Meeting Sam

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

I had been accepted into graduate school during my final semester of college. I wasn't sure what I could do with my dual degrees in history and politics, but I knew there wasn't much. So, I did what any other reasonable young man would do and I decided to further my education and earn a masters degree in history (as if there was something I could do with that). Regardless, I've always imagined becoming: Dr. J. P. Harrington.

I said goodbye to my girlfriend, Erin, and drove to my new apartment in the mountains of northern Pennsylvania. One of the reasons I selected this school was because I could get home to her as quickly (only a three hour drive) as she could get to me. The second reason was that it is was the only acceptance letter I received and I was hellbent on moving on.

My first class, 20th Century Britain, was taught by a man I would come to know quite well over the next several months. He was just shy of six foot tall and had an average build. He was in his early 40s when I took his class and he seemed young and vibrant. I was immediately fascinated by his studies at Harvard and Oxford. He was very much what I aspired to become, but I was lacking his independent wealth and stellar academic tools.

I have always been interested in Europe and the World Wars, but even if I hadn't Dr. Phillips had a way with words that kept me enthralled in my studies. He was captivating, charismatic, and confident; the three hour lectures were over in the blink of an eye.

I had stayed behind the first two evenings to discuss politics and history with Dr. Phillips (who was simply called 'Sam' by his students). After an hour passed or so passed, it would be just he and I. He did most, but not all, of the talking. After the first three weeks of the semester we began to form a friendship. There was an obvious metamorphosis from professional to personal discussion. We talked about our families, experiences, and travels. It was at this point that I realized I had developed, what some might call, a 'man-crush' on my professor.

I had never been attracted to men. Although I had no problem with homosexuality, I knew (or at least thought that I knew) that it wasn't for me. However, he made me feel good, almost giddy, as we talked for hours. I wanted to believe these feeling were innocent. At the same time, I was unsure. I had never been so confused. I had never questioned my feelings this way. Everything became blurry as I was bombarded by signals and signs. Did he know how I was feeling? What would he do if he figured it out? What were the possible ramifications?

Then, he asked me to his house. Innocent as it may have been, questions raced through my mind.

It was a Saturday night and I, along with a few of my classmates, ventured to his home for some drinks and fellowship. I arrived about thirty minutes late - I didn't want to seem too eager - and I found them on his deck drinking beer from the bottle and snacking on food from a variety of trays. There was a lot of laughter that night as we listened to music and shared stories. There were six of us present including he and I. As the night ticked forward others began to leave. It was obvious that he didn't mind the company as he briefly contested the departure of each and every one of his guests.

As usual, it was just he and I in the end. I had a bit too much to drink, but that didn't stop me from prying the top from another bottle. He had too much as well but he had slowed down considerably as his guests began to leave.

I gestured toward my car at around 1 AM, but he reminded me of the consequences of drinking and driving and offered to keep me company while I sobered up. I felt obligated to stay awhile longer. I couldn't afford to be so reckless in leaving.

I began to fall asleep while sitting upright on a stool which prompted his offering of the guest bedroom. Although I knew it was going to make things awkward if I stayed, I decided it was for the best and I accepted his offer.

I fell asleep quickly but awoke just three hours later. I decided it would be best for me to leave now given that I had slept off my buzz. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I put my socks on my feet and tied my shoes. There was little else I needed to do since I had slept in my clothing. I tucked the sheet and comforter back into place before heading for the door. It was as I walked through the hall that I saw him sitting on his couch.

"Hey, Sam," I said as I walked toward him. He appeared startled. I thanked him for the fun night (and the place to crash) before I told him that I would be heading out. After all, I had no class on Monday and I was expecting Erin to arrive in a few short hours for two days of relaxation. Instantly, it became obvious, that I had interrupted him.

I could see that he was hard under the blanket covering his lap and I noticed that he had closed the laptop rather quickly after I entered the room. Had I just caught my professor in the act of masturbation? The thought brought butterflies to my stomach; I had no idea what to do. This was becoming a strange sequence of events.

