Back in my college days, I pledged a fraternity my sophomore year. My roommate was a junior transfer from Malden, Massachusetts. His name was Daniel Brown -- a big guy, 6'0" and 180 lbs. He played soccer in high school and joined the college team. He had sunny blond hair and a tight end's body. He was virtually hairless, except for the tufts under his armpits and the patch from his navel down and around his balls. You could say that Daniel was thick. His hands were thick, his chest and torso were thick, and so were his legs and feet. Even his fingers were wide and stubby. He seemed to be bursting with strength and his 8" dick was a logical extension of that image...thick and ready to burst with cum.
He always woke me up after coming home from a party to let me know whether he was lucky or pissed. As he undressed he'd sometimes show me his boner with a filled rubber on it, or massage his crotch through his tight Calvin Klein's to express frustration in a date that wouldn't put out. I'd drool as he relived the details and used his mass hands to play with himself. On nights when he didn't score after the lights were out, he'd climb into bed naked and used a sock he stuffed under his bed for the night to jerk his meat. I could see his silhouette in the window light, using a fist to slide the sock up and down his erection, jamming his feet into the bed and raising his ass off the sheets as he screwed his fist-gripped sock. In the end, he'd thrust his dick up and shoot an endless wad of cream into that long sock, nursing and torturing his aching dick knob until his groans almost got too loud. Then he'd stuff the sock under his mattress and roll over in a dead sleep. More than once, I'd slipped out of bed after he was snoring to pull the sock out from under his mattress, scoop out the cum, and use it to jerk myself off. I'd sniff one of the discarded socks on the floor as I used his night's sock and smear cum all over myself. Once I got bold enough to bend down and smell the musky sweat and soap odor of his ass, and the tart tangy starch smell from his balls as he slept. But I never touched him: he was too straight.
'Cause Daniel was so much bigger and stronger than me, I needed to be crafty around him. Brute strength would never work as he'd have all the advantages. Often, I'd end up in a headlock, with him grabbing my balls and making me beg to have him let go. One day, though, he found out that he could not only handle me, but fuck around with my body. He was straight, but the power of commanding another guy gave him a thrill...and fuck, when he had me on the ropes, I was completely at his mercy. He could've screwed my ass all over the room and I wouldn't have said a word. As it was, I wasn't into being screwed and Daniel just played with my body like a toy.
One night in March, in a drunk stupor, he jumped me, and like always I put up a losing cause. Only this time, he suddenly pulled my shirt from my shorts, shoved it up under my arms while I was in an arm-lock.
"The fuck you think you're doing?"
"Stay still runt, and if you're a good boy I'll let you out."
I stopped resisting, hoping that he would give in. I was in no mood to get too worked up. I hadn't jerked it for a week, and the last thing I wanted was an embarrassment. But Dan had other plans.
Daniel lay on my back, with my arm locked behind me. My face was turned sideways on the bed, and my raging dick was erecting against my shorts and the bed...I had slipped free of my briefs while we were wrestling around. Now the soft shorts fabric smoothed against my hardening, tender, unprotected prick. I could feel the precum drooling from my p-hole. Daniel suddenly slipped his free hand under me, and using a blunt index finger, gently but firmly insinuated it into the hole of my navel.
"Daniel, you shit, stop it, get your finga outta there, Jesus; noooooooooo stoooooooopppppp...please, hahahahaha Daniel, stop, haaaaaa.... FUCK....aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh NNOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOO!!!!"
I laughed uncontrollably as his persistent finger drilled deeper into my vulnerable belly button. Shit, I may as well have been some cunt with a guy's finger up my hole, because I was his. He had me by a nerve ending straight to my cock.
"Now, you just cooperate, little buddy, and I'm gonna let you go. But you do as I say...or I may just tickle you to death." With that, he stopped for a moment to let me catch my breath and speak.
"Okay, okay, just don't tickle me again...please, just don't tickle me again."
He rolled onto his back and took me with him. I yelped once because my arm hurt, but he gave me some slack and let me rest on his chest and stomach. My head was on his firm pecs, and my straining crotch now bulged obscenely. He hooked my legs with his and then went to work. The right hand which had been irritating my navel now slid down to my crotch.
I struggled in embarrassment and panic. "Daniel, you jerk-off, get your hands offa me....NOW, YOU DICK!" Then, in desperation, I begged. "Please, Dan, let me go, I don't feel like playing around anymore...let me up, c'mon.."
His response was swift and sure. He sent that worming finger right back to my navel, and sent me into another series of hysterical laughing shrieks. As I yelled, I could hear him laughing in deep guffaws; he liked having me as his prisoner, to play with as he pleased.
"Now, are you gonna shut up and cooperate, or am I gonna have to use my finger on you again? Maybe next time I'll see how ticklish you are somewhere's else...maybe your ribs, huh?...so ya better calm down."
I surrendered, giving in to the pleasure of his meaty fingers rubbing my nips and the rest feeling such sensuous sensations. He tied one of his dirty socks around my mouth...whether as torture or with a fetishized purpose was beyond me. In the meantime, I knew I would begin plotting my revenge the moment I was free. At times when we played around, I tickled Dan, once on his foot and another time under his arms but he escaped despite laughing uncontrollably for a moment or so. My time would come. I could wait...
