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Brat in the Frat  $.99

When Peter starts dating a jock named Brad from a fraternity at his college he soon learns of his boyfriend's kink and together they make a journey into submission and domination.

Brat in the Frat Ch 08 - The Dilemma

After he shared his secret with me it was like we both had the same secret.  And he started wearing diapers everyday.  A nod or a wink to me when we were together and we’d just smile.  His frat brothers would roll their eyes and Kevin would just grunt in frustration but it was for us, we knew.  That’s when we really started to go everywhere together and he dragged me to a few of his pick-up basketball games.  My favorite was knowing under the thin fabric of his shorts was a diaper, a diaper I had put on him.  I could tell he was conscious of it, especially when it was shirts vs. skins.  I held my breath during those games as I’m sure he did a little himself.

It’s difficult to explain that type of connection between two people, you just feel it.  We didn’t talk about the future much.  We didn’t talk about our past lives.  We lived to be together, to explore together.  We became so familiar around each other that our bodies seemed to melt into each other just being in the same room.  We’d sit next to each other and think nothing about an affirming touch, an arm around the shoulders as we sat on the couch, a hand on the thigh.  We were in love.

There are two types of people we all share secrets with, strangers and close loved ones.  To share a secret with a stranger is an unremarkable thing.  That’s the power of Confession in a Catholic Church, a dark closet area with a confidant able to hear you but not exactly see you.  Sometimes it’s someone on an airplane or bus we will never see again because of the way life works, space and time, the geography of where we live, where we are going, two lives that momentarily intersect.

Sharing a secret with a loved one, well that’s more difficult, because a person intends to keep that loved one close, wants to build a relationship, a future with that person.  And so many of our relationships are created for other reasons.  My parents got married because my mother got pregnant, so they had many secrets.  My grandparents got married because my grandmother wanted out of her life at home taking care of her younger siblings, many more secrets. 

I was quite conscious of this as we continued to date, to hang around each other, have certain expectations of each other about fulfilling roles.  We became like a balancing act offering encouragement for each other when the other was feeling down, calming each other if one of us got angry.  Often we’d just end up in bed, me in my underwear and him in a diaper, and we’d just cuddle together under the blankets.  We’d kiss and stroke at each other until we built up some kind of reserve of energy, a reserve of self-esteem that helped us face any challenge.

So even after all that we had been through together, the familiarity of our bodies and touch, the need to be held and affirmed, it was still quite the surprise when one day Brad said he had something he wanted to talk with me about and I knew it was something he was embarrassed about, something he was ashamed to say.  It didn’t help that he said this in the morning before we parted ways to go to class.  All day I thought just about every thought from him wanting to break up with me to him proposing marriage.  He didn’t propose.  And we didn’t break up.  But I considered each.

By the time we met up in my dorm room after dinner together in the cafeteria I was nervous about what he was going to say.  Thankfully my roommate was gone for the weekend.  As soon as we entered I wanted to hear it.  I wanted to hear what he had to say but it, whatever it was, didn’t seem to be on his mind, so we stripped down and got into bed, pulled a sheet over us.  We made small talk about our day, teased each other.  I’d pull on his nipple.  He’d kiss my hands.  I’d rub at the bulge between his legs, familiar now with the feel of the diaper covering his dick.  He’d kiss me on the cheek.  He put one hand inside my underwear to feel my dick and I wrapped my arm around his side to reach between his cheeks and feel his hole with a probing finger.  

We had gotten intimate without achieving orgasm or even the possibility of orgasm when I could tell he wanted to talk.  That barrier of shame and embarrassment had been lowered again.  He rolled onto his back away from me so I propped myself up on one elbow and looked into his eyes.  The room was mostly dark because it was evening and I always kept the drapes closed.  He stretched his arms up above his shoulders and put his hands under his head so that I could see the entirety of him, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.  I touched his belly with my free hand, played with his belly button, traced the hairs down to the waist band of his diaper then back up to his ribs.  He let out a laugh.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.

He knew.  He knew that I knew he was thinking about something.  This would be one of those moments, more dangerous now for all the ways we had become familiar with each other.  When we had sex that was one thing.  When I dared him to wear a diaper that was another.  When we went out on a date that ended with him pissing himself that was even more.  If we broke up now it would mean days, weeks, possibly months of mourning the end of our relationship.

“You can tell me,” I said.

I wasn’t sure if I was really ready for it.  It was kind of a dare to him and myself.  How bad could it be?  He was scared of what I might say and do but I wanted to be there for him in all the ways I possibly could, that I knew for sure.  He took a deep breath and I saw him wince as if he were about to cry so I knew it was personal and dangerous to confess.  I leaned into him, kissed at his chest, kissed at his arm pit until he writhed from being tickled and started to laugh.

