0 comments/ 31076 views/ 3 favorites Hardly Working By: seanhrs I hadn't thought there was very much to running a movie projector until my housemate Kyle got a job at the local theater. He worked in a brand-new complex with 18 screens and stadium seating. The building wasn't even completed on opening day, and when the first rains of fall pattered on the unfinished roof, Kyle said he spent his time positioning buckets to catch all the water. I went with Kyle to work one day and sat with him in the projection booth, where we spied silent, flickering screens from behind soundproof glass. Each film arrived at the theater in about five or seven reels, and it was Kyle's job to piece those sections together into the solid, seamless movie that entertained the viewers. "How long does that usually take?" I asked. "A good projectionist can do it in about an hour and a half," he said, "but since I'm still learning, it takes me about two hours." With no sound, Kyle said he usually flicks on the theater's closed radio station that the ushers use to communicate. I heard it gargling out gibberish in the corner, but Kyle must have understood it. He sat up and scooted his chair over to the glass overlooking one of the theaters. "Check it out, Sean," he said, pointing. "That couple down there is making out." I could barely see anything in the dark, but I did see the faint silhouette of two figures locked together at their mouths. They seemed to be going at it, too, their shapes merging together and then separating as they came up for air. I wished I could hear them, or at least the people near them scoffing at their actions. "I wonder if they're good looking," Kyle said. Finally, two ushers arrived and basted the couple in pale, yellow streaks coming from their flashlights. Kyle and I were expecting two teenagers, maybe a cheerleader and her football player boyfriend wrapped in his letter jacket. But the light instead shined on two men in their early 20s, the same age as Kyle and me. One had short, tousled hair that curled in a mat upon his head, the other had a sharp crew cut, and both had their hands up each other's shirts. Kyle's first reaction was to laugh. "That's pretty hot," he said. I had shared similar moments of making out with Kyle back home, in each of our beds. We had gone a lot further, too, and the thought that Kyle might be turned on by these two young men our age kissing in the theater made my cock twitch. "The one on the right is cute, but I probably wouldn't fuck the one on the left," I said. Kyle laughed again, harder this time. He belted out an airy guffaw, which seemed to echo within the room. I tried to shush him, but he kept at it. "It's soundproof glass, they can't hear anything," he said, collecting himself. "And besides, you'd fuck any guy, anywhere, Sean." I was about to protest, but I nodded instead. "Maybe you're right," I said. "I'd fuck someone in a theater, if I could get away with it." "I bet you'd even fuck me right here, in this booth," he said. "Don't wish for something you don't want," I joked. He didn't answer right away. Instead he kept a soft smirk plastered across his face, his full lips glowing red in the dull light of the flickering film. His smooth face looked almost ghostly white in the gray shine from the screen, and his usually blue eyes shimmered cloudy silver, like an overcast sky. The light from the film caught his body along with his face. It highlighted the lean muscles rippling under his taut uniform. His red polo shirt dipped between his pectoral muscles and the short-sleeve cuffs cupped his biceps above elbow. My eyes followed the shirt between his shoulder blades down his back muscles to his waist where a belt cinched his torso into a V before allowing his lean ass to jut out and taper into strong thighs. His hand reached up and played with his short brown hair, twirling the straight strands with his fingers. I watched as the veins in his forearm pulsed with each contraction of his muscle. Suddenly, he turned to me. "Maybe I do wish for it," he said. I stood up from my chair and let him take a look at me. My t-shirt was a bit loose, covering my smooth chest and stomach. My jeans, however, squeezed my hips and held tight between my legs, outlining my hardening package. I stepped forward and pressed my lips down to Kyle's. He reached up and cupped my clean-shaven face with his hands. I closed my deep, blue eyes and let his other hand run through my dirty blond hair. My dick was straining against my fly, and I moaned slightly into Kyle's mouth. He took that a signal, and he let my tongue inside to explore his teeth and the insides of his cheeks. He returned the favor and gave me a taste of his warm tongue smearing the inside of my mouth. My hands felt his chest through his polo shirt. I sensed where his nipples poked out and I squeezed them before