Response Team Prequel. Years Earlier.
By: Boris B. Chen. Copyright 2022, All rights reserved. Written for Nifty.org.
What's this book about?
Response Team Prequel was written in response to emails from readers. The original book titled Response Team' is available on nifty.org in the: gay/adult friends' section and eventually on amazon with a similar name.
The original version had two endings, read one or both. The endings were very different. Many readers wanted to read more about the lives of two young gay men so I decided to write a prequel. These books will eventually arrive on Amazon as an ebook download, like most of my books will eventually end up there, although it appears Amazon may be suppressing search results for my name. You may have to try different search terms to find me, email me if you need a link. Some people have to search for the book title, others find me by searching for my first and last name. Sometimes it helps to search on amazon for things in quote marks like: "Boris Chen" that trick works on most search engines.
Rapid Response Team is about two young men that worked for the Department of Defense (DOD). They met in college and fell in love and got married hours before starting US Navy Seal School at Great Lakes Naval Training Center.
They became part of an elite para-military police service designed and equipped for disrupting acts of terror or significant crime before civilians were killed or property damaged. Their unit was called a Rapid Response Team and their territory was most of the USA west of the Mississippi River.
Very few people knew this type of unit existed inside the USA as a result of 9/11. This book is about one of those teams, the only one staffed by two well educated masculine gay men.
They utilized highly advanced weapons to defeat terrorists (or criminals) and their plans. After each mission they returned to their quiet lives in suburban Texas waiting for the next alert. Their existence and operation was never publically discussed by the DOD. They never received credit for successful operations but often collected cash rewards and bounties.
Their jobs were very dangerous and stressful which caused them to regularly contemplate leaving the DOD and starting new lives, but the large cash rewards they received kept them going.
Characters:
David Larsen: 29 years old, born in Texas City (1991), Texas. David earned a Masters Degree in Electrical Engineering and graduated with the 2011 Navy Seal class, the first to complete the course as a civilian. He is a masculine gay man in top physical condition. 5'11" 158 lbs. Black/black. David is outgoing and friendly but always cautious around strangers. His interests included: NFL football, ATV riding, camping, outdoors, music, running, miniature golf, and gardening. One of his goals in life was to write the ultimate book on mini-golf course design. Many people said David closely resembled youtube pop celeb and singer Ricky Garcia.
Ryan Malone (Narrator): 30 years old, born in (1990) south Houston (Pearland), Texas. Ryan earned a Masters Degree in Electrical Engineering then graduated from Navy Seal School in 2011, second civilian to complete the course. He was a masculine gay man in excellent physical condition. 5'10" 141 lbs. Brown/blue. Ryan was quiet and fun loving and liked being outdoors. Interests: NFL football, photography, drone stunt flying, running, music, camping, and cooking. Friends told Ryan he resembled German actor David Kross (in the 2008 movie The Reader). They said he shrank back down to his original size two years after Seal School.
Notice to readers:
This book contains graphic descriptions of sex acts between adult men. There are also descriptions of suspected bad guys dying, some of which may be violent. Everything in this book is fictional. None of the characters, locations, events, and people ever existed. This story is 100% fiction.
Readers are encouraged to contact the author with reports of: continuity errors, punctuation mistakes, grammar, typoes, etc. are always appreciated. ;-) borischenaz gmail Your email address will not be stored or shared. I will reply and your address and original email will be deleted.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent publisher.
The rights of the author have been applied hereon.
Chapter 1.
Law enforcement types often asked us how we got started doing such a dangerous job. I told them we got here slowly, one step at a time, almost three years of small steps. Even though I didn't care for excessive violence in movies I understood I might actually be in situations like them as part of my job.
We often had a chance to talk to local police when we arrived at situations they couldn't control. They were always curious about our tactics and equipment, especially the rare few that saw our equipment in use because they never had technology like ours and probably never would.
Even though we've killed many bad guys it was seldom bloody or violent, their demise always came quickly and humanely. But we never killed people that didn't pose a serious threat to local civilians. If the perp shot at us or tried to kill us that generally meant they would be cooling off in a body bag within the hour. When we arrived it was always game-over for the bad guys.
Back to the beginning of our story, the first time I saw David was in Algebra class on our very first day of college, he sat two rows in front of me, my eyes were drawn to him. His shape and size were similar to me but he looked mixed race. People said he looked a lot like former pre-teen heartthrob Ricky Garcia.
