Date: Wed, 1 Jul 2009 20:33:09 -0400
From: Tony <themorpheusmachine@gmail.com>
Subject: the smell of water 1

Right, this is my first submission, so encouragement and non-assholey
critique is more than welcome.  Of course, this story is of a sexual nature,
and the sexual experience contained herein is between two men.  If this is
something that might offend or nauseate you, I strongly encourage you
navigate away from this page.  If this is a topic that strikes your fancy, I
hope you enjoy.  That being said -- I present my story.
Tony
TheMorpheusMachine@gmail.com


			    The Smell of Water


The smell of water always makes me think of him.  The smell of water and
that... presence.  That looming presence you feel when a storm is coming.  Or
when you hear the ocean in the distance.  That feeling of power.  That raw
emotion.  That amazing fluid movement that seems to travel audibly through
the air.  It's a kind of pressure that you can almost feel on your skin.
Almost.  And sitting here in the moonless night, the lake close by, storm
clouds building in the distance... it's impossible to not remember.

It started with my dreams.

I have the most amazing dreams.  And I don't just mean they're fantastical.
I mean that they are the most mind-blowing experience you could ever hope
for.  I could write pages and pages of descriptions -- I could grasp at words
for hours trying to relate these incredible incidents.  But it would all
fall short.

People usually dream in snatches or fragments.  There's a moment of passion
or a beautiful sight surrounded by odd circumstances and people.  There are
objects at places they don't belong.  But when I dream -- I create worlds.  I
interact with creatures you couldn't even begin to imagine.  It is the most
amazing feeling, and every time I have one of these dreams I wake up
breathless with wonder.

I tell you this not to brag or to put myself above anyone else.  Some of my
dreams are stupid and pointless.  Once I had a whole conversation with a
kangaroo that lived inside a gumball machine.  Pretty dumb, right?  And the
amazing dreams usually only happen once a week, or every other week.  It's
not like I'm some sort of dreaming pro.  No, the reason that I tell you this
is so that you can better understand what it means when I say that although
dreams are amazing... my nightmares are worse by far.

Like most people, I had nightmares occasionally throughout my childhood.
They were vivid and unpleasant, but bearable.  But during my junior year of
high school, they became... something unreal.  Intolerable, would be a better
word.  I would wake up gasping for breath or in a cold sweat.  Sometimes I
would wake up so terrified that my legs would be running, my sheets kicked
all over the place.  It would take moments for me to calm down and stop
myself.  And following these moments there was no hope for sleep.  No matter
how tired I was, sleep became my enemy after one of those terrors.  And it
was because of these nightmares that I became an insomniac.

My inability to sleep followed me through my first two years of college.
Late at night I would read, write, do homework.  Sometimes I would listen to
music or sit with people in the dorm that had "better" things to do than
sleep.  But during my sophomore year, I began to walk around the campus
alone.

Don't get me wrong, I love being around people.  People are great!  I love
parties and I kick ass when it comes to shooter games.  I'm something of a
renaissance man.  I can talk to anyone about anything -- and I do.  But after
a year and a half in the dorms, you learn a certain respect for private
space and alone time.  So, between the hours of 2 and 5, I would stroll out
and walk the various paths or sometimes wander the woods that nestled up
against the dorms.  Sometimes I would go to the athletic fields and look up
at the stars in the sky.

Soon this became a ritual and, rain or moonshine, I would go out and travel
the campus aimlessly.  It helped to clear my head and calm my nerves.  But
my favorite nights were when there was a warm rain...

The constant sound of raindrops rhythmically hitting the cement and tapping
against the structures was always soothing.  It had a hypnotic effect as my
feet splashed through puddles.  Hours would slip away until I found myself
back at my dorm and then I would slosh up the stairs, peel off my clothes,
hang them to dry in the bathroom, towel off, and crawl into bed.

It was on one of these nights that I met him.  It wasn't the first time I
had seen him, but when we practically bumped into each other in the pouring
rain, it was impossible for me to recognize who he was.  His black hair was
plastered to his head and his clothes clung to his lean body.  His eyes were
hidden by darkness as water collected and dripped off his angular features.
I could tell from that brief glance that he was beautiful.  And there was
this sense of comfortable familiarity...  But in that moment I was too
surprised to do anything more than stammer out, "Um... hi?"

