Date: Tue, 22 Feb 2011 09:13:28 -0800 (PST) From: Dave Ledge Subject: Older and Younger, A Love Story? The following story is fiction but reflects true events from my recent and my current life. My other stories can be found elsewhere in Nifty. Older and Younger, a Love Story? I like libraries, ok? Get over it. I always have. I grew up as a small kid. I didn't grow until I was 16. I had to look up at both the guys and the girls in my classes, starting in 5th grade. Libraries were my refuge. I enjoyed getting lost in the depths of the public library near my house. I was a freak since I could read at the age of 2 years old. (This is a true syndrome.) So, the written word has always had a strong fascination for me. So, imagine having thousands and thousands of books to be able to open, to look through, and to read through! Even today the smell of an old library full of old paper and old books makes me relax and unwind. I grew up in an ok family. No traumas, no dysfunction. But not lots of warmth either... I was an unexpected late arrival. All my older brothers and sisters fussed over me when I was young. However, they were all gone by the time I was in junior high and my parents, frankly, were just too glad to have them gone and have time for each other to give me a great deal of emotional love. They tried. I tried. Just didn't work out too well. I knew they loved me. I loved them. Just not a lot of emotion to go with it... Anyway, the library was where I knew I could find true understanding and knowledge in the pages of its books. I learned about how to be a good person from all of the biographies of famous people I read. I learned about honesty, sincerity, and the pain it took to be honest and sincere from them, too. I learned that most of the world did not value those traits and that much of the world preferred to live in delusion and dishonesty and dysfunction. Don't underestimate the power of reading about other peoples' lives, for real. I finally grew in the summer before my sophomore (first) year of high school. And damn that hurt. I went from 4'11 to 6'1 that summer. I was in constant growing pain and had to eat every hour or I'd faint. I had to relearn how to walk and move. I had this body that didn't make any sense to me. My arms and legs stretched out into the distance. I was so tall I had a new perspective on the world. Gawky, awkward? Yeah, me. When I got to the HS and walked the halls the first week of school no one recognized me at first. They all thought I was a new student. After a week they all finally realized who I was but still shook their heads in disbelief. I retreated to the library. I made friends with the huge female head librarian at the HS library and was surprised when she asked me if I would work there to help out. Working in a library? Is it work when you're in a library doing what you can to help out in your favorite place in the world? My yes was so enthusiastic that even her normally grim visage creased with a smile. She even managed to pay me. I didn't know what to do with the money. My parents were dealing with older sibs but most of them were now on their own and paying their own way. So, the `rents would give me money from time to time, just because. I didn't go out much and when I did go out didn't need to spend much money. Eventually the `rents encouraged me to open a bank account. I wound up accumulating a fair amount of money by the time I left HS and went to the University in town. I did well in HS since I wasn't doing much except school and working in the library. And was smart enough, too. So, I wound up with a full ride at the local U. By then the `rents had their own life. I had mine in a different part of the house. Sort of quiet and solitary but it was mine. So, none of us had problems with me living there through college. I rode by bike across town to the U. Never saw the need for a car. I did sort of love my bike though. I took great care of it and made sure I never had a crash. Even in snow and ice I could ride it to the U. Loved pushing my body hard when riding it, too. Did very well at the U for undergrad, just because. Liked the library there but would usually go back to my local public library for relaxation. The U.'s new library was a bit too new for my taste. Smelled like plastic and grout, not paper and old books. Seemed like it was mainly computers, too. Well, surprise, surprise, I decided to go into Library Science and get a Master's in it. No reason to leave the U. I'd just get it there. And yes, I was going to work in the new library, too, as part of my training to become a full librarian. While I wasn't too enthusiastic about working in this kind of library I knew I needed to understand it if I were going to be a librarian for real. I actually liked my classes from the beginning. (Who really likes "Information Fluency" but a librarian anyway?) I had chosen well. Surprise, surprise, again. During my training to work in the library I did two-week sessions in all of the parts of the library, rotating from place to place. My last rotation was with the head reference librarian. I had envisioned a stern older woman with her white hair tied back in a severe bun. I wasn't afraid of this vision since I could always make women like her smile and even chuckle with my very wry and dark humor. My work ethic never hurt either. No one had ever faulted my library work, ever. To my surprise, instead of the grim woman there was a tall dark-haired man greeting me. He shook my hand in a very firm grip, which I shook back the same way. His dark blue eyes had a sort of "twinkle" as he greeted me with a smile. I must have looked nonplussed because his smile got even wider. "I'm not the head reference librarian you expected, I guess, Mark," he said. I was startled by his intuition and started to protest and