Mikey Will Eat It 3

This story is the property of the author, and may not be reproduced in any form without his permission.

All participants are 18 or older, and no suggestion of underage sexual activity is intended.

I had just muscle-worshipped Matt, the awesome jock who lived across the hall from me in our college dorm. I had sucked his cock until he popped his nuts harder than ever before in his life, I'd made him beg for more, I'd made him scream with ecstasy. But that was over - back to reality. Straight boys are lousy sex.

At least that's what I kept telling myself. I had cum once myself, but my belly still ached with need, my balls still churned with gallons of hot teen cum, I needed to jerk off for about two days before I'd be able to think about anything but how much I still wanted Matt. He was unbearably hot, and unbearably unattainable.

At that hour on a Saturday night the dorm was strangely silent. A lot of guys had gone home for the weekend, and most of the ones still there were eating or starting to party in some bar in town. The place seemed deserted. In the bathroom I was the only one. Later there would probably be a couple of guys puking in the johns or sinks and the halls would be noisy with drunken assholes angry and frustrated because they couldn't get laid.

There was a whole wall of sinks and mirrors, and opposite them the shower stalls, each with a curtain. Behind the showers were the toilets, and I went there first to relieve myself. I was feeling disoriented, tired, a little sad. I needed to eat, so I planned to shower quickly and get some dinner. Best not to think about what had just happened.

Once I had emptied my bladder, I picked a shower stall that was dry. I knew that none of them was clean for long, even though they were cleaned every day, but a dry one always seemed cleaner. I looped my towel over the pipes above and stepped inside the shower, then turned on the water full force, hot enough that it was unpleasant at first. Any sort of extreme sensation would take my mind off my thoughts. As my body adapted to the water I turned it steadily hotter until it was practically scalding. I relaxed and sighed.

I had finished washing and was just enjoying the hot water, my adventure with Matt almost forgotten when suddenly he opened the curtain and stepped in beside me. He was grinning from ear to ear, like a big puppy dog, or an overgrown kid, but his grin disappeared as the hot water hit his naked body. "Jesus! That's hot! Fuck!"

The stall was big enough for two, and I stepped aside in amazement as the awesome jock stud danced under the hot spray. He could have adjusted it, but I guess he figured if he was sharing my shower he had to take the water the way I liked it. After all, there were nine others on this floor to choose from, and ten times that many more in the whole ten-story building, so he wasn't exactly short on options.

Soon Matt had adjusted to the heat, and was grinning at me again. He grabbed the soap and started lathering up that awesome body, and my cock rose in spite of my foul mood and its recent exertions. "I hope you don't mind me joining you," he said, obviously sensing that I wasn't totally thrilled. "You know what they say, save water, shower with a friend." It occurred to me suddenly that Matt might be one of those people who feel that sexual intimacy requires some sort of token friendship for awhile afterwards, something to disguise the act and make it seem less callous. I prefer to keep it simple, fuck and get out, but I could see that was not going to be easy with Matt. I looked down and saw his giant cock was on the rise, like mine.

He laughed, "We sure are a couple of horn-dogs!" Then he reached down and wrapped his hand around my cock, and my groin felt like I was going to explode - my cock was rock hard, my balls were churning, my knees were weak, I could have fallen into Matt's arms and then sunk to my knees to suck him dry again. That image woke me up. Of course Matt wanted more. I had just given the awesome stud the best orgasm of his life, he was ready for a second time, all he had to do was lay back and let me do all the work. I pulled away. "Sorry, stud, only one blow job to a customer. Gotta go." I slipped out of the shower, grabbed my towel and rushed to my room.

Dressing hurriedly, I ran out of the dorm and headed to my favorite pizza place. It was a body shop at this time on a Saturday, crowded with jocks and cheerleaders and everyone else in town, but I liked the crunch, it made me feel anonymous, lost, invisible. I wanted to be invisible. I needed to get drunk. I found a seat at the counter and ordered a carafe of wine and a pizza and before long was feeling a pleasant buzz.

