Jeff and the Football Hero by Bill Fore - b4@earthlink.net
I was about 14 when Kirby, his wife and two girls moved in next door. Mother watched the moving men unload the big van through the curtains and made catty comments about their furniture. They were a young couple and some of their stuff was kind of ostentatious, I guess. It was gaudy stuff the newly rich would buy, mother said. Catty comments were mother's specialty. I heard a lot of them when she was on the phone with her girlfriends, and more when she and I sat down to eat. Mother loved to run with her friends, playing bridge, a few other games, and doing a lot of drinking. The "live-out" cook and housekeeper did far more mothering of me than she did.
I pretty much grew up without a father, too. He was a political consultant and was usually off in Washington or some other place helping some idiot politician get elected. Mother said that dad was good at what he did because he was really dirty. She said that he could have found out enough evil stuff to cast doubt on the pope.
Every once in a while my dad would make it into the newspapers. There would be a picture of him standing alongside some big-wig and, on a couple of occasions, it was actually even the president. When dad was home he was either fighting with mom or concocting evil deeds on the phone.
I'd developed my own life with my motley little gang of urchins from school, so my parents and I didn't pay much attention to each other. I was pretty good size for 14... maybe five-nine and a hundred and fifty, lots of building muscles from daily sports and a little weight-lifting, blue eyed, sandy-blond.
Kirby was in the papers and on TV all the time. I loved to watch pro football, and Kirby was the first draft choice and great new running back hope of our so-so pro team. Yes... we lived in a swanky neighborhood in a town I'd better not name... and Kirby's new contract allowed them to buy the snazzy new digs next door. I'm mentioning Kirby, because I was a hero worshipper at the time and had started hearing a lot about his career.
So... I'm playing running back on my 8th grade football team... and this all-time jock hero dude becomes my neighbor. Football was my favorite sport. It was just about my whole life! Basketball was great, but nothing compared to football. It kept my off-blond hair short, kept me in shape, off hard drugs, and from actually joining a gang.
I guess I was kind of a wanna-be delinquent. If it wasn't for my football coach keeping me a little straight and my grades up to a "C" so I could play, I was kind of pissed off at the world and would probably have been a real hellion. Nobody gave a damn about me except, maybe for coach, I guess, so I still got in a lot of trouble.
Shit, man... I wanted to run over and shake Kirby's hand, introduce myself and get his autograph when I first saw him drive up in his wild looking new sports car. But I didn't! I just stared through the curtains at my handsome, tall, dark haired, muscular idol and talked a lot about him to my friends.
I was curious as hell about lots of things, mostly physical... especially about this Kirby guy. Maybe I picked it up from my old lady. Every time I saw movement next door, inside or out, I hid behind the curtains and watched.
Kirby, according to the papers, was almost 9 years older than me. He'd grown up poor and knocked up his high school sweetheart while playing college ball. The twin girls were the result, and I heard that they were now about two. Since he played for the local pro team and they held their practices nearby, Kirby was always home except for summer football camp and away games.
Often, at night, if I was out in the back yard and looked through the fence, I could see Kirby going back and forth between his bedroom and shower. He was clearly naked, but it was so far away my view was only tantalizing and didn't solve any of my curiosities about him. I even bought a cheap pair of binoculars to see better, but the windows were always steamed or the damn binoculars were slightly out of focus.
Slowly I began to realize that Kirby was the vision I now always used in my masturbatory fantasies and that I had stopped trying to get turned on by visions of girls. Nothing much happened in my vision... I just saw him naked. Of course, I still did the macho bullshit talk about girls with my friends and never told any of them about my weird-ass dreams.
They'd lived next door for about eight months. We'd gone through one whole pro season and Kirby was the only bright spot on a hopeless 3-13 team. He did really good and I wanted to tell him so, but we only occasionally said "Hi" out on the street.
A construction crew arrived one day to build a spa in their back yard toward the rear and right next to our fence. At first the distraction bugged me, but as soon as it was installed Kirby and his wife started to use it almost every night. From our darkened upstairs bathroom window I could only see enough to be sure that they were both naked, but I really couldn't see anything more.
