Date: Sun, 17 Jun 2007 11:57:36 -0500
From: Lance Dawson <lance.dawson@hotmail.com>
Subject: Section 9 - Lance's Story

Chad was just like all the rest of the little bitches whose cherries I had
popped.  He clung to me tightly like a little child while we held each
other.  He had already forgotten about all the pain.  He was mine--forever.
He would always remember me, more than any other man he would ever be with.
He would need me forever.  He would dream about me every night, no matter
whom else he was with.

You always remember the one who pops your cherry.  What's more, when you've
been fucked by a huge 12" cock, you have to expect that he will always be
the one you remember and want first.  It's just the natural order of things.

I must admit that even I have a soft spot for the man who popped my cherry,
Jay.  Even though I understand the psychology behind the phenomenon very
well, and even though during my cherry popping I had taught my cherry popper
how to do it and was therefore not the passive partner as is generally the
case, nevertheless, I can't escape the fact that Jay's cock was the first
one up my ass, and that it and he are and will always be very special to me.

In a sense, it's ridiculous.  Why should a particular cock mean so much to
someone just because it's the first cock up ones ass?  And why should that
cock's owner always mean so much to that person also?

The answer is this: there simply is no logical explanation.  I can't change
it.  No one can change it.  It's just natural.  I'm just as subject to it as
everyone else.  In fact, my asshole just twitched as it yearned for Jay's
cock again, just thinking about it as I wrote about it.  It happens whenever
I think of Jay or his cock.  Whenever anyone thinks about the man or about
the boy who popped his cherry, or about his cock, his asshole twitches.  It
must.  There's no use trying to fight it.  It's just the natural order of
things.

"God, Chad," I finally spoke up.  "You're quite a guy for a new freshman,
especially a boy with absolutely no experience.  I'm still not sure I
believe you about that."

"Thanks, Lance.  I think you're just trying to be nice.  But I really am
telling you the truth.  I think it's just because you just know how to turn
someone on."

"No, really," I said.  "Your basket is incredible, and you're a natural in
bed.  You know, I've just been thinking.  In a couple of years I'll be
leaving the university, and someone's got to be ready to take over my duties
here.  I've got to train a few guys to do that.  I don't think I'm going to
find any one guy who can handle it all.  I think I'd like you to be one of
them.  I'd like to train you to be one of my protégés.  What do you say?"

"Hey, fucker, that sounds great!"

For some reason, I'm not exactly sure why, it suddenly pissed me off when
the little bitch called me a "fucker," so I decided to make him pay.  I got
up on my knees, my cock and balls hanging down just over his mouth.

"Open your fucking mouth, bitch!" I yelled at him.

He could tell I wasn't playing.  Petrified, he slowly opened his mouth.

"Wider, cunt, wider!" I ordered.

He obeyed.  I shoved my huge cock violently and deeply into his mouth, over
and over again.  He choked.

"Listen, you cock sucker.  Don't you EVER call me a `fucker' again, or any
other derogatory name such as bitch, cunt, etc.  You may call me only
`Lance,' `Babe,' `Dude,' etc.  You can call me names such as `bitch' or
`fucker' ONLY when we're having sex to heighten your or my pleasure.  Don't
you EVER forget that I'M the boss here--NOT you!    You are NOT, and never
will be, my equa!!.  Got it?"

He was really choking now.  He hadn't had any air in a long time.  He was
thrashing.  His legs were jerking.

"Uh huh," he choked out.

"Good!  Then that's settled," I said, as I took my cock out of his mouth.

Chad finally stopped coughing as he finally caught his breath.  He recoiled
from me a little.

"I'm really sorry, Lance.  I didn't mean anything by it.  Honest."

"OK, OK," I said, a little flustered.  "Then let's get back to what we were
discussing.  You think you still want to be one of my protégés or not?"

"Sure, Lance, if you think I can.  Sure."

"Oh, I'm sure of it, Babe.  I'm sure of it.  Now here's what we're going to
do."

First I shaved his genitals.  I told him it would make him look bigger, and
I would do it regularly to keep him smooth.  Then I told him everything he
needed to do.  There were certain things he had to do at his dorm, which I
told him I would narrate in detail later.  He would go to the gym with me
regularly, so he could bulk up, and so we could slap each other around in
the locker room and showers.  That way, any students there could see us
playing and watch his big cock swaying back and forth.  He would meet
regularly with me at my room for "training and debriefing" sessions.  His
eyes bugged out as he listened to all I told him.  Then I told him what he
had to do as soon as he returned to his dorm.

"You got all that?" I asked him.

"Sure do, Lance," he said, with a big grin on his face.

"Good, Babe," I said.  "Now get out of here, go back to your room at the
dorm, and get started turning yourself into a sex god."

"OK, Lance," he responded.  "Oh, and I just wanted to say again, I'm sorry
for calling you a `fucker' before.  I didn't mean anything by it.  I just
thought we were close enough to do it.  I won't do it again, ever.  I
promise.  I know I could never be your equal."

"That's OK, Babe.  I'm sorry, too.  It's just that I'm used to being the
absolute sex chief around here.  I think I probably overreacted a little.
No hard feelings?"

"Sure, Lance.  No problem."

I gave him a big kiss, and the little bitch left.  Once again, I had popped
another cherry, and the boy was mine.  This one was a little different,
however.  I was going to take Chad and turn him into a sex god like me, a
lower level god to be sure, but a god nonetheless.

This should be interesting, I thought, and it was.  The next part of the
narrative is as Chad related to me sometime later.  It relates what happened
after he returned to his dorm room and proceeded to do exactly what I had
told him.

Thus begins Chad's narrative:

It was very early in the morning when I got back to my room, I'd say about
4:30 a.m.  Paolo, my roommate, was still asleep.  As Lance had instructed, I
took off all my clothes and got into bed nude, for the first time, as I had
never slept nude before in my life.

Paolo and I both slept in late because it was Saturday.  I let Paolo get up
before I did, so that he would see me nude when I got out of bed.  I let him
get up and go down the hall to take a shower.  While he was taking a shower,
I jerked on my cock a little to get it semi-erect.  When Paolo returned to
the room in his robe, I got out of bed and faced him fully nude.

"DUDE!" Paolo said.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"I mean, I thought you slept in your underwear."

"I normally don't, but I thought I would for a couple weeks till I got to
know you so I wouldn't shock you right away.  It's not a problem for you, is
it?"

"Uh, well, uh, I guess not," he said, really hesitating.

"I mean, you don't have any problem with the nude male body, do you?  You
did say you were a jock in high school."

"Yeah, but that was in the locker room and the shower."

"So, what's the difference?"

"Uh, none I guess," Paolo said, a little red in the face.

"That's good, `cause I'm really not ashamed of my body."

