Date: Mon, 5 Feb 2001 23:47:57 -0500 From: ultf113 Subject: Turning Wheels Turning Wheels By The Ultimate Femme Not Copyrighted "I'll see you guys in class, just gotta check my mail," I said, getting up from the cafeteria table. The morning sun made thick beams through the high dining hall windows. I carried the tray through the maze of busy tables. A handsome young guy made eye contact with a subtle, knowing grin. I had noticed him last semester, struck by how good looking he was. I didn't know his name, and had no reason to talk to him, so I briefly smiled back and kept walking the tray to the kitchen's humming conveyor belt. I wondered why he always seemed to be looking my way. Sometimes I caught myself glancing around for him as I ate with the guys from my floor. I had never noticed anyone quite like him. Unlike the rest of us, he maintained a beautifully groomed appearance. His dark red hair was buzzed and trimmed so precisely on the sides and back, and he must have used gel to make it a little spiky on top. His clean, bright clothes (when I noticed them) flattered his slender figure, and he never went with the Trend That Would Not Die, the baggy look. He seemed to give off a delicate elegance, an effect enhanced by the graceful way he moved. Looking back, it's strange to think I could ever let another guy make an impression that way. At the time, I didn't think about it. I just thought he was more handsome than the norm, which wasn't hard given my generation's prevailing slobbishness. I thought everybody noticed him too. I left the echoing talk of the cafeteria and clicked down the large white hall toward the wall of mailboxes. I reached in the front pocket of my faded jeans and got my keychain. Finding box 323, I slid the little key in and opened the square door. There was a phone bill, a pizza flyer, and a plain DVD case with "323" and a little smile face written on a post-it note. Hmmm. I opened the case and saw the DVD was decorated with a slanted drawing of an in-line skate. I put the mail in my backpack, went out in the chilly air, and walked across campus to class. I sat with the guys in the Trigonometry lecture hall, and forgot about the mail. The professor went through his boring topic of the day, and we took a multiple choice test. My college was a bit of a joke. Everything academic was a breeze for me, since I had made A's and B's in high school with minimum effort. It was the social environment that I was having trouble with. Transitioning from a monk-like lifestyle as a shy, sober teen to the sensory assault of alcohol, drugs, sexual desperation, and loud music favored by the other "students" was too much. I'm not against having fun, but it was annoying to put up with drunken yelling 'til 3 A.M. from Thursday to Sunday. Since my next class was a few hours away, I hit the library to finish the assigned Trig problems. I got out my laptop to check email when I was done. No messages. Just as I started to fold down the screen, I remembered the DVD. The screen went black and the little green drive light came on. I wore my headphones, then plugged in. The movie showed people roller skating by the beach in Southern California. The pulsing, semi-tribal music matched the slow-motion tricks on screen. Everyone looked good, and the girls wore tight, shiny leotards in a multitude of dazzling patterns. I didn't want to draw a crowd, so I moved from the big study table to a more private carrel desk. There was an amazing tracking shot of five girls in a line holding on to each other's hips, their legs synchronized. Suddenly they were leaping over a concrete bench and letting go in mid-air. The leaders smiled and looked back as the scene dissolved into sparkling waves. Then He appeared. He was the best trick skater I'd ever seen. He flew and did spins off the crude ramps set up by the others. Instead of the common expression of serious concern, his face showed concentrated enjoyment. He was a master, and the camera stayed with him for a good ten minutes. I was hypnotized, especially by what he was wearing. He had big black skates with red wheels. He had a black skater's helmet. He had cool glossy black knee, elbow, and wrist guards. And... And... A red Speedo swimsuit. That was all! His mature, strong body, so tan and sculpted, was absolutely incredible. The slow motion camera did multiple close up studies of his waist and torso during mid-air spins. He was manly in a way none of us freshmen would be for ten years. His moves were amazing, especially the effortless way he was able to land on his toe wheel and slip back into ground gliding. This movie (it wasn't shot on video) was excellent. The skaters danced and flew through the lovely seaside park, delighting the