The Fraternity Man

Shane is desperate to get into a hot frat party, and that means serving his pledgemaster, even if he’s got to bend over and take whatever he has to dole out! Can Shane get through his hazing?

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Shane Gibbons had never been more disappointed than when he found out the party was strictly for members in good standing of Kappa Kappa Pi. He was still only a pledge, which meant he wasn’t going to be allowed in. He and the other pledges would have to spend their Saturday night cleaning the Omega Omicron Tau house — cleaning the house was part of the payment to get the Omega girls to show up at the party. The Omega girls had to come because otherwise, no one else would come either.
It was funny — he had thought fraternity life was silly when he first came to GHU, but now it seemed essential. He joined the frat only because he felt lonely his first few weeks at college. He became paralyzed with fear that he’d never make any friends.
Fraternity. He corrected his own thoughts. As a pledge, if he ever abbreviated it frat out-loud, the punishment would be severe. He wasn’t going to be a frat boy but a fraternity man.
Now he was reliant on the organization to give him a social life. Without the his fraternal brothers, he’d never be invited to any parties. Brenda Fallow was going to be at that party on Saturday, and Shane was sure she liked him. She was always looking at him in the English class they shared. She stared at him, then blushed and looked away when he looked back. They had barely exchanged ten words in the entire time he had known her, but he intended to invite her to the party. If he was there with her, he felt confident he’d get to third base at least.
So he was desperate to be allowed in. It’d be humiliating to show up with Brenda and get turned away at the door of his own fraternity. So when Chad — the pledgemaster for the semester — said that they were considering allowing a few of the pledges in, Shane said he’d do anything.
“Come on, Chad. You don’t understand, this is the most beautiful girl on campus, and she likes me! She really does-“
“She does not, freshie!”
“She does too!” Shane squealed. He didn’t want to sound like a desperate little boy with a crush on a girl. “I mean… She looks at me like…-“
The upperclassmen all laughed, and Shane looked down at his feet. It seemed likely that Chad would refuse to give him an invitation, but Shane couldn’t just give up. He had been dreaming about spending the night with Brenda since the first day of classes, when they had partnered up to read a Phyllis Wheatley poem and make a presentation about it.
“Come on, Chad…” Shane said. He knew he couldn’t whine — Kappa Kappa Pi had special punishments for pledges who whined — so his mind raced as he tried to come up with something to offer in exchange for an invitation. “I’ll do anything.” He blushed as soon as he said it. He had meant he’d do anything like cleaning the house or doing Chad’s laundry, but judging from the sarcastic oohs and aahs of the other upperclassmen, they interpreted it as an offer to do something gross. It was gross, Shane thought, they had dirty minds, that’s what Shane’s mother would have said. She didn’t like what she called toilet humor.
“Anything?” Chad asked with a smirk. He loved playing pranks, especially making pledges dirty. He had cracked raw eggs on Shane’s face, farted on him, and made him lick the sweat out of his armpit. Chad laughed so hard when he made a freshman gag that his face turned red. Once he had nearly cried from laughing so hard because of another freshman’s gagging at the feel of a pubic hair in the back of his throat.
Despite their teasing, Shane did not feel like an outcast. The one benefit to frat life — and it was a big one — was that he always had friends. The hazing and the relentless teasing and the chores and the humiliations of Pledge Week, all of that was just an appetizer designed to whet the pledges’s appetite for brotherhood. That had seemed silly when Shane got started in Kappa Kappa Pi. He thought he’d never feel like a real part of this organization
But somehow Shane had indeed come to feel like he was close to the men in his frat. Even the ones he barely knew like Kyle and Fringe, he felt he knew them so well because they shared the fraternity life. They had gone through the same struggles. They had been hazed the same way back when they were freshmen; they had gotten through it. They had made lifelong friends with their pledgemaster. Shane was sure he would feel the same when he got through all of this struggle.
