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My name is Steve Victor. A six-foot-three, broad-shouldered, muscular and dare I say extremely good-looking young Black man currently living in Virginia. This year has been the year of changes for me. I graduated from Castor Academy, an all-male private boarding school in Boston, Massachusetts, and got accepted into Saint Theresa College. It’s a private, deeply religious school located in rural Virginia. Originally, it was a women’s institution for well over two hundred years, but three years ago they voted to admit men. The college is now home to ten thousand students, and half of them are men. Unfortunately, there are only eighteen hundred Black students, and I’m one of them.

I wasn’t too sure what to make of Saint Theresa College when I got there. I expected a stuffy, elitist, all-white, female-dominated place. It was quite different. Well, it was still mostly white, but that’s what you get for living in the great state of Virginia. The school originally offered Women’s Archery, Basketball, Bowling, Cross Country, Fencing, Field Hockey, Lacrosse, Ice Hockey, Rifle, Rugby, Softball, Soccer, Swimming, Track, Volleyball, Water Polo and Wrestling. For club sports, they offered Women’s Cycling, Equestrian and Boxing. The Equestrian Club recently became coed, with five male Equestrians among its roster of twelve. With the arrival of the male students, the school added new athletic opportunities for the men. They started Men’s teams in Archery, Basketball, Baseball, Bowling, Cross Country, Fencing, Football, Ice Hockey, Lacrosse, Rifle, Rugby, Soccer, Swimming, Track, Volleyball, Water Polo and Wrestling. For club sports, they offered Men’s Cycling, Rowing and Boxing.

My first day at Saint Theresa College, I tried out for the Football team. I made it, too. I was selected to be an offensive lineman. That’s cool with me because that’s what I liked doing. I played football for Castor Academy back in high school. I loved it. It’s an experience which I will never forget. The Football coach, Michael Slade was a tall, burly Black man in his early fifties. He was also the Director of Athletics for the college. His daughter Emily Slade was the Captain of the Women’s Rugby team. She was rather famous, having being a high school wrestler and football player before joining the college varsity Women’s Rugby team. His son Arthur Slade, a tall and bulky, bald-headed Black guy was on the college’s Men’s Wrestling team. I guess everyone’s an athlete in this family. I would get to know the Slade family quite intimately. As for their mother, Sarah Jefferson Slade, she was the Director of Admissions for Saint Theresa College, as well as an alumnus of the school.

My roommate was a six-foot-tall, good-looking, red-haired and green-eyed Irishman named Manny Des. He was on the Saint Theresa College Men’s Basketball team. Ankara escort He was sexy as hell. The first time I laid eyes on him, I saw something familiar. Yep, he was like me. A bisexual stud. I trust we were going to get along wonderfully. Manny Des was going out with a tall, sexy blonde named Ellen Grey, of the Saint Theresa College Women’s Soccer team. They made quite the cute couple. I met Ellen. She was a nice gal. sometimes, I hung out with Manny and his girlfriend. I had a lot of fun with them. I just wished Ellen would stop trying to fix me up with her girlfriends. I liked all kinds of women. However, there’s one type of chick I liked most. A brick house. I’m talking a tall, thick-bodied, big-bottomed and sensuous woman, preferably Black or Hispanic. You know what I’m talking about? Cool. I’ve hooked up with a few white chicks. They were fun. However, I like me a woman with a big ass. White chicks with big asses are rare. They’re out there, though. I just didn’t seem to run into one at Saint Theresa College. There weren’t a lot of Black women around either, so I found myself a somewhat frustrated brother.

Now, I was a young Black man in a rather unfamiliar environment. I had legions of female admirers. Lots of chicks go crazy for a good-looking Black stud in a college football jersey. However, I had read headlines about Black male athletes getting in trouble with the law over females. Yep. I wasn’t oblivious to that, or so overconfident that I thought it couldn’t happen to me. I didn’t want to sex up some chick, especially a white chick, and have her say that I sexually harassed her or worse. Yeah, besides, females can be too much trouble. At that point in my life, I decided to focus on the men. There were tons of good-looking young men at Saint Theresa College. Black men, White men, Asian men and Latino men. Sexy studs. Jocks of all types. Football studs. Hockey gods. Basketball superstars. Burly Wrestlers. Muscular Baseball champs. Lithe Volleyball players. Stocky Rugby men. Lean and nimble Swimmers. Agile Track men. Yeah, all kinds of studs. Yeah, an endless parade of good-looking men of all colors, shapes and sizes. An unlimited supply of fun to be had, if I played my cards right. I lucked out. I didn’t even have to leave my room to find some fun. It found me.

I was returning back to my dorm after a grilling afternoon at football practice. The Saint Theresa College football team was the newest member of the National Collegiate Athletic Association. We were operating at the Division Three level. We had a shot at taking our division title and coach Slade wasn’t letting us forget it. The man was really tough, and didn’t cut us much slack. He was tough on his own kids. I had classes with Arthur and Emily Slade. Apparently, coach was also tough at home. He expected Emily to be the best damn Ankara escort bayan Rugby Player on the women’s team. He also expected Arthur to reach the State Wrestling Championships in his weight class. Talk about high expectations!

