by Mason Lee
“It's Dean.”
David didn't know if he felt flattered or annoyed but he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and held it closed over his chest and shuffled to the door.
“What's up?” he asked, sleepily
“Just wanted to say hey, dude. Sorry, you really are sleeping.”
The young man was only wearing a pair of gym shorts and his chest, which David remembered vividly from the shower, was in clear view and when David felt his cock move under the blanket, he opened the door wider to let him in.
“Do you want to work on your paper right now?” he asked as he shuffled back to his bunk, sat and drew the blanket tighter around him.
Dean sat next to him, closer than should be comfortable, and David felt his hand around his shoulder and then the quiver that ran down his back told him that this was nothing that he had expected but everything that he had wanted.
Without a word, Dean's mouth touched him. They kissed with only their lips, hot and sealed against each other, until Dean's soft tongue appeared and pressed against David's closed mouth. His lips parted with a sigh and he felt the boy in his mouth, the velvet tongue sliding up along his own and then back to the tip. David's cock leaked in the blanket and rose fully, once again, in the folds of the fabric.
“No, I don't want to work on my paper,” Dean whispered hotly in his ear before returning to his mouth.
Sucking David's tongue into and then back out of his mouth, he laid David's body back on the bed and the blanket that was separating them fell open. The kiss continued and their bare flesh was pressed together. David's dick was touching the head of Dean's hard cock through his shorts and he was compelled to reach down and push the shorts down so that he could feel every inch of him.
Naked and hard, skin on skin, Dean's head was traveling down on David's body and when he felt the hot, wandering tongue on his nipple he heard himself whisper “Yes.” He was writhing under Dean; his touch was almost too much and when he felt the young man's hand wrap around his dick, it sent him almost immediately over the edge.
“Wait,” he pleaded. If he was going to let himself go this far, he would ask to do the thing he'd always wanted but never dare say. “Let me go down on you,” the words seemed to linger in the air and the boy was silent.
Dean rolled over and let David have his way. David started at his neck, pressing his dripping erection against Dean's hip as he licked and tasted every bit of his skin, smelling him, working his way down the middle of his chest, running his tongue along the valley between his pecs, the line that ran down his sculpted abs. He could feel Dean's hard cock on his neck and he kissed inch by inch down the soft trail of hair that led him straight to the place he had most wanted to taste.
David touched the cock, with one finger, tracing from the tip to the base, hearing Dean moan when his lips did the same. David returned to the head of his pink dick and saw the clear, salty liquid that dribbled from his slit there and licked it, tasting it on his tongue, then licking up the droplets that had replaced it, the taste of the boy in his throat now.
David flicked his tongue back and forth over his wet opening and when he couldn't hold back another minute, he opened his lips and took the hard head inside. His mouth, unaccustomed to sucking cock despite how often he dreamed of it, worked him in slowly. His tongue explored the ridge under his head, running in a soft, wet circle around the tender skin there, he heard David exhale loudly and cry, “Oh my God,” before he took in the first two inches of his throbbing shaft.
As he moved down his length, he soaked Dean's dick with his saliva and soon the wet noises grew louder and louder as he moved up and down, driving down further. He felt the boy's head touch the back of his mouth and he tasted the silky brine drip inside him. He took his mouth off completely and held Dean's cock in his hand while he licked up one side of his shaft and then the other, looking up to watch the expression on Dean's face. He was lost in ecstasy, his eyelids half closed and his mouth open, his breath sharp and fast.
David closed his lips around him again and started bobbing his head quickly, sucking him in to the base of his shaft, almost gagging, but slowly, he relaxed his throat so that he could continue. He increased his tempo again and now he could take the cock almost into his throat and his lips were sealed around the bottom. He only moved his head now as his tongue worshiped the boy's hard, satiny flesh.
“Jesus, you're gonna make me cum,” Dean's thighs were flexing and his stomach contracting and David tasted the first creamy drop at the back of his mouth before moving up and feeling the first full spasm. He swallowed the cream and took the next splatter and the next. Dean came in long, hard spurts and he tasted as sweet as David had imagined.
David kept him in his mouth until the last shudder of his climax had left him and with one last, longing lick of the first dick he had ever sucked, he moved back up on the bed, his arms around Dean's waist and his face next to the young man's on the pillow.
They kissed again, slowly this time. The urgency had been replaced with something far more tender and David fed him the salty traces that coated his tongue. This time when Dean's hand traveled down the length of his body and found his erection, David lay back in the young man's strong arms and gave in to the touch.
It was the first hand that had ever touched his cock besides his own, and the boy's fingers felt strange on him at first but when he held David's dick tighter in his grasp, he raised his hips up and down for Dean, moving in and out of the young man's grip, his hot palm against his shaft. David was immediately back in Professor Kaufman's office in his mind.
