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During my last year in college, I lived in a house where my lease gave me a room by myself and living area that I shared. When my original roommate moved out after the first semester, a junior from Malaysia moved in. I could never learn to pronounce his given name, but he went by Paul. We got along okay, and I learned a little about his country. He was the third Malaysian in my last four roommates, and the first of the three that I hadn't wanted to strangle. He didn't even lock his door when he'd leave. One day I accepted a package for him, so I took it into his bedroom. It wasn't so bad that I'd call it a pig sty, but I couldn't see any place to set the package! I went over to his desk and figured I'd stack some of his papers on top of other papers. I set the package on his chair and looked at his desk top.

Front and center, there was a thin catalog with "XXX" in large print near the top and assorted small rectangular pictures. I picked it up to move it, and I noticed that these were pictures of men. I picked the catalog up, along with some other mail that was underneath, put it on top of the other stuff that was off to the right and placed the package in the space that I'd just cleared. My roommate was gay. Despite my conservative upbringing, I didn't have a problem with it; it just came as a surprise because I'd never known a gay guy before. (As far as I knew. Doubtless, I'd known at least a couple people who didn't choose to reveal that fact to me.) When Paul came home, I told him there was a package on his desk. He thanked me and went to his room, and I didn't see him again that night. Afterward, I remembered that he had left a flier on the kitchen table a few days ago giving the exhibition schedule for the college museum for the semester, and that one of the displays was gay- and lesbian-themed art.

In the months that I'd had this apartment, I never bothered to lock the door when I showered, but the next morning I did. I knew it was silly, not to mention conceited, but knowing that Paul was gay somehow made it seem necessary. While I was in the shower, something unexpected happened. As I sometimes did, I was soaping my dick up and masturbating at the same time, and suddenly in my mind it was Paul doing both jobs. It didn't gross me out. He was standing behind me to do this, so I didn't see his dick to imagine whether it looked like the ones I saw in the catalog. (Which, by the way, were freakishly long, compared to the ones I'd seen in hetero porn.) I came before long, and I imagined my cum gathering on his hand. The flight of fancy ended when I came. I finished my shower and toweled off, but I noticed my dick was still hard. My erection subsided as I finished my morning routine. The flier that I remembered was now on the refrigerator door, and the exhibition was next week. It wasn't circled, of course.

For the next few days, I only saw Paul as he came home. He'd go into his room and close the door while I studied or watched TV, and soon I'd go to my own room. Sunday night, though, neither of us had anything we needed to do. I was sitting in the recliner and watching a movie I'd rented, and he had just come back from his job. He recognized the scene as one of his favorites, so he sat on the couch and we watched the rest of it together. After I put the movie away, he went to his room. This time he didn't close the door. I gathered my nerve and said, "Knock, knock!" Paul looked up and I walked in. "I've been meaning to ask you something." I paused. "Are you gay?" When he hesitated, I said, "I mean, I don't have a problem with it. I'm just curious."

Paul said, "I'm trying to figure it out. Why do you ask?" I told him about the catalog, trying to make it clear that I wasn't snooping when I saw it. "Yeah, a friend of mine who is gay sent that to me. I told him I was trying to sort things out, and he thought if I saw some of this, it would make my mind up one way or another. Those pictures, though, ..." He made a face as if he were tasting bitter medicine.

"That was my reaction, too," I told him. "I didn't think that was biologically feasible! Anyway, I also noticed that you posted the museum schedule just as the Gay and Lesbian Exhibition is about to start."

"I did?" he said with amusement. "That's just a coincidence. I moved it to the refrigerator a couple weeks ago to remind myself about the Southeast Asia display. That was last week."

I laughed at myself. "Well, I sure feel silly about that!" We continued our discussion. The only person we both knew was Jeanie, a sophomore who lived upstairs, and he hadn't told her. Apart from her, that meant I didn't have to worry about letting it slip, because I was probably never going to be in a position to talk to anyone that would matter. We also learned that neither of us had been with a man or a woman before. He hadn't been with a woman because the interest hadn't been there, and I hadn't because I just had bad luck. The conversation led to other, completely unrelated topics before Paul told me that he had an early class.

