Some Male Librarians Are

A Librarian Between the Covers

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Project of the Gay-Steet-Irregulars

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This is a work of fiction.

Any resemblance to actual locations,

or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

All characters are 18 or older.

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I watched intently as his ass moved in his slightly tight pants. Ascending the stairs to his apartment ahead of me affording this lovely vantage. This was it. I was about to have my desires and fantasy fulfilled with this sweet man. Tonight, if my luck held, would be sublime. It took a while to get to this point though.

*.*.*.*.*.*

Let's go back a few decades. To the sixties. Hardly the good old days some make them out to be. Homosexuality was illegal in England and many American states. Even saying the word carried a disgusting, negative connotation.

I had asthma and was small for my age. Poor lungs, no stamina and always picked last for teams in gym class. I got side lined a lot. There were a couple other guys also sidelined. One was uncoordinated, another unable to cope with competition. And one was outright taunted as a fag. Collectively were labeled the 'fragile kids.' So it was I fell in with other less than acceptable specimens in my school. Of course, then there was the school kid bullying, guilt by association and we were all labeled faggots.

As it developed, our little gang grew into friendships. Other than awkward and asthmatic, some guys were effeminate. Some very, some slight and tried to hide it. Kenny was a gymnast and swimmer with a body to match. Don was a gifted musician and singer. Robbie was a great story teller and practical joker. Other than reading a lot, I had no talent going for me.

Mom pushed me in to piano lessons, which I no patience for. It was torture. Then I discovered drawing. They put me in art lessons with a guy in a private studio. I discovered the human form. I learned landscapes, homes, castles, horses and the obligatory still life. But the human form! Faces were tough, but bodies in pen and ink came easily.

I blame my appreciation for the human form directly on my school district. They had these young people arts field trips to symphony and theater performances. And to big city art museums. The Greek and Roman statues captivated me. I wipped out my sketch book and drew what I saw.

I was an early watcher of how people moved, what their muscles looked like. A sixth grade trip to a big art museum became mesmerized by the Greek statues of both men and women. And while the other boys with just emerging raging hormones made embarrassing, lewd, comments about the human body -- and the girls simply turned away in embarrassment, I was glued to the figures.

Male and female figures. Curves, indentation, how the bottom met the back of a thigh. Lats on the men and breasts on a female figure. Over time I realized the sculptures were idealized. Perfection. Well defined in marble. Although I could never figure why male genitalia was a jumble of hair and ill-defined flesh. I knew it should be defined and as beautiful as the rest of the figure.

There was no thought of sex. Only anatomy. Form, curves, finger positions, how a toe touched the ground, the shape of a calf and the definition of the chest.. I devoured anatomy books. Found art books in the library and poured over them. I made tracings of some paintings. I'm certain the librarian thought I was just exercising a hormonal interest. But it was purely the shape, the artistry, the beauty of both in the human form.

On one museum visit a teacher confiscated my sketch book. I ended up in the principal's office accused of making lewd drawings. I was sentenced to three nights detention. I went to the library and brought my favorite Greek art book to the mandatory parent conference and demanded to know the difference between my work and the statues.

In addition to being labeled fragile I was now a trouble maker.

Don and I became assistants in the high school library, which didn't help the stereotype any. With all the time in the library, it felt natural. Of all the library assistants, in any grade, we were the only two guys. Working in the school library led to an after school and summer job in the town library. I found my calling.

At the public library I did the same thing as the school library. Shelve books, help people find stuff and check out books. But I also discovered what happens in the back rooms. At some point I was sent down to the cataloging office to pick up some new arrivals and met the only male on the staff. Chris was average height in his early thirties and very slim. Up to then all my knowledge of people who work in libraries was they were women. Except for me and Don.

I found excuses to visit Chris in his office. He was soft spoken and difficult to get a conversation going. When I saw him in the building, I noticed how he carried himself and especially his clothing. For working out of the public eye, he was always fashionably dressed. Not to excess, but just sharp. I liked his beard. Jet black and close cut. More than a five o'clock shadow.

