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Internal Division (Pts 1&2)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Since I have regained my ability to post stories again, I thought
I'd go ahead and finish off _Internal Division_. For some unknown reason
I was cut off in December and was never able to post the last few parts
of it.
I'm sorry, but I can't repost any parts after this one time, so
you'll have to ask for some kind person from this group to repost any
that you might miss.
The following story is a work of fiction about events which
have sprung from the writer's imagination to electronic media.
You may distribute in electronic format with this header intact.
You may print out a copy for personal use. No part of this
story or the work as a whole can be sold or published anywhere
without the express written consent of the author at an41470.
_Internal Division_
by Mitchell Knight
Part One
The drive from his parents' estate to Thomas Marcourt college
was a long one at just over three hours, but it had been
peaceful and beautiful. Summer had begun to wind down, but the
foliage remained green and vibrant along the winding country
roads. Mitchell enjoyed staring out at this beautiful scenery
which lulled him into a pensive mood. He reflected on his
summer in France and the last big party his friends had thrown
for him before he left for college.
Only one city and a few small towns broke the entrancing forest
scenery as they headed toward Thomas Marcourt: a small all-male
private college with a reputation for academic excellence. It
was located in a small town with a bigger city about a 20 mile
drive north. It's remoteness contributed to its academic
mystique. With entertainment at such a distance, the men would
be forced to stay at the college and study.
"There it is, Mitch," William Knight, Mitchell's father, said,
pointing out the windshield at the building that had just peeked
out of the trees.
The campus looked just as it had in the brochures: compact and
well-kept with many stately buildings made from stone and brick.
Some of the buildings were over sixty years old yet remained in
good condition. With the exorbitant tuition, Mitchell imagined
that was how they could afford to keep the buildings looking so
good.
While Mitchell's parents were comfortably wealthy and could have
afforded to pay for the full cost of tuition, Mitchell had
received a scholarship which was defraying part of the cost.
Mitchell was still confused as to why he'd gotten the
scholarship.
His grades were above average, but not near enough to the top to
merit an academic scholarship. There had been a short
handwritten letter from the dean of the college, Jack Maroe,
describing this scholarship as a "special" incentive for
"students who show promise." Mitchell still wasn't sure what
that meant. Mr. Maroe had written that he would be interested
in meeting Mitchell after he had gotten settled into the college
routine. Mitchell thought that maybe the scholarship would be
explained further then.
The college's enrollment stayed at around fifteen hundred people
with very strict enrollment requirements, so Mitchell was
honored that he'd gotten in. People applied from all over the
country for a chance at this school. For some the cost didn't
even matter. They would sell their soul to pay to go to
Marcourt.
A couple of Mitchell's friends had applied as well and hadn't
gotten in, and Mitchell would miss those friends, but he looked
forward to the new ones he would make and the freedom college
offered.
They pulled up outside Parson Hall where young men in shorts and
T-shirts, or some just in shorts, entered the front door with
arms full of boxes. Similar residents came out with arms empty,
ready for the next load. Friends and parents milled about
helping them move in.
"This is it?" Claire, Mitchell's mother, asked skeptically.
"Yep. This is where I'll be living," Mitchell answered happily,
getting out of the car.
"Let's get you checked in," William suggested.
Mitchell nodded and entered the building with his father and
mother following. Once inside, Mitchell could smell the fresh
paint and smiled at the clean and new-looking interior.
"See, Mom, it's not that bad," Mitchell said.
"But darling, it was built in 1951," Claire protested, reading
the plaque beside the doors.
Mitchell ignored her and went to the desk and got checked in.
They were shown to his room which was located on the second
floor and three doors down from the bathrooms. Mitchell noticed
someone was moving in right next door to him.
"Hi," the guy greeted him.
"Hi," Mitchell said. He forced his eyes to keep from straying
to the guy's bare chest or crotch where his penis was clearly
outlined in the tight shorts.
