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Who woulda thunk it?

G

gogetter

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Hey, guys, I'm Mark. I'm starting college, and I'm a virgin. Crazy, huh? Oh, and more importantly for this story, I guess, I'm also gay. Now if I were reading this, I'd be thinkin', "didn't know there were any 18-year-old virgins left in the world."

Which is exactly what I think to myself every day. I mean, what the fuck?! You get online, surf the net a little, and every other fag in the world seems to have had at least a blow job by the age of twelve. Exaggeration, I know, but what the hell is wrong with me? Where's my gaydar? Where's their gaydar? Just don't seem right, somehow.

What's that? Oh, him. He's Matt. He's my assigned roommate in the dorms this semester. Pretty hot, huh? Unfortunately for me, the fifty four million pictures of his girlfriend covering his side of the room put him out of the picture. Maybe he's got hot friends.

So here I am, three thousand miles from home, thinking about gettin' laid. Hell, that's mighty fuckin' optimistic, ain't it? I probably ought to settle for a kiss, just to get my love life started. That's right. Never even been kissed, unless you count the peck on the cheek I got from my senior prom date, a fellow nerd who also didn't want to miss senior prom.

Yep, I'm a nerd. Love to read, computer geek, damn near helpless at sports- you get the picture. The ONLY thing in my favor is, at least, I don't really look like your typical dweeb. One thing I've learned on the 'net, us fags like to look at the hotties. Hell, so does everybody, I guess, but I got enough sense to know I'll get more attention by paying attention to myself.

So I ditched the glasses my junior year, in favor of colored contacts (several colors, whichever I'm in the mood for), and started running. At least I've got enough coordination for that, and I can try to stave off the couch potato/computer desk buildup of flab. I'm 6' 2" tall, with short brown hair, and I go to the fake 'n' bake so my normal pasty white is kept to a nice, even tan (all over!) I may not be a hottie, but at least nobody's tryin' to put a bag over my head when they see me.

Matt, on the other hand, IS most definitely a hottie. Just look at him. Square jaw, black hair just touching his collar, well-defined muscles, and those damn dimples- Damn! Never had a zit in his life, I'll bet. Yeah, I know he's little. He claims 5'5", 125 pounds. I guess the weight is right, since he's on the wrestling team and they gotta be fairly precise with that, but the height is probably stretchin' it a bit (no pun intended). I've discovered that he's a little touchy about the subject, so I generally just leave it alone.

Anyways, back to the story. Bein' a nerd is, of course, not the only reason I'm still a virgin at my advanced age. I'm also ridiculously shy, and hate to go to parties- not exactly your typical teenager. And, as probably goes without saying, I left my hometown still deeply in the proverbial closet. One of the reasons I've gone to school so far away from home, besides the full scholarship, is to become more comfortable in jumping out of that closet. That's what I'm tellin' myself, anyways.

END CHAPTER ONE
 
Nice start. Looking forward to more chapters. ;)
 
Cool comment, sidekick; made me want to put fingers to keyboard right away. I've just finished a root canal (having one, not performing one) and I'm a little loopy still, but I'm gonna work on chapter two anyway- perhaps a little slower than normal. Thanks for all ya'll's support on the stories.
 
So here we are, about six weeks into the first semester and school is going pretty well. I'm taking fifteen hours, and none of my classes are what you would call a struggle to get through, except biology- I hate biology. The professor is Indian, I think, or Pakistani, and I can't understand a word he says, plus it's just a subject I have no interest in whatsoever. I breezed through it in high school, but so did everyone at my school- multiple choice tests and a good grading curve saw to that.

Biology is why I'm burning the midnight oil tonight, cause we've got a big test tomorrow at 10 am. I say we, 'cause that's the one class Matt and I share this semester. Where's he, you say?

Damn good question! We were supposed to study together, but I came back to the room tonight to find every one of his girlfriend's pictures ripped off the wall, and Matt nowhere to be found. I tried to text him, but no luck, and he's not answering the phone, either.

