Sex Drugs and Princeton

Dear Readers,

This is my first of many submissions in this series. We'll uncover more interesting moments during Brett and Travis's first year at school as the plot unfolds. Please stay tuned for more, and feel free to vote and/or contact me if you like the story.

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Brett felt sick to his stomach. He'd spent his last night at home partying with friends until 7am and arrived back at his mom's house with a few hours to spare for last minute packing before departing for freshman move-in day at Princeton. It was an unbearably hot day and he was sandwiched in the back seat of his stepdad's station wagon between a large trunk of his clothes and his stereo system. He always got car sick, and he was still slightly hungover, but he suspected the nausea had more to do with feeling anxious about moving to college.

Brett had never even visited Princeton before accepting their offer to attend. He was a bright kid from a public school on the outskirts of New York City. As the scenery along the New Jersey Turnpike and Route 1 turned from smokestacks to suburbs he couldn't fight the distinct feeling he'd made a huge mistake. He imagined the typical Princeton student to be a preppy, know-it-all geek. Brett himself, while being smart, cultivated a definite non-conformist image. He was about 6 foot 1 with spiked bleached hair, earrings in each ear, and a wardrobe of Goodwill steals that could best be described as eclectic, and at worst downright grungy. As much as he worked hard to look unique, what he didn't realize is that he didn't have to try hard to be eye-catching. He had piercing blue eyes, broad shoulders, scruffy face, furry chest, and a killer smile. Brett had mostly put together his unique look as a way to deflect attention from his terrifying secret: he was gay. He'd known it ever since he was 14 when he'd traded hand jobs with his best friend Wilson. Wilson was the only person who knew Brett was gay, and even though he was straight the two had remained very close friends. Before they'd left, Wilson had encouraged him to come out at school.

"What have you got to lose, man? It's a fresh start," Wilson encouraged.

"There's no way! That school full of stuffed shirts? I'd be an outcast immediately," Brett replied.

"I hate seeing you have to live a lie. I mean, what if you find someone that you want to... you know..." while Wilson was totally cool with Brett's sexuality he still sometimes winced at the thought of actually saying the words.

"Butt fuck?" Brett blurted out.

"Geez, B! Gimme a break!"

"Just kidding, man. I guess I'll deal with that when it comes up. Although, I doubt they even have gays at Princeton. I'll be the only one."

"I'm going to come visit you once you get settled in and get you laid, I promise it!"

"Alright. It's a deal. And I'll keep an eye out for hot chicks for you too." Not that Wilson needed much help. He was slightly shorter than Brett, one year younger, but with natural dirty blond hair, and a more muscular smooth body.

Brett smiled at the thought of his best friend's assurance that he'd get him laid at Princeton just as his stepdad's station wagon pulled up to the guard booth at the entrance to campus. The nausea became instantly worse. The next two hours were a blur of parking, unpacking, saying goodbye to his parents, and meeting two of his three new roommates. Van was a surprisingly laid back guy from Nashville who'd brought along an acoustic guitar and was going to host a radio show on the campus station. Charlie was a shy kid from rural upstate New York who was already in the pre-med program, on the football team, and was volunteering for campus ministry. Wasn't it the first day? How did these guys already fit in here? Brett would come to learn that so much about Princeton would be based on who you knew. These guys clearly knew the right people. They seemed nice and treated Brett with respect, but he wasn't sure he'd be fast friends with either of them and they seemed somewhat uncomfortable with his different outward appearance. They had arrived first and had claimed the larger bedroom for themselves. Brett retreated to his new smaller bedroom and started to unpack while he awaited the fourth mystery roommate.

As he started unloading his second hand wardrobe treasures into the closet he put on his new Radiohead album and tried to chill out. But his heart was racing and he still felt nauseated. He'd never felt more alone in his entire life. No one here would ever accept him for who he was, and he started planning his escape. He considered calling Wilson to come pick him up. He felt like he was going to hyperventilate when he heard someone shout, "Hey Radiohead!" It was coming from just outside his ground floor window. Brett went to the window and looked to see who'd called him without even knowing his name. A guy about his height with buzzed light brown hair, deep brown eyes, and a lean muscular frame stood just a few feet away on the grass outside the window. He was wearing board shorts and a white sleeveless T-shirt and Brett could see he had very big biceps and a small patch of trimmed hair under each arm.

