Chance woke up the next morning feeling wonderfully refreshed, more invigorated than he could remember feeling in a long time. He stretched out the length of his firm hard body in bed, savoring the feel of his dick rubbing against the cotton sheet. What a milestone night last night was. Sex, a glorious bout of sex.
Finally. And what incredibly satisfying sex it was. Dang, son, he laughed to himself, I think you're on to something here. You may have found what you'd always been looking for but didn't rightly realize.
A vibrant, electric future seemed to stretch out in front of Chance, a wild montage of manly beauty - cocks of every size, hard and soft, hairy and smooth, cut and uncut, thin and fat; firm muscles to stroke and lick; hot, anxious mouths and dancing tongues; lips brushing against beard-stubbled cheeks; and dangling ballsacs, ripe for caressing - the whole dazzling scene covered in a sweet glaze of thick cream.
Chance was amped to face the day now. He rose out of bed savoring every move of his muscles. He walked nude, long dick swinging listlessly in the stillness of 6AM, out of his small bedroom into the common room he and his roommate shared, to make a cup of tea.
He brought one of Reed's stroke books with him to leaf through as he waited for the water to boil. His roommate was still asleep. Life went on yesterday for old Tommy there as usual, prob'ly, Chance figured, and had to laugh in a kind of giddy, stunned amazement at how for himself it had changed utterly.
Damn, he liked guys' dicks, he could finally admit to himself, flipping through the magazine and rubbing his own as he waited for his tea to steep. He stopped to dwell on the photo of a gorgeous young stud whose long, pointy-headed, cut cock was in full erection.
So beautiful, so sexy - thick, sleek, alive with a kind of power; fuck, he could suck on one all day, it felt so good in his mouth. Guys' mouths, he realized, were made for guys' dicks. To rub lips over, to caress with a tongue, to get slick, wet, hard, and ready to shoot. It was wonderful to be able to luxuriate in the desire for them so frankly now.
He realized now that for years, since high school, probably, or even before, every time he'd seen a hot guy, in person or in a photo, he'd wondered about the guy's dick. And when he had a chance, in showers or locker rooms, to see one, he sure took it. He could probably sketch from memory, it dawned on him, the cock of every guy he showered with in high school. Oh well, he grinned happily, thinking of Reed's comment from last night, 'guilty as charged'!
Except he didn't feel guilty at all; instead, he felt like he was primed to start having the best sex of his life, the kind he'd only dared dream about. And damn! he laughed, he wanted as much as possible right now! He was way overdue.
He laid aside the magazine and stared out the window while he sipped his tea, looking out on an exciting world. The leaves were turning - and hey, so was he. It's funny, he thought, as he rubbed his dick idly, he had had such awful luck in sex until things bloomed so wildly and abruptly with Reed.
He tried sorting it all out in his mind. Despite how badly he'd craved the hard, physical passion of sex, it had been an empty scene at best for him, a fevered space of masturbation and longing, punctuated by a few half-assed attempts with women, and endless fascination with male musculature.
Now sex seemed like a rich, exotic land full of drama and promise, a place where fulfillment would be beyond what he could have hoped for. Hope had transformed into discovery. It was like his daddy always told him when Chance'd kept trying - and failing - to do something one way, but then hit pay dirt by trying a different way: Son, you were just fishing in the wrong stream, is all.
After tea, he took a half-hour run to get warmed up before wrestling practice. Even on his run, he felt better, stronger. It's like I'm more centered, like I fit a little snugger in myself, he thought. More alive to the world.
Back at the dorm he took a quick shower and got dressed. He decided on no jock today; he wanted to hang full, firm, and loose, especially at wrestling practice. He wanted to saunter around like a bull stud, potent with sperm - that's how amped he felt.
Today in the gym was a day to fully savor the feel of his raw dick, covered only by a thin singlet, as it curved out obscenely away from his body or brushed another guy's body or pressed up hard against it. So he threw on some jeans, another too-small T, and his Carhartt jacket. It was 7:20, right on time to meet Reed.
Reed was dressed and ready. They kissed, hugged, and smiled at each other. Reed gazed at that strip of hard abs, visible between the bottom of Chance's T and the top of his jeans. But no jock this time, just hard flesh all the way into the low-rising waistband of his jeans. His mouth watered. No time for small talk, though, as Chance wanted to hustle them to the gym.
The wrestlers lifted and practiced in a small, though ample space on the second floor of the school's athletic complex. The wrestling program was highly-ranked nationally, its coach had won two national championships, so it rated a good space in the athletic program pecking order.
The wrestlers had their own locker room and shower space, plus a big enough practice room to be divided in half - weights/machines and mats - so the wrestling program was its own little world, independent of either mainstream college students or any of the other teams' athletes.
In the locker room, Reed watched excitedly as Chance stowed his jacket, took off his work boots and socks, then stripped off first shirt and then jeans.
"Damn," he laughed, "free-balling today, huh? I thought so."
"It's the way I feel today, thanks to you," he said, bending over to kiss Reed, who lovingly stroked that luscious dick. "I just wanna let it all hang out. Hey, ain't you gonna change?"
"In a minute. I wanna enjoy the show. Fuck, would I love to suck you off right here."
Chance laughed and wriggled into one of the singlets he had stored in his locker. Reed had to give out with a deep, rich 'damn' when he saw how outrageously outlined his thick, naked cock was under the singlet. "Fuck, man, you might as well be wrestling nude, like the Greeks."
"I'm kinda into celebrating my body today, dude."
"It's gonna be quite a fucking celebration, then, let me tell you. God-damned national holiday, the way you're built."