Date: Mon, 5 Feb 2001 23:47:57 -0500
From: ultf113 <ultf113@subdimension.com>
Subject: Turning Wheels

Turning Wheels

By The Ultimate Femme
Not Copyrighted

"I'll see you guys in class, just gotta check my mail," I said, getting
up from the cafeteria table.

The morning sun made thick beams through the high dining hall windows.
I carried the tray through the maze of busy tables.  A handsome young
guy made eye contact with a subtle, knowing grin.  I had noticed him
last semester, struck by how good looking he was.  I didn't know his
name, and had no reason to talk to him, so I briefly smiled back and
kept walking the tray to the kitchen's humming conveyor belt.

I wondered why he always seemed to be looking my way.  Sometimes I
caught myself glancing around for him as I ate with the guys from my
floor.  I had never noticed anyone quite like him.  Unlike the rest of
us, he maintained a beautifully groomed appearance.  His dark red hair
was buzzed and trimmed so precisely on the sides and back, and he must
have used gel to make it a little spiky on top.  His clean, bright
clothes (when I noticed them) flattered his slender figure, and he never
went with the Trend That Would Not Die, the baggy look.  He seemed to
give off a delicate elegance, an effect enhanced by the graceful way he
moved.

Looking back, it's strange to think I could ever let another guy make an
impression that way.  At the time, I didn't think about it.  I just
thought he was more handsome than the norm, which wasn't hard given my
generation's prevailing slobbishness.  I thought everybody noticed him
too.

I left the echoing talk of the cafeteria and clicked down the large
white hall toward the wall of mailboxes.  I reached in the front pocket
of my faded jeans and got my keychain.  Finding box 323, I slid the
little key in and opened the square door.  There was a phone bill, a
pizza flyer, and a plain DVD case with "323" and a little smile face
written on a post-it note.  Hmmm.  I opened the case and saw the DVD was
decorated with a slanted drawing of an in-line skate.  I put the mail in
my backpack, went out in the chilly air, and walked across campus to
class.

I sat with the guys in the Trigonometry lecture hall, and forgot about
the mail.  The professor went through his boring topic of the day, and
we took a multiple choice test.  My college was a bit of a joke.
Everything academic was a breeze for me, since I had made A's and B's in
high school with minimum effort.  It was the social environment that I
was having trouble with.  Transitioning from a monk-like lifestyle as a
shy, sober teen to the sensory assault of alcohol, drugs, sexual
desperation, and loud music favored by the other "students" was too
much.  I'm not against having fun, but it was annoying to put up with
drunken yelling 'til 3 A.M. from Thursday to Sunday.

Since my next class was a few hours away, I hit the library to finish
the assigned Trig problems.  I got out my laptop to check email when I
was done.  No messages.  Just as I started to fold down the screen, I
remembered the DVD.

The screen went black and the little green drive light came on.  I wore
my headphones, then plugged in.  The movie showed people roller skating
by the beach in Southern California.  The pulsing, semi-tribal music
matched the slow-motion tricks on screen.  Everyone looked good, and the
girls wore tight, shiny leotards in a multitude of dazzling patterns.  I
didn't want to draw a crowd, so I moved from the big study table to a
more private carrel desk.  There was an amazing tracking shot of five
girls in a line holding on to each other's hips, their legs
synchronized.  Suddenly they were leaping over a concrete bench and
letting go in mid-air.  The leaders smiled and looked back as the scene
dissolved into sparkling waves.  Then He appeared.

He was the best trick skater I'd ever seen.  He flew and did spins off
the crude ramps set up by the others.  Instead of the common expression
of serious concern, his face showed concentrated enjoyment.  He was a
master, and the camera stayed with him for a good ten minutes.  I was
hypnotized, especially by what he was wearing.

He had big black skates with red wheels.  He had a black skater's
helmet.  He had cool glossy black knee, elbow, and wrist guards.  And...
And... A red Speedo swimsuit.  That was all!  His mature, strong body,
so tan and sculpted, was absolutely incredible.  The slow motion camera
did multiple close up studies of his waist and torso during mid-air
spins.  He was manly in a way none of us freshmen would be for ten years.

