Date: Wed, 12 Feb 2003 12:36:57 -0800 (PST)
From: Tim Mead <timmead88@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Dr. Tim and the Boys," ch. 12

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.

Faithful readers of "Dr. Tim" know that I regularly thank
some friends.  I want to tell you something about this
extraordinary group.  You see, we are a all Nifty writers.  The
one who drew us together is Evan.  Fans of his story, "Ambush,"
will understand why the rest of us call him our Lion.  Then there's
Patrick, author of "Clay" (beginnings).  Ash writes "Ash and Dad"
in the incest section.  Mickey writes "Billy and Danny:  Freshman
Year" in the college section.  My editor and occasional co-author
Tom has recently launched "The TNT Files" in the adult friends
section.

This has been an unusual week.  Largely by co-incidence (but with
a little nagging by yours truly in some cases), each of us has
just posted or is about to post a new chapter.  I hope you will
check out these stories by my five brothers.  They're pretty
diverse, but they have, I think, a common theme:  sex is great,
but love is greater.

This chapter is a valentine for all you guys who take the time to
write me about "Dr. Tim."    --T.M.


timmead88@yahoo.com
Chapter 12:  Spring Tonic

Tim ran along a sun-dappled path through the university
arboretum.  The city seemed far away.  The only sounds were
his footfalls and the songs of many birds.  He wore his
usual running outfit, t-shirt, jock, shorts, and his
favorite shoes, which were called "Tigers."  He felt good,
had set a steady but not demanding pace, had worked up a
good sweat.  It was as if he were floating.  He wasn't aware
of thinking about anything, instead just enjoying the
sensations of a good run.

Rounding a slight turn in the path, he came suddenly into a
clearing.  It was an open area perhaps fifty yards across,
the path skirting its edge.  The grass looked like a golf
green, close-cropped and very dense.   What he saw next
caused Tim to stop running.  Standing a little more than
half-way across the clearing was a naked man, staring
intently at something in the woods on the other side of the
clearing.  He didn't seem to have noticed Tim.  There was no
clothing anywhere in sight.

From the back, it looked like Trey, except that this man's
hair, the tawny color of Trey's, was longer, curling at the
nape, partly covering his ears.  His body was perfectly
proportioned, wide shoulders tapering to a taut, narrow
butt.  On his arms and legs a  golden fuzz.  Strong thighs
and calves.  A dimple on either side of the spine just above
the buttocks.  Most of the man's weight was on the left leg,
the right crooked slightly at the knee.  Tim could see the
definition of the muscles in the man's back, shoulders, and
legs.  As he stood there, Tim felt that he had intruded on a
private moment, that he should leave.  Despite himself, he
was drawn toward the center of the clearing, his dick
growing harder as he did.

Then the man slowly turned in Tim's direction.  A lock of
tawny hair hung, mane-like, over his forehead.  It WAS Trey!
He smiled, and said, "Tim!  There you are!  I've been
waiting for you."  He looked, not so much like a tiger, as
his friends sometimes called him, as like a lion, a
magnificent young lion, his lioncock rampant.

Tim stopped in front of Trey and raised his arms.  Trey
pulled the sweaty t-shirt off.  He held it to his nose,
sniffed, and smiled, half closing his eyes, which had flecks
of yellow, green, and grey, like a big cat's.  Trey tossed
the shirt aside and knelt in front of Tim.  With one fluid
motion, he pulled Tim's shorts and jock to the ground,
freeing Tim's hard, leaky, and by now aching cock, took it
into his mouth, and sucked on it hungrily.  He surprised Tim
by the intensity with which he worked.  Then he surprised
Tim again by taking him all the way down.  `Wonder when he
learned to do that?' Tim thought.    Placing both hands on
Trey's head, he ran his fingers through the thick, tawny
hair.  Tim felt hot, energized, his body almost vibrating as
Trey continued to swallow his dick.  He alternately grasped
and released handfuls of Trey's mane.  Much too soon, Trey
pulled off.  Disappointed, needy, Tim looked at the upturned
face.

Smiling, Trey stretched out on his back on the soft, close-
cropped, dense grass, his lioncock arched, red, rigid, the
tip glistening with precum.  He shook the hair away from his
eyes.  Holding his arms toward Tim, he said "Claim me, Tim,
please."

Tim lay down.  Holding Trey's balls out of the way with his
left hand, he began to rim Trey's hole.  He would have sworn
Trey was purring.   Tim's cock was oozing precum onto the
grass as he began to fuck Trey with his tongue.  After a few
minutes of that, Trey said, "I'm ready.  NOW!"  he added
urgently.

His cock wet with saliva and his own copious pre-cum, Tim
had no trouble entering.  Trey looked up at him and almost
snarled, "Now, Tim, fuck me!  Fuck me to the core!"

