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    KKirk
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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. 
Mature content, explicit male-to-male sex.

How the Coronavirus Jump-Started my Sex Life - 2. Chapter 2

Mature Audiences.

In Big Trouble

“Oh my god, man!” this stud muttered in a smoky sexy voice. “You didn’t just lick your lips!”

Shit! Fuck! I was a goner! This buff dude was gonna beat me to a pulp and no one would find my body until classes start up again week after next! “Uhm,” I muttered brilliantly.

His lips curled into a grin as a small chuckle escaped his mouth. “Just from looking at you, I wouldn’t have taken you for a cocksucker,” he said softly as he placed a hand on each of my shoulders, “but clearly you are.”

I gulped. In truth, I’m not a cocksucker, but that’s not because I don’t want to be. “No,” I mumbled, “I, uh, I’ve never…”

“Maybe so, dude, but it’s clear you want to suck my cock.” His grip on my shoulders tightened. “You really can’t deny it. I see it in the way you look at me.”

I felt my cheeks burning from a rush of blood to the surface. “I don’t…” I had no words to use to defend myself because in fact he was 100% correct.

“Maybe you haven’t, but you’re going to learn how tonight.”

My heart was beating so hard I thought he’s bound to see my chest thumping. My brain was so scrambled with lust, I couldn’t formulate a sentence so I just stared at him. Why fight it? It’s exactly what I want. And him? He’s so gorgeous! Fuck, I knew I’d do anything to be with him. Shit!

“Listen, man, I’m starved so we’re going to dinner before I teach you what your throat is for.”

As if in a trance, I nodded slowly.

“I’m going to my room to put on some jeans and a shirt and grab a jacket, then we’re off. So, you’ve got 5 minutes to put your own outdoor clothes on and get to my room. Capisce?”

Still stupefied, I nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Room 315.”

“I know.”

He smirked at my confession before he released my shoulders. “Then don’t be late.”

As he walked on down the hall away from me, my attention was riveted on the perfect melons of his ass encased in skin tight grey spandex. Shit! He’s unbelievable!

After a few steps, he turned his head to about a 45-degree angle. “I know what you’re doing,” he laughed. He patted his ass with one hand. “Stop lusting after me and go get dressed!”

With effort, I pulled my eyes away from this unexpected feast of glorious manhood at its prime and stumbled back into my room. Conscious of the time limit I had, I quickly identified a pair of tight tan Levi’s and a casual shirt that was composed of one-inch stipes of maroon, red, orange, and yellow. Once buttoned, it showed off my small waistline and expansive pectorals. Pulling on brown loafers and grabbing my brown leather jacket, I headed down the hall, nervous as hell about what lay ahead.

Dinner for Two

As we walked down the stairs and onto the sidewalk leading to Central Avenue, I realized I still didn’t know this hunk’s name.

“Uhm, what’s your name?” I asked timidly.

He laughed, a full-throated and masculine laugh if I’d ever heard one. “Alan Kennedy.” He held his hand out to me. “And yours?”

“Calvin Christensen.” I took his hand in mine and we exchanged a somewhat lingering and most manly handshake.

“Is that Scandinavian?” he asked.

“Yeah. My dad is Swedish and my mom is Danish.”

“That explains your height, the gorgeous light hair, and the pale eyes.”

“I guess,” I chuckled. “Very different from you.”

“Mostly,” he nodded. “You’ve only got an inch or two on me, although we’ll see if that holds elsewhere.”

Fuck! This guy is all confidence and swagger!

“Where are you from?” I asked, knowing his accent wasn’t southwestern.

“I’m from Alberta.”

“Canada?”

“The very one. I’m spending the break here since it isn’t clear I can go home and come back with the Coronavirus restrictions.”

“Of course. I’m here for the break because my parents told me not to come home because my grandma has bad asthma, so they don’t want to take any chances.”

“Makes sense, I guess, and allows me to teach you all about servicing a man’s cock,” he said with a cute smirk.

I blushed and he chuckled at my embarrassment.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed about that with me, Cal. Hell, I’m glad you want my dick. This Spring Break just might be the hottest week of your life yet.”

“No doubt,” I mumbled, then blushed again at my seeming acceptance of this situation.

“So, your grandma lives with you?”

I nodded.

“Where?”

“Las Cruces.”

“That’s really hot in the summer, right?”

“Yep. It’s gets over 100 degrees most days all summer.”

“Thank God it isn’t that hot here.”

“I agree. It’s usually about 12 to 15 degrees cooler here.”

“Are you a city boy?” I asked.

“Yes. I’m from Edmonton, actually.”

“Is Edmonton as large as Albuquerque?”

“Larger, I’d say. It’s got a little over a million in the metro area.”

“Wow. That’s nearly double Albuquerque.”

“But it’s much, much colder.”

“Is that why you chose UNM?”

“One reason. But I love the West and wanted some mountains as well as good Mexican food.”

“You’re in the right place for both of those.”

We came to the traffic light at Central Avenue and had to wait a moment to cross. Across from us was the famous Frontier Restaurant, which had fed every New Mexico Lobo for three generations. It was still open for interior service then although it was nearly empty. We ordered our meals at the window and Alan whipped out a $20 bill to pay. The Frontier was not expensive, being a sort of 50-ish chicken and hamburger place decorated like a gigantic fast-food restaurant.

