"Similar Equipment"

[Tony2015]

"Similar Equipment"

(closed)

(FYI: I will be adding my character pic
as soon as my writing partner chooses it.
It will soon be available as a link
in the place of Mark's name just below.)​

Mark Taylor:

I wait for the joggers and then the mother pushing a stroller to pass before I ask my friend softly, "What exactly does that mean?"

"What does what mean?" Roger asks, his tone seemingly sincere. He looks to me, catching the questioning and, likely, somewhat disbelieving expression on my face. "Similar equipment...? What do you think it means?"

I stare at him for a moment, then -- again looking about for eavesdroppers, intentional or accidental -- say in almost a whisper, "Well ... I guess ... I guess I would think that it means..."

When I don't finish what I'm saying, he bluntly clarifies, "I got my cock sucked by a guy ... another man ... with similar equipment ... otherwise known as cock and balls."

By the time he finishes the last word, my eyes and mouth both are wide open. Roger is, has been, and likely always will be the most sexually adventurous person I ever met. Every Monday morning before we go into the office, Roger and I meet here on a park bench over looking the pond so that he can catch me up on his weekend's sexual adventures. He's done just about anything and everything that can be done with a woman ... or more than one woman ... or even one or more women and one or more men.

But never before has one of those Monday morning discussions not involved a female. I once again check to see that we are alone, and ask quietly, "Was there a woman involved at some point?"

He shakes his head, then looks to me and smiles proudly. "First time for everything, my friend ... even for me."

I look back to the pond across the jogging trail before us, then after a moment laugh surprisingly. "I never imagined it."

"Never imagined that I would have a sexual encounter with a dude...?" he asks, adding quickly, "Or ... never imagined having a sexual encounter with a dude your self?"

I look to him quickly, again shocked, then laugh. "The first."

When I look back out to the water and lift my paper coffee cup to my lips, I contemplate Roger's question for a long moment. I'm straight, I tell myself. No! Not straight. I always hated that word as a synonym for being heterosexual. It implies that being gay is some how crooked ... mentally, psychologically, or spiritually bent.

I may have thought that way when I was a younger man and ignorant of the variety of people who make up our diverse society. But with age comes the realization that every person is unique and -- so long as they aren't harming someone else with the way they are -- they should be allowed to be exactly who they are.

Besides, what happens behind the bedroom door isn't the business of anyone beyond that bedroom door.

"Well...?"

I look to Roger again, suddenly realizing he asked me a question. "What?"

"Do you know who I'm talking about?"

I stare for a moment, then shrug. "What...?"

"The guy who blew me," he says coarsely. "Do you remember him...?"

I laugh, shocked. "How would I remember him?"

"I just told you who--" Roger stops midsentence, realizing that I hadn't been listening to him. He repeats, "Remember the young guy from the gym who helped Old Man Murphy that day, when the old fart had his heart attack?"

"Yeah ... and...?" I ask expectantly. When Roger raises an eye brow and a smirk fills his face, my eyes widen. "That's the guy who--" I yet again look for adjacent ears and finish softer, "That's who blew you? He's a fucking kid."

"No, he's not," Roger contradicts, with an expression that tells me he's about to get inappropriately explicit. "He's older than he looks, totally legal ... and he knows what he's doing with other men's cocks."

As he does almost every Monday morning, Roger begins telling me about his past weekend's sexual encounter. I listen intently, as I always do, but with an expression that is more shocked than simply entertained. I knew that Roger had had threesomes and group sex encounters that had involved other males, but never had he partaken of a male alone, so I find his detailed recounting of the tryst exciting and shocking both.

It might sound odd that I would want to listen to such tales from another man, particularly on a Monday morning just before I begin my work week. But Roger and I have known each other since we were tweens. He's my closest friend, and as such, he's the only person in the world from whom I would both believe such erotic tales and wish to hear them.

He lifts his arm and checks his watch, saying, "We need to get inside."

As we stand, I realize -- as is sometimes the case -- that my cock is semi-hardened by the just ended tale. And, as is sometimes the case, my friend of many years glances down at my crotch, eager to know whether his tale has been effective in bringing Little Marcus to life. He laughs at the slight bulge in my groin, and as usual I tell him to fuck off as I inconspicuously adjust myself for the walk ahead.

"Man, you really gotta get laid," he says as we head toward the Corporate Headquarters. "Something new, something fresh ... something sweaty and loud."