Yes, I know.  The renaissance man and his *smooth* talking.  It's a wonder
he didn't pull off his clothes that instant, right?  But in my defense, on
top of the surprise of bumping into someone this late at night in the
pouring rain, there was something else.  It was something that I couldn't
quite put a name to at the time.  Looking back, I can tell you it was his
presence.  But in those minutes I was taken more by that unnamable quality
than his striking looks.  He... the way he held himself and the way his face
was deep in thought and the way he seemed to *defy* the rain even as it
rained on him... it was incredible.

We had looked at each other for a few seconds before I offered my confused
greeting.  Our eyes were indistinct in the darkness, but I could tell he was
looking deeply into mine.  And the second I spoke that single word with that
audible question mark at the end, his lips turned up in a smile.  And that
was the beginning of something beautiful.



Rook Tiernay was a sophomore, same as me.  He studied music -- specifically,
he studied piano, although I didn't know that at the time.  That night, when
I first properly met him, he asked me what I was doing out in the rain.

"Just walking."

He smiled again, this time his white teeth flashing in the darkness.

"I see that.  But *where* were you walking *to*?"

"Nowhere specific... just, ya know... walking."

"In the rain?"  I could hear playfulness in his voice.  I was glad it was
dark because I could feel myself beginning to blush.

"Yes, in the rain."

"At three in the morning?"  Although I couldn't see clearly in the darkness,
I could tell he was raising an eyebrow as he asked the question.  He knew
somehow that I was uncomfortable, and was enjoying every second of it.

"Yes," I sighed, "At three in the morning."

I don't know why I was so awkward that night.  I mean, of course I was
thrown off by meeting someone in a place I expected no one.  In all my
nights of wandering the campus, the only person I had ever seen was Sam the
security guard, and he only ever nodded at me as I walked past.  I never had
explain my nocturnal adventures.  They were a secret part of my life and it
made me somehow uncomfortable to be caught in the act.

"Would you mind if I walked with you?"  His voice was sincere.

I was surprised.  That was it.  There were no more questions.  He didn't
care about my reasons nor did he give me any more of a hard time.  He just
wanted to walk with me.  I was flattered.  Confused, but flattered.

"Yeah, sure.  Why not?"

We walked in silence.  The rain was warm and gentle.  The world slept as we
each enjoyed the quiet company of the other.  There was something comforting
about him.  Something that calmed me.  I soon became lost in my world of
thoughts and suddenly we were standing outside my dorm, both of us staring.

I don't remember anything in between.  Just the sound of the rain and the
pleasant sensation of having someone nearby.  As we stood there I felt that
familiarity again.  Like I had seen him before.

"Do I know you?"

He shook his head, some of the water dripping off his nose as he said, "No,
I don't think so.  My name's Rook."

This time I was the one to raise my eyebrow.

"Like the chess piece?"

He nodded.

"Interesting.  My name's Alex."

We stood for a while in silence.

"Maybe... I'll see you around sometime?" I asked.

He grinned widely at me as he said, "I sure as hell hope so."

And then he turned and disappeared like a phantom into the darkness.  I
didn't know what to make of him.  His grin left me giddy.  But I knew that
I'd seen his face before.  I couldn't stand it!  Normally I was so good with
faces.  Especially good looking ones.

I shook my head at myself.  *Don't worry. It doesn't matter.  You'll
probably never see him again.*

I saw Rook the very next day.



Just as I create worlds when I dream, I dive into them when I read.  I was a
student of English language and literature at the time, but I've always been
a big book nerd.  I'm the type of person you see reading as they walk to
their classes.  And during lunch, I loved going to the student center, grab
some food, and read in this big common room in a plush armchair.

There were these huge windows at one end that let in lazy sunlight.  And in
the corner there was a beautiful grand piano that music students would often
play at.  So, when I wasn't meeting up with friends, I would find a chair
close to the piano and eat as I read.

I walked into the room transfixed.  The book I was reading -- magnificent!
It was one of those novels that drew you in so completely that you
*felt*with the characters.  You felt their pain, their anguish, their
triumph,
their success!  The world was dead to me as I plopped into my plush chair,
some soup in one hand, my book in the other, and a spoon hanging carelessly
from my lips.  The music was distant as I cracked open the top of my bowl
and continued turning pages.

This went on for the better part of an hour, and slowly people began filing
out of the room to their classes.  I didn't have a class after lunch, so I
continued to read.  In the middle of an elegant run of notes, the music
stopped.

The air was thick with sunlight and silence.  I turned the final page in the
chapter I was reading.  You could hear the page *swish*.  I sighed as I
finished those last words.  "Far away a crow caws.  The Earth slowly keeps
on turning.  But beyond any of those details of the real, there are dreams.
And everyone's living in them."

