It was in the last days of the semester, in May, and if you've ever lived in the Southwest you know that May can be a very hot and stifling month. After finals were over or winding down there wasn't much to do, except pack up and prepare for the inevitable rites of summer: returning home, working the fry vat at Burger King or at your father's business, and enjoying the feeling of the fall semester being an abstraction hovering somewhere in the future.
My dorm was not so different than others; very few students had TV's in their rooms (even as late as 1992 when I was there), and the board games that could be checked out from the desk were pretty popular. Risk, the world conquest game, was one of the most often played, and during that spring semester several of us from the second floor had long tournaments, marching armies across continents and clashing in epic battles on foreign fields. I wasn't one of the best Risk players, but I was one of the more regular ones. News of our battles quickly spread to other dorms on campus, and that was what brought Tommy calling. He came to join us and occasionally got in on a game, but his sense of strategy was terrible and more often he just ended up watching. He lived over in Hokona Hall, and was known as an unsavory character: kind of a nerd, a hanger-on, someone without real friends of his own who hung around with people whom he pretended were his friends and who were generally too nice to tell him to get lost. It was believed he smoked a lot of pot, and as there were a couple of weed dealers on our floor, he'd been seen on the prowl more than once during the school year. I'd noticed him, and thought he was pretty cute. He was a Navajo, and had a beautiful mane of long, silky black hair, deep eyes that glittered like black marbles, and skin almost the color of copper. Even in ninety degree heat he wore baggy jeans, a T-shirt usually advertising an anime character or a metal band, and a flannel shirt worn open over it, in the "grunge" style that was popular in that era. Still, for most of the year I never thought of him in a sexual way, until one of those days in May at the very end of the year.
On that day--it was a Saturday, the day after my last final exam, but three days before my flight home--he came to play Risk, and found what most of us who lived in our dorm had discovered: the air conditioning had broken down. We usually played in the basement, but it was too hot down there during the day so on this day we played in the lobby. The players were Mark, Tim, Craig, and myself, and Tommy joined us just as we were setting up the board. "Hey, guys, do you mind if I get in here?" I knew that Mark and Tim particularly disliked Tommy, but we were short on players, and, what the hell, it was one of the last days of the year. Tim gave Tommy a little box full of the plastic tokens that represented armies; his color was red.
"I'm the red hordes, eh?" he chuckled. "I guess that makes sense. Indian power!" He laughed but no one else found it funny. "Christ, it's hot in here." With that he did something I had never seen him do before: he took off the long-sleeved flannel and stripped off his T-shirt. He tied the flannel around his waist and stuffed the T-shirt in the back pocket of his jeans. It was not the sight of his bare chest so much that excited me--though clearly he was attractive, much more so than I'd realized--but the casual and almost effeminate way he flicked his hair back after he sat back down. Something clicked in me, and from the very start of that game I felt a twinge in my groin and a strange feeling of anticipation.
We played the game, which went on for five or six hours, well into the evening. Tim and Craig wiped Tommy off the board fairly quickly, but even after his last army was retired, he asked, "Do you guys mind if I stay and see who wins?" Again, no one objected. Tim must have been feeling very charitable that evening, because toward the end of the game he ordered a pizza and paid for it, and still didn't ask Tommy to leave. Tommy never put his shirt back on even as the temperature began to sink down to more comfortable levels. A few times I caught Tommy's eyes on me. No one in the dorm knew explicitly of my divided sexuality, that I liked guys just as much, or even perhaps more, than I liked women. At age 19 I was still too shy to own up to it, but I always feared someone might figure it out, as I'd heard bisexuals can "smell" their own. Then again maybe he was just reacting to me, as my eyes continually assaulted him, surveying the fine deep color of his skin, the shape and color of his nipples, the smoothness and complete lack of hair on his chest except for the very few wispy strands of black hair just beneath his navel. You might say I have an underwear fetish, and even the slightest exposure of an attractive guy's briefs or boxers is likely to get my attention instantly. I could see a very thin white line barely peeking up over the waist of Tommy's jeans. At one point when he leaned over to pick up some tokens that had fallen on the floor I could see more of it; he wore very plain white briefs, which I guess didn't surprise me. When he first took off his shirt and flicked his hair back I got sort of a half-erection, but now I was fully hard. Luckily I was sitting down in a soft, deep couch, and had on a baggy T-shirt too big for me which covered part of my lap, so no one noticed.