I just laugh again at the outrageous thought. Roger is fully aware that my sex life is wanting. My beautiful, sexy wife of 15 years is a lot of things, but sexually adventurous is not one of them. We typically make love about twice a month, as well as on special occasions like Valentine's Day, Christmas, and birthdays. And while it's always satisfying for me, it's usually very vanilla ... and very quick.

As the elevator opens on the 12th floor, Roger steps out to head for his office, then reaches back to hold the door open as he looks at me, the only person left in the box. "You should chat up my new friend from the club. I think he would do for you what he did for me."

Again, I laugh, this time almost hysterically. I say with a sarcastic voice, "Yeah! I'll get right on that."

As the elevator door closes and I head up to my 22nd floor office, my mind goes back to that about which I'd been thinking in the park: my sexual orientation. I'm straight, I repeat in my mind, again grimacing at my ingrained habit of using that word. My thoughts continue, I'm not bisexual ... I'm not even, what do they call it...? Bi-curious.

As the doors open and I head for my corner office, I contemplate that word, bi-curious. I drop into my chair as my Personal Assistant quickly covers the important items with which I need to deal today. My PA is a man, and while I've never done it ever, as he departs my office, I look to him ... and check out his ass. I chuckle after he's gone, reassuring myself, I'm not bi-curious! I have no desire to have sex with a man!

I spin my chair and look out upon the skyscrapers before me. I recount Roger's tale ... the intimate details ... the erotic details. Roger had told me that he probably wouldn't do something like that again in the future -- "I love pussy too much", he'd said near the end -- but he'd also told me he was very happy he'd had the encounter.

I wonder, Could I...? Could I have sex with another man? Kissing, touching, groping, sucking ... fucking a person with similar equipment to that which I pack? I have to admit, I've had fantasies of being with a man before. Hell, I've masturbated to the picture of a man on his hands and knees before me, my cock up his ass. Once, I'd even toyed with inserting a phallic like object into my ass, wondering what it felt like. It had been interesting, but -- other than cause my cock to harden -- it hadn't done anything for me.

Probably did it wrong, I had told myself then and repeated in my mind now. Maybe the guy getting fucked isn't supposed to get off ... just the guy fucking. I knew that wasn't true, though, that there was no pleasure to be gained by having a cock in your back door. My first lover, a woman obviously, had been nuts for anal sex, cumming hard and consistently while I pounded her anus. So ... unless it's just a female thing, I know there's pleasure to be gained there.

"Boss...?"

I spin suddenly, aware that my PA has been speaking to me. "I'm sorry...?"

He jumps into some more messages and meeting explanations, after which I hop into my duties for the day...



I don't normally go to the gym on Mondays, but...

All day long, I have been totally unable to get out of my mind the thought of having sex with that young man from the gym. Not just any other man, but ... that man. As the day proceeded, I came to realize that the true reason I had never pursued a male-male encounter was because I didn't know how to go about finding the right male. I'm not at all the type to go to a gay bar and pick up on a man. I'm not even the type to go online and find a male lover there either.

But now ... now ... I know precisely where an attractive gay male can be located, one who -- if Roger is right, and he always is -- would likely be willing and eager to engage in sexual acts with me. It's perfect, I tell myself. He's right there ... you know who he is ... Roger says he's discreet ... nice ... fun.

I am sitting in my car, staring at the entrance to the club. I've been sitting here for almost an hour. I can't get up the nerve to walk inside. Are you really going to do this? I get out, grab my gym bag, hesitate, get back into the car, wait, pound the steering wheel, get out, get back inside, scream against the sound deadening windows, then get out ... and walk up to and into the building, heading toward the men's locker room with determination.

I have one fall back position, and that's that this guy doesn't know I know about him and Roger. I can always back out of what I'm about to do ... Introduce myself ... chat him up ... suggest a game of racquetball or what ever ... suggest coffee one afternoon, or a beer at the club's pub ... then ... eventually ... ULTIMATELY...

I suddenly realize that I can't do this. This is insane, I tell myself as I turn into the locker room and--

There he is!

I stop short, my gaze falling to his firm, muscular, young body for a moment. I tear my eyes away and head for my locker. My heart is pounding, and again my cock is hardening. I have to sit down to hide the bulge growing in my groin. I half glance over my shoulder and see him coming my way.

Oh, God, I think, trying to occupy my mind with shedding my office wear -- except for my slacks, of course -- in preparation for donning my gym clothes. He knows. He knows I want him. He knows Roger told me about him. FUCK you, Roger! I bet you told him. Called him, told him, gave him the heads up. 'My friend wants you to suck his cock'. I'll fucking kill you when I...

