Date: Fri, 1 Jan 2010 16:54:32 -0800 (PST) From: Peder Pederson Subject: the story "Why?" Chapter III Chapter III A Revelation I graduated from Belston and decided to enter graduate school. I had majored in psychology and intended to further my studies in that area. The truth was: I really had no clear idea of what I was going to do with a B.A. in Psychology! And, the only other field that interested me was history. Both, to my mind, had limited employment opportunities. I scouted various graduate schools, looking for smaller schools. All the good graduate schools were part of large state universities. I finally settled on Ohio University. It had a good department, the school was not huge, and it was located in a smaller city in southeastern Ohio. I applied, was accepted and started the fall after graduation from Belston. Athens, Ohio, was a typical university town. It is the county seat, but if it wasn't for the school, it would be dead! As with any small city with an attached university, housing was a bit of a problem. I didn't want to live in a dorm, even a graduate dorm, and the newer apartment buildings charged an arm and a leg! I did have an assistantship, but my funds were not inexhaustible! Went to Columbus for a workshop around the first of October--not one of those required things, but one I thought would be beneficial. And, besides it got me out of Athens for a few days. It was a trip I would long remember. I had been to a number of workshops and found them interesting, although there were usually boring elements about them. After a particularly dull evening session I went to the john. Had to attend to business, as my granny would say. There was only one empty stall in a row of five--in the middle. I entered, dropped my pants and attended to my business! I hadn't noticed at first, but there as a hole in each of the flanking walls. By their size and location, their use was obvious. Now I had never participated in anonymous sex before, but, obviously my neighbor(s) had--at least the one to the left. In my hunched position, I noticed he was looking into my cubicle. I glanced away and ignored him. He then ran a finger around the opening--I assumed that it was an invitation. I wasn't interested and continued to ignore him. Now, I realize that my ignoring him was also a kind of an invitation as his cock suddenly appeared in the opening and was shoved all the way through! To say the least, I was a bit surprised. Not only by my neighbor's brazenness, but also by the size of his dick. It wasn't exceptionally thick, but it sure as hell was long! I sat back partly in wonder, partly in curiosity as I looked at it. He held it there for a while--apparently waiting for me! I felt like saying. "Sorry man, not interested." But, I didn't. Slowly, he withdrew his 'weapon.' I had finished my business, flushed and stood up. Unannounced to me, his display had triggered certain reactions in me. My cock was nearly erect! Carefully I drew up my briefs and adjusted my swollen cock as best I could before raising my pants and leaving. I washed my hands and decided to go the the hotel's lounge for a drink. I sat at the bar and ordered a scotch and soda. A couple of minutes later someone sat next to me. I turned to the guy and was nearly bowled over. There sat Prof Kim! "Hello, Brad," he greeted me brightly. "Prof Kim!" I was surprised as hell, and added, "What are you doing here?" Prof Kim was one of my psychology professors from Belston. I can't say that he was my favorite professor there, but I really enjoyed his classes. He was notoriously tough, and I had to worked my ass off for a decent grade. He was one of those professors who were always available for any questions or help. Several times I sought him out and he was thorough in his explanations and made sure that I had understood him. Prof Kim was originally from Korea and he felt that his accent often times got in the way. Actually, the first week or so it was difficult understanding him, but I soon had no difficulty. "I am here for this semester. I have taken a sabbatical and am doing some research here in Columbus," he explained. Then, he added, "And, what are you doing here?" "Came to a workshop. I'm enrolled at O.U." and added for clarification, "Graduate school in psychology." "Fine! You should do well Brad." "Thanks, Prof." We sat and chatted. Out of the academic situation, I found Prof Kim friendly and open--almost voluble. We talked of family--he was married, two children, one in graduate school, one undergraduate--and just things in general. He asked what branch of psychology I was interested in and just about things of mutual interest. We must have sat there for nearly two hours and I drank four scotch and sodas. That I remember! Cant' even remember what Prof Kim was drinking, for sure, but think it was vodka something! I had skipped dinner that evening and soon I really felt light headed. I should have known better, I wasn't used to hard liquor--but things seemed to just