Disclaimer: This story contains graphic details of a sexual encounter between two adult, consenting mails. If you disapprove of such encounters or are legally barred from reading such material, please leave this page now.
Fans and supporters: Like part 2, part 3 will give some extra build up before the big show in part 4. I hope you enjoy, and, as ever, feedback and suggestions are greatly appreciated. I've also been told that some men send authors pictures of the cumshots that their stories produce. I won't turn those down either ;)
Noogerballsfad@yahoo.com Hope to hear from you soon!
"It's sinful!"
"It's also none of your business."
"Have you ever thought that maybe I don't want to see a couple guys walking around making out with each other every damn minute of the day?"
"Have YOU ever considered that a law legalizing gay marriage isn't the same thing as a license to fornicate in the streets? This slippery slope shit is really getting old, Monica."
It was Thursday afternoon and I was in my American History/Current Events course duking it out yet again with Monica, a classmate who seemed to think that it was her personal duty to piss me off on every issue known to mankind. The subject of lecture had been the Civil Rights Movement, and we adapted the topic to the closest thing to a modern day counterpart: the fight for gay rights. Though I had never made it a point to flaunt my sexuality to my classmates, I was outspoken about the right to gay marriage, something Monica took issue with. Typically, the instructor had to step in after we got going and the discussion became heated.
"Careful, now," said Professor Barrett, with a faint smirk on his face. I could tell that Dr. Barrett enjoyed the discourse that occurred so naturally when a bunch of strong minded college students got together, but it didn't stop him from shutting it down when it got too nasty. Usually, though, he just finished lecture, connected it with a current event, and sat back as the rest of us took it from there.
"I'm sorry, I just can't understand why people don't get that homosexuality is unnatural!" shrieked Monica. The class, populated by primarily liberal students, collectively rolled its eyes. We were used to this, but it didn't stop it from being frustrating. Not being able to take anymore, I responded.
"So are your tits, but I'm not trying to pass a constitutional ban on them....yet."
The atmosphere of the room thickened quite a bit. The comment was no doubt rude, but Monica had touched a nerve. We all looked at Dr. Barrett, who had an expression on his face like surprise mingled with irritation. Before Monica could open her mouth to respond, Dr. Barrett cut her off.
"I think that's where we'll leave it today. Everybody out."
The class packed up their things and walked out. Monica shot me a scathing glare before she departed. When the class was empty but for me and Dr. Barrett, he rounded on me.
"You need to keep your temper in check or comments like that are going to start affecting your grade," he said as he lightly but firmly whapped me in the head, "I don't need students dropping my classes because they think I foster that kind of environment."
I instantly felt ashamed. Dr. Barrett had been a magnificent professor so far, and the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint him.
"Sorry," I said, "I'll try to keep my temper in check. It just really bothers me to see people in the 21st century who are still that narrow-minded."
"No kidding," he replied, "Come to my office. We haven't had a chat in a while, and you seem to be on edge a little bit lately." He finished packing up his briefcase and walked towards the door, gesturing for me to follow.
I suppose I should give more insight into my relationship with Dr. Barrett. I had taken his first level American History class in the spring of my freshman year. I instantly loved the class. Not only is he particularly charismatic, but he is also very well spoken and an expert in his field. I thoroughly enjoyed his lectures for the insight he provided and the impassioned way in which he delivered them. It didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes as well. Dr. Barrett was in his mid-50's. He had short, wavy salt and pepper hair and a moustache that matched. His eyes were a deep brown color and his gaze was penetrating. Having been an industrial worker for the first 15 years of his post high school life before entering academia, he had a powerful build, though he had gone slightly to seed. If the subject matter for his class wasn't interesting enough, I simply enjoyed looking at the man. The next semester, I opted to take another one of his history courses, and after that, another. Now in my fourth (and last) class taught by Dr. Barrett, he knew my face well, and we had regular chats in his office about all kinds of things. I followed him across the campus to the history department's building and into his office. He sat down on his desk and kicked his feet up. One of my favorite things about him was his casual demeanor, and I always felt at ease around him.
"So what's up?" he asked, "You've been a bit more aggressive lately, and that's saying something."
Truth be told, I was very much aware of my newfound aggression. Meeting Jim and embarking on the kind of sexual escapades that would bring the hottest porn to shame had significantly changed my demeanor. My thirst for those encounters knew no bounds, and the assertiveness had manifested in everyday interactions. But how do you tell that to your history professor?
"Stress," I said. He glanced at me, amused. He had no doubt heard the excuse a million times before. I felt as if I were insulting his intelligence. He stood up all of a sudden and crossed the room.
"What's up?" I asked, somewhat perturbed by this strange behavior. Dr. Barrett looked outside into the hallway to see if anyone was around. The class ended at about 6PM, during which time the history department had mostly cleared out of full time faculty and most professors. We were pretty alone. He closed the door and locked it.
"Nothing," he said, a small grin on his face. He crossed back across the room and sat back down, his deep brown eyes gazing deep into mine, "I just have something I wanted to ask you about."
