Текст книги "Every Frat Boy Wants It"

Автор книги: Todd Gregory

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That was a very good sign.

Some brothers moved the sofas off the carpeted area in the Great Room, leaving a big clearing. Some brothers jumped up on the hearth, and all the others crowded around. A couple of other brothers spread a tarp over the rug, and then beer was dumped all over me-as if I wasn't already soaked in it. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Eric being similarly drenched. "Just remember," Blair whispered, "whenever you can, try to squeeze his stomach. If you can, land on it. He'll puke, you'll be the winner, and that's the end of it." "Okay," I replied, leaning on him heavily.

"I expect you to kick his ass."

"Piece of cake," I replied. Drunk as I was, at least I had a plan. I wasn't sure if Eric could even think, or even knew what was going on.

"Pledges to the center of the tarp!" Marc announced. Eric and I walked out there and stood on either side of him. "Okay, the rules of pledge wrestling is you keep wrestling until one or both of you puke. Whoever pukes last is the winner."

"We don't try for a pin?" Eric slurred. I looked at him. His eyes were half shut, and he was having trouble keeping his balance. He was swaying from side to side, and every once in a while would sway so far to one side he'd stumble a bit until he got his balance again. I was pretty wasted my self, but I was a lot better off than he was. Thank you, Blair, for taking me to your room.

"Pins?" Marc laughed. "Stupid, stupid pledge! We don't care if someone gets pinned! WHAT DO WE CARE ABOUT, BROTHERS?"

"PUKE! PUKE! PUKE!" they started chanting again.

Over the noise, Marc said to both of us, "Now, no punching, biting, scratching, anything like that. When I blow this whistle, you start wrestling. Got it?"

"Uh-huh," I replied.

"Eric?"

"Sure." He was weaving even worse than he had been. I didn't even think he knew where he was.

Marc stepped up on the hearth and blew the whistle.

I turned. Eric hadn't moved. I looked over at Blair and shrugged. I walked over to Eric and gave him a good, hard shove. He toppled over, and hit the floor with a bonewrenching thud. The brothers were still chanting. I walked over to where Eric was lying on the tarp. He grinned up at me, and I sat down hard on his stomach. His eyes got wide, and I felt his stomach starting to retch, so I bounced on it one more time, and I saw it coming. I got up quickly and moved back over to the sidelines, and Eric rolled over onto his stomach and puked.

"We have a winner!" Marc shouted, and Blair raised my hand in triumph.

The brothers cheered me, and crowded around me. "A victory beer!" Jerry Pollard said, shoving a full cup into my hand. As I raised it to my lips, everyone started chanting, "Chug! Chug! Chug!"

So, I did.

And when the cup was empty, I put it on top of my head upside down.

And then everything in my stomach came up in a rush.

That's the last thing I remember about Big Brother Night, other than waking up in Blair's arms the next morning ..

Chapter 7

ittle Sister Rush was the week after Big Brother night. JSince pledge rush was an officially sanctioned university event, the university had decreed sometime during the Reagan years that no liquor could be served to pledges. I couldn't imagine what it must have been like when Rush Week wasn't dry. Blair told me that one of the alumni said "we used to put pledge pins on the unconscious ones-and they couldn't remember if they'd actually said yes or not."

Needless to say, the size of Beta Kappa pledge classes declined after Rush Week went dry.

So, Little Sister Rush, which was unofficial, was planned to more than make up for the sobriety of Rush Week. "The whole point," Blair explained to me that Wednesday night, before the first party started officially, "is to see which girls can party really hard as well as will put out for the brotherhood."

"Urn, that's kind of disgusting." I replied, passing the dragon back to him. "And degrading."

Blair shrugged. "I agree with you-but then, the girls allow themselves to be degraded-and nobody forces them to get drunk. I told you how the straight boys are-they don't care who gets them off as long as they get off. You wouldn't believe some of the pigs I've seen guys with– blech."

"I don't know, it sounds to me like a perfect setup for a date rape accusation." I put the bong down.

"Yeah, I've wondered about that." He shrugged. "You'd think with all the drunk girls putting out at parties all the time on Fraternity Row, that would happen a lot more. Go figure."

