The Old College Try

 Originally posted on Tumblr: Feb 13 2022

 

“I hate how long they make us wait for this,” Emerson complained. The last place he wanted to be was at a college. It just wasn’t for him, but his parents wouldn’t let him rest unless he came here. Even the whole college application process had been their idea. The hall where all the recently graduated high school students had gathered was large, but still crowded with over 200 attendees, not including the parents.

“Dude, relax we’ll start in a minute,” Bernardo nudged him with his elbow. They were two of the only teens there without their parents. But that’s because Emerson had sweet talked all of them into letting the two teens go alone. Grewim University was large and way too big to not be explored. Their parents on the other hand would have made them do everything to get them invested in the campus. Of course, they still had to go through the mandatory tour and activities since they were going to be future students here. It was a whole early summer weekend from Friday morning to Sunday evening dedicated to immersing the incoming students in the campus before August. 

Most colleges may have been expected to be empty otherwise, and while Grewim wasn’t exactly bustling at the moment, its campus was open to the public year-round and a few joggers and dog walkers came through often. It was hard not to pass by with the greenery of the trees and flowers around.

By the time students were being split into groups for the tours, Emerson and Bernardo were still together. They stood off to the side looking out at the campus’ quad over the collections of families inhabiting the area waiting for their tour guide. Current student volunteers were going to group everyone, then around noon the parents would leave, and it’d be just the students for the rest of the weekend. Of course, most parents wouldn’t be leaving the city, all the activities ended at 5:00 each day. No doubt families were dying to explore the inner-city area.

 “Excuse me,” a man carrying a camera approached the two. He didn’t look like a parent, but he didn’t look like a school administrator either. “I saw you from across the quad while I was snapping pictures and I was curious if you ever thought about modeling?”

Emerson’s mouth fell open as he pointed to himself, “ME?” That was hard to believe with his brown curly hair, pale skin, and lack of a good diet, that was a question he never expected. “No, I haven’t, sir.”

“Well, think about it, and if it sounds like something you want to do, call this number,” The man handed over a business card. Emerson kindly accepted, feeling a tingle as the card brushed past him, dismissing it as static shock. The man smiled walking away. The card read Mr. Kasi’s Photography.

Emerson and Bernardo looked at each other mouthing, ‘Wow’.

“Do you think he was serious?” Emerson asked.

“Who knows, part of me says – ‘stranger danger’ and the other part says this is college life for you. Then again maybe it’s the former because he did just walk completely past me and everyone knows I’m the hot one.”  Benardo bemused.  Emerson nudged him in the side before the two broke into a fit of laughter. Their late-night streams on twitch assured they didn’t exactly have the most active dating life.

A whistle blew and that’s when college students assigned to give tours popped out of the building the crowd had just seen. Immediately they started splitting people into groups. Bernardo and Emerson tried to stick together, but a bubbly girl dragged Bernardo away, claiming him for her group. Of course, Emerson was just going to follow, but a strong clasp from a hand fell on his shoulder.

“Actually, you’re with me.”

Emerson slightly turned his neck to see there was a mountain of a guy standing behind him. ‘THICK’ was the first word that came to mind when Emerson saw the neck and muscular body the hand was attached to. The silly volunteer shirt the college student wore was too small. His pecs were greatly accentuated, and his shoulder and biceps were ready to burst the seams, but no matter how he moved, they didn’t give. The stranger’s body was adorned with a handsome face and jovial smile, while his short blond hair was tucked under a backwards cap.

“Name’s Mack.”

His gregarious nature, rippling body, and lack of personal space made Emerson immediately peg the guy as a frat bro or athlete. He happily chatted with the group he’d created while dragging them along the campus. Unsurprisingly, Mack talked more about himself than the campus. A refreshing change of pace, for Emerson. He went on so many tours of this place he already knew the locations and history of most of the buildings. All those previous tours were forced onto him by his parents. They were dedicated to getting him to come to Grewim. Probably because it was just a town over, and they didn’t have to drive far to see him. Though it was nice to get an inside look about a student’s life on one of these tours. Other than that Emerson stuck to the back. He thought he’d be making jokes with Bernardo by now.

His plan was to hide out until the tour was over, but Mack wouldn’t leave him be. In fact, Mack wasn’t letting any of the students be. He’d single one of them and ask if they had any questions. If they shook their heads or refused to answer he’d say, “Well, you must have something.” The worst was when they got to the Greek houses on campus. They had grill stations and sandbox volleyball courts as 4 of the frats on campus were in their own little corner. A few current college students there attending summer sessions were out there tossing a ball back and forth.

Emerson heard the more traditional parents’ gasps when they saw the girls on field were in nothing more than sports bras and shorts. It was a summer day so Emerson wasn’t surprised that people would dress comfortably. Even still he tried to look away because the girls and boys bouncing bodies were speaking to him right below the belt. The girls were certainly ‘well gifted’ to say the least, but what got Emerson flushed beyond belief was watching the male students’ pecs bounce with the same buoyancy when they landed. The sight of the rippling bodies ahead of him was just too much.

Of course, Mack just wouldn’t let it be, completely misinterpreting the situation, He put an arm around Emerson’s shoulders. “Dude if you want to join all you gotta do is ask,” He turned around with Emerson still under his arm, looking at the crowd. “That goes for all of you. If you guys want to take a quick break and play, all you gotta do is ask.” Mack’s fingers lightly played on Emerson’s chest. Emerson silently giggled; the sensation tickled—actually tingled a bit.

“Yo guys! Some of the fresh meat is going to come play with you for a bit.” Emerson got the feeling Mack didn’t even know these other students and was just doing as he pleased. Mack gave Emerson a kind shove, as the college students on the court cheered him on.  A few students also made their way over to the courts. Emerson begrudgingly took off his shoes and socks and rolled up his blue jeans. He was glad he’d only worn a white graphic T-shirt today, no need to roll that up.

