BBC on Campus

The usual disclaimers:

• My experiences are in everything I write, sometimes a remembered picture, 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!

I enjoy hearing your reactions to the story. Send me your thoughts and suggestions. Email: coltonaalto@gmail.com.

BBC ON CAMPUS

CHAPTER NINE – PRANKSTER GETS PUNKED

Back from a sex-filled weekend in New York, I returned to the challenge I had set for myself at the beginning of the semester. Having dicked Jesse, Sancho and Travis, I was halfway to my goal of fucking all six of the rock climbers that lived in the renovated gas station below my apartment. Because Jesse was gay and hungry for my cock, I couldn't give myself much credit for scoring the dance boy. And with the benefit of hindsight, I suppose Travis was an easy mark, too. Even though he was straight, the party boy loved getting stoned and loved sex when he was high. I couldn't take credit for introducing Travis to bottoming, but he hadn't ventured there after his one experience until I fucked his ass. That seemed to open the floodgates, because after that first night, if Travis wasn't getting laid by a coed, he was on the lookout for my big black cock. Still, even accounting for Jesse and Travis being the two easiest targets, my progress wasn't bad for the first month and a half of school. Only Max, Damian and Alex remained for me to track down and breed.

Befitting his bad boy persona, Alex had an impressive array of tats. Tats on big, muscular guys are okay. On overweight guys they are gross. But tats look hot on lean, lanky guys. And Alex was that – lean and lanky, always looking like he needed a good meal. He had amazing shoulder muscles and his left deltoid sported a big spider web tattoo that was mesmerizing. When he moved his shoulder muscles, the web looked like it was blowing in the wind.

Aside from his tats, Alex carried enough hardware on his body to set off metal detectors. Both of his nipples were pierced, a thick ring dangling from one tit and a silver barbell jammed through the other. One earlobe sported a diamond stud, matched by a tiny diamond in the side of his nose. Alex's other nipple hosted a fashion show of jewelry that changed daily. A big starburst tattoo surrounded Alex's bellybutton, punctuated by a dozen shiny metal studs arrayed like clock numbers. He wore a metal stud in his tongue, although he didn't keep it in all the time.

Alex was the rock jock's resident prankster, always ready with a practical joke, always prepared with a wisecrack. The sides of his mouth turned up in an odd way, which made him look like he was smirking or laughing. He was constantly apologizing when some guy or girl would accuse him of laughing at them even when he wasn't. He got into more than his share of fights with guys who thought his little pixie grin was a sneer. Of the rock jocks, Sancho was the boy every mother wanted their kid to play with. Travis was the boy every mother warned their kid about. With his spiked hair, tats and piercings, Alex was the boy every mother forbade their kid to play with. But his looks, especially his exotic tats, broad shoulders and ripped muscles, made me want to play with him.

Midway through the fall semester, Westcliffe's Dean of Students was the victim of a massive, campus-wide prank. I immediately suspected Alex's involvement. I thought the prank was hilarious, but I was technically a faculty member and couldn't openly laugh. I think 90% of the faculty felt the same way I did, mainly because the Dean was about the least sympathetic target possible. He was disliked by almost everyone, faculty, administration and students alike.

The pranksters had distributed a dozen different posters across campus. They were made to look like wanted posters, and the Dean's face was photo shopped onto various bodies, all in compromising positions. Granted, some of it was over the top, like the Dean's face on the body of a nude man being butt fucked line of hot studs, or the Dean's face on a naked woman firing ping pong balls out of her pussy. To top it off, the pranksters filled the Dean's office knee deep in packing peanuts, the kind that stuck to everything because of static electricity and are hell to remove. Campus Security was baffled as to how the perpetrators got into the Dean's locked office, but the open transom above the Dean's door offered the obvious, if unnoticed, explanation.

The Dean was a jerk. No other way to describe him. He was shrill and preachy, given to long rants about proper student behavior and conduct. A few years back, he started advocating for a dress code and grooming standards for students, which would have gone over like a lead balloon. Hell, with my long black dreadlocks, I wouldn't have met his standards. Given how widely he was disliked, I wondered why the President of the University tolerated him, but the Dean was close to retirement and I suppose the President didn't feel like putting him out to pasture. It was equally possible the President didn't want to antagonize the Dean's evangelical church, which always was looking for an excuse to attack the `liberal, Godless' University down the street. Montanans have a western, live-and-let-live attitude, but apparently the members of the Dean's church didn't get the memo.

