Last Days of Summer: College Dudes Gone Wild (Dirtyhunk Gay Sex & Erotica Anthology)

Jock Games: Playing for Keeps

Cabana Sex with Jake’s Bro

Screwing his Roommate

His name was Dan.

When he walked into our dorm room lounge he
didn’t just wander in – he swaggered into our space and slipped right past me
without a word, attitude and arrogance dripping off his back. He acted like he
owned the place.

He reeked of
varsity-jock
entitlement.

My thoughts went into high-gear: well-bred,
rich, straight, big cock, definitely a jock – football or basketball was my
guess – and clearly the partying type. One by one, second by second, the labels
began to stack up in my mind. Looking at him wander around, his infectious
energy spewing everywhere, it was clear that my rooming experience was going to
be a challenge. I had been expecting a laid-back quiet dude to show up.
Instead, I got six feet of hard muscle, red-hot looks and an impossible
attitude.

I wasn’t sure what I hated the most:

He was unapologetic about his arrogance;

He looked like a million bucks;

He had me horned up in barely a minute;

And worst of all: he was
me
... Only
better!

On campus, I am the guy who swaggers around
and gets all the attention. With Dan around, I was sure that would all change.
Heck, he even had my attention – that never happens! A pretty little bird once
told me all about loving and loathing simultaneously, but until Dan showed up,
I had no idea what the chick meant.

Talk about contradiction!

Five minutes... That’s all it took for him
to give me enough details – through body language alone – to know that he was
hot
shit
, not to mention, a guy to be reckoned with. I knew that I would have
to step up my game if there was ever any hope for me to remain a top dog around
campus.

“I’ll take that one,” Dan said, once he was
finished scoping out our pad. He was referring to my room. It did not surprise
me at all that he went after it. Out of the two rooms available, I had taken
the largest.

First come, first serve
, was what I felt compelled to say but with him towering over the
entrance, I suddenly lost my voice. Reluctantly, I looked over at the smaller
room to my right and contemplated how bad it really could be. When I turned
back to him, our eyes both drifted down to the pile of stuff that I had already
placed on the floor – luggage, football gear, my laptop and some other shit –
and I took that opportunity to set him straight.

“Actually, I got my stuff in here,” I said.

He looked me over with disapproval but I
didn’t give a shit. I stood my ground. If he wanted to swagger into my world
and
be somebody
, then he would have to damn well earn his place! The
nerve of him... Did he think he could just stake his claim wherever he wanted?
I was the
big cock
on campus – not him.

What a fucking jerk.

An insanely hot jerk, sure... But still a
jerk in any event.

Perhaps it was the animosity that had
mounted, in haste I might add, but I suddenly had my swagger back.

Dan surrendered but he didn’t seem pleased.
The look on his face said it all. I still felt a sense of pride well up in my
gut when he finally took the second room.

That’ll fucking show him
, I thought to myself.

Overall, it took five minutes to size each
other up and another five to become rivals.

With the larger room back in my control,
anger inevitably gave way to lust. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. When he
began to lug his stuff from the lounge into his tiny room, going back and forth
without saying a word, his muscles strained in what became a beautiful display
of perfection. He was wearing a pair of cargo shorts, a white polo, a ball cap
and flip flops. Each time he bent over to grab something, I managed to steal a
peek. His arm muscles burst out of his polo shirt, threatening to tear the
sleeves, and the layers of muscle on his backside, nape of neck to ass, were
perfect. His calves also looked inviting enough to warrant a bunch of stares. I
could easily see myself licking them all over.

He abruptly stopped laboring over his stuff
when he caught me looking. The mirror on the hallway closet sliding door gave
me away.

“What?” he barked.

He still sounded angry.

“Nothing,” I said, suddenly feeling
uncomfortable again. Unlike before, I now had wood between my legs and I sure
as hell didn’t want him to see it.

“You’re staring,” he said, point blank.

I felt a rush of endorphins rise up in my
gut. Yeah, of course I was staring! Was it such a crime? I wanted to make a move,
as strange as that would have been – going from hate to hot in such a short
amount of time – but I played it neutral instead.

“I’m staring at your stuff,” I said. “Did
you move your whole damn house out here?”

He glared at me for a few seconds and then
went back to work.

