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Marine Antics in a Locker Room
- Thread starter Hairy_Beast
- Start date
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch 60 Revisit to Bob’s Part II
Skye was stunned. He looked up to see a guy about 5’10 with startlingly blond hair and light blue eyes. He was considerably stockier than Matt, with a square jaw and a slightly mocking mien. Skye realized he hadn’t asked Matt what sport he did, but now he saw that these guys were both wrestlers like him, only smaller and lighter, and that—uncannily—this had to be the Mason that Matt had just referred to. It seemed like some kind of cosmic joke that he would arrive at that precise moment.
“Fuck you, Mason. I’m here doing my own thing. This isn’t about you.”
“Yeah, it’s just that I can’t believe you’re still wearing those.”
“Well, you sure seem interested in my underwear, pal. Fuck off.”
Matt shucked down his briefs and stood naked and defiant with the boxer brief in his hand. Skye would never have been this bold in high school, but he did notice that Matt had reason not to be shy. His cock and balls were more than respectable, and Skye imagined for a moment that there had been mean-spirited joking in the locker room but that Matt, though on the slight side, at least had the equipment not to feel ashamed.
“Aw, take it easy, man. I’m just here trying on stuff.” He turned and seemed to notice Skye for the first time. “Sorry, man. You probably didn’t expect this.”
Skye didn’t answer. He fixed his gaze on Mason and took a step toward Matt, who had pulled on the boxer brief and was readjusting his nuts. Skye asked, “How do they feel?”
Mason was surprised. “You’re with him?”
Matt said, “Yeah. Got a problem?”
Mason looked at Skye’s build and backed down a little, saying nothing but looking from one to the other.
Matt looked at his teammate and said, “It ain’t like that, asshole. Skye works in a department store and I just wanted some advice. Frankly, if you really wanna know, I’m here because I’m sick of the crap you give me about how I dress, so I thought I’d make a change. Happy?”
Skye had imagined Matt being slightly bullied in the locker room, given his previous stories, so he was surprised at the vituperativeness of his comments. Mason just looked down, perhaps finally aware of how hurtful he’d been.
Matt turned to Skye: “These feel pretty good, and I don’t mind the thigh coverage.”
“You’ve got slender legs but they’re muscled so the thigh coverage should be ok. Pouch good?”
“Yup.” Matt grinned as he cupped his balls and then admired himself in the mirror.
Mason had opened up his package of boxers and when Matt glanced up, he saw to his astonishment, a package of tie tea whites partially hidden among the boxer briefs that Mason had chosen.
“Well, well, well, Mr. Hypocrite. What do I see? Those wouldn’t be tie tea whites, would they?”
Mason’s pale skin blushed furiously. He stammered, “I must have picked those up by mistake…”
Matt just looked at him. “Look, dude, you give me all this crap and yet here you are with the same briefs you make fun of. What the fuck, man?”
Mason couldn’t reply.
“Okay, I see… well now that I’ve got some boxer briefs and you might be wearing tie tea whites, maybe you could shut the fuck up about it in the locker room.”
Mason said nothing. Matt continued, “So-o-o.. does this mean you change into tie tea whites at home in the evening?”
Mason gulped, “Usually.”
“So then why do you harass me in the locker room about my underwear?”
“I dunno. Sorry. I’ll stop, ok? Just don’t tell anyone.”
Matt regarded him. Saying nothing more, he slid off his boxer briefs and repackaged them, standing naked. At that point a middle aged man came in with a shirt and some underwear of his own, looked at the naked student, said nothing, and went into one of the two private changing stalls.
Skye felt like Matt had the upper hand, but he also knew the importance of saving face, so he stepped in with, “Listen, dude. I don’t know you but I can tell you that in college, guys wear all different kinds of underwear, and nobody makes fun of anyone else’s choice. That’s a stupid high school thing to do. Guys in my dorm and on the team wear boxer briefs but they also wear just plain briefs, and often boxers for hanging around the dorm, but some don’t even do that.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mason.
“Well, it’ll sound funny but my roommate is a total nudist. Guy never wears clothes in the dorm.”
“Really?!” exclaimed both students simultaneously. Their unintended timing made them laugh slightly.
“Yup,” said Skye. “Took me a while to get used to walking in and having my roommate with no clothes, but it’s no big deal now. So anyway, Mason, I think you’d better live and let live.” Without actually realizing it, Skye had moved a little closer to Matt, a movement that seemed to convey protection for the slimmer guy.
Mason looked chastised and seem to have the epiphany that mocking someone else didn’t actually make him look cool in the eyes of his friends.
“All right,” he said. “Matt, sorry, man. I shouldn’t have been such an asshole. To make it up, I”ll try these tighties on right now, ok?”
Matt kind of smirked. “Well, ok. Let’s see how you feel.”
Mason took off his sneakers and removed his shirt and shorts. He was wearing slightly stretched gray boxerbriefs which he removed unceremoniously. Like his teammate, he stood naked while he opened the briefs package. Skye noted that Mason, too, had a decent cock and balls, and he seemed very much at ease. He pulled on the white Jockey-style shorts and readjusted his sac. “There,” he said to Matt. “Happy now?”
“Yep!”exclaimed Matt. “See? I don’t make fun of you.”
“Ok ok. I said sorry.” Mason gave a little grin that made Skye think that within a year or so, he’d have that winning smile that Kirk had perfected.
Skye turned to Matt: “You wanna try on those trunks?”
“Sure,” responded Matt. He removed his briefs, opened the trunks package and slipped them out. He stepped into them and pulled them up, again readjusting his sac. “These feel a little like briefs but cover my legs. This pouch is amazing. Like a jock but smoother.”
“Yeah,” said Skye. “That’s what I’ve heard. I’ve never had a pair myself.”
He looked over at Mason who was transfixed, staring at Matt. It was clear he had never seen, much less tried on, a pair of trunks. “Wow,” he said, “are those as comfortable as they look?”
“Sure are, man. You should try on a pair. Or maybe, to save time, just try these.” In one swift movement, he pulled off the trunks and tossed them to Mason, who, again one movement, caught the trunks, waistbanded his boxer briefs, and pulled on the trunks. “Thanks, man. Oh fuck. These feel awesome.” He cupped his balls to test the material and then said through gritted teeth: “Oh, fuck, not now.” Next moment the other two guys realized what Mason was going through, and in an effort not to embarrass him, they turned away. Matt grabbed his white briefs, pulled them on, and donned the rest of his clothes.
“Uh, dude,” he said over his shoulder, “I’m gonna need those trunks.”
“Now?” asked the red-faced former bully.
“Yup. No big deal man. We’ve all done that. Just give ‘em to me now. I gotta check out and Skye has better things to do, I’ll bet.”
Trying awkwardly to achieve the impossible task of removing the trunks without revealing his growing erection, Mason realized he had no choice, so he yanked them off and tossed them to Matt, who carefully put them back in their recloseable bag. Mason quickly grabbed his original boxer briefs and pulled them on along with the rest of his clothes. “Uh, thanks… and you won’t…?”
“Hey,” said Matt, “what happens at Bob’s, stays at Bob’s.” And, for the first time feeling power over Mason, he smirked and left the changing room, followed by Skye.
At the counter, Skye noticed the same slender cashier who had checked him out (“In both senses,” Skye thought to himself) the week before with Kirk, and an idea dawned on him.
“Gimme your stuff, including that shirt,” he muttered to Matt. “Quick.”
Matt was puzzled but he handed over the clothes.
“Watch this,” Skye murmured. “Hey buddy” he said to the cashier. Hearing this, Matt was surprised at the emotion it elicited in him: jealousy. What was happening?
The clerk didn’t look up at first, taking the clothes and muttering a perfunctory “Did you find everything okay?”
As he had the week before, Skye leaned in and said, “Yup. Especially this underwear.” For the first time, the clerk looked up and Skye was gratified to see him take a big gulp as his eyes rested on the strong jawline and steely eyes atop the muscular build of the Native American. “Oh…” he stumbled… “good…” He started to stack the underwear and then stopped for a moment, “And, er, is this the right size for you… sir?” Skye had, of course, never been called “Sir” by anyone and he found it rather gratifying.
“Yup. I like ‘em tight.”
“Oh, well,… if you like that… and you made your choice carefully. Ok.”
Skye looked at him and the clerk stared back into his eyes, seeing there the entire interchange from last week, and he understood what Skye was conveying. The clerk muttered, “You know there’s a sale on these today. Buy one shirt, and get four free packages of men’s underwear.”
The clerk looked nervously around to see if any of his colleagues had heard this outrageous offer, but they were busy and it was fairly noisy.
“Perfect,” said Skye, and flashed his best approximation of Kirk’s smile. “So just the shirt, then.”
“Yessir,” said the clerk, dry-mouthed. “That’ll be $8.99.” Matt, having observed all this but still unsure as to what had happened, stepped forward and tossed a $10 bill on the counter. The clerk put his shirtband and the underwear packages in a bag with the receipt and handed Matt the change. He looked at Skye: “Thank you, sir. Please come again.” They held each other’s gaze for just a moment too long, Skye because he was enjoying the dominance he so seldom experienced, and the clerk because he was transfixed by Skye’s looks.
“Thank you,” both students said simultaneously. They looked back to see Mason a couple of customers behind them in line, and Skye was gratified to know that once he explained what had occurred at the counter, Matt would also feel like he’d vanquished his tormentor. The two of them walked to the bus.
On the bus back to campus, Matt explained to Skye about the situation in his high school, where a group of 18-year-old seniors took an extra year before graduating. During this year, they attended some classes, worked at various jobs, and helped maintain the school. The theory was that certain boys (always boys) needed another year to mature before going off to college. On the whole, the program was a success, and Matt felt like he’d be much readier for the university after this extra year. “Besides,” he finished, “it’ll give me a chance to grow some more and gain some muscle, and maybe height.” Skye felt a certain fondness for this guy, even a certain amount of envy. He wished he himself had attended a school that looked out for the students this way. Increasingly, he became grateful for the wrestling skills that had helped him move on from a poor educational system.
The subject changed when Matt asked, “How did you get all those clothes to cost only 9 bucks?”
Slightly, though only slightly self-conscious, Skye told him of the previous Saturday’s events, explaining how surprised he was when the clerk offered him free packages of underwear. “Took me a second to realize what he was doing. I think… well, to be honest, I think he just thought I was a hot dude and he was… well,… flirting, I guess. I was glad to save the money, so I didn’t really think about it till later. And then when I saw your stuff, I thought I’d play a little game. Kinda funny, huh? But I have to admit, I don’t think I’d do it again. I don’t want to get that guy in trouble.”
“Seems like he didn’t mind. I mean, after all, he started it.”
“Yeah, but I guess twice is enough. And speaking of enough, you have enough alternatives to tidy white tease to last you through the year, right? And remember: you didn’t even try on the pouch briefs. You’re gonna have to do that and come back to the store and let me know!” Skye smiled, but, perspicacious as he was, he didn’t really register how good his remarks made Matt feel. With the victory over Mason and the recognition of a college guy, Matt felt like he had wings.
The two disembarked at the University store. Matt turned to Skye: “Thanks again, man. That was helpful, and I can’t believe Mason turned up right then! I guess he’ll keep quiet from now on. And thanks for all the free underwear! I guess you could use that trick a buncha times maybe at Bob’s.”
Skye smiled slightly and said quietly, “We’ll see, but like I said, probably not. Hey, come back and visit us here, huh?”
“You bet, man! See ya soon,” and Matt winged away, whistling.
The episode he had just experienced made Skye wonder about the nature of things: coincidence, chance, skill. He wondered if there even was a way to really understand those aspects of life.
He returned to the dorm room. Charlie was not around, nor was anyone else, so Skye decided he’d head to the weight room, work out, and check on his missing clothes.
He put the athletic clothes that Philip had lent him in his large paper bag, realizing that he might actually be able to afford an inexpensive gym bag now that he had a little money. He changed into an old collared shirt, switched to his wager-won briefs, and pulled on his old shorts. He left the dorm and walked briskly to the weight room. He was so distracted he didn’t realize he hadn’t brought any clean clothes for after his shower. “Idiot!” He muttered, but it was too late to return.
Once there, the first thing he did was check in with the desk. The student working there greeted him, apparently remembering him clearly.
“Hey, man,” said Skye, “did anyone turn in my clothes that disappeared last week?”
“Hi, Skye. I remember you. No. No one turned in anything, and I did a second sweep of the locker room and Lost and Found. I dunno, buddy, I guess they’re just gone. Some kind of asshole, huh? Takin’ a guy’s gear like that. I’ll let you know if I find it, ok?”
“Thanks. What’s your name?”
“Ben.”
“Ok, thanks, Ben. See ya around.”
Skye headed to the locker room with his paper bag, a little angry that he couldn’t trust guys here in the locker room. Though over the last few weeks he was experiencing locker room culture for the first time, he had quickly learned that for a lot of guys, the locker room was the sanctum sanctorum, where a higher standard of behavior was expected, at least in terms of honesty. Horsing around behavior was, obviously, unacceptable in normal social situations, but that only added to the mystique of the all-male environment. Social rules were suspended to a degree, but that did not extend to theft.
Skye entered and without really thinking about it, headed to the same aisle as he had the previous week. In a surprising coincidence, he saw Phillip, standing in his jockstrap at the same locker as the week prior. He looked up and smiled. “Hey, Skye! You’re back. I guess the weight room has its draws, especially on a weekend, huh?”
Skye smiled slightly and said, “Yeah, I had some time. Hey, I brought back the clothes you lent me. I figured I could have left them at the desk if I didn’t see you. I don’t have any other workout clothes, so I had to use this shirt”—he held up a collared inexpensive tennis-style shirt— “and these raggedy old shorts.”
Philip protested. “Dude! You don’t have to do that. Why not just use the stuff I lent you? You can return ‘em when you’re ready. I don’t really need them.”
Skye hesitated. He hadn’t expected to even see Philip, much less to have the offer renewed. “Well,” he said finally, “if that’s really ok. Actually, some of the stuff that was taken wasn’t exactly in the best shape, especially my trusty but worn-down tidy white tease.” He grinned. “And you know what? I have a job at the university store so I can maybe go buy some new ones by next week. Could I return them to you then?”
“Sure thing, man.” Philip smiled slowly. “Happy to help.”
“OK, thanks,” said Skye, opening his locker.
There in the locker, neatly folded, were all his clothes, the briefs on top.
Skye stared. Philip didn’t notice at first but then he sensed something. “What’s up?” he asked.
“What the fuck?” answered Skye. “Look at this!”
Philip leaned over and exclaimed, “Holy shit. Is that your stuff?”
“Yeah!”
“So it was here the whole time maybe?”
“But Ben at the desk said he’d done a whole sweep. How could he have missed them? Besides, look at how neatly they’re stacked and folded. That’s totally fuckin’ weird.”
“Really is, man. And right next to my locker. Didn’t we look there last week?”
“I thought we did. So they were here the whole time, next to your locker…”
“Unbelievable,” said Philip, and returned nonchalantly to finish dressing.
Skye stood, staring at his clothes in the locker and looked once or twice at Philip’s open locker door. Philip had suddenly become reserved. He finished dressing and said, “So I guess you won’t need my loaner clothes after all. Unless you’ve changed your mind about wearing them, you can just toss ‘em in my locker.
Skye looked at him strangely and said in a soft voice. “Yeah, I think I’ll put on my own gear. Thanks.”
“Ok, man. Just put my stuff in my locker. See ya on the floor.”
Philip left the locker room quickly. Skye took longer to dress than usual. He sat on the bench for a few minutes staring at the adjacent lockers. He slowly took out Philip’s clothes and folded them a little sloppily, clothing care not being a priority, and put them in Philip’s locker on top of his regular, sharply folded clothes. Naked, he stood in front of his own locker, shaking his head and thinking. He finally pulled on his old briefs and the rest of his clothes and headed out.
Philip was friendly but distant on the floor and within 45 minutes he apparently decided he’d done enough and headed back to the locker room. Skye was about 15 minutes behind him due to the clothing delay, so when he returned to his locker, Philip was toweling off from the shower. Some ineffable feeling was in the air. Skye ventured: “No sauna today?”
“Nope,” said Philip.
“Yeah, me neither. Just a shower, I guess.”
Philip said nothing as he finished toweling off and pulled on his boxerbriefs but then offered: “Thanks for the clothes back.”
“You bet. Thanks again.”
“Sure.”Philip finished dressing and put his gear in a bag and turned. “See you next Saturday?”
“Yeah. Maybe. See ya.”
Without another word, Philip walked down the aisle and left.
Skye sat, pondering. He then stripped, took his towel and headed to the showers. He remembered the sauna last week, but felt like he was unlikely to see similar activities today, and in the showers apart from an older guy, perhaps an administrator, with a semi-erection that he was washing rather too vigorously, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in the showers.
He finished showering, toweled himself off, returned, pulled on his own “stolen” clothes, happy, in a way, to have them back. They appeared to be un washed from the previous week, and Skye still didn’t know what to make of the whole situation.
Back at the dorm, Charlie was in his usual spot and usual state of undress.
“Hey, dude…Hey! Are those the clothes that were taken?”
“Yeah,” said Skye quietly. “Yeah, they are.”
“So somebody turned ‘em in?”
“Not exactly. They were in the locker I used last week, right next to Philip’s.”
“That’s weird.”
“Yeah.”
Skye said nothing more but changed into a shirt and jeans, boxer briefs underneath. He put his returned clothes in a stack on the end of his bed.
Skye was stunned. He looked up to see a guy about 5’10 with startlingly blond hair and light blue eyes. He was considerably stockier than Matt, with a square jaw and a slightly mocking mien. Skye realized he hadn’t asked Matt what sport he did, but now he saw that these guys were both wrestlers like him, only smaller and lighter, and that—uncannily—this had to be the Mason that Matt had just referred to. It seemed like some kind of cosmic joke that he would arrive at that precise moment.
“Fuck you, Mason. I’m here doing my own thing. This isn’t about you.”
“Yeah, it’s just that I can’t believe you’re still wearing those.”
“Well, you sure seem interested in my underwear, pal. Fuck off.”
Matt shucked down his briefs and stood naked and defiant with the boxer brief in his hand. Skye would never have been this bold in high school, but he did notice that Matt had reason not to be shy. His cock and balls were more than respectable, and Skye imagined for a moment that there had been mean-spirited joking in the locker room but that Matt, though on the slight side, at least had the equipment not to feel ashamed.
“Aw, take it easy, man. I’m just here trying on stuff.” He turned and seemed to notice Skye for the first time. “Sorry, man. You probably didn’t expect this.”
Skye didn’t answer. He fixed his gaze on Mason and took a step toward Matt, who had pulled on the boxer brief and was readjusting his nuts. Skye asked, “How do they feel?”
Mason was surprised. “You’re with him?”
Matt said, “Yeah. Got a problem?”
Mason looked at Skye’s build and backed down a little, saying nothing but looking from one to the other.
Matt looked at his teammate and said, “It ain’t like that, asshole. Skye works in a department store and I just wanted some advice. Frankly, if you really wanna know, I’m here because I’m sick of the crap you give me about how I dress, so I thought I’d make a change. Happy?”
Skye had imagined Matt being slightly bullied in the locker room, given his previous stories, so he was surprised at the vituperativeness of his comments. Mason just looked down, perhaps finally aware of how hurtful he’d been.
Matt turned to Skye: “These feel pretty good, and I don’t mind the thigh coverage.”
“You’ve got slender legs but they’re muscled so the thigh coverage should be ok. Pouch good?”
“Yup.” Matt grinned as he cupped his balls and then admired himself in the mirror.
Mason had opened up his package of boxers and when Matt glanced up, he saw to his astonishment, a package of tie tea whites partially hidden among the boxer briefs that Mason had chosen.
“Well, well, well, Mr. Hypocrite. What do I see? Those wouldn’t be tie tea whites, would they?”
Mason’s pale skin blushed furiously. He stammered, “I must have picked those up by mistake…”
Matt just looked at him. “Look, dude, you give me all this crap and yet here you are with the same briefs you make fun of. What the fuck, man?”
Mason couldn’t reply.
“Okay, I see… well now that I’ve got some boxer briefs and you might be wearing tie tea whites, maybe you could shut the fuck up about it in the locker room.”
Mason said nothing. Matt continued, “So-o-o.. does this mean you change into tie tea whites at home in the evening?”
Mason gulped, “Usually.”
“So then why do you harass me in the locker room about my underwear?”
“I dunno. Sorry. I’ll stop, ok? Just don’t tell anyone.”
Matt regarded him. Saying nothing more, he slid off his boxer briefs and repackaged them, standing naked. At that point a middle aged man came in with a shirt and some underwear of his own, looked at the naked student, said nothing, and went into one of the two private changing stalls.
Skye felt like Matt had the upper hand, but he also knew the importance of saving face, so he stepped in with, “Listen, dude. I don’t know you but I can tell you that in college, guys wear all different kinds of underwear, and nobody makes fun of anyone else’s choice. That’s a stupid high school thing to do. Guys in my dorm and on the team wear boxer briefs but they also wear just plain briefs, and often boxers for hanging around the dorm, but some don’t even do that.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mason.
“Well, it’ll sound funny but my roommate is a total nudist. Guy never wears clothes in the dorm.”
“Really?!” exclaimed both students simultaneously. Their unintended timing made them laugh slightly.
“Yup,” said Skye. “Took me a while to get used to walking in and having my roommate with no clothes, but it’s no big deal now. So anyway, Mason, I think you’d better live and let live.” Without actually realizing it, Skye had moved a little closer to Matt, a movement that seemed to convey protection for the slimmer guy.
Mason looked chastised and seem to have the epiphany that mocking someone else didn’t actually make him look cool in the eyes of his friends.
“All right,” he said. “Matt, sorry, man. I shouldn’t have been such an asshole. To make it up, I”ll try these tighties on right now, ok?”
Matt kind of smirked. “Well, ok. Let’s see how you feel.”
Mason took off his sneakers and removed his shirt and shorts. He was wearing slightly stretched gray boxerbriefs which he removed unceremoniously. Like his teammate, he stood naked while he opened the briefs package. Skye noted that Mason, too, had a decent cock and balls, and he seemed very much at ease. He pulled on the white Jockey-style shorts and readjusted his sac. “There,” he said to Matt. “Happy now?”
“Yep!”exclaimed Matt. “See? I don’t make fun of you.”
“Ok ok. I said sorry.” Mason gave a little grin that made Skye think that within a year or so, he’d have that winning smile that Kirk had perfected.
Skye turned to Matt: “You wanna try on those trunks?”
“Sure,” responded Matt. He removed his briefs, opened the trunks package and slipped them out. He stepped into them and pulled them up, again readjusting his sac. “These feel a little like briefs but cover my legs. This pouch is amazing. Like a jock but smoother.”
“Yeah,” said Skye. “That’s what I’ve heard. I’ve never had a pair myself.”
He looked over at Mason who was transfixed, staring at Matt. It was clear he had never seen, much less tried on, a pair of trunks. “Wow,” he said, “are those as comfortable as they look?”
“Sure are, man. You should try on a pair. Or maybe, to save time, just try these.” In one swift movement, he pulled off the trunks and tossed them to Mason, who, again one movement, caught the trunks, waistbanded his boxer briefs, and pulled on the trunks. “Thanks, man. Oh fuck. These feel awesome.” He cupped his balls to test the material and then said through gritted teeth: “Oh, fuck, not now.” Next moment the other two guys realized what Mason was going through, and in an effort not to embarrass him, they turned away. Matt grabbed his white briefs, pulled them on, and donned the rest of his clothes.
“Uh, dude,” he said over his shoulder, “I’m gonna need those trunks.”
“Now?” asked the red-faced former bully.
“Yup. No big deal man. We’ve all done that. Just give ‘em to me now. I gotta check out and Skye has better things to do, I’ll bet.”
Trying awkwardly to achieve the impossible task of removing the trunks without revealing his growing erection, Mason realized he had no choice, so he yanked them off and tossed them to Matt, who carefully put them back in their recloseable bag. Mason quickly grabbed his original boxer briefs and pulled them on along with the rest of his clothes. “Uh, thanks… and you won’t…?”
“Hey,” said Matt, “what happens at Bob’s, stays at Bob’s.” And, for the first time feeling power over Mason, he smirked and left the changing room, followed by Skye.
At the counter, Skye noticed the same slender cashier who had checked him out (“In both senses,” Skye thought to himself) the week before with Kirk, and an idea dawned on him.
“Gimme your stuff, including that shirt,” he muttered to Matt. “Quick.”
Matt was puzzled but he handed over the clothes.
“Watch this,” Skye murmured. “Hey buddy” he said to the cashier. Hearing this, Matt was surprised at the emotion it elicited in him: jealousy. What was happening?
The clerk didn’t look up at first, taking the clothes and muttering a perfunctory “Did you find everything okay?”
As he had the week before, Skye leaned in and said, “Yup. Especially this underwear.” For the first time, the clerk looked up and Skye was gratified to see him take a big gulp as his eyes rested on the strong jawline and steely eyes atop the muscular build of the Native American. “Oh…” he stumbled… “good…” He started to stack the underwear and then stopped for a moment, “And, er, is this the right size for you… sir?” Skye had, of course, never been called “Sir” by anyone and he found it rather gratifying.
“Yup. I like ‘em tight.”
“Oh, well,… if you like that… and you made your choice carefully. Ok.”
Skye looked at him and the clerk stared back into his eyes, seeing there the entire interchange from last week, and he understood what Skye was conveying. The clerk muttered, “You know there’s a sale on these today. Buy one shirt, and get four free packages of men’s underwear.”
The clerk looked nervously around to see if any of his colleagues had heard this outrageous offer, but they were busy and it was fairly noisy.
“Perfect,” said Skye, and flashed his best approximation of Kirk’s smile. “So just the shirt, then.”
“Yessir,” said the clerk, dry-mouthed. “That’ll be $8.99.” Matt, having observed all this but still unsure as to what had happened, stepped forward and tossed a $10 bill on the counter. The clerk put his shirtband and the underwear packages in a bag with the receipt and handed Matt the change. He looked at Skye: “Thank you, sir. Please come again.” They held each other’s gaze for just a moment too long, Skye because he was enjoying the dominance he so seldom experienced, and the clerk because he was transfixed by Skye’s looks.
“Thank you,” both students said simultaneously. They looked back to see Mason a couple of customers behind them in line, and Skye was gratified to know that once he explained what had occurred at the counter, Matt would also feel like he’d vanquished his tormentor. The two of them walked to the bus.
On the bus back to campus, Matt explained to Skye about the situation in his high school, where a group of 18-year-old seniors took an extra year before graduating. During this year, they attended some classes, worked at various jobs, and helped maintain the school. The theory was that certain boys (always boys) needed another year to mature before going off to college. On the whole, the program was a success, and Matt felt like he’d be much readier for the university after this extra year. “Besides,” he finished, “it’ll give me a chance to grow some more and gain some muscle, and maybe height.” Skye felt a certain fondness for this guy, even a certain amount of envy. He wished he himself had attended a school that looked out for the students this way. Increasingly, he became grateful for the wrestling skills that had helped him move on from a poor educational system.
The subject changed when Matt asked, “How did you get all those clothes to cost only 9 bucks?”
Slightly, though only slightly self-conscious, Skye told him of the previous Saturday’s events, explaining how surprised he was when the clerk offered him free packages of underwear. “Took me a second to realize what he was doing. I think… well, to be honest, I think he just thought I was a hot dude and he was… well,… flirting, I guess. I was glad to save the money, so I didn’t really think about it till later. And then when I saw your stuff, I thought I’d play a little game. Kinda funny, huh? But I have to admit, I don’t think I’d do it again. I don’t want to get that guy in trouble.”
“Seems like he didn’t mind. I mean, after all, he started it.”
“Yeah, but I guess twice is enough. And speaking of enough, you have enough alternatives to tidy white tease to last you through the year, right? And remember: you didn’t even try on the pouch briefs. You’re gonna have to do that and come back to the store and let me know!” Skye smiled, but, perspicacious as he was, he didn’t really register how good his remarks made Matt feel. With the victory over Mason and the recognition of a college guy, Matt felt like he had wings.
The two disembarked at the University store. Matt turned to Skye: “Thanks again, man. That was helpful, and I can’t believe Mason turned up right then! I guess he’ll keep quiet from now on. And thanks for all the free underwear! I guess you could use that trick a buncha times maybe at Bob’s.”
Skye smiled slightly and said quietly, “We’ll see, but like I said, probably not. Hey, come back and visit us here, huh?”
“You bet, man! See ya soon,” and Matt winged away, whistling.
The episode he had just experienced made Skye wonder about the nature of things: coincidence, chance, skill. He wondered if there even was a way to really understand those aspects of life.
He returned to the dorm room. Charlie was not around, nor was anyone else, so Skye decided he’d head to the weight room, work out, and check on his missing clothes.
He put the athletic clothes that Philip had lent him in his large paper bag, realizing that he might actually be able to afford an inexpensive gym bag now that he had a little money. He changed into an old collared shirt, switched to his wager-won briefs, and pulled on his old shorts. He left the dorm and walked briskly to the weight room. He was so distracted he didn’t realize he hadn’t brought any clean clothes for after his shower. “Idiot!” He muttered, but it was too late to return.
Once there, the first thing he did was check in with the desk. The student working there greeted him, apparently remembering him clearly.
“Hey, man,” said Skye, “did anyone turn in my clothes that disappeared last week?”
“Hi, Skye. I remember you. No. No one turned in anything, and I did a second sweep of the locker room and Lost and Found. I dunno, buddy, I guess they’re just gone. Some kind of asshole, huh? Takin’ a guy’s gear like that. I’ll let you know if I find it, ok?”
“Thanks. What’s your name?”
“Ben.”
“Ok, thanks, Ben. See ya around.”
Skye headed to the locker room with his paper bag, a little angry that he couldn’t trust guys here in the locker room. Though over the last few weeks he was experiencing locker room culture for the first time, he had quickly learned that for a lot of guys, the locker room was the sanctum sanctorum, where a higher standard of behavior was expected, at least in terms of honesty. Horsing around behavior was, obviously, unacceptable in normal social situations, but that only added to the mystique of the all-male environment. Social rules were suspended to a degree, but that did not extend to theft.
Skye entered and without really thinking about it, headed to the same aisle as he had the previous week. In a surprising coincidence, he saw Phillip, standing in his jockstrap at the same locker as the week prior. He looked up and smiled. “Hey, Skye! You’re back. I guess the weight room has its draws, especially on a weekend, huh?”
Skye smiled slightly and said, “Yeah, I had some time. Hey, I brought back the clothes you lent me. I figured I could have left them at the desk if I didn’t see you. I don’t have any other workout clothes, so I had to use this shirt”—he held up a collared inexpensive tennis-style shirt— “and these raggedy old shorts.”
Philip protested. “Dude! You don’t have to do that. Why not just use the stuff I lent you? You can return ‘em when you’re ready. I don’t really need them.”
Skye hesitated. He hadn’t expected to even see Philip, much less to have the offer renewed. “Well,” he said finally, “if that’s really ok. Actually, some of the stuff that was taken wasn’t exactly in the best shape, especially my trusty but worn-down tidy white tease.” He grinned. “And you know what? I have a job at the university store so I can maybe go buy some new ones by next week. Could I return them to you then?”