One of the wanted posters in particular caught my attention. The poster showed the Dean's face superimposed on the body of a young man. The young man was fucking a woman whose face couldn't be seen but whose legs were wrapped about the man as he pounded her pussy. I had spent enough time enjoying Alex's shirtless torso to know the outlines of his pumped shoulders, eight pack and narrow waist, and I could have sworn that the body in the poster was Alex's. However, the body of the young man in the photo didn't have the big tattoos that Alex sported, in particular the big spider tat on his shoulder. Those could, however, have been photo shopped out of the final poster when the Dean's face was superimposed on the naked body.

Although I suspected that Alex was involved and was probably the ringleader of the prank, two back-to-back events brought Alex's involvement into focus. I was coming down the stairs from my room above the garage one night and overheard Alex laughing with Travis about how they had arranged distribution of the posters, sneaking into the campus mail room and putting an unaddressed envelope with a different version of the poster in each student and facility member's mailbox.

The next night, I arrived home and opened the door to the gas station to hear Alex yell, "Fuckers! Assholes!" He was shirtless, as usual, and was dangling from the rock climbing wall the rock jocks had installed in the gas station's two-story living room. However, Alex's shorts, rather than being perched above his bubble butt, were dangling from one of his climbing shoes. Travis and Jesse were rolling on the floor laughing. One of them had used a fishing rod to snag Alex's shorts and haul them down as he climbed the wall. In his effort to avoid being pulled off the wall, Alex was trying to kick his shorts off, and had turned 90 degrees. I had a full-on shot of his cock and balls.

Alex's flexed muscles were hot, even hotter in the buff, but just above his cock, where his pubes would have been if Alex hadn't shaved them, was a unique, eye-catching tattoo. The tattoo made it appear that reddish-orange flames were shooting from the base of Alex's cock. The visual was seared in my mind.

I had seen the tattoo before. The young man in the wanted poster that I suspected might be Alex bore the same tattoo.

The only explanation was that Alex had used a photo of himself in the poster, photo shopping his other tattoos out to avoid being recognized. I didn't give a fuck that Alex was behind the prank, and I thought the whole thing was funny. But later than night, as I recalled how hot the flame tattoo around Alex's cock was, I began to think of ways to turn the situation to my advantage.

On a whim, I scanned Alex's poster and sent it to David, my roommate during my four years at Harvard. Whoever assigned us as roommates freshman year had a wild sense of humor. We were polar opposites. I was the youngest freshman in the dorm, David the oldest. I tended toward taciturn, while David was everyone's best friend, outgoing, campy and outrageous. I was a lanky, 6'5" black kid from Chicago with long dreadlocks, although my skin was more coffee with heavy cream rather than pitch black. David was a short, white, ex-Marine from New Orleans with a military buzz cut. He was barely 5'4," but, overcompensating for being short, David was a muscular gym rat. He possessed what was likely the biggest chest and arms among Harvard's entire freshman class. Maybe the biggest guns in the entire undergraduate student body. His muscles looked even larger because of his short stature. I was over a foot taller than David, but he outweighed me.

We hit it off immediately. I liked the confidence and maturity David had developed from being a Marine commander. He had the force of personality to lead men that were twice his age. David liked my sense of humor and maturity and sophistication, developed despite my age. That's what socializing with successful, older men can do for a teenager.

I nicknamed David Plantation Boy.' He didn't actually grow up on a plantation, but his parents' ornate mansion in the Garden District of New Orleans could easily have stood in for a plantation house in movie shoots. David called me Dread,' like many of my friends, but also `Dread the Dark,' particularly when we were alone.

David and I were opposites in one other respect, too, but that difference became part of the foundation of our friendship. I was a top and David was a bottom, a fact we identified within hours of first introducing ourselves. David walked into our shared dorm room when I happened to be changing clothes. He took a look at my exposed junk and exclaimed, "Holy fuck, how big is that thing when it's hard?"

"Why don't you give me some head and find out, Plantation Boy?" I replied with a smirk, grabbing my cock and squeezing it.

"I will do exactly that, Dread the Dark," David responded, looking me directly in the eyes. "On one condition. When I'm done, you ram that black telephone pole up my lily white ass and fuck my brains out."

"Terms accepted," I replied with a grin. When I moved into our dorm room hours earlier, I had wondered how long it would take to get laid. Answer: 6 hours. I made the first of what would turn out to be four years' worth of cum deposits in David's ass that afternoon.