The college students cheered as he stepped on to the court along with the other future freshman.  Some parents gave exasperated sighs, like they couldn’t believe the tour was stopping. Mack just ignored them all, cheering on his group of students. The college kids on the court intermingled with the freshmen and divided them up evenly.

Somehow Emerson was stuck with serving the ball first. A pain in the ass. He got the basic concept of volleyball, but he had never played a game before in his life. Thankfully one of the college girls kindly told him to toss the ball up and hit it over to the other side.  Emerson released the ball up into the air and as it came back down, he prepared to hit it. He balled one of his hands into a fist, dug his feet into the ground and swung his open palm— completely missing and throwing off his center of gravity sending him face first into the sand. Emerson was so mortified, college hadn’t even started, and he’d branded himself a loser.

He was content to lay in the sand moping, but one of the shirtless college guys came over helping him back up.  Emerson did his best not to stare at the dude’s chest as he was doing for the girls. He didn’t want to be disrespectful, but the guy’s pecs were just full out there in his face. The guy lifted Emerson up by the arm and Emerson swore he felt another tingle pass through. He didn’t know what was up with the static electricity on this campus, but the people needed to start using dryer sheets or something.

“Good try, Good try!” Mack clapped his hands from behind the group. “Give it another shot!”

Hearing that ticked Emerson off a bit. He didn’t even want to be here, and Mack was one sentence away from saying “Give it the old college try.” Emerson hated that line his grandfather used to say it a lot, always leaving Emerson confused. But ever since he came to the conclusion college wasn’t for him, trying anything at college seemed pointless. Of course, his parents would argue college is where a person could truly find who they want to be.

“So, what you want to do is not put your whole body into the swing, just your arm.” Emerson tuned to listen to the college student that had graciously picked him back up.

“Thank you.” He sheepishly muttered, He waited for the other freshman to laugh, but no one did. They just wanted him to serve the ball. Taking a deep breath, Emerson served the ball in the air and hit it over the net. The moment he connected with the ball a wave of energy shot back into him, vibrating his muscles along the way as it traveled through his body. Emerson didn’t have much time to think about it because bodies started scrambling when the ball was hit back.

Emerson never thought he’d get so invested in a sports game. Instead of logging onto Twitch, or watching a YouTube video, he was out here in the dry sun, playing with other teenagers. There was something so mesmerizing about getting invested collectively in winning a physical activity. Though none of his enjoyment made him better at playing. He frequently dove for the ball or went to hit it back only to fail miserably. But no one was laughing, everyone on the court was just having fun. Every time Emerson would dive for the ball his impact with the sand got heavier and heavier as the dents he’d leave grew bigger. Every mishap, every failed attempt was a pound of muscle added to his body. Picking himself off the sand got tougher as he was no longer lifting his scrawny body. He’d unknowingly developed a healthy layer of muscle.

Half an hour passed before Mack finally told them it was time to continue the tour. They still had to take the parents back and continue on. Most of the parents had glares fixed on Mack who was happily oblivious.  From a watcher’s perspective, the game had truly been awful; it seemed none of the freshmen had been gifted at volleyball. Emerson knew it was a bit of a sour note, but he’d had so much fun and judging by the other kids who participated they did too. He stepped out of the sand box and wiped off the sand. The college guys patted him on the back saying, “Good job Emerson.”  Emerson wasn’t sure when he told these big guys his name or when they got so touchy feely, but he wasn’t against it. The girls also said goodbye, but one of them made it a point to talk over and brush sand out of Emerson’s curls. He was too flustered to notice as she brushed it, she was styling it too. His curls gathered in the center as his mop of hair was reduced, to a nice curly do.  When she got all the sand out, she gave a flirty goodbye.

Emerson bent over to roll his jeans back down, as he unfurled them, he got to a point where there wasn’t anything left. Which was impossible because they were stopping at his shins. Emerson had been a proud 5’7 for most of his life, but now his pants were refusing to cover him up? When he stood up, not only were his pants not fitting, but they were sort of tight all over. Moving was kind of stiff. Not only that, but Emerson could also see the outline of his cock, very visible, And erect against his waist. Before he had a chance to adjust himself, the kind college kid that had instructed him how to serve the ball came over.

“Hey, once you’re back on campus. How about you hit me up sometime? Name’s Leonard.” The guy grabbed his hand then held it like they were doing a bro shake, but the dude had actually stuffed a piece of paper into Emerson’s hand. Words were stuck in Emerson’s throat had this dude just give out his number. Emerson’s cock throbbed. It was too fucking obvious. Emerson’s pants were so tight not only did the cock visibly move, it stretched the fabric making a slight sound. Leonard’s eyes immediately flew to it, no hesitation. Emerson wanted to hide away but it was the shade of red that Leonard’s face became that stopped him. Leonard tried to cover the bottom half of his face, but his shoulders were going red too.

Emerson thought it was actually adorable watching the big guy trying to hide his blush. “Anyway,” Léonard continued, turning away, “we can meet up and maybe do something you like next time.” Léonard rushed off to join the rest of his friends walking away. Emerson stood there in shock. Then realizing he wasn’t alone, looked at the other freshman and parents. No one was paying attention to him. They were all off having their own little conversations.

Mack clasped his hands gathering everyone’s attention, “Okay, gotta be honest that game sucked. But I’m proud of all of you that participated. And maybe volleyball isn’t your thing, but that’s okay, hopefully you’ll find what is. That’s what college is about after all finding out who you are and what you want to be. So, try everything.”