Startled but eager to oblige, Tim began to piston in and out
of Trey's hot hole.  Trey was actively helping, raising his
hips and tightening his sphincter at the right times.  He
looked into Tim's eyes, his own half-open.  He blinked
occasionally.  Tim couldn't tell where Trey's mind was.  He
might have been a thousand miles away.  But Trey's body was
very much present, participating in the union.  Then Tim
became aware that, in the intensity of their coupling, he
himself was uttering a constant low growl.  He knew he was
establishing a connection, a strong bond between himself and
Trey, something mysterious, undefined.

As Tim felt the familiar sensation in his balls, signaling
that he was about to come, Trey vanished.  The sunshine
disappeared.  It was dark.  Tim was in bed, humping the
sheet under him.  He came, shooting spurt after sticky
spurt.  Depleted, he lay there on the cum-puddled sheet,
replaying the dream in his mind, wondering what it meant.


                   *          *          *


                            TIM:


Sitting at my desk during "office hours," I was thinking
about my dream.  I've never been much interested in the
interpretation of dreams, but I had to wonder where that one
came from.  It certainly suggested unfinished business
between Trey and me.  His fucking me a few weeks earlier was
a first for both of us.  I was sorry that he had feelings
for me that I didn't reciprocate.  But Trey's appearance in
my dream suggested my subconscious trying to tell me
something, didn't it?  That I wanted Trey?  Or that I needed
to be more aware of his needs?  In the dream I had the
impression that our coupling established some sort of
permanent link between us.  I had a lot to sort through, but
I didn't get to do it just then.

Ced came in and closed the door.  We had our usual first
kiss of the day involving, as usual, a good deal of nipple
tweaking, ass fondling, and cock grinding.

"Can't stay, Tim," Cedric said, breaking our clinch.  "I've
got a lot of work to do before my next class.  See you
tonight?"

"I certainly hope so, studly."

He gave Junior a squeeze and left, letting the door stand
ajar.  I sat down quickly before someone saw me in my
excited condition.

"May I come in for a moment?"

It was Gwen Fairchild in the doorway.  She looked marvelous
in rust wool slacks and a print silk top of rust and gold.
She was wearing brown alligator pumps with a mid heel.  Tres
soigne.

"Gwen, come in," I said, starting to rise.  Then I
remembered my stiffie and sat back down.  "Uh, please sit."

"I just wanted to apologize for not getting back to you
about Cedric after I promised I would."

"Well, there was no need to, was there?"

"That's right.  By the time I had checked with the dean's
office, he was back on campus and attending classes.  He
stopped by that Monday to tell me that he had already talked
with you and was going to make up the work."

"So, all's well that ends well, right?"

She smiled.  "Right. How's Ced doing?" she asked.

"Gwen, he's a joy.  He's doing just fine, believe me," I
said, thinking she would never know just what a joy he is.

"I'm not surprised to hear it."  She paused a moment, then
continued.  "By the way, I didn't know you knew Stanley
Mason."

"Oh, I met him through Ced and his roommate Mark, who is
Stan's son.  He's quite a guy.  How do you happen to know
him?"

"I met him at Kenyon last fall.  I had gone down there for a
conference, where my friend - and yours - Randy Clarke
introduced us.  Stan was in town for a trustees' meeting.
That evening Randy and Helen took Stan and me to dinner."

"I didn't know you knew Dr. Clarke, either."

"Tim, you apparently don't know how instrumental Randy was
in your getting your job here.  The glowing recommendation
he gave you carried a lot of weight, especially coming from
a colleague I have known, liked, and respected for years."

"Wow," I said, "I didn't know about any of that."

"The next time you're in touch with Randy, you might want to
thank him.  He's a fan of yours."

"Thanks, Gwen.  I'll do that.  Now, tell me, what did you
think of Stan Mason?"

I think she actually blushed.

"I shouldn't be telling you this.  It's very indiscreet of
me.  But, Tim, he took my breath away.  He's a very sexy
man.  And fascinating, too.  I loved getting to know him.
But, you know . . . ."  She leaned closer.  "I think he may
be gay!"

"Why would you think that?" I asked, not entirely feigning
my surprise.

"Timothy, if you tell anyone about this, you'll never get
tenure," she said, winking at me.  "I flirted with the man
all evening long.  I was shameful.  And he was perfectly
charming.  But he was also obviously not interested."

I laughed.  "Gwen, I can't imagine a man who could ignore
your charms for a whole evening."

"Spoken," she said, smiling, "like a young professor who
wants tenure some day."

We chatted for a few more minutes, and she left to go back
to her own office.

I stood up and was about to go to the faculty lounge for a
cup of coffee when Steve Metz appeared in the doorway.  It
was turning into a busy morning.  "Hi Steve, come in."

"You wanted to see me, professor?"

"Sure do.  Please sit down."  I gestured toward one of the
chairs in front of my desk, and I sat in the other.  He put
his book bag beside the chair and sat, looking nervously
around the office.

"Have you read all these books?" he asked.

