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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

1968 - 3. Chapter 3

January 3, 1968

The flight had been long, but we landed safely in San Francisco and picked up a rental car. A short drive south on US 101 took us to Palo Alto. We stayed at a mediocre motel. Despite the beauty of the mountains and the water, neither of us was all that impressed. We headed to campus and all that changed.

Stanford has a beautiful campus. The California Mission Style architecture gave it a flavor unique among university campuses. I was used to the eastern Gothic styles, so it was a pleasant change. The weather was a little chilly, maybe in the mid-50's but that was heaven for people who had just left Chicago with snow and sub-zero temperatures. We spent the day exploring the campus and then had dinner with Dr. Falstead and his wife. They really rolled out the red carpet for us, making me feel like they really wanted me there.

The next day Isidore took the car and explored Palo Alto while I met with Dr. Falstead. He introduced me to the faculty that were there, a great group that even included a woman and a Mexican. I maintained my calm veneer, even though I was bubbling with excitement on the inside. I agreed to meet with him again on Friday.

January 5, 1968

I met with Dr. Falstead in the morning and he made me an incredible offer. A tenured position. Virtually unheard of. What's more, I could officially make the move now, and start on campus as of Fall, 1968. That was good for them, because when I went around lecturing, Stanford would get credit, not Northwestern. I promised him that I'd give him an answer in a week.

Isidore had been exploring Palo Alto and found some land in the Palo Alto Hills above campus that she fell in love with. There was lots of open land, and from the top of the hills there were great views of the bay and the campus. After we drove around, we headed up to San Francisco for the weekend.

I thought of those cities with their own distinct flavor, world-class cities that were truly unique. Paris, London, Rome, and New York came to mind. We learned that San Francisco deserved a place in this top tier of fabulous cities. It cast its spell on us. We strolled through Chinatown and the Wharf, took the cable cars over to Union Square and shopped, and headed out to the Presidio to get what for Isidore was her first look at the Pacific Ocean and the Golden Gate Bridge. I felt unbridled optimism as I stared at the Bay, and even the world seemed to cooperate with good news. Alexander Dubcek, an ardent reformer, had just been elected President of Czechoslovakia. Could it be that there was a change coming to the Warsaw Pact? By the time we got on the plane on Sunday, I knew she was sold. California, here we come!

January 7, 1968

We got home late in the day, and the kids were already in bed. I slept on the plane so I was still awake, and rather than just lie there tossing and turning I decided to head over to the hospital to see Jeff. I found him in his room, sound asleep. I pulled off my clothes and climbed in bed with him, nudging up against him so he was spooning against my back. I felt him stir as I moved up to him. I was a little nervous at his reaction, and I wasn't sure exactly how he'd handle waking up to find his naked lover in bed with him. I didn't need to worry.

I felt his arms envelop me. “Hey baby, you're home. When did you get in?” he asked groggily.

“About two hours ago,” I said.

“You mean you came straight over here to see me?” he asked.

“Yep.”

He hugged me tight to him until I felt something poking me. “You missed me I see,” I joked.

“Yep,” he said as he slid his dick up and down my crack. He was getting excited and leaking so much pre-cum that he slipped inside me with almost no resistance. This wasn't the sick Jeff trying hard to make love to me; this was the old Jeff anxious to fuck my brains out. And he did.

After we came we lay there with his dick still inside me, feeling linked to each other, totally united. Before I knew it I heard his gentle snoring, and I found myself drifting off to sleep as well.

We were awakened by a very surprised orderly bringing Jeff breakfast. He seemed less shocked than intrigued, and I couldn't help but notice a slight tent in his pants as he got a good look at us together in bed with only our bare chests showing. Jeff ate and then we made love again. I headed off to find the doctor and find out how he was doing.

The doctor was very positive. “Mr. Hayes has been doing very well. I think that if he wants to spend a night at home, say once or twice a week for starters, that would be fine.” I was thrilled and decided that tonight would be the first night. I called Isidore who was ecstatic, and went back to tell Jeff the news.

