Date: Sat, 30 Nov 2002 15:49:47 +0000
From: krisjon40@hotmail.com
Subject: Student-no-Longer Chapter 8

Student no longer.  A story in 10 chapters


Disclaimer:  This story contains passages of explicit description of sexual
activity between boys of 18+.  There is also strong language.  If you are
likely to be offended by these, please read no further.


Chapter 8:  The Truth Hurts

	It felt so strange, sitting in my first lecture on Monday morning.  Last
week I had been Little John, the naive, immature, slender young man whom
everyone liked ... but patronised.  Now, not only was I no longer a virgin,
but I had had sex with four boys, Bob, Andy, Candy and Mark.  I had found
things out about my sexuality which had been shrouded in mystery until just
two or three days ago.  I must have done more outrageous things in the last
weekend than anyone else in the lecture theatre in their whole lives....
including the lecturer whose voice only occasionally interrupted my internal
train of thought.

	"Do I look different from the outside?" I wondered. "Can my fellow students
tell that yesterday I was fucked while hanging from wall bars in a friend's
private gym, or that only a day earlier, I had searched up a girl's skirt
only to find a surprise, floppy penis."  I felt myself becoming aroused at
the vividness of the memory, blushed furiously, and then blushed because I
was blushing.

	Something in the attitude of others had changed to me though.  People
seemed to be avoiding me.  There were no welcoming smiles, no playful
banter, no breezy invitations to go for a drink.  They were polite to be
sure, but no student wants politeness.  Politeness freezes.  By the time my
last lesson came up, I was feeling leaden and dejected. 	I wanted friends,
not just sex-partners.

	At the end of the class, I watched my fellow students saunter out, without
a backward glance, in little friendship groups, and I sat alone with my head
in my hands, tears pricking my eyes.  No-one seemed to be even aware that I
has stayed there.  I rested my arms on the bench and snuggled my face into
the folds of my sleeves, to find some sort of comfort.  Then I felt a touch
on my shoulder.  I looked up to see - Jake.  Good old straight Jake.
Straighter than straight.  The first lad to befriend me when I came from my
Northern town to the big, scary metropolis.

	"You'd better come for a coffee," he said, noting my wet eyes.

	Dumbly, I followed him out.

	He made for a small Italian snack-bar just round the corner from the
college. He got us two cappuccinos and we squeezed into seats at a cramped
table.  It was very crowded and noisy as only Italian eating-places can be.

	"Thanks," I said. And he knew that I meant thanks for more than the coffee.

	I remembered with a shudder that one of the four agressors of Bob had been
deep in conversation with Jake and wondered how much he knew about my new
life-style.  Could I take another sermon from him?

	"Look," he said awkwardly.  "I know you and I have not being seeing eye to
eye recently.  You know that I think you're getting yourself into a lot of
shit, and it's all due to that prick, Bob, but I won't stop being your
friend .... if you agree, that is."

	I could have kissed him then and there - except that would have sent him
scooting out of my life for ever.  But his homophobia seemed to be less
virulent than I had imagined it before.

	I suddenly wanted to confess everything I had done over the weekend, and
confess my love for Bob as well.  I didn't want to betray him any more by
denying how much I felt for him, but before I coud get the first hesitant
words out, our conversation was rudely interrupted by a grossly obese female
of about fifty who heaved herself on to a chair at our table.

	"You don't mind ducks," she wheezed, " but there's nowhere else and I can't
survive without my coffee and a fag."

	She hadn't given us much choice. She lit up, her gigantic breasts wobbling
under a loose fitting lacy top, and coughed ash out of the ash-tray and into
our saucers.  I wanted to tell her to wobble off somewhere else.

	"You students?" she gabbled.  "Wish I had your life, I do really...." and
she achieved her objective.  She got the whole table to herself as Jake and
I headed for clean fresh air and space.

	But she had destroyed the moment.  Discretion got the better of my
instinctive wish to make a clean breast of everything, and we went our
separate ways, resolved, however, to have a good chat tomorrow again,
perhaps have lunch together. I watched his trim figure depart, filled with
nostalgia and a persistant sexual longing for him.

