Date: Mon, 8 Jan 2018 17:47:29 +0000 (UTC)
From: Kim Hansen <ringinmine@yahoo.com>
Subject: Ring in Mine: John 19

Ring in Mine
    Kim Terry

Sorry I've been slow posting. I was in an auto accident that played havoc
with the plate in the neck. I have the next couple of chapters back from
Zach, who graciously proofreads them for me. I will post them as quickly as
nifty will allow.

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All rights are reserved to the author except those given to Nifty to
publish and archive this work. Please do not repost without permission of
the author.

My thanks go out to Zack for proofreading this chapter.

     Kim

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Ring in Mine: John Chapter 19

Monday morning heralded changes to the Litchfield men's lives.

Mark arrived early. His Sunday session with Bob wasn't very encouraging. It
is easier to keep a family together than to put one back together. Mark had
decisions to make; change or become resigned to living without Ruth and
John in his life. At this point Mark wasn't even sure that his mother would
be there for him.

Mark was sure he was losing his job as he sat across the large desk from
Vice-Provost Terrion.

"Let me set your mind at ease; you are not losing your job, yet. I still
agree with a young man that said as recently as yesterday that even with
your faults you are still the best man for the job." Vice-Provost Terrion
paused.

"With that being said, the same young man has a restraining order against
you; you are not to have any dealings with him as outlined in the court
documents." He rested his hand on a stack of papers on his desk.

"Do you understand?" He asked. Mark answered that he understood. Mark
looked broken and defeated.

"That's the official part of our business. Mark, as a friend, you've got to
do something or you will be a lonely old man. I know your therapist is
good, but I am going to suggest you attend a week-long program on anger
management. Starting next Saturday you will be on paid leave." Brother
Terrion handed Mark a brochure. "As much as I would like to send you to the
kind of place you sent John; this program is reputable."

Mark looked almost hopeful.

"John still loves you. Right now he is recovering from his own nghtmares
and you are adding to the burden rather than helping him."

As Mark stood at the open door the Vice-Provost had one more comment. "John
will be practicing with the gymnastic team now and then and working with
the sports medicine program. Stay away from your son.

It hadn't taken Mark a lot of effort to find where John was living on
campus. With that knowledge he put a plan into motion.

---------

John woke up early. His room had been designed for a handicapped
student. As he pushed his walker being careful of his unbraced leg he
decided he probably qualified for that designation.

He had his own bathroom. It was designed with grab bars and a tall
toilet. There was no lip into the shower. He could roll his walker right
into the stall, grab onto a bar and push the walker back out. After weeks
of minimal and complicated washing up, a hot shower was pure
heaven. Dressed simply in track pants, brace, t-shirt and a jacket John
answered a knock on the door.

"Are you John?" The boy at the door didn't wait for an answer. "I'm
Nigel. Coach asked me to make sure you had no problems getting to your
first class. Coach said if I played my cards right, you might help me with
my Math. If I don't get my grades up I will lose my scholarship."

John wasn't sure who was more nervous. Nigel talked non-stop. John learned
that Nigel was a freshman. He had a little brother that was fourteen. Nigel
said he was shy around strangers until he got to know them: John didn't
believe it

Nigel's constant chatter took the stress out of the walk across campus to
his Effective Communications class. John thought that once he had been
delivered to the classroom Nigel would disappear. The football jock sat
next to his newly adopted little brother. Nigel not only lived in the same
dorm complex, he was also enrolled in the Effective Communications
class. Nigel had been required to take the two prerequisite English
classes.

John was going to enjoy the communications class. It incorporated oral,
written and visual communication. He figured he had the visual down and
felt he could write pretty well. After class they had some time to
kill. John skimmed through the first chapter of Nigel's college algebra
book. John quizzed his new student on the prerequisite concepts Nigel would
need. They spent the rest of the time dealing with the concept of balanced
values on both sides of the equal sign.

Nigel was amazed. For once he understood what was going on. John was a
great teacher.

John was scheduled for a Sports Medicine class, not as a student but as a
patient. They would be working on his physical therapy. This class
concerned him. It was held in the Physical Education building where his dad
worked. By the time Nigel delivered his charge to the Sports Medicine
students, they were becoming friends.

