The next day was a formal meet and greet with the brothers of Beta Beta Chi. I thought about just skipping and giving up on that fraternity, but I was getting the feeling that the other frats had no interest in me. I’d promise my dad that I’d join one and I didn’t want to hear a lecture, so I dragged my ass over to the house wearing dress pants, a button-down shirt, and a tie. Of course, the first person I saw was Mr. DB standing at the entrance greeting potential members. I started sweating:
Had he somehow seen me?
Had his fuck buddy told him about the creepy rush that had stood at the door watching?
Had they seen how hard I’d gotten?
When I finally got to the top of the stairs, Mr. DB barely looked my way, saying, “Welcome,” in a bored voice. I couldn’t pass him fast enough. The rest of the meet and greet passed in a blur. I was too busy worrying and trying to avoid any one on one conversation with Mr. DB (I really should start calling him by his name). Eventually I was able to calm down once I realized that he was showing no specific interest in me. Even during the interview process that he held with a few brothers. At the end of it I was able to walk away with a name for DB (Todd) and an invitation to join the frat tomorrow for a party they were having to bring in the new semester. An invite that was extended to all the guys rushing. I silently thanked God and Todd’s fuck buddy (boyfriend?) for not ratting me out.
True to form, my luck ran out the next day. I was rushing to my personal hell, Organic Chemistry, when I ran into a brick wall. Of course, said brick wall turned out to be the last person I wanted to see.
The black guy I’d caught fucking Todd two days ago was leaning against a wall, partially blocking the tight hallway that led to the lecture hall. “Hey Tom,” he said.
“Um,” I stammered, “My name isn’t Tom?”
He laughed, looked me up and down, and asked, “Is that a question, Tom?”
“It’s Brian. My name’s Brian,” I said, a bit firmer this time.
“Weird, always thought the saying was ‘Peeping Tom’, not ‘Peeping Brian’,” he said with a chuckle.
Fuck!
“I’m sorry…?”
“Jake,” he provided.
“Um, right. Well, I’m late for class, Jake, so I need to get moving. It was nice meeting you,” I said as I tried to brush pass him.
He completely ignored me and continued, “Did you enjoy the show, Tom?”
“Um, not sure what you’re talking about.” Innocent until proven guilty, right?
He laughed, leaned closer, and lowered his voice, “You know, the show where I was stuffing my huge dick up your potential President’s ass?”
“The show that had your dick so hard that I could see it tenting your pants from afar.”
I shook my head in denial.
“Of course you did and I bet you scurried home to tug on that little dick of yours too.”
Shit!
My face must have confirmed what he already knew because he laughed again and said, “I knew it. You white boys are so predictable. See a powerful black man and you turn into a drooling, horny slut.”
At this point he had gotten so close to me that I could feel the heat radiating off his body. Any closer and I knew for sure I’d feel his dick pressing into me.
“Look, like I said, not sure what you’re talking about. I need to get to class.”
He continued staring me down, but then stepped aside with a smile.
I rushed pass him and hurried into class. Fifty minutes later I still heard the words he had thrown at me as I’d pass him, “I’m going to have so much fun with you, Brian.”
….
Later that day I spent 30 minutes trying to talk myself out of going to the party. I came up with all the excuses in the book: I had laundry to do, my room to clean, homework to catch up on, an upcoming exam to study for, etc.
In the end the decision was made for me when I saw an incoming call from my dad. I reluctantly answered, spent about 10 minutes getting talked at, and then got my ass out of bed and got dressed. The topic of fraternities hadn’t come up, but the thought of that 10-minute conversation turning into 20 if I wasn’t offered a spot in a frat had me reluctantly walking through the doors of Beta Beta Chi.
The smell of alcohol almost knocked me over as soon as I opened the front door. There were red cups everywhere (how cliché) and I could see a bar stationed in the corner of the room. I immediately headed that way. I’d never been much of a drinker (especially not in the middle of the week), but I’d learned early on that people who were drinking took it as a personal insult if you weren’t doing the same. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that if I had a cup in hand, half full (so it looked like I was drinking but didn’t need a refill), I wouldn’t be pressured through the night to have a drink.
I got a cup of whatever cheap concoction the frat brother behind the bar had come up with and took a big gulp. Mainly to get it to the halfway part, but also in hopes that it’d help calm my nerves. I then looked around the room in hopes of finding someone who didn’t look too intimidating to talk to.
