All characters are 18+
Princeton University wasn't just any university. Sure, it sounds like a cliche, but it's the truth. It was the most prestigious college in the country, and it was blatantly obvious by the preppy looking students who strutted around campus, wearing navy suits, white shirts, and all with the red emblem stitched into them.
They all felt like they were better than everyone else. Scratch that, they all knew they were better than everyone else. Most of them came from sickeningly wealthy families. The Rotchbergers were arguably the wealthiest, followed by the Carmichaels, and the list didn't end there.
Those who were lucky enough to have the infamous names, were automatically considered the elites. It gave high school bully vibes, but these guys didn't need to flush anybodies head down a toilet. They had money, and in a place like Princeton, money talked.
I'd gotten in by chance. I was just a regular eighteen year old kid, who happened to be more intelligent than your average Joe. I'd applied as a joke, and when the acceptance letter arrived, I was certain they were playing a joke back. Yet, five months later, there I was.
It looked just like you'd expect a top level university to look. Huge walls to keep out the peasants. A large, castle-like building where students came and went for lectures. Countless smaller buildings, like some medieval fortress, and then there were the dorms.
People like me were left with the standard, run-of-the-mill dorms. You know the ones. Two beds, a broken desk, and a bathroom so small that you can piss from the shower. I didn't mind, much. I'd grown up knowing what it felt like to struggle, so it wasn't anything new to me.
On the other side of campus, however, were the private dorms. You can guess who lived in those..
Harry Rotchberger was the college equivalent to Chris Hemsworth, without the beard. That is, if Chris Hemsworth was ten times hotter than he already was. As much of an asshat as Harry was, there was simply no denying that he was out of this world beautiful.
The guy was worshipped like some sort of mythical god. Every person in the college knew him, and at least ninety percent of them wanted to jump on his dick. It would have been funny, if I wasn't also included in that ninety percent.
From the moment I first laid eyes on him, as he sauntered across campus in a sweat drenched, sleeveless t-shirt, I knew that my days on campus would be spent fantasising over him. He wasn't just hot, he was painfully, annoyingly, fuck me right in the ass hot.
Harry knew he was adored by everyone who looked in his direction. That's why he took the long way back from the gym, and allowed mere mortals like us to gawp as he walked, with a fresh gym pump pulsing blood through his bulging veins.
He also knew that once everybody had gotten a good look at his spectacular physique, that their next target was the giant meat stick that swayed freely in his shorts. At first, I was convinced that it was a joke, and that Harry kept a suspiciously large dildo in his pants. The thing looked like a third leg, swinging back and forth, slapping off his solid thighs. Then the rumours began to circulate. Young women spoke in whispers and limped like cowboys as they giggled. Ten inches is what they estimated, but girls had a habit of over-exaggerating everything about Harry Rotchberger.
So why am I telling you all of this? Just to set the scene for another miserable, gay teenager, who has to sit on the sidelines and watch as the man of his dreams is whisked off by a hot cheerleader? Well, not exactly. You see, when Harry Rotchberger finally noticed me, he did so for a reason that I could hardly believe.
Standing outside the door of my dorm room, Harry wore an oversized hoodie, pulled tight around his face, and baggy sweat pants which still showed the size of his dong. It took me a moment to pick my jaw up off the floor, and when the world's most affluent fuck boy spoke, I almost pissed my pants.
"Word on campus is that you're gay" he told me, with a look so sincere that I knew he couldn't be fucking with me.
"Uh... Yeah?"
"I need a favour, and I need you to keep quiet about it, too".
As a good host should, I invited Harry inside, and I could almost smell the disgust from him. He grimaced at the place, which I guess was to be expected considering the entire dorm was the size of his walk in wardrobe.
"What can I do for you?" I asked, as though we were having some sort of business meeting.
Harry loosened the strings around his hood, and pulled it down to reveal his stunning mane of dark blond hair. He looked nervous. In fact, he looked terrified. I cocked a brow as he tried to find the words, and then they all poured out of him at once, and it sounded something like:
"Imaneedyoudalemmefukyou".
I raised my eyes and shook my head.
"Is that Swahili?"
He looked away, rubbed his flawless chin, and shook his head. A deep breath later, he spoke more coherently.
"I'm gonna' need you to let me fuck you".
The silence that fell between us was the loudest silence I had ever known. It felt like someone had dunked my entire body into molten lava, and the warmth swarmed me like a pack of angry hornets. I felt my cheeks burn red, and when I laughed, Harry stood up.
