"College Trance, Part One" by Jay Roberts Gay College
And Gay SciFi/Fantasy
+++You know the commercial where the guy says, "I'm no doctor,
but I play one on TV"? This disclaimer is similar. I am
no psychologist, no physiologist and no hypnotist, but I have
fucked all of them (hah). But quickly, after that curse,
let me dismiss all readers under 18. The rest stay and
get pleasantly tranced.
My roommate and I share a small warren off campus west of Columbia University. We knew each other in high school, slightly, but our parents were acquaintances and they arranged for us to room together.
Patrick and I are not really compatible, but being pretty decent nice guys, we manage to live together in relative harmony. It ain't easy for me. I am very gay and act gay and live gay. Patrick is bi I guess, because he had a girl friend all through high school and it wasn't platonic, just ask him.
He knows I have many boy friends (not all at once.) He is a serious boi and cracks the books very hard, but I know when the mood hits him, he finds relief from the many gays who hang out at a certain campus toilet. I won't tell you which. I don't want to ruin the game.
You may ask, why doesn't he make use of your full lips and hot tongue? He might, I wouldn't refuse. He's hotter than hot. Just picture a jock body, slightly hairy (reddish blond), square Jaw, blue eyes and...uh uh, I'm getting hard over the description.
I don't make any moves. Why? Firstly for keeping the roommate ship going. Secondly, because he never asked.
Sometimes he gets testy because I bring some twink to my room and he hears us, after all, our rooms have thin walls.
"Jeff, can you learn to cum quietly? You woke me up from a sound sleep as you screamed 'open you mouth and take it.'"
I laughed. "That was Johnnie, you need to tell him what to do".
Now to return to the matter of not being asked by Patrick, it isn't that I'm ugly, deformed, or freakish. No, I'm a fox. Imagine a tall, slim, smooth, dark eyed boy. That's me. I do have a large nose, but some people think it's sexy.
All this is leading up to tell you about the title, "College Trance." What's that all about?
I am a psych major. I am doing my thesis on trances. So far I have noted that hypnotism, TM, and many other states of relaxation and meditation have a component in common. During their induction and duration, the subject is slightly aware of a sound that seems to help prolong the state.
I have discovered that sound. It's a very low pitched base note sounded almost below the range of normal hearing. I can reproduce it with a device I have constructed from a guitar tuner.
Did you know that sometimes, inadvertently a lover produces that sound while passionate and thereby either seduces or maintains a dominance over the other person?
This is heavy stuff. My advisor warned me, "Jeff, you are treading where angels fear. Be careful, do no harm."
I told Patrick about the whole project tonight. He came home late and said that he was working in the library, but the dope's fly was open and he had a silly look on his face. It was a tip off that he had emptied his balls just before. That's okay, let the sweetie have his fun.
I quickly outlined my discovery. During my little lecture, he kept making doubting faces. You know, eyebrows lifting, mouth almost smiling and puffing out. He looked delicious like that. I wish I had gotten to him first tonight.
I showed him my little black tuner. "That's the magic gizmo? It looks like a tuner."
"It is, but I have reprogrammed it."
He nodded as if to humor me.
I was getting annoyed and shouldn't have said it, but I did. "Patrick, someday I'm going to turn this on near you and then refuse your request to have sex. What do you think of that?"
He laughed. "You welcome to try it sometime. Not right now. I'm a bit worn out."
Under my breath, I said, "I bet you are."
Falling asleep that night I pictured Patrick's thick Irish cock disappearing into some bleached blond boi. It was the first time I got stiff over Patrick.
The next morning I showered and dressed. He was still asleep. I know his schedule. There was no class under eleven. I made some breakfast and then took my coffee into our tiny livingroom. I saw the Tonal Facilitator" on the end table. That was my name for it. I picked it up and turned it on near my ear. I jumped. Shit this thing really worked. It was the first time that I had let it sound for more than a flash. My cock rose up hard and pulsing against my shorts. It happened so fast it bent painfully. I reached down from the waist band and eased it. At that moment, golden curly haired Patrick stumbled in the room. He was walking in his sleep, like all of us do, to piss without waking himself up. He was wearing only boxer shorts, his piss hard on pushing at the front. He scratched his chest, causing one nipple to pop into stiffness.
His eyes were closed to slits and his mouth was partly open. He looked like a young boy, cute, innocent and very, very desirable.
Should I or shouldn't I. I took a vote and asked the only responder, me. The answer came: Now or never.
I followed him into the bathroom. He wormed his cock out and put a hand on the wall in front of him and hung his pisser over the toilet and with a happy, sleepy sigh, let it rip. Wow, his piss had some power behind it, like a small fire hose.
I think he may have been dimly aware of me in the toilet but it was not so unusual as we did our stuff and shaved with the other one there. I'd say that we were as unconscious of nudity and bodily functions as two room mates could be.
So he didn't jump when I got close. It was the moment when he was urging out the last golden drops. He shook himself, maybe more than necessary, I think he liked that. Maybe he was planning to wipe one off when he got back to his room. He turned his head toward me, his face puffy with sleep, but his eyebrows lifted in a silent questions at my closeness.
I put the TF (tonal facilitator) behind his head and snapped it on. His face began to break into a smile and he got a little more vigorous with his regime of shaking off the last drop.
Continued in Part Two