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.
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A NiFTy LiTTLe TALe 05 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Jason walked through what he guessed was an empty corridor, whistling one of his favorite tunes from Rusted Root's new album, abruptly stopping. It's not he couldn't do two things at once, scour the four-way in the hall and carry on musically inclined, but he was by far totally off course, without a clue to which way to turn. Setting his bod on a step to the east, he instead changed footing and proceeded to the right, only to whisper to himself, "Maybe straight?"
He then laughs to himself, private joke, straight?' "Not on your life, buddy!" Giggling up a storm, Jason couldn't possibly imagine being straight'. In fact, thinking more on the opposite, the repulsive notion of `girl-sex', "Yuck!" he holds his stomach, with a deathly sick reaction.
"Are you okay?"
Turning around, Jason lay eyes on a dude, decked out in gym shorts and tank top. He was perspiring profusely, bod in a total sweat. Studying him for all of thirty seconds, Jason knew he was too old to be a student, saying, "No. Lost. Until my knight in shining armor happens by?"
"You think so?" the dude smiles. He then scares the bejesus out of Jason, "You know you could be in a bundle of trouble?"
Suddenly, Jason knew why. Already, he was under the impression a good percentile of Manfredi was laden with a gay population. He figured sooner, than later, he would turn a corner, again catching two dudes in some sort of gay configuration. Now, snagged, "Uh, sorry. I didn't mean anything by the `knight in'..."
With forthcoming, his mystery man says, "I know you didn't, but lucky for you I don't mind being tagged with being a knight," he walks right up to Jason, taps the back of his hand against the eighteen year old's stomach.
He made Jason smile, being all caught up in the innocence of the moment.
Then, realizing this had to be one of the professors at Manfredi and how someone could get into serious trouble coming on to a member of the faculty, Jason changes direction, "I only meant it as a figure of speech?"
Likewise, the unknown part of the equation, the other guy', thinking upon his little flirt', changes disposition, from sweet to more astute through the transition of a slight cough, "I'm Kevin Leeds, science professor here at Manfredi. And you are?"
By way of wording, Jason didn't need gaydar, "Jason Croft," teasing the teach, "student here at Manfredi."
Each provided a coquettish smile, lasting seconds.
"So," they both said.
"Go ahead," Professor Leeds replies.
"No, you."
"No, you," Leeds insists.
Jason more so, staring point blank at the angel-of-a-professor, "Age before beauty?" "You're such a flirt, but what I wanted to say, which probably has lost it's lackluster repose, I was put it to you, you have `the gift'?"
`Gaydar' came to mind, Jason saying, "Probably no more than you, since you had already molested me with your hand?"
The professor knew he wasn't serious, replying, "This?" he again slaps Jason's abs with a slight tapping of the knuckles. "You've got to be kidding?"
"Don't get your balls all twisted up, professor. I was only joking!"
"Well, I wouldn't exactly say my balls are twisted up, but there's definitely some disturbance in the force?"
Smiling, Jason says, "You're not alone on that one!"
Both have a good giggle over it!
"Well, I've just come in from my run and..."
Both already knowing they were on the same `gay page', Jason cuts the prof off, "Hey, wanna shower together?"
"Why? You don't look sweaty?" Leeds scans Jason's bod, returning to his face.
Jason observes, "If life could only be that simple, instead of so scientific?"
"Good analogy," Leeds awards, even though it wasn't the most profound theory he thinks a student has come up with.
"I can be halfway intelligent when I want to be, like now I've already got most of your stats memorized?"
"Oh really?" the science prof replies.
Like in class and fascinated by a student's assumption, say a contradictory theory on the Big Bang, Leeds stands there, arms folded across his chest, waiting for the student to offer clout to back up his theory.
He didn't want to let onto Leeds, checking out the folds of his gym shorts, so cut the descriptive part, "Tall, dark and well..." Jason's eyes wander down below Leeds' folded arms...
"It's okay to estimate!"
"Uh, six or seven? Cut?" Jason guesses.
Before he happened upon Jason in the hallway, Professor Leeds was on his way to find the custodian. All stripped down and ready to shower, he had to redress in his grimy tank and shorts, skipping the socks and lacing up his sneakers without them, because instead of his shower getting steamy, he jumped out when `cold' rained down on him. Right now he was feeling pretty steamy, "The reason I'm out here in the first place and not in the shower..."
Jason listened intently, like being told something vital, like a lecture on `how to breathe', finding out Manfredi had some quirks, the hot water kicking out just when it was needed, responding, "I believe you."
"You do? I mean, why would you doubt..."
Smiling, Jason, forgetting the environment he's in, "Oh, no reason. I just thought maybe you had dropped the soap, had no one to pick it up for you and came running out here, in the guise of a jogger, looking for some `male' to pick it up for you?"
