The Life of Mark Alexander
A Straight Guy Living an Embarrassingly Revealing Life
CHAPTER ONE
So, there I was, in a pair of my old, flimsy gym shorts with no underwear on of any form, in front of the one person that could turn me on within seconds Jennifer Lorrel. Mike, Marie, and Tara stood now in the back of the large room, behind the class of eighteen shapely women dressed in short gym shorts and tight tank tops. The three of them had won out and I was in the most potentially embarrassing position of my life. I didnt know these people and had no hope with Jennifer, so why not go with it? To finish the bet meant not having to hear of it ever again once my three friends had tired of telling the stories.
So I stood there on stage, painfully aware that I was in the possession of a penis between my legs and that I would soon lose control of it the minute Jennifer came to help me on stage. I could feel my balls free of any support. They were hanging low from my exercise as was my dick. I took a deep breath and called Jennifer on stage
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Lets step away shall we? It would seem you have come into my memory far before you should have this time. For those of you who dont know me, my name is Mark Mark Alexander in full. Im a 21 year old. And proudly, will graduate college with a physical education degree in only several semesters. If you havent noticed me around, I work at the local gym. Mainly, I work as a catch-all assistant as my boss Mr. Mathews would put it, but Ive recently been given some extra pay when I can keep a Friday evening fitness class series going for the boss. Its an experimental marketing scheme, he says. Since it is only open to non-members, its a way to get new members stepping into the gym. Hence, since none of these people had paid for this session, I was the one semi-qualified person willing to do it for what the pay was. I figured it would be a quick buck with no strings attached I proved myself wrong.
As Ive said, Im a college student physical education. Im not the type of guy you would think of though. Im pretty quiet and actually rather shy. Never had problems in high school and dont party too much. Im fit in the way I want to be. None of the heaping muscles crap. I figure, if I am going into physical education I need to be aware of what my students will be like. I want to be fit; I dont want to be a metabolic machine of muscle.
I am your average guy. If you havent seen me, maybe you might recognize me next time. Im slightly tanned in the summer, with slightly pale skin in the winter. My hair is black and falls down to my shoulder bone on my back. I keep my hair cut, though, parted in the middle and it usually stays nicely out of my face. I hate haircuts and would let it grow out a bit, but my hair is slightly wavy and I hate having to pamper it even more. The girls like it the way it is. They love running their fingers through it. Cant go cutting it shorter.
I have enough muscles to show through a tight tee and am in good shape. I am on the track team at the university and have a second job helping my track coach. He is in charge of the weight room and likes to keep it clean and readied. In all, I have a lightweight runners build, light green eyes and a solid chin. The chin is something my father often takes family pride in good genetics he says. I leave the room when he brings up that subject. Hes a pretty open guy and doesnt mind sharing a few intimate details about his sons to close friends. Heh, if you dont mind, I can tell you a quick story about that. The earlier one will have to come in time.
My father had invited a few of his poker friends over to watch the Stanley Cup my father played hockey and coached it until he turned 36. Now hes got one of those administrative jobs. Whatever the case, my family is knowledgeable then, and big fans of, hockey. The Stanley Cup was a special occasion.
I have two brothers one is a twin and one is a younger tike. My sister is two years older than me and my twin, Calen (I call him Cal). Anyway, my brothers, dad, and his friends were all sitting in the game room when the word genetics entered into a debate over the fitness of one of the players on the underdog team. I knew then I should have walked out, but I didnt I was only 18 at the time and hadnt learned to do that no matter what the circumstances. Plus, I didnt know what was to come of it!
Now, just to let you know the background of this story. Ive never seen anyone other than my brothers naked within my family. It was just our way. Dad had seen us invariably. It just happened during changing or his wanting to get something from the bathroom while one of us were showering (usually it was something my mother wanted.). It wasnt something completely normal for me (to go prancing naked in front of my brothers or dad), but we just didnt bother joking or talking much about it past the present, of course. So nothing is odd about my family in this except that my dad shares the knowledge he gains through his ability to view and judge. And he judges!
Genetics, he argued vehemently that day, is a necessity. You got to have good genetics to be a good player I dont care how much you practice, Vince!.
Well, Will, replied Mr. Jacobs to my father, I suppose your right, but I think practice and endurance has plenty to do with it too.
That ability comes with the genetics though, said my father, look at my three sons there. Each of them good stock with the Alexander name printed on them!
They all have to practice, Mr. Jacobs points our way. Both he and my father treat their boys as if we were trophies for display. And they made sure we never tarnished.
Practice is over-rated, Vince. Take sex for instance. I felt my face begin to warm with my fathers mention of anything close to the subject. Why, I didnt practice sex no Alexander does! My boys wont either; women will love them!
Now, I dont think you believed me the first time about my dad. Hes a good guy, but, man, he can really embarrass the crap out of me. Id be thankful if hed just be a normal balding, 30-something father! Anyway, here it comes:
Dad pointed straight at me, well, straight at my crotch that is. If you have forgotten, Dad and Mr. Jacobs werent alone. Two other of my dads buddies stared down between my legs too, just not as noticeably. That boy there has a five inch flaccid and balls to match, my father chuckled just a bit to make a point, That unit will teach him everything he needs to know about sex he wont need practice. I was silent. What could I have said? It was a true statement not one Id run around using to make a point with but true. I figured this conversation would fade out and tried to wait for it to finish. Again, I was wrong.
Now, the twin there same genetics. Ive noticed his balls can hang a bit lower. It betters the sperm, ya know?
You wouldnt think any like my father existed in the world, yet someone else did. Mr. Jacobs just sat there and nodded as if it was the pinnacle of my fathers argument. Somehow my father had found the one man in the world that was so straight he could talk about another guys bits while sitting in lounge chairs with a Speedo on and drinking wine coolers and still be straighter than anyone else in the world. I was looking over to my brother now. Calen is my twin and complete opposite. He gets along with my father well. They are both a bit loud, a bit obnoxious, a bit full of themselves, and they thrive on competition and betterment.
Good people with slightly annoying to bullying personalities at times. My brother was one of those who played football, baseball, and wrestling in high school. He plays football now at a university out-of-state. But back to that moment during my eighteenth year:
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