Date: Sun, 9 Dec 2012 09:38:18 -0800 (PST) From: Tchase Mcphee Subject: A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe 08 The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in any state (21yo in Alabama, Mississippi, Wyoming, Nebraska), or in most countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. Following, pages of this story contain `adult material', intended for an `adult audience'. Bypass this warning at your own risk. % Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection. % Hey dudes, remember, Nifty needs your donations to provide these wonderful stories. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html FYI: I don't get a hefty paycheck from NiFTy at the end of the month. I write about horny dudes because it helps get my rocks off. Take your hand off your stick shift for a minute and dig into you wallet. It's costs to keep these stories coming to you. % A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe 08 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee ^o^ "Xeno!" he gives Xeno a rude awakening, slapping his hand on the bear's stomach. "What?" Xeno reacts, sitting up straight on the bed. "C'mon. Throw on some pants. We've got to go get my gear," Jason replies, stepping into his jeans. As Jason had done, Xeno forgets the briefs and is careful zipping up, "What if Poul's there?" "There or not, I'm getting my stuff," Jason says, determined. At the end of rows of rooms, sat the best, last of the wing, because it didn't border the staircase, but rather opened up in two full views of the campus. As a result of his connections, Poul had the best room in the dorm. Looking at the four numbered slots on the door, Jason asks, "You wouldn't by chance have the combination, would you Xeno?" "Only Poul and the custodian have it, but Poul warned the custodian not to bother with his room." He knew who the custodian, having met Jeadi `and his cock' in the shower, saying, "Okay, we'll have to do this the `Law and Order' way." "Law and order?" Xeno replies. "Stand back," Jason steps back, leaving a wide gap between himself and the door. Raising a foot, Jason does a `turtles' move, but it fails, "Owch! That sucks!" that he didn't kick the door in, instead hops around on one foot! After consoling Jason, Xeno informs him, "I have a bigger foot!" It helped, the door busting open, ripping most of the molding off, form the inside, out. "What the fuck?" Right off they both knew who owned that voice! As with Xeno's room, it was pitch black. Even more so, the blinds drawn down and dusk adding to the dreary environs. Jason was all eyes, not that he hasn't seen Poul already in the buff, the Scandinavian harshly reprimanding, "What the fuck is this Jason?" By way of the light shining in from the hallway, Poul's full extension was all glossy, like it had been oiled up by the insides of a guy's ass, chest, stomach and elsewhere, sweat from mansex. Having the impression, gave Jason full excuse, "I guess you were too busy with your slut to answer my knock, Poul?" "Knock?" Poul examines the shambles of the door frame. Smart of Xeno, after he broke down the door, allowed Jason to enter first, like he done it! Slipping out of bed, a dude says, "You want me to go Poul?" Feeling his first burst of freedom, Xeno exclaims, "Ben, you're Poul's new slut?" Without regard, Ben replies, "I'm auditioning." Ignoring the two, focusing on Jason and after a closer examination of how the two got beyond the security combination, "What's this about Jason?" Poul taking it real personal, picking up a splinter of wood. "I need to get my gear. The door was locked. Like I said, I needed my gear. You think I'm going to wait all night for you and your gangbangers?" "No, no, no... not the door. I mean Xeno?" Poul nods towards the Greek bear. With heightened attitude, Jason replies, "I suppose you can say I've granted Xeno his freedom. From now on Poul," Jason's barechest could pounce upon Poul's light hair covering, "I catch you within 50 feet of Xeno and I'll put a few more welts on your back!" It's then the truth comes out, Ben surprised, "He did that to you. I thought you said..." "Ben, get your clothes and get the fuck out of here!" Poul demands, rather than explain to Ben the truth, why really a red stripe coursed his back, the lie, he scratched it on a fence. Ben Bigelow didn't even bother getting dressed, grabbing his clothes and a towel to wrap around his waist, which he affixed in the hallway. Turning to Jason he says, "Take your stuff and get out of here. You give me a headache!" Walking to the far corner of the room, Xeno knew Poul headed for `the bottle'. "That was easy," Jason thought, walking the few doors back to, what was once Xeno's room to himself. "I handled myself good, didn't I?" Xeno was proud of himself. "I think you're getting the hang of it. It's exactly the way you have to be when you walk into Hawkins' office." Suddenly that lackluster attitude dissipates, "I should go see him?" "Uh, how long do you think it's going to take Poul to get in touch with