O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

Based Loaded 2

by stimle

Read previous part

Chapter Six - March 21

Robby's hands shook as he fumbled with his shoe laces. He was less than ten minutes into his run and already he'd stopped three times. He debated whether to continue or not - finally deciding to soldier on - and ran just a hundred yards or so before stopping yet again. Although there was a slight chill in the air, he was sweating. He stripped off his t-shirt, tucked it into the back of his shorts and started running again.

He was exhausted and couldn't find his rhythm. He'd hardly slept last night, but it was no wonder. Those pictures...

Last night after dropping Sara off, he'd gone home and logged onto his computer and, after checking his Facebook page, opened his email. There was a message from somebody he didn't recognize but the subject line read: 'Hey Robby - check out these new pics!!!' Intrigued, he opened the email and was prompted to click on a return receipt. He did so without thinking twice about it and nearly fell out of his chair at what he saw. The email contained a series of pictures - lurid pictures - of him in various stages of undress and then fully naked, spread-eagled on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. In some of the pictures he was asleep; in others he was awake and smiling. Always with a hard-on. In some shots he was wearing briefs - which was strange because he didn't own any. But pictures don't lie and there he was, sprawled out in white Calvin Klein briefs. And worse.

He stopped again, this time in the middle of the path, hands on his hips and head cocked slightly to one side. He gnawed at his lower lip as he stared straight ahead, eyes blinking quickly as he searched his mind for some shred of remembrance - mentally shuffling through the past few weeks trying to find some shard of memory to make sense of this debauchery.

A few people passed him on the path, jostling his mind back to the present, and he started running again in a vain attempt to clear his head. But he couldn't get his mind off the pictures. At first he thought somebody was playing some kind of sick, tasteless joke. Somebody must've Photoshopped his head on a bunch of pictures, but a closer look at them revealed no noticeable sign of manipulation. The pictures were definitely real but he had no idea how or when they could've been taken.

He'd saved them to a password protected folder on his hard drive and enlarged them, scouring them for clues. He hadn't recognized anything about the room he was in. Nothing looked familiar... absolutely nothing. The calendar over the bed showed January, but it was the end of March now. He thought back to January... January? Wait... He had gone skiing with Matt and Alex and a couple of the guys over New Years and one night Alex broke out a fifth of Jack Daniels and he'd gotten drunk. Well, not drunk. It was his first time drinking hard alcohol and after a couple of Jack and Cokes he'd gotten tipsy and Matt decided he'd had enough and suggested he call it a night. That's when it must've happened! But who? And why?

Alex! It had to be Alex. Dammit! But wait... things were good between them back then so why would Alex do that? And if it was meant as a joke, what would've been his motivation? Nothing was making sense. Who would do this to him and why?

"Hey Robby!" The voice jarred him back to reality. He turned to see Nash jogging toward him and he suddenly felt a chill course through him. Nash! Oh my god... he had gotten drunk at Nash's house last Friday night... But no, the calendar said January, and besides... this was Nash... he'd never do anything like that!

"Wait up, man!" Nash huffed as he sprinted the last few yards to catch up with him.

"Oh hey," Robby mumbled, slowing down as Nash pulled even with him. They both stopped.

Nash bent over, legs apart, catching his breath. "Dude, I've been yelling for like five minutes! I waited for you in the parking lot but Julie Penrose said she saw you out here already. What's up?"

"Sorry... my head's somewhere else," Robby apologized as they started running again. He forgot that he had agreed to meet Nash in the parking lot this morning. For the past couple of months they had been working out a few times a week and now that Spring was here they had started running outside instead of at the gym at the university. "What's up?"

"Not much. I need to go over my lesson plans and then I should probably run to Home Depot. What about you?" He looked over at Robby. "Whoah, you look like crap... what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Robby said, glad for the distraction the conversation was providing. "Just didn't sleep too good last night."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Robby nodded, settling back into his rhythm. "I'm fine."

"You been around the lake yet?" Nash asked, pointing to a turn-off a dozen yards or so down the path. Robby shook his head. From mid-November to early March the pathway around the lake was closed.

"I think they just re-opened it Wednesday."

"Let's check it out," Nash suggested. "It'll be a nice change of pace."

They ran together in near silence for about five minutes and were on the far side of the lake when Nash suddenly stumbled, twisting his ankle. Robby didn't notice and kept running.

"Hey, wait up a sec will ya?" Nash called as he gingery tested his ankle. He scrunched up his face. "Robby... Hey!"

Robby turned and jogged back to where Nash was shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Dude, you're running like you're possessed," Nash said. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Robby said distantly, staring off toward the lake.

"Okay," Nash said, a look of concern on his face. "Because if something's wrong you can talk to me."

"I know." He forced a smile. "It's nothing, really." He started running in place.

Nash pulled the trigger. "So, the email I sent you last night isn't bothering you at all?"

Robby stopped short, sucking in air like he'd been kicked in the gut. "What?" he finally managed to rasp, slowly turning to face Nash. "You sent that email...?"

Nash didn't respond, but the smile on his face was turning into a malevolent grin. He took a slow step toward Robby.

Robby took a reflexive step back as Nash approached. "Wwwhere did you get those pictures?" he stammered. "I... I... I've never done any of that stuff."

"Are you serious?" Nash asked. His voice was flat and even. "You don't remember?"

Robby shook his head.

"Last weekend? At my place." He took another step forward. "What... do you think anybody really passes out after only three drinks? Boy, you're dumber than I thought."

Robby felt cut by Nash's comment. He couldn't believe it. "No. Uh uh... Y...y...you did this?" he croaked, his voice suddenly dry. His head was reeling. "But why? Why would you do this to me? I thought we were friends."

"We are friends," Nash replied dully.

"What did I ever do to you?" Robby's voice was getting louder and higher pitched.

"Who said you did anything?" Nash sighed, exasperation creeping into his voice. "Geez, not everything's about you, you know. You sound just like Reese."

"What do you mean I sound just like Reese?" Robby asked, confused. He stared at Nash, open-mouth, and then it began to make sense. "Oh my god... he was right... Reese was right. You ARE jealous of him!"

"Jealous?!" Nash yelled, his voice cracking. "You're crazy... jealous?" He turned away, silent for a few moments as he fumed. Suddenly he whipped back around, his eyes blazing with a hard edge. "Do you know what I did for Reese?" he asked, his voice a jumble of suppressed rage and pain. "Do you know what I sacrificed for your brother? What I fucking gave up... for him?"

Nash's outburst took Robby by surprise and he took a quick step backward, nearly stumbling.

"Me and Reese were a team," he continued, his voice bitter. "But as soon as I can't pitch anymore what does he do? How does he pay me back? He tells everybody that I'm jealous?!"

Robby struggled to make sense of Nash's irate rant. "Geez, it wasn't Reese's fault you got hurt," he tried to reason. "What was he supposed to do? Give up his scholarship, too? That doesn't even make sense."

Nash didn't seem to hear him and rambled on. "I get hurt and what does Reese do? He moves out of our room... he fucking moves out! I come back from class one day and Kevin Baker is moving in. And Reese says it was to ‘spare my feelings.’ Whatever."

Robby looked quizzically at Nash, biting his lower lip as he tried to wrap his head around what he was hearing. Nash caught his look and turned away again, his face red, embarrassed that he'd lost control.

"Whatever," Nash said again, his voice suddenly subdued, as if all the air had been let out of his sails. "You don't know what you're talking about. Reese blows into town a couple of times a year and I only hear about it after he leaves. He totally ditched me... our friendship."

"That's not true and you know it," Robby said. "In fact he..." He stopped himself as he suddenly remembered what Reese had said in their conversation the previous Friday night.

"What?" Nash asked, turning to Robby. "What were you going to say?"

Robby clamped his mouth shut and stared at the ground for a moment. Part of him wanted to tell him that Reese was coming to visit - coming to see him to make things right - but he knew Reese had specifically asked him not to say anything...

He gathered his thoughts and looked at Nash. "Nothing. I wasn't going to say anything except... Except, if you have a problem with Reese you should to talk to him about it. Don't take it out on me."

"This doesn't have anything to do with Reese," Nash said, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"Are you serious?" Robby asked, his voice incredulous. "What was all that about then? If this doesn't have anything to do with him then why are you doing this do this to me?"

Nash didn't reply.

"What do you want then?" Robby asked, his mind racing. "Money? Do you want money?"

