Luke at University Pt. 01

"I've wanted you ever since the day I arrived," he said and kissed me back passionately, almost violently. "But Yorkshiremen are not forthcoming about their emotions, and I couldn't be sure that you were gay. Especially when I saw you trying to fight off that guy in the pub, I wasn't sure about your sexuality." I started to undress him, beginning with his shoes and socks. As I pulled them off, he said, "When I found that you had money, I thought that you would be able to buy anyone you wanted, so why should you be interested in me? Besides, I'm not very sexually experienced. Most of my teenage years I spent burning with unrequited lust for straight boys."

"But just by coming to Buckingham, you were sending out a gay signal!" I said.

"You might find this hard to believe," he said, "but at the time that I applied, I didn't know about Buckingham's gay reputation! I was the only boy from our school who was considered Camford material, and no-one told me about its history. I knew I was gay, and I felt no desire to sit across the table from girls when eating meals, and I have to admit that I thought I was more likely to meet a man that I fancied in an all-male college."

"It was just the opposite for me," I said, "my two fathers both thought that I should go either to Winton, as I had been a choirboy there, or to Boni's which is their old college, and certainly not to Buckingham with its gay reputation."

"TWO fathers?"

"Yes, my parents are two gay men. I was adopted at the age of one year, and my sister was born to a surrogate mother. One of my fathers is my biological uncle, I was the bastard son of his sister. My other father is the biological father of my sister. They were a bit disappointed when I told them I was gay. They had hoped that sometime I might give them grandchildren." And I showed him the newspaper clipping of Chapter 19.

"You've come out to your parents, then?"

"Yes, it was very easy for me of course. They could scarcely have disapproved! Have you come out at home?"

"No, I don't know how to do it. I decided to wait till I had a better idea of what sort of a gay I was going to be. I'm pretty sure that I want to find the right man and settle down in a permanent relationship. But there seem to be so many gays who just want to fuck around, and I decided that I need more sexual experience. What about you?"

"I've not had much sexual experience, just with one boy at school. But my religious belief won't allow me to fuck around. Any relationship I have has to be one that at least potentially leads to a permanent union. And it might just be with you! When we were at the Olympic Pool, in the showers, didn't you notice the hard-on that I had every time I looked at you? I was dead scared that if you were straight you would get the wrong message! But we need to get to know each other more, both personally and carnally!" and with that I started to take my clothes off.

"Don't do that! Let me do it!" said Tom, and began to pull off my trainers and socks.

"Do you know," I said, "no-one would ever believe that we slept together last night without any sex!"

"I was too drunk to do anything but get close to you!" Tom replied. "There's nothing like a drink for removing inhibitions!" he said as he pulled my shirt over my head. He started to kiss my neck and shoulders. He was a much better kisser than Mark had been. I realized that, though I as yet did not know much about him, I was falling in love.

"Yes, I've noticed how much more human and relaxed you are after even just one drink. Why are you so uptight?"

"That's a long story," he said, "best kept till we know one another better!" By now we were both naked and could look at one another properly, rather than sneaking sly glances, as we had done hitherto. Looking at Tom, what I saw pleased me mightily. His fully erect dick was a good 18-20 cm long, and smooth rather than lumpy and veiny. He was busily engaged in nibbling my right nipple. He would get hold of the hair round it with his teeth and gently pull the hair. The slight pain made both my nipples stiffen. Then he started to move his lips down between my nipples and across my belly till he reached my belly-button, where he started kissing and nuzzling again, as he followed my treasure-trail across my belly and reached my pubic hair. All I could do at that moment was to rub my hands through his hair, down his shoulders and back and rub his furry posterior, which felt like heaven. My cock was rock-hard and oozing precome. He started to lick the precome off the glans and began gently to nibble my rolled-back foreskin. I was transported with bliss. Mark had never had this effect on me. How, how could this dour northerner stir up such feelings in me? The next minute the head of my dick was in his mouth and he was running his tongue all over it. I groaned with pleasure and tenderness. "I love you, stud-boy Tom!" I said, as he pushed my tool deeper into his mouth. Although he could not speak, his face flushed with pleasure at my words of love.