During our first semester we had two classes together at the University of Texas at Austin (Algebra and English Composition). We both took two remedial classes because we got lazy in high school. We both coasted through high school but paid the price in college after unimpressive results on entrance exams. The university said we would not succeed at UTA without proficiency in algebra and English Composition.
My very first day of classes at UTA I found the correct building, floor, and classroom. I stood in the hallway watching people walk in the room and his body caught my eye. So I sat a couple rows behind him so he would always be between my eyes and the chalkboards. I watched who he talked to and tried to hear everything he said. His subtle hand movements and mannerisms tipped me off that he might be a fellow sodomist but I had to be extremely cautious because I had limited experience with asking a boy out for a gay play date. If I asked and he wasn't on Team Rainbow it could cause serious problems in my life. I could invite him to go with me to do something heteroish, like bowling (Frisbee, softball, target shooting, fishing, 1x1 basketball, etc.), but I'm no good at most hetero guy stuff. And since I'm new to Austin I got no idea where anything was except the bookstore, my classes, Roberts Hall, and the cafeterias. And worst of all, I arrived with a bicycle instead of a car.
We had Algebra twice each week and English Comp too. I stayed in the hallway and watched him walk and closely examined the shape of his butt and the rest of his body, thank God for sunglasses! The clothes he wore gave him an understated beauty but I could see his shape and was mesmerized by it. I nearly became obsessed with this guy I knew nothing about. As the professor called attendance and he said `HERE!' I quietly wrote his name in tiny letters on my notepad. (Larsen, David) I managed to usually be within thirty feet of him, especially during class breaks when everyone went to the bathroom then outside to smoke. He glanced at me a few times and smiled but never spoke, I always smiled back and nodded too. So far he was a big nothing with a killer body, what a waste. All that natural beauty and no admirers.
Back in the dorm I immediately did searches on Insta, FB, Twitter, YT, and google for his name but didn't find much. No nude photos, no beach photos, no shots of him standing and waving on a Pride parade float in San Francisco.
He finally noticed me during week #2, always behind him and always smiling, eventually we had our first conversations (during a bathroom break) in the hallway outside the classroom. Like me, David had no obvious gay accent, but we both had mild south Texas accents, that told him right away we were from the same area, probably had lots in common. He said he was from Texas City, which was thirty miles south of Houston so his Texan sounded like mine. We both said y'all and pronounced it: Youstin, instead of Houston.
To Texans, the H in Houston was silent, and it's strictly enforced too. I never told people I was from Pearland, I always boasted that I was `...from South Youstin, we had more BBQ joints than cops!' A few times I thought I heard a slight hiss in his esses, maybe a minor metrosexual accent, but he was gorgeous so a slight hiss was expected. From my experience the more beautiful you were in the face the less beauty you had below the neck, but I still scanned his body every time I could get away with staring. Thank God for sunglasses!
At first we agreed to study together in the library for our first algebra quiz. During our first study session we discovered we lived on different floors of the same dorm (Roberts Hall which was two blocks west of the stadium), and we were both poor and very geeky and into technology and computers. We were both into electronics, and both working towards the same degree.
One of the most impressive things a student could build back then was a nice stereo amplifier. It was considered a rite of passage for guys on our degree path. We both built our first stereo amps from kits and did it together. The power transformers were heavy and expensive and so were the nicer looking cases that were big enough for the 100w heat sinks. I mean a one hundred watt amplifier created a lot of heat. Wattage was not a measure of loudness, it's a measure of heat displacement, how much work it could handle, and the heat it created in the process. If wattage was a measure of loudness then a 100 watt light bulb should get louder than a 60 watt audio amplifier!
I closely watched his hands as he soldered parts to the board and trimmed the leads, always careful to install capacitors and diodes the correct direction, and double checked everything. His finger nails were trimmed short and he had no visible tattoos or piercings. Hovering over him while he carefully installed parts gave me little peeks down his shirt so I could see if he had hairs on his chest or if his nipples were big or small. I pretty much had his entire body mapped out long before I actually saw it.
And watching him solder gave me time to watch his hands work and gave me a preview into how much dick he packed inside his tighty-whities. My gaydar scans told me he was bigger than me, probably a bit over six inches long. Sometimes I saw the faint outline of his dick hung down his jeans leg an inch or two, but I didn't think he knew it was visible and it was too risky to say anything. The first time I went to his dorm room when he ran to the bathroom I checked his shoes to see what size he wore: 13 wide. That was a good sign but not always an accurate predictor.
