This is my first submission to the Nifty Archive. It is the first of six parts. If you enjoy it, let me know and I will post the others. I would appreciate any and all comments. My e-mail address is eckhardt@injersey.com.
Please note that this story is a work of fiction. Any resemblence to actual persons or events is coincidental. It is intended for adults who are not offended by descriptions of male/male sexuality. Do not read it if you are under legal age in your region or if you are offended by such material.
You are free to copy this story for your own use, but please do not modify it in any way or republish it in any forum. Thank you.
Dorm Shower Lover by NJSword
Chapter 1
It was an unusually quiet weekend at Rutgers University. No parties were planned at any of the fraternities, and mid-terms were still a couple of months away. Most of the students had cleared out after their last classes on Thursday night or Friday morning, and headed back to their various family homes. Busch Campus felt like a ghost-town, with harsh winter winds blowing scattered leaves across the empty parking lots and deserted commons. The only remaining inhabitants were dedicated scholars, out-of-state residents, and those simply too lazy to leave.
I belonged to the last category. To me, it seemed like a waste of effort to make the hour- long drive home. My roommate, whose hometown was about the same distance away from the college as mine, went home every weekend without fail. Unlike him, I usually stayed on campus all week, only heading home for holidays and breaks. I didn't see the point of going home every single weekend. For one thing, I positively loathe driving in the horrendous traffic that, unfortunately, characterizes our excessively urban little state. When I do go home, inevitably I find myself either bored with nothing to do or occupied by any number of tedious chores thought up by my parents. For the sake of my sanity, I chose to stay in the dorm, where I could hang out and relax and maybe put in some extra study time if I felt motivated. It was also better for my social life, since all of my friends remained on campus through the weekend too.
So instead of fleeing for the hills like most everyone else on that particular weekend, I settled in for a relaxing couple of days. Last night, I had gone to the movies with a friend from my English composition class, but tonight I decided to stay in. It seemed like sacrilege not to go to a club or a party on a Saturday night, but I felt like playing it low-key.
After having spent most of the day at the Sci-Med library doing research for my psychology term paper, I was worn out, so I headed back to my dorm room in Davidson A. It took all my remaining effort to cart my dirty clothes over to the laundromat in the adjacent building. In between loads, I trudged back to my room and collapsed in front of the TV. Then, following a late supper, I nestled in to read the next few chapters in the novel we were covering for Spanish Literature.
My eyes started to droop around 11 o'clock, so I decided to call it a night. On a whim, I opted to take a shower to relax myself for bed. Gathering my gear together, I crossed the hall outside my dorm room to the communal restroom/shower facility which was almost directly opposite.
It was a surprise to hear the water running in the shower as I entered. I thought the place would be deserted like the rest of the dorm. As I circled around behind the urinals and toward the shower area, I could see steam billowing out around the curtain covering the large portal. Someone was taking a very hot shower. I set my towel and toiletries on the high shelf just outside the showers and hung my robe on the hook beneath it. Taking only my soap and shampoo, I pushed aside the curtain and passed through the opening.
If I was surprised to see anyone in the showers at that particular time, I was astounded at the particular person it was. Since his back was to me, I didn't immediately identify him, but as I was stepping into the open shower chamber he turned sideways to me, and I got a glimpse of his profile. I knew instantly who it was: Jeffrey Bloom.
Ever since the first day of last semester, when I noticed him moving into the room right next to mine, I had been powerfully attracted to Jeff, and with good reason. Just under 6', he had a well-developed but not overly muscular build. His boyishly cute face sported a goatee, which I found incredibly sexy. Although I usually don't notice a man's eyes, his got my attention: I'd never before seen eyes so incredibly, strikingly blue. His short raven hair was perpetually tousled, and he was always dressed casually, in T-shirts and jeans or sweatpants. It was a carelessly masculine style that only enhanced his allure. Furthermore, he was possessed of that aggressive straight-boy attitude, which was at once slightly intimidating and curiously appealing. All in all, he was damn near perfect, in my humble queer opinion.
Despite my attraction, I hadn't gotten to know Jeff much beyond saying "Hi" to him in the hallway. He was a third year engineering student, and I was a sophomore liberal arts major at Rutgers College, so we had virtually nothing in common academically. My roommate, Dave, who was also an engineer, hung around with Jeff occasionally, but I shied away from him.
Although I was drawn to Jeff, I had avoided striking up a friendship with him because I knew it would only be masochism to put myself in a situation where I saw him a lot. I couldn't stand it if I started to really fall for him, and there was no reciprocation of my feelings. Besides, I'm a very reserved guy in general, definitely not one to force myself on somebody. In the meantime, however, I hadn't allowed anything to stop me from indulging myself with irredeemably obscene sexual fantasies about him.
