B & G Read online

  “Aha!” he said, grinning. “That explains a lot. But what happened to change your plans?”

  “I wonder whether you’ll understand this.” I went over and poked the logs, so the fire, after sending up a cloud of sparks, flamed brightly again. “My grades at Miami were good enough that I got a teaching fellowship at OSU.”

  “And?”

  “By the time I was ABD, I’d seen enough to make me reconsider my career goals. This is not to knock State, but I saw how cut-throat life is for young English professors, and how depressing. They get to teach nothing much but freshman composition for years, but they are expected to keep doing research and cranking out articles or books if they are ever to have a hope of promotion or tenure. Most colleges and universities pay some sort of lip service to good teaching, what they like to call ‘excellence in the classroom,’ but what they really want from their junior staff is a string of publications. I also saw all the campus politics, and the endless rounds of meetings.”

  “I hear you,” Brent said, “and I know a little of what you’re describing. But it must be worse in English than in music.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “So, how did you wind up here?”

  “As I said, I really liked campus life. Short of living in a major city, a university is the best place for a guy who loves music and theater. So I decided to chuck the doctorate and look for a job that I could enjoy without all the stress but that offered the cultural opportunities I wanted. And here I am.”

  “And you’re really happy doing what you’re doing?”

  I grinned. “Yup. I’ve got a job I like, with all the goodies of university life but without the aggravation of being a junior English prof. And, you know, there’s something satisfying about working with your hands. At the end of the day you can point to tangible things and say, ‘I did that’.”

  He frowned. “Gabe, how do your parents feel about your decision?”

  “Mom was really upset for a while. She thought because I made Phi Beta Kappa at Miami I was wasting my abilities. I think Dad was secretly pleased, though he’s never come right out and said so. But then, he’s still hoping I’ll take over the company when he’s ready to retire.”

  “Do you think you might do that?”

  “At this point, who knows? Dad won’t retire for at least another ten years, and lots could happen between now and then. I’m not ruling it out, but at this point I’m pretty content.”

  Brent lifted his snifter to me. “You’re an amazing man, Gabe Sutton.”

  “Why, thank you, sir!” We touched glasses.

  “How many people around campus know about your academic credentials?”

  “You’re the only person I’ve told since I got the job. I asked Frank, the superintendent of B & G, to keep it quiet when I was hired, and so far as I know, he has.”

  “Why don’t you want anyone to know?”

  “Because the people I work with would probably look askance at me if they knew. And I just want to be one of the guys.”

  “Guys including Ms. Narbone?”

  I laughed. “We have a couple of women in the department in non-clerical positions, as a matter of fact.”

  “Gabe, that gal’s infatuated with you!”

  “Narbone?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Surely not. She’s good at what she does, and, probably because of her size or being a woman or both, she works harder than anyone on my crew. But I can’t believe she’s interested in me.”

  “You better believe it. I can tell by the way she looks at you.” He regarded me seriously. Obviously he wasn’t joking about Sherry. “How would you feel if she were? If she is? Shit, you’re the English major. You know what I mean.”

  I shrugged, looked him straight in the eye, and said, “She’s not my type.”

  * * * *

  Brent

  “She’s not my type.” That was ambiguous enough to give me an inkling of hope. Did he mean Sherry Narbone was, of the women he might want to have a relationship—or a fuck—with, not the one he’d choose? Or was he perhaps suggesting obliquely what I hoped was true, that he preferred men?

  I wanted very much to grab him and kiss him at that moment, to declare the strong feelings I had for him, but cowardice and ten years of caution and restraint won out. I needed more evidence. Besides, if he was gay, why hadn’t he been more open about it? I was sure he liked me. He seemed to enjoy being with me as much as I enjoyed being with him. So I could only conclude he thought of us as just straight guys with a growing friendship.

  I finished the last of my cognac and put the glass on the coffee table. “Gabe, I’m honored that you trusted your deep, dark secret to me, and I promise I won’t tell anyone.” I grinned. “God forbid people in this university should know that the guy who keeps the plant running is a Phi Bate and has nearly finished his PhD.”