“Mind your own business,” he said as he
lugged a duffel bag over his shoulder.

That’s when I lost my wood. The
arrogance-routine had long since gotten old and frankly, it was boring.

I marched over to him once my boner was
completely gone.

“Dude... What’s your deal? I’m just trying
to be friendly.”

He stopped working again and then threw his
hands casually onto his waist, kind of like how construction guys do it. It
looked real macho and I started to get hot and bothered again. There was
something about him.

“Look, I just want to get my shit done.
Okay?”

“Bad day?” I asked as I picked up a duffel
bag off the floor and thrust it in his direction.

His glare softened as he took the bag from
me.

It was a baby step, if you could even call
it that, but a step in the right direction nonetheless. Anything to tear down
his rock-hard demeanor.

“This school’s shit!” he barked.

“Why’s that?”

“Professors. Counselors. Tuition. Classes.
Take your pick,” he said as he threw the duffel bag into a corner. Glass
shattered as soon as the bag hit the wall.

“Fuck!” he groaned. “Add wasted cologne to
that list.”

I couldn’t help but grin as the scent of
his cologne began to waft through the air. It was cool and edgy, just like him.

“What?”

“Dude... Chill out. This stuff always works
itself out.”

He didn’t seem so convinced.

I had no idea what was going on with him
but I decided to take the high road and break the ice.

“I’m Trevor,” I said as I extended out my
hand.

“Dan,” he mumbled and then slapped his hand
into mine and then quickly retrieved it.

The guy had a serious attitude problem but
I was still willing to help him so over the next twenty minutes or so we lugged
the rest of his stuff into his room. Manual labor provided the ideal bonding
experience that idle conversation could not accomplish. Once we were done, we
grabbed some beers from the fridge and kicked back in the lounge. I think the
beers, more than anything else, scored me tons of brownie points because as
soon as he got a cold bottle into his hands, his mood shifted.

“Good stuff, bro...” he said once he
drowned the last of his beer.

“No worries,” I said before I took another
swig of mine. I was barely halfway through my bottle.

He kept a steady eye on me, which got me a
little nervous, and then he came at me like a ton of bricks.

“Cock or ass?” he asked.

“Huh?”

I could only manage one word without
choking on my beer.

His gaze was filled with curiosity. I
wondered what was running through his head as I pondered his bizarre question.

My heart began to race once I clued in. Had
I been right all along – did he do the nasty with dudes?

Dan quietly got off the sofa and went back
to his room, leaving me to dwell in my own torment of thoughts. When he finally
reappeared, he dangled a pair of worn briefs around his finger and then he
tossed them into my lap. They landed in my crotch.

“We’ll see what you are,” was all he said
before he offered up a quick wink and headed for the door.

Once he was gone I took his briefs into my
hands. They were warm, which meant that he had just handed me the underwear
that he’d been wearing.

“Well played,” I whispered to myself as I
let my fingers roll around in the fabric of his briefs. My gaze remained
fixated on the door as I contemplated Dan’s strange question: cock or ass?

I chugged down the rest of my bear while
his underwear was still hot in my fist and I contemplated what sort of game he
was playing.

Whatever the game, it was hot.

I had wood between my legs again but even
better, I was more than just turned on, I was also intrigued. Nobody had ever
gotten me as wound up as he had.

The next two weeks were pure hell.

Dan never once brought up the underwear
incident nor did he ask for his briefs back. I tried to sneak in a few
advances, if you can call lingering stares and casual invites out to the bar
‘advances.’ Nothing worked. He was tighter than a clam, unwilling to open up,
even for just a moment. It was as if the underwear incident never happened.

I was confused. Better yet – irritated.

When Dan tried out for football, anger
replaced lust and I started to hate him all over again. He had a sneaky way of
invading my territory. I didn’t care so much that he tried out; the problem was
that he was awesome and everybody went nuts for him. The guys were suddenly all
‘buddy’ with him. Dan even had the coach whipped. I had to work my ass off to
be taken seriously but our generally unimpressed coach immediately took Dan
under his wing. I swear: Dan must have been a football god in a past life
because, for better or worse, he truly was that good. The guy had moves – even
I had to admit that – but those very moves still made me look bad.