apologize when he cut me short. "I've just been promoted to this position. And, yes, the previous head reference librarian probably would have fit your image of this position quite well." He then laughed out loud. I must have looked quite shocked because he laughed harder. "It's ok Mark," he said. "Let's start your training." Well, Dr. James might be younger than I expected but he knew his job. He was thorough, careful, and clear in his training. But he was also quite funny and irreverent in a way that was totally unexpected. I wound up responding to his irreverence with my own quite sardonic wit. I hadn't read thousands of volumes of works of all kinds for nothing! It started to be a daily challenge to see who could make the other laugh out loud first and startle the library patrons. We got more and more outrageous every day, using puns, word games, and outright jokes to get a reaction from the other. I enjoyed seeing his face pucker up trying not to laugh after I said something totally asinine. I guess he got the same pleasure from watching mine. I did notice he often looked at me, especially when he thought I wouldn't notice. I figured he was just planning out his next joke. When my two weeks with him flew by I was a bit startled by how sorry I was that it was over. If I wasn't mistaken, he seemed to be sorry, too. He said when I was leaving, "Thanks, Mark. You were a breath of fresh air." He gave me a bone-crushing hug then, which I returned big time! We held on to each other for the longest hug I'd ever had. He finally let go and sort of pushed me away. We looked at each other in the eyes. I couldn't figure out his expression. He just said, "Thanks again" and turned away and went back to his office. Dr. James and I didn't see each other except in passing for the next six months. I had classes to finish and other work to do. Although I came in at an advanced level, I still had to have all the credits to get my degree. I finally finished and got my MLS! At this point I was thinking about traveling to Europe and taking time off. I had plenty of money. I had no attachments. I had done simple sex stuff with guys when young and women later on. But had never met anyone I wanted to settle down with and "buy china" with. I loved to jack off, but jacked off just from feeling my big hard cock and feeling myself up. I had started to plan out when to get my InterRail pass to Europe when I got a totally unexpected email. Mark, (it read) this is Dr. James. We've had a sudden resignation in the reference library. With Dr. Worthington (my predecessor) being on medical leave, this means we're totally short handed. Would you consider working for reference for a while in this emergency? I know you're perfectly qualified for this job. Yours, Dr. James. Wow. I was in shock reading this. To be frank I had had such a good experience with Dr. James that I had already decided to become a reference librarian myself. Besides, in this job you got to use old sources (books, journals, etc.) as well as new sources. I could have the best of both worlds. So, if I could actually work as a reference librarian at a major University for a while, I'd have everything in place to become a head reference librarian myself, even while young. No brainer. Europe could wait. I'm only 26 after all. I was ready to resume where Dr. James and I had left off. But this man was not the same Dr. James I had worked with before! He didn't laugh. He didn't smile. He tried to grin when I tried the types of word play and jokes that used to make us both laugh. However, he never laughed. His dark blue eyes never shone. He seemed to be diminished somehow. His hair wasn't quite combed some days. His clothes were rumpled some days. None of this was like the Dr. James I knew. I noticed he was no longer standing up straight. I even thought I saw the beginnings of a gut around his mid section. The Dr. James I knew had always been in shape. When he gave me that long hug (I still remembered) our flat stomachs had touched. After two months I decided I needed to talk to him. He wasn't getting better and he wasn't the person I had liked. How to do it, though? Go for the obvious, I decided. We were together at lunch in the cafeteria. I pretended to drop my water bottle behind him on the table before we sat down. I reached over him to grab it and wound up in the same position as when he hugged me last year. His new big gut stabbed my flat stomach when I reached behind him. "Whoa," I said. "What is this?" I grabbed onto his gut and was able to jiggle it a bit. He flushed scarlet. He mumbled, "I haven't been running for a while." I answered him. "Well, I can certainly tell." I grinned at him and rubbed his belly just a bit more. "Maybe you should start up again," I said in a teasing kind of tone. "And if you do start running again, would you teach me how to run? I don't really know how to run well. No one ever taught me. Not the kind of thing they taught much at my school." For the first time since I started working with him full-time he focused on me as a person. I could almost see the thoughts turning in his head. Eventually he said, "Sure, why not? Give me a month to get back in shape and then I'll train you how to be a distance runner as well as a reference librarian." Well, his demeanor didn't change much at work, but it was clear he started to take care of himself. He got a great haircut. His clothes were clean and pressed. He stood up straighter. I could see his gut was receding. At the end of the month on a Friday, he called me into his office. "Mark," he said, "be at the track at the HS at 7 AM tomorrow." Fuck, I thought! That's damned early. Well, it was worth it to help this man out who had been such a big help to me--and a real mentor. I owed him. We both showed up in sweats since it was still chilly. He talked