The Dreamer's Tale

“Hey, what’s up?” I heard from the doorway of my room.  I had been hunched over a chemistry book studying before the interruption by a dorm mate, Ronnie. 

“Hey, yourself,” I replied.  “What’s up with you?” 

“Ah, just bored,” he replied.  “I’m thinking about going for a drive out by the lake.  You interested?  Do you want to take a break from the books for a while?”

“Sure, why not,” I responded, closing my book.  As I stood I added, “I’ve reached a brain dead point studying for the test tomorrow anyway.  Maybe some air will clear my head.”

Ronnie was one of the guys in my dorm.  I knew him, but not too well.  I did stop to consider it odd that he would be inviting me to go with him somewhere.  He was roommates with another guy I knew, Ed, a strange type of fellow.  Ed was a Drama major and stood out in contrast to the typical college jocks that mostly inhabited the dorm. 

As my memories of that evening formed, I lay my bed returning to that long ago night.  Memories that I had blocked with a heavy wall of denial for all of the years afterward soon took over my mind.

The night was a mild West Texas evening.  As Ronnie drove away from campus into the countryside the lights from the medium-sized town that was home to our college reflected a skyward glow. 

“Where are we heading?”  I asked. 

“Have you ever been out to Fort Kingdom Hill Lake?” Ronnie replied.  “It’s about 5 miles east of town.”

“Nope,” I replied.  “I’ve heard it mentioned but I seldom get off campus since I don’t have a car.”

“Well, kick back and enjoy the ride, pal,” Ronnie grinned and cast me an unusual grin.  I even thought that he’d winked at me, a gesture which, though innocent I was sure, left me with a slight queasiness in my stomach. 

The ride passed quickly.  Soon Ronnie was turning off the highway onto a narrow asphalt roadway which began to wind over a series of small hills and into a stretch with more trees than is common in west Texas. 

“Look at this,” I said, “trees.  What sort of place is this?” I asked. 

“The trees get their roots watered from the lake.  This whole area is nearly a forest, comparatively speaking, for west Texas that is,” he added with a grin and once again gave me a look that I found strange.

We began to pass driveways leading into the trees through which we could see lights from houses.

“This whole lake is populated with houses of the people from town.  It’s long and narrow,” Ronnie explained.

“Where are we going,” I asked?  “Do we have a destination or are we just wandering?”

“Oh yeah,” he answered, “there’s a dam a ways up here where I like to come.  Not many people know about this part of the lake so there is usually no one else around.  Sometimes I park and go for a swim.”

“A swim huh?” I answered.  “You should have told me to bring a bathing suit, a swim sounds nice.”

“Bathing suit?” Ronnie replied with a snort, “I never wear one out here.  Skinny dipping is the way I like to swim.” 

I felt a small dread enter my stomach.  The thought of swimming naked out here made me nervous.  “Skinny dipping,” I answered him.  “Are you sure that it’s safe to do that out here?” 

“As long as we’re not making a lot of noise, sure it is.” 

Ronnie began to slow the car as he approached a small dam.  He steered the car down a small embankment and parked near the edge of the lake.  “Here we are,” he said as he turned out the lights. 

I got out of the car after he had exited and began to look around, unsure of myself and the setting.  I looked over the car to see Ronnie removing his shirt and the pants.  In a short fashion he walked to the side of the car where I was standing and I saw that he was completely naked. 

“Well, strip down man, let’s get swimming.”  He tugged on his dick as the said this. 

Still feeling nervous I began to disrobe while also trying to force down nervous feelings of freight, as well as excitement.  “Are you sure it’s okay to do this Ronnie, we could get caught.”

“Jeeze, man, you’re such a wimp.  We’re not going to get caught and besides, if we are what’s the big deal.  Most guys skinny dip at one time or another in our lives, I can’t believe you haven’t.”  He continued as I stepped out my jeans and began pulling down my boxers.  “Shit man where I’ve from we were doing this in elementary school.”

