THE LANCERS CLUB

THE LANCERS CLUB, by Steven M. Hobbes

Part One

When I went off to college I didn't really know if I was gay or not. I'd had a girlfriend or two during high school in Dallas, but those relationships never went any where sexually or emotionally. Looking back on it I laugh, considering the date I took to the prom was 6'3"" and captain of the girl's basketball team. I imagine she probably laughs about that now with her lesbian friends too. Hey, it was the early 1970s and there weren't too many liberated teens back then, especially in Dallas, Texas! Most of my homo energy during those years was spent fantasizing about the other boys on the soccer team while jerking off in my bedroom.

My freshman year I went away to a college in San Antonio, a city whose population is about half Anglo and half Mexican-American. In fact, most of the members of my high school French Club (stop that smirking!) went to the same college. As the weeks went by, we all enjoyed the sunny atmosphere of new-found freedom. In fact, one by one, former members of the French Club started coming out of the closet. I went to a gay bar for the first time to celebrate a freind's coming-out, but throughout the first semester I couldn't quite come to grips with my own sexuality.

Still a soccer jock, I joined the college team and became friends with a number of guys that way. I hit it off with a Chicano fellow named David. The college was a small private school and most of the students were white middle class "native" Texans. Dave and I hit it off for a couple of reasons besides the one that will become obvious soon.

I was originally from back East, Boston, Massachusetts to be exact. I'm a white guy with Scottish and French ancestry, 5'10", brown hair, green eyes. I'm not stretching the truth in saying I was in damn good shape when I was 19, having spent a lot of time practising gymnastics and playing soccer from the time I was 12. (Of course I was a bit skinnier then and my hair is starting to turn gray now, but people still tell me I'm cute ;-)

David Gallegos Fuentes, a year older than me, was one of the few Latino students attending the place. A native of Corpus Christi on the Texas Gulf coast, he spoke both English and Spanish well, was about 6'0" with golden skin, deep brown eyes, black hair and a charming smile. We formed a bond at first around making jokes at the expense of our "cowboy" team mates. According to our shared outsider perspectives, the Texan rednecks took their sports way too seriously, had neanderthal political views and manners to match.

We both did pretty well academically, while most of our team mates tended to cluster towards the bottom of the academic ladder. Furthermore, we were both on academic scholarships. Neither of our families were poor, but unlike many of the kids at this college, we weren't from rich families either. This gave us another reason to gloat over our differences from the "cowboys", who were mainly from Dallas and Houston families with plenty of money or connections.

There were a few other outsiders on the soccer team -- I especially remember one Dutch guy and pot-smoking long haired dude from New York -- who didn't make any secret about their drug and same-sex escapades during the first semester of my freshman year in San Antonio. They even invited me and Dave to join them a couple of times, but we demurred. Talking about gay sexploits, much less doing anything about it, wasn't part of our rapport and Dave wasn't into drugs at all. Silly of us? In hindsight, yes, probably. We were both from fairly uptight families and neither of us had yet found the way to express ourselves sexually. But it turned out we had a better plan anyway, we just hadn't realized it yet.

The college dorms were arranged so that two people shared a room, which in turn shared a bathroom with the dorm room next door. So we were clustered into suites of four people sharing a bathroom. The guy I'd been rooming with the first semester was an asthmatic whiner from a rich oil family. He wasn't a native Texan either, which might have given us something in common, but in fact we didn't get along very well. In the room next door was a kid we called "Tex" because he had such a strong Texan accent. Built like the proverbial brick shithouse and dumb a doorpost, Tex would spend hours in the bathroom getting all steamed up, no doubt wrestling with his longhorn. This was doubly frustrating for me -- first, that he was monopolizing the bath room and second, that I hadn't been invited to the rodeo.

At the start of the second semester, I arranged a switch so I could share a room with Dave. That was great. After a few days, it became normal to see each other naked coming out of the shower, or nearly naked getting in and out of bed. (We both slept with our shorts on.) I certainly liked what I saw -- my first uncut dick, thick and long and juicy -- and a hairless bubble butt to go with it! Then we stopped bothering to wait for each other to finish showering before going in to brush our teeth or whatever. We helped each other out with studying. And when the university soccer league ended its season, we both joined the same city league team. All in all, we were great pals and good room mates.

By this time I was getting a much clearer idea of where I wanted this relationship to go, but still didn't have a clue about how to go about it. I knew I wanted David and I was pretty sure he wanted me too, but I had no clear idea of how to go about making it happen. As it turned out, I followed my nose and the rest of my body and soul followed.

One fine morning, Dave had an early bio-chem class after having stayed up a bit too late drinking beer with me and the other guys from the city league soccer team. Usually neat and tidy, this time he'd thrown his briefs on his bed after getting dressed in hurry and left them there. As soon as he was out the door, I slipped over to his bed, lay down and buried my nose in his underwear. The smell of him overpowered me. I couldn't resist trying out his pillow too, imagining myself lying next to him. Next I dove under his covers, literally sniffing around for cum stains. That's when the door opened and Dave ran over to his desk to grab a book he'd forgotten. He stopped short and stared at the unexpected sight of his loyal room mate sheepishly peeking out from under the sheets of Dave's own bed.

