+++If any of you youngsters, less than 18, think this is a Halloween costume story you are totally wrong. If you think the "gay" in the title means that it is A multicolored hat, you are doubly wrong. Please scram And come back when you are over 18.
I am a freshman at MIT in New York City. The term is just underway two weeks. Now was the time for me to get a job at the uni to defray the high cost of living in New York City.
I decided to apply first to the Physics Department for a job in the lab. In that way I can use the job to punch up my resume. The best way to get a job is to go and knock on the door and apply. Sending letters or telephoning is dumb.
The outside of the old beat-up wooden door of the lab had faded gold lettering, Dr. Wilfred Himmelshlog. I knocked. "Who's dare?" came a Germanic voice from within.
"I'm James Gold. May I come in."?
"Vell, I am wery busy but ach yah."
He was sitting at his desk. I took him to be about seventy, a kindly grandfatherly type with drooping gray moustache. There were bubbling retorts and test tubes containing various colored liquids at the far end of the room. They produced a heavy chemical odor that made me cough.
I held out my hand to shake his, but he looked at me annoyed. "Don't you see I am occupied vith both my hands."
I know a little German from my maternal grandmother. I said, in German, "It is a pleasure to meet you sir. I am hoping to work here to help out."
He looked at me strangely. "Vhat kind of language ist dot."
"Why German. I thought you were of German origin and I...I..."
"I vas born right here in New York. Vhy vould you think dat?"
I said nothing further about "dat" but launched into my qualifications to aid him. I told him that I don't mind cleaning the lab or anything else needed. and my knowledge of lab equipment and such.
He listened politely. "Ve don't need dat. Ve haf cleaning service, but..."
His old eyes brightened. He picked up a baseball cap sitting on his desk. I decided he must be a nut, but he didn't put it on, he pushed it toward me. I examined it. It was maroon, actually had the Yankee's insignia. To me, an ordinary cap that someone may have left behind. This professor seemed to me to be daft.
He was smiling as he packed his large bowled curved pipe. "An ordinary cap you think, yah?"
I nodded.
"Look inside."
The inside was honeycombed with fine silvery wire. There were small terminals as well. I looked up, "Vat, I mean, what is this?"
He leaned back in his tilt chair and quickly righted it as it leaned too far. "It is a sexual reassigning generator. It meshes vid the areas of der brain that determine your orientation and rewerses it."
"You mean, if I was homosexual (of course I was) this would make me straight?"
"Yah, und the rewerse, hah. I hire you to test out this hat and report vid full details. I pay you $500 per test."
"Wow! I mean that's acceptable."
He gave me a notebook and put the hat in a paper sack, patted me on the back, wished me luck and pushed me out the door.
I stopped when I was outside the building and sat on the steps to gather my thoughts. I knew that if this hat really worked, I was in for some interesting adventures.
As I sat there, students criss-crossed the area in front of me. Just then, a big kid in a football uniform passed. MIT had no football team; maybe he was from New York University. Anyway I called out to him. "Hey football guy, come here a minute."
He came over scowling, pissed at being stopped. "What's up? What do you want?"
I introduced myself at a student here and lamely explained. "I bought this cap and it feels funny when I put it on. What do you think?"
"I think nothing. If it's no good, bring it back to the store. What're you some nut, some gay boy hitting on me?"
I can believe he gets hit on. He is one of those big blond guys with perfect teeth, wide shoulders and a pink white, hairless body. Maybe he was curious about the hat and me. In any event, to my surprise he came close and held out his fine shaped large hand. "Let's see it."
He grabbed it out of my hand and with a silly grin on his face, revealing that he was still a kid, he turned the hat this ways and that and finally stuck it on his head. I noticed that his face became expressionless, and his body stiff, then his expression changed from a kind of jock bullyboy into a nice looking pleasant fellow. He stared at me. "Say bitch, it feels okay to me, but I would never wear such a butch cap. First of all, it musses your hair." He felt his close-cropped cut. "Who ever talked me into this stupid haircut ought to be spanked."
At the word spanked, he made a kissy face and said, "Ooh, I do love the whole spanking scene. How about you doll?"
To tell the truth, he was a fine-looking dude, but in his present manifestation, he was too nelly for me. I took the hat back and began walking away. "He called after me, well, if you're too piss elegant for me..." I wondered how long his reorientation would last as I watched his mincing walk that seemed so incongruous with his football uniform. The question of the duration of the effect was answered later, about an hour. I added that to my notes when I figured it out, but now I wrote about the football player, trying to be scientific.
That evening I decided to do some cruising. I put on my cruising clothes. They consisted of really short white shorts and a tank top and slides. I had good legs, and the shorts showed them to good advantage. The tank top was brief enough so that my upper arm tats showed over my gym produced arm muscle.
