Baumgartner Generations: Henry, page 4
part #5 of The Baumgartners Series
“Uh-oh.” Dean rolled his eyes. “On the rebound?”
“I think she just needs to go out and have some fun, you know?”
“There’s a new horror flick playing at the Goodrich,” Henry offered. “Let Me In. A vampire movie. A real one.”
“As long as they don’t sparkle, I’m there,” Libby insisted, just when Henry thought his estimation of the girl couldn’t have improved.
“Cool! So what’s this girl’s name?” Dean asked. “My man Henry wants to know who he’s going out with, am I right?”
“Um…” Libby froze, her gaze shifting between the two of them. She felt as trapped as he did, Henry realized. What were they supposed to do now? Libby’s mouth turned down in resignation as she gave Dean what he wanted. “Elaine.”
“Oh that’s right.” Dean leaned forward, fingers tented between his knees. “You room with Elaine Litman, don’t you?” He looked at his roommate. “She’s hot, dude. Seriously. She’s got great—” He stopped when Libby gave him a sharp look. “A great personality,” he finished.
“Well, listen, it’s late…” Libby stood stiffly, reaching over Henry for her coat and he froze when the soft swell of her sweatered breast brushed his arm.
“You’re not going?” Dean frowned, standing too.
“I’ve got to get up early tomorrow.” Libby smiled a thank-you when Henry handed over her mittens, scarf and hat. “Great game, Dean.”
“Thanks.” He reached for his coat. “I’ll just walk you back to your dorm.”
“No, that’s okay.” Libby pulled on her hat and mittens. “I have to stop by the library to pick up something anyway. I’ll take the bus. I’ll be fine.”
“When do you want to go to the movies?” Henry asked, still sitting on his bed, too aware of the cooling space next to him where her warm body had been. He figured he might as well take advantage of every chance he could get to see her, even if he was playing second fiddle to his roommate.
She visibly brightened, wrapping her scarf around her neck. “How about next Friday?”
“I’ll call you.” Dean opened the door for her and Henry couldn’t help smiling when Libby took the opportunity to pull her scarf up to cover her mouth when Dean leaned in to try and kiss her goodbye.
* * * *
“All my clothes?” Henry frowned over at Dean, who was already nearly stripped down to his skivvies.
There were maybe thirty of the pledges left now at the end of Greek Week. Those were the only ones who had managed to stick it out to the end, and while Henry was proud he was one of them, he also knew it was mostly because Dean was his roommate. He never would have made it through some of the stuff they’d been forced to do that week without him. He certainly would never have received an invitation otherwise.
“Trust me.”
How many times had Dean said that to him this week? But still, he went along. It was hard to say “no” to Dean Mosher, and not only was it difficult, but you got the feeling it just wasn’t a good idea.
Henry pulled his t-shirt off, shivering. The room was cold. Did they even have the heat on? The other guys were stripping too. They’d gotten used to taking orders this week, he supposed. They’d pretty much done everything that was asked of them, from the simplest things, like learning the history and traditions of the organization and then passing tests (oral exams, mostly, rousted out of bed at two in the morning and answering questions while blindfolded and tied to chairs) to the campus-wide scavenger hunt, where they had to find everything from a fifth of Jack Daniels to used condoms.
It hadn’t been as bad as Henry thought it would be, actually, but that probably had something to do with being Dean’s roommate. He wasn’t one of the pledges who’d had to go to class wearing pink hair bows or diapers. The scariest thing he’d done all week, so far anyway, had been placing a mandatory hundred-dollar bet on an NFL game they had watched together as a group. Thankfully, he’d picked the right team and won. Dean hadn’t been so lucky.
“All right, brothers.” The door behind them opened and Henry slipped his boxers quickly off, wanting to be in compliance before the older members saw him.
The pledges all took an involuntarily step back when the door swung open, whether out of respect or fear, it was hard to tell. The older fraternity members were intimidating, but as far as Henry knew, even in spite of Libby’s warnings, no one had been hurt during Greek Week. They hadn’t even done any forced drinking games, which Henry had fully expected—Dean said they weren’t allowed to anymore. Henry had remembered Libby’s article and wondered if there was a connection between the two.
