The List - 7. Chapter 7: Ben

Specimen’s name: Ben

Height: 5’10’’

Build: 155 (slim)

Occupation: Barista, musician

Age: 19

Measurements: 6’’ uncut

Getting over my guilt about hooking up with Sexy Bartender was surprisingly easier than I anticipated. When I woke up on Sunday evening, I was sure that I would feel like shit forever. I forced myself out of the apartment and to the student study lounge. When I checked my phone, I had three texts from Kyle.

From Kyle: Missed you at brunch today. Wanna have a study break later?

From Kyle: When did I lose track of you last night?

From Kyle: Wanna bone? : )

I let out a sigh and an involuntary smile. As I trekked over to University Place to get myself a little study corner for the night, I thought in circles about whether or not I should tell Kyle I’d slept with Eric.

I mean, I wasn’t the world’s best liar, and I had every intention of being above-board with him from here on out. On the other hand, last night had been a temporary slip up and there wasn’t any reason for him to know if I was certain it wouldn’t happen again.

On the other-other hand, I’d given him so much grief about going back on us being exclusive, I felt like he deserved to know he was right— I did bend it over for the first cute guy that smiled at me the right way.

When I got to the study lounge, I texted Kyle my whereabouts and he said he’d come over at around nine for a study break.

Nine turned into ten and ten turned into eleven and Kyle still hadn’t called or texted me. I assumed he was busy himself, and I wasn’t even halfway down my to-do list, so I didn’t mind the extra hours of study time. I’d be up until at least 2 a.m. as it stood already.

At a quarter after eleven, Kyle called and said he was at University Place. I told him I was on a couch on the third floor and a couple of minutes later, he spotted me. He smiled when he saw me.

“I brought you essentials,” he said. He pulled out a water bottle, some aspirin and two bananas from his backpack. Then he pulled out a jar of peanut butter.

“Oh, a picnic?” I said, my voice still hoarse from a night of abuse.

“I thought you could use it,” he replied. “Spencer told me you looked pretty rough this morning.”

“Yeah, I got a little drunker than I planned,” I said. He peeled one banana and handed it to me. He picked up the other and started peeling it also.

“Listen, I just want to clear the air. I talked to Jamie today.”

Uh-oh, I thought. He was about to get really sweet and I was about to tell him that I hooked up with the world’s sexiest drink-slinger.

“I told her that I had met someone and I wanted to take it more seriously with them.” He said. I nodded, dipped my banana into the jar of peanut butter and took a bite to escape having to respond. Kyle just kept talking. “And I mean it, I do. No more half-and-half shit. Let’s do this. You and me.”

He was keeping his voice low, but I could tell he meant the words. I swallowed hard and said, “You don’t need to do that.”

“I like you Cooper,” he said. “I really do, and I feel like a part of me was afraid of how much I liked you in such a little amount of time. I’m not good at this, so let’s just call it a thing and move on.”

“So we’re a thing?” I said.

“We’re a thing, yeah. No big deal,” he said.

“Starting now?” I edged closer to my confession.

“Right now,” he said. He leaned over to me on the couch and gave me a quick kiss. He looked around to make sure no one had seen it.

“Kyle, I have to tell you something, then,” I said quickly. He was still leaning close to me. “And you can’t get mad because we’re a thing, starting now. I had a momentary lapse in judgment last night.”

“A lapse how?” he asked. Just stick the needle in and give me the shot, I thought. No use sugar coating it.

“I hooked up with the bartender from Skins,” I told him. Kyle was quiet for a second. He leaned away from me on the couch and faced the window.

“The bartender,” he said, biting his bottom lip. I would have paid a million bucks to know what he was thinking at that point. “Well I’m not happy about it,” he said. “Like you wanted, I’m actually pretty upset.”

“You’re upset?” I asked, saying it more like a sentence than a question. Shit, I thought. I’d already ruined things and we’d been official for exactly ten seconds.

“I’m really upset, Mr. Carpenter,” he said. “But it is something I’m going to be able to get over, given enough time and retribution.”

“Retribution?” I asked, realizing that he was joking and that I’d have to play along. “And in what form would you like this retribution?”

The next thing I felt was Kyle’s hand placed squarely on the flap of my pajama pants. He squeezed my dick pretty roughly, but I felt like I was in no position to complain. My cock pulsed a little bit harder.

“That form should do,” he said, finally turning to me and smiling. “The punishment should fit the crime.”

“There is no way we get away with doing this here,” I said looking around. The study lounge was by no means empty and anyone at any moment could have looked up and guessed why Kyle’s hands were lost in my lap. He didn’t seem to care and just kept squeezing my cock, making it harder and harder.