My soup was cold.  My heart trembled with those words as I stared into the
yellow rectangles of sunlight that painted the carpeted floor.  Little bits
of dust caught the light and rode on faint currents in the dead air.  **

*There are dreams.  And everyone's living in them.*

"Alex?"

The voice came from behind me.  I heard it.  But I was still so lost in my
thoughts that I couldn't acknowledge it.  I could feel someone standing
behind me, but it was like being woken  from a vivid dream.  Everything was
far away.

I felt a warm hand rest on my shoulder and again the voice.

"Alex?"

I turned quickly, finally snapping out of my small world to see Rook
standing behind me.  His crotch was level with my eyes and I looked at it
for a second before my eyes crawled up his body to his face.  He was leaning
toward me.  His black hair fell into his eyes.

"Oh.  Hi.  I... was just... reading this.  I didn't know you were here.  Um.  Hi
Rook."

He was laughing and there was mischief on his face.  I began to blush,
feeling like I'd missed something.

"What?  Is there something in my teeth?"  I pursed my lips and began sliding
my tongue around my mouth.

"No," he leaned closer to me.  Our faces were inches apart.  He smelled of
citrus and soap and his breath was sweet against my face.  His eyes were the
color of dark honey.  My lips, however, were still pursed and my tongue was
in the front of my mouth and I looked like a complete idiot.  He brought his
hand up and in my peripheral vision I could see him point at my crotch.  I
felt myself begin to bone up.

"You've got soup on you."

I looked down at myself.  Yep.  There was soup down there alright.  It was
all over my jeans, on my shirt... wonderful.  Just wonderful.

"Shit."

I jumped up and tossed my book on the floor, reaching for some napkins in my
pocket.

"Here, give me some of those," Rook said.

I handed him a few as I began dabbing my pant leg, trying to get the big
globs off first.  Just my luck, tomato basil soup all over my jeans.  And I
looked *great* in these fucking jeans!  Son of a bitch!

That's when I felt him touching me.  He gently rubbed the napkins on my
shirt in a way that was more of a caress than anything else.  I looked up at
him as I continued to dab at my jeans.  I could feel my cock throbbing with
excitement beneath the fabric.  He was looking directly into my eyes.

"I'm sorry about your shirt," he said, never breaking eye contact.

"I could care less about this shirt.  But I love these jeans."

"You should," he gave me roguish smile.  "You look great in them."

"I do?  I do.  I mean, yes, I do."

I was floundering here.  I was completely pathetic.  I freely admit that
I've never been so struck by a person as I was by Rook, and that is the only
defense I have for my witless response.  But Rook took it all in step,
seeing beyond my idiotic awkwardness in the way only he can.

"If you want, we could try to get the stain out."  He never looked away from
me as he said this.  His eyes were intense.  His hands moved gently over my
stomach.

"Um... sure.  What do we need?"

"Just take me back to your dorm room and I'll show you."

Now that, gentlemen, is what I call *smooth*.  How could I resist?

"Ok.  Let's go."

"One sec.  Just let me grab my books."

As he turned back to the piano to grab some music books, I adjusted my
erection down my pant leg and covered it with my novel which I grabbed off
the floor.  He turned back to me.

"Alright," he smiled electrically.  "Let's go get you out of those pants."



My room was always dark.  They had those *stupid* fluorescent lights in the
ceiling and they sucked the life out of the room.  Also, when you read as
much as I do, you realize that certain light is good for reading -- other
light, not so much.  Fluorescent light is on the "not so much" side of
things.  So I exercised my only logical option.  I loosened the bulbs so
that even if the switch was flipped, they wouldn't turn on and brought in
two lamps.

My desk lamp was small and probably older than I am.  I have it to this
day.  It's base is a deep brass, the body of it a wood with a simple design,
the lampshade an off white color with faded green leaves plastered at random
in a decorative pattern.  When I turn it on it gives off this wonderful
golden glow and creates a gentle sphere in which I can safely live in my
book world.

Whereas I thought of my desk lamp as an old friend, the floor lamp was a
bossy bitch (if a lamp can be called such a thing), but it had a style all
its own.  It cast a strong, inoffensive glow about the room and I turned
this one on when I had company so that people didn't have to sit around in
twilight.

My shades were usually kept drawn against the sun.  Frequently I would come
back to my peaceful room, kept cool by the deep shadows, and catch a short
nap or study.

