NEVER
WORKING CLINT
Sleep With A Porcupine
Quickly the campus filled with its full component of students. The football season and all the related activities were the major interest of all but the most sincere academic nurds. Walt soon found that university coeds were much the same as high school girls. If a guy was a jock and half-way decent looking, he could have his pick.
He made no close friends on the team. He was respected for his high school accomplishments, but this was a different kind of football. Walt found he had to prove himself again, to his teammates and even to himself. It was rough the first season being a star only relative to the Freshmen scrubs. The had scheduled games, with other collegiate Freshmen squads, some junior varsity teams and one first string junior college team.
What amazed Walt was the intensity of competition, not just for varsity positions but even among the scrubs. Two non-scholarship receivers made it clear they wanted to bump Walt off the roster. There was constant testing of skills and stamina. The coaching staff didn't appear to be favoring anyone. Walt understood. If he could be replaced by a player that was paying his own way then Walt's financial assistance would be available for other needs. Friendly competitions during try outs and the pre-season training sessions were now approached with a fierce attitude that Walt had previously experienced only from the opposing team.
Among the females on campus, he gained a quick reputation. The whispers raced through the sorority sisters and the dorm girls that this Freshman hunk from the football team had a brain and was fun to be with. A more limited group who experienced Walt on a more familiar basis soon passed on another tid-bit, to those interested, that this young man was a rare find.
Out of quiet discussions and eager revelations of his powers as a bed partner it was soon agreed that Walter Johnston exceeded any known male on the campus for size and aptitude. Some argued that there might easily be one or more faithful one woman men on campus that could be better endowed. The reply to that was to strongly point out that unless they were available there was no comparison because there was nothing to compare.
A few times Walt found that this reputation and his membership on the football team challenged the manliness of a fellow student. Some even went out of their way to provoke a fight. Because he knew nothing would be proven, he tried to side step these situations. When one Junior that was an intercollegiate wrestling champion kept after him, he finally gave in. But, he forced it to be settled his way, in the ring with gloves on. It was held in Howard Field House with an audience, referee, and the regular intramural boxing rules. Walt conducted himself well. Actually, he nearly beat the living crap out of the loud mouth lout that had challenged him before the fight was declared a TKO win. The rest of the campus got the message.
He only had one more bad experience caused by the same jealousy and insecurity. This time it came from a fellow Freshman that jumped Walt at one of the illegal student beer joints that dotted the country roads around the university's host town. Sure, Walt shouldn't have been there. The places were off limits. No student was suppose to patronize these refurbished farm houses, barns and old filling stations. But, these places were an important part of the local economic structure. Unless you were of age, you could not touch your lips to a beer in town. Out here, it was money, not age, that was respected; even by the county sheriff and his staff.
Walt was on a double date with one of the needy jocks he had worked with that summer. The attack came just as they stepped out of the door. Caught by surprise, Walt defended himself. The four of then took his attacker to the local hospital when it was over. Walt had a few scrapes, his opponent had a split lip, one soon to be black eye and a ringing in his ears that he claimed didn't stop until after that Christmas. He apologized to Walt later and, in a strange twist, became a leading member of Walt's small but growing fan club on campus.
The academic side of Walt's university life was dull. There appeared no challenges greater than those he had already addressed in high school. At least this was the case in his Freshmen classes. he heard many comments that made him wonder about the next three years and eager to see if they would involve some real work for his brain.
Sexually he didn't uncover any new experiences, until during the second session that year. He was active. More so than he expected to be. But he never let any date get too close, no relationship last too long. He was exciting to be with for most because of the mystery and strange distant aura about him. Trying to really know Walter Larimor Johnston was impossible, everyone agreed.
One chilly night in March he found himself in bed with two Seniors with chestnut locks and matching color covering their Venus mounds. They could have been twins, but weren't. They had met and become roommates and soul mates their Freshman year. They enjoyed themselves as much as they enjoyed Walt. He got off watching them sucking each other's clits and licking their mutually smooth bellies up to and on to their breasts.
