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19 Temmuz 2023, 15:17
Thanksgiving break was the following week. There was a weird energy on campus, a merger of the smug self-satisfaction of those who had kept up with their course work and the simmering panic of those who had not. I landed somewhere between the two extremes, doing well in classes that interested me, and just 'ok' in those that did not speak to my academic mojo.
Macro econ ended with Dr Atherton warning us about the legendary rigor of his final exam. I was doing well, and smiled at the worried faces this stern reminder engendered in some of the loutish frat bros. The looming specter of Atherton's final hung over the room.
I always sat up front, fully engaged. "Thank you Dr Atherton. I hope you enjoy the break next week." He nodded.
"Likewise, Mr. Ravenel. Always a pleasure to have you in my class." I had learned quickly how to work these guys, just as I had done with my HS faculty.
I pointedly did not look around for Griffin. He had been friendly since our hectic-horny swapping of head in the library mens room some weeks ago, not bringing up our hot drooling toilet stall man sex. I played it equally cool, with a poker face that kept my pretty good hand hidden. I slyly noticed him around campus and had my ears on alert for any Griff gossip. His frank and knowing glance sometimes held mine, and would send me into a hot daydream quicksand of lust, confusion, curiosity, joy. I sensed that we were both playing a long game.
The hall thinned of students, and I leaned against the wall, mentally prioritizing what I should study that afternoon. "Hey Travis, wait up", that Alabama accent; I could feel his voice down to my 'taint. The scruffy letter jacket and killer jawline of dark stubble were now in front of me.
"Hey Griff, what's up? Where are you headed for Thanksgiving?" I asked casually.
"Home to Mobile. I wanna sleep late, chow down on mom's cooking, play golf with the dadster and the uncles, drink beer with the posse of jock dumb asses I went to HS with...where are you headed"? Be cool, I thought, be so cool.
"Sounds real nice. I am driving down to the family place in Richmond. They always put on a good spread. I have to get caught up on lots of reading for 20th Century American lit". Cool, so cool.
"Sweet. I hear 'ya on the reading; it is relentless. I like your jacket". He took his fingertips and lightly touched the epic softness of the lamb suede, the touch just a bit too long. "Very soft. Kinda' like the blond boy fuzz on your hot little ass". Cool, cool, be cool.
"Thanks. Gift from the step-momster. The jacket that is, not the blond boy fuzz on my hot little ass. Her unyielding good taste and weaponized generosity are two of her best qualities."
Griff laughed. "Nice. Looks good on you..." he lowered his voice and moved closer. "Listen, I just moved into my own apartment right off campus. Just a studio in Canal Place; no more roommates for moi, ever again!" My head reeled with implications, scenarios, consequences, shower scenes, Sunday mornings with the blinds closed late, shared hangovers and pizza.
"Whoa. Cool. Canal Place is kinda' pricey; can you afford it?" I stalled and deflected.
"No, I can't afford it. But my daddy can, and he wants me to have a good time here. No roommates means we can hang out. You could be my first guest in my new place. You wanna do that? Fly the magic futon?" No smiling now, just his dark eyed gaze meeting mine.
"Shit, You know I do, Griff". My cool gone, my hand played. I looked down and away, afraid for him to see just how badly I wanted him.
"Awesome! Tonight? Come by around 7p. Bring wine and some decent Thai food." Fuck around, Griff was as eager as I was. He wrote his address and number on the inside flap of my econ text in Sharpie, big and permanent and confident. "I gotta go; have two office hour meets on the other side of campus. 7p, cool?" Intentional Griff smile, no way out for me now.
"Hell yeah, 7p. I will so be there". He turned and trotted off towards the doors, head high, dark mane flowing back, jock ass in Levi's. Varsity shortstop. What the actual fuck was I doing?
I could not study. I could not nap. I walked around campus randomly as it got colder and darker. Back at the dorm room, I found the three bottles of rather decent Malbec I had lifted from dad and Vera's wine pantry on my last visit to Richmond.
