Chris Donaldson Ch. 07

The thrusts came relentlessly, but Chris was empowered now, and determined to taste, feel, and enjoy every part of his Dom's body within reach. Sensing that Justin was close to cumming, Chris grabbed the jocks pecs and squeezed hard. This was access he had never had. Then he seized Justin's head from both sides, and pulled him down for a kiss. Justin resisted, pumping his boy's ass and not wanting any distraction before his orgasm. But Chris wouldn't let go. He wrapped both forearms behind his roommate's head and pulled his face inexorably closer.

"Kiss me, Sir."

Justin pumped harder, fighting the pull of Chris' arms.

"Kiss me, you motherfucker!" Chris summoned strength he didn't know he had, and drew Justin's face closer. "Your cock feels amazing in my ass, Sir, you kissed me before, kiss me again NOW!"

For a brief moment, Justin gave up - everything. His previous notions of anal sex. His resistance to kissing. His fear of intimacy. He bent down, still thrusting like a maniac, and kissed Chris. And then he came. Hard.

"FUCCCKKKKKK!! CHRISSSYYYY!!" Chris pressed his cheek next to Justin's as the stud bellowed out his orgasm, and sank it deep into the boy's gut. When Justin stopped shouting, Chris kissed him again sweetly, and the jock spurted the remaining shots of his jizz into the sub's ass.

Justin came up for air, and looking on Chris' lustful face with tenderness, he spit into his hand and reached down to grab Chris' unimpressive but straining dick. Guessing what his boy needed, he left his thick cock deep in Chris' well-fucked hole, and leaned down to kiss his sub on the lips. That did it. Chris came after two pumps of Justin's meaty hand on his thin meat.

Fuck. FUCK!! Justin sank down on top of Chris, and let his sweaty mass crush his roommate. Chris didn't mind. He was happy to be smothered. Owned. Fucked. In this incredible bed, in this beautiful suite in the Four Seasons. For this moment, they were one.

After a few minutes of exhausted joy, Justin pulled his dick out of Chris' ass, and pulled the boy tight, spooning him. He drew the covers over their spent bodies. Neither of them wanted to disturb the moment by cleaning up. They were asleep in minutes. It had been a very long day for both of them.

******************

Justin woke first. He had slept fitfully. Carefully disentangling himself from Chris, he crawled out of the bed and retreated to the main room of the suite. He checked his phone. It was noon. He dressed quickly and left, telling the desk clerk that his friend would be staying another night. Just in case Chris needed it. Or Justin wanted to come back.

He blocked his conscience, which said, running away is what you do, isn't it?

Chris woke at 3, to an empty bed, a sore hole, and a puddle of semen on the sheet, which had emanated from said hole while he slept. He panicked. Where was he? Where was Justin? He saw his phone and grabbed it. The screen showed he had three texts and a voicemail. The first text was from Justin: "Don't worry, roomie. I had to run. Left you a VM."

Chris listened to the voice mail next.

"Hey Chrissy. I'm not deserting you. I have . . . um . . . obligations I gotta fulfill. You know, back up there on campus. I paid for another night in the room for you. You should stay here and relax. Enjoy your birthday. I'll come back when I can. Last night was amazing. All of it. Thanks for listening, Chrissy. And for . . . everything."

Chris fought the temptation to feel utterly rejected. He reviewed the events of the previous night. Now, in the cold light of day, he couldn't believe that Justin had been telling him the whole truth. Yes, it was now obvious that the fraternity hierarchy had rejected him. But was it really planned from the beginning? And if so, was Justin truly not in on it all? He was unbelievably tight with his brothers. How could he not have known what they were planning with his roommate? No, it had to be because of his performance with the other pledges last night. Chris had been proud of the fact that he had not gotten hard, despite putting his mouth on seven cocks, but maybe the rest of the fraternity had been turned off. Justin too. Sure, he was good enough to fuck, but not good enough to join SAE, not good enough to be drawn into the inner circle.

Paranoia and self-loathing set in.

He recalled Justin's story about Andy. Chris marveled at how quickly he had felt sympathy for Justin.

I just got kicked out of your frat, he thought, and then an hour later, I was making YOU feel better. I was practically apologizing for the fact that you beat me up last fall. And was it Andy who really didn't want to be gay? Or was that you? Because you sure don't want to be, but you sure as fuck are. And I don't know if you'll ever admit it.

And yet, Chris thought, I feel how deeply you were hurt by your past.

Unable to sort it out, Chris looked at his phone again.

The second text was from Mark. "Are you ok, kiddo? Worried about you."

