Native American first exposure to college wrestling
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Ch. 76 A break
Skye spent the rest of the afternoon in the library, at the table where he’d first studied some days before. He saw no one he knew, though he thought he’d caught a glimpse of Philip, the guy from the weight room, some distance down the hallway of the study area. That sight set him thinking of the odd adventure of his missing clothes and Philip’s slightly strange behavior at the time. He tried to dismiss it from his mind and returned to math and writing work for the next day’s class. He couldn’t help feeling a little proud that he’d managed pretty well so far in his courses, even though he knew things might get harder as subjects and learning became more advanced. Every so often, without even realizing it, he did what every guy in the library did: adjusted his cock and balls in his underwear. When he did catch himself, he smiled a little, thinking two things. First, if Charlie had been there, he might adjust himself, but it wouldn’t be in his underwear since he always went commando. In fact, now that he thought of it, Skye realized that if a guy had no underwear on under his jeans, his balls would basically float around and he wouldn’t have to adjust so much. Skye had never considered this, and he imagined himself for a moment or two going naked under his jeans. The idea didn’t seem as strange as it once had, and his cock agreed, starting to lengthen and thicken at the mere image of his equipment free-floating and the idea of other people not knowing he was commando. That last idea suddenly seemed very sexy.
Second, he was, after all, wearing two pairs of underwear at that moment—the very antithesis of going commando. He had to admit, of course, that his new underwear felt really great, and even two pairs felt kinda hot; it made him aware of his sexual potency. Again, the idea that people didn’t know he had this little secret, right there at the study table, made his penis react. He idly hoped he wouldn’t meet Maria as he had that other day.
He finished studying and headed over to practice. He entered the locker room and saw Kirk at his locker, as usual. He had just stripped to his boxer briefs when Skye arrived.
“Hey, buddy,” said the older student. “Any Maria sightings?” He grinned mischievously.
Skye’s penis stirred at the name but he merely said,“Nah… but I was thinking… I don’t think I need to double-jock any more. I think I can keep it under control.”
“You sure? It’s no problem. And anyway, why do you think that now?”
“Not sure… it just seems like it’ll be ok. I mean, I’m still double underweared from this morning and I think that’s trained my boys to behave…”
“Well, okay,” returned Kirk dubiously. “I guess if that’s what you think. I just don’t want you to start jizzing or something in practice. It’s happened before, as I told you.”
“Yeah, I know, but every instinct is telling me I can go back to normal.”
“All right then, whyncha gimme back my jock?”
“Sure.” Skye rummaged in his locker and tossed Kirk’s worn jockstrap to him. “Thanks for looking out for me, man.”
“You bet. That’s what mentors do, ya know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Skye stripped down to his two pairs of underwear. Kirk glanced at him but said nothing, and Skye pulled off both pairs and stood, cock and balls hanging. At that point, Kirk couldn’t help looking just a tad longer. He had, of course, now seen Skye naked many times, but he still couldn’t help an inaudible whistle of admiration for the beauty of Skye’s penis, the graceful hang of his testicles, and the over all presence they created, rather like a celebrity or royalty showing up at an important affair. Skye grabbed his own jock, pulled it on and adjusted it, remembering for the briefest of moments the first day in the locker room when Kirk had reached out to untwist his leg strap, and then pulled on his shirt. He poked around for his shorts and again Kirk looked at him appreciatively. He had to admit to himself that his young charge looked kinda hot in just a shirt and jockstrap.
Skye finished dressing and the two of them, along with the other guys, headed to the practice mat.
Practice proceeded with the usual routine of stretches, technical matters, demo’s and so forth. Everything was going well for Skye; his moves were silky smooth, his strength was instantly at his beck and call, and for fun at the break, he even did a quick “match” with someone well above his weight class, just to get a sense of what it was like. He felt he held his own reasonably well for someone of his size and experience.
Kirk complimented him, as did David. The latter’s presence reminded Skye that Kirk was going to investigate how things went with that other condom-wearing dude. Skye figured that would be an interesting story.
Practice resumed and just as Skye was flipping himself out of a lower position, something went wrong in his shorts. For a nanosecond, Skye didn’t know what had happened, but suddenly he felt his scrotum flop out the leg of his shorts and he realized he was no longer supported or bound by the jockstrap pouch. His jock leg strap had come apart from the waistband.
He was unsure for a moment about what to do. His opponent hadn’t quite figured out the situation either, of course, but he could tell there had been some kind of malfunction and so he stopped. “What’s up, bro?” he asked as he stood up and backed away a step.
“Um…”. Skye’s face reddened. “Uh, looks like maybe … uh… my jock leg strap broke?” The other guy looked at him for just a moment and then laughed. “Ha! That’s gotta suck. You okay? I didn’t grab your huge balls or anything?” He winked.
Skye smiled. “Nah.”
His partner just grinned. “Better take care of that, bro.”
“Uh, yeah,” said Skye. “I guess I’d better ask…”
At that moment the Coach, famous for seeing everything, interrupted: “Skye, you got a broken strap?”
“Yes sir. Dunno why it happened now.”
“No one ever knows why that happens. It just does some time. I have some extra jocks in my office, in that cardboard box in the corner. Just go grab one.”
“Okay, Coach… but I could borrow one from Kirk. He gave me his extra last week and…”
“Yes, I know, but I’m guessing you’re not double strapped today like last time and my office is just right there. I’m sure you can find one that fits. Off ya go.”
“Okay, Coach,” said Skye and he trotted over the mat to the Coach’s office. No longer contained, his cock and balls bounced noticeably as he did this, and a few of the guys chuckled. One even muttered to his teammate, “I just hope that box of jocks has one with a big enough pouch. You seen that guy’s equipment?”
“Yup,” his friend replied. “Let’s hope so.”
Skye walked into Coach’s office and immediately spotted the medium sized cardboard box in the corner. It contained a few folded shirts and some shorts and a large number of jockstraps. Skye grabbed a few and inspected each for size. He found one that seemed like a good fit, stripped off his shorts and unusable jockstrap, and pulled on the one from the box. The pouch seemed to fit perfectly and he made a few adjustments. In the process, he did not notice the word written in black Sharpie on the back of the waistband; “Coach.”
Skye then pulled his shorts back on. He was unsure what to do with the broken jock. His entire life experience on the Rez told him that you never throw away anything that might be useful. He wondered for a moment if he could sew the leg strap back onto the waistband, but he also knew he was clumsy with needle and thread. Besides, if the guys caught him sewing a jock, they’d probably make fun of him. The image of his grandma using her not inconsiderable sewing skills popped into his mind, but even he laughed at the idea of approaching her back on the Rez when he returned there for school break: “Uh, Grandma, could you sew this back?”
“Sure, Skye. What is this anyway?” Skye’s scenario stopped right there; it would be impossible to explain an athletic supporter to his grandmother.
He emerged from his reverie and just kept the broken jock in his hand. Once he was back on the mat, he wasn’t sure what to do so he said to Kirk in low tones, “Dude, what should I do with this?” Kirk looked at him and said, “You could throw it in the trash bin.”
Skye saw the obvious sense in this suggestion but, oddly, he found he didn’t want to. This was his first jockstrap, and some sentimental force in him pushed him to resist. “Uh… ok… Maybe… I could just leave it here on the bench, tho.”