He apologized quickly after he realized that I had put two and two together. "We all do it," I said as I put up my hands to signal that it was okay. He smiled. Then, the strange became even stranger. "Sit with me," he said. I couldn't help but to look down at the slightly lifted blanket and wonder what it might look like. He lifted his laptop screen and confirmed that it was porn he was watching. His reached under the blanket with one hand and gestured to me with the other.

I sat down beside him and watched the screen in disbelief as he moved his hand back and forth. He wasn't looking at me - but I couldn't help but look at him. "Come on," he said; and I did. I reached into my pants and began to massage my cock which became stiff quickly. He removed the blanket from his lap and exposed himself. I unbuttoned my shorts and exposed myself as well; he smiled. The surreal became very real in a matter of seconds.

For a few minutes I stroked my cock slowly while watching the movie - then I felt his hand grab my arm. He pulled my hand away and used his to stroke my dick.

I was bewildered. Never, in a million years, would I have ever imagined allowing another man to touch my cock let alone give me a hand job. I thought of Erin's impending arrival and my commitment to her. I think he sensed it because he informed me that this was not cheating; then, I felt his mouth.

I sat there motionlessly as this man, who I admired, sucked my cock on his couch. My heart raced with excitement as he seamlessly maneuvered my cock in and out of his mouth. Soft moans slowly made their way from my lips as his tongue flickered on the tip of my hard staff. He picked up the pace and I laid my head back - I was completely relaxed. I fought the instinct to either place my hand on his head or thrust with my hips. I could feel the throbbing of my cock as my cum readied itself for explosion and then it did. As I came in his mouth, he moaned excited moans, and swallowed every last drop. With his head still in my lap, he continued to suck on the head of my cock and expelled each and every drop of my thick white cum.

Almost no words were spoken as I fixed my pants and prepared to leave. He returned to his spot on the couch sans the blanket and he wished me well. "I will see you on Tuesday night, Jay," he said as I walked through the door.

Chapter 2: The Love of My Life

Erin arrived at about 11:00 AM before which I had just enough time to grab something to eat, enjoy a warm shower, and take a short nap. I was happy to see her as it had been two weeks since her first and only visit. She looked beautiful standing before me wearing a navy skirt and a tight fitting white shirt which accented her larger than average chest. Her brown hair was parted in the middle with a strand framing each side of her gorgeous face - the rest of her hair was tied at the back.

I was able to put what had happened with Sam out of my mind and we had two lazy days. We ordered Chinese, streamed a few movies, took a some long naps, and had a lot of sex. We had always had a healthy relationship. We hardly ever fought, we enjoyed the same activities, and we shared a lot of memories. She was everything I wanted in a mate. It was perfect.

As we sat together, holding hands on my beat up couch, I couldn't stop thinking about how much love I had for Erin. I didn't want anything to come between as we had our perfect life planned out. It wasn't right for me to leave her, to go on an academic wild goose chase, and expect her to sit at home and wait. We kissed, and touched each other, all night.

As the two day retreat from academia came to an end, we said our 'goodbyes' and she shed a few tears. I was a tough guy so I held mine in. We talked about seeing each other again soon and we reminded each other that we would have nightly Skype sessions to keep us close even when we were so far away. As she drove off I watched, wanting her to stay forever, but I knew that it just couldn't be.

Once she was gone, and as out of my mind as possible, I became increasingly worried about what would happen the next night when I joined Sam for another lecture on WWI. As much as I enjoyed the subject, I didn't look forward to the awkward moment when we would lock eyes in front of the group. I was ashamed of the glances that I expected we would share and the feelings of embarrassment which would be felt by both of us.

Chapter 3: Unsure

I arrived to class right on time. I wasn't the first person to enter the classroom but I wasn't the last. Within the next three minutes the entire class had arrived and we awaited our professor. As was usually the case, he arrived about five minutes late. Nobody complained about the late start because we knew he was more than willing to make it up by staying late; furthermore, it was a three hour class!

