It was one of those warm spring nights just before freshman midterms, when you've studied until your brain is mush and you feel like the walls are going to close in and smother you if you don't get out for a while. Through the window of my small dorm room I could hear the voices of other students in the courtyard below. It was a night for movies, for dates or for just hanging out-not for studying.

But I stuck with the books. Chemistry formulas and equations danced meaninglessly before my eyes, and I silently cursed myself. All my other grades were solid "A"s, but this organic chem course was killing me!

"Don't worry. You'll do fine on the test." Neal Thompson, my study buddy, laid a hand on my shoulder as he pushed his chair back from my desk, stood up and stretched. The springs creaked noisily as he fell back on my twin bed and folded his hands behind his head. "Professor Sweeney's tough in class, and he pushes his students hard-especially the freshmen-but his tests aren't so bad. You'll do great."

I turned in my chair and looked at him, unconvinced. I hoped he was right, but I was nervous. The strangely relaxed grin on his face only made me more anxious.

When I applied to the department head for a study buddy, I hadn't anticipated anybody quite like Neal. He was no geeky grad student. Neal had a real talent for breaking down difficult concepts and problems, and his enthusiasm was almost contagious. Even the most boring details became exciting when he was sitting beside me explaining them.

Yet he disturbed me too. He had an energy that made me feel… I don't know… strange. When his leg would brush mine under the desk, or when he'd lay that hand on my shoulder (as he did regularly), a jolt of electricity would shoot through me. My mouth would get dry, and I'd lose my ability to concentrate.

I didn't understand those feelings, and their implications gnawed at me. As I looked at Neal's athletic, trim body stretched out on my bed, with my white pillow framing his dark-haired head and perfect face, I felt suddenly half-sick with fear. He lay there so casually, unaffected and relaxed, but my whole body was knotting up and I couldn't do anything to stop it.

My face started to flush and I quickly turned back to the books before Neal noticed. When the bedsprings creaked again, I pretended not to hear them. His strong hands settled on my shoulders, and he squeezed my neck a couple of times.

"Call it a night, Joel," he said. "Trust me: You're only gonna psych yourself out if you don't take a break."

I turned a page and bent over it. "I will in a while," I answered. "I'm only gonna skim this next chapter. You go on, though. And thanks, Neal. You've really been a big help."

His hands lingered for an agonizing moment as his fingers worked on my neck. Then he gathered his own books.

"Catch you later, guy," he said. The door opened, closed, and he was gone.

I banged my head on my open textbook. What was happening to me?

Near midnight, several hours after Neal left, I gave up and slammed the chemistry book shut. The temperature was stifling in my dorm room. I opened a window, but it didn't get any cooler.

Shucking off my jeans, I pulled on a pair of cutoffs and a fresh T-shirt, then headed for my car. I really did need a break. But what was there to do on a Tuesday night? It was too late for a movie. The local bars didn't interest me because I didn't drink. And, as in most other college towns, the other businesses closed at sundown.

The moon floated on the horizon. It was big, almost full and gold-colored. The air was humid-as it so often is on Midwestern nights-so I rolled down the window as I pulled out of the parking lot.

I itched allover and couldn't have explained why if my life depended on it.

The streets were nearly empty. When the campus was far behind I stopped at a convenience store and picked up a soda, then drove some more.

Past the outskirts of town, I slowed as I cruised by the entrance to Waterworks Park. I'd heard stories about the park. I knew that during the evening a lot of students took their girlfriends up there to make out. Later at night, though, other things were said to go on there.

Past the entrance to the park, a steep hill led into darkness. There weren't any streetlights along the road, and it had a vaguely menacing look. I drove by, sipping my drink, feeling strange and lonely.

After about a quarter of a mile, I turned around and drove toward the entrance again. The itching was worse than ever and I was sweating – even with the wind blowing over my face through the open window.

I passed the entrance again, and again I turned around soon afterward. I realized I was trying to get up my courage – but for what? All those stories I'd heard about the cock-sucking and worse that went on in that park had nothing to do with me. I wasn't like that.

Yet my cock was half-stiff in my shorts, and the hand that held my soda bottle was shaking. I wasn't sure at that moment what I was doing, what I wanted, or why I finally turned and went up that dark, steep road.

The park was on a plateau overlooking the town's water treatment plant. An ugly plant by day, it was all lit up at night and glittered in the darkness like a collection of jewels. I cruised slowly from one end of the park to the other, vaguely disappointed to find the place empty. There were no parked cars, no necking students.

It seemed like all those stories were probably just stories.