“Sure thing, man.” Philip smiled slowly. “Happy to help.”
“OK, thanks,” said Skye, opening his locker.
There in the locker, neatly folded, were all his clothes, the briefs on top.
Skye stared. Philip didn’t notice at first but then he sensed something. “What’s up?” he asked.
“What the fuck?” answered Skye. “Look at this!”
Philip leaned over and exclaimed, “Holy shit. Is that your stuff?”
“Yeah!”
“So it was here the whole time maybe?”
“But Ben at the desk said he’d done a whole sweep. How could he have missed them? Besides, look at how neatly they’re stacked and folded. That’s totally fuckin’ weird.”
“Really is, man. And right next to my locker. Didn’t we look there last week?”
“I thought we did. So they were here the whole time, next to your locker…”
“Unbelievable,” said Philip, and returned nonchalantly to finish dressing.
Skye stood, staring at his clothes in the locker and looked once or twice at Philip’s open locker door. Philip had suddenly become reserved. He finished dressing and said, “So I guess you won’t need my loaner clothes after all. Unless you’ve changed your mind about wearing them, you can just toss ‘em in my locker.
Skye looked at him strangely and said in a soft voice. “Yeah, I think I’ll put on my own gear. Thanks.”
“Ok, man. Just put my stuff in my locker. See ya on the floor.”
Philip left the locker room quickly. Skye took longer to dress than usual. He sat on the bench for a few minutes staring at the adjacent lockers. He slowly took out Philip’s clothes and folded them a little sloppily, clothing care not being a priority, and put them in Philip’s locker on top of his regular, sharply folded clothes. Naked, he stood in front of his own locker, shaking his head and thinking. He finally pulled on his old briefs and the rest of his clothes and headed out.
Philip was friendly but distant on the floor and within 45 minutes he apparently decided he’d done enough and headed back to the locker room. Skye was about 15 minutes behind him due to the clothing delay, so when he returned to his locker, Philip was toweling off from the shower. Some ineffable feeling was in the air. Skye ventured: “No sauna today?”
“Nope,” said Philip.
“Yeah, me neither. Just a shower, I guess.”
Philip said nothing as he finished toweling off and pulled on his boxerbriefs but then offered: “Thanks for the clothes back.”
“You bet. Thanks again.”
“Sure.”Philip finished dressing and put his gear in a bag and turned. “See you next Saturday?”
“Yeah. Maybe. See ya.”
Without another word, Philip walked down the aisle and left.
Skye sat, pondering. He then stripped, took his towel and headed to the showers. He remembered the sauna last week, but felt like he was unlikely to see similar activities today, and in the showers apart from an older guy, perhaps an administrator, with a semi-erection that he was washing rather too vigorously, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in the showers.
He finished showering, toweled himself off, returned, pulled on his own “stolen” clothes, happy, in a way, to have them back. They appeared to be un washed from the previous week, and Skye still didn’t know what to make of the whole situation.
Back at the dorm, Charlie was in his usual spot and usual state of undress.
“Hey, dude…Hey! Are those the clothes that were taken?”
“Yeah,” said Skye quietly. “Yeah, they are.”
“So somebody turned ‘em in?”
“Not exactly. They were in the locker I used last week, right next to Philip’s.”
“That’s weird.”
“Yeah.”
Skye said nothing more but changed into a shirt and jeans, boxer briefs underneath. He put his returned clothes in a stack on the end of his bed.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 61 Another visit from Chris
That evening, a bunch of the guys from the dorm and other teams set up a kind of informal pool/foosball tournament, with actual teams and stupid prizes for the winners. Skye, of course, had almost no experience in either of these games, but he had played each of them at least once and occasionally he surprised and delighted his “teammates” by sinking a pool ball or smacking the foosball away from the goal. It was a fun-filled, energetic evening, and even Charlie was involved, though he was forced to wear jeans and a shirt, a situation he felt obliged to point out more than once with mock exasperation.
This seemed to be a no-girls evening, which was fine with Skye. Though he had had a number of intimate connections in a surprisingly short time, he felt like there was still plenty to be gained in the company of “the guys.” He and Charlie returned to their room about 11 that night, ready to get some sleep. Charlie, of course, stripped off his clothes the moment he was in the room with an exaggerated exhalation of relief: “Ahhhhh!”
“Jesus,” said Skye. “You make it sound like you’ve been on trial and only just got off.”
“Well, I might just get off in a little bit here, now that you mention it,” responded the nudist. “Sounds like a good idea.”
Skye rolled his eyes.
As if on cue, the door burst open, and Chris jumped into the room, once again clad only in his tidy white tease. He chanted like a football crowd, “Early fuck! Early fuck! Early fuck!”
“Lemme guess,” said the sardonic Charlie, “you had an early fuck?”
Chris, in the best tradition of dumb jocks who’d gotten laid, merely repeated the chant: “Early fuck! Early fuck! Early fuck!”
“Shut up, dumbfuck!” yelped Charlie. “And calm down. I take it you came here to tell us about getting laid again?”
“Yup!” said the energetic neighbor. “See, she’s real religious and there’s some special service tomorrow at her church, so she told me we could fuck early and not wait till the end of a date…
Charlie smirked, “Now there’s a church I’d like to join!”
Chris continued: “What’s the point of fucking dating, anyway, if not fucking? Why can’t girls just skip the ‘gimme flowers and a movie date’ and just get to the blowjobs?”
“That, my friend,” said Charlie, instantly assuming a professorial demeanor, “is a question sociologists have been struggling with since time immemorial.”
“Fuck sociology, dude,” answered Chris, like a drunken man. “I’m just glad to have gotten to fuck all afternoon.”
“Yeah, that’s great,” said Skye, who actually began to feel a little envious. “So then, whadja do for the evening?”
“Beat off. What else?” smirked Chris. At Skye’s reaction, he laughed and said, “Just kiddin’, dude. Don’t take everything I say so literally.”
“Oh,” said Skye, now in verbal taunt mode, “so then you didn’t get fucked this afternoon.”
“Oh baby, I sooooo got fucked.”
“Uh huh,” said Skye, turning to straighten out his sheets. He realized he had unintentionally started a humorously provocative situation and thought he might continue it. “Got any proof?”
“Don’t move,” said Chris. He ran across the hall, and the other guys heard a drawer opening. A moment later he was back with two white briefs, both torn in the front. “See? This one’s from the other week, but this one. That one’s from this afternoon, as you can see.” He pointed out a damp spot.
Skye, continuing the ruse, barely looked up. “Uh-huh,” he said. “But that could be fake. For all we know, you might have ripped ‘em jacking off.” Skye was startled by his atypical response to the situation, but he had to admit he was having a little fun.
“Why would I…?” began Chris. Then he stopped. “I see what you’re doing, you fucker. Fine! Don’t believe me. You’re just J-E-A-L-O-U-S,” he remarked, spelling out the word.
This was too much for Charlie. “Oh for fuck’s sake, what are you, twelve? So did you just come over here to tell us?”
“Hell yeah. A guy needs his bro’s to know, right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Charlie. “So now we know, and we’re happy for you, and sad for us. Tomorrow maybe you can tell us about her ‘special church service.' I’ll bet she spent the whole time wet between the legs thinking about her Casanova.” Skye did not understand that reference, but he figured out its meaning. By contrast, Chris laughed and said, “Casanova was a nerd and loser, compared to me, with my fuckin big dick and my ripped tighties.” He swung his underwear around in a circle over his head and bellowed, “Oh yeah! See ya later, nerds!” With that he jumped back in his room and slammed the door.
“Yep,” said Charlie, with his usual insight. “There goes a guy who’ll be beating his meat in about… 5-4-3-2-1…..” As if in a well rehearsed play, the two guys heard a moan from across the hall, slammed their door, and laughed.
That evening, a bunch of the guys from the dorm and other teams set up a kind of informal pool/foosball tournament, with actual teams and stupid prizes for the winners. Skye, of course, had almost no experience in either of these games, but he had played each of them at least once and occasionally he surprised and delighted his “teammates” by sinking a pool ball or smacking the foosball away from the goal. It was a fun-filled, energetic evening, and even Charlie was involved, though he was forced to wear jeans and a shirt, a situation he felt obliged to point out more than once with mock exasperation.
This seemed to be a no-girls evening, which was fine with Skye. Though he had had a number of intimate connections in a surprisingly short time, he felt like there was still plenty to be gained in the company of “the guys.” He and Charlie returned to their room about 11 that night, ready to get some sleep. Charlie, of course, stripped off his clothes the moment he was in the room with an exaggerated exhalation of relief: “Ahhhhh!”
“Jesus,” said Skye. “You make it sound like you’ve been on trial and only just got off.”
“Well, I might just get off in a little bit here, now that you mention it,” responded the nudist. “Sounds like a good idea.”
Skye rolled his eyes.
As if on cue, the door burst open, and Chris jumped into the room, once again clad only in his tidy white tease. He chanted like a football crowd, “Early fuck! Early fuck! Early fuck!”
“Lemme guess,” said the sardonic Charlie, “you had an early fuck?”
Chris, in the best tradition of dumb jocks who’d gotten laid, merely repeated the chant: “Early fuck! Early fuck! Early fuck!”
“Shut up, dumbfuck!” yelped Charlie. “And calm down. I take it you came here to tell us about getting laid again?”
“Yup!” said the energetic neighbor. “See, she’s real religious and there’s some special service tomorrow at her church, so she told me we could fuck early and not wait till the end of a date…
Charlie smirked, “Now there’s a church I’d like to join!”
Chris continued: “What’s the point of fucking dating, anyway, if not fucking? Why can’t girls just skip the ‘gimme flowers and a movie date’ and just get to the blowjobs?”
“That, my friend,” said Charlie, instantly assuming a professorial demeanor, “is a question sociologists have been struggling with since time immemorial.”
“Fuck sociology, dude,” answered Chris, like a drunken man. “I’m just glad to have gotten to fuck all afternoon.”
“Yeah, that’s great,” said Skye, who actually began to feel a little envious. “So then, whadja do for the evening?”
“Beat off. What else?” smirked Chris. At Skye’s reaction, he laughed and said, “Just kiddin’, dude. Don’t take everything I say so literally.”
“Oh,” said Skye, now in verbal taunt mode, “so then you didn’t get fucked this afternoon.”
“Oh baby, I sooooo got fucked.”
“Uh huh,” said Skye, turning to straighten out his sheets. He realized he had unintentionally started a humorously provocative situation and thought he might continue it. “Got any proof?”
“Don’t move,” said Chris. He ran across the hall, and the other guys heard a drawer opening. A moment later he was back with two white briefs, both torn in the front. “See? This one’s from the other week, but this one. That one’s from this afternoon, as you can see.” He pointed out a damp spot.
Skye, continuing the ruse, barely looked up. “Uh-huh,” he said. “But that could be fake. For all we know, you might have ripped ‘em jacking off.” Skye was startled by his atypical response to the situation, but he had to admit he was having a little fun.
“Why would I…?” began Chris. Then he stopped. “I see what you’re doing, you fucker. Fine! Don’t believe me. You’re just J-E-A-L-O-U-S,” he remarked, spelling out the word.
This was too much for Charlie. “Oh for fuck’s sake, what are you, twelve? So did you just come over here to tell us?”
“Hell yeah. A guy needs his bro’s to know, right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Charlie. “So now we know, and we’re happy for you, and sad for us. Tomorrow maybe you can tell us about her ‘special church service.' I’ll bet she spent the whole time wet between the legs thinking about her Casanova.” Skye did not understand that reference, but he figured out its meaning. By contrast, Chris laughed and said, “Casanova was a nerd and loser, compared to me, with my fuckin big dick and my ripped tighties.” He swung his underwear around in a circle over his head and bellowed, “Oh yeah! See ya later, nerds!” With that he jumped back in his room and slammed the door.
“Yep,” said Charlie, with his usual insight. “There goes a guy who’ll be beating his meat in about… 5-4-3-2-1…..” As if in a well rehearsed play, the two guys heard a moan from across the hall, slammed their door, and laughed.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 62: Solid deductions
Within half an hour both guys were in their beds, naked. Skye had explained his whole day at Bob’s, including the exchange between Matt and Mason. Charlie listened with his usual reflectiveness. As he ended the tale, Skye said, “I know guys bully other guys, but I sure as hell don’t get why it mattered so much to Mason about Matt wearing tighties.”
Charlie paused. “Didn’t you say that Matt asked Mason if he changed to tie tea whites once he got home and Mason admitted it? Didn’t that seem odd to you?”
“I didn’t really notice, I think.”
“And why do you think a guy who mocks another guy’s slightly old-fashioned underwear would himself put them on once he’d returned?”
Skye considered this. “I don’t know.”
“If it were you, would you wait till you got home to change?”
“Oh. Probably not. I’d probably just change in the locker room after practice. But then, that’s just because after a few weeks in our locker room, I see a lot of guys doing that.”
“Right, so it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense that he changes at home. I can think of a scenario that might explain it.”
“What’s that?” asked Skye.
“Oh, no you don’t. You gotta work with me on this. One step at a time. Why not change after practice into tighties?”
“Well, he couldn’t do that after ragging on Matt, could he?”
“Correct, Dr. Watson.”
“Who?”
Charlie rolled his eyes and didn’t answer, continuing with:
“And he changes at home for one of two reasons, as far as I can see. First, he likes the way the underwear feels.”
“Yeah,” said Skye, “but if that’s so, why not just wear ‘em all the time?”
“Well, he can’t do that after all the teasing. He’d lose face. Besides, he seems to like boxerbriefs like most guys, anyway. The other reason is more interesting.”
“Someone in his house has some kind of obsession with them?” ventured Skye.
“Good man!” praised Charlie. “Though perhaps ‘obsession’ is a bit strong. It strikes me that… well, what do a lot of guys think of when they see other guys in tie tea whites?”
“ I think a lot of guys think they’re inexpensive…”
“And?”
“To be honest, I think a lot of guys think they’re old-fashioned.”
“Exactly. And another word for old-fashioned is…?”
“I dunno… Not new-fashioned.”
“Oh, brilliant,” laughed Charlie. “Think about how you could replace ‘old-fashioned’ with another phrase. Think Coca Cola.”
This puzzled Skye, but he felt like he was putting on intellectual muscle in this conversation, so he thought carefully and then blurted out, “Classic!”
“Bravo, me old hearty!” responded Charlie in a corny pirate captain’s accent. “If I had a little bell I’d ring it so you could get a prize. Now… who in a household might have strong opinions about ‘classic’ things?”
“Um… the grandmother?”
“You say that because, as you’ve alluded once or twice, your own grandmother was in your space all the time. In a more typical family, who might have opinions about guys’ underwear?”
“Oh! The dad.”
“Could it be,” continued Charlie, “that Mason’s dad is an old curmudgeon at best or, at worst, some kind of abuser, and insists that his son will be “manly” and only wear the kind of underwear that the dad himself wears: men’s plain tie tea white briefs?”
“Could be. It seems kind of extreme.”
“Not for certain types of dads, according to what I’ve read. And the really unpleasant part of this is that if Mason changes once he returns from school, that means his dad is checking, for fuck’s sake. I dunno…maybe asking Mason to strip or at least show the top of his underwear?”
“That’s messed up, man.”
“It sure as hell is, but it’s not dissimilar to the kinds of case studies I’ve read about in sociology class. Creepy.”
“Poor Mason. The dude’s gotta feel pissed off about that all the.. ohhhh.”
“Is this a light bulb moment, Dr. Watson?” Skye ignored the reference since he didn’t understand it.
“You think maybe the reason Mason’s being such an asshole on this subject is that he has no power over his dad but he can have some over Matt by giving him grief?”
“Another epiphany! You’re my most brilliant student."
“I’m your only fucking student, man.”
“Well, to repeat a joke, you may be my only fucking student, but you’re not really a fucking student, now, are you… not like our friend from across the hall.”
“Shut the fuck up,” said Skye with a grin. “Are you telling me that the idea I just had might be right?”
“I can’t answer that,” said Charlie.
“Why not?”
“Cuz you told me to shut the fuck up, remember?” Charlie grinned. In a catlike movement, Skye made a lightning-fast arm sweep and catapulted his gym clothes from the end of his bed into Charlie’s face. “Tsk, tsk,” said his phlegmatic roommate, “so many contradictions. But if you must know, yeah, I think you hit the nail on the head, and I think my psychology test would confirm it. Mason is doing transference. It’s a classic. In his head, he makes his dad a target, since he’s powerless in real life against him, and since Matt wears tighties just like Mason’s dad, he’s a sitting duck.”
“Wow,” said Skye. “So fucked up.”
“But so human.”
Skye was silent for a few moments and then said softly, “Fuck, if I had had a father…”
Another silence. Even in the midst of a kind of intellectual triumph wherein Charlie had opened up Skye’s eyes to psychological theory, he was still sensitive enough to know that virtually any mention of fathers would affect his roommate deeply.
“Yes,” said Charlie, filling the void in the conversation. “You wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the situation, right?”
Skye just swallowed and looked at Charlie with his gray eyes.
“I’m sorry, man,” said Charlie.
“Yeah.”
Yet another pause. Then Skye: “I’ll bet that’s why he’s been such an asshole. I gotta tell Matt.”
“Yeah, you probably should. Also, if I may suggest, tell him that if he can get Mason alone and just say something like Dads sure are a pain in the ass sometimes—something non-confrontative—he might see Mason break down that wall and maybe tell him the truth. Boy, I wish I could be there if that happened. It’d be a great experiment.”
“Dude,” countered Skye, “it’s this guys family, not some lame-ass experiment.”
“I know that. I only meant I’d learn something from it, as they might.”
“Well, I guess that’s true enough.” The two looked at each other. Before they knew it, they were in their beds, as if by magic.
In the dark, Skye heard, “I actually have another thing to say about that whole Saturday adventure, but I’ll just leave you to dream about this:
If a man doesn’t have an older man whom he admires, and a younger man who admires him, holes appear in his psyche, and those holes fill themselves with demons.
The power of this unexpected sentence was like a hypnotist’s spell. Skye barely had time to even restate it before he was asleep, in some dream world he had never in his life inhabited.
Within half an hour both guys were in their beds, naked. Skye had explained his whole day at Bob’s, including the exchange between Matt and Mason. Charlie listened with his usual reflectiveness. As he ended the tale, Skye said, “I know guys bully other guys, but I sure as hell don’t get why it mattered so much to Mason about Matt wearing tighties.”
Charlie paused. “Didn’t you say that Matt asked Mason if he changed to tie tea whites once he got home and Mason admitted it? Didn’t that seem odd to you?”
“I didn’t really notice, I think.”
“And why do you think a guy who mocks another guy’s slightly old-fashioned underwear would himself put them on once he’d returned?”
Skye considered this. “I don’t know.”
“If it were you, would you wait till you got home to change?”
“Oh. Probably not. I’d probably just change in the locker room after practice. But then, that’s just because after a few weeks in our locker room, I see a lot of guys doing that.”
“Right, so it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense that he changes at home. I can think of a scenario that might explain it.”
“What’s that?” asked Skye.
“Oh, no you don’t. You gotta work with me on this. One step at a time. Why not change after practice into tighties?”
“Well, he couldn’t do that after ragging on Matt, could he?”
“Correct, Dr. Watson.”
“Who?”
Charlie rolled his eyes and didn’t answer, continuing with:
“And he changes at home for one of two reasons, as far as I can see. First, he likes the way the underwear feels.”
“Yeah,” said Skye, “but if that’s so, why not just wear ‘em all the time?”
“Well, he can’t do that after all the teasing. He’d lose face. Besides, he seems to like boxerbriefs like most guys, anyway. The other reason is more interesting.”
“Someone in his house has some kind of obsession with them?” ventured Skye.
“Good man!” praised Charlie. “Though perhaps ‘obsession’ is a bit strong. It strikes me that… well, what do a lot of guys think of when they see other guys in tie tea whites?”
“ I think a lot of guys think they’re inexpensive…”
“And?”
“To be honest, I think a lot of guys think they’re old-fashioned.”
“Exactly. And another word for old-fashioned is…?”
“I dunno… Not new-fashioned.”
“Oh, brilliant,” laughed Charlie. “Think about how you could replace ‘old-fashioned’ with another phrase. Think Coca Cola.”
This puzzled Skye, but he felt like he was putting on intellectual muscle in this conversation, so he thought carefully and then blurted out, “Classic!”
“Bravo, me old hearty!” responded Charlie in a corny pirate captain’s accent. “If I had a little bell I’d ring it so you could get a prize. Now… who in a household might have strong opinions about ‘classic’ things?”
“Um… the grandmother?”
“You say that because, as you’ve alluded once or twice, your own grandmother was in your space all the time. In a more typical family, who might have opinions about guys’ underwear?”
“Oh! The dad.”
“Could it be,” continued Charlie, “that Mason’s dad is an old curmudgeon at best or, at worst, some kind of abuser, and insists that his son will be “manly” and only wear the kind of underwear that the dad himself wears: men’s plain tie tea white briefs?”
“Could be. It seems kind of extreme.”
“Not for certain types of dads, according to what I’ve read. And the really unpleasant part of this is that if Mason changes once he returns from school, that means his dad is checking, for fuck’s sake. I dunno…maybe asking Mason to strip or at least show the top of his underwear?”
“That’s messed up, man.”
“It sure as hell is, but it’s not dissimilar to the kinds of case studies I’ve read about in sociology class. Creepy.”
“Poor Mason. The dude’s gotta feel pissed off about that all the.. ohhhh.”
“Is this a light bulb moment, Dr. Watson?” Skye ignored the reference since he didn’t understand it.
“You think maybe the reason Mason’s being such an asshole on this subject is that he has no power over his dad but he can have some over Matt by giving him grief?”
“Another epiphany! You’re my most brilliant student."
“I’m your only fucking student, man.”
“Well, to repeat a joke, you may be my only fucking student, but you’re not really a fucking student, now, are you… not like our friend from across the hall.”
“Shut the fuck up,” said Skye with a grin. “Are you telling me that the idea I just had might be right?”
“I can’t answer that,” said Charlie.
“Why not?”
“Cuz you told me to shut the fuck up, remember?” Charlie grinned. In a catlike movement, Skye made a lightning-fast arm sweep and catapulted his gym clothes from the end of his bed into Charlie’s face. “Tsk, tsk,” said his phlegmatic roommate, “so many contradictions. But if you must know, yeah, I think you hit the nail on the head, and I think my psychology test would confirm it. Mason is doing transference. It’s a classic. In his head, he makes his dad a target, since he’s powerless in real life against him, and since Matt wears tighties just like Mason’s dad, he’s a sitting duck.”
“Wow,” said Skye. “So fucked up.”
“But so human.”
Skye was silent for a few moments and then said softly, “Fuck, if I had had a father…”
Another silence. Even in the midst of a kind of intellectual triumph wherein Charlie had opened up Skye’s eyes to psychological theory, he was still sensitive enough to know that virtually any mention of fathers would affect his roommate deeply.
“Yes,” said Charlie, filling the void in the conversation. “You wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the situation, right?”
Skye just swallowed and looked at Charlie with his gray eyes.
“I’m sorry, man,” said Charlie.
“Yeah.”
Yet another pause. Then Skye: “I’ll bet that’s why he’s been such an asshole. I gotta tell Matt.”
“Yeah, you probably should. Also, if I may suggest, tell him that if he can get Mason alone and just say something like Dads sure are a pain in the ass sometimes—something non-confrontative—he might see Mason break down that wall and maybe tell him the truth. Boy, I wish I could be there if that happened. It’d be a great experiment.”
“Dude,” countered Skye, “it’s this guys family, not some lame-ass experiment.”
“I know that. I only meant I’d learn something from it, as they might.”
“Well, I guess that’s true enough.” The two looked at each other. Before they knew it, they were in their beds, as if by magic.
In the dark, Skye heard, “I actually have another thing to say about that whole Saturday adventure, but I’ll just leave you to dream about this:
If a man doesn’t have an older man whom he admires, and a younger man who admires him, holes appear in his psyche, and those holes fill themselves with demons.
The power of this unexpected sentence was like a hypnotist’s spell. Skye barely had time to even restate it before he was asleep, in some dream world he had never in his life inhabited.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Chapter 63 Dark Dream Corners
If Skye had had time to process his roommate’s strange statement, he might have understood why his dreams were instantly the very picture of chaos. He saw old men on the Rez, ruined by drinking. He saw young boys full of hopes and knew that these hopes would go unfulfilled. He saw every boy he’d ever wrestled, leading, like Generals, a group of guys that that dissolved just as Skye assumed his most defiant wrestling stance. He saw, like a spy drone, all the guys from the team, in their own dorm rooms, doing everything from making beds to playing video games to circle jerking with their dorm mates. He saw naked guys in the shower— a mysterious agglomeration of the dorm athletes and the wrestlers. At one point, he saw all these men turn to him with erections and simply stare, and he knew this was meant to be an initiation into the world of virility and the capacity to plant his seed even to the far reaches of the Earth.
Then he saw something like the “Progress of Man” imagery as he’d seen it once or twice on evolutionists’ T-shirts and posters: from left to right, a bent over ape-like creature gradually evolving to walk on two legs, proud and tall. These figures dissolved into various male coteries: little boys full of energy, looking for guidance; early adolescents flexing their metaphorical muscles and dying to show off and be praised; later adolescents who sexualized their every encounter, establishing sexual prowess without even realizing it; men in their 20’s facing the world and seeking to establish their rightful place as figures of prominence; men in their 30’s with young sons toddling about, giving their offspring the admirable male energy that they could not get elsewhere; men in their 40’s—fathers of teenagers trying their best to teach values and yet aware of their own mistakes at that age and even proud of their sons’ youthful missteps; men in their 50’s establishing elder wisdom; men in their 60’s helping their own sons be fathers in their turn… the list went well into the ninth decade of these men.
To Skye’s dismay, the longer he looked at the father figures, the more they started to fade until they were just a shadow, then a dotted outline, then an amorphous shape, then nothing. He cried out, “Don’t!” And the whole scene vanished and he woke with a start. Charlie was at his side in an instant, holding him as Skye let loose with a heart-rending wail and collapsed into his arms.
If Skye had had time to process his roommate’s strange statement, he might have understood why his dreams were instantly the very picture of chaos. He saw old men on the Rez, ruined by drinking. He saw young boys full of hopes and knew that these hopes would go unfulfilled. He saw every boy he’d ever wrestled, leading, like Generals, a group of guys that that dissolved just as Skye assumed his most defiant wrestling stance. He saw, like a spy drone, all the guys from the team, in their own dorm rooms, doing everything from making beds to playing video games to circle jerking with their dorm mates. He saw naked guys in the shower— a mysterious agglomeration of the dorm athletes and the wrestlers. At one point, he saw all these men turn to him with erections and simply stare, and he knew this was meant to be an initiation into the world of virility and the capacity to plant his seed even to the far reaches of the Earth.
Then he saw something like the “Progress of Man” imagery as he’d seen it once or twice on evolutionists’ T-shirts and posters: from left to right, a bent over ape-like creature gradually evolving to walk on two legs, proud and tall. These figures dissolved into various male coteries: little boys full of energy, looking for guidance; early adolescents flexing their metaphorical muscles and dying to show off and be praised; later adolescents who sexualized their every encounter, establishing sexual prowess without even realizing it; men in their 20’s facing the world and seeking to establish their rightful place as figures of prominence; men in their 30’s with young sons toddling about, giving their offspring the admirable male energy that they could not get elsewhere; men in their 40’s—fathers of teenagers trying their best to teach values and yet aware of their own mistakes at that age and even proud of their sons’ youthful missteps; men in their 50’s establishing elder wisdom; men in their 60’s helping their own sons be fathers in their turn… the list went well into the ninth decade of these men.
To Skye’s dismay, the longer he looked at the father figures, the more they started to fade until they were just a shadow, then a dotted outline, then an amorphous shape, then nothing. He cried out, “Don’t!” And the whole scene vanished and he woke with a start. Charlie was at his side in an instant, holding him as Skye let loose with a heart-rending wail and collapsed into his arms.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Chapter 64 Consistency
Charlie held Skye tightly while the Native American soul tried to cope with the infinite abyss of grief over an absent father. In the midst of his paroxysms, Skye felt he would never get beyond this. In this forest of confusion and vehement memory, of need and sensation, Skye knew that a present father would have extinguished these emotional firepits, or at least guided him safely past them, but that an absent father was the very cause of these hellfires which threatened to engulf him as he attempted to negotiate the way forward, alone.
Charlie held him and merely said, “I know. It hurts.” Skye rocked a little and finally, after perhaps half an hour, he was spent. He practically fell asleep in Charlies arms, but the latter managed to get him back in bed and pull up the sheets, returning to his own bed, shaking his head, unsure about whether he’d done the right thing by introducing such a powerful idea just as Skye’s unconscious mind was about to take its position as nightly watchman.
And yet… in the midst of the most profound psychological experience he could imagine, his body was never far from the arena, like a high school jock who just assumed he was welcome on the playing field, no matter the game. Hence, a couple of hours into a deep slumber, his penis stirred like some kind of imp from a German fairy tale, and lengthened and thickened and demanded his attention, so of course, as the suddenly wakeful Skye had absolutely no power in this situation, he had to lift his covers and whisper to his cock, “Fuck off.” The lack of an answer was itself the answer, and Skye let out an exasperated sigh: “Fine. You win.” Hands on his cock and balls, he tried his best to put aside the psychological bruising and get beyond the interruption by stroking his penis like a madman. Within a few minutes, the penis was only too happy to concede, calling on its back-ups to provide copious squirts of sperm, which jetted all over the cum gutters of Skye’s defined abs. Skye was too exhausted to even grab his cum sock (which he vaguely remembered was actually Charlie’s). He simply fell asleep like a dead man.
Unbelievably, apparently operating on the principle that good things happen in threes, his maniac cock and balls repeated this process twice more, as they had the previous two times they had felt entitled to be part of his life. After all, psychological demands are powerful, but since we all live in a body, a guy’s cock is actually in charge
Skye slept well into the afternoon that Sunday.
Charlie held Skye tightly while the Native American soul tried to cope with the infinite abyss of grief over an absent father. In the midst of his paroxysms, Skye felt he would never get beyond this. In this forest of confusion and vehement memory, of need and sensation, Skye knew that a present father would have extinguished these emotional firepits, or at least guided him safely past them, but that an absent father was the very cause of these hellfires which threatened to engulf him as he attempted to negotiate the way forward, alone.
Charlie held him and merely said, “I know. It hurts.” Skye rocked a little and finally, after perhaps half an hour, he was spent. He practically fell asleep in Charlies arms, but the latter managed to get him back in bed and pull up the sheets, returning to his own bed, shaking his head, unsure about whether he’d done the right thing by introducing such a powerful idea just as Skye’s unconscious mind was about to take its position as nightly watchman.
