Cute College Kid Empties his Balls

 Near Home—December, 2025

 

My last sexual escapade of the year was on the day before New Year’s Eve.  The long and varied sex I’d had on the previous Saturday kept me content for two whole days.  But off I went on a Tuesday afternoon, not sure I’d find many people there—and not really caring.  I just needed to get out of the house…

 

There are a few cars in the lot.  I go in, buy my ticket and chat with the clerk (who considers me a friend.) I go into the darkened room.  There are three men here.  Two are on their phones.  The other watches the straight screen but looks like he could fall asleep at any moment.

I sit in my usual chair and unzip.  I stroke.  The other men are oblivious to me.

Fifteen minutes later, nothing has changed.  One phone is particularly annoying as the owner has not muted it—and his message arrival chime is going off constantly.

The door opens.  In walks Cute College Kid.  I have known him from here for at least five years, maybe more like eight.  He is no longer in college, but he is one of the youngest men I play with regularly.  He has let his dark hair grow out from being closely cropped and it suits him.  He has a tattoo on his wrist and one on his side.  He used to have thick black framed glasses.  They have been gone awhile now, replaced with contacts. 

He smiles when he sees me and takes the chair to my right.  In moments, he stands up and takes off his pants and briefs, folding them and tucking them under his chair.   He sits and strokes himself hard.  Then he stands up and kneels in front of me.  He begins by licking my balls.  He moans in the back of his throat, loving the manscent of them.  He licks every inch of them, before taking one and then the other into his mouth. 

Now his tongue snakes up my shaft.  He ovals big and swallows me down.  Not to the base, but about two thirds of me.  Over and over again.  He pulls off me for a deep breath, with a satisfied look on his face.  He stands up and offers me his cock.  I lean forward and take his regulation sized dick to the hilt.  CCK steps back, pulling out of me.  He glares at the guy with the annoying phone, who is now watching us.  CCK grabs his clothes and goes around the corner and sits near the gay screen, out of the guy’s sight.  I follow.

He is sitting with his legs splayed and slowly jerking his dick.  It’s my turn to kneel between his legs.  I do the same routine he did, starting with his more diminutive balls, up his shaft and engulfing his drooling cock head.   I suck him for a bit like this, then go back to his balls.  I try to go under them—as I know he loves me to rim him—but today he pulls me up with a quick shake of his head.  I get the message—no time for him to prep today.  I go back to his cock.  “Balls,” he whispers.  He strokes himself as I lick his moderately hairy nuts.  His left hand grabs the back of my head.  At first it pulls me into his ball sack—but now it’s guiding me up.  I know what this means—he’s about to shoot.  I take his full length into my throat.  As I pull up to his flared head, he explodes.  It’s always a big load with him.  He moans and pants.  I swallow every drop.

I get up and sit in my chair.  He gets on his phone for about ten minutes.  I watch the video, but keep an eye on him.  The moment the phone goes down and he grabs his cock, I know he’s ready for round two.  I go back and offer him my cock to suck as he strokes.  He does, for a moment, but soon indicates I need to take his cock again.  I kneel.  I skip his balls and go right to swallowing the shaft.  I work it three or four time and am treated to his second load—almost as big as the first.  Creamy and sweet.  I lick him clean—and he quickly gets his pants back on.  He smiles and squeezes my shoulder on the way out the door…

*

I stay a little longer, though I doubt I will get any more play.  The man who is on his phone without the annoying sounds seems to have made a connection.  He waits, looking at the door, seemingly for someone to arrive.  A good-looking older man in his 50’s comes in.  Phone guy, who is pushing 40, takes one look at this guy, gets up and leaves.

The new man sits next to me, shaking his head.  It’s not long before he asks if I want some head.  I nod and he gives me very good head indeed.  I return the favor.  He is so turned on from sucking my cock, I get his load just minutes later.

He takes off.

I stroke for a moment more, but soon decide I’d rather go home and get that pork chop under the broiler…

Farewell, 2025!

