Date: Fri, 26 Mar 1999 19:06:53 -0500 From: Greg Eckhardt Subject: Dorm Shower Lover - Part 6 Hello All, At long last, here is the sixth and final part of my story. As always, please send me any comments you may have. I love to hear from guys who have read my stuff. My e-mail address is eckhardt@injersey.com. Please note that this story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental. It is intended for adults who are not offended by descriptions of male/male sexuality. Do not read it if you are under legal age in your area or if you are offended by such material. You are free to copy this story for your own use, but please do not modify it in any way or republish it in any forum. Thank you. * * * * * * * * * * * * Dorm Shower Lover By Greg Eckhardt Chapter 6 The semester was already more than half over when I crossed paths with Jeff again. On an otherwise ordinary Monday afternoon, I had stopped for lunch in Brower Commons, having finished with my morning classes down in Voorhees Mall. I was done eating and just about to leave when I noticed Jeff sitting alone at a table on the far side of the cavernous dining hall. It was a small surprise to see him. I certainly hadn't forgotten him, but I had begun to assume that he had indeed transferred to another school. Jeff didn't see me, so I could've slipped away unobserved, which was a tempting proposition. Did I really want to start anything with him again? Treacherously, the baser side of my nature answered with a resounding affirmative. Hoping that it wasn't too much of a mistake, I decided to go over and say hello. While I picked my way through the crowded tables, Jeff started to get up. He stood there a moment, packing up his knapsack and putting the refuse from his lunch onto a tray. As I moved up beside him, he still didn't realize I was there, so I took a moment to drink him in. He was as gorgeous as ever. Wearing sharply-creased, pin-striped gray slacks held up by suspenders, a white dress shirt set off with a maroon paisley tie, and freshly-polished black oxfords, he looked like a wet-dream version of a young stockbroker. As I watched, he put on a suit jacket that matched the trousers. He had his glossy black hair neatly combed, which was a rarity for him. His goatee was also immaculately trimmed. He was obviously decked out to impress someone. Seized by the illogic born of jealousy, I thought right away of Susan, the lucky wench who had been his girlfriend since high school. Over the din of conversation around us, I cleared my throat noisily to give him warning, then called out, "Hey, Jeff!" He turned in my direction, slightly startled. Recognizing me, he instantly flashed that dazzling smile of his. "Hi, Craig! How're you doin'?" Slinging the knapsack over one shoulder and balancing the lunch tray in his left hand, he extended his right hand to me. We shook. His grip was firm and I responded in kind. Our hands remained clasped for perhaps a fraction of a second longer than necessary for the greeting. His eyes held me in that piercing gaze that I knew so well. "Fine, just fine. How about you?" I replied, sinking into those sapphire pools. "Great. So what have you been up to?" "Oh, the usual: Up to my neck in schoolwork and all that." I shrugged, not willing to go into detail there. "Same here." "You're looking sharp," I said, pointedly eyeing him up and down. "Got a date?" He laughed. "Oh, no. I'm just headed to an interview for kind of an internship over the winter break." "Hey, that's great. Good luck." "Thanks," he said. After a pause, he added, his tone suddenly more serious, "Listen. I've really got to get going. I'm probably going to be late as it is." "Oh, I'm sorry!" "No, it's okay. I just don't want you to think that I'm blowing you off. I'm glad we ran into each other. I'd really like to get together and catch up." "Sure, that'd be great." "Okay, then. Let me have your number, and I'll give you a call so we can set it up." He set down the tray and fished a slip of paper and a pen out of his knapsack. Ripping the paper in half, he gave me a piece along with the pen. After I scrawled my number on the paper and handed both items back to him, he wrote his own number on the other scrap and gave it to me. "All right," he resumed, "I'll give you a call tonight. Will you be around?" "I should be, yeah." "Great. I'll talk to you later then. Bye!" Saying that, he charged away towards the exit. "Okay, bye." I watched him as he rushed off. What was I getting myself into? * * * The rest of the day I was nervous and excited. Had I consumed a gallon of espresso, I would have been less jittery. As it was, I bounced around on an adrenaline high. It was fortunate that all my classes were done for the day because I was totally incapable of sitting still and concentrating. After lunch I headed back to my room, where I tried unsuccessfully to do some studying. My roommate was absent and the dorm was exceptionally quiet, which would have made for ideal conditions under other circumstances. I went through the motions of sitting at my desk and opening my books, but it was all to no avail. The pages in my notebook stared up at me blindly. They could not distract me from thinking of Jeff. Certain that I was destined for more heartbreak, I wanted him nonetheless. It was patently self-destructive to pursue him, but I didn't care. The whole scandalous affair with Mitch had shown me that my true feelings had not changed. If the only way I could have Jeff was on his terms, then so be it. Love doesn't read price tags, and it won't accept substitutions. The afternoon dragged on unmercifully. I glared at the clock every five minutes, cursing its plodding numbers. When five o'clock came, I went over to the dining hall for an early dinner, not because I was the least bit hungry, but simply for something to do. I returned to my room less than a half-hour later, having only nibbled a few bites. Changing clothes and tidying up the room killed a few minutes. Then I parked myself in front of the TV, flipping channels aimlessly. The phone rang at the stroke of eight o'clock. It was fortunate that John had come in and gone out without lingering, so I could take the call in private. I picked up the receiver tremulously. "Hello?" I said. "Hi, Craig?" It was Jeff. I took a quick breath and tried to keep my voice steady. "Yeah. Jeff?" "You got it. What's up?" I refrained from reading into that question, saying simply, "Not much. I'm just studying." So I lied. He didn't need to know that I'd been sitting around pining for him all evening. "I hope I'm not interrupting." "Not at all," I said, truthfully this time. "So how'd your interview go?" "Pretty well, I think. I'll find out at the end of the week if I got the job." "That's good." "So what have you been doing with yourself?" I really wished he'd quit it with the double-entendres, however unintentional they might be. Not knowing what else to say, I found myself