Date: Mon, 11 Sep 2023 14:38:24 -0700
From: mecocklover@gmail.com
Subject: IF YOU DON'T STOP COMPLIANING...

"IF YOU DON'T STOP COMPLAINING..."


Author's Note: As with "A Hot Tub Story," everything that follows is 100%
true based on my memories.  Nothing has been added, and there is no
hyperbole or exaggeration.  Only the names have been changed to protect a
straight guy who might rather forget that this ever happened.  I did not
forget, though.

Further note: While I only recently discovered nifty.org, the site has been
around and archiving gay stories for more than 30 years.  Running a website
costs money, and nifty.org does not rely on ad revenue.  If you enjoy this
or other stories on this site, please consider making a donation of any
size at https://donate.nifty.org.

****

It was mid-August, 1993, at my college in Northeastern Ohio.  I was 19
years old and had already been there for a solid week as a member of the
marching band to learn music and drills for the half-time show of the home
football games.  It would still be another week before classes started.
That late afternoon had been still, hot, and humid -- the kind of heavy,
oppressive heat where it feels difficult to breathe.  I had just spent the
past three hours in the sun on the practice field playing the same 40 bars
of music over and over while moving in formation with the rest of the band.

I was living in the slightly-off-campus "honors house" owned by the
college. It was an old two-story residential home that had been purchased
by the school at some point and converted into student housing.  Both
floors had been remodeled into eight dorm rooms -- three on the first floor
and five on the second.  There was also a small lobby area with a
television, couch, and chair, though it was not directly adjacent to the
doors used for entry.

As I entered the building, I heard an unfamiliar voice from the lobby,
mildly cursing.  I had lived in the "honors house" the previous year and
would have recognized the voice if it had been any of the returning
students, so I deduced that this must be an incoming Freshman.  Though
tired, sweaty, and undoubtedly reeking from the summer afternoon marching
in the sun, I decided to be friendly.  I detoured from the stairs leading
up to the second floor to say hello.

I rounded the corner to see who was in the lobby.  Sitting on the couch was
a solitary figure staring at the television with a frustrated look on his
face.  He was slightly husky with a fair complexion and sandy blonde hair.
He wore a green button-down shirt with short sleeves and blue shorts.
Freckles dotted his arms, and he was holding the television's remote
control clenched in his right hand, jabbing at it with his left index
finger.

"Problems?" I asked.

The Freshman jumped, obviously startled.  His pale blue eyes scanned
quickly to find the source of the voice before his posture softened.  "This
piece of shit isn't working," he said.  Something about the slightly
hesitant way he said "shit" made me think that he did not swear much, if at
all, and he was using his first day on campus to rebel a little from his
parent's rules.

"It might be the batteries," I replied.  "It's probably the same ones from
last semester."

"Oh," he said blinking.  The look on his face suggested that he had hadn't
considered such a simple possibility.

"You living here?" I asked.

"Yeah.  I moved in today."

"Then tell the RA about the remote when you see him," I instructed, "and he
can get fresh batteries.  If that's not the problem, he'll know what to do
next.  Until then, you'll have to get up and push the buttons on the TV
yourself"

"O.K.," said the blonde sheepishly.  "Do you live here, too?"

"Yeah.  Second floor.  The door right at the top of the stairs."

His eyes lit up a little.  "I'm next door to you."  He stood up.  "Jim.
Jim Ogee."  He paused.  "Like the fabric."

I blinked.  I had no idea what he was talking about.  "Nathan McGee," I
offered.  "Look, I need to get cleaned up a little, then I'm heading to the
cafeteria to get some food."

"Oh," said Jim, slightly confused.  "O.K."

Figuring he was new to the campus, I asked, "Do you know where the
cafeteria is?"

He hesitated slightly before he replied,"I think so."

I didn't believe for an instant that he knew how to get to the cafeteria
from here.  "Have you eaten?" I asked.

"No."

"Give me a couple of minutes, and you can come with me."

His face brightened a bit.  "Yeah.  That sounds good."

