Chapter 10: Chad Drops In
The following Friday I headed back to the fraternity after my last class of the day. I was almost whistling as I opened the door to the house. I had a DATE. I don't know if HE'D call it a date, maybe he'd just call is a "study session" or "tutoring." I called it a date.
I was heading out of my Differential Equations class, looking forward to another fine weekend, when I heard somebody calling, "Ian! Hey, Ian! Wait up!" I had turned around only to find the cute blond guy from the row ahead of me, hurrying to catch up with me.
Naturally I slowed down. WHENEVER a cute guy indicates he wants to talk with me I slow down. "What's up, Kevin?" I asked. I also took the opportunity to study him as he drew closer. Kevin was around my height, that is to say 5"11", 160 pounds or so, on the slim side, and with a good, athletic build. He was wearing a tight PiKA shirt (PiKA equals Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity, for those of you who aren't into the "Greek" system, as fraternities are called.)
It showed off his tan nicely-Kevin was fair skinned, and probably tanned easily, you know, typical Irish or English body-type, and had obviously been spending time in the sun. Kevin had blond hair parted in the middle (I LOVE that) and hanging halfway down his back (I get a HARD ON over that!)
His shirt sleeves wrapped tightly around his upper arms, showing off the muscles he'd gotten as a varsity wrestler (I only knew that Kevin wrestled 'cause I went to a practice match once, only to see one of my fellow TKEs whip his ass. Well, actually not whipped, it was a decision on points as Kevin and Brian, my fraternity brother, were closely matched. Kevin looked GREAT in a wrestling suit; it showed off a bulge in his pants which I was eager to get my hands-or mouth-on). I could see two perky little tits jutting out from Kevin's nicely-built chest whenever the shirt moved the right way..
Kevin was wearing shorts. It was, in my mind, borderline shorts weather. But I was willing to make the sacrifice of looking at Kevin's muscular legs-wrestling will do that to you-if Kevin was willing to make the sacrifice of wearing shorts on a cool day. The shorts also fitted snugly over tight hips, and showed off a nice package whereof I've already spoken.
All this I saw as Kevin caught up to me (actually, I was just CONFIRMING it; I'd already scoped Kevin out in previous classes over the years, but we ran in different circles which had not, so far, intersected very much). "What's up?" I again repeated as Kevin came almost within hugging distance (with someone THAT cute, my hugging distance is QUITE far!)
"I missed last Wednesday's class," Kevin said. I had known that-without Kevin to look at and fantasize about, the class was otherwise pretty boring. "I wanted to know if I could borrow your notes."
I said, "Sure," and stopped to get out the right notebook. I flipped it open to the right spot, took out some of the pages and handed them to him. He was standing, I thought, a lot closer than I would have. Or maybe it was just my imagination. Or my fantasy.
"Thanks," Kevin said, taking the papers and stuffing them into his backpack. We started walking down the corridor side by side; I guess he was done for the week also. "Say," Kevin said after a while. "I know you're good at this stuff. I'm okay, but it's a struggle. We have that test coming up next week" [Good thing he reminded me; I'd almost forgotten about it. Maybe I'd have to stay sober and straight-make that un-stoned-this weekend so I could study. Nah.] "I was wondering if maybe we could study together, you know, go over the extra problems and all." After a pause he added, "I'd even pay you. I know you sometimes tutor for extra cash."
I said, "I'd be happy to help you. And you don't have to pay me. Maybe you can buy me dinner or something." I had LOTS of ideas about what that "something" could be. None of them was clean.
We debated back and forth as we walked across campus, when and where to meet.
We finally settled on Saturday, the next day, around 4, at his place. Kevin had a wrestling match earlier in the afternoon, and I like to keep my Sundays free to do all of the homework which I should have been doing during the week. And the PiKA house had a study room, so we'd have a place to spread out where we wouldn't be disturbed.
By then Kevin and I'd reached the split in the sidewalk where one path led to the "upper houses," where TKE was located, the other down the hill to the "lower houses," where the PiKA mansion was. Kevin and I said our good byes and went our separate ways. I was whistling and almost skipping as I went towards the TKE house, "I have a date. I have a date." Like I said, I called it a date. Would he?
I got back to the house and was heading across the living room to the back stairwell, where the mailbox was, when I was accosted by a stranger sitting on one of the lounge chairs. "Ian?" he asked. "By any chance are you Ian?" he asked as he stood up.
I turned to look at him.
He was about 6 1 and had brown hair and brown eyes, and no facial hair. He looked liked he weighed maybe 180, and had the heft and build of a football player. Not first string, he didn't look massive enough for that, well maybe a tight end or something (since I hadn't seen him from the rear, I couldn't tell if he had a tight end.)
