Jacob

Dear Nifty...I would like to submit a new story called JACOB for the Nifty readers to enjoy. It centers around my sophomore year in college and a new friend. Once you have posted it...would you please add it to my list of stories under Authors.

Thanks, BEJ

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JACOB

by

Ben Ezra Jacobson

Jacob was such a handsome young man. He had black hair, cut long but still above the ears and off the neck...kind of shaggy like but neat. He had black eye lashes and eye brows, crystal blue eyes and flawless skin except for a tiny scar on his chin where he took a fall from a bicycle when he was about twelve. He was twenty years old when I met him. We were both sophomores in college. He was a physical education major and although I was an English major...we had an English class, a history class and a physical education class together. We became good friends...an academian and an athlete. I was never athletic...but he coached me in volley ball and I helped him with English...which he said was really killing him.

When I learned that I had to have six quarters of physical education, I thought that I would get six "F's"...but Jacob helped with pointer during the first quarter and then suggested that I take bad mitten, archery, golf and two dance classes to meet my requirements. It was the best advice I ever got.

In the English class we shared...we read the Oedipus Rex stories. I helped him write papers on class assignments. He would scratch his head and say, "Why the hell anyone would want to study this shit is beyond me." I helped him with his outlines and encouraged him to put the papers into his own words. Even that was terribly frustrating for him.

Jacob was an only child, reared by his mother who was accountant and his father who was a very liberal clergyman. One day in class, the instructor, speaking of people having Oedipus complexes...ventured into a class discussion about our opinions of "free love" and gay life styles. At first, no one wanted to speak of it for fear of being labeled. Jacob held up his hand to speak.

"Go ahead, Mr. Oliver," the instructor said.

"My dad is a clergyman...and when he counsels his parishioners...he tells them that they have to listen to their hearts. He has always told me not to judge the people around me...but to leave it to deity. So when I was growing up...I had friends who were Christian and some who were not, some who were heterosexual and some who were gay, and others of all nationalities. But when it comes to Oedipus Rex...I have some very strong feelings about his behavior. His struggles were thought provoking...but I can not imagine his behavior being encouraged in this modern day.

"Anyone else want to rebut what Mr. Oliver has offered us," the instructor asked?

Not a single hand went up. After class, in the hallway...many of the students came over to him and patted his shoulder and congratulated him on his comments.

"Good job Jacob...well said," came the comments as he walked down the hallway towards his next class.

I didn't get a chance to speak to him after class but when we met up again during history class...I told him that I admired his neutral demeanor.

"Hey Ben...life is too short to get caught up in hate and persecution. We are who we are and have been since birth. As we grow up...we improve if we choose...or we don't if we choose," he replied.

He had such an incredible smile...and perfect teeth. Some people have all the luck. I smiled back.

"I admire your good sense, Jacob. Your parents have done alright by you."

"Well, I learned early on that my dad told the truth. I built on the knowledge he has shared with me. We miss some great experiences when we let narrow mindedness restrict us."

"I agree with you...but tell me...how has your open mindedness enlightened you," I asked?

He looked at me...and studied my face for a minute. "There is one experience that I could tell you about...but I would want your discretion in not sharing it with others," he asked.

"I understand," I said. "I give you my word that I will not repeat it without your permission."

"One summer when I was twelve, I went to a church summer camp in southern Illinois. The director was one of my father's classmates from their seminary. While there, I met the Pastor's eighteen year old son, Will. We spent a lot of time with the church summer programs. One week end, he asked me to go camping along the river with him. He had his dad's canoe. We paddled down the river and then back. When we got back, it was dark...so we pitched the tent under the bridge that crossed the river. He asked me if I would like to go into the water for a swim. Sure why not, I thought. He took off all of his clothes and ran into the the water. We walked up and down the sandy beach naked in the night. I had sand all over me. We went for one last swim before going into the tent. Inside the tent...he began to touch me. This was a new experience for me. Then he kissed me...and it felt good. I kissed him back.