David groaned, half in want and half in shame. This was real now. The taste of the cum in his throat confirmed it. He fought to stay here, on the bed, with the boy, his first lover.
“You like that, don't you?” Dean whispered and in David's mind it was the Professor asking him, his teeth shining, his full lips drawn back, his black eyes studying his body and his hand controlling it.
“Yes,” he panted, giving himself over to the Professor's fingers that knew him so well although he'd never touched him. Raising himself up on his heels, he drove himself back and forth in the man's hand and ached as he tried to keep himself from exploding too soon; he wanted it to go on and on.
He raised his legs higher. If he couldn't ask for it, he'd hope that the Professor knew with his gesture what he longed for most. The hand worked his cock quickly and then the hand slowed down, the Professor was sucking on his finger and running the tip of it around his tight, never opened anus.
He wanted to beg and scream for it and give directions and ask to be fucked and opened and taken but instead he only whimpered as the boy's thick finger slid inside. His hand still possessing his dick, now he had taken his asshole. David was a mass of electric sensations. He shivered. He tensed and thrust his hips forward to take more of the finger inside.
David knew that he couldn't hold back much longer and bit his lip and pushed down so that the finger reached a place deep inside that sent the vibration through his hole and pulse quickly and urgently down the length of his dick. He imagined the Professor would watch him unload and hear him cry for more as he broke his cherry.
“I'm cumming,” was all that he said and he tightened his ass around the finger as the wave rocked his body and he felt his orgasm rip through his cock in hard gushing pulses. The hand loosened its grasp and slid up to David's head, milking every last drop out of his cock, while the finger slowly retreated and David was suddenly back on his bed. His loud gasping breaths were the only sound and the face he saw staring down at him was Dean's.
They stayed for a while in each other’s embrace. Dean cradled David's head and pressed him to the place that David could best hear his heart. Sticky and sweaty, their skin stuck together and their mouths never parted for long. David looked up and asked, “So, did you ever really need help with your paper?”
Dean laughed and rolled on one arm, facing David now.
“No, but I do hate that fucking cl
ass. And Kaufman gives me the creeps.”
The mention of his crush's name made his cheeks burn and he knew he couldn't let it go, “Why?”
“Well, I'm sure you've heard all the stories about him, right?” Dean seemed to have inside information that now David found himself desperate for.
“No, I haven't heard anything,” he said, suddenly realizing that his escapade on the man's couch seemed to indicate that there, of course, would be more secrets.
“He's into young guys, they say. Perfect job for a pervert, right?” He wasn't really expecting an answer and continued, “And last year, one of his flings committed suicide after Kaufman dumped him. You know, a student, like our age,” he shrugged as if he didn't understand what a boy their age would be doing with someone that much older. “He fell in love with Kaufman, Kaufman fucks him, dumps him, and then they find the guy in his room,” he paused as if there was something else to remember, “he hung himself.”
“Didn't they investigate it?” David wanted to know every nuance, every word.
“I guess they just figured, hey, it's one more fucked up gay kid. Whatever, the guy is fucking strange,” Dean lay his head back down and his hand was on the center of David's chest when he kissed his ear.
“I better go and let you get some sleep,” Dean said as he moved to a sitting position.
“I guess,” David sounded needy to himself when he heard the words come out and attempted to sound more casual, “Yeah, well, thanks for stopping by.”
It occurred to him at just that moment that Dean had never spoken a word about seeing him again or what this was or a million other things that David wished that he had the answer to.
Dean kissed his cheek before leaving and seemed to know what was troubling him when he whispered, “That was very hot and I hope you'll let me stop by again.”
“Yes, any time,” David said before he watched the young man walk down the hall.
*****
David was typing on his laptop when the email notification blinked at him from the bottom of his screen. When he opened it and read the name of the sender, he could hear his pulse again in his ears. Charles Kaufman had sent him a message and, as he read it, he could picture the man's dark eyes and mischievous grin watching him back.
David,
I wanted to apologize for the little disruption in my office the other day. I was truly disappointed. I'm having a small party at my house this Saturday evening and was wondering if you would like to stop by? I'd love to see you again.
At the bottom of the message was the address and directions, and David must have read the message fifty times before he could close it. When he thought of last night and Dean and the hope of being wrapped in the sheets with him again on Saturday as they had initially planned, he knew he couldn't go to the Professor's house. Just the idea seemed dangerous.
On the other hand, when he thought of the Professor watching him on the couch and how close he had come to begging him for everything he had always wanted and then remembered all the dirty, shameful thoughts he'd had when Dean had touched him, he realized that there was absolutely no way that he could stay away.
Saturday would come, and David had a choice to make.
To be continued…
*****
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