For those of you who are college-bound and reading this, you might want to take heed at the whole new world of college life. For those of you who are already attending classes in college, either you know things like this go on or you don't; there's no medium between the two. And for those who have passed through college safely (like myself), you probably know exactly what I'm talking about. Either way, this story should relate to almost anyone who happens across it. My name is Greg Karnoff, and I was a member of the class of '89 at Texas A&M (or should I say "Texas S&M"?). Graduating high school was a big step, but entering college was even bigger. It was as if I were on a whole other planet, foreign to the people and places around me. I can still vividly remember my freshman year, almost as if it was yesterday... I arrived on campus on a Saturday afternoon. My family and I had driven from Nebraska to get there. They helped me transport my things into my room -- it was empty at the time; I met my roomie later on in the evening -- and I saw them off. I would later visit them for Thanksgiving, but that's for some other time. Time passed by, and my roomie (a junior) introduced me to a whole new crowd than what I was accustomed to back in high school. I'd been with the "preppy" crowd; the people he brought me to, however, were more rugged..."skaters" is the term used now, although I don't think it was back then. Anyhow, I immediately took a liking to them, and they felt the same way about me. Jeff, my roomie, was my hero at the time. It's almost odd to think that your roommate could hold such a monumental title, but that's what he was. He had the face and body of a god, and the women around campus seemed to think so too: he brought a different one back to the room every other week, hushing me out into the halls or to the library so he could "get some." It became a routine thing with us, and we eventually had our own system worked out. One night in particular, I left the building but crept up to our window (we were only on the first floor) to watch him. I must have chosen a good night to do it, because Jeff somehow convinced the girl to join him in a threesome -- with another guy! They did it in plain sight from the window, and it was the greatest thing I'd seen all year. I recognized the other guy from our group, but I'd never suspected his cock was so large. It must have easily cleared nine inches, at least! Anyhow, I watched all fifteen minutes of that fiasco, waited for about ten, and returned to the room; everyone but Jeff had left. "Good timing," he commended me. "Guess I was just lucky," I replied modestly. "Where you headed?" I asked when I saw him pull his coat over his head. "Out to study," he said. "Got that American Studies test coming up next week." "I'll wait up for you," I joked, and he left the room, leaving me by myself. I had nothing to do -- no homework, no upcoming tests -- so I jacked off. I still had the image of Jeff and the two others screwing on the floor I was standing on, and my pulsing cock was begging to be stroked. I finished up, then noticed they hadn't completely cleaned up their mess. There was a huge load of cum on the floor that I somehow missed earlier. "He won't miss it," I told myself, then ran my index finger across it, licking it clean. It was approaching 11 by then, so I thought it would be good of me to get some sleep. The next day was Friday, and I couldn't wait to get out of class. Before he left in the morning, Jeff told me there was going to be a "meeting" in our group and I wasn't to miss it; it was my initiation. "Initiation?" I stammered when he told me. "What do I have to do?" "Depends," he replied, lacing his shoes. We said nothing else, and we each left for class. All day long, my mind was preoccupied with my initiation. Thoughts of terrible things, humiliating feats, outrageous ideas poured through my head the entire time. But it soon came time to leave, and my stomach was weak. My legs shook the whole time as I walked to our meeting place. I told myself everything would be all right, but part of me didn't want to believe it. "Greg, you came!" Jeff yelled from across the room. Heads turned. I noticed something strange about everyone there: they were all men. There were a couple women in our group, but all of them were absent. I thought it to be odd, but I dismissed it from my mind. "Let's get started," one of them called out. Whatever it was they had in mind, they didn't waste time getting it started. The whole heard moved to the center of the room, where all the furniture had been cleared away. I followed them as they sat in a lopsided circle, wondering what it was they were up to. A gang bang, maybe? No...I wasn't that lucky. Then what? "You've heard of the game 'Soggy Biscuit' before, haven't you?" one of them asked me. It was the guy from the threesome that one night. I glanced down at his crotch, remembering the size of his dong, then looked back up at his face. "No, I don't think so," I replied meekly. The rest of them made there "Ooohhh" and "Aaahhh" sounds. Uh-oh. "Well then," the same one addressed to the crowd, "we'll just have to show him what exactly it is, now won't we?" They agreed. One of them got up, went to a table, removed something from it and brought it back. I didn't see what it was until he centered it in the circle. It was a biscuit. That's right, a biscuit. "Men," he announced, "let's get started." He turned to me. I heard pants unzip and saw several of them get to their knees. They whipped out their dicks and started working on them. "Get on your knees" -- I did -- "and do like everyone else." I did that too. I pulled my cock from my pants and starting getting it hard. With all the other guys around me doing the same, it didn't