All Male College, 1957

[MNTU]

The best story out there. It made me really live the story. I really hope we get a part 2 and can’t wait to see what happens with Dusty and Jack.

 

[robingoodfellow]

That was great.
I'm not sure, I may be in the minority, but I was team David the whole time.
That said, still cried a bunch for Dusty and the end of their relationship.

 

[whythough]

y’all i cried and died. that ending was something that really said “this is the ending and i’m holding on to you and making you contemplate your life for the next ten years and you will never find a way to free yourself of my grasp”

 

[meccho_28]

Thanks a lot for this great reading pleasure. I can't wait to know what will happen next.

 

[Jaxzb001]

This was one of the most amazing stories I’ve ever read and it needs to be published.

 

[Idunno02]

Bump this up! I came here for the erotic, but I stayed for the story. Wow, what at amazing writer DavidXL is. This was so elegantly written and the characters are all so compelling. I wish there were more! DavidXL - please let us know if you ever write a follow-up for the later years.

 

[Shotgunangel]

[Thanks for sticking with me! This is the last part of the chapter]

My younger sister was on a week-long class trip to Washington, D.C., a fortuitous frolic for my parents, who had been prompted to sail off to Bermuda, and for me. It meant that I had the house to myself. I didn’t feel like calling up any of my old friends from high school, though I thought it rather telling that no one called me up either. I went to the movies by myself. I watched too much TV. I ordered in pizza and drank cold beers in the back yard. I ran through the house naked. I masturbated like a fiend and made a game of jerking off in every room in the freedom of the empty house. I was the happiest I had been in a while, even if my cock was raw.

The following Saturday, the day before my parents were to return, was Middlebury’s graduation. I had awoken at 3 am in a panic, my subconscious mind awhirl about Dusty even if I had had tried to convince myself that I was moving past him. The thought occurred to me that this might be the last time I would ever know with probably certainty where he was. After he graduated and left Middlebury, he could be anywhere. It was one thing knowing where he was even if he wasn’t speaking with me, it was another thing to let him go out into the broader world to live the rest of his life without me and not know where he was at all.

By 4 am, I was in my father’s 1956 Cadillac and driving to Vermont. By 7:30 am, I was having breakfast in the diner in town, the one right next to Garden of the Orient. I was wearing pressed khakis that had been wrinkled from the drive, a starched white shirt, a blue blazer, and the blue and burgundy striped repp tie that I would later give to Chris. I didn’t fully know what I was doing here. But, I knew I had to see Dusty one last time, even if from a distance.

I sat in the stands during the Commencement ceremony. I watched as Dusty received his diploma and received only light applause from the audience, a level of recognition that surprised me with its indifference given his prominence on campus. He had been popular amongst his class and had been head of the Honor Society until Dean Hoffman had taken that honor away. None of that mattered to me, of course. I stood up and gave Dusty the hearty applause he deserved. I even whistled. I wished him the best, no matter what had happened with us.

After the ceremonies had ended, the graduates clustered with their families and friends they likely would rarely see again except at reunions or if they happened to be moving to the same city. I watched from a distance as Dusty posed for photographs with his parents. He looked incredibly handsome in his cap and gown, and his parents beamed with pride. I had noticed in the Commencement ceremony’s printed program that while he had been identified as receiving his diploma magna cum laude, that he had not been included on the list of Phi Beta Kappa inductees, the only magna graduate not on the list. I could only assume that the college had not submitted him for the honor, which required the nominating institution to vouch for the nominee’s moral character.

I moved closer for a last look at him before I left, not wanting to intrude on the private moments with his family. He saw me and then looked away. I didn’t think I had any hurt left in my body, but the coldness of that gesture reawakened the caustic pain of loneliness I had tried to convince myself had been dissipating even though it really hadn’t. I turned to leave and did not look back.

“Jack! Jack!”

I had not heard that voice in so long. I turned around and saw Dusty and his parents looking at me. His mother smiled and waved. Dusty gestured for me to join them. I thought my heart would pound its way out of my chest as I jogged over to them.

“I’d like to introduce you to my parents,” Dusty said, as if the past 2 months of silence had not gone by.

His father shook my hand, and his mother did as well. “I’m Virginia McCaffrey,” she said, shaking my hand longer than she had to. “Dusty’s told me so much about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m going to miss him.”

