Date: Sun, 30 May 1999 15:42:02 EDT
From: EBayBarber@aol.com
Subject: TKE, Chapter 10

Chapter 10:  Chad Drops In

The following Friday I headed back to the fraternity after my last class of
the day.  I was almost whistling as I opened the door to the house.  I had a
DATE.  I don't know if HE'D call it a date, maybe he'd just call is a "study
session" or "tutoring."  I called it a date.

I was heading out of my Differential Equations class, looking forward to
another fine weekend, when I heard somebody calling, "Ian!  Hey, Ian!  Wait
up!"  I had turned around only to find the cute blond guy from the row ahead
of me, hurrying to catch up with me.

Naturally I slowed down.  WHENEVER a cute guy indicates he wants to talk with
me I slow down.  "What's up, Kevin?" I asked.  I also took the opportunity to
study him as he drew closer.  Kevin was around my height, that is to say
5"11", 160 pounds or so, on the slim side, and with a good, athletic build.
He was wearing a tight PiKA shirt (PiKA equals Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity, for
those of you who aren't into the "Greek" system, as fraternities are called.)
 It showed off his tan nicely-Kevin was fair skinned, and probably tanned
easily, you know, typical Irish or English body-type, and had obviously been
spending time in the sun.  Kevin had blond hair parted in the middle (I LOVE
that) and hanging halfway down his back (I get a HARD ON over that!)

His shirt sleeves wrapped tightly around his upper arms, showing off the
muscles he'd gotten as a varsity wrestler (I only knew that Kevin wrestled
'cause I went to a practice match once, only to see one of my fellow TKEs
whip his ass.  Well, actually not whipped, it was a decision on points as
Kevin and Brian, my fraternity brother, were closely matched.  Kevin looked
GREAT in a wrestling suit; it showed off a bulge in his pants which I was
eager to get my hands-or mouth-on).  I could see two perky little tits
jutting out from Kevin's nicely-built chest whenever the shirt moved the
right way..

Kevin was wearing shorts.  It was, in my mind, borderline shorts weather.
But I was willing to make the sacrifice of looking at Kevin's muscular
legs-wrestling will do that to you-if Kevin was willing to make the sacrifice
of wearing shorts on a cool day.  The shorts also fitted snugly over tight
hips, and showed off a nice package whereof I've already spoken.

All this I saw as Kevin caught up to me (actually, I was just CONFIRMING it;
I'd already scoped Kevin out in previous classes over the years, but we ran
in different circles which had not, so far, intersected very much).  "What's
up?" I again repeated as Kevin came almost within hugging distance (with
someone THAT cute, my hugging distance is QUITE far!)

"I missed last Wednesday's class," Kevin said.  I had known that-without
Kevin to look at and fantasize about, the class was otherwise pretty boring.
"I wanted to know if I could borrow your notes."

I said, "Sure," and stopped to get out the right notebook.  I flipped it open
to the right spot, took out some of the pages and handed them to him.  He was
standing, I thought, a lot closer than I would have.  Or maybe it was just my
imagination.  Or my fantasy.

"Thanks," Kevin said, taking the papers and stuffing them into his backpack.
We started walking down the corridor side by side; I guess he was done for
the week also.  "Say," Kevin said after a while.  "I know you're good at this
stuff.  I'm okay, but it's a struggle.  We have that test coming up next
week"  [Good thing he reminded me; I'd almost forgotten about it.  Maybe I'd
have to stay sober and straight-make that un-stoned-this weekend so I could
study.  Nah.]  "I was wondering if maybe we could study together, you know,
go over the extra problems and all."  After a pause he added, "I'd even pay
you.  I know you sometimes tutor for extra cash."

I said, "I'd be happy to help you.  And you don't have to pay me.  Maybe you
can buy me dinner or something."  I had LOTS of ideas about what that
"something" could be.  None of them was clean.

We debated back and forth as we walked across campus, when and where to meet.
 We finally settled on Saturday, the next day, around 4, at his place.  Kevin
had a wrestling match earlier in the afternoon, and I like to keep my Sundays
free to do all of the homework which I should have been doing during the
week.  And the PiKA house had a study room, so we'd have a place to spread
out where we wouldn't be disturbed.

