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.
How the Coronavirus Jump-Started my Sex Life - 21. Chapter 21
Friday
By the end of the week, Alan and I had a definite pattern going. That morning, during study time I spent a few minutes getting the gas service at the loft put into my name as well as setting up an internet package to include basic cable on the television. I realized our monthly utility bills were not going to be inconsequential. But, it was all necessities.
I spent the rest of the morning on my English Lit term paper on Agatha Christie. She was a pretty interesting character and I’d always rather liked Hercule Poirot, so it wasn’t a boring assignment, at least.
After lunch I returned to Agatha for a while, but after an hour or so, I got restless. I quit working for the day and decided to catch up with my email. The first was from Carrie.
Carriechris488@gmail.com: Hi, Cal. I hope you are doing okay and that you and Alan are getting ready to move to the cool loft on Nob Hill. I’ve been wondering. Is Alan cute? I’ll bet he’s so handsome. Those Canadians are so hot. Ryan Reynolds is dreamy, even if he is so old. Sara says Ryan Gosling is the hottest actor on the planet. He was so sexy as Ken in Barbie, but he’s actually old, too. Mom was watching that singing group the Tenors and they’re all hot, especially the tall sexy blondish guy. Well, anyhow, do you have a picture of Alan? I can’t wait to meet him when you come get your stuff. I asked Dad about having a cook-out and he and Mom both liked the idea. I talked to Sara about FaceTime and she said we should get all the girls together. So tomorrow night we are going to have Saturday Night on FaceTime. I’m so excited! Oh, Justin called me yesterday!!!!!! He’s almost as handsome as Ryan Reynolds. I can’t wait to actually go out with him. He has such big muscles. Oh, I told Mom and Dad I’m sorry about being such a little bitch about prom getting cancelled. I mean, it’s terrible, but it isn’t their fault and I should just accept it and make the best of it. Thank you for your advice, Cal. I love you!
Wow. I think she’s starting to grow up a little. I did have to agree with her assessment of Canadian actors being hot. I would also add Luke MacFarlane (who also is gay – yea!) and Tom Welling (talk about a hunk) and Keanu Reeve.
LCCal1277@gmail.com: Hi Carrie, I’m glad you are doing the FaceTime thing and getting together with your friends. I think you’ll have a great time. And if it works okay, you can suggest more regular times. I guess you’d say Alan is handsome but you can decide for yourself when you see him. Just remember, we won’t be able to get close together while he and I are there. When all this lockdown is over, I hope Mom and Dad will bring you and Cole up for a visit. You’ll like the loft, I think. Write me after your FaceTime and tell me how it went. I love you, too!
There was a welcome note from the gas company and some other spam.
I decided to do a little job hunting so began to explore on the internet. A lot of what I found were delivery jobs but they all required your own transportation. I made a note for Alan. Almost everything seemed to be temporarily closed or not hiring. I realized it was not going to be easy to find work this summer. After an hour and a half, I had located a couple of landscaping job openings and a couple of construction jobs, but most of those required union membership or certifications or at least some experience.
Finally, it was time for lunch and I closed down my search in frustration. Maybe I’d found some helpful information for Alan but I didn’t feel I’d found anything for myself yet.
Over a lunch of triple-decker club sandwiches, I shared what I had learned about delivery jobs with Alan. He said he would spend some time after lunch looking into it. As for me, he didn’t really have any ideas I hadn’t already thought of. We decided to head out about 2:30 to play tennis for a while instead of our normal afternoon workout in the basement weight room.
“How are we going to stay in shape when we no longer have access to the dorm weights?” Alan asked.
I finished chewing a bite of my sandwich while I thought about it. “I dunno,” I replied. “I mean, we can continue to play tennis as long as UNM doesn’t shut down the courts. And we can walk or jog around. But for lifting, I don’t know.”
“Yes, that’s pretty much what I was thinking, too. I think we need our own set of weights in the loft. If the local gyms were open, we could go there, but who knows when they’ll reopen.”
After some discussion, Alan decided he would buy a bench and weights since my family is providing everything else for the loft.
“That ought to get is in good shape to weather the lockdown,” I said, “if we can just get some work.”
On Court
When I went to his room to get him before our tennis match, I was stunned by Alan’s sexy outfit. He was wearing white compression shorts with legs that looked to be about 2 inches long. They set off his firm, hairy thighs to perfection, cupped his balls suggestively, and showed a nice piece of meat above the twin orbs. When he turned around, his cheeks were split by the seam of the spray-on shorts. And his loose tank-top flopped around so that you could easily see his pecs or his abs most of the time and his awesome biceps all the time.
“Damn, you look hot!” I exclaimed almost without thinking.
He grinned at me. “You can lick it all when we get in the shower after I wipe up the courts with you.”
That thought caused a few spurts of blood into my penis.
“Oh, I think you underestimate the seriousness of my prowess on the court, Mr. Kennedy.”
“Oh, yeah? We’ll soon find out.”
We took the tennis court on the northwest corner of the tennis facility and went into a very competitive match. We were pretty well matched, although both of us were badly out of practice. Several times I missed a shot because I was lusting after the vision of sexy lusciousness in front of me. Still, I held my own well, winning the first set 6-5 and losing the second set 6-4. The tie-breaking third set was mine from the beginning as he seemed to be running out of steam about halfway through. The final score was 6-3. I could tell he was a little pissed when we finished. I wasn’t sure if beating him had been a good idea.
“Congratulations,” he panted as he held out his hand to shake.
