Thirty years later, and here I was, back again at square one. When I was eighteen, I sat

in chairs like these in a lecture hall, beginning a BS degree in business. I met Stella, and we

began one helluva run. Four years of college. Four years of wild sex, rutting like two animals.

We graduated from UNLV with our degrees, ready to conquer the world.

We married. Stella and I went to work for her daddy in one of the largest real estate agencies

in the state. She became vice-president and CFO, and I became the shining star of Southern Nevada

real estate.

I always wondered what Stella saw in me. I'm 5'7" with an average build. People have told

me I have a pleasant face, maybe even a handsome face, but where it counts, I'm average. I like

to call it average, but have always feared that at 5 ½ inches, I'm smaller than most men. But

Stella never seemed to mind because she said I had "the gift."

My tongue.

I could make magic with my tongue. My tongue could tease a huge orgasm out of Stella every

time I tried, from the very first time. I loved to taste every part of her body, and I used my

tongue to massage every part that I tasted. Her soft earlobes, her tender nipples and breasts,

the supple skin covering the muscles of her back and thighs, the tender lips of her pussy, and her

clit. I knew my "gift" was magic!

After 25 years of making an obscene amount of money, the economy went south, and not too

much later, so did Stella. Houses lost value, and no one was buying. I wasn't bringing big deals

to the company, or even little deals for that matter, and I guess I lost my appeal with Stella.

She went looking for "bigger deals" because "the gift" wasn't enough to keep her happy. As Stella

was fond of telling me for the past four years, everyone had a "bigger deal" than I did. And with

her went my job.

So here I was, back in college because I needed a new career. But who in their right mind

is going to hire a 48-year old guy with only a few skills? I decided to try a degree in education

and maybe focus on special needs students. Special education seemed to spark my curiosity. I had

some volunteer experience, and it seemed almost a "slam-dunk" job opportunity.

On my first night of class at UNLV, to begin the fall semester, I took a seat near the door

near the back of the room. From that vantage point, I could view just about everyone in the room

without looking too obvious. I wanted to do well in the class so that I would increase my chances

of getting a teaching job once I graduated. I wanted to see who my competition was. I would listen

to try to determine who was "getting it" so that in case I didn't understand something, I'd know

who to ask.

Most of these kids were sophomores; I was back having been out of college for years and years.

The courses they took last year for their degree were classes I had taken for my BS many years ago,

so they were more familiar, more "up-to-speed," with what was going on. We weren't on equal footing,

and I might need a little advantage, a little help from someone here.

When the professor walked in, I was mildly surprised. Dr. Erika vonDieten was very young.

Probably no more than 28 years old. Probably no more than 5'4" and definitely not more than 100

lbs. And a redhead. This was going to be better than I had imagined!

I heard a whisper next to me. "She's quite an eyeful, isn't she?"

"What?" I hadn't noticed a young man sit down next to me. I could see that his short blonde

hair was combed to a center peak, and retro "granny" glasses surrounded his hazel eyes. He was

dressed in a football jersey and sweat pants, both stained with perspiration. Las Vegas temperatures

in the 100's will do that to you, if you need to trek across campus to class. I just needed to

take a short walk from my air-conditioned car to the classroom.

He continued to whisper. "I said she's quite an eyeful. Dr. E is easy on the eyes. She

taught one of my beginning education classes last year."

"Dr. E?" I whispered. "I thought her last name was 'vonDieten.'"

"Yeah, but would you want to be known as Dr. VD?" He broke out laughing, drawing all eyes

in the class to him. Dr. E acknowledged his presence.

"Liam, I see you have decided to try one of my classes again. I hope that you will put forth

more effort to pass this class than you did in class last spring." If her words were intended to

make him wilt, she succeeded. He slid down so low in the chair that I thought he was trying to

crawl under it.

And it had its intended impact on the class as well; the room fell silent. Dr. vonDeiten

surveyed the room and, in a no-nonsense tone of voice, told us that she was going to pass the

attendance sheet. She'd meet with each of us at the end of the evening so that she could put a

face to each name. Every week we were to be responsible to sign in. Attendance would be graded,

and she made it clear that it would be a lot easier to pass the class if we attended each week.