"Money?" Nash scoffed. "For what? What's money gonna do?"

"Well, what do you want then?" Robby asked, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "Why did you do that to me? Why did you take those pictures?"

Nash looked him straight in the eyes, locking him in an icy stare. "I want you."

Nash's glare frightened him and Robby took a step back. "What does that mean... you want me?" he asked, his voice small.

"I want you," Nash repeated, his voice oddly calm. "I own you. You do what I say or you're over."

"O...over? But why?" Robby asked, his mind racing. "Why do you want to hurt me?"

"Who said anything about hurting you?" Nash countered, taking a step forward.

"I... I... don't understand."

Nash took another step forward, his gaze still locked on him, not wavering. "Strip," he said without missing a beat.

Robby couldn't believe what he heard. "Strip? What? No way!" He clenched his fists and stood his ground, throwing his chest out.

"I said strip," Nash repeated, his voice low and his eyes narrowed to slits.

"Are you gay or something?"

Nash ignored the question. "You didn't even see half of what I got on you," he said, his voice hard.

Robby flinched slightly. He knew his bluff had been called and he tried to backtrack. "Can't we work this out or something?"

Nash shook his head. "Do you want your mom and dad to see what you were really up to last Friday night? How about Reese?"

Nash paused a moment as he let his words sink in, watching the expression on Robby's face turn from defiance to defeat. "And how long do you think you'll keep your scholarship at St. Bart's once I send copies of those pictures to the Dean? Of course, unless he's into boy on boy action. After all, it IS a Catholic school."

Robby didn't say anything. He stood where he was, frozen.

Nash took another step forward. "It's 8:15 in the morning. We're all alone on this path here. So lose your fucking shorts. Now!!!"

Robby jumped. Something in Nash's voice scared him. "If... if I do... can I have the stuff you got on me?"

"Yeah, because that's how it works," Nash quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your ass is mine until I say so."

"But..."

"But nothing," Nash cut him off. "I'm calling the shots here so shut up and strip."

Robby reached back and slowly pulled his t-shirt from the back of his shorts. He held it up to his chest, feeling exposed.

"Awww... are you nervous?" Nash asked, thrusting his lower lip out in a mock pout.

"I don't wanna do this," Robby whispered, looking at the ground.

"Then don't."

"But I don't want those pictures to get out."

"Oh, there's more than just pictures. There's a video, too."

"What?" Robby's eyes widened in horror.

"You heard me. Come on."

"Bu... but we're in public."

"There's a restroom over there," Nash gestured, pointing over Robby's shoulder. "There won't be anybody in there at this hour of the morning. You can get naked inside."

Not having a choice, Robby followed. He was nervous and scared but didn't know what else to do.

They reached the restroom and Nash swung the door open. "Okay, here we are," he said. "Now nobody will see us. Feel better?"

Robby didn't reply.

"Why do you look so scared?" Nash asked. Without waiting for a reply he continued with a shrug of his shoulders. "Geez, and you were so into it the other night. You should take a look at the video. It's good. A real You Tube Moment."

"I don't wanna see it and I don't want anybody else to, either," Robby snapped. "I was drunk. Or you drugged me... or something."

"Yeah, or something..." Nash said. "But it's your word against mine, and that's not what the pictures show. Or the video. I don't think anybody who looks at it is gonna see anything other than a world-class cocksucker going to town."

"Oh god..." Robby moaned. "You made me suck your cock?"

"Made you?" Nash laughed. "I didn't make you do anything. All I did was take it out and you were all over it. You couldn't get enough of it."

"Shut up."

"They say alcohol's like truth serum," Nash continued, baiting him. "That what you do while drunk is what you really wanna do. Who taught you how to suck cock like that anyway? Reese?"

"Screw you!" Robby shouted indignantly. "Reese isn't gay and neither am I. I like girls... I like Sara."

"Yeah, well, you could've fooled me," Nash smirked. "Now, I'm tired of asking so this will be the last time. Strip."

Robby nervously untied his running shorts, his fingers fumbling with the drawstring. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and slowly pushed them down, revealing several inches of his navy blue Fruit of the Loom boxer briefs.

"You're shaking," Nash observed. "Are you cold?"

Robby shook his head.

"Are you scared then? Why?"

"Because you're making me do this."

"Awww..." Nash mocked. "Shhhh..." He walked up to Robby and put his finger on his trembling lower lip.

Robby pulled back, visibly repulsed. "Don't touch me," he hissed, his body stiffening.

"Easy Robby..." Nash said. There was something in his voice that caused Robby to freeze. He ran his index finger lightly from Robby's lower lip to his chin and then down to his chest and finally all the way to his belly button. "And what if I DO touch you," he taunted, poking him firmly in the chest. "What're you gonna do?"

"C'mon, Nash," Robby said, his voice almost a whimper. He was backed up against the wall. "Please don't do this."

"That's right," Nash cooed, smiling sinisterly. "Beg, you little bitch."

"Please," Robby whispered. "Please don't ruin my life."

"Who says your life has to be ruined?" Nash asked, as he gently rolled Robby's nipple between his index finger and thumb, eliciting a small, startled gasp from the teen.

"W...what do you want from me?" Robby stammered, struggling to suppress the moan that was building up at the back of his throat. He tried to twist away from Nash's touch.

"I want you to do what you did the other night," Nash said. "Remember?" He put his right hand on Robby's shoulder, squeezed softly and gently pushed down, trying to ease Robby to his knees. He used his other hand to undo the drawstring on his own shorts.

Robby's eyes widened as he realized what Nash was doing. He jumped to his feet, shifting immediately from a defensive to offensive position and threw a right uppercut that connected solidly with Nash's chin, spinning him to the left and momentarily stunning him. Without missing a beat, he pushed past him and sprinted through the open door, yanking his shorts up as he went.

"Well... that didn't go over so well," Nash muttered to himself as he rubbed his jaw. He climbed to his feet and brushed himself off, unconsciously checking his elbow. He picked up Robby's shirt and held it to his nose, inhaling deeply, savoring the smell of sweat mixed with spice-scented deodorant.

 

Chapter Seven

As he walked back to his car Nash thought back to the night he drugged Robby. It had been so easy to slip the GHB into his drink. After all, Robby had no reason to think that he would do anything like that to him. By the time the unsuspecting kid had finished his second drink, it was too late...

For as long as he could remember, Nash knew he was different, and early on he realized he felt certain things around boys. Mostly it happened when he played sports, so initially he chalked it up to a sort of teammate dynamic. A camaraderie. An admiration - affection even. But then, somewhere along the line, he realized it was guys - not girls - that turned him on. Sweaty, good-looking, athletic guys. Jocks. His teammates. And as much as that thought freaked him out, it was nothing compared to the realization that somewhere along the line, in all their years of friendship... somehow he had fallen in love with his best friend, Reese Caldwell.

That realization had come his freshman year of college and rocked him to his core. Reese. Reese Caldwell. His best friend. The friend who was closer than a brother. As much as he tried, he couldn't deny it. He began to see Reese in a new light.

He and Reese were of similar build: Nash was an inch shorter than Reese's 6'2 and they were both about 180 pounds, but that's where any physical similarity ended. Reese had sandy brown hair and hazel eyes, while Nash's hair was a darker brown and his eyes were blue-grey.

Personality-wise they were different as night and day. Reese was laid back and easy going, and while Nash was more reserved and buttoned up, he had a rapier wit and a wicked, bawdy sense of humor.

Despite the differences, people often mistook them for brothers, something that had never really bothered Nash until his feelings for Reese began to cross those lines of brotherly love.

Being roommates with Reese that first year of college was both a revelation and an experience. Growing up he and Reese had spent a lot of time together, but living together now... seeing Reese getting dressed every morning... showering... getting undressed every night... lounging around the room half the time in nothing more than his underwear... well, it nearly drove Nash crazy.

Within two days of rooming together, Nash discovered Reese was a slob. Not a total slob - but a slob nonetheless. And he realized the only way the room was going to stay half-way clean was if he took the lead.

Their first time doing laundry was also an eye-opener. "What do you mean you've never done your own laundry before?" Nash asked, flabbergasted.

"I dunno," Reese mumbled, smiling sheepishly as he raked a hand through his hair. "My mom always does it at home."

"Yeah, well she's not here, is she?" Nash pointed out. "Did you figure you'd get some girl to do it? Or maybe just me?"