He was really cute with short brown hair and bangs which lifted
and then fell to the right. He had warm brown eyes set in a
handsome squarish masculine face. His broad bare chest was
hairless and well-developed with squared pectorals and muscles
etched into his stomach.
"I'll stop by later," he returned as he headed down the hall
away from them.
"Okay."
Once inside his room, Mitchell signed the appropriate paperwork
and got the keys. Then William helped him move in while Claire
stayed out in the car and waited. Once he was all moved in,
Claire came up and looked at the room.
"Are you sure you'll be all right here?" she asked, still not
convinced. The living quarters were nothing like what Mitchell
was used to, and she was worried about her baby.
"Yeah, I'm sure," he answered, smiling.
"Do you want us to stay and take you out to dinner?" William
asked.
"No, that's okay," he answered. "You can go. I want to meet
some people."
"Okay. Here's some money if you need anything." He pulled out
his money clip and gave Mitchell a few hundreds.
"Will that be enough?"
"Sure," Mitchell answered.
"Okay, honey, we're going to go now. You call us if you need
anything," Claire said. She gave him a light hug and kissed him
lightly on the cheek. William gave him a firm handshake.
"Do as your mother says. Give us a call if you need anything,"
he said.
"I will."
"Good-bye," Claire said.
"'Bye."
After they left, Mitchell changed into shorts and then spent a
little time unpacking and getting things set up in his room.
The guy next door stopped by later as Mitchell was putting up
some of his prints.
"Cool, you're a Dali fan?" he asked from the doorway. Mitchell
almost dropped the hammer in surprise.
"Oh, sorry man," he chuckled at Mitchell's reaction. He stepped
forward and extended his hand. "My name's Gregg Saxton."
"Mitchell Knight," he answered, gasping his hand and giving it a
firm shake.
"Mind if I call ya Mitch for short?" Gregg asked.
"No problem. Either way is fine with me."
"So, you're a Dali fan then?" he asked again, glancing at the
print on the bed.
"Yeah, I love him. He's so weird. It's interesting to look at
too because I seem to find something new every time or I can
find some new meaning," Mitchell explained.
"I really like him too. I have a book of his art. You'll have
to check it out sometime."
"I will."
"Why don't I help you out with that?" Gregg asked, indicating
the picture.
"Sure, that'd be great."
Gregg picked up the frame and held it while Mitchell finished
pounding the nail into the wall. Then they mounted it and stood
back to admire their handiwork.
"You're a freshman, aren't you?" Gregg asked.
"Yeah. Are you?"
"Nope. Sophomore."
"What's your major?"
"American history. Yours?"
"English."
"What are you going to do? Teach?"
"I don't really know yet. I think I'd like to write, maybe."
"Really. Have you ever written anything before?"
"Yeah."
"What?"
"I've written some short stories. Fiction stuff that's kind of
horror and kind of fantasy."
"Could I read them sometime?"
"Sure."
They continued to talk and Mitchell found out a lot about
different classes and professors. They also found out some more
similarities between the two of them. They both liked to play
golf and tennis, and they both liked to visit art galleries.
Mitchell also found out that Gregg lifted weights which
explained his clearly defined chest.
"Well, it's been nice talkin' to you, but I should go take a
shower before I eat," Gregg said after they'd been talking for
almost an hour.
"Oh yeah. Where are you going to eat?" Mitchell asked.
"There's a little restaurant in town that most of the guys hang
out at. Do you want to join us?" he asked.
"Sure," Mitchell answered.
"Okay, I'll come by and pick you up on our way," Gregg said.
"That'd be great."
Mitchell really would have liked to follow Gregg into the shower
and see what he was hiding behind those shorts, but he thought
that would be way too obvious. He didn't want to turn Gregg off
by tipping him off to the fact that Mitchell had the hots for
him. He could turn out to be a really great friend, so Mitchell
didn't want to ruin it.
