Part 3- Locked in the Closet

By the time I got to college, my sexual feelings had become unbearable. Still I clung to my secret and I took pains to be like the other boys. Whenever the subject of queers came up, I would be one of the first ones to make fun of them. I never stopped to think that those who protested so much might become suspect. Fortunately no one suspected me.

I was taunted by a college roommate who suggested I would like to be sexual with him. I couldn't believe that a straight guy would have been serious. I ignored the innuendo even though I longed for such an encounter. I believed I would be damned and scorned was I to act upon my impulses.

One night I found a message written on a bathroom wall by a guy who indicated that he wanted to have sex. The fellow had a name, “Butch,” and, he was kind enough to provide a phone number. I furtively copied it down, but kept restraining myself from giving into the impulse to call him; eventually, I caved.

I found a private phone booth located in the business school and went there when no one was within sight. Then, sweating bullets, I dialed the number and asked to speak to Butch. I tried to be cool when he came on the line, even though I was squirming in my pants.

He didn't make it easy for me when I said, “I'm calling about the message you left in the student union bathroom.”

He coyly asked me, “Just what did my message say?”

My voice quavered when I whispered the contents of the message, “It said to call you for a B.J.”

I was shaking as I waited for his response, but he purred a question, “What's your name?” I gave him my real first name only.

He then coolly asked me, “Where do you live?”

I was too afraid to tell him my exact address, so I lied. I gave him the address of the dorm next to mine.
Suddenly his voice took on a hateful and angry tone as he snarled at me, “Well, you fag, I'm going to get my rifle and come down to your dorm and give you the blow job of your life when I blow you away!”

I quickly hung up the phone, literally shaking in my shoes from my fear and abject shame. My shame was only compounded when I exited the phone booth. My academic adviser was standing at the adjacent bulletin board, posting notices. Oh my God!

Author Davis Aujourd'Hui

Sister Mary Olga Book Series:
"The Misadventures of Sister Mary Olga Fortitude"
"Babes in Bucksnort"