True Fraternity Story Where Frat Bro Dan Sucks My Cock

I'd worked with Dan for almost a year and a half in an office on campus before we got to know each other. He'd had a bad semester earlier in the year, and had gotten a bad reputation for not coming in to work, which everyone just assumed meant he was a bad worker. So, when I was made supervisor of the students working in my area I was all ready to have to deal with a problem employee.

The first day of the semester Dan showed up right on time, and worked really hard-- harder, in fact, than most of the other students in the office. I was impressed as hell, and I think that's when I actually started "noticing" him. He was about five foot ten inches, maybe one sixty in weight. He was slim, but had broad shoulder for his build. His hair was wavy brown, and cut just short enough to make it sit right on the edge of being unruly. His hands were wide, and he had short fingers which had the nails bitten down pretty far. His eyes were a light gray with very dark rings around the iris. He was stunning. I was stunned.

As the semester progressed, we got to know each other better. We'd talk on break, or chat when the work run was slow (which wasn't very often), and I found out he was a brother at a fraternity which was just a few blocks down from mine. The problems he'd had the semester before were do to his becoming chair of one of the fraternity's philanthropies. They had had their best year ever, but his gpa had plummeted to near rock bottom.

I realized Dan was attractive for quite a while before I found out I was attracted to him. It was a goofy afternoon, and I happened to run into him in the bathroom. I was just washing up after lunch, and he was standing at one of the urinals. We said casual hey's, and I washed my hands. As I was getting ready to leave, when another of the students I supervised came in and nodded to me, then saw Dan at the urinal.

"Hey, Dan!" he yelled, "Whatcha got in your hand?"

The two of us by the sinks laughed, but Dan looked down, then looked back up at us, smiled, shrugged, and said, "Not much."

I don't know what it was about that, but I just got all silly inside.

A few weeks later (it just happened to be my birthday), we were both working the receptionist consoles, taking incoming calls, and the subject naturally turned to women (of all things). I happened to mention how I had gotten a call from a girl (so I said) who had seen me at a performance (I dance with a folk ensemble) and wanted to go out.

Dan asked what I was wearing at the time. I told him they were some rather tight Polish pants and a vest. He smiled broadly, nodded his head, and said, "Ahhh, so she just saw your package and wanted a little of it."

I blushed, and laughed "Yea, right."

"Things like that never happen to me," he said.

"Maybe you're not wearing your pants tight enough." I replied.

"No sense wearing 'em tight when there's not much package to display now, is there??" he laughed.

I smiled and went back to answering phone calls, feeling all silly again. I managed to sneak a glance at his package when he stood up once, but he dressed kinda preppy and wears the baggy jeans that leave a lot to the imagination. So I started imagining.

By the time the end of my shift came around, I was horny as hell. "When you off work?" I asked Dan.

"Not till 6:00," he replied, "Why?"

"I was going to go out for a quick drink for my birthday-- you want to come??"

"I have to work..." he said.

I scanned the schedule on the wall. There was adequate coverage for a rainy night, so I ran a pencil through his name on the schedule, then initaled it.

"No you're not." I said.

"You can't do that..." Dan said.

"Why not, I schedule everyone, I can unschedule them. You want to come?"

He had his jacket in his hand before I had finished the sentence. We grabbed our book bags and headed for downtown.

The bar was practically empty. Dan and I grabbed a table and the waitress came over looking like any other bimbo waitress. "What would you like?" She asked.

I was clueless about what I was in the mood for, but Dan ordered a Seven and Seven on the rocks. I asked the waitress for a suggestion for something sweet, and Dan chimed in.

"Try a Nuts and Berries, you'll love it. Ameretto, Chambourd and Cream."

I nodded to the waitress, and we sat back waiting for our drinks.

We filled the time with casual banter about the office, then, out of the blue, Dan asked:

"Do you smoke?"

I was confused. "Only when I'm really really drunk."

