Shooting the Rapids

By K. Nitsua / Keybedder

Published on Apr 16, 2006

Gay

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SHOOTING THE RAPIDS by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2006 by the author.

I've suspected all along that Russ Adams is a take-charge kind of guy, and it turns out I'm right. As soon as we're back in my hotel room he carefully hangs up his sport jacket, then takes me in his arms and kisses me, admitting of no discussion or resistance. His neatly trimmed beard tickles my face; his lips and tongue are eager yet tender. I grab his neck and draw him close, trying to get as much as I can of his mouth. Our erections grind together through my department-store dress slacks and his Levis.

He releases me and begins to unbutton my shirt. "Is this all right?" His eyes twinkle as he asks the question, saying he already knows the answer.

For what it's worth, I hadn't felt instant lust when a hand tapped my shoulder at the opening session of the historians' conference yesterday. When I turned and saw Russ's smiling face my first reaction had been embarrassment. After all, the search committee of which I'd been chair had rejected him for an open senior position in our department just a month before.

Russ, though, was the epitome of class. "How are you, Dan? It's good to see you." We might have been any two old friends who hadn't run into each other in a while.

"Good to see you too," I managed. Fortunately we were called to attention at that moment and I didn't have to say any more.

I'm not saying much now, either, only moaning as his tongue finds my nipple. I suck in my breath sharply as his teeth nip the tender flesh, hard enough to sting.

Russ looks up at me and grins. He gives my crotch a squeeze. "I can tell you liked that. Your dick jumped." He grabs the lapels of my open shirt and maneuvers me toward the bed.

He'd started to maneuver me as soon as that opening session was over, truth to tell. He wasn't aggressive or pushy. I hadn't intended to go to lunch with him, but we somehow ended up at a table for two in the hotel restaurant.

I was stiff and tense, determined not to divulge any details of how the faculty search had gone against him. Russ, on the other hand, was relaxed and convivial. He never mentioned the interview during the course of what became a lengthy meal. The chemistry I'd felt between us during his campus visit returned, stronger now that I didn't have my chair's hat on.

Over coffee we ended up laughing over something, hearty and unrestrained. Suddenly I caught myself.

"What's the matter, Dan?"

I hesitated, then spoke. "Here we are, having a good time. Makes me feel sort of bad."

I'd let myself refer to his unsuccessful visit. Russ regarded me with a thoughtful look, then a slight smile.

"What if you tell me what went wrong? Would that make you feel better?"

"Feel better with that tie off?" Russ backs me onto the bed, having relieved me of my clothing above the waist, and starts fumbling with my belt. Not to be outdone I'm busy pushing his shirt off his shoulders. Repeated kisses keep impeding our progress stripping each other. I break off long enough to wet a finger with my spit and circle one nipple on his furry chest. A shivering gasp tells me Russ's tits are as sensitive as mine.

Encouraged, I flip him over onto his back and go to work on his chest with my mouth, until he's groaning and thrashing on the bed. Finally I stop and look down at him. In his bare-chested, unzipped, and disheveled state Russ looks even better. His eyes, free of the severe wire-rims he wears, are wide and unexpectedly tender.

"So, how am I doing?" Even in the midst of illicit carnality I want feedback.

He smiles. "Fine. Just fine."

"Nothing went wrong, Russ. You were fine," I said. The dining room was almost deserted-most of the conference participants had left for the afternoon paper sessions.

I was telling the truth. The Dean had said to me privately after the candidate had left campus, "I think we just might have our senior historian, don't you?" I had nodded in agreement, trying to keep a neutral expression. Emotions no middle-aged, married academic should be feeling for a potential colleague were coursing through me. I felt terrified and elated at the same time. More than that, I felt alive, for the first time in decades.

"Everyone liked you."

Everyone, that is, except one colleague on the search committee, shocking us all at the final recommendation meeting by venting a stream of dislike for the "shallow, uninformed, arrogant and egotistical" Professor Adams. "There is no way I could ever work with this man," he had declared.

Quiet looks of dismay had gone around the room, but the fact was that the decision had to be made by consensus. Such strong opposition from a potential colleague usually was enough to sink a candidacy, and it had done just that.

I didn't say any of this to him. What good would it do now?

"I thought maybe you didn't like me," Russ said, his eyes direct. Caught by surprise, I sputtered.

"No, no, that wasn't it at all."

I had liked him too much. I had stayed silent, not tried to counter my colleague's vitriol and convince the committee he was wrong, because I was afraid--afraid of the consequences to my marriage and to my life if Russ were to join our faculty.

"Would I be having lunch with you if I didn't like you?" I added, trying to make a joke of it.

"No, I don't think so," Russ said. "Nice of you, Dan. But then you're a nice guy." He smiled again. "How about dinner tonight?"