"Go ahead," I said, a little bit apprehensive, since it was becoming abundantly clear that this wasn't your typical "What are you planning on doing after college?" conversation.
"Last week, I was on the third floor of the library browsing the stacks for an old manuscript. I rounded a corner to see one of the maintenance workers behaving rather strangely." My heart sank. I knew where he was going with this. "He was facing a shelf, through which a hand was reached, massaging his jeans. He was pretty distracted and didn't notice me. I glanced around to see who the hand was attached to, and, well..."
I was perfectly aware that, since Jim and I made it a point to have very public gropings, we were bound to be caught sometime. I figured that this, higher up floor of the library was a safe place to have a little fun. I guess I was wrong.
"It comes as no surprise to me that you're so up in arms about the whole gay marriage issue," Dr. Barrett said, finally taking his eyes off me for a moment and glancing around the room, "I grew up in the 70's and am all for sexual freedom, but you might want to be a bit more careful about things like that."
I looked down, immensely embarrassed. My favorite professor had caught me fondling a man in the middle of an academic building. I took a few minutes to reflect on my stupidity to distract myself from the shame. I wanted nothing more than to evaporate on the spot.
"You'd think you two would keep it in the bedroom, that is, if you've ever actually gone any father than that. Or was this a first encounter?" I froze. This was an odd question to be asked. I glanced up at Dr. Barrett, who was now eying me curiously.
"Wha...?"
"Oh, don't be embarrassed," he said, his expression lightening somewhat, "How could you be? He's definitely a looker." I couldn't believe my ears.
"Are you...?" Evidently, complete sentences weren't my thing.
Rather than respond to my question, Dr. Barrett just eyed me and smiled. "How'd you meet him?" he asked.
"Uhm, well.." I mumbled, trying to get my thoughts in order. This was absolutely insane, "He works for the school."
"Yes, I surmised as much," said Dr. Barrett, now officially teasing me, "but how did you come across him?"
"We met.. a few weeks ago at the library," I explained. I couldn't get over how utterly insane this was, and yet as I described our first encounter, Dr. Barrett continued to stare at me hungrily.
"You two ever fuck?"
"Uhm... uh..." I stuttered, caught completely off guard, "No, not yet. I'm not really ready for that kind of thing yet."
"That's a shame," said Dr. Barrett, glancing down disappointedly. I used his temporary pause as my opportunity.
"Sir, this is pretty strange," I started, lamely, "Are you sure this is something we should be discussing?" He looked up at me, his face calculating.
"Don't think I don't know how you feel about me," he said, "You've taken all my classes, and I've seen you staring attentively at me during lectures, and it's obvious that it's not just because I'm talking about something you find historically interesting. Am I right?"
"Uhm..."
"I'm sure this is sufficiently freaking you out, but I'm not going to fail you because you're attracted to me," he said, now amused, "I just thought I'd break the ice here. Seems like a conversation worth having." As he said this, his eyes moved up and down my body. I was wearing a skin tight light blue button-down today that I'm sure was giving him a pretty good idea of the outline of my chest and arm definition. The top two buttons were left undone to show off the chest hair I prided myself so much on, and I noticed him survey that particular area more than once. Though the physical attraction was definitely mutual, the shock was preventing me from articulating my feelings. Seeing me continue to stare blankly at him, Dr. Barrett sighed and took his feet off the desk. He leaned forward across the desk, his eyes now locked back onto mine.
"Listen, when I was your age, I was exploring this same kind of stuff too, and it made life a lot easier to have another guy around, especially one with experience, to talk to about it. Shooting the shit and sharing stories really helps with the 'stress.' If you're too horrified to even speak, then I'm sorry I brought it up. I thought it would do you some good to have someone else you can talk to about it, but I guess I was mistaken." He stood up and walked back towards the door to unlock it, a disappointed look on his face. As he did, I knew that this was my last opportunity to untie my tongue. Still feeling as if this might not be possible, I compromised by grabbing his meaty forearm as he passed. I looked up at him.
"He's got a 10 inch cock, a six pack that would make 'The Situation' cry, and no gag reflex."
Dr. Barrett smiled at me, and I noticed a twitch in the crotch area of his pants, which was a few inches away from my face. He sat back down at his desk and kicked his legs up again.
"Tell me everything," he said, a mischievous smile on his face. I began to tell him the stories of our flings, from the first time Jim had ever come to my apartment to my attempts to begin preparing myself for the fucking of a lifetime. Since we had discussed the subject of the legendary "Hank," I had been working on preparing my tight asshole for him, inserting one finger at a time until I was big wide enough to take a dildo. Not wanting to stretch myself out too much and ruin the fun, I had stopped after the dildo, though I knew that it could never prepare even for Jim, let alone Hank. As I talked, Dr. Barrett gazed longingly at me. His hands began moving around his body. His left hand moved underneath his shirt through the front buttons while his right massaged the growing bulge in his pants. He closed his eyes and moaned softly as I described our sessions in vivid detail. When I was done, he opened his eyes and looked at me yet again.
"Sounds spectacular," he said softly, "At the risk of being too forward- "
"Too late," I said, with a smirk. He chuckled.