Kirk looked at him, puzzled, but he was quick to sense certain things and realized that Skye had the same attachment to his first jock that many college athletes feel, so he just nodded. They returned to practice.
Skye spent the rest of the afternoon in the library, at the table where he’d first studied some days before. He saw no one he knew, though he thought he’d caught a glimpse of Philip, the guy from the weight room, some distance down the hallway of the study area. That sight set him thinking of the odd adventure of his missing clothes and Philip’s slightly strange behavior at the time. He tried to dismiss it from his mind and returned to math and writing work for the next day’s class. He couldn’t help feeling a little proud that he’d managed pretty well so far in his courses, even though he knew things might get harder as subjects and learning became more advanced. Every so often, without even realizing it, he did what every guy in the library did: adjusted his cock and balls in his underwear. When he did catch himself, he smiled a little, thinking two things. First, if Charlie had been there, he might adjust himself, but it wouldn’t be in his underwear since he always went commando. In fact, now that he thought of it, Skye realized that if a guy had no underwear on under his jeans, his balls would basically float around and he wouldn’t have to adjust so much. Skye had never considered this, and he imagined himself for a moment or two going naked under his jeans. The idea didn’t seem as strange as it once had, and his cock agreed, starting to lengthen and thicken at the mere image of his equipment free-floating and the idea of other people not knowing he was commando. That last idea suddenly seemed very sexy.
Second, he was, after all, wearing two pairs of underwear at that moment—the very antithesis of going commando. He had to admit, of course, that his new underwear felt really great, and even two pairs felt kinda hot; it made him aware of his sexual potency. Again, the idea that people didn’t know he had this little secret, right there at the study table, made his penis react. He idly hoped he wouldn’t meet Maria as he had that other day.
He finished studying and headed over to practice. He entered the locker room and saw Kirk at his locker, as usual. He had just stripped to his boxer briefs when Skye arrived.
“Hey, buddy,” said the older student. “Any Maria sightings?” He grinned mischievously.
Skye’s penis stirred at the name but he merely said,“Nah… but I was thinking… I don’t think I need to double-jock any more. I think I can keep it under control.”
“You sure? It’s no problem. And anyway, why do you think that now?”
“Not sure… it just seems like it’ll be ok. I mean, I’m still double underweared from this morning and I think that’s trained my boys to behave…”
“Well, okay,” returned Kirk dubiously. “I guess if that’s what you think. I just don’t want you to start jizzing or something in practice. It’s happened before, as I told you.”
“Yeah, I know, but every instinct is telling me I can go back to normal.”
“All right then, whyncha gimme back my jock?”
“Sure.” Skye rummaged in his locker and tossed Kirk’s worn jockstrap to him. “Thanks for looking out for me, man.”
“You bet. That’s what mentors do, ya know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Skye stripped down to his two pairs of underwear. Kirk glanced at him but said nothing, and Skye pulled off both pairs and stood, cock and balls hanging. At that point, Kirk couldn’t help looking just a tad longer. He had, of course, now seen Skye naked many times, but he still couldn’t help an inaudible whistle of admiration for the beauty of Skye’s penis, the graceful hang of his testicles, and the over all presence they created, rather like a celebrity or royalty showing up at an important affair. Skye grabbed his own jock, pulled it on and adjusted it, remembering for the briefest of moments the first day in the locker room when Kirk had reached out to untwist his leg strap, and then pulled on his shirt. He poked around for his shorts and again Kirk looked at him appreciatively. He had to admit to himself that his young charge looked kinda hot in just a shirt and jockstrap.
Skye finished dressing and the two of them, along with the other guys, headed to the practice mat.
Practice proceeded with the usual routine of stretches, technical matters, demo’s and so forth. Everything was going well for Skye; his moves were silky smooth, his strength was instantly at his beck and call, and for fun at the break, he even did a quick “match” with someone well above his weight class, just to get a sense of what it was like. He felt he held his own reasonably well for someone of his size and experience.
Kirk complimented him, as did David. The latter’s presence reminded Skye that Kirk was going to investigate how things went with that other condom-wearing dude. Skye figured that would be an interesting story.
Practice resumed and just as Skye was flipping himself out of a lower position, something went wrong in his shorts. For a nanosecond, Skye didn’t know what had happened, but suddenly he felt his scrotum flop out the leg of his shorts and he realized he was no longer supported or bound by the jockstrap pouch. His jock leg strap had come apart from the waistband.
He was unsure for a moment about what to do. His opponent hadn’t quite figured out the situation either, of course, but he could tell there had been some kind of malfunction and so he stopped. “What’s up, bro?” he asked as he stood up and backed away a step.
“Um…”. Skye’s face reddened. “Uh, looks like maybe … uh… my jock leg strap broke?” The other guy looked at him for just a moment and then laughed. “Ha! That’s gotta suck. You okay? I didn’t grab your huge balls or anything?” He winked.
Skye smiled. “Nah.”
His partner just grinned. “Better take care of that, bro.”
“Uh, yeah,” said Skye. “I guess I’d better ask…”
At that moment the Coach, famous for seeing everything, interrupted: “Skye, you got a broken strap?”
“Yes sir. Dunno why it happened now.”
“No one ever knows why that happens. It just does some time. 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.
Wanted to let you know, I know it takes a while to write so take your time. If it seems people aren’t reading maybe they’re waiting for more chapters to binge read. That’s what I do. Keep going. If you’re enjoying this story don’t worry about the audience. The story is great and we are here waiting patiently.
Super nice response, man. Thank you.
Today I actually wrote three more chapters but I'm not sure if they're what I want.
Don’t rush or feel pressure. We support your creativity.
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 remember: “Hey, Kirk, you said you had to talk with David. Did you get a chance?”
“What?” asked Kirk, whose mind was elsewhere as he idly scratched his balls through his pouch. “Oh yeah. Yeah, he and I had a chat.” Kirk leaned in a little. “He said his mentoree talked with him about their strategy, the same one we had, you know, and that this guy was relieved. He even mentioned that he’d helped this other dude, meaning you, and was amazed that both you guys were in the same situation. David said he was grateful for the advice and was gonna keep doing it for a while. The guy didn’t ask about you or anything.”
Skye paused for a moment. “Well, I guess that’s ok. It was really weird, though, him wearing a condom like me and then reaching over to take mine off. If you wanna know, it actually bothered me a little. Not the helping out part; he was right that I didn’t really have the technique about how to remove that fucker correctly…”
“Yeah,” interrupted Kirk, “we kinda forgot to review that part.” He grinned.
“… yeah, but what bugged me is that I just kinda froze. I mean, here’s a dude who was basically grabbing my junk, and I didn’t slap his hand or anything; I just froze.”
“Not so odd, really,” answered Kirk. “The sex part of that whole scene might make any guy pause for a moment, and from what you tell me, that guy was smooth and quick. I hope he’s not that quick with the girls.” Kirk gave a small laugh.
“Well, anyway,” resumed Skye, “I guess I’ll stick with that strategy for a bit. But wait… I don’t have any more condoms. Where do I get ‘em?”
“Drugstores sell ‘em. How do you not know that, dude?”
“No experience, Mr. Mentor. So fuck you.”
Kirk grinned again. “Actually, no problem. I have about three boxes of, I dunno, 30-something each. I’ll just provide you.”
“You don’t have to do that, man. I have some money now and….”
“Shut the fuck up, dork. I’m happy to. It’s not like I’m using ‘em by the dozen, ya know.”
