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Chapters 1, 2 and 3 tell the story of Chris and Justin, roommates in their sophomore year in college. Justin is an athletic frat boy with lots of animal charm, and quickly turns the sexually inexperienced Chris into his live-in submissive. Justin’s volatile and violent personality, however, eventually frighten Chris into asking his Resident Advisor for new quarters. Instead of sympathy, Chris receives a severe ass-whipping from his RA. Afraid to return to the room with Justin, Chris manages to find temporary housing with an older female friend; simultaneously, a hookup app leads him to Mark, who provides physical and emotional solace, including Chris’ first kiss.
Halloween was over, but pumpkin cutouts and tattered cotton spider webs still adorned the doors and common areas of Kroetzger. Chris rolled his suitcase down the first-floor hall he hadn’t entered for two weeks, a spring in his step. He looked calmer after his sojourn with his friend Pat, but the biggest contributor to his good mood was his date tonight with Mark. They had seen each other four times now. Four times! Each one had been better than the last. It was such a blessing to spend time with someone older. Granted, 27 was not old, but it was a world away from Chris’ college-age peers. Mark had a much broader worldview, a more informed perspective. And he was just so damned hot. Muscular pecs with amazing dark hair, solid arms, a hairy belly, and an enormous uncut dick with pubes as dense as a black, hairy rainforest. But the eyes – the eyes would have kept Chris coming back no matter what the rest of him looked like. Warm, ardent, and a brilliant royal blue, shining over a sexy pair of lips, and a manly, trimmed beard. Mmmmm.
Chris put his key in the door of 119, and opened it confidently, knowing that his jock roommate, Justin, would not be home. They had not seen each other since Justin had punched him repeatedly in the stomach two weeks ago after coming home drunk; they had made up, if you could call it that, by email. Chris had deliberately picked a time to move back in when he knew Justin would be at his frat house – Friday at 6 p.m. That gave him time to unpack the clothes and books he had taken to Pat’s house, and get showered and ready for his date with Mark. It had been a pain commuting to school from almost 60 miles away, but necessary.
Justin had not truly apologized in his emails; far from it. However, he had also not made any references to his head injury, or even to their sexual activities and the Dom/sub dynamic that Justin had forced on Chris from the day they moved in. Well . . . not entirely forced, Chris had to admit. He had been a very willing participant in almost all of it. He was sure that if he didn’t have Mark to focus on, he would have been really craving Justin’s meaty cock in his mouth, and his delicious musky ass in his face. And his feet. And . . . well, fuck it, Justin was an asshole, but he was still very hot. And Chris had gone from complete sexual inexperience to giving daily blowjobs and all sorts of other twisted shit. If it hadn’t been for the violence, it would have been pretty great. Except . . . except he wouldn’t have met Mark. Who was sooooo dreamy.
Chris may have had conflicting urges about submitting to men, but he sure as hell knew he loved to kiss. That was his favorite thing now, and it seemed to be Mark’s, too. After their first meeting, they had gotten together for coffee three times, then headed back to Mark’s condo for some messing around. Never more than oral yet – at first Chris’ ass had been too swollen and bruised for Mark to really feel like he could do more than rub it sympathetically. Even today, if you looked closely, you could still see some fading yellow marks from the RA’s razor strop. But also, Chris had carefully managed their time together so he was never there too long before he “had to leave to get back to Pat’s” – enough time for some great cocksucking, for sure, but not enough for anything else. He had resisted dinner, too. Tonight would be the first time he’d have a meal with Mark. It was in part a strategy to keep Mark interested, but even more it was shyness, and the small voice deep inside him that didn’t believe Mark could be genuinely interested in a short, cute but dorky guy with a small dick and chest stubble.
Ugh, that stubble. Chris had kept his face clean shaven, but had decided, with Mark’s support, that his natural hairy chest was an easier, more comfortable, and all around better choice. It was taking for-fucking-ever to grow in, though. The pubes were coming back too, but Mark had threatened to shave them again once Chris was recovered enough to begin some Dom/sub kinkiness.
Sounds fun, Chris thought with a smile. He might be a little nervous, but after two weeks he was also incredibly horny to try some of the nasty things he and Mark sexted about, some of which he already knew he liked because he had tried them with Justin.
And then there was anal sex. Mark was not subtle about reminding Chris Sakarya Escort how much he wanted to plant his uncut dick in Chris’ virgin hole and shove it repeatedly as far in as it could go.
