Pledges: Gay Erotic Stories (7 page)

“Is it?” Raf asked Grant. “Is what’s bothering me really okay?

You don’t even know what it is.”
“Well, then tell me.”
The article in
Advocate
magazine painted a glorious portrait of Lieutenant General Tomas Christiansen: he risked his life in the Gulf War by leading his men to safety during an ambush; he was awarded a Medal of Honor; he shook hands with Presidents Bill Clinton and George W. Bush. The accompanying photograph presented a man whose smile was a little bit goofy, a little bit cocky; a smile on a face square of jaw and boyish of features. All this time and Tomas looked as though he had never lost his small-town, world-welcoming idealism, which was a bad thing. Such innocence could have rendered him mindless of the suspicion of his superiors. Whatever his achievements, they fell apart when his emails were compromised on his twentieth year in service. Military investigators discovered messages they deemed unbecoming of an officer, love letters that incriminated him as homosexual.

On June 21, 2007, Lieutenant General Tomas Christiansen was ordered to resign his commission.
“He died a few days after that,” Raf said. “A self-inflicted gunshot wound. That was three months ago and I’m only learning about it now. He died on the last Sunday of June.”
“Oh, Raf. I’m so, so sorry.”
On the deck below, a drag queen in red stilettos and an oversized hat to match was reading the winning numbers to a raffle. Couples stood with arms around each other’s waist or with a head resting on another’s shoulder. Friendships were forming. The world continued as it had been yesterday. Then again, not quite: nobody was a stranger on this cruise anymore. Even though these men may not yet know everybody by name, each man was now a familiar, welcoming sight.
And so the party rolled on.
“Thank you,” Raf said to Grant.
“For what?”
“For being here. For being alive.”
“Baby,” Grant said. “I’m not going anywhere. Nothing will happen to me.”
Don’t say that
, Raf thought. Tomas had said that. He had said that the last time they had made love.
“Why?” Raf had asked him. “Why enlist?”
“I’m not enlisting,” Tomas said. “I’m accepting a commission.”
“Whatever. Same thing.”
They were lying naked on Tomas’s bed. Senior year, Tomas had gotten his own room in the fraternity, where Raf had spent more time than he did in his own dorm. They had decided not to live together for the sake of discretion. The whole frat came to know about them anyway, and none of the brothers gave a damn.
Tomas’s books were now packed. The walls were bare of the battleship posters and images of verdant landscapes torn from
Life
magazine.
“Nobody’s making you accept any of this military crap,” Raf continued.
“Don’t talk like that. This is important to me.”
“Is it more important than me?”
“That isn’t fair, Raf.”
“You have a choice.”
Tomas spooned himself into Raf. “And I choose to use my education for the benefit of many,” he said. “The military is the way I know how. My uncle did it. My grandfather did it.”
“I’m worried.” Raf’s tone reduced nearly to a whimper. “The military isn’t kind to guys like us. I thought it would be when we first met and I was new to this country. Not anymore. In some ways freedom in America remains an illusion.”
“Nothing bad will happen to me,” Tomas said.
“What about us? What about that forever shit? You’re the only reason I joined the fraternity. I did it to always be close to you.”
Silence.
They had used one toothbrush. They had worn one another’s piss-stained jockstraps. They had surreptitiously slid their hands down each other’s backside during frat parties, probed their holes, then shoved their ass-sordid fingers inside a drunken fellow bro’s mouth. And now Tomas had nothing to say.
Tomas remained lying on his side, spooned into Raf. Raf grabbed Tomas by the chin and turned his face over his shoulder so that he was looking at Raf.
It was Raf’s turn to violate Tomas. A year since the initiation, it was Raf’s turn. Raf had never fucked before, and for this first time, he was going to fuck with a vengeance. He spat on his cock and plowed into Tomas’s rear, ground his pelvis and pushed deep as far as he could go.
Tomas focused on Raf’s eyes. His own eyes were murky green with venom and submission.
“You like that, Tomas…Tom…Tommy.”
“Fuck you, Raf. Fuck you.”
“No, fuck you,” Raf kissed Tomas. He kissed Tomas and he fucked him up the butt like a maniac. “Take that up your faghole,” he said.
“Who are you calling a fag?” Tomas spat on Raf’s face. “Who? You’re a worthless piece of shit, you know.” He tightened his butthole muscles. His sphincter clamped like a visor around Raf’s manhood.
Raf experienced his first orgasm in the depths of another soul, a beautiful soul to whom a year ago he had lost his boyhood and who had just now lost his own boyhood to him.
“Repeat after me,” Raf said. “Raf belongs to Tomas. Tomas belongs to Raf.”
“Raf belongs to Tomas. Tomas belongs to…” Tomas’s voice trailed off into a sob.
They held each other on the damp sheets. Their bodies were soaked in sweat, spit, tears and cum. Through the open window, the sun shone. It bathed the pair in a golden mist. The tip of a tree was visible, as were schools of birds distant in the sky.
Raf didn’t understand why Tomas was sacrificing him for an esoteric cause. A star-studded epaulet possessed no eyes to gaze into, no mouth to savor, no heart to touch. Nobility didn’t exist in saluting generals if it meant searching for the most natural of human connections in a public bathroom. But Raf did understand this: wherever Tomas was going, he would have to go alone…and there would be no turning back.
On the cruise, Grant promised Raf, “Nothing will happen to me.” He stood in front of Raf, held both of Raf’s hands in his. How could anything happen to Grant? He was Raf’s protector, alpha-male muscles bursting with vitality and a face vibrant with life.
And yet, if by some miracle Tomas showed up and said to Raf, “I want you back,” Raf didn’t know what he’d do because in a way, he wanted Tomas to come back, if only to witness this—the happiness that could have been possible between the two of them, or the happiness that Tomas himself could have had with another man.
“I can’t ever forget him,” Raf said.
“Never forget,” said Grant.

