Freshman Seminar (M/M)

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Subject: Freshman Seminar (M/M)
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X-Original-Message-ID: .net The Freshman Seminar It was 8pm and the seminar was finally over. Except for a couple of
kids who would not shut up, getting the other twelve to discuss the
Civil War was like pulling teeth. The fact is that they didn't know
very much about the subject, and so they really had little to
contribute. I had been against the freshman seminar program from the
first time that it had been proposed in the departmen, but I went along,
even having the students meet at my house, which was adjacent to the
campus. My living room was strewn with pop cans and bowls which held the residue
of potato chips and pretzels. I thought that they had all gone, and
poured myself a vodka on the rocks, when I heard the toilet flush.
Presently Eric entered the living room from the hallway, looking a bit
sheepish, when he noticed that everyone else had left. "I'm sorry Professor Brooke. I just had to go," the pretty boy
stammered. He was indeed pretty. His blond face had never felt a razor. His lips
were pouty; his features symetrical and delicate. There was a slight
rosiness to his cheeks. The slender eighteen year old was a couple of
inches shorter than my six feet. His flaxen hair was cropped short, the
way guys wore it back in the fifties. Throughout the evening Eric had
not said a word, although I had encouraged him. "No problem, Eric," I responded, "Nature is insistent." "I'm sorry that I had nothing to say tonight. I really don't know much
about the subject." The lovely boy stood perhaps two inches closer to me than most Americans
find comfortable. "Well, then, you might have asked questions," I responded in an off-hand
manner, extremely conscious of the boy's proximity. "I'll be better prepared next time," Eric promised, as he moved slowly
towards the door, looking into my face with the most dazzling smile,
which revealed an orthodontist's dream. The door closed behind him and I was then alone. My first thought was
to tidy up the living room, but instead I sat in my leather chair and
sipped on the vodka. Since the beginning of the semester, since I first
saw Eric in my class, I had been a troubled man. Throughout my forty
years I had been a straight arrow about sex, and I had even disparaged
gays. I had never had a homosexual urge, until I looked upon that boy,
who, on the first day of school, sat in the front row clad in shorts and
a t shirt, which revealed hairless, shapely limbs as alluring and
sexually exciting as a young girl's. And that face! That incredible
face, which appeared so innocent, yet suggested sensousness. I had
begun to image his pretty visage, when I masturbated, yet I knew that I
would do nothing with him, because it was not right, because I was not
gay. Still the lovely boy troubled me exceedingly. My drink was almost gone, and I was contemplating pouring another, when
the door bell chimed. .As I walked across the room to answer the call, I
noticed a book bag on the floor leaning against the couch. I then
suspected the reason for this interruption. I opened the door and saw
Eric standing there, a bit damp, because it had just begun to rain. A
bright flash of lightening, followed immediately by a loud crack of
thunder, startled the two of us and I urged the boy inside. "I'm sorry Professor Brooke," he said as we stood inside the door, a
torrent of rain blowing across the lawn. " I forgot my books.". I closed the door and said, "It seems that you're stuck here until the
storm abates." "If you don't mind," he responded, looking at me shyly. Had I not known, I could not have reckoned his age. The androgynous boy
could have been twelve or twenty, although he would have been large for
twelve. "Perhaps I could help you tidy up," he offered, immediately picking up
pop cans. I joined him, and within ten minutes everything was put
right. He then sat on the couch and I got into my leather chair. I
tried not to stare at him, although he looked at me. An awkward silence
ensued. "I'm going to pour myself a drink," I suddenly said, getting up. "Can I
get you a Coke?" "I'd like to try what you're having," he responded. "You're not old enough." "I won't tell anyone," Eric replied softly, looking intently at me with
a boldness that unnerved me. I then fixed two vodkas on the rocks, large ones, and I brought Eric's
drink to him, wondering why I was doing this. The pretty boy took the
glass from me and gave me a lovely smile. I sat down on the couch, not
too close to him, but still on the courch. "I've never had vodka before," the boy said, looking into my face, not
two feet away, "but I once had a drink of whiskey." "Vodka can become a bad habit," I opined and sipped on my drink. "Do you think that bad habits can make the world more interesting?" he
responded, looking straight into my face and then taking a gulp. "I suppose one could make an argument for that," I murmurred, lowering
my head to escape his gaze, staring at my glass. I didn't know anything about this boy. I suspected that he was very
intelligent, and I felt that he was somehow seductive. He was not a
complete stranger to me, but he was not much more than that. "Where do you come from?" I asked, needing to make conversation. "A small town twenty miles from Des Moines," he replied. "There's not
too much to the place; a couple of churches and a row of stores on Main
street. I had to take a school bus to high school. I've never had a
girl friend." I was startled by his last comment. I looked into his face, but I saw
no embarrassment. I could imagine that a boy that pretty, that gentle,
might not find a girl. "But I had a close buddy, " he added quietly. " We did everything
together. Well, almost everything." I saw Eric press his lips closely together and a blush came over his
face. He stared down at his hands which clasped his glass. "I think I'm gay," he almost whispered and then he began a soft sobbing. "Why are you telling me this?" I demanded, perhaps a bit too harshly. "I'm sorry, Professor Brooke, but I don't have anyone to talk to, and I
thought that you liked me. I like you." With that the boy began crying in ernest, a convulsive whimpering. He
leaned toward me and I found myself holding him in an awkward embrace.
