Cadet Dylan Hunt opened the door to his room and came
face to face, so to speak, with a giant erection about to spit its sperm
into a piece of wadded tissue. It wasn’t exactly a welcoming sight.
The fact that he had just returned from a date with a pert Academy firsty
did little to stop an erection from growing under his leather dress pants.
“Rhade, you don’t get laid enough.” He said with a big grin. His Nietzschean roommate was, in his present state, incapable of replying or for that matter stopping. He had no other option than to continue his actions while Dylan Hunt looked on with a self-satisfied look on his face.
Dylan of course could not just watch intently, while hiding the interest that was invoked, as his roommate finished the act. He sat down on his twin bed and pretended to unlace and give a quick polish to his boots. When Rhade dropped the wet tissue on the floor and pretended to sleep, it was time for another comment.
“Actually, you don’t get laid at all. There are women . . . “ and he thought men . . “ all over this campus who would be more than willing to help you with your ‘so to speak’ problem. Why do you spend your nights here alone?”
Rhade grumbled and rolled over toward the wall and away from his roommate.
“I know it’s not because you are a virgin. You’ve told me stories about your damn ‘test pregnancies’. If you can have children, why can’t you have a little fun? And spare me sights like these.” Dylan was glad that Rhade was looking at the wall and not at the front of his pants still clearly outlined an erection that would not go away. The warmth of his bed would have to wait until the insulating sounds of water in the shower would allow him to find the necessary relief.
* * * * *
Dylan thought he was safe from Rhade’s keen hearing in the shower. He was wrong. His roommate listened as he heard Dylan banging his pelvis, or was it his head, on the metal shower stall. He’d been listening to Dylan cum for the past two years thinking about that long, smooth, human cock being skillfully manipulated by Dylan’s strong hands. Despite his numerous, and often described in detail (at least those with women), sexual exploits, Dylan Hunt always seemed horny. Rhade often believed that he would jump anything with a pulse, which made it even more humiliating, that he had never tried anything with him.
He imagined Dylan’s hands on his body, on his cock, but found his thoughts muddled in a sea of the unknown. He had had exactly three sexual experiences, if you didn’t count his solo exploits. Two of those had produced pregnancies in extremely fertile but not particularly interesting Nietzschean females. The children produced would not even be considered his, but given the bloodline of the women’s husbands. George Franklin and Elizabeth Westmoreland did not carry the name Rhade with them. They were important because they had proved his worthiness as a Nietzschean male, but he would never know them. Perhaps now one of their true fathers would choose him to marry a sister, daughter or a niece. Until then he could wait.
The other woman in his life Josephine Marx had been a special class of Nietzschean woman. She had been his first. He shuddered to think of what number he might have been for her. Some women, usually those whose husband had been killed in battle and whose children were not quite up to Nietzschean standards, had been specially trained to teach young boys in the art and science of sexual practices. These first couplings would not produce children, but rather give the young men the knowledge necessary to move on to the test pregnancy state.
Josephine had been better, from what he had heard, than most. She was still attractive and went out of her way to show him a few techniques that were used merely for pleasure and not for pregnancy. He still remembered her thin lips around his penis, moving her tongue along its length and coaxing his sperm into his mouth. He hated to admit that this finally answered the questions he had had about the wet spots that sometime appeared on his bed when he awoke. He felt relieved and not only because he now knew he did not suffer from enuresis. Still he was envious of humans like Dylan who got to learn through experience and benefit from the thrill of anticipation.
* * * * *
Dylan did not look up as Rhade entered the room and threw his books on the bed. It was one of those crunch times when Dylan spent all his time reading or working out. Exams were in less than a week and Dylan always convinced himself that this time he was going to fail. Of course his standing in the ninety-ninth percentile of his class should have belied such thoughts, but Dylan had never been successful believing that his grades were anything but an aberration.
“I can’t believe it, Dylan, I got called for a flight physical right after exams.”
“You’re fine, Rhade, relax and study.” Dylan realized the two were mutually exclusive but said nothing to modify his statement. “I did it at the end of last summer, nothing to worry about.”
“Yes, but you didn’t tell me about the colon monitors.”
