How the Coronavirus Jump-Started my Sex Life - 24. Chapter 24

Post-Coitus

“I could stay here forever,” Alan announced in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Uhm,” I answered barely awake, as I lay beside him on the smooth rock surface next to the hot pool.

The sun, the hot water, the fabulous sex, the big lunch, our sexual work-out, the peacefulness, and the near-silence of the forest lulled me into a contented relaxation that was almost drug-like in its effects.

Later, I woke when a gust of wind suddenly brought a chill to my naked torso. Beside me, Alan also stirred as if the same gust of wind had awakened him.

“What time is it?” he asked.

For a moment I just lay there willing myself to move. Finally, I drew sufficient energy from my body to slowly sit up and then to turn, skewer my knapsack with my finger, and drag it close. I rummaged around inside until I felt my phone. Extracting it, I found the tine to be 3:41.

When I announced the time, Alan looked surprised. “We slept almost 2 hours, I guess.”

I nodded. “I think we did.”

He sat up from his prone position. “I guess we ought to head back to campus, huh?”

“Yeah, if we want to catch dinner in the dining hall.”

We pulled our wrinkly feet out of the pool, dried, and dressed languidly. I smooshed everything into the knapsack and we snapped a couple of photos of the pool, including one of each of us separately beside the pool and a selfie of the two of us, his arm around my shoulder and the sides of our heads pressed together.

We hiked down the hillside, past the other pools, and into the parking lot, which was vacant except for the Durango. I tossed the knapsack into the rear seat and turned around, right into Alan’s embrace. His arms went around me and he looked deeply into my eyes.

“Thanks for bringing me to this amazing place, babe. It was an awesome day!” Before I could answer, he pulled me close until our chests were touching. His head went to the side of mine and he kissed me slowly and firmly on the cheek. The embrace grew tighter for a few seconds and then he released me and stepped back. We shared a warm smile and he placed a hand on the side of my head for a couple of seconds. Then he dropped his hand and walked around the vehicle. I felt warm and peaceful inside.

On our way home, we stopped at the Sandia Reservation just on the north edge of the city. We pulled into the service station there, where we found regular gasoline priced at $1.12.9 per gallon.

“Holy shit!” Alan exclaimed. “Is that price for real?”

“It’s always cheapest here because the tribes don’t have to pay federal gas taxes. But this is incredibly low!”

We were the only vehicle in a usually very busy gas mart.

“Well, no one’s going anywhere these days, so there’s no demand for gas,” he suggested.

“Must be it.”

We both laughed when the fill-up only cost me $18.60.

“It usually costs $50 to fill up this gas hog,” Alan laughed.

Routines

The next day we fell back into our routine. I woke Alan at 8:00 every morning, usually enjoying an early-morning quickie blow-job before we showered and went to the dining hall for breakfast. We spent the mornings in our own rooms, either studying, catching up with email and other social media posts, or talking with our parents or friends on the phone. Lunch was in the dining hall. After lunch, we would return to our rooms for our private activities until about 3:00, when we would either have a solid workout in the basement of the dorm or play a couple of sets of tennis at the nearby university courts.

Alan and I both improved on our tennis games after our initial match the previous week but I continued to win about 60% of the games. For a few days I could tell he was frustrated by my winning streak, but eventually he seemed to accept that I was the stronger player and relaxed. I enjoyed it a bit more when I could tell we were both playing more for fun and exercise than to exert dominance over each other.

We continued our practice of showering together before dinner, washing each other, and sometimes enjoying a nice orgasm.

At some point, we discovered we both play chess, so we began working a competitive chess game into many of our evenings. He was the stronger player this time and tended to win most games. The great thing was that in spite of being competitive, we were sympathetic with our opponent when we were the winner. I liked that a lot because it gave our evenings a mutually supportive and caring nature.

On other evenings, we would watch a grinding, usually violent, action flick such as Redemption, The Hard Way, American Gangster, American Assassin, or One More Shot. Alan particularly liked action-movie legend Scott Adkins because he was so rough and tough. I liked Adkins, too, for the same reasons and also because he was such a handsome dude who looked so hot in his jeans that fit tight across his fine ass and on his legs while always showing an enticing bulge in the right spot in front. And when he took his shirt off, you got an immediate lesson in abdominal excellence!

I wondered if it was any sort of coincidence that Alan was always ready to pound me into the mattress after a Scott Adkins flick.

Yes, almost every night ended with me getting training in sphincter-relaxation techniques involving lube, a condom, and a raging, insistent, and wonderful erection. I grew to love it more with each gargantuan penetration. I was in heaven!