He was happy, but also nervous. “What's wrong?” I asked him.

“I haven't seen Isidore and the kids for a long time. I'm such a scum ball.” I could see how deeply ingrained the guilt was.

“You have to put the guilt behind you. Just move forward and make sure you don't fall into the old traps, and you'll be fine.” He nodded, but he wasn't convinced.

I drove him back to the condo and everything about it seemed to cause him apprehension. The empty parking space where his car used to be. The elevator with a different key since he couldn't be trusted to have access. I stuck to him like glue. He had to get through this or he'd never get better. The elevator doors opened and there was the magnificent view of the Lake and the City sprawling before us. It was cold and windy, so the Lake looked cold and ugly, but in its own way, it was still spectacular.

Isidore heard the elevator and came up and gave him a big hug. She smiled broadly at him. “It is so good to have you back. I have missed you so much.” And she hugged him again, almost clinging to him. I was worried that she might be overdoing it, but she got it just right, making sure that he knew how important he was to her. She guided us to the rec room where the kids dropped everything and came running to see him. “Papa!” they screamed. I saw the smile on his face, the joy that only kids could bring. Cries of “Papa” were soon replaced by “Daddy” as they hugged me too. They hadn't seen me since I'd gotten back. Jeff ignored me, Isidore, and even Betty, and played with the kids. Isidore put her arm through mine and smiled.

I had doubted Jeff's ability to knock this problem. I really worried that I'd lost him altogether. And on the elevator up to the condo, I feared the stress would be too much. But seeing him with the kids, I knew in my heart that he'd be just fine, and that he would finally beat this drug thing.

Betty made a fantastic dinner, her way of showing Jeff how much she cared. Stefan joined us for the meal and hung out afterwards, joining Jeff with the kids. The two of those goof balls wore the kids out. Isidore finally intervened when Billy and Claire started to get cranky and hustled them off to bed. Ace looked at Jeff pointedly and asked him, “Papa, will you be here in the morning?” I saw a tear run down Jeff's cheek. “Yeah Ace, I'll be here in the morning.”

I dragged him off to our bed, scene of so many moments of sexual bliss. He seemed nervous. “What's wrong?” I asked, putting my arms around him and hugging him tight.

“I don't know if I want to look at myself in the mirror,” he said. “I don't like myself very much.”

“I like you very much,” I said. “Come on, let's take a shower first. That will help you relax.” We didn't make love in the shower, we just washed each other. It was loving and sensual. Neither one of us even got an erection. Then we headed to bed and I lay next to him.

“Look in the mirror,” I ordered. He complied reluctantly. “I want to show you all the things about you that I like.” He gave me a goofy grin. “That's the first thing,” I said, poking his cheeks, “your goofy grin. I love seeing you with a happy look on your face. It brightens up my whole world.”

“Your violet eyes, your soft blond hair, not like Jim Morrison's anymore” I said with a smile noticing that he's gotten it cut a little shorter still, “but more like Paul McCartney's, your pouty lips, your strong neck, your masculine Adam’s apple that tells the whole world that you are all man.” I traced his body parts with my fingers as I mentioned them, and noticed that he was getting a pretty big erection.

“Your strong muscles and how they're shielded by a thin layer of fat and soft skin that makes you my teddy bear. The perfect amount of hair on your chest and tummy,” and I moved my hand lower to his belly button. I nuzzled my nose into his armpit. “The way you smell, even when you're all sweaty.” That got a giggle. “Your beautiful dick that makes me feel like I've never felt before, like I never imagined that I could,” I moved down and flicked my tongue on the tip, looking up at the mirror while I tongued it, making eye contact through the mirror. “Your legs that are like tree trunks, your balls that I love to lick and smell.”

I moved up to him now, straddling him. “But most of all Jeff Hayes, I love what's in here. I love the kindness that you always show, your strong sense of honor, your willingness to fight for the people you love, and the intelligence that is almost eclipsed by your common sense.” As I said this I lowered myself onto his dick, absorbing him into me. I leaned forward and licked his ear. “And I love being one with you, with such a magnificent being.”