flow along. Realizing my state, I said, apologetically, "Prof, think I'd better quit," after he offered to buy a fifth round. "Think I should get to my room!" I slipped off the stool and realized that my legs weren't too steady. "Are you all right, Brad?" he asked solicitously. "Yeah, sure, Prof," and I started to walk to the door. Suddenly the damned room tilted and I caromed of an empty stool. I had sense enough to grab the bar to steady myself. "Here, let me help you," Prof Kim said as he grabbed my arm for support. "Jeeze, I'm so embarrassed!" I confessed, then added, "Didn't have any supper." "Nonsense, nothing to be embarrassed about!" and added, "You want to go the the dining room to eat?" "Thanks, but think I should go to my room . . . . Just point me to the elevator." He manoeuvred me to the elevator. The door opened and he helped me in. "What's your floor Brad? I told him and he pressed the button. The movement of the elevator added to my unsteadiness and I fell against the Prof. "Sorry!" "No problem," he smiled and grabbed me about the waist to steady me further. Prof Kim wasn't a big man. I was about three inches taller. His grip around my waist was authoritative and I could tell that he was not a weakling. Actually, the only apparel I ever saw him in was a suit and tie. But he gave the impression of controlled strength and a muscled frame under his academic garb. He got me to my room. Three times I tried to get that damn key-card into the slot. The third time I succeeded, but the door wouldn't yield. Must have put it in reversed. "Here, Brad, let me help you. I always have trouble with these key-cards!" I let him. Instantly he inserted the card and the door yielded. I lurched into the room, kicked off my shoes and yanked off my polo shirt. I tried to take my pants off, but the inertia of my movement merely caused me to get them part way off before I collided with the bed. "Shit!" I lay there, diagonally across the bed, on my back with my pants around my knees. The room was rocking, not violently, but gently enough to make any attempt to stand futile. The Prof quietly closed the door, walked over to the bed, grabbed the waistband of my pants, peeled them off, folded them and placed them on a chair. "I'm so embarrassed!" I repeated. He merely smiled, took off his suit coat, walked to the bed, grabbed my arm, effortlessly pulled my to a sitting position and off the bed. With one arm grasped around his shoulder and his other arm around my waist he half drug me to the bathroom. "I've learned . . . there's only one help for you now . . . a good cold shower!" Luckily there was a built-in seat in the shower. He plopped me down on it, aimed the shower head and mercilessly turned on the cold water! "SHIT!" I yelled as the cold water hit me, "It's so damn cold!" I tried to get up, but he easily pushed me back! "Oh, damn! This is cold." The initial shock of the cold water soon wore off, and, to tell the truth, I felt less dizzy. Guess the adrenaline from the cold shock burned some of the alcohol out of my system. I rubbed my face and neck--trying to get the juices flowing. I stood up, still a bit unsteady and turned allowing the water to pelt my back. "Ahhh!" I groaned as the cold water first hit my back. I braced myself against the wall of the shower and let it flow over me. Finally, I uttered, "Enough, " turned the water off and stepped with gaining confidence from the shower stall. Prof handed me a towel and returned to the bedroom--his chore over. I briskly dried myself, padding my dripping briefs to some degree of dryness. I glanced in the mirror and noted that my wet briefs did nothing to hide the form or outline of my cock and balls. A dark shadow defined my pubic hairs through the soaked fabric. I walked into be bedroom, drying my hair. "Hey, thanks, Prof," I stated, still embarrassed. He merely smiled. Prof Kim had put his suit coat back on an had turned down the bedclothes while I had been drying myself. I sat on the bed. "Thanks again, I really am sorry . . . should know better!" Again he smiled, "Ahhh! Well it's happened to me a couple of times." I smiled, knowing he was just trying to make me feel better. "I'll let myself out." "OK," I said and flopped back and swung my legs under the blanket. "You'd better take those wet briefs off . . . don't want to catch a cold!" "Yeah, I will," I stated. Actually I could have cared less. I was suddenly sleepy. Then I felt his hands on the waistband of my briefs. "Lift up a bit," he commanded. I did and he quickly peeled the briefs off. I thought I heard an intake of breath. I opened my eyes and noticed that his eyes were focused on my crotch! I glanced down and realized that I was hardening. I don't know why . . . but there was my cock, half hard and snaking upward. "You have pajamas?" he asked dryly. "No," I answered simply But he gave the impression of controlled strength and a muscled frame under his academic garb. I don't know what had caused my cock to become