I had no idea what a cataloger was, but once I started asking questions he opened up. I even got him to laugh once in a while. He confessed he hated working with the public so working alone in an office suited his personality. And I always thought librarians loved helping the public. I hung around enough that he began explaining exactly what he did each day. It looked boring, but being around Chris was stimulating. He was the first adult to engage me on a near equal footing.

I turned eighteen in January of my senior year and our little circle of special friends had grown very tight. Somewhere along the line we started talking about clothing. We discovered GQ, then Esquire. We flipped thru the pages admiring the men and the fabulous clothing we all knew one day we could afford.

Don took dance lessons and we would meet in his garage and he would teach us what he learned. Our little posse became popular at school dances. It was too easy to ask girls to dance. Because we weren't interested in girls that way. Yet. They loved us because we could dance -- really dance, unlike the football players and the cool kids who somehow became awkward on the dance floor.

One day visiting Chris in the basement, I noticed a copy of GQ on his desk. A major advantage to working in a library is access to dozens of magazines.

I pointed to the GQ, "You read that a lot?"

"Sure, you know GQ?" he replied with a touch of surprise.

"Yea, me and some friends devour it. I bring them back issues from here sometimes."

"Really, what attracts you to GQ?"

"I dn'no. How the guys look in the clothes. We talk about being sharp dressed and finding clubs to go to in the city."

"Ever been to a city club?"

"No. We can't drink and have no wheels. Maybe in college. How 'bout you? Do you get to clubs?"

"I do actually. Not as often as I like. The evenings get expensive and librarians don't make the money the "beautiful people" apparently make."

"You dance?" I asked hopefully.

Chris looked around as if someone might be listening, "Yes. I love to dance. I love to dress well and I love watching other people having a good time. Kind of weird I guess."

"No not at all. Me and a couple guys, the guys who look at GQ, we all practice dance moves together. We get real popular at school dances."

"Really? Gets you the girls hmmm....?"

"Well, it's not really like that. I mean, some of the guys, well, it's mostly for the dancing, you know?" I stammered an answer that meant nothing.

"Oh, I see. Just for the dancing."

Chris and I became work friends. Gradually, mostly thru inuendo and inference, we came to a mutual understanding exactly where our interest in other people lay. Our quips became laden with double meanings. We were masters at the double entendre.

Chris was clearly interested in men, I was more complicated. I couldn't help but wonder how Chris would react if he knew my 'interest' in men and women were in equal measure.

When the next edition of GQ arrived, I personally delivered it to his office.

"It's here," I announced joyfully as I delivered the magazine to Chris with a flourish.

"Oh, excellent," he beamed. "You looked at it yet?"

"Oh no sire," I bowed in jest. "Tis for thine eyes." I have no idea why I made it into a faux Shakespearian line.

"Perfect, a virgin magazine then," he quipped as he flipped it open to a random page.

"If there is nothing else, my liege, work awaits anon." Nervousness breeds odd behaviors.

"Off with you then," he shooed me away. "A am in your debt for this you know. How EVER can I repay you?" said with a leer in his voice and body language. "By the way, what section is yours again?"

Each assistant had a section of books to keep in order. "Still the 500s." I replied halfway out the door.

"Good, I know where to find you."

"I shall leave bread crumbs," I called over my shoulder. Flirting? We're flirting now? I hope so.

Chris and I continued our flirtations until I left for a summer trip to Europe before starting university. He would find a reason to pass through the 500 section when I was there. He made a production of "squeezing" past me in the aisle, even though there was plenty of room. All it did was fuel my desires. Which turned to hunger. I wanted to feel more of him.

"You come here often?" I teased during one of these encounters.

"Oh, I come as often as I can."

"Really? Sounds like we have something in common then," I smiled, inches from his face.

"Sounds like we have similar taste in friends too."

On another encounter he slid past behind me and held my waist. He started at the waist and slid up my torso to under my arms. His finger tips reaching around to my chest. His hands were wide and warm. Stimulating.