My Sancaktepe Escort (https://sancaktepe.t2bro.net/) dorm situation was like a three bedroom garden apartment with common living area, full kitchen and shared bath. My roommates were a pair of Korean twins, both of whom were in the engineering school. They were quiet, studious, clean, sober, whip smart and intuitively cool. The quiet order and responsible calm of our pristine little dorm pod was fine with me, given the party crazed chaos some of our gooner braying neighbors lived in. They both liked to cook, and I would often front and fetch groceries so as to be included in their dinners, enjoyed at a properly set table. They were not home, and I left a note that I would be out late. They were politely incurious as to my personal life, and I rewarded them with a vague discretion, an unspoken arrangement that worked well for all.
I added a crew neck sweater and knit cap to the suede jacket, and headed to Saphire Thai, the Malbec in my backpack. Two take away orders of drunken noodles with chicken, two nam tok salads with extra slices of flank steak. Griff was gonna need his protein tonight.
Canal Place housed a mix of young-ish professionals and students who could front a lease for good digs off campus. Griff's flat was the ground level of a three floor end townhouse with a discreet private entrance on the side. Nice. I listened at the door; silence. I rang twice. Griff flung the door open, boxers and tee shirt, clearly just up from a nap.
"Trav! With FOOD! Fuck around! Get in here baby, I am starving! Did you find it OK?"
The fly of his boxers gaped open, and I got a sly hint at the dark fuzzy wonder of his manly crotch.
"Yeah. This is real nice." Windowless galley kitchen and bath at the front, one big square room at the back. Slider doors led out to a brick courtyard shared with the townhouse upstairs.
Futon on a base of stacked wooden pallets, unmade and clearly the site of a really good recent nap. A bag of expensive new golf clubs and two scruffy aluminum baseball bats. Battered Danish modern dinning table against a long wall used as a desk; laptop and desktop. Stacks of books. Didion, Updike, Burroughs, Canty. A used plaid sofa, ugly enough to clash with the whole world, was in front of a big flat panel on a solid shelf made of thick planks and fresh cinder blocks, the lower shelves also packed with books. Large flat top footlocker as a table. "The Birds" was on the TV in full mute, Tippi Hedren silently enjoying both her fur coat and her speeding Sunbeam roadster, headed for Bodega Bay and the studly Mitch Brenner.
"It is coming together, thanks to CraigsList and select dumpsters" he laughed. We unpacked the Thai take away in the narrow kitchen. I fished the wine from my backpack. He picked up a bottle and raised his dark eyebrows appreciatively. "This is good shit. Where?"
"I lifted it from the 'rents last time I was down there." He wielded a high end cork screw and some stemless wine glasses. He poured, we drank.
Eyebrows still raised, he looked me up and down. "Mmmm. Hot blond preppie boy brings me good wine stolen from the family manor. How did I get so lucky?"
Fuck all the way around. "Keep talkin' like that and you will get soooo very lucky tonight." He put his arms around me from behind, and ran his agile tongue slowly across the entire nape of my neck. Lust imploded my universe and all I could say was "Unnnnh!"
"Let's EAT already!" he clowned. Heaped Thai food on mismatched plates. Chop sticks from the take away bag. We wolfed the food like feral dogs, washed it down with the rest of the bottle. The movie was still silent on the screen; large crows were perching on playground equipment while Tippi Hedren stylishly smoked.
Griff kicked back on the sofa, sated, and let out a long slow deliberate belch. I laughed. "Very fine. Truly world class. Musical, yet manly." I said, sarcastically. Without asking, I went to the kitchen and uncorked bottle number two, brought it back to the foot locker, poured for us both. Eyebrows up, he looked pleased that I had quickly mastered his turf.
He went to the desk, found an ample jay, cheap roach clip and disposable lighter. No vaping gear or $600 bongs like the fake hipster wannabe stoners on campus. Apparently, weed was still weed on the sandy party roads and ball Escort Sancaktepe (https://sancaktepe.t2bro.net/) fields of southern Alabama, where young men with work roughened fingers mastered the delicate art of EZ-Wider roll ups. He lit up and took a huge hit. Exhaling his ample cloud, he offered me the joint, asking facetiously "you get high?"
