==If you are under eighteen, please do somewhere else. If gay porn offends you, scram. Others, WELCOME FRIENDS.
This seems like an old story-but with a twist. You know the drill, a gay guy, Jake, (that's me) and straight guy, Bobby, sharing a room at college. The college is a well-known New England College. No use revealing it for the purposes of this story. We are both twenty, both sophs. This is the first year either of us have shared a room. The first t year I had my own room, but it was too much of a financial load on my family so I agreed to this new arrangement. It was good. Bobby is the easiest guy to room with. He's naturally polite, sunny natured, and as neat as I am. Outside of the fact that I go out on Saturday nights to dance at a gay oriented club and he goes on dates with a succession of girls is the only difference between us. We both are avid tennis players when weather permits, otherwise ping-pong. Three times a week we do weight lifting, and Bobby has helped getting me in shape. You know college is the place that most guys get to look like the Doughboy. Bobby's body is lean and muscular. We both love poker and have a group who drink and curse and argue over our penny poker games.
We are both, are at least try to be, ethical in our relationships with others. Bobby's girl friends often tell me that he is polite and never pushy sexually. One girl says, we end up making the moves. I also learned what I shouldn't have, that he is an outstanding lover. "Very versatile," said one girl. I think that means that he does oral.
I have had only one sex-pal this year. It is more friendship than sex. I call it gay-light. I have my needs, and Tom meets them nicely, but neither of us fools ourselves into thinking that this is the grand passion of our lives.
Tom knows my problem that is one reason it is so comforting to have him as a friend. He knows that I am obsessing over Bobby. I have never had anyone rock me like he has. I love the guy...secretly. I would never jeopardize our great friendship by ever suggesting it. Of course Bobby knows I am gay. He treats it as if it was nothing more important than the fact that I have bright red hair, which I do. What a rare guy. When I fall in love, I pick the best.
Bobby is so comfortable in his heterosexuality that I know there are no little chinks that I might explore. He is a straight guy. He has no bi anything about him. Too bad, what a loss for me and the entire world of gaydom, for Bobby is a doll-baby, a white blond, curly-headed, blue-eyed, perfect skinned, muscled, puffy lipped, nice cocked, white teethed, six feet paragon of male beauty. The best part is that he doesn't know he is gorgeous. He dresses in a way that begs gay guys to want to take him under their wing and tell him to burn those clothes. You know, sweats, wrinkled cargos, saggy sneakers and no sox. I'd love to see him in some nice colors, like pink and blue, white shorts, Rugby tops. Oh well, it ain't goin' happen.
You are probably wondering what I look like....maybe not. I am the guy who you think you saw before because I look so much like other guys. I'm five foot nine, square faced, pretty muscular, somewhat hairy with an almost baldy haircut. My best features are my very large pale eyes and thick lips. I dress excellently, I think.
Bobby always awakes in the morning with a big...smile. I could kill him for it. Six in the AM is no time to be cheerful. He generally pokes my bed, which is across the room to get me up. He owns the alarm clock. I open one eye and most mornings I am greeted with a view of Bobby's morning erection pushing his well-worn, formerly tight briefs into a cone shape. Bobby is totally comfortable with his cock and with nakedness as well. It never occurred to him that he was driving me into serious dizziness by his crossing the room to shower, totally naked, his hairless, perfect body on display. Oh shit and fuck to the tenth degree.
Now our lives together had reached a nice equipoise. That is, until two seminal occurrences, both involving alcohol. The first was during that famous blizzard that paralyzed all of New England. We were both marooned in our room. Classes were cancelled and there was no way we could navigate six feet of heavy snow. We made the best of it, we had lots of power bars and five six packs in the corner. The electricity came and went several times. We began drinking in the AM and by the time it got dark, the lights were off again and we sat and talked together in candlelight, drunk and sloppy confidential. You know the feeling, we were very wise and the end of the next sentence could solve all the world's problems.
I learned a lot about Bobby that afternoon. His mother died in childbirth, his birth. I think he carried guilt about it. His father, whom I have not yet met, was a Major General. While he was an army brat, raised by a housekeeper, he was lucky in that his father had a permanent station and they didn't move around like most army folks.
"Do you get along with your Dad?" I asked, thinking of the stereotype of generals, gleaned from the movies.
Bobby was quiet for a long time. I thought I had crossed the line in asking. "Yes, I could say that he was tyrannical." He was quiet another moment, "He beat me...a lot."
"Hey Bobby, I didn't mean to pry into your life. Shit we are so wasted."
He ignored me, speaking almost to himself. Jake, you ought to know that he is a secret homosexual. I never knew until a few years ago when I put the pieces together. He always has a good-looking young driver. I noticed that those drivers changed, but they were always somewhat effeminate. Oh fuck, I don't mean that all gays are that way. You aren't. You're..."
"I can pass, right?"
He looked at me seriously. "Jake, if I was gay, you'd be the one I'd pick."