He grabbed me with a groan and rolled over on top of me, bending me almost double, and latched onto my neck while he pounded me. Being with him, having that bond was almost as erotic as my orgasm when it came. And boy did I cum.

He collapsed on top of me and I admired his cute butt, and giggled. He tickled me to make me giggle more, and we started wrestling and laughing. It didn't take long for him to get hard again, since he was so much younger than me. He entered me again, this time from behind, and whispered those sweet nothings in my ear that just set me free. We fell asleep entwined with each other, and I gazed up at the mirror to look at my face and the big smile that was spread across it.

I woke up in the middle of the night and something was wrong. It took me just a minute to realize that Jeff wasn't in bed with me. I panicked. I saw that his clothes were no longer on the floor. Did he get up and get dressed and head off to find his hippie friends? Had I pushed him too far too fast? Would I lose him again? I was frantic, putting on my clothes. I tore out of the room and then calmed myself. The first thing to do was check the condo. He wasn't in the living room or dining room. I smiled and headed to the kitchen, figuring he'd be there, but he wasn't. I peeked into Isidore's room, where she was snoring peacefully. Then I checked the kid's rooms. Billy was sleeping soundly and so was Claire. When I peeked in at Ace I found Jeff, sitting next to his bed, gently stroking his hair, with tears pouring down his face. Ace didn't wake up; he slept peacefully, oblivious to Jeff's presence. I backed up and headed to my study.

After awhile I saw Jeff walk past and I worried that he'd head to the elevator to leave, but he didn't. He went back to the bedroom. I came in shortly after he did. “You spying on me?” he demanded.

“Yeah,” I said. “I woke up and you weren't here.”

“You figured I'd gone off to get fucked up didn't you?” He was really mad at me, but I knew he was just frustrated at his situation.

I laughed. “No, actually I thought you'd be in the kitchen.” He looked at me dubiously then laughed too.

“Now that you mention it, I am a little hungry.” So the two of us, joking and laughing, went and raided the kitchen then headed back to bed.

“So what made you go in and see Ace?” I asked.

“I think he missed me the most. I wanted to be there for him, to promise him that I'd be there in the future.” I nodded and hugged him, and then we went back to sleep.

January 9, 1968

Jeff got up early the next morning to eat breakfast with Ace before he went off to school. He'd start kindergarten this fall, but we'd enrolled him in a pre-school program, mostly to give him a break from his argumentative siblings. Ace was such a neat guy, so full of life and joy. On those rare occasions when he was sad, it was devastating. This was one of them.

“Will you be home tonight Papa?” he asked Jeff. Jeff stared at him, speechless. I intervened quickly. “Papa has to go away for a few days Ace, but he'll be back soon.”

Ace looked sad. “I don't want you to go away,” he said to Jeff, and started crying like five year old kids do.

Jeff snapped out of his fog. “I don't want to go away either buddy, but it will only be for a couple of days.” Isidore hustled him out of the house before he could depress us even more.

As we headed down the elevator to the car, Jeff was incredibly somber. I began to question whether bringing him home so soon was a good idea. “It kills me having to go back there JP.”

“I know,” I said, rubbing his knee as I started the car. “But I want you with us forever, and we can't afford to take any chances.”

He swallowed hard. Something was really bothering him. I just stayed quiet, confident that he'd tell me. “I almost left last night. I even got so far as to hit the elevator button.”

I looked at him and put my amateur psychologist hat on. “That's fantastic,” I said.

“What do you mean? I was about to dive back into that shit hole. I wanted a fix so bad. I still do.” Tears rolled down his face.

“But you didn't. You didn't go. And not because there was someone there to stop you, no guards or orderlies. You stopped yourself. I think that's amazing.”

He looked at me and processed my words. Then he smiled. “JP, if it wasn't for you, I'd be dead by now.” That was sobering. I dropped him off at the hospital and went to meet with the doctor and the shrink.

“He's making great progress, but he is still fragile. I think two visits home a week would be good at this point.” I left, frustrated with that, but knowing it was better than nothing.