That is a common question, so I had an answer ready.  "Hell
no.  But I have read a lot of them.  I plan to read more of
them.  And I have an idea what's in all of them.  Some of
them are just reference books, you know."

"Oh."

As we were talking, I had been looking at Steve.  Not much
taller than me, say 5'8' or 5'9".  Skinny.  Brown eyes.
Brown hair parted in the middle, longer than most college
guys were wearing it these days, down to his collar in the
back and covering part of his ears.  He had a long face,
sharp nose, and full lips.  He was wearing faded jeans, a
baggy olive-colored sweater, and the ubiquitous dirty
sneakers.  I noticed that he had long fingers and
surprisingly big feet.  There were nicotine stains on two
fingers of his right hand.

"I suppose you're going to chew me out," he said, chin down,
looking at me through the hair that was hanging over his
eyes.

"Far from it!  You haven't done anything to make me want to
do that."

"Then what?"  His answer wasn't sullen, just puzzled.

"I'd just like to know what I could do to get from you the
kind of excellent work you're capable of."

"Me?  Excellent work?  You're joking, prof."

"No way.  Sometimes I think you are playing with us.  You
sit back there, looking out the window, seeming not to be
interested.  And then you come up with these comments once
in a while that show me you've been paying attention to
every word we've been saying.  Not only that, I'm often
struck by your insights."

"You aren't talking about me saying Song had balls and a
cock, are you?" he asked, smiling slightly.

I laughed.  "No, Steve.  I admired your chutzpah for saying
that, but I'm thinking about other things.  Like the comment
you made about the dancing in `Master Harold,' for example,
or your seeing Jessie's side of things in 'Night Mother'
when the rest of the class couldn't."

"Oh, thanks."

"You read our assignments carefully, don't you?"

"Yeah.  I've sorta been gettin' into this stuff, especially
since we got away from the poetry."  He glanced up to see
how I was going to take that.

"OK, so poetry isn't everybody's cup of tea.  The point,
Steve, is that you have a good mind, but you seem to be
leaving it in `Park.'  Tell me, what's your major?"

"I'm only a soph, professor, and I haven't declared one yet.
But I have to do that by the end of this term."

"How are your grades?"

"Just like in your class, C's, mostly."

"Steve, what do you want to do with your life?"

He laughed and looked out the window.  "Good question, Dr.
Mead, good question."

I waited.

"It's like this.  My dad's a doctor.  He wanted me to be a
doctor, but he knows I'm not cut out for it.  That's why I'm
here, at a state university instead of some fancier place.
He's willing to pay for my education, but he makes it clear
that I'm a disappointment."

"So, what would YOU like to do?"

"That's another reason my dad's pissed with me.  I honestly
don't KNOW what I want to do.  My folks keep saying,
`Stephen, we know you can do anything you set your mind
to.'"

Still casting about, trying to find some sort of handle, I
asked, "When you aren't studying, what do you do?"

"Oh, you know, drink too much.  A little weed.  Play a lot
of bridge.  Watch tv.  Hang out with my girlfriend.  Oh, and
I read some stuff, too."

"What kind of `stuff'?"

He brightened a little.  "I just finished this cool novel
called `Sons and Lovers.'"

Bingo!  We talked for fifteen minutes about "Sons and
Lovers," and I recommended several other Lawrence novels he
might like.  Then I had an idea.

"What are you doing this summer?"

"Stickin' around here, I guess.  My folks don't particularly
want me at home.  So I'll find some sort of classes I can
blow off.  Hang out at the pool, look at the chicks.  You
know, the usual."

"How would you like to take a course you can't blow off?  A
course where you'd be reading American novels written about
the same time Lawrence was writing?"

He looked suspicious.  "And why would I want to do that?"

"Because I think you'd really like the reading.  Because I'm
teaching it this summer, and I'd enjoy having you in
the class."

He looked surprised.  "You'd enjoy having ME in the class?
I thought I was a pain in the ass."

I smiled.  "Steve, I think sometimes you try to be a pain in
the ass.  But you've got a good mind and a wonderful sense
of humor.  If you and I could ever get on the same page, I
think I could help you.  And, as I said, I think you'll love
the things we're going to read."

"Yeah," he said, showing, perhaps, a glimmer of interest,
"like what?"

"e.e. cummings, the poet, wrote a marvelous book about being
in a French prison in World War I.  It's called `The
Enormous Room.'  We'll start with that.  It's one of my
favorite books."

"I'm not much into poets.  What else?"

"It's autobiography, not poetry.  But we'll do novels by
Fitzgerald, Hemingway, dos Passos, maybe Faulkner or even
Dashiell Hammett, depending on how far we can get in the
short summer term."

"And you want me to sign up for the class?"

"Listen to me, Steve," I said, looking him straight in the
eye.  "What I want isn't really relevant here.  But for what
it's worth, yes, I wish you'd sign up.  I don't know who
else will take it, but if you're there, I know I'll have at
least one intelligent person to talk with about the novels.
So, how about it?  Could be fun."

