I was in my junior year of college at a large Midwestern university. Even though I had a steady girlfriend at the time and enjoyed off-the-charts sex two-to-three times a week, I increasingly found myself fantasizing about having sex with men. More specifically, how satisfying it would be to go down on another guy and swallow a huge load of cum, or get bent over a table or couch and get fucked until the guy emptied his load deep in my ass.
Of course, I never shared my fantasies with anyone, least of all my girlfriend, but over the course of our relationship, I increasingly began picturing myself on the receiving end of a hard fucking or deep throating a nice large cock. I just didn't know how to go about fulfilling my fantasies without risking being exposed and branded as "gay" and potentially losing my girlfriend, whom I loved completely.
As the fall semester began drawing to a close, I found myself struggling to balance school, work and my relationship with Amy. Being a sophomore, Amy still lived on campus in the dorms. I had moved off campus a year earlier to be closer to my job and to somewhat escape the party scene at school. Like most starving students, I couldn't afford an apartment on my own, so I shared a one-bedroom flat with a roommate, Greg, who paid one-third of the rent and slept in the living room on a futon. It wasn't the greatest arrangement in the world, but it seemed to work out okay since, like me, he spent the majority of his time on campus studying or working. He also had a girlfriend in a nearby town that he stayed with most weekends.
I remember the day like it was yesterday, and have often reflected back on it as a key turning point in my personal sexual evolution. I had just completed a 25-page term paper for my Microeconomics class and was ecstatic that it was over. It was probably the hardest and most boring class I had ever taken, and was, without a doubt, one that I was anxious to get through.
To celebrate, I cracked open a bottle of tequila and poured myself a tall shot, which I chased with a beer. Then I poured another. Just as I was downing my second shot, my phone rang. It was Amy. She wanted to know how the paper was coming along. I told her I had just finished it and was celebrating.
"Celebrating?" she giggled. "Are you alone?"
"Yeah," I responded. "Why do you want to come over and join me?" I asked jokingly, knowing that she couldn't because of her class schedule.
"I'd love to," she said. "But you know I can't. THAT will have to wait till Friday," she said again laughing. "If you can't wait, I'll understand if you 'take matters into your own hands.'" We were both laughing now.
"Oh... you mean THAT?" I said pretending to have just caught onto her meaning. "I was just talking about having a celebration beer."
"Yeah, right. I bet you were," she laughed. "Well, don't 'celebrate' too hard without me. You'd better save some for our date night Friday," she giggled. "Besides, don't you have to be at work in about an hour?"
Shit! I thought. She was right. I had forgotten that I had switched shifts. I glanced at the clock. Actually, I didn't need to be there for almost two hours, but I did need to jump in the shower and shave.
"You're right," I said. "Man, I'm glad you reminded me."
"That's what you have me for, silly," she said, still speaking in a playful tone. "At least that's ONE of the reasons you keep me around."
"Of course," I said. "Listen, I've got to get going. I'll give you a call in the morning."
"Okay," she said. "Go handle your business. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
As I went to put my cell phone back into my pocket, it was obvious that Amy's sexy innuendos had made me incredibly horny - and hard. I would have to take matters into my own hands, I thought, smiling. Not wanting to waste any time, I poured another shot, unbuttoned my pants and pulled my cock and balls free of my underwear. Once that was done, I opened a new tab on my browser. I immediately went to one of my favorite porn sites. It was actually a free portal site that allowed the viewer to choose from hundreds of different genres. It offered just about every fetish one could imagine - from BDSM to anal and everything in between.
While my right hand was busy scrolling through the categories, I slowly stroked my cock and played with my balls with my left. "Let's see, what sounds interesting today?" I asked myself. "Hmmmm. How about some good ol' anal porn," I thought as I clicked on the link.
One thing I particularly liked about that site was that it offered both straight and gay clips. I downed my last shot and quickly glanced down at the time. Only an hour to go. Shit, I had better make up my mind fast, I thought. Looking over the still images on the screen, my eye was drawn to one that showed a guy on his knees sucking the cock of a very muscular-looking jock. The caption below the image read: "Bareback... twink son gets bread by muscled dad." That ought to be hot, I thought, so I clicked the link.
Naturally, the video seemed to take forever to load. While it spooled, I took the opportunity to completely remove my shorts and grab a hand towel from the bathroom. I knew it wouldn't take me long to cum and I didn't want to shoot my load onto the desk, the computer chair or the floor.