Although originally the evening involved the two of them giving Walt a bath with their tongues, it had evolved into their lesbian display. That had been triggered by Walt's asking a fairly leading question.
"So, what do the two of you do when a stud like me isn't around?"
Raising from their adoration of his body, they smiled knowingly and told him that if he wanted to know, they would show him. Since this was definitely a new experience for Walt, he eagerly accepted their offer. He was amazed at what the two of them were able to do together. He was further amazed at the intensity of his own sexual response to watching them. It was impossible not to masturbate as he urged the girls on.
Although involved in responding to his urgings, the girls became aware of his self gratifying activity. Moving as one they pulled him into their tangle of limbs and lips. He soon found himself with the flush lips of a vagina pressed against his. His tongue explored the trigger spots around and in the sweet opening before him. At the same time he felt his member glide deep into a well versed throat. Teeth were lightly clamped on the base of his throbbing shaft as he pushed his hips forward. They scraped gently up and down the column of super sensitive skin. He and his companion in lust parted and then eased together again, and again. When he was almost fully extracted the teeth clamped down firmly on the bulbous end and sent waves of pain wrapped in a heavy sensual anesthetic shooting into him.
His reaction at both ends of his body was automatic. He sucked in a fold of the female flesh trembling at his mouth and began to lightly chew. At the same time his pelvis tensed and crashed forward. It she wasn't quick to release him he knew his agony would be even more intense. But he couldn't control the plunging action. Her mouth opened wide as she tilted her head. He shot in as far as he could reach and rocked back out. Stopping with his dick head still in that mouth he found himself urging her to hurt him again.
Walt's penis was on fire with a mixture of pains and pleasures he wanted to last forever. He wanted to eat his way into the warm moist opening he faced. He wanted to be devoured by the fierce daggers that pressed and pulled on his cock. He wanted it all to go on and on. He wanted to float on the sea of cum he knew was building force, surging, ready to break through the dam within him and drown them all.
When his next spasm forced him deep down between the eager jaws that had been torturing him, he broke. The climax rolled over him in waves as he felt a moist gush splash in his mouth and down his chin. His own release came as his hips ground him against the rim of the cavern that encased him trying to drive deeper and deeper with each spurt that jetted out from his burning cock.
As he drifted letting the ecstasy of the moment carry him he realized that he had just had his first three way sex. It was one for the books, the equal of anything he had seen in Matt's collection or heard Matt brag about participating in. He was a stud. A male fucking machine. How had he ever questioned himself.
After this experience and what had happened so far during the year, Walt felt secure in his masculinity. The fact that he had imagined himself back with Matt on that one evening with Jan didn't bother him anymore. It had been so early in the summer. It was just a case of not yet being over his infatuation with Matt. He was now.
Walt even felt confident enough in himself to accept a call from Matt that came the next week. He expected pleading or begging, but Matt was all full of what was going on in his life and questioning him about the same. It was just an old high school friend catching up on the news. Not one word was said about their relationship, that last night or Walt's former junior college plans. If Matt could ignore it, so could he, thought Walt. Best to let the past be, anyway.
- o o o -
Over his four years at the university he never did see Matt. But they averaged an hour or more on the phone every six months or so. Matt never was home when Walt visited. He sent Walt cards for Christmas and his birthday, nothing else.
Things settled down and the days flew. Walt was doing what he had set forth to accomplish. Keeping clear of entangling relationships, fulfilling his promises to the athletic department on the playing field and the track, passing his classes with ease, completing the tuition work assignments he was given and otherwise staying busy with workouts and bike rides.
The Freshman year was soon over. It had been unique but not exhausting. Maybe over the summer he could decide where he was going with this adventure into higher education. He couldn't see a future for a degree holder with a general Humanities major and a record as a fair jock. He needed to decide on a direction.
