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JJ shows off for the camera

One Summer at Stevens Point Ch. 02

Revised version copyright 2006 by the author.



I had a lot of trouble getting to sleep that night and it wasn t just because the bruise on my head prevented me from lying in my favored sleeping position. I knew I d gotten off lightly–there was nothing to have prevented my trick from beating me to a pulp in the empty locker room or to have come back with a cop accusing me of making indecent advances.



It wasn t just around the students and parents at the Institute that I had to be on guard. Even searching for quick anonymous relief seemed fraught with danger here. I found myself becoming profoundly depressed not only for myself but also for the boy who had come on to then assaulted me. I could only imagine the conflicts that raged within him.



It was probably around one when I finally fell asleep. Inevitably I was awakened around six by the high piping voices of small children going past my door on their way to breakfast. My head throbbed and I knew I d have to take something for it. I lay in my bed and groaned at the thought of a full day s teaching ahead in my dazed and confused state. There was no point in trying to fall asleep again–I d have to be up for real in less than an hour.



I decided to try a walk before breakfast. The cool slightly misty morning air hit my face as I left the dorm and in spite of myself my spirits begin to lift. The bad taste of the events of yesterday afternoon finally began to fade. Needless to say I hadn t cum during yesterday s abortive encounter. I sighed as I realized that despite everything I was still incurably ragingly horny. Would I never learn? Shaking my head I began to walk toward the athletic fields.



I kept to the sidewalk at the edge of the large grassy rectangle that held the Stevens Point outdoor track. Even at this early hour there was already someone on it setting a brisk pace. It was a man dressed only in a pair of turquoise running shorts. The color seemed startlingly bright in the morning light and emphasized the top condition of his body. He drew close and I noted that the hair on his chest was peppered with gray. Not bad looking for an old guy quite nice in fact…



I was shaken out of my increasingly lustful reverie by a voice calling my name.



Good morning Mr. Hewitt! The figure raised one arm in a friendly wave.



The runner knew who I was. I peered closely at his face for the first time and saw eyes that even at this distance were blue the face framed by curly graying hair and beard.



It was one of the parents in my ten o clock master class–Molly s dad. I desperately searched my brain for his name hoping he hadn t noticed that I d been checking him out.



The man had stopped on the track opposite where I was on the sidewalk breathing hard glistening with sweat his muscular chest rising and falling. I was very conscious of his superb physique. Even though I was probably ten or twelve years younger I felt flabby and inferior.



Mr. Wagner. I d finally remembered his name. It was after all only the second day of Institute.



Call me Mike please. You re out early.



So are you. Molly still asleep?



Mike Wagner was shaking out his legs corded with muscle.



No she s eating breakfast. One of the other moms down the hall was nice enough to take her so I could get in my daily run. I usually do it before she gets up but today I overslept.



You re very dedicated. Feeling bold I added It shows.



Molly s father smiled. Thanks. It gets me out of bed in the morning.



There was a pause. I found myself wanting to keep the conversation going. I said with mock severity I hope you and Molly did her assignment last night.



Mike nodded vigorously. Oh yes sir. Twenty-five times on the jungle. The jungle was the trickiest passage in the movement of the Vivaldi Concerto Molly was playing. Setting the metronome a little faster each time. She complained a bit but we did it.



Good I said. We ll hear that first today.



Mike grimaced a bit. I hope I got it right. Lois–my late wife–was a musician herself. Since she s been gone I ve often wondered whether I was really helping Molly. I ve worried a lot that I was messing her up.



I sensed he was talking about more than violin playing. Some impulse made me answer in kind. You re doing a great job with her. I can tell she s having the time of her life here this week. She really looks up to you. I stopped wondering whether I d said too much.



Mike Wagner was looking at me with an unreadable expression. Thanks. That means a lot to me. He left the track and came toward me. I kept my eyes on his face with a conscious effort but the impact of his presence was palpable. My breathing quickened and I felt lightheaded.



You know I ve come to Stevens Point several years and Molly s had a different teacher every year. None of them have been bad and some of them have been really good. But you re the best ever. He reached out and grasped my upper arm startling me. Mr. Hewitt it s a privilege for Molly and me to work with you.



Well thank you I managed. And call me Alan.



Still gripping my shoulder Mike offered his other hand. I shook it dazed by his smile and charisma. Okay Alan. But Molly s still going to call you Mr. Hewitt. I ve got to finish my run. See you in class.



Something changed in our relationship after that early morning conversation though the lessons with Molly went on pretty much the same. I worked her hard in the ten or twelve minutes I had with her every morning and gave her an assignment for each evening tempering my demands with humor. Molly laughed a lot quite unfazed by my attempts at sternness.



Occasionally though I would catch sight of Mike not watching his daughter or the teaching point I was trying to illustrate but me. I should have been flattered that he was following my every move so intently but I found it disturbing. It got so I avoided looking in his direction while teaching his daughter not that that was easy. Mike came to class every morning dressed in a T-shirt or polo shirt and shorts that showed off his narrow hips and long sinewy legs. One day he wore a tank top and I even caught one or two of the mothers of the other students eyeing him covertly. If only they knew the teacher felt the same way.



I tried to relieve my tensions in the way I usually did by swimming. I d thought about not going back to the Y but decided what the hell. The chances were that I wouldn t see the blond boy who had decked me and even if I did he probably wasn t eager for another encounter either. As it turned out I never saw him again. So I had to content myself with Jack Gormley in his Speedos. I found myself idly speculating about my chances with him. But it wasn t in me deliberately to try and disrupt a long-term relationship no matter what unconscious signals Jack might be sending out.



