I wish to retain all rights to this story. However, I am delighted to grant permission to any person to publish this story as long as there is no charge to the reader and as long as no changes are made to the story.
Copyright 2005. All Rights Reserved.
CHAPTER 37 — Outed
At first, I wondered how he could’ve known about my trip to the doctor, and then I realized that I hadn’t seen him since Friday. He had to mean the trial; several of my friends knew that I had to testify in the trial of the guy who had assaulted me. They just didn’t know the details. They only knew that I had been assaulted on a camping trip. “It went well,” I said.
“Did they put the guy away?”
“Oh yeah; eighteen months and then probation.”
“And you said he was our age?” Ken asked as he took a bite of roll.
“A couple of years older.”
“Is he good looking?” he asked.
“I suppose you could say so. Why?”
He shrugged. “It’s just that I’ve heard that young guys get raped a lot in prisons.”
“Not this guy,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s a black belt, and mean as hell. He’s probably one of the guys who’ll do the raping.”
“Maybe,” Ken said. “But I heard that it’s hell for young guys.”
“How’d you hear that?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Just heard it somewhere. Hey, by the way, the dive team’s going to be staying at a motel for the meet this weekend. You and I are going to share a room.”
“Cool,” I said, thinking it was just as well that Ken was straight. It’d be just that much longer that my butt, and prostate, would have time to recover.
. . . . .
Tom tossed my story onto his desk that night. "This shows promise. You have good imagery. The characters are well developed and interact well. The plot is good. But there is one glaring problem." He leaned back, scotch in hand. "Laura, your female lead, doesn't act like a female. Damn it, Sean, she acts like a guy. You know women are different. You have to write them that way.” Then he snorted. “If you think women are like guys, it's no wonder you don't have a girlfriend right now."
He had caught me. Wanting to write something with a bit of emotion to it, I’d written a story about Daniel and me, and changed Daniel’s character to… Laura. I spread my hands, considering what to say. I was tired of always hiding in the closet at Trinity. Tom seemed safe enough, sitting here with him in his study, sipping scotch. I lifted my tumbler and swirled it. "I have a confession, Tom."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I do have a lover, “I said. “And I wrote the story about us. I just made him a female."
Now Tom raised both eyebrows. "Well, damn. You just never know, I guess." Then he frowned. "Shit! That's the problem with the story. Why the hell did you change your lover...what's his name?"
"Oh, that Daniel. The blond guy who visited you a week or two back.”
“Pretty boys,” he mumbled, as if that explained things. Then he frowned again. “So why the hell did you change Daniel to Laura?"
I shrugged. "I just figured most people wouldn't want to read a homosexual love story."
He shook his head sadly. "Well what you did has been done before," he said, “But you aren’t a good enough writer to pull that off yet. And it was damned dishonest. Write from your gut, Sean. Write what's real. And write it well. Then worry about what people will or won’t read."
He shoved the story toward me. “Do it again.”
. . . . .
Lenny called on Thursday, just before supper at the dorm. “Come over here for supper,” he said. “I’ll fix you my Chicken Marsala.”
I had intended to call Daniel that evening since I’d be traveling with the team for the next two nights. But I’d put Lenny off before and it would be nice to just relax with a gay guy or two. “I’d love it, Lenny, but I gotta warn you; I can’t do anything… sexwise.”
There was a pause. “Why’s that baby?”
I sighed. Why not tell him? Lenny wasn’t just a friend, we’d done a bit more than friends do. “Doctor’s orders,” I said. “I sorta wore out my prostate with a pair of twins last week.”
There was a longer pause. “You aren’t serious?”
“Yeah, actually I am.”
“Oh, gawwwwd! You’ve got to come over and tell me all about it… blow by blow, Baby.”
“Feed me and I’ll tell you.”
“I’ll be glad to feed you, babe… it’s only you’re butt that you wore out, right?”
“Yeah, but I can’t have any fun. Remember? Doctor’s orders.
“Baby, you need a new doctor.”
Lenny met me at the door in very brief, black silk shorts; a skin-tight, black tank-top and just a hint of eye makeup.
“Damn it, Lenny,” I said, eyeing his bare legs and then letting my gaze climb his body. “I told you that I can’t mess around.”
“What’s wrong, Sugar? I’m wearing clothes.”
“Barely,” I said, stepping through the door. “Seriously, I can only stay if we don’t have sex.”
He pouted, and took me by the hand to the kitchen. “At least,” he said, tying on an apron, “cooking can be almost as much fun.”
I grinned and we both shook our heads “no” at the same time.
But we did have fun. He showed me how he made Chicken Marsala. I showed him how I liked to doctor up rice. We also tossed a salad and made garlic bread.
Then we ate together, and he told me more about his company. I told him briefly about the twins, but cut it short when I started to get hard. Then I told him about the trial.
We clowned as we cleaned up and did dishes together and I got hard simply because Lenny was standing next to me, dressed as he was, and being playful.
When I said goodnight at the door, I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled our crotches together, letting him feel my hardness. “Next time I come over,” I said. “Wear that outfit again.”
He smiled and we kissed. “Next time you come over,” he said. “I’ll wear it, but only for a little while.”
. . . . .
The dive team left for the meet early on Friday. I had enjoyed two great nights of sleep in a row and felt great… and horny. The doctor had said to hold off on ejaculations for a couple of days and my last sex had been Monday morning. So now I regretted agreeing to work for Coach this weekend; I really wanted to drive up to Austin and pounce on Daniel. Instead, I hoped to be back from the trip in time to get up to Austin on Sunday afternoon.