*.*.*.*.*.*

As I hoped, my adventures in Europe broadened my perspectives in more ways than one. Traveling alone was a boost to my self-reliance and confidence.

Flash forward to college. I became a history major with a French minor. History required a lot of reading, which I was good at; and French? Well, French is a sexy language. I was comfortable in libraries so I got a job in the university library. I also gravitated to the drama department and spent a lot of time working backstage.

Never desiring to be an actor, theater people held great appeal. So many were comfortable with themselves. It was an easy place to find like-minded people. And the best place to find the next "liberated" party for the weekend.

Late May I returned from college and wandered into the public library looking for a job, and Chris. We had corresponded by letter (hey it's the 70's) a few times. Secretly I hoped for lurid, inuendo filled text, but it was pretty vanilla. He did ask if I found anyone 'special.' I was too eager to share the exploits in Europe and the theater folks I spent weekends with. But I only hinted at the scene.

The library director welcomed me back and said I could start anytime. She also asked if I had any evenings available. The library was open till eight four nights a week and there was always one professional staff on duty along with one or two assistants. Chris, being professional staff was obligated to cover one evening a week. First thing I did was check the schedule and write my name in on the nights Chris was on.

After talking with the director and hijacking the evening schedule, I headed downstairs to find Chris. I just slid up to his door and leaned against the frame trying to be nonchalant.

Without a word, Chris was on his feet and we embraced like long lost friends. We were about the same height. It was comfortable. He held me close but backed away, looking at my face. Then he kissed me. Soft, gentle, warm. I returned the gesture in-kind. I felt the warmth of his tongue slightly trace the outline of my lips.

For a moment I stopped breathing. He broke away, pulled me in the office and looked up and down the hall checking for witnesses.

"That can't happen again. At least not here," he said in a hushed tone.

"Hey, you started it sweetheart..."

"Shhh," he hissed, finger to his lips. "Not so fucking loud."

He returned to his desk and motioned to the chair jammed in the corner of his crowded office.

"It IS nice to see you face to face. The letters aren't the same, are they." It was a statement rather than a real question. "How's college life treating you? And the Europe backpacking trip. I never heard all the details of that either."

"College is working out pretty well. I got a job in the library. They love me. And I hang around the theater a lot. Doing back stage stuff. That's where I made most of my friends."

"So, I gathered from your letters. Reading between the lines that is. Ohooo, theater people, any juicy stories?" The lilt to his voice markedly changed with that last line. It was dripping with a gay, gossip desire to hear the details.

"You don't want to hear my stories. You've been to college, you have your own, which perhaps you will share with me sometime?"

"Well, things were different ten years ago. People were buttoned up and so closeted that even their friends didn't know. I'm hoping things might be a little more open for you?"

It was the first time we openly acknowledged our true nature to each other. A breakthrough.

"I don't know. There's this Gay Alliance group that started this year, but it's like going to an AA meeting. Very DL."

Chris shrugged.

"We did get to a couple bars in the city though. THAT was an experience. I wasn't ready for the guys wearing cowboy chaps and the bare asses. The in-your-face flaunting was like sensory overload. A couple of the others really got into it. It's like they became bi-lingual." Even as the words came out, I couldn't help but think how the double meaning to 'bilingual' applied to me.

"Oh, by the way, I signed up for all the evenings this summer you have to work."

Chris tilted his head and raised and eyebrow, "Did you now."

"Look you need to work and I need to go."

Standing in the door as I was leaving, I spotted a male face peeking out from under a newspaper. Curious, I pushed the paper aside as we finished talking.

"Hey, what.." Chris objected to my curiosity. The cover photo was a chiseled young guy wearing an Hawaiian lea. And obviously nothing else.

"Wow, nice photo."

Chris turned beet red and flipped the magazine over only to reveal a full-page ad on the back featuring two men in speedos running on a tropical beach. He flipped the newspaper on top of it.

