All Male College, 1957

[silvertriumph2]

I'm having withdrawal pains...:biggrin:

 

[Houtom]

bump - - - -this stories too good not to keep it on the first page.

 

[UK8x6]

This story is so hot! PLEASE keep going!

 

[silvertriumph2]

I need more......:sad: :17:

 

[DavidXL]

Thank you all, very much, for your continued interest. It really means a lot to me. I've started writing the next chapter, but, realistically, it will take me 2 to 3 weeks to finish it given my current work schedule and the difficulty in blocking out time to be able to write it. I didn't want anyone to think I was a tease and that the next chapter would be coming out any day now.

I definitely plan to finish out the story and keep writing it, don't worry! And, thank you again for keeping me motivated.

 

[joromoac]

Thank you all, very much, for your continued interest. It really means a lot to me. I've started writing the next chapter, but, realistically, it will take me 2 to 3 weeks to finish it given my current work schedule and the difficulty in blocking out time to be able to write it. I didn't want anyone to think I was a tease and that the next chapter would be coming out any day now.

I definitely plan to finish out the story and keep writing it, don't worry! And, thank you again for keeping me motivated.

Thank you for such a great story!

We will happily wait.

 

[myjoystick]

Bump

 

[w18761]

Eagerly awaiting the net installment

 

[JohnDoeXXXm]

After reading that whole story in one setting, you're gonna leave me like this?

 

[piksii89]

Can't wait for your next installment!
I've said it before, and I'll say it again, you are extremely talented, DavidXL.

Wish you the very best of luck��

 

[MH07]

Bump

 

[silvertriumph2]

Want more....

 

[DavidXL]

Thanks again, everyone, for sticking with this story, and apologies for the delay in getting this next installment finished and posted. I have the subsequent chapter underway, and the delay won't be as long. This chapter picks up after everyone returns to the college and there is a chill amongst Jack, David, and Dusty because of the events over Thanksgiving. Let me know what you think.

Chapter 14: Stalled

The dynamics of my interactions with David and Dusty were thrown askew from every angle during those first few days after our return from Thanksgiving. David’s suspicions regarding the true nature of my relationship with Dusty had grown from surprised speculation to near certainty after what he had seen and heard at my parents’ house. The ping of the lock sealing shut my bedroom door from the sanctuary of sexual pleasure that enveloped Dusty and I inside and protected the secrets we sheltered from the outside world had been reverberating in David’s ears with a deafening roar. I held my breath and my body tense, expecting him at any moment to pick up the confrontation I wanted dropped and forgotten even though there was no way for either of us to drop or forget anything. David was tense as well. I knew by the way I would catch him looking at me that he had a barrage of questions he wanted to fire at me, but was holding back with his finger on the trigger. David had an inherent self-confidence and did what he wanted without the handwringing I usually did. If he wasn’t asking the questions I was afraid he would ask, it was because he was afraid he would hear answers he didn’t want to hear.

At the same time, the rift in my relationship with Dusty persisted. We weren’t arguing. In fact, he was exceedingly cordial. But, the cordiality was of tone you would expect from a friend, not a lover. That felt worse than silence or open anger, which I would have been able to address instead of the platonic amiability he projected. Anger would have given me reason to confront him about what was really going on in the same way that David wanted to confront me. But, Dusty’s measured politeness kept me at bay and made it difficult to speak openly of what I wanted to talk about with him. Dusty had too much substance to behave in a manner as petty and obvious as giving someone the silent treatment. But, by speaking to me as a friend instead of a lover, he had erected a barrier that was even more effective in keeping me out as he tried to make sense of us and where we were going.

Adding to my unease, this was the last week of class before a week long reading period that preceded final exams. After a semester that had been full of change as we all adjusted to the new routines and rigors of college life and the freedoms of living away from home, there was an apprehension in the air as the fun died down and everyone turned dour. Despite the fact that some of us had academic ambitions that were loftier than others, everyone here had been a top student in the high schools and prep schools we had attended. Even if not everyone in the dorm cared whether they excelled academically or skated by with the gentlemen’s C that was fine for many people, it was not fine with me. Nor was it acceptable to David or Dusty. The three of us had big ambitions. As I have previously mentioned, I wanted to work for the U.S State Department and have a career in diplomacy. David wanted to go to medical school and become a cardiologist. Dusty was applying to PhD programs in Ancient Greek and Classical History. David and I were just at the beginning and wanted to get off to the right start. Dusty had proven himself and wanted to maintain his A average. He had also earned membership into every honor society the college offered, and he wanted to graduate with the high honors he had rightly earned.

After giving Dusty some distance that Monday, I stopped by his room on Tuesday morning to see if he wanted to go to breakfast with me. Breakfast was something we had shared at my house, but never at school, where I took all of my meals with my friends and never with him. At least not yet. He looked up at me with a polite, but pre-occupied smile and said he would catch me later, that he had some reading he had to finish up before class. Then he turned his head back to his book. My heart felt heavy in my chest. I could understand being busy if it weren’t so obvious that nothing had been the same between us since I had burst out of the laundry room in Alison’s basement, her father dragging me upstairs with a boner tenting from my khakis for everyone to see, including Dusty. I masked my hurt and wished him a good day.

At least there were plenty of academic distractions from my personal distress. In preparation for final exams, I had notes to review, exam outlines to prepare, and term papers to finish. I received an unexpected surprise in my Emerging Governments class when Professor Johnston passed back the mid-term essay we had submitted a few weeks ago. I had written a paper on the collapse of the British Empire and how Great Britain could maintain its global influence by fostering economic ties with former commonwealth countries, with my principal premise being that a strong commonwealth meant a stronger Great Britain. I was stunned when I looked at my grade and saw that it was an A+. He called me down to the front of the class and had me read my paper aloud from his lectern while he sat in the front row.

I remember my face had been red hot with embarrassment and pride as I read my words aloud to the class. I was humbled by the unexpected honor. Professor Johnston had never had any students read their papers aloud to the class during the entire semester or ever to my knowledge. While my face may have been red, I remember that my voice had been strong without being arrogant or condescending as I read my words aloud. He then asked me a long line of questions that I answered with a poise and an eloquence I had not known I had within me. When I finished, he told the class he had hoped they had listened to me, that my paper and the way I had just presented it was a prime example of the scholarship for which everyone should be striving. He also said he could not remember a time in recent years when a student-written paper had been written with such clarity and prescience.