"Does the Pope shit in the woods?" We laughed and I took and held an equally strapping hit, eager to show I was not some lightweight in a Lord it was frank, hungry, powerful.
"I wanna fuck you. I wanna rim you for days. I wanna make you cum hard with my dick inside you. I wanna see you spray ropes of jizz. I wanna cum inside you after getting you all the way off. I wanna have your ankles on my shoulders, still wearing those dirty white socks." he said evenly. His saying the words out loud with such cool sexual confidence made me instantly want his entire agenda, socks and all.
"Ah, yeah, cool, OK!" Good. I remembered how to speak. He did his fingertip touch jock magic on my ass, and I shivered again. I put my hands in his hair, not aggressive, just 'cuz I wanted to touch him. My cock fully in his mouth, he reached up and touched my scrot.
"Whoa, stop, I don't wanna cum too soon." He looked up at me, and wiped his mouth with the back of a seriously fearsome fist. "We can bareback if you want. I am on PREP."
"Cool. Me too." he grinned. "Vaseline for lube? Both old school and slutty?"
"Hell yeah, stud. Grease me up like a cheap sex toy. Get the shirt and boxers off. Leave the socks on." He complied and I got my turn to see him. Hairy from the waist down; ass, legs, balls, feet, crotch. Excellent starter treasure trail, up to his navel. Smooth above that; giving him a Satyr like quality. I was on the sofa where he had been, and he stepped closer offering himself to my touch. Splendid legs and ass, dusted with dark fur, built to run, all that baseball practice.
"Futon. Now." he ordered. I padded over to his unmade bed. He got the lube and a towel and joined me.
"Lay back for me, hands behind your head, legs spread. I wanna ramp you up. With my mouth." He did so, with a look of complicit wickedness. I hovered over him, giving long cat-like licks to his perfect flat nips, then I huffed clean young man scent in his hairy pits. I moved lower, kissing the broad smooth planes of his chest, flat brown belly. I went down for his balls, licking, tasting his ball scent. Cloves, garlic, earth, stables, rust, granite. I held his hard pudd loosely while my tongue explored balls and 'taint.
Then I took him in my mouth, all the way down and held him. "Oh, fuck, Trav, yeah, be my suck boy." He clasped both hands on the back of my head, guiding my pace and depth. "Whoa, stop, don't wanna cum."
He rolled me onto my back, kneeling, lubing his awesome cut cock in front of my face, his upward curve and girth behind the meaty glans suggesting a wicked hot fuck. A drool of pre-cum landed on my chest, and he licked me clean. Then going down on me, moaning, freely enjoying my 7.5" cut blond cock. His broad agile tongue was now aggressive with my balls and 'taint, still lightly stroking his own greased up cock.
"Put your legs back, grab your ankles." He reared up, his Satyr torso and horned cock in my sight line, and touched my asshole with his jock magic touches. His face in my ass now, he huffed my my scent and groaned. His tongue flicking the hole, then giving broad licks, prepping me to take his dick.
"UnnnnnhhhHHH!" was all I could articulate. I fucking loved getting tongued. While still face deep in my ass, he reached up and greased my dick, still licking my hole. I grabbed his wrist, slowing his strokes, not wanting to cum before he fucked me. He clearly enjoyed rimming, so secure in his masculinity he licked with eager abandon.
He came up for air, scooped up a gob of lube with two fingers and greased my pink boy hole, going in with two fingers, watching me intently for signs of pleasure or distress. "Put your ankles on my shoulders, close to my neck, Yeah, like that, Trav. Good boy." He moved closer to mount me, putting his thick blunt dickhead against my hole, and I relaxed. He went in, slowly, further, balls deep he stopped. The simple mass of him, and his torso covering me so close put me in the zone.