I could hear the can of red spray paint shaking in my backpack. The street was quiet and dark and I tried to move as quickly as I could on the pristine sidewalk. I could hear dogs and cars in the distance, a reminder I wasn’t so far from the main road, even though the development I was in felt like it was a million miles away. The tree-lined street was full of McMansions, mostly new construction, each with a perfectly manicured lawn and an extra-long driveway. The neighborhood had sprung up around the university and had become a favorite place for professors to call home. As I got closer to the address I was after, my palms started to sweat. I didn’t know if I could go through with it, but I knew I had too. The pledge master had left me no choice.

I never thought I’d join a frat, but once I saw how hot the guys of Tau Kappa Rho were, I knew I had to at least give it a try. Pledging had been less scary than I thought it would be, mostly a lot of binge drinking and drunken antics that seemed tame in comparison to the horror stories I’d been told in the dorm Freshman year. I was beginning to think I would coast right through, at least until I was assigned my current mission. In an innocent conversation over pizza one night, I made the mistake of telling the guys how much I liked Professor Gregson’s class. The next week, I was informed by Nails, our pledge master, that my next show of allegiance was to come in the form of spray painting our letters on the professor’s front door. I balked at first, but the guys made it clear that my membership would be determined by how well I completed this task. A true show of loyalty, as Nails put it.

I rounded the corner and saw Professor Gregson’s house. It was a more modest home compared to the others, but still impressive. The place was dark and I crept along the hedges that lined the space next to the sidewalk, careful to stay out of sight. As I made my way up the driveway, I heard a sound in the distance and my heart jumped into my throat. My feet started to move faster, anxious to get my job done and snap a quick pic for the guys. As I crouched by the front door, I saw that the white paint was completely unblemished. Once again, guilt bubbled up and I tried to swallow it down.

The zipper on my backpack sounded louder than it ever had before as I opened it slowly, removing the can of paint as gingerly as I could. The ball bearing inside the can rattled no matter how little I moved it and I feared I would give the game away. The cap of the spray can popped away from me into the grass, the noise like a gunshot in the eerie quiet of the night. With a deep breath, I pointed the paint can at the door and pressed the nozzle down before I could change my mind. An anemic spray of red paint emerged, but it was only enough to make a red dot on the pristine door. I had no choice but to shake the can. I tilted it back and forth as slow as I could, careful to keep the noise to a minimum. This time when I sprayed, the paint came out beautifully, but before I could finish the
T
and move on to the
K,
a light above my head flicked on and the door was pulled open.

Professor Gregson towered above me, and I was too frozen with fear to think of running away. His voice was far too calm for the situation, but it still kicked me in the guts when he spoke.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I jumped to my feet, thinking once more of a quick getaway, but then thought better of it. I had no answer for his question and when I shrugged, I saw a look of recognition cross his face.

“Alan? Is that you? What the hell?”

I had to give him an answer, if for no other reason than I didn’t want to fail his class. I’d have to worry about getting kicked out of the frat later.

“I can explain. It’s a frat prank, part of the hazing, you know. They told me to come here and spray our letters on your door. I tried to get out of it, but they wouldn’t let up. I’m so sorry Professor Gregson.”

