Date: Mon, 31 Jan 2011 13:35:10 -0600
From: Jonothan Wolf <jwolf24450@gmail.com>
Subject: The List Chapter 2: David

      **Standard disclaimer applies. This is purely fiction (if based only
slightly on actual events). Don't read if you shouldn't because you're
under 18 or live in a backwards area. I appreciate any and all feedback, so
please email me at jwolf24450@gmail.com. Enjoy the story!

       David

       Within a couple of nights, we declared that my bed was the sex bed
and Spencer's bed was the sleep bed. That way neither of us had to sleep in
the wet spot. We fell into a pretty solid routine pretty quickly. I didn't
see much of Spencer during the day: he spent most evenings at the gym
swimming and nights out with the swim guys.

       I was on an academic scholarship, so I had to keep my nose in the
books pretty much. We'd talk about the list every once in a while, but
nothing happened for a while. That changed about four weeks into school
when I added this entry to the list.

       Specimen's name: David
       Height: 5'11
       Build: 180, muscular
       Occupation: Student (Theater/Pre-Law), peer tutor
       Age: 20, junior

       How I obtained the specimen: at this point, I was getting antsy. I'd
tried all I wanted to try with Spencer and was afraid that if we kept
giving each other nightly blow jobs, we'd end up never going out there and
hooking up with anyone else. When I told him that, he agreed and said no
more making out or giving head until we'd both collected someone new.

       Four days later, I was already backed up and I began looking around
for possible candidates. What surprised me was how straight everyone seemed
to me. I didn't realize that I seemed just as straight to them. No one knew
my secret, and I was beginning to think Spencer was wrong and that we were
the only two guys interested in hooking up with guys on campus.

       A month into school, students get a progress report going into
midterms. It's to kind of shock you into taking your October midterms
seriously. The second I got my report, I knew I needed tutoring. I had 90's
in three of my harder classes and on the one elective I'd chosen, theater
appreciation, the report simply said "needs improvement." I knew that my
theater teacher didn't like me very much, I didn't take the class too
seriously and he could tell.

       When my progress report came out, I asked him if he knew any
students that would be willing to tutor me.

	 "I'll set you up with David," the professor told me, writing
something down. "He was just like you his first term and then he really got
the point of what theater can do. I took the liberty of talking to your
advisor," he said to me. "He says you're a pre law student, with a
particular interest in business? Let me tell you something, son. Learning
the basics of acting can go a long way in court or negotiations. I'll let
David tell you himself, because I know you'll listen to him. Just know that
your contemporary monologue next week is 20 percent of your total grade and
you need it to be good."

      As if the pressure wasn't high enough. I figured I was in good
standing with everything else, I'd take the time to nail this monologue and
then the teacher would let me coast the rest of the term. That night I
emailed David, looked him up on Facebook and saw that he was very
attractive.

       I told Spencer I'd found someone I was going after. He was a junior,
so I wasn't worried about him telling any of my friends if it didn't go
well. And who knew? Maybe it would go well.

       David agreed to meet with me at his apartment the next day after
dinner. I decided even though the school pays him to tutor, I should do a
little extra, so I brought him some Starbucks.

       "I hope you like white chocolate mochas," I said, getting
comfortable at his place and taking my sweater off. His apartment was
tiny. Everything was in one little room. Even the ceiling seemed to be
lower than most. In one corner was a closet and in the opposite corner a
closet that contained a toilet and a stand up shower. I wondered where he
brushed his teeth.

       Like most college men, the place wasn't the neatest. He had his
mattress on the ground in the middle of the room facing a TV that was
mounted to the wall. There were a couple of game consoles plugged in, a
desk on one wall with a laptop and a lamp with no shade.

       "Sorry this place is so small and cozy. The tutoring offices are
usually taken up by English students these days," he said. Deciding it was
time to start flirting, I responded.

       "So I'm the only lucky one that gets to see the pad for my session?"
and I smiled at him.

       "Thanks for the coffee, Cooper," he said. "You didn't have to. You
know I get ten bucks for our session right?"

       "Yeah," I replied. "I just wanted to do a little extra." And I
smiled at him again. I was no Spencer, but I'd flirted my fair share in
high school. Girls said they found my geeky awkwardness cute, but when I
wanted to turn on the charm, I could.

       "So where to start?" he said. "Have you picked a monologue for your
contemporary piece?"