"Yeah, and I can see why," I heard Paolo try to mumble under his breath.

"What's that, Dude?" I said.

"Uh, nothing, nothing.  No, no, it's no problem with me, Dude."

I pulled on my foreskin a little as I walked to the closet to get a towel.
I started to get a hard on.  Paolo couldn't take his eyes off me.  I
couldn't help but smile.  Lance's instructions were working perfectly.

"Got a problem, Dude?" I asked.

"Uh, no," he said, as he quickly looked away, getting really red in the
face.

I grabbed the smallest towel I could find and wrapped it around my waist.  I
was now fully erect and my erection tented the towel quite noticeably.
Lance was such a slut.  How did he come up with these things?

"Aren't you going to wear a bath robe to the shower, Chad?" he asked me.

"No, that's alright.  Kind of a waste, don't you think?"

I tucked a corner of the towel in and walked out of the room toward the
shower leaving the door open.  I figured Paolo would watch me from behind.
I looked back quick to check.  I was right.  He was watching me every step
of the way.

There were four other guys in the hall.  They couldn't believe it was I who
was coming toward them wearing nothing but a small towel.  They noticed the
tenting.

All of a sudden, I let the towel drop to reveal my huge erection.  I heard
faint gasps, but I didn't look at anyone in the face.  I wanted to remain
nonchalant.

I looked down slowly at the towel.  I didn't bend over to pick it up.  That
would have obscured the view of my cock.  Instead, I squatted, thus leaving
my cock in plain view and giving a nasty, naughty view of a cock and hard
balls "cocked" and ready to shoot at a target.  As I picked up the towel
with one hand, I pulled back the foreskin with the other a few times, as if
to put it back into place because I needed to squat.  I heard more faint
gasps.

I rose, replaced the towel, and proceeded to the showers.  Fortunately, they
were all in use, so I had a good excuse to throw the towel over my shoulder
and go to use the urinals.  To my delight, they were all in use, too, so I
had to stand around with my proud erection for all to see.  Finally, I was
able to use a urinal.  I noticed many of the guys whispering and pointing to
me.  It was obvious I was making an impression.

After I had used the urinal, which naturally took awhile because I was so
fucking hard, I proceeded to the showers.  While in the shower, I jerked
off.  This allowed me to take enough time in the shower so a new set of guys
would be in the bathroom when I was done.  In addition, my cock would be as
engorged as possible when I finished.  Naturally, I didn't jack off while I
was in the shower as I wanted to make sure I remained as blood-engorged as
possible for the remainder of my planned action.

When I finished my shower, I dried off as slowly as I could, taking care to
dry off my cock and balls and asshole as slowly as possible in front of
everyone.  I pulled back my foreskin over and over to make sure the head of
my cock was adequately cleaned and dried.  After I was dry, I threw the
towel over my shoulder and once again made a show of strutting to the
urinals.

The show made another lasting impression on all the guys present.  I'm sure
most of the guys there were straight, but they dropped their jaws just as
fucking far as anyone there who was gay.

I wrapped the towel around my waist again and walked back to my room.  I
considered dropping it again on the way but figured that was just a little
too obvious.

I wondered whether Paolo would be there or not.  He was waiting there when I
arrived.  What's more, he had a faint smile on his face.  In addition, his
best friend, Beau, was there with him.

"Hi, Chad," Beau said, as I walked into the room.

"Oh, Hi, Beau," I said.

I turned my back to them, still wearing the towel, as I walked toward the
closet.  I heard them whispering.  OK, I thought to myself.  It's obvious
what they want, so I'll give it to them.  I took off the towel, keeping my
bare ass toward them, and kept looking through the closet for some clothes.
I heard them chuckling.  Suddenly, I turned around so I was in full view of
the two of them.  I turned my feet at about a 90° angle, striking a modeling
pose, so my cock jutted out slightly.

"Hey, Dudes!  You guys know what the weather's like?  I really don't know
what to wear."

Paolo and Beau stared at my cock for a few seconds and swallowed hard.
Their eyes were as wide open as they could get without using surgical
instruments to force them open any wider.  Just at that moment, our next
door neighbor, Drew, walked in.

"Jesus Christ, Paolo!" Drew said as he walked in the door looking straight
at Paolo and Beau.  He was unable to see me because I was secluded from his
view to his right by the closet.  "I had no idea Chad was hung like a horse!
  Why didn't you tell me?"

Paolo and Beau didn't say anything.  They just looked in my direction with
their eyes.

"What's the matter, Dudes?" Drew said, as he took a couple more steps into
the room and then saw me to his right.

"Oh, my God!  Chad!  I thought you were still in the shower!" Drew said, as
he got beet red.

"That's OK, Drew," I said.  "It's rather flattering, I guess, that people
are talking about me."

"Talking about you, Dude?" Beau finally said, giggling.  "It's all over the
fucking dorm.  Shit, it's probably all over the fucking university by now!"

"Aw, that's crazy.  People got more important things to do that talk about
me," I said, acting as humble and modest as I could.

"DUDE!" Paolo said.  "You're already a legend.  Since you dropped your towel
in the hall just a few minutes ago, I've already gotten 30 email messages
and 50 IM messages about you.  Everyone is jealous of me wishing they were
your roommate instead of me.  And a lot of them are gay guys wanting me to
arrange a time for you to show them your package!"

I knew what I was about to say was probably going to shock all three of
them, but I couldn't resist.

"Hey, Dude, that's no problem," I told him.  "Any friend of yours is a
friend of mine, Paolo.  Anyone you want to let see what I've got can come
over any time.  Like I told you, I'm really free with my body."

"Wow, Chad!  That's really cool, Dude."

"But let's not get too crazy with it," I told Paolo.  "I mean, I DO have to
find a little time to study and go to class, you know."

They all three laughed.

So, for a few weeks our room was like a show place for my package.  There
must have been hundreds of people who came to see it, guys and girls alike.
I made sure that no one brought in cameras or cell phones, however.  I
didn't need to see my package and face on the internet.  I didn't think my
family and friends back home were quite ready for that.

Then, one night about a month after all this started, Paolo and I had gotten
into bed.  Paolo decided he wanted to ask me something.

"Chad, I've never seen you go out with a girl.  Are you gay?"

"Wow, Dude.  You come right to the point, don't you?"

"I'm sorry.  It's really none of my business.  Forget I asked it."

"No, that's OK.  But let me ask you something first.  Would it make any
difference to you if I were?"

"No, I don't think so.  You're a great guy.  I know you wouldn't take
advantage of it.  I mean. I know if I didn't want anything to do with it,
you'd leave me alone, right? "

"Sure I would, I mean, that is, if I were gay," I said.

"Right.  If you were gay."