On our side of the fence from Kirby's new spa there were some bushes to hide a small storage shed for our yard equipment. One night, when nobody else was at home at my house (or theirs), I crawled into a space behind the bushes and found a perfect place to see right into their spa through a hole (I enlarged) in the wooden fence. I found an old lounge chair mattress, moved some stuff around, and decided to get daringly snoopy the next time they soaked.
Which... turned out to be about a week later, since they'd been out of town.
Dad was in Washington and mother was out at her weekly bridge club meeting. It was kind of cold, a little breezy, and a little late... almost eleven. I'd started going to bed when I realized the spa light had come on. I dressed in some dark blue sweats, put on a big, dark coat, and quietly sneaked to my new hiding spot. I realized I didn't need to be too quiet, since the spa jets made a lot of noise.
It was disappointing. They were having a bit of an argument and all I got to see was Kirby's ass when he sat up on the edge of the spa on my side to cool off, maybe two feet from my eyeballs. I saw his warm, dripping skin, his tan line, the upper edge of his ass crack, and his beautifully muscled, broad back. It was close up and tantalizing, but not satisfying. It was as near as I'd ever gotten to Kirby, and I knew he was naked, but their spat kept the scene from getting sexy.
Easter came. Mom and I had to take a boring trip for a few days to see Dad, and when we got back Kirby and his family were gone. It was probably a month before I had the chance to hide to see something more. By that time I'd created a much better "lair" in the bushes, throwing off the gardener by making it look like a spot for my mom's tired old dog to sleep. As a ruse I'd even put a bowl of water next to the mattress and covered the area with a tarp to protect from rain.
So... Kirby and his wife tubbed again, and I was hidden a few feet away. That time they were really playing around and, gadzooks... I saw Kirby's monster cock. I'd never really seen it soft and my very first view was of a massive hardon as he and his old lady (Amy, he called her) touched and fondled. He never just stood up with it aimed in my direction so I could really see, but I got quite a few minutes of a great side view as he sat on the edge of the opposite side of the spa with Amy stroking the amazing instrument while they kissed. My own probe was trying to drill a hole in the mattress.
That scene even ended with a very athletic fuck! They started with Amy in front of him (blocking my view), and then they ended up going back in the water to create a lot of waves. It was probably more stimulating for what I didn't see but, for me, it was still a very wild thing to watch at such close range.
The next time they tubbed I had to miss the show because dad was home and mother was grinding on me about a new report card and wouldn't let me out of the house.
One warm day I was wearing only shorts and a big T- shirt and dribbling a basketball down the street as I returned from a friends house. Kirby pulled up into their driveway in his hot Corvette, got out, looked at me, smiled, and put up his hands as if waiting for a pass. I passed. He did some fancy dribbling for a few seconds... then, passed it back. I was good with a basketball so I did a little dribbling show of my own before throwing it back to him.
We finally shook hands. "I'm Kirby." "Jeff... next door," I said, motioning to my house. "I know," he smiled. "Seen you around." We exchanged a few words and then he asked if I'd ever like a little game of one-on-one. I smiled, "Sure!" (Maybe too eager.) He got my phone number. "Maybe Saturday, Jeff. The old ball and chain has some 'honey-do' stuff set up, but we could go to the park afterwards."
He wore tight shorts, a form fitting tank, sox and high tops... all with the logo of a company for which he did commercials. Damn, he looked spectacular. As we parted, he grinned, really friendly like. "I'll call ya, Jeff. We'll cook something up."
Saturday afternoon was an absolute dream. It was kind of cool so we both wore sweats... his had the logo and fit like a glove. I rode with him in his beautiful Corvette... we played on my high school playground about a mile away from home, and had to stop every once in a while so Kirby could sign some autographs. It was pretty dizzying stuff for a 15 year old kid to be playing one-on-one with the big football hero.
He took me to eat. It was an actual restaurant and not just a fast food place. Kirby was very cordial and we joked around a lot. I told him every joke I knew from school, and he told me a few he knew... getting raunchier as we talked. He treated me like an equal. I was in heaven.