That first night's party wasn't much fun, it turned out. Maybe because it was on a Wednesday night, with two more school days to get through. The Brotherhood didn't put a lot of effort into it. It was held in the Great Room, and the party's theme was a rather lame one, I thought: Behind the Mask. Everyone got a cheap mask to put over their eyes when they walked in-pledges took turns working the desk handing out the masks-and we were supposed to wear them all night. Blair of course had a fabulous mask from New Orleans Mardi Gras; an amazing contraption made to look like real gold and covered in glitter with peacock feathers sticking out of it. There was a keg of beer set up in the Great Room, and again, we pledges took turns filling up people's cups with beer. Someone had put on a couple of dance mix CD's on shuffle on the stereo, and everyone just kind of lounged around and chatted. It was boring as hell, and hardly anyone showed up for it except for sorority girls looking for a free drunk, apparently. "I hate those girls," Marc Kearney said to Jason Ziebell and me while we were on keg duty. "They come to Little Sister Rush every year and never join up. They just like to drink our booze, the whores."

Thursday night was different, though. That was International Drink Night, and the entire party was held in the second floor hallway. Every room on the second floor hosted a separate drink-and there were fifteen rooms up there. So, basically, there was a party going on in every room. Stereos were blasting competing music-everything from hip hop to rap to hard rock to techno. My personal favorite was the upside-down margaritas-you sat down in a chair, put your head back, and someone poured tequila in your mouth from one side while someone poured margarita mix in from the other side. Once your mouth was full of liquid, you closed your mouth and they shook your head to "mix" the drink before you swallowed. I had three of those, as well as a couple of Come-In-A-Hot-Tubs, and a few depth charges (a shot glass full of whiskey dropped into a mug of beer, which you then had to chug down), and was pretty much feeling no pain the majority of the evening. The upstairs was packed full of loud, drunk people within twenty minutes of the party starting. I drank way too much-as usual-and wound up spending the night passed out in Blair's bed.

But I don't think I puked.

It wasn't as easy for Blair and I to be together as I would have liked. There were always people around once school started and everyone came back to live in the house. It seemed like all we were doing was stealing time togetherhaving to wait until whoever stopped by his room with a couple of joints and a twelve-pack of beer were fucked up enough to finally go away and leave us alone. Sometimes I just got tired of waiting and would go on home, to lie in my bed and remember the times we were together while I jacked off. It was incredibly frustrating-especially because I didn't have anyone I could talk to about my feelings for Blair. I was in love with him. I wanted nothing more than to spend my every minute with him. But I didn't know how Blair felt about me ... I knew he cared, but did he love me as a friend with benefits or was he in love with me? I wasn't sure of anything anymore. So many times after I'd fucked him and we lay in each other's arms, I wanted to say I love you, but I could never forget the time I'd said it and how he'd reacted. I wanted him to say the words to me so badly, but somehow I knew it was never going to happen. And in the silent loneliness of my bedroom, sometimes I cried.

Friday night I pulled into the parking lot of the house at six-thirty. I had a late Biology lab every Friday afternoon, which saved me from the pledge duty of being at the house early to help set up parties. The fraternity's motto was Alma mater first, and Beta Kappa for alma mater-in other words, school comes first-so no one other than Ted Norris ever complained about me not being able to help out before the parties. It was pretty obvious that my pledge brothers were getting just as exasperated over Ted as I already was. I didn't think he was going to make it through the semester. When he wasn't around, all of us complained and bitched about him. Chris tried talking to him once about his attitude, and got told to fuck off for his trouble. The brothers picked on him mercilessly, and the assignments he got in his black book were much more difficult than the ones the rest of us got-in fact, the vast majority of mine were Bag me sometime! I'll pay for the beer. Sometimes I felt sorry for Ted; but then he would do or say something that would remind me just exactly why I didn't like him in the first place.

As I walked up to the house, my jaw dropped. The Friday night theme was Mai Tai Wun On, which apparently was a long-standing house tradition. When the brothers talked about how they turned the house into a Polynesian paradise for this annual party, I rolled my eyes inwardly. I mean, really, how convincing could any decoration be? And the Behind the Mask party on Wednesday night had been pretty fucking lame after all. But now, I couldn't believe my eyes. I just stared in wonder. The entire backyard was covered by a blue tarp, wrapped around railroad ties, which made up a lagoon. Tiki torches lined the sidewalk. A waterfall off the roof splashed into the lagoon, and inside the lagoon itself several fountains shot streams of water up into the air. Flower petals floated in the water, as well as tea candles floating in salad bowls wrapped in tin foil. That side of the house was completely covered in palm fronds. The front door stood open, and inside I could see a huge papier– mache tiki god with a mai tai fountain inside his mouth. I was completely blown away. How had they managed to do this so quickly? In just one day?