And yet… in the midst of the most profound psychological experience he could imagine, his body was never far from the arena, like a high school jock who just assumed he was welcome on the playing field, no matter the game. Hence, a couple of hours into a deep slumber, his penis stirred like some kind of imp from a German fairy tale, and lengthened and thickened and demanded his attention, so of course, as the suddenly wakeful Skye had absolutely no power in this situation, he had to lift his covers and whisper to his cock, “Fuck off.” The lack of an answer was itself the answer, and Skye let out an exasperated sigh: “Fine. You win.” Hands on his cock and balls, he tried his best to put aside the psychological bruising and get beyond the interruption by stroking his penis like a madman. Within a few minutes, the penis was only too happy to concede, calling on its back-ups to provide copious squirts of sperm, which jetted all over the cum gutters of Skye’s defined abs. Skye was too exhausted to even grab his cum sock (which he vaguely remembered was actually Charlie’s). He simply fell asleep like a dead man.
Unbelievably, apparently operating on the principle that good things happen in threes, his maniac cock and balls repeated this process twice more, as they had the previous two times they had felt entitled to be part of his life. After all, psychological demands are powerful, but since we all live in a body, a guy’s cock is actually in charge
Skye slept well into the afternoon that Sunday.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 65
Charlie continued to do something he seldom did: second-guess his choices. He had been so interested in Skye’s adventures with the younger Matt and in the relationship between Skye and the older Kirk, not to mention his Coach and Mr. Williams, that the quotation about men admiring men had simply come out of his mouth, without his considering its effect. Of course, he had seen all too clearly the reaction it evoked in Skye, and he felt bad about it. Despite that, his inner burgeoning psychiatrist—and what other profession, after all, could he follow?— gave him to understand that such pain was a necessity for Skye’s growth and mental health. The Native couldn’t move on to any great degree until he had stared his most potent need square in the face.
Charlie left for lunch while Skye still slept, and when he had returned and stripped as usual, he became a little concerned about his roommate, so he made the choice to wake him up by gently shaking his bare shoulder. Skye’s eyes opened immediately: “What?” he uttered, confused for a moment.
Charlie looked at him, trying to see if there was any residual pain in his face. “Sorry, man… I just thought maybe you should wake up. I know if I overdo it, I can’t sleep that night and I’m screwed up the next day.”
“Oh,” said Skye, rubbings eyes and sitting up, the covers falling off his muscled chest. “Right. Thanks. I had some fucked up dreams. I think they… oh fuck, did I lose it? That wasn’t a dream, was it, when you held me for what seemed like hours. Crap. Did I really do that? Sorry, dude.”
Charlie was deeply moved. “Skye, you don’t have to apologize. In fact, I should probably apologize to you. I’m the one that tossed that quotation to you about younger guys and older guys and admiration right as you fell asleep. I should know better, especially because you’ve made it clear how painful the whole father question is for you. I’m sorry.”
It was Skye’s turn to be moved. “That’s okay, dude. I know we were just talking. Man, that dream I had was fucked up. It must have really got to me. How long was I awake last night?”
“I’d say a good half hour.”
“Was I really awake?”
“I don’t see how you couldn’t have been. You were crying like crazy, man.”
“Crying?”
“Sobbing, more accurately. Your whole body was shaking the entire time.”
Skye just stared, trying to sort out his dream from his memory. He had a brief, somewhat fuzzy picture of his naked roommate sitting on the edge of Skye’s bed while he, also naked, leaned his head into Charlie’s surprisingly muscled chest. Waves of memory emerged but also currents of gratitude and even a kind of love. Seldom in his life had he had the unalloyed comfort of others when he needed it.
“Did I say anything?” asked Skye.
“Nope. Just cried. I held you.”
“That was fuckin nice, man. To be honest, I almost never get that.”
“Well, maybe it’s time that changed. What else could I do with a bro in pain?”
Silence.
Charlie: “You wanna tell me your dream?”
“Depends. You gonna overanalyze it? I hear that’s what shrinks do.”
“I’m not a shrink yet, buddy. Just tell me.”
Skye sighed. He reached back into his nocturnal memory and recalled the pictures of the boys he’d wrestled, the images of Warriors challenging him, the scenes of men of various decades trying their best to fulfill their roles, and in the middle of it, the disappearing outline of what he could only call his Father Figure. Once he had described all this, Charlie whistled softly. “Wow,” he said. “All that from one sentence. You have a lot of deep, deep feelings there. I don’t know how you’ve managed this far. I guess that shows some strength.”
“I suppose,” answered Skye, “but there were lots of times—still are—when I’m sick and fucking tired of being that ‘strong.’ Sometimes I want someone else to do the heavy lifting.”
After a pause, Charlie said, “Well, I think we’re lucky to have that here. It’s not that common in college to have a group of guys, let alone two groups, that aren’t assholes and who actually want every guy here to be who he is, including sharing what we have in common… ya know, like beating off all the time.”
This last comment was so juvenile in context that both guys broke out laughing.
“Oh fuck!” exclaimed Skye, suddenly serious. “That reminds me that last night…”
“You had to jack off three times?” interrupted Charlie.
“Fuck!… yeah…” He reddened. “I guess it was obvious?”
“Every time, man. Don’t worry about it. But maybe we can find some way to manage that so it doesn’t happen so often and still keeps your cock under control when Maribella winks at you in Spanish.”
“Maria,” corrected Skye… and both guys were astonished that the mere mention of a three-syllable name produced an instant erection on Skye, visible under the simple sheet that was now the only thing covering his penis.
“Oh. My. God,” said Charlie laughing. “you got it bad, bro. We may have to call in the Big Guns on this one… although your gun’s pretty big already,” he laughed. “I’m just thinking Kirk might need to give some advice.
“Yeah, I told you—didn’t I?— that he has similar problems when he was a freshman. He’s told me to double up on underwear on class days, but we didn’t really talk about his strategies to stop the nighttime… um, ‘sessions’?… I should probably talk to him.”
“Good idea, but I have to tell you, if I can speak frankly, that you might pre-empt the whole deal by jacking off just before you fall asleep. That might manage it here, and then in class… well, I’m just not sure. Of course most guys would hardly be able to pound their pud that much after three orgasms in the night, but if that last reaction to the name—“ here Charlie leaned in mischievously and leaned on the next word—“ Maria” and both both laughed again to see Skye’s cock jump under the sheet and then to see the next minute a spot of clear liquid forming—“like I said, if that’s your reaction to simply hearing her name, you are outta luck!”
Skye groaned. “Aw, fuck. What am I gonna do?”
“Don’t give up hope, man. There’s always a way. In terms of sleep management, though, have you considered counting sheep?” Before Skye could answer this intentionally ridiculous piece of advice, Charlie piped up, “Probably not. Knowing you, you’d probably fuck ‘em instead of counting.”
Charlie’s grin was obliterated as Skye threw his pillow at him.
“I gotta do some homework,” said Skye. “Fuck off, bro…” but then his mode softened a little and he said quietly, “Seriously, though. Thanks for seeing me through that.”
“The least I could do.” Charlie returned to his bed, lay on top of it, his naked body unself-consciously on display, and started reading about the history of psychology.
Charlie continued to do something he seldom did: second-guess his choices. He had been so interested in Skye’s adventures with the younger Matt and in the relationship between Skye and the older Kirk, not to mention his Coach and Mr. Williams, that the quotation about men admiring men had simply come out of his mouth, without his considering its effect. Of course, he had seen all too clearly the reaction it evoked in Skye, and he felt bad about it. Despite that, his inner burgeoning psychiatrist—and what other profession, after all, could he follow?— gave him to understand that such pain was a necessity for Skye’s growth and mental health. The Native couldn’t move on to any great degree until he had stared his most potent need square in the face.
Charlie left for lunch while Skye still slept, and when he had returned and stripped as usual, he became a little concerned about his roommate, so he made the choice to wake him up by gently shaking his bare shoulder. Skye’s eyes opened immediately: “What?” he uttered, confused for a moment.
Charlie looked at him, trying to see if there was any residual pain in his face. “Sorry, man… I just thought maybe you should wake up. I know if I overdo it, I can’t sleep that night and I’m screwed up the next day.”
“Oh,” said Skye, rubbings eyes and sitting up, the covers falling off his muscled chest. “Right. Thanks. I had some fucked up dreams. I think they… oh fuck, did I lose it? That wasn’t a dream, was it, when you held me for what seemed like hours. Crap. Did I really do that? Sorry, dude.”
Charlie was deeply moved. “Skye, you don’t have to apologize. In fact, I should probably apologize to you. I’m the one that tossed that quotation to you about younger guys and older guys and admiration right as you fell asleep. I should know better, especially because you’ve made it clear how painful the whole father question is for you. I’m sorry.”
It was Skye’s turn to be moved. “That’s okay, dude. I know we were just talking. Man, that dream I had was fucked up. It must have really got to me. How long was I awake last night?”
“I’d say a good half hour.”
“Was I really awake?”
“I don’t see how you couldn’t have been. You were crying like crazy, man.”
“Crying?”
“Sobbing, more accurately. Your whole body was shaking the entire time.”
Skye just stared, trying to sort out his dream from his memory. He had a brief, somewhat fuzzy picture of his naked roommate sitting on the edge of Skye’s bed while he, also naked, leaned his head into Charlie’s surprisingly muscled chest. Waves of memory emerged but also currents of gratitude and even a kind of love. Seldom in his life had he had the unalloyed comfort of others when he needed it.
“Did I say anything?” asked Skye.
“Nope. Just cried. I held you.”
“That was fuckin nice, man. To be honest, I almost never get that.”
“Well, maybe it’s time that changed. What else could I do with a bro in pain?”
Silence.
Charlie: “You wanna tell me your dream?”
“Depends. You gonna overanalyze it? I hear that’s what shrinks do.”
“I’m not a shrink yet, buddy. Just tell me.”
Skye sighed. He reached back into his nocturnal memory and recalled the pictures of the boys he’d wrestled, the images of Warriors challenging him, the scenes of men of various decades trying their best to fulfill their roles, and in the middle of it, the disappearing outline of what he could only call his Father Figure. Once he had described all this, Charlie whistled softly. “Wow,” he said. “All that from one sentence. You have a lot of deep, deep feelings there. I don’t know how you’ve managed this far. I guess that shows some strength.”
“I suppose,” answered Skye, “but there were lots of times—still are—when I’m sick and fucking tired of being that ‘strong.’ Sometimes I want someone else to do the heavy lifting.”
After a pause, Charlie said, “Well, I think we’re lucky to have that here. It’s not that common in college to have a group of guys, let alone two groups, that aren’t assholes and who actually want every guy here to be who he is, including sharing what we have in common… ya know, like beating off all the time.”
This last comment was so juvenile in context that both guys broke out laughing.
“Oh fuck!” exclaimed Skye, suddenly serious. “That reminds me that last night…”
“You had to jack off three times?” interrupted Charlie.
“Fuck!… yeah…” He reddened. “I guess it was obvious?”
“Every time, man. Don’t worry about it. But maybe we can find some way to manage that so it doesn’t happen so often and still keeps your cock under control when Maribella winks at you in Spanish.”
“Maria,” corrected Skye… and both guys were astonished that the mere mention of a three-syllable name produced an instant erection on Skye, visible under the simple sheet that was now the only thing covering his penis.
“Oh. My. God,” said Charlie laughing. “you got it bad, bro. We may have to call in the Big Guns on this one… although your gun’s pretty big already,” he laughed. “I’m just thinking Kirk might need to give some advice.
“Yeah, I told you—didn’t I?— that he has similar problems when he was a freshman. He’s told me to double up on underwear on class days, but we didn’t really talk about his strategies to stop the nighttime… um, ‘sessions’?… I should probably talk to him.”
“Good idea, but I have to tell you, if I can speak frankly, that you might pre-empt the whole deal by jacking off just before you fall asleep. That might manage it here, and then in class… well, I’m just not sure. Of course most guys would hardly be able to pound their pud that much after three orgasms in the night, but if that last reaction to the name—“ here Charlie leaned in mischievously and leaned on the next word—“ Maria” and both both laughed again to see Skye’s cock jump under the sheet and then to see the next minute a spot of clear liquid forming—“like I said, if that’s your reaction to simply hearing her name, you are outta luck!”
Skye groaned. “Aw, fuck. What am I gonna do?”
“Don’t give up hope, man. There’s always a way. In terms of sleep management, though, have you considered counting sheep?” Before Skye could answer this intentionally ridiculous piece of advice, Charlie piped up, “Probably not. Knowing you, you’d probably fuck ‘em instead of counting.”
Charlie’s grin was obliterated as Skye threw his pillow at him.
“I gotta do some homework,” said Skye. “Fuck off, bro…” but then his mode softened a little and he said quietly, “Seriously, though. Thanks for seeing me through that.”
“The least I could do.” Charlie returned to his bed, lay on top of it, his naked body unself-consciously on display, and started reading about the history of psychology.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 66
Skye was grateful that the following day, Monday, was uneventful in the extreme. Meals were low-key, classes were interesting enough, and he continued to feel that maybe he would be able to maintain a decent academic standing, despite that being a new experience for him
He proceeded to the locker room that afternoon in a relatively good mood. Kirk was at his locker, as usual, pulling off his shirt. “Hey, stud. How’s it hangin’?”
Skye smiled, a little shyly. “Today was ok, thanks, but…”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
“I had these serious dreams on Saturday night, and then I had another one of those three-times-in-one-night episodes.”
“ ‘Episodes’,” said Kirk, trying on the expression for size, so to speak.” Truth is, you’re just a horn dog. What are we gonna do about that?”
“Well, what did you do when you were a freshman?”
“I tried everything, man,” said Kirk ruefully. “I tried sleeping nude, then sleeping with pajamas. I even tried sleeping with jeans but it felt like my hard-on was gonna rip the fucking fabric!” He laughed.
Skye countered: “Charlie thinks if maybe I…” He paused a little embarrassed. “You know, if I…”
“Beat off just before falling asleep? I’ve heard that might work. I mean, it kind of makes sense, and you'd hardly be the only guy in the dorm doing it at that hour, but if your cock is demanding attention three fuckin’ times in a night, who knows? I had it bad, but not as bad as that!”
“I guess I could try it. It feels kinda funny to jack off with my roommate that close.”
“But haven’t you done that already? Ya know, when the lights are out?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think he knew. Turns out he did all along.”
“That guy always knows. I hope he works for the good ol’ USA’s espionage department one day.”
“You think it’d be a problem? But why am I even asking? He and I have talked about this already.”
“Lemme guess,” said Kirk. “He noted that it’s perfectly natural for all guys in the dorm to want to beat their meat 24/7 and it shouldn’t be a problem if you guys do, right?”
“Bingo.”
“I think he’s right, Skye. You could at least try it. We can talk more about this after practice if you want, provided the three Dork Stooges don’t come up with some lunatic plan for the showers.” He grinned and continued undressing. Skye removed his own shirt and sneakers and shucked down his jeans.
“No double underwear today?” asked Kirk.
“Don’t need it on Mondays. I don’t have Spanish.” Suddenly, out of the ancient past, his Trickster ancestor popped into his mind and a little mischief occurred to him. He turned to Kirk.
“Hey, dude. Wanna see something weird but also funny?”
“Sure. What?”
“Watch this.” Skye looked down at his boxer briefs, focused for a moment on the outline of his cock head, and whispered the word, “Maria.”
With snake-like speed, his dick sprang up and tented the front of his underwear, bobbing a little.
Kirk burst out laughing. “Holy fuck!” he exclaimed. “When I said you had it bad, I had no idea! I’ve never seen a dick respond that quickly in my life, even when the guys are fooling around with dick competitions and stuff in the locker room.” He paused. He had, of course, seen Skye’s flaccid penis many times at this point, but he had never seen it hard. He whistled. “Jesus, dude. You really have got a monster. Amazing.” He shook his head. “But,” he added, “what are you gonna do now? We got practice.”
“Fuck, I know,” said Skye, gritting his teeth. “How am I gonna manage…?”
Kirk leaned in. “Lemme tell you about this 89-year-old granny I fucked the other day. She had no teeth and stringy gray hair and all her old-folks home friend wanted to see us fuck…” He grinned. For just a moment, Skye thought his friend was serious and he was instantly grabbed by the story. Then…
“Hey, it worked, you fucker. Gross.” His dick started to deflate. “Wait… was that true?”
Kirk grabbed his jock from the locker and mock-whipped Skye as if he were an insolent servant. “No, dummy. It’s just a trick to get rid of erections. Duh.” He laughed and pulled on his strap. “Don’t forget to double jock for practice, man. You’ll need to do that until this whole episode gets under control.
“Right,” said Skye. He pulled on Kirk’s loaner jock and then his own, settling his large cock and balls in the pouches. “I hope I don’t fucking leak precum or anything.”
"Well, since that's the point, could you at least wear your jock next to your cock and mine over it?"
"Oh yeah. Sure. Sorry.
Kirk smiled a crooked smile. “Yeah, let’s hope keep that precum under control for the next two hours. Although…” he added with an afterthought of sorts, “ I mean… we are a of bunch hotties…” That smile again and then the two of them finished dressing and went off to the practice room.
Skye was grateful that the following day, Monday, was uneventful in the extreme. Meals were low-key, classes were interesting enough, and he continued to feel that maybe he would be able to maintain a decent academic standing, despite that being a new experience for him
He proceeded to the locker room that afternoon in a relatively good mood. Kirk was at his locker, as usual, pulling off his shirt. “Hey, stud. How’s it hangin’?”
Skye smiled, a little shyly. “Today was ok, thanks, but…”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
“I had these serious dreams on Saturday night, and then I had another one of those three-times-in-one-night episodes.”
“ ‘Episodes’,” said Kirk, trying on the expression for size, so to speak.” Truth is, you’re just a horn dog. What are we gonna do about that?”
“Well, what did you do when you were a freshman?”
“I tried everything, man,” said Kirk ruefully. “I tried sleeping nude, then sleeping with pajamas. I even tried sleeping with jeans but it felt like my hard-on was gonna rip the fucking fabric!” He laughed.
Skye countered: “Charlie thinks if maybe I…” He paused a little embarrassed. “You know, if I…”
“Beat off just before falling asleep? I’ve heard that might work. I mean, it kind of makes sense, and you'd hardly be the only guy in the dorm doing it at that hour, but if your cock is demanding attention three fuckin’ times in a night, who knows? I had it bad, but not as bad as that!”
“I guess I could try it. It feels kinda funny to jack off with my roommate that close.”
“But haven’t you done that already? Ya know, when the lights are out?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think he knew. Turns out he did all along.”
“That guy always knows. I hope he works for the good ol’ USA’s espionage department one day.”
“You think it’d be a problem? But why am I even asking? He and I have talked about this already.”
“Lemme guess,” said Kirk. “He noted that it’s perfectly natural for all guys in the dorm to want to beat their meat 24/7 and it shouldn’t be a problem if you guys do, right?”
“Bingo.”
“I think he’s right, Skye. You could at least try it. We can talk more about this after practice if you want, provided the three Dork Stooges don’t come up with some lunatic plan for the showers.” He grinned and continued undressing. Skye removed his own shirt and sneakers and shucked down his jeans.
“No double underwear today?” asked Kirk.
“Don’t need it on Mondays. I don’t have Spanish.” Suddenly, out of the ancient past, his Trickster ancestor popped into his mind and a little mischief occurred to him. He turned to Kirk.
“Hey, dude. Wanna see something weird but also funny?”
“Sure. What?”
“Watch this.” Skye looked down at his boxer briefs, focused for a moment on the outline of his cock head, and whispered the word, “Maria.”
With snake-like speed, his dick sprang up and tented the front of his underwear, bobbing a little.
Kirk burst out laughing. “Holy fuck!” he exclaimed. “When I said you had it bad, I had no idea! I’ve never seen a dick respond that quickly in my life, even when the guys are fooling around with dick competitions and stuff in the locker room.” He paused. He had, of course, seen Skye’s flaccid penis many times at this point, but he had never seen it hard. He whistled. “Jesus, dude. You really have got a monster. Amazing.” He shook his head. “But,” he added, “what are you gonna do now? We got practice.”
“Fuck, I know,” said Skye, gritting his teeth. “How am I gonna manage…?”
Kirk leaned in. “Lemme tell you about this 89-year-old granny I fucked the other day. She had no teeth and stringy gray hair and all her old-folks home friend wanted to see us fuck…” He grinned. For just a moment, Skye thought his friend was serious and he was instantly grabbed by the story. Then…
“Hey, it worked, you fucker. Gross.” His dick started to deflate. “Wait… was that true?”
Kirk grabbed his jock from the locker and mock-whipped Skye as if he were an insolent servant. “No, dummy. It’s just a trick to get rid of erections. Duh.” He laughed and pulled on his strap. “Don’t forget to double jock for practice, man. You’ll need to do that until this whole episode gets under control.
“Right,” said Skye. He pulled on Kirk’s loaner jock and then his own, settling his large cock and balls in the pouches. “I hope I don’t fucking leak precum or anything.”
"Well, since that's the point, could you at least wear your jock next to your cock and mine over it?"
"Oh yeah. Sure. Sorry.
Kirk smiled a crooked smile. “Yeah, let’s hope keep that precum under control for the next two hours. Although…” he added with an afterthought of sorts, “ I mean… we are a of bunch hotties…” That smile again and then the two of them finished dressing and went off to the practice room.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 67: Jock Jump
At the end of practice, in familiar routine, the guys from the team entered the locker room, yet again exhausted, though also exhilarated from their grueling workout. Most of them sank onto the benches in front of their lockers, trying to get a little energy to go shower. After five or so minutes, they started to undress. Skye had only just become aware that there were almost as many ways to undress as there were individual wrestlers: shirt first, then shoes; shoes and socks, then shorts; even one shoe, a shirt, one sock, etc. in a curiously desultory manner. Each guy seemed to have his routine. Skye found himself idling wondering about what they were like before college. He found himself picturing well-appointed rooms like the families on tv: a desk with matching dresser, a neatly made bed, clothes organized and hanging in closets… not at all like his tiny room in the trailer on the Rez, which was usually a mess. One thing he felt sure of, though, was that as disparate as his life experience thus far had been from the other guys’, he found it perfectly easy to imagine them constantly playing with their cocks and balls, the way guys do at that—or really any—age. Neat surroundings or not, once the cock was in hand, none of that stuff seemed to matter, or at least Skye assumed. The constant cock and balls tugging that went on in the locker room seemed to affirm this theory; if they groped their equipment here, he knew they were more intentional about it in their rooms growing up.
Just as he could start to feel the energy shift and rise a little, as guys stripped, he heard the infamous Three Stooges calling out with yet another activity. I swear… those guys… I wonder if Coach puts ‘em up to it just to improve our endurance, he thought.
Brad jumped on a bench near the door and, using a bullhorn he’d procured somewhere, he spoke in his “Announcement” voice, stentorian in volume, eloquent in content.
“Now hear this! Today, we have a new competition for all you jocks. And it involves…. Your JOCKS! Everyone meet us at the practice mat here in the locker room either wearing your jock or carrying it. You have two minutes. Keven will time you!”
As usual, the team groaned but also as usual, they all obeyed. Just as a workout might be hard but made them feel good once it was over, so these games seemed ridiculous, given the enervated state they were in, but they knew that they’d be glad once they’d participated.
Those who hadn’t stripped yet, took off all their clothes except their jocks. Those who were naked, anticipating a shower, either grabbed their jocks and proceeded to the mat, or pulled them back on, not knowing, of course, that they’d have to strip anyway in a few minutes.
All 25 or so guys stood at the mat, naked or jocked, and looked inquisitively at Brad.
“Ok, fuckers, here's the deal. You’ll see we have four benches around the—“ here he paused in order to show off his intellect—“around the periphery of the mat. If you don't know what ‘periphery’ is, you’re a dork. Will and Kevin will demonstrate with me.”
The other two-thirds of The Three Stooges approached Brad from either side. All three were jocked, but then Brad reached into his waistband and yanked down his well worn jock and stepped out of it. He handed the jock to Will, whose dark skin was gleaming with sweat, providing a startling contrast with the white jock he was wearing. Kevin’s olive skin also set off his supporter, though in a somewhat less dramatic manner. Both pouches were well rounded, but this was no secret; all the guys on the team knew what everybody’s cock and balls looked like in a jock, or in the shower, or on the mat.
Brad turned around, his ass to his audience, and stepped up on the padded weight bench. He then turned back around, facing the others and letting his cock hang and his balls sway gently.
“This,” he proclaimed, “is the Jockstrap Jump. It’s a test of your accuracy and sense of distance. The two helpers”—here he indicated Will and Kevin with a mock flourish—“will hold open my jock. The goal is to jump up in the air and land in the jock, with the leg straps in the right place. Once there, you have to readjust so it fits right, and then race around the entire periphery of the locker room and return here while we time you. We will act as judges and deduct points if your jock isn’t on properly; it must fit just as it would for practice. Points off for twisted straps or waistbands that are too low, etc. This is at the sole discretion of your most devoted judges: us.”
The other guys laughed at this whole absurd operation, but they saw it as a lark and a good way to re-energize.
Brad then spoke up: “I will demonstrate for you, if my beautiful ASSistants”—here he slapped his own ass to emphasize the pun—“will prepare the jock.”
Will and Kevin nodded at him. Each grabbed the front of the waistband on either side of the label. They then held the waistband between their thumb and the first knuckle of the hand holding it and reached down to curl their fingers under the point of the pouch, pulling it forward but making sure there was enough curvature of the pouch so the jumper’s cock and balls could land properly. With their other hands, each took hold of one leg strap and pulled it back, thus creating a kind of targeted aperture that the jumper’s leg could slide into. After he had jumped, they would adjust the pouch with the jumper’s help, make last-minute corrections, and slap the jumper on the jocked ass to send him on his circuit.
“Observe, gentlemen,” announced Brad. “Ready?”
“Ready!” said the other two.
“Here goes!” Brad jumped in the air and quickly straightened his legs, keeping his feet about 12 inches apart. He guided his pointed toes expertly through the prepared leg straps openings, “sticking” the landing like a gymnast. With practiced hands, all three guys tugged here and there making the necessary changes, and then Kevin and Will both slapped his butt and off he sped around the locker room. Kevin, who had started his watch on “Here goes,” stared at it until Brad returned to the starting point.
“15.4 seconds!” cried Kevin. “Not bad for a trial.”
Brad bent over a little, hands on his knees, balls still swaying, catching his breath. “Ok, dudes,” he continued authoritatively, “figure out who the jock holders will be in your group and we’ll start in a minute.”
With surprising eagerness, the guys quickly organized their teams. Perhaps their long practices together or maybe just their social nudity made it easy to understand each other and literally within a minute, they were all set.
“We’ll run two out of the four teams at a time through four rounds, so Will and Kevin can time them.” He looked to see how the teams had set themselves up and noticed how smoothly they’d done it. Skye and Kirk were with Mike Z—winner of the Abominable Monster “Sudsman” contest— and Randy—the fellow who’d showed Skye how his dad had taught him to squeegee himself after a shower. Skye and Kirk held the jock, and Mike Z. stood on the bench. He was a large guy but seemed graceful enough.
“And now”—here Brad assumed his best old-fashioned sports announcer voice--“Take your marks! Get set! GO!”
Four naked guys jumped in the air at once. A slow motion film of the moment would have seen cocks flipping up to stomachs and balls flying up to follow. Mike Z nailed his leg strap entrance and even got his penis and testicles to land directly into the pouch, saving precious readjustment time. Kirk untwisted one leg strap and slapped his butt, sending him racing around the room. He finished a full second before any of the others.
“Round one! The winner is Mike Z’s team!” announced Brad.
The guys were laughing and breathing hard. A couple didn’t even seem to be able to catch their breath as they saw poor Andrew running in last place with only one leg through the strap, which meant the pouch didn’t contain his equipment properly, so it flopped like a fish as he bellowed and ran his heart out.
“Points deducted for improper strappage!” cried Kevin authoritatively.
After that, the contest was no contest. Randy landed in his jock with the grace of a danseur, Kirk was less elegant but astonishingly fast for a guy his size, and Skye took the record of the entire event by finishing his jocked lap in under 11 seconds. He arrived at the end of the locker room run and was welcomed with high-fives and more slaps on the ass. Randy said, “I gotta admit. I was worried. I figured junk your size would slow you down, but maybe that’s only hung swimmers whose cock and balls get in the way of speed!”
Peals of laughter filled the locker room. Cries of “What’s the prize?!” echoed off the walls.
“For the next four days,” answered Brad, “everyone has to wait until the four guys on the winning team have finished showering. Only then can the rest of you plebes get your shot. And the winners are allowed to take as long as they fucking want in the shower.”
“Fuck!” said voices in the assembled group. “Knowing Mike Z, we’ll never get a shower. I swear that guy takes an hour. And next week, he’ll probably spend a lot of time jacking his meat in the shower, just to delay us.” Mock groans filled the air. “He’s just like his cousin, Wells. Can’t stop himself!”
Skye was surprised to hear that Wells and Mike Z were cousins and commented on that. Kirk replied, “Yeah, they are. You can tell if you look carefully. I mean, not at their features but at their behavior. Haven’t you noticed that Mike Z is always last out of the showers?”
Skye reflected a moment and realized that he had vaguely formed some idea of the order of guys in the shower: who was first-in, first-out, who lingered, etc., and he began to recall that Mike Z did indeed have a penchant for being the last.
“Wait a sec,” said Skye. “You know Wells is in my dorm, right? And Charlie’s always razzing him about beating off in the dorm showers, but I was never sure if he was kidding.”
“Nope. Certainly not kidding about Wells. That guy has beat off in every shower on this campus, I think. At least Mike Z is more discreet; if he does beat off here—and I’m not saying he does—at least he waits till the shower room’s empty.”
Even after the time he’d spent with the team and in the dorm, Skye still felt a little odd discussing masturbation so openly with Kirk, but he was getting used to it.
“Maybe it’s an inherited trait from their grandpa,” he offered.
“Maybe,” answered Kirk, “but who cares? As long as he doesn’t shoot on me!” He grinned. “C’mon, let’s hit the showers.”
The usual good humor prevailed in the shower room. Brad and company had done their job well.
At the end of practice, in familiar routine, the guys from the team entered the locker room, yet again exhausted, though also exhilarated from their grueling workout. Most of them sank onto the benches in front of their lockers, trying to get a little energy to go shower. After five or so minutes, they started to undress. Skye had only just become aware that there were almost as many ways to undress as there were individual wrestlers: shirt first, then shoes; shoes and socks, then shorts; even one shoe, a shirt, one sock, etc. in a curiously desultory manner. Each guy seemed to have his routine. Skye found himself idling wondering about what they were like before college. He found himself picturing well-appointed rooms like the families on tv: a desk with matching dresser, a neatly made bed, clothes organized and hanging in closets… not at all like his tiny room in the trailer on the Rez, which was usually a mess. One thing he felt sure of, though, was that as disparate as his life experience thus far had been from the other guys’, he found it perfectly easy to imagine them constantly playing with their cocks and balls, the way guys do at that—or really any—age. Neat surroundings or not, once the cock was in hand, none of that stuff seemed to matter, or at least Skye assumed. The constant cock and balls tugging that went on in the locker room seemed to affirm this theory; if they groped their equipment here, he knew they were more intentional about it in their rooms growing up.
