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3

 

"We have time for one more," Logan said, pointing to my black journal.

"Okay," I relented. It seemed as if we were going to make it through my book of sexual conquests, whether I wanted to or not.

"Number three. Preston Crowther. Five foot, eleven. Beard. Five inches hard. Not exactly sure soft. Thick cock. Manly bush. Watery cum. Great balls. Freshman."

Logan's gaze indicated for me to continue.

"We were both freshmen," I said. "I had been at the university for maybe a month."

"Was this a relationship?"

"Oh no. One night."

"Just one?"

"Yeah. It was a great night. The next morning not so much."

"Explain."

"Preston was rather shy, I guess. He had watched an LGBT event from afar. The group was outside for the first event. He was too afraid to join in. But he was curious as to what the get togethers were like."

"And how did you meet?" Logan asked.

"I'm not exactly sure. I just remember talking in the cafeteria. I guess he just came up to me and started talking one time. It seems like we just would see each other there."

"But ... it turned sexual?"

"It did. I think Preston had to work up the courage to talk about it. We'd probably seen each other a half dozen times or so in the caf' before he admitted he saw me at the LGBTQ event. I nodded that I was there and asked him what he thought of it. He admitted he wasn't actually in attendance but was curious to look on. His confession intrigued me."

"How so?"

"He admitted he had zero experience, but he knew what he was feeling. Now I remember; it was National Coming Out Day, and he knew he needed to do something. I acknowledged his courage. He said his parents would never approve."

"I see."

Logan jotted himself another note.

"Did you feel ... more ... experienced in that way?"

"Not so much the experience as it was the acceptance. I knew I was gay. I was okay with it."

"Had you come out to anyone besides your high school boyfriends?"

"Well, I was at the event, so all those people could assume. But I hadn't really told anyone that I knew as a friend. Preston did have me thinking. I called Mom and Dad that weekend and came out to them."

"And how did they react?"

"Great actually. They said they loved me just as I was. They even thanked me for telling them."

"You were fortunate. From my end, I can confirm that your outcome isn't always the case."

"Your parents didn't accept you?" I asked Logan.

"Not me. I meant other patients."

"Ah." I thought back to college. "You've met my parents. They aren't bad."

"Right. I remember I went home with you that one weekend." Logan pointed at me with his glasses. "But back to you."

"When I saw Preston next, I told him I had decided to come out to my parents. He seemed riveted to the details. I had sort of a personal pride during that dinner."

"But the two of you weren't seeing each other."

"No. Not at that time." I tried to recall what exactly happened. "I guess after talking over several dinners, I finally asked Preston if he'd like to go out."

"Even though he was shy?"

"I think because he was shy. It was adorable in a way, plus I think I really wanted to help him become comfortable with his true self."

"Noble." Logan took a moment to jot something down.

Images of Preston came to my mind. I could still picture him. It was so many years ago, but I still recalled getting the impression that Preston was happy that the two of us went out on a date. It was only a movie, but afterward we kissed.

"After two dates, I wanted more than just kissing. I wasn't necessarily hot for Preston, but he was attractive enough."

Logan raised an eyebrow and jotted something else.

"Do I get to ever see what you write down?"

"No," Logan said in quick response. "Then what happened?"

"I told him my roommate was going home for the weekend. I asked if he wanted to sleep over that Saturday night."

"Privacy."

"Yeah. Preston turned it over in his head for a long time. I think he was both excited and nervous."

"Isn't everybody before their first time?"

I paused. "Interestingly, I wasn't nervous with Preston. I wasn't really with Oran or Nick either. I was just excited for it to happen."

"Do you think he was ready?"

I thought back to that night. "Yeah. I think so. Preston was the type that would have turned me down if he wasn't. Or so I thought."

"What does that mean?"

"I'll get to that."

 

Preston brought a gym bag to my room. It had some toiletries and a change of clothes for tomorrow.

It was 10:30. Once I shut my dorm room door, we began kissing. I finally hit the lights.

"Wait," Preston said. "Let me brush my teeth."

I snickered. "Good plan."

We both did so in my room, but then we quickly rushed down the hall to pee too.

Back in the room, I turned off the lights again. My roommate and I had bunk beds. His was the upper one, thank heaven. We kicked off our shoes, and I pulled us down onto the lower bunk. We kissed for a few minutes. My hand reached down to feel if his crotch was hard. My assumption was confirmed. My actions apparently gave him permission to feel mine. My dick had been a flashlight since the first seconds of our kissing.

I reached down and pulled my shirt over my head, throwing it on the floor. Preston hesitated. I knew he wanted to, but he was reluctant to get undressed.