repeating what I'd said earlier, "Oh, the usual: Keeping up with schoolwork and all that. I can't say I've done anything exciting in a while." Mitch popped into my mind, but I wasn't about to mention him to Jeff. Instead, I asked, "How 'bout you?" "Pretty much the same," he said, then added wearily, "This semester's been tough. I've got some hard classes this time around. That's been keeping me busy." "I hear ya," I said sympathetically. "Been there, done that. But this year hasn't been too bad. I'm busy, but not overwhelmed." "I'm going nuts. Thank God, we're almost done. I'm only hoping next semester will be better." "Amen, brother!" I shouted with my best evangelical intonation. He chuckled, then asked, "D'you do anything special over the summer?" "Oh, not really. Basically, I just hung out at home. I got a job at the mall, which was boring as hell, but the money was decent. You might think it's dumb, but I did get together with some friends from high school and we played Dungeons & Dragons every week. That was fun." "Hey, that's cool. There's nothing wrong with that. What have I told you about being down on yourself?" he said in a mock-scolding tone. Heaving a sigh, he went on, with unexpected gravity, "It's definitely more fun than I had. My summer was really rough." "What happened?" I asked, suddenly concerned. "That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about when we get together. I really don't want to go into it over the phone." "Oh," was all I could manage to utter. It sounded ominous. "So when are you free?" "How 'bout tomorrow night?" I said quickly, too curious to affect restraint. "Sounds good. You wanna go for dinner somewhere?" "Okay. You like Old Man Rafferty's?" "Yeah, I love that place." "Good. What time?" "How 'bout we meet there at eight?" he proposed. "That works for me," I agreed, sounding too eager to my own ears. "Okay then. I'll see you there tomorrow at eight." "I'll be there." "Great. Have a good night." "Yeah, you too. Bye." "Bye." As I hung up the phone, I found myself tossed between excitement and dread. Jeff had sounded like his old self at the start of our conversation, but when he mentioned this past summer, he sounded almost haunted. What could have happened to him? I spent the rest of the evening imagining a catalogue of calamities. Had he been sick? Was he diagnosed with some terminal disease? Had someone close to him died? My mind whirled around and around, conjuring ever more horrible possibilities. When John came in at about eleven, I was in bed but far from asleep. Thoughtfully, he tiptoed around in silence with the lights off, but he may as well have brought in a brass band and put on a fireworks display. There was no way I could find sleep that night. With a new moon in the sky, little illumination entered the room from outside. I stared sightlessly into the gloom. * * * Distracted by awful visions of Jeff's mysterious misfortune, I was scarcely aware of my surroundings as I went through the next day. Like a robot, I performed my daily rituals without conscious thought. Somehow I made my way to meals and classes, though I ate little and learned less. My mind couldn't focus on anything but Jeff. I grew ever more anxious with each passing hour. By evening, I was certifiable. Karen called me as I was getting ready to depart. She started right in, so I didn't have a chance to cut her short. While she blathered on, I zoned out. It was more of the same about Joe and her parents, so there was no need to pay close attention anyway. I murmured brief responses at the appropriate junctures, but I didn't volunteer anything. Preoccupied with her own concerns, she didn't notice my distance. After she had finished her update, she asked what was new with me. Not yet prepared to discuss the developing situation with Jeff, I gave a short rundown of my otherwise ordinary day. She seemed satisfied with that. We talked only a bit longer. Bidding her goodnight, I promised to call her tomorrow. I glanced at the clock. There was still plenty of time. I puttered around mindlessly for a while, before getting dressed and dashing out the door. Jeff and I met at Old Man Rafferty's a little earlier than planned. Although I had tried to delay as much as possible, I still arrived 20 minutes before the hour; but Jeff wasn't far behind. Looking more like his usual self this time, he was dressed in jeans, sneakers and a flannel shirt, along with a windbreaker against the autumn chill. He greeted me as warmly as ever, with a bright smile and a firm handshake. Grinning foolishly and pumping his hand effusively, I couldn't contain my enthusiasm to see him. I had intended to affect at least a modicum of reserve, but I was too happy being with him again to follow through with it. Since it was mid-week, the restaurant was nearly empty. There were only two other tables taken. A group of guys caroused rowdily in the back corner, as a couple (male and female) made eyes at one another by the window. Jeff and I got a table right away, and placed our orders soon after. I was restless and distracted, too apprehensive to ogle him with my usual thoroughness. Even so, I noticed that he was not his normal laid-back and confident self. Although he tried to hide it under a veneer of placid nonchalance, he seemed at least as agitated as I was, if not more so. It was a struggle resisting the urge to interrogate him, but I had to give him the chance to raise the subject himself. Jeff had to tell me what was bothering him because he chose to, not because I dragged it out of him when he was vulnerable. Besides, I didn't want to appear too brazenly inquisitive. We had both ordered burgers and fries, so our food came quickly, giving us no time to get past preliminary pleasantries. To my frustration, Jeff seemed content to go on making small talk while we ate. He began going into some detail about his classes this semester and his current roommates and the internship that he had interviewed for, but he mentioned not one word about the Summer Tragedy (as I had come to think of it, complete with capital letters). He rambled on for a while, as if he were afraid to stop talking. It looked as though he could go on like that all night, so I tried to steer him toward the subject of his dire pronouncement. Whenever he paused to ask me something, I would render a purposefully monosyllabic response in the hopes that he would take the hint; but he just continued on, conspicuously ignoring my not-so-subtle cues. This went on for some time. I'm sure that he knew what I was angling for, but he stubbornly refused to bring it up. Eventually I admitted defeat. Jeff would tell me when he was ready; I would just have to wait until then. Accepting what he had to say at face value, I began to contribute actively to the conversation. Although I still made no reference to Mitch, I went on at length about the other developments in my life since our last time together. My doing