Once I recognized Jeff as the other occupant of the shower on that quiet night, I was seized by two equally powerful but seemingly contradictory emotions. On the one hand, I was extremely titillated at the thought of seeing his gorgeous body in its naked entirety. Recalling that image would add a delicious touch of realism to my fantasies. Up until that point, I had only once or twice happened to see his bare torso as he passed me in the hall on his way to the showers, but I had never chanced to be in the showers at the same time as he was to see him completely nude. On the other hand, I was also terribly uptight about the entire scenario. Sexual situations involving men that I find attractive always make me somewhat uneasy, but perhaps it was momentary clairvoyance that intensified the feeling.
Quickly, I moved across the open chamber to the shower head on the opposite wall and two down from the one Jeff was using. By force of habit, I stood to the side of the nozzle as I turned on the faucet and waited for the water to reach a comfortable temperature. Then I slid under the spray and savored the sensation of warmth coursing over my body. Grabbing the soap from the small dish beneath the shower head, I started scrubbing my chest.
Trying to be nonchalant and unobtrusive (though probably failing miserably on both counts), I rotated my upper body in Jeff's direction. Under the pretext of soaping up my right arm and shoulder, I observed him out of the corner of my eye. I was not disappointed. At that moment, his back was to me and I was rewarded with an unobstructed view of his magnificent rear end. Actually, his whole physique was flawless. Broad, well-toned shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist and shapely bubble-butt. His legs were solid and hairy, beautiful to behold. His skin was pale, smooth and unblemished. I found myself growing instantly aroused.
I snapped back in the other direction when he reached down to soap his lower legs and his eyes glanced my way. Hoping that he hadn't noticed my watching him, I busily sudsed my left arm and stomach. I kept my eyes averted for as long as I could bear, then as I bent slightly to scrub my thighs, I angled my head and neck around to bring him into view. Jackpot! Jeff had turned completely around beneath the shower nozzle to rinse his back and butt. I now had a full view of the front of his glorious form. He seemed to stare blankly off into space as he washed himself, so I allowed my furtive gaze to appraise him from head to foot.
I had had the opportunity to appreciate the well-defined lines of Jeff's upper body previously. At the time, I had thought that just seeing his sculpted pectorals, with their small, amber nipples and downy carpet of brown fuzz, and his smooth belly, with its subtle washboard ripples and planes, was delightful enough. But that was only half of him. He was at least as breathtaking from the waist down, with his firm, hairy legs and his most impressive attribute dangling between them. Beholding all of Jeff like that, seemingly displayed for my exclusive enjoyment, was fantastic, in the true meaning of the word.
My eyes were inevitably drawn to his cock. Seeing it for the first time was like the answer to an unspoken question. Although I didn't imagine it grew much larger when erect, it was at least 7 inches long and 6 inches around while flaccid. A perfect fleshy cylinder, it was unmarred by grossly bulging veins or undue scarring from his circumcision. The faint scarlet fringes of the corona flared out just enough from the smooth bronze shaft to give definition to the velvety pink head. The whole was rooted in a bed of densely curled pubic hair and accompanied by proportionately-sized balls, which were themselves sparsely fuzzed. I found myself staring in hypnotic fascination at the entire array of his equipment as it swayed and bounced beneath his self-ministrations. My own dick grew rock-hard.
Just then, I realized that Jeff was looking right at me. His expression told me that he knew I was ogling him shamelessly. Reflexively, I whirled my head around, plunging it beneath the streaming water. As I sputtered water out of my mouth and wiped my eyes, I heard him shout, "What are you looking at, faggot?"
Immediately, an instinctive fight or flight reaction took over. I felt my heart race and my stomach constrict in knots. My erection melted. When I turned towards him and spoke back, my voice cracked, betraying my fear and my guilt: "Nothing!"
"Don't lie, queer boy," he shot back. "I saw you staring at me. You were getting turned on, weren't you?"
I was too petrified to respond. I couldn't lie my way out of this predicament, and I didn't know what he would do if I confirmed the truth.
"Well?" he demanded, striding across the shower chamber toward me.
I was speechless for a long while, the roar of the showers deafening my ears. Finally, I caved in, whispering, "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I was watching you," I conceded, speaking louder.
"And my body turns you on, doesn't it?" he pursued, with an ambiguous smirk.
"Yes," I admitted, but I was not utterly defeated. My voice had grown stronger, and I looked him in the eye with a measure of defiance.
Jeff's demeanor abruptly shifted from outright aggression to borderline amusement. He snorted as if at a private joke and said, "I suspected you were a homo, but I never thought I'd find out this way."