By then Kevin and I'd reached the split in the sidewalk where one path led to
the "upper houses," where TKE was located, the other down the hill to the
"lower houses," where the PiKA mansion was.  Kevin and I said our good byes
and went our separate ways.  I was whistling and almost skipping as I went
towards the TKE house, "I have a date.  I have a date."  Like I said, I
called it a date.  Would he?

I got back to the house and was heading across the living room to the back
stairwell, where the mailbox was, when I was accosted by a stranger sitting
on one of the lounge chairs.  "Ian?" he asked.  "By any chance are you Ian?"
he asked as he stood up.

I turned to look at him.

He was about 6 1 and had brown hair and brown eyes, and no facial hair.  He
looked liked he weighed maybe 180, and had the heft and build of a football
player.  Not first string, he didn't look massive enough for that, well maybe
a tight end or something (since I hadn't seen him from the rear, I couldn't
tell if he had a tight end.)

He was dressed casually, but well, in khakis, a Polo shirt (I could see the
logo on his breast), with just a hint of hair poking out at the neck, and
Timberlands on his feet.  You know, like what any other Ivy League college
student wears.  He even had the requisite gold chain around his neck and
class ring on one finger.  A well-put-together young man, the kind your
mother wished you would be.  Or at least look like.

He stuck out his hand.  "Hi, I'm Chad," he said.  "I hope you're Ian.  Vance
told me to look for you if I couldn't find him.  I haven't been able to find
him, so I hope you're Ian.  You look even better than your picture."  I
looked at him quizzically, one eyebrow cocked.  "Vance sent me your picture.
He really likes you.  Don't worry, you have clothes on."  Then he realized
what he'd just said and blushed.  "Um, sorry, um.  God, what did I just say?
I HOPE you're Ian.  If not, then I've just made a jackass of myself.  I know,
I'm babbling.  That's the way I am when I meet strangers."  Then he paused.
"You ARE Ian, aren't you?"

I almost let Chad stew by saying I wasn't but I decided to take pity on him.
I stuck out my hand to shake his.  It was already shaking, I guess he WAS
nervous.  "Yes, I'm Ian."  Then to relax him, I asked, "How do you know
Vance?"

"We went to high school together.  And did lots of things together."  ["Just
what KIND of things?" I thought."]  "His family and mine have known each
other for years.  Then he went to college here and I went down to Princeton."
 [I was RIGHT.  He WAS Ivy League.]  "We have a three-day weekend, and Vance
invited me up.  And now I can't find him."  Chad looked almost ready to cry
when he said that.

Blaine, another TKE, was just walking across the living room when Chad said
that.  "Are you looking for Vance?"  he asked.  "I think he's up in his room.
 He said he wasn't feeling well, stomach virus or flu or something.  I think
the health clinic gave him something and he's upstairs sleeping it off."
Blaine headed out the door.

Chad looked like a lost puppy dog, so I said.  "I'm not doing anything the
rest of the afternoon.  Let me throw my things in my room, then we can go get
a beer downstairs or something.  Why don't you grab your stuff and you can
stick it in my room until we find out what's up with Vance?"  Chad picked up
his backpack, apparently all the luggage he'd brought, and obediently
followed me up to my room.

We got there and dumped our stuff.  I went to my dresser and got out a bag of
dope and package of rolling paper.  "It's the weekend.  You wanna join me?" I
asked, holding up the bag.

"Sure," he said.  "Vance told me you have good dope."  Hmmm.  I'd have to
tell Vance to keep his mouth shut about that sort of thing.  I can find my
own customers, thank you very much.

I sat down on the bed and motioned for my guest to have a seat on the lounge
chair.  I rolled a joint.  While I was at it, I rolled a couple more.  We DID
have a few hours until dinner.  I picked up a lighter, took a hit, held my
breath, and handed the joint to Chad.  My doubts about whether this clean-cut
boy had ever smoked dope before were quickly dispelled by the way he held the
joint, inhaled, and held his breath, almost rolling the smoke around in his
mouth, savoring it.

