It was late October and Greg had admired Lars for two full months. Lars, like Greg, was a 19-year-old sophomore at the university. The handsome Norwegian student would quietly pass through the hallways of the second floor of the all-boys dorm where he lived, a few doors down from Greg. Lars was quiet not because he was unfriendly but because he was new to the country, having earned an athletic scholarship to the U.S. university. He was a star college water polo player in Norway, and he now was continuing his tremendous skills in the water in America.
Lars lived in his two-man dorm room with his friend, teammate and fellow Norwegian, Dag, who just as quietly kept to himself. But it wasn't difficult for them to make friends on campus, as their incredible bodies and stunning good looks attracted straight women and gay men alike. Both were 6-feet tall with light blonde hair and blue eyes. Lars was about 180 pounds of firm flesh and powerful muscle. His body was defined and smooth. His large biceps, built chest, meaty thighs, and full, taut buttocks made admirers quiver. Dag was about 160 pounds, slimmer and less muscular than his pal Lars, but nonetheless gorgeous and enticing. The two were a tag-team set of godlike Norwegian hunk-boys that no young straight woman or gay man at the college could resist. Including Greg, a pretty, 170-pound, dark-blonde-haired, blue- eyed, slim young man who believed in his heart that he literally would do almost anything to kneel before Lars and obey the awe inspiring Norwegian babe.
The water polo team's home games were filled to capacity with students yearning for a glimpse of Lars, Dag and their various teammates wearing the uniform, scanty, skin-tight, solid-bright- blue Speedo swimsuits. The suits placed in the spotlight the Norwegians' giant, bulging baskets, and showed off their mouthwateringly curvaceous, firm, meaty asses. Fortunately for their fans, the suits covered nothing else, leaving their wet, lightly tanned, muscular, perfect physiques on display for all to see.
But Greg had one up on all the other gay boys, and straight women, on campus. Every day he got to see Lars and Dag go to the shower wearing nylon bikini briefs even tinier and tighter than their Speedos. With towel in hand, one or both of the Norwegian hunks would make the trek down the long dorm hallway to the showers. Quite often, they would walk right by Greg, who would be sitting on the floor in the hallway reading a book, which was not an entirely uncommon sight since many dorm residents did actually read in the hallways. But Greg's timing got to be such that the boys, particularly Lars, began saying hi to Greg, as well as notice the worshipful, glazed-over look in Greg's eyes. It didn't take long at all for Lars to realize that Greg was gay, and madly in lust with the Norwegian athlete. Lars, as well as Dag, appreciated the lust and desire of fellow students such as Greg. Still, they usually kept their egos in check, and were generally very nice guys. Both had slept with guys and girls on campus since their arrival, a fact that was simultaneously well known and hush-hush. So many of their classmates pined for the chance to sleep with either of the beautiful, muscular jocks. What Greg didn't know was that he was about to have an encounter with these gods among men, an encounter he wouldn't soon forget.
The encounter took place at a Halloween party held at the just-off- campus apartment of two students in their junior year, popular young women around the university. The apartment was vast, with three bedrooms, a large living room, a sunroom, a back porch, a massive kitchen: It was the perfect college party space. And the stereo was blasting some of the hottest new songs: A-Ha's Take On Me, Mick Jagger and David Bowie's Dancing In The Street, Tears For Fears' Head Over Heels and Madonna's Dress You Up. The crowded but not quite teeming party was alive with the chatter and singing and yells of the young college students, ranging in age from 18 to 22. And the kegs of beer and bottles of liquor were flowing freely.
Greg had snagged an invitation by being close friends with a fellow sophomore who was in very tight with the party's two female hosts. Lars and Dag received invitations simply by being Lars and Dag, two of the sexiest available men on campus. It also didn't hurt that the two hosts both had slept with Dag in recent weeks. The dozens of others invited were a part of the two girls' far-reaching, semi-exclusive social circle. And come midnight, Lars, Dag and virtually every other partygoer was blind drunk, as any good college student would be on a Thursday night that also happened to be Halloween.
