Date: Thu, 6 Nov 2003 10:30:30 -0800 (PST)
From: Tim Mead <timmead88@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dr. Tim and the Boys, ch. 34

The following fictional narrative involves sexually-explicit erotic events
between men.  If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.

In the world of this story, the characters don't always use condoms.  In
the real world, you should care enough about yourself and others to always
practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproductions or links to other sites
are allowed without the author's consent.

I'd like to say a special thank-you to Johnny for his friendship and
especially for his understanding about one of the scenes in this chapter.
Thanks also to the Lion for special help here and, as always, to Tom,
Mickey, Ash, and Patrick.

Timmead88@yahoo.com
Chapter 34: Get-togethers

After the fracas, Chaz had to endure some teasing from his friends about
his shiner. He let it be known that he had indeed been in a fight, but he
understandably refused to tell his teammate friends the circumstances.

It was a little more difficult for Kent.  Maurice, aghast, refused to let
Kent work until all the facial bruising was gone, nearly a week.  Kent's
debate coach was equally upset.  Kent was not allowed to participate in the
contest with the debaters from Case Western, his position on the team being
taken temporarily by a promising sophomore.  Kent pointed out that neither
his brain nor his voice was in any way limited by the condition of his
nose.  The coach, citing the importance of appearance, overruled him.  A
week or so later, however, things were back to normal for Kent.  Oh, yes,
he'd had to take some pretty withering comments from Philip, but the two
continued to get together several times a week for a fuck session.

Time passed.

Trey and Chaz settled back into their comfortable, loving, but sometimes
prickly relationship.

Geoff continued to wonder whether he should just quit hoping for Philip to
make the first move and say something about how he felt.

Steve reveled in his relationship with Rebecca.  They still hadn't had sex,
but he continued to hope that situation would change soon.

Jared was seeing Max once a week.  He felt immediately comfortable with the
young priest, and he would have gone to see Max more often if he had had
time.  His chores as an orderly at the hospital, where he was working ten
hours a week as his court-imposed community service, and his school work,
however, made only one visit per week possible.  Jared had still not come
out at school.  That, plus Jared's loneliness, his self-consciousness at
school, his feeling that everyone there thought of him as a hoodlum: all
these were things that he and Max talked about.

Max and David were together as often as discretion and their jobs
permitted.  David, as he said, "didn't give a flying fuck" who knew he was
gay, but he was careful for Max's sake.  The rector and vestry at
St. Peter's knew Max was gay when they hired him, but he felt nevertheless
that he shouldn't flaunt his being gay in the community, especially with
someone as flamboyant as David.  So, since Max was more or less permanently
on call, David spent most of his evenings and quite a few of his nights at
Max's place.

Gwen Fairchild was made the English Department's Vice Chair for
Undergraduate Studies, so she became for all practical purposes Tim's boss.
He had the pleasure of telling her one day in early November not only about
his article being published in "Studies in the Literary Imagination," but
that his book had been accepted for publication by Stanford University
Press.  That was quite a coup for the young scholar because, first of all,
S.U.Press is a very prestigious academic publisher, and second, they don't
often publish works of their own faculty or alumni.  It was a real boost
for Tim's reputation both locally and nationally that they had made an
exception in the case of his book.

* * *

CEDRIC:

Tim's cousin Suze and her partner Frankie flew out from New Jersey for the
Veteran's Day weekend, though they returned on Sunday.  They had things
they wanted to do at home on Monday, they said.  Tim and I met them at
Hopkins International Airport late on Friday afternoon.

I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't the two we met at the baggage
carousel. Tim had shown me a pic of Susan, but I couldn't tell from that
how tall she was.  About 5'9", she had the same auburn hair that Tim has.
She was wearing it about collar length, and she obviously went to a very
good hairdresser.  She was on the thin side but had a nice figure.  Like
Tim's her face was longish, and she shared the fine features that must be
in the Mead genes.  Tim had told me that his uncle, Suze's father, was
taller than his own father, so I guess that explains the height
discrepancy.  Anyway, Susan may have been a tomboy when they were kids
growing up, but she was one great-looking woman.

Tim and I had conjectured what Frankie would look like.  He told me she had
a deep voice, and with a name like Frankie, we were expecting a really
butch-looking gal.  So much for stereotypes.  She was about 5'1" and
couldn't have weighed more than 100 pounds soaking wet.  She had short,
very curly black hair and blue eyes.  She looked like a little doll,
literally!  I think she was used to people being surprised by her
appearance, for she registered the looks on our faces and grinned at us.

We exchanged hugs, walked through the airport to the short-term parking,
and drove back to our place.  It seemed funny having Frankie and Suze in
the back seat with Tim sitting beside me up front.  Social conditioning, I
suppose.  Anyway, we chatted about their flight and this and that.  Tim was
turned in his seat as far as his belt would allow, asking them all sorts of
questions about their flight, their lives back in New Jersey, and things
like that.

When we got home we showed them where to put their stuff in our guest room.
I was going to carry their bags upstairs (Angel brought me up that way),
but they wouldn't hear of it and insisted on carrying their own.  We all
changed clothes and then went to Stefan's for dinner.  We didn't get the
table in the alcove and Kent wasn't our server, but the food was, as
always, marvelous, and the four of us had a great time.  Tim and Suze had a
lot of catching up to do, and, of course, we all were eager to get to know
one another.

Frankie told me her name was Francine.  Her father, whose name was Frank,
had wanted a boy. But she was an only child, so she got hauled to Canada
with her dad on fishing trips every summer, and he insisted she go with him
to every sporting event available in the Roanoke area where they lived.
So, she said, she was being called Frankie by her dad long before she
figured out she was a lesbian.