“I want to try it, with you,” he said through his laughter, “I want to try losing control, like really losing control.”

I pulled away and looked him in the eye.  He stared back and I knew this big jock boy in bed next to me was really afraid.  He could explain sex to himself and to others.  He could possibly explain the diaper as some kind of experiment.  But losing control, giving control over to someone else, that was a powerful thing.  In an instant I felt as if I were the one who was going to cry.  He trusted me, like really trusted me, and he loved me and I loved him too.  I gave him my best coy smile and he smiled back.

“Are we talking about chains and whips here or something else?”

“Something else,” he replied.

“So like, are we talking about you being my sex slave?”

I moved my two fingers up his belly as if my hand was walking up his chest.  He giggled a little and I moved my hand over to his armpit as I pressed into him.  He grinned and contorted with my touch.

“How about just a personal slave to do my laundry?  I really hate picking up after myself.  You could do the dishes and sweep the floor.”

“No, you know,” he replied.

“I think I do but I want to hear you say it.”

“I want to like, you know, I can’t say it.”

I kissed and licked at him, got both hands into his armpits and began to tickle him, tickle his sides as I pushed my body over his until my knees were on either side of him, our chests pressed together I kissed at his neck.  He squirmed and giggled under me, I felt his knees shifting around.

“Stop it, I have to pee,” he said.

“Oh really,” I replied.

I could feel my hard dick in my underwear pressed against his dick trapped inside his diaper.  He pulled his hands out from under his head and tried to grab at my wrists but I had the leverage and I felt like he really didn’t want to stop me.  He could have stopped me, by telling me to stop, by forcibly grabbing my arms or pushing at my chest.  He outweighed me by about forty pounds of muscle.  He had been a wrestler and played basketball regularly.  He had all of the advantage physically, but he let me keep winning as I tickled him.  His laughter got louder when I found the sweet spots and he twisted under me so that he was on his side then on his chest.  His feet fluttered behind me and I grabbed one, tickled it, then grabbed the other and tickled it.

“I’m going to pee,” he said.

I grabbed at his sides, forced my fingers into his pits.  He began to breath so heavily, his face smashed into the pillow he turned to one side then the other for air.  I kept at him until it finally happened.  He pissed himself.  The laughter stopped and he suddenly wasn’t so ticklish.  I tapped him on the shoulder and motioned for him to roll onto his back so he did.  He looked up to me with his big, brown eyes, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m great,” he said.

“Good, because I’m not done with you,” I replied.

“No?”

“No,” I affirmed.

“What are you going to do to me next?”

I remembered something I had read online a long time ago.  It was one of those posts that come up in social media.  It might just be perfect for this type of thing.

“Well, with your permission, I’m going to help you feel and understand what it means to really lose control.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“There’s something I read about on the internet that I wanted to try,” I said.

“What?”

“It involves bananas, a suppository, and a butt plug.”

“Is it going to hurt?”

“I don’t know.  You can read about it while I get the supplies,” I said.

He looked up to me with hope and fear in his eyes.  I leaned down into him, one hand at the back of his head, fingers in his hair, to pull him into a kiss, my other hand strayed down to his diaper.

“It looks like someone had an accident,” I said between kisses.

“Please,” he said, “I really want this.”

I pulled away from him and looked him in the eye.

“I really want this too,” I said.  “I want to do this for you, to you.  I can’t explain it but it’s like you’re giving me this power and I’m terrified of screwing it up.”

“We’ll do this together,” he said.

“I’m not sticking a banana up my ass,” I said with a wry smile.

“No, I mean, be there for each other,” he said.

We hugged, then of course he rolled me onto my side and as if just to prove some point he got on top of me and paused for a moment.  I could feel the full weight of him as he kissed me and held me down, then he stepped off me and off the bed and walked to the shared bathroom.  I looked over to his padded butt, his narrow waist, and muscled back.  It wasn’t just his body.  I trusted him and I believed he trusted me.

Brat in the Frat Ch 04 - Cherry

The following week was one of those Saturdays when I should have been doing homework but instead found myself in bed, in my underwear, and taking turns with my different social media apps on my phone.  I was doing nothing productive.  I felt great. 

My roommate was gone for the weekend, a trip home to do laundry and visit with his family.  I had none of those urges.  I knew how to use the washer and dryer in the basement of the dorms and hated the idea of explaining myself, where I’m going, what I’m doing, etc. to my parents.

