AUTHOR'S NOTE
This is a story about a young man exploring his sexuality and finding out he is a gay submissive. It is rather long and not all about sex so if you are looking for a quickie you might want to look elsewhere. This is a fantasy. All characters are over the age of 18. Please enjoy.
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I was a quiet boy ever since the beginning, small and overly sensitive in a hectic world. Other people were certainly not my specialty. At home more with a good book or just daydreaming in my room than clowning around with my buddies. What bothered me so much about it really wasn't that it was a problem for me, but that it seemingly was a problem for everyone else. Awkwardly trying to fit in, I would always miss a step. The witty thing on the tip of my tongue would, invariably, be silenced by an internal monologue about whether it was going to be cool enough, or if it would make me look stupid, and by the time it got out it was way past the right time for it and I would sound stupid.
Needless to say I wasn't very good around girls. Other guys could just walk up to them and talk and laugh around, but it just didn't work that way for me. I was a scrawny kid anyways, shortest one in my class and paper-thin. Pile on my general shyness and I just didn't even bother.
My sexual feelings usually just built up during the day and when I got home I would maybe look at a porno mag and play with myself or look up girls in the yearbook. I would pick a girl at random and pretend I was doing playing with their breasts or eating them out. It was always something like that I would be doing something to pleasure them, not like getting on top and riding them or anything. Usually what got me the most excited was when I would think about them taking my cock in their mouth and I would imagine their pretty faces looking up at me and I would cum all over and be ok for a while.
This was the pattern for most of my years in school and I really thought that I was fine with it, but then I went off to college.
Being from a small town the University overwhelmed the senses. There were hordes of people everywhere, making so much noise. The dorms themselves were just floor after floor of students piled up like a huge stack of donuts. The elevators were packed, the lines at the cafeteria were long, the classrooms held over a hundred kids. It was almost hard to imagine taking a test and not cheating. How in the hell could the professor see anyone anyways?
I fell into a routine like a good little boy going to my classes and just generally trying to avoid everyone, but in such a mass of humanity I just simply was not allowed to be a recluse.
My first roommate was the son of a criminal. Literally that was the first thing out of his mouth when I saw him. He wasn't threatening me or anything I guess it was just on his mind. I guess there was this racket where his father would get loads of copper misplaced or something and then sell them off. You could tell that Greg, that was my roomies name, was pretty proud of his dad and was likely to follow in his footsteps. I had asked him one time later that if he was going to be a criminal anyways, why bother with college and he just kind of shrugged. I can't tell you much more about him because he was never really around anyways. There would be no Greg for a few days at a time and then one night he would just pop in.
So I pretty much had the place to myself, which suited me fine. The problem was my neighbors simply wouldn't leave me alone. They were always trying to get me out to parties that were going on around town and I rebuffed them over and over. One night near the end of the first semester, I caved and went with them. I simply have no backbone.
The guys next door were pledging a fraternity. I had seen the flyers for rush the first week or so that I was on campus, but true to my nature I was too uncomfortable about going up to see what it was all about. My only real knowledge of fraternities was from watching Animal House and the truth really wasn't a whole lot different.
Before that night I had drank a little here or there, but nothing like I learned to at this place. There was a line out front just to go into it. We had to pay a couple bucks to get into and then off to the beer line. Girls were everywhere bouncing around and making all kind of noise. Just past the bar was the rather small area that was the dance floor, packed with drunken sweaty, free spirits looking for love or just a little action.
It was my first sip of beer in a long time and it tasted so good to me that I downed it quickly and headed back for a second and then a third. There was a little corner that I had camped out in that was relatively quiet. A peace had come over me with my buzz and I found myself watching people as I never had before. Where I would ordinarily be nervous and upset I was calm. This doesn't mean that I actually went out and socialized anymore right away, but I felt more comfortable than I could remember in a long time.
After the third things got kind of hazy for me and I slipped into the fuzzy world of the blackout drunk. My tolerance was so low that it had only taken me those few to lose control. There was definitely a conversation with some girl and her friend and some time out on the dance floor even, but most of it was a blur.
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I slipped out of sleep, my head aching dully. I still felt sort of drunk and couldn't tell what time it was just that it was dark. The thought that I should look around me to catch my bearings occurred to me, but actually moving wasn't on the plate just yet. I lay there with my eyes shut, resting. The cushions seemed to swallow me up and smelled somewhat of stale beer, although that could have been me as well. There was just a general dullness about me. To be so lazy was so good and I contemplated dozing back off to sleep. Visions of the night before flashed from time to time in my head, but there was no rhyme or reason to them. It was more like someone showing you flash cards in a random order.
After five, maybe fifteen, minutes passed I started to feel like I hadn't really partied enough that night since I couldn't remember it all that much anyways. I didn't know exactly where I was in the house, but I was pretty sure that I was still up there. More than likely I had passed out from taking it too fast and they put me here.
Sitting upright disoriented me and I let my eyes get used to the darkness of the room. Rectangles of light painted the floor just past the open doorway. It was a broad opening that could have housed a large set of double doors. Another person lay sleeping on the couch across from me and I recognized a table where the night before we had left our coats.
The bar was jus around the corner in the other room so I figured I would just go grab a quick one to kind of take the edge of the drumbeat in my head. I hadn't heard of hair of the dog really, but I was about to get my first taste of it.
Past the large opening there was a hall to the left that led to the entrance. On the right was the general living area that had a pool table and a few couches. The lights were dim in this room and the television flickered, but there was no sound. Possibly some people were still up, but I didn't bother with that, heading straight ahead to get some more alcohol in me. The large curved wooden bar was more like one would find in the taverns down on the Strip with huge planks of wood. I helped myself to a cup and poured myself a cold one.
The house was very still as I scanned it more carefully. It seemed so much bigger without the mass of people. The snow-covered bushes out the window sparkled under the night lamps. It was very peaceful. I walked past my little corner where I had hid the night before and onto the dance floor, which in turn opened into the living area on the other side.
I slipped into the living area trying to stay as quiet as possible. Even though I felt as if I belonged to the house already, I was aware that I didn't really live there and was worried someone would notice and kick me out. I figured I could have a few more brews and then walk home in the morning and sleep the rest of the night off.