“Why do you have so many?”
Kirk paused, hesitant to explain. Skye picked up on this and said, “What?”
Kirk tried to make light of it: “Well, ya know… my last year of college, I guess it was just assumed that I’d be getting laid every night.”
“Who assumed that?”
Another pause, then Kirk said quietly: “My dad.”
“Oh,” said Skye. “I see. I guess he figured his son’s a stud or something…”
A quiet smile from Kirk. “Yeah, I guess.” Kirk’s discomfort was starting to intensify, knowing how sensitive this area was for Skye, but the latter merely said, “That’s cool.” In an effort to keep his strong feelings at bay, Skye shifted the conversation and said, “Well, ok. If you really don’t mind, maybe I could come with you to your room and pick up a handful.”
“Sure thing, buddy,” said Kirk, a little relieved. He and Skye pulled off their jocks, looped the school-issued plastic web band thru them along with their other sweaty gear, fastened the clasp, and tossed them in the bin. Kirk might have been used to it, but Skye was still conscious that the locker room attendants washed their gear and replaced it every day, a luxury that would have been inconceivable up to now.
No Three Stooges’ activities today. The guys just soaped up and showered. An observer would have noticed that it was unconsciously expected for these athletes to spend most of their time soaping their cocks and balls, which were, after all, the central control room of their lives.
Skye and Kirk toweled off and returned to dress.
“Let’s go to dinner and then we can go back to my room for the condoms, ok?”
“Sure thing.”
Skye’s replacement jockstrap fit him perfectly, and once he’d made final adjustments, including reaching up his shorts leg to reposition his hangers, he hardly noticed it at all. It seemed to conform to the outline of his equipment naturally.
Practice ended with Coach giving his usual spiel about working hard and so forth. The guys headed to the locker room, talking, laughing, and smacking each other.
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 remember: “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.”
Ch. 78 Kirk’s room
Dinner was the usual affair of wolfing down food, making dick jokes, passionate arguments about who the top college wrestler was, and so forth. After dessert, Kirk said, “Let’s go” and they walked to his dorm. Skye had never been in this dorm. It had a certain appeal that made it nicer than his own, though he couldn’t have described precisely why..
They walked up a couple of flights of stairs and into a hallway. Kirk opened the door and he and Skye walked into a common room with three single rooms off it.
“You have your own single room?” asked Skye.
“Yeah. Perks of being a senior. You’ll probably get one too in a few years. Of course, I’ll be outta here by then…” Kirk’s voice trailed off a little; he loved college and the idea of leaving it made him ineffably sad. Skye had the same reaction. He had never even thought about what college life would be like next year, with no Kirk. His spirits dropped but neither boy found anything to say, so after a moment Kirk said, “Lemme get those condoms. Come on in.”
Skye followed Kirk into his room, which was spare and tidily organized. No open drawers or boxer briefs draped over bedframes here. Skye imagined Kirk’s drawers were equally neat.
Kirk walked over to his closet, reached up to the shelf and moved a pile of neatly folded clothes and pulled out a box of 36 condoms.
“Lemme think about this,” he said. “I have no way of knowing if you’ll do what I did; my dick troubles, if you can call ‘em that, lasted about two weeks, and even though you only see her three times a week in class, right,? you might need it in case you run into her, so maybe take about 15 or so?”
“Jeezus,” muttered Skye. “Never thought I’d need 15 condoms… especially for this.” He smiled ruefully.
“Aw, cheer up, man. It really just means you’re a stud. You’ll get laid for real sooner or later.”
“Kirk?” came a voice from the common room. “You in there?”
“In here, Avery,” called Kirk.
Into his room stepped a muscle-bound senior: Military buzz cut, slightly tanned white skin, a square jawline, surprisingly elegant nose, and Huskie canine ice-blue eyes, set off by thick dark eyelashes. He looked like a soldier from some Hollywood fantasy film. He was wearing only a black pouch brief whose bulge drew the eye instantly, and he entered the room with a self-confidence that Skye picked up on immediately. In a flash, he realized that here was a guy that took control over every room he entered, and probably had done so since he was a boy.
Avery stood in the doorway a moment, and Skye admired the granite muscles on Kirk’s roommate. Skye couldn’t quite figure out what Avery’s sport might be. Maybe he just lifted weights, but Skye had a feeling there was more to it than that. Perhaps a decathlete? He thought. He didn’t know much about that area of sports, but he had seen it on TV and this guy looked like that might be his world.
Avery looked at Skye the moment he entered the room. Keenly aware of his own body, he instantly appreciated Skye’s obviously toned musculature, apparent even through his clothes. Their eyes met for just a moment and Avery said, “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
Kirk smiled and turned to Skye, “This is one of our suitemates, Avery. He’s a wimp, so be kind.”
Quick as a snake, Avery backhand slapped Kirk on his chest. “Ow…” cried Kirk in mock pain. “You fucker. Wanna play that way?” And in the twinkling of an eye, both guys were wrestling on Kirk’s now no longer tidy bed, each trying to get the upper hand. Kirk, of course, had long-developed wrestling skills, but Avery was strong as a bull and it wasn’t easy to pin him. Both guys were laughing as they struggled, calling each other stupid frat boy names and generally creating a mess.
After a couple of minutes—in which Skye didn’t know what to do; truth is he felt an inclination to join in the fun but wasn’t sure he should—the two broke away from each other.
“Now look what you’ve done, Asshole,” said Avery. He suddenly assumed a delicate-voiced phony air, “Now I have to readjust my equipment, thanks to your shenanigans.” He did indeed need to, as the head of his cock was showing above his waistband. He momentarily pulled the elastic waistband away from his waist and let his penis fall back into its normal place. He then resettled his junk.
“Now, if you’ll stop being a douchebag for five seconds, I’ll introduce you. This is Skye. He’s on the wrestling team. I’m his mentor.”
Avery grinned and stuck out a heavily muscled arm to shake Skye’s hand. Another hand shake with a dude whose cock he’d just seen, like the naked guys on his first day.
“Nice to meetcha, Skye. Sorry about the wrestling match. It’s just that Kirk doesn’t know how to not provoke me, so someone has to keep him in line.” He punctuated this with another teasing backhand slap at Kirk’s chest, but the wrestler was too quick and jumped back so that Avery smacked his hand on the dresser.
“Ow! Fuck. Oh well, serves me right, I guess. Anyway, Kirk, I came in to ask… whoa! What’s with the condom factory?” He looked at the box of condoms with a raised eyebrow.
Skye panicked. Oh fuck, he thought, please please please don’t tell him about our strategy he silently messaged Kirk in his thoughts. He had grown to appreciate deeply the nonchalant approach to sex among the guys, but he thought he might self-immolate into a pile of ash if Kirk told his roommate the real reason.
But Kirk was an old campaigner when it came to covering up sexual matters if he chose. He was the one in high school who had always covered for his buddies by suggesting to them creative outlets for disguising their sexploits from their parents.
“Just doing my job as a mentor. Don’t want my man Skye here to be caught without protection. The last thing this stud needs is a pregnant girlfriend, right, Skye?”
Skye’s eyes widened a little at this, showing a certain naïveté that was not lost on Avery, but the latter simply said, “Good man. You’re lucky to have fuckbrains here for a mentor.” He grinned. “I just wanted to know if I could borrow your calculator. Mine’s all fucked up.”
