LET'S FIND OUT
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
I could see I was getting Brendan pissed. "Look, Mary, could you just spit it out, already?" he demanded, pursing his too-feminine lips in a pout.
I looked around nervously, but nobody was looking our way even with Brendan's rather loud outburst. Of course, everyone at the college was used to Brendan by now. It's one thing to be gay and out of the closet, but Brendan was taking the "out" part pretty far. I was nervous as hell approaching him, but I could count the gay men I knew about on the thumbs of one hand. Him. Brendan.
I started again. "I'm saying I got these dreams, right?
"You said that already." Brendan examined his nails. Painted with bright red fingernail polish, even.
"They're bothering me, but they won't go away."
"Yeah." Brendan said. "So, what are you dreaming about, girlfriend?"
"Don't call me that!" I groaned, then before he could get upset, I said, "They're all about me having sex. With other guys."
I have to admit, I was scared to blurt that out, to Brendan, the ultimate "Miss Thing" made flesh (I'd learned about Miss Thing in a class about cultural diversity, the ultimate flaming queen always on the make), but he took it well enough. "Oh, so you mean...."
"I mean that if I'm dreaming about it this much, I must be...."
"In the closet!"
"No!" I said quickly. Then, "I don't think so, that is. I like girls just fine! But I guess you'd say that...."
"You are curious."
I grimaced. "Yeah. That is, I need to find out just how deep down this goes."
"So how do I figure into this?"
"Well, that is, you're gay and so I figured that...." This time I wasn't interrupted, I trailed off. Brendan made me say it, he waited me out. "I figured that if I have to find out, I need someone to find it out with. And since, you're the only man I know who's into other men, I was...." Shit, he was going to make me say the whole fucking thing! "I was hoping that you'd let me find out what it's like. With you."
"O-o-o-oh!" Brendan gave the most theatrical sound of realization you could imagine and I winced. And then the laughter began, and every bit of his sissified antics suddenly boiled up in my craw and I felt physically ill.
"Never mind, okay! Just never mind!" I snarled and got the hell out of there! I got back to my room and just threw myself down on the bed and wished I were dead, just freaking dead! God, if Brendan started blabbing around the campus that I had propositioned him, I was going to be labeled gay in no time flat. Actually, the word I was going to get labeled was worse, I'd be "a fucking queer!"
I moaned and buried my face deeper into my pillow. I should have known better! I should have known!
Some unknown time later, I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, Seth, what's up?"
I knew the voice well, my roommate, Lyle. "Hey, Lyle. Nothing, I'm just wishing I were dead, that's all."
"What's wrong?" Lyle sat down on his own bed, a bare foot of empty floor separated it from mine. Our desks were on the other sides. I turned and looked at him.
Lyle was the "other guy" in my dreams more often than not. They were all people I knew, one of my professors, the guy down the hall, a guy I'd seen in one of my classes. But Lyle featured in more than half of them, and I guess that was because I knew him so well. And because he's just such a big, handsome stud of a guy. Curly light-brown hair, pale golden skin, a cute pug nose below blue eyes, merry cheeks and a dimple in his chin. His body was strongly coated in firm muscles, that made arcs all over his form, from his shoulders to his biceps to a six-pack of abdominals to his barrel-like legs. I wasn't hard on the eyes, slimmer but not scrawny, black hair, dark eyes, deeper-brown-colored skin that had created a nasty rumor about my home town that my mother must have cheated on my father with a black man. My father and mother were both paler than me, so maybe there was something to it, but if I were part-black, the skin was the only place I was showing it...if there.
"Come on, Seth, talk to me." Lyle said. "What's bugging you?"
"Oh!" I just moaned. "I made a total ass of myself, that's all."
"What happened?"
"I guess I'd better tell you about it." I groaned and went into it. All of it. Lyle listened and heard me out. "So you see," I concluded. "You might want to get yourself another roommate in a hurry. When Brendan goes around blabbing about me, it might splatter off onto you."