The kitchen was between my bedroom and the bathroom. The next morning, as I headed for the shower, I saw the museum schedule, and it dawned on me that I was more interested in the gay art show than Paul was! Now that everything was out in the open, I no longer had the irrational need to lock the bathroom door. I started on the same soaping fantasy that I'd had the week before, but it changed. Instead of Paul appearing out of nowhere, now I imagined hearing him open the bathroom door and pulling the shower curtain open. He was naked, and his cock looked like the ones in the catalog pictures. He stepped behind me and picked up where the original fantasy had begun, but now, in my imagination, I felt that cock rubbing on the inner part of my lower thigh. I could also feel his stubble on my shoulder. When his cock got close to mine, I asked him to fuck me, but then I came for real, and the fantasy ended. I was forced to acknowledge that I kind of liked the idea.

That night I had one of those group exams where all the sections take the same test at once, and when I got back, Paul had already closed his door. The next night he was out with his friends, and the night after, I went out with mine. The next night, though, I was in my room writing cover letters when I heard him come home from his job. I finished the one I was working on and came out to see him. He was on the couch, relaxing in front of the television. "Hey, Troy," he said casually.

I'd lost too many opportunities with women because I hesitated when I was nervous, and I wasn't about to miss out on this one. "Hey, Paul. You said you're trying to figure out if you're gay. Well, I've been wondering the same thing about myself."

"How come you didn't tell me before?" he asked. "We've been good friends so far."

"I didn't really figure it out until we started talking about you last week."

"Okay. Murad, the friend who sent me the catalog, told me it happens that way for some guys. Well, it doesn't just 'happen'. You don't turn gay, but that's sometimes what makes you realize it."

"Right," I said. "So anyway, since I'm curious and you're curious, ..." I mustered my courage. "Why don't we try it together?" Paul didn't answer immediately. "You can suck—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you're saying, but it's a big step. I need to think about it," Paul said.

I realized how I must have sounded, so I said, "No rush. I'm up for it if you are."

I went back to the living room and Paul shouted from his room, "I'm free tomorrow." My pulse picked up. "Do you wanna see the art show?"

My pulse normal again, I turned back and said, "Sure!"

I didn't really expect the various pieces to be explicit, and for the most part it was just depictions of two men or two women kissing or hugging. The closest thing was a metal sculpture where one man was hugging another from behind, and the forms were so vague you couldn't tell whether they were supposed to be clothed and hugging or naked and fucking. We got back at 8:30, and the college basketball team had a game on the West Coast at nine, so Paul turned the TV on while I made some pop corn. I poured it into a bowl and went to the living room. Paul was sitting on the couch. I sat down next to him, and he moved away from the center.

When the pop corn was gone, the game had been going on for fifteen minutes and we were up by four points. The coach for the other team called a time-out and they went to commercial. Paul turned to me and said, "I've thought about it. Let's give it a try."

"You're sure?" I said.

Paul put his hand on my thigh. "Absolutely. What have I got to lose?"

I put my hand on his and pulled it higher. He found my crotch and started rubbing it through my jeans. "Mmm, that feels good," I told him. "How 'bout you?"

"It feels better than fondling myself, that's for sure," he said. "Has a girl ever done it to you?"

"One girl, a couple times," I answered.

"Did you like it better from her or from me?" Paul asked.

"Hard to say," I told him. "She turned out to be a cock tease, and I can't separate the physical feeling from the bad memory."

Paul took his hand off me. "So do you think maybe you're interested in guys because of a bad experience?"

I put my hand on his thigh and said, "No, 'cause I had enough good experiences with women since then. Just no actual sex." I found his crotch and started rubbing it. "How's it feel to you?"

Paul leaned back, still in a sitting position, and closed his eyes. "Nice," he said. "Keep doing that."

I could see the shape of his cock forming under his pants. I rubbed his cock lengthwise and then reached under his fly to find the top of his zipper. "Help me out a little," I said. Paul pushed my hand away and unbuckled his belt. When he pulled the ends of his belt to the sides, I pulled his zipper down and rubbed his crotch through his underwear. He was wearing something that looked like Speedo material, but not as revealing. I got my hand between his pants and his underwear and stroked his cock some more.

