Professor Winderly's Assignment Ch. 02

Part two: Blue balls

A little about Jim Doumay...

Jim was from a small ranching town in South Dakota. He was a real cowboy, hard muscled, lean, quiet. Ranch life had its advantages, but he wanted more from life. He was a good athlete and even better student. A year or two after high school, he got a job working with a dinosaur excavation team handling the excavation equipment. He could make that backhoe work as gracefully as a ballerina. Instead of reptile bones, they came across Indian artifacts. The discovery got him interested in learning more. And that led him to college, a master's, and eventually to the university where he became Dr. Winderly's graduate assistant teaching slave. Sort of a perfect circle of academic pedigree.

Living in the West with so much space gave Jim plenty of opportunity to be alone. He didn't date much in high school. But he had a very active sexual imagination, however. He spent a lot of time looking at porn and jerking off. When his parents thought he was studying for school, he was studying images on line.

He was always horny. Whenever he could, he'd take a break from fixing fences or running the baling equipment, drop his pants and masturbate under the wide sky. He imagined that he was fertilizing the ground with his semen, Hours alone on a tractor let him do a lot of thinking. So, he began to invent an elaborate ritual of the Cum People. People who worshiped cocks and cum. Women were the leaders in the CFNM fantasy he created. If he were very far away from the ranch, he would strip completely and do his chores naked.

It was exhilarating and dangerous. If he were ever caught, he would be humiliated in the small farming community. He was trapped in a vicious cycle of risk fueled by the thrill of exposing himself. He loved being naked and dreamed of letting women look at him as he did his chores. They would have to encourage him because he was so shy and guilt ridden by his unstoppable thoughts. When he jerked off he imagined a woman watching him, smiling at him, encouraging him. And he rewarded her by erupting in long waves of brilliant white cum.

He had four friends whom he drank with. They'd finish their chores and, because they were all over 18 and could convince the shopkeeper in the next county over that they were of age, could buy enough Coors to last a weekend. They said they were camping out, but really it was an excuse for them to let their hair down and get drunk. South Dakota summers are hot and the guys would strip down and go for a dunk in a cattle tank. It was like group showers: everybody was naked and aware of everyone else, but as long as everyone was naked, it didn't really matter.

They all got good looks at the equipment they were each carrying. Doug had the longest dick, Kirk the fattest. Jim and John were normal sized. And they teased one another a lot about their dicks, their ability to cum, and their adventures with the ladies. Jim didn't have much to say. He was happy just to be out in the open and on display. He liked it that he could examine the other guys' junk without worrying about being called a queer.

It was bound to happen. One of the guys had a 12-volt DVD player and monitor. And he had a stash of porn he brought out. So, not only were they naked and getting drunk, they were getting aroused watching the videos. No hiding the hardness rising in their laps. Nor did they try. One by one four cocks glistened in the blue TV light. Sliver tears drooled from the ends of their cut cocks.

Tentatively they stroked their cocks. Then as it seemed there was an agreement it was okay, they became more assertive about it. In fact, they were all very relaxed about jerking off with one another. Kirk was the first to cum, shooting onto his chest. He was too drunk to care and let the semen turn clear and drip off his side. Doug and John came next, at about the same time. They have been watching each other and nodded when they were ready to ejaculate.

They all waited for Jim to pop his load. He did not disappoint. When the scene on the monitor showed a man licking his girlfriend's ass and cunt, it was too much for him. He grunted and clenched his teeth. A white flash came flying out the end of his cock, the cum landing on his cheek. The next blast struck his throat and the numbers three, four and five splattered his belly. He was not done, but the last few spurts where not as forceful. He was breathing hard and holding his still pulsing cock.

He could tell they were watching, but no one said a word. They did grin a lot and looked at one another in amazement. "Whew!" said Jim. "I guess I needed that one, huh?" It broke the ice and their relationship took a turn for the better. Now they could freely jerk off with one another with or without the need for a video. Just seeing each other stroking was enough to get them going. They were not gay, they proclaimed often. They were just jerk-off buddies. "Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

They called themselves the Jerk Off Boys, the private club for a weekend of drinking and handfucking. They called the ritual cumfest going on a J.O.B. Search. None of their families caught on or cared very much about four healthy ranch boys getting together on the weekend to blow off a little steam.

