BBC on Campus

By Colton

Published on Aug 8, 2015

Gay

My usual disclaimers:

  • My experiences are in everything I write, sometimes an image that I recall, sometimes much more. This story, however, is fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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  • This work is copyright by the author. Commercial use is prohibited without permission. Please do not republish any parts of this story without consent of the author.

  • This story depicts unprotected sex. In real-life, be safe!

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BBC ON CAMPUS

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – SCOT SLUT SUB SURFACES

The cowboy staring at me in Marco's was barely old enough to drink. If he was that old. Marco's had a relaxed policy on checking IDs for their regulars. On the table in front of the cowboy was the same Scottish ale micro-brew I drank. We were probably the only people in the bar ordering it. Marco's was a Pabst Blue Ribbon kind of place, Coors Light for a special occasion.

Either the kid was curious about the anomaly of a 6'5" black man with long dreadlocks, broad shoulders and a narrow waist showing up in a cowboy bar in rural Montana, or he was intrigued by me because of the black python stuffed in my pants, and willing to risk cruising me in a straight bar to get it. Halfway through my conversation with Ben, the guy sat down a couple of tables away. He watched Ben and me closely, but I chalked up his interest to a desire to get a blow job from Ben, Marco's known and notorious cocksucker. But after Ben drove his Porsche into the night, the kid was still staring, so the odds were good that I was the object of the kid's desire.

The guy had longish brown hair that curled over his ears and fell over his forehead, almost to his eyes. He had the long nose and straight jawline that were two of my weaknesses. His creamy skin didn't look like it seen much sun. He was damn pale for a cowboy.

If he was a cowboy. As I looked closer, I ruled out the possibility. Only his cowboy hat and jeans were right. Instead of cowboy boots he was wearing hikers, and rather than a flannel shirt he sported a hoody T-shirt with a wide neck that showed plenty of shoulders and a smooth chest.

"What are you staring at?" I asked, a touch of belligerence in my voice.

"You," the kid said matter-of-factly, an eager smile crossing his lips. I had been prepared to respond with a quick, "Fuck off," but I paused. The guy's honesty was disarming. Most men would have been embarrassed to be caught staring and would have claimed they were studying the vintage railroad poster on the wall behind me or, more likely, denied they were looking at all.

The guy's accent also grabbed my attention, sending me in a direction I hadn't planned. Rather than `fuck off,' I instead asked, "Where are you from?" On the American-Canadian-British-Aussie-Cockney accent scale, the kid's accent was past British and even Aussie. At Harvard, I had fucked three-quarters of a foursome from Sydney, so I knew it wasn't a down under accent, but I couldn't place it.

"Edinburgh," the guy said, adding, "Scotland." I wondered how a kid from Edinburgh had stumbled into Montana in December. Maybe for the sun. As far north as Montana was, it still got an hour and a half more daylight in December than Scotland.

The kid looked like a college student, and that might explain his presence. Westcliffe had an exchange program with some universities in the U.K. and Europe, and students would swap places for a semester. But even if the Scot boy was at Westcliffe, that still wouldn't account for his presence in Marco's. The bar wasn't a college hangout and was filled with cowboys as usual. We were likely the only guys in the bar that didn't ride a horse day in and day out.

It was late enough that the Scot twink and I were the only people in the small alcove of a dozen tables that passed for Marco's dining room. Country Western music blared in the bar area, but in the dining room you could still have a conversation without shouting. "How'd you get here?" I asked.

The kid blushed slightly and shrugged. "I'm at Westcliffe for semester, but I'm staying at a ranch up the road. A couple of the ranch hands said there was a guy here who was a great cocksucker. I'm usually into other things than getting me cock sucked, but I figured, why not?' and came with them." The guy paused slightly when he mentioned other things' and gave me a slight smile. A straight man would have thought nothing of it, indeed interpreting the phrase to mean the Scot was interested in fucking pussy rather than getting a blow job from a guy. I knew better.