I got up to put on a tape (in those days, CDs were as yet not invented.
Records were used by purists, tapes for their convenience.)  I looked through
my collection.  I wasn't in a jazz mood.  I finally found a collection of
Mozart wind concertos I hadn't heard in a while.  I like his bassoon concerto
best, but the horn and oboe concertos are also good.

Chad, it turned out, also liked classical music; he had the same tape.
Indeed, he had tapes of just about everything Mozart had written.  As we
smoked we found we had a lot in common, only starting with classical music.
We also had similar tastes in books, mostly non-fiction but also some
classics and the occasional trashy novel.  We argued about whether books made
from movies or movies made from books were better.  He liked the book version
of "The Old Man and the Sea" better than the movie.  My example was "East of
Eden."  James Dean and the rest of the cast were good in the movie, but it
only covers three or four chapters of the book, which Chad and I both agreed
was a much better book.  [There, now this story has redeeming social value,
so you can't call it porn any more!]

Somehow we'd stayed off the topic of Vance.  And the fact that Chad knew that
Vance had seen me naked and liked what he had seen, and might even have had
pictures of me.  Hell, Chad HAD to know I was gay, I didn't make any secret
of it.  I had a rainbow flag hanging on one wall, a poster of Judy on
another, and a bunch of magnets with naked guys on them on the outside of one
file cabinet  My room was impeccably decorated, considering it was in a frat
house.  The drapes matched the bedspread, and my plants were all green and in
designer pots.  All I was needed were opera records.  I HATE opera.  I
guessed Chad was gay, also, but he wasn't flagrant about it.  "Straight
acting," his ad would read.  Come to think about it, I'm pretty straight
acting myself; I only let my hair down (well, the hair that I haven't shaved
off,) when I'm around "family" and in the right setting, like at a Gay Pride
march.

By then if was a bit before 5:30, forty minutes or so before dinner.  I'd
assumed Vance had made arrangements for Chad to stay; you were supposed to
let the cook know.  Since Vance didn't seem to be around, Chad would be MY
guest.  Chad started to get up from his chair.  "Do you mind if I go take a
shower?" Chad asked.  "I'm kind of grubby from the bus trip.  And I don't
want to be sweaty for tonight's Wales Tales game."

Well, THAT answered the question about whether Chad liked boys or girls.
Then I thought, "Dammit!  I already HAVE plans for tonight.  And they don't
include a game of 'Tales.  NOW what do I do?"  I thought quickly.  "Do you
need help?" was all I could come up with.

Chad grinned at me.  "Vance said you moved quickly," Chad replied.  "I don't
think I need help in the shower.  But maybe afterwards," he added
mysteriously.  "Vance has told me about some of your special, uh, talents.
Can I borrow a towel?  I forgot mine."

Chad started stripping as he said this.  I watched, the dope making me kind
of slow to get up and get Chad a towel.  And besides, it's FUN to watch a guy
strip.  Chad stripped methodically.  First he took of his shirt, exposing a
broad chest with only a triangle of hair between two dark tits.  His back had
almost no hair.  Chad carefully folded his shirt and laid it over the arm of
the chair.

Chad caught me watching him undress.  "Go ahead and look," he said.  "I've
been working out on my upper body.  What do you think?"  Chad bent his arm,
"making a muscle," and kind of bent forward on one leg into a typical
body-builder's pose.  We both laughed at that.  We laughed again when I said,
"Not bad.  Have you been working on your MIDDLE body?"-emphasizing the word
"middle."  "You'll just have to find out for yourself," was Chad's rejoinder.

Chad sat down to take off his shoes and socks.  I got up in the meantime to
get him a clean towel for his shower.  By the time I'd gotten back to my
viewing seat on my bed, Chad had rolled up his socks and stuck them into his
shoes, which he'd then neatly set along side the chair.  Chad stood up, undid
his belt and opened his zipper.

"Just a minute," I suddenly shouted.  I got up and grabbed my camera and
turned quickly.  I got a shot of Chad slowly spreading the flaps on his
pants.  A hint of blue boxers showed.  Chris stripped out of his pants.  He
folded them and neatly laid them on top of his shirt.  I got some good shots
of him in a variety of positions.

