Warning: This tale contains the following elements which may cause an adverse reaction in the overly straight-laced: male on male sexual relations, male/female copulation before marriage/with no intent of marriage, anal sex, multiple sexual partners, masturbation, and humor. Reading this story may cause the following symptoms: hardened nipples, dampened panties, erected penises, male and female ejaculation accompanied by screaming and/or multiple orgasms, and an extreme urge to fornicate. This story is recommended for adults over the age of majority in your jurisdiction (18 for most). Use of this product by persons under the recommended age may result in the following negative side effects: grounding, supervised computer time, complete loss of computer priveliges, embarrassing ejection from public places, uncomfortable discussions with parental figures about sexual habits, and in extreme cases, complete loss of privacy and beating. Use only as directed. Please consult birth certificate and genitalia before using.
Alex groaned in satisfaction when he felt the blunt tip of Brandon's ebony cock breach his anal ring. The hot greased rod steadily disappeared until the root of Brandon's meat had been swallowed up by Alex's pink pucker.
“Shit Brandon. I keep forgetting just how damn big you are.” He pushed his shaggy black hair back from his face.
“I keep forgetting how tight your ass is.”
“As much as you fuck me, it should be a black hole by now.”
“And yet, you still drop your pants for me.” A pleasure filled moan escaped the duo as the Asian squeezed the dick in his ass.
“I'm not at fault. You've got an advantage over everyone.”
“Right now, I think you've got the advantage,” the college sophomore grunted through clenched teeth.
“Really?” Alex started grinding his bubble butt in circles. “From here, it feels like your dick is in my ass, fucking me.”
“Or, you're fucking my dick with your ass.”
“Shut up and fuck.”
The Asian bottom raised himself to the tip and dropped, burying Brandon's eight-inch root in his hot tunnel. He did it again. And again. Soon the dorm was filled with the echo of flesh slapping flesh. Alex added his own pig-like squealing to the cacophony when his roommate grasped his slim hips and started fucking upward into his willing ass. When he could get a thought going, Alex thanked whatever deity there was that it was early in the morning and their neighbors on both sides were heavy sleepers; if either one hadn't been true, then the entire floor would have been privy to just what was happening in room 305.
This was their daily routine, and had been ever since the two had met over a year ago on move in day. Their alarm would sound at six thirty, and they would dash across the hall – Brandon often nude from the waist down – to relieve the pressure of their bladders. Then, the minute their door closed, the two males would climb into the same bed, and one or the other would sink his turgid erection into the others willing anus, not stopping until their morning wood had been sated. At seven, they would hit the gym together and separate at eight for classes. Between school, work, activities, and their respective social lives, they often wouldn't meet again until nine or ten at night. Two hours of studying later, they would turn the lights off and Brandon would penetrate his friend one more time, falling asleep only after painting Alex's rectum with an abundant amount of sperm.
Alex was in his own world with his sphincter stretched and his thin seven inch dick keeping a steady drumbeat on Brandon's abs. His prostate was consistently being pummeled by the black boy's knob. Right now, Alex wasn't having any trouble understanding how so many people got addicted to Brandon and his skills between the sheets. He might have that hypnotic stare, but it was easy to tell that he didn't rely on it completely. The man truly knew how to fuck. Be it topping or bottoming, man or woman, young or old, he could sense his partner's hotspots easily, and he knew when and how to target them. He knew when to be easy, and he knew when to fuck someone into the floor. His confident and even dominant nature carried over to his life, and that aura alone was enough to attract nearly anyone he desired. The way he was instinctively in tune with his partner's sexual needs was so precise that the only way Alex could describe Brandon was as a living sex god.
Before Alex even needed to ask, Brandon had flipped them over without pulling out and really started to pound his bare cock into the the willing ass below him, hooking Alex's feet over his broad shoulders. The California surfer boy was moaning like mad with his sphincter stretched almost painfully wide.
“What do you think Mel would think?” Brandon growled as he curled his fingers around Alex's drooling prick. “You on your back, legs in the air, taking as dick the same way you like to give it to her? Moaning the way she'd moan when she's about to cum?”