Reese shrugged as he dumped his basked into the washer - colors and whites alike.

"Oh no," Nash tsked, rolling his eyes as he good-naturedly pushed Reese away from the machine. "That's not the way you do it. Well, not unless you want your t-shirts and underwear to come out pink."

"Oh," Reese frowned leaning against another machine, looking helpless. "Well can you help me out?" He thrust out his lower lip and batted his eyes. "Please?"

"You're too much," Nash sighed in mock exasperation. "Okay, tell you what: I'll take care of doing laundry... and keeping the room picked up for that matter, but you have to buy all the snacks and beer. Deal?"

"Deal," Reese smiled, his face lighting up. He tousled Nash's hair. "I knew you were good for something other than baseball, Nashville."

Nash shot him an annoyed smile upon hearing Reese's nickname for him and tossed an elbow as he began sorting clothes.

_________

A few weeks after school started Reese went out one night with a few of the guys from their floor. Nash had a test the next morning so he stayed home to study. Shortly after 1:00 a.m., there was a knock on the door. He got out of bed, pulled on some sweat bottoms and opened the door to find Reese, shit-faced drunk, being held up by Kevin Baker and Luke Stout.

"See, I told you he'd be up," Reese slurred, a goofy smiled plastered across his face. "Hey there, Nashville."

"Hey there back to you, Count Drunkula," Nash said drolly, his eyebrow arched as he stepped aside so the guys could bring Reese inside.

"Look, he's doing that thing with the eyebrow again," Reese pointed, covering his face with his hands. "He's Spocking me! Look!"

"Oh good grief," Nash said as he pointed out Reese's bed and watched as they flopped him down. He stifled a yawn and rubbed his eyes. "How much did he have?"

"I dunno," Luke shrugged, his hands jammed in his pockets. "A lot, though. Rick Madison challenged him to Bus Driver."

"Bus Driver?" Nash asked as he stretched, his back and neck popping. He was pretty sure it was a drinking game.

"Yeah," Kevin said. After he explained the gist of the game, he continued. "They were drinking Captain and Coke. Pretty strong, too," he added.

"Uh huh," Nash said, nodding as he looked over his shoulder at Reese. "I know how Reese loves his Captain. And how's Rick?"

"Ricky's driving the fuckin' porcelain bus!" Reese yelled from the bed as he struggled to sit up. "I kicked his ass!"

"Down boy," Nash shushed, trying to keep from laughing as he closed the door. "You're gonna wake the RA."

"Oh, whoops!!!" Reese whispered loudly. "Sorry. Ricky was spewing chunks when we left. Wasn't he, Kevin?"

"Yeah," Kevin laughed, shaking his head as he recalled the scene. "If you think Reese is bad, you should see Rick. He ralphed all over his shirt."

"And Jenny Marra!" Luke snorted.

Nash cringed at the thought. "Well, thanks for getting him here in one piece, guys. I appreciate it. See ya at lunch?"

"You bet," Luke said. "Night man."

"Good night," Nash said as he closed the door behind them and locked it. He turned to Reese. "Okay you, time for bed." Reese was already asleep.

"Oh hell, no," Nash muttered in exasperation as he walked across the room and shook Reese's shoulder. "Hey, wake up and get undressed for bed. You can't sleep like that, you fool," he said. Reese didn't stir. He was normally a heavy sleeper anyway, but now he was out cold and nothing was going to wake him up.

"Great," Nash sighed as he put his hands on his hips. He couldn't leave him the way he was.

He grabbed Reese by the shoulders and hoisted him to a sitting position. "God you're heavy," he grunted. As he lifted his Indianapolis Colts t-shirt up, the knuckles of his right hand grazed one of his nipples and Reese moaned slightly.

He pulled his hand back quickly and looked down at Reese's face. His eyes were open slightly but they were heavy-lidded and glazed. His head was lolled on his shoulder and he appeared to be completely out of it. He looked so peaceful and Nash knew there was no way he was going to wake up, let alone remember any of this. He took a deep breath, hesitated, and then touched Reese's other nipple, this time giving it a slight tweak: Reese moaned again. He stroked his pec, tracing a lazy circle around the nipple with his index finger, letting his fingernail gently rake across the sensitive flesh. Another moan. Holy shit!

Biting his lower lip, Nash stripped Reese's shirt completely off and eased him back onto the bed. He took another deep breath, let it out, and grabbed the front of Reese's jeans with both hands, trembling as he popped the button, revealing a white Champion waistband.

His heart was already beating fast, but it began to race when he spied the white of Reese's briefs. He stood up and gulped. Nash had often wondered where his 'thing' for white briefs had come from (he was loathe to call it a fetish - too many hinky connotations) because ever since he could remember he'd always a fascination with them. Growing up he'd spent many furtive moments ogling pictures of men in their underwear from his mom's JC Penney and Sears catalogs, his stomach doing flips and his crotch tingling. And now... well, he couldn't believe Reese was right here, passed out, wearing white briefs.

Earlier in the semester Nash learned that Reese wore whatever underwear was on top of the stack in the drawer they shared. One day he decided to put all of Reese's briefs on top of the stack and shoved his boxer briefs and boxers off to the side and to the back of the drawer. Reese didn't seem to notice and continued to wear whatever was on top. As the days passed Nash made sure to keep Reese's white Champion briefs in heavy rotation.

He stared down at Reese now, chewing his lower lip with indecision. Part of him knew what he was thinking was wrong and was a betrayal of his best friend; but the other part of him was telling him to go for it. It was all innocent, he tried told himself. Besides, Reese would never know.

He stood there for several minutes, a silent debate raging inside, until, finally, the demons shouted down the better voices in his head. He unzipped Reese's jeans and spread the flaps apart and stared wide-eyed and open-mouth at his best friend's full basket.

He got down on his knees and sniffed Reese's crotch, the heady, musky smell a delight to his senses. Without thinking he grabbed Reese's jeans and whisked them down to his knees. He clumsily removed his socks and shoes and pulled them all the way off.

He crawled on the bed, straddled Reese's body and buried his face in his crotch, nuzzling his balls with his nose and chin. He couldn't believe what he was doing, but couldn't bring himself to stop either. He flicked his tongue out and swirled it in Reese's naval. Reese, passed out, was non-responsive.

Unable to resist any longer, Nash reached out and put his hands on Reese's hips, letting his fingers glide across the fabric of his underwear, feeling the taut muscles beneath. He gently fondled Reese, mesmerized by the sight of the white cotton that hugged his lithe, athletic body. He brushed the back of his left hand softly up and down Reese's long legs, sliding it up his inner thigh to let it rest on the pouch of his briefs. He cupped his balls, gently feeling their heft through the soft material. He watched Reese's face as he did, noting how his eyes flickered back and forth under his eyelids, an indication that he was deep in REM sleep.

Using is other hand, he began to earnestly work Reese's cock through his briefs, not daring to reach under the elastic waistband. Either that was an erotic dream Reese was having or Nash's fingers were doing their intended job because his dick began to lengthen in his briefs, going fully erect for several minutes, pushing up and to the left, its full eight inches pulsing and twitching while Reese softly groaned.

Still cupping and kneading Reese's balls, periodically reaching up to thumb or squeeze the tip of his prick, Nash reached up with his free hand and rubbed Reese's smooth flat belly, tracing the trail of light brown hair down to the waistband of his briefs. Then he moved his hand slowly back up his chest until he reached his nipples. They were a pale pink in color and he almost jumped out of his skin when he felt them harden under his touch. A moment ago they were soft and rubbery, but now they were like tacks, pointy and erect!

He flicked at one and heard Reese softly grunt. He flicked it again and then rolled it between his thumb and index finger, feeling Reese's cock twitch as he did so. It was like his nipples were somehow connected to his dick because the more he played with them the more his dick seemed to pulse.

And suddenly he wanted to suck Reese's dick. The thought surprised him because to that point he had never even had his own cock sucked. But he wanted Reese's dick... wanted to pull his briefs down and tuck them under his balls, take the length of that hard cock deep into his throat and taste it. To savor it. Badly.

But he resisted the urge and instead ran his nose and lips over Reese's cock and balls, sniffing and blowing on them through the thin cotton. A small wet spot had formed where the tip of Reese's dick pushed and strained against his briefs and Nash lapped at it, tasting the sweet saltiness of the pre-cum. He grabbed Reese's dick through his underwear and began to pump it back and forth - slowly at first and then more and more quickly - while at the same time pinching his erect nipples.

