Message-ID: <074310Z30101994@anon.penet.fi> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories From: an80382@anon.penet.fi X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories Organization: Anonymous contact service Reply-To: an80382@anon.penet.fi Date: Sun, 30 Oct 1994 07:37:29 UTC Subject: GayBlade! {mm} Lines: 238 --------------------------------------------------------------- ===============================>IFQ<=============================== --------------------------------------------------------------- | The following story is a MM story, this means it contains | | male/male sex, or makes refrence to it. If you are not | | interested in gay male sex, then please do not read the | | following story. IFQ does not accept E-Mail, nor will we ever| | All E-Mail messages will be ignored. Any requests for stories| | (We take requests) must be made on the following newsgroups: | | ALT.SEX.STORIES, ALT.SEX.STORIES.D, SOC.MOTSS | | | --------------------------------------------------------------- ===============================>IFQ<=============================== --------------------------------------------------------------- [ifq03.txt, "GayBlade!"] GayBlade Oh, I love to go skateing. A lot. It is such a neat exercise to get out on a pair of high speed blades and ride about the city, through tunnels, under bridges, off of stairs. It makes my day, anyway. Of course, between studying for my damned English class (well it isn't studying as much as it is READING AND READING AND READING), and working (at a gas station), I had little time but on the weekends to go out and do some skating. But of course, when somthing you love only happens on a very seldom occasion, it intensifies the pleasure. ANYWAY...I lived in the third tower of our dorms at ITU. I wasn't an RA or anything, just an old dorm rat. I lived way up on the top floor, primarilay because hights give me a rush, and the view of the city was great, and I had almost instant acsess to the roof. Not to mention I love the sound of rain when I sleep at night, and that happend RIGHT over my head several times a month, which was very nice indeed. Well, the weekends rolled around quick enough, four times a month, and when they did, I would always ask sombody to skate with me. I really don't enjoy skating as much on my own as I do with a friend (I really DO feel kind of silly tooling around town on blades by myself, it makes the towns folks think I am on skates just so I can get to work or somthing, like I don't have a car!!) So then I would always ask some guy to go with me. Of course, I would always ask a CUTE guy, primarly because I knew it was so damn hot outside, and he'd end up taking off his shirt and wrapping it casually around his waist, as most cute guys do, cause they KNOW that chicks dig looking at a nice body. Most weekends when I went skating then, I got to look at some guys nice body, maybe sit next to him in the park, or I would buy him a Pepsi or somthing. But that was really all, and I did accept it that way. I knew damn well that almost every guy at our dorm was straight. It was almost ALWAYS that way. When you get picky about looking at certain types of guys, like I do, your chances of finding a GAY guy is next to nil. Of course, if you end up choosing most of your buddies on their looks, you DO end up being surrounded a lot of the times by some really cute people. And being in that company made up for the fact that I wasn't getting laid at ALL. Well, it happend that I would ask a guy named Steve to go skating with me about twice a month. He was also in my English class (and my pre-med class) and he actually had a thing for wheels like I did. So he always said "Yeah, sure. I'll go with you." As time wears on then, Steve became one of my better friends. We studied together all the time as well. Quite frankley, my habits were miserble, and he was dedicated and habitual in his studies. I figured then that one day I would work in his doctors office...as his secretary or janitor. But he wouldn't hear of that, not even my wisecracks about my miserble study habits. He layed guilt trips on me left and right so that I'd study with him Oh, and thanks to him, my G.P.A. was raised several points. But that is beside the point. I had somthing he DIDN'T have. A REALLY nice computer. A PowerMac, with a 21 inch color monitor, and a video input and capture board and all kinds of other options (My dad was a Neuro- Surgeon, he pulled in QUITE a bundle). So I let Steve use my machine all the time. Of course, the reason is that I had ordered several software packages that had to do with the study of the human body and medicine. So it was benificial to both of us to use it. Of course, I did OTHER things on my computer. For instance, I ALWAYS downloaded sexually explicit material from the net systems our school had acsess to. Pictures and stories and such. I also had some gay videos that I kept locked in a safe in my room. When the need arised, I could watch them on my computer because it had a VCR hooked into it. I could also STORE some of the "better" parts of these videos on the hard drive. All of it was, of course, stored in a single folder called "X-Ton-at". Sounded pretty un- suspicious to me. It was LOCKED, with a password...ROLLERBLADE. Dumbass me, I should have kept it all on a tape in my safe. But X- Generation me had to have INSTANT gratification. Of course, it has a happy ending for me, anyway. So one weekend when Steve and I went out skating, he came out of his room without his shirt on at all. I was curious, usually it is human nature to be clothed untill you are too damn hot. But hey, Steve was NICE to look at. NICE indeed. Okay, GORGEOUS. He was a Christian slater looking type, not very tall at all, and trim as hell, and a dark rug of hair on his chest. Now I have heard the term "bear" before, used to describe hairy men. Not being active in the gay community, I wasn't really sure what it meant completley, but the term led me to think of men that were, uh, kind of HEAVY. This was DEFINATLY not he case. He ws one of those guys that kind of matched the deco-art stick figure drawings of men shaped like triangles, with a pointed waist and wide shoulders. But he wasn't, like that guy on the Solo-Flex ads, he was classified by me as boy next store+gorgeous. And I was HAPPY to have him as my buddy. So the two of us went out into the city on our blades, up through the buisness district, to the theater, downtown, to the park, around the lake and fields, and the we decided to sit down back in a small woods like patch that overlooked the lake. I was quite hot, and I guess I looked like it. I had patches of sweat under my arms and on my chest. Steve's whole chest was covered in a nice sheen of sweat (sweat or oil, it all makes the male body SO much more