I jerked off every night with fantasies about meeting him somewhere secluded and letting me do anything I wanted to his body. Jerking off in bed in a dorm room with a roomie only ten feet away was tricky, you had to do it silently without making the bed frame squeak, I came in my underwear but couldn't clean it up. Eventually I started jerking off silently inside my socks, which was what I thought most dorm dicks did.
But one night (Friday Nov 6th) in our first semester we actually got the chance to sneak off campus in his clunker of a car. We drove south to the highway then west towards Dripping Springs Texas. Along the highway sat what looked like a partially built five story office tower hidden in the trees, I heard it was a good place to hide out because nobody went there after some guy fell off the fifth floor last year.
The building was a skeleton, concrete floors and bare steel I-beams that looked like construction halted years ago and it was just sitting there un-touched. Since the building was wide open it probably wasn't home to homeless drifters, if either of us had money we could have paid for a hotel room instead. There were places in Austin ideal for a quickie in a motel room, but that was not in my budget. Asking another guy to drive to a pay-by-the hour motel to drink beers would sound awfully suspicious. I think there actually was a place in Austin like that called Dick's Motel, at the corner of 69th Ave. and Broadway.
Our first meeting was planned without any mention of sex, just drinking some beers and getting out of Austin for a few hours. We met at his dorm room and walked to his car in the student parking garage. I met his roommate too, a guy I think was 6'7" and 300 pounds. I was thrilled David agreed to spend the evening with me instead of some hard body campus football jock. As beautiful as he was Dave could probably have had almost any guy or girl he wanted.
I recalled our conversation and the actual evening:
"What you doin Friday?" He asked while we stood outside with the smokers during a 15 minute class break.
"Me? Nuthin. Reading, maybe go fer a run. You?" I replied.
"I don't know `bout y'all but I need a cold beer, this place is wearin me down." He replied.
"What you thinkin?"
"Go somewhere there ain't no campus police, drink some beers, and chill out."
"That sounds great, I'll get the beer, I know a place where they never card." I was astounded that he asked me to go do something with him. He replied with, "Yeah, I know a place too."
So there we were in his car driving west on `Texas Highway-290' and turned off onto Scenic Brook Drive. He seemed to know where we were going because I sure didn't.
We talked a little during the drive, first we drove south and then west but I was more interested in talking than watching the traffic. He told me about his roommate, the football jock he said was stupid and talked like an Okie that dropped out of school after flunking third grade. He claimed the only class his roomie actually took was finger painting (fine arts @ 14 credit hours), the rest of his time was football practice.
Over in the trees stood our destination, with a plastic perimeter fence part-way around it, the entire area was dark and completely overgrown. We drove down dirt trail back into the woods and parked then got out and walked 200 feet in the dark to the structure. The entire property looked like Mother Nature successfully repossessed it.
In algebra I always sat behind him so I followed behind him through the woods too, he seemed to know where we were going.
We walked through a wide gap in the orange plastic snow drift fence and up onto the lowest concrete floor. He suggested we go to the third floor so we could see his car, we walked across the first floor to the stairs and ascended the wide concrete steps to the third floor, if anyone approached we'd see them long before they saw us. I brought a 12pk of Coors and David said he had some weed and a pipe, I asked him not to smoke it yet so we worked on the beers.
The stairwells had thick concrete walls, but no railings. We walked up three landings and out onto the vast emptiness of the third floor. The first thing that caught my eye was the fantastic view, up here we were above the trees and it looked like we could see forty miles in every direction. Even at night it was a beautiful scene, almost looked like Christmas lights.
We made a big u-turn and sat on the dusty concrete floor and leaned back against the rock hard wall. I opened the 12 pack of Coors and dug out two cans, then we sat there and talked in the humid night air. The biggest sounds up on that floor were crickets and an occasional car or semi on the highway, luckily there was a steady breeze. We sat side by side with the beers between us and talked about school and our professors. Our schedules were nearly identical but we only had two classes together. He seemed to calm down after his first beer was empty. The concrete floor still felt warm from the sun. Far in the distance to the south we saw flashes of lightning and some clouds.
