Date: Fri, 31 Jan 2003 03:42:21 -0800 (PST)
From: Tim Mead <timmead88@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dr. Tim and the Boys, ch. 11

The following story is fiction.  It involves sexually
explicit erotic events between males.  If you are offended
by such material, are too young, or live in an area where it
is not allowed, don't read it.

In the world of this story, the characters don't always use
condoms.  In the real world, everyone should practice safe
sex.

The author retains all rights.  No reproduction or links to
other sites are allowed without the author's consent.

If you've read this far, you know that Tom W. is not only
my editor but that he has occasionally written portions of the
story.  I'm happy to tell you that Tom has just posted the first
chapter of his story, "The TNT Files," in the Adult Friends
section of NIfty.  You should definitely give it a look.  It's
a different kind of story, told mostly through a series of emails.
OH, and shall I give you a little hint?  TNT = Tom n Tim.

It's a pleasure to thank Evan, Patrick, Ash, Tom W. and Mickey for
the great "writerly dialogue" we have going on.  Overdue
thanks go also to Mike and Tom J. for reading these chapters
so carefully and making helpful comments.

Timmead88@Yahoo.com
Chapter 11:  More Therapy?

Following their new custom, Ced and Trey had gone to the
University snack bar for coffee after their lit class.  They
were sitting apart, chatting.

"Ced, about this summer.  Are you going to be in your dad's
law office again?" Trey asked.

"Yeah, man.  It's fuckin' slave labor.  I'm not qualified to
be a law clerk yet, so I'm really just a damned gopher."

"You didn't seem to mind too much last summer."

"I didn't have Tim last summer.  He's going to be here,
teaching.  We'll only be able to get together for weekends.
I wanted to stay here and take his course.  It's the "Lost
Generation" course that he's never gotten to teach before.
But my old man said he needed me at home, so I'll be in
Shaker during the week."

"Bummer."

"What about you, Tiger?  You going back home?"

"No," Trey said, smiling, "I'm staying here and taking two
courses, one in management, and the other, I've just
decided, will be Tim's course."

Ced stared at Trey, trying to look menacing and failing
completely, "You better keep your hands off Timmy, man, or
you and me, we'll have SERIOUS issues!"

Trey smiled.  "Relax, Ced.  I know he's yours.  I'll just
keep an eye on him for you, see that he isn't seduced by
some good-looking guy.  Or chick."

Mollified, Ced smiled and said, "OK, I'll count on you to do
that.  And maybe we can get together some weekends.  I'll be
coming here for most of them, though I think my folks would
be cool if I brought Tim home.  I just don't know whether
he's ready for that or not."

"Somehow, you two will manage.  And it will be great to see
you, studly, anytime you're in town."

"Trey," his friend asked, "what about our tall buddy?  Is he
still being moody?"

"Well, he and I have cleared some things up.  It was hard
for him to swallow that I'm bi, for one thing."

When Ced broke up, Trey realized what he had said and joined
in the laughter.

"OK, you know what I meant.  It was a surprise, to say the
least.  Then he also told me that he thought I had betrayed
him when I let Tim fuck me and pretended I didn't want him
to."

"I guess I can see all that."  He paused.  "Are you two
square now?"

"Well, I apologized, and he says it's OK.  He got used to
the idea that you're gay, so he said he reckoned he could
get used to me being the way I am."

"Cool."

"Yeah, but something's still eating at him.  I can see it
when he doesn't think I'm looking.  Something in his eyes.
His smile doesn't have the old orneriness.  And I hate to
see him troubled.  Chaz isn't much of a deep thinker, as you
know, and he told me the other night he's not used to
worrying about things."

"So," replied Ced, grinning at his friend, "being the good
buddy that you are, you are going to get to the bottom of
this, aren't you?"

"Yup."

"OK, Ann Landers, whatchu gonna do?" Ced asked, still
grinning.

"I'm just going to wait until the time seems right and ask
him what the hell is bothering him."

"Good luck.  I hope that works out.  I imagine it's hard to
know your best friend is hurting and not be able to help
him."

"Yeah, it's frustrating.  I'm not going to wait around much
longer to ask him about it."

"As I said, good luck.  You have a match this afternoon,
don't you?"

"Yup," Trey replied, "and you guys are away somewhere,
right?"

"Yeah, we're playing O.U. in Athens, so we'll be pretty late
getting back.  I told Tim I wouldn't see him until sometime
tomorrow.  I'll just want to get home and crash, probably.
But listen, man, I've got an idea for something you and I
could pull on Tim.  You interested?" Ced asked with a wicked
gleam in his eye.

"You know it," Trey answered, smiling at the thought.

"Here's what we'll do the next time the class meets."  He
explained his scheme to Trey, who loved it.  They both stood
up and high-fived.

"Sounds like a plan, Ced," Trey said.  "Good luck in your
game.  Tell Mark I said to whup the Bobcats!"
"Will do, and good luck in your sets this afternoon, Tiger."
The two parted to go about their business for the rest of
the day.