“Make him jerk you off, Chad!”
When someone said that, they guffawed as though it wasn’t a serious suggestion, but Shane blushed. He could tell from the look in Chad’s eyes that it was a more serious suggestion than the others thought.
Chad wrinkled his nose. “Good idea! Pledge, I’ll give you an invite to the party if you jerk me off,” Chad said, his face turning red as he laughed harder and harder. The other upperclassmen howled like they had never heard anything so funny.
The hazing was optional, so Shane could have backed out. One of his frat brothers was Jules Tremor, a Jehovah’s Witness who refused to participate in any hazing, oath-taking, holiday celebrations or drug/alcohol use — he was just as much a part of the frat as anyone else, and Shane felt like he was a brother. But Jules didn’t get invited to all the parties, and he was the only senior in Kappa Kappa Pi who was a virgin.
Shane did not intend to be the new Jules.
Shane dropped to his knees. “Yes, sir, Pledgemaster-sir.” He thought — and hoped — that if he just took Chad’s dick out and made it look like he was going to do it, Chad would tell him not to. That’s exactly what Chad had done to another pledge last week.
“Is he really gonna do it?!”
“That is some old-school hazing!”
“Get him Chad! Make him do it! Swallow his cum!”
He had to suppress a gag when he touched Chad’s cock to take it out of his pants. It was big and springy, like a fleshy slab of uncooked sausage. It was thick, veiny, warmer than Shane thought it should be. He had known it was big because Chad whipped it out often — in the group showers he frequently made everyone sit through — but Shane had never realized how big it really was. He blushed.
Shane had seen Chad’s cock on numerous occasions because Chad made them all shower together. Shane had always assumed he did that because he wanted everyone to realize he had the biggest cock in the frat, but Chad justified it by saying it increased camaraderie, which Shane had to admit was true. He had felt like an outsider among the seniors until the night they had gotten drunk together, crammed into such a tight space that Shane’s thigh pressed up against Deshonte Willoughby’s, making Shane nervous until he was drunk enough not to care. Then he felt so close to Deshonte it was like they had been friends since childhood.
The fraternity house had three bathrooms, but only two with showers and only one with a large group shower — considering that there were more than twenty people living here, they had to use the group shower for most everything. They could have taken turns and rarely been in the shower at the same time as anyone else, but Chad wouldn’t allow that. “Real men aren’t squeamish about seeing other real men. We can bond by showering together, increasing the ties that bind us, encourage us to celebrate our own masculinity and our brotherhood.” It all seemed like a bunch of nonsense to Shane, an excuse to show off Chad’s massive hog — none of the pledgemasters before Chad required mass naked showering — but no one was willing to tell Chad no on this point.
So Shane had seen Chad’s naked cock on many occasions. But there was a big difference between sneaking occasional nervous glances at it when he couldn’t manage to look away any longer, and getting a good look at it up-close in preparation for putting it in his mouth. But he still hoped Chad wouldn’t make him go through with it.
He looked up at Chad, hoping he’d say not to do it. But Chad just smirked.
“Get to it, pledge,” Chad said. He turned his hat backwards and pantomimed throating Shane’s face down. His limp dick and heavy, low-hanging balls slapped against Shane’s chin and lips. He chuckled.
Shane took a deep breath, sighed and opened his mouth.
“He’s doing it! Shane’s slurping on a cock for an invite!”
“Old-school hazing!”
The taste was not really as bad as Shane had thought it was going to be — it tasted a lot like pussy, he thought — but the texture was even worse. It was limp at first, and it hung in his mouth like a dead fish. It was long and thick and fleshy.
But then when Shane’s tongue touched it, it twitched. It stiffened and perked up. This texture, he thought, was much more pleasant. It was solid, like a flexed muscle. It felt strong, vibrant, confident, and the flavor became more savory and satisfyingly sweet.
He didn’t let on that he felt that way though. The upperclassmen groaned and grunted, expressing a mixture of shock, awe, pity and shame, all at once.