Saturday morning we all slept in.  Then we had a long, leisurely breakfast.
The women were easy to be with, and, of course, we wound up talking about
our experiences as same-sex couples.  They couldn't believe that Tim and I
weren't generally out.  Then we told them about the "brotherhood," and they
were fascinated to learn all about the guys plus Lori and Rebecca.

Where they are in Morristown, things are apparently a good deal more
liberal than here in Ohio.  They said they had a nice circle of friends,
some straight, some not, and that their sexuality didn't seem to matter.
They told us that Suze's patients and Frankie's clients were generally cool
with all that, too.

It was chilly but sunny that afternoon for the football game.  Chaz and
Trey weren't there, but we sat with Lori and Mark, Steve and Rebecca.  Our
opponent was the University of Toledo, and we managed to win the game.

That evening we changed again, and a caravan set out for Nighttown.  The
two couples we had been with at the game were in Mark's car.  Max and David
came with Trey and Chaz who wouldn't tell us why they had missed the game,
but by the sheepish grins they both had, I suspected some sort of
hanky-panky at home.  I had made arrangements with Nighttown, so they had
two tables of six waiting for us.  Philip Halifax was there, sitting alone.
We invited him to join us, but he said he didn't want to interfere with the
pairings at the two tables.  He did pull a chair over and visit for a while
with each group while the musicians were on their breaks.  I saw him
leaving with Geoff afterward.

Again, the food was fabulous, and the conversation flowed freely.  Until
the music started, anyway.  Suze and Frankie seemed to enjoy Geoff's trio.
At one point I saw Frankie reach over and hold Suze's hand under the table
while the drummer of the group sang an old standard called "Love Walked
In."  I notice that Geoff was looking at Philip the whole time he played
that.  Trey told me later he'd learned from Geoff that that was his and
Philip's special song.

It was late when we got back to our place, but Tim fixed everyone a night
cap and we talked a while longer, winding down from being "up" the whole
day.

The next morning I fixed blueberry waffles with sausage patties for
breakfast and then we took the women to the airport.  As we were exchanging
goodbye hugs, I heard Susan say something to Tim.

"You know, Twerp, I thought after Frankie and I got together, I had lost my
family.  And, as much as I love Frankie, I felt pretty much alone."

Tim squeezed her and said, "Yes, Suze, I know that feeling."

"Oh, baby, I'm sure you do!  But, look, Timothy, I know now that I still
have family."  She gave us all a smile that reminded me of Tim.  "I have
you, sweetheart."  Then she turned to me, gave me a hug, and said "And you,
too, Ced."

"You got it, Susan!  I'll be happy to be yo brothuh."

Tim, who was hugging Frankie at the time, giggled, and I turned to him and
said, "See here, white boy, you ain't thinking racial thoughts is you?"

Well, that broke everyone up.  We all hugged again, and the two women went
through the checkpoint.

Tim and I drove from Hopkins to Shaker where we had Sunday dinner with
Angel, dad, and Keesha.  On the way there, Tim said, "You know, babe, I'm
so glad Susan came.  I really do feel as if I still have some family."

* * *

TIM:

Cedric and I had heard the others talking so much about Noplace we decided
one evening about 9:00 we'd go there.  We knew, however, that it had become
a favorite place for David and Max, and that Trey and Chaz had taken to
dropping by there, too.

When we got there, Chaz and Trey were sitting in a booth.  They motioned us
to join them, so we did.  Ced got a beer and brought me a glass of
something that purported to be chardonnay but tasted acidic and thin.
Since Trey and Chaz were already facing each other across the table, they
slid over, and Ced and I slid in beside them.  I was next to Trey, Ced next
to Chaz.

"Hey, guys," Chaz said, "What's up?"

"Well, Chaz," Cedric responded, "it's good to see you two together again.
Is everything OK?"

Chaz grinned and looked at Trey.  "Yeah, Ced, everything's cool with us."

We chatted for a while.  Then I asked, "Has anyone heard any news from Mark
about Stan and his new partner?"

"Doug," Trey offered.

"Yeah, Timmy," Cedric chimed in, "I was talking with Markie just this
afternoon.  I haven't had time to tell you.  The news ain't good."

I was instantly concerned, and I could feel that Trey was, too.  Chaz sat
there expectantly.

"Well, Cedric, don't keep us in suspense.  What's the problem in Lake
Polk?"

"You knew that Stan and Doug were going to spend the Veteran's Day weekend
in Key West, didn't you?"

We all nodded.

"Well, they had a beautiful time.  Mark says they both came home glowing
and that he'd never heard his dad sound happier than the night they got
back and he called to check in with him and Lori."

"So what's the bad news?" Chaz asked.

"You won't believe what happened."

"We might if you'd tell us, Cedric," I said, giving him a look.

"OK.  The Saturday night of that weekend, they spontaneously gave each
other a big kiss right there on Duval Street, the main drag.  Key West is a
wide open place where things like that happen all the time."

"Don't tell me," Trey said.  "Somebody recognize them."

"Yeah, that's exactly what happened.  They don't know who it was, but word
got back to Lake Polk as soon as they did."

"Shit!" Chaz said.  "I don't imagine that's a good place to be out."

"What else did Mark tell you, Ced?" Trey asked.

"Someone who works at city hall told Stan it was all over the building that
Tuesday, when Stan got back to work.  Later that week Doug was asked to
give up his volunteer job as a receptionist at the Ridenour Gardens there
in Lake Polk.  And the following Sunday, when he was serving at church, a
bunch of people refused the chalice."

"Dayum," Chaz said.  "What kind of place have those two gone to, anyway?"

"I wish there were something we could do to help them.  We all love Pops
like a father.  I'll bet we haven't heard the end of that story, either,"
Trey added.

"Well, look, guys," I said, "let's keep in touch with Mark.  And I think
I'll call Stan and offer him moral support, if nothing else."

The others agreed that was a good idea.  The news cast such a damper on
things that we all finished our drinks and headed for home.


