I practically burst from the admin building into a crisp fall afternoon. Our college town probably looked a lot like yours. Looking out at the expanse of campus, students were milling between libraries and dorms, or headed to find lunch. The admin building opened up directly onto the main quad where some boys were playing frisbee, while other groups sat at tables and benches talking.
At least, I would have noticed all these subtleties and human beauty of a fall college campus, but my brain had been short circuited about 15 minutes ago when my college advisor had given me my first blowjob in his office. He'd swallowed my load, and now I had suddenly been passed back into the real world. It was surreal.
I felt like I had been cast in a bizarre crossover movie - you know, the kind that mashes two casts and universes together, even though nobody ever meant for it to be that way? Like Alien vs. Predator, except I had come from a normal college movie and suddenly been introduced to a high budget porno flick. But it was real: David from Grindr, Alex from the party, and now Mr. Reed.
I stood in the crisp breeze of an mid-September day and ran my fingers over my forehead and through my hair. I had to shake this off. If every sexual experience I was going to have was going to throw off my whole sense of self, I'd be failing out of college or something. I needed to get focused, get some homework done, clean my dorm room, get some lunch...
I was in the middle of a 15 point to-do list for Friday and had begun to stride across the quad when I felt two arms grab around my thighs and let out a startled gasp. Henry, gentle giant that he was, had wrapped me in a slow-motion tackle that brought me down into the damp grass. That night, my very last thought would be about how it was even physically possible to tackle someone from the side that gently. Henry may very well have been a wizard, after all.
"Dude, you tryna' ghost me? 'Cause I'll bring your ass down any day." Henry had hopped right back to his feet and offered me a hand. Looking up at him, I took the opportunity for another mental snapshot. Henry's toned legs led into black, slim gym shorts and a nice short sleeved henley. He looked so quintessentially college boy-next-door, and the afternoon sun framed perfectly behind him. He offered his hand to help me up, and I took it.
"Oh - I'm - Yeah, sorry, I was meeting with my advisor and it ran long." I explained, flustered from the tackle, the blowjob, Henry's presence, and being completely starving. I think I had finally reached peak fluster actually.
We walked through the quad towards the cafeteria, where it seems lunch plans had materialized. Earlier, we'd texted about the girl from the Night at Pine Drive, but now we walked and awkwardly recapped the events of the night together. Me, doing everything I could to drive the conversation away from the conclusion of the night, and Henry clearly pushing forward.
For the first time, I devoted a little mental energy myself to processing Alex. I hadn't thought much about him other than the embarrassment of the end, but I saw his face so clearly in my mind. Yes, me and Alex had unfinished business - but I had no way of finding him. In modern day America, I had a feeling there would be more than 1 or 2 Alex's at school.
Finally, I had to give into Henry and quit dancing around the end of the night which hovered between us. But I certainly wasn't going to go down without a fight.
"I wondered something, about someone at the party." I said. I pictured myself with an angel and a devil on each shoulder, except in this case, the devil was shy and nervous Connor, and the angel was legal representation for my cock. The devil was saying: Dude, forget about Alex and just avoid this topic forever with Henry because otherwise he'll probably get creeped out at your gay party antics. The angel said: You're an idiot and if Henry thinks you're not entitled to giving some head at a party or you're a gay slut, then he can fuck off.
Henry silenced the stupidly mundane inner dialogue for me, thank god. "Yeah? Who?" He had graciously asked who to save me the discomfort, but the near-physical elephant in the room was clearly who.
"Uh, um, well his name was Alex - I had -- well we hung out a lot, and I wondered if you knew him or anything." I spit it out and Henry split into a grin and side-eyed me as we pushed through the doors to the student center.
"Hung out? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" And Henry said it with such genuine humor that I had to laugh along with him.
"Hell if I know what they're calling it, but I didn't get his number or his last name or anything." I shrugged as we moved through the line, grabbing a sad looking slice of pizza from under a heat lamp.
