NEVER
JOJO & THE PROFESSOR
Sleep With A Porcupine
It took time but when he enrolled for the second year Walt had decided on a business degree with emphasis in marketing. He seemed to be able to sell: had enjoyed moving into sales work back at the dealership. He sure had the 'it' to get along: sex appeal, charisma, whatever. So why not take a professional path that would let him use his talents.
Walt's position on campus as a budding star in both football and track was secure. He had little trouble wrangling dates and was learning to understand the female sex signals very well. Seldom, if he made an advance, was he rebuffed. Even more seldom was he so far off in his understanding of his date that he ended the night with a stinging palm print on his face. He chalked these few incidents up to a lack of education and studied even harder.
In addition, being an academically able athlete brought him attention from the faculty and administration. Starting that year they made him a frequent guest when the university entertained high school juniors and seniors -- potential new students. The school's staff liked showing him off, and, in his own way, he liked it too.
Coach made a change in his living arrangements that second year. He was now paired on the team with Joshua Fox, the Cougars' current premier wide receiver/rusher. Walt was his back up. He was assigned to learn everything JoJo knew about the game the Cougars played, interpretation of Coach's moods and what to expect from every defense they played. The result was Walt now resided in the jock dorm and shared accommodations with the Fox.
JoJo was a year ahead of Walt but just making it. Coach let Walt know that anything that Walt did to help keep JoJo academically eligible would be appreciated. "Not that that's why I paired you two, understand. It's just a side benefit you could give your roommate." The gruff gravel voice smoothed just a touch.
JoJo wasn't as quick as Walt on the field either. But, he had moves that amazed Walt. Regardless of his academic mental ability this guy could read the opponents and find the holes. He was just big enough to make them for himself, if necessary. In open field running JoJo turned into butter that no one could hold.
Walt had grown enough not to be upset over the new living arrangements. He and JoJo got along. They quickly worked out a set of signals so the other one knew to bunk elsewhere if one of them had a visitor and needed privacy. There were bed checks to fake. But, if it moved, the assistant coach or dorm monitor making the check assumed it was who was suppose to be in the bed.
There were enough bush chasers on the team that they all took turns covering for each other when needed. No one ever reported a curfew violation or that someone had been up being 'up' half the night for some coed. If someone's extracurricular activities started impacting the team's performance the offender found that his privileges had been cut off. It was made clear that more than privileges would be cut if he didn't get his act together, quickly. The main enforcers were the center and, surprisingly, the kicker. Glen was small but Italian and hard and willing to take on anyone, anytime.
"Comes from growing up in the wrong part of Chicago, Walt, buddy," he explained after they together tangled with four drunks one night out in the county hinterlands.
On any away trip the team drew straws to see which two got to really stretch out and rest in the back seat of the bus. The standard seats were comfortable but reclined a total of eight inches. The driver usually assigned had also graduated from kamikaze driving school. he seemed to enjoy pushing the bus to its limits and taking corners so that, if one wasn't careful, heads cracked as bodies snapped back and forth in the seats.
Walt felt fate had been kind when he finally won the right to share the back seat. it was the last away game and JoJo was the other winer. "I'm already use to hearing you snore," Walt joked with JoJo as they loaded back on the bus after a close loss. The team was solemn. Little of the usual after game horse play had been evident in the locker room or occurred now on the bus as they started the journey home. They all knew they should have won the game. The problem had been the other team just didn't share that knowledge.
The guys settled down and soon all that was heard was the hum of the tires and a muffled curse ever so often when the bus took a corner and someone slid into someone else or into the center isle. Walt and the Fox stretched out on the back seat and scrunched around 'til they were comfortable. Walt rested on his side. JoJo pounded Walt's butt, complained about the bones in his pillow and settled down.
The tremors from the engine and the suspension washed over Walt as he nodded, half asleep. The feeling was sensual. He felt a responding tingle in his groin as his body relaxed and his cock jiggled with the motion of the bus. They lurched around a corner in some small town. The jolt almost threw JoJo off the seat. He shifted and turned on his side resting his head on his arm and grabbing Walt with the other for safety. He pulled and pushed himself and Walt up against the back of the seat, trying to get as far away from the edge as possible.
"Damn driver," muttered JoJo. With another grunt from stretching he grew silent except for the wheeze and snort of air entering and exhaling through his nose and half open mouth.