I felt very proud to be a Beta Kappa pledge. We were sooo the coolest house on campus.

I walked in the front door, and the first thing I heard was Ted's nasal voice, "About fucking time you got here, Morgan."

"Shut up, Ted," Chris Moore snapped. He was struggling to tap a keg. "Good to see you, Jeff. I've got your shirt."

Every year, the house specially made T-shirts for the party. This year's design was a dark blue shirt with the Beta Kappa letters transposed over a scene of a girl in a bikini coming out of a tropical lagoon-I think it was actually an image ripped off from a Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. I pulled off my shirt and folded it, putting it inside my backpack. Chris tossed me my party T-shirt, which I pulled on over my head. It was tight and hugged my upper body like a glove. "What needs to be done?"

"Everything's done already, as usual," Ted sneered. "As always, you just showed up in time for the party."

"You know, Ted, maybe if you focused on what you need to do instead of what everyone else is doing, you wouldn't forget your lessons on Hearth," Chris snapped before I had a chance to say anything. What I wanted to do was punch Ted in the mouth, and I could feel my face flush. Instead, I counted to ten.

The previous Monday, every single time Ted had been called on, he hadn't been able to recite any lesson requested of him, to the murmurs of a disgusted Brotherhood. He even fucked up the Greek alphabet, which was the easiest of all the lessons thus far. I could even say the damned thing backwards.

Ted flushed. "Yeah, well, fuck you, Moore." He snapped and stormed off.

"I didn't think he would ever go away," Chris said, rolling his eyes.

I laughed. "How can he not realize how abrasive he is?"

"It's beyond me. Unless he's an even bigger asshole than we think, and likes being one, I don't know" Chris shrugged. "I mean, I feel bad for him sometimes, but you know if he doesn't get his shit together we're all going to wind up suffering for it." He sighed. "You know, they keep telling us our class is only as strong as our weakest link-and he is definitely that."

"Word up." I changed the subject. "Where's Eric?"

"Oh, he had to run to the store for more mai tai mix. Can you believe how cool this place looks? This is fucking incredible."

"I know. I still can't believe it." I looked into the Great Room. All the walls were covered with palm fronds, and candles burned everywhere. The deejay was setting up his station by the carpeted area. "This party is going to be so awesome."

"You have no idea, little bro," Blair said from behind me. "Are you finished with the kegs, Pledge Moore?"

"Yes sir, Brother Blanchard sir." Chris straightened up with a big grin.

"Then I request the presence of you two pledges in my room." I turned around and started laughing. Blair was wearing the Mai Tai Wun On T-shirt, but had painted his face like a Polynesian headhunter, complete with a bone through his nose which I hoped was a clip-on, and was wearing a grass skirt underneath rather than pants. "What are you laughing at, little bro? I told you this party was a big deal." He waved. "Follow me, pledges."

Once we were inside his room, he locked the door and placed the obligatory towel across the bottom of the door. He walked over to his desk and got out the dragon. "I've heard through the brother grapevine, Chris, that you are a stoner. Did I hear correctly?"

"Sir, oh, yes, definitely sir." Chris grinned.

I plopped down on the bed. All the pledges-except Ted, of course-smoked pot. We got stoned at all of our pledge meetings. Ted, I thought as I waited for my turn with the dragon, just doesn't fit in at all with the rest of us. As far as I could tell, all the brothers, with a few exceptions, smoked pot too. For about the hundredth time since our first pledge meeting, I wondered why Ted had bothered pledging a fraternity-and why this one in particular.

After the dragon had gone around a few times, I could hear the sound of voices outside as people started arriving for the party. Blair coughed. "I'm going to get us all a mai tai-you boys stay here, okay?"

"I can go." Chris said, blowing out a stream of smoke.

"No, I'll go. I want to hang out with you two for a while, and if you go out there someone might put you to work." Blair grabbed his keys and went out the door.

"He's so cool," Chris said, taking another hit. "You're so lucky he's your big brother."

"I think so, too." I took the dragon away from him.

"Man, I am stoned." He grinned at me. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure man." I was pretty stoned myself. "You're my pledge brother. You can tell me anything."