Emerson grunted listening to the speech, he was trying to tuck his erection away to make it less noticeable, but his pants refused to cooperate. He had the bright idea to unbutton his jeans, but then they refused to snap back as if his waist had gotten wider in the time, he had it undone. Emerson was over it; he simply pulled his shirt down over it and zipped his pants, hoping no one would call it out. The group started to walk away, and Emerson tailed after them.

There was a point to what Mack had been saying: college was about finding yourself. The problem was Emerson wasn’t sure he wanted to be anybody. He knew that he’d probably even hold out with his undecided major for as long as he could.  College was a realm and space people needed, but perhaps not him. He was content with coasting through life. But was that really living?  He had to admit though he often blamed his parents for making him go to college, His own self doubt was the driving factor of going to college. Nothing more than FOMO his (fear of missing out) creeping up on him.

The group made their way into one of the university’s cafeterias. It was time for lunch, then for the parents to leave. Thank god for that because a few of the parents seemed ready to choke their oblivious host. Emerson sent a text and was lucky enough to find Bernardo already munching down. The two started catching up on their tours so far.

“What, he let you guys play volleyball?!” Bernardo put his sandwich down. “My tour guide wouldn’t shut up about the teachers she hated.”

“Shhh!!! Not so loud,” Emerson put a finger over his lips. “I’m not even sure if he was supposed to do it.”

“Well, damn how come you get to live in a bisexual paradise with beach babes and dudes. I want to play with beautiful girls too.” Bernardo pretended to whine, dramatizing his sentence.

“Yeah, yeah you big baby.”

Bernardo stopped and the two shared a good laugh. “Hey? How come you’ve got the boys locked up today.”

“Boys?” Emerson raised an eyebrow lost.

Bernardo motioned at Emerson’s chest. Emerson didn’t get it at all. Sighing, Bernardo reached over, put his hands on the side of Emerson’s collar, and pulled. A tear ran down the middle as Emerson’s chest was on display. Emerson shoved him off, “Dude what the fuck?”

“What, you’re the one, who says you hate wearing small shirts. I could tell your chest needed some release in that thing.”

“So, what you’re the pec whisperer now?”

 Bernardo smiled. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Emerson was expecting himself to get angrier, to boil a bit more with rage, but he could never hate Bernardo, even if he did love the shirt he had on. The more he thought about it the more he found himself agreeing. He did hate shirts that were too tight, especially at the chest. Having grown up together Bernardo was pretty in-tune to knowing when to help Emerson out. The cool cafeteria air hit his pecs and Emerson soaked it in.

“Damn dude you should have let those puppies out earlier. I can feel them radiating heat over here.” Bernardo finally took a bite out of his sandwich.

“Nah, it’s just because of the volleyball sesh earlier,” Emerson chuckled. “The sun was cooking me.”

“Sesh? Since when have we ever used that word, other than when we’re online?” Bernardo chuckled.

Emerson ignored it, but it was a good question. Volleyball had been fun earlier, but he definitely knew it wasn’t for him now, but maybe he would join another game in the fall.

When lunch ended the parents were gone, especially the ones stuck with Mack. They were resolute in leaving the college as soon as possible after lunch. Mack happily got his students all together. He was ready to give a big ol’ speech when his phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket looking at the message. His eyes went wide.

“OH shoot! Guys, I’m so sorry for this, but I just got a message that a project my group has been working on isn’t done yet. I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to take you guys to the classrooms, maybe stop in on some, but we just have to go tomorrow. Guys feel free to lead yourselves around. You see something you want to do, try it out.” With that Mack took off running.

Emerson and the rest of the freshmen were left in stunned silence.

“Did that really just happen?” A girl said.

“Fuck yeah we can do whatever now!”

“Maybe we should continue on with the activity that says we should do an ice breaker.”

“Eff that I’m going to take a nap.” Someone else said before walking away.

 The group dispersed before Emerson even got his own words in. His phone vibrated in his pocket.  There was a text that read, ‘You’re late.’ He didn’t know the number, but it did look familiar. The answer popped into his head. He retrieved the business card he had received earlier, and the number matched perfectly. “How did you get my number dude?” he texted back angrily.

“We’re at the humanities building, get there now.” The text read back. Emerson trudged across campus determined to give the guy a piece of his mind but as he approached, he saw a crew of people moving various equipment around. “Thank god, he’s here folks.” Mr. Kasi walked up grabbing Emerson by the wrist.

“What’s going on?”

“What’s going on? This photo shoot was your idea. How can you be late?”  The man carried his camera preciously in one hand leading Emerson with the other. Are all College 2nd years as high maintenance as you?”

Emerson had no idea what the man was saying, he certainly wasn’t a sophomore. And a photo shoot was beyond ridiculous. “Wait I’m not—

A flash went off blinding him. He tried to speak again but another flash and click of the camera silenced him. There were people blowing fans that drowned out his voice, but got his hair flowing majestically.

“We talked about this stand up straight. Face the camera.” Mr. Kasi shouted over the sounds of his camera, firing off. Emerson slowly did as told. “That’s it, make the camera work for you.” Mr. Kasi encouraged him.

“What else?” Emerson knew they had mistaken him for someone but decided to go along with it for now. The crew got picture after picture of him as Emerson while he posed.  A slight smirk grew on his face as he realized he was pretty good at it, though whenever he saw the tour groups or struggling college students his face would turn a shade of red. They’d stop and gawk for a while to see what was going on then move along. Time was slipping away like butter as the sun began to set, casting its familiar orange hue.

“Okay that’s a wrap!” Mr. Kasi called out.

Emerson jolted when he heard that. He had sort of gone on auto pilot after a while. Mr. Kasi’s voice had shocked him back. Pose after pose left his muscles a bit sore, felt like his muscles were straining against this outfit now. He was ready to call it a day, modeling was exhausting. Thankfully the college had dorm rooms prepared for the incoming freshmen for the upcoming weekend. Emerson had checked it out before the tour day began; his first impression was: It was alright. Nothing too fancy, plain white sheets and a thin blue blanket. But now thinking back to that bed was the one place he wanted to be.