Sounded good to me. We needed to be responsible. I could handle that.

As the class wore on, I kept track of the students who asked good questions or who responded

with answers that received a positive response from the professor. There were three in the front

row, two girls and a guy, who almost dominated the conversation. I couldn't see her well from

where I sat, but one of the girls--Dr. E called her Jenna--seemed to know just about everything.

She had beautiful blonde shoulder length hair that seemed to bob back and forth as she became animated

while asking or answering questions. The other girl, Sammi, seemed more interested in impressing

the young man sitting between them, and each time she said something right, she turned her head

topped by short-cropped auburn hair and wrinkled her button nose at the guy.

I didn't catch the guy's name, and couldn't see him well, but did notice that the shirt he

was wearing--it seemed to be a few sizes too small. His muscular body, what I could see of it,

seemed to be stretching to get out each time he moved his upper body and his arms. The short sleeves

of his shirt looked like they were trying to choke his massive biceps. He also had short brown

hair topping his head, with the sides shaved, and his skin looked flawless. He turned toward my

side of the class just once, and I saw his pale blue eyes. Beautiful, pale blue eyes. He leaned

over to whisper something to the blonde girl, Jenna, which made her giggle. He seemed to be working

hard to get his share of attention from Dr. E, and seemed to be working even harder to ignore

Sammi. He certainly got my attention; "beautiful" didn't seem too strong a word. Chiseled features

covered by a five o'clock shadow. I couldn't look away.

He looked past Jenna, and his eyes locked on mine. Busted. I quickly looked away, feeling

my face turn crimson.

The class got a break about half-way through the evening, but I stayed put in my chair, deciding

to organize my notes instead of running down the hallway to the lounge to get a Coke. I also didn't

want to run into "him." I didn't need to spring a boner while rubbing shoulders with kids half my

age. And that shirt was "boner-ific." When he walked out of the room, I finally could see the

front of it, and the scooped neckline stretched down to reveal the edges of two massive pecs, topped

by stiff nipples that probably could leave a permanent indent on the shirt. And right below were

the words, "got sex?" It was probably the best play on the "got milk" advertising that I had ever

seen, but at that moment, I just wished it would disintegrate so that I could see more of what

he was hiding.

I looked up, and realized he'd caught me staring again. He flashed a smile, and I blushed,

got flustered, shifted my body, and slid my notes off the edge of the desk. Thank god, I could

look away to pick up my stuff without feeling stupid, although stupid was just about all I felt

right then.

As I picked up my notes, and tried to resume whatever the hell I was doing, I noticed that

Liam was still there. I hadn't heard a thing out of him since the beginning of class. He looked


"What's up? Liam, isn't it? I asked.

"Geez, I'm already lost, on the first night of class! I don't get all the words, all the

jargon that they use in education. I just want to work with kids and help them to learn, just

like my good teachers helped me to do. But I don't get all the 'stuff.' I guess I'm going to be

kissing the swimming scholarship goodbye." He suddenly slumped down further in his chair, staring

at his feet.

"You're here at UNLV on a sports scholarship?" I wouldn't have guessed it.

"For at least the rest of THIS semester. I'm on academic probation right now."

"Come on, jocks don't have trouble getting through college. Don't they have some sort of

'special help' that they provide to guys like you who need to pass a tough class. Can't the coach

talk to your teachers about easing up on you, helping you get through the class? You know, bump

up the grade?"

"I told you that I had Dr. E last semester, and the coach tried that already. The department

chair went and talked with her, and I got a 'D' by the skin of my teeth. That wrecked my GPA, so

I'm on probation. If I don't get a 'B' average this semester, my scholarship is gone. And so am

I. Back to working on my dad's dairy farm."

"They have dairy farms in Nevada?"

"Oh, probably, but I'm not from here. I'm from Michigan. Got the scholarship after winning

the state championship in the 200 butterfly. I could have stayed in Michigan, but I wanted to get

as far away from the farm as I could. Didn't want dad to expect me to live at home while trying

to concentrate on getting a good education. And I wanted to experience life. So I'm here, for a

little longer."