“You’ll have to come visit us in California,” she said. “We would love to have you.”

“Thank you,” I said, knowing that would never happen. Commencement was a tricky word that signified both an end and a beginning, but this felt like an end. I glanced over at Dusty. He smiled an uncharacteristically shy smile and looked down at his feet. He didn’t say anything.

Dusty’s mother said to Dusty’s father, “Hand me the camera, I want to take a picture of the boys.”

Dusty moved close to me and slid his arm over my shoulder, which felt like heaven. I wrapped my arm around his waist. It was the first time in two months that we had touched each other, and I ached with sadness at the sense that it would be the last.

Dusty’s mother was not what I had imagined. I had expected Doris Day, but Virginia McCaffrey was prematurely gray, and she had the sinewy limbs and sun-damaged skin that were the byproducts of years of running the family orange grove in Southern California. She had a kind manner about her, and I had heard from Dusty of her intelligence and desire that he have a different, more lettered life than she had. She had poured so much of herself into her son so that he could live the dream that had been hers, and I could tell by the way her eyes followed him how much she loved him. She smiled at me, and I knew at that instant she knew who her son was and what he was to me. I smiled back and nodded in tacit acknowledgement. She raised the camera to her face and focused it on us.

“Move in closer,” she said, and Dusty tightened his grip on my shoulder.

“I am so sorry for everything,” he said in a whisper only I would hear, his voice choked with emotion.

My eyes were wet with unspilled tears at the agony of this farewell. At the end of the day, he would leave with his parents and fly back to California, and I would drive back to Connecticut. Our lives would go in different directions, and we would be separated by geography in addition to the other forces that had separated us. I thought of how the world had laid waste to our relationship and smothered what had meant everything to me. I had lost faith in so much that had mattered to me over the last half of the semester. I had been damaged in ways I knew could never be fixed, and I felt a bitterness rise up with the sadness inside me. Dusty squeezed my shoulder, and I thought of how this was the end of us. What I had forgotten at that moment was the enduring power of love and human connection. If I had fully understood that power, I would have known that as Dusty squeezed my shoulder, this was not the end of us, but only the end of the beginning.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - THE END - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I know it probably doesn't make much sense to reply to this now, as it has been so long but ... Wow.
I've been reading your story over the last month, and I must say I hardly ever read a story that managed such an alliance of rhythm, imagery, emotion, sexiness and pure innocence ... I'm truly inspired and moved. I didn't read the whole thread yet but wow. If there's something after this I'm reading it ...

Thank you so much DavidXL, your story means so much

 

[LoveBigDicks5678]

Hi, guys - thank you very much for the continued interest. I know I have said (a few times) that I will be coming back to this. I definitely will, I just have to find the time to do it properly. I am glad it cheered you up, xsweet_spunkxx. I actually wrote it during a very, very rough 2 year period in my life, and it helped cheer me up both to write it and to know that it was being enjoyed by others. Thanks again.

David

Have you continued the story?

 

[Mr.I]

Will the story be continued? Just recently found this and I love it!

 

[flguyjax]

What a great story, thanks for the riveting visuals that it created in my mind...

 

[mike.vice]

finished reading in two days. beautiful and deep story. wide range of emotions.

 

[scatter-shikai]

Reading this during my holidays in France with my boyfriend has brought emotions that haven't emerged in a long time. David, I finished your beautiful story lying in my bed and crying. I do hope you are well and using your creative energies for other projects. Even though we probably won't get a continuation of the story, we for sure know that it ends well. Thank you for this experience. I am sure that I will never forget it.

 

[NixNStyx]

Just beginning to get into this story (I'm only on Chapter 6) and this is Gordon Merrick level good. Perhaps a bit better because it's a bit more sweet and romantic and winsome. I keep coming back to the word romantic because erotic seems too vulgar. Though maybe I just haven't reached the especially explicit parts yet. Anyway, excellent work. Now let me continue reading.

 

[Krobbie1954]

Thanks everyone for reading the story so far and for your comments. I can't tell you much I appreciate them. This story is very personal for me, and I'm glad that I am able to share it with someone other than just me.