Over the next several days, we got to know each other a bit in the late
afternoons after my marching band practice.  Where I had come to the
college from a tiny far-away town in a different region of the country, he
was from an adjacent county.  We both knew a little bit of American Sign
Language, though he knew more than I did.  We shared some interests, but
not a lot, and our birthdays were only a few days apart.  As we were the
only people who had moved into the "honors house" this early due to our
school commitments, we would usually spend time together when we were both
free, becoming friends rather quickly.

I had known I was gay from a very young age.  In Kindergarten, I was firmly
convinced that I was going to marry a boy in my class.  (Spoiler alert: I
did not.)  At one point in middle school, I had spent time every day for
about a month staring into the bathroom mirror, saying to myself out loud
"You're gay.  Now what are you going to do with that?"

I had never had any mutual sexual experience with a man to that point,
either.  Sure, I had sucked a couple of cocks in while I was in high school
(which I really enjoyed), but nothing had ever been reciprocated.  I had
never even kissed a man before, though I had kissed young women a few times
and wondered "what's the point of that?"

I had not yet come out of the proverbial closet to anyone.  I had
considered doing it in my first year of college, but the prevailing
anti-gay sentiment when I arrived made me decide not to do that.  I was
definitely tired of hiding his part of myself from everyone who thought
they knew me, but I had not yet gotten up the courage to actually say the
words to anyone but myself.

Jim was the first person I came out to.  We were in the lobby of the
"honors house," with him sitting on the couch and me on the chair.  Not
knowing how he would react, I couldn't bring myself to actually say it.  I
resorted to Sign Language.  I wasn't even sure he was looking at me when I
did it.  I tapped my chest and then tapped the sign for the letter "g" to
my chin.  "I'm gay."

Jim's head jerked around and looked at me for a moment.  He appeared to be
considering.  He hesitantly raised one hand and tapped his forehead twice.
"I know."  He then placed one hand flat with the palm up in front of him
and touched it at a ninety-degree angle with his other open-palmed hand.
He quickly brought the top hand up in a short movement.  "It's all right."

Our friendship continued.  While he now knew that I was gay, he was
resolutely straight.  He was seeing a girl that had gone to his high school
and was reasonably serious about that relationship.  We didn't really talk
about the fact that I was now a slightly-open homosexual, but it felt like
it would have been O.K. to do so if I had wanted to.  While my sexuality
was acknowledged, we did not discuss it.

After the other students arrived on campus, I'd visit him and his roommate
in their room to hang out, and he would come to mine.  He respected my
privacy and did not reveal my secret to others, but I slowly opened up to a
few other select people -- though not to anyone in the "honors house."  A
few weeks passed.

One evening, he was in my room, complaining about various aspects of his
life, as friends sometimes do to each other.  I offered support,
encouragement, and suggestions for a full hour.  He continued to gripe,
growing slightly agitated, and my patience began to wear thin. I had an
assignment to complete for one of my classes, and I couldn't work on it
with him there on my bed, looking at the ceiling, and talking constantly.

"Jim," I finally said, "you know I'm gay.  If you don't stop complaining,
I'm going come over there and kiss you."  Abruptly, he changed the subject
to something more pleasant.  After a few minutes, he left my room.

I smiled to myself like I had made an important discovery.  It had been a
stone-cold bluff on my end, but I had figured out how to get him out of my
dorm room if I wanted to.  I had no intention of following through with the
threat.  While Jim was pleasant-looking and I generally enjoyed his
company, it would have felt like some kind of violation if I had just
walked across the room and kissed him.

About a week later, he was in my room again.  He was also complaining
again, this time about events when he was in high school.  He was sitting
on the floor, and I was on my bed.  I only gave him about fifteen minutes
this time.  "Jim, if you don't stop complaining about this, I'm going to
kiss you."

He looked up at me with a smirk.  I could see him deciding that I was not
going to do it no matter what I said.  He continued talking about things
done two years ago by people I had never met.  "Jim," I warned, "you know
what's going to happen if you keep this up."

He almost seemed to take this as a dare.  There was more talk about the
same people and the same topic.  I got off the bed and sat next to him on
the floor, my face only a few inches from him.  "Jim," I said one more
time, warningly.