Keys rattled, a lock snapped open, and the door slowly opened, allowing the
hallway lights to spill in to my dark sanctuary.  We entered and the door
closed swiftly behind us.  Faint light trickled between the spaces in the
blinds.  I could feel him standing close behind me.  I walked forward and
switched on my desk light, creating an easy dusk in the welcome gloom.

He stood about three steps away from me, wrapped in shadows.  His dark hair
slightly in his eyes.  The contrast between light and dark make him look
especially lean, and his eyes gleamed with an impish lust.

He crossed those three steps in an instant.  It was like he hadn't moved.
It was more as if the distance between us had simply vanished, bringing two
parts that belonged together close.

"You have... such beautiful eyes."  His voice was a husky whisper.  I could
tell he was looking at the slight wedges of grey that briefly interrupt the
near perfect green circles of my eyes.  His breath was on my lips.  His eyes
half closed as he leaned in and gently kissed me.  It was soft... the gentlest
kiss I've ever received.  But behind that gentleness was a passion that made
me weak.  He barely brushed my lips with his kiss, and continued to do so as
I felt my belt unclasp.  I could taste his breath now.

My pants fell to the floor.

We parted and there was this dreamy look in his eyes.  I could see pure
contentment in the warm brown color, his smiling lips making me want to
press myself against him and connect with him again.  I leaned in slowly,
but he brought up his finger and placed it on my mouth.  His fingers were
soft and strong.

"First let me make good on my promise."

He put his other hand on my shoulder, and slowly sank down to the floor,
trailing his hand down my chest and abs as he descended.  His tousled hair
brushed against my sensitive erection and I couldn't suppress a shudder.
That hand traveled down my thigh and calf, until it rested at my feet.

"Step."

I lifted my foot, spellbound at his beauty and control.  He removed my pant
leg from my foot and looked up at me, his white teeth gleaming in the weak
light.

"Come on, now the other," there was tender laughter in his voice as he said
this.

He picked my pants up off the floor and reached out his free hand for mine.
The pads of his fingers were like velvet against my own.  The contact was so
soft, it seemed unreal.  He lead me to the bathroom and switched on the
light.

"Do you have an extra toothbrush?"

I nodded and walked past him to the medicine cabinet behind the mirror.  My
penis was as transfixed by this boy as I was, and it bumped the sink as I
reached for the toothbrush and handed it to him.

He leaned forward again to offer me another gentle kiss and rested his
forehead against my own, breaking our contact to whisper his next question.

"And toothpaste?"

I handed him the tube.  His hand slipped out of my own and he rinsed my
pants with warm water and applied some toothpaste to the stain.

"I don't know why," he said, "but this always worked for mom."

He scrubbed lightly at the stains with the toothbrush, turning his eyes to
me again as he continued his work.  In seconds he was done.

"Now just let these dry and when you wash them they should be as good as
new."

We looked at each other, the sexual energy thick in the air.  He smiled
sinisterly at me.

"Well, I better get going..." he turned to leave.

"Like hell you are!"

I rushed forward with those words and pressed my body against him.  We had
played his game long enough.  It had been fun -- now it was my turn.  I
mashed my lips against his, our air mingling together in a sweet union of
breath.  My hands went around his head, pulling him as tightly against me as
I could.  His hands spread over my back, one on my waist pulling me tight to
his body and the other between my shoulders pressing our chests together.

We battled back and forth, our young lust inflamed by our need for each
other.  My hands were twisting through his hair as his mouth came down my
neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there.  We staggered out of the
bathroom, our twining limbs groping and touching and pulling and grasping.
Our mouths hungry for each other.  Saliva was slick on our lips and on my
neck as I ground my crotch into his.  He thrust his hips back in response.

Our shirts came off without us parting.  Hot skin rubbed together, the
friction tantalizing as I began to nibble at his ear.  He gasped as my warm,
moist breath sighed across that sensitive area.  My hands were fumbling with
his pants as we tumbled onto my bed.

I pulled him back up to me as he kicked his pants free.  Only thin fabric
separated our incredible desire.  I was lightheaded from the sensations,
from the lack of air, from the raw sexual energy between us.  My breath was
ragged and gasping, as was his, but we came together in another urgent
kiss.  His hair was feather soft as he lowered himself to suck at my
nipple.  I threw my head back and exhaled loudly as he worked my tit, my one
hand stroking his hair as my other grasped his stiff cock through his
shorts.  His hand played with my other nipple as the other slipped beneath
my waistband to massage my ass.