His moves were amazing, especially the effortless way he was able to
land on his toe wheel and slip back into ground gliding.  This movie (it
wasn't shot on video) was excellent.  The skaters danced and flew
through the lovely seaside park, delighting the onlookers.  I loved
seeing the little skate wheels keep spinning in slow motion as the
skaters soared past.  The sharply recorded electronica soundtrack was
perfect.  I had to hurry to my next class when the 47 minute DVD ended.

Part II

After dinner that night, I watched the DVD again.  This was my first
exposure to homoerotic images, but I was too dense to realize it.  All I
knew was how much I loved the show, and kept replaying the "Dave
Wrightson" chapter to behold his awesome moves.  His body was just
right, big enough to look like a superhero, but not grotesquely
overmuscled.  His Speedo didn't have the tell-tale pointy bulge of small-
dicked bodybuilders.  It was cool how his arm and leg muscles flexed and
firmed back to shape when he landed.  I convinced myself I was just
enjoying the skater's skill, but my eyes kept locking on his magnificent
body.  I had never had the opportunity to really *look* at a nearly-nude
guy before, and my mind drank his undeniable beauty in.  I put the DVD
away and went down the hall to brush my teeth.

Nobody on the floor asked me about the DVD, so the donor was a mystery.
I went back to my single-bed dorm room thinking who it could have been.
I liked the little smile face on the label.  I put the case on the shelf
and went to bed to read through the political science assignment.

I took off my clothes and crawled into the soft warm blankets of my
bed.  After ten minutes in the dark, I couldn't fall asleep.  I turned
on the lamp and naturally began my masturbation routine.  I liked my
body.  It was in good shape, but I wasn't obsessed with exercise.  With
my youthful metabolism, long campus walks, and occasional in-line
skating, I just looked lean and natural, and didn't have to think about
it.  Some of my best orgasms back home had come when I was jacking off
and looking at myself in my older sister's tilting full length oval
mirror.  I had even known some extra special pleasures when I positioned
another mirror so I could watch my ass clench and unclench.  I would
never tell anybody about it, but assumed most guys did it too, since
guy's and girl's asses are kind of the same.  Looking at your own ass is
close to looking at a girl's, and it was fun to pretend.

My right hand moved along my cock, stretching my foreskin back and
pulling it smoothly forward into a momentary hood.  My hot, hard dick
felt great in my hand as I got into a thrusting, rolling motion.  I
looked at the swimsuit model poster on the door.  I focused on her
beautiful face and long, tightly curled blonde hair.  My eyes would
flash down to her red bikini bottom.  As I began to come, my mind
flashed briefly to Dave Wrightson's perfect red Speedo.  I breathed
harder and reached for my come-catching light blue washcloth.  As my
orgasm built, I reasserted mental control and refocused on the girl in
the poster.  I came mechanically, with no emotional satisfaction.  I
denied the embarrassing thought about Dave, and told myself it didn't
mean anything.  As I turned off the lamp, I glanced back at the poster.
She didn't seem as beautiful as I used to think.

Part III

The next morning was normal.  I had breakfast, went to class, blah blah
blah.  The world was normal, but I felt weird.  I had just seen the most
beautiful human being doing the most graceful moves on that DVD
yesterday, but had spoiled it with a half second of masturbatory
thought.  I didn't even want to think of what it meant.  There was no
way I could be a fag.  No way.

I got into a sick cycle of denial, thought suppression, and mental
conflict.  By day, I threw myself fully into coursework.  By night, I
had dreams.  Vivid dreams of the red Speedo skater.  I could skate
behind him and feel the need to touch his waist.  I had wet dream after
wet dream about him, coming uncontrollably as I touched his firm, strong
body gliding through the sunlight and palm tree shadows.  I even dreamed
of him stripping off his skating gear and showering naked.  Why the hell
was this happening?

The more I pushed these unwanted thoughts down, the more they tried to
surface.  I was so damn aware of what was happening, but had no clue how
to get out of it.  These thoughts and feelings seemed totally new.  A
few weeks ago, I thought I was normal, and sex would happen when I grew
up and fell in love with the right girl.  Now, the thought of being
together with the *maleness* of another fueled my sick but fascinating
desires.  I was messed up!

