% This work of fiction is set in the format of real-world situations. Identifying details to real people, alive or dead, is entirely coincidental in nature.
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% Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt!
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'SiLeNTLy PoPuLAR' o6
WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
Upon leaving the dorm, Carl says, "I know this sound stupid, but I miss Tim already."
Tom jokes, "do you miss Tim, personally, or his cock?"
"Yes."
"Me too," Tom says, giving his lover an extra squeeze of the arm and a kiss on the cheek.
"But I've got a feeling," Carl says, even though he didn't particularly like the way Andris swept by him, the teen's shoulder scathing his chest, tugging at his shirt, "he and his room mate are going to be okay together."
"Mutual feeling, long as they hit the books more than each other?"
Carl says, "when you were young," he meant both, "were you any different?"
Tom then detours their conversation, "speaking of which, that chaplain, he offered a tour of the chapel?"
"Yeah, about that?"
It made Tom wonder, Carl with something on his mind, "what about it?"
"Flint."
"What about Flint?" Tom questions, spacing his feet shoulder width and crossing arms below his pecs.
"So, either Flint forgot or was protecting himself by not saying so, we've already met," Carl waits for reaction.
Tom didn't remember, but for his own sake, "you mean 'you' or 'we' met Flint?"
Cutting the cat and mouse game, Carl says, "last summer, when I went away to that camp, well, it's a long story."
Something about stories, Tom hoped there was always a hook to it, "does it involve sex?"
"Let's just say," Carl lays it on the line, "if we were as close to each other last summer as we are now, we would be thinking of divorce!"
"But," Tom smiles, "we're not even married?"
From the look on Tom's face, Carl knew he was entertaining silent thoughts, "are you even going there?"
"Maybe," Tom smiles some more until his mouth opens to a toothy grin.
It's not that Carl, in his younger youth didn't think about it, how a chubby kid could ever land a hot handful like Tom, fall in love and get married, "well, let's keep that in mind?"
In his early twenties, it's not like Tom hadn't thought of the same, tied down at such an early age. They had known each other for almost a year, he and Carl both agreeing the sex was good, but not in the way lovers feel it. Too, they loved that Tim would join in and toyed with the idea of opening up their sexual romp to other guys.
Testing Carl, Tom says, "well, maybe while I'm checking out the chapel, you could make sure the campus is well guarded?"
Carl was trying to guide their conversation so he could confess something, but where it ended up, he had to just blurt it out, "Flint and me had sex last summer."
"What?"
"Like I said. Flint and I met last summer at the camp I went to and after he saved me from some bullies, I felt obliged to pay him back and..."
And at that precise moment they each get texts. Tom's phone was saying his tour of the chapel would have to wait. Carl looks down to find out security has been called to the west gate, something about some student trying to get his car through the pedestrian gate, ending with, 'it's started already!' and a smiley face!
So, Tom and Carl headed for, not the security office, nor the chapel, but rather their car.
Carl is the first to say, after plopping his ass down in the passenger side of the front, "well, at least we've got each other."
"Yeah," Tom says, sliding a hand down Carl's thigh to meet the small bulge of his pants, "and I can't wait till we get back to the motel room to get even more!"
They didn't even get the car started, when a knocking fist on the back of their vehicle, travels all the way around, from window to window, until a face shows up at Carl's side of the car.
Unrolling it, Carl says, "iron out all those problems at the west gate, Phil?"
Speaking of the other college security force members, Phil says, "minor problem, which doesn't need my attention. Besides, if you out-of-towners are in the mood for a bite to eat, I could steer you to one of the best placed in town?"
"Sure," Carl speaks for himself and Tom. "We can start by having you come to our motel room for 'finger foods'?"
"Only problem," Phil informs, "I get a ride to work. You would have to take me home after we've had our fun?"
"No problem," Carl had all the answers, "you can spend the night with us and we'll bring you back here tomorrow morning."
Phil wasn't sure about that new detail, but the prospect of a threeway romp in the sheets, the thirty-four year old security man grew impatient, waiting for Tom to clear a space in the back seat. He did wind up sitting on some unknown object, but the way Phil imagined it, he silently envisioned he would be feeling a lot more than a simple poke-in-the-ass, once he got back to Tom and Carl's motel room!
Then, to increase the tension, Carl turns his head towards the back seat and utters, "and Phil?"
"What?"
"Before we get back to our motel, be a good boy and strip off your clothes and cuff your wrists behind your back?"
His eyes were already in the rearview, backing out the slender driveway, Tom glancing for Phil's reaction, which didn't disappoint. With the security officer's sunglasses in his upper right pocket, he could see Phil's shocking reaction, eyes bugged and mouth dropped open.
Tom laughs, saying, "you're gonna love how wide Phil can open his jaw, Carl."