Wednesday evening of Institute week I was slated to play on a faculty recital. As I was practicing my piece with the Institute accompanist in the gymnasium that afternoon I sensed someone sitting in the very back listening. After casting a few glances in that direction I realized it was Mike. I didn t acknowledge him but noticed that he stayed until I had finished playing.



Performing in public has always been a difficult experience for me even when I know the audience is mostly children and parents and safely uncritical. I was shaking palms sweaty when I walked out onstage and counted myself lucky to get through my piece without a major disaster. I bowed and left feeling my usual mixture of relief that it was over and annoyance that my nerves had torpedoed some of my best intentions.



I escaped the congratulations as soon as I could–I never felt I deserved them–and took refuge in my dorm room. During the year in Chicago chilling out after a performance usually meant going out usually to a bar or if I were really keyed up to one of the bathhouses. Drinking and sex were usually enough to keep me from dwelling on the performance just past replaying the imperfections over and over in my mind like a defective CD. Of course doing such things here was out of the question.



My moody thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock on my door. I wasn t expecting anybody to stop by. I fervently hoped it wasn t one of the adult trainees in the teacher development course I was doing this week–they could easily stay for an hour or more plying me with questions I d heard countless times before and that could easily have been taken care of in class.



I opened the door. Mike Wagner stood there smiling. He was dressed a bit more formally than usual in a short-sleeved dress shirt and khakis. In one hand he held two clear plastic cups in the other a bottle of scotch.



I was hoping you d be here he said. I thought I d offer to throw a little reception in honor of your wonderful performance.



Taken by surprise I blushed and stammered. Aw Mike you didn t have to do that.



I know. I wanted to. Do you have any ice? I rented a refrigerator for the week–I can go back to my room and get some if you don t have any.



I have some. This is damn nice of you.



So I can come in before someone sees me with this illegal contraband?



Settled in with our Scotches him in the one chair in the room me sitting on the bed Mike raised his drink. To you Alan. He swallowed.



Thanks I said. I raised my plastic cup in turn. To children and parents who care enough to give them the gift of music.



Mike said nothing but smiled as he raised his glass. We drank again. The strong liquor started to go to my head. The top two buttons on Mike s shirt were unbuttoned and I caught myself staring at the hair on his chest peeking out through the opening.



Not that it s any of my business but where s Molly tonight?



She s become great pals with one of the other little girls in your class–Sarah Wilkes. They decided they wanted to do a slumber party. Sarah s mom is great she said sure come on over. She told me she s going to sit in the dorm lounge and watch TV until they fall asleep. Knowing Molly she s in for a long night Mike chuckled.



He paused then added Mrs. Wilkes is a single mom–divorced. I ve caught her looking at me once or twice this week as if she d like to invite _me_ over for a slumber party. He laughed self-consciously.



Well you are one of the few unattached men around here. Imbibing had loosened my tongue and it seemed I was on a roll for I continued Think you ll ever marry again Mike?



Mike took a long time to answer staring into space. Maybe he was feeling the buzz too. No he said finally. After a pause he added I don t think I have it in me.



Do you ever think Molly might need a mother? I regretted asking the question as soon as the words had left my lips. Mike raised his head and looked at me not angry or offended as I had expected but with a strange and sorrowful expression.



It s weird when you re widowed and have a kid he said. Especially here no one sees you as anything except a parent. Molly s dad. Sarah s mom. You can t imagine how many people have said that to me. My own parents are the worst. Get married again for the sake of the child they say. No one thinks about whether it would be good for me.



Mike I m sorry I said abashed. I was out of line.



He shook his head. It s okay. You just touched a nerve that s all.



We sat in silence and sipped our drinks. Soon Mike drained his plastic cup and rose. Guess I d better turn in.



So soon? I bitterly regretted what I d said earlier.



Mike smiled. Alan it s okay really. It s just that I m rather looking forward to a night by myself in the room.



Thanks for the Scotch. That was very thoughtful I said still feeling like I d ruined the evening.



Don t mention it. And keep the rest. You may need it after Friday s grand finale.



We were both standing facing each other. I didn t know exactly what I was expecting and Mike seemed irresolute as well. Then he clapped me heartily on the shoulder. Good night Alan he said and was gone.



I stood feeling as if a chance to unravel whatever it was that was going on between us had been lost.



Halfway through Institute week it always seems as if it will never end but finally it was Friday. The grand finale the group concert of all the Institute violin students would take place at night.



I wasn t jaded yet like some of the veteran teachers and I still found the spectacle of hundreds of violin students standing in the UWSP gymnasium playing the Suzuki songs in unison young and old together to be a thrilling experience. Still it had turned out to be a rather strange week and the distractions definitely affected my playing. I found myself wandering off course during some of the songs easy ones that I could play in my sleep. I hurriedly looked around to see if any of the other teachers playing near me had noticed. My performer s ego had apparently survived the week intact at any rate.



The final concert being over didn t mean that I was finished yet. I still had to read through observations that the members of my teacher course had written about classes they d watched that day. Back in my room I looked at the pile of sheets on my desk sighed and set to work. Then there was the task of returning them since we had already met for the last time and I wouldn t see my trainees again before they left. Fortunately most of them were in the same dorm I was in so I walked up and down the hallways sliding papers under room doors hurrying away so as not to get into conversations. When I was done at last it was almost midnight. The heat wave that had rolled into Stevens Point in the last day or so showed no signs of letting up and the room was warm and close. I really needed another shower before I turned in.



As I walked down the hall toward the men s bathroom soap shampoo and towel in hand I heard water running. My first reaction was annoyance. I d waited until now to take a shower precisely so that I could have some privacy. I heaved a sigh opened the door and stepped into the bathroom. There was a bathrobe hung on one of the hooks outside the entrance to the communal shower. I put my stuff down on the tiled floor peeled off my T-shirt and gym shorts and hung my clothes and my towel on another hook.