“This was fun,” I said to emphasize the fun rather than the competition.
“It was.” He nodded and grinned slightly. “You’re better than I expected.”
“Uhm. Thanks?”
“Don’t get complacent. I’ll get better as I get more practice.”
“Yeah. But don’t think I won’t get better, too.”
“Oh?” he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. “I guess we’ll find out who improves the most.”
“I guess we will,” I laughed.
Back at the dorm, we both went into stalls in the bathroom. I guess all the jumping around at the tennis court had loosen everything up inside. At first I was embarrassed to be making those farting and shitting noises beside him, but soon enough, he was matching my disgusting noises. Once my embarrassment passed, the humor in it hit me and I starting chuckling. I heard a chuckle from the next stall, which made me laugh out loud.
“What’s so funny?”
I laughed again. “This is, dude.”
“What are we in – junior high?”
“We’re just enjoying life a little. Lighten up!”
He laughed and apparently, from the loud plooping sound, he dropped a major turd into the water.
I guffawed as I did the paper work to finish the project.
We flushed at almost the same moment and then opened the stalls. As we stepped out, we looked at each other, immediately laughing.
Alan clapped me on the shoulder. “At least you can save a douche tonight.”
Instantly, I blushed. “Alan!”
“I’m just saying.”
He was right.
Our shower was very relaxed as we soaped and rubbed each other, making our muscles loosen up and allow blood to flow freely throughout our bodies. Some of that free-flowing blood turned our chubbies into stiffies within seconds.
We faced each other and I took his impressive erection into my palm, holding it and pulling on it a bit. Alan surprised me by returning the favor. We stared into each other’s eyes as we pulled each other’s cocks. We developed the same rhythm almost instinctively and, before I knew it, we were both gasping and moaning in response to our rising excitement.
When Alan erupted, semen shot out of his cockhead to splat hard against my lower belly a few inches away. The power of his orgasm was so strong that I could actually feel the impact and then the spreading warmth as it began running down across my abdomen and onto the root of my dick and then onto my balls. With my free hand, I scooped a finger-full of nature’s bounty off my belly. Quickly, while Alan continued shooting, I held my finger between our faces for a second before sticking it into my mouth.
The taste of Alan’s cum sent me over the top and I began spewing onto his belly in response. I cried out with ecstasy as six or seven strong shots coated his deflating dick with my juice. When we had both emptied our balls (temporarily), we held each other’s softening pricks for a few seconds as we stared into each other’s eyes. Alan had a vague puzzled look on his face.
Dropping my cock, Alan smiled and said, “That was nice, Cal.”
“Yes, it was.”
We rinsed off in the warm water before turning off the spigots and moving into the drying area.
Dinner
Twenty minutes later, over dinner, I asked Alan about his roommate since I didn’t even know who he was.
“Mike Otero.”
I thought through who I knew from the dorm. “Tall Hispanic with longer hair worn slicked back?”
“Yes.”
“Sometimes wears it in a short pony tail?”
“That would be Mike.”
“Are you guys close?”
“Uhm. Sorta. We get along fine. He’s a civil engineering major so we sort of speak the same language.”
“Do you hang out?”
“A little.” He thought for a moment. “Well, we used to back before the lockdown.”
“What did you do?”
Alan tilted his head to the right like a puppy that doesn’t understand his master. “Not a whole lot. We both studied a lot. We took a couple of hikes and we went to the rec center sometimes together. Took in a couple of movies. Went to Lobo games. Just typical stuff roommates do.”
“Did you and he, uhm…?”
He grinned. “None of your business.”
I was taken aback by this definitive line drawn in the sand of our communications.
“Oh, okay. Where’s he from?”
“Taos.”
I nodded. “Have you been there?”
Alan nodded. “Like a quiet Santa Fe.”
I chuckled. “You didn’t go during ski season.”
He smiled. “True.”
By this time we had finished our meal, so we gathered our dishes and headed to the dish-return window.
Back at the dorm, we got sodas and watched The Martian, the movie from a few years ago, starring Matt Damon, who always seems cute and appealing to me. I guess, being a Physics major, it’s natural for Alan to like space movies and such. I like them, too, but I’m not quite as into the astrophysics. I am always most interested in the effects of space travel on the human body. In The Martian, Matt is alone on the planet for about two-thirds of the movie, I think, and there is not too much about body responses to space except for the reduced gravity compared to Earth. The most interesting thing about it was the psychological part – talk about isolation!
When it was over, I thanked Alan for picking the movie. “I found the character’s isolation quite interesting,”
“Yeah. It reminded me of our situation a little. Sometimes it feels like there are no other people alive on planet Earth.”
I grinned at him. “Yes, sometimes it seems so weird. You know, I haven’t spoken with anyone except you almost all week.”
“We’re pretty isolated, aren’t we?”
“Yes. I guess everyone is. I mean, Bert’s going crazy since he’s only seen his family this week. My sister is going crazy for the same reason.”
Alan made my day when he said, “I’m just very grateful you stayed in the dorm after everyone left. I’d be going nuts if you weren’t around, too.”
“I know. Imagine if we were on different floors or in different halls.”
“Oh, God.” He wailed dramatically. “I’d have to take care of my own intimate needs!”
We both laughed. I looked meaningfully at him. Using the most suggestive voice I could manage, I reminded him, “You know I’m always ready to take care of your needs.”
“If that’s true, then what are you doing for the next hour?” He dead-eyed me.
I surprised and embarrassed myself when I answered without thinking, “Getting fucked?”
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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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