“They’re just suppositories. You put them in before you got to sleep at night and collect them the next morning. No big deal.”
“What do you mean, no big deal, you have to put them up your . . .”
“Do you have a better suggestion on how you can monitor your colon. Perhaps you could slip them under your tongue, or in your armpit.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried to . . . “ Rhade stopped for a second and Dylan wondered if he was looking for an euphemism or had more he wanted to say. “I don’t know how some of the guys do it. Anal sex. I think I would be horrible at it, the thought of putting anything in my . . . “
“Damn, it was an euphemism he was looking for,” Dylan thought.
“. . Asshole. . . ”
“Wrong.” Dylan thought with glee.
“I can’t do it myself. I know I can’t. I know it is a horrible thing to ask, but can you help me?”
Dylan’s face was as white as Rhade’s was red. He knew he had to say something reassuring and scientific to his roommate to keep the results from thoughts of applying lubricant and fingering the Nietzschean’s prostate from becoming apparent.
“You can’t compare insertion of a colon monitor with anal sex. The suppository is barely a half- inch in diameter and pre-lubricated. It slips in very easily and once in place you don’t even know it is there.” He continued to try and read Rhade’s face. It was not relaxing. Hot damn, he was going to get a chance to stick his fingers up his roommate’s ass.
* * * * *
Rhade had spent a half hour in the bathroom. First he had taken a long hot shower. He wanted to be clean all over, and he used a scented body gel to make sure he was. One sniff of the gel, coupled with the thoughts of what was going to happen in a few minutes, made him adjust the shower temperature to cold. You couldn’t lower your pajama bottoms in front of Dylan with a big boner. That was too obvious.
He then spent a great deal of time running his clipper-trimmer over his body. All of his body hair was now controlled and groomed. He knew if he had shaved it off Dylan would have suspected, but a nice even trim probably wouldn’t even be noticed. It just made him feel better. Still he had heard stories about Dylan and that Wookiee cadet that made him wonder if his roommate didn’t prefer his men hairy. He had chalked it up to the fact that Dylan liked . . . well just about everything . . . but him.
Still he didn’t want to be too obvious. For this plan to have any chance of working, he would have to make Dylan think it was his idea. He knew that Dylan would not be impressed by a total bottom who lay there and just received. Shit, why was he thinking of those test pregnancies again? Exam time wasn’t the best time for a seduction, but it was the only opportunity he might ever get.
He took a long slow piss and wondered. . . no that wasn’t going to happen tonight. It would appear way too obvious. He was just going to let Dylan touch him in a natural and clinical way and see what . . . damn he was getting hard again. He cursed and wiped off his dick with a very cold washcloth.
* * * *
“Took you long enough. I finished another chapter while you were in the bathroom. Are you ready?”
Rhade nodded his head tentatively.
“It’s not that bad. I can’t believe you’ve never had one of these tests.”
“Nietzscheans only use them when there is a problem. Obviously, I’ve had no problems.”
“Obviously.”
“Do I just lie down on the bed?”
“Unless you want to try it standing up?”
Rhade’s knew his face was turning pale.
“Do you have any lube?”
“They’re already lubricated. Any more lube and they will go flying across the room when I pinch them.”
“Not for them, for me. Can’t you put some lube on me, it might hurt.”
“It’s not going to hurt. But if you insist.”
Dylan opened his drawer and searched through the packets of condoms and lubes. It was taking a while. Obviously Dylan had been spending most of his time with females. Rhade tensed his groomed buttocks and gritted his brushed teeth.
“It might help if you relax.” Dylan suggested.
“How? When I know you are . . .”
Dylan ran his hands down Rhade’s shoulders and back. This was more than he had asked for. The handsome cadet straddled his body and gave him a good strong backrub. Rhade sighed, and hoped he would not spoil the whole plan by getting an erection.
When the hands reached the cheeks of his ass they did not stop their kneading motion. Rhade let out a long stream of air and relaxed under Dylan’s touch. All calm was lost when he felt the squirt of the cold lubricant and Dylan’s fingers touching the sensitive rim. If Dylan took any longer he knew he was going to cum and would have to spend the night sleeping on his stomach. Dylan, however, did not tarry. The probe slipped in effortlessly and began its monitoring without feeling or further attention from Dylan Hunt who returned to his study after pulling the blankets up over Rhade’s naked body.
