Chapter 26
After cuddling a while, Danny got up, saying, "I gotta pee." He climbed off me and my bed, stopping briefly above me to nuzzle my cheek and kiss my neck, and strutted out the door, with nothing on but a smile. His amazing ass cheeks waving a friendly see-you-soon at me.
I reached down between my legs to check my back door, and felt some cum oozing from my hole. I rubbed it all around my hole and balls, reveling in the warmth I could still feel. There was some soreness, but not too bad, so I shifted to begin sitting up.
"So that's what it feels like," I heard myself saying as I glanced myself in the mirror across the room. I took a few few steps, and started to feel more cum flowing from my ass, so I grabbed my damp towel from the pile on the floor, and held it between my thighs, leaning against my dresser, my back-side facing the door.
I heard the door open, and suddenly, there was John, my original roommate. "Ah, so it's true! Danny told me in the bathroom just now that he finally popped your cherry!" He was grinning from ear to ear, shut the door behind him, stepped over and sat on the bed. "Did he rip you open?"
I took a tentative look at the towel, seeing a slight bloody smear mixed with the juices flowing from my ass. I moaned and took a few more steps over to the bed. I flopped on my back, towel still tucked tightly between my thighs.
"Don't be such a pussy, dude, there's often a little bleeding at first. I think I walked like a cripple for a few days my first time," John stated, trying to be comforting. "Don't worry, your poop chute will be fine. Here, let me check it out for you," he said pushing my knees apart.
"Okay," I murmured, staring fearfully at the ceiling.
John held my thighs apart, his grip firm but gentle, as he checked to see the state of my newly-plowed anus.
"Nothing to report. No tears that I can see, so the bleeding is probably just the result of some stretching in your lower colon. Does it hurt still?"
"No. Not really. Just like I've been stretched down there ... which I guess I have."
Just then, Danny walked back in. "Hey John. I've gotta try on some singlets for Hitch to decide which ones I'll take along to pose in next week. Wanna give your opinion?" He was smiling like a goof ball, intentionally paying no attention me. I was obviously in distress, and holding a towel tightly to my bum hole.
"Hold on a sec, Danno." I didn't know what I wanted to say, but it offended me to think he didn't care. "Nobody ever told me about any of this..."
"What did you think happened after a guy fills your hole with his cum?"
"I dunno, but now that it's over... how long should I be catching the overflow?"
"Usually just a few minutes, but if you want, you can go sit on the shitter until you're drained."
"Oh, good idea." I pulled on a pair of shorts, and left the room, walking the hall to the bathrooms. As I walked, my legs a little father apart than usual, I felt a little fart coming, and along with the puff of gas, I sensed some more juices running down my inner thigh. I made it safely to the stall, sat a while and had a good satisfying piss. When I thought I was done, I wiped, washed up and returned to the room.
When I got back to the room, Danny was pulling on a bright yellow wrestling singlet.
"You prefer the modern one or the old-fashioned one, Hitch?"
"Let's see them both," I said as I gingerly sat on the chair.
He got the tight lycra up to his hips, and tucked his balls in, then struggled to get the rest of it over each shoulder. He shrugged and adjusted the top half a few seconds, making sure it was evenly tucked. He paid special attention to the groin, as it was supposed to be tight enough to be hard to grip when wrestling, so it rode way up between each butt cheek and held his junk in an obvious bulge, where the shape of his thick dick head was clearly visible. The fabric ran down mid-thigh, but was really sleek.
He then assumed a typical wrestler pose, arms in front, legs spread apart, half-hunched over, and swaying side to side. "How's this look?"
"Turn around a minute." He obeyed. "I like how this one allows your muscles to move, and you can still see, like, the lines between the thigh muscles and the way it accentuates the rib cage and your chest."
"Let me show you the old-style suit," he stated as he pulled off the straps and dropped the yellow singlet to the floor. As he stepped into the next gear, we could tell this was really different. It seemed like less than half the fabric, it was a dingy greyish color and not as slick. There were letters across the chest sewn on top of the material, and a thick stripe around each leg opening.
When it was on, the leg openings were right at the base of his crotch, his junk prominently in its own pouch, like a speedo with thin straps going up over his shoulders, but covering almost none of his chest. Just a tapered strip that connected the shoulder straps to the front down near his navel.
"Traditionally, do you wear anything under these when competing?" I asked. The idea of staying unaroused while wearing the suit, let alone wrestling someone also wearing one was more than I could fathom.
John said, "I've watched some meets, and they always appear to have a jock strap on, or some tight supporter thing. But this way looks so much more natural ..."
"Well, originally wrestling was done nude, but in the 50s they wore this minimal style, which is almost naked if you ask me. I think the shift to more coverage happened to make it tougher to hang on to the body when grappling," Danny informed us.
"I agree. They both are pretty awesome. Do you have one in white?" I asked.