Just as he could start to feel the energy shift and rise a little, as guys stripped, he heard the infamous Three Stooges calling out with yet another activity. I swear… those guys… I wonder if Coach puts ‘em up to it just to improve our endurance, he thought.
Brad jumped on a bench near the door and, using a bullhorn he’d procured somewhere, he spoke in his “Announcement” voice, stentorian in volume, eloquent in content.
“Now hear this! Today, we have a new competition for all you jocks. And it involves…. Your JOCKS! Everyone meet us at the practice mat here in the locker room either wearing your jock or carrying it. You have two minutes. Keven will time you!”
As usual, the team groaned but also as usual, they all obeyed. Just as a workout might be hard but made them feel good once it was over, so these games seemed ridiculous, given the enervated state they were in, but they knew that they’d be glad once they’d participated.
Those who hadn’t stripped yet, took off all their clothes except their jocks. Those who were naked, anticipating a shower, either grabbed their jocks and proceeded to the mat, or pulled them back on, not knowing, of course, that they’d have to strip anyway in a few minutes.
All 25 or so guys stood at the mat, naked or jocked, and looked inquisitively at Brad.
“Ok, fuckers, here's the deal. You’ll see we have four benches around the—“ here he paused in order to show off his intellect—“around the periphery of the mat. If you don't know what ‘periphery’ is, you’re a dork. Will and Kevin will demonstrate with me.”
The other two-thirds of The Three Stooges approached Brad from either side. All three were jocked, but then Brad reached into his waistband and yanked down his well worn jock and stepped out of it. He handed the jock to Will, whose dark skin was gleaming with sweat, providing a startling contrast with the white jock he was wearing. Kevin’s olive skin also set off his supporter, though in a somewhat less dramatic manner. Both pouches were well rounded, but this was no secret; all the guys on the team knew what everybody’s cock and balls looked like in a jock, or in the shower, or on the mat.
Brad turned around, his ass to his audience, and stepped up on the padded weight bench. He then turned back around, facing the others and letting his cock hang and his balls sway gently.
“This,” he proclaimed, “is the Jockstrap Jump. It’s a test of your accuracy and sense of distance. The two helpers”—here he indicated Will and Kevin with a mock flourish—“will hold open my jock. The goal is to jump up in the air and land in the jock, with the leg straps in the right place. Once there, you have to readjust so it fits right, and then race around the entire periphery of the locker room and return here while we time you. We will act as judges and deduct points if your jock isn’t on properly; it must fit just as it would for practice. Points off for twisted straps or waistbands that are too low, etc. This is at the sole discretion of your most devoted judges: us.”
The other guys laughed at this whole absurd operation, but they saw it as a lark and a good way to re-energize.
Brad then spoke up: “I will demonstrate for you, if my beautiful ASSistants”—here he slapped his own ass to emphasize the pun—“will prepare the jock.”
Will and Kevin nodded at him. Each grabbed the front of the waistband on either side of the label. They then held the waistband between their thumb and the first knuckle of the hand holding it and reached down to curl their fingers under the point of the pouch, pulling it forward but making sure there was enough curvature of the pouch so the jumper’s cock and balls could land properly. With their other hands, each took hold of one leg strap and pulled it back, thus creating a kind of targeted aperture that the jumper’s leg could slide into. After he had jumped, they would adjust the pouch with the jumper’s help, make last-minute corrections, and slap the jumper on the jocked ass to send him on his circuit.
“Observe, gentlemen,” announced Brad. “Ready?”
“Ready!” said the other two.
“Here goes!” Brad jumped in the air and quickly straightened his legs, keeping his feet about 12 inches apart. He guided his pointed toes expertly through the prepared leg straps openings, “sticking” the landing like a gymnast. With practiced hands, all three guys tugged here and there making the necessary changes, and then Kevin and Will both slapped his butt and off he sped around the locker room. Kevin, who had started his watch on “Here goes,” stared at it until Brad returned to the starting point.
“15.4 seconds!” cried Kevin. “Not bad for a trial.”
Brad bent over a little, hands on his knees, balls still swaying, catching his breath. “Ok, dudes,” he continued authoritatively, “figure out who the jock holders will be in your group and we’ll start in a minute.”
With surprising eagerness, the guys quickly organized their teams. Perhaps their long practices together or maybe just their social nudity made it easy to understand each other and literally within a minute, they were all set.
“We’ll run two out of the four teams at a time through four rounds, so Will and Kevin can time them.” He looked to see how the teams had set themselves up and noticed how smoothly they’d done it. Skye and Kirk were with Mike Z—winner of the Abominable Monster “Sudsman” contest— and Randy—the fellow who’d showed Skye how his dad had taught him to squeegee himself after a shower. Skye and Kirk held the jock, and Mike Z. stood on the bench. He was a large guy but seemed graceful enough.
“And now”—here Brad assumed his best old-fashioned sports announcer voice--“Take your marks! Get set! GO!”
Four naked guys jumped in the air at once. A slow motion film of the moment would have seen cocks flipping up to stomachs and balls flying up to follow. Mike Z nailed his leg strap entrance and even got his penis and testicles to land directly into the pouch, saving precious readjustment time. Kirk untwisted one leg strap and slapped his butt, sending him racing around the room. He finished a full second before any of the others.
“Round one! The winner is Mike Z’s team!” announced Brad.
The guys were laughing and breathing hard. A couple didn’t even seem to be able to catch their breath as they saw poor Andrew running in last place with only one leg through the strap, which meant the pouch didn’t contain his equipment properly, so it flopped like a fish as he bellowed and ran his heart out.
“Points deducted for improper strappage!” cried Kevin authoritatively.
After that, the contest was no contest. Randy landed in his jock with the grace of a danseur, Kirk was less elegant but astonishingly fast for a guy his size, and Skye took the record of the entire event by finishing his jocked lap in under 11 seconds. He arrived at the end of the locker room run and was welcomed with high-fives and more slaps on the ass. Randy said, “I gotta admit. I was worried. I figured junk your size would slow you down, but maybe that’s only hung swimmers whose cock and balls get in the way of speed!”
Peals of laughter filled the locker room. Cries of “What’s the prize?!” echoed off the walls.
“For the next four days,” answered Brad, “everyone has to wait until the four guys on the winning team have finished showering. Only then can the rest of you plebes get your shot. And the winners are allowed to take as long as they fucking want in the shower.”
“Fuck!” said voices in the assembled group. “Knowing Mike Z, we’ll never get a shower. I swear that guy takes an hour. And next week, he’ll probably spend a lot of time jacking his meat in the shower, just to delay us.” Mock groans filled the air. “He’s just like his cousin, Wells. Can’t stop himself!”
Skye was surprised to hear that Wells and Mike Z were cousins and commented on that. Kirk replied, “Yeah, they are. You can tell if you look carefully. I mean, not at their features but at their behavior. Haven’t you noticed that Mike Z is always last out of the showers?”
Skye reflected a moment and realized that he had vaguely formed some idea of the order of guys in the shower: who was first-in, first-out, who lingered, etc., and he began to recall that Mike Z did indeed have a penchant for being the last.
“Wait a sec,” said Skye. “You know Wells is in my dorm, right? And Charlie’s always razzing him about beating off in the dorm showers, but I was never sure if he was kidding.”
“Nope. Certainly not kidding about Wells. That guy has beat off in every shower on this campus, I think. At least Mike Z is more discreet; if he does beat off here—and I’m not saying he does—at least he waits till the shower room’s empty.”
Even after the time he’d spent with the team and in the dorm, Skye still felt a little odd discussing masturbation so openly with Kirk, but he was getting used to it.
“Maybe it’s an inherited trait from their grandpa,” he offered.
“Maybe,” answered Kirk, “but who cares? As long as he doesn’t shoot on me!” He grinned. “C’mon, let’s hit the showers.”
The usual good humor prevailed in the shower room. Brad and company had done their job well.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 68. Prize Shower
Kirk, Randy, Skye, and Mike Z proudly went back to their lockers, tossed their jocks inside, grabbed their towels, and headed back to the showers. The other guys stood like a Paris mob, kinda growling in fun at having to be kept waiting while the winners took their sweet time. And in fact, the four guys did saunter rather than walk as they slowly made their way past the guys on either side and ambled into the shower area. Kirk, however, stopped and whispered something in Brad’s ear, and the latter nodded to show he understood.
The four winners took adjacent shower heads and Kirk said something to them as well, which the crowd could not hear. They did take an extraordinarily long time to do a preliminary soak, all the while keeping up banter with the excluded crowd, just to rile them up: “Oooohh…. I just Lo-o-ove a LONG hot soak before I actually soap up, don’t you?” and “Gosh, I think I’ll have to work this soap for twice as long as normal since it doesn’t seem to lather.” They spent a good deal of time clowning around by focusing on dime-sized spots on their bodies that they scrubbed with the diligence of a painter with turpentine. They even washed each other’s backs at a very deliberate speed.
The crowd, meanwhile, was starting to get antsy. “Hurry the fuck UP, man!” and “What the hell?! He’s going to wash his junk again?? He just did that for like 10 minutes!” The humor in the room was notable, but there was no denying an undercurrent of impatience or even incipient anger.
As if on cue, all four winners turned off their showers simultaneously, and took tiny steps toward their towels on the hooks near the entrance to the showers. “Finally!” said someone in the crowd. “Move it, assholes!”
Skye was about half a step ahead of Kirk and a little to his left as he headed for the opening to the room. His mentor, however, piped up: ”Hang on, Skye. I don’t think you got that last bit of shampoo out of the hair at the nape of your neck. I think we’d better take care of that.”
Playing along, Skye responded, “Oh thanks, man. I mean, I don’t wanna go out there with shampoo in my hair.”
Mike Z joined in: “And you know, we are a team, so we’d better do this together.” They all four rotated on their heels and returned to the showers heads and started the whole process again.
The crowd went apeshit. “Fuuuuuuck! Are you fucking kidding me? I gotta shower, douchebags. Get the fuck out!"
Brad assumed his scolding voice and admonished the protester: “Now, now… let’s be patient. I mean, if your team had won, just imagine how long they would take!”
“Fuck off!” was the response.
Unperturbed, Brad announced, “I will say this: through their generous spirit, the guys have agreed to limit their winning slo-mo showers to just this afternoon, instead of the announced 4 days, so y’all will be done soon, right, Kirk?”
Kirk turned and yelled, “Yeah, we’re done. C’mon guys.” The others turned off their showers and started to the entrance. A couple of guys tried to enter the shower area before it had been fully vacated but were stopped by the Three Stooges. Just as the four winners were within a couple of feet of the opening, Randy piped up, “Wait a second! I can see a tiny piece of dirt on the lower part of Kirk’s back. We’d better all go back and shower, just to be safe!” This elicited howls of good-natured protest that rang off the walls, but the quartet was not to be intimidated, and back they walked, all four turning on their showers and making a big display of thoroughly cleaning every inch of their bodies.
After another five minutes, they turned off the showers and turned to see a silent, grim group of athletes, ready, it seemed, to attack at the slightest provocation. Brad turned to Kirk and Company and said, “I’m not sure I can hold ‘em.” This statement coincided with the feeling among the crowd that it was time to stop the “game” and so the four teammates continued, albeit at an agonizingly slow pace, toward their towels. Brad and his crew moved aside, and the team swept in like the Red Sea, one guy saying, “I’ll bet there’s no hot water left” and another threatening, “Oh man. You’ve done it now. It’ll be shaving cream in your locker or Icy-Hot in your jock pouch.”
Like struts on a bridge, the four winners supported each other by their mere presence and were not daunted. They simply turned away with a feeling of wellbeing; they had, after all, earned the right. They laughed as they returned to their lockers, dressed, and headed out. They were to find in the coming days that none of the “threats” materialized; as they had suspected, such language was mere bantering.
Kirk, Randy, Skye, and Mike Z proudly went back to their lockers, tossed their jocks inside, grabbed their towels, and headed back to the showers. The other guys stood like a Paris mob, kinda growling in fun at having to be kept waiting while the winners took their sweet time. And in fact, the four guys did saunter rather than walk as they slowly made their way past the guys on either side and ambled into the shower area. Kirk, however, stopped and whispered something in Brad’s ear, and the latter nodded to show he understood.
The four winners took adjacent shower heads and Kirk said something to them as well, which the crowd could not hear. They did take an extraordinarily long time to do a preliminary soak, all the while keeping up banter with the excluded crowd, just to rile them up: “Oooohh…. I just Lo-o-ove a LONG hot soak before I actually soap up, don’t you?” and “Gosh, I think I’ll have to work this soap for twice as long as normal since it doesn’t seem to lather.” They spent a good deal of time clowning around by focusing on dime-sized spots on their bodies that they scrubbed with the diligence of a painter with turpentine. They even washed each other’s backs at a very deliberate speed.
The crowd, meanwhile, was starting to get antsy. “Hurry the fuck UP, man!” and “What the hell?! He’s going to wash his junk again?? He just did that for like 10 minutes!” The humor in the room was notable, but there was no denying an undercurrent of impatience or even incipient anger.
As if on cue, all four winners turned off their showers simultaneously, and took tiny steps toward their towels on the hooks near the entrance to the showers. “Finally!” said someone in the crowd. “Move it, assholes!”
Skye was about half a step ahead of Kirk and a little to his left as he headed for the opening to the room. His mentor, however, piped up: ”Hang on, Skye. I don’t think you got that last bit of shampoo out of the hair at the nape of your neck. I think we’d better take care of that.”
Playing along, Skye responded, “Oh thanks, man. I mean, I don’t wanna go out there with shampoo in my hair.”
Mike Z joined in: “And you know, we are a team, so we’d better do this together.” They all four rotated on their heels and returned to the showers heads and started the whole process again.
The crowd went apeshit. “Fuuuuuuck! Are you fucking kidding me? I gotta shower, douchebags. Get the fuck out!"
Brad assumed his scolding voice and admonished the protester: “Now, now… let’s be patient. I mean, if your team had won, just imagine how long they would take!”
“Fuck off!” was the response.
Unperturbed, Brad announced, “I will say this: through their generous spirit, the guys have agreed to limit their winning slo-mo showers to just this afternoon, instead of the announced 4 days, so y’all will be done soon, right, Kirk?”
Kirk turned and yelled, “Yeah, we’re done. C’mon guys.” The others turned off their showers and started to the entrance. A couple of guys tried to enter the shower area before it had been fully vacated but were stopped by the Three Stooges. Just as the four winners were within a couple of feet of the opening, Randy piped up, “Wait a second! I can see a tiny piece of dirt on the lower part of Kirk’s back. We’d better all go back and shower, just to be safe!” This elicited howls of good-natured protest that rang off the walls, but the quartet was not to be intimidated, and back they walked, all four turning on their showers and making a big display of thoroughly cleaning every inch of their bodies.
After another five minutes, they turned off the showers and turned to see a silent, grim group of athletes, ready, it seemed, to attack at the slightest provocation. Brad turned to Kirk and Company and said, “I’m not sure I can hold ‘em.” This statement coincided with the feeling among the crowd that it was time to stop the “game” and so the four teammates continued, albeit at an agonizingly slow pace, toward their towels. Brad and his crew moved aside, and the team swept in like the Red Sea, one guy saying, “I’ll bet there’s no hot water left” and another threatening, “Oh man. You’ve done it now. It’ll be shaving cream in your locker or Icy-Hot in your jock pouch.”
Like struts on a bridge, the four winners supported each other by their mere presence and were not daunted. They simply turned away with a feeling of wellbeing; they had, after all, earned the right. They laughed as they returned to their lockers, dressed, and headed out. They were to find in the coming days that none of the “threats” materialized; as they had suspected, such language was mere bantering.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch 69 Groundwork
At the dining hall. Kirk stuck close to Skye, though the latter didn’t really notice it, being engaged in joking and conversation with the other wrestlers. They grabbed their trays and Kirk subtly guided Skye to a table where Charlie was sitting alone. Though he was used to their company by now, of course, once in a while Skye stopped to consider how lucky he was to have these two guys with him.
After some minutes of random chat, Skye noticed Charlie and Kirk exchanging furtive glances, and he asked, “What’s up? You guys got something on your minds?”
Charlie looked at him, slightly embarrassed for the first time since Skye had known him.
“Well,” began Charlie, “I hope you don’t mind, but… I kinda shared your dream from the other night with Kirk. I figured you wouldn’t mind since he’s your mentor. And to be honest, I’m a little worried about you, Skye. I don’t want things to get out of control and ruin your experience here.”
At the words I kinda shared Skye felt anger rising in him again, based on his early life experiences of the futility of keeping anything secret on the gossip-infested Rez, but a moment later he realized he himself had told Kirk about the triple-orgasm. The intimacy of the emotional, father-centered part of his dream, he had kept to himself, but he became aware he was probably going to tell Kirk anyway. By the end of Charlie’s little introduction, he had calmed down.
“Dude,” he said to Charlie, “it’s ok. I already told Kirk about the 3-jizz situation.”
“Yeah, I figured,” answered Charlie, “but I also told him about your dream and how you woke up so unhappy that night.”
“Well, I suppose that was kind of private in a way, but I probably would have told him myself."
Kirk broke in: “Look, Skye, Charlie brought me in on this cuz he doesn’t want past experiences to get in the way. You and I haven’t actually talked much about the whole “father” situation, but I keep meaning to, and I know it’s killin’ ya sometimes, right?”
The word “father,” as it always did, galvanized Skye’s psyche, but he also knew that talking about it was crucial and that he couldn’t ask for two more open-minded friends.
“It just sucks, man,” said the Native. “I never had a dad to do anything with me, and even the other guys on the Rez with deadbeat dads at least saw theirs once in a while. I never did. Charlie thinks that dream I had is my… I dunno… inner self trying to fix the problem. I don’t see how, though.”
Charlie’s pre-psychiatrist mode injected itself. “Well, I know from class and reading that your unconscious is trying to find some kind of father figure. That’s why I mentioned that quotation, the one about guys needing a younger guy admiring them and an older guy they themselves can admire. That dream means you’re seeking a critical part of yourself. It’s kind of like a bike that’s missing a crucial bolt and the whole thing can fall apart any minute.”
Skye thought about this image and slowly became aware that virtually all the other guys had left the dining room. “Can we go back and talk about this in the room?” he asked.
“Sure thing,” said Kirk. As they collected their dishes and bussed their trays, Skye found himself unsure about how to proceed. At least, he thought, these guys can help me figure this out.
As they exited the dining hall and walked back to the dorm, Kirk said, “Seems to me there are two things here. One, you’re gonna have to address the whole father thing by discussing it with Charlie.”
Charlie piped up, “True, but I have to say, you might need someone who’s more experienced than me, like a counselor here on campus.”
“A counselor?” asked Skye? “No thanks. I wouldn’t even know what to say.”
“Lemme finish,” said Charlie, “or if that’s too much, you and I can talk more about it. It also occurred to me that you could find some other dudes whose dads weren’t in the picture. It always helps to hear some other guy’s story.”
That made sense to Skye, and he noted fleetingly that he was surprisingly comfortable in the imagined scenario of talking with other guys about absent dads.
“That’s the first part,” continued Kirk. “The second part is what to do about this babe, Maria.” As if on cue, both Charlie and Kirk instantly swiveled their heads and stared at Skye’s crotch momentarily. However, their expectation was thwarted, possibly by the walk; Skye’s penis did not react as it had before.
“There!” said Kirk. “Problem solved.”
“We’ll see,” answered Charlie. “Let’s see how it goes when we’re in the dorm.”
At the dining hall. Kirk stuck close to Skye, though the latter didn’t really notice it, being engaged in joking and conversation with the other wrestlers. They grabbed their trays and Kirk subtly guided Skye to a table where Charlie was sitting alone. Though he was used to their company by now, of course, once in a while Skye stopped to consider how lucky he was to have these two guys with him.
After some minutes of random chat, Skye noticed Charlie and Kirk exchanging furtive glances, and he asked, “What’s up? You guys got something on your minds?”
Charlie looked at him, slightly embarrassed for the first time since Skye had known him.
“Well,” began Charlie, “I hope you don’t mind, but… I kinda shared your dream from the other night with Kirk. I figured you wouldn’t mind since he’s your mentor. And to be honest, I’m a little worried about you, Skye. I don’t want things to get out of control and ruin your experience here.”
At the words I kinda shared Skye felt anger rising in him again, based on his early life experiences of the futility of keeping anything secret on the gossip-infested Rez, but a moment later he realized he himself had told Kirk about the triple-orgasm. The intimacy of the emotional, father-centered part of his dream, he had kept to himself, but he became aware he was probably going to tell Kirk anyway. By the end of Charlie’s little introduction, he had calmed down.
“Dude,” he said to Charlie, “it’s ok. I already told Kirk about the 3-jizz situation.”
“Yeah, I figured,” answered Charlie, “but I also told him about your dream and how you woke up so unhappy that night.”
“Well, I suppose that was kind of private in a way, but I probably would have told him myself."
Kirk broke in: “Look, Skye, Charlie brought me in on this cuz he doesn’t want past experiences to get in the way. You and I haven’t actually talked much about the whole “father” situation, but I keep meaning to, and I know it’s killin’ ya sometimes, right?”
The word “father,” as it always did, galvanized Skye’s psyche, but he also knew that talking about it was crucial and that he couldn’t ask for two more open-minded friends.
“It just sucks, man,” said the Native. “I never had a dad to do anything with me, and even the other guys on the Rez with deadbeat dads at least saw theirs once in a while. I never did. Charlie thinks that dream I had is my… I dunno… inner self trying to fix the problem. I don’t see how, though.”
Charlie’s pre-psychiatrist mode injected itself. “Well, I know from class and reading that your unconscious is trying to find some kind of father figure. That’s why I mentioned that quotation, the one about guys needing a younger guy admiring them and an older guy they themselves can admire. That dream means you’re seeking a critical part of yourself. It’s kind of like a bike that’s missing a crucial bolt and the whole thing can fall apart any minute.”
Skye thought about this image and slowly became aware that virtually all the other guys had left the dining room. “Can we go back and talk about this in the room?” he asked.
“Sure thing,” said Kirk. As they collected their dishes and bussed their trays, Skye found himself unsure about how to proceed. At least, he thought, these guys can help me figure this out.
As they exited the dining hall and walked back to the dorm, Kirk said, “Seems to me there are two things here. One, you’re gonna have to address the whole father thing by discussing it with Charlie.”
Charlie piped up, “True, but I have to say, you might need someone who’s more experienced than me, like a counselor here on campus.”
“A counselor?” asked Skye? “No thanks. I wouldn’t even know what to say.”
“Lemme finish,” said Charlie, “or if that’s too much, you and I can talk more about it. It also occurred to me that you could find some other dudes whose dads weren’t in the picture. It always helps to hear some other guy’s story.”
That made sense to Skye, and he noted fleetingly that he was surprisingly comfortable in the imagined scenario of talking with other guys about absent dads.
“That’s the first part,” continued Kirk. “The second part is what to do about this babe, Maria.” As if on cue, both Charlie and Kirk instantly swiveled their heads and stared at Skye’s crotch momentarily. However, their expectation was thwarted, possibly by the walk; Skye’s penis did not react as it had before.
“There!” said Kirk. “Problem solved.”
“We’ll see,” answered Charlie. “Let’s see how it goes when we’re in the dorm.”
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch 70a. Strategies
The three students entered the dormitory and walked up to Skye and Charlie’s room. They heard noise from across the hall and both Skye and Charlie anticipated that Chris would be bursting through into their room any minute with details of his “sexploits.” Both hoped he would stay away for a while.
Once inside Charlie stripped naked without even thinking about it, and Skye also preoccupied with the topic and unaware, also took off his shirt, shoes and pants in order to change into some sweatpants he’d taken from the Lost-and-Found. He paused in his recently purchased blue boxer briefs. He prompted Kirk: “You said we’d talked about the first part. I guess we gotta talk about the second one?”
“Um… seems kinda important, doesn’t it? We gotta figure out how to keep you from overdoing it with this Mar…” he stopped before completing the name. “With that chick from Spanish.. Lemme get this straight. The first two times all you did was look at her—once as she was walking away in the library and once when she was in your small group in Spanish—and you fuckin’ shot your load? Is that right?”
Skye looked down, embarrassed and at a loss.
Kirk looked at Charlie. They had clearly discussed this before.
“Ok, man,” said Kirk, “I know this will sound weird, but I’ve heard it has worked on other guys.”
Skye had no idea what was coming. Kirk’s comment almost sounded like he was going to punch him in the balls to get them under control!
“I knew a guy who had it bad like you… worse than me… and this is what he did.” Kirk reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a three-pack of condoms.
“What the fuck?” asked Skye. Although he had no sexual experience of any kind, he at least knew what condoms were. “What the hell am I supposed to do with those?”
“Just listen, will ya? Like I said, this’ll sound weird, but if you don’t wanna splooge all over your clothes every time you lay eyes on… on that girl, here’s what you can do.”
Skye was simultaneously confused, irritated, and fascinated. He had not expected this.
“You just put a condom on your soft dick and wear it for class. That way, if you get a boner and you start to spurt, the condom is there to contain it.”
“Which is, after all,” said Charlie, “what they’re designed to do.”
Skye stared at the two of them. He could see that they actually meant well, but the whole situation was just too weird.
A long pause followed. The scene was almost comical: Skye sitting in his underwear on the edge of his bed, looking at his buddies; Kirk with a pack of condoms hanging from his hand and an inquisitive look in his eye; Charlie naked and staring expectantly at his roommate.
“But… I mean… aren’t condoms for when you have a hard-on? I mean, how would it even stay on, for Chrissake?”
“I knew you’d ask that, even though I know you’ve never worn one.”
How did he know that? Skye wondered momentarily.
“But dude, unless you’re incredibly… um… unaware?… shit, what’s that word, Charlie?”
“Obtuse is what you want, man.”
“Yeah, obtuse. Unless you’re obtuse, you finally understand that you have way oversized equipment, and I guaran-fucking-tee you that this condom will stay on your dick even when it’s soft.”
At this, Skye’s head reeled. He had learned in a relatively short time to be candid about cocks and balls, but there was something about wearing a device specifically designed for sexual intercourse when he was in a flaccid state that just blew his mind.
“You can’t be serious, dude,” he protested. “How do you know it’ll even fit?”
“Told you already; we’ve all seen your cock, man. It’s big enough flaccid to keep this little wrapper on, and that way, if you do shoot your load, no one—especially Maria—will know… oh, oops!”
Kirk had forgotten to censor himself and sure enough, once the name was out, Skye’s dick responded quickly and savagely in his underwear, and the reaction was obvious to the other two, who couldn’t help grinning.
“Jesus, man” said Kirk, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Yeah, you say that like it’s a good thing,” countered Skye, “but it’s awful in class.”
“So…” interrupted Charlie, “all the more reason to try our scheme. It can’t hurt you, and it just might work.”
Skye paused, doubtful. He looked at the condom packages and then up at Kirk, who raised one eyebrow inquisitively and asked, “Well?”
“Fuck, man. This is just fucking weird. Spending all morning with a condom on my soft cock?”
“Well,” said Charlie in his best therapist’s voice, “it might not be soft the whole morning. That’s the point.”
Skye looked at him and then back at Kirk. Then he said softly, “I don’t even know how to put one on.”
Kirk felt a slight surge of confidence. His plan might end up being accepted. “No problem, buddy,” he said. “We can show you how to do it.”
“Seriously? You’re gonna put a condom on right here?”
“Well, we could put it on ourselves, or we could help you put it on.”
“Whaaat?”
“Hey, you asked. It’s no problem. Just guy stuff.”
At that moment, as anticipated, the door swung open and in jumped Chris in his partially ripped tidy white tease.
“Hey Fuckers!” he called. “Oh, hi, Kirk. Guess what happened!”
“You shot off so hard you made your girlfriend’s dorm collapse?” queried Charlie, exasperated.
“Just about, my friend. Fucked her three times last night, wearing all kinds of stuff: my briefs, some boxers I found, nothing at all!” The grin on his face bespoke a sexually satisfied 19-year-old who anticipated more sex in the near future. “Wanna hear about it? Oh wait… what’s going on here? What’s with the condoms?”
“Nuthin,” said Kirk. “We’re all glad to hear you got laid, but to be blunt, can you piss off? We’re talking about some serious shit here.”
“Oh? What’s that?” asked Chris.
Skye looked pleadingly at Kirk, who already knew enough not to spill the beans.
He assumed a false air of friendship with Chris. “I’ll tell you all about it another time, man. Now, do ya mind?”
Chris took the cue and turned to leave. “Well, okay,” he called, “but I’m gonna tell you about it next time. Bye!”
The three students entered the dormitory and walked up to Skye and Charlie’s room. They heard noise from across the hall and both Skye and Charlie anticipated that Chris would be bursting through into their room any minute with details of his “sexploits.” Both hoped he would stay away for a while.
Once inside Charlie stripped naked without even thinking about it, and Skye also preoccupied with the topic and unaware, also took off his shirt, shoes and pants in order to change into some sweatpants he’d taken from the Lost-and-Found. He paused in his recently purchased blue boxer briefs. He prompted Kirk: “You said we’d talked about the first part. I guess we gotta talk about the second one?”
“Um… seems kinda important, doesn’t it? We gotta figure out how to keep you from overdoing it with this Mar…” he stopped before completing the name. “With that chick from Spanish.. Lemme get this straight. The first two times all you did was look at her—once as she was walking away in the library and once when she was in your small group in Spanish—and you fuckin’ shot your load? Is that right?”
Skye looked down, embarrassed and at a loss.
Kirk looked at Charlie. They had clearly discussed this before.
“Ok, man,” said Kirk, “I know this will sound weird, but I’ve heard it has worked on other guys.”
Skye had no idea what was coming. Kirk’s comment almost sounded like he was going to punch him in the balls to get them under control!
“I knew a guy who had it bad like you… worse than me… and this is what he did.” Kirk reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a three-pack of condoms.
“What the fuck?” asked Skye. Although he had no sexual experience of any kind, he at least knew what condoms were. “What the hell am I supposed to do with those?”
“Just listen, will ya? Like I said, this’ll sound weird, but if you don’t wanna splooge all over your clothes every time you lay eyes on… on that girl, here’s what you can do.”
Skye was simultaneously confused, irritated, and fascinated. He had not expected this.
“You just put a condom on your soft dick and wear it for class. That way, if you get a boner and you start to spurt, the condom is there to contain it.”
“Which is, after all,” said Charlie, “what they’re designed to do.”
Skye stared at the two of them. He could see that they actually meant well, but the whole situation was just too weird.
A long pause followed. The scene was almost comical: Skye sitting in his underwear on the edge of his bed, looking at his buddies; Kirk with a pack of condoms hanging from his hand and an inquisitive look in his eye; Charlie naked and staring expectantly at his roommate.
“But… I mean… aren’t condoms for when you have a hard-on? I mean, how would it even stay on, for Chrissake?”
“I knew you’d ask that, even though I know you’ve never worn one.”
How did he know that? Skye wondered momentarily.
“But dude, unless you’re incredibly… um… unaware?… shit, what’s that word, Charlie?”
“Obtuse is what you want, man.”