“You wanna jerk me off next? You don’t have to stop there.”
But no matter what they said or how they jeered, Shane didn’t feel ashamed. He was doing this for Brenda, the most beautiful girl on the campus. If he and Brenda fell in love and got married, then this story about how he got invited to the college party at which they first hooked up would be sweet — it’d be something he laughed about, it’d be a classic story that he would clean up for most retellings, but close friends would know what really happened. It would be totally worth it.
When the salty and sour flavor of precum hit his tongue, Shane actually began enjoying himself. His frat brothers laughing at him were unpleasant, but they faded into the background. All he focused on was servicing Chad, his fraternity brother, and becoming one with him. All of those annoying brotherhood-sessions in which they sat in the shower and drank, naked, pretending they weren’t sneaking glances at each other’s cocks, all of those moments paled in comparison to this — Shane had never felt so close to another human being.
Chad had jerked upperclassmen off when he was a freshman. Maybe that was why he always brought it up and tried to come up with reasons to make it happen. He wanted to do it again, but with himself on top this time. Shane had forgotten about that story because Chad shared it one night when they were very drunk — that was one of those drunken-naked-in-the-shower-bull-sessions that everyone but Chad hated. The frat brothers who were left at the end of a party had gotten drunk, and for some reason they started to share secrets. Chad said that his pledgemaster had come to him drunk and demanded he mouth him off in the middle of the night during Pledge Week.
Now here was Shane returning the favor. It really wasn’t that bad, Shane reminded himself, even if he did sputter and choke a little when it plunged into the back of his throat. It felt uncomfortable at first, but his body relaxed and accommodated it.
Now he didn’t even want to stop. He didn’t exactly love it, but there was something satisfying about servicing his frat brother — must get out of the habit of saying “frat brother”; would you call your country a “cunt”? Then don’t call your fraternity a “frat” — and knowing that he provided all that intense pleasure wracking Chad’s body.
At first Chad had barely gotten hard at all, like he was too nervous to really feel good about the blowjob. But the more Shane did it, the more pleasurable it was for Chad, and his dick stiffened like a rod ramming down Shane’s throat. Chad’s face went from a mischievous prankster to a seductive lover, cooing and aahing as he fed his cock deeper and deeper. He looked like he didn’t want to let on how pleasurable this was for him, like it was better for his rep if he pretended he only did it to humiliate Shane.
But Shane knew that wasn’t it. He could feel everything going on in Chad’s mind through the throbbing of his cock in Shane’s mouth. He could sense that Chad loved this more than anything, that he was going to find a way to make it happen again and that he was going to move on — he was going to ram Shane’s ass.
That seemed extreme, but Shane knew he would let it happen. Not only was it worth it if it meant he’d get to spend the party with Brenda Fallow rather than scrubbing toilets at a sorority house, but he hoped it might even feel good.
“Damn, Chad, you are hardcore! You had better invite Shane to every party all year for this.”
But of course, Shane wasn’t going to make it obvious that he looked forward to getting a cock in his ass. He was still sensitive to his fraternity brothers making fun of him.
They were only teasing him because it made them nervous to watch Shane handle a cock. They tittered, peering closely at Chad’s massive, veiny shaft sliding down Shane’s throat. Shane was bigger than most girls and he had a neck to match, giving him plenty of room to swallow all of Chad’s manhood. He didn’t even struggle after some initial difficulties.
The other upperclassmen were nervous, Shane suspected, for two main reasons. First of all, they were worried about looking like they enjoyed watching this. They didn’t want to be aroused or even too interested. Secondly, some of them had likely done the same thing when they were freshmen — just less openly — and more than a few wondered if they could get away with shoving their dick down some freshman’s throat as well. The other pledges had crawled away, no doubt scared that they’d be put in the same position as Shane if they stuck around.