He was dressed casually, but well, in khakis, a Polo shirt (I could see the logo on his breast), with just a hint of hair poking out at the neck, and Timberlands on his feet. You know, like what any other Ivy League college student wears. He even had the requisite gold chain around his neck and class ring on one finger. A well-put-together young man, the kind your mother wished you would be. Or at least look like.
He stuck out his hand. "Hi, I'm Chad," he said. "I hope you're Ian. Vance told me to look for you if I couldn't find him. I haven't been able to find him, so I hope you're Ian. You look even better than your picture." I looked at him quizzically, one eyebrow cocked. "Vance sent me your picture. He really likes you. Don't worry, you have clothes on." Then he realized what he'd just said and blushed. "Um, sorry, um. God, what did I just say? I HOPE you're Ian. If not, then I've just made a jackass of myself. I know, I'm babbling. That's the way I am when I meet strangers." Then he paused. "You ARE Ian, aren't you?"
I almost let Chad stew by saying I wasn't but I decided to take pity on him. I stuck out my hand to shake his. It was already shaking, I guess he WAS nervous. "Yes, I'm Ian." Then to relax him, I asked, "How do you know Vance?"
"We went to high school together. And did lots of things together." ["Just what KIND of things?" I thought."] "His family and mine have known each other for years. Then he went to college here and I went down to Princeton."
[I was RIGHT. He WAS Ivy League.] "We have a three-day weekend, and Vance invited me up. And now I can't find him." Chad looked almost ready to cry when he said that.
Blaine, another TKE, was just walking across the living room when Chad said that. "Are you looking for Vance?" he asked. "I think he's up in his room.
He said he wasn't feeling well, stomach virus or flu or something. I think the health clinic gave him something and he's upstairs sleeping it off." Blaine headed out the door.
Chad looked like a lost puppy dog, so I said. "I'm not doing anything the rest of the afternoon. Let me throw my things in my room, then we can go get a beer downstairs or something. Why don't you grab your stuff and you can stick it in my room until we find out what's up with Vance?" Chad picked up his backpack, apparently all the luggage he'd brought, and obediently followed me up to my room.
We got there and dumped our stuff. I went to my dresser and got out a bag of dope and package of rolling paper. "It's the weekend. You wanna join me?" I asked, holding up the bag.
"Sure," he said. "Vance told me you have good dope." Hmmm. I'd have to tell Vance to keep his mouth shut about that sort of thing. I can find my own customers, thank you very much.
I sat down on the bed and motioned for my guest to have a seat on the lounge chair. I rolled a joint. While I was at it, I rolled a couple more. We DID have a few hours until dinner. I picked up a lighter, took a hit, held my breath, and handed the joint to Chad. My doubts about whether this clean-cut boy had ever smoked dope before were quickly dispelled by the way he held the joint, inhaled, and held his breath, almost rolling the smoke around in his mouth, savoring it.
I got up to put on a tape (in those days, CDs were as yet not invented. Records were used by purists, tapes for their convenience.) I looked through my collection. I wasn't in a jazz mood. I finally found a collection of Mozart wind concertos I hadn't heard in a while. I like his bassoon concerto best, but the horn and oboe concertos are also good.
Chad, it turned out, also liked classical music; he had the same tape. Indeed, he had tapes of just about everything Mozart had written. As we smoked we found we had a lot in common, only starting with classical music. We also had similar tastes in books, mostly non-fiction but also some classics and the occasional trashy novel. We argued about whether books made from movies or movies made from books were better. He liked the book version of "The Old Man and the Sea" better than the movie. My example was "East of Eden." James Dean and the rest of the cast were good in the movie, but it only covers three or four chapters of the book, which Chad and I both agreed was a much better book. [There, now this story has redeeming social value, so you can't call it porn any more!]
Somehow we'd stayed off the topic of Vance. And the fact that Chad knew that Vance had seen me naked and liked what he had seen, and might even have had pictures of me. Hell, Chad HAD to know I was gay, I didn't make any secret of it. I had a rainbow flag hanging on one wall, a poster of Judy on another, and a bunch of magnets with naked guys on them on the outside of one file cabinet My room was impeccably decorated, considering it was in a frat house. The drapes matched the bedspread, and my plants were all green and in designer pots. All I was needed were opera records. I HATE opera. I guessed Chad was gay, also, but he wasn't flagrant about it. "Straight acting," his ad would read. Come to think about it, I'm pretty straight acting myself; I only let my hair down (well, the hair that I haven't shaved off,) when I'm around "family" and in the right setting, like at a Gay Pride march.
By then if was a bit before 5:30, forty minutes or so before dinner. I'd assumed Vance had made arrangements for Chad to stay; you were supposed to let the cook know. Since Vance didn't seem to be around, Chad would be MY guest. Chad started to get up from his chair. "Do you mind if I go take a shower?" Chad asked. "I'm kind of grubby from the bus trip. And I don't want to be sweaty for tonight's Wales Tales game."