“Sure, man… but you know, God gave you a BRAIN so you wouldn’t have to … oh wait, did he give you a brain?”
A nanosecond later, Kirk was back on the bed with Avery on top. He was rubbing his buzz cut all over Kirk’s face and neck and saying in his best tv-based Mafioso accent, “I got your brains right here. Ya like that, huh? How do them brains feel?”
But Kirk was not to be outdone. The next moment he had used his wrestling skills to flip the entire situation, and Avery found himself pinned in a pretzel position, having no idea what had happened.
Kirk just grinned. “How’s it going, Brainiac? Feeling pretty smart right about now?” The two of them experienced a silence of a second or two, and then burst out laughing. Kirk rose and offered the defeated Avery his hand to get up off the bed. Both were a little breathless from the exertion and the laughter. Kirk went over to his desk and pulled his calculator from the drawer and tossed it to Avery. “That’ll be $25, sir,” he said.
“Just put it on my tab,” replied Avery. “Nice t’meetcha, Skye. Be careful.”
“Thanks,” said a somewhat flustered Skye. “Um, you too.”
Avery winked at him and exited the room.
“Wow,” said Skye. “This suite looks like a lot of work.”
“Yeah, old Avery’s always harassing me. Makes it tough to get things done. But you’ll notice, my mentoree, who came out on top on that one, huh?”
Kirk grinned. “Now….” He counted out 15 condoms, tossing in an extra one for “good luck” as he called it, and walked Skye to the suite door.
“Ok, buddy. You should be all set. You have Spanish tomorrow and Friday?”
“Yep.”
“Ok, so remember: double briefed and condom at the ready, soldier!”
Remembering one of the few military movies he had seen, Skye responded with “Yessir!” and a smart salute.
Dinner was the usual affair of wolfing down food, making dick jokes, passionate arguments about who the top college wrestler was, and so forth. After dessert, Kirk said, “Let’s go” and they walked to his dorm. Skye had never been in this dorm. It had a certain appeal that made it nicer than his own, though he couldn’t have described precisely why..
They walked up a couple of flights of stairs and into a hallway. Kirk opened the door and he and Skye walked into a common room with three single rooms off it.
“You have your own single room?” asked Skye.
“Yeah. Perks of being a senior. You’ll probably get one too in a few years. Of course, I’ll be outta here by then…” Kirk’s voice trailed off a little; he loved college and the idea of leaving it made him ineffably sad. Skye had the same reaction. He had never even thought about what college life would be like next year, with no Kirk. His spirits dropped but neither boy found anything to say, so after a moment Kirk said, “Lemme get those condoms. Come on in.”
Skye followed Kirk into his room, which was spare and tidily organized. No open drawers or boxer briefs draped over bedframes here. Skye imagined Kirk’s drawers were equally neat.
Kirk walked over to his closet, reached up to the shelf and moved a pile of neatly folded clothes and pulled out a box of 36 condoms.
“Lemme think about this,” he said. “I have no way of knowing if you’ll do what I did; my dick troubles, if you can call ‘em that, lasted about two weeks, and even though you only see her three times a week in class, right,? you might need it in case you run into her, so maybe take about 15 or so?”
“Jeezus,” muttered Skye. “Never thought I’d need 15 condoms… especially for this.” He smiled ruefully.
“Aw, cheer up, man. It really just means you’re a stud. You’ll get laid for real sooner or later.”
“Kirk?” came a voice from the common room. “You in there?”
“In here, Avery,” called Kirk.
Into his room stepped a muscle-bound senior: Military buzz cut, slightly tanned white skin, a square jawline, surprisingly elegant nose, and Huskie canine ice-blue eyes, set off by thick dark eyelashes. He looked like a soldier from some Hollywood fantasy film. He was wearing only a black pouch brief whose bulge drew the eye instantly, and he entered the room with a self-confidence that Skye picked up on immediately. In a flash, he realized that here was a guy that took control over every room he entered, and probably had done so since he was a boy.
Avery stood in the doorway a moment, and Skye admired the granite muscles on Kirk’s roommate. Skye couldn’t quite figure out what Avery’s sport might be. Maybe he just lifted weights, but Skye had a feeling there was more to it than that. Perhaps a decathlete? He thought. He didn’t know much about that area of sports, but he had seen it on TV and this guy looked like that might be his world.
Avery looked at Skye the moment he entered the room. Keenly aware of his own body, he instantly appreciated Skye’s obviously toned musculature, apparent even through his clothes. Their eyes met for just a moment and Avery said, “Hey. Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
Kirk smiled and turned to Skye, “This is one of our suitemates, Avery. He’s a wimp, so be kind.”
Quick as a snake, Avery backhand slapped Kirk on his chest. “Ow…” cried Kirk in mock pain. “You fucker. Wanna play that way?” And in the twinkling of an eye, both guys were wrestling on Kirk’s now no longer tidy bed, each trying to get the upper hand. Kirk, of course, had long-developed wrestling skills, but Avery was strong as a bull and it wasn’t easy to pin him. Both guys were laughing as they struggled, calling each other stupid frat boy names and generally creating a mess.
After a couple of minutes—in which Skye didn’t know what to do; truth is he felt an inclination to join in the fun but wasn’t sure he should—the two broke away from each other.
“Now look what you’ve done, Asshole,” said Avery. He suddenly assumed a delicate-voiced phony air, “Now I have to readjust my equipment, thanks to your shenanigans.” He did indeed need to, as the head of his cock was showing above his waistband. He momentarily pulled the elastic waistband away from his waist and let his penis fall back into its normal place. He then resettled his junk.
“Now, if you’ll stop being a douchebag for five seconds, I’ll introduce you. This is Skye. He’s on the wrestling team. I’m his mentor.”
Avery grinned and stuck out a heavily muscled arm to shake Skye’s hand. Another hand shake with a dude whose cock he’d just seen, like the naked guys on his first day.
“Nice to meetcha, Skye. Sorry about the wrestling match. It’s just that Kirk doesn’t know how to not provoke me, so someone has to keep him in line.” He punctuated this with another teasing backhand slap at Kirk’s chest, but the wrestler was too quick and jumped back so that Avery smacked his hand on the dresser.
“Ow! Fuck. Oh well, serves me right, I guess. Anyway, Kirk, I came in to ask… whoa! What’s with the condom factory?” He looked at the box of condoms with a raised eyebrow.
Skye panicked. Oh fuck, he thought, please please please don’t tell him about our strategy he silently messaged Kirk in his thoughts. He had grown to appreciate deeply the nonchalant approach to sex among the guys, but he thought he might self-immolate into a pile of ash if Kirk told his roommate the real reason.
But Kirk was an old campaigner when it came to covering up sexual matters if he chose. He was the one in high school who had always covered for his buddies by suggesting to them creative outlets for disguising their sexploits from their parents.
“Just doing my job as a mentor. Don’t want my man Skye here to be caught without protection. The last thing this stud needs is a pregnant girlfriend, right, Skye?”
Skye’s eyes widened a little at this, showing a certain naïveté that was not lost on Avery, but the latter simply said, “Good man. You’re lucky to have fuckbrains here for a mentor.” He grinned. “I just wanted to know if I could borrow your calculator. Mine’s all fucked up.”
“Sure, man… but you know, God gave you a BRAIN so you wouldn’t have to … oh wait, did he give you a brain?”