By three o’clock my stomach started to growl with hunger and I started to feel the need to get food.  There weren’t many options for the weekends on campus and I hated the idea of leaving for something.  I checked my wallet and found ten dollars cash.  Enough for one or two meals depending on where I ate.  I sighed at my prospects and was about to get out of bed and start doing something when I got a phone call from Brad.  He was still after me to join the frat even though I kept refusing.  But maybe, just maybe he’d have some motivation and need to get some food.  I answered it on the second ring.

“Hey,” I said.  I was trying to be cool.

“Where you at?”

I looked around my dorm room suspiciously.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you still in the dorms or did you go home for the weekend like everyone else?”

“No, I’m in my dorm room.  My roommate went home for the weekend though.  I’ve just been laying in bed doing nothing all day.  Actually, I’m kind of hungry.”

“Text me your room number and I’ll stop by and then we can go get something to eat,” he replied, “see you in a bit.”

He ended the call and I texted him my room number before I tossed my phone away to the bed.  I looked around at the state of my room, clothes everywhere and I was still in my underwear.  I jumped to my feet, pulled on sweat pants and an old t-shirt that didn’t smell too bad, then began to clean up.  Some of the clothes were Kevin’s so I just shoved them under his bed, mine I stuck in a hamper.  I picked up any trash and stuck it in a bag that I dropped outside my door in the hallway to carry down later.  It was easy work and I was finished with five minutes to spare.  I was back on my phone watching a Halloween video about gay, slutty costumes when he knocked at my door.  I knew it was him because it made me jump at the sound of it, plus who else could it be.  I jumped to my feet, turned the handle, and opened the door to find him there in a tank top and basketball shorts.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hey,” he replied as he stepped into my room.

I could smell his sweat as he passed by, his biceps gleamed in the light.  I gulped and felt my dick stir at the presence of him.  He looked around my room, nodded as if he appreciated that I had cleaned up, and looked to my roommate’s side as if studying a foreign creature, looking for some detail that could prove or disprove something.

“Nice room,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said with a bit of a nervous laugh.  Just his presence was making me anxious and his exposed skin, his sweat.  It was the first time we were together since the party at the frat where we sixty-nined.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I didn’t have anything to do and I was hoping you might be the same.”

“Yeah, uh take a seat,” I said.

He moved to my desk chair, dropped his gym bag on the floor, and sat.  He spread his knees and turned to me as I moved to my bed.  He stretched a little and winced.  I gave him an enquiring look.

“I over did it,” he said.  “I’ve been hitting the gym extra hard and I played a couple of pick up games of basketball today.”

Was this it?  Was he hinting at some kind of hook-up?  I had an erection at just the sight of him and thinking about engaging in some kind of sexual activity I bit my lip.  He scratched at himself and I could make out the bulge in his shorts.  He must be thinking the same thing but then I had this thought that if we did something, if we mutually used each other for some quick action that would be it.  It would be over, he’d probably leave and then what would happen?

“I can give you a massage.”  The words leaked out my throat before I really thought about it.  And I regretted saying them.

“Yeah?”

I had to fight my own sense of what I was doing and my stomach pain from hunger gave me a thought for a diversion.

“But I haven’t eaten anything all day.  Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I’m starving,” he replied.  “What do you want?”

“Well, there’s not many options on campus,” I said.

“I could drive,” he said.

And just like that it shifted.  We were on a new mission for food.  I slipped on a pair of shoes, grabbed my wallet and keys and he got to his feet.

“Are you going out like that?”

“We’ll go through the drive thru,” I replied.

I opened the door to my room, then stepped out into the hallway feeling like I was pulling him along.  He followed.  Down the empty hallway to the elevator, down to the first floor, I kept looking at him and he kept looking at me.  Out of the elevator he took the lead as we walked to the student parking lot that was mostly empty.  He walked to one of the few cars, a Dodge Talon, and unlocked it.  I got into the passenger side and he got into the driver’s seat.  He asked me where I wanted to go and I told him I really wanted burgers and fries but otherwise we fell into a kind of silence and just listened to the music playing from his speakers.

He had a deliberate kind of driving style, fast and attentive.  I sat back in the passenger seat and just went with it.  I barely noticed we had gotten to the drive thru until the person asked for our order.  We ordered nearly the same thing and I pulled my money from my wallet but he told me to just hold onto it and that he would pay.  I put my wallet away and watched him pay with a card at one window then collect the food at the next.  I thought for a moment we’d pull over to eat as he started to pull fries from the bag but we didn’t.  He kept driving.  

The next stop was the liquor store where he ran inside while leaving the car running so I started to eat my own fries.  But I couldn’t help but think of him in his basketball outfit, the way the material clung to his ass and I started to get another erection.  He came back out with a bag that he put behind my seat then we were off again.  He drove us back to campus at top speed.  I kept thinking about how I felt lucky he didn’t get a speeding ticket.  We collected our food and he grabbed the bottle from the backseat, then headed back to my dorm room.

