Message-ID: <36765asstr$1023847804@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <20020611223721.27740.qmail@web21307.mail.yahoo.com> From: Ashley Creek MIME-Version: 1.0 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 11 Jun 2002 15:37:21 -0700 (PDT) Subject: {ASSM} Pair of Reeboks and a Steelers Cap {Will "Crash" Reuther} (M exhib, MF rom no-sex, coll) Date: Tue, 11 Jun 2002 22:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: newsman, gill-bates A Pair of Reeboks and a Steelers Cap (M exhib, MF rom no-sex, coll) by Will "Crash" Reuther Ashley42Creek@yahoo.com If you see a bunch of guys running about the campus, naked, during the night, you may presume they had to get themselves drunk enough to work up the courage to go through with the dare. But if you see ONE guy--alone--naked, on campus, during the night, it's a fair bet he's despressed and needs to get drunk enough to snap himself out of it. That was what happened to me. Sometimes in a young man's life, there will occur an evening when the situation and the circumstances in which he finds himself produce nothing but despair and desperation. That I hadn't gotten laid the previous weekend goes without saying. But the young woman who had been my date for the Foot Ball--the weekend of the Affton game--had not even shown the slightest sign of any interest in progressing toward any such degree of intimacy within the forseeable future. Consequently, I never wanted to see her again. Fortunately, although we had been in two classes together during the second semester of our sophomore year, she had chosen a different lodge during Symposium, and I hadn't even been certain she had returned for junior year until I had consulted the student directory, before calling her to ask her to the dance. Quite frankly, I had no idea where my next KISS was coming from. Every meaningful element in my life belonged either to the past or to the future. All that existed in the present moment were the mundane necessities of campus life: eating, sleeping, studying, and going to classes--and none of that amounted to more than surviving the here and now, in blind preparation for an unfathomable future. It was a surprisingly warm night for so late in the fall, and my walk from the library back to my dormitory had been leisurely. Had there been anything immediate to which I could look forward, it would have been a pleasant evening; had there been a girl with whom to share the experience, I probably would have proposed marriage to her, right on the spot. But everything about THAT evening reminded me only of how alone I was. Even before dinner, late that afternoon, a mixed group of my lodge brothers and sisters had been playing "strip horse" on the back patio. (Rather than spelling out the five-letter word whenever they missed a shot at the lone basket mounted on a pole at the far end of the patio, they kept score by discarding an article of clothing.) A couple of guys had already shed their trousers and were playing in flapping shirttails (for Roper Lodge was conservative enough that tee-shirts were banned at dinnertime), and one of them was down to his boxer shorts and undershirt, while one of the girls was playing in her jeans and bra and another was already bare-breasted. When the dinner bell rang, though, they ended their game and their exhibition, quickly got dressed, and moved inside, laughing in intimate camaraderie, to the dining room. And now, as I passed the comparatively secluded, outdoor basketball courts behind the gymnasium, I observed a dozen guys (probably from Highland Lodge) playing "shirts vs. skins" basketball--the "hard" way: that is, the one team wore only their tee-shirts, while the other wore only their bare skins. A small claque of girls--presumably from St. Audrey's College for Women rather than from our own student body--were watching the exhibition and giddily cheering the boys on. I guessed that the winning team would get to take the girls back to the dorm, for there weren't nearly enough of them to go around! As a final blow, once I got to my dormitory suite, my roommate's tie was hanging on the doorknob of our bedroom, and none of the other guys had any idea whether his girlfriend was planning on staying the night! I was pissed! I could only think of three ways to keep from going off the deep end: getting drunk; getting laid; or getting some other form of hard exercise. My eyes fell on my running shoes and cap, lying forlornly--just as forlornly as I felt, myself--in my cubbyhole of the massive bookcase that screened the bedroom doors from the main part of our living room. The nearest cold beer was at the lodge; the only girl nearby that I knew of was already getting laid, as far as I could tell; and the only exercise that made any sense was a good, long run. The obstacle presented by the fact that my running outfit, save for the shoes and cap, was inaccessible behind the closed door of my bedroom, suddenly vanished from my perceptions in a veritable puff of smoke. I stripped. I slammed my books into my cubbyhole and took off every last thing I was wearing, stuffing all of it into the cubbyhole with my books. Nude, I crammed the cap onto my head, picked up the running shoes, and walked around the end of the bookcase to the nearest chair, where I sat to lace up the shoes. Phil and Mike exchanged glances but said nothing until I headed for the door. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Phil asked, as I reached for the doorknob. I turned and fixed my eyes on his. "Not that makes one fucking bit of difference!" I snarled. And I opened the door and left the suite. The slight chill in the late evening air, pleasant with my clothing on, now was exhilarating. I understood, in a blinding flash of revelation, how both sets of basketball exhibitionists had felt, doffing their clothing in pursuit of exercise and more than one sort of stimulation. I did not pay any attention to whether anyone was about as I left the dormitory and jogged out of the quadrangle toward the practice fields. If anyone saw me--and noticed my state of exposure--they said nothing to me. By the time I got to the practice fields, my level of exertion was fairly well balanced with the temperature, and I don't think I even recalled that I was naked. There was no one about at the practice fields that late at night, and even if someone had been looking out any of the windows of the Garden Quad, they could not have been certain, at that distance and in the dark, that I wasn't properly attired. I felt comfortable with my solitude as I did several laps about the fields--enough to amount to at least two miles, I suppose--until my need for exercise had been assuaged and my need for beer took over. I headed for the Circle. Most of my route was on campus, passing east of the lower campus dormitories, around the old prep school site, and through the academic quadrangle. At that time of night, those precincts were typically deserted, yet still I took no notice of whether I encountered anyone or not. I did have to cross Thomas Street, of course, and I was vaguely aware of some light traffic there, but the occupants of those cars must simply have been too stunned at seeing a naked student dash across the street, to have reacted in time for me to notice. Jogging around the Circle to my lodge, I did meet a number of seniors and fellow classmates from other lodges, of course, but we exchanged only the usual polite nods and waves of recognition. The presence of naked students of either gender was far from unheard of on the Circle, though such occasions were usually after closing hours of the Saturday night parties. I gained the front entrance of Roper Lodge, mounted the steps, and strolled in just as usual. The building is never closed while the college is in session. I saw some fellow members in both the parlor and the lounge, but I headed directly for the stairs to the basement and found my way to the bar without delay, drawing a beer from the tap and settling myself on the first stool, ready to make a night of it, notwithstanding what was already a late start. Several of my friends walked by, from time to time, and spoke to me, but made no overt sign of noticing anything unusual. None of them repeated Phil's inquiry, but a couple of them did ask whether I was all right. My reply in each instance was that I would work it out, and I would turn to face them directly, lift my mug in toast, and tacitly dare them to say one single word about my lack of clothing. I had already drawn a second beer when Janet walked into the room. She was a junior, too, so we had signed in together last spring, had run around the lodge all night in our underwear (along with all the rest of our section, that is) in fulfillment of the initiation rites that predate coeducation, and had proven our ability to get plastered without dying of humiliation. (In contrast to the practice at a number of the other lodges, Roper, as one of the first to admit women to its membership roles, no longer required its sophomore sections to get completely naked, and there were usually relatively few volunteers.) I smiled at Janet and raised my mug in a symbolic toast to her, and after she had drawn a brew of her own, she sat down next to me. No one else was sitting at the bar, and she could have had any other seat in the room. But she chose to sit down next to the naked guy. "Studying getting you down?" she asked. "Among other things." "Me too." Except she wasn't down far enough to have taken all her clothes off. Of course, it's a different matter for women. I understood that. "Here's to studying!" We clicked our mugs and took deep sips. "Professor Keller's a bitch!" "Bastard?" I offered an amendment. "No. I think he's a bitch!" "Could be." I took another gulp. "You in Psych?" "Naw! PoliSci!" "So who's got you down?" "Who doesn't?" "You want to talk about it, or do you want to be left alone?" I turned my head to look directly at her. "I don't want you to leave. I'm not sure I want to talk about it much, either, though." "Okay. What do you want to talk about?" I set my mug down and turned the rest of my body to face her. "You don't mind talking to the naked guy?" She shrugged. "I've seen naked guys before." "Yeah," I chuckled. "You can't get away from it around here, can you." "Do you run around naked often?" "My first time, actually," I smiled. "I'm surprised I had it in me." "You must