It didn’t take long for exhaustion to kick in. Being an introvert, it took a lot of effort to be social in such a capacity. Forcing myself to mingle with people I didn’t know and trying hard to find things to keep the conversation going always wiped me out. So, the minute I saw an opportunity to get away for a bit, I took it. I remembered that there was a small library on the second floor, so I headed upstairs, figuring that no one would think to hang out in a library while the party and drinking was in full swing. Once I got to the room I flopped into the nearest chair and closed my eyes, breathing out a content sigh. The chair was one of those big leather ones that I could sink into. It felt like heaven.
Just as I was dozing off, I heard a click as someone came into the room and quietly shut the door. I quickly opened my eyes and sat up straight and was about to apologize for going beyond the first floor when Jake dropped into the chair across from me. We stared at each other as I struggled to find something to say.
“Um, I’m not sure anyone is allowed to be in here.”
“That’s interesting, I was just thinking the same thing, Brian.”
Again with the emphasis on my name! I got up to leave, but Jake reached out and pushed me back down.
“Sit,” he commanded.
“I’d rather not,” I said and made to get up again.
“Sit!…Or I’ll have to have a little chat with Todd about open doors,” he smirked.
I hesitated, but eventually relaxed back in my chair. “So what? You want to talk?”
“No.”
He continued smirking, staring me down. I was determined to win whatever silent battle we were having so I refused to look away. The fucker looked away first, but somehow made it seem like he’d won our little stare off.
“Look, I didn’t mean to watch you guys, ok? I was looking for the bathroom and…” I abruptly stop at the sound of a zipper opening.
“Wha-What are you doing?!”
“No, I don’t want you to talk…” He paused, reached into his jeans, and pulled his cock out, slipping the waist of his pants underneath his balls.
“I want you to watch.”
And, with that, he firmly gripped his cock at the base, holding still as if showing it off. I still hadn’t responded, I just kept staring at his hands closed around his (very) big cock. Outside of porn, I’d never seen such a big dick. Jake was both long and thick and I couldn’t help but be in awe of Todd. How could anyone take such a thing into their body?
After a few seconds, clearly satisfied with my reaction, Jake started stroking himself slowly.
“I bet you’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you,” he said in a way that made it clear that it was a statement, not a question.
I shook my head in denial even as I continued marveling at how big he was.
“No?” He asked with mock surprise.
“I haven’t, I promise.”
“I think you’re lying. I think you’ve been thinking about my dick a lot. Wondering what it looked like going in and out of Todd’s ass, wondering how much it stretched him, wondering how it would feel in your hands…in your mouth.”
“No!” I denied.
“Then why can’t you look away?” He swiped at the precum that had formed at the slit and continued stroking. “You’re practically drooling.”
“I’m not,” I said, but immediately licked my lips.
“You are,” he laughed and then slowly stopped stroking.
I looked up, wide eyed, only to find him smirking at me.
“You can touch it if you’d like,” he offered.
“I’m not gay.”
He laughed out loud. “I’m not interested in your sexuality. Your sexual preference is pointless when it comes to black cock. Gay, straight, bi, you white boys always end up being happiest cumming on a big, black, cock.”
I wanted to deny it, but I couldn’t. Partly because he’d gone back to stroking himself, which meant that I was too distracted. But, also, the words had struck a chord. It was almost like he knew my dirty little secret. That I’d continued watching porn featuring black men. That I only had eyes for whatever guy was starring in the scene and his black dick. And that, most disturbing of all, when the porn wasn’t enough, I closed my eyes and jerked off to the image of Jake fucking me just like he did Todd that day. With complete ownership.
“Come on, why not feed your curiosity? See if it’s just as good as it looks…”
I shook my head but continued staring, entranced by the way he was jerking himself. Full grip up and down with a twist at the top, snagging precum from the drooling tip every now and then to make the glide slick and smooth.
“Just a little taste, Brian, then you’ll know for sure.”
I felt myself nodding but it was as if I was removed from my body. Later I would blame that feeling for what I did next.
I went straight down to my knees and made the short crawl over to Jake. He continued stroking and, when I looked up, he had a challenging smirk on his face. “Say it.”
I felt heat rush to my face, but I didn’t look away when I asked, “Please can I taste you?”
