Geoff and Chet Ch. 20

"Let's get out of here. It's hot."

"I think you're the one who is hot." We dressed and went back to the apartment.

Unpredictably, my roommate was back from New York for a few days of meetings with his advisors. "So let's detour to your dorm." He paused, obviously wondering what his suite mates would think if he walked in with a tall black buck--me. Both of us were sporting wet worn-out-from-sex looks.

"Okay, let's go." He called my bluff! He must be really hot for my dick.

Minutes later we walked into his suite and through the common area, headed for his room. Most of his friends--I didn't recognize any teammates--were watching the end of the game. Seeing them, I quickly dropped my hand which was hooked into his waistband and fanned out over his ass. But it was too late. Several of the guys caught the motion. All eyes were on us. One short stocky guy even whistled. "What the fuck!"

We went into his room. Pete locked the door and after just a moment of indecision, said, "I need you in me now. I need to feel that dick inside. I want your hot seed deep up in my gut. I want to be branded. I know I'm bi--and I guess I'm ready to come out to my buds. I'll tell the team next time we meet. Fuck it. I have no professional aspirations. I don't need to worry about national cycling homophobia. They can't try to throw me off the RCC, or Rice will hit them with ultimatums up the whazoo. I want to feel your big long black cock up my ass...now." With that he unbuttoned my belt-less jeans and pulled my dick out--maybe the first time I had gone commando in three years. How ironic, Mr. CK without undies! He sucked me into his hot wet mouth, while handing me a bottle of lube. Then he quickly turned, stripped and stretched out on his chest spread-eagled on his single bed. He lifted his ass toward me and said, "Come on, Reg, do me. I want you in all the way this time. Last night was just a teaser."

I need to think about how to handle this. My mind was spinning. The team knows we've been bros for the last two weeks. If this vanilla boy suddenly announces he's bi--or gay--they'll certainly guess who he is playing homoerotic games with. He may not care. His spot on the team is secure. But, I do have professional aspirations. And I have that damned morals clause to deal with. I can be flamboyant--my personality demands that. But, I can't be an outed or confirmed gay--let alone blackballed--what an interesting image for me a black boy--for pro status. It would ruin me. I'm really not into this boy--although that round white ass is certainly tempting. Think, Reg. This needs to be very quick. There are a half dozen guys out there who know we are in here and their twenty-something, horny brains are working overtime imagining the possibilities.

"We are not going to do this now or here." I pulled up the jeans and pulled the hoodie down over my erection and open fly, snatched a book from his desk, and left the room. As I closed the door, many turned from the TV to stare. (Maybe second-guessing their first assumptions?) I looked at the widescreen and in my deeply masculine voice, I asked, "What's the score, guys?" Holding up the book, I added, "I needed this book for tomorrow, and Pete offered to lend it to me. Get your homo minds out of the gutter, guys. See you around." And I left, hopefully defusing matters--but certainly giving me deniability.

But, I had just yielded an enormous amount of hard-earned power--and probably wasted two weeks on Pete. Only to be cock-blocked by my never-there roommate. And I never even got to fuck him. Shit.