For David, my big cock only whetted his appetite for more. David was in the closet while he was in the Marines, and at Harvard he frantically made up for lost ground. David's parade of boyfriends through four years of college never had a clue that he was cheating on them by taking my cock up his ass three or four nights a week. After all, we were roommates, so being together wasn't suspicious.

Oddly for an ex-Marine, David had a wild, exhibitionist streak, which almost got us in trouble on more than one occasion. One close call came on a dark night during the fall when David led me to the top step of Memorial Church and rode my cock until we both climaxed. We had to pause several times as people strolled by, oblivious to the two students fucking in the darkness, barely steps feet away. But the sense of danger turned David on in a big way.

The ready availability of David's muscle ass somewhat moderated my sexual proclivities, although during my stint in Boston, I found time to sow plenty of wild oats in New England Yankee asses. The freshmen at Harvard were too much like the high school kids I left behind in Chicago and didn't interest me sexually. Some of the upper classmen, however, were hot, and Grindr and a couple of other web apps were reliable sources of sex partners. In something of a throwback to prior eras, I actually preferred to meet men in the bars, which I accessed through the courtesy of an excellent fake ID. If a picture on Grindr was worth a thousand words, I found scoping a man out for 60 seconds in person was worth 10,000 words. In that time, watching their eyes, their body language and their movements, I could read most men. More importantly, I got a feel for the attribute I found most alluring in a man – his presence in a room, the way other people looked at him, his leadership, his ability to command respect.

Tracking down the photo in Alex's poster was a long shot, but David was into image recognition software. The face recognition aspect of the business was fast becoming mainstream, but matching bodies or landscapes or street scenes was in its infancy. However, David was fascinated by tattoos – his hard muscle body was covered with ink – and he had been playing around with a tattoo recognition software. At first David thought the poster, with its image of Alex's flame tat, wasn't doable, but by limiting web scanning to porn photos and then to the four inches above a man's cock, David came back in a couple of days with a match. A hot, high definition photo from the net of Alex in full fuck mode, the exact image that Alex had used for his prank poster.

There was more, too. The website on which Alex had posted the photo hosted a dozen more photos of Alex in various stages of fucking, along with two short videos. Most of the photos showed the faces of the women Alex was fucking. One showed a much younger Alex, his body less developed and with fewer tats. Only the spider web tat was evident, and he didn't look even 16. He might have been only 14 or 15. In an era in which kids posted a flood of high def fuck videos every day, Alex's videos weren't notable, but they showed Alex fucking like a maniac.

David went an extra step in everything he did, and in this case he compiled a list of every website that had copied or linked Alex's photos. Alex probably didn't know it, but he was on a lot of pornographic blogs. In return for David's efforts, I had to promise him I would make a trip to Silicon Valley, where David had taken a job after graduating from Harvard, for a weekend of nonstop fucking. I had a feeling that much of it would be in public; David said one thing he loved about Silicon Valley was that he could fuck outdoors 12 months out of the year.

The evidence in hand, I made plans and the waited for the right opportunity with Alex. Like the gray wolf, I had sighted my prey and now set a trap.

The right opportunity appeared a couple of nights later. I was in my upstairs apartment when I heard banging on the door to the gas station. At first I ignored it. But the banging continued and, annoyed, I went downstairs to answer the door. It was Alex. Perfect timing. I was horny as hell.

"Hey, thanks, Dillinger," Alex said, slurring his words. He was drunker than a skunk. "I forgot my keys." It was probably the tenth time during the fall that Alex forgot his keys. It was a good thing for him that he had plenty of roommates. And, tonight, an accommodating upstairs neighbor.

Even though it was a cool evening, Alex was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt that was open on the sides so his ribs and the muscles of his chest and stomach were fully on display. It was damn sexy, only bolstering my plan.

I blocked the doorway and said, "We have something to discuss, Alex." Alex frowned slightly, no doubt mentally cataloging his various misdeeds and trying to ascertain which one involved me. "It's serious," I continued. "We can talk in your room if you like. Or here in the living room. Or we can talk, in private, upstairs." I emphasized the word `private.' Serious matters always needed to be discussed in private, so in his drunken state, Alex only focused on one option.

"Upstairs," Alex said, his happy mood of a few minutes ago shattered.

One of the big ceiling fans that Dontrell had installed in my room had a downlight that was harsh, so I seldom used it, but as Alex and I entered the room I switched on the downlight, while killing the rest of my lights. The downlight was directly over my couch and I directed Alex there. This was going to be a nice, torturous interrogation chamber.