At the time both of us were 19 years old and in great shape. Looking back on that night I think our lives might have turned out different if one of had the balls to simply say, "Whaddya say we stop talkin and start fuckin." We both felt the need to establish some feel for each other's sexuality before we made physical contact, I think it was implanted in our brains during our suburban childhoods. The million dollar question being: You Gay? And the optimal answer being, "Is the Pope Catholic?" Instead, we wasted valuable time discussing high school girls and sex (or not). After our first cans of liquid courage we confessed more and learned we had tons of stuff in common. After girls we talked about NFL and the Houston Texans, he liked the Cowboys despite living near Houston. David said he always called it the NFE instead, just like WWE because they were both scripted.
Eventually the conversation went back to sex. As the alcohol effect increased he used the phrase "well suck my dick" more and more.
We learned neither of us were religious and were thrilled to be away from our `f-ing parents' but hated the lack of privacy and all the stupid rules on campus. Finally Dave violated the Straight Guy Code by mentioning jerking off and how some chick he dated just could not master the fine art... I told him it sounded like she didn't wanna do it.
He described in detail the (alleged) steps he took trying to teach her to rub his rod. But I think his actual goal was to describe to me exactly how his dick looked and worked, maybe he was teasing me, trying to get me drunk and horny. If that was his strategy it worked, I got hard just listening and his constant use of his phrase: well suck my dick,' when most guys would have said something like: well I'll be!' Or like we said at my high school: `Well I'll be dipped in shit,' or: "Well I'll be dipped."
He used his hands to demonstrate how long he was and how his head was shaped and how big his nuts were. He described trimming his pubes and how carefully he washed his particles anytime he went out when sex was possible. And one of the giveaways was when he said he used alcohol and dick talk to improve the odds. "I like to get my friends nice and horny before we touch." Then he went on about himself.
"I ain't built weird, y'know. I'm like seven inches and it's not curved or nuthin, it's just a regular old cut dick. I mean how hard can it be to grab hold and slide yer fist up and down. But no, she could not do it!" I told him it sounded like she wanted dick in her pussy instead of her hand, he responded with, "Well that might be true too." I asked why he didn't just fuck her and be done with it and he said she was kind of a dead fuck and he liked being blown or jerked off most of all. So I told him that a lot of girls don't care for those, especially unanticipated semen in the mouth.
After a few moments of quiet he said, "I guess if you want real good dick service you gotta find a guy to do it."
"Yep, I agree, women feel the same way. Just watch two women go at it and you see they have their own way of touching." I replied.
"Amen to that." After a few seconds he continued, "Y'all been blown by a dude?" He asked and turned to look at me. I felt his eyes rushing up and down my entire body and smelled his beer breath as he spoke.
There came a moment during our rude crude guy talk that I realized I was all tensed up, so I took a moment to order my body to relax, I leaned more into the wall behind me, lowered my shoulders, sighed, lowered my voice and chilled out, just like he said he wanted to do here. I looked around the third floor and decided I was having a great time and I enjoyed being with David, then I snapped back into the present and answered his question.
"Uhhh blow job, ummm yes, at a party last spring, I've never told anyone that before. You?" I asked hoping I could finally get to taste him. My hunger for his flesh nearly overwhelmed my self control. The alcohol certainly wasn't helping.
"Yep last year I let a buddy suck it while we was fishin, he swore he wasn't gay, but he swallowed like a pro. Hell, everone that's ate some wanted seconds." He chuckled at his joke while I was at war in my brain.
"Huh, musta felt nice." I answered wishing he'd stop talking and guzzle another beer so he'd say shit he'd never say sober.
"You ever go out with a dude?" He asked but I knew it wasn't the question he really wanted to ask but like me was afraid to say the G-word.
"You mean like us now?" I asked wondering if what we were doing innocently drinking beers (underage) in an abandoned building was like a date with a guy.
"Yeah like right now." He proudly proclaimed with an excited tone.
"Well yes, I've been out with the guys drinking beers buncha times."
"But no girls?" He snuck in a trick question. At the risk of revealing more secret info I just said, "Not since Labor Day."
"You out?" He asked without looking at me.
"Me? Fuck no!" I replied loudly, then I realized I sort of admitted it to him without saying the word. I followed that up with, "You?"
"At home -- no way, here -- slightly, but as of sunrise today I ain't met nobody. I ain't sure about tonight yet." The moment he said that I had the gut feeling something was gonna happen, I just wished he'd be slightly aggressive because I was afraid to make the first move. In my mind I started silently chanting: Grab me, grab me, grab me...
