I got through the day's schedule fine, after arriving a little late to the first one, and feeling just a little under-dressed. The prof didn't care what you wore as long as you showed up to class and did the required reading. But I did feel just a little uncomfortable wearing Rob's mesh undies and his loose "swishy" shorts.
I daydreamed most of the way through the lecture about what he meant by a "full report." I imagined a fashion show runway with hot models strutting their scrawny, but toned bodies down the catwalk in a myriad of the tiniest underwear... their front pouches barely containing their genitals, each step forward pushing their balls left then right.
I let my imagination soar a little too long, and soon I felt my cock stir. I had to adjust my junk to relieve the growing pressure of my penis which was no longer fitting so neatly into the front pouch. The texture of the mesh felt alien, but they did breathe well, so my balls weren't as sweaty as they usually got. That was a plus. I tried to remember to tell Rob about it. He'd probably get off after hearing about how horny these briefs made me all day.
I left that class pretty aroused. My cock was never going to fit tucked down into the pouch, it was sticking almost straight up and about an inch past the elastic waistband. I kept my tee shirt untucked and down far enough to cover it. I had to remind myself that strutting down the hallways in the dorm was one thing, but my cock had a way of attracting attention, and this academic building's corridor wasn't the place.
I managed to make it to the restroom down the hall. I ducked in and went straight to the urinal against the wall. Closing my eyes, I prayed that draining my bladder might relieve the pressure a little. I pulled out my dick and aimed it into the porcelain, waiting a moment to see if the pee would make it past my erection. I heard a quiet gasp nearby, and opened my eyes, to discover a guy two urinals down had caught sight of my "problem" and had verbalized his shock involuntarily. He was embarrassed for me, but he could hardly look away. His eyes seemed trapped, darting from the little bit of the neon green mesh underwear to my now raging hard on, and up to my eyes. His brain was clearly stalled, and I could tell he was trying to decide in a flash of wonder what if anything he should or could say.
"Oh, shut the fuck up, man. I don't have the patience today, alright?" I closed my eyes again, tried to focus on peeing, and forget he was there.
Thankfully, he stayed silent, and eventually he flushed and departed. Before long, I was able to pee, and fit my dick back into their place. As I washed up, I looked down and it looked almost like I was free-balling. These shorts -- with these briefs -- left a definite dick-print in front. I'd have to remember to tell Rob that too.
The next classes went well, and as long as I didn't daydream too much, I was pretty adept at hiding my arousal. I just hoped I could get back to the dorm and get my own clothes out of the laundry. Then, mercifully -- the weekend.
By the time we all gathered in the cafeteria for supper together the panic had subsided and things were starting to feel more normal. I forgot about the weird mesh underwear and my dick-print, and just relaxed. It was probably the extra shot of testosterone up my ass, but I was feeling more confident than ever.
"Hey, Hitch, I gotta favor to ask," Danny blurted out as soon as I sat down. "The whole wrestling team is leaving tonight for an overnight trip to a tournament a few hours away. We'll be gone tonight and all day tomorrow, and the guy who usually comes as the team manager is really sick, so coach asked me to see if I could get someone to fill in."
"Uhh... I have no idea what your manager does..."
"It's not a big deal, and since I'm posing for your art class next Monday, I figure you owe me a favor, and in any case I already told him you'd do it. We leave in a half hour."
I must have stopped chewing whatever was in my mouth and just gaped at him in disbelief, because his eyes opened wide and he continued, "But I already packed for you, I mean ... it was the least I could do after messing up your laundry today, and I've got you assigned to my room, so we can hang out, and you know, sleep together?"
Despite my protests, it seemed the deal was done, and as I thought about it, there could be worse things than being stuck all day in the bus with the wrestling team, hanging out in their locker room, and ... well ... as I gulped the rest of my dinner down, my dick decided for me.
I stood up to carry my tray back to the dish room, and Danny said, "your wood tells me you're as excited about this as I am!" I glanced down and tried to hold the tray in a way that would hide the huge bulge I was sporting.
We walked quickly to the main entrance to the building where the team bus was waiting to pick up the wrestlers at the appointed hour. About12--15 of the guys were already on the bus, and the coach was standing on the sidewalk next to the door with his clipboard. He checked off our names and handed me a manilla folder.