I was tense one night at bedtime.  I decided to force myself to
masturbate and think about girls, just to "prove" I was straight.  I
started in, having difficulty getting anything going.  I enjoyed
masturbation, and it had always been a simple, solo pleasure.  To tell
the truth, I had stopped thinking about girls after the first two weeks
since my magic discovery at age 13.  It was obvious girls didn't go
around looking for sex, the most wonderful feeling I had ever known, so
they were kind of a turn off.  There were so many steps involved in the
effort to impress them, and it didn't seem worth it to me.  I gave up
early and decided to let them make the first move, since I didn't have
any chick-acquiring skills.

Masturbating wasn't working.  I was empty, and it didn't feel good to do
this with no satisfaction.  I thought, if I can't prove I'm straight, at
least I can prove I'm not gay.  Just the word made my prick harden.  I
made up the most outlandish gay fantasy I could think of.  I would get
up one day in the dorm cafeteria, go right over to that guy with the
dark red spiky hair, and kiss him.  Then we would hug and go upstairs to
my room.  We would be all horny as we stripped each other awkwardly
through our kisses and hot embraces....  I would run my fingers through
his velvety buzzed hair and hold him so tight...

The fantasy was coming so easily.  My penis felt more alive and full of
energy than I ever thought it could be.  I was jacking off in a trance
of hot, exhaustingly vigorous yet effortless motion.  My old identity
dissolved in the exquisitely perfect pleasure of being gay.  I thought
of him holding me naked, his hands moving down to my ass.  This image
drove me over the edge, and I came, strongly shooting four more spurts
at the end than usual.  I can't just say "I had an orgasm".  I had a
shuddering, bursting tidal wave of totally released ecstasy and absolute
satisfaction.  I was glowing.  The tip of my penis was stinging, which
hadn't happened for years.  If this was being gay, it was nothing to run
away from.  Totally drained of energy and tension, I fell into a deep,
deeply relaxing night of peaceful sleep.

The next morning, the conflict returned.  In this culture, it just
wasn't sane to choose a gay life.  The other guys would kill me.  My
parents would never understand.  I could never live in my hometown or go
to a high school reunion.  I recoiled from thinking about gay
stereotypes.  This sucked!  I took a deep breath and prepared for
morning breakfast with the guys.  I *had* to eat with them, even though
I was getting tired of their crude sex talk and detailed conversations
about car engine modifications.  I jacked off in the shower to my gay
fantasy, and it was incredibly good.  It was also a relief to *use* the
forbidden energy instead of unhealthily clamping it down inside.

The cute guy was there in the cafeteria.  He was sitting with a group of
girls and guys from his floor, and seemed to be inviting me over with
his friendly glances.  I didn't respond.  I was too confused about my
queer situation.  I knew I was queer, too.  Straight guys just *were*
that way, and didn't have to prove it too themselves.  I was different.
Being gay (I still wasn't used to using the word) was one thing, but
being gay in this world was about the worst thing that could happen.  I
played it safe and tried to hide it.

Part IV

Three weeks had gone by since I beheld the red Speedo movie on my
laptop.  When I walked by the table of my fantasy guy one morning after
breakfast, he reached out and gently grabbed my wrist.

"Did you like the skating DVD I gave you?", he asked.

"Yeah.  It was amazing", I said.

He smiled and said, "I noticed you skated some mornings, so I thought
you might like it.  For some reason I noticed your box number one day
when you got your mail, so..."

"Thanks.  Do you want it back?", I asked.

"No, it's a copy from my computer, you can keep it.  By the way, I'm
Matt.  Good to meet you."

"I'm Alden.  Thanks for the movie."

"Alden, eh?  I didn't want to sign the DVD, in case you thought I was
weird or something", he said, getting a smile and touching the top of my
hand briefly.  He scratched his ear and said, "Do you want to go skating
some time?  I know the best place."

"Sure.  How about tomorrow?"

"Yeah, it's best in the morning before the crowds.  Meet you in the
south library plaza...around 6:30?"

"Sounds good, I'll be there Matt."

"All right.  See ya.", he said.  We smiled and I dropped off my tray on
the black conveyor to the dishwashing area.  It was nice to have a
date...A date?  Guys don't date guys.  The Rules of society were
permanently branded on my mind...  It was annoying.  But I thought
nothing weird could happen if we were just skating around.

The school day came and went.  To be honest, it was exciting to move
around the familiar college with my wonderful secret.  Being inwardly
gay meant I could enjoy myself with no hostility from mean jerks looking
for weakness.  As the hours passed, I felt better and better about
myself.  Knowing how satisfying masturbation could be was reassuring.
Things weren't as bad as I thought.