“Oh god...” Alex answered.
“How's it feel with my dick fucking your ass?”
“It feels so good...” Brandon sped up his stroked on Alex's cock.
“How's it feel know that any minute now, I'm gonna fill that ass with so much jizz, it's gonna be running out all day long?”
“That's right. You know I'm not wearing a condom. You know I like to mark my territory. I like to feel my dick soaking in my jizz while its in your ass. Whose ass is this?”
“Who gets to fuck this ass?”
“Anybody else gonna fuck this ass?”
“Anybody else gonna spray in this ass?”
“Who's gonna cum in this ass?”
“You want my cum in your ass?”
“Tell me! Tell me to fucking cum in your ass!”
“Cum in my ass, shoot your fucking load deep in my asshole...” Alex was unraveling fast, and Brandon was not far behind.
“I'm gonna cum in your ass, empty my balls in your ass, blow my seed in your ass, in my fucking sperm hole, you filthy cum dump!”
It was too much. Alex's shaved boner shuddered hard in Brandon's fist and started spraying his thin ejaculate everywhere. The contractions of Alex's rectum was enough to jump start Brandon's own orgasm. True to his word, Brandon pushed himself balls deep and let loose his large thick load into his roommate's bowels with a deep groan. The rippling of Alex's rectum acted like a vacuum, sucking Brandon's spunk out of his fat tube and deep into his intestines until nothing else would flow.
Brandon let his cock soak in its warm syrupy bath. They were panting from their exertions, and both could hear and feel Alex's guts churning as Brandon's sperm flowed deeper into Alex. Brandon finally pulled out when his meat began to soften, allowing Alex to drop his legs and hide his battered asshole from view.
“C'mon dude,” Brandon said cheerfully. “Time to move.”
“Sorry, but I just got the shit fucked out of me, so forgive me while I take a minute and catch my breath.”
“Seriously? You've had your eight hours. Get up.” Brandon pulled on a pair of boxers.
“Brandon, not everyone uses sex as their coffee. Some people use actual coffee to wake up.”
“You're joking, right? Sex gets the blood pumping. Coffee just stunts your growth. Fucking is a workout that you can't possibly dread!”
“I don't dread the sex,” Alex drawled, “I just dread you after the sex.”
“Fine.” Brandon flipped the switch on the coffeemaker. “If you're not up by the time I get out of the shower, I'm gonna fuck you again.”
Alex moaned in defeat as his roommate left. The man was a taskmaster and had a hard on for time. Alex's mind flashed back to the first – and last – time he hadn't believed Brandon's threat. That had been one exhausting and exhilarating Saturday morning he'd spent with Brandon's ebony schlong buried inside of him, filling him up with load after load of spunk and milking him for all he was worth. Alex pushed himself upright.
For the second time that morning, sweat was pouring down the faces of Brandon and Alex. This time, however, they were in the gym, making their way around the indoor track. The 5'10 black boy was running in just blue shorts and tennis shoes, leaving his defined chest to glisten in the lighting.
“Dude, what was up with the dirty talk this morning?”
“Huh? Oh, that. I was brushing up for Becky.”
“Right, I forgot. Becky's the one who works on the top floor of the library.” Alex continued to give him a blank stare. “The one I told you acts prim and proper but keeps a pink dildo suctioned to her chair behind the desk?”
“Oh yeah. Shit, you're still seeing her?”
“Hell yeah. She's almost as freaky as I am.”
“Right. Top floor.”
“I still don't understand how you keep all those names and faces straight in your head.”
“Simple. I have superior brain power. Go ahead and be jealous.”
“I would say, 'you're an ass,' but you already knew that....”
“Yep. But I got too much ass coming in to really give a shit. Anyway, I'm gonna hit the showers. I'll catch you later.”
“No you won't. I'm spending the night with Mel, remember?”
“Shit man, I forgot. Don't forget to drink your coffee, big man! Wouldn't want you falling asleep on her.”