to me slowly and carefully and showed me how to run. He picked up my legs, held them, and put my feet down very precisely and very carefully. He showed me how to position my entire body for maximum effect. He took over an hour showing me how to run. I had sort of thought I was kidding when I asked him to do this. I hadn't really thought there was anything to learn about running. So stupid of me... Finally it was time to try out his lessons. We started out very slowly and very slowly got faster and faster. Dr. James was monitoring every step I took and criticizing and/or congratulating constantly. My legs started to cramp finally from the unexpected motions. I knew I was in great shape aerobically from my bicycling. So, I had no problems breathing, although Dr. James was talking about this constantly, too. However, my left thigh finally seized up from the weird (to me) positioning of it. We had been running at top speed on the track but I could feel what was starting to happen. I slowed down carefully and then finally ditched out on the grass on the verge. I started to rub my thigh to unclench it. Eventually Dr. James realized I wasn't with him any more and ran back to see what had happened. I explained as well as I could. He was instantly contrite. He apologized for pushing me way too hard in my first training session. However, he was so excited by how good I was already. That was why he pushed me too hard. Well, that made me feel better... He took over massaging my thigh to make up for his lack of understanding I guess. I was glad at first that he was doing this for me. But then was less glad. It started to feel too good, what he was doing. His big man hands had pushed up my sweats and his warm palms rubbed my naked thigh. I didn't know what to say then. I started to flush and could feel a reaction on the crotch area at the unexpected contact. Dr. James finally noticed my discomfort. He gave me a sort of half smile. He then let go of my thigh and gave me some stretches to do. We did those together to finish unclenching the thigh. Well, to cut it short a bit, he and I started to run together five days a week. At work we were totally polite and a bit distant. However, when running the humor reemerged and we started to rag on each other as long as we had breath. We decided to train for a local marathon taking place in our town in the fall. Gave us a goal to work for... At work we were still quite professional. As running buddies we started to get more and more outrageous. At times we'd try to trip each other. At the end of runs we'd occasionally tackle each other and wrestle a bit. When it finally got hot and I stripped off my shirt to run shirtless I thought I heard a whistle from Dr. James. Nah. If he did make a sound, it was in surprise. I'm sort of hairy for a guy my age. I've got a rack on my thin body and the hair on my chest points it out I guess. Dr. James, on the other hand, has a perfect body. Due to the running his gut was gone. He is hairless and every muscle he has shows. He is the definition of an in-shape guy. With his handsome face and dark blue eyes he could probably model for one of the fitness magazines. Finally the marathon took place! God. If you've ever run one of these you know the pain, torture, and excitement. Dr. James was in the Master's division. He was over 40 but not by much, he said. I was in the regular division, of course. Finally after hours of pain I finished! I had come in in the top 20! Incredible! I looked for Dr. James. He ran across the finish line just seconds behind me. He WON the Master's! Damn! I ran across to him and we hugged each other with our naked chests together. I was so proud of him and he was so proud of me, too, I guessed! Time stopped. When I finally came to I realized Dr. James had released me and I him. We looked at each other. I had no idea what I saw in his face. "Congratulations Mark!" he said. "Let's take next week off and get back together on Saturday, ok? There's another marathon a couple of hours' drive away in a few months. Up for that, too?" I nodded and he left me to do interviews with the local newspaper... The newspaper the next day had some pics from the race, which was a big deal in our town. There was a nice one of Dr. James celebrating his victory. I cut that out and saved it. Guess the paper figured that might sell a few papers! A couple of days later Dr. James dropped by my desk and gave me an envelope. I looked up at him quizzically. He smiled and said, "here are some copies for you of some of the pics the sports photographer for the paper took at the race. I've known him since high school and he thought we might enjoy seeing some of what he took." He smiled again at me and looked me deeply in the eyes before leaving. Once again I wasn't sure what his expression meant. After he had gone I opened up the envelope and took the pics out, one by one. The first one was the same one I had cut out from the paper. However, the real pic was so much nicer than the paper's. It showed Dr. James' great body, face and smile. That was a keeper for sure! The next ones were action shots. My favorite was one showing this hairy-chested young stud (was that really me?) crossing the finishing line right in front of this gorgeous mature man. The photographer caught my joy and elation at finishing. He also caught the mature man staring intensely at my butt! Well, I can see why that one didn't go into the paper! Grin. I'm sure Dr. J. wasn't really looking at my butt, but it did seem like it. I gave out a gasp when I took out the last photo. Wow, oh wow! It was a pic of our victory hug. It was taken from the side and you could see our biceps flared, our equal height and nearly naked bodies in a clinch, with our sweaty chests mashed together and our arms encircling each other with our right hands