                   *          *          *
                            TREY:
Our match that afternoon was with Bowling Green.  I won my
sets, and our team narrowly won the whole thing.  Chaz and
Tim both showed up separately, but they wound up sitting
together.  I took that as a good sign.  Ced and Mark, of
course, weren't around.
Chaz came up to me when everything was over.  We high-fived.
"Righteous dude!" he said.  "Tennis ain't all that much of a
sport, but you done good, buddy."
"It takes a lot more skill than that kids' game you play,
hoss," I said.
He smiled his lop-sided smile and said, "You want to go chow
someplace?  Or, we've got some of that stew we made the
other day if you'd rather just eat at the place."
"I think it would be great just to relax at home this
evening."
He smiled again.  "OK.  I think we still have some rolls in
the freezer.  I'll go get that started while you wash off
all that fancy sweat you tennis dudes work up.  Behave
yourself in the showers, now."
Giving him the finger, I headed for the locker room.  I
really loved that guy.  He and I had cleared the air the
other day about a lot of things.  He still seemed moody
sometimes, though.  I didn't know what was eating him, but I
was determined to find out.  The semester would be over
soon, and I didn't want him to leave for the summer without
everything being OK between us.
At least I didn't have to dread going into the locker room
so far as my pubes were concerned.  The other guys on the
team knew the story about the lost bet.  I still looked
funny, though.  My body hair is so light that it hardly
shows, so, even though it was beginning to grow back - and
to itch like the devil - it was still hard to see.
Stripping off my sweaty whites, I went into the shower room.
The place was full of guys, all talking at once about their
sets.  "Well done, Trey," my teammate Raul said.
"Thanks, Raul.  Sorry you had such a tough time with
Pedersen.  You almost had him."
"Hey, amigo, what is it you say?  A `miss is as good as a
mile'?  `Almost' isn't good enough."
"OK, then, buddy, how about `wait `til next time'?"
Raul smiled, his teeth brilliant white against his deeply-
tanned skin.  His lips were full and sort of pouty.  He was
a little taller than me, a little thinner, his body hairy
all over.  He had an ass I'd love to munch on.  And, unlike
most of us on the team, he had this mop of curly black hair
that stood out from his head all over sort of like a loose
afro.  His brilliant black eyes always sparkled as if he
were plotting something wicked but fun.

I tried not to look.  When I'm in the showers I have to work
very hard not to look at anybody, so I look at the shower
head, the soap, the ceiling, the freakin' wall.  You know.
If I look at the guys or even think about where I am, I get
a damned woody.  And Raul seemed just dangerous enough to be
especially sexy.

I was lucky this time.  I began to worry about what was
bothering Chaz and managed to keep my cock from misbehaving.

I toweled off quickly, dressed, and walked the few blocks
back to the apartment.

Chaz had the table set, the stew heating on the back of the
range, and the rolls ready to put in the oven when I got
there.

"Damn, dude," I said, "you'd make somebody a good wife!"

"Watch it, little man.  I can make you sorry you said that."

"How, by overcooking the stew?" I asked backing up as I said
it.

He took one long stride, put his arm around my head, and
gave me a noogie.

"Gotta say `uncle,' lil dude."

"You're the only guy I'd let call me that.  Besides, Tim's
the little dude, isn't he?

"He's a REAL little dude, that's for sure," Chaz said,
releasing my head.

"I never said `uncle,' you know."

"Well, I wouldn't wanna overcook the stew."

While the rolls heated, I got out tumblers.  Chaz had a
beer, I had water.

"I was a little surprised when I looked over and saw you
sitting with Tim," I said.

"I don't THINK so.  He was sitting with me.  I got to my
regular spot a little before your first set, and a few
minutes later he came over and asked if he could sit with
me."

"So, how'd that go?"

He chewed for a moment, took a swallow of beer, and said
"You know, I guess he's OK.  Turns out he likes to play
tennis, `recreationally,' I think is what he said."  Then he
brightened and said, "And we discovered we're both from the
southern part of the state."

"He's from near Cincinnati?" I asked.

"Nah, dude, he lives a hundred miles from me, I
suppose. But we both live near the river.  He's
from Belpre, just south of Marietta.  Do you
know where that is?"

"Yeah, I go past Marietta sometimes when I take
I-77 going home instead of the Turnpikes."

"Yup.  Well, that's right near Mead's home
town."  He paused.  Then, looking thoughtful,
"You know, he talked to me like I was an old
friend."

"Charles," I said in an exasperated tone, "what
did you expect?  Tim thinks of the four of us as
friends now.  He's
really gotten past all that stuff we did.  We
may not be old friends, but we're Ced's friends,
so Tim accepts the rest of us as part of the
package."

He grinned and said, "I should have known you'd
get the conversation around to packages."

"Bastard," I said laughing.  I threw a roll at
him.  He didn't even duck.  It hit him in the
forehead and fell into his stew.  He picked it
up and began to lick the gravy off of it.  A
shiver went over me as I watched his tongue as
he slurped the gravy and then ate the roll.
Trying to get my mind back to what we were
talking about, I said, "You know what I mean.  I
think as far as Tim is concerned everything is
forgiven.  He wants us to put all that shit
behind us and be good friends."

"Well, ya know, he was easy enough to talk to.
He asked which high school I had gone to and
about my basketball and all that.  Then he asked
what I was doing this summer."

"Chaz, buddy, you haven't told ME what you're
doing this summer."

"Oh, I just got the letter this morning.  I have

the same job I had last year."

"You mean working as a counselor in a day camp?"

"Yeah, the City of Cincinnati runs it."

"Cool."

"And, I can pick up a little extra cash washing
cars at my dad's dealership."


"Evenings and weekends, I know you're going to
cut a wide swath through the female population
of Cincinnati."


He looked troubled, said "Right," in a
noncommittal way, and took a pull on his beer.


When he finished, Chaz put his fork and knife in
his plate, leaned back, and asked, "What you got
on for this evening?"


"Well, I have some reading I SHOULD be doing,
but nothing important, why?"


"Just wondering."  There it was again.  He
seemed to have something on his mind, something
he didn't quite know how to bring up.

