Gay sex in public library with librarian


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School was finally over and summer had begun at last. Dipak was 18 years old and his two years of middle school were behind him, perhaps the most difficult in his young life so far. Now came the next challenge; four years of college. He was not only nervous about that, but truly afraid. Somehow, he had to use this summer to prepare himself, and come to grips with things that were beyond his understanding.

He was a shy, introverted boy who never really had any friends. His father, who had been a police officer in their small town, was shot and killed when Dipak was nine, leaving him alone with his mother who worked as a nurse at the local hospital. With a slight build for his age, he didn’t fit into the athletic crowd. Standing only 5′ 5” he was nonetheless handsome with pitch black hair and blue eyes that seemed to glow in contrast with his dark hair and lashes. He loved to read, which he did non-stop. The books would carry him away into fantasy land where he could be and do anything he wanted. Dipak also loved to write. After reading a book, he would pen his own adaptation of the story or add a small part of his own. Now that summer was here, he intended to spend as much time as possible at the small public library in town.

Chanchal was 21 and had just graduated from college where he had been an above-average student, but not a brain. He was 6′ tall, had a muscular build, brown, neatly-trimmed hair and hazel eyes. He had had several girlfriends throughout college, but not a steady relationship with anyone. What only a few people knew was that he was also bi-sexual. Later in the summer, he was headed for college out east, but was working part-time at the public library until then to earn some extra money.

Dipak was already waiting when Chanchal arrived at 10:00 to open the library. They knew each other slightly just by living in a small town, but had never spent any time together. Chanchal actually knew more “of” him than about him, due to his father having been killed, sending a shock wave through the town. “Morning, Dipak,” he said. “Hey, Chanchal,” he replied in his soft voice. They went inside and Dipak immediately chose a small table where he set his book bag down. That would be his spot for the rest of the summer. He never even bothered with the catalog, but rather went straight to browse the shelves manually, looking for whatever type of book suited him that day. Returning to his table, he would then read until the library closed at 4:00, stopping only to take some paper from his bag and write.

Chanchal was the only librarian there at any given time, and watched Dipak follow his same routine each day. Sometimes, when no one else was in the library, which happened often, he would strike up a conversation with him. He learned about his fear of upcoming college, but Dipak would never explain why he was afraid. One boring day, with nothing else to do, Chanchal asked him what he was writing. “Oh, nothing,” he replied. “Can I read it?” Chanchal asked. “No. It’s just for me. No one else can ever see what I write. Never,” he replied sternly, and put his arms over the paper to shield it from view.

The summer continued uneventfully as Dipak and Chanchal came to know each other better. On one steamy August day, Dipak had been writing and, apparently overcome by the heat, had put his head down on the table and fallen asleep. Since it was already past 4:00, Chanchal locked the door, went over and gazed at the sweet kid sleeping peacefully. He knew he was breaking the rule, but couldn’t resist and carefully slipped the paper Dipak was writing on from under his hand.

Chanchal reflected on his own youth, and now understood why Dipak kept to himself so much and what his fear of college might be. He was carefully trying to replace the paper under Dipak’s hand when he suddenly awoke. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he saw Chanchal next to him with his hand on the paper. He pulled it away in a panic and stuffed it into his bag. “Did you read it?” he demanded. “Yes, I did,” Chanchal answered truthfully. Dipak stood up and said, “I trusted you. No one was supposed to know. No one.” He turned his back on him and quietly said, “and now you do.” Dipak was taken by complete surprise when Chanchal put his strong arms around him and firmly pulled him against his body. He leaned into Dipak’s neck and whispered, “yes, I do, and it’s okay. It really is.”

Chanchal continued to hold him and gently began to kiss his soft neck as his cock, held tightly against his little ass, stiffened ever so slightly. Dipak didn’t know what to do. He was frightened, but also knew that Chanchal would never hurt him. He felt his warm breath on his neck, wrapped in his embrace, moist, hot lips kissing him, and the bulge against his ass. His head began to spin as Chanchal lowered his right hand to his groin and gently ran his hand over Dipak’s crotch. Was this really happening? Should he stop him? Were his dreams and fantasies actually coming true? As Chanchal rubbed his crotch and tenderly kissed him, Dipak’s cock hardened quickly.

He couldn’t believe it when Chanchal opened his snap, lowered his zipper and pulled his white briefs down just enough to free his cock and balls. He jolted and gasped when he felt his warm hand wrap around his hard 4”, the first time anyone had ever touched his cock. Chanchal slowly stroked his hard shaft, stopping only to gently fondle his smooth, hairless bag, then returning to his cock. Although doing nothing to make him stop, Dipak kept whispering, “no… no… no.” Ignoring his feeble pleas, Chanchal tightened his grip and stroked faster. He moved his left hand up from Dipak’s chest to his face, where he softly ran his index finger across his lips, finally poking the tip into his mouth. Dipak pulled the finger into his mouth and began sucking on it. Chanchal timed the strokes of his cock to match the short thrusts of his finger into his hot mouth. Dipak started to moan and breathe heavily and, when he felt him reach behind, grabbing Chanchal’s jean-clad ass with both hands, he knew that he was ready. He took his finger out of Dipak’s mouth and put his left hand over the top of his cock while stroking furiously with his right. “Ohhhh, ohhhh, ohhhh,” Dipak grunted as his body shuddered and jets of hot cream shot from his cock into Chanchal’s left hand. When he felt his small body finally going limp, Chanchal pulled his left hand up to his mouth and swallowed down every drop of hot sperm in it while still milking Dipak’s softening cock with his right. Once sure that he had completely drained him, he brought his cum-drenched right hand up to Dipak’s mouth, who licked it clean, running his tongue between his fingers and sucking each one of them. Chanchal reached down, tucked everything back into his pants and zipped him up. Turning him around, he walked him to the door, bringing his book bag with him, unlocked it and said, “I can be here an hour early tomorrow, if you’d like.” Dipak impulsively hugged him tightly, picked up his bag and, with a bright smile, left for home.

