Date: Sat, 4 Aug 2012 07:34:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: Dj Montgomery <djmontgomery99@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Gift, Part 1

I would like to thank Devon for his continuing assistance in editing my
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events that are real and possibly autobiographical.  Any resemblance to
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"The Gift"
    Part 1

      Thirty years later, and here I was, back again at square one.  When I
was eighteen, I sat in chairs like these in a lecture hall, beginning a BS
degree in business.  I met Stella, and we began one helluva run.  Four
years of college.  Four years of wild sex, rutting like two animals.  We
graduated from UNLV with our degrees, ready to conquer the world.
      We married.  Stella and I went to work for her daddy in one of the
largest real estate agencies in the state.  She became vice-president and
CFO, and I became the shining star of Southern Nevada real estate.
      I always wondered what Stella saw in me.  I'm 5'7" with an average
build.  People have told me I have a pleasant face, maybe even a handsome
face, but where it counts, I'm average.  I like to call it average, but
have always feared that at 5 ½ inches, I'm smaller than most men.  But
Stella never seemed to mind because she said I had "the gift."
      My tongue.
      I could make magic with my tongue.  My tongue could tease a huge
orgasm out of Stella every time I tried, from the very first time.  I loved
to taste every part of her body, and I used my tongue to massage every part
that I tasted.  Her soft earlobes, her tender nipples and breasts, the
supple skin covering the muscles of her back and thighs, the tender lips of
her pussy, and her clit.  I knew my "gift" was magic!
      After 25 years of making an obscene amount of money, the economy went
south, and not too much later, so did Stella.  Houses lost value, and no
one was buying.  I wasn't bringing big deals to the company, or even little
deals for that matter, and I guess I lost my appeal with Stella.  She went
looking for "bigger deals" because "the gift" wasn't enough to keep her
happy.  As Stella was fond of telling me for the past four years, everyone
had a "bigger deal" than I did.  And with her went my job.
      So here I was, back in college because I needed a new career.  But
who in their right mind is going to hire a 48-year old guy with only a few
skills?  I decided to try a degree in education and maybe focus on special
needs students.  Special education seemed to spark my curiosity.  I had
some volunteer experience, and it seemed almost a "slam-dunk" job
opportunity.
      On my first night of class at UNLV, to begin the fall semester, I
took a seat near the door near the back of the room.  From that vantage
point, I could view just about everyone in the room without looking too
obvious.  I wanted to do well in the class so that I would increase my
chances of getting a teaching job once I graduated.  I wanted to see who my
competition was.  I would listen to try to determine who was "getting it"
so that in case I didn't understand something, I'd know who to ask.
      Most of these kids were sophomores; I was back having been out of
college for years and years.  The courses they took last year for their
degree were classes I had taken for my BS many years ago, so they were more
familiar, more "up-to-speed," with what was going on.  We weren't on equal
footing, and I might need a little advantage, a little help from someone
here.
      When the professor walked in, I was mildly surprised.  Dr. Erika
vonDieten was very young.  Probably no more than 28 years old.  Probably no
more than 5'4" and definitely not more than 100 lbs.  And a redhead.  This
was going to be better than I had imagined!
      I heard a whisper next to me.  "She's quite an eyeful, isn't she?"
      "What?"  I hadn't noticed a young man sit down next to me. I could
see that his short blonde hair was combed to a center peak, and retro
"granny" glasses surrounded his hazel eyes.  He was dressed in a football
jersey and sweat pants, both stained with perspiration.  Las Vegas
temperatures in the 100's will do that to you, if you need to trek across
campus to class.  I just needed to take a short walk from my
air-conditioned car to the classroom.
      He continued to whisper.  "I said she's quite an eyeful.  Dr. E is
easy on the eyes.  She taught one of my beginning education classes last
year."
      "Dr. E?" I whispered.  "I thought her last name was `vonDieten.'"
      "Yeah, but would you want to be known as Dr. VD?"  He broke out
laughing, drawing all eyes in the class to him.  Dr. E acknowledged his
presence.
      "Liam, I see you have decided to try one of my classes again.  I hope
that you will put forth more effort to pass this class than you did in
class last spring."  If her words were intended to make him wilt, she
succeeded.  He slid down so low in the chair that I thought he was trying
to crawl under it.
