Monday, April 26, 2010

David, Part I

(While I'm visiting my dad, I'm posting some older journal entries so that you won't miss me. What follows is an old journal entry from 2003.)

“Don’t get up,” he told me.

I was already pulling on a shirt, panicked at the sound of the back door opening at the other side of the condo. It was the first time I’d been in a man’s bed and heard someone unexpected enter his home. “Someone’s coming,” I said, panicked. Was it a lover? A wife? A policeman?

“Seriously. Don’t get dressed,” said my friend. After twenty-two years, I’ve forgotten his name. He was one of those alumni of the college who never seemed to leave Williamsburg after graduation, loving the little city so much that he’d stayed there for twenty years. Although he worked in Richmond and spent large portions of each month in the D.C. area, his home was townhouse on Jamestown Road. His advice came too late, though. I’d already pulled on my t-shirt. When I heard steps at the top of the staircase, I pulled the hem of my shirt over my erection. “You didn’t have to do that. It’s just my buddy David. He’s picking up some stuff. You know David?”

It was 1981. I was seventeen and in my first month as a freshman. I barely knew anyone who wasn’t on my dorm hallway. I certainly didn’t know the older kid standing in front of me. David had hair in a shade of light copper, like a penny new from the press; the skin of his lightly muscled arms was pink and creamy. He wore a grey t-shirt with the sleeves cut-off, jeans, and tennis shoes. “I didn’t know you had someone here,” he said. The apology was honest. I could tell how uncomfortable he had been, seeing me.

“That’s okay. Let me get your stuff.” The man stood. His penis was still dripping semen from the tip as he ambled off downstairs.

“I’m David,” said the redhead. He stared at me with eyes of the most intense blue hue I've ever seen. I introduced myself, frightened to move. My t-shirt was covering my still-raging, unsatisfied erection, but any movement would reveal it. I wasn’t entirely stupid. I knew it was obvious what we’d been doing, but I kept hoping for some less embarrassing solution to the situation. “Are you a student?” he asked. When I didn’t answer, he put a hand to his chest. “I’m a junior.”

“Freshman,” I admitted.

David looked at the staircase just outside the bedroom, and hesitated. Then he took a step closer. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. His hand trembled as he reached out to touch my cheek. The stroke’s arc took him to the neck of my shirt. He rested his fingers on it and paused, waiting for me to protest.

I did not.

He lifted the t-shirt up and over my erection. I was unsatisfied and still hard, despite the fright. The sensation of his skin’s warmth along my neck made my cock even harder. When it popped out from under the cloth, unrestrained at last, he drew in his breath sharply, surprised at my size. It sounded as if he was hissing. Those blue eyes regarded my cock for a few seconds before he caught my gaze once more and cupped me under the chin. “I wish I had a boyfriend like you,” he whispered to me, his voice barely audible. “Meet me tonight.”

My heart pounded in my chest so hard that my sight seemed to dim. I wish I could explain the way of my thoughts, twenty-two years ago. These days I would’ve said, “Sure!” My seventeen-year old self, however, I could only wish myself gone, away from the embarrassment of that situation, gone from David’s blue eyes and from my friend’s bed. He must have seen the conflict in my face. “Just meet me tonight. Promise. Ten o’clock, Crim Dell. I’ll wait for you. I just want to talk.” The condo’s owner started back up the stairs. “He used to fuck me too,” he whispered. “Ten o’clock?”

“Here you go.” Our friend held out a plastic grocery bag. I don’t think I ever actually saw what it contained, but from the way it hung, my impression was that it held some clothing.

David had taken a step back, away from me. My cock was back under the t-shirt. The man yawned and launched himself back into bed, not bothering to cover up. “Want to stick around?” he asked David. “Boy’s got a prime mouth.”

The red-head looked at me and shook his head. “I have to do things. Later.”

“Come here,” said the man, grabbing at my shirt. I felt the stitching protest at the seams as he pulled me back and guided me down on him. I performed automatically after that, though, wondering how soon was soon enough to make an excuse to leave and hike the mile back to campus, but not too soon so that I wouldn’t run into David on the way out.

(Part II will appear tomorrow.)

12 comments:

  1. So hot. Can't wait until tomorrow.

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  2. I can't wait for part II. You always make me so hard.

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  3. Oh, man. I remember those feelings. You're an amazing storyteller. "Please, Sir...may I have more?"

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  4. Hey, Rockurjock, thanks for that. And if you're going to beg so winsomely, how can I refuse?

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  5. I fuckin' love it when you do tease me, stud. I'm a hopeless bater !

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  6. Hey--you went to W & M! I did too, a little after you. Hit me up and let's chat.

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  7. Hey Fella--hit me up at my email address. It's in one of my sidebars. We can gossip about the faculty. :-)

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  8. Williamsburg? 1981? OMG. You just brought back a flood of memories of spending way too much time late at night on DOG Street (and intimate encounters in the maze near the Governor's palace).

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  9. Are you an alumnus too, rawhidetreat? I used to do the leap over the Governor's Palace wall at night, but I never had sex in there.

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  10. Went to law school there. I spent the summers in Williamsburg, and I eventually discovered that one of the cruising spots in town was DOG Street in the evening. The crowd obviously varied, but during the summer, there would be a tourist (or several) in addition to assorted college students and town residents. I spent so much time on the street that when I graduated in 1982, I half expected a small brass name plate to be put on one of the benches on the street. And the maze was a great place after dark.

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  11. Rawhidetreat,

    Ah, nice. As an undergrad I used to study in the law library, because it was quiet, off-campus, and usually had sexy law students to stare at.

    DoG street was amazing after dark. That little mini-park behind the ticket building at the base of Merchant's Square was the big cruising area from '81 to '85. I was hitting that place up nightly, in good weather. Possibly we screwed? We did have a year of overlap, and I discovered it the first week I was there.

    The Campus Center and Swem were the other two mainstays of cruising for me.

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