In one furious motion he stripped me, and looked up at me with sex in his
eyes.  The heat in my room was unreal.  I could feel him slide against me as
he lowered his mouth to the head of my cock.  His tongue toyed with my piss
slit before slowly engulfing my bulbous head.  He stayed like that a while,
swirling his tongue over the head of my dick, his hands still tweaking my
nipple and massaging my ass.

My back arched as I grunted and thrust my hips.  I wanted more.  He obliged
by going farther down on me, his soft lips moving inch by inch down my
shaft.  He pulled up for air and although I immediately regretted his
absence, I pushed him down on the bed and tore off his shorts, eager to
reciprocate.

His member sprang free of the fabric, audibly slapping against his lean
torso.  I reached to message him and toy with his balls even as he moved
back to my crotch, consuming me once again.  I was panting wildly as he
continued to swirl his tongue.  His hands trailed all over my body now, one
moment caressing my thigh, the next my chest, the next massaging my boiling
balls.  They brushed against my hole and continued to rub my ass cheeks.

"No, not yet," I panted.  My hands hooked beneath his armpits and pulled him
up to my face.  We crushed together, kissing violently.  I then traveled
down his neck, stopping to tongue the hollow of his throat.  My hands
stroked and touched and jerked him slowly as I made my way down his body.  I
gently glided my tongue around his nipples, down the center of his chest,
between his faint abs.  My hands followed my journey, tracing sensually the
areas my tongue had missed.  My fingertips found the contours of his muscles
and lightly dragged down them as I came face to face with his beautiful
dick.

My hands went to his ass, each hand working a cheek as I quickly went down
on him.  I could feel him shudder and hear him groan as I returned the
favor.  I licked up and down his shaft, oiling it with my spit before I
swallowed him down to his pubes.  He bucked his hips wildly, trying to get
deeper into my warm mouth.  He whimpered as I moved up to the head of his
cock and swirled my tongue.  Then I felt his warm hands on my face and he
pulled me up, my sweat slick body sliding against his as we met again in a
passionate kiss.

"Condoms?" He asked breathlessly.

I rolled to the side of my bed, tore open a drawer, reached in, pulled one
out, and then returned to this sexual god before me.  I heard him tear the
foil even as his fingers began probing my hole.  First one, just loosening
me up.  I needed him, I thrust hard against his digit as he slipped the
condom over his dick.

Two fingers now.  My cock was hard against my stomach, and soon my hands
were jerking my meat and playing with my balls even as I thrust against his
long, powerful fingers.

"You ready?" He gasped.

I flexed my abs, picking my back off the bed and reaching my hand to catch
him around the neck, pulling him into a fierce kiss.

"Is that a good enough answer?"  He grinned in response.

I could feel his head at my hole now and I relaxed as he pushed in.  First
it was only the head.  He moved slowly.  Deliberately.  And as he stretched
my tunnel he leaned forward to kiss again.

I felt the overwhelming burst of pleasure as he rubbed against my prostate.
I whimpered out loud, nearly cumming as he pushed deeper inside me.  As his
pubes brushed my ass, our eyes locked again.  His were a mix of pleasure and
joy and completeness and lust and as he looked at me I knew he loved me as
well.

He stroked my sweaty sides as he pulled out and slammed into me again.  Soon
he began fucking in earnest, his hips moving quickly, his face dripping
sweat onto me, his body flushing with sexual energy as I moaned and cooed
and thrashed on my sheets.  I began to buck against him as his hands began
playing with my sac.  My hand pumped furiously along my shaft.  I could hear
his balls slapping against my ass.

"More!" I shouted.  He picked up the pace, his hair separating into sweaty
strands, his eyes becoming lost in ecstasy, and in the final moments of that
glorious fuck I closed my eyes as we both climaxed.

I could feel him pulsing inside me the moment I shuddered in my own orgasm.
Cum spattered against my abs and chest.  He rested back on his calves,
panting, slowly sliding out of me.  I breathed ragged breaths as I stared up
at him.  He fell forward, stopping himself with his arms just above my
naval.  He licked his way up my stomach, swallowing my cum as he went.  He
lapped his way up to my neck and then we kissed again, our sweaty hair
mingling on my pillow.  Still holding each other, our sweaty bodies
glistening in the soft light from my desk lamp, we embraced and smiled
tiredly at each other.  We fell asleep looking into each other's eyes, our
limbs comfortably tangled as we both departed to a land of warm darkness.

The last thought I had before falling asleep in the arms of this vibrant,
sexy man was this: *But beyond any of those details of the real, there are
dreams.  And everyone's living in them...*