erect! It certainly wasn't the situation. Guess it's just one of those things that just happen--from time to time. I don't know why I didn't attempt to cover myself. I can only think it was the alcohol. I usually am fairly modest, especially with strangers. Not that Prof Kim was a stranger, exactly. But, . . . . I don't know why, but I just lay there and watched my cock grow to full erection. Did I have a thing for Prof Kim? No! I respected him as a teacher, but to make it with him? No! He watched my cock raise to its throbbing height and firmness. He glanced at me. I returned his gaze without implication. Slowly, the Prof moved back to the bed and tentatively stretched his had towards my hard on. I merely watched. He shot a quick glance to my face to gauge my reaction. I merely watched. Then he gently folded his fingers about my hard shaft. "Ahhhh!" I gasped. Again he looked into my face. I merely watched. Slowly he manipulated my hard, throbbing cock. I lay there. I merely watched. I allowed Prof to play with me! Why? Then he bent over and half my erection disappeared into his mouth. The feeling was electric. My mind returned to the first time Ty sucked me and the fantastic sensations his mouth engendered. This was similar. I watched as he drew part way up then plunged down farther. "Gawd," I groaned. It felt so good! Those fantastic sensations I had experienced with Ty returned. My fogged brain reeled from the sensation. The sensation of that worm moist mouth suctioning by rigid cock. Why was this happening? Why was he doing this to me? Why was I loving it so much? Why? I blurted out, "Stop." Quickly Prof Kim pulled of. There as a look of surprise and also I could tell he was disconcerted and confused. "I'm sorry," he stated flatly, "Forgive me!" I immediately realize that he felt that I objected to his actions--that he had assumed something that was not true. His embarrassment rapidly turned to a deep, livid blush. But the truth was the opposite was true. I don't know why, but I wanted this. I wanted him to make love with me. But, I now realize that I wanted to make love with him too! "Forgive me! Please!" "No! No," I protested as I sat up. Totally consumed with embarrassment, Prof Kim back away. "No, don't leave . . . . " I blurted out, then quietly I implored "Take your clothes off." He stood there in shocked inaction. What he at assumed was not so. "Please, " I whispered. A smile spread across his lips as he realized the truth. Slowly he disrobed, never taking his eyes off mine. I watched as her carefully disrobed, and neatly piled his clothes on the chair. Like Ty, his body was nearly devoid of hair. The difference was the whiteness of his skin. True he was in his mid fifties, but was in pretty good shape. His belly bulged slightly, but he appeared to be a man who exercised regularly--taunt and firm. He stood there for a second looking at me before moving to the bed. He had not removed his briefs. "Take them off," I asked quietly. It must have been his natural Oriental modesty 'cause he hesitated a moment or two before slipping out of them. Nude he stood there in front of me. He was half hard. His cock-head was still sheathed, and I noticed his black pubic hairs were straight and not at all thick as they fanned downward to the base of his cock. I merely watched and observed this man. Again he moved to the bed and sat on its edge and again grasped my cock. I reached over for his. Now it was his turn, "Ahhhh!" and he again began to suck my cock. Just for a short time, then he drew off, gazed into my eyes and moved up and began to suck and lick my nipples. It was delicious. "Mmmm!" I groaned as he expertly ministered to my rigid nipples. Instinctively, my hands moved over his taunt, muscled back and then bracketed his face. He lifted his head and looked again at me. "That feels so nice, " I murmured. Slowly he drew closer to my face and tentatively, gently kissed me on the lips. I drew his face closer and kissed him back, my tongue probing and dancing with mis. "Mmmm! he groaned lightly. He drew away and with his tongue traced an erotic tattoo over my face, ears and neck. I was writhing with delight at his light flickering tongue. He lifted my arm and laved my pit with his broad tongue. "Ahhhh!" I reacted and my body torqued, involuntarily. We were side by side, facing each other's rigid cocks. Instantly I swallowed his hard dick and began to suck and tongue it! "Ahhhh!" he gasped and returned the favor. For long minutes we imparted the most exquisite pleasure to the other. Groans and moans punctuated each new or repeated motion. We drifted on the most luxurious sea of delight. Then he popped off my cock and began to lick my balls. My balls are incredibly sensitive and his tongue brought gasp after gasp from my cock-filled mouth. Involuntarily I raised my leg. I suppose to afford him cleared access to my balls. He twisted around. His cock slipped from my mouth as he gently moved me onto my back. With gentle pressure