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Frat House Fun

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 15 Jul 1999 2 comments
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by hotpad75@hotmail.com This is a true story, although names have been changed. Questions, comments or lewd suggestions are always welcome at the above email address. About ten years ago, I pledged a fraternity at the University of Iowa. Unlike almost all of the other houses on campus, which mostly catered to jocks, preppies, or assholes, this place reminded me a lot of the frat in Revenge of the Nerds: a lot of misfits, hippies, stoners, heavy drinkers, and similar degenerates. It was a pretty low-key affair, and people were encouraged to be individuals rather than to buy into the frat boy pack mentality. This pretty much killed us in a place like Iowa City (the house folded not long after I graduated), but made it a hell of a lot of fun. There was a small clique of gay guys in the house that everyone knew about. For the most part, nobody gave a shit, although there were one or two gung ho all-American guys that made it pretty clear that they didn't want a bunch of "fudge packers" living under the same roof with them. For the most part, though, the gay/bi clique was winked at, and a few of us thought it was pretty cool since we were at least openly acknowledging what was going on at just about every other frat house on campus. My experience took me by surprise. I figured that I was bisexual from high school forward (I used to get turned on in the gym shower and spent many a morning making a run for the stalls and a relaxing "emergency wank"), but was too uptight to do much more about it. Once I got to college, I pretty much became addicted to porn, and probably spent more time at the local wank palace than in the classroom. At the time, there were video booths at a place called the Velvet Touch, but no glory holes, so I became best friends with my right hand and enjoyed an occasional one-night stand with a local bar slut. My favorite nights in my whole college experience were when a brother would come home with a stack of hot porn tapes and a dozen of us would sit for sometimes 3 or 4 hours watching some of the skank nastiest hardcore that you can imagine. I always wished that these would develop into a circle jerk, but it never did happen. At a party one night in November 1989, all of this changed. I had a real close buddy in the house named Ron, whom everyone suspected was gay. By far, he was the most beautiful man that I have ever met: he had really long strawberry blond hair, piercing blue eyes and really fine - almost effeminite - features. He was a swimmer of average heigth and really slender (he maybe weighed 130 pounds when wet). He swam in high school, so he was muscular but thin. Later I found out that he was completely hairless as well, except for a thin covering of down on his legs, and a dark patch of pubic hair which he kept closely trimmed and short. Like I said, everyone thought he was gay, but in fact Ron was probably the most heterosexually active guy in the house. Almost every week he'd end up home with one of the frat's little sisters (i.e. friendly neighborhood slut) and would regail the brothers with tales of his exploits before chapter meetings. In spite of this, almost everyone called him a fag to his face and made fun of his clothes and his mannerisms. He took this ribbing really well; truthfully, I think that no one thought he was in fact a bisexual, and the teasing was more like the kind of joking that goes on in the gym-locker rather than real queer-bashing. At any rate, Ron and I were pretty close friends. He and I had similar tastes in music and had a lot of long conversations on surprisingly un-frat boy topics. Our friendship increased about a year earlier when the two of us and a bunch of other brothers had taken a road trip to El Paso for a shit bowl game (which we lost). He and I ended up being really close friends (something about puking side by side outside of a skanky strip bar in Cuidad Juarez, Mexico, can do that to guys, I think). Anyway, our house was having a retro 60s party, which pretty much meant that a third of the house was stoned, a third of the house was trying to get laid and a third of the house was trying to recreate their favorite scenes from Animal House. Shortly after midnight, Ron approached me and said he had some good wine and the new REM CD up in his room and did I want to head up there. This wasn't particularly unusual as our parties would usually end up breaking down into small mini-parties, especially around the time that the really drunk guys started getting rowdy (that night, a bunch of them ended up stealing about 400 plastic milk crates from the local Seven Eleven for "lawn art"). When we were in Ron's room, he shut the door, which was a little