Professor Johnston’s praise was empowering for me to hear, and I have never forgotten it. Through the years, whenever I have been in a position to influence the thinking of young people in academic or professional settings, I have remembered the power of underscoring excellent work, particularly when I have found it better than mine. I do not mean for the foregoing to suggest that I had an ego that was born on that day or that he fed me delusions of immodesty. As a young freshman, I knew I had certain academic talents. But, I was not fully sure of what they were in the same way that I was still finding out who I was. As I was searching for my place in the world, I was still finding my confidence and my voice, and I was greatly influenced by the professor’s encouragement. I had long thought about working for the State Department or having some type of career in foreign relations among other possibilities. That day, however, with the praise that smoothed over my own self-doubts, I realized I just might have what it takes to pursue the academic and professional dreams I had wanted to pursue.

As much as it was inspiring for me to hear those words, I had heard what I needed to hear. It was awkward for me to continue to sit there and face the class while Professor Johnston praised me and the rest of the class quietly sat there hating me in all probability. Everyone except for David. I didn’t know where to look while the acclaim continued following my presentation. As my eyes drifted from the ceiling to the clock and down to my shoes while the professor spoke about me, I happened to lock eyes with David for a long, long moment. There was a sparkle in his eye as he flashed me a warm smile and nodded his head. My heart surged, and I wondered if David and I might be OK after all.

After class, David came up to me as I gathered my books and punched me in the shoulder.

“Nice work, buddy,” he said. “What a great honor!”

I smiled, my face still flush. “Thanks,” I said. “I didn’t know he was going to do that.”

“I’m really proud of you. You did a great job. Your paper was excellent, and you sounded like a real professor yourself as you presented it to the class. You earned all of those accolades, Jack.”
(continued)

 

[DavidXL]

I blushed again and thanked him, always happy to hear kind words from David. He asked me if I wanted to play squash after we dropped our books off back at the dorm. I said yes, even though I was not sure that I did. I always loved spending time with David. Even though we each stood on opposites sides of a valley carved from a river of questions he wanted to ask and I didn’t want to answer, I still cared very deeply about my friendship with him. He was smart, funny, sexy, and had a confident aloofness that made him even sexier to me. To have seen him seem so vulnerable before me regarding his uncertainties on where we stood made me want to reach out and hug him tight in a way I knew I never could. Having him as a close friend and the best roommate you would ever want to have had contributed in a huge way to my overall feelings of happiness at Middlebury. I didn’t want to lose him. And I didn’t know how I could continue to lie to him when the truth was so obvious. But, being honest about the truth would take a courage I did not know if I had.

I felt a sense of dread at what might be asked and answered in the confines of the squash court where there could be no escape. David knew what he knew – I was certain of that. He was incredibly smart and intuitive, and we understood each other more than we understood most other people in our lives. It made me love him and fear at the same time. Except for Dusty, no one knew me like David did.

I tried hard not to be on edge, which turned out not to be too hard after all. David continued to be full of praise about my paper and the attention it had received in class, particularly after his own efforts to perform well in that course and the help I had given him on his essays over the semester. He was even more impressed when I told him that Professor Johnston had invited me to present the same paper at the next faculty meeting.

“Are you kidding, buddy? You’re presenting your paper to the department faculty? That’s so incredible! What a gigantic honor!” He patted me on the back and give me a brief, but strong bear hug that caught me by surprise, but admittedly left my skin tingling with the pleasure of physical contact with him. My ears flushed with pride again, and I was thrilled that David was so happy for me. I started to have hope that maybe we would be OK no matter what was asked and said, even though on the inside I was writhing at the prospect of having to do so. In my desire to avoid confrontation, I would much rather prefer that all it go unspoken.

We changed into our shorts and jogged over to the gym in the cold wearing only sweatshirts. When we played squash, we usually talked about school and sports and gossip about the guys from the dorm. We would play hard, and each of us played to win. David usually beat me, however, and this time he beat me in the first 3 matches, which was typical. Several times, I caught him looking at me, and I just knew he had chosen the confines of the squash court to press me about Dusty and what was really going on between us. It was the perfect place for a private confrontation, with little chance for escape or outside interruption. The structured action from the match would make it hard for me to walk away from him. At the same time, it would serve as a distraction if the conversation became too difficult.

As we were about to start the 4th game, he touched his right foot to the service box on the court and raised his racquet to serve the ball. But, then he lowered the racquet and looked at his feet for a long beat. My mind flashbacked to that afternoon when I bared my heart to Dusty in the cold, awkward silence of my dorm room. It seemed to me David was summoning the courage to bare his heart to me in a similar way. Our eyes locked, and then we each looked away. Then they locked again. Each of us was on the verge of saying something that once said could not be unsaid. But, neither of us did, and he finally he averted his eyes. It was as if he had swallowed up whatever he had felt deep inside him and forced himself to keep it to himself, no matter how painful.

After what seemed like forever, but could not have been more than a handful of seconds, David said, “Ready?”

I nodded. “Go ahead.”

I don’t know if he let me win the next match or whether I did it on my own. But, I ended up winning it, my only victory of the day, at least on the squash court. Either way, I was happy to finish on a high note when I had expected the worst. On the jog back to the dorm, we were invigorated by the renewed spirit of our friendship and the chill of the outdoors that cooled our sweaty bodies. We laughed and broke out into a flat-out running race, which I also won. I knew that this was not the end of it, and whatever hadn’t been said was not forgotten, but had only been put on layaway. If I had had the wherewithal I have now when it comes to navigating the intricacies of human relationships, I would have manned up and confronted the issue head on and risked the consequences. But, I was just 18 then and hadn’t yet figured out that it was usually better to cast sunlight upon unspoken problems rather than cloaking them in darkness and letting them fester. I did not know where David and I would end up, but I had the sense that everything was going to be OK. At least for now.

After dropping off our squash racquets in our room, we stripped down and headed to the shower together wearing only a towel around each of our waists.

In the bathroom, we could hear the sounds of the other guys in the shower, with Anthony’s voice overpowering all of them. We paused a moment and had a laugh about a sign that had been taped to the stall door in the far corner: “Attention! You must flush your waste and keep appropriate your conduct! Cooperation Please! Thank You from your Custodian!”

Our custodian was named Janusz. At least that was his first name. I don’t know if any of us knew his last name, and I don’t think any of us gave it a thought. David and I each read the sign out loud, mimicking Janusz’s Ukrainian accent and the scramble of his spoken grammar. Janusz had emigrated to the United States right after World War II. To us, he was an old man in his 40s, but looked much older given that his hair was entirely shock white except for streaks of grey. And he had a funny way of speaking. How and why he ended up working as a custodian at this preppy college in Vermont so far from wartime Ukraine, I did not know. It seemed to me then and now a pretty crappy job to have to clean up after a bunch of messy, privileged college guys who had no idea how good they had it. I am sure we drove him crazy.

