[College Boy Sperm Hole] Fair Game

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Turning the corner on 25th Street, a block from home, trying to sober up in the cold Thursday night air, after two beers at a Foggy Bottom pub I had to lie my way to get into, I was finally in the home stretch towards a long restful night in bed. My cell phone rang, which annoyed me, since I had to take my hand out of my warm pocket. Andrés was asking me to invite him over, because he was flying back home on Friday to Lima for a week. The prospect of a third consecutive night of bareback fucking with him sounded fun, but I was dragging. I’d recounted for him that I’d been up most of Wednesday night, fixing a marketing project that two of my teammates had botched, and then rehearsed, and then delivered it late on Thursday. It went well, which led to an impromptu team celebration at the pub. With 2 hours sleep the night before and the alcohol kicking in, I was ready to crash hard. As well, I spent those 2 precious hours of sleep in a funny position, and my neck and back were killing me.

“Poor kid. Well, I’d like to see you before I take off. How about a short visit so that I can give you a simple back and neck massage? Did I tell you I’m a trained Swedish masseur?” (No you didn’t tell me, Andrés.) I invited him over, warning him that I wasn’t going to be able to stay awake beyond an hour. I had just enough time to shower up and pop an Advil when Andrés walked in. He told me a little about his plans to see his family and conduct some business. Sensing my fatigue, he pulled me into the bedroom, had me strip down to my CK boxer briefs, and lay face down.

We had to improvise with massage oil, but I found a new bottle of baby oil that would suffice. I stretched out, Andrés crouched over me, and he warmed the oil in his hands before pressing into my lower back. He was more skilled in massage than I’d expected, and I enjoyed the luxury of just relaxing and being massaged at the same time. After a couple minutes of back and forth chatting, I felt myself drifting towards sleep, as Andrés moved up to knead my shoulders. I tried doing econometric equations in my head to stay awake, but to no avail. At some point, I was so relaxed that I just stopped fighting it, and fell out into deep slumber. My dreams were active, and violent: I was a bullfighter in an Almodovar film, and then I retraced my hard run from last October’s Marine Corps Marathon. Always moving, but not resting. And then, nothing.

My alarm sounded at 7:00am, and then 7:05, and so on until 7:30. Finally, I had to get up to a dismal Friday morning, for a macroeconomics class. I opened my eyes and looked for Andrés, but he wasn’t there. The townhouse was perfectly quiet. Which was good, because I had a pounding headache. I reached over to shut the alarm off, and noticed my CK boxers sitting on the chair nearby. I was naked and face down on the bed. Swinging around to grab some new underwear from the dresser, I winced. My hole was incredibly fucking sore. I stood up and had to limp a little towards the bathroom, I was so sore. As I moved, my stomach churned a little and my hole was getting a little too wet. Moving faster towards the bathroom, I was too slow, and a pure white stream of Andrés cum leaked from my hole, down onto my balls and into puddles on the hardwood floor. By the time I reached the shower, I’d left a sperm trail behind me. I’d have to clean the floors again this weekend, but at least I figured out why I was so sore. Andrés must have spent half the night taking advantage of my stupor to completely empty himself inside me.

I decided to send Andrés an email before heading to class, to apologize for passing out on him. Who likes it when a friend or sex partner falls asleep on you? Logging in, however, I already had an email from him: one line, with a photo capture from his iPhone. It said, “Hey stud, hope you enjoyed the massage last night. I enjoyed it intensely.”

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