Message-ID: <074310Z30101994@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an80382@anon.penet.fi
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Organization: Anonymous contact service
Reply-To: an80382@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sun, 30 Oct 1994 07:37:29 UTC
Subject: GayBlade! {mm}
Lines: 238
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[ifq03.txt, "GayBlade!"]
GayBlade
Oh, I love to go skateing. A lot. It is such a neat exercise
to get out on a pair of high speed blades and ride about the city,
through tunnels, under bridges, off of stairs. It makes my day,
anyway.
Of course, between studying for my damned English class (well
it isn't studying as much as it is READING AND READING AND
READING), and working (at a gas station), I had little time but on
the weekends to go out and do some skating. But of course, when
somthing you love only happens on a very seldom occasion, it
intensifies the pleasure.
ANYWAY...I lived in the third tower of our dorms at ITU. I
wasn't an RA or anything, just an old dorm rat. I lived way up on
the top floor, primarilay because hights give me a rush, and the
view of the city was great, and I had almost instant acsess to the
roof. Not to mention I love the sound of rain when I sleep at
night, and that happend RIGHT over my head several times a month,
which was very nice indeed.
Well, the weekends rolled around quick enough, four times a
month, and when they did, I would always ask sombody to skate with
me. I really don't enjoy skating as much on my own as I do with a
friend (I really DO feel kind of silly tooling around town on
blades by myself, it makes the towns folks think I am on skates
just so I can get to work or somthing, like I don't have a car!!)
So then I would always ask some guy to go with me. Of course, I
would always ask a CUTE guy, primarly because I knew it was so damn
hot outside, and he'd end up taking off his shirt and wrapping it
casually around his waist, as most cute guys do, cause they KNOW
that chicks dig looking at a nice body.
Most weekends when I went skating then, I got to look at some
guys nice body, maybe sit next to him in the park, or I would buy
him a Pepsi or somthing. But that was really all, and I did accept
it that way. I knew damn well that almost every guy at our dorm
was straight. It was almost ALWAYS that way. When you get picky
about looking at certain types of guys, like I do, your chances of
finding a GAY guy is next to nil. Of course, if you end up
choosing most of your buddies on their looks, you DO end up being
surrounded a lot of the times by some really cute people. And
being in that company made up for the fact that I wasn't getting
laid at ALL.
Well, it happend that I would ask a guy named Steve to go
skating with me about twice a month. He was also in my English
class (and my pre-med class) and he actually had a thing for wheels
like I did. So he always said "Yeah, sure. I'll go with you." As
time wears on then, Steve became one of my better friends. We
studied together all the time as well. Quite frankley, my habits
were miserble, and he was dedicated and habitual in his studies.
I figured then that one day I would work in his doctors office...as
his secretary or janitor. But he wouldn't hear of that, not even
my wisecracks about my miserble study habits. He layed guilt trips
on me left and right so that I'd study with him Oh, and thanks to
him, my G.P.A. was raised several points. But that is beside the
point.
I had somthing he DIDN'T have. A REALLY nice computer. A
PowerMac, with a 21 inch color monitor, and a video input and
capture board and all kinds of other options (My dad was a Neuro-
Surgeon, he pulled in QUITE a bundle). So I let Steve use my
machine all the time. Of course, the reason is that I had ordered
several software packages that had to do with the study of the
human body and medicine. So it was benificial to both of us to use
it.
Of course, I did OTHER things on my computer. For instance,
I ALWAYS downloaded sexually explicit material from the net systems
our school had acsess to. Pictures and stories and such. I also
had some gay videos that I kept locked in a safe in my room. When
the need arised, I could watch them on my computer because it had
a VCR hooked into it. I could also STORE some of the "better"
parts of these videos on the hard drive. All of it was, of course,
stored in a single folder called "X-Ton-at". Sounded pretty un-
suspicious to me. It was LOCKED, with a password...ROLLERBLADE.
Dumbass me, I should have kept it all on a tape in my safe. But X-
Generation me had to have INSTANT gratification. Of course, it has
a happy ending for me, anyway.
So one weekend when Steve and I went out skating, he came out
of his room without his shirt on at all. I was curious, usually it
is human nature to be clothed untill you are too damn hot. But
hey, Steve was NICE to look at. NICE indeed. Okay, GORGEOUS. He
was a Christian slater looking type, not very tall at all, and trim
as hell, and a dark rug of hair on his chest. Now I have heard the
term "bear" before, used to describe hairy men. Not being active in
the gay community, I wasn't really sure what it meant completley,
but the term led me to think of men that were, uh, kind of HEAVY.
This was DEFINATLY not he case. He ws one of those guys that kind
of matched the deco-art stick figure drawings of men shaped like
triangles, with a pointed waist and wide shoulders. But he wasn't,
like that guy on the Solo-Flex ads, he was classified by me as boy
next store+gorgeous. And I was HAPPY to have him as my buddy.
So the two of us went out into the city on our blades, up
through the buisness district, to the theater, downtown, to the
park, around the lake and fields, and the we decided to sit down
back in a small woods like patch that overlooked the lake. I was
quite hot, and I guess I looked like it. I had patches of sweat
under my arms and on my chest. Steve's whole chest was covered in
a nice sheen of sweat (sweat or oil, it all makes the male body SO
much more attractive, but sweat is more fun to lick off his
nipples). So he says "Goddamn it's fucking hot out here!".