Back at our place, I asked Ced for Stan's number and called it.

"Hello."

"Stan?"

"No, this is Doug."

"Oh, Doug, this is Tim Mead.  I'm a friend of Stan's."

"Hi, Tim.  It's good to talk with you.  Stan's told me a lot about you."

"I understand you are, or used to be, an English professor."

"Yeah, I taught at Cranmer for years."

I had to ask.  "What was your field?"

"Pretty much the same as yours, I'm told," he said, chuckling.  "I did my
dissertation on Faulkner."

"I'm looking forward to meeting you in person, Doug.  We will have lots to
talk about."

"Yes, Tim, I'm looking forward to it, too."

"Doug, I hear things aren't going too well for you guys these days."

"You hear correctly, I'm afraid.  Here's Stan.  I'll let him tell you all
about it.  And, Tim, it was great to get to talk to you."

"Yeah, Doug, I hope we can all get together soon.  Sorry to hear about your
troubles.  Hang in there!"

"Thanks, Tim."

"Timmy!"

"Stan!  I've heard about your being outed and that you guys have had some
problems.  What's up?"

"How much do you know?"

I told him what Cedric had learned from Mark.

"Well, that's pretty much where things are.  The only development you
didn't mention is that Father Dave, our rector, and Doug have decided that
for now Doug won't be serving the chalice for a while.  I wanted Doug to
hang in there, but he says he doesn't want to do anything at this point to
embarrass the church."

"Stan, is there anything the guys and I can do?"

"Tim, I love you for asking.  Please tell the brotherhood that Doug and I
are OK and can handle this.  I know you won't, but you might ask the others
to pray for us."

"OK."

"Dammit, Tim, I hate this a lot more for Doug's sake than my own."

"But it must be very awkward since you're the city manager."

"Well, yeah, babe, it is.  But Doug is something of a fixture here.  He has
lots of friends, he's active in the church and at the Gardens, he'd become
pretty well known around this little burg in the four or five years he's
been here.  And now I've come in and screwed it all up for him."

"I'll bet Doug would disagree with you on that."

Stan chuckled.  "Yeah, he's making faces and waving his hands at me for
what I just said."

"Well, Stan, it seems to me that you've found a good man.  I'd take a lot
of flak to protect what Ced and I have, and I'll bet you feel the same
way."

"You got that right, Tim!  Doug and I will manage to face down these
bastards, you can count on it."

It was my turn to chuckle.  "Somehow, I'm sure you will, Stan.  But
remember this, please.  If there's ever anything I can do, or the guys and
I can do, you MUST call on us.  OK?  We'll be there at the drop of a hat if
you need us."

"Yeah, yeah.  You're all just looking for an excuse to come to Florida."

"It sounds to me more as if you're in Bumfuck, Stanley, but you're right
that we'd all love to see you and meet Doug."

"We'll just have to make that happen, won't we?  So, give my love to all
the guys.  And, Tim, thanks, babe.  Love you."

"Love you, Stan.  Give Doug a hug from the brotherhood."

"Will do, Timmy!  Bye."

"Bye."

* * *

GEOFF:

It was a real high for me when Trey and all his buddies, including
Dr. Mead, Cedric Jones, and Mead's cousin and her partner, came to hear the
trio play.  It was also a thrill when Philip called a day or so earlier and
offered to drive me to Nighttown and back on that Saturday.  He said he
wanted to explore their menu some more and "wouldn't mind" hearing the trio
play again.  I knew that was his way of paying a compliment, for he'd made
it clear he really liked the way we played.

On the way home I reminded him that he had said he was going to come over
and listen to music with me sometime.  I suggested the next afternoon.

He looked over at me and grinned.  "Yeah, Geoff.  I'd like that. But you
gotta promise me something."

I almost said, "Anything!"  What I said was, "What's that?"

"I know you said you only had a keyboard, not a piano, in your apartment,
but I want you to play just for me.  Think you could do that?"

This wouldn't be an audition for Juilliard or anything, so why wouldn't I
play for this hunk?

""Sure, why not?"

We agreed that he'd come about 3:00, and then we'd go get something to eat
later.

He got there about 3:20.

* * *

PHILIP:

I wore jeans, a tee, and an untucked red flannel shirt to Geoff's place.
He was wearing jeans and a white cable-knit sweater.  I had admired his bod
ever since I saw him dive for the first time.  It was the beauty of his
body, of his movements in competition that kept me coming back throughout
the swimming season.  He has a perfectly-proportioned body, the kind that
has come to be known as a "swimmer's body."  And he is so poised when he
dives, so totally in control of that body.  Gets me hard just thinking
about it.

This particular afternoon, he looked great, as always, but he seemed
nervous.  He offered me some cabernet, and I took some because I thought it
might help settle him down.

He set a plate with some cheese and crackers on the coffee table in his
living room, and brought our wine.

His music system was better than mine.  He told me he had picked out the
components one at a time rather than buying a packaged set.  His Polk
speakers must have been five feet tall.  The looked really big in that
medium-sized room.

He asked me about some of my favorite jazz groups.  I mentioned several.

"You like the greats of the past, I see," he said, seeming to relax.
"You've told me you like the trio format.  Let me play some of the newer
groups for you."

"OK."

He started with a variation on the usual format, playing a cd with Dave
Brubeck and his sons which used electric instead of acoustic bass.  I
noticed that Geoff relaxed and became enthusiastic as he talked and played
music for me.  Before the afternoon was over, we had sampled a bunch of
groups, including Cyrus Chestnut's, Fred Hersch's, and Brad Mehldau's
trios.

We both sipped wine, snacked on the white Canadian cheddar and crackers,
talked, listened.  I hadn't been so relaxed in a long time.  I had always
thought Geoff looked great, and I had been a big fan of his playing since I
first heard him the previous spring.  Now I was discovering his enthusiasm
for and knowledge of jazz.  It was turning into a very pleasant afternoon.

