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Sowing Wild Oats, Ch. 6: Walking the Line

Rob and Rick tore across the quad, aiming for the safety and darkness of
the library, which was an old house buried in an overgrown garden out of
Hans Christian Anderson, surrounded by poplars, pines and shrubs. There
was nobody around and they made it. Not speaking a word since the sauna,
they remained quiet to catch their breath and see if anyone was about or
following.

After a few minutes, Rob said "Seems safe, for now. I imagine George
went back to bed after checking the sauna. Now, how are we going to get
to Samuels? Is that the best place to go?"

"You're likely right about George. Samuels makes sense. If we make it
there and then get caught, we can claim someone stole our clothes. That
wouldn't wash as well here, as they'd expect us to wake up one of our
friends and get help. You don't know anyone at Samuels that we could be
expected to ask to help out, do you? I don't, unless you count Vanya."

Rob snorted, "Vanya! We'd be better off with George. Vanya would insist
on taking pictures for hours before she did anything to help. You know
she's always after all the guys to pose for her. Talk about walking into
the lion's den! She's not in the dorms anyway - she has her own
apartment nearby, she said she needed the space for her studio. Anyway,
nobody would expect us to go there - they'd expect us to avoid it at all
costs, especially if our story about having our clothes stolen is to be
believed. Hell, we could probably gain credibility by suggesting that
she may have nicked them. No, the only other person I know there is
Hans, and he's almost as bad as Vanya."

"Oh yeah, I'd forgotten him. At least he's not pushy, and he only wants
to paint. I was actually thinking of agreeing to pose for him."

"Come on Rick, he's gay. What makes you think that all you'd end up
doing would be posing?"

Rick laughed, "This coming from one guy naked with a hardon to another.
Speaking of which, I think it's time to take care of this, while we have
the chance. If we're gonna get caught, I'd rather not be quite so
obscene about it." And he started to stroke, getting the expected result
quickly.

Rob was not far behind. When he was done, he laughed, "OK, I suppose
Hans isn't so bad. Well, have you figured out a route?"

"Unless you have a better idea, I figure we have three blocks to go
before we can slip onto the railway tracks, on fairly dark streets. Or,
we can brazen it out and straight down to the tracks. Saves us a block,
but it's brightly lit and we might hurt our feet on the way, and then
we'd be in trouble playing tennis later."

"OK, the long way it is. But, aren't the tracks fairly open?"

Ron pondered and responded, "Yeah, but they're dark, and we're not
likely to run into anyone - it's a bit early for a donut run. We have
one major street to cross, but it shouldn't be busy, although the tracks
are quite open on both sides, and well-lit there." Rob nodded and they
headed off, darting from one dark patch to the next across the areas lit
by streetlights. Finally, they made it to the tracks.

"Oops, looks like we have a problem," observed Rob. "There's a lot of
broken glass here."

"Yeah, be really careful. We both need our feet, and I don't want to
have to go get medical care just now, although I'm dressed for it, I
suppose."

"Nah, you're supposed to have only your ass on display in one of those
shortie nightgowns. If we take it slowly, we should be OK. Tell you
what, why not walk on the rails - you know, like a tightrope? You're in
charge, as you won the game, so it's your call."

"Hey, I'm not in charge here! I used up my winnings on the doubles game.
Plus I invited Mary and Beth, and gave George your room key. The way I
see it, you've got two or three picks before we're even again, depending
on how you cut it. Let's say 2, and we'll walk the line."

Rob pondered for a bit, and got an evil grin. "You mean I get to plan
the next two stunts, and you'll go along with it?"

It was Rick's turn to look nervous. "Umm, yeah. But hey, remember that
everything I made you do, I did too. Let's try and keep in the same
spirit, huh?"

"Fair enough. OK, we'll walk the line, but we gotta do it with boners
again. If you think you're going to lose your balance, step down onto a
tie after checking for glass and before you fall. But, if you do step
down, you gotta stroke your dick, five times with just the index finger
on the head. The other guy gets a break too, and the show doesn't start
until he's ready."

Rick nodded and stepped up on the rail after giving his cock a few good
squeezes. "I'm ready. This could be a long walk. I assume the
no-touching rule is in effect, except for the tie rule."

Rob nodded, having given himself the same treatment, stepped onto the
rail, put his hands over his head for balance and took his first few
steps. Rick laughed, and, starting to lose his balance, stepped off the
rail. "Oops."

Rob stepped off onto a tie and turned to watch. Rick licked his index
finger and wiped the upper part of the head. "Oh, you are a bastard,
Rob. Once is bad enough, but five times! We'll never get there." Rob
just smiled, holding up 1 finger. Rick licked gain, and tried the slit
this time, and just moaned. Rob held up a second finger. Rob licked and
aimed for the underside this time, and looked a little more pleased. Rob
held up a third finger. Rick licked his finger and looked down - he
could no longer reac h the top side unless he prised it off his belly,
so he went for the left side.

"Nice form. Like the way you've covered all the options. But, you're
gonna have trouble next time." Rob held up a fourth finger, and Rick did
the right side.

Getting back on the rail, Rick put his hands over his head and slowly
stepped along. "Come on, let's get going." As he caught up to Rob, Rob
also got back on the other rail and moved along at the same pace.

"We must look like a couple of ballet dancers." said Rick.

"Awfully sheer tights, I'd say. Plus our codpieces are a bit
medieval-erotic style. Maybe we should go on tip-toes and complete the
image?" Rob went up on just his toes and looked over at Rick, who shook
his head.

"No way. I can't do that. How the hell can you?"

"Easy. Dance lessons in elementary school. I didn't want to go, but Mom
insisted, saying I'd thank her later. She was right, it came in handy
being able to dance without clobbering my partners feet, and I think it
helped with the tennis footwork."

Rick said, "You have hidden depths. Even so, I didn't have dance lessons
and couldn't keep that up for more than a couple of steps. OK if I carry
on as before?"

"Sure thing." Rob took a few more steps on his toes and then went back
to normal. "Out of practice myself, so no point in overdoing it. We're
coming up to a cross-street, but just carry on as if it weren't there."

Rick trailed a bit behind Rob, who confidently waltzed across the
street, hands still high over his head. Rick looked nervously up and
down the street and gingerly set out, trying to push the pace a bit. But
he made it and then stopped on the rail a few feet back into the
darkness. "The next cross-street is the main drag, and it's well-lit.
You're not gonna do this there are you?"

Rob paused too and looked back at Rick. "No, I have something better in
mind. I'll tell you when we get there. Stop just short of the light,
stay in the shadows and we'll wait for our opportunity. Trust me, you'll
like it, after it's over." He stuck his tongue out, and took off down
the rail.

... continued in Ch. 7: Wheeling Across

NOTE: Comments are appreciated (including critiques) to
cdngadfly@usa.net or ICQ#32364537