I could feel him staring at me when I bent over to step out of my underwear.  I really felt exposed standing here naked with him, especially since my cock was starting to fluff up. 

Paying no regard to my semi-erection, he said, “Well, you’re finally ready, let’s get swimming,” and he turned to step down to the lake.

“Where are we heading?” I asked.  The lake was long and narrow, no more than 150 yards at its widest point and perhaps half of a mile long.  Most of the properties dotting the edge had a dock jutting into the lake.  As I I took in this fact I was also taking in the sight of the round cheeks on Ronnie’s backside.  Moonlight shinned off the water and reflected on his body as he descended into the water.  Ronnie was well built, though a little stocky.  I, however, had not yet filled out and though muscular, was still slender. 

He lowered into the water and began to swim; I quickly followed.  I swam parallel with him as we breast stroked through the water, each stroke beginning to match each other’s. 

Shortly Ronnie pulled up to tread water, I did the same.  “Over there,” he pointed.  “There’s a dock that’s at a house that’s not lit up.  I don’t think anybody lives there.”

In a short time we had reached the dock and I saw Ronnie duck under.  I did also and found him sitting on a submerged cross beam supporting the dock.  The space was dark; only streams of light filtered through the wooden planks above us.

“This is a good spot,” he said.  “We can chill out under here and catch our breath.”

I took hold of the crossbeam for support as I floated in the water.  Very soon Ronnie slipped from his seated place and dropped into the water beside me. 

“This is nice,” he said.  “It’s so quiet and peaceful under here.”

I floated with the rhythm of the water slapping against the dock.  Our legs briefly brushed against each other and I felt a small thrill shoot through my stomach.  I had never been with another man naked like this.  Even though I wanted to deny the thrill this adventure was causing me, it was hard to do.  My cock, though not hard, had become tumescent and floated out from my body in rhythm with his motions.  

Ronnie began moving his arms beneath the water in a movement treading water.  Suddenly I felt his hand brush by my penis, immediately causing me to have a full erection.    Afraid that he might have noticed, I pulled back in the water hoping to hide my growing excitement.  

Ronnie surged toward me in the water and reached up to take ahold of a beam just over my head.  Our bodies came together and I felt our cocks brush each other’s.  

“Looks like we’ve both got a little problem,” he said.  

“Wha…what do you mean,” I muttered between clinched lips.  As I became more nervous I could feel myself shaking in the water.  

“I’m talking about right here,” he said and I felt his hand take hold of my now fully erect cock.

“What are you doing, Ronnie,” I said.  “We could get caught out here, besides,” I searched for the words to stop his activity, though my searching was half-hearted.  Ronnie’s touch had caused electric tingling to radiate up my body from my cock.  I could feel his fingers begin to kneed my shaft causing me to gasp with excitement.

“Besides what?” Ronnie muttered.  “You are inexperienced?  You mean you’ve never done something like this with another guy?”

I could only shake my head since my breathing had become sharp with excitement.  I tried to clamp my teeth together harder to stop them from chattering.  I could feel his fingers stroke my cock lightly while charges radiated through my body.  

“Ed and I have come out here before,” he said.  “He’s been certain that you would like this.”  He suddenly reached behind me to touch my butt cheeks as he pulled himself toward me.  Our slick bodies brushed against each other and his skin felt silky against mine.

“Ronnie,” I tried to speak, “I don’t know if I should…” pausing I searched for words when I heard him whisper, “Should what?”

His lips touched mine and I jerked backwards and in reaction said sharply, “No.”

Instead of pulling away, he held me closer.  Despite myself I let one arm slip around his body while with the other arm I clung to a beam.  

Once again his mouth pressed against mine, this time more firmly.  Despite feelings of fear and horror, I kissed him back.  Our lips opened and our tongues began a dance in each other’s mouth, probing deeply.  

