Cupid's Big Weekend

On a Friday afternoon the hall is deserted. Everyone is either home for the weekend or already out making the rounds of house parties scattered around town. This being an athletic floor, it's even more unlikely that we'll run into anyone, as they tend to party harder than most. Ar the end of the hall, Calvin turns into the shower room.

As I figured, it is far nicer than the dilapidated old hose room in my dorm. Here, there are individual stalls with curtains for privacy. Calvin makes a beeline for the stall on the end, which bears a blue sign of a wheelchair. I look at him, puzzled.

"The handicapped stall is twice as big as the regular ones. And there's no one on this floor who uses it, so it's the cleanest one. Come on," he beckons to me.

I follow, into the first of two little rooms; this one has a bench, and a couple of hooks, and a curtain that Calvin pulls shut behind me. He then reaches into the inner room, and I hear the water start to run.

He looks at me. "Well?" he asks. "Are you going to get in? You need to take your clothes off first," he reminds me, like I'm a kindergartner.

"I'm not wearing my clothes," I remind him. "At least not the shirt." I whip it off over my head, and toss it at him. "Here, I might have gotten some water on it."

The shirt smacks him wetly on the chest, then slides to the floor. He glares at me, pretended to be affronted, and then he laughs. He takes his shirt off and throws it at me.

He reaches in and checks the water as he heel-toes his shoes off. "It's warm, come on."

For the second time today I see him hook his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and pull them off in one fluid motion. This will never get old, I decide. He jumps into the shower, and I hear him calling, "Josh, come on, the water's fine," in a sing-song voice.

Still unable to believe that this is happening, I pull off my shoes and shorts and then my underwear. Thank god I chose a pair that I don't mind him seeing! I've been meaning to get some new ones. I stand for a second, realizing suddenly that he's about to see me naked for the first time. I hesitate knowing how gangly and awkward I'm going to look next to him. I summon up my courage, and step in.

He's standing under the showerhead, eyes closed, enjoying the warm water running over him. I enjoy watching the warm water running over him. It's only been a few hours since I saw him do this after his workout, and now, this time, not only do I get to watch him, I don't even have to pretend that I'm not watching him. In fact, I get to be in the shower with him. Best day ever.

He opens his eyes, and sees me standing there, still shivering, naked as the day I was born. I'm expecting him to step aside and let me under the water, but instead he just opens his arms wide and motions for me to come to him. I do, of course I do. I stand in front of him, almost touching him, and his eyes never leave mine. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him, and for the first time I realize that we are exactly the same height. I guess I had put him on such a pedestal in my mind that I had made him taller than he actually is. But here we are, nose to nose, nipples to nipples, and cock to cock. I feel the contact all the way up and down my body.

I'm not shivering anymore. I tilt my head slightly to one side and kiss him, kiss him as he has kissed me, with the power and hunger of months passed in yearning. There has been a space in my life that I didn't know needed filling, and suddenly he's here to fill it. I wrap my arms around his neck, pull him even tighter to me, and time stops as the water pounds down on us and the kiss goes on forever.

Finally our lips break their clinch, and Calvin smiles broadly at me. For the first time today he seems genuinely happy.

"Feeling better?" he asks, sweetly.

"All warmed up," I reply. Warm indeed--I feel my penis rising steadily, pressing against him. Kissing does that to me, and this was nuclear-strength smooching.

He looks down at my erection, and seems surprised by his own. His thick cock is growing against me, pushing against my balls, lifting them as it rises. He pushes me gently away, letting our cocks spring free. He looks me up and down.

"You're ..." he pauses. Finally, he finishes: "Beautiful."

I blush, it feels like over my entire body. I've never considered myself particularly handsome, though I do work out and I spent my high school summers lifeguarding at the town pool. But I'm nothing compared to him. I stand in awe of his body, again, but this time I can touch it. I do. I reach out and touch my hands to his nipples, stroke them, brush my wet fingers over them. He rolls his eyes back in his head and sighs. His nipples stiffen, reaching out to me in return. I see goosebumps spread across those meaty pecs.

"You're going too fast!" he says as he snaps his eyes open. "Everything you do feels so good. Let's get scrubbing so we can get out of here."

Actually, I would be perfectly content to stay here all night. But he grabs the soap out of his shower kit, clearly intent on getting back to his room. I snatch the body wash from him and squeeze a big blop of it into my hand.

