Blue Streaks in My Hair

Blue Streaks in my Hair

Blue Streaks in my Hair

I was sooo nervous. It was my first day at the university. I wanted to make a good impression, but I had recently come out to my high school friends, and I was expecting a little more out of college than just an education! All my friends in high school took it pretty well. I knew not to try my parents. They were a scary southern brood. So, after two years of near-high school at a two-year college, I managed to escape my parents to live by myself (well, myself and a roommate) at the residence hall.

Today was my first day at the university. I was getting ready in front of the mirror in my dorm room. I checked out myself. I was one of those "squat" type men that seemed destined to play football. I had boring brown hair, green eyes, no facial hair, hairy chest, treasure trail, nice pubic thatch of chestnut hair, reasonably big penis, and huge balls. Hair coursed down my legs and up my back. My point was: if you didn't like the hair, you didn't like me. So far no one liked me, but I had a feeling that that was going to change.

I had been told plenty of times (always by girls) that I was pretty good looking. Not a model type, but strangely handsome in my own way. But, I couldn't count on that being the only thing to attract the same sex. No sir-ee, Bob. I took out the can that looked like hairspray from the cabinet. It was for theatre shows, etc. But, I planned to use it to set myself a little apart from the rest. I wanted to be noticed. I wanted some guy in class to take notice. So, I painted narrow blue streaks down the sides of my head. I wanted people to know I was different. That would weed out some of the usual contenders (like girls, hopefully). I dressed in a colorful sweater (it was fall), tight jeans, and some obviously gay leather shoes--you know the ones. Chestnut-colored leather with a snapped section across the top. Believe me: so few heteros wear these in the South that it is a dead give away that you are a flaming homosexual. And, that, my friends, is what I wanted to broadcast loudly after 20 years in Boring Town!

Yes, I was at least going to find a gay drinking partner. I needed one desperately, as I was about to turn 21! I had to have someone I trusted and wanted to fuck close by as I got noshed for the first time! Who the hell wants to be alone on their twenty-first birthday? I wanted a boyfriend, or at least some bisexual that I swooned over! Please.

So, the first class of the day was Advanced Composition. Oh, I loved English classes. Those cute bookish boys always gravitated towards them. Believe you me, glasses, scare-crow-like bodies, and a literary mind do not put me off in the least. I'd love England--if it weren't so far away! So there I was: I'd already done a geeky thing. I'd already walked to my classes the day before to make sure I wouldn't look like a fool on the first day. I was determined to look cool my first day (at least). So, I made it to the classroom early that day. I guess that was a geeky thing to do as well, but you know that's some of the best time to meet people. And, I had to meet some cute, virginal guy, so that we could shake off the bonds of conformity and enjoy the pleasures of the youthful physique.

Okay, you must know that high level English classes do have their fair share of gay men in them, but (and this is the disappointing part) they also have the most female students of many of the classes on campus. I took a seat on the front row: the teacher gives you better marks, you stay awake better, and it's easier to see men leaving for the rest room. I have no shame. C'mon, 20 years? Plus, you're the first thing they see when they enter the room.

Now, the South also has its fair share of people who do not know that they are gay (and may never). I don't fault them, but I do not want to find myself drinking with them. It is sooo sad. Anyway, to make a long story shorter: I was rewarded for my diligence. A beautiful redheaded man entered in the room. He was tall with alabaster skin (some call it "pasty," but it works for Snow White and many others) and the most charming personality (I was going to realize as we parlayed during the class). He even walked towards where I was sitting. Bent down (he was, oh, so tall!) and asked me:

"Is this seat taken?"

It was the seat next to me! I couldn't breathe. That man was sooo fine. His short red hair, his cute face, his extended physique (oh, what treasures his pants must hide!). I knew I must have done something rather good in a past life, I assure you. If he were straight, I would die a thousand deaths!

"Oh, no. Please sit down."

I moved my notebook generously, trying not to stare as the beautiful Irish specimen of manhood took the seat next to me. And, Gentlemen, God was good that day. His knees nearly didn't fit under the wooden desk, and they brushed mine a little too often for the law of averages. I thought I was going to wet myself right there! The class itself was incredibly boring but brief, what little I noticed that day. We had herbal tea together after class. He had some serious gay traits, and I thanked God for every one of them. It was not easy to walk back to the dorm alone after that (my erection notwithstanding), but I headed for the rest room instead at first. There would be plenty of time to get his phone number! And, there was.

"So, you want to go out to eat this Friday night? I could pay. It's no big deal." Are there sweeter words in the world? So, we went. We had a good time. We stared at one another blatantly.

"Yes, that would be great."

I got to know him a bit. He actually confided in me that he thought he was "curious." I'm sure he knew I was gay by then. I confided in him that I liked men better than girls. He took that rather well. In fact, it opened up a whole new conversation: What had I done about it?

Well, I began, you know: the usual stuff when you sleep over at another guy's house. He, of course, wanted to know what that entailed. I was being coy, but I didn't want to be stuck with some confused straight guy, let me assure you. Still, he was very fuckable, if I may be so bold.

"I'll do anything, as long as you are willing to do it back to me." He finally said. I was floored beyond my years. Then, reality set in--he was waiting for an answer.

