This story contains explicit sexual activity between men. Please read no further if you are offended by such or if you are a minor. Any resemblance to actual persons or activities depicted is purely coincidental, but actual places and events are mentioned to add a sense of reality to the story.
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SAM CALDWELL'S FURTHER ADVENTURES
by Macout Mann
Chapter 7
Like Being a Freshman Again
Sam finds a parking place near Win's dorm and decides to go up to his room rather than waiting for him to come down, as they had planned. Win is overjoyed to see him and they shake hands warmly.
Win's roommate, who is sitting at his desk, takes no notice of Sam's arrival, until Win introduces him.
"Ron," Win says, "I'd like you to meet an old family friend, Sam Caldwell."
"Good to meet you, Ron," Sam says.
Ron looks over his shoulder and says, "Hi."
There's a moment of silence, then Ron asks, "So what sort of work do you do?"
"I paint," Sam says.
"My dad's a general contractor. A lot of painters work for him."
"Sam's not that kind of painter." Win steps in. "He's a famous illustrator of books."
"Oh, another fairy racket," Ron sneers.
"You'd better watch your tongue, kid," Sam retorts. "I'm pretty tolerant, myself, but I know a couple of guys in New York that, if they heard you say that, would tear your balls off and stuff them down your fucking throat."
"Huh?!"
"Come on, Win. I've made reservations."
Sam tells Win that they are going to Pittypat's Porch. "It's an old restaurant," he says, "but a good one, and it has about anything you might want. We'll eat early, and then I'll show you my place."
Once they're in the car and headed down Peachtree, Sam asks, "So what's with your roomie?"
"I don't know." Win is obviously upset. "I already hate the son-of-a-bitch. He's from Houston. Thinks his shit don't stink. Goanna major in civil engineering. Asked me what I was goanna major in. Told him I hadn't decided. Then he asked me what sports I was into. Told him I was a gymnast. Oh,' he says, one of those gay boy sports. I played football in high school.' Fucking homophobe. You heard what he said to you."
"Don't let him get to you," Sam advises. "Just hang loose.
"First of all, you're goanna find that an awful lot of guys that are always putting down gays, are really fighting gay tendencies in themselves. Gotta prove that they're macho. Usually, the best thing to do is ignore them. Especially if you're as manly as you are.
"Or you can put them down too. Tease them about any girly traits they have. Or toss what they say back at them. Like if your roomie says gymnasts are gay, come back with `Yeah, just like the three football players that we caught fucking around in the locker room last year.'
"You know, I spent about three minutes with your roommate, but I'd lay odds his old man is one dominating son-of-a-bitch."
"Oh, you'd be right there," Win says. "He wanted to go to A&M, but his dad came to Tech and made Ron come here too."
"Another reason for his being a shit-ass," Sam says. "When he settles in, he may get over it. If he doesn't, you've only got nine months to put up with him.
"I guess you decided not to get involved with rush."
"Dad and I talked about it. I decided I could do without being in a frat."
"Well you make friends easily. Just do it. Go to the gym. Meet the gymnasts. You're a good swimmer. Hit the pool. Go to mixers. Be nice to the other folks in your dorm. In a couple of weeks you'll have more friends than you what to do with.
"As for your roomie. Let's get Jim and your brothers up here for a football game. Show him what a real family is like."
They arrive at the restaurant. Both choose the Savannah Crab Cakes. They chat some more about Ron, but mostly about what a wonderful year lay ahead for Win. And afterward they drive to the Habersham.
"Damn! You live here?" Winn says, as they enter Sam's apartment.
"Yeah, I live here, and I want you to feel like it's your home too."
"Nice view." Win was still overwhelmed.
"It's the tallest building for several blocks around, and this high up, I don't have to worry about anybody seeing what's going on inside," Sam announced.
"And that reminds me," Win says, "do you remember what we talked about the last time you were in Sparta."
"You still feel the same way?"
"You better believe it. I want your dick up my ass."
"Now?"
"Now."
Win has worn his first real suit for dinner with Sam. Sam is in a blue blazer with tan trousers. Sam leads Win into his bedroom.
"Don't want to mess up these fine threads," Sam says.
He carefully removes Win's jacket, tie, and dress shirt, folds them and lays them on the dresser. Then he drinks in the great looking torso of his pretend nephew. Winn instinctively does the same for him. Both bare to the waist, they embrace.
Sam is flooded with memories of being a freshman himself and giving himself to Win's father. He resists the temptation to kiss Win's mouth, but immediately tastes the younger man's pecs, tongues his ears, and grabs his ass cheeks through his worsted trousers.
Win responds by undoing Sam's belt and unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He cups Sam's hard tool and whispers, "I've so wanted to feel that beautiful thing." Then he overcomes Sam's reticence by kissing him full on the mouth.
Soon they are both naked, still exploring each other's bodies. Win has trimmed his pubes to about an inch, making his dick seem larger than it is. Although not as big as his partner's, its six-and-a-half inches is nothing to be ashamed of. Sam sinks to his knees and takes it into his mouth.
"Oh my god, yes...yes," Win moans.
In only a minute he spews his hot cream down Sam's throat, then pulls him to his feet, and goes down on him. Sam, however, soon interrupts Win's fellatio, leads him to the bed and begins to prepare his ass.
"You're sure you want this?" Sam again asks.
"Oh yes. Fuck me, man."
Sam lubes Win's ass and his own dick, rolls Win onto his back, raises his legs, and gently as he can slips the head of his prong past Win's virgin rosebud.
"Oooh," Win cries.
"Try to relax. The pain will go away soon."
A minute later Win mumbles, "Yes...fuck me, man."
Over the next several minutes Sam inches his bone further into Win's ass, until finally his pubes touch the freshman's cheeks.
Peering into Win's face, Sam asks, "Are you O.K.?"
"It feels so good. Pound my ass, man."
"If that's what you want. You're not a cherry boy anymore."
Sam slowly begins to pump his rod in an out of the tight hole it's lodged in. He tries to make Win's first experience one that he will remember always. The ecstatic expression on Win's face shows Sam that he is succeeding. And Sam also can't believe how wonderful the experience is making him himself feel. When he finally blows his wad, he buries his tongue in his partner's open mouth. Their rapture is complete.
Sam lets his dick go soft before pulling it from Win's hole. They lie side by side for several minutes before Sam speaks.
"Before I take you home, I want to sketch your face, while it's still glowing."
Sam leads Win, still naked, into his studio, has him stand in a triumphant pose, and begins to sketch his beatific face, residual sweat and all.
"I noticed that there was a big vacant space above your desk. It deserves to have an original Caldwell hanging there."
"You'll do that for me, Sam?"
"Yeah. It'll be like the one I did of your dad years ago."
"Shirtless like his?" Win exclaims.
"Oh, I could do that. Let the top of your jeans show. But that'd probably freak your roommate out something terrible. I think I'll put you in a singlet, like you've just finished a pommel horse routine. Remind him of his gay sport comment."
"You're mean," Win laughs.
Before they get back into their clothes, they again taste each other. Sam suggests they get together Friday night, but Win says he wants to take Sam's advice and go to a mixer. So they agree to get together again Monday evening, "unless you get a better offer," Sam says.