      And it had its intended impact on the class as well; the room fell
silent.  Dr. vonDeiten surveyed the room and, in a no-nonsense tone of
voice, told us that she was going to pass the attendance sheet.  She'd meet
with each of us at the end of the evening so that she could put a face to
each name.  Every week we were to be responsible to sign in.  Attendance
would be graded, and she made it clear that it would be a lot easier to
pass the class if we attended each week.  Sounded good to me.  We needed to
be responsible.  I could handle that.
      As the class wore on, I kept track of the students who asked good
questions or who responded with answers that received a positive response
from the professor.  There were three in the front row, two girls and a
guy, who almost dominated the conversation.  I couldn't see her well from
where I sat, but one of the girls--Dr. E called her Jenna--seemed to know
just about everything.  She had beautiful blonde shoulder length hair that
seemed to bob back and forth as she became animated while asking or
answering questions.  The other girl, Sammi, seemed more interested in
impressing the young man sitting between them, and each time she said
something right, she turned her head topped by short-cropped auburn hair
and wrinkled her button nose at the guy.
      I didn't catch the guy's name, and couldn't see him well, but did
notice that the shirt he was wearing--it seemed to be a few sizes too
small.  His muscular body, what I could see of it, seemed to be stretching
to get out each time he moved his upper body and his arms.  The short
sleeves of his shirt looked like they were trying to choke his massive
biceps.  He also had short brown hair topping his head, with the sides
shaved, and his skin looked flawless.  He turned toward my side of the
class just once, and I saw his pale blue eyes.  Beautiful, pale blue eyes.
He leaned over to whisper something to the blonde girl, Jenna, which made
her giggle.  He seemed to be working hard to get his share of attention
from Dr. E, and seemed to be working even harder to ignore Sammi.  He
certainly got my attention; "beautiful" didn't seem too strong a word.
Chiseled features covered by a five o'clock shadow.  I couldn't look away.
     He looked past Jenna, and his eyes locked on mine.  Busted.  I quickly
looked away, feeling my face turn crimson.
      The class got a break about half-way through the evening, but I
stayed put in my chair, deciding to organize my notes instead of running
down the hallway to the lounge to get a Coke.  I also didn't want to run
into "him."  I didn't need to spring a boner while rubbing shoulders with
kids half my age.  And that shirt was "boner-ific."  When he walked out of
the room, I finally could see the front of it, and the scooped neckline
stretched down to reveal the edges of two massive pecs, topped by stiff
nipples that probably could leave a permanent indent on the shirt.  And
right below were the words, "got sex?"  It was probably the best play on
the "got milk" advertising that I had ever seen, but at that moment, I just
wished it would disintegrate so that I could see more of what he was
hiding.
      I looked up, and realized he'd caught me staring again.  He flashed a
smile, and I blushed, got flustered, shifted my body, and slid my notes off
the edge of the desk.  Thank god, I could look away to pick up my stuff
without feeling stupid, although stupid was just about all I felt right
then.
      As I picked up my notes, and tried to resume whatever the hell I was
doing, I noticed that Liam was still there.  I hadn't heard a thing out of
him since the beginning of class.  He looked scared.
      "What's up?  Liam, isn't it?  I asked.
      "Geez, I'm already lost, on the first night of class!  I don't get
all the words, all the jargon that they use in education.  I just want to
work with kids and help them to learn, just like my good teachers helped me
to do.  But I don't get all the `stuff.'  I guess I'm going to be kissing
the swimming scholarship goodbye."  He suddenly slumped down further in his
chair, staring at his feet.
      "You're here at UNLV on a sports scholarship?"  I wouldn't have
guessed it.
      "For at least the rest of THIS semester.  I'm on academic probation
right now."
      "Come on, jocks don't have trouble getting through college.  Don't
they have some sort of `special help' that they provide to guys like you
who need to pass a tough class.  Can't the coach talk to your teachers
about easing up on you, helping you get through the class?  You know, bump
up the grade?"
      "I told you that I had Dr. E last semester, and the coach tried that
already.  The department chair went and talked with her, and I got a `D' by
the skin of my teeth. That wrecked my GPA, so I'm on probation.  If I don't
get a `B' average this semester, my scholarship is gone.  And so am I.
Back to working on my dad's dairy farm."
      "They have dairy farms in Nevada?"
      "Oh, probably, but I'm not from here.  I'm from Michigan.  Got the
scholarship after winning the state championship in the 200 butterfly.  I
could have stayed in Michigan, but I wanted to get as far away from the
farm as I could.  Didn't want dad to expect me to live at home while trying
to concentrate on getting a good education.  And I wanted to experience
life.  So I'm here, for a little longer."