I got back home and had a long talk with Isidore about moving. She finally agreed, but not until the summer. I decided that was probably best, since it gave us time to find a place to live and get everything set up. The next call I made was to Dr. Falstead, accepting his offer. I told him that I'd be out on the 23rd to start acclimating to the University.

January 15, 1968

Jeff finished breakfast with the family and prepared once again to head back to the hospital. This was his third visit home, although according to the doctors he shouldn't have been home so soon after last time. But I knew he'd really enjoy watching the AFL-NFL World Championship Game, and it was a lot of fun. I found myself really getting into football, watching the sheer athleticism of Bart Starr as he lead his Green Bay Packers in a 33-14 victory over the detested Oakland Raiders. We'd already pledged ourselves as 49er fans. I could tell Jeff appreciated my new-found enthusiasm for football. It gave us just one more thing in common.

As we got back to the hospital, he paused and looked at the building and smiled. “What?” I said.

“Not once during the past few visits have I wanted to get a fix,” he said. I put my arm around him. I was proud of him and he knew it.

I went to see the doctors as was my obligation and reported in on our conversation. They were thrilled. Then I had an inspiration.

“We're moving to the San Francisco Bay Area sometime this summer, and I have a trip scheduled out there next week. I'll be gone for four days. Can I take Jeff with me?” They argued amongst themselves for awhile, debating the pros and cons, while I sat observing their struggle. In the end, they were undecided, so I cast the final vote.

I headed down to his room, which surprised him since he thought I was already gone. “I checked in with the doctors,” I started.

He grinned. “Had to tell them I didn't flip out huh?”

“Yeah, something like that,” I countered playfully. “I'm going to the Bay Area next week so I'll be gone for four or five days.” I saw the sad look he got briefly on his face, and smiled as he tried to hide it.

“I'll miss you JP. I live for your visits.” Now wasn't that the sweetest damn thing to say?

“No you won't.” I teased.

“Yes, I will. I look forward to you being here.”

“No, you won't. You're coming with me.” He looked at me, incredulous, and then a huge smile broke out on his face.

“Really? They're letting me go on a trip? You're kidding?”

“Nope. And we'll need to go shopping for some clothes for you. You've lost almost all your muscle tone so nothing will fit you anymore.”

He stood up and picked me up easily, my 5'7 scrawny frame presenting no challenge at all. “Ya think?”

“Well, maybe not. Now put me down.” We were both laughing as I headed out.

That evening, I realized that I'd gotten myself into a fix. Isidore was busy with meetings and couldn't go to San Francisco with me. I couldn't leave Jeff alone while I had my meetings. Someone had to go with me. I went downstairs, hat in hand, to beg Stefan to accompany us.

“But what's in it for me JP?” The little shit asked me. After I fucked him, he agreed to go with us. There was something so engagingly charming and sexual about Stefan that was irresistible.

January 19, 1968

It was somewhat ironic that I'd picked this day to go to Northwestern and tender my resignation. Eartha Kitt, at a White House conference on crime, had taken that opportunity to denounce the Vietnam War. Rumor had it that she was so vehement she'd made Lady Bird Johnson cry. Just another flashpoint in this stupid war. So on campus there were people squared off, some cheering her, most denouncing her.

I had a certain amount of celebrity status on campus because of my anti-war work, and one of the students stopped me and asked me my opinion. “I think that everyone has the right to speak their opinion on this war, and I think they should.” I giggled to myself as I walked into the department offices, thinking about how that would piss Kellogg off. I entered my office to find Kellogg sitting there, apparently having appropriated it as his own.

“Dr. Crampton. I didn't expect to see you in here so soon. I thought you were on sabbatical.”

“I'm sorry to disturb you Dr. Kellogg, but I've come to submit my resignation. I've arranged for movers to come in this afternoon and remove my furnishings, so you'll be able to move in fully by tomorrow.” This seemed to throw him for a loop. Not the resignation part, the furniture part. He must have assumed all this stuff belonged to the university.

