I’ll be honest, my heart skipped a beat when Brent gave me the biggest bear hug as I stepped out of the taxi.
“Man, it is so good to see you,” said Brent, beaming. “It means so much that you came all the way here.”
“I am happy to be here,” I said, and I really was. “I couldn’t let you celebrate Thanksgiving all alone in your dorm.
Brent and I were best buds since middle school. We did everything together: studied together, partied together, worked out together, confided in each other. It was hard when he left for college in September. But now, after months of being apart, we were going to spend the long weekend together on his college campus.
“Come with me, I will show you my room,” said Brent as he led the way. “Wait. Where are your bags?”
“Don’t get me started,” I said, sighing. “Bullshit with the Greyhound. When they dropped me off at the station, they couldn’t find my bags. They are gonna try to track them down but who knows when I’ll get my shit.”
“That sucks bud, but don’t let that dampen your mood. We’ll figure something out,” said Brent.
We walked into Brent’s dorm building. It was like a ghost town.
“Where is everybody?” I asked.
“All gone back to their families,” said Brent. “Who needs them anyway. We’ll make our own fun. The college gym is open, there is a great pizza joint in town, and my dorm has a pool table.”
“What about beer?” I asked.
“There is plenty of beer, bud!” said Brent, throwing his arm around my shoulder as we walked down the dorm hall.
“Here we are,” said Brent as he swung open his dorm room. It was nothing special. A small room with white walls containing a single bed, a desk, a wardrobe cabinet and a small fridge. On his walls were some photos tacked up, include that pic of us in the locker room after the final rugby match. We were shirtless, covered in mud, and grinning from ear-to-ear. I leaned over to examine it.
“Wasn’t that the best fucking day,” said Brent.
“Damn right,” I said. “And somehow, I feel dirtier after my 8 hours on the Greyhound than I did after that match.”
“Hit the showers, man,” said Brent. “We passed the shower room at the top of my hall.” He threw a towel my way.
After a quick rinse I was feeling better. I wrapped the towel around my waist, made my way down the hall and stepped back into Brent’s dorm room still dripping with some water.
“I knew it!” said Brent excitedly.
“What?”
“When I gave that hug, I knew you got jacked. Look at your fucking chest.”
I tried not to smile. “You mean this?” I said as I flexed by pecs before lifting my arms to give a classic Adonis pose. In all my showmanship my towel slipped off my waist and I grabbed it quickly, laughing. I was happy Brent had noticed. I had been stepping up my gym game since he left. Less socializing had meant more time to lift and I was adding muscle fast.
“What are you benching now?” asked Brent.
“You answer first” I said, chuckling. We were always competitive like that. I was faster on the track than Brent, but he could lift more. I was hopeful I had finally caught up to his size and strength.
“Uh, bud – can you spot me some clothes?” I asked. Without my luggage, I was stuck.
“Of course,” said Brent throwing me a tshit and pair of jeans from his wardrobe.
“I’ll need boxers too,” I said, rather sheepishly.
Brent returned to his wardrobe and he passed me something. I stared at it in my hand.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Briefs, bud. Go ahead, put them on.”
“What about boxers, do you have any boxers?” I asked. I had spent my whole life in boxers and I thought Brent did too.
“I’m a college man now. College girls don’t want a man in baggy boxers.”
I stared at the briefs in my hand: Calvin Klein white hip briefs. It seemed like some much less material than what I was used to wearing.
“When in Rome…” I said as I stepped into the briefs and slipped them up over my ass and junk. I tossed my towel onto the desk chair.
“See,” said Brent. “Total upgrade. You just manned-up.”
I stood there taking it in. Something about having my junk supported by the pouch of the briefs made me self-conscious, like my package was somehow on display. And although I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, there was something exciting about knowing Brent’s junk was once in these briefs, although I quickly tried to push that thought out of my mind.
“Okay bud, lets go grab some pizza,” said Brent, interrupting my temporary trance. I finished getting dressed. “Damn bro, don’t stretch my clothes with that new body of yours,” said Brent and he patted my chest through the t-shirt. Something about that comment made my dick flinch but I ignored it as we headed out of his room.
