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    JLynch
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

All My Dreams Pass Before My Eyes - 22. Chapter 22 WTF!

When they got into the car, Randy turned to Carey, “So, what did you think?”

Carey replied with a laugh, “Man! Drain is a trip!”

Randy swiveled in his seat toward Carey.

“Honestly, what did you think?”

Carey took a breath.

“Well…I thought it was kind of boring.”

Randy smirked.

“Yeah well…that scene is sort of…an acquired taste.”

Carey laughed.

“Scene?!?” Pausing for a second, “So, how did you ever end up hanging out with Drain?”

Randy smirked again as he put the car in motion.

“So, I met him in a chat room.”

Randy held the back of his hand up to his mouth as he laughed.

“Wha-a-t?” Carey said in his falsetto fake horror voice.

“Yeah, he was pretending to be a girl.”

Randy glanced over to see Carey staring at him.

“I knew he was a guy in, like, a minute and a half. I let him go on for a couple of days before I called bullshit.”

Carey laughed and shook his head.

“He has a thing for straight boys,” Randy said. Then a bit more quietly, “Or, he thinks are straight.”

Neither spoke for a couple of minutes. Wheels were turning and not just the ones under the car.

“Hey! Do you wanna come over for a bit? We can listen to some real music. My sound system is no match for Drain’s but it ain’t bad.”

Carey nodded.

“Well…ok.”

The Bergman house was in the nicest neighborhood in town. Large deep lawns, McMansions, and stately older homes. The house they drove up to was one of the more unassuming ones on the block. Randy parked in the driveway and led Carey through the side garage door into an inside back door which, in turn, led through a mud room to the kitchen.

It was immediately obvious to Carey that, although the house appeared relatively modest, it was luxuriously appointed. The kitchen was lined in rich mahogany cabinets and filled with ultra high end Wolf appliances. A double sink and a separate bar sink were set into marble countertops. Carey glimpsed an elegantly furnished living room and great room as Randy led the way to his bedroom.

Randy’s room was relatively simple and, like the rest of the house, filled with upscale furnishings. The bed was fitted out with a rich looking coverlet and layers of pillows like a picture in a catalog. The walls were nicely decorated with contemporary prints, one on each wall. The room was amazingly neat; no clutter at all. A long narrow table against the wall opposite the bed held several expensive looking pieces of sound equipment and two speakers.

“Ever hear of AJR?” Randy asked.

“Nope.”

“My current fave. They’ve got an interesting sound. Ok if I play some of it?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Taking a vinyl album out of a narrow rack, Randy let the disc slip out of the cover into the edges of his fingers. He flipped it onto the turntable, pushed a couple of buttons and watched the arm swing over the vinyl.

When he turned back to face him, Carey was surprised to see that Randy’s shirt was completely unbuttoned. He’d entirely missed that.

“C’mon, it sounds best from over here,” as he flopped down on the left side of the bed.

Going to the other side and kicking his shoes off, Carey laid down next to him.

The first track they listened to was “Bang,” the title song of the album. Carey really liked it. A sophisticated mix of rock and jazz using a variety of instruments and fully orchestrated.

As they lay on their backs letting the music wash over them, Carey had a sudden inclination to turn on his right side to look at Randy. He again admired his handsome haircut, his full dark eyebrows, amazing blue eyes, and perfectly shaped pale lips From there, his eyes gazed down at his thin neck. And now, he could see the hint of a smooth, lightly tanned chest.

Randy let out a long breath. He turned on his left side to look at Carey as he took his right hand and swept the hair out of his eyes. Even without a smile, they seemed to twinkle as he stared expressionless into Carey’s eyes. The music played on but seemed to fade away.

“So, how do you like showing off your many attractive features?”

Carey felt himself getting red, his respiration quickening.

“You know about all that?”

Randy smirked as he jumped off the bed. He opened the top drawer to his dresser bringing out a book. He quickly plopped himself back on the bed.

It was…the book.

“Oh.” Carey looked at the cover. “How did you get a hold of that?”

“Um, a friend bought it for me.”

Carey frowned. At the moment, he didn’t know what to say or think. He was annoyed and slightly put-off. Maybe he was being stalked, after all.

“Hmmm. Well…”

“Ya wanna know what I thought?”

Carey wasn’t sure. He just stared at Randy.

“I thought you were very brave.”

Carey blushed.

