Sunday, June 21, 2020

Two poems



suddenly! grabbed by nostalgia!

when i was in college,
i lived in the dorm, and
it hurt real bad falling
in love with my roommate, a straight
guy who was on the swimteam, and
was who was very very sexy.
and it was all kinda complicated.
for instance, back then i hadn't
really admitted to myself
that i was gay. in fact, back then,
i pretty much thought i was straight.
i didn't think i was in love with him.
i just thought i liked him a lot.
i didn't think i wanted to suck on the
big purple-pink perfectly-shaped cockhead of his
big smooth athlete cock and have him squirt
his hot gooey cum directly into my mouth.
i just thought i
liked him a lot. and, in fact, he
liked me a lot. in fact everything
he did in regards to me
was utterly warm and totally friendly--
and because he was so nice and fun
to be around and on top of that a real-live
honest-to-gosh actual hunky
athlete, i found myself in the position of
being liked by, and liking,
a really sexy nice warm
friendly athletic young man. in short,
he was precisely the
man of my dreams.  though of course i would
never have phrased it that way then. we did
all kinds of stuff together:
tennis, swimming, backpacking,
eating dinner together every night.
eating breakfast together every
morning. we showered together a
lot, actually. we showered together
in the big gymnasium showerroom after
we worked out in the gym. and often we
showered together there in the big
dorm showerroom that was down
the hall from our room--just because we liked to
talk while we showered. sometimes, to be honest,
we took 2 or 3 showers every day, depending
on what kinds of activities had immediately preceded.
tennis, for instance: after we played
tennis together, we always
required a shower, and we
took it together. or after going out for a run together,
we required a shower, and we
took it together. hot sweaty college boys,
always getting oily and sweaty and needing
to wash it all off,
that was us!
and we liked to clown around in the
shower, too; for instance, by cupping his
hands just so, he could squirt a stream of ice
cold water 10 feet with perfect
accuracy onto my dick when i was
shampooing my hair and my eyes
were closed.  we could talk about
anything.  oh yes, i was
in love with him all right.
no doubt about that now. he was
kinda the center of my whole entire life
there for a while.
we lived together in the dorm, and after
that, we lived together in an apartment,
and after that, we lived together in
a great big double-wide trailer
on top of a hill with a view of
the mountains & other trailers.
there in our trailer, sometimes
he stood naked in the bathroom & talked
with me while waiting for me to get out of
the shower. we didn't actually
shower together in the little bathtub in
either the apartment or in the trailer.
i remember it was kind of an adjustment,
actually, when
we first moved out of the dorm and into an apartment,
having just a regular bathroom
with a regular bathtub and a regular shower.
we had grown used to big showerrooms with
lots of showerheads to choose from and lots
of room to move around. but
it seems we accommodated to the situation of
having just a normal bathroom by talking naked
in that bathroom a lot, actually. it sounds
kinda gay now, i know, but mainly i thought
it was just because he was so gregarious he
liked company all the time--and he liked
my company a lot, which was nice, and yet
torture because of course even though i
was still trying to be straight, i
thought he was real darn sexy and i loved
him. the sight of him naked standing in
the bathtub nearly took my breath away.
he dated lots of girls. and sometimes
he did sexy stuff with them. i know.
sometimes i could hear them in
the next room.  i dated girls, too.
but i didn't do the sexy stuff as
much as he did. i know that for a fact.
standing there in our bathroom in our
trailer, me drying off naked, and him
naked getting in a few more comments before
jumping into the shower himself,
it's difficult to fathom that
i really truly didn't know that what i wanted most
was to be touching him every place on his
gorgeous sexy swimteam athlete
body that my fingers would reach, with
special emphasis on his big smooth dick and
his great-looking tight little ass.
later, after college, we stayed
in touch for a while. but then
when i finally figured out i
was gay and started seeing
another guy--this one gay, thank
goodness!--and told my sexy athlete former
roommate that i was gay and seeing
somebody, well things just
kinda fell apart between us. no
big scene, really. he sent
me an envelope full of christian
propaganda--i think that
was something he'd found
after we graduated. he was
sure never the christian-go-to-
church type of guy while we were roommates.
anyhow, after that envelope, that was
pretty much the end of it. we never
saw each other again.  but here i am
now, thinking about him, for whatever
reason.  i guess it's just true: sometimes
nostalgia really DOES just sneak up and grab ya! and
i can picture him now quite vividly:
he was a sexy guy that
i loved, would probably have
had sex with if the opportunity
had ever happened, and who
disappeared from my life. his smile
was infectious. his sense
of humor was fantastic. he was
smart. he was an athlete. he was
just totally, totally HOT.
for a while there,
he made me feel really really good,
and yet it's also undeniable that he
made me ache in ways
that approximated pure and painful
torture. that cock. those lips.
that wet pink tongue. those tiny little
swimmer nipples.  i wonder if actually they
were all as off-limits to me
then as i was sure they were at the
time... i wonder...
anyhow.
that was my college roommate.
and that's who i fell in love with,
all those years ago.

--Carl Miller Daniels (2004)

=================================



college roommate

the sight of him walking around in just his underpants
was thunder. the sight of him drying off naked
in the shower was lightning. he had a great body, a wonderful
face, a fantastic cock.

sometimes i
wonder how he turned out. i suspect he married, had 3 kids, maybe
more,
he would be a great father, he was patient and kind and
willing to listen and willing to entertain.
sometimes when i drive past a trailer park, and see an old
double-wide sixty-footer, i think
of him, and me, during our last two years of college,
living in our own place that was just
like that.

i think right up until the absolute last possible minute,
we perplexed each other. him not quite straight,
and me not quite gay. but it felt sexual. everything about it.
and nothing about it. then graduation happened,
a tidy little chopping block as we subtracted each other
from our lives.

now, thinking back, visualizing him walking around in
just his underpants, heading for the shower, the smell of steam
emerging
from behind the curtain, often he kept right on talking to me
from the shower, continuing
our conversation as he stood in the tub behind the plastic curtain,
and
me standing just inside the bathroom door, the
hot water would be running over him,
him talking & me talking, then
he'd shut off the water and fling open the curtain, drying off, still
talking to me, there's a smile on his face, a glint in his eyes, his
naked
body is beautiful, beautiful... our conversation is animated and
loud,
it's young and brilliant, and quite
possibly ridiculous --

and when
i look back through all the years and i see us like that,
well,
i feel odd and old and foolish and
incredibly sad.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem was published in the online zine Dirty Dishes in September 2001.)

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