slowly trailing a finger across the ridges of his defined abs. I reached his belt and felt him suck in his stomach. We broke our kiss for a moment as I pulled open the buckle and unbuttoned his fly. "You're sure no one can hear or see us?" I asked. "Of course," Kyle said. "And even if they could, would you stop?" "No way." I bent down and we kissed again as my hand slid into his black slacks. My fingers brushed against the soft silk of his boxers. His cock was already hard and I traced its length from its tip pointing toward his navel to its base just above his heavy balls. I let my fingers tickle his shaft for a bit, his throat vibrating with a soft moan. Finally, we broke the kiss and he stood up. We removed our shirts at the same time. He tossed his on the chair and mine followed. I could see his clean, smooth chest punctuated by round, brown nipples. The only hair on his body other than on his head trailed down from his navel to a short, soft patch just visible above the waistline of his boxers. Kyle let his slacks fall to the floor, and I could see the tip of his dick poking out from the top of his underwear. The large head, coated with pre-cum, glistened in the light from the movie. He watched as I unbuckled my own belt and kicked off my jeans. My cock was pointing at an angle from the fly of my plaid boxer shorts. Its circumcised head aimed right at Kyle's mouth. Kyle's eyes took my in beginning with my feet and moving up my legs. He stopped at my chest, which was smooth and flat, clearly without the definition of Kyle's sculpted physique. "You're so sexy, Sean," Kyle said. "You're fucking hot," I said. Kyle stripped off his boxers and let his dick bounce free. It was slightly larger than mine, probably measuring in at just over six inches. His cock and balls were just as smooth as the rest of his body, and I swore my already hard dick got even harder when he rubbed his hand down his shaft. He nodded at me to take off mine, and I did, letting my boxer shorts land on the floor. Kyle instantly dropped to his knees, his mouth within inches of my dick. His hot breath poured over my cockhead, steaming onto the pre-cum seeping from my slit. His tongue flicked out and soaked it up, and Kyle moaned as he tasted me. "You have such a nice cock," he told me. "Then what are you waiting for?" I said. In answer, he took my dick into his mouth. He first sucked in the tip, his warm saliva smothering my cockhead. He kept leaning forward, gobbling up more and more of my shaft until his nose poked into my soft, light brown pubic hair. He pulled back until just the tip rested between his lips, and then he swallowed me whole again. I groaned each time he deep-throated me. His tongue swirled over my shaft, coating my entire dick with my own pre-cum and Kyle's saliva. He reached one hand up to my balls and rolled them together. The other crawled around to my ass were he ran his finger up and down my crack. Just as I felt his smooth finger put pressure on my sphincter, I stopped him. "Wait, stop," I said, pulling my cock out of his mouth. Kyle didn't let go of my balls. "What is it, Sean?" "I want to suck you, too." He smiled and tugged at my balls, telling me to get down on the floor. I sat down, my legs spread apart with Kyle kneeling before my cock. He shoved me back so I was laying face up, watching in the shadows dance on the ceiling. Kyle turned around so he could straddle my face. His cock poked at my lips, smearing them with his pre-cum. I felt his mouth again inhale my dick, so I took his into my mouth. His salty taste filled my mouth and his masculine scent filtered through my nostrils. I lifted my head up, deep-throating him and letting his balls bounce off my nose. I felt him moan on my cock, sending shivers through my body. One of my hands took hold of his smooth balls, tugging lightly on them as he thrust his hips toward my face. My other hand cupped his ass cheeks and my finger taunted his hole. He moaned even harder on my cock. He let me slide out of his mouth so he could gasp as I passed the tip of my finger into his hole. "That's it, Sean," he said. "Finger-fuck me." I pulled out my finger out and let my tongue coat it with saliva for lube. I shoved it hard into Kyle this time. He body shook for a moment and he almost cried out. "Yes, Sean," he panted. "Finger-fuck my ass." With my head bobbing on his cock, I dug my finger into his ass. After a few good thrusts, I added a second finger, and Kyle practically howled. He paused to give my dick a few sucks before calling out again as I added a third finger. His as stretched to accommodate my digits, and he was in ecstasy. I felt his cock throb in my mouth, so I began to suck harder. I let my tongue slip all over his cockhead and probe down to the base, where I could even taste some his fine pubic hair. To stifle his moans, he shoved my