Greetings, Nifty readers! I'm starting a new series of fictional stories about people's first times at college or university, and would love to hear your feedback. Or your ideas! My previous series of stories were (mostly) autobiographical, but these ones aren't constrained by reality, so if you have a particular request, I might be able to oblige you.
If you're interested, you can find my last series at nifty/gay/college/exploring-adam/ ... I'm currently working on the final chapter (at long last) for that one.
I love getting feedback, especially if it includes your specific physical reactions to my stories, heh. Please email me at damon9888@hotmail.com.
Also: in the interests of keeping the story flowing (so to speak) I've omitted any references to condoms ... but of course, we all know to practice safe sex, right?
And finally, please considering donating to Nifty, which is an amazing resource for LGBTQ erotica, fantasy, and just straightforward getting' off. That's me for now. Without further ado:
JONATHAN'S STORY
Jonathan had always considered himself straight—if he thought about it, which he never did until the time he worked in a bookstore and found himself curiously leafing through a collection of gay erotica that had arrived with a shipment of miscellaneous books. Opening it at random, he started reading a story about a gay teenager's infatuation with his drama teacher, as told by his best friend. The best friend was a girl, and also had a crush on both the boy and the teacher, and ended up witnessing the first time the two of them have sex.
There was no other word for it—the story was hot. There was one particular passage that he kept re-reading, in which the student, having been sucked off at length by the teacher, whimpers "I want it" repeatedly, as he reaches for the teacher's cock.
It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday. Jonathan sat in the store's back room, rapt, his cock getting uncomfortably hard as he read about the student finally sucking his teacher. He was startled out of his reverie by the sound of Elise, the girl he worked with, talking to a customer on the other side of the door. Without thinking, he stashed the book out of sight and returned to unpacking the boxes, praying that Elise would not come into the storeroom while his cock still tented his jeans.
Mercifully, she didn't. He finished his work and took over at the cash while she took a break. For the rest of the day, the thought of the book of erotica in its hiding spot lingered in his mind. As Elise locked the door at the end of the day, he said, "Why don't you take off? I can close up."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. You've got that thing, don't you?"
"Thanks!" she grabbed her purse. "I owe you one."
Jonathan did the cash as quickly as he could. When he went back to the storeroom and turned out the main lights, instead of grabbing his bag and jacket, he instead fished out the book and sat in the ancient desk chair. With trembling hands he opened the book to what he'd been reading and this time forced himself to read the story from the beginning, slowly, letting the sexual tension build. When the narrator, from her seat on the teacher's couch, watched the teacher giving the student a massage, Jonathan pressed the heel of his hand against his hard cock through his jeans. When the narrator described the teacher unbuckle the student's belt, Jonathan undid his. As the teacher slid the student's hard, leaking cock from his pants, Jonathan unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and eased his own cock out. And as the story described the teacher sliding his tongue up and down the student's shaft, Jonathan started to stroke himself.
He was a little confused, and felt a vague guilt about how aroused the story was making him. He was not homophobic, but had never considered that he might harbor gay desires. He knew that part of his excitement was from the feeling of doing something taboo ... he also knew, as he stroked himself along with the teacher's expert sucking, that all that mattered in that moment was just how fucking good he was feeling—his cock was so hard, so hungry, he had to slow down a few times to prolong the sensation. Each time he stopped for a moment, the giddy pleasure ratcheted up again, until he started feeling light-headed.
When the story described the student finally getting his lips on his teacher's cock—the narrator said, "I knew he was gay; I also knew he'd never made out with another boy, much less sucked his cock, much less sucked the cock of this man he loved. And I envied him in that moment, the first time he tasted a hard, beautiful cock like that one."—it was too much, and Jonathan's cock erupted.
He sat there for a long while, wondering what had just happened. He would feel remorse later, and the guilt returned, sharper, and he tried to put the prospect that he might be gay out of his head. Had he not been able to climax—if Elise had not left—he probably would have snuck the book home. But in his post-orgasmic regret, he placed the book with the other books to be shelved.
He put the thought of his first gay fantasy out of his mind as best he could, but on more than a few occasions over the next months he'd close the store alone and, plucking the book from its place in the small erotica section, steal into the back room to replay the scene over again. Eventually he read his way through the other stories, but none of them were quite as exciting and arousing as that first one.
Then one day he went to find the book and it was gone.
That was during his last year of high school. He went off to college the next year, and for the first time in his life found that his bookishness and intelligence were attractive to the girls he met rather than a hindrance. He had quite a lot of sex in that first year, enough that he rarely masturbated any more.