* * * * * *
The scene had been repeated for the last three nights. Dylan had shown nothing but a clinical professionalism. The tension story no longer held merit, as the probe had always gone in easily. In fact Rhade feared that Dylan would suggest that they forego the lube so that the only contact would be with the probe itself. He was getting desperate and not just about the exams that would start in two days. He was smart enough to realize that even Dylan Hunt would not want to spend half the night fucking during the week of exams. It was tonight or never.
After his shower he walked over to the bottle of scotch and poured a glass for himself and Dylan.
“What’s this?” Dylan asked as Rhade placed the glass in front of him.
“I thought you might need . . like . . . a drink.”
“I’m studying. Let me stuff that little thingy up your ass and get back to it. My first exam . . .
Rhade realized that Dylan was reading the look on his face as he chugged his scotch.
“There’s a problem, Dylan.”
“The found something. Already. It has to be a mistake. You are the healthiest man I know.”
“It’s not that. I’m fine. As least as far as they can tell.”
“What?”
“You know that probe is supposed to move up into your colon after it is inserted. Well, for some reason it is not. They said something about the size of my internal sphincter – I know that this is probably more than you want to know, Dylan, but they are not getting a correct reading.”
“I always knew you were a tight ass.” Dylan joked.
“Well, they suggest that perhaps I could insert the probe further. Help it on its way. Of course, I didn’t tell them that my roommate helped me . . . because I am too inept and . . . to do it myself.”
“Of course I’ll help you. You didn’t need to ply me with alcohol. What are friends for anyway?”
“But, friends don’t ask friends to . . .”
“Get down on the bed, Rhade, your wish is my command.”
* * * * *
“Perhaps I have let this little charade go on a day or two too long,” Dylan thought as he straddled his roommate’s body. “Still it might be fun to see how far Rhade was willing to take it.”
He decided that the back rub would need to be reinstated and this time with a slowness and sensitivity that he had learned from years of experience.
“Perhaps you have been too tense. I know it goes in easily, but if you don’t relax, it is not going to travel up the. . . “
Rhade groaned. Dylan knew he liked the backrubs a lot. “Roll over.”
“What?”
“Maybe the problem is that while you are loose on the back half of your body, there is a lot of tension on the front, you know the anal cavity . . . “ Dylan was pulling the lines out of an old anatomy textbook but they sounded as if he was pulling them out his ass. Still the fact that Rhade said nothing led him to believe that he was on the right track.
Rhade rolled over and discreetly covered the lower half of his body with a sheet. Dylan ignored it and concentrated on massaging the Nietzschean’s pecs.
“I sense a little tension here.” Dylan stated as he rolled a nipple between his fingers. He removed his finger, wet it in his mouth, and replaced it.
“That’s not exactly sterile.” Rhade commented. Dylan wanted to much to just start kissing where his hands and been. This was going to be harder than he thought.
“Do you want me to use some massage oil? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” His eyes glanced down to the growing tent rising between Rhade’s legs.
“It’s OK.”
Dylan looked down again. It was now or never.
“You realize that the problem might result from your prostate being a little swollen. When was the last time you relieved yourself?”
The look on Rhade’s face indicated a misunderstanding. “Masturbated?” Dylan asked again with a clinical disdain.
“Last week.”
“Then perhaps you should . . . do you want to go into the bathroom? Or we could do it here. I could help if you wanted?”
The look in Rhade’s eyes left nothing to question. It was full speed ahead.
Dylan removed the sheet and carefully ignored the engulfed penis that rose straight up from the dark public hair. Stories he had heard about Nietzschean penis being larger than humans seemed true in this case, despite Rhade’s smaller body size his penis was as long and thick as Dylan’s. His hands, however, carefully cupped the testicles and lifted them upward to gain access to their posterior side. His fingers moved deftly, pushing hard in the area just in front of the anal opening. Then they traveled down the left testicle and he found his reward in a jet of fluid that landed on his chest.