Part V

All the inner strife about my self discovery distracted me from the
mystery of the mailbox DVD.  Now that I knew it was Matt, it was cool.
The way he touched my hand and smiled was smooth, and even...
affectionate.  God, if he was gay too, it would be so great.  I wondered
if he liked the Dave Wrightson chapter as much as I did.  My wet dreams
had stopped last week and I had openly fantasized about being with him
that night, peeling down those Speedos as I watched the DVD again.

Men are usually portrayed in narrow ways in American culture.  They're
confined to suit-wearing bullies or hard-hat wearing loudmouths in most
shows.  You almost never saw male ballet dancers on network TV.  Any
sign of grace was discouraged for us, and the acceptance of gay
characters was often an excuse to make degradingly simplistic jokes in
prime time.  But Dave Wrightson's incredible body moving smoothly
through space was an awesome combination of athleticism and art.  The
film makers' use of close ups and dissolves was breathaking.  The man
could fly, and seeing him in slow motion, in the golden morning light,
was better than watching him in person at normal speed.  Playing back
the closeups of his turning waist in super slow motion was perfect for
jacking off too!  My gay feelings were taking over, now that I knew how
good they could be.  My gay feelings.  It had a nice ring.

I woke early and had some Honey Nut Cheerios for breakfast.  Since I
knew skating would make me sweaty, I didn't bother showering.  I grabbed
my skate gear and went down the concrete stairwell and out into the
purple dawn.

Birds sang in the still air.  The morning star shined through the cold,
silvery clouds.  As I walked toward the library, I felt nervous.  How
would this thing go?  Did Matt see something in me that gave my true
nature away?  Was my gayness just a fantasy, or would I freak out if it
became real?  How would I handle myself if anything happened?  I was so
unsure about the paths before me.  I almost wanted Matt to greet me with
a hug just so we could be sure about each other.

I arrived first, at 6:20.  I took off my boots and put them under the
bench, then put on my skates and pads.  It was early spring, and about
40 degrees F, so I was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve T shirt.
Matt sure was right about the south plaza.  The white concrete was new
and vast, with some areas of benches and plants.  A huge blue metal
sculpture of twisting ribbons stood near the center.  I stood up and
rolled out.

My wheels made no noise on the smooth surface.  Pushing off was a
breeze.  Crows flew under the setting moon as the eastern sky turned
pink.  I saw a figure approach, carrying things in both hands.  It felt
great to make a long circular turn toward him.  When I saw it was Matt,
I waved.  He waved back and went to my bench.  I skated fast across the
plaza, and circled to a stop under the sculpture.

Matt came skating over with a smile.  He was wearing (I couldn't believe
it), a dark blue cycling leotard.  That was kind of a signal, I
guess...!  His slim body looked wonderful as he moved near.

"Hey, man", I said in a friendly voice.

"Glad you made it", he replied.  I was noticing how gentle his voice
was.  I liked it.

"Let's go around a few times", I said.

"Okay."

We skated silently to the edge of the square, then took off in
counterclockwise laps.  I tried to judge how near we should skate.  This
was such a bizarre, uncertain situation!  On the first turn, he poured
on the speed.  I chased.  Compared to the rough asphalt of my hometown,
this was hyperspace.  Matt looked back with a smile as I caught up.  He
peeled away before the second turn and pushed toward the sculpture.  I
kept cruising on the plaza's edge.

Since there was no one else around, I went all out for speed.  Even with
cleaned, freshly greased bearings and new wheels, I had never gone this
fast.  It was tiring, so I put my right skate in front and rolled for a
while.  The contractors must have been extremely careful to make the
plaza level, because it took a long, long time to slow down.  This place
would be my skating destination from now on.

God, Matt was beautiful in the misty orange light.  I turned toward him
and approached the sculpture where he was resting.  I didn't care about
what might happen.  I had to know.  I had to make a move.

I zig zagged to slow down, then pointed my toes together like a skier to
stop.  Silently, we stood face to face.  The wind strengthened as I
lifted my hands to his hips.  He smiled.  The sun began shining on us.
Matt slid his hands around my waist and we rolled together to hug.

"I found you", he whispered.

Tiny raindrops began to drizzle down gently.  With every heartbeat, my
erection grew.  In his arms, I felt completely at home.

