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Chapter 2
With midterms fast-approaching, the next few days were a whirlwind of textbooks, papers and tests. By the time that classwork was over I was more than ready to hit the gym and burn off the physical idleness of the day.
"You coming?" I asked as I threw my stuff into my gym bag.
"Naw. I've got a paper to write. The prof only gave us a day to do it."
"Kay. I'll see you in an hour or two." The walk to the gym was fairly short, and the locker room was cramped with people like me wanting to get their workout in right after class. I spent twenty minutes warming up on an elliptical before moving toward the free weights.
"Hey. Can you spot for me?"
I was re-racking the weights from my arm curls before selecting the appropriate set for my next round of exercises. The guy was taller than I was by about three inches. He had black curly hair and a square jawline that the women must have swooned for regularly. His eyes were that liquid brown that was almost dark enough to be black. His shirt was snug enough to display (again) swoon-worthy pecks and abs, over a slender waist and muscular butt.
I met his gaze. "What are you doing?"
"Bench press. My gym partner bailed on me today, and I feel like pushing the limits a bit."
I shrugged. "Sure."
He'd already wrestled the weights onto the bar, so he laid down while I assumed the spotting position. He pumped out ten reps and eased the bar onto its rest before breathing softly for thirty seconds or so.
"You want a round?"
I shook my head. "Maybe when you're done. You're benching about fifty pounds more that I can on my best day."
He gave me an assessing look. "You look ripped enough."
I smiled and gave a dry laugh. "I think that after a certain point looking physically fit is subjective."
He did another ten reps, breathing heavily by the end. "I've seen you in here before. You usually here with another guy."
"Steve," I supplied. "He's writing a paper right now."
He pushed out another ten reps and set the bar on the stand. The two of us adjusted the weight to my preferred amounts and I laid down on the warm padded bench. I grasped the bar and did ten reps.
"That looked a little too easy." He slid two smaller weights on each end.
I nodded, and waited thirty seconds before doing another ten—more slowly. I was panting by the time I was done and was just a little too breathless to speak.
"Good weight?"
I nodded. "About right. Just watch me—this is about as far as I usually go."
I started my final set, and he stood with his crotch almost over my face. Bizarrely, I noticed his shorts were tenting, and—
'And he's not wearing any underwear.' I got to the seventh, and suddenly found I couldn't lift it any higher.
Before I could gasp out a need for help, he took two fingers and helped lift the bar to its rack.
I sat up and panted for several seconds before getting to my feet. "Thanks."
"That's what spotters are there for." He extended a hand. "Ben."
I shook it. "Greg."
"Military press next?"
I shrugged. "Sure."
We did several different exercises following. By the time we walked back to the locker room, I was tired enough to do a face plant, and felt like I'd taken a beating. The room was relatively crowded, and I made my way to my usual locker and opened it, stripping off my sweat soaked clothes and grabbing a towel.
Ben was only a couple of lockers down and was buck naked by the time I turned toward the showers. I forced my eyes not to dwell on it, but he was completely hairless. He had better definition than I did, although not by much and was relatively well-endowed. I ignored the fact that he was at more than half-mast.
He gave a chipper smile and made a not-so-subtle evaluation of my physique, nodding in satisfaction.
I gave a nonchalant smile in return and walked into the showers, Ben following a pace or two behind. Like the locker room itself, it was fairly crowded. We found two showers right next to each other and turned them on before lathering up.
"So . . . this friend of yours: Steve. He's not . . . available . . . is he?" I raised an eyebrow, and he laughed. "I know someone who's interested. He ever tell you which team he plays for?"
I laughed this time. 'Either this `someone' is a guy or he's into him himself.' "I don't think he's seeing anyone right now. As for which team he plays for: you'll have to ask him that yourself."
"Half the people in here swing both ways. You ever given it any thought? I'm sure I could find someone . . . "
Despite my best intentions, my cock surged. To cover it without drawing attention, I grinned. "You run a . . . an escort service?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm just a matchmaker. Escorts: you'd have to talk to Rick about that." He jutted his chin to the shower stalls on the opposite wall, where a relatively beautiful guy with blond hair was scrubbing down an enormous cock.
My jaw dropped. 'Seriously: Does this guy get a hardon and pass out?' After a moment I remembered myself and turned away, thinking furiously about how to hide my now-raging hardon.
There was a soft laugh from Ben. "We have a winner."
I gave him a look that was decidedly hostile.
He raised his hands. "Easy there. A few of us wanted to know."
Keeping my anger in check, I turned to face the two of them squarely. "I take it you weren't interested in Steve's love life, but mine?"
"There ARE guys interested."
