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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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Freshman Seminar
by Tom (tje@mail.nls.net)

***

A college freshman confides in his professor that he 
thinks he's gay. He doesn't want to be that way, but he 
fears he is. Even though the professor had up until that 
point in his life been straight, he was tempted to show 
the handsome young man that gayness couldn't be all bad. 
(MM, 1st-gay-expr, mast, oral, college)

***

It was 8 pm and the seminar was finally over. Except for 
a couple of kids who would not shut up, getting the 
other twelve to discuss the Civil War was like pulling 
teeth. The fact is that they didn't know very much about 
the subject, and so they really had little to 
contribute. I had been against the freshman seminar 
program from the first time that it had been proposed in 
the department, but I went along, even having the 
students meet at my house, which was adjacent to the 
campus.

My living room was strewn with pop cans and bowls which 
held the residue of potato chips and pretzels. I thought 
that they had all gone, and poured myself a vodka on the 
rocks, when I heard the toilet flush. Presently Eric 
entered the living room from the hallway, looking a bit 
sheepish, when he noticed that everyone else had left.

"I'm sorry Professor Brooke. I just had to go," the 
pretty boy stammered.

He was indeed pretty. His blond face had never felt a 
razor. His lips were pouty; his features symmetrical and 
delicate. There was a slight rosiness to his cheeks. The 
slender eighteen year old was a couple of inches shorter 
than my six feet. His flaxen hair was cropped short, the 
way guys wore it back in the fifties. Throughout the 
evening Eric had not said a word, although I had 
encouraged him.

"No problem, Eric," I responded, "Nature is insistent."

"I'm sorry that I had nothing to say tonight. I really 
don't know much about the subject."

The lovely boy stood perhaps two inches closer to me 
than most Americans find comfortable.

"Well, then, you might have asked questions," I 
responded in an off-hand manner, extremely conscious of 
the boy's proximity.

"I'll be better prepared next time," Eric promised, as 
he moved slowly towards the door, looking into my face 
with the most dazzling smile, which revealed an 
orthodontist's dream.

The door closed behind him and I was then alone. My 
first thought was to tidy up the living room, but 
instead I sat in my leather chair and sipped on the 
vodka. Since the beginning of the semester, since I 
first saw Eric in my class, I had been a troubled man. 
Throughout my forty years I had been a straight arrow 
about sex, and I had even disparaged gays. 

I had never had a homosexual urge, until I looked upon 
that boy, who, on the first day of school, sat in the 
front row clad in shorts and a t shirt, which revealed 
hairless, shapely limbs as alluring and sexually 
exciting as a young girl's. And that face! That 
incredible face, which appeared so innocent, yet 
suggested sensuousness. I had begun to image his pretty 
visage, when I masturbated, yet I knew that I would do 
nothing with him, because it was not right, because I 
was not gay. Still the lovely boy troubled me 
exceedingly.

My drink was almost gone, and I was contemplating 
pouring another, when the door bell chimed. As I walked 
across the room to answer the call, I noticed a book bag 
on the floor leaning against the couch. I then suspected 
the reason for this interruption. I opened the door and 
saw Eric standing there, a bit damp, because it had just 
begun to rain. A bright flash of lightening, followed 
immediately by a loud crack of thunder, startled the two 
of us and I urged the boy inside.

"I'm sorry Professor Brooke," he said as we stood inside 
the door, a torrent of rain blowing across the lawn. "I 
forgot my books."

I closed the door and said, "It seems that you're stuck 
here until the storm abates."

"If you don't mind," he responded, looking at me shyly.

Had I not known, I could not have reckoned his age. The 
androgynous boy could have been twelve or twenty, 
although he would have been large for twelve.

"Perhaps I could help you tidy up," he offered, 
immediately picking up pop cans. I joined him, and 
within ten minutes everything was put right. He then sat 
on the couch and I got into my leather chair. I tried 
not to stare at him, although he looked at me. An 
awkward silence ensued.

"I'm going to pour myself a drink," I suddenly said, 
getting up. "Can I get you a Coke?"

"I'd like to try what you're having," he responded.

"You're not old enough."

"I won't tell anyone," Eric replied softly, looking 
intently at me with a boldness that unnerved me.

I then fixed two vodkas on the rocks, large ones, and I 
brought Eric's drink to him, wondering why I was doing 
this. The pretty boy took the glass from me and gave me 
a lovely smile. I sat down on the couch, not too close 
to him, but still on the porch.

"I've never had vodka before," the boy said, looking 
into my face, not two feet away, "but I once had a drink 
of whiskey."

"Vodka can become a bad habit," I opined and sipped on 
my drink.

"Do you think that bad habits can make the world more 
interesting?" he responded, looking straight into my 
face and then taking a gulp.