Walt's first big work assignment his second summer was to join the building maintenance crew at work painting in the Student Union. It would be nice being able to take breaks right in the building at the Cougar Grill. It was even better finding that the starting point was the two large meeting rooms right by the Grill. This was to be followed by painting on the Grill itself. The work on the Grill ceiling and walls would involve after hours time. They wouldn't pass up the profits to be made off summer students. Or, according to the Student Union's manager, they wanted to keep the only campus service open for the summer students.
To start there were three needy jocks working this detail. They meet with their maintenance crew boss just once. At that meeting, held at the Union, he introduced the Student Union manager and his two student managers. Any questions on schedules, what paints, break times, everything, he told them should be taken up with the Union's management. For this job they were being temporarily reassigned. It was all involved in bookkeeping for their pay. Walt and the other two didn't care how it was done as long as they got the needed tuition credits.
Walt had been on the new job just two days when a scruffy looking fellow followed him into the restroom one day after lunch. He didn't sense anything unusual, there was always traffic in and out during peak service hours at the Grill. Standing at a urinal Walt was suddenly aware of someone standing right behind him. The body pressed closer, whoever was obviously sexually excited.
Walt shoved back and started to turn. Just as quickly a hand reached around and grasped his privates. A voice rasped in his ear offering to give him ten bucks if he'd let the guy give him a blow job. Walt jerked out of the offending grip and punched out the groper with one swing. Adjusting his clothing, Walt went right to the phone outside the restrooms and called the campus police office. The guy was still out when they drug him from the building.
When the Chief interviewed Walt later he informed Walt that the offender was well known to the force. He was a local that got sent away, returned to pull his dirty ol' man act, got sent away again and returned again. He didn't end up with hard time due to the fact he was a wayward elder son of the richest local family in the county. Unless Walt wanted to get involved in court testimony and all the related hassle, the Chief counseled that Walt should let them handle it. The guy wasn't suppose to be on campus. The patrols would get their asses chewed and it shouldn't happen again.
Christ on a crippled crutch, thought Walt. Why can't the fucking world leave him alone. It would have been different if he had been showing off his body like he had sometimes last summer. Hell, at the Union he was wearing baggy coveralls and a ball cap both splattered with paint. And paint was also streaked on his face and hands. His appearance just wasn't that appealing. Shit, he mulled, you just can't win. Later in the restroom he studied himself in the mirror. It was even worse than he had thought. He even had paint streaks in his hair that wasn't fully covered by the ball cap. He looked a mess.
Starting the third week Walt was painting by himself upstairs in the main ballroom. A mix of Stan Kenton and semi-familiar tunes was playing from the speakers set in the ceiling. It was just a little loud. Walt wished someone would turn it down. On his break he decided he would see who was in the office and ask if they had a way to tone down the concert. Seemed silly, in a way. There was no one but him up here. Why was the music on at all?
Before he could take any action one of the student managers he had met at the first meeting walked in and plopped on a sofa that was part of a seating group on the other side of the ballroom. There were five groups scattered along that side. A matching five were along the wall Walt was painting. He had covered them with protective throws.
Walt said 'Hi' and the guy across the room jumped. He then turned and saw he wasn't alone.
"Cripes, I didn't remember anyone was working up here. Sorry, bet that music is a bother. It's my fault. I put it on and have it that loud because I just like to sneak away up here and listen as if I was right there with them, whomever's playing." he explained.
"I'll agree it's a little loud but I like your selections." said Walt with a nod.
"I'll keep it down from now on. You wouldn't mind if I join you up here now and then just to listen, would you?"
Walt gave a wave of his hand. "O.K. by me. You're Clint Underwood, one of the student managers, right? We met when I first got assigned to painting here."
"Yep, that's me. You're . . . damn it, I remember you but not your name," said Clint.
"Walt. Walter Johnston."
"You're the football slash track scholarship guy, right?"
"That's me."
A buzzer sounded mixed with the music. It was repeated insistently.
"Got to go. That's the phone in the office. See you around, Walt." Clint waved absently as he ambled out toward the main staircase.
The next day the music was just as great, but softer. It was quite a bit easier to listen to and still concentrate on the painting to be done. At break time Clint appeared with two Cokes.