I just laughed and smashed my empty beer can and opened #2.
I noticed as we talked that he was reaching down and doing something to his crotch frequently, like maybe it was bent over or itchy. I wanted to say something but decided not to.
He was about half a beer ahead of me, and already getting louder. Every once in a while he slapped my thigh then cracked his knuckles and drank more beer. Hurray! I pulled another can from the box and opened it and set it beside him.
I was feeling it too and started laughing at almost every wisecrack he made, too bad I didn't know any dick sucking jokes. He told several but none of them were as funny as he thought.
I tried one: "What do you call a group of homosexual Lions?" He stared at me briefly then asked, "What?"... "Gay Pride." He sort of smiled and snorted out his nose then changed the subject.
We talked about music and plans for finding jobs off campus. He talked about sports in high school, said he was also a good arm wrestler and wanted to wrestle me, so I agreed (knowing I'd deliberately lose, especially if he declared: loser blows the winner). We got on our stomachs facing each other and put one elbow on the floor, tightly gripped hands and held the others (it was the first time we touched each other) and he shouted GO, and within ten seconds he had the back of my hand on the floor and he was really amped up and excited, he got to his feet and bent over in a wrestling stance and sort of yelled at me to get up, so I set down my beer and stood up.
We were about five feet apart, hunched over with our arms outstretched as we sized up each other and got ready to lunge forward. I asked him, "Why are there no gay traffic lights?" He shrugged his shoulder so I told him, "They can't change, even if they try."
Dave said, "Ha ha ha, that was so funny." Then he lunged at me and literally lifted me off the floor then gently set me down which was when the grab assing really got going. We tried to flip each other on our backs for a few minutes. About ten seconds after grab ass started I was 100% erect and dripping in my undies, I assumed he was too but it was too dark to see.
That was really the first time we touched more than just hands, but the wrestling thing got us into some pretty intimate positions, I mean lots of wrestling moves looked pretty gay to me. And wrestlers with boners were a common sight that nobody talked about. He smashed my face against his body several times which really turned me on too.
When wrestling it's almost impossible not to run your arm between the other guy's legs, which means your hand or arm was guaranteed to rub his dick and balls eventually, and that's exactly what happened. The first time he grabbed me I flinched and he yanked his arm back then pulled my thigh towards my chest instead. When I tried to grab his leg I nearly smacked his groin but he never reacted when I goosed him. In wrestling it's acceptable to `accidentally' grab crotches. I could tell he was trying to grab my head between his thighs to put my face at his balls but I got free each time.
In all honesty if he'd taken off his shirt during our match things would have turned out very different but neither of us did. I wanted to gently rub my face side to side across his bare tummy and lick his flesh and smell his body.
Our match lasted about three minutes then Dave got me in another hold and pressed my shoulder blades to the floor and shouted PINNED. He released my body and smacked the floor with his hand, I was on my back with an obvious ridge in my jeans. Dave was on his knees beside me and laughed then he reached down and squeezed it and asked me if I always carried salami in my underwear, I was too embarrassed to answer so I pretended I didn't care. As dark as it was neither of us could see much, he'd already busted me so there was no sense in hiding, I stayed on my back and he stepped closer and leaned over my face and asked if I was alright because I got quiet after being embarrassed. At first I thought he was going to grab it again but he didn't.
"I gotta pee."
"Me too, c'mon let's find the men's room."
He looked around, stood up, offered his hand, and yanked me to my feet. I caught a glimpse of his lower belly as I got up, it looked like he had a big bulge in his jeans too. We walked about 100 feet across the bare concrete floor to the edge of the building on the side that was surrounded by trees. This floor had a thick steel cable that ran from beam to beam so people didn't walk off the edge and die.
We got to the edge, he reached down and unzipped his pants. Of course it's not easy to pull a boner out through a zipper opening. I just undid my jeans and let it drop (put my hands on the steel cable) and stared at the night sky, Dave was near me doing the same thing. We were high enough in the air that it took a while for our piss to hit the ground. We both had huge loads to drain.
I sort of glanced down at mine poking out like a flagpole, then over at his but it was too dark to see much detail, then to my surprise he turned slightly so our streams crossed and displayed his, that time I looked down without hiding my curiosity. His was pointed up and out. David stared at me and smiled with sort of an evil grin while I was clearly admiring his flagpole.
