minutes to slide your big fucking cock into my hungry ass…" I caught Andrew’s eyes darting around that time so I wasn’t surprised when he groped me the third time…but I was kind of surprised how long those freshman fingers lingered and how eagerly my dead-giveaway cock gave itself away.

"Gotta run…I’ll stop by your usual spot in the stacks around 1:00, for sure by 1:30, see if you’re…up…for a quick…break," he said as he finally released my very "up" cock.

"You’re a fucking succu…a fucking incubus," I said as he turned to go.

"Maybe just an angel," Andrew laughed as he left me standing in the middle of campus with a nice boner.

Breaking in the roommate/2.

Breaking in the roommate/2.

Breaking in the roommate.

Breaking in the roommate.

Checking out the roommate.

Checking out the roommate.

hugethingsss:

h u g e t h i n g ( s s s )
monsters-of-the-cock:

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I’m in love 😋


••••••••

Thanks…wish I knew where that love is coming from.

sublimecock:

20B:  I AM JOHN’S DICK…MEASURING UP

John had just fucked me in the ass for the first time a few minutes before - and had then very nearly seen (had he seen?) the incriminating message notifications on my phone as he handed it to me.

I opened the messages in the kitchen while John was in the bathroom. I could only hope he had to take a dump instead of just whizz… I checked Jack’s message first:

••••••••

Jack: IM SO FUCKIN HARD 4U…
but Im felng bad im nt comunic8ng well whn im tryin 2 fix sum shit 

u&i will b cool whtevr u & tex do, ok? 

Me:  no worries - it’s all good jack
bt cant talk now

Jack: NP - was just reading my surrender conv & it hit me that u cd read my tex cmts as a condition 4 the rest - not wht I meant @ all 

u do ur thing ur way, we’ll do our thing(s) whether u do tex or not

later bro

•••••••

I still hadn’t re-read my conversation with Jack but I could see that I was not going to get to do that, because I couldn’t risk John somehow reading it too.  I reluctantly deleted all of my texts to & from Jack, as I should have done earlier. And I continued to marvel at Jack’s timing - he sent helpful but unsolicited pointers on positions and cock size shortly before I surprised John by insisting that he fuck me;  and then after having pleaded with me at noon to let John fuck me so as not to fuck up his perfect setup for us (a connection I still did not understand), almost as soon as John had finished fucking me in the ass,  Jack was back telling me that his setup for me was not dependent on what John and I did. At the time Jack was urging me to let John fuck me that night, I had already decided to just that, but I had not told Jack that.

•••••••

#314xxx:   u wanna fuck me again
in the library? 

it’s Andrew btw

txt me back

[[No shit it was  Andrew. Who the hell else did that hot little ‘bellhop’ think I had been fucking in the library?? And how the fuck had he gotten my cell number? When I had offered to be a friend that he could talk to about shit I had intended to give him my number - but I’d never gotten around to doing that. I saved his number to my contacts.]]

Me:  Maybe, but cant talk tonite.

I hav 8am exam - shd b thru by 930 - lets talk then - meet me o/s library 

pls dont text back tonite

•••••••

I wiped out that little chat and was turning off my phone when John came looking for his beer. “Just Jack, encouraging me to put away my books and bend over for you,” I laughed. The thought of bending over then and there did have a certain appeal, though…

"You lay Jack’s concern to rest?" John asked as I handed him a beer.

"Nah, but I didn’t tease him either. You know I won’t be able to keep myself from telling him what a great fucker you are, and I hope you don’t mind too much that we share as much as we do,  but the news about how fucking happy I am and why is for another day. It’s still just ours, you know? I mean like what? I haven’t even caught my breath yet…look, my legs are still trembling." And they were.

But my stupid fucking cock was stirring at the thought of bending over and getting my ass plowed again…like right  then. My brain didn’t think that was a very good idea and my ass would have shrieked in alarm if it had known what my cock was thinking. 

John took a big chug of his beer. “Damn, that hits the spot,” he said. I matched his and we clinked bottles. “Cheers,” I said, “you sure earned it.”  “What about you? Are you ok?” John asked. “I mean, you know, is your—”

I laughed, “You mean how’s my asshole now that you’re through tearing it up? I’m fine, a little tender…but no big deal. Really.” I thought a second and added, “John, you were…perfect. I never imagined how that could be…”

I had wanted to ask John to describe what he had been thinking and feeling when I had put my knob in his hole…but I didn’t want to take away from his moment. Plus, I really was tired of talking about fucking. But then I started talking about fucking…again.