"All right, if you're in such a rush, let's get you nice and clean," I tell him. I rub the soap between my palms to build up some lather. I hope I don't come all over him as I do this. I don't think my dick has ever been this hard.

I start with his chest, smoothing the soap all over the mounds of muscle. It's firm, only slightly yielding to my ministrations, but I can tell that he's getting chills from being touched this way. I soap up his arms, and then I turn him around to work on his back. His broad, smooth, ridiculously muscled back is my canvas, and on it I paint a romantic scene in suds. I know he's waiting for me to stray into the Speedo zone, and so I skip over his perfectly rounded buttocks and soap up his legs instead. That done, I finally turn to his ass. I rub the soap over the lightly furred cheeks, feeling the power in those lovely globes of pure muscle. I venture into the cleft, soaping up his most hidden place, and when my fingers find his anus I lean forward to whisper in his ear.

"I think I found where to stick the gerbil."

He laughs and spins around and before me now dances the Holy Grail, the organ of my devotion. His prick is up and reaching for me, there must be 8 inches of it or more; it's no longer gracefully arched but now pointed like a missile at my face. Soon enough, my darling, soon enough.

I reach down and touch it, and its heat shocks me. He's burning up! The skin of his prick is smooth and soft, and is getting very clean as a result of my repeated strokes up and down its length. Then I reach one hand further down to his balls, and I clasp them in my palm--or try to, anyway, they are so large--and rub them gently. He's breathing somewhat raggedly now, and he's started chewing on my shoulder. I take this as a good sign.

"My turn!" he suddenly announces, and he grabs the body wash and squirts an enormous glob into his hand. He starts, as I did, with the chest, but his strong hands are instantly everywhere on my body. It's like he can't decide what to wash first, or perhaps he's just curious about what everything feels like.

"Oh my god, you're right. I had no idea another guy's body could be so different from mine," he marvels, shaking his head as he strokes me all over. He turns me around to wash my back, but his hands drop immediately to my ass, and then right up against my asshole. He fingers around it gently, as if worried that he might hurt me, but then gets a little bolder and rubs directly on the opening (which is closed tightly, as I've never been fucked and, as I told Calvin earlier, I'm not at all sure I ever want to be). He then spins me back around and pounces on my groin like an eagle on a chipmunk. I'm still painfully hard, but when he grips my cock for the first time I feel myself harden even more. He strokes up and down, touching for the first time a penis not his own. He looks up at me, his eyes wild with discovery.

"Dude, you didn't tell me that you're uncut!"

"That fact rarely comes up in conversation, particularly when I've just met someone."

"Awesome! What's it like to have that extra skin?"

"I don't know what it's like not to have it, so I can't really tell you. But you're welcome to explore it all you want."

And he does. He actually kneels in front of me to get a better view of how the skin moves up and down the shaft, covering the head of my cock even when I'm more boned up than I've ever been before. And then, without warning, he grabs my balls, with both hands. A little too energetically.

"Ooof," I say, bending over a bit. "Go easy there, big fella."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" He is clearly surprised by my reaction. "I'll try to control myself."

"I hope you don't mean that," I wink at him as I turn off the shower. "Let's get back to your room."

He tosses me a towel and we dry off quickly. I'm wishing my boner away, as I don't want to be seen in the hallway wagging a stiffy around, but Calvin doesn't seem to care at all. He just gathers up his shower kit and his wet clothes, and throws the towel over his shoulder. I wrap my towel around my waist and follow. He walks right out into the hallway, his cock still at half-mast, bobbing freely in the open.

"Um, Calvin, you realize you're naked right?"

"Uh, yeah. We do it all the time here, because this is an all-male floor."

"But what if one of your hallmates has a female guest? Couldn't that get awkward if you ran into her in the hallway like this?"

"Awkward for the guy she's seeing, yeah, because once she lays her eyes on this she's not going to be happy with whatever he's packin'." He turns to me and waves his half-hardon at me.

I laugh at his goofy machismo. I haven't seen this side of him, the cocky jock, before. I guess it means he's getting more comfortable with me. With us. Are we an us?