"Weeeell, let's just say I may have a lead or two that might know him. I'll keep you posted." Henry thumped me on the back and I let out a long exhale. Our friendship had clearly survived him watching me leave a bathroom with another dude, and when I really think about it, that wasn't surprising at all. It was over and we could shove the awkward memory out of our lives forever.
Just kidding. Henry spent all of lunch quizzing me about my encounter with Alex. I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to wash the pink back out of my face. Talking about sex was needlessly hard for me.
"So, what'd you guys do in there? I mean, it was a small bathroom so it can't imagine much, but I've seen some pretty crazy positions..." Henry sat across from me in a booth made for 6 people, but only seating us. Henry would always do that, take the best table even if it was just us.
"Barely anything happened. Don't worry about it." I shook my head and took a bite out of my pizza.
"But you used protection, right? Or are you pregnant? Or do you not do it "that" way?" He pressed on, laughing.
"As far as I know, I'm not pregnant but I'll keep you updated on the test results. You could be the godfather." I joked back, physically willing myself to loosen up. Remember Mr. Reed?
"Wait, so you really do it that way?" Henry grinned as if he had discovered some great secret.
"What? No, I was just kidding. We didn't do anything like that." I corrected.
"But, are you a twink or a bottom?" I actually cracked up at this and it was a good thirty seconds before I could summon a response. Somewhere along the lines, Henry had clearly been sorrowfully misinformed about gay terminology.
"Well, first of all, you should brush up on your gay dictionary. Second of all, I'm not really either." This conversation was so uncomfortably open that I could barely stand it.
"Okay, but was he hung? I at least know what hung means." Henry joked, but there was a tone of seriousness there too. Visions of Alex's fantastically nice, curved, cut cock flashed in my mind. The answer was, of course, yes.
"Oh, well, he was fine." I admitted, in my first actual acknowledgement that anything other than respectable hand washing had happened in the bathroom that night.
"How was the girl you were with, anyway? What happened there?" I made my best attempt at turning the tables.
"She was fuckin' hot dude. I got her number but she was too drunk to go home with anyone. Worst blue balls of my life." He excitedly explained. I thought for a second on this statement which one, meant that Henry was a "good" guy who didn't take advantage which I respected a lot and two, made my cock instantly hard. The thought of Henry leaving a party unsatisfied struck me as pretty fucking hot. I thought I'd like to have taken care of him for a second - and then banished that thought into the graveyard I had made a habit of sending sexualized Henry thoughts to. He was my best friend.
"From the look of it, you were in the same place last night, am I right?" He added, knowingly.
"Well, a bit. Survivable, and definitely not the worst of my life." I joked back. I felt like we were now back into the less awkward zone of locker room talk.
"Dude, I rubbed one out this morning and it was huge. Like a gallon, at least. At least!" He joked again, and my cock throbbed at this intimate knowledge of Henry's morning routine.
"Henry, you're one crazy kid. Crazy." I put an end to it there, with a mental note to remember the conversation. I mean, it was decent jerk off material at least.
We finished our lunches and parted for the day. Henry had plans to drive home that night and I was sorely wondering if that meant I'd be watching movies in my dorm all weekend.
In answer to my prayers, I felt my phone buzz against my leg and saw a text from David. He had attached a picture of his cock and captioned it: "Got plans tonight?" It looked like I might be able to get up to something, after all, but I waited to respond.
On the walk back to my dorm, I thought a lot on my conversation with Henry and my morning with Mr. Reed which we hadn't talked about. Like any rational person, Henry hadn't pressed me at all on my student advising appointment and I certainly wasn't going to bring it up with him.
Still, I felt a pang of guilt and hurt in my stomach when I thought about Henry. In Henry, I saw a better and improved version of a high school best friend turned mad crush I once held. Porter had been my best friend for six years, and slowly discovering my sexuality with that boy had left me longing for a very straight friend.