BiginBellvue - thank you for saying that. I've tried hard to make it both literary and erotic, and I am so happy you picked up on what my intentions were in that regard. Additionally, it is all fiction, but it makes me feel great that you think it sounds like I'm recounting my own experiences. I had good friends in college and some naked antics, but nothing like this. These are the kind of guys and friendships and experiences that I would have wanted to have, but didn't. Since I didn't have it, I've tried to write here what I wanted but wasn't able to experience. Thanks again.

David XL, you’re not going to believe that I am just now reading your biographical remembrance of your college years. It’s 2023 and your writing has lost nothing to time or fashions in recollections as say, movies and television. Your writing reads as fresh as they days they were written.

 

[Krobbie1954]

[Thanks for sticking with me! This is the last part of the chapter]

My younger sister was on a week-long class trip to Washington, D.C., a fortuitous frolic for my parents, who had been prompted to sail off to Bermuda, and for me. It meant that I had the house to myself. I didn’t feel like calling up any of my old friends from high school, though I thought it rather telling that no one called me up either. I went to the movies by myself. I watched too much TV. I ordered in pizza and drank cold beers in the back yard. I ran through the house naked. I masturbated like a fiend and made a game of jerking off in every room in the freedom of the empty house. I was the happiest I had been in a while, even if my cock was raw.

The following Saturday, the day before my parents were to return, was Middlebury’s graduation. I had awoken at 3 am in a panic, my subconscious mind awhirl about Dusty even if I had had tried to convince myself that I was moving past him. The thought occurred to me that this might be the last time I would ever know with probably certainty where he was. After he graduated and left Middlebury, he could be anywhere. It was one thing knowing where he was even if he wasn’t speaking with me, it was another thing to let him go out into the broader world to live the rest of his life without me and not know where he was at all.

By 4 am, I was in my father’s 1956 Cadillac and driving to Vermont. By 7:30 am, I was having breakfast in the diner in town, the one right next to Garden of the Orient. I was wearing pressed khakis that had been wrinkled from the drive, a starched white shirt, a blue blazer, and the blue and burgundy striped repp tie that I would later give to Chris. I didn’t fully know what I was doing here. But, I knew I had to see Dusty one last time, even if from a distance.

I sat in the stands during the Commencement ceremony. I watched as Dusty received his diploma and received only light applause from the audience, a level of recognition that surprised me with its indifference given his prominence on campus. He had been popular amongst his class and had been head of the Honor Society until Dean Hoffman had taken that honor away. None of that mattered to me, of course. I stood up and gave Dusty the hearty applause he deserved. I even whistled. I wished him the best, no matter what had happened with us.

After the ceremonies had ended, the graduates clustered with their families and friends they likely would rarely see again except at reunions or if they happened to be moving to the same city. I watched from a distance as Dusty posed for photographs with his parents. He looked incredibly handsome in his cap and gown, and his parents beamed with pride. I had noticed in the Commencement ceremony’s printed program that while he had been identified as receiving his diploma magna cum laude, that he had not been included on the list of Phi Beta Kappa inductees, the only magna graduate not on the list. I could only assume that the college had not submitted him for the honor, which required the nominating institution to vouch for the nominee’s moral character.

I moved closer for a last look at him before I left, not wanting to intrude on the private moments with his family. He saw me and then looked away. I didn’t think I had any hurt left in my body, but the coldness of that gesture reawakened the caustic pain of loneliness I had tried to convince myself had been dissipating even though it really hadn’t. I turned to leave and did not look back.

“Jack! Jack!”

I had not heard that voice in so long. I turned around and saw Dusty and his parents looking at me. His mother smiled and waved. Dusty gestured for me to join them. I thought my heart would pound its way out of my chest as I jogged over to them.

“I’d like to introduce you to my parents,” Dusty said, as if the past 2 months of silence had not gone by.

His father shook my hand, and his mother did as well. “I’m Virginia McCaffrey,” she said, shaking my hand longer than she had to. “Dusty’s told me so much about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m going to miss him.”

“You’ll have to come visit us in California,” she said. “We would love to have you.”

“Thank you,” I said, knowing that would never happen. Commencement was a tricky word that signified both an end and a beginning, but this felt like an end. I glanced over at Dusty. He smiled an uncharacteristically shy smile and looked down at his feet. He didn’t say anything.

Dusty’s mother said to Dusty’s father, “Hand me the camera, I want to take a picture of the boys.”

