If Truth be Told

Do you know when you want to say something but it just won’t cum out? Or when you really, really, what to do something and you just can’t bring yourself to do it. That’s where I had been for months now. I’d taken a partial scholarship at an obscure little collage in northern California ten or twelve hours from my home in Washington State.

It was hard for me to make friends and wasn’t used to sharing a room with anyone. Back at home I could just lock my bedroom door and have feverish fuck sessions with my hands to my hearts’ content. That was not the case now. My dorm mate was cool, from a southern part of the state where he could surf, and just be a stoner.

He did like his weed, not that I didn’t but, I couldn’t smoke and do classes. Unlike me he could take a few rips and go to class, didn’t study or do any of the reading, and pulled down A’s. More than once he’d twist one up in seconds, chock on the smoke, then say, “Nose hit, Bro,” inches from my face and I’d have to fan him away.

“Dude? I got a test tomorrow, how can you smoke so much and pass all your classes?” I asked for probably the fifth time this week.

“You need to lighten up, Addam.” And he caught me with another cloud of blue smoke reaching taking my glasses off as he sat next to me on the bed.

“I can’t see a fuckin thing without my glasses, you dick. Give em back.”

“You know you got great eyes? You should wear your contacts more,” he said still sitting next to me.

Now at eight-teen, a compliment is a compliment, and I could feel my neck get warm. The thought entered my mind wondering if he was cuming on to me in a subtle way. “And you need a haircut,” I said pushing bangs from his eyes.

“Tell you what I’ll do for you Addam, I will read the book to you. And I think you should just lay back and jack off, bust a well, deserved, nut.” And he smiled at me picking the book from my lap hiding what was under it.

Now I was taken back, to say the least. I’m sure it was like deer in the headlights look. “Shy, are we? Fine, I’ll sit in the chair with my back to you and won’t tell a soul.”

He stood walking to the chair pulling his tee-shirt over his head, dropped his sweets, then plopped his speedo covered ass in the chair. He looked over his shoulder as I wondered how someone could be so… tan. I was on my elbows, head off the pillow, and reached for my glasses only to get a better look at him.

“Like what you see, Addam?” he snickered and started to read aloud.

I fell back with a thud wondering if I did like what I was seeing thinking it might be what was making me hard. I mean the offer was so needed and I lowered my boxer-briefs, tucking them under my balls never taking my eyes off him.

“I promised, Addam.” He said without looking at me. Don’t have to tell me twice as my thumb rubbed the wet top.

He was right; I needed this and the experience was heightened with him reading Shakespeare to me. Just for your visual, I can jack dry pulling the foreskin up and pushing it back down; can even cum. I like slippery.

I had produced enough of my own to have a lubed up head. He hadn’t looked over at me the whole time and I stopped looking at him as he read with such inflection. I was frustrated because I really wanted to enjoy this. He didn’t miss a word and a small bottle of lube hit my side; my eyes shot open.

“I’ll put my headphones on, Dude. Enjoy.” And he did.

He must have been like me, lots of slippery; the amount of enthusiasm can raise the noise level a bit. I accepted his offer warming it in my hand and smelled the aroma, cherries. OK, slippery and sticky. My eyes closed again and just like that I saw his face; the same face I saw when jacking off for the first time at maybe thirteen.

Going as slow as an eight-teen-year-old boy can my head fell over to see if my dorm mate was watching me. He wasn’t. And he wasn’t the boy I saw when my eyes closed. I didn’t look at guys like that but, I’d made comparisons between what I saw when my eyes were closed and the guy that was reading to me now.

‘Wave’; his nickname, was my height but way thinner. I did like his longer hair because I could never pull that off. He had abs, his chest and arms had serious definition, and we were close to the same below the belt; I’d caught a peek.

My eyes closed again and the screen saver on the inside of my lids made me smile. There was such a contrast between them. Wave was a lot more common in this state than mine. I mean if looking at guys was my thing I don’t think he’d get a second look.

But he did have something. My screen saver was six inches shorter than me; It didn’t make him small. His hair was darker than blond in a shag, eyes of green, and the biggest fuckin dimples. I looked over again.

I was totally relaxed, my eyes closing again, enjoying what I was assured would be one of my best cums. I didn’t hear him roll next to me, he was still reading, my fists running my dick through both of them. I like the two fists, up through the bottom of my left then up the right over my thumb.