"This was a mistake" he said, and hurried toward the door.
"No, no, wait!" I barked after him, because for every mistake I'd ever made, this would not be one of them. "You're fucking with me, right? What is this, some kind of college initiation? Pin the dick on the gay boy, huh?"
I expected the door to burst open and the rest of the snobby students to pile into the room with streamers and whistles, but Harry turned back and shook his head.
"I'm a virgin, Karl".
Now he really was fucking with me. I sniggered again, and shook my head.
"First of all, my name is Carter. Second of all, you're not a virgin, because every chick in this place has talked about your huge fucking... Whatever you want to call that trouser snake".
With absolutely no form of warning. No hint of notification. With not a single shred of notice, Harry fucking Rotchberger pulled his grey sweatpants down to his ankles, and stood back up, completely exposed, and utterly breathtaking, as his huge manhood bounced between his legs.
It felt like the entire world had stopped, and all I could do was stand and behold the glorious sight before me. He was groomed to perfection, with only a small, stubbled patch of pubic hair above his mammoth organ. His balls hung down low, contained inside the most succulent looking sack I had ever seen. His cock, like a flesh coloured baseball bat, was smooth, yet bulging with veins, and the mushroom head was as pink as cotton candy at a fairground.
"I think I need to sit down" I admitted, and fumbled my way onto a chair.
"Nobody can take it, man" he sighed, and looked down at his giant cock.
It wasn't ten inches, but it wasn't far off either. Perhaps it could get to ten, but that thought both terrified and intrigued me. I bit down on my lip and swallowed hard.
"I'm guessing your general knowledge about the anatomy of a gay man is a little skewed" I finally said, as Harry remained half naked. "But, I hate to break it to you, that ain't fitting in me either".
He cocked his head like a confused puppy.
"But... But I watched... I watched gay porn" he told me, whispering the 'gay' part in case that somehow made him more gay than the fact that he was standing there with his cock and balls hanging out.
"Right" I nodded, "and that's porn. This..." I continued, and gestured around the room, "is not".
He rubbed his face with frustration and finally reached for his pants.
"Wait, wait, hold up" I said, and got to my feet, which felt like jelly, "that doesn't mean I can't try".
Harry stopped and stared at me, and a flicker of hope lit up his vibrant blue eyes.
"Really?" He gasped, and when he realised that his voice pitched too high, he coughed, and repeated the word in a more masculine tone.
Harry's cock would have ruptured every internal organ that I possessed. The thing looked large enough to be a method of execution, but I was prepared to meet the executioner, because turning down Harry Rotchberger was not on my agenda.
"I have lube" he told me, and stepped out of his pants, so that now he really was naked below the waist.
"Did you bring a bathtub full?" I asked, still unsure how my night had gone from watching a mind numbing documentary on Netflix, to staring at Harry's cock.
He pulled his hoodie over his head, and I realised that he'd worn nothing else but the hoodie, sweatpants and sneakers. He looked even more impressive than I ever would have expected. Every part of his body looked as though it had been carved. Each muscle, each ab, each vein. He was a masterpiece.
"So um... I don't really know how you gays... I mean, guys do this" he gulped, and his cheeks began to blush. "Do you like... I don't know. Do you want to suck it or..."
The words had barely left his mouth. In fact, by the time he finished the sentence, I was already on my knees in front of him.
The scent of him washed over me like a warm, delicious blanket of happiness. He was neither fresh, nor ripe, but at some sweet spot in the middle that allowed me to inhale the sweet aroma of a workout, as well as the faded masculine fragrance of a 9-in-1 body wash.
I picked his cock up in my hand and shouldn't have been as surprised by the weight of it as I was. It felt like a limb, and as soon as my fingers began to wrap around it, Harry's rod swelled.
"It gets bigger?" I asked, watching as the helmet became engorged.
"Not a lot" he grimaced, as though he was ashamed of it.
Thankfully, Harry was correct. Although the massive cock stiffened in my grasp, the actual length of it remained relatively similar. Despite that, I was now quite sure that the rumours weren't exaggerations after all.
"Oh yeah" he mumbled, as I began to slide my hand up and down it, peeling back his long, loose foreskin slightly further, and allowing his glans to be revealed fully.
His beefy arms hung down by his sides as he exhaled deeply. His head hung back, and Harry relaxed into the handjob.
None of it seemed real, but I'd think about all of that later. That's if I survived what was sure to be the hardest fuck I had ever taken.