Well one thing led to another and I ended having my first homosexual experience. According to religious and societal mores, I should have found my experience shameful and sinful...but I didn't. I enjoyed the night with Will and hoped to get to camp with him again. I told my dad when I got home what we had done. He asked me how I felt about it. When I said that I liked it and felt no shame...he said that we all have to decide for ourselves what we will and will not do. He reminded me in the scriptures that the Lady caught in adultery was not condemned by the master. Since then, I have tried very hard to not condemn those around me for what they do or do not believe. That's it Ben...in a nut shell," he said.

I looked into his blue eyes and saw his big smile...and knew that Jacob was definitely a young man that I wanted to know better.

. . . . . . . . .

A few days later after history class, Jacob asked me if I was going out to eat anywhere or had I brought a sandwich from home. I indicated that I had planned on going out for lunch.

"Could I go with you," he asked?

"Sure, that would be fantastic," I responded. "What sounds good to eat?"

"Anything," he answered back, "what did you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking about some fish from the Long John Silvers place."

"Gosh Ben...that does sound good. I haven't had fish since Fridays were demoted," he laughed.

"So you observe Catholic traditions as well," I asked.

"Not really, just thought I would have some fun with you. Fish sounds great to me."

We ordered the sea food platter with a diet coke. It smelled wonderful. At the table, we talked about term papers while we ate.

"Have you started your paper yet," I asked?

"I've tried several times...but damn it Ben, I just don't get this Oedipus crap. It might as well be in Greek," he stammered.

I looked into his serious face and burst out laughing.

"What," he demanded?

"Jacob...have you been focusing on the story at all. It is Greek."

"Huh?"

"The story is Greek. Haven't you read any of it," I asked.

"I told you that English was my worst subject in high school," he answered back to me. "I really need you to help me."

I smiled. Yeah, I guess I could do that. You saved me in Volley ball class. When is a good time for you.., for us to get together and work on it," I asked..?

"It's due next Tuesday. How about if you go home with me for the week end. We could work on it then," he asked?

" I have a better idea...why don't you just stay here and go home with me. That would cut out the travel time...and my folks are going to be gone over the week end...so there wouldn't be the noise or interruptions," I suggested.

"Your folks would not object to you bringing a stray dog home to spend the week end," he asked.

"Not as long as you don't chew on the furniture," I responded. We both laughed. "Get your things together...and don't forget your text book and notes. If you tell me what you want to say...I'll type it for you on the computer as long as it is in your words and not mine."

The afternoon seemed to drag. Having P.E. class helped to distract my thoughts from the end of the day. It would be nice to have someone at home to talk with while my dad and mom attended a seminar in St. Louis. I wanted to help Jacob with his paper...but the instructor would recognize my style of writing because he had complimented me on it several times before. Jacob's paper was going to have to sound unique to him. He was already frustrated with his own efforts. It would be interesting to see if he could pull something logical out of his memory banks... that would not look like it was plagiarized.

. . . . . . .

I picked Jacob up at his dorm room after school. It took about twenty minutes to drive home. After putting my car in the garage, I helped him carry his back pack and book bag into the house. He didn't know that my father was a professor at the university that we both attended. When he entered the house and noticed all the books and university paraphernalia...he asked if my dad was Dr. Jacobson from the English Department.

"One in the same," I responded.

"Damn Ben...no wonder you are an academic genius," He said.

I laughed. I am a fairly descent student...but far from a genius. My parents had always invested a great deal of their time in helping me understand the classes I had taken and tutored me in a lot of them if I struggled. I have learned that it is amazing what one can do with determination and some good guidance.

Jacob walked over to the piano and looked it over.

"Ben, do you play," he asked?

"Only a little, and very poorly," I replied. "My sister Barbara is the musician in our family."

"Is she a student," he asked?

"No...she graduated already. She and her husband live in the east," I replied.

"May I play it," he asked?

"Sure...go ahead," I answered back.

