Chapter 14: After Class Feast
The dorm hallway echoed with the heavy, synchronized thump of two sets of footsteps. Harrison rounded the corner, his bare belly leading the way, still buzzing from the adrenalized hum of being the center of attention. His tiny black crop top felt like a second skin, and the cool air of the corridor whispered against the exposed, silver-caged flesh between his thighs. He fumbled for his keys just as another shape loomed at the far end of the hall.
Gus.
He was power-walking, his baggy hoodie and sweatpants swallowing his form, but his face was alight with something Harrison hadn’t seen before—a wild, hungry curiosity.
“Dude,” Gus breathed, closing the distance between them. His eyes raked over Harrison, from the short hem of the top, down the hairy expanse of belly, to the blatant display of the crotchless thong. “Holy shit. I heard. I heard like, five different versions, but they all end with you getting railed on a desk in front of Anthropology 101.”
Harrison’s grin was wide and unashamed. He unlocked their door, the click loud in the quiet hall. “Which version had the part where he sprayed milk all over my gut while he was fucking me? Because that one’s true.”
“Fuck,” Gus muttered, shoving his way into the room after Harrison. He dropped his backpack with a thud. “Okay. You’re gonna tell me everything. Every single detail.”
The door shut, sealing them in their shared, messy space. Gus didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the hem of his hoodie and yanked it over his head, then pushed his sweatpants down in one frantic motion, kicking them into a corner. He stood there in just a simple grey thong, his own formidable belly rising and falling, his chest hairy and heaving. The transformation from modest to nearly naked was instant, electric.
“On your bed,” Gus said, his voice lower now, thick with intent. “On all fours. I wanna see what happened to you.”
A thrilling shiver raced up Harrison’s spine. He complied, crawling onto his rumpled sheets, the mattress groaning under his weight. He presented himself, his heavy, hairy ass cheeks parted slightly by the thin black strap of his thong. He heard Gus’s sharp intake of breath behind him.
Then, warm, calloused hands were on him. Gus’s palms spread his cheeks wide, a firm, possessive grip that made Harrison gasp. Gus didn’t dive right in. He sighed, a sound of pure appreciation, and then Harrison felt the soft, wet press of lips against his right cheek. A kiss. Then another, lower. A lick, a slow, savoring drag of a tongue through the coarse hair.
“God, you’re so fucking fat back here,” Gus mumbled, his voice muffled against Harrison’s flesh. He kneaded the cheeks, jiggling them, burying his face in the cleft to inhale deeply. “You smell like… like sweat and cum and that professor’s fancy cologne. It’s disgusting. It’s perfect.”
Harrison moaned, dropping his head onto his arms. “He called me an ‘exemplary specimen’ while he was hitting my spot.”
“No way,” Gus said, finally pulling back just enough to look. Harrison felt the cool air of the room hit his most intimate skin, followed by the heat of Gus’s stare. “Wow. You’re… you’re still so open. Holy shit, Harrison.” A thumb, gentle and awestruck, traced the swollen, tender rim. It was gaped, glistening with a mix of the professor’s spend and Harrison’s own natural slick. Gus smeared it, watching the way the hole glistened. “You’re a total mess.”
“It was a thorough demonstration,” Harrison panted, pushing back against that thumb. “He started by eating me out. Said the class needed to observe proper cunnilingus technique on a ‘well-primed aperture’.”
Gus let out a shaky laugh. “You’re kidding.” His thumb was replaced by the blunt, hot pressure of his tongue. Not inside, just a broad, flat lick from taint to tailbone, collecting the mixed fluids. He groaned like he’d just tasted something exquisite. “Okay, keep talking.”
So Harrison did. As Gus’s tongue began to work in earnest—lapping, slurping, diving shallowly inside to tease—Harrison recounted the entire class. The professor’s critique of his outfit, the commanding tone, the way his hands felt jiggling Harrison’s belly for the class to see. Gus’s licks grew more fervent, his nose buried deep, his own moans vibrating against Harrison’s oversensitive pussy.
“And then he laid me back on the desk,” Harrison breathed, his words starting to stutter as Gus’s tongue found a rhythm, fucking into him with slow, penetrating thrusts. “S-so everyone could see my f-face… He said… ah, Gus!… he said the c-connection was v-vital…”
Gus pulled off with a wet pop. “He fucked you like that?In front of everyone? And they all just watched?”
“Yeah,” Harrison whimpered. “A bunch of the tops… they pulled their dicks out… started jerking off to us… bottoms were fingering their pussies....”