      I was just going to offer some advice, but class was resuming.  Most
of the students returned from out in the hallway, and `the guy' ambled
across the front of the room, raising his beefy arms above his head to
stretch.  I tried hard to not look directly at him.  But I could see more
of him now, and he seemed to be the total package.  His thick thighs
pressed against the fabric of his jeans, and they stretched in the back,
straining to cover his bubble butt.  His package up front was prominent as
well.  As he stretched, his shirt rose to show a treasure trail of dark
hair leading into the top of his jeans.  You could see his 6-pack through
the fabric of the shirt.  As my eyes raked up his torso, past his abs, his
perfect pecs, and his thick neck, I came in contact with his eyes again.
He was staring at me, burning a hole through me with his look.  Then he
flashed that wickedly charming smile, winked, and turned to sit.
      I think I wet myself.  Then I caught myself in mid thought.  Where
was this coming from?  Why was I noticing a good looking guy?  Why hadn't I
noticed more about Jenna, or Sammi, or one of the other attractive girls in
the class?  But it seemed that each time that I could steal a peek, I was
looking at `him.'
      Fuck, did this guy have any idea what he was doing to me?  Yeah, he
probably did, because after break, he kept sneaking peeks back in my
direction.
      This was nuts.  Was I so turned off by what Stella had done to me
that I was starting to go in a completely different direction?  That was
crazy.  I just happen to notice a well-built guy.  I wasn't interested in
him, just admiring him.  Maybe, deep down, I wished I looked like him.
Buff and built.  Big delts attached to huge biceps attached to hairless,
vascular forearms.  Maybe if I had been built like him, I'd still be with
Stella.  Maybe if I had his big package, I could have fucked her brains out
and she never would have gone looking.
      My god, I did it again.  I was thinking about his package.  And I
wasn't paying attention to what was happening in class.  I needed to think,
I needed to focus, I needed to not look in `his' direction.  I went back to
taking notes.
      The last activity of the night was to organize groups for
presentations at the end of the semester.  While groups were forming,
assigning tasks, and setting up a schedule to complete the project, Dr. E
would meet with each of us to talk.  I started looking for a group that was
interested in special needs students.  As I circulated around the
classroom, I worked my way up to Jenna's group, and finally found out that
the muscular guy was named Anthony.  When I introduced myself, we shook
hands and it felt like a jolt of electricity went through me from his grip.
I didn't want to let go, and it seemed like he was reluctant, too.  But
their group already had six, the maximum, so I continued to circulate.  Two
guys near the door wanted to focus on special education policies, so I sat
with them.  As I sat down, I noticed that Liam had been following me.
      "I was hoping to work with special needs students, too.  Could I join
your group?" he quietly asked.
      Everyone agreed, so Liam became part of the group that included guys
named Carlos and Rich.  It didn't take long to map out our strategy, and
then we joined the line which was waiting to meet with the professor.  Liam
and the other 2 guys got in line ahead of me.  I was still loading my notes
into my backpack.  As I swung the backpack onto my shoulder, I hit
something.  I turned and Anthony was standing about 6 inches away from my
face.
      "I'm sorry, Tony.  I didn't know anyone was back there."
      "It's Anthony, not Tony, but that's okay.  No harm, no foul."  Again,
he broke into a wicked smile, and his eyes delivered another jolt.
      Embarrassed, I turned to move toward Dr. E, but there were still four
or five people ahead of me.  I could feel Anthony move closer, and could
feel his breath on the back of my neck.  I closed my eyes, and my nostrils
seemed to be flooded by his "essence," a combination of soap and musk.  It
brought back memories of how my older brother smelled, in my childhood, as
he prepared to go on a date.  I was so lost in memories that I didn't hear
what he quietly whispered to me.
      "What was that?" I whispered in return as I turned to face him.
      He leaned in toward me.  "I saw you looking at me," he whispered,
quietly so that no one else could hear.  "I stretched just for you."  Now
we were only a few inches apart.  I felt the heat of his body radiating
toward me.
      I turned my head away, gulped, then turned back, almost afraid to
look at him.  My eyes met his, and he winked at me as he smiled.  A smile
that could have melted steel.  Then he leaned back just a little, and
asked, in a louder voice,"So, Denny, what did you find to be the most
interesting topic of the evening?"  And again he winked.