"Nice boner." I mumbled. His looked a little longer than mine.
He stopped peeing and reached in his pocket and pulled out a lighter and lit it beside my dick so he could look at mine too, "Nice fishin pole," was his comment. He put his lighter away and resumed pissing into the night air.
I thought it was kinda odd that he spent the last hour saying `well suck my dick' over and over but as soon as we stood side by side with our peckers hung out pissing into the air he suddenly stopped. And that's the reason why I hadn't touched him so far -- mixed signals. I was trying hard not to send him any signals other than my willingness to go along with what he said.
After we were done shaking and squeezing the last drops we stood there looking around from nearly fifty feet above the ground, we were just above the tree tops so we could see cell tower lights and airplanes crossing the sky.
I knew something was about to happen since we both stood there in the dark with our dicks hangin' out, I wished time would stop.
Finally, he pulled up his underwear (but left his pants open) then grabbed my arm to turn me around, but let go right away. I pulled my underwear up too but left my jeans wide open as we crossed the bare concrete floor.
We walked back by our stuff we sat down again, but both of us had our pants open as we grabbed our next beers. On the way back he asked me if I had any more dorky gay jokes and I told him I ran out. "We're saved!" he joked loudly shaking his hands towards the heavens.
After he took some big swigs off his beer he reached down his underwear to re-position his aching boner.
"Damn, this thing hurts it's so hard. I don't think it's ever felt this thick before. Feel this!" He insisted loudly.
I never spoke and finished taking swigs from my beer and set it down, he was watching me closely. I reached over but stopped and looked him square in his eyes. David said, "No, I'm serious it feels like granite." I reached my hand over slowly until my fingertips barely touched it and kind of lightly tapped it along the top side, then he ordered, "Squeeze it, tell me if it feels normal." After a couple seconds I carefully wrapped my fingers around his (still in his underwear) and squeezed gently a few times then let go.
"Yeah, maybe. It does feel pretty stiff, I bet it hurts."
"Man, don't freak out, it don't bite much!" He grabbed my hand and set it back on his dick (outside his undies), holding my wrist he slid it up and down.
To surprise him I jerked my hand back but gently set it on his belly button then carefully slid it behind his underwear waistband and held him directly, and as soon as I did that I felt his hips start to buck like he was micro humping my fist.
David sort of tightened up and closed his eyes and humped my hand. I slid my other hand down my underwear and gripped mine too and micro stroked myself, slid my thumb across my head which was already totally lubed with salty precome.
Much to his surprise and mine I turned my body so my right side was down, my right hand was down my pants and my left hand was around his. Dave reached down and slid his jeans a few inches lower then pulled his shirt up to his arm pits. When I looked up he was staring at me with a confident smile of pleasure on his face.
"I guess that answered tonight's big question," he said and rubbed his sexy upper body slowly. He massaged his big flat tit and closed his eyes and humped my hand faster.
"Oh fuck! I'm gunna come!" he warned. Then he humped even harder a few times, his hips lifted off the floor, and shot semen across his stomach, about five long squirts then slowed to a drip. He got a really nice broad smile on his face and opened his eyes and looked at the mess on his hairless belly. His hand that was rubbing his tit now grabbed some semen and stuck it in his mouth and slurped it clean like sucking pasta off the plate. Then he smiled at me again. Dave had a very sexy broad smile when he wanted to.
By now my own stroking was faster and I was getting closer to my own climax. He sat up and turned to watch me, then got up on his knees and wiggled down my jeans to my thighs and leaned over and kissed my balls and rubbed his face in `em, which sent me over the top, I aimed at the 12 pack of beer between us and shot three long ropes of silvery jizz and hit the Coors box, we both heard it hit the cardboard. He laughed and smiled at me while I panted and cooled off.
David reached over and picked it up, my boner was already going away but he lifted it and slipped it inside his mouth and cleaned off the remaining semen then let it go and got to his feet. As he stood up he fixed his jeans and let his t-shirt drop over his gooey stomach, he offered a hand and helped me up, then I lowered my shirt and closed my jeans too.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the `men's room' again but let go right away. During our short walk I realized he just ate about five drops of my semen.
We both peed again but this time I held onto the steel cable and looked down the entire time, but this time I watched our pee streams fall into the darkness and disappear, except for the faint sound of splattering on the weeds and rocks.