Soon I was rubbing my body against his and our hard cocks pressed against each other’s.  

“This feels good,” he mumbled as we kissed.  His hand had reached around and was again stroking my cock.  Then he said, “Why don’t you touch mine.”  

Despite myself I reached around with my free and had felt the swollen flesh of his erect penis.  My excitement became undeniable and I lurched into him, my kisses covering his mouth and lower face.  I felt his lips on my neck as he sucked on the skin.  We were thrashing in the water, trying to stay afloat while at the same time kissing and feeling each other as much as possible.  Finally Ronnie said, “Let’s go on the shore where we can lie down.”  

I protested but found myself following him to the shoreline beside the dock where Ronnie quickly laid down on the grass with me following.  We continued our kissing while jerking on each other’s dicks.  This was all I knew to do and Ronnie wasn’t providing any lead.  

“Ronnie, I’m going to cum in a minute doing this.”  

He said through his hard breathing, “Me too, man, let’s do it.”  

We each pulled each other’s poles more vigorously and soon I felt the tightening of muscles in my stomach and balls just as a surge began in my body.   Suddenly, cum spit out of cock and splashed onto Ronnie’s stomach.  Just as abruptly I felt splashes of Ronnie’s hot fluid begin landing over my hand, stomach, and even up on my chest.  I was covered with his hot jizz.  

We lay still once we’d both finished.  An awkward silence came between us.  I lay back on the ground stunned by what had transpired.  

Ronnie stood and without saying a word splashed back into the lake.  He began swimming the way the way we had come.  

Though I had no idea of what to express, such behavior from him left me feeling rejected, and ashamed.  Realizing that he could conceivably leave without me, I quickly dove back into the lake and swam in his wake.  

There were no words said once we were back in the car or on the ride back to campus.  In fact, Ronnie and I hardly spoke the rest of the semester; though on more than one occasion I saw his roommate looking at me strangely.  Then, just before the semester ended, I heard that Ronnie had dropped out of school and returned to his home.  No one seemed to know any more details and I, by then, was too much in denial to force an inquiry.  My life went on and I was fully intending to never experience again what I’d felt back at the lake.  But I had with Mike.  I had even experienced more.  

The day after my affair with Mike passed slowly with me in a dream-like state.  Any memory of our encounter ran into memories of the time with Ronnie, causing my cheeks and face to flush shades of red.  I began to imagine that every glance from a co-worker, or the slightest look from my wife over breakfast, was a bold accusation of my shame.

Longings that I had spent my life covering with layers of self-righteous respectability erupted without provocation.  I thought of my job, my family, my church, my work, but nothing could present a barrier to the uncovering of my lust. 

By mid-day I had retired to the privacy of a stall in the men’s room where I stroked my cock, my head flooded with thoughts of both Ronnie and Mike.  Holding my hard prick down into the toilet bowl I shot a fevered load of cum and heard it splash into the water. 

Later that afternoon I greeted news from my wife that an appointment would keep her out late with relief.  This was not to be.

I arrived at home to find my 18-year-old son with several of his friends, all in a state of excitement over their team’s wrestling match the next day.  My quiet home was filled with grappling 18-year-old boys, their grunts and shouts filling the air.  “Hey, Mr. Warren,” one of the boys shouted on my arrival, his head buried underneath the arm of another boy.  Both boys had their legs locked together in a scissors hold struggling for leverage.

“Coming to the match tomorrow, Mr. Warren?” another boy spoke as he stepped from the kitchen into our living room with a Coke in one hand and sandwich in the other.  The boys were all seniors on the school wrestling team.  I remembered them all as children, but now they were all 18-year-old young men about to graduate from high school and enter young adulthood.  I could scarcely recall where the years had gone. 