I retrieved the wanted poster of the Dean's face on Alex's body, showing it to Alex. I had a complete collection of Alex's prank posters. Plenty of the posters got trashed immediately, but the remainders had become something of collector's items. Plenty had found their way on to dorm walls. "What do you have to say for yourself?" I asked.

Alex looked at the poster, glanced up at me and back at the poster. He face flushed with embarrassment. "We just thought it would be funny," Alex said, not trying to deny anything. This is going to be easier than I anticipated.

"It is funny," I replied. "And I don't give a fuck about your prank. What I'm asking about is the picture of you, naked, having sex."

"Um," Alex stammered. "It's not..." he began, but I quickly cut him off.

"Like hell it's not you," I said. "If you want to prove me wrong, drop your pants, Alex," I ordered.

Alex frowned at me, wondering if he really had to follow my order. He hesitated, his brain trying to fight through the alcohol he had guzzled all night. "You've got five seconds to drop `em," I said harshly.

Alex was frozen, but didn't move. Getting Alex naked this early in the game was a long shot, but it was worth going for it. I wasn't surprised that it didn't pan out. Instead, I moved on. "So this is you, down to the flame tattoo in your crotch," I said.

Alex bit his lip, saying, "I didn't think anyone would notice. I thought in the poster everyone would think it was pubes."

"What about the rest of these?" I asked, showing Alex a few more photos he had posted on the internet. Alex's face flushed, but there was no point denying that the photos were him, so he just shrugged his shoulders.

"Did you happen to get these women's consent before posting their pictures online?" I asked.

Alex frowned. Of course he hadn't. Teenaged high school and college students didn't think their actions might have long term implications. "Um, no," he mumbled.

"I see," I said. "Did it ever occur to you that you just might be breaking a fistful of laws by posting these photos online?" Alex shook his head. His fear was rapidly churning. I could practically taste it, and it whetted my appetite. I paused for a long while, letting Alex stew.

"What about this one?" I asked, showing Alex the photo of his much younger self. "How old were you?"

Alex was sweating. "Fifteen, I think," he answered.

"And your girlfriend?" I demanded.

"She was a year younger," Alex said.

"You know what the age limit is for child pornography, Alex?" I said sternly.

Alex's face flashed. His trademark smirk looked bizarre as outrage and fear crossed his face. "She was cool with it! It was her fucking idea!" he protested.

I shook my head. "Consent doesn't matter if she was underage, Alex. You seriously think someone that is legally a child can consent to pornography?"

"It's not pornography," Alex said. "We were just having sex."

"Oh," I deadpanned. This was too easy. The kid was too predictable. "So a picture of you fucking your girlfriend that you post online isn't porn because of... what exactly? No tits showing? Uh, no, her tits are showing. No cock showing? Well, not exactly, `cuz you can see your dick with the head inside her pussy. Not naked? Uh, both of you are butt naked." Alex fidgeted. I had the college boy where I wanted him. Now it was time for the gray wolf to move in for the kill.

"Child pornography may not be the worst of it," I said. "Did you ever hear of something called statutory rape? Well, that occurs when an older boy has sex with an underage girl. It's called statutory because it doesn't matter if the girl consented or not or if the boy was a day older or twenty years older. If she's underage, it's rape. And you posted evidence of that on the net. And you know what else? Lots of sites have copied it. It's all over the net."

I paused for a long moment while Alex looked at the photo in front of him in shock. It probably didn't help that he was drunk, although undoubtedly he was sobering up fast. "Lemme tell you what is going to go down," I said, breaking the silence. "First thing tomorrow morning, you are going to delete every one of your photos from the internet." I had already copied them on a thumb drive, just in case they might come in handy later. "I have a list of every website that copied your photos or linked them. You're almost famous, Alex. Lots of people have enjoyed looking at the pictures of you fucking your girlfriends. But I'm going to give you the website list, and after you've deleted your postings, you're going to spend all day tomorrow, if that is what it takes, contacting websites and telling them to remove your porn."

Alex nodded, looking relieved. He was about to find out what this would cost him.

"I'm sure the Dean would be very interested to discover that a child pornographer and statutory rapist was enrolled as a student," I said. "But he'll never find out, because neither you nor I are going to tell him. I won't tell him because in about two minutes you are going to suck my big black cock and give me the best damn blow job ever. And after you swallow my load, I'm going to fuck your ass. I'm going to fuck your brains out. Not once, not twice, but all night long. Tomorrow morning, too. Your ass will be so sore you won't be able to walk. Which won't be a problem because you'll be sitting in front of your computer all day tomorrow deleting porn shots."

