Chapter 6 - The College Years - The Bareback Sex Stories

Chapter 6 The College Years - The Bareback Sex Short Stories

Pay For Play

Over the next few weeks my life started coalescing into a sort of normality. I went to class, studied, met professor Tracknester, cruised the park or hit the library glory hole when I was horny. I was learning about my subjects, the world and my sexuality.

I was becoming a comfortable adult - and I loved it.

I thought that there was nothing new to discover sexually. That does not mean that I was not excited. I loved getting on my knees, feeling a hard cock in my mouth or ass - and sometimes submitting as a slave to Professor Tracknester.

When I was too tired to go out and search for sex, I'd go into the shower, soap up my body and let my hand stroke my hard cock and play with my tight ass.

I loved the feel of wet soapy water as my hand slowly moved up and down my cock until I shot my load, surrounded by steamy water. Sometimes before I got in the shower I'd slip on a pair of panties and start to imagine I was a young girl getting ready to please her man and accept his hard shaft into my eager hole.

Still, as I was about to find out, nothing is ever that easy - and in every stage of life there are always new horizons, challenges and experiences to be had.

It was the week before midterms when the axe fell on what I thought was my perfect life. That's when my tuition bill for the next semester arrived.

When I'd applied to school I had assumed that I'd find some way to make enough money to afford to be here. Yet, with all of my new adventures, I'd kept putting off getting a job.

Now, I was in trouble. The university wanted several thousand dollars. Not only did I not have the money, there was no way I could find the cash working the standard minimum wage jobs that most students found around campus.

What was a boy to do?

My first thought was to talk to Mr. Tracknester. Perhaps, given the personal nature of our relationship, he could loan me the money until I got back on my feet.

This was a conversation that would change my life. I was about to get more sex than I ever dreamed possible - but of course there would be a price I had to pay.

I spent the day in class watching Mr. Tracknester as closely as possible. He was such a beautiful older man and when his eyes met mine, I would look down and notice the growing bulge in his pants.

It made my mouth water.
No matter what happened when I met him I knew that I would have to be down on my knees, smelling the sweat and heat of his balls and feeling his dominant cock push its way towards my eager throat.

Mr. Tracknester was my teacher in more ways than one.

It was with sex on my brain and an empty feeling in my wallet that I approached his office after class ended. I sometimes wondered if the other students noticed that I always seem to gravitate towards his door when the lecture ended.

Part of me hoped that I was able to move unnoticed. Then there was a deeper part of me that wanted the world to know that I was closer to my teacher than any of them could ever hope to get.

As soon as I got in the door, Mr. Tracknester grabbed my face, slammed me against the wall and stuck his tongue down my throat. As I kissed him back I could feel his cock straining against his trousers and my dick started to swell in response.

We kept grinding our bodies against each other as his hands started to cup my ass. When he let go for a minute I dropped to my knees and yanked his zipper down as fast as I could.

His dick sprang out of his pants and I rushed to move it into my lips. No matter how many times I performed this act, I could not help but feel a thrill from my head to my toes whenever I sucked his man meat.

As I blew him, I unzipped my own fly and started jerking myself off. There was nothing that got me hotter than the smell of a hard dick and the knowledge that I was pleasing my man.

I was in heaven.

I grabbed his ass to pull his cock deeper down my throat. Finally I felt the little spasms that told me that my man was reaching the ultimate pleasure. In seconds I felt the first warm, salty bursts of semen start to jet down my throat.

My job was done. I had pleased my man. I looked up to see the joy of orgasm spread across his withered face.

This was my chance. I had to broker the subject while he was in a state of bliss.

Nervously, I told Professor Tracknester my problem.

"Boy, I can help you out," he said. "But there is no free ride. Are you ready to work for your money?"

"Yes, sir," I replied. I was somewhat embarrassed, but I always got hard when I heard that tone in his voice.

"There are a lot of boys who need money," Professor Tracknester said. "I'm not just going to give you cash. But I can show you a way to make more money than you ever thought possible."

"What, sir?"

Professor Tracknester then went on to tell me that he ran a company that, for a price, hooked up boys like me with older men - some of whom were married. Their wives thought they were straight!

"I'm not a whore," I screamed.

"Not yet, boy," Professor Tracknester said. "But if you want to stay at school, you will be."

His next comments stunned me. He told me that just by getting on my knees and servicing these men I could make hundreds of dollars a night. My tuition would be paid; I'd have money in my pocket. I'd get to have sex every night of the week.

Maybe being a whore wasn't that bad after all.

My dick started to grow again as I thought of dozens of strange older dicks penetrating my young body. I imagined myself bathed in cum as the grey haired men pulled out of my ass and shot their glorious loads over my back and chest.

If I was going to be a prostitute I wanted to be a good one and I wanted to be highly paid. I would make sure that I sent them back to their little wives, drained an unable to get it up for weeks afterwards.

There would be a lot less tuna in their lives once I go through with them!

The good news was that I would be paid in cash by the men every night. The bad news was that I would have to give about a third of my money to Mr. Tracknester for setting the situation up. Still, two thirds of $600 an hour was a lot more than I would have made flipping burgers or working in the library!

Professor Tracknester then went into his desk and handed me a pager. He told me to make sure I kept it on my at all times and to make sure I was ready, willing and eager when he needed me.

I clipped the pager onto my belt and leaned in to give him a deep kiss. While I felt my tongue penetrate his mouth, I let my hand descend once again to his groin. I found his cock and started running my hand up and down the shaft one more time.