Right after I closed the door he pulled a bottle of whiskey from the bag and opened it.  He poured some into my cup and some into his own.  He asked about where to sit and I motioned to the bed so we sat across from each other on my bed cover, thankfully I had made my bed.  And we started to talk.  Just small talk at first but he told me about coming out in the frat and I told him about coming out in high school.  And then he mentioned his first encounter with a man so I told him about mine, then it kind of became a competition for hook up stories and missed opportunities.  We laughed at ourselves and we laughed at each other as we ate.  

By the time we finished our food our cups were low and the liquor was starting to relax us so when he poured another shot into each cup I simply picked up mine and toasted to him.  He downed his in one go so I did the same.  It felt like we had bonded, like that room, us, that moment, was special.  We didn’t care about what was outside.  We only wanted to entertain each other.  And he cleared his throat, thus clearing the air, before speaking.

“What about that massage?”

“Okay,” I replied.

We cleared the bed, put everything in the trash by my desk, and looked to each other.  “I guess I should strip down,” he said before pulling his jersey off.  He did that two handed at the hem thing, pulled it off easily but it was like a magic trick, a revelation.  I saw his hip bones, flat, muscled stomach, his belly button, his pectoral muscles, his nipples, his clavicle, and then it was off and he tossed it on my desk chair.  He dropped his shorts to reveal he was wearing an old school jock strap with a thick waist band at the top, white, with those straps.  He saw my face and giggled before turning to show his butt and that the straps were between his cheeks like a thong.  I slapped at his butt playfully and he looked over his shoulder to me.

“What?” he asked.

“That’s not how most people wear it,” I said.

“Well, it’s kind of my little secret when I’m out there playing,” he said.

He leaned down and got back onto my bed, spread out face down, stretched until his feet were against the one wall and his hands were easily off the other end, then retracted himself so that his arms were at his sides and he was comfortable.  I felt my erection against my underwear, just the sight of him again.  And the smell of him.  I could smell his sweat.

What had partially been a joke was now a reality and I quickly realized I didn’t have much to massage him with, there was some lotion I kept in the stand by my bed but I started to worry I wouldn’t have enough.  We should have stopped at the store, I thought, but then I remembered it, I remembered my lubricant bottle.  It was in my little black bag, my little black bag of shame, the one I felt guilty about carrying into other men’s apartments.  I retrieved the lotion and put it on the bed between his knees.  I looked to him and saw that he was looking away, totally relaxed and waiting.  I retrieved the black bag, stepped onto the bed, knelt between his legs.  I set the bag behind me just in case he looked back.

I started with the lotion on his shoulders.  He laughed a little when the cold goo hit his skin and I took note to warm it up in my hands first.  I gripped at his skin, pressed into his flesh with my fingers.  I’m not a licensed masseur.  Hell I’ve had very little experience, but this wasn’t about therapy.  I just wanted to feel him, feel each muscle, and so I did.  I worked over his back one dollop of lotion at a time.  And he sighed, I could see his shoulders relax and I heard his breathing slow.

No tattoos, no scars, just a few pimples, I moved down his spine and back up, across his back muscles then down almost to his ass.  I let my fingers drift a little more with each movement until I was near his arm pits.  I moved my fingers down to his lats where he gave out a ticklish squeal.  I couldn’t help but smile at what I had found and explored further around his sides and up to his arm pits I heard his feet move against the sheet and looked back to see his toes slowly squeeze and then snap tight when I got to his arm pits.  He let out a laugh and turned his head to me.

“Watch where you’re going there I’m very ticklish and we don’t want any accidents,” he said.

“Oh no,” I joked.

“I don’t like to lose control,” he said.

“Really?”

“Not like that, it’s humiliating.  The last time I pissed myself I was eight and couldn’t get into the bathroom because my sisters were in there.  My father whooped my butt and told me to use a tree next time.”

I paused for a moment at the confession.  There was so much to unpack from what he said but I knew it wasn’t the time so I shook it off and went back to work.  Slowly, very slowly down his body.  I slid my hand over his butt and he started to look back to me so I went to his thighs where I dug in with my thumbs and started to use real pressure.  I figured his thick, muscled thighs could take it.  He relaxed again and I knew I was on the right track.

Further down his legs, slowly and methodically I worked the tension from each muscle, all of the way to his ankles.  His ankles barely got a coating of oil but the heels of his feet that’s where I applied the pressure and slowly across the arch to the balls of his feet.  For a moment he grunted in pleasure before I hit the wrong spot and he began to squirm and giggle again.

“What’d I say about that,” he said.

“Do you have to pee?” I asked.

