The following is a story about life at the University to Oxford. This story is completely fictional and all resemblance to any persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. This story contains descriptions of sex between men. If the subject matter offends you or it is illegal to read or download such things in your jurisdiction please do not continue.
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Author.
===
Single at Oxford by Jeremy Allen
Part 3
Fifth week blues. The Oxford term is eight weeks long. We don't talk in calendar dates. No one says 'the 19th February' they say 'Thursday of 5th week.' It makes a whole lot more sense if you know you want to do something on Thursday and you know it's two weeks away. You don't have to start doing mental arithmetic to figure out the date, you just say 5th week.
5th Week is the worst week. Four weeks down, half way through the term but still another four to go. Another twelve essays to write. A month since you've not had to feel guilty for skipping a lecture. A month more of feeling guilty for not going to lectures.
For us lawyers however, it was more than a month. Our exams were in 9th week, better thought of as the first week of the holidays. Everyone gets to go home and we get nine hours of exams, the results of which dictate whether or not we'll get a good internship as it's the first, and last, formal assessment we have before finals.
We stopped learning new material last week and revision classes had begun. Dr Walter kicked off with criminal but Roman and Constitutional start next week. However, did I care? Not so much because right at that point I was walking through the University Parks next to a hunk of a guy who had made me cum four times since dinner the night before and the Sun was shining for the first time since Christmas. Ed and I hadn't spoken much on the walk. We were sharing a comfortable silence. It was nice.
'So,' I turned to him, 'do you have weekend plans?
'We have a bop tonight.'
'Cool, what's the theme?'
A bop is yet another piece of language unique to the dreaming spires. It's a specific kid of party. The whole college crowds into their bar, the drinks are on offer, the music is bad and everyone dresses up according to the theme.
'Tight and bright,' Ed said with very little enthusiasm.
'Do you have plans for the costume?
'I'm borrowing a friend from Worcester's rowing lycra. Black and hot pink. Bit of a cop out but I'm not feeling it much this week.'
'Oh, what's up?'
'Just a bit of fifth week blues I imagine. Plus a little tired after last night.' He looked sideways at me. We smiled at each other.
Walter's class was to be expected: trial by quick-fire question. We covered complicity, conspiracy and inchoate offences: the trickier parts of criminal law and not my forte. Still you get to learn of some ridiculous goings on, like the paedophile who sat in a boys' loo at a playground with a knife, a rope and various other implements but was let off attempted kidnap because he hadn't gone far enough... makes you wonder.
We filed out of Walter's office two hours later and I lingered waiting for Ed to to come out. He strode through the doorway pretty fast and turned away from me, towards the inner buildings of LMH.
'Ed!' I called out. 'Wait up.'
He paused and turned around. I jogged over to him and smiled. 'Are you about later? We could hit the law library.'
'Umm...' he began, 'perhaps. I've got to get a change of clothes and stuff. I'll text you' And he turned away and proceeded into a block of rooms.
I turned back towards the main quad. I hadn't cycled so had a bit of a walk to go. I hurried forward to try and catch Ben or Katie. No such luck. As I walked through the big oaken door I saw them unchaining their bikes. The only person who hadn't cycled up was Charlie. Damn, he'd spotted me.
'Heading back into town?' He asked. This was probably the longest thing he'd ever said to me that didn't involve the law.
'Yeah, you?
'Back to Oriel. Haven't had breakfast yet.'
I turned and walked on, my expression as unhostile as I could keep it. Up to him if he wanted to follow.
'How are you finding the revision?' He asked.
'I haven't really started in earnest. We only just finished new material and I could use a bit of downtime. Mods still seem a bit far away so I'm juts working to the revision classes.'
'Ah, yah, that could work. I don't think I need to do that much. Got it all right the first time.' Typical Charlie. If I had twenty minutes of this to walk through I was not going to be happy. I was only going into town to swing by the OUSU building and chat with the newspaper editors about a feature on Mods. I didn't need to do it now. They'd be in all Friday storyboarding the back section and we had an evening meeting to dole out assignments.