Bookstore Saturday 2: Big Dicks

 (This picks up right where the last post stopped…)

Jackson—December, 2025

After the hot mouthed bearded man left, I wander around.  In one of the cabanas, with the curtain still open is a grey-haired man I recognize from here.  He loves to cross dress and today is no different, he is in hose and garter belt.  They show off his bubble butt as much as any jockstrap.  I have fucked him before and know he’s got a talented hole.

He bends, holding onto the side of the cabana, the moment he sees me.  I step in, not bothering to shut the curtain.  I grease my dick and slide in.  He groans.  I don’t fuck him long, for I want to taste his ass.  I pull out.  Damn.  I lean in and whisper he needs to do another rinse.

And he argues with me.  Never mind his shit is all over my dick.

I sigh and go to the restroom.  He follows, telling me he’s just got here after his clean out.  He shuts up as he sees my dick in the light.  I wash—and decide lunch may be a better option.  I go out to my car and there is the note from the bearded guy with his name and phone number.  I sit in my car and eat.  In the rearview mirror, I see the grey-haired guy come out and get in his car, to go home to clean once more.  I finish up and go back inside. 

I end up sitting in the lone chair in the same room as the medical exam table.  I stroke.  A man comes in.  It’s the Marathoner. 

(I have known him for years.  Longer than I’ve been writing the blog.  He got his nickname as he ran.  A lot.  And it kept him rail thin.  He’s slightly thicker now. When we met, pre-PrEP, he did very little.  I tried to suck his cock, but it was huge.  The head would not fit in my mouth.  He wanted to fuck me with a condom.  I told him no.  We settled on me eating his ass.  And he loved it.  No, LOVED it.  That’s what we always did at his house; he never came to mine.  I took my rimseat and he was in heaven, always busting a load on my chest.  We stopped seeing each other when he got in a relationship with a cute bottom.  I have seen him at this establishment before, but not for a couple of years.  With PrEP, he’s become more versatile.)

He greets me and hauls out his cock.  I lick his balls as he strokes it.  I try once again to take him.  Nope, he’s thicker than Keshawn.  A man comes in.  He’s younger than the two of us, likely early 40’s.  He is Black, slightly cubbish and opens his fly as he watches us play.  And he’s hung thick, too.  Not very long, but very girthy.  He strokes.  He goes down on me as I lick the Marathoner’s balls again.  We rotate with each other.  I can just get the Thick Guy in my mouth.  Thick Guy can j-u-s-t get the Marathoner in his mouth.  The Marathoner goes back and forth sucking our cocks. 

Another man comes in and the Marathoner takes off.  He does not like an audience.  Thick Guy and I trade off a little more and then take a break as he doesn’t want to shoot yet.

I wander.  The Marathoner pulls me into a cabana and shuts the curtain.  “You need to eat my ass.”  He strips off his pants and underwear.  He kneels on the built in bench, presenting me with his hairy butt.  I kneel and begin to tongue him.  He moans.  I do every trick I know.  I go up and down his hairy cleft.  I burrow in slowly.  I tongue fuck him.  I lick and spit.  He stops stroking and pulls his ass cheeks apart.  I go deeper into him.

“Stand up.”  I do.  So does he.  He grabs my cock and guides it into his hole.  “Get my hole open.”  I am in him three inches or so.  Deeper than ever.  He pulls me out and I eat him out again.  My tongue can go deeper now—and he is groaning.  He stands up and we do the poke my cock in his hole thing again.  Four inches in.  I go back to eating him out.

“I’d let you fuck me but I didn’t clean deep…” he murmurs.  This makes my balls juice up my cock with a ton of precum.

He is stroking faster.  His first shot hits the bench.  He swings around and the second shot hits my nose.  The rest goes on the floor, dammit.  He thanks me and takes off, after some vague ‘let’s get together’ type comments.

I find Thick Guy out by the medical table again.  He is standing next to a very young white man.  Thick Guy has his dick out.  I pull mine out.