Falling for a straight guy hurt - it actually hurt really, really badly. If I didn't get a hold on my emotions about Henry, we'd be headed down that same path of a guilty conscience, unrequited feelings, and enormous sexual desire. With Porter, to get over him and move on to other possibilities, I'd had to just cut him entirely. After going off to separate colleges, I'd made excuses not to return his calls and left text messages unread. I really regretted that, but I could see no other way. I missed Porter's company though, often and dearly.
I pushed those feelings out of my brain and whipped out my phone to hit David up. "Looks like I have a plan now. When did you want to get together?" I was struck by how easy it was to be forward and commanding over text, but so incredibly difficult to say it all out loud. Once again, I was reminded that even with some sex in my life, I was still just regular Connor. Fortunately though: If I could get us together that night, David had proven he could take over from there.
I held off on responding until I was in the security of my dorm room and could snap a picture back. I was certainly hard enough, even though I'd spent a load with Mr. Reed earlier that morning. The truth about David was that he was an average looking guy with an incredibly appealing cock, the kind that almost made your stomach churn with excitement.
As I walked down the narrow on our floor of The W, I wondered if Jake might still be lying there with his cock hanging out of his boxers. I pictured what would happen in my movie crossover universe. Most likely, I'd have knelt down and woken him up with a blowjob before we flipped and I plunged my own hard cock into his virgin straight ass. He'd groan out about how amazing it was and how he wishes he had been doing this for years. Finally, I'd withdraw my cock and shoot a load all over his stomach and his own cock. He'd jerk off with my cum for lube and finish all over himself. Then, the movie would end and the whole theatre would respectfully pick up after themselves, leaving nary a popcorn kernel on the floor. We'd all go home and live happily ever after.
Alas, dreams so rarely do come true. When I walked back into the apartment, the alcohol had been mopped up and Jake or Dean had made an honorable, if incomplete, effort to clean up after themselves. Game controllers still laid on the floor and a pizza box still laid out, but I admired the effort.
I pushed open the door to my room and sat down at my laptop to peruse some porn. I was horny as hell, honestly. The prospect of David had revived those jittery pre-sex feelings of excitement. I thought I'd just pull up some porn and casually stroke for a bit, send David some pictures and be rearing and ready to go for whatever tonight might bring.
I was feeling particularly bold. I let my shorts fall around my ankles and kicked them against the wall, adding to a growing disarray of dirty clothing on the floor. I whipped off my shirt too and stood in just my underwear. For a second time, I looked at myself in the door mirror. To my credit, my cock made a formidable bulge in my underwear - especially in contrast to my thin form.
I gripped my cock through the underwear and, using my other hand, took a picture. With the grace of good lighting, there was some good muscle definition there and definitely a very erect hidden cock. I sent it off to David and settled into my desk chair to jerk off for a bit.
Over the next half hour, I worked myself back and forth from the edge of cumming and back to casual boner, taking the occasional picture as future Grindr material. I was just hitting that point when not cumming was almost painfully suspenseful: shaking legs, tension, and a thin layer of sweat. I wanted so badly to finish the deed, but though back to David and how much better it would be if I could hold this feeling for just a few more hours. I steeled myself, rubbing my cock down to the base one final time before pulling my underwear back up and closing my laptop. Done, for now.
I headed to the bathroom in our currently empty suite, and had just started to soften up when my phone buzzed again. Even though it was the most perfectly natural conclusion, my eyes still glazed over when I read the message.
"Did you want to fuck me tonight? I'm down if you are." I looked at the little preview of the message from David and was practically confounded. Of course, he would want to fuck. That's what sex was, it couldn't be all blowjobs forever. Still, his forwardness caught me off guard.
With a deep breath, I let that other part of Connor take over again. The one that had responded affirmative to a quick blow just yesterday, and had been face fucked by Alex. Well, that part of Connor - but not the part that had sat frozen while Mr. Reed sucked me earlier that day.
"Fuck yeah. Let's do it. See you in an hour?" That was it. There was a plan. I would fuck David, and that was that. He wanted it, I wanted it. Why was I feeling so hesitant?