He just smiled, said "I'll see you later", and ran back out to go to class.

After classes and dinner that day, Dave and I engaged in some casual chit-chat and a number of shy but eager glances. Our beds were arranged close to each other, with just a small nightstand separating them, in other words near enough that you could reach over to the other bed if you were so inclined. That night, I was. Soon after the lights were out, I reached over to Dave's bed with my foot (we were soccer fanatics after all!), lifted up the side of his sheets and was soon playing a quiet game of footsie with my buddy. That seemed to get a friendly response, so my foot travelled on up his leg to his crotch. I was pleased to find that his shorts were already gone and started feeling his balls and his dick with my toes. My delight increased when his leg reached across and returned the favor.

So there we were, two chummy queer soccer jocks getting each other hard using more or less the same exercises normally reserved for edging the ball past the rival team. We were both excited and soon hard as pistons. It was a pretty silly position to be in, with our legs dangling across the space between our beds and we both started giggling. That was all it took to empty the last well of reserve between us.

I flopped myself over into Dave's bed, whispered in his ear, "I want to suck your dick," and promptly went to work.

I felt his hard-on with my hand. I loved its silkiness and warmth and was tremendously excited to finally feel what it was like to be so close to another guy's throbbing cock. I fondled his balls - no foul in this game! -- and as Dave encouraged me with sighs of pleasure I lowered my lips over the end of his dick. There was that manly aroma again, but much stronger! Despite my lack of experience, I was soon sucking away for all I was worth. Dave grabbed the back of my head and started fucking my mouth in earnest. I was so excited that by the time he came in my mouth a few minutes later, I had shot my load onto his sheets with only the pressure of his knees against my balls as encouragement.

We lay together in his bed afterwards, trembling with pleasure and excitement, breathing as hard as if we'd just come off the field at halftime. He caressed the side of my face, then gently kissed me on the lips. We fell asleep in each other's arms, but I was careful to be back in my bed before dawn. Always a neatness freak, Dave had his sheets in the laundry before breakfast. We left for our classes that morning after a number of loving looks. Neither of us really knew what to say, but we understood each other perfectly.

Our suite-mates, the pair with whom we shared a bath room, were named Ron and Rocco. Ron was a "good ol' boy" from Houston, a real Aryan-Texan type with short-cropped blonde hair, pretty blue eyes and a serious drawl. Although fraternities were frowned upon at the college, there was one social club for men from the "right" kind of families. Ron was president of the The Lancers Club, as they were called, and he came from a military family. For me it was a bit like Tex-Redux, except Ron had much better social skills than the "Tex" from my first semester and, since he had plenty of girl friends, he didn't seem to need to spend so much time getting lathered up in the shower.

His room mate Rocco was a third-generation Italian-American from a suburb near Dallas. There was probably some Irish in his family tree because he had curly reddish-brown hair. Like many people from Dallas, Rocco did not have a strong Texan accent. I think his Dad was in banking or insurance and his family were probably fairly recent "immigrants" to Texas. Rocco was more of an arrivé-cowboy rather than the genuine article. Of the two, Rocco was the brain trust and Ron was the social secretary. Their deal seemed to be that Rocco helped Ron pass his exams and Ron helped Rocco make his entrée into Texas society, such as it is.

They were essentially good-natured guys. Both of them were also on the college soccer team, so we had known each other fairly well even before becoming suite-mates. The four of us had a teasing kind of relationship. Dave and I would make disparaging remarks about "cowboys" and "rednecks" and they'd return the favor with the usual set of digs about "Mexicans" and "Yankees", but it was always in jest and never turned nasty. Nevertheless, we weren't at all sure how Ron and Rocco would react to finding out their suite-mates were also bed-mates, so as the days went on and Dave and I deepened our relationship, we were careful to keep the doors closed, the shades drawn and our groans of pleasure muffled.

And our relationship definitely deepened. The night after our game of footsie, it was only a few seconds after the lights were out before Dave was under my covers returning the favor of the night before. I guess he'd been as anxious to taste my white meat as I'd been to lick his cinnamon skin -- maybe even more so. In his eagerness, I felt a few painful teethmarks on my tenderness and had to offer him some advice based on my now-profound experience of the night before. But he was a fast learner too and quickly started using his lips most effectively in my humble opinon. Before too long I was gushing a hot load of cum down his throat.

The nights passed like reading the Kama Sutra. Each night we tried out something new, following our noses, as it were, to the next step in pleasure-giving and pleasure-receiving. We sixty-nined with me on top, with Dave on top, side by side. We jerked each other off. We learned to kiss. We discovered the erogenous zones around our tits and necks and underarms. We came between each other legs. And of course soon enough we started playing with each others butts.

I was laying on my back with my legs spread across the space between our beds while Dave was crouched down on his knees licking my balls, sucking my cock and occasionally reaching up to twist my tits. His tongue started roaming around my crotch, kissing me here, licking me there, until finally his tongue reached the spot between my balls and my boy-hole. This sent something of shockwave through me. My legs shot up and I spread my knees wide open.

