I transferred to the University of Victoria after completing my first-year courses in an associated rural university college. I had done my courses mostly at nights, spending my days with a logging company and stashing away my earnings for university. It had been a hard two years for me, but now I was in heaven!

For the first time in my life I was living out from under my parent's roof and control: I was nineteen; I was in a big city - well, by my standards, anyway; and I had the most terrific roomie a guy could ever want.

The University's accommodations system had hooked me and Jerry up as roomies, and even gave us the right of approval first. They sent us both letters introducing us to each other, with our first names, some pertinent facts, and our telephone numbers. The letter explained that after we had talked, either of us could reject the other as roomie, and that would be that.

It didn't happen, though. Jerry and I hit it off within a couple of minutes of talking to each other on the phone.

And when we finally met, a couple of days before fall classes began, we clicked even more. We were very much alike in many ways. We were both tall, toned, and dark-haired, and both were athletic. I was into soccer, while Jerry was a swimmer. In fact, he earned his spending money as a life-guard/coach at the University pool.

We were both into hockey, also, not so much as players, however, although both of us would lace up for occasional pick-up games; we were both huge fans of the Vancouver Canucks. Just as well, or there might have been fights over which channel to watch on our dorm room TV.

We also both became fans of the UVic hockey team, the Vikes, and quite often worked out with the team members in the fitness room and at the pool.

Unlike me, this was not Jerry's first year at UVic. He was from a town in the North Island, and had come to the university the previous year, after a couple of years in the work-force, not straight out of high-school. That was handy, because he got to show me the ropes.

In no time at all we were doing everything together. We ate together; we took a couple of classes together; we studied together; we went to the student union pub together; we even double-dated a couple of girls who had hit on us at a Vikes hockey game.

The double-dating didn't go far, though. We took them out three or four times, then sort of forgot about them. Jerry wasn't really interested in his girl. He said she has too shy for his tastes, whatever that meant. And me … well, I'm gay, although I hadn't told anyone at that time.

And so we resorted more and more to each other's company, and spent a lot of that at the McKinnon building, the home of the gym, the fitness and weight room, the squash courts, and the pool.

One thing we didn't do together was sleep together. I mean. we slept in the same room and all, but we didn't sleep together, if you know what I mean. There was not the slightest indication that Jerry might be gay, or might have any sexual interest in me at all. And I wasn't about to risk my friendship and my perfect roomie to find out.

Unfortunately for me, I fell in love with Jerry, and had a perpetual case of blue-balls, or lover's nuts, if you prefer to call them that. I tried to relieve the pain by jerking off as often as I could - in the shower, on the can, under the covers at night when I thought Jerry was asleep. It didn't help much.

Jerry didn't seem to have the same problem. He breezed through life as if he didn't have a care in the world. He seemed to live for his studies, food, his swimming, food, and taking things as they came. He didn't seem to be interested in girls, but he didn't seem to be interested in boys, either. He didn't seem to be very interested in sex at all. Oh, yes, like guys do, we talked about sex quite a bit, but I don't think he was getting any - apart from maybe sex with Mr. Palmer and his five little friends, but I never even caught him doing that. I was the one who was constantly masturbating.

As the first term dragged on, my infatuation with Jerry grew and grew. It didn't matter that he didn't reciprocate. It was enough that he was there, sharing a room with me, and close to me most of the time.

It was nearing the end of the term when I finally got the nerve to make some sort of move, but every time I got up enough courage to tell him I loved him, something intervened and the moment was gone.

Eventually, one Saturday morning we both woke up very early, at 5:30 to be exact - Jerry because he had to open up the pool and get it ready for the 7:00am early bird swim; me because his alarm woke me.

"Hey," Jerry said when he saw my eyes were open, "you wannna come to the pool with me and get in an early swim? We'll have the pool to ourselves for the first hour."

I always jumped at any chance to spend quality time with him, especially alone with him, so I tumbled out of bed, pulled on my Speedos and covered them with my track suit, slipped on some runners, grabbed a power bar to munch on, and we were both out the door by 5:45.

At the deserted indoor pool, I helped Jerry do the sort of things that pool attendants do, like checking the filters and the ph levels and things like that which I don't really understand, but it didn't take long and we made use of the remaining time to do a few lazy laps.

"Wanna go skinny?" Jerry asked, as we stood at the pool's edge at the shallow end. "No-one else will be here for at least half an hour."

"Sure," I agreed, and we both slipped off our Speedos and dropped them onto the tiles around the pool.

"Race you to the other end and back." he challenged.

"Sure," I agreed, and dived in, surfacing in a rapid crawl, getting a healthy start on him. It didn't help, though. He had passed me before we got to the far end and was already heading back as I was coming in to make my turn. When I returned to the shallow end, he was standing in the shallows, waiting for me, laughing like mad.

"OK, OK," I joked, "So swimming's not my forté!"

