A gay story: Getting… Educated Ch. 03
I had secluded myself for three days since being forcefully penetrated four times in a span of two days, seeking refuge in a converted motel-turned-apartment near the campus. I had dropped my logic class and was keeping a low profile. However, the noise at the former motel was distracting me from my studies, so I relocated to a small, overgrown park nearby. I sat at an old picnic table, thinking I was hidden from view, but I soon realized that I had a clear line of sight to one of the fraternity houses.
As I was engrossed in my studies, the sound of running water drew my attention. I turned to see Greg, the fraternity’s secretary, washing his red Thunderbird convertible in the circular drive. He was dressed in tight, low-cut latex biker shorts and was barefoot, showcasing his well-built physique and fluid movements – a wrestler’s dream. Mesmerized by his actions, I couldn’t help but feel a stirring below my belt. I tried to ignore it, but he was undeniably attractive. He must have noticed me, as he smiled invitingly. I pretended not to see him and returned to my studies, but I couldn’t resist stealing glances at him.
As he moved around the car, flexing his muscles and doing exaggerated stretches, I couldn’t deny my physical response any longer. Despite the traumatic events of the past week, I couldn’t deny the pleasure I had taken in them, even the brutality of Nate and the dean. I tried to fool myself into thinking that I didn’t respond to other men in this way, but I couldn’t hide from the truth as I surreptitiously stroked myself through my silky basketball shorts.
Greg came around to this side of his car. He leaned over the hood and shimmied his rear end as he rubbed the sponge over the car. His butt cheeks were well defined in the rider’s shorts, and they were nicely rounded. He turned full toward me, lifted the hose over his head, arched his back, and just let the water stream over his blond hair and down across his solid, well-cut torso. I could see he was laughing. He threw the hose down, went out of sight briefly, presumably to cut off the water, and returned with a hand towel. He tossed his head back and forth to fling off the excess water and then slowly toweled himself down. He dropped the towel and languidly ran his hand over his pecs and his six pack and his belly and down to his basket. He stood stroking himself there, just as I was stroking myself where I sat, and then I saw him laugh and walk straight in my direction. I was glued to the spot by the shock that he was coming to me; I should have gotten up and hurriedly left in the other direction, but I just sat there, watching him come to me.
Greg sauntered up to the table and around to my side and leaned his butt into the edge of the table right next to me.
“Well, hello there, Stud. Do you know that lots of people have been looking for you? Professor Hollings, your roommate, Nate, even the dean—especially the dean?”
“No, I’m not really aware of that. I’m just trying to get on with my studies.”
“Do you know I’ve been looking for you too?”
“No, why would you be looking for me?”
“I felt we didn’t really get to know each other the other day. And I would really like to get to know you better. I don’t even know your name. What’s your name?”
“I see no reason to get to know each other better.”
“You can’t see why I wouldn’t want to get to know you better. Here, look here.” He had his hand on his basket. His cock was standing almost straight out, trying to get out of the confining tight latex. “Doesn’t this explain why I’d want to get to know you better. And these, these are for you this time.” He’d dug his hand into a pocket and come up with a couple of condom packets.
“It seems you already have known me better than almost anyone else,” I said bitterly.
“And you want to get to know me better too, Don’t you . . .? What’s your name again? Could it be Peter? See, Peter is wanting to know me better.” And he reach down and tweaked the tented fabric in my lap. There was no doubt that he was having an effect on me.
“I . . . I think I’d better go,” I squeaked out and started to gather up my books and rise from the bench. But Greg was too fast for me. He quickly and fluidly swiveled behind me and swung his left leg around me; sitting right behind me, with me scooted up to the front edge of the bench and him barely on the back edge. I was trapped with him behind and on either side of me and the picnic table close to my chest. He wrapped his arms around me and gave a sigh. Once again, just as the other day, I could feel his insistent cock trapped between his body and the small of my back.
“Listen, Greg. I’m not really—”
“You put on quite a performance with the dean the other day. He’s been downright jolly for days. Think he’d been afraid that he was moving into his Viagra years. But not after you came along.”
“Look, Greg. I came to the dean to report that I’d been assaulted, not to turn him on. I’ve had no experience in—”
“Screw experience. Experience can be overrated. I like you just the way you are.” He wasn’t wasting time; his right hand drifted down the front of my T-shirt, went between my belly and the waistband of my shorts, found my cock, and started teasing and stroking it.
“Greg. I’m not going to—”
“Sure you are,” Greg said in a steely voice. “Sure you are, but I’d much rather it was because you wanted to.” With his left hand he pushed my shorts down in the back so that they were half-way down my butt cheeks and he released his cock from his latex biker’s shorts and let it run itself up the top of my butt crack and onto the small of my back. Then, with his left hand, he reached around and gently pushed my face to the side.
“Kiss me. We didn’t get to kiss the other day, and it’s been driving me crazy wondering how you taste.”
“No, Greg, I don’t do—”
“Hey, didn’t Hollings give you the logic lecture? How do you know you don’t want to until you’ve tried it? It’s just logic.” Then he laughed and gave me a million-dollar smile, which moved to my lips. He started with a sweet lips-only kiss, but moved into a more open, deeply probing kiss. He was still stroking my cock, and I put my hand over his there, on the outer side of the material and moved with him. He was stroking up and down along my butt crack in back, dry fucking me there. He brought his hand out of my crotch and, with both hands, pulled my T-shirt up and off me and threw it to the side. His hands were flying all over my arm muscles, my pits, pecs, nipples, abs, navel, belly, and back down to stroking my cock. With a sigh, I lifted my butt a bit more, and he pulled my pants down further, and continued dry fucking up my crack and onto the small of my back, this time with more cleavage to stroke in. I must admit I expected him to try to enter me again from that position, and I was marshaling my strength to try to fight him off, but before he could get around to that, he came up the small of my back in a jerk and jackoff that probably surprised him as much as me.