He looked down at the red
T
on his door and shook his head.
“Damn Tau Kappa Rho. I guess some things never change. I was Beta Chi when I was in school, and we always hated you guys.”
“Don’t take this wrong, Professor Gregson, but I just don’t see you as the frat type.”
“I could say the same thing about you, Alan. Especially a shitty house like TKR.”
“They’re not bad guys, really.”
“Except for the vandalism, you mean.”
There was a smile on his face that made me relax a bit, but I was still scared about what would happen when I went home empty handed. I waited for Professor Gregson to speak as I had absolutely no idea what to do.
“So, Alan. What are we going to do?”
“If I clean this up and get out of here, can we forget this ever happened? I really can’t afford any disciplinary action on my file. My parents would kill me. And, the frat would drop me for sure. Please, Professor Gregson, isn’t there something I can do?”
He looked me up and down, rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes as he eyed me, making me sweat.
“I don’t think it’s that simple, Alan. This is a big deal. I can’t just forget about it. This kind of behavior needs to be dealt with.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I wouldn’t blame you for turning me in. Hell, I deserve it. Can I at least come in and wait for the cops? It’s kind of cold out here.”
I looked down, resigned to my fate. How could I have been so stupid? When I looked up again, Professor Gregson was smiling and I had no idea why.
“I’ve got a better idea, Alan. One that I think will work for both of us.”
“What’s that, Professor?”
“How about I let you finish your tag so you can satisfy the frat. In exchange, you do something for me. That way, we can keep this whole thing just between us. No need to involve the school.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Why not? You’d have to clean it up too, of course. But, I think we might be able to work something out. After all, you are one of my favorite students. It’s the least I can do. So, are you game, Alan?”
“Sure, yeah. Okay. Whatever you say, Professor Gregson.” “I like that answer, Alan.”
He stepped outside the door and gestured to the spray can I was still holding.
“Well, go ahead and finish, Alan. Don’t want to keep the boys waiting, do you?”
I knelt down on the front step and quickly finished the letters then I clicked the pic and sent it to Nails. I let out the breath I was holding and felt calm for the first time all night. It was then I glanced up and noticed the glint in Professor Gregson’s eyes, a look that made my stomach tighten again. I tried to stand up, but he stopped me, leaving me no choice but to stay on my knees. When he spoke, I knew immediately what he had in mind for his return favor.
“Well, Alan. Now that you got what you wanted, it’s my turn.”
He reached inside the door and flicked the lights off, plunging us back into the shadows. The light from the house across the street allowed me to see his face, but just barely. I didn’t have any trouble seeing his hand drop to his zipper or hearing the metal teeth coming apart. He stepped closer to me, pulling his dick from his pants and flashing it in my face.
“Well, what are you waiting for, Alan? I thought we had a deal. You wouldn’t want me to call the cops, or maybe the rest of your future brothers would like to know how you failed miserably at your task and I had to let you paint my door.”
I shook my head, but my eyes stayed fixed on his thick cock, semihard and inches from my mouth. I guess I hesitated a bit too long, because he grabbed the back on my head and shoved his cock into my mouth. Not that I really minded. Professor Gregson was my favorite teacher for more than just his fun lesson plans. He was also hot as hell. If sucking him off would get me out of trouble, I viewed it as a bonus not a hardship. There were worse ways to spend an evening.
He pumped his hips forward, easing himself deeper into my throat. I nearly gagged but I kept going, licking the flared head of his cock each time he pulled back for another thrust. My hands gripped his thighs as he fucked my face, his grunts filling the silence around us. I could feel my own cock straining in my jeans, but I didn’t do anything about it. I just took him, spit starting to drip out of the corners of my mouth as I blew him. He seemed to be getting close and I braced myself for a load of spunk. Instead, he pulled back from me, a gasp of air filling my struggling lungs.
“Get up, Alan. I think we should take this inside before one of my nosy neighbors spots us.”
I got to my feet just as he pushed the door open. He grabbed the drawstring on my hoodie and pulled me inside, leading me into his living room. I stood still as he pushed my backpack from my shoulders and stripped me of the dark hoodie I’d worn for camouflage. He didn’t stop there, yanking my T-shirt up and over my head. I was torn between the unease growing inside me and the ache growing in my cock. Blowing him was one thing, but I could see that Professor Gregson had much more in mind than just a quick blow job.
“Professor Gregson, I’m not so sure this is a good idea.”
“Of course it is, Alan. Besides, it’s not like you have much choice now. I mean, you’ve already spray painted my door. I kept up my end of the bargain, now it’s time for you to keep up your end. So to speak. Now take your pants off or I pick up that phone and call the cops and, hell, how about the dean for good measure? I’m sure he’d love to know what you’ve been up to here tonight.”
