A gay story: Coming of Age in Kentucky This is a fictional original story. KCS does not exist except in my imagination. The plot is simple: a freshman, inexperienced boy discovers the dimensions of his sexuality through his roommate. All characters engaged in sexual activities are over 18 as should be any reader where local law demands. Copyright, 2023, all rights reserved. BD
Britt Edwards had reported two weeks early for the start of classes at Kentucky Central State. He had been awarded an unusual “conditional” football scholarship after placing nationally as a wide receiver in his senior year at Christian Valley Regional—a small unknown school without a demonstrable football pedigree in Southern Illinois. He had been recruited by the new coach, a well-respected star in mid-level college athletics. He was a risk, but the recruiter felt he had potential which had not been tapped. KCS, a relatively new school in Lexington, was “on the make” and had secured a newly-created slot in the Middle Atlantic Football League and even a small television contract for its four home games.
The coaching staff had gone all-out and actually found more players than they could accommodate on the freshmen, JV and Varsity teams—under league rules. Thus Britt was on a “two week trial” to determine whether he had the stamina, physical strength and athletic skill to place on any of the teams. Thus, he was playing for his life—his parents could not afford the KCS tuition, and, if the football scholarship didn’t materialize, he would be headed home and a community college or an unintended “gap year”—after the summer “camp”.
So Britt was giving these scrimmages everything—despite the intense late summer heat. He was a farm boy—with the tanned milk-fed complexion, bulging “farm work” muscles, and quiet demeanor to prove it. He was big—6-2 and 220, but fast and with unusually large and talented hands. He had the physique and potential to become a big-time football star.
His face was square; crowned with dark shaggy hair; his smile, hypnotizing; his eyes, the bedroom-inviting variety. And over it all, he projected innocence and kindness. He was immediately pegged as a potential “chick-magnet” or desirable “wing man” by upper class players, although he had had little or no dating experience in high school.
Because of the provisional nature of his presence (the scholarship was conditional, but not his acceptance to KCS—but this was an immaterial distinction for a poor boy), Britt was placed in one of the newer air-conditioned jock dorms—but he knew that this too was temporary. Unless by some quirk he made it onto at least the JV team, he would be relegated to one of the “old quad rooms”—two doubles, connected by a bath in an older dorm—without air conditioning and with old baths and plumbing. So he was fighting for his bed as well. The dorm was filled with athletic hopefuls—including prior varsity players. And of course typically, conversation was not about athletics, but about townies, coeds, conquests, and almost-conquests. Sexual tension pervaded the cafeteria, the game rooms, and of course, the locker and shower rooms in the nearly all-male atmosphere pre-semester. Testosterone was in the air. Ribald jokes prevailed everywhere. Jocular accusations of homo-erotic potential were constant teases.
Britt, although intense, took it all well. He had known the disappointments of farm life when the rains didn’t come, or came too late, or when vermin destroyed the crop. He considered himself to be religious—at least he had attended regular Sunday services at the multi-denominational congregation near their farm, but, perhaps fortunately, he had not been indoctrinated into the hard right faith of so much of Kentucky. And he was relatively quiet, a loner.
He had dated a little in the last few years of high school, but his Dad had warned him about the country girls without college prospects—anxious to find a young, virile farm husband before graduation. And he knew not to be trapped by “accidental” pregnancy into a marriage. Thus, despite his rugged good looks, he arrived in mid-August, full of hope and enthusiasm, at the peak of amateur athleticism, and unattached, and, if the truth be known, lacking much knowledge of sex (except for an active life of self-pleasuring, aided by aged Playboys and Penthouses).
Britt was the quintessential team player. He knew all of the names and positions of his potential team mates within a week, often volunteered to help when necessary, pitched in with equipment collection and clean-up, cooperated on the field, and memorized plays carefully. And he was good, really good on the field. He seemed to be able to snatch passes miraculously from impossible situations—and then turn, slip out of a tackle, and run. He was already a favorite of the coaching staff and his fellow mates.
Britt was successful–more than he could have hoped. At the end of the two weeks, he was chosen for the JV squad—skipping the freshmen team (and the hated “yellow shirt” insignia of a first year player) entirely. His scholarship was secure—and his room in one of the jock dorms was guaranteed.
KCS (located in the very conservative fundamentalist part of the state) had taken some heat about athletic student privileges (really a dog-whistle code for the rampant “Satanic” sexuality imagined in those dorms) and so accommodation allocations were different this year. Administrators had “concluded” that all-jock dorms were unproductive—athletes were too likely to party (orgies were commonplace), were being denied the inexpensive opportunity for ad hoc tutoring by better students (that is, roommates), and had a tendency to ignore academic requirements until too late. So Britt got a great dorm room—a quad, air-conditioned, adjacent to the “training” cafeteria, but with an unknown and presumably academically gifted roommate with a projected major similar to his: business entrepreneurship. The roommate was to keep him in line.
