Date: Tue, 8 May 2007 23:26:18 -0400 From: Jake Toksmer Subject: College and Grad School 10 Before you all get started, let me first say thank you to everyone who wrote me, and those of you who didn't, after I finished the last "chapter." The amount of support you guys have shown is incredible, and I really appreciate it. It was hard to write, yes, and to answer some frequently asked questions: 1) Yes 2) Not really 3) Seven 4) Yes 5) Blue 6) The Knights Templar ;-) Seriously, thank you all, and hopefully you won't think too poorly of me for what I did after Jeremy passed away. Chapter 10: Out behind the Store Things were rough for me. I was not doing well - I was very sad, but it quickly turned to anger. I became so angry. And unfocused... after missing a few of weeks I had to simply drop out of school for the semester. I stayed in the apartment, though. I wasn't about to shaft Dave, Bobby and Will (Bobby and Will were my other two roommates now in the apartment now that we were off-campus) after coming back to school. I withdrew from Bobby and Will. I had been friends with them for the previous two years, and we were pretty good friends. Dave, since we shared a room, saw that I had a bunch of emotion that I wasn't letting out, and if I was, I wasn't letting it out in a healthy manner. He asked, but I wasn't able to talk about it - I was in such a state of denial about everything that I only talked to him about regular everyday stuff. I kept my student card and somehow it wasn't turned off. I still could go to the gym and use the facilities, plus get into school events for free. Not that I cared too much about school events. I pretty much went to the gym, played soccer with an intramural team, ran and swam... (as stereotypical as it is, I also was in the orchestra - I play the violin, viola, and the piano, but that's not terribly sexy now, is it?) I worked, of course. I needed someway to pay for my living expenses. My parents were very good about paying for my living when I was in school, but since I wasn't in class, they weren't paying. They did pay my rent for the first two months out of sheer sympathy, I think, but they really wanted me to come home. Or get back into the swing of things, which is why, I think, they left me to figure out the last month of the fall semester. Anyway, I worked. I went to a restaurant and worked as a waiter/cook/busboy - pretty much anything that was needed of me that night. It was nothing spectacular but I didn't have anything else to do. Except drink. I started drinking a lot. I often passed out rather than falling asleep. And I woke up next to all kinds of things. I slept with a few girls, romancing them one night only to discard them the next morning, and with lots and lots of guys, discarding them, too. I was trying to have fun, to replace the emptiness I felt. And once you start down that road, it's a long path back to feeling normal. Anyway, there was this guy that worked with me. His name was Gary and he was a cute, olive-skinned guy who looked like he might work out, dark hair, dark eyes, and about my height. I'd only ever seen him in his work clothes, and while he favored the smaller-than-necessary polo shirt, I couldn't quite tell how hot he might be. One night, after we had closed, we were taking the trash out to the dumpster. It was something that had to be done. It was a nice night - not cold, not hot (fall in the South is mild) - and we had tons of garbage to take out. We got out there and started tossing it over the edge of the top of the dumpster. After a couple of tosses, I took off my shirt and my undershirt. Gary definitely looked and then looked away. "What?" I said, "It's hot throwing this shit around." "Yeah, I guess..." he replied. We kept tossing our two big bins of garbage into the dumpster and then went back to fill them up again. I tossed my shirts onto the sideview mirror of my Rover as we walked back past it and then back into the restaurant to get more trash. This time, when we got out there, Gary tried to toss a bag that had the evening's soup in it. It tore and went all over him, soaking his shirt. I told him he might as well toss it to the side, and reluctantly he pulled it off his head and tossed it to the ground. He was pretty embarrassed, but shouldn't have been. He clearly worked out. I told him he looked good. "You look good, Gary." "Uh, um, thanks. I, uh, workout," he said. A moment later he added, "Looks like you do, too." "Yeah, heh," I replied, with a little wink. We continued throwing garbage until we were done with that round and headed back to the store (about a five minute walk across the parking lot). One more round to toss out, and we'd be done. We got it, headed back out, and tossed it into the dumpster. Then we climbed into the dumpster and started jumping up and down on the trash, compacting it a bit. We worked up quite a sweat in all of this, and when we climbed down, we were both soaked in sweat and panting hard. Gary looked at me and I looked at him, our chests rising and falling as we breathed heavily after all that movement. I walked over to him, and since I no longer cared about other people's thoughts, kissed him. He hesitated and tried to pull back, but I grabbed the back of his head and held him there. His breathing stayed hard as I broke the kiss off and kissed the side of his neck. One hand I left on the back of his head, and the other hand I shoved down the front of his pants. I grabbed his package - there was some definite movement there already - and started to squeeze and caress him. I walked him backwards to the side of the dumpster, up against the fence that we normally had closed in front of it, and really started messing with his dick, getting him nice and hard. I started undoing his belt and the buttons of his fly, then pushed his pants down and released his now throbbing cock as I got down on my knees. I looked up at him, saw a look of shock on his face, and then wrapped my mouth around his dick. I sucked and moved up and down his shaft, listening to his breathing getting faster and more erratic. I can't even remember how he tasted or smelled. I just remember sucking him off there in the parking lot, next to the dumpster. He came in mouth and I swallowed it all. He was breathing heavy and his eyes were closed when I had had enough and pulled my lips off