He looked like he was going to argue with me, but he just caved. “Well, we'll certainly miss having such an esteemed scholar on our faculty,” he said. “I'm surprised you didn't wait until your sabbatical was over.”

“Thank you for your kind words,” I said, but if I would have said 'go to hell' it would have ended up the same. “I've accepted a position at Stanford and it seemed best that when I do my lectures this semester I represent the institution I'll be affiliated with.” In other words, you won't get credit for having one of your faculty members on the circuit.

“Well congratulations,” he said, shook my hand, and left my office so I could pack up my things. It took me a few hours, and during that time everyone came by to offer me best wishes. The toughest was Dave Adams, a colleague and a friend. “I feel like you're Einstein fleeing the Nazis, and the rest of us are too stupid to leave when we have the chance.” That made us both laugh. He is a bright scholar, and we both knew that his days at Northwestern were numbered too.

The movers arrived to haul off my furnishings, and in just an hour they had cleared out my office. It was sad to leave. It had been my home away from home for almost five years now, and I'd lovingly resurrected it from oblivion and made it the nicest space in the whole building. I gazed around, thinking of the good times. The time I'd had sex with Andre on the couch, or blown campus superstud Ted Bailey, or had a quick interlude with Jeff. Then I shut the door, gave the crying secretaries my keys, and closed a big door in my career, hopefully opening an even bigger one.

January 22, 1968

I flew first class now. The airports were becoming a bigger hassle, and the seats were just too small and confined. Besides, with Jeff's large frame, cramming him into one of those coach seats, especially a middle one, would have been laughable. So the three of us sat up front enjoying the space, the service, and the camaraderie. I was the sour one of the bunch, glued to the newspapers reading about the latest traumas in Vietnam.

A battle had just erupted around Khe San. From initial reports, it seemed like the North Vietnamese had caught the US and South Vietnam with their pants down. It looked to be a major engagement, and the Marines holding Khe San were being bludgeoned. I scanned the reports worriedly, looking for similarities to Dien Bien Phu, hoping that the U.S. hadn’t gotten itself into that kind of disaster. On the other hand, that disaster had brought the French out of Indochina. Would a similar disaster do the same for the US? Probably not. The resources and the psyche of the US were different. The French at least knew when to cut their losses. How many more of our young men would be killed this time? How many Vietnamese people would be obliterated in the fighting? It made my stomach turn and brought tears to my eyes, and made me a bad companion.

About midway through the flight Stefan and Jeff got up and snuck into the bathroom. Jeff gave me an apologetic look but I just giggled. About ten minutes later they both emerged to nasty stares from a stewardess, looking flushed and out of breath. Stefan sat next to me.

“So how's it feel to be a member of the mile high club?” I joked. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, allowing his lips to touch my earlobe. “It was fantastic. I'll go again if you want to.” I giggled again. He was such a little slut.

If Jeff had fucked any other guy when he was with me, I'd have been pissed, but Stefan just wasn't a threat. God I loved him, and I knew Jeff did too, but I'd never be in love with him. He was my cousin, a great friend, a terrific piece of ass, and one of the best people to hang out with.

We landed in San Francisco and drove south to Palo Alto, stopping to check into the same mediocre hotel. I'd gotten one room for all three of us, so we headed there and started unpacking. I had to make sure my outfit was crisp for tomorrow. Stefan went into the bathroom and came out stark naked with a raging hard on. “I need some help,” he pleaded, and we both started cracking up.

I was horny as hell, since I hadn't gotten any on the plane like those two, so I was out of my clothes in no time at all. Stefan jumped on the bed and got down on all fours. Stefan likes sex in any flavor, but his favorite was getting fucked. I started to move up behind him when Jeff stopped me. “Can I be in the middle this time?” he asked. In the past when we'd had threesomes, Jeff had never been the one who got fucked. He usually preferred to be the fucker, not the fuckee. I smiled at him and rubbed his ass seductively. I tried not to let it bother me that his newfound enjoyment of having a dick up his ass stemmed from his time with those hippie bastards.