He cried in my grasp and I marveled at the shampoo scent of his golden
hair, at the creamy smoothness of the back of his neck. I was carried
away by the situation; by his distraught feelings and by my powerful
attraction to him. I put my lips to his soft flesh and kissed his
neck. I licked him there, my nose nuzzling his fragrant hair. Eric
moved closer to me so that I held him in a more comfortable embrace, his
head against my chest, my mouth on the back of his neck. He soon
quieted and we remained like that for some minutes, saying nothing. Eric then raised his head and leaned it against my shoulder. My arm was
around him. He looked at me, tears still dampening his cheeks. He
looked at me, his beautiful face expectant, his lips slightly apart.
His pale blue eyes invited me, and so I kissed his lips, gently at
first, to which he responded inexpertly, without a pucker. He was eager
for it, kissing, and I quickly taught him how to do it properly. We
became passionate and soon we were trading spit. I had had a number of
girls and women in the past, but I had never before experienced such
excitment as I did kissing Eric. Then Eric spilled his drink; on my knees, on the couch, on the rug. He
jumped up quickly and was clearly abashed. "I'm sorry," he cried. "It was so clumsy of me." He was standing in front of me. His youthful hands had long fingers. I
took hold of one and with a light tug invited him to sit with me again.
He did so, and he snuggled to me. I felt very nervous as I grasped the boy in my arms. He had a mature
male body, and it disturbed me that I enjoyed holding him, smelling
him.. "I've never done anything like this before, Eric," I whispered into his
ear. "I haven't either, Profes...." "Call me Tom," I interrupted. "Tom." "Perhaps we shouldn't be doing this, Eric," I said softly, nuzzling my
face against his beardless cheek. "I won't tell anyone, Tom," the boy replied. "Besides I'm curious." He then held his head apart from mine and gave me a mischievous grin.
He was no longer a distraught boy. His pretty face was animated at the
prospect of doing naughty things. "Teach me about things. . . you know," he asked with a radiant smile. There it was. An open invitation to do the unthinkable with this
beautiful boy. For a second I hesitated, but only for a second. "Can you stay the night?" I inquired, already knowing the answer. "Yes!" he exclaimed, and the lovely boy snuggled to my embrace. * * * At forty I was a good looking guy, who appeared to be much younger. I
was trim and blond without too much body hair. When I was a boy, I was
almost as pretty as Eric. I state these facts only to explain,
partially, why Eric would be willing to go to bed with me. But there
was something more. Eric had accepted me as his leader, as a teacher
whom he trusted to introduce him to sex. He had noticed my glances at
him during the semester. He knew that I was attracted to him. It all
fit together, and in the end it was Eric who was the seducer. We had been kissing again for some time. Aside from that I had not done
anything more than insert my hand beneath the top of his shirt and
caress the flesh of his shoulder and upper chest. I had no idea what we
would do together, to each other, although I was enflamed with lust by
his prettiness "It's awkward," I almost giggled. "I don't know how to begin." "Let's take a shower together," Eric suggested. I should have thought of that! With a grin I rose and pulled Eric up
with me, and hand in hand we walked to the bathroom, which had a shower
in the tub. Once inside the room, however, we stood perplexed, unsure
of how to begin disrobing. We were nervous, although in good spirits,
and certainly eager for whatever it was we were about to do. "Why don't I start the shower and get in," I suggested. "You can
undress outside and then come and join me, if you wish." "I'm not turning back now," he replied with a lovely grin, as he left
the bathroom. I turned on the shower and then undressed. My cock was fully engorged,
jutting out over six inches. It embarrassed me, because I was so
obviously aroused. What would Eric think? What were we going to do
with each other, I wondered. How far were we willing to go? I got into
the tub and adjusted the water to a pleasant warmth. I soon heard the
door open and saw the shadow of Eric beyond the shower curtain. He