"OK, professor, I'll think about it."  He paused a moment.
"Uh, thanks, I guess."  He picked up his book bag, stood,
and said, "See ya in class."  With that, he left.


                   *          *          *


The door of Trey's bedroom opened.  The night light in the
hallway was on.  Silhouetted in the doorway stood, not Chaz,
but a much smaller man, close to a foot shorter than Chaz,
slight of build.  He was naked.  His hair shimmered with red
highlights in the soft light.  Trey noticed that the thighs
and calves were very muscular, especially when compared with
the torso.

Trey held out his arms.  "Tim!  There you are!  I've been
waiting for you," Trey said.  Tim came and lay down beside
Trey.  They kissed feverishly, grinding their cocks
together.  Then Trey rolled Tim over on his back and
positioned himself to take Tim's hard cock, its head shiny
with precum, into his mouth.  He fell to work hungrily,
sucking eagerly on Tim's tool.  He deep-throated the smaller
man's cock with ease, wondering as he did so when he had
learned to do that.  Occasionally Trey had to shake his hair
back out of his eyes.

Tim bent his head forward so he could watch what Trey was
doing.  He was making barely audible sounds, somewhere
between a purr and a growl, obviously finding the deep-
throating an intense turn-on.

When Trey pulled off, Tim sighed, disappointed.  Then Trey
came up beside Tim and kissed him.  Tim must have been
tasting his own precum in that kiss.  He didn't seem to
mind, willing, apparently, to prolong it indefinitely.

Then Trey lay on his back and said, "Claim me, Timmy,
please."  Tim got up, walked to the foot of the bed, and
positioned his head between Trey's legs.  Holding Trey's
balls out of the way with his left hand, he began to rim
Trey's hole.  Trey purred.  Tim began to fuck Trey with his
tongue.  After a few minutes, Trey said, urgently, "I'm
ready.  NOW!"

Trey knew from previous experience that he had no pain to
fear from Tim's modest cock.  That, plus Tim's preparation,
allowed Tim to slip in easily.  Trey looked up at him
and pleaded, "Now, Tim. fuck me!  Fuck me to the core!"

Tim seemed to know why he was there and what Trey wanted.
He began immediately to plunge his dick in and out.  He was
hitting Trey's nut repeatedly.  Trey couldn't help
assisting, raising his hips and tightening his ass-ring as
necessary.  It sounded to Trey as if, there in the semi-
darkness, Tim was very softly growling.

As Tim pistoned in and out, Trey, in the midst of his
intense sexual excitement and emotional high, sensed that a
permanent connection of some sort was being forged here,
though he had no idea what.  Eventually, Tim stopped
pumping.  His body became rigid as he arched his back.  Trey
could feel the hot cum explode inside him.  Then he felt his
own orgasm beginning.  He closed his eyes and braced
himself.  He came, spurt after spurt, the thick gobs landing
on his face, his chest, and his belly.

After taking a few moments to come down from the high, he
opened his eyes.  Tim was not there.  The door of his
bedroom was closed, as it had been when he went to bed.  But
there was cum all over the front of his body.  Spent and
puzzled, he lay there, thinking.  `Damn, that was the best
wet dream I've ever had.'


                   *          *          *


                            TREY:


The next day I thought a lot about my hot dream of Tim.
What was that all about?  I couldn't help feeling there was
something special between Tim and me.  But did he know it?
Probably not.  I could see how happy he and Ced were, and I
loved both of them too much to want to come between them.
Like I could!  There was SOME kind of connection, though.  I
couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it was there!  I
decided to just keep my eye on him in class and whenever
else the sexy little fucker and I were together.  Maybe if
he felt we had a special bond, I'd be able to pick up on it
somehow.  I'd just have to see how it all played out.

That afternoon we had a cliffhanger of a match with Pitt.
They won.  I didn't do well, but Raul was brilliant in his
sets.  I was one of the last out of the showers.  When I
came back to the locker room, he was there, in his briefs,
the Tommy ones with the wide band around the top.  I noticed
his big package.  With his dark skin, he looked pretty tasty
in his whities.  I had to be careful not to get all boned
up.

"Raul," I said as we high-fived, "great play this afternoon.
You were brilliant, dude!"

"Thanks, Tigre.  I guess it's my turn to offer condolences.
What was it you said last week, `wait `til next time'?"

"Yeah, amigo.  It doesn't do to get down on yourself.  Just
play your game.  And today is proof of what you can do when
you're on your game."

He put on a pair of jeans and a purple polo shirt with the
university sports logo on it.  As he was tying the laces on
his sneakers, he looked up at me.  I had just finished
drying myself off and had grabbed a pair of clean boxers.
It seemed to me that his gaze started with my equipment and
traveled slowly up my bod.  I tingled all over, hoping I
wasn't blushing.

"Trey, I hear Chaz is going home for the summer.  Are you
staying here?"

