Emale Exchange

Emale Exchange Emale Exchange
by Ashley Hardric ©2005
ahardric@gmail.com

    This is a work of fiction.  That means it is not true.  Didn’t happen.  It’s a figment. No boys were involved or harmed in the writing of this story and no trees were sacrificed.  The author does not condone sex with boys; he just writes fantasies about it.  Further, sex in reality requires caution and protection, but my characters won’t catch any bad bugs unless I write them in.  Be safe and legal in the real world, and enjoy the story only if you are of age and location to legally do so.

    **This story is the property of the author and may not be reproduced elsewhere (i.e. other than Nifty Archive)  without his permission.**

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    TJ had come into the tutoring center in the college Library for help with his term project.  As we went over what he’d done, I noticed that he was squirming a bit, and that his right hand was frequently attending a rather obvious hard-on.  I knocked a pen off the table, and slid out of the L-shaped booth to pick it up.  “Since you’re left-handed,” I said, “it’ll be easier if I sit on the other side.”  I returned to the bench seat and sat down very close to him.  A hard penis was clearly visible in the crease between right thigh and abdomen, and I moved my leg directly next to his.  I pulled his notebook closer to us on the table top, while I dropped my left hand beneath the table and pressed hard against his hardness.  He gasped, and I said, “Try to act normal,” while I began massaging his hard meat with my thumb.  Fortunately, everyone within visual range of our under-table activity was facing other directions, and our seat backs blocked any view from behind.  His breathing got a little ragged, and he placed his own hand on top of mine.  I increased my pressure, enjoying the feel of his hard meat under my hand, and his warm hand on top.  Within a minute, I felt his body shudder beside me, and several sudden spasms under my hand, and then a warm wetness under my thumb.  I gave his hand a squeeze, and returned my hand to the table top.  “I think we’re just about done with this,” I said.  “If you need more help, I hope you’ll come again.”  He gathered his papers and notebooks, and covered his wet jeans with them as he departed the room.
 
    I did not see him for a long time, although I kept a sharp eye out.  Then, some weeks later at the end of the day, I saw him on one of the computers, “chatting.”  I glanced over his shoulder at his screen and thought I saw some lines that seemed to be about “coming out.”  I also noticed that he was hard again, and more or less typing with one hand.  He seemed to be breathing hard, too.  I couldn’t “eavesdrop” further on his screen, though, as it would have been too obvious  to remain standing behind him.  And then the computer station next to him opened up.

    I sat down next to him,  logged on to the system, and accessed my alternate “Hotmail” account.  Since the campus email system is a standard name/initials format for everyone, I could easily guess his email address.  I sent him a note.  “Hi, TJ,” I wrote.  “You seem to be involved in some pretty hot mail -- or is it some pretty hot male?  Or maybe some pretty male has you very hot?  I think you need me to help you handle your *hard* situation.”  I hit the send button, and almost immediately his own computer chimed with the “you have mail” alert.

    He retrieved my message, and I watched him through the corner of my eye.  He looked around, but could not see my own screen, and could not identify any possible source for his message.  But it made him even more excited.  He hit his “reply” button and sent a message back.  “Where r u?  WHO r u? How do u know what’s in my email?”  

    In the meantime, I had silenced my own alert chime, so he could not connect his sending with my receiving.  I remained sitting as I was, apparently engrossed in my own work and ignoring him, but watching him covertly.  I wrote back, “Maybe I’m sort of like CyberGod.  I know all, I see all!  It’s not what’s in your email I’m interested in, it’s what’s in your pants.  Which you seem to be having trouble keeping  your hands out of.   I don’t blame you; I’d like to get my hands in your pants too.  How about a little j/o action?  Ever jerk off with CyberGod?  In the Library?  Kind of exciting, huh?  But too dangerous in this area; too much open space.  Got any better ideas?”

    He was waiting for my reply, and as he read it he got even hotter.  His chest was heaving; his face was flushed, and he had trouble typing because his cock insisted on more and more attention.  I sent another message, “If you cum in your pants before I get in there, I’m gonna be really irritated!”  He picked that one up, and added another sentence before sending the reply.  “Maybe we could go back into the stacks.  I’ve jerked off back there before by myself.  We can find the sex section; it smells interesting.  I’m so horny I can hardly stand it.  Where ARE u?  My cock needs help soon!  I’m ready to cream my pants, if u want to help u better tell me how to find u.”