I was finishing my pizza when I looked across the room and saw Matt. He was with a group of his jock buddies, wrestlers and swimmers and gymnasts. As I looked their way I found them all looking at me. Matt was talking, laughing. They were all laughing, looking at me and laughing.

I paid my bill and rushed out. Fuck, the asshole had told them all about what we had done. Probably said I propositioned him in the john or something. Best blow job in town. They'd be lined up at my door from now on. I'd have to charge, ten dollars for a quickie, fifty for the special. I could pay my tuition, quit my Teaching Assistant's job. No, probably a group of them would ambush me some night on my way back from the library, and they would all rape me as Matt cheered them on. What an idiot I'd been, letting that asshole get me to suck him off!

I wandered around campus for an hour, not wanting to go back to the dorm. Its emptiness would be an affront now. What was I doing alone on a Saturday night? No date, no friends. The fact that I had transferred to this college a month before, hadn't had time to make friends, needed to work when I wasn't studying, all the reasons I was in the situation I was in, none of that seemed worth the pain I was suffering right then. I wanted Matt, I wanted to BE Matt, I hated being me, alone, lonely, just another drone trying to inch a step or two higher on the employment scale. I had brains, but I was no genius, I had no special skills, nothing to set me apart. I was just OK looking, nobody you would notice. I was a nobody.

Finally I wore out my self-pity and walked back to my dorm. I would study until I was too tired to stay up, then sleep. But first I would change the sheets. I didn't want the smell of Matt reminding me of what we had done. I would have a hard enough time forgetting.

I was looking at the floor as I approached my room. The tiles formed an interesting pattern, and I liked to follow it as I walked. So I didn't see Matt until I almost tripped over him. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against my door. I stopped and looked down. He looked up. He was even more drunk than I was, and that was unusual. I had never seen him drunk before at all. He was an athlete, he was in training, guys like him didn't drink, they didn't need to. My self-pity was back in charge. "Get out of the way, Matt, this is my room, yours is over there," I growled, hating him for his beauty, the easy way he got whatever he wanted. Now he wanted my room.

"Too drunk," Matt mumbled. Boy, he was REALLY drunk. "You gotta help me. Can't open the door." He had his key in his hand and was waving it in the direction of his own door.

I stood looking at Matt, furious with him. I couldn't believe that a couple of hours earlier I had been in bed with this asshole. In MY bed. "Who the fuck do you think you are!" I yelled. "You talk me into sucking your cock so you can boast to your jock buddies how you got the faggot to give you a blow job and now you want me to help you get in your room because you're too drunk to stand up! Go to hell!" I reached over him and put my key in the lock and opened my door. Matt was leaning against it and fell back, hitting his head on the floor. There was a loud crack. He lay there, not moving. I was terrified. I had killed him. I stumbled across his body, falling to my knees. I crouched over him and leaned down, sobbing. "Matt! Wake up! Help! Somebody help! Matt!"

Either there was really no one else around, or they didn't care, or they thought I was just some drunken asshole. Well, that last part was true. And I had ignored a lot of shouted exchanges in the halls, as long as they didn't go on too long, or too late. Better to call the campus police if things got too bad. Thinking of the campus police brought me back to my senses. This would look bad if anyone found us. I leaned down and shook Matt. He stirred a little. So he was alive, at least. God protects drunks and babies. I dragged his inert body to his door, and pulled the key from his hand, and opened the door, and dragged him inside. He was mumbling to himself, and I decided that was a good sign. He hadn't cracked his skull, at least. I hoped. I went back and closed my own door, then returned to Matt's room, closed the door, and turned on the overhead light. That was too bright, so I turned on a desk lamp, and turned the overhead off. I felt furtive and afraid, like a character in some TV murder melodrama, trying to hide the evidence, make the crime look like an accident: It was Mikey, in the Hallway, with a Dildo! I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to clear my head.