Speaking of Matt, we've actually been gettin' along great. He's a cool guy, and he's managed to pull me outa my shell little by little, even draggin' me to a couple of parties. 'Course, I usually just stand in a corner nursin' a beer, but it's a start- baby steps. Matt's not much of a drinker- says he hates beer- but he can still be the life of the party, with his manic energy and infectious grin.

I know, you're thinkin' I've got a crush on this guy. You're right! But he doesn't know, because despite my best intentions, I'm still hangin' out here with the winter coats and wire hangers. I've seen a couple of flyers around campus about gay and lesbian groups meeting, but I haven't worked up the nerve to go yet.

Well, it's one in the morning, and if I don't know it yet I ain't gonna. Just as I put the books on the floor, I hear my phone telling me I've got a message. It's Matt:

"Come get me- Kappa Sig house"

I had told him before if he ever needed a ride, to call me, but I hadn't expected him to need a ride from that close- it's just across the east campus. I texted him back and said I was on the way.

There he is, with his back against an oak tree in the yard and his chin on his chest. Even like that, he looks adorable. He ignores the beep of the horn, so I hop out and yell at him to come on. Nothing!

I walk over, and see he's passed out cold, and reeks of beer and, I think, vomit. Well, shit! I shake him, then shake him harder. All he does is fall over. Good thing he's a lightweight, like I said before, so I bend and sling him over my shoulder in a fireman's carry, and dump him in the back seat. In a few minutes, we're back at the dorm room.

When I go to drag him out, guess what? The sonofabitch has pissed himself, and I gotta carry him! I know he's hot as fuck, but c'mon, man! Thank God we're in a corner room on the ground floor, so maybe I can get him in the side entrance without too many questions.

Nobody's around, so I rush in and dump him on his back on his bed. But I can't leave him like that, can I? I try again to rouse him, but no luck.

Now you're thinkin' that this is a great opportunity to see him naked, and it is. Even though we've been roommates for several weeks now, I still haven't seen the goods- he's pretty shy about that sort of thing, and so am I, so about the best I 've seen is those awesome abs.

I feel like a perv just thinkin' about gettin' his clothes off. I been dreaming about him naked, but this isn't the way it's supposed to happen. Still, I know I wouldn't want to lie in MY own piss, and I gotta believe he won't want to, either.

The shirt's easy enough, and his khaki shorts slide right off. I'm guessin' he was wearing his flip flops earlier, but he was barefoot when I picked him up. So, that leaves only the underwear.

My hands are shakin' as I reach for his tight boxer briefs, 'cause what if he suddenly wakes up and freaks out at his perv roommate strippin' him? I don't know why that worries me, though, he's fuckin' dead to the world here, so I reach again.

My damn dick is strainin' at my boxers, which seems a little kinky given the circumstances, but what're you gonna do? I grasp his waistband and slowly peel his briefs down his legs and over his feet.

In a fantasy story, his magnificent flaccid cock would've flopped out halfway to his knee, but this is real life. It actually looks kinda small, nesting there in his pubes, but it's still turning me on like you wouldn't believe. I yank my own cock outta my shorts, and a minute and half later...

I dash down the hall with a washcloth for both of us. I come back and clean myself up, puttin' on some clean boxers, and turn to Matt. He, of course, hasn't moved, and doesn't as I give him a quick swipe or two with the washcloth.

Quick? Who am I kiddin'? My full perv has taken over, and I slowly run the cloth over his groin, lifting his dick to thoroughly clean it and his balls. Now I'm horny all over again, but with a masterful effort of will I turn away. I grab a pair of his basketball shorts off the floor and slide 'em up his legs and into place. I can't resist one last look, however, and a quick touch, before returning to my own bed to rub one out again.

Six-thirty in the morning, and I'm awakened by a soft whimpering from across the room. I sit up, and I can see Matt rocking gently back and forth as he lies on his bed, close to the wall, with his back towards me. I get up and cross over to touch him lightly on the shoulder. His eyes are closed, and he doesn't respond, still lost in his dream, but I can see tears leaking out from the corners of his eyes.