he spread my thighs, lowered his face and returned to licking my now-puckered ball-sack. "Ohhhh! Gawd!" It was wonderful. His tongue touched that unbelievably sensitive area just behind my balls. I gasped "Ahhhh!" and involuntarily drew my knees up. The Prof grasped my thighs and . . . . Oh, my gawd! Bolts of lightening shot through my body! My belly muscles contracted in exquisite delight. I writhed at the sheer pleasure as he tongued my tight, sphinctered hole. I had experienced numerous and wondrous sensations in the few times Ty and I had our get-togethers--sensuous explorations. But never anything like this! I guess Ty had realized that my experience with Dane was such as to make any forays to this nether region unacceptable. And, furthermore, the thought of fucking another guy was simply not a priority. And, being fucked was repugnant to me. I had heard of rimming. I had read about this technique in the various sex manuals that I had perused over the years, but it elicited absolutely no interest in me! Yet, here I was being transported to realms heretofore unknown. I knew not what he was doing specifically. Whatever it was, it was fantastically, incredibly delightful. "Ohhhh! Gawd!" I nearly yelled as my head whipped back and forth. "Ohhhh! Jeeze!" as his tongue laved and probed. He stopped for an instant. I know now he stuck his finger into his mouth, anointing it with his saliva. Then I felt a pressure against my tight hole. His tonguing, and probing, and lapping had relaxed that muscled ring somewhat. I felt an invasion--his finger. Suddenly, that violation in the high school showers flashed, with all its pain and profanity flashed across my mind's eye. "NO!" I shouted, "Don't do that!" In one violent, instinctive reflex I had pushed back and away from the profaning finger and found myself sitting up, by back against the headboard. Prof Kim, in shock, had not moved. He looked up at me from the center of the bed, his legs hanging over the foot. He was completely incredulous. "Sorry," I rasped, and added, "I can't stand that!" His look of utter consternation melted away and was replaced by concern. Deliberately he crawled up beside me and enfolded me in his arms to comfort my obvious agitation. Somehow he had opined that something had happened to me that made his action totally unacceptable. "Brad, I'm sorry . . . . I'm sorry I upset you," He said quietly as he rocked my quaking body in his arms. Then he added, "I only wanted to give you pleasure . . . my sweet . . . young man." He was so gentle. He was so understanding. I was totally deflated. But his solicitous words and actions calmed my triggered reaction. Uncontrolled and unintended tears flowed down my cheeks. I am not prone to tears. It is not that I have control of my emotions. It is not that I am so macho that I won't allow them. Why? He gently kissed the tears away as he continued to rock me in his arms. I was embarrassed over my reactions. Embarrassed at the fact that I had inadvertently upset him. He had been so gentle in all that he had done. I was sure that I had offended him. Quietly he held me. My tears ceased and my adrenaline infused body returned to normal. "I'm sorry," I stated, "I don't know why I reacted that way!" "That's OK, Brad," he admitted quietly, "Many of us have . . . . certain . . . . barriers." "Yeah . . ." Ge continued the gentle rocking. Then, after a minute or so, "Do you want to talk about it?" he queried quietly. Somehow his gentleness, his obvious concern, his non aggressiveness unlocked that door. I had told Ty about what had happened to me, but no one else. I found myself relating my experience to Prof Kim. The words tumbled out of my mouth. With a deep sigh, I finished my confession. He said nothing, only gave me a tight hug as if saying, "I understand." Then he said, "Move down, Brad, let me cover you." I did and he quietly drew the sheet and blanked up over me. Quickly he got up, padded to the switch, turned off the lights and returned to the bedside. He slipped in beside me, again enfolded me in his arms. The warmth of his body, the gentleness of this man was soothing to me. "Mmmmm." He gently kissed me on the forehead and whispered, "Go to sleep, my sweet, young man." I did. . . in moments. When I awoke the next morning, Prof Kim was gone. A couple of weeks later, I got a phone call. "Hello?" "Brad?" "Yes." "This is George Kim . . ." "Oh, hello, Prof." I had never know the Prof's first name and the revelation took me back a bit. "It's nice to hear from you." "Brad, I'm coming to O.U. tomorrow for some research. Are you free for lunch?" "Ah, yeah, I am" "Can we have lunch together?" "I'd like that." "Good, 12:00 noon, the Union Dining Room? Would that be acceptable?" "Sure, I'll meet you there." "Fine, 'til tomorrow, then." I was at the Union a few minutes before noon. Punctuality had been ingrained in me since childhood. Prof Kim appeared precisely at 12:00. Guess punctuality meant something to him too. "Hello, Brad," he