Date: Tue, 31 Dec 2013 12:48:43 -0500 From: Lewd Shrewd <lewdandshrewd@gmail.com> Subject: The Chemistry Professor, chapter 3 Disclaimer: This is a work of gay, erotic fiction; please do not read if it is illegal for you to do so. This work is entirely fictional; any resemblances to real people, events, or institutions are coincidental. Please direct any comments, suggestions, or questions to lewdandshrewd@gmail.com. Thanks, and enjoy! -Lewdandshrewd Chapter 3 I woke up to my 7:30 alarm, startled awake from dreams of high school and my new coworker James, and wasn't surprised to find my cock begging for attention. I struggled out of bed, groggily walked over to my desk, and sat down for a quick morning jerk-off. The twink porn I'd been looking at a few days ago was still loaded – I said I have broad tastes – and did just fine to help me rub out a much-needed orgasm. I didn't bother cleaning up, just walked to the bathroom with my slowly softening cock dangling between my legs, and cum matting much of the trimmed, blond hair on my chest and flat stomach, which had grown in during college. My roommate Lisa had already left for work. After I finished my shower, brushed my teeth, and got dressed in well-tailored khakis and a slim-fitting blue polo, I poured myself some coffee and headed to work for my second day at the university. Day two was quite uneventful; I finished arranging my office, got a campus tour from a student working for the admissions office, had a few meetings with administrators, and started planning my lectures for the two courses I'd be teaching that semester: a general chemistry lab course for freshmen, and an upper-level inorganic chemistry course for seniors. I ate my lunch of leftover macaroni and peas with Alice, one of the two other untenured chemistry faculty – the other was James – at one of the outdoor picnic tables in front of the science building. Alice and I hit it off well; she'd done her post-doc in DC at the same school I did my graduate research, so we knew quite a few of the same people, and had plenty of funny stories about our former mentors and professors. As Alice and I were cleaning up our Tupperware and wrapping up our lunch, James walked up to us and said, "Hey guys! Glad to see a little collegial bonding going on. Looking forward to this evening, Rob!" Alice put on a face of mock disdain, and replied, "You fellas have plans without me?! What a pair of bums." "Just a little sports talk over beers; nothing that would interest you, Alice," chuckled James. "Besides, you two just had a lunch date; I get my turn with the newbie tonight." My mind immediately went to a very unprofessional place, but I quickly recovered, knowing that a coworker would never make such sexual innuendoes openly; he was just being friendly. But as he walked away, I caught myself staring just a little too long at his broad shoulders and tight-fitting jeans. Alice either didn't notice my lusty eyes or pretended to ignore it. "So you're a sports fan, huh, Rob?" "Well, I like soccer and tennis, but I'm a little nervous about James wanting to talk football; it's not really my cup of tea." "Oh, don't worry. James really just wanted an excuse to have a drink with you; he's really excited to have another young guy in the department. Besides, he doesn't really know anything about football either, unless you start talking about Tom Brady's awful haircut or how handsome Matt Forte is." I had no idea James was gay too, and my eyebrows nearly reached my hairline. "I guess I didn't realize..." I stammered, trying not to blush. "Oh yeah, he and his husband, who's a professor in the English department, were instrumental in getting the board to instate those domestic partner benefits you were so concerned about during your interviews." My heart sank for a moment, but I knew that was probably a good thing: best to stay out of sexual entanglements with coworkers. "Wow, that's great! I thought it would be years before Catholic schools started offering that; I probably wouldn't have accepted the job offer otherwise," I said, trying to keep the mild disappointment out of my voice. "James and Aaron pleaded with the board for two years before they finally came to their senses. I think it passed in large part because you were on the fence about our offer. The dean also started pressing hard once she knew you might not accept the job because of their backwards policies. We all thought you would be a standout addition to the department." Alice was obviously pleased with the board's recent decision. The new pope's ideas on homosexuality were clearly welcome in her mind, and our university was one of the first Catholic institutions to come around to modern sensibilities. Apparently, thanks in large part to James. Alice and I said quick goodbyes, and I headed back to my office to continue my preparations for the term. The afternoon flew by, and I got a lot accomplished. Six o'clock came quickly, and I was just finishing writing a lecture on molecular orbital theory when I heard a low "ahem" from the doorway. I looked up to find James standing in my doorway, smiling that handsome smile, wearing a dashing gray blazer that fit just as well as his tight jeans. "Ready to go, Rob?" he asked. "Yeah, just give me one minute to finish this lecture." "No problem; I'm just gonna use the bathroom while you wrap up," James smiled. He walked off to the small men's room near my office, and I finished my last diagram. I quickly packed up, and realized I had to take a piss before we headed out, too. I walked the few steps down the hallway and went in the bathroom, promptly remembered that there were only two urinals, without a divider between them, and James was just unzipping at one. "Ha! I guess there are no `urinal politics' in this bathroom!" I joked, referring to the unspoken rule among men that you never pick the urinal next to a guy who's already there. James chuckled. "Nope, you've got no choice in here!" I heard him fumble around through his fly to pull out his cock – it's not easy when you're wearing underwear and tight jeans – and heard his piss start to flow as I also unzipped. I couldn't help myself; I stole a quick, subtle glance down at James' crotch, and was impressed. A steady, clear stream of piss was flowing out of his thick, five-inch (soft!) cock, through his meaty, bunched up foreskin. I'd been taught from an early age to pull back my foreskin to pee, in order to keep my cock clean, but I loved seeing a guy piss