F(r)at Party: Pierre

I’m not a fan of frat parties, but Liz practically begged me. I don’t see the point of consorting with a bunch of drunk straight men. They’re only good for the eye candy. Still, Liz was in a dry spell and needed a wingman, so I conceded per usual.

I started getting ready after dinner and immediately regretted all the mac n cheese I had eaten. Since I started college seven months ago I’d put on the inevitable freshman fifteen. I wasn’t fat or anything, but my skinny jeans were getting hard to squeeze into and a mountain of mac n cheese certainly wasn’t helping. I personally fancied thicker men, but wasn’t trying to become one myself. I would just have to get drunk enough to forget about the tightness of my pants. Besides, at the very least, my ass was poppin’ with the extra weight.

I grabbed a bottle of vodka and walked to Liz’s apartment to pregame. Her roommates were gone for the night which meant we could blast vintage Britney Spears and be as obnoxious as we pleased. And we did exactly that. We had a strong buzz by the time night fell and we made our way to the frat house.

The party was already in full effect when we arrived. Drunk bros and hoes were dancing on furniture, making out, and doing ridiculous stunts for the gram. Within the first twenty minutes Liz and I had downed too many jello shots and had shotgunned a beer. I grabbed some jungle juice and returned to find Liz flirting with some guy so I wandered off to explore the grounds.

My stomach was churning from all the substances, but I kept on drinking. In the distance I noticed Peter, the most overtly gay guy at the party. Peter had a cute face but was too much of a bottom for my taste. I wanted a beefier man. Someone with broad shoulders and a defined physique that gave way to a bit of a paunch. There was something wildly masculine about a hairy dude who was strong enough to toss you around, but not so self-conscious as to have a perfect six pack. I mean, who could complain about having more to love?

I made awkward eye contact with Peter and looked away. I didn’t want to interact with him. Nervously, I began walking the opposite direction and ran into the biggest straight crush of my life: Greg Anderson. Greg was a former football star in highschool, now studying business in between keggers and the Chinese buffet. He was my ideal man. Stocky, with a chiseled jaw and dense scruff, his chest hair curled up over his shirt and connected with his facial hair.

The former jock had easily gained twenty pounds since he started school. His T-shirts from college put every curve and jiggle on display. Tonight he was squeezed into a pair of bootcuts jeans, but most days he wore grey sweatpants that put his luscious ass and dangling cock on full display. Of course, Greg was drunkenly chasing after Tiffany, a brunette bimbo studying fashion design.

I spotted Liz by the punch bowl and headed towards her but was intercepted by Andrei, a Russian immigrant who always seemed either awkward or murderous. Andrei was stocky, definitely straight, and odd, so I generally tried to ignore him. Unfortunately, this time I was forced into conversation. He asked how my night was going and attempted small talk. I didn’t know why he was talking to me and as the alcohol churned in my stomach I became increasingly desperate to exit the situation. When he started talking about the weather in his clunky accent I knew it was time to leave. Thankfully, Liz came into view again so I abruptly charged after her.

We sloppily embraced and Liz told me all about the guy she was making out with and wanted to fuck. His name was Charles, he was new in town, and she could just tell he had a huge dick. I think she caught a glint of melancholy in my eye, intuiting that I too wanted some action at this godforsaken party.

“Why don’t you talk to Peter, he looks lonely,” she said.

“I don’t want Peter, I want Greg.”

“Greg is straight honey, you have to let that go. You need to set your sights on someone more attainable. And speak of the devil,” Liz pushed me toward Peter, who was approaching with two jello shots, before scuttling off.

I said hello and accepted his jello shot. Once again I was trapped in awkward small talk with someone I wasn’t interested in. I did give it a shot, however. I flirted. I smiled. I complimented his shirt and took a step closer so that he could feel my breath on his cheek. I even leaned in for a kiss only to be greeted with a wet sloppy smooch and wandering tongue down my throat. With my hand on his waist I felt an unexpected love handle and was surprised that the twink had concealed his chunkiness so well. Even still, the kiss was nightmarish. As kindly as possible I ended the interaction and awkwardly said: “I have to go to the bathroom, like right now, see ya around.”

I rushed back to Liz and told her the whole story. She laughed and suggested we smoke a joint inside. Tucked away in someone’s bedroom, Liz sparked the joint just as there was a knock at the door. Liz opened up and it was Andrei. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but as he was silhouetted in the doorway I noticed for the first time that Andrei was quite attractive. His chiseled face was statuesque in a way, supported by broad shoulders and a narrow waist.