Inwardly, my mind was running wild.  I was not sure I was going to have the
courage to carry out my threat.  If I didn't follow through, though, I
could never use this ploy again. This was my straight friend, but he was
also the one pushing the boundary I had set.  He had to deal with the
consequences, right?  My thoughts circled around the same "do I or don't I"
progression.

Jim looked me square in the eye and started talking about the same people
and events again.  I took a breath, closed my eyes, and moved in.  I
lightly brushed my lips against his, lingering only for a couple of seconds
before I slowly pulled away.  Our lips were slightly dry, and they stuck to
each other ever so slightly as I moved my head back from his.  My top lip
released first, and then the bottom.  "My first kiss!" I exulted
internally.

I opened my eyes and released a shuddering breath.  Whereas my limited
experience of a few kisses with girls had been very "meh," this kiss was
not.  While light, brief, and gentle, it was emotionally intense for me.  I
could feel my blood surging and my heart began to pound a little.  I
suddenly realized what all the fuss was about, and I wanted more.

Jim looked at me for a moment, looking slightly confused.  It looked like
he didn't comprehend what had just happened.  He stuttered for a moment
before continuing this story about people I had never met doing things I
didn't care about.

A favorite saying of my grandmother's -- "In for a penny, in for a pound"
-- flashed through my mind.  I inwardly shrugged, figuring I had already
done this once and he hadn't reacted badly to it.  I had warned him; the
consequences were on his shoulders.  I closed my eyes, leaned in, and
pressed my lips more firmly against his, holding them there.  "This time
I'm going to shut him up," I thought to myself.

His lips stiffened, and then they softened.  After a few seconds, they
parted. I felt the tip of his tongue lightly touching my lips.  "Holy
fuck!" my brain interjected.  "Is this really happening?"

I responded to his tentative probing by opening my own lips slightly, and
his tongue began feeling the inside of my upper lip.  I opened my jaw a
little and extended just the tip of my own tongue, and it was immediately
welcomed by Jim's.  He began exploring my mouth more fully while I remained
hesitant.

I was not thinking clearly or even coherently at this point.  "Holy fuck,"
I repeated to myself over and over, unable to come up with any other way to
express what I was feeling.  "Holy fuck, holy fuck.  Kiss.  Jim.  KISS.
Holy.  Fuck!"

I decided to go for broke.  I reached my hand behind Jim's head and
embraced it, pulling him into me as I opened my mouth more fully and
extended my tongue into his mouth.  He made no attempt to pull back, and he
reached up with both of his own hands to hold my cheeks briefly before
sliding one behind my head and pulling me into an even deeper kiss.

I'm not sure how or when our shirts came off.  We were beginning to sweat
in the late summer heat, and my thin tanned chest slid across his paler and
wider body a we grasped at each other.  We clutched at each other tightly,
running our hands along each other's backs and through each other's hair as
our teen-aged hormones took control of our bodies.

After a several minutes, Jim pulled away.  I moaned slightly to myself.
"He's realized what we're doing," I thought.  "He's going to put on his
shirt, leave, and he's not going to be my friend anymore.  I've fucked this
up."  I had already started to mourn the loss of the tentative bond that we
had until I opened my eyes and looked into his face.

Jim was making no movements to find his shirt or put it back on.  Squinting
slightly, he looked at me with his pale blue eyes, breathing heavily.  He
leaned forward until his forehead was just barely touching mine with our
damp hair plastered against our foreheads.  His eyes stared into mine.  In
a breaking voice, he quietly spoke two words.  "Fuck me."

Had I heard him right?  I was a hopeless virgin, having only just gotten my
first real kiss.  Was Jim actually asking what I thought he was asking?
Maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part and he had said something
else.  I pulled my head back slightly and whispered, "What?"

He took a breath, and seemed to steady himself a little.  In a clearer and
more confident voice, he repeated, "Fuck me."

"Oh, Jesus," I thought.  "This is happening."

Jim removed his remaining clothes, laid on his back on the floor, and
reached for me.  I fumbled with the button and zipper on my jeans,
struggling to open them.  My hormones had my thoughts racing, and I was
having trouble making my fingers work properly.  When I had finally opened
the front, Jim took my hand and pulled me down on top of him.

