Uni Life Ch. 01

Hello. Welcome to the story, I do address you dear reader, thanks for clicking and all that. Just wanted to say that if you want a quick masturbation session then don't read this, it's hopefully going to be a bit more detailed and in multiple sections. There will be slightly more than a two dimensional character, all I can promise is that sex will eventually cum. Also this story may or may not contain stalkery ideas and values. Don't operate that way in real life. Even if the story doesn't contain rape I just thought I ought to tell you that if you were considering rape it's a bad idea and not to do it. By the way, this is an entire work of fiction, but I work from pictures and you can have some of those if you'd like.

26th of August. Results Day across England and Wales. Everywhere teenagers awoke at the early and unusual time of 9.00 am to be dragged to school and screamed at by disappointed and frustrated parents.

One such individual was that of Tim. He'd had a relaxing summer filled with parties and sleeping till noon. No-one had bothered him all summer and his parents had left him to fester in his room. He had done little but rot away on the internet. However all the time he had put off worrying about exam results was coming to swiftly bite him in the backside. Today of all days was results day, the feared doom that awaited him was not something Tim was eagerly looking forward to. He got up, looked in the mirror at his bed-head and sighed. Often Tim's dark brown hair was manageable, but today like everything in the universe, it had decided that it was not going to be pleasant for Tim. grimacing into the sunlight Tim clutched and fumbled around for his spectacles in order to better see the wreckage he had devolved into.

'Not bad,' he thought, eyeing himself up in the mirror and hoping that people would still find him attractive by ignoring his flaws. 'Good face,' he murmured. He was right, on the whole "Clean and Clear" had delivered him blemish free skin. The spots he had been riddled with at the beginning of the year were now slowly fading. His lips were thick and pouty, had no obvious marks although he bit them near constantly. Not in a sexy way, but in a much more awkward manner. As for his eyes they were still good, dark, brown and sexy. Covered by long voluptuous eyelashes that gave him a slightly feminine look. His nose was the disappointment of the face. Tim hated it, despised its enormity as it protruded from his face. Almost as if to point out his ugliness to passing onlookers. His teeth were good though, clean and all still original. As for his hair, he'd shower and bring that back to into heel.

'Body needs work' he thought absentmindedly as he looked at his scrawny body. HIs arms were near bone with great gawking shoulders that had yet to be filled in. Despite his near scarecrow figure however he still seemed to have a small middrift which he despised as he could not even say he was thin. Simply skinny. His legs were not awful, not thick but hardly something to write home about. His feet were normal, hardly huge but in proportion to his body.

Then his thoughts turned toward his cock, 'definitely nothing I can do about that,' he pondered whilst staring at his penis, vaguely willing it to grow a few inches before his very eyes in the hope it might look average. His dowdy hair covered the top of his penis and went round covering his soft balls, small and delicate like eggs. HIs penis was four inches long and two inches in girth. He was circumcised although he wasn't Jewish, his parents clearly just disliked him.

"TIM!" his mother called, "We have to go! I really want to see your results before we head off to work!"

Tim was immediately snapped back from morosely looking at his body to the despair and fear of his results. He'd taken the exams early May and couldn't remember what he'd put in them, much less if they were right. He threw on the closest things in his wardrobe and stumbled downstairs.

"Ah, sleeping beauty's down at last!" his mother cried, beaming at her son. "Would you like some breakfast? Growing boy like you needs to eat!"

Tim glanced at the cereal and burnt toast that looked nibbled at. He decided to skip breakfast if only because he never normally ate in the mornings anyway.

"No thanks mum, I'm not hungry today thanks."

"Oh go on, just a slice of toast, you'll need it, especially if you want to get some girls!" his mother finished the sentiment with a wink. Sealing not only Tim's hunger but also his embarrassment.

"No, really it's fine."

"Alright, but we're not getting McDonalds. I suppose you're a bit nervous anyway."

"Yeah, I suppose.

Tim almost ran to the car slipping on his shoes in the process and waited with baited breath for his mum to begin the drive that would decide his life.

*

At school Tim sat, petrified in the car, refusing to get out of his seat in hopes that they could go home and not have to know his results.