"April issue of CIAO. It's real new. Comes out every other month. I thought I could skim it at lunch but I really need to leave it at home."

"Maybe I can borrow it after," I licked my lips. "I'll leave you to work, and leer at the photos. Remember, I'm your assistant for night duty next Thursday." Saying 'assistant' was as dripping as I could make it.

*.*.*.*.*.*

The after-work crowd in the library thinned out that Thursday. Young moms with kids. The odd patron looking for a mystery or a 'how to' book. Around seven I hopped up on a stool behind the circulation desk a few feet from Chris.

Chris left his sport coat hanging on the back of his stool giving a clear view of him head to shoes. He wore white dress slacks, just nicely snug around his ass and a pale coral colored button-down dress shirt. He looked professional and hip at the same time.

"How you holding up?"

"With what?" he asked back.

"Dealing with the public. Coming out of your dungeon to deal with the day dwelling creatures."

He laughed out loud at that. "That was very clever and a perfect description."

We talked in the hushed tones that librarians are noted for. I told him about Europe only hinting at the lurid details that I desperately wanted him to ask about. Then I turned it around.

"How about you? Getting to clubs more often? I hear New Hope is a great place. Only, what, an hour from here?"

"I like one of the bars there, but I can't afford to go every week. The other big bar is too loud and, I don't know. Just loud. I guess I'm really conservative what it comes to, you know, things."

I'd never seen Chris flustered like that.

Seven fifty he announced we would be closing and I made the round of rest rooms, conference rooms, offices and all the nooks and crannies that gave a library built in the 1930s character.

We met at the back door. I waited for Chris to lock up. He looked up at the light above the door. "Light's out. I need to write that up tomorrow."

There was an awkward pause. Lights from the parking lot created only shadows. I had no restraint and slipped my hand around his waist, pulling him close.

Our faces collided as we both moved in at the same time. I felt his broad hand grip my ass and our kiss was long and wet and full of tongue wrestling. It was a hot make out session for not long enough. Holding each other close, our mutual hard- ons rubbed against each other through our pants.

Chris pulled away and looked down at his straining tent. "I knew I shouldn't have worn white pants tonight. These will need washing."

God, I wanted to touch this man. "We could..."

"It's, no, not just right.. look, good night. See you tomorrow."

He looked up and we both laughed. I walked to my car and Chris disappeared into the shadows of the trees for his short walk home.

*.*.*.*.*.*

As a part time worker, my hours were limited but I found ways to spend time downstairs with Chris. He turned me into his volunteer cataloging assistant when I was off the clock. The director couldn't figure why I was around so much. In a fit of embarrassed dodging and weaving, I told her I was thinking of going to library school after graduation. That immediately endeared me to her. She even told Chris to 'take good care of him' and 'don't scare him away.' We had a good chuckle over that later.

Somewhere between looking up subject headings and pondering appropriate Dewey numbers Chris proposed dinner at his place for this Wednesday. Day after tomorrow.

"You know where I live?'

"Yea, right in town above the hardware store."

"Oh following me? Spying on me?" he teased.

"I wish, but your windows are too high."

"Oh, a pervert and a voyeur. Nice combination." Chris was a far cry now from the shy reserved, albeit well-dressed librarian persona he normally projected.

Wednesday I worked to five and moved my car from behind the library, down the street in front of the hardware store. The line of shops on Main Street were built in the 1920s. Between each shop was a door. Inside, stairs led to a spacious apartment above.

Just as I was going to knock the door opened. "Hello there,. It was a warm greeting, "I saw you pull up."

We kissed lightly and headed up the stairs. Following him three steps behind afforded a nice view of how his ass moved with each step.

He turned into the apartment. The 'front door' emptied into a large front room that combined the living room with a dining room. Behind that was the kitchen with a space in the wall to pass thru food and drinks. Down the hall to the right was a bathroom and the only bedroom took up the whole building from one wall to the other. There was even a back door off the bedroom to a covered porch.

"So, did you enjoy the view?"

I looked at him with a blank stare.

