First Time Secrets (Vol. 1 – Study Break)

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First Time Secrets (Vol. 1 – Study Break) Page 1

by Mason Lee




  First Time Secrets

  Vol. 1 – Study Break

  By Mason Lee

  © 2014

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This story is intended for mature adults only. It contains sexual scenarios, dirty language, hot action, and much more! Please store your digital files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  And above all – Enjoy!

  Vol. 1 – Study Break

  David has always known that he was attracted to men. However, growing up in a strict, religious home, he is so closeted that now that he's started college and finally free, he's almost afraid to indulge himself in his true desires.

  Although temptation is all around, he finds himself drawn to a handsome professor with a reputation for seducing younger men and a frightening, though exciting, dark side. When David gets too close to the flame, he turns to another young man, like himself, for comfort…and more.

  Can David play with fire without getting burned…?

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  Vol. 1 – Study Break

  He was grateful that he was sitting at the desk so that no one else knew that he was this aroused, painfully so, as a matter of fact. It was the second time this week that he'd been in Professor Kaufman's class and David did nothing but daydream and try to hide and adjust his hard-on.

  The man walked across the front of the lecture hall like a jungle cat; as if he were hunting, and David found himself wishing he were prey. He also found himself wondering if his heart thudding this loudly in his chest was a result of the slow porn movie images that were sliding by one-by-one in his imagination or if it was a warning of an impending fight or flight instinct about to kick in.

  He lingered after the lecture, studying the man that he had felt so drawn to; they were a study in contrast. Where David was thin and small and light brownish-blond, Professor Kaufman was tall and broad with a mass of thick, black hair and full lips. David had the appearance of someone far younger than twenty-one, with a sprinkle of freckles across his nose and cheeks and the light blue eyes that were too big for his face. Professor Kaufman was well muscled and, at this moment, David was lost in the flex of his forearms, when he wrote, when he picked up his briefcase and, apparently, when he reached out for his lover to grab him by the waist. The other man had entered and approached the Professor with a familiar smile. Professor Kaufman pulled him in close by the belt buckle with a look that was pure lust and David watched, holding his breath, as they kissed.

  When he saw Professor Kaufman suck on the young man's bottom lip and pull it with his teeth, David let out a gasp. As soon as he heard that it happened, he tried to slip out quietly, ashamed that he was watching the lovers. Too turned on to stop, he was out of his desk and had turned toward the door when he heard the Professor ask, “Can I help you, young man?”

  David turned around slowly, as if he were almost frozen and couldn't find his voice. When he finally did, the words simply squeaked out, “No, sir, I'm sorry for interrupting.”

  The Professor smiled. It was all teeth and David imagined the sharp, white points on his own lip and then trailing down to his neck and he quickly forced himself to stop and take short, quick steps backward before he couldn't leave at all.

  “What's your name?” the Professor was watching him leave.

  “David,” he squeaked again, and for a moment, he wasn't able to even remember the rest, “David Reed, sir.”

  “Well, David, class is over, but I have office hours later,” his eyebrow had moved up, arched, and his dark eyes were taking in every inch of David, “come by any time.”

  His attention returned to the young man that he still held in his grasp and David knew he had to run away as fast as he could before things got any more awkward for him.

  Alone in his dorm room, David could finally breathe again and, lying on his bunk bed, he closed his eyes and returned to the images that had made him lose his voice and tremble all the way down to his toes.

  He saw the Professor grab him roughly by the front of his shorts and pull him into his strong arms and, without a word, the man's mouth possessed his. David would simply part his lips and accept the bite and the wet tongue that explored his insides. Never having kissed a man yet, he would let his professor guide him, and David could see his hands reaching up to embrace the man. One would land in the Professor's mop of hair and one would be touching his muscled chest, feeling the man's heart pounding under his hand.

  In his mind's eye, the Professor's hand that was wrapped firmly around his waistband would grab the fabric and tug it down as David did at that moment to free his pulsing erection. The man would know exactly how to touch him. His skin would be hot and the sensation would be almost overwhelming as the Professor took his cock in the same way as he had his lips and tongue.

  David was easing his own hand back and forth, stroking slowly up his shaft and seeing the man take control of his dick, making David moan as he cupped his balls and then slowly worked his way back up to touch the wet drops that were leaking and running down the length of him. The Professor would want more though, much more, and David somehow already knew that he'd cum in his own hand while the Professor turned him around, his bare ass exposed and with his teeth now dragging across the tender skin on the back of his neck, he'd find the boy's other tight hole.