Walt was sound asleep, dreaming he was with Clint. They were on the nurse's hospital bed this time. Walt thought he was awake. He wasn't dreaming. But he still felt Clint working on his rod. It was so real, his body was tensing, and then his hips were pumping. The sensation was building. Walt was starting to shake. It was real. He was awake. He carefully looked and with disbelief took in the activity right below his waist. His pants were open, he was fully aroused and enclosed in Josh's mouth. Josh was working him like a Popsicle, but slowly, quietly. Obviously he wanted Walt to remain asleep and think afterwards it had just been a wet dream.
Walt understood anyone's reluctance to being found in this situation. He just couldn't believe that it was happening with Josh. They had been together, roommates, for months now. He had not had any idea, never ever dreamed that anything would happen with Josh. In his mind it would have been astonishing if Josh agreed to a four way with two willing coeds. Josh was very private. He was active, at least Walt had thought that was what had been occurring when he slept in the lobby or spent a few hours in the laundry room. Now he was wondering.
Regardless, Walt let his mind and body drift. He relaxed and left Josh to his pleasures, which were also pleasing him. Walt muttered a female name as if in his sleep and jerked his hips. A smile and moan of satisfaction came next as he felt the tightness building. "Oh, baby, yes," he whispered sleepily. "Oh, yes, yes, yes." Walt hissed his approval as his sperm shot through and out into Josh's mouth. Walt shivered with anticipation as Josh worked his lips and the second spasm hit. Josh must have swallowed it all. Walt let himself drift again. The euphoria and after glow engulfed him. He slept, for real this time.
A hand was shaking him, hard. Walt's eyes popped open. He swiped at the arm with the hand that was bothering him. Josh laughed and let him know they were home. "It's time to get up and go to bed, roomy."
Walt did a quick inventory without being obvious to Josh. Nothing was amiss. Damn the guy was good as a secret cock sucker. Walt decided to let things stay as they had been. He even reinforced Josh's subterfuge. "JoJo, ol' pal, you would not believe the dream I just had," he said. "I was on a date with Marty Jessup and she gave me a blow job in the front seat of her car, parked right in front of the dorm. I can still feel her. Josh, it was prime. I mean the best. I'm going to have to give that lady a call tomorrow and see if dreams really do come true." He winked at Josh and poked him in the chest. "You want me to see if she'll do dual heads, JoJo?"
"Hot damn, Walt. All I dream of is getting kicked off the team and out of school. Marty Jessup doesn't strike me as the willing maiden type. But, if you get her interested, I'll be there." Josh was quite happy that Walt had accepted what had happened as a fantasy, just a dream.
Nothing changed between the roommates until one night in March near the end of the year. They still passed signals, honored each other's privacy. When John had an academic problem Walt poured on the midnight oil cramming with him. They seldom even talked about their exploits. Walt's revelation about the dream had been one of the most intimate conversations they had all year.
They had planned to go bar hopping with a few other members of the football team and two of the track team that Walt had accepted into his inner circle. Everyone made it but, at the last minute, Walt begged off. He stayed in bed with what seemed to be a mild case of the flu. He was achy and awoke a number of times to find he had broken a sweat so strong the sheets were wet. Sleeping fitfully, he heard the gang as they bounced off the walls moving down the hall to their rooms.
Josh entered, shut the door quietly and unsteadily tiptoed to the john. He was humming to himself as the toilet flushed and he crossed the room. Walt squinted a look. Josh stood beside the bed with nothing on but his boxers. He had a glass in his hand. Swaying he slowly sunk to his knees. Reaching out with his hand holding the glass he let it start dribbling on Walt. He was aiming at Walt's crotch and the water was warm. Whether it was an honest reaction to the warm bath or to the potential that shone in Josh's eyes, Walt grew excited.
Josh intently studied the wet sheet where it covered the mass that lay between Walt's thighs. The damp sheet slowly lifted away from Walt's groin. Josh continued to let warm water flow and Walt's erection continued to grow. Walt let a moan escape and stretched, arching his back. As he brought his arms back down from over his head he tugged the sheet. It was a seemingly unconscious move that uncovered the half of his body on the out side of the bed. Now the sheet covered a leg and ran up across his privates and over his chest.
Walt heard Josh sigh. Walt made another small moan as he rolled his head stretching his neck and sneaking another look at Josh. He could have opened his eyes wide. Josh was totally focused on Walt's member as it now stood erect tenting the sheet from one side. It was fully exposed to Josh's side of the bed. Josh licked his lips and. with his legs spread, masturbated slowly, continuing to hum.