My son was arm wrestling with another boy, using the coffee table as a brace.  I was pulled from my self-absorption.  “You boys break anything in this room and you’re all dead,” I heard myself say.  However, what my eyes took in was the tight, round ass of my son’s best friend straining against the thin fabric of gym shorts as his legs flayed against those of the boy he had pinned on the floor.  I thought of Mike’s firm ass and felt my cock lunge forward against my pants.  Pinned with his back to the floor, the boy’s legs flung apart revealing a large bulge beneath the straining fabric and the sight of a full jock strap up one leg.  My own cock strained as if to greet it. 

Abruptly turning from the room, I hurried up the stairs towards the second floor as my son called out, “Hey Dad, I ordered pizza for us.  It’s on the way.  Can I use your card to pay for it?” 

Calling a hasty affirmative, I hurried into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me in fear that one of the boys had noticed the erection pressing against my pants leg.  Falling backward onto the bed, in one swift motion, I unclasped my belt buckle and unzipped my pants; just as swiftly my swollen cock was in my hands.  I was already close ejaculating. 

My breathing accompanied the rapid strokes of my right hand on my prick.  Suppressing a moan, I felt my engorged balls become tighter.  Suddenly hot cum squirted violently from me.  My head fell backward as my hips lurched with each squirt.  “Mike,” I whispered, “Oh Mike, what have you done?”

My passion spent, I covered my eyes and laid on the bed writhing in my shame.  I hadn’t controlled my urges. I could have been caught by one of the boys.  What kind of immoral creature was I becoming? 

Later that evening, when the house was silent and all of the boys had gone, I emerged from the bedroom and went downstairs.  I finished two cold pizza slices left behind by the boys.  My son wouldn’t return, he would spend the night with one of the other wrestlers.   I didn’t know when my wife would return.  I was alone.

Several beers later I sat staring at a television screen mindlessly, numb to all feelings.  It was after ten and still my wife wasn’t home.  I didn’t know which I hated the thought of more, the shame of disappointment and betrayal that I would feel in her presence or my loneliness in her absence.

I turned off the television and returned upstairs. 

I undressed and stepped into the bathroom, bending at the tub to turn on the water.  Standing naked in front of the mirror, I was shocked at my condition.  The excess poundage of middle age stared back at me, an accusation of lost years.  My eyes were more deeply set than I remembered.  They were surrounded by darkening circles and deepening lines.  Where had it all gone?

Later, in bed, I attempted to pray.  But exhaustion and escape overcame me at once, and all was quickly blankness.

The next morning the high school gymnasium was ablaze with color.  More people than I had expected streamed into the stands.   Cheers rang out as our team as our young warriors filed out from the door to the lockers and onto the gym floor.  Two large wrestling mats waited for them on the floor. Amid the cheers, our high school team took their places side by side the down the length of one mat.  Each well-conditioned young man stood proudly in his tight yellow wrestling singlet.  My own son was near the middle of the line.  I was shocked when, seeing him amidst his teammates, I realized that his body had developed muscles I hadn’t even noticed.  Then I felt shame from the way I was staring at the young wrestlers. 

As the opposition team filed in through another door, boos and jeers rose from the local crowd, along with a small smattering of applause from the few visitors.  I tried to appear casual to all this display of burgeoning masculinity but I felt my cock begin to twinge.

The visitors wore dark blue singlets in contrast to the bright yellow of those worn by our home team.  The yellow seemed obscene.  Its brightness clung to every shape of the boy’s bodies.  “What was that coach thinking?” I found myself thinking.  “Those singlets show every bulge they have.

Indeed they did.  Once the matches began, I couldn’t take my eyes off

 the shape of the muscled young men.  As each began his match, his ass crack became filled and defined with the spandex fabric.   The bulges of their cocks and balls were pronounced under the material of their suits.   With every stretch of their bodies, muscles strained against the fabric.  The home team’s yellow singlets became semi-transparent when wet with sweat.  I could see the straps from the boy’s jocks lined across their asses.  One young man’s straps hung exposed beneath the fabric of his singlet. 