I sopped up a little gravy with the last piece
of roll. Chaz and I had become pretty good
cooks, though we wouldn't want just anyone to
know that.

Redding up, we didn't say much, just working
quickly, as two people will do who have done
this chore hundreds of times.

"Chaz," I said, nudging him with my hip, "we're
getting to be like an old married couple."

"Don't go there, dude," he said seriously.

"Hey, man, just kiddin'."  Then I had a thought.
"What do you have goin' on this evening?"

"Thought I'd veg out, watch some tv.  You game?"

"Yeah, let me read for about an hour, and we'll
see what's on the tube."

My assignment for Tim's class was a weird play
about a European diplomat in Beijing during the
Viet Nam era who was fucking a guy for two years
thinking it was a woman.  When I was done, I
wandered back into the living room where Chaz
was watching Saturday Night Live reruns on
Comedy Central. He had no drink beside him, so I
went into the kitchen and got a couple of
Heinekens.  Handing him the green bottle, I sat
down beside him on the sofa.  We watched the
program for a while, sipping our beers.  I
wanted him to loosen up a little.  As hard-nosed
as he can be, my buddy is not a mean drunk.  He
tends to get more and more mellow as he drinks.
I thought that if he got mellow enough, he might
tell me what had been eating at him.

I like SNL, but I had trouble concentrating on
it that evening.  I was determined to get to the
bottom of Chaz's moodiness.  I thought our
earlier talk had cleared the air. But something
was still bothering him.  I wanted to help him
get past it if I could, whatever it was, and I
needed to know it wasn't something I had done.
He had SEEMED OK with the news that I have a gay
side.  But maybe he really wasn't.  Maybe he
could accept that Ced is gay but couldn't be
easy with me, once he knew.  I had moved pretty
far along in the process of accepting myself,
but I still had a lot of sorting out to do.  It
would be understandable that Chaz was still
having some problems with his best buddy and
roommate being bisexual.

So an hour passed.  Chaz routinely sipped his
beer and focused on the television.  He'd look
over at me once in a while to see if I was
digging the comedy, and then he'd smile his
wonderful lop-sided smile.  I loved him so much
when he did that.

Finally, I'd had all the comedy I could stand.
"Chaz, buddy, shut that thing off.  We gotta
talk."

He took the remote and clicked off the tv.

"What's up?" he asked.  He turned toward me,
pulling one leg up on the sofa as he did.

You know, my palms were sweating.  I wanted to
handle this right, and I wasn't sure what to do
or say.  My mouth was dry, so I took a long pull
on my beer, which had gotten warm
while it was sitting there.  (Chaz had had a

couple as we watched tv.)

"OK," he said.  "We're talkin'.  What IS it?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yeah.  Something's wrong.  I don't know what it
is, but I can read you well enough to know
something's on your mind. And it must be bad if
you won't tell me about it."  I turned to face
him, pulling my legs up to sit Indian fashion on
the sofa.


"You think something's wrong?"


"Chaz, dammit, don't do this to me!"  I didn't
know whether to whup him upside the head or jump
his bones.  Either one would have felt good at
that moment.


He bristled for a minute.  Then his look
softened.  He said, "You're right, buddy, and I,
well, you know, it's great that you have picked
up that something's bothering me.  But, dude,
it's not anything I can talk about."


I looked directly into those pale blue eyes.
"Tell me straight, man.  Is it because I'm gay?"


He actually reached over and ruffled my hair!
Bad-ass Chaz. Then he said, "Nah, dude.  This
ain't got nothing to do with YOU bein' gay."


"Ced, then?  Or Tim?  Come on, Chaz, you know
you need to talk to me.  Why not just come on
out with it?"


He snickered, and then became serious again.  "I
swear, Trey dude, I think it's contagious."


"You've picked up an STD?"


He smiled again, but there was more sadness than
happiness in that smile.  "Little brother, you
still don't have a clue, do you?"  Before I
could answer, he continued.  "You were closer
than you knew when you said I should `come on
OUT with it'."


Oh!  Oh? No!  Not macho-jock Chaz!  I couldn't
believe it. Was he saying what I thought he was?
I stared at those sexy light blue eyes, and they
stared right back.  The skin around his eyes
crinkled a little as he said, "You look zapped,
buddy.  You really didn't have a clue, did you?"


"No, I didn't.  So you've been going through
hell trying to deal with it?"


"Got it in one try, babe."


"Look, I don't want to pry, but if you'd like to
talk about it, you know you're my best friend.
I think I understand some of what's been going
through your mind.  If it would help to get
anything off your chest, I'm here.  If not now,
later.  But you need to tell somebody, man, or
you'll explode."


"Chill, Trey.  It's taken me a while to admit to
myself what
these urges mean.  My mind has been SO fucked
up!  But I decided after we got things straight
and clear between us the other night that I
really needed to talk to you about this stuff.
I've just sort of been waitin' till the time was
right."

I wanted to put my arms around him and say,
"It's OK, babe." Instead I just smiled.

His eyes seemed to go out of focus, as if he was

looking inside himself.  "So fucked up," he

said.

"OK if I ask a question?"

"Sure."

"How long have you been . . ., I mean, when did

. . ."

"It's OK, dude.  It all started with the Tim
thing.  You know I was really pissed when I
heard about that midterm F he gave Ced.  And I
cooked up all this revenge stuff because I
wanted to hit back at the bastard who did that
to our buddy.  I didn't get the idea of making
him suck us or take it up the ass until after
that first night in his office."


He looked at me.


"Yeah, I remember," I said.


"But after I saw him then, I thought up the rest
of it, uh, you know, the stuff we did to him the
next two nights."


