Date: Tue, 24 Nov 2009 18:46:57 -0800 (PST)
From: Peder Pederson <pederdagreat@yahoo.com>
Subject: A tree, chapert 2

II
A Seedling


	One year ago - - - -
	"What did you think of the Hall?" came a question which shook him
from his reverie.
	"Pardon?" He glanced towards the source of the voice and saw the
'matsaleh.'
	"What did you think of the Hall? Quite beautiful, I think" the
young man said with a smile.
	"Yes, very impressive and the acoustics are quite good," Harish
replied also smiling.
	"If you're not waiting for some one . . . can I join you? I'm new
in town."
	"Of course. Please, do," Harish said indicating the empty chair
across from him.


	Saturday, six years before - - - -
	Harish arrived at Grinnell late in August. He was tired from the
long flights--actually nearly exhausted. He was met at the airport with a
college van. His wonder and interest kept him awake and alert as he was
driven from the Des Moines airport to the north Iowa community. He was
surprised at the heat and humidity, not unlike Selangor. The driver of the
van stated that this was an unusually hot August, but the cool weather
would soon come.
	There would be so many things that were to assault his senses and
sensibilities, that he wondered at times whether he could keep his sanity!
But, he did manage.
	His eyes were glued to the landscape, low rolling hills with acres
and acres of the same plants--either two meter high corn, dark green and
wilting somewhat in the heat or soy beans. The farms seemed huge! Bigger
than any he had seen in Selangor. "As big as the plantations back home," he
thought.
	The farm-yards were the size of the farms that he was used to. And,
the houses . . . ! The farm houses where like the bungalows of the rich
back home, with bigger sheds (barns) and all manner of machinery. They all
looked prosperous, no, rich! He was in awe.
	With little ceremony and warm familiarity, he was welcomed to the
campus and shown his dorm room. He was surprised and enormously proud to
see in the card slot of the door his name: "Harish A/L Kumar." Just over
his name was another name: "Richard Burkhardt." By his standards the
accommodations were roomy, bordering on the palatial. Although, later in
the week he heard most of his other dorm mates complain of the cramped
quarters! The room contained two twin beds, two dressers for their clothes,
two desks and a closet which contained a partition down the middle.
	"Wow, spacious!" he thought. It was nearly as big as the "hall"
back home, the area where his brothers and sisters had slept at night and
where the family gathered and ate during the day.
	After he unpacked his single largish suitcase, he noticed that his
clothes barely filled two of the four drawers of the dresser and barely
half of his closet portion, he walked down the hall to the
toilets. Actually the dorm counselor had referred to it as a "bathroom,"
even the door was labeled "bathroom." He entered. There was a room with six
sinks and mirrors on one wall and four toilet stalls on the opposite
wall. At the end of the room was another opening. He walked through and was
a bit taken back--it was the shower! But unlike Malaysian shower rooms,
this one was a single largish room, maybe three meters by three meters with
three shower heads and faucets on each of the walls except the one with the
doorway.
	"No curtains?" he thought.
	The Malaysians are relatively modest, in fact, quite modest. Nudity
is something tolerated only between lovers, generally, and then frequently
only under the cover of darkness. Among peers, never, even of the same
sex--Harish had never seen his brothers nude much less a classmate! Of
course the exception was Brad, but that didn't count. He was a crazy
matsaleh. But now, he was living in the matsaleh world!
	That night he put on his sarong, opened the windows, "They have
screens!" he muttered in surprise. He flopped down on the soft bed and
slept 'til noon the next day. He was awakened when the room door opened. He
quickly sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced at the young man
entering.
	"You must be Harish," he said, offering his hand, "from Malaysia?
I'm Dick Burkhardt, chem major. When did you arrive?"
	"Late yesterday afternoon," Harish managed to get out as he shook
Dick's hand.
	"How long was your flight?" came another question.
	"Ahh . . . twenty-three hours flying . . . and, ahh
. . . thirty-two hours altogether," he managed.