Reese groaned and began to thrust his hips as his dick throbbed and pulsed. Suddenly his back arched, he let out a loud grunt and his cock began to wildly twitch as his nuts pulled up and he began cumming. Nash watched wide-eyed as the small wet spot got larger and larger, soaking the material until the thin white cotton was nearly transparent.

Reese sighed contentedly as his orgasm subsided and rolled onto his side with a low groan. Nash sat back on his haunches, still in awe at what he'd just witnessed. He felt a wet sensation in his crotch and looked down to see a wet spot spreading across the crotch of his sweat pants. Whoah... he'd shot a load without even touching himself!

Just as he figured, Reese didn't remember a thing the next morning, and he certainly didn't tip Nash off to the fact that he woke up with his briefs crusted with dried cum. And although Nash felt an immeasurable sense of guilt over what he had done and had a hard time looking at his roommate for the next two days, Reese was blissfully unaware. Nash eventually justified his actions by convincing himself that Reese most likely enjoyed what had happened and probably even needed it.

Reese got drunk like that a few more times before the school year ended, and on those nights Nash would turn on a portable heater to increase the likelihood of him sleeping on top of his blankets. He was frequently rewarded by the tactic, but wouldn't allow himself to do anything more than fondle or grope him through his underwear, often times to orgasm. He did, however, take pictures and video of Reese each time it happened, which he would masturbate to over the next several days and then, out of guilt, delete.

_______________

It was the end of semester sophomore year, during finals, when Nash's next opportunity arose with somebody other than Reese. Reese had finished his exams three days earlier and had already left for home while Nash had one final left and would be heading back the next afternoon.

He was on his way to the library for a last minute study session, deep in thought, when somebody grabbed his arm. It was Austin Birch.

Austin was a fifth year senior who was finishing up classes that semester. He lived down the hall from Nash and Reese, and they had become good friends over the past year and a half. Nash liked Austin's carefree attitude and his throaty laugh. Like Nash, Austin had a quick wit and a wicked sense of humor, but right now it was Austin's body - a body that looked like it had just stepped out of the pages of Men's Fitness - that was causing a tingle in Nash's crotch. Austin had modeled in the past and had worked as a shirtless greeter at the Abercrombie & Fitch store the year before.

"What's up, man?" Nash asked as Austin stopped him now, his eye catching site of the new tribal tattoo that encircled Austin's right upper bicep. "Hey, sweet tattoo."

"Thanks," Austin said, his brown eyes twinkling as he flashed his white teeth. "I just got it the other day. You doing anything tonight?"

Nash shrugged as he quickly took in Austin's 6'3 frame. "Not really. Got my last exam in a couple hours and then I was gonna finish packing. Why? What's up?"

Austin smiled again and ran this hand through his wavy dark blond hair. "I just finished my last final this morning and I'm outta here for good tomorrow. I was gonna go to Cutters tonight and was hoping you'd come with."

Cutters was a small dive bar a few miles away. "Yeah, I'd love to but I'm not 21 and I don't have a fake ID."

"You don't need an ID if you're with me," Austin said. "Bartender's a friend of mine."

"I'm in then," Nash said, blushing. The mere proximity to Austin was giving him a boner.

"Cool. I'll come to your room around nine," Austin said as he walked down the hall, Nash's eyes riveted to his ass.

Austin suddenly stopped and turned around and Nash had to quickly avert his eyes. "Oh, one more thing," he asked. "Can you drive? My truck's loaded down with all my shit."

"Sure, no prob," Nash smiled innocently.

It was a few minutes before 9:00 p.m., and Nash had just finished dressing and was brushing his teeth, when Austin banged on his door and walked in. "You decent man?" he asked, poking his head into the bathroom.

Nash spit into the sink and rinsed. He put his toothbrush away and grabbed a towel to wipe his mouth. "Yeah, just let me grab my stuff."

Nash locked his door and he and Austin were heading out to the parking lot when they bumped into Rick Madison. Rick was a former high school tennis star from Savannah, Georgia. He was about Nash's height and had dark - almost black - hair and brown eyes. And his body... well... damn...

"Where you guys off to?" Rick asked. He was sweating and panting and looked like he'd just come from a run.

"Cutters," Nash said. He didn't see the look Austin shot his way.

"Cool. Can I come with?" Rick asked, his eyes bright.

"Uh, sure... Austin?"

Austin covered his grimace with a quick smile that was not lost on Nash. "Sure," he shrugged. "But we're leaving right now."

"Oh, okay. Sure," Rick said. "I'll jump in the shower and meet you guys there."

"Sounds good," Nash said as Rick went inside. He turned to Austin. "What was that about? I thought you guys were friends?"

"You kidding me?" Austin grumbled as he rolled his eyes. "I can't stand the guy. He's a total douche."

"Oh. Well, I only said he could come because I thought he was your friend," Nash explained.

"I thought he was yours."

"No," Nash shook his head. "I mean, yes. No. Well, not really. There's something about him... I can't put my finger on it..."

"He's a starfucker," Austin declared, his contempt-laced voice jarring Nash back to the present. "And a total phony."

"I kinda figured," Nash said slowly. "I've just never been good at giving the brush-off."

"That's because you're too nice a guy," Austin said sincerely. "But be careful - Rick's a user."

"Sounds like you have first-hand experience?"

"Yeah," Austin said. "Just watch your back."

_______________

They were on their second beer when Rick came through the front door with a stacked redhead. They walked over to the booth. "Guys, this is Shari. Shari, this is Austin and Nash."

Shari smiled at them and turned to Rick. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Rick slid into the booth across from Nash and dug into his pocket. He dropped a small zip lock bag filled with pills onto the table. "Check these out," he said. "Sweet, huh?"

"What are those?" Nash asked.

"GHB," Rick replied. He saw the confusion on Nash's face. "Roofies," he explained. "Well, same thing. Just got 'em tonight. There's gotta be at least fifty in here! I'm set for the rest of the year now."

"Put that shit away and shut the fuck up," Austin whispered, clearly irritated at Rick. "Somebody's gonna hear you and then we're all gonna get arrested for date rape."

"What?" Nash asked, sitting straight up in his seat. "Arrested?"

"Chill out guys," Rick said, sitting back. "Nobody's gonna get arrested. Get us another pitcher and two more glasses, will ya Nash?" Nash looked at Austin who nodded to him.

As he got up to get the beers he watched Rick open the baggie and dump a number of pills onto a napkin, wad it up and slide it to Austin. Austin pushed it back but Rick grabbed the napkin and shoved it into the pocket of Austin's coat.

Nash shook his head as he walked to the bar. Why would a good looking guy like Rick need to use drugs on somebody? Austin was definitely right about him. He shrugged inwardly as he ordered another pitcher from the bartender along with two more glasses and brought it back to the table. Shari was still in the bathroom.

"Sweet," Rick said as he took one of the glasses, dropped a pill into it and filled it with beer. "Twenty minutes and I'm in heaven."

"You know man, it's not cool if you have to use that shit to score," Austin said in disgust.

"Lighten up, dude," Rick sneered as he closed the plastic bag and shoved it into the inner pocket of his jacket. "Like you've never tried 'em."

"As a mater of fact, I never have," Austin said as he brought his glass to his lips. "I can get any chick in this place I want... without drugs. Fuck, probably any dude, too." He drained the glass as Nash did a double-take, his dick suddenly hard in his jeans.

"Whatever," Rick replied, shrugging.

Shari came back to the table but instead of sitting down she grabbed Rick's arm and pulled him from the booth. "Let's dance."

Rick smiled as he followed, swinging around to flash Austin a thumbs up. Austin shook his head derisively and reached into his jacket pocket. He fished out the roofies Rick had stashed there and shoved them into the pocket of Rick's coat along with the others.

"What a fucking tool," he said, grabbing his beer and taking a swig.

Nash laughed. "Yeah... I guess you were right about him."

"We should probably toss that beer," Austin suggested. Just then his cell phone rang and he looked at the screen. "It's my dad," he said. "Probably just calling to check what time I'm leaving tomorrow. It's loud in here so I'm gonna take this outside. It'll only take a sec."