"Yeah," I said.


"Dude, I'd never been sucked off by a guy until
Tim did it. I've NEVER had my dick up someone's
ass.  But I had heard those stories about some
of the frats making one of the pledges a sex
slave.  I thought that'd be cool.  We'd really
make the cocksucker pay."  He chuckled.  "We'd
make him into a cocksucker.  And the idea of
having someone around to give us blow jobs or
let us fuck him when the women weren't putting
out sounded fantastic . . . at the time."


He looked at me to see if I was following him.
I nodded at him encouragingly.


"But nothing went the way I'd planned.  The
third night, Saturday, I began to feel sorry for
the little fucker.
Worse than that, a couple of times, I couldn't
help myself, I put my hand on him like I wanted
to comfort him."

"I didn't notice that."

"Yeah, well, I kept up the hard-ass act.  And,
man, it was a rush having the little guy suck my
cock.  I was liking it too much, if you know
what I mean."

I smiled.  I knew what he meant.

"While I was watching you fuck him, I got this
big old boner.  Like, I had just come, but I got
hard again watching you two."

"You horn dawg, you," I said, grinning.

He smiled a tight little smile and went on.
"We've already
talked about how I thought you had sort of . . .
betrayed me when you let Tim fuck you in front
of me the next weekend. What I didn't tell you
was I had this other feeling along with my
anger.  I was jealous!  I got a boner again,
watching him do you.  Right then I wasn't sure
why.  But looking back, buddy, I was jealous.  I
didn't like to see my best friend getting fucked
by Mead, even though I figured out my best
friend had agreed to it.  Hell, my best friend
was enjoying it.  You couldn't keep that off
your face, you know."

"I don't know what to say, Chaz."

"Shaddup," he said, grinning.  "This is MY
story."  He seemed to be trying to decide where
to go next.  Then he looked troubled again.
"You remember the night Mark got his payback?"

I had to laugh, thinking back on that evening.
"I sure do," I said.

Chaz smiled.  "Well, watching Markie get
undressed and stand there bare-assed while Tim
was talking about how sexy he thought Mark was -
all that gave me another major woodie. Then,
when Tim stuck that damned flower in Mark's ass,
I was laughing like the rest of you guys, but I
damn jizzed in my pants!"

I laughed again.  "Me, too, brother, me too."

He quit smiling.  Once more he seemed to be
struggling inside himself.  I knew to just wait
and let him go on when he was ready.

Chaz got up, picked up our long-empty bottles
and went to the kitchen.  He returned with two
cold beers, handing one to me.

He sat again on the other end of the sofa.  He
took a couple of big swallows of beer and set
the bottle on the coffee table.  He belched,
then took a deep breath.

Not looking at me, he said, "Trey, this is the
hardest part, buddy."

I was trying to think of something encouraging
but not pushy to say when he solved my problem
by continuing.

"The other night when I got mad at you and
left?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I walked around, passed a bar called `The
Mermaid,' a place I'd never been in before.  Do
you know it?"

"I've been there once or twice.  Not my kind of
crowd."

"Yeah.  Well, I went in and had a Jack Daniels.
To tell the truth, I had several.  Got a nice
buzz on."

"And?"  I had no idea what he was going to tell
me.

"I was looking around the bar, and suddenly had
this -- I guess you'd call it a vision.  I sort
of flashed on a picture of you, naked, between
Ced and Tim!"

"Wow! Wonder what brought that on?"

"Man, this is really awkward.  I don't want you
to get the wrong idea.  I'm not coming on to you
or anything.  But let me tell you one more
thing, and I'll shut up."

"Chaz, you can tell me anything.  You know
that!"

"OK.  Is this weird or what?  I picked up this
girl, Sue-Ann was her name.  She said she's a
friend of Jen's.  Do you know her?"

"Not to talk to.  But I know who she is.  She's
hot.  And she drives a nice convertible.  You
picked her up?"

"Well, since this is my night to let it all hang

out, I think she picked me up.  Anyway, we went

to her place and you can figure out what

happened.  Except that, oh jeez, I can't believe

I'm telling you this."

"Chaz, man, don't leave me hanging.  What in

hell happened?" "OK, she's on her hands and

knees on the bed, see?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling and beginning to get a

little hard. "So she's looking back over her

shoulder at me, waiting for me to put it in."

"Yeah," I said, getting a little harder.

"For a minute --  Oh, God, Trey!" "Chaz, you big

oaf, TELL ME!"

"For a minute it was you there, naked, on your
hands and knees, offering me your ass and
looking over your shoulder at me!"


Hot damn!  Who'd a thunk?  My hunky roomie has
been having gay urges and fantasizing about me.
What in hell was I supposed to say about that?
I had to say something fairly quickly.  I wanted
to grab him and kiss him, but I knew that would
be the wrong thing to do.  `Think of HIS
feelings, you dummy,' something inside me said.


"Babe, you're pretty popular - and successful -
with the chicks on campus.  And now you have had
some gay fantasies. I know how fucked up in the
head you are feeling.  I've been there, you
know."


Those pale eyes were looking intently at me
again.  "Yeah," he said.  "I guess you have."


"So it's nothing to be ashamed of.  You are who
you are: Charles Greeley, popular campus stud,
varsity basketball player, and my best friend.
Nothing you've told me will change any of that -
- unless you decide to change it."


"I keep thinking about how I was brought up.
I've always been cool with Ced being gay.  But I
still tend to think in terms of fags and queers
and homos and cocksuckers.  Now, before you jump
on me, you guys have educated me to know those
are bad words, that they are put-down words.
But they are there, sort of planted in my brain.
You know?"


