Kurt the Hockey Bro

By Striker

Published on Jan 8, 2013

Gay

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I welcome questions or comments: email Striker88888@gmail.com

**

As I approached what would become my freshman year dormitory that very first day of college, I had no idea the wide world of dick that was about to enter my life. Back then I had an easy time flying under the radar-- I was as typical and unobtrusive as they come. A 6 foot, pretty good looking Irish guy from the suburbs-- did fairly well in my classes and excelled at baseball, for which I won a small scholarship to a liberal arts school in New England. Had plenty of friends and enjoyed high school for the most, though I guess I always knew something was missing from my life.

I was gonna get plenty of it soon. When my parents and I hauled my packed bags and baseball equipment up to the top floor of the dorm, I entered my room for the first time. I'll never forget seeing him there that first time.

"Whaddup" is all he said when the door swung open.

All I knew about him was from a letter the college sent me over the summer, telling me that my roomate was going to be a guy named Kurt Flynt from Maryland. What that letter failed to mention was how unbelievably sexy Kurt was. He was wearing a blue baseball cap, white t shirt and jeans, and wore it well...his thick arm muscles pulling the fabric of the shirt jut slightly. His hair was the deepest black and an irritatingly cocky "fuck you if you don't like it" grin was pretty much plastered to his face. He was nineteen years old, about 6'4", had senator good looks and a thick must of confidence that almost overwhelmed the room.

Even back then, not knowing the first thing about my feelings for dudes, I was in awe, stumbling a little as I shook his hand, "Uhh,h-hey" I managed, "I'm Tom"

Kurt was already fully unpacked. He had taken what was by far the "superior" bed in the room, a big lofted queen in the corner. I was left with a shitty looking twin bed near the door, probably left over form before the dorm was renovated. It irked me but I let it slide off my back, determined to start college on the right foot.

After the typically-awkward goodbye conversation with my folks, I started to tackle unpacking my bags. Kurt seemed pretty uninterested in small talk or anything, though when he saw my baseball gear he asked me a few questions about that. Apparently he was an all-state hockey player who was at the college on full scholarship. Unlike the school's shitty baseball team, the hockey squad was very solid--and we constantly placed well in our division. Kurt had already been at school for four days, the hockey team had "boot camp" to get the newbies into shape for the season. "I have been drunk every night since I got here" Kurt announced proudly, "but its been a fucking sausage fest. Can't wait for the girls to get here so I can finally get some poon." I nodded agreeably.

Unpacking was a pain in the ass, especially since Kurt took 4 of the 6 drawers that were available in the small dorm. I crammed my stuff in and told him I "may" need to store some stuff in the loft space on top of the closet.

"Whatever you want, dude" Kurt said nonchalantly. "Yo I'm gonna go workout." He carelessly slipped off his jeans and pulled on basketball shorts. I tried hard to keep my back turned but when i turned around I was hard not to look. even though his orange basketball shorts were pretty loose, it was impossible not to notice the giant mound of--well, something--that he had crammed in there. Of course this guy has a huge schlong, I thought, almost defeated.

The second—and I mean the second—Kurt left the room, I yanked my growing boner out of my pants and tugged it barely five or six times before shooting a sticky white load all over my left palm. It was gonna be a long semester as Kurt's roomate.

**

In some ways Kurt was just a pain in my ass. Though I liked to party and went to a few of them those first couple of weeks with the baseball team, Kurt took partying to another level. Apparently the hockey team had a pretty bad reputation for being aggressive drinkers, and Kurt lived up to it-- more than once coming home at 3 or 4 AM wasted, sometimes forgetting his keys and banging on the door incessantly till I let him in. Once I found him passed out in the hallway leaning against out door. When he'd come home drunk, sometimes with friends, they'd regularly do boneheaded things like break furniture or throw shit out the window at people passing by on the quad below our dorm.

Even when he was sober, Kurt was a nightmare to live with. When he got back to the room, he'd immediately shed whatever clothing he was wearing, leaving it strewn about the room haphazardly. This was especially true with his hockey gear, which reeked of sweat and god knows what, he'd ball it up and throw in the corner or just leave it air-drying on my dresser, not thinking about it. Turns out that Kurt--unlike me with my three brothers-- was as only child, and never had to share space with other people.

The dorm room really did smell disgusting after just a week or two. When a friend came up to borrow a book for our sociology class one afternoon, he asked me we were keeping livestock in our closets. I guess I hadn't realized how bad it had gotten.

