*** Author's Warning: I've never written anything that's published anywhere before. I've read A LOT of Literotica stories and it took a lot of nerve to just write something on here. This story is a bit of an extended fantasy about what I wanted to happen at a very specific time in my life, but names and details have been changed to protect the innocent. Thanks for reading!!! Any and all feedback is quite welcome!!!***
I knew I was a little too drunk when I realized I couldn't quite remember where I lived. It was a late fall evening as I stumbled through the darkened streets of my college town hoping to somehow navigate my way back home. After a long night at the bars I'd gotten into, yet another, fight with my bitchy girlfriend and all I wanted to do was get home, smoke some weed and pass the fuck out.
My house was a little ways off campus and the lack of street lights and my general drunkeneness was making the navigation a bit difficult, to say the least. My college was located in the rural midwest in a small town. Most of the houses I passed featured thumping bass and more than a few revelers scattered on front porches amongst red solo cups, strewn about beer cans and the occasional beer pong table. My house was located about a half mile from the main campus so as I ventured out the number of house parties I passed began to thin.
As I continued my journey I cursed myself for choosing the cheaper housing options further away from campus. I also cursed my decision to stay with such a bitchy girlfriend. My girl Samantha was decently hot, but also such a stuck up bitch. I was beginning to think she was kind of frigid. For the entirety of our relationship we rarely fooled around. When we did it was only because she was wasted. I won't lie though, when she got drunk and in the mood it was pretty hot. She could be quite uninhibited. Problem was, 80% of the time when she was drunk it meant she was angry so we'd just get into some dumb fight. If she was sober, the best I could hope for was a lame handjob. Tonight fell into that 80% range and we'd spent the latter half of the evening arguing over some dumb shit until I said fuck it and sauntered off for home. I made a mental note to watch the new shemale hypnosis vid i was into after I smoked.
I guess it's pretty cheesy to say, but I considered myself 100% straight. Up until the events of this evening I'd never been with a guy, never thought about being with a guy and was pretty happy with the offerings of the female sex. My current GF situation had driven me to lots of jerking off though and as any guy who's done a lot of self-love knows, after awhile plain old porn had lost its luster. I'd begun to get into shemale porn and if I'm being honest with myself I was more interested in imagining what it would be like to be one of those sexy shemales getting fucked. I can't say I'd ever looked at a dude and thought, "damn, that guy's hot!" I had, however, started to at least fantasize about cock a bit. Though, most of this bubbled in my subconscious...until tonight at least.
As I stumbled farther off campus the houses became more quiet and the streets more dark. I was about 5 minutes from my house, lost in drunken thought, when I heard someone shout, "Hey!"
Given everything that I've read, this is the part of the story where I'm supposed to describe myself in some detail. I was a pretty normal college guy I suppose, but a bit on the tall side. Around 6'2", but pretty skinny. I was never what you'd describe as an alpha-male. Too timid I suppose.
I looked over and a sort of shorter guy, around 5'8" was standing on a darkened porch. He looked about my age wearing a polo shirt with a popped collar and some cargo shorts. To me he looked like your typical state college douchebag.
"Hey," I shouted back somewhat noncommitally as I kept walking at a fairly brisk pace.
"What's going on, man? You coming back from the bars," he asked.
"Uh yeah, just trying to get home, smoke some bud and pass out. Have a great night," I shouted while trying to pass on by.
At this point he came jogging down his porch. I was slightly alarmed by this as I didn't really know what he wanted and I suddenly felt a little vulnerable all alone on an unknown street confronted by this random stranger. Despite my misgivings, my need to be polite caused me to stop and turn around.
"Hey man, just seeing what you're getting up to tonight. I've seen you around the neighborhood," he offered as he approached.
"Oh, nothing much. Just had kind of a shitty night out. I'm just headed home," I replied.
He stuck his hand out for a shake and said, "I'm Mark, by the way."
"I'm Mike. I live just up the next block," I replied sticking my hand out to meet his.
He grabbed my hand, a little too tightly I thought and stared a little too deeply into my eyes.
"Want to hang out at my place... and maybe smoke a little? My roommates are still out and I hate smoking alone," he offered.
I did the quick mental math of any good college pothead considering the meager amount left in the baggie back home against the potential danger of smoking with a random stranger...and decided it was a decent idea.
"Uhhh, sure. I hate smoking alone too," I replied. This was pretty much a lie as I smoked alone almost every night.
"Great!" Mark replied, not breaking our handshake as he turned around and sort of led me back to his place. I thought it was a little bit odd, but he held my hand as we walked back up the sidewalk to his house. He finally broke his hold as we walked up the steps to his porch and through the front door. The place was your typical college house, white christmas lights were hung in the living room, standard decor. The coffee table in front of a fairly massive flat screen tv was covered with miscellaneous beer cans and a few weed leaves and a grinder.
"We should probably smoke in my room, if that's ok with you," Mark asked.
"Ummm, sure I guess," I replied.
Mark must have noticed my hesitance at this and said, "It's just if my roommates get home while we're smoking you know they'll want to get in on the action"
