In 1964, I was 17 and a freshman at Illinois Institute of Technology. I was not doing particularly well in my studies even though I had graduated top of my class from a technical high school in Chicago. As I remember, I had three major problems: 1) I was a commuter student. One and one half hours on the bus and "L" (rapid transit) each way, from home to school. Classes from 900 to 1800 left little time to study or sleep. 2) Chicago's college preparatory high schools (an all boys high school at that!) left me ill prepared to handle the mathematical rigors needed in engineering school.3) Last and probably foremost was my obsession with sex. When my brain was on sex the amount of learning that went on was near absolute zero. Oh sure, I had lots of sexual experiences, but still a virgin where it mattered, at least to me. I dated to no avail. My girlfriend that I fell madly in love with over six months, upon graduation, left for a western college, never to be seen again. I fondled women and girls on the bus and train, they must have known musn't they(?), still no luck, I tried to pick up a hooker, with no car, I was almost laughed off the street. Yeah, at 16 I had gotten so obsessed one night that I had sex with 4 guys, and after that, even tried to earn a few extra bucks selling myself. What a disaster! Whenever, sex took over it seemed like I lost all control. I was like a addict when it came to sex; once turned on I couldn't resist. I was attracted to girls and women, I wasn't attracted to men. However, it seemed guys were attracted to me. I think my tall, thin frame and feminine facial features were somehow responsible for that. Guys grabbed my ass at some of my summer jobs, or sometimes made verbal overtures about getting together. No thanks, I wasn't interested, I wanted pussy! Boy did I ever! I'd spend hours at the arcades and adult book stores on South Wabash, getting my dose of porn. Women sucking, women fucking. I was going out of my mind.
I left the "HUB", a low modern building, housing the cafeteria, auditorium, and general social areas. This is where students congregated when not in class. An avant garde art show had just been hung on the walls and one piece in particular was causing quite a stir. At least, it did for me. The title was called "Blow Job" and it was a black and white painting, probably 8 foot on a side, depicting film negatives that showed the details of female lips and tongue sucking and licking a penis. The strips were horizontal, overlapping and at angles. Each frame depicting another movement, like seeing a movie frame by frame. I couldn't take my eyes of it. Trying to separate and segregate each frame in my minds eye. My erection became obvious, tenting my loose fitting slacks. I used my arm to push it up. Better to have a lump than a tent. It started to become obvious I was spending too much time standing there looking at one picture, so I regrettably forced myself to leave. The work was later removed due to too many complaints.
It was cold outside and I was glad to get into the library. It was always warm, almost too warm. The library was my refuge. Quiet! No distractions. I could get my work done, catch a few z's, and fantasize without interruption. I remember the bathrooms were clean and the dividers, red. People would write little notes on the wall and sometimes just the words or crude drawings would turn me on so much that I had to masterbate right there. The building itself was a modern raised single floor, designed by Walter Netsch, I believe, in a very Miesian style. Mies Van der Rohe had designed several of the buildings on the campus and the master plan for IIT facilities. On the south end was the IIT student library, the north end was the John D. Carrar(can't remember the exact spelling) business supported technology library. That was my favorite as it was less populated and I usually wouldn't run into anyone I knew there. The center of the libary was adminstrative offices and the circulation desk. Gray windows encirlced the entire building. You could see out but during the day they appeared black from outside. Along the windows were the individual chairs and desks for patrons. My special spot was the last desk against the west wall. Behind that desk was the wall of the adminstrative offices, to the left the windows, to the right, rows of shelving for periodicals. Tall black units crammed with reference material that it seemed nobody cared about. At the end of the book stacks, probably 30 feet east of my desk was an aisle leading to doors for the adminstrative offices. Along the other side of the aisle a wood wall. You weren't supposed to sleep in the library but if you stayed out of sight nobody really bothered you and this desk was the most secluded in the library. I put my Samsonite briefcase on the desk, took off my dark green courdouroy coat, and collapsed into the chair. There were only two people on my side of the library. One about 7 seats from mine and one completely at the other end. Stretching my legs out, I rubbed my prick head through my slacks with my thumb thinking of the "Blow Job". Why wasn't that me in the painting? How come I couldn't get any pussy? I mean I wasn't bad looking, tall, blondish brown hair, small boned frame, sort of cute face. Was I wierd or something, was I not aggressive enough. Was I too aggresive? I saw girls throwing themselves at guys who looked and acted like shit. What was I doing wrong? I couldn't get that mouth out of my mind, sucking, licking. I leaned forward, putting my arms on top of the briefcase and my head resting on them. I needed to calm down, I needed to rest, I dozed off slightly.