Well, THAT answered the question about whether Chad liked boys or girls. Then I thought, "Dammit! I already HAVE plans for tonight. And they don't include a game of 'Tales. NOW what do I do?" I thought quickly. "Do you need help?" was all I could come up with.
Chad grinned at me. "Vance said you moved quickly," Chad replied. "I don't think I need help in the shower. But maybe afterwards," he added mysteriously. "Vance has told me about some of your special, uh, talents. Can I borrow a towel? I forgot mine."
Chad started stripping as he said this. I watched, the dope making me kind of slow to get up and get Chad a towel. And besides, it's FUN to watch a guy strip. Chad stripped methodically. First he took of his shirt, exposing a broad chest with only a triangle of hair between two dark tits. His back had almost no hair. Chad carefully folded his shirt and laid it over the arm of the chair.
Chad caught me watching him undress. "Go ahead and look," he said. "I've been working out on my upper body. What do you think?" Chad bent his arm, "making a muscle," and kind of bent forward on one leg into a typical body-builder's pose. We both laughed at that. We laughed again when I said, "Not bad. Have you been working on your MIDDLE body?"-emphasizing the word "middle." "You'll just have to find out for yourself," was Chad's rejoinder.
Chad sat down to take off his shoes and socks. I got up in the meantime to get him a clean towel for his shower. By the time I'd gotten back to my viewing seat on my bed, Chad had rolled up his socks and stuck them into his shoes, which he'd then neatly set along side the chair. Chad stood up, undid his belt and opened his zipper.
"Just a minute," I suddenly shouted. I got up and grabbed my camera and turned quickly. I got a shot of Chad slowly spreading the flaps on his pants. A hint of blue boxers showed. Chris stripped out of his pants. He folded them and neatly laid them on top of his shirt. I got some good shots of him in a variety of positions.
Chad turned his back on me and grabbed the towel and wrapped it around his waist. He reached under and pulled off his underwear. "Maybe later you can have a GOOD shot of me," he said.
"I just GOT a good shot of you," I retorted. "You look sexier with that towel on than you would naked. It adds more mystery. Why do you think sexy underwear sells so well?"
Chad grinned and said, "Well, then. Maybe I'll let you take a BAD shot of me later!" He got his soap and shampoo out of his backpack and asked, "Which way's the shower?" I told him, and off he went.
Chad came back about fifteen minutes later. His hair was wet and there was a slight sheen of water on his chest and arms. "We have about twenty-five minutes until dinner," I told him.
"Good," he said, stripping off the towel and starting to dry his hair. Snap, a shot of him taking off his towel. Snap, a shot of him drying his hair. Snap, a shot of him standing there, holding the towel in his hand, watching me take a picture of him.
"These aren't BAD shots," I told him. "Why, if I squint hard, I can almost see you have a penis!"
Chad quickly rolled up the towel and snapped it at my crotch. Ouch! He was GOOD! I felt that one through my jeans. "Keep it up and I won't let you do your stuff on me," Chad warned.
"What 'stuff'?" I asked.
Chad went over to his backpack and rummaged around. He turned to me and held out a razor blade. "Vance told me all about your special skills. I want you to shave my cock and balls in preparation for tonight's Wales Tales game." Chad sat on the edge of my bed, spread his legs, and said, "Go for it."
I knelt in front of him and took my first good look at his crotch. Chad was moderately hairy around his cock, which was maybe four inches soft, and uncut. His balls looked average, but above average in hairiness. I'd have my work cut out for me to get him ready for the game.
"Lie back," I told him. "It's easier to get at things." While Chad laid flat on his back, I got up to get my clippers. And my camera, with which I got a couple of "before" shots. "I'll start with these. It's faster that way." Before Chad could object, I had the clippers on and was working at the bush surrounding his cock and balls. I merely trimmed it, to give it a neat appearance. I usually don't shave the entire crotches unless the guy asks me to. I also ran the clippers over Chad's balls, taking off as much hair as I could, then up the sides of his cock.
I set the clippers down and got to work with the razor. Chad had thoughtfully left his crotch hair wet, which made it softer and easier to shave. I decided to do Chad's balls first. I pulled on his sac to stretch the skin. As I scraped, I noticed Chad was starting to get hard. I guess he likes his balls played with. Since I like playing with balls, I made sure to roll them around and fondle them more than necessary to give a good shave.
Soon a six- to seven-inch one-eyed cobra was slowly folding back the skin hiding its eye. As I don't like hairy snakes, I took hold of it and started scraping it from top to base. And what a pretty snake Chad had! Chad was very much cut; he had almost no foreskin at all. His cock head made a very pretty picture with the ring exposed, just barely circled with the remaining skin.