He kissed me on the cheek.  My hands reached down his beltless lycra
outfit to feel the roundness of his ass.  He was so warm and gentle!

"I've never felt this way for anyone", I told him, our faces inches
apart.

"From the first day I saw you, I knew you could be the one", he said.
We tilted our heads to get our helmets out of the way then leaned in for
a soft, tender kiss.  I felt little fireworks exploding in my chest.

We parted and let the real world come back.  The drizzle and wet
concrete were turned to living gold by the rising sun.  I saw every
droplet on his helmet and shoulders.

"Come on, let's go to my place", he said.  Of course I agreed.

We skated to the bench to change out of our equipment.

"I can't believe I moved first", I said.

"Baby, I've been setting you up for weeks," he told me with a grin, "and
thinking about you for months."

"How did you know about me?"

"I didn't.  But you were giving certain signs--the way you walked, the
way you didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the guys."

I swallowed, finally making sense of my pre-gay life.  On the first day
of high school, I didn't understand why five seniors kept laughing and
calling me "faggot" when I walked through the courtyard.  Or the two
occasions when teenage car users yelled anti-gay slurs when I crossed
the street.  Matt was right, I never did feel comfortable with the
straight world.

Matt put on a pair of track pants so he wouldn't have to walk around in
just the leotard.

"You have a lot of guts to wear that thing", I said quietly as we began
walking.

"At 6:30 in the morning maybe", he grinned.  "My dorm is in the north
wing, fifth floor.  We can talk.  When's your next class?"

"12:45."

"Great."  We looked into each other's eyes as we walked, and laughed at
our shyness.  I was tingling with anticipation, and felt completely
natural.  The term "gay" slipped to the background.  Just being with him
and knowing he understood was wonderful.

Part VI

A black-haired girl smiled at Matt as we proceeded down the hall to his
room.

"Hey Brittany", he said casually.

"Hey Matt", she replied.  It was obvious she knew Matt was gay.

He unlocked door 518 and gently guided me in.  He closed the door and
the new lock hardware made a smooth low click.

"Hi", he said.

"Hi to you", I said.  Now what?

There was a silent moment, then he said, "Let's shower."

Good idea.  We needed it.  We were close to the same size, so he picked
out the day's clothes for both of us.  We took off our shoes and carried
the clothes and towels down to the men's bathroom.  Conveniently, it was
empty.  I was rock hard.  He took my shirt off.  I sat on the bench and
removed my socks, then pulled down my sweats and underwear.  The fabrics
and our footsteps echoed in the huge bathroom.

Naked, I approached Matt.  I reached around his neck to unzip the
leotard.  I pulled it down sloooowly.  Then I eased it down and off his
shoulders.  His eyes closed as he savored the moment.  I kneeled down
and pulled the stretchy garment off his waist.  I was face to face with
his lovely 6 inch dick.  He had no pubic hair.  Beautiful.  He stepped
out of the leotard legs naked and free.

We walked hand in hand through the tiled, brightly lit space between the
changing benches and shower stalls.  Matt drew the aqua green plastic
curtain and we entered a stall.  I turned the faucet handle to 12
o'clock and the shower head blasted us with water and sound.  We were
the first ones up, so there was plenty of hot water.  Our dicks touched
as I hugged him.  This was unbelievable.  This was heaven.

Matt pumped the soap dispenser and used handfulls of pink liquid soap to
lather me up.  The soap's flowery fragrance was wonderful--We had the
same kind on my floor and I had never noticed it before.  He shampooed
my head with it.  I rinsed my face and toweled my eyes.

Exploring a youthful man's body with slippery pink soap is an experience
I cannot recommend highly enough.  Matt had shaved all his body  parts
normally covered by shorts and T-shirts.  The rest was clipped to about
1/4 inch.  Here I was with no real sexual experience, falling in love
with a guy who daringly shaved off his own pubic hair.  The lather
flowed so beautifully down his belly to his smooth, pink balls.  I found
his shaved armpits fascinating.  Matt was perfect to me.

I held him from behind and reached down to his hairless cock.  I grabbed
and slowly pumped his lathery penis.  Matt's neck tightened and he took
a sudden breath.  My own penis was pressed between my stomach and his
slippery crack.  After five or six pumps, Matt moved his hand down to
guide me away.

"Not now", he said.  "Not now."  Matt swallowed and breathed.