The third text was from . . . Tag. Huh? His pledge dad? Wasn't that all over? He had failed. He had been discovered as a natural born cocksucker. What more was there to say? Did the rest of the brothers want to follow Justin's lead and fuck his ass before he retreated into obscurity?

It read: "Hey, Chris. Do you have time to meet for a quick coffee today? Before 6 is best. Tag."

Chris hobbled to the bathroom. He couldn't walk without feeling the effect of Justin's cock in his ass. My limping would be so much hotter if he were here to laugh at me, Chris thought ruefully. He used the toilet, and then showered, wondering if it was too late to have the soiled sheets changed. He didn't want to go back to the dorm tonight, and thought another night in the hotel suite might be a better option. But he didn't want to sleep in his own cum. And he suspected he might want the minibar refilled.

After his shower, he called housekeeping; yes, they could come up now. Thank God.

Chris texted Tag. Sure, I can meet you at 4:30/5. Where?"

Tag's response came quickly. "Meet me at Giorgio's at 5."

Giorgio's was a coffeehouse and club a mile off campus. It was not a college haunt. Tag apparently wanted this to be private.

Chris texted Justin. "Thanks for the extra night. I'm going to take it. Hope to see you . . ." Delete. "Would love to see you . . ." Delete. "Let me know if you're coming back."

Then: "I need you." Send it before you change your mind, he thought.

Fuck it. I do need him.

Chris retrieved his Jeep from the skeptical valet, and drove back north. He pulled up to Giorgio's and walked in. It was 4:55, but Tag was already there, waiting for him.

He stood up as Chris approached, and reached out a burly hand. Chris shook it, suddenly feeling lonely and empty.

"Want some coffee?" Tag asked.

"I'd rather have a Manhattan."

Tag's lip curled up in a half smile. "It's your birthday, right?"

Chris nodded.

Tag flagged the waiter.

"Hey, my friend here just turned . . . 21. Can he get a Manhattan?" He turned to Chris. "What kind of bourbon?"

"Knob Creek," Chris whispered.

"Up or on the rocks?"

Chris shrugged.

"Rocks," Tag ordered.

They paused.

"So," Tag said awkwardly.

Chris raised his head, and eyed his former pledge dad as neutrally and casually as he could.

"Chris . . ."

Another pause.

"Listen, man, I'm sure you're feeling . . . confused, or . . . bad right now."

Chris nodded again. His drink came, and he took a large swig. Yeah, ordering a cocktail was pretty gay, but he didn't have to pretend anymore.

"Chris, I . . ." Tag looked at the table. This was so fucking weird, but he had to do it. It wasn't fair not to. "Ok."

Chris looked up again, inquisitive but worn out.

"Here's the deal. The fraternity doesn't know I'm here."

Ah, more of the "you can't be seen with me" bullshit, Chris thought.

"But I had to tell you this. I know . . ." Tag paused awkwardly. "I know we weren't exactly tight. But I had a lot of . . . I HAVE a lot of respect for you, Chris."

Chris cocked his eyebrows in surprise.

"I didn't really get it at first, but over time you showed you were really SAE material. A lot of us felt that way. We really did." Tag looked Chris in the eye. "And we're really ashamed of how the house treated you. That wasn't right, what happened last night."

Chris looked down, embarrassed and humiliated.

"It wasn't right," Tag repeated. "If I had known that was coming, well, shit, I would have . . ." He paused, careful not to say too much. "I might have taken the opportunity to get you . . ." he stopped again, wary. "I'm just saying, I don't blame you for getting away. You did the right thing. Those guys had some bad shit planned for you, and none of us knew about it. None of us rank and file dudes. Not even me, and I was your fucking pledge dad."

Chris took another big swig of his Manhattan.

"I'm telling you this because I like you, Chris. But you know I can't change what happened."

Chris nodded again, numbly.

"I'm also telling you this because I don't want you to . . ." Tag paused again. Speaking from the heart was not his strong suit. "I don't want you to think this was all some game. The . . . person . . ."

Chris sighed, mortified. How much must they beat around the bush?

"Tag."

The beefy pledge dad stopped abruptly, surprised to be interrupted.

"Just say what you mean. I'm not gonna break."

"Ha! No you won't, Mr. 158," Tag said, genuinely smiling for the first time.

Chris wanted to cry. It was sweet of him to reference his best moment in the fraternity, but it was all over now.