       "Not yet. I was hoping you could help me with that," I said. "The
one I picked for Shakespeare was a disaster so I don't trust my own
instincts."

       "Which one did you do?"

       "Iago," I replied.

       "Well that's why. That's one of the toughest characters to nail," he
said.
       "I wasn't trying to nail Iago. I think Othello would be moor my
type," I said, trying to make a joke. "Moor. The moor of Venice."  I was
relieved when he cracked a wide smile and shook his head.

       "Shakespeare humor," he said. Apparently he was more interested in
the joke than the fact that I said I'd bang Othello. Oh, well, I
thought. Keep it light, you just got here.

       I told David that I'd only seen one play before and that it was a
shortened version of Of Mice and Men. He said we could start there, that
Steinbeck's characters had some great scenes. He asked how I felt at the
end when George was about to shoot Lennie. I had to confess that I almost
cried.

       "Then why don't you do that one? You'll understand what the audience
should feel; that'll make it easier to make them feel that way."

       With that, David got up and walked over to a bookshelf next to his
desk. "I think I have a copy here, hold on a second." He rummaged around
for a second and then tossed me a short paper back. "It's yours," he said
coming back to where we were sitting on his mattress.

       "I couldn't take your copy," I said.

       "Trust me, the coffee cost more. You'll need it. I want you to read
the monologue three times. The first time think about how it makes you
feel—here, it's here in the back. The second time, think about how you
would feel if you were actually George saying those words. Then read it a
third time and think about how you would feel if you were Lennie hearing
those words. You want the way George says the words to accomplish making
how you, as Lennie, would hear the words. It's called affecting your scene
partner."

	  I'd heard my teacher talk about that before, but for some reason
when David said it, it made a whole lot more sense. Maybe it was because
his face was so pretty to me. I could feel myself staring at him and I
turned quickly.

	 "Ok, yeah," I said. "Right now?"

       "Is my mattress not comfortable enough for you?" he asked. "Just
kidding. We may as well take the whole hour. Plus I want to hear you say it
a few times before you leave. Just take your time and read it. I'll be
right here getting some stuff done."

       And he walked over to his computer, leaving me there to do my
assignment. I read the monologue the first time, thinking about how I felt
afterwards. It was really depressing. I mean these two were lifelong
friends, and here was George, forced to kill Lennie because you couldn't
have him tagging along any more.

       I read it again, wondering what I would think if I was George. This
was the hardest part. From what I remembered about the play, he was a
family-less drifter. I couldn't relate to that. I suppose if my only
concern was surviving, saying these words to my friend wouldn't be that
hard.

       Then I thought, what if I was Lennie? If I was Lennie, I wouldn't
really know what was going on. I'd wonder what the fuck George was going on
about and then I'd be dead. This assignment was a lot harder than I thought
it would be.

       "How's it going?" David asked me after about ten minutes.

       "Good I think," I said.

       "Ready to come over here and say it for me?" he replied. "Here, come
up here. Pretend I'm Lennie, looking out over the water. Just read the
monologue to me."

       I recited it once, trying my best to sound depressing and
dramatic. I said it over once and when I was done, David said "Slow
down. Like a lot. The audience isn't going anywhere. Think about what you
just said before you go on to saying the next thing. Try it again, and this
time, really try to feel it. Try to connect with who you're talking to" he
said. This time, before I started, he grabbed my hand and put it on his
shoulder.

       I tried to fight the urge to move my hand down his chest. What's the
worst that could happen, I thought. I started saying the monologue. After a
line, I paused and gently slipped my fingers lower an inch or so. David
didn't move the first time. I said another couple of lines and then
continued down. I passed his clavicles and then realized my longest finger
was less than a centimeter from his nipple. I wondered what David was
thinking.

       I said another couple of lines and then moved my hand back up to his
shoulder. This time, I traced my hand down his arm, feeling how hard and
tight his biceps were. I didn't squeeze them or anything, just applied a
light deliberate pressure.

       I moved my hand back up with the next couple of lines and then this
time, just slid them through the button opening of his polo. At this point,
I was at the end of the monologue and I dropped the book, put two fingers
to David's head and mimicked shooting him.

       "How was that?" I asked. I started to move my hand away from his
chest when David surprised me by grasping it.

       "The monologue was better, far from good. But great job paying
attention to your scene partner," he said. "I could really feel you, um,
affecting me."