"Man"-he leaned close to me and whispered-"it was so hot watching you and Eric wrestle last Saturday, even though it didn't last very long." He laughed. "Pretty smart of you to go for his stomach the way you did. Do you like to wrestle?"

"What?"

"Do you like to wrestle? I think it's sexy as hell-Eric loves doing it too. He was bummed he was too wasted to make a real match out of it, you know" He put a hand on my leg. "You've got an awesome body, guy. Eric wants to wrestle with you again. And so do I."

"Are you serious?" I felt myself starting to get hard. I remembered what it was like wrestling around with Kevin in high school, the feel of his muscles against mine, his legs wrapped around my head-and then I suppressed a laugh. I hadn't thought about Kevin since meeting Blair.

It was funny how things change.

He slid his hand up to my crotch. "Hell yeah, man. Why don't you come by our apartment some time? We can get stoned, drink some beer, strip down, and get it on."

I licked my lips and considered. Chris and Eric were both sexy guys for sure. If not for what was going on between Blair and I, I probably would have crushes on both of them-and they would definitely play a part in my fantasies. Wrestling Eric had been fun-although I was relatively certain that sober he'd kick my ass. But then again, that could also be a lot of fun. But was it cheating on Blair? We'd never talked about not having sex with other people, and he had never said he loved me. Yeah, I loved him. I would probably always love him ... but what would it hurt? And he'd never have to know. "Yeah, that would be fun, man."

Chris squeezed my crotch, and my dick got harder. "Awesome. Sooner rather than later, okay?"

The door opened and Blair walked in with three drinks. "Okay, what have you two been up to? You look guilty as hell." He kicked the door shut behind him.

Chris winked at me. "Just smoking your pot, sir."

Blair looked at both us, an eyebrow raised. "All right then." He handed over the drinks and sat down at his desk. "Place is getting crowded. Let's smoke a bit more, finish these, and join the party."

The party was amazing. The deejay was the same guy Beta Kappa used for all of its parties, and he knew how to get people dancing. I got hit on by a number of little sister prospectives, as well as some of the little sisters themselves. I flirted back with them, but when I didn't really respond as sexually as they obviously wanted, they moved on to other pledges or brothers. I had never really danced much before, but found myself getting pulled out on the dance floor over and over again. I kept an eye out for Blair-he was kind of hard to miss in that getup-but didn't see him as often as I would have liked, and whenever I did see him, by the time I could disentangle myself from whatever girl had latched onto me on the dance floor, he was gone. Every so often I would see Eric with some girl hanging on him, and would watch for a while. So, wrestling me turned you on? So, what's the deal with the girl you're kissing right now? And then one time, as I was thinking it and looking his body over, he looked over at me and smiled, then winked. He then turned his back to me, and started shaking his ass at me. To anyone else, it might have looked like he was just doing some kind of lame white-boy boogie step, but I knew exactly what he was doing. He wants me to fuck him in the ass after we wrestle the next time. And I felt my own dick getting hard as the Pussycat Dolls sang "Don't Cha".

And I kept dancing.

One time, I remember Chris dancing with some other nameless, faceless girl right next to me and the girl I was dancing with-I think her name was Dawn, or something like that, she was a longtime little sister and had a reputation for being quite the stoner-and he also started doing the white-boy boogie ass shaking thing before spinning around and winking at me, bursting into laughter.

He was sexy as hell. My dick stirred in my pants. Oh yes, I am definitely going over to Chris and Eric's for some wrestlingsooner rather than later.

And then I saw Ted Norris watching us both, his eyes narrowed.

When he saw me watching him, he turned around and stalked out of the Great Room.

Asshole, I thought, dismissing him from my mind.

The party finally started winding down around one in the morning. The floor of the Great Room was about an inch deep in beer and spilled mai tais. I was drenched in sweat, my legs ached from all the dancing, and I was quite drunk. I hadn't seen Blair in a long time, and since I was planning on spending the night in his room-way too drunk to drive home-I decided to go looking for him.

"You seen Blair?" I asked everyone I saw, but everyone shook their heads. I knocked on his door, but there was no answer.

"Dude. I think he went to Denny's with some people for breakfast," Rory Armagh said as he weaved by. He had his arm around a short blond girl with the largest tits I'd ever seen. "He'll be back in a while. Great party, huh?"

