Date: Sun, 28 Oct 2001 09:02:17 EST
From: MaineBoyXY@aol.com
Subject: Student Orientation, Chapter 4

Disclaimer and Legal Stuff: Don't read this if you're not supposed to,
either because you live in a regressive community or you don't like
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distribute this story, that's fine, just don't edit it, and leave my
name on it. Thanks.


                              Student Orientation
                                  Chapter Four
                                       By
                               MaineBoyXY@aol.com


After I wiped my ass and upper thighs with my damp boxers, I tossed them
aside and pulled out a fresh set of clothes. One thing follows from
another, and after I got dressed, I started unpacking and putting my
clothes and belongings away. By the time I'd gone through all the
boxes, and loaded the drawers of the desk and the shelves in the closet
and made the bed with the sheets I'd packed, the sun had changed angles
and the shadows had lengthened over the lake. I looked at the clock and
it was nearly 6 o'clock.

Tom had said to stop by his room at 6, and we'd see about dinner. I had
been thinking about what had happened in the shower, and then later after
he, Hayden, and I had unloaded my car. On one hand, Tom was a nice guy,
the way he welcomed me and then helped me get settled in. On the other
hand, he could be a complete asshole, turning on the shower after I'd
sucked him off the first time. He'd practically pimped me out to his
friend, and then all of a sudden, he'd gotten pissed off about it. I
couldn't figure out whether he was pissed at me -- hell, I only did it
because he told me to -- or himself. The waters were even more muddied
after that directive not to hook up with anyone else.

What did he want from me? How much did I really care? I'd told him
I'd do whatever he told me to do. Did I mean that, or had I just said
it in the heat of the moment, as he fisted my cock and I craved climax?
Would the difference even matter to him, and what would he do about it if
it did? I looked down at the now dry clothes in the corner, those I'd
worn earlier in the day. I couldn't see the crust, but as I looked at
my boxers, I new that Tom's cum had dried in them. He was fucking hot,
I knew that, the way his hair hung over his forehead, the tall, wiry
shape of his body, the blond hair, the green eyes, and the smile. The
perfect smile. And he was the best fuck I'd ever had; he knew how to
take head, he knew how to fuck, and he could get me off like I'd never
felt before.

I looked at the clock again, and it was only a few minutes from the
hour. I turned and left my room, locked the door, and walked down the
hallway. The other doors opened off the hall, but the hall just
dead-ended into Tom's. I stood for a moment, then knocked. As soon as
I did, I remembered I hadn't showered or cleaned up, really. I wondered
if more of Tom's cum had leaked out into the fresh boxers I'd put on,
and whether I smelt of sweat or sex. My mind leapt quickly to the
thought of going back and grabbing a shower, but the door opened before I
could act.

"Hey, Jeff," Tom smiled easily. There was no expectation, no
glowering; it was as if we were old friends and I'd stopped by for a
visit. He opened the door to let me in, and I could see the relatively
expansive room he had as RA. It was a single and it was about two-thirds
the width of my room, but it stretched across the width of the dorm.
There was a door-less wall separating the sleeping area on the left from
the lounge area, which doubled as a study. There was a window on the
left and right walls, and three across the long back wall, which would
have been the side of the dorm. On the back wall, in the right corner,
was a short counter, under which stood a half-sized refrigerator and on
which stood a microwave and coffee maker. There was a sink in the corner
of the counter, and two cabinets hung from the ceiling over it.

"Jesus Christ!" I muttered as I walked into his palace. He had a rug
on the floor, a sofa, an armchair, and an entertainment center with a TV,
VCR, and PlayStation. A stereo was in one corner, and he walked over to
it.

"The stuff is mine, but the room is a perk of the job," he commented
nonchalantly. He picked up his wallet and keys, and turned back to me.
"I hope you like Italian. Hayden and Phil, from Robinson, wanted
pasta."

Robinson Hall was the third dorm. The one Tom and I were in was Woodman,
and the one I'd seen Tom and Hayden walk out from to play Frisbee
earlier was Marshall. I could figure out that Hayden and Phil must be
RAs like Tom, Hayden from Marshall and Phil from Robinson. As I turned
to leave Tom's room with Tom behind me, I wondered what Phil looked
like, and if I'd get pimped out to him, too.

After he'd stepped into the hall and locked his door, Tom draped his arm
over my shoulders and began to guide me down the hall to the stairs.
"Did you like what we did earlier?" he asked me in a quiet voice.

"Yeah, I liked it," I admitted. I had liked it. It had been the best
sex I'd ever had. We continued down the stairs and out into the quad.

Hayden was already there, and he was talking to a short, overweight guy.
If that was Phil, I prayed Tom wouldn't expect me to service him. He
wore glasses and had a prematurely receding hairline. It was indeed
Phil, and when he looked up as we pushed through the doorway, he was
surprised to see me. I was surprised Hayden hadn't already let him in
on exactly who I was and how I had made Hayden's acquaintance.

"Phil, this is Jeff Gaskins. He's here a day early because he has no
life or something," Tom said. "Hayden and I have taken pity on our
young drudge, and we're welcoming him to campus with dinner and the
enriching company of upperclassmen."

"Hey, Jeff," Phil said, extending his hand. I shook it blankly. I had
expected Tom to introduce me as his new fuck toy. "Who's driving?"
Phil asked.

"Well, I'd make Jeff chauffeur, seeing as he's both new and benefiting
from our years of wisdom, experience, and maturity tonight, but he drives
a crappy coupe and that's not going to hold all four of us after we've
loaded up," Tom answered. "So I nominate SUV-boy," he looked at
Hayden.