Guess here's where I have to start admitting some sick shit. Though I know it reeked, I couldn't help somehow loving the smell of Kurt's stink. When he'd be playing playstation in his boxer shorts, I'd get a little thrill every time he let a huge fart rip (which he did a lot, without comment). I saw him go two, three days without showering yet somehow—when the weekends came along and the parties started up and Kurt had to impress the girls again, he'd clean himself up amazingly. A little shampoo and soap and Kurt was back to underwear model good looks, ready to slay the chicks.

And slay he did. From literally the second night I lived there, Kurt was bringing chicks back to our dorm. Slutty, blond, sorority girls seemed to be his favorite, and I swear I counted about ten of them that first month or so.

Kurt teased me once about never bringing girls back, and I told him it was because I went to their rooms being that our dorm was such a mess.

"Well clean it up then" he said without irony, lighting a joint. "You want a hit?"

I wasn't much a smoker but Kurt liked to light up every now and again, adding the the cloud of smells gathered in our dorm room. I took a coughing hit of the joint and passed it back, "uhh thanks."

"Uhh, you're welcome" he said mockingly, with that shit-eating grin. Then he fumbled in the couch for his playstation controller.

"Oh" he said after a few minutes, "by the way—Janice is coming back tonight for more dick. Can you somewhere else to sleep."

I had given him plenty of privacy over the last few weeks, but realized I had to take a stand if I didn't want to get walked all over. "Ehh, Kurt, can't just spend the whole night somewhere else. Can I just come in later at night after you did—your business or whatever?"

Kurt stopped his game and looked at me, gave a half-laugh kind of thing as if I had done something very unexpected. "Whatever you want, chief" he said, still smiling.

That night I partied in the dorm of a baseball teammate until really late, probably like 3:30 AM. I figured Kurt would have brought Janice home and pumped her and passed out by then, but when I gingerly keyed into the dorm I realized he was somewhere else and I was alone.

I used the privacy to whack off quickly, thinking about the mysterious mound of jock meat that dangled in Kurt's basketball shorts. That always got me off pretty damn quickly. As usual, once I came it was only a few minutes before passing out.

Wasn't sure the time but it was pitch black outside when my eyes shot open. A small reading light was switched on above Kurt's bed, and there was some commotion.

I lied very still and watched with one eye through the covers. I realized Kurt had returned with Janice—or maybe some other guy, couldn't tell in the darkness. She was moaning slightly as he rubbed her. I shifted quietly in the bed, my dick started to swell.

Kurt must have noticed me moving or something, because he looked in my direction. Then he whispered something to the chick I didn't quite here and she quickly flipped over. She was on all fours, facing my bed frame from Kurt's lofted bunk. I clenched my eyes closed to avoid being seen awake.

When I opened them, I saw Kurt boning her from behind doggy-style. A rhythmic FWAPP FWAPP of his nutsack against her ass got pretty loud, so loud that it may have woken me up on its own had I still been sleeping. The chick was oblivious and maybe had her own eyes closed, as she was just moaning louder and louder—calling out to Kurt to fuck her harder.

The light was dim but I got an excellent view of Kurt as he held her by the hips and slammed away. He was a greek god, silhouetted perfectly in an aura of flourescent light. His perfectly muscled physique remained taut as he went in and out—FWAPPing away mercilessly. Every so often he raised his right hand and gave her a SMACK on her ass. With each she cried out in pain, but then asked him for another.

Needless to say, my dick was rock hard under my sheets. Can't even describe how utterly diamond hard I was. Not a simple boner you get from watching porn or fooling around in the car with your girlfriend. Not even those big swollen hardons you get when you wake up with a galloon of piss to get rid of. This was like my dick was transformed into steel, and all at the sight of Kurt's shadow nailing some broad from behind.

Here's the fucked up part. Through the whole thing, as he kneeled over her grinding his schlong into her snatch, he looked straight at me. Looked me in the eyes. He didn't miss a beat. I realized I was caught watching but didn't move, didn't want to embarrass him or her or myself. He just keep looking at me, not even blinking, getting closer and closer to climax. And the whole time he had that goddamn smile on his face—`if you don't like it, then fuck you.'

He came with a roar, slapping her ass as he did. But he kept his eyes locked to me.

He was warning me, threatening me. But why?

I woke up the next day suddenly. Something as stretched over my mouth and nose. I shot up to find Kurt laughing.