  “Nearly finished is as far as it’s ever going to be, too.”

  We talked a while longer, but it was getting late, so I stood. He stood. “Your promise includes Ms. Menzies, right? You two seem pretty close.” He looked worried. Worried! That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

  “Gabe, Rae and I are good friends, but that’s all. We’ve decided that we’re sort of like brother and sister. There’s nothing romantic between us. What I promised you just now goes for everyone. Your secret is safe with me.” I was wondering as I said that what it would be like to be kissed by a man with a mustache. Shaking my head to clear it of such thoughts, I thanked him for the hospitality.

  He helped me into my topcoat. Then he surprised the hell out of me. He hugged me. “Thanks for the theater, Brent. This has been a good evening.”

  Still a little flustered by the hug, I said something clever like, “My pleasure.” After we promised to see each other again soon, I left. On the way home, I told myself something had to give. I didn’t want to lose Gabe’s friendship if he was straight. What was I to make of the hug, and the worried look when he asked about Rae?

  I went to bed horny and confused.

  * * * *

  Gabe

  The hug was entirely spontaneous. I think, though, if he’d stayed longer, I might have come out to him. But then it seemed as if he left sooner than he needed to. I didn’t think telling him about my life and my education had done anything to turn him off, but he seemed a little uncomfortable as he left. He did say, however, we should get together again soon. I was greatly relieved when he said there was nothing romantic going on between him and the beautiful cellist. Maybe my gaydar hadn’t been wrong after all.

  At any rate, I decided to try to keep the friendship going and see what happened.

  That night I had a vivid dream.

  Kling Hall, the newer of the Conservatory’s two buildings, was three stories tall. Its flat roof had about a thirty-inch parapet running all around it. Since the A/C units were on the roof, I’d been up there many times. Only B & G people had access to the roof, and I’d always enjoyed its view of the campus, with its well-tended lawns, big old trees, and buildings of different vintages and architectural styles.

  It was a mild summer evening. Brent and I had spread out an old tarp and covered that with a blanket and were having a picnic of cheese, a baguette, and some merlot, which we were drinking from the bottle. The bread wasn’t sliced, so we tore off hunks and ate them.

  We were both wearing T-shirts, khaki shorts, and our Birks—without socks, of course. I lay stretched out, propped up on one elbow, munching a piece of bread, looking at him as he sat cross-legged facing me. I admired his long, thin feet with their long toes. Then I began, as they say, undressing him with my eyes, imagining him naked. Nice image.

  He held out a piece of cheese. I opened my mouth, and he popped it in. I chewed, swallowed, and took a drink of the wine. Then I handed him the bottle and he drank.

  “Lie down,” he said. I complied. He unfastened and unzipped my shorts. “Lift your butt,” he said. I lifted my butt. Since I wasn’t wearing underwear, my hard cock immediately flopped against my belly when he pulled off my shorts. Brent lay on his stomach between my spread legs and began to lick my thing, getting it really wet with his saliva.

  “Oh, suck me, baby!” I moaned. He grinned and took as much as he could of me in his mouth. When I was nearly ready to scream with pleasure, he pulled off and stood up.

  “Brent, what’s wrong? Why did you stop?”

  He held his hands down and helped me stand up. “Come with me,” he said, giving me a sexy smile. He led me over to the parapet on the west side of the building. The sun was just setting. Brent dropped his shorts, revealing his own beautiful erection, leaned over, and put his hands on the top of the parapet.

  “Fuck me, Gabriel!” he growled.

  I chuckled.

  “What’s funny?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

  “You could have said, ‘Blow me, Gabriel, blow’.”

  “Right now, stud, you look more like a satyr than an archangel. So get on with it, please.”

  I stuck my still-wet dick into him, and we fucked as we watched the sun set.

  Chapter 4

  Brent

  The week before Christmas was hectic, involving the reading of term papers plus making up, administering, and reading final exams. I didn’t see much of either Rae or Gabe, though I talked with both briefly.