onlookers. I loved seeing the little skate wheels keep spinning in slow motion as the skaters soared past. The sharply recorded electronica soundtrack was perfect. I had to hurry to my next class when the 47 minute DVD ended. Part II After dinner that night, I watched the DVD again. This was my first exposure to homoerotic images, but I was too dense to realize it. All I knew was how much I loved the show, and kept replaying the "Dave Wrightson" chapter to behold his awesome moves. His body was just right, big enough to look like a superhero, but not grotesquely overmuscled. His Speedo didn't have the tell-tale pointy bulge of small- dicked bodybuilders. It was cool how his arm and leg muscles flexed and firmed back to shape when he landed. I convinced myself I was just enjoying the skater's skill, but my eyes kept locking on his magnificent body. I had never had the opportunity to really *look* at a nearly-nude guy before, and my mind drank his undeniable beauty in. I put the DVD away and went down the hall to brush my teeth. Nobody on the floor asked me about the DVD, so the donor was a mystery. I went back to my single-bed dorm room thinking who it could have been. I liked the little smile face on the label. I put the case on the shelf and went to bed to read through the political science assignment. I took off my clothes and crawled into the soft warm blankets of my bed. After ten minutes in the dark, I couldn't fall asleep. I turned on the lamp and naturally began my masturbation routine. I liked my body. It was in good shape, but I wasn't obsessed with exercise. With my youthful metabolism, long campus walks, and occasional in-line skating, I just looked lean and natural, and didn't have to think about it. Some of my best orgasms back home had come when I was jacking off and looking at myself in my older sister's tilting full length oval mirror. I had even known some extra special pleasures when I positioned another mirror so I could watch my ass clench and unclench. I would never tell anybody about it, but assumed most guys did it too, since guy's and girl's asses are kind of the same. Looking at your own ass is close to looking at a girl's, and it was fun to pretend. My right hand moved along my cock, stretching my foreskin back and pulling it smoothly forward into a momentary hood. My hot, hard dick felt great in my hand as I got into a thrusting, rolling motion. I looked at the swimsuit model poster on the door. I focused on her beautiful face and long, tightly curled blonde hair. My eyes would flash down to her red bikini bottom. As I began to come, my mind flashed briefly to Dave Wrightson's perfect red Speedo. I breathed harder and reached for my come-catching light blue washcloth. As my orgasm built, I reasserted mental control and refocused on the girl in the poster. I came mechanically, with no emotional satisfaction. I denied the embarrassing thought about Dave, and told myself it didn't mean anything. As I turned off the lamp, I glanced back at the poster. She didn't seem as beautiful as I used to think. Part III The next morning was normal. I had breakfast, went to class, blah blah blah. The world was normal, but I felt weird. I had just seen the most beautiful human being doing the most graceful moves on that DVD yesterday, but had spoiled it with a half second of masturbatory thought. I didn't even want to think of what it meant. There was no way I could be a fag. No way. I got into a sick cycle of denial, thought suppression, and mental conflict. By day, I threw myself fully into coursework. By night, I had dreams. Vivid dreams of the red Speedo skater. I could skate behind him and feel the need to touch his waist. I had wet dream after wet dream about him, coming uncontrollably as I touched his firm, strong body gliding through the sunlight and palm tree shadows. I even dreamed of him stripping off his skating gear and showering naked. Why the hell was this happening? The more I pushed these unwanted thoughts down, the more they tried to surface. I was so damn aware of what was happening, but had no clue how to get out of it. These thoughts and feelings seemed totally new. A few weeks ago, I thought I was normal, and sex would happen when I grew up and fell in love with the right girl. Now, the thought of being together with the *maleness* of another fueled my sick but fascinating desires. I was messed up! I was tense one night at bedtime. I decided to force myself to masturbate and think about girls, just to "prove" I was straight. I started in, having difficulty getting anything going. I enjoyed masturbation, and it had always been a simple, solo pleasure. To tell the truth, I had stopped thinking about girls after the first two weeks since my