"Oh man!" I moaned (at least I thought I was moaning), "That feels great! Oh god...oh man...".

With my hole now smack-dab in his face, Dave did the logical thing and rammed his tongue into it. At first I thought I was going to repeat my performance from the first night and spontaneously ejaculate. My excitement must have been palpable because Dave grabbed the back of my thighs and pushed my legs up over me, so now my butt was in the air. He tongue-fucked me until I was literally shaking with pleasure. He finally stood up. I don't think our erections had ever been quite so hard. We pressed them together and in a frenzy jerked each other off into a big sloppy mess.

The next day was Saturday. The Lancers were having a social event on Sunday night with a sorority from a private girls school in town. In Texas, the thing to do at these social events is a dance called the two-step. Being a true longhorn, Ron had learned to two -step from the time he was just a wee heiffer, but Rocco was still learning the ropes. Not wanting his pal to appear uncouth, and much to our amusement, we awoke Saturday morning to the sounds of Texas Swing blaring from their stereo and the sight of Ron teaching Rocco to two-step out on the balcony-walkway that provided common egress to all of the dorms in the complex.

When we emerged from our room to tease the cowboy couple, I was a bit taken aback when the first bit of repartee out of Ron's mouth was something along the lines of, "So who were the fine young fillies you boys were banging last night?".

All I could picture in my mind's eye was me with my legs up in the air and Dave's tongue cleaning out my guts while I'm -- screaming -- "Oh man! Don't stop!".

I was speechless. Dave recovered nicely, though, and quickly made up a story about a girl named Nancy he knew from bio-chem class. He even covered my ass (ha-ha) by saying that I'd been gentleman enough to stay out drinking most of the night.

This seemed to satisfy Ron, but as he was twirling Rocco around the balcony I noticed Rocco's inquisitive eyes on me showing something of a glimmer of secret amusement.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. In the afternoon a couple of Ron's "fillies" came by to finish up Rocco's dancing lesson. After R & R left that night to go out drinking with some of their buddies, David and I started a bit earlier than usual in picking up on our kama sutra lessons. Following our pattern of learning from each other, this time I practised the new joys of rimming while Dave sputtered in Spanish with delight. We were pleased with ourselves for having buffaloed the cowboys into believing we were upright dudes and, assuming they would be out drinking all night, didn't do much to muffle our enthusiasm.

It must have been well after midnight. We'd moved from rimming to finger-fucking. I had two fingers up Dave's butt and was slurping away on his big cock. Being preoccupied, we didn't hear our drunken cowboy friends come home. About the time I heard the john flush, it crossed my mind that I'd forgotten to close the bath room door. As Dave was pumping his hips up and down, flinging his head back and forth and yelping "Ay-yi-yi!" and I was gulping down his sweet Chicano nectar, I distinctly heard a slurred "Boy howdy!" from the vicinity of the bath room, followed by the sound of the door closing.

The next day was Sunday, the day of the Lancers' social. Nobody was moving around until late morning. Dave and I had made quite a mess out of our bedsheets and Sunday was his usual day for doing laundry anyway, so he was off to the laundry room shortly after lunch. Ron had left to go help with the party preparations, so it was just me and Rocco in the suite.

I was doing my calculus homework when I heard Rocco call out my name from the other room, "Hey Hobbes, c'mere a minute. I want to show you something."

We actually shared an interest in mathematics and I thought he had probably figured out some new use for imaginary numbers or something. Imagine my surprise when I walked into his room and found him reclining on his bed, butt-naked, caressing a hard-on. Rocco could be quite a smooth character when he put his mind to it.

"I talked to Nancy," he said, referring to the woman Dave had claimed to have slept with. "She said she's seeing Nelson, not Fuentes."

The Lancers always referred to men by their last names. He meant Dave. All the while he was staring right into my eyes, slowly stroking his thick eight-incher. His pubic hair had the same reddish tint as the hair on his head, and he also sported a nice furry mat of red hair on his pumped-up chest.

I said something clever like "Ummm" and involuntarily licked my lips.

He glanced at his cock, which kind of jumped, and he then looked back at me. "I have this social tonight. You know... Ron says its best to jerk yourself off before going to one of these things. That way you're not so... uptight... when meeting the ladies."

When he said "uptight" his cock twitched again. He could be a real charmer. My dick was starting to strain against my Levis.

"You fellas seemed to be having alot of fun last night," he went on, "but I didn't see any ladies in there with you."

He grinned. I grinned back and tried to think of some way to save my reputation.

"Ummm...well...we were just experimenting..." I stuttered, "you know...".

Rocco squeezed his balls. "Yeah. Well, I was thinking maybe you'd like to experiment with this."

He laid back on his pillows and spread his legs open wider. I could see the cute little red hairs around his nice pink asshole.

"Come on. I know you want it. Be a buddy and help me out here. Nobody needs to know."