'Risa tonight?' He asked. Bar Risa was one of the clubs in town and it's student night was Friday.
'Maybe. Depends on how people feel at dinner. I'm quite tired so maybe just a few drinks in the JCR bar and bed.'
'You go often?'
'Yeah a bit. Maybe every two or three weeks.' This was better. Please let the conversation stick to something where he won't be able to brag: the mertis of various venues.
'I go every week. Got a good bit of banter going with the doorman. Important that, good banter. Don't need to queue mostly.' Here we go...
'Yeah, I can get in just like that,' he said snapping his fingers, 'and the poon line up for it. Easiest girls in Oxford... well except for the Brookes girls. I get some practically every week.' I try to phase him out, cycling through my mental playlist. I pick some Vaughan Williams and begin to hum along.
'... it was great... great tits... didn't even want my number after... went straight home... then this other time... awesome... doggy... just sucked me off there.' I got to my favourite leitmotif as I became aware he'd shifted to talking about me. I think a question is coming. Pause track.
'... look of a single man about you. Not got a girlfriend have you?' He asked it jovially enough, not an accusation or mockery.
'No, single since September.'
'Left the old girl behind eh? Don't wanna be tied down coming up here to sow your wild oats?'
'Something like that.' I do not want to talk about Tom with this rah twat.
'So where you getting it? Not having to rely on the old Pamela Handerson are you?'
'In the arse,' is what I want to reply but reach instead for a non-committal. 'You know, here and there. I'm very satisfied this morning actually.'
'Really? Anthony, you dog! Who was she. Any good'
'Wouldn't you like to know. Let's just leave it at three times last night and once this morning. Now, this is me.' I gestured off to Beaumont Street where I needed to turn. See ya Charlie,' and with that I sped off across St Giles, a deathtrap to cross if ever there was one and you took what windows in the traffic were there. I didn't turn round to see how my last comment went down.
I walked over to the OUSU building on Bonn Square and into the newspaper office. One big goldfish tank room with a bunch of decrepit Macs. I had a stint on the news desk in my first term and got a few stories published but this term I said I'd do a feature or two so as not to clash with Mods. Only the editors were in because we'd published on Thursday morning. Any news stories that broke before the weekend would be too old for the next edition and the features writers like me generally work on their own computers and only come in to do the layout. I pitched my idea to Kasia, the editor who does more of the back section: a diary through Mods to be published in the 0th week issue of Trinity. We could run a parallel feature on how to survive prelims, the exams that generally the other first years do at the end of the academic year. It went down well and I left happy, content in a good morning of sex, study and CV building. I deserved a Moo Moo's.
Moo Moo's was in the covered market. A milkshake bar with over 200 flavours. Pick anything and they'll turn it into a milkshake. I go for Ferrero Rocher normally but now that the weather is turning sunnier maybe some fruit? No. Chocolate. I want to indulge.
I sipped my milkshake as I strolled down the High Street back to Hilda's. On Magdalen Roundabout I came across Tara. We broke into smiles and came together at the head of Cowley Place. We turned towards college and she began her interrogation.
'Well?' She asked, 'what happened.'
'We stayed in and didn't go clubbing. We walked up to LMH this morning.'
'Nice.' She said, 'I'm really happy for you. And..? going to see him again?'
'Oh for sure, at least for the net few weeks of revision classes. We'll see about being naked again.'
'You want to be?'
'Well I wouldn't kick him out of bed again. He's hot as hell and great in bed.'
'Relationship?'
'Let's not go there. We had sex, it was great, I'd like to do it again but this is the first person I've even pulled at uni and I have my mods.'
'Fair enough.'
'How's your love life anyway?'
'Dry as the sahara. Don't go there. Oh, we've decided to have a party tonight. You should come. Just drinks and pizza, nothing amazing'
We made our way to the buttery and got a toastie each and dissected the morning's Cherwell, the rival student newspaper. Tara had to leave for OUSU council, three hours of debate on student campaigns and I resigned myself to reading a few articles on the separation of powers. I sent Ed a text to see if he'd be up for joining and headed to the law library, one of the few buildings ugly enough to rival Garden. I found Ben and Katie on a table by the windows and joined them. A few hours of legal commentary and a coffee break or two later, they were both caught up on the events of last night. As the sun went down we called it a day.
