Message-ID: <173302Z18061995@anon.penet.fi>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an151170@anon.penet.fi (...Mercury....)
X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories
Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Reply-To: an151170@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sun, 18 Jun 1995 17:24:49 UTC
Subject: ThanksGiving (M/M)
Lines: 371

z    Another erotic story extracted from the vast archives of
z
z                  ...   /\/\  e  r  c  u  r  y    ...
z
z                     Proud Purveyor of Pornoverby!
z
z     Notes :
z
z          1.  I did not write this story;
z          2.  I do not know the author;
z          3.  If you like it, tell me so, but don't ask for sequels;
z          4.  Why not post a story yourself?
z          5.  Are you a biW/A m/f 18-24 looking for friends? Hmm? Write.
z          6.  Vote in the next election and run the Coalition out!
z          7.  Enjoy life while you can, because you're going to DIE!

A Real Thanksgiving

    Terry sat on the edge of the bed, feeling both sorry
for and pleased with himself.  Here it was, Tuesday
afternoon before Thanksgiving, everybody else was packing
up, heading home to a fantastic holiday, and he was stuck in
Oxford, Mississippi, with nothing better to do than watch
blurred cable television, and count the tiles in the ceiling
of his dorm room.  It would be boring alright, but it sure
as Hell beat the idea of going home for the holidays and
getting caught in the middle of World War III.

    When both your parents are prominent surgeons with a
busy schedule and demanding practice, it's bad enough.  But
when they decide it's time to split the sheets after 23
years of married life, and each of them focuses all their
energies on proving he (or she) is right and good and she
(or he) is wrong and truly an asshole, there's not enough
tea in China to make it worth a trip home.  Terry had had to
go to the dean's office to get special permission to stay in
the dorm over the holiday, and all Hell had broken loose
when he told his dad (and later, separately, his mother)
that he wouldn't be home.  But it beat the shit out of
constantly being pressured to take sides in an argument he
knew little about and certainly couldn't understand.
Neither of his parents claimed that the other had been
sleeping around, and as far as he could tell, nothing was
any different now than it had been all his life.

    "Well, shit, forget it, and get this stink washed off,"
he muttered to himself as he got up to get a shower.  He'd
had a good run this afternoon, but he'd been sitting in his
room for about an hour, mulling the situation, and he was
starting to smell a little "ripe."  He started shucking his
running clothes, glancing over at his image in the full
length mirror his vain roommate had hung on the back of the
door.  Standing there wearing nothing but a running brief
that showed his ass, cock, and balls as clearly as if they'd
been transparent, he knew why he drew the admiring glances
of so many girls.  He'd had more than a few tell him how
sexy his ass was, and he was proud of the well-muscled,
slightly rounded twin globes that stood apart in that sexy
way.  The only problem was he wasn't interested in the
girl's glances, and outside of a couple of furtive blow jobs
from middle-aged accountant-types at the local bookstore,
he'd never attracted any other attention.  "Wouldn't it be
great if you got the same attention from Stan, or some of
his friends?" he thought to himself, the visions of his sexy
roommate adding to the bulge in his running brief.  One
thing about it, Stan might be an asshole, but he was a sexy
asshole, he thought to himself as he shucked the brief and
turned to look in the mirror as he gently worked his dick.

    "It's not as long as Stan's," he thought to himself, as
he stared at the hot young stud in the mirror, "but it's
definitely fatter, and it looks better too."  Not quite 7"
long, it was ramrod straight when fully hard, poking
straight out, with a widely flared, mushroom shaped head.
He'd been circumcised at birth, but the surgeon was
obviously tired, because he'd left enough skin to cover
about half the head when Terry was soft, and enough to add
an interesting bulge behind the crown when he was hard.  His
balls were average in size, but hung really low in an almost
hairless sac, accenting the cock in just the right way.
Combine that with a sexy ass, a 5'11" body devoid of fat and
with enough muscle to look manly without looking like a gym
freak, and Terry knew he was way ahead of a lot of guys.
"But if I'm so far ahead, why is it that I beat off alone,
night after night?"  He shook his head, wrapped his towel
around himself, realizing that the mostly hard cock would
show when he walked out in the hall, but since nobody was
around, what difference did it make?