Gregg showered and dressed and then stopped by with a friend of
his named Tony Parol. Tony was a 5'9" hulk of a man with
bulging muscles. Mitchell later found out that he took his
weightlifting very seriously, and he and Gregg often went to the
weight room together. He had a youngish-looking face so that he
looked almost 15 (when he was actually 19) with spiky blond hair
and blue eyes.
On the way to the restaurant they stopped by another hall and
picked up Eric, another friend of Gregg's. Then they went to
eat. Mitchell had a good time at the restaurant where he got to
know Gregg's friends and Gregg a little better. They were all
older than Mitchell, so he got to find out more about the campus
and about the things that had gone on last year.
"Well, hello there, Tony, Gregg," a large man with dark orange
hair said, as he stepped up to their table.
"Hi, Richard," Gregg said in a resigned fashion.
Another guy followed right behind Richard. He was a couple
inches shorter than Richard, who was about 6'2". They were both
athletic guys, with Richard looking like he could be a football
player. His companion had brown hair and had blue slitted eyes.
"Who's your friend?" Richard asked, looking straight at Mitchell.
"This is Mitchell Knight," Gregg introduced. "Mitchell, this is
Richard Lord the third."
"You can call me Rich," he said, extending his hand. Mitchell
shook it.
"Or Dick," his companion interjected, chuckling.
"Nice to meet you," Mitchell said although he could tell from
Gregg's attitude that he didn't like Rich.
"I'm the president of student body. This is my VP, Paul
Horning," Rich said.
Mitchell shook his hand too.
"Maybe you'd be interested in helping out with student senate,"
Rich said.
"Maybe," Mitchell answered.
"Okay. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around. Think about it,"
Rich said.
Then good-byes were said, and the two men left.
"Stay away from him, Mitch," Gregg whispered across the table.
"Why?" he asked.
"That guy's nothing but trouble," Tony answered.
"What's wrong with him?" Mitchell asked.
"You don't want to know. Just stay away from him," Gregg warned.
Mitchell dropped the subject, and they returned to normal
conversation. Then they returned to the hall where Tony, Gregg,
and Mitchell played cards until late. Then Tony left, and Gregg
and Mitchell talked for a while longer until they decided to go
to bed.
* * *
"So what do you think of the fresh crop?" Richard asked,
stripping off his shirt and revealing his broad, hairy chest.
"Some pretty good lookin' ones," Paul admitted. He lay on the
bed watching Richard undress. Paul only wore a pair of shorts.
"Yeah. What did you think of that Mitchell Knight, Gregg's
friend?" Richard asked, tossing the shirt into the hamper.
"He's cute. Why, you after him?" Paul asked with a grin.
"I think so. C'mon, let's go take a shower upstairs. Maybe
he'll be there," Richard said.
"Okay."
Paul got off the bed and stripped off his shorts and grabbed a
towel. Richard wrapped a towel around his waist. Paul took the
soap and they went up the stairs to the second floor showers.
Richard grinned as they entered the shower room. One of the
stalls was in use and spreading a fine mist throughout the room.
They dropped off their towels in the changing room and then
chose the stall across from the active one and left the door
open.
Paul turned on the water and Richard began soaping up Paul's
chest as they kissed. Rich ran his hands over the patch of
brown hair between his lover's pectorals and then down his flat
stomach. He went around to Paul's lower back and grabbed his
firm hairless ass, pulling Paul flush against him.
They continued to kiss and run their hands over each other's
bodies as the anonymous man continued to shower across from
them, unaware of their activity. Rich continued to hope that it
was Mitchell, but for now any freshman would do.
When the guy shut off the water, Paul dropped to his knees (he
knew the routine) and engulfed Richard's seven inch hardon.
Opening the door to the shower, Tony Parol stepped out and
glanced over at them.
"Don't you two ever give up?" he asked in annoyance. Muscles
bulged everywhere on his hairless body. He shaved his entire
body, even his pubic area, to emphasize his muscles and penis,
which was average size.