so helped both of us relax. After that, our chat became less strained and more enjoyable. Tabling my curiosity for the moment, I allowed myself to simply enjoy being with Jeff. It felt as if I were getting to know him all over again. Once given the chance, our natural rapport reasserted itself. Whenever I became momentarily tongue-tied, Jeff drew me out in that way of his. A couple of times, to my surprise, I found myself doing the same for him. As we talked, I rediscovered how much we had in common and how well we got along, despite the superficial differences between us. It reminded me of our second night together, when we shared our first real conversation. Remembering how close I felt to him, how intimately we connected, I finally understood why I had fallen for him so completely. Unfortunately, I also remembered the concluding scene of that night. The memory made me cringe as I relived the humiliation of being rebuffed so bluntly. I suddenly lost patience with his evasions. We had to resolve this one way or another, so I could get on with my life. If the Summer Tragedy had something to do with me, then I had to know. If not, then I had to get away from him before my identity slipped away again into a bottomless morass of longing and despair. I couldn't bear a repeat performance of that agonizing internal melodrama, especially not so soon after Mitch. Pushing aside our convivial exchange and dropping all pretense of being coy, I asked Jeff straight out what had happened to him over the summer. His forced garrulousness fell away and he became abruptly solemn. He apologized for not getting to the point, but he said he didn't want to talk about it in the restaurant. He invited me over to his apartment, back on Busch Campus. My better judgment implored me to refuse, but I'd come too far to simply walk away. We had to reach some sort of closure. I accepted his invitation, and we departed the restaurant promptly, leaving money on the table to cover the check. Since we had each come in our own cars, we drove there separately. I wasn't exactly sure where Jeff's place was located, so I followed behind him closely. Even at that hour there was quite a bit of traffic, obliging me to drive carefully in order to keep his white Mustang in sight. It was a short ride, leaving me little time to work up any further anxiety. Jeff's apartment was located on the opposite side of Busch Campus from my dormitory, in one of the apartment buildings that were reserved for upperclassmen. When I got my bearings, I realized that a couple of my friends lived in a neighboring building. Smiling wryly to myself, I thought of how they always teased me because I was so blatantly envious of them. I had hoped to get an apartment in the university's housing lottery, but the luck of the draw hadn't been in my favor. Knowing that I was fortunate to have any kind of on-campus housing, I had tried to convince myself in the meantime that the dorm wasn't so bad: I only had one roommate to contend with, and it was significantly less space to keep clean. We drove around and parked in the lot behind the building. Jeff met me at my car. Both of us were subdued as we made our way over to the outside staircase that ascended to the upper levels. Bounding up the stairs to the third floor, he led the way to his front entry. Unlocking the door, he held it open for me as I passed inside. The first thing I noticed was how barren the place seemed. Jeff and his roommates had done little to personalize the communal living and dining area. There were a couple of movie and sports posters tacked to the walls, and a few books and magazines scattered around on the tables about the room, but there was nothing else to reflect the personalities of the inhabitants. In fairness, I supposed that there really wasn't much you could do make it feel more cozy, given how Spartan the dwelling was to begin with. Overall, the large room felt like the lobby of a hospital, complete with excessive illumination glaring against the nearly bare, stark white walls. This impression was enhanced by the preternatural quiet that laid over the place since there appeared to be no one else around. Jeff explained that both of his roommates were out at evening classes. That was part of the reason he'd chosen this night to invite me over. Nonetheless, he still seemed reluctant to broach the subject of the Summer Tragedy. Politely, but obviously temporizing, he offered me something to drink and, when I declined, excused himself to the bathroom. I sat down in one of the living room chairs and fidgeted nervously until he returned. When he came out a few minutes later, he directed me back to his bedroom. After we were inside, he closed the door behind him, saying, "Just in case one of my roommates comes back early." Glancing around the small chamber, I was immediately struck by how much more individualized it was than the common room. Posters and pictures covered nearly all the surface area of the walls. The majority of them depicted sports figures, predominantly baseball with a smattering of others, but there were also a few featuring movies of the sci-fi/action genre, like Alien and Predator. Standing in the corner next to the utilitarian desk, a tall bookcase, presumably brought in from home, held a small TV, a few athletic trophies and similar knickknacks, as well as several shelves of engineering textbooks and reference works. A portable stereo occupied most of the top of the large bureau, accompanied by haphazard stacks of tapes and CD's, mostly classic and alternative rock. The lone twin-bed was neatly made, covered with a colorfully abstract, but tastefully masculine comforter in various earth-tones that matched the drapes on the window. A new-looking teddy bear, probably a gift from Susan, rested against the lamp on the nightstand. Jeff offered me the chair by the desk, the only one in the room, and sat himself down on the bed. Appearing uncomfortable, he began, "I'm sorry I've been beating around the bush, but this is hard for me." Seeing his discomfiture, I was moved to sympathy. "It's okay. Take your time. I just want to help if I can." He smiled wanly. "Thanks." He was silent for several long minutes, but I didn't press him. I was afraid that if I pushed he would never talk. Finally, he said, "I broke up with Susan over the summer." That's what all the melodrama was about? Somehow I felt cheated. Awful as it might sound, I was almost disappointed that no one had died. I had been all set to play grief counselor. Then it occurred to me that he hadn't once mentioned his girlfriend's name during the course of the evening thus far. I couldn't say that I was sad to learn that they had broken up. It was actually good news to me. To my unique perspective on the world, which was admittedly somewhat warped, Susan had been my chief rival for Jeff's affections. If he was single, that made it easier for me to imagine getting together with