Date: Thu, 27 May 2010 21:31:09 -0700 (PDT)
From: Damian <nvtahoeus@yahoo.com>
Subject: Getting to First Base with Miguel - Part 1

The following story about Will, an 18-year-old man in California, and
Miguel, a 19-year-old baseball player from the Dominican Republic, is a
work of fiction.  I made it up and used names not associated with anyone I
know.  If you're a minor, you don't belong here, but you know that already.
Go do something productive instead.

Please don't reproduce this story in any form without my permission -- it's
my creation and I own the rights to it.  Now sit back and enjoy; then
please let me know what you think of it at nvtahoeus@yahoo.com.  It will
continue for several chapters.

- Damian


PART 1

The alarm went off at its usual 6 a.m.  Stirring under my thin sheet, I
turned over on my back, exposing my morning wood to the morning light.  I
was the only boy in my family, so I had always had a bedroom to myself.  My
two sisters had to share one, since we only had a 3-bedroom house.  So I
guess I had it pretty good growing up.

The only downside was that I had to share a bathroom with my sisters, so my
privacy in there was limited and practically had to be scheduled.  For that
reason alone, I could hardly wait to start college in the fall.  Even if I
had to go down the dorm hall and share a bathroom with 20 or 30 other guys,
it would be heaven compared to having to share one with my narcissistic
younger sisters, who thought nothing of spending hours preening in our
little shared bathroom.

We lived in a typical suburban city a couple of hours east of San
Francisco.  Ah, San Francisco -- the premier gay mecca of the United
States, where young guys like me could wander the streets in search of
others like us!  That's how I had always imagined it would be anyway.  I
could seldom get over there when I was in high school, and never by myself.
So getting a scholarship to San Francisco State University was a dream come
true for me.  In a few short months I would be out of this confining house
and able to start living my life as the independent gay man that I longed
to be -- unless I was assigned some homophobic creep for a university
roommate.

But in February of my senior year of high school, three weeks after I
turned 18, I got a very unexpected surprise.  My parents -- needing some
extra cash -- decided to take in a young baseball player from the Dominican
Republic who needed temporary housing while he established himself in our
local minor league team.  Since I had a spare bed in my private bedroom,
which was used only occasionally by my younger cousin Jack or a school
friend, they decided, with little input from me, that Miguel would bunk
with me until I went away to college and then stay there by himself until
he could get a place of his own.

Of course, I had mixed feelings about this arrangement.  On the one hand, I
would be sacrificing my long-held and much-cherished privacy.  Lounging
around naked while I surfed the web for hot gay porn sites would have to be
put on hold when our new renter was at home.  I supposed that I would even
have to start wearing something to bed -- something I had ceased doing when
I was 14, though no one in my family but my dad had a clue.  He had to come
in and wake me sometimes when I forgot to set my alarm, and he had found me
a time or two on top of my sheet completely naked.  That had certainly been
em-bare-ass-ing, if you'll excuse the pun, but it didn't seem to bother
him.

On the other hand, I was excited to think that a handsome Caribbean man
would be sleeping and changing clothes in my room.  I had seen Miguel's
photo, and I knew that he was no slouch in the looks department.  But if he
turned out to be straight -- as I fully expected since most athletes are
(aren't they??)  -- we wouldn't have much in common and it could turn out
to be a real disaster.

As fate would have it, I was on an overnight trip with my gymnastics team
on our last road trip of the season when Miguel arrived in the U.S. in
early March.  I had been told to leave my room in "presentable" order
before I left so that he wouldn't have to settle in among my usual clutter.
I even had to find some closet and drawer space for him, which was no small
challenge.

My family picked him up at Sacramento International Airport, and he had
slept alone in my room the first night.  When I got home late the next day,
a Saturday, my sisters were agog over our new renter.  It seems he had
already charmed the socks off my whole family, so I had to hear all about
it as Mom fixed me a late dinner.  Miguel had already retired to "our"
room.  After I ate, I walked down the hall and opened my door slowly in
case he was already asleep.  He wasn't.

As I set my stuff down on the floor, I saw this incredible hunk of
brown-skinned, bare-chested masculinity looking up at me from his bed,
where he'd been reading a magazine.  His photo certainly hadn't done him
justice -- he was beyond beautiful!

"Miguel?"

"You must be Will," he said as he beamed at me.  "Thanks for giving me a
space in your room -- I'll try to be a good roommate."

My oversensitive cock twitched in my pants as I took in the sight of this
gorgeous young man lying there with just a sheet covering his lower body.
He didn't stand up, so I just went over and shook his hand.  He had a very
firm grip.

"Yeah, I'm Will.  Welcome to the U.S.," I managed to say.  "Glad to have
you."  (God, did I ever want to have him!)

"Your family has been very nice to me so far.  It's very nice of you to let
me stay here," he said in his heavily accented but clear English.

"Uh, did you have a good trip?  Is this your first time in the States?"

"Yes and yes," he answered.  "It was a long day yesterday, and I had to
change planes twice, but I made it with no problems.  I'm very excited to
be here."

