Date: Mon, 31 May 2010 14:27:30 -0400 (EDT)
From: hardreader2000@aol.com
Subject: Jess' Story, Chapter 8, Part 1

Jess' Story
Chapter 8, Part I
From Paul's viewpoint

I guess I should say right up front that I had a crush on Jess almost from
the moment I even knew he existed. From the very first descriptions of
him. I don't know why exactly. It sounds so juvenile to say that out loud,
but I've always known I had a crush on this guy. I couldn't deny it. Even
before I met him.

When I did finally come face to face with him and discovered that he was
everything I had imagined and more, it was so confusing that he was
involved in some way with Anne. I really didn't have a clue what that was
all about. How did it happen that he left his cum sprayed across the bed in
her room? She didn't even seem to know it was there.

But I have digressed. I probably should just tell you what happened from my
perspective.

I picked Anne up for our date as planned. As much as I wanted to ask her
about what I had smelled and seen in her dorm room earlier that day, I
couldn't. I mean, it was Anne and you can't ask Anne something like
that. You just can't. I was starting to wonder if she even knew what cum
was. Much less that some guy had sprayed a healthy load across one of her
beds.

So we went out, had a good enough time and eventually ended up back outside
her dorm. I was holding her and kissing her, trying to turn this evening
into something it hadn't been. But my mind kept wandering away, looking for
the kid I had seen earlier leaving her dorm. Thinking about the trail of
jizz he'd left behind. Believe me, I was getting really aroused thinking
about it, even as I was kissing Anne. My cock was pressing into her
hip. She had to feel it. I had a gentle motion working and was getting some
good friction. I was getting so hot. Kissing Anne. Thinking about the kid.

I'd gotten off earlier that afternoon fantasizing about how the kid might
have jerked off while Anne was in the shower. I shot a really nice load all
over my window screen. But as I kissed Anne outside her dorm, my fantasy of
what had happened had changed. In my mind she had fished that kid's hard
cock out of his pants and was stroking him off as he lay back. He was
giving himself over completely to whatever she wanted to do with him. With
him and his throbbing cock.

I had begun to imagine myself in his place when . . . Ooops! Anne's hand
grazed across my hard penis. I mean, it was in my pants and all, but just
the same she'd touched it and I didn't think it was by accident. Like my
fantasy sort of coming true. This had happened once before. Not the fantasy
coming true, but Anne's hand touching my hard-on. Once might be an
accident, but twice?

My mind was racing with possibilities. Had I completely misjudged Anne? Was
she a more sexually ambitious girl than I had thought? As I pondered that
and let my mind fly off in wild sexual fantasies, her hand touched my hard
penis again. She didn't take it away.

Instead she wrapped her fingers around my hard-on as though she were
testing its size through the fabric of my pants. My heart stopped. My
breath stopped. Anne began to stroke my throbbing penis through the fabric
of my pants. Once. Twice. . . . Oh my god! . . . Three times she stroked
me. Then she paused.

I let out an audible sigh of pleasure and leaned into her slightly, hoping
to encourage more of the same. With the images of that kid whirling through
my head again, his cum, his look back at me, it wasn't going to take me too
long to get off.

"Did you like that," she said in her sweet, innocent little girl voice.

"Oh yeah," I said and moved to kiss her.

"I'm so glad I could bring you some special pleasure tonight," Anne said as
she turned and pushed open her dorm door. "Goodnight," she said over her
shoulder, leaving me hard and horny and incredibly pissed and confused. Was
this some kind of joke? Or tease? Was she really that clueless?

No, Anne couldn't be clueless. She sure wasn't too clueless to get that kid
off in her dorm room in the middle of the day. But still she left me with
an aching hard-on out on her dorm stoop. Had I missed something?

Then at lunch the next day . . .

Just a little porn humor. I know that you want to know what I did with the
hard-on Anne left me with. I've read enough of these stories to know it's
my turn to tell.

OK, so I went back to my place, working on my hard cock all the way home. I
started with my hands deep in the pockets of my pants. I was working my
meat. Making sure it stayed good and hard. I liked the way that felt. My
sensitive, over-sexed, crazy cock in my hands. Only the thin pocket fabric
separated flesh from flesh. And the fabric was so thin and soft from
longtime use, it was almost like lube on my penis.

There was virtually no one out on the streets, so there was no one to see
what I was doing. As horny as I was and with thoughts of this kid messing
with my mind, I unzipped my pants and worked my cock free. It would have
been perfectly obvious to anyone who had seen me that I was jerking myself,
but, as I said, there really wasn't anyone around.

When I got up to my little space, I stripped off all my clothes. I looked
at myself in the mirror. I looked pretty good. All my work was paying
off. I thought I looked especially good with my hard cock arching out in
front of me. It was nicely proportioned and made my newly tightened abs
look that much better as a backdrop for it.

I smacked it with my open hand a couple of times to get it maximum hard. I
really like feeling aching hard.

