The guy smiled and said it wasn't a big deal, but Harlan went down on his knees to pick up all his books anyway. And when he was on the floor, he couldn't help noticing the guy's legs. They were covered with a soft layer of dark blond hair and you could actually see his thigh muscles pop and flex above his knees. His red shorts gathered near his crotch and made his dick round out. Evidently, he wasn't wearing underwear that day. You could see his thick cock to the right of the center seam; the outline of the head formed a visible ring. This was the thick, dangerous, meaty fuck rod Harlan had been reading about in trashy porn magazines since he'd turned thirteen. It was the kind of dick that made those unattractive older gay men who read pretentious gay literature instead of graphic gay erotica and spoke with quasi-British accents, bite the erasers on their number two pencils. And more than that, it was also the nice, sweet, gentle penis Harlan had been dreaming about all his life.

When Harlan stood and handed him the books, the guy looked him in the eye and said, "Thanks, man. I was just on my way to the bathroom." His voice was deep and throaty, and he spoke with a New York accent. He gave Harlan a long, intense look, scratched his dick a couple of times and tilted his head toward the men's room door.

Harlan's eyebrows went up, and he clenched his fists. Then he swallowed back hard and said, "Ah well, sorry I knocked into you like that." His voice was soft and slow; he almost choked on his words.

"It's all good, man," the guy said. "I'll see you around." He scratched his dick again and looked Harlan up and down. He stared at Harlan's lips and licked his own. Then he loped to the other side of the lobby to the men's room. When he opened the door, he looked back at Harlan, tilted his head toward the inside of the bathroom a couple of times, and crossed through.

The dorms were empty on Saturday afternoons, and there was no one else in the lobby. Harlan stood there staring at the bathroom door for a few seconds, and then he took a deep breath and followed the guy inside. When he passed through the doorway, he heard someone clear his throat in the last stall. It smelled like peppermint disinfectant and urine. He knew it had to be the guy with the hairy legs clearing his throat. So he crossed to the next-to-the-last stall, pushed the door open and went inside. His hands were on the verge of shaking and his heart was racing. And when he looked down and saw that there was a hole in the wall right next to the toilet paper dispenser, he nearly choked on his own saliva. The hole was the size of a small grapefruit, and he could see the guy's hairy legs in the next stall. He was sitting on the toilet. His shorts were down around his ankles and his knees were spread apart.