I was excited he was here, too, and whatever misgivings I'd had about this
arrangement were quickly being forgotten.

We carried on with this prattle while I unpacked my stuff and put it away.
I'd promised my mom I'd try to be better at that so that Miguel didn't have
to live in what was my usual untidy mess.  The whole time, however, I
wasn't really listening.  I was too enchanted with this guy to even think
straight.  But I have to say that I also felt a little intimidated by him.
I wondered how we were going to handle changing clothes in front of each
other.  I wasn't ready to take the first plunge yet, and I didn't know how
Miguel would feel about it.  But eventually I had to get undressed so I
could take a quick shower and get some sleep.

Miguel never stopped talking to me -- or looking at me -- as I finally
started shedding my clothes.  When I was down to my underwear, I thought I
saw his eyes flash up and down my semi-nude body, as if to take in the
sight of me.  At that point I grabbed a lightweight robe out of my closet
-- the one I always wore to the bathroom in case I ran into one of my
sisters or my mom -- and threw it on before turning my back to Miguel and
stepping out of my briefs.

When I had the robe loosely tied in the front, I turned back to Miguel and
said I needed to shower off before going to bed.

"See you later," he said, going back to his sports magazine.

To my amazement and eternal gratitude, my parents had decided that my
sisters would share the parental bathroom with my mom and that my dad would
share the one next to my room with Miguel and me.  I guess they thought it
best that Miguel and my sisters not run into each other less than fully
dressed.  It was nice to go in there and not find articles of female
clothing hanging around.  Even all their makeup and hair gear had been
removed.  Yesss!!  I hung up my robe and walked into the shower, with my
7-inch pointing prick leading the way.  I guess being around Miguel for the
first time had had an effect on me.

I lathered up and ran my bare hands over my steely hard, 5 foot 8-inch,
140-pound body.  I needed to get off in the worst way.  I didn't usually
jack off in the shower, worrying that my sisters would find "evidence" of
it, but for the first night in my life I didn't have my bedroom to myself
to take care of matters there.

Just as my cock reached its full erect length and I was feeling the
build-up to a great shot of my juices, I heard the bathroom door open!  I
hadn't locked it like I usually did to keep my sisters out, but I didn't
expect anyone to come in unannounced.  But someone -- either Dad or Miguel,
I assumed -- was brushing his teeth not five feet from me -- and not saying
a word.

I don't think he saw much -- even through the somewhat translucent glass
door -- because my back was to him.  But I stopped jacking so he wouldn't
be able to see my right arm in action.  Geesh, great timing, guy!  Another
10 seconds and it would've been too late to conceal my activity.

I kept washing myself and hoping my intruder would leave so I could get
back to the matter "at hand," but when he was through brushing his teeth he
came over to the toilet and let out a long and noisy cascade of piss.  I
knew from his vantage point that whoever it was had a blurry view of my
back and ass through the shower door.  I desperately wanted to see who it
was and what he was wearing -- if anything -- but I knew if I turned enough
to see him that he would likely see that I had a roaring erection going on.

Soon I heard the toilet flush and the door close and I knew it was safe to
carry on with what I'd been doing.  The thought of Miguel -- or Dad --
seeing my ass in the shower while he peed -- even though it wasn't a clear
shower door -- sent me over the edge, and I watched as several white ropes
of cum shot from my cock and washed down the drain.  God, did that ever
feel good!  I hadn't had a chance all weekend to do what I normally did at
least once a day, so I was more than ready.

I got out of the shower enclosure and dried myself off in the middle of the
bathroom, assuming it was safe to do so without further interruption.  I
threw on my robe, brushed my teeth, and went back to my room next door.
Miguel was still reading his magazine.  For the first time I noticed a pair
of unfamiliar boxers on the floor.  He was naked!  He smiled as I tried to
figure out how I was going to get into bed without being the first one of
us to expose himself to the other.  Funny -- I was used to showering naked
with my teammates, but this was different somehow.  Here was this handsome
young man from some other country I'd never seen before tonight watching my
every move in what had previously been my "sanctuary," where I could
usually hang around naked for hours at a time.  No wonder I felt a little
shy.

Keeping my back to him, I pulled some clean briefs out of a drawer and
stepped into them before removing my robe.  I guess my new roommate decided
that the show was over and turned over to go to sleep.

"Good night, Will," he mumbled.  "See you in the morning.  Hope you didn't
mind that I came into the bathroom while you were showering."

"No problem.  Good night, Miguel," I stammered, glad to finally know who
was looking at my ass in the shower.  I wanted to check my e-mail but was
so tired from the long road trip, with little sleep, that I decided that
would have to wait until tomorrow.  I turned off the lamp on the nightstand
between us and crawled under my sheet, still in my clean briefs.  I think I
was asleep before my head hit the pillow.



(To be continued soon.  Much more to come.  Comments?  Please write to
Damian at nvtahoeus@yahoo.com.  Please state your first name and location
in your message.  I like to know where my readers live.  Thanks for reading
my story.)