There were about two minutes of silence.

"So, Chad?  Are you?  That is, if you want to answer me."

"Yeah, Paolo, I'm gay.  Now can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"You promise no matter what it is you won't let it upset you."

"I promise."

"OK.  I don't know whether you're gay or straight, Paolo, and I don't care
whether you want to do anything about what I'm going to tell you or not.
That's up to you.  But ever since I saw your cute little Italian ass walk
into our room that first day we met, I've wanted to get you into bed with me
sooooo bad.  You have no idea--not just for sex, but to make out and to
cuddle and to sleep next to.  If you're gay, sex would be a nice plus, but
even if you're not gay, I'd just like to be with you.  You're so fucking
cute.  I just wanted you to know that, Paolo.  If you're not interested,
that's fine.  Please don't let it affect our friendship.  If you're not
interested, I'll never say another word about it."

"Wow, Dude!  That's really hot.  I don't know what to say, Chad.  I never
thought anyone as cute as you could be interested in anyone like me.  And
besides," he continued, chuckling, "someone with a cock like yours certainly
can't have any problem getting as much cock, or for that matter pussy, as he
wants."

I laughed.  "Things aren't always what they seem, Paolo.  But like I said,
you don't have to do or say anything.  I just wanted you to know.  No, I
just HAD for you to know."

Paolo got out of his bed.  He pulled down his boxers and revealed a very
nice cute uncut dark thick Italian cock, rather short, but respectable all
the same.  I'd never seen it before.

"I know it's nothing compared to yours, Chad."

"I think it's beautiful, Paolo, just like I always knew it would be."

"Lance, I want to get in bed with you, to sleep nude with you, to kiss you,
to hold you, to touch you, to caress you, to feel all of you against me.
But I'm not ready, and may never be ready, to go any farther than that.  If
you can't accept that, then I'd better get back in my own bed."

"Paolo, I want however much of you I can have.  I'll respect whatever bounds
you want to establish.  I won't pretend that I don't want more, but I
promise I'll never push you for more.  I'll wait for you to ask for more, if
you ever do."

"Yes, Lance.  I understand," he said.

"OK.  Now let's get into bed and start enjoying each other."

That's how my roommate and I started sharing one bed together for the first
time.  From then on, unless one or both of us were out of town, or one or
both of us spent the night somewhere else, we spent the night together in
one bed in each others' arms.

Paolo was one hot little bitch, too.  I soon taught him how to kiss well.
His hot Italian tongue and breath drove me over the edge, and sometimes it
was hard to keep my promise to him not to push him for more.  Once I came
without even touching myself while we were kissing.  It really surprised
him.  He giggled and really enjoyed knowing he'd done that to me.

I often had to jerk off while we kissed.  He didn't mind that.  Eventually,
he was jerking himself off, too.  And soon he was willing to let us jerk
each other off.  He really enjoyed finally getting his hands on my cock.  I
just knew he'd been looking forward to it for a long, long time.

In the middle of one night, after a few months together, I woke up in bed
suddenly.  At first I thought I felt Paolo's lubed hand jerking off my cock.
  But then I noticed that Paolo's head wasn't next to mine.  And then I felt
the unmistakable sensation of hot wet breath on my cock.  I looked under the
covers and saw Paolo's eyes looking up at me with his mouth full of my cock.

"My God, Paolo!  What are you doing?" I asked, as if I'd never had a cock in
my mouth before.

"I'd think a stud like you would have a general idea what a blow job is," he
said giggling.

"I know what a fucking blow job, is, bitch," I said, grinning at him, "it's
just that I kinda thought we might have discussed this first."

"Sorry, Dude.  I sort of got hungry and wanted a midnight snack."

"OK, then smart ass, if that's how you want it.  Eat that fucking cock!"

I got naughty and started thrusting upward and almost choked him a few
times.

"Sorry, Babe," I said, as I laughed a little. "That wasn't nice.  But you
really fucking turned me on for a second there.  On the other hand, you sort
of deserved it."

"Yeah," he said, giggling, "I guess I did," as he went back down on me.

"Now let me talk you through how to give a man a proper blow job, Babe.  And
then I'll give you one and send you into orbit," I said.

"Sounds great, Lance.  I can't wait."

I taught him how to suck me off.  He did fairly well for his first time.
With a little experience, I figured he get pretty good at it.  When I did
him, I blew him away, so to speak, and eventually I deeped him, which wasn't
all that tough, actually, and took his entire load down my throat.

"Fuck, Lance," he said.  "Why'd you swallow my load?"

"Because I'm a nasty, naughty bitch who loves the taste of cum--especially
when it comes out of swarthy, uncut, thick cock like yours."

"Damn, Babe, you make me so fucking horny!" he said.

"That's what I'm here for, to be your sex toy.  Haven't you figured that out
yet?"

"I'm starting to believe that.  I can't believe I was so lucky to get a
roommate who's hung like a horse and who'll deep my cock and then swallow my
load.  God must be on my side."

"He's looking down on me, too.  Of course, I had to push things along a
little."

"What's that mean?"

"Well, I had to shove my package almost literally in your and everyone
else's faces around here to get all of you interested, or else who knows
where we'd all be?"

"So basically you're just a whore!" he said, laughing out loud, "nothing but
a nasty whore, shoving that big fat cock in our faces till we weakened and
lusted after it."

"It worked, didn't it?" I said.  "You're all such suckers for a big cock,
such sluts."  I grinned as I chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess.  Too bad it's so true.  But you're just as bad."

"Yeah, you're right.  It's all a matter of degree.  What's big to you is
nothing to me.  You wouldn't believe the cock that I lust after."

"Really?  Would you take me with you to see the guy sometime?"

"Maybe sometime.  For now, let's just get some sleep."

Paolo and I spent the rest of that and the next year together in that dorm
room before Lance graduated.  We never went any farther than blow jobs.  I
continued to see Lance and others to satisfy my other sexual needs.  I never
did introduce Paolo to Lance or to any of my other sexual partners.  The
right moment just never seemed to come along.

By the time Lance graduated, he had groomed me and three others to be his
successors.  As I reported to Lance briefly soon after he started law
school, the four of us got an apartment together so we could coordinate our
efforts.  It became the central clearing house on campus for gay cherry
popping.  Lance was right in his prediction.  None of the four of us had the
stamina he did.  So after he graduated, all the "work" had to be split up
between the four of us.

The apartment was always busy with all the cherry popping we had to do.  We
also organized all the gay orgies at the university there.  It was also the
site of many professional gay films.  Both these activities helped finance
all our college expenses.  The gay fraternity was no longer the center of
the gay activities on the campus after Lance graduated.