If the Stevens Point men s dorm had been cruisy the shower in this bathroom might have been an interesting place because it was so small. There were just four shower heads set close together. A man stood under the spray rushing out of the one furthest from the entrance. He was tall with broad shoulders and a slender waist. His legs were lean and roped with muscle his buttocks dimpled. He turned at that moment. It was Mike Wagner.



I drew in my breath sharply. Mike seemed a bit taken aback as well but nodded and said hello. Trying to stay calm I turned on the spray and began to soap myself keeping my back to Mike. I willed myself not to stare at his body even though I wanted to desperately.



Mike though began to make conversation. Great concert wasn t it?



Yes it was I answered half wishing he would finish up and leave at the same time wishing he would stay.



Lord it s hot tonight. I waited till now to take a shower. Hate it when half the world s walking through this bathroom. Reminds me of high school gym class.



I smiled weakly not saying anything. At that moment I didn t need to be reminded of high school gym class and its frustrations.



Besides some of the guys on this hall shouldn t be allowed to take their clothes off in public.



A bubble of astonished laughter escaped from me and I looked at Mike. There was something in his smile that made me hold his gaze.



Present company excepted of course Alan.



My throat felt dry. Thanks I managed. To my horror I felt myself getting hard. Here I was giving myself away in front of the father of one of my students. I turned away again and began to rinse off. I had to finish up and get out of here.



Alan?



What? I said brusquely.



Could I borrow some of your shampoo? I forgot to bring mine.



There wasn t any way to refuse. With a sigh I picked up my bottle and turned. Mike was facing me and my eyes couldn t stop from wandering down to the area below his flat stomach. His crotch was forested with a dense mass of pubic hair out of which rose a long uncut and definitely stiffening cock.



The sight of his arousal sent a jolt of electricity through me. I looked up and our eyes met and locked. So the signals I thought I d been receiving from this man all week were real. What was I going to do about it? Frantic voices in my brain reminded me of where I was and the trouble I could bring upon myself.



The desire and frustration that I had brought with me to the Institute and that had increased during the past few days were too much though. As if in a dream I stepped closer. I saw my hand reach out and grasp what was being offered my brain half expecting Mike to pull away shouting in indignant protest.



Nothing happened. I breathed in the steamy heat of the shower felt the water splash over my skin. I felt the hard smooth flesh of Mike s dick in my palm watched the rounded purple head emerge from the foreskin as I slowly moved my hand back and forth.



I looked in Mike s face again. His eyes were closed his mouth slightly open. There was no doubt that he was enjoying this. Feeling bolder I moved closer and put one arm around him. His own arms rose and encircled me in a tight wet embrace. Trapped between our bodies our hard cocks pressed against one another.



Come to my room I whispered in his ear.



I d said the wrong thing. Mike s eyes flew open and an expression of alarm appeared on his face. He shook his head.



I can t. I ve got to get back to Molly.



He pulled himself from my grasp and hurriedly stepped from the shower into the drying area grabbing his towel and rubbing himself in quick jerky motions. Completely at a loss I stood watching him soap still on my body my arousal forgotten.



Mike what s the matter?



He was putting on his bathrobe.



I m sorry Alan. I shouldn t have done that. I m sorry… It s just–



Frustration made me speak without thinking. It s just what Mike? It s just that you were leading me on?



Shh. Please–not so loud. Mike tied the belt of his robe around his waist. Let s forget it. Good night.



He flung open the bathroom door and almost knocked over a sleepy-eyed man coming to brush his teeth. He disappeared as the new arrival looked at me startled. I realized I was standing stark naked dripping water and suds. There was nothing to do but get back in the shower.



TO BE CONTINUED

Nasty and naughty, they both know how to get the top of pleasures from each other. First it all starts with tasty blowjob done for each othe…

Hot Summer Night at the Beach Ch. 04

John was still in another world it would seem dreaming about one of the girls whose image he kept in his wallet. He was mine but I wanted more. A few hours had passed and it was possible that the friends that had deposited John on the bench at the boardwalk had returned to their lodgings.



After disengaging myself I got out of the car and went around to the passenger door and opened it to give me a few last sure minutes of total access before getting John s slacks back in place without the protection of his Jockey shorts for the ride back into town. Before returning to the driver s seat I got the room key out of his pocket.



The back of the tag was embossed with a P.O. Box and the guarantee of postage if dropped in a letter box. On the front it had the hotel name and a house and unit #. A couple of the downtown hotels had bought up nearby summer lodging houses a number of years ago. They rented these two and three bedroom apartments with a kitchenette by the week or month only keeping their main rooms for shorter rentals. It appeared that the graduating seniors had booked one of these. One of the graduates had probably stayed there with family a previous Summer and booked it early for their graduation week at the beach. Or perhaps it was a graduation present from parents or grandparents.



Finding the location easily I drove around the block slowly. The area seemed dead enough so I pulled into an alley just to the side of their building. John was still out cold but I had no idea for how long. Opening the passenger door I turned his upper body so that I could slide him out onto the grass just behind a picket fence. I put his wallet back in his pocket and giving him a parting grope. I realized that I needed to pee badly so I got a large styrofoam cup out of the car and after filling it I prepared the next possibly necessary cover. Slowly I poured my own warm pee down the crotch and lower leg of John s chinos. At times I have even used a smaller quantity of my own pee on a drunk while he was in my car. If I am concerned that he may regain consciousness this provides a wonderful subterfuge and total confusion and embarrassment for him granting me not only greater control but an explanation of why I am trying to get him out of my car and or mopping up his crotch to keep it off of my upholstery.



