Real Thanksgiving With Hot Young Stud

Terry sat on the edge of the bed, feeling both sorry for and pleased with himself. Here it was, Tuesday afternoon before Thanksgiving, everybody else was packing up, heading home to a fantastic holiday, and he was stuck in Oxford, Mississippi, with nothing better to do than watch blurred cable television, and count the tiles in the ceiling of his dorm room. It would be boring alright, but it sure as Hell beat the idea of going home for the holidays and getting caught in the middle of World War III.

When both your parents are prominent surgeons with a busy schedule and demanding practice, it's bad enough. But when they decide it's time to split the sheets after 23 years of married life, and each of them focuses all their energies on proving he (or she) is right and good and she (or he) is wrong and truly an asshole, there's not enough tea in China to make it worth a trip home. Terry had had to go to the dean's office to get special permission to stay in the dorm over the holiday, and all Hell had broken loose when he told his dad (and later, separately, his mother) that he wouldn't be home. But it beat the shit out of constantly being pressured to take sides in an argument he knew little about and certainly couldn't understand. Neither of his parents claimed that the other had been sleeping around, and as far as he could tell, nothing was any different now than it had been all his life.

"Well, shit, forget it, and get this stink washed off," he muttered to himself as he got up to get a shower. He'd had a good run this afternoon, but he'd been sitting in his room for about an hour, mulling the situation, and he was starting to smell a little "ripe." He started shucking his running clothes, glancing over at his image in the full length mirror his vain roommate had hung on the back of the door. Standing there wearing nothing but a running brief that showed his ass, cock, and balls as clearly as if they'd been transparent, he knew why he drew the admiring glances of so many girls. He'd had more than a few tell him how sexy his ass was, and he was proud of the well-muscled, slightly rounded twin globes that stood apart in that sexy way. The only problem was he wasn't interested in the girl's glances, and outside of a couple of furtive blow jobs from middle-aged accountant-types at the local bookstore, he'd never attracted any other attention. "Wouldn't it be great if you got the same attention from Stan, or some of his friends?" he thought to himself, the visions of his sexy roommate adding to the bulge in his running brief. One thing about it, Stan might be an asshole, but he was a sexy asshole, he thought to himself as he shucked the brief and turned to look in the mirror as he gently worked his dick.

"It's not as long as Stan's," he thought to himself, as he stared at the hot young stud in the mirror, "but it's definitely fatter, and it looks better too." Not quite 7" long, it was ramrod straight when fully hard, poking straight out, with a widely flared, mushroom shaped head. He'd been circumcised at birth, but the surgeon was obviously tired, because he'd left enough skin to cover about half the head when Terry was soft, and enough to add an interesting bulge behind the crown when he was hard. His balls were average in size, but hung really low in an almost hairless sac, accenting the cock in just the right way. Combine that with a sexy ass, a 5'11" body devoid of fat and with enough muscle to look manly without looking like a gym freak, and Terry knew he was way ahead of a lot of guys. "But if I'm so far ahead, why is it that I beat off alone, night after night?" He shook his head, wrapped his towel around himself, realizing that the mostly hard cock would show when he walked out in the hall, but since nobody was around, what difference did it make?

He walked down the hall to the empty shower, hung his towel on the hook, and was soon enjoying the feel of the hot spray running over his body. As he washed himself, his thoughts returned to Stan, and to guys in general. Almost without realizing it, the soaping he was giving his dick and balls turned into light, easy, masturbation, his cock jumping to about 3/4 hardness in no time. He'd almost decided to beat his meat right there when he heard the hall door open, and someone else enter the foyer to the shower. Terry thumped his cock hard, hurting himself, but forcing that dick down out of sight, wondering who in the Hell could be showing up at such an inopportune time. In about a minute, a guy Terry knew only as Steve walked in and took the shower across the way. Steve seemed nice enough, but was pretty much a loner, and Terry had never learned much except his name, and that he was a history major. He'd never seen him in the shower before, and that was clearly Terry's loss. Even in November, Steve's body was still deeply tanned, the stark whiteness of his hot-looking ass providing stark contrast. Terry couldn't tell much about the guy's dick, but he knew it was long, because when Steve spread his feet far apart he could see the head of what was obviously a long tool swinging between his legs.

"Enough of this shit, guy, you're gonna wind up with a hard on in the shower," Terry thought to himself as he hurriedly shampooed his hair. When he rinsed out the shampoo and opened his eyes, Steve had turned to face him, letting the hot water run over his back, and Terry got the first look at that gorgeous cock. It had to be 5, maybe 5 1/2 inches soft, and Terry's imagination was running wild dreaming what it would look like hard, how it might feel if he could just suck it. His own dick was back as big as it was gonna get before it got stiff, and Terry first started to leave, then decided to turn off the hot water, let the cold water hide his "problem" and stay for a quick view.