Finally, though, as the late afternoon sun began to shine into his windows
and light up the room with gold/orange light, I asked the question.

"Geoff?"

"Yeah, Philip?"

"Will you play for me, babe?"

"Well, a promise is a promise, I guess.  Would you like another glass of
wine first?"

"Sure, why not?"

He took our glasses to the kitchen and came back with them refilled.  He
then pulled a pretty impressive looking electronic keyboard on a stand with
casters from a corner into the room.  He grabbed a kitchen chair and sat on
it in front of the keyboard with his back to the windows. As he sat there,
the sun slanting in the windows hit his curly, pale blond hair and turned
it into a halo.

He started with a Duke Ellington medley, looking at me intently, smiling
occasionally, but trying to gauge my reactions, I think.  The delighted
look on my face must have been the encouragement he needed.  He went on to
play pieces by Billy Strayhorn, Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter, and John
Coltrane.  Those are the ones I remember.

I was slumped down on the sofa, sipping my wine, practically blissed out as
this really great-looking guy played for me.

Then there was a pause.  I must have had my eyes shut.  What he played next
wasn't jazz.  I recognized it as classical music, but had no idea who the
composer was.  I just know it was a revelation.  I looked up at him.  I
couldn't see his face, but his hair glowed in the sun.  It looked like an
angel was playing for me.  And the piece he was playing was so incredibly
gorgeous, I almost came listening to it and looking at him.

When he stopped, I said, "Geoff, play it again for me, please!"

Without saying anyting, he played it through again.

When he stopped, I said, "My God, that was beautiful.  What was it?"

"One of the Schubert Impromptus, Deutsch 935, #2 in A flat, to be exact."

"Then there are more?"

"Yeah."

"Babe, could you play me some?"

He played two more.  I don't know what happened to me that afternoon, but I
took my first steps towards loving classical music.  At least classical
music as played by Geoff Benton!

Finally, though, my glass was empty again, and Geoff quit playing.

He came over and sat next to me on the sofa.  He took my head in both
hands, turned it to face him, and kissed me.  It was tentative, at first,
as if he didn't know quite what to do.  (He told me later it was his first
open-mouth kiss -- ever!)  But I responded hungrily, and soon he and I were
going at it like lovers.  All the while, though I was getting off on the
kiss, I was surprised as hell that quiet, shy Geoff had become so
aggressive.  Not that I minded.  Except again I wondered who was the
fisherman and who was the fish.  At that point, I didn't care.

Never the shy one, I began to rub his crotch.  He responded by putting his
hand on my chest and rubbing my nips.  I think he was surprised to feel the
nipple rings through my tee, but then he began to play with them and flick
them.  All that plus the hot kissing had us both gasping, panting.  I began
to try to take off his sweater.

He looked at me and grinned, I can only say lasciviously, and said, "What
do you think, hot stuff?  Shall we take this to the bedroom?"

This was a Geoff I had never dreamed of.  I think I nodded weakly.  He took
me by the hand and led me to his bedroom.  The bedspread and top covers
were off the bed, leaving only the bottom sheet.  I noticed that there were
KY and lube on the bedside table.  The cute, angelic bastard had obviously
planned this seduction.  I had to chuckle.

"What's so funny, Halifax?" he asked.

"I've been plotting for weeks to get you into a situation like this,
Geoffie.  And you beat me to it.  YOU!  Shy, retiring Geoff."

"All you had to do was ask, Philip.  And I got tired of waiting for you to
ask.  So, are we going to fuck, or what?"

"OK by me, angel."

"Angel?"

"I'll explain later.  Now, let's get out of these clothes."  We undressed
in record time, clothes landing here and there around the room.

I had seen Geoff almost naked many times -- when I watched him in his
skimpy Speedo at swim meets.  I knew he had a perfect body, at least
perfect in my eyes.  At the meets, he had always been shaved down, however,
and I discovered that he had quit shaving himself.  Thus there was a little
bit of almost white hair on his arms and legs, under his arms, and above
his cock.

And speaking of his cock!  It was a hose.  About six inches soft, it sort
of arced out over his balls and then pointed down.  It wasn't very big
around, but I was eager to see what it was like when he got hard.

Speaking of hard, I had been that way ever since the kiss in the other
room.  When Geoff saw it, he said "Wow!"

I grinned.  "Like that?"

He looked embarrassed.  "Yeah, I like that.  But it also scares me a
little."

"Scares you?"

He blushed all over.  "Oh, God, Philip, maybe I've done the wrong thing."

I put my arm around his shoulder and steered him over to the bed, where we
sat side by side.

"OK, sport.  Tell Uncle Philip all about it.  What's the problem?"

"I've wanted you ever since you came up and introduced yourself to me that
day in the cafeteria.  I've had the hots for you from day one.  But, uh,
now that we're here, like this, you know, I, uh --"

"Cold feet, babe?"

He grinned.  "More like a limp dick."

"The usual diagnosis for that problem, I'm told, is some sort of anxiety.
Are you anxious, Geoffie?"

"Shit, man, I'm a total virgin.  Well except for some jackoff session when
I was in middle school.  Never been with a man or a woman.  You can't
imagine how I've wanted you.  But now, . . ."

"Oh, so that's it.  Look, Geoff, would you like me just to go?"

"Please don't go.  Unless you're so turned off by me being a virgin that
you don't want to stay."

"No way.  I've wanted to jump your bones for longer than you wanted to jump
mine, studly.  I came to watch all your home swim meets because I wanted to
look at that hot body of yours.  I'd sit there in the bleachers and get
sweaty from the heat and humidity at the pool, but even more from just
watching you.  I knew from looking at your package that you'd have a
wonderful cock, and I've drooled at the thought of having it."

He looked almost like a little kid when he looked at me and said, "Really?"

