Three chapters.
Ch 15: Second Shower
Skye walked over to a shower head next to Andy and turned on the water. Like every other wrestler, he relished the feeling of hot pumping water on his sore muscies. The guys were yammering about this and that, lots of jokes and laughter, but suddenly above the din of male voices and noise showers, he heard, "All right, Gentlemen! It's time for our annual jock search!"
Skye turned around and saw Brad, Kevin, and Will, the champion goof-arounders of the locker room, standing in the doorway of the shower room in just their jockstraps. They stood shoulder to shoulder in a pose that clearly indicated it wasn't natural or spontaneous. Rather, they stood slightly tensed as though waiting for an entrance on the stage... and in fact, that's precisely what they were doing.
Brad turned his head and called out, "Hit it!" and from somewhere in the locker room a boom box blared out some techno hit from the 90's. The three wrestlers, with mock serious faces, started to step here and there, and swivel their hips in a not-very-good dance "routine" that looked as if they'd put it together in their dorm room for five minutes the night before.
The other guys started to laugh and whoop it up and the jock-clad wrestlers gyrated and did the old bump-and-grind, though not really in sync with each other. Their audience, of course, couldn't have cared less about the style; they just thought it hilarious that their buds were jockin' it up as a prelude for the search.
After about a minute, all three guys turned and faced the same direction, standing in single file, their shoulders to the showers room like passengers queueing up for a bus, : Brad, Will, Kevin. Brad grabbed Will's jock waistband, and Will grabbed Kevin's. Brad quickly turned to Ted and said, "Help me out, bro" and Ted scampered over and stood behind Brad, hands on his waistband. "Do it!" called out Will, who could barely contain his laughter. On command, the other guys yanked hard, and next moment, the jockstraps were around their ankles. They immediately stepped out of them, whirled them around like a lasso, whooped it up, and did a little spontaneous extra dance,heicoptering their dicks to the amusement of the team.
The music faded and Brad called out, "Ok, dude. We've grabbed all your jocks and are gonna add ours to the pile. Ya gotta finish showering in five minutes and then it's the tradition jock pile search. See ya in five!'
The three "dancers" laughed again, bucked their hips at their teammate, who could see that they were getting semi's from the activity, and took off to the locker room.
This was the oddest thing Skye had ever seen, but he couldn't help feeling the electiricy and good humor on the shower room, and he, along with the others, soaped up, eschewed the normal lengthy shower, rinsed, grabbed his towel, dried off at the door, and waited to see what happened next. The more experienced wrestlers, who had been through this the year before, finished and dried as well and congregated at the shower room opening.
Adam addressed the group: "Ok, dudes. Time for a jock search. Remember: you gotta find your sweaty jock from all the ones in the pile. Last one to find it has to make sure everyone's wrestling gear is collected and pinned together with those elastic loops provided by the school. Ready?"
The group took off, searching around the locker room for a pile of sweaty jocks. About 25 guys peered here and there: on top of lockers, under benches, in abandoned lockers with open doors, the coach's office. Finally, Ted let out a whoop: "Found 'em!" They had been stuffed between two right-angle rows of lockers, difficult to perceive unless you were right on top of it. Ted reached into the aperture and pulled out a handful of jocks and tossed them on the bench. He did this three or four times before he got them all, and by then, his teammates--his hunky, muscle bound, dick swinging, masculine teammates--looked for all the world like a bunch of women at Filene's Bargain Basement: each one was grabbing a jock and inspecting it to see if it was his, and if it wasn't, tossing it back into the pile.
Will exclaimed, "Found mine! There ya are, buddy." He grinned but on some level he knew he wasn't the only one who talked to his jock.
Gradually the straps were located by their owners, and it turned out Russell--a huge 6'6" 280 pound senior was last. He'd held onto the wrong strap for a good amount of time before its real owner took Russell's, tossed it down to the end of the row like throwing a distracting bone to a dog, and said, "Yo, Russ. That's yours. You got mine. Fork it over." Russell, none too bright in the strategy department, tossed the jock he had and then went to retrieve his own from the end of the bench, and it was only when he held his sweaty jock in his hand and sniffed it and recognized the aroma of his balls in the pouch that he realized he'd been tricked, for the other guy already had his, and Russell had lost.
He groaned in mock misery, but the other guys just laughed and soon he was grinning. Brad called, "Ok, dudes. Put your jocks back with your gear and our friend Russell here--who, frankly, looks like kind of a wimp"--and at this Russell just flexed his massive biceps--"will organized our gear, looped 'em and put them on the cart, and tomorrow you'll have your stuff ready to go. I myself will inscribe Russell's name in our Jock Search Book for future generations to admire."