By the end of the game I had a feeling he had figured out my secret and was trying to give off signals that he was interested. He sat with his legs crossed knee over knee in a more effeminate style, a habit I'd purposely and consciously tried to cure myself of. More than once I caught him looking at me. Sure enough, after the pizza was gone and Tim conquered the world, Tommy didn't want to go back to his own dorm. "It's boring back there," he told me. "You guys over in this dorm are much cooler. I should put in a request to live here next year." He smiled. "We could be roommates!"
It was still too stuffy upstairs and the air conditioning hadn't been fixed--though during the Risk game we saw workmen continually marching back and forth with parts and tool boxes--so we stayed in the lobby and just chatted. The others who'd played Risk wandered off to do other things, but Tommy's attention remained fixed on me. "So, you're from Washington?" he said. "You know, we never really got a chance to know each other this year. That's too bad." I thought that seemed a funny thing to say, but we talked for a long time; he told me about life at the Tesuque Pueblo, where he lived, and the scholarship program that got him into college, and going to high school in Santa Fe, where he knew my roommate and his friends. As it grew close to ten-thirty at night, he said, "I know you guys have a big tradition of watching Star Trek in your TV lounge every Saturday night. Is anyone watching tonight?"
"I don't know," I replied. "Most everybody's already moved out."
"Well, if you wouldn't mind me joining you, I'd love to." He leaned closer, so as not to be overheard by the lobby desk attendant, and said, "I've got some liquor back in my room. Want me to bring it?"
"Sure. Sounds like fun." I smiled.
I checked out the TV remote from the front desk, and Tommy departed back to Hokona. Supposedly we were a dry campus, but the RA's did not have the power to search closed packages such as book bags so it was relatively easy to bring alcohol in. Because the dorm was so sparsely populated I found I had the large basement TV lounge to myself. Five minutes after the beginning of Star Trek, the door to the lounge opened and Tommy waltzed in. He carried an Eastpak backpack that clinked suspiciously, and he still had not put on his shirt. He came over to the hideous, drooping '70s Naugahyde-covered sofa and flopped down on it right next to me. I mean, RIGHT next to me--this couch was long enough to seat six comfortably, but he was almost touching me. He unzipped the backpack and removed a bottle of Bacardi 151, perhaps three-quarters full, and two of the plastic coffee mugs of the kind on sale at the university bookstore. "Make us a drink," he said. He glanced up at the TV and squinted; I don't think his eyesight was very good. "Which episode is this?"
"It's the one where Captain Kirk is marooned on the American Indian planet and loses his memory."
"You've seen this one before?"
"I've seen all of them before." I poured some rum into each cup and handed him one. He belted back at least a shot and a half's worth and never blinked. I nursed my drink. I was now certain that Tommy was trying to hook up. Throughout the show he kept making overtly sexual comments, always in jest; none of them, however, had an explicitly homosexual tone. "Look at Kirk's babe," he said at one point. "Is it just me, or is one of her tits bigger than the other?" Another time he said, "The chicks on this planet look human with clothes on, but how do you know they aren't different? Maybe they've got two pussies--a second one to massage your balls while you're fucking the crap out of her!" I wondered if it was the alcohol talking, but I didn't think so. Finally he asked me, in as casual tone as he could muster, "Would YOU fuck Kirk?"
"What?"
"Captain Kirk. Would you fuck him?"
It sounded like a joke, but I realized Tommy was fishing for a reaction. I was terrified, but somehow I managed to give him an answer I thought he would pick up on. "Ehh, he's not my type," I replied. I thought Tommy would understand that basing my rejection on his characteristics, rather than his gender, was a subtle signal that I was not opposed to the idea of male-male sex.
"Mine neither," he replied, wrinkling his nose. Almost at the same time, one of the extras, a nameless member of the Indian village, came on the screen. "What about him?" he said. "He's not bad. Got a nice butt."
"Yeah, I guess so." I sipped some more rum. Bewildered, I suddenly realized that each of us had told the other that we liked guys.
The Enterprise warped out to another adventure in the fifty-ninth minute, and then Tommy and I were alone. It was eleven-thirty at night, we were slightly drunk, he was shirtless, and the dorm was nearly empty. My heart pounded with the thought of what might happen next. Tommy yawned and stretched in a very unconvincing way, and then he said, "I'm tired, but I don't quite feel like going back to my dorm."