attractive, but sweat is more fun to lick off his nipples). So he says "Goddamn it's fucking hot out here!". "Yeah, it sure is hell is. I'm gonna take this thing off and wring it out.", I said. So I took off my shirt and wrung it out. It was actuallly not wet enough to drip, but it was kind of a reflex reaction, traditional man activities to wring out a sweaty shirt during a sport type activity. We also took off our skates and tied the laces together so we could sling them over our shoulders. The dorm wans't a far walk away, and it was moslty grass. My feet were too tired and hot to skate any more anyway. Well, somthing in him twitched, so I thought, cause he started complining about a back pain. He tried to reach back and rub a spot in his mid-back. "I think it's my rhomboids..", a muscle of which I was SURE I had seen in a diagram of the muscle structure of the back. But I was definatly inclined to think it was a more generic term, and definatly not a specific muscle. Anyway, I said "right here?" and touched his back where it appeared he was trying to reach. "Yeah that's it." "Oh, DEFINATLY the ROMBOIDS." I said in a sarcastic tone. I had no clue anyway. I put all of my fingers on the spot of his back that he said hurt, and I pressed in, and massaged that spot for a few seconds. The sweat from his body lubricated my little back massage for him. I knew he wasn't looking, and I licked the sewat off my fingers. I actually felt kind of guilty, like I was raping him or somthing. But anyway, after a few seconds of me rubbing that spot on his back, he stood up and streched. Then he walked behind me, and said "I'm going to take a piss, I'll be back in a second." He walked back into the small cluster of pine trees that was behind us. I sat and continued to look into the lake, wondering if it was actually WRONG for me to want this guy so much. I wondered about this often, if I was taking advantage of people because they looked good. My deepest internal conflict was dealing with the idea that I might not have any REAL friends. That NONE of them were actually my friends because I enjoyed their company, but because I enjoyed their bodies. In reality, of course, I was nuts. It was their bodies that attracted me to them in the FIRST place, it was their company that kept me going back to be with them. But somtimes this enlightining concept eluded me, especially when I was with sombody I really wanted, but couldn't touch. I must not of been paying attention or somthing, because Steve actually DID come back in what seemed like a second. But I sure didn't hear him. He was in bare feet anyway, and he was dead silent. All I saw was a shadow in front of me which approched REAL quick, before I heard Steve sit down directly behind me, and he did it VERY quick. He slapped both his hands down on my shoulders, in that masculine way that two straight guys might show affection for each other. Only his hands did not leave my shoulders. In fact the stayed there and tightened up. Then he pulled me back just a tad. Not being his intention to yank me back, he was just getting up on his knees and leaning forward, because he put his mouth right next to my ear. "Can I ask you a PERSONAL question?" "Uh, sure, I guess." "What exactly are you keeping all that stuff on your computer for? All those guy pictures and stories and crap?" I was of course shocked as hell. I didn't even know he knew how to do anything besides what I taught him how to do. "There was password on there, you should have made it somthing less obvious, like 'swisscheese' or somthing totally ambiguous. 'rollerblade' was quite easy to guess you know." "Yeah, I guess it was." His hands still did not losen their grip on my shoulders. "Tell me somthing then. Out of ALL the guys in T3 (tower three, where we lived) WHICH would you like to have most?" "Huh?" As if I was denying that I comprehended what he was getting at. He moved his mouth closer to me ear, and in his hot breath he whispered, extremely quickly, like he was preturbed that I would pretend I didn't understand his request for me to express my sexual desires, "Okay. Take this fantasy then. 'John Doe' goes out running. A mile or two on a nintey degree day, with his shirt off and a pair of lycra running shorts on. He runs back to the front steps, and you are sitting on the bench by the door. You follow him up and into his room. You close the door behind you. You go over to him and you kiss him on his mouth. He slides his tongue into your mouth and you hang there for a second. Then you lower down and lick the sweat on his stomach and underarms and his tan sweaty chest and his nipples. He says "suck me,now" and you drop to your knees and slide his shorts off. He slips his own shoes off and you take his hard cock into your mouth. You suck hime as hard and as best as you can, untill he comes into your mouth. Then he tells you to stand up. He slides your shirt off you, and then lowers your shorts. You remove your shoes and then kick your shorts against the wall. He pulls you up against his steaming hot, sweaty body. Your arms slide down around his back and to his ass. Your hard nipples are pressed against his, and his sweat lets your bodies glide over each other like silk. He kisses you on your eyes and you close them, and he whispers "I love you". You let all your weight fall into his arms, and then you kiss again. Then he slides his hand down, and wraps it around your cock, and slowly, while standing in front of you with his tongue in your mouth, jerks you off until you come. Do you understand THAT?" "Yes." I said. "Good." He slowly lowered his arms down around my front, and linked his fingers across my chest. "Now who are the people that you would really like John Doe to be? How about Andy?" "Bill." "Ryan?" "Alex." "Jeff?" "Keith." "Chris?" "Rob." "Tony?" "No...I want you to be John Doe." I said in my most humble, quiet voice. Then he kissed me on the neck. I turned my head to the side, and he kissed me on the lips. "My name isn't John Doe, but I still love you Mike. Let's go home...", he said. I'm glad we had taken our skates off earlier and had decided we were too tired to skate anymore, because then we got to walk home hand in hand. ___________________ ______________________ ___________________ | _______ ___ | =-=-=-==-=-=-= | ___ _______ | | | ___|___ /| | IFQ {M/M} Fiction! | |\ ___|___ I | | | | | | I | | | Post a story request | | | | | F | | | | |___|___| F | | and we may honor it! | | |___|_Q_| | | | |/___ |_____Q_| | by------>GhostWriter | |_______| ___\| | |___________________|______________________|___________________| ------------------------------------------------------------------------- To find out more about the anon service, send mail to help@anon.penet.fi. 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