Knockin’ Boots on Greek Row

September 28, 2022

Knockin’ Boots on Greek Row

I'VE KEPT MY HOLE SHUT ABOUT MY ONE-NIGHT STAND WITH MY FRATERNITY BROTHER... UNTIL NOW. 

By Spencer Jenkins

With all of its twang, traditions, and tales, southern fraternity culture embodies more than just ritualistic secrets of brotherhood — it’s also peppered with homoeroticism and a lot of hush-hush hanky panky.

The beautifully vulgar storylines like “rush week gang bangs” and “haze his hole” aren’t simply made up by porn producers — every kink and fetish has an origin story. Are they a tad exaggerated on screen? Maybe, but that doesn’t make the idea of beefy-frotting frat bros any less hot.

For many of us, the “unattainable straight bro” is the unicorn of the gay male sexual fantasy. Throw a frat tat on his calf and a crushed beer can on his forehead, and let the toxic masculine pheromones take over your soul.

So what is it about the bondage of brotherhood that gets us so hot? 

I attended a university in Kentucky and joined a fraternity in my freshmen year. The frat house was fairly bro-y and — intentionally or not — homoerotic. The spouting of “no homo” while smacking each other's asses after a game of intramural football was routine.

I swooned over a twinky-otterish new brother named Corey, who was at the ripe age of 18. When we first met, I was a junior. It didn’t take me long to sniff out his curiosity and start batting my cruisey eyes at him. 

Boys will always be boys, and that means curiosity. With the powder keg of high testosterone levels and excessive alcohol under one roof, razzing can turn quickly into experimentation. A housemate flashing his junk from under a towel post-shower might be your first time seeing another dude's goods.

Or like one year, on the evening before a party. We had a lineup for the incoming pledges. Corey was taking his role as a “hazer” quite seriously, up in the new boys' faces screaming about how worthless they were when they couldn't recite the Greek alphabet before his lit match died. 

With each bark of his voice, my butthole winced. 

“You’ll never be good enough to wear the letters of my brothers!” he shouted. Spit droplets fell off his slightly lisped words onto the pledges' faces.

My dick grew hard in my khakis. 

After the pledges were dismissed to prepare hooch for the sorority girls attending our party, I found Corey outside drunk on Early Times and Jell-o shots, smoking a cig. 

Sooner or later, we took shots of the cheap bourbon, leading to some playful wrestling. Then once on the ground, I straddled him, and I felt something thick growing under my ass. I loved it, but I continued “wrestling” and said with my eyes, “are you feeling this?”

We stand up, dust off, and walk away.

The sexual tension lives on for months until one day, on Halloween, it happens.

"Seems like we're both zombies tonight," I said. 

"Looks like it," he replied. "Hey, I need to cut some holes into this T-shirt to make it look like I'm legit Walking Dead – will you help me?"

I followed him up the frathouse stairs, turned on by the swishing of his firm ass. I caught myself thinking how good it would taste. 

Once in his room, I slowly press my left hand on his chest to balance myself as I take the scissors and begin cutting. Each strip of his Hanes white T-shirt gone reveals tanned skin with sprouts of dark hair.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” I said under my breath.

“What was that?” he asked.

I stood there in pure panic. He grabbed me through my jeans and sternly asked, "You think I've never seen you look at me before?"

He walks away to lock the door. Suddenly I am now the star of “haze his hole.”  In full Halloween costume, in the upstairs bedroom of the fraternity house, my frat bro crush is pounding me, and I am in heaven.

No one finds out, and it’s never spoken of again.

Like the edging and final climax of Corey and me, fraternities are built on the relationships of men trusting other men… sometimes that trust is built on not making a bukkake party out of these secret sexcapades.

We take a vow during initiation that says, “I will never speak ill of another brother or his family.” Some secrets are better kept safe — whether that be the elephant walk the pledges did down sorority row, the alcohol hazing during bid night, or getting your hole fucked raw by your bro.