Freshman week (now, thanks to PC, dubbed, “Intro Week”) began after the two week football camp—but of course football practices continued. Britt’s roommate arrived: a New Englander, the son of an old and apparently wealthy family, a graduate of Phillips Andover, and obviously a brain. He was smaller than Britt, but not by much, and decidedly not a weakling. He had skulled, played tennis, and for two years had been a star first baseman on the prep school’s team.
He arrived late on Saturday afternoon, wearing a large back pack, apparently stuffed with at least two laptops, a Red Sox baseball cap, ear buds, a tight white polo, chinos and Docksiders. Britt was just emerging from the shower after a long day of practice. He and the roommate entered the room simultaneously from different, but adjacent doors—neither hearing the other. Britt, whose wet hair hung over his eyes and partially blinded him, ran right into the newcomer. Britt looked up, grabbed the young man to prevent a fall, and apologized profusely—as his damp towel dropped to the floor. Suddenly he realized he was naked, damp, and embracing a boy. He immediately released and reached down for the towel, his head colliding with the new guy’s knee, and rewrapped—apologizing again. His face was by then a vivid red.
“Sorry. You must be my roommate. I’m Britt Edwards. What a terrible welcome and introduction. I’m not usually so clumsy.”
“Wow. I’m okay. I’m Colin Edwards. It doesn’t take much imagination to see how the administration paired us in this room. We are probably cousins, maybe even kissing cousins, but you might want to get something else on. The rest of my family—including two sisters—are on their way up with some of my stuff. We don’t want to scare them off with that monster piece of meat hanging between your legs.”
A little over an hour later, Colin had been installed in a little more than half the room—contributing a small frig, an LED, game controllers, a microwave and an espresso machine to the commonweal. Colin’s family left with hugs, kisses and tears, and the boys were left alone to explore backgrounds—and later the campus.
“I’m a little surprised. I’m here to play football on a full scholarship, maybe getting some education in the process. How does a blue-blood New Englander with a prep school pedigree find his way to KCS?”
“Really simple. Granddad has a thoroughbred horse farm in Covington, about an hour north of here. He insisted since he is a trustee here and major contributor. And frankly, I barely made it through Andover. I don’t much like to study. The real world is way too interesting. And I really like sex. I’m a real horndog.”
“You do know that you’re supposed to be the good example and tutor for this dumb jock. I assume that is how you got this dorm.”
“I presume grandfather had something to do with the dorm. And that means someone is going to be short-changed. I’m prepared to show you some of the more exciting aspects of life available to young studs like you and me, but, I think you’re going to be on your own with the books. I’ve been majoring in the good life, not the academic life so far. It’s already been a long day of driving. Let me get a shower and you can show me around.”
Colin stripped, showing no attempt at modesty—after all he had already seen everything that Britt had to offer. In a few minutes he emerged from the shower, toweling himself dry as his long uncut dick swung before him. Colin was the same height as Britt, but blond and blue-eyed. His body was lightly muscled, nearly hairless and his pubes had obviously been professionally groomed. Britt reddened again, turned away and dropped onto his twin. Colin for his part rummaged for clean clothes, totally unconcerned with his nudity, maybe even flirting a bit—alternately displaying a nice muscular ass and chubbed, free-hanging equipment that had probably been just-yanked in the shower. Britt noticed his large left hand and remembered he had played first base at some point. He was a little embarrassed to be thinking that Colin was probably ambidextrously masturbatory!
“Have you met any girls yet?”
“There haven’t been many here. The last two weeks have been grueling practices and workouts—and entirely male. I think there are a few girls’ teams here, but we’ve been segregated. I think the coeds—at least the first year–arrive today and tomorrow.”
“Well, I guess we’ll get our first view at dinner tonight—or maybe at the mixer tomorrow night. I’m ready. Let’s roll.”
The next hour was spent in discovery of the campus—and to a much lesser extent each other. Colin was not sure how he was going to play his new life. At Phillips he had dated some and even scored a few times, before he discovered his intrigue with same sex “activities”. Discretion was absolutely essential—so he kept man-hooks off-campus, and maintained a hetero persona at school. He couldn’t afford to be dismissed—although PA was technically now an “inclusive” prep school. But, it was still conservative and old-New England. So, like the military, “Don’t ask, don’t tell” became the rule. He was already attracted to Britt, but assumed he was a straight jock. And KCS was in the Bible belt; Kentucky was in the dark ages with respect to human sexuality. This would take time. Meanwhile, he would remain closeted, discreet, and enjoy the occasional glimpses of his hung roommate—and take his chances off-campus. He wondered if Lexington even had a gay community.
There was no question that Colin was already interested in Britt. He had a nice body. He had a nice big dick hanging over a large low hanging set of balls. And he had that classic clean innocence. Colin set a goal: I’ll have him by the end of the semester. He wished there was someone with whom he could wager. He was confident of his ability to get what he wanted, very confident.