“I don’t dare show you my tiny dick,” says the young man.

We encourage him.  He reluctantly unzips.  “I know I’m not like you alpha males…”

It is a four-inch dick of pretty typical thickness.  Thick Guy reassures him that it’s fine.

“No, it’s small and I know it.  My wife makes fun of me.”  His dick wilts a little.  Thick Guy rolls his eyes at me and takes off.  I think I know what this guy wants.

“Look at my big dick.”  He does.  “Now stroke yours.  Show off that tiny cock…”

He’s hard again.  I lean in and whisper really filthy insults about his smaller dick.  He gets harder with every sentence. 

We are both stroking faster.   

“Cum for me.  Look at my big dick and shoot…”

He erupts.  All over the floor.  He looks at me.  “You’re a great Dom.  My wife would love to see you do that to me. Thanks.”

I nod and offer him a piece of paper towel…

I wander.

Thick Guy is in a cabana.  He beckons me in.  “I want to take off.  Will you suck me off?”

I go to my knees.  I open wide.  Really wide.  It’s not so much sucking as he just fucks my open mouth.  But that thick cock going over and over my tongue is doing just what he wants. 

“Here it comes.   Do you want it?”

I make some sort of affirmative sound.  He begins to shoot.  At first a dribble.  Then a torrent.  I can barely keep up.  I close my lips around him as I don’t want to lose any.  It seems to make him feel even better—and the cum just keeps on coming…

Bookstore Saturday: The Man with the Wonderous Beard

 Jackson—December, 2025

 

I was on the hunt again, the day after I’d fucked Julian.  I changed my hunting ground.  I went to the bookstore which is slightly farther away.  It is the one that has the glory hole closets, private cabanas and the medical table. 

It was a Saturday, just before noon.  And the men who had been on good behavior with their families for the holidays were out and ready for some fun…

 

I go into the dark lounge.  I have to stop as the door shuts behind me.  I really can’t see.  I inch my way forward, touching the partition to my right.  Five more steps and I move past the partition and I can now see, thanks to the light from the television screens mounted high on the wall.  There is grand mix of porn showing.  There are men everywhere.  I move through them, to my right and towards some seating where you can see four of the different screens.  The chairs, on one side, are full.  I sit on the low couch on the other side.  Men are milling everywhere—but no sex is happening in public.  The curtained cabanas are unoccupied, but the glory hole booths/slurp ramp set up behind me seems busy.

A chair that I prefer becomes available.  I move over, sit and unzip.  A guy in the matching chair nods to me and watches me unzip and pull out my meat.  I get it hard.  Just as the guy seated with me is about to ask, Shaved Head, half of the couple I see at my regular haunt, appears.  He touches my dick and kneels.  We are the only public sex—and the men stop milling to watch us.

Shaved Head is enjoying showing off.  He makes a point of pulling off my cock and catching his breath—show me off to the crowd and letting the men know he can take the big ones.  He goes back down on me and does some repeated deep throating.  He comes up, grabs some air and begins to do his usual suck routine.  He is perfect warm up head.  He squeezes my knee as he gets up, by way of a thank you.

“Do you mind if I take a turn?” 

It’s the guy sitting next to me.  He’s somewhere between 40 and 50 and in decent shape.   I say ‘sure.’

“My knees are bad; would you mind standing in front of me?”

I get up and present my wet cock to him.  He reaches out and grabs me in a death grip.  His mouth is fine, covering the first few inches.  His tongue feels good, but he is squeezing the base of my cock so hard I have to ask him to stop.

“Oh, did I nick you?  Sorry, I was trying to be really careful.”

“No, it was how tightly you were squeezing me.”

“I’ve often been told my teeth get in the way,” he responds, having heard nothing of what I’ve said. 