  He would bend over and beg, yes, and please, even though he was unsure and his legs were trembling. Once the Professor's long index finger touched the pink, tender skin around his opening, David would give in completely. He worked furiously back and forth on his erection as the pictures swam around in his mind, squeezing his tool tight and hearing the wet noises that came from the back of his throat. He was moving his hips back to give the Professor more. His tight hole was open and hungry and he'd never felt this sensation that felt like electricity ride up and down his body.

  When David came, he was loud and the hot dash of cum spilled across his pelvis and then up to his stomach and then puddled in his hand. He was panting and heaving and alone, as usual. The fantasy melted and David smiled sadly to himself as he realized that this crush, like all of the other past ones, would pass by unfulfilled.

  In the shower, David reviewed the list of disappointments since his first and only girlfriend had told him, despite whatever he had told himself, that he was gay. The truth of the matter was that no matter what he got off to in private, to the world, and especially in his hometown, where his parents were busy doing God's work, he could never be gay. It wasn't even a consideration.

  The flirting would start every time he'd meet a man he was attracted to. His secret longings would become obsessions. The curl of the other man’s lip, the line down his back, the back of his thigh, all the things the David imagined he would say. None of them ever came to fruition. Buried in the closet, he had never even made a move. In the two months that he'd been away at university, far from the roving eyes of family, no matter how free and open everyone else appeared to be, he was still the lone
ly voyeur. Watching lovers everywhere, like the Professor and his young boyfriend, was the extent of the pleasure that David could allow himself to experience.

  When he turned around, the water streaming down his back, he found that he wasn't alone. The communal bathroom was still something that he found unnerving and David tried to use the space at odd times in order to avoid a situation like this. He saw the young man on the other side of the tiled space and wondered if he had been looking at David when he had been turned around and unaware of his presence.

  David watched the water slide and caress every inch of the other man's body. He was tan and taller and more muscular than David. His round ass flexed when he turned and soaped and David could feel the effects of staring at him between his legs. He turned off the water and grabbed his towel before another embarrassing erection occurred and when he stood in front of the mirror, combing his hair and brushing his teeth, the man from the shower walked around the corner and joined him.

  He caught David's eye in the mirror and tilted his head.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey there.”

  David tried not to be obvious as he watched the boy, dressed in only a towel, as he was, the dip of his triceps, the valley up the middle of his chest, the scant trail of hair that started at his belly button and worked its way down to places unseen but imagined quite vividly.

  “Aren't you in Kaufman's freshman psych class?” the boy asked.

  “Yeah,” David cleared his throat, “it's murder.”

  “Right?” the boy walked toward him now. “I'm Dean, what's your name?”

  “David,” he shot his hand out to shake Dean's but got an awkward high-five in return.

  “Can you help me, man? I'm gonna crash and burn in that class. This paper he wants us to write is killing me,” Dean still talked to his reflection rather than to his face.

  “Um, sure,” David was a jangle of nerves inside, “I'd be happy to.”

  “Cool,” was the response, “how about Saturday afternoon?”

  “Cool,” David copied his tone exactly.

  David gave him his room number and excused himself before he gave away any embarrassing secrets.

  *****

  Two days later, David found himself outside of Professor Kaufman's office door. Office hours were listed, from 4:00 to 7:00. It was only 3:45 and David's palms were already sweaty; it was difficult to hold the laptop and the book. He sat down in one of the old, wooden chairs that were lined up outside his door. He jiggled his knee up and down, told himself to stop and found that he started again immediately.

  What was he doing here? He had made up the cover story and rehearsed it line by line over the last day, editing and re-editing until it sounded perfect. He was such a mess still. His pulse throbbing in his throat, his heart racing at a hundred beats a second. He wasn't sure that he'd be able to speak when the time came.

  It was 4:10. David had checked his phone at least twenty times since sitting down and he had finally convinced himself that he should just leave. The Professor wasn't coming and at least this way, he had avoided making a complete fool of himself.

  “David?” the voice was unmistakable and a chill crept down his neck when he heard it; the older man remembered him.

  David turned around slowly, as if his being here were all coincidence, and smiled.

  “Professor Kaufman, hello.”

  The Professor looked him up and down for a moment and flashed the teeth at him before unlocking his door, “Did you need me?”

  All of David's responses, from the polite to the perverse, flooded his brain and all he could do was nod yes.

  “Actually, David, I wanted to talk to you anyway. I'm glad you stopped by.”

  The door was open now and the Professor was waving him inside. His large hand on David's trembling shoulder seemed to burn through his clothes.

  “Sit,” he motioned to the worn, brown leather couch to the right of his desk and, once David sat, gingerly and on the edge, the Professor plopped down next to him, legs apart, one thigh almost touching his, arms along the expanse of the upholstery. He looked David in the eye when he asked, “You didn't come to talk about class, did you?”

  David let the strap from the shoulder bag slide down his arm, his bag falling to the floor. He felt goose bumps raise the downy, white hair on his forearms.

