Jess' Story Chapter 9 From Jess' viewpoint
I found myself thinking about Paul repeatedly that evening after he called to invite me to lunch. Something had attracted me to him since I first saw that picture of him in Anne's dorm room. He looked so hot. Stripped to the waist. I had jerked off staring at that picture and I couldn't get him or that special feeling out of my head ever since.
I have to say there was more to it than that. More than just a great cum. But it was a great cum, even with Anne right there. Both times I'd seen him -- crossing the street in front of Anne's dorm and at lunch the next day -- there seemed to be this kind of vibe I got from him. Hard to explain, but it felt good.
What didn't make any sense was that he was dating Anne. So probably I was only imagining that there was something happening between us. He just wanted to be friends. He probably didn't even know how tuned into him I was. Friends? What the hell, I could use another friend.
To be honest about this stuff, I should tell you that I jerked off thinking of him again that night after he called. I felt kind of stupid getting so fixed on this guy. I had hardly even met or seen him more just briefly. He'd only asked if we could have lunch cuz he didn't have any friends on campus. I was acting like a stupid high school freshman with a crush.
By the time we met for lunch on Tuesday, I'd jerked off thinking of him two more times. The call from him had somehow pushed all my negative thoughts about Anne from my head and refilled it with fantasies of this guy.
I hadn't had feelings like this for anyone since Tolley my freshman year. To be honest, when I was jerking off picturing Paul, I was also remembering Tolley a little. It was like a cautionary tale. It was a warning to me: Don't get too into this guy. It's easy to get hurt.
I'd certainly gotten hurt by Tolley and trying to move things too fast. At least too fast for him. I knew I was getting myself all worked up over Paul. Fucking horny is what I was. And I was pretty sure there wasn't a chance he was gay or even bi.
As I waited for it to be time for my lunch with Paul, the hours and minutes and seconds crept by. As they did, I'd decided a couple of things I would and wouldn't do: I'd be honest and up front that I was sexually "undeclared." I hoped he would tell me if he was bi or straight or whatever. But if he didn't I wouldn't ask or pry. No matter what he said, I would not come on to him. Not right away. I'd make it clear I wanted to be friends. If he wanted more, he'd have to make the first move, at least for now. Let him set the pace. I'd have to be content to follow his lead. But above all, I'd do my best to be honest with him. As honest as a friend could be.
Honesty and friendship. It was like my new mantra. I found myself repeating it over and over in my head. "Honesty and friendship."
It made sense to me, but I knew it wasn't going to be easy. I was too worked up over this guy for anything to be easy. I needed to relax and calm down. That's why I'd whacked off twice. I thought it might curb my need. It usually worked that way for me.
I was more than 20 minutes early to meet Paul for lunch. That pretty much says it all. The good news, at least in my mind, was that he was almost 15 minutes early. We both made an excuse for why we were so early. I think his was about as lame as mine.
We got our food and then both sat there just looking at each other silently. Both of us awkwardly waiting for the other to speak first. I was trying to figure out if he was giving off that same vibe he had the first two times I saw him. Or if my gaydar was picking up anything. I'd pretty much decided neither was in play when . . .
"So I guess you have a lot of friends." After making that odd opening comment, Paul quickly looked down at his food and started toying with a grape in his fruit cup. I didn't really know what to say. I saw Paul look up at me over his food. He had a hopeful look in his eyes. That look sent a vibe I liked!
"I guess I know a lot of people. Not all of them are really friends," I said. Wondering where he was going with this opening.
Silence descended on us again until I finally broke it. "So I guess one of my friends must have given you my number. Why not just ask Anne?" I guess maybe that came out a little harsh, cuz Paul blushed and looked really uncomfortable. For a second I thought maybe I'd screwed up and he was just gonna take his lunch and leave. So I added, "I was really glad that you called. I think I could use a new friend."
I could see the relief in Paul's face. His whole body suddenly relaxed and he smiled. That made me smile and it hit me hard how important it was to me to make this guy, a guy I didn't even really know, happy.
"Well, I actually got your number from Anne's cell. It's just that she doesn't know," Paul said cautiously, like he was testing to see how I'd react to that bit of information.
"She doesn't know you got my number from her cell . . . Or she doesn't know about you asking me to lunch?"
"Both. I know she's pretty upset with you. She didn't say why, but she said something like you'd gone too far. I doubt she'll be pissed for too long. I think she sort of has a crush on you." Paul said. Again I could see he had that kind of uncertainty as to how I might react. I just played it cool.