"Go on then!" His mother smiled encouragingly at him, oblivious to her son's panic and fear.

Tim, facing the inevitable decided that it would be like ripping off a plaster, the quicker it was done, the quicker he'd be free. Hopefully it was the right time to come off. Screwing his courage up, Tim opened the car door and faced the cold summer wind with a new found sense of despair. He dragged himself over to the crowd clearly waiting for the results, the huddled mass clinging together in hopes that numbers would save them from the cruelty of the examining body. That the universities might accept their low grades if only there were enough of them. Amongst this seething mass of people Tim spied his friends and walked slightly quicker in their direction.

They smiled on his approach. Misery loves company. After catching up on how they'd been after George's house party they discussed the reason why they were here.

"Well, I don't mind not getting my first choice" said Davies, who always got straight A's, although no-one ever saw him work, be it in class, home, or the school free periods.

"I do" said Derek, a slightly stupid boy, but a hard worker, he could only apply to low grade schools, but his attitude to work was the best anyone in our school had. However, as teachers were quick to point out, that doesn't mean you'll get good grades.

Tim meanwhile stood silently, hoping he had grades good enough to get to university, even if it was his insurance choice.

"UH HMM!" Mr, Smith, our head teacher cleared his throat. Thereby announcing that we could collect our results.

The rabble clamoured to receive the news from the poor assistant teacher lumbered with handing out results. Now, I saw the ingeniousness of those who had allowed their parents out of the car to join them in collection of results, they acted as bodyguards to their child. The three then easily cleared a pathway to the table with results. Here is where Tim came into his own. Although his body type often meant he was picked last in a game of rugby or football, here his lithe body was his greatest advantage. His bony elbows vehemently attacking anyone foolish enough to get close enough to him. Soon enough he had reached the table and breathlessly said "Tim, Tim Wren." to the assistant teacher hopelessly shuffling through named envelopes.

"Ah yes, Wren." She said, glancing at his results sheet before handing it to him.

Having successfully acquired the envelope he sidled out of the crowd to find a quiet corner away from the din of the crowd but not close enough to the already crying failures that had their results. Tim tore open the envelope, not caring about the mess he was making, simply needing to see the paper that would decide his future career.

Having torn the paper out of it's clear protective wrapping and realising that was a stupid thing to have done, cursing himself for making himself wait when even the assistant teacher had seen his results before he had. He slowly looked at the different modules and their respective grades.

Philosophy - C.

English - C.

History - C.

Tim looked up at the world, no-one seemed to have noticed his failing grades. His teachers didn't frown when he looked their way and his friends waved their papers in ecstatic joy confirming their work had been worthwhile. He thought back over the past year. What had gone wrong? Had he not worked? Was he stupid? Maybe his revision technique was off?

Tim looked around, as the din had begun to die down the cries of joy and anguish had begun to subside he noticed people had begun to compare exam paper results. He knew what was coming next, people would revel in they self satisfied glory by basking in the pain of others. Although a willing participant when he had done well, he couldn't face the cruelty that was coming to him and he simply ran back to the car, slamming the door.

"Hi son, how'd it go?" his mom asked innocently, although to Tim it sounded like a weighted question. Unable to speak he simply handed her his paper and glared at the floor. Hoping it would swallow him up into the immense void of time and space.

"Oh. At least you passed." His mom tried desperately to find the positive in the situation but couldn't, all of her comments sounded like attacks even though they were intended to be comforts. Yet, Tim pondered, he hadn't been rejected by his universities on UCAS webpage... Even now whilst a crushing feeling began to envelop his stomach he clutched at a glimmer of hope. UCAS had yet to update. He began to claw his iPhone from his skinny jeans desperately hoping he could still go to university even with his awful grades.

Birmingham - Rejected

Hull - Accepted

He stared at the screen in disbelief, alright, it wasn't what he was hoping for, but he could definitely make it work. Hull wasn't that bad and their reputation as a university was average. At least it wasn't a polytechnic. He just had to get a good degree and he'd be fine. No-one would care.

*

Tim arrived in Hull on a bleak sunny day. He couldn't have been less happy with his surroundings and more determined to make it work. He looked at his accommodation and realised that he would be living here for the next year. He simply decided to get on with it. He would make a success of himself. He'd be a confident lawyer, making good money with a sexy and clever husband. He'd work hard for the next year and not get into any trouble or have any relationship.