"Before I check out my work," I need you to bring up your knees," I told Chad. Chad scooted up the bed a little, and lifted his legs, bending his knees so that his ankles were just on the edge of my bed. I took hold under his knees with one hand, and pushed up and back, getting him in a position to be fucked. I noticed his cock twitching a little, in anticipation. But I wasn't planning to fuck Chad, just to shave his perineum.
I managed to lift up Chad's smooth balls with the same arm I had under his knees. I scraped away; the skin between Chad's balls and ass was nearly smooth, anyway. "He'd look good with a guiche," I thought, as I plucked at the soft skin there. While I was at it, I lightly ran the blade down the sides of Chad's asshole, not that it really needed it. I just wanted to see-and feel-it Chad didn't protest, maybe he WANTED me to fuck him.
I set Chad's legs down again, then said, "Look sexy. I want to take some shots of you." Chad moved around, trying to look sexy. I got shots of him lying on his side, one knee raised. I got a shot of him "humping" the ceiling. I got a shot of him with his ass up in the air. DID he want me to fuck him?
"Turn over on your back, again," I ordered. "I need to inspect my work and make sure I didn't miss anything. I have my reputation as a barber to maintain." Chad rolled over and laid there with his legs spread. His cock had subsided to half-hardness. As I inspected it, and played with it, and razed away a few stray hairs, it hardened again.
"The best way for me to tell if I missed anything is with my tongue," I said.
I leaned forward and started tickling Chads ball sac with the tip of my tongue. I HAD missed some spots; I quickly touched them up. I decided we still had a few minutes before dinner, so I went for broke.
I took Chad's balls in my mouth and started rolling them around with my tongue. Chad moaned with pleasure. I ran my tongue between them, then over them. I pulled back gently, stretching Chad's sac. He moaned again and reached for his hard cock, which I could see had a drop of pearly pre-cum at its tip. I slapped his hand away so that I could play with it. And play I did. As I worked on Chad's balls-he seemed to be able to take it harder than most guys, but when I squeezed with my mouth he finally mumbled, "Easy, there. That's not a rubber ball in your mouth."
I reached under my bed and got out some lube. Before Chad could protest too much I was running my finger up and down his ass crack and soon had my middle finger up his asshole up to the second knuckle. I guessed he'd had things up there before; my finger slipped in without much trouble.
I was having a marvelous time, working my hand on Chad's cock up and down, stretching the foreskin over the tip, then exposing the glans, then stretching it upward again. I was sucking on and licking and fondling Chad's balls with my mouth. I was finger-fucking him with the other hand; I soon had TWO fingers up there. If we'd had more time I was pretty sure I could get my own one-eyed snake up there.
But we ran out of time. The dinner bell rang. Chad tried to sit up. I took my mouth from Chad's cock and said, "Relax. That's just the first bell. We have five minutes 'til dinner starts." With that, I sucked in Chad's balls and started working on them, Chad's cock, and his ass in earnest.
"I'm cumming!" Chad shouted. Since I didn't want to spoil my dinner, I aimed Chad's cock at his chest. I pumped out one spray of cum, then another and another. A pattern of droplets ranged from one tit-the guy had some range-to where the treasure trail would have been had I not just shaved it off. I kept pumping, draining Chad. He put his hand down there, to push mine away, but I kept pumping, long past when I was sure he was drained. Finally he gasped, "Enough," and I stopped.
I stood up and grabbed my camera and got a shot of Chad, with newly shaved cock and balls, neatly trimmed pubes, and a chest full of cum. "Vance'll like this one," I thought to myself.
Chad sat up, looking around for the towel and his clothes. I handed him the towel and we wiped off his chest, the reached between his legs to wipe off the lube. I used another towel to wipe off my fingers. Chad, in the meantime, was throwing on his underwear and socks, then shirt, then finally his pants, neatly tucking in his shirt as he pulled them on.
Chad sat down to put his shoes on, then suddenly leaned forward. He grabbed my crotch, which had been bulging; my cock eager to join the party. I could feel the wetness of my own pre-cum down there; I was glad I had on a pair of heavy cotton underwear or there'd have been a wet spot on the from of my jeans. "When am I going to get to play with yours?" Chad asked.
"Vance may be too sick to play tonight, or to be much of a host. Why don't you sleep HERE tonight?" I suggested. "We have sleeping bags for extra guests. That's probably what Vance had planned for you. I know Jeff, Vance's roommate, is here this weekend. You can see Vance TOMORROW." After a pregnant pause I added, "And you can see ME tonight. I'll be back by 1:00 at the latest. Your Tales game should be done by then. I'll make sure to get you a sleeping bag and pillow before I leave." Not that I expected us to get much sleep that night.
We didn't.