The sports medicine program would have different students working with him
building strength in his legs. John had spent too much time in the
wheelchair. The instructor demonstrated to the class the exercises John
needed to do. The instructor was used to working with college athletes. He
was condescending. Just out of sight Mark was listening. He wondered how
long his boy would put up with the teacher's attitude.

"Stop! I may be younger than most of your patients and I may be injured,
but I am still an athlete." John announced. The look on the instructor's
face made John want to scream. Walker in hand he shuffled into the gym
stopping at the rope hanging from the two-story ceiling. He asked the
students using the rope if he could be next. The student currently trying
to climb had made it halfway up the rope before he gave up. He slid down
leaving rope burns on his hands.

John removed his t-shirt and took hold of the rope. Hand over hand he
scampered up the rope without using his legs. At the top he rang the
bell. From the top John noticed his dad talking with another coach; both
were watching. John had planned on just climbing back down. The need to
show off for his dad overcame common sense.

John did his climb part way down and look panicked routine. He saw the
concerned look on his dad's face. John called down. "Would someone pull the
rope tight, please?"

With the rope stable John turned himself upside down. John climbed back
down head first with his good leg wrapped around the rope. He stopped
partway down and looked at his dad. Mark was leading the applause.

The word spread through the program; this wasn't a poor crippled kid but a
recuperating gymnast. That was the way John wanted to be treated. He didn't
see himself as cripple.

At the end of the hour John was met by another football player named
Duane. This escort was going to cost John tutoring Duane with his writing
class. John's Sculpture / Ceramic class lasted two hours. Even though this
first session was technical, John was going to enjoy this class.

The classroom didn't have windows. As John neared the building's front
glass doors he discovered that the sun had already set. How was he going to
get back to the safety of his room?

"Hi, John! Sorry we are late!" Nigel and Duane were a welcome sight. Duane
pulled a small electric camping lantern out of his backpack. It was amazing
how bright it was.

"Coach sent the lantern. He told us about what happened to you." Duane
explained.

John wasn't sure whether to be grateful or angry. What other embarrassing
stories was his dad telling his students? With the lantern's glow
surrounding them John rubbed his chest where the young man from his dream
had touched him. He could almost feel that glow build inside of
him. Gratitude won out over anger.

They walked with John to the cafeteria with Nigel providing a non-stop
one-sided conversation. Over dinner the three new friends talked about
their first day of classes. Nigel continued his oration on the short walk
back to their dorm distracting John from the darkness just beyond the
lantern's glow. Being freshmen neither boy were living in the football
dorm, instead Nigel lived on the second floor and Duane on the third. John
could tell they had been friends before today.

When John opened the door he was surprised. His works in progress were in a
corner. He had a worktable like the one at home. The top tilted making it
easier to work sitting on the provided stool. Seeing a familiar scratch in
the work surface he realized this was his table from home.

Nigel had helped himself to a peek at the works in the corner. The first
was one of John's nude male couples. He was sure they would have nothing to
do with a gay artist. John noticed Nigel rubbing the front of his
jeans. Duane must have noticed Nigel's movements. Duane stood next to
Nigel. Next doesn't really describe how closely they were standing. John
knew these two definitely knew each other before today.

"I am going to the TV room." John announced. The boys moved apart
embarrassed.  They offered to go with him.

"You two stay here. There are clean sheets on the top shelf when you are
done. Don't splash on the artwork." John announced to his red-faced
friends. A Star Trek rerun was just beginning. That would give them an
hour.

When the commercial break between programs finally came, John returned to
his room. He knocked twice before opening the door. Nigel was studying at
John's desk and Duane was studying at the worktable. John smiled when he
noticed the white sheets on his bed had been replaced with the new blue
set. He wondered if Nigel realized his t-shirt was inside out. John pulled
up a folding chair that he found in his closet and sat next to Nigel. This
was so much like helping Andrew that John sighed missing his friend.

A half hour later everyone's homework was done and Duane and Nigel were
ready to return to their rooms.

"Would you mind?" Duane couldn't finish his question and he looked at the
floor.

"It's safer in here than anywhere else." John answered.

Duane pulled Nigel into a passionate hug. Their lips met. John was sure
that giving these two a safe place to express their love was going to cost
them some modeling time.

John didn't have much of a social life beyond Duane and Nigel. He spent a
lot of his free time finishing projects. He was especially driven to finish
the 13 images he had created of that terrible weekend.