Beginning on Sunday afternoon, our solitude was interrupted by a carefully orchestrated move-out of the guys from the third floor as well as other floors and other dorms. Suddenly, there were cars arriving and people coming in groups of 2 or 3 to pack and carry out individual student’s belongings. Typically, there were a couple of groups in the mornings, one at each end of the hallway. There would be two groups arrive about 1 p.m. and two groups arrive about 3:00 p.m.

I received an email on Wednesday from the Housing Office informing me that my roommate Bert had an appointment to clear his belongings from our room on Thursday between 1 and 3 p.m. I was requested to be absent in order to maintain safe distancing while he evacuated.

After reading the email, I called Bert to chat about his move-out plans. We had a brief conversation about how we were both doing. I told him Alan and I had taken the trip to Jemez Springs and how weird it had been with absolutely nobody in sight anywhere.

“I wish I could have met you guys there,” Bert said.

“Me, too,” I said a little insincerely. “But we knew that would violate the quarantine.”

“Yeah. Man, this all sucks.”

“So, I’m thinking. You’re coming tomorrow to get your stuff.”

“Yeah. Me and my dad. I don’t think he trusts me alone in the big city.”

I chuckled. “It’s probably best. I’d try to hug you if we weren’t monitored.”

“That’d be nice, babe.”

I’d forgotten that he sometimes called me that. “Well, so I have a plan. I’ll vacate the room while you and your dad are there, but maybe you could call me when you’re done and we could meet in the courtyard outside. We could sit 20 feet apart and talk for a while before you guys leave.”

“Oh,” Bert’s voice brightened. “That sounds cool. I’ll see if Dad will go for it.”

“Yes, it’s the same deal as my visit in Cruces this weekend. We’ll stay outside and 20 feet apart.”

We chatted some more and then hung up. A few minutes later, I got a text from him.

Bert: Dad says we can have half an hour but we cannot get close together.

I sent him six thumbs-up emojis.

At lunch I explained the plan to Alan and asked him to come with me to meet Bert.

“Sure,” he said. “Then I’ll come back up and leave you two alone to talk.”

Bert’s Move-Out

After lunch on Thursday, I borrowed Alan’s roommate’s desk chair and moved it into the hallway outside Alan’s room. I sat down and started reading my English lit book while I waited for Bert’s arrival. While I sat in the hall, Alan sat inside typing away on an American History paper due in a few weeks. He had a slight issue with being required to take American History, which he pointed out was US History but didn’t include the rest of America, namely Canada and Mexico and all the Southern parts. I couldn’t disagree it was a bit ludicrous and pompous for us to sort of “own” the word America when, in face, we are only about 20% of the hemisphere.

I had not gotten far into Catcher in the Rye, as reprinted in my textbook, when I heard the elevator ding and noises in the hallway. I looked up to see Bert and his father starting toward our room, pushing one of those carts with a couple of shelves on it.

“Bert!” I called as I stood up.

They stopped and turned in my direction. “Cal!” Bert screamed through his mask. He took a step in my direction and then stopped. “How are you?”

“Good,” I shouted. “Listen, I left a bunch of boxes on my bed. Use any that you need. We’ve got plenty more.”

“Thanks,” his father called.

“Hi, Mr. Norris.”

“Good to see you, Cal. We’ll get done as soon as we can and then call you.”

“That’s great.”

Bert gave me a nelly little wave and they pushed the squeeky cart on down the hall, stopping outside our door. Bert unlocked it and they went inside.

The excitement of seeing Bert had destroyed my concentration, so I brought the chair back inside.

“So, they’re here,” Alan said unnecessarily.

“Yep.”

He looked at me quizzically for a moment. “Something wrong?”

“No. Uh, I’ve just lost my interest in old literature. That’s all.”

Alan chuckled, “Yeah. Like me and the Reconstruction Period. Ugh.”

We looked at each other for a moment and I wondered if we would have sex.

“Fancy a chess game?” he invited.

“Sure.”

Alan had almost beaten me when my phone rang an hour and a half later.

“Hey, are you done?” I asked Bert.

“Yes, we just finished loading the last stuff into the pick-up. Give us a couple of minutes in the restroom to wash up and then we’ll meet you in the courtyard.”

“Excellent. You want a soda?”

“That’d be good. Two?”

“Of course.”

I ended the call and Alan said, “Snatched from the jaws of defeat by the cell phone.”

I laughed. “I guess you could say that. I’m going to get them some sodas to take down.”

“Okay. I’ll walk with you.”

“Good.”

