I had literally creamed myself almost nightly for Phil's body, but Phil was about as straight as they come—and getting all the female tail he could handle if all the talk around campus was true. We were both attending the university on athletic scholarships—Phil on a football and baseball scholarship and me on a wrestling scholarship, wrestling being a good way for me to get down and dirty with other hot, sweating, muscular dudes. We roomed in the same suite, athletes being given separate bedrooms in a suite of eight rooms with a communal head and shower. And I had ached for three months into the school year, being able to see Phil's beautiful, cut body in the shower almost daily, but knowing that he would never take interest in another guy as long as he was being worn out by the campus cunts.
And then I got a gift from heaven. We were at lunch, when Phil was telling us about the physical exam he had to take before the baseball season and that they were doing full exams, including MRI's and colonoscopies—the exam where they send a tube with a camera all the way up into your intestines from your asshole to check for cancerous polyps. They were being required this year because some dude had dropped over dead on the baseball diamond last season.
Phil was being asked if he feared the colonoscopy, because having some tube running up your ass canal was no picnic. I was thinking that the dude just didn't understand what a picnic that really could be when I heard Phil answer that they were trying a new technique on the team. They were testing a fancier camera with a thicker-than-normal tube, and therefore were giving the guys medicine that really opened the canal up before the test and then giving them knockout drops during the test and for the night after the test so that they could sleep through most of the pain that accompanied and followed the procedure.
"So, there will be pain, but there won't be that much left after I've wakened the next morning," Phil was saying. "Personally, I think they only are forcing us to take the exam so they'll have healthy guinea pigs to see how the new equipment and procedure goes."
My tablemates droned on with a scatological discussion of having a thick tube going up your ass, but I tuned them out while my mind quickly formed a plan that would fulfill my dreams without Phil ever knowing what had happened to him.
The night of the day of Phil's exam, I took a long, hot shower while my suite mates were settling in for the night and then waited until four in the morning, breathing heavy, in anticipation of the pleasure that I hoped was to come.
All was quiet as I tiptoed from my room to Phil's. I was wearing my sleeping trunks and would have just sidestepped off into the head if anyone had caught me on the move. When I got to his door, I quickly looked around to make sure I wasn't being observed and then opened his door quietly and slipped in. His blinds were open, and the full moon lit up the room. I found him zonked on his bed, conveniently lying on top of his covers, completely nude. Boy was he a hunk. Built like the quarterback he was. Sturdily constructed, but with muscle. No fat on him, dark curly hair covering his pecs and meeting to descend in a thin line down across his belly and fanning out around his well-hung cock and big balls and then down, weaving around his strong thighs and calves.
I whispered to him, asking if he was awake, prepared with my excuse for waking him up in the middle of the night. Silence. I spoke to him in a louder tone. No response. I came over and sat down on his bed, putting my hand on his arm and speaking to him again, still posed with a good reason for disturbing him in the night if he woke. Nada.
My hand moved up his arm and onto his chest, stopping at one of his nipples, still within the zone of being able to excuse jostling him awake. I jostled him with my hand on his chest. Both hands on arms, I shook him hard. Nothing. He was stone cold out, just as he told us he would be.
I put one hand on his shoulder, almost at his neck and allowed the other hand to travel down his belly and into his pubic hair. Phil sighed in pleasure, but he didn't awake. I kept my eyes glued on his as I encased his dick in my hand and started to play with it. He licked his lips and moaned, but he remained asleep. Probably thought I was someone named Veronica, but not minding the attention I was giving him one bit.
I couldn't resist the lip licking. I put my lips to his, and he opened to my kiss. I stroked his cock as we kissed, and he responded by lengthening and thickening and moving his hips with the rhythm of my hands and giving deep-throated moaning for me. The intensity of his kiss told me that he was enjoying this.
I wondered if the Veronica he was wet dreaming about gave him blow jobs. I decided to find out, knowing, though, that this was pretty much a threshold beyond which I could give no plausible explanations if he suddenly awoke.
But, although his body was fully awake to my touch, Phil was not consciously in the room. I tongued my way around his nipples and down his belly and swallowed his cock whole, letting it engorge in my mouth as my lips pressed on the root of his shaft and my nose took in the welcome, manly smell of his pubes. My finger found his asshole as I stroked his cock off with my mouth, and, as advertised, I found the lasting effects of something that had widened his hole opening for that thick tube—and hopefully now for my thick tube. I hoped he was still feeling the effects of that all up his ass canal, because I didn't want him to feel suspiciously sore in the morning.
He ejaculated deep down my throat, still pleasantly living his wet dream with Veronica.
Time was a wasting, and I wanted to live my own dream before dawn—and certainly before Phil woke up—so I stripped off the sleeping trunks I'd come down the hall in, pumped my cock until it was hard, and rolled on the condom I'd brought with me. Getting my thighs under Phil's, I lifted his pelvis up to mine and only poised my dick head briefly at his hole before pushing in.
Phil grunted and twitched and his face contorted in pain as I slid into him, but he didn't awaken. When I was in all the way up to the hilt, aided no doubt by that medicine Phil had been given, I paused and rested, getting my own hard breathing under control. I couldn't believe it. I had my dong up beautiful, straight-jock Phil's ass. He was mine. He'd been had. He lay there stretched out below me, twitching and moaning quietly, but having taken all of me in. I began to pump him, and he moved with me. Could it be that he was receiving pleasure from this as well? I pulled his torso up to me and took his lips in mine. His responding kiss gave me hope that he was enjoying me as much as I was enjoying him. This thought was causing my cock to grow even bigger, and Phil's lips fell away from mine and he grunted in pain.
I let his torso drop back onto the bed and I took up his legs in my hands and wish-boned him farther apart, opening his ass passage up enough to accommodate my enlarged size. And then I just slowly pumped him and pumped him and pumped him, until I'd cum deep inside him. Then, almost regretfully, I pulled out of him, pulled my sleeping trunks back on, and retreated from his room to mine before anyone in the suite stirred.
The next morning, in the showers, a still-very-groggy Phil was complaining that his ass was still more sore from the exam than he had been led to believe it would be, but he showed no inkling of knowing his ass was no longer virginal—and certainly not that his ass was mine. I just hummed a tune and soaped myself off, trying not to relive my glorious fuck of Phil enough for my dick to respond for everyone in the shower to see.
I'd fulfilled my dream without doing any real harm to Phil that I could figure. I was just sorry to think that he probably wouldn't have to take another one of those colonoscopies for a good long while.
As we were leaving the showers, however, Phil pulled me aside and gave me a dreamy smile and a wink and said, just loud enough for only me to hear, "Of course, though, the exam was put off until next week, so we weren't zonked with that medicine last night. But no one but you and me need to know that, eh?"
"Uh, I'm sor . . ." I started to sputter.
But Phil just smiled again and said, "I wouldn't mind being zonked again tonight either."