	"Shit! man, go back to bed!" Dick said with well meaning bravado.
	"No, I'm all right now," Harish replied. That was a half lie, but
the adrenaline coursing through him now more than made up from the
fatigue. Then he added, "Do you need any help?"
	"No, thanks." Dick and dropped two large suitcases on the bed, "My
little brother is the pack horse today." Saying that an adolescent copy of
Dick entered the room carrying an obviously heavy box.
	"Where do you want this, Bro?" he asked.
	Dick motioned to the desk and said, "Tommy, this is my roommate,
Harish . . . he's from Malaysia."
	"Hi," Tommy said.
	"Hello, Tommy," Harish answered.
	Tommy disappeared and returned two more times, carrying boxes. The
last time he was followed by Dick's mother bearing several small decorated,
tin boxes (which later turned out to hold delicious cookies and cakes) and
his father carrying a bundle of clothes on hangers.
	Harish, had by then put on a shirt and combed his sleep tousled
hair. He was ceremoniously introduced to Dick's parents who were warm and
open people. They politely asked Harish about Malaysia, his trip, his
intended field of study and then excused themselves only to return two
hours later. They took Dick and Harish to a small restaurant in town for
dinner and then left for a three hour drive back to their home.
	Dick Burkhardt was a sophomore chemistry major. Tall, well over six
feet, medium build, one-hundred-eighty pounds, sandy blond hair and the
bluest eyes Harish had ever seen. He was almost handsome--good looking was
the term Harish considered. His smile was infectious and he flashed it
regularly. It was apparent, later that evening, that Dick was well known
and well liked. Harish decided that he was lucky to have Dick as a room
mate. Actually, one of the college's traditions was to pair an incoming
foreign student with an established, outgoing student to aid in the
difficult transition. Yes, Harish was lucky. Fortuitously, he and Dick were
well paired.
	"Have you seen the campus?" Dick asked.
	"No, not really," Harish answered. So Dick became his guide and the
walked through the campus--a mixture of older and newer buildings.
	Harish was bordering on sensory overload when Dick said, "Harish,
you look beat! Best go back to the dorm. You'll have a big day tomorrow."
	Harish merely said, "Yes, I think you're right." They returned to
the dorm.
	Harish was exhausted and he needed to shower. Before entering his
room he went to the bathroom to piss. As he entered he was greeted with a
small assembly of other students, washing brushing their teeth and
talking. Several of them were completely and unabashedly naked!
Embarrassed, Harish averted his gaze, entered one of the stalls and
relieved himself. Rinsing his hands quickly, he left the bathroom and went
down the hall to his room. He opened the door only to be greeted by Dick
standing in front of his dresser, retrieving a towel from one of the
drawers--he too, was completely naked!
	"Sorry," Harish muttered as he quickly turned to his own dresser
and wiped his hands on a towel that was laying there.
	"Hey, man! No problem," Dick said with a smile. He wrapped the
towel about his waist and left the room.
	Quickly, Harish took off his shirt, stepped into his sarong,
grasped its upper edge in his teeth and then striped off his pants and
underwear beneath the covering. He deftly wrapped and tucked the sarong
about his waist and busied himself tidying up his area.
	"I will shower later," he said to himself. He could not bare
himself to all those strangers! He lay on the bed, cradling his head in his
arms and began to reminisce over the past two days. Almost instantly he
fell asleep.
	Later, he woke with a start. It was dark in the room. He could hear
Dick's regular breathing as his room mate slept. Quickly and silently he
got up, took his towel and slipped out of the room.
	He glance up at the hall clock, "2:30!" he said to himself, "must
have been more tired than I thought." He entered the deserted bathroom,
relieved, he quickly showered, dried, returned to the room and fell asleep
again 'til the next morning. This was a routine that Harish began to
practice for the sake of his own modesty.
