By Tim Mead

Chapter 4


It was nearly 11:00 on Sunday morning when Dan was dropped off by Bernie.

He heard the shower running when he stepped inside the flat he shared with Casey.  He went to his room, where he checked his cell for messages. He hadn't taken it with him the night before because he didn't want even a slight bulge in his jeans.  After finding no text or voice mail messages, he booted up his computer to check his email.  Finding nothing there but spam, which he deleted, he was on his way back to the living room when Casey stepped out of the bathroom wearing only a towel.

"Woops!  Sorry, Dan.  I didn't know you were home."

Dan didn't often have a chance to see so much of his roomie's bod, and the view was good!  Grinning appreciatively, he said, "No problem, dude."

Casey padded toward his own bedroom, so Dan got a look at the rear view, which was just as tantalizing, the best parts being hidden by terry cloth.  


Without turning around, Casey replied, "Yeah?"

"How come you never got any ink?  Just about everybody I knew in MMA had tats."

"No ink, no piercings.  I don't care what other guys wanna do to their bodies, but that's not for me."  He stepped into his room and partially closed the door.

A few minutes later, he came out in jeans and a plain white tee shirt.  He was barefoot.  And gorgeous.

"How about you?  You don't have any visible piercings or ink."  He grinned.  "You got a tat on your butt or a PA?"

Dan chuckled.  "Nope.  I guess you and I think alike about those things.  I hate to see a guy with a nice body mess it up with that stuff."

"Right."  Casey sat in the living room, resting his right ankle on his left knee.  "So where were you last night?"

"I was out, Mother."

"Hey, you can't blame me for wondering.  You've never stayed out all night before and you didn't say anything about being late."

"Well, I met up with someone."

"Duh!  I didn't think you were wandering the streets alone.  And from the smug look on your face, Sunshine, I'd say you got your ashes hauled."

"Maybe."  Dan knew he was blushing.

"Who's the lucky guy?"

"It's not really any of your business, is it?"

"You're right.  I suppose it's not.  After all, I've criticized Caldwell for shooting his mouth off.  I can't expect you to kiss and tell."

"Damn straight."

"Not a very appropriate expression, under the circumstances.  Unless it was a girl.  It wasn't a girl, was it?"

"No, Case.  It sure as fuck wasn't."

"And fuck is appropriate?"

"There you go again.  I'm not sayin'."

Casey grinned.  "Okay, okay!  You're right."

"So did you just come home and crash after work last night?"

"After this discussion, you have a lot of nerve, questioning me."

"Well, you at least know I got lucky last night.  But you don't have to tell me anything."

"I didn't have sex last night.  But there's no harm in you knowing what I did.  Seth, the guy upstairs, came in just as I did.  He invited me for a nightcap.  So we had a drink and talked.  Matter of fact we talked for a couple of hours.  It was around two when I came back down here."

"Was this the first time you and he had talked?"

"Yeah.  Before we hadn't done anything more than just nod and say hello in passing.  He's an interesting guy.  I didn't realize how late it had gotten until I came home."

"Did he give you Bailey's?"

"No, we were drinking beer."


He stretched.

"Say, Case. . . ."


"That first weekend I was here, you said there was this guy, I think his name was Jesse, that you were interested in.  Did anything happen there?"

Casey shook his head.  "Jesse's partnered up with a hot, red-headed cop.  They seem to be happy."

"Sorry that didn't work out for you."

"Thanks, but I'll live."


It was on Wednesday of that week when Dan began to notice he was getting looks from some of his classmates.

The guy who sat next to him in his first class, Terry something or other, scowled at him when Dan said, "Hey."  Maybe the guy had had a bad night or something.  Dan shrugged it off and didn't think anything more about it.

Later that morning, he noticed one of his female classmates staring at him when she thought he wasn't looking.  When he looked directly at her, she seemed embarrassed, offered a hesitant smile, and quickly redirected her gaze at the professor.