Now he was fishing for something else--an invitation. I realized with a start that, if I wanted to, I could be having sex with this boy in a matter of minutes. It was feasible. My room was a double, but I was its sole occupant now: my roommate had packed up his belongings and gone back to Santa Fe on Thursday. I didn't think either of the rooms next to mine were occupied anymore. It would be total privacy. With my dick starting to harden, I swilled the Bacardi bottle and said, "There's still some rum left. Here, put it in your bag and we'll go up to my room and finish it."
"Awesome." He plucked the rum bottle out of my hand and started to put it back in the backpack. He made certain that his elbow brushed my arm in a very familiar way. Tommy was very smart, very subtle. He was testing me. I was now determined not to fail any of his tests.
We went upstairs to my room. Some of my things were still in boxes, but the posters were still up and the place was still a mess. "You like heavy metal, huh?" he said, after I closed the door and as he looked at the posters. "I like some. Early Metallica. Good stuff." He sat on my bed, took out the bottle and the two cups again and filled them. He steadied himself. "Whoa. I'm getting buzzed."
"Yeah, me too." I did something I hoped would be a signal. I turned on the small reading lamp on the milk-crate table between my bed and the empty bed of my departed roommate, and then I switched off the main overhead light. Tommy laughed. "Ohh, romantic," he said. He drank, and wiped his brow. "Damn, it's hot. Wish they'd get the A.C. fixed. Take your shirt off, you must be roasting."
I paused, frozen, like a deer in headlights. Aside from some casual sex play with my cousin when we were kids, I had never had a real sexual encounter with a guy before. Dan, do as he says, I told myself. "OK." I stripped off my T-shirt. He was holding out a cup full of Bacardi. I took it, and sat down on the bed next to him.
Now the talk did get unmistakably intimate. "You're attractive," he said.
"You are too."
He took a drink of rum, and then he brushed some hair out of his eyes and leaned forward. It was like time skipped a few moments, because the next thing I knew we were kissing. It didn't feel the slightest bit different to be kissing a guy. It wasn't strange at all. I could taste pizza and Bacardi on the tongue he gently probed into my mouth. I was rock-hard. My mouth was watering. Since I've been a kid, whenever I got the urge to masturbate my mouth would start to water. It was a strange reaction; maybe it had to do with wanting to have a guy's penis in my mouth, or maybe not, but I definitely felt it now. Tommy put his cup down on the milk crate table and put his arms around me. His hands felt warm and comforting on the bare skin of my back. His biceps were lovely. He truly was beautiful. I couldn't help stroking his soft, silky hair. It felt so different from my own hair, almost like it was alive.
We kissed for about fifteen minutes, maybe more. We ended up lying down on my bed. We parted and Tommy was smiling at me. Apropos of nothing he said, "Did you know tomorrow is my birthday?"
"It is?"
"Yeah. May tenth."
"How old?"
"Twenty."
"I'm behind you by about five months." I kissed him. "Happy birthday."
"Thanks."
When we went back to kissing, his hands were suddenly active. He massaged the crotch of my shorts. I couldn't have disguised my arousal even if I wanted to. I touched his groin too. My mind had been racing with thoughts of what Tommy would be like, how big he'd be, if he was cut or uncut. I would soon know. Evidently I didn't go far enough for him. He took his hands off me and paused to unbelt his jeans and undo the top button. I reached down. I felt a savage hardness there underneath the soft fabric of his underwear. There was a slight wet spot on his briefs right at the tip of his dick. This was an ego-boost. He was excited enough by me to start generating precum, even when we had barely started doing anything. He moaned a little, very softly, when he knew my fingers were feeling it. We went back to kissing, and he started to unsnap my shorts. After sliding them down my ass--which he stroked lightly through my tented boxers--I took the opportunity to sit up and pull off his jeans. Even in the dim light of the reading lamp I was tremendously excited by what I saw. A long, arrow-straight shaft bulged the front of his briefs. His legs were dusted with exactly the right amount of soft, silky black hair. When I lay back down I pressed my own hardened member against his. They were separated only by the two thin sheets of the fabric of our underwear.
"Turn the light off," he whispered to me. I reached over to do it; it was quite a reach. As he did so I felt his tongue flick against my nipple. I clicked off the light and darkness fell. His mouth closed around my left nipple. I liked it very much, and let him lick and suck it for quite some time. Even when I felt a very gentle bite I didn't move to stop him. I kissed his neck and up behind his ear. He giggled. Only then I realized his thumbs were hooked under the waistband of my boxers. "It's time for these to come off," he said.