I was just going to offer some advice, but class was resuming. Most of the students returned

from out in the hallway, and 'the guy' ambled across the front of the room, raising his beefy arms

above his head to stretch. I tried hard to not look directly at him. But I could see more of

him now, and he seemed to be the total package. His thick thighs pressed against the fabric of

his jeans, and they stretched in the back, straining to cover his bubble butt. His package up

front was prominent as well. As he stretched, his shirt rose to show a treasure trail of dark

hair leading into the top of his jeans. You could see his 6-pack through the fabric of the shirt.

As my eyes raked up his torso, past his abs, his perfect pecs, and his thick neck, I came in contact

with his eyes again. He was staring at me, burning a hole through me with his look. Then he flashed

that wickedly charming smile, winked, and turned to sit.

I think I wet myself. Then I caught myself in mid thought. Where was this coming from?

Why was I noticing a good looking guy? Why hadn't I noticed more about Jenna, or Sammi, or one

of the other attractive girls in the class? But it seemed that each time that I could steal a

peek, I was looking at 'him.'

Fuck, did this guy have any idea what he was doing to me? Yeah, he probably did, because

after break, he kept sneaking peeks back in my direction.

This was nuts. Was I so turned off by what Stella had done to me that I was starting to go

in a completely different direction? That was crazy. I just happen to notice a well-built guy.

I wasn't interested in him, just admiring him. Maybe, deep down, I wished I looked like him.

Buff and built. Big delts attached to huge biceps attached to hairless, vascular forearms.

Maybe if I had been built like him, I'd still be with Stella. Maybe if I had his big package,

I could have fucked her brains out and she never would have gone looking.

My god, I did it again. I was thinking about his package. And I wasn't paying attention

to what was happening in class. I needed to think, I needed to focus, I needed to not look in

'his' direction. I went back to taking notes.

The last activity of the night was to organize groups for presentations at the end of the

semester. While groups were forming, assigning tasks, and setting up a schedule to complete the

project, Dr. E would meet with each of us to talk. I started looking for a group that was interested

in special needs students. As I circulated around the classroom, I worked my way up to Jenna's

group, and finally found out that the muscular guy was named Anthony. When I introduced myself,

we shook hands and it felt like a jolt of electricity went through me from his grip. I didn't want

to let go, and it seemed like he was reluctant, too. But their group already had six, the maximum,

so I continued to circulate. Two guys near the door wanted to focus on special education policies,

so I sat with them. As I sat down, I noticed that Liam had been following me.

"I was hoping to work with special needs students, too. Could I join your group?" he quietly


Everyone agreed, so Liam became part of the group that included guys named Carlos and Rich.

It didn't take long to map out our strategy, and then we joined the line which was waiting to

meet with the professor. Liam and the other 2 guys got in line ahead of me. I was still loading

my notes into my backpack. As I swung the backpack onto my shoulder, I hit something. I turned

and Anthony was standing about 6 inches away from my face.

"I'm sorry, Tony. I didn't know anyone was back there."

"It's Anthony, not Tony, but that's okay. No harm, no foul." Again, he broke into a

wicked smile, and his eyes delivered another jolt.

Embarrassed, I turned to move toward Dr. E, but there were still four or five people ahead

of me. I could feel Anthony move closer, and could feel his breath on the back of my neck. I

closed my eyes, and my nostrils seemed to be flooded by his "essence," a combination of soap and

musk. It brought back memories of how my older brother smelled, in my childhood, as he prepared

to go on a date. I was so lost in memories that I didn't hear what he quietly whispered to me.

"What was that?" I whispered in return as I turned to face him.

He leaned in toward me. "I saw you looking at me," he whispered, quietly so that no one

else could hear. "I stretched just for you." Now we were only a few inches apart. I felt the

heat of his body radiating toward me.

I turned my head away, gulped, then turned back, almost afraid to look at him. My eyes met

his, and he winked at me as he smiled. A smile that could have melted steel. Then he leaned

back just a little, and asked, in a louder voice,"So, Denny, what did you find to be the most

interesting topic of the evening?" And again he winked.