When David and I entered the showers, Howell, Sasquatch, Freddy, Shorty, and Anthony were already in there after having played a sweaty game of basketball. They were talking about Janusz’s signs, and Howell was doing a pretty fair imitation of Janusz’s accent and the intensity of his voice when he was worked up about something, which was usually some mess that one of us had left, like a tipped over trash can, spilled beer that had turned sticky, or an unemptied ashtray.

Howell stepped out from under the shower head and raised his hand in the air and continued in his mock Ukrainian accent. “This is unacceptable! You must dispose of your waste! Thank you from your custodian!”

This was probably one of those situations where you had to be there to appreciate the humor, even if it seems hard to find humor in having children of privilege intentionally failing to flush their shit down the toilet so that a poor, funny sounding immigrant working man like Janusz would have to see it, smell it, and flush it himself, which is what Howell described was happening. As Howell explained, someone in the dorm was getting a kick out of taking shits in the stall in the far corner and not flushing. I knew even that Janusz had a quiet rage about him. He would be seething at the indignation of having to clean up the shit that had intentionally been left for him to clean. There were rumors that he had been a partisan who had fought against the Nazis, and I am sure he was nearly apoplectic with rage at having to endure these insults after enduring what he had endured during the war. As I look back at these words I have written, they do not seem funny to me at all today as I recount them. But, I would be dishonest if the freshman me found sophomoric humor in having Howell run through his imitation Janusz and the shit mystery as if it were a comedy routine.
(continued)

 

[DavidXL]

“Isn’t it his fucking job to scrub toilets and clean shit up around here? I mean, c’mon, what are we paying him for? There’s no free lunch,” Freddy said.

“What are we paying him for? We aren’t paying for anything, Freddy boy,” David said. “The school is paying him. And they are not paying him to flush the shit of some sicko who’s not flushing the toilet on purpose. It’s fucking insulting, and if you don’t think so, you’re as fucked up as whoever who is leaving those depth charges in the corner stall.”

Freddy shrugged as the luxuriance of warm water of the shower cascaded down upon his shoulders. “I’m just saying that if he doesn’t want to clean toilets, he should find something else to do. It’s his job to clean shit, and I think he should quit complaining.”

Anthony shook his head and shut down the conversation. “That’s one of the most fucked up things I’ve ever heard you say, Freddy. Maybe because you were born with a fucking silver spoon in your mouth back there in Shaker Heights. But, guys like Janusz shouldn’t have to clean up after spoiled rich brats who think it’s a fucking game to leave gigantic fucking shits in the bowl just so he has to flush the mess.”

Freddy started to say something else, but Anthony shut him down. “I don’t care what the fuck you have to say. If I find out who’s doing this, they’ll have to answer to me, and I’ll give them a fucking pounding.”

I have to admit that I was both surprised at how Anthony took up Janusz’s cause and ashamed at my initial reaction, which was one of indifference to Janusz’s plight and muted bemusement at how fucked up it was that someone was soiling the corner stall on purpose, which I found vaguely humorous then even if I do not now. Freddy shrugged, and the rest of us all fell in line, and the conversation ended. When I look back in admiration at Anthony, I often think at how I and others let our prejudices cloud our vision and underestimated him at first. If you didn’t know him, you might have thought he was just a handsome meathead with a big personality, a big voice, and a big cock. But, he was also big on character and fundamental decency, particularly when others were low on it, like now. Anthony’s family was newer to prosperity than those of us who had grown up on white bread and swimming lessons at country clubs. He had seen the backbreaking work his father and grandfather and uncles had undertaken as they carved and cut marble that graced public buildings and grand homes in and around New York. He recognized what a gift it was to bathe in the splendor of a warm shower on a December afternoon at an elite private college in Vermont even if the rest of us did not.

After Anthony shut down the sniggering about Janusz, the conversation quickly shifted to our favorite and most frequent topic other than sports, which was sex.

“So, who got laid over Thanksgiving break?” Anthony asked, looking at each of us. “Jack?”

He paused for not more than a short, lingering beat on me, and I thought nothing of it. I shook my head in the negative, which was technically true. In retrospect, knowing what I would later learn about what Anthony knew about me, I might have held his gaze for a longer beat or two as his gaze lingered upon me in a way that felt more like a courtesy than a genuine inquiry. Then he turned his attention to David.

“Dave, buddy, my sources tell me your drum stick got some action over Thanksgiving.”

David, who bristled when certain people called him Dave, shot me an irritated glare and looked at Anthony even-faced. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Anthony nodded his head in my direction. “It wasn’t Jack who told me. I was just fishing, and you confirmed it with the threatening look you just shot him.”

David reached for his soap and lifted his arms up to wash his hairy pits under the stream. He smirked, but wasn’t talking. I’ve mentioned before that David could have an edge about him, and he wasn’t the type of guy who would brag in a group about getting laid, especially if Anthony was the one who was doing the prying.

“C’mon, Dave! Get the pole out of your ass! Tell us about the tail you got!”

David just shook his head. “What about you? I’m guessing you’re dying to tell us all about it.”

Anthony shook the shampoo from his hair and leaned his head down in David’s direction. “As a matter of fact, Dave, I did get laid.”

With a smirk, Sasquatch said, “Was her name Rosy Palm?”

Anthony shot him a scowl. “No, you fucked Rosy Palm. I fucked this girl named Gina from Floral Park.”

“Was she hot?” Sasquatch asked.

“Of course she was hot, you dick wad.” Anthony soaped up his forearms. As he spoke, he moved his hand down and soaped up the hair on his lower belly. “She went to my high school, and I always knew she was hot for my big, fat, Italian sausage.” With that mention of his cock, Anthony grabbed it in one hand and slapped it against the wrist of his other hand a few times, each accompanied by the sound of a loud, heavy smack. That gesture along with the sound effect grabbed everyone’s attention, and he knew it. I’ve noticed over the course of my life that it is human nature for a guy to size up another guy’s cock if he gets the opportunity to see it. I don’t care whether a guy is straight or homosexual or somewhere down the spectrum of male human sexuality: a guy can’t help looking at another guy’s cock, especially if he can get away with it without being seen. I’ve also noticed that if a guy has a big cock and has it out on display for everyone to look at it, all barriers go down, and everyone will look. If the guy also does something as brazen as pick his cock up in one hand and slap it against the other, guys will use that as license to speak about it openly.

“Can you believe that fucking monster?” Howell said. “Sure puts mine to shame.”

