Quick escape

“Can I help you?” the woman asks, as I hover near the bathroom trying to take a picture of the door.

“I’m good, thanks,” I say, face turning beet red. She harrumphs as I go into the bathroom to escape her.

I’m in the arts building, second floor, amid a maze of hallways and administrative offices. I’ve been trying to track down this 19yo student. For the past 15 minutes I’ve been wandering around, trying to figure out where he is, sending him pictures of where I am and getting back directions. It would help if there weren’t four arts wings.

https://classfind.com/western/small/university19.jpg

“I’m at the elevator, near the bathroom,” he texts.

“I’m in a bathroom,” I text back, and step back waiting for the door to open.

He comes in with his backpack. He’s hot. Caucasian, with spiked hair, glasses, and an attempt at a beard, he strides in and smiles. I motion for us to go to the one stall in the bathroom. It’s risky here, but he said he’d seen only about three students on the whole floor. 

It’s exam time, that magical time when all the guys are stressed and horny. Moreover, roommates are moving out, leaving them suddenly able to host too. This guy, Trey, has an exam at three o’clock, two hours from now, so we will probably be quick.

We squeeze into the stall and place our backpacks around the sides. I sit down on the toilet and it automatically flushes, sending a cool mist onto the back of my jeans. 

Trey pulls down his jeans and pops out his thick cut cock. My eyes widen as I look up to him and he smiles. I lean over and slowly lick it, and hear him gasp. I let it slip past my lips into my mouth, then reach around and grasp his warm buttocks, pulling him toward me. My nose is buried in his pubes and I can smell his fabric softener. His hand reaches down and I let him grip himself again while I lick his balls.

He’s stroking himself furiously and I keep licking his nuts, but nothing is happening. “Its cause I’m used to laying down,” he says. “Can you come to my place? Its just across the road.”

Sure I can. We step out of the stall and he washes his hands. Are you okay with us walking together? I ask.

“Of course,” he says. “But we should probably go out separately.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs.” I move to the door, but it opens and a bald man in a golf shirt walks in. I nod to the man and walk out, and take the elevator down and wait by the door.

Soon, we are walking together. “I’m sorry about this,” he says.

“No worries. It’s actually more exciting this way. You know, all of this is part of the adventure. It’s why I do this.” The other students don’t pay much attention to us as we cross the street. His house is old, one of the few that has not been knocked down for student apartments. It probably won’t be there next year. He goes in first to check for roommates and I wait outside. 

Finally he opens the door for me and I take my shoes off and leave them at the base of the steps. “There’s no-one else here,” he says. “We can be as loud as we want.” He leads me through the kitchen to the hallway. One room, not his, has an open door, and the room is empty and the mattress stripped. A roommate already moved out. We continue into his room, the smallest one. The floor is littered with clothes, and there are $100 headphones and a Macbook on the ground beside my feet. 

A messy student room

‘Yeah its messy,” he says, as he takes off his shirt and pants. I do the same, stripping down to my underwear, and piling my clothes on the laptop, as there is no other open space. Hes in bed, waiting, and I get in beside him. Immediately, he places his lips on mine and I close my eyes as I feel his tongue searching my mouth. Soon we are deep in an open-mouthed kiss and I feel the bed vibrating as he jerks his thick cock. He presses against my head and I take the hint and move down to it, finally sucking it into my mouth. I hear him gasp and I hold my breath and suck on it the way he likes. 

Suddenly we hear a female voice, on the other side of the door and his whole body tenses.

“Yeah,” he shouts. “Just a minute, I was just napping.” We both spring out of bed.

“Sorry they weren’t supposed to be here!” he says, quickly pulling on his pants again. 

“No worries,” I tell him. I quickly look around, then I get into the closet.

I hear him open the door. He talks for a moment, then closes it. Sensing it is safe, I step out again.

He looks down at the package in his hands. “I don’t even know what this is.”

I watch as he rips open the package. “Oh, that’s it. Makes sense.” It’s a box, a pair of ear pads for his headphones. He throws them on the bed and then looks up at me. “We have to be quiet now,” he says. “I’m not supposed to have anyone over, and her mom is here. Fuck.”

“OK. I can be quiet,” I whisper. He gets back onto the bed, sitting up and spreads his legs open. I kneel down. Its soft now, but as I suck I feel him spring to life.

“I want to suck you too,” he says.

“Not necessary,” I tell him.

“I know. But I want to. It’ll help.”

I quickly slide off my PUMP underwear (Varsity Free-fit boxer, $24) and toss them onto the floor.

He taps me, impatiently. “Bring your knees over here,” he says. 