Britt on the other hand spoke freely about his past, his aspirations, and his family. He was the classic farm boy—not even familiar with the breeding of animals since their farm had been all grains, corn and heavy equipment. He had never touched an unclothed human being below the waist—except of course himself. High school dating was limited to first base. (Colin laughed at this reference and remarked, “I played first base for two years at Andover. I was pretty good.”)
The discovery walk was ended with a cafeteria dinner at one of the open spots on campus. It was crowded and noisy. They sat with the football team which seemed to have already adopted Britt as a regular. All teased him about his sex appeal and how he would score at the next night’s mixer. Britt had early practice the next day and so the guys returned to the dorm just after the sun set. The two guys in the adjoining room (which shared the bath) had arrived. They were both locals—one was a baseball player; the other his geeky “tutor.” Introductions were exchanged and the guys sat down to a few hands of poker—Britt alone needing to be taught some of the rules. Because Britt was a neophyte player, it was decided to play strip rather than for money. Less than a half hour later, Britt was sitting nude on his bed while the other three guys had only lost shirts and shoes. He didn’t seem to be particularly self-conscious about it, Colin noted.
“I guess this means I lose. I’m glad we’re not playing for money—which I don’t have any way. I’m going to have to do some catching up in learning this game.”
“I’ll be happy to tutor you on this. It is part of life. And, incidentally, you haven’t lost yet—these games do have alternative loser penalties after all the clothes are gone,” Colin pronounced with a knowing smile. But the “party” broke up early and everyone turned in, Colin noting that Britt didn’t bother to redress to wash up and prepare for bed—and that he slept nude. He couldn’t believe how far things had come in only the first day. Both guys had gotten naked in front of the other; neither seemed to mind. Colin hoped it was more than locker room casualness on Britt’s part. He hoped it spilled over into casualness about sex.
Classes began a few days later and between them and football practice, Britt had little time for anything—and little time in his dorm room. And following Colin’s lead, Britt slipped easily into a casual no-or-little-clothes mentality while they were in the room. Once or twice when he returned unexpectedly, he thought that Colin was concealing an erection or a just completed ejaculation, but Britt knew the pleasures of masturbation and the difficulty of finding private time to engage. When it happened again, Britt remarked, “Listen, Colin. I know we both jerk off. You don’t need to hide it from me, and I won’t hide it from you. Agreed?”
Colin could not believe his luck. Britt was turning into a tolerant partner! So he often waited until he knew Britt was going to be around before stroking himself to orgasm. It didn’t take long. Britt was easily aroused. About a week later, after hours of quiet study, Colin began to stroke. Britt was obviously aware as he too was stiff. “That must be uncomfortable. You’ll study better if you have some relief. Move over here to my bed and we’ll see who shoots first and farthest.” Colin wondered whether he had gone too far, too soon, but Britt rose from his desk chair and moved to the bed. It was then that Colin realized that Britt was a porn-quality grower. His seven had grown to nearly ten—and he was thick with an enormous plum-shaped-and colored knob. He was also a beautiful cut hunk of man-flesh. “Man, has anyone ever taken all of that?”
Britt laughed. No, in fact, you’re the first to see it hard besides me.
“But I thought the team has nick-named you ‘Britt-bait’, a chick-magnet?”
“They have no idea that I’m a virgin. I’m just a poor innocent farm boy. You know, some people might think this is bit weird. Two naked guys jerking together on a bed. It seems kinda gay. Don’t you think?”
“Gay is a state of mind—not a state of undress or a technique for getting off or even male on male sex. I don’t feel gay at all. I like being nude. I like jerking off. And I like having company, particularly someone who looks as good as you.” Moving just a bit, Colin reached over and grabbed Britt’s dick with his left hand, “Let me give you a hand with this. Wow, my fist doesn’t even fit around it!”
Britt was right. Colin could jerk with both hands—simultaneously! Within seconds of the grip and a few strokes, Britt tensed and shot an enormous wad that landed four feet across the room. Colin followed a few seconds later. The ice had been broken. Colin was really pleased. Britt hadn’t been seduced; he had volunteered—and he didn’t seem to be upset. Mutual “assisted” masturbation was now regularly on the program.
Football season started the next Saturday. The JV and Freshmen scrimmages in the afternoon had been terrific. KCS romped over a bitter rival in each game. Britt caught two touchdown passes in difficult situations. That night was the first varsity game to be televised. Britt was on the sidelines, but not suited up. League rules prohibited more than 36 to suit up, and of course, he wasn’t on the varsity team. Late in the fourth quarter, however, when KCS was ahead by 8, a vicious tackle ended in a penalty—but it resulted in broken ribs and a serious hip injury to Britt’s friend and mentor, Bill Casper, the star varsity wide receiver. KCS won, but the victory was Pyrrhic. It seemed that Bill would be out for several games, perhaps even the season. Coach Nielson immediately went into action, moving Britt to the varsity slot. “This may be a bit early, but I think you can grow into it. You’ve got the size and the talent—but we’ll give you special attention in practice.”