I pulled the car to the other end of the alley and parked on the side street. I could hardly contain myself. Here I was with the key to who knew how many rooms and more importantly how many drunk and/or sleeping high school grads.



Always the good Samaritan if anyone was awake I would invoke their help getting John in. If not I would see how else I might help.



Walking back to the entrance with a last check on John I put the key in the lock and slowly released the latch. Opening the door I smelled vomit right off. The lights were all on in the living room as was the TV. On the sofa was a passed out young man with a Marine style buzz cut jeans and a white T-shirt. His head was hanging over the edge and whatever he had consumed over the last several hours that was not already in his blood stream was deposited on the floor beside the sofa.



Moving on to the bedrooms to know exactly who and what else I needed to contend with I found that this unit had three bedrooms. The one was empty. Another had the couple that had left John on the bench. There was no air conditioning and the windows were open. They were both breathing deeply on top of the covers. She in her bra and panties he in his white Fruit of the Loom briefs. The third bedroom had twin beds each occupied. The one young man was the one that had poked John in the car to see if he could talk with him earlier in the night. He was snoring loudly.



I should tell you that I have had several opportunities to explore the body of a drunk/sleeping young man when he was with his girlfriend and this is perhaps one of the most exciting experiences that I have ever had. There is something about a boy and girl being together obviously each with budding hormones pulling them together and then to have them both surrender by losing consciousness. Each has in a way forsaken the other and left not only themselves but their partner as well vulnerable to whatever fate or more specifically what I may choose to do with them.



Do you need to ask where I will begin? First however I went back through the rooms checking to see if I had missed anyone and to see that everyone was comfortable. Looking out the front door there did not appear to be anyone out on the street. I put the chain on this door so that I wouldn t be surprised by any more late arrivals. I also found that the kitchen had a door out the back which was not far from where I left John. There was no key for this door just a dead bolt. This could prove useful later. There was a cold pot of coffee by the sink. I helped myself to a large cup wanting to be at peak alertness.



Returning yes you were right to the young couple from the beach I watched their young bodies curled next to each other as I could only imagine what they have already experienced in their short lives. She clearly had gotten to party as she wanted and neither was feeling any pain. Both were breathing deeply in slow even rhythm. I placed my hand gently but firmly on his abdomen and just felt the warmth and movement for a while. It s at this stage that sometimes it is all I can do to keep myself calm enough and not just stand there shaking.



You may have gathered from what little you know of me so far that my excitement is heightened by knowing the name and something about my subjects. Also while I strongly believe that nothing ventured nothing gained and there is no way that any of this is without risk I also do not believe in taking unnecessary risk. I can t tell you how many possibly golden opportunities I have passed up or bailed out on to error on the side of safety. While looking back I sometimes regret and fantasize about what might have been. This caution has also kept me safe thus far and trust me I have not gone without my share of scores.



On several occasions I ve watched as someone else has picked up where I left off. Watching both with fascination and sometimes regret that I had not pushed ahead myself. Rarely have I joined in with someone that I did not know.



Enough background and back to the couple at hand. He had the nicest treasure trail down into his Fruit of the Looms. There was just enough light from a floor lamp on the far side of the bed to see his goods as I gently pulled his waistband out and down. His shorts and shirt were on the floor beside the bed. Reaching down I pulled out his wallet. His name was Bill and he was from the same High School and had been on the same teams as John. He was about four months older than John and slightly more developed. He had his girlfriend s high school I.D. in his wallet but she had gone to the Catholic School in the same town. Her name was Jennie. If only her parents knew what she left herself open to. All things considered it could have been much worse for her than to have had it be me. She would be a player but it was he that I would ravage given the chance.



Planning ahead always with alternate possibilities open to depending on how events worked out I considered their body placements. Facing each other as they were I decided to entrap his arms in her clothing. His right wrist I worked through and trapped in her bra his left hand I put down between her legs inside her panties. This would involve them with each other should I be interrupted by either of them coming around and cover my retreat.



Next I decided to get the Fruit of the Looms out of the way. He was on his right side so it would be easy enough to peal them off. Starting by turning down the waistband all the way around I placed my right thumb inside the waistband in the small of his back and my left thumb in his shorts with my wrist and left forearm against his tight abs. Slowly but surely pressing down into the mattress the underwear moved down three or four inches under his right buttock. This allowed me to start turning his briefs inside out from the top until his left cheek and pubes were exposed. Wanting him naked before I explored further I returned to the edge trapped under him and going back and forth worked carefully until I was pulling his only covering to his knees and then on off of first one leg and then the other.



This done I just had to gaze and catch my breath for a few minutes. My heart was racing and it was all I could do to calm myself enough to not shake.



I could not deny myself a brief whiff of the cotton that had held his crotch. Then quickly stashing them in a plastic bag for souvenirs I returned to the subject at hand. For a while my eyes took in everything while I started to gently stroke his entire body with my fingertips. He had what we would call today a perfect bubble butt. Smooth very little body hair anywhere on his body except in his pubes and armpits.



He had such full lips yet not too much and they parted easily as I pushed my finger in and felt his teeth. His jaw was slack and he started to snore a bit as I pulled it forward. Then I let my hand slide down his shoulder and side until I could move it in under his arm lock with Jennie. Exploring his taught abs and with no covering I could now snake my fingers through his long curly pubic hair and cup his manhood. He had a good five inches soft and although circumcised they had left him just a bit of skin. Given the time I could spend hours a this stage just imagining where his body has been what he has thought about when he spanked the monkey who has seen what I do now only Jennie? Teammates? Parents? Siblings?