“I know,” he said. “I may be out to you and Spencer, but I’m not ready to have all of Dallas seeing my fag flag fly.” Kyle gave my dick one more good squeeze through my cotton pajama pants and then let go. I could feel an ounce of precum form a wet spot at the flap of my pants. “This is what we’re going to do, Mr. Carpenter. As soon as you’re capable of walking, you are going to follow me to the basement of University Place. There, in the bowels of this building,” he said.

I interrupted. “The bowels?”

“Yes sir, the bowels of the building. There in the bowels of the building is a nook known only to certain Sigmas and their girls. I was made privy to this nook by my brother who told me to go there with this girl I’d met while visiting him.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes really, Mr. Carpenter. Are you ready to walk yet?” he asked still keeping a stern face.

“I mean, I’m having a tough time recovering. Thinking about what I’m going to do to you in the bowels and all,” I said trying not to laugh out loud.

“Well then think of something else. Like midget trapeze artists,” he said, maintaining his composure.

“You didn’t know I have a midget fetish?”

“Now that’s something you could have told me before making me fall for you,” he said, finally laughing. We sat there for another minute or so.

We got up and I followed Kyle to the stairwell. I chased behind him as we ran down four flights of stairs, unable to get to the basement fast enough. Before we’d even found the nook, I put my arm around Kyle’s shoulders with one hand and took a squeeze of his dick through his jeans with my other.

“Almost there, Mr. Carpenter,” he said to me. We rounded a corner and were faced by a long corridor that seemed to have nothing there. I knew this lead to a ramp on the side street where the student center got all of its deliveries. Seeing no one in the corridor at this hour, Kyle paused, leaned me against the wall and kissed me really hard. At that moment, I never wanted him to let go.

After kissing for a solid minute, Kyle let go of my lips and I continued following him down the corridor. A fourth of the way down, we stopped inside this little nook that had a door leading to God-knows-where. Just outside the door, Kyle leaned me against the wall again. Expecting him to kiss me again, instead he bent down and pulled my semi-hard dick out of my thin pants. He wrapped his hand around it, gave it a squeeze and smiled up at me.

“Is this the nook?” I asked.

“No, but I don’t feel like waiting,” he said grinning up at me. He licked the head of my dick, which responded to him almost immediately. He gave it one more lick and then stood up. “I just wanted a taste.”

I was almost upset at the tease he was giving me. A kiss here and a lick there wasn’t nearly enough to satiate the horniness he’d released when he squeezed my cock the first time. We went through the door, down another flight of stairs and into another door. Kyle slowly opened the door, listened for a second and then went in. It was pitch black inside.

As soon as we were inside, I heard a click suggesting that the door had closed behind us. I still couldn’t see a thing. I felt Kyle’s hand on my shoulder, turn me around and then pull me into him so that his chest was square with my back. With my thin pants doing little to shield his bulge, I felt that Kyle was sporting a hard-on just like I was. Afraid to make a sound, I let him do whatever he wanted. This was my retribution.

Kyle ran his hand down my stomach, took the bottom of my shirt and lifted it over my head. A second later, I felt his bare chest press against my back as well. Still unable to see, I felt like my sense of touch was heightened as every move Kyle was making was just getting me that much hotter.

Kyle never skipped a single beat. Moving at a pace that suggested that this place wasn’t ours to toy around with, Kyle pulled me close and slid my pants down to my knees. I was surprised that he was taking such a lead on this, but what could I say? I was his for the night. A second later, I heard him unzip his pants and slide his jeans down to his own knees. He pressed back up on me, and this time I could clearly feel his cock press up against my ass. I leaned back into him.

“May I?” I heard him whisper. His dick wasn’t nearly as big as Eric’s, but by any standard, it was impressive. It was the first time Kyle had ever expressed interest in fucking me and I was pretty thrilled.

“Of course,” I replied. I moved my hips back towards him, creating an arch in my back. He kept holding on to my shoulders as I put my hands out, feeling for something to steady myself with. Kyle said, “Here,” and turned me around so that I could lean my hands onto the door.

I felt Kyle squat down and begin eating my ass, pulling my cheeks apart with his warm hands. If I thought this guy gave great head, it was because I’d never felt him eat my ass. The sensation his tongue created was like none other I’d ever felt. He took it to the next level, doing it not just to lube up my ass, but also because he enjoyed it— I could tell he did, just by his speed and vigor. I also felt like Kyle’s mouth naturally created more saliva than the average man when he was horny because after a couple of minutes, my ass was loose, wet and ready. Kyle stood up, and I heard a condom wrapper open. He slipped it on and within a second, he’d pushed all the way into my ass.

As long as Eric’s dick had been, I felt immediately that Kyle’s cock was thicker. It wasn’t a huge difference in girth, but with him buried into my ass to the hilt, I sure did feel it. I let out a rather loud moan, coupled with his sexy, “Oh, fuck yeah.”