After the game, Britt was mobbed by cheerleaders and groupies. He hadn’t even played in the game—but he was the star. They knew of his performance that afternoon and now they knew he was being elevated to first string varsity. One beautiful blond latched on. “I’ve got a car. Want to come to our pan-sorority party tonight?”
Britt agreed and soon found himself the center of attention at the large campus party. Drinks were flowing (illegally)—and Britt of course indulged. He might be a virgin, but he was not a teetotaler. After an hour of hot dancing—which grew hotter and more erotic with each passing minute, Liz carefully guided him upstairs to her room, placed a bra on the doorknob, and closed and locked the door. “Show me your moves, Britt.”
“I hope I’m not going to disappoint you. I’m not very experienced.”
“That’s even better. I love breaking boys in.” Liz began to unbutton her blouse and slipped out of her micro-mini. She was beautiful: pouty, big-bosomed, slim hipped. Britt raced to remove his shirt and jeans and stood before her with legs akimbo and his erection standing tall in his boxer-briefs. Liz licked her lips, pushed the briefs down and wrapped herself tightly around him. “Wow, you’re a big one. I’m not sure I can take all of that.” He moved her to the bed as he unhooked her bra and slipped his fingers under the elastic of her pink thong. He was incredibly hard and excited. This was a first—he had never had such an aggressive woman in bed. Then she stopped suddenly. “You do have condoms, I presume?”
“No, I don’t. I certainly didn’t expect I’d get so far tonight when I got ready earlier. I didn’t even have a date.”
“I’m sorry, Britt. No condom, no sex. I’m on the pill, but STDs are still a risk. But, Just to prove that I’m not a cock-tease, I’ll give you a blowjob that will keep you until we can try this again.” With that she bent over, took his throbbing erection head into her lipsticked lips and proceeded to give him his first ever oral sex. He warned in time, and of course: she didn’t swallow. Actually, he didn’t think it was such a big deal. He got better orgasms when he did himself. Then they cleaned up and rejoined the party. She didn’t seem angry about the results of the evening, but Britt had a feeling she was not okay. Perhaps he should have reciprocated in some way? He’d have to discuss it with Colin, who seemed to be so worldly-wise on such matters. But, he liked Liz and was ready to take the next steps.
Later, back at the room, Colin and Britt discussed their evenings. Britt described his encounter. At first Colin was quiet; then decided to take the plunge. “Girls, particularly young attractive coeds don’t know how to give blowjobs. They consider it a burden, maybe a gift to the guy—to get something else they want. If you want a real blowjob, find a willing guy. Some guys really get off on blowing partners. Fuck, I’d do you in a flash if it didn’t freak you out.”
Britt was quiet, perhaps upset. “Let me think about it. I’m ready for bed.” So he stripped, did his bathroom necessities and crawled into his twin, placing his hands behind his head—obviously in thought– and rigidly erect.
Colin realized that once again he may have overplayed. What was Britt thinking about? “If you mean it, come over here and help me to get to sleep.” Colin smiled and threw his fist into the air. Yes, it was happening. Colin crossed the room, pulled down the cover and knelt between Britt’s spread legs. He was hard and leaking. Colin bent over, gripped the shaft in one hand while cupping the balls with his other. Then he bent over and swallowed the head and maybe three or four inches. He sucked in his cheeks and used his tongue to circle and tease the head, pushing into the hood as it retracted. Then the tip of his tongue invaded the slit as his hand stroked the shaft and pulled it away from the molten sacs below. Britt levitated from the bed, placed the pads of his feet on the mattress and began to push up into Colin’s moist hot mouth. His hands came down to Colin’s head and he began to fuck Colin’s mouth. Colin was good. He sucked as he withdrew from the shaft, using his tongue to swirl around the sensitive back and just under the corona. Then he used his tongue to push the head into his cheek and stroke its ultra-sensitivity. Britt was near hysteria with pleasure. Obviously, Colin had done this before—with other uncut partners. Britt tapped his head. “I’m cuming.” But Colin didn’t pull off. Instead he sucked harder and allowed his index finger to probe Britt’s taint and rim. Britt rose higher and Colin pushed the tip of his finger into the hole. Britt hissed, beat his fists on the mattress, and exploded into Colin who swallowed all. Britt was totally spent and dropped back to the pillow and mattress. “That was the best orgasm of my life. I could feel it all the way up into my gut and inside my ass.”