The highlight of the party for most of the girls and many of the boys was seeing the Norwegian water polo champions in costume. Lars and Dag both were dressed as vampires, Count Dracula to be more precise. The dead giveaway was the wild fangs peeking out from under their lips, the slicked back hair, and the long, flowing, black satin capes with high, stiff collars. But these vampires looked more ready for the beach than the coffin: Underneath their capes were nothing but black, shiny, form-fitting Speedos, and black, patent-leather jackboots. There were young gay men at the party who literally were drooling.
Greg, dressed simply in all black, was doing his best to keep his eyes off the Norwegian babes, focusing instead on some other gay boys who he found attractive and potential company for the coming Fall weekend. By the witching hour, Greg was as smashed as almost everyone else and looking for company, either friend or something more. But he needed a rest and sat down on the plush sofa in the darkened living room, listening to George Michael sing about his freedom. After setting his cup of beer on the coffee table and resting for no more than a minute or two, he was hit from behind and smushed into the couch. Lars had accidentally fell over backwards while leaning on the sofa, and consequently landed on top of Greg. When Greg realized who it was that plopped on top of him, he was hardly upset, he was just hard. Very hard.
Lars took one look at Greg and immediately realized he had fallen on the gay boy down the hall who lusted after his powerful body. "Hey, man!" Lars said pleasantly in his extremely thick accent.
"Hey, Lars, how ya' doin'?" Greg replied with a smile.
"Very cool," Lars laughed back. "You want to smoke?"
ANYthing to get a little closer with Lars would be a dream come true! And a couple hits of weed would be just the thing about now, anyway, Greg thought to himself. The answer to Lars' question was simple: "Yes!"
Lars fumbled off the couch and led Greg to the back bedroom of the apartment. There were a few coats on the bed, some shoes strewn about the floor, a dim light, and some curtains drawn shut in front of a window that was open just a crack. Greg pushed some coats aside and sat on the edge of the bed. Before he closed the door, Lars spied Dag down the hall near the kitchen and motioned for him. Dag sauntered down the hall and through the back bedroom door, which he promptly shut.
"I asked him if he wanted to smoke and my little fag boy here said yes, eh," Lars smiled wickedly to Dag.
"Cool. I could use a good smoke," Dag said quietly.
And with that, the Norwegian godmen locked the door, then peeled down the black, shiny Speedos just enough to let their incomparably gigantic cocks pop out. Greg was stunned, like the deer in the headlights. He simply couldn't believe what he was seeing. And Lars' use of the word "fag" was still settling into Greg's mind: Was it a more or less harmless choice of words, or was he in real trouble? Looking at Lars' and Dag's increasingly erect cocks, and knowing the boys' campus reputation as bisexual bounders, Greg concluded that he probably was in good hands.
"Smoke this, baby," Lars said to Greg as he held up his satin cape like Count Dracula and jammed his giant, erect dick in Greg's face.
Without thinking, Greg deftly wrapped his hands around Lars' flawless ass, still mostly covered by the incredibly tight black Speedo, and eagerly went down as far as he could on Lars' long, thick cockmeat. Lars in kind began face-fucking Greg, bringing his hands down on the homosexual's head and grabbing fistfuls of dark blonde hair. Greg tightened his lips' grip around Lars' cock, now the center of Greg's life and his reason for being, and Lars began pumping harder and harder. Greg looked up to see a chest so perfect and smooth and muscled, and beyond that Lars' beautiful face looking down at Greg and wearing an intense, wicked smile. Lars was on top, being worshipped, and being serviced. He was happy.
The whole time, Dag stood a few feet from the two, gently stroking his lengthy dick with one hand while feeling his spandex-encased ass with the other. As Lars' pounding became more furious, Lars began moaning some, and then let out a restrained yell: His cock began emptying hot semen into Greg's throat, feeding Greg. He pumped load after load of burning, tasty come into Greg's throat, pulling back to empty a few blasts into the submissive gay boy's mouth. With Lars' cock forcibly jammed down his throat and Lars' hands fiercely gripping his hair and holding his head down on the giant member, Greg had no choice but to obey his Norwegian god and swallow the semen that Lars so generously gave him. When he was satisfied, Lars let go of Greg's hair and withdrew his cock from Greg's mouth. Lars, towering above Greg who still sat on the edge of the bed, instructed his new catch to carefully lick the semi- erect cock clean, which Greg did without question as he gazed at the meat and the muscles that made Lars the star he truly was.