Without saying anything, I pressed back against Kyle while he pushed into me. A couple of pumps later and we’d created a pretty solid and sexy rhythm.

“Fuck me,” I said over and over and Kyle gladly obliged. Whispering his own “Oh fucks” and “Oh yeahs” in my ear, Kyle picked up the pace and before long, he was pumping in and out as fast as he could. If anyone happened upon this little nook, the only thing they’d hear would be the sound of Kyle’s skin slapping against mine and our relentless moans. At one point, feeling like I couldn’t last any longer, I felt Kyle move his hand from my hip to my face. He stuck his middle finger into my mouth and forced me to suck it hard. A second after that, he pulled back as far as he could lean, pulled my hair with his free hand and forced me to arch my back as far as I could.

I wish I had been an observer watching us, because even though it was very dark, I knew our silhouettes made a sexy sight.

I had never felt Kyle get so aggressive and I loved it. Being on top was a complete 180 for him. He was in 100 percent beast mode, fucking me as if he was marking his sexual territory. We went on like that, pounding away, for at least thirty minutes. Where he’d learned to fuck like that and last that long without a single break, I had no clue.

After a while, I heard Kyle’s breathing get heavier and heavier. As if he were running up a flight of stairs and reaching the top, he slowed his thrusts and went deeper and deeper than he had been. I knew he was almost spent and a second later, I felt him pull out all the way, swivel me around with his hand and push me down on my knees by the shoulder. A second after that, I was receiving a shower of hot sticky cum. Kyle’s velocity was so strong that his cum actually stung as it hit my face. What didn’t hit my face dangled from the end of his dick and I gladly sucked it off. Since I was paying my penance, I was determined to milk every ounce of cum out of Kyle’s cock. While I was sucking on his cock, I was barely pumping at mine. A minute later, when I was sure I had swallowed everything I was going to get, I let go of Kyle’s cock, let out a moan of my own, doubled over and came all over this nook’s floor.

I stood up and Kyle did something that was truly sexy. He cupped my face in his hands and licked my forehead, then my nose, then my chin, clearing off every drop of cum he’d put on me. I was powerless and weak and had had my biggest orgasm to date right there with Kyle in the Sigma’s little secret nook.

We got dressed, ignored the cum we’d left on the floor and escaped the bowels of the student center. I went up to my couch, too jazzed to return to studying and instead packed up and told Kyle we should go to my place and watch a movie. My only goal was for him to fall asleep in my arms.

By the time we got back to my dorm hall, Spencer was already asleep. I whispered to Kyle, “Let’s go to bed.” He smiled at me, took off everything except his boxers and climbed into my bed. I took my pants and shirt off too and climbed in after him.

The next morning, Kyle was gone before I woke, probably for his 9:00 am class that I wouldn’t have wished upon anyone. I woke up, showered and started my day.

That Monday was the start of what everyone called November Crunch. Officially, freshman grades were sent home to parents at the Thanksgiving Holiday. It was the only time grades were ever sent home from the school. It gave students and parents an idea of what freshman were walking into come finals after the break.

The month leading up to Thanksgiving was when most professors scheduled their last midterms before finals, so everyone knew it was crunch time. After my classes ended at four on Monday, I decided I would find a comfortable place to study away from all of the crazy stressed out undergraduates. I went to this little coffee shop just outside of campus called Drip Coffee.

“I’ll take a Macchiato,” I said to the barista, not even paying attention to what he looked like.

“Daisy Miller?” he asked me as I was handing him a five dollar bill.

“No, It’s Cooper,” I said, sort of agitated. I really just wanted my macchiato and to find a table and get to work.

“I meant the book in your hands,” he said to me. “It’s Daisy Miller.”

“Oh.” I looked down, shrugged and said, “Yeah it is.” The barista turned, mixed up a hot macchiato and returned it to me.

I found a cozy little corner in the back of the coffee shop with enough lighting above it that I’d be able to work until after dark. At around 10, a different barista told me they were closing and I packed up and went home.

I texted Kyle to see if he wanted to grab a late dinner, but he was knee-deep in studying of his own. We made plans to meet up for lunch on Wednesday. I was really glad that our relationship didn’t require constant contact. I had been with the kind of girl who got mad if you didn’t text or call or if you wanted to spend time alone. I was really hoping that dating a guy for a change would shape into a stress-free, uncomplicated romance— at least from here on out.

I finished class at two the next day and headed over to Drip for another marathon study session. The place was comfortable enough and I didn’t have to worry about too many distractions.

“You must have a lot of work to do,” the barista said as he cooked up another macchiato. “Busy class load?”

“Scholarship,” I said. “I have to do well on mid-terms or else I’ll be high-tailing it to TCC next semester.”

