Native American's College Wrestling Experience

[Opinionman]

Ch 75: Now what?

Sitting on the bench, Skye found himself returning to the incident in the bathroom. How could the exact same situation have 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 do… 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.”

“Wow,” said Charlie. “Truth is, if there’s a real rational reason for two dudes to be condomed up as a prevention, the actual meeting of them in a bathroom isn’t all that odd, is it? So maybe this is just a quirky coincidence—shall we call it a “quirkincidence”?— The other guys tossed a couple of pieces of bread at him to keep him from becoming excessively pedantic, and 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]

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, whyntcha 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 bout with another wrestler 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]

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.

At the bench, 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.

Then Skye 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]

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.

 

[Opinionman]

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…” 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. William 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]

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 shortly returned 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 stirrings 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,” a term he hadn’t heard till he heard one of the wrestlers use it humorously in the locker room. 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 naked in the same room.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 81. Song in the bathroom.

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 trouble 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 more manageable dimensions. 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 tighty-whities. All of them groping, tugging, adjusting, laughing—the very picture of maleness.

After Skye had been there a few minutes, in came Ethan, 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, in a loud voice, 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, Ethan responded; “Nope. One performance only. Otherwise, it’ll become stale. 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 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 tighty whites and then his gray boxer briefs over them. Again, he felt—though he didn’t know the term—girded for battle.

 

[Opinionman]

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 he should double jock once the season’s matches started up. 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 some girl.” 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 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.

Flabbergasted, Skye 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 its 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 the secret thrill of the unanticipatable orgasms. He began to have the first incipient inklings of that absurd and complex aspect of human nature: despising 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 penis seemed bemused, with no idea where to go, how to act, what to do. 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 to 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.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 83 Abandonment

Skye remained in a psychological haze. He vaguely wandered toward the library, his feet following the habit from previous days, but he simply did not see in any conscious way where he was going. All he could really “see” was that long kiss between the two women. He realized it wasn’t as if he had an actual crush on Maria; they’d hardly said enough to establish that kind of rapport. It didn’t even rise to a long-distance crush, where some poor guy was mooning over the girl who didn’t even know he existed. Rather, it felt as if he had had a visceral organ removed from his body whose absence made him feel incomplete. Again, he was reminded that we often crave the very thing that causes us the most inconvenience or even pain.

Skye reached the library entrance but couldn’t decide whether to go in or not. He could go back to his room for an hour; Charlie might be there as he had been the last time and Skye could tell him. But he found it hard to imagine what he would say, and he thought perhaps he should just tell both guys at one time in the dining hall. His mind cleared with this definitive decision and he headed toward the same table he had found the first day.

Upon arriving at that table, he saw Zach from behind. The same sweater he had arranged to model erection-coverage some days before was now draped innocuously on the back of a chair. Skye immediately and smoothly veered away down an aisle of books. The last thing he needed was some comment or judgment from that guy, even if he had been supportive the other time. Plus, if he’d run into Maria there before, he might do so again. After a few minutes, he found a “dead-end” aisle and sat down and pulled out his history book.

Almost an hour later he realized he had read two chapters and had no memory of any of it. That kiss! How could that be? Maria was so hot she’d actually made him cum in his pants just by existing… and now he’d discovered she was into girls. He found that hard to fathom. It wasn’t that he didn’t know such relationships existed between men and also between women; it was just that, in his young naïveté, he couldn’t believe this particular girl had those tendencies.

A little further thinking made him aware that the other extremely troublesome aspect was the complete absence of sexual feeling that he’d been experiencing for the last hour and more. He was used to thinking about his cock and balls non-stop, like any college guy, so this urgent “sexodus” made him feel like his heart had been removed. He worried, not unnaturally, that his libido might be gone for good. He felt he could hardly get through history class; he needed to talk to his buddies now, but there was no chance of that, so he summoned his sense of duty and trudged to his history lecture.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 84. Rejuvenation

Unsurprisingly, Skye remembered nothing about the lecture except looking about the hall wondering which of the guys were having distressing sexual situations like him. He had no frame of reference and could only imagine various scenarios with the guys in the hall: endless fuck sessions with their girlfriends, porn addiction, roommates jacking off in bed in the dark, team circle jerks, etc.

The lecture over, Skye hurried to the dining room, hoping that Charlie and Kirk would be there. The Fates smiled upon him; both guys were at the same table, looking expectant.

Skye placed his tray on the table and faced them.

“What?” they both said simultaneously. “What the fuck happened?”

“Well,” began Skye slowly, “you know we had that strategy, right?”

“Duh. Did it work?”

“Didn’t need it.”

“Oh sure,” said Kirk. “That’s what you said the last time before you instantly told us you were lying. So what really happened?”

“Dude. She’s into girls.”

“WHAT??!”

“She’s into girls. I was walking behind her to class and she had this babe next to her and before she went into the building, the two of them kissed goodbye.”

“Aw, that doesn’t mean anything,” protested Kirk. “Girls kiss each other good-bye all the time.”

“Not like this,” said Skye. “This was like a 10-second kiss. I don’t have much experience with girls, but I can tell a porno kiss when I see one.”

Charlie and Kirk were stunned. All that discussion and planning about how to control Skye’s orgasms now seemed ridiculous.

“So…. How did your dick respond, then?” asked Charlie.

“It didn’t.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I mean just that. No response. It didn’t get hard. In fact, and I dunno if this sounds weird, but it was like my cock and balls just stopped existing. I had no feeling—I mean physical feeling—at all.”

Again, silence at the table. Then Skye spoke up in a voice that was much more timid than he would have liked to admit: “Does this mean I’m never gonna get a hard-on again? I’m tellin’ ya, it feels like all my sex drive just disappeared.”

There was an awkward silence yet again. Charlie finally managed to summon his “professional” approach and sought to assuage Skye’s anxiety. “No, dude. You’re being too hasty. It’s only been a couple of hours. And actually, you’ve suffered a kind of psychological trauma, just now, so it’s no wonder your dick is in hiding. Knowing you, it’ll be back, and soon. I’m sure tonight it’ll bother you again.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Skye sounded unconvinced. “I did kinda realize something about myself… well, about everyone, I guess. This cum-shot situation was a huge pain in the ass, but now that it seems gone…

“You miss it,” finished Charlie. “Yep. Nuthin’ more human than that. My dad used to say, ‘You don’t miss the water till the well runs dry.’ I think we all do that. Trying to understand why we all do is what I’m gonna figure out once I start my psych practice after graduation.”

“And anyway, Skye,” chimed in Kirk, “I’ve seen you in all kinds of situations, and if your dick doesn’t come roaring back within a day, I’ll fucking give you my car. Dude, you know you’re a stud, so have a little confidence.”

These blunt words, especially in the context of Charlie’s more intellectual comments just before, made Skye feel a little better.

“Well,” he said, “as long as it’s cards on the table, I guess I’ll have to wait till tonight to see if I can get the equipment working again.”

“Sure thing,” said Charlie. “And I’ll probably do the same, like last night. Deal?”

“Deal. Thanks, guys. Fuck, what a mess.”

“Well,” quipped Charlie, “a different kind of mess, for sure.”

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 85 Screen

Kirk and Sky arrived at the locker room door at the same time and proceeded to their lockers. Kirk asked Skye if he felt any better and his mentoree admitted that he had a little more hope than he had had that morning, when he felt like his entire identity had abandoned him.

The guys stripped as usual among the daily round of jokes and yells and dick tugging of the locker room. When Kirk opened his locker, he saw the jockstrap he had lent to Skye previously on top of his clothes. “Oh yeah, dude,” he said, “your jock leg strap broke yesterday. Are you gonna keep Coach’s jock or do you want mine back?”

“Coach’s? Oh, you mean the one I got from the box. I just figured that was just some leftover strap from practices.

“Didn’t you see the word ‘Coach’ on the back of the waistband?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Dude, look at the back of the waistband.”

Skye picked up the jockstrap, turned it in his hand, and plainly saw the word “Coach” printed in large, even letters on the elastic band. “Wait a sec,” he exclaimed, “this doesn’t mean that this particular strap belongs to Coach himself… does it?”

“What else could it mean?”

“I dunno. Maybe that it was part of a back-up collection he just keeps around in case something happens, like when my leg strap broke yesterday.”

“Nope. I think you’re just making that up. It’s his strap.”

“And he wants me to wear it? I can’t do that.”

“Well,” answered Kirk, “you can, but it if makes you uncomfortable I guess you could take it back to him. Seems to me, though, that it’s just easier to wear the one he gave you.”

“You mean ‘lent’ me.”

Kirk didn’t answer for a moment and then shifted the focus: “I dunno,” he smiled. “If it’s Coach’s jock, it probably has secret moves built into it and you can crush your opponent if you wear it.”

“Yeah, right. I wish.”

“Anyway, if you want the option, here’s mine. I guess you can just carry his back to the box in the office and toss it there.”

“Thanks, man,” said Skye to his buddy. Kirk tossed him his jock and Skye caught it and put it on the bench. The two of them stripped naked and pulled on their jocks and other gear. Skye grabbed the Coach’s jock in his hand and they headed to the wrestling room.

