Disclaimer and Legal Stuff: Don't read this if you're not supposed to, either because you live in a regressive community or you don't like erotic stories about gay sex (in which case, why are you here?). If you distribute this story, that's fine, just don't edit it, and leave my name on it. Thanks.
Student Orientation
Chapter Three
By
MaineBoyXY@aol.com
Tom stalked over to stand directly in front of me as I sat naked on the bed. I looked up at him as he frowned down at me. "What did I do wrong?" I asked, confused.
He said nothing, and reached up to slide his plaid shirt from his shoulders. He folded it and tossed it over to the empty bed behind him. He reached down and pulled off the white T-shirt he'd been wearing underneath, and for the first time I saw his chest. It was firm and tight, but not sculpted with ripped abs and pecs -- it was the natural look of a guy active in casual sports. He had a small patch of light hair right over his breastbone, but was otherwise hairless until the trail began at his navel and continued down under his shorts.
"Stand up," he said softly. I stood, and we were close enough that I felt the warmth of his body even though we didn't touch. He looked down at my hard cock, and as I looked down, I could see the bulge beginning to rise in his own shorts. "You haven't gotten off all day, Jeff," he said. I was acutely aware of that, but I hadn't expected him to care. He reached down and unbuttoned his shorts, and they fell easily to the ground. He wore no underwear, and his hardening cock pointed at me. His eyes returned to mine, then he lifted his hands to my shoulders and turned me away. He turned me towards the windows, and then he guided me forward until I was only a few feet away from the sill of the room's center window.
He stepped in towards me and I felt the front him pressing against my back. I felt his cock, throbbing now, lining up from the top of my ass crack and reaching up to the small of my back. He wrapped his hands around me so that they rested on my pecs. He stroked them softly and pinched my nipples lightly. He suddenly clamped his fingertips down, and I gasped and writhed back against him. He let go and I looked down as his hands glided slowly down my chest and over my abs. He rested them over my waist, under my navel, and I felt his hair on my ear a split-second before his lips kissed my shoulder. He kissed slowly, and then he opened his mouth and bit softly.
I jumped as I felt one hand brush my cock, and then the other wrap loosely around my balls. Tom's fingers closed on my cock, and he gently fisted me. "I watched you sucking off Hayden," he whispered. "You liked it, didn't you?"
"Yeah." His hands felt awesome on me, one sliding my skin up and down on my cock, which made my sack slip up and down in the other.
"Why did you like it?"
I wanted to concentrate on the way he was touching me. Having a conversation was getting pretty distracting. "Uh, because I'm a cocksucker?"
"Yeah, you're a cocksucker, but why did you enjoy sucking off Hayden? Are you a slut? Will you go down on any guy who lets you drop his shorts and lick his dick?"
"No!" I protested. Hand job notwithstanding, I started to turn around. Hell, I'd only been with one guy before this fucked up day. Through all of high school, I'd been with one guy, and not even that until my senior year. Of course, I hadn't wanted to come out at home, and it's not easy to hook up in the closet. Still, I didn't think of myself as a slut.
The hand cupping my balls moved up to the center of my chest, and he held me tightly against him to keep me from moving away. "Then why did you blow him?"
"Because you told me to!"
Tom was quiet and after a few minutes I calmed down and let the hand job wash over me. He moved his mouth up to nip at my earlobe, and his hand slowly ran down my chest again. Eventually, it made its way back down and its fingers stroked along my thighs while he continued to beat me off. I could feel wetness on the small of my back, and realized it was his precum. I lifted my head and began to rock my hips as I felt my orgasm approaching -- I was too self-absorbed to think about how the motion was rubbing my body against his cock. As Tom's hand again closed on my nuts, I felt him mouthing my neck, right where it joined my shoulder. I whimpered as I felt the cum churning in my balls, which were drawing up tight to my body. Tom curled the forefinger and thumb of that hand around my sack, holding my balls down. I pressed back hard against him, and I clearly felt his cock pulsing, trapped between us.
"If I told you not to do anyone else on campus, would you do it?"
In that moment, seconds from shooting my load, wrapped in the warmth of his chest against my back, his cock along my spine, his fist around my cock, his fingers around my balls, I gave in. I knew what the answer was, and I didn't care anymore. "Oh, fuck!" I muttered. "I'd do whatever the fuck you told me."
With that, Tom closed his fist tightly around my balls, squeezing the cum up from them as he rapidly pounded my cock. I cried out at the sensation, so inseparably painful and pleasurable, as my spunk boiled up and erupted through my slit. At the first spurt, Tom released my nuts, but continued pistoning my rod as my slick sperm coated his fingers and lubricated his masturbation of my dick. My knees began to give way, and he quickly held me up by wrapping his free arm around my waist. As almost a dozen shots fired from me, my top half folded and I rested my forearms on the open window in front of us.