"I was coming up anyway to relax and do a little listening. Care to join me?"
Walt nodded agreement, wrapped his brush in tinfoil and tapped the lid on the open can of paint. He took a throw off of the seating group near where he was painting and covered a lounge chair in the group where Clint was seated.
"Thanks! This is as good a break as scrambling downstairs to the Grill and having the jukebox blare in your ears," commented Walt.
Clint offered to take Walt's lunch order and make a delivery. "Let me take you up on that later," Walt replied.
Over the next week Clint frequently appeared to join Walt for break or lunch. If he didn't show he usually made a reminder announcement over the intercom, or noted when he would be available to meet Walt at the Grill. When they were together he filled Walt in on campus gossip and recent student evaluations of the faculty: who's easy, who to avoid.
As days passed, Walt concluded that Clint's attention had just a touch of sexual overtone. There wasn't anything said which directly or even by straining interpretation implied Clint was 'that way' or was somehow trying to get Walt to expose his own sexual orientation. Walt wasn't sure why he felt the way he felt. It boiled down to a sense Walt was beginning to develop that told him when he was being hunted. Then once in a while he did catch an expression on Clint's face or a glint in his eyes that Walt was sure confirmed his opinion.
Clint wasn't that appealing to Walt anyway. But he was clean, neat and fun to be with. Clint was a short stocky red headed teddy bear of a guy with an open baby face.
The second Friday Walt was finished with the ballroom. The other paint crew members were also done with their assignments. It was time to report back in to maintenance on Monday and find out about the next job. Clint joined Walt as he cleaned up for the last time after work. He asked Walt if he'd like a tour of the parts of the Union he hadn't been painting. Walt kept busy, pretending not to have heard the question.
Somehow Walt was sure what was going to happen. Finishing the clean up, he carried all the maintenance department materials down to right inside the loading dock doors. A truck crew would pick things up sometime next week. The last item was the ladder which Clint helped him lug down the service stairs.
"Well, you want to see the entire Union in all it's glory?" asked Clint again.
Not sure if he wanted anything to happen or not, Walt followed Clint as he started back up the stairs. When Clint turned and saw Walt following behind his face broke into a warm grin.
They spent the first half-hour in the office. Clint had to show off the intercom and his record collection. He had Walt sit at the control board. Leaning into and over Walt he pointed out and demonstrated the array of control knobs and switches. Walt let his hand linger and their fingers touched. In moving his arm Walt's shoulder rubbed Clint's groin. Clint pressed back for an instant and then caught his breath and moved back away from the contact.
"I'll need to start the rounds to lock up in about fifteen minutes. I can give you the full tour then. Have to check that all areas are vacated and secure as part of the drill. Want to see the cafeteria kitchen, that's where I usually start?" Clint's voice was weak with a mild squeak that pointed to his nervousness.
"Whatever you have to do. I would like to see more of the behind the scene stuff. How big is it?" Walt let a deliberate pause fill the air with tension. "The cafeteria kitchen." Walt grinned up at Clint watching his take on the double meaning of the question.
Clint became clearly flustered. He bumbled out of the office and through the kitchen touching Walt on the arm, guiding him. At first his grip would be firm and then he would jerk away, then return to guide Walt with just the lightest of touches.
As they continued to move through the building Walt could tell Clint was trying to figure what was happening. Was Walt with him just out of curiosity as stated, taking the offered tour? Was Walt staying around in response to the unspoken invitation Clint had made and Walt had seemed to comment on in the office?
When they were finished with the upper floors Clint led Walt down the back service stairs past the first floor area where they had left the ladder. On the basement floor Clint pointed out a hall running behind the Grill lined with office style doors.
"Well, that is a curiosity. I never noticed this all the time I was down here painting in the meeting rooms or in the Grill," said Walt. "What is this anyway?"
"The back way to the Grill, for deliveries from the dock. These are student organization offices mainly. But the best furnished is this one." Clint threw open a door marked 'Nurse'.
Walt glanced in. "Just another office, right?"
