Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. It is a story that contains graphic sexual encounters between consenting young adult men. If you are not of legal age to read this kind of story, please leave now. If you reside in area where reading stories that include sexual situations between two consenting adult males are illegal, please leave now. This story is for entertainment purposes only. Any similarity to any person(s) living or dead is simply a coincidence. The author retains all rights to this story. It cannot be reproduced in any form without expressed written permission from the author (me). Copyright 2006.
"James's College Days", part one.
Gordon Resser. When my grandmother saw his name on the door to my room in the dorms earlier in the day, she said disapprovingly, "He's not Italian." I glanced at the name and thought it interesting that he had a last name that is the same forward and backward.
My parents and grandmother had driven me across country. They wanted to help me move into the dorms. I assured them I could make the trip alone, but my mother explained that my dad was brimming with pride and would be disappointed if I did not allow him the pleasure of introducing me to his Alma Mater and the dormitory in which he lived when he attended Notre Dame.
I am an only child. However, my grandmother, her name is Josephine, has been living with us since I was a year old. I have a best friend, Eric, who actually moved into my house our senior year of high school. We became best friends when we were in third grade. When we were in middle school, Eric's mother and sister were killed in a car accident. Eric's father, who had always been an alcoholic, abdicated most of his parental responsibilities to my parents. My mother opened her home to Eric out of a deep concern. My grandmother opened her heart to him with love. My dad had always wanted more children. Eric and I were more like brothers than best friends.
I guess the full impact of my decision to attend a college so far from home did not sink in until my parents said good bye. My dad was all smiles. My mother's eyes teared-up. My grandmother just shook her head and said that I could still change my mind and drive back with them. My grandmother, my mother's mother, a woman born in Italy, held to the belief that a child should not leave home until married. She was not at all impressed with the campus, the dormitory, or the food in the commons and let her feelings be known over and over again.
As she left she hugged and kissed me and said, "Don't let those priests in your room at night. You know what they do to good looking boys like you." I laughed and wondered if there was ever a thought that came into her head that she did not express. She kissed me again and said, "I want a letter from you every week. And not that `I got mail' shit."
"Yes, Grandma," I said smiling. "I promise, I will mail you a letter every week." Bending down (she is five foot one inch) I kissed her on her cheek.
I waved to them as they drove off.
As I lay in bed that first night, the first night I had ever really been alone, feeling lonely and unsure of my decision, I decided to call Eric. I glanced at my clock. It was 11:28 p.m. It would be three hours earlier in Los Angeles.
I called his cell. He answered, "Hey Jimmy, do you miss me?"
"Shut up," I said. He laughed. "What are you doing?" I asked.
"Watching T.V. What are you doing?"
"I'm in bed."
"Jerking off?" he asked and laughed. .
"In a little while," I answered and smiled. My dick started getting hard. Eric, although he was as straight as any guy could be, was my jerk off buddy. He loved to jerk off and would at any given opportunity. It was something we did every night before going to sleep when he lived with us
"You sound down. What's going on?" he asked.
"I hope I didn't make a mistake by coming here. I'm feeling lonely."
"What's your roommate like?"
Gordon Resser. Staring up at the ceiling I began to rub my erection, I said, "He's not here yet. Today was the first day the dorms were open. You don't have to be checked in for another couple of days." Often, when Eric and I would lay beside each other and jerk off we would talk about things that happened during the day, like a grade one of us got on an exam., or something funny that happened in a class, or a girl he saw that he wanted to fuck. Actually, it was often about a girl he saw that he wanted to fuck and hardly ever about the girl he was fucking. Once he fucked them he began losing all interest in them.
"You know you could always come back. You could go to UCLA and we could get an apartment someplace in between UCLA and CSUN," (he was attending Cal. State University: Northridge).
The idea suddenly sounded good to me. "You've already got an apartment and roommates," I reminded him. I had been accepted to several colleges in California, including UCLA, but I wanted to get away from everyone I knew, especially Eric.
"They're jerks and I hate them already. Come back. We'll make great roommates, dude. I mean, we've been roommates since forever. Besides, you know you'd rather jerk off with me than anyone else," he said and laughed. Little did he know how true that was. I had dated several girls in high school but never fell in love with any of them. I had this all-consuming crush on Eric that began before we started high school. I thought the only chance I had of falling in love with a woman was to get away from him.
