The Higher Education of Matt Griffith – Chapter 15: This Little Light of Mine
Dive into Chapter 15 of “The Higher Education of Matt Griffith” as passions ignite and secrets unfold. Join Matt on a journey of self-discovery and desire, where every encounter sheds light on the complexities of love and intimacy. Don’t miss this captivating chapter filled with steamy moments and heartfelt revelations!
Saturday, September 16, 1995
Copyright 2024. All characters in this story are fictional and are not meant to represent any living persons.
Note to readers: This is a long chapter with 4 scenes. If you just want the sex, scene 1 is the erotic setup, and scene 4 is the payoff. Scenes 2 & 3 are character and plot development.
Personal Note: This chapter marks the halfway point in this tale. For those who have been keeping up, the next 5 chapters pack some wallop plot-wise and sex-wise. Colton Langley will take aim at two of Matt’s friends, being thwarted once, but succeeding the next time. In chapter 20 we will say goodbye to a beloved character. For those who were disappointed that Locker Room Rendezvous ended with a sexual cliffhanger, chapter 16 will have a flashback to round out that encounter.
Thanks to all of you who have read each of the chapters!
I want to give special thanks to DevonCowboy, Cane23, and MarcLuciFer for their many comments! I feel like a chapter was a success if I see comments from all three! I want to also thank Ctny62, 62BayAreaSooner, Bidickulous, and Straycatndc for their comments. Those and other feedback fuel my writing, motivating me to stay up ’til past midnight most nights, writing and polishing the next chapters.
Assuming reader interest continues, I will post another note at the end of Chapter 20, the two-thirds mark.
Regards,
JC
***
Matt watched Todd roll a black fishnet stocking over his calf, up his creamy thigh, and clip it to a garter belt. Until now “garter belt” had been a term on the periphery of Matt’s vocabulary, vaguely linked to female guile, uninteresting at best, frightening at worst.
Eyeing the contraption as it emerged from Todd’s travel bag—a limp, tentacled thing riddled with hooks and snaps, Matt wished he had never beheld it. Had he been Catholic, he would have made the sign of the cross. He could not imagine that such a contrivance—even on a guy—would arouse him.
But it did, achingly so.
Matt and Todd were in the Embassy Suites for Paul’s membership interview. Jake and William had arrived a few minutes later. The others should be there soon.
Matt’s ordeal began, ordinarily enough, while he and William sat in the suite’s living area, watching Jake’s and Todd’s wardrobe changes. Correction: Matt watched Jake and Todd. William watched the muted TV (KOCO 5, the local ABC News affiliate. Covering the weather. Weather was almost always the top story in Oklahoma.) William still disagreed with holding this interview.
Jake stripped off the respectable jeans he had worn on his way to this room, shucked out of his underwear, and wriggled, commando-style, into cut-offs that rode low on his hips, high on his downy thighs. The cut-offs were a sexy upgrade to the hemmed shorts he had worn for Matt’s interview. The frayed fringes highlighted Jake’s fine blonde-and-brown hair that, unlike William’s, grew thicker and denser as it neared his sacred grotto.
That got Matt’s blood pumping, erection soon to follow.
Meanwhile, Todd stripped to his underwear, which wasn’t a showstopper on any level. No tantalizing bulge in the front, no muscled glutes in the rear. This was the same Todd who had worn the Mouse mask at Matt’s interview, whom Matt had thought too sweet and innocent to fuck. On the dick meter, plain black thong on a wispy twink barely registered.
Jake donned his blue high tops, began fussing with them, lacing them loosely, teasing out the tongues. Matt had fond memories of those high tops. He’d made Jake keep them on while he fucked him face-down, legs splayed.
Matt’s dick twitched, thickened and stretched a bit—although not enough that William might notice. This was the twelfth day since Matt’s locker room rendezvous with William. William’s hickey had mostly faded, but still required concealer. Matt derived a certain pride from his handiwork.
Todd fished the black, lacey garter belt from his bag, wrapped it around his waist, and hooked it in place. Six elastic straps (three per leg), hung like wind chimes, their metal snaps clacking against Todd’s thighs.
Matt’s dick flat-lined. It would require defibrillation to restore it to life.
Todd slipped into a men’s white dress shirt, fastened all but the top two buttons. The shirttails concealed his ass and groin. The garter’s insectoid straps hung loosely, like parachute cords.
Todd pulled a red necktie over his dark, curly hair, settling it around his neck like a leash.
Still no signs of life in Matt’s crotch.
Out came the fishnet stockings. Separate things, like calf-high socks, if socks could be sexy.
Starting with each foot, Todd unrolled the stocking, following the curve of the arch, the sharp angle of the heel, upward over the little speedbump of his stretched calf, petering out mid-thigh, where the stocking fastened to the garter’s hanging straps.
Todd’s legs sported the merest dusting of hair, as if his body had appropriated all follicles for the mass of dark curls on his head. The few hairs that peeked through the stockings’ netting validated the bearer’s manhood—barely. More would have tipped the scale into farce, like Bing Crosby in drag in White Christmas.
Matt’s cock roared to life. He folded his hands in his lap to hide it.
Matt might have succeeded in concealing his arousal had Todd not added the black stiletto-heeled pumps. That was just cruel.
“Matty, baby,” Jake cooed. He was staring at Matt’s crotch. “What gave you that boner? Sight of my ass? Or Todd’s saloon slut getup?”
Matt felt a hot blush bloom on his cheeks.
Todd laughed, then looked over at Matt’s lap, searching for the boner.
“Never hide your candle,” Todd scolded playfully. “How’s that children’s song go? You know, the one about not hiding your candle under a bushel?”
Jake started singing, holding up a finger to signify a candle. “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine…”
“That’s it!” Todd enthused. He held up his own finger candle, joined Jake in singing. “Hide it under a bushel? No! I’m gonna let it shine…”
Jake and Todd continued singing, repeating the part about not hiding the light, pointing suggestively at Matt’s crotch.
The song reminded Matt of his childhood Sunday Schools, choruses of kids holding their finger candles aloft. There was a certain sacrilege hearing the song sung by two guys, one in fishnet stockings, the other wearing cutoff jeans that barely covered his ass cheeks. Never mind that Jake and Todd were conflating dicks and candles. Matt just hoped they wouldn’t sing the line “Let it shine ’til Jesus comes…”
William ignored the first three iterations of the song, eyes glued to the flickering TV. Finally, he turned to Matt. “Dahling, they’re not going to stop until you follow the song’s advice.”