him, regardless of his sexuality. I was unrepentantly jubilant that she was no longer in the picture. Nevertheless, I had to wonder why Jeff was telling me of all people. We were hardly best friends, despite my desire for a more intimate relationship. As far as he was concerned, I was merely an acquaintance, and one he hadn't seen for six months at that. Why would he pour out his heart to me? His motivation eluded me, but I was moved by his visible pain. I said simply, "Oh, I'm sorry." "Yeah, it was rough." He spoke distractedly, as if more to himself than to me. "We've been going out since high school, almost five years. We thought we were going to get married." He hung his head, clearly on the verge of tears. Now, I sensed that he wanted encouragement. Softly I asked, "So what happened? Did she leave you for another guy?" He barked a laugh, but there was little mirth in it. "Not exactly. I broke up with her, and she took it really hard. She cried and cried, but I had to do it. I hated myself, but it's for the best. That was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life." I felt terrible for Jeff. Obviously, he was miserable. Even if I couldn't have him, I still didn't want him to be unhappy. Eager to offer what support I could, I dusted off my trusty psychoanalyst's couch. It reminded me of the counseling sessions that I had given my straight male friends back in high school, whenever they were having trouble with their girlfriends. At the time I had hated those little bouts of pseudo-therapy. What business did I, a lonely gay boy, have giving them advice on heterosexual relationships? The whole scenario had seemed absurd to me, but I managed to pull it off with a sympathetic ear and a mouthful of platitudes. My friends usually went away in a better frame of mind; I supposed that was what mattered. The most difficult part for me was being made to feel like an outsider. I had always felt isolated to some degree, but playing counselor like that made it infinitely worse, especially since my "clients" didn't know that I was so very different from them. It was as if I were masquerading in a foreign land, pretending to understand the customs well enough to guide others, but in reality I was just stumbling around ignorantly. For the first time, I was grateful to have gone through all that. Despite how unsettling it had been, the experience was invaluable preparation for dealing with the present circumstances. It gave me a confidence that I might not otherwise have possessed. I prompted Jeff gently, "But why? Didn't you love her?" "I thought so," he murmured, staring off into space. "Then what went wrong?" "I was wrong," he said with sudden heat, emphasizing the first-person pronoun. "But how?" I asked soothingly. His tone became detached again. "I didn't really love her. Susan was my friend. I liked her, and we had a good time together, but it was never more than that. It wasn't more than that for me, anyway." Jeff paused, taking a deep breath, but I remained silent, sensing that he would continue in his own good time. "But that was okay. She didn't know how I really felt. She loved me and I liked being with her. We could have gone on like that. I could have married her and been happy, I guess." "But you didn't really love her," I said, deliberately repeating his words back to him. "No, I didn't," he said, sighing. "Eventually I realized that...when I fell in love with someone else." "Who?" I blurted out, suspecting that I knew the answer but not daring to hope. Jeff became quiet, to all appearances contemplating his shoes, but I imagined that inside he was furiously debating how to reply. Eventually, after a long while, he spoke. Looking up and gazing directly at me, he said simply, "You." My eyes grew wide. "Oh, my God," I whispered, utterly shocked. Where was the therapist for me, now that I needed one? "Yeah, that's about how I felt," he chuckled dryly, but with genuine humor this time. "When we fooled around those couple of times, I didn't think it meant anything. I mean, it was hot, better than any sex I'd ever had with a girl, but I didn't think there was any more to it than that." He paused for breath, then resumed. "At least, I didn't at first. But then, after we hung out that night and talked, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I couldn't wait to see you again and that scared me. After the last time we were together, I had to stay away, even though I didn't want to. I wasn't sure what I was feeling anymore. It seemed like...I don't know..." He trailed off, seemingly embarrassed. Stunned, my mouth hanging open, I sat there mutely. Realizing that I was incapable of speech, Jeff went on, laughing again, "I really got you, didn't I? Well, don't feel bad. It surprised the hell out of me." When I still didn't say anything, he got up and came over by where I sat, squatting down in front of me. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked with a concerned expression. Shaking my head, not in negation but to collect myself, I muttered, "Yeah, I think so." "I'm sorry. I was afraid I'd freak you out. That's why I hemmed and hawed so long." "It's all right. I'm just really surprised. Floored, actually." I exhaled loudly. "I can't believe it." Jeff snorted as he stood up. "You can't believe it?" He perched himself on the nearest corner of the bed before continuing. "I still haven't got it all figured out. I like sports and cars. I don't know the first thing about decorating or being a hairdresser. I hate ballet and opera, and I don't know a single show tune. I like Van Halen and Aerosmith, but I can't stand Barbra Streisand. How can I be a homo?" I laughed at his earnest bewilderment, "So? I'm gay, and while I don't much care for sports, I do like cars. I couldn't decorate if you gave a me a decorate-by-the-numbers book, and forget about being a hairdresser. I can't even comb my own hair so it looks decent in the morning. I've been to exactly one Broadway show in my life, which bored me to tears, and don't even get me started on ballet and opera. I like Babs and I like Van Halen, but I despise Aerosmith." I continued fervently, my tone growing perhaps a trifle sermonic, "There's no law that says you have to like or not like something in order to be gay. Those are just stupid stereotypes. The only requirement, if you're a guy, is that you like other guys. Other than that, you just have to go with your feelings and be yourself." Reduced to cliches, I lost momentum, but I figured I had made my point. Shrugging expansively, he said, "Then I guess I qualify, since I do like guys, but it's news to me. I've had a tough time with it. Breaking up with Susan was hard, but accepting this about myself was a lot harder." "I've always known I was gay," I mused. "Even when I was little, I just had the feeling I was different. I didn't know how or why, or what it meant, but I knew I was different. When I got older, I figured it out. It