This file depicts sexual acts between guys. If that shit turns you off, or you find it offensive, then how did you turn up here?!
The characters in this story might not be using jimmies, but they aint real. You are. Practice safe sex.
Questions, comments, ideas more than welcome at "wildstyle@iname.com". Keep it real.
Anfernee Williamson of da Undaground Click. (c) 16 August, 1998
ITS ALL GOOD another Wildstyle joint
Trajan woke with a groan. It was dark. Very warm. His first thought was where the hell was he? The last thing he remembered was drinking at some frat party. Loud music. Plenty of his football friends. Drinking. Heavily. Where ever HERE was, was completely the opposite. Very quiet and dark.
The temporary question passed slowly in the big youths mind. Somehow he'd got back to his dorm room. Somehow he'd ended back up on his bed. He gave the hows and whens a slight thought as he lay on his back, staring up into the dark. They passed as quickly as every other fleeting question, as he glanced right.
4:45am.
With a groan Trajan managed to roll himself up, putting his feet down. His head felt ok. When the heck did he LEAVE the party? The big black youth wasnt entirely sure he would have made it across the campus back to his dorm in the state he must have been in. He crossed the small room, grabbing a bottle of Coke he knew he left on his desk. It felt cool, soothing on his throat.
Pulling back the curtains cast a little light into the small room. Trajan peeped out, downing another swing. The light from outside illuminated the heavy youth, casting his room in a new light. Small, well fulled like any dorm room. Single bed. Football memorabilia. Emmitt Smith graced almost every wall. A blue Cowboys helmet atop the bookshelves, along with thick texts. Strewn clothes, books and an unmade bed helped create a common student reality of chaos.
Trajan himself looked as much on the casual side as the room he inhabited. He'd noticed, still dressed in the clothes he'd gone to the party in. Black denim overalls managed to look baggy on even his big form. One strap had fallen undone, over a blue Cowboys jersey. Number 22. Something Trajans friends had come to call uniform dress for the big youth.
Physically, Trajan had as much akin to his idol Smith, casting a big shadow back into the room. He face and exposed forearms portrayed the same message. Big, soft, but there was a hardness somewhere deep within. His dark eyes protrayed someone kind, but on the lookout, constantly, for trouble.
Trajan took a last swig, putting the bottle back down, the lid all but lost somewhere in the sea of papers. Outside the dorm blocks looked as much as they sounded. Dead. Not surprising. It was end of semester. Parties like he had gone to drained the dorms of the noisey students. A good number more than just the one Trajan had ended up at guaranteed they wouldnt be back until well into the next day.
The room dropped back into darkness as Trajan stepped away from the curtains. However he'd got back, and when was irrelevant. It had happened more and a few times, the big youth waking up next morning to stories of things he didnt remember. Sometimes he ended up recalling, sometimes not. It barely mattered. Trajan felt at ease in his small room. The darkness, warmth and silence was somehow comforting. Not bothering to undress, the big youth dropped himself back down on top of messed bedsheets.
The events of the day and night past seemed to trickle back slowly as he lay on the bed. Trajan smoothed back his cornrows, the heavy length of hair at his shoulders messed and pressed under his head.
'Sure as fuck one things obvious', he thought with a slight grin. 'Bro came back home, bro didnt GET none'. The thought didnt bother him too much. Not now anyway. 19, and he didnt know what he was missing anyway.
Trajan gave a slight grin. Sure enough there were more than a few he wouldnt have minded getting with anyway. His hand wandered a little as he remembered those that he'd been eying. Not that they'd have noticed him across the room, joking with his boys. He kept his glances on the down low, big time.
The big youths mind settled on curves, smooth shapes running downward. Dreamed glances over his beer and jokes. One of the forms took name in his mind as he remembered. Tanya, the long haired one who was always smiling. The ones his boys always be saying was loaded up front. Trajans mind and hands glided, wondering what smooth feelings lay beneath that light material. Tantalizingly beyond the eye.
Trajan squeezed his big fist again, gripping warm denim and his flesh below. His big chest rose and fell a little more with the thoughts of desire and lust. He rubbed a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes, his mouth. Feeling the slight fuzz of hair over his lip, the slowly swelling bulge under his fist. His mind was wandering down those same paths.