The action continued and seemed to become fiercer with each contest.  Cheers and shouts of encouragement filled the gym.  Young muscled gods lunged glistening from sweat, then strained and twisted with the violence of their contact.

My concentration wavered and I felt slightly dizzy.  I hardly knew which boy won and which lost.  Even my own son became just another wet body in this expanse of young manhood.  Cheers and cries and applause rose and fell around me.  I began feeling closed in and felt I could barely breathe. I needed air. 

Standing, I made my way from the stands and hurried towards the first exit I saw.  The door opened and I was in a hallway.  I walked forward hoping to find an exit from the building, but I only found door after door down a seemingly endless hallway.  I reached the end but there was nowhere to go except through the last closed door.  Pushing forward I entered into what was obviously a locker room.  I was sweating and near to panic.

I stepped into a room which appeared empty, the walls covered with gray metal lockers.  Ahead I saw a passage leading into a shower room gleaming with white tile.  Turning to leave, I was startled when my eye met the stare of a large, muscular teenage boy, one of those boys at my home yesterday.   He was looking at me, questions in his eyes.  One shoulder strap of his sweaty singlet was removed and dangled at his side.  He had obviously been in the process of undressing and I had startled him.

Waiting for an explanation, or some word from either of us, the dank air of the locker room hung with anticipation.  Neither of us moved, except I lowered my eyes to the front of his singlet.  Pressing against the fabric, and rising up his stomach, was an obviously hard cock. 

“I,” he muttered, “I…uh…don’t know what happened, Mr. Warren.  I’m sorry,” his voice trailed off with his apology as he turned his head away.  Deep, red splotches covered his cheeks. 

Silence stood between us.  The room echoed breathing; was it mine or was it his?  Looking at the shape of a large erection pressing outward on the yellow fabric I heard a distant voice calmly say, “It’s all right.  Nothing’s wrong.  All of that wrestling just got you excited, that’s all.”  It was my voice I had heard.  I also felt a bulge running down my leg, pressing outward on my trousers. 

Slowly his right arm, the one extending from his naked shoulder, began moving slightly against his side.  His hand opened and the tips of his fingers lightly stroked his swollen cock through the thin, yellow spandex.

I stood dumb, not knowing what to do next; my eyes were riveted on the large shape against his stomach.  Without saying a word his left hand grasped the remaining strap on his shoulder and began pulling it off his body.   Slightly turning his body away, he pulled the fabric down his torso.  When he reached his waist, he needed both hands to push the bunched, clinging fabric out, and down over his erection.  He wasn’t wearing an athletic supporter.  He only had to step lightly out of the singlet to stand naked in front of me.  Strutting out and upward from his body, his rigid penis jerked slightly.  

Our eyes met briefly and in his I saw questions change to longing.  I looked downward at the cock standing like a pole from his body.  Sweat remained on his chest, stomach, hips, and thighs, causing ringlets among his dark patch of pubic hair.

I thought to myself, “Leave, oh leave now.”  But even as I protested, my knees began to bend forward, and I felt myself lowering in front of him.  His erection was right before my face.  With my hand, I gently took the hard penis and guided it towards my mouth.  It was so stiff I had to press downward.  As my lips opened, my tongue darted forward and licked the sweet bubble of youthful pre-cum that had formed on the purple tip.

I felt him shudder from my touch.  “Oh,” he moaned.  Quickly I leaned forward and closed my mouth firmly around his cock.  He let out a yelp before his knees buckled.  He leaned backward, bracing himself with his hand as he lowered then lay back on the floor tiles.  Waving his hand impotently in the air he whispered, “Oh, Mr. Warren, please don’t.  I can’t…” I heard his pleading voice trail into silence.  Hungrily I gulped on his cock, not slowly, but like a starving creature.  He cried, he moaned, his hips gyrated beneath me. 

