Geology 101

The room had places for around a hundred students with auditorium-style seating. I placed my backpack in the last row under a light fixture that didn’t work. Sitting in the back of the lecture hall that first day, I remember how angry I was. As a graduate student in geology hoping to specialize in volcanology-related earthquakes, here I sat in a first-year undergraduate geology course. One of the expectations for my studies was teaching a primary level course the first year and a level two course the second. However, the head of the department wanted all his first-year grad students to audit the class they would teach the following semester. We had to present a portfolio at the end of the year with detailed lesson plans, etc. for the entire course. I worried that I would be bored into anemia before the semester was out. But here I sat, complacent and in the back.

Most of the students were quietly looking through their things or chatting quietly with friends they had already made when a group of baseball athletes came in. Rowdy, loud, and obnoxious, they moved toward the center back area of the room. I watched them as they came in wondering how many of them were actually interested in geology.

As they made their way up the center stairs, they chatted it up with everyone. What a noisy bunch. Then I saw #34. What an ass he had; it wasn’t too big, not enough to be a bubble butt, but just enough. It was perfect. If I weren’t already gay, that butt could have turned me.

Then he turned around. Although shorter by a few inches compared to most of the other guys, his dark hair and second-day stubble offset his slightly tan skin. With a strong square jaw and a perfect smile surrounded by lips that were a perfect size, his face should have been in all the fashion magazines. His nose and ears were just the right shapes for his head, and I couldn’t stop staring at him. He caught me looking and stretched his arms up over his head. His body was fit and trim, but it looked more like a swimmer’s build to me. I was sure he was wearing his cup; the shape between his legs was too symmetrical to be otherwise.

I tried to glance away, but I couldn’t. The name Kimbrough was on the back of his shirt. I wondered what his first name was. He talked to the guy next to him as they moved farther up the stairs. He cut his eyes over to me to find me watching him again.

‘He’s going to know that I think he’s hot,’ I thought. ‘Well, he is hot, and he knows it too. You cannot be that hot and not know it. Plus he probably has sex with a different girl every night. A guy who looks that dreamy is probably an asshole, and why would someone that sexy want anything to do with me?’ I needed to stop looking at him. I reached in my backpack for my notebook. I saw many people getting out laptops; I still liked to take my notes on paper.

“Hey, Kimbrough, where are you going?” I looked in the direction of the voice.

Number 34 was on my row about ten seats away and calling back toward the others dressed in their baseball uniforms. “I’m sitting on this end over here, next to my buddy.” He turned back around and smiled at me. He continued and sat next to me, moved the desktop into position, and dropped the small bag he’d been carrying on top. “I’m Blake.”

I hadn’t noticed before, but he was chewing on some gum, no popping, no gum-smacking, just quietly chewing. His voice had a smooth tenor quality.

“Matthew.”

“Matthew,” he repeated. He pulled a stick of gum from a pack and handed it to me.

“Thanks.” I took the gum, unwrapped it, and began to chew.

He nodded and got his notebook out of his bag. He began scribbling something on the first sheet, and he would glance over at me from time to time and smile.

I wanted the class to start. The tension was killing me. When I saw Stan Cooperman come into the classroom, I looked at my phone. Another ten minutes before class began--why was time moving so slowly. I glanced over to Blake and saw him ripping the sheet of paper from his notebook. He folded it and stuffed it into an envelope. I saw him seal the paper inside; he wrote something on the envelope, and he turned to me.

I looked over at him; his eyes were incredible. I had a strange feeling in my gut; it was a sense that everything in my life was going to be great from now on. He handed the envelope to me. “You can’t open that until December, on the last day of class.”

I looked down at the envelope. It said ‘From Blake to Matthew. Don’t Open till the last day.’ I looked back at Blake.

“You feel it, too, don’t you?”

I wasn’t sure if he was talking about lust or something deeper. I had a sense of something deeper, but I also knew that if he told me he wanted to take me back to his room and play, I would willingly go along. Who could resist him?

He continued. “Grab a drink or a bite to eat after class with me?”

“Of course,” I grinned, then I felt my cheeks flush.

He chuckled a little. “That’s so cute.”

Stan, who was also a graduate student, placed a stack of papers on the table at the front. “Everyone needs a handout.”

Blake got up. “I’ll get yours.” He tapped me on the shoulder. I wanted to grab onto his hand. I watched him walk down to get the handouts. He had a great body, but there was something more. I wondered whether it was his butt that made me look at him, or was there just something about him that drew me to look, and then I noticed his butt. How does attraction work?

I noticed that Blake’s bulge was no longer centered. Maybe he wasn’t wearing a cup after all. He continued back up with the papers, and I kept trying to imagine what he looked like without clothes. As he reached our row, he bent over and whispered into my ear. “People are going to notice that you are staring at my crotch. There’s more to me than my massive manhood, you know.”

“Sorry.”

“I like that you’re looking at me,” he whispered.

I was about to respond when Stan started the class. He went over the usual first day of class routines, the syllabus, and test schedules. He gave the next class reading assignment and dismissed us.

“How’s Rusty Nail sound?” Blake was leaning toward me slightly. “Salad with grilled salmon. I’m buying.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I asked you, and I’m free until one.”

“Sure.” I put my notebook back in the backpack.

“Hey, Kimbrough, we’re going for pizza. You coming?”