But for now it is mine. Mine to posses and to change without his permission. I really do not like the look of a man that has shaved or trimmed his pubes too much. That is in part why the humiliation of finding himself that way wondering why how is such a turnon for me. Not to mention having something that personal together with his underwear for future jack off sessions.



Back to Bill he was a pleasure but then this was a night of treasures and not to be greedy I wanted a taste of it all. So I lifted his eyelid and seeing that he was far away I got out my scissors and started clipping off the red fluff that surrounded the still flaccid cock. I worked carefully but swiftly putting the hair in a small baggy as I went. I moved his upper leg just enough to get his scrotum free from his legs and the handling of his penis was starting to be just enough for him to become tumescent. I stroked him slowly with my left hand while I felt the smooth bubble but with my right.



Before I realized it I had started stroking his tight virgin sphincter and he was now rock hard. I covered my right index finger and my left palm with saliva and returned to my dual task. Gradually a slight moan escaped Bill s lips as my finger was admitted to his nomans land. His breathing was somewhat more rapid but still even and without a hint of his coming around. This was all autonomic reflex remote control or more accurately my control. His hard cock was now throbbing and I could tell that he was close to orgasm.



Then it happened just as Bill started to shoot I heard a noise in the hall as someone fell against the wall I froze as four five hard spurts of cum shot out of the turgid prick still in my hand. The next thing I heard was the toilet seat slamming and someone worshiping the porcelain god in the bathroom right next to this room in the hall.



Thank heavens I had pushed the bedroom door closed. I slowly stood up and tried to slow down my heart that was trying to jump out of my chest. Jennies left arm which was on the bed between them was covered in Bill s man seed. Too bad that she couldn t enjoy it. Not yet at least. I gathered everything together in case I needed to make a quick exit. I heard the toilet flush and I stepped into the bedroom closet for cover just in case.



The stumbling body came out of the bathroom with a slurred trail of speech talking to anyone no one himself and I could hear Damn couldn t you at least have made it to the bathroom? as he must have discovered the Marine type in the living room. This must be the the chap that had tried to awaken John back at the car by the boardwalk. He then came back up the hall and opened the bedroom door where I was and said Damn Bill you don t ever give up do you? He then went back in the bedroom across the hall and fell off the edge of the bed and started to snore.



I needed some fresh air. Taking my bag with me I closed Bill and Jennie s door behind be and went out the kitchen door to check on John. He had turned over on his stomach and was snoring away. Up the block I heard voices and they were not happy. The guy was wasted and trying to convince the girl he was with to stay with him. I could just make out as he tried to explain to her that his girlfriend s parents had not let her come at the last minute and that he had a double room. She was more sober appeared to be at least ten years older that he and said you re too drunk to do anything tonight anyway. I ll help get you to bed but then I ll see you tomorrow. It appeared that they might be coming to this house.



I slipped back inside. I quickly pushed in the button on both occupied bedroom doors and closed them then I took the chain off of the front door and retreated out the kitchen door to watch and wait. The woman was still arguing with the guy that would surely have fallen if he weren t leaning on her. Now standing directly in front of the house she said Bert you are in no condition to do anything much less to argue with me let s get you to bed. They went in the front door from which I had just left removed the chain.



After a familiar feel or two of John I walked to the car and added my new treasures to the ones already stowed. I walked around the block a couple of times to regain my composure and then slipped back behind the picket fence to wait and watch and enjoy John in the meantime.



In my plastic bag emptied of its earlier loot I had placed a couple of those throw away airline pillows. Gently and tenderly I placed one of these under John s head. I rolled him just enough to get the other under his abdomen so that he would be more comfortable.



to be continued…

Wolf Hudson gives Christian Owen a hard bondage fuck in the shower.

Marking Time

A young man alone in the city finds his only lifeline to the real world is AOL. Will he hook up with his new-found friend also alone in the city and staying at the same hotel or chicken out as before?



Warning–Because many people consider a story without an intimately detailed sex scene a complete waste of time I give advance warning that this story deals with sexually-generated angst not sex itself. Only read this story if you enjoy tales of indecision and anxiety.



* * * * *



I tried not to think about it. It wasn t easy. I was away from home for the first time and homesickness had bushwhacked the sense of independence I had expected .



The telephone rang and I picked it up. Hello?



Martin is that you?



Yes Mom. I kept any sound of relief out of my voice.



Are you okay?



Why wouldn t I be okay?



I was worried about you. You hadn t called me since yesterday.



It s only 4:40 Mom I pointed out. You re not even home yet.



She hesitated. I heard road noise in the background which meant she was probably still on I-270 heading north. I imagined what she was wearing what her day was like what she and Dad would have for dinner. In other words all things I usually never thought about.



More cautiously she asked: How did your interview go?



I didn t compare her to a nagging Jewish mother Actually I said. Not bad. The Human Resources guy was kinda cool. He had already seen two dozen people for the position but no one even near my age. My credentials impressed him.



Of course they did she said proudly which brought back my annoyance. I controlled it though.



He pretty much let on that I was ahead of the pack or at least high up in the running. I agreed to meet him and some other bigwigs for dinner tonight.



Oh Martin! she caroled. How wonderful! You wear your blue suit okay? No the brown one maybe with a blue–



Mom I warned.



Okay okay. Wear what you want to honey. I know you ll make the right decision. She sounded slightly wounded. Just make your best impression okay?



I always make a good impression Mom. You know that.



Her sigh was very motherly. I know. You make me so proud of you Martin.