"Sure do, but that one's only for fun. It's too see-through to wear at a meet." He pulled off the grey suit and reached into his bottom drawer for the white suit. It was almost all white, but for a thin light blue stripe down each side seam. It covered more of his sides and legs, and covered each nipple completely.
When it was completely on, and adjusted, I could see what he meant. If Danny had sported pubic hair, it would be clearly visible. But since he was shaved smooth, you could quite easily see the details of his package. His nipples also showed little points on his chest, but you could see the contours of each muscle on his washboard abs.
"If I get sweaty in the least, the fabric becomes practically invisible." He said, "I wore it to a practice once, and by the end of the workout you would think I was completely nude. But I won most of those matches!"
"The other guys were probably so distracted they couldn't take you down!"
"Well, if I remember correctly, a few of the other guys got a pretty firm grip on my junk that day, and the coach did ask me to put on a pair of shorts..." He adjusted his cock so the shaft pointed slightly up and to the left. It wasn't fully hard, but not completely soft either. The fabric pushed his balls apart, and as he groped himself, I imagined wrestling him and feeling his junk pressed against mine in that singlet. I felt a jolt as my ass hole muscles clenched suddenly, making me sit up straight.
"I think you should wear the old-style one, but maybe bring them both and see what the prof prefers," I said, trying to clear my head.
"Why don't you draw a quick sketch and show your prof them both?" mused John.
"Great idea!" exclaimed Danny. "How should I pose?"
"Hold on. Let me grab my sketchbook."
When I was situated in a comfortable seated position, wearing just my shorts, my sketchbook across my crossed legs, I made a quick five-minute drawing of Danny in the white singlet, trying to capture his basic proportions and the sense of his musculature visible through the very tight, thin white cloth.
After completing the sketch, he put on the old-style suit and I did the same sort of sketch. This time I had him stand three-quarters pose, so he wasn't facing me directly. John was seated right behind me, watching my drawing pad and the image as it developed. His hand was firmly planted under the waistband of his shorts, where it was fairly obvious he was free-balling. At one point his chin was resting gently on my shoulder, and he hummed quietly a pop song that we could hear wafting through the air from a nearby room.
As I finished the sketch, he suggested, "Now, how about a nude pose? Danno, you really should practice, so you're not embarrassed in class."
"Not a bad idea!" he said, pulling the singlet down from his torso, off his narrow hips, and down past his massive thighs. He fluffed his balls a little, which was free from the tight lycra after being very squished. "How long am I going to have to stand still?"
"Probably a maximum of thirty minutes," I guessed. "Usually, we start the class off with some quick poses, one minute, two minutes, then five minutes, followed by some longer poses."
So, we started with a few quick ones, and after an hour I had several fairly good sketches of my roommate nude. The last pose was a half-hour long, and at the end Danny said, "now let me see what you've got." He got up from the floor, and came over to check out the page. "Nice! Looks like I'm planning something wicked!" The expression I had caught on his face was a little curious. He stretched his cramped hamstrings, and did some toe-touches
"I didn't intend to capture that at all!" but I saw what he meant. The smile was sly, the eyes hinted at some unspoken desire. "I've got to go wash up," showing them both my hands had picked up quite a lot of graphite from the various artist's pencils I was using.
As I walked down to the bathrooms again, I realized my stride was almost normal, and the soreness had left my ass. I could still feel the sensation of being stretched, but it was no longer pain.
I washed my hands, and glanced up at myself in the mirror. I saw my own face, but it was like looking at a stranger. There were some charcoal and graphite smudges on my cheeks, forehead and chin, from the mess on my hands, but there was something more: I looked confident, happy, and like a guy who'd just been fucked. And my hair was getting long in front.
I got some soapy water on my hands and began washing my face, and I could feel the stubble on my face. Bent forward into the sink, I felt my ass clench again, and I couldn't be sure if I wasn't leaking again. I pulled my waistband out far enough to see there was a little smear in the crotch of my shorts. Just a wet spot. I started to plan the next day. I needed a haircut. I needed to do some laundry, or I'd have to go commando another few days. And if my ass kept leaking Danno's man juices, I'd soon run out of shorts as well. That made me chuckle.
"What's so funny, dude?" a voice asked behind me. "caught a glimpse of your pencil-dick?" A guy from the floor was coming into the bathroom, and obviously he'd caught me looking into my shorts. He laughed as he slung his towel onto a wall hook, dropped his pants, and stepped into the showers in one fluid motion. Through the mirror I could see his backside as he went into the showers, and I heard the water, and a low mindless humming begin at the same time. This guy clearly hadn't even seen my "junk," so his teasing meant nothing.
I took his scruffy, wet towel, dampened a small corner of it in the sink, and used it to wipe clean my ass, leaving a little smelly smear on the damp terrycloth. I returned it on the hook, and left the bathroom to return to my room.
Feeling refreshed, but really tired, I flopped into my bed as soon as I got back to the room. Danny was still talking about the sketches, clearly impressed, but also a little over-proud of his body.