greeted me with a firm hand shake and a smile. "Hi, Prof," I returned the greeting. "Are you hungry?" "Yeah." "Good. Let's go in," and he led the way to the dining room. We had an unhurried lunch. We chatted. He quizzed me about my studies . . . almost professorially. I asked him about his research too--something to do with the autonomic nervous system. Prof Kim's area tended to be theoretic. After that night in Columbus, my mind returned again and again to the Prof. I tried to analyze what had happened that night and my initial reactions to his advances. I knew why I reacted the way I did to his fingering. But why had I enjoyed, or allowed, or participated in our coupling? I had seen plenty of younger guys who caught my attention, but never an older guy. Older? Hell, he was old enough to me my father! I had never considered an Oriental man for a possible coupling. As a matter of fact, I had never considered a black man either--until Ty! Actually, other than Ty, I had never wanted, or allowed myself to be touched by or interested in an other man until the Prof. Yet, when he called yesterday about the lunch, my mind kept returning to this man. Why? During coffee, I had gotten up enough nerve to ask, "Why did you leave the other night?" I could tell my question was unexpected. His eyes darted to mine and locked on to them. After a moment's hesitation he answered, "I thought . . . I thought . . . that . . . after all you had drunk so much . . . you might not want to wake . . . with me next to you!" I understood his trepidation. Accepting an older man in a state of alcohol induced eroticism was not the same as accepting an older man in a sober state. I simply stated, "Not so." Prof Kim merely smiled. I could tell he was relieved, even pleased a little. Without totally thinking, I asked, "Do you have plans for dinner?" His eyebrows raised, questioningly, "No . . . other than to finish here this afternoon and go back to Columbus." "Good, then let me treat you to dinner! Must repay you for the lunch!" I said brightly. "That's not necessary, Brad," he said with a smile! "Ah, but I want to!" and added, "Will you be free at 6:00?" "Yes," he said simply. "Good," I took a slip of paper from my notebook, scribbled down my address, phone number and a simple map. "Hope you don't mind home cooking?" I said. I handed him the paper, "Here's my address and a map. . . . my number too, if you should get lost!" "Not at all, I like home cooking," he admitted, then on the lighter side, "You do know how to cook?" "Sure do!" We went our way. I hurried to the store and got something for dinner. Don't know why I did that! Decided on something simple. . . . steak, potatoes and salad . . . and a bottle of red wine. Went home and tidied up a bit. At 6:00 there was a knock on the door of my small apartment. I opened it to the smiling face of Prof Kim. He handed me a bottle of wine . . . red . . . and stepped in. "Thanks . . . glad you could make it, Prof," and I gave him a quick but firm hug. "Brad, can I ask you a favor?" "Yeah, Prof . . . . Sure. What?" "Please, call me, George. The Prof thing is no longer applicable," he said with a knowing smile. "OK . . . . George," and I gave him a lingering kiss. I had subconsciously wanted him, I guess. Nothing was really planned. But plenty happened! We didn't have dinner 'til 8:00. . . . after an incredibly hot get-together. We both experienced a roaring orgasm, together. He was still incredibly gentle and let things proceed at my pace. And, he did rim me again. Damn, I loved that! At the end, my hole was spasming! Later, as we were sitting at the table, after dinner in our briefs, I said, "Got to tell you something . . . . George. Hope you don't think me too forward, . . . but you really turned me on!" He smiled broadly, "Couldn't you tell that I had the same reaction?" I grinned. During our frenetic love making he was quite vocal . . . not only groaning and moaning, but he told me what pleasure I was giving him. I liked that. Ty used to do the same thing, and, come to think of it, so did Delphine. "Yeah . . . And . . . when you licked . . . tongue me . . . I thought I would go crazy . . . I began to spasm . . .!" Again, he smiled, "I'm glad you enjoyed . . . and, yes, I could feel your spasms." I merely smiled. "You know, Brad . . . I know what trauma you experienced. I can imagine how horrible it was." He stopped and sipped his coffee. I sensed that he was unsure of continuing! "What? . . . What were you going to say?" "I only want to say that someday . . . . you might find great pleasure . . . in . . . . anal sex." I couldn't think about it . . . not now! I got up, nervously, cleared the table and stacked the dishes in the sink. George came up behind me as I was placing the glasses in the sink, put his arms around me, kissed me on the neck and said, "Don't let what I said bother you, Brad." "It doesn't," I lied. I turned around enfolded him and kissed him squarely on the lips, hot, moist and probing. "Damn!" I