Once there, Skye walked over to Coach’s office. He felt he should ask permission to go in, but, unusually, Coach wasn’t anywhere to be seen. On the very rare occasions when this was the case, Kirk automatically took over in order to run practice, and he started to gather the guys. Skye felt he should just return the jock quickly and so he stepped into the office.

There was something slightly different about the layout and Skye was unsure what it was for a moment or two. He did see the box of clothing and placed the jockstrap in it. Upon turning around, he realized what was different. A simple Japanese-style screen—white paper panels framed in dark maroon wood—stood behind Coach’s desk. This was not something Skye had seen either of the two times he had been here before. His curiosity got the better of him and, after glancing around and out the door frame for a moment, he stepped behind the screen.

There was a basic cot, a small table with a few personal items on it, and a modest dresser on which stood four framed photographs. Skye, though nervous about being caught, was inexorably drawn to these photos; he had admired Coach from day one and so couldn’t help wanting to find out a little more about his personal life.

The photos were all variations on one theme: A young Coach—boy, adolescent, Olympic hopeful— stood smiling with a trophy in front of what were obviously his mother and grandmother. Not a man in sight. Skye stepped a little closer to inspect them. The only “occupants” of the frames were women, with the exception of Coach himself. This seemed curious to the wrestler… until he realized with a start that, if his family had taken any photos of Skye himself growing up, they would have looked just like this.

He gasped suddenly.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 86 Epiphany

With a sharp intake of breath, he realized that, unless he misread the signs totally, Coach himself had no father in the picture, either literally or figuratively. Could it be that Coach’s care for Skye—a little extra attention subtly administered, the acceptance of Skye’s behavior both when he had abandoned the wrestling lesson and then returned—was based in a kind of empathy that Skye had never considered?

A mere moment of silence…and then Skye became aware of the normal practice noises on the mat, and he realized he had been missing for longer than it took to simply toss a jock in a box, so he stepped quickly back around the screen, hoping against hope that Coach hadn’t returned, and scurried out of the office.

“Hurry up, Skye,” called Kirk. His mentor looked at Skye for a moment, and the latter felt that the senior knew something about what he had just done. However, Skye merely put on his “game face” and scooted over to his partner to do the drills.

A few minutes later Coach walked in and called Kirk over to explain to him that he had been detained by the Athletic Director. Kirk merely listened; the whole team knew Coach would never be late unless it were for some reason out of his control, so there was no issue. Practice continued, with Coach walking around the grappling pairs offering technical advice and encouragement. When Skye stepped back for a break from his partner, he hurried over to Coach and said, “Coach, I just wanted you to know I returned your jockstrap. I re-borrowed Kirk’s—the one he lent me last week.”

Coach looked at Skye, and the young man couldn’t read his face. The older man held his gaze. “I understand you were just being responsible, Skye, but you should know that when a Coach offers you equipment, especially his own equipment, it’s really a gift, not a loan.”

Skye was stunned. He thought he had done the right thing, and now he felt a little scolded. Next moment, though, a good deal of warmth returned to him when Coach put a hand on each of Skye’s shoulders and said, “I get it. But to be candid, Skye, I’d like you to keep that jock. Of all the new guys this year, you have the most potential, and I think it’s important to accept it in the spirit in which it was intended.”

This kind of attention from the man he admired most in the world bathed Skye in a glowing warmth he had never experienced.

“Oh. I see. Thank you, Coach. I’ll go get it now.”

“Yes, do that. And I think it’ll be awkward just having it lie around, so I suggest you double jock just for today and put it on in my office.”

“Yes sir, but I don’t really feel like I need to double…”

Coach lifted one eyebrow archly and let his gaze drop for the slightest increment of time on Skye’s crotch. Skye caught the glance and realized that the metaphorical embrace from Coach and his affirmation had induced a physical response in the young man. Clearly, his sexual drive had returned from its little hiatus, as was evident to anyone who cared to look at Skye’s crotch.

“Oh,” he gulped. “Yessir, I’ll go put it on now.”

“Good man.”

Skye jogged back to the office and even he didn’t seem to mind that his erection proceeded him by a quarter of an hour. The other guys could look and tease if they wanted to, but he had just received the most powerful affirmation in the world and he felt invincible.

In Coach’s office, he consciously ignored the screen, pulled off his wrestling shorts somewhat awkwardly over his shoes, fished out the jockstrap labeled “Coach,” and pulled it on over Kirk’s, struggling a little to get his erection under control. He finally decided to leave his half erect penis in an upright position for the time being as that would be easier than forcing it down. Once it had subsided, he could always adjust it to its normal flaccid position. He yanked up his shorts and ran out to practice, feeling like the world’s greatest superhero.

And indeed, that feeling played out, as he took his practice partners to the mat repeatedly and easily.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 87: In common

At their bench, Kirk and Skye were feeling good. Both had dominated their partners and were reaping the rewards of good training. They were tired but not enervated, and they both anticipated the pleasure of a hot shower as they stripped off their clothes.

Skye took off Kirk’s jock and handed it back to him. “I won’t need this after all. Did you hear what Coach said to me?”

“I didn’t actually hear it, but I know. I could tell. You must feel like a million bucks, man. Coach doesn’t hand out compliments easily.”

“You didn’t hear it, though? I guess you must be a lip reader.”

“More like a mind reader… oh, and a dick reader. Dude, you literally got a hard-on talking with him, and that told me all I needed to know. He wants you to keep his jock, right?”

“Dang, dude. You’re more perspicacious than Charlie!”

“Maybe. I have seen that exact scenario a couple of times: Coach’s hands on the wrestler’s shoulder and an instant semi as a result. Seems natural to me.”

Something about that last sentence gave Skye pause. After a moment, he said quietly, “Oh. I guess one of those times it was you…. Wait, did Coach give you one of his jocks when you were a freshman??”

Kirk only smiled. Skye felt an affection for his mentor at that moment stronger than any admiration he had felt up to that point. Once again, he recognized his good fortune. He also began to realize there was a lot about Kirk that he didn’t know. So much of their time together had focused, not unnaturally, on the younger man that Skye himself had not considered asking about Kirk’s life. He resolved to do something about that the next time the occasion presented itself.

Kirk shifted the subject just a little. “The great thing, my man, is that your libido is back. I toldja it wouldn’t be gone long."
Skye had never heard the term libido, even though his roommate had used it a few times in his comments about his Freudian studies, but he figured out its meaning from context. He smiled.

“Fuck yeah. It’s kind of a relief.”

“Sure is, man. Nothing to worry about. Let’s hit the showers and see if we can get away with it without the Stooges taking all our time. Just try to keep your dick under control in the showers. Otherwise, you’ll be like St. Brian of the Eternal Erection, and the guys will give you grief. I mean, you may have the biggest dick on the team but they’ll still razz you about it, even if they’re jealous! C’mon.”

Skye grinned and the two headed toward the cacophony of the shower room.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 88: Back to Normal

At dinner that evening, Skye, Charlie, and Kirk sequestered themselves once more, though Kirk said that they should make it the last time that they sat at a table apart, just the three of them. “It seems unfriendly, so after tonight, let’s go back to normal seating.” The others agreed.

Kirk informed Charlie about the events on the wrestling mat, and Skye seemed content just to listen, which helped him repeat the experience—perhaps the most pleasurable of his young life. As they were finishing dessert, Skye said to Kirk, “Dude, d’ya think we might go back to Bob’s this weekend. I realize now that by Sat afternoon, I’ll have enough money to get a decent fucking coat. Fuck. These South Dakota winters suck and they’ll be here sooner than I think. I’ve been freezing my whole life cuz I never had a decent jacket.”

“Sure thing,” said Kirk with a wink whose portent Skye did not understand.

The next day, Skye had Spanish again and was surprised to find he was angry with Maria. He felt betrayed, and it was all his sensible mind could do to persuade his reptilian brain that she had NOT betrayed him, that she had no obligation to him, that she hardly knew him, and that she was entitled to have whatever sexual proclivities she wanted. Of course, Skye knew on one level that his anger had no reasonable basis, but on another level, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to be mean to her, however, so he maintained a respectful distance. The crestfallen Maria sensed this and was at a loss as to what had happened to the magic she exercised over him as over so many guys; it just seemed to have evaporated. The only comfort in the whole wretched situation was that Skye’s cock-centered interest in her was gone, as were the instantaneous erections and ejaculations that had plagued him. Yet again, though grateful for the self-control that was now his again, he did, in fact, rather miss the wild, untamed nature of spontaneous jizzing.

Later that night, he mentioned this conflict to his roommate who said, “Yeah, when you’re done with your basic prerequisites, you can take some courses that’ll help you understand all this. What you’ve got going there is your Apollonian and Dionysian sides.”

“What the fuck?”

“It’s a way of understanding human nature. Part of us is like the Greek god Apollo: the god of light and reason and poetry. The rational side. That’s the part of your psyche that reminds you that she hasn’t betrayed you at all. She was just going about her life, not thinking of you. The other part’s like Dionysus, the god of wine and revelry… basically a frat boy. He’s the one that parties big time and does all kinds of stupid and harmful shit just because he loves chaos so much. Those two dudes will be with you your whole life, man, so get used to it.”