“Well, here is some brain juju,” he said handing me a piping hot macchiato. I told him thanks, and for the first time actually looked at him. He had curly dark hair and blue eyes, a combination that would make lesser men melt. I was on day two of being faithful and I sure wasn’t going to get sucked into this Jared Leto look-a-like even if he was mildly flirting with me. I took my drink and walked to my usual spot.

The next day, I met up with Kyle for lunch at the U in the center of campus. It had to be quick because he had a lab coming up and I had a quiz on Daisy Miller that I hadn’t even finished reading yet. We talked briefly about classes. He made a joke that I was taking “chick lit” and I told him it was the last English class I could get into and that the other guys in the class were cute and most likely gay, too. I told him to go cut open helpless frogs and to screw himself. It was remarkable how easy being around him was.

After my quiz, feeling like I hadn’t done very well at all, I headed over to Drip. I didn’t have anything in particular to study, but I just felt like assessing my game plan for the rest of November. When I went to the counter to order a macchiato, I realized the usual barista wasn’t there. I ordered a simple drip coffee instead, trying really hard not to miss my brief yet routinized conversations with the regular barista.

My usual spot was already spoken for, so I sat at a table near the door. I figured this study session would be pretty short, so I just pulled out my laptop and started flipping through Facebook while I sipped my coffee.

“Studying hard?” a voice asked. I looked up and realized the barista was standing there in plain clothes. I smiled up at him, made the decision that flirting casually wasn’t a crime and confessed that I was on Facebook.

“Ah,” he responded. “You must be done with Daisy Miller, then.” I was surprised that he even remembered that’s what I’d been reading. He stood there awkwardly, waiting for me to say something and so I asked him what he was doing at the coffee shop on his day off.

“Employee discount,” he said. “Unfortunately after moving here with, um, nothing to my name, the 60% off is the only coffee I can afford.”

“So you’ve been holding out on me with the discounts,” I said smiling up at him.

“I’ll hook you up next time, bro,” he said, introducing himself as Ben and shaking my hand. I took this brief lull in the conversation to ponder what was going on here. For all practical purposes the guy standing in front of me was as straight as an arrow. I mean, he wasn’t dressed particularly well, something I felt like most gay guys did. He said “bro”, had a deep voice, and looked like any of the hundred guys I’d been friends with in high school. I even noticed a tattoo on the inside of his wrist. And yet he was making small talk with me that bordered on flirting. Part of me thought he knew I’d be in at about this time and he stopped by because he wanted to see me.

I pushed the thought out of my head just as he was asking, “What do you say?” I confessed that I didn’t catch the first part of what he said and he repeated it. “I asked if you wanted to come see me play an acoustic concert here to tomorrow. I don’t really know very many people in the area and it’d be good to have a familiar face in the audience. And to be honest, you look like the kind of guy who could use the night away from the books to relax.” I wondered if he was asking me out or insulting my study habits. Was he actually inviting me somewhere? Could he tell by looking at me for a couple of days that I was into guys? Was I giving off a completely homo vibe? Sensing my hesitation, he added, “It’ll be a great. Bring your girlfriend, she’ll love it.”

And that was the end of that debate. Clearly he just saw me as another hetero dude who might be interested in watching him play the guitar and sing indie-rock songs. I smiled at him, said I’d think about it and went back to my laptop.

I brought it up when I was talking to Kyle in bed that night. Spencer was pulling an all-nighter at the science library and Kyle and I had met up for some much needed R&R. After flip-flopping and finishing in each other’s mouths, we just kind of lay there under my covers, talking. Kyle fit perfectly in my spoon with my arm wrapped around him. We were both still completely naked and my semi-hard-on was still pressed against the small of his back.

“So this cute guy who works at a coffee shop invites you to come hear him play and you don’t think he’s hitting on you? You haven’t been gay nearly long enough my friend,” Kyle said with a smirk. He did this thing while we were cuddling: he’d fiddle with my fingers. At first I didn’t get it, but when we talked, it felt totally natural.

“I’m telling you, he’s not into me,” I said. “He told me to bring my girlfriend tomorrow. He’s straight.”

“Just because we live in Dallas doesn’t mean everyone is straight,” Kyle said. “I think it’s cute that this barista has a little crush on you.”

“Well, I figure I’ll go. He said he doesn’t have very many friends ‘cause he just moved here. He could use the support,” I said. “Do you want to come?”

“I can’t,” Kyle replied scooting in closer to me. “I have a study group planned to go until late. You’re going to have to go on your date with the barista without me.” Kyle told me not to make any plans for Friday because he had something planned for us. We made out for a little while until we both fell asleep.

