This is the fictional memoir of a gay man, told in the first person. Some of the stories in this series are based on actual experiences, usually embellished a lot, as well as completely fictional ones. They depict sex between consenting adult males. If this offends you, do not read them. These are my stories. Please respect the copyright. If you enjoy them, let me know at johntheartist@hotmail.com. Please Contribute to Nifty.org and keep this wonderful resource going!
In the previous chapter, C'est La Vie! 6, I described how my grad-student sex tutor in college, Jason, introduced me to group sex at a pool party and how that party concluded.
C'est La Vie!: 1979, The Boy at the Party
During the summer of 1978 I became much more relaxed and comfortable with my new-found sexuality. I had not come out yet, except to a few friends, but shortly after the first semester of my junior year at the university started, I joined the relatively new gay, lesbian and bisexual student center. Some of the other members had been out even in high school, and they urged me to come clean with my parents and family, and told me that they would help me work on how to bring it up, and support me afterward.
I appreciated their support, but it was still hard. My parents were intelligent and not, to my knowledge, bigoted, but this was uncertain territory for me, since I had never discussed sex or my intimate friends with them.
One weekend in early October, when I was home for the weekend, I got my courage up, and told them after we had had dinner on Sunday. They were shocked ("But you never acted gay!"), but after talking a couple of hours, they softened a bit, and I could see that they would eventually come around.
Still, it was the hardest conversation I had had in my young life. Lots of people then thought that gayness could be cured with therapy and I think that is what they were thinking. Anyway, I couldn't change myself, and so decided that they would have to live with it.
Also, I thanked them for hearing me out, and that helped a lot.
The fall semester went by quickly. My school work was good, and besides my art courses, there was a wealth of great stuff to delve into: history, literature, some science, and I ended the semester in a frenzy of work. And I found time, of course, for more experimentation with other guys. One of them I met at the gay and lesbian center, Raymond, a hot black kid from Chicago who was super-endowed and showed me how to deal with getting fucked by a big cock and really enjoy it. We got together many times before we both graduated two years later.
The second semester had just started in mid-January and I was going to turn 21 in a couple of months. I was looking forward to hanging out in the barsÑlegitimatelyÑat last.
GLB center was having its first party of the semester. I got there after the party was in full swing, around ten, and a lot of the kids were dancing: guys with guys, girls with girls, and some mixed couples. I got a Coke and stood over at the side enjoying the music, watching the dancing, not really in the mood to dance myself. A lot of the kids on the dance-floor were students I knew, and some of them I had had encounters with, or dated a few times.
I had been standing about twenty minutes, when a young man came in who I had not seen before. He was about my height, wearing jeans and a T-shirt under his winter jacket. He had a cute face, curly black hair to match dark eyes, and olive skin. He walked over to near where I was standing, and took his coat off, revealing a real eye-full: a nice muscular athletic body showed clearly under his shirt, his jeans close-fitting, like most guys wore then, and showed off a great pair of thighs and a full basket. He smiled at me as he found a place for his jacket and grabbed a Coke from the refreshment table. Then he wandered over to where I was standing.
"Sam," he announced, holding out is hand.
I took it. "John," I replied. "I haven't seen you here before, Sam," I said.
"First time," he said. "Someone told me these parties could be fun, or at least you could sometimes meet someone here, y'know what I mean?"
"Yeah," I said. "This one is kinda tame though, or maybe it just hasn't gotten going yet."
"Yeah, well, maybe next time," he said. "I'm in the mood for a beer, and there isn't any here. Want to join me?"
"Sure," I said, "but I'm not twenty-one yet."
"No problem, I have some at my place. Wanna come over?"
"Yeah," I replied, maybe a little too quickly. He smiled and we picked up our jackets and left, one of the quickest pick-ups I had ever experienced.
While we walked to his apartment we shared some info about each other: he was a senior, from Chicago, theater major, interested in set design and lighting. I told him about my studies in studio art, and pretty soon we were having a lively discussion about visual arts. Quickly enough, we had walked the few blocks to his apartment. He opened the door, and gestured to the couch.
"Beer, or would you rather share a joint?" he asked.
"Joint," I said without hesitation, knowing how horny smoking dope made me.
As he went to his room to get the joint, I started looking at the gay magazines on his coffee table. The young, hard bodies pictured were a real turn-on, and I felt my cock rising in my pants. He came back in the room, lit the joint and inhaled deeply, then handed it to me. As I was inhaling, he opened the magazine to a spread with two guys kissing each other, and other pictures where they were sucking, playing with each others hard cocksÑof course really big onesÑand the like.
"What do you think of these guys?" he asked.