As he was leaving that class, however, a guy whose name he hadn't learned yet gave him a broad smile and said, "Dan, how's it goin'?"  Dan smiled back, mumbled a response he hoped sounded friendly, and went to the cafeteria for lunch.  He didn't see anyone he knew, so he sat at a table by himself.  He'd only been in school a few weeks, he realized.  Eventually he'd make friends.

Chewing on what was supposed to be meat loaf, Dan saw Bernie in the food line talking animatedly with two female students.  The three of them sat together.  When Dan had finished eating, he glanced at Bernie, who smiled and nodded at him.  Bernie's companions looked at Dan, looked at Bernie, who said something Dan couldn't hear, and then looked back at Dan.  They, too, were smiling.  He felt their eyes on his back as he carried his tray to the return counter and left the room.  He had no doubt what had just happened.

The next day just after his last class was dismissed, he was stuffing things in his bag when a jeans-clad package appeared before his eyes.  A nice, bulging package.  He looked up to see a smiling black face.  It belonged to a guy whose name he didn't know who sat on the other side of the room.

"You're Dan Cole, aren't you?"

Dan stood and offered his hand.  "Yeah, that's me.  Sorry, I don't know your name."

Taking his hand, the athletic-looking stranger, who was, Dan thought, really cute, said, "I'm Arnie  Compson."  He continued to hold Dan's hand a shade longer than most straight guys would have.  

"Hi, Arnie.  Good to know you."

"You wanna grab a soda or something?"

"Sure, why not?"

In addition to its huge main cafeteria, the Union had a place where one could get salads, burgers, fries, coffee and soft drinks from mid-morning until midnight.  They decided to go there.  As they waited in line, Dan was pretty sure Arnie was nudging him in the butt with his stuff.  He didn't mind, really, and it could have just been because someone behind them was crowding Arnie.  Still . . .

They found a table and sat facing each other.  

Arnie grinned at him and Dan grinned back.  He couldn't help it.  Arnie's smiling face was truly black, contrasting with his teeth and the whites of his eyes. His hair was clipped close to his head, and he wore a neatly-trimmed jaw-line beard.  He was, Dan decided, really hot.

"So how long have you known you were gay?"

"Fuck!  Am I wearing a sign or something?  What makes you think I'm gay?" Dan asked.

"Chill man!  You don't act queer.  You walk and talk and act straight enough.  I didn't mean to piss you off or anything."

"Then how . . . ?"

"Word gets around, man.  You know what I'm sayin?"

"Damn!  You been talking to Caldwell!"

Arnie turned on that brilliant smile.  "Nope.  I heard it second hand.  But I probably know things about you your mama don't."

Dan had expected all this to happen, but he thought he should pretend to be angry.


"Uh huh.  The right word.  Of course, if you were with Bernie boy, you topped when you did.  He pretty much the bottom.  Bossy, bitchy bottom sometimes, too."

"You know this from experience?"

Arnie nodded.  "Oh, yeah.  Last year he picked me up and took me back to his place.  We had a good time, you know?  But it wasn't long before all my friends knew.  It's a good thing I been out.  I guess nobody told you about Ol' Bernie."

"No, I was warned.  But I was so horny I didn't care.  And maybe I didn't believe he was really like that."

"Well, now you know.  He like that."

"You're not a freshman."

"Huh uh.  I'm a soph.  How `bout you?  You new on campus, right?"

"Uh huh.  I worked a while after high school."

Arnie wanted to know what Dan's work had been.  Soon they had traded biographies.  

Arnie was from Dayton, where his parents were both teachers.  He had an older sister who, he said, had inherited the family brains.  She was working on a master's at Vanderbilt.  That was taking so much money, even with her graduate fellowship, the family could only afford for him to attend a state school.

"So," Arnie said, finishing his cola and crumpling his napkin, "you horny?"

"Oh, yeah!"

"I live in a dorm and my roommate's straight.  He don't mind I'm gay, but he always in the room and don't like getting kicked out while I get it on with some dude.  You got a place we can go?"

Dan grinned.  "Come with me."

When they got to Dan's apartment, Casey was just leaving.

After the introductions were over, Dan asked, "Are you working tonight, Case?"

