Punking Mike, Part 2

Chapter 6
Max H.  lilperv76@yahoo.com

This story involves sex between guys.  If you shouldn't be reading stuff like that, move on.

The characters in this fantasy may not always practice safe sex.  In the world we live in everyone should practice safe sex.

It's okay to print this story out or save it to disc, but it remains my property.  Don't transfer it to another website or archive without my permission.

GP = Gage Patrick  MK = Mike Cronin  TL = Terry Lathrop


I left work a little early that afternoon and made stops at both an adult bookstore and my favorite jewelers.

I got home before Mike and was waiting when he arrived back at our place from campus.

"Hey, Gage!  Didn't expect to see you here."  He came over and gave me a tight hug and a hot kiss.

Afterward, I said, "Yeah, I took part of the afternoon off.  Had some errands to run.  How'd you like to eat out tonight?  Or I could fix you dinner here?"

"What is this?  It's not my birthday."

I knew it wasn't.  I'd peeked at his driver's license to see when his birthday really was after he mentioned it was coming up.  "Well, you've gotten stuck doing too much of the cooking lately, so I want to give you a break.  And I want to hear about your day."

He hugged me and gave me another kiss.  "What's up, Gage?  You're acting almost guilty, like you are trying to butter me up or something."

I leered at him.  "Butter you up, huh?  Now there's an interesting image."

He wiggled his butt and said, "Wanna change your mind and stay home?"

"No, studly.  We can always do that later.  What are you in the mood for?"

"You know, I passed a Damon's in Kent today.  Is there one around here?  I'd love some ribs."

"Yeah, there's one on Montrose, just off route 18.  Ribs it is!"

We had ribs at Damon's, came back to the house, and worked separately.  Mike was doing his assignments while I did my usual computer survey of the world markets.  We broke, as had become our habit, about 11:00.

Mike sauntered into the bedroom, and said, "Butter would be kind of messy, wouldn't it?  Why don't we just get naked and make do with whatever lube is handy?"

"You want me naked, Mike?  So get me naked."

He slowly took off all my clothes, stopping to lick newly-exposed skin from time to time, suck my nips, and stick his tongue in my navel.  By the time he had me stripped, I was hard and leaky.

"Oh, Gage, I love to see you in all your glory.  I love all the gold hair on your body.  You look like some kind of god!"

"Mike, you'll make me blush.  You're the one who is beautiful.  Let's get those clothes off, and I'll show you.  Besides, I've got a little present for you."

"A present?  And after I have my clothes off?  I wonder what it could be."  He snickered.  
I think he thought I was referring to my cock in his ass, which, of course would happen in due course.

"Well, loverboy," I said, smirking at him, "let's find out, shall we?"  I stripped him as slowly as he had stripped me, doing many of the same things with my tongue and mouth as he had.  By the time I was finished, both our cocks were urgently demanding attention. I went to the closet and came back with a small box, which I handed to him.  I watched his face carefully as he opened it.  I knew I might have been making a big mistake.

When he saw the contents, he looked startled at first, but then he grinned.  "A cockstrap!  I know why you're giving me this."

"Oh yeah?"

"Sure.  When I told you about all those guys I see everyday making me hot and bothered, you decided to give me something to remind me of you."

"You got it, Mikey.  Besides, I think it will make your package even more impressive.  You sure you won't be embarrassed to wear it?"

"Even if I were, Gage, I'd wear it because you wanted me to."

"Okay, let me put it on you."

"Aww, does this mean we're engaged?"

"When we're engaged, babe, you'll be getting a ring of considerably more value."

"When . . . ?"

"Well, I've been assuming so.  Does that scare you?"

"Yeah, a little.  But you know I love you, don't you?"

"The problem is, junior, I wonder if you don't love every good-looking guy you see.  That's why I'm giving you this little device, so you'll keep me in mind."

"I understand, Gage."

"I'll want a report tomorrow evening on how your first day wearing this went."

"Sir, yes sir!  I'll report everything sir."  He grinned to show me he hadn't lapsed back into the Mike of old.

"If it doesn't work, I have some other things in mind."

"Ooooh, I knew you had a kinky side, if I could just tap into it."

