Right, this is my first submission, so encouragement and non-assholey critique is more than welcome. Of course, this story is of a sexual nature, and the sexual experience contained herein is between two men. If this is something that might offend or nauseate you, I strongly encourage you navigate away from this page. If this is a topic that strikes your fancy, I hope you enjoy. That being said -- I present my story. Tony TheMorpheusMachine@gmail.com
The Smell of Water
The smell of water always makes me think of him. The smell of water and that... presence. That looming presence you feel when a storm is coming. Or when you hear the ocean in the distance. That feeling of power. That raw emotion. That amazing fluid movement that seems to travel audibly through the air. It's a kind of pressure that you can almost feel on your skin. Almost. And sitting here in the moonless night, the lake close by, storm clouds building in the distance... it's impossible to not remember.
It started with my dreams.
I have the most amazing dreams. And I don't just mean they're fantastical. I mean that they are the most mind-blowing experience you could ever hope for. I could write pages and pages of descriptions -- I could grasp at words for hours trying to relate these incredible incidents. But it would all fall short.
People usually dream in snatches or fragments. There's a moment of passion or a beautiful sight surrounded by odd circumstances and people. There are objects at places they don't belong. But when I dream -- I create worlds. I interact with creatures you couldn't even begin to imagine. It is the most amazing feeling, and every time I have one of these dreams I wake up breathless with wonder.
I tell you this not to brag or to put myself above anyone else. Some of my dreams are stupid and pointless. Once I had a whole conversation with a kangaroo that lived inside a gumball machine. Pretty dumb, right? And the amazing dreams usually only happen once a week, or every other week. It's not like I'm some sort of dreaming pro. No, the reason that I tell you this is so that you can better understand what it means when I say that although dreams are amazing... my nightmares are worse by far.
Like most people, I had nightmares occasionally throughout my childhood. They were vivid and unpleasant, but bearable. But during my junior year of high school, they became... something unreal. Intolerable, would be a better word. I would wake up gasping for breath or in a cold sweat. Sometimes I would wake up so terrified that my legs would be running, my sheets kicked all over the place. It would take moments for me to calm down and stop myself. And following these moments there was no hope for sleep. No matter how tired I was, sleep became my enemy after one of those terrors. And it was because of these nightmares that I became an insomniac.
My inability to sleep followed me through my first two years of college. Late at night I would read, write, do homework. Sometimes I would listen to music or sit with people in the dorm that had "better" things to do than sleep. But during my sophomore year, I began to walk around the campus alone.
Don't get me wrong, I love being around people. People are great! I love parties and I kick ass when it comes to shooter games. I'm something of a renaissance man. I can talk to anyone about anything -- and I do. But after a year and a half in the dorms, you learn a certain respect for private space and alone time. So, between the hours of 2 and 5, I would stroll out and walk the various paths or sometimes wander the woods that nestled up against the dorms. Sometimes I would go to the athletic fields and look up at the stars in the sky.
Soon this became a ritual and, rain or moonshine, I would go out and travel the campus aimlessly. It helped to clear my head and calm my nerves. But my favorite nights were when there was a warm rain...
The constant sound of raindrops rhythmically hitting the cement and tapping against the structures was always soothing. It had a hypnotic effect as my feet splashed through puddles. Hours would slip away until I found myself back at my dorm and then I would slosh up the stairs, peel off my clothes, hang them to dry in the bathroom, towel off, and crawl into bed.
It was on one of these nights that I met him. It wasn't the first time I had seen him, but when we practically bumped into each other in the pouring rain, it was impossible for me to recognize who he was. His black hair was plastered to his head and his clothes clung to his lean body. His eyes were hidden by darkness as water collected and dripped off his angular features. I could tell from that brief glance that he was beautiful. And there was this sense of comfortable familiarity... But in that moment I was too surprised to do anything more than stammer out, "Um... hi?"
Yes, I know. The renaissance man and his smooth talking. It's a wonder he didn't pull off his clothes that instant, right? But in my defense, on top of the surprise of bumping into someone this late at night in the pouring rain, there was something else. It was something that I couldn't quite put a name to at the time. Looking back, I can tell you it was his presence. But in those minutes I was taken more by that unnamable quality than his striking looks. He... the way he held himself and the way his face was deep in thought and the way he seemed to defy the rain even as it rained on him... it was incredible.