pulled aside the corner of the curtain and poked his head in. I
half-heartedly tried to conceal my erection with my hands as the boy
gazed at me, at it. He then climbed in. He was stunningly beautiful,
perfect in all respects. His chest was smooth and his thighs sleek. He
too was hard and he did not try to hide it. His cock was about the same
length as mine, although it was a bit more slender. Except for a
modest, blond pubic bush his body was hairless. His flesh was so
inviting. I pulled him to me and we kissed, our bodies, our cocks
pressed together. I ran my hands down his back and fondled his soft,
perky buttocks. The warm water pelted my back as we embraced. "Eric," I whispered. "Yes?" "I want to suck you." "Really?" "Didn't you expect that?" "I don't actually know what to expect." I looked into his face, and I could discern serious nervousness. He had
obviously not thought through the situation, the possibilities. "May I suck you?" He assented with a nod. I lowered myself to my knees before him. His cock pointed at my face.
I explored his lovely calves and thighs with my hands, fondling them as
I had wanted to do all semester. Then his cock. I took it lightly into
my hand and pumped it once, squeezing a bubble of clear liquid from his
slit. I licked it off, savored it and wanted more. I took the head of
his cock into my mouth and was delighted by the smooth texture of it. I
then began to suck him in ernest. I could only engulf half of it
without gagging, but that was enough for me and , apparantly, for Eric,
who began to squirm "Tommy!" he cried. "Do you want me to take it out before I come?" I nodded negatively, my mouth still filled with his cock. "Here it comes," he squeeled, and I closed my throat and sucked a little
harder. It is truly amazing how much an eighteen year old boy can
spew. He kept coming and coming, filling my mouth with his semen until
it began to drool out and run down my chin. I then disengaged, because
I knew that his glans had become very sensitive. I pumped him with my
hand until he was finished, wondering all the while what I was to do
with all that spunk in my mouth. It was a quick decision. I spit out
half of it and swallowed the other half. I really did not enjoy the
taste of it, although that fact would not deter me from sucking Eric
again, as often as we could, whenever we could. I was enflamed with
lust at that moment. I needed relief. I stood and pulled Eric to me.
I could tell by his limpness and his weak response to my embrace that he
was sated and was not interested in sex for the moment. He would not be
willing to go down on me; maybe some other time, but not then. I
grabbed my engorged cock and pumped it as I held the pretty boy to me.
I pumped it and rubbed it against the soft flesh of his abdomen, holding
him tightly to me all the while. When I felt myself pass the no return
point, I took my hand off of my cock and squeezed my body against his,
my cock pressed to his flesh as I kissed him deeply. It was the most
magnificent orgasm which I had ever experienced. I spewed onto him as
we held each other in a fierce grip. I made noises, and I then
finished myself by hand. "Wow!" Eric exclaimed after we had calmed down. His face was aglow and open in astonishment at what we had just done.
He was so beautiful. Although I was then sexually sated, I still
wanted him and I drew him to me into an embrace. I resisted the thought
that I loved him, a male, however pretty. It troubled me that I had
relished sucking his cock and that I had let him come in my mouth. I
wasn't gay, I insisted to myself, but this boy turned me on. * * *
We went to bed, naked, and we fell quickly asleep, the vodka having
acted as an effective soporific. In the middle of the night I awoke and
got up to piss. When I returned from the bathroom, I stood next to the
bed and gazed at the sleeping Eric, who snored lightly as he lay
crouched on his left side. He was a grown boy. His thighs were ample,
muscled, as were his upper arms. Yet, his face appeared to be so young
and innocent. I lay on the bed and snuggled my body to his, my cock,
again hard, poking at his butt. I thought about the possibilities of
having anal sex with the young man, and I shuddered at the monstrousness
of that idea. Still, the thought would not leave me. I put my arm
around the boy and squeezed to him, my rigid cock pushing at his ass.