"What's up?" Brett asked.

"This Holder Hall?" the stranger asked.

"Yeah, what number are you looking for?"

"32. How the heck did they number these entryways? You need a Princeton degree to figure it out." The stranger had a sense of humor. They both smiled and Brett felt something stir within him that he'd never felt before. He'd always known in theory that he was gay, but this was the first time he'd actually stood in front of a real live guy that was turning him on. Lost in this new heady emotion, Brett stood there for a few seconds soaking this all in before realizing that he must look like a total idiot standing there mute. Finally he responded, "This is our room. I mean, this is 32 Holder. I'm your roommate. There are two other guys here, but we're sharing this room." He realized he was rambling but added, "I'm Brett."

Luckily the stranger was nice, or nervous too, and offered, "Travis," with a head nod.

Brett extended a hand through the open window to shake Travis's but just then he realized that Travis had been holding a box of his stuff the whole time. That only made him seem stronger and even more masculine to Brett. The two exchanged an awkward laugh over not being able to shake hands and Brett said, "Here let me take that."

"Thanks!" Travis said as he handed Brett a box that felt like it was full of bricks. "Be careful, I've got a couple of weights in there."

"No prob. I can handle it," Brett lied.

"I'm just gonna run to the car and get some more of my stuff. Be back in a second."

Brett's head was swimming. He'd known he was going to share a room with a guy, but he just figured that guy would have been a total nerd. How was he going to room with Travis who was a total hunk? Over the next few hours the 4 new roommates got acquainted a bit more, headed to dinner at the dining hall, and did a little more unpacking in their room. Brett learned that Van's parents were divorced and very rich (which was why their common room was so well furnished). He learned that Charlie was perhaps the nicest guy he'd ever met (he'd never even had a drink before!) and that Travis was a brilliant kid who'd skipped a grade in high school, was only 17, had been captain of the swim team back home in rural Virginia, and was there on an ROTC scholarship. Brett wondered to himself, "Could this guy be more hot OR more straight?" As it started to get late everyone started to prepare for bed. Van and Charlie went into their room and Travis and Brett retired to theirs where it was decided that Travis would take the top bunk. He'd have to get up early many mornings for ROTC and having to leave the top bunk to turn off his alarm across the room would make certain that he'd not just hit snooze and fall back to sleep. Brett was so nervous about changing in front of Travis with his perfect body that he just took off his distressed jeans and quickly hopped into the bottom bunk in the t-shirt he'd worn all day and his boxers. Travis pulled off his shirt and shorts and stood in the center of the room in a heather gray pair of CK boxer briefs. Brett felt like he was going to explode. He couldn't decide whether to stare at Travis's beefy tanned calves and thighs covered in a thick mat of light brown fur, or the inviting bulge in the pouch of his CK's, or the perfectly formed round globes of his manly ass, or his well-sculpted torso with a little patch of hair between his small perfect nipples. Quickly Brett decided that it was probably safest not to stare at all and turned to face the wall as Travis said, "Good night, Brett."

"Good night, Travis."

"See you in the morning, bud."

Brett was in deep.

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Over the next few days there was a whirlwind of activity: orientation events, getting books, first classes, and getting lost among the idyllic, tree-lined walks at Princeton. Each building looked like a castle or a fortress or a Greek temple. Brett definitely wasn't in Kansas (or North Jersey) anymore. Meeting people had become so tiring. He had become accustomed to the Princeton equivalent of "name, rank, serial number" that started so many of the strained conversations among strangers forced to share a new space here. He'd repeatedly recited his name, hometown, dorm, and sadly that he was unaffiliated with a club or sport and that no one in his family had gone to Princeton. In fact, no one in his family had gone to college before and while this important fact was not lost on him, it seemed of little importance to the new people he met. His worst suspicions were correct: he just wouldn't fit in here. He'd always been relatively popular in high school. He took part in many activities, moved seamlessly among most of the cliques using his sense of humor and intelligence to win many friends. Here he was just one of many smart kids who'd been an overachiever in high school. He felt like a dime a dozen and was just weird-looking enough with his spiky hair and wacky clothes that many people preferred to keep their distance rather than get to know him.