Then I hear the locker a couple down from me open, and I realize he is only getting into his own stuff, dressing post-work out to leave the club. I look to him again, and when he meets my gaze, I smile. I engage him in some banal chit chat -- How's it going? ... Is the gym busy? ... Did they get the sauna fixed? -- as I continue to dress down.

I am to the point where I need to remove my slacks, but my cock is still solid as a rock. With my shirt resting across my lap, I'm not concerned that he can detect my excitement, but ... I can't stand to strip! I glance over at him again, which -- upon seeing how tight and firm he is -- my cock only twitches eagerly.

"Damn!" I say after a moment. I snatch up my cell phone, tap at the screen a couple of times, then say as if speaking aloud to myself, "Forgot that damn meeting. Gonna be late now."

I reverse my actions, donning the suit items that I'd just spent so much time shedding. I have to get away from this guy. Now! My mind is exploding with thoughts that are at war with one another. On one hand, I want to stick my hand out and -- as I'd played out in my mind -- introduce myself and get this show on the road. On the other hand, all I want to do is maintain my currently boring sexual life -- and identity -- and run like hell.

By the time I am fully dressed and ready to head out, the swelling in my groin has subsided and I can rise without embarrassment. Coincidentally, he is dressed and ready to head out, too. My heart skips a beat as I realize we'll be walking out together. I stop at the registration desk, just to create a gap between us. But when I turn and head out the front entrance, I find that some sort of delay on his part has put us within hand shaking distance again.

Before I realize what I'm doing, I offer out my hand, saying, "Sorry, I ... don't think I know your name. I'm Mark. Mark Taylor."

He takes my hand and introduces himself, too. We head out toward the parking lot, continuing to chat, and my mind is still being so ravaged by contradictory thoughts that I don't make the important discovery about the name he gave me...