We were together.  That was all that mattered.  I smiled and pulled away
so the shower could rinse his back and my chest.  The hot water splashed
and poured down our athletic bodies.  When we were all rinsed, he kissed
and held me, pressing my back against the smooth, warmed tile wall.  He
turned the handle off and our bodies dripped in the silent shower room.
His lips were so soft on mine.  Mmmmm.

Matt pushed the curtain back.  He turned to walk toward the bench, and I
followed with my hands on his gorgeous shoulders.  I felt like I was
about to come.  My heart was beating fast.  We used the soft grey towels
to dry off.  We dressed quickly.  Since I had no comb, he took care of
my hair.  I loved looking at him with his wet hair pressed to his head.
Then he combed himself.  We picked up our stuff and got out of there.

"Hey Brittany", Matt said before we got in the hall.  Brittany was
really smiling at us as Matt opened the bathroom door.  I said hello and
she returned a cute "Hi".  Another ally in a strange world.

When we got back to Matt's room, my cock had softened.  Our incredible
moment had cooled down.

"Alden... I want to take this slow."

"Matt--"

"I know I know.  There's no way to reason with horniness!  But trust me,
it's better to move cautiously at first."

"Matt, I didn't even know I was gay until a few weeks ago.  I can't even
believe how aggressive I've been with you today.  I am so new at this..."

"Believe me, I know how it is.  I 'became gay' when I was 16, and it was
a real strange situation."

"How did you...know?", I asked.

He turned to sit on the bed and I took his study chair.

"This is what I'm talking about.  We should talk about ourselves and
know each other more before we leap into complete sex...  Well, for me,
I knew I was different from everyone else somehow.  I was a loner who
didn't fit in any group, and didn't want to.  The last thing I ever
thought about was homosexuality.  The concept repelled me."

"All I knew about it came from stereotypes and name calling.  I had no
idea my personality difference could involve gayness down the road.  I
had a pretty late puberty, so I saw clearly how my schoolmates turned
from clear headed children to single-minded girl-seeking machines.  I
clearly saw the breakups and rejections too.  The whole game made no
sense to me.  Then I discovered masturbation one day."

"At 12 I was in little league.  I had to wear a cup and jockstrap.  When
I put it on the first time, I did it naked in my bedroom.  I had had
erections before, but this one was really strong.  All I knew was how
powerful it felt and how I liked posing in the mirror."

I continued to listen as he poured out his heart; "For the next three
years, I would wear different things, one at a time, just to recapture
that cool feeling of erection energy.  I would never touch myself, since
I had no idea about how sex worked apart from the ugly cross-section
diagrams they showed us in school."

"I was 15.  Alone in the house on a bright summer day.  My child's body
had grown tall, and I knew full puberty was at hand.  But sex was still
a complete mystery.  None of the health class textbooks talked about
orgasms.  I enjoyed walking around the house naked whenever possible,
and I felt drawn to my sister's room.  She was away in college."

"I had never worn women's clothes before.  But I had an idea they might
be good like the jockstrap.  I looked through the drawers, and found her
stash of lingerie.  The powdery scent was amazing.  The air stood
still.  I slowly reached in and picked up one of her white jogging
bras.  The fabric was so slippery... I had never known there could be
such cloth."

"I slipped it on, enjoying the deliciously silky sensations on my arms
and finally on my chest and shoulders.  Of course my dick was hard as I
stood up to see my reflection.  At that age, I had bangs in front.  The
effect was incredible.  I had stepped out of the world of boyhood.  I
wasn't completely gone, but knew I had to go further."

Matt breathed and closed his eyes as he relived private memories.  "I
tried on a pair of simple white panties.  My God!  They stretched and
formed themselves perfectly to me.  Maybe you had to be a boy, living
exclusively in heavy, rough boy clothes to appreciate the wonderfulness
of this new world of absolute comfort.  My panties matched every move,
and they made my buns look sooo good."

"My penis was larger and harder than I had ever thought possible.  I
didn't know what to do next, but I discovered how fantastic it felt to
stroke my shaft through the panties.  I pulled them down and looked at
my first 'adult' erection.  It was so red, almost purple.  It must have
grown an inch in the last few months.  Hard as a rock.  I held it in my
hand and felt little shockwaves of tingling."