“What?” Rhade drew a deep breath. “What did you do?”
“A friend of mine who is a nursing student showed me that. There’s this spot. If you press it right you will cum instantly. They do that with the old men who get too randy. I can’t believe. . . “
“I’ve heard that, but always thought it was an old wives’ tale.”
“Do I look like an old wife to you? Or maybe it’s you who is the . . .”
“Well at least I am relaxed.”
“If that was your problem.”
“What?”
“Roll over.”
* * * *
Rhade was as embarrassed as he was disappointed. Dylan had figured him out. It had been a lame excuse anyway. He was surprised that Dylan had gone along with it as long as he did. Now Dylan had figured it out.
“Your timing is impeccably bad, Rhade. We’ve lived together for two years now, and you wait until the week before finals to . . . “
Rhade buried his face in the pillow. He heard the tear of the metal packet of lube and actually tensed his buttocks in anticipation of Dylan touching him again. The hands were back and he felt a finger slowly moving around his opening, carefully rubbing. He gasped as the finger went in, past both sphincters, and slowly opened the way for the probe. Dylan Hunt had true leadership, or maybe medical, promise.
“How loose do you think it should be, Rhade?” Dylan was leaning forward, hoarsely whispering in his ear. “Is one finger enough, or should I use two?”
He didn’t answer, he couldn’t answer. He’d never had anything in his ass bigger than the colon probe, now he had two of Dylan Hunts long fingers. He relaxed to allow the fingers room to move, but they were gone. He wondered what was coming next.
“Do you think we have enough lubricant? Or would this help. Sorry if it’s not, how did you put it, exactly sterile.”
Rhade had never experienced anything like this. Dylan Hunt had buried his face in his buttocks and was slowly running his tongue around his anal opening. Cold lubed fingers were one thing, a wet hot tongue. He had just cum and he was sure he was going to once again. He couldn’t talk and now Dylan couldn’t either. He made a sort of ‘sucking in’ motion with muscles that up to now he didn’t even know he had.
“Good boy, Rhade.” Dylan had come up for air and Rhade heard another tear.
“Think we need more lube?”
“Not lube this time, Rhade. I think we might need to put the probe in further than my fingers can reach.”
“How are you going to do that?” Rhade realized that he was very stupid as soon as he said it. He’d seen Dylan’s cock, and now he felt it pushing into him. He tried the motion again, and Dylan continued his entry.
What transpired next was akin to a movie farce. Both men reciting lines that while appropriate in a clinical setting bore no resemblance to what was actually happening. Rhade enjoyed the relaxation and contraction of his own body as much as Dylan seemed to be enjoying his hard thrusts. This was absolutely nothing like the sex he had experienced with his former partners. He wondered what a Nietzschean bride would think if he suggested this little perversion. He’d love to feel what Dylan was feeling.
It was the trail of soft kisses on his neck, before Dylan came in his ass, that finally convinced him that Dylan wanted him to be aware that this was not just over concern for his medical problems. Rhade rolled over and began to plunder his roommates mouth with deep kisses. It wasn’t foreplay; it was giving thanks.
* * * *
You’re a hard . . . difficult . . . man to read, Rhade.” Dylan managed to say when his roommate finally released his mouth. They were still holding each other tightly, naked with a spent full condom between them. “As I said the timing could have been better.”
“I didn’t pick when I was called for my flight physical.”
“You are many things Gaheris, but a good liar is not one of them. They would never run a flight physical during the exam period. The readings they got would have been distorted by sleep depravation and general anxiety.”
“You knew?”
“Of course, I knew.”
“And you went along?”
“I liked watching you squirm.”
“But why not the first night then. Why wait?”
“As I said.”
“But what if I hadn’t come up with this harebrained story tonight. How long would you have waited.”
“I was willing to wait until break. Suggest you accompany me to a nice resort, ply you with sun and tropical drinks, and jump on your bones.”
“You mean. . . you mean . . . we’re not going to get to do that now.”
“Yea, you can come, I already have the reservations, I
just hope you won’t be too slighted when I jump out of bed and go back
to studying. As I said your timing wasn’t the best.”
McJude
December 15, 2003.