His whimpered cries were high and loud, like a distressed animal.  Forcefully I moved my mouth up and down his swollen shaft.  I could feel the bulging veins against my tongue and inside my cheeks.  My hands pressed down on his hips as I plunged his cock deep within my throat and buried my nose and mouth into his thick, sweaty pubic hair. 

Unzipping my trousers, I pulled my own hard member through the opening and began rapidly stroking myself as I sucked on his.  Back and forth my arm drove in sync with my plunging mouth on his pole.  I became oblivious to the room and the situation.  

After a while he began to cry out loud as his cock jerked in my mouth.  Then there was a sudden, hard spray against the roof of my mouth.  With each spray he cried louder.  I withdrew my mouth and plunged again to be rewarded by another spray of his hot acidic cum.  The salty, pungent flavor filled my head. My nostrils were flooded with the smell of him.  I began to swallow as yet another stream filled my mouth in time for me to begin feeling jolts through my own cock.  Then, just as urgently as it all began, his body slacked beneath me just as the squirt of my own cum landed on one of his extended legs.

He continued to twitch in front of me with his legs spread open and his arms thrown across his face.  His cock begin to soften but I continued to suck,   With each pressure from my mouth he moaned again.  Over what seemed an eternity, our breathing slowed.  Then I finished. 

Opening my mouth I watched as his swollen, dark pink cock fell back across the nest of dark hair covering his stomach and groin.  Using my hands, I pushed up and rose to a standing position above him.  My own now limp cock hung through the open zipper of my trousers.

He made no effort to move.  His naked body was spread out on the floor in front of me. His expression contained a look of bewilderment and confusion.   The clear green eyes appeared uncertain and darted between me and the ceiling.  He must need me to explain what just happened between us, but I couldn’t.  I just stood looking at him unable to speak.  I saw that drops of my white cum had begun to streak across his muscled thigh.  After a while, he began avoiding my gaze as the thin stream of a single tear trickled down over his cheek.

Silently I stepped across him to leave the room, zipping up as I moved.  Down the hall, on the right, I saw an exit leading outside and left the building.  I ran to my car and, once it started, began to drive mindlessly away from the school. 

I was a basket case.  All concentration failed me and by the afternoon I had felt ill.  I continued to drive around town aimlessly.  In the light afternoon traffic panic began grew inside me.  What I had done?  I was losing control, becoming someone I couldn’t have even imagined a few days ago.  I was weeping.

The stinging of my tears caused the roadway to blur.  I blinked again and again, but was unable to clear my sight.  It became necessary for me to pull off the road into a lot.  Turning off the key, I began shaking, my face buried in my hands, tears forming like pools within my palms.   “Oh God, what have I done?” I cried. That young man had been innocent, just as I had been that night at the lake.  I had never imagined myself capable of such things.  With each of my memories my actions seemed more and more repulsive.

“I will lose all control and do something that will send me to jail,” I thought. I began to imagine the headlines, the shame I would bring to my family.  Then I fumbled for my cell phone.  “I need help,” I said to myself dialing a familiar number, my fingers trembling.

“Holy Name Church,” a calm voice spoke from the line.  “Father Egan,” I heard myself say.  “Is Father Egan in, I must speak with him.”  A few moments passed until the low, comforting voice of Father Egan spoke through the ear piece.  I heard myself blurt out my urgent need to see him.  I spoke of my anxiety, agony and need.  I prayed that I could count on Father Egan. 

The sound of his reassuring voice somewhat quelled the hysteria I was feeling.  I listened to him speak until he announced that he had to go, his afternoon was already filled with appointments, but could I come by tomorrow after the noon mass?  I replied, “Yes,” and switched off the phone. 

That afternoon and evening was spent in a state of desperate anxiety.  My wife and I barely spoke over dinner.  My son had come in later and was full of news about the wrestling match I had fled and the award ceremony to be held that next evening.  I could hardly pay attention.