This was moving too fast. "Sorry, I've got to meet some people I haven't seen yet." This was true.

He wasn't going to give up. "A nightcap then? You're not going to spend all night with colleagues, and your wife's not here."

How did he know that? I was cornered. "Okay. Let's meet downstairs." I wasn't about to let him come up to my room.

"Great. How about around nine? I know a great place in this town we can go." He pushed his chair back and got up. "Looking forward to it."

His hand descended on my shoulder in a friendly gesture, but just before he lifted it his thumb moved in a discreet but unmistakable caress. I waited until he was gone to reach under the table and adjust my suddenly hard cock.

"Nice cock," Russ says, taking hold of my organ. We've finally succeeded in getting each other naked. I blush. No man's ever praised that part of my body. Russ's own cock's a beauty, not huge but straight, veined, and capped with a perfectly proportioned and colored head. I want it in my mouth so bad, but I have to wait, because right now he's got mine.

He bends and engulfs it in one swallow. My head falls back on the pillow and I gasp, "Oh my." I take hold of his head, mussing his perfect hair as he continues to blow me with rapid eager strokes, washing my balls, flicking his tongue around my crown, giving me head the way my wife never has during all our years of marriage.

"Stop," I say after a few minutes. Russ lets go and looks up, puzzled.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Absolutely nothing. I just don't want to cum yet. Otherwise that'll be it for the evening."

He chuckles. "We can't have that." He sidles upward and presses his mouth to mine again. We go back to making out like a couple of horny teenagers, finally breaking apart panting, our lips bruised and tender.

"You sure are more fun with your glasses off," Russ says.

I snort. "I'll take that as a compliment."

He remains serious. "Dan, right now I feel as good as I have in a long time. Thank you." He cups my face in his hands. "How about you?"

I look into his eyes, and find I can answer without hesitating.

"I feel great."

I wasn't surprised when we walked into the bar to see nobody but men in the place. Somehow I'd known Russ would force the issue. At least it was a good distance from the hotel and no one from the conference was likely to be here. Or if they were, they probably didn't want to be seen either.

He waited until we were sitting with a couple of beers to ask me with a slight smile, "Is this all right?"

I shrugged. "A beer is a beer."

"You know what I mean."

"So what am I supposed to do, Russ? Be offended that you brought me to a gay bar? Demand that we leave? Obviously you've drawn some conclusions about me."

He met my attempt at an indignant stare without flinching. "Was I wrong?"

After a moment I dropped my eyes. "I'm not walking out, am I?"

"You wouldn't do that. You're too nice."

"Nice," I repeat, suddenly exasperated. "That's all I am."

"No. You're also competent and intelligent." Suddenly his hand was covering mine. I was about to pull away before I remembered I was in a gay bar, and it didn't matter. "And handsome as hell."

"It was Moncrief, you know," I said.

"Moncrief?"

"Who vetoed offering you the position. Said hell would freeze over before he'd work with you." Russ had discovered my most carefully kept secret without difficulty. Trying to keep others from him seemed pointless now.

He shrugged. "The feeling was mutual. You, on the other hand..." He was now sitting so close I could feel the heat of his body. He draped an arm over my shoulder. "Right from the start we connected, didn't we?" His face was right in front of mine. Anything other than honesty was out of the question.

"Yes," I said.

Russ's eyes grew intense. "Do you still feel the same way, Dan?"

I managed not to look away as I nodded and said, "Yes."

His face lit up. "You have no idea how much I hoped you'd say that," Russ whispered. Then his lips were on mine and to my surprise I was kissing him back, so passionately and for so long that when we finally broke apart I heard a wolf whistle nearby. I blushed, and Russ grinned.

"What do you say we go back to the hotel?" I nodded.

Once on a whitewater rafting trip with my family we had gone over a drop that I wasn't ready for and I'd fallen out. The next few seconds had been pure terror as I tumbled down the rapids, struggling to get to the surface before I drowned, smashed my head against a rock, or worst of all, lost my glasses.

I felt the same way now. Back then I had emerged downriver moments later, a bit banged up and the wind knocked out of me, but unharmed and with eyewear intact. I wasn't at all sure I was going to be as lucky this time.

Neither of us said much on the way back, but in the hotel corridor, just before I stuck the key card in the lock of my room door, Russ grasped my shoulders and smiled into my eyes. "Relax, Dr. Thomson. It'll be fine."

I nodded and tried to return his smile. Then I opened the door and we walked in together.

Russ is on his back with his legs over the side of the bed and I'm kneeling on the floor between them, about to suck my first cock in god knows how long. I'm afraid I've forgotten how, but when I take his swollen purplish head with my lips and feel his shaft slide down my throat I know it's going to be okay. I lick up the salty fluid leaking from the end of his knob as I move up and down on his rod, inhaling the musky scent rising from his thick pubes. I can hear him groaning softly. It feels good to be pleasing a man, damn good.