We chatted a while about the day's events, the fact that we were both coming to terms with our sexuality and relationship. I started to get very sleepy.
"Do you know anyone who could give me a haircut tomorrow?" I asked sleepily. "Plus, remind me to do some laundry tomorrow..." I heard a few words and vaguely recall someone pulling off my shorts, and covering me with the sheet on my bed. It was well past midnight, when I finally slept, but in the morning it began to occur to me that Danny had busy while I was asleep.
He was gone already, and the room was really ... clean. It hadn't seemed that messy to me last night, but now I saw that the floor was clear, no clothes anywhere lying in the little messy piles a guy's dorm room usually contains. I was under just the thin bed sheet, and usual, I slept naked, so I got up, and sporting a huge morning erection, crossed to my dresser, and found every single dresser drawer completely empty.
I panicked. What the fuck was I going to wear? I checked the time: and I was about 15 minutes from being late to my first morning class. I crossed the room to Danny's dresser, and his drawers were empty too. Same for both closets. not a stitch of clothing. No towels. No socks. Nothing.
I grabbed the door open, glanced quickly own the hall at the entrance to the bathrooms a few dozen yards away, and decided I needed to pee, and then I'd have to get some answers from Danny. So, bravely stepping into the hall, I walked quickly to the bathroom. Anyone could have seen me, but I didn't care. Tons of guys did the morning run to the communal showers naked. But fully boned up? That was asking for attention, especially with my reputation for a large cock.
I slowly peed, which slightly relieved my boner, but now it was just fully hard and pointing slightly down, instead of straight up. I stayed at the urinal, not caring how many guys came in and walked past. My semi still needed to drain some, so I waited with my forehead pressed against the cool tiled wall.
"There you are!" Danny's voice accosted me. "I stepped down to the laundry room to get your stuff, and when I got back you were gone."
"Oh... so you laundered ALL my clothes and all YOUR clothes as a personal favor!?" I stepped away from the urinal and went to the sink to wash my hands.
"Sorry, dude, I thought you knew, but you were sleeping so soundly, I couldn't be sure you were hearing me..."
I sighed and turned to Danny, wiping my wet hands on his tee shirt. "Thanks, Danno. I just need something to wear so I can get to class. I don't even care if it's clean!"
Danny and I walked back to the room, and on my bed was a small pile of my laundry. I sorted through the pile, finding some socks, a few tees, and Danny's sheets and towels. "There's another few loads in the driers now..." Danny mumbled apologetically. He was pulling off his now-wet tee shirt which I had used as a hand towel, and hung it on his towel hook.
I pulled on a tee shirt, and asked, "Danny, is there anything else that's dry enough to wear, like, now?"
"Run down to the laundry room and get what you need. I put all our stuff into the washers last night before going to bed, and this morning I put it all in the dryers. We had a lot of dirty clothes, and there was no way to tell which was really nasty dirty, and which was bearable dirty, so I thought, fuck-it I'll just do it all and start fresh." He did look sorry, but this was NOT the way I liked to start the day.
So, wearing just a tee shirt, I grabbed my slides, and set off down the hall, down the several flights of stairs to the basement laundry room. I passed several guys whose gaze was mostly at my head at first, but then, as I kept walking, I could tell eyes were double-taking to my bare ass and freely swinging morning woody.
I found all my clothes in two large dryers spinning endlessly, and after testing both of them, decided nothing was dry enough to wear.
"Shit, shit, shit!" I spat out.
"Having a wardrobe malfunction?" said a voice behind me. The noise of the dryers had covered up the sound of his entrance.
"You think?" I retorted sarcastically and turned around. It was Rob, my fuck-buddy from the basement. "Oh, hi, Rob. Sorry. Just really late for class, and my roommate put ALL my clothes in this fucking machine, and the only thing that's dry enough to wear is the tee shirt. No shorts, no pants."
"Hmm. I might have something for you. Follow me." With his eyes hungrily on my still half-engorged dick, Rob led me to his room at the end of the hallway, near the stairwell, and closed the door behind us.
He opened his top drawer, revealing a highly colorful selection of brand new undies. "Pick something from here and I'll check on shorts." Rob commanded. I pawed through what looked like thongs, jocks, tiny bikinis and some mesh knit briefs in shockingly bright colors. "Remember my underwear catalogs? Well, that's some of the ones I've ordered. Haven't actually worn most of them. You can help me out by wearing something and giving me a full report."
"Okay, I'll borrow this then," I said quickly grabbing what I thought would cover and support me well. It was bright green mesh brief, and I pulled them on, tucking my cock into the contoured front pouch, and due to the open mesh fabric, my hairless cock was easily visible. He tossed me a pair of shorts, and I stepped into them as well. They fit a little tight, so I tossed them back. "Anything with elastic? These are too tight."
"Sure, try these." The grey basketball shorts fit well, so I put on my slides and dashed out the dorm's back door and ran to class.
"Thanks, dude. I owe you.