"Hop in bed, young'un, `cause I'm gonna tap into you!"



When I first met Mike, I was afraid he was just some guy trying to use Gage Patrick for his own purposes.  And, since I admired Gage, I warned Mike.  After knowing him for almost two months, though, I had come to like Mike and think of him as a good friend.  

Well, there was more to it than that.  It was impossible not to like him.  He was just a really nice guy.  And he was really hot.  Which presented a problem.  I could see that he and Gage really were into each other bigtime.  After suggesting I didn't want to see Gage hurt, I couldn't very well come on to Mike.  That would make me as bad as I thought he was at first.  So I squelched my growing attraction to my new buddy.  But it wasn't easy, since we were in the car together and had lunch together on campus most days.

That morning, as Mike bounced out of the house (don't ya just hate morning people?), I noticed that his package looked even better than usual.  It was a nice Indian summer day, and he was wearing a tee, 501's, and a button-up shirt that was open down the front.  I watched his basket as he made the trip from the front door to my car.  

He got in, said "Whassup, dude?" and sat next to me.  We touched fists.  And I looked at his lap.  I knew what it was.  He had to be wearing a cockstrap.  My own cock began to swell.  I was so embarrassed I looked away quickly, drove around the circle in front of the house and then down the driveway.  When I stopped at the end of the drive to check for oncoming traffic, Mike said, "Terry, you're sweating, man.  And you've got a boner!  What IS up, besides your dick?"

"Uh, Mike, you're wearing a cockstrap, aren't you?"

He laughed.  "Yeah, Gage gave it to me."

I chuckled, maybe because I was still nervous talking about this with Mike.  "What's he doing, trying to make you his slave boy?"

"I wish."

"You wish?"

"Uh, forget I said, that, please, Ter.  That just slipped out."

"Okay, Mike.  I didn't mean to pry anyway."

"No problem man.  Let's just say that I told Gage I had just about a constant hard-on when I'm on campus because of all the great-looking men, so he gave me this.  He said  I would always feel it and it would remind me that he and I were partners.  He'd be really upset if anyone suggested that he was making me into his boy."

"You're lucky, Mike.  I hope you know that.  To have such a great guy and to have him treat you so well."

"Oh, Terry, I know that, man, believe me.  But I can't help my woodies.  My cock has a mind of its own."

"Yeah, I get that way sometimes, too."

"But not all the time?"

"Well, I used to, when I was 17 or 18.  It still happens a lot, but not so much.  You must be really horny if you're still getting hard up from looking at the guys on campus.  What was it like in high school and last year at Indiana?"

He paused a while.  "Ter, until last summer I thought I was straight.  Then something happened, something I'd rather not talk about, that, let's say, put me in touch with my gay side.  And now I'm gay as a goose and loving it, and getting turned on by every halfway decent-looking guy I see."

I knew not to press him on what had happened that summer.  He'd tell me if he ever felt comfortable enough with me to do that.  But for the rest of the ride to campus, my hard cock was trapped uncomfortably in my jeans.  I boned up again sitting across from Mike at lunch, and again in the car coming home.  I couldn't help picturing his balls and dick encircled by a studded leather strap.  I beat off that night thinking about it, too.


When Jason and I were under Seth's complete control I was forced to do things so humiliating I never believed I could do them.  Sometimes I wanted to die from embarrassment.  To use one of my mom's words, I was often mortified by what Seth made us do.  

But those days were behind me, and there wasn't much about them I ever wanted to relive.  Well, maybe a little role playing with Gage would be nice, but even so . . .

The point I'm trying to get to is that I was pretty embarrassed that first day with the cockstrap.  It seemed my package jutted out in front of me, and I was just sure everyone who looked at me could tell I was wearing it.

I knew Terry was looking at me at lunch, and that made me nervous.  I mean, Ter was my friend and all, and he was gay.  But he was grinning at me as I carried my tray toward him in the cafeteria.

The worst time I had, though, was in Prof. M's class.  I really liked him and liked his class.  Some of my classmates weren't too much into the 17th century poets, but the prof gave us so much of a feeling for the times they lived in that I began to see them as real people with real problems and longings, and that made them come alive for me.  Anyway, I had been sitting on the front row.  And, as I've said, I often stopped to talk with him after class.  A year ago I would have said that was something only a real suck-up would do, but I really did like his class and I really thought he was sexy.  But I've told you that, too.