And that was all it took. I sucked his cock and licked his balls and dug my hands into his furry chest. Given the latest lesson I'd learned with Dave, I even tried to finger-fuck him, but he didn't want that so I didn't push it. When he was ready to cum, I jerked him off instead of swallowing it. Somehow it seemed like it would be betraying my lover to swallow Rocco's jizz, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was real gentleman about the whole thing.

"Thanks, good buddy," he said when we were done, "you're all right."

And I went back to my calculus.

When Dave got back from doing the laundry I told him the whole story in a whisper. I thought he was going to bust a gut from laughter. He found it hiilarious that big 'ol "ladies man" Rocco had wanted his willy wiped by little ol' me. I was having trouble being quite so nonchalant about it and asked him if he wasn't a little nervous about the whole thing. That's when Dave shared with me his insights into "steers and queers".

According to Dave, the whole Texas machismo thing is a cover for what is in reality a profoundly homoerotic culture. Women are put up on an impossible, nearly unreachable pedestal, while men and boys spend their whole lives admiring each other's physical prowess. He said that real cowboys have been fucking each other for two hundred years and that this is echoed in the Texan macho "mystique".

I'd never thought of it like this. Being a more or less died-in-the-wool Northerner with typical Yankee prejudices against the South, the whole cowboy thing had always just struck me as kind of stupid. I'd never taken the time to try to figure out its origins.

David said the same thing exists among Chicanos, especially in Texas where the "cowboy (or vaquero) way" is more entrenched than in other parts of the US -- and that it happens much the same way in Mexico. He explained to me that it isn't at all uncommon for "cowboys" to want to have their cock sucked, or to even fuck another man, as long as they can still feel like they are "the man". In other words, as long as they don't feel that they are playing the role of the woman in a sexual encounter. This was pretty deep stuff. I was surprised that Dave had given it so much thought, especially considering how long it taken for us to get it on, and I told him so.

That's when he gave me the second lesson in Texan -- and homosexual -- culture. He said he'd known he was gay for a long time and that while he was growing up he was always being propositioned by cowboy-types, both Anglos and Chicanos. He'd even sucked a couple of cocks when he was a teenager, but had stopped when all the thanks he got was getting slapped around and being threatened with getting beat up.

He had decided to wait until he met someone who really appreciated him for who he was, who really wanted him, and who was willing to reciprocate and not just use him. Dave told me he'd fallen in love with me at first sight and was sure I was the one, but had purposely waited until he was absolutely sure. When I made the first move, when I had sucked his cock first, he said, then he knew he was right. By the time he was done with this lesson, there were tears running down my face.

So while the Lancers danced their two-step in the Texan moonlight, that night we really fucked for the first time. He was gentle with me, getting my butt all loosened up and slippery with his tongue, then with his fingers and a bit of petrolem jelly. He eased his cock into me, slipping it in and out just a little bit, then pushing it in a little deeper, fucking me some more, then deeper, until finally he was buried in my ass up to his balls.

Then he just lay there on top of me for a long time, alternatingly drilling his tongue down my throat and whispering Castillian endearments in my ear, "Querido mio...te quiero...".

I felt like I was swathed in cotton balls, like we had become one person, like his cock was an extension of me, as if he had turned on a magic switch that I'd never known was there. An electric warmth was emanating from my guts, starting from where his cock was massaging my... soul... and spreading throughout my body. When he started fucking me in earnest, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I came when he did, this time spontaneously shooting a stream of cum so huge and long that it seemed like some kind of creamy fireworks.

We kissed and cuddled and caressed for hours afterwards, swearing undying love and friendship to each other.

Continue to Part Two....

[ Part 3: "Unknown Document" ]

THE LANCERS CLUB

Part Two

Things went on in pretty much the normal way the days and weeks after that. We continued our queer love-making on a regular basis (and had to do a lot of laundry!). After the episode with Rocco, we were much more careful about keeping the doors closed and shades drawn, but any nosy suite-mate couldn't have missed the heavy moans, cries of delight and bed-pounding sounds as we took turns fucking the living daylights out of each other night after night.

Rocco would occaisionally give me a knowing grin, but never said anything about our encounter nor about me and Dave. Ron seemed to be oblivious to the whole thing.

Dave and I were still uneasy about coming-out per se, nor did either of us have eyes for anyone else, so we didn't frequent the gay bars except when invited to go with a group -- usually my old French Club buddies from high school. They were delighted that I had finally "seen the light", but as far as romance goes, Dave and I mostly stuck to dinner dates at our favorite Mexican restaurants and cantinas on the other side of town.

At one point, I had to fend off advances from a cute boy named Michael in my Philosophy class. And after she broke up with Peter Nelson, Dave had to convince Nancy from his bio-chem class that the rumours he was sweet on her were untrue.

One weekend we hopped in my car -- an old station wagon my Dad had given me as a high school graduation present -- and drove to the beach at Padre Island, not too far from Corpus Christi. Dave showed me some of his old haunts. We walked on the beach -- which was covered with jellyfish, ugh! -- and sucked each other silly in the back of the station wagon under the stars.