"I suppose one could make an argument for that," I 
murmured, lowering my head to escape his gaze, staring 
at my glass.

I didn't know anything about this boy. I suspected that 
he was very intelligent, and I felt that he was somehow 
seductive. He was not a complete stranger to me, but he 
was not much more than that.

"Where do you come from?" I asked, needing to make 
conversation.

"A small town twenty miles from Des Moines," he replied. 
"There's not too much to the place; a couple of churches 
and a row of stores on Main street. I had to take a 
school bus to high school. I've never had a girl 
friend."

I was startled by his last comment. I looked into his 
face, but I saw no embarrassment. I could imagine that a 
boy that pretty, that gentle, might not find a girl.

"But I had a close buddy, " he added quietly. " We did 
everything together. Well, almost everything."

I saw Eric press his lips closely together and a blush 
came over his face. He stared down at his hands which 
clasped his glass.

"I think I'm gay," he almost whispered and then he began 
a soft sobbing.

"Why are you telling me this?" I demanded, perhaps a bit 
too harshly.

"I'm sorry, Professor Brooke, but I don't have anyone to 
talk to, and I thought that you liked me. I like you."

With that the boy began crying in earnest, a convulsive 
whimpering. He leaned toward me and I found myself 
holding him in an awkward embrace. He cried in my grasp 
and I marveled at the shampoo scent of his golden hair, 
at the creamy smoothness of the back of his neck. I was 
carried away by the situation; by his distraught 
feelings and by my powerful attraction to him. I put my 
lips to his soft flesh and kissed his neck. 

I licked him there, my nose nuzzling his fragrant hair. 
Eric moved closer to me so that I held him in a more 
comfortable embrace, his head against my chest, my mouth 
on the back of his neck. He soon quieted and we remained 
like that for some minutes, saying nothing.

Eric then raised his head and leaned it against my 
shoulder. My arm was around him. He looked at me, tears 
still dampening his cheeks. He looked at me, his 
beautiful face expectant, his lips slightly apart. His 
pale blue eyes invited me, and so I kissed his lips, 
gently at first, to which he responded inexpertly, 
without a pucker. He was eager for it, kissing, and I 
quickly taught him how to do it properly. We became 
passionate and soon we were trading spit. I had had a 
number of girls and women in the past, but I had never 
before experienced such excitement as I did kissing 
Eric.

Then Eric spilled his drink; on my knees, on the couch, 
on the rug. He jumped up quickly and was clearly 
abashed.

"I'm sorry," he cried. "It was so clumsy of me."

He was standing in front of me. His youthful hands had 
long fingers. I took hold of one and with a light tug 
invited him to sit with me again. He did so, and he 
snuggled to me.

I felt very nervous as I grasped the boy in my arms. He 
had a mature male body, and it disturbed me that I 
enjoyed holding him, smelling him..

"I've never done anything like this before, Eric," I 
whispered into his ear.

"I haven't either, Profes...."

"Call me Tom," I interrupted.

"Tom."

"Perhaps we shouldn't be doing this, Eric," I said 
softly, nuzzling my face against his beardless cheek.

"I won't tell anyone, Tom," the boy replied. "Besides 
I'm curious."

He then held his head apart from mine and gave me a 
mischievous grin. He was no longer a distraught boy. His 
pretty face was animated at the prospect of doing 
naughty things.

"Teach me about things. . . you know," he asked with a 
radiant smile.

There it was. An open invitation to do the unthinkable 
with this beautiful boy. For a second I hesitated, but 
only for a second.

"Can you stay the night?" I inquired, already knowing 
the answer.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, and the lovely boy snuggled to my 
embrace.

***

At forty I was a good looking guy, who appeared to be 
much younger. I was trim and blond without too much body 
hair. When I was a boy, I was almost as pretty as Eric. 
I state these facts only to explain, partially, why Eric 
would be willing to go to bed with me. But there was 
something more. Eric had accepted me as his leader, as a 
teacher whom he trusted to introduce him to sex. He had 
noticed my glances at him during the semester. He knew 
that I was attracted to him. It all fit together, and in 
the end it was Eric who was the seducer.

We had been kissing again for some time. Aside from that 
I had not done anything more than insert my hand beneath 
the top of his shirt and caress the flesh of his 
shoulder and upper chest. I had no idea what we would do 
together, to each other, although I was enflamed with 
lust by his prettiness.

"It's awkward," I almost giggled. "I don't know how to 
begin."

"Let's take a shower together," Eric suggested.

I should have thought of that! With a grin I rose and 
pulled Eric up with me, and hand in hand we walked to 
the bathroom, which had a shower in the tub. Once inside 
the room, however, we stood perplexed, unsure of how to 
begin disrobing. We were nervous, although in good 
spirits, and certainly eager for whatever it was we were 
about to do.