"I wouldn't worry about that." Lyle said. "He's a flaming queen all right, but I can't say I've ever heard him say a word to anyone about who he's sleeping with. Have you?"
"No." I admitted. "I just assumed nobody was."
"Maybe." Lyle admitted himself. "But on the other hand, if he is sleeping with nobody, he would have jumped at a chance to get it on with you, wouldn't he? Instead of laughing. So he's got someone or more than someone, and he's keeping his mouth shut about all of them and will keep quiet about you. So don't worry about it."
"Okay." I said, somewhat relieved. Then I remember the second half of the problem. "But what about the rest of it?"
"What rest of it?"
"Me, and my dreams. My curiosity. I mean, I did proposition him."
"You were just curious." Lyle agreed. "Hell, everyone has some curiosity about what it would be like to do it with another guy. It's just fantasy."
"Yeah, but my dreams, man!" I was emboldened enough to say that again. "If I just have some curiosity, why am I dreaming about it so much? Nearly every night!"
"Don't worry about it. Dreams are dreams. They'll stop sooner or later. I used to dream every night about my mother's best friend, and she's about fifty years old. Now I look at her or think about her and I think, Damn, Lyle, that's fucked up!'"
I had to laugh. "Hey, if I'm dreaming about you, I must be fucked up!"
"You sure must be!" Lyle grinned. "I'm not worried about it. You shouldn't be, either, okay?"
"Okay." I joked. "I just hope my dreams get back to women pretty soon. Sucking all that dick, even in my dreams, is wearing me out!"
And in that fog of camaraderie, Lyle and I got through it and I got over it. Enough that when Lyle and I went to the cafeteria for supper and when I saw Brendan, I just smiled at him and turned away. I didn't want him, even if I were curious about sex with another man! I wanted someone like Lyle!
That little slip of my brain kept feeding at me. I'd made a play for Brendan and been laughed at. But Lyle hadn't laughed at me. If I was going to find out what it was like to have sex with another man, why not approach Lyle?
Aw, come on! Lyle had plenty of girlfriends, I'd seen them more than once. He had recently broken up with Sofia, but that had been because she'd transferred to another college last spring. Nothing he'd said made me think he'd ever had any of my curiosity here. Except that comment about how everyone had some curiosity about gay sex. He'd said that, hadn't he? Aw, man, I'd already been shot down once, by an effeminate nightmare of a man who I'd figured for an easy mark. I wasn't nearly ready to antagonize a good friend on the same damned day by suggesting he put out for me!
Still, with everything that happened, it shouldn't be surprising that when I went to sleep and started dreaming, the man that I held in my passionate embrace was Lyle. Lyle who I kissed, Lyle whose prong I held in eager hands, hearing his gentle male voice as I knelt and aimed that huge prod (gigantic, impossible to take) into my mouth. I sucked on him and Lyle moaned, and I sucked and his cock got longer and longer and stretched out and out, the center part of it got thinner and thinner, and it...it broke! Lyle looked at me as if I had betrayed him, me with his cock in my hand, still warm and throbbing and dripping with precome, and then Lyle fell and I screamed for someone to help him, help, oh, please, help!
I sat up in bed, panting hard.
"Seth?" Lyle asked me groggily. "What is it, man? You woke me up!"
"Sorry!" I heaved, caught my breath and said, "Another dream."
"Sounded more like a nightmare."
"Well, it was." I took another deep breath. "It started out as another of those sex-with-a-guy dreams and then it got nasty."
"Who was it this time?"
"Uh. It was you."
"Me?"
"Yeah. I was sucking you and I guess I sucked too hard, because I pulled your penis off."
"Ouch." Lyle said. "And that's when you woke up?"
"Yelling for someone to come help you." I held my head in my hands. "Oh, God, I just can't take this much longer, man, I tell you, I can't take it!"
"You back to talking to Brendan again?"
"No! Yes! I mean, I don't want him! But who else have I got? If I'm going to do it, it has to be him. God, I'm pathetic!" I put my head in my hands, hating my life and hating myself.