I groaned as I felt his hands on my bare penis for the first time. He explored it, rubbing up and down the shaft, and periodically I felt a strange feeling on the very tip of my dick which I realized was him rubbing his thumb across it. He felt my balls and up further, and I felt the tip of his finger brush my butthole but he did not pursue that. He stroked my throbbing member and commented, "You've got a nice one."
"Thanks."
I reached down to take off his underwear. At first I thought he had already cum because the wet spot on the front of his briefs was much larger and warmer than it had been before. But he hadn't said anything or reacted as if he had orgasmed. For the first time I felt a man's penis in my hands. I was surprised that it felt no bigger or smaller than my own. He was uncircumcised and I had a few moments of fun playing with his foreskin, pulling it up over the head and then skinning him back again. There was wetness covering the entire head of his penis that I realized was precum. I think he sensed my puzzlement, because he whispered, "I get kinda wet sometimes. Sorry about that."
"Don't be sorry." It felt like warm oil, very slick and perfect. A wonderful feeling was emanating from my own shaft and I realized Tommy was masturbating me. I wetted my hand with some of his precum and began to stroke him as well. He moaned his approval. Pleasure was already building in my groin. I hoped I wouldn't cum too quickly; I wanted to drag this on for a while.
I was nervous. I think he could tell that too, maybe from the pounding of my heart. He kissed me and he said, "Don't worry, Dan. No one can hear us. And no one would give a damn if they could." He shifted position a little bit, and he said, "Can you go a little bit faster on me, buddy?"
"Yeah." I picked up the pace. He said that was good. He kept stroking me, but every few seconds he would stop and rub his thumb over my tip as he had done before. Several times he did it, until finally I felt a layer of my own slick precum between his thumb and my slit. "There we go," he said. "Was waiting for that."
It seemed to go on for a long time, though I don't think it really did in real life. A glorious tingling ran up and down my shaft. Tommy's hands were wonderful. Sometimes he brushed the head of my dick against his thigh, wiping my precum on the thin little hairs of his leg. I realized he had experience with this. Our breathing was beginning to get short. "I'm going to cum," I whispered to him breathlessly.
"So am I," he said. But still it didn't happen for another half a minute or so. My own dick was twitching, flirting playfully with the glorious state of super-hardness that came just before a shattering orgasm. I could feel no change in Tommy's penis, but it was now uniformly wet, all up and down. He was panting. "Oh Dan," he said. "Dan...DANIEL...DANIEL..." A spurt of hot white semen fired up from his dick and splattered against my belly. His ejaculation was messy, violent and over quickly, with cum coating my hand, his dick, the hair in his groin, my belly and the sheets. It had barely ended when my own wave crested. I grunted. He kept stroking me even faster as I came, pumping my warm loads of spunk onto his stomach, and with his other hand he stroked my balls, as if trying to coax more sperm from them. When it was over he clutched me close in an embrace, and between his load and mine, a thick, warm, slippery layer now lay between our heaving bellies.
"That was nice," he said.
"Yeah."
"I'm tired, though. D'you mind if I sleep here?"
"No. Not at all." I started to move. "I'll get a towel or something."
"Don't bother. Just pull the covers up, though, or it'll get cold before it dries."
We both fell asleep. I wasn't yet used to sleeping with someone, least of all a boy, and I woke up several times in the night. Our semen dried on our skin and I could feel it flaking off as I moved. Tommy had his arm around me for most of the night. I thought it was all over, but it wasn't. Indeed the mutual hand job was just a teaser.
My first indication that Tommy wasn't finished with me was when I awakened and felt his hand on my crotch, holding my limp penis and slack balls. I couldn't tell whether he was asleep or not. My arm was totally numb, so I moved slightly to relieve it, but took pains not to disturb him or move his hand. After a few silent minutes I got brave enough to explore his body too. I closed my hand around his penis. It was strange, he seemed much bigger than me when limp, but when we were both hard we were about the same size. I awakened perhaps half an hour later to a strange sensation. My hand was still in place, but Tommy was rock-hard. His hand was around the back of mine, and he was moving it, as if he hoped to cause me to start jacking him off in my sleep. I said nothing and tried not to move the rest of my body, but I started pumping his dick with my own voluntary motion and he knew I was awake. He was obviously very aroused. The endless leak of precum started again. And he started saying things, whispering. "That's good. Aw, God, that feels good." He reached for my crotch and found me erect too. "Oh man, you're hard too. C'mon, you want to do something? You really want to do something? I want to have sex with you, Dan. C'mon, let's have sex. I want it, buddy, c'mon, will you do it?"