It was a lot of fun living there together.  We decided immediately after we
arrived that it would be an all nude place to live.  We wore clothes only
when we left the apartment.  As soon as we returned, we had to take off our
clothes the second we closed the door.  The only exception was if one of our
family members were coming to visit.  Then we agreed to dress.  Otherwise,
we were always nude.

All friends, sex partners, professors, study partners, repairmen, you name
it, of whatever sex, always saw us nude at the apartment.  We did not
require that our guests undress, however.  We did nothing to approach them
for sex, but we also never did anything to dissuade them if they wanted to
do something with or to us--i.e., provided they were male.  Thus, there was
often something going on somewhere in the apartment.  It was quite a place
to live.

Soon after we started living together, we decided to get to know each other
better one evening by recounting our individual cherry popping stories with
Lance.  It got really hot.  As each one of us recounted our experiences, we
all started jerking off.  Soon that wasn't enough.  Blow jobs came next, and
before it was over, the four of us were having the most incredible fuck fest
you can imagine.

It was really nice to hear everyone's stories.  It made us all closer.  They
all did have many similarities, and they did make us feel very homesick for
Lance.  He really was very special to all of us.  The feelings we all had
for him were all pretty much the same.  No one who was not in our position
could understand it.  We couldn't really either.  It was sort of like a
totally natural but unexplainable thing.  It seemed the boys whose cherries
each of us popped had the same feelings about us that we had about Lance.
No words could adequately describe it, either, but I'll do my best.

It was sort of like being infatuated with him but more than that, and sort
of like being in love with him but less that than.  We all wanted him
desperately, almost to the point of chronically needing him, but not quite.
It went without saying that we would not and could not ever forget him.  We
also all agreed that the immediate image that came to mind whenever we
thought of Lance was of the tip of his huge lubed cock lightly touching our
innocent, as-yet not violated rosebuds one millisecond before he shoved his
cock through our sphincter as it gave us excruciating pain thus making all
of us the proud gay men we are today.

We all agreed that none of us remembered any of that pain any longer.  All
we remembered is the pleasure Lance gave to us and each of us gave to Lance
that night in each others' arms, and how each of us clung to Lance when it
was over.  None of us wanted to let him go--ever.  He had impaled us with his
huge, mammoth cock, virtually raped us, and yet we were and would remain his
sexual plaything forever.  We would always be there for him and go to him
whenever and wherever he called.

In addition, that very night, he had chosen each of us, out of all the other
blond-haired, blue-eyed little freshmen he'd fucked during that year, to be
one of his four protégés, to train us to do the very same thing to incoming
freshmen during our junior and senior years.  What an incredible honor!
What an incredible fucking life we were going to have for the last two years
of our college careers!!  What an incredible gift he had bestowed on us:
first fucking the shit out of our tight virgin holes and then training us to
do the same thing to countless other little bitches, each of whom would then
be as forever dedicated to us as we are to Lance.

Each of us now had the honor to choose our own protégé.  It had to be one of
the little boys we fucked and whose cherry we popped this first year, while
we were juniors, so we could train them for the two years it took to
complete their training.  In our case, the boys would be dark, not blond, as
the types would vary every two years.  The four of us went together to the
athletic store to purchase our cups as soon as we could.  We each got a
couple of colors in order to contrast when we decided to do our cherry
popping together, as I will describe further below.

We had a few advantages that Lance didn't.  We could go to the strip bars
together and interview freshmen at the same time.  Then, we could take up to
four of them home at the same time and, if we wanted, pop the cherries of
more than one of them together if we wanted.  Or, if one or more of us
wanted to be alone, that was OK, too.  But if two or more wanted to show our
boys how to flop and tug and then perhaps pop their cherries at the same
time, we could do that as well.  That was sometimes a real blast.

Sometimes it was fun to have one or more boys watch first while one or more
other boys' cherries were popped before theirs were popped.  It was a little
nasty and naughty, because the one or more who watched would often get
really freaked out about having their cherries popped as they watched the
first ones having theirs popped.  But in the end it didn't matter because
Lance had taught us well.  All the little bitches would cling to each of us
after we finished popping their cherries no matter what had happened before.
  I'm sure Lance, as much of a lech as he was, would have been proud of all
four of us.

As I already said, we all missed Lance terribly.  We always would miss him
terribly, but probably not as much as during those two years when the four
of us lived together.  Each of us was constantly reminded of him because of
our close association with the other three who had known him so well and
been so closely associated with him.  I have a feeling Lance planned it that
way in order to further cement the personal bond each of us had with him.
It worked.

This is the end of Chad's narrative.

Chad and I had made a special connection.  Most of the boys I took back to
my frat room who flopped me and whose cherries I popped were just one-night
stands.  Not that they all wouldn't have preferred to see me more than just
once, and a few of them did see me one or two more times because I had
especially enjoyed my first fuck with them.

I did select three more boys over the next couple of months to be my
protégés, and naturally I did have to see them a few more times in order to
train them properly.  But my meetings with them were not like my meetings
with Chad.  I saw them because it was necessary.  I saw Chad because I
wanted to.

Chad was indeed special.  Although we never became serious per se, because
of my duties at the frat house and my activities at the strip clubs, we did
continue to see each other often during my junior and senior years.  I even
encouraged him to join the frat, but he decided not to, mostly I think
because I was leaving when he would still have two more years to live in the
frat house without me.

It's too bad, really.  I think he might have been able to handle the duties
as Sex Chief of the frat, had he joined the frat and lived there for my last
two years so I could have had the time I would have needed to train him
properly for the position.  But perhaps it was for the best.  We might have
gotten too close, and then I would have been in yet another relationship
where I would have had to say goodbye to someone with whom I was too deeply
involved.

Maybe Chad instinctively knew this and thus declined my invitation to join
the frat.  Perhaps he was protecting us both, and I was just too stupid to
see it, or just didn't want to see it.  If that's the case, and Chad ever
sees this, I want him to know how much I appreciate his saving me from
another extremely painful experience I didn't need.

Even so, it was hard to say goodbye to Chad when I graduated from college.
Fortunately, though, as perhaps Chad had deliberated designed, we had never
lived together nor had we ever had any semblance of an exclusive
relationship.  Consequently, the end of our relationship was in no way as
difficult as were the end of the three major relationships so far in my
life.

As you've noted so far in my narrative, my approach toward sex has differed
greatly at different times in my life, depending on the circumstances in
which I have found myself at those times.  In high school, and then again in
law school, I found myself in reciprocal loving relationships with three
beautiful, adoring jocks.