The other guys laughed and headed back to their locker to drop their jocks, shorts, shirts and socks in front of their lockers. Skye felt an urge to go up to Russell, whom he hadn't really met yet, and offer to help him, but Kirk engaged him in conversation about opening a bank account the next day, and shortly the window had closed. Skye then figured he might have violated some tradition if he'd volunteered to help the "loser;" and besides, it wasn't that onerous a task, and Russell hadn't complained at all.
"Let's get to the dining hall," said Kirk. "After supper, I have to ask your roomie a question or two."
"Okay," answered Skye. "We can go back to the dorm after we eat. Think he'll be wearing clothes when we get there?"
“Nope."
Ch 16: Back at the dorm
Supper that evening was nothing particularly interesting: banter about various teams, discussions of hot babes, and one guy who mysteriously reverted back to middle school mindset and mixed a lot of his foods together on his plate and couldn't stop laughing about it. Several guys rolled their eyes.
When Skye and Kirk had finished, they got up and Skye said, "You wanted to come ask my roommate something, you said?"
"Yeah," said Kirk. "Just a quick conversation."
"If I were a bettin' man," started Skye...
"You'd wager he'll be nude when we get to your room. Yeah, I know. Remember, I'm the one who told you that he was a nudist the first day."
"Oh yeah," said Skye. "I can't believe it's only been a couple of days."
They walked to the dorm, into the hall, and up three flights of stairs. Without knocking, Kirk pushed open the door.
Charlie lay on his bed, naked, of course, his economics book over his face, breathing quietly, completely asleep. Kirk grunted a little chuckle.
"Typical," he said. "But of course, he's hardly the first guy to lie naked on his dorm bed. Think we should wake him?"
Skye shrugged. " I dunno. Depends on how badly you need to ask him." He looked his roommate over, admiring his tanned skin, his abs, and his nicely shaped cock, which seemed slightly chubbed as it draped gracefully over his sac. After the comments he had heard in the past two days, Skye was more intentional about comparing his friends' equipment with his own, and thus far, he was ahead of all of them.
Skye turned back, stubbed the front of his shoe on the iron bed frame, and yelped. Charlie's eyes opened and he sleepily looked at them. As usual, he revealed no surprise at anything--truly the guy you wanted in a situation where keeping one's cool was paramount.
"Hey, you guys. What's up? Hey, Kirk. Whatcha doin here?" Charlie lazily reached down and scratched his balls, completely unselfconsciously.
"Naked, as usual, ya bastard," Kirk scolded. " I guess you'll never learn."
"You can't be surprised at this point, buddy. Maybe we should have a rule that this is the nude room on the floor. Whaddya think, Skye?"
Skye just smirked and massaged his toes.
"Anyway," continued Kirk, "I wanted to ask you about having sports day in a few weeks. I was thinking every floor in this dorm could field a team and the other dorms could too, and we'd do all kinds of competitions: real stuff like dashes but also stupid stuff like, I dunno, three-legged races. We could even have a wrestling mat put outside and do some exhibitions for the college. Wouldn't hurt to have a lot of support among the students."
"You mean they'd be athletic supporters?" quipped Charlie, and laughed confidently.
"Old joke, buddy, but yeah," continued Kirk.
Charlie lay back and again absentmindedly scratched his sac. "Sounds like a good idea to me. What do you think, Skye?"
"I think you're not a wrestler in the first place, so you couldn't do that part. Besides, you couldn't do nude wrestling in public like that, and since I've never seen you with clothes on, this seems like it might not be your best situation."
"Hey!" responded Charlie in mock defense, "I wear clothes plenty of times... like to class and shit."
"Classes don't start for another five days," said Skye.
"Yeah, well for meals, then." Charlie grinned as he pretended to be devastated by his roommate's criticism. "Of course," he continued, "sometimes I order pizza and the guy brings it up and... well, you know.... at least he has a story to tell back at the pizza joint."
"Ah, you're just a perv... or at least an exhibitionist," offered Kirk.
"Can't argue with that!" said Charlie, who then VERY consciously, grabbed his cock and balls at the base and swung them around a few times for a laugh. "I wouldn't want to deprive the world."
"Yeah, nice equipment... but have you seen Skye's?"
"Yup! Sure have. I can't match it but who cares? I saw it the other night when...." He stopped suddenly, thinking that maybe Skye hadn't revealed the whole boxer brief wet dream situation.
"Don't worry, man," said Kirk, having seen the hesitation. "Skye told me all about his nocturnal jizz fest. He said you'd helped him clean it."