It's not the name that goes with the young man who helped Old Man Murphy that one day, or blew Roger's cock another day. Roger and I have been talking about two totally different men! And now, here I am, walking out of the gym, side by side with a young hunk that -- unbelievably! -- I am realizing I want to suck my cock.

~~~~~~~~~~

CLOSED​

 

[jushorny]

Joshua Jackson:

My friends all call me Josh and I am beginning my second year at the university. I’m from a mid-size city in the Midwest and I’m the youngest in my family, having 1 brother and 2 sisters. My parents have spent their lives working to raise and provide for us so, when this baseball scholarship came up, it was pretty much a given that I would be attending this university if I wanted to further my education. That was fine by me since it got me far away from my hometown.

My optimistic outlook on life, my hard work ethic, good grades, and athleticism are all attributes that attract people to me. In other words, I was well liked and easy on the eyes. One might think that would give me good cause to be an arrogant asshole, but I just didn’t have that in me. I enjoyed life and like all men my age tended to be constantly horny.

The first time I had sex was my freshmen year in high school with a gorgeous, slightly slutty senior. She was known to be one of the easier girls in the school. My first sexual experience was beyond exciting and only served to increase my hormones and my quest for sex. The sex with this girl only lasted a short time but, because of her kiss and tell attitude, it afforded me the opportunity to be wanted by many other girls in school. Apparently, even though sex was something new to me, I was pretty much a natural at pleasing women and had a body that attracted them. Judging from what I saw in the locker room I knew my equipment was just slightly above average in size.

I had seen Mark Taylor before but had never been introduced. I knew he was a faculty member and on the Scholarship Board. I made a mental note to keep my sights on him as his friendship could be beneficial as time progressed. I knew he was married and as a couple they were both quite attractive. When I first saw her I imagined how beautiful they must look together embracing without their clothes.

I had just finished my workout at the Athletic Club heading to my locker when I saw Mark and thought this might be my opportunity to meet the man. We had a small conversation as I stripped down and began dressing in street clothes. For some reason I got the feeling he was watching me. I do enjoy showing my body so it wasn’t making me uncomfortable at all. For some reason Mark seemed to be taking his time undressing. He had his shirt off but was sitting on the bench with it covering his lap. Being the first time I’d seen him without his shirt I noticed he has a very well built chest, nice shoulders, arms and abs. I could imagine his wife having a field day rubbing and teasing his nipples.

Before I had a chance to introduce myself he mumbled something about a meeting and proceeded to put his shirt back on. I quickly finished dressing in hopes of talking with him as he walked out but that didn’t transpire either. Eventually we met back up just as we headed out the door into the parking lot. It was there that he introduced himself.

“Joshua Jenkins’” I said, “but everyone calls me Josh. I’m a soph here and on the baseball team. On a scholarship actually so I’ve seen you around and know you’re on the board.”

Mark seemed a bit tense or his mind was elsewhere, I wasn’t sure which, but I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable and decided it would be best for me to head off.

“It was nice to meet you Mark, but I should run. Too bad you have to miss your workout, but it doesn’t look like your body will suffer much from it. Maybe we’ll run into each other again here. Hope your meeting goes well.” I smiled to let him know it wasn’t anything he did or said and that I wanted to remain friendly.

 

[Tony2015]

“Joshua Jenkins” the man of my brand new and very inappropriate dreams says, taking my hand. "But everyone calls me Josh."

"Good to meet you, Josh," I say, releasing his hand a bit quicker than I normally would with any other random man I'd just met. I was ... self conscious about gripping that hand too long. I was already fantasizing that one day it would be grasping my cock tightly, stroking it, feeding it into the young man's wet, warm mouth.

"I’m a soph here and on the baseball team," Josh continues. "On a scholarship actually, so I’ve seen you around and know you’re on the board.”

"Oh, of course," I say, as if I recognize him from one of the many interviews through which new players must go. I don't know it now, but later I will indeed recall having sat in on one of his interviews ... and it is because of that interview that I've mistaken him for the other young athlete from whom Roger got his oral pleasure. "Glad to hear you got the scholarship."

In addition to my comfy corporate position, I am also a part time Biz Ed Professor and Scholarship Committee Member at the local University. I like my work at the school -- considerably more than my work downtown -- because, deep in my soul, I'd always wanted to be a teacher. I'd even gotten my Master's in Education so that I could teach in the K-12 programs, but I'd nearly gotten myself in trouble when -- as a 26 year old, still single man -- I had a couple of affairs with sexy, flirtatious high school seniors. Oh sure, they were all of legal age, but it had still been against school policy. And, of course, there had been the issue of being engaged at the time to my current wife.

When rumors began circulating about the affairs, I'd done as my grand daddy would have said and got the hell out of Dodge. I landed the job downtown and thought I would never return to education again. It was Roger who'd convinced me to take the University position. He was and still is on the Scholarship Board, but of course, his interest in being part of the school was the close proximity of so many sexy, young, horny women.

For me, though, it had been about tickets. For an annual donation to the Scholarship Fund of $3,000 and the teaching of a Business Education class one term a year, I got reduced cost, season tickets to my choice of University Sports programs, as well as first choice of reduced cost tickets for the school's theater and music programs.

