Date: Sun, 11 Dec 2022 16:34:58 +0000 From: Sam Tudor Subject: Gay, College, Rent Boys Revisited, Lexington's Story, Parts 9 & 10 Dear Readers: There about 18 stories under High School, Rent Boys Revisited, with the same characters at an earlier age. You do not need to read them first to find their stories of interest, or to get you hard, I hope. In any event, please contribute to Nifty to keep this site going! The first two paragraphs below are a repeat of some of what was spelled out in the high school stories, but if you are starting here, things you need to know about me. My name is Lexington, I was 18 when this story begins, the spring of my Senior year in high school, and it takes me to my college experience very quickly. I am Black, an athlete, Class President, in a small New England city, I am bi, but mostly gay in practice, since Blacks are a significant minority in our school, and Blacks dating white girls is just not done, this was the 1970's. My best female friend was white, but dating her was out of the question. I was a football star and a big guy as well. My mother worked in health care and we were doing OK, I had three younger siblings, my father was long gone, my mother had me at 16, had a series of boyfriends over the years, never married, but kept us together as a family. We had a small three-bedroom apartment, there was not much privacy, I shared a room with my brother who was 10 at the time when this begins, I had to jerk off quick in the one bathroom, or in my bed after my brother had gone to sleep. In the spring I ran track, I was a sprinter, and a weight man, shot put, javelin, and discus. I also ran hurdles, I went over the hurdles OK, and sometimes placed in a dual meet, but I was the 3rd best we had. There was a kid on the team, when I was a Junior, named Jason, kind of Asian looking, a really good long-distance runner, with the longest foreskin I had ever seen, and, for an Asian kid, a pretty good-sized cock. But at that point we had not much in common. My Senior year he did not come out for track, I heard his father was very sick with cancer, and he had to stay home to help care for him after school. Then in April I heard his father had died. I was back on the Meat Rack, from time to time, the Parkside Hotel now being just an SRO for the down and almost out. Ian had been living there, but was in really tough shape, AIDS had gotten the best of him, he made it over to the Meat Rack but with his Kaposi's lesions nobody was hiring him, I gave him a five or a ten when I saw him, and some of the other guys who knew him when, did the same. I was making enough money in the summers as a stone mason that I didn't need to get money from the Meat Rack, but I did miss the random sex, and was very particular who I went with, and what we did. I worked in the bar across the street from time to time, and made a little cash that way, the tips as a bartender were good, especially since lots of the guys were hoping to get in my pants, and, a few did. Then, one Friday night in early April, I saw Jason, talking to Ian, who was on his way out. Out of life that is. I knew Jason, slightly, from track, and seeing him around, but we were not in the same circles -- the high school had about 1000 students. We talked, we were attracted to each other, and went over to the backyard of the museum and did some exploration of our bodies, and cocks, and discussed things with the result that we were going to trade martial arts lessons for me, for sex lessons for him. We did that, off and on, for the rest of the spring. He was living alone, and very lonely, my Mom had a new boyfriend, the best of the lot, but her apartment was just too small for all of us, and I moved in with Jason. We kept the pretense of separate bedrooms, in case his social worker, or some relative, showed up, but slept together, and had a lot of sex, together, and life was pretty good. Then it was graduation for me, and my stone mason summer job. Details on this part of my life are contained in the High School series of stories. Lexington's Story -- Part 10 Summer job. Coach had introduced me to an Italian stone mason, whose son was two years ahead of me, and played football, and needed another kid for the summer. Guy Morelli was a great guy, paid well, and taught me brick and stone work. It was labor intensive, but really demanded a brain as well. I worked for him for 4 summers, beginning after my Sophomore year of high school. By the fourth summer I could do it all, and do it well, and could be left alone on a job for a whole day or week. I did not get an athletic scholarship, but was prized as a walk-on. I did get a need-based scholarship, Freshman year, which paid for my tuition, and a small stipend for books and lab fees. I was offered student loans, and a student job, it was called "work-study" back then, in a college department, for the rest. Living with Jason, my expenses were low, I opted to take a student loan but spent almost nothing of it as a Freshman, and then, at the coach's insistence, got a "full boat" for football and track for the next three years. It did not include spending money, but since living with Jason was cheaper than a dorm, there was some left over. I was a good solid Division 3 running back, not NFL material, so there was not a lot of pressure on me. I was still working the Meat Rack off and on, but the "good government" crack down, which saw the Mayor go to jail for having sex with an underage girl, the "under-desk" girl she was known as, them having been caught when she was under his Mayor's desk giving him a blow job, more or less put that out of business. The Parkside Hotel was still operating, but only as a just above homeless shelter, the prostitution enterprise had ceased. Up until that summer, I had always worked under the supervision of the boss, or one of the more seasoned employees, but this summer the boss said I would be on my own for some jobs that he knew I could handle, and he knew he could rely on me to work hard, and do it right. The first such job was to replace the patio around an existing in-ground pool with bluestone laid in the Versailles pattern. In case you have not run into it, blue stone comes in various colors ranging