We're back at his room, and he shuts the door behind us. He dumps his shower kit and towel in the corner, and then walks over to the futon and flips up the front, flattening it into a double bed. Plenty of room for us to, well, what are we going to do, exactly? I'm not at all sure, once I think about it.

He plops his fine, naked ass on the futon and looks at me, appraisingly.

"You're overdressed," he says, with a sly wink. God he is so sexy.

I stand before him, with the towel still around my waist. I'm everything at once: thrilled, nervous, turned on, scared to death. I am frozen before him, not sure what to do or how to do it. He sees my deer-in-the-headlights look and gets up from the futon. He comes to me, and his hands go to my waist. As he works his hands under the towel, he leans in close to my ear, and in a hot whisper he says, "Before today I never even thought about another guy. Now it's all I want."

I grab his shoulders to keep my knees from buckling under me. I lean against him, feeling the solidity and warmth of his body. My towel falls, and his hands are again all over me. We kiss, and kiss. Then he moves backward to the futon, and we fall back onto it. I'm on top of him, with my legs astride him, by cock pointing into his navel, my lips all over his. My cock is grinding into his washboard stomach, and the friction of my foreskin sliding up and down that furrowed expanse of muscle is going to make me blow in about 10 seconds. I break our kiss, and sit up. This has two immediate effects; first, I can take in the amazing sight of my idol, my god, lying before me with lust in his eyes; second, his huge, bone-hard cock nestles into the crack of my ass, and throbs there impatiently.

Wanting to make this last a bit, I brush my fingers across his chest; his nipples spring to attention, ever the good soldiers, and goosebumps radiate out from them across his entire torso. His head tips back, his mouth opens, his back arches, his eyes close. His hands grip my thighs as if he's afraid he's about to float away and he's holding on to save his life. I raise my hips to lift myself over his insistent prick, and slide down his body onto his legs. I'm now straddling his powerful thighs, feeling them thrum with energy. I lean back down and take his right nipple in my mouth. He gasps, and I nibble. He cries out, and I suck that nub of flesh into my mouth. He's shaking as I suck in more of his beautiful pectoral, and his nipple is unbelievably hard in my mouth. I switch to his other nipple, and bring my hand up to tweak the one that's still wet from my spit. He moans like a demented man, his head thrashing back and forth.

"Unnhhh! No one's ever ... done that ... to me! You're fucking ... fucking ... amazing!" he huffs out in gasps. I can feel his cock nudging me in the belly, and I want to get there. I move slowly down, kissing my way down his abs, kissing each peak and each valley, stopping to french-kiss his cute innie belly button. This makes him buck and start moaning again, so I continue down, following the trail of deep golden hair that starts just below his navel and guides me down to his groin. I don't get far, though, as his cock reaches nearly all the way to his belly button. It's the largest I've ever laid my hands on. I grasp it with my left hand, and he breathes in sharply. I look up at him, and he's looking down at me, with the strangest look on his face. His breath is coming in little gasping wheezes. I'm afraid he's going to hyperventilate.

"Something wrong?" I ask.

"It's just that, well, we're about to ... I mean you're going to ... aren't you?" he stammers.

"If you mean I'm about to suck your dick, then, yes, you're right." I wonder if he's prompting me to talk dirty to him a little. I could be up for that.

"But ... but once you do that then ... I mean, I'll be a ..." He stutters along. "I mean, there'll be no going back," he finally manages to get out.

"Calvin, if you're afraid that my giving you a blowjob will make you gay, you don't have to worry." He takes a breath, not quite a sigh. "You became completely gay back in the shower."

His eyes bug out a bit, and then he sees that I'm grinning at him, still holding his rock-hard cock in my hand. He gets the joke.

"So basically, I'm done as a straight guy, is what you're saying."

"I don't care what you call it. I just want to do this, and if you want to do it too, then let's forget about finding a name for it and just fucking do it."

His lips purse. He's really thinking about this.

"So, you in, or you out?" I ask, giving his prick a squeeze.

"Ahhhh, fuck, I'm in!" His head flops back to the mattress, and his hands cover his face.

That's all I need to hear. I lift that beautiful slab of meat up to my lips and open wide. Really wide. As it enters my mouth, Calvin arches his back and his dick starts to pulse. I half expect him to come right then. But he calms down, and I wrap my lips around it and run my tongue over its hot surface. His moaning, like his laughter, is music to me.