Chapter 25

Continuation in the bedroom

When I came out to my parents, Dad gave me a book and ordered me to read it. What I read became the basis of my life, as it always had been of his. The book was 'Spiritual Friendship' (De Spirituali Amicitia) by Aelred of Rievaulx, a famous twelfth-century monk, and later Abbot, of the Cistercian monastery of Rievaulx in Yorkshire, and probably one of the most holy and distinguished men that the great county of Yorkshire has ever produced. (The other was Alcuin). I could have read it in the original Latin, but Dad gave me an English version.

As a man of his time, Aelred inevitably had to deprecate the carnal aspects of man-man love (after all, monks have to swear to chastity), but he was the first Christian writer that I know of who could affirm in the strongest possible terms, the spiritual value and enormous strength of love between two men. My deep faith, always nourished and supported by both my fathers, could only justify sexual relationships between men based on mutual love. Any other relationships are casual fucking about, and that struck me as the last resort of men who are desperate for physical contact. But it is clear from reading Aelred that physical contact is nothing without love. It's also obvious that physical contact is not necessary for deep love between men, and I think that most men, especially the old and the young, have personal experience of loving their male friends, without any suggestion of sex in the relationship. But nevertheless, I think that it is built into the male psyche that the best and strongest love is that which is sealed and reinforced by sexual relations.

But why am I philosophizing when, you, the reader, want to know what happened on the sofa? 'Get on with the sexy part' I can hear you saying.

I said to Tom, "I don't want to come just yet, and you've brought me pretty near, let's go and get on my bed." We went into my bedroom, I spread a big towel on top of my bed and lay on it on my back. I got Tom to straddle me facing my feet and bend forward to suck my dick, while I rimmed his arse, which was conveniently in my face. It was delicious. His sweat felt fresh and sweet and I licked the hair in his crack and chewed the sides before thrusting my tongue up against his sphincter. I had to push hard to enter the tight ring, but his position helped a lot, and I stated to explore with my tongue. It was not long enough to penetrate deeply, so I resumed playing with the sides of his crack with my lips. I began to run my lips over his arse-cheeks, one at a time and I heard him grunt with pleasure. He was chewing my man-stick with great enjoyment, and I started to push it further into his mouth. I grabbed his hips, one in each hand and as he tried to swallow my cock, I suddenly said to him, "I'm gonna come," and shot a substantial load of jism into his mouth. I couldn't see what was happening at the lower end of my body, but Tom turned round and I could see man-juice dripping out of his mouth as he tried to swallow it all. He pulled his right leg over my body and turned himself round. I could see him savouring my ejaculate, as he slowly swallowed it. He then bent and began to kiss my lips so that when I opened my mouth I could taste my own spunk.

"Rub yourself on my belly," I said and put both my arms round his waist and pulled him down on top of me. He continued to kiss me as he wriggled and rubbed his stone-hard cock against my belly. After perhaps a couple of minutes of unique warmth and closeness, he came and shot his load over both our bellies and chests. He lay for a minute or so in the sticky mess, before rolling over and lying beside me. "Thank you, stud-boy Tom, you're a wonderful lover," I said and rubbed my face in the sticky fluid on his chest and began to lick it. "You taste good!" I said, "I've never had a sexual experience as good as that before! I love you so much."

"And I love you!" he replied, "I've never been rimmed before, and it was wonderful! I never thought that anyone as sweet as you could ever want me. No-one has ever gone to so much trouble to be nice to me since I came to Camford, very few even have ever talked to me as an intelligent human being. Not even my colleagues in the lab spend much time talking to me. And I am the only first-year chemist in the college, so except for you, I've no-one to sit next to at dinner. You're the only person, man or woman, in this town who has shown signs of wanting my company. I was sure that there must be something wrong with me, maybe I smell bad or something."

