Tristan

Tristan by Henry H. Hilliard

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Chapter 15

The flat lands of central Texas flew by. The lines of telegraph posts marked the rhythm of the journey, like the bars on music manuscript, and Tristan was reminded, once again, of that greater journey that he had embarked upon some nineteen winters before. How oddly unexpected it was that he should be in a new truck barrelling down a two lane rural road that lead to Madisonville--a place he had never heard of just a year ago. How far from home! But then he remembered, with a pang, that he had no home.

The boys talked about the semester past and the semester yet to come. "Hollis and Deshawn have pledged for the frat, you didn't want to?"

"Can't afford it, Tris, besides, I don't just wanna to be some moronic jock who yells, `par-tee!' and ends up with a beer gut and failing grades."

"Yeah, that's what its like in Pledge Master at Alpha-Mu."

"They're just jerk-off stories, Tris, I've told you that. Anyway, Holly and De won't be able to live in the frat house and I will just have to risk not having a network of brothers when I graduate. I'll make my own way in life. Do they have frats in Britain?"

"No, the older universities have residential colleges attached to them--you know like Christ College Oxford and Magdalene."

"So, what are y'all gonna to do? Are you even goin' to stay here, seein' as y'all hate it so much?"

"What are you going to do?"

"I'll guess I'll spend another year in Charles C. Selecman or maybe get one of those cruddy apartments like Hetch has."

"Or..."

Tristan had pulled up in front of a green-painted cafe in a row of stores. Colton had made noises about going to one by the interstate with a cutesy name--one of a chain--but Tristan by-passed it for a more charming one in the old centre of the town. It was homely and retro with mismatched tables and chairs on checked linoleum. They sat in the window with their plates of shrimp cooked simply.

"What's on y'mind, Roomy?"

"Well, I was thinking of getting a place off campus where we--several of us-- could share."

"You mean rent an apartment?"

"Well, I was thinking of a house and I was thinking of buying it."

"Wow! Y'all mean to start y'own frat."

"Something like that, but why shouldn't the girls share?"

"I'd be living in a sorority house! Imagine! There must be one of y'stories about that."

"Bound Jocks in Amazons' Dungeon."

"Can I read it?"

"Settle down, Jock Boy, I just made that up. I was just thinking of Leesh, Rachel and Alexinia."

"Tris, a house! How y'gonna buy a house? An' if you can, I mean, y'all have to 'range it so we all pay our way, fair n' square."

"I take it then that you want in?"

"Of course, Roomy, even if I have to go back to workin' at Nonno's."

"Look, we'll see about all that later. I will be getting Gran's inheritance soon and, in the meantime, I'm pretty sure Dad will advance me the money. I can always sell the house again, even if I take a loss. I was planning to charge you guys for utilities and stuff. Then there's food, but we can work out something. Maybe the others won't want to share and so an apartment would do just you and me. Maybe they'll be fighting to get in. I don't know. What sort of place would you like?"

"Well, there's all them big new houses out by Prairie Golf Course." Tristan pulled a face. "Don't tell me you want old shit? I might have known! Tris, with a new house you've got all the latest technology and...and..." He stumbled. "Be great if it had a pool."

"I want something with character and all that shit can be put in later. You don't really want a kitchen with polished concrete benches and all that middle class crap?"

"We'll, I'd like a cook-out set up like back at the cabin. I guess I don't care what the kitchen looks like, so long as the food keeps coming. Say, how we gonna feed ourselves?"

"I don't know. Like we did at the cabin? Or one person or a pair could take turns? If everyone can cook four things, why that would be problem solved."

"Does grillin' count?"

"Yeah. But not ordering in. We'd still have our Sunday nights at Nonno's, I'd imagine."

They ordered more coffee. "You know, out by the golf course or beyond the town limits will be too far for getting to classes, even if there are nice modern houses with pools. I don't think we should look at Sunset either," added Tristan mentioning the adjoining town. "That Silverado Chemical Company brings the whole place down and, you know, it caught fire a few years ago and they had to evacuate everyone to the University."

"That's a point. Bein' close would mean we could still eat in the Cafeteria and use the pool and gym. I'll still be trainin' too." Colton looked over the rim of his coffee cup at Tristan. "Roomy, you've got that look. You've found a place, haven't you?"

"Well, I did spot a house for sale. It is old and a bit run down. It has nice houses to one side, but it is a bit grotty down the side street.'