"Yeah! Fuck me! Use my hole! Make it HURT!" I shouted. Sancaktepe Escort Bayan (https://sancaktepe.t2bro.net/) Deep strokes, then he went about half in, hitting the magic spot. "Yeah, right there!! Do like that!!" He rose up and looked down, savoring the effect he was having on me, using his power to give me pleasure.
"Masturbate. I wanna see you cum. Yeah, go for it! Cum for me! Let it go!" His thrusting hard and fast brought me home and I shot hard, ropes of jizz everywhere, my chest, face, hair. I was writhing like a Hell demon to get more of his cock inside me.
"UnnnnnhhhH! Fuck, fuck, damn!!" He stroked slowly still inside, letting me come down. Then it was his turn to finish, and he pounded deep and hard, in full rut. I was impaled, his torso working above me, a hectic moving chaos of Griff, sheened with sweat, a Satyr storm. I put one palm against the wall behind my head, the other hand reached back to touch his scrunched up cum ready balls. The ball touches while he was fucking me pulled his trigger. He unloaded deep, low grunts, his long hair brushing my face. Slowing, coming down, he kissed me, deep, brutal, fierce. I yielded completely, letting him own me and all my shit. He pulled out slowly, wiped his dick and my asshole with the towel.
"Dahhhmnnnnn! You are a blinding hot fuck." I said. He smiled and looked down, suddenly shy with me.
"I guess I was inspired by your epic blond hotness. Was it too rough?" he asked, sprawling out next to me.
"Holy shit no. You were amazing."
"We need some water." he looked around.
"Yeah, you go, I think I have forgotten how to walk." He headed for the kitchen, at total ease with his nakedness, balls low, happy to be unloaded. He returned with two big bottles of Deer Park each. I gulped the water, hoping to stave off an icky red wine hangover. "Can I stay?"
"You had damn well better stay. I have spooning plans. You are my little spoon." He went right to it, I was completely enveloped from behind, he was nuzzling my nape. Safe in his arms, I dropped into deep drooling REM sleep.
Daylight woke me from my post fuck sex coma, and I had to PEE. I was all snuggled in covers and duvet, Griff was uncovered, sprawled full out on his back, fully erect. I was super quiet, bathroom and returning, he was still asleep and erect. I took some lube from the still open Vaseline jar, and slowly stroked his morning wood. His dick jumped in my hand, he still slept. I went down and licked his balls, still stroking. He was close, I could tell from his balls, he was coming, "unh unh unh", I stayed tongue to balls the whole time and I could hear his spumes of semen landing on his belly and chest. When I rose up, he was watching me and grinning.
"Where you awake the whole time?' I demanded.
"Yeah, pretty much. I was hoping you would do that. Awesome lubed handie with ball licking, BTW. Where'd you learn that?"
"In high school gym class. We were graded on it for extra credit."
He smiled and stretched. "We need coffee. There is only skim milk, none of that hazelwood flavored dick weed shit." He got up and headed naked to the kitchen, and banged around with coffee making stuff. He came back with two big mugs of excellent coffee, barely lightened with skim milk. "Good?"
"Very. Thank you. We need a shower, there is dried cum everywhere. Shower with me; I wanna wash you and see you all wet." There was a big walk in shower, tiled. We rinsed soaped and scrubbed off dried cum, washing each other, chests, balls, pits, dicks, assholes. There was bar soap that smelled like honey, and I washed him, he washed me. We washed our hair with the honey bar soap, his thick dark mane, my tight blond buzzcut.
Dried off, I went looking for my clothes, which were everywhere. He sat on the sofa, his Satyr regions wrapped in a huge white towel, loosely tied and low, watching me, on his second mug of joe.
"Shit. Where is my belt?"
"Look behind the foot locker. I will get you more coffee." He brought the mug to me as I dressed.
"You should always wear that towel." I said, leering, he smirked.
He sat on the sofa, and patted the seat next to him. "Sit down, Trav. I need to talk to you." I sat, sipping my mug. "Listen, I need tor you to be really discreet about all this." Gesturing his head toward the fucked over futon. "On campus, in town, we should be friendly like we've been since the afternoon in the library. We can hang out, fuck, get high, go places, whatever, but I just need everything to be really down low cool for me right now. I am on a bit of thin ice with the team, understand? Can you be super discreet for me?" His eyes were wet and shinning.