That day, as he led the class discussion of a poem by Marvell (that's Andrew, not Captain), he was walking back and forth in the area in front of his desk.  And I caught him looking at my crotch at least a half dozen times.  But after the first time or two, I boned up.  And as he kept glancing down at my lap, I got harder and harder.  When class was over, I decided no way was I going to stop at his desk for a chat with my cock visibly poking down the leg of my Levis.  I held my book bag in front of me and got out of there as quickly as I could   I didn't feel any better about it all because I was going to have to report everything to Gage, either.  I didn't know whether he'd think it was hilarious or be angry with me because I got hard in the first place.

But it wasn't over yet.  On the way home, Terry wanted to know how my first day wearing the strap had gone, and I had to rehash everything for him, so of course I threw another boner.

And yet another boner as I recited the whole thing for Gage over dinner.  

"Mikey, did wearing the strap take your mind off of all those sexy guys you come in contact with, so to speak, on campus?"

I thought about that.  "Well, yeah.  Like I said, I was hard up all the time, but that was more from embarrassment than because I was lusting for all the hot men."

"Voila!  Now, let's see how long the effect of the strap lasts.  When you begin to feel its effects waning, let me know.  I've got a few other things in store for you."

I grinned at him.  "I'm beginning to regret being so honest with you, you bastard."

When I said that, his smile almost blew me away.  "You called me `bastard.'  Do you have any idea what progress that is?"

"Say what?"

"You've been trying to make me into your master, your dom, ever since you came home with me.  And now you feel easy enough to call me `bastard.'"

"And that's a good thing?"

"It sure is, sweetheart.  It tells me that you have finally accepted that we're on an equal footing."

"Sorry, Gage. I have trouble seeing it that way."

His face fell.  "Mike, dammit, let's not get back into that gratitude shit.  What's happened between us is because I love you, man.  Get that through your thick Irish skull.  I love you.  I'm happier than I've ever been because you're in my life.  I wake up happy in the morning and go to sleep happy at night because you are in my life.  So when you feel like calling me `bastard,' I know it's a way of saying you love me and don't feel subservient to me."

Wow!  I was overwhelmed, and I didn't know what to say. I put down my fork, stood, and went around the table to him.  He pulled his chair back, and I sat on his lap.  I put my hands on either side of his face and gave him a kiss.  I tried to tell him with that kiss just how much I loved him.

Later that evening when I came out of the bathroom, Gage was already in bed, naked of course, on his back.  He handed me the WET and a rubber.  

"Tonight I'd like the new Mike to do me.  Is that okay?"

"I'm not sure there's any new Mike, but I've had a hard-on all day, and since it's okay with you, I'd love to top tonight."

I started by rimming him until he was actually yelling for me to stick my hard, dripping cock in his ass.  I knew how desperate that feeling could be, so I didn't play games with him.  I put some lube on my cock, rolled on the condom, and put lube on my sheathed dick.  Gage's hole was already wet with my spit.

"Come, on, Mikey, hurry up, please.  I need you!"

"Yes, lover.  I'm ready."

I put my cockhead against his winking rosebud and pushed gently.  His chute practically sucked me into him.  Wondering momentarily how he kept himself so stretched, I forgot all that in the bliss of sinking my tool inside his hot, hot fuck.  

"Oh, yeah, Mike.  I love you, babe.  Love me!  Do me!  Fuck me!"

If I had felt like being pissy, I could have pulled out and given him a hard time over asking me to fuck him, in view of what he had said to me several nights earlier.  But I was too caught up in the moment.  Seth had made me realize how much I needed to have my ass drilled regularly, but there's no substitute for sticking your cock in a hot hole, either.

"Gage, Gage, lover!  I love you.  I need you.  Take my cock, man, take it!"

I began to pump hard into his ass as he hunched it up to meet my strokes.  This wasn't a long, slow, gentle, loving coupling.  It was hot sex!  I had been hard and leaking all day, and I needed to get off.  I came quickly, sending what seemed like vast quantities of my sperm into the condom inside Gage. When I was through, I collapsed onto him, our mouths seeking and finding each other.