"My ass silly. If you weren't watching my ass going up those stairs, this isn't going to work."

"Oh, yes. You have a very fine ass. Moves just right."

"That's better. Wine or a cocktail? Heavy preference for a COCKtail?"

Chris was now a totally different person. It must take all his self-control at work not to make everything in to a double entendre.

"Surprise me. I'll be daring tonight."

"Well, I should certainly hope so."

We chatted easily while he made martinis. Chris's shirt was light weight chiffon green, the sleeves rolled up revealing his hairy arms. The top three buttons were open. He had a well-defined line of chest hair straight down the front. I immediately followed that line and imagined where it led. His pants with the tight ass were typical of the disco era. Indigo polyester, with a light shimmer to the material.

"Wow, you make these strong." His martini packed a punch.

"Not if you make them right. The ones you get in clubs are weak. How many martinis have you had?"

"None. This is my first."

"Oooh. I took your virginity."

"Not hardly. Left that at a party a long time ago."

Chris laughed. "That story I want to hear."

"No. No you don't."

"Dinner has about ten minutes, come sit." He motioned to the couch in the living room.

We each tucked a leg under and slid in close. Our free hand easily went to the other's neck and rubbed each other's shoulders. Between sips, we kissed and talked.

The timer dinged in the kitchen. "Dinner's on!"

Lubricated with wine, dinner passed quickly. We both wanted to get food out of the way. You could taste the sexual tension in the room.

I went to take dishes to the kitchen when Chris stopped me.

"Later. The maid will get it." He handed me a lighter and pointed to three candles on an end table. He lit three more in front of a mirror on a side board, then flipped off the last of the lights.

We met in front of the sofa. He looked me in the eye and unbuttoned my shirt. I left my hands by my side although I wanted to rip his clothes off. His wide, soft hand massaged my breast and he leaned down to suck on my nipple. His other hand went to my crotch and gently rubbed my hard on.

I gasped at the working over he gave my nipple. God, it felt so good. My cock twitched and throbbed. He quickly undid my belt, but slowly pulled down my zipper. He looked straight at me and we locked our mouths into a wet, lusty kiss. My hands went to his open shirt and I felt for the first time his chest muscles below a light coating of jet black hair.

In seconds he had my pants and underwear on the floor. I fumbled with his belt.

"Fuck, sweetheart. Look how fucking sexy you are. Turn around."

I was naked from the waist down and my shirt was on but fully open. Chris pulled his own pants down leaving the skimpiest of bikini underwear. It barely held his massive erection. Lord, I wanted that cock of his in so many ways.

"Damn, what perfect body. Sweet ass, and a very inviting cock. Somehow I knew you would look like this." Chris dropped to his knees.

His eyes looked up at me while his fingers smoothed out my pubic hair. It was a divine feeling. His tongue touched the underside of my cock just below the crown. My cock twitched and my whole body shuddered.

I felt his lower lip press on my foreskin then his upper lip cover the rest of the crown. His tongue lightly flipped the opening.

I was under his spell. His tongue traced a line down the underside of my cock to my very tight balls. I felt his hand wrap around my aching cock and his mouth, oh Lord, his mouth took in one of my balls and he sucked on it.

I sank my fingers into his beautiful full head of black hair. His lips and tongue played with my cock. Fuck it felt good. I didn't care if I ever came as long as I could keep this feeling going.

His hands rubbed my ass. It was a soothing, gentle touch. I could feel his fingers get closer and closer to my rosebud. He spread my cheeks wider. As he did, he began to suck me into his mouth. He took me deeper. He sucked on me slow, then fast, then rough then teased soft kisses on my balls.

"Your pre cum taste heavenly. I can't wait to take a mouthful."

"I was just thinking the same thing. I've wanted to suck you ever since the first time we met."

Chris stood, pulled off his shirt and he pulled mine off too. We embraced fully naked for the first time. Out cocks rubbed against each other. I went to suck on his nipples.

"Oh dear, that feels so fucking good. You had a good teacher," Chris was grunting more than talking. "What else have you learned?"