"Smells good right?" He finally stepped away.

He was gagging me with a balled up pair of panties, ostensibly from last night's conquest.

"Claire was real fucking wet for me all night. She just left."

"What happened to Janice?" I asked, sitting up.

Kurt smiled as usual, "Who?" He jokingly through the panties in my face.

From then on, Kurt seemed less and less concerned with my presence in the room. Not that the bar was set very high at first, but it went downhill. He'd fill his hamper with sweaty gym cloths and, if that was full, just leave his shit around my bed or on the floor. He'd invite his douchebag hockey buddies up to the room, even if I was sitting there studying, without asking. They'd undoubtedly get involved with some drinking game or smoke pot, and seemed clueless or careless about my presence around them.

Kurt's friend Mike was over and they were playing Grand Theft Auto on the Playstation, drinking beers. I was trying to study some Spanish verb lists for an exam the next day. I as a bit pissed they were making such a racket, but as usual said nothing. I was a bit miffed though and think Kurt realized it, not that he really cared.

"Yo Tom" Kurt said, not looking away form the screen.

I ignored him.

"Yo Faggot, I'm talking to you" Kurt said loudly. Mike snickered from the couch.

"What do you want, Kurt?" I asked begrudgingly.

"Get me a beer."

I realized I was being made a fool of. In the past, in high school, even as a kid bullied by three older brothers, I would never have let anyone take advantage of me, wouldn't never be somebody's beer bitch. But when I looked up at Kurt, saw the frayed blue baseball cap he always wore and the triceps popping out of his crew t shirt glistening—Fuck, I don't know what came over me. I went and got the coldest beer in our mini-fridge.

I set it down in front of him. I saw Mike stifle a smile out of the corner of my eye.

I went back to my desk and sat down. A moment after cracking open my book, Kurt spoke again: "and one for Mike, Tom. Don't be rude."

I got his buddy Mike a beer, without speaking.

I guess I asked for it. From then on whenever Kurt had guests it was pretty much my job to take care of what they wanted. Id clean up their beer bottles, sweep up the ashes that fell from their cigarettes, bring them water or vodka or whatever. When they had sufficiently pre-gamed and were headed to some frat aprty or whatever, Kurt would smile at me on the way out: "Yo clean this place up, dude. It's a pig sty."

I just took it on the chin. I don't know why.

**

Well, I had a clue why. I couldn't stop thinking about one image I saw about a month and a half after moving in with Kurt.

Kurt usually wore white or gray boxer briefs and basketball shorts around the dorm, I know because he'd leave his sweat and shit-stained underwear pretty much wherever he wanted. But I guess he was out of underwear one afternoon and opted to free-ball. He was wearing his usual basketball shorts, this pair was black with a Baltimore Orioles logo on one side, without anything under them and sitting on the couch.

I was up on a step stool grabbing some dirty laundry I had in a hamper above our closets—Kurt had occupied so much of the room this was pretty much the only place my hamper could go. Kurt had ESPN turned up really loud so we both we sort of ignoring each other's presence. When I turned around to get off the ladder though, I couldn't help my eyes from glancing over to the couch.

There it was. The monster. The big fish. The meatiest, thickest, most beautiful dick I ever could image. It was 9 inches fully soft, and tumbled out one side of his b-ball shorts, unable to be contained without the underwear. Even though the shorts were pretty long themselves, its bulbous glowing red head and a good inch or two of veiny, silky shaft were clearly visible popping out. Absent-mindedly, Kurt had reached into his shorts up the other side and scratched his nuts. One of them peeked out of the shorts for a moment as well, a big hairy orb that perfectly matched the giant schlong on this guy. At least I knew for sure now where Kurt's seemingly-endless confidence came from.

I tried hard to look away but I couldn't. I didn't want that moment to end, and I wanted to whip my dick out and beat off right there and then. If only I could touch it. If only I could get my face close enough to smell the sweat coming off that monster. If only I could open wide and slide its smooth cut flesh into my mouth, fill my throat with its warmness...

I was lost in though when Kurt cleared his throat, shifted his legs so his dick popped back in. "You gonna do laundry, bro?"

My throat was dry from the sight I'd just seen. "Yep" I cracked. I was also trying to hide my huge boner behind the mountain of cloths in my arms.

"Do mine too." He said, barely lifting a thumb in the direction of his own, overflowing and rotten-smelling hamper.

What choice did I have?