"Yep. Guaranteed results courtesy of my old man. In fact,..." He gestured to the iron frame at the head of Skye's bed, over which were draped the boxer briefs. Skye reached for them and handed them to Kirk with a shy smile."Thanks again, man. Sorry about the..."
"Dude," said Kirk, "I said don't worry about it. Remember what I said? You're not the only guy who jizzes in his sleep around here."
"Ain't that the truth," said Charlie, sitting up on his bed and letting his balls hang off the edge.
"Anyway, we're all good," continued Kirk. "Hey, Charlie, did Skye tell you he got a job at the college store? Very cool. And Skye we have to go to the bank tomorrow to open your account. That's my job as your"--here his voiced assumed mock stentorian tones and a slight British accent--" mentor and guide." He resumed his normal voice. "I mean, I'm not wrong, that you wanted some help with that, right, since this is your first paycheck?"
Skye blushed a little, even though he knew it wasn't his fault that it had taken him this long to have this important life lesson; it wasn't as if the Rez had paychecks flying through the air. "Yeah, dude, that'd be awesome. I still have to check with Mr. Williams at the store tomorrow morning about the schedule, but maybe at noon we could go?"
"Sure thing, buddy. Just don't, ya know, let on that you developed an 'interest' in the merchandise there." He winked at Skye, who blushed again. Charlie detected some story he was left out of, but he figured he could find out later.
"Okay, dudes. I'll see you later. Charlie, get some fucking clothes on. Skye, don't let him paw his dong all night like he always does, no matter how much he denies it." Charlie gave no response other than a grin. Kirk backed into the hallway and shut the door.
" 'Merchandise'?" asked Charlie a moment later. "What was that about?"
Embarrassed, Skye just snapped, "Nothing." A moment later I regained control. "Sorry man. I'm... well... on a kind of lark, I got hired yesterday when this other dude got fired, and...well, you know that whole thing about my one pair of white briefs?"
Charlie was a regular Sherlock Holmes. Immediately, he said, "Whatja do, steal some underwear?"
Again, the telltale blush crept up Skye's neck and face. Although he wanted to sink into the floor, he decided to at least respond, since it was obvious Charlie had guessed it. Skye simply hiked up one side of his t-shirt and tugged down his shorts slightly to reveal the black and orange waistband of the orange boxer briefs he had taken.
"Huh," said Charlie non-commitally. "Why?"
" I don't have any money... well, I didn't till yesterday, and I'm so sick of having just one fuckin white brief and..." To his surprise and utter shame, he started to tear up.
"Hey, dude," said Charlie quietly. "You don't have to worry about it. I don't know you that well, but if i had to guess, I'd say you only took it cuz there was an extra pair."
Astonished at his insight, Skye just nodded.
"Besides," Charlie said, "everybody's got some kind of secret, and those look kinda cool. Can I see them?"
Skye looked at him, puzzled, but with a shrug, he pulled off his shirt and undid his shorts and removed them. He did this with an ease that surprised him; two days ago--two days of seeing naked guys, erect cocks, yanked balls, jokes of every kind, jockstraps, wrestling shorts and so forth--had worked miracles on his comfort level. He stood there in his orange boxer briefs while Charlie stood up, naked in front of him.
"Yeah," said Charlie appreciatively, "they look pretty good." With the same lack of self-awareness he exhibited in everything he did, he reached out and undid a slight twist in the waistband. "Dude, you can't worry about this. You had your reasons. Besides, if it was extra, no harm done, and if you still feel bad about it in a few days, you can use your paycheck to buy a pair and secretly replace them, right?"
"I suppose I could," said Skye. "Man, you're a smart fucker."
"Famous for it," said Charlie and then, without another word, flopped back on the bed-- and "flopped" was precisely the word, as his balls were flung up as he kind of jumped and then they fell with a plop one he was face-up on the bed. He grabbed his text book and started reading, acting as if Skye didn't exist.
Skye had never known anyone like Charlie, but he was grateful and had the sense there was a lot hidden about him, which seemed kind of ironic given how exposed Charlie was, literally. In a flash of human wisdom, it occurred to Skye, who was, after all, only 18, that Charlie's nudity might itself be some kind of façade, distracting people from some other aspect of his personality. Skye pulled his shorts back on.
It was too early to think about going to bed, and although he had a box of books for his courses sitting unopened on his dorm room desk, he felt disinclined to open it. He didn’t seem to have the discipline of Charlie, who was already reading in some of his books; probably, Skye thought, he went to some school where they actually enforced that stuff. The Rez school wasn’t that firm on study habits.
