This is a story about a young man who is introduced to college life and more at a fraternity party. It is "based on actual events." Enjoy. Comments to Scot Thompson at needit83@hotmail.com.
When I was a freshman in college, I got invited to a party at a fraternity house. I considered this a big deal, because the legal drinking age was 21 and I was still just 17, and I'd never even been drunk before, yet alone, had a cock in my mouth or a man in my ass or... But I get ahead of myself. I got to the party about 8 o'clock and met up with a former high school friend that graduated a year before I did, and was now a member of the fraternity. He handed me a beer at the door, slapped me on the back and yelled "Welcome To College." The rest of the party is sort of a blur. There was music. There was alcohol. And there was a lot of dancing. Somehow, toward midnight, I got into a conversation with a fraternity brother named Alan. He was tall, maybe 6'3'' and thin, with an angular face with brown eyes and dark black eyebrows, olive skin, and long thin fingers. Sort of like an Italian Abe Lincoln, only cute. I remember he was wearing a leather jacket, a black button-down shirt, jeans and black penny loafers. His clothes were actually why we began talking -- I told him I liked his jacket, he said thanks, and I began to yammer like a drunken freshman about how I didn't know how to dress, and gosh, I feel stupid being a freshman and not knowing anything about college fashion or anything. He just listened and smiled and let me go on and on. When I finally shut up, I found out Alan had come to the college to play basketball on a scholarship but had suffered one of those "career ending" knee injuries you hear so much about. He lost his scholarship but decided to stay and finish his final year. Yes, he liked to dress nice, he said. Maybe he could give me some pointers, sometime. I was drunk. I was dizzy. And I was in complete awe. As Alan talked, I found myself thinking "Wow. This guy is so cool. I wish I could be on the basketball team and be so popular and good looking." I was falling in love and I didn't even realize it. I must have looked like a high school girl, nodding, smiling, my whole being hanging on his every word. Eventually, Alan asked me if I'd like a tour of the fraternity house. "Sure," I said. I didn't have a clue what was going to happen. Alan showed me the kitchen where "the brothers eat", the large bunk rooms where "the brothers sleep" and the long hall of private rooms the Senior and Junior brothers get to have. "Where's your room?" I asked naively, taking another swig of beer. Alan just smiled and led me down the hall. His room was small and dark, lit by a single lamp on an end table next to a small loveseat sofa -- the only place to sit -- other than a small twin bed near the window. Basketball trophies and medals hung on the wall. Pictures of Alan scoring, dunking, passing, holding a trophy above his head with teammates somewhere in his past. At that moment, I thought he was the most fascinating person in the world. He closed the door then sat on the sofa. "It's more quiet with the door closed. You can hear yourself think." "Sure," I said, standing there stupidly. Alan suggested I try on his leather jacket. "I bet you'll look great in it." I tried it on and looked in full-length mirror in the corner. The arms hung down below my hands. The waist rode down to about the middle of my thighs. But I looked cool, or so I thought. "You look great," he said. "Big man on campus." I probably blushed. Then Alan said something sort of strange. "I've got an idea: why don't you try on one of my outfits. See what else you look good in. Maybe you can go downstairs and pick somebody up." Alan motioned to his closet. "Try on anything you like -- in fact, try on that white turtleneck and black wool slacks." Oh, OK, try on your clothes, sure, why not? I thought. Alan just sat and watched as I took off my shirt timidly and laid in on the sofa. "The pants, too," he said. I hesitated. "Come on. Let me help." Huh? Alan, still sitting on the sofa, simply reached out and unbuckled my pants. That's when I realized what was going on. Alan was a "fag." He was trying to get in my pants, just like I'd been warned that "fags" at college would do. It was happening so fast, I didn't know what to do. I just stood there and let him unbutton, unzip and pull down my pants. "What are you doing?" I babbled, or something like that. My dick sure understood. It popped to attention to second my pants hit the floor. With one hand Alan reached over and turned out the light; with the other he pulled down my shorts, pulled out my