I felt the tap on my right shoulder. I jumped, sitting up. Was someone objecting to my sleeping? I was groggy. The person tapping me was an Oriental guy in a yellow sweater and jeans. He was probably Chinese, and I remember his face was rather dour and ashen looking.He was about 5' 5", and quite thin. He put a folded up paper in front of me on the desk. I looked at it but had no idea what it said. It just looked like some numbers. I looked up at him, and shrugged my shoulders, handing it back to him. I assumed he couldn't speak english. He just stood there like he had asked me a question and was waiting for the answer. I shook my head and shrugged again. He took as step closer. My gaze dropped from his face and I could tell he had an erection straining against the tight jeans. I quickly looked down, my hand grasping the edge of the desk. I was shaking slightly. I knew I shouldn't but..., he now moved from somewhat behind me to next to me. I was now looking right at his penis outlined in his jeans, what was I doing? My right hand left the desk edge like I had no control over it. I slowly reached for his cock, I could only stare at my hand now grasping his jeans feeling the shaft within. It was warm and firm, I squeezed gently, rubbing its entire length. I kept asking myself, "what are you doing?", but I couldn't stop. My fingers grasped the zipper tab and slowly pulled it down, the fly parted, exposing his cock inch by inch. I wrapped my long thin fingers around the shaft and freed it from its containment. I stroked slowly up and down its length feeling the warmth, and smoothness. My thumb slowly rubbed the thickess of its glans. I watched my hand stroking, rubbing, his cock getting more engorged with blood, responding to me. He reached over and unlatched my briefcase opening it so that it provided a barrier to anyone in front of us. I held onto him, I couldn't let go. It was at least 6.5 inches of hot, hard, smooth, beautiful cut cock. I wanted to be the painting, both penis and lips. My head moved forward, my lips pressed against the end. He moved toward me,pushing his legs against the desk, closing the gap between my briefcase lid and his body. My lips parted slightly, I felt his cock slipping against my lips, from the silkiness of the shaft, up to the thick rim of its head. I couldn't believe I was doing this, but I wanted it, needed it. My tongue rotated around the slick head of his cock, licking the crease from the rim to the slit, up and down. Then lowering my head I moved my lips up and down the shaft making exquisite love to this phallus. I couldn't get enough. He reached down and lowered his cock so that it was sticking straight out at me. I looked up into his eyes and he nodded as my lips parted and his cock head slipped into my mouth. My tongue kept encircling his knob, a small amount of precum oozed from the slit and my tongue was there to clean it from him, tasting him. I thought about what I was doing, could someone see us, what would happen if we got caught? I still couldn't stop. I slid him deeper into my mouth sucking hard. He moaned. My lips were sliding from the tip to almost the base of his cock while I sucked it like an all-day sucker. Saliva was making him wet and keeping me swallowing almost continually. His hips started to rock back and forth and I could feel the tension in him building. My left hand was holding his dick with two fingers, keeping it in line with my mouth, the other was squeezing his left ass cheek, pulling him into me.
"Yeessss!", His hands grabbed the top of my head and held me down on him as he pumped cock deep into my mouth, spasm after spasm of hot cum shot into my mouth. I could taste the saltiness, the alkalinity, I could smell his cum and I loved it, I couldn't get enough. The first two spasms and hot cum and his cock filled my mouth. I swallowed, both! My lips were now pressed against his zipper. My throat closed tightly around the head. Spurt,spurt, spurt. I could feel him throbbing against the inside of my mouth and my tongue. Thick wads of cum splashed against the back of my throat. Trying to swallow and breath caused my throat to contract, pulling at the knob lodged there, milking it. I was getting out of breath. I slowly backed off, sucking and licking every last juice off that beautiful shaft. He looked down at me as I licked the remaining cum from my lips.
He took my coat off the back of the chair and handed it to me to put on and had me stand between the book racks. He went down on his knees and parted the coat as if somehow that was going to keep people from seeing what was happening. He started kissing my crotch, rubbing his face into me. I felt disgusted, my erection melted. He unzipped my slacks and pulled my flacid penis from my underwear and slacks. I looked up, the door to the office opened and a girl walked down the aisle. What if she looked over here? What if she saw us and reported it? She didn't, but I was scared shitless. He was now stroking my non-erect penis.
"Why so smarr?" he sounded so disappointed I was small. He started to kiss and wipe my cock across his face. Yuck, just suck the damn thing, I thought.
"Scared", I whispered, "what if some one sees us?" I started to pull away but he quickly sucked me into his mouth grabbing my ass cheeks with both hands and pulling me toward him. "aaahhh..ohhhh....just suck it", was all I could muster.
"MMMMMmmmmm", he sucked for only a few seconds, and I could feel my body start to shudder. I was cumming and I wasn't even erect yet. I pulled back and the cum shot out hitting him in the face and squirting onto his sweater. I was embarrassed. He leaned forward again sucking me into his mouth until the orgasm subsided, swallowing all I had to give.
"It's on your sweater", I said feebly, trying to get the cum off his sweater, with my fingers. He grabbed my fingers and licked them clean. I wanted to go, had to get out of there, I couldn't stand it, I felt humiliated. What had I done?
I stuffed my penis in my slacks and zipped up, I grabbed my briefcase and headed down the next aisle over. I was moving as fast as my legs could walk. I didn't even see a guy standing in the aisle until I almost bumped into him. "Hi", he said as he turned toward me. He was a big, older guy in a top coat and suit and he was holding his cock. Then it dawned on me, he was jacking off watching us. Brother, what was the world cumming to?