Alex ignored the jibe and kept going as his friend disappeared into the lockers. His mind wandered freely. Most guys would have had trouble reconciling themselves with Alex's situation, with the pressure of dating a beautiful and deserving person like Melissa, yet still having sex with their male roommate. It would be a tough pill to swallow since it would bring up painful questions about one's sexual orientation. Alex, however, had not questioned himself once.
It was simple in his head. He was – in his heart, mind, and body – completely straight, no questions asked. Sexually and romantically, all his emotions were tied to the female gender. His relationship with Brandon was completely platonic, excluding the fact that they fucked every day. It wasn't a mark against his straightness; he had never desired to know what sex with another male would be like. This was him helping out a friend. Brandon had an abnormally high sex drive, part of a package deal with his particular set of skills. Without constant sex, Brandon would have been too busy jerking off to be able to function as a normal human being, made only worse by the fact that Brandon was in possession of a sharp mind. And if nothing else, Alex was unwilling to see a good mind go to waste.
Of course, the fact that he was guaranteed to get his rocks off – regardless of whether Mel was in the mood or not – was only icing on the cake. And Brandon wasn't egotistical when it came to sex; just as often, it was Alex's stiff seven incher disappearing into Brandon's tight starfish. That was a hole that Melissa had definitely not allowed Alex anywhere near.
A cooling trickle began to make its way down Alex's inner thigh, having escaped his reddened anus four laps ago. 'Right on time,' he thought as he made his way to the showers.
Brandon Edwards shifted in frustration as he placed the canned green beans back on the shelf. This wasn't appropriate at all. Here he was, at work, sporting a semi. Today was a rare day that Brandon cursed his high libido, wondering how he could be so unfortunate. Thankfully, at the moment, he was squatting down but as soon as he finished, he might embarrass himself. With two other people in the aisle, he couldn't adjust himself, meaning his only option was to pretend to be insane and squat-walk all the way back to the register.
It wasn't his fault that he was about to pop wood in public. Things had been going along perfectly fine. Sure, both of his morning classes had decided to drop a quiz on him unexpectedly, but that was life and it was no big deal. The material was engraved on his skull. He'd been looking forward to his 'lunch date' with Becky. Unfortunately, his phone had rang right as the library building came into sight. And of course, it was his boss, demanding that he show up to work three hours early, meaning that fun time with the naughty librarian had been canceled in favor of his wallet.
It wasn't like he needed the money for school. Thanks to a high GPA, a few scholarships and a couple of grants had taken care of everything. But Brandon deserved some of the finer things in life, like cash in his pocket, gas in the tank, movies and such. And women; there was no way he'd have a reputation as a cheap date.
Things were bleak in Brandon's world as he finally stood up, thankful to the gods that the aisle was finally empty which gave him a chance to point his dick upward in his pants. Becky was unavailable for the rest of the day, and with his roommate at his girlfriend's tonight, his two for-sure nut busters were gone. He could take care of the problem himself, but he hadn't needed to since discovering how to get others to do it for him. His brain started to trail off as always as he made his way back to the registers. No doctor had been needed to tell him that he was above average; he'd gotten the hint about his high libido in middle school when he got the uncontrollable urge to stroke his considerable six inch prick in the school bathrooms between classes. Every class. The sudden influx of hormones brought on by puberty combined with the arousing sight of nearly every female in his class had spun him nearly out of control. His teachers had been alarmed when one of their top students had suddenly stopped paying attention in their classes, preferring to stare blankly out the window instead. Brandon's grades had dropped like a stone in the water. Conferences were held with his parents, teachers, and counselors to no result. Brandon finally was referred to a therapist, who got the clue from the young man's constant shifting in his office.
At first, they tried to tell the youngster not to do that in public. His response had been furious and embarrassed:
“I don't! You think I like to do it? I just ask to go to the bathroom!”
After several unsuccessful attempts to talk the young man out of it, special arrangements had been put in place for him. His parents were informed of everything; his teachers instructed to allow the young man to leave class for ten minutes, being told nothing more than it was a 'medical condition.' Like magic, Brandon's grades improved. And so, Brandon was allowed a special pass for each class, as long as he kept his grades up. He kept his grades high so he could keep the pass.