Strong hands grasp me under the arms and pull me onto the bed on my stomach. It's Russ's turn to kneel on the floor. His hands slide underneath me and I feel his mouth on my butt, kissing and nipping. His tongue wets the top of my crack and I realize what he's going to do. I'm repelled and fascinated by the thought, but it's too late. His fingers pull my cheeks apart and his mouth finds its target. My eyes fly open and a groan rises from my throat. How can it feel so good? Muffled sounds of lust and satisfaction come from Russ as he continues to eat my hole. He lets me go, flips me over and descends on me, pinning my arms to the bed above my head as he kisses me again. I taste an unfamiliar bitterness on his lips. Just as I realize what it is he releases me, panting, triumphant.

"You are fucking hot. Turn back over."

I obey. There is a pause and I look around. Russ is fishing in the pocket of his discarded jeans. He pulls out a brightly colored foil packet. I open my mouth to protest, then close it.

I want Russ's cock up my ass.

I watch him unwrap the condom and sheath himself. He spits into his hand and applies it to the latex. He sees me watching him and smiles.

"It's pre-lubed, but I think you need a little help."

He mounts the bed and gets in position behind me. I feel his rod nudge my rear. I cradle my head on my crossed arms. My breath is coming quick and shallow, my heart is thudding with--what? Fear? Lust? Probably both.

He guides the tip of his organ between my cheeks. I feel it make contact with its target. A quick increase of pressure, then I shout with pain as he slides in.

"Shh. Relax, Dan," Russ whispers in my ear. I'm trapped under the weight of his body, there's no escape.

"I know it hurts a little. Just let yourself go and it'll get better. Trust me."

I try to obey, taking deep breaths. Gradually the pain eases and I feel him penetrate further. His cock hits something inside and tingling warmth rises and fills my entire lower body. I can't help sighing. Russ hears me and chuckles.

"Better now?"

I nod, and feel him begin to move in slow thrusts, in and out, gradually increasing in speed until his hips are beating a steady tattoo against my butt cheeks. I splay my arms out, acknowledging his conquest and my surrender. I'm filled with an emotion that I recognize after a while as joy.

Russ puts his head next to mine and steals a sidelong kiss. "How're you doing?"

"Great," I reply.

"Want to turn over?"

He pulls out and lets me roll onto my back, then grabs my ankles, lifts my legs and pushes his cock in again. This time there's no pain and I welcome the invasion. I lift my head to watch Russ fuck me. His eyes are fixed on his cock as it slides in and out of my asshole. My own cock is rock hard on my stomach, leaking a steady stream of clear fluid. Russ grabs it and starts to stroke it in time with his thrusts. Sparks of pleasure shoot through the tingling warmth and I know I can't hold out much longer. I begin to grunt, then cry, "Oh, oh, oh!" squeezing my eyes shut as my prick comes to life in his hand, expelling slimy hot jets of sperm, the first one hitting my chin.

Russ catches my eye and grins, then steps up the pace of his own thrusts. Soon his teeth clench and his face twists into a grimace. Hoarse cries of "Unggh! Unggh!" rise from his throat as he hammers my sensitized hole, emptying his own load into the rubber. Finally he stops, expelling his breath in a huge sigh as his head falls forward. I grab it and draw him to me. Our lips meet in a slow, sticky, languid kiss. We break apart and embrace, gluing ourselves together with my cum.

Finally he pulls himself out of me and lets me stretch my legs. We lie on the bed with our arms loosely around each other until our breathing returns to normal. Russ raises himself on one elbow and looks at me.

"You okay?"

I don't answer right away. Then I say, "I hope you don't take this wrong, but I'm glad you didn't get the job."

He nods, understanding. "Would have been pretty complicated."

"No way could I be your chair now. Not to mention I'm still married with two kids. Though I haven't been acting like it, have I?"

He laughs. "You've been great, Dan." He takes me in his arms. "Don't think I don't appreciate your situation. I won't make demands or encumber you in any way. That's a promise."

"Thanks, Russ." I look at the ceiling. "You know, there's the annual meeting of the state historical association coming up. I never go, but if you're going..."

Russ grins. "I like the way you're thinking. I'm also thinking how much I'd like that cock of yours up my ass."

I raise my eyebrows. "Do we have to wait till then?"

"Hell, no."

He sets to work prepping my somewhat reluctant middle-aged cock for its task. As his talented mouth begins to have its effect I sigh, lean back and close my eyes. I'm tumbling down the rapids, my clothes and eyeglasses gone, and there's no telling whether I'll emerge in one piece.

I've been waiting for this ride all my life.

END

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