Author Author

The book tour culminated in a month long guest lectureship at a prestigious liberal arts college in Sonoma County, California. After three weeks of fending off gay men, I was glad for the reprieve.

It was a small progressive institution with a highly respected creative writing program. My only responsibilities were to teach a seminar of eight students. The seminar met three times a week for two hours and a one hour personal tutorship with each student weekly. The writing assignments were rigorous and required careful assessments by me. For all this, I was being generously compensated with a ridiculous pile of money. Of course, housing was provided and rental car as well. All in all, a very sweet deal.

People imagine that being an author is a lucrative profession but most writers have to augment their income with teaching positions. I was fortunate to have sold the movie rights for two of my books but that income stream could not be counted on. For the security I needed, teaching was my best option. I was hoping this guest lectureship might provide me entree into the good life behind ivy walls where I could continue to publish as well as teach.

The campus was beautiful in a manner quite apart from your average beautiful campus. It was cradled in an arbored valley between the grassy hills of wine country just east of Santa Rosa and west of Napa Valley. The breeze was redolent of flowers and meadows. The architecture was Spanish Deco, a mix of traditional and modern chic. It was enchanting. I blame that enchantment for my being a few minutes late for my first session. When I finally arrived, seven eager faces awaited me around a deeply burnished oak table that took up half the cozy room. I apologized profusely and settled in to hear each student introduce themself. We were just finishing when the eighth and final student came bursting through the door. The embarrassed student quickly took a seat and extracted a laptop from his backpack.

"Sorry. Sorry," he stammered. "Really, I am so excited about this seminar. I meant to be early, but ..."

"Well, we had just finished introductions so why don't you tell me your name, hometown, and ambitions.

"Okay, I'm Lief Svenson from Hibbings, Minnesota and I hope to write literary fiction ..." he demurely added, "like you."

"Well, Lief, if you take this seminar seriously, you will arrive on time. That's important because your fellow writers already know something you don't..." Lief squirmed slightly as his pale Norse skin edged toward red. "... that I was also late." Laughter diffused the tension and Lief relaxed. "Hibbings? Do you know any Zimmermans?"

Lief gave a wry smile at my reference to Hibbings's favorite son, Bob Dylan. "I only get that question from people of a "certain" age. Most Gen Zs ask if I know any Eriksons."

"Okay, I find your reference to my age slightly offensive. On the other hand, I'm flattered that you consider my novels Literary Fiction so it's a wash." I sensed I was going to like this delinquent budding writer. I turned to the rest of the class. "Now let's get to work."

While I readily confess to having been swept into a lusty froth by several provocative men, I had never been attracted to a man at first sight. Until now, that is. At first glance I wondered if Lief was male or female. Slight of build, he was probably no taller than five foot six, with a torso of no particular definition. There was a swell to his hips, however, and I glimpsed a fullness in the seat of his jeans. His blond hair was shaggy with sweeping bangs that almost concealed his eyes, which would be a shame. They were pale blue and highlighted by the perfect arc of his eyebrows and the translucent sheen of his lids. Lief's skin was alabaster without the vaguest hint of a beard. Prominent cheekbones had a healthy rosy hue and his full, shimmering lips were tinted a feint pink. There was an androgynous quality to him that was enigmatically beautiful. Lief Svenson might well have been Liv Ullmann.

Over the course of the seminar each student was required to write a 30-page short story. In preparation for the first session, they had been tasked with providing me with descriptions of the main characters and a preliminary plot summary. As the session came to an end, I said "Please drop-off your assignments as you leave and I will see you on Wednesday."

An awkward silence ensued, then one of them informed me that the essays had been posted to the seminar's website. Now the awkward silence was mine. I cut a glance to Lief and said "This is what you get when dealing with a man of a 'certain' age."

As they laughed and began shuffling out, Lief stayed behind. "Let me help you find the seminar site," he offered.

With that, he took control of my laptop and started navigating his way to the site. I watched over his shoulder as his graceful fingers flashed across my keyboard. So close to him, I was arrested by a beguiling earthiness wafting off his nape. My mind began to fantasize and I was consumed with the impulse to nuzzle his neck. I breathed his musk deeply and, being so close to his ear, Lief must have heard. He looked up with a sheepish wince.