The crew was quickly dispersing, and Emerson was ready to leave, right before his phone vibrated from a text message. Thinking it was Bernardo, Emerson pulled out his phone ready to reply. Instead, what was on his phone wasn’t a message but an alert telling him that he had a gig at the drawing studio.

“What the?” he started to say but the alert buzzed his phone again and Emerson started walking to the studio.  He couldn’t remember anything that he had to do at the studio. Not like he was in the art program. His artistic skills were mediocre at best. Still, he walked into the studio, finding a class gathered around with giant sketch pads on easels.

“Finally, it’s about time.” A female professor with her hair in a bun stepped up from the side. “Everyone get ready, we’re going to get our model ready, then we can start our life drawing.” She pulled Emerson away from the college students taking out their utensils. “Thank you for volunteering to do this. Finding models for the summer art courses is difficult enough. You’re really helping us out with this.” She smiled then gently shoved him forward.

Emerson stumbled as he went into the middle of the room where a single chair was present. The students were eyeing him like an animal at the zoo. Emerson got the feeling they were waiting for him to do something, but he was completely at a loss.

“Well, don’t be shy. You can undress as you feel ready.” The professor smiled.

Confused, Emerson slowly removed his ripped shirt.  He was starting to get the picture. They clearly wanted him to model.  He sat shirtless on the chair. His back pressed against the cold wood. That’s when the professor started droning onto her class about capturing the anatomy, translating from eye to hand. It went over Emerson’s head, and he tuned it out.

Now that Emerson could take a moment to think. He realized the entire room was cold. A nice change from the heat outside. Pencils began to sketch along paper as students began to copy his pose. There was a nice mixture of guys and girls that were paying attention to him. He went to move but got a very stern glare. The teacher wanted him to hold the pose for at least 3 mins so the class could do warm up gestures.  Then they would move on to 20 mins.

Sucking his teeth Emerson continued to sit in the chair. He was lucky he’d started with a basic pose but how was he going to hold more? Was this what college life was going to classes and volunteering to help out professors?  Volleyball hadn’t been his thing and maybe modeling wasn’t either. Emerson was so into his own head he didn’t even realize when he stood up and slid his pants down kicking them off to the side.

 

The girls let out whistles and one of the boys clapped. Emerson’s face went red when he realized his pants were too far away to casually put back on. He stood awkwardly trying to cover his bulge.

 

“As you guys are drawing the model, I want you to tell me what is standing out to you.” The professor walked around the circle of students studying their progress. “What are you enjoying, what are you having difficulty with? How are you capturing his essence?”  She smiled when one of the male students raised his hand. “Ah yes, Ramses what are you getting?”

A black kid with a backwards baseball cap, probably in Mack’s social group, put his pencil back on the page “What I’m enjoying is drawing this dude’s ass and bulge. I was going to cheat and use two circles when connecting the figure to his hips but as I sketch, I’m finding he needs a bit of a box shape because his ass has muscle in it.” The professor stepped behind Ramses nodding her head to his analysis. “As for the front I want to portray the heaviness that I’m seeing so that the weight is translated in 2D.”

 Emerson felt a tingle as he heard Ramses’ sketching get louder and more purposeful. A few students got out of their seats to join the professor in watching Ramses translate Emerson to 2D. Emerson’s ass swelled, getting perky and more elevated as the seconds rolled by. The blue boxer-briefs he had put on that day were a terrible choice as they began to disappear between his massive cheeks. While everyone was focused on Ramses, Emerson made sure to free himself of the resulting wedgie. If that wasn’t bad enough his giant bulge was always an attention seeker. And Ramses had just drawn attention to it, though the students seemed more interested in Ramses’ version of it. Emerson unfortunately couldn’t see it, but every time he heard the pencil glide across the page his nuts got heavier as his cock lengthened along his inner thigh. His bulge left nothing to the imagination anymore.

“I noticed something too Mrs. Fran.” A female student called out to the professor. The student was slouched in her chair, sliding her falling glasses back on with her finger. Her hair was tied in a ponytail though her free hand was twirling a loose strand. Opposed to Ramses she had a colored pencil in her hand.

Mrs. Fran happily walked over as students returned to their seats leaving Ramses to continue working on his piece. “Go Jessica, tell us what you’re noticing.”

“Well to start, his height. I did a few rough drafts for practice measurements, but he was bigger than I imagined. So, to make sure everything falls into place I’m doing it again.”

Emerson shot up an inch in height as the girl talked. Unlike Ramses, her sketching was so light he barely heard anything hit the page, but Mrs. Fran was impressed.

“And I think he has to be at least 5ft 10?” She turned to Emerson for an answer.

“No, At least 5ft 11?” Someone shouted. Jessica quickly erased something and re-sketched.

The whole scene was quite funny. He was only 5ft 7 his whole high school life. Maybe he was a big 5’7 but not much beyond that. His silent chuckle went unheard as he went up another inch. The students needed to get their eyesight checked.

Another student’s voice rang out “I think his lean figure makes it easy to keep everything in proportion. Even with all his muscles, capturing the anatomy on paper is quite simple as you can easily see the muscle groups.”