A nanosecond later, Kirk was back on the bed with Avery on top. He was rubbing his buzz cut all over Kirk’s face and neck and saying in his best tv-based Mafioso accent, “I got your brains right here. Ya like that, huh? How do them brains feel?”
But Kirk was not to be outdone. The next moment he had used his wrestling skills to flip the entire situation, and Avery found himself pinned in a pretzel position, having no idea what had happened.
Kirk just grinned. “How’s it going, Brainiac? Feeling pretty smart right about now?” The two of them experienced a silence of a second or two, and then burst out laughing. Kirk rose and offered the defeated Avery his hand to get up off the bed. Both were a little breathless from the exertion and the laughter. Kirk went over to his desk and pulled his calculator from the drawer and tossed it to Avery. “That’ll be $25, sir,” he said.
“Just put it on my tab,” replied Avery. “Nice t’meetcha, Skye. Be careful.”
“Thanks,” said a somewhat flustered Skye. “Um, you too.”
Avery winked at him and exited the room.
“Wow,” said Skye. “This suite looks like a lot of work.”
“Yeah, old Avery’s always harassing me. Makes it tough to get things done. But you’ll notice, my mentoree, who came out on top on that one, huh?”
Kirk grinned. “Now….” He counted out 15 condoms, tossing in an extra one for “good luck” as he called it, and walked Skye to the suite door.
“Ok, buddy. You should be all set. You have Spanish tomorrow and Friday?”
“Yep.”
“Ok, so remember: double briefed and condom at the ready, soldier!”
Remembering one of the few military movies he had seen, Skye responded with “Yessir!” and a smart salute.
Ch. 78 Mr. Williams
Skye debated going back to his room to drop off the condoms, which were making kind of a lump in his pockets, but he felt that doing so would make him late to the university store, so he just tried to flatten out the packages as best he could and reported to work.
Mr. Williams was not out on the floor as he usually was. Curiously, Skye has some kind of feeling that things weren’t right; it wasn’t just that Mr. Williams wasn’t out; there was some other feeling in the air.
Skye looked all over the floor and saw no sign. Then the obvious occurred to him: the office.
He walked to Mr. Williams’ office and rapped lightly on the door. “Mr. Williams?” he called. There was no answer. Unsure, Skye pushed he door open a little, something he would not normally have done, but again, instinct told him something was off. He entered, and to his relief he saw Mr. Williams in his chair, his back to the door. He was leaning over an object and seemed unaware of Skye’s presence.
“Um, Mr. Williams?” Skye asked again. Still no response. “Sir?”
The older man straightened up a little but did not turn around. “That you, Skye?” he said in a slightly hoarse voice.
“Yes, sir,” said Skye. “I’m just here for my shift. Um…is everything ok?”
Still Mr. Williams did not turn around. “Sorry, Skye. I just need a minute. He rotated his chair slightly, and Sky was able to catch a glimpse of a framed photo in his boss’s lap. He couldn’t make out what it was.
Somehow Charlie came to mind and Skye found himself standing stock still, waiting. This proved the right course of action. After a few moments, Mr. Williams let out a sigh—deep, reverberant, agonized. He rotated a little further.
“You must be surprised, Skye, to see me like this. I pride myself on my professionalism, but once a year or so….” He trailed off.
Skye said nothing for some time. Then, with a quiet audacity that surprised him, he said softly, “What is it, Mr. Williams?”
The older men took the framed photo and set it on the desk. He turned it so Skye could see: a boy of about 18, ruddy skin, red-hair and a big grin on this face as he held a basketball in a driveway, the net and rim behind him.
Suddenly, it all became clear; Mr. Williams’ willingness to hire him after just a few minutes, the special arrangements he had made to make sure Skye got his pay a little early, the compliments he had paid him on his work, the cheeriness when talking with him, the sharing of customer strategies, the warmth he exuded with his young employee.
Skye looked at the photo and in a subdued tone said, “Your son?”
Mr. Williams merely nodded. Skye dreaded the next question that emerged in his mind: “He’s not… oh God, he’s not…?”
Mr. Williams nodded again. “A year ago today.”
Skye felt the agony of his boss, like a wild animal caught in a heartless steel-jaw trap. He said nothing. The two of them stayed in their respective attitudes while the sun cast a few dying beams through the dusty blinds. Time stopped.
Presently, Mr. Williams called on all his professional experience and said, “Well, you’d better get out on the floor, Skye. There might be customers. I have a few inventory things as well. And Skye?”
“Yes, Mr. Williams?”
“Thank you.”
Skye turned and walked slowly out of the office, his mind reeling. He had been so heartbroken growing up without a father, he had never even considered what it might be like to be a father who had lost a son. Such awareness occurs only after an incident like the one he had just had. He now understood how Mr. Williams regarded him.
Skye debated going back to his room to drop off the condoms, which were making kind of a lump in his pockets, but he felt that doing so would make him late to the university store, so he just tried to flatten out the packages as best he could and reported to work.
Mr. Williams was not out on the floor as he usually was. Curiously, Skye has some kind of feeling that things weren’t right; it wasn’t just that Mr. Williams wasn’t out; there was some other feeling in the air.
Skye looked all over the floor and saw no sign. Then the obvious occurred to him: the office.
He walked to Mr. Williams’ office and rapped lightly on the door. “Mr. Williams?” he called. There was no answer. Unsure, Skye pushed he door open a little, something he would not normally have done, but again, instinct told him something was off. He entered, and to his relief he saw Mr. Williams in his chair, his back to the door. He was leaning over an object and seemed unaware of Skye’s presence.
“Um, Mr. Williams?” Skye asked again. Still no response. “Sir?”
The older man straightened up a little but did not turn around. “That you, Skye?” he said in a slightly hoarse voice.
“Yes, sir,” said Skye. “I’m just here for my shift. Um…is everything ok?”
Still Mr. Williams did not turn around. “Sorry, Skye. I just need a minute. He rotated his chair slightly, and Sky was able to catch a glimpse of a framed photo in his boss’s lap. He couldn’t make out what it was.
Somehow Charlie came to mind and Skye found himself standing stock still, waiting. This proved the right course of action. After a few moments, Mr. Williams let out a sigh—deep, reverberant, agonized. He rotated a little further.
“You must be surprised, Skye, to see me like this. I pride myself on my professionalism, but once a year or so….” He trailed off.
Skye said nothing for some time. Then, with a quiet audacity that surprised him, he said softly, “What is it, Mr. Williams?”
The older men took the framed photo and set it on the desk. He turned it so Skye could see: a boy of about 18, ruddy skin, red-hair and a big grin on this face as he held a basketball in a driveway, the net and rim behind him.
Suddenly, it all became clear; Mr. Williams’ willingness to hire him after just a few minutes, the special arrangements he had made to make sure Skye got his pay a little early, the compliments he had paid him on his work, the cheeriness when talking with him, the sharing of customer strategies, the warmth he exuded with his young employee.
Skye looked at the photo and in a subdued tone said, “Your son?”
Mr. Williams merely nodded. Skye dreaded the next question that emerged in his mind: “He’s not… oh God, he’s not…?”
Mr. Williams nodded again. “A year ago today.”
Skye felt the agony of his boss, like a wild animal caught in a heartless steel-jaw trap. He said nothing. The two of them stayed in their respective attitudes while the sun cast a few dying beams through the dusty blinds. Time stopped.