Class went on as it always had in the past. He lectured while we listened; then, we asked questions and he answered them. We discussed the book he assigned the previous week and he gave us our assignment. There were no awkward stares. He thanked us and invited the class to meet him at the campus cafe to continue our discussion. He was always there until it closed at 11:00 PM after class.

I couldn't work up the courage to go as I usually did. Instead, I drove through the window at McDonald's to get my 'night coffee' and headed back to my apartment. I watched some TV before falling asleep with a book on my face.

When I awoke I noticed that there was an email from Sam waiting in my inbox. I was both relieved and disappointed when I realized that it was a group message to our class and not individually addressed to me. He altered the assignment for next week and provided a list (as promised) of appropriate research topics. My topic would be a big part of my life for the next 10 weeks - so would he.

I walked to work, at my job of three weeks, and mentally prepared for the brainless customers of Thompson's Food and Fuel. I sold thousands of dollars worth of lottery tickets and cigarettes during my eight hour shift to mountain men with no teeth and bad breath. I knew that this job was not for me, but it was the best that I could do during this first semester. I interviewed for jobs at the surrounding ski resorts which would begin to hire in early November. Until then, it was me and the stinky people of the simple mountain town.

With about fifteen minutes remaining in my shift I noticed that Sam had pulled up to pump number three. His black BMW seemed out of place among the jalopies that populated the parking lot. After pumping his gas, he walked toward the store with his wallet in his hand. He smiled as he greeted me at the counter and gave me his credit card for processing - I couldn't believe that there was no way to pay at the pump in this backwoods community! He made a bit of small talk and invited me back to his place after my class on Thursday. I stuttered as I declined knowing full well that I could use a few drinks after three hours of Research and Methodology in History with Professor Balfour.

"Very well," he said as he turned to leave the counter. That is when I stopped him and asked him what time. Instead of his house, we agreed to meet at 10:00 PM at a local pub located just off campus. The pub was known to be frequented by the locals so there was very little chance I would bump into anyone I knew. Most of the students spent Thursday nights at the larger, dance friendly, club called the Hyper Squirrel. "Until then," he said as he walked through the door.

What did I get myself into? I had just planned to meet a man, who sucked my cock, at a pub on Thursday night. As much as I wanted to meet him at the pub, I was scared. I wasn't sure if I wanted to 'normalize' things, or maintain the new status quo.

Chapter 4: Wilma's Irish Pub

It was Thursday afternoon and my class was scheduled from 6:00 to 9:00 PM. Balfour tended to end a bit early, so I expected I would have time to drive home and take a quick shower. My 4:45 Skype session with Erin put a smile on my face. It was always so nice to see her - my iPad seemed to bring out the green in her eyes. We chatted for about thirty minutes before I was ready to head off to class.

Class was boring; extremely boring. Spreadsheets and data were followed by more spreadsheets and data. Although I knew I would need this knowledge for my looming thesis, I couldn't help but to lose myself in my thoughts. I thought about going back home to be with Erin. I had been thinking about that often after her visit. I thought about finding a job despite my worthless undergraduate degree, and I thought about the tens of thousands of dollars my new worthless degree would cost me. Before I knew it, Balfour was wrapping things up and posted our newest assignment for copying: the analysis of statistics relating to the lives lost during the French Revolution.

I arrived at Wilma's Irish Pub a tad early but I wasn't surprised to see that Sam was already there. I knew it would come up at some point, but I didn't expect it so soon. He began by telling me that what happened the other morning was normal. He insisted that it was only human nature to want to feel good and that instinctively we do what it takes. It doesn't make us one thing or another - it just makes us content. He told me that if it never happened again there would be no reason to discuss it further. If it were to happen again, it would continue to be without meaning. Finally, he said, "Let's talk history, young man."

So, we talked history. First it was Churchill who was followed by both Stalin and Roosevelt. We discussed the Yalta Conference and role of women in the United States during WWII. Meanwhile we drank heady Guinness by the pint. In the blink of an eye, it was closing time. I was lucky to have walked to the pub because driving was not an option. I was more than buzzed at that point. Sam was in no shape to drive either. They say that history repeats itself.