“Well, ok.”

“That other guy, the girlie guy? Are you two a thing?”

Carey blushed. “No. Not, really.” He didn’t elaborate. Micah and he had come within a whisker of having sex on Tybee Island. Something between them clicked in a different way. Instead of doing the “nasty,” they had just held each other.

The left side of Randy’s shirt had fallen open when he turned on his side. Half of his smooth chest was exposed. Carey’s eyes fell to his light brown nipples. He could see a small tuft of dark hair sticking out from his underarm. With his left hand, he reached out and cupped Randy’s chest, feeling the firmness of his chest plate and the softness of his nipple. He traced his finger around the contour of Randy’s chest, lightly brushing the shirt open so he could get to the other side. Randy stared steadily into Carey’s eyes. His own eyes narrowed.

Carey put his right hand underneath his head against the pillow. As he did, he moved his face closer to Randy’s. Now he could feel Randy’s warm breath on his face. Together, they nudged themselves toward each other. As he held his hand on Randy’s chest, Carey could now feel Randy’s breath on his mouth. He opened it, closed his eyes, preparing for their lips to meet.

Bang! A sudden noise like a door shutting from somewhere in the house.

“Randy! We’re home!” A woman’s shrill voice.

The moment was gone in an instant. Randy jolted from the bed as he buttoned his shirt. He quickly grabbed the book and threw it back into the dresser drawer. Carey was slower to get up. He turned away from Randy as he put his shoes back on and tried to collect his thoughts.

Suddenly, Randy’s mood became strangely formal and distant.

“Hey! Thanks for coming over!”

It was as if he had adopted a different persona. They chatted for a moment about the music as Randy escorted him to the front door. His parents were nowhere in sight but he could hear them in one of the other rooms.

As he opened the door for Carey, they looked at each other.

“Let’s hang out again, ok?” Randy said with a blank stare.

It sounded non-committal. Just like that, he closed the door.

When Carey got outside, he realized he’d been royally dumped. Randy didn’t even offer him a ride home. WTF! Taking out his phone, he tapped his Uber app and arranged for a ride. Fifteen minutes and seven bucks later, he was back home.

***

He just shook his head in disgust. That little fuckin’ faggot! He had trooped all the way out to Montauk expecting to pack some sausage. Instead, Day had played him like a cheap drum. He was so damn hot when they started exchanging messages on Grindr. A couple of tantalizing photos, including one of his delightful derrière, and Dirk was all in. The Benjamin’s were awfully nice to let him stay with them. Dirk was hopeful, then disappointed, that he couldn’t share a room with Day. He was assigned to a guest room over the garage, of all places. Not even in the main house!

Then, all Day could talk about was this Toby kid. Okay, he was cute, but, fuck! Just to see if he could get Day going, he came on strong to him at the party, only to be interrupted by yet another football fan.

Anyway, since Montauk, he was getting increasingly cryptic IM’s from Day. There were tickets for the first home game of the season reserved for him, if he ever brought his high tight butt to town. Somehow, Dirk was skeptical.

He’d been on campus now for over a week. Two-a-days, every day, until Labor Day weekend. One of the last out of the locker room today, he sauntered into Kappa Sig, the jock house on campus. Of course, the boys were having yet another party, beer, booze, and women flowing, in blatant disregard of team policy. Sloughing off most of the adulation for his stellar performance at practice, Dirk reacted to the back slaps and congratulatory yells with grunts and mumbled thanks. Grabbing an iced cold beer from the horse trough set up in the frat's living room, he went directly to his room.

Sitting on his bed, his back against the headboard, Dirk took a long draw on the beer, swished it around in his mouth, and let it slide down his throat. The smell of sex wafted up from his bed. He chuckled a bit. Maybe it’s time to change the sheets, he thought, after jerking off fifty times or so in the last week.

Dirk gave his right bicep a quick squeeze. It was a lot of work maintaining this physique, but it was worth it. He had muscles for his muscles. Well defined pecs, big pink nips. He felt under his shirt, scratching the modest patch of blond curly hair between his pecs. Matching wavy hair on his head, a cheap cut, and usually untended. Big square face, narrow blue eyes. Wide mouth, square dimpled chin. Fully developed six pack. Oak tree sized legs and thighs, pure muscle, covered in curly hair.