Sweaty balls slapping against his chin and that moist cockshaft sliding down his throat combined for an intense and pleasurable experience for Shane. He craved every drop of precum he tasted, and he loved the look of Chad’s athletic muscles writhing above Shane’s head.
Chad’s unserious laughter had given way to aroused moans, which he tried to suppress. He chuckled a little nervously, like was surprised by his well-lubed cock’s expert penetration of Shane’s throat. Chad took a deep breath.
A loud rattling sigh escaped from Chad’s mouth as he pulled his dick out. It throbbed, pulsated, gleaming with moisture. The smell emanating off it was intensely savory and mouth-watering. The judgmental laughter of the other upperclassmen faded into the background.
The sight of Chad’s bare cock again reminded Shane of all those brotherhood-bonding sessions in the shower. Chad’s cock was wet there too, plastered to the skin of his thigh. Now it was longer, harder, thicker, inviting and oh-so-tasty looking. Shane wanted to swallow it again, but he pretended to be nauseated at the sight of it.
“This is all worth it to get into that party,” Shane repeated both to himself and for the benefit of his fraternity brothers.
“Why, man? Why are you so desperate to go?”
“That girl, remember? You really think some chick is worth it!”
“She’s not just some chick! I’m sure she’ll… I think I love her,” Shane said, blushing when they all oohed and aahed like they were watching a romcom. His face turned beet red. “She’ll put out! I’m sure of it, she virtually said she would! I have to get to that party!” He felt bad about saying that because, if he and Brenda fell in love and got married, he would have to deny ever saying this. It would be totally unromantic to admit he came to the party because he thought Brenda would give up her pussy. Shane gave it no thought before blurting out, “I’m a virgin, okay?!”
The upperclassmen squealed and screamed with laughter. There was punishment in the fraternity for failing to lose your virginity by your senior year — it wasn’t technically allowed, but they didn’t kick you out, they just made you clean the house and teased you and did all kinds of terrible things, unless you were Jules and you could claim you were a virgin for religious reasons.
“Now I’ll consider giving you an invite if you get on all fours and bare your ass,” Chad said with a forced-casual laugh. Shane sighed, though he had known this was coming. He was both dreading it and looking forward to it. The other upperclassmen laughed along with Chad, with their own mixture of horror, curiosity and jealousy.
Shane was so excited he didn’t even consider saying no, even if he was also fearful of it. Just a few hours ago he would have been shocked and humiliated by this, but he wanted it more than anything now. He bent over on his hands and knees. He unzipped his belt and pulled his pants down.
“Bare that ass, freshie! You better work for that invite!”
“I hope this girl is worth it!”
Pain erupted in his ass when that massive senior cock slid into him. He sighed and hung his head low. At first he thought he couldn’t take it — this experience had all the pain he had expected, and none of the pleasure he hoped would come along with it.
But that only lasted a few seconds. Once he got over the initial burst of agony, he felt Chad’s manhood teasing his prostate. It was just the first inch or two of cock, but it felt so good Shane moaned. He couldn’t help but make it a pleasured, blissful moan that oozed desire and arousal.
The upperclassmen all fell silent. They were confused, maybe a little reverent, unsure why Shane acted as though he wanted this. It was, after all, supposed to be hazing, not a reward.
As more and more of that frat boy cock slid into him — excuse me, ‘fraternity man cock’, of course — Shane’s pain diminished more and more. With each thrust of Chad’s meat, every additional inch of fat prickmeat plunging deep into Shane’s ass, the pain was replaced by steadily mounting pleasure.
“Keep your chin high, pledge!” Chad said when he saw that Shane was hanging his head like a tired dog.
Shane lifted his head high. It was difficult to maintain his pride in this sort of situation, but the fact that he could do so despite the snickering of his frat brothers made him feel good about himself. He remembered all those lectures — many of them delivered naked in the group shower with that hoggish meatstick dangling between his muscular thighs — about fraternity pride and brotherhood. He wasn’t supposed to feel afraid or tortured or humiliated. He was among his brothers. They would support him no matter what.