"Listen." Chris jumped in his chair; Tag sounded like Justin. "I'm telling you this because the most important thing is that you . . . um . . . be you. You're a great guy. Just be yourself. You don't need us. You never did. You're not really . . ." Tag started to blush. "You're your own person, Chris. Just be that. You'll find your group. It wasn't us, although a lot of us would have been proud to have you, even though . . ."

Oh just fucking SAY it, Chris thought, and slugged most of the rest of his Manhattan.

"What I'm trying to say is, I found out a bunch of shit this morning. And I'm telling you that whatever the council told you is bullshit. They were against you. And the rest of us didn't know. It's already brushed under the rug. You don't argue up there, you probably already know that. But I'm sorry. I'm sorry you went through all of it. You did good. And you'll do even better on your own, with your own . . . circle. Just be you, Chris. That's more than good enough."

Tag, at the end of his ability to communicate and empathize, got up. Chris rose too, but Tag waved him back down.

"Finish your drink, Mr. 158. You deserve it. I'm going to pay and get back to . . . anyway . . . Happy Birthday," he finished lamely.

"You don't have to pay, Tag," Chris protested, but the tall and stocky jock stuck out his hand.

"It's the least I could do."

Chris shook his hand, and sat back down to finish the drink.

He stayed at Giorgio's a few minutes longer, until he was sure Tag had pulled out of the parking lot, and then left himself, a bit buzzed. He drove too fast back the hotel. He wasn't sure where else to go, and decided just to keep vigil until Justin showed up.

The suite was pristine when he returned, and he curled up on the balcony again, this time able to enjoy the view of the city skyline close to sunset. He sipped some more bourbon from the minibar, which had been replenished. He tried not to check his phone more than once every five minutes. This was torture.

He didn't have to wait that long for salvation. Justin's text came at 6:40.

"Hey roomie, where are you?"

"The hotel."

"In the room?"

"Yes Sir."

"Stay right there. I'll be there in 20 min."

Thank God, Chris thought. His conversation with Tag had been terribly uncomfortable and pretty depressing, but it had also reassured him about Justin's actions the night before. Justin was not in on it. Justin was not the villain. Justin's openness had been real, and fuck - the sex had been amazing. This might still all work out. Somehow.

Chris went back to the minibar and poured two more bourbons over ice - whoever had restocked the bar had put in extra Bulleit, guessing correctly what Chris might consume this evening. He took both glasses back out the balcony, and waited.

The sound of a key card sliding into the lock made Chris' heart leap. He closed his eyes, feeling the last rays of the sun on his face, and anticipating a pair of hands on his shoulders . . . which descended a few seconds later.

"You're back!" Chris said, and turned.

Justin smiled. "Were you worried, roomie?"

"No," Chris lied. "Just hoped it wasn't too bad a day. I poured you some bourbon."

"Good boy," Justin purred, and mussed his hair. He took the glass but did not sit down.

"Have a seat, Sir, the sun's going down. It's pretty."

"You're pretty, Chrissy," Justin replied, but remained standing. "I'm good."

"Aw come on, let's have my birthday drink together. It's almost over."

Justin smiled ruefully, and chuckled. "Well, you're gonna find out sooner or later, so here it is." He turned around and unbuckled his jeans, pulling them with his boxers down to his knees. Across his ass, Chris saw an orderly stack of angry red welts laid out. "I'm not gonna be sitting for a while, Chrissy."

Chris gasped. "Who . . .? Mason?"

Justin pulled up his pants, wincing, and nodded. "Come and lie down, and I'll tell you," he purred sexily.

They walked through the living room to the bedroom, and reclined on the bed, Justin folding Chris into his arms in their (now suddenly) usual position.

"So I got back to the house around 1. Just wanted to poke my head in, didn't want to stay, but figured I couldn't be totally absent today. One of the brothers told me Mason wanted to see me. So I looked around for him, but he wasn't here. Then I got a call - he was back at the dorm, and insisted I come down and see him. So I did. And we . . . talked, in his room. I gotta admit, he was a little bit careful. He's not stupid, he knows exactly what must have happened. But he talked around it."

Justin paused and sipped his drink.

"Basically, he just told me that it had 'come to his attention that I might be involved in a serious breach of fraternity decorum and secrecy.' I just kept staring at him, not saying a word. I let him flounder. He wanted me to confess to something, and I just sat there. Eventually, he switched tacks. He told me that running away like you did was a serious offense, and that even though you were no longer in consideration for membership, you had not de-pledged through proper channels in a mature way, and that you would have to answer for that in some fashion.

So I said, 'what, are you going to whip him again?' And he just smirked. So I told him that if he laid a fuckin' finger on you I was going to out him as a pervert to the whole house, and confirm everything he had done to you, and make sure I found out who else he had fucked with. And wouldn't that be a nice way to end his senior year, in disgrace."

