Shooting Load Into Mouth at Fraternity House

It was Saint Patrick's day. I had just turned 18 a few weeks before, and was still hopelessly a virgin. When my roommate Mike asked me if I wanted to go to the St. Patty's day party at his Fraternity house, I readily accepted, determined that tonight of all nights, I would hook up. Little did I know how right I was.

We walked the back woods route to the house that evening, cutting about 20 minutes off the normal trip, and arrived there around 8:00. Well, the party didn't really start until nine, but they had already tapped one of the kegs of green beer, so off we went to the bar room to get plowed. Mike disappeared early on, but I wasn't really paying much attention. By the time the party actually started I was on my fifth green beer, and was well on my way to a very profound drunk.

For such a small college, ours had it's share of beautiful women, and all of them showed up at this party. I scammed all night, but the farthest I got was leaning against a wall with this girl while we sang television theme songs. Defeated, I found a ride home with a friend who (miraculously) hadn't been drinking.

When I stumbled into my room, the clock read about 2:30. I stripped down to my purple bikini briefs (yea, I know, how quaint-- but that's what I was wearing, honest), threw on my robe and walked down to the bathroom to brush the old teeth and all. I finally fell down on my bed (going to sleep isn't the right word) about 3:00.

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Mike got home a little after 5:00. I knew this because he came crashing through the door like some sort of bull, falling down and swearing alot in the process. I rolled over and realized I wasn't under the covers, and still had my robe on. So I sat up as Mike changed into the shorts he wore to sleep in.

"Did you have a good time at the party?" he asked.

"Oh my god..." was all I could answer.

He laughed, then asked if I drank alot. Somehow I managed to hold up 15 fingers, laugh, and fall off the bed all at the same time. I sat up on the floor, and leaned my back against the bed, still giggling. My robe had pretty much come off during the fall and the following struggle to remove myself from the embarrassing horizontal position.

Mike reached down and snapped the waistband on my briefs, saying , "Nice underwear!" It was actually him who had gotten me into wearing bikini's. When I had come to college I had been purely a jockey man, but now . . . Mike looked at me and laid down on his bed-- let me tell you, I'd noticed Mike's body before, he was a good looking guy, but I had never noticed it like I did that night. He was small, only around 5'7" or so, but he jogged and excercized alot, so he was in great shape. His stomach was on the verge of washboard, and he was virtually hairless, except for that little happy trail of hair which leads down below the waistline from the navel. He had curly blond hair that hung down to just between his shoulder blades, stunning gray eyes, and two prominent canine teeth which made him look like one of the vampires in The Lost Boys. Needless to say, I really noticed this for the first time just then.

I turned to Mike, who was staring off into space, and said "Boy am I drunk!"

He laughed again, turning to look at me, and said "Really?"

"Mikey," I said, "I'm so drunk right now I'd probably even blow you if you asked."

"Do it." he said.

The small room was filled with a solid silence.

"Go ahead," he said, "Do it."

"Oh, yea, right." I said, a little nervous.

"Come on, Steve," he said, "Blow me."

"Oh, ok, Mike," I said, trying to pass it off as a joke, "Well, drop your shorts."

"No, you do it," he said.

By this time I was kneeling next to his bed. "What would you do if I just went like this?" I asked, grabbing the waistband of his shorts and pulling it down a ways, exposing his underwear, and (to my surprise) the head of his erect penis. I let go of his shorts as if they had burned me. Now I was really nervous.

"Do it," he said.

I took a deep breath. "Ok," I said, "lift up your hips."

He did, and I slid his shorts down to his ankles. Then I reached back up and did the same to his underwear, trying the whole time not to look at his crotch-- as if I could still get out of the situation if I hadn't laid eyes on IT yet. But finally there was nothing else I could do, and I turned my gaze back to my destination.

He had an average cock for a college freshman, it was about 6 inches long, not too fat. But what fascinate me about it was that instead of standing out from his body, it layed flat against his belly. Even with all the little "guy" sessions I'd had through puberty, I'd never seen one do that before.

"Come on," he said, "Blow me." He rolled onto his side and his dick was right in my face.

I turned my head and looked straight into his eyes. "I'm scared" I said. He didn't say anything, so I turned back, reached out, and before I could think about it I was sucking his dick. It wasn't that bad, except I kept running out of spit. So while I worked my salivary glands, I jacked him off, and occasionally he jacked himself off. I enjoyed watching that.

After the third time I had come up to work up some more spit he said to me, "Why don't you come up on the bed." So, stupid me tried to climb up between his legs and hunch over to suck his dick. "No, the other way," he said, so I put one knee on either side of his head and went back to work, this time paying a little more attention to his balls, which were very good sized and just had a few wild hairs on them.

Suddenly, I felt his hand on the waistband of my underwear. The next thing I knew, my dick was in his mouth and we were sixty-nining. The feeling was incrediable, and I went back to work with even more enthusiasm. Mike and I ended up blowing each other until well after the sun came up, and had many more sessions after that. Although we never talked about them except while they were happening. It was as if we were two totally different people at night. But I'll always remember shooting my first non-masturbatory load in his mouth.

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