"So?" I said, cautiously. "What are you going to do?"
"Nothing. But you're going to do something for me."
"What?" I asked, growing even more apprehensive.
"Don't worry," he replied, with a self-satisfied sneer on his face. "It's not bad. You'll probably enjoy it, in fact." He paused for a second, and I noticed that his hand was now openly caressing his crotch. "You're going to give me a blowjob."
I was so shocked, I didn't say anything. I just watched dumbly as he closed the gap between us, until he was standing only a few feet away. By now, he was fisting a fully erect cock. Gesturing towards it with his free hand, he murmured seductively, "Go ahead. You know you want to."
Still wracked by the terror he had provoked a few moments ago, I was nonetheless tempted. I had wanted Jeff beyond words, and here he was for the taking. It seemed demeaning to submit to him that way, but this was the fulfillment of my fantasies.
Hesitantly, I extended a trembling hand towards him. Removing his own hand, Jeff allowed me to wrap my fist around his engorged member. I began to stroke it jerkily. He didn't say anything, but merely sighed softly and spread his legs a little wider.
As I felt my desire rise and conquer my fear, I started to massage Jeff's cock more confidently. While one hand was caressing and rubbing his dick, I reached the other underneath to gently knead his balls. At this, he threw back his head and began to moan audibly.
That was all the encouragement I needed. I kneeled down in front of him, heedless of the hard tile floor beneath my knees, and confronted his cock. Still fisting it with one hand, I put my mouth near the head and flicked my tongue across it. The small bead of pre-cum that had accumulated there had a salty-sweet taste, which only made me hunger for more. I opened my mouth and took the entire head in, licking the sensitive frenulum with my tongue from beneath. I continued to stimulate Jeff that way until he was literally trembling from the ripples of pleasure. I could hear him breathe, "Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!" over and over again.
When he put his hands on the back of my head and began thrusting into my mouth with his hips, I took my hand off his cock and opened my lips wide enough to accommodate his entire shaft. I tried to take it in down to the base, but as his pubic hair tickled my nose, I started to choke and had to back off. I found I could comfortably swallow about two-thirds of the length.
We settled into a rhythm: He would thrust into my mouth for a few moments and back off. I would then slide my lips up and down his dick for a few moments, using the rough surface of my tongue to stimulate the underside of his cock-head. Then I would pause to allow him to begin thrusting again. All the while, he was moaning and grunting with pleasure.
I had begun masturbating my own throbbing cock with one hand, while the other gripped and massaged his tight butt. With such intense excitement, I came quickly, spurting my load onto the wet tile floor between Jeff's legs.
Jeff continued to thrust strongly for a few minutes longer. Then I could feel his ass muscles convulse as his orgasm began. At the same time he pushed my head down all the way onto his cock, I grabbed his butt with both hands and pulled him in deeper still. My face was literally buried in his pubic hair as his cum shot down the back of my throat. One final triumphant "Oh, Yeah!" came from Jeff as the last volley erupted from his cock.
In the ensuing moments, Jeff seemed to collapse, his hands dropping exhaustedly to my shoulders. He lacked even the energy to withdraw his dick from my mouth. I used the opportunity to lick his cock-head clean of the last traces of semen. He jerked slightly as my tongue touched his still-sensitive organ, then removed it from my mouth. When he took his hands off my shoulders, I stood up, flexing my stiff and sore knees.
A blissful smile came over Jeff's face and he said, "That was great. You are a fantastic cocksucker. My girlfriend never does it that good, and she won't even swallow."
I grinned foolishly, but didn't say anything.
"You must have done that a lot to get so good at it," he continued.
"Not really," I replied. "I just enjoy doing it, and I know how it feels so I'm better at it."
"I guess what they say is true then. Gay guys do give better blowjobs because they're guys and know how it feels."
"I guess so."
"Say, listen. Would you, like, be willing to do me again sometime?"
Uh oh, I thought. Now, it gets complicated. He was straight and he had a girlfriend. He just wanted to use me to get his rocks off. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be his personal male whore. As much as I lusted after him, I retained some self-respect. To avoid conflict in the present, I just murmured noncommittally, "Sure, if you want."
"Great," he said enthusiastically and then returned to the still-running shower head across the chamber.
Briefly, I watched him as he washed and rinsed off again, then resumed my own shower. I stood beneath the pounding water and tried to sort out what had just happened. The aftermath of the sudden fear and equally sudden sexual arousal felt like a horrendous hangover. I was drained emotionally and physically. It was a struggle just to soap up my body again.
As I bent down to the floor for the shampoo, Jeff was turning off the faucet. "See you later!" he shouted, retreating out the door.
"So long!" I yelled after him and finished my shower in solitary reflection.