Alan stood and we started out to the hall. As usual, I let him lead the way so I could enjoy his amazing butt as he walked. He was dressed as he usually was around the dorm in compression shorts and a matching tank top. This outfit was in saucy fire-engine red and, of course, left no body contour to the imagination. He stuck his feet into his black flip-flops and we walked down to my room. I wondered how Bert and Mr. Norris would react to Alan’s incredibly sexy body on display.

It was weird seeing the room with Bert’s side completely barren except for a couple of unused boxes on the bed and a plastic bag full of garbage.

I opened the mini-fridge. “Want a soda?”

“No, thanks. I won’t stay but a minute.”

I selected a 7-Up and 2 Cokes and dropped them into a plastic bag. We walked down the two flights of stairs and went into the courtyard. No one was there, but Bert and Mr. Norris came in from the other side just a moment later.

“Stop!” I called.

They stopped at the edge of the patio. I walked into the middle and pulled a Coke out of the bag. I set it on a table and said, “Coke or 7-Up?”

“Coke,” said Mr. Norris.

“I’ll have a 7-Up,” Bert added.

I extracted the 7-Up, set it beside the Coke, and retreated to the other side of the patio.

Father and son strolled over to the table where I had set the drinks.

“Bert. Mr. Norris. This is Alan Kennedy, my new friend who is here from Edmonton, Alberta.”

“Nice to meet you, Alan,” Mr. Norris said warmly. He’s a very nice man.

“You, too, Mr. Norris,” Alan responded.

“Hi, Alan,” Bert said. “I remember seeing you before but I don’t think we’ve actually met.”

“Yeah, I remember seeing you, too, Bert. Well, it’s good to finally meet.”

Bert and Mr. Norris sat down on the side of the table furthest away so they were facing us. I sat down facing them, too. It was a strange arrangement but par for the course in 2020, I guessed.

Alan said, “I’ll leave you to visit. I’m working on an American History paper upstairs. That’s not too easy for a Canadian.”

We all laughed.

“I hope to see you again eventually,” Bert said.

“Me, too,” Alan replied.

“Good-bye, Alan.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Norris.”

Alan turned and we all watched him walk across the courtyard and pass through the doorway into the dorm. I wondered if they were also feasting their eyes on his incredible butt.

When I turned back to my guests, Bert had an odd expression on his face but Mr. Norris was taking his first chug of his Coke.

With Mr. Norris chaperoning us and sometimes participating in the conversation, Bert and I talked mainly of his family and my family and what we thought the rest of the semester might be like. Since we had no experience with online courses, we were a bit nervous about how much we could learn and how our grades would resolve under those conditions. Mr. Norris was curious how the professors would handle labs in the science classes. I told him I didn’t know yet because I’d had no information from my profs.

Bert did ask me how weird it felt to be quarantined with Alan, since we were basically strangers.

“You know, it was a little strange right at first, but we decided we would hang out and share the bubble so we weren’t completely alone. That was a good decision, I think. We’ve actually spent a lot of time together and become friends during this time. I mean, we eat all our meals together and play tennis and chess and work out and watch TV in the evenings. Most of the time we are in our rooms during the day. That’s when we study and when I do most of my emails and such.”

“And you are taking some little trips,” Bert said with a hint of jealousy.

“We are. He has a Durango. You might have seen it in the lot. It’s practically the only vehicle there. Anyhow, he is sort of new to New Mexico and we have been on a couple of day trips to some of our rather remote sights, like Jemez Springs.”

“Are you finding other people are traveling?” Mr. Norris asked.

“Very few,” I replied. “We say one family the day we went to Quarai and another family was at the Soda Dam. We did see a Native family at Watatowa who were selling pottery and jewelry. They masked up when we pulled in and gave us a good amount of space while we looked at the pottery.”

“So, you’re going to see your folks on Saturday?” Bert asked.

“Actually, on Sunday. We have to be out of the dorm at 5 on Saturday so we plan to move into the loft that day. We’ll sleep there on Saturday night and then go to Cruces on Sunday.”

“I’m jealous that you guys will be living in a loft in Nob Hill while I’m stuck on the Hill.” Bert whined.

Mr. Norris gave him a somewhat glaring look.

“No offense, Dad, but that sounds like a fun place to live.”

“I get it,” Mr. Norris said.

We talked a little more about the loft before Mr. Norris looked at his watch and said, “We’d better get going, Bert. I promised your mother we’d be home for supper.”

We said our good-byes, maintaining our safe distancing, and they departed. I watched them go, gave Bert a final wave, and then went back upstairs.