Casually speaking, like he's got it in the bag, Carl says, "wide enough for you and me both?"
It has been a challenge, when playing with another, trying to stuff both their shafts in a man's mouth, tougher than spreading a guy's legs wide enough.
"Two?" Phil is even more surprised. However, rather than having his friends change their mind, "we could try. I guess?"
About stripping down naked, Phil wasn't sure about that. Being a pillar of the campus security force at the local college, walking from the car to the motel room, not only 'naked', but with wrists fastened behind the back, there was doubt in his mind whether he wanted to go through with all this.
"I don't know though, about going from the car to your motel room naked and cuffed?"
However, Carl, even though only seventeen, almost eighteen, was wise for his youth, keeps the officer on edge, "we can be flexible, Phil. You can strip and we'll cuff you after we get you in the room."
Tom, who when one-on-one with Carl, enjoyed the total benefits of being a bottom, didn't mind giving up the position, being he was willing to share, says, "oh but Carl, I thought you would want to tie Phil eagle-spread to the bed?"
With a vivid imagination, with Tom's idea, Carl was thinking up the whole scenario, "you're right, Tom. I'll use the cuffs on you, putting you on the bed first and then, Phil, he can lay down with his mouth over your cock and then his ass will be all mine."
The conversation up front worked, Phil starting to loosen the buttons of his shirt, parting it down the middle. His pants throbbed for release.
Again, backing out, Tom's eyes were darting from the main road to Phil's chest, which unveiled a beautiful dusting of pec hair and stripe down the middle. It made his mouth water!
%
In the dorm room, Tim and Andris were standing there, gazing at the room they had just finished rearranging.
Andris says, "hey, want a carrot juice?"
"Carrot juice?"
"Sorry, I don't stock beer."
"Good," Tim says, "because I don't drink it."
"Me neither."
"Well, it's not like I haven't had a beer," Tim states.
While walking to the small fridge Andris bought, once he arrived, smiles, saying, "me neither. I mean, I'm not really an alcoholic freak, but I'll have a glass of wine if I'm out to dinner."
"Same," Tim says.
Bringing back two orange bottles, Andris says, "I'm also against plastic, if I can help it."
"I never really thought about it, glass or plastic. I mean, I know drinks come in both."
"To each their own, but I'm conscious about stuff like that, since I'm careful about what I eat and drink."
It did occur to Tim, the 'drink' part. His brother and Carl, they were always saying stuff during a sexual romp, 'drink me down'. It made him smile at the reminscing!
So as not to throw himself off course, Tim says, "so Andris, have you met anyone in the week you've been here?"
It hasn't been a week, but pretty near that, so Andris didn't go technicality on Tim, "a few people on campus, who have recognized me as a new student. Mostly at the sports center. I walked over to see if they were still accepting new swimmers for the collegiate team."
"No wonder," Tim jokes.
"Wonder what?"
Andris wore his tee shirt tucked in most of the time. Even when he helped move Tim in, if his tee pulled out, his hands planed it back in around his waist, showing his wide upper bod, slanting to hips at his sides.
Like crazy, Tim wanted to place his hands on Andris' sides and show him exactly what he meant, but felt it inappropriate, "the way your shirt digs in at the waist. It actually looks like you have the build a swimmer has. You know, swimmer's build?"
"Really? I never took notice."
He did, often, wanting to keep that trim swimmers build, but it was a good excuse for stripping his tee off and turning to the mirror. Once done, "oh, you're right."
Now, those hands, Andris flat-planing them up and down that hot swimmers build, Tim's lips could almost taste the dark, black fuzz, drove Tim nuts, or rather his nuts, nuts!
What lacked for Andris, was catching Tim's reflection in the mirror. Becoming so inquisitive about what lie underneath the shirt, Tim could almost taste the need for it to come off.
So infatuated with the idea, he almost missed Andris' question, "what about yourself?"
Grabbing the tails of his shirt with opposite hands, Tim hesitates as it rises above his navel.
"Shy?" Andris calls the stall.
"Um, no," but Tim felt awkward, "but I'm not as worked out as you."
The emphasis of Tim's halt, raised tee showing off his eighteen-year-old thick treasure trail, it dissapointed Andris to no end, Tim allowing it flop back down.
When Tim raised his tee, it had given Andris a few palpitations, cock leading the way, followed by a dryness of the mouth, upon looking down at where that tiger trail could possibly lead.
Things were moving pretty fast, but Tim liked Andris' speed, lifting his tee once more, but much higher, whereas his teen nips were exposed, his roomie remarking, "you've got nothing to be ashamed of."
Andris wasn't thinking squarely, that he could have been accused of molestation, holding Tim's tee up against the underside of the teen's chin. Realizing it, hands on, Andris silently thinks, and quick, using the tee shirt as a bolo, drawing Tim towards himself.