"No, I'm meeting Seth.  We're having supper at Applebee's."

"When do you plan on getting back?"

Casey grinned and raised an eyebrow.  "Oh, a couple of hours from now, I suppose."

"Great!  Have a good dinner.  And say hi to Seth."

"Will do," Casey said.  And then he left.

"Damn, your roomie's a hunk.  He looks a lot like you.  You two aren't related, are you?"

"Nope, but we get that a lot."

Arnie grinned.  "Well, man, we only got a couple of hours."

Dan pushed his new friend against the wall, humped his hard dick against Arnie's, and ran his tongue over his lips.

"Mmmm!  Mmmm!" Arnie groaned, opening his mouth to receive Dan's tongue.

Surprised that he was being so aggressive, Dan was on the verge of pulling back.  Then he realized Arnie was fully into the kiss.

When both were beginning to sweat and suck in deep breaths, Arnie said, "You got a bedroom somewhere?  I don't want to fuck standin' up if we don't have to!"

Dan took him by the hand and hauled him to the bedroom.  Quickly shedding their clothes, they found themselves on the bed, kissing and humping once more, their precum making everything slick.

"Hold on, dude," Arnie said.  "I'm gettin' too close, and I'd like to stretch this out a little, okay?"

"Yeah," Dan gasped.  "Sorry."

Arnie flashed his dazzling grin, and Dan's super-hard cock twitched.

"No need for sorry.  You jus' take a deep breath and lie back.  Let me set the pace."

Dan knew he was a couple of years older than his friend, but he was pretty sure Arnie had more experience in matters of sex, so he tried to relax.

Arnie slowly licked his way from Dan's nipples to his cock as Dan groaned his appreciation.  

"Dude, I'm gonna blow," he said.

Arnie looked up, letting Dan's cock fall from his mouth.

"You wanna fuck me?"

"Oh, god, yes.  If it's okay."

"Well, we don't want you explodin' jus' yet."  He lay beside Dan and pulled his knees up.  "Why don't you get me loosened up?"

Dan moved so he could see the ebony ass with its purple pucker, inhaled deeply, and dived in.  

He remembered a day when he was about twelve.  He'd seen a friend's bare butt at the community swimming pool.  It had caused a hitch in his breathing.  And his hairless little dick had gotten instantly hard.  It was weird.  He felt an overwhelming desire to . . . he didn't know what.  At that point in his life he had no idea what one boy might do to, or with, another's butt.  Still, from then on, boys, their butts, and their dicks fascinated him.

Now, of course, he knew the uses of dicks and butts, and he embarked on his task with gusto.  And once more his dick, no longer hairless or little, was throbbingly hard.

Afterward he couldn't remember how long he'd worked on Arnie's ass.  He was brought back to awareness when Arnie said, "I'm way past ready. You gonna fuck me or what?"

Dan retrieved the condoms and lube, preparing himself and Arnie.  

"Take it slow, man.  I don't do this very often."

Unsure whether the lack of frequency referred to sex in general or bottoming in particular, Dan entered slowly, pausing when Arnie winced or sucked in breath.

Finally, though, he was fully in, and he got the nod to continue.

He came long before he wanted to, collapsing afterward onto Arnie, who put his arms around Dan and said, "You good, dude!"

"Let me get my breath, and I'll help you out."

"I hope so.  I been ready."

Dan pushed himself up, using the palms of his hands on the mattress, and looked down at Arnie.  "What's with your talk?  One minute you sound like a teacher's kid, the next you're all ghetto."

"This is not the time to be having a discussion of my speech, Dan.  I'm dying.  Are you going to suck me or do you expect me to take care of myself?  I could stick it in your ass, you know."

Dan chuckled.  "No, that won't be necessary."  He removed the condom, tied it off, and tossed it onto the floor.  Then he slid down Arnie's sweat-slick body and took the pinkish cock head into his mouth.

"Man, now that's what I'm talkin' about!"

After they were finished, they showered together.  When he was dressed and getting ready to leave, Dan said, "Um, thanks for introducing yourself today.  It's good to have another friend.  Do you think we could do this again sometime?"