"Of course.  They get planted in everybody's
brain, unfortunately."
"Then you know how scary all of this is for me.
I've admitted to myself for the first time that
sometimes guys turn me on.  Even you, you runt!"
he said popping me on the shoulder.
"All I'm saying is that you should try to be
comfortable with it.  There's not a thing wrong
with those fantasies. You don't have to act on
them.  Unless you want to.  Nothing in your life
has to change.  And maybe you'll be a little
easier with yourself now that you've recognized
everything and admitted it to yourself."
"Brother, I feel easier because I've been able
to tell you." He smiled his sweet goofy, lop-
sided smile and said, "Thanks, Henry Lee!"
At that moment I wanted to give the rebel yell
and ride him into the night.  All I did was say,
"That's what best friends are for, you know."
He picked up his beer, took a big swig, and set
it down. "Trey, uh, oh shit, this is not easy."
"Just say it, babe."
"Could I have a hug?"
I scooted toward him on the sofa.  He moved
toward me.  He put both his long arms around me,
pinning mine.  He pulled me against his chest
and just held me there.  Then he put the side of
his face against the top of my head.  He smelled
so fuckin' good, a mixture of skin, a little
sweat, and a hint of his Tommy cologne.  I just
wanted to eat him up.
I don't know how long we stayed like that.  Not
long enough. At last he let me go, stood up,
smiled sweetly, and said, "I'm gonna fold.  Your
turn to take the bottles to the kitchen.  And,
Trey, thanks babe."
"Dufus," I said, "you've already thanked me more
than enough."
He nodded and went down the hall toward the
bedrooms.  I put the bottles in the kitchen
trashcan, turned out the lights, and went to my
own room.  My head was full of visions of Chaz
as I beat off that night.  The one that kept
coming back was of me, naked, on my hands and
knees, looking back at Chaz, impatient for him
to plant his big cock in my butt.
                   *          *          *
                      TIM:
We were scheduled to discuss David Henry Hwang's
play, "M. Butterfly."  I hadn't taught it before
and was looking forward to it.  It has a variety
of themes, among them interesting perspectives
on the Viet Nam war and, most importantly,
differences between Eastern and Western views of
life.  Lots of good stuff there to think about
and talk about.  But nothing went as planned.
I might have saved the situation if everything
else had been normal.  But Ced and Trey saw to
it that the whole period
was a fiasco.

The room we were assigned for that class has the
door in the front.  The college animal being
what it is, the seats in the rear tended to fill
up first.  Latecomers had to sit in the front
row.  So who came late that day?  The two
partners in crime.

They got there just as I was silently checking
the roll, sitting at my desk.  They created a
bit of a stir.  Both were wearing very short
cutoffs and mesh tank tops, the kind that
stopped just above their navels.  I could
clearly see their nips through the mesh.  They
both looked cheap.  I've never seen a male
prostitute that I know of, but that's what came
to mind when I saw them in those get-ups.
Junior, however, was of another opinion, and
began to swell instantly.

When I finished with the roll, I stood up to
begin the discussion.    I looked at them and
said, "It's not like you two to be late.  Is
everything OK?"  I didn't mention how out of
character it was for them to be dressed that
way. They might have lost a bet or something,
and I didn't want to embarrass them.  More fool
I!

Ced looked at me, smiled angelically, and
answered, "Oh, yes, Dr. Mead.  Everything is
fine.  And we weren't late, were we?  We got
here before you finished with the roll." Then he
looked at me and very deliberately licked his
lips, upper and lower, making a full circle with
his tongue.  Trey obviously knew what Ced was
doing, though no one else in the class did.
There were a few gasps that Cedric, of all
people, would give me such a cheeky answer.

I ignored that, stood up, and began asking some
leading questions, things designed to get the
discussion started. First off, most members of
the class sailed by all the really important
ideas to zero in on how Gallimard, the main
character, could have been fucking Song for two
years without knowing that "she" was a man.
Some of the women in the class hinted at the
problem.  Finally, however, a kind of a smartass
who usually sat in the back and pretended he
wasn't listening, held up his hand.

"Steve, you have something to say?"

"Yeah. How could this French guy keep on fuckin'
the Chinese guy and not know he was a guy?"

"I have to suppose because they were having anal
intercourse."

"So," Steve continued, "he's screwing this guy
for two years and never discovers the guy's got
balls and a dick?"

Well, that brought the house down.  I tried as
best I could to remind them that the play was
based on a true story and that we just had to
believe that Song fooled Gallimard somehow.
Then I tried to get the discussion onto other,
more important issues in the play.

The first time I looked over at the guys,
however, they were sitting with their legs wide
apart, slowly moving them together and then
apart again.  It was pretty obvious that they
were freeballing.  Whenever I looked, they'd
smile or wink and lick their lips.

Trey, who was sitting to my extreme left, had
swiveled a little toward me, the better, I
suppose, to give me the full benefit of his
cutoffs.  He began to gently rub his right
nipple.  I'm sure no one saw him but me.  His
eyes were half closed as he looked seductive and
rubbed that tit, still licking his lips.

My cock, of course, began to fill - and leak.  I
shot him what I hoped was a stern glance, but he
wasn't looking at my face.  He was staring at
the growing bulge in my pants.

I turned away from them and tried to continue
moderating what was turning into a lively
discussion, finally, of EastWest differences,
which everyone seemed to be interested in. I put
my hands in my pockets to try to hide what was
happening there.