Without stopping to think, I lay down beside him in spoon-fashion and circle my left arm around his chest. His shaking eases, and he gradually resumes breathing evenly. Curled up against his warmth feels so right, and I drift off to sleep again myself.
 
OK, Gogetter,

This one has us all on edge. Don't delay too long in the continuation... There's something about college dorm partners...lol

Craiger
 
So the alarm is going off, it's nine in the morning, and I wake up in my roommate's bed with no roommate in sight. We've got class in an hour, which ain't gonna be enough time to explain to him why I was in his bed with him AND to endure the subsequent ass-kickin'.

I grab my clothes and towel and head down the hall to the showers. One other guy is in there, behind his curtain, and I try to sneak a peek but the curtain's pulled all the way across. I step into my own shower, and think about Matt while I thoroughly soap myself down (if you know what I mean!).

Twenty minutes later, well-refreshed (!), I pull back the curtain to discover my towel and clothes gone. Fuck!

I peek out the bathroom door. Nobody in sight, so I hightail it down to my room, ass in the wind and shielding the goods with my shampoo bottle. I fling open the door of my room, dash in, and slam it behind me, turning to find Matt with a smirk on his face and my towel in his hand. Gulp!

"So, you wanna explain what went on last night, Mark?"

Where to start? Does he remember anything? At all?

He holds up his hand. "Wait, let me tell you what I know. I woke up, with you in my bed with me, and wearing different clothes than I went out in and with no underwear on. The stuff I was wearing is balled up on the floor smelling like piss, and my fuckin' head is killin' me. Now, the big question is, since it appears I pissed myself, did I change my own clothes or did you do it for me?"

I reach for my towel, but he pulls it back. "Nuh-uh, not 'til I hear the answer."

I give him a quick rundown of events, up to the changing of the clothes, while trying to stay hidden behind my shampoo. He nods as I finish up.

"So, you've seen me naked, huh? And you've touched The Piston?"

I start to nod, then pause at the second question. "The Piston?"

"What, you don't have a nickname for yours?"

"Never thought about namin' it."

"Well, you should. Every self-respecting guy has a name for his dick. Speaking of which, since you've seen mine, it only seems fair I should see yours. So quit hidin' and let's see the little thing."

What the fuck! My straight roommate, who's girlfriend apparently just dumped him, now wants to see me naked! This can't be happening!

I pretend to give in, then lunge for my towel. I'm twice his size, so no contest, right? Four seconds later, my arm is pinned under me, my shampoo bottle is on the floor, and I'm flat on my back on the bed, exposed to the world. Matt glances down, and I see his eyes widen.

"Holy shit, Mark, how could you not name something that size?!"

He continues to stare, and I wriggle in embarassment. I gotta say, I'm hung better than most, about six and a half inches soft, but it only grows another inch or so when I get hard, though it does get thicker. Still, I don't normally wave it around for everybody to see. I take advantage of his slackness to buck him off and grab my towel, glancing at the clock.

"Jeez, Matt, we gotta go! Class is in fifteen minutes," I say, turning my back to him to slip on my boxers under my towel.

"I can't go, Mark, I ain't studied a bit. Tell the prof I'm sick, and maybe I can make it up another day. 'Sides, I'm too bummed to go to class today," he says, and I can see his face fall as he thinks about yesterday.

"Alright, but we got a lot to talk about when I get back." I grab my backpack and head out the door.
 
Goodness, Gogetter, you are prolific...lol All these great stories. Me thinks you have done a bit of studying in your "spare" time...lol

Craiger
 
Decent start, gogetter. Now I have to remember your name and look for the rest.
 
My apologies to all for temporarily abandoning this story- I will update this weekend. To bjboy, I am especially sorry, since this is one of the few stories you can't wait to read. I'll try to make it worthwhile!
 
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