"Yeah, let's hang out.  Maybe go to the movies this weekend or something.  And for sure we gotta do this again.  But next time, I'm gonna plug your fine ass."

Dan was about to protest he didn't take it up the ass.  He'd had enough of that with Frank.  Too much of it.  It wasn't something he enjoyed.  He didn't get a chance to say anything, however, because Casey came in.

"Hey, men.  You two have a good time?"  His smirk showed he knew exactly what they'd been doing.

Dan wondered if the smell of sex had gotten as far as the living room.

Arnie pulled Dan to him, gave him a big, wet kiss, and said "Thanks, Dan."  Then he turned to Casey and said, "Yeah, we had a good time."

"Cool," Casey said after Arnie left, "I think you've got a tiger by the tail with that one."

"Do you know him?"

"Not really.  But I've seen him at Nellie's once in a while."

"Did you ever see him with Caldwell?"

"Not that I can remember.  He hangs with a couple of guys.  One of them's black and the other Asian.  But speaking of Caldwell, you were with him Saturday night, weren't you?"

"How do you know?"

"I heard it from Justin and Bailey.  I had lunch with them.  I think I pointed them out the night we watched them play baseball."

"Oh, yeah.  I remember them.  Are they friends of Bernie's?"

"I don't think so, though they see him in Nellie's from time to time, I suppose.  But, look, Cool, there are no secrets in the gay community.  Or damn few, anyway.  You know,  I did warn you what would happen if you played around with Caldwell."

"Yeah, and I appreciate your concern.  I'll probably not do anything with him again, but I can't see any harm's been done by his talking.  I've gotten a few scowls, but I've also been smiled at a lot today by people I don't even know.  And I met Arnie because he'd heard the story about me."

"You're turning into a player, aren't you, bud?  I mean, you were out all night Saturday and now you're having afternooners.  What's next?"

"Do you disapprove?"

"Naw, man.  It's not for me to approve or disapprove.  I guess I just didn't expect you to get involved with the scene so quick."

Casey went to his room to study, and Dan rummaged around in the kitchen until he found something to eat.


All that summer Dan had debated what major to select.  He had several talks about it with his father, who basically said he should choose something that really interested him.  By the time he actually had to select his fall courses, Dan thought he might like to declare the Athletic Training/Clinic Management major, so along with a couple of general university requirements, he signed up for a biology course that was pre-requisite for some of the courses in that major.

He found biology challenging but enjoyable.  And he made a new friend.  His lab partner was Nicole Fischer, a 5'4" knockout with black hair, green eyes, and a body to make straight guys drool.  She, like him, was a first-year student, but unlike him was a pre-med major.  They became instant friends.

After their second lab, Dan had invited her to the Union for a soda, and they'd gotten into the habit of doing that.  He learned she was from Strongsville,  she had no sibs, and her mother was a lawyer.  Her parents had divorced, and her father, an engineer of some sort, was in Houston with his second wife . . . whom Nicole didn't like.  She'd played soccer in high school, but decided not to play at Colby because being pre-med was tough enough without extra-curriculars.

They'd traded stories about high school.  She seemed fascinated by his MMA experience, though she admitted she knew nothing about it and had never watched a match.  

She reached across the table and ran her finger down the scar on Dan's forehead.

"Is that where you got this?"

"Yeah.  And the crooked nose."

She shuddered dramatically.  "I don't know why you'd let yourself in for something like that.  It seems so . . . so violent."

"My mother says it's a brutal sport."

"And you don't think so?"

"Well, guys get cut.  Get their arms or legs broken sometimes.  But that's part of the game."

"Are you saying the risk is part of the thrill?"

Dan took a sip of his Coke.  "I hadn't thought of it just that way, but yeah.  I suppose  you're right."

Another time he'd told her he was gay, which she said she had trouble believing.  But then she wanted to know all about when and how he'd come out, how his parents and friends had reacted.  After that she hadn't brought up the subject again.  They just chatted over their sodas as friends will, talking about their biology prof, the lab instructor, other people in the class, politics, Cougar football, and anything else that crossed their minds.