Even if he turned out to love getting it up the ass.
Judging from Chad’s gasping as he finally got the last of his dick inside Shane’s tight ass, Chad was surprised at how good this felt as well. He breathed heavily, and moaned every few seconds as pangs of bliss ran up his spine.
Chad began being ginger about it, refusing to touch Shane’s asscheeks any more than necessary, looking away as though it was too disgusting to watch. But that didn’t last long.
By the time his cock was fully hard and leaking precum again, Chad was fully into it, excited, eager to plow back and forth as hard and as long as he could. He held on to Shane’s pale buttcheeks, gripping them tightly and even slapping the flesh to watch those plump orbs jiggle.
Chad took off his shirt too, to give himself more leeway. He wanted to watch his cock slide in and out of Shane, whose ass loosened to accept it.
The tortuous pain was still there, but it was distant, like a faded memory. Instead Shane was overwhelmed by intense pleasure, rolling waves of orgasmic bliss that were so incredible he didn’t even notice his own cock get hard or his own hand wrap around it.
The upperclassmen were completely silent now. If it weren’t for the grunting and the frenzied rutting of Shane and Chad, the room would be entirely silent. Even the other freshmen pledges had returned and now stood there like equals with the upperclassmen — who normally didn’t allow pledges to stand with fully-inducted brothers — watching as both men moaned in sync with each other.
Neither Chad nor Shane needed to say anything when they both approached orgasm. They were in wordless communication with each other, and Shane could pick up everything Chad thought through the throbbing of his dick inside Shane’s ass.
So he could feel it when Chad’s balls crawled up in their sac, and he could sense the tension in Chad’s muscles. He could feel the jagged breathing where his exhalations condensed on Chad’s neck and shoulders. Meanwhile Chad himself sensed the overwhelming prostate orgasm that wracked Shane so hard it was almost painful. His muscles tightened and his hole clenched tight around Chad’s cock.
“Oh, nasty, is he gonna bust!”
“He’s gonna shoot inside him?!” That was one of the upperclassmen, who got down on his knees to watch as Chad orgasmed.
Cum sprayed into Shane’s ass, a big wad of it flooding his body in undulating torrents of bliss. It was hot and thick, and it coated his insides. Shane moaned. He had never felt anything so delightful. He orgasmed at the same time, pleasure emanating out from his prostate in waves. He spurted cum onto his hand and onto the floor.
He didn’t know how long it lasted. He was both acutely aware of everything around him — the awkward breathing of his fraternity brothers, the far-off beeping of a cell-phone whose battery was dying, the hum of the air-conditioner — while at the same time unable to pay attention to anything but the mind-numbing pleasure that flowed through his veins. It could have lasted for hours, he wouldn’t have known, and it could have lasted for years, he would have been fine with that.
Except, he thought as Chad’s cock finally pulled out of his ass, if he stayed like that for years, Brenda Fallow would never see him and fall in love with him.
Once blissful relief flooded him when Chad’s cock plopped out, Shane knew he didn’t want to do this again. It was fun to do once, though he would never admit how much he enjoyed it. But he didn’t want to feel a cock inside him again.
“Okay, brother,” Chad said with an exhausted sigh. “That was pretty good.” He chuckled softly to himself. Shane could tell that Chad was shocked by how good it felt. He was downplaying it for the benefit of his fraternity brothers. From the upperclassmen’s nervous laughter, it sounded like they knew this wasn’t some hazing torture. It was obvious that both Shane and Chad had enjoyed themselves.
But no one wanted to admit that.
Instead Shane cleared his throat. “So I can come to the party? Right, Chad?” He called him Chad instead of Pledgemaster or sir, but Chad either didn’t notice or didn’t care anymore. The old rules were out the window.
“Of course,” Chad said. “If the girl you like is going to be there, then who am I to stand in the way of true love?”
They all laughed, glad that this had happened but even more glad that it was over. Shane stood up, no longer eager to be a frat boy — he was now a fraternity man.