magic discovery at age 13. It was obvious girls didn't go around looking for sex, the most wonderful feeling I had ever known, so they were kind of a turn off. There were so many steps involved in the effort to impress them, and it didn't seem worth it to me. I gave up early and decided to let them make the first move, since I didn't have any chick-acquiring skills. Masturbating wasn't working. I was empty, and it didn't feel good to do this with no satisfaction. I thought, if I can't prove I'm straight, at least I can prove I'm not gay. Just the word made my prick harden. I made up the most outlandish gay fantasy I could think of. I would get up one day in the dorm cafeteria, go right over to that guy with the dark red spiky hair, and kiss him. Then we would hug and go upstairs to my room. We would be all horny as we stripped each other awkwardly through our kisses and hot embraces.... I would run my fingers through his velvety buzzed hair and hold him so tight... The fantasy was coming so easily. My penis felt more alive and full of energy than I ever thought it could be. I was jacking off in a trance of hot, exhaustingly vigorous yet effortless motion. My old identity dissolved in the exquisitely perfect pleasure of being gay. I thought of him holding me naked, his hands moving down to my ass. This image drove me over the edge, and I came, strongly shooting four more spurts at the end than usual. I can't just say "I had an orgasm". I had a shuddering, bursting tidal wave of totally released ecstasy and absolute satisfaction. I was glowing. The tip of my penis was stinging, which hadn't happened for years. If this was being gay, it was nothing to run away from. Totally drained of energy and tension, I fell into a deep, deeply relaxing night of peaceful sleep. The next morning, the conflict returned. In this culture, it just wasn't sane to choose a gay life. The other guys would kill me. My parents would never understand. I could never live in my hometown or go to a high school reunion. I recoiled from thinking about gay stereotypes. This sucked! I took a deep breath and prepared for morning breakfast with the guys. I *had* to eat with them, even though I was getting tired of their crude sex talk and detailed conversations about car engine modifications. I jacked off in the shower to my gay fantasy, and it was incredibly good. It was also a relief to *use* the forbidden energy instead of unhealthily clamping it down inside. The cute guy was there in the cafeteria. He was sitting with a group of girls and guys from his floor, and seemed to be inviting me over with his friendly glances. I didn't respond. I was too confused about my queer situation. I knew I was queer, too. Straight guys just *were* that way, and didn't have to prove it too themselves. I was different. Being gay (I still wasn't used to using the word) was one thing, but being gay in this world was about the worst thing that could happen. I played it safe and tried to hide it. Part IV Three weeks had gone by since I beheld the red Speedo movie on my laptop. When I walked by the table of my fantasy guy one morning after breakfast, he reached out and gently grabbed my wrist. "Did you like the skating DVD I gave you?", he asked. "Yeah. It was amazing", I said. He smiled and said, "I noticed you skated some mornings, so I thought you might like it. For some reason I noticed your box number one day when you got your mail, so..." "Thanks. Do you want it back?", I asked. "No, it's a copy from my computer, you can keep it. By the way, I'm Matt. Good to meet you." "I'm Alden. Thanks for the movie." "Alden, eh? I didn't want to sign the DVD, in case you thought I was weird or something", he said, getting a smile and touching the top of my hand briefly. He scratched his ear and said, "Do you want to go skating some time? I know the best place." "Sure. How about tomorrow?" "Yeah, it's best in the morning before the crowds. Meet you in the south library plaza...around 6:30?" "Sounds good, I'll be there Matt." "All right. See ya.", he said. We smiled and I dropped off my tray on the black conveyor to the dishwashing area. It was nice to have a date...A date? Guys don't date guys. The Rules of society were permanently branded on my mind... It was annoying. But I thought nothing weird could happen if we were just skating around. The school day came and went. To be honest, it was exciting to move around the familiar college with my wonderful secret. Being inwardly gay meant I could enjoy myself with no hostility from mean jerks looking for weakness. As the hours passed, I felt better and better about myself. Knowing how satisfying masturbation could be was reassuring. Things weren't as bad as I thought. Part V All the inner