Tim actually followed this plan for about a month or so. He got good grades, knew the ins and outs of every piece of legislation he needed to and more. Law was a difficult degree but unlike his A-levels Tim managed to excel. The only thing he missed was human contact. Sure he had the people in his block and he called his parents every so often but still something was missing. Something he couldn't put his finger on. He thought maybe he'd been working too hard and needed to relax, go to a movie or clubbing. He hadn't had vodka in nearly a month and desperately needed some soon. Plus he was a little uncertain about living the life of a celibate monk.

"Are we going anywhere tonight?" Tim asked innocently enough to his flatmates at dinner.

"Umm... yeah we were thinking of going to Brassick. Or even Sugar. Maybe Fuel if you're coming?" said Janice, the clubee. She claimed to be doing drama but there was little evidence that she got up before 2.00. Let alone studied for a degree.

"Sounds good." answered Tim with a smile.

"We'll set you up with hottie at the gay bar if you do come." winked Janice.

"Yeah I'm up for that." chucked Tim.

"Great!" laughed Janice.

*

'What happened? Was he at home? Good. In bed. Even better. Was he clothed? Yep, but with some orange stuff all down his... Oh no. What was that bell ringing in his...? Nope, that's just a headache.'

Tim knew he shouldn't have drunk as much as he had but vows to never drink again were not helpful in his current state. He showered and got changed. Then once he began to feel slightly more humane he decided to compensate for last nights lack of work he needed to work. Besides, he was only going to the library. He didn't have to dress up, he could go with a hangover and totally get some work done.

Tim greatly regretted this decision. The lights were far too bright. It wasn't the only decision he regretted as Facebook delivered him a steady stream of decisions he ought to regret further. At least it was quiet.

Not for long though, as almost immediately after having thought this and trying to identify exactly what the ratio decedendi was in this case three large males burst through the elevator singing at the top of their voices. Clearly they were being told to sing these 'songs' by someone else. Who sang "I have a small penis and I like boys" at the top of their voice? Tim didn't know much about heteros but he didn't think this was normal. Then Tim looked past their flat and tuneless singing to the boys themselves. 'Not bad' he thought. Clearly they were on the rugby squad. Or maybe that was they were applying for. Now it made sense. It was sports week. This must clearly be some sort of weird ritual of inanition. All three had big burly bodies. Not fat, but tall, broad and muscular. They were nearly naked in fact, something Tim found very gratifying. Two were flat faced, with seemingly broken noses and broad square faces. Thick corded necks branched into wide shoulders housing large thick pectorals. All had erect nipples, but two of the boys nipples were small, the middle one had large nipples. All had six packs. All had thick biceps which grew into thick forearms and large beefy fingers. Finally their legs were thicker than Tim's entire body. Unfortunately all were wearing pants with bulges squeezing the boxers to their limits. Whether they were allowed socks or not Tim didn't know. He wondered what they were doing here. Athletes with bodies and faces like that weren't found at university, they were on billboards advertising some sort of cologne. Or pants. Tim liked those adverts.

Having paraded their immense meat and singing around the second floor of the library the boys finally let Tim get back to work, not that they had interrupted anyone, Tim was simply involuntarily constrained to watch their musclebound bodies bound across the tables brushing past people as they went. He saw one boy in particular as stunning. Blond hair and blue eyes he was like some sort of Adonis. Tim knew he wouldn't give him a second glance but nonetheless he could hope. And dream. Tim daydreamed all day about the beautiful young boy bounding across the library nearly naked. Flashing his stunning smile amongst other things at the lucky inhabitants of Floor 2 of the library.

