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Re: I Thought I Knew
It's been almost two years since that day I first saw my best bud Jess talking to the guy I had always thought of as the school fag. Of course, now that fag is my longtime boyfriend Justin, but you know all about that by now.
What you don’t know is all the stuff that has happened since the first part of our story ended. It’s nothing that'll change the world, but it has been interesting. At least for me.
Justin and I have moved to a big city. Not as big as Chicago. It’s on the East Coast. I’m a sophomore at a very good university where I have a full ride. Justin is attending a major art and design school in the same city.
The best part of all is that we finally live together in our own place. It’s not the greatest, but it's better than the dorms. It's just a small shotgun of a house. Plenty big enough for the two of us.
The worst part is that our life isn’t the way I thought it would be. Living with someone, even someone like Justin, is hard sometimes. And sometimes our life has been just plain boring.
I think the life we had in Chicago when we first were together was too good. I mean, it was like living in Cum City. Those first tumultuous months together. Struggling through our relationship with each other. Defining our relationship with each other. And with others. Especially Jess. It had its ups and downs, but the sex was fucking great!
Looking back I can remember the all difficulties and drama. Some days I guess I thought it was all Earth shaking back then. Now it seems almost perfect compared to the struggles of trying to make a relationship work when we’re both trying to study. I have to study to keep my scholarship. And Justin loves his studies. Sometimes I think he loves them too much.
It seems by the time we’re done with classwork, homework, special projects and papers, there’s no time left for us. Some days no time for sex even. And I miss that. I miss the sex. The intensity of it. The freshness of it. The feel and the smell of cocks and cum and Justin and . . . and the attention Justin lavished on me when we were new together.
We’re not new anymore and I miss that. A lot.
H.R. told me to skip pretty much everything else and just start off by telling you about how I met Phil and Todd. Phil goes to Justin’s school and Todd “works,” although we’ve never been sure just what kind of work he does.
I’d heard Justin talk about Phil almost since classes started last fall. He talked a lot about Phil. Maybe too much. There was were days when I knew Justin had spent more time with Phil than with me. And so when he’d come home at last and start talking about Phil this and Phil that . . . Well, it didn’t help matters.
Phil was “a brilliant” photo major, according to Justin. And from his description, he was fucking hot. Like a model. Perfect hair. Perfect teeth. Perfect skin. Perfect smile. And Justin made it quite clear that he also hoped that Phil was perfectly gay. What he planned todo about that he shared with me, too. At least he wasn't hiding his growing attraction for Phil from me. But, somehow, that didn't make me feel any better.
I have to admit, there were days my jealousy led me to believe that Justin knew a lot more about what turned Phil's crank than he was telling me. There were a lot of late nights in the art studio “working on projects.” The two of them. Together. Alone. Late. At Night.
I didn't like it.
That left me a lot of lonely nights at home. Stroking my meat alone late at night. Waiting for Justin to get there. Hoping that it would be one of those nights when that spark between us did flicker and his cum would rain down on me. That I'd taste him. Smell him. Feel his hard cock swelling in my mouth. Feel his pulsing cock pumping cum up my ass. Taste his fresh cum as it dripped down my face the way it had so many times before.
But more and more, it was just wishful thinking.
So, I should get on and tell you about how I finally met Phil. On a night, like so many other nights, Justin came home after another late night in the studio at his school and said Phil, who had been working late, too, had asked if we’d like to go out for dinner and drinks the next night with him and “his friend” Todd.
Justin seemed all excited at the prospect and, I have to admit, as much as I really wanted to spend some quality fuck time with Justin, I was ready to get out and do something. Anything.
So when Justin asked, I said yes. It wasn’t my first choice for an evening. I would have preferred it was with someone other than perfect Phil, but I really wanted to get out.
Of course, I could only hope that when it was over there would still be time and energy left in the two of us to get hard and hot and sweaty. God fucking damn did I want that!
The next night, Justin and I headed to this bar near campus to meet Phil and his “friend” for a drink or two. I’d already had a couple of beers. What the fuck! It was Friday after all. I had a little buzz on, too. I thought I might need it.