"I thought I'd be the only one in the dorm over the holidays from what the dean said," Terry said, putting on one of his best "just one of the guys smiles" as he stared at Steve's hot, slightly hairy chest.

"Well, the dean doesn't exactly know I'm here, and I hope you'll keep it that way," Steve said, each word uttered deliberately and slowly as though somebody was charging him by the syllable.

"Sure, man, that's cool. Only reason I'm here is my folks are in the middle of a divorce, and I didn't want to get caught in the shit," Terry said as he turned off the shower and headed toward the drying room. Steve was right behind him. As they began to towel off, Steve continued his reluctant articulation. "My folks moved to Minnesota last summer, and I can't afford to fly home this week, then again in just 2 1/2 weeks. I didn't tell the dean I was staying for the holiday because they don't know I'd have far to go, and I want to keep it like that, so I don't get nailed for out of state tuition," he said. Steve had finished drying off, and had masked the objects of Terry's desire with a worn, but effective, white towel that prominently read "Property of Holiday Inn."

"I'll see ya around," Terry said as Steve headed to the door. "Sure," Steve muttered as he walked out, in a way that was neither friendly nor unfriendly, but made it clear that the conversation had ended.

Terry headed back to the room, got out his favorite fuck mag, and flipped through the cum-stained pages as he slowly, deliciously beat his meat and dreamed of what it would be like to suck that gorgeous hunk of dick attached to Steve's midsection. He was in no particular hurry to shoot, but when he started playing with his nips, caressing his balls, and rubbing the crack of his ass, it seemed only seconds before thick, hot wads of man goo spewed out of his joyful cock onto his belly. Terry lay there lazily for a minute, then wiped some of the cum up on his finger, and licked it off. It tasted neither good nor bad, but it was sexy to pretend that one day -- hopefully before long, he'd be eating another man's hot cum instead of his own.

Suddenly, Terry realized he was hungry, and he got up, wiped himself clean with a rag he kept under the mattress just for that purpose, and hurriedly dressed and brushed his hair. He'd made it downstairs and was headed toward the door when he heard cursing coming from the vending room, and the sound of a well-placed vicious kick rocking the offending machine. He stepped over to the doorway, and looked in to see Steve so mad his face was the color of a fire engine. "What's the matter, guy?" he asked, surprised that the loss of fifty cents could piss a guy off that badly.

"Every eating place close to campus is closed for the holiday, so I've got to rely on microwave shit to eat and these cokes to drink. Looks like there won't be any Coke drinking," Steve said, still clearly pissed.

"Hey I'm on my way over to the Cracker Barrel to get a bite to eat, you want to come with me?"

There was a brief hesitation, a look of indecision, and then Steve said, "Yeah, sure, maybe getting away from here will do me good."

The ten minute ride to the Cracker Barrel was silent, and Terry made no effort to change it. Clearly, something was bugging Steve, and he figured it was none of his business. The same silence was broken only occasionally as they ate, mostly with comments about sports, the sort of litany that passes for conversation between two guys who really don't know each other. After they'd eaten, and paid, and made about half the trip back to campus in the same non- committal silence, Steve's mood changed slightly and he began to be a little more -- but only a little more -- talkative.

Terry figured any company was better than none, and was sorry when they walked in the dorm, marking his return to solitude.

"If you can stand the blurs they call cable in Oxford, you're welcome to come to the room and watch TV," he said, expecting a "Thanks but no thanks" type answer.

"Yeah, I guess I could stop by a while, there's sure as shit nothing else to do," came the surprising response.

They settled in, Terry on his bed, Steve on Stan's, as they channel surfed through Cosby and three or four other shows. As the minutes and stupid sitcoms ticked off, so did Steve's guard, and after a while he seemed almost -- but not quite -- friendly. Terry glanced often toward Steve, checking out what little he could see, making sure the basket looked as good as he thought it would, noticing how Steve's eyes sparkled, how his hair shone, how his skin looked so supple, as he rattled on and on about football. After wearing out the sports subject, Terry turned to the other "old faithful:" girls. "You dating anyone special right now?"

"No, I'm not seeing anyone now," came the response.

"The facts, ma'am, just the facts," in Joe Friday's voice thundered through Terry's head, and he was laughing before he knew it, the incongruous combination of Dragnet and his own "queer" desires seeming hilarious to him. He didn't even realize he was laughing until Steve asked "What's so funny?" in a slightly pissed-off tone of voice.

"Oh, nothing, it's a private joke that it takes a warped sense of humor to understand," Terry covered. "It's probably the result of going without pussy so long," he added.

