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He doesn't know he's gay

An offhand observation turns out to be right
When I was a college freshman, I got to be friends with a guy down the hall who came from a place near my hometown. Although it was a big state school, it turned out we had one late-afternoon class together, and about the third week we started going out afterward for beers before heading back to the dorm.

Dan and I didn’t have a lot in common -- he had been a pretty good athlete in high school, I was more the studious type; he was religious as a kid, I never set foot in a churchl -- but we always found plenty to talk about. We both loved the outdoors, and we both liked to play cards while listening to baseball games on the radio.
We also discovered, one beer-sodden night about halfway through the semester, that neither of us were particularly experienced where sex was concerned. We were not virgins -- I had had sex several times with a high school girlfriend, he had had three or four one-night stands -- but we both admitted we were both mystified by women -- as what guy isn’t?

Dan was a good-looking guy: blond hair that never looked quite combed, green eyes, skin that always looked a little sunburned on his face and arms; medium height, slim and fit in a loose, rangy kind of way. I noticed that girls often gave him the once-over, looks he never seemed aware of.
One night at a party I was talking to a hot-looking girl -- and failing, I could tell, to arouse her interest in me -- when she spotted Dan across the room in deep conversation with a friend of hers. She took a long drink of her wine, turned to me and said, “Poor Dan. He’s gay and doesn’t know it yet.”
“Wha?” I sputtered. “Dan? Are you kidding? What makes you say that?”

“Oh,” she said, tossing her hair, “you can just tell. His mouth is saying, ‘Go to bed with me,’ but his body is saying, ‘It makes no difference if you say no.’ ”

I looked at him. Damned if I could see what she was talking about.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I mean, I don’t know him really well, but we hang out some, and he seems like a normal straight guy to me.”
She looked at me, her eyes narrowing. After a pause she said, “Then maybe you are, too.”
I laughed, a little nervously.

“Well, if I was, I think I’d know it.”

“Maybe you would,” she said, putting down her glass. “And maybe you wouldn’t.”

She walked over to where Dan and the other girl were standing, said something to her friend, who picked up her purse and got ready to leave. Dan watched them go, his face showing no expression. He looked around, saw me looking at him and smiled.

“Yo!” he said. “Let’s get another beer.”

We got several, as it turned out, and it was a long, stumbling, hilarious walk back to the dorm. I poured him into bed about 3 a.m., and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to be able to do so on his own, took off his shoes and pants. Of course I thought about what the girl had said when I unbuckled his belt and slipped off his jeans, but he barely seemed to register what was going on and I didn’t feel too self-conscious about it.

Once I got back to my own room, though, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, drunk as I was. I stripped and got into bed and, as I do most nights, started tugging at my dick. But the thoughts that came to mind were not the usual ones of my old girlfriend’s big round tits and the way she’d rub my cock against her clit before slipping it in. I kept thinking instead of Dan in his underwear, and imagining what might be underneath.

“Shit,” I thought, trying to drive the thought from my mind. “This is so wrong.”

But every time I tried to picture tits and nipples, the image would give way to a that of a cock. I didn’t know what Dan’s cock really looked like, but the brief glimpse of him in his briefs was enough to suggest it was probably a pretty big one.

And since the only cock I knew well was my own, and mine is pretty big, as I stroked myself I imagined I was stroking him. A part of my mind fought to suppress the thoughts I was having, but my dick had a mind of its own, and I realized I was harder than I could remember ever being; painfully hard, with precum leaking from my cock in a way it never had.

In the dim light coming from outside the window I could see how dark and swollen the head was, and then I realized I was moaning pretty loud. Clamping my lips shut I gave my cock a few final strokes that sent a jet of cum spurting over my chest clear to my chin. Three more spurts followed, leaving half a dozen pools on my chest and stomach.

Normally after I jack off I wipe off quickly, but not this time. My cock was still throbbing, my breathing was still heavy, and suddenly without thinking I scooped up the largest pool of cum and wiped it across my mouth.

I had never tasted my cum before -- the thought of trying it had always disgusted me -- but now I had to know. I Iicked my lips, tasting salt, and something musky, and I wanted more. I scooped another pool of cum off my chest and thrust two fingers in my mouth.

