Accepting the Petey Within

By ten.emohtfos@ecifetra

Published on Dec 2, 2020

Gay

Disclaimers

This story is a work of fiction. It contains descriptions of sexual contact between males. If you are not of legal age to read such material, or if you find this subject offensive, please leave and do not read on. Safer sex techniques (i.e., use of condoms, etc.) have not been included for the sake of storytelling technique. Real life, however, is not storytelling; and condoms should be used without fail during anal intercourse and other high-risk activities (even you boys on PrEP and you undetectable guys).

All rights reserved. This story is copyrighted by the author and commercial use is prohibited without the express permission of the author. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

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The author would appreciate any comments or questions you might have about the story. Constructive criticism preferred. Please contact artefice@softhome.net.

Accepting the Petey within, part five - fraternity life, my boy, 3 of 2 (a bonus)

I walk up next to his chair.

"Could I please get you another beer?" Inwardly praying he will get the obvious hint. He does not.

"Huh?" is all he can muster. Ball in my court.

"It seems you enjoyed the first beer. Thought you might enjoy another round. Perhaps an ale, this time; so, you can enjoy the full body?" I can't believe I am trying to ply this jock with a beer euphemism for fucking the shit out of me. I should have stayed in my room and finished the job myself; but, settling for less than maximum fulfillment has never been my forte – and my hands alone simply are not doing the trick today.

I guess confusion is the best descriptor for the look on his face, which – now that I actually look at it – is mildly attractive with a light dusting of freckles on his cheeks that bring out the boy in him. Focus, Pete.

"Why don't you come with me and I'll show you what we have to offer?"

I'm still not certain he is in the game, but he gets up and follows me – which is all the response I need.

Once again, through the kitchen and into the pantry. All the way to the back, turn around, on my knees. Hands on both sides of his sweats, I lower them and his jock to his ankles (he would definitely need a little more mobility this time around). I know there is a chance I might spook him if I move too fast, so I go back to what worked before. I bury his prick in my mouth. Love 20-year-olds. Very short refractory period. Only a minute or two of expert fellatio and my soon-to-be fucker is hard and ready to go.

I figure he'll last a little longer this time around, but I don't want to chance a repeat quickie, so I reluctantly pull my mouth off of his quarter roll and attend to his gumballs, since I missed that chance the last time. His girlfriend must have a nut allergy, as he responds to my licking, then sucking, then taking each ball into my mouth separately and tugging, then taking both of his balls into my mouth and caressing them with my tongue and chewing lightly with my teeth, with actual moaning. I look up and that soft moan accompanies a tilting back of his head. A very good sign.

Without removing my mouth from his balls, I slip my shorts completely off. His head is someplace else, so I doubt he is even aware. I move back and forth from his balls to his prick, remembering to leave a little extra saliva on his manhood so I can jerk him with my fist as I tease his balls with my tongue. His moans grow louder and I know he is mine. I lube two of my fingers with my spit and transfer it to my puckered hole. I catch myself enjoying a quick self finger-fuck and pull myself back to the matter at hand and in mouth – my redhead's slicked-up boner, which is now at full directional-arrow mast.

With almost no break in the action, I continue to fist his rod with my right hand while I turn my back to him and climb onto the side shelving. I revised the shelving myself since moving in and the second shelf from the floor is just slightly below average crotch level. With knees and feet on each side, my ass is widely exposed – the perfect position for the deep fucking I need.

I lean forward and steady myself with my left hand on the back shelf in front of me. I tug him by his prick and he takes a step forward, so I can guide his prick to my ready rosebud. I leave him there for a couple of seconds, hoping he will take the initiative and thrust forward, but my redheaded bag of bolts must not have read the memo and I have to steady his cock with my right hand and push my butt back over his swollen head and down onto the base of his pole.

Finally, he gets the message and takes control. He pulls out about half-way and pump fucks me with the wide base part of his prick. It feels thicker than I had expected. Guess he does know how to make the most of his quarters. I am able to tilt my pelvis, which causes his engorged dickhead to brush up against my prostate with each inward thrust. I decide to leave him to his own devices.

After hilt fucking me, he pulls almost completely out and deep fucks me with the entire length of his rod. He finds his rhythm which causes my heavy, unsupported ball sack to swing back and forth in sync. I still need to support myself with my left hand, but my right hand is free to explore. I find each nipple in turn and, as per my wont, take each one a little too far. He draws my attention back to him when he pulls out and proceeds to fuck my anal sphincter with just his mushroom head. I think to myself that this must drive his girlfriend crazy, since it is causing my anus to spastically tighten around his dickhead.

When I hear my redhead's breathing grow faster, I change focus and grab my dicklet (yes, we'll get back to that, too). I need to shoot my load first, so that he can feel my ass contracting around his cock as he pumps in and out of me – I'm guessing this straight guy has never gotten that from his girlfriend, and I am here to please.

I stroke in time to his thrusts and bring myself to the edge, then wait. The only sound is his pelvis slapping against my ass. His pace increases and a second moan pierces the silence and I know he is there. He thrusts forward and jams his prick all the way into my straining hole. I have to join him now.

Two well-rehearsed strokes and I am there. I can feel his prick stiffen and shoot inside me, as my sphincter spasms around his gun. My timing is damn-near perfect and I almost match him shot for spasm. He buries his six spurts of seed deep inside me; I cast mine on the pantry floor.

It takes several seconds for us both to come down; but then, I spring into action. I ease my ass off his cock, quickly climb down off the shelving, turn and kneel in front of him. I pull his jock and sweatpants to his upper thigh, so he can reach them without having to bend over. He pulls them up, but not as frantically as I anticipate. In fact, he stands there and waits for me to pull on my shorts. He clearly is at a loss for words, so I complete the circle: "Let me get you that ale. You certainly know how to work a full body." Ouch.

With that, he turns and walks back to the same chair in the common room. True to my word, I grab an ale from the fridge and bring it to him.

"Thanks, Petey" he says. He says.

"Anytime," I answer – truthfully.

He reaches over and – to my surprise – turns on the light on the table with a built-in pole lamp.

"I fixed the plug while you were upstairs."

Pete, do not fall in love with this straight boy.

Author's note: I can't thank you enough for reading. Comments, suggestions, encouragement welcome. artefice@softhome.net

Next: Chapter 6


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