Skye was impressed again at the erudition of his roommate. He felt he learned as much from him as from any courses, especially as his current course load was basic, if not remedial.

“And by the way, I’m glad your dick reported back to work at practice. Kirk told me you actually got hard while the Coach was talking to you.”

“Yeah.” Skye blushed. “Well, semi. I couldn’t help it. I mean, can you ever help it? Coach knew but didn’t say anything, and Kirk told me he’d seen that situation before. In fact, he kinda implied he himself had been in the same situation a few years ago. Unbelievable.”

“And this,” responded Charlie, “is what I meant about an older man’s attention when you’re a young man. It’s crucial. You’ll remember that moment the rest of your life. You’ll have to come see me when you’re a hundred and I’m this famous psychiatrist with a pointed salt-and-pepper beard and wire-rims…”

Skye laughed. “Sure thing, O Geezer.”

“And as long as I’m being wise, let’s just be honest about making sure your recovery is complete. I fully expect you to beat off in bed; that’ll be the best way to make sure you’re back. I might indulge myself as well.”

“Perv.”

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 89: Two guys, Two beds, a few feet apart.

After some studying and a break in which Charlie taught Skye the rudiments of poker, deeming it a necessary part of a gentleman’s education, the two roomies hit the bathroom and got ready for bed. Charlie turned the lights out and both naked guys slipped into their beds. Yet again, there was an understanding that neither could violate the silence as each started indulging. Skye lay for a moment with his hands behind his head, thinking about the extremities of the day: a disastrous start, the total vacating of his sexual urges, the mystery then epiphany about Coach, the powerful words of that man, Skye’s physical response, Kirk’s support, Charlie’s insightfulness, and the incredibly potent return of his libido.

As he lay there, his penis, perhaps a little apologetic previously, now started to reassert itself. It grew quickly to its full length and thickness, and Skye enjoyed thinking about various fantasies and making his cock jump and throb. He teased it in his fashion by refusing to touch it with his hand, and the penis’s response was to become harder and larger than it ever had, as if to say, “I’m back, Fucker!”

For twenty minutes of this mental sex play, his cock leaked continual streams of precum all over his abs. The contracting of his sphincter kept the clear liquid oozing out, and each pulse sent lines of exquisite pleasure all through Skye’s body. He was tightly focused on this, but occasionally, if he stepped out of his state, he heard slight sounds from his roomie, and he knew Charlie too was experiencing the marvelous affirmation of his sexual prowess. Something about having another dude whom he admired and liked going through essentially the same movements and emotions as himself made his session all the more pleasurable.

Finally, after denying his own cock for almost half an hour, he ran his hands slowly over his muscled abs, rubbed the slick precum into the grooves, felt his penis twitch like a tiger ready to pounce, and lightly ran his fingers up and down the shaft of his cock, paying special attention to the ultra-sensitive frenulum. His cock responded instantly, engaging its ally, his hips. Without intending to, he thrust his pelvis in the air over and over, while taking care to be as quiet as possible. His body swarmed with intense pleasure, from his toes to his scalp, and as he cupped his balls, he felt that maybe he’d moved too fast after such a slow, agonizing start. But of course, it was too late. He’d breached the wall and by yanking down on his nuts, he knew he was going to come any moment. He had discovered a few years earlier that his balls hung low enough that when he was in bed on his back and his legs were bent, his scrotum actually bumped up against his asshole, a move that sent the most devastating shudders through him.

He chose that option now and as his sac touched his anus, his cock swelled up huge and formidable, and his balls unleashed their load, pumping pulse after pulse up the cum tube in his penis and forcing thick, copious white cum all over his stomach. At that point, despite his intentions, he couldn’t stifle a little cry, and his cock, perhaps bent on revenge, continued to fire over and over and over until he was completely drenched. He could do nothing but lie there for the next half hour. If he moved, he felt like his cock would spurt again. So far, he had heard no word from Charlie, and he couldn’t tell if his roommate had already completed his session or merely fallen asleep. At any rate, there was no sound from Charlie’s bed, and Skye hoped he himself had gotten away with not signaling what he was doing, although at the same time, he continued to wonder why he even cared. At this point, there weren’t really secrets between them, a state of affairs that Skye was grateful for. Indeed, as he lay there quivering a little, he reviewed with gratitude everything he had experienced at USD thus far. Even the Maria disaster had turned to good in the end.

He expected to sleep through the night, but no such luck. His penis was making up for lost time and woke him up five times—FIVE—just to let him once again know who was boss. This time, however, Skye didn’t mind. In fact, he countered the aggressive nature of the erections with a kind of gentle, loving caressing of his equipment, and, since the soft answer turneth aside wrath, his penis gradually gave itself willingly to him, and together they rode the waves of orgasmic ecstasy.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 90 A stop before Bob’s

The next day, Saturday, Skye finished his shift at noon. Mr. Williams had been his old self, with no signs of the grief he had displayed in his office. Skye didn’t know what to do except be as kind to the older man as the older man had been to him.

He met Kirk at about 12:30, as arranged, and they hopped into Kirk’s car.

“I guess since my dick’s come roaring back, your car is safe,” quipped Skye brazenly, referring to Kirk’s “offer” to hand off his vehicle if Skye’s dick failed to come through.

“Whew, yeah” said Kirk in mock relief. “Good thing that fucker decided to make an appearance. Charlie said you had a busy night last night.”

Skye was feeling so good about life that he didn’t feel any of the slight embarrassment he sometimes experienced in such conversations. “Five times, bro. That’s a fuckin record.”

“Well,… maybe for you…” joked his Mentor.

“Oh, well excuse me! I suppose you’ve had that happen more?”

“Would you believe twelve times in one night?”


“Nope.”

“You’re a smart man.”

They pulled up to the Mall and Skye asked, “Wouldn’t it just be easier to park near Bob’s instead of having to walk the length of the fucking mall?”

“Yep,” answered Kirk. “It would be.”

“But?”

“C’mon, dude. Help a brother out. I never go to the mall without stopping in to see my pal at Macy’s.”

“Oh fuck. You’re gonna pull that stunt again?”

“I told you,” said Kirk, “I’m just trying to help out a horny dude by giving him new material for his spank bank. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

“Naw, I guess not. As long as you don’t actually humiliate the guy. I can tell you as a Native American, I know a thing or two about humiliation.”

“Dude, chill. I’m just helping him out. Did he look humiliated to you last time?”

“No,” admitted Skye. “He actually looked like he was enjoying it.”

“So, no harm, no foul… but you gotta play along. Promise? If you don’t, I won’t take you to Bob’s and you’ll freeze your ass off this winter.”

“Fucker” laughed Skye as he punched Kirk in the shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s get this over with.”

They entered the store and wended their way to the men’s clothing department. Sure enough, the sales clerk was there and hovered a bit too closely as the guys picked out some shirts, jeans and, to Skye’s surprise, several packages of underwear.

They went into the changing room area, and Kirk whispered to Skye, “Strip to your underwear man, and leave the door open. What are you wearing today anyway?”

“The Tighties I won from Chris.”

“Perfect. Me too. It’ll make the guy crazy.”

Both guys retreated to their changing closets but left the doors wide open. Within a minute, the sales clerk had arrived as if on cue. Skye and Kirk pulled off the jeans and shirts they were wearing, and both stood in their white briefs.

“Hey, Skye,” called Kirk in a too-loud voice, “I think I got your jeans by mistake.” He stepped out into the corridor in his white briefs, a pair of blue jeans in his hand. Skye took the cue and did the same, and the two of them stood in their tighty-whites inspecting the jeans, discussing various details. Skye found to his surprise that he was actually rather adept at this kind of improv. He followed Kirk’s lead and made a point of adjusting his cock and balls in his briefs a few times till they had switched jeans and returned to the closet to try them on. Skye had glanced at the clerk, whose eyes were wide with interest.

“How do these look?” asked Kirk as he walked out, shirtless. Although the question was addressed to Skye, the clerk piped up. “Those look great, sir. Perfect fit.”

“Oh yeah?” responded Kirk, flashing his killer smile, which practically knocked the clerk on his ass. “The cut’s kinda different than some.”

“Uh, yes it is. We have other cuts, though. Would you like me to fetch a couple?”

“No, thanks, buddy. I have several pairs here.” He continued talking as he brazenly undid his jeans in front of the clerk and pulled them off. He made a point of “accidentally” pulling down part of his white briefs waistband as he tugged on the jeans. “Yeah, I really don’t get how anyone figured out how to make clothes. Quite a skill.” This rather nerdy conversation was in stark contrast to the sexual tension produced by a college wrestling stud stripping to his briefs in front of a desperate audience. “I’ll just pick up the others from the closet here. Skye, yours okay?”
Skye was exploring this kind of psychological manipulation for the first time, though he was careful to watch for any signs of mean-spirited talk. So far, though, he had to admit it seemed like the clerk was in high heaven. Skye had changed into a different pair of jeans but hadn’t buttoned them up.. He stepped out into the corridor with the front flaps of the jeans spread wide, like bird’s wings, his white briefs pouch on display. “I dunno… buttons are kind of a pain. Right, buddy?”