I put my dick away and go for a tour.  Men are everywhere.  One of the curtained alcoves is now in use—I can hear the sounds of sex through the fabric.  In the farthest room, I surprise a blow job happening in front of the medical table.  I leave them to it.  I go back towards the slurp ramp.  Two glory holes are in use, with guys plastered to the wall, their dicks in the holes.  One is available.  I stick my hard cock through it.  A soft hand caresses it.  Nice.  Wait—that soft hand is stroking me, not guiding me to his hot, wet mouth.  I wait a moment, but it remains a jerk off.  I pull out with a sigh.  I wander a little more and end up in a small room with a couch, chair and good porn.  I sit in the chair and stroke.

A dozen men walk by, stop, look and keep on going.  No one ventures in until finally a large, older man sits on the couch.  He pulls out his dick and strokes.  He loves the porn right in front of him.  He also loves to turn his head and watch me stroke.  I expect him to ask to suck me at any moment.  And yes, he’s standing up.  But he’s not coming to suck me, he’s standing up to shoot.  He splatters a big load all over the floor.

He suddenly looks embarrassed, crams his sticky dick into his pants and heads next door to the restroom.

Damn, I’d have liked that load…

I stroke. 

A tall lanky man, with a longer than usual beard, steps into the room.  He stands by my side.  “That’s a beauty.  May I?”

“Please.”

He kneels—and I am treated to some of the best head possible.  The guy loves dick—and shows it.  He has to have had hundreds in his mouth to get to be this much of a pro.  The tongue.  The suction.  His volume of spit and throat slime.  And his beard.  It caresses my balls one minute and tickles the shaft of my cock that next.  I can’t get enough.  I find myself being very vocal.  It eggs him on.

Finally, he pulls off and stands up to rest his knees.  The spit on my cock is shiny as it catches the light off the television screen.  “Could you take your pants off?” he asks.  “I need to work on your balls.”

Instantly, I stand up and drop them to my ankles.   I thought what he’d done with my nuts before was terrific, but if he wants more…

I sit back down.  He kneels.  He licks my cock from the drooling head, down the engorged shaft to my full, damp balls.  He lifts them and begins licking on either side of my cockring.  Fuck!  My secret place—and I didn’t have to tell him.  He licks and spits and licks it all up.  He goes lower.  He is flirting with my asshole, but not quite going there.  He moves upwards with his tongue:  perineum, balls, cockring, shaft and the slippery head.  I have stopped thinking and just luxuriated with his tongue.  As he reaches the top of my dick, his beard is all over my balls and shaft.  It feels wonderous…

“I want you to fuck my throat.”

“Sure.”

We try it with him hanging his head over the arm of the sofa.  It’s fine.  But he wants to be naked when I do it, so he suggests a cabana.  We find a free one.  He strips.  He gets on the padded bench, his legs on the back wall and his head hanging over the edge.  It’s a little low for my long legs, but we make it work.  I pump into him a few swallow strokes and then go deep.  I pull out long strands of his deep throat spit.  I wrap them around my cock and face fuck him again.

We do it five or six times before he has to swing around.  His cock is rampant.  I sit and he works over every inch of my cock and balls once more. 

He pulls off me.  “I could shoot.” 

“Well, give it me when you do.”

He grins.  He attacks my cock once more, his beard all over my wet and sticky balls.  He gags himself on purpose.  He quickly stands up and feeds me his cock.  He gets it into my mouth just in time.  It’s a massive load and rather sweet.  He lets me get every drop off of him.

“I really want to get fucked by you, but I didn’t prep for today.”

I nod.

“If you give me your phone,” he adds, “I’ll give you my number.”

“It’s locked in my car.  I can put it in yours…”

Well, his phone is locked in his car, too.  “A note?”

“Sure.”  I tell him the color and make of my car—and he will leave his info on the windshield.

I smile.  I would love a naked re-match with this man sporting the hot beard…

*

There is so much more.  I didn’t think this would be a two parter, but we are just halfway through my time there….stay tuned!

Finding Julian

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Christmas Eve: Load after Load

 Near Home—December, 2025

I have often written on here how sometimes good sex makes me incredibly satiated and other times it can make me crave more.  I loved playing with Rudy—especially introducing him to my playroom for the first time.  That afternoon was all about his glorious ass and all the things that went into it:  my tongue, my dick, my fingers, both hands and some toys for good measure.  I slept incredibly soundly that night. But I woke up wanting more.