Coach intended to make me earn my pay. After having me help load the team gear into the back of the fifteen-passenger van, he sat me up front with him and gave me detailed instructions about the duties I was to perform on the trip. It occurred to me that he liked having an assistant. He certainly had plenty to do.
Ken took the seat behind me, and once coach finished filling me in, I was able to talk to Ken and the others sitting behind. When we stopped for supper, Ken and I hung together and brushed legs in a friendly manner under the table.
We arrived at the motel well after dark. I accompanied coach to the check-in desk. He gave me the clipboard with the room pairings and the clerk began handing me room keys, two by two.
“As you requested,” the clerk said to coach, “There’s a king room for you, and all the rest are doubles except for one. We ran out of doubles and I have only a king. Will that be OK?”
“That’s fine,” coach said. “Two divers will share a bed. Maybe two of the girls.”
“It’s OK. Ken and I won’t mind sharing,” I said, thinking it might be hard to sleep in the same bed with Ken and behave myself, but it was much too good an opportunity to pass up.
Coach instructed everyone to get to bed early; no watching late night movies on cable, and he checked on all the rooms shortly after, to make sure we were all readying for bed.
Once coach left, Ken turned to HBO, and we stripped to our underwear, brushed teeth, used the john, and crawled into opposite sides of the bed. I’d seen Ken plenty of times in the shower and in his underwear as he changed, but there was something different, and a little hot, about crawling into a bed with him in only our underwear.
He looked damned sexy in briefs – slender like Colin, ripped, with wider shoulders, long legs, and thick, black hair.
We talked about classes, the meet the next day, and Ken’s dives. The movie was about a bunch of teenagers in New York. One guy was cute, and a couple of the love scenes showed off his moving butt.
Ken and I pretended to pay only partial attention to the movie, but both got obviously distracted by the sex. I was foolish, I decided, choosing to sleep in the same bed as Ken. Not only had I not had sex since the weekend before; I was getting even hornier because of the movie. And since I was used to sleeping with Daniel, it occurred to me that I might just wake up in the night to find myself mauling Ken.
“We should have arranged to trade roommates,” Ken said after a hot scene in the movie involving the back seat of a car. “We should have traded so that Caitlyn would be in here with you and I’d be in with Debbie.”
“Debbie, huh?” I said. “I thought you had a girlfriend.”
He shrugged. “Not really. We had a couple of dates. Debbie is hotter.”
“Well just don’t attack me in the night,” I said, thinking that I wished he would.
He elbowed my ribs and I jumped. “Don’t do that,” I said. “I’m ticklish.”
Ken rolled up onto his side toward me with a wicked grin.
“Oh, no…” I started to say, but he rolled farther toward me, digging fingers into my ribs on both sides.
With a howl, I pushed his hands away and we wrestled around. I was careful not to let our legs tangle since the wrestling was making me half-hard. Once more Ken dug his fingers into my ribs. I tried to squirm away from him, but he grabbed my arms, pinning my wrists to the bed on either side of my head.
His smiling face was over mine, and his black hair hung down toward my cheeks. Our eyes were close and I found myself gazing into his, fascinated by their shape, their darkness. There is a beauty to Asian eyes, at least, Ken’s Japanese eyes; especially combined with the planes of his long face, his flattish nose, and his thin lips, he was… exotic.
Our laughter died, and his eyes searched mine, uncertain, timid, but close.
“I’m gay, Ken,” I said, quietly.
His eyes widened. He looked stressed, and even a little frightened, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, trembling slightly, he very slowly lowered his lips to mine. We kissed, and he shuddered. He let go of my wrists and laid his hands lightly on my shoulders.
I slid my hands down to his narrow hips and lifted them, lifting him over on to me. I opened my legs and our erections, separated only by our briefs, pressed together. He shuddered again, and pressed his cheek to mine.
“Have you ever been with a guy?” I asked.
He shook his head, and his body trembled.
“But you’ve thought about it?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I had a friend in high school who always wanted me to try. He even loaned me gay porn to check out. I just didn’t want to do anything with him.”
I patted his firm little butt with both hands. “Do you want to try anything with me?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “Ever since the first day we met… the way you looked at me…”
“You’re a good looking guy,” I said. “You can’t blame me.” I started pushing down his briefs.
He lifted his hips and when I had his briefs down to mid-thigh, I grabbed his cock while I pushed my own briefs down that far. His cock was medium in length and thickness. And yet it had an elegant curve upward and a large crown. I stroked him and felt his loose hanging balls with my fingertips, then I pulled my hand back and he settled on me again; this time, with naked cocks and balls. His body trembled once more.
“Relax,” I said softly, stroking his back with my fingers. “We don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to.”
He wrapped his arms tightly under my back.
“Was there anything you wanted to try first? We can try anything you want.”
“This feels good,” he said. “But I want to try everything.”
“No rush,” I said, kicking my briefs the rest of the way off.
Ken kicked his off too.
I pulled my knees up, and grabbing his butt, ground up against him. He got the idea, and began circling with his hips.
“By everything,” I asked, “do you mean anal and oral too?”
“Yes,” he said, then covered my mouth with his.
I opened my mouth to him, and his tongue plunged in. I kneaded his butt and he held me tightly in his arms while we ground.
“This feels really good,” he said.
“We can come this way if you want. I like it.”
In answer, he covered my mouth again and we ground harder.
I came first; I’d been behaving myself since Monday, no way was I going to last for long. My orgasm, with a mostly recovered prostate, was intense. I hoped I didn’t blow Ken away with my groans and whimpers. He came right after me, and then, panting, his mouth left mine. He collapsed on me, and I stroked his back.