With each stroke, Harry's heavy balls bounced. I leaned forward, still working his meat with my hand, and slid my tongue along his sack. He whistled, which seemed like a good thing.
"You sure know your way around a cock" he grunted, making a hissing sound between his teeth, "damn, that's good".
This was my one, and possibly only shot at making Harry so very impressed, that he'd have to return for more. I continued sucking on each of his balls as I jerked him off, and then I felt the thick bead of pre-cum pour down the underside of his shaft, and drench my hand.
I opened my mouth as wide as I possibly could, and took his helmet inside. The sharp flavour made my own cock dance in my underwear, and my tongue instantly lapped at his gaping cumslit, which continued to pour.
"Aw shit, man" he moaned, his hand finding the back of my head, "that's real good".
It felt like a tap had been turned on. Copious amounts of pre-spunk cascaded down my throat, and I swallowed it eagerly. I didn't want to waste a drop, but I had never come across somebody who could produce so much fluid at such an alarming rate. I wondered if his cock was so large that having that much natural lubrication was very much necessary.
"Don't worry about taking it all, bro" he breathed, slowly thrusting an inch or two deeper, "it's no big deal".
Perhaps Harry underestimated me. I was, after all, a gay man, and this wasn't my first cock-rodeo. I opened my throat as wide as I could, like some sort of exotic reptile, preparing for a feast, and fed more of his wet, salty meat into me. I watched as he stared down at me with eyes like saucers.
"Holy fucking shit" he gasped, as inch by inch, I swallowed his cock.
Admittedly, nothing of this magnitude had ever gone down my throat before, and as skilled as I was, after eight inches, I felt like I was about to burst. Harry, however, had been transported to a different dimension, and was shaking with pleasure.
"Oh man. Oh fuck, that's the best fucking head I've ever had".
He held me so gently that I began to wonder if it was even Harry at all. Had someone dressed up as the beautiful young man? Someone kind? He pumped more pre-cum into my stomach, and let out a long, loud grunt.
"Damn, dude, I could fucking cum right now!".
Part of me wanted him to. Part of me wanted to please him so much with my mouth, that maybe he'd forget about impaling my ass. And then another part could think of nothing better than Harry slamming deep into my hole, with the sound of his balls slapping off mine.
"I wanna eat your ass" he blurted, "let me eat your ass, dude".
Princeton University wasn't just any university. Sure, it sounds like a cliche, but it's the truth. It was the most prestigious college in the country, and it was blatantly obvious by the preppy looking students who strutted around campus, wearing navy suits, white shirts, and all with the red emblem stitched into them.
They all felt like they were better than everyone else. Scratch that, they all knew they were better than everyone else. Most of them came from sickeningly wealthy families. The Rotchbergers were arguably the wealthiest, followed by the Carmichaels, and the list didn't end there.
Those who were lucky enough to have the infamous names, were automatically considered the elites. It gave high school bully vibes, but these guys didn't need to flush anybodies head down a toilet. They had money, and in a place like Princeton, money talked.
I'd gotten in by chance. I was just a regular eighteen year old kid, who happened to be more intelligent than your average Joe. I'd applied as a joke, and when the acceptance letter arrived, I was certain they were playing a joke back. Yet, five months later, there I was.
It looked just like you'd expect a top level university to look. Huge walls to keep out the peasants. A large, castle-like building where students came and went for lectures. Countless smaller buildings, like some medieval fortress, and then there were the dorms.
People like me were left with the standard, run-of-the-mill dorms. You know the ones. Two beds, a broken desk, and a bathroom so small that you can piss from the shower. I didn't mind, much. I'd grown up knowing what it felt like to struggle, so it wasn't anything new to me.
On the other side of campus, however, were the private dorms. You can guess who lived in those..
Harry Rotchberger was the college equivalent to Chris Hemsworth, without the beard. That is, if Chris Hemsworth was ten times hotter than he already was. As much of an asshat as Harry was, there was simply no denying that he was out of this world beautiful.
The guy was worshipped like some sort of mythical god. Every person in the college knew him, and at least ninety percent of them wanted to jump on his dick. It would have been funny, if I wasn't also included in that ninety percent.
From the moment I first laid eyes on him, as he sauntered across campus in a sweat drenched, sleeveless t-shirt, I knew that my days on campus would be spent fantasising over him. He wasn't just hot, he was painfully, annoyingly, fuck me right in the ass hot.
Harry knew he was adored by everyone who looked in his direction. That's why he took the long way back from the gym, and allowed mere mortals like us to gawp as he walked, with a fresh gym pump pulsing blood through his bulging veins.