	Slowly he awoke to the quiet bustle of other students in the
hall. He turned, opened his eyes, tried to focus and was greeted by Dick's
stretching form. Again he was without clothing! At this level, Harish could
not avoid the sight of Dick's cock--limp, downward hanging, pink with blue
veins subtly showing, circumcised head of substantial proportions nestling
against an opulent ball sack. And! All surrounded by blondish cock hairs!
Harish was momentarily transfixed. He had seen the occasional blond in
Malaysia, but he never considered that their pubic hair would, likewise, be
blond as well. It simply had not entered his mind!
	"Morning," Dick muttered. Sleep still hooded his voice.
	"Morning," Harish muttered, quickly looking up at Dick's face, and
then he turned on his back, staring at the ceiling. He willed the relict of
that cock from his mind. Several minutes later, he went to the bathroom,
washed his hands and face, brushed his teeth and returned to the room.


	Some days later, after supper, Harish was sitting, cross legged on
his bed reading a departmental brochure when Dick entered.
	"Hi," Harish greeted him.
	"Hi," came the reply, as Dick walked over to his own bed and sat
down facing Harish. "We've got to talk . . . . "
	Harish knitted his brows with concern as he looked into Dick's blue
eyes.
	"I was talking to Prof. Wilkins . . . " Professor Wilkins was the
Freshmen counselor. Dick continued, "He told me that people in Malaysia are
. . . were . . . overly modest . . . . I mean . . . . about nudity."
	Harish could only nod his head slightly and blush.
	"Well, we in America aren't. I guess we feel that in the right
place and circumstance, it's natural. After all God gave us all the same
things." Dick paused.
	Harish remained silent.
	"I've noticed that you shower late at night when no one else is
around. That's okay. That's your own business!" Again he paused, then
continued, "I sleep in the nude. Always have. Can't sleep any other way
. . . . I'm sorry if it bothers you!"
	"No, that all right," Harish lied.
	"Well, in the future, I'll try to cover myself when you're
around. Okay?"
	Harish was confused and touched at the consideration Dick
exhibited. He had been told, briefly, about this "custom" by the Johnson's
as well as many other things in their attempt to prepare him. They had said
that the Americans were very "open," frequently allowed their emotions to
show, were generally friendly, and always seemed to be in a hurry! Harish
accepted their well meaning orientation, but until he experienced the many
vagaries of American culture--the "preparations" were meaningless! Still,
the facing of this problem, his problem, head on was difficult for
him. Nonetheless, Harish was touched at Dick's concern.
	"No, that's not necessary!" Harish said slowly and
deliberately. "I'm a guest in this country. You don't change the way you do
things, for me. I must learn to adjust!"
	However, Harish did notice that in the future Dick was careful not
to walk around the room nude while he was there. He appreciated the act,
and, when Harish did enter and Dick was nude, the latter nonchalantly
covered himself.
	At first, this open attitude, this unabashed nudity was so alien to
Harish! But, he noticed a subtle shifting in his own attitude, or at least
his reaction. What with the nude dorm mates in the bathroom, in the shower,
or even some walking down the hall to the bathroom, he noticed that he no
longer felt unduly shocked. He began to accept this state of
affairs. Certainly, when entering the locker room at the first meeting of
his Physical Education class, he had never seen so many naked men in one
place in his life. The first time, he felt the blood drain from his head,
he even thought that he would faint, but, he didn't!
	Harish had always assumed that nudity was sexual. Yet in the
familiar surroundings of the dorm and the locker room, both all male, it
was obvious that nudity in these situations, among members of the same sex
was not sexual. It was accepted to the point that it was ordinary. He began
to become accustomed to the sight of nude men standing around or talking
naturally, unabashedly one with the other. Yet, when he changed his own
school clothes to his gym suit, he did so quickly, always trying to keep
himself covered. No none seemed to mind. No one said anything. He always
showered last--luckily he had a free hour after his gym class!