Another weekend my parents, who had moved back to Boston at the beginning of the year, came to visit and we all had a nice dinner together. I found out years later that my mother had figured out the whole situation with me that weekend. But that's another story.

David did me the honor of showing me some of the funny little items he kept in a bag that his tia la bruja had given him -- some stones, feathers and other items that were supposed to provide protection from evil-doers.

One memorable night we snuck into the locker room and fucked on the benches, fulfilling a fantasy we'd both had from our high school days.

That cute kid Michael from my philosophy class managed to entice us into his dorm room one night, where he got Dave drunk and me stoned, and we proceeded to engage in our first sloppy three-way.

I guess it was about the beginning of Spring. The next major Lancers social event was scheduled to take place in a week. By this time Rocco had learned to dance a reasonable two-step.

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon and we were all hanging out in R & R's room, drinking beers and shooting the breeze. Rocco and I were comparing notes on matrix theory. Ron and Dave were engaged in a Texan Anglo-vs.-Chicano version of "the dozens"...

Ron: "You Mexicans eat so many beans your farts supply all the natural gas Brownsville needs."

Dave: "You rednecks are so full of shit we're going to start exporting you to Mexico for fertilizer."

Et cetera, et cetera.... It was hot. We were all wearing shorts. Dave and I had t-shirts on. Ron was wearing a tank top and Rocco had done away with his shirt altogether.

Rocco was sitting right next me as we reviewed our notes. I felt his leg rub up against mine from time to time. I ignored that and kept right on talking about our studies. By the time we had gotten through our review, I could see a little tent had sprouted up in Rocco's gym pants.

Dave and Ron were slapping each other on the back, their game over for now, just generally having a good time calling each other pet names like "you fucking greaser" and "you stupid redneck".

We were all pretty well into our beers by then, especially Ron. It was one of those timeless moments you get sometimes on a hot South Texas afternoon, when it's just about too hot to think and there's a kind of profound stillness in the air. San Antonio is famous for the massive thunderstorms that come rolling in from the southern plains, especially on hot Spring evenings. So this was literally the calm before the storm and the four of us were in a fine, almost other-worldly, mood.

It seems like in every group of friends, gay or straight, there's always one who takes great pleasure in making sexual remarks or innuendos in every possible situation. For us, that was Ron. There was no end to his stories about who he'd "banged" or who had "banged" whom. There was no double-entendre that he hadn't labored to death. He was also very big into making stupid "gay jokes" and since Dave had clued me into the true nature of Texas machismo, I found these remarks much funnier than I used to, especially since Ron seemed to be unaware of why we thought they were so funny.

So it was no real surprise, when Rocco stood up to grab another beer from the little dorm fridge, that Ron noticed the growth in his room mate's manliness and made a remark along the lines of "Hey Debenedictis, looks like studying math with Hobbes got you all excited, buddy!".

They say in vino veritas and it works the same way for beer, especially when the mood is right.

Without missing a beat, Rocco grabbed his crotch in a classic straight-boy pose and announced, "Matter of fact, Duvall, did you know that Hobbes here gives great head? He gave me an unbelieveable blowjob before that last Lancers social."

Ron turned his pretty blue eyes on me, twinkling with beery delight, and said, "Is that right?".

It was the silence within the silence, the moment of truth, as if time were standing completely still. Ron was staring at me in a friendly way. Rocco was nonchalantly rubbing his crotch and looking very pleased with himself. It seemed to me that Dave looked like a brujo who has just cast a spell -- I couldn't for the life of me figure out what he was thinking. Then almost imperceptibly I saw Dave glance at Ron's butt, then at me, then nod his head ever so slightly.

With all the courage and coolness I could muster, and in my best husky sexy voice, I stared Ron right back in the eye and said, "Sure, big boy. Wanna see for yourself?"

Ron was in a bit of shock. He'd apparently thought we were engaging in another round of "the dozens". I stood up, walked over to him, dropped to my knees and yanked his shorts to the ground, followed by his briefs, grabbed his balls with one hand and started slurping down his cock, which was a bit smaller than I'd expected, but still a nice size and with a wonderful taste. He kind of went weak in the knees and muttered "Boy howdy!" a couple of times, but his dick was expanding in my mouth and he didn't seem to be protesting. Figuring I might as well push my luck, I wrapped my hands around his firmly packed ass and started massaging it and pulling his butt cheeks apart while I sucked his cock.

"Hoo-whee!" I heard from Rocco, "What did I tell you!?"

I glanced over at him. He'd lost his gym shorts and was stroking a hard-on, obviously getting off on watching his room mate get a good hummer. Given the frivolous atmosphere, I guess, or maybe just being carefully attuned to my attention to Ron's sweet ass, Dave joined in by dropping down behind Ron and sticking his talented tongue right up Ron's virgin fuckhole.

Although I was bit pre-occupied at the time, I recall that Rocco's rejoinder to this development was "Oh Jeez! Oh Jeez!" and some increasingly frantic pumping on his part.