Nash sat alone at the booth, his mind spinning. He couldn't believe what Rick was about to do to that girl. He was tempted to switch their beers - give Rick the one with the roofie just to see how he liked it - but then Shari would know something was happening and Austin was right and they'd all be busted. Plus, Rick and Shari would see if he tossed one of the glasses... His mind raced as he tried to come up with a solution. Suddenly an idea hit him.

He looked at the dance floor: Rick was busy groping Shari. He turned to the door: no sign of Austin. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He clenched and unclenched his fists, wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, and then quickly reached across the table and switched Austin and Shari's beers.

He drummed his fingers on the table for a few seconds, his eyes riveted to Rick's jacket and the corner of the napkin that stuck out of the pocket. The napkin that was wrapped around all those pills. He bit his lower lip as he looked around the bar. Nobody was paying attention. He reached under the table, hand flailing until he found the pocket of Rick's jacket, and carefully pulled the napkin out. He glanced up again: Austin was still outside and Rick was still dancing, flashing his smarmy grin. What Nash wouldn't do to smack that smile off his face. Another idea hit him... he reached back to Rick's jacket and took the remaining roofies and shoved them all in his pocket. Rick'd probably think Austin took them to teach him a lesson and with Austin leaving tomorrow... well, he'd never be able to prove it.

He felt a tap at is shoulder... Austin was back. Shit! Did he see him switch the beers? Did he see him snag the roofies? He hadn't had more than five seconds to think his plan through. What was he supposed to do when the roofie in Austin's beer started to kick in? What if Austin figured it out?

He was still mulling the thoughts in his head as Austin slid into the booth next to him, reached across the booth to grab his beer and took a long drink... nearly half the glass! He waited another few seconds until Austin lifted it to his mouth again.

"Dude, wait," Nash said, frantically grabbing Austin's wrist.

"What?" Austin asked, looking at him with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Shit..." Nash hissed, his voice edged with mortification as he studied the glass.

"What? What's wrong?" Austin asked

"You drank the wrong beer," Nash said. "That was Shari's... the one with the roofie in it!"

"What?"

"Yeah," he rushed to explain. "I was gonna toss it but they were both looking so I switched your beer with hers instead, you know, in case they came back and then I was gonna toss yours and get you a new one..."

He braced himself. He was sure Austin was going to be pissed... that he would know what he did... But Austin just chuckled. "Well, shit. I should probably get my ass out of here before I pass out," he said, standing up. He looked at Nash's glass. "How many've you had? You okay to drive?"

"Yeah, um... I'm fine,"Nash stammered. "But what about Rick?" Truth be told, he could care less about Rick, but he needed to cover all his bases just in case.

"Fuck Rick Madison," Austin said. "If I never see that asshole again it'll be too soon. But let's go before you have to sling my ass over your shoulder and somebody starts to put two and two together."

Austin then drank down the rest of his beer as Nash looked on wide-eyed. "What?" he shrugged, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why should I waste a perfectly good beer?"

As they got into the car and pulled out of the parking lot, Nash couldn't help but smile at how well his impromptu plan was coming together. He didn't want too look eager so he kept quiet for a few minutes, trying to look as remorseful as possible. But the boner in his jeans was making it hard to concentrate.

"Geez, I'm really sorry Austin," he apologized again after they'd driven a few miles. He glanced over at Austin who was slumped in his seat, visibly fading. His eyelids were beginning to droop and his head was nodding.

"Sokay," Austin mumbled, licking his dry lips. "Feel funny... but not funny," he giggled.

"You should lean the seat back, man," Nash suggested. "Here, let me help." He gripped the steering wheel with his left hand and reached across Austin, hand groping, until he found the lever to recline the seat.

"Mmmm... thanks," Austin murmured as Nash pushed the seat all the way back. "G'night."

Nash decided to make small talk as he waited for the drug to kick in. "Are you gonna do any more modeling?"

"Modeling?" Austin laughed, dragging his eyes open. "Nah, I think I'm done with that."

"Why?"

"I just did it to make some extra money," he yawned. "I don't think I'm cut out for it, though. Too much poking and prodding for my taste. And I think the last dude who shot me was taking pics for his personal collection."

"Really? How do you figure?"

"They take test shots. Polaroids. Supposed to be quick and easy, but the last time I think I spent about three hours in my underwear. I'm pretty sure the guy was getting off on it."

"Oh," was all Nash could think of to say. He'd have killed to see those pictures. He glanced over again to see that Austin's head had lolled onto his shoulder and his breathing had deepened as he fell further into the grip of the drug. Nash knew how roofies worked - there'd been a lecture during freshman year orientation about the dangers of date rape. He knew Austin would be in and out of consciousness, but wouldn't remember anything that happened probably from the time he got into the car until he woke up tomorrow. He kept looking over, his eyes lingering longer and longer on Austin's crotch. Finally, unable to resist any further, he pulled off the side of the road.

He reached over and unlatched Austin's seatbelt and then gingerly pulled his shirt from his low-slung jeans, exposing his abs and the waistband of his underwear. Hmmm... 2xist... He raised his eyebrows and wondered if they were boxer briefs or briefs. He'd seen Austin shirtless several times but never in his underwear. He really hoped they were briefs and licked his lips at the thought.

And then another thought hit him... he could use the roofies he snagged on Reese! He felt an immediate twinge of guilt but still almost creamed his jeans at the mere thought of Reese spinning helplessly in a roofie haze... guaranteed not to remember a thing... But first things first: Austin.

He smiled as his right hand drifted over the front of Austin's jeans, his fingers brushing faded denim as he cupped and fondled the drugged stud's bulge. He tugged the zipper down and slipped his hand inside, his fingers touching the elastic of the leg bands, quickly determining that Austin was indeed wearing briefs. "Nice!"

"Mmmmm..." Austin moaned softly, obviously turned on by the feeling but oblivious to whom the hand belonged.

Nash started the car and pulled back onto the road. With one hand on the steering wheel he unbuckled Austin's belt and popped the button of his jeans. His eyes never leaving the road, he managed to push the briefs down under Austin's balls and took his now semi-erect cock into his hand, playing with it until it was fully erect. He drove the last couple of miles back to school with Austin's cock in his hand, slowly pumping it the entire way.

The campus was fairly deserted when they got back and there were only a half dozen or so cars in their dorm parking lot. He pulled into a space near a side entrance and hastily buttoned Austin's jeans, not bothering to zip his fly or buckle his belt. He jumped out of the car and helped him out.

"We're here," he mumbled as he half-carried, half-dragged his friend across the short distance, over the icy parking lot, and inside to the elevator. Had anybody been around to witness this, they would've assumed Austin was drunk and was being helped inside by Nash.

He got Austin inside his room and kicked the door shut behind him. He flopped him onto Reese's bed, watching as he landed flat on his back, arms splayed out at his sides and his t-shirt up just under his rib cage, exposing his abs and the light brown treasure trail that disappeared into his jeans. His fly was gaping open, the white of his underwear standing out in stark contrast to the denim material and his tanned skin.

He stood over Austin for several moments, his eyes taking in every inch of his body as his mind raced through all the possibilities. Where to start?

"Well, first things first," Nash said out loud as he grabbed the hem of Austin's shirt. "Let's get you undressed."

He pulled Austin into a sitting position, struggling and maneuvering until he finally managed to strip his shirt off. He let him free fall back onto the bed and softly laid the palm of his hand on his flat belly, tracing circles on the warm flesh with his thumb, venturing lower and lower with each passing arc until he reached the elastic of his briefs.

He yanked Austin's belt off, unbuttoned the jeans and worked them down his long muscled legs. Then he slipped Austin's shoes off and pulled the jeans all the way off. Austin was now clad only in his white 2xist briefs and grey athletic socks, the erection from the ride home gone.

"Oh my god..." Nash breathed as he slowly groped his own crotch through his jeans, squeezing his erect shaft. He bit his lower lip as he continued to touch himself. After a minute he came back to his senses. He rummaged through his half-packed room and found his camera. He checked the battery and, satisfied, licked his lips and began to snap pictures of his drugged friend.

He crawled on the bed and knelt over Austin, straddling him. His hands were everywhere - chest, pecs, abs. He slid his hands around Austin and down his back, grabbing at his ass cheeks, firmly squeezing and massaging. He used his knee to push Austin's legs further apart and then dipped his head low to nuzzle Austin's crotch with his chin and nose, inhaling his masculine, musky scent. He playfully nipped at Austin's cock through his briefs and played with his balls until he felt his friend getting hard again.