I expected him to further gloat and have me beg. I would have. I was so far gone, so worked up from a week of thinking about his dick and what it could do to me that I wouldn’t have cared in that moment.
Thankfully he allowed me a bit of dignity and moved his hand away, spreading his legs farther apart. I reached out shyly and wrapped my fingers around his cock. First thing I noticed was how different it was from gripping my own dick. For starters, my fingers barely fit around him. Also, the contrast between my white hand and his black skin was startling. Again, I couldn’t look away.
I began to jerk my hand up and down while Jake relaxed back in the chair. I moaned at the sight of precum coming out at the tip, my mouth watering thinking about getting that taste in my mouth.
“Come on,” Jake urged, “Taste it. See if it lives up to your fantasies.”
I moaned even louder, so tempted, but so afraid. Afraid someone would catch us, but mostly afraid of what it would mean for me to have my first taste of black cock. Somehow, I knew there would be no turning back once I crossed that line.
Fortunately, Jake got impatient and took the decision out of my hands. He grabbed the back of my head and pushed me towards his cock. And I went willingly.
I skipped tasting and went straight to taking his hard cock into my mouth, groaning at the taste of his precum on my tongue.
“That’s it. I knew those lips would look good wrapped around my cock.”
“They’ll look even better when I cum all over them.”
I shivered at the image his words created as he started to lift my head up and down, fucking my mouth.
I learned quickly that Jake was impatient and just took what he wanted. After a few jerks of my head, he stood up, towering above me, and really started fucking my mouth. All I could do was open my mouth and relax, but with my inexperience I could hardly keep up. I started gagging but refused to move away. Refused to look away from his face that was completely blissed out.
“Yes! Love seeing you white boys gag on my cock. You’re going to take every inch down your slut throat.”
He then grabbed me on both sides of my head and started fucking my face even harder. Soon his fat dick was hitting the back of my throat. I’d never been more turned on. I wanted to touch myself but couldn’t let go of Jake’s hips. He was going at my face so hard that removing one hand would have thrown me off balance.
He began to grunt, indicating that he was close.
“I’m going to cum all over your nasty face. I’m going to cover you completely with my cum. Would you like that, slut?”
“Mmmmm,” I moaned, wanting what he was promising so badly.
“Here it comes bitch!”
Jake pulled out of my mouth and started jerking his massive dick fast. Within seconds he released his first load right on my parted lips. He continued cumming, making sure to get the rest of my face. Blissed out, I just knelt there with my eyes close, basking in the feeling of his hot cum hitting my face.
Once he finished, he stuffed himself back in his underwear and zipped himself up. With a command to “clean yourself up” he left the room.
The minute I heard the click that indicated that the door was closed, I hastily pulled my dick out and began roughly jerking myself. At the same time, I reached up to my face and started feeding myself Jake’s cum. Making sure to get every drop, I pulled on my cock with absolutely no finesse, completely lost to the memory of being face fucked by Jake.
After a while it wasn’t enough, so I stuffed three of my fingers in my mouth trying to recreate that feeling of being filled, used, and owned. I was so lost in the feeling that my release took me by complete surprise. So did the loud, “Fuck,” that fell from my lips. I’d never cum so hard and so much in my life. It was going everywhere and, while I was worried about clean up, there was nothing I could do but moan into my arm and continue jerking my softening dick. I was still shaking long after I stopped cumming.
……..
The next day, I came back from class to a letter on my bed.
I slowly walked towards it, looking around as if I expected someone to jump out at me. I had no idea how it found its way to my room. I hadn’t seen my roommate since the first day of school and I always made sure I locked my door before leaving.
I picked the letter up which had the Beta Beta Chi logo stamped at the top right of the envelope. I opened the letter and quickly read through the short paragraph. Once I was finished reading, I sat down with a sigh of relief. I’d done it. I’d managed to get an invite to pledge a fraternity. Not the fraternity I wanted but, at this point, I would take what I could get.
The letter detailed the pledging process, which seemed pretty standard until I reached the last one on the list:
10. Meet the ALPHAS
**AUTHORS NOTE: Thanks so much for your kind words on my first story that I published two years ago. I found myself returning to Rush yesterday while on vacation and was surprised to see that I’d already written part two and three of Brian’s journey. That means that the third part to this will be posted within a week, just have to make some edits and add a bit more to spice things up. Stay tuned 😉