After eating dinner, Dipak helped his mother with the dishes, as always. She noticed, however, that he wasn’t as focused as usual. “Is everything alright?” she asked. “It’s fine, mom. I’m simply tired tonight. I read too much today at the library, and just need to go to bed,” he answered. She gave him a kiss on the forehead and let him go. Dipak went to his room and stripped to his underwear, then threw himself onto the bed. He wasn’t really that tired; it’s just that he couldn’t turn his reeling brain off. Chanchal now knew that he was gay. He would have no reason to tell anyone else, but could he be sure? And what about Chanchal? He must also be gay. After all, he had stroked him off and eaten his cum. Dipak thought of his strong arms around him and those hot kisses on his neck. What would happen tomorrow? A hundred options coursed through his mind until, after nearly two hours, he finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.

It was 9:00 and Dipak was waiting outside the library. His heart started to race as he saw Chanchal approaching. “Morning” he said with a smile. “Hey, Chanchal,” he said as he always did. Once inside the library, Chanchal locked the door as Dipak went to his usual table, setting down his book bag. When he turned around, Chanchal was standing right in front of him. Without saying a word, he put his right hand on Dipak’s cheek, softly caressing his face. Putting his left hand on his shoulder, he leaned down and kissed his lips. Fireworks went off throughout his body as Dipak experienced his first kiss. It was soft, gentle, moist, hot and he nearly fainted. Chanchal pulled back and gazed into his star-struck blue eyes with a smile. After all, he hadn’t forgotten his first kiss either. “Are you okay, Dipak?” he asked quietly. The only response he could manage was, “uh, huh.” Leaning back in and putting his arms around him, Chanchal gave him short, tiny kisses, sometimes just barely touching his lips. “Slowly we go,” he thought. He would back away slightly, giving Dipak the chance to start returning his own little kisses, learning as he went. Holding each other closer, their kisses became longer, deeper and more passionate. Being taller, Chanchal could feel Dipak’s cock harden against his thigh as they tightly embraced, and his own cock was beginning to rage against his abdomen.

Needing a break for air, Chanchal buried his face into Dipak’s neck, and gently began licking his soft skin and nibbling on his earlobe while running his right hand over his round, firm ass. Recalling countless dreams, Dipak did the same, licking his neck and taking in real man scent for the first time in his life. Chanchal was the first to break away. He stared into Dipak’s eyes for a moment, kissed him, and sank to his knees. Running his hand over the flaming bulge in his pants, he undid the button, lowered the zipper and pulled both his pants and underwear down to his ankles. He paused to take in Dipak’s beautiful circumcised cock, small patch of black pubes and silky, hairless bag, then began kissing and licking his smooth, milky-white inner thighs, purposefully avoiding his cock. Dipak’s head shot back as he felt the hot, wet tongue move its way around his sensitive groin, but never touching his cock.

Breathing heavily now with closed eyes, Dipak put his hands on Chanchal’s head, awaiting what he knew would come next. Taking the cue, Chanchal flicked his tongue over his bag, then took the entire thing into his mouth, gently sucking his balls as he inhaled the sweet boy aroma. Knowing that this was all new to him, he decided that too much teasing would be a bad thing. He wasn’t going to let Dipak’s first blow job end up with a load on the floor. With that, Chanchal took his entire cock into his mouth and began to suck. Dipak nearly shot through the roof as he felt the hot, wet mouth engulf his aching cock. He had imagined it a thousand times before in his mind, but never knew it would feel like this. Grabbing his firm, little buns, Chanchal bobbed up and down on the hard boy rod with a passion, knowing it wouldn’t take long. Dipak was quivering, on fire as bolts of pleasure roared through his body. Unable to stand it any longer, he gave in. “Oa, oa, oa, oa,” he yelped as his cock exploded in Chanchal’s mouth. Seemingly endless blasts of hot boy juice flew from his cock into his mouth, Chanchal sucking down every drop as he continued to bob. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to think straight after such a huge blow, Chanchal let his sweet cock slip from his mouth and stood up. As expected, Dipak collapsed against him. He had to hold his body in his arms to keep him from falling to the floor.