Chad turned his back on me and grabbed the towel and wrapped it around his
waist.  He reached under and pulled off his underwear.  "Maybe later you can
have a GOOD shot of me," he said.

"I just GOT a good shot of you," I retorted.  "You look sexier with that
towel on than you would naked.  It adds more mystery.  Why do you think sexy
underwear sells so well?"

Chad grinned and said, "Well, then.  Maybe I'll let you take a BAD shot of me
later!"  He got his soap and shampoo out of his backpack and asked, "Which
way's the shower?"  I told him, and off he went.

Chad came back about fifteen minutes later.  His hair was wet and there was a
slight sheen of water on his chest and arms.  "We have about twenty-five
minutes until dinner," I told him.

"Good," he said, stripping off the towel and starting to dry his hair.  Snap,
a shot of him taking off his towel.  Snap, a shot of him drying his hair.
Snap, a shot of him standing there, holding the towel in his hand, watching
me take a picture of him.

"These aren't BAD shots," I told him.  "Why, if I squint hard, I can almost
see you have a penis!"

Chad quickly rolled up the towel and snapped it at my crotch.  Ouch!  He was
GOOD!  I felt that one through my jeans.  "Keep it up and I won't let you do
your stuff on me," Chad warned.

"What 'stuff'?" I asked.

Chad went over to his backpack and rummaged around.  He turned to me and held
out a razor blade.  "Vance told me all about your special skills.  I want you
to shave my cock and balls in preparation for tonight's Wales Tales game."
Chad sat on the edge of my bed, spread his legs, and said, "Go for it."

I knelt in front of him and took my first good look at his crotch.  Chad was
moderately hairy around his cock, which was maybe four inches soft, and
uncut.  His balls looked average, but above average in hairiness.  I'd have
my work cut out for me to get him ready for the game.

"Lie back,"  I told him.  "It's easier to get at things."  While Chad laid
flat on his back, I got up to get my clippers.  And my camera, with which I
got a couple of "before" shots.  "I'll start with these.  It's faster that
way."  Before Chad could object, I had the clippers on and was working at the
bush surrounding his cock and balls.  I merely trimmed it, to give it a neat
appearance.  I usually don't shave the entire crotches unless the guy asks me
to.  I also ran the clippers over Chad's balls, taking off as much hair as I
could, then up the sides of his cock.

I set the clippers down and got to work with the razor.  Chad had
thoughtfully left his crotch hair wet, which made it softer and easier to
shave.  I decided to do Chad's balls first.  I pulled on his sac to stretch
the skin.  As I scraped, I noticed Chad was starting to get hard.  I guess he
likes his balls played with.  Since I like playing with balls, I made sure to
roll them around and fondle them more than necessary to give a good shave.

Soon a six- to seven-inch one-eyed cobra was slowly folding back the skin
hiding its eye.  As I don't like hairy snakes, I took hold of it and started
scraping it from top to base.  And what a pretty snake Chad had!  Chad was
very much cut; he had almost no foreskin at all.  His cock head made a very
pretty picture with the ring exposed, just barely circled with the remaining
skin.

"Before I check out my work," I need you to bring up your knees," I told
Chad.  Chad scooted up the bed a little, and lifted his legs, bending his
knees so that his ankles were just on the edge of my bed.  I took hold under
his knees with one hand, and pushed up and back, getting him in a position to
be fucked.  I noticed his cock twitching a little, in anticipation.  But I
wasn't planning to fuck Chad, just to shave his perineum.

I managed to lift up Chad's smooth balls with the same arm I had under his
knees.  I scraped away; the skin between Chad's balls and ass was nearly
smooth, anyway.  "He'd look good with a guiche," I thought, as I plucked at
the soft skin there.  While I was at it, I lightly ran the blade down the
sides of Chad's asshole, not that it really needed it.  I just wanted to
see-and feel-it  Chad didn't protest, maybe he WANTED me to fuck him.