      "Tony, you know that sucking up doesn't work with me."  Dr. E was
staring at Anthony, and she seemed to know that calling him Tony would get
his singular attention.  "You don't need to stand in line.  I couldn't
forget you if I wanted to.  Go home and get your beauty sleep," she
deadpanned as she flashed a fake scowl at him.
      Anthony sheepishly grinned at the professor, and turned to walk out
of the classroom, but not before winking at me.  "See you around."
      It was just a few minutes before I was able to introduce myself to
Dr. E.  I made an appointment for later the next morning to ask a few
pointed questions about pursuing a teaching degree, then left the
classroom.  I continued to think about Anthony as I headed down the hallway
toward the parking lot.  I hadn't taken a break during class, and I needed
to drain my bladder now before I started the ride home.
      I pushed open the door to the restroom and headed toward the closest
stall.  A hand grabbed me from behind and spun me around.
      "I was hoping that you would stop here."  Anthony had spun me around,
and backed me up against the wall, placing his hands on either side of my
face.  He seemed to be gasping for air as he pushed his mouth onto mine in
a hard kiss. He ran the tip of his tongue across my lips, and then pushed
his tongue into my mouth and sucked my tongue into his mouth.  He kissed me
passionately, and I just stood there, not knowing what to do.  I had never
been kissed by a man.  I had no idea what to do.  As he broke the kiss, he
said, "I knew you'd need to use the john unless you had an industrial sized
bladder, but that would be okay, too.
      "Anthony, what...?"
      "Don't talk.  I just want you.  I haven't had any sex juice all day.
I was afraid I was going to have to make do with one of those girls that
hang with me."  He was pulling at my belt, and trying to unbutton my jeans.
      "Anthony, I'm not..."
      "Don't talk," he said again.  "Let's get into one of the stalls.  The
handicapped one at the end.  There's more room in there.  Those girls don't
know I'm gay, but for the life of me I can't understand how they can miss
it.  I only fuck them when I can't get anybody else.  And they keep
following me, so I was almost resigned to taking one of them home till I
saw you scoping me out during class."
      "Tony, I'm not gay," I declared emphatically.  Using the nickname got
his attention.
      "And getting your cock sucked won't make you gay.  Don't you want to
get a blowjob?  You got someone waiting for you at home?  Mama?"
      "No, divorced, and no one special at home.  But I've never had a
blowjob from a guy, so I don't know if I want one.  I guess I should want
some action, since I'm not getting any.  But I don't reciprocate."
      "Fine by me.  But it IS too bad that your first time you get your
cock sucked will be the best you ever get.  It's all downhill from here."
      With that, Anthony began to take my cock in his mouth, to the root,
and suck on it to bring it to life.  Quite the circus: him sucking me, and
me trying to get my clothes off.  As I pulled my shirt up over my head, he
raised one of his hands, grabbed onto my right nipple, and pinched it hard.
I jumped, which made it pull and hurt all the more.
      "Owww!"  My voice let out a strangled whimper.
      "Hurt?"  He was trying to talk around my cock.
      "Yes.  I think so.  Owww!  Maybe.  Maybe not.  Owww!"  He continued
to pinch one nip, then the other.
      "Take those damn clothes off before I do it for you.  You might not
have much left to wear home if I do it."
      I struggled to slide my jeans and briefs down my legs and off my
feet.  He told me to leave my socks and shoes on.  Then he spun me around,
and told me to bend over the toilet.
      "Anthony, don't fuck me," I pleaded.  He got down on his knees behind
me, and stuck his face up into the crack of my ass.  He dragged his tongue
across my puckered hole.
      "Agghh, An-th-o-o-ony!  What are yo-o-ou doing?"
      "Getting my daily dose of man.  And making you feel good in the
process.  I'm gonna suck your ass, eat out your hole, and siphon the cum
out of your balls through your cock.  Any more questions?"
      "I don't eat ass or suck cock."
      "Who said that you get to do any of that?  Those are the fun things
that I get to do.  When I'm done getting my fun, which I hope will be fun
for you, then if you want to do something to me, that's fine.  If you don't
want to, that's fine, too.  Right now, I don't care if my cock gets sucked,
or if my hole gets eaten or fucked.  I just want your cock honey.  I hope
you'll let me have it.  And when I'm done, if you want to give me your
piss, I'll take that too.  Icing on the cake.  Now, can we get back to
business, please?"  And without waiting for me to answer, he went back to
reaming out my hole.
      I honestly don't remember how long we were in the stall, but I do
remember him pulling my cock back between my legs so that he could lick and
suck it while taking breaks from eating my ass.  Not easy for a cock as
short as mine.