"No, do you smoke pot?" he asked.

"Why? Are you a Narc?" I joked.

"No, it's just something I like to know about people. You don't have to answer if you--"

"Yes," I responded, "I do, but it's been a while."

Dan smiled. It was then that the waitress brought our drinks. We paid, and she flittered away.

"I never thought I'd get high." Dan said after a few sips, "But my roommate came back from spring break last year with some really nice stuff, and I tried it. It was great! And no hangover, you've got to like that..."

I nodded and smiled, enjoying my drink (if you like sweet drinks, I highly recommend this one).

"Well," I said casually, "If one of us ever gets a hold of any, we'll have to call the other."

"Dude," he said with a big grin, "I've got this huge bud in my bedroom as we speak."

My smile grew even bigger.

"You up for it?" he asked. "It would make a great birthday gift for you."

I slammed the rest of my drink and simply said "Let's go."

Dan had a private room at the house. He held some fancy office this year (secretary or treasurer). His room was the typical preppy fraternity room. There was a bunk bed-- the top bunk was made, and the bottom wasn't. The couch was the typical brown on brown, three cushion plaid hide-a-bed. There were a few posters on the wall, and some pictures of his family on the desk.

He ushered me into the room and shut and locked the door, throwing a towel along the bottom of it. "If anyone smells this," he said, "they'll all want some..."

I sat myself down towards the end of the couch while Dan threw his bag on his bed. He pulled off the sweatshirt he was wearing, leaving the white tee shirt with the Top Ten Reasons to be an Accounting Major on. He kicked off his shoes and socks, and indicated I could do the same, so I did.

I stashed my bag by the end of the couch as he rummaged through his top dresser drawer. By the time I had turned back around, he had a good sized bong out, along with a plastic bag.

Grabbing a lighter off the desk, he moved to the couch and plopped himself down right beside me. He handed me the bong to hold (it was already filled with water), and fished into the plastic bag to pull out one of the biggest buds I'd seen since I spent a spring break at Daytona Beach.

The expression on my face must have been one of pure astonishment, because he laughed as he took the bong back and packed the tube expertly.

Holding the lighter out to me, he generously offered me the first hit, but I politely declined because I was still trying to figure out which holes needed closed with what fingers to make it work right.

Dan grabbed the folding chair from his desk, and set the bong on it, bending forward so his mouth reached the opening on the top. I leaned forward as well, but not before noticing that the back of his jeans were loose enough that I could see the white jockeys he had on underneath them.

I watched as he took his first hit, and mimicked his hold on the device as I took mine. Damn it was good stuff!! My throat and lungs were burning like crazy, but I fought the urge to exhale as long as I could, which happened to be a hell of a lot longer than Dan. I exhaled just as he finished his second hit.

While I went for another round (without giving myself much time to breathe between) Dan got up and put on some nice rhythmic Reggae. It's amazing how the sound of that style of music changes as you get stoned.

After another two or three rounds, we were both pretty stupid. I refused another round, so Dan eased the chair holding the bong away from the couch with his foot as I leaned back to relax into the music which was caressing my head.

All of the sudden, I felt something on my lap. Looking down took a while, but when I finally got there, I noticed Dan was spread out along the couch, and his legs were across my lap.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

"Hey," I said, "Your dope, your room, your couch..."

"Yea," was all he could say-- the two of us burst of laughing.

We just stayed there and listened to the music for a while. I took my hands out from behind my head and draped them across Dan's legs. I don't even think he noticed. It was about twenty minutes later (stoned time of course) that I noticed how close I was to Dan's crotch. My elbow was mear inches from his package. And since he was lying down, his jeans were pulled a little tighter than usual, and I could actually see some sort of mass behind the denim.

Then, out of the blue came, "See, it's not that big of a package."

I'd been caught. Oh shit. Flattery and stupidity get you out of a lot of things, but at the moment I was better suited for the latter so I said:

"Huh?"