Macro econ ended with Dr Atherton warning us about the legendary rigor of his final exam. I was doing well, and smiled at the worried faces this stern reminder engendered in some of the loutish frat bros. The looming specter of Atherton's final hung over the room.
I always sat up front, fully engaged. "Thank you Dr Atherton. I hope you enjoy the break next week." He nodded.
"Likewise, Mr. Ravenel. Always a pleasure to have you in my class." I had learned quickly how to work these guys, just as I had done with my HS faculty.
I pointedly did not look around for Griffin. He had been friendly since our hectic-horny swapping of head in the library mens room some weeks ago, not bringing up our hot drooling toilet stall man sex. I played it equally cool, with a poker face that kept my pretty good hand hidden. I slyly noticed him around campus and had my ears on alert for any Griff gossip. His frank and knowing glance sometimes held mine, and would send me into a hot daydream quicksand of lust, confusion, curiosity, joy. I sensed that we were both playing a long game.
The hall thinned of students, and I leaned against the wall, mentally prioritizing what I should study that afternoon. "Hey Travis, wait up", that Alabama accent; I could feel his voice down to my 'taint. The scruffy letter jacket and killer jawline of dark stubble were now in front of me.
"Hey Griff, what's up? Where are you headed for Thanksgiving?" I asked casually.
"Home to Mobile. I wanna sleep late, chow down on mom's cooking, play golf with the dadster and the uncles, drink beer with the posse of jock dumb asses I went to HS with...where are you headed"? Be cool, I thought, be so cool.
"Sounds real nice. I am driving down to the family place in Richmond. They always put on a good spread. I have to get caught up on lots of reading for 20th Century American lit". Cool, so cool.
"Sweet. I hear 'ya on the reading; it is relentless. I like your jacket". He took his fingertips and lightly touched the epic softness of the lamb suede, the touch just a bit too long. "Very soft. Kinda' like the blond boy fuzz on your hot little ass". Cool, cool, be cool.
"Thanks. Gift from the step-momster. The jacket that is, not the blond boy fuzz on my hot little ass. Her unyielding good taste and weaponized generosity are two of her best qualities."
Griff laughed. "Nice. Looks good on you..." he lowered his voice and moved closer. "Listen, I just moved into my own apartment right off campus. Just a studio in Canal Place; no more roommates for moi, ever again!" My head reeled with implications, scenarios, consequences, shower scenes, Sunday mornings with the blinds closed late, shared hangovers and pizza.
"Whoa. Cool. Canal Place is kinda' pricey; can you afford it?" I stalled and deflected.
"No, I can't afford it. But my daddy can, and he wants me to have a good time here. No roommates means we can hang out. You could be my first guest in my new place. You wanna do that? Fly the magic futon?" No smiling now, just his dark eyed gaze meeting mine.
"Shit, You know I do, Griff". My cool gone, my hand played. I looked down and away, afraid for him to see just how badly I wanted him.
"Awesome! Tonight? Come by around 7p. Bring wine and some decent Thai food." Fuck around, Griff was as eager as I was. He wrote his address and number on the inside flap of my econ text in Sharpie, big and permanent and confident. "I gotta go; have two office hour meets on the other side of campus. 7p, cool?" Intentional Griff smile, no way out for me now.
"Hell yeah, 7p. I will so be there". He turned and trotted off towards the doors, head high, dark mane flowing back, jock ass in Levi's. Varsity shortstop. What the actual fuck was I doing?
I could not study. I could not nap. I walked around campus randomly as it got colder and darker. Back at the dorm room, I found the three bottles of rather decent Malbec I had lifted from dad and Vera's wine pantry on my last visit to Richmond.