Chris grimaced involuntarily. Even with someone as nice as Mark, it was going to hurt. A LOT, with a dick that size. And although he wanted it as badly as Mark did, still . . . it was his first time, and he wanted it to be special. Memorable, but in the right way.
Chris already had his outfit picked out for the dinner date – his one fancy shirt, dark blue with a nice pattern on it, and olive slacks. It looked good with his light brown hair and blue eyes. They were going to an Asian fusion place that Mark loved – not formal, but expensive. Mark’s treat, obviously; Chris was a student, and his boyfriend . . . could he call him that? . . . was in advertising.
Dinner was early, at 7:30 – and in the city, too. Better hurry. There was one piece of extra business to attend to. Chris pulled a small package out of his backpack – a Fleet enema. Just in case. Doing this in a dorm wasn’t ideal, which was why it was so important that Justin not be there. He would have to take it up his ass and hold it in his room, and then speed walk to the bathroom. Administering it in the shower, or in the stall, was ill-advised due to the risk of discovery. And he couldn’t have done it this morning, because its . . . practical effect . . . would have been over by the time it would have been useful.
The things we do for the merest hint of possible sex, he thought. Christ, I can’t wait until I have my own place.
Chris accomplished his mission without leaving a trail of spots on the carpet from his room to the toilet. Well done, you, he thought. You’re a champ.
Fuck, that’s what Justin had called him, when he had been feeling friendly.
Well, you’re going a great job, kiddo. Chris smiled. That’s what Mark called him sometimes.
Into the Jeep, heat on high against the November cold; drive, park, enter the restaurant.
And there was Mark, waiting for him. Impeccable in a trendy blue suit that matched his eyes. They kissed hello.
“You look great, kiddo,” Mark smiled.
“Thanks, you too . . . Sir.” Chris whispered the last word, feeling daring. Saying it gave him a hard-on.
Mark’s eyes lit up. This little fucker was so damned cute. And the kinky depths that lay within . . . Mark could only imagine. He sprang his own boner, and walked to the table awkwardly, having a lot more to conceal than Chris.
Dinner was a dream. Great food, and the waiter benevolently didn’t ask Chris for ID before bringing him a Manhattan. Chris had always wanted to try one, and had been trained a bit by shots of Justin’s Knob Creek, of which there was always a steady supply in their room.
“Do you want dessert,” Mark asked?
“I’ve eaten enough to feed a terracotta army.”
Mark rolled his eyes, but kindly. Chris was a history major, and his attempts at humor were so endearing. He made jokes a man three times his age might have found funny.
“Me too. Let’s take a walk.”
“Ok,” Chris agreed, buzzed from the bourbon, and eager to be alone with his older, studly . . . not quite boyfriend.
Mark paid the bill and they collected their coats.
“This way.” Mark pulled Chris’ arm into the crook of his own, and steered them past brownstones and storefronts.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see, boy.”
Chris immediately popped a woody at the magic word. It was interesting how Justin’s use of the word “boy” and Mark’s differed; they both made Chris hard, but he felt no apprehension when Mark said it, only delighted anticipation. When Justin said it . . . shit, when Justin said anything . . . he always felt an undercurrent of fear.
You miss that fear, a drunken and wildly inappropriate inner voice said to Chris.
Fuck you, I don’t miss it at ALL! That was some bad shit.
You thought it was hot most of the time.
I didn’t know any better. Imagine doing the same things with Mark, who actually likes me.
Well, can’t argue with that . . . if it happens. Chris inner doubter retreated for the moment, leaving a charming trail of low-grade anxiety behind him.
They were passing yet another restaurant Mark loved. He was very into food, although you couldn’t tell it by looking at him. He didn’t have a 6-pack, but he sure wasn’t overweight. Chris didn’t find the subject all that interesting, and wondered where they were going. He had GPS’ed his way to the Asian place, and didn’t have much context for where they were in the city. Mark continued to steer him . . . straight for many blocks, a turn here and there . . . their arms remained linked, and Chris felt wonderfully at peace with this man. With this man who knew where the fuck he was, and who apparently had some kind of plan that involved walking for nearly 20 minutes now in dress shoes. Our socks are probably really Adapazarı Escort ripe by now, Chris thought idly.
“. . . and this place is a total dive, but they have the best curry in the city. We take clients here all the time.”