The rest of us nodded in silent, awestruck admiration. Even David had to acknowledge begrudgingly that Anthony’s cock was a long, thick, wrinkled monster that had everyone’s beat by far. I have mentioned before that on the precipice of ejaculation, Anthony’s hard cock was 10 ½ inches long and 7 inches thick. Those were his self-reported measurements, but given the visual proof we would all get – and, don’t worry, I will get into more detail about that later – there was no reason to doubt him.

“Instead of always talking about your admittedly horse-sized cock, why don’t you tell us about Gina’s pussy?” David said. There was the hint of an edge to his voice, and I wished that he could lighten up for once and not butt heads with Anthony, particularly now, as all of us stood in the charged atmosphere of the showers as Anthony clearly was about to regale us with the tale of how he had slid that monster into poor – or lucky – Gina, depending on how she looked at it. Anthony flashed David another look to let him know that he had caught the edge in David’s voice, and then turned back to the rest of us, who had mostly finished washing up and were just lingering in the warmth and spray of the steamy showers.

“So, I was saying,” Anthony continued, “I felt she had wanted me for a while, and her friend told this other guy I knew that she was hot for me, which is pretty much as close as you can get to a sure thing. I called her up and asked her out to a movie. I wanted to see ‘Bridge on the River Kwai,’ but I knew that a war movie is not the best for a date. So, I asked her if she wanted to see ‘An Affair to Remember,’ which was about this couple that fall in love and agree to meet at the top of the Empire State Building.”

“You wanted to see ‘An Affair to Remember’?” I asked, surprised that Anthony would have wanted to see such a romantic movie.

He laughed and turned his shower nozzle over in my direction, spraying me across the face. “No, you knucklehead. I didn’t want to see it at all, but girls like that kind of movie. Going to a movie about romance increases your chances of getting laid about a thousand fold, because it gets them into the right frame of mind. Taking a girl to a war movie on a first date pretty much guarantees you’ll be pounding your cock with your fist when you get home instead of pounding her pussy with your cock.”
(continued)

 

[DavidXL]

I laughed and said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And even better was that ‘An Affair to Remember’ was showing at the drive-in over in Valley Stream. The other thing to keep in mind, Jack, is that anyone can get action at a drive-in – they were made with getting action in mind. We go to the drive-in, and Gina slides over next to me, so we’re sitting side by side. I put my arm on her shoulder and just leave it there. I’m interested in Gina and not the movie, but I sit there and pretend I am interested so that she thinks I’m a sensitive, romantic kind-of-guy. In the middle of the movie, when Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr are still apart, Gina says, ‘I think Cary Grant is so handsome.’ I pretend that I’m insulted and say, ‘You think Cary Grant is handsome? What about me? Don’t you think I’m handsome?’”

David laughed out loud. “Only Anthony would have an ego large enough to try to compete with Cary Grant in the looks department.”

Anthony turned his gaze back to David and let his eyes openly look down at David’s cock, which I previously have described as a sexy soda bottle shape that was as handsome as he was. “I think I have lots of things that are large enough.”

“C’mon guys,” Howell said. “I want to hear the rest of the story of how you got laid and what it was like.”

Anthony turned back to us. “Then she said, ‘You’re like an Italian Cary Grant.’”

“Wow,” Howell said. “She said, ‘You’re like an Italian Cary Grant?’”

“Yep,” Anthony said. “I said, “Thank you,” and then she burst out laughing and said, ‘Cary Grant? You’re no Cary Grant. I was just kidding!’ I looked at her all hurt and surprised and insulted. She was laughing so hard. ‘Cary Grant is a gentleman, and I can tell you’re no gentleman. My feelings were hurt, and I took my arm off her shoulder and rested it back on the steering wheel.”

“That’s pretty mean of her,” I said, even though I didn’t think there was anything about Anthony that resembled Cary Grant except they both had black hair. Anthony was not suave or debonair then, and if I had to think of one word to describe him, it would have been “big.” Everything about Anthony was big: not just his cock, but his physical size, his personality, his voice, and how his presence could rise up and fill any room he entered if he wanted it to. I thought of Anthony then as more of a handsome, giant puppy that never stopped moving. Years later, Anthony and I both lived in Manhattan when I was a journalist at Newsweek and Anthony was trading junk bonds on Wall Street. I had not seen him for a couple of years, and we had plans to meet up for drinks at a bar downtown. I remember as he turned the corner and the late afternoon sunlight struck him, as if it were bathing him in a golden hue. He was wearing a custom tailored navy blue suit with French cuffs and shiny black shoes, and he had an aura about him as if he had stepped from the pages of an advertisement for cognac or an expensive European sports car. He was not quite an Italian Cary Grant, but not far from it, and Gina would not have laughed if she had seen him then.

“I thought it was pretty mean, too, especially, because she laughed so hard she snorted. I decided I was going to take her home. I started the car. She said, what are you doing? I said, I am not going to sit here and be insulted. She said turn the car off. I said, why? And she didn’t say anything, she just stared at me and gave me ‘the look.’ I stopped being angry that second, and I leaned in and kissed her.”

“What is ‘the look’?” Sasquatch asked.

One of the great things about Anthony was that he was so much more experienced than the rest of us, and you could ask him a question as basic as that, and he would explain it without making you feel stupid even if you’re standing naked in the shower with an audience, like all of us were. “It’s like this,” Anthony said, stepping over to Sasquatch and putting his arms on Sasquatch’s naked hairy shoulders and staring into his eyes. “You and the girl are looking at each other, right? Your eyes lock, and each of you are thinking ‘I want you’ and the other person knows what you’re thinking, because your eyes are saying what your mind is thinking. Like this,” Anthony said and locked eyes with Sasquatch and slowly nodded up and down.

You would think the rest of us might laugh or mock them, but no one did. Anthony’s physical presence and unimpeachable masculinity imbued him with a power to reach over and grab another naked man by the shoulders in front of all of us in the showers and demonstrate the look a girl would give you when her mind and body wanted you but her mouth was not yet saying it. That’s not to say there wasn’t something supremely erotic at the sight of tall, naked, handsome, broad-shouldered and big-dicked Anthony grabbing our beloved, naked and hairy Sasquatch who searched for the key to the secret of female desire in Anthony’s eyes. At least it was erotic to me. Moreover, out of all of us, only David and Anthony had had sexual intercourse before. The rest of us were virgins, and we would listen to any advice we could get from those fortunate to have crossed over to the other side and knew what the rest of us wanted in the hungriest of ways.

“You got it now?” Anthony asked, stepping back under his shower, his long, heavy cock swaying as he moved.

Sasquatch nodded in awe and gratitude as he etched the lesson into his memory.