REALLY have been feeling down!" "I suppose so. The thing is, now that I've had a couple, I'm starting to have second thoughts about it. I'm not relishing getting back to my dormitory, now, at all! You want another?" I had drained my mug and was ready for a third draft, but she was only a little more than halfway through hers. She looked at the level of liquid in her mug, looked at me, and calmly threw back the rest of it, gulping it down without stopping. "Yeah, thanks!" I took her mug, refilled both, and slid my stool even closer to hers as I resumed my seat. She didn't flinch or try to back off from me, though now I was close enough that she could have reached right out and grabbed my cock. I looked her over again. She had nice hair (just the kind I like), a good shape under her sweater, no visible pins or rings to indicate a committed relationship, and still a very nice smile on her face. "Are you living in the lodge or the dorms?" I asked her. "Dorm," she indicated, "just like you." "Maybe not tonight," I shrugged, taking another sip. "Unless this beer and the next one or two get me past it, I'm not feeling like going back outside, in this condition." "You made it here all right, didn't you? What's the difference?" "The difference is, I'm starting to realize what I did." "You're not having any trouble, sitting here and talking to me." "You're being very nice about it. Would you care to marry me?" She leaned over and gently kissed my cheek, and I blushed, for the first time that evening (as far as I know). "It's a little early for me to make that decision." As she sipped her beer, I thought I noticed her blush, too. "Am I scaring you?" "Not yet." "At least, you know I have nothing to hide." I spread my arms, as if that revealed any significant portion of my body that she hadn't already noticed. Then I remembered that I was wearing my cap and shoes. I reached up and lifted the cap. "Oh, yes! There! You see? I must warn you, though, that there's a lot of baldness among my ancestors, so by the time our children are our age, I probably won't be looking quite this handsome any more!" She laughed pleasantly--more than pleasantly. "If you want to inspect my feet," I added, stretching them out, one on either side of her barstool, so that, in fact, I was emphasizing my crotch more than my feet, "just let me know." I took another pull on my beer, while I was in that position, waiting for her response. "I think I get the picture." "Are you scared yet?" "Nope!" "Then would you like to go out with me this weekend?" "That's a more reasonable proposition." "Well, I didn't mean it as a proposition, exactly. I AM planning on wearing clothing, for example, assuming I can find a way to get back to my dorm without dying of mortification." "That would be good. I don't guess I'd absolutely insist on it, but I suppose you would make a better impression on me if I saw you WITH clothing, once, too, before I made up my mind about you." "Agreed! Is it a date?" "It's a date." I leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. She held the kiss longer than I had any right to expect, to the point that it occurred to me that I couldn't know whether I was becoming aroused--for my cock was hanging out where it wasn't pressing against anything, and thus I could not feel what it was doing. I couldn't stop the kiss, though, so I gently put an arm on her back, and she put her hand on my bare shoulder, and I pretty well knew, that instant, that I would marry her, one day. The kiss didn't really last all that long, I suppose, but when she ended it, I couldn't do anything but look straight into her eyes for at least a full minute. Then I blushed again and had to look down, discovering, fortunately, that my cock was still behaving itself, even though it was its first time out in public. Janet looked down, too. "I AM interested," I protested, "but I'm not taking anything for granted." "Then, you don't figure that any girl who would accept a date with a naked guy is easy?" "You don't look easy." "I'm not." "But you accepted a date with a naked guy." "That's not why you're naked." "How can you be sure?" "I'm pretty sure." "You're betting on me, then?" "I guess so." "Fair warning, then! I think I've already fallen in love with you." "I know." "Still not scared?" "Still not scared." I finished the third beer and held the empty mug up with a questioning look at her. She shook her head, and I went off to draw my fourth. "I am," I declared, on my return. "What are you?" "Scared." "Of me?" I thought for a minute. "Maybe a little, but that's not what I had in mind." "So, what?" "Scared of having to get back to the dorm like this, like I said." "What's the big deal? It got you a date." I laughed and had to kiss her again. We ended up with our heads still very close together, and, to keep her balance, she had to put her hand on MY bar stool, right next to my naked butt. We each took another few sips of our beers, felt each other's breathing, and kissed again. "Now you're interested," she mentioned, quite calmly. Her eyes fluttered downward and returned to mine. I leaned back, took a quick look down at my crotch, and saw that I was hard. "Sorry about that," I muttered. "It's not