take long at all. Jeff, who was sitting two people over, looked at me and said calmly, "The object of the game is to jack off and cum onto the biscuit there." He nodded toward the center. "The last one to shoot his load has to eat it." That's my initiation? I thought of saying, but held my tongue. A guy suffering from premature ejaculation would greatly benefit from this game...if ever in his life, at least. All I had to do was work my hand quickly and get it over with. Easy as pie, right? Right. And so the games began. Everyone's fists fiercely pounded away at their meat. Within one minute, two guys had ejaculated. Guess they weren't very hungry. Three minutes had elapsed, and it was down to four guys -- myself included. My head turned to look at them, their faces scrunching up, grunting noises from their mouths. I wondered how many of them actually wanted to eat it. I saw the guy from the threesome -- I later found out his name was Peter -- looking down at my package, then up at my eyes. His eyes were such a gorgeous shade of slate gray. Mine were a simple brown, but he seemed to fall in love with them nonetheless. Two guys shot their loads at the same time. It was now down to me and Peter. I was getting close to cumming, but Peter might have been too. I just wished it would shoot out already. The biscuit was loaded with sticky, white cum. You could hardly see any biscuit left anywhere. I remember thinking, "These guys must be a great aim." Peter was still working on his when I came. He came only seconds later -- I think I counted about ten, but it might have been as many as thirty -- and the huge load hit the center of the biscuit...or what I thought to be the center, anyhow. I smiled. It probably wouldn't have been so bad to have to eat that biscuit, but I could get the same enjoyment from watching Peter do it just the same. That's when it happened. Peter slowly crawled to the center, his cock still hanging out of his pants, and picked up the soaking biscuit, which dripped as he did so. He looked at it, opened his mouth a little, then shut it. His eyes found me, and the biscuit was shortly in front of my face. "Eat it," he demanded. The rest of them chanted, "Eat it, eat it, eat it!..." "But I didn't cum last," I pleaded. "Isn't that the rule?" "Not on initiation night, Greg," he informed me. "On any other night, sure, but tonight's a special night." Some of the other guys snickered. I let my eyes fall on the biscuit, which rested firmly in Peter's hand. "Oh, all right!" I said, and took it from him. Cum got all over my hand. I felt a thousand eyes watching me as I opened my mouth. I searched the crowd to find Jeff, who was gazing at me with wide eyes. I brought the biscuit to my mouth, let out a deep sigh, and took a bite. Everyone gasped, then applauded. Some of the cum dribbled down my chin, and I know I must have looked like an ass. None of that mattered, though. The biscuit tasted...well, kinda good. I finished the rest of it in three large bites, and some of them were shocked to see me eating it in such large allowances. Peter, however, wasn't. He smiled a deep, gorgeous smile. After the initiation ceremony, some of the others patted me on the back as they passed me to leave. Others just walked by and looked at me a little awkwardly, almost as if to say, "I think you enjoyed that a little too much." And still others walked by, a little slower than some, their eyes practically undressing me as they made for the door. None of them caught my full attention, however, like Peter did. He was the last to leave before me -- I think that was intentional -- and he approached me rather aggressively, knowing what he wanted and exactly how he was going to get it. "I saw you outside the window a few nights ago," was the first thing he said to me. Trying to think of what he was referring to, I searched back in my mind. I came up blank at first, then remembered the time when I watched Jeff plug up his new bitch with Peter. "Did you?" was all I could think of saying. I mean, what *do* you say in a situation like that anyway? "Yeah," he replied. "I noticed you were checking me out. Or at least I thought you were. Were you?" Not sure where this line of questioning was headed, I nodded, hoping not to regret it later. I didn't. Peter smiled; that relieved a lot of pressure from me, and I smiled back. "Okay," he said. "That's all I needed to know." He reached into his back-left pocket of his khakis and produced a folded-up piece of notebook paper. I accepted it from his big, strong, smooth hand into mine, and he left. Just like that, he left. Still stunned by what the purpose of all that might have been, I just watched him leave. I watched his tight ass wiggle in his khakis, admiring the great work he must have put in to get those "buns of steel." Remembering he'd passed me a note, I looked down at it and quickly opened it. The first thing I noticed was Peter's handwriting. It was so...girly. But not the big bubble-like letters or anything ugly like that. It was smooth, flowing, and rather beautiful. The content of the letter, however, was what struck me the most. It read: Greg, Meet me at Carter Hall in the lobby tomorrow night at 8. Bring protection and some lube if you've got it. I'll have everything else we need. Yours, Peter Carter Hall was the building where his dormitory was. It was right next to mine, Lincoln Hall. I went back to my room that night happier than anyone else in the world. My eyes were glowing, my legs and hands were shaking, my stomach felt weak, and I know that my face must have worn an absolutely huge smile during the time I walked back to Lincoln Hall. Peter's eyes and enormous prick were the only things on my mind the entire night. To be continued Copyright (C) Jack Mioff 1997-98