"Sorry," he said.

"About what?"

"I know I give off an odor."

"Don't apologize. It's not offensive. Just the opposite, in fact. What is it?"

"It's me," he shrugged. "Pheromones, I guess. I shower twice a day but it just comes back. It causes problems but what can I do?" His eyes were lucent pools -- deep, sensuous, promising. "Here on campus people are mostly cool but out in the real world ..."

"What happens in the real world?"

"Like ... I went to Santa Rosa with a couple of friends, both female, to catch a movie. I got pulled over. The cop was one of those closeted homophobes hiding behind a badge. When he got a whiff of me he was enraged by his arousal. That's how it goes with assholes like him. Cognitive dissonance over their unresolved sexuality makes them crazy. Anyway, he pulled me out, slammed me against the hood and started to frisk me. But it was more molestation than police procedure. He even thrust his crotch against my ass while patting down my arms. That only brought his nose closer to me and he got a bigger whiff and that sent him over the edge. My friends had their phones out and were videoing the whole thing. It's all on TikTok. He was visibly aroused when he patted down my legs. Or groped me, is closer to the truth. His hard-on was actually tenting his pants. If my friends weren't videoing and yelling at him, he would have either raped me or beat my brains out right there in public. It's a problem that soap and water can't wash away."

I was stunned by his story but my own erection attested to its truth. I was inclined to ask his sexual preference but knew that would be wildly inappropriate. Instead I said, "That would make a hell of a story to write about."

"Oh god, I'm not ready to write anything that personal ..." Then he added with a wink, "... even though I do occasionally write some pretty erotic stuff."

I laughed. "I'd bet every writer has a folder filled with that sort of thing."

"Ooh? You, too? We should swap some stories!"

"I'm pretty sure that could get me fired."

"Well, maybe someday. Anyway, I've got the seminar site bookmarked, so just click here and you're in."

Lief left me in his lingering fragrance. I gathered my computer and papers, then rushed back to my apartment to masturbate before my imaginings disappeared.

Ejaculating swept the prurient cobwebs from my mind so I began to read the writing assignments. They were what you would expect from such a selective institution, ranging from very good to excellent. Lief's was unquestionably the best. His characters were vivid yet flawed. His outline demonstrated pace and tension where actions met with consequences. Still, like the others, it was just a good start.

As the weeks went by, the seminar progressed better than I had anticipated, mostly because I learned as much about being an instructor as they did about being writers. The students shared their work each session and we collectively developed a very collegial dynamic of balancing encouragement with critique. That burnished oak table became a sanctuary where we challenged and nurtured each other.

Secondary to my objective of mentoring young talent was my determination to maintain a professional distance from Lief and his entrancing ambrosia. During the seminars it was as easy as keeping an expanse of burnished oak between us. Lief sensed my discomfort and always sat as far as possible. But that distance was impractical during our one-on-one sessions. Then, we sat an arm's length apart with just the barrier of our separate computers corralling my impulses. This allowed me to maintain my concentration around Lief, however, I still scurried back to my place to choke the old chicken.

Weekends were my opportunity to explore wine country. One Saturday after visiting the tasting rooms of four separate vineyards, I got back to town pleasantly buzzed but wanting more. It was ten-thirty so I dropped into a bar just off campus. Even though the place was hopping, I managed to squeeze onto a stool at the bar. With a bottle of craft beer in hand, I made a survey of the place. Two of my students were sitting at a crowded table off to the side and I spotted Lief rocking the dance floor surrounded by a coterie of three comely coeds. As lovely as the young women were, Lief shone above the others.

He wore white cuffed shorts and a salmon colored tank top. The shorts revealed shapely legs as smooth and agile as a Rockette's, and the fabric was taut around the roundness of his ass. Lief was a great dancer, and no matter what step his feet might take, his hips undulated with bawdy insinuation. He was sexy as hell and didn't care who knew it. Fascination had me by the balls.

I was into my third beer when Lief noticed me. He waved excitedly then excused himself from his friends and wound his way across the bar. "Professor," he teased, "it's great to see you out and about on a Saturday night."

"I should probably be in bed. I've been prowling through Napa all day and am definitely over-imbibed."