Eventually, after I don't know how much face sucking, it occurred to me that Gage hadn't come yet, so I scooted down between his legs and began to suck him.  It didn't take much of that before he was thrashing around on the bed, moaning, calling my name, and telling me how good that felt and how much he loved me.  Soon he filled my mouth with his creamy, sweet cum.  

Seth had taught me not to swallow instinctively.  I held Gage's cum in my mouth, pulled up, and looked him in the eye.  I thought I would share it with him in a kiss if he didn't object.

"Mikey, swish it around in your mouth.  Taste me in you, lover.  Than swallow it.  We need regular injections of each other, blending ourselves together, sweetheart."

I swished his cream around in my mouth, opened it so Gage could see it, and then swallowed it.

I wore the cockstrap for the rest of the week.  One day, the cute Asian guy in the library watched me as I walked toward the table where we both regularly sat.  He stared at my protruding basket.  Then he looked me in the eye.  He looked puzzled.  Then he gave me a quick grin and turned his eyes back to the econ text he was reading.


Gus turned thirteen, and his parents let him take a bunch of his friends to a Saturday matinee and for pizza afterwards.

Mike and I decided that our present for him would be to take him to the Browns-Colts game the next day.  We invited his parents, too, but Brent said if we didn't mind, it would give him and Bev a chance to have some time together alone.  Romantics that we are, Gage and I thought that was sweet.  Besides, we didn't mind having Gus to ourselves for an afternoon.

Mike was impressed with the Browns' new lakeside stadium.  Some of the fans were pretty gross, but Gus didn't seem to be put out by their behavior.

By some fluke, the Browns actually beat the Colts by a last-minute field goal.  All the way home, Gus was insufferable.  He couldn't resist lording it over Mikey, who, not surprisingly, was a Colts fan.

Those two seemed to have a real bond.  Mike had said Gus had asked him to be a sort of honorary big brother, and both seemed to have accepted that relationship.  I could see they were enjoying teasing each other.  

We stopped for burgers and fries on the way home.  I was amazed at how much food Gus put away. He ate two hamburgers, a big chocolate shake, and most of my fries.  I guess he was a growing boy, though he did complain that he was one of the shortest boys in his class and took a lot of ribbing from his male classmates about that.

Mike assured him that kids his age had their growth spurts at different times, and that eventually he'd probably catch up.  From the way Gus looked at Mike, I could tell he was developing a full-fledged case of hero worship.

Gus was profuse in his thanks, and he gave both Mike and me big hugs when we dropped him at his house.

Before we went to bed that night, I asked Mike what he thought of the cockstrap after wearing it for a week.

"I dunno, Gage.  Terry, the cute Asian kid in the library, and Dr. M. obviously know I'm wearing it.  I'm still hard all the time, though mostly because I think everybody else also knows I'm wearing it.  But I confess I haven't been obsessing over the cute guys on campus as much."

"How about Terry?  Do you find him attractive?"

"Promise you won't be mad?"


"Well, yeah, Terry's a cool dude and he looks great.  But, Gage, I'm not going to fuck Terry.  I don't think he's interested in me that way, and even if he was, I love you, man."

"Mikey, do you ever fantasize about Terry?"

"No fair!  I can't help my fantasies."

"I won't criticize, babe.  I just want to know."

"Well, in that case, yes.  I do."

"So we'd have to say that the cockstrap idea wasn't an unqualified success."

"Yes, I guess you could say that."


Gage took off the strap and made love to me.  Afterwards he spooned up behind me and held me until I went to sleep.  When I woke the next morning, he had my cock in his mouth, gently tonguing the underside of the shaft.  Even though I needed to piss, I blew a big load into his mouth.

"Oh, man!  What a way to wake up."  

He opened his mouth to show me he was still holding my cum there.  "Come here, stud!  I pulled him up to my face and we kissed, sharing our passion and my cum.

"Your turn," I said.  "Just let me piss first."

"Go get in the shower.  I'll be right there.  You can take care of me then."

We had a long, beautiful shower, during which I knelt and sucked him off while the water cascaded off both our bodies.  I looked up at him as I made love to his cock.  I got off on the way the water matted the gold hair on his chest and stomach and made it into swirly patterns.

