This is a fictional event based on my life experiences, my friends' life experiences, my lover's life experiences, and just things that pop into my head. I assure you, this isn't real. While this is being posted in an erotic story collection, it is not truly an erotic story. It is the story of life and love, and sex. If you want something deeper than "we met and fucked," then this is for you. It is up to you. While I am not one to censor my readers, it is policy for you to be 18 to read such material. Choose your own path - I really don't think that there is anything offensive about being sexually active, but I'm not a sexually-deprived Christian Coalition member. Just remember to enjoy yourself and to be safe. Please send any comments you may have to

Love Is Blind


Copyright 1999, 2000 by DMR


Part I.

I woke up in a cold sweat. I ran my hand down my chest and panted for breath. I looked to my left and saw that my bed was empty - save for my cat. He quietly meowed and looked up at me with loving eyes. Ah, my one true friend, always there by my side when I needed someone to hold.

I lightly stroked his fur as I looked over at my alarm clock. 5:24 am. God, how revolting. Waking up before the crack of noon is not a task that I enjoy. I stretched my arms and yawned silently as I was thinking of what today would bring. This was the day that my parents were shipping me out to an all-boys' academy. They seemed to have this idea that the Academy would cure me of my problems. I didn't think that I had any, but my parents disagreed.

I bent down to kiss my kitty gently on his head and then lay down to go back to sleep. Before I knew it, I was in a new land. Free from my bastard father. Free from my weak little mother. Away from the quaint ideas of their Baptist upbringing. I was floating in the air, free as a bird. My arms were outstretched as the wind tossed through my dark-brown hair. I occasionally had to close my eyes so they wouldn't be burned by the wind's incessant beating. I looked below me and saw a mountain as brown as the purest earth, and below that, a valley as green as a farmer's wildest fantasy.

I swooped down to this land. I wanted to be here. This is where I belong. As I swooped down, I saw a beautiful hand reaching out to me. It wanted me. I was not an outcast; I was one with this hand. I reached out, like God to Adam in the Sistine Chapel, and as our fingers met - Fire trucks whooshed by. I shook my head as my weary eyes opened and looked at my alarm. Damn. I had set my clock to awake me with the sound of the French police instead of the radio starting. Oh well. I stretched and turned off the alarm. My kitty was still by my side. I doubt he'd moved the entire night.

I stretched my legs and let out an audible yawn and my feet made contact with the ground. I stood up, my six-foot-three-inch frame still asleep. I clumsily walked over to the mirror and looked at myself. I winced. I hated looking at myself. I have always thought of myself as unattractive, and the morning cowlick did no good. I shook my head and grabbed a comb, trying to do something with my tufts of unruly hair.

After I had made some semblance of sanity with my hair, I decided to hit the shower. Today would be the day my life would change forever. I might as well face it with dignity. I put my comb back on my dresser and slowly walked to the bathroom.

I closed and locked the door behind me. Of course, before me was another mirror. Lovely. I shook my head and looked down at my boxers, my only article of clothing. I hooked my thumbs inside of them, parallel to my hips, and in one gracious moment slipped the boxers to my ankles. I noticed that beneath my thick, black pubic bush, I was becoming aroused. I don't know why. There certainly wasn't anything to be aroused about while alone in a bathroom. I laughed silently to myself and started the water for my shower.

The water was very cold at first, so I sat adjacent to the tub, waiting for the water to heat. As I lay there, I again saw the vision from my dream. My hand reached forward to become One with his, and as we touched, he pulled me to the ground. His fair hair danced in the wind. I wanted to look at his face, but it seemed almost as if it wasn't - God, that water was burning my hand. I pulled it away quickly and cooled the water, along with my hand. When the water was a humane temperature again, I started my shower.

I turned around as I stepped into the shower, and wet my hair. Droplets of water dripped onto my chest, causing my nipples to become erect. I looked down and noticed that my penis was yet again erect. As it was noted later to me, my chest was like a face, in a sick sort of way. My nickel size red nipples constituted the eyes. The hair that started between and around the nipples went down my chest and spread out, so that it made the illusion of a nose. And my "innie" belly button made the supposed mouth.