When we got there, it was pretty crowded and smoky, but I knew immediately who it was we were going to be with. Over toward the far side from the bar sat the two most perfect looking guys. Models. They looked like fucking models. They weren’t dressed up special or anything. In some ways you could say they looked just like everyone else in the room. Just two college guys out for a night of drinking and whatever with friends. Only these two guys were beautiful. Flawless. Perfect in every way.
And, sure as shit, Justin points at them, waving in the same motion, and says to me, “There they are.” One of the guys, Phil, waved back and we headed over to meet the perfect twosome.
I was feeling pretty intimidated. Not that I looked bad or anything. I had on a great pair of jeans that Justin had picked out for his mom to give me for my Christmas present. They showed off my assets and were pretty hot. But when those two guys stood up to greet us and I saw how they were put together . . . Fuck, they were in a different league. Even Justin, my damn near perfect-looking boyfriend, didn’t look that good. Close! But not quite. Sorry, Justin.
Anyway, we all sat down. Ordered a round of beers. And started into the routine college introduction talk. Where are you from? Major? What do you plan to do? And on and on.
Soon I started to understand why Justin thought, hoped and probably prayed they were gay. They were so hot! I wanted so fucking bad to ask these two guys to whip their dicks out and show me. If their cocks were as perfect as the rest of them, I was gonna have to say screw our rules. They could both fuck me here and now. Cum in my mouth. Cum in my face. Cum up my ass. Double penetration on the bar? OK. They were so fucking hot I think I would have let them do just about anything at that point.
But that was just what was roiling around in my head at that point. I hadn’t had enough sex in the past month to satisfy a fucking rock and just being around two guys who looked so . . . so . . . oh, shit, I was ready.
As my fantasies ran rampant, we kept on talking. And talking. And talking. At some point as we talked and drank more beers, I found I actually was starting to like them. And I started to see reasons, less superficial reasons, why Justin talked about Phil so much. He was a really nice and interesting guy. He wanted to be a magazine photographer. Not so much celebrity. Or fashion. But more news stuff.
Phil had gotten to go to Peru last summer on a grant to take pictures for an archeological dig. I didn’t understand a lot of what he was talking about. Ancient Indians and ruins and stuff. But the way he described that stuff, it sounded neat. Camping out in real wilderness. I mean, he could talk better than Justin and he talked about everything from the bug bites to the well-built native Indian boys who worked at the dig site. He made it seem so real that I just wanted to climb into his sleeping bag with him and scratch his bug bites. And I hadn’t failed to notice the way he talked about those native boys. He seemed to have an obvious appreciation for such things. I was pretty sure Justin had been right. Phil was perfect. And perfectly gay.
Todd on the other hand was harder to read. They certainly hadn’t made it clear whether they were a couple. As a matter of fact, they seemed to work at keeping that a mystery. They did say that they shared an apartment. Apparently a really big two bedroom apartment.
Todd never said anything that seemed to shed any light on their relationship. He told me he was into graphics and print design. He’d met Phil in high school in Washington. They’d been friends there, “but not too close.”
When he said that, I gave him a look that I thought invited him to be more specific. Instead, he went on to talk about something else entirely. Whatever it was, it wasn’t as interesting as the stuff Phil was into.
Of course, before too long Justin and Phil got talking about classes and teachers and their school stuff. That left Todd and me. With little in common.
But as we talked, I started to find I didn’t mind talking to Todd so much. I think we were talking about how we did or didn’t like the city, or something boring like that. And I began to notice that Todd was sitting there in the most provocative pose. He was leaning with his right elbow on the armrest of his chair. So his body was tilted that way. And his left hand was in his lap. Well, let’s be blunt. It was in his fucking crotch. His perfect fucking crotch.
And the way he casually groped himself from time to time reminded me a lot of the way Justin felt free to handle his cock whenever and wherever. Fuck, Todd was playing with himself. Rubbing himself through his jeans. It was just so casual. And yet so erotic.
I kept stealing glances at his crotch, expecting to find him sporting the perfect hard-on. But he didn’t seem to be getting hard. His hand-to-crotch action didn’t really seem to be particularly sexual to him. More just what he did when he talked. It sure as hell was sexual to me. Even though I was pretty certain that his groping actions weren’t directed at me. Weren’t for my pleasure. It was like he didn’t think anyone could see him. Fuck, I wasn’t even sure if he even realized he was doing it.
