GENERAL DISCLAIMER: This story contains sexual situations between adult males involving various aspects of the kink and fetish communities. If you find material of this nature offensive then you should not read any further. All characters in this story are over the age of 21. If you are under 18 years old in the US or under 16 in the UK you are not legally allowed to read this story. This is purely a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to any events that may have occurred, are purely coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the websites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author. Nifty does not exist without donations. If you enjoy these stories, please donate here: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
CONTACT/FEEDBACK: I enjoy getting feedback and I try to incorporate as many suggestions about the story and characters into subsequent chapters whenever possible. Feel free to e-mail me at carterpodeski@gmail.com.
The Brownstone on Union Park
- Chapter fifteen -
Half of the passengers had already exited the boat when the two of them finished their heart to heart talk. Carter grabbed his duffel bag from the side of the row and slung it around his shoulder. James uncrossed his legs and grabbed his bag with his left hand.
Carter looked down at the cup with the iced coffee, it only had about six discernable ice cubes remaining in it after the heat melted most of them instantaneously.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Carter asked not breaking his vision away from the cup holder on the armrest of the chair.
James readjusted his sunglasses and then brought his right hand to clutch the other handle of his bag bringing it firmly up to his belly button.
"No, I'm not, because the coffee tastes like shit," he said and gingerly side-stepped out of the row and exited the boat to the dock.
Carter was momentarily paralyzed by the remark and did not move a muscle. When James was securely out of earshot, he mouthed to himself, "Fucking unbelievable," while shaking his head in disbelief.
On Sunday morning Michael looked around his dorm room and started to make a list of all the things he needed to do to prepare for the move. First up was getting rid of the gross floor rug he had for the past three years that suffered from multiple coffee spills and various stains. It was really gross but still better than the cold tile floors of the dorm rooms.
He looked around and tried to decide what was worthwhile taking and what he might give away. There was already a built-in microwave and mini kitchen on the top floor of the brownstone. He thought he might be able to sell his own small microwave and college fridge to one of his friends. Apart from one bag of burnt popped corn, the microwave was alright. It already had the seasoned ramen noodle smell firmly entrenched in the yellowing white of the plastic perfect for the next student.
Michael opened the closet door and tried to take a serious inventory of clothes to see what he could keep and make a mental list of what he needed to get for his new job at the insurance firm. Most of his wardrobe consisted of jeans, t-shirts, shorts, and some well-worn sweaters for the colder months of the year. He only had one nice dress shirt and one suit for interviews. Most of the men he saw at the insurance firm he would be working at wore khaki pants and dress shirts along with dress shoes. He would have to go shopping at some point to bridge the gap.
He pushed up the desk chair against the side of his dorm room wall and tenderly stepped up. His ankle was doing much better but he still had to cautiously maneuver around when he did anything more than just walk around. Michael began to take down a corner of one of his posters when he heard a knock at his door.
"It's open!" Michael yelled back and waited patiently to see who would enter.
The door opened to reveal another one of the students at his school he vaguely recognized but was not familiar with. Someone from a class below him perhaps?
"Hi, can I help you? Are you looking for someone?" Michael asked.
"Kind of, my name is Matthew, I'll be moving into this RA single for the fall semester," he said and looked around the room beginning to size it up.
Matthew was tall and thin, but no-where near the height of Carter, and certainly did not have the musculature and definition. His hair was uncombed and looked like he might have just woken up a few minutes ago. He had on a pair of black Adidas slide sandals with three white stripes that covered the top of his foot fully exposing his toes, a pair of nylon shorts, and a white tank top.
"Well, this is going to be your new home pretty soon," Michael replied, "You can come in if you want."
Matthew walked in further and looked around in more detail paying attention to the layout of the furniture and the distance from the wall to the window. He was appearing to mentally move things around in his head and rearrange the furniture layout.
"Actually, is there any chance you're going to need a mini-fridge, microwave, or coffee maker?" Michael asked.
Matthew looked at the appliances in more detail and opened the door of the microwave to inspect it. He did the same with the fridge and found some bottled waters, yogurts, and leftover Chinese takeout inside.
"Yeah, my last roommate on campus had all this stuff so I was planning on buying it anyway," Matthew replied.
"OK, how about a hundred bucks for everything?" Michael asked.
Matthew looked around again and inspected the glass carafe of the four-cup coffee maker noting the burnt coffee stains on the heating element and countered, "Would you do seventy-five, instead?"