    He walked down the hall to the empty shower, hung his
towel on the hook, and was soon enjoying the feel of the hot
spray running over his body.  As he washed himself, his
thoughts returned to Stan, and to guys in general.  Almost
without realizing it, the soaping he was giving his dick and
balls turned into light, easy, masturbation, his cock
jumping to about 3/4 hardness in no time.  He'd almost
decided to beat his meat right there when he heard the hall
door open, and someone else enter the foyer to the shower.
Terry thumped his cock hard, hurting himself, but forcing
that dick down out of sight, wondering who in the Hell could
be showing up at such an inopportune time.  In about a
minute, a guy Terry knew only as Steve walked in and took
the shower across the way.  Steve seemed nice enough, but
was pretty much a loner, and Terry had never learned much
except his name, and that he was a history major.  He'd
never seen him in the shower before, and that was clearly
Terry's loss.  Even in November, Steve's body was still
deeply tanned, the stark whiteness of his hot-looking ass
providing stark contrast.  Terry couldn't tell much about
the guy's dick, but he knew it was long, because when Steve
spread his feet far apart he could see the head of what was
obviously a long tool swinging between his legs.

    "Enough of this shit, guy, you're gonna wind up with a
hard on in the shower," Terry thought to himself as he
hurriedly shampooed his hair.  When he rinsed out the
shampoo and opened his eyes, Steve had turned to face him,
letting the hot water run over his back, and Terry got the
first look at that gorgeous cock.  It had to be 5, maybe 5
1/2 inches soft, and Terry's imagination was running wild
dreaming what it would look like hard, how it might feel if
he could just suck it.  His own dick was back as big as it
was gonna get before it got stiff, and Terry first started
to leave, then decided to turn off the hot water, let the
cold water hide his "problem" and stay for a quick view.

    "I thought I'd be the only one in the dorm over the
holidays from what the dean said," Terry said, putting on
one of his best "just one of the guys smiles" as he stared
at Steve's hot, slightly hairy chest.

    "Well, the dean doesn't exactly know I'm here, and I
hope you'll keep it that way," Steve said, each word uttered
deliberately and slowly as though somebody was charging him
by the syllable.

    "Sure, man, that's cool.  Only reason I'm here is my
folks are in the middle of a divorce, and I didn't want to
get caught in the shit," Terry said as he turned off the
shower and headed toward the drying room.  Steve was right
behind him.  As they began to towel off, Steve continued his
reluctant articulation.  "My folks moved to Minnesota last
summer, and I can't afford to fly home this week, then again
in just 2 1/2 weeks.  I didn't tell the dean I was staying
for the holiday because they don't know I'd have far to go,
and I want to keep it like that, so I don't get nailed for
out of state tuition," he said.  Steve had finished drying
off, and had masked the objects of Terry's desire with a
worn, but effective, white towel that prominently read
"Property of Holiday Inn."

    "I'll see ya around," Terry said as Steve headed to the
door.  "Sure," Steve muttered as he walked out, in a way
that was neither friendly nor unfriendly, but made it clear
that the conversation had ended.

    Terry headed back to the room, got out his favorite
fuck mag, and flipped through the cum-stained pages as he
slowly, deliciously beat his meat and dreamed of what it
would be like to suck that gorgeous hunk of dick attached to
Steve's midsection.  He was in no particular hurry to shoot,
but when he started playing with his nips, caressing his
balls, and rubbing the crack of his ass, it seemed only
seconds before thick, hot wads of man goo spewed out of his
joyful cock onto his belly.  Terry lay there lazily for a
minute, then wiped some of the cum up on his finger, and
licked it off.  It tasted neither good nor bad, but it was
sexy to pretend that one day -- hopefully before long, he'd
be eating another man's hot cum instead of his own.