The clerk looked at his jeans and stepped forward. “I can help you.” He reached out and took button and button hole in either hand and expertly buttoned Skye’s jeans, his hands virtually brushing Skye’s penis.

“Thanks, man. That’s better.” He smiled and even let his eyes rest on the kid’s zipper, which was bulging.

“Yeah, these feel all right. I’m just not sure if they’re good with this underwear. I wish we could try on some of the briefs and boxer briefs we just picked up. Hey, buddy, do you think that’d be ok?”

The clerk looked startled. “Well, usually we don’t…

“I know,” said Kirk, “but in this case… ya know… cuz we’re valued customers…”

The clerk gulped. “I guess you could try them on if you’re careful.”

“Cool. Thanks, man.” And Kirk returned to his stall, shucked off the white briefs, and stood in the doorway naked with a package of boxer briefs in his hand. He made a point of not quite being in the sight line of the clerk, but the latter knew perfectly well what was going on and did what he could to subtly position himself. However, he failed. Kirk was too quick and always managed to be out of sight, although the clerk saw a flash of bare buttock a couple of times.

This cat-and-mouse game continued until the guys had resumed their original clothes.

“We will take these two packages of boxer briefs and these two of pouch briefs, buddy. The other clothes, we’ll have to come back for."

Again, the clerk gulped but managed, “Of course. Come over here and I’ll ring you up.”

Kirk followed, insisting on paying for everything, and the two of them walked out of Macy’s with their purchases.

“Wow,” said Skye, “that’s the furthest I’ve ever gone in a situation like that. I mean, not like I’m in them very often.”

“Yeah, it was a little more intense than the previous times, I admit. I had never tried the nude thing, but I just got into it. That guy’s gonna have a great time tonight.”

“You’re still an asshole.”

“A concerned asshole, you mean.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 91: Bob’s for the third time.


The two guys headed towards Bob’s. Having spent more time than he anticipated at Macy’s, Skye hoped to find a coat quickly and get back to campus. Luckily, the store had just received a shipment of winter coats, and Skye located them easily and fished through them on the rack, looking for something inexpensive but warm. He had had enough of uncomfortably cold winters. Engrossed in his search he did not notice that in the next aisle over were two guys he’d gotten to know slightly: Matt and Mason, the two high school students who had produced such tension in their locker room.

“Hey, Skye,” chimed out Matt in a friendly voice. Skye looked up.

“Oh! …um, hey, Matt. Didn’t think I’d see you here again.”

“Hi, Skye” said Mason in a subdued tone. He had not forgotten the way Skye had upbraided him and forced him to back off Matt in their previous encounter. Still, he seemed less aggressive than he had been. In fact, Skye got the impression that the two of them had become friends.

“You guys looking for something in particular?” asked Skye, though what he really wanted to ask was “Did you guys figure out how to get along?” And if truth be told, of even more interest to him was Charlie’s question: Had Mason mocked Matt because he himself had to wear tighty whites due to his tyrannical father?

“Just winter coats. Mason said he’d come with me and help.”

This surprised Skye, but it did kind of answer the question of their relationship. They seemed to have moved beyond immature high school locker room teasing.

“Cool,” said Skye. “Me too.”

“Yeah.” There was an uncomfortable pause, all three of them recalling their previous encounter in the changing room. Mason gradually moved further down the aisle, always pretending to look at the various options. Skye jerked his head subtly to indicate that Matt should meet him at the other end of the aisle. A few moments later, Skye asked, “So you guys are getting along now? What happened?”

“Yeah. Weird, right? After that incident in the changing room here, I gotta admit he stuck to his word and stopped harassing me. I let it go, but the other day after school, I was in one of the boys’ rooms and he came out of the stall, saw me, and flushed crimson, man.” Matt glanced down the aisle to confirm that Mason was out of earshot. “I could see the waistband of what was clearly rolled up underwear sticking out of his pocket a little. I recognized it as boxer briefs and I wondered if he’d suddenly gone commando but then I realized he’d changed underwear. I thought about our incident here and figured he had probably changed into tighty whities. I looked at his pocket and then up at him and he got all defensive: ‘You got a problem?’ I just looked at him and said, ‘Dude, you don’t have to get all bent out of shape. Your business is yours.’

“Then it was like a fuckin’ dam had burst. He got red in the face and said, ‘I guess you wanna know what I’m doing, especially after our little episode at Bob’s with your college buddy. Fine. Fuck you. I changed into.. yeah… tighties cuz if I don’t, when I get home…’ His lip actually quivered right then, and his voice dropped: '… cuz if I don’t my dad gets super mad.’

“How does he even know?” I asked. “I mean, does he inspect or something?

“Mason couldn’t even talk, he was so upset. Then I figured it out. I tried to be nice and so I said, 'Oh. You mean like he checks to see if you’re wearing tighties?’…and the guy just opened up! He told me his dad had made it clear that real men wear only one kind of underwear. His dad made him wear tightie’s and actually fucking inspected to see what he was wearing in the morning. The guy changed secretly at school into boxer briefs like most guys, and once we talked about it, you could see the relief. He’s been a lot nicer since then. That scene in the changing room here broke the whole thing open. I was gonna come to the university store and tell you, but I didn’t get the chance. Hold it.”

Mason had returned to within ear-range and so the other two talked about jackets. After a few minutes, the two high schoolers said good-bye and went off with a coat for Matt, but they hadn’t completely foregone their high school ways; Matt turned back, walked up to Skye and said, “Hey, know why shopping relieves horniness?”

Skye was startled by the candor of what he figured was sure to be a dumb joke. He also felt that Matt was being a little loud.

“No, why?”

“Cuz you gotta jacket off the rack!” Mason heard this as well and both boys laughed like the high schoolers they were. Skye just smiled and said good-naturedly, “Time for you to go, buddy!” The two boys headed toward the checkout counter. Skye wished he could have used his “magic discount powers” with that cashier, but there was no way to do that. On reflection, he was stunned that Charlie had pegged so accurately the whole dynamic of these two, plus Mason’s father. His admiration for his roommate increased. He wished he could have communicated Charlie’s insights to Matt, but the moment had passed with the departure of the high schoolers.

Kirk wondered over with a coat. “I found this. It looks warm and cool… hey! Warm and cool! Get it?” Kirk, not given to corny jokes, slapped his thighs in self-congratulatory ridicule of this old-timey style joke and Skye just rolled his eyes: “I’m gonna tell Charlie about that, and he’ll ride your ass.” Kirk grinned.


Skye tried on the coat and found it a perfect fit, and actually a bit of a bargain. Once again, Kirk had come through for him. He had considered buying some more underwear and seeing if he could get it for free from that cashier, but since Kirk had already bought some at Macy’s, he felt he shouldn’t tempt fate. He and Kirk went to the checkout counters, and, surprisingly, there was that same cashier, so Skye made a point of going to him and flirting just a little, but there was no discount. The two went back to the car, and Skye said, “This’ll be great. When it gets cold, I’m gonna be so…”

“Roasty Fuckin’ Toasty?” offered Kirk, clearly using a phrase he’d picked up somewhere.

“Frat boy,” said Skye.

“Caring frat boy.”

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 92. Philip

Back on campus, the two split up after Skye had thanked Kirk for the ride. Skye returned to his room, hoping to tell Charlie about the whole situation between Mason and Matt, but his roommate was absent. A little restless, Skye thought he might hit the weight room one more time.

Though it was slightly out of the way, Skye somehow felt the siren call of his Coach jockstrap. He didn’t know why he felt he had to wear it to work out; perhaps he thought it was a way of honoring the man. He shrugged, grabbed a t-shirt, shorts, and socks, tossed them in his grocery bag with yet another thought toward buying a gym bag soon, and hiked over to the wrestling locker room, where Skye took the Coach jock from his locker. Merely holding it brought him the greatest pleasure, remembering what the Coach had said and how he had offered him such an important token of his life.

Skye entered the campus weight room about 10 minutes later and looked around. There weren’t too many people there, mostly guys, of course. Skye idly wondered if Maria worked out and if she did, was it here, and if so, what exercises did she do and if he saw her, would his dick react as it had the first time.

However, she did not appear, and he walked to the locker room. He had something in mind. He walked to the same locker he had used before, right next to Philip’s. He changed clothes, pulling on the jock with pleasure and noting that his cock started to chub a little at that moment. He nonetheless kept his focus and went out onto the floor. After about an hour, he was pleasantly tired, and returned to the locker room, intending to sit in the sauna. He stripped off his clothes and tossed them in the locker, the jock on top.

He headed naked to the sauna, grabbing a towel on the way. To his surprise, he saw Philip upon entering the heated room.

“Hey, Philip,” said Skye, assuming a friendly face and tone.

“Oh!” Philip seemed surprised. “Hey, Skye.”

“Did you work out? I didn’t see you out there.”

“Nah, just did some stretching in the yoga room. I think I strained my shoulder muscle last time.”

“Bummer.” Skye tried to examine Philip without giving away the fact. The two found they had nothing else to say. Philip seemed uncomfortable and Skye had his reasons for wondering about him.