After a while he pushed up off me and slid to one side.
“We can rest for a few minutes and then go again,” I told him. “I can get you ready.” I knew I’d be ready.
“No,” he said quietly and rolled to face away. “I need to rest for tomorrow.”
Something in the tone of his voice didn’t sound good. It sounded like regret. “Are you OK?” I asked, laying a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” he said, pulling his shoulder away.
I got up from the bed and went to the bathroom where I grabbed a hand towel. I wiped our cum from my belly and returned to the bed. Pulling back the cover from Ken, I wiped his belly and chest. “I’m sorry if you weren’t ready for this, Ken,” I said. “We don’t ever have to do it again — I want to stay friends.
He nodded, but said nothing.
I pulled the bedcovers over him again, and patted his shoulder. Then I turned off the TV, and the lights, and returned to my side of the bed where I lay down facing away from him, and pulled up the covers.
. . . . .
I had to get up early the next morning, to help Coach. I patted Ken’s butt as I climbed from bed, wanting him to know everything was OK with me.
But when he came to breakfast that morning, he only gave me a half-hearted wave, and then sat at another table. He wouldn’t even look in my direction.
Well, I thought with an inward sigh, Daniel was right all along. Ken had been interested in me. But now that I’d had sex with him, it may have cost me our friendship.
Caitlyn, though, was as friendly as ever, joining me for breakfast and sticking with me on the way over to the natatorium. It was then I noticed that Brent, one of our male divers, seemed to be tagging along after Caitlyn.
Ken barely looked at me that morning; that is, until the competition started and I struck up a friendship with a cute diver from Stephen F. Austin University. He was a short blonde, with a well-defined little body and the nickname of Tad.
He watched over my shoulder while I scored dives and made notes for Coach. “Could you do that for me?” Tad asked. “Critique my dives?”
He had a toothy smile and a John Denver chin. I liked John Denver. I liked Tad. I didn’t know whether it was my gaydar kicking in, or that we took an instant liking to each other, or simply that I always liked cute, short guys; but we clicked. So I nodded. “Sure, I’ll check you out. I’ll tell our coach I’m just scouting you,” I said, using intentionally provocative wording. And I watched for his reaction.
Tad grinned broadly. “Thanks. Scout me good.”
And then, over Tad’s shoulder, I noticed Ken, farther up the stands, looking my way for the first time since his “wave” at breakfast.
Ken’s first and second dives were both very poor for him. Caitlyn did well, and after each, I gave her a big fist pull “Yes!”
Before each of his first two dives, Tad caught my eye to make sure I was watching. His dives were good and I waved encouragement.
Coach was busy as hell with the divers, giving each instruction and encouragement before their dive and a butt slap or back slap after; figuratively speaking.
After Ken’s second dive, Coach came over to me with a scowl. “How late did you guys stay up last night?” he asked.
“Not that late,” I told him honestly.
“Then what the hell is wrong with Kawamoto?”
“Dunno,” I said. But I could guess. I could have told coach that Ken had his first guy sex and it fucked up his mind.
“He better concentrate,” Coach said, “or he’ll be eliminated.”
By late afternoon, Ken was eliminated. And I felt like shit. “I’m really sorry,” I said when he walked past.
He acted like he didn’t hear me.
At dinner that night, Brent distracted Caitlyn, which in a way was a shame. I would have enjoyed being with her. Ken certainly wasn’t talking.
Coach instructed everyone to get to bed early that night. And so, even though Ken wasn’t competing the next day, he hit the sack early. I watched TV for a while, and could tell that Ken wasn’t sleeping. But he pretended to.
Finally, after Coach did his bed check, I got up, turned off the TV, put on shorts and a shirt and went out walking. I thought about stopping by Caitlyn’s room. I was a little bored, and a whole lot horny. After going a week without sex, one quickie the night before with Ken, wasn’t going to cut it. And after all, Daniel had said that doing Caitlyn would be OK. Even though I had promised, he had released me, right?
I knew I shouldn’t. I knew Daniel would feel better if I didn’t. But I finally gave in and walked to Caitlyn’s door. Just as I was about to knock, she and Brent came around the corner. Brent’s arm was over her shoulder and her arm was around his waist.
She saw me, and momentarily froze. Brent gave me that smug, I’m screwing her and you aren’t look that straights do when they fuck somebody else’s girlfriend.
I stepped back from the door. “Just out walking,” I said, and turning, walked away.
Returning to the room, I found Ken awake and watching TV.
I brushed my teeth, stripped to my underwear again, and crawled into my side of the bed, turning away from Ken.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
“Walking,” I said.
“I thought maybe you went looking for that short guy from Stephen F. Austin.”
“They’re at another motel,” I told him. “I went to Caitlyn’s room, but someone else was already with her.”
“Oh,” he said.
He turned toward me on the bed and I felt his hand on my bare shoulder. “I want to try more things,” he said quietly.
“Are you sure it won’t mess you up?” I asked, without turning toward him. “You sure seemed fucked up today.”
“I was,” he said quietly. Then he pressed his body to mine and he was hard, his cock pressed my butt through our underwear. “I felt like shit, Sean. Like I really fucked myself up last night. All day, I couldn’t think of anything else. I kept trying to sort through my feelings. It’s hard because… I liked it.” He squeezed my shoulder with his hand. “I liked what we did a lot.” He slid his hand slowly down my side until it rested on my hip. “Your body… I kept thinking about it all day long; about us doing it again.” He wrapped his arm over my waist and pressed his cock against my butt.