One afternoon as they were leaving the lab, Dan asked, "Cokes as usual?"

She smiled.  If he hadn't been gay . . . .

"How about a beer instead?"

He was surprised.  But for his friend, he'd drink a beer.  "Sure, why not?  The Cougar?"

"Would you mind if we went to Nellie's?"

"Um, Nicki, you know that's a gay bar, don't you?"

She grinned.  "Uh huh.  And I'd never have the nerve to go in there by myself.  But I'm curious.  I want to see what it's like.  Will you take me?"

He grinned back.  "Aren't you worried about your reputation?"

"Fuck no!"

"In that case, ma'am, it would be my pleasure."

When they were seated in a booth at Nellie's, Nicole ordered a Bud Light.  Dan ordered the same.  He'd have preferred wine, but he thought it might look too girly, especially since Nicole was having beer.

It hadn't occurred to him that Nicole wasn't old enough to drink legally until the waiter carded them both.  He was surprised when Nicole calmly handed him a driver's license.

"Can't get by in college without a good fake ID," she said, grinning, after the waiter was out of earshot.

Dan wondered how she had gotten it, but he didn't ask.

When the beer arrived, they clinked bottles.  He decided it tasted like cold piss, but didn't say so.

A look around the room revealed no sign of Bernie Caldwell.  But then he had heard Bernie frequented the place on Friday and Saturday nights. He did, however, see Arnie Compson sitting with two guys he now recognized as Justin Quinn and Bailey Stone.  Arnie looked at him, grinned, and raised an eyebrow.  Dan, figuring he was wondering about Nicole, just grinned back.

"So," he said, turning his attention back to his companion, "whatcha think?"

"Of this place?"

Dan nodded.

"It's not what I expected."

"You were thinking it'd have rainbow flags or pink velvet walls or something?"

She gave an embarrassed laugh.  "I don't know, exactly.  But this looks like any other bar."

"Except for the clientele."

"It's just your typical college crowd, like at the Cougar."

"Well, later in the day and on weekends, it's not all college people.  But look around, tell me who you see."

"Oh!  It's mostly guys.  And a few women in couples.  Except for the ones throwing darts back there."

"You and I are the only mixed gender couple in the place, Nicki,"

"Ya think they'll throw us out?"

Dan laughed.  "Nah.  This place is pretty het friendly."

They lingered awhile, sipping their beer and talking about the people in the bar.  Nicole spotted a guy she knew and commented, "Oh, I didn't know he was gay."

"He may not be.  Remember, you're here, and you're not."

"Oh, yeah.  I suppose you're right."

She looked at her watch.  "Gotta go.  I have a date tonight, so I have to make myself ravishing."

"You're pretty close already."

When she put her hand on his cheek, it tingled.  "Danny,  you're so sweet!  Thanks for bringing me here.  It's been . . . educational."

On the sidewalk out front, she said, "See you in lab."

"Right.  Bye."

As he walked toward the apartment, he felt good, happy that he and Nicole had become friends.


It was another Saturday morning.  Dan didn't get up until 9:30.  The weather, which had been sunny and warm, had changed overnight.  Now it was chilly, gray, and drizzly.  After he'd showered, dressed, and had breakfast, he thought he should work out.  The University Recreation Center, however, was packed.  So, since he was overdue for a haircut, he headed for a barber shop he'd noticed not far from campus.  Upon arriving there, however, he discovered that, though four barbers were working, a crowd of guys were waiting.  

I'll try some afternoon next week, he said to himself.

He stopped by Kroger's, which was also crowded, to pick up some groceries.

After putting away his purchases, he spent the rest of the morning catching up with his emailing.  He wrote his mandatory epistle to his parents. It was his mother who had insisted on an email at least weekly, but it was always his father who responded.

After a lunch of canned minestrone soup, he was at loose ends.  The Cougars were playing away somewhere, so there was no home game to attend.

Thinking he'd find a football game on television, he flicked on the set and began surfing channels.  He discovered  Spike was showing old UFC matches that afternoon and heard the announcer saying the next fight would feature Roger Huerta and Leonard Garcia.