Kind of a hairy butt. He was never going to shave it, though. He thought that maybe a lot of guys might like that. His dick, fat and sort of short when it was limp, scary big at over seven inches when his mind was on the important stuff in life. A grower, not a show-er.

Dirk Gerszewski. That name would haunt him for his entire life. It sounded like a sneeze. Somebody figured it out in high school. Starting first at pep rallies, then later at games, whenever his name was announced, it was followed by everyone yelling in unison, "Gesundheit!" His college teammates made fun of him behind his back, whispering their own nickname for him: Snot.

He knew it before he even knew it. Gay. In his mind, it was always boys, boys, boys. He worshipped boys. Certain boys were sublimely cool. He admired their hair, the way they laughed, even their boy smells. He fell constantly in and out of love with various guys throughout his elementary and middle school years. From a distance, of course.

Dirk grew up in an angry house. His parents always talked to their kids and to each other in a sharp tone. There was plenty of yelling. Konrad, his dad, was a scary dude. Wide as he was tall, muscular, large face, crew cut, massive hands. A big believer in corporal punishment.

When he was twelve, Dirk's dad caught him looking at gay porn on his computer. He practically beat the shit out of him. The look in his eyes was enough. After it was over and the ringing in his ears subsided, Dirk was convinced his dad was a totally in the closet fag too. But, he was going to have to stay in the closet himself. Or, his father would eventually kill him.

Dirk yawned, his eyes drooping. Picking up his phone, he sent a text to the house manager.

"Send Blackie up to my room."

Moments later. A thumbs up icon.

Blackie was one of the kitchen help. Daunte Forman, eighteen-years-old, already on the job, obligated to work as part of his financial aid package. The rush chairman had told him they were thinking about asking young Daunte to join this fall’s pledge class.

He checked a couple of boxes for Kappa Sig. First, he was Black. Sure, there was Alpha Phi, the Black fraternity on campus. But, the IFC was making a push for diversity and inclusion. As a result, the Kappa Sig's tried to recruit a couple of Black guys for each pledge class. They'd given Daunte the nickname Blackie for obvious reasons. Ok, it wasn't PC but frat life was often cruel and tone deaf.

Second, they wanted to have a few guys who weren't out for a sport. A lame attempt to dispel the frat's jock reputation. They were never going to shake it off, though. Blackie checked that box, too. Math major, top ten in his high school class, a skinny kid, definitely not an athlete.

The third box was Dirk's personal one. He was willing.

Shortly after getting Blackie to carry all of his stuff up from the car when he arrived for camp, Dirk pretty much had him pegged. A little flirting and cajoling, and Blackie was his. Pretty much at his disposal, Blackie's charge was to take care of Dirk in exchange for future membership in the frat. As a result, he was forced to submit to every kind of twisted sex Dirk's vivid imagination could conjure up.

After a soft knock at the door, Blackie entered. Only about 5'7," hardly more than 110 pounds, thin, longish kinky hair. Cute bubble butt. Deep ebony skin. He wore a nice button up shirt, shorts, long white socks, and athletic shoes.

"Get naked for me, will ya?" Dirk asked. It wasn't really a question. Another swig of beer.

Without a word, Blackie kicked his shoes off and unbuttoned his shirt. After removing it, he bent down to take his socks off.

"Leave those on."

Blackie just shrugged. He removed the rest of his clothes. Standing there, Dirk watched as his impressive eight inches bounced lightly on top of his balls. That long thick shaft, big head, deep brown color, crowned by a neat patch of black curly pubic hair. Boy tummy, over-sized belly button. Smooth chest, oval nipples the same shade as his cock. He looked freaking sexy wearing only socks.

Pulling his t-shirt off, Dirk gave each one of his own nipples a squeeze with one hand.

"Suck on these."

Obligingly, Blackie walked over and sat down on his bed. Leaning over Dirk, one hand supporting his body, he bent over and brought his lips to one nipple. After giving it some attention, he switched to the other. As he sucked and licked his nipples, Dirk brought his hand up and lightly brushed it across Blackie's back and butt.

Dirk didn't really get hard at all. He was too bushed. In the end, he made Blackie jerk off all over his chest. Dirk took a swab of cum with his finger and forced Blackie to lick it off.

Yawning, he turned the light off next to his bed and flipped on his side.

"You're excused, bud."