We had looked at each other for a few seconds before I offered my confused greeting. Our eyes were indistinct in the darkness, but I could tell he was looking deeply into mine. And the second I spoke that single word with that audible question mark at the end, his lips turned up in a smile. And that was the beginning of something beautiful.
Rook Tiernay was a sophomore, same as me. He studied music -- specifically, he studied piano, although I didn't know that at the time. That night, when I first properly met him, he asked me what I was doing out in the rain.
"Just walking."
He smiled again, this time his white teeth flashing in the darkness.
"I see that. But where were you walking to?"
"Nowhere specific... just, ya know... walking."
"In the rain?" I could hear playfulness in his voice. I was glad it was dark because I could feel myself beginning to blush.
"Yes, in the rain."
"At three in the morning?" Although I couldn't see clearly in the darkness, I could tell he was raising an eyebrow as he asked the question. He knew somehow that I was uncomfortable, and was enjoying every second of it.
"Yes," I sighed, "At three in the morning."
I don't know why I was so awkward that night. I mean, of course I was thrown off by meeting someone in a place I expected no one. In all my nights of wandering the campus, the only person I had ever seen was Sam the security guard, and he only ever nodded at me as I walked past. I never had explain my nocturnal adventures. They were a secret part of my life and it made me somehow uncomfortable to be caught in the act.
"Would you mind if I walked with you?" His voice was sincere.
I was surprised. That was it. There were no more questions. He didn't care about my reasons nor did he give me any more of a hard time. He just wanted to walk with me. I was flattered. Confused, but flattered.
"Yeah, sure. Why not?"
We walked in silence. The rain was warm and gentle. The world slept as we each enjoyed the quiet company of the other. There was something comforting about him. Something that calmed me. I soon became lost in my world of thoughts and suddenly we were standing outside my dorm, both of us staring.
I don't remember anything in between. Just the sound of the rain and the pleasant sensation of having someone nearby. As we stood there I felt that familiarity again. Like I had seen him before.
"Do I know you?"
He shook his head, some of the water dripping off his nose as he said, "No, I don't think so. My name's Rook."
This time I was the one to raise my eyebrow.
"Like the chess piece?"
He nodded.
"Interesting. My name's Alex."
We stood for a while in silence.
"Maybe... I'll see you around sometime?" I asked.
He grinned widely at me as he said, "I sure as hell hope so."
And then he turned and disappeared like a phantom into the darkness. I didn't know what to make of him. His grin left me giddy. But I knew that I'd seen his face before. I couldn't stand it! Normally I was so good with faces. Especially good looking ones.
I shook my head at myself. Don't worry. It doesn't matter. You'll probably never see him again.
I saw Rook the very next day.
Just as I create worlds when I dream, I dive into them when I read. I was a student of English language and literature at the time, but I've always been a big book nerd. I'm the type of person you see reading as they walk to their classes. And during lunch, I loved going to the student center, grab some food, and read in this big common room in a plush armchair.
There were these huge windows at one end that let in lazy sunlight. And in the corner there was a beautiful grand piano that music students would often play at. So, when I wasn't meeting up with friends, I would find a chair close to the piano and eat as I read.
I walked into the room transfixed. The book I was reading -- magnificent! It was one of those novels that drew you in so completely that you feltwith the characters. You felt their pain, their anguish, their triumph, their success! The world was dead to me as I plopped into my plush chair, some soup in one hand, my book in the other, and a spoon hanging carelessly from my lips. The music was distant as I cracked open the top of my bowl and continued turning pages.
This went on for the better part of an hour, and slowly people began filing out of the room to their classes. I didn't have a class after lunch, so I continued to read. In the middle of an elegant run of notes, the music stopped.
The air was thick with sunlight and silence. I turned the final page in the chapter I was reading. You could hear the page swish. I sighed as I finished those last words. "Far away a crow caws. The Earth slowly keeps on turning. But beyond any of those details of the real, there are dreams. And everyone's living in them."