	I found a note in my pigeon-hole bidding me see my tutor before I left
college.  I knocked on the door.

	"Don't you owe me an essay?" he asked sternly.

	I had completely forgotten.

	"We're not pleased," he continued in a pompous voice.  "It's not just the
essay. All the lecturers have commented on your day-dreaming in their
classes and you missed some essential work last week. You were noticed going
off the premises with another lad, who has a distinctly shady reputation on
this establishment. I gather, in fact, that he's been ejected from the
college.  He is a student no longer.  Frankly, if you don't buck up your
ideas, I will have to inform your parents that you also are going to be a
student no longer."

	I could hardly speak.  The injustice of it all enraged me. I stood up and
left without a word.  I couldn't bring myself even to say goodbye.

	I suddenly wanted to run for comfort to my Mum and Dad, but I had secrets
now, secrets too shameful to divulge, shameful secrets which would not allow
me ever to look them in the face again.  I was no longer their Little John,
whom they had invested so much hope in.

	I arrived back at the flat.  I felt in my pocket for the key Bob had cut
for me, only to find it was missing.  It was the last straw.  My eyes full
of tears, I knocked on the door.  There was no reply.  I was locked out.

	Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!

	I hammered on it again....and again....and again....releasing all my pent
up feelings after a shitty day ....on that bloody, fucking, wooden bloody
door ....hammering till my fists were bruising as much as the heart inside
me.

	"Hey, hey, hey," came a voice from above. " Calm down for pity's sake.
What's up?"

	It was Paul, the Pakistani I'd met on Saturday night at the pub.

	I turned away so that he couldn't see my tear-stained face.

	"Bob's out," he said simply.  "He's at work."

	Of course he's fucking at work," I squawled. "He's always at bloody,
fucking work.  He lives at work."

	"Don't get yourself upset with Bob," Mark said in a sanguine voice. "He
can't help it.  You and I will be in the same position before too long
anyway."

	"Not me," I retorted primly. "I can't afford the time.  I've got behind
with my studies as it is."

	He looked at me strangely for a few quiet seconds and then said in a hushed
voice, "You'd better come upstairs to my flat.  I think I've got something
to tell you."

	I hesitated.  Every time I went into someone's room in this building, I
seemed to end up having sex with them.  And Paul was gorgeous. I fancied the
arse off him. He was slim and elegant.  His dark, flawless skin contrasted
with his gleaming white shirt and his even teeth which showed up whenever he
flashed his stunning smile.  He wore dark trousers and the package between
his legs suggested a nice, slender cock of generous length.  Yummeee.

	Definitely too difficult to resist if he came on to me! And I would end up
by being unfaithful to Bob yet again. But he beckoned me on and I put up no
resistance.

	In his room (Candy's room), we sat down and he found us a coffee and
chocolate biscuits.

	"John," he said in a rather strangled voice.  "They have told you what they
do, haven't they?"

	I lay back, enjoying the relaxation of the chat and the warmth of the
coffee dribbling down my throat after the frustrations of the day.

	"Who do you mean?" I asked, absently.

	"The lads," he replied.  "Bob, Candy, Mark, Andy," he explained.

	What do you mean what they do?" I said ever more obtusely.

	"Their work?"

	Suddenly, I felt a prickling sensation creep up my spine.  I remembered
Bob's evasiveness when I had questioned him about the job that was
constantly dragging him away at short notice.

	"Is it against the law?" I asked in a frightened voice.  I didn't really
want to hear the answer.

	"Oh my god!" he exploded. "The bastards haven't told you.  The shitty
buggers.  They might have told you."

	I was very anxious now.

	"Tell me.  Don't hang around.  Tell me."

	"I don't think it's my place."

	I turned round and caught him in a half Nelson. I pressed his arm against
his back threatening to break it.

	"OK, OK," he whimpered.  And then in a burst of temper at being surprised
into submission, he revealed the truth, with a snarl: " They're all
rent-boys."

