WARNING
This blog does contain adult and gay material. If you are under your country's legal age (18 or 21), do not scroll down and leave this page now. Thanks
By Richard de Orizaba
The stronghold of winter was starting to ease. On this spring morning the skies emerged clear and the sun reached the innards of the earth as never before after a long and painfully cold winter. Everywhere were the signs of the emergence of spring. There were even birds out for a picnic. There were brave young men shedding their winter attire to soak some of the morning’s sun rays. It was still cold to have your torso uncovered but the body had gotten so used to the cold temperatures that what they were feeling now, in the fifties and low sixties seemed like a heat wave. Everywhere around campus you would encounter these brave young people. It was the first exhibition of beautiful bodies of the season, pure eye candy and a cruising paradise for the gay predator so long deprived of the visual stimulus.
I did my graduate work at an Ivy League located in New Hampshire. I don’t need to tell you which one because it is the only Ivy League in that state. I lived in a very peculiar place. The house where I lived was called “Anarchy”; strange name for a dorm but highly appropriate. It had been at one point in the infancy of the university the home of the school President. Then it was for many years a fraternity and the headquarters of a secret society with weird initiation and hazing rituals. The basement still held some of the benches and the hardware for that dubious secret society.
The Anarchy had massive white columns and a two story front porch. There must have been 25 rooms that were carved out from more spacious and posh spaces. In reality, the lack of paint and state of disrepair was so pervasive that in my opinion, it must have been the least desirable housing alternative on campus.
Not so fast, there were some redeeming qualities to this hole in the wall. To begin with, there was no supervision or any manager on the premises. Then the kind of people who lived there were true “free souls” and to a great degree those who identified themselves with secular, liberal, progressives and libertarians. None of these people would have fitted in those fraternity houses or in the boring and overly supervised dorms and you could keep pets. I had inherited with the room a very regal cat that had been a resident for as long as anyone can remember. In human years, this pussy had to be at least one hundred and ten.
Anarchy house had a collection of misfits. They ranged from Johnny-come-lately hippies, rebellious anti-social misfits, gays and lesbians and black activists. But for me, it was a place of freedom, it was the example of the opposite of a hypocritical society, it was “in your face” and it was liberating.
I have a propensity to enjoy breaking barriers and to me, androgynous looking people are cool. I like the idea to be able to blur the person’s appearance or sexuality. It is at the same time a statement of non-conformity and a slap in the face to the superficial world of fashion tyranny.
I was fortunate to have the section of the house that was the most desirable. My room was huge, it was located in what was once the attic and I easily had more than 1,200 square feet but most of this was very low ceilings and you could only actually stand up in a section of about 300 
square feet. It had its own bathroom and the way I had it set up, the sleeping was done in the lower ceiling section as well as the desk and lounge area which was strewn with overstuffed pillows and plush carpeting. The center was reserved for a small make shift kitchen and dining area. Then there was a spiral staircase which led to a cupola that regaled me with a much unobstructed view of the campus. There was also one added bonus: during the winter, my place had to be the warmest since heat rises and at times even when it was snowing outside I had to open the five dormer windows to let the heat out and let the fresh air in.
The cupola above Anarchy house only accessible through my room by a spiral staircase in the center of my room.
The lines were beginning to get blurred. The hippie and acid rock, the gothic and hip hop, all was very confusing to me and it all was one melting imagery of protest and non-conformists. That was just fine with me because I have never fitted in really. Being of Mexican descent, I have never been accepted in Anglo sectors. Being from Texas, I have not been accepted in the more progressive states that look upon Texas as part of Appalachia where nobody dates outside of the family.
But it was at Anarchy that I made my best and longest lasting friendships. It was there too that I had the most intense love relationships. I don’t think that the hippie movement is dead or that it just had its adherents just grew old and became “the establishment”. What actually happened is that the hippie movement just evolved. I see it mirrored in the present day “gothic” and heavy metal crowd. In their desire to be unique, they are the most conformists, all wearing the heavy eyeliner, white make up and black lipstick and nail polish. It is just a way of rebellion only they don’t realize that they are being very much conformists as they buy into a standard image of what “gothic” or heavy metal should look like.
The best parties on campus were at Anarchy house. With the exception of the super conservatives and the frat house brats, most people would come to the parties at Anarchy at one time or another and they would have a blast.
Campus police as well as the city’s law enforcement knew that there were drugs, particularly pot but they pretty much left Anarchy house untouched because they had been burned before by public opinion when they kept raiding the place and wasting resources by arresting people who had one joint on them. It was a shameful chapter of the city police history.
Even though I had my own little kitchenette, I would participate in the communal cooking which consisted mostly in vegetarian or non-meat dishes. They would make these oversized pots of stews and beans which were washed down with generous servings of beer. Sometimes the food was awful and once in a while I would make a batch of Texas chili only I used vegetable protein as a substitute for meat. It was the best of the meals and everyone kept asking me to do it over and over again.