“Yeah, obtuse. Unless you’re obtuse, you finally understand that you have way oversized equipment, and I guaran-fucking-tee you that this condom will stay on your dick even when it’s soft.”
At this, Skye’s head reeled. He had learned in a relatively short time to be candid about cocks and balls, but there was something about wearing a device specifically designed for sexual intercourse when he was in a flaccid state that just blew his mind.
“You can’t be serious, dude,” he protested. “How do you know it’ll even fit?”
“Told you already; we’ve all seen your cock, man. It’s big enough flaccid to keep this little wrapper on, and that way, if you do shoot your load, no one—especially Maria—will know… oh, oops!”
Kirk had forgotten to censor himself and sure enough, once the name was out, Skye’s dick responded quickly and savagely in his underwear, and the reaction was obvious to the other two, who couldn’t help grinning.
“Jesus, man” said Kirk, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Yeah, you say that like it’s a good thing,” countered Skye, “but it’s awful in class.”
“So…” interrupted Charlie, “all the more reason to try our scheme. It can’t hurt you, and it just might work.”
Skye paused, doubtful. He looked at the condom packages and then up at Kirk, who raised one eyebrow inquisitively and asked, “Well?”
“Fuck, man. This is just fucking weird. Spending all morning with a condom on my soft cock?”
“Well,” said Charlie in his best therapist’s voice, “it might not be soft the whole morning. That’s the point.”
Skye looked at him and then back at Kirk. Then he said softly, “I don’t even know how to put one on.”
Kirk felt a slight surge of confidence. His plan might end up being accepted. “No problem, buddy,” he said. “We can show you how to do it.”
“Seriously? You’re gonna put a condom on right here?”
“Well, we could put it on ourselves, or we could help you put it on.”
“Whaaat?”
“Hey, you asked. It’s no problem. Just guy stuff.”
At that moment, as anticipated, the door swung open and in jumped Chris in his partially ripped tidy white tease.
“Hey Fuckers!” he called. “Oh, hi, Kirk. Guess what happened!”
“You shot off so hard you made your girlfriend’s dorm collapse?” queried Charlie, exasperated.
“Just about, my friend. Fucked her three times last night, wearing all kinds of stuff: my briefs, some boxers I found, nothing at all!” The grin on his face bespoke a sexually satisfied 19-year-old who anticipated more sex in the near future. “Wanna hear about it? Oh wait… what’s going on here? What’s with the condoms?”
“Nuthin,” said Kirk. “We’re all glad to hear you got laid, but to be blunt, can you piss off? We’re talking about some serious shit here.”
“Oh? What’s that?” asked Chris.
Skye looked pleadingly at Kirk, who already knew enough not to spill the beans.
He assumed a false air of friendship with Chris. “I’ll tell you all about it another time, man. Now, do ya mind?”
Chris took the cue and turned to leave. “Well, okay,” he called, “but I’m gonna tell you about it next time. Bye!”
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch.70b
He shut the door and all three guys let out a sigh of relief. “What an asshole,” said Kirk. Skye said nothing but looked down to see that his cock had become flaccid once more, thanks to Chris’s interruption.
“He’s not really,” countered Charlie. “He’s just excited cuz he’s no longer a virgin, although until a few weeks ago, I don’t think you could call someone who flogged his log 8 or 10 times a day a “virgin.” Maybe we need a new term!” He turned back to Skye, who said, “Ok… maybe you’re right. What do I have to do?”
Kirk offered a kindly smile. “Well, do you want me to show you how to use it by putting it on myself or on you?”
Yipes thought Skye. This is so fuckin weird… or maybe it’s not so weird. I always heard that college guys were nuts.
“I’m gonna go with…” here, in an attempt to lighten the load, he assumed the air of a game show contestant trying to decide between two fabulous prizes. “I guess I’ll go with….. you do it on yourself. But for fuck’s sake, lock the door so Bozo the Sex God doesn’t return.”
Charlie got up and locked the door. Unceremoniously, Kirk stripped off his shirt and jeans and threw them on the bed while standing in his boxer briefs. “Ok,” he said, “watch this.” He pulled off his boxer briefs and let his cock and balls hang just a couple of feet from Skye. Of course, Skye had seen his mentor’s cock and balls a score of times at least since starting college, so that part was more or less natural. Still, it felt different in the intimacy of a dorm room and with a sexual “aid ”mere inches from him.
“Now,” said Kirk matter-of-factly, “you know these are usually for hard-ons, but I’m gonna put it on soft to show you.” He put one of the wrappers in his teeth and ripped it up. He pulled out the condom and unrolled it a little. He then pulled the loose opening unto his not inconsiderable cock and let the rest dangled off the head of his penis.
“I gotta admit,” said Charlie, “This is like a fuckin’ sit com. Look at how silly that looks.”
“Yeah, I know,” grinned Kirk, “but I wanted Skye to see it on a flaccid dick. If you do this, Skye, and you find yourself jizzing without any control, this’ll keep you from showing a huge cum shot on your pants.You can get used to it. Here’s another one. Try it on. Unless you wanna just use the one I already opened to save the others for later.”
Reluctantly, Sky reached out and took an unopened package. Though he was close to his friend and mentor, he didn’t think he could bring himself to put on his opened condom, even though it was virtually unused.
He took the package and tossed it on his bed. Then, like his mentor, he put his fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs and pushed them down, allowing his cock and balls freedom from their confines. Again, both of the other boys stared in admiration at the size and beauty of Skye’s cock and ballsac.
He picked up the wrapped condom and ripped it open. He unrolled part of the condom as he’d seen Kirk do and then, in a moment that felt like some invasive doctor’s procedure, he pulled a couple of inches up his dangling cock, where it hung just like Kirk’s. Again, Charlie was struck by the comic qualities of two dudes in a dorm with dangling condoms, but he also knew this was a serious moment for Skye—not only for the practical reason that he could contain his jizzing class but also because this was the very situation his quotation had mentioned with the added reciprocal dimension: Skye had an older guy whom he admired, and in return, that older man was taking an interest in Skye.
The two condom-clad students stood for a few moments, the ridiculous wrinkled condoms providing a tug-of-war between the seriousness of controlling his orgasms and the ridiculousness of the silly rubbery additions to their glans.
“So,… er,” said Charlie. “I guess that’s settled. Skye will wear the condom tomorrow and then, I guess, let us know how it worked out. That okay with you, buddy?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” said Skye quietly. The maelstrom of emotions he was experiencing included appreciation, fear, anxiety, relief, excitement, and dread. “I guess that’s that.”
Kirk pulled off his condom with a comic snap! He grinned. “You want me to just toss this in the trash can here?” he asked. Charlie said, “Nah, can you drop it in the bathroom trash? Knowing Mr. Intruder-Alert from across the hall, next time he comes in here to boast about his sex life, which will probably be the minute you leave, I’m sure his radar will detect it in the trash and then we’ll have to explain. Better if you take it and chuck it somewhere else.”
“No problem,” said Kirk. He pulled on his clothes and turned to go. “Okay, then, you’ll let me know Listen, buddy, you can do this. Of course, you’ll still need to wear two pairs of underwear and jeans just in case something goes wrong, but at least now we have a strategy. Cheer up, man. It could be worse. I mean, at least you’re gettin’ to jizz regularly!” He grinned and opened the door.
“Hang on,” said Charlie. “There was one other thing.”
Kirk paused, and Skye was just puzzled. Kirk looked at Charlie, who made a fist and shook his wrist back and forth.
“Oh, duh!” Said Kirk. “I’m a dummy. The other strategy we gotta us, Skye, is that you have to jack off tonight just before you go to sleep. Maybe that’ll help keep your cock in its proper place. Can do?”
Can do? thought Skye. Can any guy my age NOT beat off on command? Aloud he answered, “Yeah, I guess. It just seems weird, though, for Charlie here to know about it.”
Charlie piped up. “Skye, think for a second. You know perfectly well that I’m always aware when you’re beating off. And unless I’m wrong, you know when I’m doing it too. There’s nothing weird about this. You know how many guys in this dorm and the campus beat off in the dark, while their roommates do the same? It’s a common as cereal for breakfast, man. We’ll just turn off the lights and you can go at it.. and if I do too, where’s the harm? Remember, we’re doing this for you.”
Skye was a little embarrassed at his timidity, especially because he had indeed known that Charlie was masturbating at certain times. And, of course, the prevailing culture of the dorm and team was that anything—ANYTHING—having to do with cocks and balls and sexual release was considered an open topic, to be examined “without prejudice,” as the pre-law student in the hall had once said during the morning bathroom ritual.
“All right, dudes,” said Kirk, “I’m outta here. Skye, you know what to do. And come find me at lunch and we’ll see how it went. Just remember: we’re looking out for ya, buddy.” He smiled the magic smile, opened the door, and left.
Charlie turned to Skye and said, “You okay, buddy? I know that was a lot.”
Skye felt suddenly tired. “Yeah, I’m ok, thanks. It is just too fuckin weird that this is happening.”
“Remember, though,” countered Charlie, “Kirk said his problems disappeared after a couple of weeks. If you can stick it out… well, not literally…” He laughed at that point—“I mean, if you can be patient, this will be behind you before too long. You can do it, man.”
Skye just smiled, went over to his desk, and pulled out a couple of books to do his homework. He felt drained but also buoyed up by the concern of the other guys. He pulled his Spanish book towards him.
He shut the door and all three guys let out a sigh of relief. “What an asshole,” said Kirk. Skye said nothing but looked down to see that his cock had become flaccid once more, thanks to Chris’s interruption.
“He’s not really,” countered Charlie. “He’s just excited cuz he’s no longer a virgin, although until a few weeks ago, I don’t think you could call someone who flogged his log 8 or 10 times a day a “virgin.” Maybe we need a new term!” He turned back to Skye, who said, “Ok… maybe you’re right. What do I have to do?”
Kirk offered a kindly smile. “Well, do you want me to show you how to use it by putting it on myself or on you?”
Yipes thought Skye. This is so fuckin weird… or maybe it’s not so weird. I always heard that college guys were nuts.
“I’m gonna go with…” here, in an attempt to lighten the load, he assumed the air of a game show contestant trying to decide between two fabulous prizes. “I guess I’ll go with….. you do it on yourself. But for fuck’s sake, lock the door so Bozo the Sex God doesn’t return.”
Charlie got up and locked the door. Unceremoniously, Kirk stripped off his shirt and jeans and threw them on the bed while standing in his boxer briefs. “Ok,” he said, “watch this.” He pulled off his boxer briefs and let his cock and balls hang just a couple of feet from Skye. Of course, Skye had seen his mentor’s cock and balls a score of times at least since starting college, so that part was more or less natural. Still, it felt different in the intimacy of a dorm room and with a sexual “aid ”mere inches from him.
“Now,” said Kirk matter-of-factly, “you know these are usually for hard-ons, but I’m gonna put it on soft to show you.” He put one of the wrappers in his teeth and ripped it up. He pulled out the condom and unrolled it a little. He then pulled the loose opening unto his not inconsiderable cock and let the rest dangled off the head of his penis.
“I gotta admit,” said Charlie, “This is like a fuckin’ sit com. Look at how silly that looks.”
“Yeah, I know,” grinned Kirk, “but I wanted Skye to see it on a flaccid dick. If you do this, Skye, and you find yourself jizzing without any control, this’ll keep you from showing a huge cum shot on your pants.You can get used to it. Here’s another one. Try it on. Unless you wanna just use the one I already opened to save the others for later.”
Reluctantly, Sky reached out and took an unopened package. Though he was close to his friend and mentor, he didn’t think he could bring himself to put on his opened condom, even though it was virtually unused.
He took the package and tossed it on his bed. Then, like his mentor, he put his fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs and pushed them down, allowing his cock and balls freedom from their confines. Again, both of the other boys stared in admiration at the size and beauty of Skye’s cock and ballsac.
He picked up the wrapped condom and ripped it open. He unrolled part of the condom as he’d seen Kirk do and then, in a moment that felt like some invasive doctor’s procedure, he pulled a couple of inches up his dangling cock, where it hung just like Kirk’s. Again, Charlie was struck by the comic qualities of two dudes in a dorm with dangling condoms, but he also knew this was a serious moment for Skye—not only for the practical reason that he could contain his jizzing class but also because this was the very situation his quotation had mentioned with the added reciprocal dimension: Skye had an older guy whom he admired, and in return, that older man was taking an interest in Skye.
The two condom-clad students stood for a few moments, the ridiculous wrinkled condoms providing a tug-of-war between the seriousness of controlling his orgasms and the ridiculousness of the silly rubbery additions to their glans.
“So,… er,” said Charlie. “I guess that’s settled. Skye will wear the condom tomorrow and then, I guess, let us know how it worked out. That okay with you, buddy?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” said Skye quietly. The maelstrom of emotions he was experiencing included appreciation, fear, anxiety, relief, excitement, and dread. “I guess that’s that.”
Kirk pulled off his condom with a comic snap! He grinned. “You want me to just toss this in the trash can here?” he asked. Charlie said, “Nah, can you drop it in the bathroom trash? Knowing Mr. Intruder-Alert from across the hall, next time he comes in here to boast about his sex life, which will probably be the minute you leave, I’m sure his radar will detect it in the trash and then we’ll have to explain. Better if you take it and chuck it somewhere else.”
“No problem,” said Kirk. He pulled on his clothes and turned to go. “Okay, then, you’ll let me know Listen, buddy, you can do this. Of course, you’ll still need to wear two pairs of underwear and jeans just in case something goes wrong, but at least now we have a strategy. Cheer up, man. It could be worse. I mean, at least you’re gettin’ to jizz regularly!” He grinned and opened the door.
“Hang on,” said Charlie. “There was one other thing.”
Kirk paused, and Skye was just puzzled. Kirk looked at Charlie, who made a fist and shook his wrist back and forth.
“Oh, duh!” Said Kirk. “I’m a dummy. The other strategy we gotta us, Skye, is that you have to jack off tonight just before you go to sleep. Maybe that’ll help keep your cock in its proper place. Can do?”
Can do? thought Skye. Can any guy my age NOT beat off on command? Aloud he answered, “Yeah, I guess. It just seems weird, though, for Charlie here to know about it.”
Charlie piped up. “Skye, think for a second. You know perfectly well that I’m always aware when you’re beating off. And unless I’m wrong, you know when I’m doing it too. There’s nothing weird about this. You know how many guys in this dorm and the campus beat off in the dark, while their roommates do the same? It’s a common as cereal for breakfast, man. We’ll just turn off the lights and you can go at it.. and if I do too, where’s the harm? Remember, we’re doing this for you.”
Skye was a little embarrassed at his timidity, especially because he had indeed known that Charlie was masturbating at certain times. And, of course, the prevailing culture of the dorm and team was that anything—ANYTHING—having to do with cocks and balls and sexual release was considered an open topic, to be examined “without prejudice,” as the pre-law student in the hall had once said during the morning bathroom ritual.
“All right, dudes,” said Kirk, “I’m outta here. Skye, you know what to do. And come find me at lunch and we’ll see how it went. Just remember: we’re looking out for ya, buddy.” He smiled the magic smile, opened the door, and left.
Charlie turned to Skye and said, “You okay, buddy? I know that was a lot.”
Skye felt suddenly tired. “Yeah, I’m ok, thanks. It is just too fuckin weird that this is happening.”
“Remember, though,” countered Charlie, “Kirk said his problems disappeared after a couple of weeks. If you can stick it out… well, not literally…” He laughed at that point—“I mean, if you can be patient, this will be behind you before too long. You can do it, man.”
Skye just smiled, went over to his desk, and pulled out a couple of books to do his homework. He felt drained but also buoyed up by the concern of the other guys. He pulled his Spanish book towards him.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Chapter 71 Before bed.
At about 11:00 that night Charlie was lying naked on his bed, finishing up his psychology reading. Skye, in his boxer briefs for the evening, had reviewed the Spanish vocabulary and sentence structures, with only occasional visions of class the next day and what Maria might do. When he followed these imagined scenarios, his cock would start to stiffen. Somehow—in that mysterious way he had—Charlie knew about this even when his eyes were on his book and he called out, “Take it easy there, Stallion. Save it for bed time.”
Skye gave an easy smile and resumed his work. Twenty minutes later, both he and Charlie headed to the bathroom. Upon their return, Charlie turned off the lights and both boys got into bed. There was a silence in the room which Charlie was determined not to break. He could sense Skye thinking about how to start, but again, the older boy said nothing.
Skye for his part, found it odd that there were any issues at all about beating off before sleep. He’d been doing that since before his first orgasm. His old fantasies didn’t seem to work, and in fact, most of the times he masturbated, he didn’t really have any particularly specific scenarios in mind, concentrating instead on the mere physical sensations
After about ten minutes, he decided to take the risk of allowing Maria some space in his brain. Though a little concerned that if he thought about her too much at the vulnerable stage of near sleep, she might appear in his dreams and arouse his cock, he nonetheless felt that this was the most efficient way to cum, so he started thinking about her body, her breasts, her laugh, her ass. His penis responded as expected, and Skye settled in for a stroking session—not too long, he thought, but there was no need to rush. He wrapped his right hand around his thick cock, cupped his low-hangers with his left, and stroked and pulled and focused on the sensations. Of course, within a few moments, he had completely forgotten that his roommate might be doing the same thing; the utter dominance of his cock and balls excluded all other thoughts.
About fifteen minutes later, he reached the point of no return and he aimed his cock at his pecs, and it fired out salvos of cum. Skye clenched his ab muscles and intensified the whole orgasm. After coming down from the heights, he realized he still had Charlie’s jizz sock under his pillow, so he just shrugged, grabbed it, and wiped himself off. The familiar feeling of post-orgasm drowsiness overcame him and he drifted off to sleep mere moments after hearing a telltale grunt from his roommate.
Skye slept through the night in a dreamless void. Of course, he wasn’t aware it was dreamless, for when he was in it, he was oblivious . His next conscious thought was that he was awake and it was early. He was grateful when, the next moment, he realized he hadn’t had to contend with a spurting cock all night, but the moment after that, he realized he had a dilemma, for his penis was rigid and quivering, the head well past his navel, and it demanded attention, as usual.
Oh, fuck, he thought. We didn’t discuss this. C’mon, Skye. Figure it out.
Of course, there wasn’t really an option, as he realized almost immediately. He had time, and another emptying of his cum tanks could only help the situation. He glanced over at Charlie’s bed, but the arrangement of the room meant it was hard to see over the desk. He listened to his roommate’s breathing and then reached under his covers to greet his eager, throbbing penis. His ballsac had tightened a little and he felt the consistent pleasure he always felt when he cupped it. He worked on his cock and balls, eyes shut, for about ten minutes and then felt the wave approaching. He bucked his hips a little as he had that day in the library, and that forced him into unloading several shots of sperm on his stomach again. After letting himself down gently, he reached for the cum sock, and realized it was still kind of moist from the previous load, but he couldn’t do anything about that, and cleaned up as best he could. He figured he wasn’t tired, and so he got up, pulled a towel around his naked body, checked his abs for revealing cum stains and wiped away a couple of spurts with his hand, and headed for the showers, feeling like he had a good strategy for the inevitable moment of seeing Maria.
At about 11:00 that night Charlie was lying naked on his bed, finishing up his psychology reading. Skye, in his boxer briefs for the evening, had reviewed the Spanish vocabulary and sentence structures, with only occasional visions of class the next day and what Maria might do. When he followed these imagined scenarios, his cock would start to stiffen. Somehow—in that mysterious way he had—Charlie knew about this even when his eyes were on his book and he called out, “Take it easy there, Stallion. Save it for bed time.”
Skye gave an easy smile and resumed his work. Twenty minutes later, both he and Charlie headed to the bathroom. Upon their return, Charlie turned off the lights and both boys got into bed. There was a silence in the room which Charlie was determined not to break. He could sense Skye thinking about how to start, but again, the older boy said nothing.
Skye for his part, found it odd that there were any issues at all about beating off before sleep. He’d been doing that since before his first orgasm. His old fantasies didn’t seem to work, and in fact, most of the times he masturbated, he didn’t really have any particularly specific scenarios in mind, concentrating instead on the mere physical sensations
After about ten minutes, he decided to take the risk of allowing Maria some space in his brain. Though a little concerned that if he thought about her too much at the vulnerable stage of near sleep, she might appear in his dreams and arouse his cock, he nonetheless felt that this was the most efficient way to cum, so he started thinking about her body, her breasts, her laugh, her ass. His penis responded as expected, and Skye settled in for a stroking session—not too long, he thought, but there was no need to rush. He wrapped his right hand around his thick cock, cupped his low-hangers with his left, and stroked and pulled and focused on the sensations. Of course, within a few moments, he had completely forgotten that his roommate might be doing the same thing; the utter dominance of his cock and balls excluded all other thoughts.
About fifteen minutes later, he reached the point of no return and he aimed his cock at his pecs, and it fired out salvos of cum. Skye clenched his ab muscles and intensified the whole orgasm. After coming down from the heights, he realized he still had Charlie’s jizz sock under his pillow, so he just shrugged, grabbed it, and wiped himself off. The familiar feeling of post-orgasm drowsiness overcame him and he drifted off to sleep mere moments after hearing a telltale grunt from his roommate.
Skye slept through the night in a dreamless void. Of course, he wasn’t aware it was dreamless, for when he was in it, he was oblivious . His next conscious thought was that he was awake and it was early. He was grateful when, the next moment, he realized he hadn’t had to contend with a spurting cock all night, but the moment after that, he realized he had a dilemma, for his penis was rigid and quivering, the head well past his navel, and it demanded attention, as usual.
Oh, fuck, he thought. We didn’t discuss this. C’mon, Skye. Figure it out.
Of course, there wasn’t really an option, as he realized almost immediately. He had time, and another emptying of his cum tanks could only help the situation. He glanced over at Charlie’s bed, but the arrangement of the room meant it was hard to see over the desk. He listened to his roommate’s breathing and then reached under his covers to greet his eager, throbbing penis. His ballsac had tightened a little and he felt the consistent pleasure he always felt when he cupped it. He worked on his cock and balls, eyes shut, for about ten minutes and then felt the wave approaching. He bucked his hips a little as he had that day in the library, and that forced him into unloading several shots of sperm on his stomach again. After letting himself down gently, he reached for the cum sock, and realized it was still kind of moist from the previous load, but he couldn’t do anything about that, and cleaned up as best he could. He figured he wasn’t tired, and so he got up, pulled a towel around his naked body, checked his abs for revealing cum stains and wiped away a couple of spurts with his hand, and headed for the showers, feeling like he had a good strategy for the inevitable moment of seeing Maria.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 72: Preparation
Oddly, the bathroom was rather sparsely populated that morning, for reasons he couldn’t fathom. Still, 5 or 6 guys were there with the usual array of erections, semi’s, and flaccid cocks, all present in the atmosphere of natural, naked college athletes.
Skye showered quickly, used Randy’s “squeegee” method as was now his custom, dried himself off, and wrapped his towel around his waist. He had considered just remaining naked while he brushed his teeth, but he found himself in the shower thinking about putting on the condom, and despite the awkwardness of that upcoming procedure, he found his cock responding to the scenario by beginning to thicken. Unbelievable, thought Skye. I mean, I just beat off like ten minutes ago. I hope this isn’t a sign of things to come. He was unaware of the word play.
He brushed his teeth and returned to his room. In a way, despite the continued openness of all the guys he knew, he was a little relieved that Charlie had remained behind in the bathroom. It gave him time to put on the condom. He re-dried himself and stood for a moment naked, his generous cock and balls swaying. “Now or never,” he said aloud through gritted teeth. He reached over to his desk and grabbed the unopened condom package, which was located next to the dried-out “practice” condom he had used last night. “Weird,” he said and then applied his teeth to the package, which he opened easily. He took out the condom, leaving it in its unrolled state, unlike the night before. “OK, dude,” he said to his penis, “this is it.” Barely consciously, he could imagine Charlie making some joke about the situation, like putting a hat on his dick because it was chilly.
With expert timing, Charlie entered the room at that moment and startled Skye. Of course, Charlie was the picture of grace under pressure, looked at Skye’s penis, and merely remarked, “Always good to be prepared. I think this’ll work, dude.” He then busied himself with his affairs, including the disliked but unavoidable routine of actually putting on clothes (commando, of course) for his classes that morning.
Skye let out a tacit sigh; he had hoped to do this alone. Still, he realized that Charlie was the model of discretion and it was almost like having no one in the room. Skye placed the rolled condom on the tip of his penis and then unrolled it a couple of inches. Only then did he realize he’d have to adjust the tip enough to allow space in it for his cum load, if his preventive methods failed. He unrolled it a little further then tugged it down so part of the condom hung shriveled, providing space for potential sperm loads. He then understood that he should just unroll the whole thing; that would be easiest if he had to shoot later. He had a look of puzzlement and slight dismay on his face; the visual aspect of the scene was quite ridiculous, but he knew he had to stick with the plan, so he reached down and unrolled the rest of the condom, feeling increasingly silly. How, he wondered for a moment, could something like this ever be considered erotic? He then reached over and pulled on the white briefs he had won from Chris, carefully settling his covered penis in the stretchy pouch. He followed that by pulling on his blue boxer briefs. After a little readjusting, he was surprised to realize how invincible he felt: a condom and two pairs of underwear provided him with what felt like a suit of armor. He grabbed his shirt, socks, and shoes and finished dressing. He tossed his Spanish and history books along with a couple of notebooks and a sweatshirt into his backpack and then checked to see if he’d forgotten anything.
At this point, Charlie, who had finished pulling on his clothes, looked at him and said, “You ready for your big adventure, studly?” He gave an encouraging grin.
Skye matched it with a modest smile. “Yep. I guess so. As Kirk said, at least we have a strategy.”
“Ok, then. You wanna have breakfast together?”
“Yeah, man. That’d be nice.”
“Lead the way, Condom Man,” laughed Charlie as he held the door open. Skye smacked him on the arm in response and the two headed for the dining hall.
Oddly, the bathroom was rather sparsely populated that morning, for reasons he couldn’t fathom. Still, 5 or 6 guys were there with the usual array of erections, semi’s, and flaccid cocks, all present in the atmosphere of natural, naked college athletes.
Skye showered quickly, used Randy’s “squeegee” method as was now his custom, dried himself off, and wrapped his towel around his waist. He had considered just remaining naked while he brushed his teeth, but he found himself in the shower thinking about putting on the condom, and despite the awkwardness of that upcoming procedure, he found his cock responding to the scenario by beginning to thicken. Unbelievable, thought Skye. I mean, I just beat off like ten minutes ago. I hope this isn’t a sign of things to come. He was unaware of the word play.
He brushed his teeth and returned to his room. In a way, despite the continued openness of all the guys he knew, he was a little relieved that Charlie had remained behind in the bathroom. It gave him time to put on the condom. He re-dried himself and stood for a moment naked, his generous cock and balls swaying. “Now or never,” he said aloud through gritted teeth. He reached over to his desk and grabbed the unopened condom package, which was located next to the dried-out “practice” condom he had used last night. “Weird,” he said and then applied his teeth to the package, which he opened easily. He took out the condom, leaving it in its unrolled state, unlike the night before. “OK, dude,” he said to his penis, “this is it.” Barely consciously, he could imagine Charlie making some joke about the situation, like putting a hat on his dick because it was chilly.
With expert timing, Charlie entered the room at that moment and startled Skye. Of course, Charlie was the picture of grace under pressure, looked at Skye’s penis, and merely remarked, “Always good to be prepared. I think this’ll work, dude.” He then busied himself with his affairs, including the disliked but unavoidable routine of actually putting on clothes (commando, of course) for his classes that morning.
Skye let out a tacit sigh; he had hoped to do this alone. Still, he realized that Charlie was the model of discretion and it was almost like having no one in the room. Skye placed the rolled condom on the tip of his penis and then unrolled it a couple of inches. Only then did he realize he’d have to adjust the tip enough to allow space in it for his cum load, if his preventive methods failed. He unrolled it a little further then tugged it down so part of the condom hung shriveled, providing space for potential sperm loads. He then understood that he should just unroll the whole thing; that would be easiest if he had to shoot later. He had a look of puzzlement and slight dismay on his face; the visual aspect of the scene was quite ridiculous, but he knew he had to stick with the plan, so he reached down and unrolled the rest of the condom, feeling increasingly silly. How, he wondered for a moment, could something like this ever be considered erotic? He then reached over and pulled on the white briefs he had won from Chris, carefully settling his covered penis in the stretchy pouch. He followed that by pulling on his blue boxer briefs. After a little readjusting, he was surprised to realize how invincible he felt: a condom and two pairs of underwear provided him with what felt like a suit of armor. He grabbed his shirt, socks, and shoes and finished dressing. He tossed his Spanish and history books along with a couple of notebooks and a sweatshirt into his backpack and then checked to see if he’d forgotten anything.
At this point, Charlie, who had finished pulling on his clothes, looked at him and said, “You ready for your big adventure, studly?” He gave an encouraging grin.
Skye matched it with a modest smile. “Yep. I guess so. As Kirk said, at least we have a strategy.”
“Ok, then. You wanna have breakfast together?”
“Yeah, man. That’d be nice.”
“Lead the way, Condom Man,” laughed Charlie as he held the door open. Skye smacked him on the arm in response and the two headed for the dining hall.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 73: Strategy in Action.
Breakfast was a simple and brief affair, and a few minutes before 9:00, Skye rose and said, “Wish me luck.” In a surprisingly indiscreet moment, Charlie leaned over to Skye’s zipper and, in a mock-serious tone, addressed it with a laconic: “Good luck.” He straightened up and saw a couple of guys looking quizically at him, but he gave them nothing to work with, and after a moment it became clear to them that this was some kind of inside dick-centered joke between the two roommates.
“Thanks,” said Skye. He shouldered his back pack and headed off to Spanish.
He was one of the earlier students to arrive, and settled himself into his customary seat and awaited the “test run”—hoping that this would all work, or, even better, that none of the preparations would be necessary. He found himself thinking of wrestlers he had heard at meets talking about packing for contingencies: extra head gear or singlets, in case the unforeseen occurred. They all said, not surprisingly, that it’s better to have the extra gear and not need it than need it and not have it. He hoped against hope that his sexual equipment would simply behave and not start giving him trouble.
However, trouble of a different kind was on the way. At 8:55, the professor arrived, her usually cheery, energetic self. She greeted the class, which returned her greeting, and she set out various activities. She was so captivating that for the first few minutes, Skye didn’t notice anything but her. However, when the small groups formed, he suddenly realized that the key element in his plan had gone awry: Maria wasn’t there. Where can she be? he thought. She doesn’t seem like the kind to be late. He began to imagine scenarios of a serious nature—ones that might keep her from class. This was his primary focus, though on the edges of consciousness, he realized that her absence meant he couldn’t test the strategy, and he felt both disappointed and relieved.
However, he didn’t concentrate very well for the next while. He fumbled on his part of the practice dialogue and made careless errors when practicing verb conjugations. His whole anticipated plan had gone off track.