"May I?" I offered, placing my fingers under the bottom of his shirt.

"Yeah," he breathed. It was almost like he held his breath as I removed his shirt.

"Ooo, your chest is hairier than mine," I said, stroking my fingers across his pecs.

"Thanks. It's really grown in the past few months."

"Nice."

My chest hadn't really. There was a little there, but not a lot. I was envious.

 

"Getting undressed with Preston was a turn-on," I said to Logan. "Nick and I were in the showers first, and Oran and I just undressed. With Preston, I was the one that physically undressed him."

 

"I like you," Preston whispered.

"I like you too."

I unfastened my fly. My hands reached over to Preston's jeans and did the same. We didn't go farther. We just kissed some more. Kissing then added groping. We touched and felt and roamed. Our bare torsos were fair game as our hands explored. My cock was begging to burst out of confinement.

We hadn't said anything. We just kissed more passionately. I let my tongue crusade into his mouth; he eagerly approved. Our mouths separated and we panted near each other's ear. It was hot. We were hot.

I caused our bodies to recline. My hand searched for his erection again. I found the bulging denim in his jeans and just felt it from the outside for a minute. Preston moaned.

His hands clutched my face, and we made out some more as I felt him up. I needed to feel his actual rigid skin. I unzipped his fly. He whimpered into his kiss. I used my fingers to grip both his briefs and jeans and began pulling them down. He lifted his hips to allow me to pull harder. I got them about a foot down. His dick sprang out and slapped his belly. I got off the bed to pull them completely off. Preston was naked in my bed except for his socks. I left them on.

"Can I undress you?" he asked.

"Absolutely," I tried to say in my sexiest voice.

He fumbled with my fly. I finally stood, so that he could manipulate all the components that were imprisoning my erection in denim jail. My jeans were pulled down, and my cock aimed skyward like a fighter jet. I lifted my feet one at a time as he shimmied the fabric down my legs.

I pulled the two of us back onto the bed. He accidentally bumped his head on the frame of the upper bunk. We giggled.

I felt a hand wrap around my cock. I moaned in approval. My grip found his throbbing rod.

"You're long," he said.

"You're thick," I returned.

We resumed kissing as we groped the other's genitals.

"Does this feel good?" I asked him, our lips pressing together in a feathery touch. "Do you like it?"

My fingers stroked his stiff bat.

"So good," he whispered into a kiss.

"Good."

I took my hand and pressed it to his chest, making him lie down on my bed. I crawled on top of him, and we dry humped our crotches into each other while I kissed him some more.

Then I raised my body as best as I could with the bed above me. I shimmed backward until I could lean over his crotch.

My tongue found his engorged organ and licked it top to bottom. Preston breathed in the entire supply of oxygen in the room. Then my mouth surrounded his flesh. His skin was warm, my mouth was warm. Our interaction was warm.

"Oh man," he said, feeling his cock inside my mouth. "Wow."

I hummed a sound of pleasing approval directly into his dick. It was a Tootsie Pop. It was ice cream. It was chicken soup. It was male cock.

His girth made it harder to swallow, but I managed fine. His body language indicated I was doing an acceptable job.

Preston rubbed my shoulders as I serviced him. He panted throughout his first blowjob.

 

"I knew it was his first time. In my mind, I wanted it to be special. I kept things gradual, slow. We didn't maul each other. It lasted a long time."

"Sounds very nice. I think that was considerate of you."

"We could have been animals," I told Logan. "But I didn't think that was who Preston was. We just made it last."

 

I had been sucking on his cock for several minutes. His hands moved from rubbing my shoulders to caressing the sides of my neck. Then I felt his fingers grace my cheeks as I continued to bob up and down on his erection. I hadn't shaved, so there was slight scruff. Preston's fingers sifted through my hair. I loved that. I sucked more firmly, and his body began to writhe.

Almost dramatically, his hands gripped my shoulders and pulled me off. "Stop!"

I looked alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I – I – I just was getting too close. As much as I wanted to get off, I ..." Preston paused. "I didn't want to be done."

I smiled. "I understand."

"My turn?" He smiled and kissed me.

We switched places. His hand found my cock again.

"You're so big."

"You're so thick."

Preston stared at my erection almost in disbelief. I wondered if it was the first hard penis he had ever seen in real life. It possibly was.

"I – I've wanted to do this for so long."

He felt me. He stroked me. He tasted me. He wrapped his mouth over my dick and consumed me. He moaned like he had tasted the first slice of cheesecake in his life.

"Yeahhhh," I breathed.

