The Courtship This is a true story. Feedback is welcomed. ~Tom B
I moved into the "athlete dorm" in August. I knew the atmosphere of the building already through rumors and administrative warnings but I wanted a single room desperately. My senior year at (name) college was going to be difficult so I needed the privacy and comfort of a room all to myself and I was willing to take the risk.
I am an out gay college student yet through the allies I have made and the manner in which I carry myself, I have gone through my academic years unscathed. Now as I enter my last lap of college, I've grown quite a thickness of skin; so although there was a risk, I wasn't too afraid.
It's now the last two months of my second semester. I've experienced this interesting dance between this guy on my floor. He's sitting next to me now as I write this... I can hardly stand it. Here's how it went. Grab your pen ...
Bleary-eyed and groggy, I stumble into the bathroom at 8:30 a.m.
I have this wonderful job at this horrible time but I've never been one to skip out on work -- I have my parents to thank for this work ethic.
"Hey what's goin' on?"
"Nothing much," I reply into the sink.
"You alright?" he presses.
Now I'm not really a morning person so perky morning people annoy the shit out of me. I spin around to shoot my half-ass "I'm okay" response when I suddenly swallow my words. Standing behind me is this God of a man.
Tall. Tan. Toned. Smiling. Shirtless.
All of the prerequisites for the beginnings of a porn fantasy.
"I'm alright." I say adjusting my body toward his. "Cool. What are you up to?"
Yes, at 8:30 a.m. I can't really resist the pun; I stifled a snicker.
"Preparing for work."
"Where do you work?"
What am I being interviewed?
As I take a minute to decide if this guy is annoying me or arousing me, he shoots me a smile. I concede -- he's definitely a charmer.
"I work in the theatre scene shop."
Yeah don't laugh, gay men like working with tools and wood too.
"Really?"
I can tell he's under the same assumption. I'm not too masculine of a man. In fact, I'm fairly effeminate, but not in the obsessive-Cher-fan, type.
"Yeah," I shoot back defiantly.
"Cool. Well, take it easy."
"Thanks."
I turned back to the sink to finish cleaning up when I noticed him stepping toward the shower in the back of the bathroom.
I would like to take this time out to thank God for (a) constructing this bathroom in this manner -- with no curtain to hide behind and all three mirrors granting full view toward the shower; (b) blessing me to live on this floor where the nearest male bathroom is near my room; (c) keeping up with my work ethic.
I memorized every step: he turned on the shower, positioned his soap and shampoo, flung his towel over the shower rail, tested the water, and then dropped his shorts and stepped in. I got full view of this beautiful man's beautiful ass. Toned. Tight. Hairless.
I nearly swallowed my toothpaste.