"Hypothetically speaking, I’m just…curious…could you fuck me again now…or in a few minutes…if you wanted to?"  I asked - but I had very nearly said ‘…if I needed you to?’  My cock barometer started to rise at the thought of bending over and being filled with John’s cock again…and by the sudden and unexpected flash through my brain of young Andrew bending over and me filling him up with me. I quickly pushed that intrusive but hung bellhop out of my mind. 

John took another swig of his beer and considered the question. “If you’re  asking me if I could get it up,” he said as he playfully took the head of my surprisingly perky dick between his thumb and index finger, “the answer is yes. But if you’re asking me if I think that’s a good idea - for you - I’d have to say it’s not.”  My cock cleared half mast and more as John gently squeezed and then sort of…”rolled” the head of my cock between his fingers. I’m not quite sure what he did, but that’s when I started thinking solely with hormones again. My ass was about to be toast…I hoped.

"Hypothetically speaking, if you WERE to, say, bend me over right here, could you - being only as gentle as you needed to be, not as gentle you can be - could you get off pretty quick…if that’s what I wanted?" I wondered where that fucking hormone-laden question had come from, as John’s hand slid softly down my mostly erect cock and cupped, then squeezed, my low hangers. His own fat dick was getting fatter, too, I noted, and I took his balls in my own hand as my breathing definitely changed.

"You mean," he asked, "could I get off in your sweet ass without overstaying my welcome?"

"Something like that," I mumbled as John dropped to his knees and started sucking my nuts."See…I’m thinking that by…tomorrow night my asshole is going to be just as tight as it used to be…ohhh…" I panted. That had been a finger slipping into my asshole. Which did not suck.  "…or almost as tight…but right fucking now…it’s…mmm….almost the right size…maybe…" and then I was on the  floor with John becoming a 6 to his 9. But not for very long.

"John…" I said as I pulled myself away from his cock, tonguing the rim of his portobello, just before detaching. I’m going to bend over the big cushy arm of that chair [pointing] while you find some lube…and then you’re going to fuck me as hard and fast as…um…present circumstances…allow, right?"

"Right." 

"And pay some attention to how deep your cock goes in…if you think about it…I wanna ask you to show me the high water mark on your dick when we’re done," I said as I started to bend over the chair.

 As hard and fast as present circumstances allowed was not all that hard or fast - but it was hard and fast in comparison to Round 1. John was able to penetrate and ‘engage’ much more quickly this time, spreading my ass wide with his hands and pushing the head in almost like it belonged there. I asked him to pause again when he gained “traction” and I savored that sick fucking mojo of craving ‘more more more.’ Then John fucked me as hard and fast as he gently could, and I kind of figured out when and how to push back - also gently.

"Oh fuck yeah" I all but screamed when he reached around me and squeezed my balls at the same time he thrust into what must have been his ‘high water mark.’ Boom! I shot my wad all over that overstuffed armchair with one good nut squeeze. I was still milking out the rest of my cum as John pushed in hard, wrapped both arms around me, and ejaculated, pulling back and pushing in just a liitle more with each spurt of cum…and then we both really were completely spent. That guy could fuck. He was a born top, with just enough bottom in him to make him a great top. Naturally, I would fuck that sweet deal up, and sooner than I had figured, but I couldn’t help myself. That’s later, though.

"Jesus, Joe," John said as he withdrew his still hard cock, "what got into you?"

I kind of yelped when the last of his cock pulled out, and then said, still panting, “Apparently a great…big…HUGE…fucking…cock… Show me how deep, ok?”

John laughed and made a loose fist, sliding it down just past his mushroom head. “The knob,” he said and slid his hand down maybe another inch. “That’s about where I paused both times…and where you went fucking wild both times,” he said, laughing.

"Gosh," I replied, "that’s what…maybe 3 inches? And there’s still so much more…" 

"Yeah, I’d say 2 and a half or 3…" then moving the ring made by just his thumb and index finger down a couple more inches, he said, "that’s about 5…probably as deep as I went the first time but…mostly I was at, say, 4," and he slid the circle back up an inch.  

"So…what you’re telling me…" I said, "is that you fucked the shit out of me with me just half your dick?"

"Not quite half,"  he laughed, and then moved  his fingers down a couple of more inches. "That looks like about 6…and I’d say that’s about as much as ever went in…about when you came." 