I straddle his face, and I feel the warm wetness engulf me. From this angle, I can bounce the bed, making the springs do the work and soon I have his pelvis bouncing on its own, making him fuck my mouth. At the same time, I feel him stroking my dick, pulling me downwards, so I oblige and plunge my dick into his soft, welcoming mouth.

As soon as I do this, I hear him gasping, so I bounce him and face-fuck him harder. I feel his lips close against my dick, sucking me, as he tries to stifle his moans.

“I gah—” I hear him stutter as I plunge my dick further into his mouth, bouncing the bed-springs faster, letting the bed force him in and out of my suction filled mouth.

Did I taste it?

I slow down, just in case. Yup, his cock is starting to deflate now, and I stop moving, letting it spew out the last of his cum on its own into my waiting mouth. Finally, I swallow it and lick my lips, then spin myself around so I’m on top of him. I liked his kisses, so I lower my face toward him and see his eyes go wide.

“Are you gonna–” he says. 

“What?” I stop immediately.

“I don’t like the taste of it,” he says.

I smile at him. “No problem. I had fun,” I tell him.

He gets up and we quickly get dressed. “I didn’t expect her mom to be here. If she finds out there’s another guy here, she’s gonna kill me,” he says.

“Why don’t you check if the coast is clear?”

He nods, and leaves the doors slightly open. I watch as he slowly walks down the hallway and through the kitchen. He looks back at me and I wait for him to give the OK signal. Instead, he turns and disappears down the stairs. 

When he comes back to the room, he closes the door again. “I’m sorry. They’re in the driveway.”

“Alright. We can wait a bit,” I say softly. I look over at the window. It is made of wood and looks like it hasn’t been open in decades. I can see the grass, one story below.

He sees me looking and brightens. “We have a fire escape!” he exclaims. He turns and rushes from the room, beckoning me to follow. A door in the kitchen leads to a dark staircase going up. “It leads to the roof, and then the backyard,” he says.

“I just need my shoes…” I say, gazing at where I came in. He takes a deep breath, and then goes down the stairs. At the bottom, he crouches down below the window in the door, comes back up with my shoes.

“Thanks,” I tell him,  bending down to put them on.

“Oooohhhh,” he sighs. “I forgot, you can just take this back door.”  He pushes aside the kitchen table, revealing a door. He tugs on it and there is a ripping sound as the paint loosens, and then we feel the cool air from the outside. 

“That’s a relief,” I say. There are stairs leading to the backyard, which is not fenced and opens out onto a park, and the university’s football field.

“Sorry again,” he says. “She wasn’t supposed to be home today.”

“Don’t worry. It’s all part of the adventure.” With that, I walk straight out the door, down the steps and out of the backyard. 

I suck his dick again the next day.

Back in his room

At least this time, he answers the door himself. The young twink has scruffy black hair, neatly trimmed but he obviously just got out of bed. It’s only 11 in the morning. We were supposed to meet yesterday. I waited for his message, parked nearby in the Food Basic’s parking lot for 45 minutes before I gave up. Later he texted that he had slept in.

I’m giving him another chance. He’s worth it.

He barely greets me, and as I crouch in the doorway to unlace my leather boots, he stands over me so I won’t run in and steal his stuff. We don’t say much because his mother’s in the kitchen a few steps away. I used grindr instead of knocking, so she doesn’t even know I’m there. She peeks out, drying a frying pan, and scolds my host for some misdemeanour another language. When she sees me she smiles in polite surprise.

“Good morning,” I said, beaming. “Strange weather lately, eh?” Don’t mind me. I’ll just be downstairs having sex with your son. Might be a while!

Last time I nearly bolted when his sister answered the door. Today I take it in stride. Maybe they know and maybe they don’t. Guys who are out with their families do things that would have shocked me just a few months ago. Everybody’s different. Especially this guy.

Still, I head for the door to the basement in two giant steps, eager to get away from his politely suspicious clan.

The bottom of the stairs are covered in heaps of clothes, vomited out by an old dryer.

“Ah, I see it’s laundry day.” I try to make conversation.

“Yeah, “ he replies. His mom shouts something after us.

He turns and hollers back up the stairs. “No, everything is in there, my pants are clean already!”

We navigate our way through the mess to his room, the only part of the basement that is clean. By clean, I mean free from shit you can trip over, not clean in the sense that the surfaces have been wiped in the past five years.

His room is dimly lit by a lamp on the shelf. Dark blue walls, except for a crudely painted graffiti figure. It watches over the desk where a very large bong rests. The plastic tubes in the contraption are stained brown from use and hard water.

He notices me staring at it. “Want some?” He asks.

I chuckle, “Nah, I tried weed before but it just makes me quiet.“

“Oh you’re one of those.