“Great observation, Olive.” Mrs. Fran smiled. The class went quiet as they all started to focus more on Emerson. The class passed with Emerson listening to the class comment on his body as he did nothing but pose. When class was over, the professor invited him to look at everyone’s artwork. Not that she needed to, everyone was calling at him trying to get his opinion. Though Emerson had to see Ramses’ sketches first. The guy had indeed drawn great sketches, but they were more akin to young Greek statues, if not for the boxer briefs the subject had on. Not to mention off to the sides of the paged Emerson could see where Ramses had practiced drawing his waist, specifically his ass and crotch. Though Emerson was not a fan of the hair Ramses had decided to draw on his legs. Nor the small treasure trail that led to slight pubic hair spilling over the waistband of his underwear. Emerson wasn’t hairy at all, never had been. As if to confirm it for himself he checked his body. Only to find exactly what Ramses had drawn, there was hair down there.

‘Jarring’ was the only word Emerson could think of. Why wouldn’t he have hair on his lower body, most boys who went through puberty did. Next up was Jessica. She was shoving her art in his face, for a meek girl she was very eager to get Emerson’s review.

“Wow,” Emerson said in a low whisper. Jessica had captured a few main poses, but she also took time to quickly sketch the moments when Emerson had stretched. They weren’t detailed drawings like the poses, but they certainly accentuated his height. After that Emerson was swarmed by everyone. He took out his phone and snapped a few picks, sending them to Bernardo.

When the class had left it was 9pm. Emerson was exhausted and ready to head out. All the students had left with the professor. While he remained to put his clothes back on. One problem though: They weren’t fitting. Emerson thought his clothes had looked exceptionally tiny when he picked them up. His feet were too large to even slip into one of the pants holes. He held up his clothes again. Had someone swapped them out with kid’s clothes? Cause he didn’t see how he ever got them on before. Also, one of the art students had spilled black paint on his jeans and a shirt. A moot point since it no longer worked.

Huffing, Emerson sat down on a chair in his underwear, clothes bundled up on his waist. He tried to put his shoes back on, but just like with his pants his feet refused to go in. The pair were small as well. Emerson angrily snatched one of his shoes up, this couldn’t be happening. No way his shoes AND clothes didn’t fit. He didn’t walk in stripped down. The tongue of his shoe revealed it was indeed size US9 as it should have been. With one last try Emerson rammed his foot into the shoes, forcing it open. He closed his eyes as he tried to force more of it in. Emerson never saw it, but his shoe gave way and accepted the larger foot. As the toes and his sole pushed through, the shoe grew to accommodate it. Reforming as a size 13. Emerson clapped his hands when he was able to get both shoes on unfettered.

“There we go. Just took a bit of elbow grease.” He stood up. But now he was just an incoming freshman in his underwear and shoes. He was going to run back to the dorms and not get caught. Taking a quick peak outside the studio, he didn’t see a single person. One deep breath, his clothes in his hands, Emerson was out the door sprinting. As he ran, he was reminded that there were students that loved to streak on a dare. That couldn’t be him, but maybe college wasn’t so bad. He’d had a hell of a first day after all.

The moment he slammed the door to the door. He laid his back against the door, breathing.

“There you are! Where have you been? Haven’t you seen my text.”  Bernardo came out into the hallway from the room he was staying at for this weekend.  Then he looked down. “Why are you in your underwear?”

“I got busy. With this college stuff.”

Bernardo rolled his eyes. “How? I had the same boring tours you did. There really wasn’t much to it, but I didn’t see you when it ended. Also doesn’t answer the clothes question. Emerson sighed, deciding to just tell his friend how he got roped into a photo shoot then mistaken for a model for the art department. There was a moment of silence before Bernardo burst out laughing.

“Okay, either you’re having the best college life already or you’re messing with me.”

“Why would I joke about this? It hasn’t exactly been fun.”

“How has it not been fun? Let’s review what you told me. You got to play volleyball. Got a phone number. Then, you got mistaken for a model, and then people wanted to draw your body. That really is just the worst.” Bernardo said dryly.

Emerson’s face went red when his best friend said it like that his complaints did seem a bit unreasonable. He was sure there was another reason he was stressed about what was going on. He just couldn’t place his finger on it. Emerson went and hung his clothes up in the vacant closet. He didn’t want to risk any of the black paint getting on any of his other clothes. Sighing he kicked off his shoes and hopped into bed exhausted.

The next morning, Emerson woke up to the alarm going off on his phone. Reaching over to grab it he groaned. He happened to notice is cock was pitching a tent under his sheets. A smile grew on his lips. He reached down to shake it back and forth. Something had really got him in the mood. Before he could do anything about his dick his alarm went off.

“Alright, alright”! Emerson threw off the covers and his comforter. He was supposed to go meet Mack today and the rest of the tour group, after breakfast. Getting up from bed he did a quick stretch looking around the room. Something about it felt off. Was it his TV, his video game posters? He put his hand on his chin. It really shouldn’t have been that difficult. This was his room for the summer while he attended class. Why couldn’t he place what was wrong. Shrugging it off He went to take a shower. When he got out and put on fresh underwear he went for the clothes in his closet, but only one outfit was hanging up.  A black dress shirt and black slacks.

—

“There you are! How hard were you sleeping?” Bernardo asked as Emerson approached on the outside quad. Ignoring the sense of déjà vu Emerson calmly sipped the coffee in his hand. “I was knocking on your door to head to breakfast and you never came out.” Then Bernardo stopped talking to stare at Emerson. “You look different…but I don’t know why.”

“You think I look different? I guess interning at a modeling agency does that to people.”

“Yeah… yeah I guess you’re right.” Bernardo scratched his head as if he almost didn’t believe what Emerson was saying. It seemed obvious if someone worked as a model, they’d probably pick up a few tricks for looking good. That just happened to be Emerson’s college life. The groups started to pair off again to complete the day’s activities. Bernardo kept stealing glances even as he walked away.

 

Emerson was just about done with his coffee, when a hand clapped him on the back, causing him to choke on the last sip. Mack was there with a big smile on his face. “Dude what hell?”