“I was going to tell you ‘no’ tonight,” he said. “I wanted time to think things through before I thought about trying things again. But when you left the room… I was majorly bummed. I wanted to kick myself. I didn’t know when I’d ever get another chance to do things with you?”
“So now you want to? You won’t feel guilty again?” I asked.
“I probably will,” he said, burying his forehead in the back of my neck. “But I really, really want to, yeah… I want to now.”
I rolled over to face him. “You won’t quit on me after the first time you come?”
“Sheesh, Sean. How many times do you come in a night?”
“More than once,” I said.
“I haven’t done that before,” he said. “I’ve only done a couple of girls, on dates.”
“I can help you,” I said. “If you don’t quit on me, I can get you ready again.” I reached into his briefs and grasped the soft skin of his hard cock. “I can show you.”
“Please,” he said with a groan. “Show me.”
I pulled my underwear off, and while he pulled his off, I grabbed a bottle of lotion that I had put in the nightstand drawer. “We’re going to start with something I’ve wanted to do since the day we met,” I said. “Roll onto your other side.”
Perhaps I was in a mood to be a little selfish, to take care of myself. Ken hadn’t talked to me all day. Right now he was horny, but what about after he came the first time? At one level, I could understand his confusion and the tug of war that must be going on inside his head. But he had avoided me all day, and we were supposed to be friends. So I moved behind him, preparing to spoon his body with mine.
He trembled slightly, and I instantly regretted being so callous. I kissed the side of his neck and hugged him from behind, letting my cock press along his crack. “We’ll make it good for you,” I said. “I promise.” I kissed the back of his shoulder and rubbed his butt, then under his butt, then between his legs from behind. He moaned softly and his trembling went away. I reached over and stroked his cock, while slipping my own cock between his legs, pressing his balls gently from behind with my crown. His breathing grew ragged.
Taking the lotion, I lubed him and myself. I set the bottle aside and worked a finger in to his bottom. “Just relax,” I said. “We’ll take it real slow. And you’ll get your turn; you will try everything.”
“But you’re so damn long,” he said, sounding worried.
“We won’t do more than you can handle.” I wiggled my finger gently and he stiffened. I kept it up until he began to relax. Then I pulled my finger out and rubbed my cock head up and down his crack. He started to tense again.
I kissed his shoulder. “Relax,” I told him. “It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but it will get better.”
It’s funny how the knowledge that someone is a virgin makes sex with them that much hotter; and Ken’s butt was virgin. My cock was so hard, it felt like it would bust. I pressed forward, and my cock head slipped in. He tensed and I rubbed his side and belly. “Just relax, Ken,” I reminded him, and then slipped farther in.
I grasped his cock and began to stroke him, and I moved my body up, pressing the tops of my thighs to the back of his and my belly and chest to his back. I pressed my hips forward until I was halfway in. Ken arched his head back under mine so that we were almost cheek-to-cheek. I moved slowly in and out, careful not to penetrate too deeply, until he began to relax.
Then I wrapped my lower arm up around his waist, and with my other hand stroking his cock, I molded my body completely to his. Divers are all muscle, but their muscles aren’t hard as much as they are tight and sinewy. And his small butt was firm as I pressed forward. I mouthed his neck. “You OK?” I asked.
He nodded. “It’s not bad.”
Moving in bigger thrusts, I stroked him. He began to move with me. I felt the end of his cock, and he had precum. I spread it over his crown and he moaned. Then I resumed stroking him, all the way up and down his cock. And before long, he came; throbbing in my hand.
“It’s starting to hurt,” he said tensely as his orgasm finished.
I pulled out right away, but not abruptly.
When I was out, he relaxed. I hugged him by his belly. “OK so far?” I asked.
He nodded. “But now I’m ready to sleep.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” I said in what I hoped was a playful voice; which considering I was still hard as a rock, was very nice of me, I thought. I pulled on his shoulder, rolling him toward me, on to his back. And then I did what worked with me; I rubbed his balls.
“You never messed around with any of your buddies?” I asked. “Like when you were a kid? Didn’t you ever at least jerk off with another guy?”
Ken shook his head. “I heard things that made me think some of my buddies did that sort of thing, but I never did. My friend – the one who gave me gay porn to look at – he wanted to do stuff together, but he was a chubby guy and I wasn’t interested. The porn was hot though, and I started looking at guys differently.”
“Daniel says you looked at me differently,” I said with a grin, and then I kissed his nipple, lightly.
He sighed. “Yeah, you’ve got a great butt,” he said. “I’ve almost sprung a boner looking at you lots of times.”
I drew the tip of my tongue down the midline of his belly. “So, you want to try my butt?” I asked quietly.
“Oh,” he whispered. “In the worst way.”
His cock was almost hard again when I took it into my mouth.
. . . . .
Ken watched me as I dressed the next morning. “You were going to do Caitlyn last night?” he asked.
“I’m glad you came back,” he said.
Ken put his hands behind his head and stretched. When he did, the sheet over him drew down to his pubes. His body was glorious. “I’ve never done that,” he said. “Not even with a girl… you know, sleeping together; I mean, really together.” He smiled. “You’re comfortable to sleep on.”
“So are you,” I said as I finished buttoning my shirt.
“It was nice, Sean. And so was the… sex.”
I sat down on the bed beside him and rubbed his belly. “You think you’ll ever want to do it again?” I asked.
He nodded. “Of course. I do,” he said.
“So we’re still friends?” I asked.
He smiled and nodded again. I bent and kissed him lightly. He returned the kiss.
. . . . .
Caitlyn was the one who wouldn’t make eye contact with me that day, though I noticed that Brent wasn’t paying nearly as much attention to her; the turd.