"I'm willing." I finally said, not as quickly as you might think. I wanted the roses and the coffee at midnight, but this was a chance to "get some." To finally see what gay sex was about. Or, at least, bi-sex (as he still was not sure). He had an uncle who was gay, but they had never done anything. Now, was the time for all good gay guys to finally get some gay sex. And, I had to try it. If I never got another chance (remember: the South is the kiss of death to homoerotica), I'd be sick that I passed this one by. Oh, damn it, I'm a whore. Anyway...

Michael and I arrived separately at the room he had rented for us at a local motel. It was your average hotel room. Beigey colors. I was going to lose my "virginity" in a place like this? I guessed so.

"Remember: Anything can happen here; but, when we walk out that door, I'm straight, unless I tell you different. Got it?"

"Got it." My soul sort of groaned, but we went on with it.

He smiled as he shucked his clothes off. He was not shy. He took them all off quickly. I did the same, somewhat more hesitantly. Where was this guy from again? I hadn't asked. Ireland, I guess. I saw the pride of Ireland there, my friends. His white, white skin, his little red treasure trail, his thatch of red hair, his large, long penis (cut like mine), and those wispy red hairs on his long legs. I already wanted to see his pucker, but that was coming. As was I, if I wasn't careful. He was a sight to see.

He seemed to like what I had to offer too. He helped me get the last of my clothes off.

"So, what do we do first?" He asked. That's when I decided to take over, as I was supposed to be the most experienced here.

I led him over to the bed. I had him sit with his back against the headboard of the bed. He smiled and let me. I went down to his feet, kneeling next to the side of the bed. He liked it when I gave him a toe bath with my mouth. He had long, hairy toes, and his feet were really long, but not really big. He enjoyed that and reciprocated. I found it a bit too ticklish for my liking, strangely enough. It looks so sensual in the movies.

Next, we explored each other's legs, caressing them. That took much less time than I thought it would. I loved the hair on his legs, though. And, I think he liked mine. Our silky strands were somehow erotic. I wanted this to go slow, but my penis was beginning to pulsate. Our chests were another thing. We liked sucking each other's nipples, but they were so sensitive at this point. We tried kissing, but Michael was not really into that, apparently. I guess he felt weird kissing a man's lips. At this point, I didn't care.

I licked around his armpits. They smelled too much like deodorant for me to go very far. Michael reciprocated mechanically. So, finally, we had gotten to what I thought would be the best part: cock and ass. I greedily sucked at his penis. I had imagined this was pretty great from the porno tapes I had collected over the years. He quickly told me to avoid using my teeth. They never tell you that on the videos. He did it to me. Unfortunately, his heart was not in it. Still, it felt great. I finally told him that he didn't have to do what I was about to do to him. He nodded.

I began to lick and suck on each of his red balls. They were not as hairy as my own, but I could feel each individual hair as I serviced him. I even went up and behind his nuts to the perineum. He groaned a bit. I felt like some animal. Nosing about in the nest of hair above his dick, I licked at his hair, as it smelled so lovely to me. It had to be just sweat and oil, but I loved it. He smelled so good.

And, even I was apprehensive about the next part. I turned him over. He immediately said:

"You can't fuck me! Don't do it! I'll kick the piss out of you, if you try!"

Oh, I'd hit a sore spot there, no? In any case, I told him that I was about to lick his ass.

"What for? That is nasty! What do you want to do that for?"

"Look, you don't even have to lick mine. I just want to. Okay?"

He let me, after being assured again that I didn't want to fuck him. I did, but that might have to wait. I discovered that he had showered before this little session began, and he was very clean back there. I don't know why I felt led to do it, but I really wanted to lick his ass. It was so smooth and red. I licked and licked. I (strangely) didn't want it to end. Michael admitted he liked it afterwards. He just was not used to anyone trying to do that with him. He wanted to try it on some girl, apparently. Sheesh. So much for helping some gay brother see the light.

"So, do you want me to fuck you?" I was not so sure after the ass licking he did not reciprocate.

"Okay, but you have to use lube and wear a condom and stop when I say stop. Okay?"

"Sure."

This was a scary proposition to me. I had heard that you could get REALLY hurt back there, if someone did it wrong. So, I thought about this a little longer than the other things we had done.

"You have to be really gentle and slow and ... you know."

"I think I can handle that." His false sense of self-confidence concerned me, but I had to see what it was like.

Michael really liked it (of course). I think he really enjoyed the individual attention I gave his cock. I sucked on it a bit to get it hard again. Then, I unrolled the condom over the penis, down to the pubic hair. Then, I rubbed on some KY liquid ™. He was in ecstasy. He closed his eyes. I thought he was going to pop right there, so I quickly had him sit on the bed with his back against the headboard again. I quickly discussed how he should keep his dick up in the air, so that I could sit on it. He nodded with a smile.

I said my prayers to the saints of mercy and pain, and I sat down. At first, I felt him not so much, as he had to find my hole. Eventually, I discovered that it hurt. It hurt a lot. And, he just kept on penetrating into my anus. Eventually, I had had it with that. I confirmed what I had always thought I knew: that I was a top and Michael was going to be difficult to train, if he would even consider it. Next, we just sat next to each other, against the headboard. Michael was being nice to me, after he realized he had hurt me. He kissed me again, even though I knew it went against his macho ethics. Finally, we just agreed to have a mutual jack off session. That went well, but I wondered if this had ruined my chances with Michael forever. Only time would tell. I had gotten most of what I wanted, though I really needed to find a real "bottom," I supposed. Still Michael was hot. But, if he was going to leave me for some woman...

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