I looked at my raging erection and supposed that I should take care of it, lest it should cause me more grief as I was on my way to the Academy. I grabbed my prick and squeezed it gently while rubbing it up and down. I moaned softly to myself. With my other hand, I cupped my above-average size testicles and rubbed them. Then I began to viciously stroke my hard cock up and down while my other hand squeezed my nipples and rubbed my chest. I was breathing heavily at this point while the water splattered against my back. One of my greatest fantasies was being in the shower with a man I love dearly. I closed my eyes and pictured my fair-headed apparition as my hand squeezed my throbbing eight inch penis and stroked it faster and faster.

My goal was not to have a long masturbation session, but a quick one so I could finish what I needed to do. I imagined my fair-headed vision looking at me and kissing me lovingly on the lips, and then turning around to get on all fours. I imagined myself looking confused at him, and then grasping his plan as I grabbed his smooth ass and ran my hand over it. Then I spread him and slowly pressed myself into him - I moaned loudly as I ejaculated into the shower water, and down the drain. I kept jerking my penis as I ejaculated at least five spurts into the water. As I was panting and regaining consciousness, there was a loud knock on the door. "God damn it boy, we all gots to shower! Hurry your sorry queer ass up!" Soon after that, I heard the sound of feet stomping away. I smirked to myself thinking, my, how I love this family.

I soon finished my shower and dressed myself. I hauled out my suitcase as I prepared for the first real move in my life. Goodbye, friends. GOODBYE PARENTS!

Part II.

I groaned as I loaded the final suitcase into the back of the van. Now I know why moving men must hate their jobs. God, all that crap was heavy and clumsy. I slammed down the back door to the van and walked to the sliding door on the side. I opened it and felt the cool air-conditioning hit my sweat-plagued face. I let out a quiet sigh and was met with my father's gracious voice. "Get the hell in here, queer ass. You're wasting my gas and my freon!" I jumped into the van and shut the door.

Quietly, the van backed out of the driveway. I could feel it shift into drive and then gradually gain speed as it made its way onto the highway. I glanced at the van's clock. 11:53 am. Enough time to get me there by two and send me to the "counselor." I shook my head. How on earth did I get here?

It started just a month ago. I wasn't careful enough. My parents are devout Southern Baptists - why didn't I think? I had known that I was gay since who knows when. But in my home, you had to fit the standards. You had to be straight. You had to be a Baptist. You had to be republican. It's like that line from South Pacific's "You've Got To Be Carefully Taught," "'ve got to be taught before it's too late / Before you are six or seven or eight / To hate all the people your relatives hate..." All too fitting.

Needless to say, someone who was alternative like me would not fit into what my parents considered holy. One day while my father and I were in this very van, I decided to blurt out, "I'm gay, you know." I don't think it was taken very well. They took me to a therapist, hoping to cure my ailments. After a few months of this, they found the results to be ineffective. I believe it also had to do with spreading rumors in our town. So they decided to send me to the "most prestigious boys' school in North America," the Glenville Shaw Academy For Boys.

I looked out the window and watched the deforestation of America pass me by. Miles and miles of chain-link fences with signs of poor grammar and spelling, letting all trespassers know that their presence would cause a mêlée. I guess it is over. My secret is out, and now I am to be punished for being me. Not that I should expect less from my wonderful parents.

"Now listen here, queenie. They gots counselors at this school, so they'll fix you right up. Make you like the rest of them straight-A kids at the Academy," my father said, interrupting my daydream.

"It's too bad they don't have speech therapists." I mumbled. My father turned around to face me, almost hitting a car. He swerved out of the other car's lane, honked at them for being in his way, and continued on even more gracefully so by flipping the other driver off.

"What the hell you say, boy?" He glared at me, showing me that he was the "man."

"Nothing, sir," I replied. Bastard.