My Sancaktepe Escort (https://sancaktepe.t2bro.net/) dorm situation was like a three bedroom garden apartment with common living area, full kitchen and shared bath. My roommates were a pair of Korean twins, both of whom were in the engineering school. They were quiet, studious, clean, sober, whip smart and intuitively cool. The quiet order and responsible calm of our pristine little dorm pod was fine with me, given the party crazed chaos some of our gooner braying neighbors lived in. They both liked to cook, and I would often front and fetch groceries so as to be included in their dinners, enjoyed at a properly set table. They were not home, and I left a note that I would be out late. They were politely incurious as to my personal life, and I rewarded them with a vague discretion, an unspoken arrangement that worked well for all.
I added a crew neck sweater and knit cap to the suede jacket, and headed to Saphire Thai, the Malbec in my backpack. Two take away orders of drunken noodles with chicken, two nam tok salads with extra slices of flank steak. Griff was gonna need his protein tonight.
Canal Place housed a mix of young-ish professionals and students who could front a lease for good digs off campus. Griff's flat was the ground level of a three floor end townhouse with a discreet private entrance on the side. Nice. I listened at the door; silence. I rang twice. Griff flung the door open, boxers and tee shirt, clearly just up from a nap.
"Trav! With FOOD! Fuck around! Get in here baby, I am starving! Did you find it OK?"
The fly of his boxers gaped open, and I got a sly hint at the dark fuzzy wonder of his manly crotch.
"Yeah. This is real nice." Windowless galley kitchen and bath at the front, one big square room at the back. Slider doors led out to a brick courtyard shared with the townhouse upstairs.
Futon on a base of stacked wooden pallets, unmade and clearly the site of a really good recent nap. A bag of expensive new golf clubs and two scruffy aluminum baseball bats. Battered Danish modern dinning table against a long wall used as a desk; laptop and desktop. Stacks of books. Didion, Updike, Burroughs, Canty. A used plaid sofa, ugly enough to clash with the whole world, was in front of a big flat panel on a solid shelf made of thick planks and fresh cinder blocks, the lower shelves also packed with books. Large flat top footlocker as a table. "The Birds" was on the TV in full mute, Tippi Hedren silently enjoying both her fur coat and her speeding Sunbeam roadster, headed for Bodega Bay and the studly Mitch Brenner.
"It is coming together, thanks to CraigsList and select dumpsters" he laughed. We unpacked the Thai take away in the narrow kitchen. I fished the wine from my backpack. He picked up a bottle and raised his dark eyebrows appreciatively. "This is good shit. Where?"
"I lifted it from the 'rents last time I was down there." He wielded a high end cork screw and some stemless wine glasses. He poured, we drank.
Eyebrows still raised, he looked me up and down. "Mmmm. Hot blond preppie boy brings me good wine stolen from the family manor. How did I get so lucky?"
Fuck all the way around. "Keep talkin' like that and you will get soooo very lucky tonight." He put his arms around me from behind, and ran his agile tongue slowly across the entire nape of my neck. Lust imploded my universe and all I could say was "Unnnnh!"
"Let's EAT already!" he clowned. Heaped Thai food on mismatched plates. Chop sticks from the take away bag. We wolfed the food like feral dogs, washed it down with the rest of the bottle. The movie was still silent on the screen; large crows were perching on playground equipment while Tippi Hedren stylishly smoked.
Griff kicked back on the sofa, sated, and let out a long slow deliberate belch. I laughed. "Very fine. Truly world class. Musical, yet manly." I said, sarcastically. Without asking, I went to the kitchen and uncorked bottle number two, brought it back to the foot locker, poured for us both. Eyebrows up, he looked pleased that I had quickly mastered his turf.
He went to the desk, found an ample jay, cheap roach clip and disposable lighter. No vaping gear or $600 bongs like the fake hipster wannabe stoners on campus. Apparently, weed was still weed on the sandy party roads and ball Escort Sancaktepe (https://sancaktepe.t2bro.net/) fields of southern Alabama, where young men with work roughened fingers mastered the delicate art of EZ-Wider roll ups. He lit up and took a huge hit. Exhaling his ample cloud, he offered me the joint, asking facetiously "you get high?"