Walt tossed and turned uncovering himself fully and then turned on his side curling into a fetal position, drawing himself in. Although still erect, little of his penis was exposed to view. What would Josh do? Walt felt wrong in playing games with Josh, but knew Josh was playing games too, even if this time he was slightly smashed.
Walt felt a light touch on his shoulder and hip as Josh rolled him onto his back. Then he was aware of his knees being pushed down as his calves were pulled out flattening his legs. Walt stirred, bringing the off side knee back up resting his foot against the near side knee. Josh remained kneeling, one hand now back moving on his own cock while the other reached out as if to bless Walt's. How drunk was he? Or was this just a way to justify to himself what was happening. Walt knew about that game.
What if he let Josh think he was dreaming again? But, this time, about Josh. What would happen? What if he just woke up? He slowly rotated his hips and he whispered softly, "Uh- h- h, Josh, is that you? Do me, Josh. I want you. I'm so fucking hot, burning with fever. U- o- o- o- hh, that feels so good." Walt continued although nothing had happened. Josh's hands had frozen with the first sound Walt made. Walt let Josh determine if he was asleep, dreaming, or awake. Did it really matter now anyway?
He felt Josh stand. Was this good night? Was the game over? There was a shuffling sound and then he felt Josh sit on the side of the bed. He peeked again. Josh was looking right at him. Josh smiled and slurred, "Hi ya, roomy. Got roomy for your roomy? You feelin' better? Lookin' better. Yez you are, roomy. Lookin' damn good. Looks good 'nuf to eat." Josh giggled and rolled onto his side next to Walt. "Wan'a bite, roomy? Bite me. Bite m' shorts. Bite the big Coug'r ass." JoJo proped himself up on his elbow holding his head still, looking right at Walt. "Wha' ya say, roomy? Strong . . . silent . . . Walter . . . the speedster. Sexy . . . silent . . . Walter . . . the dashing daredevil. Sensible . . . sch'lastic . . . Walter . . . the awsome a-a-a-nt'lope. Come on, roomy, talk to me."
"JoJo, you're drunk. Get to sleep," Walt replied, as he reached out and touched Josh.
"Not enough, roomy. You tin'l my balls when you touch me. You know that, Walt? I need another drinky wink. Got anything I can suck down, roomy?" Josh moved his hand and his head crashed onto the bed. With the same move his other hand fell off his hip and grabbed tight on Walt's cock. "Sorry, tho't was mine," he mumbled and moved his hand. It now held both enlarged organs as he stroked them together. "God, is that good," he said more clearly. Then distinctly Josh spoke. "You are awake, aren't you, Walt?"
"Yo. I was awake when you got home, JoJo. You knew that."
"Did not. Just figured it out, roomy." Again the drunken slur was missing from Josh's voice.
"So what are we going to do now that we know we are both awake and we both have boners . . . " Walt paused. " . . and we both know they ain't 'cause we were dreaming of Marilyn Monroe? Can you answer that one? You are the senior resident here. I'm suppose to be your understudy. What are you into, roommate of mine? What have you been hiding in your boxers all this time, and why?" Walt was grinning at Josh as he spoke.
"I'll show you, you smart mouthed Sophomore." Josh raised up and wrestled Walt down. Pinning Walt's arms with his legs and then leaning up Josh thrust his stiff prick right into Walt's face. "That's what's been hiding. Why? Just waiting for the right time to come out and it looks like tonight is the night."
Josh was now grinning at Walt and shaking his hips so his cock whipped back and forth in front of Walt's face. Walt was suddenly under attack and feeling strange. He wasn't in charge in this situation any more. He turned his head and Josh firmly grasped his jaw and pulled his face forward.
"Don't want it, roomy?"
"Just don't go for your rough stuff, Josh. It's not necessary. Back off."
Obviously, Josh was not one who wasted time on affection. Walt figured he'd get his head handed to him if he even puckered his lips unless it was on an erogenous zone of Josh's. He better get his ass busy and wear this bull out, he thought. Should be able to have some fun while doing it. Sure looks like he'll have to hunt up a new roommate for next year though. No way could he live under the constant threat of this kind of an onslaught coming whenever Josh got in the mood . . . or drunk.
As Josh eased back Walt raised his head, pulled a hand free and took Josh, nibbling and licking. He looked up. "See what I mean. There's no need for the rough stuff."