` With only 10 minutes left in the period, another change: Maria showed up, not exactly disheveled, but certainly less meticulously dressed and coiffed than usual. With an air of confidence that Skye admired, she walked up quietly to the teacher and had a quick conversation with her, too low for Skye to hear. Obviously, something had gone wrong and she was explaining herself to the professor with the dignified air of someone who understands that circumstances can interfere and that it wasn’t her fault. The professor seemed to grasp this, and she guided Maria to the one open chair: in Skye’s group.
He tried to look away but was incapable, and he decided in a flash that it would be rude not to acknowledge her, so, he pushed against his self-imposed shyness and forced himself to look at her and flash his best Kirk-like smile, offering a “Buenos dias, Maria.” She looked at him with her piercing eyes, offered a luminous smile in return and answered, “Buenos dias, Skye.”
Strategy engaged! The smile, the voice, the use of his name… his penis engorged in record time and started to spurt. With his usual struggle, he had to look down and tried to cover the situation by pretending to look for something in the dialogue worksheet while his balls merrily unloaded through the shaft of his penis and… into the condom! Even as he attempted to cover up his physical response, he also felt a sense of triumph; he had outfoxed his dick! He held his breath unknowingly, and then slowly exhaled. Fortunately for him, another girl in the group had engaged Maria by telling her where they were in the script.
Skye felt that he could now handle the situation and he surprised himself with how suave he had become in the exercise… or at least he thought he seemed suave. Later in the day, he found himself wondering about it.
Class ended shortly, and Skye was at a loss as to how to proceed. He needed to get to the bathroom to ditch the condom, but he didn’t want to seem to rush off and offend Maria. Again, the other girl came to his rescue and guided Maria away by her elbow, chattering as she went.
Skye let out another sigh and focused on seeing if by contracting his sphincter muscles, he could squeeze the last drops of cum out of his cock and into the condom. Only then did it occur to him that he might have to walk funny, what with a half-filled condom on his now flaccid penis, but he thought he could get away with it, and so he rose up and strategically swung his backpack so it covered most of his crotch. By the time he had to move it away lest it become obvious, he was out the door and headed to the bathroom.
Breakfast was a simple and brief affair, and a few minutes before 9:00, Skye rose and said, “Wish me luck.” In a surprisingly indiscreet moment, Charlie leaned over to Skye’s zipper and, in a mock-serious tone, addressed it with a laconic: “Good luck.” He straightened up and saw a couple of guys looking quizically at him, but he gave them nothing to work with, and after a moment it became clear to them that this was some kind of inside dick-centered joke between the two roommates.
“Thanks,” said Skye. He shouldered his back pack and headed off to Spanish.
He was one of the earlier students to arrive, and settled himself into his customary seat and awaited the “test run”—hoping that this would all work, or, even better, that none of the preparations would be necessary. He found himself thinking of wrestlers he had heard at meets talking about packing for contingencies: extra head gear or singlets, in case the unforeseen occurred. They all said, not surprisingly, that it’s better to have the extra gear and not need it than need it and not have it. He hoped against hope that his sexual equipment would simply behave and not start giving him trouble.
However, trouble of a different kind was on the way. At 8:55, the professor arrived, her usually cheery, energetic self. She greeted the class, which returned her greeting, and she set out various activities. She was so captivating that for the first few minutes, Skye didn’t notice anything but her. However, when the small groups formed, he suddenly realized that the key element in his plan had gone awry: Maria wasn’t there. Where can she be? he thought. She doesn’t seem like the kind to be late. He began to imagine scenarios of a serious nature—ones that might keep her from class. This was his primary focus, though on the edges of consciousness, he realized that her absence meant he couldn’t test the strategy, and he felt both disappointed and relieved.
However, he didn’t concentrate very well for the next while. He fumbled on his part of the practice dialogue and made careless errors when practicing verb conjugations. His whole anticipated plan had gone off track.
` With only 10 minutes left in the period, another change: Maria showed up, not exactly disheveled, but certainly less meticulously dressed and coiffed than usual. With an air of confidence that Skye admired, she walked up quietly to the teacher and had a quick conversation with her, too low for Skye to hear. Obviously, something had gone wrong and she was explaining herself to the professor with the dignified air of someone who understands that circumstances can interfere and that it wasn’t her fault. The professor seemed to grasp this, and she guided Maria to the one open chair: in Skye’s group.
He tried to look away but was incapable, and he decided in a flash that it would be rude not to acknowledge her, so, he pushed against his self-imposed shyness and forced himself to look at her and flash his best Kirk-like smile, offering a “Buenos dias, Maria.” She looked at him with her piercing eyes, offered a luminous smile in return and answered, “Buenos dias, Skye.”
Strategy engaged! The smile, the voice, the use of his name… his penis engorged in record time and started to spurt. With his usual struggle, he had to look down and tried to cover the situation by pretending to look for something in the dialogue worksheet while his balls merrily unloaded through the shaft of his penis and… into the condom! Even as he attempted to cover up his physical response, he also felt a sense of triumph; he had outfoxed his dick! He held his breath unknowingly, and then slowly exhaled. Fortunately for him, another girl in the group had engaged Maria by telling her where they were in the script.
Skye felt that he could now handle the situation and he surprised himself with how suave he had become in the exercise… or at least he thought he seemed suave. Later in the day, he found himself wondering about it.
Class ended shortly, and Skye was at a loss as to how to proceed. He needed to get to the bathroom to ditch the condom, but he didn’t want to seem to rush off and offend Maria. Again, the other girl came to his rescue and guided Maria away by her elbow, chattering as she went.
Skye let out another sigh and focused on seeing if by contracting his sphincter muscles, he could squeeze the last drops of cum out of his cock and into the condom. Only then did it occur to him that he might have to walk funny, what with a half-filled condom on his now flaccid penis, but he thought he could get away with it, and so he rose up and strategically swung his backpack so it covered most of his crotch. By the time he had to move it away lest it become obvious, he was out the door and headed to the bathroom.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 74: Aftermath
He walked into the bathroom with the idea of going into a stall, removing the condom, wiping his no doubt still dripping penis head, and then using the double layer of underwear to disguise the situation. He even felt he wouldn’t need to go back to his dorm room to change; a little jizz on his briefs would be manageable. He even had the slightly impish thought of purposely trying to avoid Kirk and Charlie just to keep them in a state of suspense as a kind of mild prank.
However, both stalls were taken; Skye could see the run-down sneakers most college guys wore. Not wanting to have the condom on any longer than necessary, he decided he could just get it off at the urinal. He stood in front of the porcelain, undid his button-fly and, with a quick preliminary look around, pulled out his rubber-covered cock. His lack of experience shone in that moment: having never used a condom, he didn’t know how to take it off very easily. He started to yank on it but then realized it would probably drip, if not spray, cum everywhere. He paused, considering his next move, when the door slammed open and a guy about 20 rushed in and headed to the stalls.
“Crap,” the guy said, then he noticed Skye, who was frantically trying to cover up his condom removal process. Without a word, the guy stood at the urinal next to Skye and, in an unbelievable moment of intimacy between two complete strangers—intimacy that was apparently established in the mind of this fellow simply by the fact that he and Skye were two male college students—he unbuttoned his waistband and unzipped his fly, pulled down the waistband of whatever underwear he had on, and pulled out a largish but flaccid penis… with a condom on it! And this was not an empty condom. Skye was so taken aback by the decisive rapidity with which the guy opened up his jeans that he couldn’t help looking. His astonishment knew no bounds. What kind of universe did he live in where two guys both had jizz-filled condoms and were standing at adjacent urinals?
He quickly looked up, though he probably should have looked away, and the other student just said, “Fuck. I gotta get rid of this thing. At least it worked.” He then mirrored Skye’s action of a moment before and saw the condom half off of Skye’s penis. “Holy shit!” he whispered. “You too?”
Skye was speechless. In a moment of horrible comedy, he simply nodded up and down like a bad actor in a sitcom. He locked eyes with the other guy, who whispered, “A girl in your class?”
Skye nodded.
“Wow. Sucks, doesn’t it?” He leaned in a little conspiratorially and whispered even more quietly, lest the stall occupants hear. “Did you jizz just by being around her? I did. Never happened before. I had to sneak across campus last time and then I figured out this genius idea.”
Curiously, Skye felt a complete unnecessary need to defend the “originality” of Kirk’s strategy: “Well,” he whispered in return, “we’re not the first, man. A guy I know who went through this was the one that told me about the whole… you know… ‘method.’”
The other guy grinned. “Cool,” he said, “so we’re in this together with guys from the past. I suppose there’s always some dude or other who’s got it bad. Anyway, I gotta get this thing off.” It was clear he had used condoms before for intercourse, for he expertly placed his fingers at the opening, pinched off the material at his cock head, pulled it off, and, with the dexterity of a magician, knotted the opening so rapidly that Skye couldn’t see how he did it.
He noticed Skye staring and then he noticed the half-removed condom and whispered, “You new at this? I can help.” Before Skye could even react, the guy reached over and performed the same prestidigitation and in the twinkling of an eye, he had both condoms sealed tight. He gave a silent laugh, readjusted his penis in his underwear, rezipped and fastened his jeans, turned around, tossed the condoms in the large built-in trash bin, and washed his hands. Skye realized that, like an idiot, he was still standing there with his “dong in his hands,” as some of his Rez friends used to say. He immediately followed the same routine, but the guy was gone by the time Skye had finished washing his hands. For one nanosecond, Skye wondered if the guy were even real; he seemed like a character in a Native tale who appeared at a crucial moment. Skye left the bathroom and sat on a bench in the hall for a few minutes before shaking his head in disbelief and rising to go to the library for an hour before history.
Wait till I tell the guys. he thought. They’ll think I’m making it up. Fuck. Who was that dude?”
He walked into the bathroom with the idea of going into a stall, removing the condom, wiping his no doubt still dripping penis head, and then using the double layer of underwear to disguise the situation. He even felt he wouldn’t need to go back to his dorm room to change; a little jizz on his briefs would be manageable. He even had the slightly impish thought of purposely trying to avoid Kirk and Charlie just to keep them in a state of suspense as a kind of mild prank.
However, both stalls were taken; Skye could see the run-down sneakers most college guys wore. Not wanting to have the condom on any longer than necessary, he decided he could just get it off at the urinal. He stood in front of the porcelain, undid his button-fly and, with a quick preliminary look around, pulled out his rubber-covered cock. His lack of experience shone in that moment: having never used a condom, he didn’t know how to take it off very easily. He started to yank on it but then realized it would probably drip, if not spray, cum everywhere. He paused, considering his next move, when the door slammed open and a guy about 20 rushed in and headed to the stalls.
“Crap,” the guy said, then he noticed Skye, who was frantically trying to cover up his condom removal process. Without a word, the guy stood at the urinal next to Skye and, in an unbelievable moment of intimacy between two complete strangers—intimacy that was apparently established in the mind of this fellow simply by the fact that he and Skye were two male college students—he unbuttoned his waistband and unzipped his fly, pulled down the waistband of whatever underwear he had on, and pulled out a largish but flaccid penis… with a condom on it! And this was not an empty condom. Skye was so taken aback by the decisive rapidity with which the guy opened up his jeans that he couldn’t help looking. His astonishment knew no bounds. What kind of universe did he live in where two guys both had jizz-filled condoms and were standing at adjacent urinals?
He quickly looked up, though he probably should have looked away, and the other student just said, “Fuck. I gotta get rid of this thing. At least it worked.” He then mirrored Skye’s action of a moment before and saw the condom half off of Skye’s penis. “Holy shit!” he whispered. “You too?”
Skye was speechless. In a moment of horrible comedy, he simply nodded up and down like a bad actor in a sitcom. He locked eyes with the other guy, who whispered, “A girl in your class?”
Skye nodded.
“Wow. Sucks, doesn’t it?” He leaned in a little conspiratorially and whispered even more quietly, lest the stall occupants hear. “Did you jizz just by being around her? I did. Never happened before. I had to sneak across campus last time and then I figured out this genius idea.”
Curiously, Skye felt a complete unnecessary need to defend the “originality” of Kirk’s strategy: “Well,” he whispered in return, “we’re not the first, man. A guy I know who went through this was the one that told me about the whole… you know… ‘method.’”
The other guy grinned. “Cool,” he said, “so we’re in this together with guys from the past. I suppose there’s always some dude or other who’s got it bad. Anyway, I gotta get this thing off.” It was clear he had used condoms before for intercourse, for he expertly placed his fingers at the opening, pinched off the material at his cock head, pulled it off, and, with the dexterity of a magician, knotted the opening so rapidly that Skye couldn’t see how he did it.
He noticed Skye staring and then he noticed the half-removed condom and whispered, “You new at this? I can help.” Before Skye could even react, the guy reached over and performed the same prestidigitation and in the twinkling of an eye, he had both condoms sealed tight. He gave a silent laugh, readjusted his penis in his underwear, rezipped and fastened his jeans, turned around, tossed the condoms in the large built-in trash bin, and washed his hands. Skye realized that, like an idiot, he was still standing there with his “dong in his hands,” as some of his Rez friends used to say. He immediately followed the same routine, but the guy was gone by the time Skye had finished washing his hands. For one nanosecond, Skye wondered if the guy were even real; he seemed like a character in a Native tale who appeared at a crucial moment. Skye left the bathroom and sat on a bench in the hall for a few minutes before shaking his head in disbelief and rising to go to the library for an hour before history.
Wait till I tell the guys. he thought. They’ll think I’m making it up. Fuck. Who was that dude?”
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch 75: Now what?
Sitting on the bench, Skye found himself returning to the incident in the bathroom. How could the exact same situation had happened to another boy? Yet the proof was incontrovertible. It just seemed like a set-up, and for a few moments, Skye followed the rabbit-hole idea of some nefarious gang that was spying on him and arranging for mind-blowing situations like this to occur, all in order to… do what, exactly?… disrupt his education? Ruin his chances on the wrestling team? Take him down for racist reasons?
That last idea shook him out of his musing. “What a fuckin’ idiot! You honestly think some group of criminals is targeting you? Yeah, right.” He let loose a snort of contempt and tried to retrieve himself for history class. He succeeded in regrouping and heading off to his course, and while in history he managed to concentrate as well as could be expected, still, at the end of the lecture, he sat, unmoving, in his seat, as he replayed for the hundredth time the image of the guy at the urinal next to him pulling off his own condom, tying it, and then reaching over as nonchalantly as you please to pull off Skye’s while the wrestler simply stood there. Skye did not like to think of himself as someone who froze in a crisis, but he felt he had at that point. Not that it was a real crisis; he’d been part of far worse situations. Nonetheless, he resolved to be more active and flexible in the future, given that, apparently, the unexpected was to be expected from now on.
For a moment, he couldn’t decide whether he should seek out his roommate and mentor at lunch, still feeling like it might be a pleasant experience of power for him to delay telling them and hence keep them on the edges of their respective seats. However, given how supportive they’d been, he finally decided it would be unfair not to inform them as soon as may be, so he headed to lunch.
In the dining hall, he grabbed a tray and loaded it with food and hurried into the main hall. Luck was with him; both guys were at a table, looking, to him, as if they were a committee awaiting a report. He hastened over.
“Hey, Skye! C’mon, sit down and tell us,” said Charlie. “How’d it go?”
“Well,” began Skye slowly, even before putting his tray on the table. “I didn’t need it after all. Nothing happened.”
Both guys looked surprised… then skeptical. “Wait a second,” said Kirk. “Are you telling me after all that, your dick behaved itself? I don’t believe you.”
Skye was not a good liar so he grinned. “Nah, you’re right. I’m just messin’ with you. Truth is, she wasn’t there for, like, most of the class. She was late for some reason she explained to the professor, and then, wouldn’t ya know, she came to my table.”
“Here it comes,” smirked Charlie.
“Literally,” said Kirk.
“Fuck you,” said Skye cheerily. “But yeah, turns out our strategy was necessary. She and I said, like, two things in Spanish and my dick just erupted. I had to throw a pencil on the floor to pick it up in order to hide my face while I shot my load.”
“But right into the condom, right?” asked Kirk anxiously.
“Yep,” responded Skye, who couldn’t contain his grin. “Just like we planned. It was still fuckin’ embarrassing, but at least I didn’t jizz all over my pants. I gotta hand it to you.”
“You’re not gonna hand it to me!” exclaimed Charlie. “I don’t want your jizz-filled condom, bro!”
“Ha ha, asshole,” answered Skye. “But even if you wanna make it literal, I couldn’t hand it to you… although now that you mention it, that would have been an awesome prank, you jerkoff!” He punched Charlie in the arm.
“So why couldn’t you hand it to me?” asked Charlie. Skye couldn’t tell if he was serious.
“Because, numb nuts,”interrupted Kirk, “he got rid of it, duh. Right, Skye? I mean, why would you hold on to it?”
“I wouldn’t,” said Skye, “but I didn’t exactly get rid of it.”
“What?”
“Well, I mean I didn’t get rid of it. Another guy did!”
“What the FUCK?!” gaped Kirk. “Another guy??”
“You guys aren’t gonna believe this.” He told them quickly about standing at the urinal and the other student who came in with the exact same situation and who, quick as a rabbit, helped Skye remove and discard his condom.
Both Charlie and Kirk were engrossed by this tale, sitting with elbows on the table, leaning forward. When Skye had finished, Charlie leaned back and said, “Well, I’m fucked. That’s the most unbelievable thing I ever heard. You sure you didn’t dream it?”
“Don’t believe me? Wanna make a bet? Wanna go back to the language building and see if you can find both condoms in the trash? If you do that and you don’t find them, I’ll follow your example and stay naked in the dorm for a month.” Skye was pleased with his smart-alec tone.
“Oh sure. That sounds like a great idea!” smirked Charlie. “No thanks. Still, though… Kirk, have you ever had a coincidence like that?”
Kirk was looking thoughtfully into space, not nearly as reactive as Charlie. The latter’s question knocked him out of his reverie. “Well, it’s maybe not as much a coincidence as you think. I may know why it happened."
“What??” asked both of the other boys simultaneously.
“Yup… well, you remember my telling you, Skye, that I had similar problems when I was a freshman?”
“Yeah, though you said I had it worse.”
“You did… but whatever the level of ‘worseness,’ I wasn’t the only one who had uncontrollable jizz-ruptions as a freshman. Know who else did? David, from the team. He and I had pretty similar experiences. So when I mentioned to him that I knew of a kid on the team who was Mr. Cum Volcano all the time for this one girl, turns out he had already seen you double jocked and figured it out. So he and I… what’s the word, Charlie?.. ya know…. Talked together about the same experiences…”
“You commiserated, dork.”
“Right. We commiserated and that’s when he told me he had a similar problem with his mentoree! It’s just that that kid isn’t on the team, so you don’t know him. Now, I realize that Charlie here is Mr. Sherlock Holmes, but if I could play that for a second, I’d say that the odds are that David told this other guy about our strategy, since his situation was almost the same as yours, and that it really was just chance that you guys were in the same bathroom at the same time.” He continued. “Maybe this isn’t really so bizarre after all.”
Skye was motionless… then he sat back, flabbergasted, in his seat. “So actually, that guy and I do have a kind of connection through Kirk and David. Weird. Fuck, man… it was just so bizarre. You think I’ll ever see that guy again?”
“Why, you wanna compare notes or something?” laughed Kirk.
“No, but… well, actually, it might not be so bad to…. What was it?… commiserate with another dude whose dick runs his life.”
“Um, that’d mean you’d have to commiserate with every fuckin’ guy here, man. You can’t swing a cat in this dining hall without hitting a guy who’s a slave to his dick. I thought we’d established that all of us are run by our horniness. Just the way things are…”
Silence descended for a time, and Skye found himself a little relieved and even managed a laugh out of contemplating the situation. “Man, this makes a good story… but then who the hell do you tell?”
“I dunno, Skye, but I’ll tell you something,” said Kirk. “I’ll make… oh what the fuck do they call that on tv cop shows?… ‘discreet inquiries’?…”
“Bravo,” muttered Charlie under his breath.
“I’ll ask David how things went for his mentoree and see what he tells me. We’ll see if his dude said anything, then I’ll let you know.”
“Yeah, that’d be nice. Thanks, man.”
“No problem, buddy.”
“And anyway,” said Charlie, “like I said to Skye the other day: this really isn’t a big problem. Your strategy worked, you saved yourself from embarrassment in front of Maricela…”
“Maria, asshole!” Skye felt his dick start to twitch.
“Whatever. You found out you’re not alone in this affliction, you’re still a cum stud, which is nice, and you didn’t even have to take care of your very first cum-filled condom. You had a guy do it for you, like some kind of British Lord. Finally, you have everyone’s imprimatur… that’s “approval” for those of you who don’t speak English…for beating off at bedtime and in the morning…”
“Like any of us need approval for that,” murmured Kirk.
“… or at least on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I don’t see the problem here.”
Looked at from that viewpoint, the situation was considerably less dire and indeed, contained some comic elements that Skye was just now realizing.
“Ok, dudes. I’m gonna stuff this food down and do some more studying before practice. I’ll see you then, Kirk.” He rose from the table.
“Ok, man. Way to be a super nerd.
Another piece of bread flew out of Skye’s hand and somehow landed inside Kirk’s t-shirt. Skye laughed.
Sitting on the bench, Skye found himself returning to the incident in the bathroom. How could the exact same situation had happened to another boy? Yet the proof was incontrovertible. It just seemed like a set-up, and for a few moments, Skye followed the rabbit-hole idea of some nefarious gang that was spying on him and arranging for mind-blowing situations like this to occur, all in order to… do what, exactly?… disrupt his education? Ruin his chances on the wrestling team? Take him down for racist reasons?
That last idea shook him out of his musing. “What a fuckin’ idiot! You honestly think some group of criminals is targeting you? Yeah, right.” He let loose a snort of contempt and tried to retrieve himself for history class. He succeeded in regrouping and heading off to his course, and while in history he managed to concentrate as well as could be expected, still, at the end of the lecture, he sat, unmoving, in his seat, as he replayed for the hundredth time the image of the guy at the urinal next to him pulling off his own condom, tying it, and then reaching over as nonchalantly as you please to pull off Skye’s while the wrestler simply stood there. Skye did not like to think of himself as someone who froze in a crisis, but he felt he had at that point. Not that it was a real crisis; he’d been part of far worse situations. Nonetheless, he resolved to be more active and flexible in the future, given that, apparently, the unexpected was to be expected from now on.
For a moment, he couldn’t decide whether he should seek out his roommate and mentor at lunch, still feeling like it might be a pleasant experience of power for him to delay telling them and hence keep them on the edges of their respective seats. However, given how supportive they’d been, he finally decided it would be unfair not to inform them as soon as may be, so he headed to lunch.
In the dining hall, he grabbed a tray and loaded it with food and hurried into the main hall. Luck was with him; both guys were at a table, looking, to him, as if they were a committee awaiting a report. He hastened over.
“Hey, Skye! C’mon, sit down and tell us,” said Charlie. “How’d it go?”
“Well,” began Skye slowly, even before putting his tray on the table. “I didn’t need it after all. Nothing happened.”
Both guys looked surprised… then skeptical. “Wait a second,” said Kirk. “Are you telling me after all that, your dick behaved itself? I don’t believe you.”
Skye was not a good liar so he grinned. “Nah, you’re right. I’m just messin’ with you. Truth is, she wasn’t there for, like, most of the class. She was late for some reason she explained to the professor, and then, wouldn’t ya know, she came to my table.”
“Here it comes,” smirked Charlie.
“Literally,” said Kirk.
“Fuck you,” said Skye cheerily. “But yeah, turns out our strategy was necessary. She and I said, like, two things in Spanish and my dick just erupted. I had to throw a pencil on the floor to pick it up in order to hide my face while I shot my load.”
“But right into the condom, right?” asked Kirk anxiously.
“Yep,” responded Skye, who couldn’t contain his grin. “Just like we planned. It was still fuckin’ embarrassing, but at least I didn’t jizz all over my pants. I gotta hand it to you.”
“You’re not gonna hand it to me!” exclaimed Charlie. “I don’t want your jizz-filled condom, bro!”
“Ha ha, asshole,” answered Skye. “But even if you wanna make it literal, I couldn’t hand it to you… although now that you mention it, that would have been an awesome prank, you jerkoff!” He punched Charlie in the arm.
“So why couldn’t you hand it to me?” asked Charlie. Skye couldn’t tell if he was serious.
“Because, numb nuts,”interrupted Kirk, “he got rid of it, duh. Right, Skye? I mean, why would you hold on to it?”
“I wouldn’t,” said Skye, “but I didn’t exactly get rid of it.”
“What?”
“Well, I mean I didn’t get rid of it. Another guy did!”
“What the FUCK?!” gaped Kirk. “Another guy??”
“You guys aren’t gonna believe this.” He told them quickly about standing at the urinal and the other student who came in with the exact same situation and who, quick as a rabbit, helped Skye remove and discard his condom.
Both Charlie and Kirk were engrossed by this tale, sitting with elbows on the table, leaning forward. When Skye had finished, Charlie leaned back and said, “Well, I’m fucked. That’s the most unbelievable thing I ever heard. You sure you didn’t dream it?”
“Don’t believe me? Wanna make a bet? Wanna go back to the language building and see if you can find both condoms in the trash? If you do that and you don’t find them, I’ll follow your example and stay naked in the dorm for a month.” Skye was pleased with his smart-alec tone.
“Oh sure. That sounds like a great idea!” smirked Charlie. “No thanks. Still, though… Kirk, have you ever had a coincidence like that?”
Kirk was looking thoughtfully into space, not nearly as reactive as Charlie. The latter’s question knocked him out of his reverie. “Well, it’s maybe not as much a coincidence as you think. I may know why it happened."
“What??” asked both of the other boys simultaneously.
“Yup… well, you remember my telling you, Skye, that I had similar problems when I was a freshman?”
“Yeah, though you said I had it worse.”
“You did… but whatever the level of ‘worseness,’ I wasn’t the only one who had uncontrollable jizz-ruptions as a freshman. Know who else did? David, from the team. He and I had pretty similar experiences. So when I mentioned to him that I knew of a kid on the team who was Mr. Cum Volcano all the time for this one girl, turns out he had already seen you double jocked and figured it out. So he and I… what’s the word, Charlie?.. ya know…. Talked together about the same experiences…”
“You commiserated, dork.”
“Right. We commiserated and that’s when he told me he had a similar problem with his mentoree! It’s just that that kid isn’t on the team, so you don’t know him. Now, I realize that Charlie here is Mr. Sherlock Holmes, but if I could play that for a second, I’d say that the odds are that David told this other guy about our strategy, since his situation was almost the same as yours, and that it really was just chance that you guys were in the same bathroom at the same time.” He continued. “Maybe this isn’t really so bizarre after all.”
Skye was motionless… then he sat back, flabbergasted, in his seat. “So actually, that guy and I do have a kind of connection through Kirk and David. Weird. Fuck, man… it was just so bizarre. You think I’ll ever see that guy again?”
“Why, you wanna compare notes or something?” laughed Kirk.
“No, but… well, actually, it might not be so bad to…. What was it?… commiserate with another dude whose dick runs his life.”
“Um, that’d mean you’d have to commiserate with every fuckin’ guy here, man. You can’t swing a cat in this dining hall without hitting a guy who’s a slave to his dick. I thought we’d established that all of us are run by our horniness. Just the way things are…”
Silence descended for a time, and Skye found himself a little relieved and even managed a laugh out of contemplating the situation. “Man, this makes a good story… but then who the hell do you tell?”
“I dunno, Skye, but I’ll tell you something,” said Kirk. “I’ll make… oh what the fuck do they call that on tv cop shows?… ‘discreet inquiries’?…”
“Bravo,” muttered Charlie under his breath.
“I’ll ask David how things went for his mentoree and see what he tells me. We’ll see if his dude said anything, then I’ll let you know.”
“Yeah, that’d be nice. Thanks, man.”
“No problem, buddy.”
“And anyway,” said Charlie, “like I said to Skye the other day: this really isn’t a big problem. Your strategy worked, you saved yourself from embarrassment in front of Maricela…”
“Maria, asshole!” Skye felt his dick start to twitch.
“Whatever. You found out you’re not alone in this affliction, you’re still a cum stud, which is nice, and you didn’t even have to take care of your very first cum-filled condom. You had a guy do it for you, like some kind of British Lord. Finally, you have everyone’s imprimatur… that’s “approval” for those of you who don’t speak English…for beating off at bedtime and in the morning…”
“Like any of us need approval for that,” murmured Kirk.
“… or at least on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I don’t see the problem here.”
Looked at from that viewpoint, the situation was considerably less dire and indeed, contained some comic elements that Skye was just now realizing.
“Ok, dudes. I’m gonna stuff this food down and do some more studying before practice. I’ll see you then, Kirk.” He rose from the table.
“Ok, man. Way to be a super nerd.
Another piece of bread flew out of Skye’s hand and somehow landed inside Kirk’s t-shirt. Skye laughed.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 76 A break
Skye spent the rest of the afternoon in the library, at the table where he’d first studied some days before. He saw no one he knew, though he thought he’d caught a glimpse of Philip, the guy from the weight room, some distance down the hallway of the study area. That sight set him thinking of the odd adventure of his missing clothes and Philip’s slightly strange behavior at the time. He tried to dismiss it from his mind and returned to math and writing work for the next day’s class. He couldn’t help feeling a little proud that he’d managed pretty well so far in his courses, even though he knew things might get harder as subjects and learning became more advanced. Every so often, without even realizing it, he did what every guy in the library did: adjusted his cock and balls in his underwear. When he did catch himself, he smiled a little, thinking two things. First, if Charlie had been there, he might adjust himself, but it wouldn’t be in his underwear since he always went commando. In fact, now that he thought of it, Skye realized that if a guy had no underwear on under his jeans, his balls would basically float around and he wouldn’t have to adjust so much. Skye had never considered this, and he imagined himself for a moment or two going naked under his jeans. The idea didn’t seem as strange as it once had, and his cock agreed, starting to lengthen and thicken at the mere image of his equipment free-floating and the idea of other people not knowing he was commando. That last idea suddenly seemed very sexy.
Second, he was, after all, wearing two pairs of underwear at that moment—the very antithesis of going commando. He had to admit, of course, that his new underwear felt really great, and even two pairs felt kinda hot; it made him aware of his sexual potency. Again, the idea that people didn’t know he had this little secret, right there at the study table, made his penis react. He idly hoped he wouldn’t meet Maria as he had that other day.
He finished studying and headed over to practice. He entered the locker room and saw Kirk at his locker, as usual. He had just stripped to his boxer briefs when Skye arrived.
“Hey, buddy,” said the older student. “Any Maria sightings?” He grinned mischievously.
Skye’s penis stirred at the name but he merely said,“Nah… but I was thinking… I don’t think I need to double-jock any more. I think I can keep it under control.”
“You sure? It’s no problem. And anyway, why do you think that now?”
“Not sure… it just seems like it’ll be ok. I mean, I’m still double underweared from this morning and I think that’s trained my boys to behave…”
“Well, okay,” returned Kirk dubiously. “I guess if that’s what you think. I just don’t want you to start jizzing or something in practice. It’s happened before, as I told you.”
“Yeah, I know, but every instinct is telling me I can go back to normal.”
“All right then, whyncha gimme back my jock?”