I could see his nice sized cock outlined in denim sometimes. Well proportioned, as it seemed to be, it wasn’t getting bigger as he absentmindedly toyed with it.
But if his cock wasn’t getting hard, mine was. And I figured if he could play with his, I could play with mine. So I did. It wasn’t too long before I saw him take notice. Now he was stealing glances at my cock, the same way I was stealing glances at his. I loved it. He had to be one of us.
Now that I’d figured that out, my hard cock was showing in my jeans big time. And Todd’s was starting to show, too. Both of us were being pretty fucking obvious. It was about time as far as I was concerned.
Todd and I were still carrying on our innocuous conversation. But it was becoming more intermittent as we spent more and more time staring at each other’s growing cocks and less time talking. As the things Todd and I had to talk about dwindled, Justin and Phil were gabbing away, oblivious to the two of us.
Finally I realized Todd and I had both been silent for too long. I had just been sitting there watching Todd rubbing the fingers of his left hand back and forth across his very impressive cock as it strained against the thin, soft denim fabric. Obviously aching to be freed from his fucking hot, very low-rise designer jeans. What a bulge! It was perfect, of course.
I looked up and must have caught him as he was looking up from staring at my crotch. We stared into each other’s eyes for a second and then we each looked down into our own lap. I know I was checking to see what I was showing. What he was seeing. I suppose he was doing the same.
My glance down at myself revealed that I was showing my big hard-on with a big wet spot where my eight inches of solid, hard, hot cock was leaking like fucking crazy.
A little embarrassed, since I didn’t really even know this guy, I looked back up and found myself staring directly into his eyes again. His perfect eyes. It was sort of a hypnotic moment. Both of us . . . each of us . . . caught in that stare.
And then he leaned toward me and said in a very quiet, but very deliberate voice, “I could sit here and watch you until you cum in those jeans. You are so, so hot and sexy.”
A chill ran through me. I felt like . . . embarrassed. Flattered. Horny as fucking hell. All at the same time. And then just as fast, I think I blushed. It felt like I blushed. My face was hot and I was about to break out in a sweat.
I was at a complete loss for words to respond. Finally, like an idiot I just said, “Thanks.” And then realizing how lame that sounded, I added, “I could watch, too.”
He gave me a quizzical look and then a big smile. At first I wasn’t sure why the quizzical look and then . . . it came to me. “I mean I could sit here and watch you cum. Not me cum. I meant . . .”
He cut me off. “I understand. Completely.”
We sat silently for a minute and then Todd said, again in a quiet voice neither Justin nor Phil would hear, “Ask Phil to tell you about his private art project. It’s something special. I think a man with your interests would appreciate it.”
I was about to ask Todd to explain, when Phil turned toward us and suggested we go someplace else to eat. After finishing our latest round of beers, we were off to get some pizza.
At the restaurant, I couldn’t get Todd’s comment about Phil’s “private art project” out of my mind. The way he’d said it, it made my cock feel a surge of energy every time I thought about it. I don’t know why, but I was pretty sure that project was something I’d want to see. And appreciate. Finally the conversation over dinner hit a lull and I saw my chance.
“Todd was about to tell me about your art project when . . .”
“Your special art project,” Todd said to Phil, interrupting me. Correcting me.
Phil looked at Todd with an inquiring gaze. I saw Todd nod to him, almost imperceptibly “You think it might interest them?” Phil asked Todd.
“Oh, it will interest them,” Todd said. “I think you don’t have to worry about that part.”
“Then maybe rather than tell you about it, I should show you. We can go back to our place when we’re done here if you like,” Phil said.
To be continued . . .
I hope you like this newest part of the project. I'll post the next chapter as soon as it's ready. You're comments, encouragement and critiques are always welcome. So don't forget to leave them.
Until next time, stay happy. And stay hard!