He entered Stefan forcefully. Stefan didn't need foreplay; he just wanted the real deal. I took more time with Jeff. I took some perverse pleasure in the fact that it still took some work to loosen it up. In no time at all, I was standing behind him with my dick buried in him, my arms wrapped around his amazing torso, while he pounded Stefan. He went nuts. Each thrust forward almost pulled him off my cock while driving his into Stefan, then his backward thrust would almost pull his dick out of Stefan while impaling him on me. I felt him quiver in ecstasy in my hands, and I decided to deliver the coup de grace. I nuzzled his neck and started whispering in his ear. “You like that baby? You like how Stefan's ass feels wrapped around your cock? Is he making you feel as good as you're making me feel? Your hot tight ass squeezing my dick.”

I smiled as he regulated our tempo. He was completely in charge, with Stefan and I just along for the ride, and I knew I was loving it, and I could tell Stefan was too. The 19 year old Jeff would have blown by now, but 24 year old Jeff lasted longer and paced himself. It was amazing. I felt his muscular body exhausting itself with its effort, felt his sweat lubricate our bodies as we slid together, and then, when he came, his loud masculine roar sent me right over the edge. Once I came I lost my balance, my knees were so weak, and I collapsed on top of them, knocking them both down. We just lay there in a pile laughing hysterically. In a moment of rare emotion, I looked at them both seriously and let my guard completely down. “I totally love both of you,” I said. The smiles they returned told me that they were safe, that they wouldn't hurt me. At least not intentionally.

I had planned to go out and tour Palo Alto, but day faded to night quickly, and we ended up just staying in the room ordering room service. There was a cute young guy who brought our dinner. He was a total hunk. Tall and muscular with black hair and light olive skin. He fit the caricature of your typical Italian-American stud. He came into the room with our trays, finding two naked men with towels wrapped around their waists. Jeff had fled to the bathroom as soon as he'd knocked on the door. The room reeked of sex. I was embarrassed and stood off to the side, trying to blend into the background while Stefan flirted shamelessly.

“So what is your name?” Stefan asked with a leer.

“Sam,” he said shyly. Stefan extended his hand and his towel “accidentally” fell off, exposing his plump cock. “I'm Stefan,” he said, unfazed, and shook the kid's hand. “I apologize,” Stefan said as he bent over to get his towel, giving the kid a prime view of his naked ass.

“N-n-no problem,” Sam stuttered. I sidled slowly toward the bathroom, watching Stefan in action. Stefan fumbled with his towel, cursing, as if wrapping it around his waist was a problem. “You don't have to worry about it, sir,” and that got a look from Stefan, “er, I mean Stefan.”

“Thanks,” said Stefan, letting his towel fall to the floor. I snuck into the bathroom with Jeff and we peeked out, watching Stefan. Sam's pants were tenting now. “So do you go to school around here?” Stefan asked.

“Y-y-yeah, I go to school over there,” he pointed out the door but he was staring at Stefan's hardening cock. “I mean, at Stanford.”

“I don't have any cash on me,” Stefan said with his coquettish voice, “so maybe I could think up an alternative tip.” He reached out and massaged Sam's hard cock through his pants.

“I, I don't know sir, I mean Stefan. I need to get back.” But Stefan had his zipper down, and he was on his knees in no time. “Ahhhh,” Sam said. Jeff was standing behind me looking through the door with his head just above mine. I felt his cock rubbing against my ass, and he entered me while we watched Sam and Stefan.

“You want me to stop?” Stefan asked teasingly. He pulled off Sam's dick and we got a clear view. He had a good size dick. What was it with skinny guys and big dicks, and why did I only end up with six and a half inches? “No,” Sam said breathlessly.

“Where did the other guys go?” Sam asked nervously as Stefan got ready to engulf his dick.

“They're in the bathroom, probably watching us and fucking each other,” he said, as he engulfed Sam's cock. Sam looked at the door and saw our faces writhing in ecstasy and I winked at him. He smiled and relaxed and started pumping Stefan's mouth. In no time at all he came. He was cute when he came, making these little, almost feminine noises while his body quivered like it was an epileptic seizure.