“No, I mean yeah, but I’ve got a hard on so not right away, let’s finish this.”

“Well, I’ve just about done everything back here so roll over,” I said.

“I’ve got an erection,” he said.

“I’ve seen it before.  I’ve even sucked it.”

“No, I just want to stay like this,” he said, “do my back again.”

I worked my way up his thighs and I realized he was slowly, deliberately humping the bed in small motions probably hoping I wouldn’t notice.  I slapped his butt playfully and told him to hold still.  He laughed it off.  I massaged his thighs some more until I got to the straps of his jock.

“Maybe we should take this off,” I said.

He lifted up and let me strip it off, but he held himself up there and I could see his asshole, his balls, and his hard dick hanging down at an angle so I did something he didn’t expect, I pulled his dick and balls between his thighs as he went back down to his belly.  I had a new toy to play with but I also had run out of lotion some time ago so I got the bottle of lubricant and started with his balls.  I got them slick with the oil and worked them until they were tight.  

His hard dick was pronounced, leaking a little so I ran my finger down the shaft to the bit of foreskin.  I played with the foreskin a little, felt around the head and pinched it with my slick fingers.  He groaned and moaned with each touch.  I moved up his taint, massaged it, slowly closer to his asshole and he lifted his head in surprise.

“I’m not into that,” he said.  “I don’t get fucked.”

“It doesn’t make you any less of a man,” I offered, “just relax and enjoy it.”

“Just don’t tell anyone,” he said.

“This is just between the two of us,” I replied.

And I made sure my fingers were well lubricated before I got to his asshole.  I passed over it the first time, focused on the muscles around it first until I felt him relax, then I slowly worked one finger into him as I gripped his dick with my whole hand.  He raised up a little then lowered himself so I kept at it.  I continued to stroke his dick slowly as I poured more lubricant onto his hole.  I worked one finger deep until I felt his prostate and I tickled it a little.  He shrieked and squirmed at the sensation but he told me to keep doing it, one knee up slightly I nudged him to him back down on the bed.  I pressed a second finger into him and he took it.

Two fingers of my left hand deep inside his hole I lazily played with his dick and balls, once along the shaft, grip at each nut, once along the shaft, grip at each nut, all the time my fingers inside of him.  He started to hump the bed and I spanked him playfully and told him to let me do it.  I wanted the control.  I wanted to be the one who put him over the edge but I felt him start to buck, his hips followed the motion of my fingers as if he wanted to preserve the feeling of having them inside.  He wanted them.  He wanted me.

“I want to fuck you,” I said.

“Fuck me,” he replied.

I stripped off my clothes, tossed them on the floor.  I paused for just a moment to put on a condom and get my hard on slick before I pulled him onto his knees and I stuck my dick between his cheeks.

“Please, fuck me, I need it,” he said.

Here he was a jock boy who didn’t want to be penetrated begging for my dick, on all fours on my bed in my dorm room.  I slid into him, tight and warm.  I could feel his heartbeat.  I grabbed his dick with my lubricated hand and I felt his hole tighten as I let his dick penetrate my fist.  He moaned and grunted, louder and louder.  I started to pound at his ass and he was throwing it back at me.  It didn’t take long.  I felt his hard dick spasm as he held his breath during his climax, a hot red rocket that covered my sheets in ejaculate, a spray of lust.  And I worked myself inside him, grabbed at him, and a few moments later my own blinding orgasm.

I fell against him and he fell to the bed.  I reached down to the condom and held it as I pulled my dick out of him.  I rolled onto my side.  He rolled into me.  I threw the condom to the floor and he laughed a little as I felt his cheeks against my dick again.  He pulled my arms around his side, my hands up to his nipples that I twisted a little.

“Next time I do the front half,” I said.

“Definitely,” he replied.

And we fell asleep there cuddled together for a few hours.  He woke up before me and got out of bed, used the bathroom and I did the same, but as I was walking back out he was getting dressed.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Chill, don’t worry, it was fun, a lot of fun, but I’m not used to actually sleeping with someone so I’m going back to my room, but I’ll call you in the morning and we should go out for breakfast.  Here I’m leaving you something.”

He held up his jockstrap and tossed it to me like I had done to him before with my briefs.  Is that where we were at?  I caught them and held them up to my nose and sniffed at them.  He laughed a little at the sight of it and I blushed.

“And next time we’re going to invest in some more oils,” he said.

“And lube,” I replied.

He shook his head and got to his feet, fully dressed he moved to me as I stood there naked.  He put one hand on my hip, closed the distance between us, and kissed me briefly on the lips before slapping my ass playfully and pulling away.  He walked out from my room as I began to twirl the jock by one strap from my finger.