I was about to leave when he told me he would sit in his car for awhile and sober up. He told me it was find for me to leave; he would be okay. However, I didn't like the idea of leaving him to sit in his car all night in the dark parking lot. Yet, I wouldn't even consider the option of inviting him to walk back to my apartment. So, I offered to keep him company, and I did.

We sat for awhile in the leather seats of his BMW. We talked some more about history before, for some strange reason, our faces met for a long passionate kiss. He put his hand in my lap and I didn't mind at all. I had mine in his and I noticed that he was already hard. I could feel his breath on my face during the intermission of our kissing episode, and I could hear his heart beat in the quiet. I felt the pulse of his cock and I knew I wanted to taste it. I had to taste it.

I opened his button and zipper with one hand as if I had done it a million times. I felt the firmness of his cock in my hand and traced the ridges that defined it. Moving my hand up and down, my mouth began to water slightly. I put my head in his lap and first smelled, and then tasted, his beautiful, swollen, cock. I licked it up and down and allowed each of his balls to visit the confines of my mouth one by one. I could taste the bitter sweet precursor that emerged from his dick.

I could hear him breath harder as I slowly bobbed my head His hand rested on the back of my head guiding me without force or aggression. I could feel him in my throat; diving deeper and deeper until I consumed it as fully as was possible given my novice rank. I had never done this before, never even thought about being on this end of a blowjob, but it felt right - it was wonderful.

After a few minutes of sucking and stroking him he mumbled to let me know that he was about to cum. I thought about finishing with my hand for a moment, but it was too late. His cum flowed through his shaft and in to my mouth. I tired to swallow, but I struggled. I'm sure that some of it made its way down my throat, but even more ended up on my face and shirt.

When I lifted my head, his lips met mine for yet another kiss. This was longer and even more intense than the first. We looked into each others eyes and time stood still. He rubbed my cock through my jeans and I shuddered with excitement. I wanted to feel him again, I really did. It didn't take much to make me cum this time and it didn't take much for him to swallow my load in its entirety.

He was a professional at work and a professional at play. Sam was able to make me feel things that I never knew I could feel. We were able to make each other happy with our mouths and our hands. We were able to make each other feel good with our words and our laughter. Was this the beginning of some sort of relationship? As we sat there together we didn't say a word.

The sun began to rise and he nudged me awake. I had fallen asleep in his car, but it was still early enough that we went unnoticed. He programmed his private phone number into my phone before we swapped seats and he drove me the few blocks home.

Chapter 5: Confusion

It was Friday morning and it was time to head to my session at the computer lab. I hardly felt like getting up and I contemplated simply signing in and leaving, but I knew I needed to make good use of the time. After all, I had an assignment to complete and this was the time reserved for graduate students of history. I, in my first semester, was obligated to be there.

I couldn't focus on my work. I kept thinking about him while I stared at the data I was supposed to be analyzing. I felt lost and confused. I was being bombarded with feelings for both a man and a woman whom I loved. I felt dirty, the guilt of infidelity, as I sat in the rolling chair. I couldn't suppress my feelings for him and my desire to be with him but I didn't truly know how he felt. I had to find out.

I left the lab a few minutes early and walked toward his office across campus. When I arrived, he was with another student so I sunk into a plush chair in the greater office to wait. I made small talk with Dr. Marshall, as I waited, through her partially ajar office door. Dr. Marshall was an older woman. She was probably in her early sixties and patiently awaiting retirement which was just around the corner. She had short gray hair and was as skinny as a rail. Her voice had a higher pitch than you would expect from her mouth which was almost comical.

After about twenty minutes, Sam emerged from his office with another student from my class. Sam had his hand on the shoulder of my peer and a smile on his face - I discovered that was typical of Sam in the short time I had known him. He had little regard for personal space and he was always touching someone - men and women alike. I couldn't help but notice there was a connection between the two and it made me jealous. Once the other student walked toward the door, he invited me into his office.