I Thought I Knew -- Book Two
The Further Adventures of Justin & Billy
Chapter 1
From Billy's viewpoint
The Further Adventures of Justin & Billy
Chapter 1
From Billy's viewpoint
It's been almost two years since that day I first saw my best bud Jess talking to the guy I had always thought of as the school fag. Of course, now that fag is my longtime boyfriend Justin, but you know all about that by now.
What you don’t know is all the stuff that has happened since the first part of our story ended. It’s nothing that'll change the world, but it has been interesting. At least for me.
Justin and I have moved to a big city. Not as big as Chicago. It’s on the East Coast. I’m a sophomore at a very good university where I have a full ride. Justin is attending a major art and design school in the same city.
The best part of all is that we finally live together in our own place. It’s not the greatest, but it's better than the dorms. It's just a small shotgun of a house. Plenty big enough for the two of us.
The worst part is that our life isn’t the way I thought it would be. Living with someone, even someone like Justin, is hard sometimes. And sometimes our life has been just plain boring.
I think the life we had in Chicago when we first were together was too good. I mean, it was like living in Cum City. Those first tumultuous months together. Struggling through our relationship with each other. Defining our relationship with each other. And with others. Especially Jess. It had its ups and downs, but the sex was fucking great!
Looking back I can remember the all difficulties and drama. Some days I guess I thought it was all Earth shaking back then. Now it seems almost perfect compared to the struggles of trying to make a relationship work when we’re both trying to study. I have to study to keep my scholarship. And Justin loves his studies. Sometimes I think he loves them too much.
It seems by the time we’re done with classwork, homework, special projects and papers, there’s no time left for us. Some days no time for sex even. And I miss that. I miss the sex. The intensity of it. The freshness of it. The feel and the smell of cocks and cum and Justin and . . . and the attention Justin lavished on me when we were new together.
We’re not new anymore and I miss that. A lot.
H.R. told me to skip pretty much everything else and just start off by telling you about how I met Phil and Todd. Phil goes to Justin’s school and Todd “works,” although we’ve never been sure just what kind of work he does.
I’d heard Justin talk about Phil almost since classes started last fall. He talked a lot about Phil. Maybe too much. There was were days when I knew Justin had spent more time with Phil than with me. And so when he’d come home at last and start talking about Phil this and Phil that . . . Well, it didn’t help matters.
Phil was “a brilliant” photo major, according to Justin. And from his description, he was fucking hot. Like a model. Perfect hair. Perfect teeth. Perfect skin. Perfect smile. And Justin made it quite clear that he also hoped that Phil was perfectly gay. What he planned todo about that he shared with me, too. At least he wasn't hiding his growing attraction for Phil from me. But, somehow, that didn't make me feel any better.
I have to admit, there were days my jealousy led me to believe that Justin knew a lot more about what turned Phil's crank than he was telling me. There were a lot of late nights in the art studio “working on projects.” The two of them. Together. Alone. Late. At Night.
I didn't like it.
That left me a lot of lonely nights at home. Stroking my meat alone late at night. Waiting for Justin to get there. Hoping that it would be one of those nights when that spark between us did flicker and his cum would rain down on me. That I'd taste him. Smell him. Feel his hard cock swelling in my mouth. Feel his pulsing cock pumping cum up my ass. Taste his fresh cum as it dripped down my face the way it had so many times before.
But more and more, it was just wishful thinking.
So, I should get on and tell you about how I finally met Phil. On a night, like so many other nights, Justin came home after another late night in the studio at his school and said Phil, who had been working late, too, had asked if we’d like to go out for dinner and drinks the next night with him and “his friend” Todd.
Justin seemed all excited at the prospect and, I have to admit, as much as I really wanted to spend some quality fuck time with Justin, I was ready to get out and do something. Anything.
So when Justin asked, I said yes. It wasn’t my first choice for an evening. I would have preferred it was with someone other than perfect Phil, but I really wanted to get out.
Of course, I could only hope that when it was over there would still be time and energy left in the two of us to get hard and hot and sweaty. God fucking damn did I want that!
The next night, Justin and I headed to this bar near campus to meet Phil and his “friend” for a drink or two. I’d already had a couple of beers. What the fuck! It was Friday after all. I had a little buzz on, too. I thought I might need it.
