Matt didn't see either Perry or Jocko through the next week, which permitted him to get into the rhythm of school. He had received a second letter from Dashad, and he fully intended to answer the letters soon, letting Dashad know he was settling in and that he missed Dashad—but not telling him, of course, what missing Dashad had made him do with Jocko—and maybe would lead him to do with half of the black players on the UVa football team. He was a little curious on why Dashad's letters talked to him and told him he was missed all without Dashad saying much about what he was doing.
The fourth weekend in September, the polo team had a match with Georgetown University up in Washington, D.C., and Perry decided to go home to Loudon County for a long weekend. He took Sean Campbell with him.
That was the last weekend that Matt was able to devote entirely to his studies—so much so that he didn't even work in time to write a letter to Dashad. He hadn't seen Perry or Jocko, but he felt like one or both of them would be taking up a lot more of his time sometime soon. And as it turned out, Jocko turned up before Perry did.
Virginia won its home football game with North Carolina State that Saturday afternoon. When Matt got back to the dorm from eating at the cafeteria, wolfing his food down as he poured over his textbooks, he received a cell phone call.
"There's a victory party at the DU house tonight. You're invited. Bring rubbers." Although he didn't identify himself, Matt knew it was Jocko. He wasn't given time to answer that of course he wouldn't be there, that he had to study. Jocko hung up on him without giving him a chance to reply.
When Matt arrived at DU house, the party was in full swing. If it was invitation only, there was no sign that anyone was checking invites. Matt wandered through to the dining room, which featured a bar going down the long side of it. There he found Jocko, leaning into a bar stool and loudly reliving key plays from the football game earlier in the day with several of his fraternity brothers. Several of the guys around him were other blacks on the football team, including LeRoy, who gave Matt a leer when Matt appeared. Jocko apparently had made several key plays and he was in celebration mode.
When at last Jocko saw Matt standing there, all he said was, "Did you bring rubbers?"
Matt, who had been determined to go to Alderman Library when he left his dorm room and who had just kept on walking past it and across Main Street at the Rotunda and into the fraternity section, pulled the handful of packets out of his pocket to show them to Jocko—because he, of course, had brought them and of course had known where he really was headed when he left his dorm.
Jocko fucked him on a window seat in the fraternity house's living room, amid the chaos of the victory revelers, most of whom were too busy debauching themselves to watch the black giant crouched between the white guy's thighs, the white guy's legs waving in the air and his back wedged against an eight-paned window, as the black football player, plump buttocks muscles contracting and expanding, balled him hard and deep.
"You're my inspiration and reward goal for the next game," Jocko whispered in Matt's ear when he'd cum inside the rubber deep in Matt's channel. "If we win I get to fuck you that night—or whatever night we get back from a road game victory."
Matt was still gasping and groaning too hard to reply, and, yes, he noticed that Jocko wasn't asking for permission, he was just flatly telling Matt what he was due. Matt wasn't surprised, though. Jocks were so privileged in universities that they just took whatever they wanted, as by right. And others let them do it.
Matt knew he'd let Jocko do it too—but not for the reasons people would think. Not because Jocko was a football star who could command whatever he wanted on the campus or because he was an overpowering black man demanding fear and respect, but because Jocko's size and technique brought Dashad to mind. Matt missed Dashad's fucking. When Jocko fucked him, it almost was like being back in southwest Virginia in Dashad's arms. Both men were thick and could reach deep, and both men knew how to give pleasure as they were getting it with strong, vigorous strokes that set a steady rhythm, but also provided occasional off-rhythm surprises that made Matt jerk and gasp in pleasured surprise.
As Jocko was finishing up, Matt could see LeRoy peering over his shoulder, and a couple of other black guys as well.
"He's all yours for now. I may want him again later," Jocko said as he straightened up and spun back into the milling crowd in the room. With a laugh, LeRoy pulled Matt up out of the window well and slung him over his shoulder. The other black guys trailed along behind him, all joking with dirty talk of what they were going to do with Matt and arguing the order they were going to take among themselves—obviously trying to scare the shit out of their prey for the night—as LeRoy mounted the stairs to the second floor, jostling Matt over his heavily muscled shoulder as if he weighed nothing at all.
They put Matt on a string. Five or six big, bruising black guys gang fucked him, one after the other after LeRoy took the first cocking on one of the beds in an upstairs bedroom. Matt had the presence of mind to note, with irony, that he could see through to another bedroom across the hall, where white guys were standing in line to have their turn with a black girl.
LeRoy was the most brutal of the lot, pushing Matt on the small of his back, directing a black hulk to stand on either side and lift and spread his legs out, lifting his buttocks up in the air to the level of LeRoy's pelvis and each supporting one of Matt's butt cheeks with a broad, callused palm. During this process Matt had tried to raise his head and chest, but LeRoy had backhand him across the cheeks twice, snapping his head back and forth, and Matt had fallen back on the bed, thumping his head on the wall as he went down. He was dazed through much of the first fuck, except for when LeRoy started jerking on his cock and balls as he reared back and thrust forward, laughing at the little cry Matt gave with each brutal, deep thrust.
The black teammates apparently expected LeRoy's treatment to take all the energy out of Matt and for him to just lay there, semiconscous as the rest used him and got their rocks off. But they were surprised—pleasantly, for the most part—that he stayed with each one and moved and revolved his hips as each one took him, squeezing his channel on their dicks—of various sizes and curves, but all respectable—whispered encouragement and expressions of pleasure to each, and gave each one an extra good time. Matt realized that, starting with the one after LeRoy, they had arranged themselves in ascending cock size, so that he was increasingly filled and internally challenged as they came to the last, biggest one of all.
The second was a puncher and prodder, wanting to bunch his fists and give Matt little jabs to the chest and torso—not too hard but hard enough to make Matt gasp and grunt with each jab. It was a muffled sound, though, as LeRoy was at his head, making him clean his cock off with his mouth. The next men turned him on his belly and took him from behind, a couple needing no more body contact other than the connection of hole and cock. One of these was a biter, though, covering Matt close from behind and latching onto the side of his neck with his teeth.
When they were done with the first round, they left Matt panting and moaning while they argued on a reordering and possible use of new positions for the next round. One kept saying they should get beer and drive him out to the lakeside and do him again there on the banks of the lake and maybe leave him naked to make his own way back. This was vetoed by a couple of others who said that Matt had been so good that they'd want to keep him on the string for future sessions. Another, more solicitously, asked Matt if he wanted a bottle of water, which he accepted gratefully, and then that guy, obviously one of the meatiest defensive guards on the team, sat beside Matt and glided his hands over his body sootheningly. Matt responded by turning toward him and taking the man's only averaged-length, but thick cock in his mouth and sucking gently on the bulb. The big bruiser whispered to Matt that he'd like to be with him one on one sometime off the string—that he could show Matt a real good time.
As if Matt wasn't already having a real good time.