I did as I was told and shucked off my pants and boxers. After taking a moment to stare at my naked body, Professor Gregson pushed me back down on my knees and shoved his cock back in my mouth. He was even rougher than he had been outside, fucking my mouth fast and deep, crying out each time he hit the back of my gullet. I couldn’t resist giving my own cock a jerk, precum oozing out of me as I deep-throated my history professor in his living room. It shocked me how much I was getting off on being helpless to Professor Gregson’s whims. I never thought of myself as submissive, but the thought of doing everything he told me to do turned me on beyond belief. It stopped being about having to do what he said and turned into wanting to do what he said. Professor Gregson pulled his cock out of my mouth abruptly and started throwing off his clothes as he spoke.
“Get up and bend over the arm of the couch, Alan. Let me see that ass of yours.”
I scrambled to my feet and did as I was instructed, just as if I was in his classroom. Leaning forward on the overstuffed couch arm, I felt my face burn with a mixture of lust and shame. Professor Gregson pushed me even farther forward, until my feet were nearly off the ground and my face touched the cushion. When he pulled my asscheeks apart, I gasped, feeling his hot breath on my skin.
“You know, Alan, I’ve had fantasies about this, but I never thought I’d get the chance to act on them. And then you showed up on my doorstep. Talk about lucky.”
As the last word came out of his mouth, he swirled the tip of a finger around my pucker. I moaned at the contact, his touch so light yet so intense. My cock strained to find room where it was pressed against the couch, as Professor Gregson teased my hole. When the warm, wet prod of his tongue replaced his finger, I couldn’t stop myself from pushing back against him, my eagerness overtaking my reason. Round and round my asshole he went, driving me mad with his tongue torture. I tried to stop the words I was thinking from coming out of my mouth, but it was no use.
“Professor, please. I want you to fuck me.”
I felt the hard slap of his palm on my asscheek before he stood up and leaned over me, talking into my ear.
“Wow, someone’s impatient, aren’t they? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were begging me, Alan. Are you?”
I closed my eyes and said the only thing I could say.
“Yes. God, yes, I’m begging you. Please, please fuck me. Sir.”
Saying the word felt better than it should have and it seemed to have a similar effect on Professor Gregson.
“Sir. I like that, Alan. I think from now on, that’s what I want you to call me. Get it?”
Another three slaps rained down on my ass, and I gave into him once again.
“Yes, Sir. I get it. Whatever you say.”
“You always say just the right thing, don’t you, Alan?”
I heard him walk away, but he returned quickly, greeting me with another spank to each cheek. When his lubed fingers started playing with my ass, I started writhing, my body desperate for his cock. But, Professor Gregson seemed in no hurry. He plied me and opened me up, alternating between fucking me with one finger, then two, and back to one again. I pushed back against his invading digits, but it did nothing to alter his pattern.
“You can squirm all you want, Alan, but I’m not going to fuck you until I’m good and ready. Although, I have to say, it does make for a pretty sight. If I had known you were this easy, I’d have approached you months ago. But, you’re all mine now aren’t you, slut?”
I wasn’t sure if he wanted an answer, but I gave him one anyway.
“Yes, Sir. I’m your slut.”
My cheeks burned at my words, but I couldn’t help it. I needed him to fuck me, and I would do or say whatever it took to make that happen. I gasped when I felt the sheathed head of his cock pressing against my asshole, slipping and sliding around my opening. I made myself relax and I felt the tip of his cock enter me, the initial bite of pain quickly giving way to pleasure. He kept pushing, making me stretch to take him. God, he was thick. His hands gripped my hips as he drove into me to the hilt, his balls resting against my ass.
“God, you are tight, Alan. Does it feel good?”
“Yes, Sir. So good.”
He started fucking me, slowly pounding his cock into my ass. I felt every inch of the push and pull, his fingers digging bruises into my flesh. The pain only made me hotter, my cock begging to be touched. As if reading my mind, Professor Gregson reached around me and took me in hand, jerking me in time to his powerful thrusts. His voice was once again in my ear, his words like gasoline on my fire.
“Do you like your punishment, Alan?”
“Yes, Sir. Oh, god, yes.”
He started fucking me faster, his hand keeping pace with his cock.
“I think this may need to be an ongoing rehabilitation, Alan. Something more long term to make sure you really are reformed. We wouldn’t want you to do this kind of thing again, now would we?”
“No, Sir.”
He twisted his fist around the head of my cock and I felt myself start to unravel. My ass clenched around his cock as I came, my body shaking uncontrollably as he continued to pound into me. I was spent, but he kept fucking me until he let out a loud groan, pulling his cock out of me and discarding the condom in time to come on my back, his hot jizz coating my skin. My legs were weak when I stood up, but I managed to make it to the bathroom to clean up. When I returned to the living room, Professor Gregson was already dressed and holding a bucket and cleaning supplies.
“Get dressed, Alan. It’s time to clean up the mess you made. And if you do a good job, I just might give you a reward.”
He smirked at me as I stepped into my pants, and I couldn’t resist a little dig.
“And if I don’t do a good job, Professor?”
He walked over to me and smacked me on the ass, the smile still on his face.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to punish you again. God, I’m so glad you wanted to be a frat boy, Alan.”
I grabbed the bucket and let him pull me into a kiss.
“Me too, Professor Gregson. Me too.”