Tad's Bar drew an odd mixture of tough guys who were truck types, as well as some younger guys, students and residents of the far-west Village. You had to be careful, some of the toughs came here to get drunk and enjoy hitting on the queers, "hitting" literally. Plenty of gays came home with black eyes. I had never picked up anyone here, but it was fun just to survey the scene. At five feet ten, curly hair and blue eyes, not to mention model's features, I get quite a bit of attention. It was notable as I opened the front door and stepped in. Every eye in the place turned and looked. Oh I hate that....not!
"Bud and a shot of Roses," I said, putting down a ten. The bill was immediately shoved back at me by a cute blond kid. He was dressed a bit like me in his own version of cruising clothes, the same, only different colors. While I am not overtly gay acting, this sweet kid was pretty swishy, but his cuteness mitigated the feeling of lack of interest of would usually feel toward that kind of kid.
I had placed the maroon cap on the bar. He took that as an opening to speak. "You play?" Smiling at the ambiguity of his question.
"You like my thing?" I asked throwing back the innuendos.
"May I?" he said without waiting for an answer, plopped the hat on his blond hair and looked at me in surprise.
"Something wrong Mary?" I asked.
He spoke in a deeper, somewhat depressed voice that pretty straight boys use to allay the suspicion that they might be gay. "Hey, it feels good. Makes you want to get out there and throw a few." He stared at me a moment, "You gay or something?"
"Not something, but yes gay. Why?"
"Well I don't hang out with your type, but you seem more presentable. How about we bang back a few of these and...see what happens?"
After three beers and shots, we were both loose. Bobby, that's his name behaved himself. No overt moves. When he was gay, an hour ago, he would have been rubbing my leg. Now all was changed. Although he knew that he had a gay guy and he could get blown if he wished, he was damned if he would make a move on me. S-o-o-o it fell on little me to get this show on the road. "Hey, you like blow jobs?"
"Sure, whenever I can get them, but girls are hard to convince."
"Ever had a guy?"
"Naw, that's too queer, but I would possibly do it if they didn't go anywhere else than my dick and didn't expect me to do anything. Yuk to that."
I leaned forward toward him. There's a guy here who would be glad to get you off."
He looked around drunkenly, but so cutely. "Where?"
I put my hand on his slowly swelling crotch. He jumped in alarm. "M-e-e-e," I purred.
He flushed. Oh how I love shy bois. "Where can we do it? The men's no good, they keep coming in and out."
"No, at my place. It's one block away."
"Gee, I don't know. It seems to planned." I watched the expression on his face go from reluctance to lust. Lust won. "Okay, but let's do it fast before I change my mind."
We walked together to my place. He kept lagging behind, trying to make it seem that he wasn't with me, but I kept slowing down to get next to him. What fun. I couldn't help thinking what a strange thing this was that this kid who had done many guys, judging from his very gay (former) demeanor, now living the lift of a straight. Uh, oh, I suddenly realized that he may be playing the part of a broke straight. I wasn't prepared for that. You know some trade can only submit if they get paid. It salves their conscience. "Hey Bobby, you're not selling are you?"
"No exactly, but if you want to contribute to my personal fund, I won't say no."
I let it hang there, not accepting or rejecting. Oops, now we are up the two flights, his nice ass in front of me. I steeled myself not o touch. I pushed open the door, he looked uncertainly at me. "I feel a little strange agreeing to this maybe I should just go."
I got on my knees, just inside the door, his back was leaning on it. In one motion I pulled down his little shorts, no underwear of course and put my hot tongue against his growing cock for a long slow lick. "Oh shit," he intoned, really getting into it. "I opened my mouth and swallowed him whole. My hand went around his ass and I petted his melons. He swatted my hand away. "No queer stuff," he said.
The blowjob had to be quick as my fish was getting restless. I let his average sized dick slide down my throat and began a rapid swallowing motion. He was wailing away, very gratifying for me. Let this boi enjoi.
Suddenly there was a high pitched laugh. "Oh girl, you are one hungry sucker. Leave off a moment and let me try yours."
He had reverted. I wanted that spooge, but not from a sister. I stood up and took his hand gravely, and shook it. "It's been nice." I opened the door and pushed him out.
Yeah, he reverted in exactly one hour. We shouldn't have wasted that time drinking.
I decided to check back with the professor, sort of give him an interim report. He was there, smoking his pipe, at his desk writing with a fountain pen. I guess 'puters were not for him. He saw me as I entered, "Hello Old Chap. How is the game going? It's been bloody busy here, but I will make time for you." My mouth was agape as all this was said with a strong British accent. I knew better than asking him if he was from England. I remembered the last time, but I did hazard a remark to show that I noticed.