I knew this was silly.  It was Christmas Eve.  No one would be available.  I wasn’t sure the bookstore was even open.  But then I thought about all those men who have no where to go for the holiday.  I went. 

The parking lot was surprisingly full…

 

I am buzzed into the dark room.  There must be a dozen men here.  None of whom I’ve ever seen before.  Some are just watching the porn.  A few are stroking.  There is a blow job happening in the back corner.

Well, well…

I sit in my usual chair.  There is an older man next to me.   His weathered hands are all over his tented pants.  The moment I take out my dick, his hands are all over me.  He strokes me gently with his very soft fingers.  He occasionally whispers things to me—about my dick, about the girl on the screen, about the men on the side wall who go from mutual masturbation to one sucking the other. 

“That looks good,” he says of the guys now playing.

“Do you want to suck me?”

“I’ve never done that.”  He stops stroking me and unzips his pants.  His very small penis pokes out.

“Do you need me to suck you?”

“Would you?”  The disbelief in his voice makes me a little sad.

Without a word I move to the floor and take him in my mouth.  He shoots almost instantly.  I lick him clean.  When he can breathe again, he thanks me and leaves.

The guy who was sucking gets up to give his knee a rest. He hasn’t got the guy off.  The guy with a now wet seven-incher is in his 70’s and waves me over.  “See if you can get me off.”  I go to work.  Every time I deep throat him, he gushes precum.  It’s like a waterfall sluicing down his dick.  I have never felt anything like it.  Again and again—but it’s not an ejaculation.  But it’s tasty—and make him groan every time.  I keep it up until my knees are screaming at me, but I can’t truly get him off.  He thanks me and goes back to jerking to the straight porn.  I may not have technically swallowed a load, but it feels like it.

The door opens and a new guy comes in.  He’s dressed a little nice for this room.  Did he come from a Christmas Eve service?  He is my age and has an engaging smile.  He sits next to me and introduces himself as Tom.  He opens his fly and takes out his uncut dick.  The moment he’s hard, he asks if he can suck me.

“Sure.”

Tom kneels and goes to work.  His mouth is great.  And it’s nice to finally have someone on me.

A man sitting near the gay screen stands up.  He walks to my side.  His cock is out and rampant.  He’s thick.  Really thick.  “Open your mouth…” he whispers.

I do.  Tom never stops sucking me as this fat dick fucks my face.  The guy in my mouth isn’t here for the sucking, he’s here to deliver his load.  In record time he’s grunting out his pleasure as his cock fires spurt after spurt of hot jizz down my throat.  He leaves his dick in my mouth so I can clean it thoroughly.  I do.  I want every drop.  When he pulls out, Tom looks up at me and we both grin.

Tom takes a break.  “Great dick, man,” he says as he sits next to me.  But not for long.  He decides to see what the incredible precummer is all about.  He kneels and gets the same mouthfuls of precum I did.  Still.  The guy is truly a fountain.

I stroke.

There is a man sitting off to the side of me where you can only see the straight movie.  He has his hand inside his pants and is obviously stroking.  He loves the action of older men on younger women on the screen.  He has been stroking now for over an hour.  Suddenly he takes his dick out of his pants.  He turns and looks at me.  With his free hand, he points to the floor between his legs.

Well, fuck!  I go over and kneel.  Once again, it’s no work.  I am just the sperm receptacle.  And that makes me very hard.  He shoots a big load, having worked so long on it.  I get every last drop.

He takes off—without needing to rinse his dick—and I sit back down. 

Success! I hear a groan to my left.  Tom has gotten the precummer to full orgasm.  He sits back down next to me, very pleased with himself.

“Thanks, gents!” chortles the Precummer, as he goes out the door.