The bong quivers and I hear someone bounding down the stairs, singing.  I back into the corner, pressed against the wall like I’m furniture. Another young guy bounds into the room. Hot. A younger brother? Maybe a boarder?

He doesn’t notice me. He grabs the bong. “Eh?” He grunts and looks at my host.

“Take it.” he says, and the intruder leaves cradling his prize. My host closes the door after him, but it his does little to stop his loud singing. It’s not off key, but it’s nonsensical, as if he can’t remember every third word and makes them up as he goes. I wince at the noise, but my host ignores me. He’s swiping away on his silver iPhone. Suddenly the tinny sound of a top 40 song eeks out of its speakers, and the sound of the singing, bong-using boarder fades.

Still clicking at the phone, he slips one a finger under his pants and clumsily tries to pull them down. My heart races when he reveals the top of his public bone. But his finger stops there. He’s going to need two hands to get it over his boner, but he’s engrossed in checking his messages first.

With a lopsided grin, he finally throws the phone on the desk, runs his hands through his thick hair, and looks up at me.  But my eyes are locked on the tent in his pants.

“I really love you sucking my dick, “ he tells me. “Are you going to swallow again?”

I look him in the eye. “This time,” I tell him, “I want you to try to cum right down my throat.”

“I’ll do it,” he agrees.

Fat chance. I know he won’t reach, but it’ll spice it up a little. I take off my shirt for him and he steps out of his pants, nude.

His dick is ready, slightly curved, and  rapidly emerging from its in delicious tan foreskin.  He’s his balls are closely shaved. Only a small trapezoid of artfully trimmed fuzz sits atop its base. He falls back on the bed, resting on his elbows.

I bend down and lick his balls. The skin of his sack is smooth as plastic. I lick up and around and suck in his musky scent, slowly making my way up his mast. By the time I get there his soft pink glans is throbbing and he stares at me with a look like he got a new toy and can’t quite believe it’s real.

But I refused to mouth it yet. I only came back for one reason. “I want you to face fuck me. Like last time.” I climb up the bed beside him, prop myself up with a pillow.

“Ha! I love that.” He gets up and towers over me, one knee on other side. With his hand on his cock he guides it into my waiting lips. I feel it slide up against the back of my mouth. I close my mouth and suck on it lightly, tasting the delicious salty flavour of the first lick. Then his hands go to my shoulders and he starts to thrust at me. The bed strains and squeaks. But something’s different. Each time I see his belly come at me, he gets a little harder, until unexpectedly, he slides past my tonsils and cuts off my breath. Fuck, I wasn’t expecting this. Last time he couldn’t even reach.

His body is hot now, sweaty, and as I begin to smell the scent wafting down from his armpits, my cock is raging hard in my pants. But too soon, he stops and slowly lowers his butt onto the bed beside me.

“Holy fuck you got bigger,” I tell him in amazement.

“Oh, really? Thanks.” He props his cock up and flexes, examining it proudly. Then he aims it at me, waiting.

I prepare for a long haul. Last time it took over half an hour and I got tired. I was hoping to have him do the work. I’m not looking forward to getting a sore neck again. I take a deep breath, lie between his legs, and wrap my mouth around his dick.

I give him everything. I suck in a breath and plunge down to his bone, come back up, and suck as I massage his cock with my tongue. Maybe he’ll only take twenty minutes this time.

A few seconds later he grabs my shoulders. I stop and suddenly he’s grunting and thrusting upwards frantically on his own. His twink butt grinds into the bed as he twists himself up into my face. When I try to get a quick breath, the fucker jams himself so far down my throat that I once again my airway’s cut off. I wait helplessly as he tenses up, gives one last quick jerk, and explodes. I can only stare at the base, cross-eyed, as it rhythmically pulses, literally pumping out his load. I stop counting after six. I can’t taste a thing. I can only imagine each spurt splashing against the back of my throat, oozing down on its own time.

When he’s done, I keep sucking, trying to eek out what remains of his delicious flavour, while he sits up, watching and grinning at me. But I’ve overstayed my welcome. He’s done with me now, and itching to get back to his phone, or his bong, or whatever else he does, so I reluctantly release his member.

“We definitely have to do this again,” he tells me, nose down in his iPhone.

“For sure.” I know I’m being used and I love it.

When we’re finally dressed, he sees me out so I won’t take his stuff.

Lost stories: Basement room

When a short fat woman answers the door, my heart jumps into my throat. The address, 15, is right there in front of me. I had checked it six times already.

“Sorry, is this 51 Elviage Road?” I stutter, staring at the house number. “I’m sorry, I must be in the wrong place.” Before she can answer, I flee, dashing down the walkway back to my car.