On the other hand, circumstances in college led me to play the role of a sex
machine in two ways, for the most part devoid of loving emotion.  First, I
was the Sex Chief of my frat at my undergraduate school.  I have already
related some of these experiences in this narrative.  Second, I was a male
escort from my sophomore through my senior years in college.  This allowed
me to pay my college expenses and save for a significant part of my law
school tuition.  I am not going to relate any of these experiences in this
narrative as it would be exhaustive to do so. However, they may be the
subject of a separate story sometime in the future.  As you will soon see
later in this narrative, the sex machine role was to be repeated once I left
law school.

I have enjoyed both approaches toward sex greatly.  Furthermore, they have
been very rewarding--monetarily, physically, and emotionally--and have served
my needs at those different times in my life, and have also served the needs
of the people in my life at those different times.  When you have a huge
thick 12" uncut cock, you can choose whatever approach to sex you want--or
even vary it from day to day, or hour to hour.  Men are yours to play with.
Such a cock provides you absolute power over men.  It's the natural order of
things.

*This concludes my digression to discuss the "flop and tug" and my sexual
experiences with it prior to my relationship with Matt.  I now return to the
narrative, taking up where it left off, that is, my face was directly in
front of Matt's cup, and he was obviously waiting for me to give him a flop
and tug.

I quickly removed Matt's cup allowing him to flop.  It was quite impressive,
as I expected it would be, and the pleasure he derived from the tug was also
substantial.  However, when he looked down at me after he was done
experiencing the pleasure from the tug, he saw something unusual for him.
Normally, the flopper is staring at the flop in complete awe.  I, however,
was looking up at him, smiling and winking.

The unspoken meaning of this became obvious to him very quickly: "Matt, I
DON'T flop, I GET flopped.  My flop is just as impressive if not more
impressive than yours--not that I didn't enjoy yours."

Matt grabbed me gently but firmly by the shoulders with his huge hands and
strong arms, and lifted me up onto my feet.  He pulled down my pants to
expose a jock strap.  Fortunately, I had worn it that day because all my
boxers and briefs were in the wash.  He dropped to his knees.  He put his
right hand at the base of the jock strap and his left hand near the top at
the right and quickly moved it to the left exposing my genitalia.  I quickly
flopped and tugged.  The feeling was fantastic.

"No one's done that to me for almost three years, Babe," I said.  "Thanks.
It was great."

"Why didn't you tell me?  I would've done it to you a long time ago," he
said.

"Just didn't occur to me, I guess."

"Didn't Jay do it to you?"

"No.  Remember, Jay was straight till he met me.  And I never told him
anything about it.  Just never thought about it."

"That's too bad.  You could've given each other so much pleasure flopping
each other."

"Yeah.  You're right.  I wish now that I'd thought of it.  I think he was
big enough to enjoy it, too.  He was pretty well hung for a gymnast.  He
really looked impressive for his small height and weight.  I think that's
one thing about him that really turned me on.  He was sooooo short, but
everything was pure muscle, and then that cock and those balls were gigantic
in relation.  God, he was magnificent."

"Christ, Dude.  Are you trying to make me insanely jealous, or what?"

"You fucking brought his name up, bitch!"

"OK, you're right.  Frankly, I'd like to meet him.  He sounds like a real
fox.  In fact, if he's everything you say he is, I'd like to boink him, if
you want to know the truth."

"In your fucking dreams, Babe.  In your fucking dreams."

"OK, OK.  Then let's just change the subject.  I don't go around talking
about my past boyfriends, do I?"

"You're right.  You've been very patient, and I appreciate it.  Please do
keep in mind, though, that we did live here, in this apartment, for nearly
two years.  So it's not like I can totally wipe him from my memory.  But it
is totally fair of you to expect that I stop talking to you about him.  And
I do promise you that I'm totally committed to you now and NOT to him
anymore."

"OK, Babe.  That's fair.  I can't expect you to do anymore than try your
best.  And I'll keep trying to do my best not to talk about Ramon, Brendon,
Troy, Jason, Derek, Lucas, Scot, Dillon, Peter, Julio, Kip, Zach, Jake,  . .
.."

"OK, Bitch, OK.  I get the message," I said, as we both smiled at each other
and then burst out laughing.

A few evenings later, Matt and I had an interesting experience right after I
came home from school.  As I entered the apartment and shut the door behind
me, I saw Matt come out of his bedroom dressed in his complete football
uniform.  He mother had sent it to him, and it had arrived earlier that day.

He leaned against the wall with one arm and held his helmet with the other
arm.  He had on all the pads under the jersey and pants.  He was wearing the
socks and cleats.  But what really fucking turned me on like crazy were the
shiny gold pants that were laced in front and covered the cup.  They were so
fucking tight they hugged his legs and thighs and ass like a second skin.
Then Matt went too far and drove me absolutely crazy.  He turned to the
side, arched he back, stuck out his ass, and wiggled it at me.

"Like how your football player's ass looks in the pants, Babe?" he asked me,
with a huge fucking grin.

That was it.  I swooned, fainted, something I had never done before, and the
next thing I remember, I woke up in the hospital.  What I am about to tell
you was related by me later by Matt.

Matt rushed to me.  I was unconscious. I had hit my head on the way down on
the sharp corner of the end table next to the couch and had opened a 2" gash
on the back of my head.  Blood was gushing out everywhere.  Matt screamed at
me to wake up.  When I didn't, he panicked but had the presence of mind to
call 911.

The police arrive a few minutes later.  The police asked what had happened.
Matt told them that I had just arrived home from school, he had come out of
his bedroom to show me his uniform, and I had fallen to the floor and hit my
head.

They said they found it a little hard to believe him.  Why, they wanted to
know, was he modeling his uniform for me?  He said because I had told him I
wanted to see it.  (He didn't want to tell them it had to do with our sex
life because he didn't think it was any of their business, and he was right
about that.)

When they asked him why I would want to see his uniform, he told them it was
because I would be graduating in a few months, and we would probably never
see each other again.  They said they still found it unusual, but they'd
have to wait till they talked to me to decide what to do.

Then the ambulance arrived and took me to the hospital.  They were reluctant
at first to let Matt ride with them, but when he showed them my ring and
told them we were not only roommates but life partners, they reluctantly
gave in and decided to let him go along.

When they were done with me in ER, they took me to a private room.  I was
till unconscious.  Matt asked the doctor for information.  They refused to
give him any because he was not the next of kin.  He tried to explain were
we life partners.  He said such unions were not recognized in that state.

Matt called my parents.  He got my Mom and explained what happened.  He said
he'd put the doctor on the phone but said he didn't think it would be
serious enough for her to come.  Matt also asked her to tell the doctor it
was alright to let him give Matt information and let Matt stay in my room.

The doctor spoke with my mom and told her about my condition.  When they
were done talking, the doctor came to talk to Matt.  He told Matt that the
gash in my head was not serious and should heal fine.  But, he said, I had a
rather serious concussion, and would have to stay in the hospital a couple
of days.