Matt was on the floor, and I felt he should be in his bed, but I didn't think I could get him there if he couldn't help me. Did it matter? Why not just leave him there? I shook him. "Matt! Wake up! You need to get into bed!" He mumbled to himself as I shook him. "Come on, Matt, bed time!" I shouted. I shook him and tried to pull him to his feet. He stopped mumbling, and opened his eyes and looked at me blankly.

"Help me up, Mikey," he said. I pulled and pushed and slowly he managed to get to his feet. He swayed and stumbled around and I shoved him towards his bed and somehow he managed to fall face down on top of it. Most of him, at least. His lower legs stuck out off the side. He rolled over onto his back and started trying to get his clothes off. "Gotta get my clothes off," he mumbled.

I was ready to walk out and leave Matt alone at that point, but he kept struggling with his clothes, trying to take them off, rolling around on his bed, and I pictured him rolling onto the floor, and really breaking his skull open this time, or vomiting in his sleep and choking to death. Just like his asshole jock buddies to leave him alone in this state. I realized I had to stay with him, at least for a while. And if getting his clothes off him would make him shut up and go to sleep, so much the better. I sat on the bed and started trying to get him undressed.

It took about five minutes to get Matt naked. I had intended to take off just his shoes and pants and jacket, and leave him in his tee shirt and briefs, but the sexy jock insisted he had to be naked. He helped a little, but kept grabbing me and trying to wrestle, calling me Mikey, saying "Mikey will eat it, Mikey will eat anything, Mikey likes it." I hate being called Mikey, all my life people have laughed and called me Mikey and mis-quoted that fucking TV commercial. But at least Matt was too drunk to put up a fight for long, and once I had him naked he seemed docile and ready to sleep. All I had to do was get him under the covers.

If I had planned ahead, I would have pulled down the covers on Matt's bed before I put him in it. Then all I would have had to do once I got his clothes off would have been pull the sheet and blanket over him and leave. Or, if I had stopped and thought about it, I would have just taken the blankets from Terry's bed, right across the room, and used those to cover Matt. If Terry got unhappy about it, I could just tell him how much I appreciated his telling his fucking drunken asshole super-jock roommate about having had sex with me. Thanks for telling Matt I give good blow-jobs! But I did none of those things. I was obsessed with getting Matt into his own bed, under his own sheet and blanket. That was my mission. And after all, I was pretty drunk too.

By this time Matt was singing to himself. He might have been able to pull it off sober, but drunk he just sounded drunk. I couldn't even tell what the song was. He was right in the center of the bed now, buck naked, on his back, with a hardon, and singing. I looked at him, and the bed, and calculated. The bed wasn't wide enough to roll him onto his stomach on one side while I pulled the covers down on the other, then roll him to the other side and pull the covers down there, then roll him back to the center and cover him. If I rolled him too close to the edge he would fall off. Well, that would give me a chance to pull the covers down without him in the way, but it was too messy. There had to be a way to do this with him on the bed. It was a matter of physics. Or mechanical engineering. E = mc drunk. Velocity equals mass times exuberation. Something like that. OK, I was almost as drunk as Matt.

I sat on the bed beside Matt. I would pull him to the side where I was sitting, hold him on the bed with my body, reach across him and push the covers down, roll him back, move to the other side repeat, and voila! Easy.

The problem was that Matt was naked, and I was drunk and horny. My earlier frustration and anger had disappeared, and suddenly all I could think of was Matt, naked, drunk, me, sex. I wanted him again. The light from his desk lamp lit his beautiful body from the side, highlighting all the beautiful curves, the big rounded masses of muscle, the dark valleys, the dark forbidden places, his crotch , his cock, hard again - did the fucking stud ever NOT have an erection? I felt like I was in some torrid romance novel. She heard the sound of his zipper as he opened his pants and lowered them and her heart fluttered like a tiny moth, wet and eager for his manliness. Shit.