“Where are we going,” Chris asked again plaintively.
Chris looked up quizzically. He laughed. They were in front of Mark’s condo.
“But I left my car back at the restaurant!”
“You can get it later, boy,” Mark growled. “Care to come up?”
“The elevator is broken, I’m sorry, boy.”
Chris practically galloped up the stairs. Mark followed, happy to gaze at Chris’ round glutes flexing in his slacks. In fact, the elevator was working just fine, but Mark had wanted a view, and for them both to continue working up a sweat, in case the half-hour walk hadn’t been enough. Chris was not the only one who was aware of the potential effect of their exercise on their feet. And other parts.
Mark paused before the door.
“Thanks for coming to dinner with me, Chris.”
“Of course, Sir! It was great.” Chris was confused. Was this the end of their date?
“If you come in now, you’re going to be following my orders until you leave. Is that understood?”
FUCK. Chris wanted to cum in his pants right then. Fuck YEAH it was understood. The walk had invigorated and energized him, but not sobered him up; the Manhattans had done their work. Again his mind flashed momentarily to Justin, and was struck by the difference that trust made in this kind of situation. Chris was eager to serve Mark, to do his bidding, to follow his orders, because he knew deep down that Mark would take care of him, like he had the first time they had met. Shit, he was ready for almost anything. If Mark had wanted to fist him in the foyer, he would have seriously considered it.
Mark smiled. “Good boy.”
They walked into Mark’s condo.
Chris was made to strip just inside the door, and he humbly followed his older stud into the living room. Mark turned the gas fireplace on, and sat on the leather couch. He pointed at his feet.
Taking the cue, Chris knelt in front of him, and carefully removed his expensive shoes. He sniffed the insides of each one deeply. Leather and foot sweat. Fucking heaven. He took turns massaging each foot and sniffing the toes, the balls of the feet, and the heels. Interesting. Justin’s hottest sweat smell accumulated between the balls of his feet and his toes. On Mark, the smell that made Chris the hardest was at the heel. He spent extra time running his tongue over that spot, slurping all the juice he could from Mark’s socks, and then from his bare feet.
Mark purred and moaned with pleasure, and eventually raised his naked boy so he was kneeling on the couch. Mark kissed his boy passionately. This was new for Chris – he had never worshipped Mark’s feet before, and hadn’t expected that Mark would want to kiss him afterward. Justin certainly would never have kissed Chris after he had worshipped any of the jock’s stink.
Well, Justin would never have kissed Chris anyway, so that was hardly a distinction.
Mark toyed with Chris’ small cock. Chris grunted. Then he gasped – Mark had squeezed his balls. Justin did that too, but kissing your Dom at the same time really made a difference. It became so much hotter.
Mark slid his hands under Chris’ armpits and lifted him to his feet.
“Take my clothes off, boy.”
Chris complied, first removing Mark’s jacket, and then his tie. He unbuttoned the expensive dress shirt, and pulled it off. Then the pants. Mark’s feet were already bare. Chris removed Mark’s t-shirt, taking advantage of his raised arms to put his nose in his armpits.
“I didn’t wear deodorant today, boy. For you.”
Chris humped Mark’s leg in gratitude as he buried his face in Mark’s hairy pit. Equal attention to both sides, that was key. By the time Chris was done, there was no more sweat left in the dense hair – it had all been licked out.
Finally Mark’s boxer briefs. There was a healthy scent rising from these too, and when Chris released his Dom’s equipment, a heady odor of crotch sweat filled the room.
“Get it nice and wet, boy.” Chris happily obeyed, wasting little time on licking the shaft, but moistening his mouth and going down right away. He swallowed the 9-inch dick to the hilt on the fifth try. He had learned to relax his throat with Justin. The training had paid off – he barely gagged on Mark’s hard, throbbing cock. Chris pulled the foreskin back and took a few moments to enjoy the taste of the head. Then he went back to deep-throating his Dom’s meat.
Mark groaned. He grabbed Chris’ head and pumped a few times, then pulled out.
“Come with me.” He took Chris by the arm and led him to the bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and pulled Chris to his side.
“You realize you’ve been very bad, young Serdivan Escort man.”
Chris momentarily felt queasy. Mason had called him ‘young man’ as he whipped him with a belt. He wanted to take anything Mark wanted to dish out, but finally began to be afraid. His introduction to spanking had been harsh, to say the least.