"My package isn't that big. Weren't you looking at it?"

I wanted to say no, but instead said, "It's not all that small."

"I don't know," he said, genuinely contemplative. One of his hands snaked down and gripped the mass hiding there and squeezed. "It looks a lot smaller than yours."

"You're checking my package out?" I blurted, my cock giving a little pulse beneath his legs.

"Well, yea."

I didn't know what to say, so Dan swung his legs around and sat up.

"Look," he said, grabbing his crotch in one hand. "There's a lot less here than there is here." Then he cupped my crotch with the other hand. "Come on, feel them, you'll see."

I shrugged my shoulders and reached over to Dan's crotch and cupped it. I could feel the heat of his body beneath the denim. I gave it a gentle squeeze, and heard Dan sigh. I felt his cock twitch a little bit.

Looking up at his face, his head had fallen back and his eyes had closed. There was a smile on his face.

"But it's not soft that counts when it comes right down to it," I said, squeezing again and moving my hand in a little circle.

"Oh, Dude," he said.

I could feel his cock stiffening beneath my hand. He still had a grip on my iron rod, and squeezed it back. When I could definitely make out the difference between his cock and balls, a leaned over and nuzzled my face into his groin, wrapping my mouth over the tube of flesh that hid under the jeans.

I swung around so I was kneeling on the floor between Dan's knees. He was letting out little moans as his dick got harder.

He reached down and undid the buckle on his belt, then dropped his hands as I increased the pressure on his dick by using my teeth. I reached up and undid the buttons that made up the fly, and opened the two flaps of denim to reveal his snow white briefs. His cock was pointing downward and stretching the hell out of his underwear, so I reached up and swung it around so it pointed up at his belly, then went back to mouthing him through his unnerwear.

His hips lifted slightly, and I slid his jeans down around his ankles, and then started caressing the mass of testicles that were packed so tightly into those BVD's.

A wet spot appeared just below the waistband of his shorts. Accompanied by another series of moans. Again, his hips lifted, and I pulled his underwear down to join his jeans.

He was right, his cock wasn't very long, but it was really thick, and his balls were huge and hairless. His light brown bush stayed close to his cock, just letting a little trail escape up towards his navel. His cock bounced once, twice, then was standing straight up, pointing at my mouth. I went down on him in a fury of lips and tongue.

Reaching up with my other hand, I cupped his smooth balls. He started flexing his butt cheeks, making his hips rise to meet my descending mouth. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the faint scent of boy/man coming off of him.

His balls started creeping upwards, but they were so big they didn't have a lot of room to move. I slipped a finger behind them and massaged the underside of his groin. I felt him tense, and then tense again. All of the sudden he was almost spasming, and every time his hips thrust forward, he shot a load of semen into my mouth. When it was done, he shook for a few seconds longer, the spoke.

"That was intense man." I sighed. I was afraid he'd throw me out, but instead, he leaned forward and grabbed my shoulders, pushing me to the floor.

I had to swing to the right a little to avoid the chair, but I managed to lay down without too much trouble.

The next thing I knew, Dan was tearing at my belt, and unzipping my jeans. They were gone before I was really aware of it, and so were my boxers.

"You've got to experience this..." he said just before engulfing my cock. He was an expert dick sucker-- he took me all the way to the root on the first dive. His tongue caressed the underside of my shaft every time as he came up each time, and one hand fondled my balls while the other caressed the lines where my thighs joined my pelvis. It was incredible.

If you've never had paisley sex, I highly recommend it. The orgasm I had seemed to go on forever. I could count to five between pulses from my cock and I counted eight pulses of sperm getting shot down Dan's throat.

When it was over, I just laid on the floor, panting, feeling my dick soften. I opened my eyes, and Dan was staring at me. "See," he said, "You've got a hell of a lot more down there than I do!" Then he handed me the bong.

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written by anonymous