So I was sitting on the side of the bed, looking at Matt. He was still sort of singing, making some sounds at least, so I knew he was alive. All I had to do was pull him towards me and then reach over him and get the covers down and I could go back to my room and jerk off for the rest of the night. There was an entire Internet full of porn for me to download and lust over. There was a box of dirty magazines in my closet for me to drool all over. All I had to do was get Matt under the covers. I pulled Matt's naked jock stud body towards me. His cock was huge and hard and demanding. I wanted to lean down and engulf it in my mouth again and suck it until he spurted another huge load of his hot teen stud fuck juice down my throat. I ignored that impulse and leaned across him. Matt rolled onto his back in the middle of the bed again and reached up and pulled me down on top of him. I was lying on top of Matt's naked body and he was clutching me to him like I was his long lost brother. His hard cock was poking me in the stomach. My own cock was equally hard. Matt was mumbling something. I leaned my ear to his mouth to try to figure out what he was saying.

"Fuck me," he said. "I want you to fuck me."

I pushed myself away from Matt and looked down at his face. His eyes were open, and looked clear enough. Suddenly he looked sober. What the fuck was going on? Had he been faking?

"Matt, are you still drunk?" I asked as he clutched me to him.

"I was never drunk," he admitted. "I just figured it would be easier to ask you to fuck me if you thought I was drunk."

"Right. And you thought I'd go for that. Wait a minute, are you saying YOU would go for that? You'd fuck your date if you thought she was too drunk to remember what happened the next day?" I was shocked. Matt was starting to seem even worse than I had feared.

"No!" he said earnestly, grabbing me by the shoulders. "Wait! Look, this is new for me. I never had sex with a guy before this afternoon. And you did things I never dreamed of. I've never felt so good. I want to return the favor. What you were doing to my ass felt really good. I want your cock up there. I want you to fuck me, I want to give you pleasure too. I don't think I'm ready to suck your cock yet, and if I did I'd mess it up for sure. I know you want to fuck me, I thought you were going to do it earlier, I was ready for it."

My head was swimming. I remembered the puzzled look on Matt's face when I'd told him to turn over after I had rimmed him and poked a couple of fingers up his tight hot boyhole. I had assumed he was just humoring me, letting me get as much satisfaction as I could from his body so long as I got him off without making him do anything queer.

I was still lying on top of Matt, and his naked body was rubbing against me, even through my clothes I felt those awesome muscles. How often does the ultimate wet dream porn fantasy stud beg you to fuck him? He sounded totally sober. What was I waiting for? I admit I hesitated a moment longer, thinking "Pity fuck!" But then he moved under me and licked my neck and I stopped thinking. I ripped my clothes off, afraid he'd change his mind if I waited. Our naked bodies rubbed together. My cock was oozing precum, I was hot and ready.

"Wait," I said. God, why can't I just turn my brain off! "You were talking about me to your jock buddies in that pizza place. You told them what a good cock sucker I was. They all know I'm a faggot, they're waiting outside to beat me to a pulp." My paranoia was still in high gear. Somehow this was all a setup.

"Dude! Chill!" Matt soothed me, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close, nuzzling my neck softly. "I was telling them what an awesome dude you are and how you live across the hall from me and you tutor me sometimes when I need help. I would never tell those guys what we did. Or what we're about to do. You're right, they're macho assholes, and they'd beat the shit out of both of us if they saw us like this. Now fuck me. Fuck me hard. I want to hear you shout loud enough to wake anyone still in the dorm tonight when you cum."

Matt reached into a bedside drawer and handed me a pack of rubbers and a bottle of lube. I squirted a lot of the lube into his asshole and worked it inside with my fingers, then put the rubber on my cock. "Lie on your side," I told him, "it's easier that way at first." He rolled obediently onto his side, nearly falling off the bed in the process. I grabbed him to keep him on the bed, and my cock rubbed against his smooth firm ass cheeks, sliding into the crack. I nearly popped my nuts without even entering him I was so horny and desperate for his body. I directed him to bend his top leg while I snuggled into his back and aimed my cock at his asshole and started pushing it in. He was tight, of course, and as the head of my cock popped inside he cried out in pain.

"Shit, it hurts!" he said, but he didn't push me away.