When we got there, it was pretty crowded and smoky, but I knew immediately who it was we were going to be with. Over toward the far side from the bar sat the two most perfect looking guys. Models. They looked like fucking models. They weren’t dressed up special or anything. In some ways you could say they looked just like everyone else in the room. Just two college guys out for a night of drinking and whatever with friends. Only these two guys were beautiful. Flawless. Perfect in every way.
And, sure as shit, Justin points at them, waving in the same motion, and says to me, “There they are.” One of the guys, Phil, waved back and we headed over to meet the perfect twosome.
I was feeling pretty intimidated. Not that I looked bad or anything. I had on a great pair of jeans that Justin had picked out for his mom to give me for my Christmas present. They showed off my assets and were pretty hot. But when those two guys stood up to greet us and I saw how they were put together . . . Fuck, they were in a different league. Even Justin, my damn near perfect-looking boyfriend, didn’t look that good. Close! But not quite. Sorry, Justin.
Anyway, we all sat down. Ordered a round of beers. And started into the routine college introduction talk. Where are you from? Major? What do you plan to do? And on and on.
Soon I started to understand why Justin thought, hoped and probably prayed they were gay. They were so hot! I wanted so fucking bad to ask these two guys to whip their dicks out and show me. If their cocks were as perfect as the rest of them, I was gonna have to say screw our rules. They could both fuck me here and now. Cum in my mouth. Cum in my face. Cum up my ass. Double penetration on the bar? OK. They were so fucking hot I think I would have let them do just about anything at that point.
But that was just what was roiling around in my head at that point. I hadn’t had enough sex in the past month to satisfy a fucking rock and just being around two guys who looked so . . . so . . . oh, shit, I was ready.
As my fantasies ran rampant, we kept on talking. And talking. And talking. At some point as we talked and drank more beers, I found I actually was starting to like them. And I started to see reasons, less superficial reasons, why Justin talked about Phil so much. He was a really nice and interesting guy. He wanted to be a magazine photographer. Not so much celebrity. Or fashion. But more news stuff.
Phil had gotten to go to Peru last summer on a grant to take pictures for an archeological dig. I didn’t understand a lot of what he was talking about. Ancient Indians and ruins and stuff. But the way he described that stuff, it sounded neat. Camping out in real wilderness. I mean, he could talk better than Justin and he talked about everything from the bug bites to the well-built native Indian boys who worked at the dig site. He made it seem so real that I just wanted to climb into his sleeping bag with him and scratch his bug bites. And I hadn’t failed to notice the way he talked about those native boys. He seemed to have an obvious appreciation for such things. I was pretty sure Justin had been right. Phil was perfect. And perfectly gay.
Todd on the other hand was harder to read. They certainly hadn’t made it clear whether they were a couple. As a matter of fact, they seemed to work at keeping that a mystery. They did say that they shared an apartment. Apparently a really big two bedroom apartment.
Todd never said anything that seemed to shed any light on their relationship. He told me he was into graphics and print design. He’d met Phil in high school in Washington. They’d been friends there, “but not too close.”
When he said that, I gave him a look that I thought invited him to be more specific. Instead, he went on to talk about something else entirely. Whatever it was, it wasn’t as interesting as the stuff Phil was into.
Of course, before too long Justin and Phil got talking about classes and teachers and their school stuff. That left Todd and me. With little in common.
But as we talked, I started to find I didn’t mind talking to Todd so much. I think we were talking about how we did or didn’t like the city, or something boring like that. And I began to notice that Todd was sitting there in the most provocative pose. He was leaning with his right elbow on the armrest of his chair. So his body was tilted that way. And his left hand was in his lap. Well, let’s be blunt. It was in his fucking crotch. His perfect fucking crotch.
And the way he casually groped himself from time to time reminded me a lot of the way Justin felt free to handle his cock whenever and wherever. Fuck, Todd was playing with himself. Rubbing himself through his jeans. It was just so casual. And yet so erotic.