When my penis was pumped to the max, I stroked it with my right hand,
feeling my fingers curl around it. Drumming on the underside with my
fingertips. I let my left hand play across my chest, feeling my hair
stubble just starting to grow out. Not too much but enough to feel sexy. At
least to me.

I squeezed my right nipple. Twisted it. I could feel the connection. That
squeeze had sent a jolt from my nipple to my cock. I could toy with my
nipple, turn it like a dial, and feel the blood surge into my cock. I loved
doing that.

The human body is an amazing thing. The way the parts all connect and
interact. The feelings you can create. I worked my cock with both
hands. One on my penis and one on my nipple.

I was so turned on. I grabbed my big bottle of lube and lay on my bed. I
could feel the heat in the room. The heat and humidity of summer. But mixed
with that of course I could feel my own heat. Sexual heat.

Without warning Anne popped back in my mind. I wasn't really pissed at Anne
or anything. I wasn't' really into her. I just found what had happened
today too confusing. And thoughts of Anne were forcing their way forward in
my brain.

I tried to work on my cock. Wrapping my right hand around my cockhead and
twisting my sweaty palm back and forth across the most sensitive part of my
body. I tried to focus on the kid I had seen. The scent of his cum. The
fantasy I had earlier when I shot a good load of jizz at my window just
thinking of him in Anne's dorm room.

It wasn't working. I was hard. It felt good. But it was too confusing. Not
satisfying. I wanted something more.

So I got up and turned on my computer, signed in to one of my favorite porn
sites and started to read one of my favorite fantasy stories about Justin
and Chris, Two high school athletes who shared a lot more than their
interest in sports. Just the kind of story that is virtually sure to get me
off. Part 12. That part always worked for me. I was reading
along. Jerking. Edging. I knew my favorite part was coming. But I was
already so close.

". . . his hands traveled south and undid my belt, which he threw to the
ground. My pants were next, first the button then the zipper and they too
fell atop the pile of clothes already gathered on the floor. Lucky for him
I decided to free ball so his work was done. My cock too, stood erect. I
mean how could it not. His hands gently massaged my cock taking care to
cover every spot, while at the same time he kissed his way down my
stomach. I felt his breath hit my cock and I felt a shiver come across my
entire body, already I was in ecstasy. And before I could say anything his
lips wrapped around me and he sucked the whole of it into his mouth.  My
cock had been hard for almost two hours by then. . . ."

The anticipation of reading one of my favorite chapters of "Shower With My
Brother's Friend" had my nuts worked up in anticipation. This happened to
me far too often. As Justin felt a shiver come across his entire body, I
felt my own shiver start. And when Chris "wrapped his lips around me and he
sucked the whole of it into his mouth . . ."

I could feel his lips on my penis. The pressure building deep within my
nuts. An ache throbbing somewhere in the center of me. I could feel my hand
sliding in the lube. Caressing my hard, throbbing cock. Urging on the
surging cum. I was going to . . . Oh yeah . . . I started to cum.

I wanted to see my cum shooting from my penis. Shooting out of my pouting
cocklips and flying free. I wasn't disappointed. I splattered my chest and
got some on my pillow just over my shoulder. As always, there was an errant
string of cum that went to the left and landed near my nipple.

My neck craned to give me the best view possible. It felt so sexy seeing my
rock hard penis jerking and twitching with the excitement of my orgasm. My
thick cum spurting out in a half dozen volleys. Splattering against my
flesh. My hard abs glistening with sweat. It felt so good to finally
release that built up tension. To feel the pleasure surge through my
cock. So strong a feeling.

I let my head fall back on my pillow. I caught my breath and then surveyed
the mess I'd made with my fingertips. Slipping and sliding across my
body. Almost tickling myself, but mostly just keeping that erotic sensation
stirring within me.

I guess I fell asleep enjoying the moment. Forgetting what had brought it
all on.

I was thinking about that kid when I awoke. If I'd been having a dream
about him, I couldn't remember it. But he was foremost in my mind. And he
stayed there most of the morning.

At lunch that day . . . So was that good enough? Can I go on with the story
now? I hope you guys liked my big sex scene. Anyway . . .

At lunch that day I was sitting in my favorite lunch spot just finishing
eating when Anne came in. I had all kinds of questions I wanted to ask her,
but I knew I never would. At least I would get to see how she reacted
toward me after walking away from me last night. Leaving me . . . Well,
I've already told you that part.

She came up and greeted me all smiles and niceness. Acted like nothing had
happened. Said she had a good time. Hoped we could do it again soon. Then
she said she was meeting Jess for lunch. She talked like she'd mentioned a
guy named Jess to me before. Like I should know who he was. But I didn't
really.