"Yeah, about then…Ok, now eep your fingers there," I said, as I slid my hand underneath his and measured with the gap between his fingers and the base of his cock. Holding up my thumb and index finger, and apprising the gap between them, I said, "That looks like about 3 inches to me…3 inches of your cock that never had the pleasure of my ass…" 

"Keep in mind," John interjected, "that I’m not as hard now as I was then, so…"

"So," I said, "even more than 3 inches hasn’t had the pleasure of my ass…yet." Then I measured the same distance from the tip of John’s cock and closed my fist around it there, and said, "And about the same amount of cock that it took to drive me fucking wild. 

"I thought you told me your cock is 8 inches hard…" I said as I did the math.

"I never said that," John smiled, "you did."

"No fucking wonder you’re so good at the department store game," I said, dredging up from nowhere what by then seemed liked ancient history.

"Killer," John replied.

"By the way, keeping in mind that my cock’s not quite as thick as yours," I continued, as I moved my hand up to about 2.5 inches below the end of John’s dick, "that’s about where I stopped during your knob test." I was enjoying holding John’s cock.

"Before or after?" John asked.

"Oh, before," I replied, "after you…uh asked me—"

"You can say ‘begged,’" John said.

I laughed and said, “That was NOT begging. I know because I’ve begged…so after you ‘asked urgently’ for me to push in deeper - and we agreed that my going deeper would not break my promise not to fuck you so long as—”

John was laughing now. “Joe, everybody knows that in/in/in is NOT fucking…while in/out/in very clearly IS fucking…”

"Let’s just say, then, that you came as close tonight to getting fucked in the ass as you can get without getting fucked in the ass. So the FIRST time you urgently asked for more, I parked my cock at about here," I continued, moving my hand down and giving his softening dick a couple of shakes. "About 4 inches of Joe up your ass. How’d that feel, big guy?"

"I’ll answer that, but first show me your final parking place," John said.

"About here," I said squeezing his dick tight enough to make it hard. "Maybe 5 inches."

"Alright, then 4 inches of Joe up my ass felt superb…but not nearly as good as 5 inches of Joe."

"Right…Joe is standing there with all but a couple inches of his poor little dick in your very tight ass, which by the way, was contracting, crushing  my cock like you’re some badass boa constrictor…which is why I had to pull out so fast…to keep from cumming in your ass - which most people would have confused with buttfucking."

"I see your point," John laughed. "But seriously?  Having your cock inside me made me feel like I wanted you to fuck my brains out."

"I would never say you’ve got the soul of a bottom…but you do have potential. And it’s a good thing you didn’t ask…" I said, "or I would have fucked you without further ado. As you found out just a few minutes later, I’ve basically torn up that rule book."

"God, what a surprise that was, what a wonderful fucking surprise…you don’t have any regrets do you?" John asked.

"I’ve got an 8 o’clock so I’m going to bed before I make you fuck me again.

sublimecock:

20B: I AM JOHN’S DICK…MEASURING UP

John had just fucked me in the ass for the first time a few minutes before - and had then very nearly seen (had he seen?) the incriminating message notifications on my phone as he handed it to me.

I opened the messages in the kitchen while John was in the bathroom. I could only hope he had to take a dump instead of just whizz… I checked Jack’s message first:

••••••••

Jack: IM SO FUCKIN HARD 4U…
but Im felng bad im nt comunic8ng well whn im tryin 2 fix sum shit

u&i will b cool whtevr u & tex do, ok?

Me: no worries - it’s all good jack
bt cant talk now

Jack: NP - was just reading my surrender conv & it hit me that u cd read my tex cmts as a condition 4 the rest - not wht I meant @ all

u do ur thing ur way, we’ll do our thing(s) whether u do tex or not

later bro

•••••••

I still hadn’t re-read my conversation with Jack but I could see that I was not going to get to do that, because I couldn’t risk John somehow reading it too. I reluctantly deleted all of my texts to & from Jack, as I should have done earlier. And I continued to marvel at Jack’s timing - he sent helpful but unsolicited pointers on positions and cock size shortly before I surprised John by insisting that he fuck me; and then after having pleaded with me at noon to let John fuck me so as not to fuck up his perfect setup for us (a connection I still did not understand), almost as soon as John had finished fucking me in the ass, Jack was back telling me that his setup for me was not dependent on what John and I did. At the time Jack was urging me to let John fuck me that night, I had already decided to just that, but I had not told Jack that.

•••••••

#314xxx: u wanna fuck me again
in the library?

it’s Andrew btw

txt me back

[[No shit it was Andrew. Who the hell else did that hot little ‘bellhop’ think I had been fucking in the library?? And how the fuck had he gotten my cell number? When I had offered to be a friend that he could talk to about shit I had intended to give him my number - but I’d never gotten around to doing that. I saved his number to my contacts.]]