Meaning his hands on Tim's shirt, but deflecting to something else, Andris' peck on the lips, it leaves nothing to be said but, "I hope that was okay?"
Having desires of his own, Tim digs his digits into the tuck of Andris' gym pants and silent thoughts, closes up the divide of their bods, resuming where Andris left off.
Andris certainly was not opposed to finding Tim's buckle and unlooping it, stripping the belt from the pants.
In response to the stopped kissing and on the actions of Andris unbuttoning jeans, Tim just stands there, saying, "I never did that to a guy before?"
"Did what?" Andris questions, the twenty-year-old, hands busy at dividing the flaps of Tim's pants, slouching a little to peel them over the ass.
"Um," Tim didn't know exactly what to call it, but quickly thinking what it was, "strip a dude out of his pants," said as he stepped out of his own pants legs.
Standing there in only his Champion shorts, Andris flails hands to the sides, "well, here I am. Start stripping," he chuckles.
He didn't need to read a manual on stripping a dude, Tim tucking his thumbs in, "okay, if you say so?"
Whether he was sticking his own thumbs in, to strip, change into a speedo, something was different, having another guys hands on him, "you have a nice touch."
Touch. That was the thing, Tim having already enjoyed the touch of Andris' lips to his. It's not which he wasn't enjoying the feel of lycra on his hands, while thumbs were tucked in, but as happens with inexperience, Tim freezes.
"Need some help?"
Andris had asked, with ulterior motives, taking Tim's hands in his and without a verbal response they stare each other in the eyes, the shorts descending.
"Got the idea, Tim?"
Another question posed to Tim, he forgot what it was, his eyes glancing down, watching Andris' abs stretch down to his pubes. He did ask, "you don't wear briefs?"
The shorts fell from his lithe bod, Andris uttering a simple, "nah."
Tim didn't know what happened. One minute Andris was standing in front of him, the next he's on his knees!
Call it a desire too great, Andris jumps the gun, sinking down till a slight thud tells his knees are on the floor.
Tim hardly feels a thing, except the cool temp of the room, briefs sinking to his knees, "um. What are you doing?"
Smiling up at Tim, Andris states, "giving you what you need and what you want?"
He thinks to himself, Tim with an honest question, 'what I want? Do I want this?'
That bushy head and the cropped beard, a smile in the middle, Tim couldn't help but respond with a smile.
Whether misinterpreted or not, as a gesture of fondness or if Tim desired to have his cock sucked, Andris cups Tim's balls in one hand, opens his mouth and feeds Tim's shaft into his mouth.
"Oh shit, Andris!"
Smiling as he engulfed Tim's semi into his mouth, closing lips around it, Andris knows that expression well. It's not that he hasn't experienced it himself, a shaft at room temperature, exposed to the encasing of a warm mouth.
Popping off, with an actual 'pop', or slurp, Andris' hand massaging it, he says, "it gets better."
Back on the blowjob, Tim figures that's how it's supposed to go, not which he hasn't banged Tom's mouth, placing hands behind the head and shoving hips forward, till he's impaled his own brother.
Standing, they kissed a little more, Andris pausing, "you don't want to come yet, do you?"
"Um, I guess not."
One thing Tim knew, when looking at a guy, he loved hair patterns. Of Andris, he had black hair, which against the fair skin, really made an impression. Being Andris moved kinda fast on his cock, Tim didn't feel reluctance to touch Andris' patterns!
Moving the back of his fingers up Andris' stomach, Tim says, "I know this might sound weird and after I say it, you probably will be wanting a different room mate, but I'd like to massage you."
"No problem," Andris couples hands in prayer position, then lifts them above his head, flaunting the same black fuzz of his pits, "I'm yours for the taking, Tim."
But Andris didn't quite give Tim the chance, dropping his hands, planing down Tim's arms until he reached the wrists.
Frankly, Tim didn't reckon there would be such a fast reciprocation as this, giving up on what he thought he should be doing, to surrendering to a pair of invading hands.
Andris lifts one of Tim's arms, his mouth right to the pit.
"Oh wow," Tim is astounded, "you're like, a real oral freak!"
Smiling before he says it, Andris pokes fun, "oh, you haven't seen nuthin'!"
Even though they had pushed beds together, only one was required, having Tim lie down and Andris hovering above. He wasn't sure about Tim's idea of 'massage', but right now he thirsted, Andris yearning to get that head beyond his teeth.
Silently Andris thought, about having to lie to Tim, meeting many men on campus already. Some were of his own year, other upper classmen. He was also very persuasive and whereas a man would try getting the better of him, Andris would manipulate even a man proclaiming to be a total bottom, to fucking him, without reciprocation.