Then Ced cleared his throat.  I glanced over at
him to see if he wanted to say something.  He
didn't.  My lover, the bastard, was just trying
to get my attention.  Although no one could see
it except Trey and me, Ced had a hard-on, and
he'd hiked his shorts up toward his crotch so
that a good two inches of his cock was sticking
out the right leg.  My dick was by now rock
hard, and I could feel it oozing precum.  I
quickly sat down behind my desk.

"Are you OK, Dr. Mead?" Trey asked.

I wasn't OK.  I felt light-headed, in fact.  But
I made an effort of will and said, rather
coldly, "I'm fine, Trey, thank you."

"Well, professor, it's not like you to sit while
we're having a discussion."  As he said that, he
had his hands in his pockets and was slowly
rubbing his own tool.

"I think I can manage things fine from here,
Trey.  Unless, of course, you'd like to stand up
here and lead the discussion."  Actually,
because of my height, I have always preferred to
stand in class.  Seated, I can't see faces in
the back rows.

Trey looked at me, nothing but innocence in
those sexy hazel eyes.  "Oh, no, professor, you
go right ahead."

"How about you, Cedric, would you like to come
up and moderate things for us?" I asked, looking
pointedly at his lap.

"Do you think I should, Dr. Mead?" he asked,
smiling seductively, his black eyes sparkling,
and wiggling in his seat a little bit, just
enough to call my attention to HIS boner.

"If you don't want to help us out, I suggest you
let the rest of us get back to the play."

He opened his eyes wide, held up both hands, and
said, "Oh, don't let me stop you."

So the rest of the class, who were looking
pretty puzzled over the whole exchange, and I
began to talk once more.  The discussion got
onto the glimpses the play gives us of Chinese
policy during the Viet Nam war.  But the two
rats to my left never let up.  I didn't dare
look at them, for every
time I did, they were rubbing themselves, doing
wonderfully obscene things that only I could
see.  My cock stayed leaky and hard the whole
period.
When it was time to dismiss the class, I said,
"Withers and Jones, I'd like to talk with you
two for just a moment."  I don't think they had
realized that they needed to let their dicks
subside before they stood up.
After the rest of the class had left, I looked
into my lap and saw that I had a problem.  A
familiar problem.  There was a stain in the
front of my khakis.  The guys couldn't see it,
of course, because of the desk.  But when I
looked down, they must have known what happened,
for they were both sitting there cracking up.
"OK, you jokers," I said.  "I've got a long
memory, and you'd better believe that I WILL get
you for this.  Now, go get your coffee, and I'll
see you later.  Oh, and I'm surprised you two
would wear anything that tacky, even to pull a
prank on me."
"We did get some choice comments about these
outfits on our way to class," Trey said,
chuckling.
"What about you, Tim," Ced asked.  "Don't you
want to COME have coffee with us?"
"No, smartass, I don't.  I have to try to get
home and change my pants before my next class."
"What's the matter, Tim?" Trey asked.   "You
can't control your emissions?  Must be you
aren't getting any!"
"Now there's a statement worthy of your
roommate, Withers," I said.  "Ask that lunk next
to you whether I'm getting any or not."  I was
finally able to smile about the whole thing. The
guys stood up and started for the door.
"Good luck getting home, Timmy," Cedric taunted.
"Bastard," I said.  "Your time will come."
Still laughing, both guys left.  And I was there
with my problem.  My dick had softened during
the recent exchange, but the wet spot, while not
as big as the cum spot I had in my office a few
weeks earlier, was clearly noticeable.  I walked
back to my office holding my notes folder and
text in front of my pants.  I felt strange doing
so, but no one seemed to pay any attention.  I
decided I may as well go directly to my car.
All of this was eerily familiar.  But what a
change had taken place in my life since that
night when I had fled to my car with cum all
over me.  The gay side I had been suppressing
all my life had come to the fore, the miraculous
Ced had burst into my life and changed it
immeasurably for the better, and three other
studs had become my younger brothers, my
friends, guys for me to mentor as well, perhaps.
I was pretty lucky, all things considered.
But I WOULD find a way to get back at those two
culprits.
                   *          *          *
                      TREY:

It was Thursday evening.  Tim was teaching his
class.  Chaz and I were sitting around with Mark
and Ced at their place. Mark had been spending
so much time with Lori, his new girlfriend, it
was unusual to have him home.  We had talked a
bit about their one-point loss to O.U. a few
nights earlier.  Ced was feeling bad because he
had missed a crucial catch at third late in the
game.

"That's all water over the dam, Ced," Mark
observed.  "Now what's this about something you
pulled in Tim's class yesterday?"

Chaz snorted.  "They pulled their damn dicks,
the way I hear it!"

So Ced and I took turns telling them what had
happened.  By the time we were through, Ced was
feeling lots better and we were all laughing.

"Well, guys," Chaz said, "you'd better watch
out.  I'll bet the little guy figures out a way
to get you two good!"

Ced smiled.  "Oh, yeah, Timmy will figure out
some evil way to get back at us."  He looked at
me.  "We'll have to keep our eyes open, my
friend."

"If I know Tim," I said, "we'll walk right into
it and won't see it coming.  We just have to
resign ourselves to being paid back when he gets
around to it."

"It will be worth the payback.  Man, he was so
flustered, trying to keep the class on track and
deal with his stiffie. I had forgotten how much
Timmy leaks.  I felt a little bad about the spot
on his pants."  He looked at me.  "We didn't
figure on that, did we?"

"Ced, Tim managed to get home without anybody
seeing the spot."

"Yeah, but that must have brought back the
memory of what you guys did to him in his office
that night.  Sheesh, was that just two weeks ago
today?  Look what's happened in that time."