I sucked on them, imagining they were Dan’s cock, and next thing I know I was stroking myself again and in what seemed like seconds I came a second time.

“Good Lord,” I said aloud. “What the fuck am I doing?”
My thoughts were in a whirl. Never mind Dan, I thought, maybe I’m the one that’s gay. This was a possibility I couldn’t deal with, and I spent several minutes in something close to agony. I’m straight, I told myself, always have been, always will be. I had nothing against gays, but I was pretty sure I didn’t want to be one.

I couldn’t have enjoyed sex with my girlfriend so much if I was gay, could I? I tried to picture my old girlfriend’s beautiful body, but soon her tits flattened to nothing and a big throbbing cock sprouted where her pussy should be.

I don’t know how long this went on, but at some point the beer took over and I fell into a restless sleep. I woke an hour or so later with a need-to-pee boner and struggled out of bed to the bathroom. I had to wait several minutes for my hard-on to come down enough to pee, and as soon as I flushed I started getting hard again. I stalked back to the bed, cock in hand, threw myself on my back and jacked off again, images of a naked Dan floating through my mind. To my surprise it was another big cum, and I rubbed every bit of it into my chest.

What on earth is happening to me?

Next morning I woke, hung over of course, and encrusted with dried cum. I turned the shower on as hot as I could stand it, and stood there a long time letting the water wash over me. I finally toweled off, skipped shaving and went back to bed, making sure to avoid the damp spots on the sheet.

It was Saturday, so I stayed in bed most of the morning. At one point I heard a knock at the door, then another, then Dan’s voice.

“Tom,” he said. “You in there?”

He knocked once more, but I kept quiet and he went away.

I spent the next hour arguing with myself. Was I attracted to Dan? At first I scoffed at the notion, but after thinking about it realized I couldn’t dismiss it. He was a good-looking guy, no doubt about that. I liked him, sure. He was a nice guy, so why shouldn’t I? But did I like him in a different way than I liked other guys? Or girls, for that matter?

I thought so hard so long I finally started to get a headache. I got dressed and, realizing how hungry I was, went down to the cafeteria for a late lunch.

When I came back upstairs Dan was just walking away from my door. When he saw me he smiled, a little sheepishly, and said, “Hey, some night, eh? I’m still hung over. I remember walking home with you but nothing after that. I woke up in my underwear. I’m pretty sure I didn’t walk home in my underwear, so.....”

“Um, yeah,” I said. “I put you to bed.”

“Oh,” he said, a little embarrassed. “Sorry you had to do that.”

“It’s OK,” I said.

A brief silence followed.

“Well, I gotta go,” I said.

He looked puzzled.

“I got some studying to do.”
“C’mon, it’s Saturday,” he said, smiling now. “Time to chill!”
“Later,” I said. “See you.”

I opened my room door, went in and closed it behind me, but not before seeing the slightly hurt look on his face.

What that might signify I didn’t want to know and didn’t want to try figuring out. All I knew was that I need a little space, a little time not to think -- about him, anyway.

Ten minutes later I slipped out of my room and went to the library. I kept my nose in the books all afternoon though it was a beautiful late-fall day and most people were outside enjoying it.

About 6 I left for the dorm, went straight to the cafeteria and got some dinner. When I was halfway through I sensed someone standing near and looked up. It was Dan.

“Hey,” he said. “Can I sit?”
 “Sure,” I said. “Free country.”
He put his tray down and sat.

“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No,” I said.

“Yes,” he said. “What is it?”

I looked at the glop on my plate.

“Nothing,” I said.

He didn’t believe me, I could tell, but he let it go.

“Hey, a bunch of us are going to a party off-campus tonight. Wanna go?”
I started to say no, but by this time I was tired of being a grump and said, “Sure, why not?”

He smiled, said, “I’ll pick you up at 9.”

The party turned out to be a drag, but something totally unexpected happened: two girls picked us up. Mine was a slightly plump, curvy thing with long dark hair; Dan’s was a tall, willowy blonde. We went back to their apartment and, after a couple glasses of wine and two joints, paired off into separate bedrooms.
I had a rollicking good time with my girl, who just loved sucking my dick and practically screamed when I finally put it in her. From the other room I heard sounds of giggling, then low moaning and finally a high-pitched squeal as the girl came.