Feeling none of the guilt he had with Reese, he tugged Austin's briefs down just below his nuts and lapped at them with his tongue. He wrapped his fist around Austin's erect cock and slowly thumbed the prick tip while at the same time taking his balls into his mouth. Austin grunted and arched his back. Nash took a deep breath and gently kissed up and down the length of Austin's erect shaft, finally reaching the head. Taking another deep breath, he sucked Austin's dick into his mouth.

"Mmmm..." Austin moaned, his voice low and distant. His hands fumbled through Nash's hair ad Nash gagged and choked as Austin pushed his head down on his cock. Nash did his best to keep his teeth from the sensitive skin as he bobbed up and down, gamely attempting his first blow job.

After few moments he felt Austin's hips thrust and his balls contract and then, before he knew it, Austin grunted a final time and began to pump his load into his suctioning mouth. Nash didn't miss a beat and swallowed every drop.

When he was finished he stood up and stepped back, wiping his mouth with his fingers and then pausing to look at them. His initial mortification slowly faded and a smile crept across his lips. He licked his lips.

Tucking Austin's now-flaccid cock back into his briefs, he was suddenly aware that his own cock was painfully hard in his jeans. He quickly stripped down to his briefs, which were tented out with his throbbing erection, and jumped back on the bed.

He crawled up to Austin's face and lowered them, playfully slapping his hard cock against his cheeks and ran it across his lips. The stubble from Austin's five o'clock shadow tickled his sensitive glans and before he could stop himself he was involuntarily spewing his cum across Austin's handsome face.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he cursed as he jumped up off the bed, shoving his dick back into his briefs. He'd meant to jerk off, not to baste Austin's face with it! Shit!!

He went to the bathroom, wet a wash cloth with warm water and gently scrubbed Austin's face clean. Satisfied that all remnants of his 'dishonorable discharge' were gone, he reluctantly re-dressed Austin and covered him with a blanket.

He went back into the bathroom, stripped and took a long, hot shower as he thought about what he had done. He just sucked his first cock! He sucked Austin Birch's cock and swallowed his cum... Fuck! And he wasn't even grossed out by it. His dick was hard again and he stroked himself as he replayed the previous hour over and over in his head, finally grunting as he shot another load of cum against the wall of the shower.

After toweling off and throwing on a clean pair of underwear and sweat bottoms, he crawled into his bed. As he lay there, sleep eluding him, he smiled as he thought of the plastic baggie full of roofies now in his possession... and all the possibilities it held.

The next morning Nash feigned sleep when Austin woke up. He peered through his eyelids as Austin looked around him in confusion at his surroundings.

"What the fuck?" Austin muttered softly as he sat up. He finally noticed Nash lying in the bed across the room. "Dude..." he said softly, his voice gravelly. "Nash. Hey... you up?"

Nash opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbow. "Hey," he said.

"What happened?" Austin asked as he rubbed his eyes. "How'd I get here?"

"You don't remember?" Nash asked, sitting up, his sheet sliding down to his waist.

Austin shook his head. "No... I don't re..." he paused and he hesitated a moment. "Oh, wait..."

"Yeah?" Nash held his breath, chewing hip lip.

"I drank the wrong beer..." He shook his head slowly and began laughing. "I can't believe we got the fuckin' beers mixed up!"

"Yeah... sorry about that," Nash apologized sheepishly. "I shoulda noticed. Shoulda stopped you sooner."

"No, it's okay," Austin laughed again as he threw back his blankets and swung his feet over the side of the bed. "It's kinda funny if you think about it... I slipped myself a roofie!"

Nash chuckled as well as he got out of bed and reached for his jeans. He slipped his sweats off and then turned his back as he pulled his pants on, not wanting Austin to see the major wood he was sporting. "I just feel bad," he said over his shoulder, reaching for his shirt. "I mean..."

"Don't sweat it," Austin interrupted him with a wave of his hand. "But dude... next time if you're not gonna take my jeans off, at least empty my pockets." He reached into his front pocket and yanked out his keys. "These fuckin' things are killing me!"

Nash put up his hands. "Hey," he smiled. "I didn't want you to wake up this morning and think I molested you or anything."

"Yeah, right," Austin laughed as he stretched and patted at his disheveled hair. "Like you would ever. Beside, I think I'd know if somebody fucked me." He ran his tongue over his teeth and scrunched up his face. "Echh... I gotta brush my teeth, though... my mouth tastes like ass!"

A few hours later Austin left for home and Nash started his drive back to Indiana. Sure, he had Austin's cell phone number and email address and such, and they were friends on Facebook, but he was still going to miss seeing his friend everyday.

_______________

A couple of weeks later Nash was back at school for Intercession. It was a last minute decision, but a class he wasn't able to take first semester was suddenly being offered and it was too good an opportunity to pass up, even if it meant less time skiing and snowboarding and just hanging out with Reese and his other friends back home.

He heard that Rick Madison was taking the same class and as much as he disliked the idea of being in a classroom with Rick for three hours a day, the thought of the roofies and the potential opportunity to get some payback made him smile.

As much as he tried to avoid him after class - without being too obvious about it - he and Rick ended up hanging out a number of times during the three-week Intercession, and the more time he spent with him the more Nash realized how much he didn't like him. Rick Madison was a prick: an arrogant rich kid with a big ego and an even bigger sense of self-entitlement, whose Southern charm belied a cockiness that made your head spin.

On his way back from the campus gym one night, he noticed Rick's door open a few inches and decided it was now or never. He slipped past and hurried to his room, dug out the stash of roofies and slipped one in the pocket of his sweats. He took a deep breath and walked back down to Rick's room. He knocked as he opened the door. Rick was lying on his bed in jeans and a t-shirt, listening to his iPod touch and leafing through the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. He put the magazine down and pulled out his earbuds when he saw Nash in his doorway.

"Hey man," Rick smiled. "How goes it?"

"Good," Nash replied. "Just got back from the gym. You?"

"Going over my reading from earlier," Rick said, gesturing to a book next to his knee. "Stuff's boring as hell and all sounds the same after a while. It was putting me to sleep so I decided to take a break." He leaned over and reached into a small refrigerator next to his bed. "You wanna beer or something?"

"Nah, no thanks," Nash replied as Rick twisted off the top and took a drink. "Maybe another time. I gotta shower and finish my reading."

"Yeah, okay." He swung his legs off the bed. "I gotta take a piss," he said as he set his beer down on the fridge and stepped into his bathroom, closing the door partway.

"You know, I'm still pissed that Austin tossed all my roofies," he yelled over his shoulder. "What a dick. You and I could be having some fun right now."

Nash couldn't help but smile at Rick's comment. He pulled the roofie from his pocket and quickly dropped it into the beer. It was easier than he thought.

He heard the toilet flush and he moved back to the door. Rick flopped onto his bed, grabbed his beer and took a swig.

"What'd he do with them anyway?" Rick asked. "He didn't give them to you, did he?"

"No," Nash replied truthfully as he leaned against the doorframe. "He didn't give them to me."

"Mmm," Rick snorted, leafing through the magazine and taking another drink. "He used to be a cool guy."

Nash took this as his cue to leave. "Well, I'm gonna grab that shower now."

"Yeah, okay," Rick said without looking up. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Nash closed the door as he left, leaving it open a crack just like he'd found it. "No, I'll see you in about twenty minutes," he muttered, glancing at his watch as he walked to his room.

The next twenty minutes were the longest twenty minutes of his life. He was in and out of the shower in a matter of moments and practically wore a hole in the carpet as he paced back and forth, his eyes never leaving the clock on his wall. Finally, feeling it was long enough for the drug to kick in, he grabbed his backpack, which he had carefully packed a week ago, and practically sprinted to Rick's room.

He came to a screeching halt about ten feet from the door and gingerly tip-toed the rest of the way. He peered into the room. Rick was lying on his back, eyes closed, magazine in his lap and his iPod still on.

Nash slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. He locked it and turned to the bed. He licked his lips.

He hadn't been prepared that time with Austin. It was spur of the moment and he wasn't sure of his limits, but this time he was prepared. He walked over to the bed, set the backpack down and shook Rick's shoulder.

"Rick, dude," he said as he leaned over. "How about that beer now?"

No response. He took the magazine from Rick's lap and laid set it on his night stand, careful to keep it open to the same page. Then he took the earbuds from Rick's ears and turned off his iPod. Rick stirred momentarily and then settled back down.