“So, we continue kissing, and I immediately pop a rod in my pants. I’m throbbing so hard, and we’ve barely even gone anywhere. We kiss for a while until I think enough time has passed for me to unbutton her blouse without seeming too rushed. Another secret is that if a girl thinks you’re moving too fast and only going after one thing, she’ll shut you down, and you’ll be choking your chicken by yourself at home instead of heading to tuna town.”

Everyone nodded, taking it all in. “Then, I unbuttoned her blouse, and she had the fullest, lushest, juiciest tits. I played with them a bit, and then I buried my face in between them. Here’s another tip: don’t squeeze their tits too much or too hard, they don’t like that. The key is to suck on their nipples and moan while you do it. They love it, it drives them crazy. You can nibble on their nipples, just don’t bite them too hard – that they don’t like that either.

So far, most of what Anthony was saying were things I had figured out on my own. But, it felt educationally useful to hear it from someone else, particularly someone as experienced as him. It was starting to feel too useful however – my cock began to stir, and I was afraid I might get an erection in front of everyone if this conversation continued for too much longer.

“I sucked on her nipples for a while. She started to moan about how good it felt. I was enjoying it myself, but I had other plans. By now, my cock was so hard it hurt, and I was afraid it was going to tear the fabric in my pants. I reached my hand up her skirt, and she didn’t stop me. In no time, I had her panties off and my fingers in her wet pussy.”

“Holy shit!” Howell said. “Her wet pussy!”

“Holy shit was right. She was moaning as my fingers slid in and out of her and around her clit. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, and neither could she. I pulled my pants down and out pops my big, hard cock. Her eyes got wide, like she was scared, and she said, ‘There’s no way that thing is fitting inside me, put it away.’ She really did look frightened, so I kissed her on the lips and told her to trust me, that I’d be gentle. She didn’t look she trusted me at all. But, I pulled out a rubber and unrolled it along the length of my cock.”

By now, all of us were worked up in various degrees from hearing Anthony’s story. David’s cock had lengthened considerably and the broad brown band of his circumcision scar had stretched about three quarters of the way down his shaft. Sasquatch’s medium-sized cock was showing signs of thickening as well. It was hard to tell what was going on with Howell’s cock it was so small, but the round acorn was rosier and plumper. What was truly breathtaking, however, was the sight of Anthony’s monster cock, which was waking from its slumber and coming to life. As he spoke of his escapades at the drive-in and his body was buffeted by the warm water of the shower, his cock had relaxed and lengthened to the point that his foreskin had retracted part way exposing almost half of his glans. My own cock had further awoken and was now approaching half mast, much to my embarrassment.
(continued)

 

[DavidXL]

We all listened raptly as Anthony described his entry into a world the rest of us dreamed of. “’Go in easy, I’m scared,’ she said. ‘I’ve never had one that big before. If I tell you it’s hurting me, you better stop right away or else I’ll start screaming bloody murder.’ I kissed her softly on the lips and said, ‘Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be gentle,’ and then I rubbed my middle finger across the opening of her pussy a few times to make sure she was nice and wet, and I climbed on top of her. I rubbed my cock head across the slit of her pussy for a little while to help open it up. Soon, she stretched out, and I was able to work my knob slowly in. I paused for a moment so she could loosen up and fit the rest of it in, and then I slowly pushed my way in all the way to the bottom.”

“What did it feel like?” Howell asked.

“It felt fucking awesome. Now that she had loosened up some, I started plunging in and out. She was going crazy and telling me how big it was, how I filled her up and she couldn’t believe it felt so good.”

At the words, “plunging in and out,” I had a clear visual image of Anthony’s thick, giant cock pumping up and down on Gina’s vagina, his balls slapping against her. I happened to steal a quick glance at Anthony’s cock, and as he told the story, his large, shiny glans had fully emerged from his foreskin, as if it were gasping for a breath of air. With those words and the sight of the fullness of Anthony’s cock, the semi-erection I had been trying to maintain without encouraging further engorgement involuntarily surged to a full hard-on that I could not hide. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed, and there would be nothing I could do about it. I turned my torso into the shower and started to think how I might be able to discreetly back my way out of the shower without anyone seeing my boner.

“I pumped her for a while on the front seat of the car and then blew my wad into the rubber.”

“Sounds like you really gave it to her,” David said. “Did she have an orgasm, too, or just you?”

Anthony leveled his eyes at David and said, “Of course she did. She had 5 or 6 of them, one right after another.”

“I’ll bet,” David said, with a snide smirk.

“You’re pretty smug for a guy standing in a shower with his cock at half-mast while I tell a story about banging a chick at a drive-in.”

Without looking down at his cock, David said, “It’s not half mast.”

Everyone looked at it, and while it was not quite, half mast, it was close.

And then, I was busted.

“Dave’s not half-mast, but look at Jack!” Freddy said, looking at my cock and then my face. “He’s got a full woody!”

I blushed deeply and tried to turn back into the spray of the shower, but Anthony grabbed me with a strong hand and spun me around. My cock was rock hard after hearing his story and was jutting straight out in front of me, purple and fully engorged, as hard as it ever gets. Even though it made an impressive impression, I was hugely embarrassed that my boner was on open display in front of all of the guys. No one had ever seen my boner before except for Dusty and for David, and I was embarrassed almost to the point of horror that something so private had become public in front of everyone.

Howell gawked unabashedly, his mouth hanging open in surprise. “Holy shit, Jack! You’ve got a huge cock!”

I glared at Freddy, irritated that he of all people was the one calling me out for popping a boner in the shower, when I had hoped I could have slipped out of there discreetly without anyone noticing. Freddy had been a dick to me ever since I had caught him that night getting his cock sucked by Shorty. It was a secret I had not shared with anyone, yet he treated me as if I had. I did not like the glee in his voice and in his eye that he had one up on me now.

Anthony slapped me on the back. “Pretty impressive, Jack. Didn’t know you had it in you. That’s a very serious rod you have there.”

“Hot damn, Jack!” Sasquatch exclaimed. “After Anthony, you might have the biggest cock on the floor!”

Freddy nodded approvingly at my hard cock. He had a big smirk on his face at having busted me and causing me embarrassment, as if somehow I had received pay back for catching him with Shorty.

David took a quick, but admiring look and said, “OK, OK, enough. I’ll let you guys continue your homo boner parade, but I’m out of here.” With that, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel and was gone.

“What can I say?” I said, my face still red. “That was a hot story.”

Anthony smirked. “Glad I was able to give you a big woody, you fairy.”