We were standing close together in the clear water, brushing against each other. I could see his penis waving slowly up and down and around in the depths. Jerry brushed against me even closer as he turned to say something to me. I couldn't resist any longer. I leaned forward and kissed him on the wet lips with my wet lips. He pulled away for a moment after an initial responding. Immediately, I thought I had gone too far, that the ultimate rejection would come now.

But it did not. Instead, he thrust his mouth forward to find mine once more, searching out my lips and kissing me more passionately than I had kissed him. At the same time, I felt his groin pressed against me under the water, his cock pushing into my side. It was hard!

Beneath the water, my own cock was growing, and then I felt his hand grasp me. We kissed even harder as my cock leapt into life. My whole being was on fire. Jerry cared for me, too! He pushed me back against the pool's edge, still fondling my cock.

And then a voice behind me, on the tiles:

"Hey! What are you two guys up to?" It wasn't really asking, because what we were doing was obvious to anyone with half a brain, but it wasn't shocked, or accusatory, either.

It was Jerry's swim coach, Tom.

But Jerry's reaction was immediate. He pushed me away, as if I were some foul thing.

"What do you think you're doing!" he exclaimed. ""You better be just joking around!" he threatened. "I'm not gay. I don't go in for any of that fag stuff," he insisted adamantly.

""Yeah, sure," I answered. "It was just a joke, that's all. Of course you're not gay. Neither am I," I asserted, but I'm sure I didn't sound convincing.

I don't think I convinced anyone, especially not Tom, as I pulled myself a out of the pool, still sporting the remains of a woody, and gathered my Speedos and pulled then on. Jerry got out of the pool and put his on, too.

"Guess I'll see you at home, later," I said, totally deflated.

"Yeah, I guess so," Jerry said, noncommittally, and turn away and entered into a discussion with his coach. I slipped on my track suit and runners from the bench where I had discarded them earlier, and slunk off, humiliated.

I dragged myself to the refectory for a miserable breakfast, having trouble swallowing, my tears as well as my food. My stomach was churning, and a couple of times I thought I would throw up.

All the time, I berated myself. I had been happy - sort of. I had risked it all on a kiss. And now I was rejected. What had Jerry called the kiss? "That fag stuff!"

I dragged myself back to the dorm and to our room where I had been happy - but that was all over now.

I stripped of my Speedos and track suit and pulled on fresh undies.I tried to study, but it was useless. I just couldn't concentrate. I would have to move out, I knew. I could not share a room with Jerry, thinking I was a fag … and yet … he had responded. He had held my cock, not the other way round. Did that mean anything?

It was going on 10 am. when the door opened and Jerry came in. He didn't say anything to me and he went into the bedroom, leaving the door open. I watched from my study desk as he stripped, pulled on some clean undies, and sprawled on his bed.

Nothing was said between us.

I stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorpost, not daring to look directly at him.

Eventually, I got up the courage to speak.

"It's just a week till the end of term, " I said. "I'll move out durning the break. I'm sure you can get another roomie easily enough." Jerry didn't respond.

He lay back on the bed, propped up on his elbows, regarding me, but said nothing.

"I've got a soccer game in fifteen minutes, " I said. "I'd better get going. We can talk about this later."

He still said nothing, just watched me as I got ready for the game, shedding my undies and pulling on a jockstrap and my soccer pants, shirt, and socks. He usually came to all my games, and even my practices, but this morning he just lay there, silent, staring.

It was a home game, so I grabbed my kit bag and set off for the field. Jerry had still said nothing when I left.

I played a lousy game. My mind just wasn't on it. All I could think about was that I had destroyed a valuable friendship, and that nothing mattered any more. Even our captain/coach commented on how I seemed to be way off today.

After the game, I skipped going to the student union pub with the rest of the guys. There was no way I could pretend to be enjoying myself.

When I returned to the dorm room, dreading saying what needed to be said to Jerry, to try to explain myself, to beg his forgiveness, Jerry was in the shower, with the bathroom door open. Actually, he had just turned the shower off, and heard me come into the small apartment.

I expected he would continue to give me the silent treatment, but instead he called,

"Hey, I'm in here!"

Still in my soccer gear, I went in. Jerry had only partly dried off. He was still naked. He looked at me rather embarrassedly. I looked back at him just as sheepishly.

"About this morning …" he began.

"About this morning …" I began, almost simultaneously.

We both stopped, and both grinned foolishly.

"I sorry about what I did," I began. "I couldn't help it. I kissed you because … I love you."

"… I love you, " Jerry finished at exactly the same time I said those very words.

We both fell silent, dumbfounded. I glanced down at his cock. It was growing, hardening.

Jerry started again. "I've wanted to say that for a very long time, " he began. "When you kissed me this morning, I could not believe how lucky I was. I got so horny for you. But then Tom came in, and I was afraid. I'm so sorry about how I reacted. Please don't move out," he begged. "I love you, Al," he whispered.