was hard at first, but I'm okay with it now." Jeff smiled then said, "That's one of the things I like about you." "What?" "You're so comfortable with who you are." That did it. I started laughing so hard that I nearly fell off the chair. "What's so funny?" he asked, genuinely perplexed by my reaction. Gasping for breath, I said, "Oh, please. I am so incredibly insecure, it's not funny. I've always admired you for being so together." "Ha! Now that's funny." "No, really, you always seem so sure of yourself." "You think so, huh?" "Yeah, I do." "I must be a pretty good actor 'cause I sure don't feel that way." "Well, I don't know how good of an actor you are, but you sure are pretty." "Hey!" "Pretty cute, that is." I grinned at him mischievously. "Thanks," said Jeff, suddenly bashful. After a beat, he added, "You're not so bad yourself." "Gee, thanks!" I muttered sarcastically. "No, I mean it. You're really cute too." He paused for a second, shaking his head. "God, it sounds weird to say that to another guy. But it's true." "Well, I've always thought you were cute, from the minute I first saw you." "I guess I felt the same way about you. I just didn't realize it 'til later." "I'm glad you finally figured it out." "Me too." Without saying another word, Jeff gestured for me to come sit beside him. Not one to refuse such a gracious invitation, I got up swiftly and plunked myself down next to him on the bed. He leaned towards me hesitantly, and I put my arms around him, pulling him into a firm embrace. My lips found his and pressed against them gently. His goatee tickled, but it was a welcome sensation. I'd never kissed a man with a beard. Jeff reacted shyly, allowing me to take the lead. He scarcely brushed my mouth with his. Gradually, his desire overcame his uncertainty. He put his arms around me and squeezed our bodies more closely together. Feeling his heightened response, I began to taste him greedily. I nudged my tongue into his mouth, and he accepted it willingly. After a moment, he returned the favor, if somewhat tentatively at first. As our mutual passion began to escalate, he lost his reticence. We exchanged copious amounts of saliva as our tongues danced in and out of each other's mouths. Our arms and hands clutching and caressing one another, we fell back onto his bed in a tangle. It was paradise allowing myself to become consumed by my desire for him. After a few minutes of intense making out, we both backed off for a moment to catch our breath. I looked towards Jeff, seeking his gaze, but he stared away at the wall thoughtfully, his face propped up on his elbow. Distantly, he said, "Can I ask you something?" Still faintly breathless, I murmured, "Sure, anything." "I told you how I feel about you," he began soberly. "It's been all I could think about for months. But I wonder how you feel about me. I knew right from the start that I turned you on. That was pretty obvious when we started fooling around, but I'm not sure if it's any more than that for you." Jeff looked at me then. "I guess what I want to know is: Do you feel the same way about me?" Those unfathomable cerulean eyes bored into my soul, daring me to speak the truth. "I wasn't sure myself at first," I said softly, "but I know now. I've known for a long time, really." Glancing down, I twiddled my fingers absently. My mind spun out of control. I was scared to go on. Once the words were spoken, I couldn't take them back, no matter what came to pass. After an extended pause, I returned his gaze resolutely and declared, "I love you, too." It was a relief to say it. The path to this moment had been tortuous, but it had finally come. It filled me with elation that I was at last free to reveal my heart, but I was also terrified that I might be baring my innermost being for him to devour. I trembled with dread. But there was no need to be afraid. Jeff's brilliant smile swept away the last of my fear, like a newborn star sweeps away the remaining dust and debris that obscure it from the universe. He reached out and pulled me towards him again, crushing me fiercely in his embrace. I clutched him tightly in return, and we laid like that, entwined together, for a long while. * * * Each of us savored the profound feelings that we had just revealed. I don't think that either of us had believed before that what we had come to share was even possible. Giving voice to my love for Jeff made it seem more real to me, as tangible as his flesh which I now held. For me, it was truly a dream come true. As we lay bound to together, we began to undress one another. Slowly and reverently, both of us realizing the significance of this moment, we unbuttoned each other's shirts. It was awkward in that position but we persevered since neither of us wanted to move away from the other. In between each button, by unspoken agreement, we paused to kiss, sometimes a quick, darting peck and other times a prolonged, languorous lip-lock. We giggled foolishly at the contortions we were forced to endure in order to achieve our objective, but soon enough it was done. Jeff was not wearing a T-shirt so his chest was now bared to me. Reaching between the parted sides of his shirt, I gingerly stroked the soft, pale skin with its downy covering of dark fur. Seen up close, he appeared even more hirsute, which was a pleasant discovery. I ran my fingers through the hair, savoring its luxuriance. Finding a nipple, I brushed it lightly with my fingertips, more to tease him than for any immediate erotic purpose. Jeff moaned softly at the sensation. He had been wrestling with the T-shirt that I wore beneath my shirt, but had finally succeeded in pulling it free of my jeans. Bending his arm up underneath the recalcitrant garment, he caressed me with surprising gentleness. His fingers were slightly rough, but they moved across my skin smoothly. Punctuated by bouts of passionate kissing, we continued like that for some time, reveling in the simple act of touching one another. I'd never felt free to explore a man's body so thoroughly before, and it was certainly the first time for Jeff as well. Like myself, he didn't appear to be in any hurry to go further yet. I was happy to learn that he was capable of such patient tenderness. In the past, he had seemed so arrogant and impetuous that I assumed he would be a perpetually hasty and brutish lover, unable to appreciate the simple pleasures we now shared. There was no doubt that I had enjoyed the purely physical thrill of our previous encounters. The risk of being caught had given those times in the dorm shower an exhilarating edge, and the unadorned sexual release had been incredibly intense. Nonetheless, it was a joy to experience true lovemaking, and I was doubly pleased that Jeff prized it as much as I did. After a while, we felt the urge to move on. I was the first to stir, pushing Jeff's shirt off of his shoulders and down his back. He wriggled his body to facilitate removing it