While I was horned up, the long night of hearing Ben's story left me tired and not in the mood for sex. Nevertheless, the guy was cute and his accent was cool. He was built like a swimmer. Being Scottish, maybe he played soccer. If the circumstances had been different, I would have taken him to the john and fucked his brains out. But I was getting plenty of twink ass, and the circumstances were what they were, so I just nodded, not acting on the guy's hints. I let the conversation lapse into silence, taking a drink of my beer.

"You're a tall drink of chocolate milk," the kid said, breaking the quiet. I almost burst out laughing at the comment, but the guy's Scottish accent made me uncertain I heard him right. "I saw you talking to the cocksucker," he pressed. "But you didn't use his mouth. Blow jobs not to your liking? Maybe looking for something else?"

"I'm not looking for anything," I replied, draining my beer and getting up to leave.

Disappointment flickered on the kid's smooth face. I thought about the reality that, with final exams, Travis was in a rare weed-free spell and Jesse was preoccupied studying. I was not likely to get much rock climber ass over the next ten days, and I had missed the opportunity to dump a load into Ben's mouth or fuck his ass. Maybe a nice, unexpected piece of twink ass would come in handy after all. But not tonight.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Jim," the kid replied, his disappointment dissolving into hope.

"Let me guess," I said, crossing to the kid's table. I put both hands on the table, leaning down and staring at him, taking full advantage of my height. "You're into different things than getting your cock sucked. Like getting your ass fucked. You bottom, and you're not finding much cock in Montana to fill your pussy. Your ranch hand buddies not into getting off in your tight hole?"

The kid blushed, but I could tell I had read him exactly right. I didn't doubt that he would have loved getting his butt fucked in the ranch barn by an entire parade of cowboys. He just hadn't gone as far as offering his ass up in the right way. I had an image of the kid bent over a bale of hay, bottoming for a big, wiry cowboy wearing boots and a six-gallon hat, while an array of cowpokes stood in a circle, stroking their cocks and waiting for their turn at the kid's fuck chute.

"And," I continued, "You're thinking that a guy talking all night to Marco's resident cocksucker might be open to pounding your ass, and that getting butt fucked by a big black cock would be the perfect highlight of your stay in America?"

"Precisely," the kid said earnestly, nodding. I stifled a smile. I liked the guy's honestly. Liked it a lot. Life's too short to lie to yourself. The guy's accent was interesting, too, and he had good taste in beer.

On the spur of the moment, I came up with a wild amalgamation of the kid's fantasies as a challenge for him. "Be careful what you wish for, boy," I said. "I'll give you what you want. Exactly what you want. Not tonight. A week from now. But I like wet, juicy boi pussies that already have been used and opened up wide enough to take my big black cock. So in a week, get one of your student friends or one of your ranch buddies to fuck your ass. Then plug your hole with a big, fat butt plug to keep the cum inside and your hole stretched wide. You're not allowed to cum yourself while you're getting fucked or at any time over the next week. Text me when you're ready. Be prepared for a long, long night of rough fucking. Understand?"

The kid's eyes got bigger and bigger as I spoke. But when I finished, he never hesitated, saying, "Yes, sir!" My Scot boi was submissive, I thought. And ready. Thinking about sending Ben off to be trained as a sub had gotten me thinking about how much I missed having a good sub. Jesse was a close substitute, but he wasn't a natural. I nodded, turned around and left the bar, not looking back.

I assumed I would never hear from Jim again. What I had ordered the young Scot to do was outlandish. He could easily have pulled off my instructions in Chicago or New York, but in rural Montana? Hell, he wasn't likely to have carted a butt plug from Scotland, which meant he might have to drive all the way across the state to find one. And while I suspected more gay sex occurred in ranch land than most people thought, it would be hard to arrange on the spur of the moment. But even if the kid could pull it off, would he back out when push came to shove?

Having discounted the possibility that I would hear from Jim and forgotten about telling him to text me, I was surprised to get a text exactly a week after seeing him in Marco's. "Ready, sir!" he wrote. "I want to please you. I am so excited." Never underestimate what a good sub can accomplish when he's ordered to do something, with sex as a reward.