He wasn't stupid, and he knew the other kids weren't either. It took a while, but they finally figured out why Brandon needed the pass. The rest of middle school passed with students refusing to shake his hand, touch him, or even sit near him. Jerome Sanders led the brigade committed to making Brandon's life hell.
High school was the chance he needed to get away from the ridicule. It was perfect in every way. Across town from his old middle school, very few of his old classmates would be joining him, giving him the chance to start over. Three years of beating off as fast as possible meant that Brandon could hit the bathrooms, blow a load in the toilet, and still get to class within the seven minutes allowed. And he could be quiet about it too, a necessity in a bathroom of other boys who knew what masturbation sounded like. Things were absolutely fine, until he realized that Jerome had joined him at Ledbetter High. The first day had nearly broken him, when Jerome started to spread his rumors around. Things would change again two weeks later.
Gym being the last class of the day, Brandon preferred to hang behind and spend extra time working on his free throws. It wasn't that he particularly cared about basketball, but he needed the showers to clear out so he could empty his balls again before his clubs started. Just because Jerome was slowly smearing his name didn't mean that he had to leave any basis for truth.
Like always, the lockers were empty by three thirty. He knew he had at least half an hour before the sports teams started showing up. As the heavy door closed behind him, Brandon stripped as he walked. The thrill of being naked brought his erection to full mast, and it swayed back and forth like a divining rod, leading him to the comfort and safety of the open showers. He wasn't long in scrubbing off the grime before he closed his fist around his throbbing member and went to work. The strokes were quick and furious. He needed it today, and badly.
“Whoa dude. Take it easy, or you'll break it.”
Brandon spun and was filled with horror at the sight of an older teen standing in the doorway, just as naked as he was. He was white, probably a junior or senior, standing about 5'8 with a swimmer's build and an average cock that was standing erect and pointing proudly to the sky.
“Sorry man. Didn't mean to scare you. We all do it in here at one point or another. Look, I'm Pete Mills.”
In a few quick strides, Pete had crossed the room and extended his hand. Without thinking, Brandon removed his main hand from his penis and offered it to the other boy. Instead of shaking it though, Pete dropped his hand and curled his fingers around Brandon's cock.
“My, you were close,” Pete cooed as he slowly stroked the foreign dick. “What had you so wound up today?”
“Cheerleaders,” Brandon blurted out. He was still in shock at being interrupted during a private moment, and now having his most prized possession stroked lovingly by someone else.
“Ah. Those short skirts do advertize a lot, don't they?” Brandon groaned in response, feeling the fist grow tighter. “Feels better when someone else is taking care of you, doesn't it?”
“Uh huh.” That was all the freshman could manage through the fog in his head.
“I bet. They were in every class, weren't they?” Brandon nodded, now so lost that he couldn't even make basic sounds. “That's a lot of stress. I don't think its all going to come out by hand.”
Brandon watched the older boy lower himself to his knees. Pete stared at the cock, watching the clear fluid seep out. He swiped at it with his tongue, processing the flavor. Then, without a word, Pete wrapped his pink lips around the head, holding the ebony monster steady by the base. Pete looked up at the freshman who was watching him, winked, and slowly slid his warm wet mouth down the shaft until his lips were kissing his fist. But he didn't stop there. He took a deep breath and one by one, Pete lifted his fingers and gobbled down the exposed shaft until Brandon's balls were resting on his chin, all eight inches of the youth firmly encased in his greedy mouth and throat. Pete could see the shock on Brandon's face at how easily he had swallowed those thick inches, mixed with the unmistakable pleasure of being completely engulfed.
But Pete had not finished with his signature move yet. With that large penis lodged in his throat, Pete forced himself to swallow around the invader. Then he swallowed again as he reached up and started fondling the tight ball sack, his other hand fisting his own cock. He kept doing this until on the tenth swallow, Brandon's beef rocket fired, sending jets of piping hot cum directly to Pete's stomach. His eyes widened as he felt the volume of sperm being pumped into him from the bucking tube. His own cock was expelling it's slimy contents all over the freshman's feet.
