Markwildyr.com,Post #260

Image Courtesyof Vecteezy:

 

Well, did hunky Bunny turn out okay?

 

Today, we’ll do a repost, although Ican’t find the original post. It had to be somewhere around January of 2008,and I’ve revised it, so hopefully, you won’t mind too much.

 

* * * *

COMING OUT IS THE PITS

 

What is it with this “comingout” crap anyway? It took eighteen years to come out to myself, and only thenbecause this jock cornered me in the upstairs stacks of the school library. Mystomach dropped nervously, but my toes curled in excitement when he took whathe wanted. When I accidentally—kinda—saw him again, I figured he wouldn’t wantanything to do with me, but I was wrong. I got a kick out of reducing that machohunk to absolute putty. After that, the die was cast.

Eventually, I came out tomy best friend and lost a lifelong buddy. My big brother called me a snot-nosedpansy and threatened to beat me to a pulp. My mother cried herself sick, and myfather swelled up like a puff adder. At that point, I shut down the “coming out”process.

My parents sent me to anout-of-state university rather than the local community college, probably toget me out of their hair. My name, by the way, is Quentin Utley Ramson, and ifmy initials didn’t clue my parents, they aren’t the bright folks the neighborsbelieve them to be. So far as I’m concerned, there won’t be any “coming out” atthe U. That’s over. Kaput—except—well, there’s this guy I sorta like. Mydorm mate.

Carlton Easton Eavesisn’t the snob he sounds. He puts his pants on and laces his sneakers all byhimself like one of the masses. He moves well in the pool, plays a mean set oftennis, and probably polos okay, too. But he rides rodeo, and that’s a plebeiansport if there ever was one. We’ve gotten pretty chummy, and that brings me tothe nub of my present problem.

East asked me to doubledate with him tomorrow night. Damn! Why can’t we just go to the moviestogether? Why mess it up with a couple of girls?

“Hi, Ram,” he said,materializing at my side on the quadrangle. That was something else I likedabout him, he calls me Ram, which sounds—well, studly. The main thing I digabout East is his six-foot, tapered frame with lean hips and a groin to go downfor! Of course, his corn-colored hair and curious blue eyes and broad, laughingmouth and bronze skin are considerations also. Why the hell he bummed aroundwith olive-skinned, brown-eyed me, I hadn’t figured out yet. I had quickly learnedto avoid the shower room like a vat of acid when he’s in there lest I make afool out of myself. There’s more than one way of coming out, you know.

“Got a date yet?” heposed the dreaded query.

“Maybe you better getsomebody else to go with you,” I blurted in a moment of weakness. “I don’t knowany girls yet.”

“No, way! Get a date. It’llbe fun. Catch you later!” He gave me a manly punch on the shoulder and peeledoff for his own class.

Mary Quadrill, the girlwho sat beside me in Freshman English, was handy, so I blurted out aninvitation just as the class settled into the pre-lecture silence.

“Well, Miss Quadrill,please give Mr. Ramson your answer so the class can turn to more mundaneaffairs,” our prof said dryly.

My ears were aflame, and Mary’scheeks looked like Bette Davis’s in WhateverHappened to Baby Jane.

“Uh—yeah. Yes, I’d liketo go,” the poor girl stuttered.

Despite that promisingstart, things went downhill from there. The movie was okay, but cost too much. Myarm went to sleep over the back of the seat, and afterward, we went to a beerjoint. Frankly, I’m not accustomed to drinking.

When we left the bar, Eastparked on the bluff above the reservoir and turned to his girl, a blonde namedBunny or Billie or something like that. It wasn’t long before they slid downout of sight, and I was alone in the back with a girl.

We smooched, and to mysurprise, I worked up a little steam while listening to the noises from thefront. Mimicking what I thought was going on up there, I dug one of Mary’sboobs out of her brassiere and, ignoring her protest, went for the nipple likea newborn babe. I’d just glommed on to the pink little thing when she twistedmy ear painfully. My cries of “Oh—oh—oh!” went nasal when she got my nosebetween two fingers!

“Behave now?” shewhispered in a lady-like snarl.

“Yeah—yeah!” I whimpered,nodding my head and earning more pain. The pressure was suddenly released, andI straightened up to rearrange my clothing and dignity. Shit! It wasn’t right;paying with an earache for something I didn’t enjoy. Mary was restoring her titto its proper place when East popped up and grinned at me knowingly. Hell’sbells! He’d hit a home run, and all I got was a sore nose and bruised ear.

I expected a karate kickto the groin when we took the girls to their dorm door, but she claimed she’dhad a good time and said we’d have to do it again.

East was restless anddrove around for a few minutes until he found a place to take a piss in thebushes. I wanted to go hold it for him, but couldn’t get up the nerve. Ifingered myself through my trousers while watching his broad back and trimbutt—a mistake because I had to work hard to hide a horrendous bone when he gotback in the car.

“Man,” he moaned as heslammed the door. “I hurt! Haven’t had a nut ache in years.”

I jumped in surprise. He hadn’t made it with Bunny or Billie.

“Lucky dog. Mary’s prettyfoxy,” he went on, tearing me away from his nut ache and the mental image thatconjured. “At least you’re not in my shape.”

He thought I’d made itwith Mary! What the hell made him believe that? Probably those “ohs” and“yeahs” I gave while in Mary’s painful embrace.

I forgot forswearing “comingout” and all that crap and blurted what was sitting right there on the tip ofmy tongue. “I-I, uh, could help you if you’re suffering that much.

“You’d do that for meeven—you know—even though you made it with Mary?”

“Hey, man, what areroomies for? Gotta take care of one another.” Brave words, but my insides werefluttering around like crazy.

“You sure, Ram?”

Not about to let thisopportunity get away, I reached over and touched him where it counted.

He leaned back in theseat and breathed an “ahhhh.”

I told my fingers to playit cool, but they jerked at his belt so hard, he finally pushed my hands awayand freed himself. My dreams were fulfilled when he was exposed to my eyes.Rigid, rampant, and ready.

I stroked him for awhilebringing little moans and groans out of him, but before long I lost control anddid what I wanted. “East,” I said, “this is only for you.”

With that, I lowered myhead and was rewarded with the biggest groan of the evening. He enjoyed my ministrationsfor a few minutes before speaking.

“R-Ram, uh, why don’t wego back to the room. We—oh, man, that felt good—we can get naked and go to bed.”

I came up like a shot. “Deal.”

I had to keep telling himto slow down on the race back to the dorm. Not that I wasn’t in a hurry, but Idamned sure didn’t want a cop to stop us. Writing a ticket and suffering hislecture would’ve cost too much time.

And when the door to ourdorm room closed behind me, Carlton Easton Eaves stripped me naked andinspected every inch of my body before shoving me down on the bed. Then he and rodeme like the rodeo champ he was.

 

*.*.*.*.

I get thefeeling that Ram’s “coming out” was finally successful. What do you think?

 

My new anthology,Huntinghawk,was released in February as an Ebook by JMS Books with theprint version to follow soon. Hope you’ll give it a read.

 

My contactinformation is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:

Website and blog: markwildyr.com

Email:markwildyr@aol.com

Facebook:www.facebook.com/mark.wildyr

X: @markwildyr

 

Now mymantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing.You have something to say, so say it! (Don Travis keeps reminding me I stole it from him, but he didn’tcopyright it. His bad.)

 

See you later.

 

 

Mark

 

New posts first and third Thursday of the month at 6:00a.m., US Mountain time.