Varsity Low Ch. 12

Grif would text to check in on me. I would bring food back from food court and eat in my room, not wanting to sit alone at the table I once shared with Anders. In short, I was mostly high-functioning miserable.

One fine afternoon I was half-napping in my room, too lazy and depressed to even masturbate. There was a knock on my door. Rumpled from my nap, boxers and Grif's sweatshirt, and here was Anders giving me his best strawberry blond puppy dog look. Letter jacket, black tee showcasing his wide shoulders and thick pecs, worn 505's, wide Merrells on his wide feet. Glint of blondish scruff. Effortless wholesome masculinity. I was roadkill, smeared across some lonesome highway.

"Hey, Trav, I was gonna take a walk, you wanna come along? It is real nice outside." he asked with more than a hint of apprehension, shy boy charming.

I opened the door wide. "Get in here, varsity boy." I said low and even. He stepped in, and I was kissing him hard. My hands all up under his letter jacket, exploring his solid thick beefy-ness. He had one big hand on my junk, my rock hard 7.5" cut cock out the fly of my boxers.

"Trav, I..." he started.

"Don't talk. Fuck me. Hard. Rule my ass. Wear the letter jacket." I pulled off my clothes and kicked back on the bed. He knelt on the floor between my legs, went down on my blond pink dick, Anders style. Slow, fast, deep, then back again. I had taught him well. I put both hands in his shower damp mane, holding his head down on my eager pudd. "Ahhh, don't make me cum." He reared back, wiping his mouth on the back of a a big fist.

He stripped down like his clothes were on fire. Slouchy crew socks, the open letter jacket a perfect frame for his rug of blondish fur that ran from collar bone to crotch.

I got on my knees and took his girthy 7" uncut cock in my mouth, working his heavy Nordic foreskin over his blunt glans with lips, tongue, spit. "Ahhhhn!" he groaned, one big hand on the back of my head, grooving on my blond buzzcut. His big fuzzy balls were up and tight and I grazed his ample knot of maleness with my fingertips, which I knew he liked.

He pushed me off his dick. "Get on the bed. Put your legs back, hold your ankles." he growled. I complied, and he went face deep in my ass, handsome mug with scruff tonguing and licking my blond boy slot, prepping me to get fucked hard.

"Yeah, fuckin' lick me, jock boy!" and he did just that. He came up for air, went and found the lube. He greased up his thick cock in my sight line, I touched his horned up balls with my fingertips. Two thick lubed fingers were working my hole.

He was on me, my ankles on his shoulders, on the letter jacket, his meaty blunt dickhead at my back door. "Fuck me. Own me. Make it hurt!" He teased my hole with his eager maleness, then went in, balls deep in one thrust and held. "Unnnnhh!" I grunted, the pain total, exquisite. He went slow at first, I was covered by his awesome torso, fur and pecs framed by the letter jacket. I was in heat, stroking my cock, trying not to cum too soon, the letter jacket some kind of magical catnip.

He started pounding, his deep digger fuck style, his splendid male body working every thrust. "Jizz for me Trav, I wanna see it, make you cum like my little slut boy."

I came hard, jizz ropes flying, one heavy rope across my face, cumming with my soul, keening like an animal. Triggered by making me cum, Anders went full rut, pounding me hard and fast, grunting as he unload balls deep inside me.

He was still inside me, I pulled him into a kiss by the letter jacket, slow, loving, grateful. All I wanted was to belong to this splendid boy with the easy grin.

"Daaaaamn, Trav! What was that?" he asked, boyish joy in his voice.

"I think they call it 'make up sex'." I laughed.

"Whatever. That was great. Spoon me, Trav." he pulled off the letter jacket, tossed it on my desk chair. We had learned how to spoon on narrow twin dorm beds, not ideal, but doable. I held him, my face in his hair, huffing his wholesome Anders scent.

"Are...are we good?" I asked, apprehension in my voice, hoping I was not trifling with my luck.

"Yeah, Trav we are gonna be just fine." he said with his easy confidence.

"We have a lot to talk about." I said.

"Yeah, I know, but not now. I just wanna be in your arms, swimmer boy." I felt his muscles relax, his breathing slow; we were on the cusp of a nap.

I held him close, but not too tight.

WG