Grind and Bump (pt 01)

The grind of working 60 hours a week for two weeks on a project was getting to me so when my intern suggested we go out dancing Friday night I didn't refuse. Maybe it was the long hours and the lack of sleep or the booze but I kind of forgot myself. I wasn't just being bold. I was being a brat, thirty-two, and I was acting like a teen.

I spotted this cute guy and approached him with my carefree attitude. He was turned off at first but I kept flirting with him. His name was Jason and he  was twenty-two and still in college, working to complete a degree in business administration. I told him what I did and offered to talk business later if he'd come dance with me. He gave in to the offer and we moved out to the floor.

After a song or two I was sweating so I took off my shirt. He perked up at the sight of my muscles and started to grind against me so it was easy to get his shirt off, but for some reason, probably because his hands were moving, I tucked it into my back pocket. We danced like that for another ten minutes until a tall, muscle bound guy caught my eye. I motioned for him to come over and he did, but rather than dance with the two of us he picked just me. I didn't think twice about it. As attractive as Jason was this new guy had power and charm. We danced for a while and then he pulled me aside, told me I was fun but that he needed to leave with some friends. I invited him back to my place. He turned me down but gave me his number.

A lot of fucking good that will do me tonight, I thought as I walked away. For a moment I looked for Jason but didn't spot him so I headed back to my table where my intern sat looking at his phone while casually sipping a drink. I asked him if he had gotten out and danced and said he hadn't. Things are so different these days. I told him I was going to the bar but he barely acknowledged me. I patted my pockets for my wallet and felt my shirt hanging from my back pocket, not just my shirt, two shirts. I pulled Jason's out and looked around for a moment before tossing it in the trash. I made my way through the other guys to the bar and ordered a whiskey.

It took forever but eventually the bartender got to me. I was about to down it when I spotted Jason, actually he spotted me. He started walking towards me and for a moment I thought about running away especially when I saw he was flanked by two guys bigger than him. But something inside told me I had the upper hand because I was older so I ordered another drink. Jason got up close, looked up into my eyes.

"Where's my shirt?" he asked.

"Let me see," I pulled out my shirt and pretended to be confused, "must have fallen out."

"Where? Where did you leave it?"

"I don't know. You can search me but I swear I don't have it."

"It's cold out there. What the hell man?"

"Not my problem," I replied.

I started to feel bad for what I did but pushed away the feelings and doubled down on my resolve. But they continued to stand there looking at each other, clueless and not sure what to do next. I knew the best way to deal with a lie, something they had no ability to disprove, was to not give in, even act concerned and maybe a little disappointed in myself.

"Look, let me buy you and your friends a drink, then we'll look around for it." Short of looking in the trash I knew we'd never find it. Jason moved in beside me to the bar, his friends crossed their arms. I looked down over his lean, muscled stomac then back at them. Maybe there's still a way to have some fun, I thought. "Listen, we'll ask for the lost and found, maybe we can find a shirt that fits."

"I guess. I know it's dumb but I really liked that shirt."

"I know. I'm sorry for losing it."

I looked up to the bartender and caught his attention long enough to order a beer for each of us plus his two friends. The guys stepped in long enough to get their beers then retreated to a table. I looked over Jason again, moved a little closer to him.

"I'm sorry about that guy earlier. He was just so forceful. I have a problem saying no, I can never do it. I thought, you know, he'd actually be interested in both of us."

"Is that what you're looking for?"

"Well yeah, I mean I had a long, stressful week that really paid off and I'm in need of, you know, some release. Tonight may not be the night, I guess I get used to how things are at work. You're studying business right?"

Somehow that got him talking. And pretty soon we had a conversation, broken up intermittently with a few texts he sent from his phone. A half hour or so went by with him asking questions and me telling him how the real world works. The beer was starting to get to me and I was feeling defeat was imminent so I interrupted the flow.

"What's your friends' names?"

"Mark and Allen," he said. "Why?"

"I'm just going to introduce myself, apologize for losing your shirt, and head out. If you're interested we could exchange numbers. Are they both gay?"

"Yeah, we live in an apartment together with a couple of other guys. It's nicknamed the 'Homo House' around campus. Let's go talk to them first, then we can exchange numbers."

Jason stepped away and I followed. We stepped to their table as they were talking to each other. One of them looked up to me and laughed a little, the other smacked him on the elbow to get him to quit. I didn't know the joke but I was glad they were in a better mood.

"So um, I'm headed out. Which one of you is Mark and which one is Allen?"

"I'm Mark," the one on the left said. He had a spiked haircut and pimply forehead from the gel he put in his hair but he was handsome, really handsome.

"I'm Allen," the other said slightly raising his hand. He was similarly built but with parted hair, a kind of preppy look.