"Nope, never," Rich answered.
Paul got up and chuckled.
"Do you want to join us?" Rich asked.
Tony shook his head. "I'll let some defenseless freshman fall
for this setup."
"Your loss," Rich said.
Tony shrugged and went to the changing room to dry off. Paul
kissed Rich and began to wash his chest covered with thick red
hair. After washing away the soap, he bent to Rich's left
nipple and bit it lightly. Rich gripped Paul's shoulders and
closed his eyes as Paul got to his knees and took Rich's
erection in his mouth again.
Paul fastened his lips around Rich's cock and let Rich fuck his
mouth. Paul tickled Rich's hairy balls and then found his anus.
He probed the opening with his forefinger and then thrust it up
his hole. Rich spread his legs wide and continued to thrust
into Paul's mouth.
Matching the tempo of Rich's thrusts, Paul forced the finger
faster and deeper into Rich.
"Nnh. Yeah," Rich moaned, driving into Paul's mouth faster now.
Paul thrust another finger into Rich's hairy butt and then
proceeded to put another one in when Rich froze and clenched at
Paul's shoulders. Warm salty semen poured into Paul's mouth as
Rich came. Paul swallowed it and then cleaned off Rich's penis.
"Get those fingers out of my ass and get your dick in there,"
Rich growled.
Eager to get off, Paul willingly obliged. Rich turned around
and bent over, spreading his legs wide. Paul lathered up Rich's
hairy anus and then slipped easily into him.
Paul pounded into Rich's ass while the water continued to spray
down on their bodies. Paul reached around to Rich's chest and
pinched his nipples as he continued to thrust in and out.
After Paul came, they finished their shower, the need for any
hot young freshmen gone for the time being.
Part 2
Mitchell woke fairly early the next morning in order to
register for classes. After the information Gregg had given him
about the professors and classes on campus, Mitchell felt pretty
good about making the right decisions about which classes to
take.
When Mitchell entered the shower room, he noticed a couple of
the showers were busy already. He took his time taking off his
shorts and underwear. Mitchell hoped he could catch one of the
guys walking from the shower to the changing room.
After using up all his excuses for staying in the changing room,
Mitchell entered, disappointed, one of the stalls and closed the
door. He showered with his dick half-hard at the thought of
seeing a naked guy after he finished.
When he heard one of the spigots shut off, Mitchell quickly
finished his shower and returned to the changing room to watch a
tall, lean, blond dry off. Mitchell thought he lived at the
other end of the hallway.
Mitchell finished drying off and wrapped the towel around his
waist. Gregg entered the room then carrying soap and shampoo.
A small towel was wrapped around his waist, and Mitchell could
see a large bulge in his crotch. His heart began to beat
faster, and he felt a little queasy.
"Hey, there, Mitch," Gregg murmured, blinking sleep out of his
eyes.
"Hi, Gregg," Mitchell forced out.
Without any notice, Gregg casually drew off his towel and threw
it over a hook. With no conscious control, Mitchell's eyes
flicked to Gregg's crotch where a thick penis nestled in a bed
of brown curls. Mitchell's glance immediately reverted back to
Gregg's face, but Gregg didn't appear to notice Mitchell's
straying look.
Mitchell allowed himself one look at the full, smooth, rounded
globes of Gregg's ass before he returned to his room and tried
to get his heart rate under control. Mental photographs
continued to play in his mind of what he'd just seen as he got
dressed.
His attention was focused back on school as he headed over to
the administration building to register. Tony was leaving as
Mitchell entered.
"Did you sign up for some weight training classes?" Mitchell
asked with a grin.
"You bet," Tony answered with a smile. "Gotta keep in shape."
He flexed a bulky bicep for Mitchell's approval.
"Of course."
"See ya later," Tony said.
"Yeah, see ya," Mitchell answered.
