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that’s how I like to give it, Baby. In other words, you better put your helmet and shin pads on, because here we go…
    Needless to say, getting out of bed was tricky. As you may or may not remember, guys who are twenty-one tend to wake up with, how should I put this delicately, a raging hard-on. (Hmm, delicate no, visually appealing, most definitely.) And, even though my head was splitting, I had enough sense not to lead William on, tempting as it seemed.
    “Mmm, could you shut your eyes, please?” I pleaded, with as much dignity as I could muster.
    “Mmm, no way, Secret. Anyway, I already saw it. How do you think you got that way to begin with? But fear not, Sweetie, I was a complete gentleman. And, uh, by the way, most gay guys these days trim those nasty little pubic hairs. I mean, seriously, I found a spare set of car keys tangled up in there last night.”
    How, exactly, do you respond to something like that? So I just laid there and looked pitiful until he finally relented and shut his eyes. It was then that I quickly got up, found my clothes, and got dressed. Luckily, boners go down just about as fast as they go up, because I really didn’t want to remain naked for very much longer than I already had been.
    Modesty, however, may have come easy for me, but not for William. No sooner was I dressed, and there he was, springing out of bed and making his way to the dresser. William, being twenty-two, was just as easily up as I was, so guess what I got a gander at? And, no, he couldn’t have cared less and merely started rummaging through the top drawer of his dresser. I hadn’t a clue what he was looking for and, to tell the truth, I had my eyes on something else. I mean, I’d only ever seen someone else’s prick in magazines and in gym class, and then they were soft and non-threatening. This sucker was big and hard and pointing right at me, like a divine divining rod.
    “Better watch out, it senses fear,” he said, with a chuckle, and then tensed something to make it bounce. I gulped and turned three shades of red (they were… wait a minute, we’ve done that one already. Let’s add a fourth one then: fire-engine.)
    “I wasn’t looking. I was just…”
    “Yeah, yeah, right, whatever.” He shook his head and walked back over to me. In his hand was a little baggie with some powder in it. Now, I may have been unlearned way back then, but even I knew what he was handing me. “Here,” he said.
    So there I was, face to face with my first hard-on (that wasn’t my own) and my first bag of coke. (Decisions, decisions.) Despite my better judgment, I took the coke, even though it was behind curtain number-two and I wanted the box where Carol Merrill was standing. (Twenty-one, friend. Keep reminding yourself of that. It’ll make it easier to explain the choices I made.)
    “Take it. Trust me, it’ll make your day go by a lot faster and easier.” And with that, he produced a little, silver spoon, grabbed my free hand, and sat me back down on the bed. Then he reached below his bed and pulled out a little, square mirror. (By the by, his pecker was still standing at attention. Honestly, I didn’t know whether to look away or salute the damn thing.) “Okay, I take it, by the look of terror on your face, that this is your first time. (Oh, if he only knew.) So, I’ll go first. And if you want to play with it, go ahead,” he said, very matter of factly, before glancing down at his manhood and them back up to me.
    So, as he gingerly poured the white powder onto the mirror and spread it out with the blunt end of the spoon, I grabbed my first, my very first (oh, I just love this part of the story) penis. Penis, penis, PENIS! (Shout it like Oprah does; it helps to get the point across.) There it was and there was my hand around it. I, Bruce Miller, was holding onto an honest to goodness, hard as a rock, prick. Hallelujah!
    And, as I stroked it, which wasn’t easy because my hand was shaking life a leaf, he was