Colin smiled. He knew Britt would want more. But, he wasn’t going to push now. And he certainly wasn’t going to ask for reciprocity. There would be second thoughts, he was sure. So he got up, slipped out of his shorts, and returned to his own bed, turning off the lights as he did so. Britt did not realize that Colin had jerked hard into his shorts as Britt had exploded. Colin considered that he was well-ahead of schedule—but he also realized that Britt was about to launch a sexual voyage of discovery with KCS coeds. His looks and success on the field virtually guaranteed this.
********
Morning sun flooded their room with light—there were no window coverings. Colin awoke first and stared over at Britt’s naked form which had wrestled out of the blanket. Colin stared at his beauty—and his incredibly hard morning wood. He was definitely worth the wait. Britt’s eyes opened; he stretched provocatively on the bed, looked at his clock; and jumped up. “I’m late for practice. We’ll talk later.” He quickly pulled on his compression shorts (tucking in his wood which nevertheless showed obscenely), tee, and sneakers—and was out the door in seconds.
Later that day, after dinner, when both guys appeared to be reading for tomorrow’s classes, Britt turned in his desk chair and stared at Colin who was reclining on his bed, nearly nude as was his custom. Colin knew he was about to say something—and feared that Britt regretted the previous day’s encounter. Britt started to speak, but his cell interrupted. It was Liz. She was bored and wondered whether Britt might like to get some ice cream.
Britt accepted and put on a tee and jeans quickly—this time being sure he had condoms in the pocket. Within minutes, Liz met him at the dorm door. Seated behind the wheel, she wore a button-up blouse, but not buttoned too high and tied loosely around her midriff, showing lots of skin, and tight jean shorts. Britt slipped into the car and Liz drove off to nearby Dairy Queen. Britt guessed she wanted to stake a claim before any other coed did so. She was ripe and ready. And so was he. He was going to lose his V-card. And maybe erase some of the confusion he felt over the previous night—with her and with Colin.
They licked their cones in the car, each eyeing the other lasciviously. Then, she casually mentioned that her roommate was away on a biology field trip for two days. Britt didn’t need a formal invitation. He moved from the seat into her space, pushing her into the door with a caress and a deep kiss. His hands went immediately to her full breasts. “Shall we study a bit in your room?” She started the engine and soon they were headed back to campus as her hand stroked his thigh and package. He was hard, very hard, before they even reached the door.
His first hetero sex was far less than he had anticipated. He was a little clumsy, although she seemed to be quite experienced. But he didn’t want to admit to her that he was a virgin, so he acted like this was something he had done before. After only a few minutes of foreplay, both were nearly naked—and he was so hard he was ready to shoot. She was barely ready. But he plunged ahead, wrapped, and penetrated. He pumped a few times, sucked on her engorged nipples, and grabbed her ass. Almost immediately, he exploded into the condom, but she had obviously not reached orgasm. She didn’t even try to fake it. He was a typical macho jock with a quick trigger; but she had tamed guys like him before. “Liz, what can I do for you? That was great.”
“I wouldn’t mind a little tongue on my clit.” So he withdrew, tossed the very full condom to the basket, and bent over to bring her to the finish line. For his first time, he was apparently pretty good. Or perhaps she was a great actress. Soon she was writhing beneath him, running her hands through his hair and grabbing his ears to direct him to the right spots. She pushed up into his face from the bed, shuddered (was that a climax?), and then pulled him up into an embrace. He was quite pleased to be stretched out above her—and his dick was once again hard. But she wasn’t ready for another round. She had staked her claim. He was hooked, she thought. Now it was time to insure that he became really attached to her—and in her experience, that meant conditioning: sometimes she would let him; most of the time she would deny him. So she pushed him off. “I do really need to study now. I presume you can get back to your dorm.” And thus, she dismissed him—but not before giving him a deep tongue-engaged kiss.
The whole experience had taken less than an hour—including the ice cream! Britt had lost his V-card. But, he still had blue balls. And somehow it didn’t seem to be everything he had anticipated. He was pretty sure that these feelings were not normal. Shouldn’t he feel elated—or at least empty and satisfied? Should he have been more demanding and forceful? Did women expect men to take the lead? Or was sex with a girl always like this—ultimately not completely satisfying and leaving him hungry for more?
He walked into the dorm room to find Colin studying on his bed—nude of course. “Well, stud, I guess you did the deed. Was she as good as you expected?”
“Yeah, she is beautiful. But a little fragile. She had trouble taking all of me. I had to go easy. She didn’t get off with me—and didn’t want me to try again. She let me tongue her clit and that seemed to turn her on—or perhaps she was just acting. I think my rep is going to suffer in her sorority. I’m not the stud I thought I was.”
“That’s not my experience. She is going to not-so-subtly let it be known to her sisters that you are terrific in bed and that you are really hung—and that you are hers. I don’t think your rep is going to suffer at all. Girl’s talk about dick size as much as we talk about their tits and asses. But, now you need to be careful. She is going to try to tie you down, to capture you—and maybe give you a little nooky now and then to keep you interested. I bet you’ve got a hard-on right now. She didn’t really empty you, did she?”