Duane and Nigel became less inhibited behind the locked door of John's
room. More than once that week, after homework, the couple would make out
as John worked at his table. Thursday John was tired of the groping going
on behind him.

"Just take it out and suck it." John announced.

The couple took it as permission to get naked. John drew the couple in a
hot 69. Neither faces nor penises made it to the paper; their youth and
passion did. Satisfied the two boys just lay there naked on John's
bed. John began another sketch of Nigel's head resting on Duane's chest.

Friday was an early day. They would drop off their stuff and the dorm, hang
in the student union and catch the early movie. Andrew was waiting for John
in the foyer of the dorm building. His parents had dropped him off for the
weekend to keep John company, catch up on his Math, and give them some
alone time.

The four boys had all weekend to do homework. After the movie they finally
made it back to the dorm. Inside John's room Duane and Nigel became very
uncomfortable. They were getting used to their good night kisses.

"Just kiss each other!" John said. They were devastated, their new friend
had just outed them. John pulled Andrew and pressed his lips against his
friend's.

"We thought you were straight?" Nigel stammered.

"I am straight, but I can help out a friend." John announced. An idea
popped into his head. "Duane and Nigel do you only do it with each other?"

"We haven't found anybody else to do it with. We've talked about it
though." Duane answered.

John grabbed a book he was reading for communications. "Have fun. Remember
the sheets."

John left his best friend in the clutches of two sex starved young
adults. He knew Andrew would be in heaven.

Andrew looked a little shell-shocked. John had given him the go ahead on
making it with these two cute football players. Duane took the initiative
and pulled Andrew in for a kiss. Not to be left out, Nigel dropped to his
knees and soon had Andrew's jeans on the floor. Nigel was impressed with
the size Andrew carried between his legs. As Nigel wrapped his lips around
Andrew's hardening flesh Andrew's knees buckled. If it hadn't been for
Duane's muscular arms Andrew would have hit the floor.

It wasn't long before all three were naked on the bed. Andrew lay on his
back with Duane's dick down his throat while Nigel couldn't get enough of
Andrew's dick. Andrew had been sucked only the one time by John. The
difference between someone doing it for you and someone who really enjoyed
doing it was amazing.

Andrew found himself kneeling over Nigel in a hot 69 when something wet and
warm touched his asshole. Duane was washing his ass. The washcloth was
replaced by Duane's tongue. This was out of this world. Andrew could feel
Duane's tongue working its way into his ass.

"I want to try that." Andrew begged. Duane took over sucking Nigel as
Andrew got his first taste of ass. He used the washcloth first and then
dove in tongue first. Duane was soon squirming beneath him. Duane released
Nigel's dick only long enough to ask Andrew to fuck him.

This was another first for Andrew. The warm dark hole wrapped around his
dick. He tried to make it last but after a few strokes he was shooting his
load deep inside Duane. That was just enough to push first Duane and then
Nigel over the edge.

After resting for a couple of minutes Nigel and Duane hopped out of bed
dragging Andrew with them. They made short work of changing the
sheets. They were going to have to do laundry again on Saturday. Washing
John's sheets was a small price to pay to have a place to share their
passion.

Duane left first and went up the stairs. A couple of minutes later Nigel
took the elevator.

John returned to his room to find a smiling naked best friend lying in his
bed.

"Thanks John that was amazing." Andrew expressed his gratitude. John
stripped and crawled into bed. This was perfect. He got a warm friend to
snuggle without any expectations for boy on boy sex attached.

The boys from upstairs woke the sleeping couple on the main floor by
pounding on their door. A sleepy pair of eyes peeked through a barely open
door.

"Don't you sleep in on Saturday?" John asked. Duane and Nigel pushed their
way through the doorway.

"So that's what little Johnny looks like. Which one is your rubber ball?"
Nigel asked.

"Andrew!" John exclaimed.

"It just sort of came out." Andrew tried to defend himself.

"Since you are both naked there is something Nigel and I talked about on
the way down." As Duane talked Nigel was dropping his clothes to the
floor. "We were wondering if four people could fit into your shower at the
same time?"

Before John could protest he found himself in the shower with multiple
hands washing him.

"It's the right one." Nigel announced. Duane had to verify Nigel's
observation.