entirely. When it was completely loose, I stretched out and dropped the rumpled article off the side of the bed and onto the floor behind him. Then, he repeated the same procedure for me, with the added step of pulling my T-shirt up and over my head, before tossing it aside as well. Our torsos were now fully exposed to one another. We pressed together again, our smoldering desire igniting into an open blaze. The thick hair on Jeff's chest mingled into the lighter down on my own, a sensation that was almost but not quite ticklish. The feeling of skin on skin was almost unbearably exquisite, the tactile equivalent of two mirrors reflecting each other to infinity. Our tenderness began to wane as our passion mounted. Jeff crushed me to him with his strong arms, and I responded similarly. We each stroked and kneaded the other's flesh as we clung together, our lips bound and unbound, fiery and wet. Forcing me over onto my back, Jeff kissed my cheek and jaw and down my neck, his hot breath steaming against my skin. Working his way downward, he left a moist trail to the hollow at the base of my throat. He drew his tongue across my flesh, through the hair on my chest and to my right nipple. As he licked the sensitive nub, I gasped uncontrollably. Seeing the effect this stimulation had on me, he continued in earnest, tonguing it eagerly. Then he began stroking my other tit with his fingertips. Crawling up and straddling my legs, Jeff alternated his oral and manual attentions between each nipple, first suckling at one and caressing the other, then the reverse. I moaned and writhed in pleasure, inspiring him even further. In his enthusiasm, he bit down sharply on one of them, and I yelped in pain. Mumbling an apology, he carried on with a gentler but no less ardent lingual stimulation. The sensation was glorious, but after a while my nipples became faintly irritated from the continuous manipulation. With a light touch, I urged Jeff up off of me. Pushing him onto his back, I climbed over atop him so that I might return the favor of what he had just done to me. Realizing my intent, he grew passive. His body went limp, allowing me to take charge for the time being. First, I tasted his mouth again, exploring it with my tongue, renewing my acquaintance with that unique flavor that I had come to know as Jeff. I devoured him hungrily, pushing my tongue into his mouth then sucking his into mine. Back and forth, our tongues moved, trading places repeatedly. Then, pulling away from his mouth, I began kissing across his face. Straying from the path he had followed, I blazed a trail to his left ear. I nuzzled the bottom lobe briefly before sucking it into my mouth. Ever so softly, I nibbled at it, barely grazing it with the surface of my teeth. Jeff moaned thickly. Obviously, I'd hit a sensitive spot. Encouraged by his reaction, I continued my ministrations. For variety, I moved to his other ear, then began switching between the two, with a pause in transition to buss his lips. When my lips touched his, Jeff responded absently, lost in the pleasure that I gave him. Anxious to explore new realms, I abandoned his ears after a time and began trekking downward. As he had done to me, I left a string of kisses across his cheek. I lingered around his chin to lave my tongue through the copse of his goatee. He giggled, so I must have tickled him in doing so. Then I continued downward, planting my lips moistly on his neck at random intervals. When I reached his chest, I couldn't resist pressing my face into that glorious carpet of fur. His clean, manly odor overwhelmed me. Breathing deeply, I drank in the scent of him, trying to memorize it. Wrapping my arms around and underneath his torso, I squeezed him tightly. Jeff draped his arms over me and held me to him. If it were possible, I think I would have burrowed into him. With my face in that position, his right tit lay close to mouth. Almost of its own volition, my tongue snaked out and flicked it several times. With a sharp intake of breath, Jeff registered his approval. It was clear that he enjoyed having his nipples stimulated as much as I did. I was more than happy to render the same pleasure to him that he had given to me. Releasing my embrace, I pushed myself up until my face hung over his chest. My mouth found the nipple again and began to work it gently, nibbling and licking the erectile nub. Holding myself up with one hand, I reached my free hand over to his other tit and began to fondle it lightly. Jeff gasped in joy, which inspired me to pursue my present avocation with even greater dedication. I moved my mouth his other nipple and switched the hand that I supported myself with so that I could caress the first. It was now slick with my saliva, so my fingertips glided over it smoothly. I continued like that for some time, occasionally swapping sides to share my attentions equally. Beneath me, I could feel the insistent pressure of Jeff's hard cock straining upward through his jeans. Moving my face back up level with his, I began to undulate my hips against him, which drove our crotches together. Jeff answered by pushing back in harmony with my rhythm. We kissed passionately as the mounds of our erections dueled with one another. I couldn't stand the excitement any longer. Sliding myself down, I parted Jeff's legs so I could kneel between them. He watched me encouragingly as I groped the bulge in his jeans. Squeezing the outline of his dick, I rubbed it through the stiff denim. Undoing the catch of his pants, I pulled down the zipper and folded back the flaps. His cock jutted up inside the dull plaid of his boxer shorts. I caught a glimpse of it through the partly open fly. Reaching into the vent, I grasped the fleshy cylinder and masturbated it briefly. "Mmm," he murmured contentedly, as I slid my hand up and down his shaft. After a few seconds of that, I withdrew my hand and began to pull down his jeans. Obligingly, Jeff elevated his hips to expedite their removal. It still took quite an effort to tug them all the way off, but I was up to the challenge. We wrestled for a few moments, until they finally surrendered and at last I yanked them off his feet. The boxer shorts, which had already come down partway with the jeans, were far more co-operative. I tore them off in one swift motion. Now, Jeff was completely naked before me. Standing at the foot of the bed, I had to pause a moment just to look at him. He was as perfect as I remembered, from the tousled dark hair on his head down to his well-formed feet. I felt a renewed surge of lust to match the intense love that coursed through me. Realizing what I was doing, Jeff smiled at me. "Like what you see, huh?" he said impishly, propping himself up on his elbows. I grinned back, somewhat abashed. "Oh, yeah." I crawled back between his legs and bent over his crotch. His dick remained rigidly at attention. Hunching over it, I slid my tongue across the underside of his cock-head. Jeff