    I decided it was time to reveal myself.  I sent a last message, “Just turn to your right; I’m right beside you.  I know another place... an office that is usually empty.  Log off your computer, wait for me outside the Lib.  We have to go across the quad to Building 3.  See you shortly, TJ.  Keep it in your pants for a couple more minutes and you won’t regret it.”  I turned to him as he read it.  His mouth dropped open in surprise as he met my eyes.  I grinned at him, logged off my machine, and left the room.

    I left the Library by the side staff door and walked around to the front.  Moments later, TJ emerged from the main entrance.  “I have keys to a little office that isn’t used this time of day,” I told him as we began to walk across to the next building in the gathering dusk.  “We should be OK there.  How’s that sound to you?”
    “Awesome,” he replied.  Then he continued, “How did you know?”
    “I’ve been watching for you all semester,” I told him.  “Ever since you came for tutoring and creamed your pants, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get to you again without scaring you away.”
    “I wanted to come back,” he said, “But I was too scared.  This is such a fucking straight town, I don’t think it’s safe to approach anyone.”
    “You got that right,” I said.  “This place is Homophobia, USA.”
    “Yeah.  And in the dorms, the anti-gay attitude is so think you can cut it with a knife.  Anyone who admits to jerking off is called a faggot, which is pretty stupid, because everyone does it but no one admits it.”
    “So none of the gay guys are willing to risk making advances, much less coming out?”  I suggested.
    “Exactly.  I wrote a paper for English on stereotypes and homosexuality, and when I did peer editing in class, you’d have thought I was suggesting that the Pope fuck his mother and suck off the college of Cardinals.  Jeez!  I never expected the narrow-minded attitudes that I am finding here.”
    “I know what you mean,” I replied.  “Coming from a liberal background, I feel the same thing.  I am constantly finding myself laughing at gay-bashing jokes and making anti-gay remarks, just to fit in.  Which is part of why I noticed you.”  I put my arm around his shoulders in a publicly acceptable way, and pulled him closer to me.  “You know, you have a kind of radar that lets you notice guys who may be on the same wavelength.  You seem to be on mine.”

    We reached Building 3 where the part-time and tutors’ office was, and walked in.  It was deserted; the day classes had finished, and the night classes would not start for another hour.  I unlocked the door to the little office and opened it; TJ entered and I re-locked the door before following him in and closing it.  I propped a straight chair under the knob, just in case someone with a key happened to come by.  Then I turned to TJ.

    “First thing,” I told him, “is to get this jacket off.” And I helped him slip out of the lightweight red windbreaker he usually wore.  As I did so, I ran my hands from his stomach up to his chest and across his shoulders.  He liked that.

    “Next thing,” I continued, “is to get this tee shirt off.”  I moved my hands back down his chest, slowly passing his nipples and and his stomach and coming to rest against his abdomen, where his erection was once again obvious.  I grasped the red tee shirt on both sides of his hips, and raised it up his slender torso, caressing his chest as I went.  I got it to his shoulders, and he raised his arms without being told.  In a moment, he was naked from the waist up.  I took some time to admire him, and to run my fingers over the smooth white lines of his still-adolescent muscles.  His nipples were erect now, standing out in stiff contrast to his smooth, flawless chest.  I gave each one a little massage, and then continued the undressing.

    “Now,” I said, “We have to get rid of some things that are in the way.  Like your pants.”  I moved my hand down to his waistband, which was competing with his prick for control.  His prick won, and poked out the top of his low-hung pants.  I unbuttoned his jeans, and ever-so-gently stroked once down along his erect member.  Then I took his zipper, and very slowly unzipped him, pressing firmly against his stiff prick as I did so.  He gasped involuntarily.

    “Am I hurting you?” I asked.
    “No, it feels incredible.  I feel like I’m going to cum any second,” he said.
    “Hold it in, kiddo,” I said.  “We’ve only just begun.”  
    “I’ll try,” he said.  “Maybe you should give me a minute or two without touching there.”

    A wet spot was growing at the top of his Jockeys, and he was obviously almost ready to shoot.  But I wasn’t ready for him to do that yet.  So I said, “You realize you have to pay a price for this lesson, don’t you?”
    “I don’t have much money on me,” he answered.  “Only about a buck and half.”
    “I didn’t mean that kind of payment,” I said.  “I had in mind a special job.”  And with that, I put both hands on his naked shoulders and pushed down.  “On your knees, please,”  I said.