"Then they should speak up." I finished rinsing and shut off the water. "As for attempting to play me today: you can go to Hell."
I towelled dry as I made my way to my locker and got dressed in short-order, trying not to look as annoyed as I felt. Fortunately, I wasn't sporting an erection any longer—that would have been difficult to explain away in a room full of strange men, even if I believed half of them 'swung both ways'.
I took a longer route on my walk back to the dorm, letting my temper dissolve. By the time I walked into our room, I was almost calm again.
Steve was lying on his bed in his underwear, reading some textbook. I felt an irritating stir of attraction before I turned away, dumping my gym bag onto my bed and throwing the sweat-soaked and clammy clothes into the laundry hamper.
"You look pissed."
"It's nothing."
He frowned, but didn't press.
I made a small, late supper and downed it along with some protein powder, managing not to gag as I did so. I settled down to do some reading before bed, stripping to my boxers absentmindedly. After almost an hour Steve broke the silence.
"You're still upset about something."
I didn't look up from my text on feudal China. "Why do you say that?"
"Your jaw works a little bit when you're upset and trying not to think about it. Your shoulder muscles are clenched a little tighter than usual too."
I looked up, eyeing him quizzically. "How do you notice things like that? I don't see things like that about anyone, I don't think."
Steve shrugged and ran his fingers through his golden hair. "You start to notice things when you've watched someone for a long time. Cared about them, even if they haven't reciprocated."
I flushed. "Look . . . I'm sorry—"
Steve waved the apology away before I'd started. "It is what it is. Nobody chooses their love, although some would dispute that, I think."
I closed the book and took a breath, but Steve wasn't finished.
"So. Are you going to tell me what's bothering you, or are you going to give me another transparent evasion?"
I abruptly laughed at myself and lay back on the bed. " . . . A couple of guys at the gym made a blunt pass at me."
Steve propped himself up on one elbow with interest. "What happened?"
I explained about Ben and how he'd more-or-less put his dick in my face. By the time I got to the shower, Steve's jaw was hanging open.
"How big?"
I planted my elbow in my crotch and made a slashing motion with my other hand at the wrist.
He swallowed. "I'm surprised no one went down on him right then and there."
I laughed drily. "I'm sure it's happened."
Steve took a breath, apparently hesitating about something.
I looked over. "What?"
He looked down at his own crotch, obviously hard beneath his underwear. He looked over at me, and I knew I wasn't in any position to judge.
"Can we . . . you know . . . "
"Jerk off?"
He nodded.
I shrugged. "Sure."
He took another breath. "Can we watch porn this time?"
That caught me off-guard. "I . . . um—"
"We can alternate." He abruptly got up and sat down in front of his computer. Within seconds he'd run a cable to the TV and was using it as a large screen. A few seconds later he pulled up an array of websites, gay and straight. "Pick one."
I stood, uncomfortably aware of my prominent erection that was not-so-subtly tenting my shorts. I approached from behind his right shoulder and leaned over carefully so that I didn't rest my cock on him in any way.
'Not that he'd mind. By his own admission, he sounds like he'd find it a turn on.'
I moved the mouse to a site that was suitably hetero—something I'd have watched before this fucked up situation had messed with my head.
"My turn." His hand caressed mine, and I eased off. As I expected, he chose gay porn—something with two muscular young men, one blond, one darker haired. He turned in his chair, almost running into my dick—still standing at attention through the loose fitting cloth. He gave a dry laugh. "Sorry. Pick another."
I chose one that was vaguely bi. The chick had a strap-on dildo and was fucking the guy.
He picked one of a black guy fucking a white guy. "These always turn me on. One more each."
I looked at him distractedly, noticing the wet spot on the front of his boxers. "I can tell."
He eyed my hardon. "You're not exactly holding back."
I looked down—really looked for a moment—and realized I'd oozed pre-cum onto his forearm. Mortally embarrassed, I stepped back abruptly. "Sorry. I'm so sorry."
Steve smiled. "What for? Getting your gonads off is the point. Like I said last night: I'm not afraid of your spunk."
"It's one thing to say . . . "
"Maybe this will convince you." Without batting an eye, he brought his arm to his mouth and licked up the small puddle that was dribbling over the side.
I suddenly felt cornered. "Look . . . I'm uncomfortable—"
For the first time, Steve showed real anger. "What the fuck is WRONG with you? It's hard to watch porn—straight or gay—without seeing a dick. I know you've watched porn—don't bother to deny it, you'll just embarrass yourself. You've seen tons of guys buck-naked in the gym locker room. Even screwing your one-night-stand girlfriends has had you tongue deep in pussy. How is this actually different?" He abruptly grabbed the elastic waist of my boxers and pulled them away from my crotch, exposing my pubic hair and most of my cock before letting them snap back to my abdomen. "Setting aside what I feel, how hard is it to just HAVE A GOOD TIME? You're being a goddamn prude and more than a little hypocritical."
