The Most Unbelievable Love Story

The Most Unbelievable Love Story

This story tells how two people from very different backgrounds find each other, fall in love, and endure time & society. The story is about the love between two men and in some parts a graphic description of gay oral sex. If this is not your cup of tea, I would not be offended if you stopped reading. If you have ever experienced love by chance, you may want to keep reading.

There was 2:19 seconds left in the second half. Syracuse was only up by 3 points and the weaker opponent had battled back from 22 down at the half. I am sitting five rows behind the Syracuse bench and filled with anxiety as the final seconds tick off the clock. The two children that flank me sensed my nervousness and clung to me in concern. I glance down at one of the coaches sitting on the bench. He turns around and shoots me a slightly concerned look. The last seconds finally expire, and Syracuse escapes with a one-point victory. Finally, I could take a breath!

How I came to be at this location at this time is a story for ages. I'm sure one that my kids will tell their kids. It all started one afternoon in the men's shower in the LeMoyne College athletic center. I had just finished my quarter mile swim and was showering before heading back to my office. I came to LeMoyne College six years ago as a freshman from the nearby town of Liverpool, NY. I chose LeMoyne because it was a Jesuit school and had small class sizes, which matched my learning style. I majored in psychology and after completing my bachelor's degree stayed and enrolled in the College Student Personnel Administration Program (CSPA).

During the final weeks of my master's program, one of my professors approached me after class and asked what my plans were after graduation. I only sporadically looked at job openings and didn't want to think of having to move. My professor asked if I knew that the current Director of Student Activities was finally retiring. He was old and out of touch with the younger generation and the college welcomed the change. The leaders of the college wanted someone younger and someone that could connect better with the students. My professor knew that my friends and I were active on-campus, having seen me at several events. As an undergrad and as a grad, I had a big group of friends that couldn't sit still. Several of my friends played sports and we attended all of their games. We were the exuberant fans high in the stands with posters and screaming support for our beloved Dolphins (FYI the LeMoyne mascot is a Dolphin-why a dolphin in central New York-who knows?). We also attended every guest lecturer/singer/politician/etc. We went prepared with thought-out questions and the organizers always loved to see us in attendance because we represented the school well.

My professor recommended me to the hiring committee, and I went for an interview. I already had a million ideas in my head for various new events and activities if I was hired. I must have impressed them because they cancelled the other interviews and offered me the job the next day. It was mid-June, and I was preparing for freshman orientation at the end of July. The athletic center offered faculty/staff only swim from Noon to 2pm each day and I took advantage of it. I could no longer swim as fast as I did as a teenager and felt like I was in the way when trying to swim laps with the students, so the blocked time allowed me to go at my slower pace and not feel guilty. I calculated that I could walk the short distance from my office to the pool, swim a quarter mile and be back within my hour lunch - factoring in time to change and shower - if I could maintain a decent pace. The only staff & faculty that swam were older and I could easily keep up with them. It was a great stress reliever and I started going each day.

It was Friday afternoon and I had just finished my quarter mile at a record pace, maybe the several cups of coffee I consumed that morning. I was in my usual place; the last shower head on the right side rinsing the chlorine off when I heard a voice to my right. I turned to look and a handsome young African American guy, probably in his early twenties and 5'9" was trying to get my attention. I finished rinsing and turned off the water to better hear him. He pointed and said that he liked my tattoos.

The history of my tattoos: One night after drinking near Syracuse University walking back to our dorms at LeMoyne my group stopped at a tattoo parlor. We started channeling our deepest hippie personas and we all got granola tattoos. I remembered an old Greenpeace sign that had the Earth symbol (a circle with a line across it representing the Equator) then "Greenpeace" below it then a peace symbol below that. I decided to forgo the "Greenpeace" and have the two symbols connected. I had that put on my right shoulder and a humpback whale breaching on my left shoulder.