He had told my mother that since my parents were so far away, and owing to
Matt's being so close to me, he thought Matt could take care of things OK.
However, if my condition changed, he was duty bound to notify my mother
himself and would do so.  He also said that as soon as I was conscious he
would have me call her.  He also told Matt he could stay with me provided
Matt not get in the way of the doctors or nurses and let me have the rest I
needed.

Matt was great for the next few days.  He was so sweet.  As soon as I
regained consciousness, he told me he felt so bad.  He asked me what had
happened.  At first I was so weak I told him I couldn't talk about it yet.

Then the police dropped by and wanted to discuss what had happened.  I also
told them that I felt too weak to discuss it with them.  They said they had
to ask me just one question and then they would leave.  They asked me
whether I felt safe having Matt in the room with me.  Matt and I were
completely shocked.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" I asked.  "This man means more to
me than life itself.  Are you fucking crazy?  Are you suggesting that you
think he may have had something to do with this?  Get out.  GET THE HELL
OUT!!"

The policeman left.

"Shhhh, Babe, shhhh.  You'll get yourself upset.  He's just doing his job,"
Matt said, trying to calm me down.

"I don't care," I answered him angrily.

"OK.  We'll talk about it later.  Relax now.  Get some rest.  I don't want
you to be upset.  Please calm done.  I love you."  He kissed me.

"I love you too.  OK.  I'll try to take a nap now."

"Good."

I went to sleep for awhile and felt better when I got up.  I still couldn't
believe or understand what was going through the policeman's head.  Awhile
later I asked Matt if he had an idea what was going on.  He told me not to
worry as I still might not be up to discussing it.  I said I felt a little
stronger.  He said OK and told me about the questioning he'd gone through
when the police first came the night it all happened.  I was starting to put
it all together.

The next day I was feeling better and was scheduled to go home, but the
police would not let me leave with Matt before they spoke with me.

"OK," I said, "let's get this over with."

In walked two policemen, an older one and a younger one.  The older one did
all the questioning.

"I'm sorry I upset you yesterday, Mr. Dawson, but I have to get your side of
the story to see how it compares with Mr. Sloan's before we can release you
to go home with him."

"I don't really see why that it necessary, officer, but let's get on with
it."

"Well, you see, Mr. Dawson, it's like this.  Due to Mr. Dawson's public
apology last December for his violent act that resulted in the punch to your
eye, it is generally known that he has a penchant for violence."

"But those circumstances were entirely different than these," I said.

"Yes, in many ways I would agree.  But frankly, Mr. Dawson, Mr. Sloan's
story seems unusual to me, so I must hear your side to corroborate his."

"Very well."

"OK, what happened, Mr. Dawson?"

"The night of the incident, I came home from school.  I opened the door.
Matt came out of his bedroom almost immediately, dressed in his football
uniform that he had worn in college, that is, in undergraduate school.  He
asked me how he looked in it.  I then fainted, hit my head on the end table,
and you know the rest."

"So, he never hit you?"

"Absolutely not!" I said.

"He never struck you with anything?"

"Absolutely not.  Like I told you, he was about 20' from me when I went
down."

"Well the one thing I still don't really understand, Mr. Dawson, is why Mr.
Sloan would want to show you his football uniform, and why you would want to
see it, and what would make you faint?  Especially since you don't have any
history of fainting spells."

"Well, uh . . . ."

"Yes, Mr. Dawson."

"Well, officer, that's, uh, kind of personal, and really isn't important."

"Well, Mr. Dawson, I'm afraid it is.  Mr. Sloan is suspected of being a
potential perpetrator of a violent act against you in this case.  I'd like
some assurance that it's safe for you to go back to your apartment with
him."

"I love Mr. Sloan, officer.  Don't you think that if he had done something
to me, after exhibiting the violent behavior he did last December, I'd be
sure that he got some anger management counseling?"

"That's all well and good, Mr. Dawson, but it still wouldn't obviate the
fact that he would have committed a crime a couple of days ago and should be
held accountable for that.  As a third-year law student, you are certainly
aware of that."

"Yes, officer, I am well aware of that.  I just don't like all this.  It's
delving into our privacy, which I resent."

"I understand, Mr. Dawson, but it's for your own good.  Besides, there's
nothing my partner and I haven't heard before, and I can assure you, it will
be kept confidential."

"All right, officer.  I hope you don't embarrass easily.  Here's the whole
story."

"I'm interested myself," Matt said.  "I still have no idea why you fainted."

"Matt and I are partners," I started telling the officer.  "We have a very
active sex life."

"Do you really have to go into all of this, Mr. Dawson?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, officer!  Do you want to fucking know, or not?"

"Alright, Mr. Dawson.  Go ahead."

"Then just shut up and listen."

"Alright."

"As I said, we enjoy each other frequently.  And since the end of the
semester is coming, and that means the end of our relationship is also
coming to an end, we are doing everything we can to get the most out of
every second that we have left together.

"Some months ago, I told Matt that I really got turned on by jocks and their
uniforms.  I knew that he had played college football.  So, one day, soon
after that, I came home, and he came out of his bedroom dressed in nothing
but shoulder pads, a short cut-off jersey, a cup, high white socks, and
black cleats.

"I completely lost it.  I had never before become so possessed by such
animal lust.  I growled at Matt to get the tube of lube.  While he did, I
dropped my pants.  He returned to me like a puppy dog.  I order him to lube
me up.  I commanded him to drop to the floor on all fours.  I got down and
entered him violently and had my way with him.

"It all happened so fast that I can barely remember it.  What I do remember
is that my orgasm was like no other I has ever before experienced.  I also
remember that I was totally selfish and didn't care at all for Matt's sexual
needs, which is completely unlike me.  Usually I am the exact opposite.

"What does this have to do with two nights ago, Mr. Dawson?" the officer
asked impatiently.

"I'm getting to that Officer," I responded, quite annoyed.  "You'll have to
be patient.  It'll all fit together."

"Then, two nights, ago," I continued, "I returned home to the apartment
after class.  Matt came out of his bedroom, but this time he was dressed in
his complete football uniform, including his helmet.  I was in heaven!  What
turned me on the most were the shiny, gold pants.  The laces in front drew a
line up and down the crotch, and they were so fucking tight around his
powerful legs, showing their muscles.  Jesus Christ!  As I said, I was in
fucking heaven!!  But then he turned sideways, arched his back, wiggled his
cute, tight ass at me and said, `Like how your football player's ass looks
in the pants, Babe?' and I lost it.  I went down like a ton of bricks."

"Oh, God, Lance!" Matt said, as his face turned beet red.  "I had no idea."

"Well, Mr. Sloan," the officer said.  "Seems like you left out a few details
in your story.  You never told us about your `football player's ass' comment
to Mr. Dawson."