"Believe it.  Now, if I stay this evening, we'll go slow.  We'll do only
what you want to do.  You say you've had some fantasies?"

He blushed again.  "Oooohhh, yeah."

"Then let's see if we can't make some of them come true."

"You sure you don't mind?"

"Benton, don't ask me that!  I've told you, I want you.  But I don't want
to hurt you."

Instead of saying anything, he grinned, put his hands behind my head, and
pulled my face toward his.  When we were kissing, we fell over onto the
bed.  He grabbed my rigid cock and began to play with it, feel it, explore
it, sort of.  I reached for his groin and found that the hose had filled
up.  I couldn't see it, but it was hot, very hard, and very long.  As I ran
my hand over it, I was guessing eight inches or so.  I was relieved that he
had a hardon and I was determined to help him keep it up for a long time.

My plan was to lick, suck, fondle, stroke, and rub him without letting him
cum until his brain melted.  It didn't quite work out that way.  Seems he
had other ideas.

He pulled away from our kiss and said, "Come on, swing around here so we're
not hanging off the edge of the bed."  When we had done that, he lay on top
of me and began licking my neck.  Well, I figured this was his first time,
so he could call the shots.  Besides, it felt fabulous.  Geoff may have
been inexperienced, but he was also aggressive.  He licked from my neck to
my nips.  Then he glommed on and sucked each one like a baby on his
mother's breasts.  He slurped the crease between my pects.  He licked his
way to my navel, into my navel, and on down.  When he got to my pubes, I
thought he'd probably work on my cock, but instead he scooted further down
on the bed and began licking the inside of my thighs, working his way up to
my balls, then going back to the other knee and working his way up that
thigh.  I wasn't minding any of this, of course.

Ever imagine having an angel with his head between your legs?  That was
what I saw as I looked down.  There was this perfect creature with the
fantastic but very pale body, and a glowing head, its pale blond curls
jiggling as it licked my legs.  My hard cock was drooling onto my belly.

Experience or no, Geoff was enthusiastic!  When he began to lick my balls,
I moaned.  "Is this okay?" he asked, looking up at me through his pale
blond lashes.

"Yeah, stud, you're doing fine!  Just do whatever comes natural."

When he took one of my balls into his mouth and began to roll it around
with his tongue, I suspected that he had been studying up, maybe reading
some Nifty stories, to make up for his inexperience.  He tongued and sucked
and occasionally took a little nip of the sac, and he had to have learned
about that from somewhere.  Or else he really was a natural.

After a while, I couldn't stand it.  "Geoff, work on my cock, babe,
please!"

He let my egg slip slowly out of his mouth, grinned up at me, and said,
"About time you asked.  But tell me if I'm doing anything wrong, okay?"

"You've never even had a blowjob, Geoffie?"

"Well, not since I was about 14."

"Just do what you think would feel good, and watch the teeth, stud."

He grabbed the base of my tool and began to lick up the shaft with the flat
of his tongue, very slowly.  I reacted with a stream of precum, of course.
He began to lick that, including the tip, to get every drop.

"Mmmm!  Tastes better than mine!" he said, smiling up at me.

"Benton, I'm shocked," I said, grinning back at him.

Then he made an O with his lips and put them around the head.  When he had
just the head inside his mouth, he began flicking the tip with his tongue.
When I jumped at the sensation, he never quit what he was doing, but he did
look up and me and smile with his eyes.  This guy was a tease, and that's
something that I never would have guessed about him.  I had to wonder if he
was telling me the truth about this being his first time.  If it really
was, then the guy was a natural, for sure.

I quit thinking about it and just enjoyed the feelings he was giving me.
He began to suck my cock, moving his head up and down slowly.  He never
deep-throated me, but he was brilliant otherwise, knowing just when and how
to used his tongue.  When I felt that familiar burning in my nuts, I pushed
his head off my dick.

"I'm gonna cum now, Geoff."

"Can't I swallow it?" he asked, almost pouting.

"Well, it would be safe enough, but you don't KNOW that babe.  Now, gotta
shoot."  So I pumped my throbbing dick a couple of times and came all over
our chests.  I fell back on the bed to bask in the post-orgasmic euphoria.
But there was Geoff.  He wanted to lick my cum off my chest.  I had to push
him away.

"Look, Geoffie, you need to learn some caution.  I'm clean, but you don't
have anything but my word on that.  You mustn't swallow my cum until you
know it's safe.  Now, I have no problem with that."  So I made him get on
the bed, and I licked my own cum off his chest and abdomen.

"Now, stud," I continued, "we'll continue your education.  Lie on your
stomach, please."

"You gonna fuck me?" he asked, looking eager.

"Not right away.  Maybe not today.  You can't do everything at once.  But I
think you'll like this.  Now, lie on your stomach.  Stick your butt in the
air."

He did as asked, and I climbed up behind him.  He didn't shave his ass or
crotch, but there were only a few very pale hairs there.  With his tight
little ass, his pink anus clearly visible, he was just too good to resist.
Not that I had any intention of resisting.  I'd wanted this guy in this
position for over a year, from the first time I'd seen him on a diving
board.

He jumped as he felt my breath in his crack.  Then, when I began to
literally rim him, running the tip of my tongue around his nearly hairless
pink rosebud, he said, "Ohmygod, Philip, that's even better than I
imagined!"

I chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"You remind me of a line Katie Hepburn says in `The African Queen.'"

He laughed.  "I KNOW that line: `I never dreamed a mere physical experience
could be so stimulating.'"

"You got it, Geoff!  Now, I need to get back to what I was doing."

"Oh, yeah, please!"

As I was doing that, I reached between his legs and cupped my hand under
his hard, drooling dick.  He whimpered and then sucked in his breath.

I got the boy pretty wild with my tongue.  I didn't jack his cock or
anything, just held my hand around the head, but I was giving him a pretty
good tongue-fucking by that time.

