AWAKENING OF INNOCENCE
Part Three, Hard Evidence
I did sleep, for a couple of hours, but it didn't seem to help. I woke up still feeling restless and worried. Deciding to jog, I ran toward the school, hoping to clear my mind, but it was hopeless. Tired and sweaty, I took a breather in some shade behind the gymnasium.
Lying on the grass, looking up at the sky, I heard the sound of a basketball being bounced off the side of the gym. Curious to see who it was, I walked toward the sound.
As I came around the corner, I saw Sergeant Ron in green sweatshirt and shorts, pretending he was in the middle of a hard and fast game of basketball. I laughed when I saw how funny he looked fending off imaginary opponents and responding to the invisible crowd's cheers when he made a basket. I watched for a while longer. Then, seeing me, he came over, stretching out on the ground.
"What are you doing back up here?" he asked, slightly winded. "Haven't you had enough of this place?" I looked away, telling him I'd been jogging. He continued to look at me and then smiled. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You look more than tired. Are you worried about something?"
I wanted to tell him what was bothering me, but I didn't see how he could understand it or give me any help. Instead, I said nothing, stretching out on the ground next to him, folding my arms over my face.
"Why are you here so late?" I asked. He explained it was his turn to patrol the campus all night and that he was letting off steam before his shift began. Suddenly I got a whiff of my underarms.
"Yuck," I exclaimed as if I were gagging. "Sorry I smell so bad."
"That's okay," he replied. "I probably smell a little myself, but it's just about time for me to shower and start my rounds. You want to go with me?"
"Sure," I replied, "why not?"
Ron unlocked the gym and the two of us went down to the basement where the workout and locker rooms were.
"I'll get a quick shower," he said, going into the supply room. "Then we can check out the other buildings and make sure they're secure for the night." He looked for a towel, but they were all locked up. He seemed disappointed, so I offered to let him use my towel, going over to my locker and getting it.
"If I had two towels," I commented, searching for an additional one, "I'd take a shower myself. I feel so sweaty."
"We could use the same towel," I heard him suggest. "If you're willing."
Looking at him a moment, it crossed my mind I'd get to see him naked. I was tempted by the prospect. "Well, all right," I said. "Let's go."
We undressed by my locker. Neither of us had much on, so it was quick. I had on a sweaty tank top with grass sticking to it, a pair of jogging shorts, and an old jockstrap which sagged badly, barely holding my meat. He had on a sweatshirt, cutoffs, and some funny looking bikini underwear with little designs printed on them. Looking at them, I asked if they were words.
"Well, I don't know," Ron replied, blushing slightly. Then quickly slipping them off, he tossed them at my face. "What do you think?"
Catching them against my face, I looked at them but couldn't tell. Holding them closer to my eyes, I noticed the warm scent of his groin coming from them, filling my nostrils with a combination of sweat mixed with the warm, musky scent of his crotch.
At first I was repelled, but at the same time felt a strong urge to press them to my nostrils. But I stopped myself, confused by my reaction. He interrupted my fantasy, popping me with the towel as he headed toward the showers. Following him, I felt my dick bouncing against my thighs, suddenly realizing it was swollen more noticeably than usual.
When we walked into the showers, Ron stood under the shower head in the center of the room. I stood next to him, surprised that he didn't seem to notice the size of my dick. Standing closer to him, I began soaping my body and, really for the first time, got a good look at his crotch.
His dick wasn't as big as mine, but nothing to be ashamed of. Of course, neither of us was hard, but mine was swollen, and I suspect his was too. His balls were pretty big and heavy looking. They didn't move much until he walked. Then they seemed even larger, shifting from side to side.
Overall, I thought his body was great, especially for a guy his age. Of course, he was really not much older than me or my classmates, maybe three, four years.
The head of his dick was large, but partially covered, uncircumsized, or uncut as he called it. To me, that was unusual. Most boys I knew were cut, but that made it even more interesting. Watching as he forced back the foreskin, soaping and washing the head, I was surprised to hear myself ask if it hurt to do that. Ron only smiled.
"No," he said, pushing it back and forth over the swelling pink knob. "Actually it feels kind of good, but if I do it too long, it becomes a problem. I get a hard on." Then he looked at me and smiled, letting it sway out from his body.
I didn't say anything, but I could tell it'd gotten bigger already. By the time we finished our showers, it'd doubled in size but, I think, still soft. Again, I was disappointed he didn't say anything about mine. I'd thought it was also conspicuously full and showy.
When we returned to my locker, dripping water, he picked up the only towel we had, offering it to me first, but I said no, to go ahead and dry himself. Pausing only a moment, he began to dry off my back.
Surprised at first, I said nothing, actually enjoying the pressure of his hand sliding the towel against my back. Standing there, I soon realized my dick was swelling. I didn't have to look. I could feel it inching slowly out from my groin.