  They were going to their respective families for Christmas. Rae, who was taking her cello with her, planned to stay until after New Year’s. Gabe told me he’d be back before New Year’s Eve, and we agreed to do something together, though we’d left the details unspecified. I decided to give the matter some thought while he was away, thinking perhaps I could come up with something nice just for the two of us.

  I opted not to fly to Seattle
to be with Mom and Spence. I’d been out there the previous summer, for one thing, and I wanted to spend some time practicing my horn, brushing up on horn pedagogy, and maybe even doing a little research into Hummel. That’s Johann Nepomuk Hummel, the composer, not the one that made those tacky little figurines. I’d stayed in New York over the two previous Christmas holidays and had survived, so I didn’t really mind the thought of being alone again.

  The big day came, and, except for talking for a long time on the phone with Mom and Spence, I was pretty much the hermit. The day afterward I slept late. Then I did a little grocery shopping. I spent the afternoon of St. Stephen’s Day, or Boxing Day, as the Canadians call it, in my office. It was about four o’clock when I decided I’d done enough. I hadn’t worked out in a couple of days, so I decided to go by the gym. I’d seen an announcement it would be open for faculty and students who were remaining on campus.

  As I walked across campus, it was gray and cold, looking as if it could snow anytime. I found only a handful of guys at the gym, but I supposed that wasn’t surprising. How many people would you expect to find at a gym late on the day after Christmas? I got into my routines and hadn’t noticed everyone else was leaving, so I was surprised when a good-looking guy came around and asked me to get my shower because they wanted to close up.

  When I got to the shower, only one other person was there. Since the attack on me in high school, I’d always been leery about checking guys out, especially in gyms, but this guy had his back to me. And what a back it was! He had slightly wavy blond hair. What was striking was his build. He had muscles on top of muscles. I don’t mean he looked like one of those over-developed body builder types. But this kid had a perfect body, with broad shoulders tapering down to a magnificent ass which had those concaves I loved on each cheek.

  I chose a shower head some distance away and went about the business of washing myself, trying very hard to ignore the other guy.

  “Hey, coach, everybody’s out but you two guys. Can I leave now? Everything’s locked up but the parking lot door.”

  “Yeah, Tom, I’ll make sure everything’s secure when I leave.”

  “Thanks, coach. Have a nice evening.”

  “You, too, Tom.”

  Coach? I turned to look at the man I had assumed was a college student. Two things were apparent: he could have passed for an undergraduate, and he was checking me out. When I looked at him, he didn’t avert his gaze, as most men would have done. He simply kept looking at me.

  I was embarrassed and instinctively turned away.

  “Hey, my name’s Guy Mannington. Didn’t mean to embarrass you. I don’t think we’ve met.”

  I didn’t know what the protocol was for self-made introductions between two naked guys in a shower, but he was so damned fine that I turned back and smiled at him. “Uh, I’m Brent Collins.”

  “Hi, Brent.”

  “Hi. You’re a coach?”

  “Yeah, I was new here last year. I’m helping Coach Knudsen with the gymnastics program. What about you?”

  “I’m new this year in the Con. I’m surprised I didn’t meet you at the reception for new faculty this fall.”

  He gave me a big grin. “That’s not my scene. Besides, I wasn’t here for that. I was at a regional competition. Didn’t make it to campus until just before classes started.” He had never taken his eyes off me from the time I turned and found him staring at me. And those cobalt blue eyes kept dipping to check out my genitals. His own weren’t so bad, either. He was cut, his flaccid cock protruding from an apparently trimmed triangle of pubic hair and hanging over a set of plump balls. I forced myself to look back at his face when I felt the tingling that told me an erection was imminent.

  “Oh,” I said stupidly, “that explains why we haven’t met. I work out three times a week, but I’m usually here earlier in the day.”

  I shut off the shower, waved at him, and beat a retreat to my locker. Soon afterward I heard his shower shut off. I finished dressing, combed my hair, and closed the locker door. Just then two arms came around me and began groping my dick and balls. “Guy, what the fuck are you doing?”

