SCHOLARSHIP APPLICATION
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
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[In July of 1993, the prestigious research journal Science published a study by Dean Hamer which claims that there might be a gene for homosexuality. Dean Hamer's study targeted the q28 marker on the X chromosome. It found the same variants on 33 of the 40 sets of homosexual brothers. From that, Hamer concluded that some male homosexuality was influenced by gene Xq28. By no means the only factor in homosexuality, it nonetheless pointed the way for things to come. Gay men were born gay, not created that way. That wasn't totally true, as it turned out, but....
The Human Genome Project (HGP), a project coordinated by the U.S. Department of Energy and the National Institutes of Health, completed mapping the human genome in 2003.
In the year 2012, the entire human DNA map was charted, with all genes assigned their roles in human health, abilities...and behavior.
By the year 2020, it was possible for all children to be similarly genetically mapped in the womb, and for any unwanted genetic traits to be eliminated without harm to the fetus. When it came to the question of the genes responsible for homosexual proclivities, a parent almost inevitably chose the modifications. The procedure became so common that, within a decade, as with circumcision in the USA, a parent had to deliberately opt to not have the procedure done.
No gay men were being born any longer. It wasn't until the vast majority of holders of the gay genes were gone that it was discovered these same genes were the primary spur to creativity (whether their holder was gay or not!). All music, all art, all beauty and entertainment, foundered in the vacuum that had been created by the loss. Human civilization slowed, stagnated, became more static and stale.
By the year 2100, things had become critical. Something had to be done. A single straw of hope remained...genes weren't the only factor in determining gayness. There were the others, a much smaller pool, of gay men who became gay by the circumstances of their upbringing and background and that indefinable thing called "choice." With this choice came the creativity that the human race now desperately needed. If these gay men could be found, their talents nurtured and brought to full fruition, the world might yet not be lost. Programs were instituted to bring these young gay men to the forefront of human innovation through the use of scholarships and grants. Of course, with any such program, it was necessary to make sure only qualified applicants received them....]
I adjusted my portfolio on my lap nervously, a few of the prints inside were too large to let me fasten the thing properly, they stuck out and kept sliding over each other, trying to fall out. I shuffled them back to square and looked at the front door of the reception area again. Where the fuck was Brett?
Across the way, another guy was waiting with his own bundle of artworks. In his case, he appeared to have brought a half-dozen small figurines, each packed in a small box. He looked at me and smiled. "You here for the scholarship review, too?"
"Yeah." I said.
"You by yourself, or...."
"No, my...my lover Brett is supposed to be here." I said. I looked at the door again, at the watch. Another quarter hour and my interview would begin. "He's late."
"Oh." A pause. Then. "I'm a solitary." he ventured. "If you'd like, you and me can go in together. You know." He smiled shyly.
I smiled back. "Maybe." I said. "But honest, Brett and I are...we're together. We both want to go to this university." And if I got the scholarship, they'd accept him for their football program for certain, but I didn't say that.
"Oh." the guy was crestfallen. "Going to be hard to prove myself if I'm by myself." he went on. "I came hoping I'd meet another applicant who was solo."
"Yeah, well, Brett and I found each other a year ago, so sorry." I said. "Maybe they'll let me reschedule if he can't make it today."
And that was when Brett came in the door. I sighed in relief and didn't have to fake a smile as I got up. Brett saw me and froze, his face still, then he managed to grin back to me and came into my arms. I gave him a sincere kiss and he kissed me back. Kind of.
I whispered as I extended our embrace. "You're late."
"I'm here." Brett defended himself. "And I'm not late."
"But I told you...." I stopped and took a deep breath. 'It's okay. You're here now. Let's sit down and be a loving couple until they call us in." No problem for me, Brett was a magnificent stud of a teenager. I'd had a crush on him since my puberty but it had only been the last couple of months that he had approached me. Not the year I had told the guy, but the last two months, Brett and I had been a couple, meeting, getting to know each other, trying on the idea of being a couple. I'd had to be convinced to go along with the dual scholarship approach, but when Brett had opened his fly and told me to go ahead, knock myself out, I didn't need any more convincing.
"Sure." Brett said. But he was muttering as he sat down next to me, holding hands, me with the other still hanging onto my damned portfolio. I was looking at Brett and whispering to him now and then. He was nervous about this...hell, so was I. But without this scholarship, there was no way I could get into this college, and neither could he, if it came to that, it was how we had gotten together. And that brought us to this moment....
"Mr. Weathers?" came the receptionist's voice.
"I'm here."
"And you're Mr. Turner?" she asked Brett.
"That's me."
"The two of you come with me. You can leave your portfolio with the receptionist for safekeeping." she said as she saw the large unwieldy case. "You won't need it until the second interview this afternoon when you meet with members of the art department."
"Come on, lover." Brett said to me. "Time for you and me to perform."
Trouble was, he was right. We went into the next room, and there was the committee, sitting at a raised dais. Which gave them a really good view of the bed below and before it.