Hawkins? It's my guess he's on his cell right now." Back at the room, Xeno first drops one of Jason's gear bags on the floor, then his ass on the bed. "I wish you would tell me what's going on, Xeno. Then maybe I can help you with a plan?" How could Xeno not. In one day his life has been turned upside down, shifted around and for the first time in more than a few years he is in command of his own self. Before he does, Jason says, "But first I have to do something very important. Keep those thoughts handy, Xeno!" Taking his arm, Xeno wipes a desk clean, Jason telling him he was a slob! It broke the ice for awhile, until Xeno decides to take a snooze while Jason works. He yawned a lot, but after breaking into Dean Martin's files, deleting and adding stuff to his own file, he made his way to the faculty folders. Finding `Professor Kevin Leeds', he did some changes which would coincide with his own. It was hardly more than filling in a few blanks, making his mother, Abigail Croft a `Leeds', by hyphenating it to reflect Abigail Leeds-Croft. He had already cross-referenced Kevin's name over to his own application, in the tiniest font he could find, like `fine print' glanced over, his `Uncle Kevin'. Almost finishing up, he felt something `tickling' his upper back. Right away he smiles, saying out loud, "Xeno?" "How did you know it's me?" "This!" Jason says, swiveling around in his chair and teasing Xeno with both hands pinching each nip, "Beep!" "Oh... my... god... don't do that!" Xeno backs off, both palms over his own hairy pecs. Now it's a game, Jason backing Xeno up to the wall. His strength like that of a Greek God, Xeno falls prey to Jason's needling, to unglue his hands from his hairy pecs and allows the eighteen year old to pin his wrists to the wall. Jason, knowing Xeno is giving in, moves in for the kill! "O-o-o-o-oh-oh-oh!" Xeno says when he feels teeth. "Can take it rough, can you?" If Xeno had told his tales of Satuday night get togethers with the headmaster and his personal friends, he could tell a lot about how his bod has been stimulated, however he makes it like it's the first time, "You know how to do me good!" "Practice!" Jason replies. Again, they wound up in bed. Different from the first time, Jason went right to being the perfect bottom, sucking nips, licking the black fabric, journeying down the embedded trail and then making Xeno real hard. This time there wasn't anything mutual, except their first kiss, which Jason thought was cool, because then his tongue had another course meal before tantalizing cock. A little perk, compared to last time, Jason hadn't tried to get of the big ball sacs in his mouth. He couldn't. Of course he could get the ballsac out, after Xeno unloaded them, but in a quandary of doing that and missing out on the tasty creme! Quite accidentally, Jason had gathered both balls up, cinching around the base, in order to lick them like lollipops, Xeno moaning, "O-oh, oh, oh, oh!" Right away Jason lets go, "I didn't hurt you did I?" Thinking about it, Xeno didn't want to make it sound weird, how it felt mighty good, ball pain, "No. You didn't." At first, when Jason went back to licking under Xeno's balls, nearing his hairy ass, he thought about the implications, telling Jason exactly what went on during Hawkins' private parties. For now Xeno just enjoyed the moment. Neither watched the clock and around midnight Xeno nodded off. "Fine," Jason says, finding sleep didn't keep Xeno hard, picking up his slowly deteriorating cock and letting it drop. At least Jason's tongue was flavored with precum. "Bedtime, I guess," he said, getting out of bed, but then realizing only one bed in the room. Falling asleep, Jason dwell on, "Uncle Kevin. Has a nice ring to it!" What he assumed was morning, Jason wakes up with a big yawn. Tasting his own mouth, he wishes he had something to wash the stale taste of cock overload. Stretching out, he realizes he isn't alone. Though, like late last night, Xeno was still fast asleep. "Where does the time go?" Jason comments to himself, adding Xeno to his long list of guy-encounters. Right in the middle of a stretch, there's a knock at the door. Thinking of the worst case scenario, it being Poul, Jason rolls his eyes as he slips out of bed. More thinking on this being an all-male school, he wipes out the task of covering any of himself up. Expecting the expected, Poul, Jason flings the door open and derogatorily says, "What do you want?" However, it wasn't the case at all. Instead there was a sweet little angel standing at the door! "Hi. I'm Ian Macduff. Jeffy sent me." It was a mutual thing, words being absorbed secondly, the two checking each other out. Probably Ian had the advantage, being clothed, Jason in the raw. Though, he realizes he's facing a public corridor, cupping a hand over his balls and trying to hide his morning wood. "Sent you?" Jason still acts a little intoxicated over opening the door, "Jeffy did?" "Right," Ian composes himself, "but if you're `involved' at the moment, I can come back?" "Uh, nah," Jason