“Let’s go, gentlemen!” Marcus was the head of the fraternity and another football player—defensive tackle, built like the Titanic. Henry fell in line behind Dean as they all filed out of the room naked, following the enormous back and completely shaved head of their fearless leader. He had an earring in each ear, and Dean secretly called him “Mr. Clean.”
The room they had been in was small, but this one was even smaller. There were two rows of chairs, facing one another, and a TV and a DVD player on a tall cart at the end. Behind each chair was one of their older soon-to-be fraternity brothers. Henry hesitated, seeing the setup over Dean’s shoulder, but there really wasn’t much of a choice as they were directed into the room.
Dean was pushed to the left and Henry to the right, so they ended up in chairs directly across from one another. The folding chairs were plastic, not metal, but they were still incredibly cold and Henry’s balls felt like they were shriveled grapes. At least they were spaced far enough apart that he wasn’t brushing up against the next to him.
“You’ve made it through Hell Week,” Marcus announced.
“Almost,” Henry heard the fraternity brother behind him murmur and then chuckle.
“After Hell Week, you all deserve a reward, don’t you think?”
A murmur went up among the pledges in agreement. Henry glanced over at Dean, eyebrow raised. Were they kidding?
“The kind of brotherhood you are about to enter can’t be explained. It can only be experienced.” Marcus picked up the remote control and pointed it at the television. Henry watched it come to life, but there was no picture on it yet, just a blue screen. He couldn’t imagine what they were going to show them—some video about the history of the frat? Why in the hell did they have to be naked for that?
Marcus was still talking, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard already this week. “You should always be able to trust your frat brother. You should be able to do anything for each other.”
“Or next to each other.” The guy behind him again. Henry felt a hand on his bare shoulder. What in the hell did they have planned? Henry’s sense of foreboding grew as the guy next to him passed him a bowl and whispered, “Take one.” They were full of condoms.
No fucking way, he thought, taking one anyway and passing on the message and the bowl to the pledge next to him. Dean had a condom in his hand and he was trying to suppress a smile, but the other guys looked just as scared as Henry felt. Trust me. That’s what Dean had said. But did Henry really trust his roommate? He’d made a bee-line for the girl Henry liked, and had been close-mouthed all week about the fraternity rituals, although admittedly, Henry had gotten off pretty easy because of Dean. At least so far. Dean kept telling him he was a pledge, too—which was true. But he also obviously had inside information he wasn’t willing to share.
“You’re gonna want to buckle up for safety, boys.” Marcus turned on the DVD and Henry stared as two women appeared—two very naked, very sexy, very lesbian women. They were crawling all over each other, kissing and touching. The blonde wasn’t his type—too busty and fake for his tastes. But the redhead? Oh Jesus, she looked like Libby with all that hair! Her breasts were perfect, a pert handful of flesh, her nipples puffy and pink. And her pussy?
His dick was getting hard. Henry covered his crotch, condom still in hand, trying to keep his boy down, but the girl was so much like Libby, and when the blonde knelt between the redhead’s legs, parting her pussy lips covered in curly red fuzz, the camera zooming in for a close-up, it was a lost cause. Even though he was sitting naked in the middle of a group of guys, his cock wouldn’t obey his “down” command.
“We’re all going to play a game.”
Henry looked reluctantly away from the screen to see that most of his pledge brothers were having the same problem with their dicks. Dean wasn’t even hiding his—and Henry was surprised to find his cock was rather small in stature, maybe six inches—but instead had his hand wrapped around it, stroking idly as he peered up at the screen where the women were rubbing their tits together now and moaning loudly.
Marcus picked up a black bag off the floor, taking out a bottle of KY gel. No way, Henry thought again. Was this going to be some sort of circle jerk? He could only hope—because he didn’t have any sexual inclination toward guys, and there was no way he was going to consent to anything that involved one of his pledge brothers touching his cock. Or doing anything else to him, for that matter.