I made out like a bandit for donating a relatively small sum of cash and doing something I'd always wanted to do anyway, teach. The only hard part -- something I'd succeeded in doing so far -- was keeping my hands off the shapely bodies parading about the campus in clothes that seemed to get skimpier and thinner with every passing school year.

Is this the same thing? I wondered as Josh and I continued toward the parking lot, chatting about the upcoming season. I've already decided to cheat on my wife. I've already decided I want to cheat on her with a MAN. So ... does doing that cheating on her with a student mean anything at all?

We reach the end of the sidewalk, and we say our good byes. "Maybe we’ll run into each other again here. Hope your meeting goes well.”

"I'm sure we will," I say, again shaking his hand but -- this time -- holding it a bit longer than I had the first time. "And it's a business meeting, so ... they go the way they go."

I chuckle at my criticism of the duty ahead, turn, and head for my car. I slow as I pass an SUV, looking into the reflection of the back window. Josh is walking away, so I turn to view him again. He's a good looking young man, with the muscular legs and buttocks of a baseball player. I watch him cross the parking lot, then -- when it looks like he might turn and catch me ogling him -- I turn quickly and continue to my car.

I sit there for a long moment, though certainly not the hour that I'd sat there before, just thinking about what I am wanting to do. My motivations are confusing me. Is this simply about being bi-curious ... about partaking of just one male-male experience in an effort to expand my sexual horizons ... to say Yes, I've been with a man...? Unlike Roger, it wouldn't take much for me to do that. Hell, beating off with my left, rather than my right hand would be as frontier-reaching as a manned NASA mission to Mars.

Or ... am I really bi-sexual deep down. I can't decide. Not only can't I decide, but I can't even determine whether or not it matters. Just do it! I chastise myself. Do it ... and see what comes next.

My life in general and my sex life in particular are about as hum drum as they can be right now. I need to shake things up, and sitting there listening to Roger talk about being blown by another man -- who, wrongly, I still think to be Josh -- then realizing how much I'd been affected by wanting to touch Josh and be touched by him, too...

"Do it," I tell myself, starting the car and heading off into the City, planning my imminent sexual affair with, as Roger had put it, someone sporting similar equipment.



When he's heading for the tunnel of the stadium and, presumably, the baseball team's locker rooms, Josh looks up and makes eye contact with me. I give him a polite smile, then a friendly wave. As he gets closer, I lie, "The Scholarship Board sent me out to see how our new recruits are doing ... see if the Program's money is being invested well."

I come down the steps to the field and offer my hand again. Again, there's a round of chit chat -- about players, about the upcoming pre-season games and tournament, about the coach -- and, knowing he needs to get cleaned up, I suggest, "Let's grab a cup of coffee, Josh." I point off into the distance, saying, "Cross the street from the stadium ... little place called Joes' Jo ... is twenty minutes enough?"

 

[jushorny]

I could feel his eyes on my butt as I left him and headed towards my beat-up Honda.

I seriously was more confused that I’d like to admit. I was bi-sexual and connecting to this very handsome, very masculine man who happened to be married to the most gorgeous blond I’ve ever seen. What was it I wanted?

Mark seemed different, like…uhm…not sure, but there was something. I became torn between the different thoughts running through my head. First, I was well aware of networking and its benefits. I might be from a smaller city, but I had learned early that making connections often paid off later.

That was the practical me, there was also the sexual me, wondering if I might have a chance to taste his gorgeous wife. I felt confident that if I played my cards right I could bed his wife. I couldn’t decide if I was more after his wife or him?

The last threw me for a loop. I found something genuinely sexy with a heavy dose of friendship with Mark. I think, I really wanted to become his friend, it seemed like all the other things would be better if I became his friend. Sex would definitely be involved if we were friends.

Wait, if his friendship is my goal why do I get a total erection thinking about him and his wife. This is so not right but I couldn’t get it out of my head. I wondered if the fact he seemed to be coming on to me was the reason. It wasn’t what he said, it was his body language that made me begin to think he might be interested in me.

It was when Mark invited me to coffee that I knew this provided me with my best possible chance for getting what I really wanted. I knew I only had a short period of time to decide just what I wanted most.

With Mark standing behind me in the locker room, I slid my pants down, my bare ass in his view. “Yea, Mark, 20 is good. I just need to shower.” I said with my ass facing his and my face tilted to watch his eyes.

Mark’s eyes never left my body as I headed naked towards the shower. That was when it became clear. I wanted him, I wanted his wife. This had little to do with furthering myself and much more to do with gratification. I was, after all, a horny college student.

I pulled my semi in a motion to force it to slap my thigh. I tugged at my cock and looked into Mark’s eyes. Let me get cleaned up and I’ll meet you there in a few.”

While the hot steamy water traversed my naked body, my thoughts wandered. I imagined being at their home having dinner. The wine was flowing freely. I desperately wanted to and knew there just wasn't enough time. I dressed in jeans and t shirt. I decided the deep blue shorts briefs would be the best.

I entered the coffee shop and immediately spied Mark, There were two cups of coffee meaning he ordered for me. He seemed hunched over a bit, like something was bothering. him. Me being me, wanted nothing more than to make him comfortable. My hand reached out and rubbed his shoulder.

"Hey Mark, thanks for the coffee." My fingers begin slowly massaging his neck.

 

[Tony2015]

Despite the excitement caused by feeling Josh's hand on my neck, I tense a bit. We are in a public place, and though there are more empty seats than full ones, there are still enough people within sight of us -- some of whom know me by sight, and still others of whom know me name -- that I feel uncomfortable at the display of affection, however slight.