Josh lifted off and maneuvered around leaving Walt busy at one end as he rested on his knees and elbows hanging over Walt. Josh rocked as Walt worked him further into his mouth and then Josh lowered his head and inhaled Walt's cock. He was as good as Walt remembered from the bus. Josh nearly drove Walt insane as they continued thrusting fingers, tongues and firm dicks into every body opening. Josh's erection was the first Walt had encountered that was his equal. Although Josh's frame was larger and he outweighed Walt by over twenty pounds, it was still the closest Walt had ever been to actually making love to himself . After a heavy hour, exhausted and spent, Walt admitted to himself that Josh was not growing weary. Walt suspected it had actually been a long time since Josh had let himself go sexually. He was like a kid in a candy store: more, more, more, more.
Seeking to break contact without agitating Josh, Walt excused himself to clean up and use the bathroom. Washing off and drying, he felt a growing pressure as he stood at the sink. He really would have to take a dump. His stomach was rumbling. Sitting and straining his stool spilled out loose with a gush of gastric and sexual juices. He hadn't locked the door. It opened and Josh entered.
He ignored Walt, soaped and scrubbed his cock. Then, as if just becoming aware of Walt, Josh moved in front of the stool. Before Walt could protest Josh grabbed Walt's ears and forced his bright pink and red meat into Walt's mouth. Suddenly, for whatever reason, Josh was back to being as aggressive as hell. Walt fought the only way he could. Using his teeth he made it clear that Josh had better back off.
"Enough's enough, Josh. This is getting beyond anything I want to be involved in," said Walt as he held Josh back with both arms.
"Fuck you, Walt. You love it. You just spent an hour fucking and sucking with me under your rules, right? It's time to play a little according to my desires. Just try and stop me." Josh shoved Walt's arms aside and stepped forward poking his sex right back into Walt's face.
Walt grabbed a hunk of toilet paper, scrubbed his ass and stood up shoving Josh back against the door. "Josh, I mean it, this is going places I do not want to go. Is that clear?" Walt's arms were drawn up at his sides, fists clinched.
"You ass hole. I did everything you wanted to do. Let you do everything to me you wanted to do. Now it's over? Just 'cause you got your rocks off and are all warm and fucky inside. You don't give, you take and it's time you find out what it feels like to have to give, to get taken from." Josh was yelling and crouched low. He drove a punch right at Walt's stomach as a wild grin appeared on his face.
Walt knocked Josh's arm to the side with one wrist and drove his other fist from his waist right up to Josh's chin. Josh's head snapped back, cracked on the door. He slumped to the floor. Grasping Walt's ankles he shook his head and looked up with tears in his eyes.
Josh lifted one of Walt's feet and brought it down hard in the middle of his groin, begging Walt to stomp him, kick him. "I'm sorry. I deserved that. Punish me. Hurt me." Josh was whimpering and crying. This outburst scarred Walt even more than the previous display of aggressive behavior. Josh was sick. Walt had no frame of reference for responding to what was happening. He knew he had to calm Josh. He just didn't know how to do it.
Walt helped Josh us, easing him out of the bathroom. They struggled across the room and fell on Josh's bed. Josh was continuing to to plead and cry for Walt to punish him. He crabbed across the bed, took his pants from the floor and removed the belt. Turning he offered it to Walt, begging to be whipped for being so bad. Walt took the belt away and tossed it across the room. He wrapped Josh in his arms and started trying to talk him down off whatever mental cliff he was ready to throw himself over. Gradually, without knowing for sure what words were working, unsure whether to just hug or to sooth Josh with gentle calming messages, doing both, Walt found Josh becoming rational.
"I lost it, didn't I? It's only happened once before. Honest, Walt, I'm not a loony tune, usually. I should have stopped us, but I wanted to be, do, whatever, to make you happy. But, I know better. Please, forgive me. Oh, God, Walt, please forgive me."
Walt wasn't sure what to do. He kept hugging Josh and looking him in the eye, listening intently.
"I got into this with my dad, Walt. Would you believe it. But it was always my fault. He made me believe that. Whenever anything happened, he would satisfy himself and then beat me up for letting it happen. When I let myself go with a guy . . ." Josh shivered, the tears started rolling again. Walt told him he didn't owe an explanation. "Gotta tell someone, Walt. I let go and it all comes back. Then I get overly aggressive just to force a physical reaction. Same thing happens if I drink too much. Then I just pick fights. I don't jump the bones of every cowboy in the bar. I'm sorry, Walt. It was just I have had the hots for you for so damn long. Tonight I had to give in even though I was afraid this would happen. I was going to explode anyway. Forgive me, please." The bug lug was sobbing in Walt's arms.