"Does the Pope shit in the woods?" We laughed and I took and held an equally strapping hit, eager to show I was not some lightweight in a Lord it was frank, hungry, powerful.
"I wanna fuck you. I wanna rim you for days. I wanna make you cum hard with my dick inside you. I wanna see you spray ropes of jizz. I wanna cum inside you after getting you all the way off. I wanna have your ankles on my shoulders, still wearing those dirty white socks." he said evenly. His saying the words out loud with such cool sexual confidence made me instantly want his entire agenda, socks and all.
"Ah, yeah, cool, OK!" Good. I remembered how to speak. He did his fingertip touch jock magic on my ass, and I shivered again. I put my hands in his hair, not aggressive, just 'cuz I wanted to touch him. My cock fully in his mouth, he reached up and touched my scrot.
"Whoa, stop, I don't wanna cum too soon." He looked up at me, and wiped his mouth with the back of a seriously fearsome fist. "We can bareback if you want. I am on PREP."
"Cool. Me too." he grinned. "Vaseline for lube? Both old school and slutty?"
"Hell yeah, stud. Grease me up like a cheap sex toy. Get the shirt and boxers off. Leave the socks on." He complied and I got my turn to see him. Hairy from the waist down; ass, legs, balls, feet, crotch. Excellent starter treasure trail, up to his navel. Smooth above that; giving him a Satyr like quality. I was on the sofa where he had been, and he stepped closer offering himself to my touch. Splendid legs and ass, dusted with dark fur, built to run, all that baseball practice.
"Futon. Now." he ordered. I padded over to his unmade bed. He got the lube and a towel and joined me.
"Lay back for me, hands behind your head, legs spread. I wanna ramp you up. With my mouth." He did so, with a look of complicit wickedness. I hovered over him, giving long cat-like licks to his perfect flat nips, then I huffed clean young man scent in his hairy pits. I moved lower, kissing the broad smooth planes of his chest, flat brown belly. I went down for his balls, licking, tasting his ball scent. Cloves, garlic, earth, stables, rust, granite. I held his hard pudd loosely while my tongue explored balls and 'taint.
Then I took him in my mouth, all the way down and held him. "Oh, fuck, Trav, yeah, be my suck boy." He clasped both hands on the back of my head, guiding my pace and depth. "Whoa, stop, don't wanna cum."
He rolled me onto my back, kneeling, lubing his awesome cut cock in front of my face, his upward curve and girth behind the meaty glans suggesting a wicked hot fuck. A drool of pre-cum landed on my chest, and he licked me clean. Then going down on me, moaning, freely enjoying my 7.5" cut blond cock. His broad agile tongue was now aggressive with my balls and 'taint, still lightly stroking his own greased up cock.
"Put your legs back, grab your ankles." He reared up, his Satyr torso and horned cock in my sight line, and touched my asshole with his jock magic touches. His face in my ass now, he huffed my my scent and groaned. His tongue flicking the hole, then giving broad licks, prepping me to take his dick.
"UnnnnnhhhHHH!" was all I could articulate. I fucking loved getting tongued. While still face deep in my ass, he reached up and greased my dick, still licking my hole. I grabbed his wrist, slowing his strokes, not wanting to cum before he fucked me. He clearly enjoyed rimming, so secure in his masculinity he licked with eager abandon.
He came up for air, scooped up a gob of lube with two fingers and greased my pink boy hole, going in with two fingers, watching me intently for signs of pleasure or distress. "Put your ankles on my shoulders, close to my neck, Yeah, like that, Trav. Good boy." He moved closer to mount me, putting his thick blunt dickhead against my hole, and I relaxed. He went in, slowly, further, balls deep he stopped. The simple mass of him, and his torso covering me so close put me in the zone.
"Yeah! Fuck me! Use my hole! Make it HURT!" I shouted. Sancaktepe Escort Bayan (https://sancaktepe.t2bro.net/) Deep strokes, then he went about half in, hitting the magic spot. "Yeah, right there!! Do like that!!" He rose up and looked down, savoring the effect he was having on me, using his power to give me pleasure.