With some hesitation, he sucked me slowly at first. As he got into it, he started working my cock faster.

"Preston," I whispered in appreciation. "Ohhh yeaaaaahhhhh."

His teeth accidentally scraped my skin. I jolted.

He took his mouth off my organ. "Sorry. I'll make sure I don't do that again. Sorry."

He went to a slower pace again. In reality, I preferred that. My hand felt his head; my thumb rubbed circles into his hair.

"That's nice, Preston. It feels really good."

He hummed in response.

I began to participate more and thrust upward into his throat. I fucked his mouth. My participation made it even more gratifying.

"Fuck yeah," I said. "Fuck yeah!!"

Then I wondered if anyone could hear, and I immediately remembered my parents and became supremely quiet again.

"OooooOOOoooh," I cooed. "I'm getting close, Preston."

He stopped. I didn't know if he wanted to prolong our pleasure or if he didn't want me to come in his mouth.

He moved up to kiss me. My arms were wrapped around him. We made out passionately. I pushed my tongue onto his. We softly moaned into each other. My cock rubbed into his body.

Even though I was no longer receiving oral stimulation, the electricity was still pulsing through me. I pushed my cock harder into his hip. I grabbed his ass and thrust harder.

"I'm gonna come," I panted.

I did.

Milky liquid sprayed between us.

"Ohhhhhh fuck, yeah. I'm coooooommmminggggg."

Spurt after spurt shot from me. It was a fierce orgasm. I fired cum for a long time. For me, at least. It was on him; it was on me; it was on the sheets.

 

 

"It's funny. In my younger days, I would really spray cum when I ... well, came. As I got older, it was more of an oozing, dribbling kind of climax."

"Specific. Okay," Logan said flatly. "But the two of you didn't date for a while?"

 

"That was hot," he said. He leaned up to see what he could of my cum in the dark room.

I wiped it from my chest with my hand and grabbed his dick, now with my own male lubricant on my fingers. He gasped feeling it.

"Pull hard," he instructed.

I pounded his defenseless meat. His firm flesh was warm. He maneuvered onto his back. Leaning on his elbows, he fucked my fist. He panted so hard; I thought Preston might hyperventilate.

"Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Oh yeah."

His hips bucked and worked in tandem with my stroking grip.

"Mitchell, Mitchell, Mitchell ... oooooooooooooOOOOHHHH!"

Preston exploded. It was a volcano. Even in the darkness, I could sense his eruption. His semen was thinner than mine. Eventually, his cum stopped spewing.

"Fuck yeah," I whispered.

"Totally," he said, collapsing onto my mattress.

I rubbed his cum in my fingers. Then I tasted it. It was pretty much like mine in that regard.

We kissed rabidly. Our bodies smeared the contents of our lustful acrobatics.

Finally, I got up to get us a washcloth. He giggled as I cleaned his body.

We turned out the lights again once we were clean.

"Let me hold you," I said.

He wriggled into my embrace. I fondled his balls. They felt really nice — loose, hairy, fun.

"Good night," I whispered into his ear.

"Good night," he whispered back.

 

—

 

I heard the rustling of movement near my bed. I opened my eyes. I blinked the sleep out of them. I could see Preston quickly putting his clothes on.

"What's up?" I asked.

He looked frantic.

"Last night was a mistake."

I sat up. I looked at him confused. "But – but you liked it."

"I know. I'm ashamed. I'm not proud of what we did. It was sinful. My parents would hate me. God hates me. We never should have done it. I'm so ashamed. I woke up and realized how ... weak I was to temptation."

"Hey, hey," I whispered. "We both wanted it. It's okay."

"It's not okay! My parents would be disgusted with me. I'm going to church."

"Church?"

"I feel like I need to. I need to pray for God to forgive me. I let Him down."

 

"No, we didn't date. He freaked out the next morning. Almost panicky. I got the impression he was raised in a very religious household. He just freaked saying he felt sinful."

"Man. That's rough."

"He was in a bad place. He went on about letting God down. He must have avoided me in the cafeteria after that. I didn't see him again."

"Never?"

"No. Well, actually ..."

I remembered.

"It was our senior year, like three years later," I continued. "I bumped into him. There was that delayed reaction of recognition. A woman came up, and he introduced her as his fiancé."

"Interesting."

That entire encounter came flooding back. His look was so intense, I was unsure what it meant. Did it say:

Don't tell her what we did.
Don't think bad of me.
Please allow me to live life as I choose.
Forgive me for my actions three years ago.
Isn't she pretty?
I'm sorry for leaving you like I did.

Or all of that or none of that.