"I know," I said. "You have to learn to relax - push out a little, like you're taking a shit." I waited while he adjusted to me inside him. I'm not as big as he, but I'm bigger than most guys, and used to having to give my partners time to adjust.

"OK, I think it feels better now," he said. I pulled out and added more lube and pushed in again, farther this time. Matt gasped.

"Still hurt?" I asked.

"Yes, but it's starting to feel good. You're starting to hit that spot you were jabbing with your fingers earlier. Push in a little farther."

I shoved my cock in a few more inches, aiming it where I thought his prostate was, and he gasped again. "Oh, yeah! That's it. Harder."

I pulled out and added still more lube and shoved in again, harder and farther this time and he made a deep satisfied moan. I pulled out again and shoved my cock all the way in. He yelped.

"Too hard?" I asked desperately. I pulled my cock halfway out and shoved it in again. I was getting close to the point where I was going to lose control and start fucking the awesome muscle-boy's brains out.

"God!" he gasped. "Unbelievable. Fuck me, dude. Fuck me hard."

I let go then, my balls were churning with pent up cum and I decided he was the best judge of how it felt. I started fucking him slowly, then picked up speed. I rolled him onto his stomach, his head hanging off the bed, and lifted myself into a push-up position so that I could shove my cock in harder, and aim it better. It also felt better to me that way. I started fucking him hard and fast and he started shouting. "Yes! Yes!! Fuck me! Yes! Oh yes!" It didn't take me long to fill that rubber with the biggest load of jism I'd ever pumped out, and the way Matt met my thrusts and worked my cock with his ass I'd have sworn he'd been fucked before, but the blood on his sheets the next morning told me I'd fucked his virgin ass. I stayed in him after I finished cumming, he urged me not to pull it out, said he hadn't cum yet and wanted me to fuck him again. I laid on top of him while I caught my breath. Soon my cock started to swell to full erection again, as Matt rolled his hips and contracted his ass on me to arouse me. I was grasping his huge hard pecs like handles, rubbing and squeezing them, and each time I squeezed hard he contracted his ass on my cock - it was awesome, like his pecs were the control knobs for his tight hot jock stud asshole. I had this sudden fantasy that I could make myself cum just by squeezing his big hard pecs and making him work his ass like that.

I started fucking Matt again, slow and gentle this time. I just rocked my hips slowly, rubbing my huge hard dick in and out a few inches, looking for the spot that would get him off. I jabbed a little here, probed a little there, and heard his deep contented sighs as I found it - "Oh! Yes! Please, Mikey, there!" I concentrated on hitting that one spot as regularly as I could, slowly increasing the force of my thrusts and guided by the slowly increasing urgency and volume of his reaction. "Oh! Oh! God yes! Fuck me, Mikey, yes!" By the time I was getting close to cumming again Matt was shouting so loud I'm sure they heard him in the next dorm. I grabbed a pillow and tried to muffle his shouts but he pulled it out of my hands and twisted his head around and dragged my face to his and kissed me as I fucked him harder and faster. He sucked my lips and bit my tongue hard and the pain drove me wild - I rammed my cock into his tight hot ass like a madman and finally his body arched with convulsive ecstasy as his cock exploded - he started cumming and I let go and gave in to my own orgasm. His voice was a long scream of pleasure as I rammed my cock up his ass as hard as I could.

I fucked Matt once more that night, and pretty regularly for the next two years. We never became friends, really, but at least once a month he would show up at my door when my roommate was out for the night. He'd have a six-pack of beer in hand and we'd drink a couple while I stripped him naked and worshipped his awesome muscle-god body and sucked his cock for half an hour until he was desperate to cum and then I'd finally let him pump a huge load of his hot cum down my throat. Then I would flip him onto his stomach, or shove his legs up over his head as he lay looking worshipfully up at me, and I would fuck him senseless. He never got around to sucking my cock, and I never let him fuck me, it just didn't feel right to me. I sucked him off, then fucked him - it seemed like a fair trade.

As for Matt's roommate Terry, who started all of this, well ... that's another story.