something to be sorry about," she insisted. "You're still not scared?" "A girl likes to know she's appreciated." "A girl doesn't like to think she might be raped." "Are you planning on raping me?" "No! No! But I'm not sure it's safe for you to kiss me again." She answered by pulling me back toward her and kissing me again. "I wasn't presuming anything," I pledged earnestly, "but if you want me tonight, just say the word." "I AM testing you." "How am I doing?" "Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" "Yes. I WANT to. I just don't think that's likely to happen." "Would you lose interest in me if it did happen?" "Not at all!" "So, what should we do?" "I'm on my fourth beer; that's your second. Let's leave it up to you. It's probably safer that way." "Would that disappoint you?" "We've still got a date for the weekend, don't we?" "Yep." "No matter what?" "Well, . . ." "I mean, . . ." "I know what you mean." "Look. I'm not worried about you. I'm just worried about getting back to my dormitory. I'll warn you, though, if you marry me, I'll be walking around in front of you like this a lot, and I'll want a summer house where our kids can run around naked for a week at a time and I can make love to you on the front lawn at high noon, and the day I don't want to make love to you will be the day you'll have to bury me." She gulped visibly. "That's an interesting offer." "Right now, though, I just want to go out with you this weekend and find out whether you're still interested in me after you've seen me with my clothes on." "You don't think you're being a little presumptuous?" I looked at my drink. I had just noticed, finally, how much it was hitting me. "I think I'm being a little bit drunk." "Drunk enough, yet, to make your way back to the dorm?" That still seemed to be a problem. "Shit! I don't think so." "You want me to help you?" I looked at her, not certain what she meant. "I'll walk you back to your room, if you want," she offered. "Would that help?" The prospect of having her on my arm seemed much more of a good thing than the fact that I would still be naked. "You willing to give it a try?" "Sure." "What if I throw up on the way?" "Just hit the grass--and not me--and our date's still on." I took a last chug, but still left the mug half full. "Okay then! Let s go!" I was a bit unsteady on my feet as I got down off the bar stool, and I decided a quick stop in the john would be prudent, but she was still waiting for me as I came out the door, having used the facility (for the first time outside my home, a locker room, or a dormitory, I suppose) without zipping up afterward. She took my hand and we went upstairs. A few eyebrows were raised that I was leaving naked with her, but she grabbed her jacket from the cloak room, and we left as if nothing were out of the ordinary. She was about to zip up her jacket when she realized that the chivalry of liberation demanded that, in these most unusual circumstances, she really should offer it to me. "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized. "Do you want to wear this?" "Naw," I declined. "If I'm going to do this at all, let's go all the way. I don't think that's long enough to cover anything that matters, anyway." "It might keep you warmer." "I'll survive." She zipped up her jacket, we slipped our arms around each other, and we started along the Circle. It was after midnight by now, and we got across Thomas Street without being directly in any cars' headlights and through Galloway Arch and into the academic quad without mishap. "Oh," I exclaimed, remembering that I didn't know whether my room was still occupied. "What?" she asked. "I just remembered what the last straw was. My roommate was holed up with his girlfriend. I don't even know whether I'm sleeping on the sofa tonight." She didn't say anything more, and I was plotzed enough that I didn't notice until she guided me into an entry in a different dormitory, that we hadn't been heading toward my room, after all. This was HER dormitory. I went up to the door of her suite with her but hesitated there. "Hey, you didn't bargain on taking me home," I whispered, drawing her into a good-night kiss outside her door. "You need a real bed tonight, not a sofa." "I don't want to put you out." "Let me decide whether I'm being put out. I want you in good condition for our date this weekend." "No, no, no. I'll say good-night now and leave you alone. I'll see you at lunch tomorrow. And don't worry, I'm not missing that date for anything!" At that moment, the door to the suite opened, and one of her roommates emerged in a robe, heading downstairs for the bathroom. She looked me up and down, from head to toe, and shook her head. My nudity was obvious enough, although my body was pressed against Janet's, so that my privates weren't in view at that particular moment. During the momentary distraction, though, Janet caught the door and managed to pull me into the suite. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Yahoo! - Official partner of 2002 FIFA World Cup http://fifaworldcup.yahoo.com ------- ASSM Moderation System Notice-------- This post has been reformatted by the ASSM Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+