“Wanna join?” I asked

Andrei walked in and sat on the ground with us, leaving the door open. As he bent over I noticed a roll of belly fat curl up over his jeans. Perhaps he wasn’t as chiseled as I thought- his face certainly gave no hint to the paunch he was sporting. Someone passed by outside the door and Liz yelped. It was Charles. She apologized and ran after him, leaving Andrei and I alone in the room.

“How’s your night?” I said, passing him the joint.

“This party is lame,” he said glumly. “It’s… all these people, so basic and straight.”

I was confused and endeared. I felt exactly the same way, but what did he mean by straight? Straight as in heterosexual or straight as in hum drum? I struggled to say: “Yeah, I uh… it’s pretty lame. Uh, what do you mean by straight?”

“You know, like straight people. Not gay like us,” he took a long toke and passed the joint back.

I chuckled, “I actually thought you were straight…”

Andrei laughed heartily before shooting me a sexy grin. His eyes pierced through me and suddenly the air was electric with sexual tension. Without a word we leaned in to kiss and I dropped the weed on the ground. He cupped his hand on my lower back and with one swift move pulled me in closer. He was stronger than I thought. I slipped my hand under his shirt and gripped the soft puffiness of his torso as we began to make out. His hand wandered from my lower back to my ass which he squeezed while softly biting my lip.

The door, which had been open just a crack, suddenly swung open and someone stumbled inside. Shocked, Andrei and I recoiled and turned around to see a shirtless Greg in all his beefy glory, staring at us curiously. My mind was doing somersaults trying to ascertain what was happening when I looked down to see that he was only wearing underwear- blue boxer briefs that dug in on his thighs- and sporting a semi. I was speechless and couldn’t stop staring at the delicious sight before me.

“Don’t stop,” Greg said cautiously. “Keep doing what you were doing.”

He closed the door softly and stepped forward to sit on the bed next to us. A moment of awkward silence prevailed as Andrei and I contemplated the likelihood this was a prank that would end with our asses getting beat.

“Go on, I wanna watch,” Greg prodded.

We gave in to temptation and locked lips once more. We picked up right where we left off and things got steamy. Andrei crawled on top of me and began kissing my neck and licking my ears as I grinded my crotch into him. Slowly, Andrei worked his way down to my stomach and began unbuttoning my pants. Greg let out a soft moan and I looked over to discover him stroking his girthy uncut cock. The room was getting warm and the only window was steaming up.

Andrei sucked my cock for a minute or two while the sound of Greg’s fapping intensified. He then hoisted my legs into the air and began licking my ass. At the sight of this Greg let out a gruff “oh fuck.” I pleasured myself while Andrei went to town on my hole, watching Greg jerk off to the sight of us. I was impressed by the size of Greg’s dick and fantasized about it stretching my hole out.

The more I stared, the more Greg was turned on and he began showing off. His pace quickened causing his tree trunk thighs to jiggle beneath his fatty midsection. Even with the extra pudge piling up around his cock and balls he still looked well endowed. I noticed his nipples were rock hard beneath a swath of chest hair and I came dangerously close to orgasming.

Andrei relented and took off his jeans causing his cock to thwack against his puffy belly. He was even bigger than Greg and I was truly shocked, if not intimidated. Andrei played with his cock while dropping his lips onto Greg, who at this point could only verbalize “oh fuck” repeatedly. With my hole and Greg’s cock dripping with saliva, Andrei turned me onto my knees and led Greg by the prick into my ass. I couldn’t believe that my “straight” crush was inside of me, and Greg seemed to be in disbelief about how turned on he was by gay sex. He kept muttering, “shit your ass” and “fucking fuck.”

The ten minutes that followed were an ecstatic blur. I vaguely remember being face fucked by Andrei while Greg rode my ass. My face was mashed into Andrei's underbelly while Greg’s warm pudgy stomach rested on my back when he would bend forward while gripping my plump rump. The rest was sheer pleasure and I began to see stars. Greg lost his nut before the rest of us, wrapping me in a sweaty bear hug that smelled of alcohol and men’s deodorant. His belly mashed into my lower back and my ass clapped while he filled me up with his jizz. He collapsed onto the bed and promptly fell asleep. Andrei licked up his come before sticking his own cock inside of me. My vision went white and before I knew it we were both moaning in orgasm.