The next thing I knew, there he was. It was the kid from outside her
dorm. The one with the cum I could smell in her room. The one I've been
jerking off to. And he was standing there looking down at me. Did he
recognize me from the day before? I was completely flustered. Did he know
who I was? Did he know I couldn't get him out of my mind? The most obvious
explanation never occurred to me for some reason until Anne said, "Hi,
Jess, this is my friend Paul."

Of course, he hadn't come over to my table to see me. Anne was the reason
he was there. She was meeting him for lunch. He hadn't come over to see me
at all. I felt a little disappointed and a little relieved all at the same
time. But did he recognize me? I wondered.

He sat down and we chatted for a minute or two. I don't remember a word any
of us said. I just remember him saying something and then he smiled at
me. I know I blushed. I couldn't help it. I felt like he must know I'd been
jerking off thinking about him. Then I had to go. I really wanted to stay,
but it was obvious they had something they needed to talk about. I wondered
if it had to do with yesterday afternoon. I didn't have a clue.

So I left and wandered around campus for an hour or two. I was feeling
really lonely and sort of like an outsider. It sounds stupid but I really
just wanted to stay and get to know this guy. Maybe figure out what his
deal was with Anne. Obviously it was more than I had going on.

I probably jerked off twice at my place that afternoon and evening. I had
some reading and a paper to do, but mostly I sat around reading porn and
thinking about that kid. His name was Jess. He looked as good close up as
he had when I saw him crossing the street. Better actually. I loved his
smile. It showed a side of him that was almost like wicked or
something. Like maybe ha had a dark side.

When I was reading porn and jerking off to stories, I was putting his face
and what I imagined of his body into my fantasies. That's what was
happening when Anne called.

She said she wanted to talk to me about something. If I wasn't too busy
. . . I looked down at my aching boner. Slick with lube. Red from hours of
being worked over. Throbbing to get off one more time to fantasies of Jess.

"Give me 30 minutes or so," I said, already stroking my hard penis at a
finishing pace. I knew the time for edging had passed.

When she opened the door to her dorm room, I have got to admit I tried to
see if I could smell him. Smell his cum, I mean. But I couldn't smell
anything. At least no cum smell.

We quickly got through the "Hi, how are you" part of the conversation. I
could tell immediately that Anne was mad or pissed or something.

"So what's that matter? You seem upset," I said.

"It's Jess," she started, "he . . ."

"What did he do to you?"

She started to cry. I put my arm around her and we sat on the edge of her
bed. I comforted her until she pulled herself together and then she
explained.

Jess had asked her to read something he'd written. A story he wrote about
himself when he was in high school and apparently trying to figure out if
he was gay or bi or whatever. Those aren't the words Anne used, of course,
but that was the gist of it.

He said the story had gotten onto the Internet and a lot of people had read
it, but apparently no one knew it was by him or about him. He had kept it a
secret ever since. Never telling anyone about what he had written or
done. For some reason that she didn't explain, he thought he finally might
want to show it to his friends instead of keeping it a secret.

I didn't know why, but he'd asked Anne . . . Anne of all people . . . go
figure . . . to read what he had written so she could give him her opinion.

I guess she had tried to read it and couldn't get even halfway through
it. It upset her too much. That's when she'd called me.

She handed me a manila folder with a few sheets of paper in it. I started
to open it to take a look at it. I was curious to say the least. So good
ol' Jess had at least toyed with the idea of doing something with other
boys. I really wanted to know whether he'd enjoyed it or not. Was it
possible we were playing for the same team?

But as I started to open the folder, Anne let out a sharp, "No!" Her hand
pressed on the back of mine, closing the folder and almost knocking it from
my hand.

"Could you take it home and read it? I don't think I could stand to sit
here while you read what's in there," she said.

I immediately started to get nervous about why Anne had thought I was the
person to read it. Why not throw it away? Or just give it back to him and
say she couldn't finish it? I almost panicked as I began to wonder if she
had some idea that I was gay, or bi or curious? She'd never shown any
indication that she doubted me, but . . .

"It doesn't sound like anything I'd planned to read today," I said,
gathering my thoughts and my composure as best I could. "So what am I
supposed to do once I've read it?"

"Just call me and tell me what you thought." She couldn't even look me in
the eyes as she talked. "I'm not going to tell Jess I had you read it, but
I just can't do it myself. So I need you to tell me what I should tell
him. OK? You can call me a little later and let me know. OK?" Anne looked
sad and hurt and like she might start crying again.

I really didn't want to spend any more time comforting her and I really
wanted to see what Jess had written that was so . . . whatever . . . that
Anne couldn't even read it.

I rushed back to my place and sat in front of my computer, pushing my
keyboard aside and opening the folder. Four typed pages. Unnumbered. No
title. Nothing but four printed pages.

The second I started to read, I couldn't believe it.

"I thought I knew what real friends were, how friendship worked. I thought
I knew what friends were for and what friends did and didn't do. I thought
I knew a lot of things."

I'd read it before. More than once. A lot more than once. The first four
words said it all.

But this didn't make any sense.

To Be Continued . . .