strife about my self discovery distracted me from the mystery of the mailbox DVD. Now that I knew it was Matt, it was cool. The way he touched my hand and smiled was smooth, and even... affectionate. God, if he was gay too, it would be so great. I wondered if he liked the Dave Wrightson chapter as much as I did. My wet dreams had stopped last week and I had openly fantasized about being with him that night, peeling down those Speedos as I watched the DVD again. Men are usually portrayed in narrow ways in American culture. They're confined to suit-wearing bullies or hard-hat wearing loudmouths in most shows. You almost never saw male ballet dancers on network TV. Any sign of grace was discouraged for us, and the acceptance of gay characters was often an excuse to make degradingly simplistic jokes in prime time. But Dave Wrightson's incredible body moving smoothly through space was an awesome combination of athleticism and art. The film makers' use of close ups and dissolves was breathaking. The man could fly, and seeing him in slow motion, in the golden morning light, was better than watching him in person at normal speed. Playing back the closeups of his turning waist in super slow motion was perfect for jacking off too! My gay feelings were taking over, now that I knew how good they could be. My gay feelings. It had a nice ring. I woke early and had some Honey Nut Cheerios for breakfast. Since I knew skating would make me sweaty, I didn't bother showering. I grabbed my skate gear and went down the concrete stairwell and out into the purple dawn. Birds sang in the still air. The morning star shined through the cold, silvery clouds. As I walked toward the library, I felt nervous. How would this thing go? Did Matt see something in me that gave my true nature away? Was my gayness just a fantasy, or would I freak out if it became real? How would I handle myself if anything happened? I was so unsure about the paths before me. I almost wanted Matt to greet me with a hug just so we could be sure about each other. I arrived first, at 6:20. I took off my boots and put them under the bench, then put on my skates and pads. It was early spring, and about 40 degrees F, so I was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve T shirt. Matt sure was right about the south plaza. The white concrete was new and vast, with some areas of benches and plants. A huge blue metal sculpture of twisting ribbons stood near the center. I stood up and rolled out. My wheels made no noise on the smooth surface. Pushing off was a breeze. Crows flew under the setting moon as the eastern sky turned pink. I saw a figure approach, carrying things in both hands. It felt great to make a long circular turn toward him. When I saw it was Matt, I waved. He waved back and went to my bench. I skated fast across the plaza, and circled to a stop under the sculpture. Matt came skating over with a smile. He was wearing (I couldn't believe it), a dark blue cycling leotard. That was kind of a signal, I guess...! His slim body looked wonderful as he moved near. "Hey, man", I said in a friendly voice. "Glad you made it", he replied. I was noticing how gentle his voice was. I liked it. "Let's go around a few times", I said. "Okay." We skated silently to the edge of the square, then took off in counterclockwise laps. I tried to judge how near we should skate. This was such a bizarre, uncertain situation! On the first turn, he poured on the speed. I chased. Compared to the rough asphalt of my hometown, this was hyperspace. Matt looked back with a smile as I caught up. He peeled away before the second turn and pushed toward the sculpture. I kept cruising on the plaza's edge. Since there was no one else around, I went all out for speed. Even with cleaned, freshly greased bearings and new wheels, I had never gone this fast. It was tiring, so I put my right skate in front and rolled for a while. The contractors must have been extremely careful to make the plaza level, because it took a long, long time to slow down. This place would be my skating destination from now on. God, Matt was beautiful in the misty orange light. I turned toward him and approached the sculpture where he was resting. I didn't care about what might happen. I had to know. I had to make a move. I zig zagged to slow down, then pointed my toes together like a skier to stop. Silently, we stood face to face. The wind strengthened as I lifted my hands to his hips. He smiled. The sun began shining on us. Matt slid his hands around my waist and we rolled together to hug. "I found you", he whispered. Tiny raindrops began to drizzle down gently. With every heartbeat, my erection grew. In his arms, I felt completely at home. He kissed me on the cheek. My hands