I kept stealing glances at his crotch, expecting to find him sporting the perfect hard-on. But he didn’t seem to be getting hard. His hand-to-crotch action didn’t really seem to be particularly sexual to him. More just what he did when he talked. It sure as hell was sexual to me. Even though I was pretty certain that his groping actions weren’t directed at me. Weren’t for my pleasure. It was like he didn’t think anyone could see him. Fuck, I wasn’t even sure if he even realized he was doing it.
I could see his nice sized cock outlined in denim sometimes. Well proportioned, as it seemed to be, it wasn’t getting bigger as he absentmindedly toyed with it.
But if his cock wasn’t getting hard, mine was. And I figured if he could play with his, I could play with mine. So I did. It wasn’t too long before I saw him take notice. Now he was stealing glances at my cock, the same way I was stealing glances at his. I loved it. He had to be one of us.
Now that I’d figured that out, my hard cock was showing in my jeans big time. And Todd’s was starting to show, too. Both of us were being pretty fucking obvious. It was about time as far as I was concerned.
Todd and I were still carrying on our innocuous conversation. But it was becoming more intermittent as we spent more and more time staring at each other’s growing cocks and less time talking. As the things Todd and I had to talk about dwindled, Justin and Phil were gabbing away, oblivious to the two of us.
Finally I realized Todd and I had both been silent for too long. I had just been sitting there watching Todd rubbing the fingers of his left hand back and forth across his very impressive cock as it strained against the thin, soft denim fabric. Obviously aching to be freed from his fucking hot, very low-rise designer jeans. What a bulge! It was perfect, of course.
I looked up and must have caught him as he was looking up from staring at my crotch. We stared into each other’s eyes for a second and then we each looked down into our own lap. I know I was checking to see what I was showing. What he was seeing. I suppose he was doing the same.
My glance down at myself revealed that I was showing my big hard-on with a big wet spot where my eight inches of solid, hard, hot cock was leaking like fucking crazy.
A little embarrassed, since I didn’t really even know this guy, I looked back up and found myself staring directly into his eyes again. His perfect eyes. It was sort of a hypnotic moment. Both of us . . . each of us . . . caught in that stare.
And then he leaned toward me and said in a very quiet, but very deliberate voice, “I could sit here and watch you until you cum in those jeans. You are so, so hot and sexy.”
A chill ran through me. I felt like . . . embarrassed. Flattered. Horny as fucking hell. All at the same time. And then just as fast, I think I blushed. It felt like I blushed. My face was hot and I was about to break out in a sweat.
I was at a complete loss for words to respond. Finally, like an idiot I just said, “Thanks.” And then realizing how lame that sounded, I added, “I could watch, too.”
He gave me a quizzical look and then a big smile. At first I wasn’t sure why the quizzical look and then . . . it came to me. “I mean I could sit here and watch you cum. Not me cum. I meant . . .”
He cut me off. “I understand. Completely.”
We sat silently for a minute and then Todd said, again in a quiet voice neither Justin nor Phil would hear, “Ask Phil to tell you about his private art project. It’s something special. I think a man with your interests would appreciate it.”
I was about to ask Todd to explain, when Phil turned toward us and suggested we go someplace else to eat. After finishing our latest round of beers, we were off to get some pizza.
At the restaurant, I couldn’t get Todd’s comment about Phil’s “private art project” out of my mind. The way he’d said it, it made my cock feel a surge of energy every time I thought about it. I don’t know why, but I was pretty sure that project was something I’d want to see. And appreciate. Finally the conversation over dinner hit a lull and I saw my chance.
“Todd was about to tell me about your art project when . . .”
“Your special art project,” Todd said to Phil, interrupting me. Correcting me.
Phil looked at Todd with an inquiring gaze. I saw Todd nod to him, almost imperceptibly “You think it might interest them?” Phil asked Todd.
“Oh, it will interest them,” Todd said. “I think you don’t have to worry about that part.”
“Then maybe rather than tell you about it, I should show you. We can go back to our place when we’re done here if you like,” Phil said.
To be continued . . .
I hope you like this newest part of the project. I'll post the next chapter as soon as it's ready. You're comments, encouragement and critiques are always welcome. So don't forget to leave them.
Until next time, stay happy. And stay hard!


