*

Two weeks after Sports Week is Societies Week, Tim went to the fair if only to satisfy the other people in the block. He found a few things quite nice, joined the law society and picked up a card at the LGBT stand. He wouldn't go, but it was nice to support the activists. Then he saw the blond guy who'd been dancing in the library. Tim's no stalker, but the boy's bubble butt was essentially beckoning Tim to follow. Tim could no more deny him than a moth to a flame. He stalked the beautiful rugby player to the entrance of the fair where he stopped to re-evaluate what he'd picked up. Tim watched with a little glee hoping to join whatever he joined. Then to his surprise, he saw an LGBT card. Hope jumped into Tim's throat and refused to be swallowed. He tried to rationalise. Of course he had one. Nearly everyone did, they were handing them out. Didn't mean he was gay. But Tim's hope and loneliness refused to be quelled by mere reasoning. Still, gave him an excuse to stalk him.

Later having lost him in a crowd going to the fair Tim evaluated what had happened. He'd stalked a straight guy. Stalked him as far as he could. Tim didn't even feel bad. He enjoyed it. That was what was so wrong. He knew he should feel bad but didn't. He'd invaded the privacy of another human being and he'd do it again. What was he becoming? He'd never done this before. And it was pointless, he wasn't even gay.

The rational cynic in Tim eventually won and he headed back to his dorm. Of course, this didn't mean he'd stop stalking him. Just that he was finished for today. He saw him again in the canteen wearing flip flops and some tracksuit bottoms. As he saw them wearing them he thought he should buy some flip flops. Afterwards he nearly screamed out of hate for being so needy and stupid. FLIP FLOPS? IN HULL? BLONDIE WAS MAD TO WEAR THEM. YET HE HAD CONVINCED TIM TO WEAR THEM WITHOUT SAYING A WORD. Tim only wondered at what strange power he seemed to hold over him. And what would happen if he ever found out.

After another week or so, he had established his dorm. He now knew where he lived. More than that he knew his name and could quite easily stalk him on Facebook. Richard. Richard Nightingale. A fairly posh name, but he did come from Oxford so he supposed it fit. Tim thought that he done quite well. He had escalated it to the final point. Obviously he could go no further without embarrassing himself or committing a real crime.

*

About a month after his last sighting of Richard, Tim had almost given up on his stalkee. He had seen other reasonable bodies on campus and was getting over the boy he'd never even met. Tim strolled down library carrying three books and hoping to take them out before he left.

He'd picked up a fair amount of speed and was vehemently heading to the checkout desk when some idiot ran from the corner to get the last free computer and knocked him to ground. Books flew everywhere and papers were all over the floor. Tim heard apologies and then a large and firm hand was pulling him off the floor whilst the owner inquired about his health.

"Mmm... Yep" Mumbled Tim in answer to a question. Not his most eloquent response but 'who the hell was he trying to impress?' he asked himself as he looked at his simultaneous attacker and rescuer.

Richard stared back at him. 'Shit' Tim thought. 'Why'd he have to be kind? Why didn't he just leave me? Why did he make things so difficult?'

"Sorry about this" Richard said, his face displaying an emotion of genuine concern and anguish at having impinged on Tim's health. It just made him cuter.

"It's fine, I... err... am fine. Don't worry. No harm done. Not like I'm going to sue." Tim said as Tim picked up the law books. Tim hated himself. Tim should be angry at him. He had knocked him over. Tim wasn't fine, his head hurt and he'd fallen awkwardly with heavy thick books falling all over him. Tim should sue damn it.

"Haha. Yeah, no Injury lawyers 4 you? You sure you're ok? It was an honest accident."

'No, I'm not ok. You barraged all over me you moron. Just because it was an accident doesn't make it any better you dumb ass. Total twit.' Tim thought.

"Haha yes I'm fine, I've had much worse." Tim cringed at himself. Why couldn't he scream at this brainless meat head? It wasn't like there wasn't an argument to be had.

"Well, at least let me carry your books, or get you a hot drink. Just to make sure you're ok. You had a bit of a nasty fall. I need to make sure you don't have a concussion or something."

'Or something. What do you do? Medicine? Just fuck off.'

"Ok, if you insist."

"Great" Richard flashed pearly whites at him and Tim nearly fainted. Although he wasn't sure if he really had concussion or was just far too desperate.

They sat down in Starbucks and Richard got him a Hot Chocolate, refusing to let him pay. Tim was mildly perturbed by this wondering if Richard saw him as a woman like figure. Then of course Tim realised they weren't on a date, Richard was simply hoping he hadn't done any lasting damage.