When he was good and worked up, I let go of his tool and slapped his right
butt cheek.

"Ow!  What was that for?"

"Roll over, stud."

"I thought you were going to fuck me."

"Eventually, probably, if you want me to.  But not yet.  Roll over."

When he did, I lay down with my head between his legs just above his hose.
It wasn't standing straight up.  I think its own weigh pulled it down
toward his belly.  But it was hard and throbbing and leaky.  I pulled it
upright and began to blow my breath on the moist tip.  Geoff shivered.
"Jeez!  I'm SO ready!  Please suck it!"  He looked at me with almost
frantic lust in those baby blue eyes.  Who was I not to grant him his wish?

It didn't take long.  Geoff had what was probably the longest prick I've
ever deep-throated, but I've had a lot of practice, and I eventually
managed it.  At least he isn't too thick.  I was really into it when he
interrupted his moaning to warn me that he was coming.  I pulled off, gave
his long dick a couple of pumps, and he sprayed all over himself.  I
believed him when he told me he was a virgin, but I wanted to break him in
the right way.  While he lay there, coming down from his high, I went into
his bathroom, found a wash cloth, soaked it in warm water, and came back to
where he lay.

I gently cleaned him up, while he just grinned at me.

"Philip?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Thanks, man.  I've dreamed for a long time about you and me doing this.
And it was a hell of a lot better than my dreams."

"Geoff, I've practically been stalking you since the first time I saw you
dive."

"You have?"

"Yeah.  Well, I haven't followed you home late at night or anything, but
you know I came to all your matches.  I came to the concert last spring.
I've wanted you for longer than you've wanted me, angel."

"Angel?  You said that before."

I laughed.  "When you were playing earlier, that first Schubert piece, you
were sitting with your back to the setting sun, which lighted up your hair
like a halo.  All I could think of was that you looked and played like an
angel."

"Man!  That shows me a side of you I'd never suspected.  And I'm flattered,
I think."

"Well," I said, pinching the nearest nipple, "don't go getting a swelled
head over it."

He chuckled.  "I've had many a swelled head over you, studly.  And today
has been incredible."

I took the washcloth back to the bathroom, rinsed it, and hung it up.

"Now, Benton, I'm starved.  Wanna go get something to eat?"

"If you'll settle for ham and Swiss on rye, a salad, and either more wine
or a beer, we can eat here."

"Hey, that sounds great.  Let's do it!"

Geoff got off the bed and reached for his boxers, which had landed on a
lampshade when we had been undressing in such haste earlier.

I grabbed his wrist.  "Who needs clothes?  Are you cold?"

"Hell, no!  I'm glowing."

"Then let's stay this way.  Whadda ya think?"

He leaned over and gave me a peck on the lips.  "I think that sounds sexy
as hell!"

So, we worked together in his small kitchen fixing the sandwiches and
salad.  It was a galley-style kitchen, and we had to rub against each other
to get past to get the food, plates, utensils, and so forth.  We were both
hard again by the time we sat down to eat.

I noticed as we ate that his nipples were distended.  "Cold, Geoff?"

"No, why?"

"I see your tittles standing up."

"Oh," he giggled, "that's just from being here naked and looking at you
naked.  You have a great bod, and I love all that hair!"

"You have a perfect bod, and maybe opposites do attract.  I love that
you're so smooth."

When we finished and were putting the food away and the dishes and
silverware in the sink, he asked, "Now can we continue my lessons?  When
are you going to fuck me?"

"How do you know I wasn't planning on you fucking me?"

"Well, I just sort of assumed you would be more, uh, -- dominant?"

"Hey, there's such a thing as an aggressive bottom, you know."

He laughed.  "Is that the way you'd describe yourself?"

"Not necessarily.  I like it both ways, but eventually, Geoff, I want to
fuck your brains out.  I think we should start with you doing me, though."

"Like now, maybe?" he said, grinning.

"Stud, I hate to say this, but I actually have studying to do and a column
to get started on.  It's due Tuesday, and I haven't a clue what I'm going
to write about."

He thought for a minute.  "Have you been reading about that conference the
Episcopalians are having in St. Louis?"

"I think I've seen something about it.  It's called "Claiming the
Blessing," isn't it?

"Yeah.  A bunch of gay and gay-friendly Episcopalians are getting together
to work on a plan to present to the church's national conference in
Minneapolis next summer.  They want the church to come up with a rite for
blessing same-sex unions."

"Cool!  I think that's what I'll write about.  And I'll bet I can find a
lot of information on line."

"Look for the websites of Oasis and Integrity."

"What are they?"

"They are both gay-oriented Episcopalian groups, I think."

"Are you an Episcopalian, babe?"

"No.  I got all this from Trey Withers.  He's good friends with Mark Mason,
who is an Episcopalian, and with Father Hewitt, the campus minister of
St. Peters' Episcopal.  Trey told me about it.  It will be pretty radical
if they can get their General Convention, or whatever they call it, to pass
that."

"Exactly the sort of thing I want people to know about.  Thanks for the
tip.  Now, I really have to run."

He looked at me a little longingly, and I really felt like shit that I had
to go.  "Are you free tomorrow night?"

"I have to go to Berea, where the trio has a rehearsal.  I'll be back about
9:00."

"I think I can get my work for my classes and the column done by then.  Can
I meet you here shortly after nine to continue your `instruction'?"

He grinned.  "Oh, yeah, teach me, daddy!"

We went back into the bedroom, where, after casting a longing look at the
bed, I gathered up my clothes and put them on.  Then, still naked,
semi-erect, and gorgeous, he walked with me to the door.  We had a long,
probing kiss.

"Damn, I think I've been seduced by an angel!"

He grinned.  "Moi?"

