PRAISE FOR BRIANWEST:
“Couldn't put this one down... Explosiveending.”
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“Love it, I didn't expect that much detailfor a short story... NICE and HOT!!!”
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“I love it!!! Fun read.”
– Brigeda,Barnesandnoble.com Review, Giving it up for Ralph
LAST DAYS OFSUMMER
Copyright (c) 2012dirtyhunkbooks.com : : brianwest.org
All RightsReserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form. This is a work ofFiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author'simagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events orlocales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Jock Games: Playing for Keeps
Cabana Sex with Jake’s Bro
Screwing his Roommate
JOCK GAMES: PLAYING FOR KEEPS
ONE
His name was Dan.
When he walked into our dorm room lounge hedidn’t just wander in – he swaggered into our space and slipped right past mewithout a word, attitude and arrogance dripping off his back. He acted like heowned the place.
He reeked of varsity-jock entitlement.
My thoughts went into high-gear: well-bred,rich, straight, big cock, definitely a jock – football or basketball was myguess – and clearly the partying type. One by one, second by second, the labelsbegan to stack up in my mind. Looking at him wander around, his infectiousenergy spewing everywhere, it was clear that my rooming experience was going tobe a challenge. I had been expecting a laid-back quiet dude to show up.Instead, I got six feet of hard muscle, red-hot looks and an impossibleattitude.
I wasn’t sure what I hated the most:
He was unapologetic about his arrogance;
He looked like a million bucks;
He had me horned up in barely a minute;
And worst of all: he was me... Onlybetter!
On campus, I am the guy who swaggers aroundand gets all the attention. With Dan around, I was sure that would all change.Heck, he even had my attention – that never happens! A pretty little bird oncetold me all about loving and loathing simultaneously, but until Dan showed up,I had no idea what the chick meant.
Talk about contradiction!
Five minutes... That’s all it took for himto give me enough details – through body language alone – to know that he was hotshit, not to mention, a guy to be reckoned with. I knew that I would haveto step up my game if there was ever any hope for me to remain a top dog aroundcampus.
“I’ll take that one,” Dan said, once he wasfinished scoping out our pad. He was referring to my room. It did not surpriseme at all that he went after it. Out of the two rooms available, I had takenthe largest.
First come, first serve, was what I felt compelled to say but with him towering over theentrance, I suddenly lost my voice. Reluctantly, I looked over at the smallerroom to my right and contemplated how bad it really could be. When I turnedback to him, our eyes both drifted down to the pile of stuff that I had alreadyplaced on the floor – luggage, football gear, my laptop and some other shit –and I took that opportunity to set him straight.
“Actually, I got my stuff in here,” I said.
He looked me over with disapproval but Ididn’t give a shit. I stood my ground. If he wanted to swagger into my worldand be somebody, then he would have to damn well earn his place! Thenerve of him... Did he think he could just stake his claim wherever he wanted?I was the big cock on campus – not him.
What a fucking jerk.
An insanely hot jerk, sure... But still ajerk in any event.
Perhaps it was the animosity that hadmounted, in haste I might add, but I suddenly had my swagger back.
Dan surrendered but he didn’t seem pleased.The look on his face said it all. I still felt a sense of pride well up in mygut when he finally took the second room.
That’ll fucking show him, I thought to myself.
Overall, it took five minutes to size eachother up and another five to become rivals.
With the larger room back in my control,anger inevitably gave way to lust. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. When hebegan to lug his stuff from the lounge into his tiny room, going back and forthwithout saying a word, his muscles strained in what became a beautiful displayof perfection. He was wearing a pair of cargo shorts, a white polo, a ball capand flip flops. Each time he bent over to grab something, I managed to steal apeek. His arm muscles burst out of his polo shirt, threatening to tear thesleeves, and the layers of muscle on his backside, nape of neck to ass, wereperfect. His calves also looked inviting enough to warrant a bunch of stares. Icould easily see myself licking them all over.
He abruptly stopped laboring over his stuffwhen he caught me looking. The mirror on the hallway closet sliding door gaveme away.
“What?” he barked.
He still sounded angry.
“Nothing,” I said, suddenly feelinguncomfortable again. Unlike before, I now had wood between my legs and I sureas hell didn’t want him to see it.
“You’re staring,” he said, point blank.
I felt a rush of endorphins rise up in mygut. Yeah, of course I was staring! Was it such a crime? I wanted to make a move,as strange as that would have been – going from hate to hot in such a shortamount of time – but I played it neutral instead.
“I’m staring at your stuff,” I said. “Didyou move your whole damn house out here?”
He glared at me for a few seconds and thenwent back to work.
“Mind your own business,” he said as helugged a duffel bag over his shoulder.
That’s when I lost my wood. Thearrogance-routine had long since gotten old and frankly, it was boring.
I marched over to him once my boner wascompletely gone.
“Dude... What’s your deal? I’m just tryingto be friendly.”
He stopped working again and then threw hishands