I thanked him for his compliment and noticed a tattoo on his left bicep. It had a heart and the words "Forever in my heart" with initials below it. I pointed to it and made a comment on how I liked tattoos that had deep meaning versus stupid things like cartoon characters. He said it was for his mother that died when he was five years old from a drug overdose. As I we were chatting, I realized who this young man was from a recent posting on the college athletic page. I look at him and said, "You're Malik Thompson, our new starting point guard!" He was shocked that I knew that, and I stuck out my hand and introduced myself.

We walked to our lockers and continued our impromptu conversation while drying off. During which I could not help but notice his enormous dick. I estimated that it had to be at least six inches flaccid. His whole body was ripped and had the best stomach I have seen in a long time. I asked him what he thought our chances were to have a winning season. Our basketball team has been horrible for over ten years, yet my friends & I continued to support the team in our usual ADHD way. Malik was brought in as hired gun for just one season. He played at Rhode Island for three years and was redshirted his freshman year leaving one year of NCAA eligibility. He was in the top five in scoring in their league each of his three years.

He was originally from Syracuse and played high school ball at Henniger High School in the city. I remember hearing on the news about him setting state records. I asked him how he ended up back at LeMoyne. He completed his bachelor's at Rhode Island in Sports Management and was drawing interest from Euro League teams. He said that his grandparents weren't able to travel due to health issues and hardly saw him play at Rhode Island. By coming back home they could at least see him play for one year. So, he chose LeMoyne as a grad transfer and enrolled in the accelerated MBA Program. This meant he had to take summer classes. Between training for the upcoming season and taking classes he was on-campus a lot. He lived with his grandparents to save money.

I apologized to him for having to cut our conversation short, but I needed to get back to work. I thanked him for a nice chat and told him that I would like to ask him more questions about the team. I told him that I was meeting a couple friends at our favorite brew pub for dinner and could score major points if I showed up with the new Dolphin Savior! He agreed to meet me.

Back in my office that afternoon I had a hard time concentrating. I kept reviewing the conversation with Malik in my head and couldn't remove the images of his giant penis and washboard stomach. I Googled him and tried to find out everything I could about him. To clarify, I'm not a stalker. I am 28 years old, single, and bi-sexual (maybe gay?). I've always loved the human body and all its variations. I find myself romantically attracted to what's inside a person, not what sex they are. I have dated mostly women, but in recent years have found myself more drawn to men. Seeing Malik naked only reinforced my desire to be physical with another guy. The hours ticked off slow that afternoon.

I was thrilled when I saw Malik pull into the brew pub. I introduced him to my two buddies, and we had dinner. After dinner, we migrated to the bar to have a few more drinks. I asked him about his time at Rhode Island and his offers to play overseas. He said he delayed deciding because of the health of his grandparents. He said he had an older sister named Mariah that looked after them while he was RI. He wanted to give her a break and help with their care. I was impressed with the maturity of this 22-year-old. We talked for a couple hours, my two friends realizing what my true interest was and left earlier.

Malik and I exchanged contact information and agreed to meet for lunch Sunday at my favorite sandwich shop in Armory Square. After lunch I invited him back to my apartment to watch college basketball. I got a couple of beers and sat next to him on the couch. UConn was playing Georgetown - the new Big East. I hated Georgetown from the battles with Syracuse before SU left for the ACC. I didn't pay much attention to the game and basically sat sideways facing Malik. I finally had the courage to ask him how he got such hard abs. I admitted that was my favorite part of the human body - man or woman. I confessed that it was hard not to look at his chiseled stomach when we first met in the showers. He laughed because he swore, I was staring at his cock. I was looking at that too but didn't admit it just then.

I asked him if I could feel his abs, but really didn't wait for an answer as I placed my hand on his mid-section. Even through his shirt it felt washboard-like, it was so ripped that you could grate cheese on it. I asked if I could see it (again) as before I didn't wait for an answer and pulled up his shirt. My hands immediately attacked his skin. After caressing his stomach for several minutes, I slid my hand up under his shirt to feel his pecs. I snuck in a few squeezes of his nipples at which he made a soft whimper. My hand dropped back down for more tummy time.