Chris flushed, both with embarrassment at the reminder of his encounters with Mason, and with pleasure that Justin had stuck up for him.

"But he said, 'someone must be held accountable. Someone must atone.'"

You do his voice pretty well, Chris thought, smiling.

"And so I said, 'Fine. If you need to get your jollies by whipping someone's bare ass, here's mine.' And I yanked down my pants and stood there bareassed, daring him to do something. And well . . . that was a mistake," Justin laughed. "He took me into that little room behind his closet, bent me over some bench he has, and took out a cane. We 'discussed' what would make this right. And we settled on 24 strokes. So there they are, roomie, your price is paid. You're free." Justin kissed Chris's hair.

"I guess that makes me Becky Thatcher, huh," Chris smiled, completely won over.

"Who?"

"It's from Tom Sawyer, dumbass. He did the same thing you did." Chris turned around and kissed Justin in gratitude; the jock smiled and kissed him back, hard.

"So now can you rub some lotion on it, roomie?"

"Of course." Chris jumped up from the bed, and got a bottle from the bathroom.

"Your ass is gonna smell like lemon verbena, Sir."

"I hope you like that flavor, boy, cuz it's gonna be all over your face when you get down there and lick it," Justin growled, grinning.

"I can't wait, Sir," Chris replied, and flipped Justin on his stomach, rubbing lotion onto his hands first to warm it, and then onto Justin's striped butt. "Man, that must hurt, Sir."

"Don't worry, Chrissy, yours is coming. But from me, not that asshole."

"Yes Sir!"

After he had salved Justin's sore behind, he lowered his head and sniffed eagerly at his roommate's hot crack. As always, the scent gave Chris an instant boner. He tongued and licked Justin's hole, making his Dom groan in pleasure. After a few minutes, Justin turned over and grabbed Chris' arm pulling him up so that he was sitting straddling Justin's thighs.

"Where'd you put that lube, roomie?"

"It's in the night stand, Sir, but my hole is really sore, and I . . ."

"Shhh. I'll be gentle. And you got me worked up so I'll shoot quick. Now suck my cock to get it ready, boy."

Chris obeyed, nervous but thrilled to be penetrated twice in 24 hours by the man he admired and loved. Justin was already rock hard, and a few licks and some quick deep throat action was all it took to get the precum moving. Justin moved his roommate's head out of the way, and lathered up his dick with Astroglide.

"This'll be great, Chrissy, just sit on it nice and easy. Your pace. No rush. Just take as much of it as you can." He helped Chris rise up off his lap, and supported him as the boy gently tried to take the dickhead in his sore hole.

Fuck, that hurts, Chris thought, but he wanted to do it. He wanted to prove to Justin that he wasn't a wimp. He shut his eyes tight, and very, very, slowly, lowered himself so that the head slid in past his sphincter with a wet PLOP.

"Oooohh," he moaned. Yeah, it hurt, but he was still kind of loose from the previous night. He sank down further. Once the initial pain subsided, it felt amazing - like he was back where he belonged, and the time off Justin's cock had been an unexcused absence. He pumped slowly up and down, impaling himself over and over again.

"That's all you, Chrissy, I'm not moving," Justin groaned. "Fuck that's awesome boy, you're . . . a . . . FUCKING . . ." Chris picked up the tempo. "CHAMPP!!"

Chris was riding Justin's cock like he was at a rodeo, and it didn't take long to bring the athletic stud over the edge. Soon, Chris felt a hot shot of goo in his rectum, and smiled as Justin let out a yowl from deep inside his gut.

"FUCKKK YEAHHHH!!" Justin's impressive load started to dribble out of Chris' boy hole, as Chris sat down firmly and ground every last inch into his aching ass. Justin played with the boy's half hard weiner, but Chris grabbed his hand.

"Please Sir, I'd like to shoot with your ass in my face."

"You got it, boy."

Chris pulled slowly off of Justin's dick, and the massive meat eased out with a loud farting noise. They both laughed. Chris lay back on the bed, and Justin got up, towering over his roommate's smaller body. He knelt facing the headboard, knees planted on either side of Chris' head, and lowered his musky ass onto the boy's eager face.

Chris started tugging his little dick in earnest, first sticking his fingers in his ass for lube. In thirty seconds, he was there.

"Permission to shoot please, Sir!" he yelled into his Dom's meaty cheeks and asshole. Justin understood the muffled plea.

"Shoot, boy! Shoot your little pee pee."