"That's true, officer," Matt replied.  "That was a part of our private life
that, frankly, I didn't think was any business of yours.  Besides, I had no
idea till just a few seconds ago that it was relevant.  Had I known it was
relevant, I assure you I would have mentioned it.  However, Sfficer, let me
ask you this, when you arrived that night, and Mr. Dawson was lying
unconscious on the floor, and you, as you say, knew about my penchant for
violence, how likely would you have been to believe me if I had told you
that I had wiggled my ass at my Babe, asked him how he liked it, and he had
fainted?"

The officer was silent for a few seconds then spoke up.  "I have to admit,
Mr. Sloan, it's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

Everyone in the room started laughing.  Then, for the first time, the young
officer in the room spoke up.

"I don't know, Serge, you have to admit, he DOES have a cute ass."

"Chirst, all you gay guys are the same," said the older officer.  "All you
think about it sex, sex, sex."

The older policeman turned to walk out.  The younger one turned to walk
behind him, but on the way, he looked over at us, grabbed his crotch, licked
his lips, threw a kiss, and winked at us.  I winked back and threw a kiss.
Matt stood up and showed him his cute ass.  The younger policeman acted like
he was going to faint and gave a thumbs up sign.  Then we all three laughed
like hell.

"Christ, Babe," Matt asked me, after they were long gone, "was that all
true, or did you make it up?"

"Honest to God, Matt, your ass literally `floored' me the other night, no
pun intended.  And as soon as I get you home, I'm going to make you pay.
You're getting back in that fucking uniform, and I'm going to decide as I go
along just what to do with you."

"It'll be my pleasure, Dude."

"No, it'll be MY pleasure, Baby.  It may or may not be your pleasure.  We'll
just have to see."

A few hours later, I was released, and Matt took me home.  I called my Mom
to tell her I was back at the apartment and everything was fine.

"Get that fucking uniform on NOW, bitch!" I said.  "And after what I've been
through, you're going to be my slave, and it'll stay on the rest of today."

"Yes, Sir.  Whatever you say, Sir."

"Good.  That's how I like my men.  Tall, blond, blue-eyed, buff, ripped,
jock, uniformed, hung, tight, and most of all, obedient.  I think you'll do
just fine."

"Yes, Sir."

"And don't call me Sir."

"What do you want me to call you?"

"Come here," I ordered him.

"Just shut the fuck up," I said, and I pulled him down and kissed him
passionately on the lips.  He grinned from ear to ear.

"Hold on a second," he said, as he got up and left the room.  "I'll be right
back."

He returned a few minutes later dressed in his full football uniform.  He
had his helmet on too.  I told him I loved the helmet look, but I think he
should take it off for now.  Maybe later when I fucked him I'd have him put
it back on.  Then I noticed something I hadn't noticed before.

"You can't be serious," I told him.

"What?" he asked.

"That's a joke, right?"

"What?"

"Your number was really 69?"

"Yeah, no shit!  And boy was I teased about it.  Especially when it got
around that I was gay."

"That's hysterical!"

"You wouldn't think so if it had been you!"

"Come here, Babe.  Daddy will make it all better."

He approached me.  I unlaced his pants, moved his cup aside, and pulled his
cock out of its much too small confines.

"Oh, God, that feels good, Babe.  Thanks."

"My pleasure.  You're my hero, you know," I told him.

"How's that?"

"You called 911 and got me to the hospital after I fell."

"Big deal.  I made you fall in the first place."

"It's a story I'll be able to tell all my Babes the rest of my life," I
said.

"Let's please not talk about your future Babes.  It' makes me both angry and
sad to think about it."

"OK," I replied.  "How's this?"  I went down on him--deep.

"Ooooooooooh, God!  Yes.  That answer your question?" he responded.

"Uh huh," I managed to get out.

I sucked him till he came down my throat.  Then I replaced his cock into his
cup and laced his pants back up.

"Thanks, Dude," he said.  "Didn't really expect that."  I still got a kick
when he acted like suck a jock and called me "Dude."

"Sometimes a man's in the mood for a little cock, if you know what I mean,"
I told him.

"Yeah, I believe I'll have a big one sometime today, too."

"I believe you will, Babe."

"Let me fix us a little lunch for us now, OK?"

"Do you think we dare eat your cooking?"

"It's out of the microwave, bitch^Åuh^Åsorry, Babe."

"OK, I guess that's safe.  And `bitch' and other nasties are OK during sex,
just not in normal conversation.  I'd like to get a little more civil and
romantic for the rest of our time together, OK?"

"Yeah, I think I'd like that, too."

"Good.  Then let's eat, so I can take a nap with you."

We had a little lunch and then took a nap together.  I had Matt take off his
cleats, his pads, and his cup so he would be more comfortable.  When we woke
up I told him it was time he got back to studying and catch up on all his
course work.  He was certainly behind after all that had happened.  He said
not to worry about it.  Taking care of me was more important.

I told him that I was ordering him to call one of his classmates in every
one of his classes immediately to find out everything his missed.
Otherwise, I would let it be known at the school all that had happened the
past few days.  He said I wouldn't dare.  I said I would, and he would have
two more years to live it down whereas I had just a couple of months.  He
could tell I was serious, so he made the calls.

The rest of the day and evening we both studied to get caught up, while he
was still in his football uniform.  I ordered a pizza so neither of us had
to make dinner.  When it got late and time for bed, I told him to come to my
room to go to bed.  I was sitting there breathing out of his cup.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked.

"Smelling your odor, just like I used to do when we first met, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember.  I still think you're fucking nuts!"

"Take off those socks and give them to me."

"No!" he said.

"I didn't ask, Matt."

He unhappily complied.

"Yum yum," I said.

"That's disgusting!" he said.

"Baby, the senses of smell and taste are the best ones when it comes to sex
and pleasure, though touch is a close second.  You just haven't learned that
yet."

"I still say you're nuts."

"Lie down, Matt, please.  I want to look at you just a little longer in that
cute uniform while I give you pleasure."

"I thought I was supposed to give you pleasure today, Dude.  You're the one
that should get it, but you haven't let me do anything yet," he said.

"Oh, but you're wrong, so wrong.  Haven't you learned yet that what gives me
more pleasure than anything else in the world?"

"Fucking me in the ass?" he asked as he giggled.

"Well, that's definitely a close second," I admitted.

"Letting me fuck you in the ass then," he said laughing.

"Yes," but not for the reasons you think.

"Then what?  Stop playing games, Lance," he said.