"Oh boy! The hottest faculty member on campus with his inhibitions drowned beneath the fruit of Bacchus. I'm glad I get to witness it."

Framed by lips glistening with a raspberry gloss, his smile was electric and his pheromonal musk became even more intoxicating when mixed with perspiration. Ardor fired within my loins and I realized the hazard presented by the combination of alcohol and Lief's proximity. I raised a halting hand.

"You are a caution, my friend," I said with slurred speech, "and you vex my roguish nature."

"Do you always flirt in pentameter?"

Alarm bells were sounding in my mind as I laughed. "Please don't encourage my bad pentameter." I waved to the bartender for my tab. "Now I better be off before I disgrace myself further."

Lief sighed as he let his eyes linger with mine. "Okay. I'm sorry. I don't mean to tease but ... I'm aware of the effect I have on you and it makes me ... well ... feel thwarted, I guess." Then he shimmied his shoulders to the beat of the music, turned, and danced his way back to his friends, his ass swaying coquettishly.

Thwarted, he said. Unfulfilled? Frustrated? Did he desire me, too? I glanced back as I was leaving. I caught Lief's eye and he winked.

The image of his dancing visited my dreams often and I, too, felt thwarted as the seminar came to a close. With the sessions completed, my last tutorial on my final day was with Lief. The hour went quickly as we reviewed the beginnings of a novel.

"What you have here," I counseled as I closed my laptop, "is more than a good start. It's a great start. I can't wait to rush out to buy a copy of the sensational first novel by a major young writer."

Those porcelain cheeks blushed. "Thanks, Marc. You've been great. I've learned so much."

"So what's next? Graduation next month, of course, then waiting tables as you pound out the rest of your book?"

"God no. I've got my own side gig going."

"What is it?"

"Remember how I joked that we should swap erotic stories? I publish them. They're just schlock. I pound them out in a couple of hours and never look at them again before posting. Never re-write. Never edit."

"But your work is always so polished."

"The stuff I turn in to you? Oh hell yes. But I post this other stuff under a pseudonym so I don't invest the effort. It's just a hoot I do along with some personal modeling."

"And you make money off this side gig?"

"Yeah. It's a subscription website. Wanna see it?"

"Sure."

Lief opened his bookmarks and clicked an icon. "I keep the subscription price low, only a two-ninety-nine a month, but I've got over 5,000 subscribers and the numbers keep growing."

"Really? Wow. That's a healthy income."

"Gotta strike while the iron is hot." His page burst onto the screen. "My modeling is what brings eyes to the site and beauty is fleeting."

The site's banner was an image of Lief. He was naked, lying prostrate upon a bed. He faced the camera with twinkling eyes and a lascivious grin. The flawless curve of his ass was raised with his legs slightly spread in a "come take me" pose. As I sat awash in Lief's pheromonal musk, gazing upon the most tantalizing photo of a man I had ever seen, I squirmed to accommodate my burgeoning hard-on and shot a glance toward the door. I was relieved to see it was closed.

"Lief, this is totally inappropriate!"

"Why? Technically, I'm no longer your student so the rules don't apply anymore. But I didn't mean to embarrass you."

He started to close his laptop but my hand shot up to stop him. "I was startled, not embarrassed." My eyes couldn't look away from the screen.

"I'm glad. I like my body and I like to show it off." He watched as I leered at his naked form and was pleased by the effect he had on me. "But there's more to the site."

He scrolled down to where a score of story titles were scattered among more photos of Lief in various poses modeling thongs, bikini briefs, and jock straps. Frontal shots revealed his sleek torso, flaring hips, and the outline of a prominent cock. Rear shots featured flawless globes of flesh accentuated by plunging thong straps, or silky hip-huggers straining to enclose his mouth-watering cheeks.

"See? You can click on any story or ..." Lief scrolled down further to pics of him posing in artful yet provocative ways, "... you can browse the photo arcade. You're an athlete so maybe you'll like this one."

With a tap of the mousepad we flashed to a photo of himself descending a staircase in a Golden State Warriors basketball jersey and white thigh-high stockings. I was agog. He was at the top of the stairs staring straight into the camera with a seductive smile on his face. The jersey barely covered his hips and his dangling cockhead was clearly visible.