Somehow, my jeans and boxer shorts also came off.  I don't remember
removing them, nor do I remember Jim doing it for me.  We rolled around on
the floor, bathing each other in our sweat, panting as we kissed each
other's faces and necks.  Our bodies entwined as we slid every part of
ourselves against each other.  Hesitantly, I reached down and felt Jim's
smallish but stiff cock.  Both of us inhaled sharply.  "Are you sure about
this?" I breathed.

He responded nonverbally, pushing me off of him.  Before my mind could
register any disappointment from the sudden loss of physical contact, he
turned around and got on his hands and knees, exposing his meaty and
hairless ass to me.  It was pale as a piece of paper, with a couple of
small blemishes on one side.  Jim took a deep breath, lowered himself to
rest on his elbows, and then he leaned backwards towards me.

In my inexperience, I still couldn't quite believe this was happening.  My
mind still reeled from teen-aged lust and how fast things were progressing.
No one had ever even touched me in a sexual way before that evening, but I
had been rolling around on the floor naked with this young man that I had
met only weeks before.  Hell, I was still excited and thrilled that I had
my first real kiss.

And yet there I was, with my new friend naked and obviously offering
himself to me.  I wasn't sure I knew what to do, much less how to do it.

Jim sensed my hesitation, and he crawled backward until he could feel my
body.  He didn't say a word as he positioned himself so that my cock
between his ass cheeks.  I nervously pushed forward slightly, and my dick
slid up between the cleavage of his crack and pointed up at me.  Jim gave a
slight shudder leaned back, sliding against me.

I closed my eyes and took a breath, trying to steady myself and calm my
thoughts.  I wasn't sure if he was ready for this (or even if I was), but I
was going to try.  The moment just seemed too perfect.  I just hoped that I
did it right, because I didn't know what I was doing.

I put my right hand on the small of Jim's back and backed away slightly,
freeing my cock from his buttcheeks.  I reached up with my left hand and
licked my first two fingers generously.  I reached down, feeling.  The skin
in the cleft of his ass was smooth and hot to the touch.  As my hand curved
underneath him towards his small, tight ballsack, I felt a sudden change in
the texture of his skin, almost a roughness.  Jim backed up against my
fingers, and I realized with a shiver that this must be his asshole.  This
is where he wanted me to go inside him.

As excited as I already was, there were suddenly butterflies in my stomach.
Nervously, I bent my spit-covered middle finger inwards, pushing against
his hole, and it slid in to the first knuckle.  Jim inhaled sharply and
groaned in a low voice.

"Are you all right?" I asked apprehensively.  I hadn't even started
anything, really, and I was sure I had just done something awful.

Jim audibly swallowed.  After a moment, he nodded and began pulling forward
ever so slightly and then pushing back again.  He was using my middle
finger to start to fuck himself.  His insides were so tight and warm that
it felt like they were sucking on my finger.  After a couple of minutes, he
was taking my finger all the way down to where it joined my hand.

Suddenly, Jim tensed his body and pulled forward.  My finger came out of
him, and he rested forward on his elbows, taking quivering breaths.  Before
I could say anything, Jim raised his head.  He did not look back at me.
Looking only straight forward, he repeated in a rough and insisting voice.
"Fuck.  Me."

"OK," I said to myself.  "This is it."  I licked my left hand again to use
it lubricate my cock, and I tasted Jim's ass on my finger.  I almost
buckled from the mix of pleasure and anticipation.  The taste of Jim on my
finger, the smells of our sweat, the sounds of our breathing and groaning,
the sight of Jim's smooth and bare ass, and the touch of his skin against
mine combined together and almost overwhelmed my senses.  Wrapping my wet
hand around my rod, I moved forward to place the head of my cock against
the place where my finger had just been.

Without warning, Jim pushed backwards with some force, and the head of my
dick was suddenly inside him.  Jim gave a short cry and froze.  He quivered
slightly, and his breath came in ragged gasps.  I placed my hands lightly
on each of his hips and pulled him slightly backward.

"Wait" he said.  His voice was unsteady and pitched higher than normal.  It
almost sounded like he was crying.  I would later learn first-hand that the
first moment of insertion can be painful if things aren't well-lubricated
and lined up just right.  At the time, I was completely ignorant of this
fact of life.  Nevertheless, I followed Jim's instruction and just stayed
as still as I could.