      And did he ever feast at my ass; it was like he was starving and
couldn't get enough!  He kept digging his tongue into my shit chute,
massaging the walls with his tongue, constantly trying to move higher,
deeper, as though he was trying to crawl up in there after his tongue.  He
inserted a finger in an attempt to pry my hole open even further, then
slowly edged in another, all while laving his tongue in and out of my
asshole.  He pistoned his fingers in and out, and got one in so far that he
touched something that caused a jolt to go through my body, and I began
spurting shot after shot of cum.  Anthony clamped his lips around my cock,
just below the head, and sucked down each shot with a slurp.  When I
couldn't shoot any more, he chuckled as he licked all the spooge off of my
cockhead and his hand.  My legs buckled, and I literally sat back onto his
face.
      "What...?"
      "That, sir, was your prostate, your love nut," Anthony chuckled, as
he pulled his head back just a little.  "Now, do you have some piss for
me?"
      He spun me around, sat me down on the toilet, and clamped on to my
cock, taking it to the root again, and he waited.  As my cock deflated a
bit, my bladder began to release my piss.  The flow began slow, then
increased in speed.  He sucked it down greedily, as though he wasn't going
to get enough.  He didn't spill a drop, even though I had given him at
least a quart of recycled soda.  When I finished, he continued to nurse my
cock until it began getting hard again.  He dug his tongue into my piss
slit, licked around the head, and took it to the root again.  I came again
in record time.  Not a lot, but enough to please him.  When he finished, he
got up off his knees and leaned over me, bringing his lips down onto mine
in another passionate kiss.  He shared a little of my own piss and cum with
me, shoving it into my mouth as he kissed me.  Gravity played its part,
too, and I had no place to put it other than swallow it, so I did.  I
started to gag, and it wasn't helped by the fact that Tony was trying to
stick his tongue down my throat, like a hand trying to wave goodbye to the
piss/cum cocktail as it went down.
      He finally pulled off my mouth with a wicked grin on his face.  "Just
wanted to show you how good you taste.  That was the best cum and piss
combo I've had this year.  You, my man, are hot!"
      "Are you talking about me, Anthony?  I'm old enough to be your
father, and I've never done anything like this with a guy before, and you
think I'm hot?"
      "Yes.  Yes, I do."
      I had to ask.  "What about my, you know, my...manhood.  I'm smaller
than most guys."
      "Cock size is over-rated.  Oh, yeah, I like to choke a big cock down
my throat, or take one up my ass that makes me feel like it's going to
split me open, but a cock is a cock is a cock.  Every man has one.  It's
not what you've got, but how you use it.  That's what gets so many guys
into trouble with their partners, male or female.  They don't know how to
use what they've got.  There is so much more to sex.  You did all you had
to do in the classroom to drive me absolutely wild."
      "In the classroom?  I don't understand."
      "Fantastic sex is all from the shoulders up.  The brain is the
greatest sexual organ any person possesses.  It plans, it carries out the
plan, it takes others into consideration.  You've heard someone say that
'he was only thinking with the head below his waist?'  Only worried about
his feelings, and getting his rocks off.  The very best sex is wrapped up
in providing pleasure for your partner, and that's all done from the head
up."  He hesitated, then continued.  "And then there's the eyes."
      "The eyes?"
      "Yeah, it's all there, in the eyes.  Interest.  Questioning.  A
little lust.  I could see it in your eyes.  Eye contact is the most
powerful form of communication, you know.  When I breathed on your neck,
and you turned and our eyes met, I knew right then that I wanted to give
you pleasure.  And I could get some pleasure in return.  Right now, your
eyes are telling me that you trust me to be honest with you.  That you
trust me to not breathe a word of this to anyone.  We may never do this
again, and it is just as possible that we might become good friends, maybe
`friends with benefits,' and do it again, maybe a lot."  He smiled as he
drew his hand down the side of my face.  "So don't worry about your cock
size, not with the load you delivered.  Fuck, you nearly drowned me.  I'd
like to do that again, and get all the cum and piss you've got to offer."
      He paused, then added, "And you need to trust me...you are a
beautiful, beautiful man, in my eyes."
      With that, he kissed me again, this time very lightly, just brushing
his lips across mine.  He smiled, then turned and walked out of the stall
and out of the restroom.
      I needed to get my clothes on, and get home.
      I had a lot to think about.



......to be continued........