	I looked so shocked but his anger continued to lay it on the line: "They're
all rent-boys, hustlers, male prostitutes, they fuck for money ..."

	"All right, all right," I screamed.  "I get the picture."  And indeed I
did, and I felt an emptiness in the pit of my stomach as I pictured Bob
licking the cocks of one stranger after another, kissing them into arousal,
offering his beautiful bum for them to force their swollen members into.  I
pictured old men bouncing up and down on him, showering him with their cum
and wiping their cocks on his hairless chest. I pictured them swooning over
the delicious kink at his his cock tip and I pictured him then coming home
to me, his lover, exhausted and emptied and flopping asleep beside me,
knowing he was disappointing me yet again.

	And then I remembered the conversation outside our flat, when Paul had
given me that long, searching look.

	"And what did you mean when you said that we would be working soon?" I
said, desperately not wanting to hear the answer.

	 He replied slowly.  "Haven't you realised that we are being trained?"

	"No way," I said stoutly.

	"Oh come on, John," he said defiantly.  "Surely even you haven't been so
naive as not to cotton on to that? Can't you remember Bob's first lessons
with you?"

	But that was a joke....wasn't it?  It was a laugh.  An escape from college.

	"Weren't you taught the corny Bob's Laws of Sexodynamics?"

	I blushed to the roots of my hair, remembering my premature ejaculation,
and the way I had rushed sex.

.....aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! I screamed inwardly in sheer
frustration at my ignorance.

	"Don't worry.  We've all had that lecture.  I had it on Saturday night when
you were fucking Candy."

	So he knew that as well.

	"After Bob, you were passed on to Andy, to help you appreciate the playful
in sex. He will have helped you to lighten up, to realise that sex can be a
giggle.  Then my Candy will have introduced you to the pervy in sex, the
dark secretive side.  She is expert at exploring the ambiguities of sex,
very important for a rent-boy.  Mark will have shown you the
sado-masochistic side.  He's brilliant at that - has very satisfied
customers in his private gym.  They come out all striped and dishevelled,
but wonderfully satisfied - kind of purified..."

	I looked at him in amazement.

	"But what if I don't want to ... work," I said, only just managing to get
even the euphemism out. My eyes were filling up with tears yet again.

	Steadily he replied, "You don't have an option."

	I gulped.  "Why?"

	"Oh come on. Think about it! How do you think you have been living in a
luxury apartment for next to nothing?  How do you think you have as much
food as you can guzzle, as many fine clothes as you could wish to wear?  How
is your every need catered for?  A kind fairy? Come on, mate.  They don't
exist.  There's no such thing as a free lunch."

	"The Landlord." I said as the truth was finally beginning to dawn.

	"The Landlord," he confirmed.  "He's the pimp and now it's pay-back time
for us.  We're going to be called on to earn our keep."

	"What if we refuse?"

	"Not recommended.  Bob tried that and the Landlord set his dogs on to him.
I know that because Candy was one of them, in her fierce male disguise!"

	I flinched.  That was what was happening that fateful day when I took Bob
in.

	"And already, the Landlord has started cutting off your escape routes.
He's been telling key people at your college about your exploits.  He's fed
information to your pal, Jake, and sent notes to your tutor.  You're getting
less and less popular there."

	I wanted to scream.

	"But why don't we two run away from all this.  Go north?"

	I looked across at him  hopefully, but he shook his head sadly.

	And I knew very well why not.  I was in love with Bob. Yes, even now, after
all he his deceptions, I still loved him. Likewise, Paul was deeply in love
with Candy.  Neither of us could leave them.

	Suddenly, we both burst into floods of tears at our plight and stretched
over to clasp each other in trembling arms.  We stayed bonded together
tightly for three or four minutes at least, our shoulders shuddering at our
grief, our hopelessness. We were like two infants on a capsizing raft,
clinging to each other in panic.