grabbing each other's butt! It was intensely erotic and sensual I realized with a shock. I got hard in seconds. I flushed red almost as fast. Fuck! I glanced around the reference area quickly. No one was around. Thank God! I quickly put all the pictures back in the envelope and willed my breathing to slow down and my erection to recede. Finally I got myself under control. I barely saw Dr. James for the rest of the week. The few times I did, he gave me that same funny look and smile. I flushed each time he did, which made his smile broader. I pulled out all the pics from time to time and was struck, each time, by the last two. I was sure I was seeing something there that wasn't really there, but I couldn't just go around the library and ask people to look at those pics and tell me how they interpreted them, could I? I thought about calling the photographer to get him to tell me what he saw when he took the pics. However, I didn't know the man from Adam and figured he'd let Dr. J. know I had called him wondering about the pics, too. Nope. Finally Saturday came and Dr. James and I met at the track for our regular training session. No one else was about. We had the track to ourselves. Even in the morning it was pretty hot and we soon stripped to as little as we could get away with. As always, I was struck by Dr. J's masculine beauty. I decided not to let that (and the memory of the pics) intimidate me or change our relationship. I tried to relax, started to make puns and jokes. I could see him relax a bit, too. I started to mess with him. I bumped him a bit while we were jogging, grabbing him ever so slightly at unexpected times, even slapped his tight, muscular, butt from time to time. He gave me that same funny look but responded and gave me the same treatment, right back at me. We both upped the ante and pretty much had given up on running. We were pushing and shoving each other, trying to trip each other, gut punching some and spanking the other's butt even more. Dr. J. finally backed away from me and ran into the infield of the track. Confused, I followed. He stopped at the sand pit they used for the jumps, turned, faced me, and jumped at me. Completely taken aback and surprised, I just stood there as he tackled me and we rolled into the sand pit! He grabbed me in a bear hug and held me close. We rolled over and over, both trying to get on top of the other. The sand stuck to every inch of our bodies that weren't in contact with each other. Our breathing was ragged and we groaned and moaned as we fought. Oh shit! To my horror I realized I was getting hard and the skimpy nylon shorts weren't going to keep it in--not even the old jock I was wearing was going to help! My thick seven and a half incher was going to be exposed which meant I was going to be exposed, too! Oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit. Suddenly I realized that Dr. J. was now thrusting his pelvis and crotch against mine. I realized he was purposefully rubbing our sweaty chests and nipples together. I realized he was hard, too, as I felt his naked cock emerge from his shorts and rub my exposed erection! Oh my God! I immediately stopped struggling. I was again in shock. Dr. J rolled on top of me again. He spread my arms out and held them. He pushed my legs apart and held them with his. He lifted his head up from mine and looked deeply into my eyes. He suddenly dropped his head onto mine so that our lips were touching. I gasped and he quickly thrust his tongue into my mouth and passionately started to kiss me! If I thought I was in shock before, I was even more so now! However, my body soon took over and I started to kiss him back even harder. I rubbed my body against him, writhing every inch of my body against his. I forced my hands out of his control and felt up every millimeter of him I could get to. I pushed my hard, naked, cock against his! We were like two crazed animals, in heat, in lust, in passionate desire for each other. I had never felt like this before. I saw stars and fireworks! I wanted to rub every cell of my body against his. I attacked his mouth, lips, and tongue as hard as I could. I rubbed and frotted and rubbed and frotted my nearly naked body against his as hard as I could. This was violent, passionate, intense sex that I had never imagined even existed! This was primal and unbelievably hot! Oh my God this is fucking un-fucking-believeable! "Oh shit", I yelled. "I'm cumming!" And I CAME! "Oh fuck", he said, and I knew he was cumming, too!!! When I came back to my senses, I realized I was alone lying on the sand. I sat up and looked for Dr. J. He was standing up and looked down at me. His hair was disheveled. He was half wet with sweat and half covered with dark brown sand. His gut was sticky with drying cum and his still half hard cock was barely contained in his stained shorts. Damn, he was the most gorgeous sight I'd ever seen! But before I could say anything, he spoke up first. "Mark, I had absolutely no right to do that. I can't tell you how sorry I am! I am a fucking animal, not a human being. I pushed you down and rutted you like a bitch. Shit, shit, shit. And for God's sake, I'm old enough to be your father!" I started to protest. I started to say only if you had sex when you were 15! I wanted to say that that was the most incredible sex of my entire life! He wouldn't let me say a word. "Mark, we'll need to talk about what happened--but not now. Come by to my house tonight around 7. We'll have dinner and I'll try to act like a civilized human being." With that he turned and ran away from me at top speed. Again he surprised me. By the time I got up and got ready to follow him, he had too much of a head start. He was going to make it to his car before I could catch him. To be continued.... Love your comments on this and will reply to everyone.