*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
*****
Chapter 1
Richard Ignatius Pennington, Rip as he called himself, checked the card, and then checked the door number.
413; freshmen got the fourth floor of the dormitory. Sophomores got the third floor, juniors were on the second floor, and the seniors got the ground floor. The senior's floor only had three tenants and the five tenants of the junior floor were clamoring that they should be allowed to occupy the ground floor as well; there were eleven rooms unoccupied, after all.
But the Administration of Harvester's College, in their infinite wisdom, decided that everyone was assigned. And everyone would just stay put.
Richard knocked, then tried the knob and found the door unlocked.
"Hey," a tall, muscular young man smiled from his bunk, taking the ear buds out of his ears. "Sorry; didn't hear you knock; how you doing? You Richard, right?"
"Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm Richard, but my friends call me Rip," Rip said, shaking the offered hand.
The handsome young man, clad only in nylon shorts, grabbed Rip's heavy trunk and pulled it over to Rip's bunk, with no effort at all.
"Doug," the young man said. "Doug Percy. Where you from?"
"Paulton, Louisiana," Rip said as Doug pointed to the chest of drawers. "It's this itty bitty place out of..."
"I'm from Lowenburg, Arkansas; I know exactly where Paulton is," Doug smiled widely.
"Yo, Dougie; you ready?" another muscular young man called out and slammed the door open.
"Yeah, Brucie," Doug said back. "Let me just get a shirt on."
"Hey, I'm Bruce," the second young man said, offering a hand to Rip.
"Rip," Doug said. "Get this; he's from Paulton; about thirty miles south of where I'm from."
"Poor bastard," Bruce smiled. "Come on, Robin Hood."
"Whatever, Trier Fuck, I mean, Friar Tuck," Doug smiled as he pulled a compound bow and a quiver of arrows from the closet.
"Where are y'all going with those?" Rip asked, noticing that Bruce also had a bow and quiver over his shoulder.
"Archery range; come on," Doug invited.
"So, why you into that?" Rip asked as he had to jog to keep up with Doug and Bruce's long stride.
"Two reasons," Doug said as they opened the door to the building. "One, it's good for upper body strength and two, I'm good at it."
"I'd say 'okay at it,' I wouldn't say 'good,'" Bruce teased.
Within minutes of starting, Rip saw that Doug and Bruce were both very good at archery.
"Here, give it a try," Doug invited.
Rip took the offered bow and arrow. Doug stepped up behind Rip, put his arms around Rip and showed Rip how to notch the arrow and pull the string back.
"And..." Doug said into Rip's ear.
The arrow flew wide of the target, but if Bruce or Doug were upset about it, they didn't show it.
"Should have seen my first time," Bruce smiled. "People were screaming, jumping out of the way."
"Hmm, so nothing's changed?" Doug teased.
"Aw, your ass, bitch," Bruce laughed.
"Come on; you like pizza? There's a great little place two blocks from here; Jack's," Doug invited as he and Bruce finished getting their arrows and putting them back into their quivers.
Again, the five foot eight Rip had to jog to keep up with the two six foot four inch boys' long strides.
"Like your hair, dude," Doug admitted as Rip pulled his long blonde hair out of the ponytail.
"Yeah, had mine almost as long as yours," Bruce said. "Coach took one look and said 'I need football players, not girls. Cut it or you're cut.'"
Bruce was a tall, muscular blonde, Nordic as Rip's mother would have termed him and Doug was a dark haired brown eyed swarthy skinned youth. Both young men were handsome and did attract the attention of many of the young female patrons of the restaurant.
Rip, with his pasty complexion, and doughy build, was used to being ignored, looked over and it did not affect his good mood.
When it came time for the bill, Doug refused to let Rip pay for his portion.
"Take it, Dude; tight ass over there never pays for me," Bruce advised.
"Aw your ass," Doug laughed. "Last week? Them brownies?"
"Huh, oh, oh yeah, you're right, I'm wrong," Bruce freely admitted.
"Glad we got that settled," Doug said.
"Dude, that you or... Whew, oh man, I do need the shower," Doug said as they walked back to campus.
"Back at the room, Rip set about putting his things away while Doug and Bruce availed themselves of the community showers.
That was one of the reasons the Juniors were clamoring to move down one floor; the Seniors had private baths with each room.
"Yeah, yeah, bought a ten pack of them," Doug said as he and Bruce entered the room.
Doug took off his towel and draped it over the rail at the end of his bunk.
Rip stared, open mouthed at the long, thick cock that hung down. Fully flaccid, Doug's cock was nearly the same size as Rip's cock when Rip was fully erect.
Bruce's robe had slipped open and Rip saw that Bruce's cock was as long and as thick as Doug's, but Bruce still possessed a foreskin on his long member.
"And, oh, there's black and blue; here, take one of each," Doug said, pulling two ball point pens out of his desk drawer.
"Thanks, man; Rip, catch you later, huh?" Bruce said and left.
"oops, Dude, sorry; just that, you know? Shower with forty, fifty guys all the time, just don't even think about walking around naked," Doug apologized as Rip continued to stare at the fat cock and large balls that dangled down.
"Huh? Uh, uh, no, no, Dude, it's cool, I mean, shit, we're all guys here, right?" Rip stammered as Doug pulled a pair of nylon shorts on.
Rip gathered up his own shower things, got directions to the room from Doug and went down the hall.
First things first," he thought and ducked into a toilet stall.
A few strokes of his throbbing erection and he squirted a man-sized load into the commode.
The pudgy young man took a shower cubicle and made quick work of rinsing the day's sweat off.
Re-entering his room, he found Doug stretched out on his bunk, ear buds in his ears, listening to music. Rip looked and could see the head of Doug's cock sticking out the leg of his shorts.
He found his own IPod and lay down to listen to his own tunes.
"So what you listening to?" Doug loudly asked, noticing that Rip was in the room.
"Blake Shelton," Rip said.
"Who? Oh, oh, Country, right?" Doug said.