    He went right down, and needed very little prompting.  He opened my pants, and pulled them down.  Then he took my rock hard prick in his hands, stroking it a bit as if trying to measure its size with his hands.  “Suck it,” I told him.

    He needed no further instruction.  He opened his mouth and encased my throbbing prick in his warm wet lips.  I was in ecstasy.  As I began to fuck his face, he began to move up and down on me, lubricating my shaft with his delicate mouth.  Faster and faster we went, me guiding his head and him sucking mine, until I could hold back no longer.  I came in a massive orgasm, filling his mouth to overflowing with the cum I had been saving for him.  He gulped it down, and then licked me clean.

    “OK,” I said.  “I guess it’s your turn now.”   I pulled him back up and gave him a big hug.  “That was wonderful,” I said.  “Who was your teacher?”
    “No one,” he answered.  “I’ve only done that in my dreams.”
    “Well, you should get an ‘A’, ” I told him, holding him in my arms.  I released him with one hand and let it move down his back to his ass.  I slipped my hand into his pants, which were still more or less around his waist, and explored his smooth teenage butt.  Then I brought the second hand down the same way,  and when I reached his hips, I pulled both pairs of pants down to his thighs.  His penis stood out, dark red and completely hard, bulging upward tight against his belly.  I took it in my hand and just held it; a small artery pulsed in time with his pounding heart, and shiny precum oozed from its tip.  His heavy breathing was the only sound in the tiny office.

    I turned him around so we both faced the same way, his naked ass leaning against my pelvis as I leaned back against a desk.  Slowly, I started to stroke him.  I ran my fingers down the rigid shaft and back up again.  I squeezed it with my whole hand, and then stroked it again.  I avoided the wet head for the moment, and caressed his dry pole with my fingers.  I moved downward to his balls, and attended them, and came back towards the top.  I went back down, further and further, seeking the sensitive spot at the very base of the penis near the asshole.  Apparently I found it.

    “God!” he shouted.  “Oh my God, oh my God!”  He was writhing now against me, thrusting his throbbing prick against my hand, moaning with delight, pushing his prick again and again into my willing hand.  Then with an involuntary shudder, he shot his load.  Strong streams of teenage cum shot through my fingers, landing on his naked stomach, his chest, even his shoulder.  His orgasm subsided, and I rubbed my cum-covered fingers all over his dick and balls.  Then I dried myself on his underwear so that he would have a nice wet memory of our interlude for the rest of the evening, and a major cum stain as a souvenir.

    “Not a bad email result,” I remarked.
    “That was incredible,”  he replied, leaning against me, breathing heavily.  “I’ve fantasized about lots of stuff, including you.  But I never realized it could be like this.  That day in the Library, I thought I was in heaven.  But this was way better.”
    “I’m glad you liked it,” I said, as he relaxed further into my arms and turned to snuggle against my chest.  

    I heard footsteps approaching from the other end of the hall, and fearing that it might be time for evening staff to arrive, I had to cut our interlude short.  “Get your clothes on!” I said, as I pulled up my own pants.  TJ got his on as well, and slipped his tee shirt over his cummy chest.  We gathered up our books and left the tiny office.  “I think your project is really getting good,” I said as we exited the room.  “Just make those corrections, and check back with me, and I think that will finish it off.”  I closed the door and we walked down the hall, passing the evening instructor who sometimes used the office.
    “God! That was close!!” TJ said as we walked out of the building.  “We could have been caught with our pants down -- literally!”
    “Yeah, kind of gives the phrase new meaning, doesn’t it?” I said.  “Maybe we should find a better place next time.  You do want to do a next time, don’t you?”
    “I sure do.  After this introduction, I want to get to the main part right away!”
    “Well, think about where we can meet,” I said.  “That little office won’t work very often.”
    “My roommate goes home a lot,” he said.  “We can use my room whenever he’s gone.”
    “Cool,” I said.  “How soon can you get rid of him again?”
    “Actually, I think he’s going home for the weekend after classes tomorrow.  He’s ditching his Friday class.  You can come to my room then.  434 Creely.”
    “Sounds like a plan,” I said.  “Tomorrow after last class.  I can hardly wait.  In fact, it’ll be REAL hard waiting!  See you then.”
    “You got that right:  real hard.  See you!”  He turned to go, and I pondered the possibilities as I watched his cute ass disappear in the darkness.  My cock began to expand again, and I realized that as hard as the waiting until tomorrow would be, the result would be even harder.  And better.

                The End