says. "So, um... Uh, what's with Jeffy... and you?" Not that Jason didn't already know, "Oh, we're not boyfriends or anything, but he said you were looking for a room mate and my room mate decided, after one day at Manfredi, it wasn't for him. I was wondering... if..." He senses Ian looking past him and what was obviously not a secret, hearing Xeno snoring, Jason had to make some quick decisions. `Dammit!' he was crying out inside, Jason thinking how crushed Xeno would be if he up and left right now. Or, was it that little voice on the inside not wanting to tear himself away from the Greek? Both! He wanted to go and he wanted to stay! He was relieved when Ian says, "You don't have to make a decision right now. After talking with Jeffy, I wanted to give you first dibs, before they assign someone." "I appreciate that," Jason reaches out for a handshake, realizing he's broken off the cradle. The feeling of his balls dropping, he looks down, which causes Ian to do the same! "Okay, so maybe later I'll come find you, Ian and..." he hears Xeno stirring, "maybe we can talk about it over a latte?" Inside, his back to do the door, Jason looked down. He wanted to check out the `hot guy gauge', like a thermometer which controlled an erection, but a sign of relief told himself he hadn't ballooned! "Who was that?" Xeno asks, faced down on the bed, his head propped up on the palms of his hands. Not wanting to upset the balance they had right now, Jason quips, "Jehovah Witnesses," he laughs. However, Xeno had awoken five minutes ago, so cuts through the bullshit, "He's cute. If I had the same offer, I'd take it!" Jason sat on the bed, his butt right up the side of Xeno's bod and then lays back. "Isn't it supposed to be front to front?" Xeno looks around the corner of his head at Jason, confronting him. Flexing his abs, doing a situp, Jason didn't say anything. Xeno had plenty to say, "I think you should room with him." "But I'm rooming with you, Xeno!" "Well, if you don't want to room with Ian, then maybe I will!" "Traitor!" Jason says, slapping Xeno on the buns. Sitting up on the bed, Xeno accidentally taps his head on the upper bunk, "You have done a lot for me, Jason, but it doesn't mean we have to room together," sulking, "even though you feel you have to?" "I wasn't because I had to, it's because I wanted to Xeno. Get the story straight?" Both with their backs to the wall, Xeno makes excuse, "You should room with someone your own age. One more year and I am off to grad school. Besides," he cuts a joke, running his hands up and down his hairy bod, "you can come back and feel this anytime!" His brain reminiscing over his last night, Jason's hand goes into play, "Yeah, I had a good time with this last night." Then, a horror fills Jason, "Like oh my god! What happens if Ian's not hairy?" "Do you like me only because I am hairy?" "Nah," Jason replies. The devil in him, a finger and thumb give Xeno a tweaking, "this too... beep!" Right away Xeno's hand goes to his cock, "Oh-h-h-h, you know what you've done!" "No Xeno, your own hand started to make you hard!" Looking across the room, Jason sees the shirt he wore yesterday for dinner, "Oh, that shirt!" he bounces his ass off the bed. "What shirt?" Xeno questions the abrupt move. "Poul's sex-soaked shirt!" Taking it in hand, Jason starts shredding it, explaining how he came by it. Of course, Jason relays some information which surprises Xeno, "He wanted you to whip him?" Jason, who has had some interest in psychology, sheds light on, his experience, integrating thought, "Poul, man he's a regular Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde!" "Hmm," is all Xeno renders, thinking on all this. Jason stops shredding to ask, "Why? What's on your mind?" "Oh, nothing," Xeno replies. Under his breath, Jason thought the opposite, `liar', but for now was keeping his thoughts to himself. Then it was decided, getting themselves up, showered and ready for Sunday morning breakfast, which was not a mandatory meal. "Hey Xeno?" Jason asks, as water trickles down his bod. Thinking of the shower they share, Xeno puts his arm around Jason, in the palm of his hand, creamy "Soap?" Looking at the gooey substance lying in a puddle of Xeno's hand, a sudden, evil urge comes over him, "Yeah, sure Xeno." He must've wondered as much as Jason, Xeno waiting for the soap to be removed from his hand, Jason waiting to see if Xeno was going to apply it to his bod; back, chest or other parts. "You want me to do it?" Acting appropriately, Jason says, "Of course not. Give it here!" A bit ahead of Jason in thinking, Xeno steals the closed fist of soap back, "No, no, no... I can do it!" "Nice," Jason immediately came back with, arching his back, when feeling Xeno's two big paws massaging his shoulder blades, then down by his kidneys, then lower... "Don't forget the crack!" Jason jokes. More than his lower back, when he feels stimulation around his arsehole, "Is that a finger or..." "Trust me," Xeno replies, "if it wasn't my finger, you would be in pain, not pleasure!" Of