Dan had seen that contest before.  It featured two of his favorite lightweights, which was his own weight class.  Huerta was gorgeous.  Garcia wasn't, but he was scrappy and enthusiastic.  Throughout the fight the camera caught him grinning at Huerta.  He obviously loved what he was doing.  

Sports Illustrated featured a picture of Huerta on its cover after that match, the first time an MMA fighter had ever made the SI cover.  

The match was closely contested, the fighters staying busy throughout.  Joe Rogan and Mike Goldberg, the announcers, raved about what a great fight it was.

Dan enjoyed seeing it as much the second time around as he had when it was initially broadcast.  What he liked best, however, was when, at the end of the fight, the two combatants dropped to their knees, bowed to each other, and, putting their arms on each other's shoulders, they touched foreheads.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Dan thought, That's what it's all about!

Just then Casey came in.

"Whatcha doin', Cool?"

"Just watched the Huerta-Garcia fight."

"Man, I'm sorry I missed it.  That was a great fight."

"Sure was."

Casey hung up his windbreaker, toed off his sneakers, and sat on the couch next to Dan.

"So, you workin' tonight?"

Casey clasped his hands behind his head and sighed.  "Yeah.  It's not bad work and Saturday's the best night for tips, but this all sure does cut into my social life."

Dan chuckled.  "I didn't know you had a social life."

"I know a few guys, but it seems like they're all paired up."  

"There's always Bernie."

"Shut up!"  Casey grabbed the remote and fiddled with it until he found a football game.  It was Michigan playing Toledo, a game the Wolverines usually won.  Colby State would play Toledo at the end of the season, and that game, Casey said, was always a barn burner.

The two friends watched the game on TV until Casey had to leave for the restaurant.

Dan wondered what he'd do with the rest of the evening.  He was debating going to a movie by himself.  He thought he could always drop by Nellie's afterward and see what was happening.  And then the phone rang.

It was Seth.

"Hi, Dan.  Got any plans for the evening?"

"Hi, Seth.  I was feeling at loose ends.  What's up?"

"Since it's kind of fallish outside, I've fixed a pot of chili and thought I'd make some corn bread to go with it.  Wanna share?"  

"Sure.  I'd like that.  Can I bring anything?"

"Not necessary.  Just come on up whenever you're ready."

Dan used the bathroom, washed his hands, checked his hair, and swished some mouthwash.

The evening was looking up.  Homemade chili was probably going to be better than anything he'd have come up with for supper.  The cold rain made braving the Saturday night mobs at the local restaurants even less appealing.  Besides, Seth was an interesting guy.  You never knew what he was going to ask next.

Seth served beer with supper, insisting that not even the most robust red would stand up to the chili.  Dan was surprised he enjoyed the cold Boston Lager with Seth's spicy concoction.  The cornbread had green chilies in it as well, quite unlike the cornbread Dan's grandmother made when she cooked up a pot of bean soup.

For dessert Seth had cut up pears and poached them briefly in port wine.  He served them with a dollop of whipped cream and a bit of freshly grated nutmeg on top.

Dan was learning that Seth didn't talk much about himself.  It wasn't that he was evasive.  He always responded to direct questions, but he just didn't volunteer much information.  Instead, without seeming to be quizzing him, he managed to keep Dan talking about his activities.  Dan told him about meeting Arnie and Nicole.

They took coffee to the living area where they sat and continued their conversation.  They talked about the economy, the situation in the Middle East, the President and his policies.

Then Seth asked, "More coffee?"

"No, thanks.  I'm good."

Seth re-crossed his legs and said, "Since I learned about you and Casey, I've watched a couple of MMA programs on Spike and Versus."

"You did?"  

"Yes.  Are you surprised?"

"Uh huh.  It doesn't seem like your kind of thing."

"I did it to learn more about my new friends downstairs."  A smile flickered across his face.  "And I have a question for you."


"I'm wondering if you ever fantasized about having sex with your opponent."

Dan grinned.  "Not in the ring."