"Oh, yeah," he moaned. "That feels good."

Encouraged, I found the hem of his underwear and pulled it back. I still couldn't see his cock, but I could feel his cockhead through his foreskin. Equally important, I could tell that his cock was well within the normal range, rather than the kind that we both found grotesque. I located the bottom of his head and got two fingers around it. I stroked the head up and down, the closest approximation I could do to how I masturbate. "How's this feel?" I asked. His answer consisted of raising his hips and pulling his pants down to his knees. I got four fingers most of the way around his cock, since the underwear was still between us, and I stroked it a few times. It grew long enough that his cockhead poked past the hem. I let go of it and pulled his underwear back until his right testicle was the only thing I couldn't see. I wrapped my hand around it again, the first time I'd felt another man's cock directly.

I stroked it some more, and Paul moaned his approval. "Oh, man, that's great!" I stroked it some more, and he got really hard. I don't think I'd ever seen my own cock that hard, and I'm sure I hadn't seen one that hard in any of the porn I'd seen. I stroked it even faster, just to see how hard it could get. If it was five inches when I saw the outline, it must have been seven when Paul shouted, "Yeah, I'm coming!"

"Lie back," I told him. He moved quickly and I pointed his cock in the air. Paul shouted something in Malay. I'd tasted my own cum once when I was a teenager, but I wasn't ready for someone else's yet, so I let it fly up in the air and land wherever, which meant that a teaspoon or two landed on my hand and wrist. I won't exaggerate the volume; it was probably about the same amount that I'd seen come out of my own cock when I read a really hot letter in "Penthouse", but feeling it was pretty exciting. When he finished coming, I asked him, "Did you enjoy that as much as I did?"

Paul sat up again and replied, "Couldn't you tell?"

I held my wet hand up and said, "Yeah, I had a pretty good idea."

Paul leaned in and said, "Now let's see how you like it." He pulled me to him and kissed me on the lips. I was already getting hard. He ran his finger down my spine and I got a chill. When he reached my butt, he moved his hand to the front and started rubbing my crotch. I thought my pants would burst, he got me so hard.

I lay back and unbuckled my pants. Paul unzipped them, and I pulled them down to my knees like he had done. As soon as my pants were down my cock pointed out through the opening in my boxers, so Paul didn't get the opportunity to stroke me through my underwear like I did to him. He put his thumb and forefinger around my head and stroked them up and down a few times. "I liked how you started off this way," he told me.

"That was lucky," I told him. "If you'd been poking out like I am, I would have taken the whole thing at once. But I'll keep that in mind." He kept going with just the thumb and forefinger, and I said, "Yeah, just stick with that for a while."

"You got it," Paul said. He must have kept at it that way for two minutes before I got so hard that he couldn't hold on. "Sorry, I gotta use my whole hand."

"Get off for a moment and I'll make it easier for you," I told him. He did, and I took off my shoes and pants. Paul took all his clothes off while he was up. Instead of getting back on the couch, he knelt in front of me. I had lost some of my erection during all this, and my cock was back inside my boxers. Paul pulled the boxers down to the middle of my thighs. He grasped my cock with his right hand and started stroking me again. He held me much more gently than I hold myself when I masturbate. "Switch hands," I told him, and he did. My head was at his right, and he was now using his left hand to jack me off. "Put your other hand under my head," I said. Paul must have read my mind. He got his hand in without missing a stroke, and he leaned down to kiss me again. This time I opened my mouth.

Paul saw that and he opened his too. I savored the feelings of his hand and his open mouth before I ventured forward with my tongue. He touched it with his for a few seconds and pulled back. "Make up your mind," he said. "I can stroke you or I can kiss you, but I can't concentrate on both."

"Keep going," I said. "You can kiss me when you're done."

Paul kept stroking me and I told him, "I'm gonna come!" He stroked me even harder and then let go. I'd never come this hard when I masturbated. My cock was pointed back a little bit toward me. Instead of shooting straight up, my cum peaked a little over my belly button. At least that's what I guessed, since some of it landed just below the college name on my sweatshirt. "Let me see your hand," I told him.

Paul let go of my cock and waved his hand over my face. "Dry," he said.

