Chapter 8 Clowning Around
William was exasperated. “Matthew, dahling, my willie’s going to shrivel in this air conditioning! Let’s move this along, shall we?”
Matt blushed.
“Would it be safe to assume that you wish to top?” William asked.
Matt nodded shyly.
“Thought so,” William smiled. “Let’s find you the perfect bottom, then.
” Ever the performer, he slipped into salesman mode.
He stepped behind Todd and put his hands on Todd’s slender shoulders.
“Todd’s our youngest model, just a tad over nineteen.
Very low mileage. Loves to bottom, don’t you, Todd? ”
Todd nodded. He had a thick, almost curly mass of black hair. That and his piercing blue eyes gave him that boyish Elijah Woods look.
“Or,” William continued, “should you want to fuck ‘GI Joe,’ we have Josh. He’s twenty-one, versatile, and has been around the block enough times to give you a thrilling first ride, but not so much that his engine block needs to be rebored.”
Josh turned slightly, showing Matt both his front and back sides. He was the most classically handsome of the lot, a chestnut-haired All-American boy-next-door.
Matt listened to William’s pitch, eyeing Todd and Josh as they were presented, but also distracted by Jake and those blue high tops.
Todd, while beautiful and sweet, looked too innocent. Matt wasn’t interested in deflowering the village virgin. Josh, all muscles and hide, was a birddog of sorts, a loyal, friendly retriever. He would finish the job that a hunter began.
Jake was the real hunter in the room. Trim but not muscled, he had a feline sensuality, a tomcat’s strutty stance. He had that aloof, almost bored look cats feign while only their twitching tails betray their real intent.
And Jake’s tail was twitching.
William stepped towards Luke, but before he could begin his spiel, Luke interjected. “Give it up, William. We all know Jake’s going to win. It’s those damn shoes!”
Jake grinned. “They are my lucky shoes.”
William filled Matt in on the backstory. “Luke and Todd are our two newest members. Both chose Jake and his shoes. If you pick him, he’ll be the only person in GM history to win three times in a row.”
Matt played it coy. “I haven’t chosen anyone yet. Besides, where are the other two guys? There are only six of you here. I thought there were eight members.”
William waved a hand dismissively. “You’ll meet them soon enough. One is on security detail. The other is monitoring a situation on campus.”
“What situation?” Evan asked.
“Let’s not spoil Matthew’s initiation,” William said dismissively.
Evan was not deterred. “If something’s going on, we all need to know about it.”
“Fine,” William said. “For now, all you need to know is that Adam Maxwell is no longer a student at MCU. After Matthew chooses his bottom, the rest of us will decamp and regroup at the clubhouse, where I’ll answer as many questions as I can.”
Adam Maxwell. Matt didn’t recognize the name, but the others did, and they were upset at the news. Matt quickly learned that this Adam kid was one of the two other gay freshmen the group had identified. Josh had been his sponsor.
Something bad had obviously happened to Adam. Matt guessed it had been this news that had been troubling William when they met in the lobby earlier.
There was one less gay on campus, one less member of their tribe. Matt couldn’t help wondering which of them would be the last of the Mafioso Mohicans.
William spoke quietly. “You’re all familiar with what is written in the book of Ecclesiastes, that ‘there is a season for every activity under the heavens, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn, and a time to dance.’ This is not the time to mourn Adam’s departure.
Not yet. That time will come later, I promise you. ”
“This,” William said, mischievously, “is the ‘time to sow.’” He paused a moment to allow his wry joke to take root. “To do that, Matt needs to select his bottom!”
Everyone cheered.
And, of course, Matt chose Jake.
The rest of the guys dressed quickly, wished Matt and Jake good fuck, and left, intent on regrouping at the clubhouse, wherever that was.
William was the last to leave. He told Jake to be sure Matt was back on campus by curfew. He also said they would all meet Monday evening at the clubhouse for a watch party of sorts, to, hopefully, celebrate Matt’s having won his election.
Matt had momentarily forgotten about the election. He had made and hung a couple of posterboard signs. His teammates were eagerly campaigning for him, as was Seth his shower singing buddy.
Matt’s mind locked onto that word “clubhouse.” He hadn’t seen the place, but, judging by this hotel room, it wouldn’t be a dilapidated shack like the one Alfalfa, Spanky, and the gang used in The Little Rascals.
Any group that could afford to rent fancy hotel suites and had a fancy clubhouse was too rich for his blood.