"Here's a simple run-down of what Dave normally does for us, I asked him to jot a few notes, and there's also the original job description from my files in there, but I haven't looked at it in years. I'm sure you'll be able to handle it." He smiled warmly at me as we climbed up into the bus. "Danny will show you the ropes," he called as we looked into the bus to find some seats.
Danny stood at the front of the bus and whistled to get the guys' attention. As it quieted, he announced, "guys, this is Hitch. He's taking Dave's place as our road crew, so give him a break, okay?"
A hearty round of greetings assailed our ears as we pressed through the narrow aisle to find seats. It was really warm on board, and I was trying hard not to stare at the wrestlers, each one sexier than the next, the thick necks, and bulging biceps. It appeared that they intentionally wore clothing two sizes too small, to show off their muscles. I also was hit by the strong sweaty smell of men. Clearly some of them -- maybe most of them -- had been to the gym to work out this afternoon, and hadn't showered since. And since it was so warm, there was no need for layers of clothing. Most were wearing tanks or sleeveless tees and shorts.
The smell was overpowering, and wonderful. Instantly my cock sprang to full attention. As I brushed past the guys, rubbing briefly against their elbows in the aisle, their knees, or thighs, my boner was bouncing left and right and feeling more and more aroused.
About half-way down the aisle Danny stopped, blocking my way and started a conversation with someone I couldn't see yet. My hands were full of the bags Danny had packed and the folder the coach handed me, so my hardon was free to wobble and explore. My crotch was pressed into Danny's backside, and I was sure he could feel my "situation" so I ground myself forcefully against his ass as he chatted.
"Hitch, I want you to meet Brock, our team captain. He wrestles 185, he's a senior, and he calls the shots." I leaned over Danny's back, reached out my hand and shook Brock's hand. After a firm handshake and a little chit chat, he said, "Guys, why don't you sit across the aisle so we can talk about a few things about the tournament?" A quick look proved that the opposite seats were taken. "Tim. Swank, shove off. I need you to move." Brock demanded. Not unkindly, but in a tone that spoke volumes for this guy's natural leadership skills and unimpeachable authority.
As we waited for the seats to clear for us, I just breathed the warm man-smell and gently rubbed my meat stick into Danny's backside a few moments. I took a seat, and Danny stowed the bags in the overhead rack.
I began to skim through the folder coach had handed me.
I saw an old photocopy that must be the job description he mentioned. Parts were crossed off, others items had hand-written notes in the margins. It seemed the job had changed a lot over the years: • Clean the mats every day before practice (haul bucket of water up and down two flights of stairs -- fill it with scalding hot water and bleach) • Wash singlets, uniforms, towels (take inventory and organize them too) --"no bleach" scribbled in "on lycra" • Fetch ice and be ready to perform first aid (do this at least ONCE a day) -- crossed out, with "trainer" written in. • Organize files for coach • Keep score • Keep up with every single thing, including wrestlers' belongings. • Be able to change the tape or battery in a video camera in 10 seconds flat. • Tolerate sexual harassment • Learn the hand signals of a referee and learn all wrestling moves -- and "so you know when the ref misses anything to get your wrestler more points."
I started to leaf through to the other pages when I felt the bus rumble into motion, and we began to leave campus. Brock then said, "Dan and Hitch, I'll want to go over a few things in a bit." And he went forward to talk to coach.
I looked to the rear of the bus and saw this was the kind that had a tiny toilet on board. And, while not every seat was filled, most were, and there were muscled wrestlers in various states of almost undress everywhere I looked.
"Comfy?" Danny asked, a huge smile across his face.
"Yeah, except for this bus is really hot, smells of sweaty wrestlers, it's going to be hard to concentrate on much until I take care of a very big problem."
Danny reached over to my lap, grabbed the bulge and gave a good squeeze, saying, "in just a bit you'll have my full attention."
When he leaned away, I saw there was now a rather obvious wet spot of precum oozing from my dick's tip. The gray shorts were covering my junk, but here was no way to disguise my arousal.