In second year he stayed in residence as a don, and thus had a room to himself. Able to surf the web without a roommate peering over his shoulder, he naturally availed himself of online porn on those occasions when his girlfriend made herself unavailable for whatever reason. And as he found himself resorting more often to jerking off, he also found that his mind wandered back on occasion to that book of gay erotica. Tentatively, he started searching out sites with that kind of content; on his hornier nights, when he'd been up studying till 3am and his girlfriend was unavailable, he turned out the lights of his room and entered chatrooms, billing himself as "HotNerd" and that he was bicurious.
By this time, his guilt at indulging in gay fantasies had vanished, in part because his first year had laid to rest (so to speak) the fact that he emphatically liked women. But as his online chats became more adventurous, and he found himself turning down requests for "r/t contact," he started to wonder whether he DID want to experiment in real life ... and more and more, he found himself frustrated and regretful every time he turned people down for r/t.
But it was a moot point, he told himself. He wasn't about to cheat on his girlfriend. And so he indulged from time to time in gay fantasies when the mood took him, never thinking much about, as one of his suitors put it, "a nice big real-time cock."
He and his girlfriend broke up in the summer after second year. She had decided she simply didn't have time for a relationship, as she was an obsessive and competitive pre-med student. He affected sadness when she broke things off, but in reality he was relieved. Not because he could now experiment—that did not actually occur to him at first. He just had grown tired of her distance, and frankly, her obsessive grade-grubbing. Jonathan got As without really trying, a fact that irked her and led her to make snide comments about the uselessness of a philosophy major. Perhaps it was, but he grew weary of hearing it from her.
He got a one-bedroom apartment off-campus in third year. He started to seriously think about r/t on the occasions when he chatted online, but he was always too nervous. Fortunately for him, that was the year he had a class with Gavin and Peter. They were a pair of good friends who took the same Hegel seminar as Jonathan. Gavin was tall and slim, with ginger hair and an infection grin. Peter was shorter and broader through the shoulders, brown hair, and a goatee that came and went about once a month. He hit it off with them immediately: they were very smart, very funny, and soon he was spending a few nights a week with them, either drinking at the pub, studying at the pub, or studying with them at one of their places. They both shared houses with people, and so preferred hanging at Jonathan's.
One night, they were sipping beers and arguing over a point of Hegel's dialectic when Gavin suddenly said, "Hey, can we ask you something?"
"Sure," he replied, surprised.
Gavin and Peter shared a look. "Are you `HotNerd'?" Gavin asked.
He was flabbergasted. "Um ... what?"
"Is that your chat handle?" Peter specified.
Jonathan's mind worked furiously as panic rose in his belly. Had he been hacked? How did they know this? How many people knew?
He must have worn his concern on his face, because Gavin smacked his knee and laughed. "You are, aren't you! I knew it!"
"How ... how did you ..."
"Don't worry," soothed Peter, shooting Gavin an angry look. "It was just a guess. We hang out in that chat room sometimes." He grinned. "We log in as Neil69."
Jonathan felt his stomach flip. He'd chatted with Neil69 before. Several times—they had actually been really hot exchanges.
He glared at them. "So ... what? You just hang out there to mock the fags? Have a good laugh imagining them getting off?"
They both look horrified. "No!" protested Gavin. "God, no!"
Peter shook his head vehemently. "It's, ah, something we sometimes do ... when, you know, we feel like ..." he trailed off, suddenly blushing.
"When we feel like getting each other off," Gavin finished, unembarrassed.
"You guys are ... together?" Jonathan asked.
They shrugged and made noncommittal noises. "We're more like ..." Peter trailed off again.
"Fuckbuddies," said Gavin firmly, and grinned. "There's a reason we're always in the bicurious room. It's actually how we became friends."
"With benefits," nodded Peter.
"So how did you know ...?"
"That you're HotNerd? Well for one thing, you're a hot nerd," said Gavin. "But we also picked up on a couple of clues. You once told a joke you'd said in class. That was when Peter started to suspect."
"Plus, we really just kind of hoped," said Peter. "Because as my friend here observes, you really ARE a hot nerd." He smiled. "And we wondered if you might be into some real-time stuff."
Jonathan's heart quickened as he looked between his two friends, who both regarded him worriedly.
"So, ah ..." he swallowed hard. "How does this usually start?"
They grinned. "That depends," said Gavin. "What have you always wanted to try?"
"Going down on a guy," said Jonathan without hesitating.
"Well, then ..." Gavin stood and walked over to where Jonathan sat on his small couch. Standing in front of him, he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. "You can do the zipper, if you like," he said, his voice suddenly thick.