own dick into his mouth. I felt his throat vibrate around the tip of my cock as he tried to call out, and I could feel myself pulsing in his mouth. I began moaning onto his shaft, and suddenly he thrust his length deep into my mouth. His cock spasmed and I felt his warm seed flood my throat. I shoved my fingers deeper into his ass and I was rewarded with even more cum, some of it dribbling out of the corner of my mouth to collect on my chin. I couldn't take it anymore. I let loose in Kyle's mouth, my hot semen blasting against the roof of his mouth. He pulled his mouth off my tip and pumped out the rest of my cum onto his face. Wave after wave of jizz splashed onto his cheeks and lips. Some even landed in his hair. I made sure to suck him dry before letting him pop out of mouth. Kyle turned around and lay down next to me, his face and hair sticky with my cum. "That was amazing," I said. Kyle just smiled. "We're not done yet." He reached across the room and grabbed his pants. He pulled a condom out of one of the pockets and handed it to me. "I said I wanted you fuck me, didn't I?" Kyle said. I smiled back and tore open the wrapper as my dick began to re-inflate. He sat up and slipped the condom over my shaft for me. Kyle straddled my hips and let the tip of my cock poke at his stretched-out hole. He lowed himself onto my dick, and I felt his warmth grip my pole through the thin latex. He let out a sigh as I filled his asshole, his cock growing with each inch he sank onto me. "That's it, Sean," Kyle said. "It's time to go for a ride." He began to bounce on me, letting my length come almost entirely out of his ass before plunging back down on top of me. I reached forward and took his fully hard cock in my hand. I pumped his shaft as he rode my dick, both of us moaning and gasping. I felt his sweaty hands grip my chest as he rode me harder and faster. My hand rubbed his dick just as fast as I was fucking him. His moaning grew louder and I felt his ass cheeks clench together. I knew he was getting close. I gripped his cock harder and jerked him as fast I could. My hand flew from the base of his dick to the tip and back so fast that I only saw my fist as a blur. My balls tightened and finally, I shot into the condom, my second hot load heating up my cockhead as Kyle drove himself down onto my shaft. I continued to jerk Kyle off until his dick gave way and his boiling semen shot all over my chest, some of it running down my side to soak into the carpet. Kyle collapsed on top of my, smearing the cum into my torso. My dick stayed inside him for a while as we waited for the films to finish playing. "I thought you said work was boring," I said to Kyle. "It was," he said. "But that's why I decided to bring you along, so you could liven it up." "Anytime," I said, smiling. Hardly Working and Working Hard The term is coming to an end and I haven't done shit. As usual. I open my laptop, scurry in my password, and open a word document to start my final paper. Ugh, writing fucking sucks but I can at least write a heading to make myself feel better. Why can't I even figure out what I want to say?! I'll just check Facebook real quick: stupid selfie, silly selfie, fuck that guy –he's hasn't gotten any cooler since high school; "You won't believe these men weren't born men!" Major side-eye; when the fuck did I add you? Whatever, you cute. Shit. INSERT TITLE HERE. Cool, I wrote something – Facebook for 15 seconds. Yo, Eric is friends with Oliver? Damn, I didn't know that. Eric posted a photoset of him and Oliver and some other dudes in someone's room. It looks like they're flailing around and playing videogames. Their hair is flying everywhere, they're rolling around on the floor, and they're flipping their hair back in forth and running their fingers through each other's hair, like the girls in my high school did when they were bored or pulling their hair back. Ugh, drool. It got me then, and it gets me harder now. I love people with long hair. And I mean anyone. When it's down, I'm dead. I don't know what it is. I've never met Oliver in person but I see him around often enough. He's got dark hair he's been wearing in a ponytail though sometimes he wears it down when it's not too hot. Probably only an inch or two taller than me, his frame is much more rectangular. At least I think so, considering I can see my hips in a mirror even when I wear plain jeans. Sometimes, he catches me looking at him. He gives me this bashful side smirk and I go wide-eyed and tighten my lips in embarrassment. I don't know how he catches me every time. Fuck, uhhh where is the page number thing? Whatever. Save. I close my computer and slip on some sweats and grab my thermos so I can make some tea and take a break and brainstorm while I watch TV in the rec room. I walk in the kitchen and grab the electric kettle off the counter