"Well, I don't know if she's upset or not," I lied, "but we had a little disagreement the other day. I think it'll blow over. You think she's got a crush on me? I never would have guessed that." I wanted to move away from my problem with Anne as fast as I could. I didn't want this conversation going there. If I was gonna be honest with Paul, I didn't want to do it discussing why Anne was so mad at me.
Honesty and friendship.
Paul went on talking about Anne. Asking how I came to know her. Telling me how he had come to know her. It turned out he didn't even really remember her from high school. She saw him on campus and asked him out and kept calling him. Since he didn't have any friends at our school, he'd said OK. "She's a nice girl and all, but . . ." He paused and shrugged and thrust out his lower lip in a way that seemed to dismiss her importance. Thank god, at last maybe we could start talking about something else.
Lately Paul had met a few guys who played touch football on Sunday afternoons. But even after a month of joining them, he still felt like an outsider around them.
We talked about classes and majors and bars and stuff like that. It was easy talking to him and I liked finding out about him and what he was into. I got the feeling that we really could become friends. In some ways being there with him just talking reminded me of killing time with Billy. I liked it.
There was a little pause as we both started eating again and then he asked, "So are you dating anyone?"
I knew what he really meant was "Are you gay, or bi or what?" I had sort of anticipated that question, or at least letting him know. But when I was confronted with answering it, I started to stammer.
"It's summer, you know, not a lot of . . . you know, people around," I said not looking him in the eyes. "Usually I go out most every weekend, but I don't usually date really. I just go with what's going on." Even I didn't know what that meant.
"Yeah, me too. I'm not really into dating," he said and gave me another one of his wicked ass smiles. It left me staring at him and thinking how much I could really get into this guy. It also reminded me how important it was to stick with my game plan. Honesty and friendship.
I guess I was ready to tell him I was "undeclared" or whatever, which is pretty much what I meant to do. But then I got to wondering. Had he just tried to tell me he was . . . What had he told me? Or was I reading too much into that one question?
My stomach went tight.
The conversation had come to a halt all of a sudden. We were both just sitting there looking at each other. He was giving me his smile. I felt like a dog in heat, but my stomach was so knotted up I was about ready to barf.
I had told myself I'd be honest with him, so I blurted out, "I take it where I can get it."
Paul looked stunned at first. Like maybe I'd hit him in the nuts or something. Then he nodded like he understood, but I felt compelled to explain, "Sexually, that is."
There, I'd said it. But for some reason I couldn't just leave it at that. "It doesn't matter to me so much if it's boys or girls." I stared into his eyes to see his reaction.
Paul was leaning back in his seat with the biggest smile I'd seen from him, which at that point was saying a lot. And he kept smiling that wicked-ass smile at me. My answer seemed to make him too happy. I didn't get it.
At last he sort of nodded like we'd come to some sort of agreement and said, "Yeah, me too, I guess."
I didn't know what to say. Was he telling me that he . . .?
There was an awkward pause. I think maybe we had both caught each other by surprise. We stared at each other. He was smiling. His big smile. A real smile. I wanted to feel the way he felt. But instead my smile was an attempt to cover-up the wild churning in my guts.
"So I gotta go. I told this kid I'd come look at his car," Paul said kind of sudden like, making like he was getting ready to check out.
I didn't want him to go. I thought we were about to really start talking to each other. About stuff that really mattered. At least to me. But also I was afraid that if we kept talking, this could be like Tolley and me all over and maybe I'd never see him again.
Honesty and friendship. Honesty and friendship.
I needed to keep him there. I needed to keep him engaged.
I was grasping at straws or whatever. I asked, "So you work on cars? You a good mechanic?"
"No, I hardly know anything about cars, but I'm trying to buy one," he said, settling back into his seat as he answered. "I called this kid who has to sell his car. He lives not too far from here. Do you want to come with me? I could use a little help. I really don't know anything about buying cars."
Why did every second of every minute with Paul seem so important? Should I go with him? Should I . . .
Honesty and friendship.
"I don't know a thing about cars either, but if you want a little company while you look, I can join you."
He smiled. I smiled back. We each paid for our own lunch. This could work. I just needed to relax. This could really work.
To Be Continued . . .
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this project are real. The names and some other identifying information in this story have been changed to conceal the identities of the characters described. The Copyright for this story is held by HardReader. The story may not be reprinted or distributed elsewhere in print, electronically or digitally without the permission of the author. I would love to receive comments on this story from readers. Email me at hardreader2000@aol.com
While you're waiting for the next episode, I hope you'll stay happy. And stay hard! -- H.R.