A new man comes in.  He’s a guy I know from here.  I used to suck him behind the door back when this place had two theatres—and always in the gay one.  He used to play with my ears as I did it.  He waves me over and I go to work.  But I can’t get him there.  Tom comes over and I ask him to take a turn.  I stay on my knees and we share this guy’s dick—back and forth.  It’s hot—but we wear the guy out.  His erection finally fails him before he can shoot a load.  But he thanks us for the great effort.  He takes off.

It's getting late.  Tom and I are sitting side by side again. I stand up and begin to fuck Tom’s mouth.  He is loving this.  A brown bottle appears.  He pauses to take a massive hit, then hands it to me.  I take a short one.  I am really fucking his face now.  And his moans fill the now deserted space.

“You want this load?” I pant.

He can’t answer but for some sort of affirmative grunt.

“You worked hard for this…” I say, building the thrusting. Suddenly I push into him and I begin cumming.  I can’t stop.  As spurt follows spurt, my mind replays every load shot into my own mouth tonight.

I try to pull out, but Tom grabs my balls and keeps me there.  He cleans my cock as I squirm and moan.

I look down.  I can’t be sure, but I think he’s cum himself…

*

A final note that might have gotten in the way of the narrative.  The precummer considers himself mostly straight.  He talked to Tom and I about how his wife loved his juices.  He also told us, he cannot find a woman to suck his cock, now that he’s 77.  He thanked us repeatedly and made a point of saying he now loves gay men for caring enough to take care of him.

History: Rob

 My college journal ended on that second trip to Stratford with Theo.  I did like reading my thoughts recorded right at the moment things were happening.  It was also good to see my notes about gay venues that no longer exist.  And occasionally, I found that my memory of events was not quite as it happened…

Fall, 1977.  It’s a new school year—and an important one.  Theo and I were rooming together.  I had been in two newer dorms on campus for the first two years.  For year three, I moved to an older one that was co-ed by floor and for people who had a high grade point average.  The drama department pulled strings so Theo could join me there as a freshman.

The newer dorms had quads—four guys in two rooms, connected by a bathroom.  At the honors dorm, Theo and I had separate bedrooms with a joint study area and the bathroom was down the hall.  The showers were communal—and I learned to really appreciate the eye candy.

Theo and I were now friends.  Good friends.  I no longer mooned over him (or not much—and even less after our first weeks together.)  It was great to live with a man who shared my passion for theatre and who was gay.  My brother had thoughtfully given me all the hardcore magazines (the ones I had found when he returned from college) to keep me aroused when I needed a quick wank.

I was cast in a new three person musical that fall.  It was a big deal for me—the largest role the school had entrusted me with so far.  The young woman was from my high school and we loved working together.  The other man was slightly older than the two of us.  Rob was originally from England.  He was funny and gregarious—and everybody on campus loved him.  He hosted a classical music program on the university radio station with that very posh English accent that he could still turn on whenever he wanted.  Rob was funny and knew how to get a laugh on stage.  We were great scene partners.

We walked to the neighborhood bar after rehearsals.  Normally, I would have bowed out, but this was such a small group, I found I could actually have a good time there—despite being raised by two teetotalers.  I could nurse my one scotch forever. 

Rob kissed everyone goodbye.  And I mean everyone, straight, gay bi, young, old.  It was his schtick.  He loved the consternation of the set construction guy as a man kissed him on the lips for the first time.  My kiss was occasionally at the bar when I left earlier than the others or sometimes at the door of my dorm if Rob and I left the bar at the same times.  It never felt sexual—it was just him.  I liked the guy. 

The show we were working on had been an Off-Broadway show and we were the first production anywhere else after it closed.  The authors came to see it when it opened in November—and loved how we’d approached the material.  And the show, after it’s run, never quite closed.  Pieces of that production were dragged out for any and every University occasion that needed entertainment: a talent show, entertainment at an alumni banquet, a professor’s retirement, on and on.

