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Jeff & Mike
|I don't know how I made it through college, I really don't. There was my nightmare roommate - I think I mentioned him before. You know, the straight, Christian, fags-go-to-hell lacrosse player, whose un-ending tirades and Biblical crusades against "homos" I endured for a whole semester sophomore year. God, I really hate those pathological Christian tight-ass types we get down here in the South sometimes. I finally had to silence him by lifting him off the ground bodily, tearing his shorts off, and threatening to slam his terrified, flailing ass down onto my cock - I basically held him aloft by his shoulders, and said, in a low growl: "If you don't shut up, I'm going to impale the two globes of your virgin muscle ass with this special hard-on I'm sportin', sport." Then I flicked my granite-hard pecker up so it dusted the hairs of his crack menacingly. I had deliberately created this hard-on just for the occasion, by refraining from whacking off for a week. (You ever do that? Knock off jackin' for a week, so that when you finally get hard it's like, "HELLO!"? Try it!)
"From now on, you piece of shit, you stick to your side of the room and I'll stick to mine. If you ever mention the freakin' Bible again, I'll jam my cock so deep in your ass you'll think you sat on a church steeple. Then I'll stand up, I'll walk you outta here, still naked and immobilized from hanging off my cock, bouncing deeper into your guts with every step I take downstairs, and march you straight over to your lacrosse buddies in the middle of practice, and fucking dump you right in the middle of the field, naked and bleeding, your ass spewing gallons of my backwashed cum, mingled with your blood and shit, like a broken fireplug, all over the turf."
I didn't have any problems with him after that. I just ignored him, pretended he wasn't there, even proceeding once to whack off while he had friends over! Heh heh heh…
Ah, college days. There was the dweeby kid across the hall junior year who started out offering to pay me to train him, then to watch me work out, then paid me to flex privately, then paid me to suck his dick, finally paying me over a thousand bucks of his hard-earned work-study money to fuck his skinny lights out. Why the hell don't these guys just join a gym and get built? They could have all the sex they could want, without paying for it! I'd'a fucked this kid for free if he had a few muscles, he was pretty cute. I even told him that. And he just mumbled "Oh no, Mike, I could never work out…I'd be way too embarrassed and intimidated." What the fuck is that - guy making a conscious choice to remain small and runty and flabby, when he could be massive and ripped if he just chose to be?? I met tons of these dudes in college, faggots like me but these squirrely, girly twinks who never worked out. I didn't understand it, and maybe I never will.
And, uhh, there were more roadtrips down to South Beach than I can count. Actually, college is all pretty much a blur, so why don't I skip the details and get on with the real story about me and Jeff. All's you got to know about my college years is, I don't know how I was able to eat enough to keep replenishing the loads of cum I was spilling on a daily basis.
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