I got her off the phone and unpacked my khaki Dockers and my light blue Ralph Lauren shirt and the blue and gray silk tie. I wanted to make an impression but of a relaxed and in-command applicant not an ass-kisser. Everyone at that place secretaries to the mail-room kid to the Executive VP s were a bunch of Class-A super-overachievers with 2×4 s the size of Saturn rockets shoved up their asses. The only cool person I d met that day was Tim the Human Resources guy–and he was probably trained that way.



I ironed my clothes took a shower put my clothes on and went downstairs to catch a cab. The hotel was on 55th Street the restaurant was on 40th. Maryland born and bred I knew as much about the Big Apple as I did Peoria Illinois.



I let the doorman flag down a taxi for me and gave the driver the name of the restaurant and the address. He got there in ten minutes but made enough turns to baffle a mapmaker.



Thank you I said getting out. Will I have much problem getting a cab back to the hotel later on?



He laughed–even his laughter had an accent–and he reminded me that I was white well-dressed and in the best part of town. You could fall off into the gutter at three a.m. and two dozen cabbies would try and pick you up. At least that s what I think he said. I tipped him five dollars and waved at him when he drove away. I like friendly people with a sense of humor–even foreigners.



Tim was waiting for me in the bar along with a sharply-dressed gentleman named Mr. Dyce. Mr. Dyce looked in his early forties and had shiny black hair. He looked Sicilian. I offered my hand and for exactly one second he tried to crush it. I couldn t help but flinch. They both laughed.



You ve heard of The New York Minute? Mr. Dyce said smoothly. Well that s The New York Second.



I flexed and shook my hand appreciatively. Don t tell me about The New York Hour then I joked.



Mr. Dyce lifted his hand for the bartender. Tim tells me your from D.C. he said. If the speed at which the attractive young lady reacted was any indication Mr. Dyce came here a lot. Or he owned the place. You re old enough to drink?



Since he asked in a tone not to embarrass me I answered with deference. Yes sir. To the bartender: Do you need my I.D.?



She smiled sweetly and shook her head. Then a diet-Coke I said.



She went to pour my soda and a third man entered the bar and joined us. This was someone I recognized from that afternoon. John somebody. A fish name. Pike?



This is John Hake Martin. You remember him? Tim asked.



I said I did and John and I shook hands. He was not a member of The New York Second club. John works in your department Tim advised.



He d be your boss Mr. Dyce clarified. If that s the eventual outcome .



The cute bartender return with my soda. I thanked her and held eyes with her for a New York Second longer than I should have. She smiled at me however but hid the smile from my companions.



I ll pay for dinner if that nudges the outcome in my direction I offered.



I told you he was a wit Tim said.



I had to keep my wit in check. A crack or two might amuse these guys but they were the makers and the shakers in this town and they didn t hire wits. They hired savvy and skill. I said The truth is I understand that I m very lucky to be here tonight. The fact you asked me is an ego-booster. But I also know that I wouldn t be here if I didn t have something important to offer the firm.



Mr. Dyce grinned. Tim beamed. Every tooth in his mouth shown one-hundred watts or brighter. John Hake said to me You really developed that Coca-Cola model in two weeks?



Actually I had developed the model in one week the rest of the time I spent learning Black Jack online. It wouldn t work in the real market I admitted. The algorithms were from an old General Dynamics engine donated to the university in 1999. I rewrote the formulas based on the Minnesota expressions developed by Dr. Fletcher s team in 2002. It was strictly conceptual. It lost money consistently.



Hake nodded. But nobody has a model that works any better than yours and they re all written by experts.



I failed on the cheap I conceded. You want to pay me big money to fail big time?



I want you to succeed Mr. Dyce said softly. Can you succeed Martin?



How the fuck do I know? I wanted to say. I m a godamned junior at a nondescript college in Maryland. I get by on student loans and an allowance from my parents. I m twenty-one years old and I ve never been laid. How the hell good I am?



If you have enough money I can make it work I said honestly. Enough money will make anything work. The question is do you have enough time?



How much time is enough? Mr. Dyce asked. There was no amusement in his manner now only consideration.



Three years. Not a Sunday less. On a New York Year budget. Five years on anything less.



Mr. Dyce scowled. Tim took half-a-step backwards. John Hake who had been vacillating between friendliness and rigidity in the presence of his boss scowled as well.



Three years? On a framework you wrote in two weeks? What kind of bullshit is that Martin?



My model was bullshit Mr. Dyce. The real thing is the Titanic with watertight bulkheads. You can blow four five modules and the thing stays afloat. Imagine a financial engine that makes money even when you program it to loose.



Dyce s scowl didn t lessen any but it didn t grow worse. Let s have dinner he said.



I ordered New York Strip Steak with a baked potato and Mr. Dyce and Tim both had Filet Mignon. John had a Surf & Turf dinner with a lobster tail the size of the Titanic. We drank a French wine who s name I couldn t pronounce desert was ludicrous.



So Martin. Mr. Dyce stretched back in his chair and made it obvious he wanted a cigar. You leave town when? Thursday morning?



Yes sir. The food in my stomach had me dopey and I didn t want to get into anything serious. Tomorrow morning I m booked on a tour of Lower Manhattan–



Ground Zero.



Yes I agreed. And the Bronx Zoo tomorrow afternoon.



What about tomorrow night?



I shook my head. Dyce glanced sideways at John Hake who nodded slightly. The Red Sox are in town he said. Tomorrow night and Thursday night. How would you like to go see them?



A Yankees-Red Sox game in September? They were number one and two in the division again. The Red Sox had won the World Series last year. Washington was in the cellar with only thirty-two wins but it was their first year in town.



Who s cock do I have to suck? I wanted to ask. I said That s a very generous offer Mr. Dyce. You could just as well let me sell the ticket instead and hold my first year s salary.