Tad had advanced to the finals and was much more focused on his diving. But not so focused that he didn’t stop by to say hello. This time, Ken was sitting beside me, so I introduced them. Tad smiled at Ken in a way I considered downright coquettish and after he left, I poked Ken in the ribs. “New horizons, buddy,” I said.
“Is he gay?” Ken asked, watching the back of Tad’s speedos as he walked away.
“I think so.”
Ken looked thoughtful.
. . . . .
Tad placed second in the meet, and seemed pleased. He came up to me afterward, when I was alone. “You guys going to be at the practice meet in Austin?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I told him. “Coach paid me to help out this time. I don’t know if he will always want me along. But I think the team will be at that one.”
“Then here,” he said, handing me a piece of paper and stepping just a little closer than two guys normally stand. “I’ve written down my phone and address at school. Let’s stay in touch.”
“Hold on,” I said, taking a sheet from the bottom of the clipboard. “I’ll give you mine.”
As I was writing, he stepped even closer. “Maybe you could give my address to Ken, too.”
I handed him the paper and grinned. “Count on it.”
. . . . .
“I’ve always had the impression that a lot of divers, gymnasts, and ice skaters are gay,” Daniel said over the phone that night. “You know, like, those are sports for athletic guys who are gay.”
“So what?” I asked, leaning back in the chair at my desk. “Does that mean you’re going to check out the UT dive team?”
“I should,” Daniel replied. “I’m way behind you now. Since we’ve been at school, you’ve done Lenny and Michael, and last week, the twins, and now Ken. I’ve only done Sammy, Adrian, and Marco.”
“I didn’t know we were in a competition,” I said. “Hey, wait! Who’s Marco?”
“Haven’t I mentioned Marco?” he asked with a pleased chuckle.
“No, you haven’t,” I said.
“Well, let’s see, he’s dark and handsome; Italian I think. And he’s tall like Aaron, slender like you, hung about like me, and smarter than any of us. We’ve got a class together, but I didn’t dream he was gay until he asked me if I was.”
“So when the hell did you do him?” I asked.
“Last night, over and over,” he said, and I could hear the grin in his voice. “Or maybe, I should say, he did me.”
“Damn it Dan, you aren’t supposed to do anybody who’s actually good looking.”
“Oh? And so Lenny and Michael are ugly? Don’t you dare tell me Ken is; I’ve seen him.”
“Well none of them hold a candle to you and you know it.”
“I’m not so sure about that, but you can relax, Seany,” he said. “Marco doesn’t hold a candle to you either, except in the brains department.”
The door to my room opened and Eric came in, saw me on the phone, and stepped out.
“Eric’s back,” I said. “I love you Dan. Don’t fall in love with anyone else.”
“Not a chance, Seany, and you know it. There’s only one Beloved.”
I had just hung up when Eric returned. “I need your help,” he said. “I’ve got a major algebra assignment due in tomorrow and I’m having trouble with it?”
“Have you even started it?” I asked.
“That’s exactly the trouble I’m having with it,” he answered. “I haven’t started it yet.”
That night, as I fell asleep, I remembered how worried I was when I thought I might have a venereal disease. Worried that is, that I might have given it to several guys. And it occurred to me that if Daniel or I ever got the clap, we could pass it on to a hell of a lot of guys pretty quickly. I decided we might need to be careful.
. . . . .
The next afternoon, a Monday, one of the girls in my honors classes – one of the girls whose invitations I’d turned down — stopped me in the hall. “Didn’t you go to testify in a trial last week?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Burnet. Why?” I asked, cautiously.
She smiled, smugly. “US News, this week, in their Changing Times section – you know, the one with little headlines from around the country — they mentioned a trial in Burnet County, Texas. The trial was of one homosexual who beat up another homosexual over a lover. Did you hear about that trial while you were up there?”
Her smile told me all that she suspected. “No,” I said, trying not to turn red. “I was only up there for a day.”
“What was your trial about, again?” she asked with a malicious grin.
“Nothing,” I said, walking away.
Later I saw her huddled with three other girls. They all looked my way. The other three looked surprised. The first girl looked… smug.
. . . . .
I didn’t mention the incident to Daniel that night when I phoned him. I wanted only to talk about our plans for the weekend. “Colin called a while ago,” I told him. “This weekend is homecoming; we have to go see Colin play.”
“Have you told him that I would be coming, too?” he asked.
“Yeah, and he’s cool with it. He’s really into Heather now, and besides, he’s accepted that you and I will always be together. Oh, and I told Dad that we’d be sleeping in the back of the Bronco.”
“It’s crazy that he’s OK with us making love in the driveway, but not in the house,” Daniel observed.
“He’s not OK with it in either place, really, and you know that. It’s just easier all around if we sleep outside.”
“Yeah, well who said I was going to let you sleep?”
. . . . .
Linda called a few minutes after my call with Daniel. “I waited to call until today,” she said, “because… well to be honest, there’s a guy up here that I’m interested in, but nothing’s happening with him, and I need a date, not this weekend, but next.”
“I know I said I might be able to help out like that sometime, Linda,” I said. “But things have been pretty busy lately.”
“It’s the Halloween Masquerade Ball for my sorority,” she said. “It’s gotten to be a really big thing for us, Sean. Every year we rent a ballroom at a local motel and we all get rooms. And I was thinking… well, no girl has ever taken two dates. Do you think that you and Daniel could be my dates that night? I’d have a motel room for us… we could see what would happen.”
“No kidding? You would? I mean, wow, that really would be great, Linda. I bet I can talk Daniel into it.”