  He chuckled. “Duh! I’m copping a feel of that nice package of yours, stud.”

  “But, I, uh…” I had never felt like that before. No one had touched me there since I was a little boy in the bathtub and Mom washed me. No one. There was this kid I’d jacked off with in eighth grade, but except for an experimental kiss or two, which he didn’t like, we’d never touched each other. My traitorous cock got hard instantly. Guy was very strong. I doubt I could have broken away from him if I’d wanted to. But I didn’t want to.

  He licked the back of my neck and said, “Yum!”

  Despite all of the reserve I’d developed since the attack on me in high school, I just stood there. I was about to whimper, I think, when he said, “Let’s take this back to my office.”

  “I don’t know…”

  He came around in front of me, looking up at me with those mesmerizing blue eyes, a mischievous grin on his face. “Don’t be shy, Brent. You know you want to.” He took me by the hand and led me down a hallway to his small and compulsively neat office. “Now, let me go lock that parking lot door, so we won’t be disturbed. You aren’t going to run away, are you?”

  I thought, That’s exactly what you should do, Collins. Get the hell out of here. This could be disastrous. But I didn’t run anywhere. I stood there with precum leaking into my boxers from my dick, which was getting pretty uncomfortable in my jeans. My inner debate was resolved when Guy came jogging back down the hall and into his office.

  “Here, Brent, let me help you with your problem.” He backed me up against his desk, unfastened the button of my Levis, and yanked both them and my boxers down around my ankles. Quickly he had a fist wrapped around my oozing cock. “Nice!” he said, licking his lips. Then he just made an O with his mouth, and before I knew what had happened he had taken it all into his mouth, down his throat, his nose in my pubes.

  “Oh my God,” I said. I’d dreamed of this happening since I was a scrawny pubescent teen, but it felt much better than anything I could have imagined. Much too soon his efforts began to have their inevitable results, and I knew I was about to come. I’d been standing there like a zombie, moaning with pleasure, but I had enough presence of mind to warn him what was about to happen.

  I put my hands on the sides of his head, attempting to push him away. “I’m gonna come!”

  He looked up at me, winked, grabbed me by the butt, and kept on bobbing and sucking. Oh, well, I thought, he wants it. And I gave it to him, a couple of days’ worth. He took it, swallowing it all with apparent ease. Then he sat back on his haunches and grinned up at me.

  “Thanks, Brent. That was as great as I thought it would be.” He stood up and put a hand on each of my shoulders, his eyes twinkling. “Now that I’ve raped you, let me take you to dinner.”

  I don’t know why I didn’t get the hell out of there, but I was still in shock, I think, both from the suddenness of what had happened and from the exquisite pleasure of it all.

  “Uh, yeah. I mean, you don’t have to pay, but now we’ve done this, maybe we should get to know each other better. So, yes, Guy, let’s do dinner.” I was finally able to smile back at him.

  I told him I didn’t have my car, that it was parked at Kling Hall. He said he’d drive us somewhere and then drop me at Kling afterward. Still mesmerized, I said that would be fine.

  He drove us through lightly-falling snow to a local steak house. Because of the weather and the fact it was December 26, perhaps, the place wasn’t busy that evening. We got a booth somewhat apart from everyone else. When the very blonde waitperson asked if we wanted drinks, I ordered Jack Daniels, neat. Guy had a diet cola with lime. When she came back, I asked for a New York strip, baked potato, and salad. Guy chose some sort of white fish, baked sweet potato, and the salad. “Gotta watch out for the fat, you know,” he said, winking at me again.

  After the perky young woman left with our orders, we touched glasses and sipped our drinks. I still felt as if I were in a dream. Here I was having dinner with a perfect stranger who’d just sucked me off. He had come on to me. And, with his blond hair, blue eyes, boyish face, and perfect body, he was stunning! I began to get hard again, just looking at him and thinking about what had recently transpired in his office.