“Here we go.” Marcus handed a bottle of KY to the first two pledges and they stared across the aisle at each other, eyes wide. He knew both of them, had hung out in Dean’s room with Uri, a big, swarthy Russian guy with a thick accent, and Bel was the skinny geek from the dorm room right next door to them. In spite of the moaning and soft cries of pleasure coming from the television, Henry had found that his cock had finally obeyed his “down” command. Everyone was too anxious to have a hard-on now. Well, almost everyone. Dean was still hard, cock firmly in hand.
“Fasten your seatbelts.” Marcus’s teeth flashed brightly white. “Buckle up, buttercups.” He reached back into the bag. Both guys sat frozen, a condom in one hand, KY in the other. Henry didn’t understand until Marcus pulled two more objects out of the bag. Flashlights? Huh? Were they going to have a masturbation contest in the dark?
“Just in case you thought this was gonna be easy.” Marcus took the end off of the flashlight, but where there should have been a light was…
“What the hell?” The guy on Henry’s right—he couldn’t remember his name. Peter or Phil or…?
“It’s a Fleshlight,” the guy on Henry’s left said. Henry knew his name—Cody. They’d been sitting next to each other during the game Henry and the rest of the pledges had been forced to bet on. Unfortunately Cody, like Dean, had chosen the other team.
“A what?” Henry whispered, thinking he’d mispronounced the word flashlight, but what Marcus was holding in his hand didn’t look like any flashlight he’d ever seen, and then one of the older frat brothers answered the question for all of them because he’d taken out the DVD of the two lesbian women and put in another, more informative one.
“Holy fuck.” That was Phil or Pete or…Pat. His name was Pat, Henry remembered as they all stared at the screen. There was a nearly-nude brunette up there, reclining, legs spread, and she holding the flashlight-looking thing in her hand. With her other hand, she touched the pink flesh-like material, her fingers rubbing oil into the surface, and Henry finally understood, as the scene changed and the woman was on her knees in front of a very well-hung guy, licking his balls and sliding the flashlight—er, Fleshlight—down onto his cock.
“Ohhhhh,” the guy on-screen moaned. “It feels just like the real thing!”
Henry’s dick jumped to life again as he watched the guy decide to compare his new toy with the real thing, putting the brunette on the bed and the Fleshlight just above her pussy. Now it was like he had two cunts to fuck, one real, one synthetic. Henry stared, fascinated, watching the flesh part, wondering what it would feel like, as the brunette fingered first her own pussy and then the fake one.
A collective gasp went up when the guy stuck his cock into the brunette, beginning to fuck her. Then he switched, sliding his dick into the sex toy, fucking it just as hard. Back and forth it went. The whole room gave a sound of disappointment when Marcus turned off the DVD.
“Get the idea?”
They all got it. There were thirty-two cocks straight up and at-attention in the room. And those, Henry figured, were just the ones they could see. The older frat brothers, standing behind their chairs, were sure to be hard, too. He was just glad this wasn’t going to be some sort of homoerotic test. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay. He just wasn’t, that’s all.
“You two first.” Marcus gestured to the guys in chairs closest to the television. The DVD was being changed again, back to the lesbians. On the screen, the redhead was on the bed, her pussy spread for the blonde’s eager tongue. And Henry thought his cock couldn’t get any harder. Great. At this rate, he’d last about two seconds in that pussy-sleeve before it was all humiliatingly over. But according to the way this game worked, wouldn’t that make him the winner?
Well, at least he understood the condoms now.
The first pair up—so to speak, Henry thought, concealing a smile—was Uri the Russian and Bel. Henry watched his geeky dorm mate struggle to open the condom, tearing it with his teeth, using trembling hands in an attempt to roll it on. Uri was in Henry’s row so it was harder to see him, but he looked down the line to find the Russian already had his condom in place, the KY open and dripping down onto his fat dick. He was more than ready to go.
“The first one to come wins,” Marcus explained. “The brother behind you will be the one to make the call. The first guy to pull his cock out and show us the used condom wins that round.”