He ate very special stuff... a broiled chicken breast, steamed veggies, a baked potato, some vegetable soup and iced tea. Why do I tell you this? Because that meal totally changed my life. He told me he ate only a fat-free diet to keep in shape and worked out every day but Sunday, since he was signed for some commercials and was hoping to maybe get into movies after football. "You're either going to look good and be in shape or make your taste buds happy, Jeff. You can't have it both ways very often."
He told me I was a really sharp kid with a good body for my age, and that I should eat the same way if I was going to be a big, hard-bodied stud, too. I rarely got compliments. I could have died on the spot.
We talked a lot. Kirby seemed very interested in me... not like just some jock being nice to the little people. On the way home he told me exactly what he ate for every meal and said he'd be glad to help me with a training program.
He left town the next day and I didn't see him for a month. The papers said he was shooting commercials and on vacation, but Amy was still at home with the kids most of the time.
Then came training and the football season. My mother was totally pissed at me because I was eating only oatmeal, bananas and protein shakes for breakfast, broiled fish, chicken, baked potatoes and veggies for other meals... and being sure I never had any fat. All the clothes I bought were sports clothes with Kirby's sponsor logo on them. I started lifting at school and running my ass off about five miles every day.
My body began to quickly change. Coach was totally impressed. I was absolutely savage on the football field, and even my grades improved.
Probably two or three times I used my little lair to watch Kirby and Amy get it on in their spa. Once, just after the football season was over, my view of their mad, passionate lovemaking was absolutely perfect. I had a chance to memorize the beautiful veins and muscles on Kirby's body and cock as his big, hard probe was slamming into Amy.
I got all the angles, even seeing the action from the rear as they moved around... watching his tight ass muscles squeezing as he thrust, and seeing his dangling balls slap between his legs. I even got a few peeks at his tiny asshole when Amy was tugging at his buns and stretching him open a little bit. I'd already filled my own shorts when I'd watched her suck him off, but that close up view of their long, furious fuck and Kirby's massive weapon got me hot enough to fire again.
I knew I was 7-1/2" hard, fairly thick and cut, but his big cudgel must have been almost 9 inches.
The following Sunday Kirby took me for a spin in his brand new Dodge Viper and we ended up at another restaurant. We must have talked for an hour. He told me I was looking spectacular, and that he'd read in the papers that I'd had a great season. He'd actually bothered to read the little shitty information about high school sports in the back of the sports section and saw the few words written about me? I could have swooned!
Kirby said there was a war between his agent and the team's owner. He told me not to say anything, but that he thought the coach was going to be fired and that he was going to be traded. Kirby said two other teams wanted him and were bidding. I guess I looked shocked and down in the dumps because he told me he wasn't going to move away and would only be gone during the season.
Before that day was over he gave me a big case filled with packets of some special kind of body builders protein mix and said I should take one pack a day with fruit juice.
Shit!
It all happened as he said it would. I rarely saw Kirby during the next year. He was traded. He had become a big enough star so that he was away doing ads, commercials, TV sitcom bits and film stuff a lot.
He and Amy were fighting more and more when he was home. She seemed to be gone with the girls a lot, too. Sometimes it seemed like the once a week maid, the gardener, and the spa serviceman were the only ones that ever showed up next door.
I avidly followed Kirby's career in the newspaper and even started a scrap book about him. He was doing really good for his new team. I was doing good, too... now 17, almost 6 feet tall, all perfectly shaped muscles from daily workouts, fat- free food and the protein mix. I was supposedly very good looking, very popular, the high school football team star, and now a "B" student. I worked out about two hours a day every day, except for Sundays, even during football season.
I was standing in front of the mirror a lot and becoming obsessed with my bod. I know that exercising your cock doesn't make it grow, but something was. For years I'd greased up and used the little cardboard center from a roll of toilet paper to jack off with, but now I couldn't get my hard dick inside the damn thing. I tried a lot of other substitutes, but daily work from two well-greased hands seemed to be best.
Football season was over. I wanted to work, make my own bread and be a little independent but there were no jobs in our ritzy neighborhood. Dad bought me a used classic VW bug on one of his trips home. That meant that I could work, so I got a job as a trainee waiter in one of the restaurants to which Kirby had taken me. I dated a little, but Kirby, his amazing body and that massive cock were still totally enveloping my daily jack-off dreams and I had little real interest in girls.