Even though they had only met four times, Mark immediately sensed Chris’ fear. He made a mental adjustment; his end game was the same, but he could change the route to it.
“And you know what happens to very bad boys, don’t you boy?”
Chris felt the familiar hand on his jaw. All the guys he had been with had grabbed his face like that. He followed the motion without resisting. But this time, the eyes he was forced to look at were amused and benevolent, as well as horny.
“They get a finger up their butt.”
Chris’ four-and-a-half inch dick sprang up again. Oh man, he had really wanted this. He had even prepped for it. Mark leapt off the bed, grabbed Chris by the waist, lifted him up, and gently tossed him down to the bed so that he was lying on his stomach. Mark reached into the nightstand for lube.
“You may feel a slight pinch.”
Chris almost giggled with relief. This was going to be fun.
Mark slapped Chris’ knees gently, and the boy opened his legs, obediently arching his back a bit to stick his butt up.
Admiring the view, Mark grabbed a small bottle of lube from the nightstand, and began massaging Chris’ pink, still pretty hairless pucker. He lubed it until it was nice and slippery, and then began teasing the boy with a finger, gently probing, not too far, not even past the sphincter, just around the edge. Soon Chris was moaning and panting like a bitch in a porn video. He began bucking his hips in little thrusts, so horny for a finger besides his own in his ass. Finally, it slid in. It was a wonderful feeling, and Mark’s cock started to bounce up and down as he contemplated what was to come.
Never stopping his motion, Chris impaled himself on Mark’s middle finger, so horny he was doing most of the work. Mark smiled in approval.
“Good boy,” he growled. He poured more lube on Chris’ hole, and started working a second finger in.
“Oooooo,” Chris groaned. This was definitely more of a challenge. He stopped bucking and relaxed his sphincter, like he’d read about online. Mark took the hint and slowly pushed both fingers all the way in, then stopped. He leaned forward to lie close to Chris, and tousled his head with his free hand; Chris tilted his face to the left, and Mark kissed his urgent lips. Chris put his arm around his new Dom and kneaded his muscles, his eyes closed in lust. Mark started moving his fingers in and out of Chris’ hole, in and out. Chris discovered the aching feeling of going from a stretched pussy to an empty one for the first time . . . fuck, he wanted Mark back in him. He pushed back on Mark’s hand again, and the older man slipped a third finger in.
Again Mark stopped when he was in all the way, and waited patiently for Chris to catch up. When the urgency returned to his kisses, he moved his fingers back and forth, in and out, stretching Chris’ virgin hole to be able to accommodate what was truly an enormous dick for anyone; for a first fuck, it was pretty intimidating.
Plop. Mark vacated Chris hole and wiped his hands on a towel.
“Awww,” Chris pouted. “I liked that.”
“You’re going to like this even better, boy.” Mark rolled Chris over onto his back, raised his legs, and put a towel under his hot, round ass, and now very pink hole. This one is going to want eye contact, he guessed. And I do too, he added as an afterthought.
He poured a generous amount of lube on his rock-hard, 9-inch, uncut dick, and jacked it a few times.
Chris’ eyes widened. This was it. The moment. They had been sexting so frequently that they had already had plenty of conversations about whether to fuck protected or not; they both felt very comfortable that they didn’t need to be using a condom. Chris held his breath in anticipation.
Mark leaned over him and kissed his mouth again, gently, sweetly. He whispered in Chris’ ear.
“I’m going to fuck you now, boy. I’m going to fuck you like you’ve been wanting to get fucked for months. I’m going to stick my big dick in your hole and own it, and you’re gonna fuckin’ love it, boy.”
Chris was so turned on he was afraid he would explode without touching himself.
“Yes, SIR!” he moaned.
Mark put his dick firmly on Chris’ hole and kissed him again, hard and passionately. Chris raised his legs above his head, so eager to have his man inside him. This was the pinnacle, the event he’d been fantasizing about. He felt Mark’s stiff cockhead move forward a centimeter. He willed his hole to stretch, and he concentrated on relaxing. Again a small poke; again relaxing.
Mark’s brow furrowed as he exercised maximum control. Bit by bit, he slid his head into Chris, never pulling back, but moving excruciatingly slowly, working with his boy, feeling him respond. Chris screwed his face up in pain at the thickest part of Mark’s dickhead, and Mark pushed gently forward until the flare was past the boy’s sphincter.
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