"Grotty?"

"Yeah, it means `gross'--but maybe not as bad. This house is very close to the University, in fact there are institutions nearby and the university owned it for a long time. It's just off William H. Taft Drive."

"That is close. Busy too."

"Yeah, a bit busy I think, but lively. Anyway, it might be sold already."

The boys resumed their journey, occasionally coming back to the topic. The other one was Tristan's training. Tristan had been able, by an occult combination of will power and technique gleaned from the internet, to deepthroat Colton like a pornstar. Colton saw this as a tribute to himself, especially when Tristan came virtually without touching himself.

"You really got off on pleasing me, Tris."

"Yeah. I'm a sub all right."

"Now, I did explain to you how to press it against y'cheek for variety?"

"Yes, Colt. Several times."

"And how to do a chipmunk?"

"I'm pretty sure I can't get both your nuts in my mouth, no matter how hard I try."

"We'll see about that. And bighting on m'nips?"

Yes, Colt. `Alternate with licking and don't make them bleed'."

"That's right. Leastwise not unless I ask y'special."

"And I'm not allowed to kiss you?"

"No, that would be gay. I'm not gay. No kissin' on m'lips."

"But I can kiss you anywhere else?"

"'xactly. That's not gay, that's...I don't rightly knows what it is, but it sure feels nice. Respectful too. I am the quarterback, after all."

"Perhaps you are just frightened that you are a lousy kisser," said Tristan, half amused.

"I might just have to prove to you how wrong you are, Tristan Isley. Why, I've had girls and growed women orgasm right then and there from one of my scorchers. They got wet and hot as Baird's Bayou and some was plum near to fainting."

"Perhaps it was halitosis?"

"Now, your just riling me to get me to lay one on y'all. It won't work. We need to get you a dude of y'own. You've got the skills. I look on y'all as my 'prentice. Though there's a few more things I got to learn ya."

"Speaking of that, I'm going to start preparation at the other end, but I might have a few rules of my own."

"Like?"

"No condom."

"You'd let me do you bare?"

"Yes, we've both been tested and you haven't had unprotected sex with anyone, have you?"

"No, but I better get tested again just to make sure."

The new semester started with a rush and Tristan and Colt almost didn't see each other for two days. However on the Wednesday Tristan had an appointment with Dr Baddeley. He was rather nervous.

"You off the meds, boy?" she demanded abruptly.

"Yes, after Christmas was my last one."

"And?"

"I'm feeling good. Happy--not manic--just, you know..."

Was that half a smile? Tristan couldn't tell. "Well, why y'sittin' in my chair, Tristan?"

"Well, Doctor...well, it's a personal matter."

"Got some girl pregnant? Stranger things have happened, or is it a smelly discharge? Seein' a lot of those lately."

"No!" Tristan said firmly and again wondered again how she kept her licence.

"It has to do with my sex life. You see there's this guy I've been dating..."

"An' you only suck n'swaller, from memory?"

Tristan was burning and wanted to melt through the floor. He could only nod, without looking at the monster.

"Who's the lucky dude?"

"Oh," said Tristan unprepared for this question. "He's a student here--Aggie student--with red hair and a..."

"And a what?"

"Limp--he has a limp from a tractor accident." Tristan wondered how he had dug such a hole. Why had he said that? He could not go on.

"And you want to have butt sex with him?"

"Isn't there a more delicate way of putting that, Dr Baddeley?"

"If there is, let me know. Now, bring him in for a blood test."

"Oh no,' said Tristan, now in a panic. "He has already had one. Goes to a doctor in Sunset. All clear."

"Just make sure. So what do you want from me?"

"Well, I was just wondering if you had any information--like health information and...and...and er...tips?"

Dr Baddeley roared with laughter. "You'll be wantin' more than `a tip,' I'll bet."

"You must be the worst doctor in Texas." Tristan found he was laughing too.

"Talk t'your partner, Tristan," said Dr Baddeley now in a serious mood. "That's the most important thing. Before, during and after. You need to establish trust. You know what I mean?" Tristan nodded. "Lots of lube--the booklet will recommend the best types and use protection." Tristan felt bad that he was going to ignore this last.

"Now where are those darn booklets? There's been a run on them with you boys," she added. Tristan saw her walk to the door and open it. "Tara!" she bellowed. "Gay boy here wants one of the books on buggery! Where are they?"

