Varsity Low

Times are hard

You're afraid to pay the fee

So you find yourself somebody

Who can do the job for free

When you need a bit of lovin'

'Cause your man is out of town

That's the time you get me runnin'

And you know I'll be around

Light the candle

Put the lock upon the door

You have sent the maid home early

Like a thousand times before

Like the castle in its corner

In a medieval game

I foresee terrible trouble

And I stay here just the same

Steely Dan --- Dirty Work

****

Gray Saturday morning was at my window. The big bed was empty, and I wanted coffee. I got up feeling cranky, and slipped on sweats and one of Anders' old tee shirts all stretched out and comfy from his meaty shoulders and chest. I padded out to the kitchen.

Anders was at the table, laptop open, writing something from handwritten notes, tapping away. I did not interrupt him. I went for the coffee, pouring myself a huge mug. The carton of skim milk in the fridge was...empty. Three drops landed on the surface of my coffee. Damn and more damn.

"Anders, did you use all the milk and put the empty carton back in the fridge?" I asked low and calm and slow, keeping my annoyance at bay.

"Ah, yeah, sorry Trav. I should have left some for your coffee. My bad. I'll go to the store after I'm done outlining this paper; I'm on a roll." He was wearing a white v-neck undershirt, giving me a sample of the tangled rug of his thick dirty blond chest fur. He gave me his best strawberry blond puppy dog look, weaponized for my benefit. I was roadkill.

I went in behind his chair, lifted his shaggy hair from his muscly nape, and ran my tongue slowly across it and back again. This earned me a full body shiver and groan, while I huffed his un-showered Anders scent; musk, rust, cloves, weed, maleness.

"No worries, werewolf boy, keep working. I'll go next door and borrow some from Grif and Brody. Do you think they are up?" I asked.

"Yeah, probably," he answered softly, putting a muscular arm around my waist, pulling me close and looking up at me. Mmm. Sweet boy of mine. "I'm sorry Trav, I will be more thoughtful."

"Work on your paper." I said. He went back to it, tip of his broad pink tongue out over those full velvety lips, as my universe imploded from his casual hotness. I laced up my Merrells, pulled on a fleece and ball cap, and headed next door to Griffin's flat.

Brody was pretty much living with Grif at this point, while still keeping his dorm room and nominally living on campus as JV freshmen were required to do. I listened at their door then rang the bell.

The door was opened by a young man who seemed familiar but that I did not know. "Hey, is Grif around? Maybe Brody?" I asked.

"Sure. Come on in." He was in boxer briefs and Grif's green plaid flannel shirt, clearly at home here, and clearly having spent the night. Whatever. "Grif is in the shower, Brody is out for a run. You want coffee?" he asked, scratching his balls.

"Hell yeah. I'm Travis Ravenel. I live in the next building over."

"Kyle Taylor. Grif told me about you." I followed him into the kitchen, where he poured me a big mug of joe, and let me lighten it with skim milk. I slurped. Coffee at last. Cool.

"Whoa. Thanks. I needed this," indicating the mug. Kyle looked to be about nineteen, mop of lose blond curls over a narrow, rather rodent-like face. Lean, wiry body, a compelling vibe of ambiguous sexuality. Watchful blue eyes, wary, young townie on the make. I was mildly aroused, not really wanting to be.

"I've seen you at The Tudors. I do valet parking there, Sunday brunches. You were there with that beefy wrestler dude and your parents. New Range Rover, dark gray, had less than 500 miles on it." he said, kind of smirky. "Your daddie is smokin' hot and he tipped really well."

"I'm glad you approve." I Richmond drawled with more than a bit of lofty condescension. "That was over a month ago; you have a good memory."

"Mmm. A good memory for hotness." he said, voice going low and sexy, male gaze upon me from those blue eyes, a knowingness beyond his years. Be cool. "I also deliver pizza for Little River. That's how I met Griffin."

"I see, said the blind man," I clowned for him, starting to warm up to his presence in Grif's seemingly limitless casual network of young men. "Are you in school?"

"Not right now. Too busy making ends meet," he grinned and looked down, suddenly charming. He had a Maryland accent, Eastern Shore. Bay people, watermen. Oysters and Blue Crabs. He topped off my mug and dumped the dregs of the pot into his own.

Grif appeared, shower damp hair, just the right amount of scruff, nether regions wrapped in a huge white shower towel. "Trav! Little spoon! Saturday morning hot!" He hugged me; Kyle looked on, gathering clues and intel. "Brody is out for a run; were you looking for him? I see you have met young Kyle here," tossing his head in Kyle's direction.

"Ah, no. Just looking to borrow some milk. Anders put the empty carton back in the fridge again." I sighed.

"And you instantly forgave him 'cuz he is a total Golden Retriever puppy dog, no?" Grif laughed.