Nash reached into the backpack and took out his digital camera. He stepped back and snapped off a couple of shots. He reached back in and pulled out a couple of dad's old silk ties, a bottle of water and a plastic baggie containing a few Viagra pills. He put a Viagra on Rick's tongue and tilted a bottle of water to his mouth. "Dude," he whispered, nudging his shoulder. "Drink."

"Unngghh..." Rick moaned as he stirred again. He managed to drag his eyes open, but Nash could see they were unfocused and glassy. Yeah, Rick wasn't seeing a thing. "Wha...?"

"Drink up, asshole," Nash urged, tipping the bottle up. Rick blinked heavily, twice, and nodded. Nash held the back of his head while he swallowed a quarter of the bottle, water running over his lips and down the side of his face. Then he set his head back down and got to work. He took the neckties and tied Rick's wrists to the headboard.

He pulled Rick's t-shirt up and played with his nipples. Nothing. He tweaked them a little harder. Still nothing. Interesting. He reached down and undid the button of Rick's jeans. A quick flick of his wrist and the button-fly popped all the way open revealing blue and grey striped boxer briefs. He recognized them as Gap.

"Hmmm," Nash murmured as he stood up and took in the site before him. He ran his tongue over his teeth and licked his upper lip. He rummaged through Rick's drawers but didn't find what he was looking for. He turned around and spied Rick's keys on his desk, grabbed them and poked his head out the door. Satisfied nobody was watching, he locked the door behind him and hurried down the hall to his room. He quickly found what he wanted and rushed back to Rick's room.

Once back inside, he locked the door and tossed the white Champion briefs onto the bed next to Rick. He considered what he was doing for a moment but quickly pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind.

He walked over to the bed. "Rick," he said as he slapped at his flushed cheeks. "Dude... wake up."

Rick struggled to open his eyes but they were heavy-lidded and unfocused and Nash knew he was completely under the spell of the roofie.

"Whaaaa..." Rick muttered, his voice thick and distant. Nash stripped his boxer briefs down and slid the briefs up his long legs. "Nice," he said out loud as he cupped Rick's balls and played with his flaccid cock.

Nash then stripped down to his briefs, spread Rick's legs and knelt between them. He grabbed Rick's thighs and pushed his knees up. He bent down and began to lick Rick from his navel up to his chin. Rick Madison might be a prick, but he was a hot prick.

Rick moaned and sighed at the sensation, completely unaware it was Nash. Nash put his hand behind Rick's head and pressed his lips against Rick's. It felt weird, especially since there was no reciprocity. He pulled back and shook his head. What the hell was he doing?

He slid his hands down to the small of Rick's back and then lower, squeezing and massaging his tight, firm ass as Rick began to moan and writhe. He crawled up and straddled Rick's chest, pulling his head up to his crotch and nestling his nose and cheek against his hard cock. He worked Rick's slaw jaw open, lowered his briefs and put his hard cock to Rick's lips.

Another twinge of guilt hit him and he sat back. Shit! He tucked himself back into his briefs and hopped off the bed.

This wasn't going the way he envisioned it. This was supposed to be easy. Rick was an ass and deserved this... but wasn't what he was doing the same thing Rick had planned to do back in December?

Nash was confused. It was hard enough being attracted to guys, not to mention being in love with your roommate who also just happened to be your best friend. And what kind of outlet did he have here in conservative Missouri? Absolutely none! There was only so much one could see and do online before the body needed - craved - real life experience. But this couldn't be the way...

Sure, there were gay students on campus - he even knew several of them. And there was also a GLBT group - he'd checked it out some time ago - but joining? Hell, let alone attending a meeting was out of the question. You couldn't be a jock and gay. Not here. No way. And he wasn't any way near brave enough to blaze that trail. What would his friends say? What would Reese say? Plus, he didn't even know what he was! Gay? Bisexual? Bi-curious. Possessed? Going through a phase? Hell, if he didn't even know who or what he was, how could he explain what he was feeling to anybody else?

All these thoughts swirled and bounced around and around and around his head, but he couldn't isolate any one idea long enough to wrap his head around it. The more he tried the more frustrated he got. And the more frustrated he got the more dejected he became. He looked back at Rick... at that perfectly sculpted body lying there... ripe for the picking. He could do anything to him - he could fuck the shit out of him - and he'd never know. But was he 'that' guy? Did he want to go down that path? Fuck it... he let his primal urges rise back to the surface and decided to go through with his original plan.

He tugged Rick's briefs down and took his cock in his hand. The Viagra had done its magic and Rick was completely erect in a matter of strokes. He fished a box of Trojans and a tube of KY Jelly out of the backpack and, nervous hands fumbling, unrolled a condom onto Rick's penis. He coated it with a generous amount of lube, wiped his hands clean on a towel, and stepped back.

He quickly slipped out of his briefs and got back onto the bed, straddling Rick and centering himself just above him. He reached down, took Rick's cock in his hand again and, taking a deep breath, slowly lowered himself down.

"Ouch!!! Shit Fuck Motherfucker!!!!!" he howled as a searing pain ripped through his backside. His hand flew up and covered his mouth, stifling his groans of pain. Apparently all the stories he'd read on-line about 'it just slipping in' were complete bullshit and he should have taken the time to loosen himself up.

He pulled off, grabbed the lube and cursed as he coated his fingers. Red-faced with humiliation, he began to methodically and purposefully work them into his ass, loosening and stretching. Oh god, if his mom and dad could see him now. They'd be so proud.

Satisfied he was sufficiently lubricated, he crawled back into position and gritted his teeth as he slowly inched himself down, impaling himself on Rick's spear-like dick. His eyes watered from the pain but there was something else. Something exhilarating. Rick's cock had hit something deep inside him that caused him to arch his back and made his dick go fully erect. Oh god, it felt good! He took a deep breath, let it out, and rose up a bit. He eased back down. Oh fuck... there it was again! Up and down he went until he finally settled into an awkward rhythm, gurgling each time Rick's organ raked over his sensitive prostate, his eyes rolling back into his skull as his body flooded with heat.

It didn't take long for the sensation in his loins to reach a full boil. He felt his balls tingle and tighten and his breathing became rushed and raspy. His hand was across his mouth again and he kept it clamped there, biting into the flesh of his palm to keep from crying out in ecstasy.

His body juddered as he climaxed. He reached both hands up over his head, fists clenched and back arched, and let out a primal, guttural roar as his cock shot ropes of cum in a rapid fire staccato. The streams flew in high arcs and landed in splatters across Rick's chest, abdomen and neck.

Sated and spent, Nash collapsed in a heap next to Rick.

 

Chapter Eight

Robby's parents were backing out of the driveway when he reached his house, out of breath from his run home from the park and away from Nash. "We're going to the Club to play a couple sets," his dad called out as he rolled down his window. "Would you like to come with us? We'll wait while you shower."

His hands on his knees, Robby forced a smile as he shook his head. "Nah, thanks. I'm good."

"Okay, we'll be back for lunch then."

His parents waved as they pulled away, leaving Robby standing alone on his front porch. He unlocked the front door and went straight to his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He kicked his shoes off and, without undressing, staggered to his shower and turned the water on. He leaned against the stall and slid down to the shower floor.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God..." he cried as the water cascaded over him, mingling with his tears and washing them away. How could this have happened to him?! And Nash? Nash of all people? Why? What was he going to do? What COULD he do?

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, collapsed on the floor of his shower, but the water was now starting to run cold. He slowly crawled to his knees and stood up, twisting the knobs to turn the water off. He shivered as slipped out of his wet clothes. He grabbed a towel from the rack and dried off.

The clock on his nightstand showed 9:47 a.m. He'd been in the shower for almost an hour?! He pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and was about to finish dressing but sat down on his bed instead. He curled up into a ball, pulled his comforter around him, and lay still, trying to sort through what happened... and what he was going to do next.

A knock on his door awakened him and he glanced at the clock. It was almost 1:00 p.m. He quickly pulled on a pair of cargo shorts and opened the door a crack to his dad's smiling face.

"Hey sport," his dad asked. "Wanna join us for lunch?"

Robby returned the smile, opening his door further. "Sure... just let me finish getting dressed."

"Were you sleeping?" his dad asked.

"Yeah, I guess I was," Robby replied sheepishly, running his fingers through his hair. "I didn't sleep very well last night."