    Suddenly, Terry realized he was hungry, and he got up,
wiped himself clean with a rag he kept under the mattress
just for that purpose, and hurriedly dressed and brushed his
hair.  He'd made it downstairs and was headed toward the
door when he heard cursing coming from the vending room, and
the sound of a well-placed vicious kick rocking the
offending machine.  He stepped over to the doorway, and
looked in to see Steve so mad his face was the color of a
fire engine.  "What's the matter, guy?" he asked, surprised
that the loss of fifty cents could piss a guy off that
badly.

    "Every eating place close to campus is closed for the
holiday, so I've got to rely on microwave shit to eat and
these cokes to drink.  Looks like there won't be any Coke
drinking," Steve said, still clearly pissed.

    "Hey I'm on my way over to the Cracker Barrel to get a
bite to eat, you want to come with me?"

    There was a brief hesitation, a look of indecision, and
then Steve said, "Yeah, sure, maybe getting away from here
will do me good."

    The ten minute ride to the Cracker Barrel was silent,
and Terry made no effort to change it.  Clearly, something
was bugging Steve, and he figured it was none of his
business.  The same silence was broken only occasionally as
they ate, mostly with comments about sports, the sort of
litany that passes for conversation between two guys who
really don't know each other.  After they'd eaten, and paid,
and made about half the trip back to campus in the same non-
committal silence, Steve's mood changed slightly and he
began to be a little more -- but only a little more --
talkative.

    Terry figured any company was better than none, and was
sorry when they walked in the dorm, marking his return to
solitude.

    "If you can stand the blurs they call cable in Oxford,
you're welcome to come to the room and watch TV," he said,
expecting a "Thanks but no thanks" type answer.

    "Yeah, I guess I could stop by a while, there's sure as
shit nothing else to do," came the surprising response.

    They settled in, Terry on his bed, Steve on Stan's, as
they channel surfed through Cosby and three or four other
shows.  As the minutes and stupid sitcoms ticked off, so did
Steve's guard, and after a while he seemed almost -- but not
quite -- friendly.  Terry glanced often toward Steve,
checking out what little he could see, making sure the
basket looked as good as he thought it would, noticing how
Steve's eyes sparkled, how his hair shone, how his skin
looked so supple, as he rattled on and on about football.
After wearing out the sports subject, Terry turned to the
other "old faithful:" girls.  "You dating anyone special
right now?"

    "No, I'm not seeing anyone now," came the response.

    "The facts, ma'am, just the facts," in Joe Friday's
voice thundered through Terry's head, and he was laughing
before he knew it, the incongruous combination of Dragnet
and his own "queer" desires seeming hilarious to him.  He
didn't even realize he was laughing until Steve asked
"What's so funny?" in a slightly pissed-off tone of voice.

    "Oh, nothing, it's a private joke that it takes a
warped sense of humor to understand," Terry covered.  "It's
probably the result of going without pussy so long," he
added.

    Steve didn't reply, except to ask Terry to change the
channel.  "I hope I didn't piss you off, I wasn't laughing
at you because you're not getting any right now.  God knows,
it's been a long, long time since anybody besides Rosie Palm
gave me any," Terry said, trying to restore the friendly
atmosphere from a few minutes before.

    "Look, let's just drop it, okay?" was Steve's only
response.

    "Hey man, that's cool.  I just wanted you to know that
I was in the same boat you were," Terry murmured, kicking
himself for laughing in a way that was so easily
misinterpreted.

    Steve didn't say anything, he just got up and headed to
the door.  As he opened it and started out into the hall,
Terry thought it was worth one more shot, "Look man, I know
I pissed you off, but I really didn't mean to, and I'd tell
you what I was laughing about, but it wouldn't make sense to
somebody else.  Give it a rest, guy."

    Steve turned and looked at Terry, the emotion burning
in his being clearly not anger, but one Terry couldn't
identify.  "Look, it always turns out like this.  So I just
as well go ahead and get it over with.  I'm not getting any
pussy right now, true enough.  But the reason I'm not going
out with anybody is the same reason you guys call me a
"loner."  It's because I would only date a guy.  I'm gay,
homo, queer as a three dollar bill.  I don't advertise it,
but be damned if I'll lie about it.  I may die a virgin to
anything but my own fist, but that's the way it is.  So it's
best if I go now," he almost yelled as he walked out the
door, slamming it behind him.