I suddenly felt relieved… and safe.

There was a playground barely visible in the moonlight. I parked near it and got out. I looked around uneasily, but reassured myself that I was completely alone.

The grass was damp as I walked to the swing set. With my back to the car, I could look across the plateau, past the cliff-like edge to where the town lights glimmered. I began to relax at last. Settling down on one of the swings, I began to drift back and forth. The chains creaked as the breeze blew softly against my ears. It all made a kind of soothing music, and I totally forgot about my troublesome chemistry class and midterms – and even my confusion over Neal.

I don't know how long I'd been sitting there before I became aware that I wasn't alone anymore. Not far to the right of the swings was one of those little metal merry-go-rounds. Just beyond that stood a copse of trees. From the corner of my eye I saw a figure move at the edge of the shadows among the old tree trunks.

Someone was watching me. I swallowed and stopped swinging. The hair on my neck stirred.

The park was pretty dark. Other than the moon, there was no real light of any kind. I could barely make the figure out, yet I was sure he was watching me. Maybe the stories were true after all.

I thought about leaving… but I stayed. My cock stiffened with a will of its own. I'd never been in this park at night, and had certainly never done any of the stuff that I'd heard went on up here. I knew I should leave, but it was as if my brain had been turned off by the lure of something new and forbidden. I felt scared again – but not scared enough.

I got off the swing and walked over to the merry-go-round. I gave it a little push and hopped on, grabbing one of the hand holds. The world spun around slowly, and each time I came to a certain point I glanced the stranger's way. I tried not to be too obvious, and pretended that I hadn't seen him.

But he knew I'd seen him. He stood over there under a tree, and in the dim light I could see he was massaging his cock through his jeans. The merry-go-round slowed to a halt, and I stood on the edge of it, still grasping the handhold. Tentatively I touched my own cock. It was rock hard and straining at the buttons of my cutoffs. I didn't know what else to do. I had no idea what the protocol was for this sort of thing.

I thought I saw him beckon. I hesitated at first, then stepped off the merry-go-round. I made my way slowly toward the trees, but in a roundabout way so he wouldn't know for certain that I was answering his summons.

It was darker still when I was in the grove. The leafy branches bowed right down to the ground in places, blocking out the moonlight and forming little private niches. There was a hard knot in my gut. What was I doing here?

A low voice whispered behind me, "What are you looking for?"

I turned toward the sound of the stranger's voice. I could barely see him as he stood against another tree. He was no more than an outline, a shadow under the leaves. His right hand continued to rub his crotch.

I stammered like a kid, scared and embarrassed. "I-I don't know."

His voice was husky and quiet. "I bet your dick knows," he said. "Come here and let me suck it. You like having your dick sucked?"

I couldn't answer. But my cock practically grabbed me by the balls and dragged me toward him. Whether I wanted to go or not, my cock certainly did.

He backed into the concealing shelter of a low limb, and I followed. He sank to his knees almost immediately. His hands expertly popped open the buttons of my shorts, and they slithered down around my ankles. My cock jutted upward.

"Nice," he whispered, closing one strong hand around it. He pumped it twice, then pulled it toward his mouth.

He didn't play with my dick or tease me. He opened his mouth and took me in. His lips locked on the fat head and he seemed to inhale me, sliding right down to my pubic hair in one smooth motion.

I gasped at the wet heat, at the erotic fire that leaped down to my balls and up into my belly. He didn't lick my dick or kiss it – he sucked it with power and dedication, like a man who knew what he was doing and enjoyed doing it.

While he sucked me, his right hand kneaded my ass. His fingers dug deep into my butt muscles as he drove my cock into his mouth harder and deeper. With his left hand, he twisted and tugged my nuts. That stoked a fire I'd never known before. My knees felt rubbery, and more than once I thought I'd fall. But I kicked off my shorts and spread my legs wider, giving him more room to work. I felt the lava in my balls burning hotter and churning, threatening to erupt.

Suddenly he stood up and spun me around. His arms encircled me. With one hand he gripped my wet cock and continued to pump it. With the other he massaged my chest. His lips touched the soft side of my neck, then he gently pulled my head back to kiss me. The contact was electrifying. I still couldn't see him clearly, so I didn't know that he'd slipped out of his jeans. I felt his huge meat press against the small of my back, though, and his balls pressing into the crack of my ass.

"I wanna fuck you," he whispered. All I could do was breathe heavily as I felt his hand tight around my cock and his breath hot on my neck. He bent me forward a little and ground his cock in my crack. I let out a moan, which encouraged him.