It felt so good to have his dick in my hand. I started squeezing it at the end of ever stroke and felt it get harder and harder. I kept pulling him as close to my body as I could and still have enough room to give him a hand job.

I loved the feel of his dick in my hand - and the power I felt over him as I brought him to higher and higher levels of sexual excitement.

"God boy, you are good," he moaned as jets of jizz started erupting out of his cock. I didn't say a word but just coyly walked out his office door, knowing I had left a well satisfied man in my wake.

That night I started to get very nervous. What would I wear on my first "date?" What would he be like? What would he want? Would I be experienced enough to satisfy him? Was I really worth $600 an hour.

Only time will tell. I felt like a girl about to go out on her first date. Unfortunately the pager did not go off that first night. So I was left to quietly jerk off in my bed - hoping my roommate would not hear what I was doing. I did not want him to jump me and leave my asshole too sore to do my dirty work when Mr. Tracknester needed my services.

The next day went by in a haze. I tried to pay attention to my classes - but I was too full of wonder and anticipation to really concentrate. My dick was constantly throbbing as I wondered what my first trick would be like.

I knew that once I took money for the first time that I would be crossing a line. I knew that I would always know that I had been a whore.

Yet, the more I thought about it, the more exciting the idea of servicing a man for money became. They would think they were taking advantage of me. The truth was - I would be taking their money for something I would do for them anyway if they just caught me in the park or at a glory hole.

It was about 8 p.m. that night when my pager finally went off. I called the number back and Professor Tracknester picked up on the first ring.

"The Wilshire Hotel. Room 1025. 10 p.m.," he said. "Get the money up front."

The line suddenly went dead. This was the moment of truth. I had my orders. I could either go to the hotel and become a whore, or I could stay home and keep my honor - but be forced to leave the school at the end of the semester.

There was really no choice in the matter. I guess I finally understood why they call giving head a "job."

I got into the shower around 9 and made sure my body was as clean as could be. When I got out I went and picked up my bottle of lube. I rubbed it into my ass - wanting to make sure that I was ready to make the man's fantasies come true - and that my hole would be slick enough to accept any pole that needed to enter it.

After I was done I went to my dresser and selected the tightest pair of pants I could find. I think picked out a t-shirt that I knew hugged my pecs and showed off my chest to the best advantage possible.

I wanted to be every man's fantasy. I wanted to be worth every dime he spent on me so that I would be worth coming back to again and again and again.

The hotel was only about a mile from campus, so rather than take a cab I decided to walk. I had tons of nervous energy that I needed to burn off. I wanted to be as relaxed as possible for my date.

In some ways it actually started to feel romantic. Is this how whores are supposed to feel, I thought. The closer I got to the hotel the harder my dick got.

When I got to the lobby it was a few minutes before 10 and I did not want to show up too early. So I went to the hotel bar and ordered a coke. Thank god they did not ask me for my ID or for a room key.

The Wilshire was beautiful. I had never been in a hotel that was so opulent before. From the chandelier in the lobby to the fine leather seats in the bar, I felt like I was entering a new world.

Finally, 10 p.m. arrived and I made my way to the elevator so I could ride up to the 10th floor.

I guess I don't need to tell you that I was shaking inside, even though my level of sexual excitement was reaching new levels that I had never known possible.

It seemed that being an escort was something that agreed with me.

When I got to the floor I followed the arrows until I found the room. I knocked and the door opened seconds later.

In front of me stood a hairy man - wearing nothing but a white bathrobe. He motioned for me to come into the room. It was a beautiful suite and on the dresser was an open bottle of champagne.

"Do you want a drink", the grey haired man asked.

"Yes, please."

I wanted to ask him his name - yet I did not know if I should. I had no idea what came next as I accepted the glass from his strong masculine hand.

"You want the offering now," he asked?

Offering? What's that I thought?

"Sure," I replied, since I could think of nothing else to say.

That's when the man went into his wallet and pealed off 12 one hundred dollar bills and put them on the nightstand next to my drink. I understood now what he meant, and I reached over to put the cash into my pocket.

I felt a sexual jolt of electricity pass through my body as I took the money. I knew that as soon as I accepted it there was no turning back. I had reached the point of no return.

My new life was about to start - and I liked it.

I moved over to my client and looked deeply into his eyes. I put my hand on his shoulder and decided this was the time to let him make the next move.

Within seconds he grabbed my neck and pushed me to the ground. He let his towel drop and his dick was in my face. His pubic hair had flecks of grey in it - which I had never seen before. Yet, his age and the fact that he was a client did not really matter at that point.

All that mattered was that he was a man and I needed to find a way to satisfy him. I felt that I was up to the challenge.

I used my mouth to wet his dick and started moving my hand up and down.

"Yes!" he screamed. "Do you bareback?"

God, he wanted to fuck me. I looked up at him and started taking my clothes off. That's when I noticed the gold wedding band on his hand. Knowing that he had a wife at home excited me. He could have her pussy for free; instead he was paying to have my ass.

As soon as I was naked I got on my hands and knees on the bed. That's when he used one hand to spread my cheeks and a finger started easing into my ass.

I relaxed my sphincter and let him finger fuck me as shivers of delight moved through my body.

In no time at all I felt his finger replaced by something larger and much more welcome - his bare cock.

The man mounted me and I moved to accept every inch of him. Soon he was buried deep inside of me with his balls resting against my ass.

"Fuck, yeah," he said. "You are one tight bitch!"

The man then bit down on my neck and I felt the rush of cum shoot out of his cock and into my ass. My own orgasm followed minutes later.

He collapsed on top of me and I held him in my arms.

I had found my way in the world.

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