"Why don't I start the shower and get in," I suggested. 
"You can undress outside and then come and join me, if 
you wish."

"I'm not turning back now," he replied with a lovely 
grin, as he left the bathroom.

I turned on the shower and then undressed. My cock was 
fully engorged, jutting out over six inches. It 
embarrassed me, because I was so obviously aroused. What 
would Eric think? What were we going to do with each 
other, I wondered. How far were we willing to go? I got 
into the tub and adjusted the water to a pleasant 
warmth. I soon heard the door open and saw the shadow of 
Eric beyond the shower curtain. He pulled aside the 
corner of the curtain and poked his head in. 

I half-heartedly tried to conceal my erection with my 
hands as the boy gazed at me, at it. He then climbed in. 
He was stunningly beautiful, perfect in all respects. 
His chest was smooth and his thighs sleek. He too was 
hard and he did not try to hide it. His cock was about 
the same length as mine, although it was a bit more 
slender. Except for a modest, blond pubic bush his body 
was hairless. His flesh was so inviting. I pulled him to 
me and we kissed, our bodies, our cocks pressed 
together. I ran my hands down his back and fondled his 
soft, perky buttocks. The warm water pelted my back as 
we embraced.

"Eric," I whispered.

"Yes?"

"I want to suck you."

"Really?"

"Didn't you expect that?"

"I don't actually know what to expect."

I looked into his face, and I could discern serious 
nervousness. He had obviously not thought through the 
situation, the possibilities.

"May I suck you?"

He assented with a nod.

I lowered myself to my knees before him. His cock 
pointed at my face. 

I explored his lovely calves and thighs with my hands, 
fondling them as I had wanted to do all semester. Then 
his cock. I took it lightly into my hand and pumped it 
once, squeezing a bubble of clear liquid from his slit. 
I licked it off, savored it and wanted more. I took the 
head of his cock into my mouth and was delighted by the 
smooth texture of it. I then began to suck him in 
earnest. I could only engulf half of it without gagging, 
but that was enough for me and , apparently, for Eric, 
who began to squirm.

"Tommy!" he cried. "Do you want me to take it out before 
I come?"

I nodded negatively, my mouth still filled with his 
cock.

"Here it comes," he squealed, and I closed my throat and 
sucked a little harder. It is truly amazing how much an 
eighteen year old boy can spew. He kept coming and 
coming, filling my mouth with his semen until it began 
to drool out and run down my chin. I then disengaged, 
because I knew that his glans had become very sensitive. 

I pumped him with my hand until he was finished, 
wondering all the while what I was to do with all that 
spunk in my mouth. It was a quick decision. I spit out 
half of it and swallowed the other half. I really did 
not enjoy the taste of it, although that fact would not 
deter me from sucking Eric again, as often as we could, 
whenever we could. 

I was enflamed with lust at that moment. I needed 
relief. I stood and pulled Eric to me. I could tell by 
his limpness and his weak response to my embrace that he 
was sated and was not interested in sex for the moment. 
He would not be willing to go down on me; maybe some 
other time, but not then. I grabbed my engorged cock and 
pumped it as I held the pretty boy to me. I pumped it 
and rubbed it against the soft flesh of his abdomen, 
holding him tightly to me all the while. When I felt 
myself pass the no return point, I took my hand off of 
my cock and squeezed my body against his, my cock 
pressed to his flesh as I kissed him deeply. It was the 
most magnificent orgasm which I had ever experienced. I 
spewed onto him as we held each other in a fierce grip. 
I made noises, and I then finished myself by hand.

"Wow!" Eric exclaimed after we had calmed down.

His face was aglow and open in astonishment at what we 
had just done. He was so beautiful. Although I was then 
sexually sated, I still wanted him and I drew him to me 
into an embrace. I resisted the thought that I loved 
him, a male, however pretty. It troubled me that I had 
relished sucking his cock and that I had let him come in 
my mouth. I wasn't gay, I insisted to myself, but this 
boy turned me on.

***

We went to bed, naked, and we fell quickly asleep, the 
vodka having acted as an effective soporific. In the 
middle of the night I awoke and got up to piss. When I 
returned from the bathroom, I stood next to the bed and 
gazed at the sleeping Eric, who snored lightly as he lay 
crouched on his left side. He was a grown boy. His 
thighs were ample, muscled, as were his upper arms. Yet, 
his face appeared to be so young and innocent. 

I lay on the bed and snuggled my body to his, my cock, 
again hard, poking at his butt. I thought about the 
possibilities of having anal sex with the young man, and 
I shuddered at the monstrousness of that idea. Still, 
the thought would not leave me. I put my arm around the 
boy and squeezed to him, my rigid cock pushing at his 
ass. Eric then awoke.