Everyone took their turn as the center of attention under the warm
water. There were hard dicks all around but no real sex took place. Even
John had to admit it felt real good and was a lot of fun. They had to share
towels. John only owned two.

"So what are we going to do today?" John asked.

"We thought we would run to Salt Lake and find something to do." Duane
answered. Since he was the only one with a car, Duane got to call the
shots.

"Do you think we could make a stop downtown?" John asked.

When Duane said that was fine, John collected a few finished pieces for the
gallery. He also put all 13 images that he had finished of "The Weekend" in
his portfolio.

Duane decided to go to the gallery first. Andrew had let slip that John's
work was hung in a gallery in Salt Lake. That had been the motivation for
the trip all along.

Mr. Bertolli's assistant remembered John and treated him as a VIP. While
Andrew showed the college boys around the gallery, John wrote a work order
to have the finished pieces photographed and framed. The 13 were not for
display yet. The other pieces Mr. Bertrolli could decide if he wanted to
use them or not.

John found his three gay friends looking at his male nudes. John quickly
looked below the belt buckles of his friends. They all were sporting tents
in their jeans.

"Do you think Mr. Bertrolli would mind if I used his studio for an hour or
so?" John asked. John noticed the assistant also was sporting wood.

John shepherded the boys into the back. They were so horny they were more
than willing to drop their jeans and pose. John tried one pose after
another trying to find a pose that was the least pornographic. He finally
decided that with those hardons it was not going to be suitable for general
display no matter how he posed them. Andrew was more than pleased to be on
his knees with two hard dicks inches from his face. The boys each had a
hand on Andrew's head. Andrew's face wasn't showing. John had found some
really outlandish Mardi Gras masks with feathers for Nigel and Duane. He
didn't want to be the one to out them to the world.

John got the hard cocks on the paper first before they went soft. He didn't
have to worry. Every time one started to flag, Andrew fluffed it back
up. The bright feathers and the muscled football players contrasted
Andrew's smaller frame. John did this piece on a stretched canvas and used
acrylics rather than watercolors. It took a good two hours with breaks
before John let Andrew finish off his friends. John had to admit to himself
that watching his best friend worship Duane's and Nigel's cocks was pretty
hot. He remembered how good Andrew's blowjobs felt.

The canvas forgotten John stepped up to the group and dropped his
jeans. All three were on their knees working on John. Just as John blew his
load on Duane's face Mr. Bertrolli entered.

"John I thought you said you are straight?" The gallery owner asked.

"I'm straight, not a monk. I would have to be crazy to turn down a good
blow job." John answered.

"Do you think they would be interested in an older dick?" Mr. Bertrolli
asked pulling the longest dick out of his fly that any of the boys had seen
before. Hanging from the end was a shiny ring. The older man pulled his
shirt over his head. Silver rings hung from his nipples that matched those
in his ears. John left them hard at work.

"I'll watch the gallery, if you want to help Mr. Bertrolli in the studio."
John offered. The assistant was gone in a flash.

A couple entered the gallery.

"May I help you?" John asked. The couple ignored him. They browsed the
gallery for half an hour. John overheard them discussing the disgusting
paintings by John Littleman. They had numerous observations about what type
of old pervert the artist must be. John was losing the battle. A laugh
finally slipped out.

"What is so funny young man?" The stuffy woman demanded.

Mr. Bertrolli reentered the gallery just in time to hear the demand.

"John is there a problem?" He asked.

"No Mr. Bertrolli. They were speculating what type of sad old pervert
Mr. Littleman must be to paint this trash." John wasn't hiding his reaction
well.

"The new painting in the back needs to be photographed and framed. If you
have a place for it, you may sell it. I do want two canvas copies of it."
John explained as he headed to the back room.

"Is he an artist?" The lady asked.

"That is John Littleman." Mr. Bertrolli answered.

On the drive home John was subjected to a discussion which was better
Mr. Bertrolli's longer slender dick or his assistant's slightly shorter,
but as big around as a beer can appendage. The conversation became an
argument over which felt better buried in your ass. John just shook his
head, closed his eyes and napped for the remainder of the drive.

Back in John's dorm room, John announced there would be no more discussion
of sex until everyone's homework was done. John enjoyed the brief respite.

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