course, by now Jason knew how long and thick Xeno could get, but was curious, turning around 360, his hand finding out, "That was quick, Xeno!" he looks in the Greek's eyes. "I wanted to do more than '69' last night?" "That's okay, Xeno," Jason laughs, "I would want to feel like sitting down today?" By now, the `old Xeno' had faded. With Jason talking him through the problem of both Hawkins and Poul Olaf hanging over his head, he was a new man. Right now, he was beholden, "I wanted to show you my appreciation for helping me to feel better about myself?" Taking liberty to slowly stroke Xeno's hard shaft, it did pique Jason's interest on just how far out of shape it would stretch him, asking, "About how many guys have you busted open with this cannon?" Fully accepting the sweet torment of Jason's hands, the Greek cub took to placing both arms on Jason's shoulders for support. He confides, "A few, but it was not like I cared for any of them." At this point, Xeno's hand surfs down Jason's bod and finds out how much they are both getting out of this intimate shower. Jason admits, "Not as big as you, am I?" With this whole attitude change, Xeno replies, "It doesn't matter how big. I very much enjoyed pleasuring you." "Really? And I bet, if given the chance, you would want to pleasure me with this?" Jason strokes a finger up the underside of the thick shaft. "Mm-mm," Xeno closes his eyes, drops his head back. "Was that a `yes' or a `no'?" Perceiving Jason's comment, Xeno asks, "If you want to turn around?" Jason turns around, reaching for the faucets, turning them off. With an about face, he watches the water stream down Xeno's awesome black-haired bod. There was a look of question on Xeno's face. "Save that thought, Xeno!" Because he thought he was going to pulverize Jason's chute, he says, "I have a good mind to rape that little white ass of yours right now!" Seeing the contrast in Xeno's personalities, Jason replies, "Yesterday I would have believed you, Xeno! C'mon, we've got something to do." Getting out, Jason grabs the first towel, tossing it right to Xeno's chest. "Unh-uh," Xeno replies to Jason grabbing up a towel for himself. "I could learn to like this!" Jason says of Xeno, drying him off before himself. Entering the main room, Jason asks, "You have a car, right?" ^ o ^ Meanwhile, after the confrontation with Jason, Poul made a beeline for the headmaster's office. Since it had not been so easy to get Jason into his confidence, he decided to make things a little rocky for the `greener'. Of main concern, was Poul losing his main contender for Saturday Night events, Cristano Xenopolis, or as Jason has now christened him, `Xeno'. Poul waltzes right into Hawkins' office, whereas the headmaster, probably thinking it someone else, quickly closes his laptop. "Hiding something on me, Samuele?" Poul freely dubs the headmaster. However, Hawkins saw right through the college student, the addressing a false pretense, "What's on your mind?" he kicks back, placing hands behind his head, which parts the suit jacket, his tie falling to one side of his white shirt, pants showing `something', not in a hard state as he places criss-crossed feet to the corner of his desk. "We got a problem," and Poul, trying to turn a serious matter into a joke, "Cristano, he's turned to the `light' side. Get it?" when he doesn't see the headmaster even cracking a smile, "`Light side... Dark side? Star Wars?" "Oh, I see," Hawkins drops his feet to the floor. A year after Samuele Hawkins-Jones III assumed the position of headmaster at Manfredi, he patterned `Saturday night get togethers' after events he hosted at other colleges he has held the prestigious position. He took the position at Manfredi because it was `easy'. Easy to find guys like Poul, wannabe headhunters who didn't care much about the extra money, their lifestyles already including a wealth of the `green stuff', but because it gave them position, upper crust relationships in the order of student hierarchy at the special school. Also, guys like Poul had a special interest in seeing ways in which to make a guy `hard', not exactly going it about it in an easy manner, by hand or mouth, but found out other ways, which also stimulated his own self! By invitation, the guests would show up, payng a nominal fee at the door, $250/per man. Most were CEO'S of companies Hawkins knew of from doing business with them, benefitting Manfredi. Others could be some guy he's met at a gay bar or running around town doing chores. If a past colleague or friend happened to be in town, Hawkins could accommodate them on a Saturday night, which he was willing to do, almost anything to fatten the bankroll of his retirement account! The way it worked, in his former position as headmaster of a college or university, he had a `headhunter' or two, an outgoing student who could `mingle' with other guys on campus. Tough, but also a business mind, one who could keep track of a roster of business clientele. Right now, with approximately five or six clients, Hawkins kept the Saturday