After a few more minutes, Jim started to slightly rock back and forth again
again, pushing and pulling against my dick with his hole.  There was no
actual in-and-out movement, as my cock was tightly clenched by his hole.  I
noticed his rhythm, and I tried to match it.  When he rocked forward, I
pulled back a bit.  When he leaned into me, I pushed slightly forward.

I felt something like seal break around my dick, and I suddenly slid in a
little further.  Jim whimpered but did not stop his motions.  He began
moving a little more, slowly going ever-so-slightly further and further
back and forth, sliding more and more easily along my length.

Before I knew it, Jim had pushed back all the way so that his ass pressed
against me as I pushed forward, and we held ourselves there for a moment.
Jim remained on his elbows and knees, gasping for air, and I held him from
behind with my hips pushed forward and my hands gripping him around the
waist.

We had been lubricated by nothing more than my spit and our sweat, and my
young cock was now as fully inside him as I could get.  The overwhelming
pleasure from having pushed into him all the way -- and then holding still
-- cannot be easily described.  The heat of his insides and the almost
too-tight grip that he had around me was very nearly too much for my
19-year-old mind to comprehend.  My cock was being squeezed tighter by his
ass than I had ever dared do with my hand when jerking myself off.

I leaned forward slightly, curving my back while keeping my hips in place.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" I whispered.  I knew that we had gone
far down this road, but I didn't want to lose Jim's friendship.  If he had
reservations or wanted to stop, I would have done so and jerked myself off
after he left the room.  I didn't know what he was feeling physically or
emotionally.  I just had no frame of reference for his experience.

Jim half-grunted and half-moaned in acquiescence and began grinding his ass
against me slightly.  I straightened back up, gripped his hips more firmly,
and began to slowly draw myself out.  I could feel the grip of his hole
sliding towards my dickhead.  Then I pushed forward again with just a bit
more speed than I had drawn back, and Jim released another high-pitched
whimper.  I pulled pack and pushed forward again a little more firmly, and
Jim's breaths started coming in short gasps.  He lowered his head to lay it
between his arms, turning it to one side.

"Fuck me," Jim had said.  I was doing just that.  Nothing more, and nothing
less.  My brain and body felt like they could explode at any instant.

I looked down my hairless torso and could see myself disappearing into Jim.
The sight was enough to make my load start to churn I my balls.  "Oh, Jim,"
I murmured, "I wish you could see this!"  Seeing my cock half-buried inside
him was the hottest thing I had ever seen in my young life.  He did not
answer me, but he began pushing back against me again as I started to
thrust with more vigor.

I did not last long at all, since this was my first time with another man.
Within a few short minutes, I was overwhelmed, and my cock exploded inside
him, flooding Jim with my cum.  My sense of time slowed, and it seemed to
me that I continued shooting almost for as much time as I had been inside
Jim.  Spasm after spasm shook me violently.  I had never felt anything like
this.  Light-headed and dizzy from the sensations, I collapsed against
Jim's back unable to speak, pulling out as the last of my seed dribbled
from the head of my cock.

Once Jim felt my cock leave him, he rolled over onto his back.  I clumsily
fell to the side, and he roughly grabbed my head and pulled it onto his
chest, pinning me there.  With his other hand he reached for his own short
but swollen cock.  He gave five quick pulls, and then he was splashing my
face as he released his own need.  The smell of his musk filled my nostrils
while he held me tight, both of us breathless and only able to make
inarticulate guttural sounds when we tried to speak.

I would like to say that this was the beginning of a long or intense
relationship, but that would be a lie.  While we fooled around and I fucked
him a few more times, our personalities did not mesh well enough to form a
strong or lasting emotional bond in the end.  After a few more weeks, he
made it clear in no uncertain terms that he considered our friendship (and
everything else) over.

I was disappointed, to say the least.  After a few days, I realized that I
couldn't force him like me if he had decided that he didn't.  He had his
life, and I had mine.  I still saw him regularly since we roomed next door
to each other, but neither of us reached out to interact in anything but a
superficial way.  While I regret what happened to our budding friendship, I
have never regretted what we did together that night in my room.