His hands trembling, Jonathan reached out and slid the zipper down, and peeled the folds of Gavin's jeans back to reveal a pair of tight black boxer-briefs. He pulled down his jeans and underwear together. Gavin's cock was uncut and impressively chubby. Jonathan took the limp organ between his finger and thumb, feeling it start to stir as he touched it. Gavin closed his eyes and moaned.
Jonathan tentatively leaned his head forward and touched the tip of his tongue to Gavin's cock, tasting it, then slowly licking up and down its flaccid length. Gavin moaned again, and his cock slowly started to swell. Fascinated, Jonathan took it in his mouth. He squirmed his tongue against its base as he felt it grow, seeming to unfurl under his attentions. Somewhere miles away he felt Peter sit down on the couch beside him, but all his attention was focused on the slowly growing tube of flesh in his mouth. Gavin started to rock his hips back and forth, gently, and Jonathan responded by sliding his cock in and out of his mouth to the rhythm he called. He felt Peter's hand on his thigh, and then his lips and tongue at his neck. Peter's hand found his cock, hard and straining against the fabric of his jeans, and he pressed the heel of his hand against it.
Gavin's hands fell to Jonathan's head, twining themselves in his hair. "That's nice," he whispered, his eyes closed, his hips rocking back and forth more urgently. His cock was now hard, and when Jonathan gagged as it hit the back of his throat, Gavin eased his rhythm. "Sorry," he said.
Jonathan did not answer, but slid his mouth off his friend's cock and stared at it for a long moment. It was long and slim and arced upward. The head was purplish and swollen, its length slick with Jonathan's saliva. He gave it an experimental stroke, enjoying the weirdly familiar yet alien sensation of holding a cock that was not his own.
A second hand joined his. Peter leaned forward and ran his tongue over Gavin's cock and then sucked it for a few strokes before pulling off and looking sidelong at Jonathan. Jonathan took the invitation and leaned in in his turn, swallowing the cock as deeply as he could for a few strokes and handing it off to Peter. After a few exchanges—with Gavin moaning and trembling above them—Peter gestured to him to get on his knees and face him. Between them was Gavin's cock, visibly throbbing. Together they lapped and nuzzled the base of the shaft from opposite sides, their tongues sliding around the slick flesh to occasionally graze each other. Jonathan followed Peter's lead as he worked toward the tip, and they kissed around the head, then slid their tongue back up and down the cock. Jonathan was so caught up in his first experience of sucking that he almost didn't notice Gavin suddenly tremble and gasp, whimpering incoherently under his breath. His cock suddenly pulsed and spasmed, and he shot a jet of cum onto the couch, then a second. It pulsed again, weakly, and a blob spilled from the tip, dripping thickly down. Before it could drip, Peter quickly ducked his head and gathered it with his tongue, sliding his mouth over Gavin's cock while his friend trembled.
As Gavin recovered, Peter smiled and kissed Jonathan deeply, passing the last bit of Gavin's cum into his mouth. Involuntarily, Jonathan gave an appreciative murmur as he tasted the salty, thick, slightly bitter syrup.
"Fuck," gasped Gavin appreciatively. "That was fucking incredible." With surprising strength, he reached down and hauled Jonathan to his feet and kissed him. The sensation of kissing a man, with the rough stubble, was startling but not unpleasant. Neither was the feeling of the muscles in Gavin's arms and back as he pulled Jonathan close for a moment.
Gavin broke the kiss breathlessly and suddenly his hands were at Jonathan's belt. Peter stepped up beside him and yanked up his sweater and the tee shirt underneath, hauling them over his head as Gavin got his jeans open and pulled them down his legs. Before he knew it, Gavin had him sitting back on the couch in his underwear, his legs open, his hard cock tenting his boxers. He knelt between his legs and ran a hand over the outline of his cock with an appreciative chortle.
"See, Pete?" he said with a wicked grin. "I told you he'd have a nice one."
"Well then, let's see it." Peter pulled his shirt up over his head, revealing a broad, well-defined chest and belly with a fine trail of dark hair from his sternum down to where it disappeared into his pants. For a moment Jonathan just stared, thinking to himself, "I'm getting turned on by a man's body." Though he had just moments before had a cock in his mouth, that seemed like even more of a turning point.
His gaze was torn away from Peter's pecs by Gavin's hands. Rather than pull down his boxers, his friend opted to undo the single button on the fly and fish out his cock. When it emerged, Gavin chortled again. Absurdly, Jonathan felt himself blushing. He'd always been proud of his cock, which was just shy of seven inches, cut, a decent thickness, and ramrod straight. Many of the women he'd been with in his first year had expressed appreciation for it; but somehow it meant more in this moment.