"Ah, Mr. Weathers." the central figure, the Dean of Admissions, said to me. "You are the primary scholarship applicant, is that right?"
"Yeah, I am. I'm...I'm an artist. My lover, Brett Turner, is here for your football program; he hasn't decided on his own major yet beyond that." I said and plunged on. "We'll want to share a dorm room of course, and have coordinated schedules to let us spend some time together."
"Yes, yes, of course, that is part of the scholarship." the Dean said. "But we must determine your qualifications for the scholarship. Please proceed."
Here we were. I turned and looked at Brett and he looked at me. Okay, this had been my idea, his eyes were telling me. I hope you know what to do next.
I gulped and moved up to him. His shirt was buttoned up and the tie obscured the buttons, I reached and pulled at the tie at his throat. His hands came up onto my arms and stroked up and down as I tugged the tie open to lie on either breast. Now I could get at the buttons. I leaned in to grab the uppermost button, the one at the throat, and when I did, Brett reached out and kissed me. With his face blocking me, I muffed the top button, but when I pulled away from that kiss, Brett reached up and undid the button himself, and the one below that. Now I had a good start on it, I began to undo the other buttons. When it was completely unbuttoned, Brett began to pull the shirt out from his pants, and I reached and stroked my hand on his still-tee-covered chest. When he finished untucking it, I stroked my hands up to his shoulders and levered the shirt off to fall on the floor.
A murmur of appreciation from the committee as I did that. Emboldened, I grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it up to his head level. Brett took over there, and as he did, I leaned down and pressed my lips over one broad, beautiful nipple. I laved my tongue upon it liberally as I undid his pants and pulled them down, the red briefs beneath were now his only covering above his knees. I brought them down and Brett's prong was there, nine long, thick inches of football stud cock, and I scarfed it up like a fat noodle and drew it into myself. Brett's cock was still soft, but under my ministrations it firmed up until it was standing proudly out from his body. Oh, God, if I got in here, I could have this cock every night! With the scholarship, they'd be monitoring us, they'd be checking on us, Brett would have to continue to be my lover if he wanted to stay in their program.
Brett's hands threaded into my hair and I let him take over for me. He would know better than I what he needed to get through this....
"Isn't Mr. Turner going to do anything?" a woman on the committee asked.
"Give them time." the Dean said.
The woman sniffed, audibly. "It's easy enough for a man to close his eyes and pretend it's a woman servicing him." she said. "If these two are a couple, let me see them act as a couple. Mr. Weathers is still fully clothed here and acting as a complete passive."
"Some gay couples do fill such solitary roles in their sexual encounters." the Dean reminded her.
"And let me remind you that with the scholarship at stake, a truly gay man can switch hit for a little while." the woman said. "Mr. Weathers, get to your feet and remove your clothing. It's time for us to see Mr. Turner give as well as receive."
I looked up at Brett. I hadn't expected that. But I got up and looked at Brett, not daring to talk, trying to beam my thoughts at him. You have to go through with this, I radiated at him. You have to be my lover here. I took off my clothes as seductively as I could while hurrying through it. Brett didn't move to help me at all. Not good. I tried to gesture downwards, but it didn't do any good.
Finally, I was naked in front of Brett. I grabbed my cock and waggled it at him. Come on! I practically screamed in my head at him.
Brett looked at my cock, then over at the committee. A smirk and giggle from the woman who had spoken up, and then he looked back at me and his hand came up in firm determination and gripped my prick. He worked my dong like it was a slab of meat instead of a part of my body and I grunted in pain, tried to act like I liked it. Come on, I thought at him, come on, you have to do this, you got to!
Brett fell onto his knees with a thud and pushed his face at my cock. Seeing his handsomely square face at my groin, I groaned and my cock surged into life. To have Brett actually suck my cock...I hadn't even dreamed I'd get that out of this! To have him in my bed, and the two of us having regular sex, yes, he'd lose his scholarship if he didn't. But to have him actually....
I looked down at Brett and his lips were dry and his eyes beaded in terror. He hadn't expected this either! "Go on!" I urged him. "Hurry!"
He made a convulsive movement and I felt his teeth scrape my prick as he swallowed me down. "Come on!" I hissed at him as I bit back a cry of pain. "Suck on it. Just like I do you. Come on."
And Brett began to suck on my cock. His mouth was still bone-dry and his lips were the only part of him that really felt good there, his tongue was a dead thing underneath. But God, it was Brett and he was sucking me. If we got this scholarship, I could teach him how to do it better. Four, maybe five years of the two of us sharing a room, sharing our bodies. Every night, we'd have sex every night!
That was enough to make me moan as Brett worked my prick, and he was beginning to gag as he worked it back and forth. When he broke into a cough, I pulled away and said, "Come on, Brett, it's time we got to where you fuck me, nice and hard."
"A-huh, a-huh, ahuh-ahuh-ahuhd! Yeah! About time." Brett was more than ready to get into that. He still had his pants on, and he pulled them up and pulled out a small tube of lubrication. "Ahuh-ahuh-ahuh!" He coughed again and said, "Get up on the bed."