Me: Maybe, but cant talk tonite.

I hav 8am exam - shd b thru by 930 - lets talk then - meet me o/s library

pls dont text back tonite

•••••••

I wiped out that little chat and was turning off my phone when John came looking for his beer. “Just Jack, encouraging me to put away my books and bend over for you,” I laughed. The thought of bending over then and there did have a certain appeal, though…

"You lay Jack’s concern to rest?" John asked as I handed him a beer.

"Nah, but I didn’t tease him either. You know I won’t be able to keep myself from telling him what a great fucker you are, and I hope you don’t mind too much that we share as much as we do, but the news about how fucking happy I am and why is for another day. It’s still just ours, you know? I mean like what? I haven’t even caught my breath yet…look, my legs are still trembling." And they were.

But my stupid fucking cock was stirring at the thought of bending over and getting my ass plowed again…like right then. My brain didn’t think that was a very good idea and my ass would have shrieked in alarm if it had known what my cock was thinking.

John took a big chug of his beer. “Damn, that hits the spot,” he said. I matched his and we clinked bottles. “Cheers,” I said, “you sure earned it.” “What about you? Are you ok?” John asked. “I mean, you know, is your—”

I laughed, “You mean how’s my asshole now that you’re through tearing it up? I’m fine, a little tender…but no big deal. Really.” I thought a second and added, “John, you were…perfect. I never imagined how that could be…”

I had wanted to ask John to describe what he had been thinking and feeling when I had put my knob in his hole…but I didn’t want to take away from his moment. Plus, I really was tired of talking about fucking. But then I started talking about fucking…again.

"Hypothetically speaking, I’m just…curious…could you fuck me again now…or in a few minutes…if you wanted to?" I asked - but I had very nearly said ‘…if I needed you to?’ My cock barometer started to rise at the thought of bending over and being filled with John’s cock again…and by the sudden and unexpected flash through my brain of young Andrew bending over and me filling him up with me. I quickly pushed that intrusive but hung bellhop out of my mind.

John took another swig of his beer and considered the question. “If you’re asking me if I could get it up,” he said as he playfully took the head of my surprisingly perky dick between his thumb and index finger, “the answer is yes. But if you’re asking me if I think that’s a good idea - for you - I’d have to say it’s not.” My cock cleared half mast and more as John gently squeezed and then sort of…”rolled” the head of my cock between his fingers. I’m not quite sure what he did, but that’s when I started thinking solely with hormones again. My ass was about to be toast…I hoped.

"Hypothetically speaking, if you WERE to, say, bend me over right here, could you - being only as gentle as you needed to be, not as gentle you can be - could you get off pretty quick…if that’s what I wanted?" I wondered where that fucking hormone-laden question had come from, as John’s hand slid softly down my mostly erect cock and cupped, then squeezed, my low hangers. His own fat dick was getting fatter, too, I noted, and I took his balls in my own hand as my breathing definitely changed.

"You mean," he asked, "could I get off in your sweet ass without overstaying my welcome?"

"Something like that," I mumbled as John dropped to his knees and started sucking my nuts."See…I’m thinking that by…tomorrow night my asshole is going to be just as tight as it used to be…ohhh…" I panted. That had been a finger slipping into my asshole. Which did not suck. "…or almost as tight…but right fucking now…it’s…mmm….almost the right size…maybe…" and then I was on the floor with John becoming a 6 to his 9. But not for very long.

"John…" I said as I pulled myself away from his cock, tonguing the rim of his portobello, just before detaching. I’m going to bend over the big cushy arm of that chair [pointing] while you find some lube…and then you’re going to fuck me as hard and fast as…um…present circumstances…allow, right?"

"Right."

"And pay some attention to how deep your cock goes in…if you think about it…I wanna ask you to show me the high water mark on your dick when we’re done," I said as I started to bend over the chair.

As hard and fast as present circumstances allowed was not all that hard or fast - but it was hard and fast in comparison to Round 1. John was able to penetrate and ‘engage’ much more quickly this time, spreading my ass wide with his hands and pushing the head in almost like it belonged there. I asked him to pause again when he gained “traction” and I savored that sick fucking mojo of craving ‘more more more.’ Then John fucked me as hard and fast as he gently could, and I kind of figured out when and how to push back - also gently.