Smooth, soft, curvatious flesh gave way to something harder in Trajans mind. He felt it approaching like a storm, dark, forboding, but inevitable. Almost unavoidable. His big chest and shoulders rose a little quicker as he thought with a straight face of the others he'd eyed at the party. More quiet. More on the down low. Lest anyone find out. The proof was under his right hand, straining inside loose boxers. The mere thoughts made him harder than any other.
Trajan laid back a moment, unmoving. His thick flesh pounded inside his clothing, tight within his grasping fist. His minds eye still flashed briefly over Tanya. Remembering his stocky teammate Corey approaching her. "Da Big Dawg" Corey James. His eyes kept smooth on those large orbs just beneath Tanyas blouse. The futility of his thoughts past in front of him as bluntly as Corey in front of his vision.
The big youths eyes quickly resumed a slow caress down that new body. He knew that one. Shorter than average. Hard. Athletic. Powerful. Visions in the changing rooms that would, and had fueled endless nights of almost tormenting thoughts. Trajan remembered his thoughts then clearly, the same ones any other situation like that had. Given the choice, Trajan found himself begging for Coreys hard curves.
"Hey mah man! Damn, why dont we just split this damn party, huh?"
The thoughts swum in his head like the drink had hours before. Heavy, misty thoughts. No guy he knew would have those thoughts. Certainly no Razorback. Bradford Colleges star football team. He was man through and through, but his mind inevitably roamed back, and settled on Coreys short body again, like magnet to metal. He wished longingly he had the same magnetic pull to metal.
The thoughts past slightly in the dark warmth of the room. Far away from the party, and the thoughts of others, Trajan felt comfortable. His hand squeezed again, firmly, pulling upwards. He worked his big hands down over his heavy balls, pulling the warm denim up against himself there, rubbing. It felt good. The stimulation drew wet drools of precum from his blunt member. His other hand roamed slowly across his big chest. The thoughts were quick to consume him as he played, touched and stroked. The thoughts made him horny in the absence of true touch.
Trajans big hand worked very gently at his balls. He moaned quietly at the familiar feeling. It was comforting in the warmth of the room, filling his big body with a stronger, more sexual warmth that caressed his form as real as Coreys imagined hand. His other hand rubbed over his big, thick chest, feeling the meshed blue material of his football jersey. Trajan felt relaxed at the soft feelings there, content, laying long moments just touching himself in the dark.
The big black slowly closed his fist around his denim clad groin. He felt his big flesh softening slightly, the pleasure of his big half erection still as pure. His other hand played light fingers across his chest. The strokes ran slow pleasure through the blue jersey. Trajans fingers slipped under the shoulder strap of his overalls, seeking his broad nipple, stroking in easy circles, rubbing the material of his jersey against himself there.
"Im sorry. I couldnt help it, man. You just so damn phine, man."
Trajan whispered, taking in a breath that fulled his big chest. It rose deeply under his hand, as the pleasure of his gentle strokes mounted his arrousal. It felt nice. The same gentle, easy pleasure he had grown used to at his own hand. In the dark, warm safety of his dorm room. In the quiet, privateness of his own mind and fantasies.
Trajans strap fell away sharply as his fingers worked it free. Unhinded by the material barriers of his black overalls, his big hands slipped eagerly inside. One eased deep downward, feeling the burning heat and wet slickness of his partly arroused genitals. His big fingers eased around newly hardening flesh, awaking a new arrousal deep inside him as his center came in contact with his hands. His other slipped upwards, under his jersey.
Trajan kept the motions purposely slow. He liked the gentle pace. Imagined the love of another at the same pace on his big body. His thick, large form portrayed a savage love making. His mind and soul and body yearned for the slow, gentle pace of his hands. Soft, smooth loving in the darkness. His mind wandered shamelessly to his images of Corey, as the warm, sexual heat rose through his big body.
"You dont know how much I dreamed bout this......"
Trajans left hand eased across soft bulk, smooth, hot skin. His curves were big, gentle slopes. Unlike Coreys powerful, muscled form, Trajans big, blocking weight lacked most definition. The linebackers strength came on size, thick, heavy weight. Big lumps of muscle with little wasted on athletic grace. Under his light jersey, big rose and fell. Big shoulders. Big chest. Big arms. His hand eased up onto the smooth, big curve of his chest. His hand there felt soft, warm. Nice. It drew as quick a breath as his other, gripping a now hard again shaft, thick head drooling juice.
