Chapter 1
The pungent aroma of fresh, male sweat filled the room as the huge black athlete forced himself on to still another set of pushups. He counted silently, puffing in harsh gasps, his body straining from toes to fingertips. Finally he hit his target and stopped, in the up position, his weight propped on his now ripped and rippling arms. With a final effort he threw his feet up under himself and leaped upward, arms raised overhead. His hands palmed the ceiling. He landed lightly on his toes and stretched his aching arms out to the sides, rolling his mountainous shoulders.
Enough, he thought. I got homework to squeeze out of this body yet tonight. Much as I want a winning season, I want grad school just as bad. And I'm fuckin' gonna get it!
Shucking off his jock strap, Dak sauntered toward the bathroom, his manhood swinging free. Pulsing from the post-exercise flush of blood, it hung half way to his knees.
Fuck, he thought, what a raunchy smell. Gotta shower before I do anything else. He stopped by the sink, caught by his reflection in the mirror.
"God, you ugly", he said, aloud. He looked at his image with resignation. His face had the cragginess of a moon landscape. Pitted skin from childhood chicken pox stretched over features he figured it would be charitable to call homely.
At least the 'stache came in okay, he mused, as he stroked the luxurious growth over his thick upper lip. Too bad the beard didn't work out. Woulda covered up some more of this battlefield. But it made me look like a goddam muskrat. Scraggly? Shit! But, hell, I get some action anyway, on account of my body.
He gave his thick, v-shaped torso an appraising once-over. Heavy shoulders sloped down from a bull neck to merge with the deep, sharply defined chest which crested in the twin peaks of quarter-sized dark brown nipples. He pinched one experimentally and watched as it stiffened into a tight, three-quarter inch long tube of hard flesh. He pinched the other for symmetry. And because it felt good. Below his jutting pectorals, his abdominal muscles formed high rounds, like a sixpack on edge. Not half-bad, he decided. His genitals were pressed forward by the meeting of deeply cut tree-trunk thighs that ran down into marble hard calves.
Slowly, deliberately, he drew his right arm up into a tight flex. He watched critically in the mirror as his biceps, still ripped from the earlier workout, surged into a satisfying mound of power, stretching the mahogany skin until it glistened. Yeah, he thought, I worked hard on this sucker, and I deserve to get some hot sex every now and then, even if I am as ugly as a dick-head.
Idly he scratched at the mat of hair in his armpit. It started growing there, he remembered, suddenly and fast about the same time his pecker started jumping. And, damn, it never stopped! Most brothers, he'd noticed, had flat kinks that just covered the surface of the skin, but not him. No way. He had fuckin' forests of coarse, scratchy black armpit hair. Same down below, come to think of it. He peered down at the bush that jutted out like an angry clump of black steel wool around the base of his penis.
Sensing the attention, his tool began to lengthen. "Whoa, none of that shit," Dak commanded his wayward prick. "We got work to do. Man, you been mighty demandin' ever since that hot halfback worked you over in summer camp."
He thought back to the episode several weeks before when, nearly at the end of training camp, he had finally succumbed to the temptation to let one of the other guys swing on his joint. Man, that whitebread was sure hot for it. Did a fine job, too. His ballsack tightened as he recalled how he'd been brought to climax, not twice but three times! He'd never had that happen before. He'd never really even thought about the possibility. Twice was a pretty racking job, if you didn't get a break in between. Never mind three times.
But this guy, after Dak had blown his nuts for the second time, had started licking the sweat off his thighs, then he worked his way up slowly, leisurely tonguing through the trail of hair that wended its way up from his bush to his navel.
Fuckin' nice, he remembered. That boy's tongue was washing me off so nice. Still had a streak of my jissom crawling down his cheek. I thought that was kinda fine the way he touched the edge of that glob of cum every now and then and licked his finger off . Like he was savin' it for later. His ol' tongue came up under my pecs an' then spent some little time swirlin' around each tit. I guess I was gettin' hard all the while, but I didn't really notice it, just relaxed and enjoyin' the tongue bath. And then that ol' boy started licking off to the side. Didn't know where he was goin' with it, but I was along for the ride, for sure. He reached up and moved my arm out so he could suck up a trail of sweat that was running down my side. And then he suddenly reared up and shoved his whole damn face right into my armpit. I got this weirdest feelin', like I'm pissing or something. I look down and there's this white stuff, like precum oozing out of my dick. I tell him, hey dude, lookit that shit, and faster than I can even see him move, he's back down my body, squatting between my legs and he's got his mouth stretched around my cockhead and he's drinking my runny load. It felt like I was gonna cum forever! Damn I never felt anything like that.
