Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Return to Winthrop St. - Part 10

Sitting in his dorm room alone, Atwood couldn’t sleep. He was tired, but not tired. His eyes wanted to close, but his brain wouldn’t shut off. He was craving. That was the best way to describe the feeling building in the pit of his stomach. Craving. He was craving sex, alcohol, drugs: all the things that would occupy his mind—numb his mind was more accurate—and keep him from having to deal with his feelings for Kinlin and, for that matter, his life.

As he was under age, the alcohol wouldn’t be easy to come by until he was back at the frat house. 

Since he had been dismissed from Bobby’s life by Clancy the easy access he’d once had to marijuana had withered like the plant’s dried leaves when they’re ready for smoking.

Sex was something he could get on his own. He could go out or—the lightbulb clicked on above his head—he could stay in. There was a portable device called a laptop computer that he just happened to own and with his connection to a little thing called the Internet he could connect with different guys from the comfort and safety of his dorm room until he found someone that peaked his interest.

Through a Google search for online websites dedicated to guys hooking up with guys, Atwood discovered Using a few of the pics he’d taken with his phone he added his image to his newly created profile and let his time wasting begin. Chatting online could be boring and tedious, but it could also be a turn on. There was no end to the embellishment of what one might want to do, or be willing to do, or desire to do, with another person.

Atwood found himself easily addicted to the compliments he got from online gawkers looking at his naked pics. He became obsessed with getting laid, or at least with being propositioned. 

It was easy. Atwood was a good looking guy. He was thin and toned; the perfect twink for those who went after that boyish look. He found that he never lacked for mail in the inbox of his Adam4Adam account. He also discovered a large concentration of guys on and around the UCLA campus. He hadn’t even realized how much he craved the attention, not even after he’d added the Adam4Adam app to his phone; not even when he checked it every five minutes. Even though he was still blowing off classes more than he was attending them, he wasn’t always in his dorm room. The app was a necessity he told himself. He wanted (needed) to be able to see who was interested in him at any given time and to see who might be looking to make a connection sooner rather than later. He was a man obsessed, but the excitement of it all prevented him from seeing the obsession.

Life had certainly taken an interesting turn for the boy from Ryland, Massachusetts who was smart enough to get a partial scholarship to UCLA and good looking enough that girls and boys were interested in him. Without even realizing what was happening to him, Atwood was spiraling down the rabbit hole, and there was no one waiting for him when he hit the ground to show him which direction was up.


The first guy he met from A4A was Jessie. Jessie was good looking enough. Kinlin and Bobby had both been more attractive, but Jessie had a nice smile. Something about his smile, his blue eyes, and blond hair attracted Atwood. He didn’t have a full nude shot on the website and told Atwood through email that he didn’t have one to share. He did have a shirtless photo and while his body wasn’t as hot as Bobby’s he at least wasn’t a fat man. He wouldn’t hear his own thoughts. Thoughts that were screaming YOU’RE SETTLING!. Through their conversation of several emails Atwood got the sense that Jessie was a nice guy and decided to invite him to his dorm room. 

Jessie was older than Atwood; a man in his mid thirties. He said the idea of showing up at Atwood’s dorm room was the fulfillment of a teacher student fantasy. He went on to admit that he’d had the fantasy for so long that when it started he, Jessie, was the student looking for the teacher, but fulfilling it either way would be hot. Atwood had gotten so worked up from the conversation that he thought the role play idea would be fun—hot—and couldn’t wait for Jessie to get there.

When the knock sounded on Atwood’s door it was the first time he’d actually felt nervous. He opened the door and instead of feeling like a man he felt more like a boy. He thought to himself that feeling like a boy was definitely de rigueur for this scenario, but he hadn’t wanted to feel like a boy. He’d wanted to feel like a man playing the role of a boy. He wanted to be excited and turned on by Jessie. However, upon seeing him standing in the doorway—looking older than he had in his pictures and knowing what they were getting ready to do—he wasn’t sure he could go through with it. That realized, he still didn’t want to send Jessie away.