On Thursday, I went to Drip at eight and was surprised to see a small crowd gathered. They were all watching the barista sit on a stool and get ready to start his set. He was dressed in jeans, a droopy sweater and the obligatory leather jewelry. I ordered a coffee, sat down on one of the couches and listened to him play. To be completely honest, there was nothing special about him. I dreaded the thought of him asking me what I thought after the show and having to lie to his face. I mean, he sounded fine and he played fine, but there were a dozen guys with his John Mayer look who were vying for the same relevant spot.

He cornered me after the hour-long set and, like I thought, asked me how he’d done.

“It was good,” I replied, purposefully keeping it short.

“You’re alone,” he said. “What, no girlfriend?”

For whatever reason, I decided to play along with his notion that I was straight. It felt good to be around a guy’s guy for a change and so I said, “I’m between girls right now.”

“Oh man,” he said. “Then we’ve got to get you out on the town. What do you say to you and me going down to a couple of the bars on Greenville?”

“I thought you were broke as a joke,” I replied.

“It’s college night. Come on, you can’t possibly have something to study for on a Thursday,” he said. He was right, everything was cheaper on Thursday nights and I didn’t have anything specific to study for. He sensed my hesitation. “Look, I haven’t been out on the town since I moved here. You look like you’ll make a fine tour guide. We’ll troll for chicks for a while and who knows, we might be able to get you laid, Daisy.” He smiled at me with his shoulder raised. How could I say no to that? I would count this as my community service for the month and show the guy around some of the college bars near campus.

I agreed and he said he wanted to change, so we went up to his apartment down the street from Drip. The place was tiny, even smaller than David’s studio, although that could have been from the illusion of clutter scattered about. As soon as we got in, Ben took off his sweater, revealing a pretty nice body. He was skinny, but not bony, and his pants hung very low on his hips, revealing a nice long torso. He tossed me a Bud Light and said I could have a seat if I could find one.

I suddenly felt embarrassed for thinking this guy was hitting on me earlier in the week. I mean, the messy living space, the sloppy outfit and the fridge stocked with beer all pointed towards hetero. Even I’d learned to be gay in the two months since I’d started messing around and I didn’t think I was very good at it.

We hung around his place for about an hour, drinking beer and talking. I could tell he was jazzed about having someone to hang out with. He told me all about how he’d ended up in Dallas. He was driving from Kansas City in an old beat-up pickup truck, headed down to Austin with a couple hundred bucks and no plan. He just wanted to start a music career and he figured now was the time. Cruising down I-35, his car broke down near Dallas. He maxed out his credit card to get it fixed and figured since he was already in Dallas for an extended stay, he may as well take a break, land a job, work the scene here for a while and then proceed down when he’d saved up enough money. A couple of days later, he was working at Drip and they were letting him play his music every Thursday.

“It’s a good gig for now. I get an extra two hundred a week to play if the place fills up. I could have told you that yesterday, but I like to invite people based on my charm and skill,” he said, smiling at me.

Even though I’d decided that Ben was straight, there was a sort of awkward tension between us that I couldn’t really explain. He was a nice guy, full of energy, but I always thought he was looking at me kind of crooked. If he thought I was straight, and he thought I thought he was straight, why did I always get the feeling he was checking me out? Maybe it was because I was fighting the feeling to check him out and he was just sizing me up.

After an hour and four beers each, we headed downstairs and out to the town. I left my backpack at Ben’s, thinking I would just scoop it up on my way back to campus.

I have to confess that hanging out with Ben that night was a lot of fun. It felt good to be around someone that I didn’t know through Spencer or Kyle. I wasn’t the world’s most charismatic guy and so I didn’t make a lot of friends. But Ben was the exact opposite. He talked to everyone, had people he’d never met laughing at the bar and even got a group of girls to buy our drinks. At first I was worried about not getting in, being underage, but Ben told me not to worry about it. It turned out he’d played at a couple of bars in town and we hopped to the places that knew him.

“Well you seem to be a local celebrity,” I said to him when we went inside Harvey’s, a dive on Greenville Ave.

“No, I’m just not afraid to ask for a favor,” he said. “I’ve played for free at most of these places. If you’re nice to people, they’re nice to you.”

At some point, I stopped keeping Ben’s score. Seeing him interact with girls erased any doubt in my mind that he was straight. The guy was a straight-up Casanova, which surprised me based on how he’d been at the coffee shop. I guess when he got a little alcohol in him, he opened up and could charm the pants off of a homeless man.

At about 1:20, I told Ben that I needed to get back to campus.

“Ah, come on,” he said. “None of you guys have class on Fridays. I found us an after-party.” He was completely correct. My first class on Friday was at noon, and I still possessed the turnaround of an 18 year old. I could stay up until four or five and be set and ready for class. I agreed to go to some after-party with him, but I told him that was it.