“Sure.” Skye rummaged in his locker and tossed Kirk’s worn jockstrap to him. “Thanks for looking out for me, man.”
“You bet. That’s what mentors do, ya know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Skye stripped down to his two pairs of underwear. Kirk glanced at him but said nothing, and Skye pulled off both pairs and stood, cock and balls hanging. At that point, Kirk couldn’t help looking just a tad longer. He had, of course, now seen Skye naked many times, but he still couldn’t help an inaudible whistle of admiration for the beauty of Skye’s penis, the graceful hang of his testicles, and the over all presence they created, rather like a celebrity or royalty showing up at an important affair. Skye grabbed his own jock, pulled it on and adjusted it, remembering for the briefest of moments the first day in the locker room when Kirk had reached out to untwist his leg strap, and then pulled on his shirt. He poked around for his shorts and again Kirk looked at him appreciatively. He had to admit to himself that his young charge looked kinda hot in just a shirt and jockstrap.
Skye finished dressing and the two of them, along with the other guys, headed to the practice mat.
Practice proceeded with the usual routine of stretches, technical matters, demo’s and so forth. Everything was going well for Skye; his moves were silky smooth, his strength was instantly at his beck and call, and for fun at the break, he even did a quick “match” with someone well above his weight class, just to get a sense of what it was like. He felt he held his own reasonably well for someone of his size and experience.
Kirk complimented him, as did David. The latter’s presence reminded Skye that Kirk was going to investigate how things went with that other condom-wearing dude. Skye figured that would be an interesting story.
Practice resumed and just as Skye was flipping himself out of a lower position, something went wrong in his shorts. For a nanosecond, Skye didn’t know what had happened, but suddenly he felt his scrotum flop out the leg of his shorts and he realized he was no longer supported or bound by the jockstrap pouch. His jock leg strap had come apart from the waistband.
He was unsure for a moment about what to do. His opponent hadn’t quite figured out the situation either, of course, but he could tell there had been some kind of malfunction and so he stopped. “What’s up, bro?” he asked as he stood up and backed away a step.
“Um…”. Skye’s face reddened. “Uh, looks like maybe … uh… my jock leg strap broke?” The other guy looked at him for just a moment and then laughed. “Ha! That’s gotta suck. You okay? I didn’t grab your huge balls or anything?” He winked.
Skye smiled. “Nah.”
His partner just grinned. “Better take care of that, bro.”
“Uh, yeah,” said Skye. “I guess I’d better ask…”
At that moment the Coach, famous for seeing everything, interrupted: “Skye, you got a broken strap?”
“Yes sir. Dunno why it happened now.”
“No one ever knows why that happens. It just does sometimes. I have some extra jocks in my office, in that cardboard box in the corner. Just go grab one.”
“Okay, Coach… but I could borrow one from Kirk. He gave me his extra last week and…”
“Yes, I know, but I’m guessing you’re not double strapped today like last time and my office is just right there. I’m sure you can find one that fits. Off ya go.”
“Okay, Coach,” said Skye and he trotted over the mat to the Coach’s office. No longer contained, his cock and balls bounced noticeably as he did this, and a few of the guys chuckled. One even muttered to his teammate, “I just hope that box of jocks has one with a big enough pouch. You seen that guy’s equipment?”
“Yup,” his friend replied. “Let’s hope so.”
Skye walked into Coach’s office and immediately spotted the medium sized cardboard box in the corner. It contained a few folded shirts and some shorts and a large number of jockstraps. Skye grabbed a few and inspected each for size. He found one that seemed like a good fit, stripped off his shorts and unusable jockstrap, and pulled on the one from the box. The pouch seemed to fit perfectly and he made a few adjustments. In the process, he did not notice the word written in black Sharpie on the back of the waistband; “Coach.”
Skye then pulled his shorts back on. He was unsure what to do with the broken jock. His entire life experience on the Rez told him that you never throw away anything that might be useful. He wondered for a moment if he could sew the leg strap back onto the waistband, but he also knew he was clumsy with needle and thread. Besides, if the guys caught him sewing a jock, they’d probably make fun of him. The image of his grandma using her not inconsiderable sewing skills popped into his mind, but even he laughed at the idea of approaching her back on the Rez when he returned there for school break: “Uh, Grandma, could you sew this back?”
“Sure, Skye. What is this anyway?” Skye’s scenario stopped right there; it would be impossible to explain an athletic supporter to his grandmother.
He emerged from his reverie and just kept the broken jock in his hand. Once he was back on the mat, he wasn’t sure what to do so he said to Kirk in low tones, “Dude, what should I do with this?” Kirk looked at him and said, “You could throw it in the trash bin.”
Skye saw the obvious sense in this suggestion but, oddly, he found he didn’t want to. This was his first jockstrap, and some sentimental force in him pushed him to resist. “Uh… ok… Maybe… I could just leave it here on the bench, tho.”
Kirk looked at him, puzzled, but he was quick to sense certain things and realized that Skye had the same attachment to his first jock that many college athletes feel, so he just nodded. They returned to practice.
Skye spent the rest of the afternoon in the library, at the table where he’d first studied some days before. He saw no one he knew, though he thought he’d caught a glimpse of Philip, the guy from the weight room, some distance down the hallway of the study area. That sight set him thinking of the odd adventure of his missing clothes and Philip’s slightly strange behavior at the time. He tried to dismiss it from his mind and returned to math and writing work for the next day’s class. He couldn’t help feeling a little proud that he’d managed pretty well so far in his courses, even though he knew things might get harder as subjects and learning became more advanced. Every so often, without even realizing it, he did what every guy in the library did: adjusted his cock and balls in his underwear. When he did catch himself, he smiled a little, thinking two things. First, if Charlie had been there, he might adjust himself, but it wouldn’t be in his underwear since he always went commando. In fact, now that he thought of it, Skye realized that if a guy had no underwear on under his jeans, his balls would basically float around and he wouldn’t have to adjust so much. Skye had never considered this, and he imagined himself for a moment or two going naked under his jeans. The idea didn’t seem as strange as it once had, and his cock agreed, starting to lengthen and thicken at the mere image of his equipment free-floating and the idea of other people not knowing he was commando. That last idea suddenly seemed very sexy.
Second, he was, after all, wearing two pairs of underwear at that moment—the very antithesis of going commando. He had to admit, of course, that his new underwear felt really great, and even two pairs felt kinda hot; it made him aware of his sexual potency. Again, the idea that people didn’t know he had this little secret, right there at the study table, made his penis react. He idly hoped he wouldn’t meet Maria as he had that other day.
He finished studying and headed over to practice. He entered the locker room and saw Kirk at his locker, as usual. He had just stripped to his boxer briefs when Skye arrived.
“Hey, buddy,” said the older student. “Any Maria sightings?” He grinned mischievously.
Skye’s penis stirred at the name but he merely said,“Nah… but I was thinking… I don’t think I need to double-jock any more. I think I can keep it under control.”
“You sure? It’s no problem. And anyway, why do you think that now?”
“Not sure… it just seems like it’ll be ok. I mean, I’m still double underweared from this morning and I think that’s trained my boys to behave…”
“Well, okay,” returned Kirk dubiously. “I guess if that’s what you think. I just don’t want you to start jizzing or something in practice. It’s happened before, as I told you.”
“Yeah, I know, but every instinct is telling me I can go back to normal.”
“All right then, whyncha gimme back my jock?”
“Sure.” Skye rummaged in his locker and tossed Kirk’s worn jockstrap to him. “Thanks for looking out for me, man.”
“You bet. That’s what mentors do, ya know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Skye stripped down to his two pairs of underwear. Kirk glanced at him but said nothing, and Skye pulled off both pairs and stood, cock and balls hanging. At that point, Kirk couldn’t help looking just a tad longer. He had, of course, now seen Skye naked many times, but he still couldn’t help an inaudible whistle of admiration for the beauty of Skye’s penis, the graceful hang of his testicles, and the over all presence they created, rather like a celebrity or royalty showing up at an important affair. Skye grabbed his own jock, pulled it on and adjusted it, remembering for the briefest of moments the first day in the locker room when Kirk had reached out to untwist his leg strap, and then pulled on his shirt. He poked around for his shorts and again Kirk looked at him appreciatively. He had to admit to himself that his young charge looked kinda hot in just a shirt and jockstrap.
Skye finished dressing and the two of them, along with the other guys, headed to the practice mat.
Practice proceeded with the usual routine of stretches, technical matters, demo’s and so forth. Everything was going well for Skye; his moves were silky smooth, his strength was instantly at his beck and call, and for fun at the break, he even did a quick “match” with someone well above his weight class, just to get a sense of what it was like. He felt he held his own reasonably well for someone of his size and experience.
Kirk complimented him, as did David. The latter’s presence reminded Skye that Kirk was going to investigate how things went with that other condom-wearing dude. Skye figured that would be an interesting story.
Practice resumed and just as Skye was flipping himself out of a lower position, something went wrong in his shorts. For a nanosecond, Skye didn’t know what had happened, but suddenly he felt his scrotum flop out the leg of his shorts and he realized he was no longer supported or bound by the jockstrap pouch. His jock leg strap had come apart from the waistband.
He was unsure for a moment about what to do. His opponent hadn’t quite figured out the situation either, of course, but he could tell there had been some kind of malfunction and so he stopped. “What’s up, bro?” he asked as he stood up and backed away a step.
“Um…”. Skye’s face reddened. “Uh, looks like maybe … uh… my jock leg strap broke?” The other guy looked at him for just a moment and then laughed. “Ha! That’s gotta suck. You okay? I didn’t grab your huge balls or anything?” He winked.
Skye smiled. “Nah.”
His partner just grinned. “Better take care of that, bro.”
“Uh, yeah,” said Skye. “I guess I’d better ask…”
At that moment the Coach, famous for seeing everything, interrupted: “Skye, you got a broken strap?”
“Yes sir. Dunno why it happened now.”
“No one ever knows why that happens. It just does sometimes. I have some extra jocks in my office, in that cardboard box in the corner. Just go grab one.”
“Okay, Coach… but I could borrow one from Kirk. He gave me his extra last week and…”
“Yes, I know, but I’m guessing you’re not double strapped today like last time and my office is just right there. I’m sure you can find one that fits. Off ya go.”
“Okay, Coach,” said Skye and he trotted over the mat to the Coach’s office. No longer contained, his cock and balls bounced noticeably as he did this, and a few of the guys chuckled. One even muttered to his teammate, “I just hope that box of jocks has one with a big enough pouch. You seen that guy’s equipment?”
“Yup,” his friend replied. “Let’s hope so.”
Skye walked into Coach’s office and immediately spotted the medium sized cardboard box in the corner. It contained a few folded shirts and some shorts and a large number of jockstraps. Skye grabbed a few and inspected each for size. He found one that seemed like a good fit, stripped off his shorts and unusable jockstrap, and pulled on the one from the box. The pouch seemed to fit perfectly and he made a few adjustments. In the process, he did not notice the word written in black Sharpie on the back of the waistband; “Coach.”
Skye then pulled his shorts back on. He was unsure what to do with the broken jock. His entire life experience on the Rez told him that you never throw away anything that might be useful. He wondered for a moment if he could sew the leg strap back onto the waistband, but he also knew he was clumsy with needle and thread. Besides, if the guys caught him sewing a jock, they’d probably make fun of him. The image of his grandma using her not inconsiderable sewing skills popped into his mind, but even he laughed at the idea of approaching her back on the Rez when he returned there for school break: “Uh, Grandma, could you sew this back?”
“Sure, Skye. What is this anyway?” Skye’s scenario stopped right there; it would be impossible to explain an athletic supporter to his grandmother.
He emerged from his reverie and just kept the broken jock in his hand. Once he was back on the mat, he wasn’t sure what to do so he said to Kirk in low tones, “Dude, what should I do with this?” Kirk looked at him and said, “You could throw it in the trash bin.”
Skye saw the obvious sense in this suggestion but, oddly, he found he didn’t want to. This was his first jockstrap, and some sentimental force in him pushed him to resist. “Uh… ok… Maybe… I could just leave it here on the bench, tho.”
Kirk looked at him, puzzled, but he was quick to sense certain things and realized that Skye had the same attachment to his first jock that many college athletes feel, so he just nodded. They returned to practice.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 77 2nd-hand info
Skye’s replacement jockstrap fit him perfectly, and once he’d made final adjustments, including reaching up his shorts leg to reposition his hangers, he hardly noticed it at all. It seemed to conform to the outline of his equipment naturally.
Practice ended with Coach giving his usual spiel about working hard and so forth. The guys headed to the locker room, talking, laughing, and smacking each other. On the way out, Skye detoured to grab his old jock off the bench. He carried it in his hand into the locker room. Kirk noticed but said nothing.
At their lockers, Skye and Kirk pulled off their shoes and shirts, exposing impressive torsos that they themselves often took for granted but which were the results of hours and hours in the weight room. They shucked down their shorts simultaneously and stood unself-consciously in their jocks, pausing for a moment. The old Skye of a few weeks back would never have been able to be that comfortable wearing just his supporter but by now, of course, it had become routine, like walking naked to the shower. He tossed his broken-strap supporter into his locker.
Then he remembered: “Hey, Kirk, you said you had to talk with David. Did you get a chance?”
“What?” asked Kirk, whose mind was elsewhere as he idly scratched his balls through his pouch. “Oh yeah. Yeah, he and I had a chat.” Kirk leaned in a little. “He said his mentoree talked with him about their strategy, the same one we had, you know, and that this guy was relieved. He even mentioned that he’d helped this other dude, meaning you, and was amazed that both you guys were in the same situation. David said he was grateful for the advice and was gonna keep doing it for a while. The guy didn’t ask about you or anything.”
Skye paused for a moment. “Well, I guess that’s ok. It was really weird, though, him wearing a condom like me and then reaching over to take mine off. If you wanna know, it actually bothered me a little. Not the helping out part; he was right that I didn’t really have the technique about how to remove that fucker correctly…”
“Yeah,” interrupted Kirk, “we kinda forgot to review that part.” He grinned.
“… yeah, but what bugged me is that I just kinda froze. I mean, here’s a dude who was basically grabbing my junk, and I didn’t slap his hand or anything; I just froze.”
“Not so odd, really,” answered Kirk. “The sex part of that whole scene might make any guy pause for a moment, and from what you tell me, that guy was smooth and quick. I hope he’s not that quick with the girls.” Kirk gave a small laugh.
“Well, anyway,” resumed Skye, “I guess I’ll stick with that strategy for a bit. But wait… I don’t have any more condoms. Where do I get ‘em?”
“Drugstores sell ‘em. How do you not know that, dude?”
“No experience, Mr. Mentor. So fuck you.”
Kirk grinned again. “Actually, no problem. I have about three boxes of, I dunno, 30-something each. I’ll just provide you.”
“You don’t have to do that, man. I have some money now and….”
“Shut the fuck up, dork. I’m happy to. It’s not like I’m using ‘em by the dozen, ya know.”
“Why do you have so many?”
Kirk paused, hesitant to explain. Skye picked up on this and said, “What?”
Kirk tried to make light of it: “Well, ya know… my last year of college, I guess it was just assumed that I’d be getting laid every night.”
“Who assumed that?”
Another pause, then Kirk said quietly: “My dad.”
“Oh,” said Skye. “I see. I guess he figured his son’s a stud or something…”
A quiet smile from Kirk. “Yeah, I guess.” Kirk’s discomfort was starting to intensify, knowing how sensitive this area was for Skye, but the latter merely said, “That’s cool.” In an effort to keep his strong feelings at bay, Skye shifted the conversation and said, “Well, ok. If you really don’t mind, maybe I could come with you to your room and pick up a handful.”
“Sure thing, buddy,” said Kirk, a little relieved. He and Skye pulled off their jocks, looped the school-issued plastic web band thru them along with their other sweaty gear, fastened the clasp, and tossed them in the bin. Kirk might have been used to it, but Skye was still conscious that the locker room attendants washed their gear and replaced it every day, a luxury that would have been inconceivable up to now.
No Three Stooges activities today. The guys just soaped up and showered. An observer would have noticed that it was unconsciously expected for these athletes to spend most of their time soaping their cocks and balls, which were, after all, the central control room of their lives.
Skye and Kirk toweled off and returned to dress.
“Let’s go to dinner and then we can go back to my room for the condoms, ok?”
“Sure thing.”
Skye’s replacement jockstrap fit him perfectly, and once he’d made final adjustments, including reaching up his shorts leg to reposition his hangers, he hardly noticed it at all. It seemed to conform to the outline of his equipment naturally.
Practice ended with Coach giving his usual spiel about working hard and so forth. The guys headed to the locker room, talking, laughing, and smacking each other. On the way out, Skye detoured to grab his old jock off the bench. He carried it in his hand into the locker room. Kirk noticed but said nothing.
At their lockers, Skye and Kirk pulled off their shoes and shirts, exposing impressive torsos that they themselves often took for granted but which were the results of hours and hours in the weight room. They shucked down their shorts simultaneously and stood unself-consciously in their jocks, pausing for a moment. The old Skye of a few weeks back would never have been able to be that comfortable wearing just his supporter but by now, of course, it had become routine, like walking naked to the shower. He tossed his broken-strap supporter into his locker.
Then he remembered: “Hey, Kirk, you said you had to talk with David. Did you get a chance?”
“What?” asked Kirk, whose mind was elsewhere as he idly scratched his balls through his pouch. “Oh yeah. Yeah, he and I had a chat.” Kirk leaned in a little. “He said his mentoree talked with him about their strategy, the same one we had, you know, and that this guy was relieved. He even mentioned that he’d helped this other dude, meaning you, and was amazed that both you guys were in the same situation. David said he was grateful for the advice and was gonna keep doing it for a while. The guy didn’t ask about you or anything.”
Skye paused for a moment. “Well, I guess that’s ok. It was really weird, though, him wearing a condom like me and then reaching over to take mine off. If you wanna know, it actually bothered me a little. Not the helping out part; he was right that I didn’t really have the technique about how to remove that fucker correctly…”
“Yeah,” interrupted Kirk, “we kinda forgot to review that part.” He grinned.
“… yeah, but what bugged me is that I just kinda froze. I mean, here’s a dude who was basically grabbing my junk, and I didn’t slap his hand or anything; I just froze.”
“Not so odd, really,” answered Kirk. “The sex part of that whole scene might make any guy pause for a moment, and from what you tell me, that guy was smooth and quick. I hope he’s not that quick with the girls.” Kirk gave a small laugh.
“Well, anyway,” resumed Skye, “I guess I’ll stick with that strategy for a bit. But wait… I don’t have any more condoms. Where do I get ‘em?”
“Drugstores sell ‘em. How do you not know that, dude?”
“No experience, Mr. Mentor. So fuck you.”
Kirk grinned again. “Actually, no problem. I have about three boxes of, I dunno, 30-something each. I’ll just provide you.”
“You don’t have to do that, man. I have some money now and….”
“Shut the fuck up, dork. I’m happy to. It’s not like I’m using ‘em by the dozen, ya know.”
“Why do you have so many?”
Kirk paused, hesitant to explain. Skye picked up on this and said, “What?”
Kirk tried to make light of it: “Well, ya know… my last year of college, I guess it was just assumed that I’d be getting laid every night.”
“Who assumed that?”
Another pause, then Kirk said quietly: “My dad.”
“Oh,” said Skye. “I see. I guess he figured his son’s a stud or something…”
A quiet smile from Kirk. “Yeah, I guess.” Kirk’s discomfort was starting to intensify, knowing how sensitive this area was for Skye, but the latter merely said, “That’s cool.” In an effort to keep his strong feelings at bay, Skye shifted the conversation and said, “Well, ok. If you really don’t mind, maybe I could come with you to your room and pick up a handful.”
“Sure thing, buddy,” said Kirk, a little relieved. He and Skye pulled off their jocks, looped the school-issued plastic web band thru them along with their other sweaty gear, fastened the clasp, and tossed them in the bin. Kirk might have been used to it, but Skye was still conscious that the locker room attendants washed their gear and replaced it every day, a luxury that would have been inconceivable up to now.
No Three Stooges activities today. The guys just soaped up and showered. An observer would have noticed that it was unconsciously expected for these athletes to spend most of their time soaping their cocks and balls, which were, after all, the central control room of their lives.
Skye and Kirk toweled off and returned to dress.
“Let’s go to dinner and then we can go back to my room for the condoms, ok?”
“Sure thing.”
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 78 Kirk’s room
Dinner was the usual affair of wolfing down food, making dick jokes, passionate arguments about who the top college wrestler was, and so forth. After dessert, Kirk said, “Let’s go” and they walked to his dorm. Skye had never been in this dorm. It had a certain appeal that made it nicer than his own, though he couldn’t have described precisely why..
They walked up a couple of flights of stairs and into a hallway. Kirk opened the door and he and Skye walked into a common room with three single rooms off it.
“You have your own single room?” asked Skye.
“Yeah. Perks of being a senior. You’ll probably get one too in a few years. Of course, I’ll be outta here by then…” Kirk’s voice trailed off a little; he loved college and the idea of leaving it made him ineffably sad. Skye had the same reaction. He had never even thought about what college life would be like next year, with no Kirk. His spirits dropped but neither boy found anything to say, so after a moment Kirk said, “Lemme get those condoms. Come on in.”
Skye followed Kirk into his room, which was spare and tidily organized. No open drawers or boxer briefs draped over bedframes here. Skye imagined Kirk’s drawers were equally neat.
Kirk walked over to his closet, reached up to the shelf and moved a pile of neatly folded clothes and pulled out a box of 36 condoms.
“Lemme think about this,” he said. “I have no way of knowing if you’ll do what I did; my dick troubles, if you can call ‘em that, lasted about two weeks, and even though you only see her three times a week in class, right,? you might need it in case you run into her, so maybe take about 15 or so?”
“Jeezus,” muttered Skye. “Never thought I’d need 15 condoms… especially for this.” He smiled ruefully.
“Aw, cheer up, man. It really just means you’re a stud. You’ll get laid for real sooner or later.”
“Kirk?” came a voice from the common room. “You in there?”
“In here, Avery,” called Kirk.
Into his room stepped a muscle-bound senior: Military buzz cut, slightly tanned white skin, a square jawline, surprisingly elegant nose, and Huskie canine ice-blue eyes, set off by thick dark eyelashes. He looked like a soldier from some Hollywood fantasy film. He was wearing only a black pouch brief whose bulge drew the eye instantly, and he entered the room with a self-confidence that Skye picked up on immediately. In a flash, he realized that here was a guy that took control over every room he entered, and probably had done so since he was a boy.
Avery stood in the doorway a moment, and Skye admired the granite muscles on Kirk’s roommate. Skye couldn’t quite figure out what Avery’s sport might be. Maybe he just lifted weights, but Skye had a feeling there was more to it than that. Perhaps a decathlete? He thought. He didn’t know much about that area of sports, but he had seen it on TV and this guy looked like that might be his world.
Avery looked at Skye the moment he entered the room. Keenly aware of his own body, he instantly appreciated Skye’s obviously toned musculature, apparent even through his clothes. Their eyes met for just a moment and Avery said, “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
Kirk smiled and turned to Skye, “This is one of our suitemates, Avery. He’s a wimp, so be kind.”
Quick as a snake, Avery backhand slapped Kirk on his chest. “Ow…” cried Kirk in mock pain. “You fucker. Wanna play that way?” And in the twinkling of an eye, both guys were wrestling on Kirk’s now no longer tidy bed, each trying to get the upper hand. Kirk, of course, had long-developed wrestling skills, but Avery was strong as a bull and it wasn’t easy to pin him. Both guys were laughing as they struggled, calling each other stupid frat boy names and generally creating a mess.
After a couple of minutes—in which Skye didn’t know what to do; truth is he felt an inclination to join in the fun but wasn’t sure he should—the two broke away from each other.
“Now look what you’ve done, Asshole,” said Avery. He suddenly assumed a delicate-voiced phony air, “Now I have to readjust my equipment, thanks to your shenanigans.” He did indeed need to, as the head of his cock was showing above his waistband. He momentarily pulled the elastic waistband away from his waist and let his penis fall back into its normal place. He then resettled his junk.
“Now, if you’ll stop being a douchebag for five seconds, I’ll introduce you. This is Skye. He’s on the wrestling team. I’m his mentor.
Avery grinned and stuck out a heavily muscled arm to shake Skye’s hand. Another hand shake with a dude whose cock he’d just seen, like the naked guys on his first day.
“Nice to meetcha, Skye. Sorry about the wrestling match. It’s just that Kirk doesn’t know how to not provoke me, so someone has to keep him in line.” He punctuated this with another teasing backhand slap at Kirk’s chest, but the wrestler was too quick and jumped back so that Avery smacked his hand on the dresser.
“Ow! Fuck. Oh well, serves me right, I guess. Anyway, Kirk, I came in to ask… whoa! What’s with the condom factory?” He looked at the box of condoms with a raised eyebrow.
Skye panicked. Oh fuck, he thought, please please please don’t tell him about our strategy he silently messaged Kirk in his thoughts. He had grown to appreciate deeply the nonchalant approach to sex among the guys, but he thought he might self-immolate into a pile of ash if Kirk told his roommate the real reason.
But Kirk was an old campaigner when it came to covering up sexual matters if he chose. He was the one in high school who had always covered for his buddies by suggesting to them creative outlets for disguising their sexploits from their parents.
“Just doing my job as a mentor. Don’t want my man Skye here to be caught without protection. The last thing this stud needs is a pregnant girlfriend, right, Skye?”
Skye’s eyes widened a little at this, showing a certain naïveté that was not lost on Avery, but the latter simply said, “Good man. You’re lucky to have fuckbrains here for a mentor.” He grinned. “I just wanted to know if I could borrow your calculator. Mine’s all fucked up.”
“Sure, man… but you know, God gave you a BRAIN so you wouldn’t have to … oh wait, did he give you a brain?”
A nanosecond later, Kirk was back on the bed with Avery on top. He was rubbing his buzz cut all over Kirk’s face and neck and saying in his best tv-based Mafioso accent, “I got your brains right here. Ya like that, huh? How do them brains feel?”
But Kirk was not to be outdone. The next moment he had used his wrestling skills to flip the entire situation, and Avery found himself pinned in a pretzel position, having no idea what had happened.
Kirk just grinned. “How’s it going, Brainiac? Feeling pretty smart right about now?” The two of them experienced a silence of a second or two, and then burst out laughing. Kirk rose and offered the defeated Avery his hand to get up off the bed. Both were a little breathless from the exertion and the laughter. Kirk went over to his desk and pulled his calculator from the drawer and tossed it to Avery. “That’ll be $25, sir,” he said.
“Just put it on my tab,” replied Avery. “Nice t’meetcha, Skye. Be careful.”
“Thanks,” said a somewhat flustered Skye. “Um, you too.”
Avery winked at him and exited the room.
“Wow,” said Skye. “This suite looks like a lot of work.”
“Yeah, old Avery’s always harassing me. Makes it tough to get things done. But you’ll notice, my mentoree, who came out on top on that one, huh?”
Kirk grinned. “Now….” He counted out 15 condoms, tossing in an extra one for “good luck” as he called it, and walked Skye to the suite door.
“Ok, buddy. You should be all set. You have Spanish tomorrow and Friday?”
“Yep.”
“Ok, so remember: double briefed and condom at the ready, soldier!”
Remembering one of the few military movies he had seen, Skye responded with “Yessir!” and a smart salute.
Dinner was the usual affair of wolfing down food, making dick jokes, passionate arguments about who the top college wrestler was, and so forth. After dessert, Kirk said, “Let’s go” and they walked to his dorm. Skye had never been in this dorm. It had a certain appeal that made it nicer than his own, though he couldn’t have described precisely why..
They walked up a couple of flights of stairs and into a hallway. Kirk opened the door and he and Skye walked into a common room with three single rooms off it.
“You have your own single room?” asked Skye.
“Yeah. Perks of being a senior. You’ll probably get one too in a few years. Of course, I’ll be outta here by then…” Kirk’s voice trailed off a little; he loved college and the idea of leaving it made him ineffably sad. Skye had the same reaction. He had never even thought about what college life would be like next year, with no Kirk. His spirits dropped but neither boy found anything to say, so after a moment Kirk said, “Lemme get those condoms. Come on in.”
Skye followed Kirk into his room, which was spare and tidily organized. No open drawers or boxer briefs draped over bedframes here. Skye imagined Kirk’s drawers were equally neat.
Kirk walked over to his closet, reached up to the shelf and moved a pile of neatly folded clothes and pulled out a box of 36 condoms.
“Lemme think about this,” he said. “I have no way of knowing if you’ll do what I did; my dick troubles, if you can call ‘em that, lasted about two weeks, and even though you only see her three times a week in class, right,? you might need it in case you run into her, so maybe take about 15 or so?”
“Jeezus,” muttered Skye. “Never thought I’d need 15 condoms… especially for this.” He smiled ruefully.
“Aw, cheer up, man. It really just means you’re a stud. You’ll get laid for real sooner or later.”
“Kirk?” came a voice from the common room. “You in there?”
“In here, Avery,” called Kirk.
Into his room stepped a muscle-bound senior: Military buzz cut, slightly tanned white skin, a square jawline, surprisingly elegant nose, and Huskie canine ice-blue eyes, set off by thick dark eyelashes. He looked like a soldier from some Hollywood fantasy film. He was wearing only a black pouch brief whose bulge drew the eye instantly, and he entered the room with a self-confidence that Skye picked up on immediately. In a flash, he realized that here was a guy that took control over every room he entered, and probably had done so since he was a boy.
Avery stood in the doorway a moment, and Skye admired the granite muscles on Kirk’s roommate. Skye couldn’t quite figure out what Avery’s sport might be. Maybe he just lifted weights, but Skye had a feeling there was more to it than that. Perhaps a decathlete? He thought. He didn’t know much about that area of sports, but he had seen it on TV and this guy looked like that might be his world.
Avery looked at Skye the moment he entered the room. Keenly aware of his own body, he instantly appreciated Skye’s obviously toned musculature, apparent even through his clothes. Their eyes met for just a moment and Avery said, “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
Kirk smiled and turned to Skye, “This is one of our suitemates, Avery. He’s a wimp, so be kind.”
Quick as a snake, Avery backhand slapped Kirk on his chest. “Ow…” cried Kirk in mock pain. “You fucker. Wanna play that way?” And in the twinkling of an eye, both guys were wrestling on Kirk’s now no longer tidy bed, each trying to get the upper hand. Kirk, of course, had long-developed wrestling skills, but Avery was strong as a bull and it wasn’t easy to pin him. Both guys were laughing as they struggled, calling each other stupid frat boy names and generally creating a mess.
After a couple of minutes—in which Skye didn’t know what to do; truth is he felt an inclination to join in the fun but wasn’t sure he should—the two broke away from each other.
“Now look what you’ve done, Asshole,” said Avery. He suddenly assumed a delicate-voiced phony air, “Now I have to readjust my equipment, thanks to your shenanigans.” He did indeed need to, as the head of his cock was showing above his waistband. He momentarily pulled the elastic waistband away from his waist and let his penis fall back into its normal place. He then resettled his junk.