After nine powerful blasts, Pete pulled Brandon out of his throat and milked the final dribbles out onto his tongue. He made a production of showing off his covered tongue, and then swallowing the salty jizz, moving his tongue around to prove that it had actually been eaten.
“Two things,” Pete said. “First, common courtesy states that you're supposed to tell your partner when you're gonna blow.”
“Sorry,” Brandon muttered.
“Luckily, I like to swallow, so all is forgiven. But some people might start choking. Which leads me to the second thing; when was the last time you jerked off?”
“Lunch today?” Pete stared in shock.
“Dude, that's not normal. What's on your feet is normal. Shit, that's more than most guys put out in two or three days!”
For the rest of the year, Brandon and the senior would meet in the showers twice a day – before and after school – to share in a male on male sexual rendezvous. Brandon would learn several things from the self-professed 'Peter Eater'. Among them: the art of deepthroating; the sensuality of feeling a male phallus stretch his sphincter; and the eroticism of feeling male sweat dripping on his back as he grunted, shuddered, and deposited a warm sticky load into his bowels.
Their daily meetings would lead Brandon to two startling revelations about himself. First, he would learn that orgasms with a partner didn't just feel better, but they actually eliminated the need to jerk off between classes. Controlling himself now was a breeze.. Secondly, Brandon would come to understand that he enjoyed same-sex sexual encounters. The male phallus was a wonderful and sexy creation, as were its warm fluids. Nothing could have stopped him from lapping at the head of Pete's cock as the spunk oozed and pulsed out, hot and buttery to his taste buds. Nothing was more erotic than watching the piss slit flare open and spit its contents all across his face. The stark contrast between his milk chocolate skin and the chalk white lines always got him raging hard again.
Nevertheless, even though he could control himself for an entire day, Brandon could feel his member start to firm up at three fifteen, and by the time the clock struck half past, the final shot came with a second bounce from below his belt. Thankfully, Pete was always waiting, eager for another round of Pork Sword Swallowing.
Brandon pulled himself off autopilot when a customer approached his line. As he scanned her items, he hid his appraisal behind a polite smile. She wasn't exactly a model, but she definitely could turn heads. Light skin, a cute face, full lips curled into a smile, and full hips – a sure indication that the rear-view would be fantastic. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time to seduce her; otherwise, Brandon would have loved to feel those lips sliding back and forth on his soldier. 'Shame too,' he thought, watching her ass shimmy and shake in her tights as she left. He knew that soft ass would have felt great in his hands as he pounded her from behind. He saw the little tease pause at the door and look back, catching his eyes glued to her bottom. She winked and disappeared, adding even more of a twist to her walk.
That was the final straw. The semi he had been fighting against now raged at full mast. Brandon needed relief, and he needed it now. It didn't matter if it was a guy or a girl, he needed to plunge into something hot wet and tight and he needed to do it soon. At this point, he was even willing to settle for the diminished comfort of his palm. He was finding it hard not to press his dick against the solid counter in a crude and desperate simulation of intercourse.
Luckily, Brandon's manager chose that moment to show up and relieve him for lunch, before he could start testing the boundaries of proper behavior. Perfect timing. He would have thirty whole minutes to scare up a victim. Give ten minutes for a combination of hunting, seduction, foreplay, and convincing his partner to give public sex a shot, and he still had twenty minutes to pound out a fantastic ball buster. Or, should he strike out (and it seemed like today would be the day), that was still twenty minutes he could use to crack out two or three mediocre nuts. Food could wait – his dick needed feeding.
Brandon hurried to the office. It was such a shame that he couldn't catch up to that wide-hipped cock tease, because he surely would have liked to punish her for driving him to this point. He grabbed his card, punched out, and dropped it in the box while turning. Unfortunately, on this day of misfortune, Brandon collided with someone who had bent over in front of him. And as he slammed into that poor soul, he realized what was going to happen, just a moment before his erect tool was pressed firmly into the soft backside.
This chapter ran too long for my liking. Chapter 1b not far behind. Remember, comments and criticisms are welcome; assholes can just get fucked.