Date: Wed, 28 Mar 2001 12:58:32 EST
From: BmorebsballDan@aol.com
Subject: Straight Boys Sean and Dan

Hey fellas. I've been reading stories on Nifty for awhile. But the other
day my buddy Kyle from on-line asked me about my first time. So I figured
I'd write it as a story. Not that I'm gonna take any liberties with it. But
this is for all those guys out there who have stories like this, or who are
still livin' them.  I think there's a lot of us just figuring out in kinda
the way it happened for me. Anyways, its' gonna take a few chapters to tell
it. So if you got questions, drop me a line at bmorebsballdan@aol.com. It'd
be cool to hear what you think, or if any of you are in the same boat. I
never thought this kind of thing would happen to me. I was just a happy go
luck straight boy making his way through college when all of a sudden I
found something out about myself I never expected. Sean did too.

By the way, don't read this if you're not supposed to. Which means...well
you know what it means. Be careful.  There, that's my legal
disclaimer...and now...on with the show.


Straight Boys Sean and Dan


I'm hardly awake on Tuesday mornings for my history of Western Civ
class. It starts at 10:30am in an small, tightly-packed room the fourth
floor of a stifling hot building. And it was summer too. July. Humid and
hot and wet. I was making up for too many late nights earlier that year.

Usually I just sit down at a desk in the back, try to find some draft in
the room that will blow up my cargo shorts or down my t-shirt, and read the
stuff other people have scratched on the desk. "Amy loves Jim." "Amy sucks
Jim's cock."  "Jim sucks his own cock." "Jim sucks cock." You know, that
kind of creative stuff that only horny hard-bodied college sophmore boys
would think of with a hard-on in their shorts and a pencil in their sweaty
hands.

I was a little hard that morning too. I woke up in my lacrosse shorts with
a big ol' hardon. Okay, not THAT big.  But for a 6'1 guy with a toned 175
pound body, a 6 and half inch dick isn't so bad. I hadn't gotten any
complaints from the ladies anyway. Not that there were a lot of them. A hot
little brunette named Kristen that gave great head at a spring concert
party outside. Or a taller, kinda round-hipped Iowa girl named Carrie. She
liked to uh...well you know...fuck like a rabbit. So that worked out
for me. But it had been awhile since I'd done anything except jerk off.
And i was beginning to wonder what was going on in my square-jawed head.

Earlier that morning as I woke up and stretched my lanky frame, noticing I
had a nice little crop of hair coming in between my defined pecs, it wasn't
girls that were on my mind.  It was boys. Boys had been on my mind a lot
lately.  Specifically, a boy named Sean. I thought about it as I soaped
myself up in the shower and absent mindedly washed my stomach and
balls...what WAS it about that guy that he kept getting in my dreams?

I'd never really thought about guys before in THAT way. Sure, I mean I
don't think you can help it these days.  Especially on a college campus in
the spring time. There are some damn hot guys walking around all the
time...shirts off, smooth chests and dark brown nipples the size of
quarters gleaming in the sun. the edge of their boxers stickin' up above
their baggy shorts or jeans, huggin' their nice tight asses.

Shit. I'm getting in way over my head, I thought as I got out of the shower
and looked for a clean pair of boxers.  But you know what I mean right?
There are gay guys on MTV. Cute guys even. And there are more and more
books coming out, and movies, and TV shows. I mean, holy cow, it's actually
starting to seem NORMAL to be gay. You can love baseball like I do, pound
back the beers, have fun with your buds, and be at least bi.

I was finally dressed, throwing on a black Orioles cap when I wondered to
myself what the hell was going on with me. It seemed like my body was
telling me things my mind wasn't ready to hear. The rest of me didn't seem
to have a problem with looking at boys, at least the part of me below the
belt. And honestly, it didn't freak me out.  I just wondered...what did
it all mean? How would I find out? Who the hell was I becoming? Or what was
it i was finally figuring out about myself?

I walked across the quad to my western civ class pondering these very deep
issues, and stealing glances at the two guys kicking the soccer ball around
in bare feet and bare chests. It was hot out...and the sweat was beading
up on their shoulders, making their muscles gleam in the sun. Just what I
needed before talking about the battle of Hastings in class...an image of
short-haired, white teethed, ruby-red lipped frat boys kicking a soccer
ball around showing off their tight round calves and strong legs. Damn it
was gonna be a long day.

So there I was, head fully confused, sitting at my desk wondering if Jim
really DID suck cock and how I might get a hold of him when Sean walked
in. I had totally forgotten about him and my dream the night before once I
started my morning.  Sean was in my dream. Sean was a dream, if that
doesn't sound too faggy (shit can I even fight it anymore?) He wasn't too
tall, about 5'10 160...really trim build...short brownish blond hair
that hung just over his deep brown eyes. I'm glad it was the summer cuz I
could get a better look at the rest of him. We'd actually had a class
earlier in the year, in the winter, when I first started dreaming about
him.

But then it was all red turtlenecks and big bulky sweaters. The spring and
summer were much better. Shorts and wife beaters and tan lines and him
absent-mindedly pushing his shirt up to rub his smooth flat stomach.
Yep. the boy was hot.  But damn...he also seemed so cool....just very
relaxed and masculine...and well...just a guy. The guy that had been on my
dream, standing in front of me, hands on my hips, leaning in with his eyes
closed...moaning softly as his lips touched mine...

I shook my head back and forth, trying to get myself together. He was
probably not the kind of guy who'd be having the same kind of thoughts as I
had right? We'd talked a few times, just about sports, and the college
hoops team. And once we sat in the campus bar and he told me things weren't
going so well for his girlfriend. But I was too busy studying the fine
hairs on his knee to realize then that it might be an opening.