“Colin, how do you know all this shit? I haven’t seen you hanging with anybody since you got here. I thought you were a player. You sure talk like one. Yet, now you’re Andy Landers.”
“I’ve been around, boy. I’ve walked on both sides of the street for a few years. And frankly, I prefer our side. Guys know what they want. Other guys do too. No games. No commitment. No worries about being too hard or tough. And no chance of pregnancy. I’m just very careful where and with whom I get it on. I actually prefer townies, females and males. I’ll blow you right now if you want. You don’t even need to shower.”
Colin realized that he had spilled the beans. He had just told Britt he was bi. He had just offered another blow-job—a dirty one at that. Would Britt run?
Britt smiled, unbuttoned and dropped his jeans, pulled his hardening meat out, and stepped up to Colin’s bed. “Here you go, roomie. Do your stuff. My balls are achingly full.”
Colin realized this needed to be good. He was at a cross-roads. Britt would be comparing this experience with the one he had just had with Liz. They had jerked together before. This needed to be the next step. “Drop those jeans. Stretch out on my bed. I’m going to send you to another world.” Britt tore off his tee, wiggled out of his sneakers, dropped the jeans, and lay next to Colin on the small bed. Colin reached over and pulled the dark erection into his mouth by palming and pushing on Britt’s muscled ass cheeks. Carefully, he allowed his finger tips to rest in the crevice. He began to suck and Britt moaned. Colin’s own cock was rigidly extended and in his passion with Britt, his own hips pushed the tip toward Britt, touching his cheek.
Britt’s eyes opened widely and when he realized the 69 position into which he had placed himself. But Colin wasn’t protesting. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Why not? He grabbed the cock and brought it to his lips. His tongue darted out automatically to taste Colin’s pre-cum. Colin was surprised—but very pleased. He sucked harder and one of his fingers penetrated Britt’s hole, reaching the prostate. As he did so, his hips automatically pushed toward Britt. Britt opened and took the head into his mouth and began to use his tongue around the corona. He realized that he was getting and giving—something that he had not felt with Liz. But, this was a guy!
It was too late for thought. Raw hunger took over. Colin was sucking out his cum and pleasuring his prostate—something he barely knew he had. Britt felt the finger stroke his prostate which sent pleasure neurons throughout his tightly muscled body. Within seconds, he was pumping his hips—and thus his cock—into Colin’s wet, warm chamber, leaking prostatic pre-cum. He was fucking Colin’s mouth-pussy! For the second time in less than a week!
Colin was too busy (and too full of Britt’s cockmeat) to speak or warn Britt. But he too was about to explode. He tried to back out of Britt’s mouth, but Britt used his talented hands to grab Colin’s ass cheeks pushing the shaft into his face. He was going to take a load, another first. Colin blasted and Britt swallowed—just as Britt blasted and Colin swallowed. They had achieved simultaneous orgasms—that elusive goal of so much sex. Both fell back, exhausted—but satiated, at least for the next few minutes.
Britt was very pleased with himself. He had two firsts, maybe three that day: he had fucked a beautiful coed; he had sixty-nined with his roommate and tasted his cum; and, he had experienced a prostate orgasm. He remembered the corny line from his mother, “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.” Boy, was she wise! This gave new meaning to a “threefer.”
********
The next weeks were an exciting time for Britt and a time of patient waiting for Colin. Casper’s injuries proved greater than anticipated. He was out for the season. So Britt continued as that unusual freshman on the Varsity squad. He performed well. In fact, the team had a winning season and he was nominated, but didn’t win, MVP for the year—most likely because the other nominees were all seniors and potential NFL late draft picks. They needed it more than he did—and he had three more years to achieve that goal. But he was a celebrity on campus—and even the local press ran a few stories about him, one with a picture of him bulked up in his uniform—looking fierce and definitely alpha and hetero.
After his experience with Liz, as Colin had predicted, she subtly let it be known that he was not only handsome, considerate, and gentle, he was hung. The rumors, together with his outstanding football performances, were making him a catch, possibly one of the most popular guys in his class. He therefore enjoyed a long string of conquests—and he began to share them with his teammates, thus solidifying his rep as a cocksman and a wing man for the squad. But, none of them, including Liz, became a “regular date.” And none of them ever drained him of all his sexual energy. He was always turned on. He was a spunk factory, ready to deliver whenever and wherever a “customer” might need or want it.
No one even suspected his “extra-curricular” plays with Colin. But in his own mind, Britt was definitely hetero. He just needed more relief right now than coeds could or would provide. So he used Colin.
