Two Freshman

The hall seemed different when I walked out of the room. Were the lights yellower, perhaps a little dimmer? I certainly viewed each guy who passed me in a different light. I started to notice that some guys held my glance just a little longer than average. Had they always done that? The guys who were with girls didn’t tend to do that. I wondered whether a study might show a statistical difference. Or was I looking at things with a different set of standards?

I saw Dylan just inside the entrance talking to someone who had to be a jock. Dylan seemed the same to me, solid, not overly muscular, handsome. He was the perfect specimen to pop my cherry. I walked up to him. The other guy was talking, so I just nodded.

I was listening to a one-sided conversation about a guy named Dexter who is dating the sister of a girl he knocked up last year. I said nothing. Finally, the guy, who turned out to be named Tom, turned to me and said, “Can we help you?”

“Hey, fuckwad,” said Dylan. “This is my math tutor, and we’re friends, too, now.”

“Since when did you have trouble with math?” Tom’s eyes glared into me.

“Since I missed those classes. Mark helped me figure out what I was missing.”

“Whatever, dude, you know those profs ain’t gonna fail a star baseball player for missing a class. Later.” Tom turned to walk away and saw someone else he knew. He hailed him and called out, and I turned my attention to Dylan.

“Sorry about that, man.” Dylan smiled.

That smile cinched it for him. I hoped my ass could take it; he was bound to have a huge dick.

“Mark, I ordered a pizza for delivery; I told them I’d be here in the lobby. I hope you don’t mind. I really didn’t want to get out tonight. I figured we’d have more time for video games.”

“That’s cool.” Just then, someone from Dominoes came in and called his name. “Perfect timing.” I walked over with him. Dylan had ordered two large pizzas and two bottles of root beer. I took that bag with the soda in it and followed Dylan up to his room. We were almost at his room when a trio of jocks came into the hall from the room next to Dylan’s.

“What the fuck, bro,” the tall one said to Dylan. “You aren’t going into your room to eat pizza and jerk off when there is a great pussy party going on in the Quad?”

“‘Fraid so,” was Dylan’s response.

“Oh, come on, man,” said another one. “Those girls are just begging for action. Even the ones that won’t fuck are willing to give head.”

“Yeah,” said the third. “And my brother told me that the ones who resist will usually give in if you just lick ‘em first.”

Dylan dismissed them. “I’d just ruin the party for you. All the girls would line up for me to take care of their needs, and you losers would be left with your dicks hanging.”

“No fucking way they’d pick you over me,” said the second one.

“Go for it,” said Dylan. “Crabs and diapers, that’s what you’ll come back with.”

“Fuck you, Krause.” The three of them walked away, laughing and pretending they were adults because they could curse.

Dylan turned to me. “Sorry about that. Sometimes I don’t know what to say to assholes like that.”

“It’s OK, Krause,” I smiled.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ pay for that one,” he smiled and opened the door.

I walked in and immediately put one of the bottles in his refrigerator.

“I have a pepperoni and an Italian sausage. I like both.”

“Oh,” I said with an air of disgust. “I don’t like either one.”

“Too fucking bad.”

I remained serious.

“Really, Mark. You don’t like either one?”

“No. I don’t. Of course, I wouldn’t mind having a bite from yours.” I raised my eyebrows as I looked up at him.

“You mean after I slobber on it?”

“Ooooo. You’re giving me the shivers.” I started to laugh.

“Grab a Solo cup, asshole.” Dylan gave me his smile again.

I poured us both a cup of root beer, and he opened the pizza boxes. I handed him a cup and took a slice of sausage. Dylan grabbed a slice and sat on his bed. Since his room was a single, one of the benefits of being an athlete, there wasn’t a second bed for me to sit on.

“You can sit next to me over here,” he told me.

“Think you can trust me?” I smirked at him.

“Of course I can. You said you wanted to wait until you found love, and I can appreciate that. I’ll respect it.”

“What if I changed my mind?” I asked.

“You mean about me?”

“No. About me. I still like you. You’re turning out to be a great friend, but I’m lonely. Maybe I don’t need to wait for love to have sex with someone, as long as I like and respect him.”

“So you’re willing to be my first?”

I nodded. “I’d be your first, and you’d be my first.”

“But we wouldn’t be boyfriends; you wouldn’t expect that?” asked Dylan.

“No. Just friends.”

“I’d like that, Mark. I trust you.”

“I trust you, too, Dylan. Want a bite of my pizza?”

“Have you slobbered on it?” he asked.

“Only a little,” I laughed.

He leaned over a bit off a piece. His face was close to mine. “I don’t want to kiss you with pizza breath.”