With experience comes knowledge and know-how, which has Andris pressing his mouth against the tip of Tim's shaft.
Swiping a lick over the head of Tim's dick, all he could think of was the feeling it projected, "ah-h-h-oh-h-h, yeah-h-h," he uttered in ecstasy.
"If you liked that, Tim, you're going to love what else I have in store for you."
Andris had put that out there, not only with Tim, but many of the men he's orally worked over in the past week.
prolly a dumb question, "how did you get so good at this?"
There was a great disturbance in the force of Andris' tongue working his shaft, up and down, over the top and since Carl had used this technique on his brother, Tim had always wanted to try it, out in the field, "no touching yourself," Tim says in a sharp tone.
Andris lifts his head. At first it looked like one long, fat strand of spaghetti hanging from a pair of lips, before it slips from the cock-sucker's mouth, questioning, "what?"
'Damn it!' Tim condemns himself for his vocal action. Something he forgot, not having the experience Carl has, he didn't check to see if there were any signs, leading up to trying to be the master of his and Andris' explorations.
"Um," Tim tries to find an excuse for his actions, uttering a simple, "never mind what I said."
Andris 'thought' he heard what he heard, which would have led him to reveal something about himself. He was wetting his lips, stalling, hoping Tim said what he thought he said.
Their relationship in the infant stages, Andris moves forward with a 'do or die' attitude, "did you just say not to touch myself?"
Indeed, Andris had unconsciously done what a guy does when sucking and licking another dude, too much to not touch himself.
Tim felt squeamish. Not more than five minutes ago he lay there, hands parked behing his head, waiting for Andris' head move down to his pubes. Now, thinking about his haste to try something new, he faulted himself, thinking everything was over between him and his room mate.
"Yeah, I did, but like I said, forget what I said."
He hoped Andris would buy it.
"Can I show you something?"
Andris was already showing Tim his beautiful bod, bearded face, handsome at that, a massive amount of hair coursing down, from neck to navel and beyond, a nice floppy dick, which Tim had hoped to get his hand on and whether dry or oiled, craving to feel it, "uh, yeah, sure."
Getting off the bed, Andris turns his back on Tim, goes to the closet, bends over, rifles through a duffle bag, as he says, "I already met one guy on campus who seemed to be into this and I hope I'm not turning you off by bringing it to your attention?"
What Andris meant, was dangling from one finger.
Tim, who had moved from a relaxed, hands behind head position, now lay, propped up on his elbows. It wasn't a surprise to him, by experience. Carl had introduced him to some kinky stuff and Tim has felt a little turned on, when Tom's lover put handcuffs on wrists and ankles, fastening him eagle-spread to the bed. One of the first things Carl ever did to Tom was put little pinchers on his bro's nips. It made him squint, like he was feeling his brother's pain.
"I'm not so sure I would feel comfortable having them put on me?"
"No," Andris smiles, "I didn't mean you put them on. I meant you put them on me, get it?"
"I guess," Tim wasn't enthused, but what he's learned from Carl, it's not all about oneself.
A quick show of his asscrack has Andris turning, bending and turning back around, "well, if you're not crazy about clamps, how about these?"
Another friendly warning by Carl, about cuffs, like the ones dangling from Andris' finger, Tim says, "yeah, I do, but do you have a key to get them off of you?"
Andris turns his hairy, naked ass to Tim once again, searching through his 'special' backpack, "I got it in here someplace.
Tim smiles, just staring at that beautiful ass, the same black fuzz as his chest, stomach, pits, arms, legs...Andris was just covered all over with the stuff!
"Here," Andris pops up, turns around and tosses something to Tim, which lands on his stomach.
Picking up the wide ring, Tim says, "it looks like jailer's keys. Like, what are they all for?"
More of concern than how many, Andris says, "I hope I'm not scaring you or anything?"
"Not really," Tim says and feeling no harm divulging facts, "my brother's boyfriend used to cuff him to the bed all the time."
Like it was a flicker of hope, Andris gloats, "Carl? Master over your brother?"
"Yeah," Tim fills him in, "they didn't plan it that way, it just happened."
"I bet the sex was good?"
Tim felt Andris was prying, but at this point, since the idea of using cuffs came from his roomie, he volunteers, "Carl did more than sexual stuff to Tom."
"Awesome!"
Andris' eyes lit up, about as much as the prospect of sucking Tim off.
"So," Tim relaxes, "you're okay with all this stuff?"
"Me okay with it? I was hoping you would be accepting."
Andris brings the backpack over to the bed and dumps it out in the gap between Tim's legs.
"See anything you would like to use on me?"
Tim did glance at his shaft first, but he knew Andris' meaning, "Carl used to use these on Tom."