"Yeah, man, I'm takin' a couple of courses."

"I hope I'm not, uh, out of line, is it?  Is anyone living
in his room while he's gone?"

"We're lookin' for somebody, Raul.  Chaz will take his
computer and most of his clothes with him.  He wants to
leave a few things here, though, so it would have to a guy
he trusted.  But he'd like to have somebody take over the
rent for the summer.  Why, you interested?"

"Yes.  I have no reason to go back to Spain for the whole
summer.  I'd like to get out of university housing, if you
know what I mean.  Do you think I would do as a roommate?"
he asked, his black eyes sparkling, teeth flashing.  He
almost looked like a little kid trying to make a good
impression.

"Depends on how good a cook you are."  I was putting him on
a little.

His face lighted up.  "I am an excellent cook my friend, if
you like Spanish cuisine."

I laughed.  "Raul, have you met Chaz? "

"Oh, yes, we've had some beers together from time to time.
We met in a physical education class our freshman year."

"Great.  I'll tell the big guy you're interested.  Then,
unless he has an objection, and I can't imagine why he
would, you can come over and look at the place, OK?"

"Splendid.  Thanks, amigo!"

"See you at practice tomorrow, Raul, and we can talk some
more."

We high-fived again and left the gym together.  I felt happy
that Raul might move in for the summer.  It would be a hell
of a lot better than being in the apartment alone.  He
wasn't bad to look at, either.


                   *          *          *


                           CEDRIC:

We were lying in bed, feeling great after giving each other
blowjobs.  Tim had promised to return a set of essays to his
comp class the next day, so we had to cut short our
lovemaking.  He had been different this evening, somehow.
He seemed more intense, less gentle.  He didn't hurt me or
anything.  He just seemed almost wild.  And he insisted on
deep-throating me.  After gagging a few times, he got the
hang of it.  (There's a pun in there somewhere!)  So he had
me over the moon!  When he finished, that is, when I'd come,
he grinned up at me with cum still on his tongue.

"You nasty boy," I said.

He swallowed and then crawled up beside me.  We lay there
for a while, and then I realized that Junior was begging for
release, twitching and leaking.  So I did what any good
lover would do and went down on him.  Again, Tim was less
passive, more aggressively into what we were sharing.  He
didn't face-fuck me exactly, but he did sort of lift his
hips to meet my throat.  And, as I remember him doing once
before, he seemed to be growling.  Even when he came, he
wasn't saying things to me, as he usually did.  He was just
making this growling sound.  I think mentally he had gone
away someplace.  I don't think we were as connected as
usual.  But, then, it can't be perfect every time.  I just
wondered what was going through his mind as I was sucking
him.

Anyway, we snuggled for a while, and that was just as sweet
as it always is.  But I knew he had those papers to read, so
I sat up.

"Time to go, studly?" he asked.

"Well, lover, you're the one with the essays to grade.  So,
yes, I'm gonna go home now and let you get with it."

"Well, you'd better shower first, don't you think?  We don't
want Mark to smell you before you get there."

"Do I smell that bad?"

"Not to me, Ced.  But the aroma of cum is pretty strong
about us both.  Have a shower with me?"

"How could I refuse, hot stuff?"

So we showered, and that was fun, too.

We had one of our usual kisses, which made both of us hard
again, just before I left.

"I'd be hard all evening thinking about you if it weren't
for those essays I've got to do," Tim said.

"Go easy on `em, lover.  You're in a feisty mood tonight."

"Feisty?  Moi?"

"Yeah, toi!"

He laughed, slapped me on the butt, and said, "Go home
before I take you in the bedroom again and do unspeakable
things to your person."

"OH, you tempter," I said, as I left.

When I got home, I put the key in the lock, turned it, and
flung the door open.  "Markie!" I said.  Then I stopped
dead.  There on the couch in a lip lock were Mark and who I
presumed was Lori, his new friend.  He had his right hand on
her left boob, and his jeans were unbuttoned, her hand down
inside his Calvins.

"Woops!" I said, backing out.  They separated, and Mark
began buttoning his jeans.  They both stood up.  Mark's
boner was obvious, diagonally across his abdomen, almost
sticking out of the top of his jeans.  God, he was hot!

Lori wasn't bad, either, as women go.  She had a beautiful
rosy complexion, dark hair, and green eyes that reminded me
of Tim's.

"Hey, guys," I said.  "I'm SO sorry.  I'll just go . . ."

"Ced," Mark replied, obviously uncomfortable, "I didn't
expect you back so soon.  Um, this is Lorelei.  I've told
you about her."

She smiled a radiant smile.  "Cedric, I'm Lori.  Please
don't be embarrassed.  You live here, after all."

Who wouldn't love somebody with that kind of tact?

"Lori, Mark has told me a lot about you, girl.  I'm really
happy to know you, at last.  And I am home early.  I
shouldn't have come bustin' in like that.  Forgive me?"