More like the first year and a half John Hake said somewhat unwisely. Mr. Dyce cut him a hard glance. I liked John so I accepted.



To my relief both Tim and Mr. Dyce had pressing appointments after dinner and had to run. John and I migrated to the bar where I hoped to see the attractive bartender again but she was gone. A little after nine he stood with me on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. The September evening was cool and clear just this side of crisp.



So what you have on for tonight? I asked.



Unfortunately he said checking his watch I have to be across the river in Jersey at ten o clock. My wife and I are buying a new condo there and we re meeting the broker. Sorry.



Only in The Big Apple I thought.



I bade him good night and caught the first cab I flagged. I considered asking the cabby where the nearest nightclub was but didn t have the courage. Being alone in New York City is no fun.



* * *



It was eleven o clock. I slouched in the surprisingly comfortable upholstered chair remote in hand channel surfing. My laptop was open on the table beside me on screen Microsoft Outlook awaited any messages. The six in my In Box had already been answered and I was bored.



I wanna get naked I said aloud. Actually what I wanted was to suck a cock.



Don t get me wrong–I m not gay. I ve never had sex with a guy and I don t find guys attractive. My problem is one of fixation. Since my first image of a girl sucking a cock I ve wanted to suck one too. I ve become addicted to certain newsgroups on AOL. You probably know which ones. Like any addict I both loath and cherish my addiction.



What I need is a personal Glory Hole. To the uninitiated a Glory Hole is a 4 diameter hole in any wall through which an erection can be placed. Of necessity it is generally located at groin level in one wall of a small cubicle usually in a sex shop. I ve never seen or been inside one but I have seen pictures. Once inserted in the hole an erection can be sucked anonymously by a man or a woman–or both–depending upon your predilection.



My perfect scenario would be a 7-1/2 long penis of a Caucasian male nicely pink of medium girth with a not-to-protuberant glans. The testicles should be large and droopy enough to allow for easy fondling. My perfect pair are distinctly mismatched one hanging lower than the other. The right testicle should be larger by half. In this perfect scenario no human being would exist on the opposite side of the wall.



I shifted uncomfortably in the chair adjusted my position. In deference to the situation I sat there in my jockey shorts and my tee-shirt. In defiance of the situation I had the curtains halfway drawn though what good this did on the fourteenth floor I don t know. The building opposite was only twelve stories tall. Taller buildings were visible in the distance to be sure but from any of them you d need high-powered binoculars. Then again this was New York.



I momentarily considered giving myself a little stroking action just on the off-chance you know but my penis said Forget it. It had no interest.



Why not go online? I had thought this earlier but lethargy kept me glued to the chair. Now it was eleven-fifteen and the idea had more appeal. I got up and sat down at the table.



The hotel was rigged for wireless. I started AOL selected my screename SimplMind100 and connected via TCP/IP. Where shall we go tonight? I wondered aloud.



I scanned through the member-created chat rooms and stared at M4MNYCHotels. My hand gave a tiny shake. I got a tiny little shiver. I clicked on the name and sat there a moment thinking.



Two months ago I had almost jumped. I started up a friendship with a guy named Sean (real name? Who knows?) from Baltimore that I met online. We hit it off the first night and progressed from touchy-feely chat to heavy duty cyber in less than an hour. I promised him my oral virginity and he committed his to me. We resolved to 69 each other in bed with a camera recording.



Arrangements were made after our third session and I got as far as the parking lot of the motel. This was in Columbia Maryland halfway between our homes. I sat in the car for half and hour berating myself for being a chicken in the end I just left. If he showed up for the liaison I never knew because I deleted my screename and blocked out his. I hadn t been in an AOL chat room since then.



I double-clicked M4MNYCHotels and went in.



* * *



What hotel you in?



I had been chatting with SPUDKNOCKER99 for ten minutes. His real name was Dan he was thirty-one years old he was married with two kids and in town trying to close a deal on pharmaceutical equipment. His hotel was in mid-town from what I d gathered.



The Clarendon I lied. On 53rd.



Close he came back but no cigar. Maybe if I looked out my window I could see you. Try waving LOL.



My window faces east. Should I stand there naked?



PLEASE NO! LOL. Let me keep something to the imagination. So far I had told him my age and my general description my reason for being here and how long I was staying. I m at the Westbridge on 55th he wrote.



I shivered mightily. He was here? At my hotel? Thank God I had lied!



I could hop on over on my twinkle toes I told him. Spray you with my fairy dust.



Keep typing like that and I ll rip the hard drive out of my computer sonny boy.



My penis had discovered its missing blood supply and was struggling for freedom. I kept it where it was. How hard is it really? And how large? Does it ever give you a laptop dance?



I ll laptop dance you boyo. You ll doing the dancing of course.



He knew I was a closet flautist. He knew I joked about more. He was Bi but with very limited experience. So far his experience was at the mouths of two other men.



A laptop dance is something I might enjoy sometime I told him. Given the right circumstances.



Think you ll ever take the leap? he came back seriously.



I explained about Sean. Apart from being an asshole about it I typed that s closer than I ever imagined I d go. What about you? How did you hook up?



Good old reliable AOL. Just like this only with some chance of success LOL.



If only he knew. I shivered and typed: How big are you? The real version as opposed to the AOL version.



I didn t dare lie about that not when I d be meeting the potential blow job later on LOL. My REAL size is 8 long thick with very large veins and I get an angry red when I m hard. I m cut with a moderately big head. You?



Embarrassed I confessed. Six inches on a really good night. Normal thickness. Takes a hook to the left. Care to rent me your package tomorrow night? For my own use with the ladies?



Would rather you try the goods yourself but sure. Visa Mastercard or American Express accepted. And cash of course. Rent by the hour?