cock and put in his mouth. "Oh, my god," I said. Warm wonderful sensations roared through my crotch. I looked down to see Alan with my member fully buried in his wet mouth and throat. He sucked hard and furious in deep long descents and incredibly slow retreats. My legs began to shake. My body shuddered. The room was spinning. In a moment, I started to black out and lost my balance. Alan caught me and picked me up -- all 125 pounds and 5'8" of me -- and carried me to the bed. "You've had too much to drink," he said, in the dark. Yeah, and your mouth on my dick, I thought. "You just need to get comfortable." He took off my shoes and pulled my pants all the way off. In a second he was naked, too, and above me, centering his lips and mouth again on my manhood. I had never been with anyone but myself, if you know what I mean, so I came the moment I began to even think the thought. Alan continue to suck and swallow until the sensation was too much. I had to push him away. "Oh my god," I said, over and over, like a mantra. My lover lay down beside me and began to stroke my hair. "I'm sorry I had to be so direct. It was something I just had to do." I looked at him, thinking I should be mad, say something like "You fucking fag! I can't believe you." But when I saw those dark brown eyes in the dim light, those white perfect teeth and smooth warm lips, all I could do was kiss him. Madly. Deeply. Like my life depended on it. And he kissed me back, rolling me on top of him so that my small body rested on his like a child on a parents. "There's so much more to show you," he said. "Show me," I begged. "Roll over" he commanded, and like a good dog, I did. With my face to the pillow and my stomach to the sheets, he began to kiss me from behind, on my neck, on my ears, then down the thin line of my back, stopping to bite or nibble at the flesh at my sides and waist. Then he spread my ass his hands. His tongue reached my hole and in swirling, flicking movements, began to move inside. "Oh, my god," I began again, as he rimmed, sucked and fucked my ass with his mouth. My cock began to rise, resurrected from the dead, it seemed. He moved to my balls. Oh fucking god, I thought. He's sucking on my balls. It was, again, too much. I moved from beneath him and onto my back. "I want to suck you," I heard myself saying. "Please let me suck you." Alan lay back on the bed, and I got a good look at his cock for the first time. All I can say is that some wives tales are true: Tall men dark men with long fingers and big hands have cocks meant for horses. It took both hands for me to capture and surround it. It was thick and dark and hot, and uncut. All I could compare it to was a day at the zoo when I got to hold a six-foot boa constrictor in my hands. I looked at Alan in surprise, then lowered myself to meet it. The taste of a man's cock. Is there anything like it? Especially when it is oozing its clear greeting of spunk. My mouth stretched. My tongue lavished praised on it. My throat strained to receive it. But it was too big and too new for a boy who knew nothing about pleasing it. I felt clumsy and stupid so I stopped. Alan sensed my frustration. "There are other ways to please a man," he whispered. In a second I was on my back and Alan was kissing me again, deeply and passionately, as he moved between my legs. Soon I felt a finger in my ass, slick and wet, pushing and probing. In a second, it was inside, and after only a brief moment of pain, I was in rapture. Another long finger joined the first, then another, with more lubricant that had appeared, seemingly from nowhere. My ass felt like it was stretching to contain an explosion and fire inside. How many fingers in my now? I couldn't tell. And I loved it. The fingers suddenly disappeared as Alan moved higher above me so that his battering ram stood poised at me doorway. He moved forward and the insertion began. There is no way to really describe this: Ecstasy. Pain. Love. Humiliation. Soft gentle coaxing that gave way gradually and deliciously to hard mighty fucking. I cried. I moaned. I called again to God. I pulled his face to mine and kissed him and sucked on his tongue as he bucked and thundered inside me. I thought I was going to split in two. And suddenly, I came again, from the hammering of his massive cock in my whimpering ass and the brush of balls on my soft smooth ass. Alan felt me come, and joined me, his essence filling me like a jet of hot water shot from a volcanic vent. He collapsed on me, breathing hard and sweating, saying my name again again. I wrapped my legs around his waist as his mouth gently kissed my neck and face. And I began to cry.