I walked into my Civil War history class on the first day of the fall semester. I enrolled in this class as a crip credit. My Dad was a Civil War buff and I spent my entire life hearing about the various battles, participants, what should have been done, stupid mistakes that were made, and endless trivia. Countless weekends were spent going to Civil War battle re-enactment events and visiting historical sites. This class was going to be a cake walk. I'd coast through it and devote my energies to my math and physics classes. I had double majors in Chemistry and Mathematics with the intention of attending the School of Pharmacy. I took the minimum number of liberal arts classes because they drove me crazy.
Seats in the back of the class were already taken when I walked in. Students giggled and socialized. I took a seat in the middle of the room and waited for the professor. When he arrived I nearly dropped my rucksack from the shock. In his early thirties, he was tall and slender with sexy brown eyes. He had dark brown hair and wore a white suit. All he needed was a mint julep and Scarlett O'Hara. Instead, he had a Coke and his briefcase. There were whistles and laughter with whispers about his stud looks.
He wrote his name on the board - Seth Harlan, Ph.D. He told us he received his doctorate in history from Harvard and he had taught before at other colleges. This was his first year at our university and he was replacing the former Civil War professor who was on sabbatical. In a deep brusque voice he discussed the objective of the course while a student distributed a seventy page course syllabus. This crip course was going to cripple me. I laughed as I scanned the required reading list.
"Something funny to you, Mr. uh...uh...what's your name, sir?" Dr. Harlan definitely was not amused.
Other students looked at me and I felt a flush on my cheeks.
"It's just the syllabus, Dr. Harlan."
I don't know what came over me. Did I have a death wish? What the fuck caused me to tell the truth?
"Well, I'm glad you see the humor in my syllabus, sir. I put a joke in it and you seem to be the only one in the class to find it." Harlan was mocking me.
Paper shuffled as students searched the syllabus for the joke. I felt like the lead actor in a dark comedy and I could not help laughing again as students rustled through the syllabus for the non-existent joke. This time Dr. Harlan laughed with me.
"We have a lot of sharp people in this group. Again, what's your name?"
"Tom Kent, sir," I replied.
"Enlighten us about the joke in the syllabus."
Suddenly the class realized there was no joke and Harlan was not amused. I'd dug my grave here and knew instantly I was dropping this class. Too much work, a professor who already disliked me, a field that bored the hell out of me; I had lots of reasons to bail. I was in a shit mood by then and bluntly honest.
"The course catalogue describes this course as an overview of the American Civil War period. Your syllabus is an outline for Civil War scholars. It's okay, though, I'm dropping the class."
"Your choice, Mr. Kent."
Harlan turned his back on me and wrote on the blackboard. I noticed what a fantastic bubble ass he had; also the big package in his crotch. He was indeed a stud and I hated the loss of an hour of eye candy every day. Oh well, with Linear Algebra, Advanced Organic Chemistry, and String Theory, I needed to find a less lethal liberal arts class. Maybe another German class since I'd spoken it since birth. I walked out of the room. To my surprise, five or six others followed me.
"That man is fucking crazy! I ain't working my ass off for some piece of shit history class!"
The speaker was a tiny cute girl with monstrous spiked hair. We had barely cleared the door so Harlan and the entire class heard her comment. I heard the titter of giggles from inside the room. At the Registrar's Office I enrolled in a basic Western Civilization course. My advisor pointed out I needed five more hours of history to satisfy minimal graduation requirements. He also told me if I couldn't pass basic Western Civ I needed quit the university and become a hairdresser. I figured it couldn't be too bad.
Over the next few days I discovered the Western Civilization class was a breeze. Taught in a classroom next door to Seth Harlan's office, I was regularly treated to his cute ass walking past. He ignored me as if I had leprosy. Still, he was great eye candy and a fantastic source of masturbation fantasy. Turns out, Harlan was indeed a slave driver who kept his students in terror. Nearly fifty percent of his class had dropped out by the end of the first week, a little nugget of information provided by my roommate, Alec, who also worked in the Registrar's Office.