"Mmm. That IS nice," said Peter. He'd shucked his own pants and sat beside Jonathan in his boxer briefs. He reached down and gave his cock a stroke, and leaned over to give it an experimental suck. Jonathan moaned.
"Wait your turn!" said Gavin with mock petulance, giving him a playful shove away. When Peter subsided back into his seat, Gavin leaned forward and swirled his tongue around the head of Jonathan's cock. He lapped at it for a minute, teasing the sensitive skin beneath the head, making Jonathan squirm with pleasure, finally slowly sliding his mouth over his shaft.
Jonathan nearly came right then. Beside him, Peter had leaned forward and was teasing his nipple with his tongue, his own hand pressing against the cock clearly outlined by the tight fabric of his underwear. Jonathan reached down and, moving Peter's hand away, rubbed his cock, feeling the wet spot that had formed by the head. Peter kissed him. As their tongues slid around each other, Jonathan fumbled with the waistband of his underwear, sliding his hand beneath to grasp the hot, hard shaft. Peter moaned into his mouth.
Jonathan moaned back and broke the kiss to look down first at Gavin, who was now sucking him with abandon, and then to look down at Peter's cock. His breath caught—it was huge, at least eight inches. Making a bestial sound in his throat he'd never heard before, he started stroking it.
That kept up like that for a few minutes until Jonathan finally said, his voice ragged, "We have to move."
Gavin looked up at him and grinned. "Where to?"
They stood and, none of their legs entirely working, stumbled into the bedroom. Jonathan's bed was unmade, but he just grasped the sheets and tore them off, depositing them on the floor beside. They collapsed together on the bed in a tangle of limbs and grasping hands, slowly arranging themselves so that Peter sat at the head of the bed with his back to the wall. Jonathan got on his hands and knees in front of him, his lips and tongue sliding deliriously over that huge cock. Gavin lay on his back between Jonathan's legs and continued his attentions to his cock. Jonathan found himself thrusting down into Gavin's mouth. Gavin's hands explored his thighs and lower back, caressing his ass. When one of his fingers, slick with his own saliva and Jonathan's precum, found its way to his hole, Jonathan felt him hesitate, tentative. For a moment he tensed, but the moment overcame him. In for a penny, he thought, and pushed his ass back and spread his legs wider.
The sensation of Gavin's finger pressing past his sphincter made him moan even louder around Peter's cock. Encouraged, Gavin slid it deeper as he continued to suck him.
Peter, meanwhile, had slumped back against the wall, his head thrown back, his eyes closed. It was hard for Jonathan to distinguish between the pleasures he was experiencing: he found himself veritably worshipping Peter's cock, running the surface of his tongue up and down its length with the ecstatic devotion of a religious acolyte, but it seemed to him as Gavin sucked him that he was sucking himself, feeling that hot mouth close over his own cock as his closed over Peter's.
Suddenly Gavin drew his finger out of his ass and took his mouth off his cock and Jonathan vaguely felt him shimmy out from between his legs. Before he could wonder what was happening, he felt Gavin's tongue flicker over his hole.
Well, THAT was new.
He heard Peter chuckle as he moaned louder. "Haven't felt that before?" he murmured, his hands in Jonathan's hair. "Enjoy it. Gavin's REALLY good at it."
In all his life, Jonathan had never imagined that he would so enjoy such a sensation. In his chatroom sessions, he had obligingly played along with his partners when they described being fucked or fucking him. And he knew, of course, that it must be pleasurable, or else people wouldn't do it ... but he was only really ever interested in thinking about sucking. The virtual fucking sections were exciting, but mostly because of the urgency with which his partners wrote.
Now, feeling Gavin's talented tongue swirling around and probing his hole, and enraptured with Peter's gorgeous, engorged cock, Jonathan felt himself pass over into a new realm of pleasure. Without thinking, he took his mouth off Peter's cock and, looking over his shoulder, he croaked, "Fuck me."
Gavin paused. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice at once dubious and excited.
"Fuck me."
Jonathan pointed to the nightstand and Peter retrieved a tube of lube, which he tossed to Gavin. Jonathan didn't pay attention, but returned to his ministrations on Peter's cock. At some point, a voice in the back of his mind said, you're really going to have to learn to deep throat ... He could only take a fraction of that monster in his mouth, and resorted mostly to bathing its exterior with his lips and tongue and stroking its slick length with his hands. Peter did not seem to care—indeed, he had been lost in wordless ecstasy since they made their way into the bedroom, every so often murmuring incoherently at Jonathan encouragements and praise.