Sweat gathered in glistening drips on his forehead as the gentle foreplay progressed. The sweat came from heat, drawn from the dark heat of the room, the raw heat of his sexual arrousal. His mouth drew deep moans, as the slow, but constant pleasure kindled across his body. Fires lit slowly in his groin and across his big chest.
The thoughts kindled slowly in his brain. The same slow gentle rising that mounted him physically. Like the warmth that increased slowly thoughout his big body, the images grew inside his minds eye. Kindled by memory, where his physical warmth was kindled by his hand. Trajan found his mind pinpointing through the misty warmth to the same image, down the same path.
The big youth stroked his hand gently across his chest again, coming to a rest on his left nipple. Fingers gently played the broad, dark area, toying with the hard nib of flesh. Trajan found his breath coming in tighter gasps, rising gradually with his climbing arrousal. The stroking there felt good. His mind justified it as anothers hand there, the impossibility increasing his arrousal.
"Yeah....fuck, man....touch me there....please bro...."
Trajan gave in to the warmth and pleasure. He felt it on his big body, the sweat, the heat, the clear, sticky juice of his pleasure. Hands, whether his own or anothers glided the gentle curves of his big body. Trajans mind registered only the smooth pleasure and the warmth. His fantasies and arroused state filled in the blanks as he gently masturbated in erotic self foreplay.
Time lost meaning as the young black lost his jersey. Big, sweat slicked lumps of muscle gleamed slightly in the dimness of the room. Trajan lay back down, dropping aside the baggy jersey. Both hands went to his chest. Broad, hard. As expansive as the rest of his form. His large hands rode the smoothness of his chest, lead to big lumps of his shoulders and neck. His breath was deep, the soft, smoothness of his body rising and falling slowly, but heavily.
Trajans mind took place on the form. Coreys image came to the forefront of his relaxed mind, seemingly linked so naturally with the warm pleasure tickling across his body. The youth smiled as he thought of the times he'd seen the stocky footballer naked, breathing and drinking in the images like weed. He imagined his stocky black friends hands stroking and toying with his big body, the peak of his thoughts, lost in masturbation. His hands tugged at clothes, pulling back sweats and singlet.
"Damn yo phine...."
His hands moved where he dreamed Coreys hands to move. Slow, easy strokes across his big chest. Thumbs pressing and stroking at broad nipples. A shiver ran though his dark body as Trajan played his big hands downward. He felt the brink of ticklishness as he ran his palms down the sides of his big body, pushing at his overalls. He eased them down, more kicking them free than anything.
A sudden freedom came over him as he heard his baggy overalls hit the floor. The warmth of the room came over him, joining the pleasurable warmth of his own hand. The big youth lay naked atop his messed bed. He bathed in the luxurious pleasure of stroking and rubbing at his big inner thighs. His fingertips ran the light hair there, drawing his thick cock back up to a full erection.
Trajans mind was already lost in his dreams of Corey. He became more and more dosey, aided by the steady pleasure and warmth of the room. His breathing was steady, but deep. His hands slipped around his erection again, his other grasping big balls. Trajans mind begged Coreys hands touch him there, as he became more lost in his arroused dreamy reality.
"Please, man....dont leave me, man....just touch me there....stroke it, man..."
The big youth squeezed his meaty erection. Thick, heavy, like everything else of his body. His fist closed tighter around its heavy shaft, drawing more clear precum from that huge head. His big hand eased up his shaft as he drew in a deep moan. A fire burned across his big body, consuming him as his palm consumed his huge, naked head. Trajan writhed slowly, gently, as his sweaty, rigid heat pounded in his hand.
Trajans hand slurped backwards, lubbed by precum, driven by climbing arrousal. His big hand squeezed and tugged on his big balls. The youths mind saw Corey though the mist, touching him, stroking where his hand stroked. Toying, playing, teasing in an erotically slow masturbation. Trajan stared into the dark as he masturbated more firmly, drawing himself towards a powerful peak.