As I’m fumbling with my keys, I look up and see a young man slowly walking toward me in a hoodie, hands stuffed in his pockets. Shit, that’s him. I turn around and greet him. “Hey man, sorry, I’m not used to other people being around when… uh,”

“That’s just my sister,” he tells me. “You wanna come in?”

She’s busy in the kitchen now, dumping bricks of Mr. Noodle into a pot, and she pays no attention to us as we go into the basement. Downstairs is partially finished. Piles of boxes lean against the rafters, barely covering the pink insulation in the walls. He opens a door and we enter his room. Somehow, a bed and a desk have been stuffed into this tiny space. A plastic bong, now dried and tarnished with brown scum, sits on his desk amongst some old dishes.

He jumps up on the bed and casually lays back. “So you really wanna suck my dick?” he asks.

“Yeah I do.”

“OK then.” He stretches his arms up and lifts off the hoodie, showing me his skinny twink chest. Then he kicks his track pants off onto the floor and he’s nude.

I look into his eyes, lean down and flick my tongue at his flaccid dick. Not getting a reaction, I suck the whole thing into my mouth, rolling and squeezing it. He throws his arms out to the side, squirms, and melts into the pillow as I feel him begin to stiffen.

The ceiling creaks as footsteps pound through the house. What does she think we’re doing down here? I wonder.

Minutes pass. He seems to be enjoying it, but it’s taking too long even for my well practised jaw. I hide it as long as I can, then I slip off with a slurp.

“Is there anything I can do differently?” I ask.

He gazes down at me, eyes narrow, hands behind his head and considers it. “Can I fuck your face?” he asks. He suddenly looks sheepish. “It’s okay if not.”

“Sure, that could be fun,” I tell him, as I rub my sore jaw with one hand. It’d give me a break at least. We switch places. I lay on the pillow, head up against the wall, and I strip off my own clothes. I catch a glimpse of his ass before he turns around. It’s beautiful and despite myself I feel blood rushing into my penis. Maybe I’m a top. How do you decide these things, anyway?

And then he crouches down, face and hands against the wall like spiderman, and jabs his penis into my cheek. I open up and after a few more pokes he manages to get it in.

I lay back, eyes wide open, drinking in the compelling sight above me. The bed squeaks and moves further from the wall with each thrust. I feel his heat coming off his body, and stare into his taught belly. I can see his ribs, and two tiny red zits.

I feel my own passion coming alive. I haven’t even touched my penis, but now it’s laying over my belly button like a toppled tree. I grab it and hold it in the air, pointing at the ceiling. I feel like I could burst at any moment. I close my mouth around him and suck, and hear the squishes, sounding like wet whale kisses as he fucks my face hole.

I can see the wiry hairs under his arms, and his scent wafts down to me, and I get a very odd feeling. I feel wetness on my chest and suddenly realize with excitement that hot syrupy globs are gushing out of me unbidden. I’m cumming hands-free! I can’t see anything except his thrusting belly. He doesn’t stop, but I’m sure some must have landed on his back. I run my hand over my abs, massaging the warm slickness into my skin.

A toilet flushes upstairs, and pipes gurgle around us. The hair on my belly is already drying and clumping together he finally pauses, pulls out, and squats down over my chest.

“Sorry guy, I don’t know what’s wrong,”

“That’s ok. Take your time.”

He starts to jerk off, I feel his balls slapping against my chest. I raise my knees up to his back, and he leans on them, bum pressed against my drying cum. His eyes are closed, concentrating on some fleeting image inside his head. What’s he thinking, I wonder. Who is he fucking? Maybe he’s on campus. Maybe he is being fucked by his whole class. Or his prof. Or all of them at the same time. Maybe they’re taking turns fucking his ass and mouth.

It’s taking so long, I have to giggle. “At least I know I had no chance.”

“Yeah, ha,” he says, and his hands are a blur now, as he tries desperately to cum. The twerp probably jacked off before I got here or something. These young guys only think they can do anything, and be ready to go any time, but blowjobs are a different thing entirely. They’re a fucking art form, and I hate it when they’re wasted.

“OK I’m gonna cum now,” he says minutes later. He lifts off, some of my sticky chest hair still attached to his butt, and aims his cannon over my mouth. He’s still jerking furiously, knuckles hitting my chin, when a single jet of watery bitterness sprays onto my tastebuds. Exhausted, he slumps against the wall, while I lick my meagre reward from his hot, red, beaten penis.

I wriggle out, locate my clothes and slip them on quickly. I should wash up, but I don’t trust his bathroom to be clean enough to do so. I’m dry already anyway.

He’s sprawled out on the bed, heaving. He manages to lift his head and drowsily mutter his thanks before he falls asleep.

Upstairs his sister is sitting on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV, an empty pot in front of her. I don’t think she even saw me leave.