"You smell delicious!" I said, "you smell like the nicest man who ever walked this earth! Fresh male sweat really turns me on. But if you have any doubt about your personal scent, we can do two things. First I can give you a good soapy scrubbing in the shower, and secondly you can use this deodorant and shower gel that I got from my parents. It's an age-old gay perfume devised in the seventies by a well-known Belgian parfumier called 'Storing pour Homme.' The fashion for it has long since disappeared, but it is still expensive. A lot has happened in the gay world since the nineteen-eighties. If you use it, it may or may not give you self-confidence, and it will also tell the more knowing men in this college that you're gay. That might lead to undesirable consequences of course. When my father was a student at Boni's, and like you he was a Yorkshireman who read chemistry, he would only wear the perfume at the weekends, because he said it shrieked out 'poof' to anyone who recognized it. But now that he is a sort of celebrity, he doesn't give a toss that everyone knows he is gay, and it didn't prevent him getting an honour from the Crown. My cofather, who introduced him to it, uses it as well.

"I've never tried to use 'Storing pour Homme' myself, but if you like it and want me to, I will. In fact, I'll do anything that you want me to, because I love you. We'll start by getting you membership of Camford's Men's Fitness Club. It's much more convenient to be able to swim in the centre of the town, rather than having to get on a bike or bus to get to the Olympic Pool. There is a long waiting list, but I can pull some strings to get you to the top of it, and I will pay the subs for you each year. Please DON'T think that I'm buying you. You can say no to anything I say, and I won't love you any the less!"

"Luke, my darling boy, I don't give a fuck what else you give me or do for me, as long as you give me your own sweet self. I need your love, it's essential to my self-respect in this town. Now you're mine I can go on. I had almost decided, in spite of having flogged my guts out to get here, to give it all up!"

"Tom, that would have been mad! Camford is a wonderful place and the next four years are going to be the best years of your life. You will never be bored, never lonely and never have time on your hands! We must find some activity other than work and sex for you though. For a start, you go out with your fellow chemists on a Friday. What do you do together?"

"Mostly we drink and talk shop."

"Do any of your colleagues bring their girlfriends along?"

"Yes, several of them. It is a mainly social get-together."

"Well, why not take me? You can introduce me either as your roommate, or as your boyfriend if you want to come out. Think carefully about that: you might get some unpleasant reactions. But speaking personally, I would love for us to be regarded as an item in college, even if not in your department. And please wear 'Storing pour Homme,' it's a love-token from me."

Chapter 26

E-mail from l.c.singleton-scarborough@buckingham.camford.ac.uk to j.singleboro@bonif.camford.ac.uk

Cc. to d.m.singleboro@opsingnet.net

My dear fathers

It has happened! I have MET SOMEONE. I did not have far to go, he is my college roommate, the one whom I told you was either straight or inhibited. It turns out that he was inhibited. I am in love, and it makes me feel wonderful.

As for him (his name is Tom, by the way), he has been transformed. Falling in love has restored his self-confidence, which because of his inadequate social skills had just about ebbed away and he was considering quitting his course, he was so lonely and unhappy. I will bring him to meet you one weekend when you are both at home, and if you really want to appraise him, we can all go in the pool together naked!

I'm not yet ready for a lifetime commitment, but certainly I want our relationship to continue for the forseeable future, and that future may turn out to be lifelong. Once I had broken through the steel-hard barrier that Tom had erected between himself and Camford, he turns out to be an amazing person, well-read and with a great sense of humour, and every evening I look forward to seeing him.

The boy does not have a lot of money, but does not want me to buy him presents or favours. He just wants me! Dad, he's a proud independent Yorkshireman like you! One thing though I am determined to do for him is to get him into the Men's Fitness Club, and to pay his annual subs. Pop, please can you try and arrange that? We've been going to the Rialto together on Saturdays for weeks now (carbon copies of you two at our age?), and now we'll be able to HOLD HANDS! I know that you will both utter warnings about neglecting my work, and I promise not to do that. I know that Dad always said that his undergraduate work improved with regular sex, and I am certain that that will apply to Tom. As far as I am concerned, anything that I can do for him will make me happy. Maybe there's something of Aelred in that.