"Of course. How could I not?" I grinned at Grif's knowing us so well.

"Anders is the varsity wrestler beef you were with at The Tudors?" Kyle piped up.

"Yeah. He is." Grif answered for me. He smacked Kyle's boyish ass with one big baseball player hand. "Be a good boy and brew us another pot, Kyle. Bring me a mug when you are done." Grif directed.

"Yes sir!" Kyle jumped to his assignment. Grif and I settled on the ugly plaid sofa.

"Ah...I hope I did not interrupt..."

"...my weekend chaos of carnality?" Grif laughed. "Not at all. The three of us got wicked fucked up, then fucked wickedly."

"Mmm. Some people just live for pleasure. Whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad." I teased.

"Yeah, shit happens and then more shit happens." He laughed. Kyle brought Grif's mug of coffee without asking if I wanted more. He sat on the armrest of the sofa and put an arm around Grif. Dude was a bold little tart.

"What are you boys up to today?" Grif asked.

"Mmm. Anders is working on a paper. We will go to Trader Joe's later."

"That is sooo cute; the two of you shopping together." he said with genuine affection in his voice.

"Yeah, it's kinda' great. I push the cart; he runs the list." I said, liking the happiness in my own voice. "You and Brody may well get there." Grif looked down at his coffee, suddenly bashful. Kyle smirked.

Brody came in the door from his run, as if we had conjured him up with our very words. "Hey, Trav!" He leaned over the back of the sofa and kissed my cheek. He was sweaty from his run, new Adidas sport-o pants and a faded, well worn sweatshirt with a 'Sumter High School Gamecocks' logo.

"Whoa. You smell real nice!" I teased. Brody's confidence and charisma were substantially lofted from his getting together with Grif. I was pleased that Anders and I had somewhat engineered that.

"I brewed a fresh pot if you want more coffee, Brody." Kyle piped up.

"No thanks, Kyle. I should hit the shower. I smell like a swamp-wet coon dog." he Low Country drawled. He stripped down over by the futon, my eyes wandering to his nakedness; fine ass, boyish yet JV wrestling muscular, dusted lightly with dark fur. "Like what you see, Trav?" he grinned at me. Cool.

"Yeah, Brody, always good to see you stripped down." I teased. Then he was gone into the hiss and roar of the shower. Grif gave me his crooked horn-dog grin, eyebrows up.

"Brody is fine to look upon." he said softly, with his sexy 'Bama drawl.

"I should head back next door before I cause more trouble." I said getting up. "Thanks for the coffee."

Grif went to the fridge, hauled out a full gallon of skim milk for me.

"Thanks, Grif. I will replace this." I said.

"Whenever. Whatever." he grinned. I was at the door.

"Great meeting you Kyle."

"Likewise, Trav!" he said, eagerly.

Back at our flat, Anders was still working on his paper. He looked up as I put the milk away. "You were gone for awhile," more statement than question.

"Yeah, Grif was in the shower, Brody out for a run. I met Kyle. Apparently the three of them got wicked high and fucked like goats."

"Kyle? The townie kid who Grif claims can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch?"

"Yep. In the flesh."

"Mmmm, did Brody seem OK with all that?" eyebrows raised, glint of blondish scruff, his adorable boyishness putting me at risk of an Anders trance.

"Ahhh...yeah, he seemed perfectly fine with it all." I shrugged. Anders winked at me and flashed his easy grin.

"Cool. Good for him." he smirked.

Grif texted me:

GRIF: Kyle asked for your number. Cool?

ME: sure, whatever.

<<< >>>

Late Sunday afternoon rolled around. Anders and I were quietly working at our table. He was highlighting in a text; I was outlining a paper on how the newspapers owned by William Randolph Hearst had indirectly caused the Spanish American War. I felt his eyes upon me, and met his gaze. "What?" I grinned.

"Nothing. Just awestruck to have you as my dude, Travis. It is so great to be tucked away up here, in our own place, with you on a gray weekend." he softly said.

"Yeah, it is really great living with you. I'm glad we got this place together." I said softly, getting a bit bashful. "I get to keep you as my tethered love beast." I got his biggest grin, and we got back to our studies.

Kyle texted me:

KYLE: hey Trav, want me to come by later with pizza and weed? hang out some?

I showed the text to Anders. "Should we?"

"Free pizza and weed sound good, as I don't have anything planned for dinner. Maybe get the chrome sucked off our trailer hitch?" Wicked, butt pirate grin. I nodded and texted Kyle:

ME: sure, sounds great. we're home for the night. come on over.

I sent him the address. About an hour later the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find a smiling Kyle with two XL pizza boxes from Little River, Grif and Brody unexpectedly in tow. Grif had a fat splif behind each ear, Brody easily cradling two twelve packs of Lone Star in cans. He was wearing Grif's slightly frayed letter jacket. Hot as fuck.