He sat down to the piano, put his fingers on the keys and played like one who had studied all his life. The piece was familiar...but I could not place it.

"Jacob...I know that piece of music you are playing...but can't recall the name."

"It's a church hymn that we sing a lot at my dad's church. It's called "Be Still My soul." It was written by a composer named Jean Sibelius from a score that he wrote called FINLANDIA."

"Wow...it's beautiful," I responded.

"Bet you never guessed that a Phys. Ed. hick like me, would know anything about classical music...did you," he said...with a sheepish grin on his face.

"From what you have shared with me thus far...I would say that you are an unusually complex and interesting person. I'd like to know you better," I stated.

He stopped playing and smiled at me. "I'd like to get to know you better too, Ben. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate your help with that Greek Dude, Edison Rex." He laughed.

"Oedipus Rex...and you are entirely welcome," I replied.

We took some frozen lasagna out of the freezer and made a quick green salad for supper. I also found a frozen mince meat pie and some vanilla ice cream near the bottom the chest freezer. We put the lasagna and the pie into bake and turned on the television. While the news droned on in the back ground...we checked over Jacobs notes and found them to be sadly lacking.

"Let's take a different approach to doing a paper for you. I showed him my outline for the paper that I had started to write. I suggested using it for a pattern. We altered it to fit the data he had recalled. By the time supper was done baking...we had come up with a respectable outline, that was believable.

"Now after we eat..with the new outline we have created...you dictate to me what you want to say...and I will type it into the computer. The computer will do the spell check and punctuation corrections. OK," I suggested?

I had let Jacob look over my notes and then we read his notes. His were a bit haphazard...but we labored through it...and then discussed the lay of the story.

"Now, in your own words, following your outline...tell me what you want to say about Oedipus Rex," I commanded. It was amazing how well he started off. When he run into an obstacle...I stopped typing and we discussed it. Two hours later we had a rough draft.

"Now then, Jacob," I said. "We are not going to make too many corrections. You will turn it in as a rough draft and Dr. Wilson will see that you are under way. When he makes a few comments on your paper...we will polish it and turn in the final copy. What do you think," I asked?

"Damn Ben...you're a genius. You've made me look like I understand the story and have some working knowledge of the piece," he threw back at me.

"It will probably come back with suggestions and comments. Don't let it throw you. We want him to comment...even criticize it. That will give us fodder for a final addition with his suggestions, which will make it look like you really get what he is telling us in class. It's called `kissing ass" in modern day language."

"Man Ben...you really know how to speak Greek," he laughed.

"Well, kind of...I have lived my whole life with a English professor for a father. I've learned a lot of the tricks of the trade, my friend," I said.

I hit the print key on my computer...and the term paper came rolling out. We put it into a hard manila folder and Jacob put it into his notebook with in his book bag so he would not misplace it.

While he put his things away...I put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, added the soap, and punched the "run" button. Back in the living room, I put a couple more logs into the fire place. We were burning hickory wood...and the room smelled nice. I lit a couple of candles and turned out the lights. We sat on the sofa and gazed into the fire.

"I love a fire in the fireplace in the autumn and in winter," I told him.

"So do I," said Jacob. We have a fireplace at home. I like a campfire too, even if I do go home smelling like smoke."

My parents have a summer house near Boulder Junction, Wisconsin," I told him. We go up there for the summer a lot. I have a log cabin that was built my the grandfather of a local author in that area. When he and his family decided that it was time to sell the woods... dad bought it. I have taken a couple of friends up there with us to canoe and fish. We camped in the cabin while my folks stayed at the summer house."

"A real cabin...that would be so cool," Jacob said. "Is the fishing good up there?"

"Yeah, we caught wall eye and Muskie...but they are pretty good size and can really give the fisherman a tussle for his money."

"What's the canoeing like?"