"Yeah, it sure is hell is. I'm gonna take this thing off and
wring it out.", I said. So I took off my shirt and wrung it out.
It was actuallly not wet enough to drip, but it was kind of a
reflex reaction, traditional man activities to wring out a sweaty
shirt during a sport type activity. We also took off our skates
and tied the laces together so we could sling them over our
shoulders. The dorm wans't a far walk away, and it was moslty
grass. My feet were too tired and hot to skate any more anyway.
Well, somthing in him twitched, so I thought, cause he started
complining about a back pain. He tried to reach back and rub a
spot in his mid-back. "I think it's my rhomboids..", a muscle of
which I was SURE I had seen in a diagram of the muscle structure of
the back. But I was definatly inclined to think it was a more
generic term, and definatly not a specific muscle. Anyway, I said
"right here?" and touched his back where it appeared he was trying
to reach.
"Yeah that's it."
"Oh, DEFINATLY the ROMBOIDS." I said in a sarcastic tone. I
had no clue anyway. I put all of my fingers on the spot of his
back that he said hurt, and I pressed in, and massaged that spot
for a few seconds. The sweat from his body lubricated my little
back massage for him. I knew he wasn't looking, and I licked the
sewat off my fingers. I actually felt kind of guilty, like I was
raping him or somthing.
But anyway, after a few seconds of me rubbing that spot on his
back, he stood up and streched. Then he walked behind me, and said
"I'm going to take a piss, I'll be back in a second." He walked
back into the small cluster of pine trees that was behind us. I
sat and continued to look into the lake, wondering if it was
actually WRONG for me to want this guy so much. I wondered about
this often, if I was taking advantage of people because they looked
good. My deepest internal conflict was dealing with the idea that
I might not have any REAL friends. That NONE of them were actually
my friends because I enjoyed their company, but because I enjoyed
their bodies. In reality, of course, I was nuts. It was their
bodies that attracted me to them in the FIRST place, it was their
company that kept me going back to be with them. But somtimes this
enlightining concept eluded me, especially when I was with sombody
I really wanted, but couldn't touch.
I must not of been paying attention or somthing, because Steve
actually DID come back in what seemed like a second. But I sure
didn't hear him. He was in bare feet anyway, and he was dead
silent. All I saw was a shadow in front of me which approched REAL
quick, before I heard Steve sit down directly behind me, and he did
it VERY quick.
He slapped both his hands down on my shoulders, in that
masculine way that two straight guys might show affection for each
other. Only his hands did not leave my shoulders. In fact the
stayed there and tightened up. Then he pulled me back just a tad.
Not being his intention to yank me back, he was just getting up on
his knees and leaning forward, because he put his mouth right next
to my ear.
"Can I ask you a PERSONAL question?"
"Uh, sure, I guess."
"What exactly are you keeping all that stuff on your computer
for? All those guy pictures and stories and crap?"
I was of course shocked as hell. I didn't even know he knew
how to do anything besides what I taught him how to do.
"There was password on there, you should have made it somthing
less obvious, like 'swisscheese' or somthing totally ambiguous.
'rollerblade' was quite easy to guess you know."
"Yeah, I guess it was."
His hands still did not losen their grip on my shoulders.
"Tell me somthing then. Out of ALL the guys in T3 (tower
three, where we lived) WHICH would you like to have most?"
"Huh?" As if I was denying that I comprehended what he was
getting at.
He moved his mouth closer to me ear, and in his hot breath he
whispered, extremely quickly, like he was preturbed that I would
pretend I didn't understand his request for me to express my sexual
desires, "Okay. Take this fantasy then. 'John Doe' goes out
running. A mile or two on a nintey degree day, with his shirt off
and a pair of lycra running shorts on. He runs back to the front
steps, and you are sitting on the bench by the door. You follow
him up and into his room. You close the door behind you. You go
over to him and you kiss him on his mouth. He slides his tongue
into your mouth and you hang there for a second. Then you lower
down and lick the sweat on his stomach and underarms and his tan
sweaty chest and his nipples. He says "suck me,now" and you drop
to your knees and slide his shorts off. He slips his own shoes off
and you take his hard cock into your mouth. You suck hime as hard
and as best as you can, untill he comes into your mouth. Then he
tells you to stand up. He slides your shirt off you, and then
lowers your shorts. You remove your shoes and then kick your
shorts against the wall. He pulls you up against his steaming hot,
sweaty body. Your arms slide down around his back and to his ass.
Your hard nipples are pressed against his, and his sweat lets your
bodies glide over each other like silk. He kisses you on your eyes
and you close them, and he whispers "I love you". You let all your
weight fall into his arms, and then you kiss again. Then he slides
his hand down, and wraps it around your cock, and slowly, while
standing in front of you with his tongue in your mouth, jerks you
off until you come. Do you understand THAT?"
"Yes." I said.
"Good." He slowly lowered his arms down around my front, and
linked his fingers across my chest. "Now who are the people that
you would really like John Doe to be? How about Andy?"
"Bill."
"Ryan?"
"Alex."
"Jeff?"
"Keith."
"Chris?"
"Rob."
"Tony?"
"No...I want you to be John Doe." I said in my most humble,
quiet voice.
Then he kissed me on the neck. I turned my head to the side,
and he kissed me on the lips. "My name isn't John Doe, but I still
love you Mike. Let's go home...", he said.
I'm glad we had taken our skates off earlier and had decided
we were too tired to skate anymore, because then we got to walk
home hand in hand.
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