I went back to my room to drop off my books and saw the mess we'd left it in this morning. I bundled up the sheets and picked up the various spent wrappers and dropped them in the bin, where I'd left it outside the door so my scout wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath. Scouts are the cleaners in the colleges and empty your bins for you. If you don't want them to come in and wake you up with their rustling (which can be at any time between 8-11am) you leave your bin outside the door. This is especially wise if you've pulled. Like I did. Last night. With an insanely fit guy. What a gleeful feeling.
As I put my discarded clothes away and stripped the bed I thought back to last night and how great it had been. I checked my phone again to see if Ed had been in touch but nothing. He was probably at dinner now or pre-gaming for the bop. I thought about how good he'd look stretching out that rowing singlet. He wouldn't be able to hide it from anyone if he sprang a boner. Oops, I just have.
I grabbed my crotch and started kneading my junk and the thought of a wank seemed like a really good idea. I'd just laid back on my clean and crisp smelling sheets and was pulling my pants to my ankles when my phone rang. I grabbed it hoping for Ed but it was Tara
'Hey we're about to order, where are you?'
'It's a bit early isn't it? I'm still at college.'
'Ok, well you can get in on the pizza or come later, up to you.'
My stomach rumbled, it had been a while since that toastie. My dick was rock hard but began to soften. Between my libido and my stomach it seemed my stomach won out.
'Count me in for the pizza, never mind the toppings as I'll just go veggie with you. I'll grab some gin and see you in 20. Want anything else from Tesco?'
'More limes if that isn't too much trouble.'
'Not in the slightest, see you shortly.'
I stuffed my floppy but still engorged dick back into my tight black boxers and headed out into the night.
The party was great. Nice and chilled, just a good group of people, some good tunes and a merry buzz. Some time between midnight and one my phone buzzed. I saw Ed's number and flipped open to read the text.
'You free?' is all it said.
'At a party. How was the bop?' I responded.
'It's over now. Want to come round?'
Hmm... a half hour walk to a night of passion or some more drinks and wank before bed? Libido trumps fatigue. Plus I could cycle most of the way on paths so it wouldn't matter if I'd necked half a bottle of gin.
'I'll be 20min' I shut off my phone and said my goodbyes. A fair chorus of 'sexy tiiiime' went round, initiated by Katie. Looks like the cat's out of the bag.
A brisk walk back to Hilda's in the February night air cut my senses quite well and I felt remarkably more sober. I was shivering, but not from the cold. The adrenaline was coursing through me from excitement. I unlocked my bike and sped off up to the frozen north.
Ed texted me his room number and I knocked on the door, only a little out of breath from the rush. He opened the door and what a sight to behold. He was in the singlet still, but had pulled the shoulder straps off and it was hanging around his waist. His broad chest, a little sweaty rose with his breathing. It seemed like I was drinking him in for minutes but it can't have been more than a second or two.
'Hi,' he said, 'come in.' He had some neon yellow spray in his black hair which caught his hand as he tried to run his fingers through it. I strode in and shrugged my coat off as I turned around.
'Hey yourself,' I replied.
We walked to each other and began to kiss. There was desire in his kiss and passion. He kissed me hard and fiercely. I felt a sense of something primal from him. He hadn't shaved and the light scratch from his pronounced 5 o'clock shadow drove me wild. I pulled back and looked into his eyes. He returned the gaze and I knew he wanted me. I let my eyes travel downwards over his perfect body and down to the lycra at his crotch. I pulled it down and there was his cock, half hard and not a shred of underwear in sight. I looked back up to him and he chuckled and pressed down on my shoulder. I went down to my knees and took the head of his dick in my mouth. I lashed my tongue around it eliciting a small moan. I sucked the rest of his steadily stiffening rod into my mouth and swallowed. He buckled slightly and cried out. The lycra was still round his knees and I found it more arousing. I bobbed back and forth on his hard wood and I could feel his pulse on my tongue. As he reached full mast he began to stretch out my throat and my eyes began to water.