He also knew that once everybody had gotten a good look at his spectacular physique, that their next target was the giant meat stick that swayed freely in his shorts. At first, I was convinced that it was a joke, and that Harry kept a suspiciously large dildo in his pants. The thing looked like a third leg, swinging back and forth, slapping off his solid thighs. Then the rumours began to circulate. Young women spoke in whispers and limped like cowboys as they giggled. Ten inches is what they estimated, but girls had a habit of over-exaggerating everything about Harry Rotchberger.
So why am I telling you all of this? Just to set the scene for another miserable, gay teenager, who has to sit on the sidelines and watch as the man of his dreams is whisked off by a hot cheerleader? Well, not exactly. You see, when Harry Rotchberger finally noticed me, he did so for a reason that I could hardly believe.
Standing outside the door of my dorm room, Harry wore an oversized hoodie, pulled tight around his face, and baggy sweat pants which still showed the size of his dong. It took me a moment to pick my jaw up off the floor, and when the world's most affluent fuck boy spoke, I almost pissed my pants.
"Word on campus is that you're gay" he told me, with a look so sincere that I knew he couldn't be fucking with me.
"Uh... Yeah?"
"I need a favour, and I need you to keep quiet about it, too".
As a good host should, I invited Harry inside, and I could almost smell the disgust from him. He grimaced at the place, which I guess was to be expected considering the entire dorm was the size of his walk in wardrobe.
"What can I do for you?" I asked, as though we were having some sort of business meeting.
Harry loosened the strings around his hood, and pulled it down to reveal his stunning mane of dark blond hair. He looked nervous. In fact, he looked terrified. I cocked a brow as he tried to find the words, and then they all poured out of him at once, and it sounded something like:
"Imaneedyoudalemmefukyou".
I raised my eyes and shook my head.
"Is that Swahili?"
He looked away, rubbed his flawless chin, and shook his head. A deep breath later, he spoke more coherently.
"I'm gonna' need you to let me fuck you".
The silence that fell between us was the loudest silence I had ever known. It felt like someone had dunked my entire body into molten lava, and the warmth swarmed me like a pack of angry hornets. I felt my cheeks burn red, and when I laughed, Harry stood up.
"This was a mistake" he said, and hurried toward the door.
"No, no, wait!" I barked after him, because for every mistake I'd ever made, this would not be one of them. "You're fucking with me, right? What is this, some kind of college initiation? Pin the dick on the gay boy, huh?"
I expected the door to burst open and the rest of the snobby students to pile into the room with streamers and whistles, but Harry turned back and shook his head.
"I'm a virgin, Karl".
Now he really was fucking with me. I sniggered again, and shook my head.
"First of all, my name is Carter. Second of all, you're not a virgin, because every chick in this place has talked about your huge fucking... Whatever you want to call that trouser snake".
With absolutely no form of warning. No hint of notification. With not a single shred of notice, Harry fucking Rotchberger pulled his grey sweatpants down to his ankles, and stood back up, completely exposed, and utterly breathtaking, as his huge manhood bounced between his legs.
It felt like the entire world had stopped, and all I could do was stand and behold the glorious sight before me. He was groomed to perfection, with only a small, stubbled patch of pubic hair above his mammoth organ. His balls hung down low, contained inside the most succulent looking sack I had ever seen. His cock, like a flesh coloured baseball bat, was smooth, yet bulging with veins, and the mushroom head was as pink as cotton candy at a fairground.
"I think I need to sit down" I admitted, and fumbled my way onto a chair.
"Nobody can take it, man" he sighed, and looked down at his giant cock.
It wasn't ten inches, but it wasn't far off either. Perhaps it could get to ten, but that thought both terrified and intrigued me. I bit down on my lip and swallowed hard.
"I'm guessing your general knowledge about the anatomy of a gay man is a little skewed" I finally said, as Harry remained half naked. "But, I hate to break it to you, that ain't fitting in me either".
He cocked his head like a confused puppy.
"But... But I watched... I watched gay porn" he told me, whispering the 'gay' part in case that somehow made him more gay than the fact that he was standing there with his cock and balls hanging out.
"Right" I nodded, "and that's porn. This..." I continued, and gestured around the room, "is not".
He rubbed his face with frustration and finally reached for his pants.
"Wait, wait, hold up" I said, and got to my feet, which felt like jelly, "that doesn't mean I can't try".
Harry stopped and stared at me, and a flicker of hope lit up his vibrant blue eyes.