I set Chad's legs down again, then said, "Look sexy.  I want to take some
shots of you."  Chad moved around, trying to look sexy.  I got shots of him
lying on his side, one knee raised.  I got a shot of him "humping" the
ceiling.  I got a shot of him with his ass up in the air.  DID he want me to
fuck him?

"Turn over on your back, again," I ordered.  "I need to inspect my work and
make sure I didn't miss anything.  I have my reputation as a barber to
maintain."  Chad rolled over and laid there with his legs spread.  His cock
had subsided to half-hardness.  As I inspected it, and played with it, and
razed away a few stray hairs, it hardened again.

"The best way for me to tell if I missed anything is with my tongue," I said.
 I leaned forward and started tickling Chads ball sac with the tip of my
tongue.  I HAD missed some spots; I quickly touched them up.  I decided we
still had a few minutes before dinner, so I went for broke.

I took Chad's balls in my mouth and started rolling them around with my
tongue.  Chad moaned with pleasure.  I ran my tongue between them, then over
them.  I pulled back gently, stretching Chad's sac.  He moaned again and
reached for his hard cock, which I could see had a drop of pearly pre-cum at
its tip.  I slapped his hand away so that I could play with it.  And play I
did.  As I worked on Chad's balls-he seemed to be able to take it harder than
most guys, but when I squeezed with my mouth he finally mumbled, "Easy,
there.  That's not a rubber ball in your mouth."

I reached under my bed and got out some lube.  Before Chad could protest too
much I was running my finger up and down his ass crack and soon had my middle
finger up his asshole up to the second knuckle.  I guessed he'd had things up
there before; my finger slipped in without much trouble.

I was having a marvelous time, working my hand on Chad's cock up and down,
stretching the foreskin over the tip, then exposing the glans, then
stretching it upward again.  I was sucking on and licking and fondling Chad's
balls with my mouth.  I was finger-fucking him with the other hand; I soon
had TWO fingers up there.  If we'd had more time I was pretty sure I could
get my own one-eyed snake up there.

But we ran out of time.  The dinner bell rang.  Chad tried to sit up.  I took
my mouth from Chad's cock and said, "Relax.  That's just the first bell.  We
have five minutes 'til dinner starts."  With that, I sucked in Chad's balls
and started working on them, Chad's cock, and his ass in earnest.

"I'm cumming!" Chad shouted.  Since I didn't want to spoil my dinner, I aimed
Chad's cock at his chest.  I pumped out one spray of cum, then another and
another.  A pattern of droplets ranged from one tit-the guy had some range-to
where the treasure trail would have been had I not just shaved it off.  I
kept pumping, draining Chad.  He put his hand down there, to push mine away,
but I kept pumping, long past when I was sure he was drained.  Finally he
gasped, "Enough," and I stopped.

I stood up and grabbed my camera and got a shot of Chad, with newly shaved
cock and balls, neatly trimmed pubes, and a chest full of cum.  "Vance'll
like this one," I thought to myself.

Chad sat up, looking around for the towel and his clothes.  I handed him the
towel and we wiped off his chest, the reached between his legs to wipe off
the lube.  I used another towel to wipe off my fingers.  Chad, in the
meantime, was throwing on his underwear and socks, then shirt, then finally
his pants, neatly tucking in his shirt as he pulled them on.

Chad sat down to put his shoes on, then suddenly leaned forward.  He grabbed
my crotch, which had been bulging; my cock eager to join the party.  I could
feel the wetness of my own pre-cum down there; I was glad I had on a pair of
heavy cotton underwear or there'd have been a wet spot on the from of my
jeans.  "When am I going to get to play with yours?" Chad asked.

"Vance may be too sick to play tonight, or to be much of a host.  Why don't
you sleep HERE tonight?"  I suggested.  "We have sleeping bags for extra
guests.  That's probably what Vance had planned for you.  I know Jeff,
Vance's roommate, is here this weekend.  You can see Vance TOMORROW."  After
a pregnant pause I added, "And you can see ME tonight.  I'll be back by 1:00
at the latest.  Your Tales game should be done by then.  I'll make sure to
get you a sleeping bag and pillow before I leave."  Not that I expected us to
get much sleep that night.

We didn't.