Thumper the Booty Bandit: Chapter 8

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Thumper the Booty Bandit

Chapter One: The Old Head

Chapter Two: Still Whistlin’

Chapter Three: On the Systemic Racism of the So-Called “Road” and Its Origins in Patriarchal Patterns of Oppression

Chapter Four: Debt

Chapter Five: Crossing the Bridge

Chapter Six: The Sauciest Noodle

Chapter Seven: Nights of Long Love

Chapter Eight: Hazing

Chapter Nine: The Trustee

Chapter Ten: Missus

Chapter Eleven: Whitey

Thumper parked the Jaguar near the Baltimore County College campus. He ain’t never gone to college as a student or even as a visitor before. The lawn — the quad, though Thumper ain’t never heard it called that — was clipped clean, crawling with college kids playing frisbee and taking phone-photos of theyselfs playing frisbee. A few picnicked on blankets spread out on the grass and took phone-photos of theyselfs picnicking. One foursome used they phone to play something that sounded like a water-brain retard screaming obscenities over a romantic movie soundtrack and then took phone-photos of theyselfs listening to it.
He looked around for Miriam. She done called her dad to ask for a ride home from college. She be getting rides from her friend Katie, but Katie got car trouble and “oobered”. Mr. Gregarian said Miriam gotta wait for Thumper, not do a “oober”. When Thumper asked what a “oober” was, Mr. Gregarian said it was a phone company that sent a Pakistani to give women a ride home and rape them.
So Thumper strode onto campus, hoping he resembled the kinda nigga who went to college. He ain’t know where to go. Miriam weren’t a-loiter-about in the parking lot. Thumper ventured deeper into the campus on the peep for her.
“Keep it up, men!” came a laughing voice.
“Don’t drop the line!”
“Hold those tomatoes, men!”
Thumper saw a line of naked fellahs coming this way. He stopped short and threw his eyebrows way back. The boys in they buff was marching like soldiers, but they got an odd pace about ’em. Most ’em was white but one was a nightcheek nigga you could just tell was like Nigerian or some shit, and a couple was sundry Asian squint-a-lots.
When they got closer, he saw they wasn’t fully naked — they was all wearing jockstraps and nothing else, so even they feets was bare. They sniggled out giggles, and the fully clothed men watching them go counted off they pace. The reason they be moving like defective soldiers was that each one got a tomato a-squeeze between they buttcheeks.
“Keep it up, Danny! You won’t get through pledge week if that’s as fast as you can go!”
“If you make tomato sauce, you’re goin’ straight to the Beta house!”
The ones in charge was laughing harder and harder, as the young’uns sallied through the quad. The other dopes and drips scattered around looked at ’em like naked bugaboos when they bare bottoms got in the backgrounds of they phone-photos. Thumper ain’t never seen nothing like this. Was it a college class? Ain’t none ’em look like teachers.
“Thumper?” Miriam was behind him. She somehow found him without taking her face outta her phone. Maybe she got a nigga-finder on that jawn.
“Oh, there you is,” Thumper said. He stood to spare her seeing them fellahs in they jockstraps, though she musta spied ’em on the way here. “C’mon, you ready to go home?”

That sea of plump behinds was dancing in Thumper’s eyes. Every single one them was likely intact in the booty, he thunk. College whombutts locked up usually was, till Thumper got ahold of ’em.