"Nope. Look in here."
Clint crossed the office, stood in an archway to another room and pointed. Walt joined him. They were looking at a full size sofa, two side chairs and a hospital bed. It was a clinical setting with a few cozy touches, the work of the nurse herself no doubt.
"Wow, a regular make-out room," Walt exclaimed softly and smiled at Clint. He then turned and exited. Walking down the hall Walt asked, "You mean the Grill's just down at the end of this hall? I'm really amazed I missed this. Thanks for showing me. Thanks for the entire tour."
Clint followed along after Walt reluctantly. "I was going to show you . . . "
"We'll have time after you close up the building for anything you've got left for show and tell. O.K., Mr. Underwood, sir." Walt let a kidding tone lighten the mood as he smiled at Clint.
Clint was sure there was a double meaning in what Walt was saying this time. He rushed the closing when they found only two students and the fry-cook/server occupying the Grill. "Take the rest of the night, Fred. We'll pay the full hour," he told him employee and he literally shoved him out the door after the two departing customers and started locking up.
After Clint locked the last door he led Walt back down to the Grill. "There was something in the Nurse's rooms I wanted to show you. Follow me," he directed.
"Right behind you. You know, Clint, there are more strange little nooks and crannies in this building than I imagined. Wouldn't want to run into a sex fiend back down that hall with the lights off. Might have trouble fighting him off in the dark." Walt was pushing the conversation to the limit. Daring Clint to make a move. Walt had decided to see just what the little teddy bear was after. He had been frustrated himself over the past few days, being turned down on what he had assumed was a sure thing date and finding new lighting being installed across the campus making it nearly impossible to find a place for self gratification during nighttime excursions like he had last summer.
Moving back down the hall Clint stepped into the Nurse's office and crossed again to the adjoining room with Walt following right behind. "It's really nothing, Walt." Clint opened a wall mounted cabinet. "There's first aid stuff on the top shelf. Medicines are locked in that cabinet over there. If you ever have an emergency it can get treated here, even after hours. I have a set of keys."
Walt stood and stared into Clint's eyes. "So you can take care of emergencies when the nurse is gone, like now. So, if I strain a muscle, need a little relief, have pulled something that shouldn't have been pulled? You're the man to see?" Walt refused to break eye contact. He could see Clint crumbling before him. Clint was trembling as he slowly crossed the room. He stopped and put his hands on Walt's shoulders, softly, tentatively. Walt just smiled. He was enjoying what was happening and felt himself growing hard.
Clint cleared his throat and squeaked again as he spoke. "Let me show you how convenient things are and how well trained I am in handling after hours muscle problems." Clint's hands moved on to Walt's chest and his eyes lowered to Walt's swelling crotch. "Particularly the kind you're having right now . . . " His voice trailed off into a tense silence.
Walt grunted. It wasn't a yes, it wasn't a no. It was enough to unfreeze Clint's hands. They tore at Walt's shirt, opening it, revealing his bare chest. Clint leaned in and started licking the pectoral muscles he had uncovered. His hands were now eagerly working on Walt's belt and the problem of releasing that straining muscle that was in need of attention.
Walt grasped Clint's head and pulled it up to face him. "I don't do this," he said firmly.
"But . . . " Clint was confused and pleading.
"You can do what you want, just don't expect any reciprocity," Walt stated.
Clint mumbled, "Don't care. I've got to. Can't help it. You're too find." He removed Walt's shirt with a little help. Walt's cock sprung out semi-rigid as Clint dropped Walt's pants and tugged his underpants down.
Crouched before him Clint ran his hands up Walt's legs and lightly touched Walt's sex. He watched as it twitched and lengthened. Leaning forward he kissed the head of the throbbing organ as it moved steadily out of the foreskin which when not aroused surrounded and protected it.