I pushed him down on the sofa admiring his chest hair. And, as I fantasized, his line of black hair extended from his chest to his belly button and straight south to his now engorged penis. I let my hands explore his forest of pubic hair. It was light and smooth, like expensive fur. I buried my head between his legs.

My whole mouth engulfed him in one stroke. My greatest fantasy was coming true, I came up for air, "I thought there was something you could teach me. Right now, I'm just a good cock sucker and cum eater."

"And a wanna be voyeur, let's not forget."

"Oh I'm way beyond 'wanna be' on that. It's amazing what you can see in dorm rooms when they leave the curtains open. Usually on purpose." Kneeling between his legs we talked as I stroked his cock slowly smoothing out his pre cum.

"Really?"

"I think there are far more exhibitionist in the world than we realize. From my room I see girl on girl. Guy on guy. Two girls and a guy and any combination you can think of."

"And what gets your kink on?"

"All of it. I'm obsessed with all things erotic. Photos, art, drawings, dirty stories. I have an endless supply of illicit thoughts for masturbation sessions."

With that, Chris wrapped his fingers around mine and we stroked his cock together.

"Chris, you have a beautiful cock and your tight balls? Wow."

I slid into the sofa next to him and we both stroked our dicks kissing like fools. Our hands traded and we stroked each other. Cum oozing enough to make a nice lubricant.

"You've done this?" he asked.

"No, you got me on a first, jerking each other off."

Another man's hands on my cock felt to exciting. We sucking on nipples, pawed at each other's ass and played with our chest hair.

"Come on." Chris led us to the bedroom. There were candles here too. "Lie down."

He knelt next to me and began a sensual exploration of my skin starting with my toes. He lightly played with my feet then stroked my leg hair. Little by little moving closer to the junction of my legs.

"You're liking this aren't you."

"Yes, I want to touch you, but right now everything you are doing is electric. I love the attention," I moaned back.

His fingers played with my pubic hair. He smoothed them out reveling the base of my extended cock, now glistening with oozing cum.

"We are a hairy couple aren't we," he laughed just before beginning a world class blow job. His lips clamped down on my crown and sucked very hard. A mix of erotic pain and pleasure. God, I wanted to cum so bad.

"I want you," he breathed and went back to sucking me and playing with my balls. He stroked me so close to cuming. I felt him take one ball then the other in his mouth.

"I'm close," I told him.

I could feel him nod his head. He picked up the rhythm, and sucked me deep into his mouth. The tip of my cock was now hyper sensitive and I could feel the back of his throat.

I reached in vain to grab his dick, my back arched and I exploded into his mouth. I held his head in place and came a second time. He groaned and slurped and gulped swallowing my load. He looked up at me with a half open mouth flowing with white cum. Stroking my still hard cock he moved to me, opened his mouth and let my cum pour all over my chest in a white sticky coating. It was so fucking erotic. Then we kissed. He forced the last of the cum into my mouth. Another first. My hands were all over his body. I wanted to fuck him. I wanted him to fuck my ass. I was delirious with lust.

Playfully, Chris held me down by my shoulders and began licking all the cum off my chest with particular attention to my nipples. I peered down at his pinched lips as he strained the cum out of my chest hair.

My body was on fire. My erection barely faded. The adrenalin and endorphins flooded my blood stream. I wanted more. More stimulation. More sex. Any kind of sex.

"Roll over," Chris whispered in my ear. This was a very sensual and sexy man. My mind reeled at the idea, this man, this skilled lover, would want me.

He straddled my back. I could feel his strong legs against my outer thighs. His wet and very hard cock rubbed against my ass cheeks. Then her treated me to a back rub. His long fingers, kneaded my shoulder muscles working down my sides and back up to my neck.

"I'm going to make love to your ass in a minute. I want you to be very relaxed and able to enjoy every moment."

Chris reached over to a small wide mouth jar and scooped out a glob of lubricant. It was cool but melted quickly in the heat of my hole. His fingers, one then two, then three, penetrated me spreading the cream.