"Thanks, Rory." I called after him as he went into his room with the girl. Well, I can go crash on a couch in the Great Room, I thought, but decided to make a pass through the building before giving up on Blair entirely. It wasn't like him to take off like that and not tell me, and it bothered me more than a little bit. I walked down to the end of the hall and up the stairs to the second floor. As I walked past it, the door to room twenty opened and a girl came out in a hurry, almost knocking me down.

"Excuse me," she muttered and hurried down the hall and down the stairs.

Marc Kearney came out behind her, muttered a hello and rushed after her, but stopped at the top of the stairs. "Fuck." He turned back to me and gave me a sheepish grin. He was barefoot, and just wearing a pair of jeans. His lean torso was completely smooth other than a happy trail below his navel and the nest of hair under his arms. "So much for me getting some pussy tonight." He laughed. "What are you up to, Jeff?"

I shrugged. "Too drunk to drive home-supposed to stay in Blair's room, but can't find him."

"Ah, yes. A bunch of people went to Denny's, he was one of them I think." He clapped me on the shoulder. "You're welcome to hang out in here with me till he gets back. We've never really spent any time together."

"Thanks." I walked into his room and sat down on the bed. His walls were bare, and there was a smudged mirror out on his desk.

"Man, can you believe that whore led me on and then wouldn't put out?" Marc sat down in his desk chair and stretched. "She'd better not ever show her stupid face around here again, that's all I have to say. Cock teases aren't welcome here. You want a beer?"

"Sure," I replied, inwardly rolling my eyes. I sure hoped I wasn't going to have to listen to him talk about what a stud he was with girls until Blair got home. I wasn't sure why all the brothers seemed to feel the need to brag about that all the time, but all it convinced me of was it was all talk. There was one brother, though-Kevin Shaughnessy-who lived on the first floor who I especially didn't like. He was a junior active-just initiated the past spring-and drank like a fish and didn't know when to stop. He also was incredibly mean to the pledges. When totally fucked up, he had a tendency to strip naked and wander. And whenever he scored with a girl, he hung his stained sheets out his window to let every one know

I couldn't stand him.

Marc got me a beer out of his little refrigerator and passed it to me. I popped the top and took a swig. "So, what do you think of Beta Kappa so far, Jeff?"

"I love it here, Marc. I'm really proud to be here."

"Good, good." He opened his desk drawer and got a folded piece of paper. He undid it, and scraped a small white rock out of it with a razor blade onto the mirror. "You want to do a line?"

"Urn. .." I hated showing my ignorance, but Jerry Pollard had told me the night he and Chris Morales bagged me never do a drug offered to you without finding out what it is first. "What is it?"

Marc let out his braying laugh. "Coke, my innocent little pledge. You've never tried it? Your nostrils are virgin territory?"

"Yeah." I grinned at him. "Everyone forgets I'm just a good ole prairie boy from Kansas. I was completely innocent until the Brotherhood corrupted me."

"Well, you seem to have taken a liking to corruption." He laughed and passed the mirror and the little straw over to me. I held it in one hand.

"What do I do?"

"You really are a virgin. Haven't you seen Scarface?" Marc laughed again, delighted with himself. "Just hold the mirror up high, hold the straw to your nostril, then inhale one of the lines, and keep inhaling until it's all gone."

I did as instructed, and when I was finished I handed the mirror and straw back to him. My entire right nostril went numb, and I had this weird taste in the back of my mouth. I gagged a bit, and then it felt like something slid down my throat. I grabbed my beer and took a swig as Marc laughed.

I took a deep breath, and my head suddenly went light. It felt like my entire body was floating, and I tried to grab the floor through my shoes with my toes to stay anchored. This was so absurd I started to giggle.

"Here." Marc ran his index finger over the mirror and shoved it into my mouth, running it along my upper gum and then the lower. Both gums went instantly numb.

Without a second thought, I grabbed hold of his arm, not letting him pull his finger out of my mouth. Instead, I slid it between my teeth and started sucking on it.

I was suddenly, intensely horny.

"Well, what do we have here?" Marc asked, a smile playing over his face.

I smiled at him. "What do you want to have here?" I asked, still holding his arm.

He got out of his chair and walked over to where I sat on the bed, standing in between my legs. He leaned down and kissed me on the mouth. With my gums numb, it was a weird feeling-but one I really liked and definitely wanted to continue. He put his tongue in my mouth and I sucked on it. He moaned. I put my hands on his waist. His skin felt smooth, but hot, and as he leaned into me I moved my mouth down to his left nipple and licked it.

