Author's note: The young man who had his first exposure to man on man sex here:
https://www.literotica.com/s/my-first-time-289
is now 10 years older.
Although he had watched and waited for the return of the man in the Chrysler he was never to see him again. And, stuffing the experience and the feelings that it evoked within him, he moved on with his life, served his country proudly for 4 years in the United States Navy, returned to civilian life and sought to continue his education.
Having chosen to pursue a major in political science with a concentration in public service with an academic minor in management he was laying the groundwork for a number of possible professional as well as postgraduate pursuits. Any of them would afford him the opportunity to be of service to his community. He wished to serve.
In his personal life, he had made physical fitness a priority. At 6 ft, 170 lbs his physique was lean and fit -- what one would expect from an endurance athlete. That coupled with his light brown hair, gray eyes (the girls called them soft and warm) and masculine demeanor made dating girls not a particular challenge - he did not lack for friends. His mind seldom returned to that moment in time that was the front seat of the Chrysler -- except each year on this date and it still disarmed him. And so:
It was another one of those hot and humid August days like so many others as the dog days of the New England summer meandered toward the inevitable crisp clarity of autumn. Except that it wasn't. And it wasn't because it was exactly on this date 10 years before when a seemingly simple hitchhike home rapidly evolved into my introduction to something at once terrifying and magical -- the reality of my bisexuality.
Life and circumstances took my life in another direction and I was now far removed from that hot summer day so long ago. I was now a grown man with goals and ambitions and was pursuing an education to achieve them.
In my fourth year and on the cusp of receiving my baccalaureate, I had been afforded an opportunity to engage in a unique program involving the local community. I was pursuing postgraduate credit by conducting research on governmental versus non-governmental institutional effectiveness in a broadly diverse urban setting; I had made significant progress in obtaining raw data but was unclear about the way forward. Accordingly, I sought out my faculty advisor who, in turn, referred me to the department's leading scholar on complex urban issues. I reached out and made an appointment to see him the following day.
I arrived in the department reception area a few minutes before the appointed time and, after a moment was directed to the Prof's office. I was accustomed to faculty who were rather nontraditional but was a bit taken aback by the large emblem that I saw mounted on Dr. Wilson's wall -- it was a triskelion -- 3 spirals imprinted on a circular medallion: a symbol that can be interpreted in a number of ways. The presence of that emblem seemed to evoke a feeling of both uncertainty and curiosity within me. There was something else as well but I wasn't quite certain what that was.
He greeted me and invited me into his office, stood, shook my hand and then indicated that my faculty advisor had reached out to him and he was expecting me. He was a bit of an imposing figure. Tall, perhaps an inch or so taller than me, solidly built, he seemed to exude a rather undefined quality -- masculinity, yes, but something beyond that. When he noticed my glance at the triskelion, he looked directly at me and asked me if I knew what it was. I found his gaze a bit disarming but unhesitatingly replied that I had seen it before. His tone was cordial, conversational and yet there seemed to be a projection of that quality that I could not quite identify.
I had prepared a brief outline of what I was doing and why I was seeking his assistance and handed him a copy. He glanced at it then looked directly at me and said 'Organized and prepared -- I like that' and I know I felt something as he began to review the outline. His tone and directness were a bit disarming but I found myself somehow drawn to it and something was definitely stirring within me. I shrugged it off so I could concentrate and we discussed my research and what I hoped to accomplish with it. I then explained that I was seeking his help with determining the optimum approach to compiling, analyzing and presenting the results.
He appeared to have been listening intently, nodding and reviewing the outline. When I finished he again looked up directly into my eyes and he said that he understood. OK, that direct stare was at once intimidating and electrifying and I had no idea why. And then he wheeled his office chair barely perceptibly toward me and, looking me in the eye, said 'I can help you.' And I felt the shock waves coursing.
He then proceeded to jot down a listing of references, organizations and points of contact. It was handwritten with clarity, specificity and precision and I was truly impressed. He said that should get me started and to check back with him periodically, probably on a weekly basis. I thanked him profusely and he again looked me in the eye and said 'You are quite welcome.' The commanding tone in his voice was palpable and, and- - - - I liked it.
Over the next several weeks I devoted nearly every free moment to the research and developed a comprehensive framework for the product that I hoped would result. I had a standing appointment with Dr. Wilson every Friday afternoon and I would brief him on the project. After my fourth briefing as I was putting my notes away he asked me in a very personal tone how I was doing? I responded that the contacts and the guidance that he had given me were extremely helpful and that I was indebted to him. He responded that he was asking more about me personally than the research and it took me by surprise. I responded that I was doing well and thanked him for asking, perhaps a little too profusely. He looked at me with a hint of a smile and said. 'Good; very good, I like your progress but there is more to life.' There was more than an underlying something to his comment and I really liked how it made me feel. Wilson was a legend on campus with a reputation for being stern and intolerant but I hadn't experienced him that way at all. I then realized what exactly it was that I had been experiencing when in his presence: I was attracted to him and that was more than a little disarming.