"Masturbate. I wanna see you cum. Yeah, go for it! Cum for me! Let it go!" His thrusting hard and fast brought me home and I shot hard, ropes of jizz everywhere, my chest, face, hair. I was writhing like a Hell demon to get more of his cock inside me.
"UnnnnnhhhH! Fuck, fuck, damn!!" He stroked slowly still inside, letting me come down. Then it was his turn to finish, and he pounded deep and hard, in full rut. I was impaled, his torso working above me, a hectic moving chaos of Griff, sheened with sweat, a Satyr storm. I put one palm against the wall behind my head, the other hand reached back to touch his scrunched up cum ready balls. The ball touches while he was fucking me pulled his trigger. He unloaded deep, low grunts, his long hair brushing my face. Slowing, coming down, he kissed me, deep, brutal, fierce. I yielded completely, letting him own me and all my shit. He pulled out slowly, wiped his dick and my asshole with the towel.
"Dahhhmnnnnn! You are a blinding hot fuck." I said. He smiled and looked down, suddenly shy with me.
"I guess I was inspired by your epic blond hotness. Was it too rough?" he asked, sprawling out next to me.
"Holy shit no. You were amazing."
"We need some water." he looked around.
"Yeah, you go, I think I have forgotten how to walk." He headed for the kitchen, at total ease with his nakedness, balls low, happy to be unloaded. He returned with two big bottles of Deer Park each. I gulped the water, hoping to stave off an icky red wine hangover. "Can I stay?"
"You had damn well better stay. I have spooning plans. You are my little spoon." He went right to it, I was completely enveloped from behind, he was nuzzling my nape. Safe in his arms, I dropped into deep drooling REM sleep.
Daylight woke me from my post fuck sex coma, and I had to PEE. I was all snuggled in covers and duvet, Griff was uncovered, sprawled full out on his back, fully erect. I was super quiet, bathroom and returning, he was still asleep and erect. I took some lube from the still open Vaseline jar, and slowly stroked his morning wood. His dick jumped in my hand, he still slept. I went down and licked his balls, still stroking. He was close, I could tell from his balls, he was coming, "unh unh unh", I stayed tongue to balls the whole time and I could hear his spumes of semen landing on his belly and chest. When I rose up, he was watching me and grinning.
"Where you awake the whole time?' I demanded.
"Yeah, pretty much. I was hoping you would do that. Awesome lubed handie with ball licking, BTW. Where'd you learn that?"
"In high school gym class. We were graded on it for extra credit."
He smiled and stretched. "We need coffee. There is only skim milk, none of that hazelwood flavored dick weed shit." He got up and headed naked to the kitchen, and banged around with coffee making stuff. He came back with two big mugs of excellent coffee, barely lightened with skim milk. "Good?"
"Very. Thank you. We need a shower, there is dried cum everywhere. Shower with me; I wanna wash you and see you all wet." There was a big walk in shower, tiled. We rinsed soaped and scrubbed off dried cum, washing each other, chests, balls, pits, dicks, assholes. There was bar soap that smelled like honey, and I washed him, he washed me. We washed our hair with the honey bar soap, his thick dark mane, my tight blond buzzcut.
Dried off, I went looking for my clothes, which were everywhere. He sat on the sofa, his Satyr regions wrapped in a huge white towel, loosely tied and low, watching me, on his second mug of joe.
"Shit. Where is my belt?"
"Look behind the foot locker. I will get you more coffee." He brought the mug to me as I dressed.
"You should always wear that towel." I said, leering, he smirked.
He sat on the sofa, and patted the seat next to him. "Sit down, Trav. I need to talk to you." I sat, sipping my mug. "Listen, I need tor you to be really discreet about all this." Gesturing his head toward the fucked over futon. "On campus, in town, we should be friendly like we've been since the afternoon in the library. We can hang out, fuck, get high, go places, whatever, but I just need everything to be really down low cool for me right now. I am on a bit of thin ice with the team, understand? Can you be super discreet for me?" His eyes were wet and shinning.