Presently, Mr. Williams called on all his professional experience and said, “Well, you’d better get out on the floor, Skye. There might be customers. I have a few inventory things as well. And Skye?”
“Yes, Mr. Williams?”
“Thank you.”
Skye turned and walked slowly out of the office, his mind reeling. He had been so heartbroken growing up without a father, he had never even considered what it might be like to be a father who had lost a son. Such awareness occurs only after an incident like the one he had just had. He now understood how Mr. Williams regarded him.
Ch. 80. Out of left field.
Skye went about his work in a daze. He was able to help customers and rearrange some shelved good. Mr. Williams had assumed his professional mask and you would never have known the grief he had endured in his office the last few hours. Around 10:00, Skye checked on him before he left but Mr. Williams merely said, “Good job, Skye. See you Saturday.”
Skye said goodbye and walked back to his dorm. He entered the room to see his naked roommate still struggling with Freud. Instantly, Charlie said, “What is it? What happened?”
Skye related the sorrowful moments of his time with his boss, and Charlie listened sympathetically. “That poor man. There’s no loss like that.”
“I even tried to imitate you, dude, if you want to know. I thought ‘What would Charlie do?’ and I just stood still and listened.”
“Yeah, that’s an important part of counseling skills. I’m flattered.”
Skye was silent.
Charlie asked, “Are you ready for Spanish class tomorrow? Hey, what did you do about condoms? I assume you didn’t buy ‘em at the university store, especially with your boss in the state he was in, and I also assume you’ve gone straight and aren’t stealing stuff anymore, so…”
“Kirk took me to his room. He has like three big boxes of them. His dad…” Skye stopped.
“Yeah, I get it,” said Charlie hastily. “He’s a big stud and his dad knows it.”
“Well, truth is, he kind of implied he wasn’t using ‘em much.”
“Even studs have dry spells. I suppose he’ll get around to using them. How many did he give you?
“Sixteen.”
“Sixteen? Good, cuz you might need ‘em even when you’re not in Spanish, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what he said. So anyway, I’ll follow the strategy tonight and tomorrow and we’ll see. He did say that David—that other guy on the team—talked to his mentoree—you know, the guy who stood next to me at the urinal— and that his technique was working. It is kinda weird, though, you have to admit.”
“Hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. And I’ve gotta figure out this sex pervert Sigmund Freud. Back to studying.”
Skye took Charlie as a model and did some studying himself. After an hour or so, they went to the bathroom and got ready for bed. Skye stripped naked and hopped into bed. Charlie, already naked of course, did the same that the lights went out. Both boys knew they’d be beating off that night: Charlie because he almost always did, and Skye because, well, it was a kind of homework assignment. An alien with X-ray vision would have seen two college studs, hands on their cocks and balls under the sheets, working their sex centers for all they were worth. An even more sophisticated alien might have use futuristic equipment to read their thoughts: Skye’s ranging from the earliest memories of jacking off, a couple of girls he thought were cute when he was younger, some envy upon seeing older boys on the Rez who had shown him how to jack off and how to cum, one female teacher whose smile had dazzled him and caused strange stirring in his groin, and finally, having put off the inevitable for as long as possible, the sight of blond Maria and her brilliant smile and energy. That final image caused Skye’s balls to snap up and force huge spurts of semen to emerge from his thick, pulsating cock and land on his tight abs—or “cum gutters” as he had just that day learned they were called. Fuck man, he thought. That was a good session. That’s gotta be enough to keep me asleep all night. With unfathomable inconsistency, that is indeed what he did.
Charlie, though more sophisticated, was less complex. He fantasized about his older cousin and his girlfriend, whom he had once seen fucking when he was at an impressionable age. That scenario remained his go-to scene for night time jacking off.
If the aliens had had the patience to watch, they would have seen two handsome, athletic college boys slowly drifting into slumber, with a little light snoring from time to time, and perhaps even those from a different planet would not have been indifferent to the sheer beauty of young males, innocent and unguarded, sleeping in the same room.
Skye went about his work in a daze. He was able to help customers and rearrange some shelved good. Mr. Williams had assumed his professional mask and you would never have known the grief he had endured in his office the last few hours. Around 10:00, Skye checked on him before he left but Mr. Williams merely said, “Good job, Skye. See you Saturday.”
Skye said goodbye and walked back to his dorm. He entered the room to see his naked roommate still struggling with Freud. Instantly, Charlie said, “What is it? What happened?”
Skye related the sorrowful moments of his time with his boss, and Charlie listened sympathetically. “That poor man. There’s no loss like that.”
“I even tried to imitate you, dude, if you want to know. I thought ‘What would Charlie do?’ and I just stood still and listened.”
“Yeah, that’s an important part of counseling skills. I’m flattered.”
Skye was silent.
Charlie asked, “Are you ready for Spanish class tomorrow? Hey, what did you do about condoms? I assume you didn’t buy ‘em at the university store, especially with your boss in the state he was in, and I also assume you’ve gone straight and aren’t stealing stuff anymore, so…”
“Kirk took me to his room. He has like three big boxes of them. His dad…” Skye stopped.
“Yeah, I get it,” said Charlie hastily. “He’s a big stud and his dad knows it.”
“Well, truth is, he kind of implied he wasn’t using ‘em much.”
“Even studs have dry spells. I suppose he’ll get around to using them. How many did he give you?
“Sixteen.”
“Sixteen? Good, cuz you might need ‘em even when you’re not in Spanish, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what he said. So anyway, I’ll follow the strategy tonight and tomorrow and we’ll see. He did say that David—that other guy on the team—talked to his mentoree—you know, the guy who stood next to me at the urinal— and that his technique was working. It is kinda weird, though, you have to admit.”
“Hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. And I’ve gotta figure out this sex pervert Sigmund Freud. Back to studying.”
Skye took Charlie as a model and did some studying himself. After an hour or so, they went to the bathroom and got ready for bed. Skye stripped naked and hopped into bed. Charlie, already naked of course, did the same that the lights went out. Both boys knew they’d be beating off that night: Charlie because he almost always did, and Skye because, well, it was a kind of homework assignment. An alien with X-ray vision would have seen two college studs, hands on their cocks and balls under the sheets, working their sex centers for all they were worth. An even more sophisticated alien might have use futuristic equipment to read their thoughts: Skye’s ranging from the earliest memories of jacking off, a couple of girls he thought were cute when he was younger, some envy upon seeing older boys on the Rez who had shown him how to jack off and how to cum, one female teacher whose smile had dazzled him and caused strange stirring in his groin, and finally, having put off the inevitable for as long as possible, the sight of blond Maria and her brilliant smile and energy. That final image caused Skye’s balls to snap up and force huge spurts of semen to emerge from his thick, pulsating cock and land on his tight abs—or “cum gutters” as he had just that day learned they were called. Fuck man, he thought. That was a good session. That’s gotta be enough to keep me asleep all night. With unfathomable inconsistency, that is indeed what he did.
Charlie, though more sophisticated, was less complex. He fantasized about his older cousin and his girlfriend, whom he had once seen fucking when he was at an impressionable age. That scenario remained his go-to scene for night time jacking off.
If the aliens had had the patience to watch, they would have seen two handsome, athletic college boys slowly drifting into slumber, with a little light snoring from time to time, and perhaps even those from a different planet would not have been indifferent to the sheer beauty of young males, innocent and unguarded, sleeping in the same room.