reached down his beltless lycra outfit to feel the roundness of his ass. He was so warm and gentle! "I've never felt this way for anyone", I told him, our faces inches apart. "From the first day I saw you, I knew you could be the one", he said. We tilted our heads to get our helmets out of the way then leaned in for a soft, tender kiss. I felt little fireworks exploding in my chest. We parted and let the real world come back. The drizzle and wet concrete were turned to living gold by the rising sun. I saw every droplet on his helmet and shoulders. "Come on, let's go to my place", he said. Of course I agreed. We skated to the bench to change out of our equipment. "I can't believe I moved first", I said. "Baby, I've been setting you up for weeks," he told me with a grin, "and thinking about you for months." "How did you know about me?" "I didn't. But you were giving certain signs--the way you walked, the way you didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the guys." I swallowed, finally making sense of my pre-gay life. On the first day of high school, I didn't understand why five seniors kept laughing and calling me "faggot" when I walked through the courtyard. Or the two occasions when teenage car users yelled anti-gay slurs when I crossed the street. Matt was right, I never did feel comfortable with the straight world. Matt put on a pair of track pants so he wouldn't have to walk around in just the leotard. "You have a lot of guts to wear that thing", I said quietly as we began walking. "At 6:30 in the morning maybe", he grinned. "My dorm is in the north wing, fifth floor. We can talk. When's your next class?" "12:45." "Great." We looked into each other's eyes as we walked, and laughed at our shyness. I was tingling with anticipation, and felt completely natural. The term "gay" slipped to the background. Just being with him and knowing he understood was wonderful. Part VI A black-haired girl smiled at Matt as we proceeded down the hall to his room. "Hey Brittany", he said casually. "Hey Matt", she replied. It was obvious she knew Matt was gay. He unlocked door 518 and gently guided me in. He closed the door and the new lock hardware made a smooth low click. "Hi", he said. "Hi to you", I said. Now what? There was a silent moment, then he said, "Let's shower." Good idea. We needed it. We were close to the same size, so he picked out the day's clothes for both of us. We took off our shoes and carried the clothes and towels down to the men's bathroom. Conveniently, it was empty. I was rock hard. He took my shirt off. I sat on the bench and removed my socks, then pulled down my sweats and underwear. The fabrics and our footsteps echoed in the huge bathroom. Naked, I approached Matt. I reached around his neck to unzip the leotard. I pulled it down sloooowly. Then I eased it down and off his shoulders. His eyes closed as he savored the moment. I kneeled down and pulled the stretchy garment off his waist. I was face to face with his lovely 6 inch dick. He had no pubic hair. Beautiful. He stepped out of the leotard legs naked and free. We walked hand in hand through the tiled, brightly lit space between the changing benches and shower stalls. Matt drew the aqua green plastic curtain and we entered a stall. I turned the faucet handle to 12 o'clock and the shower head blasted us with water and sound. We were the first ones up, so there was plenty of hot water. Our dicks touched as I hugged him. This was unbelievable. This was heaven. Matt pumped the soap dispenser and used handfulls of pink liquid soap to lather me up. The soap's flowery fragrance was wonderful--We had the same kind on my floor and I had never noticed it before. He shampooed my head with it. I rinsed my face and toweled my eyes. Exploring a youthful man's body with slippery pink soap is an experience I cannot recommend highly enough. Matt had shaved all his body parts normally covered by shorts and T-shirts. The rest was clipped to about 1/4 inch. Here I was with no real sexual experience, falling in love with a guy who daringly shaved off his own pubic hair. The lather flowed so beautifully down his belly to his smooth, pink balls. I found his shaved armpits fascinating. Matt was perfect to me. I held him from behind and reached down to his hairless cock. I grabbed and slowly pumped his lathery penis. Matt's neck tightened and he took a sudden breath. My own penis was pressed between my stomach and his slippery crack. After five or six pumps, Matt moved his hand down to guide me away. "Not now", he said. "Not now." Matt swallowed and breathed. We were together. That was all that mattered. I smiled and pulled away so the shower could rinse his back and my chest. The hot water splashed and poured down