My Dorm Buddy's Used Condoms and Stuff (Part 1)

(Part 1 from 1. Fiction.)

A few years ago I started college at the University of Iowa. Not knowing anyone else at the school, I decided to live in a dorm and get a roommate assigned by the school. Anyone would be fine, I thought. However, the University gave me Tony.

Never did I dream that our chance pairing by the housing office--a straight All-American wrestler on Iowa's NCAA championship team and me, a former high school baseball jock turned college nurd, who was now trying to avoid all sexuality==would result in the hottest sweatiest sex-action of my entire life. Sex so hot that I found myself craving things and doing things which in the light of day seemed impossible and disgusting. Things I knew I wouldn't do with anyone except Tony.

From my early teens on I knew I was gay. But I wasn't out of the closet. I had a few male/male encounters at my high school in South Beloit, Illinois, but nothing that amounted to much and nothing that outted me. I was a starter on the baseball team, playing third base, and I ran some track at Our Lady Queen of Peace High. It was a lot of fun and helped me make plenty of friends. But, like most teenage guys, I almost always had sex on the brain.

My regular athletic activities blessed me with a handsome, naturally-muscled physique. Very masculine for my young age. My Polish farm-boy genes didn't hurt my looks either. Because of both, I always detected a certain amount of interest in me mostly coming from female classmates. Mostly, but not entirely.

Being gay and naked with about twenty other guys four or five days a week inevitably leads to some curiosity and sexual experimentation. Mostly for me and my jock buddies it was mutual jack-off stuff, with some cocksucking and ass-tonguing thrown in from time to time. But we really didn't know what we were doing.


That sexual play, however, made one thing clear to me. I wanted cock, not pussy. Hot, wet, sweaty, juicy man-sex. No doubt about it. I was queer and I accepted it. I also knew that I had to be low-key and quiet when I pursued it.

I always looked forward to stripping-down in the locker room and showering with these studs. I liked being naked and seeing other guys naked, too. I especially liked to watch those who strutted around in their jocks, or wearing nothing on at all, sporting dicks that were half-hard and starting to dribble pre-cum. A few furtively glanced at, and admired, each others newly-matured manhood, trying to hide the desire that gleamed in their eyes and fell off their tongues as the breath quickened. The more some of them bragged about pussy and the stink-finger they got last night from their girlfriends, the more their cocks would bulge and ooze.

Sometimes late, after everyone else was gone, I would go to a dark, hidden area of that jock sanctuary and beat my cock raw thinking about these hot young fuckers and what I had just seen. The place would smell great, too. Steam and stud-sweat thickly hung in the air. My nostrils would fill with that wonderful, distinctive man-smell of stud-crotches. And sometimes, if I inhaled deeply, it almost seemed like my face was buried in their pubes. I imagined I was nuzzling-up against black crotch hair and a swollen, dripping log that was ready to explode.

And explode, I did. Time and time again. During those solo, forbidden jack-off sessions, cumming felt so good I thought my teeth were going to come out my prick. The skin under the head of my cock got rubbed-raw from the relentless stroking. Each and every day I thought of virtually nothing but jock cock and cum. I couldn't help myself. I fantasized about playing baseball and taking the field with my face covered in jizz from all eight of my teammates. I imagined playing the whole game, cum-soaked and dripping. My face totally spermed. Everyone--my fellow jocks, teachers, parents, other students--would stare at me and know what had happened, know what all that goo was. They qouls know what I did. They would know I was nothing more than a sperm-loving dick-pig.

However, all of this was out of mind and behind when I began my freshman year. I wanted to crack the books and graduate with honors. I didn't plan to go out for any sports or do anything else that would distract me. I would be focused. Coming out was going to have to wait. There would be plenty of time for sex and socializing after I graduated. The constant beating-off and obsession with cock that consumed me in high school had to stop. There was no room for that here.

I thought I had myself convinced. Then in walked Tony.

(to be continued)

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