strange. However, it didn't strike me as too weird since I was pretty buzzed, the music from downstairs was really loud, and a guy nicknamed Fish (because he drank so much) had a habit of wandering into peoples rooms during parties so he could puke on their floors. Ron and I talked about mostly nothing for about ten minutes, and then he suddenly got all serious. "Hey, Jon, there's been something I've been meaning to ask you about for a long time" "Yeah?" "Well, you know how all the guys are always teasing me about being a fag?" "Yeah". At this point, I was thinking, aw shit, here comes an emotional outpouring. For a long time I thought that Ron was secretly hurt by all the teasing, and figured that he was going to ask me to try and curtail some of it. "Well," he said and then paused, "what would you say if I told you that they weren't 100% wrong about it?" It took me a few seconds to figure out what he meant, and then a few more to recover my composure. As I said, we all thought Ron might be gay, but it's a whole lot different to suspect it and to have to confront it openly. At the same time, however, I was suddenly really interested in our conversation. "Yeah, big deal", I finally said, "half the house is either gay or bi." Ron's next comment floored me: "So are you?" I must have looked like I'd just been shot, because Ron looked really concerned, stood up and started laughing uncomfortably. "I'm just fuckin with you, Jon. Let's get back to the party". A hundred thoughts raced through my mind. On the one hand, I was really curious about sex with a man, and a flood of old memories and desires - hardons in the gym shower, watching guy-on-guy videos in the cubicles at the Velvet Touch, longing for circle jerks in the basement of the frat - all came rushing back. On the other hand, I was really concerned about the dreaded "fag" label and was concerned about what my family and friends would think if they knew that I was even thinking about doing it with a guy. Fortunately, I was liquored up a bit, and my lowered inhibitions told this part of my conscience to take a hike. "Naw, wait," I said after what seemed like an eternity, "I might be". A huge shit-eating grin spread across his face, and he sat down next to me, looking deep into my eyes. Then he proceeded to tell me about his experience. Evidently, he'd thought he was bi for a long time. Knowing that everyone already thought he was gay, however, dissuaded him from experimenting. Then, about six months earlier, he'd hooked up with a really wild woman. She was insatiable and really experimental, introduced him to anal sex, and ultimately talked him into threesomes with both guys and girls. This was back in the days before anyone talked much about aids, and the few who did know about it felt that it was confined to places like San Francisco and LA. On college campuses, or at least in Iowa, the days of safer sex and serial monogamy were still a long way off. Anyway, during a threesome with another guy, this girl talked Ron and the guy into doing 69 on each other while she watched and masturbated. Ron loved the experience: this guy was evidently really good at sucking cock and had shot a huge load of tasty cum down Ron's throat. From then on, he was hooked. Ron's girlfriend introduced him to the college's limited (but thriving) gay and bi community, and he pretty much dogged around. According to Ron, he had since tried almost anything that a man and his cock can experience: mutual jacking, anal, oral, double penetrations on men and women, being fucked with a strap on, video sex, open sex in a gym shower, sex with a uniformed campus police officer� the list seemed to go on forever. The more Ron talked, the fucking hornier I got. I kept trying to shift around so he wouldn't see the sizeable erection growing in my jeans, but it was no use. Alternating his gaze between my face and my cock, he went into greater and greater detail on his exploits as my tool grew harder and harder. Eventually, he began to slowly stroke his own dick through his pants; I took this as a sign of acceptance, and began to do the same. "Goddamn it, Jon, it feels a hell of a hot better if you take your fucking pants off first". By this time, I was beyond the point of no return. Without hesitation, I stood, and in one fluid motion, had my jeans and jockeys off. My cock and balls jumped free, aching for relief. "Aw shit, that's a nice one", Ron said as he shimmying out of his own pants and underwear. Finally, I got a view of his cock. Like mine, it was circumsized, average sized with a huge purple cap. Ron kept his pubic hairs really closely trimmed and his scrotum shaved smooth. He was also really thin, so he looked a lot like the high school guys that I had lusted after so many years ago. At the time, I was also in really good shape: I ran and worked out on weights three times a week. I was a