Meeting Ian Ch. 01

His lips on my neck were incredible, my cock pressed hard against my jeans. The slight burn of him making bruises only added to my enjoyment. I wanted more though, grasping the edge of his shirt, I started pulling it off him. He helped me to get it out from under him and then we were skin to skin. I reclaimed his lips as I reveled in the pure body contact.

He sat up straddling me and I got my first eyeful of his body. He was lithe, with small compact muscles. A dark patch of hair grew in the center of his chest that matched the trail of hair leading from his belly button down below the confines of his jeans which bulged outward.

Idiotically I muttered, "You're hard."

Ian laughed rubbing his crotch against mine, "Yeah man. Of course I am." He swooped down and started kissing me again. They became more passionate, less exploratory. His hand trailed down my body, cupping my erection through my jeans. He deftly unsnapped them with one hand but didn't slip his hand inside. I would have begged for it.

My hands couldn't get enough, finding his ass, his strong shoulders, every inch of perfect skin. A jarring siren broke the air, previously only filled my moans and panting.

"Fuck." Ian was immediately up, as his phone went of simultaneously. He answered the phone, "I heard Dusty. On my way. Get everyone out the back. Get the underage pledges upstairs." He hung up and I was frozen. "Stay here." He muttered swiping on his discarded t-shirt.

I was mildly in shock as Ian ran down the stairs. I could hear the thunder of hundreds of kids running out the backdoor into the side streets putting as much distance as possible between them and the police. It wasn't the possibility of maybe getting in trouble with campus police or the BPD that kept me immobile. It was that I had just been making out with Ian, Ian Sherman. IFC President and Homecoming King: Ian Sherman.

I could hear feet coming up the stairs so I rapidly extricated myself from the bed, no need to be caught there by some nice officers. I was ready to act sober when the door flung open and most of my pledge class barged in.

"Artie! Great, that means we all cleared out." The six boys breathed, "Matt ran out the back."

"Are we going to be in trouble?" I asked worriedly. An alcohol violation wouldn't look good on my grad school applications.

"Nah," Chase spoke, slurring slightly, "It's probably just a noise violation. The cops are stupid; they clearly saw everyone run. They didn't even try to get anyone. They'll just tell us to be quiet and be happy they shut down the party."

That was pretty much exactly what happened. A few of the brothers including Ian, Drew and Austin came up to tell us the cops were leaving.

"No write up, just a verbal warning." Drew said, running his hand through his messy hair.

"Go home, we'll see you guys tomorrow at ten for cleanup," Austin said.

I tried to catch Ian's eye but he was talking to Drew. I walked out of the house feeling slightly put off. Why hadn't he asked me to stay the night? Why didn't he at least say goodbye? I realized I was being insane so I just sent him a text: Pretty good party. See you tomorrow.

I went to sleep still waiting for a reply.

Cleaning the house took on a different feel. I wasn't as sick as the week before but I felt queasy that Ian was avoiding me. He clearly was. If I was sent to complete a chore where he was he would immediately leave the room. Thoughts sprang through my head, did I completely misremember the night before? Had he not been into it?

I had scrubbed the kitchen on the third floor back to its only mildly filthy state when I heard a throat being cleared.

Ian leaned against the door jamb, "So, uh, can we talk?"

I nodded and stood.

"So, that can't happen again. It would look really bad."

My stomach sank, "Because I'm gay?"

Ian looked stricken, "Jesus. No. Because you're a pledge. It might seem like I'm forcing you. Like I have a position of power and if it got out then it could look like a hazing thing. Look, I'm IFC president, but I could actually be arrested if someone accused me."

Shit. Hadn't thought of that at all. "Okay. Sure. No problem."

Brothers

It had been months since initiation. That cool November morning had been a proud moment, a culmination of a lot of hard work. I was so proud to call myself a brother of Lambda Pi. It was also a day that didn't pan out the way I thought it would.

Ian had been keeping me at a distance, which was understandable. But I had learned a lot about him. Like he was a massive man whore.

One day I had heard Austin call Ian: In. At first I thought it had been a charming accent difference. But then I heard it all around. The story was none too flattering, merely that he always gets it in. It was something that I discovered was all too real. At parties, at work, in my classes, if I was wearing my letters everyone would stop and ask, "Do you know Ian Sherman?" At my increasingly begrudging yes, they would explain that some girl they knew or them knew Ian intimately. Everyone loved him, they just all had the same experience. They would fuck a few times and it would be over.

I would see him at parties in the back corner with a girl wrapped around him. Always a different girl, sometimes multiple a night. He would show off the scratches up his back, not to me (he wasn't an asshole) just to the guys and I would inevitably see that.

I got over him. I don't know what depressed person would let a guy just fuck around for months and not get tired of it.

He had said the reason we weren't fucking was because I was a pledge and then months later and I was a brother and nothing. I was taking a class called 19^th Century American Poets and met a nice kid, Sean. He was tall and attractive with blond hair brighter than the sun. I couldn't tell if it was dyed at first but it was all natural. We met discussing the first paper of the spring semester. He was bright but not the best at paper writing. In the library, we edited his paper and got it up to snuff.