Holding a pair of rubber tipped clamps, Tim dangles them from one of his fingers.
Andris excitedly says, "I'd love to have you try them out on me?"
From his own tutoring, by Carl, Tim gained the understanding or psychology of the give and take relationship. So fascinated about the subject, Tim has cruised the internet and was amazed at what he found out about guys who liked to have toys used on them. So, he wasn't at all taken aback by Andris' question. Too, prodding him on to do 'something', were those ice blue eyes and the one or two licks of the lips, communicating how much was 'the want'.
To show he wasn't biased by the kinky activity, Tim proposes, "anything else you like?"
He wasn't sure about revealing what was in the backpack at all, being some guys can get turned off by kinky playing around like this, but being Tim was not repulsed by... let alone knew what the toys were for, he picks up two buttplugs, "would you be into using these on me?"
Tim thought for a second. Not Carl's choice of 'weapons' to use on the ass, "buttplugs, I know what they're for, but I've never used them. If you don't mind, I'll skip."
He could sense the silence, tension that Andris was disappointed. Tim smiles and like he was pranking Andris, "not for me, but if you want them inside you, I wouldn't mind, you know?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to deprieve you of the feeling of my tight ass, if you know what I mean?"
"I do," Tim says. However, it didn't sit right with him, fucking a guy just for the purpose of feeling good and not feeling fulfilled as if they were lovers falling in love. "Good, I'll pass."
"No problem," Andris tosses the black buttplugs back in the backpack.
Seeing Andris handle this all quite well, not upset he wasn't getting the sexual high he had hoped for, Tim says, "in fact, I don't think I'll really into all 'this'."
"I feel so lucky to have you for a room mate."
That perplexed the hell out of Tim, "you are?"
Backing down on what he hoped could be one or two or more semesters of becoming a slave for his room mate, Andris says, "you're very smart to say what you feel and not cave in to someone else's compulsion."
Tim felt it true, "thanks," but also smart enough to see the disappointment on Andris' face, which prompts him to say, "uh, don't put away the clamps just yet?"
"You're okay with that?" Andris dangles the chain right over the mouth of the bag.
"I'm okay with it all, it's just that," Tim explains it like Carl would've done, "there's a time and a place for it and right now I'm feeling something else."
"I can work with that."
"And. Oh. That other thing."
"Other thing?" Andris is perplexed.
Andris had keeled over, whereas his hands were planted in the bed, next to Tim's thighs.
"Your toys, they're a big turn on for you, right?"
"Among other things," Andris replies, wondering where this is going.
"Everyone has their own perception of quirky little things," Tim reaches both hands up, feeling Andris' fuzzy pecs with the back of his hands.
"Oh man," Andris sighs, when feeling knuckles click with his nips.
"Oh man is right!"
What Tim happened upon are Andris' nips suddenly springing to action, hardening up into stiff peaks.
"Keep that up and I'll do anything for you!"
Nice proposition, Tim says, "hmm, I'll have to remember that when I have to research my first paper."
A different perception, Andris has already lusted to have his tongue on a lower target, but their waists matching up, he finds Tim has other plans.
Bringing Andris up the bed, by way of hands pressing down on his back, Tim draws their lips together.
Even though toys adhered to his bod turned him on tremendously, beyond what words could communicate, Andris' moans and groans give Tim an idea that being roommates could be about something more than about toying around with nips.
Next thing Tim knows, Andris' hand has slipped between their pubes, hoarding both shafts together.
"Feel good?"
Oh course it felt good to have a hand other than his own massaging his tube, but before Tim could communicate it to Andris, "I bet you would much rather feel more than my hand?"
Tim did wonder if Andris' tongue were as talented as his hand, "uh, yeah, maybe."
Smiling, because he got his way without much coercion, Andris says, "then why don't you just lay back and let me do all the work?"
Truly, studying like mad for a test reaped the reward of acing the grade, but being this, Tim would not need to even lift a finger, "I'd like that."
He was going out on a limb, Tim never really to bother to explore with another dude, wasn't really sure he was going to like the ministrations he's already committed himself to.
In silence, Andris' sixth sense kicks in, saying, "you don't have a thing to worry about."
Truly, Andris' hands beginning to explore the nooks of his developing six pack, it gave Tim a calm feeling, enough to remark, "it does," he swallows, maybe afraid to say, "feel good."
The visual definitely play a part in Tim's assumptions, that this was going to be good, studying his roomie's fuzzy frontal assault on the eyes, "yeah, I can tell," he says of the meandering hands.
Yeah, hands were great, but when Andris bows over Tim's bod, extends his tongues and licks the left nip, "oh-h-h-h," there's a responding sigh of pleasure, much much more than the very first time.