Walt was unable to comprehend. He heard Josh but it took time for what he said to become real in Walt's mind. Things like this didn't really happen. His own father. Walt knew the Josh needed help, professional help, but also he needed just plain get-through-the-day help. Walt made an instant decision. He never regretted it.
"Hush, roommate. Hush. We're going to get through this together. You hear me, Josh, together. We're going to find someone who can help you so you don't become destructive. And you've already found someone who's going to be with you so you can quit being afraid to be yourself. Do you understand, Josh? I know what you're going through -- not every twist and turn -- but I want to help. We're more than just roommates now. You can trust me."
Walt was true to his word. He and Josh remained roommates and close friends through Josh's senior year. By then, the psychologist that had been seeing Josh had worked a minor miracle. Walt was happy for his friend, who now was able to let himself go sexually without feeling that it was so wrong he had to punish himself. And, Josh had even gained enough confidence in himself he had started experimenting with a few heterosexual entanglements, successfully, too. Walt's gift to the Fox for graduation was a case of prophylactics which he urged Josh to use up as quickly as possible.
Walt refused to allow anyone else to get too close emotionally during the two years he was with Josh. Several of the girls he did date repeatedly were never even considered for conquest. They were friends with fertile minds that he enjoyed. The others he returned to date were only interested in the same thing he was when they went out -- pure and simple sexual gratification. None of them wanted a guy to make a commitment, just make it hard and shove it in. He had lots of male companions but no other real friend. There were a few of his fellow jocks that he and Josh paled around with. The had a favorite after hours drinking spot and once in a while they propositioned some coed for a gang bang. The time they got lucky just before the Fox's graduation, everyone was so smashed that on Monday no one could recall who she was or whether anyone had actually been successful.
o - o - o When his own Senior year started Walt knew he had made the right choice for the future. For two years he had soaked up the knowledge and skills that would turn him into a professional somewhere in the field of marketing. He had also been exercising his own personal marketing skills -- that certain something that people trusted about him, and frequently lusted after.
In some of his classes he knew the subject cold, but put out no effort except to charm the instructor. He never charmed one into bed but the implications were there at times. He was dean's honor student every time from the start of his second year right through graduation.
Early his Senior year he had a job offer from the assistant professor of communications. Dudley Grant was one of the instructors that Walt had charmed out of an A his junior year. Considering the offer, Walt remembered his approach in sucking up to Grant for that A. Was this job offer a case of chickens coming home to roost?
The first day in class Walt had been struck by the instructor's appearance. Dudley Grant had the looks of an aging but still appealing male model. The female students fawned on him but Grant seemed aloof, favoring only a few with a smile that revealed dazzling white teeth. Grant's classroom methodology was as striking as his looks.
He gave reading assignments and never asked questions that related. He recommended radio and television shows, giving his opinions on why they were either good or bad examples of mass communication and never mentioned them again. He never lectured but proposed a rule or a theory on any aspect of marketing communication and then forced one or more students to debate with him on the validity of his proposal. Walt quickly saw that Grant switched from pro to con with each debate and seemed to pick his debate partners from students who didn't have strong skills in speaking out or thinking on their feet.
Surprisingly, the experience, in the able hands of Professor Grant, seemed to build confidence and ability in every one of his debate partners. Slowly, Walt saw that there was a connection between the rules or theories proposed and debated over and those reading, listening and watching assignments. You didn't catch on if you didn't do the work. And, the time gaps were random. Tuesday's give and take might relate to a theory that came right out of a book Grant had mentioned on Monday. Wednesday's debate was on a rule of visual presentation that had been the centerpiece of a television show which had been recommended weeks earlier.
Walt couldn't guess what or how this instructor would handle grades. Would there or wouldn't there be a final, written or oral? Taking out some insurance, Walt started visiting Professor Grant's office cubby hole after class and whenever he was on the floor and spotted Grant alone bent over his desk intently working.
Within a few visits Walt had their conversations dripping with sexual innuendo. Walt liked sprawling in the guest chair next to the professor's desk with his legs wide. In animated discussions over that day's topic in the classroom he would make a gesture to emphasize a point then drop his hands to rest on his thighs with his fingers pointing right at his crotch.
Most of the marketing communications Grant taught about were involved in advertising and promotion. This allowed a lot of free wheeling banter over the fact that sex was a primary ingredient in both the words and the pictures used in marketing. Grant made it obvious he knew the game that Walt was playing yet never called him on it. He also never called on Walt in the classroom, seeming to let him slide. The subject of fair exchange of goods entered their conversations but Grant never even hinted that Walt had better deliver any kind of goods if he wanted to make it through the class.
