as he had his lips and tongue.
David was easing his own hand back and forth, stroking slowly up his shaft and seeing the man take control of his dick, making David moan as he cupped his balls and then slowly worked his way back up to touch the wet drops that were leaking and running down the length of him. The Professor would want more though, much more, and David somehow already knew that he'd cum in his own hand while the Professor turned him around, his bare ass exposed and with his teeth now dragging across the tender skin on the back of his neck, he'd find the boy's other tight hole.
He would bend over and beg, yes, and please, even though he was unsure and his legs were trembling. Once the Professor's long index finger touched the pink, tender skin around his opening, David would give in completely. He worked furiously back and forth on his erection as the pictures swam around in his mind, squeezing his tool tight and hearing the wet noises that came from the back of his throat. He was moving his hips back to give the Professor more. His tight hole was open and hungry and he'd never felt this sensation that felt like electricity ride up and down his body.
When David came, he was loud and the hot dash of cum spilled across his pelvis and then up to his stomach and then puddled in his hand. He was panting and heaving and alone, as usual. The fantasy melted and David smiled sadly to himself as he realized that this crush, like all of the other past ones, would pass by unfulfilled.
In the shower, David reviewed the list of disappointments since his first and only girlfriend had told him, despite whatever he had told himself, that he was gay. The truth of the matter was that no matter what he got off to in private, to the world, and especially in his hometown, where his parents were busy doing God's work, he could never be gay. It wasn't even a consideration.
The flirting would start every time he'd meet a man he was attracted to. His secret longings would become obsessions. The curl of the other man’s lip, the line down his back, the back of his thigh, all the things the David imagined he would say. None of them ever came to fruition. Buried in the closet, he had never even made a move. In the two months that he'd been away at university, far from the roving eyes of family, no matter how free and open everyone else appeared to be, he was still the lonely voyeur. Watching lovers everywhere, like the Professor and his young boyfriend, was the extent of the pleasure that David could allow himself to experience.
When he turned around, the water streaming down his back, he found that he wasn't alone. The communal bathroom was still something that he found unnerving and David tried to use the space at odd times in order to avoid a situation like this. He saw the young man on the other side of the tiled space and wondered if he had been looking at David when he had been turned around and unaware of his presence.
David watched the water slide and caress every inch of the other man's body. He was tan and taller and more muscular than David. His round ass flexed when he turned and soaped and David could feel the effects of staring at him between his legs. He turned off the water and grabbed his towel before another embarrassing erection occurred and when he stood in front of the mirror, combing his hair and brushing his teeth, the man from the shower walked around the corner and joined him.
He caught David's eye in the mirror and tilted his head.
“Hey.”
“Hey there.”
David tried not to be obvious as he watched the boy, dressed in only a towel, as he was, the dip of his triceps, the valley up the middle of his chest, the scant trail of hair that started at his belly button and worked its way down to places unseen but imagined quite vividly.
“Aren't you in Kaufman's freshman psych class?” the boy asked.
“Yeah,” David cleared his throat, “it's murder.”
“Right?” the boy walked
David was easing his own hand back and forth, stroking slowly up his shaft and seeing the man take control of his dick, making David moan as he cupped his balls and then slowly worked his way back up to touch the wet drops that were leaking and running down the length of him. The Professor would want more though, much more, and David somehow already knew that he'd cum in his own hand while the Professor turned him around, his bare ass exposed and with his teeth now dragging across the tender skin on the back of his neck, he'd find the boy's other tight hole.
He would bend over and beg, yes, and please, even though he was unsure and his legs were trembling. Once the Professor's long index finger touched the pink, tender skin around his opening, David would give in completely. He worked furiously back and forth on his erection as the pictures swam around in his mind, squeezing his tool tight and hearing the wet noises that came from the back of his throat. He was moving his hips back to give the Professor more. His tight hole was open and hungry and he'd never felt this sensation that felt like electricity ride up and down his body.
When David came, he was loud and the hot dash of cum spilled across his pelvis and then up to his stomach and then puddled in his hand. He was panting and heaving and alone, as usual. The fantasy melted and David smiled sadly to himself as he realized that this crush, like all of the other past ones, would pass by unfulfilled.
In the shower, David reviewed the list of disappointments since his first and only girlfriend had told him, despite whatever he had told himself, that he was gay. The truth of the matter was that no matter what he got off to in private, to the world, and especially in his hometown, where his parents were busy doing God's work, he could never be gay. It wasn't even a consideration.
The flirting would start every time he'd meet a man he was attracted to. His secret longings would become obsessions. The curl of the other man’s lip, the line down his back, the back of his thigh, all the things the David imagined he would say. None of them ever came to fruition. Buried in the closet, he had never even made a move. In the two months that he'd been away at university, far from the roving eyes of family, no matter how free and open everyone else appeared to be, he was still the lonely voyeur. Watching lovers everywhere, like the Professor and his young boyfriend, was the extent of the pleasure that David could allow himself to experience.
When he turned around, the water streaming down his back, he found that he wasn't alone. The communal bathroom was still something that he found unnerving and David tried to use the space at odd times in order to avoid a situation like this. He saw the young man on the other side of the tiled space and wondered if he had been looking at David when he had been turned around and unaware of his presence.
David watched the water slide and caress every inch of the other man's body. He was tan and taller and more muscular than David. His round ass flexed when he turned and soaped and David could feel the effects of staring at him between his legs. He turned off the water and grabbed his towel before another embarrassing erection occurred and when he stood in front of the mirror, combing his hair and brushing his teeth, the man from the shower walked around the corner and joined him.
He caught David's eye in the mirror and tilted his head.
“Hey.”
“Hey there.”
David tried not to be obvious as he watched the boy, dressed in only a towel, as he was, the dip of his triceps, the valley up the middle of his chest, the scant trail of hair that started at his belly button and worked its way down to places unseen but imagined quite vividly.
“Aren't you in Kaufman's freshman psych class?” the boy asked.
“Yeah,” David cleared his throat, “it's murder.”
“Right?” the boy walked
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