I sat there in silence thereafter, thinking about the peace and quiet the Academy would afford me. Serenity… what a perfect thought. I closed my eyes and slept as the sand drifted down the hourglass of time. I opened my eyes to see new scenery. The earth was a purer reddish brown; the grass greener. I noticed that father had turned off the air-conditioning and had the windows open. I inhaled a deep breath of air. I could smell it. Freedom. In a blink, we were before the gates of the Academy.

The metal of the gates was designed in a Renaissance fashion, curling artfully until it was no more. The clean forest green color seemed to accentuate the Academy's illustrious beauty. My father was leaning out his window and speaking to a guardsman. He soon sat upright in his chair again. Silently and gracefully, the gates opened, and my father drove the van over the clear-black pavement.

My father followed the path quickly. He wanted to be rid of me; I could sense it. How one could hate their own child so is beyond me. I looked out my window to the right and saw the cardinal-red brick of the student dormitories. The dormitories were three stories tall, and had windows so clear that they reflected the afternoon sun too perfectly, and were hurting my eyes. I squinted my eyes as I saw a group of boys huddled together, sharing a joke or secret together. About twenty feet from them was a black woman of medium height standing in front of something. I saw a cane shoot out from the side of her. I smiled to myself as I felt the van pull into a driveway.

The van stopped, and I heard the death of the van's sputtering as my father turned off the ignition. Soon sounded the familiar click! of the back door of the van. I opened the sliding door and jumped out. As I jumped out, I met face-to-face with what I swore was a mortician. "Good afternoon, young man, and welcome to the Academy," he said, in an almost dramatic fashion, his right hand stretching out and pointing to it. His voice sounded like Sir Richard Attenborough saying, "Welcome to Jurassic Park" without the English accent. The old man smiled a goofy smile and said, "I am the dean here. My name is Dennis Mordrin. And yours is?" I told him my name and he smiled, looking at my father. "Well Mr. Dowling," Mr. Mordrin said to my father, "I am sure your son will enjoy his time here. Now, let's get him unpacked."

I unloaded all of my things from the van, and my father zoomed off into the sunset. Mr. Mordrin laughed to himself, shaking his head, and took me to my room. My room was on the third story of the dormitory that my father had parked beside; it was small, but livable. Mr. Mordrin watched as I made my bed. When I was done, I put my comforter on top of it and sat down. All that was missing was my kitty. I smiled and wished he was here now. I looked up, and Mr. Mordrin was still standing in the doorway. His face wrinkled even more as he cracked a painful smile. "You've missed lunch," he said, breaking the silence, "and your class schedule will be posted outside your door tomorrow morning…" he trailed off.

I looked at him curiously. What did he want? Mr. Mordrin's old brown eyes seemed to have a spark go off in them as he recalled his thought. " will there in the morning, so you have the rest of the day to yourself. And remember, my office is always welcome to willing visitors. If you want to talk.. I'm there." He smiled, and turned to leave, but stayed there a moment longer before finally leaving. He seemed to have something on his mind, but was afraid to say it. I shook my head, emptying this odd exchange from my head, and proceeded to unpack my things.

After the room was unpacked, I lay down on the bed with a satisfied smile. Here I was in my new home, and it was me. I had unpacked my computer and books, and had put my CD of Mendelssohn's Songs Without Words into my CD-ROM drive. The melody silently sang to me as I rested. I was again in that strange land of my dreams. My fair-headed apparition was skipping away into a Roman-style building, beckoning for me to follow. I followed him, and we ran into a room accented by an enormous fountain. It seemed to go up and up; its peak hit the ceiling. I took his hand, and we ran under the fountain.