	The relationship between he and Dick and grown quickly. It was a
fortuitous pairing. Dick was naturally an open person, sharing with Harish
many of his feelings and hopes. They talked a lot together in the evenings
before they went to sleep. Event the normally reticent Harish began to
reveal some his feelings--layer by layer. He became aware of the ease that
he began to reveal himself and, often, the relief that the unburdening
brought.
	Indeed the nudity issue paled until it was no longer an
issue--merely something that was! Harish accepted Dick's nudity. As to his
own nudity, he no longer frantically grabbed for any cover when, on those
isolated occasions, Dick should enter while Harish was changing and was
exposed. Between Harish and Dick there was a naturalness, a bond that was
growing.
	Several months later, Harish had returned from a late afternoon hot
shower. The bathroom was usually not busy at that time, and besides the
first blasts of cold winter air had descended upon the campus--he needed to
warm his unnaturally chilled body. He was drying his hair when Dick
entered.
	He greeted Dick with a, "HI," and uncharacteristically continued
drying his hair, not trying to cover himself.
	Dick noticed the significance of the change of manner and in an
off-hand way said, "My, aren't we being brazen today!"
	Without haste, Harish wrapped the towel about his waist and
answered in a similar off-handed manner, "Well, you know, when in Rome
. . . ."
	Dick smiled and nodded his head an emptied his book-bag on his
desk.
	One night, later that week, as Harish padded to the bathroom
wrapped in his towel, he met Dick, similarly attired returning to the room.
	"Shower's empty," Dick said in passing and with a wink.
	"Lucky me," replied Harish.
	He showered quickly and returned to the room. Dick was standing at
his dresser, combing his blond hair, his towel lay crumpled at his
feet. Harish closed the door, whipped off his towel and began to dry his
hair. He too stood in front of his dresser and began to comb his wavy,
black hair. Harish saw the reflection of Dick in his small mirror, and saw
him turn to regard him briefly.
	"You know," he began, "we've become pretty good friends. . . "
	Harish continued combing his hair and glancing at Dick's
reflection.
	Dick continued, "It's funny, we coming from two different
cultures. We're sort of a Damon and Pythius, Frick and Frack, Abbott and
Costello."
	"What?" Harish queried, turning to face his room-mate. He was
vaguely familiar with Damon and Pythius, but had no idea who Frick and
Frack or Abott and Costello were!
	"Well, we're opposite in some ways, but in other ways we're pretty
much alike." He continued, "Look," motioning to the nearly full-length
mirror on the back of the door, "We're about the same height and weight
. . ." saying this Dick took Harish's shoulder and turned him 'til he faced
the mirror.
	In the ensuing second or two, Harish viewed the two reflections. He
had never really regarded himself that way before--mainly because he had
never had the opportunity. At home there was but a small, cracked mirror,
and the asrama there were mirrors over the sinks, never one this large!
First, he self consciously looked at his reflection, then at Dick's and
then back at his own. This he did several times. He noted that they were
both within a quarter of an inch of each other in height, both about the
same weight--Harish weighed one-hundred-seventy-five pounds--and both were,
"Good looking, but not handsome," Harish thought.
	He categorized to himself the two reflected bodies with
dispassion. Dick was fair with only the slightest tan marks bracketing his
milky white mid-section--his skin was mahogany in color, all over. Dick had
slightly curly, blond hair and blue eyes--his hair was curlier, black and
his eyes were dark brown. Dick's nose was prominent, not big, but arched
somewhat in the middle, aquiline--his nose was straight, from the bridge
with small, but flaring nostrils. Dick's mouth was full-lipped and
pink--his was also full-lipped but dusky. Dick possessed no hair on his
upper trunk--he had a dusting of silky black hairs across his chest. Dick's
nipples were quarter sized and pink--his were bigger and tinged with
purple. Dick's pubic hair was dark blond--his was black and thick. Dick's
cock was cut, pink, slightly pendulous, pale blue veined, with a big head,
all nested against plum-sized balls--his was uncut, with a purplish tinge
to the mahogany skin-covering, a
 slight puckered extension of the foreskin, pendulous, with an ample head
and balls slightly smaller than Dick's, but hanging downward,
farther. Dick's thighs were muscular and covered with curly hair, lighter
than that of his pubic area--his thighs were not as muscled, but well
formed, nonetheless, and his thighs were free of the black, silky, body
hair. Their lower legs and calves were equal in size, except Dick's was
covered with hair and his was lightly dusted.