We ended up at this girl’s apartment— just me, Ben, Kristi and Anna. In a way, it felt like the last time I was out on the town with Kyle. He’d roped us into hanging out with a couple of girls, just like Ben did. I played along, though, not wanting to betray anything about myself. Luckily for me, Anna wasn’t in the mood to get physical. We sat at the bar in Kristi’s kitchen talking while Kristi and Ben got closer and closer on the couch. To be honest, at that point I was pretty drunk. Anna was cute and nice and easy to talk to, but I really don’t remember what we discussed.

At about 3 a.m., Anna and I noticed that Kristi and Ben were making out on the couch. I told Anna that was my cue and that I’d take a taxi home. She announced to Kristi that she was heading out and I said bye to Ben.

Surprisingly, I heard Kristi say, “Yeah, I should go to sleep. It was nice meeting you Ben.” She kissed him and then stood up and walked Anna and us to the door. I could tell from the look on his face that Ben wasn’t happy about being left blue.

When it was just him and me on the street, walking in the general direction of Drip, he said, “Can you believe that chick? I totally thought I was going to score.”

“It looked like it,” I said to him. I looked at him and he had his head down.

“God it’s been forever since I fucked a chick, you know,” he said. I didn’t. “You must get girls all the time, huh, Cooper?” I didn’t know how to even begin responding to that, so I just shrugged my shoulders. “I mean that Anna girl was totally into you. It’s why they came to talk to us in the first place.” I had no clue what he was talking about. Anna wasn’t into me at all. Again I just shrugged and let drunken Ben drunkenly ramble on. He told me that he’d left his girlfriend in Kansas City and that she would still call him when she got drunk and he’d listen to her talk to him and beat off. “Most action I’ve gotten since moving to Dallas,” he said.

“I find that hard to believe,” I let slip out. “You’re really cute.” Catching myself, I added, “I’m sure the girls all think you’re just really cute. Plus, you can sing. I know girls go wet for that.” Realizing I was rambling and that we were close to his place, I just trailed off and got quiet.

“Well thanks, Cooper,” he said. “I think I’m pretty cute, too, but for some reason that’s not doing it for me here. There’s no way in hell I could be any hornier than I am right now. I’d probably do anything with anyone at this point.” And that’s when I recognized the tone. He was waiting for me to give him any indication or sign that I would be willing to help him out, and in any other circumstance I would have said something suggestive.

We walked in silence for a little bit and when we got to his apartment, I just said, “I had fun tonight.”

Ben looked at me without saying anything. I tried to read his expression, but alcohol had made his eyes narrow and red and his smile had been replaced with a straight grin. He looked like he was trying to raise an eyebrow, but I wasn’t sure. Either way, I wasn’t going to hook up with him. If I’d searched myself, I probably would have found a part of me that wanted to, but since Sunday, there was no way I was going to.

“Are you going to come up and get your backpack?” he asked me as he unlocked the door to his building. Ben lived on the third floor and the thought of walking up there and then trekking back almost made me want to leave it.

“I forgot it was up there,” I said. I followed him through the door and up the stairs, still determined not to do anything. He’s straight, anyway, I thought. Even if he was drunk enough to do anything with anyone, that didn’t mean he meant a guy.

We walked in, I grabbed my book bag and was about to turn when Ben asked, “What’s the rush, Cooper?”

“I’ve really gotta crash,” I slurred to him, thinking my only option was to leave as quickly as possible.

“Lighten up and have a seat,” he said. The only place to sit was on his mattress since he was at the desk chair. “If campus police see you like that, you’ll get a citation.” He was right. Being drunk and alone on campus was the best way to get stopped by security. And since I was still underaged, that citation would get sent home to my parents. “Just relax for like an hour and you can leave when you aren’t stumble-drunk.”

Ben had an unnatural way of making everything seem like it was no big deal. Why not just chill for an hour? I could control myself, I was a big boy. To a college kid, the difference between 3 a.m . and 4 a.m. is completely negligible.

“Let’s watch a flick,” Ben said, getting up and manually turning his small TV on. I noticed an old DVD/VHS combo underneath it that made me smile. As soon as he turned on the TV, the sound of two girls kissing came up. I looked at the screen and noticed that Ben had left his porn in.

“Shit,” he said. “I must have left this thing running on loop. My bad,” he said. He stepped back, not turning it off. Instead, he just stood there and watched it for a second. The scene was of two girls kissing with one guy eating them out alternately. I looked up at Ben and noticed a vacant expression on his face. Instead of turning the tape off or sitting back down on the desk chair, he sat down next to me on the mattress.

I scooted over to give him room. “I’ve been horny ever since that bitch left me hanging,” Ben said, sitting down. “Mind if we just watch this for a minute?”