**

That's how I became this hockey stud's housekeeper, servant and slave. And it wasn't long before I became his bitch as well.

I was obsessed. I would think about Kurt's sweaty underwear all day during class, and when I got back to the dorm, if the coast would clear, I'd almost always swipe a bear from the hamper or off the floor and hold it to my face. I loved the pairs that had the visible track-marks, as gross as it sounds, and loved to picture the fabric rubbing against his muscled asscrack and chode as he played hockey, or ran laps, or even just sat around the dorms.

Once in a while I'd find a pair that even had a yellow crust of dried jizz sprayed over the pouch. Those were always a treat to find. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I'd take those into bed with me and try to scratch the dried cum off with my nail, eating whatever rancid flakes I managed to dislodge.

I guess in high school I'd jerk off thinking about dudes, though never in that context. I'd jerk off to fantasies and pornos with a hot guy boning a chick—but always a chick. Though I'd be fascinated by their cocks and feel jealousy for the girls getting used, I never really put it together that I liked guys. And never thought of just them away from the women they were fucking.

With Kurt though, as I sniffed his stolen underwear, I thought of all the dirty things I wanted to do for him. And his friends too. I pictured all their dicks, and how each would feel sliding in and out of my throat. If I was really horned up, if I found a particularly crusty pair of shorts to sniff, I'd imagine myself on all fours just like that chick that one night, Kurt grabbing my hips and slamming away to get his dick off. I wanted to be a dumpster for his jizz, have him make nightly deposits of spunk down both my holes. I craved him, bad...even before I actually got a taste.

His underwear smelled bad but his pads were even worse, since he rarely washed them. I don't even know why he kept them in the dorm room, stinking up the place, when he had a locker at the gym. Anyway, I got back form class early one day and was feeling horny, and when I saw the hockey pads I had an idea.

I got naked and fondled my nuts. I wasn't' even close to the size of Kurt, but I had a decently meaty dick of my own, and it was bulking up in my hands. I locked the door of the dorm, snapped on the chain lock, and went to Kurt's side of the room. I slipped on as much of his hockey gear as I could, loving the scent that wafted up towards my nose and the feel of the rough fabric on my naked skin. I slipped on the knee pads and put on one of his jock straps. I found a jersey balled up under his desk and put that on too over the shoulder pads leaning against his closet.

Fucking heaven. I can't even tlel you how good it felt to whack off in all his gear, smelling his smells. I pictured his giant dick in those basketball shorts, and how I would get it hard. I pictured it when it was hard then, and how I would beg him to stab me with it deep in my ass. I needed it so bad.

Then I saw it: his hockey stick leaning against the wall.

I grabbed the stick and started by licking the blunt end of it like it was Kurt's massive dong. I let spit dangled out of my lips as if it were gobs of cum raining down from his giant hockey dick. I slowly took more and more of the stick's handle into my mouth, deep throating now. I also reached one hand behind me and lubed up my ass with lube I kept near my bed, sticking one finger in, then two, then three. If only I could get Kurt to fuck me form both sides at once, I could die and go to Heaven.

It wasn't long before I flipped around, gingerly inserting the hockey stick up my ass. It hurt like a bitch, and I wante to cry out, but the logner I kept it in and depper I went the better it started to feel. I had another pair of Kurt's briefs on my bed and buried my face in it while I pushed my ass back into the stick. Had a good 4 inches in now. I was loving it, just a bitch being used hard and long and rough by the biggest stud on the planet. Couldn't wait to feel cum dripping out of my ass and mouth at once and so I pumped pumped pumped—

I guess I was lost in thought. Or maybe I wanted to get caught. I don't know how it happened, but somehow I had fucked up the chain lock on our door, and Kurt had come in, standing in front of my bed watching. He wasn't smiling anyway, but he didn't say anything. I screamed like a girl when I saw him and immediately ripped the stick form my hole. This felt like being shot, it hurt so much, and I screamed more. I took off his gear in a flurry of apologies and think I even started crying a bit, so embarrassed. How could I be that stupid.

I left the room and essentially stayed out of the room for two days, staying with my teammate Joe—making the excuse that I had been "sexiled" by my roommate Kurt. I did go back to the room once with a brand new hockey stick I had bought to replace the one I had used. Kurt wasn't there, but I left it on his desk with a note: "I'm so sorry."