She smiled, and her green eyes sparkled.  "Well, Cedric,
I've heard a lot about you, too, and I am very pleased to
meet you."

Her English seemed perfect.  She even said "very" instead of
"wery."

"Now, let me leave," I said.  "And you two can get back to,
um . . ."

Mark laughed.  "Brother, I think the moment is lost.  Lori,
you hungry? "

"I could eat."

"What about you, Ced?"

"To tell the truth, I'm famished.  Didn't get any supper.
But I can go someplace and get something if you guys . . ."

"Please, Cedric, don't be embarrassed," Lori said.

"Yeah, bro, let's order in pizza, and you and Lori can get
to know each other."

I looked at her.  She smiled and nodded.

"If you're both sure it's OK."

So we ordered pizza.  I said I'd pay since I had broken up
their party.  The pizza dude was a beautiful mahogany
brother who flashed a great smile at me.  I gave him a BIG
tip.

As I went to the kitchen with the pizza, Mark said, "I saw
you checking out that guy.  Should I tell Tim?"

"No harm in lookin', man, no harm in lookin'."  Then I
realized what had just happened.  Woops!  I looked at Lori.

"Don't worry, Cedric, it's OK.  Mark has explained to me
that you are homosexual.  In Europe we are much more
tolerant about such things."

Her English was a little stilted, but she had such a radiant
smile that you had to love her.

Mark got beers for himself and me.  Lori said she didn't
like American beer and asked for a cola.  I didn't think it
would be tactful to point out that our brand was actually
Mexican.  Anyway, we talked, mostly me asking Lori questions
about her home on the Rhine in Germany.

Then, about midnight, I excused myself and got ready for
bed.  Mark said he was going to take Lori home, but I don't
know when they left.  None of my business, actually.


                   *          *          *


                            TREY:


I hadn't seen much of Mark lately because he was spending so
much time with Lori.  I hadn't met her yet, but Ced told me
she was great looking and very nice, if a little stiff.

Hadn't seen much of the big guy, either.  He was spending a
lot of time with some of his basketball buddies.  He also
told me he had been with Sue-Ann again.  There had been no
attempt on his part or mine to have more sex.  I was waiting
for him to make the first move, didn't want to take things
too fast.  When he didn't make any move, I began to wonder
whether that night was just an experiment for him.  Now he'd
satisfied his curiosity, was he "going straight," getting it
on with Sue-Ann?  I didn't feel like I knew where I stood
with Chaz, and I didn't know whether to be hurt or pissed.

I had managed to ask Chaz about Raul, and he had agreed to
let Raul look at the apartment whenever it was convenient.

After tennis practice we had showered.  I couldn't help
checking Raul out.  Damn!  The man's cock was as long as
Chaz's, though it wasn't nearly as big around.  Limp, it
sort of hung out over his balls and then pointed bent toward
the floor.  He was even hairier than Chaz (who, come to
think of it, wasn't as hairy right then as usual).  I put my
foot on the bench in front of the lockers to dry it.  I
looked over my shoulder to say something to Raul, who was
going to come back with me to see the apartment for the
first time.  He was just standing there, wearing boxers this
time.  And the guy was staring at my ass.  Then he flashed
that brilliant smile and responded to whatever it was I
said.

We finished dressing and left the gym.  I had walked, so he
offered me a lift in his car, which I hadn't seen before.  I
don't know how I had missed it, because it was a black BMW
convertible with tan leather inside.  I figured he wouldn't
have any trouble with his half of the rent.

As we drove the half mile or so to the apartment, we got
lots of waves, a few stares, and one wolf whistle.  Most of
the waves were from guys who knew either one or both of us.
The wolf whistle was from a girl.  He waved back and said,
"Gracias, Cindi," giving her the benefit of his trademark
smile.

Back at my building, Raul put the top up and locked the BMW.
When we got to the apartment, Chaz wasn't there, but then I
hadn't expected him to be.  Lately, he'd been having his
supper before coming home.  I dropped my gym bag by the
door, and led the way into the living room.  Gesturing, I
said, "As you can see, this is the living room."

Without looking around at all, looking directly at me, Raul
said, "Very nice, Trey, very nice!"  There was a trace of a
smile on his face as he said it.  "How about the rest of . .
. it?"

Was this dude for real, or what?  "Um, yeah.  Here's the
kitchen.  As you can see, there's a table big enough for two
guys to eat at.  And there's a washer and dryer behind those
folding doors over there."

"Bueno," he said, nodding his head.  "And where do we
sleep?"

`"We?"  What does he mean by that,' I wondered.  `Oh, well,
English isn't his native language.  On the other hand, am I
ignoring signals here?'

"Dude, you will have Chaz's room.  C'mon, let me show you."
So I led him down the hall, past my bedroom to Chaz's.  In
passing, I pointed out the bath.  I thought I'd send up a
trial balloon.  "It's pretty roomy, big enough for two if
necessary."