After about ten minutes, Philip rose and wrapped his towel around his waist. “Time for a shower,” he said to no one in particular, and he exited the sauna. Skye remained for another 7 or 8 minutes and then, draping the towel around his shoulders, left the sauna himself. However, instead of heading to the showers, he walked quietly back to the aisle where he knew Philip would be changing.

He stood, naked and still, at the end of the aisle with the towel around his neck. To his surprise, and yet not to his surprise, he saw a naked Philip open Skye’s locker and take out his stack of clothes. Skye did not know what Philip planned to do, but in that moment his suspicions about Philip being the clothing thief from a couple of weeks before were confirmed. Philip simply held the stack of clothes to his bare chest for a moment.

Faster than thought, before he even knew it, Skye leapt at Philip and knocked him on his bare butt on the bench. Skye’s clothes flew through the air and he caught, from the corner of his eye, the Coach jock falling on the ground. The importance of that piece of clothing triggered something violent in Skye. It was one thing to have his old graying briefs taken; though they were his “trusty pal,” they had nowhere near the psychic importance of a jockstrap given to him by his Coach, a man who had taken extra care with him and, perhaps more potently, had himself grown up without a father. There was no mercy in Skye at that moment. He grabbed the ends of the towel sitting around his neck and in one movement looped it around Philip’s neck and crossed the two ends over each other, effectively choking him.

“What the FUCK?!” cried Skye. “You’re a fuckin thief, asshole. I should choke you right here. You’re the guy that took my stuff the other week, and now you’re at it again?!”

He had just enough presence of mind not to thrust his closed fist into Philip’s nose, a move that, though possibly gratifying, might have intensified the seriousness of the situation, including legally. Instead, he open-hand slapped him across the cheek and at the same time released the towel. The strike knocked Philip off the bench, and in a frozen moment, one naked avenging angel towered over a naked, abject thief.

Surprisingly, Philip did nothing. He just sat on his bare ass on the floor and looked at Skye.

Deep down, Skye was not really a fighter, and so he took a step back to assess the situation. Philip gingerly touched the cheek that Skye had slapped and looked up into the eyes of his attacker. He held Skye’s gaze for a moment, and the latter felt like he might have to punch him again. Though not violent by nature, Skye had enough anger in him due to his life experience to keep him on the edge of doing some real harm. Philip looked at him: “I’m sorry, Skye.”

“That’s it? ‘I’m sorry, Skye’? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you take my shit?”

Philip dropped his gaze and merely stared at the floor.

“Wait a sec,” said Skye. “Is this why you only wrestled one year?”

Philip hung his head. Despite the toughness of life on the Rez, Skye was still somewhat innocent, but even he wondered if he were looking at what essentially were crocodile tears. Was Philip’s shame genuine?

“Answer me, fucker,” he growled as he once again looped the towel around Philip’s neck and used the leverage to hoist the other man to his feet and then shoved his bare ass up against the row of lockers. He pulled his arm back, still open-palmed. Philip did not flinch. He simply stared ahead and said, “How did you know that?”

“You told me, jerk off, plus I asked one of the seniors.”

“And what did he say?”

“That it was your story to tell, not his.”

“Ah, that’d be Kirk. That guy always does the right thing.” He said this with such an air of wistfulness that Skye was taken aback. Did Philip actually admire Kirk?

“Out with it, dickhead or I’ll fuckin pummel your ass.”

“Okay, man. Relax. You can see I’m not doing anything. I’ll even pick up your clothes if you want.”
“Yeah, I do want.”

Philip reached down to retrieve the shirt and shorts but when he reached for the jock, Skye slapped his hand away. “Not that, man. No thief touches that.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. I’m not an idiot.”

“Maybe not but you are a fuckin thief.”

Again, Philip stared ahead.

“Tell me,” ordered Skye.

Philip looked up. “You won’t believe me. No one does. I just can’t help taking stuff. I’ve always done it, ever since I was little: stuff from stores, other guys’ toys, clothes, even school papers. It’s like some demon takes over.”

“Uh huh. Sounds like a lame-ass excuse to me.”

“I know…but it’s true.”

Skye paused for a moment and let his anger cool just a touch. “You ever try to get some professional help, asswipe?”

“What, you mean here? No way could I start with a counselor. I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

That last phrase triggered a memory in Skye, the exact words he himself had said when Charlie had suggested a counselor might be a good strategy. The use of identical words opened a small conduit of empathy. Skye looked at Philip and for a moment he sensed that he might actually be in agony. It had not occurred to him until that minute what it would take for a guy to leave the wrestling team, given that, as far as he could tell, the guys on that team lived for their sport, and being deprived of it might make any guy’s life miserable. Skye wondered if Philip had been some kind of hot-shot recruit for the team.
“So why’d you leave the team?”

“Why dya think? I couldn’t keep my paws off some of the guys’ stuff. Kirk caught me going through lockers, confronted me, kinda gave me a beating just like you, and said he’d speak to the Coach. He did that, then I was called in to tell Coach. I confessed it all, man. Coach saw it was a problem and though he kept his anger to himself, I could tell. Next day, my name was gone from the posted list of team members. Fuck.”

Philip finished picking up Skye’s clothes and out of habit folded them in precisely the way he had the previous time, which was the telltale sign that he was the thief. “Here are your clothes.”

Skye took them, looked hard at the older student, and said, “I’m gonna take these with me to the shower so no thief takes ‘em. When I’m finished, I’m coming back here and if you’re still here, I’m gonna pound your face. Get some help, dude.”

He took the stacked clothes and left a naked, remorseful Philip sitting in front of his locker, but only for a moment. The threat seemed convincing, and Philip dressed rapidly and left the locker room.

Skye returned to the aisle and noted with satisfaction that Philip had gone. He was surprised at the vehemence of his feelings, especially given that, unlike so many of his friends, he actually tended to forgive perhaps a bit too easily. “Maybe I’m growing up,” he thought to himself as sat on the bench, unexpectedly fatigued

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 93. Follow-up.

Skye sat in the locker room aisle for a good deal longer than he intended. At first, his energy was high; he felt virile for having defended his own stuff, rather like a caveman who fights off an enemy. Inevitably, however, his anger subsided and be began to reflect on what had just happened. Though he liked the competition of wrestling, he equally liked, without really having thought much about it, the fact that wrestling was stylized violence; it wasn’t the real thing any more than “fights” between puppies as they explore each other's boundaries.

His righteous indignation began to wane and to be replaced by a certain sense of empathy. He wondered what it was like to be Philip… to be unable, as he claimed, to stop himself from taking stuff. Skye was scrupulously honest… or so he thought of himself… then it hit him that just a few weeks ago he himself had stolen some underwear. The self-knowledge that came with the revelation, “I swiped boxer briefs from the store where I’d just been hired” conjured a picture of shame. And not just shame; hypocrisy entered into the picture as well. There he was, furious that a guy he barely knew had tried to take his stuff while at the same time, Skye had robbed his employer, justifying it by the fact that it was “victimless.” He felt like he should march over right then and confess to Mr. Williams.

But he had also learned to take a little time for counsel before action, so he sat naked on the bench for a minute or two—a time during which a number of 30-something administrator types walked by and gave him an appreciative once-over—before he began to dress.

The word “counsel” seemed to insert itself in his thinking, and naturally, Kirk’s face popped into his mind. His mentor was his obvious choice, so he decided to head to Kirk’s dorm and talk to him.

He arrived at Kirk’s after a short walk, mounted the stairs, and knocked on the suite door. A moment later Avery opened it. He was wearing what looked to be a white sports brief. Though preoccupied, Skye did vaguely notice the clinginess of the brief’s pouch. It seemed that no personal crisis could quite overwhelm a guy’s natural tendency to assess both another guy’s body and his underwear. “Looks comfortable” flashed through his mind. Again, with only the vaguest awareness, he realized he knew very little about other guys’ underwear choices. He knew about jocks, pouch briefs, tighty whities, boxer briefs, and plain boxers, but he had never even thought about the more “Sophisticated” underwear choices, like Avery’s brief.

Kirk came out into the common area, saw in an instant that something was bothering Skye, and invited him into his room. As he closed the door, he murmured to Avery, who was lurking about, “No horsin’ around this time, man. Something’s bugging him.” Avery retired to his own room.

Kirk turned and asked “What’s up?”

Skye hesitated for a mere moment, then said, “I beat up Philip.”

“WHAT?!”
“Well, not beat up. I just kinda choked him with my towel for a second in the weight room locker room and then I slapped him.”

“What the fuck, Skye?”

“I caught him stealing my stuff, man!”

A pause. Then Kirk eased up a bit. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, yeah… I can see that… that was always his big problem. Shit, I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

“Don’t worry, man. He told me himself.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, naked on the locker room floor as I stood over him. I’d just caught him swiping my clothes while I was supposedly in the shower.”

“Everything?”

“Yup… and… well, this’ll sound weird but…”

“Oh fuck. He didn’t get his paws on your Coach jock, did he?”

“Sure as fuck did. That’s what really set me off.”

“Yeah, I get that. Well, yeah, the truth is a couple of years ago, he got caught stealing other team members’ stuff and I notified Coach, and they talked and then Philip was gone, like that.”

“Exactly what he told me."