“This is more like it,” I thought.

A few minutes later I got up to pee and, thinking the coast was clear, decided it was safe to slip into the bathroom naked. But when I pushed the door open Dan was standing at the toilet with his dick in his hand; he must have just finished pissing, but his eyes were closed and he was giving his half-hard dick a stroke more like jacking than flicking. Yep, I thought, pretty nice cock, and I felt my own cock give a jump.

He turned with a start and caught me looking at him. I started to mumble an apology, but he just smiled, looked briefly down at my cock, and turned to flush the toilet.

Then it happened. As he turned to leave the bathroom, I flattened myself against the door jamb so he could get by. But instead of turning his back to me and sliding past on the other side, as I probably would have done, he turned to face me, looked me straight in the eye and slid by not more that a few inches away.

As he did his half-hard cock brushed against mine. It was on purpose, no doubt about that. The feeling was electric. I drew a sharp breath, half-closed my eyes and, without thinking, reached out to touch him. But my hand closed on air; he had already slipped into the other bedroom.

I stood there for a second, rooted to the spot. My cock was getting hard again, and for a second I thought about jacking off right where I stood. But I recollected myself, took my piss and went back into the bedroom where, seeing my still-stiff cock, the girl insisted on having another go.

The walk home afterward was not the long, quiet, awkward one I expected. Dan talked animatedly about the girls, whom we had promised to see again, and cracked half a dozen jokes I’d already heard him tell. I couldn’t help laughing with him, and soon I forgot my own awkwardness. Neither one of us said anything about our encounter in the doorway.
When we got to the dorm, though, Dan grew quiet. We went upstairs and headed down our hall. I stopped at my door and turned to him.

“It’s still early,” I said. “Should we find get another drink somewhere?”

“I could use a shower first to clear my head and get the girl-funk off me,” he said.

“Good idea,” I said, opening my door.

To my surprise Dan followed me in.

“How about I just shower here?” he asked.
“Well...OK, I guess,” I said.
Dan followed me in and shut the door behind him.

“You go first,” he said.”

He sat on the bed, picked up a magazine and started leafing through it. I kicked off my shoes and stepped into the bathroom to turn the water on. While I waited for it to heat it up my thoughts went into a whirl. Where should I undress?

I didn’t really want to strip in front of him, but undressing in the bathroom would seem kind of squirrely. But if I went back in the room now would it look like I was coming on to him? Did I want to come onto him? Was he coming on to me?

Fuck it, I finally decided. I stepped back into the room, opened the dresser drawer, pulled out a clean T-shirt and boxers and laid them on a chair. I slipped off my socks, unbuckled my jeans and let them fall to the floor. As I pulled my shirt over my head I got tangled briefly in a sleeve, and when I got free I saw he was looking at my crotch, which was beginning to bulge in a big way.

I hesitated for a second, then slipped my fingers into the waistband of my shorts and pulled them down, looking away so as not to see whether he was watching.

“I think I need to pee first,” I said.
“Me, too,” he said. “You go ahead.”
After I flushed I turned around to go back to the room. Dan was standing in the doorway, naked.
“Go ahead and piss and then I’ll get in the shower,” I said.

As I moved to the doorway he turned his back against the door jamb the way I had at the girls’ an hour ago. His semi-hard cock was sticking out in front of him. Without thinking I turned to face him the way he had faced me. And when I got close I made sure I brushed my cock against his.

Again I felt that electric thrill. I stopped, and after the briefest of pauses pressed my body against him. I put my hands on his shoulders and rubbed my cock against his. He ground back, and put his hands on my ass to bring me in even tighter.

To this point we hadn’t looked at each other, but now my eyes sought and found his. Before I realized what was happening he leaned in and kissed me.

Now this was something I had never thought about, even the night before while jacking off to an image of Dan’s cock. If you had asked me at any previous point in my life whether I could ever kiss a guy, I would have scorned the suggestion. But now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do, and I kissed him back passionately, pushing my tongue into his mouth and letting him do the same to me.