“I’m so proud of you man! Not every freshman can do it, but I knew you’d start to find yourself here.” Mack’s positivity was infectious and overbearing. Emerson couldn’t see himself staying angry with Mack but also needed to disappear into the group today. However, Mack wrapped his arm around Emerson’s neck happily dragging him along until they met up with their group. Even then Emerson couldn’t escape Mack’s grasp.

“Alright guys gather up,” Mack said as the other freshman closed in around them. “I want you guys to meet my buddy Emerson here.”

Emerson rolled his eyes; they already knew who he was.

“He’s a sophomore here. Didn’t take him long to get into the spirit of this place. But I see the rest of you guys aren’t as eager. That’s okay. No rush, no judgment. We all move at different paces. You got 4 years after all.”

The sophomore comment caught Emerson off guard; he wasn’t a sophomore. He was an incoming freshman like the group. Mack however didn’t let the comment settle because he was leading them all towards the campus buildings. Mack was finally giving more of an official tour so Emerson was tuning him out at parts though Mack was jokingly begging his group not to tell the administrators he ditched them to finish homework.

They arrived at Landon Hall. Mostly dedicated to business classes but a variety of subjects were taught there, Spanish, psychology, philosophy. Emerson had heard the speech so many times he could give the tour himself. Mack then tried to open the door to the building before continuing his speech, discovering they were locked, once they wouldn’t budge.

“That’s right,” Mack tapped his head with a grunt. “They lock the buildings on weekends, and you have to swipe your student id to get in. Sorry about that guys.” Then he snapped his fingers “Emerson, can I use yours?”

Without even thinking,  Emerson pulled out his wallet, walked up to the card reader and swiped. There was a beep as the reader turned from red to green and the doors unlocked. While the students heard the doors unlocking, Emerson was focused on the twinge he felt after opening the door. Perhaps he was the one to blame for all the static electricity, but as he stepped into the building, he felt a sensation all over his body. Walking into the school of business had  his whole-body tingling.

Mack continued his tour speech as they walked along the first-floor of the hall. This was the part where the student tour guides explained all the other classes that were taught in the building besides business. Emerson followed the group way in the back one again. He was staring into classrooms. First, Mack listed off the various introductory classes, for Spanish, French sociology, psychology, philosophy, then he started listing off the advanced classes. Emerson’s body stretched upward as they made their way through. Mack’s words stuck in his head and stayed in his body. Emerson could almost picture himself attending the classes Mack was listing. The kinds of people that attended business classes. The type of men that gave lectures in this very building. Probably powerful confident men. He wondered if he was the only one noting the ceiling was getting closer and closer every floor they went up. By the time the group was heading up to the 4th floor, Emerson heard his pants rip going up the stairs. Thankfully he was the last in line so no one else noticed and kept going. He had to stop as his tanned olive ass was on display, as if auditioning for an all you can eat cake buffet.

The cool air danced against his bare buns. Emerson sighed His thighs and glutes had put so much strain that his pats couldn’t take it and now he was exposed. If that wasn’t bad enough feeling the air meant his underwear had a tear as well. Emerson awkwardly made his way up the steps, and his pants began to reconstitute themselves. When he met up with the group, Emerson realized he could see over everyone’s head and directly see Mack. Mack caught him staring and winked.

“Looks like this building matches well with some of you.” Mack laughed moving forward. The freshman looked around confused. “I was more of a Humanities building guy myself.”

Emerson also felt a small smirk on his lips. He could actually remember running into a freshman Mack lost in Landon Hall. Following the group Emerson could feel his chest swelling outward as his pecs protruded. The collar button on the top of his shirt popped off. Emerson was confused how he remembered Mack as a freshman? Emerson was a freshman himself. As he walked behind the group, he pulled out his wallet. Opening it up he found the student ID that Mack had used to get into the building. For some reason the ID stated he was in his fourth year, a Senior. Which made sense he was a year above Mack, but at the same time something about it felt off.

When they finally got to the 5th and final floor, Mack stopped staring into a classroom. He gave a little whisper. “Okay little peeps listen up; You guys are looking at the rarest of all: summer Saturday classes.” As if talking on a nature documentary Mack spoke in a whisper, then did a little shiver like he was disgusted. He tiptoed toward the open door then waved his tour group over. Everyone followed Mack’s lead peering in as a lot of the students in class looked over at the freshman. There were about 30 seats, but half of them were empty with students scattered about the room.

“ I really hope that Mr. Miller isn’t spying on my class.” A strong voice came out. As a man walked over to the door, arms crossed with a smile on his face.

“Well, you know how it is, Professor Garcia. I wanted to show off some of the classrooms.”

Professor Garcia nodded with a fake understanding. “Yes, but the fact that you’re here today means you didn’t do it yesterday, right? Didn’t something like this happen during the winter semester too.” By the laugh that was on the edge of his lips with every word he spoke it was clear he wasn’t scolding Mack just gently mocking.

“It’s not my fault, I just get really busy.” Mack rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh-Huh.” Professor’s Garcia’s eyes scanned the group, he kept his friendly smile but didn’t say much else to them. “ Why don’t you let your group step inside for a moment. We were just about to wrap up.”

“Really that’s awesome!” Mack waved his group to come in as the professor made his way back to the podium. There were enough seats for everyone to sit down in. Emerson noted that a lot of the students in class weren’t college aged but had notebooks and book bags nonetheless.

“Well, new students, I want to welcome you all to the university. This is Spanish literature during the Spanish Civil war. Now normally this class is taught in all Spanish but for these last few minutes I think we can make an exception for you all.”