"Oh fuck yeah" I all but screamed when he reached around me and squeezed my balls at the same time he thrust into what must have been his ‘high water mark.’ Boom! I shot my wad all over that overstuffed armchair with one good nut squeeze. I was still milking out the rest of my cum as John pushed in hard, wrapped both arms around me, and ejaculated, pulling back and pushing in just a liitle more with each spurt of cum…and then we both really were completely spent. That guy could fuck. He was a born top, with just enough bottom in him to make him a great top. Naturally, I would fuck that sweet deal up, and sooner than I had figured, but I couldn’t help myself. That’s later, though.

"Jesus, Joe," John said as he withdrew his still hard cock, "what got into you?"

I kind of yelped when the last of his cock pulled out, and then said, still panting, “Apparently a great…big…HUGE…fucking…cock… Show me how deep, ok?”

John laughed and made a loose fist, sliding it down just past his mushroom head. “The knob,” he said and slid his hand down maybe another inch. “That’s about where I paused both times…and where you went fucking wild both times,” he said, laughing.

"Gosh," I replied, "that’s what…maybe 3 inches? And there’s still so much more…"

"Yeah, I’d say 2 and a half or 3…" then moving the ring made by just his thumb and index finger down a couple more inches, he said, "that’s about 5…probably as deep as I went the first time but…mostly I was at, say, 4," and he slid the circle back up an inch.

"So…what you’re telling me…" I said, "is that you fucked the shit out of me with me just half your dick?"

"Not quite half," he laughed, and then moved his fingers down a couple of more inches. "That looks like about 6…and I’d say that’s about as much as ever went in…about when you came."

"Yeah, about then…Ok, now eep your fingers there," I said, as I slid my hand underneath his and measured with the gap between his fingers and the base of his cock. Holding up my thumb and index finger, and apprising the gap between them, I said, "That looks like about 3 inches to me…3 inches of your cock that never had the pleasure of my ass…"

"Keep in mind," John interjected, "that I’m not as hard now as I was then, so…"

"So," I said, "even more than 3 inches hasn’t had the pleasure of my ass…yet." Then I measured the same distance from the tip of John’s cock and closed my fist around it there, and said, "And about the same amount of cock that it took to drive me fucking wild.

"I thought you told me your cock is 8 inches hard…" I said as I did the math.

"I never said that," John smiled, "you did."

"No fucking wonder you’re so good at the department store game," I said, dredging up from nowhere what by then seemed liked ancient history.

"Killer," John replied.

"By the way, keeping in mind that my cock’s not quite as thick as yours," I continued, as I moved my hand up to about 2.5 inches below the end of John’s dick, "that’s about where I stopped during your knob test." I was enjoying holding John’s cock.

"Before or after?" John asked.

"Oh, before," I replied, "after you…uh asked me—"

"You can say ‘begged,’" John said.

I laughed and said, “That was NOT begging. I know because I’ve begged…so after you ‘asked urgently’ for me to push in deeper - and we agreed that my going deeper would not break my promise not to fuck you so long as—”

John was laughing now. “Joe, everybody knows that in/in/in is NOT fucking…while in/out/in very clearly IS fucking…”

"Let’s just say, then, that you came as close tonight to getting fucked in the ass as you can get without getting fucked in the ass. So the FIRST time you urgently asked for more, I parked my cock at about here," I continued, moving my hand down and giving his softening dick a couple of shakes. "About 4 inches of Joe up your ass. How’d that feel, big guy?"

"I’ll answer that, but first show me your final parking place," John said.

"About here," I said squeezing his dick tight enough to make it hard. "Maybe 5 inches."

"Alright, then 4 inches of Joe up my ass felt superb…but not nearly as good as 5 inches of Joe."

"Right…Joe is standing there with all but a couple inches of his poor little dick in your very tight ass, which by the way, was contracting, crushing my cock like you’re some badass boa constrictor…which is why I had to pull out so fast…to keep from cumming in your ass - which most people would have confused with buttfucking."

"I see your point," John laughed. "But seriously? Having your cock inside me made me feel like I wanted you to fuck my brains out."

"I would never say you’ve got the soul of a bottom…but you do have potential. And it’s a good thing you didn’t ask…" I said, "or I would have fucked you without further ado. As you found out just a few minutes later, I’ve basically torn up that rule book."

"God, what a surprise that was, what a wonderful fucking surprise…you don’t have any regrets do you?" John asked.

"I’ve got an 8 o’clock so I’m going to bed before I make you fuck me again.

How roommates fuck.

How roommates fuck.

Angler of Repose/16.

Angler of Repose/15.

Angler of Repose/14.

Angler of Repose/14.

Angler of Repose/13.

Angler of Repose/13.

Angler of Repose/12.

Angler of Repose/12.