"Wil, I can't stand it," Brett started yelling into the cordless phone, "I'm not gonna last a month. Everyone here is stuck up. They all think they're so damn special. I've got no friends and I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't fit in here. Come get me."

"Dude, chill out. It's gonna be fine," Wilson tried to calm him.

"Easy for you to say, you're still back home. I miss it there. I miss sneaking beers and hanging out down by the bay. I miss hopping the train into the city. I even miss the crazy lady who begs for change outside of ShopRite."

"She's been asking for you," Wilson tried humor.

"Shut up," Brett was hurting.

"Look. You've got to give it time, bro. You had 18 years to build a life here. You're not going to have all the pieces come together there in a few weeks or even months. It will get better everyday. And you know what?"

"Huh?" Brett put all the strength he had left into making that one syllable.

"We're all so fuckin' proud of you. No one from here ever gets a shot like this. We're lucky if we make it to "Harvard on the Boulevard" (their nickname for the county community college in a bad neighborhood in the next town over). Most of us can't even think about making it to Princeton. This is your shot."

This brought a reluctant smile to Brett's face. Wilson always had a way of making things seem better.

"I fuckin' love you, man." Brett said.

"Don't get any ideas. I told you, you're not jerking me off again." Wilson joked.

The two laughed, said their goodbyes and hung up.

Brett hadn't noticed that Travis had been sitting and reading right outside the bedroom window while he'd been on the phone with Wilson. He hadn't seen much of Travis since their first couple of days there. Travis was usually up and out early in the morning for ROTC and during the day their class schedules kept them out of the room. They really only met up back at the room when it was nearly time for bed.

"I couldn't help but hear." Travis said.

"What?" Brett said startled, as he looked out the window to see Travis.

"Your phone call. Why don't you let your guard down a bit? Let people in more?" Travis asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, you're pretty intimidating looking, that's all. Most people here have never seen anyone like you before. If you want to make friends you'll probably have to make the first move. Or at least be open to people when they approach you." Those were the most words Travis (or anyone for that matter) had said to him since he's arrived. Brett was floored.

"I dunno. I guess I feel like people should have to accept me for who I am. Why should I have to be the one to make the effort?"

"Look, I have tried getting to know you every day this week when we get back to the room after class. Every day you've pretended to be pretty busy. Or you've gotten on the phone with one of your friends from back home. I think you're a pretty cool guy from what I can tell. I'd like to be friends. You're probably the only other person I know here who also thinks that trying to make friends here sucks. You and I have more in common that you probably think." Brett searched his mind and realized that he might have been a little cool toward Travis since they'd met. He just didn't want to let him get too close. It was self preservation. He was crazy about this guy and didn't want to betray his own secret feelings.

"I'm sorry, Travis. I don't know what to say. Come on in and give me another chance?" Brett asked, realizing that Travis had a very unique gift of getting right to the heart of him in an incredibly fast way.

Travis came inside and they spent almost the entire night talking about everything imaginable: high school memories, how awful Princeton people were, and even some very personal subjects where they found they had common ground. Both of their dads had been alcoholics. Brett's had died when he was just 14 and Travis's had gotten sober when he was about that age. Despite their extremely different outward appearances, they even liked some of the same music. Travis had always wanted to bleach his hair but was afraid to do it. Brett confessed that while he loved the city he also loved visiting his dad's brother's family on their farm in rural Pennsylvania. Travis had grandparents who had an apartment in New York City and he'd spent some time exploring the city during summer vacations there. As the two laid in their respective beds, Travis out of sight in the bunk above him, Brett almost forgot what a total hunk his new roommate was and began to feel excitement build about his finding a new friend. Travis was right that they did have more in common than he'd thought.