Soon Eric started telling me about a girl he met at freshman orientation. Eric dated and bedded more girls than anyone in our high school class. And I heard every detail about every one of them as we jerked off. Lying beside him, I would hear about how this girl gave better head then that girl, or who this girl liked this position when fucking and that girl like another. But, no girl gave him as good a hand job as I did. Our talking went on until one of us was ready to cum.
"I'm getting close," he would announce.
"Wait, I'm almost there," I'd explain.
Then we would stroke wildly and launch spunk inches into the air and watch each other's load splash down onto our bodies. I usually came more than he did and further. He loved it when I shot far enough to get cum on my face.
We talked until I felt better. I told him that I would finish the first semester at Notre Dame and if I hated it I would take him up on his offer.
As we were about to hang up, he said, "Damn, Jimmy, I'm all boned and you know how I hate having sex alone."
I said, "I'm going to hang up now and jerk off," and laughed.
"Jimmy, I miss you, a lot. I think it sucks that you went so far away," he said and hung up.
I put my cell phone on the floor beside my bed. I uncovered myself and began stroking my dick. I closed my eyes and remembered the last time Eric and I jerked off together. It was the night before I left Los Angeles. He had already moved into his apartment with friends from high school who were now also going to attend CSUN. My grandmother was making a big dinner for me and, of course, Eric would be there. He decided to spend the night.
After dinner, my grandmother and my parents went to their bedrooms. Eric and I undressed and went for a swim in my parent's pool in our underwear. Then we took off our boxers and climbed into the Jacuzzi. All the lights were out.
Eric said, "I really hate that you're going to Notre Dame. I mean, if you went to Berkeley at least you'd be within driving distance."
"I know, but this is a good opportunity," I said as I reached over and touched his leg.
Eric and I started jerking off together the summer before we started high school. Eric never said no to us jerking off together. When he moved into my room a year before, we jerked off together every night and sometimes in the morning. There were even times when we would get home from school, go to our room and he would say, "Dude, I'm so fuckin' horny, I've got to rub one out." I'd lock our door and have my pants to the floor to join him. It was a great time.
There were times he would let me jerk him off, but sometimes he would pushed my hand away. When he did let me jerk him off, he would rarely return the favor.
The Jacuzzi felt great. I kept my hand on his leg and waited to see what he would do.
He said, "Are you coming home for Thanksgiving and Christmas?"
I moved closer to him. My dick was rock hard. I said, "Probably not Thanksgiving, but for sure Christmas. You should stay here over Christmas break. We could hang out. Maybe take off and go skiing."
He looked at me and smiled, "Yeah, let's do that. I'll get us a room in Reno and we can ski Squaw Valley." I moved my hand onto his dick. He was hard. He lay his head back and relaxed. I gently ran my fingers up and down the shaft of his dick and then around its head. He turned his head toward me and smiled. "I'm going to miss this, too."
"Me, too."
"You'd better not be doing this with anyone else or I'll get jealous," he said as he reached over and took hold of my dick.
We never talked about this; never. It all started that summer before high school when we wagered to see who would give a hand job to the other. We were still wagering once in a while. Eric usually won. But sometimes it was something that just happened. He looked at me and asked, "Does Bo," the nickname one of the guys on the swim team gave to my dick, "want to go inside and play?" and smiled.
I nodded. We both climbed out the Jacuzzi and grabbed out wet underwear and towels. I turned the Jacuzzi off and followed him into our room. We dried off and then climbed onto my bed. Our routine for jerking each other off was always the same. I sat down on my bed and leaned against the head board. He straddled my legs, sitting so that our balls were almost touching. We would sit facing each other, rubbing, squeezing and jerking each other's dick. I long ago learned that if Eric came first he would not want to bring me to orgasm. So, I made it my mission to always come first.
He stroked my dick and played with my balls as I gently stroked him. I had the same fantasy each time we did this facing each other. He would get up on his knees, I would move down between his legs. I would lick his shaved balls working my way up the shaft of his clean seven inch cut dick; take it into my mouth, taking it down my throat, burying my nose in his trimmed pubes. In my fantasy, I could hear him moaning and then feel this cock erupt, flooding my mouth with his cum.