Tristan was struck dumb with horror. He leapt to his feet and raced to the door. The outer office was completely empty.

"Musta gone to lunch," said Dr Baddeley and handed Tristan a small volume with an anodyne title and a plain cover. "Be safe, Tristan, and enjoy yourself with your redheaded cadet."

"Thanks, Dr Baddeley. Aggie student, he's not a cadet."

"Oh yes, and with a wooden leg."

Tristan said nothing and put the booklet in his backpack.

An appointment had been made with the realtor to suit Colton's busy schedule--an hour between his last lecture and his team meeting.

"We're not driving?"

"No, we can walk there."

They passed the Cafeteria and the Stadium and walked along a slushy track at the side of the open grassed area where the students held a market during the warmer weather. They came to the busy road that was on the campus boundary and crossed it.

"You're taking me to the Mormon Church?"

"No, other side"

They entered Baxter Drive, an old fashioned residential street lined with trees that were now bare and vast expanses of unfenced lawns upon which sat small timber homes, the first of which was rather rundown. The second was set well back on a wide corner allotment. The narrow side street offered more glimpses of old houses, a few with chain link fences. There were no curbs or sidewalks. One side was the back of the large modern building used by the followers of Moses. Further down was the rear of the pink brick Episcopalian Church for the followers of Jesus.

However Baxter Drive itself curved gently away with hints of more substantial homes beyond. A small park along a creek was an attractive feature, but parked buses, presumably associated with the University or the religious institutions clogged the street so a thorough assessment was not possible.

"This is it," said Tristan simply.

Colton had not given the old house a second glance, thinking they would be going further along. "This place?" Tristan nodded, looking at him for a reaction. "I dunno, Tris, it looks pretty rundown, like the ghetto or somethin'. I was expecting a front door at least."

It was true, the front door was missing and the opening had been boarded up. Otherwise it was a wooden house, like so many others, with a low and spreading gable roof and a large porch that ran along the front and down the right side and whose roof was supported by tapering brick-and-cement piers. In the shingled gable was a pair of decorative window suggesting an attic floor.

"Chimney's nice," said Colton. "But the sidin' needs a coat of paint bad."

Dorothy Chambers, the agent, was standing on the steps leading up to the porch. She introduced herself. "We'll have to go around the back. The front door was forced by vandals a month ago and the owners took it off. It's inside waiting to be rehung. I'm afraid they did some damage with spray cans."

The rear yard was entered from the narrow side road. There was a fence but it was rebated so that cars could be parked off the street. "Is this land part of the property?" asked Tristan.

"Yes, there's no garage, but you can park four cars here."

They entered a small screened porch and then into a kitchen. It was gloomy and old fashioned, perhaps being last remodelled about 1970.

"Tell us about this place, Ms Chambers, why is it for sale?"

According to the realtor, it had been built in the early nineteen-twenties, when the University and the town were still quite small--the University originally being a mere college for those studying farming or wanting to go into the military.

"The builder was a man who ran his own dairy. They delivered milk right to your front door from wagons in those days. Then, when the dairy was bought out, it became a boarding house. You can still see the numbers on the bedroom doors. Then the Cadets had it during the War and then the University bought it."

They were looking around the kitchen, which did have an institutional feel.

"The University used it for visiting academics for a while until they built Graduate House. Then it was just used for storage and so on--old office equipment and the like.

They sold it to the present owner who was hoping to develop it for apartments, but the City said no. He tried to sell it to the Waxman Centre, but they didn't want it. Then--well, I shouldn't say it, but--well, the economy has been pretty bad and he would like to sell, if you get what I mean."

Tristan said nothing and they moved on. Through a swing door was a dining room. This was disfigured with a wall of cheap mirror tiles over which was now sprayed graffiti tags. The rest was lined with imitation timber, also sprayed. "Ugh," said Tristan and Colton in unison. Through a wide opening that was flanked by low glass-fronted bookshelves topped by square posts was a large living room with a fancy brick fireplace. Two windows gave onto the front porch. To one side was the boarded up doorway. Over one window the door itself was propped.

"Is there any other form of heating?"

"Was a furnace in the basement, but it doesn't work."

There was a large bedroom facing the street and another behind it. They smelled musty and every room seemed to have different carpet. There was a smaller one near the kitchen. "This was a maid's room. Look." A cupboard was opened and there was a bathtub and basin. "The maid couldn't use the same facilities as the owners," she said with half a laugh.