I was suddenly in tears. Steve seemed to realize he'd hit a nerve and reached for me, but that made it even worse. I shrank back and even more hot tears fell.
I turned and started toward the bathroom, where I could get past this humiliating display in private, but Steve stopped me in the hall, wrapping his arms around me from behind and resting his head between my shoulder blades.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I should never have pressured you into something you aren't ready for."
I took a shaky breath. " . . . Sorry for being right?" I forced myself to relax, and turned around and hugged him, feeling our half-masted dicks pushing against each other through our underwear.
After nearly a minute, I finally took a step back and looked him in the eyes. "Why don't we go finish what we started."
He smiled softly and nodded. "Can I suggest something to help us get past this . . . social conditioning?"
We strolled back to the other room. " `Social conditioning'. Someone's been reading his textbook."
He laughed. "Let's be nudists tomorrow. It's Saturday and neither of us needs to be anywhere."
I stood stock still for a moment, considering. " . . . Ok. No clothes at all."
Steve sat down in front on his computer again. "It's your turn."
I chose one, almost at random, and laid down on my bed, propping up pillows so I could see properly. Steve put the bottle of lube back on the night stand between us, and started the playlist before shutting the lights off.
Inside of two minutes the two porn stars were fucking.
I maintained my erection, but I didn't find it particularly arousing. As two minutes became five, and then ten, and the action became more and more frenetic, I rubbed myself through my boxers and breathed more deeply. 'This may have been a mistake.' In the relatively dim light of the TV, I stole a glance at Steve. He had a moving hand inside his boxers, but was clearly only keeping himself sort-of hard.
The porn stars both came, and sperm oozed out of her pussy. The guy pulled out, and leaned forward, shoving his face back between her legs. My cock surged at the sight, but that was the end of the clip.
It moved onto the next. Steve's choice. Blond and brunette guys naked and kissing. The minutes eased by, and the kissing became more and more passionate, with heaving chests and stiffening dicks.
I eased my hand inside my underwear and let my fingers float over my hard penis, touching the warm skin and gently pinching my head. Pre-cum oozed out, and I smeared it over the rest of my glans, gently rocking my hips once.
One of the two guys was licking and kissing his way down the chest and abs of the other while fondling his cock.
I glanced over at Steve, and saw he'd slipped off his boxers and was masturbating openly. After a moment he saw me watching, and my face flushed as I turned away.
"Sorry."
He shrugged in the dimness. "For what? You're going to get an eyeful of this tomorrow anyway."
'That sounded ambiguously like a proposition.' Taking a breath, I pulled my cock free of the elastic waistband and reached over, grabbing some lotion, adding its wetness to my own juices. I gently squeezed my hand, gliding it up and down my shaft and turned my attention back to the TV screen, where a blow job had evolved into a sixty-nine.
The two porn stars started fingering each other—it seemed to be some kind of game to see who could turn the other on enough to insist on bottoming.
I eased my boxers off completely and spread my legs a little. I took more lotion and started jerking off more deliberately.
Steve was breathing more heavily, and I looked over—not even hiding that that was what I was doing—and in the dimness saw that he was fully aroused. He smiled and grasped the base of his erection and waved it in the air for me before resuming.
In the end the blond bottomed, with the dark haired guy carefully positioning himself, and then easing into his partner, who cried out in pain or delight—I couldn't tell.
Steve and I both masturbated furiously now, while watching the two stare soulfully into each other's eyes as they fucked.
I think I came first, but it was only by moments. My sperm hit the bed's headboard over my shoulder, before a second and third blast splattered over my abs. A fourth slid into my pubes. Steve's orgasm lifted his hips into the air before he gave a grunt of surprise.
"What?"
"I got myself in the face."
I laughed tiredly.
The two on screen climaxed and kissed, rubbing their cum-soaked abs together.
I woke up to sunshine, and Steve sitting up in his bed.
He smiled when he saw me before standing up and sliding his boxers down, exposing his perfect ass, and then his cock when he turned to face me.
His grin broadened. "Your turn."
Still half-asleep, I groaned and pulled the covers over my head.
Steve laughed. "Don't. I'll crawl in there if you don't ante-up."
I took a long breath, debating how long I could delay, but Steve was one step ahead. He pulled the covers off, and I found myself looking at his semi-hard uncut cock six inches from my face. I sat up, finding I had to peel my eyes off his dick, before meeting his chipper gaze.