"Really?" He gasped, and when he realised that his voice pitched too high, he coughed, and repeated the word in a more masculine tone.
Harry's cock would have ruptured every internal organ that I possessed. The thing looked large enough to be a method of execution, but I was prepared to meet the executioner, because turning down Harry Rotchberger was not on my agenda.
"I have lube" he told me, and stepped out of his pants, so that now he really was naked below the waist.
"Did you bring a bathtub full?" I asked, still unsure how my night had gone from watching a mind numbing documentary on Netflix, to staring at Harry's cock.
He pulled his hoodie over his head, and I realised that he'd worn nothing else but the hoodie, sweatpants and sneakers. He looked even more impressive than I ever would have expected. Every part of his body looked as though it had been carved. Each muscle, each ab, each vein. He was a masterpiece.
"So um... I don't really know how you gays... I mean, guys do this" he gulped, and his cheeks began to blush. "Do you like... I don't know. Do you want to suck it or..."
The words had barely left his mouth. In fact, by the time he finished the sentence, I was already on my knees in front of him.
The scent of him washed over me like a warm, delicious blanket of happiness. He was neither fresh, nor ripe, but at some sweet spot in the middle that allowed me to inhale the sweet aroma of a workout, as well as the faded masculine fragrance of a 9-in-1 body wash.
I picked his cock up in my hand and shouldn't have been as surprised by the weight of it as I was. It felt like a limb, and as soon as my fingers began to wrap around it, Harry's rod swelled.
"It gets bigger?" I asked, watching as the helmet became engorged.
"Not a lot" he grimaced, as though he was ashamed of it.
Thankfully, Harry was correct. Although the massive cock stiffened in my grasp, the actual length of it remained relatively similar. Despite that, I was now quite sure that the rumours weren't exaggerations after all.
"Oh yeah" he mumbled, as I began to slide my hand up and down it, peeling back his long, loose foreskin slightly further, and allowing his glans to be revealed fully.
His beefy arms hung down by his sides as he exhaled deeply. His head hung back, and Harry relaxed into the handjob.
None of it seemed real, but I'd think about all of that later. That's if I survived what was sure to be the hardest fuck I had ever taken.
With each stroke, Harry's heavy balls bounced. I leaned forward, still working his meat with my hand, and slid my tongue along his sack. He whistled, which seemed like a good thing.
"You sure know your way around a cock" he grunted, making a hissing sound between his teeth, "damn, that's good".
This was my one, and possibly only shot at making Harry so very impressed, that he'd have to return for more. I continued sucking on each of his balls as I jerked him off, and then I felt the thick bead of pre-cum pour down the underside of his shaft, and drench my hand.
I opened my mouth as wide as I possibly could, and took his helmet inside. The sharp flavour made my own cock dance in my underwear, and my tongue instantly lapped at his gaping cumslit, which continued to pour.
"Aw shit, man" he moaned, his hand finding the back of my head, "that's real good".
It felt like a tap had been turned on. Copious amounts of pre-spunk cascaded down my throat, and I swallowed it eagerly. I didn't want to waste a drop, but I had never come across somebody who could produce so much fluid at such an alarming rate. I wondered if his cock was so large that having that much natural lubrication was very much necessary.
"Don't worry about taking it all, bro" he breathed, slowly thrusting an inch or two deeper, "it's no big deal".
Perhaps Harry underestimated me. I was, after all, a gay man, and this wasn't my first cock-rodeo. I opened my throat as wide as I could, like some sort of exotic reptile, preparing for a feast, and fed more of his wet, salty meat into me. I watched as he stared down at me with eyes like saucers.
"Holy fucking shit" he gasped, as inch by inch, I swallowed his cock.
Admittedly, nothing of this magnitude had ever gone down my throat before, and as skilled as I was, after eight inches, I felt like I was about to burst. Harry, however, had been transported to a different dimension, and was shaking with pleasure.
"Oh man. Oh fuck, that's the best fucking head I've ever had".
He held me so gently that I began to wonder if it was even Harry at all. Had someone dressed up as the beautiful young man? Someone kind? He pumped more pre-cum into my stomach, and let out a long, loud grunt.
"Damn, dude, I could fucking cum right now!".
Part of me wanted him to. Part of me wanted to please him so much with my mouth, that maybe he'd forget about impaling my ass. And then another part could think of nothing better than Harry slamming deep into my hole, with the sound of his balls slapping off mine.
"I wanna eat your ass" he blurted, "let me eat your ass, dude".