       With that, I felt David guide my hand further into his shirt. I
could feel the thin fabric of a wife beater and the hot skin underneath. I
noticed him adjust something in his crotch and realized I had a bulge
too. For my first male seduction, I was doing pretty well.

       He turned his head up towards mine and I nodded down at him. I
didn't hesitate, channeling Spencer, and I leaned down and kissed him
lightly. The position we were in wasn't the most comfortable. He was half
swiveled in his chair towards me, my hand was still on his chest. He was
craning his neck and I felt like Spiderman, kissing him from above.

       Luckily, David was able to take control from this point. As far as I
was concerned, I was still a novice. Sure Spencer and I had practiced a few
things, but neither of us really understood the mechanics of gay sex. We
were just going with the flow. We knew that giving blow jobs turned both of
us on. He'd occasionally try to play with my ass, but up until then, I'd
been too skittish and I'd stop him. Mostly we just made out.

       I could tell instantly that David knew what he was doing. He stood
up and pushed me backwards onto his bed/couch/floor mat of a mattress. He
took a second to take his shirt and under shirt off before diving into
me. We made out for what felt like a glorious eternity.

       I kept thinking that he was surer of what he was doing than I
was. He put his leg between my legs, planting his crotch on my
thigh. Before long, we were kissing and he was grinding his hard denim clad
dick on me. My cock was instantly rock hard and I needed to get it out of
my jeans. Almost as if he sensed it, David let go of my lips and sat up.

       "You know how inappropriate this is, right? I'm on the clock," he
said undoing his jeans.

       "If you want, we can sit here and wait until seven," I replied. "Or
you can take my jeans off right now and I won't tell anyone."

       He smiled down at me and obliged instantly. Within thirty seconds,
the two of us were naked and David was back on top of me. What was great
about David was that his body was smaller than Spencer's (my only frame of
reference) but everything seemed to be tighter. His hands were firmer, his
muscles were much harder, and his kiss was more deliberate.

       His cock, on the other hand, was a completely different story. It
was so long, I had no clue where it had come from. Where was this guy
hiding this thing in his pants? I guessed it had to be about 8 inches, not
as thick as mine or Spencer's.

       David let go of my lips again and this time traced down my body, the
exact same way I used to with girls. He got to my crotch, which felt like
it was on fire, and took my entire cock into his mouth. I arched up into
his lips, grabbed his head and let out a sigh. Whatever he was doing was
driving me crazy.

       He had this tongue move that I'd never felt before anywhere. He'd
let my dick go all the way down into his throat and then he'd mimic
swallowing. That would drive a sensation through the head of my dick that
drove me crazy. Then, he'd slip almost all the way out and swirl the head
of my dick with just the inside of his tongue. The sensation was out of
control.

       A few minutes later, David got up and walked over to his desk.

       "Where are you going?" I panted, wanting his mouth back on my dick?

       "To get a condom," he said. "I assumed we were going to..." he
didn't say fuck, but then again he didn't need to. I wasn't sure I was
ready to stick my dick into another dude's butt, or vice versa, but then
again, what was I waiting for? Most of all, I didn't want to do it and suck
at it and embarrass myself in front of a sexy upper classmen.

       "I've never fucked anyone before," I said. The words just came
out. David returned to his bed and crawled in next to me. He kissed me,
grabbed my cock and starting stroking it gently.

       "We don't have to if you don't want to," he said, stroking my
cock. "This feels good, right?"

       "Really good," I said. I let him keep stroking me, all the while
asking myself what I was waiting for. I guess I assumed it would be special
when I lost my gay virginity, kind of like when I lost my straight
virginity. I also kind of thought it would be with Spencer.

       "We can take it really, really slow," David said sexily. He was
kissing my neck again, beating us both off with his two hands. I felt kind
of lazy not doing anything to him, but I thought: this is his show. I just
lay back and let him work.

       He returned to my cock with his mouth, this time lifting my legs so
that they were wrapped around him. I was clutching his hair, thinking if
this got any better, I'd lose it and rip some of it out. He did the tongue
move again and this time, I felt a little pop go in my asshole. I sat up,
looked down and realized that without even realizing it, David had slipped
his finger into my butt.

       "Does that feel good?" he asked, taking a deep breath. He exhaled
onto my cock. Did it? Of course it did. It made everything he was doing to
my cock feel that much better. Plus it was a brand new sensation I'd
absolutely never felt before.