I felt myself getting close. He began stroking me harder and faster. "Yeah, Jimmy, let it go." He looked into my eyes. I so desperately wanted to kiss him. "Let it go, buddy."
I began to thrust upward. My legs squeezed together as I began to moan. I bit my lip so as not to call out his name. We both watched as he jerked me and cum began to shoot out of my dick. It went everywhere; thick long strings of white cum. My body shook all over. I could not stop thrusting upward as he continued to stroke my cock.
He sat back and smiled at me and wiped the cum that was on his hand onto my stomach. His dick was still rock hard and pointing to the ceiling. He said, "You're like a fuckin' fountain."
I laughed and then took hold of his dick. He smiled and arched his back forward. I sat up and began stroking his dick slowly with one hand as I played with his balls with the other.
"Jimmy, no girl gives me a hand job anything like the hand jobs you give me. You're spoiling me," he said and moaned. "I think it's true, what they say." I glanced up at him, taking my eyes off his rock hard dick. "Only a guy knows what another guy likes." It took all the will power I had not to take his dick into my mouth. The only thing that stopped me was knowing that if I did, it would be the last time he would let me near him.
I could feel my cum running down my chest. My dick was still hard. I kept stroking his dick. I felt his balls pull tight. His chest was becoming splotchy. I looked up at him, his eyes were closed and his ears were bright red. He was ready. I moved my fingers back and forth over his scrotum and toward his butt hole. He groaned loudly. I moved closer to him. He began to cum. The first shot hit me on the neck. The second hit me on the chest. He kept thrusting forward and moaning and cumming, about half his load remained on my hand.
When he was finished cumming he quickly moved off of me and went to his bed. I stepped off my bed and went into the bathroom. I closed the door behind me. I ran the shower. But, before I stepped in, I licked all his cum off my hand and held it on my tongue. I searched for and gathered up the rest of his cum and licked if off my fingers. I stepped into the shower. I was rock hard again. The salty taste of his cum and the way it felt on my tongue brought me to a second climax. I swallowed as I began to cum.
As I lay in my bed in my dorm room, thinking about standing in the shower jerking off with his cum in my mouth, remembering how it felt and how it tasted, I had the most incredible orgasm. It was my first orgasm since that last night with Eric.
My cum was thick, very thick and there was plenty of it. But I was not done. I went back to stroking my dick and continued to think about Eric. I wished that I had Eric's cum to enjoy. I looked at the globs of cum on my chest, wiped them up with my finger and fed myself my spunk. I quickly came for the second time. But my cum never tasted as good to me as Eric's.
I got up, cleaned myself off and climbed into bed hating myself for what I had just done and my for my fantasies. I sat down on my bed and once again made a commitment to stop this.
More to come.
(I know the stories on this sight have a lot of sex in them. This story some. What I am doing is writing background stories, trying to develop characters for a novel I am writing; actually, my second novel.
When I wrote my first novel I was part of a writing group. We talked about the characters and plotline of the novels we were writing. I recently moved and haven't found a group of people. Someone who has written for this site suggested I post here and that I might hear from people and receive constructive criticism.
What I did in the past, and what works well for me, was to write about situations my characters might find themselves in, so as to know them inside and out. Many of these vignettes were later reduced to a single paragraph or a single line or not used at all in the final novel. Some were used word for word. The novel went from over 550 pages at the first draft with all that I had written to about 350 pages when published.
I have a general plotline for this second novel. The main characters are James, his best friend Eric, and Kevin who is not yet mentioned. Both Gordon and Mark (they both show up in the next part), are unimportant to the plotline of the novel I am writing. But they will be important to James. As of now, I do not know what will happen between James and Gordon and James and Mark, but something sexual will happen with one of them and not the other. Whatever does happen will set the stage for James's future at Notre Dame which is not what the novel is about, but is the backdrop; the past that sets the novel in motion. The novel begins with James leaving South Bend and driving home after graduating from Notre Dame.)
I hope you will read along.
I hope to hear from you. You can email me at Storyman1019@aol.com