night entertainment a small operation, which only required one `headhunter' at each of the schools he associated with, past and present. When he first spotted Poul and after perusing his file and observations of the student, Hawkins knew this was the man for the job. Now he had his doubts! "Doesn't sound like a laughing matter to me?" Hawkins uncouples his hands from behind his head. "Um," nervously Poul gathers his thoughts, along with his disposition, "could be `not a good thing', but I'm still working on him," even though he knows he's lost his `boy'. Reaching in his desk draw, Samuele retrieves something, holding it in the palm of his hand, standing, walking around his desk to where Poul stands, says, "I just want to remind you of something Poul?" He had seen the headmaster reach into his draw and because he kept the object in his hand hidden, he knew the mystery surrounding it was meant as some secret, to be presented in a surprising manner. Poul bit a lip, dividing his attention between Samuele's right hand and eyes. "Uh, what's that?" Poul said nervously. There was no reason why Poul should not have been scared shit, the way the headmaster used words in a cagey manner, spoken to intimidate, something of a gift, which worked on all levels, whether in business matters for Manfredi, or in connection with the Saturday Night `get togethers,' "What happens to boys who welch on me?" Poul never saw what was in Hawkins' hand. The top of his shirt, collar and tie, all caught up in the headmaster's fist, he couldn't see what was happening down below. Pulled towards his aggressor, Samuele easy maneuvered the brass knuckles around, expertly fitting the curved metal around his own hand and driving a punch to Poul's abs! "Ugh-gh-gh-gh!" Poul belched from his lips, both hands going to his abdominals, eyes squinted shut from the `stomach-ache' feeling, wind knocked out of him. Still, tie and shirt in his grip, Hawkins was getting hard from Poul's reaction, ordering him, like he would do any perspective submissive client, on a Saturday night, "If you're smart, you'll get Cristano back!" Said so close to Poul's painful reaction on his face, no doubt he could feel spittle. Letting go of the tie and shirt, the college student drops to his knees in a bundle. "I fuckin' didn't even hit you that hard," Hawkins opens the middle drawer of his desk and tosses the brass knuckles back in, "but worse than brass knuckles, I'll warn you Poul..." Slowly, getting his wind back, his abs only required one hand to rub feeling back into the taut muscles, the other hand grasping the headmaster's desk, to hoist himself up, "I..." the Scandinavian breathes heavy, "I'll try getting him back," he swallows and breathes. "Try, Poul?" Samuele again takes up residence in his comfy swivel chair, leaning back enough to assume the position, arms up, as well as feet, "Let me give you some good advice, Poul... I've got some contenders lined up for Cristano, for this Saturday night, you remember Gio and Antonio?" Standing, but still feeling up the impression Hawkins' brass knuckles left on his gut, Poul reacts, "I remember them," how could he not, the `tag team from hell!' Facetiously, Hawkins says, "You don't really have to worry yourself about getting Cristano back?" "Really?" it gave Poul's attitude a boost, straightening up at the more cheery response by his `business partner'. "No," Hawkins kept up the act, "don't worry yourself over it. If you can't get Cristano back, I'm sure Gio and Antonio won't mind having `you' as a 2-on-1 wrestling partner?" Everything reconstituted by Poul five minutes ago, drained from is bod. His upright shoulders sagged at the dreadful thought, "Me? With Gio and Antonio?" "Yeah," Hawkins smiled as he said it, "you know how Gio and Antonio just `love' no rules wrestling?" he snickers and giggles with evil intent. Poul's response, regardless of how he felt about Xeno, was met with, "They'll fuckin' kill me!" Taking a swig of his coffee, Hawkins nonchalantly replies, "Nah. Gio and Antonio aren't out to kill, just turn a guy's abs to mush, maybe crack a rib or two, leave a few bruises on the chest and balls?" "Oh my god!" Poul exclaims. As if Hawkins had stood, walked around the desk and planted his brass-knuckled fist above his navel, the college man sits, breathing heavily. He knew how Gio and Antonio liked having a good time, witnessing the two would be wrestling partners take on a man, on more than one occasion. Poul couldn't deny, it making him hard, hand in his crotch during the whole battering act, watching the two 38 year old Italian twins confuse their victim with their identical looks, 6' tall, muscular build, dark-haired chest, trail and bellyhole swirl, a swath to their `built' pubes, their victim succumbing to the abuse of the twins taking turns, putting their muscular victim into various holds, while the other pounded abs, pecs, gut-punched balls or did anything else in the rule book, or by their `own' rules. However, `now', thinking on such things as Antonio pinning a dude to