and put it in the sink. Waiting for the water to fill it up, I take out my phone and hear someone tapping away on their computer mumbling "which one do you think would be good?" All filled up, I put the lid on the kettle and put it back on its stand to boil. I reach for my phone to pretend like I'm doing something, when my name and a request demands my attention. "Hey Garrett, can you help us out real quick," Eric asks me. I turn around and look up noting, to my surprise, Oliver sitting next to him, and wander over to Eric's side. "Uh I don't know. What do you need?" I hesitate. I should've put a fucking shirt on! I'm usually don't give a shit about people seeing my scars but sometimes I wary about what they're thinking. At least the people who I think could matter. And I also didn't feel like showering this morning. Oliver's got on a plain black t-shirt with shiny blue gym shorts on. I note a bulge in his shorts which I've become accustomed to doing since, well, forever. I think flaccid penis has a nice shape in relaxed clothing with its soft curve. Oliver's got a soft curve in his biceps too. They don't look as if he works out all the time, but perhaps as a consequence of an occasional recreational sport or manual labor. His pecs protrude only slightly, probably as a result of the same activities. "Me and Oliver are doing our doing are final project for film on transpeople's experience in higher ed. We're looking for photos to use for our title background. Which one of these do you think would be good?" I scroll through the photos and these people look vaguely familiar but their all white. I accidentally scroll forward one too far. A multitude of colors flood the screen as men are frozen in motion during a fancy dance at some powwow. I think I recognize that face in the forefront and grin. At least someone in this room knows how to dance. "Uhh I'm not sure. Do y'all have people of color in your film at all?" I probe. "Nah, we haven't really started filming or anything yet." Eric glances at Oliver and they laugh over a mutual but mild anxiety. I smirk and chuckle and catch a peek at Oliver. "I feel you. Work on planning your film first and I'll help you out later. But, if you want you check out my Facebook for potential photos to use and just let me know which ones you're thinking about." Hearing the water boil, I tighten my butt and head to the kettle. "Thanks bro," replies Eric. "Yup." Swiftly putting my phone in my pocket, popping a tea bag in my thermos, and pouring my water, I climb the stairs to get my laptop to check my photos for ridiculousness while I watch my shows. Ass comfortably on the couch, TV on, I open my laptop and Facebook to a new friend request. Oliver. Shiiiieeeeeet. Pretending like I'm not online and therefore haven't seen the request yet, I scroll through my pictures making sure I look decent and reasonably silly. I'm a fool to think that at least 50% of my photos aren't of me acting like such but I can't delete the photos because my friends are too cute! "Garrett, accept Oliver's request so we can see your pics!" yells Eric upstairs. Fuck it. "I am! Calm down!" Accept. I distract my nerves and look for the page number button so I can add to my essay. I proceed to make a "works cited" page and save once again. I close my laptop and zone out to Adventure Time with my tea. After a few episodes, I finish my tea and mosey upstairs to my room. Tired, I remember how lonely I am and this term has been. I don't have anyone here who shares my experiences as an explicitly queer person and a person of color. I slip off my sweat pants and climb into bed thinking of the kinds of friends I wish I could've made. Honest, open, and comfortable with all of me. That way we can benefit one another on occasion so I don't have to scope out shitty grindr. --------------------------------------------------------------- A week goes by and we are one week closer to the end of summer. I read through Eric's film plan and okayed them to start so they could get their project done but haven't heard much from him since and nothing from Oliver. Making the last few edits to the second draft of my paper, I click print and type in my info to send the file to the school printing system. I throw on my shoes and walk to the library to get my paper so my friend can read it over. I hate the library at this time. EVERYONE is in there. I don't like being around that many people, even if they're like 100 feet away from me so I make my way to the printer that hides the a little corner next to the custodial closet on the lower level. I swipe my ID and select print on the monitor. Print. Print. PRINT. A red error message appears and requests me to resolve the jam in the paper tray. "Ugh" I grunt audibly and hear a short giggle in response. I look back and see Mr. Cutie shiny gray gym shorts smirking at me