Michael got down off the chair and stepped closer to Matthew, "Sure, seventy-five for the fridge, microwave, and coffee maker" and extended his hand outwards to shake on it.
"Nice, I'll be back this afternoon to pay you if that's cool."
"Sure, I'm not going anywhere I'll be around. I guess I can just leave it in the room and put a note on it so the cleaning staff doesn't take if when the fall semester starts up."
"Yeah, that should work," Matthew replied and looked down at his watch noting the time and continued, "I told my friends I'd meet them in the quad at ten for some ultimate frisbee. Catch you later, man!"
Matthew quickly exited the room and Michael could not but help but feel that his time in the South End at the Brownstone on Friday night was like another world entirely. No more dinners of ramen noodles, the bro-dude culture of ultimate frisbee, uncombed hair, and mildewed shower curtains anymore. He was moving on into the gay world and things would be so different going forward. Michael wondered in hindsight how he actually lived like this over the past four years, there was no way he could ever go back.
By the afternoon he had taken down all of the posters and pictures he had hanging on his wall. Most of them were going to be trashed and he already had one garbage bag full of junk and was quickly closing in the second one. His textbooks were largely boxed up along with his school supplies at this point and the room looked naked. He was not even sure if his existing bed linens would even fit the new mattress in his new bedroom.
Just as he was thinking about the sheet issue he ironically received a call on his phone and it began to vibrate on his desk. The number identified it coming from "Carter Podeski" and he quickly pressed the green button to take the call.
"Hey Michael, how's your weekend going?"
"Hi, Carter! Good, just clearing things out and starting to pack up."
"Ahh, good to hear, and how's the ankle doing?"
"So much better, the swelling is almost gone and it's just a little sore but I can walk fine and going upstairs isn't an issue anymore."
"Nice, it looks like the sprain wasn't too bad then."
"Yeah, I had some pretty could medical care, though!"
"Haha, right on, right on. Anyway, I was calling to see if I could set up a time over this upcoming week to help you move in. My schedule is pretty free on Tuesday and Thursday nights, but what works for you?
"Um, yeah, both nights are good actually."
"OK, I talked to my friend Nancy in the housing office at Chandler and she said I would be able to get a new XL twin mattress for you any time after Wednesday. I guess they received a surplus this year due to a clerical error."
"Oh nice, yeah, I was having second thoughts about a used mattress."
"Totally understand. So, it sounds like Thursday might make more sense. I can bring over the mattress from work and then pick you up with your things at the Cramden campus. I have my Jeep, so unless you have a ton of stuff we can probably do it all in one trip."
"Probably, it's just a few boxes and my clothes at this point."
"Nice, it sounds like an easy move for you then. Let's hope the weather holds up for Thursday in Boston, it's been great here so far this trip."
"How's Provincetown, I've never been before."
"It's beautiful, sunny skies and cool nights so far this weekend. We'll have to take you down sometime in the offseason."
"And how's everything with... with James?"
"Oh, he's fine, I ended up telling him about how you slept in my room a few nights ago."
"Why? I thought you said he didn't need to know?"
"Yeah, like I said before it's complicated. I didn't go into detail about the shower though. But I also told him that we wouldn't escalate things as roommates and he's cool with that."
"Oh..."
"You OK?
"Yeah, I'm just trying to remember what's OK and what's not OK to say to him."
"Sorry, this is really all my fault. I should have just been honest with him and you from the start. But I didn't want to mess up your schedule for the start of the new job. Anyway, I just made a copy of the entryway key into the building and I can set you up with the app for the other doorway when I meet up with you on Thursday night."
"Great, is there anything else I can do between now and then."
"Yes, actually!"
"What's that?"
"Try and relax, man! Enjoy the last few days at college!"
"I'll try, but I'm really looking forward to moving in. Your place is so nice."
"Looking forward to you joining us too! Hey, I promised James I'd go with him to his fitting at the leather shop before we took the ferry back to Boston tonight."
"Fitting, for what?"
"Oh, I finally convinced him to get a leather harness and they made adjustments to it yesterday."
"Harness for what?"
"Haha, it's like the little black dress of the leather community. But they're more mainstream now, not like twenty years ago. I'll have to show you mine sometime."
"Uhm, OK."
"Talk later! Bye, Michael!"
"Bye, Cater."
Michael put down his phone and was having trouble making sense of the end of the conversation. Why would anyone need a leather harness? Why does Carter already have one? And what the hell exactly was a leather harness anyway?