Just before Thanksgiving, he was invited to pose for the KCS “hunk calendar”—by the Pan-Sorority Society. He was Mr. July, muscles pumped, and posed in a skimpy yellow bikini on a truck bed of sweet corn. He had massive chest muscles and a deeply-cut eight-pack which the photographer enhanced with a bit of oil and careful lighting. The bikini did little to hide his massive equipment. He would be jack off material for many—and not only during July. Of course, everyone knew that there were two target audiences: gay men and sorority sisters. Several of the former hit on Britt in the next few weeks, but he carefully and politely rebuffed them. He wasn’t gay.
Britt and Colin continued their casual nudity and sex encounters. Often, Britt would return late from a date, not entirely satisfied since the beautiful coed on his arm was often reluctant because of his size—body and cock. He often could not convince her to give him a decent blowjob. They never swallowed. Occasionally, when they got naked and in bed, she objected to his size and complained that he “hurt” her with a too violent or quick entry into her pussy without sufficient foreplay—which inevitably caused him to prematurely spunk. Rarely did he get a second chance. On those evenings, Colin was ready to commiserate and to provide services. Colin gave terrific blowjobs—and always swallowed, often with some anal stimulation. Increasingly, Britt came to prefer sixty-nine with a little anal boost. For as often as Colin remarked that he loved going down on Britt, Britt felt indebted, that he owed something to Colin. Sixty-nine was mutually satisfying—with no guilt.
And Colin just waited. He didn’t broadcast his gayness. He didn’t join the LGTBQ+ Society. He didn’t want to provide any food for the gossip mill—after all, he was the roommate of one of the BMOCs, a definite hetero. He knew Britt would want more soon. But he also knew that an alpha like Britt would have recriminations if his first anal sex was the result of a seduction, particularly if he were drunk when it happened. Britt needed to want it and initiate it. And he needed to be sober—or almost.
So both guys went home to families for Thanksgiving week. Britt was a changed boy. He had put on nearly twenty pounds of muscle. His football star status had earned him a tutor (since Colin never materialized as the roommate tutor that administration had hoped). He was a mini-celebrity among college football fans. He had had a string of beautiful female conquests. And he had had a seductive taste of man on man sex. He had a lot to think about—and a week alone to do so. His only bud in high school was “stuck” at Pomona in California—the holiday was too short and the airfare too great and, of course, Britt had no female friends waiting for him. So he had a lot of time to think. And a lot of time to jack. By the end of the week, he realized that he missed Colin. Colin had become his best friend—and he always had his best orgasms when he played with Colin. He knew Colin was bi. Was he?
They returned to the most intense time of the year—a few final weeks of classes, with term papers due, and exams before Christmas break. Football practice had ended—KCS was not invited to any bowls, needless to say. So Britt spent most of every day studying in the dorm room, except for meals and his cherished hour and half workout before dinner. Colin was also often there. He had been threatened: flunk out first semester and we’re going to cut your allowance to almost nothing—until you get back in full time. Academic probation was not an option.
Fortunately, Colin was not dumb—just lazy and uninterested in academic subjects. Britt didn’t want to lose a roommate, and he had an idea. By this point, Britt knew that Colin lusted after his bod and salivated over the opportunity to blow him. “We can finish each day with sex—but only if you clock six hours of solid study.” This was a powerful incentive for Colin—Britt was initiating the sex—and he wasn’t very specific about what “sex” meant. In just three weeks, he managed to complete a semester’s work. He was expecting B’s and C’s across the board—not Dean’s List, but acceptable.
And each evening, they ended in one of the two small beds. Since he was studying intensely, Britt stopped dating. Natural hormones had him aroused all the time. He sucked (and was sucked) harder and harder—often several times a night. Colin went from one to two to three fingers stimulating the prostate and pinching the taint. And Britt started mimicking everything Colin did. Soon he had three deep inside Colin’s chute. Sixty-nine had progressed to mutual finger fucking with explosive orgasmic results.
It was Saturday night. They had returned from dinner and decided that this was to be a night off. So they had managed to get a cold six pack. Only a few days were left before Christmas break—and each had turned in all required papers. Each had only one exam coming up. They sat on Colin’s bed and Colin dialed up some porn which just happened to be MMF. After watching for a few minutes, they were both hard. Colin turned and looked into Britt’s eyes, “This is really hot. What would you say if I asked you to fuck me? I really want it.” Without waiting for an answer, he stretched out on the bed on his belly, spread his legs, and, wiggling his ass, pushed it up toward Britt. He reached under the pillow and handed Britt the lube. “You’re really big. Use lots of this to get me ready.” He wasn’t asking really; he was merely voicing the obvious that each of them presumably had been thinking about.
Britt paused and was silent, obviously conflicted: he wanted to be inside someone right now and blow his wad, but Colin was a man. If he accepted, did he become gay? And if he didn’t, would Colin decide on a different roommate next semester? Colin thought that again he had over-played. But he was wrong. Britt reached over and began to separate Colin’s ass cheeks, staring for the first time into that hairless pink star that seemed to wink in welcome to him. He lubed his index finger and began to penetrate. Colin moaned, “That feels so good.” Colin knew from their 69 experiences that he could get several fingers in—and he knew exactly where Colin’s love nut was located. He got up between Colin’s legs and began to stroke. Soon he had three fingers deep inside and the lube had been pushed deep. Colin was obviously aroused and ready. “Put him in, roomie. I’ve been waiting all semester.”