The video opened with a scene that showed a partial side/back view of the older jock standing with the palms of his hands pressed against a wall. He was bent over slightly at the waist and his legs were spread wide apart. The younger guy was kneeling behind the older guy, alternately licking the muscle guy's ass deep throating his cock and sucking on his large balls. Although the ass-licking part wasn't much of a turn-on, the way the young guy expertly sucked the older man's cock certainly was. The older guy was well-hung and every time the young guy would put the older guy's cock in his mouth, the jock would bend his knees and force it down the younger guy's throat until the younger guy's face was buried in balls and ass.
I'd always fantasized about being sucked from behind, and that scene nearly put me over the edge.
The next scene had the younger guy on his knees in front of the older guy. The older guy was slowly face-fucking the younger guy, making sure to get every inch of his cock that he could down the younger guy's throat. As they played out the action on the screen, I was there with them in my mind - sometimes I was the older guy, but mostly, I saw myself as the twink.
The last scene, or at the last one for me before I blew my load, showed a close-up of the muscle guy working the head of his cock into the younger guy's upturned ass. I have to admit, the twink had a nice ass. It was perfectly heart-shaped. If it weren't for the long, thin cock attached to the tight set of balls hanging between his legs, you'd swear that ass belonged to a woman.
I came hard just as the jock was delivering his last few thrusts into the young man. As my orgasm poured out of me, the jock grabbed the twink hard at the waste and pumped his cum deep into to the guy's ass. The two remained locked like that until the jock had presumably expelled his entire load.
I didn't wait to see if there was a next scene. Glancing at the clock, I couldn't believe how much time had passed. Between the alcohol and porn, I had lost all sense of time and at that point, I had less than 40 minutes to shower, shave, get dressed and drive across town. Without thinking, I quickly jumped up, grabbed my clothes and hit the shower.
Amazingly, I got to work with five minutes to spare. Between the late-night spent working on my paper, the alcohol, shower and orgasm, and down-side adrenaline rush, I was beginning to feel tired - and my shift had yet to start. As a pick-me-up, I grabbed the strongest energy drink I could find and downed it as I was clocking-in.
"Glad to see you could make it in today, Will."
It was my store manager, Mr. Sweeny.
"Um, ok?" I said. "What, did you think I wasn't coming in?"
"No, I figured you'd be here. You're just usually here fifteen to twenty minutes early. Lighten up. I'm just busting your balls," Sweeny said with a chuckle. "Are you feeling okay? You seem kind of out of it."
"No... I mean, yeah, I'm fine," I said. "I'm just wiped out. I was up till nearly three working on a paper for my econ class."
"Good. Glad to hear it," he said.
Typical. He hadn't really heard a word I had said.
"By the way, your partner-in-crime decided to call in sick today. We've got one truck at the dock now waiting to be off-loaded, one more is idling in the back lot, and another is on its way. We didn't get any shipments because of the weather yesterday, so if you need to call the little lady and cancel any plans, now is the time to do it because you're going to be stuck here for at least the next eight, maybe ten hours."
"Really? Really?" I said under my breath. My day had just gone from pretty good to super shitty in an instant.
My partner-in-crime, as Mr. Sweeny referred to him, was my friend David. I first met Dave in an English class during my freshman semester. He had worked at the store since high school, and apparently his dad and Mr. Sweeny were old friends - they worked together at some meat packing plant years ago until the company went belly-up. Dave's dad got out of the food business entirely and started selling life insurance, while Mr. Sweeny stayed in the business, but went the retail route. Although Dave had a reputation for being somewhat of a slacker, Sweeny never came down hard on him because of his dad. And I did like Dave. He was pretty funny most of the time, and he could drink anyone I know under the table, but that day, he was at the top of my shit-list.
It was one of those days that seemed like it would never end. When I wasn't off-loading and breaking down pallets in the warehouse, I was stocking shelves. And when I wasn't doing that, I was covering for someone at one of the registers. It was so crazy that I worked through both of my rest breaks and my dinner break, even though I clocked in and out at the appropriate times so as not to risk being written up for unauthorized overtime.
I had always prided myself on being a hard worker, but there were times during that day it felt like I was the only employee in the entire supermarket. When I clocked out, I felt like I had run a marathon three times over. All I could think about was going home and going to bed. It was almost 4 a.m. and I was officially exhausted. Before heading out the door, I paused briefly at my locker to grab my phone and a bag of chips that I had stored there some 12 hours earlier. I checked my phone. I had four missed calls and at least 10 text messages from Amy - which wasn't all that unusual. What was unusual, though, was that I had three missed calls from my roommate Greg. Something must be up, I thought, because he rarely calls me.
Given the late (early) hour, I didn't want to call him back as he would almost assuredly be asleep. Then, as I was walking to my car in my zombie-like state, it hit me. I never turned off the computer or closed out the windows session from the day before. "Oh FUCK!" I thought. What if he came home and looked at the pages I had opened? Son of a bitch! I was almost sick to my stomach.