"What gives me pleasure the most, Baby, is giving you pleasure.  More than
anything, I love to hear you moan and groan from the pleasure I give you,
watching you cum from a blow job or a hand job I am giving you, or even from
cooking you a delicious meal or from helping you pass a test or from the
gleam in your eye when you receive something I give you or from the way you
light up after I kiss you.  Whenever you get pleasure from something I do
for you, especially when it's totally unselfish and I'm not getting any
pleasure myself at the time, I get pleasure, more than from anything else."

"Geez, Lance, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything.  I want to give you some more pleasure
right now, in a way I've never given you pleasure before.  It will give me a
great deal of pleasure Babe.  What I will do may seem a little strange to
you at first, but if you relax and let yourself get into it, you will soon
see how great it feels.  Will you trust me?"

"Always, Babe, always."

"Good, then say goodbye to the football uniform.  You need to be totally
nude and lying on your back for this.  Close you eyes, Baby, relax, lie
still, and don't talk."

Matt stood up and got undressed.  I watched with mixed emotions.  I hated to
see the uniform come off, but I always enjoyed watching him undress.  He was
so fucking gorgeous.  After he lay back down, I got to work.

I started kissing him gently on the lips, and then on the ears and behind
them.  Then I started kissing him all over his face, especially on his eye
lids and forehead.  Then I started licking his neck, down his chest, on to
his nipples, where I stayed awhile, and then to his pits, where he jerked a
bit, something I anticipated.  But he managed to keep his promise and not
talk.

Then I slowly licked down his chest and his sides and in his navel.  This
tickled, so I showed mercy and didn't stay there too long.  I agonizingly
slowly moved my tongue from his navel toward his crotch.  He started
moaning.  I went to either side to make it last even longer.  I surprised
him and avoided his cock and balls.  I went to his right leg and licked and
kissed it all over, up and down, and into the crotch area, where it is
really sensitive.  He flinched a little.  I went further down past the knee.
  Then I switched to the other side and did the same.

I switched back and resumed below the knee where I had left off.  I licked
toward the foot.  When I arrived at the foot, I spend a lot of time on the
ankle and the top of the foot because it was big, just like I like them.
Matt was starting to get very turned on.  He was squirming.  I started to
lick above his heel.  He was dying.  I licked the bottom of his foot ever so
lightly because I knew he was ticklish, but he couldn't tolerate it, so I
didn't do it long.

"You don't want me to do the bottoms of your feet do you?  You can answer
that one question."

"No.  It's too fucking ticklish there.  I'm sorry."

"It's OK, Baby.  I'm trying to give you pleasure here.  Not put you through
agony."  He smiled and mouthed the word "Thanks."

I then started licking his toes.  At first he flinched.

"Easy, Baby.  This is important.  Try to relax.  You can do this.  You've
just got to experience this.  It's great.  Trust me."

He bit his lower lip and nodded.  I almost got tears in my eyes thinking
about how much he was willing to trust me.  I went back to licking his toes.
  Soon, I put his pinky toe into my mouth and started sucking on it while I
licked it all over with my tongue.  He started to moan very audibly.  I
moved to the next toe and spent a while on it, then to the next one, then to
the next one.  I then hesitated.  The large one was left.  We both knew it.
When was I going to put it in my mouth?  Only I knew.  He didn't.  He was in
agony.  That was what I wanted, and he knew it.

Finally, I teased the big one with the tip of my tongue just a little.  He
couldn't stand it any longer.

"Put it in your God damn mouth and suck it already!  FUCK!!"

I didn't answer.  I just did as he commanded me.  After awhile of sucking
hard on that toe, I started putting combinations of toes in my mouth.
Eventually, I got all five of them in my mouth.  He just about lost it then.
  He was breathing so heavy I was afraid he was going to pass out.

I stopped for a few minutes to let him calm down.  Then I started the same
process on the other leg, foot, and toes.

"Oh, fuck.  I forgot there was another side," he moaned.  "Christ, I don't
know if I can take it again, Lance.  It's sooooo good!"

I ignored him and went through the process again.  Although he knew what was
coming this time, I did it somewhat differently and in a different order
just to confuse him.  This drove him nuts.  At one point he tried to put his
hand on his erect cock to jerk off.  I slapped it away.  He moaned and cried
like a baby acting like I was trying to torture him.

"Concentrate on where I'm touching and licking and sucking you, Babe, not on
your cock.  Your cock is not the only place on your body that can give you
pleasure."  He whimpered, but he complied.

Finally, as I finished with Matt's second set of toes, he had managed to do
what I had suggested: he had concentrated all of his thoughts on what I was
doing and had thought about nothing else.  As a result, he experienced a
Tantric climax, a powerful sensation similar to an orgasm but which can be
quite intense and, if practiced, can last up to hours.

In Matt's case, however, he was unaware what was happening to him and was
totally inexperienced with it.  Therefore, he sustained it for only a couple
of minutes.  Nevertheless, to feel like you're in the middle of an orgasm
for 2 or 3 minutes is an incredible feeling that most people in western
cultures are completely unfamiliar with and indeed never have the pleasure
of experiencing.

Matt was therefore completely shocked at what was happening to him and
overwhelmingly elated as it was happening to him.  I just watched him with
joy as he experienced a Tantric climax for the first time in his life.  He
eyes lit up.

"God, Lance.  I hope this feeling never ends!  What's happening to me?
How'd you do it?  It's fucking unbelievable!  It's like I've started to cum,
and I'm stuck in the middle of shooting a load.  Please, please.  Find a way
to keep me like this forever!"

This is the typical reaction to a Tantric climax.  The first time I
experienced a Tantric climax, I was being masturbated.  When the climax
started, I begged my partner to keep doing exactly what he was doing and not
to stop NO MATTER WHAT!  I had not yet started to shoot my load.  It was
like time had stopped just a couple of seconds before the shooting started,
just when that feeling of ecstasy starts.  I was frozen there for 5 full
minutes.  This is absolutely no exaggeration.  All I could think of over and
over was that I never wanted it to end.  It was the most incredible
experience of my life.

"Great, isn't it, Babe?" I asked him.  "I'm so pleased I got you there.  It
means more to me than getting there myself.  You're like a little puppy dog
with a new toy!"

Finally, the Tantric orgasm had ended.

"Oh, shit, Lance.  It's over."

"Nothing lasts forever, Babe.  Sorry."

"That was fantastic!  Come here, Baby," he said.

Matt took me in his arms and kissed me passionately.

"Please let me do something for you.  Please!"

"You already have.  Just get your beautiful strong body behind me and hold
me tight, like always, and let's go to sleep.  We've got to get to class on
time tomorrow morning."

"You've got it, Dude.  I love you so much, Lance."

"Couldn't be half as much as I do you."

He didn't answer.  He was already asleep--my beautiful football player.

Comments are always welcome
Lance: lance.dawson@hotmail.com