Jessie put him at ease right away with the smile that he’d liked from the pictures online. They shook hands and sat down on Atwood’s bed. Trying to calm his nerves Atwood heard himself talking about stupid things that were doing nothing but filling the air with sound and keeping him clothed. He then remembered he’d had a menage a trois with a guy and a girl, and gotten sucked off in a back ally. This was nothing. This was getting naked with a guy in his dorm room who had a teacher student fantasy. Atwood felt his dick start to harden and leaned over and kissed Jessie.

That was the moment Atwood couldn’t erase from his memory. Jessie was a terrible kisser. Atwood hadn’t kissed a lot of people in his life, but he’d kissed enough to know that kissing was important and when the kissing was bad, the sex was probably going to be bad as well.

Also, Jessie was a licker. He licked Atwood’s chin and his cheeks. He even licked the tip of Atwood’s nose. Whenever Jessie tried to make eye contact, Atwood made sure to attempt some look of enjoyment, but he was so turned off. 

He should have found a reason to end this hook up before it happened but instead found himself naked, lying underneath a man who was licking him. Not seductively licking him, but licking him almost like a dog. It wasn’t as if Jessie was trying to lick him like a dog, in fact Atwood felt that Jessie probably thought he was seductively seducing the “student,” but nothing about it was sexy or seductive. Atwood was fighting to keep his dick hard.

He just wanted it to be over. He was lying on his back as Jessie alternated sucking his dick and licking his balls to the point of slobber saturation. He was thinking of Bobby: Bobby’s body, Bobby’s cock, Bobby’s cock in his mouth, Bobby’s cock inside his body. Anything that would keep the erection up and make the orgasm happen quicker. Then Kinlin popped into his head. He didn’t fight it. He could see his best friend’s cock and could remember how it felt to hold it. He reached down and grabbed Jessie’s dick and began stroking it hard. Jessie moaned as he sucked and licked. Atwood couldn’t help but remember the old Tootsie Pop commercial they’d watched in journalism class back in high school. He could see the wise old owl sitting in the tree licking the Tootsie Pop attempting to answer the little boy’s question, “How many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a Tootsie Pop?” He could even hear the distinct accent of the owl’s voice as he said, “Three.” Jessie was treating his dick like a fucking Tootsie Pop. His erection was limping. He had to block out the commercial.

He got back on sexual track. He continued to think of Jessie’s cock as Kinlin’s. The more he thought about stroking his best friend’s dick the harder he got. He could feel the orgasm building. He wanted to shoot his load before Jessie decided to give any part of his body another tongue bath, least of all his balls.

“I’m coming,” he heard himself say and before he exploded he felt the warmth of Jessie on his leg. Jessie’s moan was almost a whimper as he came while Atwood, despite the licking, had worked himself mentally into such a frenzy that he came almost as hard as he had when Bobby had fucked him.

He was not prepared for Jessie “the Licker” to lick his own cum from Atwood’s leg followed by Atwood’s cum from his stomach. The kiss that followed was in no way as hot as the back ally kiss where the man had transferred Atwood’s own cum to his mouth and told him to swallow. 

Jessie looked elated, so pleased with himself. Atwood thought that must be the look of a fantasy fulfilled. Without knowing what that must feel like and not taking a moment to ask, Atwood faked having somewhere to be in order to rush Jessie from his dorm room.

He felt like an asshole for the way he’d behaved. He hadn’t even given Jessie head. It wasn’t completely his fault though. The licking had been a real turn off. He hadn’t bargained for that. How could he have known from conversation and pictures through a website?

Before going down the hall to shower the remnants of cum and saliva left behind from Jessie, Atwood signed on to his A4A account and quickly blocked “the Licker” from being able to contact him again. He was already feeling like an asshole for not sucking the guy off and for lying about having somewhere to be. By blocking him he had cemented his asshole status. He had taken down the “For Sale” sign and actually bought a house in Assholeville.

©Michael Rohrer 2013