our athletic bodies. When we were all rinsed, he kissed and held me, pressing my back against the smooth, warmed tile wall. He turned the handle off and our bodies dripped in the silent shower room. His lips were so soft on mine. Mmmmm. Matt pushed the curtain back. He turned to walk toward the bench, and I followed with my hands on his gorgeous shoulders. I felt like I was about to come. My heart was beating fast. We used the soft grey towels to dry off. We dressed quickly. Since I had no comb, he took care of my hair. I loved looking at him with his wet hair pressed to his head. Then he combed himself. We picked up our stuff and got out of there. "Hey Brittany", Matt said before we got in the hall. Brittany was really smiling at us as Matt opened the bathroom door. I said hello and she returned a cute "Hi". Another ally in a strange world. When we got back to Matt's room, my cock had softened. Our incredible moment had cooled down. "Alden... I want to take this slow." "Matt--" "I know I know. There's no way to reason with horniness! But trust me, it's better to move cautiously at first." "Matt, I didn't even know I was gay until a few weeks ago. I can't even believe how aggressive I've been with you today. I am so new at this..." "Believe me, I know how it is. I 'became gay' when I was 16, and it was a real strange situation." "How did you...know?", I asked. He turned to sit on the bed and I took his study chair. "This is what I'm talking about. We should talk about ourselves and know each other more before we leap into complete sex... Well, for me, I knew I was different from everyone else somehow. I was a loner who didn't fit in any group, and didn't want to. The last thing I ever thought about was homosexuality. The concept repelled me." "All I knew about it came from stereotypes and name calling. I had no idea my personality difference could involve gayness down the road. I had a pretty late puberty, so I saw clearly how my schoolmates turned from clear headed children to single-minded girl-seeking machines. I clearly saw the breakups and rejections too. The whole game made no sense to me. Then I discovered masturbation one day." "At 12 I was in little league. I had to wear a cup and jockstrap. When I put it on the first time, I did it naked in my bedroom. I had had erections before, but this one was really strong. All I knew was how powerful it felt and how I liked posing in the mirror." I continued to listen as he poured out his heart; "For the next three years, I would wear different things, one at a time, just to recapture that cool feeling of erection energy. I would never touch myself, since I had no idea about how sex worked apart from the ugly cross-section diagrams they showed us in school." "I was 15. Alone in the house on a bright summer day. My child's body had grown tall, and I knew full puberty was at hand. But sex was still a complete mystery. None of the health class textbooks talked about orgasms. I enjoyed walking around the house naked whenever possible, and I felt drawn to my sister's room. She was away in college." "I had never worn women's clothes before. But I had an idea they might be good like the jockstrap. I looked through the drawers, and found her stash of lingerie. The powdery scent was amazing. The air stood still. I slowly reached in and picked up one of her white jogging bras. The fabric was so slippery... I had never known there could be such cloth." "I slipped it on, enjoying the deliciously silky sensations on my arms and finally on my chest and shoulders. Of course my dick was hard as I stood up to see my reflection. At that age, I had bangs in front. The effect was incredible. I had stepped out of the world of boyhood. I wasn't completely gone, but knew I had to go further." Matt breathed and closed his eyes as he relived private memories. "I tried on a pair of simple white panties. My God! They stretched and formed themselves perfectly to me. Maybe you had to be a boy, living exclusively in heavy, rough boy clothes to appreciate the wonderfulness of this new world of absolute comfort. My panties matched every move, and they made my buns look sooo good." "My penis was larger and harder than I had ever thought possible. I didn't know what to do next, but I discovered how fantastic it felt to stroke my shaft through the panties. I pulled them down and looked at my first 'adult' erection. It was so red, almost purple. It must have grown an inch in the last few months. Hard as a rock. I held it in my hand and felt little shockwaves of tingling." "My jaw trembled as I squeezed tighter. In the mirror, it was so strange and perfect to see a girl with a dick. I had been called 'fairy' and 'faggot' before because of my girlish face. This