said as I pushed him back! "What?" he asked. As I was kissing him, I felt the unmistakable hardening of his cock. "For a guy your age, you sure are horny," I snorted, cupping his swelling cock in my hand. "Ah! But, it's all your fault," he said with a grin as he cupped my lengthening cock. Quickly he dropped to his knees, deftly lowering my bulging briefs and, just as quickly, sucked me deep into his mouth. "Ahhhh!" I gasped. He began to suck me in earnest there in my small kitchen. "Not here . . . lets go back to the bed." We did, and soon we were locked in a forceful sixty-nine position. He lifted my thigh. I knew what he was going to do! I grasped him tightly and turned on my back. His knees bracketed my head and I held his cock in my mouth. I spread my legs apart and drew my knees up, exposing, as best I could, my puckered hole. He began to lick and probe it as he had done before. "Arghhh!" I groaned, my mouth cock-filled. He continued and as he did, I sucked him even harder, deeper, licking his cock at the same time inside my mouth. I could feel him replace his tired tongue with a finger. Gently, lightly he ran the tip of that finger around my tight hole, and then back and forth over it. My hole began to spasm. At no time did he attempt to push it in. "Ahhhh!" I groaned. The sensation was so damned . . . erotic . . . so luxurious! My muscled whole was in a paroxysm of delight. I could barely stand it. Then I released of his cock and gasped, "Do it." "Do what, Brad?" I know now, he knew what I wanted. I also know now that he was smart enough to have me ask for it! I took a deep breath and whispered, "Finger me!" I felt his tongue return to my spasming hole. I felt his thumbs on either side, spreading my hole open. I felt his tongue jab and probe that sensitive interior! "Oh, gawd," I was breathless. "Put it in!" came my equally breathless plea. He removed his tongue, laved his finger with copious amounts of saliva and gently pushed into my half-opened hole. At first I wanted to move away, instinctively. I clamped my sphincter tight. "Relax, George, relax my sweet young man." His soothing voice had the desired result. I relaxed and felt his finger slip into me. "Ahhhh!" I groaned. "You all right?" "Yesss," I replied. He moved his bracketing knees and swung over my knee so that he was now between my legs. All this without removing his finger. Then he bent over my half hard cock and sucked it all, deep into his mouth! "Ahhhh!" I gasped as he began to suck my cock in earnest. Then, slowly, ever so slowly he slid his finger farther in and then began a slow, even, gentle fucking motion in consort with his mouth! "Oh, gawd," I was breathless. I didn't know what was more lascivious--his mouth or his finger. I was on the verge of a cosmic explosion. I guess he sensed it. Slowly he withdrew his finger and my hole closed. Slowly he withdrew his mouth from my cock. I opened my eyes and regarded him. He was flushed and smiling at me and at my reaction. "Did you enjoy that?" "Oh, yes." "Did my finger give you pleasure, Brad?" "Yes." "I told you that you might find great pleasure . . . in anal sex." "Yes," and I added, "I liked it." "It can be wonderful," he stated simply. Then I saw him glance towards my bedside table. There was a lamp, an alarm clock, kleenex and a bottle of hand lotion. The latter, I used mainly when I masturbated--usually nightly. He reached for the lotion, squirted a dollop into his hand and anointed my cock with it. The sensation of his warm hand and the cool lotion caused me to, "Sssssss," a deep breath. He smiled. "I want to show you what pleasure this can give me," he said nodding at my cock. Then he squeezed another dollop onto his fingers and reached behind him. I knew what he was doing. I was apprehensive, to say the least. My experience in the shower room precluded any thought or desire for anal intercourse. I remembered how surprised Delphine was when I vehemently objected to fucking her in the ass. I guess my apprehension was mirrored in the fact that my cock began to go slack. Quickly he brought his hand to my cock and moved it up and down the lubricated shaft. With his other hand, he rubbed a finger over my already sensitized ass hole. Quickly I sprang back to a full erection. He pulled my legs down, straight then straddled my hips. I watched and tried not to go soft again. I had come to want to give George as much pleasure as he had given me. After all, he was right about finger-fucking me. It was . . . . Great! He reached between his legs, grasped my rigid pole, brought it in contact with his lubed. I lay motionless. "Just let me do it, Brad . . . . your pretty big . . . and . . . I don't do this often." I continued to lay allowing him all the control. The pressure on my cock-head grew. Suddenly that muscled gave way and my mushroom-head popped past the initial opening. "Arghhh!" we both groaned simultaneously. On my part, it was from the sheer fabulous, new sensation. On his part? I'm