I lean forward, away from his touch. It is an inconspicuous gesture, aided by the fact that the lean allows me to reach his steaming mug. I offer it up to Josh, then gesture to the seat opposite me, quickly asking, "Tell me more about his new coach."

I couldn't really give a crap about the school's new baseball coach, of course. But it was the first thought that came to me, so after Josh sits and begins telling both about the man's past accomplishments and about his hopes for this year's team, I show the young man my undivided attention.

Occasionally, people I know pass by, some simply sharing pleasantries with me, others stopping to chat. I introduce each to Josh before they leave, then return to our conversations about baseball, college, and...

"So, Josh ... are you seeing someone?" I eventually ask boldly. "Good looking lad like yourself must have enough young women hanging around him to field his own softball team, right?"

I'm not sure what kind of answer I want to hear. If he is popular with others, that would mean he's likely worth having as a lover and yet, at the same time, less interested in becoming involved with a man almost twice his age. And if he isn't popular with others, the question has to be asked is there something wrong with him or is he simply choosing not to have an active sex life at present.

I am, of course, still under the impression that Josh is the young man who sucked Roger's cock this past weekend. It might have been more appropriate to ask how many young men he had hanging around. But even at our progressive University, homosexuality in the locker room is still a tension causing topic. So, unless a young man is already out of the closet, you don't simply ask him whether he has a boyfriend or not.

 

[jushorny]

I got an uneasy feeling when Mark pulled away from me. It was either he didn’t want me to touch him, or he was concerned about what others might think, either could be true and how I would proceed would be determined by my assessment. In my mind, it wasn’t normal for someone as hunky and sexy as Mark to recoil from the touch of another, whether it be male or female. I began to think I had miss-read Mark, that he wasn’t looking to connect with me in any way, shape, or form. I began to think Mark might be a stronger challenge than anticipated. But then, why did he invite me for coffee?

He authoritatively took control of the conversation, turning the attention to the new baseball coach. I wondered if he wasn’t some sort of administrative scout, seeking out information on the new hires.

We were interrupted often with acquaintances or colleagues of his stopping by. To me it was annoying, except for the fact that from time to time Mark would stand to greet someone. It afforded me the chance to study his body. He certainly knew how to dress. His shirt clung to his chest, accentuating his pecs and upper arms. There was no belly extending out just above the waistband of his pants. His pants fit perfectly snug, highlighting both a well sized bulge in the front and round tush in the back. I could feel my cock hardened every time he stood. At times I needed to lick the drool from my lips.

With all the talk about the coach and studies I began to think Mark wanted nothing more than to know me. He didn’t want my body, he didn’t want anything remotely intimate with me. No, he was performing one of his duties, a duty of knowing the students he taught, the students he guided. I was internally deflated. But then again, I had felt his stares and they were anything but innocent so why this distance?

That’s about when he brought our conversation around to asking if I was seeing anyone. I avoided answering as long as possible before deciding to be truthful. “No, Mr. Taylor, I’m not seeing anyone. I had a girlfriend back home, but that kind of ended when I agreed to attend school here. Now…well...I guess I’m spending some time finding out just what I like. I don’t see a good reason to be tied down to one person right now. To be really frank, it seems like I have the perfect opportunity to experiment and see just what gets me going the most, if you catch my drift.” I wasn’t sure just how blatant I had to be to let him know I was interested and hoped I was obvious enough.

“Well, we seem to be talking about me only. So, tell me, Mr. Taylor, tell me about you. I don’t know a lot. I know your have a long friendship with another faculty member and that you both consider each other best friends. Well, at least that’s the story around campus” I spoke in a quiet voice while staring into his enticing blue eyes. “I also have seen you at functions with your wife. I hope it’s not out of line to tell you she is one gorgeous lady. I bet she is hotter than hot in the bed, eh Mr. Taylor? It’s no wonder you smile so much, I would too if I knew I was going home to her every night.” I couldn’t help but smirk as I said that. “Hell, I’d love seeing the two of you together, naked, and rolling in the sheets as it were. I bet you could tell some stories. I bet you’re pretty much fully satisfied sexually, right Mr. Tylor?” I know, I went further than I should have, but he was turning me on way beyond belief. I rubbed my hard-on without him noticing and wondered if I had taken the conversation too far.

I began an internal struggle. I knew it was important to befriend Mark. He could be very helpful with my college career, but what I wanted more was to get him naked. Yea, I wanted to have sex with Mark even if it was a one way situation. I was jonsing big time to see him naked, to feel the heat of his body, to worship it, and to caress my way to what I assumed was a massive cock waiting for me to play with it. I wasn’t as needy about getting together with Mark and his wife as a couple as I was with needing to get it on with him. Sure, if Mark and I got together and that transferred to a chance for me to fuck his beautiful wife, well, who was I to complain.

Before Mark could answer another faculty member stopped at our table. This guy was older and boring me to no end with his conversation. I knew it wasn’t appropriate, But I stood up, “Hey Mr. Taylor, I hate to run, but I have a class to catch. Sorry I asked about you and didn’t have time to hear your response, but I can’t miss class. Let me know if you wanna have coffee again, or get together to tell me your story, like I’ve told mine. Here’s my cell give me a call anytime.” I said standing up and hoping my semi wouldn’t be noticeable. I felt his eyes on me as I began walking out of the coffee shop.