"Mitchell?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry. I just remember how that morning — and then seeing him years later in a straight world hit me."

"Tell me."

"Well, that morning, he just rushed out of my room after working himself into a lather. I woke up at about 4:30. I looked at the clock, Then I felt his arm around me. It was nice. We both were naked. It had been a really nice ... well, night of sex. I knew it was only his first time, but ... he did well."

"What did you feel when he reacted the way he did the following morning?"

"Sort of overwhelmed. When he left, I didn't get up. I just lay there feeling like I had been hit by a truck. I mean, he enjoyed it. We made out! He wanted it to last. Then, the next morning, it was like a different person."

"I can't say that is completely uncommon. Lust drives us to do things we regret."

"So, I'm regrettable?"

"I didn't mean it that way. But ... to be blunt, lust led you to cheat on Cooper, and you completely regret that."

"I do."

"Tell me about your feelings then."

"I tried to make sense of it. I mean, he wanted it. There was no mistake. But after sleeping on it, and him rushing off to church, I wondered if he would ever have sex again."

"I'm sure it was a pivotal moment in his moral structure."

"But ... I then realized something after he stormed out. He was ashamed. He was afraid. I wasn't."

"Go on."

"I loved it. I knew I loved sex. I was in college, and I was going to unmistakably enjoy sex. I wanted a LOT of it. Preston didn't throw me. I didn't feel bad about doing it with him. I didn't feel ashamed. I felt ... confident in who I was. Honestly, I probably felt a little sorry for him."

"And three years later?"

"Totally felt sorry for him. I knew he was going to be living a lie. He was gay. No question. Trying to fake it with a woman ... I just figured both would get hurt. But who knows? Maybe he made it work. He could be bi. Who am I to judge?"

Logan looked at his watch. "Well, our time is pretty much up. This was a good first session."

"It was?"

"Sure."

"But ... we didn't really talk about Cooper. Why can't I get over him?"

"You didn't expect all your issues to be solved in one session, did you?"

"No, but..."

"Let's review. You accepted in your adolescence that you were gay. You were comfortable in your own skin. You knew you were attracted to males. You felt confident in college and came out to your parents, who accepted you. You realized at 18 — or 19 — that you wanted sex to be a key factor in your life. And after a traumatic follow-up to a night of passion, you remained calm and accepted who you were. I think this is a good start."

"Okay."

I wasn't sure. We hardly talked about Cooper at all. At ALL! But I did admit to myself that talking about things in general with Logan felt good. I was indeed comfortable being gay, and I didn't ever try to hide it. But at the same time, I didn't really talk about it. Even with Cooper, I didn't talk about my past. When I saw him discover my black book and thumb through it, I didn't even really discuss things then. He knew it was private, so he didn't pry.

I didn't feel it appropriate to hug my therapist. If Logan and I had been out for drinks, we would have, but I just reached out my hand.

 

—

 

After dinner, I opened up Facebook and typed in Preston's name and our university. I was curious as to what I might find. After a minute, I found who I thought was Preston. It had been more than a decade since we saw each other, but I was pretty sure that was him. I looked at his profile.

Father of two.
Lives and works in Des Moines.
Volunteers at an animal shelter.
Got his degree in business management.

No mention of a wife. What should I read into that? Did he divorce because he admitted he was gay? Did she pass away unexpectedly? I could see a few pictures with his kids, but none with another man. Or woman. Was he happy? Did she find out? Was he still living a secret life?

I felt sorry for him. I wasn't sure why. He could be perfectly happy. I had no way of knowing.

I thought about sending a friend request, but then ... why would he want to talk to me? We were friends for all of two weeks and only went on a couple of dates. It was just "the night." And that was the end. What would it serve to reconnect? It'd be nice to know he was okay, but would he even tell me?

By the time I went to bed, I thought upon the therapy session with Logan. He thought it went well. Was this really going to help? Remembering Nick and Oran and Preston sidetracked me from my heartache of ruining things with Cooper. A little. For a minute. Maybe picturing myself with other men, rather than dwelling on the love of my life — fuck me for ruining it — might be healing. It was going to take a lot of healing. I still wouldn't go to Cooper's floor at work unless it was absolutely, vitally necessary.

I wanted him back, and I knew I could never get him back. Laramie or no Laramie, Cooper had trust issues before they became a couple.

Fuck me for ruining it all.

My mind pictured Preston's thick cock. I remembered it well, even though it was only one night in the dark. And Nick's penis. And Oran's dick. For one night, it was easy to get hard and jerk off without thinking of Cooper.

For one night.

 

 

* * * *

 

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