“Now, if you’ll stop being a douchebag for five seconds, I’ll introduce you. This is Skye. He’s on the wrestling team. I’m his mentor.
Avery grinned and stuck out a heavily muscled arm to shake Skye’s hand. Another hand shake with a dude whose cock he’d just seen, like the naked guys on his first day.
“Nice to meetcha, Skye. Sorry about the wrestling match. It’s just that Kirk doesn’t know how to not provoke me, so someone has to keep him in line.” He punctuated this with another teasing backhand slap at Kirk’s chest, but the wrestler was too quick and jumped back so that Avery smacked his hand on the dresser.
“Ow! Fuck. Oh well, serves me right, I guess. Anyway, Kirk, I came in to ask… whoa! What’s with the condom factory?” He looked at the box of condoms with a raised eyebrow.
Skye panicked. Oh fuck, he thought, please please please don’t tell him about our strategy he silently messaged Kirk in his thoughts. He had grown to appreciate deeply the nonchalant approach to sex among the guys, but he thought he might self-immolate into a pile of ash if Kirk told his roommate the real reason.
But Kirk was an old campaigner when it came to covering up sexual matters if he chose. He was the one in high school who had always covered for his buddies by suggesting to them creative outlets for disguising their sexploits from their parents.
“Just doing my job as a mentor. Don’t want my man Skye here to be caught without protection. The last thing this stud needs is a pregnant girlfriend, right, Skye?”
Skye’s eyes widened a little at this, showing a certain naïveté that was not lost on Avery, but the latter simply said, “Good man. You’re lucky to have fuckbrains here for a mentor.” He grinned. “I just wanted to know if I could borrow your calculator. Mine’s all fucked up.”
“Sure, man… but you know, God gave you a BRAIN so you wouldn’t have to … oh wait, did he give you a brain?”
A nanosecond later, Kirk was back on the bed with Avery on top. He was rubbing his buzz cut all over Kirk’s face and neck and saying in his best tv-based Mafioso accent, “I got your brains right here. Ya like that, huh? How do them brains feel?”
But Kirk was not to be outdone. The next moment he had used his wrestling skills to flip the entire situation, and Avery found himself pinned in a pretzel position, having no idea what had happened.
Kirk just grinned. “How’s it going, Brainiac? Feeling pretty smart right about now?” The two of them experienced a silence of a second or two, and then burst out laughing. Kirk rose and offered the defeated Avery his hand to get up off the bed. Both were a little breathless from the exertion and the laughter. Kirk went over to his desk and pulled his calculator from the drawer and tossed it to Avery. “That’ll be $25, sir,” he said.
“Just put it on my tab,” replied Avery. “Nice t’meetcha, Skye. Be careful.”
“Thanks,” said a somewhat flustered Skye. “Um, you too.”
Avery winked at him and exited the room.
“Wow,” said Skye. “This suite looks like a lot of work.”
“Yeah, old Avery’s always harassing me. Makes it tough to get things done. But you’ll notice, my mentoree, who came out on top on that one, huh?”
Kirk grinned. “Now….” He counted out 15 condoms, tossing in an extra one for “good luck” as he called it, and walked Skye to the suite door.
“Ok, buddy. You should be all set. You have Spanish tomorrow and Friday?”
“Yep.”
“Ok, so remember: double briefed and condom at the ready, soldier!”
Remembering one of the few military movies he had seen, Skye responded with “Yessir!” and a smart salute.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 79 Mr. Williams
Skye debated going back to his room to drop off the condoms, which were making kind of a lump in his pockets, but he felt that doing so would make him late to the university store, so he just tried to flatten out the packages as best he could and reported to work.
Mr. Williams was not out on the floor as he usually was. Curiously, Skye has some kind of feeling that things weren’t right; it wasn’t just that Mr. Williams wasn’t out; there was some other feeling in the air.
Skye looked all over the floor and saw no sign. Then the obvious occurred to him: the office.
He walked to Mr. Williams’ office and rapped lightly on the door. “Mr. Williams?” he called. There was no answer. Unsure, Skye pushed he door open a little, something he would not normally have done, but again, instinct told him something was off. He entered, and to his relief he saw Mr. Williams in his chair, his back to the door. He was leaning over an object and seemed unaware of Skye’s presence.
“Um, Mr. Williams?” Skye asked again. Still no response. “Sir?”
The older man straightened up a little but did not turn around. “That you, Skye?” he said in a slightly hoarse voice.
“Yes, sir,” said Skye. “I’m just here for my shift. Um…is everything ok?”
Still Mr. Williams did not turn around. “Sorry, Skye. I just need a minute. He rotated his chair slightly, and Sky was able to catch a glimpse of a framed photo in his boss’s lap. He couldn’t make out what it was.
Somehow Charlie came to mind and Skye found himself standing stock still, waiting. This proved the right course of action. After a few moments, Mr. Williams let out a sigh—deep, reverberant, agonized. He rotated a little further.
“You must be surprised, Skye, to see me like this. I pride myself on my professionalism, but once a year or so….” He trailed off.
Skye said nothing for some time. Then, with a quiet audacity that surprised him, he said softly, “What is it, Mr. Williams?”
The older men took the framed photo and set it on the desk. He turned it so Skye could see: a boy of about 18, ruddy skin, red-hair and a big grin on this face as he held a basketball in a driveway, the net and rim behind him.
Suddenly, it all became clear; Mr. Williams’ willingness to hire him after just a few minutes, the special arrangements he had made to make sure Skye got his pay a little early, the compliments he had paid him on his work, the cheeriness when talking with him, the sharing of customer strategies, the warmth he exuded with his young employee.
Skye looked at the photo and in a subdued tone said, “Your son?”
Mr. Williams merely nodded. Skye dreaded the next question that emerged in his mind: “He’s not… oh God, he’s not…?”
Mr. Williams nodded again. “A year ago today.”
Skye felt the agony of his boss, like a wild animal caught in a heartless steel-jaw trap. He said nothing. The two of them stayed in their respective attitudes while the sun cast a few dying beams through the dusty blinds. Time stopped.
Presently, Mr. Williams called on all his professional experience and said, “Well, you’d better get out on the floor, Skye. There might be customers. I have a few inventory things as well. And Skye?”
“Yes, Mr. Williams?”
“Thank you.”
Skye turned and walked slowly out of the office, his mind reeling. He had been so heartbroken growing up without a father, he had never even considered what it might be like to be a father who had lost a son. Such awareness occurs only after an incident like the one he had just had. He now understood how Mr. Williams regarded him.
Skye debated going back to his room to drop off the condoms, which were making kind of a lump in his pockets, but he felt that doing so would make him late to the university store, so he just tried to flatten out the packages as best he could and reported to work.
Mr. Williams was not out on the floor as he usually was. Curiously, Skye has some kind of feeling that things weren’t right; it wasn’t just that Mr. Williams wasn’t out; there was some other feeling in the air.
Skye looked all over the floor and saw no sign. Then the obvious occurred to him: the office.
He walked to Mr. Williams’ office and rapped lightly on the door. “Mr. Williams?” he called. There was no answer. Unsure, Skye pushed he door open a little, something he would not normally have done, but again, instinct told him something was off. He entered, and to his relief he saw Mr. Williams in his chair, his back to the door. He was leaning over an object and seemed unaware of Skye’s presence.
“Um, Mr. Williams?” Skye asked again. Still no response. “Sir?”
The older man straightened up a little but did not turn around. “That you, Skye?” he said in a slightly hoarse voice.
“Yes, sir,” said Skye. “I’m just here for my shift. Um…is everything ok?”
Still Mr. Williams did not turn around. “Sorry, Skye. I just need a minute. He rotated his chair slightly, and Sky was able to catch a glimpse of a framed photo in his boss’s lap. He couldn’t make out what it was.
Somehow Charlie came to mind and Skye found himself standing stock still, waiting. This proved the right course of action. After a few moments, Mr. Williams let out a sigh—deep, reverberant, agonized. He rotated a little further.
“You must be surprised, Skye, to see me like this. I pride myself on my professionalism, but once a year or so….” He trailed off.
Skye said nothing for some time. Then, with a quiet audacity that surprised him, he said softly, “What is it, Mr. Williams?”
The older men took the framed photo and set it on the desk. He turned it so Skye could see: a boy of about 18, ruddy skin, red-hair and a big grin on this face as he held a basketball in a driveway, the net and rim behind him.
Suddenly, it all became clear; Mr. Williams’ willingness to hire him after just a few minutes, the special arrangements he had made to make sure Skye got his pay a little early, the compliments he had paid him on his work, the cheeriness when talking with him, the sharing of customer strategies, the warmth he exuded with his young employee.
Skye looked at the photo and in a subdued tone said, “Your son?”
Mr. Williams merely nodded. Skye dreaded the next question that emerged in his mind: “He’s not… oh God, he’s not…?”
Mr. Williams nodded again. “A year ago today.”
Skye felt the agony of his boss, like a wild animal caught in a heartless steel-jaw trap. He said nothing. The two of them stayed in their respective attitudes while the sun cast a few dying beams through the dusty blinds. Time stopped.
Presently, Mr. Williams called on all his professional experience and said, “Well, you’d better get out on the floor, Skye. There might be customers. I have a few inventory things as well. And Skye?”
“Yes, Mr. Williams?”
“Thank you.”
Skye turned and walked slowly out of the office, his mind reeling. He had been so heartbroken growing up without a father, he had never even considered what it might be like to be a father who had lost a son. Such awareness occurs only after an incident like the one he had just had. He now understood how Mr. Williams regarded him.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 80. Out of left field.
Skye went about his work in a daze. He was able to help customers and rearrange some shelved goods. Mr. Williams had assumed his professional mask and you would never have known the grief he had endured in his office the last few hours. Around 10:00, Skye checked on him before he left but Mr. Williams merely said, “Good job, Skye. See you Saturday.”
Skye said goodbye and walked back to his dorm. He entered the room to see his naked roommate still struggling with Freud. Instantly, Charlie said, “What is it? What happened?”
Skye related the sorrowful moments of his time with his boss, and Charlie listened sympathetically. “That poor man. There’s no loss like that.
“I even tried to imitate you, dude, if you want to know. I thought ‘What would Charlie do?’ and I just stood still and listened.”
“Yeah, that’s an important part of counseling skills. I’m flattered.”
Skye was silent.
Charlie asked, “Are you ready for Spanish class tomorrow? Hey, what did you do about condoms? I assume you didn’t buy ‘em at the university store, especially with your boss in the state he was in, and I also assume you’ve gone straight and aren’t stealing stuff anymore, so…”
“Kirk took me to his room. He has like three big boxes of them. His dad…” Skye stopped.
“Yeah, I get it,” said Charlie hastily. “He’s a big stud and his dad knows it.”
“Well, truth is, he kind of implied he wasn’t using ‘em much.”
“Even studs have dry spells. I suppose he’ll get around to using them. How many did he give you?
“Sixteen.”
“Sixteen? Good, cuz you might need ‘em even when you’re not in Spanish, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what he said. So anyway, I’ll follow the strategy tonight and tomorrow and we’ll see. He did say that David—that other guy on the team—talked to his mentoree—you know, the guy who stood next to me at the urinal— and that his technique was working. It is kinda weird, though, you have to admit.”
“Hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. And I’ve gotta figure out this sex pervert Sigmund Freud. Back to studying.”
Skye took Charlie as a model and did some studying himself. After an hour or so, they went to the bathroom and got ready for bed. Skye stripped naked and hopped into bed. Charlie, already naked of course, did the same and the lights went out. Both boys knew they’d be beating off that night: Charlie because he almost always did, and Skye because, well, it was a kind of homework assignment. An alien with X-ray vision would have seen two college studs, hands on their cocks and balls under the sheets, working their sex centers for all they were worth. An even more sophisticated alien might have use futuristic equipment to read their thoughts: Skye’s ranging from the earliest memories of jacking off, a couple of girls he thought were cute when he was younger, some envy upon seeing older boys on the Rez who had shown him how to jack off and how to cum, one female teacher whose smile had dazzled him and caused strange stirring in his groin, and finally, having put off the inevitable for as long as possible, the sight of blond Maria and her brilliant smile and energy. That final image caused Skye’s balls to snap up and force huge spurts of semen to emerge from his thick, pulsating cock and land on his tight abs—or “cum gutters” as he had just that day learned they were called. Fuck man, he thought. That was a good session. That’s gotta be enough to keep me asleep all night. With unfathomable inconsistency, that is indeed what he did.
Charlie, though more sophisticated, was less complex. He fantasized about his older cousin and his girlfriend, whom he had once seen fucking when he was at an impressionable age. That scenario remained his go-to scene for night time jacking off.
If the aliens had had the patience to watch, they would have seen two handsome, athletic college boys slowly drifting into slumber, with a little light snoring from time to time, and perhaps even those from a different planet would not have been indifferent to the sheer beauty of young males, innocent and unguarded, sleeping in the same room.
Skye went about his work in a daze. He was able to help customers and rearrange some shelved goods. Mr. Williams had assumed his professional mask and you would never have known the grief he had endured in his office the last few hours. Around 10:00, Skye checked on him before he left but Mr. Williams merely said, “Good job, Skye. See you Saturday.”
Skye said goodbye and walked back to his dorm. He entered the room to see his naked roommate still struggling with Freud. Instantly, Charlie said, “What is it? What happened?”
Skye related the sorrowful moments of his time with his boss, and Charlie listened sympathetically. “That poor man. There’s no loss like that.
“I even tried to imitate you, dude, if you want to know. I thought ‘What would Charlie do?’ and I just stood still and listened.”
“Yeah, that’s an important part of counseling skills. I’m flattered.”
Skye was silent.
Charlie asked, “Are you ready for Spanish class tomorrow? Hey, what did you do about condoms? I assume you didn’t buy ‘em at the university store, especially with your boss in the state he was in, and I also assume you’ve gone straight and aren’t stealing stuff anymore, so…”
“Kirk took me to his room. He has like three big boxes of them. His dad…” Skye stopped.
“Yeah, I get it,” said Charlie hastily. “He’s a big stud and his dad knows it.”
“Well, truth is, he kind of implied he wasn’t using ‘em much.”
“Even studs have dry spells. I suppose he’ll get around to using them. How many did he give you?
“Sixteen.”
“Sixteen? Good, cuz you might need ‘em even when you’re not in Spanish, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what he said. So anyway, I’ll follow the strategy tonight and tomorrow and we’ll see. He did say that David—that other guy on the team—talked to his mentoree—you know, the guy who stood next to me at the urinal— and that his technique was working. It is kinda weird, though, you have to admit.”
“Hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. And I’ve gotta figure out this sex pervert Sigmund Freud. Back to studying.”
Skye took Charlie as a model and did some studying himself. After an hour or so, they went to the bathroom and got ready for bed. Skye stripped naked and hopped into bed. Charlie, already naked of course, did the same and the lights went out. Both boys knew they’d be beating off that night: Charlie because he almost always did, and Skye because, well, it was a kind of homework assignment. An alien with X-ray vision would have seen two college studs, hands on their cocks and balls under the sheets, working their sex centers for all they were worth. An even more sophisticated alien might have use futuristic equipment to read their thoughts: Skye’s ranging from the earliest memories of jacking off, a couple of girls he thought were cute when he was younger, some envy upon seeing older boys on the Rez who had shown him how to jack off and how to cum, one female teacher whose smile had dazzled him and caused strange stirring in his groin, and finally, having put off the inevitable for as long as possible, the sight of blond Maria and her brilliant smile and energy. That final image caused Skye’s balls to snap up and force huge spurts of semen to emerge from his thick, pulsating cock and land on his tight abs—or “cum gutters” as he had just that day learned they were called. Fuck man, he thought. That was a good session. That’s gotta be enough to keep me asleep all night. With unfathomable inconsistency, that is indeed what he did.
Charlie, though more sophisticated, was less complex. He fantasized about his older cousin and his girlfriend, whom he had once seen fucking when he was at an impressionable age. That scenario remained his go-to scene for night time jacking off.
If the aliens had had the patience to watch, they would have seen two handsome, athletic college boys slowly drifting into slumber, with a little light snoring from time to time, and perhaps even those from a different planet would not have been indifferent to the sheer beauty of young males, innocent and unguarded, sleeping in the same room.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 81. Morning wood song.
Both boys woke up at more or less the same time. Unsurprisingly, they both had morning wood. Skye was contemplating whether he should beat off again, but once Charlie had risen to go to the bathroom, his hard cock jutting out with his usual lack of self-consciousness, Skye decided he would just leave his own cock alone. It didn’t seem to have mattered the last time, anyway. The only strategy that had worked was the condom.
Alone, he too got up and then looked, as he had thousands of times, at the battering ram between his legs. It truly was an awesome Beast, and though it was causing him grief at the moment, he was certainly grateful that that old tricky bitch Mother Nature had given him such substantial sexual equipment. He almost—almost—grabbed his kit and walked with his hard-on to the bathroom. Certainly, half the guys did this every morning, so he couldn’t see why he was still embarrassed, but in the end, he chose to let it subside to a more manageable size. Sometimes he got tired of the commentaries.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and sauntered to the bathroom. As unpredictable as ever, the bathroom was very crowded. Guys were in all states of dress and undress. Naked dudes at the sink, brushing their teeth while idly playing with their cocks and not even noticing. Guys with tented boxer briefs whose morning wood had defiantly stayed in the picture. A couple of guys with hard-ons reaching up the side of their tie tea-whities. All of them groping, adjusting, laughing, tugging—the very picture of maleness.
After Skye had been there a few minutes, in came Alex, the resident intellectual, his circular wire-rimmed glasses giving him a scholarly air, even though he was wearing only plain white boxers and even though he was upfront about wishing his dick were bigger, up front he showed the notable tent of an erection.
With no introduction, he sang lyrics of his own devising to the well-known tune of “Spiderman”:
Morning Wood,
Morning wood
Why the hell does it
Feel so good?
Watch it grow
In your hand
How it jumps
On command!
That’s right!
Here comes the Morning Wood!
Somehow his voice carried over the normal noise of showers and chat, and the other guys began laughing.
“Holy FUCK! You’re a fuckin genius, man!” “Why don’t you quit college and go write for the movies?” “Hahahaha!You’re freaking hilarious, bro!” “Sing it again.”
To this last request, Alex responded; “Nope. One performance only. Otherwise, it’ll become stale. Well, I’ll tell you what, though. If you guys get all your homework done tonight, I’ll sing you a reprise tomorrow morning here in the bathroom. Deal?”
The other guys laughed. Some flicked water from the shower or sink at him, and a few tried to squirt him with shaving cream, to no avail. He scampered out of the bathroom apparently content just to have shared that little ditty for a moment’s amusement.
After both guys had returned, Skye said, more to himself than Charlie, even though the latter heard it, “Well, I guess now’s the time.”
“You need any help, buddy?” asked Charlie.
“Nah, it’s not that hard.”
“And let’s hope it stays ‘not that hard’ in Spanish!”
“Har har.”
“Hard hard.”
Skye fished a condom package from his the pocket of his jeans, ripped it open with his teeth, dropped his towel and grabbed his penis. He unrolled the condom a few inches and then let go. It hung there, like a pathetic icicle. Skye grimaced and pulled on his tie tea whites and then his gray boxer briefs over that. Again, he felt—though he didn’t know the term—girded for battle.
Both boys woke up at more or less the same time. Unsurprisingly, they both had morning wood. Skye was contemplating whether he should beat off again, but once Charlie had risen to go to the bathroom, his hard cock jutting out with his usual lack of self-consciousness, Skye decided he would just leave his own cock alone. It didn’t seem to have mattered the last time, anyway. The only strategy that had worked was the condom.
Alone, he too got up and then looked, as he had thousands of times, at the battering ram between his legs. It truly was an awesome Beast, and though it was causing him grief at the moment, he was certainly grateful that that old tricky bitch Mother Nature had given him such substantial sexual equipment. He almost—almost—grabbed his kit and walked with his hard-on to the bathroom. Certainly, half the guys did this every morning, so he couldn’t see why he was still embarrassed, but in the end, he chose to let it subside to a more manageable size. Sometimes he got tired of the commentaries.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and sauntered to the bathroom. As unpredictable as ever, the bathroom was very crowded. Guys were in all states of dress and undress. Naked dudes at the sink, brushing their teeth while idly playing with their cocks and not even noticing. Guys with tented boxer briefs whose morning wood had defiantly stayed in the picture. A couple of guys with hard-ons reaching up the side of their tie tea-whities. All of them groping, adjusting, laughing, tugging—the very picture of maleness.
After Skye had been there a few minutes, in came Alex, the resident intellectual, his circular wire-rimmed glasses giving him a scholarly air, even though he was wearing only plain white boxers and even though he was upfront about wishing his dick were bigger, up front he showed the notable tent of an erection.
With no introduction, he sang lyrics of his own devising to the well-known tune of “Spiderman”:
Morning Wood,
Morning wood
Why the hell does it
Feel so good?
Watch it grow
In your hand
How it jumps
On command!
That’s right!
Here comes the Morning Wood!
Somehow his voice carried over the normal noise of showers and chat, and the other guys began laughing.
“Holy FUCK! You’re a fuckin genius, man!” “Why don’t you quit college and go write for the movies?” “Hahahaha!You’re freaking hilarious, bro!” “Sing it again.”
To this last request, Alex responded; “Nope. One performance only. Otherwise, it’ll become stale. Well, I’ll tell you what, though. If you guys get all your homework done tonight, I’ll sing you a reprise tomorrow morning here in the bathroom. Deal?”
The other guys laughed. Some flicked water from the shower or sink at him, and a few tried to squirt him with shaving cream, to no avail. He scampered out of the bathroom apparently content just to have shared that little ditty for a moment’s amusement.
After both guys had returned, Skye said, more to himself than Charlie, even though the latter heard it, “Well, I guess now’s the time.”
“You need any help, buddy?” asked Charlie.
“Nah, it’s not that hard.”
“And let’s hope it stays ‘not that hard’ in Spanish!”
“Har har.”
“Hard hard.”
Skye fished a condom package from his the pocket of his jeans, ripped it open with his teeth, dropped his towel and grabbed his penis. He unrolled the condom a few inches and then let go. It hung there, like a pathetic icicle. Skye grimaced and pulled on his tie tea whites and then his gray boxer briefs over that. Again, he felt—though he didn’t know the term—girded for battle.
Opinionman
Jockstrap Fan
Ch. 82: Out of the clear
Skye felt confident as he crossed campus. He’d even gotten used to the feeling of the condom on his dick, and the double underwear really did make him feel kind of invincible. He wondered if instead of going commando when wrestling matches started up, he should do the opposite and double jock. He’d have to ask Kirk about if that made any difference in his confidence.
He approached the language building, purposely trying to look down so he wouldn’t see Maria if she showed up. About 20 yards from the entrance, he did look up and as luck would have it, there she was, walking ahead of him so he saw only her back and ass. His dick started to stir. “Down, boy” he muttered through clenched teeth. “She’s just a chick.” Still, he simply could not tear his eyes away from her until….
He noticed that she was walking with a friend, another girl, somewhat taller than average, with loose thick dark hair that swayed as she walked. In the midst of his struggles to control his penis, he nonetheless, like every guy, wondered if she was good looking from the front. He took another look at her hair and then saw the two women turn toward each other and give each other a long, lingering good-bye kiss. This was no peck-on-the-cheek between, say, girls that had known each other all their lives. This was an erotic, lengthy kiss between two women who had no concern about others’ opinions. It was clear, even to Skye, who knew nothing about all-female relationships, that they were a couple.
Skye, flabbergasted, stopped immediately. He let his backpack fall to the ground without even noticing. He watched the kiss for its entire duration, rooted on the spot. Yet again, a plug was pulled. His penis immediately absented itself, like a whipped cur who is afraid to emerge from his doghouse. All of Skye’s considerable sexual energy vanished. For one instant, he remembered reading once about eunuchs in ancient societies, and the mere mention of them at that time had been painful. Here, though, he imagined that this utter void of sexual feeling must be what the eunuchs experienced. Indeed, it wasn’t till that moment, when all sexual feeling had disappeared, that he realized that he had, up to that point, lived his life with a continual sexual undercurrent, without necessarily being aware of it. Every moment of every day had some kind of underpinning that had to do with his cock and balls, even when he wasn’t conscious of it. Now, however, it was as if an atomic bomb had been disabled by a child simply pulling a plug or twisting a knob or cutting a wire.
The kiss broke off. Maria headed into the building. The other woman walked away, presumably to a class of her own. Skye could not move for another minute. Finally, one of his classmates who recognized him, said, “Dude? You coming to Spanish?” Skye nodded, picked up his back pack and headed in.
The class engaged in its usual chit-chat, and when the professor arrived—a fireball of energy as always—the kids got ready to work. To have infused college kids with that kind of energy was no easy task, but the symbiotic relationship was perfect. Both students and professor benefited.
Skye went through the class in a kind of daze. Sure enough, in the course of rearranging small groups, Maria ended up in front of him. They greeted each other perfunctorily in Spanish, but though Skye clenched his teeth in expectation as she sat down across from him, he was amazed at the complete lack of sensation in his crotch. There was no erection, no frothing in his balls, no insistent urge to pumpfuck the air, certainly no cum shot; nothing.
He went through the exercises as best he could, feeling a huge range of emotions. Obviously, he had found the whole Maria-induced cum explosion situation distressing, but he also found himself kind of missing secret thrill of the unanticipatable orgasms. He began to have the first incipient inklings of that absurd and complex aspect of human nature: denigrating what we have and then craving it when it is gone.
All these thoughts occurred simultaneously and on a parallel track as he did his best to keep up with the language activities. When it was their turn to engage in the Spanish dialogue in their group, Maria looked at Skye a little puzzled; she must have sensed something, but the alteration in him remained opaque.
Class ended and Maria gave a friendly verbal goodbye. Skye muttered something and tried his best to be pleasant, but he was so flummoxed by the whole affair, he had no idea what he did or how it was received.
After some minutes in the empty class, he got up and went to the bathroom. He stood at the urinal, unzipped and pulled out his condom-covered cock. His cock seemed bemused, with no idea where to go, how to act, what to do. To Skye, it looked like some medieval jester with a silly hat whose jokes had failed at court and who therefore ruefully anticipated losing his head. If there was such a thing as penis shame, this must be what it looked like
Skye snapped off the condom, pushed his dick back into his double briefs and walked over the the trashcan in a variation of the previous post-class bathroom experience. At that moment, the door opened and in came the same fellow from two days before.
“Hey, dude,” he said casually as he headed for the urinal. “How’d it work out today?”
Still amazed at the brazenness, Skye nonetheless answered, “Didn’t need it.”
“Oh?” said the other guy. “Well, I guess that’s good, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. See ya later, man.” Skye tossed the condom in the trash and exited the bathroom.
Skye felt confident as he crossed campus. He’d even gotten used to the feeling of the condom on his dick, and the double underwear really did make him feel kind of invincible. He wondered if instead of going commando when wrestling matches started up, he should do the opposite and double jock. He’d have to ask Kirk about if that made any difference in his confidence.
He approached the language building, purposely trying to look down so he wouldn’t see Maria if she showed up. About 20 yards from the entrance, he did look up and as luck would have it, there she was, walking ahead of him so he saw only her back and ass. His dick started to stir. “Down, boy” he muttered through clenched teeth. “She’s just a chick.” Still, he simply could not tear his eyes away from her until….
He noticed that she was walking with a friend, another girl, somewhat taller than average, with loose thick dark hair that swayed as she walked. In the midst of his struggles to control his penis, he nonetheless, like every guy, wondered if she was good looking from the front. He took another look at her hair and then saw the two women turn toward each other and give each other a long, lingering good-bye kiss. This was no peck-on-the-cheek between, say, girls that had known each other all their lives. This was an erotic, lengthy kiss between two women who had no concern about others’ opinions. It was clear, even to Skye, who knew nothing about all-female relationships, that they were a couple.
Skye, flabbergasted, stopped immediately. He let his backpack fall to the ground without even noticing. He watched the kiss for its entire duration, rooted on the spot. Yet again, a plug was pulled. His penis immediately absented itself, like a whipped cur who is afraid to emerge from his doghouse. All of Skye’s considerable sexual energy vanished. For one instant, he remembered reading once about eunuchs in ancient societies, and the mere mention of them at that time had been painful. Here, though, he imagined that this utter void of sexual feeling must be what the eunuchs experienced. Indeed, it wasn’t till that moment, when all sexual feeling had disappeared, that he realized that he had, up to that point, lived his life with a continual sexual undercurrent, without necessarily being aware of it. Every moment of every day had some kind of underpinning that had to do with his cock and balls, even when he wasn’t conscious of it. Now, however, it was as if an atomic bomb had been disabled by a child simply pulling a plug or twisting a knob or cutting a wire.
The kiss broke off. Maria headed into the building. The other woman walked away, presumably to a class of her own. Skye could not move for another minute. Finally, one of his classmates who recognized him, said, “Dude? You coming to Spanish?” Skye nodded, picked up his back pack and headed in.
The class engaged in its usual chit-chat, and when the professor arrived—a fireball of energy as always—the kids got ready to work. To have infused college kids with that kind of energy was no easy task, but the symbiotic relationship was perfect. Both students and professor benefited.
Skye went through the class in a kind of daze. Sure enough, in the course of rearranging small groups, Maria ended up in front of him. They greeted each other perfunctorily in Spanish, but though Skye clenched his teeth in expectation as she sat down across from him, he was amazed at the complete lack of sensation in his crotch. There was no erection, no frothing in his balls, no insistent urge to pumpfuck the air, certainly no cum shot; nothing.
He went through the exercises as best he could, feeling a huge range of emotions. Obviously, he had found the whole Maria-induced cum explosion situation distressing, but he also found himself kind of missing secret thrill of the unanticipatable orgasms. He began to have the first incipient inklings of that absurd and complex aspect of human nature: denigrating what we have and then craving it when it is gone.
All these thoughts occurred simultaneously and on a parallel track as he did his best to keep up with the language activities. When it was their turn to engage in the Spanish dialogue in their group, Maria looked at Skye a little puzzled; she must have sensed something, but the alteration in him remained opaque.
Class ended and Maria gave a friendly verbal goodbye. Skye muttered something and tried his best to be pleasant, but he was so flummoxed by the whole affair, he had no idea what he did or how it was received.
After some minutes in the empty class, he got up and went to the bathroom. He stood at the urinal, unzipped and pulled out his condom-covered cock. His cock seemed bemused, with no idea where to go, how to act, what to do. To Skye, it looked like some medieval jester with a silly hat whose jokes had failed at court and who therefore ruefully anticipated losing his head. If there was such a thing as penis shame, this must be what it looked like
Skye snapped off the condom, pushed his dick back into his double briefs and walked over the the trashcan in a variation of the previous post-class bathroom experience. At that moment, the door opened and in came the same fellow from two days before.
“Hey, dude,” he said casually as he headed for the urinal. “How’d it work out today?”
Still amazed at the brazenness, Skye nonetheless answered, “Didn’t need it.”
“Oh?” said the other guy. “Well, I guess that’s good, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. See ya later, man.” Skye tossed the condom in the trash and exited the bathroom.