Wiping the spittle from his lips, after making love to Tim's nip, Andris wipes it away with the back of his hand, "do you, uh, like what I'm doing?"
Feeling his moist left nip, Tim says, "um, yeah. It's like...I never had anyone, touch there."
Nips wasn't what Andris was silently thinking, his engourged hard-on flourishing with pent up emotion, "it gets better," he sweeps Tim's hand away. With the other hand, Andris works both tubes, producing a bead of semen from each. Closing his hand at the tip of each of their cocks, it joins forces, both forming a gooey, gluey, moist solution.
Tim didn't see much of what was going on, both their shafts united as one, with arched back, throwing his head back in ecstasy, arms above the head and squeezing a pillow with all ten digits.
Before Tim could utter another intelligible word, before the moans and groans of pleasure ceases, Andris rubs the right nip with the goo. With mouth open, lips slightly pursed, he surround the tip of Tim's nip.
"Oh shit, Andris!"
Not the first time this 20-year-old frat boy has coddled up to a man's nip, Andris feels a sense of pleasuring, but also humor, having garnered the same feelings of emotions from every man he's involved in nip-tonguing as foreplay.
Feeling like he's 'died and gone to heaven', Tim slowly realizes he's still of this world, as Andris slips his tongue to mid chest, remarking, "what now?"
Slipping down Tim's abs, it doesn't go unnoticed, both leaking cocks, which has Andris' tongue sliding right down the center groove of that tight six pack. Backing up his frivolous play, there's a smile on his face.
Up on his elbows, Tim gazes at Andris and that quirky smile.
As if he's pranking Tim, Andris grabs hold of his roomie's wrists and tugs at them, disturbing Tim on his propped elbow, with a word of caution, "am I disappointing you?"
So enthused with the treatment, Tim tilts his head up to answer, "never! I mean, no."
This time, with both hands on Tim's wet pecs, Andris assures, "then lay back and relax."
How could Tim relax though, with Andris' hairy chest swiping over his stiff eight-incher, standing straight as a soldier, which has him saying, "you're doing that on purpose, right?"
So much into it now, Andris didn't answer, skating his tongue down Tim's abs.
Resigning to the fact he wasn't going to get an answer this time, Tim relaxing his head against the pillow, hands on alert for when the pressure was going to be built up again, with recourse to use the fluffy pouch to take the edge off.
Even though he's given a man a total oral workout, Andris is thrown off guard when enveloping Tim's hard shaft with his mouth, causing him to spasm and cough.
Immediately propping himself up on elbows, Tim gasps, "are you okay?"
With the trance Andris could put guys into, it's often overlooked by the victim of his pleasuring, the bucking of hips, which apparently Tim hadn't realized the implications.
"I," Andris clears his throat, "am," another cough, "thanks."
"Oh no," Tim says in all sincerity, "it's me who should be thanking you!"
Andris loved the enthusiam almost as much as Tim's adorable face, pleading as if he was trying to convince a jury of his innocence.
"No verbal thanks necessary."
Tim wondered about that, "which, means?"
There were other things Andris desired of Tim, but could see he wasn't that 'type' of guy. Still, any man could provide an explosion of the calibur that could quench the college freshman's thirst, "just lay back," he pats Tim's tummy, "and let me do the work?"
"Okay," Tim slowly caved his elbows, allowing his head to get parked in the pillow.
Of the 'work', to Andris, keeping a dude on edge for hours, now that there was a challenge and if he played his cards right, this wouldn't be the last time he's worked his new roomie over.
Bright as day or night, the 'other guy' Andris met with on campus was of different circumstance. An older man, there had been a different twist to expectations. It began much like the foreplay Tim and he were experiencing.
One day, while Andris had been practicing his swimming skills at the campus pool alone, he spotted someone of interest. Always looking to get the edge on other athletes, whether it was in a pool or on the court, he knew practice was key.
Then, so deep into his own funk, he didn't even notice the assistant coach of the college team coming from behind him. Still planing water from his fuzzy, wet bod, he's surprised out of his gourd, by the touch of a hand to his shoulder.
"Damn, you scared the hell out of me," Andris jumped, clear around, his back to another swimmer.
The composite, a hybrid of resin and concrete, painted over, had given anyone the ability to walk up to someone else without detection, now proven.
"Not my intention, I swear."
After a short stare, Andris' mystery man volunteers, "I'm Eric, one of the new assistants the college has hired for the school term."
Andris did a quick scan of Eric's bod, easy on the eyes and not much a study, being he was completely smooth, muscular and something which he could be jealous of, "good to meet you Eric. Andris Aetos."
It was Andris who initiated the handshake.
Taking the hand, Eric had silent thoughts, that wouldn't it be so nice if that was a fist coming his way, ready to pound his 8-pack abs, "same here," he added a delayed lift of hand and shook.