"That's not like you," his dad said, a look of concern on his face. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Robby lied, a fake smile on his face. "I'm great. Just felt like a nap."

They were finishing lunch when there was a knock at the back door. "I'll get it," Robby said as he got up from the table, gathered his dishes and placed them in the sink. "It's just Matt. We're going to the mall this afternoon."

He opened the door and stepped back, shocked to find Nash standing on the back stoop, smiling broadly. "Hey Robby," he said, holding up the shirt he'd left behind. "You forgot this earlier."

"What the hell are you doing here," Robby whispered as he snatched the t-shirt from Nash and stepped outside. He was about to close the door when Nash looked past him and waved to his parents who were still sitting at the kitchen table.

"Hey Mrs. Caldwell... Mr. Caldwell," he called out.

"Is that Nash?" Robby's mom smiled as she rose from the table and walked to the door. "How are you?"

"I'm good, Mrs. Caldwell," Nash replied, grinning broadly. "Keeping busy with student teaching and all."

"Oh please, Nash. Call me Judy," Robby's mom said, suppressing a giggle. "Mrs. Caldwell makes me sound so old."

"Yes, ma'am," Nash demurred sweetly. He had always liked the Caldwells. They were in their early 50s, the same as his parents.

Robby turned to his mom, stunned. Oh my god, is she serious? Did she just giggle? He wanted to throw up! He couldn't believe the act Nash was putting on. And even worse, his mom was eating it up!

Robby's mom saw the bruise on Nash's chin from where Robby had hit him earlier. It was already turning a faint black and blue. "What happened to your chin?"

Nash chuckled as he gingerly touched his tender chin. "This? Oh, it's nothing," he said absently. He glanced at Robby. "I ran into something earlier. Wasn't watching what I was doing."

Robby couldn't take it any more. He took Nash's elbow and pulled him toward the steps. "Mom, I gotta talk to Nash for a minute, okay?" he interrupted.

"Hey Nash!" Robby's dad blustered, joining them at the door. He thrust his arm out and vigorously shook Nash's hand, practically pulling him through the door. "I saw your dad yesterday afternoon."

Nash smiled tightly but didn't say anything.

"Judy and I want to thank you again for working with Robert these past couple of months. He's made some noticeable improvements, and I'm sure you've heard about the scholarship?" He was beaming.

"I did," Nash replied, smiling at Robby. "That was all him, though. Not me. But it's been a pleasure to work with him. Your son has many talents. Maybe someday you'll get to see just what Robby can do."

"I think we'd like that," Robby's dad said, sliding his arm around his wife. Nash smiled and winked at Robby.

Robby wanted to die! Many talents? His mouth fell open and his eyes widened as he stared at Nash and his dad shaking hands again. "Well, I look forward to it, Nash. I certainly do. By the way, that's a nice looking car you're driving there. Infiniti, huh. G35?"

"Thanks," Nash said, his cheeks reddening slightly as he shrugged. "Actually it's the G37. It was a Christmas present from my grandparents - my mom's parents. They're a little, uh... lavish at times."

"No need to be bashful about it," Robby's mom said. "It's a very pretty color. What is it?"

"They call it 'Amethyst Graphite', but it looks silver to me," Nash smiled as he rolled his eyes.

"Me too," Robby's dad chuckled, good-naturedly elbowing him. "We got Robby a new Camry for Christmas."

"I saw that," Nash said. "A Hybrid, huh?"

"You better believe it," Robby's dad said. "After the way gas prices spiked last year? My land."

Robby had enough. "Dad... mom..." he said quickly, stepping between them and Nash, as if that would somehow break the spell Nash seemed to have cast over them. "I really need to talk to Nash, okay?"

"Sure honey," she said warmly. "Sure. Well, Nash, it was really nice seeing you again."

"Thank you," Nash smiled warmly as Robby pushed him gently backward and toward the sidewalk. "It was nice seeing you again as well."

"Feel free to come by any time, Nash," she continued as a sad smile slowly crept across her face. "It's been... too long." Robby's dad put his hand on her arm and she covered it with her hand and squeezed it. Robby was sure she was going to say something else. He cast a quick glance at her and then at his dad. Whatever look had passed between them was too quick for him to read.

"What a nice young man," she said as she closed the door.

Robby made sure his parents had moved away from the door before he shouldered his way past Nash. He couldn't believe the nerve... How dare Nash come to his house like this! He was totally pissed. "What the heck was that?" he snarled, spinning on his heel.

"We have some unfinished business," Nash said flatly. "You left so soon..."

"What the hell do you want?" Robby snapped harshly, cutting him off. His face was only inches away and his body was rigid, his fists clenched.

Nash's smile vanished and his face went all stony. "Listen to me, you fucking little pissant," he said, his voice clipped but controlled. Each word, spoken slowly and precisely enunciated, hit Robby like a blow to the gut, knocking the wind out of him.

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you," Nash continued. "And your tone. You're really not in a good position here."

Robby realized Nash was right and immediately tried a more conciliatory tack. He took a step back. "What do you want?" he asked again, his voice resigned.

"That's better," Nash said, smiling again, his face a mask of false innocence and sly charm. "I've got a few things in mind... and I'm think we're gonna have to set some rules."

"Rules? Whattaya mean?" Robby wasn't liking this at all.

Nash took a step back and crossed his arms, his eyes traveling up and down Robby's body. "Well, first of all, you looked pretty good in those briefs the other night, so I think I wanna see you wearing them from now on."

"What?" Robby wasn't sure he heard him right.

"You heard me," Nash said. "I want to see you in briefs. Tighty whities?"

"I don't have any, though," Robby stammered. "Briefs, I mean. I don't have any."

"Looks like you'll have to go and get some then," Nash replied, shrugging. "No more boxer briefs for you. Or boxers."

"But these are kinda like briefs," Robby said in a low voice, running his hands over his thighs and lifting the legs of his shorts to show his boxer briefs. He looked over his shoulder at the door as he did. "They just have longer legs..."

"What did I just tell you?" Nash hissed, surprising Robby and making him jump.

"Okay, okay," he cowered. "I'll get some briefs."

"Yeah, go to Walmart and get some Hanes. Something nice and cheap, like you Like Reese. Take Matt and Alex with you while you're at it."

Robby looked confused. "Why?"

"Because I said so." Nash's voice had a threatening edge. He dug a slip of paper out of his pocket and held it up.

"What's that?" Robby asked, leaning in for a closer look.

"Your contacts from your phone," he replied.

"Where did you get that?" Robby asked, snatching it from Nash's grasp.

"The other night. I got them from your phone," he explained. "Don't worry, I made another copy. I got everything, so if you don't do what I say, I'm gonna start emailing pictures to all the people on this list."

"You wouldn't," Robby gasped, stunned.

Nash reached out and took the list back from Robby. "Let's see... that's right... your mom and dad are on here. And so is Reese, Matt, Alex... and Sara! Wow, you even have the Dean at St. Bart's, the Athletic Director and all the coaches. I can just imagine what they'll think of their new star after seeing some pictures... and the video."

"Okay, okay," Robby conceded, putting his hands up in a gesture of appeasement. "You win."

Nash gave him a cold look as he shoved the list into his back pocket. "And don't try to pull one over on me with the underwear either, because I'll know," he said. "I've got you in gym class and practice after school. So do what you're told and nobody at school will find out how you spent last Friday night."

"I got it, I got it," Robby said. "I'll get new underwear. And I'll bring Matt and Alex with me."

"And you'll wear them everyday; none of that boxers over briefs crap I see some of the guys do," Nash said, partly thinking out loud. "In fact, I think you should stop by my place tomorrow afternoon and drop off all your old underwear."

"You what?" Robby asked, incredulous. "You want my underwear? Are you serious?!"

"You heard me," Nash said, ignoring his protest. "Tomorrow. 4:30 p.m. And you better be wearing your new undies."

Robby let out a breath. "What else do you want?" he asked, his voice edged with defeat.

"I'll let you know when you stop by tomorrow," Nash replied. He smiled broadly and clapped Robby on the shoulder. "But I should get going. You have a lot to do today and I don't wanna hold you up."

Robby just stared, stunned, as Nash turned and headed down the sidewalk, got into his car and sped off with a nod of his head and a wave.

_______________

END OF PART 2

Thanks for reading. Comments are welcome. Please direct them to [email protected].

So whaddya think? Type in the code
Reset code