These stories are based on incidents which happened in a kinder, gentler time.
Only a fool would have unprotected sex today.

BLIZZARD
BY JIMBO

      Graduate school on one of the largest midwest campuses was a far cry
from the tiny liberal arts school the little gay "professor" had previously
attended.  His military experiences had helped him learn much more about
himself, but he still had much to learn.  It was much easier to be gay on a
humongous campus like this where anonymity was so much easier.  But in this
new world he was turned off by the bar scene and equally turned off by the
anonymous "tea" room cruising so popular with the campus queens.  So he had
reached several months into the school year without connecting with any fellow
students.
     Masters candidates in theatre were expected to produce a thesis play
during the year.  Everyone hoped to be assigned to the end of the year so as
to have more time to work on the project.  With his luck, the professor drew
the first weekend of February.  He would be directing and Tom, a fellow
Masters candidate would be the technical director (sets, costumes, lighting).
The professor was simultaneously frightened and happy about the assignment.
Tom was the best technical man in the department but in a department known for
the regal bearing of its numerous queens, Tom was a straight arrow.
     Tom wasn't handsome...rugged would be the word.  He was tall and
amazingly powerful.  He was the strong, silent type and rarely became
innvolved in personal discussions.  He had been raised on a farm and was
engaged to be married to a girl back home the day after June graduation.  He
lived alone in a small apartment across town from the campus and rarely
associated with his classmates.
      Early in December, Tom suggested that the professor and he get together
to
exchange ideas and make some plans.  He invited the professor to come to
dinner at his apartment on a Thursday night.  It was a simple supper and they
lingered for several hours at the table pushing aside the dishes and working
rapidly on sketches for sets and costumes.  Tom worked feverishly and soon
took off the long sleeved shirt he wore.  A white tee shirt covered his
obviously hairy chest, but his bare arms excited our horny professor
tremendously.  They were muscular and hairy and so masculine.  Tom was not
built like a body-builder and certainly did not possess a handsome face.  But
he exuded a strong, rugged masculinity that the professor found almost
overpowering.
     The professor found it hard to concentrate and caught himself lightly
touching the hairy arms as the evening went on.  The professor had not
acknowleged his homosexuality in the department as many had, but he assumed
that they had guessed.  He didn't date or talk about girls.  He had difficulty
controlling his eyes when cute boys were around...especially when they were
changing costumes. He wondered what Tom thought of him and although they were
about the same age, he felt somehow like a child next to this Abraham Lincoln
type.
     Finally they had done all they could do on the project that night and the
professor rose to leave.  There was a strange silence.  They went to the only
window in the tiny apartment and could see nothing.  It was a basement
apartment and the window was completely covered.  Tom rushed to the door and
looked out.
The greatest blizzard of the decade was raging outside.  Tom came back and
announced that the professor could go no where; nothing was moving on the
streets outside.
     Tom had one small bed and no couch.  With heart in throat, the professor
asked where he might sleep.  "You'll have to share my sleeping bag, partner,"
he said. "Don't worry.  I won't hurt you."
     They made preliminary arrangements and stripped to their shorts.  As they
approached the bed, the professor desperately trying to hide his little woody,
Tom said, "Hope you don't mind, but ever since I was a kid, I've slept nude."
     The professor had slipped under the covers in time to look up at Tom's
naked, powerful body.  Brown hair covered his chest and abdomen.  A long,
thick, cut penis swung above large, pendulous hairy balls.  The professor knew
he would never sleep.  The lights went out and soon the sound of soft snoring
emanating from Tom filled the room.  The professor lay rigidly motionless and
wide awake.  He kept picturing Tom's naked body and wanting it so badly.  He
listened to the snoring and finally lifted the covers to peek beneath.  Tom
had left a small light on in case the professor had to get up during the
night.  It looked as if the penis might be hardening somewhat.  He lifted the
covers completely off and his eyes and mouth opened wide as he saw that
marvelous organ growing before his eyes!
     Spellbound, he didn't realize that the snoring had stopped.  But when he
looked up toward Tom's face, he saw a wide grin as Tom lay on his back with
his hands behind his head. "Go ahead, kid.  Do what you want.  I don't mind."