"Tony, you know that sucking up doesn't work with me." Dr. E was staring at Anthony, and

she seemed to know that calling him Tony would get his singular attention. "You don't need to

stand in line. I couldn't forget you if I wanted to. Go home and get your beauty sleep," she

deadpanned as she flashed a fake scowl at him.

Anthony sheepishly grinned at the professor, and turned to walk out of the classroom, but

not before winking at me. "See you around."

It was just a few minutes before I was able to introduce myself to Dr. E. I made an

appointment for later the next morning to ask a few pointed questions about pursuing a teaching

degree, then left the classroom. I continued to think about Anthony as I headed down the hallway

toward the parking lot. I hadn't taken a break during class, and I needed to drain my bladder

now before I started the ride home.

I pushed open the door to the restroom and headed toward the closest stall. A hand grabbed

me from behind and spun me around.

"I was hoping that you would stop here." Anthony had spun me around, and backed me up against

the wall, placing his hands on either side of my face. He seemed to be gasping for air as he pushed

his mouth onto mine in a hard kiss. He ran the tip of his tongue across my lips, and then pushed

his tongue into my mouth and sucked my tongue into his mouth. He kissed me passionately, and I

just stood there, not knowing what to do. I had never been kissed by a man. I had no idea what

to do. As he broke the kiss, he said, "I knew you'd need to use the john unless you had an industrial

sized bladder, but that would be okay, too.

"Anthony, what...?"

"Don't talk. I just want you. I haven't had any sex juice all day. I was afraid I was

going to have to make do with one of those girls that hang with me." He was pulling at my belt,

and trying to unbutton my jeans.

"Anthony, I'm not..."

"Don't talk," he said again. "Let's get into one of the stalls. The handicapped one at

the end. There's more room in there. Those girls don't know I'm gay, but for the life of me I

can't understand how they can miss it. I only fuck them when I can't get anybody else. And they

keep following me, so I was almost resigned to taking one of them home till I saw you scoping me

out during class."

"Tony, I'm not gay," I declared emphatically. Using the nickname got his attention.

"And getting your cock sucked won't make you gay. Don't you want to get a blowjob? You got

someone waiting for you at home? Mama?"

"No, divorced, and no one special at home. But I've never had a blowjob from a guy, so I

don't know if I want one. I guess I should want some action, since I'm not getting any. But I

don't reciprocate."

"Fine by me. But it IS too bad that your first time you get your cock sucked will be the

best you ever get. It's all downhill from here."

With that, Anthony began to take my cock in his mouth, to the root, and suck on it to bring it

to life. Quite the circus: him sucking me, and me trying to get my clothes off. As I pulled my

shirt up over my head, he raised one of his hands, grabbed onto my right nipple, and pinched it

hard. I jumped, which made it pull and hurt all the more.

"Owww!" My voice let out a strangled whimper.

"Hurt?" He was trying to talk around my cock.

"Yes. I think so. Owww! Maybe. Maybe not. Owww!" He continued to pinch one nip, then

the other.

"Take those damn clothes off before I do it for you. You might not have much left to wear

home if I do it."

I struggled to slide my jeans and briefs down my legs and off my feet. He told me to leave

my socks and shoes on. Then he spun me around, and told me to bend over the toilet.

"Anthony, don't fuck me," I pleaded. He got down on his knees behind me, and stuck his face

up into the crack of my ass. He dragged his tongue across my puckered hole.

"Agghh, An-th-o-o-ony! What are yo-o-ou doing?"

"Getting my daily dose of man. And making you feel good in the process. I'm gonna suck

your ass, eat out your hole, and siphon the cum out of your balls through your cock. Any more


"I don't eat ass or suck cock."

"Who said that you get to do any of that? Those are the fun things that I get to do. When

I'm done getting my fun, which I hope will be fun for you, then if you want to do something to me,

that's fine. If you don't want to, that's fine, too. Right now, I don't care if my cock gets

sucked, or if my hole gets eaten or fucked. I just want your cock honey. I hope you'll let me

have it. And when I'm done, if you want to give me your piss, I'll take that too. Icing on the

cake. Now, can we get back to business, please?" And without waiting for me to answer, he went

back to reaming out my hole.