He was panting. “Oh……huh, huh, huh….. I…… huh, huh, huh……think I might die……huh, huh, huh.” Chanchal held him tightly and, smiling to himself, said, “no, you’re not going to die. It may feel that way, but I would never let that happen to you.” He held him closely and nuzzled into his neck until it was clear that he had recovered. Before the inevitable after-orgasm regret and doubt set in, he pulled his underwear and pants back up, making sure everything was closed. Wrapping his arms around him, Chanchal whispered, “it’s okay. It’s really okay,” as he had told him the day before. Dipak felt his warmth and caring float him to a height his imagination hadn’t even thought possible before. More than anything, he wanted it to be love, but somehow knew that could never happen.

A loud knocking on the door reminded Chanchal that it was time to open the library. They had been together for an hour, and Chanchal rushed to unlock the door as Dipak sat down at his table, taking pencil and paper in hand. The hours dragged by and the hands on the clock seemed frozen in place. There were more people than usual in the library that day, and Dipak could only stare longingly at Chanchal, but made sure that he didn’t give himself away to anyone else.

When 4:00 finally arrived and the library was empty, Chanchal asked, “are you ready to go?” as he stood by the door. Dipak walked up to him and said, “not yet.” Chanchal locked the door and Dipak took his hand, leading him to an armless chair, gently pushing him back. Once seated, he put his legs on either side of him and sat down on Chanchal’s lap. He gazed into his beautiful, hazel eyes, then wrapped his arms around him and pressed his lips firmly against his. He kissed him passionately, tilting his head from side to side. Chanchal felt he was ready, and probed his lips with the tip of his tongue. Dipak readily accepted it and they intertwined their tongues. The passion and intensity grew as they dined on each other like a gourmet meal, kissing, nibbling, tonguing. Sitting astride him, Dipak had been grinding his cute, little ass into Chanchal’s groin and could feel his hard cock through his jeans.

Dipak broke his kiss and stood up, then backed away a couple of steps and sank to his knees between Chanchal’s legs. He stared at the bulge in his pants, and started rubbing it with his right hand. Eager for his first real cock, he undid the snap, lowered the zipper, and pulled Chanchal’s jeans and boxers down below his balls. After unleashing the beast, he could only stare at the hard, cut, slender 7.5” cock before him. He regained his senses, and tightly wrapped his left hand around the shaft, feeling the warmth and soft skin. “Oh, yes,” Chanchal moaned. Dipak held his cock while moving down to fondle his wrinkly sack with his right hand, gently squeezing his balls. Bending down, he began to run his tongue over the silken bag, taking one of his balls into his mouth. They were too big for him to handle both at once. He suckled on the hidden orb while stroking his dick. “Oh, Dipak, that’s so good,” Chanchal whispered, giving him extra encouragement.

Desperate now for his first taste, Dipak let Chanchal’s ball slip from his mouth and ran his tongue up the underside of his shaft from the base to the tip, feeling the blood coursing through the large vein. He licked up the huge glob of pre-cum oozing from the slit, savoring the sticky man-juice like it was nectar. Dipak slowly curled his tongue around the sensitive underside of the head, then flicked it around the rim, finally taking it into his mouth. “Oh, fuck!” Chanchal gasped as the sweet boy mouth enveloped his insanely hard cock. He gobbled on the succulent rod, taking only as much of it as he could handle while jacking the rest with his hand. Chanchal grabbed Dipak’s head, but wasn’t going to force anything. He just let him suck at his own pace, holding him gently as he slid up and down. His eyes closed, Chanchal felt him pick up speed; sucking, jerking, sucking, jerking. He couldn’t hold out any longer and gave Dipak his prize. “Ah, ah, ah, ah,” he grunted as his body was torn with mind-numbing pleasure, shooting sperm into his mouth like a fire hose. Dipak felt the geyser erupt in his mouth and swallowed every delicious shot he fired. As Chanchal’s wild orgasm slowed and his cock began to soften, he kept his mouth firmly around it, relishing the last few drops on his tongue.

As Chanchal had done for him, Dipak tucked everything back in and zipped him up, sitting back down on his lap. He held him closely and burrowed into his neck.“Was that okay?” he asked softly. “Oh, yes,” Chanchal said, his breathing finally returning to normal.

“Since we’re both gay, could I … well…just maybe…be your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. Chanchal had to think this out quickly. “You see, Dipak, I’m not really gay. I’m a switch-hitter.” Perplexed, he asked, “what does that mean?” Although knowing that he might crush his innocent perception, Chanchal decided to be truthful. “It’s like in baseball. Some guys can hit both right- and left-handed. That means I like both girls and guys.”

Chanchal could feel Dipak’s body deflate against him, but never released his close embrace. After several moments of silence, Dipak said, “I understand. Will you find another guy at college?” “Maybe,” Chanchal answered. “If you do, please don’t forget me, because I will never forget you,” he mumbled, forcing himself to hold back the tears welling in his eyes.

“Dipak, you can’t be my lover, but you can be my boyfriend. Even if I meet someone else, you’ll be the only boyfriend I will remember forever, and that is my promise.” Dipak pulled his face away from Chanchal’s neck and looked at him, locking eyes as though welded together, and knew that it was true. As if saying good-bye for the last time, they melted into each other with a sensuous kiss.

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