Quarantine Relief
I ended up giving relief to one of the basketball players in the dorm at the beginning of the pandemic. If you've got the time, I'll tell you the story.
I'm Martinez, but most people call me Marty. I'm 43 and Latino standing 5'5" tall and 180 pounds. I'm toned, but have a bit of softness to my body... not quite chubby. I have long hair that I usually wear in a ponytail or bun. I wear glasses and a mustache that's starting to go gray.
Some would say I have a "womanly" body with thighs and hips... and a bubble butt.
I've always had sedentary desk jobs, and I'm not really the type to hit the gym all the time either.
Back in 2018 I'd lost my job working in corporate for one of the big freight/delivery companies, so I decided to go back to school to get my PhD through a program at same university I'd went to for undergrad and graduate school.
I was really stuck in a rut in life.
At 43 I'd never been married or had children. Well, for one because I'm gay, but also because I've always been more of a recluse.
Sure, I'd had grindr and craigslist hookups, but never a real relationship or many friendships either.
In my earlier years I'd always been a shy kid---even through college, I was never the "hang out with friends" type.
My senior year in undergrad, I roomed with Cruz, one of the most popular people at our college. We'd lived in one of those 4 bedroom/4 bath apartments on campus with 2 other students. We each had our own room but shared the living room and kitchen.
Cruz ran track and always had track friends over for parties. Through the closed door I could often hear the muffled music, laughs, and action happening on the other side, but I never joined.
I got an internship with FedEx the spring of my Senior year, and stayed with the company through obtaining my master's degree, then came on full time after graduation. I'd applied to my universities PhD program, but decided to accept FedEx's full-time offer.
21 tears later, they fired me.
Well, they laid me off, actually...
They laid me off with a nice severance package and the opportunity to do something new.
It was 2018 and I had a nice little nest egg, so I went about 6 weeks without even looking for work, but then I got bored out of my fucking mind.
I'd received an advertisement via email inviting post-grad alumni to continue their education through a hybrid program where you'd work for the university while simultaneously getting your PhD.
This sounded awesome!
I signed up for one of the online orientations, applied, and was accepted...they even hooked me up with housing!
...but there was a catch: I'd act as a "Dorm Coordinator."
Johnson Hall was a rundown dormitory that should've been condemned a long time ago, but acted as a sort of "Overflow" for athletic scholarship students who were freshmen or upperclassmen who weren't top-tier.
The top-tier athletes stayed in a nice dormitory connected to the basketball and football training facilities.
Johnson Hall was where the leftovers were housed.
Basically, I'd be the main contact for repairs, assignments, and making sure the place didn't fall apart.
I accepted the offer.
I moved in a few weeks before freshmen move-in day. While the dormitory was three stories high with a common area on shower accommodations on each floor, I had a 1-bedroom apartment on the first floor that had two entrances: one entrance from the outside and another behind the reception desk. Though I wasn't expected to work the reception desk, it was an additional entrance to my free apartment.
Move-in Day was quite the rollercoaster for me. Not just because of all the action, but the site of these 18-22 year-old athletes.
And the weeks that followed... wow...
There are a couple that stand out:
Rashaad was from Detroit. At 19 years old he was a chocolate Adonis...always walking around the dorm with Nike flip flops and basketball shorts when he wasn't at class or practice...
Just flip flops and black basketball shorts... no shirt... no underwear...
About a month into the first semester Rashaad had approached me in the hallway...
"Yo Marty, there's no hot water on the third floor," he yelled jogging toward me.
His heavy dick swinging from thigh to thigh as he was clearly free balling.