The door had barely closed before Jake sprang a boner. “Shoes on or off?” he grinned.
“On,” Matt said. He had worried about the propriety of fucking so soon after hearing the news about Adam. He had worried the news might affect his libido. He had even worried whether he could be aroused by someone other than William.
Those worries proved baseless.
Jake was 5’9”, maybe 5’10”. He had shaggy brown and blonde streaked hair and a wicked alley cat smile. He was tan and lean, smooth from the waist up, with softly furred legs and ass.
They stood awkwardly, their dicks straining to make introductions but unable to close the distance on their own. Matt did not want to proceed under false pretenses.
“I think I’m in over my head,” Matt said.
“I thought this was just a group of poor college kids like me. I can’t afford to pony up my share of a room like this, much less help maintain a clubhouse.
” He felt gut punched. He had to wave goodbye both to his tribe and this hot guy he had almost been able to fuck.
Jake laughed. “If money were an issue, the only one of us who would be in this group would be William! His dad is loaded, and pours a ton of money into MCU. You want to know the real reason William gets away with being such a queen on campus? Daddy’s money buys a lot of blind eyes.
Don’t get me wrong. If William ever got caught even holding a guy’s hand, he’d get expelled lickety-split, rich daddy or not. ”
“So, William’s dad pays the GM’s bills?” Matt asked.
Jake shook his head. “No. Sorry. I was just explaining that William’s the only rich kid in our group. As far as this room and the clubhouse go, those costs are covered by our Alumni Association.”
“Alumni Association?” Matt did not even try to conceal his skepticism. “For the GM at MCU?” This seemed like a bad Saturday Night Live skit.
Jake shrugged. “Okay, so it isn’t a real association.
It is just four guys. Two were MCU GM. One of the others went to MCU for a couple of years, then transferred to OU.
The fourth was expelled from MCU for sucking cock.
But, yeah, there’s a fundraiser each October.
It’s a lot of fun and raises enough cash to keep us afloat. ”
Matt considered the facts—and the numbers.
MCU had been in existence for forty-five years, during which tens of thousands of kids had attended.
Statistically two percent of those had been gay and had first-hand, intimate experience with the Christian love and grace MCU extended to fags.
It was not outside the realm of possibility that four such gay kids—now adults—would donate a few hundred bucks a month to make other kids’ lives more bearable.
He felt relief washing over him. The fuck was back on!
Oddly, though, he wasn’t sure how to proceed.
Gone was Cocky Matt, who had confidently carried William to the back of the Jeep and made him lick his pits.
In his place was Cocky Matt’s shy doppelganger, Wallflower Matt, a guy who almost wished he had a towel to wrap around his naked torso.
He stood timidly, hoping Jake would make the first move.
Jake smiled reassuringly. “You must be thirsty after that long interview,” he said. He went to the mini fridge, retrieved a bottle of wine, and hunted for glasses. Matt ogled him the whole time, mesmerized by the play of light against the hairs on his ass cheeks.
Jake returned and handed Matt a glass. “To new friendships,” he said.
“To new friendships.” Matt sipped the yellowish wine. It was cold and crisp on his tongue. The only other alcohol he had ever tasted had been a Bud Light someone smuggled to a soccer team party.
Matt’s mind scribbled furiously, trying to write a script for this moment, but it was gibberish. How many times over the last five years had he imagined a scenario like this, played it out in his mind’s eye step by step, stroke by stroke until he spilled his ink into his hand?
Mercifully, Jake came to the rescue—again.
“Let’s just chat for a bit. Enjoy our wine.
” He reclaimed the wingchair he had occupied during the interview.
He draped one leg over the chair’s padded arm, his blue clad foot hanging lazily.
“Tell me about the first time you remember being attracted to a guy,” he said.
Matt sank into his previous hot seat. He had a full-on view of Jake’s loveliness.
“Is this more of the interview?” Matt asked, worried. Earlier, as Clown, Jake’s questions had focused on his sexuality. (Why the Dallas Cheerleaders poster? What had Matt done with girls?) Now this.
Jake laughed. “The interview’s over. I’m just making conversation. I’d like to know you better. That’s all.”
While Jake spoke, his draped leg swung hypnotically.
Matt’s gaze went from the swinging blue shoe to the brown, hairy, nest that framed Jake’s cock and trailed into his ass. These hairs were darker than those on the rest of his body. Matt ached to explore the valley between those cheeks.