But the funny thing is, all the time I'm cumming I'm thinking, I wish it was that kid from last spring who was down there eatin' me. I mean this guy was fine and everything, and he sure as hell showed me something I never knew. I mean I didn't have any idea I'd get terminally turned on by havin' a face shoved in my armpit, but man, I sure did. Yeah, this guy was a cool dude all right. But there was something about that kid in the john stall in the social science building last spring. Well, shit, he swallowed me whole for God's sake! Hasn't anybody even come close to doing that before. Or since. And the way his hair was so soft and curly under my hands. I just called him "Babylamb" right out of the blue, as if I'd known him all my life and I knew that was really his name, it fit so good.
Dak felt a warm flush slowly turn his knobby cheeks purple. I can't believe I really did that about writing to him on the wall of that stall. I must have been crazy out of my mind. But, God, I hope he's still around campus. I hope he makes the connection and gets hold of me. I just wish to hell we'd had time to talk a minute before somebody came into the john. The kid ran away like he was being chased by wolves. I don't even know his name. Dammit, I just would really like to show him what I learned this summer. I bet he'd like it.
Dak suddenly realized that he hadn't let himself be gratified since that day at camp. Not by a hot pussy or a hot mouth. Well, to be fair, he never did get that much pussy, what with his ugly face and overgrown, frightening body. Chicks scattered when they saw him in the distance. Seemed like faggots weren't as fussy. Lucky for him. But he hadn't gotten any for a month, not even by his own strong hand. Man, he was fuckin' savin' his load for that little, curly headed queer! Jeeze, I can't believe this shit, he thought shaking his head.
The harsh sound of the telephone startled Dak. He lifted his head up off his folded arms. He'd fallen asleep over his text book.
"Hello, this's Dak Rollins."
A silence from the phone.
"Hello? Somebody there?"
"Uh... Yes. Uh, I am calling about the message which you have left for me in the social science building. At least I am believing that it is for me that you have left this message."
"Wait a minute. You the kid in the men's room last spring?"
"Yes, Mr. Rollins. Yes. You called me "Babylamb", I remember so clearly."
"Hey, all right!!! Man, I was hoping you'd still be around, and you'd go back in there. Hey, I never did anything like that before. Writing on john walls, I mean. But I didn't get a chance to get your name or anything, and I really want to see you again." Suddenly Dak heard himself running on and became shy. "I mean if you're interested, that is. Uh, are you?"
"Oh! Oh, yes! Please, yes. I would like that very much. I am flattered. And happy that you remember me."
"Oh, yeah. I remember you all right. Perfect, in fact."
"I remember you perfectly, also."
Dak reached down to caress his suddenly roiling nuts. He avoided any but a glancing contact with his prick. Son of a bitch wouldn't take much to blow a load to the ceiling, way it feels, he thought.
"So, what do ya say we get together sometime?" Dak asked.
"I will get together with you whenever you say, Mr. Rollins." The young voice was soft, a little hoarse. It was turning Dak way on.
"Hey, forget Mr. Rollins. My name's Dak. And what's yours, by the way? I don't want to hang up and forget to find out who you are again, for Chrisakes!"
"My name is Ion," said the youth.
Dak was straining to place the accent. Something European, he was pretty sure. Well, lucky me, he thought. Something exotic.
"Yon. Like in yonder?"
"Um... I don't know. I do not know what is 'yonder'. But you have said my name correctly."
"Well, Yon... Babylamb," Dak rolled the pet name over his tongue, feeling a responding jump in his half-hard cock. Damn, he was getting hot! "How about we get together tomorrow night, grab a coffee, whatever? How's that sound?"
There was a moment of silence. Then, "Uh, okay. I guess you are pretty busy tonight. I should not have called so late. Oh, no! I think I must have wakened you. I am so sorry. I did not think. I could not think after I read the message, only could I go quickly to a telephone and try to reach you at once! I am sorry! I can call you tomorrow in the daytime. Oh, I am stupid. Good night. Please forgive me." The accent thickened as the young man's distress grew more obvious.
"Hey, no, wait, wait, wait! Dak reached down the line with all the power of his urgency, to keep the kid from hanging up.
" No problem at all. You free tonight? That's great! Me too, as a matter of fact. Homework's all done. I was just thinking of going out, stretching my legs, you know? Jog a little, maybe. But I'd rather get together with you, for sure. Where you at?"
"I live in High Quad dormitory. I am there now. At home, I mean."
"Cool. You're right next to the Student Center. How about if I meet you on the front steps in, say, ten minutes? That okay?"