I pulled of to catch my breath and looked up at my man for the night. He smirked down at me and held the side of my head in one hand and began to drum his cock on my face. I held my tongue out to lick when I could and he began to get a mischievous look in my eye. He slapped his cock down on my tongue three times before growling and forcing it into my mouth again. With both hands he to my head and began to skull fuck me. I took the lycra-encased globes of his ass in my hands. I began to splutter and drool and he pulled out. I got to my feet and pulled off my t-shirt as the lycra fell to the floor. He pushed me onto the bed and fell on top of me, burying his face in my neck.
I felt the puckered peck of kisses before a moist sensation and a caress of teeth. I writhed under him as my favourite erogenous zone was stimulated. He hummed a sound of contentment and began to bit down.
'Ah!' I cried, both in pleasure and in pain. 'Uh! Yes!'
He knelt up, straddling me and pushed down on my chest, rubbing his cock on my flat stomach. This man was beautiful. A Colin Farrell-type grade A stud. He shuffled back and undid my fly then stood up and pulled my jeans off by the ankles. I shifted out of my boxers and smiled up at him. He got back on top of me and took hold of my dick as we kissed. He jacked my cock slowly as our tongues massaged one another and our lips. With his other hand I heard him reach in a drawer. A rustle and a small pop and then I felt a cool moist finger probe my hole. A little circle and then it went straight in. I winced and he added more lube, all this time his lips never left mine. Our breaths mingled and our chests were swelling in unison.
He took his weight off me and turned my over by the ankles. He pulled me back and I felt his cockhead resting against my hole. With his hands on my hips he applied pressure and I felt myself stretching to accommodate him. He didn't let up, he just kept pushing at a constant rate and my tight hole began to feel the burn. I bit down hard on the pillow and he dug his fingers into my hips. I felt his pubes tickle my skin first, quickly followed by the pressure of his groin on my ass. He bared his weight down upon me and nuzzled my neck. His hands felt up my sides and along my arms. He pinned my hands down and clamped his teeth on my shoulder. I was ready for his fuck.
He raised his hips slowly up and then back down, his smooth lubed cock sliding effortlessly in. He pulled out again and drove in harder this time and pulled out longer then drove in like a piston. He was testing me and I didn't protest. He began to pick up the pace: long hard strokes using the full length of his dick driving into me with such force it was like he wanted me stuck to the bed. I began to moan with it and his breathing became audible. I couldn't see him but I could feel every muscle in his chest like steel against my back.
He drove down repeatedly and I really got the term 'nailing.' Again and again his cock filled me and I moaned in ecstasy juxtaposed to his stern, stoic silence. I turned my head and tried to kiss him, he leaned in but the angle was wrong and it felt forced so I turned back down into the pillow to just enjoy the sensation of being drilled. He continued, on and on at the same rate just fucking like a champ. I tried to mix it up, rising onto my knees but he didn't want any of that as he pushed my head into the pillow. He picked up pace and intensity and I could hear his body slapping into mine. The bed began to shake and bang against the wall but that didn't put him off. He took his hand off my head and held tight to hips. I lifted my head and held my eyes tight shut fully experiencing the pleasure of his dick coursing through me. He let out a short gasp and a long sigh and slowed his pace before pulling out. I rolled onto my back and with a few quick strokes I shot my own load with a shiver, thoroughly painting my chest. I smiled and looked over at him. He was occupied with cleaning up and tossed me a bog roll.
'Do you want to stay?' he asked.
'If you don't mind.'
'No, that's fine.'
He got into bed next to me and turned out the light.
This story is my first time writing fiction, erotic or otherwise, since my creative writing assignments in school. I'd love to get feedback and will continue to write if it's more positive than negative: dotcomme@gmail.com
Thanks for reading,
Jeremy