When we had dried off, Gage said, grinning at me, "Since the cockstrap doesn't seem to have worked, I've got another idea.  When do you have English class?"

"Today.  It's a Monday-Wednesday-Friday class."

"Good.  Let's see, I think you told me you had a hardon in his class every day you were there with the cockstrap on?"

"Yeah.  And I never stopped to talk with the prof."

"Do you think he ever noticed you were hard?"

"I know he did.  I sit in the front row, and it's hard to hide.  I caught him looking there several times."

"Well, let's give the old guy a thrill."

"Gage, he's not old.  At least he's younger than you are, probably in his late twenties."

"Oh!  I hear the words English prof and automatically think of some old, wizzled up dude."

"Not Dr. M.  He's hot."


"Yeah, he's a little guy, five seven or so, but he's really handsome, and he's got a great body.  He wears jeans a lot, and his butt drives me crazy.  From the looks of his thighs, I'll bet he played soccer at one time."

"Mikey, you're scaring me here, babe.  Are you developing feelings for your prof?"

"Dammit, Gage, the only man I've ever really loved is you.  But I was throwing wood in English class before you made me wear the cockstrap.  But at least then I managed to control it enough to talk with him after class when I had questions."

"Questions?  You sucking up to the prof?  Trying to get him to fuck you?  Or what?"

"Gage, that hurts, man.  Look, I think I want to major in English, and Modarelli is the first English professor I've had here at Kent.  He's one of the best professors I've ever had, and he seems to be a really nice guy.  What's wrong with getting on good terms with him?  I'm getting A's so far in his course, so I don't need to suck up."

He held up his hands in surrender.  "Okay, Mike.  Didn't mean to push the wrong buttons.  But I'm so much older than you, I can't help getting jealous when you talk about all the studs you're seeing on campus."

I hugged him.  "Believe me, lover, you have nothing to worry about.  I wouldn't have told you about my `problem' if I hadn't thought you could deal with it."

He grinned. "Well, hot stuff, I've got another idea about dealing with it.  Sort of like the cockstrap only more intense.  It's okay to get boners.  At your age it's to be expected.  I just want you to remember me while you're doing it."

"More intense, huh?  What you got in mind?"

He went to his closet and came back with a butt plug.  I flinched for a moment thinking about Seth and the previous summer, but I didn't let Gage see that.

"Aww, for me?  You shouldn't have?"

"Have you ever had one of these in you before?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Have you ever had one in all day?"


"Mikey, if this brings back painful memories, we don't need to do it.  But I think this baby up your ass might be a constant reminder of what you need and who gives it to you.  Whatcha think?"

I knew what that thing was going to do to me, but Gage wanted me to try it, so what the hell.  "Sock it to me, partner!"  I bent over and grabbed my ankles.  Gage lubed the plug and gently inserted it.  It was big enough to hurt for just a moment until it popped fully in.  Then it simply gave me a very satisfying full feeling.

I wore a pair of khaki cargo pants and a cream-colored cable knit sweater.  I was leaving first that morning because I had to pick up Terry.  As Gage and I kissed just before I left, he said, "Is that thing hitting your prostate?  You're hard already."

"Yeah, you picked the right size, if that's the effect you wanted."

As I walked to the car, I knew I was in for a tough day.  I had worn the baggy pants on purpose, hoping they'd help hide the boner I knew I'd be sporting.  Walking caused the plug to massage my button.  Sitting in the car and moving my right leg to use the accelerator and brake caused the plug to massage my button.

Terry didn't seem to notice anything at first.  We dapped when he got in the car and talked about our weekend.  He knew we had taken Gus to the Browns/Colts game, so we rehashed that.  He'd seen it on television.

When I parked the car and we both got out, he looked at my crotch, grinned, and said, "Dude, that strap you're wearing must really turn you on."

I'm glad I've got dark skin, because I felt myself blushing.  "I'm not wearing the strap today, Terry."

"Well, what's got you one the bone, man?  Is Gage slipping you Viagra?  Or is it me?"