	After the brief second or two it took to make the inventory, Harish
said, "Sorry! I see more dissimilarities than similarities."
	"That's just covering, look inside," Dick said as he placed his arm
across Harish's shoulders.
	Many times in the past in Malaysia, Harish had walked with his
friends, their arms thrown across each other's shoulder reveling in their
camaraderie. That was natural. But, never had he done it in the nude! His
body twitched slightly. He was a bit embarrassed. Dick instantly became
aware of the reaction.
	"Hey, man!" he said dropping his arm and stepping away, "Don't get
nervous . . . I'm not making a move on you!" Then he added with a smirk,
"You're not my type!"
	Harish, with a little embarrassment, quickly recovered his demeanor
and parried, "Oh, darn! Just when I had a little hope." He reached for his
sarong and stepped into it.
	Dick aware of the passing, minor trauma, nodded at the sarong and
added, "Besides I don't go for guys who wear skirts!"
	Quickly, Harish took the offensive, "Oh, so you go for guys without
skirts?"
	"Shit!" was the only reply he got, but it was punctuated with a
grin.


	There were many things with which Harish worked to accommodate into
his being. One practice he could not! The drinking of beer! Most Hindus
eschewed alcohol. Several times Harish tried to drink beer, but he found
the taste completely unpalatable.
	Towards the end of the first semester a situation occurred that
caused Harish to swear off alcohol all together. Dick had had a minor role
in one of the theatrical productions on campus--Shakespeare's Julius
Caesar. After the last show there was a 'cast party.' Dick insisted that
Harish attend.
	"You've been spending too much time studying. You need to unwind a
little," he told Harish.
	Reluctantly, Harish agreed. The party was at the apartment of a
theater major, an upper-classmen. When they arrived, they were met at the
door by the host, wearing a Roman-style toga.
	He handed Dick and Harish a folded white piece of cloth, saying,
"This is a toga party! You can go to the bedroom and change."
	Harish glanced at Dick in dismay. Dick said, "Not to worry. It's
okay."
	After they donned their toga and adjusting it so that their
underwear did not show, they returned to the crowded living room. Most of
the party 'goers,' some fifteen or twenty, had been there for an hour
before Dick and Harish had arrived. Harish noticed that a number of them
were slightly tipsy. A pretty, and obviously tipsy, coed came up to Dick
and planted a moist kiss on his lips. Dick responded.
	"Hi, Maureen," came Dick's breathless greeting.
	With the speed of an adder, Maureen lifted Dick's toga, "No fair!"
she blurted out so all could hear her, "You're wearing underwear!"
	Several others shouted over the din, "Shame, shame!"
	Just as promptly, Maureen lifted her toga and revealed that she was
not wearing any underwear.
	Harish's eyes bugged and his mahogany skin tone took on a decidedly
flushed hue. He had never seen a grown woman nude. Maureen's boldness
shocked him!
	Then she turned to Harish, saying, "Are you wearing underwear too?"
	She reached for Harish's hem, but was quickly blocked as Dick
grabbed her wrist saying, "Remember, when in Rome . . ." and he led her
away.
	Robert Lindsay, the host walked up to Harish and handed him a cool
class filled with some amber liquid. "Have some artillery punch," then he
added, "You must be Harish, Dick's roommate?"
	"Thanks, yes," he replied and took a mouthful of the drink. It had
a strange taste, sweet, fruity and obviously alcoholic.
	"I'm Bob Lindsay."
	"Yes, you were Brutus. Good job." Harish didn't know what else to
say. This was the first play that he had ever seen.