Undoing Walt's shoes he removed them, then his socks. Gently he eased the pants and underwear off each leg. Pushing Walt's legs apart he moved between them. Clint started licking the sack that hung from the now firm, erect cock. He quickly displayed a mastery that Walt appreciated, sucking in and eating on Walt's balls. He then moved with practiced skill up and down the underside of the shaft lifting above him. He sucked and nibbled on that tube which would soon carry Walt's cum as it bubbled, boiled and steamed its way out from those aching gonads.
Walt arched his back and thrust forward with his hips. Asking for action without saying a word: grunting again, louder. Clint moved out from under and let his lips enclose the shining moist knob. Moving with Walt's thrusts instead of against them he tongued off the pre-cum and rolled Walt's dick head between his lips.
He licked on the very tip, pressing as if to force his tongue down into the slit from which the lubricating droplets continued to pour. Walt reacted, moaning now with each hip shove. Moans that quickly turned to pleading for Clint not to stop, urging him to go on. Walt's hips pumped. Clint opened wide and bobbed his head in counterpoint, letting Walt drive deeper each time they came together.
Clint lifted up and thrust his head forward aligning himself better. On the next push Walt felt himself slide fully in. Clint's chin rested for an instant against Walt's testicles. Clint's hands grasped Walt's buttocks as he drew back. They held him captive within Clint's grasping, gasping mouth. This limited his back stroke and with a flex of Clint's arms slammed Walt forward. He felt his glans pop into Clint's throat and let out a louder groan.
Working together now they slowly increased the pulsing push and pull. Walt could feel Clint working muscles in his mouth and throat that Walt did not know existed. Clint's hold grew tighter as they struggled to bury Walt's cock in the depths of Clint's body. Walt's urging cries grew louder as pressure and passion raced through him. When he felt his climax breaking free he threw back his head and screamed that he was going to cum.
The tremors continued to rack Walt's body for minutes as his every nerve tingled while Clint's mouth and throat milked him again and again. Walt's knees were weak. He was shaking with muscles that ached from exhaustion and the rigid tension in which they had been locked at the peak of his orgasm.
Walt admitted to himself as he slowly recovered that this guy was fantastic. It had easily been as good as any head he had received from Jan last summer or any of the coeds this past year. Becoming serious in his evaluation of what had just transpired, Walt slowly let himself realize the truth. This had no been as good as, this had been a whole hell of a lot better.
Startled, Walt realized the only other person who was even close to being in the same league was Matt. This sobered him quickly. But, he had just let it happen. It hadn't been like with Matt. Why was he more sexed up when a guy swung on his dong? A little crude, but it was the question he wanted answered. Then he realized what the answer was, at least in his experience so far. It was better because a guy just knew more about what turned a guy on and how to work with the equipment. Clint sure as hell did.
With that question resolved Walt realized he was now hanging limp. Clint was stretched out on his back between his legs masturbating. Walt stepped off and scrambled around for his clothes. Dressing while being serenaded by the sounds of Clint beating off and moaning was definitely strange. As he tied his shoe laces Walt heard Clint cry out and gasp with release. Out of the corner of his eye he couldn't avoid seeing the body thrashing on the floor as that cock spewed out into the towel Clint clasped to himself.
Giving Clint time to catch his breath Walt then suggested he had better leave. He had obligations early Saturday morning, he lied.
"I need some time to clean up," said Clint, panting. "The north side door to the Grill opens from the inside and self locks." Walt turned to leave. "Walt . . . I want to see you again."
"Hey, Clint, be honest. You want my boner in your mouth again. If you could get it without the rest of me tagging along you'd be as happy as a pig in shit," Walt stated. "We'll see. Maybe. We'll just have to see. You're not bad, Mr. Underwood. Not bad at all." Walt felt in control. What happened was what he wanted, the way he wanted it to happen. So, with that non-responsive but praising comment, he left.
For the rest of the summer and through his Sophomore year Walt let Clint service him when other sexual release didn't work out. Clint was another devoted member of the Walter Johnston fan club. He clearly understood his role and his relationship with Walt. There never was any public display of affection or swishyness. Clint graduated at the end of Walt's second year. Walt never heard from Clint after that.
- o o o -
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