"Sorry you didn't get to feel what I did," I said.

"That's okay, you'll make up for it soon enough," Paul told me. He pulled my underwear off and got onto the couch between my legs. "This is what you really want to try, isn't it?"

"Part of it," I answered. Paul held my cock back with his left hand and lifted my balls with his right. He licked each one in turn, and then he sucked each one into his mouth. "You sure you haven't been with a guy before?"

He let my left ball out and answered, "I'm just doing what I've read about."

"You're very well"—I stopped as he ran his tongue from the bottom of my shaft up the underside—"read!" He held my dick down and licked me from just below the head to the place where my cock meets my groin. He held my cock up and lifted his head back. "Do it," I said without hesitation.

Paul lowered his head and let my cock enter his lips without moving them. Once he was past the head, he got his tongue under it and went down until it touched the back of his throat. I'd never felt anything as good as his lips sliding down the length of my dick. He got all but an inch or so in. He slowly moved back up and let me out. "Like it?" he asked.

"Do it again," I urged him. This time he opened his lips a little more and went down again. He must have relaxed his throat muscles, because he got all but a half-inch inside, and I was even harder than the first time. He ran his tongue around my cock, clockwise and then counterclockwise. "Up and down!" I said. He rose up and ran his tongue around my cock head before coming back down. I could feel him suck the air out between my cock and his mouth. "Yeahh ...," I groaned. Paul dispensed with the easy manner. He went up and down with greater and greater speed. He accidentally let me out once, but got me back in quickly. I wasn't quite ready to come, but I knew it wouldn't be long. "Here it comes," I told him. "Do what you want with it." Paul was coming down when I said it. He came back up and hesitated. He came down halfway and pursed his lips around me. When I looked down, the sight of my cock disappearing into his mouth put me over the top. I yelled something and let loose.

Paul ran his tongue around my dick and came back up just enough that he could wrap his hand around it. He let me out of his mouth and pointed me up again, and the next couple strands of my cum just sort of poured over the edge and down his hand. He held his hand up and said, "I told you you'd make it up to me." He moved up and asked, "So can I kiss you now?"

I reached up and found his butt. I pulled him forward, and soon he was on top of me. He came down and we kissed again. I ground my cock into his crotch as he kissed me even harder. I could taste my cum in his mouth as our tongues were briefly in a fencing match. He pulled back and I told him, "That was fantastic!"

"So I'm good at sucking?" Paul asked with a smile on his face.

"Yeah, but I was just talking about the kiss," I answered. Paul leaned over and kissed me again. I put my hands on his butt, and he ground his crotch below my cock. I knew what that should lead to, but I wasn't ready yet. I reached under his chin and ended the kiss. "Now I get to try it."

Paul got off me and looked toward his bedroom. "Why don't we go somewhere where there's more room?"

Remembering the condition of his room, I countered, "How 'bout my bed?" We went to my room and Paul hopped onto the bed. He lay back and spread his legs. "Have at it," he said. Much as he had done to me, I lifted his cock up, but I licked him from the top of his perineum as far down as I could reach, which wasn't quite to his asshole. I held his cock down on his stomach and licked my way back up. I took both his balls into my mouth and ran my tongue across them while I kept them there. I let go of his balls and his cock. I licked the underside of his cock from bottom to top and swirled my tongue around his head. I felt greedy. Instead of doing the top of his shaft like he'd done for me, I took his cockhead into my mouth right away. I was about to go down, but I remembered thinking that he must have relaxed his throat muscles. I did the same and then bobbed straight down. "Oh, God, that feels good," he said. I moved a little to the left and got my finger underneath his butt. I bobbed faster and faster while I felt around trying to find his asshole. I knew I'd found it when he lifted his butt suddenly and I briefly thought I was going to choke on his cock. He stood still in that position, and I got my index finger inside him up to the first knuckle. "Hold off, Troy, I'm not sure I want to do that yet."

He lowered himself to the mattress again, and his cock came out of my mouth. I moved my hand so that my fingertip was still touching his asshole as he went. "I need to finish this anyway," I told him. I grasped his cock with my left hand and fed myself the head. Now I was stroking him and sucking him at the same time.