We soon had Ron turned to jelly and it was all we could do to keep him from falling over. About the time Ron shot his wad, I heard one last "Oh Jeez!" from Rocco and felt a splat of cum hit my back.

Ron collapsed onto his bed, where he rolled around muttering "Oh fuck!" and "Sheee-it!" over and over.

Rocco was shaking his flagging stiffie around, flinging little bits of cum hither and yon, whooping alot and carrying on.

Dave looked like he'd just won the lottery. He took a big swig of beer, then lifted me up from the floor, put his tongue in my ear (which I love), then kissed me, squeezed my balls, and said for everyone's benefit, "Now let's show these cowboys how it's really done."

He undressed me and shucked his own clothes. I was already covered with sweat, so it didn't take much more lubricant from his talented mouth to prepare me for a right proper buggering. We played it up for all we were worth. With my hands up against the wall and all the moaning and groaning we could muster in two languages, Dave fucked the hell out me right there in front of Ron and Rocco. I was still hard after he'd come, so while I leaned against the wall he started sucking me off and finger-fucking me.

To my astonishment, then I heard good ol' Ron opine, "Man, I've gotta have some of that."

Soon I found out why he was so popular with the girls. Even though it had only been a few minutes since he'd gotten his rocks off, and despite all the beer he'd had, before I knew it he was on his feet and had his six-incher stuffed up my ass pounding away while Dave continued to blow me.

Not to be out-done, Rocco responded by trying to fuck Dave, whose ass was conveniently pointing up in the air in his direction, but without much luck. Always wanting to be helpful (heh-heh) and interested in seeing how far this might go, I gasped to Rocco, amidst all the fucking and sucking going on, that he was going to have to get Dave's hole wet before he could fuck it.

I could almost see the gears turning in Rocco's head. This was a moment of crisis (and not the last one, as it turned out) for his own sense of machismo. Getting your dick sucked or fucking a guy is one thing, but licking another guy's butt, and a "Mexican" butt at that...hmmm!

Ron was in fine form, with lots of "unnhs" and "aaahs" as he worked his stiff little dick around my boy-pussy, oblivous to his buddy's cultural dilemma. Ron even started nibbling on my neck.

I noticed Rocco's resolution of his problem with some satisfaction. He took a huge swig of beer and then dove into Dave's bung hole. That made a kind of logical sense. In Texas, after all, beer is a boy's best friend. I looked down into Dave's delicious brown eyes while he took a break from my cock to suck on my balls. His eyes were grinning with delight.

About the time that Rocco finally got his groove back and had started fucking Dave, Ron grabbed me around the waist, bit my neck and slammed his cock up my ass for all he was worth. I could feel him cum inside me. In a kind of chain reaction, I blasted my load into Dave's waiting mouth.

Once Ron had pulled out of me, I helped Dave get to his feet and started jerking him off while Ron fucked him. This time it was Dave's turn to try pushing the limit. Over my shoulder, he said to Ron, "So, vato, doesn't my boy have the finest pussy you've ever banged?"

Then, more subversively, "Why don't you show your appreciation by showing me what you can do? Come on, cowboy, nobody has to know."

I moved aside. It didn't take so long for the gears to turn in Ronnie's head. He ran a hand down Dave's torso, and took his cock in his hand. After staring at Dave for a moment, just holding his cock in his hand, he slowly lowered himself until he was eye-to-eye with Dave's dick, started licking it and after a few experimental tastes, took it in his mouth. It didn't take Dave long to blast off into that ersatz cowboy's head, finishing up just as Rocco exhausted himself into Dave's rear end.

It was a sight to see. Ron was licking bits of Dave's cum that were dribbling out of his mouth. Dave and I had R & R's cum dripping from our asses. Rocco was waving his cock around again, going "Whoo-eee!" and "Jeee-ziz!".

As Dave and Ron and I set about cleaning ourselves up and pulling some clothes back on, and Rocco went to the fridge for another beer, the first big thunderclap hit, quickly followed by a torrential downpour. We all sat down on Ron's bed together, taking it all in.

Ron was the first one to break the ice, turning to me with his trademarked Texan smile and saying, "Shee-it, little buddy, I guess you can give a good blowjob!".

We spent the rest of the afternoon laying around on R & R's beds, listening to the rain and thunder and talking about what had happened. Dave provided our suite-mates with an abbreviated version of his theory about Texas machismo. I saw Rocco kind of nodding his head at that, but it seemed to blow right past Ron, who never said a word about sucking David's cock, though he was very enthusiastic about my "tight pussy". Ron and Rocco didn't say anything specific about rimming either, though Ron did mention several times that with the two of us "working on him" at the same time, it was the best blowjob he'd ever experienced.

As the sun started to go down and the storm passed, Ron got sort of serious and laid out his own unique theory about what this might mean. It was a stupid theory, of course, but it had its charms.