"Man Jacob...it's the best. You can go from one lake to the next by shallow water chains. My first trip up there...we paddled across Boulder lake and was going to go to upper Fishtrap lake...but we missed the turn and went to Nixon lake instead. We camped on an island...and in the night...we heard this growling sound. Neither of us would go outside and check what it was. It might have been a bear...who knows...but the next morning all of our food had been ransacked...and we had to paddle to a near by lake that had a convenience store and buy more food."

Jacob got up and stretched, then lay down on the floor in front of the fireplace.

"That would be so damn cool," he said.

"You know, for a preacher's kid, you sure curse a lot," I laughed.

"Yeah...I'm sorry about that. It's just that I get caught up in the spirit of the moment...and sometimes talk like the coaches do," he said.

"You know for a future coach, you look more like a movie star. Your too good looking to be a coach," I jested.

"Yeah, I know...I have often wished that I had been built more rugged and less handsome," he suggested.

"And more modest, I would suggest," teasing him.

"Who better to be arrogant and conceited than a moralist preacher's kid," he laughed.

I laughed at him. Jacob was so much fun to banter with. He was all smiles... but with in, he was a good person...a really good person.

"The fire is nice down here, Ben," he said.

I got up from the sofa and sat next to him on the floor. He reclined, grabbing a sofa cushion to put under his head.

"Ben," he said.

"Yeah," I answered back.

"Remember me telling you about my camping under the bridge with my friend Will?"

"Yes, I remember," I answered him.

"Well, would you tell me about some of your adventures," he asked?

I looked into his handsome face, "How do you know I have any adventures to tell about?"

"You must, because you didn't seem shocked when I discussed mine. Most guys would have gone off, if someone told them that they were gay."

"You didn't tell me that you were gay...only that you had had an adventure when you were twelve years old," I responded. "Besides, I am as non-judgmental as you are...in case you hadn't noticed.

"Come on Ben...my gay-dar is beeping like crazy. I know you have had some adventures...and I would like to hear about them," he said. "OK, So tell me that I am wrong and I will apologize."

I took a deep breath and stared into the fire. After a few seconds, I turned back towards him and said, "You're not wrong Jacob. I am gay."

"I knew you were Ben...and I am glad. I have really enjoyed hanging out with you from the first day in class. I'd like to see us move on to the next level."

"So would I," I said.

He reached over and touched the side of my face with his hand. Sitting up, he reached over and hugged me...and held me close to him. He was warm and his touch was comforting. I turned my head to face him...looking into the bluest eyes I have ever seen. He touched my lips with his finger. When I moaned, he pulled his finger away and kissed me. I kissed him back. His lips were soft and nice. He kissed me again and smiled. I smiled back.

"Ben...you don't know how long I have wanted to do that," he said.

"Yeah? It's really cool."

I leaned in and kissed him back. He lay back on the floor in front of the fire place and I turned on my hands and knees and straddled over him and then lay down on top of him. Chest to chest and cock to cock. He was hard as a rock...and I was getting there fast. The pressure of my penis laying on top of his...was really electrical. We kissed each other again...there in the dark with only fireplace light to see by. I climbed off of him. He sat up and I helped him pull his shirt over his head. In turn, I unbuttoned mine and removed it.

His nipples were hard like little b-b's and he said it felt good when I squeezed them. When he tried to do the same to me, I flinched. Too sensitive... so I suggested that he lightly run his palm over them. His touch was gentle and it felt good. He pushed me back onto the floor and gently unbuckled my belt, then unbuttoned my jeans, spreading the fly wide open as far as it would go, he put his hands into my waist band and pulled them down to my ankles and then off. I was wearing white briefs. He ran his hand over my bulge. My dick was as hard as it could be.

"Raise your butt off of the floor Ben," he said.

He grabbed my briefs and pulled them down and then off my body.

"Man, Ben...your beautiful," he said as he reached out and touched my penis.