sighed noisily and laid his head back down on the pillow. Opening my mouth, I engulfed the jutting pole. I'd held it enough to recognize the familiar texture and shape as it filled my oral cavity. The pungent flavor assaulted my taste buds as the concentrated musk of his crotch infiltrated my nostrils. My lips clamped around the sculpted column near its mid-point, and my tongue began to worship the offering that had been delivered into its shrine. I began to raise and lower my head slowly, drawing Jeff's cock into my mouth then releasing it, over and over again. Clamped around the base, my left hand provided an extension of the warm tightness of my throat. It also served as a bumper, to prevent me from gagging by trying to swallow too much of the 8-inch shaft. As the throbbing organ rode in and out of my mouth, I kept the rough surface of my tongue pressed against it to create friction against the sensitive underside. Jeff moaned inarticulately, placing his hands on the back of my head and clutching his fingers through my hair. I could have gone on like that forever, but he signaled me to stop. I peered up at him expectantly. "Wait a second," he said, exhaling sharply. "I'm really close to cumming, but I don't want to yet." He paused, gazing into my eyes with fierce intensity. "I want you to fuck me." Flabbergasted, I stammered, "Are you sure?" "What's the matter?" he asked, chuckling throatily. "Don't you want to?" "Are you kidding? Of course I do. But only if you're sure that you want to." "Yes, I'm sure. Just take it easy." "I will. I promise." Jeff nodded, accepting my word. Reaching into the drawer of his bedside table, he pulled out a bottle of lubricant, probably the same one I had dipped into so many months ago. Clambering up from the bed, he dispensed some of it and began to apply it to his bottom. He must have been paying attention to what I had done before he fucked me, because he used his fingers to insert the slick substance into his asshole and loosen the strong muscles of his sphincter. I watched him hypnotically as he worked the lubricant between his perfectly- formed butt cheeks. "Well?" he said, eyeing me where I still sat immobile. Taking my cue, I hopped off the foot of the bed and stripped off my jeans. I had to peel my underpants away from my crotch. So much pre-cum had oozed out during our foreplay that they were practically glued to my body. As they tore away, my dick bobbed up resiliently. Jeff's proposition had given it powerful incentive. He handed me the bottle and leaned over the edge of the bed. I pumped out a healthy portion and set the bottle back on his nightstand. Grasping my cock with the hand full of greasy goo, I stroked myself just enough to spread the substance evenly all over the pulsating shaft. The sharp chill of the lubricant against the inflamed heat of my turgid organ sent a shiver through my body. Shaking with anticipation, I stepped up behind him. My heart hammered with excitement. For a few moments, I remained rooted to the spot. It didn't seem possible that we had come to this point. I was about to possess him as fully as he had possessed me. In a seemingly irreconcilable duality, it was both intensely romantic and overwhelmingly erotic. When I hesitated, Jeff craned his neck around to look up at me. His expression was eager but anxious. I smiled reassuringly, though my own stomach was knotted in tense anticipation. I began to knead his ass cheeks. Placing my dick in the crevice between them, I slid it up and down a few times. Some of the lubricant transferred itself to the furry recesses of his butt, matting down the hairs. With one hand I directed my cock-head until it pressed against his puckered hole. Holding it in place, I thrust forward with my hips, gently at first, then with increasing force. Jeff gasped as he felt the pressure mounting. His virginal orifice resisted my thick shaft doggedly. Tensely, he pushed back against me. "Uh!" he cried out, as my cock-head finally broke through. "Are you alright?" I asked anxiously. "No!" he snapped. "Take it easy!" "I'm sorry!" I wailed contritely, holding myself utterly still. After a few agonized moments, he seemed to relax. "It's okay. I can take it now." "You sure?" "Yeah," he growled. "I want you inside me." Gripping his hips with both hands, I began to ease myself further into him. I drove forward with painstaking patience. There was no way I wanted to hurt Jeff like that a second time. Millimeter by millimeter, my fat seven inches disappeared into his clenching sphincter, drilling inexorably into the depths of his bowels. He grunted at the steady penetration but did not protest again. The sensation of having my cock squeezed so tightly by his warm, slippery hole was almost enough to make me lose my load. If I hadn't been moving slowly, I would have careened wildly over the edge. As it was, I teetered perilously near the precipice. At last, I was completely inside him. My pubic bush rested snugly against his butt. Keeping myself immobile, I remained in that position for a time, to give Jeff the chance to get used to the feeling of fullness. It also allowed me to step back from the brink. After a few moments, Jeff was the first to stir. Rocking forward, he released several inches of my shaft from his asshole; then he pushed back to engulf them again. His motion was slow and deliberate as he acquainted himself with the new sensations surging through his body. He continued to rock back and forth with gradually increasing speed and magnitude. In time, as he grew more relaxed and confident, he ranged from absorbing the full length of my thick rod to having the head scarcely tucked inside him. He crooned in delight as he discovered the unique satisfaction of getting fucked Jeff's methodical maneuvers stimulated my plunging organ exquisitely. My voice joined with his in a nonverbal chorus of physical rapture. Seeing that he was now enjoying the experience, I began to thrust my hips in synchrony with his movements. Every time the ridge of my cock-head grazed the slick confines of his anal orifice, I felt myself nudged incrementally closer to the point of no return. Wanting to enhance his pleasure, I reached around and grabbed Jeff's neglected member. His erection had faded from the pain of my initial infiltration, but his cock grew quickly hard again with a little attention. Since my hand was still greasy with the lubricant, it coasted smoothly over his sensitive flesh. He moaned louder at the double excitement of being fucked and jerked off simultaneously. That only spurred me on further. I began to buck uncontrollably, ramming in and out of his clutching hole with complete abandon. My breathing became labored as I sucked in oxygen to fuel the enormous effort. Grunting with exertion, Jeff now held fast while I plowed his butt unmercifully. I couldn't stop now, even if I wanted to, but he clearly didn't want me to. Somehow, I retained enough