Blake stood up. “Matt and I are grabbing something healthy. I’ll meet up with you later.” He turned back to me. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Remember, my eyes are up here.” He made a low rumble that I surmised was a chuckle.

That sound excited me. I wanted to push him against the wall and kiss him. I wanted to push my crotch into his and grind them together. I wanted to…”

“Hey, let’s go.”

I stood up and slung my backpack over my shoulder.

“Nice.” He raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t cheated in the manhood department; or in any other department.”

My cheeks grew warm again.

He put his hand on my shoulder. “Can you get any cuter?”

That made my cheeks get even redder.

“So, tell me your story.”

“My story?” I asked.

“Yeah, you don’t think I’m going to hop in the sack with you without knowing more about you, do you?”

“And what makes you think that I’m going to hop in the sack with you, Blake?” I smiled as I asked. I could tell that he wanted to, and he knew that I wanted to. But wanting to is different from actually doing. I’d wanted to many times, and yet, I stood next to this hunk of a guy as a full-fledged 22-year-old virgin.

“Oh, Matt. You’re feeling the chemistry, and I’m feeling the chemistry.”

“Is that your pick-up line?” I smiled even more broadly.

“It’s not a pick-up line when it’s simply the truth.”

“Well, here goes then. I was born about an hour north of here. I lived in the same house all my life. I realized when I was fourteen that I was gay and that I wasn’t going to start being attracted to women. I came to terms with it and told my best friend. I wasn’t in love with him, by the way. He told everyone, so that ended that friendship. People at school weren’t mean to me; they didn’t bully me, but no one talked to me after that. I went to school in West Texas and then came here to do my graduate work. I’m twenty-two. I’ve gone on one date. He was my roommate’s brother, and we did not hit it off. I’ve never been in the sack with anyone. I’ve never had or given a blowjob or a handjob for that matter. I never approach people that I’m attracted to. So, if you had not taken the seat next to me, I’d be sitting in my office right now. Probably thinking about you and wondering.”

“Shit, man. That’s sad.”

“My life’s not sad, Blake.”

“No, Matt. That’s not what I mean. What if you missed out on meeting someone special?”

“What if you’re my someone special?”

“Me? Who wants a dumb jock as his someone special?” Blake laughed.

“Tell me your story, and I’ll let you know.”

“OK. I’m the youngest kid of seven. There would have been more, but my father was shot and killed by the guy next door when he got caught fucking the guy’s wife. I was three at the time. We went to live with my grandparents. My mother went to work. I was pretty much ignored; fortunately, I was good at baseball. I wasn’t a very good student; I mean, I did my work, but nobody pushed me, and I didn’t see the importance of any of it. I was popular in high school. I wouldn’t admit that I liked guys, so I got myself a girlfriend. I fucked her often to prove I wasn’t gay. I got her pregnant. My coach was mad; my family didn’t care. She told me that she killed it and went to live with an aunt. I realized I was an idiot. I tried to do better in school, and I admitted to myself that I’m gay. I dated one guy last year. He didn’t like to fuck or to get fucked, so we just did blowjobs, but he decided I wasn’t what he wanted. I flirt with everybody, but then I saw a guy in one of my classes that I just had to get to know.”

“Are you going to tell him about me?”

“He is you, you goof.”

“Just checking.”

“Are you going to keep flirting?”

“I don’t want to if we decide to start dating. But sometimes I do it without thinking.”

“If we start dating,” I asked, “will you cheat on me.”

“No. Absolutely no. I give you my word on that.”

“So, you have a baseball scholarship to the school.”

“Yeah, and I’m not going to blow it. I study. I have a 3.7 from last year. I’m getting a business degree. I’m worried because I know that the classes are going to get harder.”

“They do, but you’ve got more under your belt when you take them. What do you want to do?”

“I’d love to do professional baseball, but I know that might happen. I often thought about being a public defender, but I don’t know that I’m smart enough for law school, and I don’t have money for that. There’s the restaurant.”

We had a nice meal. We both had salad and I opted for snapper instead of salmon. We talked about our dorm situations. I had a small single room in the graduate dorm with a kitchenette and a bathroom. He had a single in the dorm that housed mostly athletes, but he said that privacy was minimal as they had a communal bathroom.

Blake told me he had hoped we’d be study partners in the geology class. I reminded him that I was just auditing the class, but that I’d be happy to help him study.

He nodded and smiled. “So, would you like to see me again?”

“I’m going to be seeing you three times a week in class,” I said flatly as I tried not to smile back.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What about outside of class?”

“Why don’t we meet at two this afternoon at my office, and we can discuss it further.”

“Your office?”

“That’s right, Mr. Kimbrough.” I was still trying to stifle a laugh.

“Where’s your office?”

“Geology building, 432B. I need to use the restroom.”

“They’re really clean here. It’s that way.” He pointed toward the back left.

I was at the sink washing my hands when Blake came into the bathroom. He pressed into me from behind, reached around, and washed his hands. We walked together to the hand drying and dried our hands while rubbing them together and interlacing our fingers. It took longer than had I done it alone, but it was more fun.

I turned around to face him; he had a closed-mouth smile. I brushed my lips against his; he opened his mouth and kissed me back. His tongue ran across my lower lip.

I took a deep breath in through my nose. “You’re going to try to steal my virginity, aren’t you?”

He chuckled. “I won’t have to steal it. You’re going to give it to me.”

-- to be continued --