Inside the building, Mitchell found a few students standing in
two lines waiting to register. The first line had a big sign at
the end of it which said "Start Here." Mitchell decided that
looked like the place he wanted to be. Once he reached the
beginning of the line, he was given his advisor's name, a
registration card with his name on it, and a catalogue with all
the classes listed in it.
On his way over to one of the tables to look through the
catalogue, he glanced at the card with his advisor's name on it.
Dr. Timothy Blake. He was surprised that he actually recognized
the name. Gregg had suggested that professor to Mitchell the
night before because Gregg had taken an English class from him
and thought Dr. Blake was a really good professor.
Mitchell sat down at a table and looked through the book,
finding some English classes and some required classes that he
would like to take. He wrote these down on the card and noted
with satisfaction that a creative writing class was being taught
by Blake. Mitchell signed up for this class also.
Mitchell turned in his card at the second line. Only one of his
classes was full, so he had to go back and choose another one.
The entire process lasted only 20 minutes which Mitchell decided
was worth getting up early for. As he left, he noticed that the
lines had gotten longer.
After buying books, Mitchell ran into Gregg back at the dorm.
The image of Gregg naked that morning rose up in Mitchell's
mind, but he quickly shoved it back as he talked to his friend.
"Did you sign up for classes?" Gregg asked.
"Yeah. I signed up for a Creative Writing class with Dr.
Blake," Mitchell answered.
"Really? You'll like him. I thought he was a fun teacher."
"He's also my advisor," Mitchell added.
"You just lucked out. Usually advisors are these old farts who
don't have any idea what the real world is like 'cause they've
been here so long."
"I can't wait to meet this guy."
"You'll have to let me know what you think of him, since English
is your major. That way I'll get a professional opinion," Gregg
said, grinning.
"Sure," Mitchell answered, chuckling.
"When are you going to eat lunch?" Gregg asked.
"Oh, I don't care. When were you going to?"
"How about 11:30?"
"That's fine with me."
"I'll stop by and get ya," Gregg said, before he started off
away from Mitchell.
Mitchell nodded and went up to his room and dropped off his
books. Then he pulled out a notebook that he kept in his
underwear drawer and opened it up to where he'd left off the
night before he came to college. The notebook contained private
sex stories that Mitchell would write off and on for his own
pleasure.
Contained within the notebook was a year's worth of fantasies
that expressed what he felt within himself, but he hadn't yet
brought out into the flesh yet. They were about different guys
he knew in high school who he'd wanted to have sex with but had
never gotten the chance to. Now it was time to add a new story
to his private notebook: the shower room with Gregg.
Mitchell wove a steamy tale about what would have happened had
he dropped his own towel after Gregg dropped his. It included
hot sex in the shower stall and then more sex later on back in
Gregg's room. Mitchell maintained a raging hardon throughout
the entire time he wrote. A knock at his door much later was
the only thing that disturbed him.
"Be right there," Mitchell called.
He returned his secret notebook back to its hiding place before
opening the door to the object of his fantasy.
"Ready to go eat?" Gregg asked.
"Yep."
They went over to the cafeteria and joined a table full of guys
that Gregg knew, and Mitchell made some new friends that
afternoon. At lunch they formed a group to play volleyball
later on in the day.
* * *
"Hey, Mitch, do you want to go lift weights with Tony and I?"
Gregg asked, poking his head in the doorway.
"Oh, no thanks, Gregg. I told Jim that I would stop by tonight
and play some cards," Mitchell answered.
"Okay. Maybe some other time."
"Yeah, sure."
Gregg left and picked up Tony in his room on the way over to the
Physical Education building. They went up to the weight room.
It was largely deserted when they arrived; only two other people
were using it at the time.
Tony and Gregg went to work toning up their bodies, and after a
while they had built up a pretty good sweat. By this time the
other two guys had left. Gregg glanced over to Tony and noticed
that he had an erection which was poking at his tight
sweatshorts.