Emerson sat at his desk, as his eyes wandered, to other students, the clock on the wall, Mack, the wall,  the table that was being used as a makeshift teacher’s desk, then back to the professor. Could he do this? Could he sit through 4 more years of school just to get a degree? That thought hung in the air. As Professor Garcia spoke to his class and even called on some of the freshmen to ask if they knew anything about the Spanish civil war. A few times he’d speak completely in Spanish to throw the students off. Emerson felt a familiar tingle, this time though it wasn’t in his body; It was in his brain. He could already see himself having sat in many classes just like Professor Garcia’s. The man was so warm and gregarious it was infectious. Who wouldn’t want to emulate him? Emerson’s neurons were firing off electric connections rapidly, as new memories of college years gone by were forming. Emerson closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he got a headache. His head was getting stuffed with knowledge.

“And that’s class!” Professor Garcia looked at his watch. Everyone started getting up. Emerson opened his eyes as his headache eased away.  He got up and one of  the students pointed next to his desk. There was a book bag laying on the floor  and a laptop on the desk. Emerson couldn’t believe he was about to forget his stuff. He thanked them as he packed it away, flinging the book bag on his shoulder. While he was preparing to go out, he noticed a pair of glasses on a table next to the podium and pointed them out.

“Those aren’t mine. Perhaps they belong to another professor…” Professor Garcia stopped talking, then slowly picked them up, studying them. “ Unless of course they’re yours?” He held out the glasses. “ Do you want to be a Professor, Emerson?”

“You…know my name?”

“You’ve been in my class all summer. I hope I would know your name by now.”

Emerson mentally slapped himself, duh that answer was obvious. “Right.” He sucked his teeth, “I don’t know. How is anyone supposed to know how they want to spend the rest of their life? It’s just when I saw you up here teaching today my mind clicked. I enjoyed sitting here, but I guess a part of me did think about being up here.” Then he took the glasses out of Professor Garcia’s hand. The professor left patting him on the back with a smile.  Emerson took a moment before putting the glasses on his face. Once they were on, it felt…right. Then there was a loud crack. It was the sound of Emerson’s jaw reforming broader than ever. When he went to inspect his jaw  everything felt fine, except for the bristles his fingers traced across, had he forgotten to shave?

He walked outside joining up with Mack’s group.

“Finally,” Mack said when Emerson came out. The group turned to look at him. Emerson wanted to shrink away, which was impossible with his body size. But Mack didn’t have to put him on the spot. “Anyways,” Mack continued, “I was telling everybody that I was going to be a Spanish major. That’s why I know Professor Garcia so well, but I think speech pathology is more my thing you know.”

“Didn’t see that coming.” Someone whispered.

Mack rolled his eyes “What, you guys think just because I take care of myself, I was going to be into sports and nutrition. Nah there are people who are dedicated and love that stuff. They can have it.” Mack led everyone back outside to the heart of the campus. “Alright guys we can either spend the day doing icebreakers or I can let you guys enjoy your Saturday here?”

When said like that it was obvious what option the incoming freshman would pick and soon, they all dispersed, until it was only Mack and Emerson left.

“Gotta say love the watch, man” Mack leaned over. “ Don’t know what you’re going for, but it pulls your outfit together.”

Emerson didn’t respond. He simply looked at his wrists and sure was sporting a watch on the left one. Well, a man does love to keep track of the time. And a professional like Emerson between modeling and college needed to be prepared. Mack ended up leaving Emerson alone in the courtyard. Emerson decided to take out his laptop. There was a paper for class he could start working on.

Sitting in the quad during the afternoon felt right. Emerson suddenly felt himself belonging. He could see himself spending his days at college. Maybe not behind a student desk though. Professor Garcia was having a much more enjoyable time in his position interacting with students. Perhaps that was what Emerson needed. NO, that was what he needed. As the sun beat down on him Emerson’s olive skin was starting to darken. The tan was forming into a more permanent pigment. The small Spanish that Professor Garcia had spoken was starting to stick in Emerson’s mind more prominently. He had never been an ace at Spanish in high school, but now his mind was translating Professor Garcia’s words with ease. And why wouldn’t it be? Emerson was a proud Argentinian man. Growing up his house was filled with his family speaking Spanish. Perhaps Emerson could do what Professor Garcia did and teach after college. Not Spanish, maybe something like history.

“Hey, there you are!” Bernard said, running up to Emerson. Then he suddenly stopped cocking his head to the side as a confused look appeared on his face. That look disappeared after a few seconds and Bernardo was back to normal. “Almost didn’t recognize you with the glasses.”

“Bernardo, Como te va!” Emerson put away his laptop.

 

 

“Did…did you just speak Spanish to me?”

Emerson paused, “Yeah, why?”

“Um…” Bernardo didn’t answer.

Emerson always spoke in Spanish at Bernardo’s house, Especially with Bernardo’s abuela. It was only at school they tended to speak in English. Didn’t explain why Bernardo was being so weird about it now. Well, whatever he could speak in English. “Let’s go grab some food, I’m starving.”

The two walked towards the campus cafeteria after Emerson slung his backpack over his shoulder. It was only then that Emerson noticed how there was a very noticeable height different from him and Bernardo. Jarring, because he had memories of them both growing up and being roughly 5’6 but now that just didn’t seem right. In fact, hadn’t Emerson always been a giant among his classmates. He was the first to experience puberty and luckily for him the train never stopped. Every year he’d get stronger, taller, and manlier.

Once in the cafeteria they sat, close to the windows. The sunlight’s rays that fell on Emerson’s hair darkened every strand and follicle until the brunette was rocking full on black hair. When they finally got their food, Emerson’s hair was unrecognizable as the one the teen had sported mere moments ago.

“You know, this girl in my group, Gertrude, said that a few of the other freshmen were going out with students on campus.” Bernardo bit into the ribs he grabbed for dinner.

“Gertrude? Who still names their kid Gertrude? That’s like a grandma’s name,” He chuckled. Impressed that Bernardo had made friends. Then again, if Mack had been more attentive with the activities perhaps, Emerson would have known other people too “Where are they going?”