I've only been sucking cock for about a year now, but I've learned a few things. I press a bit with my tongue here, suck a little harder there. I take big all-day lollipop licks, and plant little kisses all up and down. This isn't sex, it's worship.

"Oh god oh god oh god oh god," Calvin whispers over and over again. I take a little detour down to those enormous, churning balls of his, and his breath shortens into tight, hiccuping bursts. I keep working his cock with one hand while with the other I reach under his balls and lift them to my lips. I give each a lick, and then I take the right one into my mouth. Calvin arches, and sucks in a huge breath. I worry that he's about to yank his ball back out of my mouth, but, as I noted earlier, his sac has a lot of give to it, and I hold tight. I consider for a moment trying to get both orbs in my mouth at once, but my mouth is nearly full as it is; there's no way another nut is going to fit. So I tug at the other ball a bit, and swab my tongue over the one in my mouth. Then I switch it up. I don't think Calvin's taken a full breath since I started down here, so in the interest of him not asphyxiating I decide to move back up to the main attraction. I kiss his inner thighs all the way back up, loving the clean smell that is now mixing with ... sweat? No, that can't be it. It's a kind of musky smell that drives me wild. He's releasing some sort of hormone that is like heroine to me. Dizzy, I grab his cock again and stuff it back into my mouth.

"Dude, you're killing me!" he gasps. He grabs me by the shoulders, pulls me off his prick with a squishy, suctioning noise, and hoists me smoothly up to face level. "How did I not know about this?" he demands, his face flushed, his forehead dewy.

"About what?" I ask, not sure what he means.

"About how good this is! It's like I've never had sex before--the way you make me feel."

"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it. Can I finish now?" I ask, jerking my head in the direction of his spit-slicked dick below me.

"Oh hell no," he replies, effortlessly lifting me off of him and rolling us over. Now I get the value of all of that bench pressing. Totally worth it.

He is now astride me, in precisely the same position I was moments ago, and all I can hope is that he's got the same general plan in mind. But where I kissed my way down his body, he's all business. He does a sort of cat-like leap and is suddenly at my crotch, pulling my legs apart so that he can kneel between them. He leans forward, and studies my cock and balls for a moment, and then seems to decide that he's going for it. He reaches for my cock, my achingly hard cock, and grips it in his strong hand. He lowers his face down to my boner, his lips a fraction of an inch from making contact. He freezes, and looks up at me.

"Hey Josh," he says, with a mischievous grin, "Does this make me look gay?"

In spite of myself, I laugh at this, hard. He has come so far in a day, hell, in the last two hours. That he can make this joke makes me adore him all the more.

"No, Calvin. You are clearly completely hetero. Now, suck my dick."

"Yes, sir," he replies smartly. And then he gets to it.

Now, I don't know if you remember what it was like to suck your first dick, but I remember quite well the first blowjob I ever gave. Perhaps it was because I'd never had one myself that I thought the procedure was all about maximum suction and friction. Oh, and moaning. The people in porn always moaned. But it turns out that an energetic vacuuming and scraping effect with a moaning soundtrack doesn't make for a great blowjob. I got better, though my first blowjob recipient never came back for another one.

But I digress. Calvin clearly has had a good number of good blowjobs in his life, because about 12 seconds after he starts on me I am ready to shoot. His mouth is wet, his tongue is everywhere, and his teeth seem to have disappeared. Luckily he pulls off my cock to watch, fascinated, as his fist moves my foreskin up and down. On the upstroke, he kisses the hood as it gathers at the tip of my prick. One the downstroke he licks all around the exposed head. This drives me wild.

All of a sudden, he rears up, grabs my ankles, and pushes my legs up into the air. I tense instantly, as he has clearly forgotten that I don't want to be fucked, but I'm not sure I can stop him if that's what he wants to do. I'm about to tell him to back off when I feel his breath on the sensitive skin between my balls and my hole. Oh my god, he's going to rim me.

First he kisses all along my taint, taking big mouthfuls of my most private skin on the way. Then he reaches my hole, and kisses it. He kisses my ass! Then he looses an all-out tongue attack: he nips and licks and probes and finally pushes his tongue right inside. My eyes are clenched so tight I see stars. He works my hole for what seems like 10 minutes, as if he's dreamed of eating asshole for his whole life. Where did this come from?