Oh, oh, oh, stupid me, I began getting emotional and sobbed a bit. Bobby put his arm around me. "I didn't mean to upset you. Maybe we should end this beer bust and get some sleep before we pass out."
That was quite a peek into the usually calm Bobby, the Bobby who hid his knowledge about this father up to then.
The next big happening also involved a drunk Bobby. He and I both feel strongly about cheating at exams. I tell you it is common. Kids at this college have the most ingenious ways of getting over the system. Methods use electronics, answers on the inside of sunglasses and even more exotic methods. Stupid us, we just studied. Consequently we did not have spectacular marks.
Now Bobby had this one girl friend for over two months. For him, that was like getting married. She was crazy about him and I think his natural niceness responded and he didn't have the heart to hurt her and move on. In any event, Maria worked in the language department. She produced the test booklets and reproduced them. Bobby was studying Arabic. His father had insisted that it would further his career. He hated it and was shitty in it. He must have moaned to Maria. She gave him a copy of the test and answers. He aced the test. On the way back to our room, he stopped for three hours at the pub on campus and drank five schooners. He arrived noisily in the door, staggering and stamping around, throwing the door open so hard that it banged against the opposite frame.
I looked up from my laptop. I could see right away he was totally shit-faced. His cheeks were blush red, his eyes squinty, his forehead creased and he was crying. I jumped up. "Bobby, what's wrong?"
"I am a bad person. I cheated the test. I want to be punished."
He spoke in a funny way, almost like an automaton, or a child. I was open-mouthed, not sure what to do. Then he came over to me and continued in that almost child-like voice. "I need a spanking." He suddenly pulled off his shorts and briefs and weaved his way over to where I was sitting and lay across my legs. I was only in my under shorts and his warm legs lay across mine. I couldn't help it, I got hard.
"Do it now Daddy, please."
I didn't fully process the significance of what he had said, but I knew that he really wanted me to spank him. I had never spanked anyone before. I looked down at this perk ass checks, that triangle of fine hair above his ass cheeks and the fuzzy blonde hair in the crack between his pear halves. It seemed that warmth rose from him.
"Please," he moaned plaintively.
I raised one hand and slapped his right buttock. The sound echoed in our small room.
"Harder, Daddy, like you always do."
I had lost myself normal sensibilities as I obeyed. I slapped him again. I could see a blurry imprint of my hand on the flawless cheek. I hit his other half equally hard and then I lost it. I began slap after slap. I was breathing hard, he was moaning. Finally reason made me stop.
I became aware that his cock was stiff and he was leaking pre cum over my bare legs. I could even smell the sour-sweet odor. He lifted himself so that he was laying sideways. "Suck me, like you always do."
I leaned down and licked the wetness off the head of his penis. He moaned loudly. "More."
I took his generous penis into my mouth and suckled avidly. Now he was mumbling gibberish, almost baby talk. I decided I had to finish this mind blowing and cock blowing experience. I allowed his cock to slide down into my throat. I swallowed rapidly giving him great stimulation. He was almost singing now, crowing or crooning crazily.
"Hit me again," he called.
I raised my hand and slapped the dimpled side of his ass. He stiffened and began discharging his load into my throat. I swallowed all of it. When he had delivered all he had he sagged limply over my lap. I lifted his head. He was unconscious. I lifted him up and carried him to his bed. I put him under the covers and I could hear his even breathing indicating he was asleep. It was only about five in the afternoon.
I went out to the caf‚ and had a small bite of sandwich and coffee. About a hour had passed since I put Bobby to bed. I came in, he was sitting up. "How you feeling?"
"Oh, my head is banging, my mouth feels like cat litter, my muscles are sore and my ass hurts. Other than that, I am okay. Did you eat?"
"Yeah, you want me to go back and get something for you?"
"Eeew, don't mention food. I'm going to go back to sleep. See you in the AM pal."
He seemed his usual self in the morning. As the day went by, and other days that followed, I realized that he had no recollection of the spanking or the blow job. You might think that it was open season to enlist him into our team, but I could see that Bobby was still the straight guy.
I lost track of him after college. We had no further contact although we were close until graduation. Yes, graduation and the first time I met the general. Bobby kept reminding me that his father was coming and will be visiting our room. He checked everything for the fifth time, again smoothed the perfect beds. The General arrived, he was slim, almost imperial of figure, followed by a young corporal I could immediately see was gay. Bobby stood tall, called the General sir. The General walked around the room, I swear, doing an inspection.
Apparently we passed. The General cleared his throat. "Robert, I was able to get you a place in the program for intelligence officer training. With your Arabic and my connections, you are a shoo-in."
"Thank you, sir."
I was amazed that he was accepting this career decision by his father. I know his main interest was lit and history. Oh well.
Separating from Bobby was painful, but good for me. His constant presence was frustrating. Now I could get on and perhaps find a boy as beautiful, but one who was gay.
End