He put his head back. "Oh, man, that feels so good." He gasped, putting his hands on my head.

I undid the fly of his jeans, and pulled them down from his narrow hips. His dick was hard in his white underwear, and I put one hand on it. He moaned again, but pulled away from me. For a brief moment I was frightened, but he just smiled and turned his stereo on. REM filled the room with noise. "I kind of get loud, sometimes," he said with a sheepish grin. "And nobody needs to know what we're doing in here." He stepped out of his pants and tossed them on the floor.

I pulled my shirt off over my head.

"You have a beautiful chest," he said, sitting on my lap and putting his arms around my neck.

"You have a beautiful ass," I replied.

He kissed my neck, and his mustache tickled me a bit. He moved his mouth down from my neck to my nipples. "Your chest is so hot," he whispered, flicking his tongue out over first one nipple and then the other.

I moaned as my cock strained against my jeans. He reached down and felt my cock. His eyes opened wide. "That's big!"

"Yeah." I whispered back to him. "And it wants to be inside you. All the way."

He pushed me back onto the bed, and straddled my crotch. He ground his ass into my hard dick. "You wanna fuck me, prairie boy?"

"Uh-huh." I smiled up at him. "I want to fuck you till you scream."

"Mmmmm." He brought his mouth down to my nipples again and started working on them with his lips, teeth and tongue. I began to writhe and buck my hips up and down, dry humping his hot ass. He sat back up and smiled down at me. "Man, I want you inside me."

He got off me, and undid my jeans, pulling them down to my ankles, along with my underwear. My cock sprang free and smacked against my lower abs. It was aching. He smiled at me and took my cock in his mouth, slowly working his way up and down. He knew what he was doingthis wasn't the first cock he'd sucked, obviously. He flicked his tongue over the head, and licked my balls. I tilted my head up so I could watch him worship me.

He was almost as good at it as Blair.

My dick was wet with his spittle when he looked up and smiled at me. "Dude, I don't know if I can handle that big thing, but I sure as hell want to try."

"Let's find out then."

He put a condom on me, and squirted lube on it. He spread it all over my hard cock, and squirted more into his hand, reaching back to get his hole ready for me. He climbed back up on top of me, and moaned as he put the tip inside of him. He looked down at me. "Dude, I really don't know."

"Quit talking and do it," I said. It was odd, maybe it was the cocaine, but I wanted to feel my cock all the way inside of him. I wanted to fuck him hard, rip his asshole to shreds-ride him like no one had ever ridden his hot, tight ass before. Maybe it was because he was the pledge master and I was used to taking orders from him-but I wanted to make him submissive to me. I wanted to show him that he might be a brother, he might be older, but damn it to hell, I was a man and I was going to fuck him like he'd never been fucked before. I wanted to drive him crazy with pleasure. I wanted him to compare every single man who fucked him in the future and have them come up lacking. I wanted to fuck him so hard that when he saw me again his ass would tingle from the memory of my cock.

"All right," he whispered, and gasped as he slid down a little farther on my dick. His ass was very tight; I was almost afraid that if I started riding him it might rip the skin off my dick.

He was definitely going to have to get used to me before I tore into him.

"Come on, take it all," I said in a gruff voice. "Don't be a pussy, Marc. You know you want it."

He gave me a look I couldn't read, and slid down still farther-this time going all the way down. His eyes shut and he moaned, loudly-and I was grateful for REM singing on his stereo. His whole body convulsed as he sat there, more moans coming out of his throat, and then his eyes opened and he grinned. "You have no idea how incredible that fucking feels. My God, that's an awesome cock."

"Ride it buddy," I growled at him. "Make me come, brother."

"Oh, fuck yeah," he replied, and started sliding up again. When he slid down, he moaned again, his eyes closing yet again, and then his body started shaking ... and suddenly he was spraying my chest with come.

"Oh my fucking God." He slid off of me. "I'm so sorry, man."

"It's okay."

"It just-it just felt so good I couldn't help it, man!"

I laughed and reached for a towel and wiped his come off me. I stood up and pulled my underwear and pants back up. "Thanks, Marc."

"You sure I can't finish you off?" he reached down and felt my cock through my jeans. "Damn, that sure is amazing.

"I should go wait for Blair," I said.

It was weird that I didn't care about getting off.

What I cared about was snorting some more coke.

The feeling and numbness from the first line had worn off while Marc was riding me. And I wanted that feeling back.