"And I love you, too, Jerry," I echoed softly. I nodded toward his stiffening cock. "Can I touch it?"

Jerry nodded, and whispered "Oh, yes, please."

For the first time, I held his long hard cock in my hand. It was beautiful. I used it as a handle to draw him toward me, and for the second time that day, we kissed. He stepped out of the tub to embrace me, and we kissed again, saying nothing.

I continued to use his cock as a handle, drawing him out of the bathroom and into the living-room area, while he struggled to tear my soccer uniform from me. My cock, too, was now rock hard, and leapt to attention when he slipped it out of the restraining jock-strap.

Seeing it leap free, Jerry dropped to his knees on the living-room floor, ready to suck it, but I restrained him for a moment to kiss him once more and fondle his muscular shoulders and chest. I also managed to wriggle out of my jock, still locked mouth-to-mouth.

But I did not want to make love with Jerry on the floor. I drew him to his feet and used his cock like a leash once more to lead him into the bedroom and toward his bed. We threw ourselves down upon it and went into a passionate embrace, kissing, and grinding our crotches against each other.

Neither of us had said a word since those initial declarations of love. Our mouths and hearts were too involved in making love.

When we finally came up for air, we sat up on the bed together, propped up with pillows. We groped for each other's cocks and began masturbating each other, gently.

"I've wanted you for so long," Jerry finally whispered, pausing from our frantic kissing just long enough to get the words out. We kissed again, and I told him,

"I've had permanent lover's nuts from wanting you."

He laughed, "You have no idea how much of my cum has gone down the shower drain from jerking off thinking of you."

"Oh, yes, I do!" I assured him, and we kissed some more, still squeezing each other's rock-hard rods.

Several times I thought I would cum all over us and all over Jerry's brightly-patterned duvet which he had brought here from home with him. It was brightly l floral, and I had often kidded him about it. But each time I edged, I willed the cum back down.

Jerry must have been doing the same, because he whispered to me, "If you don't let me fuck you soon, my balls will explode."

"Yes," I agreed, "I want that too." I lay face down on the bed and spread my legs for him. I held my buttocks apart while he spat on my hole and his cock to lube us both up a little.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said. "Let me know if it's too much for you," he instructed me.

"Don't worry. I'm not a virgin," I confessed to him. In fact, back in my home town, a guy a little older than me had fucked me several times with his large, fat cock. Jerry's cock was not as fat at that boy's but it was definitely longer. It must have been all of nine inches. I made a note to measure it some time.

"That's good," he replied. "Neither am I."

For all its length, Jerry's cock had a rather small knob, and he entered me easily. I felt it slipping up inside me, into my deepest recesses. I also felt the love surging between us. We were becoming one.

Jerry fucked me slowly and lovingly, both of us savoring every stroke, every thrusting and withdrawing, and when he had come, straining to force himself and all his cum as deep into me as he could go, he collapsed upon me, and we lay there, still locked together, soaking up our love for each other.

We never made it to the refectory for dinner that night. We were too hungry for each other, too eager to drink down the thrill of exploring each other.

In the weeks to come, we "came out" to our friends and respective team-mates. Not one of them rejected us. Not one of them had anything but kind words for us, and congratulations at finding Mister Right.

But it was over a year before we "came out" to our parents. By then we had moved out of the student residences and into an apartment.

Both sets of parents joined us for dinner at a nice restaurant, hosted by Jerry's parents to celebrate his twenty-first birthday. We had both dreaded telling them, and put it off until the end of the meal. During coffee, Jerry announced to both sets of parents:

"Mum, Dad, Mister and Mrs Baker, I have something to announce. In case you didn't know, Alan and I are in love. We plan on getting married some day. We hope you can accept this."

It was a very blunt, quite formal statement. We had both worked on it for ages. Now it was in the open. There was no turning back.

There was deathly silence at the table for a minute.

Then my father said, "Congratulations, son. You've got yourself a good man here," and my mother beamed proudly, happily.

Jerry's mother had tears running down her cheeks. She stood up abruptly, and I thought she was going to leave the restaurant, but instead she reached down and hugged her son. Jerry's father also hugged his son, then shook my hand. "I guess I just got me a second son," he observed.

"I hope he's good in bed," said my father, always the old farmer, never one to mince words.

"Oh, Dad, hush up," prostested my mother, but everyone laughed,

And that was all there was to it. We finished our coffee, then we took the parents to the student union pub to celebrate our "engagement."

Jerry and I got married last month in my home town right after both our graduations. He has found a job with an engineering firm in Kelowna, and I have taken a teaching assistant job at UBC Okanagan, also in Kelowna.

We have done our house hunting, and have found a great fixer-upper as our first home. That's the way our life goes - from dorm mates to life mates. May you be as lucky!

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