Then I owned up to the fact that while staring at his stomach in the showers I couldn't help but gape at the mammoth member between his legs. I looked him the eyes as my fingers slid under the waistband of his shorts and asked, "Can I?" He gave a slight nod, slid down further on the couch, and spread his legs apart more. I gently stroked the top of his penis before sliding my fingers around it. It was so girthy that my fingertips barely touched. It must have been almost seven inches flaccid, and nine or ten inches erect. All I could wonder is how he could run up and down the court with this anchor hanging between his legs. It had to be the world's strongest jock strap!

After a few minutes of my attention, it started to become engorged. It tented his shorts, stretching them to their limits. To relieve the pressure and to get a better view, I slid off the couch and kneeled in front of him. Grabbing the waistband on both hips and with a little lift of his body, I slid his shorts down and off. It looked like a giant sea serpent with a head the size of a small plum (and about the same color). I could see how a small third-world culture could worship something like this, I know I would!

The head glistened with drops of precum, I so badly wanted to taste him, but decided to start by sucking and licking his purse sized ball sack. I stoked his shaft with my right hand while my left cradled his scrotum so I could get the best tongue action. I slowly licked my way up the length of his skyscraper until I reached the top. I slithered my tongue all over the head. His precum was sweeter than I thought it would be. I had only sucked two other guys and everything that spewed from them was either salty or musky. I put the head into my mouth, stretching the corners of my lips. Not trying to foreshadow anything or jinx myself, but I wondered how this would ever fit in my bottom if my mouth could barely fit it.

I was only able to go down an inch or so in his shaft before the enormous head hit my tonsils. I had to be very careful to keep my teeth from grazing him. I didn't want this to be the first and last time I got to play with this endangered beast. As I did my little head bobs on his cock, the index finger on my left handle tickled his perineum and kneaded his balls like a lump of clay. After about ten minutes of stimulation, I noticed his body starting to squirm a little. I could feel his testicles preparing to fire and focused my attention just on the head, keeping my mouth directly over it to accept the firehose of cum that I thought his huge rocks would generate. The first shot of cum fired like a rocket. I quickly gulped it down in anticipation of another blast. He shot four times and I felt full of the quart of his cum I consumed.

He thanked me and said it had been a long time since someone had given him that kind of attention. I wanted to thank him! I climbed back up on the couch and put my arms around him and buried my head in his chest. I didn't try to kiss him because some people are weird about tasting their own bodily fluids. One girl I dated made me brush my teeth after eating her pussy before she would kiss me again.

I was shocked when he reached and started rubbing my groin. He looked at me and asked if he could reciprocate. He told me to lay lengthwise on the couch and he pulled my shorts off. He kissed my inner thighs and took each of my little nuggets completely into his mouth. He then consumed my entire penis in one descent. His tongue swirled all around my whole length. It felt like my dick was in a human carwash. I only last about three minutes before spitting my small load into his mouth. I flipped positions with him, so he was now laying on his back lengthwise and I nestled between his legs with my head on his stomach. He lightly ran his fingers through my hair.

We started spending a lot of time together and were mindful of those that saw us together. Student and Staff relationships are strictly forbidden. I lived had an apartment on the backside of Syracuse hill, not far from LeMoyne. His grandparents lived a little further away. I gave Malik an extra key so he could crash for a few minutes between classes. He even left a change of clothes in case he needed to stay overnight.

The summer sped past and I was engrossed in my new job. Malik was busy with training camp, caring for his grandparents and classes. We spent as much time together as we could but understood our commitments.

As the fall semester and the basketball season started, I was in heaven. I loved engaging with the students and organized events that saw record turnouts. The upper classmen were impressed, and campus life was great. For every home basketball game, I organized pregame activities, and we had the arena rocking. I loved watching Malik play. He was really a floor general, and the game seemed to slow down when he was on the court. He made his teammates better and when the others struggled to make shots, he took over the game. I loved it when he drove to basket, his upper body was so strong that he could absorb the contact and still make the shot.