I told him about the butt plug.  He was amazed that I'd do that for Gage.  I told him that I'd do almost anything for Gage, and that I'd manage with the plug somehow.  We touched fists again and went our separate ways, agreeing to see each other at lunch, as usual.  

I was miserable in my American History course.  It was a big section.  About 100 of us sat in a huge lecture hall.  The prof read from his notes and seldom looked up.  He didn't say much of anything I hadn't heard in my high school course, so it was difficult to pay attention to what he was saying.  I found a seat in the back row.  I couldn't sit still for long.  I was acutely aware of that thing in my ass, and I couldn't help wiggling around in my seat.  The more I wiggled, the more it rubbed inside my chute, sometimes stimulating the prostate.  That felt so good I wiggled more, trying to make it hit the prostate.  After a while I was so close to cumming I had to force myself to sit still, and that was torture.  Looking down at my notebook, I discovered to my shock that I had been drawing pictures of balls and cocks and asses.  Hastily I turned a page so no one would see my doodles.

Mercifully, the professor finished.  I had to hold my book bag in front of me as I stood up.  If anyone had been paying attention, they would have known what I was doing, but I waited until everyone else had started for the door.  

My cock refused to go down.  Walking was even more stimulating than sitting.  So I had to hold the bag in front of me all the way to the library.  I lucked out there a little.  I got there before Kim did, so I was able to sit down and hide my bulging pants under the table before he got there.  But I had begun to leak, and I had to keep pulling my cargoes away from my boxers so the wet spot wouldn't soak through.

Asians are supposed to be inscrutable.  That surely seemed true of Kim.  He gave me his little grin when he sat down, and then pulled out a book and began reading, taking notes from time to time.  I could tell he was shy.  Or reserved.  But he did at least always acknowledge me when we saw each other.  I wished I had the gaydar I've read about.  I wanted to know if he was gay.  Not because I wanted to screw him or anything, though he was hot enough, God knows.  I just thought it would be nice to have another gay friend my age to talk to sometimes.

Anyway, it was impossible to concentrate on reviewing the notes I'd taken in my last English class.  There sat Kim, and I found myself studying his face.  He had delicate features, like Jason's.  So I drifted off into fantasies about Jason.  Sometimes the person who was fucking me became Kim instead of Jason.  

I became aware that I was wiggling in my seat and on the verge of cumming.  Kim looked up, gave me a surprised look, and then smiled at me again.

I had to get out of there.  I didn't want to cum in my pants, and that was about to happen.  I stuffed my notebook back into my bookbag, stood, and holding it in front of me, headed out of the reading room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Kim, smiling, watching my retreat.

I was surprised and relieved to find the nearest men's room empty.  I went into one of the stalls, closed the door, hung my bookbag on the hook on the back of the door, dropped my pants and boxers, and sat.  There was no danger of the butt plug falling out into the toilet.  That sucker was in there to stay until it was removed with a hard yank.

It took about three pumps on my slimy hot cock before I came.  I caught my cum in my hand.  And it was a handful!  Then I noticed there was no toilet paper in the stall.  Oh, well, I was no stranger to the taste of cum, my own or others', so I did the only thing I could and licked my load out of my hand.  About then I heard someone come into the restroom.  I froze.  Whoever it was obviously went to one of the urinals.  I could hear his stream splashing against the porcelain.  I stood, pulled up my boxers and cargoes, fastened up, grabbed my bookbag, and stepped out of the stall.  

Kim was washing his hands at one of the sinks.  He grinned at me and said "Hi."  I said "Hi" and washed my hands.  As Kim was leaving, he opened the door, turned back to me, and, grinning again, said, "Is that cum I smell?"  With that he left and the door swung shut.  

Damn!  I was busted!  I mean, I didn't mind if some people on campus knew I was gay.  But Kim would think I was the kind of pervert who jacked off in public restrooms.  

I still had the taste of cum in my mouth when I got to the cafeteria.  I slung my bookbag over my shoulder as I went through the line and carried my tray to an empty table in the area where Terry and I usually sat.  My cock was hard again from walking with that damned plug up my ass, and there was no way to hide it since I was carrying the try with my lunch on it.  At least Terry wasn't there, so I didn't have to suffer the embarrassment of him sitting there smirking at me as I walked the endless distance from the food line to our table.  I had set my tray on the table and put my book bag on a chair next to mine when I saw Terry coming at me, carrying his tray.