Jim kept going on a J.O.B. Search until his college term began. They'd start up again in the summers when he returned home. Soon, though the other guys either got married or got real jobs and were not as interested in joining a circle jerk on the weekend. So, it was that Jim began to turn his attention to other things, like being more serious about studying.

The excitement of being naked and free and able to masturbate in public never left him, though. He liked being watched. And he would later discover that he also liked watching others. It was not just the J.O.B. meetings that explained his fetish. Though he was 21 and no longer in track competition, he would go out on the seldom-used fire service road and run the isolated paths in only his running shoes. Carrying his shorts in one hand and T-shirt in the other, he could quickly get dressed if he thought someone was coming. No one ever did, though.

It was always the same circuit. At first he jogged slowly and let his cock flap against his thighs. When he worked up a sweat, he would do sprints and let his cock slap against his belly. The rugged trails worked his legs hard and his breathing was deep and fast. After a few miles and steady elevation, the trail leveled a bit and he would slow down to a walk. His cock would sway with the rhythm of his gait, tapping on one thigh and then the other. Soon it would start to swell and Jim felt obliged to help the blood flow by pulling on its length. He was headed to the same place each time: a rocky ledge above one of the ranches near his home. He wanted to make it there and rub one out.

He stepped from the trees onto the rocky ledge and surveyed the land below him. It was magnificent to see all of creation spread out below him. Perched high above the valley he felt like the king of the world. Sweat ran down his body, a clean feeling of a good hard run. His cock was beam hard. His buddy Kirk's cock always stood straight up, something Jim wished his cock would do like when he was younger. He liked how proud Kirks' vertical cock looked. At his age now, Jim's cock was too big and too heavy for such boyish ability. His cock now protruded at an angle, the weight of the blood-filled sheath heavier than his muscles would hold.

Jim took his cock in his left hand and started pumping slowly. His right hand curved down to cup his balls. He looked out over the ranch below as if he were looking for someone in the pasture checking on the calves. If it were Mrs. Hanson he would hope that she would happen to glance up at the outcropping and think she saw someone naked up there. It would be too far for her to make out who it was, but she would know there was someone there. He was feeling the old tension of risk and passion dreaming of spectators to his private performace.

He stroked his hot cock deliberately but slowly. To lubricate it, he ran his hand over his sweaty chest and retuned to stroking. Up and down along the hot shaft he went. Looking at his cock, he liked what he saw. His head started to shine, smooth, and deep maroon. His right hand squeezed his balls harder. They started to climb upward signaling he was getting close to the edge.

He looked again at the ranch below and saw a truck pull into the barn lot. It was his neighbor, a nicely shaped woman about his mother's age. He knew her daughters from 4-H. Mrs. Hanson got out of the truck carrying groceries to the house. He wanted to hold off until she was returning from the house. She'd at least be facing in his general direction and maybe she would chance to look up.

He edged slowly, hoping to delay his ejaculation. Sure enough she came out of the house and down the steps toward the truck. He wanted so much to cum when she was facing him, imagining that he was showing off his manhood to her.

He worked his cock watching her. A long strand of pre-cum flailed in the air. He felt the hollow feeling in his chest that accompanied a strong orgasm. He knew this one would be big.

His fist started pounding hard up and down the length. The sensation changed so fast, he was surprised when the orgasm took hold. A cry escaped his lips. A bolt of cum burned as it rushed up through his penis. His hips bucked as he felt the first ejaculation. Semen soared out of his cockhead and splattered on the rock.

He closed his eyes as the second volley flew outward, farther and thicker than the first. Three more heavy loads of cum left his body and arced over the rocks. He staggered a bit but he was not done. He kept stroking and prepared to send his last load forward. It lay at the bottom of his cock waiting.

Finally he summoned it up. He squeezed his anus and threw his hips forward urging the sperm to release. His cock sheath squeezed as the cum rose upward. At last, the cumbolt oozed out and dropped between his shoes. A thick splat on the ground confirmed it was a heavy pool of cum.

Jim took a ragged breath and stumbled, still holding his cock. He blinked and refocused. Below him Mrs. Hanson was standing at the side of her truck looking up at him. His cry had echoed off the hills causing her to look up. Innocently, he waved to her. And she waved back. She had been studying the naked man on the outcropping.

She was certain it was Jim Domay; her girls said they had seen him running the forest service roads, naked a couple of times when they were out picking blueberries. The girls giggled about not being seen as he raced by. Mrs. Hanson just smiled and told them not to embarrass him if they caught him running like that again. "He needs his privacy just like all of us do."