Alec was the perfect roommate for me, would have been for any gay man deep in the closet. About a hundred pounds overweight and pitifully ugly, he was about as sexy as moldy oatmeal. I'd seen him naked often and even with a rather large penis, I was not impressed. He was friendly, though, and we enjoyed sharing a dorm room. One's academic weakness was the other's strength so we could help each other.
In the third week of the semester I found a real treasure in the library. It was about eight thirty at night. I was doing physics research and the hard science and math material was located on the fourth floor. At that time of the night it was like I was alone in a mausoleum. I discovered the treasure when nature called and I needed to use the restroom. The fourth floor had originally housed the language lab many years ago and had a row of small language rooms not much bigger than closets. When the language lab moved to the Education building, some of those little closet rooms were turned into individual toilet cubicles. There was a nice glory hole in the toilet cubicle I entered. About three inches tall and two inches wide, it gave a perfect view of the persons sitting on the toilets in each cubicle.
As I sat on the toilet a man entered next door. I sat transfixed. He was well built and as he dropped his pants I saw a muscular ass with a dusting of dark hair on it. After a few seconds he leaned back a bit to reveal a hairy crotch and a thick dick hanging low between hairy thighs. I strained to see the hidden head of it. I held my breath as I wondered if he realized he had entered a stall with a glory hole. Then his fingers began to slowly tease his cock. He knew. In seconds, his cock was hard and had risen so I saw the shiny smooth purple mushroom head of it. He played with his piss slit and rubbed his forefinger in his precum creating a long sticky string. I was mesmerized. Suddenly he stood and pushed his cock through the glory hole.
I grasped it in my hand. His cock was hot and I could feel its muscles quivering. Fully erect, his cock had a distinctive thick vein running down the left side. His circumcision scar was perfect. I gently caressed his balls. They were in a long pendulous sack, hairy and soft. The left one hung at least a half inch or more below the right. He inhaled deeply as I put my tongue on his piss slit. I played with his mass of dark brown pubic curls and teased his cock with my tongue and kisses. I lifted his nuts and placed them, one at a time, in my mouth to suck them. His cock jerked straight up perpendicular with his stomach and I saw drops of precum roll over the edge of his knob. I lifted his sack and licked his taint. I felt him lift and attempt to spread his legs in an effort to give me better access to his hole. I licked deeper and I heard him moan. My man likes getting his ass reamed out, I thought.
I went back to his cock and swallowed it into my mouth. He was about six, maybe seven inches long, not too long to easily suck in completely. I buried my nose and face in his pubes. They smelled of Irish Spring soap. He was enjoying my blow job and suddenly he began to fuck my face, bumping against his wall. I heard him grunt and I tasted his hot cum as he shot it into my mouth, a tangy tasting cream. It had been a long time since I swallowed such an awesome load. He pulled his cock from me and stepped back. I immediately stood and pushed my own cock through the glory hole determined to get return service. It was swallowed instantly and he sucked it voraciously. I could feel his hot breath as his nose pressed in to my pubic bush. It was not long before my own load was pouring into his mouth.
As I finished shooting my load the stranger's lips were replaced by his hand as he stroked my dick and my pubes. He wore a gold signet ring with a double headed eagle crest carved into it on his right ring finger. The eagle clutched a branch etched in tiny pave diamonds and rubies. It was an unusual ring, as beautiful as his long slender fingers. I felt his lips on my knob as he gave it a kiss and then the other cubicle door opened and closed quickly. He wanted to slip away anonymously. No matter. I didn't want him to see me either.
Over the next few weeks I did research in the library several times. I did not frequent the glory hole regularly. I had two repeat performances with my friend with the delicious dick and gold signet ring, both memorable.
I worked part time as a Pharmacy Technician assisting the Pharmacist filling prescriptions and working the cash register. Our pharmacy was always extremely busy because the city had six local hospitals and several hundred physicians. There was no 'down time' in the pharmacy and always a crowd was waiting in line. On the Sunday after Thanksgiving I was busy working as cashier, processing an endless line of customers. A customer put a small basket of items on the counter and asked for his prescription.
"Name, please?"
"Seth Harlan."