He ran the palm of his hand along the underside and around my balls then back up and placed his fingers around my shaft and squeezed. A charge of electricity went through my groin and my cock stood straight up. He ran his fingers through my pubic hair. I had just trimmed it to a half inch length the other day. Moving down, he rubbed my thighs, then the insides. He rolled me over onto my side and rubbed his hands over my gluts.

"For a guy who claims to be non athletic, you sure have a nice firm body."

I pulled away and pushed him back against the carpet and started removing his jeans and boxers. He had a lot of room to talk about my measurements...he was huge...with straight black pubic hair and an uncut cock that was at full mast.

"How long are you, Jacob," I asked?

"A little over nine inches," he said.

" I got up and went over to the desk and pulled out a ruler. Setting it at the base of his penis, perpendicular to his groin...I measured ten and a quarter inches. It had to be the biggest proboscis that I had ever seen or felt. It was amazing that for his 5 foot 10 inch frame, he was sporting a cock that size. Furthermore, how did he keep it all pulled tight in his boxers with out it showing an outline through his jeans or it hanging down his pant leg?

"How do you keep that monster hidden so that it does not show through your jeans," I asked.

" I wear tightly woven jock straps instead of underwear most of the time, he said. I wanted you to see and feel it...so I left the support at home."

"Well buddy, I have to tell you that it is the biggest cock I have ever seen," I shot back at him.

"So you like it," he asked?

"Yes," I said, " without equivocation."

"Huh," he replied.

"Yes, Jacob...it is the nicest cock I have ever seen," I restated.

"Oh...OK," he replied.

While he was lying on his back on the floor, I stretched out between his legs and ran my tongue along the bottom of his dick. He leaned his head back and moaned. He was enjoying the contact. Then I put my mouth over the head of his dick. He moaned louder. It was hard to go down very far on his shaft because of the thickness and the length. He was enjoying the pressure and moaned again. I was able to go about half way down. He tasted great. I ran my tongue over his head and then down the shaft again and then around his balls.

"Oh," he whispered... "I love having my balls played with."

I took his dick in my right hand and rubbed his balls in my left hand. It was obvious that he had a hair trigger because without any warning, he erupted, shooting semen into the air...quite a bit of semen. He made a big mess on his stomach...but from the way he was hollering...it was easy to tell that he was having a very good time.

I ran and grabbed a hand towel and started cleaning off his chest.

"Ok, Ben, now it is your turn."

He lay down between my legs and went down on my shaft. His saliva was thick and slick. In just a few minutes, I shot my load into the back of his throat. I was surprised when he swallowed the load.

Our whole sexual adventure had lasted less than a half hour.

"Should we get dressed," he asked?

"No," I said, "let's just watch some more television for awhile and then do it again." I laughed.

"That sounds good to me," he responded.

"How many times can you get off in one night," I asked him.

"As many as you want, Ben. As many as you want."

. . . . . . . . .

We watched television for about an hour before turning it off. The embers in the fire place were going out as the house began to cool down. We closed the glass doors to keep anything from popping out on the floor. This cut off the air supply and the coals went from red to black very quickly. Picking up our clothing, we walked up the stairs, naked, to my bed room.

"Want to take a shower before we turn in, Jacob," I asked.

"That would be great," he responded.

I laid out towels and wash cloths. He turned on the water to draw the hot upstairs. As it warmed up, he adjusted the temperature to his liking and got in. I stepped into the shower behind him and helped him lather up his hair. It felt great with the shampoo gently running through the strands of his hair and between my fingers.

"You have great hair," I stated.

"Your hands running through it feels great. I'll give you an hour to quit," he replied back to me.

"I'd take it but the hot water won't last that long." We both laughed. I grabbed the bar soap and began to wash his back. He stood still and let me do it. It was great touching him. After a few minutes, he took the bar of soap from my hands and began to run it over my body as well, using his hands in place of a wash cloth. His hands on my chest felt warm and soothing. He lathered up my pubic hair and then my hardware. I got hard as he stroked my cock with the soap. He rubbed his hands over the bar of soap again and massaged my balls and then pushing through to lather the perineum. Reaching behind me, he slid the bar of soap in the crack of my ass and massaged my sphincter. It was extremely erotic. I leaned towards the glass side of the shower so he had more exposure to my ass.