awareness to continue masturbating his cock. My fist flew back and forth along his shaft, keeping time with my driving hips. The stiff organ throbbed gratefully. At that frenzied pace, neither of us could endure for very long. As my own climax came crashing down upon me, I felt Jeff begin to shudder with the impending culmination of ecstasy. My hand filled with his hot seed, as his sphincter convulsed rhythmically around my shaft. A fraction of a second later, I shot my own load deep inside of him, crying out triumphantly as spasms of pleasure wrenched my body. Time seemed to suspend itself as we poised together on that lofty pinnacle. Then, the merest instant later, we tumbled from the height, and it was all over. Panting for breath, we held our places for a few minutes. The sweat cooled on my body, leaving me chilled. I withdrew from him as my cock began to grow flaccid. Straightening up, he turned around to face me. "That was incredible!" he said, with a lopsided grin. "Yeah, it sure was," I replied, smiling back at him like a half-wit. He ruffled my hair playfully then kissed me. We embraced, our nude forms pressed against one another. Pausing for a brief respite, we returned to his bed. Tenderly, we explored one another's bodies again, persisting until we had each memorized the entirety of the other, like 16th century European mariners charting the extent and expanse of the New World. In time, our mutual lust reasserted itself. Jeff sucked me off to a second powerful climax, before fucking me to his own furious orgasm. After that we collapsed on his bed, thoroughly drained and exhausted. Loosely entangled, we rested there, sometimes talking quietly, but mostly sharing a companionable silence. * * * The hour had grown late. I couldn't see the clock, but I guessed that it was well past midnight. I got up and sat on the edge of the bed, wondering if I should go. In spite of everything that had just happened, a small but vocal part of me feared that Jeff's feelings might change. He could still decide that it had all been a mistake and throw me out in disgust. It was disturbing to acknowledge, but a trace of doubt remained to plague me. On a more pragmatic level, the thought also occurred to me that he might prefer to sleep alone. Although I found it profoundly reassuring and incredibly romantic to spend the night with someone, he simply might not share that predilection. I lingered at the bedside hesitantly. Jeff had been lying there drowsily, but now he sat up and looked at me with a curious expression. "You're not going to leave, are you?" he asked with a scarcely discernible, plaintive tone in his voice. "Not unless you want me to," I said, praying that he wouldn't. His only answer was to reach out and pull me tightly to him. That was enough to chase away the last of my uncertainty. I wasn't going anywhere, not for a long time. Still naked, we crawled underneath the covers and snuggled together, spoon-fashion. The single bed didn't offer much room to spread out, but I for one was happy to be so close to Jeff. He didn't seem to mind either as he pressed up tight against me. It wasn't long before we both drifted peacefully off to sleep. I awoke once during the night, momentarily disoriented at being in a strange place. Then I felt Jeff beside me, the warmth of his body touching mine. The faint rhythm of his breathing reached my ears through the utter stillness of the room. Raising my head up a bit, I could see his beautiful face in slumbering repose. Moonlight streaming in from the window bathed him in angelic radiance. With a contented smile, I put my head back down. Soon I fell asleep again, thinking that Karen would get an earful tomorrow. * * * Epilogue It has been almost two decades since the events recounted above. Jeff and I stayed together for about a year after we became involved. It was passionate and intensely sexual, as youthful relationships tend to be, but we were both far too young then to make a lifetime commitment. Inevitably we split up. Each of us had to go out into the world on his own. At least we parted amicably. I dated many guys over the next few years. I fooled around with most of them and went steady with several. I even made a stab at a long term relationship with one of them. Dan and I lasted almost three years, but he had personal issues to resolve before he could deal with a mate. Unfortunately, it was a messy break-up. I was single for quite a while after that. Back when we graduated, I had lost track of Jeff. His career took him to the West Coast, far away from New Jersey, where I stayed to become an English professor at another university. I thought of him from time to time but never sought him out. He has since told me that he dated around as much as I did during the intervening years. For the most part, he went out with guys. He did see one woman for a couple of months, but that brief relationship only confirmed to him that he was gay. Luckily for me, he never settled down with anyone. We ran into one another at Rutgers, during the festivities surrounding our respective 10- year class reunions. I'm still not sure what prompted me to go. Through the years, I had kept in touch with Karen and Brian and Alan and Chris as well as some other good friends from those college days. Since none of them were attending the reunion, my purpose for being there really wasn't to catch up with long-lost classmates. Perhaps on some level I was hoping to meet up with Jeff, but I honestly can't say for sure. In any event, fate must have been in a good mood that day because it brought the two of us back together again. Murphy had finally grown bored of tormenting me. As I wandered aimlessly around the campus, trying to justify my presence there, I glimpsed Jeff out of the corner of my eye. He was standing outside the Student Center, chatting with a cluster of fellow alumni. Although he had changed somewhat, I recognized him immediately. His dark hair was shorter, almost a buzz-cut, (which I liked) and his goatee was gone (which I didn't), probably in deference to corporate style. He was dressed casually, in jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt (Scarlet Knights, of course). He had put on a little weight and his face was no longer quite as boyish, but he had matured into a handsome man. The old desire awakened swiftly from its long slumber. He must have sensed my eyes on him, because he looked over at me an instant after I'd spotted him. His expression went from puzzlement to recognition in a flash. The smile that lit up his face could have illuminated the dark side of the moon. Excusing himself from his companions, he rushed over and pulled me into a bear-hug that knocked the air out of me. Then he kissed me full on the lips, right there in the commons. We've been together ever since. And every once in a while, we'll pretend that we're dorm-mates in college again, meeting in the showers on a quiet Saturday night...