My soup was cold. My heart trembled with those words as I stared into the yellow rectangles of sunlight that painted the carpeted floor. Little bits of dust caught the light and rode on faint currents in the dead air. **
There are dreams. And everyone's living in them.
"Alex?"
The voice came from behind me. I heard it. But I was still so lost in my thoughts that I couldn't acknowledge it. I could feel someone standing behind me, but it was like being woken from a vivid dream. Everything was far away.
I felt a warm hand rest on my shoulder and again the voice.
"Alex?"
I turned quickly, finally snapping out of my small world to see Rook standing behind me. His crotch was level with my eyes and I looked at it for a second before my eyes crawled up his body to his face. He was leaning toward me. His black hair fell into his eyes.
"Oh. Hi. I... was just... reading this. I didn't know you were here. Um. Hi Rook."
He was laughing and there was mischief on his face. I began to blush, feeling like I'd missed something.
"What? Is there something in my teeth?" I pursed my lips and began sliding my tongue around my mouth.
"No," he leaned closer to me. Our faces were inches apart. He smelled of citrus and soap and his breath was sweet against my face. His eyes were the color of dark honey. My lips, however, were still pursed and my tongue was in the front of my mouth and I looked like a complete idiot. He brought his hand up and in my peripheral vision I could see him point at my crotch. I felt myself begin to bone up.
"You've got soup on you."
I looked down at myself. Yep. There was soup down there alright. It was all over my jeans, on my shirt... wonderful. Just wonderful.
"Shit."
I jumped up and tossed my book on the floor, reaching for some napkins in my pocket.
"Here, give me some of those," Rook said.
I handed him a few as I began dabbing my pant leg, trying to get the big globs off first. Just my luck, tomato basil soup all over my jeans. And I looked great in these fucking jeans! Son of a bitch!
That's when I felt him touching me. He gently rubbed the napkins on my shirt in a way that was more of a caress than anything else. I looked up at him as I continued to dab at my jeans. I could feel my cock throbbing with excitement beneath the fabric. He was looking directly into my eyes.
"I'm sorry about your shirt," he said, never breaking eye contact.
"I could care less about this shirt. But I love these jeans."
"You should," he gave me roguish smile. "You look great in them."
"I do? I do. I mean, yes, I do."
I was floundering here. I was completely pathetic. I freely admit that I've never been so struck by a person as I was by Rook, and that is the only defense I have for my witless response. But Rook took it all in step, seeing beyond my idiotic awkwardness in the way only he can.
"If you want, we could try to get the stain out." He never looked away from me as he said this. His eyes were intense. His hands moved gently over my stomach.
"Um... sure. What do we need?"
"Just take me back to your dorm room and I'll show you."
Now that, gentlemen, is what I call smooth. How could I resist?
"Ok. Let's go."
"One sec. Just let me grab my books."
As he turned back to the piano to grab some music books, I adjusted my erection down my pant leg and covered it with my novel which I grabbed off the floor. He turned back to me.
"Alright," he smiled electrically. "Let's go get you out of those pants."
My room was always dark. They had those stupid fluorescent lights in the ceiling and they sucked the life out of the room. Also, when you read as much as I do, you realize that certain light is good for reading -- other light, not so much. Fluorescent light is on the "not so much" side of things. So I exercised my only logical option. I loosened the bulbs so that even if the switch was flipped, they wouldn't turn on and brought in two lamps.
My desk lamp was small and probably older than I am. I have it to this day. It's base is a deep brass, the body of it a wood with a simple design, the lampshade an off white color with faded green leaves plastered at random in a decorative pattern. When I turn it on it gives off this wonderful golden glow and creates a gentle sphere in which I can safely live in my book world.
Whereas I thought of my desk lamp as an old friend, the floor lamp was a bossy bitch (if a lamp can be called such a thing), but it had a style all its own. It cast a strong, inoffensive glow about the room and I turned this one on when I had company so that people didn't have to sit around in twilight.
My shades were usually kept drawn against the sun. Frequently I would come back to my peaceful room, kept cool by the deep shadows, and catch a short nap or study.
Keys rattled, a lock snapped open, and the door slowly opened, allowing the hallway lights to spill in to my dark sanctuary. We entered and the door closed swiftly behind us. Faint light trickled between the spaces in the blinds. I could feel him standing close behind me. I walked forward and switched on my desk light, creating an easy dusk in the welcome gloom.
