| Welcome to the Dorms, (Enlgish), gay 18+ |
| 1 | Dorm life was nothing like I thought it would be. Growing up a sheltered only child in a middle-class suburb in the Midwest, I thought of college as a sort of Happy Days type experience... wild frat parties aside, I thought it would be something like what I knew -- one huge high school where you didn't go home. Boy was I mistaken. "Steve," my mother asked me as she left, "are you sure you're going to be alright? |
| 2 | If you need anything, just call... It's a long way from home to Williamsburg, but Dad and I can come right back if you need something." Despite my father's stoic silence and periodic eye-rolling, the lecture went on for over forty five minutes; I tuned her out as usual. At the time, I thought she was being over-protective... alright, she was. She always had been, after all. Still, William & Mary was as unlike Gary, Indiana as the dark side of the Moon, and Mom in her own mommish way had picked up on that immediately. |
| 3 | Her long, pointless tirade basically boiled down to two words: "I'm worried." When we finally arrived in Williamsburg after being on the road for three days, we spent the night in (yet another) hotel. Early the next morning, my parents helped me get settled into my room in the dorm. Once I was moved in they went off to do touristy stuff, looking at Colonial Williamsburg stuff and shopping on Duke of Gloucester street. |
| 4 | I was immediately caught up in the whirl of orientation, meeting my RA, a nice guy from Alexandria named Scott, and reading the approximately five books worth of orientation material the college had decided I needed. Talking to Scott, I found out that I was one of the first kids to arrive, and that I would be rooming with a guy named Vincent Giordano. Scott was almost too helpful - he talked to me for over an hour, telling me where the cafeteria was, how the laundry area worked, how to read my class schedule, where the frats were, good places to eat, on and on and on. |
| 5 | Luckily I was used to my mother's verbal barrages, or I think my ears would have fallen off. By the time he left my head was swimming. When my parents showed up that night to collect me for dinner, I felt numb from too much information -- serious brain overload time. My mother wanted to eat in the cafeteria "to see what it was like", but my father thankfully put the kibosh on that. We went to dinner in some restaurant they had spotted in their wandering, and my mother started in on the 'are you sure you're going to be OK here' song again; everything was fine, I assured her. |
| 6 | Everything would be fine, I was fine, it was all fine, fine, fine, fine. The rest of the night was a blur... I remember my father's firm handshake and clap on the back, my mother's tearful hug, and finally squeezing myself into the tiny, flat dorm bed. I had always been a morning person, so I woke up with the sun. Birds were singing outside my window, and the campus was still and quiet. The dorms were seriously ugly -- the walls in both the halls and rooms were painted that pale hospital green, and the floor tiles were grayish chocolate brown; it was like walking around in a dirty chocolate mint sundae. |
| 7 | Looking around the room, it was tiny; half the size of my room at home, which I had thought was somewhat cramped. I'm not fat, by any means, but I am lanky and tall like my father and his family, the Sorensens; I couldn't imagine sharing this almost miniature room with someone else. Having just woken up, my morning wood was making a huge tent in my boxers. I'm hung pretty well too (at least according to what I've read) coming in at just over seven inches of thick, curved meat, so hiding my erection was not really an option. |
| 8 | Based on what the past four years had shown me, waking up without an erection wasn't really an option either. Which raised yet another issue I hadn't really thought about until now... privacy. How could I jerk off with someone else living here? My old standby the bathroom was going to be dicey for such activity as well. I ran track in high school, so I was used to locker rooms, but sharing a bathroom and shower area with 14 other guys was going to be... |
| 9 | interesting. The dorm floor was laid out like a lower case 'h', with the bathroom area being between the two bars and rooms lining the outside, so no room was too far from one of the heavy wooden doors that led into the bathroom. Well, as my mother would say, "one problem at a time". I grabbed my toiletries kit, towel and shampoo, threw on my bathrobe and headed for the shower. In the bathroom, I pushed through the swinging door into the shower area and took off my robe. |
| 10 | I turned on the water and tested it... ice cold. I let it run for a few minutes, and finally it got to a human temperature, so I shucked my boxers and hopped in. Looking at the layout, I was glad I had bought some shower sandals; there were only three shower stalls, and I didn't want to track through anything disgusting. My morning wood had gone down while testing the cold water, but as I soaped myself it stood up again hard as a rock. |
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