* * *

GEOFF:

It was a long day.  I had to get through my classes and then drive to
Berea, practice with the guys, and drive back to campus.  I had a hard on
the whole time, I think, like I was 18 again.

I pulled into my numbered slot in the building parking lot and got out of
the car.  As I was walking toward the back entrance, Philip got out of his
car in one of the guest slots and came over to me.  He put his arm around
me and licked my ear.  As I shivered, I thought, `so much for being in the
closet.'  Actually, no one was looking, but it dawned on me that, if I was
going to have Philip as my boyfriend, I'd be totally out on campus.  Oh,
well.  I'd have to have a talk with the guys at our next rehearsal, but I
thought they'd be cool.

When we got into the apartment, I hung my keys on the hook next to the door
and asked Philip if he wanted a beer or some wine or something.  Before he
had a chance to answer, I said, "I didn't think so," and began pulling him
toward the bedroom.

He chuckled and said, "Well, you are the eager one, aren't you?"

I realized I must have looked foolish to him, so I stopped before we got to
my bed, which I had turned back before leaving that afternoon.

"God, Philip, you must think I'm pathetic.  I'm sorry.  Last night was so
great, and I've been horny all day thinking about this evening, but that's
no reason to act the way I just was."

"Relax, stud.  You know, it's kind of refreshing to see someone so eager.
Most of the guys I've been with are pretty blasé about sex.  Your
excitement is a turn-on.  So, what say we get out of these clothes?"

He was wearing a tee with an unbuttoned flannel shirt over his jeans.  I
took off the button-up shirt, and then he held his arms up for me to remove
his tee.  I couldn't help running my hands over the hair that swirled
around his chest and playing with the nipples that were peeking through the
hair.  He just stood there grinning at me for a minute or so.  Then he
grabbed the bottom of my sweater and began to pull it up.  I raised my
arms.  When he got it off, he took off the tee I had been wearing under it.
We both stood there in our jeans.  My cock was straining so hard against
the confines of my jeans that it hurt.  As I put my hand down to rub his
bulge, he began to play with my nipples.

It never felt that good when I did it.  I continued to rub his hard cock
through his jeans with one hand while I began to play with his nipples with
the other, sometimes just running it through his luxuriant chest hair.

"Mmmm!  That's nice, stud, but let's not go too fast, OK?  Let's get out of
the rest of our clothes."

I undid the top button of his jeans.  Of course, they were 501's, and in my
impatience, I was fumble-fingered, so it took much longer to get them
unfastened than I wanted it to.  Meanwhile, he'd gotten my jeans unsnapped,
unzipped, and around my ankles.  I squatted and pulled his dick through the
fly of his boxers.  He put a hand on either side of my head and tilted it
up towards his face.

"Jesus, Geoff.  I've never had any guy as eager as you are.  I want you,
too, babe, but let's at least get these shorts off and move to the bed!"

Again, I felt a little as if I had made a fool of myself.

"Geoffie, you're blushing.  It's cool.  What guy wouldn't be flattered to
have a stud like you all hot to suck his dick?  But we did that last night.
Tonight, we move on to other pleasures.  Now," he took my hands and pulled
me up, "get out of those boxers, and let's get to the good stuff!"

We both stepped out of our boxers and jeans, and there we stood in our
sneakers and socks.  We grinned at each other and sat down, side-by-side,
on the bed to remove our footgear.  When we were finished, Philip grabbed
me by the shoulders and pushed me onto my back on the bed.  Then he kissed
me, using his hand on my jaws to force my mouth open and then probing it
with his tongue.

I was in heaven.  My cock was hard and throbbing.  I think it must have
been leaking a lot of precum, too.  Until Philip, I'd never had an
open-mouth kiss with anyone.  I'd fantasized, of course, and read some of
those Nifty stories, but in the flesh, never.  It all felt so right.  I
began to probe his mouth with my tongue, to feel around in there, to slide
my tongue against his, and I thought I was going to explode.  My breath
grew short to the point where I just fell back onto the bed, trying
desperately to get enough air into me through my nose.

That seemed to worry Philip, for he looked down at me and asked, "Hey stud,
are you OK?"

"Yeah," I gasped.  "That's sensational!"

He laughed.  "Well, babe, I think you're onstage now."

"What do you mean?"

"I think it's time for you to fuck me."

No!  me fuck him?  That isn't what I thought would happen.

"Are you sure?  Don't you want to do me?"

"Oh, Geoffie, I'm going to do you -- eventually.  But I think you need to
learn how to do it first."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!  Now, you need to get me lubricated.  You can use lube, of course,
but . . ."

I knew what he meant, and I chose that option.

"Turn over, Philip, and get into position.  I'm gonna get you ready.  I'm
gonna `do' the president of the SGA!"

He turned over, chuckling.  "Geoff, you're amazing, guy!  Go to it!

He stuck his butt in the air, and I crawled into position.  I looked at his
ass.  It was lightly covered with dark hair, except in the crack, which was
pretty hairy.  I used both hands to spread his cheeks.  There, surrounded
by a circle of curls, was his tannish-pink anus.

I licked his ass cheeks while kneading them with my hands.  Wonderful!  I
had wanted to do that ever since I had first seen him there in the
cafeteria.  Then I spread them apart again, and sniffed.  The aroma wasn't
bad at all.  I could smell a smell of man, a smell of soap, but nothing
fecal.  I tentatively touched my tongue near his rosebud.  Then I began to
circle it.  He moaned and said, "Yeah, babe, that's SO nice!"  I got up the
nerve to lick his crack and then to lick more firmly his asshole.  Tasted
way better than I had expected.  Soon I got up the nerve to actually stick
my tongue in his hole.

Philip gasped after a particularly forceful jab of my tongue, and then
chuckled.  "Well, I'm almost ready.  I think you'd better use a little
lube, though.  And, since you are new at this, try putting some lube on
that long tool of yours before you put the rubber on it.  Then lube up the
rubber good."