After one performance in March of the next year, Rob, who had a car, dropped me off in front of my dorm.  I got out.  He got out.  He lightly kissed me goodnight and drove off.  I stood there.  I don’t know what changed.  But I didn’t go inside for the longest time. When I did, I couldn’t sleep.  The next night, on the pretext of needing help with some music, I went to his apartment.  And stayed…

That night we talked like we had never talked before.  We both loved musical theatre and he introduced me to Gilbert and Sullivan.  I taught him Cole Porter.  We both worshiped Stephen Sondhiem. 

The conversation drifted to the personal.  I shared my coming out to my brother.  He had lost his virginity to an American girl who was at his college in England.  He came to America to marry her.  It had not lasted long.  He was currently fucking a divorcee who he’d met doing some community theatre in a nearby town.  But he loved men—and being 3662 miles from his family had helped him come out.  

We fell into bed together.  He was an oral guy and knew how to satisfy my big dick, which he couldn’t stop talking about.  I had met my match in cock sucking.  He knew the same tricks I’d instinctively picked up.  And then he flipped me over and ate my ass.  I don’t think anyone else had ever done it.  If Mike rimmed me during the times he fucked me, it was just for a moment to get my hole wet, not the luxurious tonguing Rob gave me.  Then he rolled me back over and we sixty-nined.  Rob took no time to shoot.  Even then, it took me ages.

I slept over.  We had morning sex—and I made it home to shower and get to class.  I spent every night now in Rob’s bed.  We tried everything.  He hated to get fucked for a gay couple had raped him one night when he went home with them.  But he was game to try it with me.  And hated it—especially with my size.  But now we knew.  We tried it the other way around.  It was no better for me.  I knew I wasn’t a bottom.  And our mouths were everything we needed…

Theo was nonplussed.  I think he was sure that he’d have a boyfriend before I did.  But he was happy for me.  Mostly.  And he loved Rob like everyone else in the theatre department.

Easter arrived and I was expected home on the Saturday before.  I took Rob.  My mother asked if she should make up the hide-a-bed sofa.  I told her there was a double bed in my room and he was happy to bunk with me.  Fine.  That was it.  We never had any other kind of coming out talk.  He was just there—and of course he charmed them.  Including my brother.  It was great fun to have silent sex in the family bed that night.

At school, we were both in a production of Ceasar and Cleopatra that spring.  That kept us working together.  I slept at his house almost every night.  Occasionally, if he was really hitting the scotch, I stayed at the dorm.  We talked a lot.  About us.  Were we a couple?  Just friends?  (I don’t think in 1978 we were using fuckbuddies…)  We had no idea.  It was new to both of us. 

With the end of the semester—there was a guaranteed break.  We both had our first professional theatre gigs.  Rob’s was in northern Michigan and I was flying down to Texas.  I finally said I hoped our relationship would continue next year.  He agreed, but wisely said we should let the summer happen and see how things went.  We were smart enough (and knew each other well enough at this point) that we agreed we could and should have sex with others when we needed it, as we were 1200 miles apart.

My emotions were all over the place as I packed up the dorm.  One moment, I didn’t want to leave Rob; the next, I couldn’t wait to start my first paying theatre job. I wanted to live with him for my senior year, but I couldn’t read how Rob felt about it.

I was waiting on the front steps of the dorm for my dad to arrive and take me home.  Rob pulled up, packed for his adventure up north.  We said goodbye and wished each other luck.  The tears didn’t come until his car disappeared from sight... 

Furry Photos to Warm You Up on a January Morning

 

I know I owe you a sexual history post.  But I didn’t want to break up the three posts about Rudy and the Devil’s Dick.  I knew that today I was going to be out of the house, so I told myself to write what should be today’s post on Monday.  Well, it turned out I had a HOT fuck and fist session with Sawyer instead.  And actual sex always wins out over writing about it.

This particular post is an easy one to keep putting off as it had real consequences—and I want to get the telling just right.  Well, I should have time on both Wednesday and Thursday morning to do just that.

So, you get some fun pictures today instead.  I don’t think you’ll actually mind very much…