"My jaw trembled as I squeezed tighter.  In the mirror, it was so
strange and perfect to see a girl with a dick.  I had been
called 'fairy' and 'faggot' before because of my girlish face.  This was
the first time I was happy to look the way I did."

"Very naturally, I began masturbating.  The sight of those bra straps
made me so hot.  I pumped my cock faster and faster, and the brand new
sensation of orgasm began.  I thought I was dying.  Starting inside my
ass, my body felt like it was dissolving into gold light.  Smoothly, the
light filled me from head to toe.  I had to gasp for oxygen, and my cock
was shooting jet after high pressure jet of stinging white gooey liquid."

Here I was, listening to Matt relate his story.  I was fascinated and
very turned on thinking about him.  His soft voice was hypnotic.

"This was a new world.  My legs were shaking and I had to kneel down to
recover.  My come was all over my sister's dresser.  I glanced at the
clock and knew my parents would be coming home in half an hour.  I
slipped off the bra and panties and put them back in the drawer.  My
dick kept dripping, and the tip felt so sore and sensitive.  I took some
tissues to dry off, but winced in pain at the first touch."

"I got back into my old clothes, then hurried and cleaned up the place
with Windex and paper towels.  Just as I flushed the towels and Kleenex,
I heard car doors slamming in the driveway.  I had just experienced the
greatest thing possible, and had no time process and reflect."

"I became a complete transvestite over the following months.  The
thought of magically becoming a beautiful girl was extremely powerful.
I played with makeup.  I wore pantyhose.  I tried on almost everything
my sister had.  The variety and lightness of her stuff were so much more
fun than the plain boring stuff I had."

"I really loved that new world of perfume and beauty.  In my sex
fantasies, I always took the female role.  It didn't seem right.  My
whole life was divided into the normal, tense life of a human being, not
really a boy anymore, dealing with the crude world, and the secret realm
of my natural heart.  My gay heart."

"At school, I only noticed the other boys.  That 4 to 5 percent of the
class that were 'different' like me.  In time the clothes lost their
power from overuse, and I just had to think about certain other guys to
ascend to bliss.  I pictured myself in equal relationships, just
enjoying playful times of closeness.  It would be so perfect.  I knew I
was gay.  I was gay."

I got up from the chair and sat next to him on the bed.  I hugged him.

"It's okay."

We hugged.  I kissed the closely buzzed hair behind his ear, and worked
my way slowly forward to his lips.

"I have no problem", I said.

"I love you, Alden."

Part VII

We kissed and promised to meet in the dorm's lobby after that day's
classes.  We had dinner together, and I didn't bother telling the other
guys why I wasn't going with them.  That night, in his room, I told him
my story of the past three weeks.  I concluded that I had to be gay all
along, but chose, out of fear, to live in the no-man's land of denial
and zero energy straightness.  I was so glad he noticed me and triggered
the cascade of truth inside.

Matt showed me the nifty.org archive of gay sex stories.  I read about
every possible activity, and was blown away.  It was so nice to know I
wasn't the only one with these desires.  It was also a little scary to
discover how wild things could get.  With this foundation of knowledge,
we moved our innocent "dating" relationship into new levels.  We were so
happy to be together.

Our souls merged as we learned how to make love.  A man's sexuality is
simple and basic, but our intimate communication and true affection led
us into a world of hot satisfaction.  I loved fucking him, letting him
ride me as I lied on the bed and thrusted up inside.  He taught me the
art of bump-free pubic shaving, and our clean bodies looked nearly
identical as we admired our reflections.

Matt groomed me, artfully clipping my body and head hair down to soft
shortness.  Not wanting us to look like bad twins, he didn't buzz my
head so much that my skin showed through.  I loved the fuzzy feeling as
he petted the back of my head.  Our love became simple as we became one.

After graduation, we "honeymooned" on the California coast.  As we
strolled to greet the sunrise, we found the gorgeous Dave Wrightson
still attracted crowds.

Authors Note:

I wrote this piece to explore my favorite gay story situation:
A "normal" guy discovering his true sexuality and tensely carrying
around the knowledge.  I hope it is empowering to identify with all the
complex feelings I and other authors have written about.  I was so lost
and alone during my college years, so it is fun to daydream about the
different ways things could have turned out.

It's nice to know, really know, that being gay is not a curse or dead
end.  It's a blessing, born of an open mind's simple, complete
perception of male beauty.