Your literally loving son,

Luke. XXXX

Chapter 27

Integrating a loner into college life

Our relationship deepened over the remainder of the term. Tom and I did not sleep together. The college single beds were OK for sex, but inadequate for two normal-sized men to sleep in without one or other falling out in the night! I was better at getting up in a morning than Tom was, but his classes tended to start earlier than mine, so he had to get up. When my alarm clock went off in a morning, I would go into his bedroom and gently kiss him awake. It was the most tender and humbling experience of the day for me, and I could see that Tom loved it too.

His new self-confidence made him almost assertive. That barrier of reserve had vanished, and almost daily he would initiate some form of lovemaking. What was so delightful to me about his lovemaking was that he took total control. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing and it was wonderful to be able to lie back and let him have his way with me. I had never realized that lovemaking could be as sweet as Tom made it. In his arms, I felt safe and happy. His very touch brought a thrill of affection, as well as an intense desire to feel his weight on top of me!

By now we were both conscious of the imminence of university exams at the end of the Pentecost term, and the necessity to do some revision over the Easter vac, as teaching would continue for most of the Pentecost term. I asked Tom how he had done in his Progress Test, and he said that his tutor had told him that he had done OK, but that he (the tutor) said that it was difficult to give him more information because there were no other students in his year to compare him with. Not a very helpful comment, I felt. It sounded to me as though Buckingham had hired a junior and inexperienced tutor/lecturer in chemistry because of the small number of 'hard science' students in some colleges in that decade of the century. So I asked Tom how he felt he was coping, and he said that he had not had to struggle with anything, and he thought that he was OK. I made a mental note to get Pop to talk to him. Pop would soon suss out Tom's competences and be able to offer useful help if Tom needed it.

I said to Tom that he was welcome to spend some of the Easter vac with me at home, either in Camford, or better, if we did not need to use library facilities, at Rockwell's Barn. It was impossible to remain in college, all undergraduates were chucked out for the conference trade, which the colleges need to supplement their income. I said that he could stay with us for free, providing that he shared my (queen-sized) bed. He giggled and said that it was almost like being paid for sex. I said that if he really wanted to get some intensive work done, lovemaking would have to be limited to once per day! But he gratefully accepted my offer.

We had not yet 'gone all the way,' not out of disinclination, but because we both wanted to understand each other's bodies better first. We started to discuss our likes and dislikes, and I found to my amazement that Tom liked classical music, especially singing. He showed me his iPod, and he had a huge amount of vocal music, particularly opera. One evening he played me one of his favourite tracks: Mozart's tenor aria, 'Il mio tesoro.' I was astonished. "Do you know who is singing that?" I asked him.

"One of my favourite tenors. He's got the same name as you, David Scarborough."

"He's got the same name as me because he's my father!" I said. "You knew that I sing in the chapel choir. Didn't you put two and two together?"

"But he's not your biological father, so how can you inherit any musical skill?"

"My mother is his sister, so I do have 25% of his parental Scarborough genes. If he'd been my biological father, I would have had twice as many. But it's great that you like music and singing. We must go to some concerts together. I'll see to the tickets."

"No! I'd love to go with you, but I can pay for my own tickets. I'm not poverty-stricken, just careful with the pennies!"

"Just a minute. Play that track again and try singing along with it. I'll write the words down for you:

'Il mio tesoro intanto, andate, andate, a consolar/

E del bel ciglio il pianto, cercate di asciugar...'

"It's pronounced 'Cheelio, chercatay, ashyougar.'"

"Why? I can't sing!"

"How do you know? If you can sing in tune, you are good enough for the choir, particularly if you sing tenor."

"But I'm not religious, I've never been in a church in my life."

"Evensong is a very simple service of singing, readings, a sermon and prayers. You will enjoy it if you are participating in the singing. The C of E, especially in Camford, is full of people who just go to church for the music or the liturgy. They are not necessarily good Christians!" After much persuasion, he did as I asked. He had a very pleasant tenor voice, and could sing in tune. I rang the Organ Scholar on my cellphone and asked him if he had time to do a quick voice test on a potential choir member. "Tomorrow at 5-30, if he can manage that time," he said. So it was fixed.

By 6 pm the next day, Tom was the latest recruit to the Buckingham College Chapel Choir. I was delighted. It was another opportunity for him to get out of the circle of isolation with which he had surrounded himself.