not sure. I watched his face. His eyes were closed as if in deep concentration and his chest heaved slowly and rhythmically. Later he would tell me that taking deep breaths helps to relax you and rush oxygen through your body. Then he bore down again and stopped. Nearly half my cock was buried up his tight, hot ass. Finally, after taking deep breaths, he bore down one last time. He had become completely impaled upon my cock. Two, three, four more deep breaths and then he opened his eyes, focused on my eyes and smiled. "There . . . all the way in," and his smiled broadened to a grin. He bent over and kissed me squarely on the lips. Then he whispered in my ear, "Does it feel as good to you as it does to me?" "Oh, Yes!" Then he sat up and began to lift of and slowly sit down in a slow fucking motion. "Ahhhh! Gawd, that's nice!" I gasped. He continued his movement. Soon I was flexing my buttocks upward to meet his downward movement. Smiling at my newly learned technique--I was a quick learner--he asked, "Do you like the feel of your cock fucking my ass, Brad?" "Yesss!" then, I asked, with a mirrored smile, "Do you like your ass fucking my cock?" I realize the meaning of the verb 'to fuck.' The dictionary defines it as "to have sexual intercourse with someone." Normally it is used and/or applied by the male and the action of an erect penis--the active member upon a passive receptacle. But, I think the operative term is 'active member.' I was passively laying there with an erect cock and George was actively fucking my cock with his ass. George smiled. Later he was to tell me that he caught the subtle distinction. He sped up his pummelling of my cock. I watched and met each downward drive with an equally forceful upward thrust. He was giving me supreme pleasure. Then I reached for his cock and began to manipulate it--to hand-fuck his cock. "Arghhh!" he groaned with delight. George had a nice cock, uncut and hard as a rock. He was not as big as me, not that that has anything to do with our pleasure, but it was nice! And, I loved how my mouth and now my hand gave him obvious pleasure. As he sped up his fucking motion, I reciprocate with my thrusts and hand motion. I was rising to the point of no return when he stated, "I'm about to . . . CUM!" The last word was yelled and jet after jet of opalescent, lustral fluid shot from his cock and spattered on my belly and chest. Simultaneously his sphincter spasmed violently pushing me over the edge. "ARGHHH!" I groaned loudly as my cock spasmed deep in him. George fell forward onto my cum-spattered chest. "Oh, Brad . . . that was wonderful!" "Yeah," was all I could say. We lay that way for long minutes. His breathing became shallow and regular, I knew that he had fallen asleep on me, connected chest to chest and belly to belly by the copious amount of his cum and my now limp cock still encased in that luscious prison. It was nice. I know that is a 'dumb' word, but, it was nice! After about fifteen minutes he awoke with a start. "I fell asleep!" "Yeah, I know," I answered with a smile and kissed his forehead. "I should shower and get going," he admitted. "Yeah, we both need a shower," I admitted and added, "But, why drive back now? Can you spend the night or do you have an early appointment?" "No . . . I mean, I don't have an early appoint, and. . . . Yes, I would love to spend the night here with you." "Good, but there is ONE requirement!" "Oh?" his eyes widened apprehensively. "Yeah! You don't sneak out in the middle of the night." George laughed in relief, and stated, "Not tonight, my sweet young man." That said he kissed me gently on the lips lifted up and moved off the bed. My cock slipped from his ass and flopped against my thigh! He smiled and said, "You know that's the first time I have seen that soft." He patted my cock and walked quickly to the bathroom. I wanted to shower with him--would be a nice way to cap off the evening. But, again, knowing the Oriental modesty, I deferred and waited 'til he was done. He came back to the bed, towel-wrapped and I quickly took my shower and returned without the aid of a towel shroud. George was already in bed, laying on his back. I crawled in and he held me like he did that night in Columbus. I don't know who went to sleep first! I had an incredibly erotic dream--like the dreams I used to have in my teens--a wet dream--before I discovered the joys of masturbation. And, like those youthful dreams I began to, reluctantly move towards wakefulness. As I drew to full consciousness, I mused about the past evening, I was on my side, my usual position and George was spooned against my back with his arm around my chest. It was a wonderful feeling. One that heretofore, I had never experienced. With Ty, we would have our steamy get-togethers and then retreat to our own beds. With Delphine? There was never a question or an opportunity so sleep the night through with her. I clutched George's arm and snuggled back, even closer to him. It was then I realized