He lingered for a while, "So, do you want to go get dinner? I should pay you back for the editing."

I considered him. "Yeah, alright." Unlike Ian, and I really had to stop comparing guys to Ian, there was no confusion that Sean was gay.

I had a surprisingly good time so I invited him to the party at 48 that Friday.

Partying in February in Boston is always a mess, luckily this year it wasn't that snowy but it was cold as fuck outside. I picked Sean up at his dorm and we verily ran to 48 because the temperature was horrific. The party hadn't truly started, with just a few brothers hanging out. I had come out well before initiation much to the general non-caring of my brothers but they were loving ribbing me about actually bringing a date to the party. Sean held his own, laughing and joking along with them.

I grabbed Sean a drink and the party started kicking off, slowly more people started arriving. Ian was one of them, I saw the moment his eyes hit me and the arm that was thrown around my shoulders. He became coolly assessing as he stuck out his hand, "Ian Sherman."

I saw his smirk when Sean had to take his arm off my shoulder to shake his hand.

"So, you guys are..."

"On a date." Sean answered confidently.

"Well, that's great. Really happy for you. I'm going to go grab a drink. If you need anything Sean, I got you." Ian turned away and I shrugged in response to Sean's questioning glance.

The party was fun and Sean was one of the main reasons for it. The dance floor which strangely had become the place I felt most confident was ruled by us. As the night wore on our movements got dirtier and dirtier. I didn't lose my shirt but we were basically having sex on the dance floor, making out constantly. I was achingly hard and I knew he was too as we grinding together.

"Want to get out of here?" Sean whisper-yelled in my ear.

"Yeah. I just have to tell the guys. I'm the sober monitor for the night."

"You're not sober."

"Yeah, it's only so we can say we have one." He chuckled as I walked away.

I needed to find a brother named Anton who was in charge of social events. I climbed two flights of stairs looking for him when I happened on Ian, uncharacteristically alone. He was also wasted, something that I didn't typically see.

"So where's Sean?" He asked, lisping a little.

"He's downstairs. I'm gonna go; do you know where Anton is?"

"I saw you making out with him."

I snorted, "Yeah, I bet a lot of people did. We were in the middle of the room."

"It looks bad."

"Why? Because we're dudes? Because I see you making out with girls all the time."

He didn't respond for a moment. "You're going home with him?"

Jesus. "Yes."

"Use protection." He bit out.

"Wise words from the master." I've always been a bit of dick, so snark comes to me naturally.

"Whatever Artie. I'll text Anton, go do what you want."

"Great." But just like that Ian had taken the wind of out my sails. The horniness was gone remembering Ian's sour face. Then I got angry. Why did he get to make me feel bad? He fucked around all the time. We made out once, he didn't own me.

Me and Sean didn't have sex that night but I thanked him for coming to the party with a screaming orgasm and his cum shooting down my throat.

I got two texts while I was sleeping from Sean: Had a great time last night. Hope to see you again soon.

And from Ian: Come to 48. If the text hadn't been sent in the morning, I would have thought it was a drunk text.

I knocked on the back door, the only people who knocked on the front were cops and freshman and then the freshman learned to knock at the back. Ian flung open the door and pulled me through it. Lips descending on mine in a possessive, dominant display.

I shoved him away from me, "The fuck, dude?"

"I'm better than him. I can make you feel better than him. Let me show you." His fingers tugged on my arm and his lips claimed me again. He pushed me back against the door caging my hands in his above my head.

I was breathless. Stricken stupid by his kiss, I didn't know what to think. "Seriously, now? After months of ignoring me?"

He smiled ruefully, "I know I'm an asshole. But yeah, now." He bent to kiss me in a fiery sweep of lips and tongue. "Be honest, am I a better kisser?" He didn't let me answer just proving that the answer was yes. "Come upstairs with me."

I nodded, feeling almost drugged.

I dutifully followed him up the stairs to his bedroom. Watching with wary eyes, I knew this was a mistake. I was hurting Sean. I shouldn't blow someone and then have sex with someone else twelve hours later. These thoughts were pushed aside by Ian tossing aside his t-shirt.

I had missed his chest. The slightly furred expanse made me just want to touch him. His muscles seemed bigger than the last time I had seen them. His fingers trailed up my stomach removing my shirt. I stood impassively, trying not to get my hopes up if he was going to dash them.

"You're so hot." He murmured as his lips found that perfect space between my jaw and ear. His arms came around me and pulled me to him. We fit together perfectly. I couldn't feign indifference anymore. My hands tangled in his hair and I kissed him. His hands were gripping my ass, massaging it while rubbing our dicks together. My brain might have been worried about the moral implications but my cock was fully onboard with the proceedings.

His hand slipped underneath my waistband. And I realized that this was my fantasy, our interrupted session had become what if's in my mind and now I got to know and it was incredible. One hand still cupping my ass under my jeans, his other hand anchored my face to his.

I was done with the minimal touching. I broke apart from him and he looked like he was about to protest when I unbuttoned my pants and slowly dropped them and my boxers kicking them aside with my loose slip on shoes.