I debated where to meet Jim. I was in the mood for a change of scenery from my room above the old gas station housing the six rock climbers, each studying intently for exams. Fucking Jim in the rest room at Marco's might be interesting, but it was a long drive, and I had spent enough time listening to Country Western music there last week that I didn't relish another visit anytime soon. Fucking Trent and Kent in my office had been hot, but with exam week having descended, some of the faculty members might be in the office building. And while outdoor sex was always exciting, it was out of the question on a December night in Montana.

Recalling how Stewart had looked, bound in duct tape with `cum dump' written on his ass and dumped in front of my gym locker, I settled on the gym. Unlikely many people would be around during exam week, and if some guys were trying to relieve exam stress by working out, isolated corners of the gym existed. I texted Jim instructions to meet me at 9:00 p.m.

Jim was outside the front door of the gym when I arrived a few minutes after 9:00. His blue eyes sparkled with excitement. At Marco's he had been sitting, but standing at the front door I could size him up better. He was average height – about 5'9" – and on the slender side, maybe 130 pounds. He wore a thick tartan jacket. Very Scottish.

I wanted to confirm he followed my instructions. "Butt plug?" I asked.

"Yes, sir!" Jim replied.

"Show me," I demanded.

"Here?" Jim asked. The entrance to the gym was quiet but the place wasn't empty. At any time someone could come through the doors. I clenched my jaws and folded my hands across my chest, letting Jim know I wasn't pleased to have my instructions questioned. His eyes darted to each side before he turned around, quickly pulling his jeans and underwear down.

A fucking awesome ass stared at me. Jim's smooth ass cheeks were split by a giant black disk. Damn, I thought. If Jim's butt plug was anywhere near the size of the base, the thing was massive. My cock stirred a bit at the thought of ramming a wide open pussy, basted in cum.

I reached forward and ran a finger down his ass crack, slipping it under the disk of the butt plug. It was wet and lubed, suggesting Jim had indeed taken load up his ass earlier in the night. My hand circled below his ass, reaching between his legs and cupping his smooth, hairless balls, making the young Scot gasp in anticipation. I gave them a tight squeeze, just hard enough to verge on being uncomfortable. I felt the rigid base of the boy's cock, his pole shoved into his stomach. My big ass pounder began to stiffen in anticipation of using the amazing pale white ass crack in front of me.

"Okay," I said, giving Jim permission to pull his underwear and jeans up. He quickly dressed, turning around. His curly brown hair was disheveled, and his pale face was flushed, either from embarrassment, excitement or exertion. Fuck, the kid was cute. He would be even cuter with his lips circling my dick.

"You wank yourself or cum for the last week?" I asked.

Jim shook his head. "Couple of times I almost had a wet dream, but I woke up in time," he said. "It was difficult, thinking about tonight."

"Carrying a cum load in your ass?" I asked.

"Nine, sir," Jim announced.

"What?" I asked sharply. With Jim's accent, at first I thought he said, `none.'

"Nine, sir," Jim repeated. What the fuck? Nine loads? Seeing my questioning look, Jim launched into an explanation. "Dallas, the ranch hand I went to Marco's with last week, had been getting serviced regularly by the bloke you talked to at Marco's – the loo cocksucker. But the bloke hasn't been in Marco's for a week and Dallas told me this morning he was horny as hell. I told Dallas I had a tight hole he could use to get off, but it wasn't my mouth. He got really mad and slammed me into the wall and was ready to punch me in the face before he took off. I assumed my only option then was to come to Westcliffe, because I heard there was a loo in the basement of engineering that was cruisy.

"But Dallas thought about it all day and changed his mind. When he got back to the bunkhouse he pushed me into the bunkhouse shower and told me to bend over and shut my mouth. My arse was tight because it hasn't been getting used, but Dallas liked it. Said my bumhole was better than the mouth of the cocksucker in Marco's. He didn't take too long – the first time – but before he finished the rest of the blokes who live in the bunkhouse showed up.

"I heard them talking in the hallway, but when they saw Dallas ramming his cock up my arse, the conversation died. Dallas didn't give a shit that they were watching. He was getting close and wanted to climax. He snarled and said, `I'm gonna cum in your fucking ass, bitch.' He rammed into me really hard and made me hit my head on the shower wall, but I could feel his cum dumping into my hole.