"Ring?  I thought you guys used those cages."

"That's only the bigger promotions.  The small-time ones use rings."

"Oh.  Well, you were saying . . . ."

"When you're in the ring, you're too focused on your opponent, trying to anticipate what he's going to do, looking for ways to hit him or kick him or knock him out or take him down and submit him or at least score points."

"I get that.  But here's what I'm thinking.  I used to know a boxer who told me he fantasized about the loser sucking off the winner or getting fucked in the ring while the audience watched.  Did thoughts like that ever go through your mind?"

"No, can't say they ever did."

"So, does that idea turn you on?"

Dan was quiet for a few moments while he thought about it.

"Not really.  One of the differences between MMA and boxing is the respect we're taught to show our opponent.  I mean, in the big time, the media sort of encourage trash talk between guys who are going to fight each other soon.  But a lot of MMA disciplines come out of Asia, and, like I said, you tend to show respect.  When the announcer introduces you, you bow to the people on all four sides of the ring.  And it's usual to congratulate your opponent after the match."

"Yeah, a couple of times I saw guys who'd been trying to destroy each other for fifteen minutes hug each other after the fight.  And doesn't the fighter go to the other guy's corner and shake hands with his opponent's corner men?"

Dan nodded.  "You were paying attention."

Seth grinned.  "Just trying to learn.  So the idea of the guy you just defeated naked on his knees with his face nuzzled up to your crotch while the audience watches doesn't turn you on?"

"Not really.  I wouldn't want to disrespect the guy I'd beaten.  It's tough enough to lose without that kind of thing."

"How about some Bailey's?  You said you liked it the last time we had it."

"I'm still stuffed from supper, but thanks anyway."

"Okay, back to fantasies for a minute.  Imagine yourself.  You've lost a close match.  You're not hurt.  Maybe you were just careless and he submitted you.  Is that the way you say it?"

"Uh huh."

"So now, according to the rules of this organization, you have to take off your shorts and your jock and kneel in front of the winner.  He pushes your head into his junk and makes you chew on it through his shorts."

Dan chuckled.  "Wouldn't be possible.  We wear cups under our jocks."

"Okay, so you pull down his shorts and jock.  Maybe he makes you sniff the jock, or lick the inside of his cup.  Then you have to blow him."

"I've definitely never had that fantasy."

"Or," Seth continued, "what if he decides to bend you over and fuck you, right there in front of the whole crowd?"

Dan closed his eyes and thought about it.  Something like that could never happen.  But what if it did?  What if he had to get naked and suck the winner or eat his ass?  Or get fucked . . . with everybody watching?

Oh, shit!

Because it was a cool day, Dan had worn jeans.  His swelling cock, trapped in the denim, was uncomfortable.  But he didn't want to adjust himself because he didn't want Seth to know about his erection.  

"Are you thinking about that, Dan?"  Seth seemed perfectly serious.


"Would you stand up?"


"Humor me, please."

"But . . . ."

"Could it be your reason for not wanting to stand up is that you've got a stiffie?"

"Well, I, uh . . . ."

Finally, Seth grinned.  "Look, Dan, this is pretty personal, and obviously you don't have to answer my questions.  But I'm interested in the mind-set of fighters and I'm interested in getting to know you better."

"I'm hard, okay?  And I need to fix my dick.  It's run out of space."

"Don't mind me.  I'll leave the room if you want.  I'm really not a perv."

"That's not necessary."

Dan stood, unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, rearranged his dick, which was now harder even than before, fastened himself up, and sat down.

"That's very interesting."

"What?  My cock?"

"No.  Your reaction.  Would you say you're a top or a bottom?"

"Oh, a top, definitely."


Dan nodded.  "Yep."

Seth looked at him for perhaps fifteen seconds.  It seemed a much longer time.

"What?" Dan asked.

"I wouldn't want to generalize from that evidence alone, Danny, but I'd guess you are by nature a submissive."

"A submissive?  You mean as in domination and that kind of shit?"

Seth nodded.

"No way, man!"

"Okay, if you say so.  But you might want to think about it."


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