"Do you want to do that? he asked uncertainly, still 
groggy from sleep.

"Do what? I responded.

"You know..." and he pushed his butt at my cock.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I know it'll hurt, but I want you to take me, to do me. 
I don't care about the pain. You can even be violent, if 
you like."

I could never be violent with that lovely boy, but his 
words enflamed me.

"Why don't you do me first?" I suggested, and I was 
immediately aghast at what I had spoken.

"Well, the problem is that if I do you, I won't feel 
like having you do me afterwards. I'm horny now, so do 
me. Later, when you are horny again, I'll do you."

The boy was wise beyond his years. I could not imagine 
being fucked in the ass without being sexually aroused.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked, licking on his 
shoulder.

"Yah! and don't be too gentle."

I got up and went into the bathroom, where I fetched a 
jar of Vaseline. 

When I returned to the bed, I saw Eric lying sprawled on 
his stomach. Moonlight illuminated his perky, creamy 
smooth buttocks. I stood above him as I slickened my 
cock with the grease, looking at him, desiring him. I 
then got onto the bed, atop the boy. My thighs pressed 
against his. The head of my cock poked his crack. I 
leaned down my head and licked on the back of his neck.

"Do it! Do it!" the boy exclaimed in a husky voice.

I took hold of my cock and found his opening. I gave him 
a exploratory poke and then I just jammed in until my 
abdomen pressed against his soft flesh. Eric cried out 
in pain as I did this, but he lay still, and he did not 
try to get free from me. I fucked the boy furiously, 
violently, biting at his neck as my cock pistoned in and 
out of him in long strokes. I had fucked before, but 
never like this. Eric was crying, but I paid no heed to 
his distress. I fucked him faster and faster until I 
cried aloud in orgasm, spewing and spewing into the 
unfortunate boy.

I had emptied myself like never before. I was totally 
sated. Eric still lay face down. I saw that my cum oozed 
out of his asshole.

"Tommy, I didn't like it, he said, tears on his cheeks. 
"It really hurt."

"Now you know what it's like. You don't have to do it 
again."

"Yah. I don't want to do that ever again."

We cuddled together and, in time, we fell asleep, Eric 
first. I remained awake for awhile thinking about what 
we had done together. It had been marvelous, but I 
didn't want to hurt him again. As I drifted off to sleep 
I decided that I wanted Eric to fuck me, to hurt me, 
like I had hurt him. I wanted to feel him inside me, 
regardless of the pain.

It was dawn, almost seven o'clock. I was suddenly awake, 
and so was Eric, who was playing with my flaccid cock.

"I want to suck you," he said, looking into my face 
seriously.

"I have your shit on my cock," I responded.

"Let's shower. I want to suck you."

We went into the shower and Eric washed me lovingly. He 
soon went to his knees and took my cock into his mouth. 
He was not very good at sucking, but his persistence 
paid off. I spewed into his mouth, a gusher of semen, 
and the boy pulled back choking. He then vomited 
convulsively onto the floor of the tub, making a 
horrible mess, which, however, was washed away by the 
shower. I pulled him up to me and we embraced.

"I'm sorry, kid," I said.

"It's not your fault," he responded. "I just had to know 
about that, about the stuff. I didn't like it at all, 
and I think that I'm not queer."

"Well, good for you. Now you can think about fucking 
pretty girls."

Eric looked me into the face and said, "I haven't fucked 
you yet."

Indeed he hadn't, and I was not at all in the mood for 
it.

I watched as Eric slowly slicked his cock with the 
Vaseline. I did not want to do it! I tried to get up 
from the bed, but he pushed me down. He was a powerful 
young man. He threw himself upon me and pushed his cock 
into my ass. He raped me. The pain was horrible at 
first, then it felt somewhat better. He plunged in and 
out of me in stinging strokes, and I pleaded for him to 
come soon. Then he cried out and pressed himself to me, 
gasping out his spurts.

Afterwards we were somewhat ambivalent about our 
relationship. I still loved the boy's sleek body, but I 
feared his cock. He got up from the bed and dressed. I 
wanted to feel his cock in my mouth again, but I knew 
that he was done.

"I'm not gay, Tommy," he said, as he straightened his 
clothes, "but I think that you are."

"Eric," I responded, "you can fuck me any time you want, 
or I'll suck you."

I was desperate. I could not lose the beautiful boy.

"Perhaps, yah, I guess I would like that, but you have 
to teach me about girls."

"Sure, I'll do that. Can you come with me to Mexico on 
Thanksgiving break? I know a very up-class place with 
really young girls."

"I'd like that," he said, buttoning the last of his 
buttons.

***

The next day Eric dropped out of school and I never 
heard from him again.

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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