During one of my cooking days, I was in the main kitchen chopping the onions and there came this young man who offered to help. His name was Piccadilly and he was very talented. He played the guitar which I could hear from my room right above him. He would practice for hours and hours and I didn’t mind. It was kind of a lullaby that would put me to sleep almost every night. Piccadilly was rather young, lanky and tall with very long black hair that was already halfway down his back. He had a moustache and a beard. Piccadilly was not at all bad looking. Even if he was a bit scruffy he had the young body and that young flesh is always very attractive to me. Piccadilly did not believe in soap. He would shower or bathe in plain water and deodorant was out of the question. As a consequence, his scent was very masculine and totally alluring to me.
There was a lot more to Piccadilly that made him the object of my desire: he was extremely hairy and once I saw him naked I was sold on his beautiful uncut dick.
Piccadilly was a sexual animal. It didn’t matter if it was a male or a female. He would make love to anyone and dished out his sex to almost anyone who would ask him. I was no exception. When I was in the kitchen cutting the onions, he came down and was wearing only his blue jeans and those he had not buttoned the top so that his underwear was showing shamelessly red.
I went to the refrigerator and he stood right behind me and pressed his lower body on to me and then sort of locked his arms around my waist in an embrace I could only interpret as a pass. I responded by tilting my head back and he kissed me. I had never even spoken to him although we would say hi whenever I went down the stairs and his door was open.
Having him right behind and kissing me was a total surprise as well as a turn on. He didn’t even know I was gay and yet he made a pass at me. I didn’t know he was gay either and always saw him with hippie type girls. I could once in a while hear the sexual activity as the girl would be just moaning and reaching an orgasm. From my room I could tell the guy was a good fucker. I also realized that the mother fucker tortured his sexual conquests and he took a long time to cum. I sometimes could not help myself and after hearing all the sounds of the lovemaking downstairs couldn’t avoid masturbating. I would jerk in unison to the girl’s sounds and would reach an orgasm at the same time she did.
But now Piccadilly was going after me and he turned me around and we started to kiss deep and passionately. I could sense his macho scent. That was what turned me on the most about him. He was all male and had absolutely no indications of being homosexual or even bisexual.
He said: “Let’s go to my room, I want to fuck you”. Then I brought my hand to his crotch and felt his big cock. It was massive and hard, although I could not determine the size for sure, I knew it was big and thick. We went to his room and he took off the jeans and the tent was incredible. I too shed my clothes and we continued to kiss. Piccadilly could kiss and as he did, I was running my hands over his hairy chest. His smell was torturing me. At that point, there wasn’t one inch in that dude’s body I would not have licked with my tongue.
I told him: “I want to lick you all over” to which he said: “I wish you would” ant I started to. When you lick somebody that hairy you are bound to get hairs in your mouth but I didn’t care. I had them get caught between my teeth also, and that didn’t matter either. Then I was able to finally reach his armpits. That was the best part. His animalistic scent, his macho man smell was just driving me crazy.
I eventually reached his dick after traveling through the chest and on down his hair covered stomach. It was a very wonderful cock; uncut and very thick. Beer can, if you want to describe it that way. These lanky boys often tend to have thick cocks.
“Oh, man, that feels so cool, oh, shit, suck my cock” and I was just having a good old time. Then he said he wanted my ass. He didn’t have to ask twice. I turned around and spread my ass cheeks with both hands inviting him to invade the territory. Piccadilly approached and got his cock wet with spit and proceeded to push his thick cock into me.
Once his cock had completely penetrated me and the pain started to subside, Piccadilly just went to town and began to pump his cock. It was a very even rhythm and he was now almost taking the whole thing out of my ass and plunging it back in with force. When you got fucked by him, you knew you were getting fucked and that is what I totally enjoyed. I also liked even better that as he was fucking me, he started to perspire and the body smell became more intense as all those hormones were being put to work. What an intoxicating scent that guy had.
After a good 45 minutes of Piccadilly just destroying my asshole, I started to feel the inevitable tickle. It was like an avalanche of sensations. It was very pleasant to have that big cock up my ass but now the sensitivity had heightened and I was starting to have involuntary contractions. The contractions were coming at a more regular pace, intervals of pleasure and then severe tightening. Piccadilly loved it; he said that he had never had anyone tighten the asshole that way before. I told him it was because I was having an anal orgasm. Then it happened. I started to pant and to moan, and I didn’t even have any control over it. As this was happening, I was also having an orgasm in the front. My cock started to shoot what seemed to be an uninterrupted stream of cum.
Some of the kids who lived at Anarchy were like a trip to the sixties (above) and yet others were these painted androgynous gothic types
Yet Piccadilly wasn’t shooting his wad. After I got finished cumming, I stayed hard as if nothing had happened, that is how much I was enjoying this sex session. Piccadilly then said: “ok, buddy, I’m taking my cock out now and you are going to fuck me”. Who’d knew? Piccadilly lay on his back and raised his legs. I had no trouble putting in my cock. It went and he didn’t even gasp. He then straddled his legs on my shoulders and I began to pump. I was pumping my cock into him as if I had not cum in days. It was also my chance to suck him. As I was fucking him I think that I was starting to hit the prostate glands and I could hear him making the same noises I was so familiar with and I would hear from my room upstairs when he was fucking some hippie slut.