My face broke into a broad grin.  He was boned up!  His hard cock, and it looked like a real snake, was visible sticking down the left leg of his tight Levis.

"Well, well, well," I said, as he sat down.  "I see you missed me."

He blushed.  I could see it even though his summer tan hadn't completely faded.  He looked around to see how close we were to other people and then leaned toward me.  Speaking quietly, he said, "Yes, you bastard.  This is all your fault."

I chuckled.  "Terry, I didn't know you cared."

"It's not like that, Cronin.  Don't flatter yourself.  But I've been thinking all morning about you and that buttplug, getting hard in class, having to keep changing position in your seat, maybe leaking in your pants.  That is what happened, isn't it?"

"Sounds like you know from experience, buddy."

"Don't go there!  Let's just say I have an active imagination.  That IS what happened, isn't it?

"You described it perfectly, my man.  But what's that got to do with the thing sticking down your left leg?"

"Christ, was it that obvious?"

"Oh, yeah," I said, grinning.

"Well, the more I thought about you having to sit through history with that thing up your hole, the harder I got.  I even found myself wiggling around like I had one in me.  Right now if I touched my cock, I'd cum.  What about you?  You got the same problem, I suppose."

I took a bite of lasagna.  "The `anal invader' has me hard again, for sure.  But I took care of the other problem a while ago.  I couldn't stand it in the library, so I went to a john and beat off.  And I got caught!"

"No way!  What happened?"

"This guy that always sits near me in the reading room, a cute kid named Kim, walked into the men's room just after I had cum.  He pissed and washed his hands.  As I was washing my hands (I didn't tell Terry about having to eat my own cum), he asked if it was cum he smelled, grinned at me, and left."

"Okay, that's it.  I don't care if my burger gets cold.  Watch my tray for me, I'll be right back."  Terry got up and high tailed it for the nearest restroom.  I hoped he'd be lucky enough not to get caught.  The cafeteria restrooms were pretty busy places.

I stayed until he got back, but I couldn't wait for him to finish eating because I had to get to my poetry class.  "You okay?" I asked.

He grinned and sighed.  "Yeah, I feel much better."

We high fived.  "Okay, dude, see you at the car later."

"Laters, dude."

I was hard again by the time I got to Dr. M's class.  I debated sitting in the back of the room, but I had always sat in the front row, and a change at this point in the term would probably bring questions from my classmates and from the prof.  Even with the baggy cargoes, there was no hiding my boner.  What's worse, as I sat there watching him, I wasn't thinking about Gage and how much I loved him.  I was thinking about what it would be like to kiss the prof.  I imagined the feel of his mustache as we kissed.  Then my cock burped out a big spurt of precum as I imagined the feel of his mustache as he rimmed me.  I admired his beautiful bubble butt and his impressive package, both of which strained the fabric of his jeans.  Before I knew it, there was a growing wet spot in my cargoes.  I had forgotten to keep them pulled away from my boxers, so the precum had soaked through.  I crossed my legs and put my left arm across my lap, but crossing my legs did something to the position of the butt plug and I saw stars.  

Quickly uncrossing my legs, I attracted the prof's attention.  He looked first at my face, then at my pants.  He seemed startled.  Then he looked at me and gave me a tiny smile before going on with what he was saying to some blond girl on the other side of the room.  I don't know what he was saying.  I can't even remember which poem we were discussing.  I didn't even pretend to take notes that day.  All I wanted to do was get the fuck out of there, endure the drive home, and get inside our house.  I intended to plead with Gage not to make me wear the butt plug.  It wasn't helping.  It was having just the opposite effect from what he intended.  

At the end of the period, once again with my bookbag held awkwardly in front of my pants, which by now had a wet spot the size of a fifty-cent piece, I headed for the door.

"Mike."  It was the professor's voice.  "Could I speak with you for a moment, please?"

I looked back at him over my shoulder.  "I'm sorry, sir.  I really have to go now.  Can it wait until Wednesday?"

"Sure, Mike.  See you then."

I walked as fast as I could out of the building and then jogged to the parking lot.

To be continued