In a nutshell, he believed that men -- or at least Texan men -- had a tremendous natural need for sex, but that all women wanted was to get married, have children and get men to spend money on them. This causes a problem for men, according to Ron, and makes them very frustrated. So if it were possible, in his opinion, for a man to "get his clock cleaned" on a regular basis without all of the "muss and fuss" involved in trying to get "a filly" into bed, then life would be less frustrating and men could pay more attention to women's emotional needs. Essentially, he was a very horny guy. His theory was that maybe Dave and I could deliver him from having to waste time seducing so many women if we were to agree to blow him on regular basis.

On that note, we went our separate ways for the evening. Ron and Rocco had a Lancers meeting. Dave and I went to dinner at Mario's on the west side for enchiladas mole and guacamole.

The next morning I was brushing my teeth when Ron came into the bathroom wearing a robe. He gave me a big backslap and some good Texan cheer, then proceeded to the john and took a big pee. He waited for me to finish rinsing. I could see in the mirror that he hadn't bothered to tie up his robe after peeing and was pumping his pecker up into a stiffie.

"How 'bout it, good buddy?" was all he said.

What the hell, I thought, and sucked him off right there in the bath room.

As he was about to leave, I grabbed him around the tummy and said "Wait a minute, Ron, I've got some frustrations too, you know."

By this time, I had a hard-on. He grinned and drawled, "Wail, I can see that."

He grabbed my cock, gave it good squeeze and looked at me for a while, thinking it over, all the while fondling my cock kind of like it was a new toy. He tenderly touched the big hickie he'd left on my neck the previous day, then went down on me just like that, slurping away with quite a bit of enthusiasm until I came.

After we were done I crawled into bed with Dave, who was just waking up, and I told him what had happened. He gave me a quizzical look and yawned. We figured maybe Ron would get over this soon. But we were both amused that he'd agreed so quickly to reciprocate. Could he be gay? Naah!

A little while later Dave got up and went to the bath room. I was still lazing around in bed, reading a book. I heard the shower and didn't think much of it when Dave was in there longer than usual.

When he finally came out, it was his turn to crawl into bed with me and tell me something interesting, "I just fucked Rocco in the shower!".

We both had a fit of the giggles. It seemed that our cowboys were roaming all over the range this morning.

The next morning it was Dave's turn to get propositioned by Ron in the bath room for a blow job. This time Ron made it clear up front that he'd "do" Dave as well. And sure enough, once I was in there and had the shower running, Rocco came and poked his head inside the shower curtain, asking if I "wanted some company". I let him fuck me.

For the rest of the week, each morning brought some combination of the same type of bath room encounters, with Ronnie giving and receiving blow jobs and Rocco enthusiastically taking it up the ass or fucking one of us.

On Saturday morning, developments took an interesting turn. This was the day before the next Lancers social event. That morning I'd convinced Ronnie to sixty-nine on the bathroom floor instead of the usual exchange of favors. This position had not occurred to him before and he was full of good cheer at his new discovery. I was pleased because I got a closer look at his cute butt, which I was starting to develop some plans to explore.

In another deviation from our new "routine" that morning, Dave convinced Rocco to come into our room to let Dave suck him off while I screwed him. Rocco seemed to appreciate being double-teamed, as he hung around for a while in our room and then jerked himself off while we chatted, leaving a big cum stain poor David's clean sheets.

After breakfast (and the usual run to the laundry room) Dave and I were tidying up the place when there was a shy knock on the door. This was the door to the balcony/walkway, not the bath room door, so we knew it wasn't R or R.

It turned out to be Peter Nelson, the guy who'd been dumped by Nancy from bio-chem. Peter was also in the Lancers, but he didn't play soccer and we only had a nodding acquaintance with him. Peter was a nice-looking guy -- one of those kind of short, cute Texans who look like they really do ride horses now and then when they're young, but will eventually probably marry a girl named Tricia and develop a beer gut while watching endless football games on TV.

He asked if he could come in and we said sure.

Peter seemed a little nervous as he launched into a shaggy-dog story about how Nancy had broken up with him and how the Lancers social was coming up the next day, where he hoped to "bag" a "nice filly". Afer beating around the bush for quite a while, he finally wrapped up by saying he'd heard we might be able to help him deal with some "frustrations" he'd been having lately.

At that, Dave just pushed him down on the bed, yanked his pants off, and went to town on his cock.

It was all getting to be a bit too weird for me, so I decided to go for a walk. As I opened the door to slip out, there was another guy standing there just about to knock. I'd never seen him before, but I must say I was impressed. This was another typical Texan type -- the football hulk, this one of the blonde Adonis variety.

"Howdy," he said, "ah'm Bubba Lofgrin. Ah'm a friend a Ronnie Duvall's? He said ah miyt be able ta talk ta y'all about some frustrayshuns ah bin havin?"

I pulled him into the dorm room and pushed him down onto the other bed. Dave was not only still busy sucking off Peter, he also had a couple of fingers pumping in and out of Peter's butt hole.

Bubba was a real good ol' boy and didn't seem fazed by this. He just started pulling his clothes off. I was even more impressed. I told Bubba to sit back and relax. He was soon sporting a hard-on about the size of a fire hose. Not too long after that I was bouncing up and down on top of it, trying to see how much of it I could get up my ass without being split in two.