That Friday night I finally returned back to my dorm room. I was prepared to get my ass kicked if need be, but I wouldn't avoid my room forever—as running out of clean cloths. When I got there, Kurt was there, as was his friends Mike and Brandon. They were all taking shots. They were also wearing togas.

"Yo yo" Kurt said, not unfriendly, when I walked in. His chipperness took me off guard.

"Hi, Kurt" I managed to say.

Mike giggled and Brandon shushed him.

"Want a shot?" Kurt said.

Afraid to say no to him, I took a shot, and then went off to take a shower. I didn't know what to think about any of this. After washing for a good long time I reached out of the shower to find my towel and cloths were missing, taken obviously. I had to walk out of the communal bathrooms and down our co-ed floor butt ass naked. A few girls from down the hall were coming in at the same time, and cracked up when they saw me. I turned red, embarrassed.

I walked into my room to find the three of them stoned and laughing. Kurt through my towel at me, "Cover up that tiny pecker, dude" The other guys thought it was hilarious.

"Ha ha" I said, stone-faced.

"Relax bro, just a joke. Have another shot."

This time I passed on the drink, and started getting dressed. Thought I would head to the library and catch up on the work I hadn't done for the last three days, since the hockey stick incident.

"You're going to the library" Kurt said, unusually curious about what I was doing. He usually just opted to ignore me.

"Yeah."

"It's Friday night dude. Greek night too. You can't go to the library."

"Greek night" was the last night of Fraternity Rush period. During rush, Freshman went to parties at all the frat houses, where brothers tried to convince them just how superior their frat was over all the others, and how they'd be crazy not to join. On Greek Night, it was the last chance to party "all together" before members were chosen to pledge over the course of the remaining weeks of the semester. Everyone wore togas, an homage to ANIMAL HOUSE maybe, and got totally wasted. It was one of if not the biggest party night on campus. He was right, I'd be the only loser in the library that night.

"Guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right. Why don't you come to DTD with us."

DTD, delta tau delta, was one of most exclusive houses on campus. A bunch of hockey players lived there aready, so Kurt had a good "in." I had been there once for a party, where I played beer pong until a sorority girl threw up on me and all voer the floor. A brother had seen it happen and thought it was me who vomited, so he promptly kicked me out. I hadn't been back since.

"Nah dude, I don't think they like me there."

"You're coming." Kurt said, sort of ending the conversation in that way he did.

Guess I had to figure out a toga to wear.

**

The party was actually pretty fun. A bunch of kids from my classes were there so Iw as able to have a decent time even while trying to ignore Kurt and his buddies. Kurt would once in a while push passed me on the way to the keg, and in doing so give me a pretty hard push from behind. Other then that, he basically just ignored me as usual, with no sign that he had actually invited me there that night.

I did notice him getting very wasted though, as he kept going to the keg every couple of minutes. How he drank so much beer and stayed so fit, I'll never know.

It was about 2 AM and the party was thinning out, though only slightly. I was playing flip cup with some baseball guys when I got a tap on the shoulder. It was Mike. "Kurt wants to see you."

I had forgotten Kurt was even there, and reeled a bit. I guess I was sort of drunk too. "What do you mean?"

"He's upstairs in one of the bedrooms and told me to get your ass up there. So get your ass up there, bitch."

I was a little embarrassed to be called a bitch in front of my friends, but bit my lip. I figured Kurt wanted me to fetch him some beer or something, so I stopped by the keg on the way up. Mike led me upstairs through a few hallways.

All the parties at DTD and most the frats happened in their dank basements, so I never really had been upstairs in a frat before. DTD was actually really nice—hard wood everywhere, long hallways of bedroom after bedroom. Besides the stiff smell of pot smoke emanating throughout the house, seemed pretty much like a swanky cabin. Doors were mostly shut be every once in the while you heard dudes partying or sorority girls giggling behind them. I could only imagine what was going on.

We went all the way up to the attic, which had just two bedrooms, and entered one. I was surprised to find Kurt on the couch, alongside three other upperclassmen I vaguely recognized from the hockey team. They were doing cocaine and laughing loudly. When they saw me they got pretty silent, until Kurt started laughing again. Then they all did.

"Can't believe you're still here."

Suddenly I wasn't having a good time, or even curious about what was going on. I remembered my embarrassment at being caught with the hockey stick, and Kurt's face when he found me. I didn't know what this was all about but I wanted OUT.

Mike took a seat across from Kurt and did a line of coke. I raised the beer in my hand towards Kurt "Did you want a brew?" I sputtered out.