“Oh, oh, fuck man, oh man, wow, oh, oh, shit, oh, oh, I’m gonna shoot, oh, oh. Aaaaaahhhh, fuck, I’m cumming” As he deposited what must have been over half a cup of sweet delicious man juice in my mouth.
Piccadilly and I got it on a few more times and then the mother fucker had this cunt move in with him although there was not enough room for two in his room; only a single bed. I really don’t know how they managed but she was there all the time. I think her name was Aurora or Mist or some fucked up name like that.
I mentioned that Anarchy had some of the best parties on campus. This particular spring night I spent the whole day cooking Texas chili only I used textured vegetable protein instead of hamburger meat. These pots were gigantic, they were more like caldrons but you had to keep stirring or it would stick to the bottom and burn. The commercial stove was large by any standards and each pot covered three burners.
Then we had someone bake a shitload of corn muffins and the guys all chipped in and got three barrels of beer. The party started around seven and it went on until three in the morning. That party was themed with a Latin twist and they played Brazilian and Cuban music all night. Since I was in my element, everyone was watching me dance and sing along with the music as I knew most of the songs well.
There was one burly; I mean super butch gigantic bear that just started to cling to me and to make passes. He was so big and butch I would never have even dreamed of pegging him as gay. But he drank like a fish and as he drank he began to lose his inhibitions and became bolder and more daring.
His name was Perdue as in the chicken brand and he was a dirty blond, long haired which he held back with a head band. He was sporting a full heavy and very black beard. His eyes were as blue as they come and he must have had a 50 inch chest. Perdue started to put his arm around me, and then progressed to hug me until he finally kissed me in the mouth right there in the middle of the crowd that had congregated outside of Anarchy House.
Perdue was huge. I guess a little overweight but he was such a gentle bear and had the thickest cock
“Hey, buddy, why don’t we go to your room and let me crash there for a while?” He asked. I told him it was ok with me and I could not possibly hold him up as he must have weighed 280 pounds but as we entered the house, the penetrating, sweet smell of burning grass was overwhelming. While the party goers danced, drank and ate outside, inside the house everyone was getting high.
We got to my room and Perdue said: “Hey, little buddy, can you help me take off my clothes?” “What clothes? You don’t have a shirt on and it is just your pants” “Yeah, man, I mean, help me with my pants. He was wearing sandals and those were off right away. As I started to unbuckle his pants the belly was hanging over and his torso which was very hairy and strong became an attraction to me. I actually found the guy sexy. Yes he was overweight and I might not have picked him up if I had met him at a bar. But here he was in my room, heavily intoxicated and when I pulled down his pants, he wasn’t wearing any underwear and had a cock ring on surrounding a gargantuan uncut dick. It was easily as big as mine and much thicker. Uncut and pretty it was hard. The booze was not having any adverse effects on my newly found trick Perdue.
“Hey, Richie, you did say your name was Richie? Do you want to suck some cock?” I didn’t answer, I just bent over as he was already sprawled on the mattress totally naked and it was a sight to see. He was corpulent and strong, hairy and butch with a big hard dick; how can I let that one pass me by? So I started to suck him.
Perdue was just in a semi-conscious state but I know he was enjoying the blow job because there was that smirk on his face that would turn into a smile from ear to ear every time his cock entered my mouth.
“Hey little buddy, that is so awesome, that feels so good” he said and when he said “hey little buddy” it reminded me of Hans. His cock also was about the size and girth of Hans’. So after I licked his chest and armpits and sucked him some more, I put some lube in my ass and sat on his cock. I started to ride him and Perdue now had a permanent smile on his face.
“Kiss me little buddy” and I bent over and kissed him. That is when he blew his load. He just exploded inside of me and the cum was so abundant that when I pulled out it all came gushing out in one voluminous whoosh. After he came, he just passed out and he woke up sometime after the party was over, that must have been around four in the morning and this time he just cuddled with me and eventually fucked me again.
Purdue said something to me that I will never forget: "You know little buddy...I am fat and big and not considered very attractive...but when I am with you, you make me feel beautiful."
I never saw Perdue again on campus or anywhere else. But that one was one bear I would have gone to bed again and again.
There was this one black dude that lived in the basement of Anarchy house. Looking at him was like stepping back into the sixties or early seventies. He sported a very full afro style hairdo and was hairy. He was not too dark; He was not too dark, having that delicious color of café au lait. I call it the color of sin, if sin had a color. His name was Tremaine and he was twenty years old. Tremaine’s favorite thing was to sixty nine. That is not my thing but he is the only one I have enjoyed doing a sixty nine with. What would happen is that we would make out like crazy; he would suck my dick and lick my chest. Then he let me suck his nipples and when I got to his armpits, he knew that was my fetish and he would not use deodorant when he had a date with me. His very black curly hair was like clumps in his underarms. Then we took the sixty nine position and Tremaine would get so turned on that he would actually shoot his wad. Of course, once I would feel all that love juice flowing I too would cum and he would swallow it savoring every drop.
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