“I’ve already thought about our costumes,” she said. “What would you think if I went as a Greek matron and you went as my two house slaves?”
“Sounds cool,” I said.
“You sure?” she asked. “You wouldn’t be wearing much.”
“Loincloth and sandals, and maybe a loose cloak, alright?” she asked.
I thought of Daniel in that costume. “Yeah. Way alright.”
. . . . .
By the next morning, there were huddles of people stealing looks at me; stealing looks and shying away. At first I didn’t understand, and then I remembered the girl from the day before and the US News story.
Other than the professors, people acted awkwardly around me. That afternoon, no one, not even Ken, remained in the shower when I finished swimming.
Eric slammed his books down on the counter that night. “Everybody knows about you now,” he said angrily.
“Tell me about it,” I said, looking up from the open book in my lap. I was sitting on the bed in my underwear, leaning back against the wall. I laid my head back on the wall and sighed. “Do I need to move out?”
“I don’t know,” he growled. Then he glanced at me. “I don’t want you to.”
“But I might have to?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he repeated angrily and plopped into his chair.
“You could beat me up,” I suggested.
He gave me an uncomprehending look.
“No, really,” I said. “I’ve thought about it. You could beat me up and then guys would know you aren’t gay and that you won’t take any shit off me.” It was crazy, I know. Perhaps I wanted Eric to hit me. Perhaps I wanted pain someplace other than in my heart.
“I’m not going to beat you up,” Eric said.
“Do you really want me to remain your roommate?” I asked. “You aren’t just trying to be nice?”
He smiled, ruefully. “Who else would help me with algebra? Or go streaking with me at night?”
No doubt about it; I liked ol’ Eric. It would be hard to find a better roommate… it might be hard to find any roommate. But I did want to protect him, and as crazy as my idea sounded, I thought it might work. I got up from the bed and walked over to him. “Hit me,” I said.
“I’m not going to fuckin’ hit you,” he growled.
I bent over, putting my face in front of his. “Hit me,” I repeated.
He shoved me away. “Forget it, Sean. I’m not going to hit you.”
I sat astride his lap, put my arms around his shoulders and kissed him on the lips. That did it.
He shoved me back with one hand, but I held on, and then he hit me square in the eye with his big fist. I went reeling back and caught the back of my shoulder on the corner of my desk chair.
It hurt like hell, but he hadn’t hit me nearly as hard as he could. I went to the room mirror and studied my eye. “You should have hit me harder,” I said, touching around my eye tenderly.
“You asshole!” Eric fumed, getting up from his chair. He studied my eye in the mirror and then put a hand on my back. “Damn it, Sean! I didn’t mean to do that… reflexes I guess… and I guess I was angry.”
“At me?” I asked.
“You and everybody else,” he said with a deep frown.
I gave him a half smile in the mirror. “I’m sorry to put you in this spot, Eric. I really am.” I looked closely at my eye again. “I hoped that kiss would set you off,” I said. “I was just afraid you’d kiss me back instead of hit me.”
“Well don’t try it again, or I might.”
“There could be worse things,” I said, turning my shoulder to the mirror to see if it was bruised.
“You may need to hit me again,” I said. “This might not be good enough.”
He grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to study my eye. “It’s starting to swell,” he observed. Then he frowned. “Just don’t tell people you kissed me.”
“You think I’d admit that in public?” I asked in mock shock.
He shoved me. “You’re a shithead Sean. Now people are going to think I’m an asshole, bullying you.”
“And that’s bad because?” I asked.
“Because you’re popular for one thing,” he said. “Why do you think everybody knows about you now? If no one knew you, no one would care. But everybody knows Streak. That’s why it’s such big news that ‘Streak’s a queer.’”
“Is that how they’re saying it?” I asked.
He shrugged and turned away. “Pretty much.”
“Well it doesn’t sound like you need to worry about people being mad at you. I think my popularity just went to hell.”
“People still like you, Sean.”
I doubted that.
When I brushed my teeth before bed, I remembered that I was going home on Friday. Getting Eric to hit me was probably a stupid idea. Now I’d have a black eye when I went home. I was so fucked up!
We turned out the lights, and I wept silently in bed. Sleep came slowly. In the night, I dreamed I was running on the beach with Daniel.
. . . . .
I decided the next day that Eric was wrong about people still liking me. Almost no one talked to me. A few girls were still friendly. And a couple of guys I would never have picked as friends made a show of being friendly to the gay guy. The people who really mattered still acted awkwardly around me or stayed away, except for Eric who joined me for lunch.
“The black eye doesn’t work,” he said, “if you don’t tell people who gave it to you.”
“Who can I tell? No one’s talking to me.”
“Well fuck you, then. I really should beat you up now, for making me give you a black eye… asshole. When people ask me who gave you a black eye, I have to tell them I did it. And then when they ask me why, I just have to shrug. I mean, like, how can I say, ‘he kissed me?’”
“Tell them you did it on general principles. Tell them you did it so I wouldn’t ever get any ideas about us.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, growling down into his meal. “That’s sorta what I’ve been saying.”
Tracy joined us. She had never sat with me before, even when Eric had. When she did this time, she sat beside him with a proprietary air. Then she made a big show of hugging and snuggling Eric. I was sure her intent was primarily to “protect” his reputation, but she was also staking out her territory.
Caitlyn hung around close to me as much as she could at warm-ups and before swimming, but she looked confused and perhaps slightly embarrassed.
Ken stayed away.
But he phoned that night before I left for Tom’s. “Please, Sean,” he said, “you can’t tell anybody what we did this weekend. They’re already teasing me about being your roommate.”