I had no clue what to say, so I just said nothing. Part of me wanted to get up and run out of the room, but a larger part of me wanted to stay. What was the harm in being there? Two guys, watching porn, doing nothing else, no big deal, right? I mean, even Spencer and I jacked off in the same room sometimes.

I kept my face peeled painfully forward even though I was wondering what Ben was doing next to me. From the corner of my eye, I could tell he hadn’t started touching himself. The flick continued and before long, the guy on the screen was coming on one girl and everyone involved was moaning louder than was necessary. The screen faded.

“I didn’t realize that was still in there, but it was pretty hot, wasn’t it?” Ben said still sitting there. He had his knees up and his arms rested on them. “There’s another one coming up. I can put on something else if you want.”

I could tell that he didn’t want to and so I just shrugged. Taking that as his cue, Ben laid back, put his hands behind his head and watched the screen. Another scene came on with two girls and I was mesmerized. I knew I should have gotten up and gone home, but in my state, I couldn’t see the harm in watching porn with a perfectly good friend.

“Check this out,” he said. I looked to see him poking at his crotch. “I’ve been hard since that bitch let me go. Mind if just take care of this?” I shook my head no and faced the TV again, admittedly turned on. “You can pull yours out if you want. We’re two guys here, no harm in it.” I agreed with him. What was the harm in two guys stroking away at some old fashioned lesbian porn? Nothing I could think of. Sitting there and jacking off with Ben wasn’t cheating and even if Kyle found out, I’d be able to defend it.

I undid my pants and pulled my cock out of the fly. Taking Ben’s example, I laid back, used one hand to prop up my head and started stroking slowly with the other. I did sneak a peak and noticed that Ben’s dick was average sized, but uncut. I hadn’t come across that yet and for some reason it transfixed me. He noticed me looking at him and instead of saying something awkward, he just tugged it and said, “Yeah man, uncircumcised. It makes beating off easy ‘cause I never need lube.”

“How convenient,” I managed to choke out. And then Ben did something that really surprised me.

“I guess you can’t say the same,” he said, sitting up. He leaned over me and spit a huge wad of saliva onto my dick. “That’ll have to do, man. I don’t keep any lube around.”

Thinking that what he’d just done was extremely hot, I used his spit to grease up my dick. Still, I thought. Using another dude’s spit is in no way inappropriate. It’s not like he touched me or anything. We lay there next to each other stroking our dicks. I’d steal a glance every once in a while and I knew he was doing the same thing. It was impossible not to look at another guy’s dick, no matter how straight you are— or no matter what kind of relationship you’re in.

After about five minutes, I felt something that really confused me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ben wipe up some precum that had collected on the head of his dick. He massaged it around his fingers for a second and then reached over and wiped it on my cock, giving it a one or two strokes. “You looked a little dry there,” he said. “And since I don’t need any, I thought I’d help you out.”

Wow, I thought, still refusing to take on any guilt. That was pretty hot, but what’s the harm in sharing some of nature’s lube with a friend? Then Ben turned to me and said, “Dude, do you mind maybe stroking mine for a minute? It would feel really good to have someone else touch it for a change. I’ll just pretend it’s a chick or something.”

And this is when I had to make a decision. I thought, would Kyle really be upset if I stroked my new friend out? I mean, jacking off with him was one thing, but jacking him off had to be another thing altogether. But then again, it was for a good cause. This guy was clearly pent up and needed the contact of another human or he might go crazy. If I gave him a hand job, I would be saving him from going crazy and killing himself or shooting up the whole neighborhood. If I didn’t jack him off, his blood and the blood of his victims would be on my hands. I had to— I chose to have his cock in my hands instead of the blood of the neighborhood. But before I had the chance to reach over and grab it, he said, “I’ll rub you out, too, if you want. Fair trade, it’ll be like doing our own, only different.”

“Only better,” I agreed. I reached over and tugged his cock with my left hand. It did feel different, the excess skin gliding back and forth on his dick. I’d had a firm hand job before and so I was more focused on what I was doing to him rather than what he was doing to me. Thinking that I could do a better job with my right hand, I said, “Hey, let’s do it this way.” I got on my knees and so did Ben. Then, facing each other, we could each grab the other’s dick with our strong hand. As soon as I squeezed him with my right hand, Ben rolled his head back and moaned.

“You have no clue how good that feels,” he said.

“I think I do,” I countered, smiling.

“No dude, you don’t,” he replied. “It’s literally been forever since someone’s touched my cock. Even longer since I’ve had a blow job or anything, and you just stroking it feels amazing.”

When he said he hadn’t had a blow job in forever, I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. I mean, he was cute, probably used to getting all sorts of girls to go down on him and here he was in a new city with no friends or prospects. Even I, in the effort to be as faithful as possible, couldn’t say no and for whatever reason, I was convinced that Kyle would agree with me.