“You’ll be going head to head,” Marcus went on. So to speak, Henry thought again, fighting the urge to snicker. He could hear guys whispering back and forth to each other, some of them laughing, nervous, anxious. Excited. “And once we’ve eliminated half of you in the first round, we’ll line up for a second.”
The group collectively murmured in protest. They were expected to go again, so soon after they’d climaxed once? Henry was beginning to understand how this “competition” was going to work.
“There are thirty-two of you.” Marcus handed over one of the Fleshlights to Bel, the other to Uri. “After the first round, we’ll have sixteen. Then eight. Then two.”
“The winner will get that entire box of porn.” Marcus pointed to a cardboard box lined with DVD cases. There had to be hundreds of DVDs in it! “And a Fleshlight.”
The pledges actually cheered.
Then Marcus announced, “The second runner-up will get the other Fleshlight.”
Henry focused on Dean. He was grinning, the head of his cock practically purple as he squeezed it. No wonder he’d been stroking himself this whole time, Henry realized. They were going to go head-to-head, and Dean had a huge competitive streak.
“On your mark.” Marcus gestured to the first pair of guys. “Get set.” Oh, they were set all right. “Go!”
Henry had a feeling Bel was going to win this one. This first round would be easy. It was the second, third and—gulp—fourth rounds that were gonna be tough.
Uri groaned as he shoved the sex toy down on his cock. He acted with practiced ease, eyes half-closed, watching the women on the television screen. They were in a sixty-nine position now, the camera focused on the redhead’s lapping pink tongue, the blonde’s pussy juices smeared all over her cheeks. Henry hoped this DVD was still on when it got to be his turn. All he had to do was see the redhead once with his cock inside that thing and he’d come.
Hell, I might come before I even get into it, he thought, flushing.
“Oh fuck!” Bel cried out as he slid his condom-covered dick into the sleeve, his hand wrapped tight around the Fleshlight’s handle. “Oh my fucking god, it’s sooo tight!”
Across from him, Uri grunted and thrust, but it was already over for Bel. He pulled his lubed-up cock out, the condom end full of his cum, his face twisted in pleasure, legs splayed, his dick still pulsing with his orgasm.
Everyone whooped and crowed, and Uri let out a groan as he came, too, his thigh muscles straining with the effort. He had his condom off and tied and held up in a flash, but it was too late. Bel had already peeled his off.
“The winner!” The fraternity brother behind Bel slapped him on the shoulder.
“Gimme that thing!” The guy next to Bel already had his condom rolled on. Henry didn’t know that guy well at all—he was a scrawny-looking kid with frizzy red hair, his cock jutting up and to the left.
It was on to the next pair. They were going to have to do this how many times? Henry’s cock and balls were aching for release already, and next to him, Pat’s breath was coming fast as he jerked himself off, his eyes moving from the frat guys playing with the sex toys to the women licking each other on the screen.
May not even make it through the first round, Henry mused, and then Pat’s cock exploded. He wasn’t wearing his condom yet and cum spurted like a geyser over his pumping fist as he groaned softly and bucked up in his chair.
“Whoops!” The frat brother standing behind Pat’s chair laughed. “We’ve got a disqualification!”
“Sorry, dude, you’re out!” Marcus announced.
Henry gulped as Pat stood, grinning sheepishly, cum still dripping down his thigh as he wobbled toward the door, following Uri. Henry’s balls felt tight, no longer cold against the surface of the chair, but contracted and practically boiling. Still, he didn’t want to go off too soon. He really wanted to try that thing. The next pair was already at it, the redhead across the way pumping his freckled fist, his hand and the toy a blur, but in Henry’s row it was clearly already over from the sound of the moaning and groaning at the end of the line.
He’d only had the pleasure of experiencing the inside of a real pussy once, last summer. It was just a brief thing, but it had been beyond description. His hand, even a girl’s mouth, was nothing in comparison. He was probably no more obsessed than any other guy out there, he supposed, but although he hadn’t had the opportunity before or since, he couldn’t get the memory out of his mind of the slick, velvet feel of her pussy wrapped around his cock no matter what he did.