“Wow. What an asshole. I’d have thought he might have gotten some help with that.”

“I guess not… but what do I do, man? What if he goes to the administration, or the police. I mean, I was pissed off, so I didn’t think about legal bullshit like… whatcha call it?”

“Assault?”

“Yeah. That. They can’t put me in jail for a 15-second attack, can they?”

Kirk looked at his mentoree, kindness in his eyes.

“Relax a little, Skye. I know you’re upset. I really don’t think a thief like Philip has the balls to go to the authorities to report you. He’d be admitting his own guilt.”

“Oh… yeah I guess I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Plus, to be honest, most guys would just consider this solved between them. No need to tattle. And didn’t he tell you the story of the team and what his problem was?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“I think if he felt you heard him, he might actually appreciate it and wouldn’t do anything further. I’ll bet he was scared at how angry you were. I’ve never seen you mad.”

“Well, now that we’re talking about it, I did ask him why he didn’t get some help, like a counselor. He didn’t want to, but I guess my asking maybe showed a little sympathy.”

“I’m sure it did and I’m sure he was grateful even if he couldn’t show it. Who else have you told?”


“No one.”

“Will you tell Charlie?”

“Of course, dude. He’ll have something to say about it.”

“For sure. Hey, why don’t you hang out here for a while and just relax? Charlie told me he’d taught you how to play poker the other day. Is that true?”

“Yeah, but I forget some of the rules.”

“No problem, buddy. Look, let’s get Avery and Jeff, my other roomie and play some cards out in the common room. That’ll help you relax. If you want, you could even tell them the story, though you probably don't want to since you don't know ‘em.”

“So you think I’ll be okay?” asked Skye anxiously.

“I do, man. This can’t be the biggest crisis you’ve ever faced.”

Skye considered past experiences on the Rez. Kirk was right.

“Gimme a hug, man,” said the senior. “Let it go.”

Skye leaned in and Kirk held him for a moment in his strong arms. Never had Skye been so grateful, except perhaps the night Charlie held him after his nightmare. In yet another comical moment Skye couldn’t help muttering, “You won’t believe this, but this is the first time since I got here that I’ve hugged a guy who wasn’t naked.” That set Kirk to laughing and Skye joined him.

They left Kirk’s room and he called his two roommates over and offered to set up a card game. They readily agreed, though the briefs-clad Avery said, “Well, is it gonna be strip poker? Cuz if it is, it’ll be a short game for me.” To emphasize his point, he glanced down and Skye and the others followed his gaze, and he tightened his muscles and they saw his not inconsiderable pouch bulge flex a few times, and all four of them laughed.

They sat on the dingy couch and a couple of chairs, pulled the table over, and Kirk started to deal.

Midway through the first hand, a knock on the door sounded.

“Open!” called Avery as he studied his hand. The door opened and the guys looked up.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 94 The High Road

Philip.

Skye was on his feet in a flash, with Kirk right beside him, his hand on the younger guy’s shoulder.

“What the fuck do you want?” said Skye, quivering. He felt a restraining pressure on his shoulder.

Philip merely looked at them with a face so rueful that it gave Skye pause. Philip looked from Skye to Kirk to the others and back. “I just wanted,” he said in a quiet voice, “to say something to Skye… and to Kirk if possible.”

His two subjects stared for a moment. “How did you even know I’d be here?” asked Skye suspiciously.

“I didn’t,”responded Philip. “I just thought it was possible. Can you guys just give me a couple of minutes…alone?”

Skye and Kirk looked at each other. The older student had learned over the years something about forgiveness, and even the relatively young Skye knew that most cultures and religions viewed forgiveness as a desirable, even required, behavior. After a pause, Kirk said, “Sure. Let’s go into my room.” Skye felt like muttering, “Better close your dresser drawers completely” but he thought better of it and just followed his mentor into his bedroom, Philip behind them. The latter shut the door once he was in the room. All three guys remained standing.

“Well?” said Skye.

“I came to apologize,” said Philip simply. “Well, not even to really ‘apologize.’ I came to ask…” He cleared his throat. “To ask forgiveness.”

The weightiness of that term struck both of the other guys. To apologize was one thing; “Sorry, bro” was for light offenses. But to ask forgiveness was something much more serious.

“For?” said Kirk, knowing from his training that explicitly naming the offense was part of the forgiveness process. He was not enjoying Philip’s discomfort, but he felt that it was a necessary stage for him if he really wanted forgiveness.

“I’ve been an asshole… and not just with Skye’s stuff… with the wrestling team two years ago. I would say what I said to Skye: that it felt like someone was taking over me. But I realize that’s lame-ass. I have a problem, and even though I told Skye a little while ago that I wouldn’t know what to say to a counselor here at the university, I decided after I left the locker room that I should at least try something. I don’t wanna be an asshole klepto my whole life.” He added in a small voice: “It sucks.”

Skye was still filled with hot wrath from having seen his clothes, especially the Coach jock, in Philip’s hands, but he himself had done things he was not proud of, and by nature he was discovering an increasing empathy in himself, no doubt the result of hanging around with the guys on the team and the dorm who were so at ease with themselves that they apparently found it simple not to get angry at much. This attitude had seeped into him over the past weeks.

“Well,” stumbled Skye, unsure what to say, “I guess that’s good.” Immediately, he felt self-conscious. What an immature way to phrase it.

Kirk, with the advantage of a few years and some training as a mentor, went further: “It’s certainly good. And to be honest, Philip, it’s something you should have done a long time ago. But… it’s better to at least take the step. I’m sure you know how pissed off the team was about what you did and how deeply disappointed Coach was….” Here, Philip winced as if he had been physically struck. “So….” continued Kirk, “better late than never. Have you already gone to the mental health center?”
Skye thought the title of this place, which to him still suggested some dreadful or even evil quality in a person, might anger Philip, but the latter merely said, “I’ve left a message. I’ll see someone on Monday.”

A pause ensued. Skye had seldom felt so ill at ease.

“One more step, then,” said Kirk. “I can’t speak for Skye, but I forgive you now for what you did on the team. I’ll consider it closed.”

Skye turned to look at his mentor. The sheer nobleness of Kirk’s simple answer—simple but perhaps the most profound thing Skye had everxf heard anyone say—seemed to offer him little choice. “Ok, dude. It’s all right,” he said to Philip. Kirk turned to him and said in a surprisingly serious tone, “No, that’s not enough, Skye. You have to say you forgive him.”

“Oh. Okay. I forg—“ The word stuck a little in his throat, catching him completely by surprise. With an effort, he managed, “I forgive you for stealing, or trying to steal, my jock and stuff.” The specificity with which he named his athletic supporter just reinforced to him how important that particular article of clothing was. He repeated, “I forgive you.”

In some mysterious way, the words themselves and the reflection they offered on the human soul— taking the high road of forgiveness on the basis that all of them had at some point or other done bad things—cleared the air and all three guys relaxed.

“Well,” said Philip after a few moments, “I guess I’ll go."

“Wait,” said Skye, and in that moment he himself had something of the experience Philip had described: a little “being” inserting itself in his psyche. “Do you… I mean… d’ya wanna stay and play a little poker? I mean, if it’s okay with Kirk and the other guys.”

Philip stared at him, his face graven with seriousness. His eyes brimmed just a little. He said nothing.

“Sure,” said Kirk. “That’s a good idea. Philip?”

Philip looked at both guys and whispered, “Do these guys know my… ya know… past?”

“They don’t,” said Kirk. “They know nothing at all about you.”

“Well…. Ok then.. yeah. I’ll stay. Thanks. That’s a pretty cool gesture.”

Both wrestlers forced a smile, as sincere as they could make it under the circumstances. “Ok,” said Kirk, opening the door. “Hey Avery, Philip here’s gonna join us. We’ll have to have a new deal.”

Kirk introduced the other guys to Philip and they all sat down to play.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch 95 Recap

The poker game went on for about an hour, all laughs, teasing, relaxation. Avery and Jeff were either perspicacious enough to know not to ask about this unknown stranger in their midst, or clueless enough that it didn’t occur to them to ask. In any event, the guys had a good time just hanging out with the cards. Skye noticed that Avery made enough joking references to strip poker and the fact that he was in only his sports brief that Skye began to wonder if Avery actually wanted the game to progress to that level. But it was never quite clear how much he was joking, and nothing came of it.

The game had run its course and it was near dinner time, so Kirk suggested they knock off and maybe go for a pizza. This troubled Skye a little; he had been able to accept Philip’s presence while there was the specific activity of the game going on, but he still didn’t want to hang around Philip any more than necessary, so it was a relief when Philip answered, “Thanks. I can’t. I gotta do something else.”

The other guys accepted this and Philip rose, readjusted his shirt, and said, “Thanks a lot, guys. I’ll see you around.” To Skye and Kirk, this sounded like a disguised final good-bye. To the others, without knowledge of the conversation in Kirk’s room, it sounded like a standard “Later” departure.

Skye felt like a million bucks. The mysterious relief that came with forgiveness, the “bro” style poker game, pizza with the guys, teasing, unconscious cock-adjusting, feeling affirmed by other guys—all seemed to soothe out the whole theft situation.