     Caught in the act, the professor timidly extended his hand to stroke the
inviting shaft.  Once he had made contact, his hormones took over and he began
to run his hands all over Tom's strong, hairy body.  He loved the feeling of
this man's body.  He thought he could even smell the aroma of masculinity
rising from it. How much would Tom put up with? He brought his lips to Tom's
nipple and gently kissed it as he stroked his body.  He kissed Tom's chest and
neck.  He became bolder and reached his face thrilling at the sandpaper
feeling of Tom's heavy beard.  He thought he would die when Tom rolled over on
his side, wrapped his powerful legs around the little professor and held him
close.  Tom whispered in his ear, "Don't kiss my mouth, but do anything else
you want to me.  Maryann is far away and I won't see her for a long time.  I'm
not queer, but I guess I need loving too."
      That was all the professor needed.  He ran his hands down Tom's strong
back and grasped the hard, tight buns firmly.  He moved Tom onto his back and
began to lick his way down that long body holding onto the ass cheeks firmly.
As he neared the hard prick head with his mouth, Tom began to whimper and moan
a little.  He licked the precum from the piss slit and began to quickly whisk
his tongue around the swelling head.  Then he licked the length of the long
shaft and took the large balls into his hot mouth one at a time.  He began to
work lhis fingers into Tom's 
asshole as Tom began involuntarily to thrust his pelvis in and out, in and
out.  The professor swallowed the throbbing pecker in a bit at a time and
miraculously was able to take the full length into his throat as Tom's
thrusting became more and more rapid.  His huge hands pressed against the back
of the professor's head and he cried out in ecstacy as spurt after spurt of
cum too long held back flowed into the professor's throat almost choking him.
     When it was over, Tom pulled the professor close and said, "Thanks.  You
don't know how much I needed that."
     "You sure didn't need it any more than I do," replied the professor.
     "That's right.  You didn't come.  Do you want me to jack you off? I would
do that."
      "Thanks. No.  Just hold me tight and let me come on you.  Okay?"
      "Okay."  Tom pulled the professor on top of him and grabbing his skinny
buns worked his body up and down until he shot his wad all over him.  They lay
quietly for a few minutes, then Tom said, "Want to take a shower together?  We
ought to clean up a bit before we sleep.  We don't have to wake up early in
the morning.  No one is going anywhere in this storm."
     They went into the tiny shower and lathered each other thoroughly.  Tom
was embarrassed to find that his prick was soon standing tall in the saddle
again.  The professor knew what to do.  He slid down the long body and
swallowed that gorgeous piece of meat again.  When Tom climaxed this time, he
lifted the professor up and put his hand on his erect member and massaged it
to climax.  They slept in each other's arms that night.
      In the morning they turned on the radio and realized that most of the
midwest had been paralized by the storm.  Nothing would be mmoving for several
days.  They ate breakfast in the nude and then went back to bed.  They lay in
bed most of the day...except for eating breaks and toilet trips.  It wasn't
all sex.  They talked about their mutual interests and they had many.  Tom
told about Maryann and how much he loved her, wanted her, needed her.  When he
talked about her, his flagpole rose and signaled the professor who did his
best to put it at ease. At one point Tom said, "You know, guy.  I never did
this before and don't ever expect to do it again, but in some ways you're like
the best of two worlds...like a buddy and a girlfriend rolled into one.  I
always thought I would hate a queer who tried to put the make on me, but I
feel so natural with you."
     They stayed naked the entire weekend.  There were many showers and many
variations on the standard blowjob.  Maryann would have to work hard to
compete.
By Sunday evening, the professor was able to return to his own apartment and
school began again on Monday.  
     They worked together on a highly successful production.  Sometimes when
they were alone in the theater building, the professor would gently fondle
Tom's buns or even fondle his ample basket.  Sometimes the fondling even went
on for several minutes.  But Tom always stopped it when the wet stains started
to appear. They never got naked again.  They never climaxed together again.
But they were best friends all year and the professor was best man at the
wedding in June.