	"Thanks," Bob replied and added, "You lie beautifully."
	"No, Really!"
	Bob gently patted Harish's cheek and cooed. "Your sweet." Then he
walked away.
	Harish took another swallow of the drink. "Not bad," he admitted to
himself.
	The party continued. After talking with numerous people, and after
the second glass of punch, Harish felt distinctly light headed. He looked
around the room. It was strangely, slightly out of focus. He stood against
a wall for balance. A coed with long dark walked up to him.
	"Hi," she murmured. She was also tipsy. "You're cute'" she
whispered into his ear as she leaned against Harish.
	He could feel the warm heat of her body as it pressed against
his. The touch infused him with with her warmth and a rising passion. It
was strangely exciting and he became aware that he was getting excited!
Suddenly he felt her warm hand pressed against his growing cock.
	"Oooo . . . that's nice," she whispered in his ear as she began to
manipulate his dick.
	The feeling was wonderful, the circumstances were not. In
embarrassment, he twisted away and offered the half-truth, "Sorry, I've got
to go the the toilet." He disappeared down the narrow hall, took the last
swallow from his glass and entered the bathroom.
	Upon finishing Harish went into the bedroom, collapsed on the bed,
spread-eagled for support and tried to will the room to stay still. It
rocked and tilted, and then began to rotate slowly. He closed his eyes.
	Some time later he was experiencing a rare erotic dream. The
sensation which centered in his cock was incredible! He had never fucked a
woman before, but in his dream stupor he knew that it must feel like this!
He began to ascend to wakefulness, which often happened with these type of
dreams, and tried to will himself back into the lascivious, sex-charged
dream state.
	But, he failed! He mounted upwards through the layered miasma to a
wakeful state. Yet, the sensations continued! They were wonderful, they
were incredible, they were compelling! Harish opened his eyes and glanced
down at the source of all this delicious, erotic pleasure.
	In the dim light of the bedroom he tried to focus. With great
effort. A bobbing head came into view. The luxurious feeling continued as
he mounted higher and higher towards that pinnacle of ultimate release. He
opened his eyes wide in an effort to gain a crisp focus.
	What he saw, or thought he saw, was, Bob Lindsay!
	His mouth was opened wide to accommodate Harish's thick, long,
bluish mahogany colored cock. His cock was imprisoned between the taunt,
full pink lips of Bob's mouth. It looked as though Bob's head was impaled
upon his hard, throbbing cock!
	Up and down the head bobbed as Bob mouth fucked Harish's
substantial and rigid cock.
	Harish said to himself, "Surely, I am dreaming!"
	Yet, he was too close to cuming to make any effort to stop Bob's
wonderful ministrations. His head dropped back on the bed as he anticipated
that delicious, galvanic release that was building to a climax in his
loins. The sensation of Bob's hot, moist mouth enclosing the length of his
cock was a sensation that exceeded description.
	Suddenly! the stimulus reached its zenith and a cosmic explosion
came! He shot load after load of hot, scorching cum deep into that warm,
moist sucking throat. A rivulet of his opalescent, lustral fluid escaped
from the sucking mouth and rolled down the shaft into the glistening,
black, cock hairs.
	The release was incredible! Even in his drunken state, he was aware
that what he had just experienced was so pervasive and all-inclusive as to
dim all other experiences. Every fiber of his body relaxed, and he again
fell into deep sleep.
	Dick had seconds before come to the door of the bedroom, looking
for Harish. The sight before his besotted eyes seized his complete
attention. He watched as Bob sucked the figure on the bed. The light was
too dim to recognize the lolling head. All Dick could see, anyway, was the
bobbing head and he was aware of the wet, sucking sounds. He watched as Bob
stood up, flipped the toga back across the prostrate figure and turned to
leave.
	"Just a little midnight snack," Bob leered as he angled past Dick
and the disappeared into the bathroom.