Suddenly, the bus got quiet as the coach started to speak from the front over the p.a. system. He made some announcements and explained his expectations for the team. Danny promptly slipped his hand into my shorts and began to jack me. I was trying to pay attention to the coach, fearing there might be some mention of me subbing for the sick manager, or some expectation to say something, but the hand job Danny was giving me seemed to turn my ears onto mute. I could see the man's mouth moving, but all I could feel was the slow and gentle up and down of his grip on my dick.
No one could see directly into my side of the seat, but still I wasn't sure if this was an appropriate place for such a public display, so I glanced warningly at Danny. He just smiled and looked back at the coach while he jerked me. I decided that if he was so relaxed about this, then I should be too. I slipped my free hand behind and down into my shorts so I could feel my ass hole, sitting on that hand, and Danny provided the pounding in front I'd been waiting all day for.
I got one finger pretty far up and started to feel like I might go over the top when Danny stopped abruptly and pulled his hand out and began to speak. My ears took a few seconds to switch back on. My finger remained firmly planted up my ass.
"... and we all hope he feels better soon, but in his absence, please welcome my roommate Hitch, who will be filling in this weekend." He then pulled me to my feet so the rest of the guys who had boarded after we did could see me. I was profoundly glad that there was the back of the seat in front to shield my huge tent in my shorts with a dark gray wet spot right at the tip of my stiff prick.
We sat back down, and after checking briefly, Danny resumed his handiwork in my pants. This time he turned to face the back of the bus, squatting in the seat, his left hand now in my lap, making its moves. He made small talk with the guys in the seat behind us, laughing and carrying on, all the while stroking my rod smoothly up and down. I wish I could tell you what they were talking about, but my ears again shut down and the blood rushed through my head. Waves of pleasure began to emanate from my root, where my finger was now pressing firmly on my prostrate.
"Okay, guys, I need a few minutes," came Brock's voice from behind, as he made his way back to his seat, just across from ours. But his eyes locked on the scene: my face frozen in pleasure, and Danny's arm clearly positioned in my crotch. Danny didn't miss a stroke. And on the next downward motion I was over the edge, past the point of no return, and his firm grip began to get slick as my day's load of cum spurted forcefully against his forearm and into my gray shorts. He pulled his arm out, and my cock now erupted freely into the air a few more times.
The road noise of the bus covered me as I cried out in ecstacy. I slipped my hand out from behind me, out of my shorts, my middle finger slick from my ass, closed my eyes, and collapsed into the seat.
I opened my eys and saw to my horror that Brock was still in the same position, watching Danny and I, and I was sporting a huge wet spot on my shorts, plus some gobs of cum had reached my chest, and the seat back over my shoulder.
"When you're ready..." Brock began, "I really need your attention."
"Right, cap'n," Danno raised his arm in a mock salute, with my very sticky cum smear all across his muscled forearm. Brock smiled as he sat back in the seats across the aisle. He sat so he could watch as we obviously had some cleaning up to do.
Danny stood up and took one of the bags from the rack. He pulled out a tee shirt and shorts and dropped them onto the seat. He then reached over and began to pull my shirt off. I let him. He used it to casually wipe the cum gobs from the back of the seat, and them dropped it to the floor. I slumped down in the seats and pulled off the gooey shorts, and underwear and pulled on the clean shirt and shorts, not bothering with underwear.
Danny took a seat next to Brock in the row across the aisle, and I slipped into the aisle, kneeling on the floor, and leaned over, resting my chest and arms across Danny's legs. All around us guys were listening to their music, playing little portable video games, and just generally horsing around and relaxing as we drove.
"Before we get down to business, I want to commend you, Danny for helping your roommate out in his time of need." Brock started. "I had heard some rumors round campus about a new guy with a huge cock, but I gotta confess, seeing is believing! But I take my responsibilities as captain very seriously, and we have some things to go over to ensure that this tournament runs smoothly." He then proceeded to explain what he needed me to do in a calm and confident manner. My duties were pretty simple, and since I was new, he would keep it to the bare necessities. There were other wrestlers with more experience on the team that could handle the scoring and there would be a tournament trainer staff to handle the first aid responsibilities. But he really needed a non-team member to keep track of the team's things before and during the match, make sure everyone had what they needed tonight at the hotel and tomorrow during the meet. He explained the details, I asked a few questions, and we generally got it all sorted out. Danny left me alone for a bit to go to the back of the bus and take a piss, so I sat next to Brock and we talked a while.