"Nice to meet you, and again I'm sorry about the shirt. We didn't check the lost and found but maybe you still can, hell just take something you like. Anyway, I'm headed out."

"What, no, stay and have a few more drinks," Mark said.

I shook my head, shook off the idea. I was drunk and it would be a struggle to drive as I was. I didn't know where my inter was and another drink I'd have to catch a taxi.

"Hey, we were thinking of going back to our apartment. Do you want to come?"

I looked around at the guys but especially Jason as he stood next to me. I got a chubby just seeing his flat stomach. There were so many things I could imagine doing to him, with him. He had lean arms which I liked, a smooth chest, and a nice butt. And if he had a big dick, well that'd be a good handle for fucking him in the ass.

"I don't know. I mean I know the way home but driving to a college apartment..."

"It's easy, just follow us. Jason could go with you so you don't get lost," Mark said.

"Better yet, one of us could drive your car," Allen offered.

"Well," I said looking to Jason. His pants hung loose around his hips showing off the waistband of his underwear, white so they were probably briefs. I love briefs. I have an obsession. They look so cute, better when wet, and they make a great gag when fucking a little guy like him. That's when he looked up at me, looked me in the eyes and I wanted him so bad. "Okay," I said.

And just like that we headed out. Mark took my keys and I pointed out my car, Allen led the way over to their car. He motioned for us to both get in the backseat and Allen didn't seem to notice, much less care. We got in together and bumped shoulders. Allen was quick to start the car and drive out. Mark followed after us with mine. But my attention was on Jason, Jason and my bladder, though my hard on helped the latter.

We drove for a while with me just staring at him in the passing streetlights. It was like they were teasing me as they revealed different angles of his body. He barely acknowledged me though and for a moment I thought I had done something wrong but then he looked over to me and reached for my knee. I nodded eagerly and he continued to move his hand up my thigh to my bulge where he squeezed it, groped it. I leaned to him and we kissed. His other hand grabbed at my side and I took hold of his shoulders, pulled him deeper into the kiss and nearly on my lap. He massaged my dick until it was hard as he played with one of my nipples. I ran my fingers down his body to his hips and pulled him on top of me. He sat on my erection and moved his hand up my chest, took hold of each nipple. He pulled and tugged at them as we kissed. I wanted him so badly. I wanted to be inside of him. He rocked a little, my dick got trapped. It was a mixture of pleasure and pain as he sat back down on it.

"Don't get too freaky back there, not unless you want to clean my backseat."

Allen's words rang in my ears but there was no stopping Jason as he continued to grind on me. He pulled at my nipples until they were hard points and I could feel the trace of his fingertips each time. I pushed my tongue against his but he wasn't having it. He was kissing me. And I liked it. He was an aggressive little bottom boy, I thought, as I imagined getting him in bed, fucking him as he grabbed at the sheets, but down on a pillow, no better yet had his mouth stuffed with those sweat soaked briefs.

"We're here," Allen said.

Jason pulled away from his kiss. I gasped for air for a moment before looking to the driver's seat. "So soon?" I asked.

"I'm going to drop you guys off up front then go park. Mark will park on a nearby street so you can leave whenever."

"Thanks," I said.

"Let's go," Jason ordered before pushing open the door. He stepped out and I followed after him. My dick slid around in my underwear leaving a cold trail of slime but it was still hard so I looked around for a moment but didn't see anyone so I walked with a little more confidence into the building and up the stairs to their third floor apartment.

Jason stopped at the door and pulled out his key. I took the opportunity to bump into him, my dick against his back I wrapped my arms around him. He pushed open the door, took hold of my arms and led me inside. He turned on the lights as we went to reveal an apartment not unlike my own from college. It was full of second hand furniture and there was litter on the floor, a stack of pizza boxes and a pyramid of beer cans.

"Let's go to your room," I said.

I pulled a little to go towards the hallway where I expected rooms but he resisted and said we should have a drink first. He pulled me into the small kitchen to a cabinet where he took out a bottle of vodka and a half dozen shot glasses.

"Why so many?"

"My other roommates might be home soon," he replied.
He poured, we each had two shots. I started kissing at his neck and rubbing my hands over his body until he kissed me over his shoulder. I could have, I wanted to fuck him right there, but he pulled me into the living room, turned on me and pushed me to the couch. I looked up to him, the way his pants hung loose, his bare hips, and belly button. He put a knee on either side of me, mounted me and sat on my lap. He kissed me again and I listened for his roommates. It wasn't long until I heard them at the door. They walked in together and I kept track of the footsteps. Would they leave us together in the living room? No, they moved behind me. Jason pulled away from the kiss, pushed me back into the couch.