"I will be there."
Twill threw one leg over the arm of his chair, and slid the econ book farther down over his groin, covering his lengthening hardon. Pretending to study, he watched Ion out of the corner of his eye. Yeah, roomie, he thought, eyeing the firm buns under the well-worn, too-tight jeans. I'm gonna get that ass one of these days. It's just a matter of time, boy. Don't know who you were talking to just now, but I'm pretty sure I was hearing a man's voice. And look at you now. Face red. Breathing deep. And so focused on getting ready to go out you don't even know anybody else is in the room. God damn, you got you a date. With a man. That's fine, boyo. Now I know you want what I've got for you. No problem if somebody else breaks it in a little for me.
He watched, frankly staring now, as Ion pulled his T-shirt up over his head. Fuckin' great body, Twill mused. Can tell the kid's a gymnast. Damn good one, too, is what I hear. But not from him. Nah, he's a close mouthed one. Cuter'n hell. Lookit that roller coaster stomach, and those moons shaped pecs. How can such a little guy have such a deep chest? Ah shit, that's a body I have just plain got to fuck. Up the ass and down the throat and in those hairy black armpits. Yeah, I wanna shoot my load all over you, boy.
Hastily pulling on a loose sweat shirt, Ion grabbed up his wallet and his keys and sped out the door.
Well, now, Twill thought. That was a pretty nice show. Not as good as the one time I managed to grab a sight of the whole thing in its natural state, but nice anyway. Kind of makes me want some more. Nothing says I can't take a little walk, too. Maybe catch a glimpse of where he's headed. Maybe even see who with.
Twill slipped quietly out of the room.
Ion walked quickly, head down. If I let myself think, he mused, I will turn around and go back. How can I be doing this? I know only that since the first time I saw him on the playing field nothing else has been of importance to me. I have not felt this way before. I have not been brave enough to seek out a man even though I wanted to, always. Then, when he was there, in that restroom cubicle, and his trousers were down around his feet, and his manhood was visible, and it was as gigantic as all of the rest of him, I, at last, did not think at all. I only acted.
His head jerked up at the recollection, face reddening. I am glad I did that. Oh my God, how it hurt when my jaw went out of its socket as he pushed himself into me. But I was so proud to take it, and my own penis was throbbing so hard that I ignored the pain in my jaw. The second time it was easier, a little. I will do it again tonight, if only he will let me. It seemed like he thought I did a good job. A good blow job, they call it. His semen was so strong in taste. It doesn't taste like it smells, I think. But I know that I want more of it. More of his, only. No one else.
"Hey, there. Howya doin'?" A voice in the dark. Ion flinched. His head jerked toward the sound.
Dak stepped out of the shadows.
"Easy, man." Dak's big hand went around Ion's arm, steadying the smaller man. "Didn't mean to spook you. I guess I am kinda scary. Comin' out of the dark, especially. I'm sorry."
"No. You are not scary. It is me. I frighten easily in the dark. Like a girl. It is... from old times." Ion hanged his head for a moment. Then he smiled up at the homely face looming above his own. "You could not be scary to me. Thank you for seeing me again. For leaving the message." He paused a moment. "This is a time of new things for me. For you also, maybe?"
"Yeah." Dak agreed, his gently rumbling bass a counterpoint to the boy's soft tenor.
Dak fell in step and the two walked on.
"Yeah, seems like it is kind of a time for new things."
They walked in silence for a bit. Dak cleared his throat, began to speak, stopped. Finally he turned to face Ion, who had also come to a halt.
"Look," said Dak. "I don't want to play games, here. Do you want to come up to my place? Start up where we left off?"
"Yes!" Ion gestured for Dak to lead on.
After another two blocks of rapid, silent walking, Dak turned off onto the walkway leading to his rooming house.
"My landlady lives upstairs. Separate entrances, totally private, totally quiet."
He unlocked the door and led Ion into his home.
Interesting, Twill thought. He leaned against a wrought iron fence, two houses up the street. It's a man he was talking to all right. Dak Rollins, no less. One of the biggest men on campus. Possible Heismann contender. Guess I had it wrong. Rollins is as straight as it gets. Must be talkin' sports or something. Come to think of it, I suppose my ol' roomie's about as big in the world of gymnastics as Rollins is in football. Yeah, they probably do have a lot in common.
Well, fuckit. Long as I'm out and "interested", I might as well hit the bars, see what's shakin'.
Twill turned back the way he had come, heading for the bright lights of the city. And the dimmer lights of his favored haunts. His balls began to churn in anticipation.