His minds eye drifted down Coreys muscular form again. Naked. As erect as himself. Shorter, more muscled, defined. A warm smile and sparkling eyes, encouraging and warm. Trajan felt his yearning for the thick black rising with his peak, the heat on his body, his breathing. His big fist pumped, causing the air to smell heavy with the aroma of his wet sex.
"Ah fuck, bro....fuck I want you so fucking bad.....please dont leave me....."
Trajan felt the wetness on his body. The sweat slicked where his hand rubbed and stroked his heavy balls. Lingered further between his thighs, seeking deeper. He felt it run off his brow. Making his sheets uncomfortably clamey under his big back. His strong hips eased upwards, pumping his member against his fist with a natural instinct to fuck.
Trajans mind, body and soul was lost somewhere in the sweaty, sex heavy heat of his room. He imagined Coreys hand on him. He imagined it was his hand stroking Coreys. His strong strokes was his own, masturbating the stocky blacks body. Trajans mind sunk into the smooth, firm motions of lovemaking, his fingers dipping, penetrating a sweaty asshole.
"Ah fuck! You big Trajan!"
The youths eyes widened as his finger stroked soft, burning walls of flesh. He rode deeper, touching soft insides, probing. His body heaved against the entrance. His cock throbbed with the ferosity of his heartbeats. His mounting climax and arrousal continued as he gasped out. The youths huge body was in soft, burning extasy, his mind lost in pleasure and fantasy.
Trajan gasped, panting heavily. His big chest and shoulders rose and fell sharply. The pleasure rode through his body with a mounting strength. Big hips pumped up against his fist as his cock pistoned within his grasp. He was too lost in erotic touch to feel the wetness dripping over his fingers. Too lost in the driving, probing, touching sensations deep inside his ass.
A moaning cry escaped Trajans lips as his face hardened. He cried out Coreys name as his fucking, and masturbating increased in tempo. His big chest heaved, body completed slicked in the sweat of his sexual touch. A last cry left his lips as the mounting peak inside him exploded in a devistating release.
Thick strings of white colored his soft body in streaks. Throbbing, burning, all consuming pleasure took him as his actions peaked and released, again and again. His mind and hands and sexual energy caressed Coreys muscles over and over as he released. Lost in the power of his climax.
Trajan closed his eyes. The stark wetness was obvious as his climax waned too quickly. His huge cock sofened in his fist, as his chest drew in ragged breaths. The big youth felt his semen running down his chest, cutting sudden strokes down his sides as it wet the sweaty sheets beneath him. There was a guilt in the absence of the pleasure. All that remained was the smell and heat.
"Damn, Im sorry, bro....fuck....man, I didnt mean to...."
Trajans mind spoke apologies as Corey seemed to call back at him. His mind justified and scorned in a sea and storm of different sensations. He felt the coolness as he got up off his bed, cum running downward suddenly, gathering in his pubic bush. He rubbed himself off vigorously with his towel, feeling the roughness, banishing the evidence of his thoughts.
'As if it would ever happen. As if Corey would ever get with a guy like me'. Trajan felt his cock limp between his big thighs, the sweat in his violated asshole, as he walked the two steps across his room. He tossed the towel in an angry ball, taking another gulp of Coke before returning to his bed. Corey slipped back under his sheets, doing his best to find a spot not hot or wet. He slipped into sleep again.
"Hey, mah man!"
Trajan froze suddenly, cocking an eyebrow. What the heck!? The big youth kept walking over to the table, putting the tray with his lunch down on the table. He pulled out chair, sat down.
Corey smiled across the table at him. The short footballer glanced a little, those sparkling eyes locking on his again. Trajan felt a nervious sweat rising on his neck as he looked that red Razorback sweatshirt over. His thoughts came back with the same blunt statement as Coreys red hoodie.
"Good to see you up, Traj," Coreys voice was very low. "I hope you slept as well as I did."
Trajan nodded, muttering a reply. He didnt? His big shoulders rose and fell as he pushed slightly at his lunch.
"Hey, mah man....about last night, man." Corey paused in the uncomfortable silence "I aint telling no one."
Trajan nodded. The night came back in sudden starkness. Coreys next few words relaxed him slightly, in the storm of thoughts and feelings that were overrunning his big body.
"Its ok, man. Its all good. I still always got your back."