The mega-smile again.  "Muy bueno!"

He liked Chaz's room.  "You did say, didn't you, Trey, that
Chaz would be taking his computer and most of his clothing
with him for the summer?"

"Yep."

"So there will be room for my computer and clothing after he
has gone?"

"Yep."

"I also have a large collections of cd's.  You will allow me
to use the impressive-looking music system I saw in the
living room sometimes, yes?"

"Si, amigo."

"Perhaps we can listen to some of them together from time to
time?"

All of this sounded so innocent, but there were sexual vibes
that I was sure I wasn't imagining.  Raul was hot.  I was
beginning to get hard just thinking where this was all
leading after he moved in.  But what if I was wrong,
imagining the whole thing? I needed to take it slow, be cautious.

"Sure, Raul, I'd like to hear some of your cd's.  If you
still want to stay here this summer."

"I can write you a check anytime, amigo, but there's a room
you still have not shown me."

"Yeah?"

"Yes.  I would like to see the room where you sleep."

`Damn!  I can't be imagining this, can I?'  "Just to
complete the tour, so to speak, huh?"

"Yes.  If you wouldn't mind."

So I took him to my room, again leading the way.  As we
entered the room, he put his hand on my ass with his middle
finger parallel to and pressing into my crack.  Well!  The
sexy bastard WAS coming on to me.  I took a step further
into the room, turned, and asked, "How did you know?"

He chuckled.  "We have `gaydar' in Spain, too, you know.  In
fact, we have borrowed that word - in certain circles, that
is.  I have suspected since I first met you."

I must have looked alarmed.  "Not to worry, amigo," he said.
"I am sure that none of our teammates suspects.  But I have
thought - perhaps `hoped' is a better word - that you were
gay for some time now.  Recently, however, you have seemed
different.  Even more comfortable with who you are, a more
commanding presence.  I am not explaining this very well, am
I?  I don't know what has happened in your life in the last
few weeks, but I am happy for you.  And I am eager to know
you better, mi amigo."

I was about to say something, but I didn't get the chance.
Raul pushed me backward onto the bed, jumped on top of me
and began grinding his long, skinny, but very hard cock into
mine.  I had been half-hard already, but that was all it
took for me to get absolutely rigid.

Then, the only way I can describe it is to say that the sexy
fucker began to rape my mouth.  He kept thrusting his tongue
in and out, almost down my throat at times.  Meanwhile, he
was humping me.  When I got over my initial surprise, I got
into what was happening, my tongue dueling with his, our
pelvises working, our dicks banging together.  Raul was
freakin' hot, and it seemed like he couldn't get enough of
me.

I knew Chaz might come home at any minute, but I was so into
what Raul and I were doing I just thought, `fuck it!'  I was
wondering whether to suggest to Raul that we take our
clothes off when he suddenly had his orgasm.  I knew exactly
what was happening.  He put his palms flat on the bed on
either side of me and pushed his upper body up.  That arched
his back and put even more pressure on our dicks.  Then,
muttering something like "Madre de Dios!" he began to shake,
and I knew he was coming.  I think his whole body must have
twitched with every spurt.

As I lay there looking up at his face, the dude opened his
eyes about half way, looked at me, and gave me this very
sexy smile.

"Shit, as you Americans are so fond of saying.  I didn't
mean to come so soon.  I wanted to do that inside you.  I've
wanted to be with you for a long time, you sexy man, you.
Tell, me Trey, do you feel raped?"

"Raul, babe, I didn't exactly fight you off, did I?"

Rolling off of me, he smiled.  "No, dude, you didn't.  So it
was OK then?"

"Well, even though I thought I was getting the right vibes
from you, you did sort of take me by surprise."

"And you would still let me live here this summer?"

"Sure.  But we will have to talk about the sex part, sort of
see how that all plays out, OK?"

"Whatever you want.  I am just happy you aren't angry
because of my impulsive behavior."

"Raul, as you figured out, buddy, I am gay.  Well, bi,
actually.  And I'm not angry.  I just think you should have
given me some choice about what happened.  If you had, I
would probably have been as eager as you seemed to be."

Mega smile time again.  "So if I asked you VERY nicely,
Senor Trey, we might do something like this again some day?"

My turn to smile.   "You can cut the little boy crap, Raul.
But, yeah, dude, only next time, IF we do it, it would be
more fun without our clothes.  Now, I hate to cut this
discussion off.  We have all summer to talk - or whatever --
don't we?  Right now, we have a couple of problems."

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"One is that my big buddy could walk in here at any time.
The other is that you've got a big wet cum spot on the front
of your pants."

He jumped up, looked down at himself, and muttered something
in Spanish I didn't catch.

"Take off your pants and shorts quick.  You can leave them
here, and I'll put them with my laundry.  You'll just have
to wear some of mine.  You can have a pair of my jeans and
go commando if you want."

"Commando?"

"Freeballing, no underwear."