I held the door open wide. "Come on in, boys. Kyle with two pizzas, excellent. I see you brought these two horn-dog miscreants...sweet!" Kyle and Brody put the pizzas and beer in the kitchen, Brody quickly loading all twenty-four cans of Lone Star into the fridge for us.

Brody, Grif and Anders did their stylized jock bro shoulder hug thing. Cute as fuck. Anders stepped up and introduced himself to Kyle. "Hey, Kyle, Hugh Anders. Everyone calls me 'Anders' like, all the time.

"Kyle Taylor. You boys have a real nice place here," blue eyes wide, taking in our flat.

"Thanks...and for bringing pizzas; I am fucking starving." Anders laughed.

Grif took the splifs from behind his ears and held them up. "This weed is pure Sativa. Witchy, yet subtle and kind."

"Dude, you sound like a hipster." I teased.

"Never that. Can't really see myself with a man bun", giving me a wink, the hellfire in his dark eyes promising some joyous wickedness.

"OK, then. Pizza-beer-weed...sounds like a Sunday night." I said.

"Trav...you are just soooo...blond," Brody teased, quickly brushing my tight buzzcut with one big hand.

"Are you two already baked?" I asked.

"Yeah, just a wee tiny bit. It is the weekend after all." Grif laughed.

We kicked back in the living room, demolishing the first pizza right from the box, then making a serious dent in the second. It was good with the Lone Star, still mostly chilled from the fridge case at the Beer Barn.

"So, Kyle, tell us about yourself." Anders' skeptical gaze upon the young townie.

"Yeah, I came here to look after my very cool aunt after she had surgery for Spinal Stenosis. She lives alone in a house in town, a nice Victorian over on High Street. I take care of things for her, and we are kinda' best friends. It is much easier to find work here than back home in Easton, Maryland, so I stayed on. The, um, social opportunities in a college town also kept me here. Delivering pizza and parking cars ain't much, but I am trying for an admin job with the university; Registrar, Admissions, whatever. I'd also like to move up to a waiter gig at The Tudors as my side hustle. I valet park for them now, and everyone seems to like me there. My family back home is not real pleased that I mostly like dick, so I am now free from all that family drama."

Anders nodded approvingly. "Cool. Sounds like you've got some plans. Awesome that you stepped up to help your aunt."

Grif and Brody were side-by-side next to me on the sofa, Brody lightly feeling up Grif's ample package over his sweats. Grif's head thrown back, clearly enjoying getting groped by his hot new JV wrestler BF. Brody noticed me watching. "Sorry Trav, I just can't get enough of Grif's cock."

"No worries, Brody. This is a safe space for all manner of misdeeds and assorted acts of sexual congress." I teased. I went to the fridge and fetched more Lone Star for us.

Griffin came up from his Brody trance, sitting forward, one fat unlit splif dangling from his musky lips, pushing his tangled mane of dark hair back from his face, sexy fuckin' 'Bama boy, varsity short stop. He took up both remotes, and started scrolling around on the flat panel. "Ah! 'All About Eve'. The perfect film for this weed."

"I've never seen this before...what's it about?" Brody asked.

Grif gave Brody his look of mock horror. "The over-arching theme is one of epic, calculated betrayal. You'll see."

"You boys sure do like old movies." Kyle piped up.

"Old movies, even the bad ones, are each like a time machine. We are transported back to whenever the film was made." Grif shared. We blazed the spliff, taking huge hits, passing the jay. The weed was strong and spooky. The film started, actress Margo Channing at first unaware of how vastly she was about to be fucked over. Betrayal. Cool.

I noticed Kyle slyly checking out Anders, and I felt a fleeting cold stab of acid green jealousy. That hot beefy-ness is so not for you, my eager townie tart. I let it go, and let the weed take over my head space.

We finished the film, and Grif darkened the screen. "You like the film Brody?" he asked.

"Awesome. I liked the end scene, with all the mirrors, the way the music comes up. Super creepy." Brody answered.

" 'We're all just busy bees, making honey night and day, full of stings!' " Kyle quoted Margo. He went to my fridge and fetched back four more beers without asking. I felt a petty flash of spleenful annoyance. Be cool, very cool.

"Thank you...Kyle." I said, with a tsunami of trust fund condescension. Jasper would be so proud. My father could reduce the most arrogant of head waiters to puddles of subservience with just that tone.

"You boys wanna do a blow bang bukkake scene? Me on my knees, you four studs fucking my mouth, using my face as a cum rag?" Kyle asked, blue eyes wide, giving each of his young male gaze.

"Yeah, Kyle, you seem to belong on your knees," more nasty in my voice than I intended. Anders shot me a look, eyebrows raised.