He felt Gavin slather his hole with the cool lube and a moment later the pressure of his cockhead. For a moment it was just the pressure, then a sharp pain as Gavin pressed forward, stretching his sphincter. He paused in sucking Peter to hiss, and Gavin paused.
"Want me to stop?" he asked.
"No," Jonathan grated.
"You sure?"
"In for a penny, in for a fuck," he said. "Do it!'
Gavin slid his cock into him slowly, and Jonathan whimpered. It hurt like hell, but somewhere in the pain he sensed the promise of pleasure. He distracted himself by taking Peter in his mouth as far as he could manage and holding him there, squirming his tongue against the underside of his cock. Apparently that was a good thing, for Peter moaned and twisted his hips. Jonathan obliged him by twisting his head in the opposite direction, and started sliding his mouth up and down in corkscrew fashion while he stroked the rest of the shaft.
Meanwhile, Gavin had pushed his cock into him up to the hilt. For a moment he held it there, letting Jonathan get used to it, and then started sliding back out. The downstroke was less painful: and as the pain eased, he started feeling that sensation of Gavin's tongue on his hole, only one hundredfold. He moaned around Peter's cock. After two or three slow strokes, it started feeling GOOD. On the fifth upstroke, he pressed his ass back against Gavin eagerly.
Peter's cock popped out of his mouth, and he gasped, "Oh, fuck. Yes. Fuck me."
Gavin gradually increased his tempo. Ecstatically, Jonathan started sucking Peter harder and faster, and soon his hips were bucking as he gasped and moaned. After a few moments, Peter's legs grew stiff, and his cock swelled even larger. "Fuck. Oh fuck," he gasped. "I'm cumming."
In the last few seconds Peter's cock swelled so much it barely fit in his mouth. Jonathan pulled off, still frantically stroking, and had just enough presence of mind to keep his mouth open over the head, his tongue out, just as Peter keened a surprisingly high-pitched cry and his cock throbbed in Jonathan's hand and exploded with a burst of hot cum that only partly got in his mouth. The rest sprayed over his cheeks and face, and then again, and then again.
Meanwhile, Gavin's pace had slowed down as he watched his friend cum. He ground his hips into Jonathan's ass and Jonathan responded by pushing back. Somewhere from he didn't know where, the words "Fuck me" burbled up from the depths of his gut.
"Fuck me!"
"Oh, you like that?" Gavin growled at him. "You've got such a sweet, tight ass."
"Yeah. Fuck, I like that. Fuck me."
"Roll over." That was Peter.
Gavin pulled out, making Jonathan whimper. At the urging of Peter, he rolled over onto his back, and Gavin positioned himself again between his legs.
"Ready for me again?" he whispered.
"Fuck me," Jonathan said.
Gavin held up Jonathan's legs and again pressed the head of his cock against his hole. This time when he slipped inside, Jonathan moaned, amazing himself with how wanton he sounded, and not caring a whit. All there was was cock, Gavin's cock filling his ass with more pleasure than he'd ever experienced.
Peter slid down next to him and kissed him. Jonathan kissed him back hungrily. Peter's lips and tongue wandered to the corner of his mouth, and Jonathan realized he was licking and sucking up his own cum. He slurped his way over his cheeks, and slowly migrated south, kissing his neck, finding his nipples and teasing them to hardness.
Jonathan could barely talk. He could barely think. He watched in dumb ecstasy Gavin's face above him, itself contorted in the throes of pleasure; Gavin had kept up a steady stream of observations about his ass, its hotness, how tight it was, all of which elevated Jonathan's pleasure; all he could do was respond with guttural moans and the occasional "fuck me!" and "oh god."
Then Peter made his way down to his cock, which felt now like it had been so hard for so long that it was bursting. When he felt his hot, wet mouth close over it, his eyes rolled back in his head. That he did not cum immediately was a miracle. Peter sucked him expertly in time to Gavin's fucking.
It only took a moment. "Oh fuck," he whimpered. "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum!"
"Let me see it!" Gavin growled, and Peter obliged him by taking his mouth off Jonathan's cock and stroking him to conclusion. Jonathan cried out as he came, jetting his seed onto Peter's tongue and face, and his own belly. Gavin growled again as he watched and stiffened, and cried, "Oh fuck, me too!"
Jonathan felt Gavin's cock twitch deep inside him. He rammed it in deep and held it there, his whole body trembling, repeating "Ohfuckohfuck."
They collapsed together in a tangle of sweaty cum-splattered limbs.
It was a long time before anyone moved. Finally, Gavin murmured, "Well. I think that went well, don't you guys?"
Peter started to laugh, and Jonathan joined him, thinking about all the adventures that were to come.