I felt my bed shift and then a warm arm around my shoulders. Lyle's voice was as soft as the pillow I'd been lying on. "It doesn't have to be him." he said.
I didn't get it right away, honest! Too wrapped up in self-pity. "If I don't ask him, who could I ask?" I bemoaned my fate.
"Lyle's head was right beside my ear, moving as he said, "You could ask me." And with those words, his lips kissed my cheek, a brushing motion rather than a smacking sound.
Now I understood. And accepted gratefully. "Are you sure?" I asked him.
"Sure I'm sure." Lyle assured me. "You want to find out what it's like? Well, me too. We'll find out together."
"Great!" I breathed and turned to kiss him directly.
I'd never kissed another guy before (naturally!) and I was surprised how much it felt like kissing a girl. Especially when his lips parted and we started kissing open-mouthed. His tongue slid into my mouth and mine into his and it felt just like every girl I'd ever French-kissed. Better even, for Lyle was somehow more...aggressive.
When you kiss a girl, even one with a strong libido, the man is expected by her and by himself that he will take the upper hand in things. He is expected to be the one holding her, the one controlling the kissing, the one whose arms are outside of the girl's, wrapping her up, containing her, protecting her.
With Lyle, I didn't have that. I had some of it, but only some of it. I was holding him, but he was holding me, too. We solved that by tilting our arms so that we could contact each other's bodies without intersecting the arms. Lyle's mouth was controlling this kiss, but my tongue was on top of his. He was pushing me back upon the bed, but after all, he was the one upright with only one knee on my bed, while I was lying within it, so him laying me back was the natural order of things, and I accepted that, laid back as his arms bade me...passive.
Kyle released me only to shift my covers back so he could join me inside the bed, I scooted over and onto my side as he slid in, and then he was holding me, kissing me, again and I was holding him, kissing him, again.
Only my hand was feeling down his body, searching for that dong of his, I wanted to get hold of it, touch it, hang onto it and never let it go! When I touched him, I realized that he was completely naked! I was wearing my briefs, but Lyle had come into my bed stone-cold nude!
"Ahhhh!" I sighed when I caught hold of it, hard and erect and as warm as in my dreams. "There it is!"
"Don't yank this one off." Lyle joked. "I'm kind of attached to it."
"Don't worry." I assured him. "I'm going to take real good care of it."
"Yeah." he breathed huskily and his cock throbbed in my fingers. "You were going to suck on it, weren't you?"
"I sure am." I agreed and my only regret about that was that I had to let go of Lyle to get hold of it.
"Find out what it's like." Lyle grunted as I fought myself around. "Really go to town and find out what it's like. Yeah, that's it, go for it, do it!" This as I finally made it around to the general region of his prong, though that tossed my covers aside and mostly off onto the floor.
The general region, I said. "Scoot down for me, would you?" The bed was too small for much in the way of mattress gymnastics, if we were both going to be on it, and me suck his cock, he had to shift his body downwards.
"Oh, sure!" Lyle squirmed downwards and now that temple of his manhood was ready for my worshipful attentions. I had to shift some, lie kind of twisted, but now I could and did reach that big prong. Damn, I'd only glimpsed this thing now and then, and always flaccid, but my dreams had done it justice, this cock belonged on a god! And it was mine, all mine. I began to lick it at first, I knew enough about cocksucking to know that unless I had it lubed up, I wasn't going to be able to do it justice. Get some saliva on it and then I could snaffle it down.
I was licking it away when I felt it. Lyle's tongue. On my cock! My cock! I practically choked on my own spit, swallowed and gasped out, "What are you doing?"
"Finding out what it's like." Lyle said, as if he were answering a pre-schooler's question of what is two-plus-two. "You can do it, so can I."
And his tongue returned to lubing my shaft and I practically shot my wad just from the feel of that velvet shaft of manflesh stroking over my dong. I moaned and gave over any pretense of considered attentions. I wanted Lyle's prick in my mouth and I wanted it NOW!