When he was done he stepped closer and patted my back and asked if I was okay, I smiled at him and nodded yes. My eyes shifted around and looked across the entire third floor. Not too far away was a section of wall along the outside of the building, I walked towards it and gestured for him to follow. I stopped where there was more light from a billboard sign by the highway and moved him up against the wall there.
I reached down and grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it off over his head and loosened his jeans, undid them and spread `em wide and slid them down to his thighs. I put my hands on his shoulders and rubbed his tight muscular body all over, from his upper arms, over his collar bones, across his chest, up and down his sides to feel his ribs, across his stomach then down to his dick and held it firmly and rubbed the head with my thumb. In the light I could sort of see color in his skin and redness in his wide flat tits.
I lowered to my knees and rubbed my face against his boy parts and rocked my head side to side and inhaled deeply, then I took him in my mouth and worked it for his maximum pleasure. He slid his fingers into my hair and l pressed him back against the wall and hummed softly. I sucked him for about five minutes then raised a little and licked out his belly button then up to his chest where I lip locked on his wide flat tits and sucked them inside my mouth and licked the teats in the center. He put one hand on the back of my head and pressed my face firmly into his chest, then I pulled off because I was sucking his tit hard enough to give him a hickey, so I stopped. I gently kissed him on the corner of the mouth then stepped back and thanked him. David laughed and told me I could suck his dick any time I wanted.
I slid my hand across his chest again and admired his two flat and perfectly round nipples. They were way bigger than normal for a man, in fact they were wide enough to look normal on any woman. I wished they weren't flat but big was cool and the red flesh was silky soft, probably the softest flesh on his body. In the darkness they reminded me of round drink coasters at the bar.
We both pulled up our pants, I handed him his shirt. He gestured for me to follow him. We walked back down the stairs and back down the dirt path through the tall weeds to his car and drove back to campus. I watched for cops since we were both underage and intoxicated, but Dave drove just fine. Traffic was very thin, we hit almost every light green. I never asked about his tiny baggie of pot but I'm glad we never smoked.
On the ride back I secretly raised my hand to my face to sniff it several times. My hand smelled like his dick and tasted like semen. If he'd asked me I would have gladly blown him all the way back to the student parking garage on campus, even if it meant walking back in the dorm with semen smeared on the side of my face, in my hair, and eyebrows too.
So that was how our relationship started as best as I can recall. That was what happened the night I kissed him for the first time.
One weird thing about us was we both liked oral sex and being jerked off, so it was a long time until we had butt sex, and that day was another interesting story I'll tell you soon, us at the dairy farm. The day we fucked in front of Brad, and we got paid twelve bucks an hour too.
According to my rules when someone sucked your dick implied trust and a willingness to share your private parts, which meant something important to me. We crossed lines that night, at least as far as I was concerned. He seemed to be a guy (like me) that didn't drop his pants for anyone that asked. But that evening was when our relationship actually started and it got off to a great start. Over time we had more secret gatherings in the dark, but we found better places like the back seat of his car in the student parking garage near the dorms at 11pm.
We even discovered putting a sleeping bag on the parking garage floor behind his car, which gave us more air and more space but we had to be very quiet. I actually enjoyed the intimacy of sharing our bodies in his back seat. Getting naked and hard and pulling off my shorts and offering him my boner was the greatest and most intimate gift I could offer, and I meant it too. Since he was beautiful and knew it I thought sometimes he felt his presence was his greatest gift but I wanted his flesh and his dick in my mouth. To really know a man you need to taste his semen.
Sometimes we'd sit in his back seat and he'd produce pre-come for a couple hours while we talked and I ate every drop.
The semesters went by and we slowly became a common sight together, it was obvious to our classmates (most of them were also nerdy boys) that we were a couple, but we never discussed us with anyone and rarely spoke to each other (and seldom made eye contact) during class. We also conserved semen so our next orgasms came even faster and with lots more volume. We discovered a small taste difference between his semen and mine so we could tell them apart in the dark.
One weekend his roomie had to drive home to San Antonio for some family emergency so we spent that Saturday night in his bed. I think I tasted almost every inch of his body that night. Around 1am his dorm hallway was a ghost town so we went to the showers and I got on my knees and licked his freshly scrubbed butt hole for about three minutes, he was hard and after I stopped he turned around and jerked off with his head between my lips.