"I can't understand you. You get a hardon every time we come
here. What is so arousing about this place?" Gregg asked.
"The smell," Tony answered, taking an audible sniff. "And the
weights: raw steel, power. And I like the way it feels when I
stretch my muscles to the limit.
"Oh, and the guys aren't that bad lookin' either."
He said the last with an endearing impish grin which looked
innocent on his youngish face.
"Like me?" Gregg asked, leaving his spot and swaggering over to
Tony.
"You're not too bad. Not enough bulges though," Tony answered.
"Like this bulge?" he asked, grabbing Tony's erection.
"Ahhh...yeah, like that one," Tony answered, grinding his firm
instrument into Gregg's hand.
"Should we go to the locker room?" Gregg asked.
"Good idea. I'm really horny," Tony answered.
They left the weight room and returned to the empty locker room,
shedding their shirts as they went. Tony sat down on a bench
and unlaced and took off his shoes. He pulled off his socks and
then stood up and took off his shorts and jockstrap.
"Should I oil you up?" Gregg asked, opening his locker and
tossing his shirt in.
"Yeah," Tony answered.
He went to his own locker and opened it. He took out the body
oil he used for just such occasions and walked naked over to
Gregg. A fine trail of perspiration ran down between Tony's
well-defined pectorals. His erection stood out at a 45 degree
angle from his body. This short, thick member bounced slightly
as he walked.
Gregg pulled off the rest of his clothes and took the oil from
Tony. He poured some into his hand and then ran it over Tony's
broad, taut shoulder and down his hard chest. He continued to
pour and spread the oil, covering the hard planes and round
globes of his body. His hands caressed Tony's firm buttocks and
slid between his cheeks to rub his hole.
Then he spread the oil over Tony's sturdy hairless legs and up
to his crotch. He covered the little hairless sac which hugged
the base of Tony's erection. Gregg bathed Tony's penis and
hairless pubis until it glistened.
Stepping back, Gregg admired his slick creation. Tony commenced
flexing his muscles for his one man audience. Gregg sat on the
bench and watched with an indulgent smile.
Finishing his show, Tony straddled the bench but remained
standing. He stood about two feet away from Gregg as he took
his erection in hand. He slowly stroked his slick cock while
watching Gregg.
"Touch yourself," Tony said.
Gregg's hand went to his crotch and began to toy with the head
of his cock as Tony continued to masturbate.
"I'm going to shoot on you," Tony said.
"Do it. Shoot your stuff on me," Gregg urged, playing Tony's
game.
"I'm going to. I'm gonna shoot all over you."
His hand pistoned faster as it made love to his penis. Gregg's
penis began to lengthen as he continued to tease it.
"Oh yeah, I'm gonna come. I'm gonna shoot gallons," Tony
continued.
"Do it."
"Okay...here...it come--ahhhh"
He froze and muscles bulged as the first shot of semen erupted
from his cock. It landed just above Gregg's left nipple. Tony
returned to his stroking as the next spurts came peppering
Gregg's chest and belly.
When Tony finished, he leaned in and gave Gregg a soft kiss.
Then he sat down and bent his head to Gregg's chest where Tony's
semen dribbled down his flesh. Tony's tongue flicked out and
caught the first glob, and he licked it up.
Tony traveled around Gregg's chest and lapped up the rest of his
semen. Then he sniffed under Gregg's armpits, deeply inhaling
his sharp male odor. He nipped lightly at this delicate flesh
before burying his head in Gregg's crotch to suck on the eight
inch erection.
As he treated Gregg to a whirlpool blowjob, he kneaded the
muscles and skin of Gregg's thighs. Almost as if he thought he
could will the orgasm out of Gregg this way, Tony increased the
force of his thigh massage. When Gregg came, Tony eagerly
slurped up the sweet white treat.
"We better hit the showers. We're both real sweaty," Gregg
suggested.
"Will you wash my back?" Tony asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
They got up and headed for the empty showers.
End Part 2
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