Ced looked at his watch.  "Hey, brothers, by the
time I can get to Tim's apartment, he'll be back
from his class.  See you guys tomorrow."

"Yeah, Ced," Mark taunted, "better get to your
little lover."

"That's enough out of you, Markie," Ced
responded.  "You're just jealous."

"When I've got Lori?  Get real!"

Since Ced was leaving, Chaz and I took that as
our cue to say goodbye and go back down the hall
to our place.

So much had been going on since our talk earlier
in the week, Chaz and I hadn't had much time to
just sit and shoot the shit.  I had no clue how
he was feeling about what all he had told me.
We were having glasses of milk and pieces of
apple pie (from the supermarket).  We talked
about this and that, I don't even remember what.
I do remember that
his mood sort of flickered.  One minute he would
be looking at me and smiling his great smile,
another he'd be staring at the fridge or
something.

When we finished, we put our dishes in the
dishwasher, said goodnight, and went to our
separate rooms.

I brushed my teeth, pissed, and stripped for
bed.  I've always slept naked.  Can't stand
anything on when I'm trying to sleep.  Briefs
chafe, and boxers get bunched up.

I set my bedside radio to play for a while and
turn itself off, and of course I set the volume
low so it wouldn't disturb Chaz.  I lay there,
thinking about him and all the things about
himself he was trying to understand and accept.
I must have been lying there for about a half an
hour when he tapped on my door.

"Trey, buddy," he said softly, "you awake?"

"It's OK, come on in."

He opened the door and stood there.  I could see
him silhouetted in the doorway.  He nearly
filled up that opening, his head practically
touching the top of the door frame.
I admired his broad shoulders, slim waist, and
long legs.
He was wearing those silly boxers with the faces
on them.

"Trey, there's, uhm, that is, we've. . . .
Shit!  Can I . . . ?"

I held my arms out to him.  He came and lay down
beside me, propping himself up on one elbow and
looking down at me.

"I didn't know whether you'd want me or not."
There was that crazy smile of his again!

That line sounded so much like something from a
soap opera that I almost laughed.  But I was so
glad to have him in my bed I sure didn't want to
do anything to hurt his feelings.

"Stud, I want you any way I can get you!"

He seemed embarrassed.  Take-charge Chaz!  "So
what do we do?  I've never done anything like
this before, you know."

"Well, my experience with men is limited, and
you've stood there watching just about all of
it, Charlie!"  I put a hand on either side of
his face and pulled it toward mine.
That was all he needed, I guess.  The next thing
I knew, I was being kissed like I had never been
before.  He was hungry.  He explored my mouth
with his tongue, rammed it down my throat,
sucked on my tongue, all before I was even able
to respond.  Charles was in charge, for sure.
He inhaled the air from my lungs, leaving me
dizzy.  It crossed my mind that he was doing
what he'd had lots of practice doing with women,
and could he ever do it!

Then he put those long arms around me and rolled
onto his back, pulling me on top of him.  I
could feel his cock poking through the fly of
his boxers, hard and really big against my
belly.  I was just as hard as we ground our
cocks together.  He wasn't saying a word, wasn't
moaning.  He just looked me in the eye and
grinned.  That grin!  He put both big hands on
my ass and began to rub my cheeks.  "Damn!" he
said, "that don't feel nothin' like a woman's."

"Disappointed?"

"Nah, you have a great ass!  I just never felt
anything like that before.  It's not soft and
sort of bouncy like a chick's.  It's hard.  And
a chick's is smooth.  You're a little fuzzy."
He kept exploring, occasionally running his
fingers along my crack, making me shiver, but
going no further.

"Chaz, man, stop."

He looked at me, concerned.  "What's wrong
babe?"

"We're going too fast.  We've got a lot to do
before we come, but you're going to bring me off
if you keep that up. Besides, you've still got
your boxers on.  Let's free up that monster of
yours."

"Awww, he's not a monster.  I think he's kind of
nice."

I rolled off him and scooted down so I could
pull off his shorts.  He lifted his hips to
help.  And there was his monumental cock.  We
had only the light from the hallway, but I could
see that it was fully hard, standing away from
his belly, throbbing slightly.
I was about to begin licking and sucking his
cock and balls, when he said, "Hang on, dude."

"What?" I asked.  I was disappointed, like a kid
who'd had his lollipop taken away.

"You're supposed to be teaching me how it's
done.  Don't you think I'd learn more if I was
doin' that?"

"If that's what you really want, big guy."

"Well, come on up here and get on your back,
then."

When I was in position, he began to work on my
dick, very tentatively.  A few licks at first.
Then he put it in his mouth and began to suck in
earnest.  He pulled off long enough to say,
"Hey, this ain't so yukky."  Then he went back
to work.  He didn't try to take me all the way,
but he was doing one fine job anyway.  Then he
stopped again.  This was getting frustrating.

"Don't want ya to come yet, babe."

"OK, but you are freakin' me out.  You know
that, don't you?"

He smiled.  "Look, Tiger, I want to make you
feel good.
I've been such a shit lately, I have a lot of
making up to do.  But I want to do things with
you that I've never done before.  I've fucked
women, but I've never been fucked.  So lube up
that pole of yours and do me!"

Hot damn!  "Are you sure, big guy?"

"Shaddup and get on with it."

Since he told me he had fantasized about seeing
me on my knees looking back at him, I assumed he
would want to do me. This was sort of a
surprise, but I wasn't going to
disappoint him - or pass up the chance to do
something I'd really wanted for a long time.

Chaz lay on his back and pulled his knees up as
I got the lube.  He's so tall his knees seemed
to tower over me, even with his feet flat on the
bed.