“That’s because you’re a nice guy.”

“Ouch,” said Dylan as he sat back up.

I finished my slice, put my cup down, and stood between his legs. I put a hand next to each ear and kissed his forehead. “Are you all better now?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Except for the greasy mark on my forehead.”

“I can see that you’re going to be a difficult man to make happy.”

Dylan shook his head. “No, not really. You’ve made me happy by being my friend and listening to me. You make me happy sitting here with me and sharing a pizza. You make me really happy by willing to explore who I am and who you are and who we are together.”

“I like the way you say that.” I took another piece of pizza and sat next to him. I put my head on his shoulder. “I feel safe to be myself with you.”

He leaned his head on mine. “You are safe with me, and I know I’m safe with you.”

We finished eating our fill and chatting about math class. I sensed a little bit of nervousness from him, and I know that I was nervous. I wasn’t sure if we’d be playing video games or playing with each other. Dylan put the left-over pizza in his refrigerator and turned to look at me.

His eyes dropped to the floor, and he mumbled, “Shit.”

I stood up in front of him. “It’s OK.”

“I make really cool plays at third base in front of thousands of people, but I am as nervous as shit standing in front of you.”

I noticed a bead of sweat on his brow. “It’s kind of warm in here, Dylan.” I reached up to unbutton his shirt. I saw him visibly take a gulp. He raised his hands to help me unbutton the lower buttons.

“Fuck, I’m shaking.”

I held his hands in mine. They were cold. He was more nervous than I was, by quite a bit. “Hey, Dylan, it’s just me.”

“Yeah, I know, but there are so many things that I want. Like I want to kiss you and cuddle you; I want to know what it’s like to have your tongue in my mouth, oh, fuck, how many times have I thought about that. And I want to fuck you, and I want you to fuck me. I want to feel my dick inside you so bad, and I want to feel you inside me. And I want to push you over so you can come on your own face and I want to finger your hole. I want it all.” His rapid-fire list of desires made me hard.

I tried to grab his cock through his pants, but they were stretched too tightly across what I imagined was his hard throbbing rod. I began to breathe too rapidly. “I need to sit down.” I took some deep slow breaths.

Dylan sat next to me. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”

I looked over at him. “It’s a lot to think about or to verbalize all at once, but it’s not an impossible list.”

He was looking at the floor again. “I had a chance to do some of those things two weeks ago. Several guys were drunk and curious, but I wanted to do them with someone who would remember, and hopefully someone who was doing them with me instead of just a guy with a dick. Ha. That’s redundant. Well, it’s usually redundant.”

He made me smile. “Come here. I need you to lie on top of me. Between my legs. I want to feel you pressing me down.”

“Mark?”

“Please.”

He did as I asked. His legs pushed mine apart. I’m not sure what part of him exactly pushed against my crotch. Our abdomens didn’t touch, but his chest pushed against mine. My fingers combed through his hair as he looked at me directly in my eyes. I lifted my head slightly and pressed our lips together. His arms slipped up to the sides of my chest, and his hands cupped my shoulders.

“How does this feel to you?” I whispered.

“Like you belong there.” His head lowered and his lips devoured mine. I pushed my tongue out and licked his upper lip. He stopped kissing me long enough to utter an “Oh, fuck,” before he started to kiss me again. During the next ten minutes, we kissed, we rested, and we kissed again. I ran my fingers through his hair, his soft hair, and he did the same to mine. At some point, he rolled over toward the wall and pulled me onto him. The pressure of my body on him was different but I still enjoyed feeling in contact with him.

His hands reached down and squeezed my ass cheeks. He began to knead them. “I’m kneading them because I need them the way I need you,” he whispered. “Will you stand up so we can undress?”

I did so silently as he watched, and once I was completely naked, he continued to look at me. “I’ve seen guys naked in the shower for as long as I can remember, but I’ve never been able to just look. You’re beautiful, Mark.” He reached out and grazed his fingers across my nipples. He placed the cup of his right hand under my scrotum and moved his fingers to stimulate my taint and testicles. Quiet moans emanated from me as he did so. I could tell that he was taking pleasure from the pleasure he was giving to me.

Dylan stood and undressed as well. I looked at him; it surprised me that his cock was about the same size as mine. His penis pointed straight out while mine pointed up slightly up. I placed my palm on his chest; his skin was soft and warm. I kissed him next to his nipple, a soft, gentle kiss.

“Your hair smells nice,” he told me. “You always smell nice.”

I moved closer, pressed into him. Our dicks touched; electricity shot through me. I tilted my head up to look at his eyes. “Take me, Dylan; make me yours.