“I wouldn’t tell anybody, Ken. I only told Daniel because he’s my lover; he’s my best friend.”
“Sean,” he said in a pleading voice. “You have to understand if I hang back for a while, OK. You’ve been gay a long time.” He lowered his voice. “I only tried stuff this weekend; I may not ever do it again.”
“Yeah, I guess understand, Ken. I’ll miss being friends, though.”
“We’ll still be friends, Sean. Just give it a while.”
. . . . .
Tom poured me a tall scotch. “You’re certainly the big news on campus this week,” he said with a bemused smile.
“The word pariah comes to mind,” I mumbled, and took a sip. The scotch was warm and soothing. I leaned back in the armchair and relaxed for the first time in two days.
“Take notes,” Tom said. “You’ll be able to use this experience in stories later.”
I gave him a resentful, sidelong glance.
“You can’t be the only gay guy on campus, Sean,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Did you know that Hemingway had a gay period? At least, that’s a story that has been around for a while.”
“Didn’t Hemingway blow his brains out?” I asked.
“You aren’t that torn up by this are you?” he asked quietly.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m just ready to be away from here. This weekend, Daniel and I are going down to see my brother play; he’s quarterback for our home team and he’s really, really good. We’re going to take the Bronco and sleep in the back on the mattress that Sarah gave me.”
“Make notes on that, too,” Tom said with a grin. “Then make Daniel a girl in the story and give it to me.”
“Is it permissible to shoot your professor the finger?” I asked quietly.
. . . . .
When I left Tom’s, I had two choices. The first was to go back to the dorm and call Daniel to cry on his shoulder. But I just couldn’t face campus again; the stares and whispers, my own black eye in the mirror. I took my second choice. I went over to Lenny’s and Michael’s.
Both were home. But Adam was out which was fine with me; I wanted to talk only with Lenny and Michael.
Lenny took one look at my face and sat me down with an ice pack for my eye. By the time I finished telling them about the previous couple of days, dropping back to cover the weekend so that they would understand about Ken — by the time I finished explaining all that, Lenny and Michael had me lying on the couch, my butt in Lenny’s lap and my head in Michael’s.
Michael stroked my hair. Lenny stroked everything else. They were gentle and soothing, and I relaxed.
“You know what he needs,” Lenny said to Michael.
“I get to do it,” Michael said quickly.
“Both of us,” Lenny said with a grin, and then rubbed my balls through my pants. “I’m rubbing the lamp, Mikey. Let’s make a wish.”
. . . . .
Standing next to the bed, we had stripped to our underwear. With one arm around
each of them, I held them to me; their full pouches snug at my hip sockets.
Lenny had his hand in my underwear and the three of us kissed and chewed on
each other’s necks.
“Can you take care of both of us… Stud?” Lenny asked, gnawing my ear.
“Can only two of you take care of me?” I asked.
Lenny howled and Michael laughed.
I shoved the two of them back onto the bed and then pulled off Lenny’s underwear. His thick cock flopped straight up his belly. Then I pulled off Michael’s and he pulled his knees up laughing; his hard cock, jutting slightly off to the side.
I pulled off my briefs, and with a yell, leapt off my good foot, onto them. We rolled into a broiling of legs, arms, and cocks; laughing and tickling. When the two of them got me onto my back, Michael moved his chest over mine and kissed me. When he did, Lenny took my cock into his mouth.
I squirmed under them, and grew hard as hell. When Lenny had my cock super wet, he climbed astride my hips and guided my cock up inside him.
Michael hugged my shoulders tightly and kept kissing me as Lenny began to move on me and my hips responded.
“Don’t come yet,” Michael whispered. “Wait for me.”
“Easy for you to say,” I said through gritted teeth.
Lenny rocked his hips hard, pulling my cock down inside him, rubbing his cock on my belly. I clutched his thighs, moving with him. “I don’t think I can wait,” I said.
“I’ll help with him,” Michael said with a kiss to my cheek. Then he reversed his body to put his head down between Lenny’s legs. When he did, I could reach his hips and pulled Michael’s butt the rest of the way up toward me.
His cock looked thick on his small body, and had a beautiful upward curve. I buried my face in between his legs; licking, sucking, smelling while he did the best he could with hands and mouth on Lenny’s wildly thrusting cock.
Lenny cradled the back of Michael’s head and his own head lolled. “Oh, Mikey,” Lenny gasped. “You gotta ride this stallion.”
I pulled my head from between Michael’s legs long enough to glance up at the mirror, and it held my gaze. Lenny’s body undulated erotically on mine, and Michael’s small, slender frame stretched alongside us.
Lenny began even longer thrusts up my belly, pulling my cock hard each time. I gasped, and wrapping my forearms about Michael’s hips, I grabbed his butt with both hands and pulled his crotch to my face.
I concentrated on giving attention to Michael and did alright for a few minutes, but once Lenny started crying out and tightening his butt, I didn’t stand a chance; I came with him.
And then he slowed, and I rolled back from Michael’s hips to see his head rise from Lenny’s lap. As Lenny and I came to a stop, Michael reversed his position once more and his face moved over mine.
“Did you save any for me?” he asked, stroking my hair back.
I could taste Lenny in his mouth, and probed with my tongue to clean him – it seemed the thing to do – he had taken care of Lenny and Lenny had taken care of me.
Letting out his breath, Lenny pulled off and rolled onto his back beside me. “Remember to rub the Lamp, Mikey,” Lenny said. “You’ll get him going again.”
Michael reached between my legs and cupped my balls, watching my eyes.
“Get on top of me,” I whispered. “Rub my balls with your balls. That always turns me on.”