Dusty moved close to me and slid his arm over my shoulder, which felt like heaven. I wrapped my arm around his waist. It was the first time in two months that we had touched each other, and I ached with sadness at the sense that it would be the last.

Dusty’s mother was not what I had imagined. I had expected Doris Day, but Virginia McCaffrey was prematurely gray, and she had the sinewy limbs and sun-damaged skin that were the byproducts of years of running the family orange grove in Southern California. She had a kind manner about her, and I had heard from Dusty of her intelligence and desire that he have a different, more lettered life than she had. She had poured so much of herself into her son so that he could live the dream that had been hers, and I could tell by the way her eyes followed him how much she loved him. She smiled at me, and I knew at that instant she knew who her son was and what he was to me. I smiled back and nodded in tacit acknowledgement. She raised the camera to her face and focused it on us.

“Move in closer,” she said, and Dusty tightened his grip on my shoulder.

“I am so sorry for everything,” he said in a whisper only I would hear, his voice choked with emotion.

My eyes were wet with unspilled tears at the agony of this farewell. At the end of the day, he would leave with his parents and fly back to California, and I would drive back to Connecticut. Our lives would go in different directions, and we would be separated by geography in addition to the other forces that had separated us. I thought of how the world had laid waste to our relationship and smothered what had meant everything to me. I had lost faith in so much that had mattered to me over the last half of the semester. I had been damaged in ways I knew could never be fixed, and I felt a bitterness rise up with the sadness inside me. Dusty squeezed my shoulder, and I thought of how this was the end of us. What I had forgotten at that moment was the enduring power of love and human connection. If I had fully understood that power, I would have known that as Dusty squeezed my shoulder, this was not the end of us, but only the end of the beginning.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - THE END - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

DavidXL, I cannot begin to find words to describe how moved I am by your story whether they be fiction, drawn from biography or other. Just how you pout it together has made me laugh heartily and weep. It is beautifully and artfully writen and it has been a joy to read although I still have unused tears inside my bottom eyelids. I thank you.
Keith Robinson, Auckland, New Zealand, 2023. I am 69 years of age.
I child of the mid fifties and can connect with quite a bit of this story.

 

[Aendiih]

I can't begin to describe how much this story have moved me. I writing this with tears streaming down my cheeks. That last scene when Dusty and Jack is being photographed and Jack knows that this is the end, my heart broke and it aches when I think of it now.

I am a 37 male and have been in a same sex-relationship with the love of my life for almost twenty years now. I can still remember my first real crush and how my world just fell apart when I realized that it wouldn't be us forever. All those feelings came rushing over me when I read this story. Now matter how much you try, you can't tell a young, broken, heart that it will heal and get better. That knowledge only comes from experience.

Would this ever get published I'm defenetely buying a copy. Excellent work and Im longing for the next chapters.

 

[Mikemc422]

Oh. My. God. @DavidXL what you have written here is amazing! I somehow stumbled upon it unintentionally about three days ago, and although I’ve been insanely busy I couldn’t seem to put it down- reading while cooking, reading while doing dishes, reading while working, reading when I should definitely be sleeping- I can’t remember the last time I read something so captivating and well written. I don’t remember ever reading something that while scanning the words the scenes appeared in my head like a movie. I realize it’s been ~8 years since you finished the last chapter, but I’m hoping and praying you’ll still write the second book (and maybe more after that), reading this left me, and many others, wanting more! Truly outstanding job David, this deserves to be published. I’d buy several copies in a heartbeat.

 

[zookeeper26]

I just finished reading this story, and I can't help but feeling lost in sadness.
I'm sad because Jack and Dusty had to part ways like that, sad that the story ended (well, I hope you write the follow up soon), sad that I wished this was a book so I could by it and read it anytime I want.

I was rooting for Jack and Dusty, but also for Jack and David.

I'm really sad right now, I need to know more. I'm so invested in this.

 

[DavidXL]

Hi, everyone - thank you so much for your kind comments, which I really, really appreciate. I am so happy this story spoke to people and continues to 10 years after I started writing it. I wrote this during a difficult time in my life, and it provided me with a refuge to hide out in and distract me from things that weren't going right. The characters and their stories are all in my head, and I do hope to come back to it. Thank you all again.