"One of the other blokes said, `I could use me a piece of that, too,' and pulled his cock out and started stroking it. Once that happened, the rest of the ranch hands did the same thing. Six guys used me, but Dallas and two of the others did me twice. So nine loads. I got the butt plug in as soon as I could, sir. I bought it in Missoula the day after we talked at Marco's."

It occurred to me that those cowboys owed me a big tip, or maybe a finder's fee.

This was turning out much better than I had envisioned. Not only was Jim's ass hot, it held nine loads from six sex-starved cowboys, along with a giant butt plug that ensured I could power fuck the Scot slut without having to work to get my big black monster inside the boy's fuck chute. My dick, already aroused by Jim's ass crack, began to press against my jeans, restlessly announcing its presence.

I motioned to Jim to follow me. We walked through the locker rooms, but several guys were changing. I heard clangs from the weight room and knew it was occupied so I didn't bother to check it out. Same problem with the treadmills and exercise bikes, as the whine of the machines could be heard from outside the room. There was always the sauna or the steam room, but given how long I planned to plow Jim's bubble butt, added heat was a nonstarter. I remembered how stiflingly hot it had been in the gas station the first time I had fucked Jesse's ass. Not pleasant.

A couple of the handball courts were occupied, too, and with their glass rear walls they didn't offer a viable alternative. A game of five-on-five was underway on the basketball court. The space under the bleachers might work in a pinch, though. Finally, I tried the pool. It was deserted, and more importantly, held a sign saying it closed at 9:30, in less than a half hour. Perfect. We stepped in inside, and using my gym key I locked the door behind us and doused the bright overhead lights. The gym staff would think someone else had already closed the pool. I would have as long as I wanted to use the Scot boy's ass.

I pulled Jim toward me, almost picking him off the floor as I grabbed his ass with both hands and plunged my tongue into his mouth. Through the rear of his jeans, I could feel the disk of the butt plug buried in his hole. Jim put his arms around my shoulders, pulling himself up. "You're never going to see a swimming pool without remembering getting bred by my big black cock and getting your ass seeded," I said. "You're gonna feel my dick in your pussy every time you smell chlorine!"

"God, yes, that's what I want," Jim mumbled. There was his refreshing honesty again. The kid liked sex and wasn't afraid to admit it.

"Get those clothes off," I ordered. Jim stripped in record time. With only the pool lights and dim security lights, his pale skin glowed in the dark and almost made him look like a ghost. A ghost with a surprisingly large, rock-hard cock pointing to the ceiling. Jim had to be at least seven inches. The shaft was slim like Jim's body, but the cut head of his cock was like a mushroom. Juxtaposed next to Jim's slender body, his cock was eye catching.

I was ready to explore my first piece of Scottish ass and pulled my clothes off too. Jim gasped as he saw my thick black pole and balls. His eyes were riveted on my junk, but he was about to get a close up view. I grabbed a handful of his hair and shoved his face into my crotch. I was ready for a hot, wet mouth to service me and get my cock ready for the main act.

The boy didn't have to be told what to do. He licked and sucked my rod, rolled both balls into his mouth, and stuck his tongue deep into my hole, rimming me. Unlike most guys who suck, Jim knew how to work the sensitive region between my hole and my balls, using both hands along with his mouth. He struggled to get my cock down his throat, but managed to swallow most of it. I was tempted to let him eat my first load, but his butt-plugged ass was too tempting.

I pushed Jim onto a low diving board, on his stomach, and began to work the butt plug out of his hole. I had to move it side-to-side and jiggle it back and forth, but soon Jim's gaping hole was exposed. A trickle of cum ran from his ass. Well, more than a trickle. The chlorine smell of the pool was suddenly mixed with the heady aroma of cowboy cum.

The kid had an awesome looking hole. His entire body was smooth, including his butt. His asshole was framed by pale pink skin that darkened slightly as it puckered toward his fuck chute. Stretched by the giant butt plug, Jim's hole was gaping. It looked like the mouth of a cave, dark and inviting. Like a tunnel begging my cock to fill it. If ever a hole was made to be fucked, it was Jim's.