through his. I noticed that James kept his face steadily facing forward while he pissed, and I was only a little disappointed that I didn't get to show off my own six-inch softie. Ever since those high school locker rooms, I'd relished other guys' impressed stares at my big, soft cock. I was a shower more than a grower, but that was a good thing in locker rooms full of straight high schoolers. As we both finished emptying our bladders and tucking away our penises, James said eagerly, "Now let's go fill `em up again! Beer time!" We laughed as we washed our hands, and left the building in a hurry. We walked a few blocks from campus to a nearby bar, known for its excellent selection of craft brews on tap. James ordered a Belgian tripel and I a West Coast IPA. We chatted about the upcoming changes to the chemistry curriculum, the best ways to deal with university bureaucracy, our graduate research, and the best restaurants and bars around campus. Our conversation was flowing easily, and we both eagerly ordered another beer when the bartender noticed our first empties. "So, what do you think about the Bears?" James asked, two-thirds of the way through beer number two. Boldly, I smirked and said, "Well, Matt Forte is one handsome motherfucker." I'd looked him up online after Alice's comment at lunch, and he was indeed a sexy man – a running-back for the Chicago Bears, he was a beefy black man with tattoos all the way up his arm, a shaved head, and – one of my weaknesses – a killer smile, at least on those rare occasions when he was smiling. "Haha!! I like the way you think; Alice must have let you in on my secret crush?" "She might have mentioned something in passing..." I said, blushing. Our conversation turned toward men, domestic partner benefits at the university, and past relationships. I told James about my two exes, one an artist that I'd dated in college – we were just too different to make it work, and the other a physics graduate student I'd been with for three years before I moved to my post-doc – we decided against a long-distance relationship. James filled me in about his husband, Aaron, who he'd met when he started at our university four years earlier, and had married two years ago. A genuine smile painted James' face as he described his marriage, and I could tell he was madly in love. "Aaron is fantastic: so smart, well-read, worldly... And damn sexy to boot!" James beamed, clearly proud of his husband. "You look a lot like him, actually. Blond, tall, lean... He's less scruffy than you, and probably skinnier, and you certainly have a bigger dick." James winked, clearly feeling that third Belgian tripel, and more loose-tongued than I ever would have expected. I was feeling my third beer, as well, and said quietly in reply, "I don't have much on you, that's for sure... I thought you stared straight ahead the whole time back at work!" "I have excellent peripheral vision." "Let's get another beer," I said, realizing that this professional encounter with a coworker was getting a little sexier than was appropriate, and trying to steer the conversation back to a modicum of decency. We continued chatting convivially about our tastes in beer – he liked strong, pale beers, and I preferred hoppier brews – and about chemistry, life in Chicago, and what to expect when the semester began. When our fourth beer was finished, I asked the bartender for the check, and we split the bill. As James was signing the slip, I said, "I'm gonna go take a leak, and then we can head out." I donned my jacket, grabbed my bag, and headed to the bathroom in the back of the bar, trying to clear my head from the beers and the innuendoes of my conversation with James. I stood in front of the last of the five urinals in a row, and when I was halfway done, he walked in and smiled, saying, "Urinal politics, huh?" And stood right next to me, grinning. James pulled out his own big cock, started pissing, and – not subtly at all, this time – looked down at mine, chuckled, and said, "We must be the best hung chemistry department in the country." He reached over, grabbed my pissing cock, gave the head a quick rub with his thumb, and then moved his hand back to his own dick, shaking off the last drops of piss. He quickly stuffed his cock back in his pants as we heard the door open, went to the sink to wash his hands, and walked out of the bathroom. I was shocked, turned on, and wondering what to do as I zipped up and washed my own hands. James greeted me by the bar's exit, as if nothing had happened, and we headed back to campus, where we'd catch our separate trains home. As we made more small talk about hot footballers and Chicago's hot summer weather, James put his arm around my shoulder and said, "Damn, it's nice to have a colleague around who's charming, funny, level-headed, and frankly, hot as hell." "You're married, James! And we're colleagues; we shouldn't flirt," I replied, knowing that I wanted desperately to do precisely that. "Yep, I am and we are, but my husband's not a prude and you're not a student; we haven't done anything wrong. In fact, you should come meet my husband later this week. Dinner and wine at our place, Thursday at 8. See you tomorrow at work!" His train had just arrived, he boarded, and sped off. I was flabbergasted; I had just been fondled by one of the hottest men I'd seen in years, who was married and my coworker, and he'd said it was no big deal! I figured he must have an open relationship with his husband, which I totally understood, but being coworkers seemed to me a big deal. Nevertheless, I spent the entire train ride back to my apartment trying to conceal my raging boner. As I walked in the apartment, Lisa said, "Looks like somebody had a better time than he expected," indicating the obvious tent in my pants. "Oh, shut up; he's just really sexy, and easy to talk to, and funny, and hung. But he's married and my colleague; my dick can't help itself, but I'm not going there!" "Hung?! How'd you find that out?!" Lisa cackled, laughing. "There are these things called urinals, and I have wandering eyes, damn them!" I retorted, slapping my own forehead. "OK, OK, hornball. Calm it. I made a whole fucking chuck roast, so have some; it's in the refrigerator. And don't jerk off too many times thinking about him," she winked. I filled up on delicious beef, sobered up, and went to bed. For the second night in a row, I dreamed of what I would do to James' gorgeous, bearded smile and amazing dick – if only I could.