Chapter 6 – Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Rip came to, sprawled out nude in his bed. Doug's hot mouth was tickling and tugging his morning erection.

Within moments of coming to, Rip was pumping his semen into Doug's mouth.

Then Doug was pressing his hard cock into Rip's bowels, fucking him like a man used a woman, face to face.

Aw man, oh," Doug grunted as his pubic hair rested against Rip's stretched, raw anus. "God, love your tight little hole, Dude."

Rip wrapped his legs around Doug's narrow waist and Doug groaned and gave Rip several short, jerky thrusts.

"Oh, aw shit, aw man," Rip groaned as Doug gave him one hard, long thrust and Rip could feel his semen boiling up.

"Aw, God man," Doug grunted.

He gave Rip a few more long, hard strokes then stiffened and gnashed his teeth as he spewed a hot sticky load into Rip's back door.

Rip and Doug kissed for a few minutes, until Rip felt an overwhelming need to void bladder and bowels.

He genuinely felt that he would loose both bladder and bowels before he could reach the bathroom, but managed, with serious strain, to hold both in until he could slam into a toilet cubicle.

Rip sighed in relief as he managed to let loose.

"Heard that," someone chuckled.

"Thought I was going shit myself," Rip admitted to his unseen comrade.

"Went to that barbeque place? Junior's?" his unseen friend said. "Man, don't even waste your money; I've had the shits all night.

"Hate that, man," Rip agreed.

"Nasty, greasy ass pulled pork sandwich; onion rings sitting in a big old puddle of grease," his buddy continued to lament.

"Well, the breakfast here ought to stop you up," Rip said.

"God, yeah, that's just what I need," the stranger said as Rip left the bathroom.

Doug, Rip and Bruce went to the cafeteria and joined a group of young men at one of the tables. Bruce's roommate, Bobby, sat at a table alone.

Part of the conversation did drift to what football games were being broadcast that afternoon. Several at the table jeered that the St. Louis Rams' game was not being broadcast.

"I've got a microwave in my room," the young man sitting next to Bruce said in a low voice to Bruce. "Microwave some popcorn; we can stream the Rams game, even though it's blacked out."

"Okay," Bruce nodded. "Roommate?"

"Went home for the weekend," the boy smiled.

"Dude, I'm telling you, this is the Chargers' year, man," Doug argued with another boy. "Rip?"

"Broncos," Rip said. "Now that Payton's with them, Broncos."

"Aw, your ass," Doug laughed. "And Payton's not healthy. You watch. That neck injury? He won't even see a snap."

In the Students' Union, Rip's fat, pimple faced sorority girl was on one of the many couches.

"Hey!" she smiled when Doug and Rip flopped down on the couch next to hers.

"Hey, how you doing?" Rip smiled while Doug made a friendly wager with another boy.

"Wanted to watch the Bears and Packers; my sorority? They're convinced they'll die if they have to actually watch a football game. What about you?" the girl confided to Rip.

"I'll take the Bears," Rip said, noticing the Bears logo on the cap she had on her lap.

"Oh good," she smiled happily. "I'd have to slap you if you was a Cheese Head."

Rip found out her name was Melanie Sue Landers, no, no relation to Ann Landers, that's not even her real name anyway, and she was originally from Chicago, Illinois. She was in her fifth semester and planned to major in Languages.

"So far I can speak French, Spanish, um, Mandarin, that's a hard one and…" Melanie said.

"How many languages can you shut up in?" a boy asked.

Rip scrounged together some change and bought him and Melanie a few bags of chips and a couple of cans of soda.

Even though the Packers managed a decisive victory over the Bears, Melanie did give Rip a few kisses and made plans to go to Gino's with him on Tuesday night.

"Jesus, Dude, you like that fat pig?" a boy sneered after Melanie left the room.

"Well, I'll admit, she's not as beautiful as the girl you're with, oh, wait a minute, you're sitting there all by yourself," Doug sneered before Rip could say anything. "So, uh, why don't you shut up before someone gives you a reason shut up?"

Thankfully, Melanie didn't hear any of the exchange. She practically floated on air as she made her way back to her sorority house. Richard was a cute boy and seemed to like her. He even bought her a bag of chips and a soda, instead of making her buy her own, instead of making her buy his for him.

She pulled her long brown hair back and cursed how greasy it felt. True, she hadn't washed it that day; she hadn't anticipated running into anyone she wanted to impress.

She then scratched at a pimple and again cursed her greasy skin.

At her sorority house, she asked one of the Big Sisters for some help and the girl smiled happily.

Rip and Doug stayed and watched the second game broadcast that afternoon, then ate supper in the cafeteria.

"Broncos!" Rip yelled as he and Doug walked back to their own dormitory.

"Shut up; nobody likes a sore winner," Doug laughed, squeezing Rip's head in a head lock.

"Hey, um, when that dick was saying that shit about Melanie…" Rip started.

"Pissed me off; sitting there talking shit about your friend when not even his own hand would do him," Doug barked.

"Thanks," Rip said.

The minute they were inside of Room 413, though, the two boys ceased being buddies, roommates, and became lovers.

Doug sucked Rip's cock to a juicy climax, then greased up his own hard cock. Rip knelt on his bunk, shoulders to the bed but ass up in the air

"Uh!" he grunted as Doug pushed the head of his cock into Rip's anus.

"Oh fuck!" Rip sobbed out as Doug's cock pushed in.

Doug forced his cock all the way in, wiggled his hips from side to side, and then began to pull out of Rip.

"Damn, man, aw Dude," Doug groaned and began to stroke in and out of Rip's tight ass, racing toward a climax.

Then they gathered up their shower stuff and walked to the communal bathroom.

"That guy Bruce was talking to; you know what room's his?" Doug asked casually.

"No; don't even know his name," Rip said, feeling a strange twinge of jealousy.

The shower room was packed; nearly every occupant of the fourth floor was washing away the weekend. The noise level was deafening; sound bouncing off the tiled walls and floors.

But there was no sign of Bruce or his new friend.