He gave me the scoop on some of the guys I'd need to watch out for. "Most of the guys are cool" he said, "and a few are gay, a few go both ways, and coach has worked hard to create a team that gets along." He explained that a few years ago there was quite a storm of controversy, some hazing, some guys had been beaten up pretty bad, and charges filed. One of the assistant coaches was fired, and since then, as long as they didn't make it into a big issue, they agreed to get along -- for the sake of the team. And, of course the coach had laid down the law about any harassment and the dire consequences.
It seemed the understanding was that any sexual activity needed to be consensual and invisible, meaning the coach didn't want to know about it. "Coach especially objects to anything that distracted from the focus of being the best wrestling team we could be." By the end of the twenty minutes or so I had the impression that Brock was a really level-headed and smart guy, and we would get along fine.
Danny returned, and sat aggressively down on my lap. "Did you give him the low-down, cap'n?" he smiled.
"He'll do fine," Brock assured him.
We returned to our seats. Danny said, "You should know that the guys are pretty tolerant, but mostly they're just horny meat-head guys with incredible bodies and they love to get their rocks off."
"Well, after hard workouts, wrestling in skimpy skin-tight outfits for hours, what else could they be thinking?" I asked.
Just then, a guy with fire-red hair popped his head over the seat and said, "coach wants to see Hitch in the front of the bus."
I made my way to the front, getting my ass slapped by almost everyone as I passed. Some were slapping really hard, others just gave a little tap, some gave a gentle, but serious squeeze. I pretended not to notice, thinking that it wasn't that big a deal, and anyway, I needed to see the coach. Just as I reached the front someone pulled my shorts down below my knees, and as I wasn't wearing anything else, the guys behind me -- everyone on the bus -- got a good look at my ass as I bent over to grab them back up. And the roar of laughter made the coach look around, just in time to see me tucking my cock back into the loose gym shorts. He grinned and raised one fist into the air, and magically, within a second or so, the guys were silent. I was impressed.
Without raising his voice much above a normal tone he gently spoke, "Give Hitch a break, guys, we've got some serious matches ahead of us tomorrow, and I don't want any distractions. Understood?"
And like robots, each and every guy on the bus responded as one, "Understood, coach!"
I slipped into the empty seat across from coach, my face still red from the attention, but tried to remain calm.
"I understand you are an art major." He looked directly at me.
"That's right, coach." I maintained eye contact.
"A lot of the guys on the team study a variety of things in college, but I've never had one from the art department." He looked down at his sheaf of papers. "Are you any good with a camera?"
"I've been told so, yes. I'm looking forward to a photography course next semester, but I'm comfortable with a camera."
"Would you be willing to operate the team camera tomorrow? Usually I have Tim do that, but since we're short-handed this trip, I asked him to sit at the score book."
"Sure, I'd be happy to do that, coach."
"Good. Now here's the main thing I need you to look after for me. When we arrive at the motel, each room will have four guys. Here's the list. The motel staff will help you check them into each room, and I need you to make a note of their room numbers on this sheet." He then explained that the luggage would be brought to the rooms by the motel staff based on my checklist, since each team member's bags had their team number on it.
"Then, tomorrow as we board the bus to go over to campus, all those bags need to go back under the bus and the wrestling equipment, uniforms, etc need to be brought to our locker room. I need you to check out their gear. Here's that checklist, and where you'll mark that each guy has his gear. At the end of the tournament, check here as they hand in their stuff."
"Sounds pretty clear, coach." I said.
"Yeah, it should go smoothly, but with these guys, poor slobs, there's always a few that would lose their own heads if they weren't attached," he chuckled. "Then, during the matches themselves, I need you to find a position to capture as much of the action as possible. Here's the camera bag. I'll be using the footage to review the matches with the guys later."
Now, with my hands full of a big camera bag and two sets of checklists papers, I turned to make my way back to Danny. So, of course the first guy I passed pulled my shorts down again, and with no way to do anything, I pushed my way -- bare-assed, balls swinging freely, my shorts down below my knees -- to my seat.
"Well, dude," Danny smirked, and took the camera bag from me so I could pull up my shorts. "It seems the team has accepted you. That is as close to hazing as we're allowed anymore."
"At least while the coach is concerned," Brock added with a smile.