Neither of us said anything. I thought he'd eventually give me the towel to finish drying off, but he didn't. He moved the towel down into the small of my back, and then began drying the back of my legs, moving occasionally up over the cheeks of my butt.
My body stiffened slightly from the sensation. I was used to being looked at naked, but not touched in this way. Still, I admit it kind of turned me on. I held my hand over my dick as he turned me around, expecting him to offer to dry it off too, but he didn't.
Instead, he began to dry his own body off. I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there, watching him. Occasionally looking at me, he eventually stopped drying himself and, a faint smile crossing his face, handed me the towel, obviously inviting me to dry him off.
My hand began to shake as soon as I felt his back muscles ripple under the pressure of my hand moving repeatedly over his back and down his spine. I loved the feeling of his muscles sliding beneath my hand but, holding my breath, I tried to remain controlled. That only made it worse.
Soon feeling weak, realizing my heart was beating very fast. I started to sweat. I was willing to keep going, but afraid I wasn't going to be able to, I confessed to him I felt as though I was going to pass out.
Remaining calm, he took the towel from me, suggesting I go into the workout room and lie down on one of the wrestling mats piled in the corner. Picking up my shorts, I held them in front of me as I went into the dimly-lit room.
Lying on the mats, I closed my eyes, trying to sort out what was happening. I couldn't understand all this. Things were happening so fast, things I was enjoying, but yet threatened by. Maybe I was afraid I'd do something stupid, something I'd never dreamed of doing, at least before yesterday's encounter with Bart.
Ron was still in the locker room. I could hear him humming a song while he shaved. Soon my heart rate came down to normal and, by the time he came into the room carrying his uniform, I felt much better. As he took off the towel, facing me, my eyes fell to his crotch. I heard him ask how I felt.
Looking up at him, I nodded and smiled. He looked down at me. I couldn't quite make out the look on his face, but it seemed quite serious. The room had gotten darker as the sun went down, only the light from the shower streamed across my body. Squatting next to me, his legs parting, he asked what I was thinking.
For some reason, the image of what I'd let Bart do to me the day suddenly flooded my mind. I wanted so badly to confess to someone I knew I could trust, someone like Sergeant Ron. But I didn't know how to begin. I sat of up, my hands over my eyes. We said nothing, but I felt his body against mine as he sat beside me, both of us naked, putting his arm around my shoulders.
Trying to comfort me, he pulled my head against his damp chest as he took me in his arms. I could feel his full, muscular pecs beneath my cheek and wanted badly to turn toward them, eager to let my lips move against their hard nips, but I was afraid he wouldn't like it, and I didn't want to make another mistake. I'd caused myself enough problems yesterday.
Then I felt his warm hand moving over my back, this time with no towel between us. Loving the skin to skin contact, I relaxed against his body, gladly accepting the sensation. In a way, however, it was torture for me to smell and feel the warmth of his skin against mine. I acknowledged the feelings to myself, but still, I didn't know what to do with them.
Up until my encounter with Bart, I'd been content to have my body, especially my dick, admired by other guys, but certainly with no physical contact. But that encounter had aroused in me some desires and feelings I hadn't known were there.
While afraid of them, I had a strong desire to feel them again and explore them more, not with Bart, but perhaps with someone else, someone like Ron. I thought about it but no, I didn't think he'd probably go for that, so I decided I'd better not get my hopes up.
While I wrestled with these thoughts, I felt Ron's hand moving lightly over my chest and stomach, but stopping just short of my pubic hair. When he finally spoke, his voice was strangely emotional.
"I hate to leave now," he said softly, his lips grazing my neck as he spoke, "but I have to check the other buildings. If you want, you stay here and rest. I won't be gone very long." He started to say something else, but stopped, hesitating.
Then, reaching for his uniform shirt, he sat up on the edge of the mats and, slipping it on, took something out of the pocket, looked at it, and then, tossing it on top of his gym bag on the floor, put on his pants. Shortly after that, he left, this time going commando.
I laid there for a while, thinking about the last two days and still fretting over what I was going to do about Bart. I didn't know what time it was, but I did know it was dark and I was naked and getting cold. I sat up, looking around the room, but saw nothing to cover with.
Then I noticed what appeared to be Ron's underwear, crumpled on the floor next to his gym bag. I could barely make out the funny designs. Curious, I leaned over and picked them up and, as I did, noticed something on top of the bag. It looked like a wad of string. Then as I looked closer, I caught sight what looked like a blue rock of some kind tangled up in it.
Picking it up, thinking it was a bracelet of some kind, I stretched it out and fitted it over my wrist to make sure. Somehow it looked familiar, but I'd never noticed Sergeant Ron wearing a bracelet before. He didn't seem the type. Then, looking at it more, it hit me. It looked like the bracelet Bart had on yesterday in the bathroom. But if it were Bart's bracelet, why did Ron have it in his pocket?
to be continued . . . . .