I opened my arms and legs to him and Michael settled on me, kissing, rubbing his hard cock against my semi-hard one. And in a few moments, he had me fully hard again.
Once he did, he didn’t waste any time; Michael wanted to come. He sat up, straddling my hips just like Lenny had done. And he guided my cock inside him.
He was hot, literally hot. And his skin was deeply flushed from his chest up to his cheekbones. He backed down onto me quickly, and his movements started out fast as he rocked his hips, just as Lenny had done. He bent to kiss me and held the kiss as I rocked up into him.
In the mirror above, my bent legs looked long, cupped up to Michael’s butt. Except at his narrow waist, his torso mostly hid mine up to my shoulders, and I watched his back clutch and release as he rubbed his cock on my belly. He didn’t simply get me hard again; he aroused me.
Suddenly, I wanted him under me. I rolled us onto his back, and wrapped his smaller body up in mine like I did with Ry. I covered his mouth with mine and held him tightly in my arms. He wrapped his arms over my back and ground his cock up on my belly while I thrust with my hips into him.
The bed bounced wildly beneath us as the sound of protesting bedsprings filled the room. The bed bounced Lenny with us. Smiling, he propped up on his elbow and kissed my shoulder. “You guys are hot!” he said. I felt his open hand slide over my clinching butt. “Beautiful, Baby,” he said, “the way you move that thing.”
Michael moved with me, and then wrapping his legs tightly around my waist, he started arching under me with each of my thrusts. He grabbed my shoulders with both hands and squeezed hard. And then he went rigid, whimpering, and I pounded into him until he finished coming and started to relax.
I came to a stop in him, and the room was quiet except for our breathing. “Do me that way,” Lenny whispered in my ear.
I hadn’t come again yet, and was more than ready. So I pulled gently from Michael, and moved over to Lenny, pushing his legs up. Then watching his eyes, I held his legs up, and using my hips to position myself, slowly re-entered him. His heavy-lidded eyes held mine.
Laying his legs out to the side, I grabbed his hips and pulled him snug to me. Then rising on my knees, I bore down into him until my cock stretched long inside him. I arched, sighing, holding myself in.
He held open his arms to me and I doubled over him, laying myself onto his hard body. I slid my knees back, grabbed his rock hard shoulders and stretched my belly over his. I wrapped his hard body in my arms; he wrapped his arms and legs around me. And once more, the bed began to bounce.
. . . . .
It was late. I looked up at the mirror above. In the dim light, I could make out the faint reflection of me on my back, with Lenny draped on my right side and Michael on my left. Their heads were on my shoulders and I had one arm around each of them. Their breathing was regular; my guess was that they were already asleep.
I studied the curves of their backs and their butts, their dark hair over their faces and my shoulders, and the small bits of me that I could see between their bodies. I had taken care of them. I had taken care of all of us; Michael once, Lenny twice, and me twice. At least in this house, I was male; the stud. And it felt damned good.
I pictured them in loincloths.
They were sweet guys. I knew their sex therapy was mainly sex, but it had taken my mind off school completely, and I’d enjoyed it… greatly enjoyed it. Turning my head to the right, I kissed the top of Lenny’s head and took a whiff of its rich scent. Then I turned to Michael and kissed the top of his head, the light scent of his cologne, filling my nostrils.
And then I smiled. Lenny was getting an erection again; I could feel it against my thigh. I was sure his erection was only the kind that guys get when they are sleeping, but I thought about doing him again in the morning, or even tonight.
I wanted to stay with them until Daniel came for the weekend. The last thing I wanted to do was return to campus.
But I did, the next morning. And all day, I was alone.
. . . . .
Before swimming, I stopped by Coach’s office. “Is it OK if I miss swimming tomorrow, Coach? I want to get back home in time to see my little brother play tomorrow night. He’s quarterback for our high school football team.”
He glanced up from his swim magazine. “Sure. Just give me a good effort today.”
I stayed at the door. “Coach, the therapy has really helped. I’m about ready to do without the cane. Maybe I don’t need to come to swimming any more.”
He frowned from under his bushy eyebrows. “You do.”
“I’m really doing better Coach.”
I shrugged. There was no way to tell him how hard it was to see former friends avoiding me, or guys trying to hide their privates from me while they changed in the locker room.
I turned to go.
“Sullivan,” he called.
I turned back.
“I’ve watched you, son. You’re tough. You hang in there.”
Sometimes tears strike at the weirdest times. My eyes started to water and I blinked, quickly. “Thanks, coach,” I said, and quickly left.
. . . . .
I called Daniel that night and told him all about my new reputation on campus; and I warned him about the black eye.
Then I called Dad.
“I’d give it time, Son,” Dad told me. “You may lose a few friends, but the ones who stick with you now, and the ones you gain, will be true friends.”
“It’s a small campus, Dad. No one’s sticking. Honestly… all I want… with all my heart, is to just drop out, get a job in Austin, and move in with Daniel. I can start UT next semester, or even next year. It’ll be different at UT.”
“No, Sean. Don’t even think about dropping out. Don’t lose the work you’ve done or the investment your granddad and the school are making in you. You’ll keep some friends at Trinity, or make new ones.”
“I do have a couple of friends here in town, Dad. They’re gay, though. You may not like them.”
“Give me credit, Sean. I’m not like your buddies on campus. You’re my son. I will like your friends.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I do still have one friend on campus. My roommate, Eric, still likes me. Other than my professors, he’s the only one who still treats me the same way he always has.”
“I may have to give Eric a hug when I come up there,” Dad said.
“If you do,” I told him, “you better duck fast.”
Emails are appreciated at email@example.com