from blue, almost black, to green, to red, with streaks of yellow or brown, depending on where it was quarried. It also comes in sizes ranging, usually from 6" x 6" squares to pieces that are 36" x 36", and a variety of squares and rectangles between the two. The Versailles pattern is one where no two pieces make a rectangle. It is very hard to do, on the ground, what you do is lay it out in the office, there is a computer program that helps, first having measured the space to be paved. Then one goes to the stone yard and gets the required pieces, maybe making some color choices, then laying them down, one by one, over sand, scooping out some sand for the thick pieces, and putting some in for the thin ones. I had gotten pretty good at it. So, one hot June day I went out to Westville, the ritzy suburb about a half hour drive west of the city in one of the company trucks loaded with the stone, following the boss in the little dump truck loaded with sand. He dumped the sand and went back to the shop. I unloaded the stone, and then began to spread the sand. I took off my t shirt, and was just wearing work boots and shorts. A guy, my age, came out of the house at about 10 am, looking like he had just gotten up, and the temperature was about 85. He was wearing baggy swim trunks, and nothing else. "Oh, hi," he said. "You must be here to lay the patio. My name is Chris, actually Christopher Argyle Westwood. I live here. Well, in the summer, and just part of that, but you don't care about that, and who are you? I know you are the stone guy. I go to college, well actually I will go to college, starts in September, or is it the last week in August? Can I get you a glass of water, or beer, or something? Do you need to use the bathroom? My parents are away on Cape Cod for the week, so I am here alone, they left me a lot of food in the freezer, and you could give a shit about that as well. When I am nervous I talk too much." "Whoa," I said. "Why are you nervous? I'm just the stone guy, and, my name is Lex, short for Lexington, like the battle. And, I would like a glass of water, and if I have to piss I do it in the bushes over there. Not in the pool." "Pleased to meet you," and he walked over and shook hands. "Same here." "You have a great body, but I suppose that is getting too personal." "Yours is not bad," I replied, "and a complement like that is not too personal for me." "How old are you?" "18, and you?" "18, I guess we are the same age, then." "If I had to guess, I would guess you are right." "You must think I am such a doofus, I am just nervous." "Well, how about that glass of water, and then just sit over there in the shade and relax." His shorts were baggy in front, he was obviously going commando, and he was getting hard looking at me. Walking away he had a great V shaped back, small rounded ass, and muscular legs. I could get hard looking a him. He came out with a glass of ice water, holding a towel in front of his shorts, gave me the glass, and sat down, he was clearly hard, and a nice package it was. He saw me looking. "Morning wood," he said. I drank the water and went back to work. He watched me, sweat was running down my body. "Want to go for a swim?" "Thanks, maybe on my lunch hour, I get a half hour, I am on my honor when working alone. I am scheduled from 11:30 to noon. But I don't have a suit." "No problem, we swim bare ass here, all the time." I figured he wanted to get into my pants, and, it was OK by me, so I played along. At 11:30 I took off my boots and socks and shorts and underwear, and dove into the pool. I made sure Chris got a good look at my swinging dick before I went in, and it was on its way to being hard, but, the way my dick fills up, it hangs and fills before it starts to get erect. He got out of his shorts, and dove in, his dick already hard. There was no doubt he wanted to play, the only question was how and what and who was going to do what to whom. He answered that by ducking down under water and taking my cock in his mouth. He surfaced. I got my ass up on the edge of the pool so he could suck my cock without drowning. He just looked up at me with his nice blue eyes while he worked my cock, a great turn on, my dark black cock in his very white face. "Keep on going," I said, "you are good." And that was no exaggeration, he was good. "You have had a lot of experience?" He nodded yes, never letting go of my cock. I was really turned on, and he was really good. "Play with my hole and I will cum, and still have time for lunch," I recommended. He stuck a finger up my ass, and I came, and he swallowed almost all of it, some left dripping out of the corners of his mouth. And a pool of cum then surfaced in front of his belly, he had cum as well. And I still had 15 minutes to eat my lunch. "Many thanks," I said, "that was great." "We could do more," he said. "Not today, I am done at 4 and need to bring the truck back right away before the shop closes at 4:30." We talked all afternoon while I worked, he put on a pair of gloves and helped me move some of the bigger pieces which weighed over 100 pounds. I learned that his parents had sent him to boarding school, a prep school, for high school, and to all summer, summer camps, and so had spent very little time home since 8th grade. That had freed his parents up to go where ever they wanted. He had an older sister, who was married and lived on the west coast. A cleaning lady came in on Mondays, a garden service on Tuesday and a pool service on Wednesday. Most importantly, his prep school was all male, and the stories I had heard, about gay sex, in such places, were apparently true in his school. He had never fucked a girl, but wanted to try it. I invited him to come to our (Jason's really) house for Friday supper, Jason was not working that evening that week, gave him the address, he asked which car should he use. There was a Corvette, a Ford Country Squire wagon with fake wood on the sides and a Jeep Cherokee. I told him to bring the Jeep, our neighborhood was not bad, but cars had been stolen in the past. He wanted to know what Jason was like, I told him, and when I got home I warned Jason. He was a nice guy, good looking, gave great blow jobs, but had been pretty sheltered.