I couldn't help but moan, "Geez that's amazing. You're gonna make me cum just doing that."

"We can do that some time. Finger fuck each other to climax. You'll like that." Chris continued applying the lubricant.

"I do. Ever do it to yourself?"

"Frequently." He paused attending to my ass hole to spread lube on his cock.

I felt the weight of his body as he lay on my back. His slippery cock met my lubed ass. He whispered in my ear, "This way or face to face?"

"Face. I want to see you. I want to watch."

He relinquished his weight and helped me roll over. "Ohooo, you devil, you are a voyeur."

The candle light was perfect. His body glistened lightly from perspiration and cum. I pulled my ankles up to meet my ass and he gently pushed my legs farther apart.

We stared into each other's eyes while he slid his cock up and down my crack, passing over my rosebud several times as if to tease.

"Relax." And the first hint of his tip pressed into my love hole, he pushed my balls to one side then held on to my hips. A little farther in and I winced. It was always this way. A little more pain this time since Chris was wider than my previous men.

"You look very sexy," he said looking down at me. The crown passed the sphincter.

I groaned as the first two inches entered. He paused but never backed up. Then the discomfort was gone. Every muscle in my ass cooperated. I wanted this. I wanted him. I wanted to feel his magnificent cock pump in and out of my ass while I watched.

"Oh fuck baby, you are sooo tight."

My knees moved together gripping his hips. He slid back and forth on my thighs as he began to pump his cock into me. I did not want this feeling to end. After about the sixed stroke, he shifted my ass up and the next stroke went an inch deeper. I gasped for air.

"You have a very sweet ass. You know how many times I've stroked my cock thinking about fucking you?"

I couldn't get a word out.

He looked down at me. His eyes changed. Was he thinking of more ways to pleasure himself with my body?

"Your arms. Your chest." He spoke between thrusts. "You're so smooth. Sexy young man with just a little hair." Chris leaned in and began licking one of my nipples. My hard cock pressed in to his tight stomach.

"Fuck, you have a fine ass. So fucking tight. Please tell me this is your first."

I couldn't tell him that. But, so far, this was the best. He leaned back. Holding my knees he straightened up and tilted his head back.

My hand found my cock and stroked it very hard. Cum was pouring out of the tip.

He went on and on. Perspiration was running down his chest and off his face. I felt so fucking sexy. The feeling of his cock deep inside me was what? Exciting? Erotic? There is no word.

"I'm going to fill you up, right now." He paused, fully in me. I could feel his cock throb as he came deep inside. "Ahaaaaa."

One last stream of cum erupted from my own cock making a line on my stomach.

He held himself in me for long moments. Our eyes searched each other's face. A slight shift of his weight and slowly he extracted himself from me. Even that was erotic as fuck.

We stopped moving. I was spent.

*.*.*.*.*.*

We lay in the damp sheets a tangle of legs, arms, ass, cocks and balls. Fingers idly traced lines on each other's body.

"Hey," Chris said softly, "I gather you have had women?"

"Yes."

"Which do you like better?"

My mind shifted gears. I really never thought about that. "Well, it's different between men and women. You must know that."

"No. I don't."

"Really? I guess it's like the difference between slow sensual sex and a hard fuck with either sex."

"You have to like one better though?"

"Right now, with you, this is the best sex ever. Don't get mad but I have enjoyed both with guys and... you know." My voice trailed off. The look on Chris's face changed.

"Oh, no. A variety of experience is probably a good thing. Just don't tell too many people that."

I shifted and stopped playing with his chest hair. "Oh? Why?"

"You'll learn that some people see things as black and white. One or the other. No compromise or in between."

"Well, that's cryptic as hell," I said.

"One day that may change. People, even in the community, may be more open to variations. Just not yet." Chris' voice changed.

After a beat he continued, "So, change of subject, my sweetheart, who did you fuck in Europe?"

"I don't know? Who did you fuck lately?"