I obeyed, got on all fours on the bed. The few times we had done this, it had always been like this, Brett standing on the floor and me on the bed on hands and knees, this put him at just the right height to stuff his pud in me.
I turned my head back to look at him and could see the committee beyond him. To a man (and the one woman), they looked disappointed...disapproving. Brett looked at them, too, and he shifted my butt around so that they could see him as he lifted up his cock and aimed it at my ass.
I shuddered as he drove it into me, I had to hold back the yelp of pain I felt, I managed to make it a shivering sort of groan instead. Shit, Brett wasn't being the least bit gentle here, he was ramming his formidable pud into me, putting on a show for this committee! All I could do was hang on to the bedsheets, my face writhed up in that weird mixture of pain and pleasure that feeds into your body when a hung hunk is butt-fucking you, you have his hands holding onto your hips, you have the hard rod of his dong plunging in and out, you have the sounds of his strength and fury above you, and he isn't going to stop until he's done and finished with you.
"Oh, ah, ah, oh, yeah, oh, yeah, oh, oh!" I moaned as I was buffeted back and forth with the strength of his fucks.
"Yeah, take it, take it all!" growled Brett. "Going to give you the best damn ass-ramming you ever had."
"Oh, yeah, fuck me, harder, man, harder, uh, uh, uh!" I grunted.
"Ah, ah, shit, yeah, uh, uh, yeah, I'm coming, yeah, uh, uh, uh!" Brett groaned. "Oh, yeah, uh, uh, uh, GUH-UH-HUNK-KUHHHH!"
And his spunk shot into me, I felt the hot seed pouring and I put my head down on the bed and just sobbed out in relief. God, I'd gotten through it, I'd been fucked in front of the committee and gotten through it.
"Stay where you are, Mr. Weathers." came a voice. "Mr. Turner, if you'll come this way."
Puzzled, I remained and things were quiet for a while. Then I felt hands on me again. Kind, gentle hands, they stroked my body and I closed my eyes and sighed. They must have talked to Brett, told him to come back and treat me gently, the hands were now playing with my upraised ass and when they dove down to caress my balls, I moaned and lifted my buttocks up and the hand caught hold of my cock. Nothing of the "just grab" that Brett had done, this one was making love to my prong with just the hand.
"Oh, ah, Brett, yeah!" I sighed and rolled over onto my back.
The guy who had hold of my cock was the one who had been waiting out in the reception area. "You?" I asked.
The committee was watching me, watching us, still. "What happened to Brett?"
The Dean sighed. "It happens all too often at these scholarship meetings." he said. "These scholarships are meant for the genuinely gay students, we can't waste them on young men willing to prostitute themselves to other men just to get into the school. So we have sent him off to our psychologist who ought to finish puncturing this all-too-common gay act he's been putting on. As for you, we are offering you this chance to prove your true nature. Scott here is a solitary applicant and requires a partner for this portion. So, we've brought you together. Unless you'd rather select another for your retest."
"Uh." I looked at Scott, naked as I was, a bit thin as I was, but he was attractive in a "cute as a button" sort of way. "I guess this is okay." I said. "I mean, if I have to take a retest with someone other than Brett." I said loyally.
"We require it." the Dean said.
"In that case." I said, lifting my hand up to Scott. "Come here." Scott fell into my embrace happily and that kiss he gave me put Brett's to shame without half trying. His hands were all over me, stroking me, enticing me. I gave it back to him as best I could and my cock, ignored in the stuck-pig routine that Brett and I had ended on, began to wake up again to the prospects. I'd come with Brett fucking me before today...but not today, he'd done it all too fast. My passion still lay within me, waiting...waiting for someone to wake it up like Scott was doing.
From kissing and stroking, we moved into a sixty-nine position, and Scott's pud slid into me like a hand in an old glove. With Brett I had always felt like a sword-swallower, with Scott's more modest but more-than-adequate seven inches, it was an easy, comfortable fit.
Scott's lips were moist and then some, he slathered a thick coat of his saliva over my dong and then began to play it like a fine instrument. I was doing the same for him, but for the first time in my limited experience, I was having sex with someone with more experience than me.
The committee didn't say a word, just watched as Scott and I nursed each other to our height. As my climax rose within me, I gave a few warning grunts and then gratefully shot my wad right into his hungry throat. Scott drank me down, and when I was done, his dong awaited my now-undivided attention. I played him with every trick I had, and soon he was grunting urgently, and I clung on tight and as he splashed his spunk into my mouth, I suckled on it like it was dispensing the finest wine ever.
Done, I moved up to kiss on Scott and it was only the Dean's clearing his throat that made me stop after a few seconds.
"I think we've seen enough here." he said to us. "If you two will get dressed, we'll bring you back here at two o'clock for your meetings with the art department. I understand that both of you are fine artists and won't have any trouble fitting in on that score. We'll be in contact with you in approximately four weeks as to our final decision."
The Dean looked around and said, "If there is no other business, I declare this meeting of the Scholarship Committee to be concluded."
THE END
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