While his right hand continued to stroke me ever closer to my own climax, his left hand moved away from my chest. I heard a soft ripping sound, and turned my head enough to see the small packet that he tore open with his teeth. He rolled the condom onto his cock, and I groaned again. I could feel with every touch of his body what he wanted, so I bent forward a bit, presenting my ass to him as the excitement surged through me. His cock head rubbed against my anus. I shivered.

"Spread your legs," he said, and I complied.

He hunched forward, and the head of his cock pushed past my sphincter with an explosion of fire. I cried out. Stupidly afraid that someone would hear us, I stifled the sound as best I could, giving an animal growl instead. I reached back and dug my fingers into his ass as I said, "Oh, God! Easy!"

"Easy."

Not "Stop!"

Not "Get the hell away from me!"

Just "Easy."

I knew then – for better or worse: I was in this and didn't really want out.

His arms locked about me tightly and, bending his knees, he drew me almost upright against him. He speared his cock into me slowly but with determined sureness in one long, smooth thrust that ignited every nerve in my body.

"Oh, yeah," he groaned in my ear as he buried his entire length in me and held it there. "Oh, yeah. You've got one terrific, tight ass!"

I gave a loud gasp and shot my wad all over his hand and the ground before me in one long, quaking orgasm. My whole body shook and shivered, and my asshole spasmed like crazy around the huge pole this stranger had planted securely in my guts.

He chuckled and muttered, "Oh, yeah," again. His hands slid up to my shoulders, then squeezed and massaged my neck, setting off a sense of awareness within me.

The solid darkness had hidden the guy's face, and I hadn't recognized his voice through his hoarse whispers and guttural comments. But by the familiar touch of those hands on my tense shoulders, I knew him: It was Neal!

But did he know it was me? I experienced a totally new terror. I liked Neal. Hell, I wanted him like crazy. I hadn't been able to admit that before, but I knew it now. It was incredible that if this had to happen, and I knew it would have happened sooner or later – it was happening with him. But what would he think of me when it was over?

Neal began to fuck me in earnest. He bent me forward once more, and his hands gripped my waist. His cock slid back out of my hole, and it seemed like forever before the head of it popped out of my ass. It was an incredible relief, and yet I felt an equally incredible sense of desperation. I wanted it – all of it – back inside me!

I didn't have to wait long. Without warning, he drove his cock back up my hole and I nearly screamed. He slammed into me, driving that spike deep inside my ass again and again. I felt his hands grab at my T-shirt and rip it open, exposing my back and shoulders to his hands. He grunted and groaned as he rode me, becoming noisier. A part of me feared that we might be heard; another part didn't care. I just didn't want him to stop.

I rocked back against him and spread my legs even more, opening my hole for him. I couldn't make myself speak, couldn't say words like "Fuck me" or even echo his "Oh, yeahs." But I told him as best I could with my body how much I loved what he was doing to me and wanted what he was giving me!

My cock got hard again and I began jerking off in tempo with the dick racing up my ass. I was determined to bring myself off again.

Neal let out a harsh roar, and suddenly his cock seemed to double in size in my ass as he bucked into me like a madman. I had to brace myself against a tree to maintain my balance.

"Take it, Joel!" he hissed. "Take it all. Take my come up your hot ass!"

My name! He'd said my name! Of course he'd known it was me. While the trees had hidden him, I'd been in the moonlight on that swing and the merry-go-round.

I matched his roar. The jerking and twitching of his shooting cock – which I could feel even through the condom – triggered my own ejaculation. It shot out of me more fiercely than any orgasm I'd ever experienced before. I gasped and felt my knees start to buckle, but his strong arms tightened around me and held me up.

I tried to speak. "Neal…”

His mouth brushed against my ear. "Shhh. Just enjoy it."

We stood quivering against each other for a few moments while his cock wilted slowly, then slipped out of me. I pulled off the ruins of my T-shirt and started to clean myself off, but his hands settled on my shoulders again. He turned me around.

His face came down on mine and his tongue eased between my lips. He kissed me long and hard; after a moment's hesitation, I kissed him back.

"See," he said when the kiss ended. "I told you you needed to take a break."

"How'd you know?" I whispered. "About me, I mean, and what I needed?"

He grinned as he hugged me. "It was just a feeling. I was sure you wanted me as much as I wanted you, even though you weren't."

I kissed him again. "You know, some things just combine well together," I said. "Maybe it was a matter of chemistry."

He held me tightly and whispered in my ear, "Maybe it was, at that."