I gasped as I awoke. God, I always wake up when it gets good! I shook my head and stood up, looking at my alarm clock. 3:52 p.m. Had I been here that short of a time? I opened my door and walked into the hallway. A doorway on the end of my hall was ajar, and I saw light emitting from it. I slowly crept to the door and peaked in. I am not usually a voyeur, but on my previous look at this hallway, I thought I was the only one here. I looked in and could clearly see everything…

A tall, medium built boy, wearing an athletic T-shirt and tight-fitting yellow soccer shorts with a green band on the bottom, sat on a bed next to a young, quiet, but very cute boy. "I thought you wanted to study Biology, Tommy," the young boy said, looking at the more heavily built one. Tommy looked at his young friend and grinned, unbuttoning the boy's striped polo shirt. "Jamie, I do. But I won't need books for it," Tommy said, winking.

"Why are we even in this old room? They never use this floor anymore… except for special kids.. or kids who are thrown in at the last minute," Jamie interjected.

"Exactly," said Tommy. "I'm going to give you something now, Jamie. Something many have dreamed of… but few have had." Tommy slowly stripped off his T-shirt, showing off his muscles to Jamie. Jamie merely slip back further on the bed that they were occupying and gasped. He unconsciously spread his legs. "Do you want me, Jamie?" teased Tommy. "Do you want this?" Tommy continued, indicating his crotch. Jamie merely whispered Tommy's name in reply. Tommy pulled off Jamie's shirt, reveling a skinny frame, which didn't seem to bother Tommy in the least. He removed Jamie's shorts and bent down to Jamie's ear, whispering, "Fuck me!" Tommy then embraced Jamie and thrust his tongue down Jamie's throat. Jamie held Tommy tighter, and his seemingly experienced hands found their way to his muscular friend's bottom, and he squeezed. Tommy ended the kiss and turned around, almost ripping off his shorts.

Jamie moved behind Tommy and spread his jock ass. His pressed his finger in, and thrust his hips forwards. Jamie leaned forward and squeezed Tommy's pectoral muscles as he thrust himself into Tommy. Tommy panted in pleasure and said, "You are as big as I thought." Jamie moaned in response.

I pulled my face from the door. This is a very interesting school indeed. I crept back to my room and decided to relieve my throbbing penis before I made them aware of my presence. I couldn't wait until tomorrow.

Part III.

Apparently, Mr. Dennis Mordrin couldn't wait until morning to give me my schedule. Around 7 p.m., he burst into the room, wearing a pastel suit. It certainly wasn't his color, and he looked like he had teleported directly from the seventies. I shut down my computer and turned to greet him. "Why Mr. Mordrin…" I started, but was cut off.

"Call me Dennis," he said cheerfully. He stared deeply into my eyes. It was as if he were searching my soul for some beacon, and my eyes were the key. His mud-brown eyes momentarily shifted to the carpetless floor and then met my blue eyes again. "You haven't had dinner," he stated rather than asked, "So you must join me." He removed his pastel blue sportcoat. He caught me looking at it. "It's not quite me, is it?" he asked, cackling. I said nothing, but looked the other way. "Anyway," he said, "let's get to it!" I stood up and followed him out the door.

He picked up something leaning against the doorframe which I had not noticed earlier. It was a dark-brown cane. I noticed that it had two grooves on it, as if something were to fit inside of it. He looked at me and smiled as I begrudgingly followed him out the door. We walked down the stairs of the dorm and out the door. As we walked out, the crickets softly chirped their sweet nighttime song. We walked through the same parking lot that spelled my earlier freedom, I heard a voice in the darkness call out, "Laura!" I tried to find out where this voice came from, but Mordrin tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to his car.

I sighed, shrugged and followed him to his black, rusty Dodge Shadow. I got into the passenger side seat as he started the car. We went to a local Italian restaurant and ate a quiet dinner. All throughout the meal, he kept looking deep into my eyes, as if he were searching for something that wasn't there. His pudgy wrinkled fingers came dangerously close to my own on more than one occasion. I just laughed nervously when he did so.

After about an hour of supping, Dennis, as he asked me to call him, smiled and started to speak. "So tell me, my young friend… why have you applied here in the middle of the semester?" His chubby fingers folded together, like a bird of prey moments from attacking its victim.

"My father thought is best," I quickly replied. Dennis laughed to himself and nodded. "I see. But why now.. and here? You live over a hundred miles away, don't you?"