The next five minutes were a blur. Our hands found each other’s cocks, already rock-hard, and madly stroking each other we fell onto the bed. He laid me on my back, flopped on his side next to me and took both our cocks in one hand, rubbing them together while we kissed with more passion than I’d ever kissed a girl. Then he pulled away, and the next thing I felt was his mouth on my cock.

I groaned. The feeling was unbelievably intense. My old girlfriend had sucked me a few times, but always reluctantly and never for more than a few seconds. Dan sucked me greedily, taking me deep into his throat while his tongue whirled madly on the shaft and head. He stopped briefly to lick and suck my balls, then took me in his mouth again.
I was in ecstasy. All the energy in my body seemed to have collected in my dick, and I could feel it swelling as my orgasm built.

Less than a minute later, with a writhing, violent shudder, I came with a groan. To my surprise Dan didn’t pull away, but drank my cum, pumping me as jet after jet poured into his mouth. When at last he raised his head he looked at me with a smile.

“Oh my God,” I said. “Oh my frickin’ God.”

Dan laughed, and then I did, too.
He leaned back, looking down at his still-unsatisfied cock, purple and straining with excitement. He looked at me and said, “You can just jack it if you want.”

“You kidding?”

I took him by the shoulders and rolled us over -- damn near dumping us on the floor in the process. Straddling his knees, I dived for his crotch. I had never done this before, of course, but I had a pretty fair idea of how it worked. I went for his balls first, licking them one by one and rolling them gently in my mouth. I pushed his sack up to lick underneath and, when he parted his legs slightly, tongued him vigorously as far as I could reach. I breathed deeply, scenting the scent of the blonde’s cunt mixed with his own faintly musky smell.
Then I did it. Hovering over his twitching cock, I licked it from base to tip in one long, slow movement. I thought to myself, not quite believing it, I'm actually about to give a guy a blow job.

Dan groaned, and I licked him again, and once more after that. He started writhing underneath my touch, so I grasped his straining cock with one hand and guided him into my mouth.

A strange taste, I thought -- a little salty, a little musky, an even stronger trace of the woman, which turned me on even more. I moved my head up and down, working a little farther each time, until he went so deep I gagged. But after a few seconds more I got the hang of it, and started pumping that wonderful dick of his like I’d been doing it all my life.
Dan was almost whimpering now, straining to push deeper into my mouth, and I let him take over the movement. I reached up with one hand and gently twisted a nipple, which earned me a long moan of pleasure, and cupped the other hand around his balls. Soon I felt them tightening, and knew he was close to coming.

Dan put his hands on my head and started to lift me off of him, saying, “You don’t have to,” but pushed his hands away and swallowed him as deeply as I could.

Seconds later he came, his hips thrusting, a sound almost like sobbing seeping through his lips. A blast of hot jizz shot into my mouth, and then another, and another, till it was filled almost to overflowing. I swallowed it, every drop, and milked him slowly to get the rest.

 Soon he was spent, I let him go, and slumped on the bed next to him.

“Jesus,” he said. “Wow.”

I turned slightly so that we were both on our backs, my left leg draped over his right, my hang still cupping his rapidly deflating dick.

Minutes passed.

“That was some kind of intense,” he said. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“You ever done that before?” I asked.

He hesitated.

“Yes, actually, a couple of times,” he said. “You?”

“No, never,” I said.
“Seemed like you knew what you were doing,” he said playfully.

“I had a good teacher,” I said.

We lay there a while longer.

“So are you gay?” I asked him.

For a moment he didn’t answer.

“Like I said, this isn’t the first time I’ve been with a guy. But I like girls, too. This was more fun than banging that blonde, but....shit, I don’t know. It’s confusing. What about you?”

“Well, this is my first time, like I said,” turning to face him. “But I hope it won’t be the last.”
He smiled.

“No, it won’t,” he said.

“If that makes me gay,” I said, “well...I’ll deal with that later, too.”

I leaned in to kiss him. It was a long kiss, almost a loving one.

“You know,” I said, “a girl at that party last night said you were gay and just didn’t know it.”

“Yeah? What’d you say?”

“I said I was sure she was wrong. Then she said I might be gay, too.”

“Hmph,” he said. “Smart girl.”

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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