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Daring Oliver

by Omofineboy


Oliver was this honcho macho kind of a guy. He hailed from Port Harcourt, Nigeria, while I hailed from the Middle Belt. He was also from a wealthy family and definitely entitled. Today he is tied and hobbled to the beautiful Helena with their three adorable daughters. When we were in our final year in university of Calabar, fate thrust us as room-mates.

He was tall, handsome and really catchy. Flawless ebony skin, well trimmed beards and set of white teeth to die for. His dancing eyes were mostly hooded and filled with mischief. I was smitten the first time I saw him. He had that laid back I- don’t- give- two -fucks attitude that I found really enchanting. He was athletic and few days after we had what seemed like a bond, I discovered he belonged to a cult. For that reason I made sure I ding find myself on his wrong side .We tolerated each other. I especially Avoided his retinue of friends like a plague. The moment the loud lots barged into our room, greeted politely and found an excuse to extricate myself . By the time I returned, the room would be in disarray and reeking of marijuana.

One night, I returned to find Oliver and three of his friends taking turns on a hapless first year student. I was so upset I refused to sleep in the room for two days. On the second day, our path crossed as I left the cafeteria. “Hi Desmond,” he greeted me plaintively, smoking a stick of cigarettes. “Hello Oliver,” I returned coolly. The image of him stroking his huge dick while one of his friends rammed away at the girl and another stuffed her mouth with his phallus was still fresh in my memory. While it was upsetting, it was also arousing. But I wished….If wishes were horses.

The truth of the matter was that I had a secret crush on the motherfucker. And as if he knew. The way he would deliberately unclad himself and walked around the room naked and also catch me looking dreamily at him. Then he would smile derisively as if enjoying being a cocktease. “What happened, you just took off the other day.” “I was busy,” I said a bit feebly “Liar,” he said with a smile.You fags don’t like to see real men fucking?”

He had asked me severally why I had no girlfriend; why I was always pristinely neat; why I loved books; and why I was always cooking and cleaning the room. Then he started calling me Sweetheart, to the hearing and amusement of his friends. In fact, they also took the moniker, calling me Sweetheart whenever they paid him a visit. Basically on account that I looked effete and my voice was on the high pitch. What could I do to change my nature? I was an only male child with six older sisters. “Anyway, sweetheart, the room hasn’t been the same without you. If I promised never to have such party in the room, would you come back?” He almost pleaded “Ok, I will as long as you respect my privacy too. I am here to be educated not to be corrupted,” I said grandly. “Yes sir, my sweetheart. I promise to fuck elsewhere with my friends and maybe one of these days if your libido is up to it you can join,” he guffawed. I glared at him and continued with my walk.

Few weeks later, our first semester drew close and as we were about to start our exams, the lecturers went on strike. Most students left the campus. We that came from afar remained on campus hoping hooping the impasse between the government and the lecturers would be resolved.

One evening, we received a circular that all students must vacate the campus first thing the next morning. “Sweetheart – “ Oliver’s voice boomed. “I don’t like you calling me sweetheart, Oliver,” I said reproachfully. Secretly, I’d love it if it wasn’t said with the aim to tease. “Ok sweet – sorry, Des. I don’t have any transport fare. My folks had sent me my usual amount but I wasted it. I can’t bring myself to ask my dad to send me some money. If you could lend me some money, I would make it up to you,” he said. “How would you make it up to me?”I queried. “I will let you suck my dick,” he whispered. I looked at him searchingly and his eyes were laughing. I knew he was just pulling my leg. “Or would you prefer to fuck me in the ass?” he teased and lifted one of his ass cheeks or emphasis. I burst into gales of laughter. “What? You don’t find me sexy?” He said mockingly, feigning hurt ego. “Nope,” I responded with equanimity. “Awww, I am really insulted. And here was I thinking you really dug me!” He said, shaking his head I refrained from taking his jab. “Seriously though, I don’t mind to repay you double,” he said soberly. “No need. I will lend you the money- interest free,” I replied. “Wow, you are such a sweetheart, “he crooned.

He grabbed me and kissed me fully on the lips. It was unexpected but before I could make a head or tail of the kiss, he pushed me to the bed, winked and left the room with a Cheshire smile, leaving me dazed and flummoxed.

At about midnight, Oliver staggered into the room unsteadily. Clearly he was drunk.Not the first time though. He smelled of alcohol and weed. I shook my head and helped him remove his shoes and clothes. When he was just in his shorts, he sighed. “Des, you are a good man. Thank you,” he whispered drunkenly

As I turned to leave him, he grabbed my arm and I lost my balance and fell on him. He embraced me and started kissing me wetly. My knees grew weak and I succumbed to his kisses. He held me tightly and I felt the strength of his erection pressing against mine. He turned me over and climbed on top of me. He was roughly gyrating his loins against mine. His hands were all over me and his tongue was raping my mouth. I could hardly breathe. When he relaxed a bit, I removed myself from his embrace and stood by my bed side. Slowly, he rose up, shed off his under garment and his ramrod stiff penis stood like a flagpole between his legs. The guy was really endowed. I looked longingly at that man meat and he walked to me. He pressed his hands on my shoulders in a silent command. I knelt before him and took him in my mouth. I sucked his manflesh as if my life depended on it. The squelching sound added a sort of wildness to this madness. He grabbed the back of my head and fucked my mouth with all his strength.

At a point I choked and it seemed to give him pleasure. He refused to let go of my head until he gave a final shove and convulsed orgasmically and let a fountain of semen in my mouth that passed through my throat and filled my gut.

He refused to withdraw his manhood from my mouth and I kept lapping him. Wordlessly, he finally led me to his bed. He removed my clothes hastily and started sucking my twin nipples one after the other. I was delirious with pleasure. The guy was made to make love, I swear. He took his time liking my neck, navel, nipples and finally turned me over. His tongue probed my hole.I had never been rimmed before so I was not ready for the enormous pleasure that spread from my hole to my ears and spine. I started shivering uncontrollably. He probed in his finger, then another until I was wet enough. His massive onslaughts came. I muffled a scream as his giant dick stretched my twenty-two year old hole as he rammed it to the hilt. He was very rough. He fucked me like a demon from hell. He grunted with each stroke. The pain subsided and turned into a pleasure ride. My prostrate was on fire. Has he shoved in and released his cum for the second time, he grabbed my five inch dick and stream of longtime saved cum sprang out and we collapsed.

The next morning, I was cheerful while he looked dourly at me as if he regretted what had happened the previous night. It then dawned on me that he was just under the influence.

When we resumed from our furlough, Oliver refused to discuss or make reference to our one night of hot bliss. Subsequently, he would get drunk, come to the room and fuck the daylights out of me. The pattern remained the same. Then the next day he would be remorseful. I did not know what to do except to be at his beck and call. Like a whore. But then, I loved him and I didn’t care. I presented myself to him whenever he craved the desire even though I knew that he still banged many girls on campus.

However, our secret remained ours.


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