little shorter than him, but built a little more. Often I've wished that we had a picture of ourselves together, two strapping kids in the prime of our sexual life, sporting great big boners and not giving a fuck about anything. For a minute, I thought about just going right to town on slurping up Ron's lovely cock, but my conscience kicked in (dammit). Instead, I asked him if we could just keep it slow for the time being. He smiled, and admitted that just jerking with a guy, no strings attached, was a personal favorite. I was still a little gun shy, so Ron got started. He took long, lingering strokes with his index finger and thumb in a ring. Almost maddeningly slowly, he worked his way up and down the entire length of his cock, always stopping at the base for a quick massage of his low hanging balls. With each stroke, he seemed to get bigger, the viens along his shaft looking as if they might explode, and his piss hole gaping ever wider as it leaked glistening drops of precum. I held off on my own pleasure for a few minutes, partly because I wanted to soak up the sight of this hot stud slowing exploring himself, and partly because I knew that I was horny and wouldn't be able to hold back my own orgasm for very long. Ron's breathing grew erratic, and his gaze turned smoky, his eyes seeming to burn into mine. "Come on, Jon," he panted, "I want to come with you." I grabbed my dick in my favorite masturbation style: a full fisted cylinder with my right hand while my left hand massaged my scrotum. It felt fucking wonderful, and I was pumping out an incredible amount of clear, slippery precum. Ron and I stood across from each other, each of us pumping our shafts at an ever increasing tempo, both of us covered in a thin sheen of sweat, our gazes alternating between our eyes and our hard, young penises. Very quickly, I felt the familiar warmth of an orgasm building at the base of my cock. I slowed a little bit, and gasped "Aw fuck, I'm almost there". "Yeah, me too". Ron's voice was deep and husky, a little shaky, and I knew that he too was about ready to explode. Almost on cue, we both began to pump harder. I increased the grip on my cock and balls, feeling the pleasurable tightness. My eyes couldn't leave Ron's prick; his hand was flying furiously over the entire length of his cock, and his breathing was deep and ragged. Suddenly, the muscles in his thighs and stomach seemed to tighten, his entire body went rigid, and he stopped stroking, pinching his fingers around the base of his cock. "Ahhhh, fuck", he panted, and quickly released his grip on the root of his erection. His cock bobbed free, twitched up and down a few times, and then proceeded to spew out a thick stream of white cum. After two more large spurts, he began to stroke again, milking thick droplets of his semen, which dropped onto the carpet. Meanwhile, I was in heaven. The first wave of Ron's cum had shot almost three feet, splattering my thigh just above my knee. The feel of his hot spunk and the sudden musty smell of cum that seemed to fill the room pushed me over the edge of abandon. As the muscles as the base of my cock began to tighten, I relaxed my grip and began to stroke the whole shaft quickly, feeling the nerve endings in my cock explode. As my muscles spasmed, I felt that lovely warm rushing feeling that we all know so well, and gasped. When I began to cum, I looked into Ron's eyes. They were wide open and riveted on my cock, which only turned me on more. Wave after wave spread throughout my body, and I nearly fell over as the last warm and wonderful drops of cum dripped from my tingling penis. When my orgasm had ended, Ron crossed over to me, and we hugged. While we were close I grabbed his still warm and partially erect penis, and massaged it, spreading some of his cum all over his crotch. He did the same, licking a drop of semen from his index finger. The rest of that evening - and indeed, the rest of that year is a total blur. Eventually, I stopped giving a shit about what the other frat brothers in the house thought, and we began a circle jerk club with the other gay and bi guys in our house. I also tried oral and anal with those guys, and while I absolutely love giving and receiving a good blow job or a hot fuck (with either sex), I still feel most horny when I'm with a few well-built guys, each of us pleasuring ourselves. Unfortunately, a few members of our frat who disapproved of what was going on eventually blew the whistle on us to our national fraternity, which (of course) didn't like the idea of (open) sexual activities between brothers. They came in and reorganized our house about a year later and kicked out the druggies and those of us who were fingered as being gay or bi. However, while my time in the brotherhood of the fraternity was over, my initiation into the much more intimate brotherhood of men was just beginning�.