“It’s a club not too far from here. 18 and up soooo…” Bernardo gave a smirk.

“I guess we gotta go too.” Emerson smiled as Bernardo fist pumped. The best friends had settled their plans for tonight.

“Awesome, I’ll let her know we’ll meet up right after we finish with dinner.”

“Do you think I should get change?”

“What for, you already look like you’re ready to party.”

Emerson scoffed at that. It wasn’t his fault if he liked to dress nicely. Professional, was actually the better term. He liked the way the clothes hugged his body tight and displayed the assets he had accumulated over the years. He was a little saddened that Bernardo hadn’t picked up the same habit over the years. Young boys just didn’t appreciate what it took to look like a man. Fashion, grooming, exercise, and nutrition. All vital elements that they’d have to learn.

If there was one thing to say about that night. It’s that Emerson couldn’t remember some of the finer details. Meeting up with the other freshmen, going to the club and even leaving were all a blur. In true college fashion, alcohol found its way into Emerson’s system and the others. His first beer, then cider warmed his throat all the way down. The moment it hit his stomach the strange sensation he’d been getting all weekend returned, like his body was electrified. Though at this moment he truly believed this was the ‘buzz’ people often talked about.  For his first outing he concluded cider was okay, perhaps even beer, but in the future, he’d go with something with a more refined taste. Wine, champagne, whiskey, scotch, he felt like he couldn’t go wrong with either.

The thing Emerson could recall was seeing the girl from the volleyball game yesterday approach him in the club, introducing herself. But Emerson wouldn’t be able to recall a single thing about it. She danced with him with the music blaring and pink and blue lights going wild on the dance floor. The lights would constantly fade in and out giving an almost strobe-like effect. Then a muscular arm wrapped itself around Emerson’s neck, gently pulling him back. He was shocked but it was a very gentle choke hold.  His face was brought closer to the person behind him and that’s when he recognized Leonard. He could smell the alcohol on the other guy’s breath.

“Damn you got big,” Leonard whispered sensually in his ear. Emerson realized Leonard had a point. The only reason their faces were close now was because Leonard was making him lean back, but in actuality Emerson at 6’6” had a few inches on Leonard. It hadn’t been that way yesterday, but Emerson wasn’t focused on that. He was reveling in the warmth of Leonard’s body and Leonard’s breath against his skin. Not to mention the girl, what was her name Freida, Isabella? Emerson couldn’t even care as she rubbed up on him. Emerson was sandwiched between two hot people. His hard cock became as visible as a log and strained against his pants.

“I’m going to kiss you know if that’s okay.” Leonard whispered, before turning Emerson’s head and locking their lips. Lenard quickly pulled away laughing.

“Was it bad?” Emerson asked

 “No, it’s just your beard is ticklish.” Leonard smiled.

 Beard? He didn’t have a beard, maybe a few whiskers but a full on—Leonard cut off his train of thought by kissing him again. Then Leonard free hand touched the side of his face, passing along his cheek, then yes! His beard. Clearly Emerson had simply forgotten to shave his beard that morning. It tended to grow quickly. No time to think about that. The moment Leonard stopped kissing him, Isa-whatsit leaned on him to kiss. She took over the front, while Leonard handled the back. Soon Leonard’s hand was cupping Emerson’s ass playing with it. Emerson hear his pants unzip as a fucking leaking brown missile stuck out of his pants. Meanwhile Leonard’s hand had snuck under Emerson’s pants and into his underwear to play with his ass. 

The alcohol, the girl, the guy, so much for Emerson to take. So much for him to love and enjoy. Yes, if this is what college had to offer, he’d take it. His mind and body were trying to process it all. He wondered how nice it would be if he didn’t have to sneak around to have all this fun. Surely a man like Professor Garcia didn’t have to sneak around to have this kind of fun. That’s what Emerson craved.

Emerson did get home eventually, knowing it must have been Bernardo who helped him, but once his head the pillow he was out.

—

At 10:00 am on Monday morning Emerson’s alarm went off. Of course, he was already up. In his eyes a man was never late. He could barely remember what he did the night before. Though he could’ve sworn it was Saturday. Had he partied so hard that he slept through Sunday. Didn’t matter, he still had to get ready. He threw on his signature black dress shirt and black pants. Grabbing his glasses their black frame shifted to a thin gold as the lenses darkened, now proper sunglasses. He walked out of his bedroom and downstairs to his kitchen to make breakfast. For some reason walking around in his own house felt off.  That’s what happens’ when you party too hard, but for a man like Emerson everyone wanted a piece of him. 

At 11:00 AM Emerson was sitting at his desk in the lecture hall as students started to pile in. He was going to have quite a bit of freshman this semester. The sounds of sneakers and young adults bustling went on as the clock ticked on. They came in droves throwing their book bags down. All eager to start the first day of the school year. Of course, some mouths dropped as expected when they saw who their professor was. Emerson Romero, famous model on the cover of men’s health and fitness magazines. Though there were some faces that Emerson recognized this year. Bernardo Delarosa, a new freshman, and son of his former neighbors. He gave the kid a slight wave. Then there was Leonard Fryzel, sophomore, one of his students last year. There was also a girl, rather a young lady, that he recognized but couldn’t remember which class she was from.

When class was over the students emptied out quickly. Meanwhile Emerson took leisurely time packing up and strolling outside, then breathed in the morning air. He sighed to himself he should have told the students, the freshman at least, to take the time to enjoy college. There was a lot to love here, and if they could learn and experience it all. It could be overwhelming, but it also could have some positive impacts. Emerson knew he was a glowing example of that. This college helped him become the man he was destined to be. The students here were going to enjoy the next 4 years discovering themselves.