"Like that Ben," he asked?

"Sure do...that is my G spot for sure...that and my prostate," I returned.

Adding a bit more soap to the orifice, he slid his finger through both sphincters and slowly eased onto my prostate gland. I stood there with my legs spread and leaning forward against the glass. He tapped it a couple of times and then made systematic strokes from the outside of the gland to the center and then did the same on the other side. I felt like I was going to drop another load right there. He pulled his finger to the outside, rubbed the soap and insert two fingers. When he could insert them up to the third knuckle, he began to spread them opening my orifice wider and wider. He proceeded very slowly so the discomfort I felt at first had completely quit hurting. He pulled out again, rubbed the bar of soap and inserted three fingers. He was stretching me. Each time he ran his fingers over the prostate...again I felt like I could cum. The water was starting to cool down. He reached over and shut it off.

"Keep bending towards the glass Ben, now take a deep breath and hold it."

As I did so, I felt him push his penis through the first sphincter. When I did not protest...he pushed in another inch past the second sphincter. It was a little tight...but not really discomforting. Slowly he pushed deeper and deeper. Although the air in the shower was getting cool...my body was hot. The movements of a ten inch dick deep into my canal had me panting. I felt like I was on fire...heat of passion but no pain. He pulled back and pushed in again. It felt like the whole ten inches was rubbing against my prostate gland. I was leaking pre-cum profusely. He made a dozen more thrusts. I felt my own cock swelling and getting really tight. As he continued to thrust into me, he reached around with the bar of soap and lathered up my dick. Each time he pushed forward inside of me, he pulled back on my cock. I was going to cum and do it pretty quickly. My lower body began to shake...like a muscle

spasm...but the kind that doesn't hurt. It was building.

"I'm going to cum, Jacob, I'm going to cum," I shouted as the electrical feeling passed through my groin, traveled all around my balls, up my dick and culminated with a huge ejaculation. Just as I shot the first load..I felt him press me against the glass.

"Me too, Ben...here...it...comes," he screamed as he thrust hard five or six

mashing me against the glass. He suddenly pulled out because of excruciating sensitivity.

"Man, there is such a fine line between extreme pleasure and painful sensitivity," he stated. "I wish I could have humped you like that for another ten or fifteen minutes. It was great."

"I don't think I could have taken much more with that big honkin dick up my butt," I said. "Jacob...I have always enjoyed anal sex...but I've never had a ten incher up there before and especially not one that was as thick as yours. How many times have you plowed other guys to the point of getting off inside them?"

"None, Ben...you are the first who would ever let me try. Man was it good."

I checked to see if I was bleeding. It was a relief to see that there were no tears in the interior corridor. We turned the hot water back on...and to our surprise...there was just enough to wash the soap and semen off before it went completely cold.

We toweled off, and climbed into my bed. He extended his right arm and I laid my head on it and then he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. His soft cock was laying in my crack. He was producing a lot of body heat. It was unlikely that we would get cold tonight. I remember thinking about this anal experience...when I went to sleep.

. . . . . . .

Saturday morning arrived with clear skies and a beautiful sunrise. We had slept in. It was nearly 9:00 AM when I finally woke up. Jacob was laying next to me intently staring at my face. He had such a beautiful face. He could have been a model as attractive as he was. His voice was calm and soothing. Had I just met him and did not know he was gay, I would never have guessed him to be anything but the average handsome straight guy who would charm women right and left while he coached some future team to victory. I wondered how his life would be as a gay coach. Would a school system hire him knowing that he preferred the company of hung men to beautiful women. I wondered what lay in store. Would he be persecuted for being gay or perhaps even have his life threatened. A professor could hide his sexuality...but a coach in a shower room with naked boys and men around him...seemed like a time bomb waiting to explode.