Without even saying anything, I bent down and took Ben’s dick in my mouth.

“Whoa shit,” he said. I sucked hard on his dick, felt him squirm and then felt him push my head off his cock. “Whoa, what the fuck are you doing, man?”

“Sorry,” I said casually. “I just thought I’d help you out a little. You said it’d been forever.”

“And I appreciate that, but I’m not a queer, or anything,” he responded to me.

“And neither am I,” I lied. “But I know how backed up you can get during a dry spell and I thought, why not. I mean, it’s not a big deal really, is it? Just one friend helping out another.” I expected Ben to say something, but when he didn’t, I added, “Just sit back and relax, man. If it gets too weird, I’ll stop. Promise.”

I looked him in the eye and gave him a sideways grin. He sat down on the mattress and scooted back. He closed his eyes and spread his legs. A second later, I dove in.

Ben had a manly scent to him that reminded me a lot of Rusty. His cock tasted saltier than Kyle’s did, but I only thought about that for a second. The less I thought about Kyle, the better. I was still just an innocent drunk guy helping out a new friend. Nothing more than that.

At first, I felt like I wasn’t doing a good job. Nothing I was doing was getting a reaction out of Ben. I’d take him all the way into my mouth and then slide up so that only the tip was in my mouth. Then I’d swirl my tongue around the head of his cock. I’d learned this move from Kyle and it drove me crazy, but I couldn’t get so much as a squirm out of Ben.

I lifted my head off of his cock and watched the hard thing flop to his stomach. I looked up at him wondering if it was even worth it to keep going. Instead of putting my mouth back on it, I grabbed him with my hand and started stroking him off.

“Why’d you stop sucking it?” he asked. “That felt amazing.”

Feeling appreciated, I put his dick back in my mouth and sucked hard. I used my hand to stroke him off and my mouth to suck it and before long, I had precum seeping out of his cock. A few minutes of diligent cocksucking later— I figured if this was a one-time thing, I may as well show him how a good a guy can get— I felt Ben pull my head off of his cock by my hair. He took two strokes of his cock and then let out a sigh. I watched as he shot a wad of cum well over his head. The second spurt landed on the side of his face. The third spurt hit him on the neck, then the chest and then the rest just sort of oozed out of his dick slowly. I fought the urge to lick the remaining juice off of his body for fear of actually freaking him out.

“Where’d you learn to suck cock like that?” he panted at me, sitting up.

“Here and there,” I replied smiling at him. “You don’t have to return the favor,” I said starting to stand. He grabbed my dick and pulled it towards him.

“Let me at least rub you out,” he said looking at me and kneeling up so that we were on the same level. “It’s the least I can do.”

I knelt there letting him fumble with my dick. To be honest, his whole technique was pretty sloppy. I mean, it felt good to have another hand on my cock, but I wasn’t in the eighth grade. I wasn’t towing the line of faithfulness for a handjob.

“To be honest,” I told him, thinking I’d try and press my luck. “It’s really hard for me to get off from just a hand job.” He cocked his eyebrow at me indicating that he was in no way going to blow me. Instead, I said, “You can say no if you want, but what if we just kissed a little.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but I could tell he was thinking about it. “I don’t know, man, I’ve never kissed a guy before.

“And I don’t usually suck on guys’ dicks,” I said, not completely lying. Three months ago, I would never have pictured myself in this situation.

“All right,” he said, still stroking me back and forth. “It can’t be that weird, can it?”

Instead of answering, I let him see for himself. I leaned in and kissed Ben, softly at first and then more aggressively. The harder I kissed him, the firmer and faster he pulled on my cock. Now we were talking. To be honest, I could feel him get more and more into it as we kept going. I didn’t know if he was just letting go and enjoying it or if he was still pretty drunk from the bar. Truth be told, at that point I didn’t care. After we’d started kissing and Ben really started going to town on my dick, it didn’t take long for me to get there. A few minutes later, still kissing Ben’s lips, I let my load go all over his sheets.

“Not bad, huh?” I said, standing up and pulling my pants up.

“Yeah, not bad,” he said, lying back down and watching me get ready to leave. I looked down at his dick and noticed that his cock was semi-hard and leaning to the side. I guess it wasn’t bad at all. I grabbed my back-pack and walked out.

As I walked home, I continued to tell myself that I’d done little to nothing wrong. Maybe kissing Ben was too intimate for a guy in a relationship, but the rest was just some friend-on-friend action. If Spencer had asked me to help him out tonight, I would have done the exact same thing. And even though I wanted nothing more than to be with my boyfriend right then, I couldn’t help but look forward to Monday when I’d need to return to Drip for some more coffee.