"They're really hot," I said.
"I think you're hotter," he said. He looked at me intensely, and I could see that he had a big erection in his pants. "I like guys like you: slim and wiry, like a runner, not a weight-lifter."
I was speechless, and just stared at him, feeling incredibly high from the couple of tokes I had taken on the joint. He put the joint down in an ashtray, moved closer to me and, putting his arm around my shoulders, pulled me into a deep kiss.
As we kissed, I let my hands play over his T-shirted torso, feeling the muscles underneath, letting them drift down his back, and resting them on his meaty thighs. He did the same, pulling me tighter to him, kissing me hungrily. His hand descended to my crotch and found my hard cock under the fabric of my jeans, causing me to gasp loudly.
"Oh, yeah," he whispered," this is what life's all about."
He took his arm off my shoulders, and stood up, taking my hand and leading me from the sofa toward the bedroom, grabbing the joint as he moved away from the sofa. In the bedroom, he lit it again, took a hit, and handed it to me.
"Sex is so hot with pot," he said in a gasp as he held the smoke in his lungs, and as I did the same, he peeled off his t-shirt, showing me his beautiful cut body, prominent brown nipples, smooth chest and little love trail descending into his pants. When I handed him back the joint, he put it in an ashtray and helped me off with my own T-shirt.
When it was off, he looked at me, smiling appreciatively. I was defined, in the sense of no fat on my torso at that time, but without the mounds of muscle that he had. He was delighted with what he saw though, and smiled as he put out his hands and slowly caressed my chest and shoulders, bringing me back into another kiss.
Then he stood a step away, and started to undo my belt buckle, pausing to kiss me a couple of times in the process. He pushed my pants down around my thighs, and moved forward to mouth my hard cock through the fabric of my Jockey shorts.
He helped me to step out of my pants, and then stood up to kiss me again, and said, "And now my turn," so I undid his belt and lowered his jeans, and knelt to work his cock through the fabric stretched over his hard cock. It looked like we were both about the same length, seven inches or so, but he was thicker.
I couldn't wait to go further, and pulled his briefs over his erection and pushed them to the floor. His naked body was simply beautiful. Even he legs were quite smooth, just a little hair on his calves and shins. His cock curved up and stood up very hard at a sharp angle. He had a fading ghost of a strong tan-line from last summer.
I stood up to kiss him some more, and as I did, he pushed my shorts down, and slowly started to stroke my cock. I followed suit, enjoying the feel of his thick hardness in my hand.
He turned and lay on the bed, and gestured for me to lie on top of him. We kissed and caressed, rolled over and over, took turns sucking each other's cocks, and worked our way around to an extended 69. At one point I looked at the clock and realized that we had been going at it for almost forty minutes. I thought "that's what pot will do to you" and then realized I would be hungry when the sex was over, another effect of smoking.
Finally, as I was lying on top of him, he raised up his feet and locked his ankles behind my back, pushing his cock up against mine and my belly, and pulling me to his chest, devouring my mouth with his.
"Fuck me," he begged. I was surprised, thinking that I would end up being the bottom, but I was only too happy to comply. I pushed toward his waiting hole and he reached down to guide me home. I slowly pushed into him all the way, and then started my tango of love with him.
The pot was heightening the sensations for both of us and we fucked, clinging close to each other for a while, before I got up on my arms and he massaged my chest and I smiled into his face as I picked up the speed a little. In that position, he had a little more freedom, and he raised his ass in rhythm to my thrusts. As he did so, his abs contracted into a sweat-slicked washboard, and his chest and biceps flexed as they pushed to support my shoulders, while I struggled to move my face down to his for more kisses.
The climax came slowly and intensely, and he was the first to shoot, ropes of white cum over his chest, hitting his neck, and pooling in his navel. The added thrusts of his ass, and his sphincter clenching as he came pushed me over the edge, and I shot deep in his warm ass.
Our thrusting slowly wound down, and our desperate gasps became panting, and then longer breaths, and I finally moved my body onto his, his cum squishing between us, and my cock finally slipping out of his ass as our mouths met and we kissed for a few minutes. We fell asleep for perhaps twenty minutes, before we finally stirred, and he said "Shower?"
We played in the shower, just goofing around, and then were back in bed making love again, this time with me bottoming. I stayed the night, and we had another hot wake-up session the next morning. After that, we got together every so often until he graduated, and we lost track of each other. We were never really boyfriends, but we did have some hot sex together for a few months. Sometimes a really uncomplicated relationship is just the right thing for a while and when your life gets complicatedÑ like it can when you get olderÑyou yearn for such uncomplicated days.