After dinner the guys walked over to the student union and played pool and foosball till just before midnight, and Skye parted ways with them and returned to his dorm.

As he entered the hallway from the stairs, he saw Chris leaving Charlie and Skye’s room, clad in tighty whities. Skye couldn’t help rolling his eyes; he supposed Chris had been in their room bragging about his sex life to Charlie. Skye wished he had entered the hall just half a minute later so he didn't run into the briefs-sex champion of the world, but Chris spotted him. Skye braced himself for another whoop followed by Chris’s usual “Oh fuck yeah! Got so laid!’ but surprisingly, Chris just groped his underwear bulge, winked at Skye, and went back to his room.

As Skye entered his own room, he asked his naked roommate, “What did Chris want?”

Charlie just looked at him and cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh,” concluded Skye. “That's what I figured. Any new developments with his girlfriend that we can't live without knowing?”

“Actually, yeah. He said his girlfriend might be open to a three-way. Can you believe that? He didn't specify MFF or MMF. “

“What’s that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Male-Female-Female and…”

Skye’s mind reeled a little. “Wow, she said she’d do that?”

“Not exactly. He just thinks she might. I guess she said something. And obviously MMF stands for…”

“I got it, man.”

“Ok. Just checkin’.” Charlie grinned. “What’d you do today?”

“Oh man. You won’t fucking believe it.” He recounted the afternoon’s events from the fight in the locker room to the reconciliation in Kirk’s dorm. Charlie listened with his usual “therapist’s ear.”

When Skye had concluded, Charlie remarked, “Fucking amazing. All of it. I can’t believe you got in a fight, and I really can’t believe he showed up to apologize… sorry, ask forgiveness, and I really, really can’t believe you guys worked it out and then played poker. This is one for your memoirs, buddy.”

“Yup. I’ll get right on that,” said Skye. “But yeah, I’ve never gone through anything like that. It felt kinda weird but kinda right to forgive that bastard, but I hope I don’t have to see him again.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“Oh!” said Skye abruptly. “And guess what! You know that kid Matt who got all that grief from the other guy about his tighty whites?”

“Oh yeah. What about him?”

“I saw both him and the guy that razzed him—named Mason—at Bob’s just after noon.”

“Oh fuck. There wasn’t trouble in the changing room, was there?”

“No! Just the opposite. I hate to blow up your ego any more but you were 100% on target with your theory. Matt told me—pretty quickly cuz Mason wasn’t far away—that Mason’s dad actually does check the poor guy’s underwear before he leaves and when he returns, just like you figured. I don’t know how the fuck you knew that. I mean, you’ve never even seen these guys.”

“I told you; I’m a fucking genius… Actually, if you recall, you figured out some of that on your own….well, with a few guiding questions from me.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. I guess I’m a fucking genius too.”

“Well, maybe a genius. I think the epithet “fucking genius” should be reserved for the upper echelon of psych’s like me.”


This use of fancy words reminded Skye of what a formidable intellect his roommate had. Next moment, though, he brought him back to earth.

“I guess even fucking geniuses can’t control their dicks. Jesus, man. You horny cuz of Chris? Or this conversation?… or maybe just the presence of a guy as gorgeous as me?” Skye laughed at his own joke, and both guys stared at Charlie’s cock, which, for unknown reasons, had started to stiffen.

“Like you’ve never seen that before,” smirked Charlie.

“Well, only in the mornings when I’m half-asleep. Looks a lot bigger when I can’t see clearly.”

Charlie flicked his wrist at lightning speed and sent a stack of index cards from his desk into Skye’s chest. “Bull’s-eye!” he yelled.

“More like bull shit.”

“Or bull-dick” countered Charlie, giving his hard-on a yank or two. “I think I’d better take care of this. Maybe I’ll emulate our pal Wells and beat off in the shower. Think that’d be okay with everyone?”

“Since when do you care? But I’m going to the bathroom to brush my teeth and stuff, so I’ll be your body guard if you think you need one.”

“With a body like mine, I certainly do, but with a weapon like mine, I certainly don’t. See you there.” Charlie grinned as a thought occurred to him. He grabbed his shaving kit by the loop that was fastened to one end and quickly slipped it over his erection. Though the kit contained various items, apparently they were no match for the iron girder that jutted from his crotch, and the kit merely hung by the loop from about the middle of his shaft. “There,” said Charlie, “that should ward off any attacks.” He laughed, and Skye did as well, and headed out the door, erection in the lead.

One guy emerged from his room two doors down, took one look at Charlie’s set-up, snorted once and quipped, “Nice bag.”Charlie grinned and headed into the bathroom.

He was already in the shower when Skye walked in, and it was obvious that he was enjoying himself. Yet again, Skye marveled both at the openness of the guys in this dorm and at how quickly he himself had adjusted to the social expectations there. He brushed his teeth and washed his face, took a piss, and headed back to the room. He had just removed his boxer briefs and stood naked by his bed when Charlie returned.

“Feeling better?” queried Skye somewhat wryly.

“Always. You should try it. Oh wait, you do… just not in the shower… yet.”

“Asshole,” laughed Skye

“In all seriousness, though,” answered Charlie, “this sounds like today was kind of memorable.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

“Cool. G’night, studly. Don’t forget to keep your paws off your dong.”

Skye said nothing. His penis was about to do all the talking.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch 96: Routine

Life settled down to a routine over the next couple of months: morning wood, half-naked guys with erections in the bathroom, classes, work at the bookstore, practices. Skye felt he was improving rapidly on the team, and he adopted the habit of wrestling guys 20-30 lbs heavier than him at the end of practice, figuring if he could at least hold his own with them, then he’d have the advantage in his own weight class. Coach was sparing in his compliments, so when he offered even the slightest affirmation of Skye’s technique, the young man felt elated, which in turn spurred him on to more practice victories. He made sure to wear Coach’s jock every day.

The Three Stooges had offered a few more ridiculous shenanigans over the weeks, but as the official wrestling season began, even they ran out of energy and ideas. Brad reassured everyone that after the season, when they had post-season practices, he and his pals would have cooked up something.


Skye’s confidence continued to rise though occasionally it was undercut by the recurring, troublesome demon of an absent father. He did not have any more violently imagistic and disturbing dreams, but sometimes a phrase, or the appearance of a father and son touring the campus, or even a movie poster in town would trigger a deep sadness in him. Charlie, sensitive as always, asked occasionally about this, reminding Skye that the best way to approach these psychic matters was to keep the image clearly in front of him and not try to banish it to the back of his mind. Skye was grateful for this kind of thoughtfulness, and he began to feel he was starting to move beyond the weakness such images sometimes induced in him.

Skye was pleasantly surprised at his academic successes as well. Though not a top-flight student, he had become aware of important aspects about his own process of learning, and he even occasionally availed himself of the offer from Ethan or Charlie, though the Native insisted on wearing clothes in any tutoring sessions. He began to realize that he had the raw material to succeed in many areas; he just needed some guidance and structure.

He had even managed to have a quick conversation or two with Maria before and after class, and though he was still cognizant of her charms, his penis was simply not intrigued as it had once been. The only quiver of interest occurred in the middle of Spanish class activities when Maria was in another group. Instead of paying attention, Skye, thinking back to Chris’s remarks, found himself wondering idly what a three-way with him, Maria, and the other person in the group might be like. His cock perked up a little at that image, but there wasn’t time to indulge the fantasy. At any rate, it wasn’t anything close to the ravenous hunger his penis had shown in the early weeks of the term.

The wrestling season progressed, and Skye enjoyed seeing the older guys compete. He tried to learn what techniques he could simply from observing, and he often managed to incorporate these into his own game. Even the Coach noticed and gave a smile and a nod.

Although a gifted athlete, Skye was not the only talented wrestler in his weight class across the state or region. Most of his bouts ended with the referee holding up Skye’s arm, while he and his opponents both breathed heavily, one in triumph, the other in disappointment. However, he did not win every bout, and when he lost he felt devastated. His desire to establish some kind of power in his life, his urgency at showing his teammates that he was a winner, and his deep-rooted, agonizing need to avoid disappointing Coach, kept him razor-sharp. Fortunately, his teammates all knew what it was to lose a bout, and they were able to console him.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 97 Thanksgiving

Winter rolled along. At times there were blizzards; at other times merely freezing temperatures. Skye was grateful he had earned enough money to buy that coat at Bob’s. The fact that it was his own money somehow made the coat feel that much warmer, or at least that’s how Skye imagined it.

Thanksgiving break arrived, and Skye felt the dilemma between returning to the Rez as expected and a kind offer from Kirk to go to his house for the holiday. Despite his gratitude for his grandmother’s care—the only consistent care he had known growing up—he couldn’t bring himself to turn down Kirk’s invitation. He did not perhaps realize how often Kirk fulfilled the quasi-paternal role that Skye needed, even if his mentor was only a few years older. The pull towards him was too strong for Skye, and he had to make a painful phone call to his grandmother, who accepted the situation resignedly. It wasn’t her first disappointment.

