Another story "based on actual events" of a gay college kid. Hope you enjoy. Comments to Scot Thompson at needit83@hotmail.com.
My Hero
When I was 19 and still in college, I took a roadtrip to Columbus, Ohio, where I planned to go dancing at a gay bar downtown called the Garage -- great big place, with a huge dance floor and a quiet, laid-back room up front -- maybe you've been there. Anyway, it was Saturday about midnight, I had parked out behind the place in this large dark parking lot, and I was making my way toward the club entrance when I heard a voice behind me -- "Hey, faggot." Before I could react, I was shoved to ground and kicked squarely in the stomach. Immediately the breath went right out of me, and I thought I was going to pass out. When I rolled over I saw a young white kid wearing a blue parka and knit hat just a foot away from my face, as he tried to shove me back down and search my pockets. Just as suddenly, he started to rise up off the ground and away from me like he was being sucked into the sky by a tornado. "Hey" I heard him shout, as went sailing over the hood of a nearby car. I heard his body land with a thump and a roll, then he was on his feet, running, and yelling. "Fucking faggots! Fucking faggots!" I still couldn't breathe, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the lone figure above me -- a very tall, very large, man in his 30s wearing a black leather bikers jacket. He bent down to help me. "Are OK?" I couldn't answer. Still no breath. "Relax. I think he just knocked the wind out you," he said calmly. "Just take short breaths. Here, let me help..." He quickly reached under the front of my belt and effortlessly lifted me up so my back came off the ground -- like my 5'7" 135 lb. frame was made out of balsa wood. "This should help." God he's strong, I thought, looking into his eyes. I was beginning to breathe now. And I was beginning to cry. God, I am such a fag, I thought. "Hey, it's OK. He's gone now." He had such a reassuring voice. Strong and compassionate. I couldn't take me eyes off of him. He helped me up as I slowly got to my feet. "Fucking asshole," I said. The tall guy sort of froze all the sudden. "No, the other guy," I said almost in a panic. "You're ...great. You're wonderful. Thank you so much." "No problem," he said, still holding my shoulder with his large hands. What a smile. Nice white teeth. Double chin. Blue eyes. Blond surfers hair. Wow, I thought. "Good thing I came around the corner when I did. We've had a problems with some kids around here," he said, gesturing about. I thanked him profusely and offered that I'm such an idiot, I should have been paying more attention, you see, I'm a college student and I'm here on a road trip and I was just so excited to go dancing I ... "Let's just go in," he suggested. Once inside, things didn't go quite like I had begun to hope. He asked if I was OK again, then told me to have fun but "be careful," and he disappeared into the crowd. I followed him with my eyes as long as I could, only to see him hug some cute Asian boy who grabbed his ass playfully when they met. Shit. I drank. I danced. I actually ended up having a good time after all, but I kept wondering what had happened to my hero. It was about 3 a.m. when I finally decided it time to head back to my friend's apartment where I was staying. I gathered up my coat and was heading out the door when someone caught my arm. "So, how did your evening turn out?" It was him. My hero. Whose name turned out to be Bryan, actually. A former high school football player and body builder, it turned out, who was just happy he could help. "Not as happy as I am," I said. "I just wish I could do something for you." I had been drinking, so I'm sure my subtle come on came across as subtle as an offer from a street hooker. He laughed. "Let me walk you to you car," he said. Now we're talkin'. Outside, I tried to walk as closely as I could next him, so that I literally was in his shadow from the street lights. We came to my car -- an old rusted station wagon -- much too soon. "Well, good night," he said. "Yeah, good night." And he walked away! No, that was not going to be the end of this story. I'm certainly not to proud to chase a man! I caught him as he getting on his motorcycle, a black Yamaha superbike. "Want to take me for a ride?" I said. Then I winked. I actually winked. He roared with laughter. "Sure, I'd love to take you for a ride." The night air was cold, but the city was so beautiful, almost completely abandoned now, and Bryan was so warm. I held on the his barrel of a back and chest and pressed myself against him as we rounded corners and cruised down empty city blocks. He stopped at a warehouse on the west side of town. "This is where I live. Want to come up?" "Yes, Bryan, I want to come up. And I want to stay a while, if you don't mind." He was a photographer and had a studio loft on the top floor of the warehouse with a magnificent view that faced the skyscrapers and lights of the city. "Isn't it beautiful," he said, as we stood in the dark loft taking in the view. I turned to face him. "Not as beautiful as you," I said. I touched his wonderful face, his broad square jaw. I pulled myself up against him, so that his massive 6'3" 260-pound statue of a body towered over me. I ran my hands under his jacket, inside his shirt, and up the broad V-shape of his lats and back. As I unbuckled his belt, and popped each button on the fly of his 501 jeans, I whispered to him. "I owe you a little something, I think." I got on my knees and began to offer my sincerest thank you. Have you ever held a perfect cock in your hands? A really perfect piece of warm, rock hard, oozing manmeat -- the kind that God would have if he granted himself such delights. Taking it in both hands and guiding it toward me, I put the bulging head in my soft wet mouth and sucked tantalizingly, then began a long slow descent, until the hilt of his weapon met the cap of my sheath. The sweet clear nectar of his balls greeted me -- a delicious appetizer for the more succulent meal that awaited, I was sure. I pulled his cock from my throat and mouth for a moment to speak. "This is for being a man, Bryan -- the first gift I will give you tonight." In complete understanding, he moaned, closed his eyes, and took my head in my hands. In selfish, pounding frenzied passion, he used me. His cock throbbed in my throat. He balls tensed and contracted. Finally, his seed exploded in a torrential rush. He pulled his spent cartridge from my breech. "Now for your second gift." In a moment, I was naked on the bed, climbing and servicing every desire in his mind and body. His lips. His tits. His ass. His thighs. His toes. And in this manner, I awoke his sleeping giant. I got on my hands and knees before him, facing away on the bed, and lower my head and shoulders till they were buried in mattress. I gently inserted a finger in my ass as a made a show of my next offering. "This is my second gift to you tonight." That was the moment I learned what it really meant to get fucked. Deeply. Forcefully. Aggressively. With his hands on my hits and his cock in my ass, he pounded and lunged till I thought my bowels would catch fire. His seed first spent in my luscious throat, he took his time now to enjoy all that I was giving him. Five minutes. Ten minutes. When would he stop? He rolled me over, and as I wrapped my legs around me, he lifted me off the bed. I was completely in his hands, held securely in his arms, as he continued to pound me and impale me with a unrelenting hunger. We collapsed on the bed, his member still inside me, his sweat dripping down upon me in a sweet slow rain. He came again, this time more furious and loud and angry. His pumping engine inside me was all that I needed to satisfy myself. My hot fluid splashed off his stomach, and dripped down below where it mixed with his essence now draining from inside me. We held each other for a long time. Morning came. We dressed, and as the sun rose over the city, he took me back to my car. "I have one more gift for you," I said, and gave him one last passionate kiss. He road off, and I never saw him again.