Alex's eyes were wide and his mouth was open as if he was trying to form words. I could see the big metal stud he sometimes wore in his tongue. That stud that was going to be rolling underneath my cock in a few minutes.

Alex was beginning to understand that he was boxed in, with only a singular option. "I wanna see that flame tattoo while you suck my cock, so get those clothes off," I said.

Alex started to protest, but I clenched my jaws and said, "Now, boy. The discussion is over."

Resigned to his fate, Alex stood and numbly pulled off his shirt and dropped his jeans and boxers. His piercings were on full display, the barbell in his right tit and the big ring in his left tit. I was looking forward to feeling his tongue stud on my cock. He had one piercing I hadn't seen before. His flaccid cock sported a big, black Prince Albert ring. I didn't remember seeing a black one before, but that was a nice touch. The reddish-orange flame tattoos, in exactly the place his pubes would be if he let them grow, were spectacular. I reached forward to twist the barbell in his right tit, causing Alex to flinch slightly. This was going to be one helluva great night of sex. At least for me.

"Down," I said, pointing to the floor. Alex docilely dropped to his knees. I fished my black monster from my pants. It was already waking up in anticipation of what was about to happen. Alex frowned as he saw how big it was, glanced up at me to make a final, futile appeal, but with a resigned look he reached for my cock. I have to say this for him. Once tamed and committed, Alex was a trooper.

Alex didn't bother licking my cock, but instead got his mouth on it quickly. He struggled to take all of it, but he kept at it, and finally I could feel my dong slip down his throat. His wet mouth felt awesome around my black pole. It was an amazing effort for a rookie.

He wasn't moving his head very much, so I reached forward and grabbed it, moving it back and forth on my dick. "Suck it, bitch," I said. "Show me what a good cocksucker you are. Do everything to my cock you like your cunts to do to your dick. But do it better."

Alex tentatively began to move back and forth on my cock, sometimes pulling all the way off of it before diving back down. His hands were braced on my thighs, and I reached down and guided one of them to my balls. He took the hint, massaging my black eggs, using his other hand to grip the base of my cock. The metal stud on his tongue felt awesome as it raked the underside of my dick.

Straight boys are, for the most part, crappy at sucking cock. If I didn't get so turned on by the game of taming them, I wouldn't bother with straights. Gay bois are much better cocksuckers, probably for the simple reason that they enjoy it. But I have to say, Alex tackled my cock with the same determination he used when climbing rocks. He was focused and intent, careful with his teeth. Maybe it was fear of what I would do to him if he didn't perform, but the kid was doing a damn good job.

I occasionally grabbed Alex's head and face fucked him, but after a few minutes I would back off and Alex would resume deep throating me, his studded tongue massaging the length of my cock. My rigid black pole ramming Alex's mouth had erased his perpetual smirk; his mouth was open as far as possible to take me.

I thought about playing with the jewelry that adorned Alex's nipples, but there would be plenty of time for that later. So I let my climax build, relishing the idea of pumping a load down Alex's throat. My balls tightened suddenly, and Alex detected what was about to happen. He completely swallowed me, his nose stuffed in my kinky black pubes. He was smart enough to realize that he wouldn't taste my cum if it jetted straight to his stomach. I had a suspicion that one of his girlfriends used the same trick on him. My spunk gushed forward all at once, flooding the college boy's guts.

I clamped my hands around Alex's head, making sure he stayed on me until my dick stopped lurching and pumping. Finished, I slowly withdrew my cock, leaving only the head in Alex's mouth, and said, "Squeeze out the last drop of cum. I want you to taste it, roll it around in your mouth and then swallow it. You need to know what black ball juice tastes like. It's just your first drink of it; you'll get more." Alex stared up at me as he followed my orders.

As tempted as I was to fuck Alex's hard buns right after I juiced his mouth, I was planning a long night of manhandling his ass, so I took a break, stuffing my cock back inside my pants and fixing myself a drink. Alex looked puzzled, wondering if maybe I was done with him. He started to reach for his clothes, but I stopped him and said, "I didn't say you could get dressed." Instead, I tossed him a tube of lube and said, "You might want to work your hole and get it relaxed and greased up. Unless you're used to taking big cocks up your ass, that is."

Alex gave me a shocked look, staring at the tube of lube in his hands. If he had hopes that a blow job might be all I wanted, they quickly dissipated. He debated what to do, but with a resigned look he greased a finger up and began to probe his hole.