"Lately? Ohooo. I found a lovely young man at a club in the city two weeks ago. About twenty. Silky smooth like you. A dedicated bottom. I stayed in the city that weekend. He must have taken six loads in his mouth. Real cum eating cock sucking expert.

It was a crude response that did not fit the Chris I had come to know.

"Sounds like a marathon time. You going to see him again?"

"Heavens no. Some fucks are just that. Fun for the evening. I guess you haven't reached that stage."

"I guess not. I mean, it would be nice to have a regular. I guess I do. In a way." I was running out of words.

"Oh? Come on child, who, where?"

"It took a while, but there are three of us who hang around a lot. Once we stopped dancing around the issue, it became really fun. There's no romance to any of it. Were just really happy to get satisfied. Ya know? Like, enjoy our bodies, good sex, just for the sake of it."

"So no casual hook ups? One nighters?"

"I don't know where you went to college, but there's nowhere to find that. I like what I found. Feels safer from what the other guys say,"

"You like to dance. You still dance?"

"Oh, yea. But money is always a problem. Although we have a couple guys with off campus houses. Everyone who comes is either out of the closet or wants to be. The parties are great. Everyone, even the straights, are so accepting. It's an easy feeling. You can have fun teasing, flirting and being yourself. We love it."

"And Europe? You evaded the question dear."

"Three nights and days with a photographer in Paris. He was working on a PhD in 18th Century Erotic French Literature, if you can believe that. If we weren't fucking or clubbing, it was one long hard-on listening to what his research found. God, talk about horny."

"You and he?"

"That, and the French back then. I think debauchery was invented by them."

"Oh, I think the Romans had them beat in that department."

Our talking trailed off.

*.*.*.*.*.*

He moved closer to me and buried into my face with one wet kiss after another. He teased me. Nibbled one nipple then the other. He smoothed out all the cum on my stomach and stroked my fading cock. It began to come back to life.

"Oh, I like you younger guys. You recharge so fast. You're ready again aren't you."

I smiled. "I'll can be ready for you any time."

"Come on lover."

He took me by the hand and into the bathroom.

We couldn't keep our hands off each other. Slick with sweat, and cum we traded that for soap and hot water. His shower was huge. Clear glass doors. A seat at one end and a line of shampoos and skin products lined a shelf on the other.

I turned around and leaned on the ceramic tile. Chris washed my back, by butt cheeks and my ass. A soapy finger penetrated me like a tease. I returned the favor. Face to face again our hot wet bodies slid around as we kissed and fondled each other.

I wanted his cock. This time he was going to cum in my mouth. I wasn't leaving until I tasted the cum of this beautiful sweet lover. Hot water streamed over his body and I moved to my knees. I kissed my way down from his shoulders, chest, naval to the prize.

His cock was beautiful. Bigger than a fistful, my grip fit around so my finger tips barely touched. I stroked it once or twice then enveloped his cock. It was my turn to taste cum again. It was a pleasure to suck his cock. In my case, it is a pleasure to suck most any cock. But this one? Chris's cock was rock hard again. The skin strained. The purple vein down the top stuck out. Deeper and deeper I took him in. I wanted to deep throat him and have his cum hit the back of my throat.

I held his ass tight and he did not disappoint. He held my head very hard and began fucking me. He was face fucking me and I choked on him.

"Arggh, fuck, you cocksucker. Fuck you do that good. Suck me every night."

He came hard. His cum had a wonderful taste. I would not let any go to waste tonight. Swallowing the cum was like what? His cum had the consistency of smooth Ranch dressing. I gulped him down.

*.*.*.*.*.*

It took us a while to get put back together. I needed to get home. It was pushing midnight.

"You can't stay the night?" Chris asked.

"No. Living at home for summer break. Rules, you know?"

Chris saw me to the door. He was wearing a black silk dressing robe with an embroidered dragon on one side.

We kissed good night. Our lips spoke to each other and our hands gripped each other's ass just right.

The rest of the summer was ahead of us.

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