"Good to hear the King's English spoken as in the mother country," I said.
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Suddenly his eyes lit up. He swatted his wrinkled brow. "Oh my, I fear those accent vials have been simmering and some of the vapor has reached me."
"Accent vials?"
"Oh yes m'boy, I developed these for the motion picture industry. Whilst the actor memorizes lines, the accent is taken care of by one sniff of the elixir that furnishes the required speech. Look, let me show you."
He crossed the room and picked up a test tube that contained a greenish fluid and took a sniff. He turned to me, "Ya see bud, this is mafia talk. Ya don't like it? Ya my find a dead horse in ya bed."
I had new respect for the talents of my mentor. I left with new resolve to find the research project. As I was leaving I bumped into a young guy just heading down the hall. I stopped and stared. He is just the kind of dude that really turns me on. He was slim, almost skinny, with raven dark hair tumbling over his smooth forehead and bringing out his impossibly blue eyes. He stopped walking and stared back at me.
He held out his slim, cool hand, "Names Gordon." He lifted his black eyebrows in a question, meaning my name be supplied.
"I'm Jimmy. Do I know you?"
He said, "I think I've seen you too.
I quickly catalogued Gorden. He was a straight guy, but one who was open to all experiences. How would the cap affect someone like that? Wound he become gay, or would he become more straight?
"Hey, I've been looking for a maroon colored cap. Where'd you get it? I'd like to buy one like that." He reached for it. "May I try it on?"
Well here it was, the big moment. I hoped he would get super male, or worse, a giddy gay. As the hat settled nicely into his full head of curly black hair, he jumped a little. "Hey, I feel strange."
I came up close to him. "How strange?"
"Like I need a friend."
I put my arm around him. "You got one. How about a friendly kiss?"
He nodded, and in a minute our lips was fastened on each other's and we were panting around the kiss. I felt his knees buckling against mine and I put an arm around his slim waist to support him. Without realizing it, my tongue wandered out of my mouth and met his in a secret intimacy. We held this for a while, both getting dizzy from the passion. At last we separated. He looked at me, deeply, "You're a keeper. Let's go to my place, my roommate is away."
As we walked, shoulders touching, to his apartment I checked him out, trying to figure why I was struck like lightning over him. Then I realized what it was, he was boyish, almost manly, but with gentleness and a sense of his own sexuality right on the surface. His appearance was remarkable, but it was the kind of appearance that I find very affecting, dark, straight black hair over his forehead, soft brown eyes, straight unplucked eyebrows, straight white teeth and a mouth that asked to be kissed.
He held the door for me. As soon as we were inside we picked up where we left off, kissing hotly, trying to remove our clothes while locked together, lifting legs to unlace shoes, finally we parted for the sake of efficiency in getting naked. What a sweet body he had, a small patch of black hair in the middle of his chest, slim, but muscled arms. His legs were a surprise, quite hairy and much more powerful than his overall look. When he turned for a moment my breath caught as I saw his butt. Just the kind I dream about, faintly fuzzy, the melon halves muscular and dimpled.
He took my hand and led me to his futon. We fell naturally into reverse positions, his generous hooded cock at my lips and mine at his. We both breathed audibly and moved our heads forward and licked the quickly stiffening organ in front of us. In a moment, we had both swallowed the cock of the other and we humming and moaning around it.
My mind was losing the sense of present as I slipped into an automatic mode of giving and receiving pleasure. I felt Gordon's hand around my back tightening. I knew from the thickening of his cock that he was going to give me the supreme gift soon. My concentration of giving pleasure made me miss the moment that my ball sac began to thicken and my balls traveled up to be at the base of my shaft. Gordon didn't. He stroked them softly making my rush to organism more precipitous. We both hugged each other tightly and rolled down the cliff together, crying out in terror and relief as our intense orgasms hit us at the same time.
When we recovered, Gordon asked. "Was there something magical about that cap? I felt a mood that allowed me to throw away the usual restraints and make such a pig of myself. It's lucky you felt the same, otherwise...
We wrapped our arms around each other and allowed sleep to overtake us. About an hour later we awoke. "Gordon," I whispered. "I'll be back in an hour. I have to see a certain professor." I grabbed the cap, kissed him on the shoulder and hastened back to the lab.
He was back at his desk. Did he ever go home? "Ah you'all . Glad to see ya, back at the farm."
"Uh, oh," he had been at the accent tubes again."
I gave him my notes and returned the cap. I had no further need for it. I also collected the $500, in cash from his hiding place under the Bunsen burner. Don't ask!
Back at Gordon's I knocked on the door. He answered wearing a terry robe. He said, "Hi, that was less than an hour, but it seemed long. Come on in. Do you want me to fuck you, or do you want to fuck me?
"Decisions, decisions," I said.
End