A gay sex stories: Varsity Low Ch. 04 Taking it all the right way
Keeping it in the back
Taking it all the right way
Never no turning back
Never never no turning back
David Bowie —- Right
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I was back from Richmond and on campus a few days before the new semester started. The Bean House was our coffee spot just off campus. It was usually a seething nest of hipster wannabes and coffee achievers all spinning their bullshit and executing to plan. The Bean was now blissfully quiet, if not for long. Cafe Americano, barely lightened with skim milk, the same way Griffin took his coffee. I settled in by the windows, left the laptop in my bag, wanting only to sip coffee, people watch and just zone out.
Christmas at dad and Vera’s impressive spread in Windsor Farms was always like being on stage. My stepmother was a tireless socialite and she hosted cocktails, dinners, gatherings, open houses thru New Years Day. Her holiday decorations were always ordered up to tastefully enhance the fiercely renovated 1930’s five bay Georgian that we called home. The days dragged after New Years, the holiday frenzy over with, and I was glad to get back to campus early.
They had been very generous with me at Christmas. I returned to campus driving a new VW GTI, four doors and sunroof in gunmetal gray with the classic GTI cloth seats of red and gray plaid. Vera said the seats “evoked vintage automobile lap robes.” Ok then. It was voodoo the way she always knew exactly what to buy. In short, I totally loved the GTI, and Vera was pleased yet again with her vast power to bring pleasure with a gift.
The Bean door opened and in walked Anders. I had not seen him since our hot threesome at Griff’s off campus digs. The strawberry blondness was shaggier, longer on the nape, sideburns lower, heavier blond scruff. He wore a hunter green fleece, oversized, but still not concealing his muscular build. Varsity wrestler. Damn the Gods he was hot.
I was immobilized by his male awesomeness, and the fact I had been rimmed by him, had his cock in my mouth, and he had licked Griffin’s cum off my ass. He was busy ordering at the counter, and did not see me. Please, Lord, don’t let that be a ‘go’ order.
He saw me and flashed his killer boyish smile. Cool, cool, be cool. I pointed downward with two fingers to the empty chair at my table, and he came over with a big mug and sat down.
“Damn Trav, you’re back on campus early, lucky me. Good to see you. And without Griffin.” Sardonic grin over the rim of his mug.
“Fuck around Anders, it is great to see you back early. The family manse got kinda’ quiet after New Years, so I came back up.”
“Get some good shit for Christmas?” he asked.
“Hell yeah. They sprang for a new car. VW GTI. Very cool, I love it.”
He whistled like a bomb dropping. “Damn. Well done Trav. I come back early to meet with Financial Aid and you come back to show off some new wheels.”
“Thanks. Everything cool with Financial Aid?” I asked, eyebrows up, looking at him over the rim of my mug.
“I guess so, I meet with them tomorrow. I’ve just moved into my new dorm room. I got a single in Lambeth Hall.”
“Nice. Those rooms are hard to come by.”
“Yeah, coach made a call.” He shrugged, like a school boy.
“Thank you for being honest. Little that happens here is fair, while everyone pretends that it all is.” I vented. “You deserve the room. Enjoy it. I am back in the apartment pod with the Korean twins again.”
“I get it, Trav. But I can close that door behind me, and have complete privacy. It also means that we have a place to hang out. Without Griff.” His green eyed male gaze was upon me, cool and confident; an ask wrapped in a certainty.
“Yeah, ok, that is true.” The threesome with Griff was fun for all, now Anders was was clearly interested in one-on-one with me. The game had shifted, and I swam in a hot heaving sea of lust, confusion, joy, pride.
The quarter zip on his fleece was all the down, giving me a perfect ‘V’ of the thick, tousled rug of dark blond fur on his chest. “I would like to see that room.” I said evenly, my gaze locked with his.
“When?” He leaned back in his chair, muscled arms crossed over muscled chest and gave me his best blond boy puppy dog look, one that probably got him whatever he wanted.
“How ’bout right now?” I quickly abandoned all my afternoon plans, and gave him my blue eyed male gaze direct, frank, unblinking, a move I had learned from Griff.
“Good answer, Mr. Ravenel. I do believe we are on the same page regarding this matter. I will get us some ‘go’ cups for this insanely expensive coffee.” He went to the counter for the cups, dark gray sweatpants making a symphony of his beefy ass. My good fortune had me grinning like an idiot. Wordlessly he transferred our coffee to the tall cups. big competent hands at his task. We fled The Bean, out into the gray damp cold, two undergrads with coffee and backpacks.
We walked in comfortable silence, the campus mostly deserted. The back of his hand touched mine, casual yet with intention, and I felt his heat and power thru that innocent touch. “So, where did you go for the holidays?” I asked.
“I was at my grandparent’s farm in Indiana. Outside of Culver, up state. I love it there. The farm is home; my grandparents raised me. My parents both died while I was in middle school and I went from Northbrook, near Chicago, to the farm. I started working out, got noticed by the coaches, got into sports. You would like the farm; the house dates from the 1840’s, there is a big wide front porch, you can hear Whip-poor-Wills at dawn. You southern boys do like your porches.” He gave me a knowing look, I flashed on a future scene of putting Anders in the GTI and pointing it west, towards Culver, speeding past green fields of prosperous soybeans and tall corn.
“We do like our porches. The farm sounds awesome. Sorry about your parents, that must have been tough.” I said.
“Yeah. It was bad, real bad. I will tell you about it sometime. But not today. I am too happy for all that right now.” He grazed my hand again, and I put an arm over his wide shoulders, pulled him close, so we both stumbled, laughed, parted.
“OK, Cool. When ever you want to talk, I am all the way there.” His green eyes were shining and wet, and I was dumbstruck by the quietly reserved beauty of his vulnerability.
Lambeth Hall was the oldest dorm on campus, brick, slate roof, double wide sash windows in all the rooms. Anders’ room was on the third floor, a rectangle of white plaster, blond wood floors. His double windows looked out into the thinning branches of an ancient fir three, giving a feeling of being hidden in a secret tree house, the uncovered windows intentionally fostering this illusion. Tidy desk. Twin bed with a blue and brown plaid flannel comforter. Vintage leather easy chair. There was a spareness to this space, monastic, clean, window oriented, like an Andrew Wyeth painting. The effect was clean-cut and wholesome, in sharp contrast to the louche sluttiness of Griff’s cannabis infused flat, with his dumpster sofa and endlessly fucked upon futon.