	"No problem," was all Dick could answer in his state. He knew Bob's
reputation. It was no secret across campus the Robert Lindsay was gay. He
had even tried to make a move on Dick once, which he quickly and firmly
rebuked.
	Only then, when the half light had finally fallen across the
complete figure and face, did Dick recognize, "Harish!"
	He walked over to the bed and looked down. Harish was in deep
alcohol and post orgasmic slumber.
	"Damn, that son-of-a-bitch!" he uttered, half out loud--referring,
of course to Bob. He knew that Harish was not used to liquor, and the punch
was pretty potent. He reached down and shook Harish's shoulder.
	"Come on, Harish . . . time to go."
	Harish merely gave a low groan and turned onto his side.
	"Come on, Harish, we've got to get going!" This time he grabbed his
roommate's shoulders and tried to wrest him into a sitting position.
	Harish's head lolled, and his eyes opened, unfocused.
	"Hi . . . . D . . Dick?" he stammered in his drunkenness, "Time to
. . . go?"
	"Yeah, come on guy . . . get up. Help me!"
	Harish rose to his feet, but his knees would not lock and he
slumped in Dick's arms. After a second attempt he was able to stand,
unsteadily. Dick unwrapped the toga, keeping one steadying hand on Harish,
and let it fall to the floor. It was then that he noticed Harish's briefs
were around his knees.
	"Sonofabitch," he uttered again and tried to pull the briefs up
over Harish's ass and detumescent cock. He couldn't help but notice its
impressive size, even in this state.
	"W . . .what . . .you . . . doin?" Harish queried drunkenly.
	"Your underwear came down," he lied.
	"Oh . . "
	Dick got Harish dressed and back to the dorm with no small amount
of trouble. He let him flop on his bed fully clothed, covered him with a
blanket, undressed, and climbed into bed himself.


	Harish awoke early, his mouth was dry and he was aware of a
terrible thirst. He rolled to get out of bed and was instantly assaulted
with a blinding, pounding pain in his head. He gasped. Slowly he opened his
eyes and focused them. Dick was laying on his back half off his bed across
the narrow width of the room. At one point in his sleep he had thrown the
bed covers off his body. He, of course, was nude. Harish had become
accustomed to that. Not only was he nude, but his impressive cock pointed
straight up in rigid attention. Harish, too, had become somewhat less
accustomed to this sight.
	The sight of that hard cock brought a vague relict to his mind of
the near past. He groaned, swung his legs off the bed and slowly sat
up. Only then did he notice that he was fully clothed. Ever so slowly he
got to his feet, steadying himself on the edge of his dresser, he reached
for the towel and edged to the door. The slightest movement made his head
pound.
	He thought, "I'm going to die!"
	He shuffled to the bathroom and into the showers. Turning on the
cold tap Harish stood under the shower head. He didn't even bother to
undress. Somehow, the cold water brought a little relief to the pounding in
his head.
	Twenty minutes later, Harish entered the room, the towel was draped
over his head and water dripped from his soaked clothing, forming little
puddles where he stood.
	Dick had awakened earlier, swung his legs out of the bed, dragged
the blanket over his piss-hard and was holding his head in his hands when
Harish entered. He looked up.
	"Good God!" he burst into laughter and managed to continue, "You
look like shit!"
	"I'm dying!" was all Harish could say.
	"Hell," exploded between fits of laughter, "You've just got a good
hangover."
	"I'M . . . . DYING," Harish spit out between clenched teeth.


	Later that day, still suffering from a headache, which was
considerably less intense, Harish announced from his bed, "I'll never drink
alcohol again!" And, he didn't!
	His pronouncement came not only from the pain that he had suffered,
but also from his "experience" at the party! As the effects of the alcohol
lessened, his memory of the previous night heightened. Not totally, but
enough. Harish couldn't justify the pleasure that Bob's sucking mouth had
brought him.
	Neither Dick nor Harish alluded to that party ever again. Both were
confused about what had happened. Their friendship grew over the next two
years, until Dick graduated, and continued.