that he was rock hard and his cock was sandwiched in my ass crack. At first a shiver raced through me. But he was motionless and lightly snoring. It was completely involuntary. Then the relict of the dream came back to me and I was infused with a warmth I had not experienced before. For some inexplicable reason, I arched my back slightly 'til the tip of his hard cock came into contact with my puckered hole. Again a shiver . . . but this time the fear, the revulsion had dissipated. I moved my hips again, George continued to snore, but hugged me tighter and pushed closer against ass-cheeks. His cock-head grazed my clenched, puckered orifice. Shivers of desire raced through my being. Here I was in bed with a man, who hours before we had come together--not once but twice. He had introduced me quietly, gently to pleasures I had not dared to admit existed. Here I was in bed with a man whose sleep hardened cock was grazing my ass hole. And, I was aroused. Why? Was it because, at this point I was in control of the situation? Maybe. Deep inside a germ of desire had been born and was growing rapidly. Quietly I reached for the hand lotion, anointed my fingers, raised my leg and slathered them against my quaking hole. Carefully I inserted a finger into my ass. I had never done that before. And, to tell the truth the feeling was not dissimilar to when George had fingered me earlier. Slowly I pushed deeper and revealed in the feeling. Had I become an auto-erotic? George's hand and not moved from around my chest, his body retained the same position as before and his breathing was the same. I deposited and other dollop on my puckered hole, lowered my leg and pushed back, slowly. My hand was still between my legs as I guided his hardened cock towards my closed hole. I pushed harder and suddenly felt his cock-head pop passed the muscled opening. I gasped. I must say, the initial feeling was not altogether without discomfort. Still I held the course and eventually pushed back further. More of his hardened cock entered. Again I gasped, quietly. Then I felt George's hand tighten around my chest and was surprised by, "Relax, my sweet young man. Take deep breaths and relax," came the whisper. He was awake. "I didn't mean to wake you," I apologized in a low voice. "Not to worry, Brad. This is the best way to wake up!" Since he was awake, I felt to compunction to be so careful. So, I pushed my hips back further, with more force. "Does it hurt?" "Not really," I admitted, "But it feels . . . strange." He kissed my on the back of the neck and asked, "You feel . . . stuffed?" "Yeah . . . . stuffed," I admitted. "I did too, the first time." We just lay there for a few minutes--interlocked. Then I began to flex my hips forward and backward--fucking his cock. I began to feel his thrusts as I arched backwards. "Mmmmm!" I groaned. "You want me to stop?" "No . . . . it feels . . . . nice." I stopped flexing my hips, my back was arched so as to expose my hole to his thrusting cock. "It feels so nice." Slowly, gently, George pushed his cock in and out of my eroticized love-tunnel. It wasn't long before he rasped, "Brad . . . . I'm about to cum!" "Yesss, fuck me George . . . . fuck my ass!" I never thought I would ever say that! And, he did. One, two more deep, virile thrusts and I felt my breath pushed out of me by his strong, hugging arm, and, "ARGHHH!" Strangely, I felt his cock spasming inside of me as he released shot after shot of hot cum. Then he went limp. "Oh, my sweet, sweet man!" he whispered. "You have given me a most wonderful gift!" He hugged me close again. Even though I had not achieved release, I felt strangely satisfied. I went to sleep with George still inside me. George and I met frequently that semester, either at my small apartment or at his in Columbus. Some of the times we made love, some of the times we just talked. And, I guess we learned a lot about ourselves. He was a phenomenal mentor. I have visited with him a few times when I've gone back home to visit my parents. Belston is that that far from home. Three things he taught me that has stayed with me 'til now. First, age is no barrier. George was over thirty years older than I was when we coupled together. Tangentially, he taught me not to be cock-centered. Now, I must admit, Ty's dick was a thing to behold, to play with and to suck. In comparison George would have to be considered on the smaller side, but still a nice mouthful, and, I learned, a most pleasurable thing when he was fucking me. Secondly, he taught me gentleness and the fact that a person's pleasure is exponentially increased by the pleasure you give your partner. There were several times that we were together that one or the other of us did not achieve orgasm. Yet, I, and I think he, was always satisfied in one way or another. Finally, I learned that bisexuality is not as much a curse as many believe. True, one must strike a balance. George's was on the side of his family, I knew that. Mine? I have yet to find out.