He stood about three steps away from me, wrapped in shadows. His dark hair slightly in his eyes. The contrast between light and dark make him look especially lean, and his eyes gleamed with an impish lust.
He crossed those three steps in an instant. It was like he hadn't moved. It was more as if the distance between us had simply vanished, bringing two parts that belonged together close.
"You have... such beautiful eyes." His voice was a husky whisper. I could tell he was looking at the slight wedges of grey that briefly interrupt the near perfect green circles of my eyes. His breath was on my lips. His eyes half closed as he leaned in and gently kissed me. It was soft... the gentlest kiss I've ever received. But behind that gentleness was a passion that made me weak. He barely brushed my lips with his kiss, and continued to do so as I felt my belt unclasp. I could taste his breath now.
My pants fell to the floor.
We parted and there was this dreamy look in his eyes. I could see pure contentment in the warm brown color, his smiling lips making me want to press myself against him and connect with him again. I leaned in slowly, but he brought up his finger and placed it on my mouth. His fingers were soft and strong.
"First let me make good on my promise."
He put his other hand on my shoulder, and slowly sank down to the floor, trailing his hand down my chest and abs as he descended. His tousled hair brushed against my sensitive erection and I couldn't suppress a shudder. That hand traveled down my thigh and calf, until it rested at my feet.
"Step."
I lifted my foot, spellbound at his beauty and control. He removed my pant leg from my foot and looked up at me, his white teeth gleaming in the weak light.
"Come on, now the other," there was tender laughter in his voice as he said this.
He picked my pants up off the floor and reached out his free hand for mine. The pads of his fingers were like velvet against my own. The contact was so soft, it seemed unreal. He lead me to the bathroom and switched on the light.
"Do you have an extra toothbrush?"
I nodded and walked past him to the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. My penis was as transfixed by this boy as I was, and it bumped the sink as I reached for the toothbrush and handed it to him.
He leaned forward again to offer me another gentle kiss and rested his forehead against my own, breaking our contact to whisper his next question.
"And toothpaste?"
I handed him the tube. His hand slipped out of my own and he rinsed my pants with warm water and applied some toothpaste to the stain.
"I don't know why," he said, "but this always worked for mom."
He scrubbed lightly at the stains with the toothbrush, turning his eyes to me again as he continued his work. In seconds he was done.
"Now just let these dry and when you wash them they should be as good as new."
We looked at each other, the sexual energy thick in the air. He smiled sinisterly at me.
"Well, I better get going..." he turned to leave.
"Like hell you are!"
I rushed forward with those words and pressed my body against him. We had played his game long enough. It had been fun -- now it was my turn. I mashed my lips against his, our air mingling together in a sweet union of breath. My hands went around his head, pulling him as tightly against me as I could. His hands spread over my back, one on my waist pulling me tight to his body and the other between my shoulders pressing our chests together.
We battled back and forth, our young lust inflamed by our need for each other. My hands were twisting through his hair as his mouth came down my neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there. We staggered out of the bathroom, our twining limbs groping and touching and pulling and grasping. Our mouths hungry for each other. Saliva was slick on our lips and on my neck as I ground my crotch into his. He thrust his hips back in response.
Our shirts came off without us parting. Hot skin rubbed together, the friction tantalizing as I began to nibble at his ear. He gasped as my warm, moist breath sighed across that sensitive area. My hands were fumbling with his pants as we tumbled onto my bed.
I pulled him back up to me as he kicked his pants free. Only thin fabric separated our incredible desire. I was lightheaded from the sensations, from the lack of air, from the raw sexual energy between us. My breath was ragged and gasping, as was his, but we came together in another urgent kiss. His hair was feather soft as he lowered himself to suck at my nipple. I threw my head back and exhaled loudly as he worked my tit, my one hand stroking his hair as my other grasped his stiff cock through his shorts. His hand played with my other nipple as the other slipped beneath my waistband to massage my ass.