When his hand touched Eric's, Andris felt strength, like it had been the hand of a rugged cowboy, working on a ranch, which had him projecting off, "solid grip."
Still in the process of holding Andris' hand, Eric says, "yeah. You too." Whether his intensions were still in the thought process, "I like the feel of a man's grip. It gives good indication."
Eric then thinks he's gone too far, hoping for more to come out of this than meeting the swimmer.
"I agree," Andris says.
Surprised he hadn't given himself away, Eric replies, "you do?"
Andris had been in this same situation before, in high school, on a swim team, with one of his fellow swimmers. That first time, they were alone, a pair of guys, in a shower locker room. Intuition led them to walk from three showerheads apart, each canvassing the territory between till they were face to face. Not only did Andris have 'very' sensitive nips, he also liked to feel another dude's up. In seconds they were standing there, two high school seniors, latched onto each others nips and tweaking them, unaware their shafts were stiffening up to do battle.
Here, both were in speedos, an easy way to tell Eric was feeling more for him than a handshake.
"Are you done with your practice?"
Andris kind of had a feeling, "I am and ready for a nice, 'hot' shower. What about yourself?"
The only reason Eric had changed out of his jock clothing, into a speedo, was to benefit from an encounter with the swimmer in the pool, "I think I might be needing one myself."
It made Andris smile.
"What?"
"You haven't been in the pool."
"Oh. That. Well," Eric says before diving in, swimming to the ladder.
It was like Eric was showing off, swimming across the pool, ducking under ropes which divided the lanes, coming up for a scoop of air, then surfacing. Back at the side, he stays stationary.
It was like he was waiting for comment, Andris delivering, "impressive."
"I guess I'm ready for that shower."
Taking every opportunity which came his way, Andris had taken to using the campus pool; morning, noon or night, which had Eric saying, "you're very dedicated, I notice."
"Oh," Andris says as they walk off to the lockers, "you've been stalking me?"
From the side, Andris could tell Eric was smiling, before he says, "yeah, I admit it."
A good judge of character, in certain respects, Andris says, "I guess this means you're gay?"
Not surprised by the comment, it was the way Eric was trying to find out about Andris, "I like straight guys too?"
With the inference there, Andris says as they pass by lockers, "have you given many straight guys blow jobs?"
Being he already had a sense about Andris, Eric levels with him, "one way of earning college tuition, yourself?"
Eric picks a towel off a pile, handing it to Andris, grabbing one for himself.
"Me?" Andris is not really shocked. Actually hoping it came to this, he evades the question, hoping Eric was looking for one, "yeah, I like blow jobs. That's what you were asking, right?"
They reach the shower, vacant because Eric, in anticipation has locked all the doors leading in.
He didn't specify giving or taking, but it didn't matter to Eric, since his main goal was to find out if Andris played on the same side of the fence as he did, "that's good to hear."
"Wait," Andris says, watching Eric slip to his knees, "what are you doing?"
His hands, as he sank to knees, positioned himself at the sides of Andris' hips, dragging speedos down the thighs.
Before Andris could get an answer, Eric was licking his dick!
Telling the story to Tim, Andris didn't exactly say it word for word, but hoped his thoughts would get across.
Tim gasps, "wow, that's so cool, Andris, you're first blowjob and all?"
Andris replies, "yeah and I hope 'you' would be my first?"
"Didn't you," Tim fished for the word, "reciprocate?"
"I would've liked that, but all Eric was into, was himself and what he could get from me, so it seemed."
Tim didn't ask, but Andris shared that not only into giving blow jobs, Eric liked some kinky stuff, like putting hands behind his head and getting gut-punched.
"Gut-punched? Like, how does that go?"
They went from standing, to sitting on the side of the bed, Andris telling Tim how Eric liked getting his jollies, "you wouldn't believe it, but the more I punched Eric in the stomach, the harder his dick got and soon it was leaking, if you know what I mean?"
"Punched in the stomach and having his cock leaking? No, I don't really get it. How could that...happen?"
Andris jumps the gun, "you have sensitive nips?"
"It's complicated," Tim says, not sure he should keep silent or divulge all the kinky stuff Carl liked doing with his brother, Tom.
"Complicated is okay. After all, we've got all afternoon with nothing to do, right?"
Andris was right and truthfully, Tim was feeling a little 'hard'!
"My brother, I didn't know half the stuff he likes to do, until his boyfriend said something in front of me, about Tom."
Andris had a strong yearning to know, "like what?"
"Like those nip clamps. I know what they're for. I know how to use them. Like, I know how much pressure to apply in order to get an erection and I know when to backoff, when a dude is getting close to cumming." Thinking about it, "or maybe I've said too much?"