Kurt laughed again and took the beer from me without getting up. He took one big sip. Then he poured it out on the couch region of my toga, so it looked like I wet myself. I was too scared to move.

"Fucking faggot" Kurt said, with venom. I knew I was about to get a beat down.

"Still don't believe you bro" one of the older guys—his brothers called him Goon—said, looking at me and sizing me up. He was about 6'5" foot tall and looked like a pile of meat personified. Total jock.

"Neither do I" another said. He was leaner and red headed, but handsome. ?In the house they called him Piper.

Mike chimed in too. "Yeah. I mean clearly he's a flamer, but like—that's taking it a bit far. I mean—you're WHOLE hockey stick.?? Fucking sick dude."

I was speechless. Obviously Kurt had told them everything. I figured the whole embarrassment of the thing may have been enough for him to keep his mouth shut. Then I remembered, Kurt never got embarrassed. Should have seen it coming. I panicked, tears welling up. Didn't want to get my shit kicked.

"Relax, bitch" Kurt said, leaning forward. "You defiled my hockey stuff didn't you?"

I stood there, looking at the other guys in the room.

"DIDN"T YOU?" He basically screamed it. Everyone else was silent after that.

"Yeah" I admitted finally, weakly. I was so dead.

"You defiled my hockey gear, now the hockey team defiles you."

He leaned over and took one more big hit of cocaine. The other guys were murmuring behind him, Mike asked him if he "really was gonna go through with it." I kept silent.

"Get on your fucking knees, faggot" Kurt commanded.

I blinked, twice. What the fuck? Was this really happening? And like this??

"NOW."

I got on my knees.

"Not there, here!" He said pointing to the floor right in front of him. I got up to walk over.

"You are fucking useless, you know that. Get back down and CRAWL OVER."

I did as I was told.

Well, it finally happened. Without further ado Kurt loosened his Toga and let his ginormous wang flop out. It was still soft but even bigger then I remembered, and now just inches from my face. Holy shit. I inhaled and smelled the beer sweat rankness of his package. I loved it.

Kurt grabbed the back of my head and pulled it towards his dick. I gobbled up the shaft with a loud SLURRRRP and he was almost instantaneously hard. He was about thirteen inches when he was fully boned up.

Goon laughed as he watched, a bit taken by surprise I think by Kurt's member. "Leave it to an asshole like you to have a huge dick."

"Jealous?" Kurt said, still pumping my face. "Don't worry, your sister likes it."

"fuck you" Good said, taking a drink of his beer. He also started rubbing his wn crotch. In fact, all four of the other guys were now.

**

You know how some thing's in life don't measure up to your fantasy of them. Like, something's, no matter how much you think you want or understand them, that they seem one way in your head, when it actually comes to DOING IT it isn't anything like what you imagined. Well sucking Kurt's dick wasn't one of those things. It was perfect, even after all those masturbatory fantasies of it, it surpassed them all. The head was soft and rubbery and the shaft—which seemed to go on and on—so so thick and meaty. Kurt totally ravaged my throat, just like he'd do to any chick, and I choked down his cock the best I could. It was the first dick I'd ever sucked, but I think I was a natural. I couldn't get it all the way down, but would go as far as I could before gagging and spitting up.

"Don't give up yet, asshole" Kurt said, "you got a lot of work to do"

Didn't occur to me at that moment I was gonna be sucking not one but five dicks. After two minutes of me chowing down Kurt's, he pulled me off and shoved me towards Mike's dick. It was a lot smaller but thick like a beer can, and I could barely wrap my mouth around its girth. Mike was even more of an asshole than Kurt, and started pounding it in fully the second I was on his dick. I choked and almost vomited, but he kept pulling me back on his wiener. Took him about 3 minutes before he way pulling my face in tight and rapidly pumping—"I'm gonna cummm" he warned, barely.

My first taste of cum, I wish it were Kurt's, but still an amazing thing. What felt like a gallon of semen exploded inside my mouth. I eagerly swallowed what I could, and let a few drops dribble from my lips. Before I could even think about his load, I was pulled off his dick by Piper.

I blew him next as Kurt continued to laugh and play with his own dick on the couch next to him. Piper's rod was skinny but long, and he had a neat tuft of red hair on top of it. I rubbed his nuts as I sucked him, he was uncut and his dick tasted a bit nastier than the others, but I did my best. Soon he exploded as well and I got a salty mouthful of jizz to chew on. I took my time swallowing, savoring it.