I was embarrassed enough by now, but I will admit that I got a not-so-secret charge from the open-mouthed looks of surprise and admiration I had received. It also occurred to me how far all of us had grown together over the past several months. I thought back to the beginning of the semester, when all of us were still strangers and we showered together on that first morning. Howell had busted me for checking out Anthony’s huge cock, and I had reacted with abject terror at having been caught, not realizing that Anthony’s cock already had been the subject of conversation amongst the other guys. When I look back, I should not have been surprised: his cock was so large and so noticeable, it was the elephant in the room that at some point someone would have to talk about. Now, at the end of semester, all of us lingered in the shower as Anthony told a hot, sexy story about fucking a girl in a car at a drive-in. I had popped a boner that everyone had seen, and I had survived. Everyone’s cock was in some state of tumescence, and it was no big deal. Yes, I was embarrassed at having everyone see my hard-on, and if I could have prevented it from happening, I would have. But, the difference between today and that first morning when all of us were naked together in the shower for the first time and tried to ignore the sight of Anthony’s huge cock even though no one could, is that all of us had grown together and become the closest buddies to a degree I cherish to this day. And that made my unexpected boner among friends embarrassing to me, but not terrifying.

Enough was enough, and I did not want my boner to be the subject of any further discussion amongst the guys, no matter how flattering the conversation turned. I left the shower and wrapped myself in my towel, folding my hard cock upwards so that it would not be as noticeable as I escaped through the bathroom and back down to the safety of my room. When I reached the door, eager to retreat into the sanctuary of privacy where I could stuff my boner back into my underwear, I was surprised that the door was locked. David and I rarely locked it. In fact, the only time we ever did was when we both were going to be away for the weekend – or, in my case, if I were jerking off and wanted some privacy.

I didn’t have my key and was eager to get inside and stop feeling so exposed. I knocked on the door. “David? You in there? Open up!”

I knocked again. After a few moments, David opened the door, his face flush. I stole a quick glance down to his crotch and thought I detected a bulge. Had he rushed back in here to rub out a quick load after Anthony’s hot story? It sure seemed like it to me.

“Quite a show back there,” he said.

I shook my head and laughed. “I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe all the guys saw me with a woody.” I didn’t know then that even though the embarrassment would dissipate, the memory of the incident would not. From here on out, my buddies from the dorm would call me Woody to this day in homage to that moment.

“Everyone gets them, it’s no big deal,” he said. Then, with a smirk, he added, “Actually, it’s a pretty big deal in your case. I thought Howell’s and Sasquatch’s eyes were going to pop out of their heads in jealousy.”

I laughed again. “It was a pretty hot story.”
(continued)

 

[DavidXL]

“Actually, it was so hot, I had to come back and jerk off a quick load,” he said, and this time he laughed.

I nodded my head. “I thought that’s what was going on in here. I hope I didn’t interrupt you and that you were able to finish.”

“Yep, all finished,” he said with a smirk. He had a crumpled up paper towel in his hand that he tossed into the trashcan where it landed with a heavy thud. “Only took a minute. And good thing you knocked.”

I have mentioned before that my relationship with David was a complicated one, and that I was responsible for many of the complications. In the beginning, I was the needy sidekick looking for acceptance and affection from a roommate and best friend whom I secretly adored and desired to be closer to than customary roommates and best friends might be. Despite our closeness, I had ached for David’s friendship in way that was greater than his interest in me. I am sure he had to have noticed it, despite all of my efforts to project a cool equanimity about us whenever we were together. It seemed to have worked for David even if it did not always work for me. Somewhere along the way, however, as he sensed the truth regarding my relationship with Dusty and struggled to process it, the forces that governed our friendship dynamic shifted. Now that Dusty and I were whatever we were, my interest in David was less than it was before. David had to have noticed that as well. As my heart was pulled in a different direction, David suddenly was afraid that what he took for granted was no longer assured. In the maddening dynamics of human relations, the more I was interested in Dusty and pulled away from David, the more David seemed to be interested in me. He looked at me for a long moment. Again, I got the sense that he wanted to say something to me but didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to say either. I stepped passed him and discreetly dropped my towel and got dressed.

* * *

In the morning, I stopped by Dusty’s room again to say good morning, but he was already gone. We had barely spoken since the incident at Alison’s house. Yes, he had said there was nothing wrong. But, certainly there was. My heart was heavy as I headed out to the dining hall and the beginning of my day.

At the faculty department meeting, I gave the presentation of my paper on the collapse of the British Empire and my analysis of how I thought economic ties between Great Britain and the former colonial territories would continue to maintain strong relationships between the respective parties. I was nervous and humbled to have been asked to do this. When I think back to my 18 year old self, it amazes me that I had the poise and the presence to present an academic paper in such a setting. I remember how strong and clear my voice was. I remember fielding questions from a half dozen professors who challenged me on my thesis. I remember how strongly I believed that what I was saying was right and how adamant I was in defending what I believed to be true. I held my own. I look back and shake my head in wonder at the confidence I had. Professor Johnston seemed quite proud to have a star pupil to show off. I was grateful for the interest he had shown in me, and I consider the experience a defining step in my transition to adulthood.

After classes, I returned to my room and worked on pulling my class notes together to prepare study guides for each of my final exams. David was not back yet, and I was glad to have some quiet. As I lost myself in Economics 101, however, I was interrupted by a knock on my open door followed by a friendly, “Hey, stranger.”

I looked up at the sound of the familiar voice I had not been anticipating to hear. “Hey, Dusty!”

My heart leapt. I was so happy to see him, particularly when it was so unexpected and especially as I was starting to entertain thoughts that all was lost.

He was dressed in sweatpants and running shoes. “I’m heading over for a run at the indoor track. Do you want to join me?”

I was busy and had work to do. But, of course I wanted to join him. The irony is that as much as I hadn’t wanted to be alone with David so that he could confront me about what was going on between Dusty and me, I wanted to be alone with Dusty so I could talk to him about what was going on with us. We talked about the stress of exam preparation as I changed into my track clothes. It was not hard to notice that Dusty’s eyes were on my body as I stripped down, and he allowed himself the luxury of a lingering glance at the bulge of my cock in my white briefs. He offered unsolicited advice on how to use the reading period wisely and how to use my study time efficiently, which I appreciated. I also found his interest in my well-being very sexy, as if he, the all-knowing older buddy were putting a protective arm around my shoulder, even if it was just figurative and not literal.