"Like what you see?"
I snorted. "I see the cut or uncut question has been answered."
Steve laughed and his cock gradually stiffened. "Would you like to inspect more closely?"
I looked down at him, and then met his eyes again. "That's ok."
"Good. Now strip like you promised."
I stood and slid my boxers down. "I don't recall actually promising anything."
His eyes wandered down, as mine had moments before. I allowed it, acknowledging that I'd had the full view already. In fact I subconsciously clenched my muscles and thrust my hips forward a little. Steve's cock throbbed.
"You'd better stop that," he muttered, "or I'll end up blowing my load right here."
My own shaft was hard. "I need a shower."
"Can we jerk off first?"
"Now?"
Steve took a quick breath of excitement. "Ya. And can we do it on the same bed?"
I hesitated. "It's daylight. And what if we spooge on each other?"
Steve smiled. "It'll be no worse than walking around the dorm naked all day—and we've jerked off together already. Besides . . . by my count, you've cum on me twice. I need to even the score."
My morning wood had stiffened further with the amount of skin in my line of sight. I nodded slowly. "Alright."
Steve sat down next to me and I eased over to make room. Without asking, he squirted lotion onto my abs and grinned.
Laying completely naked side by side for the first time, the two of us unabashedly looked at each other's cocks.
"You're what . . . seven? Seven and a half?"
"Seven," I answered, a little warily. "You?"
"A little shy of eight."
I looked over, deciding he wasn't quite as hard as he should be for an eight incher. To make matters worse, his smaller frame made him look disproportionately larger. "Careful Steve, you'll give me an inferiority complex."
"NOW who's been reading their psych text?"
I smiled distractedly. "I . . . "
"What?" He gave his dicked a caress, and I was almost mesmerized as it surged the final half inch or so in his hand.
I looked away, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I just . . ."
"Have always wondered about foreskin?"
I slowly nodded, unable to say anything.
"You can feel mine if you want."
I was abruptly nervous again and shook my head. "No . . . I don't think I—"
Steve sighed and suddenly grabbed my hand and moved it onto his own cock. It throbbed under my fingers, and I found my hand curling around it despite my surprise. I carefully slid the skin up and down over Steve's head a few times, mesmerized by the motion and momentarily amused by Steve's interrupted breathing as I did so.
I glanced up to his eyes, pausing, and he nodded slowly. I gently put my index finger and thumb on the top and bottom of this purple head and slid the foreskin up over them. I inhaled sharply as his dick throbbed between my fingers and oozed more pre-cum. Glancing at my own dick, I saw that it had gone from its own purple color to a much more urgent red-tinge, also oozing enough pre-cum to drip down onto my abs.
Steve seemed slightly out of breath. "We'd better take care of this or I'm going to lose my self-control in keeping this down to a mere jerkoff session."
I fingered a small amount of lotion from my abs while Steve reached over to the bottle on the nightstand. We each caressed our dicks, sliding lube over them. I squeezed more firmly to counter the latest surge, turned on as I watched Steve work some lotion under his foreskin and arch his back.
We both went to work, slowly at first, but with a gradually increasing pace that we timed to each other without conscious thought. It took a few minutes of heavier and heavier breathing before I noticed that Steve was stroking with his left hand rather than his right. It DID afford me a much better view as we grasped and thrust.
I came first, receiving an unusually forceful splatter on my chest, with the follow ups landing in a trail down my stomach. I gasped for air, still finding Steve's involuntary pelvic lifting arousing. I knew Steve was close as his dick stiffened into the telltale protracted final throb, but was completely surprised when he rolled in my direction and cum splattered my chest and abs for the second time.
I was so stunned all I could do was lie there as he collapsed from his orgasmic high and planted his sweaty forehead onto my shoulder. His breath caressed my left nipple, hardening it again.
"You could have warned me."
"I DID, you ass."
I laughed, and he joined me after a moment, still catching his breath.
I eyed the bed, trapped between Steve and the wall. "Well, if I didn't need a shower before I certainly do now."
"Sorry Greg. I can't let you by for a few minutes." He wrapped his arm over my chest and threw a leg over mine. Our collective cum and remaining lotion squelched, and his half-deflated dick slid against my hip.
I tried to playfully force the issue, and ended up rolling on top of him. The two of us locked our gaze for a long moment, the slippery goo mashed between us.
Abruptly, I became uncomfortable again, acutely aware that this had gone much further than I'd ever envisioned. I broke eye contact and distractedly disentangled myself before making my way to the shower.
Steve frowned, but said nothing.