How about a one-year lease?



Sorry the lease-holder is my wife. And she never sublets. A one-night opportunity here Marty take it or leave it.



I ll take it I replied. I m upstairs in room 1412. I sat back to wait. I shook like a bamboo shack in an earthquake.



His response was immediate. I know you re joking. You wouldn t be that cruel. Actually just joking about it is cruel LOL! I have a very large erection in my hand and it nearly got yanked off!



I am so shameless I wrote. I need to be taken over my knee and given a good paddling.



On your bare ass buster.



How did you know my ass is bare?



Lucky guess. An informed guess.



My erection demanded its freedom in no uncertain terms. My heart beat like an elephant s heart: thud-whump thud-whump thud-whump. When was I this aroused? Certainly not since Sean.



Your guess is only half-informed I told him. Physically my shorts are still on mentally they ve been pitched out the window. In other words my bottom is psychologically ready for a good spanking.



LOL! You re killing me. I wasn t kidding about my erection. It s ready to rock and roll. It would react very favorably to seeing your ass getting paddled.



I m trying to think the last time that actually happened to me. I think I was ten. I ve never gotten it bare-bottomed before that was reserved for my sister. She s seventeen now.



Ever get to see it?



They did it to her in her bedroom. I could hear it though which turned me on immensely.



I bet it did. How old was she when they stopped?



Stopped?



LOL again. I keep setting myself up don t I? Is your sister hot?



I prefer to think of her as cuddly. She s blonde has blue eyes still wears braces on her teeth–which just drives her nuts but which I think is cute–and she has a nice figure. And no I ve never seen her nude so don t ask.



DARN! Skunked again. Would you like to though?



He caught me. I had often wanted to see Kierney nude had seen her countless times braless in stuff that let her nipples protrude had seen her in outfits like a tank-top and gym-shorts which clearly defined her developing breasts and left her thong panties exposed–I had even seen her in her bra and panties. I typed: Every day and every minute. Like an introduction? You d have to wait six months to bang her though she s still a minor.



Her twenty-one year old brother would do just fine.



I almost told him then. I almost placed my fingertips on the keys and typed I was lying about 53rd Street. Come up here and fill my mouth with your erection please! Instead I let my blood pressure settle again. I m curious. Did either of your guys let you cum in their mouths?



One did he replied. The second one. His name was John Smith and I kid you not. I even looked at his license. The first guy s name was Ted but I won t tell you his last name. He let me come on his chest but John wanted it all. He masturbated me the second time we did it right into his own mouth. Then he swallowed. The first time he spat it into the toilet but the second time he swallowed it. (I enjoy saying that LOL.)



So I gathered. I ve swallowed my own cum before. Does that excite you? Or turn you off?



It EXCITES me stupid! (You re not stupid sorry.) Tell me about it.



Well I typed I usually do a couple of spurts at a time. I get myself to the brink of ejaculation (not always on purpose LOL) and shoot into my palm. I don t actually cum so I m still turned on enough that I can slurp it up with my tongue. I do this two or three times before the main event but if I m lucky or really intent on enjoying myself I ll do it over and over until I ve easily had two or three sperm-loads.



I didn t know what this bit of information did to my friend but it agonized me. I squirmed in my chair.



I m currently freehanded he wrote. The concept of you enjoying yourself was just too much. Either I let go of it or it made goo-goo all over me. I wouldn t want that because like yourself cumming extinguishes my fire. Right now I want that flame hot as a blowtorch. Anyway what other pleasantries might you employ in your quest for enjoyment?

This was the Daily Double the question I d been steering him toward. I wasn t even sure I had done it consciously . . . just following my cock maybe.



I have this other fixation. Two months ago I went to this sex-shop around the Beltway from my house–its in Beltsville the Lower East Side of Maryland. I was so embarrassed it took two trips just to get in the front door. When I did get in I kept my eyes off what I had gone there to see instead browsing the magazine racks. I settled for a prepackaged set of girly mags. They were so poor quality and I was so pissed I didn t even beat off to them. I just threw them away.



Two days later I forced myself back to the place and was astonished at what I saw. Covering one entire wall and part of another was the most amazing collection of dildos you can imagine. They had long ones black ones two-headed ones green and red ones in Dayglo colors they had dildos two feet long and midget dildos. They had dildos you strapped onto your body and dildos you put batteries in and dildos with knobs and ticklers. They had–well you get the idea. They had so many dildos I couldn t possible make a choice much less an informed one. Then I saw this row of flesh-colored dildos in varying sizes all from the same manufacturer. They looked exceptionally real and even had testicles. They re called Ballsy Cocks.



The largest one nearly took my breath away. It was an incomprehensible fourteen inches long and thick as a forearm. At the other end of the scale was one six inches long and slightly thicker than myself. The head was beautifully formed like a Triceratops head. The tip had a distinctive opening that looked like a real pee-hole and it was ridged along the shaft by veins. I had never seen anything so beautiful.



I took it down with shaking hands and carried it over to the counter on rubbery knees. I put it into a Plexiglas carousel like you see at a bank–the counter area was completely enclosed in Plexiglas–along with a twenty dollar bill. The guy paid no attention at all shooting the shit with some old man. I took the dildo home with me and on the weekend when I didn t have to worry about being bothered I put it to good use. And now you know.



His reply was a moment in coming. Define good use Martin.



I think you already know I replied.



Again a pause. Did you enjoy it? Would you enjoy the real thing you think?



With numb and shaking fingers I answered: I think I would enjoy you Dan.



And then I told him he could find out for sure by taking the elevator to the 14th floor and knocking on the door to room 1412. I am waiting to find out myself and oh boy am I scared.