She studied the naked man on the outcropping until he moved back into the woods. Then she reached in the truck and pulled another bag of groceries out and headed to the house. It crossed her mind that she might like seeing him a little closer sometime. A twinge crossed her thighs as she carried the bags to the house.

Jim wasn't out of breath from running, but from a satisfying orgasm. The king of the hill had taken his scepter and held it out over the valley for anyone to see. He showered creation with his blessed sap. The power of his orgasm he gave to the world below him. He felt triumphant.

As he gathered his breath, he felt cooler. His cock was limp and sagged, a drip of semen clung to the tip of his penis. He scooped it with his finger and brought it to his lips. He spread over his lips like a balm. He had tasted his own semen this way, but was too chicken to actually lick and swallow his own cum. He wanted to, of course. All men do. Until they cum. It was the same with Jim. The build up fueled the desire, but the ejaculation drained him of that same desire.

Back to the story, now... Jim was still caught up in the conversation he had just had with his professor. Mindlessly, he pulled his bike from the rack and hopped on. He sat down hard and noticed that his balls ached. Not from the ass-splitting seat, but from —strangely—blue balls. Hell, he hadn't had blue balls since high school. In fact, he hadn't really had much in the way of sexual urges since college. Grad school just sucked all passion and life out of you.

But his balls ached as he pedaled across campus. He was aroused by talking so frankly about studying men and their pricks. He turned down a wooded path behind the Language Arts Building and came to a stop. Rising from the seat, he stuffed his hand down the font of his jeans and grabbed his cock pulling it upward. "Ahh..," that felt better. At least it could unwind now. It felt good to have his hand on his penis.

Jim looked around. No one was near. He unbuttoned the top of his jeans and pulled his zipper down. Even more relief for his cramped man parts. He pulled on his cotton shorts and the air suddenly felt cool on his cock. Jim sat on the bike feeling free even if his cock was only partially exposed. He could pull his fly up and appear to be lost in thought should anyone appear. He was quite practiced at the art of daring to be exposed, but always able to cover up quickly.

He pulled his cock out and his pants down a bit so that as he pedaled his cock could wave back and forth. He could drop his tee shirt over the end of his cock whenever someone would pass by. This way he could keep his hard-on as he rode home. His managed to keep his cock was out in the open as he rode home. The rushing air over his cock head gave him a sense of freedom and energy. He didn't feel like a dummy now. He felt like the king of creation.

He was caught up in his own phallic ritual. He certainly enjoyed having his hard cock fully exposed. It was powerful. And he certainly knew how it felt to be in a group of men who also liked being naked and hard and outside. He knew the feeling well, but had put it away a long time ago.

He pedaled the rest of the way back to his studio apartment with his cock out. He was so horny and bold that he pulled his pants down far enough to let his balls have some freedom as well. At the apartment, he hopped off the bike and carried it over one shoulder. He passed two women going in the other direction, his cock standing proudly, parallel to the ground and clearly visible. They never even saw it because it was just another heavy tube somewhere in the junction of other tubes of his mountain bike

He climbed the three flights with the bike hoisted over one shoulder and his courier bag over the other. Once inside the cramped apartment, Jim stripped the rest of his clothes and pulled the drapes back on the sliding glass doors.

He could open the glass doors, step out and yet remain in the shade, watching the activity at the pool below. Only the most observant person would be able to make out the virile man stroking himself on the balcony three floors up. Jim hoped someone would be looking upward as they lounged on their beach chairs. Anxiously, he stepped farther into the sunlight. Finally, he was so bold as to stand in full sun stroking himself for any person who wanted to see. The sun was hot and he enjoyed the feeling of stroking in the broad daylight. He was getting into a rhythm. Then suddenly another sliding glass door next door scraped as it open and Jim darted back inside. He wanted to be seen and yet was filled with shame that he wanted it so much.

Why couldn't he just be one person or the other? A decent gentleman who wasn't a pervert or a freedom-loving hedonist. Wasn't that was life offered? A choice? He was always on the horns of a dilemma.

He finished off what turned out to be a dribbling, unsatisfying orgasm and took a shower. He hit the books that night trying to shape a plan of study for his dissertation. He was so eager to see what Dr. Winderly had in store for him the next morning, he hardly slept.