"You proved you knew the material every time we met," Grant said during their last meeting when he told Walt he had an A in Marketing Communications Theory. "You not only know the guiding ideas behind good selling communications but obviously know how to apply them and get the market you are addressing to buy what you are selling." Grant paused and smiled with just a hint of a twinkle in his eye. "You also have the ability to sell yourself. So, if you apply yourself and come up with some innovative ideas they stand a chance."
The Senior year offer was a little unexpected. Grant caught him in the hall one day and requested he drop by his office.
"I'd like you to come to work for me as a teaching assistant this year," Grant said with no lead in as Walt sat down.
"I don't believe you need any help from me, Professor. What could I do? What would we be working on? Are we talking regular hours or a lot of after hours time?" Walt was trying to determine the real nature of the offer without making a mistake and being too direct in his questioning.
"Walt, I can use your help. You know the subject matter as well as I do. You could supplement your scholarship by being my assistant, grading papers, helping revise course outlines. Things like that would be no problem for you. It would mean you could drop the extra hours of labor for grounds and maintenance this coming year. I won't be a slave driver. We can set our own hours to fit around your schedule for classes and the requirements of your athletic endeavors."
Walt had enjoyed being around Professor Grant. It seemed a sincere offer so he accepted. Their relationship was more formal than he expected. Walt didn't feel the need to play sex games to protect his position. The atmosphere between them was mainly academic with little time even for social much less sensual overtones. Infrequently, due to the subject matter usually, the old bantering sexual by play did occur.
When it did Walt felt Grant was now the one seeing just how far it could go without being offensive or resulting in a situation where one would have to take some action instead of just talking around the subject. Their last lesson planning session before the Winter holidays Grant gave Walt a small gift and asked if he had plans for dinner. Walt expressed his thanks for the Cross pen an pencil set and admitted he had nothing scheduled.
Over a dinner prepared by the professor himself, the conversation gradually drifted from topics directly related to the classroom work on which Walt was assisting to an exploration of some of the currently more sexually blatant advertising being directed at the college student audience.
Grant served an excellent wine with the dinner. Walt noted that his glass never stayed empty. They continued their discussion over Irish coffee after Walt helped clear the table and wash up the dirty dishes. Sitting down his empty cup, Walt complemented his boss on the well made and presented fare. Dudley took his cup and returned with another Irish coffee, smiling.
"Boss, are you trying to get me drunk?" asked Walt. "If you are you can stop. I'm already dizzy enough I'm afraid to stand up." Walt was feeling a buzz but wasn't actually as out of it as he pretended.
That night Walt did not go home. The sex was good. Walt had to admit he had always been attracted to Dudley. They were on a first name basis now. But, Walt didn't feel he was turning control over to Dudley. It was a mutual lust and exploration with no hurry in their pleasuring of each other. Dudley accepted any limits Walt applied and seemed to know every possibility for excitement that could be found in or on Walt's body.Dudley was honest in admitting that much of this came from years of experience. "Although I don't make a habit of seducing students. You are one of the few. Not sure who seduced who. I was educated at an all boys prep school back east and picked up these habits then. Spent my college days doing much as you have, except I had to actually go to bed with a few of the ugly mothers to get by. Always wanted to teach but spent a few years right out of college modeling. Now there, Walter me boy, is a profession where you can screw your way to the top, if you are discreet, and pick the right people to sleep with."
Because he felt comfortable with Dudley and felt no loss of control, Walt let the affair continue. He now used Dudley much as he had used Clint. If things didn't work out on a date or he just wanted a quick pleasurable roll in the hay, he visited the Professor.
Before graduation, Dudley offered to arrange a permanent position for Walt that would allow him to stay and work on his Masters. Walt gave it serious consideration but turned it down.
"I want to get out there and see if I can apply what I've learned," he said with determination.
"You'll do great. You have charisma, sex appeal that reaches both sexes and a winning way that almost forces people to like you. If you use what you have and what you have learned both in and out of the classroom you'll go far," was Dudley's assessment.
Walt turned and smiled. They were reclining nude in the midst of Dudley's rumpled bed. He hugged Dudley to him, kissing him lightly on his eyes and then his lips. "Thanks, Professor. I'll miss you, you know."
Walt grasped Dudley's head, sucked his own breath and his tongue into his mouth along with Dudley's. When they stopped Walt slowly pushed those wet lips down his body. Dudley eagerly nibbled his way past chest, belly button, pubic hair. He let Walt impale his head with that giant ramrod one last time.
- o o o -
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