I might have been five minutes in, maybe that much left. The surprise of him putting his headphones over my ears caused me to freak. He was standing right over me with a wicked smile and a finger over my lips shushing me. I could read his, ‘let me.’

The book was nowhere to be seen, he’d already spit in his hands or something; fuck it, my eyes closed again and my screen saver came up. I thought I was like five minutes away, oh, hell no. I had, no one had ever, this was beyond belief. He worked his hands like only a guy can.

Wave, worked my head between his forefinger and thumb, cupped my balls pushing just under; you know what happens then? I felt my shaft engorge with blood, his grip stronger, like knowing; he’s a boy who knows.

He wasn’t even moving now. He let me push my hips up and pulling down hard, twisting my ass around as he would lighten up on his grip. Now that’s just fuckin mean. I moved down to take matters into my own hand as my eyes opened; he shook his head, no. And I gritted my teeth letting my head fall again.

I was helpless so I stopped moving my fuckin hips; fine. His clasped hand-squeezed moving a little faster as his other scrunched my balls and just under. Then he slowed way down. I slapped his hand away. Bad move. He was into this as much as I was and fingers found their way around my neck and his eyes said, “No.”

This was a pleasure, and torcher, something I would gladly go to death row for. I thought I had five minutes left, oh, was I wrong. Son of a bitch. I was the only one who did this to me, the only one who knew my triggers; he was just working my head and balls.

He had to feel my impending release. I’ve seen how my ball churn and pull up, and seen the flexing when all hell breaks loose. I knew what was cuming, so I thought. The hand on my balls squeezed hard and just before The Challenger launched, his middle finger buried in my ‘not very relaxed ass.’

I couldn’t open my eyes because I think the second shot partially blinded me. I could feel it in my hair, my lips and chin, and down my neck as I pushed back against the pillow. His finger was curled, his jacking had completely stopped, but I didn’t stop cuming as he worked half of it in my ass.

A second finger joined the other and he did something I never saw cuming; he crippled me. I wanted to open my eyes but as I said, cum filled my lashes. ‘Fuck me.’ No. that’s not what I mean. What was he doing???

I didn’t stop cuming, he milked a China number of children from me. Fuck. I hope I’m not paralyzed. He probably didn’t expect me to be looking at him through one eye, as he licked his hand, sucked his fingers, and was going to slide up catching more of the cum that couldn’t have just left from me.

Now, in a situation like this, what is the protocol? Is reciprocation, expected? Did I really want to? “God? The room fuckin reeks.” He said like what had just happened, didn’t. And he picked the book back up.

“Johnathan?” He didn’t like it when I called him that.

“I’m totally good, Dude.” and he turned in the chair so I could see a saturated speedo. And he started reading again.

My eyes closed as I knee walked between his legs, pulled his speedo under his balls, and took in his smell. “You don’t have to.” And he went to turn; that didn’t happen.

I went down on him; the first guy, ever. My eyes closed. My screen saver popped up. Yes. Wave had literally launched a wave. I thought about it when I took his still plump head between my lips. Yes.

Years, months, of pent up shit probably gave the best blowjob of his life; I hopped. I didn’t even open my eyes when he pulled and came in my mouth. I savored every drop, letting my taste buds go wild. I refused to release him, squeezed his fuckin balls like he did mine but didn’t do the finger-like he did.

“Well? I never expected that.” And he started to read again as I sat between his legs.

“Go back to bed, Dude. You will retain what I read as you sleep.” And I did what he said, crawled back to bed with my dick hanging out and a puddle from me between his feet. Sucking him made me come a second time.

I was so close to sleep; you know what I mean? I heard my phone ring but I was numb. His voice didn’t change as he read to me, one hand on my chest, “Still awake?” He asked.

I think I must have nodded. “Allen says, he’s thinking about you.” And I was out with a smile thinking of my screen saver.

Wave and I talked but didn’t do it again as he helped me with finals. He offered a blowjob as I packed my bags, a hand job if it would make the twelve hours easier, I refused. “You are a solid dude, Addam.”

“Aren’t you going home, Wave?” I asked.

“No home, too, go home too.” And he walked away.