"Yeah, pick the guy who gets the worst gas mileage," Hayden grumbled,
and we walked over to the domestic sport utility parked in the corner of
the lot. It wasn't a long ride to the restaurant, and it was pretty
obvious on walking in that the place lived for the college business. It
was deserted except for the wait staff huddled in a corner around a TV.
A middle aged woman turned as we entered, smiled, and with a few cliché
words of welcome, escorted us to a booth and handed out menus. Tom sat
next to me on the outside of one bench, and Phil and Hayden shared the
other with Hayden directly across from me. The waitress left with our
drink order and I began to look over the card.

"Is he still hungry?" Hayden asked Tom with a smirk. Phil looked at
Hayden quizzically, then turned back to the menu. Tom glared at Hayden,
and I looked back down at my menu and tried to disappear into it.
"What?" I heard Hayden ask Tom, mockingly, only to be returned with
silence.

When the waitress returned with our drinks, she took our orders. Tom
asked for lasagne, Phil for veal parmesan, Hayden for manicotti, and I
ordered spaghetti. As soon as she was out of earshot, Hayden leaned in
towards me. "You'll like the spaghetti here. They serve it with
meatballs. Big, meaty meatballs. Quite succulent." As Phil watched
the exchange, I felt myself turning deep red.

"That's enough," Tom said quietly. I recognized the burning look in
his eyes, but this time they were staring Hayden down, not me.

"What the fuck is going on here, anyway?" Phil asked, looking around
the table as Tom stared at Hayden, Hayden smirked at me, and I prayed to
the place mat in front of me to swallow me up.

Hayden smiled at Phil. "Jeff's a faggot. He has a thing for Tom, and
Tom and I made his dreams come true this afternoon."

Phil raised his eyebrow at me. "He's a faggot? He doesn't look like
a faggot."

I could feel the heat on my face as I sat there, head bent. "Sure,
he's a faggot. Sucks cock like a dream. That's why I said he'd love
the meatballs here. Too bad it's not Italian sausage night. Go on,
Tom, tell him." Hayden taunted. I tilted my head slightly, and looked
up at Tom out of the corner of my eye. His face was taut as he stared
Hayden down.

Finally, he broke his silence. "Suck me." It made no sense. After a
second, he turned his face to me and repeated. "I said, suck me."

I looked up, eyes wide. My mouth gaped open. "Me?!" I was
incredulous.

"Who the fuck else?" he asked angrily.

"Here?!" I asked. I looked away to the corner where the wait staff was
again huddled, oblivious to us. I turned to Hayden, whose face was
broken out in a wide smile. Phil's eyes were wide, in surprise and
something else. Maybe a touch of empathetic embarrassment. I turned
back to Tom, my eyes pleading. His were unwavering.

I thought about my earlier uncertainty. About what role I thought Tom
might want for me, and whether or not I wanted to accept it. I thought
about how good he looked, and how nice he could be, and how great the sex
had been. I thought about how awesome it would be to be his lover, in
ordinary circumstances: I was at college, he was hot, we could fuck like
bunnies and no one from home would ever know, or anyone else for that
matter. I felt my eyes watering slightly.

I looked down, mainly to break eye contact with him, but I found myself
looking at his crotch. I could see the plain, smooth khaki of his shorts
stretched across his lap. As I blinked, I thought about how he'd worn
no underwear earlier, and how hot it had made me that he freeballed. I
wondered for second whether he always dressed like that or if today had
been special. Maybe he hadn't unpacked his underwear box, or maybe he
hadn't done laundry. I thought about his cock, and how smooth it had
felt, and how long and thin it looked. I thought about how it had tasted
in my mouth, and how it had felt in my ass.

I thought about reaching out and petting it through those shorts. I
thought about how it would feel to Tom to have my hand touching his
package through his clothes. I thought about how it would feel against
my hand, warm and soft under the smooth material. In my mind's eye, I
saw my hand reach over and touch him, caressing his lap. I imagined
myself cupping my fingers under his balls, massaging his sack. I
pictured my fingertips reaching in to grasp the metal zipper and lower
it. I could even hear the quiet noise of the fly opening. I daydreamed
about lowering my face to the gaping cloth, right there in the
restaurant, in front of Hayden and Phil, and behind the backs of the
staff.

It was only when I felt Tom grab my shoulder that I realized I was
actually moving downward. My brain re-engaged, and I saw that Tom's fly
was open. I saw my hand on his thigh. I had no idea how long I had
spaced out, or what had caused it. I looked up, and Tom's face was
completely serene, and a quick glance let me know that Phil was intently
reading the back of a packet of artificial sweetener and Hayden was
staring at me, his turn to be surprised.

"Your spaghetti will be here in a minute, Jeff," Tom said softly. I
swallowed hard as the color drained from my face. Tom reached down and
zipped himself back up, and I lifted my hands to the table. "Phil, I'm
sorry Hayden has embarrassed you. He's always been a bit of a jackass,
but he's surpassed himself tonight."

He turned to Hayden. "I told you, he's mine," he said so quietly it
was barely audible. "You will not take control of the situation by
trying to humiliate him, and you know damn well you can't embarrass me.
Don't ever test me again, because you will lose, and next time, it will
cost you your ass. I decide what happens, and where, and when, and how,
not you, so don't ever pull this again." I could feel the ice in his
voice, and as his words disappeared into the ether and I caught the
appearance of our waitress through the kitchen door, laden tray in hand.

Tom reached over and squeezed my knee, then unwrapped his napkin from his
silverware and smiled towards the approaching meal.

____________________________________________________________________________


Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in posting Chapter Four,
attributable to technical difficulties with hardware (Compaq works very
hard to maintain its last-place rating in customer service) and the
timing of midterms. For those disappointed at the lack of sex in this
chapter, readers of my previous works know I include one character
development chapter in every story, and I try to make up for it by
packing the next chapter, which will be forthcoming. Thanks to all who
have emailed.