Knowing they were both on the same page, like five minutes ago, Professor Leeds is not intimidated by the teacher-student relationship, "Damn!"
"What?" Jason says, staring with eyes wide open.
"I think you've given me a boner!"
His chin dropping faster than Superman running around the block, "No way!" Uprighting it just as quick, "I don't see anything?"
"The jock strap keeps it nice and `tidy'!"
By this time, Jason felt like chums, gathered at the local gay bar. Feeling frisky, he inserts a finger, right into the elastic of the gym shorts...
"Oh shit!" Leeds backs away, the waistline snapping back.
Probably Jason should have felt intimidated by the professor's action, realizing they indeed were not in a gay bar, but the highly acclaimed school environment. Instead, since he felt so much comfortable conversation had passed between them, replies, "I only wanted a little peek!" he giggles it off, saying, "Sorry," but not really meaning it.
There were no harsh words, it never entering the professor's mind that he should be whipping out a demerit pad and taking down what just occurred, a student pulling on his jock pants and peering down inside, to get a glimpse of his hard inches of caged, cut meat, just to satisfy a curiosity, "Uh, I better get a move on it and find the custodian or I'll never make dinner. Nice to have met you, Mr. Croft!"
Watching the professor jog away, Jason wasn't immune to the satiny shorts, possibly enhanced by sweat, showing off two rounded melons.
"Hey professor?!" Jason exclaims.
Jogging back, Leeds asks, "What's up?"
"You didn't have to run all the way back here. I just wanted to tell you, you have a nice ass!" Jason stood there, tongue in cheek, waiting for a reply to his daring comment.
Noticeably glancing down, the prof replies, "Nice anatomy yourself there Croft! Later!" he runs off like he's being chased down!
Turning, walking, Jason couldn't deny his lower anatomy wasn't responding to... Everything about his knight in shining armor!
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Itching all afternoon to beat off, none of the other by chance meetings had done it for Jason. Leaving the quadrant where he conversed with Professor Leeds, he realizes he never got the answer to his question. He was still lost!
Without completing eenie-meenie-miney-mo', both index fingers switching around in different directions, he takes a step in the direction the professor had come from, west or left. Dead silence permeated from the hallway, until he heard a grunt'. Part thinking, part imagination, Jason exclaims, "Whoo-hoo!"
When he walks into the mens room, Jason is confronted by two guys he's never met. The `bottom' dude's pants are down around his ankles, hands holding onto the sink.
Top-fucker, even though ceasing the pulling-out, rather sinking-in, in a rough demonstration of how much he's loving this, doesn't even turn to face Jason, barking, "We're busy. Do your business and get the fuck outta here!"
"I just need to piss," Jason lies, unbuckling his belt and walking over to a urinal.
Taking his sweet time, Jason works his cock out of his underwear, all to the sounds of the disturbance of the peace, bottom man squealing, which gives Jason an impression, `big tool!' It was a good place to be. Knowing his intentions were not to use the urinal for hot piss, he still knew it was better his hot jizz winding up on the floor. They could probably use his DNA to track him down, should some student slip on his slimy creme and break a vertebrae! With this dogma surrounding him, coupled with sounds, Jason hasn't realized all the stroking has made his pants drop from his torso, to his ankles.
Lost in his own erotic world, though still his ears picking up on the sexual soundtrack, Jason is suddenly rocked off his foundation by the top man shouting, "Now get outta here, whore!"
"Oops!" Jason whispers to himself, hand freezing on his precummed, sloppy cock.
Not finished with what he started, to pee', or ejaculate, as the case is, Jason begins the coverup, reaching down to grab his jeans. Oh shit!' he says to himself, when pulling up, his briefs get trapped by his balls. Too, it came to him, whereas taking a piss took roughly two minutes, it's obvious, to come to full erection state, get in the mindframe and stroking in full sync and almost to the eruption state, he had to be standing there at the urinal for close to eight minutes?
"Long piss?"
"Huh?" Jason was startled, but acted cool right after.
Jason was instantly relieved the dude was not standing there next to him, looking down into his jeans, seeing he had to physically deposit his slimy junk in the pocket of his underwear before zipping up. Aware the dude is standing at the basin, gazing into the mirror, combing his hair and assuming the assumable, confesses-up, "Uh, yeah. I have to admit you two guys got the best of me and... well, I've been pent up all afternoon..."
At first Jason divided his eyes between the combing top and what he was doing, painfully stuffing his stiff cock into his tight jeans, doing his troubling business of zipping up, fastening the button... It's then he realizes, `now' the dude standing there, right next to him!
He could have sworn the dude was ready to punch him out for the petty crime of wanting to get in on the action, even if remotely involved, but instead the top says, "If I had the time, I would do you too!"