....more to come.
“Man, it is so good to see you,” said Brent, beaming. “It means so much that you came all the way here.”
“I am happy to be here,” I said, and I really was. “I couldn’t let you celebrate Thanksgiving all alone in your dorm.
Brent and I were best buds since middle school. We did everything together: studied together, partied together, worked out together, confided in each other. It was hard when he left for college in September. But now, after months of being apart, we were going to spend the long weekend together on his college campus.
“Come with me, I will show you my room,” said Brent as he led the way. “Wait. Where are your bags?”
“Don’t get me started,” I said, sighing. “Bullshit with the Greyhound. When they dropped me off at the station, they couldn’t find my bags. They are gonna try to track them down but who knows when I’ll get my shit.”
“That sucks bud, but don’t let that dampen your mood. We’ll figure something out,” said Brent.
We walked into Brent’s dorm building. It was like a ghost town.
“Where is everybody?” I asked.
“All gone back to their families,” said Brent. “Who needs them anyway. We’ll make our own fun. The college gym is open, there is a great pizza joint in town, and my dorm has a pool table.”
“What about beer?” I asked.
“There is plenty of beer, bud!” said Brent, throwing his arm around my shoulder as we walked down the dorm hall.
“Here we are,” said Brent as he swung open his dorm room. It was nothing special. A small room with white walls containing a single bed, a desk, a wardrobe cabinet and a small fridge. On his walls were some photos tacked up, include that pic of us in the locker room after the final rugby match. We were shirtless, covered in mud, and grinning from ear-to-ear. I leaned over to examine it.
“Wasn’t that the best fucking day,” said Brent.
“Damn right,” I said. “And somehow, I feel dirtier after my 8 hours on the Greyhound than I did after that match.”
“Hit the showers, man,” said Brent. “We passed the shower room at the top of my hall.” He threw a towel my way.
After a quick rinse I was feeling better. I wrapped the towel around my waist, made my way down the hall and stepped back into Brent’s dorm room still dripping with some water.
“I knew it!” said Brent excitedly.
“What?”
“When I gave that hug, I knew you got jacked. Look at your fucking chest.”
I tried not to smile. “You mean this?” I said as I flexed by pecs before lifting my arms to give a classic Adonis pose. In all my showmanship my towel slipped off my waist and I grabbed it quickly, laughing. I was happy Brent had noticed. I had been stepping up my gym game since he left. Less socializing had meant more time to lift and I was adding muscle fast.
“What are you benching now?” asked Brent.
“You answer first” I said, chuckling. We were always competitive like that. I was faster on the track than Brent, but he could lift more. I was hopeful I had finally caught up to his size and strength.
“Uh, bud – can you spot me some clothes?” I asked. Without my luggage, I was stuck.
“Of course,” said Brent throwing me a tshit and pair of jeans from his wardrobe.
“I’ll need boxers too,” I said, rather sheepishly.
Brent returned to his wardrobe and he passed me something. I stared at it in my hand.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Briefs, bud. Go ahead, put them on.”
“What about boxers, do you have any boxers?” I asked. I had spent my whole life in boxers and I thought Brent did too.
“I’m a college man now. College girls don’t want a man in baggy boxers.”
I stared at the briefs in my hand: Calvin Klein white hip briefs. It seemed like some much less material than what I was used to wearing.
“When in Rome…” I said as I stepped into the briefs and slipped them up over my ass and junk. I tossed my towel onto the desk chair.
“See,” said Brent. “Total upgrade. You just manned-up.”
I stood there taking it in. Something about having my junk supported by the pouch of the briefs made me self-conscious, like my package was somehow on display. And although I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, there was something exciting about knowing Brent’s junk was once in these briefs, although I quickly tried to push that thought out of my mind.
“Okay bud, lets go grab some pizza,” said Brent, interrupting my temporary trance. I finished getting dressed. “Damn bro, don’t stretch my clothes with that new body of yours,” said Brent and he patted my chest through the t-shirt. Something about that comment made my dick flinch but I ignored it as we headed out of his room.
....more to come.