Their talk turned to the subject of women and sex just before the first light of day started to creep into their bedroom. Brett had some limited experience with the ladies - just enough to throw people off the trail about his sexuality - but it sounded like Travis had quite a few sexual conquests back home. As Travis started sharing his sex stories, Brett's cock started to stiffen in his boxers just thinking about Travis sliding his cock into his girlfriend. He recalled seeing Travis's huge bulge on their first night together and he painted a picture in his mind's eye of his new friend's huge member standing proudly from his patch of light brown fur. While Travis made boasts about fucking his girlfriend while her parents were in the next room, Brett imagined what it would be like to have Travis fuck him while Van & Charlie were in the next room. Brett's cock was so hard that he had to free it from his underwear. He pulled his meat through the fly in the front of his shorts and felt a shock of excitement. He was no slouch in the cock department. He was just over 7 inches when hard with a big mushroom head and a thick vein running along the top side of the shaft. As Travis continued talking, Brett licked his palm and slowly, as quietly as possible started to work over his pole. The sensation felt amazing. He hadn't jerked himself off since he'd been at school and his body ached for release. Travis seemed to be on autopilot as he discussed titty-fucking this slutty girl who went to his brother's college. Brett would interject an, "Uh huh," every now and then to assure his buddy that he was still listening and keep the story going while still massaging his aching cock. By now he was as rock hard as he'd ever been before and his slit was leaking pre-cum like a faucet. He was trying to be still and quiet when he realized that the bunk bed that they shared was slightly rocking. Could it be? Was Travis working himself over, too? He noticed that Travis's breath had quickened and he was practically panting. This nearly sent Brett over the edge. He started thrusting his own hips now and the bed started to rock a little more. He was in heaven listening to the object of his desire talk about ramming his hard meat into a girl's pussy from behind. Hearing the urgency in his voice, and the way he added, "Oh yeah," to the end of some of his sentences Brett could tell Travis was enjoying himself too. Brett was fisting his cock know with total abandon. He didn't care if Travis or the guys next door or people across campus could hear him or not. He could feel Travis's thrusts from above and started to time his own thrusts to match his friend's. He'd never felt this amazing or this close to anyone before. Travis had moved on to talking about the time he had fucked two girls in one day when Brett felt his balls tighten and he started spewing his hot load all over his stomach, chest and even his chin. Two weeks worth of his man juice pumped out of him as wave after wave of ecstasy came over him. He thought he heard a moan come from Travis's lips above too at just about the same time that his own cock started to cum. Just seconds after the largest cum eruption he'd ever experienced had finished, Travis's alarm across the room went off. It was time for ROTC. "Shit!" Travis whispered, as he jumped from the top bunk with a thud and made his way across their room, now dimly lit by the first rays of sunlight to start the day. Brett quickly covered the mess he'd made with a sheet, now suddenly embarrassed by their act. He turned his head to see Travis's perfect body framed in the glow from the window. He looked like a chiseled statue. His boxer briefs were slightly askew and he could see just a glimpse of his friend's ass crack. As Travis turned away from the window, Brett saw through his boxer briefs that his friend's cock was still very hard as it strained against the thin layer of cotton. Seeing the silhouette of Travis's big sheathed boner, had Brett mesmerized. His recently spent and aching dick twitched again beneath his hastily placed sheet. Travis grabbed a pair of sweats off the floor, threw them on quickly, adjusted his cock so that his waistband held it close to his belly, and headed toward their bedroom door. "See you later, Brett," he said nonchalantly as he exited their room.

"Bye," Brett responded as the door was closing behind Travis.

He was left alone there with his thoughts, his head swimming with questions and excitement and fear. What if Travis figured out he was gay? What if the guys next door heard? Any thoughts about what this encounter would mean were quickly forgotten when Brett's cock stiffened again to full hardness. He knew he'd probably miss his first class today as his hand traveled down toward his meat. He wanted to savor this moment a little longer.