He opened up his laptop and googled "gay leather harness" and switched over to the "images" tab of the search results. It was crazy with the number of styles, designs, and colors they came in. Some were simple ones that went across the chest connected by metallic loops and shiny silver gussets. Others were more complex that had adjustable straps and resembled belts. Then there were all different colors, from blacks, reds, blues, and yellows. Each color apparently signaled different interests as well.
Michael began to picture Carter wearing one. He wondered what color it would be and the sort of design it would have. Whatever style he chose, it probably looked hot going across his chest outlining the definition of his pectoral muscles. He closed his eyes for a moment to heighten the visualization experience and unconsciously put his hand down his shorts. He could see Carter clearly now as the leather stretched across his front. Michael was hard.
He turned off the overhead lights in his room, lay down on his dorm bed as he unbuttoned his shorts and began to pull down his white Hanes underwear. He tried to find the bottle of lube he kept nearby but could not locate it so Michael just spit on his right hand and began to go to work on himself.
Michael closed his eyes.
At first, he pictured Carter wearing a pair of jeans with the harness. The denim and leather combination seemed enticing and Michael gradually began to stroke himself. As the fantasy progressed he imagined Carter wearing nothing but the harness and his strappy black Chaco sandals with the toe loops. All that material tightly wrapped around his body, so confining, yet enhancing, of his natural features was hot.
He wanted to kiss Carter again dressed like this, in nothing but the sandals and the imaginary harness. Michael visualized himself pulling the central metal ring connecting the leather straps together on the front of Carter's chest toward him and going in for a deep kiss. He slowed the stroking action on himself and got lost in the imaginary kiss playing on his memories of the time he really did get kissed by Carter and got called a "good boy" by him.
More than anything, Michael realized he wanted Carter's approval. It was such an affirmation to have a guy like Carter tell him he was good or did well. He wanted to please him and he wanted to know in return that Carter was happy.
Michael spit in his hand again as the first round of saliva started to dry out and went back to stroking his cock and tried to replicate the same motion Carter used on him in the shower a few days ago. He put extra pressure on the tip of his head and used his thumb to squeeze when it rubbed over the top but it was not the same as before when he was brought to climax with little to no control over his own body. Michael was starting to get close and could feel the deep tingle inside his core near the prostate. He began to tense up as he stroked faster.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Oh, shit!" he thought as someone was on the outside of his dorm room door.
He continued to stroke himself and yelled back, "Who is it?" while the precum flowing out of his cock was streaming out.
"It's me, Matthew, with the cash", Matthew answered.
Michael sighed and blotted the palm of his hand on the sheets and began to pull up his underwear and shorts. He could not blow his load and face this guy a minute later. The precum that started flowing before began to permeate the thin white cotton fabric of his underwear and go into the outer material of his shorts. He got up out of bed and called back, "One second, I'll be right there."
Michael's face was visibly flushed from his aerobic adventure in self-gratification and fantasy visualization. But at the end of the day, he needed the money and made his way to the door and unlocked it.
"Is everything alright, man?" Matthew asked, "You look like you just got back from the gym."
"Yeah, I was just moving around a lot of boxes and stuff before you got here."
"Cool, anyway, I couldn't get exactly seventy-five, but I was able to get eighty from the ATM on the west side of campus. You have a five on you?"
"Umm, lemme check," Michael said and looked at the neatly stacked papers on his desk that he had yet to pack and opened a drawer.
He had a ten and some singles but not enough to make change for a five.
"I've got a ten- and two-dollar bills."
"Well, what about seventy for everything then?"
Michael smirked and rolled his eyes. More than anything he just wanted to go back to getting himself off and replied, "Fine, seventy for all the stuff," while exchanging the money.
Matthew had a dumb smile on his face for seemingly won an amazing negotiation deal angering Michael from the five dollars he just got cheated out of along with the timing of everything.
Michael extended his right hand, still moist and sticky, to go in for a handshake and finish off the deal. Matthew foolishly brought his right hand forward to accept the handshake.
"I hope you really enjoy the fridge, microwave, and coffee maker. I've had a really good experience with them and they've held up really well throughout the years," Michael said in a somewhat sarcastic tone all the while shaking Matthew's hand up and down in what seemed like an inordinate amount of time.
Matthew began to raise his eyebrows and question the excessive handshaking and withdrew his right hand from the shake noticing the dampness.
"OK... I should probably be going now," Matthew said as he turned around and left not quite sure of what just happened.
Michael stared down his back while Matthew receded into the distance of the hallway and then slammed the door a moment later.
He thought to himself, "Well, that was worth five bucks!"