again. His ID in hand, maybe he likes to use this printer too? I smile in all of my awkwardness and as graciously as possible, bend over to open the tray and fix the jam. I shut the tray closed and out of my right ear, I hear a click and a squeak as if a door was opening. Suddenly, I'm pushed forward by a dense body, a hand grabs my waist at the right, and another hand lands on the print with a loud smack. Most notably, a thickening phallus pushes against my ass as I hear a soft grunt as Oliver's weight is pushed forward. "Sorry Sweetie, I didn't see you there," laments one of my favorite custodians Joanne, as she pulls her cleaning cart out of the closet and heads down the hallway. I can tell she has passed by listening to hear wheels roll down the hall but Oliver has yet to move. The printer starts up and my pages turn out when I feel his left hand move down to my waist to join his right in support. I feel his dick apply more pressure to my ass. And maybe sliding up my cheeks just a little? "Unh" I moan slightly, hopefully in audibly. Air whooshes past my waist as his hands move quickly to his pockets. I stand up and snap my papers out of the tray. I can't believe I did that out loud! I turn my head to see how his response. "Shit. My apologies." He says. His hands somewhere in front of him, his is face down and scrunched up in self-loathing. I've seen this face many times before after encounters with men who can get off on me but realize they don't really find my body anything to look at. I try not to show my displeasure and shame and stomp off up the stair case. I tell myself that I am worthy but I'm really starting to think otherwise. I hand my paper off to my friend upstairs and hold my tears as I walk back to my room. Exhausted I sleep until the next day. Walking towards my door to go pee, I see a paper has been slid under my door. It's my final essay "Gender Expressions: Reclaiming Masculinity and Two-Spirit Experiences". Amy finished editing already? Damn, she's awesome. I bring the paper with me to the bathroom and flip through the pages. There aren't a lot of marks so I go to the last page to see if there is a larger general comment. There, I find, a picture of me the first day I was allowed to go to the beach after surgery. I had a big smile on standing with my feet in the water surrounded by my friends who joined me in celebrating that day. Fairly certain that wasn't part of my essay. Below it reads: "I really liked your essay. We want to use this photo at the end of our film. You're beautiful here and we think it'll speak for itself and make our point. My apologies, again. -- Oliver" I can't help but smile. --------------------------------------------------------------- A few days later, I start to plan how I'm going to pack when I go home. I decided to make tea so I have an excuse to watch TV so I can drink it while it's still warm. Making my way into the kitchen, I see Oliver sitting at the table tapping away at his computer. Our eyes meet and hold for a few second before I remember I should smile so he's aware I'm not angry at him. He gives me a big smile back. What a gorgeous one it is. I turn away bashfully towards the sink and start to fill the kettle. As I pull the kettle out of the sink, some of the water slops out and drench my sweat pants. Fuck. Hmm...he did say I was beautiful, did he not? "Fuck." I exclaim audibly. I skillfully pull down my sweatpants. Gripping the back of the waist band with my thumbs, I slide it over my ass, let the pants fall to my ankles, and step out of them. I through them over the back of the chair in front of Oliver. Pretending like I completely don't care who's looking and like I don't even notice him looking, I flip my twists out of my face and turn around to walk back to the sink. Placing the kettle onto its stand, I reach back and snap the base right opening of my boxer briefs into place so he can hear how tight they are. Damn, I better look hot right now. Reaching up to grab my thermos out of the cupboard, I feel a warm breath on my neck. A tough hand with a soft touch grazes it's away across my hip trailing an arm behind it, wrapping its way around the base of my stomach. It pulls me into the body behind me, a familiar form finding its place into the cradle of my ass again. The other arm takes its place atop its opposite, and a chin rests on my left shoulder. We take a deep inhale together and stand there for a few moments. I'm thankful I took a shower this morning. I turn my head so my lips protrude towards his ear. "You're beautiful here, too." Did that work? Or am I saying corny things again? I see a smile grace his sleeps and am sure I said the right thing. Horny and eager to get warmed in this cold ass kitchen, I rotate my ass around his dick encouraging him to work with me. He exhales his hot breath onto the back of my