We continued talking amiably over the meal, while I kept losing myself in his amber-colored eyes. I learned that he was the only child of a physics professor at the University of Alberta and a hospital administrator at a large hospital there.

“So, your family has money,” I said.

He laughed that sexy laugh again. “I guess you could say that.” He took a bite of chicken before continuing. “We’re quite comfortable, but not exactly rich.”

“What kind of car do you drive?”

He chuckled and leaned across the table. Staring deeply into my eyes, he said quietly, “Although we are going to enjoy some very hot sex together, don’t look at me as marriage material.”

I sat back mildly stunned. “Oh, I, uh. No, I …”

He leaned back, smiling as though he had not just rained on my parade. “A jet-black Durango, 2018.”

I regained my composure a bit. “Oh, nice car.”

“Good for occasional road trips and great for fucking in the back.” He grinned seductively.

“Uhm, that’s cool.”

“If you’re nice, maybe I’ll let you experience that.”

“A road trip?”

“That, too,” he laughed suggestively.

I felt so hot inside I thought I might be sick or melt or something.

“All done?” he asked politely.

“Sure,” I nodded. “I just want to refill my Coke before we go.”

“Do mine, too,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t quite a command either.

While I refreshed our drinks, he cleaned up our table, dumped the trash, and waited for me near the exit.

Outside, the sun was almost down, the sky to the west ablaze in orange and maroon streaks. As we waited for the light, he said, “That sunset is another reason I came to UNM.”

Traffic was light and the parking lots on campus were almost empty.

“So, you know all about me now. My car and my bank balance. Why don’t you tell me who you are?”

“Okay,” I started. “I have a younger brother and a younger sister at home. My dad is a lawyer and my mom is a housewife and mother and looks after my grandma.”

“What about high school?”

“I played basketball. No surprise there.”

“No. How tall are you, anyhow?”

“6’3”.”

He nodded and grinned, “I’m sure no coach would let you skip basketball.”

I smiled. “Yes. It was not really an option, although I wasn’t a great player. Instead I was one of the better students in my class, especially in science courses.”

“So, what’s your major?”

“Biology,” I grinned. “No surprise there either.”

He chuckled. “I’m in physics, like my dad,” he said.

“Cool.”

“Now we just need a hot chem major for a three-way,” he suggested.

I almost stumbled at the mere thought. “You remember that I haven’t been with anybody before, right?”

“Yeah,” he punched me lightly on the shoulder. “But I do expect you to grow into the cock-hound you were born to be. I may need reinforcements someday.”

“Oh, shit!”

“Relax,” he practically cooed at me. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’m just going to help you realize exactly what you want and then provide the big cock you need to get what you want. That’s all.”

Soon we were back in the dorm. When we came out of the stairwell into the third-floor hallway, there were no sounds except for the gentle thud of our sneakers on the terrazzo tiles.

“It’s so quiet,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Alan responded. “It’s going to be weird all week.”

He put his big hands on my shoulders, turning me to face him squarely. “The fact that no one else is here is a good thing. We need privacy for what we’ll be doing this week and we have it without even asking for it.”

I nodded attentively.

“Now, here’s how we’re going to make this happen. I want you to go to your room, spend a few minutes tidying it up. Select some nice music. That sort of thing.” I nodded. “I’ll be down in about 10 minutes to get you and we’ll go to the showers so you can begin getting to know my body.”

I stared at him in shock at this openness. Finally, he raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

After a moment, I realized he expected an answer. “Okay,” I nodded.

With his hands still on my shoulders, he turned me toward my room and slapped me playfully on my butt. He went into his room and closed the door as I walked the 50 yards down the hall to the room I shared with Bert.

In about 5 minutes I had done the chores he suggested, tuning my laptop to my Pandora Romance station and pulling out my sexiest briefs for after the shower. I gathered my shower things and stripped off my clothes, hanging them in the closet or tossing them into the clothes hamper. Then I sat down on the edge of my bed, feeling a little silly sitting there quietly in the nude, waiting for what I could hardly imagine. My cock plumped up quickly and remained rigid the whole time I waited for Alan to initiate me into man-on-man sex.

Alan was at least 5 minutes late, which made me wonder if I had gotten the instructions wrong. Damn, I thought. At last there was a faint rapping on my door. I barely heard Alan’s knock above Passenger asking me to “Let It Go.”

I sprang up and pulled the door open.

“Nice music,” Alan nodded as he smiled. I briefly noted how extremely handsome he was when he smiled like that before my gaze dropped across firm furry pecs to a ridged abdomen, also furry, and then to a distended cock that seemed not to be fully hard but was fully impressive anyway.

“Come on,” Alan said as he turned away and started down the hall to the shower room. I followed a few steps behind, which allowed me a high-def view of his naked butt, flexing and relaxing as he strolled nonchalantly along, his flip-flops flopping as he walked. By the time we reached the door to the shower room, I had a steel-like boner that was about 6 shades redder than the rest of my skin.

Copyright © 2024 KKirk; All Rights Reserved.
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I hope you are enjoying the story of Cal and Alan as they get acquainted during the quarantine.  Thanks for reading.  Your comments are very welcome at author.Kenneth.Kirk@gmail.com .  Kenneth Kirk
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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