Ch. 81. Morning wood song.
Both boys woke up at more or less the same time. Unsurprisingly, they both had morning wood. Skye was contemplating whether he should beat off again, but once Charlie had risen to go to the bathroom, his hard cock jutting out with his usual lack of self-consciousness, Skye decided he would just leave his own cock alone. It didn’t seem to have mattered the last time, anyway. The only strategy that had worked was the condom.
Alone, he too got up and then looked, as he had thousands of times, at the battering ram between his legs. It truly was an awesome Beast, and though it was causing him grief at the moment, he was certainly grateful that that old tricky bitch Mother Nature had given him such substantial sexual equipment. He almost—almost—grabbed his kit and walked with his hard-on to the bathroom. Certainly, half the guys did this every morning, so he couldn’t see why he was still embarrassed, but in the end, he chose to let it subside to a more manageable size. Sometimes he got tired of the commentaries.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and sauntered to the bathroom. As unpredictable as ever, the bathroom was very crowded. Guys were in all states of dress and undress. Naked dudes at the sink, brushing their teeth while idly playing with their cocks and not even noticing. Guys with tented boxer briefs whose morning wood had defiantly stayed in the picture. A couple of guys with hard-ons reaching up the side of their tighty-whities. All of them groping, adjusting, laughing, tugging—the very picture of maleness.
After Skye had been there a few minutes, in came Alex, the resident intellectual, his circular wire-rimmed glasses giving him a scholarly air, even though he was wearing only plain white boxers and even though he was upfront about wishing his dick were bigger, up front he showed the notable tent of an erection.
With no introduction, he sang lyrics of his own devising to the well-known tune of “Spiderman”:
Morning Wood,
Morning wood
Why the hell does it
Feel so good?
Watch it grow
In your hand
How it jumps
On command!
That’s right!
Here comes the Morning Wood!
Somehow his voice carried over the normal noise of showers and chat, and the other guys began laughing.
“Holy FUCK! You’re a fuckin genius, man!” “Why don’t you quit college and go write for the movies?” “Hahahaha!You’re freaking hilarious, bro!” “Sing it again.”
To this last request, Alex responded; “Nope. One performance only. Otherwise, it’ll become stale. Well, I’ll tell you what, though. If you guys get all your homework done tonight, I’ll sing you a reprise tomorrow morning here in the bathroom. Deal?”
The other guys laughed. Some flicked water from the shower or sink at him, and a few tried to squirt him with shaving cream, to no avail. He scampered out of the bathroom apparently content just to have shared that little ditty for a moment’s amusement.
After both guys had returned, Skye said, more to himself than Charlie, even though the latter heard it, “Well, I guess now’s the time.”
“You need any help, buddy?” asked Charlie.
“Nah, it’s not that hard.”
“And let’s hope it stays ‘not that hard’ in Spanish!”
“Har har.”
“Hard hard.”
Skye fished a condom package from his the pocket of his jeans, ripped it open with his teeth, dropped his towel and grabbed his penis. He unrolled the condom a few inches and then let go. It hung there, like a pathetic icicle. Skye grimaced and pulled on his tighty whites and then his gray boxer briefs over that. Again, he felt—though he didn’t know the term—girded for battle.
Both boys woke up at more or less the same time. Unsurprisingly, they both had morning wood. Skye was contemplating whether he should beat off again, but once Charlie had risen to go to the bathroom, his hard cock jutting out with his usual lack of self-consciousness, Skye decided he would just leave his own cock alone. It didn’t seem to have mattered the last time, anyway. The only strategy that had worked was the condom.
Alone, he too got up and then looked, as he had thousands of times, at the battering ram between his legs. It truly was an awesome Beast, and though it was causing him grief at the moment, he was certainly grateful that that old tricky bitch Mother Nature had given him such substantial sexual equipment. He almost—almost—grabbed his kit and walked with his hard-on to the bathroom. Certainly, half the guys did this every morning, so he couldn’t see why he was still embarrassed, but in the end, he chose to let it subside to a more manageable size. Sometimes he got tired of the commentaries.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and sauntered to the bathroom. As unpredictable as ever, the bathroom was very crowded. Guys were in all states of dress and undress. Naked dudes at the sink, brushing their teeth while idly playing with their cocks and not even noticing. Guys with tented boxer briefs whose morning wood had defiantly stayed in the picture. A couple of guys with hard-ons reaching up the side of their tighty-whities. All of them groping, adjusting, laughing, tugging—the very picture of maleness.
After Skye had been there a few minutes, in came Alex, the resident intellectual, his circular wire-rimmed glasses giving him a scholarly air, even though he was wearing only plain white boxers and even though he was upfront about wishing his dick were bigger, up front he showed the notable tent of an erection.
With no introduction, he sang lyrics of his own devising to the well-known tune of “Spiderman”:
Morning Wood,
Morning wood
Why the hell does it
Feel so good?
Watch it grow
In your hand
How it jumps
On command!
That’s right!
Here comes the Morning Wood!
Somehow his voice carried over the normal noise of showers and chat, and the other guys began laughing.
“Holy FUCK! You’re a fuckin genius, man!” “Why don’t you quit college and go write for the movies?” “Hahahaha!You’re freaking hilarious, bro!” “Sing it again.”
To this last request, Alex responded; “Nope. One performance only. Otherwise, it’ll become stale. Well, I’ll tell you what, though. If you guys get all your homework done tonight, I’ll sing you a reprise tomorrow morning here in the bathroom. Deal?”
The other guys laughed. Some flicked water from the shower or sink at him, and a few tried to squirt him with shaving cream, to no avail. He scampered out of the bathroom apparently content just to have shared that little ditty for a moment’s amusement.
After both guys had returned, Skye said, more to himself than Charlie, even though the latter heard it, “Well, I guess now’s the time.”
“You need any help, buddy?” asked Charlie.
“Nah, it’s not that hard.”
“And let’s hope it stays ‘not that hard’ in Spanish!”
“Har har.”
“Hard hard.”
Skye fished a condom package from his the pocket of his jeans, ripped it open with his teeth, dropped his towel and grabbed his penis. He unrolled the condom a few inches and then let go. It hung there, like a pathetic icicle. Skye grimaced and pulled on his tighty whites and then his gray boxer briefs over that. Again, he felt—though he didn’t know the term—girded for battle.
I just spent three hours at the auto repair place and now have more chapters!
Ch. 82: Out of the clear
Skye felt confident as he crossed campus. He’d even gotten used to the feeling of the condom on his dick, and the double underwear really did make him feel kind of invincible. He wondered if instead of going commando when wrestling matches started up, he should do the opposite and double jock. He’d have to ask Kirk about if that made any difference in his confidence.
He approached the language building, purposely trying to look down so he wouldn’t see Maria if she showed up. About 20 yards from the entrance, he did look up and as luck would have it, there she was, walking ahead of him so he saw only her back and ass. His dick started to stir. “Down, boy” he muttered through clenched teeth. “She’s just a chick.” Still, he simply could not tear his eyes away from her until….
He noticed that she was walking with a friend, another girl, somewhat taller than average, with loose thick dark hair that swayed as she walked. In the midst of his struggles to control his penis, he nonetheless, like every guy, wondered if she was good looking from the front. He took another look at her hair and then saw the two women turn toward each other and give each other a long, lingering good-bye kiss. This was no peck-on-the-cheek between, say, girls that had known each other all their lives. This was an erotic, lengthy kiss between two women who had no concern about others’ opinions. It was clear, even to Skye, who knew nothing about all-female relationships, that they were a couple.