During the two (6-week) summer semesters there were several families that moved to Austin from India and suddenly we had new dorm-mates our age that were born/raised in southern India and spoke great English but had those classic British colonial Indian accents that many people made fun of.
I met one of them outside when he came back to the dorm from his daily run, it was warm out and he ran with no shirt on. His body was amazing and was perfectly shaped too. He had a nice deep wide hole for a belly button and large flat and wide nipples like Dave, big enough to look normal on a woman's chest. I couldn't stop staring and he saw me staring at him so he ran to me and stopped but panted hard for a minute before he could talk. I offered him my water but he waved me off.
We talked outside about stuff for a while then he left but I think I blew my cover with him too. I had no way of knowing if he was gay or not. I thought he was probably Hindu (because of a small gold Shiva pendant on his thin gold necklace) and I thought gay Hindu men were extremely rare. His skin was so dark it was difficult to see some of his facial and body features, but his teeth were bright white and so were the whites of his eyes. He said his name was Keneesh but I couldn't even tell if he'd shaved or not because his skin was so dark! He was very friendly and laughed easily, maybe he was a little lonely too. I loved his voice and he seemed super friendly. We swapped cell phone numbers because most of us would end up in the same lab classes and we'd need to be able to work together to achieve our goals of a masters of EE. One of the first things people told each other here was their major, we all said Double-E.' One guy kept calling it: Cheeseburger,' which caught on. I offered another meaning for his use of that word since it had four E's what he meant was him and his boyfriend were working on their Double E's together.
David and I kept our thing quiet and during the first summer semester we signed up for the little known UT Buddy Program (listed in the student handbook) so we'd have matching class schedules for the rest of our undergraduate time. After that summer we even got our dorm rooms assigned together. Asking for that benefit meant we had to deny (if asked) any serious relationship between us. And we could never let the RAs catch us fucking. We could have had rooms on the same floor in the dorm but being roomies was sort of good and sort of not good. I think it helped us focus on school knowing we could share the work and help each other with the hard assignments.
We spent many evenings together in his dorm room, doing the same homework assignments and sharing our class notes. Sometimes we'd sat on our beds with our backs against the wall, and drilled each other for a test the next day. I felt that single thing, studying together for tests was the greatest thing we did for each other and I think helped us maintain better grades with less work and less worry and anxiety. But it also meant I was very afraid of losing him, which forced me to be much more aware of how I talked to him.
Sometimes while he was reading out loud for us I'd shine my laser pointer at his nipple and make it light up like huge glowing red ornament. He said I was far from the first guy to be fascinated by his tits but I was the first to zap them with laser photons. During our first year I told him his body looked nearly identical to preteen-girl heartthrob Ricky Garcia, but their faces were somewhat different. I asked Dave what races he was and he mumbled something but I didn't want to ask him to repeat it, but I think he said he was one quarter Indian, and you could see it in his face, his hair, and his skin color. When he said what tribe his grandmother was it was a weird name I never heard before and he mumbled it.
Do an image search online for ricky garcia shirtless' if you want to see what Dave looked like in college and his early twenties. And do an image search for david kross shirtless' to see what I looked like in college too, look for the photo of Kross at a swimming party with a tall green wooden dive platform in the background. There are also good images of him from the movie The Reader where he got naked with Kate Winslet several times.
By the time we got to the end of our second summer semester (late September) we'd done more stuff together but still hadn't fucked. Not too long after our date in the office building we agreed not see other guys. I admitted I flirted with that guy from India and he said that was fine as long as I shared him, but my ass belonged to him only.
We didn't have a reason for not fucking, we were so busy with school we just never got around to it, plus we were more than satisfied with oral sex since we did it the right way.
Our thing was pretty low key for most of our four years at UTA, we earned our bachelor degrees and kept working towards the Master's degree in EE (aka: the cheeseburger). Two more years for graduate studies and a ton of hours and sleepless nights and we were ready to graduate and get the hell out of Austin. I was getting tired of Austin and all the hipsters and lesbians that seemed to be attracted to the city. We learned to stay out of all the lesbian owned stores because they hated boys. We called all the militant lesbian chicks Karen just to piss them off. And Austin really sucked around SxSW, the annual hipster self-love festival in the second week of March, which was also the week before mid-terms. SxSW was just one more reason to leave Austin once we were done with school.
Contact the author: borischenaz gmail