My Dorm Buddy's Used Condoms and Stuff (Part3)

While trying to find off-campus housing my first year at the University of Iowa, I met Gordon. He was a natural hyper-masculine guy who, accompanied by his mother, was looking for a place to live just like me.

Right off I could tell Gordon was hot for my ass. And I do mean my ass. Playing baseball for the Our Lady Queen of Peace High varsity team, combined with my good Polish farm boy genes, rewarded me with a rock hard bubble butt. It always seemed to get a lot of attention.

While Gordon's mother was swimming in the pool at their motel, my studly new friend and I tried some hot and heavy homo action in room 14. Both of us were so crazed for sex and each other that we forgot the old lady was even alive. Gordon had a starving man's appetite for only one thing--eating ass. So my ass got a tongue-washing like never before or since. After we both spermed all over the bedsheets, Gordon greedily licked and swallowed every drop. Naked and close together, I could smell my own butt-crack sweat on this stud's face and man-cum on his breath. That sex-smell gave me a fresh hard-on.

Then in walked Mom. We had been caught--completely busted! There was nothing to say or do to explain. At first Gordon's mother stood there in stunned silence. "What the hell are you doing to my son, you homo," she said. Gordon didn't say a word. All i could do was grab my clothes and go as fast as possible. But mom wouldn't stop. "You'll never turn my son into a fag. I won't let you. He's got girlfriend at home. They're going to be married," she said. And on and on she went. As I left the room, the last thing I heard her say was, "You'll never see Gordon again." And I didn't.

Five months passed. I kept my vow to forget about sex and concentrate on studying. I rarely even jacked-off. The rooming house where I lived was full of zitty computer nerds, engineers and fat girls. The sight of any of them gave me salt-peter.

Then finally the letter arrived. I was assigned to room 37 in Larue Towers. Report to the main desk Monday.

Walking to the dorm room I wanted for so long, I only thought about getting settled-in fast and writing the two term papers I was assigned. Sex was the last thing on my mind.

But after I fumbled with the key and opened the door, all of that changed in an instant. Lying on his bed, in nothing but jockey shorts, reading a copy of Penthouse, was Tony, a junior physical education major and one of the best wrestlers on Iowa's NCAA Championship team.

Being a baseball jock in high school myself, I had seen and been naked with other jocks a lot. And there were a lot of buffed, muscled, manly studs among them. But I never saw a body like Tony's.

Perfectly muscled, with thick, strong hairy legs, bulging biceps and tough, manly forearms, his best attribute was that amazing barrel chest and the rock-hard six-pack below it. Tony was a combination of Mark Wahlberg, Ken Ryker, and Michaelangelo's David, but somehow, incredibly, even hotter. He must have worked out a lot to get into that kind of shape. And it was obvious he didn't use steroids. Tony had none of that puffy, pimply, roid-muscle look. His was a body that showed only good old-fashioned pumped iron.

I saw that his jockeys were half-pulled down his hips, exposing a good inch or so of dark, black pubes. The outline of his thick log pushed against the inside of those shorts. One hairy, plum-sized ball had escaped it's cotten covering, and dangled enticingly against his thigh. His right hand rested near it. Had he been jacking-off?

The sight of him took my breath away. I began to sweat nervously. My dick was hardening and my precum flowed faster and faster. I feared the obvious bulge and growing wet spot visible on my pants would give me away. I moved my hand quickly to hide it.

(to be continued)