In one furious motion he stripped me, and looked up at me with sex in his eyes. The heat in my room was unreal. I could feel him slide against me as he lowered his mouth to the head of my cock. His tongue toyed with my piss slit before slowly engulfing my bulbous head. He stayed like that a while, swirling his tongue over the head of my dick, his hands still tweaking my nipple and massaging my ass.
My back arched as I grunted and thrust my hips. I wanted more. He obliged by going farther down on me, his soft lips moving inch by inch down my shaft. He pulled up for air and although I immediately regretted his absence, I pushed him down on the bed and tore off his shorts, eager to reciprocate.
His member sprang free of the fabric, audibly slapping against his lean torso. I reached to message him and toy with his balls even as he moved back to my crotch, consuming me once again. I was panting wildly as he continued to swirl his tongue. His hands trailed all over my body now, one moment caressing my thigh, the next my chest, the next massaging my boiling balls. They brushed against my hole and continued to rub my ass cheeks.
"No, not yet," I panted. My hands hooked beneath his armpits and pulled him up to my face. We crushed together, kissing violently. I then traveled down his neck, stopping to tongue the hollow of his throat. My hands stroked and touched and jerked him slowly as I made my way down his body. I gently glided my tongue around his nipples, down the center of his chest, between his faint abs. My hands followed my journey, tracing sensually the areas my tongue had missed. My fingertips found the contours of his muscles and lightly dragged down them as I came face to face with his beautiful dick.
My hands went to his ass, each hand working a cheek as I quickly went down on him. I could feel him shudder and hear him groan as I returned the favor. I licked up and down his shaft, oiling it with my spit before I swallowed him down to his pubes. He bucked his hips wildly, trying to get deeper into my warm mouth. He whimpered as I moved up to the head of his cock and swirled my tongue. Then I felt his warm hands on my face and he pulled me up, my sweat slick body sliding against his as we met again in a passionate kiss.
"Condoms?" He asked breathlessly.
I rolled to the side of my bed, tore open a drawer, reached in, pulled one out, and then returned to this sexual god before me. I heard him tear the foil even as his fingers began probing my hole. First one, just loosening me up. I needed him, I thrust hard against his digit as he slipped the condom over his dick.
Two fingers now. My cock was hard against my stomach, and soon my hands were jerking my meat and playing with my balls even as I thrust against his long, powerful fingers.
"You ready?" He gasped.
I flexed my abs, picking my back off the bed and reaching my hand to catch him around the neck, pulling him into a fierce kiss.
"Is that a good enough answer?" He grinned in response.
I could feel his head at my hole now and I relaxed as he pushed in. First it was only the head. He moved slowly. Deliberately. And as he stretched my tunnel he leaned forward to kiss again.
I felt the overwhelming burst of pleasure as he rubbed against my prostate. I whimpered out loud, nearly cumming as he pushed deeper inside me. As his pubes brushed my ass, our eyes locked again. His were a mix of pleasure and joy and completeness and lust and as he looked at me I knew he loved me as well.
He stroked my sweaty sides as he pulled out and slammed into me again. Soon he began fucking in earnest, his hips moving quickly, his face dripping sweat onto me, his body flushing with sexual energy as I moaned and cooed and thrashed on my sheets. I began to buck against him as his hands began playing with my sac. My hand pumped furiously along my shaft. I could hear his balls slapping against my ass.
"More!" I shouted. He picked up the pace, his hair separating into sweaty strands, his eyes becoming lost in ecstasy, and in the final moments of that glorious fuck I closed my eyes as we both climaxed.
I could feel him pulsing inside me the moment I shuddered in my own orgasm. Cum spattered against my abs and chest. He rested back on his calves, panting, slowly sliding out of me. I breathed ragged breaths as I stared up at him. He fell forward, stopping himself with his arms just above my naval. He licked his way up my stomach, swallowing my cum as he went. He lapped his way up to my neck and then we kissed again, our sweaty hair mingling on my pillow. Still holding each other, our sweaty bodies glistening in the soft light from my desk lamp, we embraced and smiled tiredly at each other. We fell asleep looking into each other's eyes, our limbs comfortably tangled as we both departed to a land of warm darkness.
The last thought I had before falling asleep in the arms of this vibrant, sexy man was this: But beyond any of those details of the real, there are dreams. And everyone's living in them...