Dirk let out a long sigh after he heard the door click shut. For no reason at all, the vision of Carey Sterling’s naked hip and ass crept into his consciousness. No way was he gonna shell out fifty bucks for one of those books, but one of his frat brothers had. He thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head when he saw some of those pictures.

He’d gotten a chuckle when he saw the article about the photo exhibit in the school paper. That same day, he saw Carey sitting at a table along one of the campus walks. He even thought for a moment about going up to him and striking up a conversation. But, what were they even going to talk about? Sure, they came from the same high school, even in the same graduating class. And, maybe, just maybe, Carey was Gay. Man, he thought! What I wouldn’t give to pound his pud? Dirk’s last conscious thought before descending into dream land.

***

What WAS that?

Carey tried to ponder the question between answering the phone and reviewing an article for his research. Was he at a crossroads? Is this what being Gay is all about? Or, was it just more horny guy stuff?

His attraction to Randy was strong. He wanted so badly to kiss him last night. When Randy ended the evening so abruptly and tossed him out, it was obvious he knew what was about to happen. Was he ashamed, deeply in the closet, or was he rejecting Carey’s advance?

Nothing was resolved.

“What is your problem?” Denise exclaimed. “All I’m doing is asking you a question.”

Carey just grunted. He’d been crabby all day. Just as they were wrapping things up and turning out the lights at the end of the day, he got a text from Randy.

“Hang out?”

“K.”

“8. My place.”

“K.”

A moment later,

“Cya then.”

After showering to get the tension out and eating a microwave dinner, he arrived at Randy’s house around eight that evening.

When Randy opened the door, he was wearing only a pair of dark blue fleece shorts that left a couple of inches of treasure trail visible below his belly button. Great tummy. Bare feet. Carey was more than pleasantly surprised at the way he was greeted. He felt an immediate tightening in his pants as his eyes roved over Randy’s smooth lean body. Leading him back to the great room, Carey enjoyed watching his nicely rounded hips and tight ass.

Directing Carey to a luxuriously cushy leather sofa, Randy offered him something to drink. As he prepared it, Carey admired the high beamed ceiling and attractive furnishings.

Handing Carey a short brown drink on ice, his eyes twinkled as he said, “Cheers!”

Bourbon. The second the drink hit his throat he warmed up and relaxed.

Sitting down next to him, one leg on the floor, the other on the couch so close that his knee touched the side of Carey’s thigh, Randy said, “I’d totally spaced that I’d picked you up last night. Sorry about kicking you out. I kind of panicked.”

“No worries. It only took a few hours to walk home,” Carey teased.

They both laughed.

“So, where are your parents tonight?”

“Out of town. Some leadership retreat. No chance they’ll be coming home this time.”

Another twinkly smile.

Looking him over from head to toe again, Carey asked, “Do you usually spend your time at home dressed like this?”

Randy chuckled, “Yeah.”

Carey somewhat sarcastically asked with a smile, “Why even bother with the shorts?”

Randy gave him a squirrelly smile. Without another word, he got up and left the room. A moment later he reappeared. He’d stripped down to his underwear, a pair of black and white pinstriped bikini briefs. Walking over to Carey, he stood directly in front of him, his massive erection clearly pushing against the material of his underwear.

Carey put his drink down and with a soft groan, ran his hand up and down the bulge in Randy’s briefs. Randy gasped lightly. Pulling the front of the briefs down, Carey exposed Randy’s smooth pink cock and, in one full swoop, took it into his mouth.

It was gorgeous. Seven plus inches. Thick, tasty. Randy had a full crop of dark brown pubic hair and a luscious treasure trail above it. His balls were covered by a thin layer of hair. His upper thighs were pearly white and smooth. His smell. God! His smell! A little musky mixed in with the perfume of some fancy soap.

Randy gasped as he let Carey suck for a minute. Then he stepped back and pulled Carey to his feet. Taking Carey’s hand, he led him to his bedroom. Randy shoved him on the bed and stripped him completely naked. Letting his own underpants fall to the floor, he pushed Carey’s legs apart, leaned down between them, and swallowed Carey whole.

The rest of the night was a whirlwind. Sucking and fucking in every imaginable combination. They fell asleep sometime around 3 am, cuddled together, cum and sweat filled sheets above and below them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2024 JLynch; All Rights Reserved.
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Thanks for reading this story. Comments and criticism will greatly be appreciated. You can comment on this site or send me an email: jacklynch945@proton.me.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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