Skye, flabbergasted, stopped immediately. He let his backpack fall to the ground without even noticing. He watched the kiss for its entire duration, rooted on the spot. Yet again, a plug was pulled. His penis immediately absented itself, like a whipped cur who is afraid to emerge from his doghouse. All of Skye’s considerable sexual energy vanished. For one instant, he remembered reading once about eunuchs in ancient societies, and the mere mention of them at that time had been painful. Here, though, he imagined that this utter void of sexual feeling must be what the eunuchs experienced. Indeed, it wasn’t till that moment, when all sexual feeling had disappeared, that he realized that he had, up to that point, lived his life with a continual sexual undercurrent, without necessarily being aware of it. Every moment of every day had some kind of underpinning that had to do with his cock and balls, even when he wasn’t conscious of it. Now, however, it was as if an atomic bomb had been disabled by a child simply pulling a plug or twisting a knob or cutting a wire.
The kiss broke off. Maria headed into the building. The other woman walked away, presumably to a class of her own. Skye could not move for another minute. Finally, one of his classmates who recognized him, said, “Dude? You coming to Spanish?” Skye nodded, picked up his back pack and headed in.
The class engaged in its usual chit-chat, and when the professor arrived—a fireball of energy as always—the kids got ready to work. To have infused college kids with that kind of energy was no easy task, but the symbiotic relationship was perfect. Both students and professor benefited.
Skye went through the class in a kind of daze. Sure enough, in the course of rearranging small groups, Maria ended up in front of him. They greeted each other perfunctorily in Spanish, but though Skye clenched his teeth in expectation as she sat down across from him, he was amazed at the complete lack of sensation in his crotch. There was no erection, no frothing in his balls, no insistent urge to pumpfuck the air, certainly no cum shot; nothing.
He went through the exercises as best he could, feeling a huge range of emotions. Obviously, he had found the whole Maria-induced cum explosion situation distressing, but he also found himself kind of missing secret thrill of the unanticipatable orgasms. He began to have the first incipient inklings of that absurd and complex aspect of human nature: 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 cock seemed bemused, with no idea where to go, how to act, what to do. To Skye, it looked like some medieval jester with a silly hat whose jokes had failed at court and who therefore ruefully anticipated losing his head. If there was such a thing as penis shame, this must be what it looked like
Skye snapped off the condom, pushed his dick back into his double briefs and walked over the the trashcan in a variation of the previous post-class bathroom experience. At that moment, the door opened and in came the same fellow from two days before.
“Hey, dude,” he said casually as he headed for the urinal. “How’d it work out today?”
Still amazed at the brazenness, Skye nonetheless answered, “Didn’t need it.”
“Oh?” said the other guy. “Well, I guess that’s good, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. See ya later, man.” Skye tossed the condom in the trash and exited the bathroom.
Skye felt confident as he crossed campus. He’d even gotten used to the feeling of the condom on his dick, and the double underwear really did make him feel kind of invincible. He wondered if instead of going commando when wrestling matches started up, he should do the opposite and double jock. He’d have to ask Kirk about if that made any difference in his confidence.
He approached the language building, purposely trying to look down so he wouldn’t see Maria if she showed up. About 20 yards from the entrance, he did look up and as luck would have it, there she was, walking ahead of him so he saw only her back and ass. His dick started to stir. “Down, boy” he muttered through clenched teeth. “She’s just a chick.” Still, he simply could not tear his eyes away from her until….
He noticed that she was walking with a friend, another girl, somewhat taller than average, with loose thick dark hair that swayed as she walked. In the midst of his struggles to control his penis, he nonetheless, like every guy, wondered if she was good looking from the front. He took another look at her hair and then saw the two women turn toward each other and give each other a long, lingering good-bye kiss. This was no peck-on-the-cheek between, say, girls that had known each other all their lives. This was an erotic, lengthy kiss between two women who had no concern about others’ opinions. It was clear, even to Skye, who knew nothing about all-female relationships, that they were a couple.
Skye, flabbergasted, stopped immediately. He let his backpack fall to the ground without even noticing. He watched the kiss for its entire duration, rooted on the spot. Yet again, a plug was pulled. His penis immediately absented itself, like a whipped cur who is afraid to emerge from his doghouse. All of Skye’s considerable sexual energy vanished. For one instant, he remembered reading once about eunuchs in ancient societies, and the mere mention of them at that time had been painful. Here, though, he imagined that this utter void of sexual feeling must be what the eunuchs experienced. Indeed, it wasn’t till that moment, when all sexual feeling had disappeared, that he realized that he had, up to that point, lived his life with a continual sexual undercurrent, without necessarily being aware of it. Every moment of every day had some kind of underpinning that had to do with his cock and balls, even when he wasn’t conscious of it. Now, however, it was as if an atomic bomb had been disabled by a child simply pulling a plug or twisting a knob or cutting a wire.
The kiss broke off. Maria headed into the building. The other woman walked away, presumably to a class of her own. Skye could not move for another minute. Finally, one of his classmates who recognized him, said, “Dude? You coming to Spanish?” Skye nodded, picked up his back pack and headed in.
The class engaged in its usual chit-chat, and when the professor arrived—a fireball of energy as always—the kids got ready to work. To have infused college kids with that kind of energy was no easy task, but the symbiotic relationship was perfect. Both students and professor benefited.
Skye went through the class in a kind of daze. Sure enough, in the course of rearranging small groups, Maria ended up in front of him. They greeted each other perfunctorily in Spanish, but though Skye clenched his teeth in expectation as she sat down across from him, he was amazed at the complete lack of sensation in his crotch. There was no erection, no frothing in his balls, no insistent urge to pumpfuck the air, certainly no cum shot; nothing.
He went through the exercises as best he could, feeling a huge range of emotions. Obviously, he had found the whole Maria-induced cum explosion situation distressing, but he also found himself kind of missing secret thrill of the unanticipatable orgasms. He began to have the first incipient inklings of that absurd and complex aspect of human nature: 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 cock seemed bemused, with no idea where to go, how to act, what to do. To Skye, it looked like some medieval jester with a silly hat whose jokes had failed at court and who therefore ruefully anticipated losing his head. If there was such a thing as penis shame, this must be what it looked like
Skye snapped off the condom, pushed his dick back into his double briefs and walked over the the trashcan in a variation of the previous post-class bathroom experience. At that moment, the door opened and in came the same fellow from two days before.
“Hey, dude,” he said casually as he headed for the urinal. “How’d it work out today?”
Still amazed at the brazenness, Skye nonetheless answered, “Didn’t need it.”
“Oh?” said the other guy. “Well, I guess that’s good, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. See ya later, man.” Skye tossed the condom in the trash and exited the bathroom.
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 where he was going in any conscious way. 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 barely 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 and its absence made him feel incomplete. Again, he was reminded that we often need 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. In the end, 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 found 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 their urgent exodus 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.
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 where he was going in any conscious way. 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 barely 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 and its absence made him feel incomplete. Again, he was reminded that we often need 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. In the end, 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 found 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 their urgent exodus 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.
Thanks for the Tuesday treat. Your writing is amazin.