A low growl came from Gus. He dove back in, not just licking now, but sucking on the very rim, kissing it sloppily, fucking Harrison with his tongue in a frantic, messy imitation of what the professor had done. The sounds were obscene, wet, and hungry.
After a few minutes of this, Gus pulled away again, breathing hard. He rested his forehead against Harrison’s lower back. “You know what would’ve been hotter?” he mumbled, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin inside Harrison’s thighs.
“What?” Harrison asked, dazed.
“If he’d been a bottom. A big, fat, hairy professor bottom like me.”
The words hung in the air. Then Gus’s tongue was on him again, and Harrison’s mind whited out, constructing the fantasy around the sensation.Professor Gus. In a button-down stretched taut over his huge belly, gaps between the buttons. Tight slacks hugging his enormous ass. He’d call Harrison to the front of the class. His voice, usually so soft, would take on that same formal, lecturing tone.
“Note the subcutaneous fat distribution, class. The ideal cushioning for receptive intercourse.” His hands would knead Harrison’s belly, then cup his ass, squeezing. “And the gluteal development here—prime for grasping during lesbian-facing intimacy.”
He’d turn Harrison to face him. Their stomachs would meet first, two massive, soft pillars that pressed together, keeping their faces a few comical inches apart. The class would giggle, then groan in appreciation.
“The intimacy of bottom-to-bottom contact is unparalleled,” Professor Gus would explain, his hands coming up to jiggle both their bellies, making them sway together. “Observe the shared physiology, the mutual understanding.”
And then he’d lean in, his beard scraping Harrison’s, and they’d kiss over the summit of their combined guts. The class would erupt. Bottoms in the seats would shift, their own pussies getting wet, whispering, “I want to be a lesbian now.”
Professor Gus would bend Harrison over the desk, just like the real professor had. But instead of a hard cock, he’d use his mouth. He’d be a ravenous, disgusting pussy eater. Slurping, sucking, munching Harrison’s hole into a sloppy, quivering mess right there, his academic commentary devolving into muffled grunts of pleasure. Harrison would beg, would dirty talk uncontrollably for the whole class to hear—
“Fuck! Fuck, Gus, right there, just like that, eat me, you perverted lesbian, eat my fucking cunt!”
Harrison’s own voice shocked him, tearing him from the fantasy. He was right back in their dorm, on his knees, and Gus was doing exactly what fantasy-Gus had done—devouring him with a sloppy, worshipful fervor that had Harrison seeing stars. Gus was fingering him now too, twisting and curling his fingers inside the cum-slick channel, hitting places that made Harrison’s caged cocklet dribble impotently onto the sheets.
The pleasure built, a tsunami wave with no crest, just endless, mounting intensity. He couldn’t hold it. He didn’t want to.
“Gus, I’m gonna—I’m gonna cuntgasm, I’m gonna—”
It wasn’t a warning; it was a plea. Gus just grunted and redoubled his efforts, his tongue a wild thing, his beard soaked.
Harrison shattered. His back arched violently, a raw, guttural scream tearing from his throat as his pussy clenched and then released, not just a trickle, but a hot, thick spray of slick lube. It gushed over Gus’s working mouth, down his chin, onto his chest and hairy belly. Gus drank it greedily, milking Harrison through it until he was a trembling, oversensitive heap on the bed.
For a long moment, the only sounds were their ragged breaths. Then Harrison felt Gus collapse beside him on the narrow bed, turning onto his back. Harrison rolled onto his side, facing him. Gus was glazed. His face, his beard, his chest hair—all were shining with Harrison’s release.
Harrison, spent and tender, leaned in to start cleaning him up with his tongue. It’s what Barry had done for Walt.It felt right.
Gus’s hand came up, gently stopping him. “No.”
“What?” Harrison whispered.
Gus looked at him, his blue eyes clear and blazing with a new, unshakeable confidence. “I wanna go to my next class like this.”
“You… what?”
“I want everyone to see,” Gus said, a smile spreading across his slimy face. “I want them to know what I’ve been doing.Who I am. I’m a lesbian. And I just ate my roommate’s spectacularly fucked-out pussy.”
A warmth that had nothing to do with sex bloomed in Harrison’s chest, so fierce it nearly hurt. He looked at Gus—proud, messy, radiant—and saw the shy boy from move-in day completely gone. In his place was a man, glorious and unafraid.
Harrison leaned in anyway, not to clean, but to kiss him deeply, tasting himself on Gus’s lips. “They’re gonna love it,” he murmured.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18.