I stuffed his prong down my mouth and throat and just held it there. Oh, God, it was so good, so fucking good! Feeling that maleness, feeling that raw virility, O Adam! O Apollo! O Krishna and Osiris! All of sexual delights, all happiness, all of paradise, was in Lyle's prick, and all I had to do was suck it out! I did suck, actual sucking at first, then I began to move back and forth, moving his cock in my throat but not releasing it, not ever. I kept this up until the raw lack of oxygen forced me to relinquish it, let it slide up and out of my throat and onto the threshold of my mouth, where my lips held the glans firmly in thrall still.
"Oh, yeeeeee-ahhhhhhh!" Lyle shuddered as I let him go. "Damn, that's good! Take a break and then get back to it. Meanwhile, it's my turn to give it a try."
Lyle's mouth as it slid over my prong was like liquid ecstasy, pouring over my cock like a sensual oil. When he hit the bottom of my seven-inch dong, he held it like I had done, and it was like he had submerged my entire body within his mouth. All of it, all of me, inside of him, and I never wanted this to end, ever!
Then Lyle began to move like I had done, small motions that kept me imbedded deep within him, but still stroked my shaft's skin up and down, and the result was like a lightning strike of raw passion driving through my body into my brain! "Oh, oh, God!" I gasped, though his cock in my mouth turned that into a mumble. That didn't matter, for the electricity racing through my body was converted into action, I began to suck Lyle again in earnest.
Lyle didn't wait until he was out of air like I had, when I began to suck him, he matched me in racing his lips up and down my rod. I couldn't tell where I ended and he began, it was like we were two halves of a whole, now rejoined into a new single entity, and every uncertainty and ambiguity in my life evaporated, a part of my former existence now vanished into the mists of time, sinking into oblivion like a rock into mostly clear but deep water, so that the outlines waver, mutate, fade out...and are gone.
In the timelessness of our lovemaking, an hour was the same as a minute, so I have no idea how long we kept up our mutual pleasure. I know only that I was wrapped up in Lyle and he in me, and in that new organization of motions, my delight grew and grew, from a seed to a sprout to a plant to full fruition.
And as my ecstasy grew, my soul floated above my body and I saw myself, only it wasn't myself, it was myself and Lyle, two bodies who became one, suffused with a glow that wasn't light, but that of joy incarnate. I basked in that glow and then returned to my body and that return was my orgasm.
My moans were matched by those of Lyle, he was also building up, his cock was warm, so warm, and his mouth was bobbing on my dong like mad, and as my ecstasy hit its crescendo, Lyle moaned one last time and he exploded into my mouth and that was orgasm in solid form, and with it, my own climax burst out of my every orifice. Ejaculation was somewhere within that mixture but only a part of it, my jizz was squirting and Lyle was gulping it down like I was drinking his own heady packets of spunk, and at that moment, I felt a kinship with Lyle that was more than friendship and more than roommates, and even more than lovers, we were now bound together permanently, no matter where we went or what we did. We would have this moment, no matter what.
So in that state of permanent bliss, I sucked the last dregs of Lyle's come from his prick and he suctioned me dry and we held like that for a time, and the moment was over, and we were just two guys in bed together once again.
But more than friends. Always more than friends.
I struggled to regain myself and then crawled back around to land myself into the warm curve of his arm and he put the other over me, and I slid my lower arm to under his body and the other over his and he touched his forehead to me.
"So, now you found out what it's like," he said, "what do you think?"
"I found out that sucking cock is pretty damned great!" I said emphatically. "In fact, now that I found out what it's like, I think I'm going to want to suck yours every night, and twice a day on weekends. What are you plans for spring break, we could rent a room and suck each other non-stop for the entire nine days. What do you think?"
Lyle gave a comfortable chuckle. "I think I've just found out how to stay happy for a hell of a long time."
"Me, too!" I agreed. No more bad dreams for me!
THE END
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