I sometimes hung out with Arthur and Emily. Lots of the school jocks, both male and female, hung out together. Emily was a tall, thick and bodacious young Black woman with a pretty face, large breasts, wide waist and a plump bubble butt. I could tell that she was sweet on me. Truth be told, I was attracted to her too. But I wasn’t going to make a move on the football coach’s daughter. I was still a freshman and I didn’t want to get cut from the football team. I mean, I came to college to get a degree in engineering, but I also had hopes of being an outstanding football player. Who knows? Maybe if I was good enough, I might get drafted into the National Football League. Wouldn’t that be something? No thank you, Emily. I’m going to have to pass.

So, yeah, where was I? I was returning home from football practice. And to be honest, I was really tired. Yet, when I walked into my dormitory, what I found took my mind off football altogether. Manny Des was standing there, wearing only his blue boxers. I looked him up and down. And smiled. He looked at me, and didn’t smile. I knew that look. I asked him what was wrong. He told me the truth. Point blank. He had just broken up with Ellen, his longtime girlfriend. I looked at him sympathetically and clapped him on the shoulder. There was plenty of fish in the sea, I told him. There were five thousand women at Saint Theresa College. A handsome athlete like Manny could have his pick of them.

Manny looked at me, and told me that he didn’t want a girlfriend. He broke up with Ellen, not the other way around. He had had it with women. It wasn’t Ellen’s fault but she simply could not satisfy his needs. There were things which she simply couldn’t do for him, no matter how hard she tried. He wanted something which she simply didn’t have. I told him that there was no such thing as a perfect woman. Word up. Manny grinned, then told me that he wasn’t looking for a man. I asked him what he was looking for. He smiled and told me he had just found it. Then, he kissed me. I must say that I was surprised. I mean, I knew Manny was bisexual the moment I laid eyes on him. However, I didn’t know he wanted me. Nevertheless, I kissed him back.

When our lips parted, Manny smiled at me. He told me he’d been wanting to kiss me for a long time. I smiled, and kissed him again. Truth be told, I wanted him. I had wanted him for a long time as well. I felt a certain longing when I saw him with Ellen, walking around holding hands on campus. I liked Manny. Why? He was sexy, good-looking, smart, charming and a really nice guy. I liked him a lot. And Escort Ankara he liked me too. We kissed again, and tumbled on the bed. I took off my clothes, and he threw his boxers away. We stood naked, facing each other. I admired Manny’s body. Tall, lean, muscular. Pretty face, sexy body and big dick. My man had the total package. He checked me out as well, running his hands all over my six-foot-three, muscular body. He traced his hands over my sex, and liked what he felt in his hands. Laughing, we rolled around and wrestled. It was pretty intense, funny, and kind of erotic. I found myself on top of Manny. He smiled, and put his arms around me. We kissed again. I took my sweet time kissing him. I wasn’t in any rush and neither was he. We were exploring each other’s bodies, and in some way, souls as well.

Manny kissed me, all over. His hands grabbed my sex and stroked it, and caressed my buttocks. I kissed his lips, then licked his chest and cupped his manhood in my hands. He was so long and thick, so wonderfully erect. A sexy Irishman in all of his glory. He smiled, and stroked me as well. We kissed, and continued our sexy games. We masturbated each other to a guilty pleasure. Except we didn’t feel any guilt over it. When I came, he did as well, and we shared the seed of our masculine passions. I climbed on top of him. He entered me, and I rode him. I felt his hardness inside me, and surrendered to it. He thrust into me passionately, and I completely let go. And enjoyed. He came, and I welcomed the onslaught of his masculine essence inside me. He withdrew from me, and kissed me. We held each other tightly, in silence. Then, we fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was one of the best nights of my life.

The next morning was something I dreaded. How would Manny feel about what we did? I’ve been with a few men and some women whose personalities changed the morning after. Manny didn’t. He was still the same man. He smiled at me, and kissed me. I kissed him back. We didn’t talk about what happened between us, and instead spent the day together. It was a Saturday, so no problem there. We went to the movies and watched the latest action flick, and a science fiction feature. We also ate at Wendy’s and then went to the gym to work out together. Manny told me that he liked me, and wanted us to have lots of good times together. He also told me he cared about me. But he didn’t want the entire campus to find out about us because homophobes really don’t like it when their favorite athletes turn out to be queer. I understood. I mean, I play college football and if any of my teammates found out that I was bisexual, I’d be dead. Manny was in the same situation. The college basketball team wasn’t too keen on gay and bisexual players either. So, for the time being, we would keep our relationship, or whatever it was, a secret. I wasn’t too happy with it, but I understood the necessity. Manny and I had our fun at night, away from prying eyes. We also went out together. Yet no one knew we were an item. We were simply, well, us. For now, it would be enough.

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