RawDog33
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Feb 8, 2018
- Posts
- 1,791
Growing up, Tommy had always known that he was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps, get a degree in law, and join his father’s firm. It was all planned out. Tommy didn’t really even have a choice in where he was going to college; obviously, he’d be attending his father’s alma mater, he’d join his father’s fraternity, all that.
It didn’t take long at college for Tommy to realize that wasn’t the path for him at all. The guys in the frat were assholes and Tommy didn’t want anything to do with them.
Being so far from home for the first time, he relished the newfound freedom. He found the musicians and artists, the drum circles and bonfires, tie dye and, of course, marijuana.
He let his dark brown hair grow out. He started learning to play the guitar. He took an art class. He was a quick learner, too, and put in the time to practice his new skills. When he wasn’t getting baked, of course. Although he had discovered that sometimes getting stoned actually quite helped the artistic process. It allowed him to get out of his head and into the moment, and let his creativity flow more naturally.
At least, that’s what Stella told him. Stella wasn’t his girlfriend; she was too much of a free spirit to indulge in such labels. But she had been his companion to a number of concerts, and had introduced him to the wonders of psychedelic mushrooms, ecstasy, cocaine, and LSD… and nevermind the sex! Tommy had had quite the eye-opening semester away at college.
Coming home for the holidays was going to be a struggle, that was for sure. At least he’d get to see his sister again. He’d missed her. They talked regularly, of course, and texted as well, but being away from his twin for the first time in their lives hadn’t been easy. He hadn’t told her about his illicit recent adventures; she would never approve! She had always been a good girl, after all. Of course, he’d always been a good boy, as well. And it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, he just didn’t know how she would take it. He’d shown her his art, and his guitar, and told her that he wasn’t quite following the path their father had laid out for him.
Their respective flights home were scheduled to land within a half-hour of each other, and Tommy was waiting for his sister at her gate when she got off the plane, eager to see her once more, for the first time in almost four months.
It didn’t take long at college for Tommy to realize that wasn’t the path for him at all. The guys in the frat were assholes and Tommy didn’t want anything to do with them.
Being so far from home for the first time, he relished the newfound freedom. He found the musicians and artists, the drum circles and bonfires, tie dye and, of course, marijuana.
He let his dark brown hair grow out. He started learning to play the guitar. He took an art class. He was a quick learner, too, and put in the time to practice his new skills. When he wasn’t getting baked, of course. Although he had discovered that sometimes getting stoned actually quite helped the artistic process. It allowed him to get out of his head and into the moment, and let his creativity flow more naturally.
At least, that’s what Stella told him. Stella wasn’t his girlfriend; she was too much of a free spirit to indulge in such labels. But she had been his companion to a number of concerts, and had introduced him to the wonders of psychedelic mushrooms, ecstasy, cocaine, and LSD… and nevermind the sex! Tommy had had quite the eye-opening semester away at college.
Coming home for the holidays was going to be a struggle, that was for sure. At least he’d get to see his sister again. He’d missed her. They talked regularly, of course, and texted as well, but being away from his twin for the first time in their lives hadn’t been easy. He hadn’t told her about his illicit recent adventures; she would never approve! She had always been a good girl, after all. Of course, he’d always been a good boy, as well. And it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, he just didn’t know how she would take it. He’d shown her his art, and his guitar, and told her that he wasn’t quite following the path their father had laid out for him.
Their respective flights home were scheduled to land within a half-hour of each other, and Tommy was waiting for his sister at her gate when she got off the plane, eager to see her once more, for the first time in almost four months.