The conversation shifted to small talk as we strolled down the hall to the stairwell that would take us outside. While I was happy to talk to him about nothing, I had important things I needed to say to him about what was going on with us and how could I fix it. If Dusty was looking to talk about anything serious, however, he wasn’t showing it. We entered the stairwell, and the door closed behind. We reached the landing on the flight below, and then so quickly before I could even be startled, he reached out and grabbed the back of my sweatpants at the waistband. In the same motion, he pulled me back towards him, and I could feel the knuckle of his middle finger against the bare skin of my crack. He spun me around and pressed me against the wall and kissed me gently on the lips once and then again.

“I miss you,” he said.

“I miss you, too,” I said. I kissed him back with a sense of urgency that surprised me. It was no secret to me that I missed him, but to feel his lips, and his tongue, and his mouth all interconnect with mine felt as if I was satisfying the ache of a desperate hunger. Our cocks grew hard and bulged from our sweatpants as our bodies intertwined in the privacy of the stairwell. He pressed the bulge of his hard-on against mine, and they dueled while we made out. I could feel the pounding of his heart in his chest, and he had to have felt the pounding of mine. Finally, he pulled back to catch his breath. As he stood there breathing heavily, his eyes stared into mine, and I was swallowed up by them and never wanted to leave. He twirled the knob of my hard cock between his thumb and index fingers as we stood there, and he regained his composure.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He ran his fingers of his hand through the hair above my ear and leaned in and kissed me tenderly. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“I’m sorry about what happened with Alison. I screwed up. I got carried away and wasn’t thinking. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

He shook his head. “I was thrown off when you tumbled out of the laundry room with a huge boner after Alison’s father pulled you off her, I admit it.”

We both laughed uncomfortably, but I was glad that although the incident still felt regrettable, at least we were able to get a small chuckle out of it, even if it was a wan one.

“It’s all still new between us,” he said, continuing. “And I know you have unresolved business with her, I get it.”

“I don’t want to be with her. I want to be with you. There’s no question in my mind about that.”

“Look,” he said and continued to stroke my hair. “I’ve said it before. I don’t want to hold you back. You’re younger than I am, and I don’t want you ever to think that I’ve stopped you from finding out who you really are and what you really want. College is supposed to be a time of self-discovery. I’ve had 4 years of exploration and self-discovery. College is ending for me in the spring, and it is just starting for you. Do what you need to do, don’t worry about me. My feelings for you aren’t going to change, no matter what happens. Let’s just be honest and open with each other about everything, and we’ll always be OK.”

I put my hand on his waist. “I love you,” I said, my chest tightening with the power of unexpected emotion as I said those words to him. “I really do.”

He smiled as if he had never been happier. “I know you do. I love you, too.”
(continued)

 

[DavidXL]

We were interrupted by the sound of the door to the stairwell opening 2 flights up, and Dusty and I both stepped back to reality. I will admit that part of the excitement for me of my burgeoning relationship with him was the thrill of secrecy. We each had everything to lose if we got caught, and we did not have the luxury of unlimited privacy to explore what we each ached for and wanted to explore with each other. The moments we had had so far had been mostly stolen moments of intense passion that were punctuated by the thrill of getting caught, which is not something that either of us wanted, but was undeniably erotic at the same time and surely added to the excitement of being together.

With yet another furtive moment interrupted, our boners subsided as we bounded down the stairs and out into the cold of the December afternoon. Dusty and I were going to be fine, I just knew it. As we ran together on the indoor track, I remember thinking how happy I was that he and I were together. Of the countless memories I have of my relationship with Dusty, one of the most everlasting is the image of he and I running side-by-side on the indoor and outdoor tracks at Middlebury and along the country roads of Vermont. Each of us was near the peak of physical performance, our bodies in the prime of young adulthood. Our hearts were beating strong, our lungs heaving powerfully, and the sinewy muscles of our bodies taking us as fast as we wanted to go with each other at our sides. To have shared that sensation of truly being alive and pushing our bodies to their limits of performance with another human being as much as I loved Dusty and he loved me back was one of the greatest gifts of my whole life.

* * *

The next two and a half weeks were some of the most difficult of my entire academic career up until that time, with the exception only of the College Board entrance examinations. I had worked hard to get to Middlebury, and I had hopes for my future that extended beyond college. I mentioned at the beginning of this memoir that I knew even before I had arrived here that bigger things in life were meant for me outside of central Connecticut. I had had my eye on the State Department for almost as long as I could remember and knew that I would need a strong academic record to get there. I felt the pressure that however I navigated this exam period would set me on a path that would either take me in the direction of where I wanted to go and else block me from getting what I most wanted to do professionally. It still amazes me as I look back across the near entirety of a long life lived that I had possessed the undaunted certainty of untrammeled ambition to pursue youthful dreams with the only perceived impediment being my own performance. One of the great benefits of youth is the sense of invincibility that flourishes without impediment only until others try to stop it. I may have been naïve then to the power of outside forces. But I fully believed in myself and what I might be able to accomplish if only I worked hard and had a little luck.

Dusty and I grabbed each other when we could for stolen kisses and quick gropes of each other’s cock. But, each of us was distracted by the pain of final exams that we just wanted to be over. David and I had not seen much of each other lately as we each escaped the noise and distraction of the dorm, where it was difficult to study. We each had hibernated in carrels in the basement of the library and tried to prepare ourselves the best we could. Finally, on the last Friday before Christmas, the exams ended, and the first semester came to a close. As much as I loved my life at Middlebury, I was looking forward to going home and doing nothing for the next few weeks.

David and I headed down to the showers together that morning, and I remember the giddy sense of relief we felt that exams were over even if we did not know how we had performed. We stood under the cascade of warm water, and I remember thinking how lucky I was to have him as a roommate. He was a beautiful human being inside and out in ways that were both similar and different than Dusty. Both were incredibly smart and undeniably handsome. Both had taut, athletic bodies and impressive cocks. Both were driven and held themselves to high standards. But as tightly wound as David could be, Dusty was more laidback. As open as Dusty could be, David could be closed, which was frustrating and appealing at the same time. Yes, it was complicated between us, and I knew that there was still an undercurrent caused by the magnetic force of unsaid words and sentiments that drew each of us in and repelled each of us away at the same time. But, there was still something uncommon and strong between us that I had understood right away and David still seemed to be processing. In any case, both of us lingered in the camaraderie of friendly nudity under the shower of warm water, openly stealing glances at each other’s cocks and bodies until the other guys made their way into the bathroom.