	I held him at arms' length for a minute and kissed the tears from his dark,
satiny cheeks and he smiled ruefully and touched my lips with his
forefinger.  I pressed my lips to his eyes and then laid him back on the
sofa and chastely pressed my lips against his.

	This triggered off a passionate reaction from Paul. He clutched me more
strenuously down to him and parting his lips, drew me into a throbbing,
frenzied, embrace.  Our tongues intertwined.  Saliva mingled with tears.

	He rolled me over so he was on top and with a smile lighting up the
droplets on his long eyelashes, he undid the buttons on my shirt one by one.
  I didn't resist.  I loved the concentration he brought to his task.  He
reached my navel, and drew back my shirt to reveal my naked chest.  His lips
travelled to my nipples and he caressed them gently, circling each one in
turn with the tip of his tongue.  My cock was fully erect by now and he knew
it.

	I twisted him round and climbed on top of his legs, and did the same for
him.  That white shirt!  That dark, smooth flesh underneath!  A feast! I
nuzzled beneath his arm-pits as an animal seeking comfort.  His black, wiry
hairs tickled my face. I loved the darkness of the cove.

	Then I peeped down to see his white knickers pulled tight above his dark
trousers and I repositioned myself to take care of the remainder of his
clothes.  I undid his belt and drew his trousers down to his knees.  I
looked at the white undies barely hiding his long, erect weapon. Whispy
pubic hairs emerged from underneath them.  I covered the area with my mouth
blowing hot, wet breath on it, taking the bulge between my teeth.  He
laughed and let his cock slip out from under his pants.  It was about eight
inches long, uncircumcised and throbbing with anticipation.  I felt it,
admiring its contours, its eastern colour, the cuteness of the dark purple
helmet.  I drew his knickers down and felt the weight of his balls, rolling
them round in my hands.  He looked intently into my face gauging my delight
and responding by feeling the bulge under my pants.

	It didn't take him long to strip me and lay me down on the floor beside me.
  Our faces were dry now.  We lay at leisure, relaxed now, kissing each
other's faces and bodies and feeling every erogoneous zone we could find.

	Then, with greater urgency, I straddled Paul, pressing my knees tight
against his hips and lowering my back so my lips met his and my penis
scraped loosely against his abdomen.  Our eyes glistened messages to each
other as I lunged back and forwards letting the edge of my penis enjoy the
friction against his smooth, finely muscled belly.  He grasped his own cock
and positioned it at the entrance of my wide open bum.  Straddled as I was
over his body, with my muscles tense, I was open to all comers.  And he
skilfully inserted his juicy prick, just a little way .... into my
entrance.....and oh .... fucking hell .... I can remember it as if it were
yesterday .....  he found a spot, a place, a zone, a planet......which when
he rubbed his distended cock against it, just blew me apart.  It was
absolute sensation!!!! It was heart-stopping, earth-juddering, out-of-this
planet sensation.  He had found heaven and it was situated in a place only
he could ever locate.  This place was to be named Paul's place because he
had discovered it!  I was floating above and beyond the universe.

	I just gabbled on and on in my ecstacy, probably talking complete nonsense,
and his face showed first amusement and then wonder and finally satisfaction
and pride at having discovered for me the ultimate in sex.

	And I came gallons, shooting up to his face and chest, and he orgasmed
behind me, hot and creamy up my back, and we hugged each other, our bodies
stained by tears, sweat and spunk.

	Then we cried again in joy and in pain.

	I was in love with Bob, but I was also in love with Paul.  Only Paul would
ever know that  secret where my ultimate seat of pleasure was located.  I
would never explain it to Bob because it defined the love between Paul and
me and would for ever.

	I had learnt that my love was not for one boy only.  I could love two
equally, but in different ways.  I had learnt that I couldn't possibly leave
this house.  I would have to pay the rent.

	*				*				*

Dear Readers, who have stayed with me throughout this novel.  Thank-you for
your loyalty.  I have always appreciated your e-mails.  Please keep sending
them.  krisjon40@hotmail.com
Chapter 9 next:  The Rent is Due.