Before I could fully register what my eyes were beholding, the image changed to him halfway down the stairs with the jersey hem revealing a shadowed glimpse of more of what lay beneath.

Next, the image changed to Lief atop the bottom stair with his image taking up the entire frame. One hand held the jersey low while the other raised it enough so his sex was fully on display. His flaccid, cut phallus hung several inches long with a smooth, hairless ball sack behind. His lips were an opalescent rose and his smile was a knowing smirk of erotic capture.

Next, he was turned to the wall with his butt thrust back testing the stretch of the jersey fabric and the hem of the stockings further pursing his bodacious tush.

Next, he had the hem lifted and the full contour of his unblemished ass was exposed to the viewers ogling eyes.

Next, he was looking coyly over his shoulder as he started up the steps with both pearly lobes revealed and a hint of his rosebud winking to the camera. A curled index finger gave the 'follow me' sign.

Next, were a series of shots of him climbing the stairs, stepping one foot in front of the other so that first one glorious cheek bulged outward, then the other.

At the top of the staircase, he was paused before disappearing around a corner, offering one last glimpse of his delectable tush and waving the viewer to join him.

"So, what do you think?"

I was transfixed by the images. I had never seen such a beautiful man on display for my prurient pleasure. It sent a shiver through my entire body. I looked over at Lief and wanted to pounce and cover every inch of him with sloppy kisses. I was besotted and confessed the truth. "I think you are the most beguiling man I've ever met. The photos are tasteful yet shockingly sensual."

"Really? Good, because I'm hoping you'll help me add a short film to the site."

At this point I would do almost anything Lief asked but ... "Lief, I'm not going to do a porno, if that's what you mean."

"No, God no. Something artful yet subversively erotic." Confusion was evident on my face so he added, "Here. Let me give you an idea of what I mean." He clicked another icon.

An image of him from naval to thigh appeared clad only in silver bikini briefs. A woman's hand came into frame and poured baby oil generously over the fabric turning it translucent. The contour of his cock came clearly into view, the shape of its crown glistening and plump. The hand started to caress its form with beads of oil bubbling beneath her fingers. The cock stiffened and grew as she massaged the tender tissue. In the distance, the man -- Lief -- could be heard moaning. The spreading flesh strained upward, first pressing against the garment's waistband, then bursting above. Delicate fingers teased the slick flesh, circling the plump crown and playing with the cumhole. Her thumb was manicured and ruby-red as it thrummed over the sensitive frenulum causing the penis to quiver and the man to gasp. Then she lifted the hem and guided the cock back beneath the slick fabric. The female hand continued to masturbate the cock through the glistening silk.

I was mesmerized at the sight and made no attempt to stop Lief's hand as it lit upon my thigh. "See, the thing is the two people are disembodied, lending a sense of the ephemeral."

Gentle fingers traced circles ascending my thigh. "Making the effect even more tactile, sensual."

My breath trembled as Lief explored the length of my painfully confined erection. "The viewer is transported into the frame with ease, imagining that it is him being stroked by the graceful hand of everywoman."

The image started to squirm and the cock quiver under the woman's taunting ministrations. Lief's hand cupped my manhood and stroked it in unison to the images. "That's what I mean by subversively erotic." Lief withdrew his hand. "By the way, I can tell you have a very nice cock but we don't want to get too carried away here in a classroom."

I felt rejected yet relieved as my concentration turned fully to the screen. The man could be heard panting as his engorged penis throbbed within the woman's insistent stroking. Then the entire torso shuddered and, beneath the viscous sheen of the panties, a thick pool spurted from the cockhead, again and again. The puddle swelled and spread. When the torso calmed, the hand lovingly patted the softening organ, then retreated from sight.

"So, what do you think? Your face would never appear. You would be totally unidentifiable. But, this time, I would be fully in frame. Are you up for it? Will you help me?" He closed his laptop and looked to me with pleading eyes.

Maybe I was letting my dick do my thinking but I said yes. He actually clapped with glee. "Oh boy! We're gonna have such a good time. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

Then, with a quick kiss on my flushed cheek, he was gone. I sat in dismayed silence wondering what I had just agreed to and when my erection might subside enough for me to leave the room.