"No." So strongly was Andris' reproach, "in fact I want to lie down right now and have you do that to me!"
Tim hesitates.
"It's the one thing Eric wasn't about, reciprocating," Andris shares. "It was all about him and what he could get out of me. I know it sounds crazy Tim, but I really want you to, 'use' me?"
This wasn't something Andris shared with a dude, not within the first few minutes, half hour or even sometimes first meet up.
Not at all surprised, at the time, Tim was surprised at how Tom groveled at Carl's feet, would do anything his boyfriend asked to achieve goals for himself. Tom took the clamps on his nips and when Carl proposed pulling the little screws out, tightening them to the max, Tom smile, without question. Their relationship grew together out of what each liked doing to each other, which was kind of weird, when other guys get together for only kissing, hugging, cuddling, etc.
With Tim hesitating, Andris gets scared, that he's gone too far.
"Or maybe not," he sits up on the side of the bed. "I guess I've blown it for us, huh?"
Tim smiles.
The silence, but the smile, has Andris guessing, "you're okay with what I've said?"
"I am, but comparing things."
"Like?"
"My brother, Tom, the same used to happen to him, he'd get hard just by having Carl say stuff to him and without even laying a hand on him."
It's not that Andris didn't know his shaft was growing, while they were carrying on with all this talk, "yeah, it just seems to happen, but I see you're not immune to it, yourself?"
Maybe Tim knew he would get hard, but didn't realize the stiffness, his rugged shaft standing out straight from his pubes, "yeah, I guess I'm not immune!"
Lying back down, Andris couples hands behind his head, like a prisoner surrendering all, "man, I'd sure like to taste you, if you know what I mean?"
Tim, he was thinking it would be nice to have a gay room mate, and pictured them standing, exploring each other with tongue and hands, it leading to more, in time. He didn't picture it all happening like his brother and Carl, but if he didn't eventually wind up in a three-some with the pair he might not be able to accept what he was faced with right now. All in all, Tim hoped Andris wasn't as deeply into kinky stuff as his brother. Might be nice to have some kissing and cuddling, without strings attached.
Looking upon how hot his roomie looked, Tim forgets his own wishes jumps the gun, "would you want your nips clamped now or later?"
"Anyway you want it," Andris replies.
'Saved by the bell', rather the jingle, Tim's cell alerts him, with a little twist to it, "my phone. No wait. That's not my phone."
He realizes it Tom's phone, picking it up, "my brother is calling," another revelation, "himself?"
"Hello?" Tim answers.
Andris waits as his room mate says, "oh?"
"Yeah. I gather, Tom," like Tim kind of guessed Tom took his cellphone instead of his own.
%
Back at Carl and Tom's motel room things had progressed to where Phil's naked bod was spread eagle on the bed, tied with ropes Carl never traveled without. In explaining what they could do to Phil, Carl asked Tom to show, by perusing the pictures on his phone. Only problem, Tom had picked up Tim's phone before leaving to go back to the motel.
"So?" Carl asks Tom, after he hangs up with his brother.
"Tim's room mate doesn't have a car either. We have to drive back to the dorm for my phone."
Carl scans Phil's hot bod splayed eagle-spread on the bed, then stares with a vengeance at Tom.
Without a word from his boyfriend, Tom says, "I know. I won't get away with this without being punished."
The smile on Tom's face almost gave Carl the idea that his boyfriend picked up the wrong phone on purpose, which has him saying as he gets up and starts to dress, "looks like I'll have two slaveboys to appease my sexual desires."
Phil, wanting, hoping, lusting to be Carl and Tom's object of abuse, pleads, "couldn't you forgive Tom?"
Picking up a ball gag, Tom grabs Phil's balls, gives the orbs a slight squeeze and when his mouth is open, stuffs the rubber silencer in.
Carl, who heard Phil loud and clear, says, as his pinky pops out of his ear, "I must be getting deaf. What did Phil just say?"
"Oh, he's just babbling about nothing," Tom, hoping to reap the benefits of Carl's torturous imagination, says.
Neither gave Phil the heads up they were leaving the security officer tethered to the bed, walking out of the motel room.
"Think he'll be alright?" Tom asks.
"A little disappointed, sure, but when we get back I'll do stuff to him which will put you and him over the edge!"
Sitting in the front seat, Carl questions his boyfriend, "well, are we going?"
Standing there, driver's side door open, Tom stands, gazing back at their motel room, "on second thought, maybe we can drive over, after?"
"Nonsense," Carl says with sureity, "who's going to feel like driving at 3 o'clock in the morning?"
"You got a point there," Tom says, parking his ass in the driver's seat.
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% Copyright 2022 T. Chase McPhee
Developing segments of 'SiLeNTLy PoPuLAR' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the author.