I honestly don't remember how long we were in the stall, but I do remember him pulling my

cock back between my legs so that he could lick and suck it while taking breaks from eating my

ass. Not easy for a cock as short as mine.

And did he ever feast at my ass; it was like he was starving and couldn't get enough! He

kept digging his tongue into my shit chute, massaging the walls with his tongue, constantly trying

to move higher, deeper, as though he was trying to crawl up in there after his tongue. He inserted

a finger in an attempt to pry my hole open even further, then slowly edged in another, all while

laving his tongue in and out of my asshole. He pistoned his fingers in and out, and got one in

so far that he touched something that caused a jolt to go through my body, and I began spurting

shot after shot of cum. Anthony clamped his lips around my cock, just below the head, and sucked

down each shot with a slurp. When I couldn't shoot any more, he chuckled as he licked all the

spooge off of my cockhead and his hand. My legs buckled, and I literally sat back onto his face.


"That, sir, was your prostate, your love nut," Anthony chuckled, as he pulled his head back

just a little. "Now, do you have some piss for me?"

He spun me around, sat me down on the toilet, and clamped on to my cock, taking it to the

root again, and he waited. As my cock deflated a bit, my bladder began to release my piss.

The flow began slow, then increased in speed. He sucked it down greedily, as though he wasn't

going to get enough. He didn't spill a drop, even though I had given him at least a quart of

recycled soda. When I finished, he continued to nurse my cock until it began getting hard again.

He dug his tongue into my piss slit, licked around the head, and took it to the root again. I

came again in record time. Not a lot, but enough to please him. When he finished, he got up off

his knees and leaned over me, bringing his lips down onto mine in another passionate kiss. He

shared a little of my own piss and cum with me, shoving it into my mouth as he kissed me.

Gravity played its part, too, and I had no place to put it other than swallow it, so I did. I

started to gag, and it wasn't helped by the fact that Tony was trying to stick his tongue down my

throat, like a hand trying to wave goodbye to the piss/cum cocktail as it went down.

He finally pulled off my mouth with a wicked grin on his face. "Just wanted to show you

how good you taste. That was the best cum and piss combo I've had this year. You, my man, are


"Are you talking about me, Anthony? I'm old enough to be your father, and I've never done

anything like this with a guy before, and you think I'm hot?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

I had to ask. "What about my, you know, my....manhood. I'm smaller than most guys."

"Cock size is over-rated. Oh, yeah, I like to choke a big cock down my throat, or take one

up my ass that makes me feel like it's going to split me open, but a cock is a cock is a cock.

Every man has one. It's not what you've got, but how you use it. That's what gets so many guys

into trouble with their partners, male or female. They don't know how to use what they've got.

There is so much more to sex. You did all you had to do in the classroom to drive me absolutely


"In the classroom? I don't understand."

"Fantastic sex is all from the shoulders up. The brain is the greatest sexual organ any

person possesses. It plans, it carries out the plan, it takes others into consideration. You've

heard someone say that 'he was only thinking with the head below his waist?' Only worried about

his feelings, and getting his rocks off. The very best sex is wrapped up in providing pleasure

for your partner, and that's all done from the head up." He hesitated, then continued. "And

then there's the eyes."

"The eyes?"

"Yeah, it's all there, in the eyes. Interest. Questioning. A little lust. I could see

it in your eyes. Eye contact is the most powerful form of communication, you know. When I breathed

on your neck, and you turned and our eyes met, I knew right then that I wanted to give you

pleasure. And I could get some pleasure in return. Right now, your eyes are telling me that

you trust me to be honest with you. That you trust me to not breathe a word of this to anyone.

We may never do this again, and it is just as possible that we might become good friends, maybe

'friends with benefits,' and do it again, maybe a lot." He smiled as he drew his hand down the

side of my face. "So don't worry about your cock size, not with the load you delivered. Fuck,

you nearly drowned me. I'd like to do that again, and get all the cum and piss you've got to


He paused, then added, "And you need to trust are a beautiful, beautiful man, in

my eyes."

With that, he kissed me again, this time very lightly, just brushing his lips across mine.

He smiled, then turned and walked out of the stall and out of the restroom.

I needed to get my clothes on, and get home.

I had a lot to think about. be continued........



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