The bathroom was disgusting. They passed on. A narrow set of stairs rose to the attic. This was quite large, with a bedroom at either end, each with closets that went into the crawlspace. Between them was a large landing, almost a room in itself.

"I'll leave you boys for a minute if you want to talk in private. I'll be down in the kitchen." Ms Chamber's head disappeared below the railing.

"What do you think?" asked Tristan eagerly.

Colt could see he was enthused and didn't want to hurt him. "It's a great location as far as School goes. Don't know what the neighbours will be like."

"You mean the Mormons or the Crack House?"

"The rooms is pretty spacious, but it's a dump, Tris."

"I think it can be fixed up."

"At a price, maybe! At a price."

"I thought the girls could have up here. Maybe Alexinia and Carlos, if they're still a couple, could have one end and Leesh and Rach, the other, if they'll share."

"There's no bathroom up here."

"Yes, that's a problem. One will have to be fitted somehow."

"That will be expensive."

Tristan ignored this. "There are three bedrooms downstairs: Parker, Hollis and Deshawn."

"You're forgetting us, Tris."

"No I'm not. Let's go down."

Ms Chambers was anxious that they should see the basement, but Tristan wanted to go out the back. Off the screen porch was a rough door which when pushed open revealed that it connected to the large clapboard shed that occupied one third of the back yard. Narrow stairs ran upwards.

"This was the stable. The first owner kept his horses and carts here. You could park your cars inside if you took the fence down."

"What's upstairs?"

"I don't know. Shall we see?"

The stairs were solid enough, but very steep and narrow. At the top was a long space that ran the length of the building. A strange door and a beam revealed that it had been a hayloft. Before the rear lot had been sold, they must have brought in hay that way.

"I thought this would make a great bedroom--look at the size. Of course it would need fixing up, insulation, heating, a bathroom, electricity."

"Windows, doors, ceiling," completed Colton. "That would be a very big undertaking, Tris. It might just fall down."

"No it won't. This space must be forty feet long. You could have one end and I could have the other."

"If you say so, Tris," said Colton feeling a bit overwhelmed.

They retreated down the narrow stairs, Colton trying to imagine using them in daily life. A door in the kitchen led down to a finished basement. One part was a laundry room. Other areas were fitted with shelves where preserves must have once been stored. In a corner stood an ancient furnace that looked like one of those statues of Hindu gods with multiple arms.

"This was their storm cellar?" asked Colton. Ms Chambers said she imagined so. "It seems dry, Tris, could be another bedroom." There were high windows that let light in from the back yard. Tristan was glad that Colt had made a positive suggestion. His approval was vital.

They departed with printed details of taxes and so on and promising Ms Chambers they would have another viewing very soon. They walked back to the main road, crossed it and were then back on the campus proper.

"Tris," said Colton. "I can see why y'all like the place, but it will need to have tens of thousands spent to fix it up. It's a great location, that's undeniable. A powerful lot depends on being able to fix-up that old stable, though."

"You could bring Tammy. I know you'd rather sleep with her."

"No, y'all is a horse's ass enough." He punched him playfully on the shoulder, nearly knocking Tristan flying. "Seriously, y'should ask your Dad to come and have a look. D'ya think he would? Y'know, it might be a great way to involve him in y'life again."

Tristan knew that his friend was right, but he made a half-hearted noise and said, "Cylvah will probably want to give it a makeover. That's not going to happen."

"Ring him, Tris. Ring him tonight while I'm at football."

"Okay, okay! But let's just keep this whole thing quiet until something happens--I mean from the others. I've still got to figure that part out, but I want to do it myself. I just want to talk to you and Dad."

When Colton came back to the dorm after his team meeting, he immediately asked Tristan if he had phoned his father. "Yes, he will come down Friday afternoon."

"Well done, Tris. How did he seem about the idea of the house?"

"He didn't say, but that's like him. He wasn't against it. We'll see how he views it on Friday. Can you make 4:00?"

"Yeah. Games not until Sat'day night."

Colt settled down to his homework and Tristan read. When he had finished he made to go to the Common Room to relax with the others. "There's something I want you to see, Roomy," said Tristan. Colt came back and sat on the bed. Tristan produced a brown paper shopping bag. Colt looked at him questioningly.

The first object to be produced like a conjurer was a black dildo. Tristan was red with embarrassment. "Dr Baddeley's book said I should practice with various sizes when I'm relaxed. I've got expensive lube and other stuff."

