Date: Sun, 23 Jan 2000 09:51:02 -0800 (PST) From: rob robinson <qboy_2000@yahoo.com> Subject: Counting Crows in Berkeley "Counting Crows in Berkeley" Copyright 2000 Rob Robinson qboy_2000@yahoo.com Back in Feb, 1996, I was at the Claremont in Oakland, right next to the UC-Berkeley Campus. I was there for "sensitivity and diversity training," something everyone in management at the corporation was required to do. Four days in Berkeley--I think can be that sensitive and diverse. Anyway, I've been there two days and am getting tired of seeing the same faces and same hotel. I look in the paper and see that the movie "The Celluloid Closet" is showing a theatre about six block away near the corner of College and Ashby. There is a show at 5:10pm. So I put my jacket on a walk down to the theatre. I dunno if you've seen "The Celluloid Closet" but it's a cool flick about the history and portrayal of gays and lesbians in mainstream Hollywood movies. It is also quite funny. I got to the theatre just before show time. I can't recall the name of the theater but it was a funky art-house 3-plex. The room where "The Celluloid Closet" was playing had about 50 seats and maybe 20 were filled. I sat on the aisle about halfway and noticed this guy two rows in front across from me on the aisle. I could see him very well--he was student-type with long dark brown hair in sort of dreadlocks, medium build, a bit of facial hair. Mid to late 20s. He looked soooooo familiar but I couldn't place where... The movie played and it was great, yada, yada, yada. I got up to leave and the guy I'd been looking at and I bumped into each other. "scuse me" "Sorry" "Cool movie" "Yeah, loved it." And out the door. I turned left, towards Ashby and didn't see which way he went. I walked up to the corner and there was this inviting college bar/deli and I stopped in. I Love these kind of places...loud music, nice young bods, backpacks. Guess I knew why I stayed too long at college. I look young for my age and have this sort of mad professor look (Einstein's young brother, actually), so I fit right in. The place was packed ass to elbows. I was drinking wine, munching on a tuna-melt and reading the Personals in the Bay Area Guardian. I was on a bar stool, near the middle of the room. I leaned backwards. Oppps. Bumped into someone. Shit, it was the guy I saw at the movie. "Guess we were meant to bump into each other today." "Yeah, sorry if I spilled your wine." (He hadn't.) So we started talking. He said his name was Jacob. He was a grad student in Mass Comm at UC. Since I work in the media, we had lots to talk about. The internet was beginning to be a big deal. (Wow, this was only four years ago.) We hit it off right away. I told him I was staying at the Claremont and he said he'd never seen the inside of it, always wanted to, etc. We had been brushing each other while talking and the queer vibe was contagious. So, I invited him up to the hotel. We were walking along with boners and that "I'm Going to Get Laid" glow when I realized who he looked like: Adam Duritz, the lead singer for Counting Crows! This was right when CC was beginning to get popular, before "Mr. Jones" was a big radio hit. We made it to my room at the hotel without seeing any of my "training mates" except an Eskimo from Wrangel, Alaska. I don't think Nanook caught on. We got into my room and within a minute Jacob/Adam had my pants around my knees and my cock all the way down his mouth. And I thought I was horny. He was ravenous, sucking and stroking my dick. "Jesus, let's slow down a bit." "Okay." So we stripped each other. He almost never took his hand or eyes off my cock the entire time. When I got his pants down I saw his eight inch, cut cock. Nice. Ass was hairy but nice too. His pubes were brown with a little red in them. Nuts like eggs. So we did the whole trip: 69, mutual j/o, a little rimming. But he just couldn't keep his hands and mouth away from my cock. Sucking and jacking. Something had to give. I felt I was going to cum and pulled away from him a little. "Gonna cum guy--all over you." He made this non-verbal sighing sound and I squirted sperm all over his face and chest. Wads of hot cum on this cool guy kneeling in front of me. Sweet smell of mansex. I fell back into a chair and he asked if he could fuck me. Neither of us had a condom so I said "no." "I gotta get off." He was so fucking hard. So I said "Lay back and I'll show you something real good." You see, a specialty of mine is that I give the best handjob on the planet. I've had plenty of experience jacking off and practiced a lot as a kid on neighborhood guys. So, Jacob/Adam lay back on the bed, head propped by pillows. I slid a pillow down under his ass so his cock was like a shrine. I laid next to him with my face a about a foot from his crotch. With my right hand, I started jacking him. Up and down. A lick here or there with my tongue. Fingertips on the tip and other sensitive places. Whole hand j/o. Batting it around. He was going crazy. Arching his back. Fucking my hand. I felt he was about to blow. (Here's one of my j/o secrets: I loosen up on the hand pressure around the dick but keep the turn-on friction going. Chicks don't know this--they grab hard and "choke the chicken.") He shot wads of cum like Old Faithful. Fucking streams of it. One wad landed on my hair (like, "There's Something About Mary'). Another wad hit the head board. He moaned with delight. So fucking good. Then Jacob/Adam and I were still for a bit. I asked if he wanted to take a shower and he said "no," that he had to get going. We kissed and he got dressed and left. I laid down on the bed, still naked, and went to sleep. Did I just have sex with Adam Duritz? I'll never know. In the morning I saw the wad of dry cum was still on the headboard. About a year ago, my wife and I went to see Counting Crows in concert. If that wasn't Adam Duritz I did the deed with, it was his evil twin. My wife asked me if I liked the concert. "Yeah...I'll always remember it." This story is not meant to imply anything about the sexuality of Counting Crows band member Adam Duritz.