Britt was hard beyond belief. And he wasn’t going to get any relief unless he followed through. The siren call of the asshole finally broke his reserve. Yes, he was going to do this—and worry about labels later. “Get on your knees, babe, and spread those thighs. I know I’m clean. I always wrap. How about you?”
“I’m clean.”
“Good. I’m going in bareback. I’m gonna plow the shit out of that pretty bubble ass.” Britt knelt behind Colin and with one hand steadied him as he began to push his large bulb into the small opening. Colin breathed deeply, relaxed his muscles, and Britt popped in and froze. He was in heaven. He couldn’t believe how tight—but Colin wasn’t complaining. Minutes later, Colin began to push back into Britt so Britt penetrated farther. Colin’s chute felt like a cunt, but Colin knew how to use his ass muscles to work Britt’s cock. The feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced. He touched the prostate with his dickhead and Colin hissed.
“Yes, that’s it. Do it again.”
It took a full ten minutes before Britt was balls to balls with Colin—partly because Colin needed to adjust to Britt’s enormous size, but also because Britt needed to avoid ending it all with a premature ejaculation. “I’m gonna do some pumping now, bro. Let me know if it hurts—too much.” So Britt began using his powerful hips and thighs to drive and pull, drive and pull, lubing more at each withdrawal. He was getting deeper and stretching the chute. Then he bottomed. Soon Colin was nearly shouting his pleasure. This was the best Britt had ever had. He could never be this rough with a girl. She’d scream rape, even if she had initiated the encounter. He was a big guy, a tough guy, and he enjoyed not having to hold back his aggressive nature. His balls felt full, almost to the bursting point, and his stuff was boiling hot.
“I’m really close, Colin.”
“Do it inside. I want your cum inside. Grab my dick. I want to cum with you and in your fist.”
Britt continued to piston—while he began a rapid stroke of Colin’s rock hard cock. Suddenly, he threw his legs back and stretched, deepening the penetration and tightening the connection. Britt felt the same exhilaration he felt when he stretched to grab a ball and run. Colin collapsed onto the bed. Britt fell with him, tensed his ass muscles and spasmed and shot. Then he felt Colin’s explosion into his fist as the two guys matched shot after shot. He was totally covering Colin, capturing him within his powerful thighs and arms. Colin turned his head and Britt dipped down and took his lips. This was his first man-kiss. Britt was hooked. Now he knew what he had missed. He needed to be powerful. He needed to be hard. He needed to explode inside without fear of hurting a partner—or getting her pregnant. He needed his partner to travel with him to paradise—not to fake it or to need other kinds of stimulation to orgasm. And if that partner needed to be a man, so be it.
Several minutes later, as Britt’s cock began to withdraw from the tight hole, he rose from the bed. Colin flipped onto his back and held his arms out to Britt. Britt stepped into them and Colin pulled him into an embrace. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. I think I’m in love, big guy.”
“I’m not sure where this is going. But, I agree with you. I’m going to be planting seeds in that hole for a long time. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to go again. I’ve never felt so good about a fuck—and after a fuck.”
Colin pulled him tight and again their lips met. This time Britt invaded with his tongue and sucked hard on Colin’s lips. Minutes later, he pulled off and looking at Colin, “Look at yourself in the mirror. You’re no longer a thin-lipped New Englander. You’re all puffy.”
“I suspect that another part of me is puffy too.”
“But you’re my puffy. That puffy is mine.”
Both guys broke into belly laughs. The seriousness of the moment was broken. Don’t take it too seriously. It’s only sex—and very good sex. Colin had won his wager with himself. It was not yet Christmas, but he already had his best present. It was dripping out of his ass. And, he was pretty sure that this was not an isolated event—or even one which Britt would regret. Britt was already rock hard again and just about ready to unpack another gift inside Colin.
Colin had been Britt’s best tutor after all. He had taught him to expand the ideas of what he really wanted in life and sex.
And, by the way, both guys ended up with mostly B’s that semester. Colin later told his family that Britt had been his incentive to achieve (without providing the intimate details of the challenge). And so Colin’s family, including the nearby uncle-thoroughbred-breeder, gladly began to welcome Britt into their family over the next several vacations. He was a good influence on their bad boy.
Colin and Britt remained roommates for the rest of the year and continued to experiment with their sexuality. Colin went out for baseball and made the team. So he was catching—all the time, in the field at first base and in bed which he now regularly shared with Britt. Perhaps this would be longer term. And perhaps Colin had more to teach. BD