“Yes. Today was horrible, Wendell! My social justice in American media professor hates me,” Miriam said. She harped on about an unfair grade on an essay, while he led her to the Jag. “I spent hours writing it. He said it lacked verve. What does that even mean?!” She ain’t act like she was expecting an answer, so Thumper ain’t give her one. They left the tomato-butt boys behind. “He’s kinda hot, actually. My professor, I mean. Oh god, don’t tell my dad I said that. He’s old, he’s like thirty. My professor, I mean, not my dad.” She snorted back a laugh.
“What was up with those boys in they drawers?” Thumper asked when he opened the door to the Jag. Miriam slid into the passenger seat this time, not the back.
“Drawers? You mean their jockstraps? Don’t say ‘drawers’, this isn’t like Kentucky or wherever they say that.”
“They say it in Baltimore,” Thumper said with a snapdown. “I’m from here.”
“Those Kappa boys are so gross, I, like, totally got trauma from it. I’m probably gonna dissociate from it. Or anxiety. Maybe I’ll get anxiety. This whole week has been like that,” she said. “I heard the Kappa boys were farting on each other this morning. Boys are disgusting.”
“Uh-huh, sure are.” Thumper sat behind the wheel and started the engine.
“It’s fraternity hazing,” she said. “Frat boys are lame. I’m so over them.” She done pull her hair back, so it ain’t block her face. “I’m not joining a sorority. I was gonna. The Epsilon Tau Gamma sisters are the hottest sorority, but… They’re a bunch of slutty bitches. Whatever, grr. One of them is like so fat, it’s hilarious.” She snorted. They drove past the line of fraternity freshmen, they pale asscheeks jiggling in the bright sunshine. Miriam watched them go past. She sighed. “Popularity is dumb, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter after high school.”
“A free adult can choose whose popularity matters. That’s a freedom ain’t nobody can take from you. The people you choose is yo’ niggas. Or whatevuh the white-girl equivalent of a nigga is.”
She laughed. Thumper ain’t never heard her laugh like she meant it.
There was a long pause. “I don’t want to know what you got arrested for. I was thinking, before, about how to ask you and whether it would be rude. But I decided I’m not asking because I don’t want to know. People aren’t just the sum of how everybody has seen them.” She touched Thumper’s arm, just like she done in the Jag on the way home from Ocean City. Just like then, it got Thumper’s heart pounding and his head circling. He kept feeling her touch after she let go.
She kept talking on the ride, and Thumper even responded, but he ain’t listen. He was savoring the softness of her fingers on his skin.
After dropping Miriam off at the Gregarian house, Thumper gotsta swap noses with his parole officer. Mr. Perry again scolded Thumper like a disagreeable diaper about being late and finding a job, even though he both got gainful employment and wasn’t late. Thumper scowled through it. Mr. Perry was just delivering the only messages in his databank.
Then, Thumper ain’t scoot his booty back to Lipsweet to see Mr. Gregarian. He shoulda — he was trying-a garner greens and Mr. Gregarian often got odd jobs for him.
Something, however, drew him back to that college campus. He ain’t get in a trembling whiteboy since Ocean City couple weeks back, and he was eager to drop a load.
He could go back to Lipsweet and likely end up in one of the dancers by the time the night was done. But them dancers was worn through, and that lightskin badonkadonk Sherry made him stop over and over so she could do new facebooks and check up on her prior facebooks. Once she blueballed him cuz the computer voted down her facebook and put her in “facebook jail” for “subposting the truth about Mexican sluts” — Thumper seen niggas on fire less freaked out than she was, and her pussy snapped shut like a shy clam. After that she wasn’t hot no more to Thumper.
Thumper craved them clean college boys with intact booties and dirty jockstraps. They looked smooth as platypuses and perky as morning coffee. So he wandered about the campus. Whatever kinda hazing was going on before, it musta got done with. The quad was quiet as a quackless duck, ‘cept for the raucous rhythmic chorus of crickets ringing the campus.
But just off campus, there was a house with a rowdy party going on. Thumper’s ears hopped onto that sound like a city bus. He heard young’uns laughing and carrying on to loud music — like rock and roll, but you could just tell the singer ain’t never get laid — plus it got a banjo — and all them deep on the slur. They was drunk enough to struggle to take photos of theyselfs with they phones. The party sounded wild as werewolves with phone addictions. Thumper sauntered over to check it out.
It seemed they was all drunk enough to ignore him, or maybe it was dark enough outside that they ain’t notice he weren’t one among them, so long as he stayed outta the house itself. He sidled up into the frontyard, which was dark and shadowy and filled with couples kissing, frat boys doped out in the grass and two girls arguing in frantic hushes. Every single one got a phone in hand.
In the backyard though, the hazing was still going on. A half-dozen freshface buttsniffers in jockstraps chugged beers while older dipsticks cheered them on, and one by one, they each passed out. Thumper stood in the shadows and watched.
He grabbed a Natty Boh, and he drank it quick as candy. Couple fellahs did see him and realize he was old and prison-tatted and not a college student by far, but they was too drunk to come to any kinda conclusion — Thumper was just standing and smoking ciggies, not doing a dillynigging thing, not even dithering at his phone, so not a bone wiggled a niggle about him.