the mat, stretching the victim in a position of arms grasping arms, lying under the poor fellow, legs grasping up legs, leaving his whole bod open for punishment, Poul cringed at the thought of Gio dropping a knee to his balls, or an elbow to his gut. In particular, he singles out Gio's and Antonio's last victim, Drake, a construction worker he happened to meet, driving around town. Having stopped at a red light, the construction site was right there on Poul's right side. With the window open, he spotted Drake, pumping nails into the side of a building. Turning around to grab a nail, Drake made the connection, which made him forget about the nail. Later on, after contacting each other, Poul got to know Drake over a beer. Mostly on Drake's part, Poul learned how resilient the construction worker could be. The rest was history, Drake becoming a regular `victim' at Hawkins' Saturday night get togethers. Suddenly cast back to his own dilemma, enthralled with the horror left him, it made Poul clutch his own balls! "I think I've explained myself clearly, Poul?" He got up, which Poul took as a sign, time for himself to depart. However, after leaving the office, he found Hawkins wasn't following. In other words, even though the headmaster was to the point, he was being ejected, kicked out and left to fend for himself. With his back to the hallway wall, Poul at first breathed heavily, his hand having already slid up, from balls to stomach, with still pangs from Hawkins' knuckle-punch. Maybe guys like Drake were destined to become punching bags, but right now, Poul's thoughts only dwell on himself, being laid up in a hospital, in a full cast, his bod racked with pain, all four limbs broken and bandaged up... His own thoughts bringing back to reality, "Damn! If I can't get Cristano..." he hurried away. He had to get back to his room, seek out his `little black book' of names and numbers. Meanwhile, Hawkins lay back in his chair. In reality, he didn't give two hoots about Poul. A man in his position, thinking other than school activity, he knew he couldn't afford to get attached to the person he chose to `represent' himself. Though, the headmaster did relax, close him eyes, hand drifting to the main seam of his dress slacks, thinking on the first day he lay eyes on Poul. He smiles, "What an easy take!" his exact thoughts. Like himself, and Samuele knew this, Poul could be a selfish individual, only looking out for `number one'. Never wrong about the guy he set up to be his `go between', Samuele soon became too big to contain himself. He had already locked the door, knowing he could become so engrossed in memories over first meeting Poul, he felt comfortable unbuckling, unzipping and drawing his junk out of his briefs, a full hand. Gently he stroked, his mind on the first, second and more times it took, drawing Poul into his spider web. Knowing money would not be a big enough draw, this is where his big, fat cock came into play. As with other lines he's dropped on guys, Samuele gained confidence in the lad, making an offer too tough to let slide, which included privileges only a `right hand man' could take advantage of, like off campus day or night, seven days of the week, cutting classes, some things legit, others blatantly illegal. Final gesture to acquiring these benefits, Samuele sealed the deal with his campus `headhunter', requiring a token of faith. It was his first of quite a few back room meetings at Manfredi over the years, him and Poul in bed together, though right now, Samuele was more than moved over memories of that first time. It excited him then, as it did now, thinking on how Poul announced it was his first time sucking cock. Getting close, emotion fueling his hard shaft into a full blown hardon, Samuele smiles and sighs with pleasure, his memory feeding the psyche needed to get his balls churning. A gauge, letting Poul know if his cocksucking abilities were mediocre, great or downright displeasing, Hawkins' fingertips on Poul's nips would send a shock of soft pleasure, if Poul's tongue and lips delivered a satisfying suck, or failure, mashing and grinding of fingers. Sometimes Samuele thought it such a waste, Poul's cock-sucking abilities and how graceful his tongue could slide up and down his hard shaft, his lips replicating a hot ass. Though, none of these oral skills delivered as satisfying sexual response, as much as Poul's ass. Upon thinking about all of this, Samuele brought himself to fruition, and right before his sweet creme shot out, he remembered he wasn't totally in the clear. Standing, he shot his load on his desk, instead of up his chest, which would have soiled the front of his dress shirt. It added extra pleasure, his gooey spunk creating a mess on Poul's folder, sitting open on his desk. He laughs, about how much landed on Poul's face. Since he was alone, he picked up the student's picture and licked it off! % Copyright 2012 T. Chase McPhee `A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe', and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.