Stefan licked his lips and zipped up Sam's pants. “When do you get off tonight?”

“Around 10,” said Sam.

“Maybe you could stop back by and meet my friends?” he said. Stefan was such a slut.

“I might just do that.” As he turned, flashing us his cute little ass, I felt Jeff blow his load in my ass. Stefan walked over and dropped in front of me and blew me just like he'd blown Sam. In no time at all, my load joined Sam's, shooting down Stefan's throat.

“You are such a slut,” I chided.

“But I am a good slut,” he countered, smiling up at me.

We had all showered, alone, and were kicking back watching the news when there was a knock on the door. It was 10:15. Stefan got up and answered it, letting in a very nervous Sam. The three of us lay on the beds with no clothes on at all. I giggled at the scene. Stefan helped Sam out of his clothes, and led him over to his bed.

“Hi Sam,” I said, my cock already plumping at the sight of this guy. He had the muscles of a body builder, not a Mr. Universe, but a guy who worked out regularly. There was no fat on him. Everything about him was hard as a rock. “I'm JP. This is Jeff.” Sam really eyed Jeff and I smiled. What gay guy wouldn’t? Jeff got up and shook his hand, then took Sam's legs and pulled him to the middle of his bed, spreading his legs. I moved my mouth down and met his lips. He was an awkward kisser at first, but I soon discovered that it was only because I surprised him. He moved his tongue expertly with mine, and the intensity transmitted itself down my body. I ran my hand over his solid smooth chest and flicked his cute nipples. Meanwhile Stefan took Sam's cock in his mouth again, while Jeff moved up behind Stefan and gave him what he enjoyed most of all. They were having fun, but I had the best part. This guy was a great kisser, pausing every once in awhile to take a breath and pant as Stefan worked him mercilessly. In no time at all, Sam was blasting another load in Stefan's mouth.

“I, I probably should get going,” he said nervously.

“You can if you want to, but I'd rather you stayed,” I said, moving his hand onto my hard cock. He smiled at me and gently stroked it.

“So how old are you Sam?” I asked.

“Twenty five,” he said. “I'm a grad student.” He looked awfully young to be a grad student, but why would he lie? I played with his cute little bush of pubic hair while Jeff blew Stefan.

“What department?” I asked.

“History,” he said, and Jeff stopped blowing Stefan and they both started laughing hysterically. I was mortified, so much so that I couldn't hide it. “What's so funny?” Sam demanded. I glared at them.

“You don't work on campus?” I asked.

“Not this semester. They've lined me up for a T.A. job next semester with some new professor. I'm hoping he's not a douche bag.” Stefan and Jeff started really laughing now, and even I joined in.

“What's his name?” asked Stefan

“Dr. Crampton,” said Sam. He was getting irritated. “What's so fucking funny?” They just kept laughing. “Fuck this,” Sam said, “I'm out of here.” He got up and grabbed his pants.

Stefan stopped him. “I'm so sorry Sam. I'd like to introduce you to your new boss,” he said, pointing at me.

I'm usually the model of composure and reserve, but I just put my head in my hand and blushed three shades of red. I heard Sam laughing hysterically now, and then I felt a mouth envelop my cock. I looked down to see Sam looking up at me. “It's going to be a pleasure working under you sir,” he said with a grin.

I cursed Stefan and his sluttiness for the millionth time, but Sam was pretty cute. Stefan smiled at me and moved over to play with my nipples while Sam blew me. “I think there may be something to this move to California after all,” he said, grinning at me.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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An interesting way to meet your future boss. I am not sure that I would recommend it but it worked out well this time.

Stef and JP just mesh and although the tension is there with Jeff, he seems to be moving back into the family.

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My favorite oops I just met my boss story ever :lmao:. Most enjoyable chapter, reminding of the playfulness and real love that JP, Stefan and Jeff share, thank you for your work.

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14 hours ago, PrivateTim said:

Wow, what a trip down memory lane..... Sam. Does JP fuck all his TAs?

Well, JP wasn't called an Academic Predator for nothing. 

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