Steve didn't reply, except to ask Terry to change the channel. "I hope I didn't piss you off, I wasn't laughing at you because you're not getting any right now. God knows, it's been a long, long time since anybody besides Rosie Palm gave me any," Terry said, trying to restore the friendly atmosphere from a few minutes before.

"Look, let's just drop it, okay?" was Steve's only response.

"Hey man, that's cool. I just wanted you to know that I was in the same boat you were," Terry murmured, kicking himself for laughing in a way that was so easily misinterpreted.

Steve didn't say anything, he just got up and headed to the door. As he opened it and started out into the hall, Terry thought it was worth one more shot, "Look man, I know I pissed you off, but I really didn't mean to, and I'd tell you what I was laughing about, but it wouldn't make sense to somebody else. Give it a rest, guy."

Steve turned and looked at Terry, the emotion burning in his being clearly not anger, but one Terry couldn't identify. "Look, it always turns out like this. So I just as well go ahead and get it over with. I'm not getting any pussy right now, true enough. But the reason I'm not going out with anybody is the same reason you guys call me a "loner." It's because I would only date a guy. I'm gay, homo, queer as a three dollar bill. I don't advertise it, but be damned if I'll lie about it. I may die a virgin to anything but my own fist, but that's the way it is. So it's best if I go now," he almost yelled as he walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Terry was in a state of shock. "Here's another guy like me!" was singing in one part of his brain, while the other part was yelling "You can't let ANYBODY know."

After about 20 minutes of arguing with himself, Terry was shocked to realize he was walking down the hall toward Steve's room. It was almost like watching television as he watched his fist knock on the door, and it sounded like a replay over poor speakers as he heard his own voice asking Steve, "Can we talk?"

Somehow, some way, he managed to spit out the truth. "Look, I don't want you thinking I was judging you. I've had the hots for you ever since I saw you in the shower, and I just wanted you to know you aren't alone. If there's anything I can do to help you, let me know. I hope we can be friends, because it's bound to be tough for both of us."

It was childish and it was stupid, but Steve and Terry hugged one another and cried tears of relief for many minutes. Finally, somebody knew their darkest secret, and the ground hadn't opened up to swallow them into Hell. The silence was broken only by the sniffles until finally, Steve, pushed back from Terry and said, "Would you hold me?"

The two guys lay down on the bed, still fully clothed, drawing the other to himself tightly, shielding him from the world and reality for the time being. Their clothes seemed to evaporate, as they gently undressed one another, novice hands fumbling with a manhood other than their own, seeking to convey the pleasure they'd wanted all their lives. Finally, Terry felt himself roll on top of Steve, his hard cock pressed firmly against Steve's own rigid man meat, their balls grinding together, their tongues dueling.

After a few minutes of this intense, forbidden pleasure, Terry slithered down Steve's body, licking a trail from his lips to his neck, then down to his nipples, where he tongued and chewed and sucked until they took on the appearance of BB's. As his new-found partner groaned, he slid on down licking across the chest and upper stomach until he came to Steve's tight, tiny belly button, which he fucked back and forth with his tongue as Steve continued to cry out in pleasure. Finally, he worked up his nerve, slid down a little further and tentatively took the head of Steve's hot dick in his mouth.

It was all Terry had dreamed it would be and more, as he felt the spongy, resilient flesh of Steve's cockhead caress the velvety recesses of his mouth. At first, he gagged just a little, but he soon found a pace that allowed him to slide up and down on the upper portion of those hot 8 inches, while his hand slowly and gently stroked the bottom of the shaft. After a while, Steve's groans had almost changed to a scream of pleasure, as Terry explored the piss slit of this first cock with his tongue tip, and laved the sensitive underside of the dick with his ever-roving tongue. He could feel Steve's dick swelling and twitching as he rapidly approached orgasm, and Terry was determined to take more and more of that hot cock deep into himself. He changed the angle of his head slightly and forced more of the thick fuckmeat into his mouth, letting it bounce against the back of his throat one moment, then rubbing against the velvet of his jaws the next.

"I'm gonna cum," Steve yelled, pushing on Terry's head to force him away, but Terry was determined to finish this task he'd started and began to pump his head up and down furiously on that lovely dick as he worked Steve's balls with one hand and the base of his cock with the other. Terry couldn't get over how good it felt to suck another man. In only seconds, he felt Steve's hot spray in his mouth in such huge quantities that he was surprised, and small amounts escaped Terry's hungry mouth to run out around the edges of Steve's cock and dribble down his chin. He continued to suck, gently working that instrument of pleasure until finally, Steve was completely spent. Only then did he realize that his own dick had spewed its juice all over the bed and Steve's legs.

Steve was almost comatose in the after-throes of their pleasure. Terry just grinned, lay out on top of his new lover again, kissed him deep, feeding Steve droplets of his own cum as he whispered, "You know, if we practice, we might get pretty good at this."

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written by anonymous