"What other stuff?"

Tristan emptied the bag onto the bed. There were more dildos and three butt plugs. "The plug should be kept in for about twenty minutes each day. It has to be washed in bleach. I've got a little lockable box for a plastic dish for sterilizing the plug and the dildos. It's recommend to cover them with a condom. This applicator pushes the lube right in. Then there's this." He held up a mini douche. I'll have to clean myself out in the bathroom when no one's about. You don't want shit on your cock."

"Hey, Tris, I think what y'doin's great. I know it's a bitch, but it has to be done."

"You can buy a douche attachment for the shower hose. Have to get one for the new place. The training will take a few weeks because you are so big, Colt. It says not to do it every day and that I'll know when to move on to a bigger size and so on."

"Well let's get started then."

"What? I was going to do it myself, in private. You don't want to see me putting things up my arse!"

"No, it'll be hot, Tris. Of course I want to help. Y'all doing it for me too, remember. I can help you relax. Go and have a shower while I read the book."

Tristan returned and locked the door. "I think you should be in a jockstrap. That's how it is done in stories such as Training Tommy."

Colton put down Dr Baddeley's book and pulled off his tee-shirt and dropped his boxers. He searched in the basket for a jockstrap.

"No, the black one, I think." Colt resumed his search.

Eventually Tristan was naked on the bed. "Are you relaxed?" demanded Colton.

"Not really. I'm scared and embarrassed. What if I can't do it?"

Colton returned to the book, flipping from page to page and stroking his chin.

"Here, a shot o'Jack will help." One was poured from the decanter. Colt had one himself and wiped his lips on the back of his hand. "Legs up, Roomy."

"What are you doing?" cried Tristan in alarm.

"Dilating your sphincter. Just what the book says."

"Oh my God!" Colton's jock boy head disappeared from sight. Then Tristan felt his tongue on his anus. "Stop, stop!"

"Why? What's wrong? I can't be hurtin' ya."

"This isn't right. You're not gay. I'm supposed to pleasure you."

"Who says? I'm doin' this for you and you'd please me more if y'all would jus' shut up and relax and let Colt get back to work."

"It doesn't revolt you?"

"Nah. Just tastes o'soap. Not as bad as doin' a chick, some of them..."

Colt did get to work and he was clearly very good. His tongue muscle was strong, but he used his lips and rough stubble to great affect. Tris was moaning and, true to form, Colt took off his jock and stuffed it in his mouth.

Presently: "I can feel you opening up a bit, Tris." Colt put lube on his middle finger and around Tristan's hole and pressed in a little way. Tristan steeled himself not to tighten up and must not have because Colt said, "You're opening up, well done." He applied more lube and pressed deeper. He alternated his finger with his tongue, which caressed the velvety lining actually a little way inside. "That's two fingers now. How do you feel?"

"Pretty good, actually."

"You sound so British," he laughed.

"Are you enjoying it?"

"Must be, I'm real hard and leaking like a faucet. Look." Indeed Colton was cleared aroused. "Time for number one."

It was the size of a crayon and actually smaller than Colton's two masculine digits. The condom was a nuisance, so it was abandoned for number two, which was covered in lube.

"You'll need depth training as well as just stretching your sphincter wider, Tris. I want you to be able to take me balls deep." He waited quite a long time until Tristan said to press deeper. Then Tristan said there was not much pain and so Colton slid number two in and out. He added more lube and then pressed deeper. Tristan jumped. "Y'all know what that is, don't ya?"

The training session went on, with Colt complimenting Tristan frequently. Then he said, "It's been nearly an hour. That's all for tonight. The book said you'll be sore."

Tristan was almost sorry for it to end. Being praised by Colt was the nicest part, he felt. The rubber things were just that. It was the human part that was erotic, Tristan realised.

"What a great day, Tris," said Colton as he jacked himself. "The house, your ass and Jessica." He came and reached for the cum towel.

"Who?"

"Didn't I mention her? A chick in m'biology class. We got t'talkin an we're going out tomorrer night."

"Er no, you didn't." said Tristan who now felt that he wanted to cry. He moved to his side of the bed and tried very hard not to. Colton was quite oblivious and merely said they would be running in the morning and set his phone for six."

Please look for the next chapter. Henry would love to receive feedback and will endeavour to reply. Please email h.h.hilliard@hotmail.com and put Tristan in the subject line.