When I felt I could produce no more, and as every muscle in my body spasmed in the aftermath of the unbelievable and unprecedented orgasm, Tom stopped his hand just below the crown of my cock. He used his thumb, slippery from my spunk, to rub over and around the sensitive head. Overstimulated, I jerked my hips back, trying to escape the sensation. It was precisely then that I realized his cock had slipped down into my crack when I'd bent at the waist. I cried out both from the pain in my cock and the pain in my ass as, unprepared, I'd inadvertently impaled myself on about an inch of his shaft. I tried to move forward, but that arm that had so benevolently held me up only a minute before now held me in position.
"Ow, Jesus! Shit! God, Tom, take it out! Let me go!" I yelled.
Tom didn't move, but his grip never relaxed either. "Shhh. Relax," he said quietly as he leaned down to kiss the back of my neck. His hand left my cock, and I felt the warm wetness as he used the cum, my cum, that covered it to lube the lips of my asshole and the exposed length of his shaft. Once he'd slathered on a fair coating, he slipped his arm under my torso and raised the hand to my face. The other arm still held me by the waist.
"Clean my hand up, Jeff," he said. It wasn't a commanding tone, it was almost an invitation. My hole still aching from the unexpected entry, but still partially awash in the afterglow of my orgasm, I lowered my mouth to his fingers and began licking off my spunk. As he slipped his fingers gently into my mouth, I felt him begin to press his cock gently into my ass. I started to gasp, but he felt my muscles tense. "Just relax. Suck on my fingers, Jeff. Think about the orgasm you had; savor how it felt as you savor your cum."
I sucked on his fingers frantically as I felt the friction of his cock sliding the rest of the way inside my ass. The pressure of his cockhead on my prostate as it passed made my breath catch in my throat and my own dick, even freshly milked, twitch. He pulled his fingers from my mouth in time with his withdrawal, as he slid his cock back until just the head remained inside me. I knew what would come next, so my mouth sought out his hand and closed around the other two fingers.
He rammed into me with one, long, hard thrust, and I whimpered around his hand. He held still inside me, and I released his fingers. I began to swipe my tongue all over his hand. The last vestiges of my cum disappeared into my mouth, and he pulled his hand back while he began rotating his hips. His cock corkscrewed into my ass, and I pressed my forehead into my forearms which braced me against the windowsill. "Oh, God," I called out. I felt both his hands grip the sides of my hips, and he began a steady fuck of my ass.
He felt so good. I'd been fucked before, but never with a cock as long as Tom's. The way it struck my prostate on each thrust, and then kept going inside my guts, was a new feeling. My cock was hardening again under me and I reached one hand down to stroke it.
"Hands on the window, Jeff," Tom sternly commanded. I groaned a complaint, but replaced my forearm on the sill. Tom's strokes quickened and shortened so that only an inch or two of his length coursed in and out between my ass lips. His cockhead never seemed to leave my prostate, either bumping over it, rubbing passed it, or withdrawing. I was grunting at each thrust now and my cock throbbed at each contact. I could hear Tom's ragged breathing above me, and suddenly he buried his cock deep inside me. I felt his fingers crushing against my hipbones as he yelled incoherently. He began stroking the full length of his cock through my insides as he came, and when the third of these strokes hit that spot at the root of my dick, I felt myself erupt again.
I'd never cum so quickly in sequence and the intensity of the second was as overwhelming as the first. Tom's cock stopped in my ass, buried to the hilt, and I felt him lower his chest onto my back. I could feel the sweat on him as his skin touched mine. He rested there, panting, as I held us both up. As his breathing returned to normal, I felt his lips return to my shoulder. Wordlessly, he stood, and I felt his rod slide out from me. I stood stifly, and felt warm wetness on the inside of my thighs as our cum -- what he'd shot inside me and what he'd used to lube himself -- dripped out of my tired hole.
He bent over and wiped the cum off his cock with my still damp boxer shorts. He tossed the shorts to me, and I reached behind myself to wipe up the cum from my ass. He brushed his bangs, now sopped with sweat, from his forehead and began to get dressed.
"You can unpack this OK by yourself?" he asked, gesturing to the boxes still stacked around the room.
"Uh, yeah, sure," I answered.
"OK. Stop by my room around 6 and we'll see what's up for dinner," he commented, as though nothing had happened. He moved to the door. As he opened it, with his hand on the knob, he turned. "Jeff?" I looked up. "You said that you wouldn't do anyone else if I told you not to, so one else touches you without my permission. You're mine."
Without waiting for a response, he left the room, and the door shut quietly behind him.