was the first time I was happy to look the way I did." "Very naturally, I began masturbating. The sight of those bra straps made me so hot. I pumped my cock faster and faster, and the brand new sensation of orgasm began. I thought I was dying. Starting inside my ass, my body felt like it was dissolving into gold light. Smoothly, the light filled me from head to toe. I had to gasp for oxygen, and my cock was shooting jet after high pressure jet of stinging white gooey liquid." Here I was, listening to Matt relate his story. I was fascinated and very turned on thinking about him. His soft voice was hypnotic. "This was a new world. My legs were shaking and I had to kneel down to recover. My come was all over my sister's dresser. I glanced at the clock and knew my parents would be coming home in half an hour. I slipped off the bra and panties and put them back in the drawer. My dick kept dripping, and the tip felt so sore and sensitive. I took some tissues to dry off, but winced in pain at the first touch." "I got back into my old clothes, then hurried and cleaned up the place with Windex and paper towels. Just as I flushed the towels and Kleenex, I heard car doors slamming in the driveway. I had just experienced the greatest thing possible, and had no time process and reflect." "I became a complete transvestite over the following months. The thought of magically becoming a beautiful girl was extremely powerful. I played with makeup. I wore pantyhose. I tried on almost everything my sister had. The variety and lightness of her stuff were so much more fun than the plain boring stuff I had." "I really loved that new world of perfume and beauty. In my sex fantasies, I always took the female role. It didn't seem right. My whole life was divided into the normal, tense life of a human being, not really a boy anymore, dealing with the crude world, and the secret realm of my natural heart. My gay heart." "At school, I only noticed the other boys. That 4 to 5 percent of the class that were 'different' like me. In time the clothes lost their power from overuse, and I just had to think about certain other guys to ascend to bliss. I pictured myself in equal relationships, just enjoying playful times of closeness. It would be so perfect. I knew I was gay. I was gay." I got up from the chair and sat next to him on the bed. I hugged him. "It's okay." We hugged. I kissed the closely buzzed hair behind his ear, and worked my way slowly forward to his lips. "I have no problem", I said. "I love you, Alden." Part VII We kissed and promised to meet in the dorm's lobby after that day's classes. We had dinner together, and I didn't bother telling the other guys why I wasn't going with them. That night, in his room, I told him my story of the past three weeks. I concluded that I had to be gay all along, but chose, out of fear, to live in the no-man's land of denial and zero energy straightness. I was so glad he noticed me and triggered the cascade of truth inside. Matt showed me the nifty.org archive of gay sex stories. I read about every possible activity, and was blown away. It was so nice to know I wasn't the only one with these desires. It was also a little scary to discover how wild things could get. With this foundation of knowledge, we moved our innocent "dating" relationship into new levels. We were so happy to be together. Our souls merged as we learned how to make love. A man's sexuality is simple and basic, but our intimate communication and true affection led us into a world of hot satisfaction. I loved fucking him, letting him ride me as I lied on the bed and thrusted up inside. He taught me the art of bump-free pubic shaving, and our clean bodies looked nearly identical as we admired our reflections. Matt groomed me, artfully clipping my body and head hair down to soft shortness. Not wanting us to look like bad twins, he didn't buzz my head so much that my skin showed through. I loved the fuzzy feeling as he petted the back of my head. Our love became simple as we became one. After graduation, we "honeymooned" on the California coast. As we strolled to greet the sunrise, we found the gorgeous Dave Wrightson still attracted crowds. Authors Note: I wrote this piece to explore my favorite gay story situation: A "normal" guy discovering his true sexuality and tensely carrying around the knowledge. I hope it is empowering to identify with all the complex feelings I and other authors have written about. I was so lost and alone during my college years, so it is fun to daydream about the different ways things could have turned out. It's nice to know, really know, that being gay is not a curse or dead end. It's a blessing, born of an open mind's simple, complete perception of male beauty.