I couldn't resist slipping a finger inside the Scot boy. His ass was like velvet and I could feel the hot, wet loads of spunk he had taken earlier. His prostate was big and soft, and as I fingered it, Jim let out soft gasps and groans. I pulled my dripping finger from his pussy and shoved it in Jim's mouth. He eagerly lapped up the cowboy cock stew.

Jim's soggy boi cunt, spread wide for my bull cock, sent a spark through my balls and dick. It didn't take much to get my cock ready. Spreading Jim's legs on either side of the diving board, I pushed forward. I kept expecting Jim to flinch as my cock invaded his hole, but the huge butt plug had opened him up enough that my cock slipped in, with the ideal amount of resistance and tightness. Given Jim's slender, lithe body, it didn't seem possible, but his stretched hole was perfect for my big monster. At least perfect after being ripped open by six ranch-hand cocks and kept spread by a big butt plug. It was like a fitted glove slipping on a big hand. Jim let out excited and happy moans as I filled his boi pussy.

I don't recommend fucking on a diving board. Every time I thrust my black rod into Jim's white dick glove, the board bounced slightly, and it was difficult to get into the right rhythm. The board had some advantages, however, because occasionally it would rebound just as I was driving down into Jim's ass, so the board pushed Jim upward in a way that impaled him on my cock better than I could have done without its help.

My balls let it be known that they were going to explode whether I was ready or not. I plunged my cock into Jim's ass in rapid fire succession and one of the most intense orgasms I had felt in months ripped through my balls and cock. I made one final thrust into Jim's Scot hole and pumped round after round of cum into him.

Panting, I stayed inside Jim's bung hole for a long time. I wanted to keep the boy's pussy in just the form it had been in when I pulled the butt plug from his ass, so before I let him up, I reinserted the butt plug. Then I fed him my cock, making him slurp down the mélange of ball juice that coated my fuck stick. Jim's blue eyes gazed up at me, his cock rock hard.

The kid was probably close to blue balls if, as I had ordered, he hadn't cum for a week. His cock was leaking pre-cum like a natural spring, clear liquid oozing from his piss slit constantly. A long string had reached the floor. I thought about telling Jim to whack off, but I like it if guys have stiff dicks when I use their holes. Jim was a horny little fucker, so a good chance existed that he would stiffen up again, but why take the chance?

I sat down on the diving board and let Jim mouth my dick and deep throat me. A couple of times I grabbed his head in both hands and face fucked him, but the kid knew how to suck, so most of the time I let him work on his own. He looked up at me, his blue eyes glistening in the reflection of the pool lights. I kept thinking about the butt plug in the kid's ass and the awesome way his ass felt, clamped around my dick. I was horned up enough that in only ten or fifteen minutes I blasted my second load into Jim's eager mouth. He swallowed every drop, continuing to nurse me softly.

Jim may have thought I was done after getting a load in each hole. Fat chance. I wanted that butt-plugged hole again. I stood up, slapping my hard cock across Jim's pale face three or four times. The kid's eyes were just as eager as they had been when I met him outside the gym. Of course, he hadn't cum yet, so that might have explained it.

I backed Jim to a high scorer's table and lifted him onto the table. It was the perfect height to kiss, and I ravaged him, plunging my tongue into his mouth and grinding my thick lips against his thin white ones. My dreadlocks spilled over Jim's pale shoulders. Jim's legs were wrapped around my hips, but I lifted his legs, continuing to kiss him so that he had to bend forward as I put his ankles on my shoulders. With a little tug, I pulled his ass almost off the table. But, more importantly, I could grab the butt plug and rip it out of Jim's hot fuck chute with my cock ready to replug him.

I had to be quick. Pulling the butt plug out with Jim in this position risked a flood of cowboy cum leaking from Jim's ass. That meant my cock needed to cork Jim's hole almost as soon as the butt plug came out. Jim clung to my shoulders, kissing me, as I manipulated the plug with one hand and my rigid black stud buster with the other.