  “It's okay, David. I saw you watching Miles and I. The way you looked at us. It was obvious…” he glanced down at David's crotch; he wondered if the Professor could see his cock jolt suddenly, “that you were turned on.”

  “Well…yes,” David mumbled, his eyes to the brown material they sat on.

  “So, let me guess. Gorgeous boy like yourself,” the Professor's hand was on his chin now, lifting his face so that he had no choice but to look into the large, dark eyes that were filled with something fierce David had never seen, “shy, quiet, first time away from home. You're a virgin - am I right?”

  He wouldn't let David look away and he whispered as he stared, “Yes, that’s right.”

  His body was moving back and David didn't realize that it was the Professor who was pushing him to lie down until it was too late and he felt the cool leather touch his hot neck.

  “That's it, relax, David,” his voice was low and calm and the sensation of the man's breath on David's ear made him pant with lust.

  “So, you like to watch, do you?” he murmured and then without waiting for the answer, the Professor's mouth opened and the teeth scraped along the ridge of David's bottom lip, then the molten tip of his tongue licked where he had just nibbled.

  “You've never even kissed another man, have you?”

  David wasn't sure if he looked amused or was just completely turned on.

  “A girl,” he was breathing fast when he spoke, “I kissed my girlfriend.”

  The Professor chuckled, “Well, you had a girlfriend, how sweet. But you never really liked girls, did you?” he pulled David's top lip up now between both of his own. “When you were at home alone, you only thought about a man.”

  David's face was red; he felt far too vulnerable like this, the man handling him so well and knowing all of his secrets in just a minute. He still shook his head yes though.

  The Professor sat up suddenly and kept his eyes on David.

  “Show me.”

  “What?” his heart was beating far too loud; he must not have heard correctly.

  “Show me what you did after you watched Miles and I,” the Professor said, and his voice had an edge now that David felt must be obeyed.

  “Show me what you did when you were thinking about being him.”

  He was directing him and once the Professor gripped the top of his pants and unbuttoned the button, David unzipped and the moan that he heard was his own.

  David slid down his underwear next and his cock sprang free. He was as hard as he'd ever known and already soaked with precum. His balls were drawn up close and he knew that if he touched himself, it would only be a minute or two before he was spurting his load all over himself and the couch.

  “Beautiful cock,” the Professor said, staring at his nakedness. He looked to be starving, eying David up like a panther would something smaller and defenseless.

  “Show me, David.”

  It wasn't a request. David squeezed his hand tight around the base of his dick and felt the liquid run from his slit as he slowly worked his hand up and down, unable to take his eyes off the Professor, remembering every second of his vivid fantasy, of the man fondling him and then fingering him. David moved his hips up off the couch at the thought, hoping that somehow, without saying, the Professor would know what he needed so desperately.

  Professor Kaufman didn't move though and David couldn't ask, so he continued to pump his engorged dick back and forth in his hand and show the man his desires. Heaving and groaning now, he could feel his orgasm begin.

  “Knock, knock. Are you in?”

  It was a man's voice and not a knock at all and David yelped whe
n he heard footsteps and then the boyfriend came into view. The young man the Professor referred to as Miles bent down and kissed the man on the forehead but before he had withdrawn from the embrace, a look of surprise and anger came over him.

  “What the fuck is this?” he demanded.

  “Miles, you ruined it.”

  The Professor hadn't looked up at his boyfriend and instead had continued to watch David masturbate, and now, just hold his softening dick in his hand.

  “This is David. He's a virgin,” his voice was low and it sounded like he had stopped breathing.

  “Every time I turn around, you're pulling some bullshit like this.”

  The boyfriend was fuming and David pulled up his pants as quickly as he could with his trembling fingers and his racing heart. He sat up and grabbed for his bag on the floor. Miles suddenly turned his red face to David and yelled, “You're not special, just so you know. He'll turn you out and then he'll move on to the next one!”

  “Hush, Miles, you're scaring him,” the Professor was clearly enjoying the exchange. His own cock was at attention in the crotch of his pants and David noticed that it looked enormous and thick and hated himself for thinking that when he should only be running for the door. “David's a sweet boy,” his teeth were showing again when he added, “like you used to be.”

  “You fucking asshole,” Miles had made a fist with one hand and David finally had the strap back over his shoulder and his laptop in the other hand. He fled without looking back to see what would happen next.

  *****

  Hours later, naked in bed, David was almost asleep when he heard the knock. He turned to the wall and intended to ignore it. People were always roaming the hallways at night, drunk, looking to score or party and none of them would be looking for David. The knock came again, louder.

  “I'm trying to sleep!” he shouted before pulling the blanket up tighter.

 

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