"Hell yeah!" Grif and Brody joyfully enthused. I went and found lube and towels, while Brody and Anders shoved the orange easy chairs and cocktail table over by the glass sliders, clearing the stage for our scene of young male debauchery.

Kyle was already naked and on his knees with a comparatively modest, yet pretty, erect six inches. Lean, smooth, wiry body, carefully cultivated tan lines, fine-fuckable boy ass. "Strip down for me," he low rasped, our clothes went flying in all directions.

I was the first one naked after Kyle, and Brody gave a full-throated wolf whistle, "Damn, Trav! Nice!" I was lofted by the attention from this fine JV freshman. The four of us closed ranks and encircled Kyle, who allowed himself to unhurriedly gaze upon our collective, mostly aroused junk, eyes wide. He went to Anders first, slowly going down on his seven inches of thick, uncut girth. His big balls were already scrunched up in their untrimmed nest of dirty blond fur, which ran like a thick rug from balls to collar bone. Male animal.

I put one hand on the back of Kyle's head, grabbing the lose blond curls, forcing him roughly up and down on Anders' meaty unit. "Fuck yeah, service my studly boyfriend you suck boy slut!" I seethed. Kyle groaned with pleasure, clearly enjoying some rough verbal. Taking my lead, Anders put both big farm boy hands on Kyle's head, rough fucking his mouth, "yeah, take my pudd deep, you little dick sucking bitch!'

Kyle moaned and writhed in kneeling, submissive, ecstasy. He had zero gag reflex. None. Anders pulled out, a thick long streamer of pre-cummy spit spanning from Anders' blunt wet glans to Kyle's slutty lips. "Go suck on Travis! I wanna see it!" Griffin directed.

Kyle went down on my cut seven point five inches of pink dick, grazing my big fuzzy blond balls with his finger tips. "Ahh...don't EVEN fucking look at me, filthy little townie tart!" I grabbed his head and went deep for some rough face fucking. "You like that shit? You think about sucking every cock in the locker room, don't you?" I slapped him, twice, kinda' hard. Kyle answered with squirms of pleasure at both my dick and my abuse.

Dude was indeed some awesome head; still no gag reflex, his teeth seemingly withdrawn into his jaws like a vampire at the end of his night. Nice. I pulled back from his mouth, not wanting to cum yet. "Get on Griffin's pudd. Lick his big hairy balls first!"

Grif had his head back, hands clasped behind his head, his dark fuzzed ass, legs and nether regions contrasting with his smooth chest. The Grif satyr-storm, naked and next to me, getting a blow job from the disposable suck boy we were all sharing. I leaned over and put my face in one dark furred pit, huffing his Griffin scent. Weed, red clay, locker room shower soap, Jack Daniels, fresh mowed lawns, sailboat canvas in the hot sun. Anders gave me a wink, "Yeah, Trav, get some Grif funk! I know you like it, babe!"

Kyle flicked his tongue lightly on Grif hairy scrot, which I knew from experience Grif liked. A streamer of pre-cum landed on Kyle's face as he licked balls. Grif grabbed his head and mouth fucked Kyle, rough. "Yeah, yeah, yeah...you do that all the way right, boy!" Griffin let his low sexy Mobile drawl off its tether. Kyle wriggled and mewed, like a new puppy sucking teat. Grif and Kyle had a bit of history, and I had to smile at seeing how much they enjoyed each other.

Grif pulled Kyle off him by the hair and directed his mouth towards Brody's cock, clearly the biggest at eight point five inches uncut, dark glossy bush and low balls. Dude was a freshman Minotaur. "Fuck his mouth, Brody! Try to make him gag!" Grif directed to a grinning Brody. Kyle nursed on big hangin' Brody for while, then Brody grabbed his ears and started dick-rammng his head.

Brody threw his head back, showing his perfect jawline of perfect scruff. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Brody hissed. Kyle was still, focused on fully throating Brody's uncut Low Country monster. "Unh! Unh! Unh!" Brody grunted, 'eat it, Kyle!" I lubed up my cock with slow lite strokes. Anders did likewise, sliding his meaty Nordic foreskin over the pink bluntness of his glans, shiny with precum. Grif slow lubed too, rope of spit and precum drooling from his dick to the carpet.

Brody was still thrusting Kyle's pussie-boy mouth. "Yeah! Lick my ass, Kyle!" Brody pulled out, turned around, and bent from the waist, Kyle diving ears deep in Brody's splendid wrestler ass. "Aaaannngh!" Brody groaned.

"Fuck yeah, lick him Kyle! Go deep!" I growled. Seeing Kyle's golden curls contrasted with the dark fur of Brody's ass was a lot, and I had to stop touching myself. Anders was getting close; I could tell by the way his ample knot of scrot was tight and swelled. Grif's mouth was hanging open..he liked watching Brody get rimmed as much as I did.