So here I was, scratching the desk with a pen, slouching in my chair, legs
spread wide, looking up to see who was walking in.. And then it happened.

I was looking right at Sean, right in the eyes. And for some reason, I just
kept looking. Even as my heart beat picked up and my face got all flushed,
I knew I was making a mistake. But I couldn't help it.

I just kept looking. It was like my eyes were locked into his with big
steel chains, like nobody else was in the room. Like I couldn't do anything
else but look him straight in the eye for as long as he'd possibly let me.

And then I realized...HE WAS LOOKING STRAIGHT BACK. And he wasn't looking
away either!! We watched each other like that...all the way across the
room. Eye to eye. Staring, not being able to break away.  Staring...
looking...wondering. It seemed like the longest time in the world. It was
maybe all of five seconds. But what an intense five seconds.

And then he reached his desk and looked down to sit down. I sat up
breathing hard. My mind was racing. I kept clenching and unclenching my
fists. It was like I had just stood up in front of the entire room and
shouted "Hey Look!  Look at me! I'm gay dudes? Check it out. I stare at
guys. Can't you tell? I'm probably a fag."

I mean didn't' everyone see? They must have noticed. How couldn't they? I'm
normally a very confident self-assured guy.  I can get with most chics I
want. and I'm pretty laid back. But I had stared at Sean like he was a
bottle of water and I was a nomad lost in some great big Chinese desert. I
might as well have a sign on my head that with a big arrow pointing to me
that said, "thinks about guys when he jerks of."

I peeked over at Sean to see what was up. He was peeking over his shoulder
at me...wow. Thud thud thud.  There went my heart again. What was going
on? Was he sending me the signals I think he was? And were those Tommy
boxers I saw above the waistband of his board shorts? I couldn't tear my
eyes off of him now and took in every inch of his body. The way the t-shirt
clung to his back...the way his hair cut tapered back into a "V" and his
hairs got really fine and blond at the top of his neck...how his shorts
hugged his thighs...and how firm his ass looked in those shorts...which
were tugged down just a bit, sliding down his slim hips...damn I was in
trouble.

Control I thought. Control. Get yourself under control. Can't look like a
dog in heat.  Must not openly drool and lust after boys. Must not think
about dropping his shorts...feeling his calves...holding his hard firm
ass...tasting the sweat on his neck below his ear....feelin his ear
lobe in my mouth....smelling the sweat from the sun in his hair...and
running my hands down his back. Must NOT think about those things.


Hastings. Think hastings Far more important battle. Bows. Arrows.
Soldiers. Battle of Hastings...1066...William the Conqueror and the Normans
invade Saxon England.  William stumbles out of boat onto land...grabs soil,
exclaims "This is my country."  Hmmn. Interesting...a Frenchman...
conquering and Englishman...hmmmn French....hmmmm frenching...mmmm French.

I snapped out of it. Subconsciously I had been licking my lips, looking at
Sean. Thinking of Hastings.  Thinking of French. Thinking of him. What can
I say? I'm a red-blooded guy. Even when I'm confused I'm still thinking of
sex once every seven seconds.

But suddenly the teacher droned out that that would be all for the day. II
had definitelly been zoning out big time.  I shut my book closed and peeked
at Sean again. He was just getting up, pulling his shorts up, shoving his
books in his backpack...and very subtly adjusting his package.
Wow. Someone was enjoying the battle of Hastings.

Like I always did when I realized nothing was going to come of my juvenile
infatuation with a boy I hardly spoke to, I hung my head down, packed my
books up and began to walk out of the class, not even wanting to look at
Sean, knowing he was on his way out, not thinking a thing about me.
Probably off to play basketball, watch MTV, fuck his girlfriend, or do sit
ups and crunches....I started day dreaming as I walked out when ...

Whap. I bumped my head against someone's shoulder. I was annoyed and I
looked up ready to bitch out my foe when my mouth dried up.

"Um hey Dan."

It was Sean. He was looking at me. I didn't know what to say for a second.

"It is Dan right," he said, nervously chewing his bottom lip. I stared.
That looked sexy.

"Uh yeah...I'm Dan. Most of the time anyway. What's up Sean?" Nice
recovery.  Very cool. Be cool. Shit my heart is racing.

"hey I was wondering if maybe you wanted to study together sometime...
like we could just chill and hit the books or whatever."  he was nervous
too. his hair had fallen into his eyes and he brushed it back with his
hand. I was staring again.

"Sure man...that would be cool. Um...how about later tonight?'" I
looked him right in the eye now, a lot steadier.  And he just smiled this
lop-sided tooth grin.

"Cool bro...besides, from the way you were zoning out there in class...
looks like you could use a study session." he smiled gain.  What the hell
does he mean by that I wondered. But I was smiling anyway.

"Here," he said. He put his hand on my shoulder. "Let me give you my
digits."

He shucked his backpack off and I looked at the spot where his hand had
been. That felt good. Nice firm strong grip.  And that smell...definitely
masculine...but clean smelling. Not bad at all.

I watched his brow furrow as he scratched down his number on piece of
notebook paper and handed it to me.  "Sean, Dan's study savior...
555-8537. room 204 Hughes."

"Here you go bro," he said.

"Sweet man," I said. Then I figured what the hell. "I can always use a good
tutorial bro." I nervously smiled.

He smiled back big. And stuck his hand out "Right on man. I gotta go bro,
but call me soon k?" He stuck out his hand and we did a big handshake, you
know the kind brothers do, grabbin hands. It felt good. And we both held it
a little longer than we needed.

"No prob man... Later, I'll call you" I said. He turned and practically
bounced out of the room. I was smiling like a goofy third grader who just
lost a tooth, and the tossed a look over his shoulder and flashed me a very
cool smile, and was that just a bit of a wink?