Skye enjoyed his few days at Kirk’s house, sleeping in one of the twin beds in his childhood room, admiring his trophies from junior high and high school, feeling a not insignificant amount of benign jealousy at Kirk’s advantages even as he admired the senior’s modest attitude. They spent plenty of time naked, going to the shower, changing in front of each other, and even hanging out nude for a few minutes just shooting the breeze. Of course, Skye had seen Kirk naked many, many times, but there was an undeniable intimacy seeing him in his bedroom. Kirk made only the most oblique references to puberty, but Skye was able to infer his meaning, and occasionally he wondered which bed Kirk beat off in as he was growing up. He even envisioned Kirk jacking his hard teenage cock in bed while sixty miles away, Skye was doing the same. Somehow, the image made him feel closer to the guy he admired so much.

The most significant conversation occurred when both boys were in their beds, naked as usual, and Skye asked, “Hey, Kirk. You remember when I had to go into Coach’s office to get a jock to replace the one that broke?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you ever go into his office around that time?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I just noticed those movable screens and, well, I probably shouldn’t have but…”

“But what?”

“I snooped a little behind them and saw photos on his desk.”

“So?”

“So it dawned on me,” continued the freshman, “that there were only women in his photos… besides him, I mean. Any idea about that?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the story?”

“I only know that Coach had no father growing up. That’s all he ever said about it, and he only said it once to me.”

Skye expected this news to make his head reel, but apparently, since he had already speculated that that might be the case, he was able to absorb it with a laconic, “Huh.”

“I wondered if that was why.”

“Yup. It was painful for him. I think you know what that’s like.”

A silence.

“So then,” resumed Skye, “what was with the cot and the dressers and stuff in his office?”

“Well, maybe I shouldn’t tell you. It’s his personal story. But I can tell he has taken a liking to you and probably wouldn’t mind. Coach had to divorce his wife.”

“Oh fuck. That sucks.”

“Yeah. He said almost nothing about it. You know he’s a man of few words. He just said to me a while back, ‘I’m going to be moving into my office for a while. Can’t stay in a house with that woman.’ That was that. I guess he just eats at restaurants and showers at the gym and just lives there. I think that’s why the team means so much to him.”

“Gotta be that.” Skye lay back in silence, hands behind his head on the pillow, and contemplated the world of complicated relationships, damage done between people, the inexplicable intermingling of good and bad fortune. Strangely, the emotional cover that wrapped him up felt less like pain than like the mere weight of philosophical reflection, though he wouldn’t have called it that. That “intermingling” showed up at the next moment when, in the midst of contemplation, his impatient penis started to rise and make demands. It never stopped, this urgency. Skye gave up thinking, took his penis in his right hand, his balls in his left, and, with knees crooked, started a slow masturbation session. He had grown so used to this ritual with Charlie in the room that he never even gave it a thought. It wasn’t until he and Kirk were driving back to campus that Sunday that Skye realized that Kirk had undoubtedly done the same in his bed. He almost brought it up, feeling like such topics were long past taboo, but he chose to leave it alone this time.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch 98: Changes and opportunities.

School and practices resumed with their normal schedules, but Skye could feel the team’s intensity growing with each practice. They were focused on winning. Curiously, Skye felt, though he couldn’t have supported the observation with hard evidence, that more and more guys on the team were having trouble controlling their cocks in the showers. Brian, of course, continued to be the flagship of erections, as he had been for years, but some of the other guys got semi’s at least and every couple of days full-on boners made uninvited appearances. The guys on the team said nothing to each other about this. Skye assumed it was the norm as the season hastened along.

In December, Coach called all the freshmen together at the end of practice.

“I have an announcement,” he said. “The NCAA has had some leadership changes and want to initiate a new program for freshmen. This would be a trial year for it, but they’re hoping it’ll increase support for wrestling across the nation.

“It’s pretty simple. There’ll be a kind of modified National Championship just for Freshmen wrestlers in a variety of weight classes. All colleges are eligible, but to make it manageable, there’ll be some qualifying pre-championships matches beginning in February. The finals will be in March, and I talked our administration into hosting them here.”

He named off the freshmen wrestlers and their respective weight classes. Skye was the heaviest, which everyone already knew anyway. The idea of a National Championship on his home turf took his breath away, and he resolved to work like a dog to make himself as strong as possible.

“The format will be over three days.” continued Coach. The first and second days, you’ll have eight bouts each. On the third day, based on win-loss records from the days before, they’ll take the top four and do a direct elimination. Any questions?”

The Coach responded to the handful of questions and then exhorted the team to get to work.

 

[Opinionman]

Ch. 99 Championships

As often happens with deadlines, time raced rapidly through the weeks. Skye returned to the Rez for the Christmas holiday and he was glad to see his grandmother. Some of the younger guys had followed his wrestling stats and they formed a kind of coterie around him, like young puppies. He enjoyed this, of course, and was grateful to have Kirk as a model of how to set an example for younger guys.

He returned to campus in January, and buried himself in his work and training. When he lifted his head, so to speak, he found himself just a week away from the first qualifying tournaments. Though the word “qualifying” might have been considered daunting, after the first tournament Skye realized his skills were at a much higher level than those of the guys he had faced. He did not know if this would continue, but it certainly made him confident.

Although the regular NCAA Championships were also occurring in March, it was a sign of the team’s closeness that even the upperclassmen were focused on the freshmen results.

The day of the tournament arrived, and before he knew it, Skye found himself engaged in eight bouts over the course of the morning and afternoon. The team, of course, cheered on all the freshmen, but they seemed to provide an extra boost for Skye. He surprised himself by romping over his opponents that first day, winning all eight bouts easily. Coach praised him briefly but also said, “There’s always danger in easy victory. Keep yourself focused so you’re ready for the hard ones.”

The next day Skye won the first six bouts but inexplicably, lost concentration in his final two, succumbing to talented wrestlers from the University of Nebraska and Penn State. He was dismayed at this, but felt calmed down once Coach said, “This is what I meant. I’m actually glad you lost those because it will toughen you up. It just means that instead of being the top seed, you’ll be the third seed. None of that really matters; you have to take down your opponent regardless of whatever number is next to his name on the score sheet.” Skye tried to shake off the loss. Certainly, he had never had an audience anywhere near this size watch his matches; perhaps he was distracted by faces in the crowd.

On the final day, Skye had a very tough bout with a University of Nevada wrestler and he barely escaped with a one-point margin win. That really set him on the brink of success; he was hungry for victory.

The atmosphere for the Championship bout crackled with energy. Skye’s opponent, from the University of Idaho, was a few inches shorter than he was, but also somewhat more solid. He appeared, like Skye, to be at the top of the 197-lb weight class. This was not someone Skye would be able to toss around like a rag doll.

Skye stood on the edge of the mat, waiting to be called for the official bout-starting handshake. Absent-mindedly, he reached inside the waist of his singlet and straightened out the slightly folded waistband of the Coach jockstrap, so crucial to his success. This brief intimate ritual moment indicated to his psyche that he was ready for the final battle.

The bout began and neither of the two men could gain an advantage. Hands gripped, but bodies evaded. Swipes at legs came to naught. When one of them created a position that earned him two points, in the next moment, his opponent did the same. The points accumulated neck-and-neck.

Near the end of the final period, it seemed there would have to be overtime, but then a groan emerged from the USD team; Skye’s opponent had suddenly wrapped him up in a complex hold from behind, and it looked as if he were going to pin the Native American. For just a moment, Skye panicked, but suddenly he recalled when Coach had had him in a similar grip in his practice demonstration the day Skye had walked out. What had he done to escape such a dominant position? He hardly remembered, given that it was an instinctual response at the time. His muscle memory, however, did not desert him. In a moment, he went completely limp. His opponent did not expect this sudden flaccidity and, fatally, he hesitated, just for the blink of an eye. In that interval, Skye slipped out of the hold like a rapid-fire Houdini, just as he had in the demonstration, and flipped himself around. Before the Idaho wrestler knew it, he was occupying the same position as Skye had just moments before. Then, recalling Coach’s explanation of the Step-thru Turk, Skye entwined his legs with the other wrestler’s, twisted his own hips, and found himself masterfully on top of his opponent. At that moment, it seemed to him that all the strength of generations of past ancestors landed on his muscled back, and like a boulder, he crushed his opponent’s shoulders to the mat beneath him. There was no hope of escape for the Idaho wrestler. The referee was lying chest-down on the mat, looking to verify the position, but all three men knew the bout was over.

With the whistle’s piercing shriek came the uproar. Skye let out one huge cry of victory and then stood silent, taking it all in. As he had sometimes seen in the movies, time slowed down. The “camera” of his eyes panned the crowd, but all sounds were muted by his concentration. In slow motion, he saw Kirk and all the guys from the team, his dorm buddies Charlie and Chris, Mr. Williams, even Matt and Mason. As he continued his visual sweep, his eyes landed on Coach, who gave a faint and knowing smile that sent a clear message: Proud of you. Then, curiously, Coach lifted his gaze just a touch and looked over Skye’s shoulder at the crowd behind him. Though the movement was barely perceptible, Skye caught it and, almost without knowing, he turned and looked in the stands. A man. Chestnut skin. Overtones of red. Square jaw. Raven hair. Gray eyes.

And Skye knew.

He knew.


The End.