his dick. I stood up, looked at him, and said, "See you tomorrow, Gary," and I walked off. I took the trash bin back to the restaurant, and heard him scrambling behind me. I parked the bin inside, then said my goodbyes to the people still working, and walked out. I went home, showered like normal after working, and went to bed. The next night, nothing happened. It was about a week until we worked together again. It was a bad night, too - surly customers and terrible service from the kitchen. Sure, Gary and I worked, and we took the trash out like we did before. It was colder, though, and I didn't feel like taking off my shirt. I also didn't really feel like sucking his dick - or anyone else's for that matter. So I went about my business and got ready to leave after we were completely finished and headed out to my SD1 (I called it Sid, by the way). Right as I got by the door Gary called out to me - he was crossing the parking lot in my direction. His truck was parked across from my Rover. "I, uh... wanted to, uh..." he stammered. "WHAT?" I said. He was a good-looking guy, but something of an idiot and I didn't have the patience. "Uh... nothing, nothing. I was just going to say, uh, that was cool the other night." "Yeah, it was nothing. I had a... craving, you could say," and I opened the driver's door to get into the car. "So, uh... I was thinking..." he stammered AGAIN. He had walked to the front of my car, heading in between them to go around to the driver's side of his truck and leave. I was irritated. "Spit it out, Gare." "I just liked it... I'd like to do it again... um... sometime." I sat there for a second, then said, "Okay, your place. I'll follow you. Let's go." He got an excited look on his face and we drove back to his house. It was his parents' house, actually, and he said so when I got out of the car in his driveway. "I don't guess we can, uh, do anything tonight. Sorry, dude," he said, indicating his parents cars in the driveway. I walked over to him, grabbed his hand, and walked to the back of his pickup. It was totally dark, with nothing but woods after the edge of the driveway. I got back there and put the tailgate down as he tore of his shirt and started to unfasten his pants. He pushed them down a bit and then stopped. He leaned up against the tailgate and I got down like I had the night before and started sucking him. Since he wasn't actually all that hard when he first started shedding clothes, it took me a couple of minutes to get him nice and stiff. I sucked and sucked and kept running my tongue over his cock for a good few minutes. It got me nice and hard and I undid my pants and slid them and my underwear down over my own dick, stroking myself as I sucked Gary. Finally he started to tense and then shot his load into my mouth. And I didn't swallow this time. I just held it there for a moment, before coming off of his dick while he was still leaking. He turned around to grab his shirt, which was further up the bed of the truck. It wasn't his brightest move. I spit his cum into one hand while with the other I shoved him forward. I slapped his cum all over my extremely stiff cock and slicked it up - well, slick at the moment. Gary was a little surprised and barely had time to ask what was happening. "Whoa, man... what are you AHHH!!!" he shouted, as I roughly rammed my dick up into his ass. He might have been a little taller than me, but not by much, and he had some nice muscles and maybe was a little stronger, but I was in control, having him more or less pinned in between me and the tailgate of his truck. He could have gotten out of this if he wanted, but he sort of pushed his ass down on my cock while we stood there. He wanted this, too. I grabbed around his shoulder where I had pushed him and then with my cum-covered hand grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. And I leaned forward: "I feel like getting off, too" I whispered, almost in his ear. And I started to slide in and out of his ass. He was definitely tight. Extremely tight. "Dude, I, uhhh, didn't... oh... oh... ahhh. Yeah... uh... fuck... uh... fuck me." "Already there, Gary." I know he meant the last bit as an expletive and not a command, but I took it as one. I picked up my pace - it wasn't going to be long before that cum-slash-lube started to dry up and it wasn't going to be nice then. It was already a disgusting mess. But I kept at it, kept fucking him, making him groan with each thrust. I slammed harder and harder and harder into his ass until I couldn't take it anymore and blew my load into him. I kept pumping a few moments after I came, slowing down like a runner after a marathon, and then pulled out. Gary was breathing rapidly and sweating profusely, despite the chill in the air. I reached up ahead of him and grabbed his shirt, wiping myself off with it and pulling my pants back up. He started to push himself up off the bed of the truck when I grabbed his arm and helped him up. He turned around and looked at me. "Fuck man... that was... that was... shit... that was..." "That was sex. Here." And I handed him that nasty shirt. "See you later." And I walked over to my car, got in, started it up, and drove off. While I was driving off I looked in the rearview mirror and saw Gary still standing there, pants still around his ankles, shirt in his hand, cum in his hair. The next night I worked, it was a much better night. Same as before, Gary and I had trash duty. He was quiet, but not unpleasant. We walked out after work towards our cars and he stopped me at the car. "That was... uh... last time... that was... wow," he said. "Enh... it was fun," I told him. Anyway, he asked what it all meant. And I didn't care - I didn't want to be involved with anyone, and sure as hell didn't want this kid in my life (he was still in high school I found out later). "It was sex. It doesn't matter. Get over it. If you had fun, good. If you didn't, don't go asking people for blowjobs after work." I got in the car and drove back to my apartment. Showered, climbed into bed, and went to sleep. The next day when I went to work, Gary had called in sick. He quit before the end of the week. I didn't care - I gave him some pleasure and he returned the favor. I have no idea what happened to him, and I didn't care for a long time. I'm curious now - hope he's okay, successful and happy.