People would see Malik and I together but never thought anything of it because of my job and I had always attended games long before he arrived. At this point we were only close friends, but we could feel our affection towards one another growing. I would travel to away games when I could leave campus. I wanted to be there to support him. I would also help his sister when she brought his grandparents to games. I would meet her at the entrance when she dropped them off. I had a couple of my Resident Assistants there with wheelchairs and blankets to cover them. I felt like I was becoming a part of their family. Mariah never asked me about my relationship with Malik. I think she was surprised that her black brother that grew up in the city with gangs all around him would form a "friendship" with an older white guy from the suburbs like me.

Malik and I never discussed what to call our relationship. We tried not to let it show while on campus. I didn't want to jeopardize my job nor Malik's spot on the team. So, we hid our growing love for each other from the outside world. We both felt it, but never crossed that line to make it physical yet.

The day after the season ended in March, the team was celebrating a winning season, 12-9 record was posted and mostly because of Malik. The next night while Malik and I were watching a movie at my apartment his sister called to say their grandmother had fallen. We met his sister at the hospital and the initial x-rays showed a broken hip. She had surgery and went to rehab. Malik helped every second he could. A few weeks after returning home and being less mobile, she developed a severe case of pneumonia and was hospitalized. She died a week later.

Malik's grandfather longed for his wife of almost sixty years and only lasted two months after she passed. I was there for him through the wakes and funerals but felt horrible that I couldn't give myself fully to him out of fear that our relationship would become known. Malik knew how it tore me apart and the day of his grandfather's wake he came back to my apartment (our apartment) after the viewing to find me crying sitting on my bed.

He came in and put his strong arm around me and turned my face to his. "Don't beat yourself up. I know you would be right next to me holding my hand through this if you could. I love you Aiden." He gently kissed me for the very first time. I had waited for that moment since we first met in the showers that day in June. Nine months later I finally felt his lips on mine. I had a strong upper body from swimming, but when he wrapped his arms around me, I felt ensnared in a bear trap. We laid on the bed together on our sides, he was behind me with his vice grip arm around me kissing my cheek and the nape of my neck. It made me calm, and I wanted nothing more than to give myself to him completely. I belonged to him. He owned my heart.

After a few hours we got up to get a drink and then re-assumed the earlier position and spent the night like that. The next day was the funeral. Malik was up early preparing for the reading he was scheduled to give. He hated public speaking, so I told him to stare directly at me while speaking. I told him to recite it to me in the church just like he was doing at home. When he took the podium later that morning, we locked eyes, and he gave a masterful recitation. I was so proud of him, and my eyes began to tear.

In the months after the season ended, Malik started to receive offers from several European teams, but opted to try out for NBA G League teams so he can stay closer to home...to me. He signed with the Westchester Knicks, about a five-hour drive from Syracuse. The name "Westchester" was a misnomer, they actually played at an arena in Bridgeport, Connecticut. Some of his teammates ask if he wanted to share an apartment but he opted for a little place on his own, away from where most of the team lived. This helped avoid questions when I visited on weekends. He got me comp tickets for home games and I travel for some away games.

After two seasons with Westchester, he was traded to the Indiana Mad Ants in Indianapolis. I took a job at Butler University and moved to Indiana with him. The job was a step down in level and pay, but I was with the person I loved.

On a trip home to Syracuse for the holidays, Malik blindfolded me and brought me into the showers at LeMoyne where we first set eyes on each other, then got down on one knee and proposed. We got married that summer in a small ceremony with Mariah, some of his former teammates and my crazy friends. Yes, they brought signs and even an air horn.

After three seasons with the Mad Ants Malik's contract was not renewed. He debated whether to try out for other G League teams, look at playing in Europe, look for coaching positions or look for a job outside of basketball entirely. At this same time, LeMoyne had just hired a new head coach, the former head coach of the G League Cleveland Charge. He was looking for assistant coaches and remembered Malik from coaching against him. He signed Malik as an assistant, and we moved back to Syracuse.