Then, with the usually discerning part of me taken over again, the logistics of fucking a Grindr hookup settled in. Should I bring lube, or would he have some? I mean, he suggested the whole thing and volunteered to host - but was it like a party, where you'd bring a bottle of wine for the host? i had no fucking clue. Then, the realer issue settled in, which was that I didn't even have a condom.
I resolved that I wouldn't foolishly show up with my only bottle of half-used lube, but it did seem that if my dick were to do the fucking, I would need to provide my own condoms. That seemed sensible, and if I were wrong, I would at least have a few condoms for next time.
The W is in the northeastern-most corner of campus and kitty corner from our building was a very college convenience store that: yes, always IDd, and no, didn't accept your meal plan. Needless to say, their sales were made primarily in cigarettes, caffeine, and condoms. College stuff.
Pulling my clothes and running shoes back on, I ventured back out of the suite and into the fall weather. Fridays were always quiet on this part of campus as so many kids would go home or to the library to study. Things wouldn't get wild until much later that night - but still, very little action in the freshman dorms.
I pulled open the door to the small convenience store after dodging an SUV that pulled in way too quickly for gas. Another person might have flipped him off, but I just rushed through and into the store to avoid any risk of conflict.
I really tried to be totally casual, like maybe I had just stopped in for a bottle of water. I would look interestingly at a bag of trail mix when - oh! A condom, of course, I needed one of those anyway, and they're right here, so why not pick one up? Play it cool, Connor. Play it cool.
But upon actually reaching the small selection of condoms, I realized it was a more stressful situation than I had anticipated. Did 'Ribbed for her Pleasure' even matter with anal? How did I not know the answer to that question, had I been paying no attention all these years? Finally, I took the Occam's razor approach to condom shopping and picked up a very plain looking package of adequately sized Lifestyles. Hopefully David wouldn't think I was cheap or something.
I grabbed a diversionary bottle of green tea and headed to the counter. After all, if I bought a green tea, the cashier would never know I'd come here just for a condom, right? I silently thanked God that I was the only one in the store, and then cursed him that I could be so needlessly overthinking about everything. People have sex! This was just life!
I gently set down my bottle and the box of condoms, turning both so their barcodes faced the cashier. If I could keep him from picking my shit up, that would go pretty far towards saving my embarrassment.
Finally, I looked up from my sad box of plain condoms and shitty green tea to see the cashier. I'm not sure if it was the half hour of edging earlier or genuine attraction, but my cock stiffened in my shorts. He had shaggy brown hair and was a tiny bit taller than me, clean shaven but still held the permanently tired look of any gas station clerk. He was cute in the way ordinary people very often are cute, and had nicely toned and tanned arms and cheery brown eyes. To be perfectly frank, he kinda looked like the type of guy who is 24 but still likes to hit the skate park. It was endearing.
He wordlessly rang me out, and just as I went to take the stuff in my hands he reached to bag them. We awkwardly touched hands for a brief second and our eyes rose to meet each other.
"Oh. Sorry, I can just carry these." I said, giving him the friendly smile one often offers to a random passerby. He nodded and I took the items and turned to go.
"Have a fun night, man." He called after me as I opened the door to leave. I looked back at him and he shook his chin up at me in affirmation. His use of the word "fun" rather than "good" struck me that my condom heist hadn't been entirely unnoticed.
Walking back to the dorm, I smiled to myself and wondered if I might see that guy again. At the very least, I'd have to make a habit of walking over for a study snack a regular activity.
With about a half hour to go before I had to head over to David's dorm, I was surprised to see another text from him. In it, he had attached another picture: an over-the-shoulder shot of him lying down, his perfectly curved ass pushed up into the air.
The caption: "Please come fuck me." What the actual fuck was I even doing? The movie started up again, ready for the 8 o'clock showing.
Connor Witmer https://connorwitmer.com/ me@connorwitmer.com