Ian's eyes were dark with lust as he stalked me toward the bed, stripping off his own pants as he went. I'm not saying that I'm small, I am slightly above the average but Ian's cock was disproportionate to his body. Way too long. I had heard stories about it before, but seeing those rumors come to life was both a rude awakening and such a turn on. I'm a bit of size queen, who cares.

"Did he suck you?" Ian asked rubbing his hands up my thighs, leaving tingling trails.

I shook my head no, focused on his fingers coming closer to my purpling cock. It was already leaking from the tip.

"Such a shame." He pushed me down so that I was sitting on his bed and then he pushed my legs wide. He knelt between my spread thighs. I hadn't seen him hook up with any guys in the months I watched from the shadows, but this wasn't his first time.

With no warning he flicked his tongue across the slit, tasting my pre-cum. I could feel his smile as I let out an involuntary groan of pleasure. His tongue flitted around me shaft, lightly as if to tease me. As his tongue ran over the sensitive underside of the head, his mouth closes and applied the slightest bit of pressure. It was fucking heavenly; his mouth was velvet. Warm and wet and perfect. He sucked evenly and brought me to a fever pitch quickly. His fingers traced around my balls before trailing up to my ass. This too was teasing, nothing going in. He just played with the nerves around it.

When he started humming and taking my cock deep I started to lose it. "Ian, fuck, I'm going to cum." He paid me no attention drinking down my cum with little evident care.

He ensured not to keep sucking my overly sensitive cock. Laying his head on my thigh, he pressed a kiss to the skin. It was too tender, too sweet. "Do you want to fuck?"

He grinned up at me, "Do I still have something to prove?"

Yes, but not what he thought. I wanted him to prove that he cared about me not that his prowess was better than Sean's.

He stood, towering over me in my still seated position. He pulled me across the bed so that I was lying down. I got an eyeful of his long shaft, fuck that was going in me. It's all fun to write about big cocks but the reality is a little scary.

He reached into the bedside table and got an industrial side bottle of lube, half empty. "Seriously man?" I asked incredulously.

He looked confused, "Oh, I jerk off with lube instead of lotion. It feels better." He threw the lube down beside me before falling over me, "I can show you how good it feels."

Uncapping it, I heard a soft squelch but no lube. He apparently saw my confusion, "Warming it up for you." Then the lube was on me as well as his nimble fingers. My cock perked up out of it's sated state as his index finger started to press in. It had been a while, but I wasn't about to say that to Mr. Proving His Virility.

He distracted me with tricky fingers tweaking my nipples and tender kisses to my lips, neck, and chest. Two fingers in and he nudged my spot. My back arched under the waves of perfect sensation. My cock was back in the game.

As he pushed into me, I grabbed at his back feeling his powerful muscles flexing. He was so controlled as my body both tried to push him out and desperately needed him in me. To distract me from the pain, his lips came to my neck and like the first time marked me. I cried out as his pelvis met my ass. I was so full, so complete. He grinned at me.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" I asked, though still breathing hard.

A short flex of his hips had my back arching as he dragged his cock over my prostate, "I'm a generous lover Artie. Just wanted to be sure you were ready for this."

"Give it to me. Fuck me, Ian."

His hips pulled out slowly and snapped back. It was all sensation. My hands weren't helping him move, I just wanted him to stay in me. My body rocked. I lost control of my mouth yelling out my pleasure, begging for everything. For him to fuck me. For him to go faster. For more. He obliged every time.

I was on the edge again. He could see it, stopping for a moment before three fast jabs straight over my g-spot. I came in a web of spunk across his chest. He followed soon after, his body becoming all smooth lines as he filled the condom with his load.

With adept fingers, Ian looped the top of the rubber and tossed it away.

I spent most of the day with him, partially clothed, mostly not. We texted throughout the week with me coming over most nights, spending a few hours (mostly on my back) and then going home. It was fantastic.

For three weeks it was like that. Non-stop action. And then a Friday night came and I didn't get a text from him to come over for a pre-party. I shrugged it off, midterms were around the corner and he had a paper to write for most of his classes. The party was fine. The brilliance of the sheer number of people had dimmed but now I knew most of the main crowd. Throughout the night I glanced around for Ian before I asked Drew, "Where's Ian?" He stopped his conversation with Emily looking a little queasy. We hadn't been super discreet about our relationship.

"Artie, I don't know how to tell you this but he's upstairs... with someone."

I felt like I had been punched, like the floor was disintegrating beneath me. "Who?" The morbid fascination overwhelmed me. Was it better if he was with a girl? I thought so. Maybe I couldn't give him what he needed.

"I don't know, Artie"

Emily looked sad as well, "Sorry Artie, he's a jerk."

I waved off their concerns, "It's all good, we were just having fun." I knew that was true but they like me didn't believe it.

I proceeded to get really drunk at that party, far beyond that first night but no puking. My liver had been trained to take a beating. I crashed at the house on one of the couches only to be awoken by a smiling Ian, "What's up, Artie?" Like nothing had happened. Like nothing had changed.

"Did you have sex last night?"

He looked uncertain, "Yes."