       "Keep going," I said, laying back down. "Please," I panted.  I
didn't know why, but I wanted to keep feeling how David was making me
feel. The feeling of his finger in my asshole was so new, so good, I didn't
want it to stop.

       "Do you want me to..." he began to ask. I knew he was ready to fuck
me and he wanted to know if I would take it.

       "No," I said. "Just your finger."

       "What about a second one?" he asked, obviously still excited if not
a little disappointed. "Trust me, it'll feel even better."

       And he was right. A minute later, he'd popped a second finger into
my ass, and now I felt more stretched out, more full. He was moving his two
longest fingers in and out of my butt, and every time he slid in, he went
further. He kept rubbing against a little spot to the left that resulted in
me gasping, moaning, and leaking even more precum. I was so turned on, I
didn't even realize when he'd put a third finger in.

       "I'm not gonna last," I said between breaths. The sensation was now
so constant and so severe, I knew I needed to cum or I'd go crazy. "I'm
gonna cum."

       "Cum for me," he said to me, stroking my dick a little bit
faster. He started kissing my lips again.Not once letting his fingers leave
my ass, a second later, I shot spew after spew of cum further than I'd ever
shot it before. Some got on my face, in my hair, but the majority landed on
my chest, just below my chin. The smell of my own cum always made me a
little sick when I was just jacking off alone, but today, with this guy
still fingering me and my cock still rock hard even though I'd just
orgasmed, everything felt pretty good.

       I scooped up some of my jizz with my finger and brought it down to
David's face. He licked my finger clean, rolling his eyes back into his
head.

       "My turn," he said. He got up, took his fingers out of my ass,
leaving me feeling a little empty, and straddled me. "Ready for this man?"
he asked.

       The look on his face as he brought himself over the edge was sexier
than anything I'd ever seen. Who knew I could be so attracted to another
guy? If I thought this junior was hot to look at on a regular basis,
imagine how beautiful he was kneeling over me, rock hard, eyes closed,
tongue licking his lips, ready to explode. I fed him another finger full of
my cum, and this must have just done it for him. He let loose, rope after
rope, onto my chest and face.

       With Spencer, I tried not to swallow any cum. For some reason, in
the beginning, that felt way too gay for me. Cock whores swallow cum. Guys
helping guys don't. Plus, it didn't really taste that good to me. A mixture
of salty and musty wasn't the biggest turn on.

       But when David's spunk hit my chin, I knew his would taste
different. I opened my mouth and let the second rope fly right into my
mouth. It was sweeter than Spencer's, almost creamy. I still wouldn't call
it delicious, but it certainly was good.

       As soon as he was done shooting his load, David laid down next to me
on his own mattress.

       "That was a good session, I'd say," he panted, breathing in heavily.

       "Best tutoring I've gotten all semester," I confessed. "By a mile."
       "Well we're nowhere near perfecting that monologue," he said. "We'd
better schedule another appointment."

       I kissed him and then stood up. "You just want to make another ten
dollars off of me," I said. I got dressed, agreed that we'd meet on
Thursday for round two (acting first, sucking second) and I left, feeling
better than I could honestly say I had before.

       When I got home, Spencer was there studying and asked me how it
went. By the smile on my face, he knew immediately I'd collected another
specimen.

       "Nice job, buddy," he said. "Here. How was it?"

       He handed me a notebook with a template he'd filled out. I put down
all of David's info, including whether or not I wanted to hook up with him
again, a detailed account of what we'd done and what the best and worst
parts of it were. When I was done, I handed it over to Spencer.

       "He wanted to fuck me," I said bluntly. Spencer looked at me.

       "And?"

       "I told him I wasn't ready," I said.

       "Are you?" Spencer asked.

       "After tonight," I replied. "I'm totally ready."

       "So why didn't you?" he asked me.

       Without saying anything else, I leaned back, giving Spencer an
unmistakable look. He's the one that brought me into this new world I was
so greatly taking advantage of. I figured I owed my virginity to him. I
couldn't think of anyone that would be more gentle and respectful and
understanding than my new roommate and best friend. Reading my face and
taking my cue, Spencer shut the notebook and walked over to me. He kissed
me softly, reached down and undid the zipper of my pants.

       That's part two of what hopefully becomes a successful story. Like I
said, I appreciate all feedback, so please drop me a line at
jwolf24450@gmail.com.