Ian’s Story, Part Six

Last July, I posted about my husband’s sexual encounter one summer while he was riding on the train.  It was not intended to be the last in the series; I just never got around to posting any other entry.  I hope the following makes up for the lack of attention to Ian’s past.

Like me, Ian has made out with his fair share of different guys in lots of different places – on a train late at night, at the sleep-away summer camp he went to when he was a kid, the back rooms of bars and dance clubs, in various hotel rooms when he was a paid escort, etc.  

The main reason Ian spent some time as an escort, as I’ve mentioned before, was when he flunked out of college during his freshman year at NYU, his Dad kicked him out of the family house and set him up in a basement apartment in a building that he owned.  To make ends meet, Ian began turning tricks. 

Well, as you might guess, the major reason for Ian flunking out of college was his not going to classes.  And he didn’t to go to classes because he was doing other things.

Whoring Around, Freshman Year

After high school, I was feeling a little full of myself.  As the baby of the family, my brothers and sister had already left the house and started their own lives by the time I graduated.  College as the next expected step even though I had no idea at the time what I wanted to do with my life.  The fact was, I had grown up a bit spoiled by my family’s wealth and I was not ready to accept responsibility for my own choices.

I got into NYU easily enough and registered for typical freshman classes even though I really had very little interest in them.  I was more interested in the sense of freedom I had as a “college man”.  While I did not have to live on campus, I was there most of the day, whether I had classes or not.  I enjoyed hanging out in the Village, sitting in Washington Square Park when the weather was nice, working out in the gym, going to club meetings.  I had looked into joining a fraternity, but decided against it – too many rules and I wasn’t about to follow rules just then. 

After about three weeks of classes, I realized I did not have to go to class so long as I handed in assignments and took exams.  That gave me plenty of time to enjoy myself, or so I thought at the time. 

I remember one incident in mid-November when I was in one the libraries doing research for an Art History class.  I had had been there for about two hours and needed to use the men’s room.  I went into an end stall and no sooner had I sat down to do my business then I noticed the hole in the partition.  I glanced through and saw exactly what you would expect – a guy sitting there, pants down around his ankles, but he was hard and slowing playing with himself.  Without so much as a word, he stood up and stuck his cock through the hole.  So there it was, that one-eyed trouser-snake all hard and waiting.  I did what any slutty cock-hound does.  I took hold of it and slid my hand up and down its length a couple of times before putting it my mouth.  I sucked on it a couple of minutes before I heard heavy breathing and felt the anonymous cock grow harder.  I knew he was close.  I hand pumped it a few more times, saw the glistening of the pre-cum and had only a few seconds before it shot its load.  The first squirt hit the opposite wall, the next arced up and fell on the floor.  The next few dribbled over my fingers.  When he was done, I let go of the softening cock and if withdrew into the next stall.  I cleaned my hand of cum with some tissue, pulled up my pants and left the stall.  I washed my hands at the sink, looking at the stalls behind me, but the guy I just blew remained hidden.  I left the men’s room and went back to the table I left my stuff at, only this time I face toward the men’s room door to see who came out.  Three more guys went in and came out over the next twenty minutes but whoever it was I had blown, stayed in the men’s room until after I left the library.

I went back a few more times over the next few weeks and sometimes got the opportunity to suck on anonymous cock, although I never did figure out if the cock in the middle stall was the same one as on that first day, or it was just whomever was sitting there that day.

Since I had a lot of time to kill most days and didn’t always go home until well past midnight, I discovered quite a few places for a quickie other than the library’s men’s room.  I hooked up with some guys and ended up in their dorm room, often spending the night.  On more than one occasion these little “sleep-overs” involved me, my hook-up for the night and his roommate.  I could really get into those threesome nights, especially if they started out with the three of us getting stoned on beer and pot. 

There was this one time, it was just before Christmas; I remember because it was really cold, I snuck up to the roof of the dorm building with one of the guys I sometimes made out with and we had sex on the roof.  We were bare-ass naked and going at it like rabbits when it started to snow.  There we were, naked to all New York, getting snowed on.  They were these big, fat, wet snowflakes that melted as soon as they hit us.  It was such a turn on!  I sucked him dry and then fucked him raw.  When we were done, there was snow in our hair and we were as wet as if we had taken a shower, but we didn’t care.  We just picked up our wet clothes, went back to his room and fucked and sucked some more.

There were plenty of times like these.  Far too many to recount in this short space.  But suffice it to say that over the course of that freshman year, I learned more about cock then I did about anything else.