He was a pretty tough character, seemingly so. Sometimes tough guys like that, which Jason took as guys who liked to bully other guys, stuff he didn't go for, instead of backing down, which if the guy was hot enough, he wouldn't mind taking it down the throat or up the ass, "Well, I haven't come yet. All you have to do is drop your pants and hug the sink?"
"You think so," the top challenges. Rather than add pros or cons to Jason's thinking, he diverts the subject matter, "Dinner call is in twenty minutes. Trust me, you don't want to be late!"
"Uh, wait!" Jason calls out.
Probably the top dude had it on his mind, Jason caving in, "Yes?"
"I'm lost."
There was considerable disappointment. He was young, frisky, able to reproduce twice in a row, replenishment instantaneous and this top thinking Jason hot enough to `do him', though with the weird response, "Lost? Like how does that go?"
"My friend, Graeme, he was showing me around, but had to go and..."
"Graeme, huh?"
"You know him?" Jason asks.
He assumed the position, exactly as Professor Leeds had done, and speaking with authority, "Know him? If you're up for it, Graeme and me host an occasional get together. If I knew your name, I'd mention it to him about inviting you?"
A roundabout manner of introductions, Jason still doesn't let his top-guard down, "You first?"
Relinquishing, something he rarely did, the top dude replies, "Poul Olaf." He was good at reading people, however miffed because he could not get a bearing on Jason. Perplexed, for now he accepted him as a `dominant top' because, by Poul's definition, Jason was not behaving like a submissive dude. Instead of roughly slapping Jason across the face, the way Poul liked to play, he took his hand and behaved like a gentleman. Too, he was in a public place, not behind an intimate, closed door and felt he had to respond as such.
"Jason Croft," he welcomed the handshake.
Wearing a crude smile, Poul says, "I like you," and hardly a breath, "do you like to fuck guys?"
Not ready to let down his guard, Jason replies, "Why? You versatile?"
Looking at his cell phone, Poul ever ready to rush off to an important' call, a needy' client, leads Jason off subject, "I better catch a shower before dinner." Off the wall question, "Who you rooming with?"
"That's the whole thing," Jason readies to start at the reason he's walking the hall, "There's been a foul up. I was on my way to Dean Martin's office to..."
"Cool!" The of Poul's voice bellows thoughout the mens room. "Perfect timing!" Throwing his hands up in the air, the Scandinavian crash-lands both palms on Jason's shoulders!
"What's cool and perfect?"
"You don't have a room." Cracking a half-smile, "I don't have a room mate. Where's your stuff?"
He was all ready to be ushered out by way of the door, seemingly with no choice in the matter. However, Jason had already gained approval of how he perceived the gruff top, not to mention the tall blond, blue-eyed bombshell's `long extension', half-planted. Knowing things needed upper staff approval, "Don't we need to run this by Dean Martin?"
"Dean, schmean," trifling, Poul flutters it away, "I'll square it away with the dean come Monday morning."
Without knowing Poul, Jason had the feeling his talk was not just the talk', him having clout', for reasons he could only speculate on. He sensed Poul wasn't giving him much choice in the matter, not that, with roughly 30 hours before the beginning of the fall semester at Manfredi and most rooms booked, he had little option.
Exiting one building, entering another, Jason is surprised by the familiar surroundings, the lobby of the student dorms.
Choosing the elevator, rather than the brisk walk up 3 flights, something which would not be a chore for either of them, Poul makes small talk of their ride, "One of my favorite places to get it on," he pushes a button which freezes the ascent of the elevator between floors. Joking, he says, "Dammit! Stuck again!"
Standing to the back of the elevator, Jason reaches between Poul's arm and torso, pushing the red button, restarting the moving cart, "I thought you were in a hurry to get to dinner?"
Sliding his hand out, Jason flirts with placing his palm on the front of Poul's shirt, unknowingly right over his bellyhole and planes it around the Scandinavian's side, before returning it to his own person.
Any other guy, mostly they would be in a bundle on the floor, succumbing to Poul's knee to the balls. Instead, Jason was given leeway, "I've got to hand it to you Jason... You've got balls!"
Even though Poul had just emptied his own sacs, the reservoirs were quickly being flooded, which made him think again about the room mate situation. How easy it would be to get to know Jason if they resided in the same environment, making it less of a chore to become buddies with a guy who would fit in perfectly well with Graeme's and his Saturday night parties.
Jason wasn't at all surprised Poul ushered him out of the elevator, hand paving the way, with the greeting, You first?' With his rocket scientist' mind, Jason had Poul already pegged. A tough guy like this doesn't lower himself this way unless he wants something.
Likewise, on Poul's mind, they were both on the same train-track. Yet, instead of a smooth ride, they headed in opposite directions, towards each other. On a collision course, the 20 year old leading the way for now, in hopes a time would come when he would totally fool the sheep led into the lion's den!
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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.