A mountain of empty beers pyramided up beside the sliding-glass door in the rear of the party house. The smell of puke was barely overpowered by the reek of spilled drink.
One pimple-face curled-olive gal showed off her titties soon enough, and that got Thumper’s root reviving. She was maybe involved with a sorority or some shit, Thumper gathered, but he ain’t know enough about college life to pick up on what he eyeballed.
In any case, she got fine bazoombas, but he ain’t the kinda nigga to mess with a drunk-to-fuck woman. He ain’t lose his morals in prison.
‘Sides that, them frat boys got booties that was looking mighty fine and ain’t require no woo or obsess about “tweet ratios”.
The backyard was empty of consciousness, and just a half-dozen or so freshmen was there, sleeping it off, they phones resting in they pockets. Thumper ain’t sure if that meant they passed the hazing or they failed it. In any case, he already got his sights set on one.
His name was Danny, and he played college lacrosse, not that Thumper knew that. Danny was a champion laxxer back in his elite prep school — all the elite prep schools in Maryland had well-regarded lacrosse teams because it was the state team sport. Thumper ain’t know that either, despite having never left the state, nor did he know what a prep school was. He got only a glimmer of a idea what lacrosse was.
Danny was unconscious clutching his phone when Thumper grabbed him from the backyard and dragged him to the row of cars parked on the grass. He got him behind a car, walled off by another car on one side and a cold brick wall on the other.
“Hmph, whatchoo doin’?” Danny said, awakening enough to grip the back of the car when Thumper telled him to. He looked around like he wondered if he was dreaming.
Thumper pulled down Danny’s pants and made him spread his legs. Danny was still too drunk to realize he oughta resist. Thumper slipped his erect dick right into the hole, and Danny hissed. Thumper laughed. He pushed his whole cocktip in. There weren’t no resistance, cuz Danny was too drunk to clench, even in tremendous pain. “You just hangin’ out wit’ a slappy-dappy nigga, spunkface. You the coolest honky in the world.”
“Ow, shit. Really? Whaaaat?” Danny wriggled and tensed, unaware of what was happening to his backside. His hands flailed above the car like he was trying-a fight someone off from that direction. He held back a gag, then erupted in dry heaving, still too goggled to understand what was happening. He tried lamely to push Thumper away. “Whassshhhh…?”
“Shush, whiteboy, don’t be loud,” Thumper said, as his cock slid in past Danny’s hole. He smacked Danny’s bare asscheeks.
Danny clawed at the car. “Owwww!”
But Thumper was relentless, ramming his unlubed dick in and out over and over. Every time Danny wiggled, his butthole clenched, which sent a wave of pleasure through Thumper’s body. He aimed his pecker in different directions to hump each angle of Danny’s guts, and the fact that he ain’t use no lube only made it all the more visceral and real. It was like Danny’s guts was holding onto Thumper’s cock and ain’t gonna let him go till he fill Danny up with seed.
“Ow, shsshshshiiii!” Danny screamed, but he was too drunk to make much noise. He still ain’t understand what the strange black man behind him was doing or why his insides hurt so bad. He thought maybe he had got stabbed or shot.
But Thumper ignored his pain, threw his head back and groaned as he neared his orgasm. Danny’s asshole pulsated around his throbbing cock. Creamy pre-jizz now provided a little lube, which made it easier for Thumper to plow in and out.
With every drop of precum, he could ram deeper in and smoother out, while Danny’s huffing and puffing turned into a squealing whine. “Ew oo ah — ew oo ah — ew oo ah — hwwwwwhwhwhwhwhwhnnnnnnn!”
“G’on, squeal like a piggie, whiteboy,” Thumper murmured. He wrapped an arm around Danny’s neck and lifted his upper half up. Danny was entirely enconsced in his grip. “Got’choo good, shit… Sorry, I ain’t got a diaper to give you, you gonna need it…”
At last, he blew a massive wad deep into Danny’s guts. Only then did Danny’s drunken mind understand what was happening to him. He felt that goopy jizz seeping into him. He felt Thumper’s manhood throbbing in his sensitive asshole. He felt the heat of the cum flowing throughout his body. But he ain’t feel the jizz itself until it dripped down his taint.
Another jerk of Thumper’s hips came with another explosion of jissom inside him. Danny panted. Thumper moaned. He smacked one of Danny’s asscheeks, which made him writhe as Thumper ejaculated again and again. Thumper pounded into him with each thrust of his daggersome dick resulting in a splashy spurt of juices.
“All done, honky,” Thumper said when his cock plopped out with a satisfyingly heavy thump. Jissom ran down his thighs. “Love you, baby.” He kissed Danny on the lips.
Then Thumper sauntered off, leaving Danny there with his phone and his pants around his ankles in the party house’s overparked driveway. As he abandoned Danny, Thumper tucked his dick away and said, “You’d make yo’ cellmate the happiest nigga in the world.”

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Thumper the Booty Bandit

Chapter One: The Old Head

Chapter Two: Still Whistlin’

Chapter Three: On the Systemic Racism of the So-Called “Road” and Its Origins in Patriarchal Patterns of Oppression

Chapter Four: Debt

Chapter Five: Crossing the Bridge

Chapter Six: The Sauciest Noodle

Chapter Seven: Nights of Long Love

Chapter Eight: Hazing

Chapter Nine: The Trustee

Chapter Ten: Missus

Chapter Eleven: Whitey