Eric then awoke. "Do you want to do that? he asked uncertainly, still groggy from sleep. "Do what? I responded. "You know . . . " and he pushed his butt at my cock. "I don't want to hurt you." "I know it'll hurt, but I want you to take me, to do me. I don't care
about the pain. You can even be violent, if you like." I could never be violent with that lovely boy, but his words enflamed
me. "Why don't you do me first?" I suggested, and I was immediately aghast
at what I had spoken. "Well, the problem is that if I do you, I won't feel like having you do
me afterwards. I'm horny now, so do me. Later, when you are horny
again, I'll do you." The boy was wise beyond his years. I could not imagine being fucked in
the ass without being sexually aroused. "Are you sure about this?" I asked, licking on his shoulder. "Yah! and don't be too gentle." I got up and went into the bathroom, where I fetched a jar of Vaseline.
When I returned to the bed, I saw Eric lying sprawled on his stomach.
Moonlight illuminated his perky, creamy smooth buttocks. I stood above
him as I slickened my cock with the grease, looking at him, desiring
him. I then got onto the bed, atop the boy. My thighs pressed against
his. The head of my cock poked his crack. I leaned down my head and
licked on the back of his neck. "Do it! Do it!" the boy exclaimed in a husky voice. I took hold of my cock and found his opening. I gave him a exploratory
poke and then I just jammed in until my abdomen pressed against his soft
flesh. Eric cried out in pain as I did this, but he lay still, and he
did not try to get free from me. I fucked the boy furiously, violently,
biting at his neck as my cock pistoned in and out of him in long
strokes. I had fucked before, but never like this. Eric was crying,
but I paid no heed to his distress. I fucked him faster and faster
until I cried aloud in orgasm, spewing and spewing into the unfortunate
boy. I had emptied myself like never before. I was totally sated. Eric
still lay face down. I saw that my cum oozed out of his asshole. "Tommy, I didn't like it, he said, tears on his cheeks. "It really
hurt." "Now you know what it's like. You don't have to do it again." "Yah. I don't want to do that ever again." We cuddled together and, in time, we fell asleep, Eric first. I
remained awake for awhile thinking about what we had done toegether. It
had been marvelous, but I didn't want to hurt him again. As I drifted
off to sleep I decided that I wanted Eric to fuck me, to hurt me, like I
had hurt him. I wanted to feel him inside me, regardless of the pain. It was dawn, almost seven o'clock. I was suddenly awake, and so was
Eric, who was playing with my flacid cock. "I want to suck you," he said., looking into my face seriously "I have your shit on my cock," I responded. "Let's shower. I want to suck you." We went into the shower and Eric washed me lovingly. He soon went to
his knees and took my cock into his mouth. He was not very good at
sucking, but his persistence paid off. I spewed into his mouth, a
gusher of semen, and the boy pulled back choking. He then vomited
convulsively onto the floor of the tub, making a horrible mess, which,
however, was washed away by the shower. I pulled him up to me and we
embraced. "I'm sorry, kid," I said "It's not your fault," he responded. "I just had to know about that,
about the stuff. I didn't like it at all, and I think that I'm not
queer." "Well, good for you. Now you can think about fucking pretty girls." Eric looked me into the face and said, "I havn't fucked you yet." Indeed he hadn't, and I was not at all in the mood for it. I watched as Eric slowly slicked his cock with the Vaseline. I did not
want to do it! I tried to get up from the bed, but he pushed me down.
He was a powerful young man. He threw himself upon me and pushed his
cock into my ass. He raped me. The pain was horrible at first, then it
felt somewhat better. He plunged in and out of me in stinging strokes,
and I pleaded for him to come soon. Then he cried out and pressed
himself to me, gasping out his spurts. Afterwards we were somewhat ambivilant about our relationship. I still
loved the boy's sleek body, but I feared his cock. He got up from the
bed and dressed. I wanted to feel his cock in my mouth again, but I
knew that he was done. "I'm not gay, Tommy," he said, as he straightened his clothes, "but I
think that you are." "Eric," I responded, "you can fuck me any time you want, or I'll suck
you." I was desperate. I could not lose the beautiful boy. "Perhaps, yah, I guess I would like that, but you have to teach me about
girls." "Sure, I'll do that. Can you come with me to Mexico on Thanksgiving
break? I know a very up-class place with really young girls." "I'd like that," he said, buttoning the last of his buttons. * * *
The next day Eric dropped out of school and I never heard from him
again.
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