I wasn't totally successful. As soon as I wrestled the butt plug from Jim's ass, the pent up pressure of ten loads forced a loud splat of cum to hit the floor. I recovered in time to ram my dick into Jim's fuck chute before any more cum escaped. The Scot could lick the mess on the floor up later.

I moved my arms to Jim's hips and slowly pulled away from the table, holding him with only my arms and my fuck stick. Jim's arms were flexed as he clung to my shoulders, continuing to kiss me. I controlled Jim's body with my arms, lifting him slightly as I pulled out of his hole, but then dropping him back down as I thrust upwards. It wasn't a position I could hold all day, but Jim was only 130 pounds, so it was manageable. I love it when a guy's own weight skewers his ass on my cock.

Loud smacking sounds were echoing in the pool as I powered into Jim's dripping boi cunt. I eventually had to move back to the table to support Jim's weight, but his ass was in the perfect position and height for me to plow it. The pale Scot continued to cling to my shoulders and kiss me as we fucked. "Fuck me!" he gasped. "I've never been fucked like this before." I hope not. A big black cock about to deliver an eleventh load in a guy's ass doesn't happen every day.

It is harder to climax when standing up, but with Jim's velvet hole massaging my ramrod as I pumped in and out, my climax built rapidly. Holding Jim's hips as I thrust upward one last time, my nut exploded into the fuck boi.

Time had not been kind to the hours-old cum Jim had been incubating in his pussy, reducing it from a thick stew to a thin gruel. As I pulled out, I plugged his hole once again, but not before the inside of my thighs got covered with cowboy cum. My cock was wet with it, too.

"Lick up every drop of cum on my cock, my balls, my legs and the floor," I told Jim. He never hesitated, bathing me from my cock down with his tongue, and cleaning the floor until it sparkled. Watching him work only got me hard again. I hadn't planned on dumping a fourth load of cum inside him, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. And it would make a nice, even twelve loads. I put Jim on his back on the floor and pulled the big black butt plug out of his pussy one last time.

Jim's chest was graced by a few scattered moles. One in particular I found incredibly sexy. Located close to his left tit, it was like a little moon orbiting around his nipple. Jim's cock had been rock hard all night long, and the kid surely had blue balls after having not cum for a week. I pumped Jim's ass for a good twenty, maybe thirty minutes, and was close to cumming, when I relented, telling Jim to whack himself off. I wanted to feel his ass clamp around my cock when he climaxed.

Jim stroked his dick by working on the shaft but stopping just short of sliding his hand over his cock head. He must have been crazed out of his mind, because he fisted himself for less than 60 seconds before he came. The first spurt shot so far and hard that I was afraid it was going to shoot his eye out. The volume of spunk he had to get out of his balls was so huge that, after the first blast opened the floodgates, his cock couldn't push it that far. Big blobs of white cum repeatedly exploded from his seven-inch shaft as Jim's hand flew up and down on his pole. His stomach and chest were gradually flooded with boy juice.

Jim's ass was like a strong fist closing around my cock. I was ready to dump my last load, so I slam fucked him for a good two minutes and then shot yet another load of cum inside the Scot boy. I hovered over him, panting, staring into Jim's blue eyes, his curly brown hair making a pillow on the floor. I slowly bent forward and kissed him, my balls empty and the boy's ass ravaged.


I didn't get another helping of Scottish arse after the night at the pool. The end of the semester was only three days away, and Jim left for Scotland the day after exams were completed. I wondered if Dallas and the cowboys had helped themselves to Jim's holes again after Jim had broken the ice the afternoon before I had fucked him at the pool. Horny cowboys? Check. Ready availability of a tight ass? Check. Damn, the kid probably had taken so much cowboy spunk that it was still leaking out of him days after his return to Edinburgh.

Jim had vowed to take the big butt plug home with him for memory sake, and I smiled at the thought of a baggage handler staring at a scan of Jim's luggage. I had no doubt the kid would get use out of the thing back in Scotland.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Let me know if you are enjoying the story as it develops. Coltonaalto@gmail.com

Chapter Fifteen will hopefully be up in another week or two (I hope). Time to get back to the last rock climber...

© Copyright Colton Aalto 2015

Next: Chapter 15


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