"Fine then, at the risk of being even more intrusive than I already have been, do either of you have a daddy fetish?"
Not for the first time that day, my jaw dropped. Talking about this kind of shit with Dr. Barrett was intense enough. Including him in on it? I couldn't even comprehend, though I certainly wasn't opposed to it. I definitely had a thing for older guys, though it's something I'd have to ask Jim about. Before I could gather myself enough mentally to even string together words for an explanation, Dr. Barrett stood up yet again. This time, he stayed behind the desk. He raised his hands to the top of his shirt and began unbuttoning it. I gawked without shame as he peeled the shirt apart and exposed his upper body. Though he had a small gut, it was by no means off-putting. He had defined pecs and his entire upper body was covered in hair. My pants began to feel tighter as I imagined what it must feel like to run my hand through his pelt. Before I could even get through the fantasy, he began to unfasten his belt buckle. He unzipped his jeans and dropped his pants. Barely concealed behind a jockstrap was the outline of Dr. Barrett's cock. Semi-hard, it appeared to be about 6.5-7 inches. He was obviously well-endowed.
"Like what you see?" he said in a soft, husky voice. He thumbed the waistband of the jockstrap. I wanted to reach forward and pull it down, but a sudden knock on the door disrupted us. Three short knocks was all it took to make Dr. Barrett freeze. His face went pale. Luckily, he had locked the door. Neither of us dared breathe until the intruder slipped a note underneath the door and walked away. Dr. Barrett waited until the footsteps died away completely and dressed himself back up.
"I'm a filthy hypocrite," he said, slightly calmer, now that the danger had passed, "I bring you in here to preach about being careful of public encounters and almost get caught myself." He picked up the note, read it, and set it on the desk. "Go figure. Completely unimportant." He sat back down at his desk and glanced over at me. "So what do you think?"
I didn't need elaboration. I knew that he wanted me to discuss including him on some of my romps with Jim, and I was all for it. His hairy sexy body was intoxicating, though the mood had definitely been killed by the interruption. "Let me talk to Jim about it. You've got my vote."
Dr. Barrett smiled at me, "Good boy. It's about time I showed you damn kids how to really please a man. Now, get out of here before we get carried away again and I start sucking your dick right in the middle of the reception area." My cock gave a more violent twitch. "Let me know what the verdict is."
Though I couldn't believe my ears, I had to give Dr. Barrett a lot of credit for his nerve, I thought as I made my way out of the building. I would have never been able to summon up the courage to approach anyone like that. I had to admit, the man knew what he wanted, and I would be more than willing to give it to him, with or without Jim.
Speaking of Jim, I decided to give him a call to gauge his reaction on the issue. I whipped out my cell phone and hit the "69" speed dial (the most remarkable coincidence of my life). After a few rings, Jim's voice answered, husky and excited.
"Hey there, sexy."
"Hey, I got a proposition for ya," I said, "Mind if I come over?"
"Not at all. In fact, this is the perfect timing," he said, and I distinctly heard a low chuckle in the background.
"Who's that?" I asked, "What's going on?"
"You'll see," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice as he said it, "Come on over. You won't be disappointed."
My curiosity peaked, and figuring that this day couldn't get any stranger, I decided to hop on the bus that would shorten the trip down to Jim's place. I arrived at his apartment and knocked. I heard momentary scuffling as Jim got up out of whatever position he was in to answer the door, which opened to reveal him in all his glory. He was wearing is ever-present beautiful smile, and his hair was slightly messy, indicative of some kind of fooling around. He was wearing his tightest jeans, into which a white beater was tucked. The beater barely concealed his beautiful body, and, as I always did and just to make sure he was real, I placed my hand on his chest and ran it down to his crotch. Some men shake hands, I lightly fondle for a greeting. Jim threw his arms around me and pulled me into a tight squeeze. I inhaled his musky scent, and as he broke away, I followed him, practically hypnotized, into the next room.
"There's someone here I'd like you to meet," he said, grinning as he moved into the living room, "This is Hank."
Jim gestured to a man standing in the middle of the room. At that moment, I could see why he rendered Jim speechless. No shorter than 6'5" tall, Hank was powerfully built. His black shirt was stretched over his extremely muscled upper body, and his meaty, hairy forearms indicated that he was probably as hairy as any of the rest of us were. His hair was long and very dark brown. He had it pulled back into a ponytail, which gave greater view of his green eyes and handsome face. He had a cut jaw and chin, but his smile was soft and welcoming. He was wearing dark blue jeans, though the bulge in them indicated that either he was just playing around with Jim and slightly aroused or hung like a horse. Or both. I wasn't complaining. I reached out my hand to shake his. He reached for my pants.
"What, you grope Jim but not me?" he said, smiling as his hand massaged the bulge in my jeans, "Let's have some fucking fun!"
I looked at Hank, then to Jim whose smile was broader and more excited than ever, and then back to Hank. I reached my hands out and started massaging them both. This was going to be a romp to remember.
To be continued...
Hope I'm not being too much of a tease ;)