I did the three middle fingers of my right hand,
using first one, then a second, and then a third
to loosen up his hole. Since the shaving job,
there still wasn't much hair there. The first
time I touched his button, he jumped, and yelled
something like "whooeeee!"  "Man!  I been
missin' out on that all these years?  That's
fuckin' fantastic!"

"You just wait," I laughed.  "It's gonna get
better."  I kept working his hole with my
fingers.  Soon he was just sort of vibrating,
keeping up a steady string of talk at the same
time.

"Oh, shit, Trey, that's so good, I mean, man, I
can't believe - oh, yes, do that!  Sheesh, I
never had any idea that could be so great, oh
yeah, yeah, yeah!"

Well, you get the idea.  The big dude was liking
it.  Not wanting him to come too soon, though, I
slowly removed my fingers.  He whimpered when I
did, but never opened his eyes.  Instead,
knowing what was going to happen, he spread his
legs wider apart.
I put some lube on my dick.  Then I scooped up
the precum on his belly and smeared that around
on my dick, too.

When I put my cockhead against his hole, he
opened those pale blue eyes and looked straight
into mine, like he was concentrating on what was
happening.  I like a lot of things about Chaz's
looks.  His height, those broad shoulders that
slim down to a really small waist, his tight
ass, the hairiness of his body, the size of his
cock and balls - even his big feet.  But I
gasped as his look bored into me.  I had never
noticed how really sexy his eyes are.  As I very
slowly applied pressure, those eyes got wider,
and he said, "Holy shit!"

"Sorry babe.  Do you want me to stop?"

He said, "That's a pretty fat pecker you got
there stud. Give me a minute to get used to it."
Then he gave me the smile I Iove and said, "I
can take all the pain you can dish out, buster.
Go ahead, but do it slow."

I'd go in an inch and pause.  And do that again.
Finally, my short, prickly pubes were pressed
against his cheeks.  He put his legs around me
and locked his feet as I began to pump slowly.
Maybe Tim or Ced could describe how good this
felt.  I just don't have the writing skills to
do it.

When I did Tim, it was great.  I'd had the hots
for him for a month or six weeks.  It was my
first time to do that, so I was pretty nervous,
but it was great.  I did feel bad, though,
because we were blackmailing Tim into letting me
do it.  And Chaz was standing there watching and
commenting.
So it wasn't an ideal situation.  I got my rocks
off, but it wasn't what you'd call a perfect
fuck.

This was different.  Chaz was my best friend.
This was a kind of coming together (yeah, yeah,
I see the pun) with a guy I had loved, at least
like a brother, for three years --
with a guy who got my dick hard just about every
time I looked at him.  This was really special.
So I fucked him slowly, tenderly.  When I got
close to coming, I'd stop a while, and lean
down.  He'd lean up to meet me, and we'd kiss.
It was SO beautiful.  So sweet.  Like nothing in
my life.
Then, of course, our urges took over.  I began
to pump in and out faster.  Chaz began his
stream of talk again.  My fat tool must have
been hitting his prostate repeatedly, because
his dick was hard and leaking, he was writhing
under me, moaning and swearing and giving me all
sorts of indications that he was on a real trip.
For me, having my cock in his ass gave me such a
great feeling that I was high two ways.
Whenever a guy's about to come, he feels like
that's the best moment of his life.  But this
was special because I felt so completely
connected to Chaz.
Well, nature took its course, I guess.  That
familiar feeling told me I was gonna erupt.  I
grunted to Chaz, "Oh, babe, I'm ready!"
"Shoot your load in me, Trey, buddy," he said.
And I did, collapsing on top of him right after
that.  He put his arms around me and held me
against his chest.  It was a great feeling.  I
felt so close to him.  I've never felt anything
like that before.  Straight sex is great, but
I've never felt so - fulfilled as I did just
then.  This big stud had wanted me to fuck him.
And he liked it!  That's so cool.  I would have
been content to spend the night just lying there
on top of him.  And I was thinking of the time
which had to come soon when he put his big long
cock in me. It would hurt, but I wanted him to
fuck me, needed for him to fuck me, to sort of
cement our bond, if you know what I mean.
In that euphoric mood, I must have slept for a
while.  The next thing I remember was Chaz
kissing me on the forehead. He was still holding
me.  I tried to snuggle a little closer, but he
let go.
"Little buddy," he said, "this was great.  Thank
you.  I really mean it, man.  It was, like,
beautiful.  You've given me something special,
dude, something I needed."
"Both of us, Chaz, both of us."
Then he held me tight again, and I went back to
sleep.


             *          *          *

Trey and Ced were having coffee after their lit
class on Friday.  They had talked about the play
they had ignored on Wednesday while they got Tim
hard in class.  They talked about tennis and
baseball.

Finally, as they finished their coffee and were
about to separate for the rest of the day, Ced
asked, "Trey, you haven't said anything about
Chaz lately.  How's he doing? Have you found out
anything more about what's bothering him?"

Trey paused for a moment, apparently
reflecting.  Then he smiled at his friend.
"Ced, what did you and Tim do in bed last
night?"

He was obviously surprised by the question.
"I'm not going to tell you that.  I can't
believe you asked.  That's too personal to talk
about."

"Right, stud," Trey said, still smiling.  "See
you later."

`Weird,' Ced thought.  `Wonder what he meant by
that? Surely he's not suggesting what he seemed
to be.  Chaz?  No way!'


(Is this story over?  Chaz and Trey, Tim and
Ced have found one another.  What else could
happen?  <Grin>  Look for chapter 12 in a
couple of weeks.
-- Tim)