I almost started laughing, seeing the boy on my floor, naked and fingering his hole. Even straight boys play with their asses on occasion, but Alex seemed to be finding out for the first time that asses were two-way streets and things could go in rather than only out. I let him explore for a few minutes before fetching a black dildo. "Here," I said as I tossed it to him. "Your finger isn't doing much to get you prepared. Try this. It's not the real thing, but you gotta start somewhere." I also had retrieved a ball gag. I didn't want one of the rock boys rushing upstairs later, thinking someone was getting killed if Alex screamed his head off when I destroyed his hole.

Watching Alex struggle to fuck himself with the dildo was funny, but I wasn't really into it, so once he worked the dildo into his ass, I stripped and walked over to him, slowly working my cock back to an erection. I grabbed Alex's head and said, "Get my dick hard. You're gonna have it inside your guts in a few minutes."

Alex had a look of trepidation on his face but he did as I ordered, sucking me until my cock was hard and wet. I handed him the lube and he greased my pole, remembering to lube his hole. Show time was here.

I decided Alex was going to be on his back for my first fuck of his pink hole, because I wanted to tweak his nipple jewelry and watch the sunburst around his bellybutton and the Prince Albert ring in his dick. "Get on the bed and throw your legs in the air and spread `em, bitch," I ordered. Alex dutifully complied. Gone was his usual arrogant, funster attitude.

As I hovered over Alex, my big black python rigid and ready to impale his ass, I was surprised when he asked, "This is gonna hurt, isn't it?"

`Duh' I thought, but instead I replied, "Yeah. Big time." Alex's question reminded me about the ball gag. I retrieved it and strapped it in place. Alex looked even less happy, if that was possible. The smirk on the sides of his mouth was gone, covered by the ball gag.

I swirled my dick around the entrance to the prankster's virgin asshole and then poked it inside him. Alex jerked and gurgled into the ball gag. The kid's ass was tight as a vice, so it took me several attempts to finally breach his butt and get my cock buried in his guts. Alex's eyes showed anguish. I began to ride his ass, pulling my black pole out of his greased hole and then powering back in. Alex's ass gradually relaxed.

"Yeah, you're liking it now, aren't you, bitch?" I asked Alex. With the ball gag, Alex could only communicate with his eyes. He was definitely not liking it. But by the second or third fuck, I thought, his prostate would take over and tell a different story. He might not like it, but it wouldn't be as bad as it had been, and he would begin to notice that mixture of pleasure and pain.

I periodically tweaked Alex's tits, twisting the barbell or pulling on his tit ring. I think the fucker liked that. I couldn't figure out what to do with the Prince Albert ring. It cried out for a weight to drag Alex's cock down when he was standing up, or maybe a small rope. But tied where?

Leaning over, I quickened my pace, ramming Alex's boy butt with my big fuck tool. His tats were great. "How does it feel to get butt fucked?" I asked. Just as well that he couldn't answer.

I was getting close and pulled back, but then ramped up until I was pounding the kid's white ass and ripping his pussy with my cock. I felt my climax stirring in my balls. No need to hold back. Alex's ass was mine for the rest of the night, so I could dick him as many times as I wanted. I piston fucked the college rock boy, stabbing his boi cunt rapid fire until my balls fired and my cum gushed into Alex's hole. His formerly virgin hole had been deflowered.

The second, third and fourth times I fucked Alex that night were better than the first. His cunt was wet and juicy, and open enough so it wasn't so hard to enter him. I drilled him doggy style, pounded him standing up, and fucked him flat on the floor, which was best for a really deep slam fuck. I made him suck me off again, too, telling him that his job was to clean my cock after it had savaged his pussy. By morning I was exhausted and Alex probably thought his guts were going to seep out of his destroyed, gaping hole.

Alex dutifully spent the next day cleaning up his internet mess, at least between naps. He wasn't upset about my having punked him. When he reported back to me that he had gotten every photo removed, he thanked me and said that a night of taking my big black cock up his ass was a small price to pay to avoid serious legal problems. There was even a silver lining for him. Alex was in a college class on internet privacy, and he aced the class by writing a paper on the procedures, hurdles and challenges in removing personal information from the internet. All based on his own long day of work, although he didn't reveal the details in his paper.

Alex bounded back quickly. It took almost no time for him to reassume his mantle as the house clown and prankster. It was unlikely Alex would have targeted me for one of his jokes, but if there was ever a doubt, my night of abusing his holes resolved the question.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Chapter Ten is in the works...

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