Skye walked down the hall, noticing how many of the room doors were ajar. He idly wondered why they even bothered with doors. In just that short walk to the stairs, he saw one guy’s bare ass as he toweled off, one guy in maroon briefs, and one guy rearranging his balls in his boxer briefs. I guess guys never stop messing with their junk, he thought. I wonder if girls do…
He went down the stairs and out onto campus. Lots of people were milling about. There were several couples hand in hand, and without warning, Skye found himself a little lonesome and a little envious. He had never had a girlfriend, and he could see how guys felt, especially the ones in athletic shorts with no underwear. Their semi-erections were perfectly obvious, and they themselves seemed proud that people should see. Skye thought that some of the girls were probably displayed pride that they had induced this response in the guys, though to be honest, Skye mused, the guys would get hard if a mere breeze blew. It wasn’t just the presence of the girls.
As he aimlessly walked about, he ran unexpectedly into Kirk.
“Hey, Skye,” said his mentor. “I just wanted to confirm that we'll go to the bank tomorrow to open your account with that paycheck.”
“Actually, yeah, that’d be helpful,” responded Skye. “I don’t really know how to do it.”
“It’s not hard, as you can imagine. It’s pretty standard. What time?”
“I’ll ask Mr. Williams if I can be gone from noon till 1:00. Which bank?”
“The Sioux Savings and Loan on Foster St is easiest. See you then… oh, actually, some of us are going to the student union common room to watch football. You wanna come?”
Skye hesitated. Sometimes his shyness got the better of him, but already he’d made progress in taking charge, so he answered, “That’d be awesome. Lead the way.”
Kirk flashed him one of his winning smiles and they took off toward the Union.
In the TV room at the student union, a large flat screen was broadcasting a game between the Cowboys and the Rams. About a dozen students mostly juniors and seniors and all of them athletes, were watching and commenting. In addition, four older men were there. Skye figured they were probably the fathers of some of the jocks watching tv who had dropped them off for the start of classes next week. Though he had learned to suppress the pain as best he could, Skye couldn’t help feeling what he always did in situations where dads and sons were together: a bitter wound that started in his lower gut and pierced like a needle through his heart. He wished, not for the last time, that he had had a dad-son experience like this.
He was startled out of his musing by the comments of the older men:
“Now what Hollywood costume designer guy decided that giving the players see-through pants was a good idea? What the hell, man? You can see that guy’s jockstrap right through his pants!”
One of the athletes responded with, “I think it’s for practice mostly; when it gets really hot, you know, and you need all the air-conditioning you can get.”
A second father, bearded, athletic, and somewhat burly answered, “Well, I guess I can see that, but know what else I can see? The guy’s straps. Does he want the entire country to see his jock?”
A third dad, also big and muscled said, “ Frankly, I doubt he cares. I mean, did you care when they started doing interviews in the guys’ locker room? No one seemed to give a shit if some reporter, even a woman, had shoved a mic in some players face while his teammates stripped down to shower behind the woman. It’s a different era, man.”
To Skye’s surprise, Kirk spoke up. “Well, sir, I have to agree with that. I’m on the wrestling team and in a lot of the wrestling world, it’s been pretty standard to just wear your singlet and let everyone see. Although, our coach insists we jock up. He’s not a big one for having your junk clearly outlined for everyone to see.”
The older men laughed at this. “Yeah,” said one, “I do remember the wrestlers would just pretty much show the world their dicks and balls. We football players always wore jocks; it was stupid not to, and it was just the way it was. From what I understand now and have seen on the internet, these pants have some kind of design so you don’t need a jock.”
His son spoke up: “I told you, dad. They have this built-in brief that takes the place of a jock.”
The dad answers, “Yeah, I know, but have you looked at them? Doesn’t seem like it’d hold your balls in place. If you remember, the strap I gave you was like mine and did the job, right?’
“Yessir,” grinned his son, a tall quarterback-looking player with gleaming teeth and a square jaw. “Can’t argue with that.”
“So,” continued his father, “maybe you could persuade the guys on the football team to jock up anyway. I’d like to have grandchildren some day!”
The men laughed and nodded at this. His son only said, “I’ve tried, and to be honest, about half the guys still jock up.”
“Keep it up… er, I mean….” The father caught his double entendre and all the guys laughed even more.
After a while, Skye leaned over to Kirk and said, “I’m gonna go back to the dorm and get some sleep. Thanks for the invite.”
“Ok, bro. I’ll see you at the bank at noon, right?”
“Great. Thanks, man.” Skye headed out of the union into the still warm night and padded, tired, to the dorm and up the stairs. He entered his room to find Charlie leaning back in his desk chair, naked as always, talking on the phone to someone. Every few moments, like any guy in this position, Charlie reached down absently and tugged on his ballsac. Skye watched for a moment then realized how odd he must look. He grabbed his kit and went to the bathroom.