Goon stepped up to bat. But then he half-stepped away, frowning. "Don't know if I have it in me..." he said, looking queasy. His dick was only semi hard, but looked hefty. "This shit is mad gay"

Kurt, even as a Freshman, was in total control: "Relax dude, were just getting fucking head. The only fag here is Tom. Do some coke."

Goon did another bump and then stood over me, let his semi boner hit my cheek. I quickly slurped his bone into me. Kurt grabbed my hair, "feels good right?" He asked goon as he pumped my head up and down for his buddy.

Goon may have been shy but once he got going it was amazing-- he fully used my mouth, taking his 8 incher out every so often to dickslap me across the face. He also hocked a huge loogie in my face right before he was about to jizz: "oh yea bitch u like that I know you do"

Goon shoved his dick so hard into me as he was jazzing that I actually did vomit, though I tried to swallow it down before the guys saw. Kurt slapped the back of my head when he noticed, told me to do a better job. I nodded.

Then I turned to the other upperclassmen sitting there...he looked a bit older, could have even been an alum visiting the house. He instructed me to lick the head of his dick while he jerked off.

I did that for a few minutes, by now Goon and Mike had gone to the other side of the room to take bong rips. Pipe and Kurt passed a joint and talked casually, but Kurt kept an eye on me to make sure I was doing my job.

The alumni guy was scruffy and wore a wool cap, sort of looked like a lumberjack. His dick felt nice against my tongue, probably the best next to Kurt's own. When he came, it spurted out and coated my upper lip, so it looked like I had a cum mustache. I let it drip into my mouth and tried to clean off his dick as much as possible. He pushed me away when he was done, totally spent.

Then I turned back to the main event—Kurt. He knew how bad I wanted him. But when I was about to throat his dick, he pulled it away.

"You are never NEVER to touch my hockey shit bro. You understand?"

"Yes sir"

"From now on, I own you. You do anything I say. For that matter you do anything anyone in this fraternity says. Do you understand?"

"Yeah—I got it, sir"

Mike came over to chime in, "give me twenty bucks"

I looked at Kurt, frozen.

"Did you fucking hear me, Tom?"

I reached into the wallet in the pocket of my shorts under the toga. I took out a twenty dollar bill and gave it to Mike. "Here"

He ripped it from me, "I'm going to get a calzone." And he left.

"Suck my dick" Kurt chimed in, and—of course—I listened. I was saving my best stuff for his dick—and so I quickly deep throated it and fondled his huge nuts, trying to make him feel good. He seemed to enjoy it, except for once where he warned me to "watch the teeth" – I did the best I could.

"Born cocksucker, over here" Piper interjected.

"No shit. You should see him eying me in the dorm. It's fucking disgusting."

I just kept sucking and sucking, hoping for a taste of his jizz. But when he was ready to cum, Kurt did soemthign unexpected—he pulled out.

With a single tug of his rod, he spouted a load fitting for such a stud. Like a coffee mug full of sperm coated my lips, chin, eyes and forehead. It even dripped down my neck and got in my ears. Piper's eyes bulged seeing Kurt's big load – "What the fuck—have you not gotten laid in a month??"

"I got laid this morning" Kurt said, without a trace of sarcasm. This guy was incredible.

**

I cleaned up with a paper towel, while the guys talked. Kurt came up to me a few minutes later.

"Look—get out of here ok? You did your job. But listen—if you ever tell anyone about what went on, or any of this, I will make you pay, you hear?" He was dead serious—looking me into the eye.

I had no intention of squealing, as long as I got to suck this guy's dick. "Kurt, you have nothing to worry about. Just keep feeding me."

"You're such a homo" he said, smirking. He then reached back into the toga and gave his dick a last squeeze, a drop of cum or piss that was left over smoothed over his finger. He half-slapped my face, rubbing it into me. "Scram."

I left the room a completely new man. A bitch.

**

One day I'll tell you about how the rest of that year went—how Kurt used me for head pretty much every day he wasn't banging chicks. How he slowly widened the circle of trust with frat bros he wanted to use me as well. But even as I sucked other dicks, Kurt was always the one I fantasized about. Call it love, call it lust, whatever—he was the world's biggest stud and I belonged to him.

Gotta go now, have some laundry to do. Hockey pads.


I welcome questions or comments: email Striker88888@gmail.com

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