This is the story of what I am sure was one of the great loves of my life. I'll try to keep it as close to the truth as I can. I am no longer in love, but thought it would be good to experience the catharsis of writing this huge experience down - plus there were some pretty hot times I hope you'll enjoy... Too Good To Be True, Part 1: My best friend wouldn't quit. Every time we spoke, this same name kept popping up: Adam. Robert and I had been best friends since we were eight years old. We were now 19, at different universities in the same city, and closer than ever after having come out to each other two years earlier. It was early December, 2007. In September, he had started studying Spanish and had started making a lot of new friends from this class. Adam was one of them. "You have to meet him," Robert always said, "Adam's maybe not your type - not one of those anorexic boys you usually go for - but he's 20 and he's really hot, with a great body! He used to be a champion swimmer... I haven't seen him in the water but in a tight t-shirt... Jesus... He's really smart too, a real intellectual - English isn't his first language, but he speaks it better than me. Oh, and he's Czech..." After a messy break up - and months of lying myself that I was over it - I wasn't sure I would ever "feel" again. I had been numbed by the pain, the breakdowns and the heartache of unrequited first love over the course of a year. I hadn't seen the guy in six months, and wasn't interested in anyone. I was turning into a celibate nihilist. I didn't even want to go out. I turned down most party invites, just kept my head down and studied. Plus social network sites were in full swing by then, so I had enough to occupy my time. I noticed on one of my nights alone that Robert had added an Adam with a foreign sounding surname to his top friends list. I took a peek at the profile and instantly felt my dick stir at the image - those cold, ice blue eyes staring out through a beautiful, tempered mess of dark, curled hair. Must be photoshopped, I told myself - I was turning nihilistic, remember? He wore a black t-shirt and not only could you see his beautifully developed biceps and forearms; but distinctly crafted pecs under the shirt. One of his hands was in shot, thick fingers around a muscular palm. I started getting lost in his thick lips, his wide nostrils... I jumped up in shock at the vibration against the full erection I didn't know I had - pulling my phone out of my pocket and waiting one ring until I picked it up - to adjust back out of the aroused haze. "Hello?" "Are you at home? Again?" It was Robert - and he knew the answer before he asked. "Yeah... Where are you tonight?" "Just out on the town with some of the guys from class." I felt a lump in my throat and tried to swallow - and my erection was getting stiffer. "Hey, Adam's here, why don't you say hi?" "What? No, I..." There were some scratching noises, then: "Hello!" It was him. "Hi, how are you?" "I'm bloody brilliant! Got some good beers, good music - I'm happy - but why aren't you out? I've been hearing about you from Rob..." His mongrel accent gave no clue whatsoever as to where he was from. There were hints of every corner of Europe over some transatlantic drawl. His voice was beautiful. I could see my boner tenting my jeans and sat back down at the computer seat. His profile picture was still on my screen, pouting at me through the dark hair. "Oh, I'm just... busy with some work tonight... for uni tomorrow," I lied. "Ah, I see, that's too bad. From what I hear you're a lot of fun with some alcohol in you. Believe me, so am I..." I thought I could hear him winking through the phone. My hardon was unbearable. "Haha..." There was a silence. My laugh sounded unconvincing. What can you even say to that? And a now-painful erection is hardly conducive to thinking on one's feet! Adam was the first to speak: "Well, it was nice to talk to you - I'll let you get on with your work. Goodbye!" He hung up. Five minutes later, I had his voice in my mind as I lay slouched in my computer chair - my t-shirt pulled up to my chest; my jeans at my knees; my stomach sprayed with cum; my dick refusing to go soft completely soft even after a hard shoot - repeating: "From what I hear... You're a lot of fun... With some alcohol in you... Believe me... So am I..." I swear, as those words repeated, the profile picture looked like it was winking - winking at me.