Lars then peeled his Speedo back up, encasing his massive piece of meat in the tight, black spandex. Patting Greg on the head, Lars said, "You're a good boy, baby." As he walked toward the door Lars said to Dag, conspiratorially, "Your turn. I'm going to get Jim. Be right back." And with that, Lars unlocked the door, left, and shut the door tight.
As soon as the door shut, Dag approached Greg and said very simply, "Kneel." Greg promptly pushed himself off the side of the bed and knelt on the hardwood floor before Dag's gorgeous body and colossal cock. Dag grabbed the base of his erect piece in one hand and began beating Greg's face with it, clubbing the submissive homosexual sophomore who was quickly learning just how submissive he truly was and really yearned to be. Dag began asking, "Do you want this? Do you want my cock? You want to suck on me, don't you, pussyboy? You want to suck my cock?"
Still being beaten with the mighty club, Greg replied, "Yes, Dag, please. Please let me suck your cock. Please."
Hearing what he wanted to hear, Dag grabbed Greg, one hand on each side of his head, squeezing. "Suck it," he ordered. And Greg obeyed. But as soon as he began licking and sucking and slurping the big dick, the door opened and in snuck Lars with Lars' and Dag's friend Jim. While not as muscular and incredible as his two Norwegian buddies, Jim was certainly attractive, and definitely butch. Yet another top, Greg thought while Dag continued sliding his thick piece in and out of Greg's talented mouth.
"He's good, he loves it, and he swallows," Lars said to Jim, who was dressed as a rather nice-looking pirate, and locked the door. "You're next!" The two pounded back their beers and laughed. Jim began undoing his costume pants to let loose his meat.
On his knees, Greg could sense Dag was near orgasm. He looked up at the pretty Norwegian's face, which was squinting with power and lust. And suddenly, Dag thrust his glorious cock deep into Greg's throat, warm, luscious semen exploding from the cock and filling Greg's stomach with the come of yet another man. Dag grabbed Greg's head even harder and pumped and pumped the submissive's face for all he was worth. With the final sigh of Dag's fulfilling orgasm, the beautiful Norwegian athlete withdrew his cock from the conquered Greg's mouth and wiped his cock in Greg's hair, cleaning and drying it. "Do him, Captain Kidd," Dag said to Jim, who had dropped his pants but left the rest of his pirate outfit on.
Lars and Dag collapsed on the bed to drink and watch as Jim stood before the still kneeling and overwhelmed Greg. "Third time's a charm, cutie. Come on!" Taking the cue, Greg began licking Jim's ample, stiff dick, licking and kissing it, until Jim gently grabbed Greg's hair, signaling it was time for sucking. And that is just what Greg did. He went down on Jim's dick with renewed energy, bobbing up and down on the meat ferociously, honing the fleshpipe like few could. He went at Jim's cock like a ravenous animal, sucking the life out of the pirate-garbed senior. With Lars and Dag cheering and laughing and the music and sounds of the party only slightly muffled through the locked door, Jim blew his load, discharging what must have been a pint of hot seed into Greg's compliant mouth. Jim watched, delighted, as Greg dutifully ate all of Jim's hot semen, swallowing all of the precious come.
Jim pulled out and Lars and Dag began clapping. Jim bowed then pulled up and fastened his pants. Greg actually managed a little smile. The three grabbed their empty beer cups and headed for the door. Dag and Jim unlocked the door and headed out and down the hall for the beer keg with not a thought for the cocksucker they just left behind. Lars lingered behind only for a moment. He pulled Greg up off his knees and onto the bed, looked him in the eyes, then gave Greg a firm and genuine kiss right on the cheek. "See you around, baby," Lars said, then dove back into the party.
[This story is based on fact. I welcome messages from adult gay men who like to discuss issues revolving around submissive and dominant sexual roles. My e-mail address is: obedient_bottom@yahoo.com]