Adventures of Urlen - Chapter 9

"That's great" he exclaimed and I wished he was saying it admiringly of my cock. However, he was not. I'd met him at the lunch-time cafeteria service. We were in the queue together with our trays and we sat down and received talking - as students do. It was the 1-st term of the 3-rd year of my University course; I was vice Captain of my College rugby team and careful to set an example of good behaviour on - and off - the pitch. "Q" had been sent down after doing next to no work at the time of his only full year; Thierry and Vic had gone same well as I - after the excitements of camping in France at the time of the summer vacation - had started a relationship with a girl buddie. It did not last long! I discovered when I went to bed with her that she had more experience than I did and that I came so rapidly that it left her unsatisfied.

"Is that it?" she pronounced tartly after the 1-st time and the 2-nd and 3-rd were no better. I simply couldn't control my come - something I might have done much better with my hand. Indeed I came to feel that sex between men and ladies was over-rated and when she dropped me for a buddie of mine I was quietly relieved. Nevertheless I was decided to go "straight" for a while and even gave up wanking for a bit. That resolution lasted all of a week - and the other determination not much longer!

Anyways, he was reading English and I found him very attractive. He was tall in gangling sort of way, with a lazy smile and a look of easy confidence. He was forthright and frank in speech and we soon discovered that we felt "sympa" about each other, as the french say. We also discovered that we played squash same well as as the University had six squash courts just round the corner from my digs, we headed after finishing our lunch to make a booking. There was a court free the following afternoon so we booked it. I nearly forgot to ask his name before we left and he pronounced it was Tom.

Next afternoon we met for our game and found we were well matched. He was athletic and moved around the court with speed. It was a close encounter which he simply won. We were very hot after the game and went for a shower, standing next to each other under adjacent showers and soaping the sweat off our bodies. I might see that he was well hung, his balls were bigger than mine and his uncut cock looked as if it would swell up to a good size when it was stiff. He had a line of black hair running down his chest, over his smooth stomach and on to the black bush round his cock and balls. He was a wonderfully manly sight and he did not seem to be modest or conscious of his nakedness : he simply stood there for all of the world to see. However he was probably more conscious than I thought, or possibly he saw me eyeing him since he pronounced "I see you are like me. Being uncut is better , do not you think?" I did and pronounced so. He smiled and we rinsed the soap off our bodies, dried off and changed into our clothes. "May I offer you a beer in my digs?" I pronounced as we emerged from the sports complex; "it is only just round the corner." "Sure" he pronounced.

On the way back to my room we talked about our University courses and I kept thinking about what I had seen in the shower. One day we were settled in my room, beer in hand, I thought of an incident I had witnessed not long before in the shower room we had just left. I was changing into my squash clothes and my opponent was late. Shower room was open and two guys were in there taking a shower on their own. Like Tom and me they had stood next to each other, yet unlike us they were soaping each other, taking it in turns to rub each other's back. While one would do this, the other presented his back to his buddie and they were side-on to the door thru which I was looking. They were quite unconscious of me and I might see that both had stiff pricks, sticking out at 90 degrees from their bodies. One day they turned round so that the other man might do the soaping they did not seem to notice that each was massively excited till the soaping was finished, when they turned inwards towards each other. Immediately their hands reached for each other's cock and I suppose the soap on their hands made them come rapidly since I heard a kind of grunt and one of them bent at the knees and shot a wad onto the floor of the shower. As he did so the other came also, though I was so busy watching the 1-st guy that I did not realise till afterwards that he had done so. I knew, however, since they came into the dressing room, wrapping their towels round their waists when they saw me, yet I had already seen a thin thread of spunk hanging from the end of the 2-nd guy's deflating cock.

So, I told this story to my new buddie, Tom and it was when I had finished relating it that he pronounced "That's great! Reminds me" he pronounced "of a foolish story I heard in the English Faculty several weeks back. Some students were set the task of inventing a phrase of just four unforgettable and strange words and one of them came up with 'marsupial procrastination with masturbatory intent.' That's good, do not you think?"

I did! I knew what procrastination was but was not sure what "marsupial" had to do with it . So I was very sure of "masturbatory intent" and wouldn't minded getting off there and then. I suspect that Tom felt the same, since I might see that at the time of my story of the two guys in the shower he placed his hand over a growing bulge in his panties and kept it there while I took in the meaning of his four word combination. "You've masturbatory intent?" I pronounced, fired by the idea he was getting at. "You?" he pronounced, with an arch smile. "Yes!" we both pronounced as we jumped from our chairs and moved towards my bed in the corner of the room. "Not much procrastination here" he pronounced as we stripped to our underpants.

We lay on the bed together and explored each other's body. It was not long before we pulled our panties down and our dicks sprang out like steel springs. His was not same long as mine but it was wonderfully stout and stiff. Both of us had straight dicks, without the "helmet" effect of a fat cockhead with a flaring rim standing out from the shaft. He had a long foreskin which I peeled back but I found it wouldn't fall into place behind the rim as mine did and I discovered he liked to wank himself off by slowly easing the loose foreskin up and down over his glans. One day he found that I made up pre-come he pronounced some men, like him, did not. I enjoyed the feel of his hand on my dick so much that I knew I was will shoot my load quite rapidly, so he gave it a squeeze just under the head and the precipice receded a little. "Just a little more procrastination" he pronounced "and if you want to know why it is marsupial, just think of the pouch I am making round your cock with my hand."

I giggled and he brought me slowly up to fever pitch, squeezed again, stroked again and then, when he might see that I was about to come, he quickened his movement and all my limbs jerked as I shot my load onto my stomach and all over his pumping fingers. "so good" I pronounced, "I haven't had a wank for a week." "And that's why you came off so rapidly" he pronounced. "You need to slow down a bit or do it more often". I did not see how it might have been much better, even if I had, yet I was obviously in the hands of an professional. "Let me show you how I do it" he pronounced. And he took his cock in his right hand and pumped it slowly, gently covering and uncovering the engorged glans. It was a great looking cock and he worked on it slowly, head thrown back and eyes closed while I watched in fascination. Soon his breathing became more laboured and his hand movements faster. Then his balls moved up towards the base of his rod. Then he groaned "I am gonna come" and as his cock swelled to its bursting point he stopped on the downward stroke for a moment, holding his foreskin so that the dickhead was exposed. Then, with his hand stationary, he shot a jet of white cream nearly vertically into the air. Then he stroked again rapidly, stopping again on the down stroke to let one more jet spurt out, nearly as big and then a 3-rd, a 4-th and a 5-th so that five pools of come lay glistening on his stomach. He finished off by slowly wanking his shaft and sliding his fingers over his slippery cockhead as his magnificent tool gradually lost its rigidity.

"That really is great" I pronounced in admiration as his spasms died down and he returned to earth. "And I haven't had a good wank for a week either" he pronounced, "So I was full of masturbatory intent."

We giggled same well as after we had cleaned up and he had gone, I realised that I knew nothing more about him than his name. He might keep his "marsupial procrastination" so far as I was concerned, yet his masturbatory intent were superb!