Taking off his jeans and cum-soaked boxers, he smiled at me
again.  His cock was still partly hard. I really wanted to
grab it and suck the last cum out.  Instead, I took them
both, held his boxers to my nose for a minute, and started
to throw them in the laundry basket in my closet.  "Here,
dude, you'd better take the stuff out of your pockets," I
said, handing his jeans back to him.

While he was doing that, I fished a pair of my jeans out of
the closet.  Raul handed me the stained jeans, took the
clean ones I gave him, and put them on.  They were a little
big on him, but they would do.  He left his shirt untucked.
I threw his jeans on top of his boxers in the closet.

We went into the living room.  Pulling his checkbook from
the hip pocket of my jeans, he asked, "Do you want me to
write a check now?"

I grinned.  "So long as you understand you're paying me for
a month's rent, sure."

He caught what I was saying and smiled as he wrote the
check.

Just as he was handing it to me, Chaz burst in the door.

"It looks like you're gonna be my sub this summer, Raul," he
said, grinning.

I think Chaz was about to high five, but Raul offered his
hand to be shaken instead.

"Yes, Chaz.  Thank you for letting me use your room this
summer."

"Well, dude, you can keep an eye on my buddy here.  Don't
let him get into any trouble."

"You can count on me for that," Raul said, flashing his
smile at Chaz.  "Now, my friends, I must go.  Again, I thank
you both.  Trey, I'll see you tomorrow, yes?"

"Sure will, dude."

After saying goodbye to each of us and winking at me, he
left.  Looking longingly at his beautiful ass, I breathed a
big sigh of relief, sticking my hands in my pockets to hide
the fact that I was still pretty much boned up.  I hadn't
gotten to come, after all, and the danger that Chaz might
catch us made the whole thing even hotter.

Chaz went into the living room, flopped down on the sofa,
and turned on the tv.

"Had your dinner?" I asked him.

"Yeah."

I didn't feel like fixing anything, so I grabbed my car
keys.  "See you later."

"Yeah, dude, later," he said, never turning his head.

I drove toward the strip where all the fast food places are.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw The Mermaid, the place
where Chaz had, as he told it, been picked up by Sue-Ann.
On a whim, I parked and went inside.  It was a little early,
so they weren't too crowded.  I sat in a booth in the back.
When the server came, I ordered a burger, fries, and a glass
of merlot.  The guy didn't even card me.  Sometimes I get a
little tired of beer.  My folks introduced me to wine when I
was twelve.  I don't know what the "proper" wine for a
hamburger is, but merlot seemed about right.

The tv over the bar had some panel of heads talking sports,
but I couldn't hear it and began to look around the room.

There were three females in the corner opposite me, and one
of them was Sue-Ann.  They all smiled and waved.  I nodded
back, hoping they wouldn't come over.  They didn't.

The server brought my wine and said the food would be "right
out."  At that hour more people were there for drinks than
for food, some of them university students, others working
people who had stopped on their way home for happy hour.

I sipped my wine, which was the house red and a little
rough, just about right for my mood and for the burger, if
it ever got there.  I glanced again at the three in the
booth in the far corner.  They had their heads together,
laughing about something.  Sue-Ann had a certain obvious
physical appeal, but she looked like what we in Virginia
call "trash."  I know, that's a terrible term, definitely
not p.c.  Ced would give me a hard time if he heard me use
it.  I can't even imagine what Tim would say.  But Chaz,
hard-ass macho bastard that he is, could do better than Sue-
Ann.

Or was I just jealous?   Maybe those two deserved each
other.  What was with him anyway?  What about us, Chaz and
me?  I thought something damn fine had taken place between
us the other night.  Tender.  Sweet.  And now he was acting
like it had never happened.  And he came right out and told
me he had been with Sue-Ann.  What was the bastard trying to
do?  If he was trying to tell me he wasn't interested in sex
with me any more, he was doing a pretty good job of it.
Obviously I had just been an experiment, one that gave
unsatisfactory results, whatever he had said to me at the
time.  Well, fuck him.

Raul would be moving in soon.


                         *          *          *


                            CHAZ:


It'll help that Raul's gonna be payin' my rent for the
summer, though I guess I could have managed that if I had
to.  I'll miss the Tiger, maybe more than he knows.  I think
he'll miss me, too.  After that fuckin' he gave me the other
night, I HOPE he'll miss me.  Maybe I can come back up from
Cincinnati some weekend.  Maybe the Fourth.  Raul seems
cool.  Hey, I'll have to try that out on Trey.  Raul seems
cool.

Funny thing, though.  When I went past Trey's room to get to
mine, I could have sworn I smelled cum.  And didn't Trey
have a stiffie when I came in?  Suppose they had been doin'
it?  After what he and I did the other night?  Well, I HAVE
been with Sue-Ann, and he knows it.  What the fuck do I do
now?


(What DOES Chaz do now?  <G>  Chapter 13 will be posted in
about two weeks.  -Tim)