"Yes, I do, sir. But he chose The Academy because it is one of the best."

"And didn't you have any part in this decision?"

I exhaled softly and said, "Not really."

"Ah, I see," he said, hesitating. "You see, here we like to.. make men out of boys." His pudgy snow white hands were sliding towards my own.

"You know, Mr. Mordrin," I said, my hands sliding away from his, "it's getting late. I should get to bed. I wouldn't want to be late for my first day of class."

"No," he said, smirking, "that would be a pity if you were tardy." I looked into his eyes and no longer saw anything human in them. He seemed to be the eyes of a hunter moments from its prey. "But.. surely you could come to my private office for a nice.. chat." My eyes widened with concern. Why was he doing this? Suddenly, his pager loudly chirped its incessant beep. He seemed to break out of his trance, the human intelligence returning to his eyes. "So, can I go back to my room, now?" I asked pleadingly. He agreed, and we returned to his Dodge Shadow. The next day, my alarm went off at 6:30 am. I got up, bathed in my vacant showered, and went off to class.

My morning classes were uneventful. First was English. Of course. We can't have a "wake up" class in the morning; no. We have to jump right into Honors English. FUN FUN FUN! Honestly though, English is a relatively simple class for me. Grammar comes quite naturally to me. I'm not perfect: I will admit that any day. But I am fairly good at it. Next came Geometry. I have no comment whatsoever about that. Finally, there was Speech. Oh, le joie de vivre. My teacher was one who loves to hear herself talk. She had a slight rasp in her voice. As the class was nearing its end, her voice was still trailing on. Her voice was very irritating, too. Her attitude screamed Giant Bitch! and when she spoke I just wish she'd clear her throat so she could speak normally. God.

"And so, you will be doing five total speeches in this class: one panel discussion, one informative, one inspirational, one persuasive, and one group review. It's going to be fun.. Well, I'm not going to lie to you. I'm the most difficult speech teacher in this school, and I'm going to make your lives hell." She glanced at her watch and continued, "Well, that's all the time we have. Have a pleasant afternoon. You'll need it." We wearily exited the class and went outside, as it was almost noon, which is lunchtime.

The high clock struck noon. The sun was gently dripping its rays upon my skin. It was a gorgeous day, and I felt no pangs of hunger, yet some strange force was driving me towards the cafeteria. Even though I had no idea where it was, the hundreds of bodies walking like sheep being herded to pasture game me a slight clue. I waited in line for my lunch, and made my way to the tables. This is one thing I hate about new places - you know no one, so you're not likely to find a seat. I passed by an average-looking who looked somewhat familiar. He put his hand on my shoulder. I knew it instantly - very friendly, but a jock nonetheless. He smiled at me kindly. "So you're the new guy," he started, rather than asking. I smiled bashfully and admitted to my horrid crime, telling him my name.

"Well Ben," he said, "welcome to Shaw Academy. My name's Tommy, by the way." He graciously permitted me to sit next to him. I wasn't shocked to see his friends wearing blazers with the letters GSA, Glenville Shaw Academy, on them. A soft voice behind us said, "See you later, Tommy." Tommy replied, "Yeah. Later, Jamie."

As my new-found friend began to socialize with is little clique, my eyes shot to the far corner of the room. Two tables were occupied, but all tables surrounding them were vacant. How odd, I thought.

My friend awoke me by mentioning my name. I looked at him and noticed that he and his friends were staring at me. "So this is the new dude." He smiled kindly, and started pointing around the table. "This is Dan Vishosone. He's center of the football team." Dan has light-brown hair, and a thin, slanted nose. I know little of football, but his medium-built body seemed unfit for his sport. He had a few pimples here and there, but looked relatively healthy. I looked into his dark-brown eyes and saw a rage, a fire that seemingly had no spark. Looking at him make me feel uncomfortable.

I'm sorry it took my so long to update, but I've been busy as heck! As always, feel free to e-mail me with any comments or concerns you may have. Thanks! =)

p.s. Happy Holidays!