Everyone has a quiet place. A place where you feel safe, where you can sit with your thoughts and your feelings. If you don't have one, I recommend that you find one. For me, that place is just a few blocks off campus, a coffee house. I like going there late in the afternoon. I can relax with my favorite book, study or just enjoy my favorite drink. I can unload my mental baggage.
I always sit in the same spot in front of the big bay window. At a table that provides me with a perfect view of the park that sits on the west side of campus. A heavily wooded park with its perfectly trimmed bushes and hedges. Park benches symmetrically placed along the long walkways. Its large well-kept majestic trees creating a perfect canopy for a perfect shade from early morning to late afternoon. Beyond that, majestic old college buildings sprinkled between the new shiny towering ones.
It's at that spot that I have found my safe place. My peace. My comfort zone away from everyone and everything...
I haven't been out in months but I do like coming here in the late afternoons. I've thrown myself into my studies and I quit soccer. Once word got out to everyone that my sexual preference had changed, everything else changed.
Growing up soccer was my passion, my love. I was highly recruited out of high school by colleges and pro teams. I chose college. So why did I quit? Because once the soccer world discovered my sexual preference, they quit on me. It seems that not very many professional teams are interested in having the first openly gay athlete on their squad.
I had one year left in college and I completely lost the love for the game. Seems here lately I've lost the love for almost everything. I lost my boyfriend because he was in the same boat as I was. Except his stage is much bigger. He'll be drafted number one in the upcoming NBA draft and he stood to lose millions. So, he did the smart thing, he dropped me.
I spend a lot of time on myself now. Studies, martial arts, and my sanity. I didn't move back home with my parents when Ty left me. I still live in my sister's posh apartment building. My parents have known almost from the beginning and they've been a great help. Because of them, I can afford the pricey apartment.
I make fun of my dad because I think it hurt him more than it did me when Thomas disappeared. He liked Thomas, he used to tell me that Thomas would take care of me. That he would be good for me. I didn't have the heart to tell my father that I wasn't good for Thomas. That I'm the reason he left, I asked him to leave.
Now it's just me. I think of Thomas from time to time. Everyone remembers their first. Years of chasing women and all of a sudden, I fall for a man. I just wish I could have stayed true to him. In the end, it was all just too much. The intensity of his life was just too much, I quit on him.
"There you go, babe." The baristas voice breaking my thought as he sets my latte down in front of me.
"Thank you," I respond, looking up at him with a polite smile.
I know he wants to say something else to me but for whatever the reason he never does. He just smiles and then slowly turns to go back to his station. It's been like that for me for the past few months.
When Ty dumped me, I didn't blame him for leaving me. Had he stayed with me, as I said, he probably would've lost millions on his first contract. Still...it hurt.
Ty wasn't intense outside of the bedroom. He was just a big kid. Still is. Only a 19yr old man-child. A man-child that will be a multimillionaire in a few weeks. He still has a lot to learn about life. Honestly? Even if he had chosen to stay with me, I probably would've left him.
I think of Thomas and I think of Ty. They couldn't have been more opposite. One was quiet and extremely intense. The other was like a big puppy that can't sit still, always needing looking after. Both very handsome, one white and the other black.
Taking a sip of my drink I focus on the one thing that they both had in common. The bedroom. Both of these men knew how to fuck me. They knew how to make me squeal every time. I loved dressing up for them and making them crazy. I loved how their cocks stretched me, opened me...I smile. While they fucked me, I was in bliss. Every time, I was in bliss.
I can still imagine the feeling. The veins and ridges of their cocks as they slid in and out of me. How their cocks would flex when they dumped rope after rope of their thick creamy cum deep inside of me. The sweat of our bodies during our long fuck sessions. I say fuck session because that's what they did to me. They fucked me; they didn't make love to me.
Well, maybe Thomas did...another smile escapes me.
They both loved me on my knees with my chest and face buried into the mattress. My ass in the air. They loved pounding their long thick cocks deep into me or was that me that liked that? Who am I kidding? It was me. They loved grabbing my hips while they fucked me. Jerking me back to meet the powerful downstroke of their massive cocks. Oh, how those two loved my ass.
I never understood the term heart-shaped ass. Then I googled it, I saw the pictures. I get it now and yes; I have that ass...
Both of them loved kissing my ass and licking my asshole the way a straight guy eats pussy. Their tongues slathering my hole, their tongues darting in and out of my hole. Even now just sitting here thinking about it has my little cock dripping pre-cum.
I shouldn't say this but my favorite nights with Thomas were the nights of his night terrors. I know, that's bad. His PTSD would kick in and he would wake up in a sweat, sometimes screaming. Of course, I'd calm him down and we'd make our way out onto the balcony outside our bedroom.
I'd get him a drink and he'd eventually calm down. Once I knew that he was going to be ok I'd start kissing his neck and cooing in his ear. His hand caressing my creamy-white ass. I'd pull off my t-shirt leaving me naked on his lap. Instantly he'd start suckling my puffy nipples and I'd take his long thick cock in my hand.
I'd have to pull myself away from him before he could make my nipples hurt. Dropping to my knees I'd take that big cock head into my mouth and start sucking. What I was doing was drooling all over it. Making sure that my spit was lathering that marvelous cock. I'd get up and then turn around.
I'd back my ass up while spreading my ass cheeks, lowering myself. I'd feel that wonderful cock head on my hole. I'd take a deep breath and I'd push open my hole. Then I'd sit back taking every inch, deep, inside of me. After that, he was mine. I'd lean back against him. My tiny back against his massive chest. I'd reach up and wrap my arm around his neck to hold on.
My asshole was well trained after the first month with him. I could take him deep on the first stroke. Sitting on his cock was wonderful because I'd be in control. I'd tease him until he could no longer stand it. Some of those times he would just grab my legs and stand up. Holding me in his arms.
His strength was amazing. I would have my back to him and he would be standing, bouncing me off of his cock. Other times he would carry me back into the bedroom and throw me on the bed. Roll me on my back into the missionary position. He'd throw my legs over his shoulders and brutally fuck me.
I soon developed a taste for those brutal fuck sessions. The intensity and the power that he generated while slamming that thing in and out of me would make me blow my load almost instantly. A couple of those sessions caused me to miss class the next day. Because of the brutality. It would be a day or two for my beaten down ass hole to recover.
But oh, how I loved it then, how I miss it now. Ty's cock was slightly longer and thicker but he could never match that intensity. Honestly, I miss Thomas. I don't miss Ty...I miss that brutal fuck. I miss belonging to a real man.
Sitting there deep in thought I could feel my tiny cock dripping and feeling that urge to cry. Then just like that, life taps you on your shoulder, guiding you back to the present...