    Terry was in a state of shock.  "Here's another guy
like me!" was singing in one part of his brain, while the
other part was yelling "You can't let ANYBODY know."

    After about 20 minutes of arguing with himself, Terry
was shocked to realize he was walking down the hall toward
Steve's room.  It was almost like watching television as he
watched his fist knock on the door, and it sounded like a
replay over poor speakers as he heard his own voice asking
Steve, "Can we talk?"

    Somehow, some way, he managed to spit out the truth.
"Look, I don't want you thinking I was judging you.  I've
had the hots for you ever since I saw you in the shower, and
I just wanted you to know you aren't alone.  If there's
anything I can do to help you, let me know.  I hope we can
be friends, because it's bound to be tough for both of us."

    It was childish and it was stupid, but Steve and Terry
hugged one another and cried tears of relief for many
minutes.  Finally, somebody knew their darkest secret, and
the ground hadn't opened up to swallow them into Hell.  The
silence was broken only by the sniffles until finally,
Steve, pushed back from Terry and said, "Would you hold me?"

    The two guys lay down on the bed, still fully clothed,
drawing the other to himself tightly, shielding him from the
world and reality for the time being.  Their clothes seemed
to evaporate, as they gently undressed one another, novice
hands fumbling with a manhood other than their own, seeking
to convey the pleasure they'd wanted all their lives.
Finally, Terry felt himself roll on top of Steve, his hard
cock pressed firmly against Steve's own rigid man meat,
their balls grinding together, their tongues dueling.

    After a few minutes of this intense, forbidden
pleasure, Terry slithered down Steve's body, licking a trail
from his lips to his neck, then down to his nipples, where
he tongued and chewed and sucked until they took on the
appearance of BB's.  As his new-found partner groaned, he
slid on down licking across the chest and upper stomach
until he came to Steve's tight, tiny belly button, which he
fucked back and forth with his tongue as Steve continued to
cry out in pleasure.  Finally, he worked up his nerve, slid
down a little further and tentatively took the head of
Steve's hot dick in his mouth.

    It was all Terry had dreamed it would be and more, as
he felt the spongy, resilient flesh of Steve's cockhead
caress the velvety recesses of his mouth.  At first, he
gagged just a little, but he soon found a pace that allowed
him to slide up and down on the upper portion of those hot 8
inches, while his hand slowly and gently stroked the bottom
of the shaft.  After a while, Steve's groans had almost
changed to a scream of pleasure, as Terry explored the piss
slit of this first cock with his tongue tip, and laved the
sensitive underside of the dick with his ever-roving tongue.
He could feel Steve's dick swelling and twitching as he
rapidly approached orgasm, and Terry was determined to take
more and more of that hot cock deep into himself.  He
changed the angle of his head slightly and forced more of
the thick fuckmeat into his mouth, letting it bounce against
the back of his throat one moment, then rubbing against the
velvet of his jaws the next.

    "I'm gonna cum," Steve yelled, pushing on Terry's head
to force him away, but Terry was determined to finish this
task he'd started and began to pump his head up and down
furiously on that lovely dick as he worked Steve's balls
with one hand and the base of his cock with the other.
Terry couldn't get over how good it felt to suck another
man.  In only seconds, he felt Steve's hot spray in his
mouth in such huge quantities that he was surprised, and
small amounts escaped Terry's hungry mouth to run out around
the edges of Steve's cock and dribble down his chin.  He
continued to suck, gently working that instrument of
pleasure until finally, Steve was completely spent.  Only
then did he realize that his own dick had spewed its juice
all over the bed and Steve's legs.

    Steve was almost comatose in the after-throes of their
pleasure.  Terry just grinned, lay out on top of his new
lover again, kissed him deep, feeding Steve droplets of his
own cum as he whispered, "You know, if we practice, we might
get pretty good at this."


----------------------------------------------------------------------------
To find out more about the anon service, send mail to help@anon.penet.fi.
If you reply to this message, your message WILL be *automatically* anonymized
and you are allocated an anon id. Read the help file to prevent this.
Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to admin@anon.penet.fi.