neck pushed into me, his cock settling between my cheeks. Sliding up and down I can imagine his cock is a nice length and thickness. Boldly, I loosen his grip on my waist, and slide the waistband of my boxers so they rest just under the bottom of my ass. As my hand moves back up, I place my palm of his cock and gently rub its form over his shorts. It's already really hard, confirmed by his increased breathing and low moan in response. Bending notably over the sink, I stick my ass out against his cock and pull his shorts so he falls into me. I moan hoping he gets my message. Turning my head around, I look into his eyes and plead with him. As his arms release from my waist, I take his right hand in mine. With his left hand he pulls his shorts and underwear down to his ankles. What a site that cock is: clearly ready to go and hugged by a trimmed soft mound. I push my ass back into it bending my knees to massage his dick as it slid up and down my crack, with the assistance of his dripping pre cum and my wetness. He lets go of my hand and when I turn out to show he my sadness, I see his head slip into his shirt and his hands pull the front of his shirt around to the back of his neck so his entire torso is exposed the shirt visibly taught at its new location but his arms still remain in the arm holes. His chest and stomach glisten with sweat. He has a nice treasure trail from a few inches above his belly button to his equally glistening cock. Oliver grabs my hand again eagerly. He places it against his face and looks into my eyes. I nod. "Ungh...yes," I moan as the head of his dick enters my dripping pussy. He pushes further in taking his sweet time. Finally, I feel his soft balls shield my dick and feel every inch of his length inside me. Slowly, he explores me with his cock. Out and in again. I let go of his hand to support my weight as my knees grow weaker each time his balls slap against my cock. The water is just as hot as we are at this point and is boiling, so I turn off the kettle. I feel his grip on my waist tighten. Oliver begins to thrust harder moaning and sighing his pleasures. My insides swell and burn and my chest drips sweat. I feel Oliver sweat fall from his face and land on his back as he moves his sweet cock with me. His cock feels so good I catch drool sliding out of the corner of my mouth and I have to keep swallowing to contain it all. Oliver is grunting harder now. They resonate throughout his body which each thrusts into my pussy and I can feel them settle into my own chest. I know he's close to coming. I grab by dick between my thumb and index finger and stroke it sloppily ask he slams his cock into me. "Have you finished you shit yet?" I hear from not too far away. Shit. "Yeah, you?" Another person responds. I can't move even if they are coming. I need his dick here and now. I know he has heard them too and he fucks me vigorously. I withhold every moan hoping these intruders stay back just a little longer but I'm sure our flesh making music together already gives away our activities. Sharply, Oliver thrusts are bodies together and hold my ass tight up against his crotch, intensely gripping my waist. I've already come at least three times with this magnificent piece of art sharing its work with me and I can see he has arrived as his head is thrown back and his face reflecting the peak of pleasure he's feel throughout his body. "I'm going to get a snack real quick. I'll meet you in your room." One of the previous voices announces. Oliver sweeps his t-shirt back over his head and pulls up his pants and my boxers along with them. I push him towards his laptop. "Hey Garrett. You sure love tea don't you?" Eric remarks entering the kitchen and opening the snack cupboard. I simply chuckle. "Are you sick? You're really sweaty." I flicker a look over to Oliver and his wipes his face with the bottom of his t-shirt. "Nah. I just finished a heavy workout and was going to shower after I made this tea." I answer honestly. "Oh, okay. You spill water on your pants again? Ha, you clumsy fucker. Nice undies." He retorts. "Thank you Eric, you're so sweet" I scoff at him as he settles on a cup of ramen to eat. I pop a tea bag into my cup and follow it with water before I hand it off to Eric. "Hey Oliver, how's the project coming?" Eric probes. I take some time to add milk and sugar to my tea and test it out. "Great. I was just working on it really hard before you got here." Oliver replies as honest as he can. "Sweet. Thanks bro." Eric responds turning towards his noodles. As Eric pours the water into his cup, I quickly glide over to Oliver. Placing a hand on his thigh to steady myself, I give him a kiss on his cheek and make my way to the door. * * * I hope you've enjoyed this. The other stories on here are quite good but it's harder to see myself in them. Let me know if you want more.