I did what he suggested, and then I began to smear lube on his asshole.  I
put some on my middle finger and worked that gently up his chute.  As I
twisted my finger around, Philip moaned and wiggled his ass.  Then I
touched a hard bump, and he hissed, "Yes!  That's it, babe!  You've found
my nut!  Sure you haven't done this before?"

"Pure dumb luck, stud.  Feels good, does it?"

"Oh, wait until I show you!  For now, I think I'm ready.  Fuck me, Geoffie,
and see if you can hit the same spot with that big, long pecker of yours."

My "big, long pecker" was hot, hard, and throbbing.  It had been waiting
for this moment for weeks.  Actually, I had been waiting a lifetime for
this moment.  I was worried that I might screw it up, so I pushed very
gently against Philip's pucker.  It went in easily about half way.  Then he
tensed up.

"Easy, babe.  I don't think I've ever taken anything quite that long
before.  Give me a minute to get used to it."

Feeling guilty because I had hurt him, I began to rub his back and his butt
gently.  In a moment, I felt him relax his sphincter.

"OK, stud.  Give me the rest of it slowly."

I gave it to him very slowly.  It seemed to slip in without resistance, and
I was immediately struck by how hot and how good it felt.  Every square
millimeter of my cock was being held and caressed by the walls of his
chute.  It was an incredible feeling.

"You OK?" I asked.

"Better than that.  So, Benton, what are you waiting for?  Fuck me!"

Even though I'd never done it before, I knew what to do.  I began to move
slowly, and it was out of this world.  I began to move a little faster, and
it was even better.  I pumped slowly.  I pumped fast.  I took short strokes
and then long ones.  Whatever I did, it was like nothing I'd ever felt or
even imagined!

Philip was enjoying it, too.  "Oh, god, yes!  That's it, babe!  You're
hitting it!  Yes, do just that!  More!"

I couldn't help grinning, but of course he couldn't see me.  "You sure this
is OK?"

He looked back over his shoulder at me and snarled, "Shut up and keep
fucking!"

I did the best I could.  But I hadn't come since the previous evening.  I'd
been saving it for this moment.  I'd have been smarter to jack off that
morning in the shower.  I was so aroused even before I entered Philip that
there was no way I could go for long without an orgasm.

Philip kept encouraging me, and I cut out the variety and just began
pumping hard and fast.  He was banging his ass back against my pubes and
thighs, and we were both sweating.  My hands began to slide around a little
as I held his hips.

"Oh, fuck yes, you got it!  Shit!  Fuckin' awesome, Geoffie!"

Well, just about then "fuckin' awesome Geoffie" shot the biggest load of
his life into the rubber he was wearing.  I almost passed out.  When I was
finished, I collapsed on top of Philip, who collapsed onto the bed.  I
don't know how long we lay there, but eventually it occurred to me that all
of my weight was on Philip, so I rolled off him.

When I did that, he rolled over onto his back, and I noticed that he was
still hard.

"Sorry I came so fast.  Here, let me help you."  He grinned and lay still,
his big dick sort of waving in the air.

When I began to suck him, he put his hands very gently in my hair and just
rested them there.  He wasn't trying to guide my head or anything.  It was
just a sweet contact.  It didn't take long before he pushed my head away.
He almost made it, but then he erupted.  I got cum on my face, and he got
it all over his abdomen.

He lay still with his eyes closed for a moment or so.  When he opened them
and saw my cum-spotted face, he pulled me toward him and licked off all his
own cum.

"You didn't swallow any of that, did you?"

"No.  Would that be a problem?"

"It wouldn't be, Geoff, but you don't know that, so you mustn't take
chances.  Got that?"

"Yeah, babe, I know what you're saying."

I went into the bathroom to throw away the condom.  When I got back, he was
sitting on the edge of the bed.  I was disappointed.  I had hoped he'd
screw me. Or just lie there and hold me for a while.

He flashed me that sexy grin.  "You get and A plus as a fucker, Geoff,
especially since it was your first time.  Of course, you have excellent
`equipment,' and you seem to know how to use it instinctively."

"Thanks, teach," I said, sitting beside him and grabbing his cock.  "Don't
you want to show me how an expert does it?"

"I sure do, stud, I sure do.  But not tonight.  I have to get back and do
final edits on that article about the `Claiming the Blessing' Conference in
St. Louis for the paper tomorrow."

I must have looked disappointed because he put his hand under my chin and
tipped my head up.

"I'll call you tomorrow, and we'll see when we can get together for your
next session.  I can't wait to take your cherry, babe!"

"Well, OK.  Tonight was fabulous, you know.  Ever since I first saw you in
the cafeteria, I've wanted to get at that sweet ass of yours.  And, boy,
did I get at it tonight.  Thanks, hunk.  My first fuck couldn't have been
better."

He grabbed me by a nipple and pinched.  "Your second one is going to be
even more memorable, Geoffie."

I put on my boxers, figuring there was no need to put anything else on
since I was going to bed soon anyway, and Philip got dressed.  When he was
finished, I walked with him to the door.

"So you'll call me?"

"Count on it!  I've had my eye on that tight little butt of yours for ages.
Can't wait to get my mouth on it and my cock in it!"

He grabbed me around the waist, pulled me toward him and -- well, the best
way to describe it is to say he raped my mouth with his tongue.  When I was
thoroughly hard and wondering if I could come again that quickly, he quit,
grinned, said, "Thanks, Geoffie," and left.

I said a feeble "Bye" and stood there panting.


[Chapter 10 of "Out of the Night" was posted simultaneously with this
chapter.  I'm going to be away for a couple of weeks, so there will be a
hiatus in postings to both stories.  Look for chapter 11 of OOTN in about
two weeks and chapter 35 of this story a week later.  Love to all.  --Tim]