Markwildyr.com, Post #243
Image Courtesy of Clipart Library
Last week, we met Mark and his buddy Tai, both straight, teenaged Soccer athletes. Only thing is, Mark spends the summer after high school graduation getting horny while Tai’s back east visiting his mother’s family. Now it’s time for college.
Read on.
* * * *
Nobody else from my town was
going to State, so I’d be among strangers. I squared my shoulders and figured most of the
other freshmen would be in the same boat. So when I learned Tai Briggs had
landed a soccer scholarship to the college, as well, I perked up a bit. Maybe
we could room together.
Didn’t happen that way but he did
live in the same dorm. Good seeing him, and from his reaction he felt the same
way. He looked great. He’d put on ten pounds and another couple of inches.
We gravitated toward one
another and soon became joined at the hip, so to speak. But as we grew our
respective circles of friends, we sort of drifted apart. Except on the soccer
field. Tai and I carried our weight there, and then some. This was gonna work
out just fine.
Before long, Tai hooked up
with a gal named Ginny, and I started a rocky relationship with a chick named,
curiously enough, Suzy Sue Manford. Suzy Sue, or SS, as I called her, liked me
just fine, but she courted the reputation of a rebel. That shoulda been great,
right? Rebels defied convention. Convention said teens—even teens on the edge
of being twenties—ought not go to bed together. So if she defied convention…
well, you see where I’m going with this.
Didn’t work out that way.
Although she liked to make out, I hadn’t gotten to third base before she took
me home—she was a local—to meet her folks. Her dad, an avid car restorer, and I
bonded as soon as he he found I was a mechanic. That didn’t sit well with SS. We
continued to go together, but like I said, it was rocky.
Halfway into the semester, I
got itchy with that itch that’s hard to scratch without the cooperation of
someone else. First thing I know, thoughts of Billy Belwine and what he’d done
to me—for me—in the park’s men’s room last summer intruded on my consciousness.
Billy’s lips would feel pretty good right now, but Billy was off to school in
another state, giving relief to his new classmates, I presumed.
Strangely, the thought of
Billy made things worse. Just about every public men’s room I’ve ever been in
had little notes scribbled on the stall walls, and I started paying attention
to them. This school had it’s own Billy, but I didn’t know how to identify him.
His notes were provocative but didn’t provide contact information.
I’d seen what somebody called
“glory holes” in lots of public rest room, but dear old State’s stalls were
made out of steel. Not only that, but the janitorial staff had perfected a
method for effectively eliminating notes that were left, even those scratched
into the metal. They buffed those out.
But one day, as my need rose
almost to the desperation level, I saw a fresh note from someone who labeled
himself as DZ saying he’d located an out of the way spot at Burnt Wood. What
the hell was Burnt Wood? Too embarrassed to ask anyone, I went on the hunt in
the library. Local maps showed a park by that name clear across town.
Probably a men’s room at the
park. Bingo. But with no car, it would be a chore to get there. I’d put all my
savings into my college fund to make it easier for the folks. I had a jalopy at
home, but it wasn’t up to the cross-state travel to my present location.
The inane thought struck me
that Tai had a car, but I couldn’t quite see me asking for a ride to a park to
get my rocks off in some public bathroom. Although, I got a bit of a
tingle in my groin by just thinking about it.
Well, think about it I did.
About getting to Burnt Wood, that is. I located the city bus route that would
take me close, and decided I’d give it a try Saturday. No classes and no soccer
game, so that would be an ideal time. I came close to taking care of my own
need Friday night, even with my roommate sleeping just across the room, but
managed to keep my hands off myself.
Saturday morning was warm and
sunny and inviting. Mid-morning, I boarded a city bus convinced that everyone
on board, including the driver, knew where I was heading and what my mission
was. Irrational, I know.
I transferred where I was
supposed to, got off the second bus, and found I still had a quarter of a mile to
hike. Well, what’s a quarter of a mile to a soccer player? When I arrived at the
park, the first thing I saw was a bus stop. If I’d taken the proper route, a
damned bus would have dropped me right at the park. Oh well….
The park was big… with lots of
trees. A nice park, actually. Full of wholesome families having autumn picnics…
and at least one sex-starved student looking for a tryst. Once again, as I trod
the graveled walks in search of a secluded men’s room, I felt everyone’s eyes
on me. Knowing eyes. Sneering eyes. Condemning eyes. Eyes that knew a guy
looking for a blowjob when they saw him.
Finally, I found that secluded
men’s room off in the trees where it was easy to miss. My back puckered as I
approached the brown-painted shack. The door let out an ungodly shriek when I
pulled it open. My heart about stopped, but I soldiered on.
One urinal. One stall. Side by
side. With a big glory hole between them. This was the place, all right. Hookup
messages were everywhere, but the place was deserted. I took a seat in the
stall to read sometimes erotic and sometimes disgusting notes from one guy or
another to the gay universe. That hauled me up short. Gay universe? Did that
include me?
Naw. These were messages from
gay guys to the male universe, and that’s part of what I was. Male
universe. A needy member of the male universe. Must be because my member reacted
something fierce. My male member.
I froze as the outside door
squeaked open. Footsteps, and then someone was at the urinal. I peeked. Nice,
from what I could see, which was confined to the groin area. What did I do now?
Stick my thing through the glory hole and hope for the best? What if the guy
was offended and whacked me where it hurt. Can you break a dick? Dunno, but I
wasn’t about to take a chance.
Then the dude unzipped his trousers
and flopped out his dong. A nice dong. He lifted his shirt a bit. Flat belly,
black bush. Probably had a six-pack if he exposed more of himself.
Geez, the guy wasn’t taking a
leak. He was playing with himself. What should I do now?
He didn’t leave it up to me. He
turned and shoved himself through the glory hole. I gulped. I knew what he
expected, but that wasn’t what I was here for. Even so, I took him in hand and massaged
him. He thrust himself against the wall, and I knew he was urging me to take
him in my mouth. No way. That wasn’t me. I wasn’t here to take care of some
dude, I was here to be taken care of.
He withdrew, and started to
bend over to look through the hole. I leaned back and gave him a good view of
my own need. He hesitated a moment and then disappeared. Was he leaving?
No! He was at the door to the
stall. He tugged on it. I’d locked it, of course, so I was safe. He rapped
softly. For some reason, I’ll never really know why, I reached up and freed the
lock.
A long moment passed before he
pulled the door open and gave me the shock of my life. I might have been taken
by surprise, but he wasn’t.
“Mark. I thought I recognized
your senior class ring.”
Tai Briggs, looking sexier
than anyone I’d ever seen, grinned, a crooked, lop-sided, lascivious smile and
walked straight into me. I gulped, and took him the way he wanted.
*.*.*.*.
It’s always nice
when something works out better than you ever expected, isn’t it. I wish Mark
and Tai four long years of happy college life together. After that? Who knows.
Website and blog: markwildyr.com
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Now my
mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing.
You have something to say, so say it!
See you later.