He took away my hand and rolled over in bed, changing positions so that he was lying on his side with his back toward me. He kicked away the covers. Some strange, quietly hysterical kind of lust had seized him. I say quietly because we didn't make that much noise; the dorm was still as silent as a tomb. He reached behind him and grabbed my penis. He pulled it toward him and I snuggled closer to him, into a spooning position. When I felt him pressing the head of my dick between his butt cheeks I realized that he was totally serious--he wanted me to fuck him. For a moment I wondered whether I really wanted to go so far as to have anal sex with this boy. But it's a little hard to say no when an attractive guy has got your boner in his hand and trying valiantly to penetrate his own ass with it. So, I started to try to help him.
It didn't go too well. Maybe my dick was too short or we were in the wrong position or something--I had a feeling Tommy hadn't done a lot of butt fucking--but neither of us succeeded in getting me inside him, at least not for long. I thought I could feel my tip entering his butt, and at one point he whispered, "Oh yeah, that's it," but I quickly slipped out and we were thwarted again. He licked his fingers, slicked up my head and made another attempt but that failed too. Perhaps with proper lubricant we could have had more success. When he gave up I was almost relieved, but I didn't have long to dwell on it. Tommy climbed on top of me, his head at my groin, his knees straddling my head. "Let's do it this way," he said.
I knew what came next, and this one was totally fine with me. He slid my dick into his mouth. The sensation was sweet and wonderful, a hard and commanding suction mixed with the tender ministrations of a nimble tongue. My nose was buried in his groin. His hair had a musky smell, almost like cumin seed. It was a strange connotation; it reminded me of Ginny, the girl I'd dated briefly during the fall semester, and the way her privates had smelled. I put my lips around Tommy's penis and savored the feeling. It was the first time of giving oral sex to a guy, and it felt completely natural, as if I'd been doing it for years. His head seemed to swell against my tongue. The feelings of pleasure radiating from my dick flowed right back into the pleasure I gave to him. I felt dampness again between our bellies and I realized he was sweating; perhaps I was too. He took my penis as deep into his mouth as he could. I couldn't take him that far but I did my best, hoping that I wouldn't disappoint him. Periodically he began to take my shaft out of his mouth and stroke it several times with his hand before going back to work with his mouth. I could taste a warm salty flavor coating my tongue, and strangely it took me a long time to realize it was his precum. I heard him moaning and could feel his body quivering. I was doing the same things. I don't know how long it lasted, but it was a wonderful experience.
Again he came before I did. He took my dick from his mouth, and, stroking it hard, I heard him whisper, "Danny, I'm gonna cum, I'm so close!" I don't know if he expected me to let him cum in my mouth or whether he was warning me to take him out before he did, but I kept on going. My own dick was still clutched tightly in his hands when I felt a warm eruption spreading across my tongue. I swallowed it instantly and more of the rich stuff spurted from his tip. He kept coming, throwing bolt after bolt of sperm across my tongue. I barely tasted it, purposely swallowing it quickly so the taste wouldn't linger. Then the sweet warmth enveloped my shaft again. Something else happened too: I felt a warm, saliva-slicked fingertip gently press itself into my butthole. I spit out Tommy's dick and gasped at the sudden jagged gush of pleasure, and then my balls emptied themselves into his mouth with a fury I'd never experienced. The rush was so powerful I almost felt like I was unconscious for a second or two, and then there was only the pleasant hum of post-coital bliss, and Tommy crawling back under the covers to embrace me. He had swallowed everything. He did reach for one of the rum cups on the night-table and I heard him swishing rum around in his mouth. Then he swallowed, and kissed me on the forehead. "That was terrific," he sighed.
"Yeah, it was."
"You back next fall?"
"Yeah."
He hugged me closer. "Awesome." Within two minutes he was asleep. Dawn was creeping around the edges of the curtains. I had almost fallen into a blissful slumber of my own when I heard a loud, jarring click and then a soft, steady hiss coming from somewhere above. I raised my head off the pillow. A draft of cool air brushed my cheek. The air conditioning had been repaired.
THE END