Something entered my vision, something cloth, something the same color as, it was Jason's shirt and fell down over my face. They slapped me on the shoulders playfully before heading off to the kitchen. Jason stood up, stepped away. What kind of trick was this? What kind of plan? Why so elaborate? Get me back here with a raging hard on only to reveal they had the shirt, must have seen me throw it away. I started to pull it off my face but Jason told me to stop so I did. I didn't feel like I was in any real danger, I could still walk away, maybe I'd have to get physical, maybe call the cops. I slid my hand along my thigh to feel for my phone when I found it was missing. That's when I heard the snap of a phone camera.

"Which one of your contacts should get this first?" Jason asked.

Mark and Allen walked over behind him with the bottle and shot glasses in hand which they set down on the coffee table. I pulled the shirt from my face and threw it to the floor. I could see the three of them clearly.

"What's going on here? And give me back my phone," I demanded.

"Relax, you're amongst friends," Mark said.

"This is a really good picture of you," Allen remarked as he looked over Jason's shoulder.

"Okay, this has gone far enough," I said.

"Relax, we just want to party. Didn't you want to party?" Allen asked.

"Yeah, Jason here said you wanted a three way with the guy earlier tonight. Maybe it could be a little more."

Jason put my phone in his pocket and smiled at me. It was a hopeful, nice smile that defeated any anger I had. This was an elaborate prank, a joke on me, but it still might turn out to my favor. I looked again at him. That's when he kicked off his shoes,  dropped his pants and stepped out of them.

White, sweaty briefs, an ample bulge, he smiled at me as I narrowed my focus. Mark and Allen pulled off their shirts and sat in chairs behind him, slid off their shoes. Mark put up his feet on a small ottoman. Allen flexed his pectoral muscles. But I looked back to Jason. Was it possible? Could we all fit inside of him? Just what did they have in mind?
An orgy? With this twink the center of attention? There had been so many ups and downs but I lucked into meeting college guys, gay college guys, who all live together and wanted me to join them. It was too good to be true but his sexy little body was so appealing. I'd have to take charge, at least in part and make my role clear. I was a top, okay I'd let a couple guys fuck me, but not usually, not anymore, not these college guys. I curled my finger to beckon him to me. But he didn't move.

"Not so fast," Mark said.

"We want to know what we're dealing with and you owe Jason an apology. You didn't lose his shirt. We saw you throw it away."

I pushed myself to my feet. My bladder shifted and I had to piss really badly but my hard dick held back the sensation. I unbuckled my belt, opened my pants, slid out of my shoes, and pushed my pants down, stepped out of them, dropped them on the couch behind me. Mark and Allen smirked to each other then grinned at me. Jason stared at my bulge then looked up into my eyes and winked. This was a game, I thought, okay I'll play along to get what I want. I reached down to my jockeys and grabbed my dick, got it harder in an attempt to tease them.

"I don't hear an apology," Mark said.

"He doesn't seem very humble," Allen added.

I looked down to the floor.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sorry for throwing your shirt in the trash."

I looked up to Jason who ran a finger along his cock, traced a line from his balls to his hip, tickled the head. It was big, possibly bigger than my own.

"I hear the words but you don't sound very humble," Allen said.

"He doesn't look very humble, come closer," Mark ordered.
I stepped around the coffee table, closer to them and closer to Jason. I bowed my head and uttered the same apology.

"He's trying but I thought humility was, I don't know, more bare, more vulnerable."

"What do want me to do get down on my knees?" I replied with sarcasm in my voice.

"That would be a good start," Allen said.

"Naked," Mark added.

I took off my socks, tossed them on top of my pants. I put my thumbs inside the band of my underwear, dragged them down across my thighs, stepped out of them, and tossed the last article of clothing onto the pile. My hard dick stuck out, my ass cheeks bared. I stepped closer to Jason as he continued to rub the head of his dick through his underwear. I knelt. I looked to his feet.

"I'm sorry for throwing your your shirt in the trash," I said.

"And?"

"And what?"

"You also lied."

I looked up to Jason, looked him in the eye. He hadn't said a word since threatening to send a picture of me to one of my contacts. This wasn't his game. It was theirs. But it was all right there. He was all right there for the taking. I looked back to his feet.

"I'm sorry I threw your shirt in the trash and I'm sorry for having lied about it." Those words were easy but I learned long ago there was a second part to an apology, something many people don't ask anymore, the most difficult part. "Do you forgive me?"

Mark and Allen clapped. Jason continued to look down at me for a long time. He shifted on his feet, reached down and took hold of my chin and raised my eyes up to meet his.

"I forgive you," he said.

The other guys laughed a little, but Jason just stared at me.

Continues: Here.