The last official business that morning before people started to leave for Christmas break was an all-hands meeting in the second floor lounge that Dusty had called in his capacity as RA. All of the guys from the floor gathered together. If anyone wondered what the meeting was about when the notice of mandatory attendance was posted, no one had any doubts when Janusz joined Dusty at the front of the room. It is a testament to the authority Dusty commanded that with little effort he was able quiet down a room of rowdy freshmen eager to head home after the grind of a grueling round of final exams. I have mentioned before that Dusty had an aura about him that transcends looks. Yes, he was exceedingly handsome and easy to look at, even if you weren’t of the persuasion that I was and looked at him with sexual desire. He had a charisma about him that made people want to listen to him and to be around him as if some of his magic might rub off just by being near him. Plus, it was common knowledge from the gang shower that he had a big cock, even if it was not as big as Anthony’s. One of the other axioms I have learned over the course of my long life is that if other men know another man has a big cock, he is accorded a higher level of respect he might not otherwise have had even if it is not to a level of absolute deference. You can deny it all you want, but there is truth to what I say. No matter what Dusty’s draw was, he was able draw people into his world, and not just me.

After everyone quieted down, Dusty cut to the chase. It turned out that the sign Janusz had affixed to the corner stall in the bathroom right after Thanksgiving had not solved the problem. In fact, it likely exacerbated the situation, because signs written with the slanted scrawl of an angry man cropped up on every stall, front and back, at the beginning of the week. The quiet rage that Janusz projected when he as annoyed about a mess that one of us had caused looked like it was about to boil over into open fury given the agitated way with which he carried himself that morning. It was impossible not to take note of the redness in his face and the blackness in his eyes as he scanned the room in search of the culprit who openly taunted and disrespected him behind the cowardly veil of anonymity.

Dusty, too, had an angry demeanor this morning, one that none of us had ever seen, not even me. His eyes had lost their sparkle, and his tone was one of incredulous disgust and disappointment. “I think many of you can guess why we we’re all here this morning,” he said. “And if you can’t, here it is in plain English: one or more than one of you is behaving in an incredibly disrespectful and anti-social way. I am not going to tolerate it, and neither is the college. I’m imploring you as human beings to stop it right now. Think about how you would feel if you were in Janusz’s shoes. Or if Janusz were your father or your brother. If it doesn’t stop immediately, and we find out who it is, there will be severe consequences, including suspension or expulsion. Am I clear?” He looked around the room, though we all knew his question was rhetorical.

“Good,” Dusty said. “I’ll consider the matter closed.”

Freddy raised his hand, and Dusty called upon him.

“I’m sorry,” Freddy said. “I don’t understand the problem.”

The room, which already had been quiet, went dead silent. “Excuse me?” Dusty asked.
(continued)

 

[DavidXL]

(thanks for reading if you've lasted this far; this is the end of this chapter)

Freddy shrugged. “I don’t understand what the problem is.”

Dusty’s eyes narrowed. “The problem, Freddy, is that someone – or more than one person – is defecating in the toilets and not flushing. They’re leaving big messes everywhere, and Janusz is left to clean it up. It’s shameful and despicable behavior. Moreover, it appears that people are also masturbating in the stalls and leaving behind puddles of semen all over them. That’s the problem.”

At the mention of masturbating in the stalls and left-behind semen, there was a rash of stifled giggles. I felt a pang of culpability on that account, as it was something I imagine many of us had done at one point or another over the course of the fall, me included. When you are a young guy like we all were and did not always have sufficient privacy to satisfy that distracting urge to release your reservoir of sperm that were yearning to be unloaded on at least a daily basis and often more, you grabbed privacy wherever and whenever you could. Sometimes, that meant the stall. I was discreet, and getting caught was the last the thing I wanted, so I would not have shot my load onto the walls or door of the stall or left it on the floor without wiping it up. My usual MO was to shoot it straight into the bowl or else into a paper towel I held in my hand. I knew they weren’t talking about me and what I was doing, but if felt some guilt by association just the same.

What Dusty was describing, however, was something else. On at least a daily basis, someone was whacking off and blowing a load on the back of the stall door or on the seat and just walking away, leaving the mess for others to see and for Janusz to clean up along with shit-filled bowls. Moreover, there was the risk of it being seen or sat upon or brushed against, which was just plain rude, in my opinion.

Freddy shrugged, and said, “Maybe I am missing something here, but it’s Janusz’s job to clean up after us. If he doesn’t like it, maybe he should get another job.”

I was not a big fan of Freddy’s as you may have gathered already. He was a handsome, spoiled rich kid from Shaker Heights, Ohio who had be anointed with beauty and money, and he spent both of those attributes as if he had earned them. Yes, he had moments of good charm and a welcome companion to good fun. But, this wasn’t one of those.

Anthony did not think so either, because he stood up. “Shut up, Freddy. You’re being as asshole. We talked about this in the showers, and I said as much then. Cut it out.”

“How am I being an asshole?”

Freddy pointed his finger at Freddy and raised his voice an entire range of decibels. “You shut your fucking mouth right now or else I’ll shut it for you.”

Freddy crossed his arms. Anthony had effectively shut him down, and there was no further discussion. The whole situation was bizarre, and it was unsettling to think that someone in this room was engaging in such anti-social behavior, particularly when we had been asked already to stop and particularly that it had reached a level that was sufficiently serious that we had to have a formal meeting like this about it. Freddy’s disdainful questions and tone added an ugliness to a meeting that was already starting at a low point and ended up even lower. I didn’t think that Freddy had anything to do with the shenanigans in the stalls, but by trying to suggest that Janusz did not have the right to object had inflamed the situation and added to the tension. Our society is more egalitarian in many ways than it was then even if it is still far from perfect. But, it is not as acceptable now as it was then to keep the downtrodden down or reminding people of their station in life as it was then when it seemed that there was always someone trying keep blacks, Hispanics, women, homosexuals, and foreigners in their place. I hoped this was the end of it. I could tell by the anger and irritation that that had been brushed on Dusty’s and especially Janusz’s faces that it better be or else there would be more trouble.

Most everyone left for home that afternoon, including David. He looked drained and exhausted from exams, as all of us were, and was glad to be on his way home to recover. Despite the uncertainty between us, I was definitely going to miss him over break and hoped that our friendship would be reset in a positive way when the new semester started. Because this was one of the last big trading days of the year, my father was not able to drive up to get me until the next day, which was a Saturday. People like Dusty, who had cross-country flights home, would not be leaving until tomorrow as well. When Dusty and I learned of our mutually belated departure date, a stadium’s worth of bright lights lit up in each of our heads at how this presented a unique opportunity to spend the night together in the quiet of a dormitory that was otherwise empty of almost every other student. My cock stirred at the thought of the possibilities, and he broke out into an open grin at the prospect of the pleasures that would happen if we had the luxury of entire night behind a locked door. As things would turn out, our relationship was about to take a few leaps forward.