I got an unexpected benefit after rehearsing a scene for one of my classes in college. It's a true story, too, with only the names changed.
In one of my acting classes, when we were focusing on Shakespearean comedies, a girl in my class, Eileen, and I decided that, rather than torture ourselves (she knew I was gay) we'd do the 'first encounter scene' between Petruchio and Katherina in 'The Taming of the Shrew.' It's bawdy, athletic...and DOESN'T REQUIRE KISSING! I usually cracked-up during kissing scenes and more than one director flew into tirades over my inability to stay serious.
Eileen was a local girl, who lived at home, so I went to her place to rehearse. It was late afternoon. We had been running lines and setting the blocking for a couple of hours when her brother, Travis, came home. He was a freshman at the same college, two years behind us.
We asked Travis to watch the scene, and tell us what he thought. We ran it twice and after we worked through some of the rougher spots, Eileen said she had to head out for the library. I was ready to leave too, when Travis asked me if I had taken any psych classes. I told him I had, because it helped with character development, and he said, 'Well how about term paper development. I have to write something on 'anti-social personality disorder' and I could use some help.'
That's a tough topic. ASPD as it's known in psych-circles yields very few success stories. There's not much agreement about treatment and lots of speculation. Prisons are full of people with that disorder. They snub society, show very little conscience or remorse, and are extremely manipulative. I mentioned that to Travis, and we chatted for awhile, when suddenly he asked the strangest thing.
'Aren't gays manipulative?'
'Where did THAT come from?' I replied. 'Don't tell me you stereotype gays.'
'Well, I've been hit on a few times, and when I say I'm straight and not interested, they keep trying and trying to make me give in!'
I could almost understand it. With his dirty blonde hair, ruddy complexion, and mischievous eyes, he was pretty damn cute! However, that wasn't the point, so I told him, 'Look, maybe some guys are like that, but we're not ALL that way! You just met some assholes.'
'So you're saying that you would never do that? Not even if I did THIS?' And he began kneading his crotch through his cargo shorts.
'Now you're messing with me, dude,' I responded and started to chuckle nervously. Mr. Supposedly-Straight-Boy didn't stop. He reached under his t-shirt, and circled a finger around one of his nipples.
'Or this?' he cooed. I could feel a stirring in my shorts, but I tried to hold my ground.
'NOW who's being manipulative?' I half stammered. 'Are you trying to tell me something?'
He broke down and laughed. 'Had you going for a minute, didn't I? But, look, Josh, I was wondering...' He groped for words. 'Do you ever...like....you know...jack-off with other guys?
JEEZ, he looked so cute and now desperate. 'Yeah,' I said, with a little gulp. 'I do sometimes with my room-mates. Is that what this is about?'
'Let's go to my room,' he replied. I protested feebly, saying it might not be a good idea, but he took off his shirt, rolled it up, and snapped it at my butt. I caught the end and pulled him toward me. I shouldn't have done that! Looking into his eyes up close, his naughty grin, and feeling his naked torso against me....I was a goner...with a boner!
So we went to his room. Travis unzipped his shorts and kicked them off. Then he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers and lowered them slowly. His cut, upward-arching dick sprang free and slapped against his stomach.
'It's been like that most of the day,' he said, laughing again and polishing the head with his palm. I quickly climbed out of my own shorts and he grinned when he saw my leaking pole. 'Nice flow!' he exclaimed. We both stood there, only about a foot apart, wanking ourselves slowly while we stared at each other's rigid rods. We rocked back and forth, gurgling and muttering obscenities, and picked up the pace.
Finally, Travis went up on his toes and threw his head back. He thrust his hips forward and shot his load all over my fist and swollen cock. The warm, slippery jizz was all it took to make my balls tingle, scrunch-up, and send jets of ecstasy all over his now limp tool. We stood there panting. He reached for the box of tissues on his night stand and we cleaned ourselves up. At one point he took one of the tissues and held it under my nose for a whiff. I almost got hard again from the starchy aroma.
'Thanks, Josh,' he said.
'Whew. Thank you, too.' I started to pull my shorts back up. 'By the way. Are you REALLY writing a paper on ASPD?'
He just laughed - again! - and didn't answer.