As Peter and Bubba were leaving, both of them promising to recommend our services to "the guys", I saw my friend Mike from philosophy class coming up the walkway. We hadn't had any more three-ways with him after he'd seduced us that one night, but we were still friends and I liked to listen to him talk about Ralph Waldo Emerson, William James and other Boston philosophers. In some odd way it made me feel a little bit like being back East, plus he was just cute a bug.

He waited until Peter and Bubba were gone and then came up and demanded in his best vamp tone, "And just what have you two shrinking violets been doing -- or should I say who have you been doing? Tell your evil auntie everything!"

Not only did we tell him what was going on, but we enlisted him into the conspiracy.

The rest of Saturday and on into Sunday we had a steady stream of Lancers sneaking into our dorm room for help with their "frustrations". We even dragged Ron's mattress into our room so there'd be enough beds for all three of us.

Most of the Lancers were classic Texan white boys -- well built and in all different shapes and sizes. Some just wanted a blow job. Some wanted to fuck us. Most of them ended up with our fingers up their butts at one point or another. And a few -- who apparently read Hustler rather than Playboy, go figger! -- were willing to get fucked as well.

There was one guy, a football hulk type and apparently the Lancers token Black member, who wanted it all. First, he fucked Michael's butt while Dave fucked his and he sucked on my dick. Then we kept switching around until he'd fucked and sucked off all three of us. That's what I call a team player!

By the time the social got underway on Sunday evening, most of the Lancers had had their "clocks cleaned" and we were three very tired, sore, but happy, queens. The room was a mess and smelled to high heaven of cum. We decided to make Ron and Rocco clean it up, so we left them a note and went and spent that night and the next morning in Mike's room. We were too tired to fuck any more, but we had a great time coming up with all sorts of wild schemes we could now use to get the Lancers to do favors for us.

Monday was a holiday in San Antonio -- Cinco de Mayo -- so we went out for brunch together and then headed back to our dorm room around Noon, saying good-bye to Mike, who had to go the library to do some research on Chauncey Wright, the Cambridge (Masssachusetts) Socrates.

We were pleasantly surprised to find our room all neat and cleaned up. We knocked on the door to R & R's suite from the bath room and then barged on in, intending to start in on them for turning us into whores -- though of course we'd actually enjoyed the weekend orgy quite a bit.

And there was Rocco with his legs in the air and Ronnie wriggling around with his cock deep into Rocco's butt, nibbling on his tits. Seemed neither one of them had "scored" at the Lancers social and they still had a few frustrations of their own to work out.

It was my turn to shout "Hooo-whee!".

David and I instantly grasped that our adventures with Rocco and Ronnie might be coming to an end, now that they'd discovered they didn't need us any more. Naked in a flash, we didn't waste any time.

I shoved my nose between Ronnie's ass cheeks, rimming him out for all I was worth. Meanwhile, Dave settled that bubble butt I'd come to know and love so well right down over Rocco's head and instructed him to get to work.

Once I had Ron all slurpy, I loosened him up some more with my fingers. This elicited enough "Boy Howdy!"s and "Shee-its!" that I knew this cowboy was ready to ride. By the time I had my dick up Ron's ass, Rocco and Dave had switched positions. Now Rocco was sucking on Ron's energizer bunny of a dick while Dave was banging away on Rocco's hungry hole. Dave and I came at the same time. We locked our lips in a passionate kiss while launching our loads into those Lancers.

We left Ron and Rocco there with our cum dripping out of their asses and went back to our happy home.

There were no more homo-Lancer orgies that semester, at least not any to which we were invited.

Rocco's father died towards the end of the semester. For the week that he was gone, Ronnie became a regular part of our morning libations once again, although this time around he seemed to prefer having one of us fuck him in the ass while the other one sucked him off.

Mikie eventually fell in love with a Positivist and they spent many happy hours together arguing about Hegel. I don't know what ever happened to Nancy from bio-chem.

I lost my scholarship and had to transfer to a state collge in Austin the next year. Dave and I visited every weekend for the first year, but eventually we started to see each other less and less often.

I finally came out of the closet in a big way and got involved in all sorts of political stuff, making lots of new friends in the process. David was still more or less in the closet -- despite having done nearly every member of the biggest male social club on campus -- and finally he told me that he'd met someone else. I met the guy -- a Physics major from from a place called Bhavnagar in the Indian province of Gujarat, nice guy.

There were no tears. It was just one of those things.

We wrote each other occasionally for a few years, then it was just Christmas cards. Years later, after the AIDS crisis hit, we talked on the phone a few times about how lucky we were that we hadn't been infected that year. I learned that Ron married a girl named Tricia and they live in some little town in East Texas with their brood of kids. Rocco eventually moved to San Francisco.

I'll always remember David, our kama sutra nights, and our wild weekend as the dorm sluts for the Lancers Club in San Antonio.

You could truthfully say that maybe I was little bit sexually repressed as a teenager, but I think I managed to make up for it all right... dontcha know?