One night, after work, I saw Kirby's wild Viper in his driveway and some lights on in his house. I wanted to go over and say hello, but Amy didn't seem to like me (or anybody else, for that matter) so I stayed away.
Dad was on one of his trips and mother was away in Key West with her girlfriends for a long weekend. The cook and the housekeeper were never around at night. It was around midnight. I was in the backyard trying to find mother's damn old dog. There were noises coming from Kirby's spa, even though the spa light wasn't on. My little hiding place was kept clean by the gardener "for the dog." I sneaked into the lair to see what was going on. There was enough light to see everything clearly.
Kirby was in the spa all by himself. Amy was nowhere to be seen. I was going to sneak back to the house, thinking that there was nothing to see, when I realized that Kirby was fooling around under the water. It took a while but he finally got too hot and stood up, his big cock sticking up and out from his beautiful, dripping body. He stood, semi-facing me, and slowly began to fist himself as his face tilted toward the sky.
My hand went into my shorts and I started matching him stroke for stroke. Kirby's body was perfection itself. Broad shoulders, beautifully muscled arms, perfect "six-pack" abs, narrow waist, and not an ounce of fat anywhere. The sights I watched were far more stimulating than the stars, I guess. I blew a huge wad all over my shorts.
Soon Kirby stopped and picked up a big bath towel. I thought the show was over, but he spread the towel out across the wide ledge on my side of the tub. Then he laid down on his back, less than two feet from my eyeballs. My view was right above his belly button level and I had a closeup of my hero as he stroked his giant snake and writhed on the edge of the tub. God... did he writhe and put on a show!
What a view! I again began to work on my own sausage as I watched Kirby. He'd pound his cock with both hands for a while, and then one hand would drift over his lower abs, down over his thighs, and then grasp his balls. Sometimes he'd stroke slowly. Sometimes his hand would fly up and down with lightning speed. Often it appeared that he was fingering himself between his wide spread legs as he stroked. I blew my second load just before he blew his first. It was a far more erotic sight than anything my imagination had ever cooked up.
When he finished he dropped back into the water for a while. I felt so messy that I slipped away to the shower to clean up and do an instant re-play. My third explosion of the night went down the drain.
Two days later we met again out front. It was a warm, humid late Spring Florida day. Kirby was again wearing his sponsor's shorts, tank top, sox and sneakers and looked really terrific. It was Sunday... my day off from everything. I was wearing only some work-out shorts, luckily with his sponsor's logo, and had been washing my bug. "Good looking V-dub, Jeff. I had one something like it in high school." I was a little startled because I hadn't seen him coming. We shot the shit for a little while with him even helping me wipe the damn thing dry.
"Hey, Jeff... stand up and let me take a look." I didn't know what he meant, but I stood to look at him. He grinned. "Well, ain't you just the hot young stud?" I smiled while he poured on the compliments about how I was developing. I told Kirby that it was his inspiration, and that seemed to make him feel very good.
He asked if I wanted to go to the ocean. I followed him into his house so he could dig through some of his sponsor's clothes and find me a new swim suit. He told me Amy and the kids were at her parents house. In the next half hour he seemed to openly watch my body while I got nude and tried on all kinds of stuff. I was totally naked between "competition suits" with Kirby constantly prompting me to wear stuff that showed off my "awesome body."
He gave me a whole pile of tank tops, shorts, sox, and even two pair of tennis shoes to take home. Then I pulled a pair of small "logo'd" shorts on over my minimal new swim suit, and hopped into the passenger seat as we cruised to the beach.
We had an absolute blast! I basked in the light of my hero's glory as we played around in the surf while others stopped to watch. Kirby bought some sunscreen and we spread it around on each other a few times to avoid becoming lobsters. My hero actually rubbed the stuff all over my body (except where my little suit was), and then I did the same to him... three times. I rarely got touched, and the sensations were absolutely phenomenal. My hard work in the gym really paid off that day as I wallowed in the approving stares from both women and men.
We found a beachside cafe that didn't require us to be dressed up. We ate, talked up a storm, and didn't get back until near dark. Mother wasn't home. Kirby said I should come over. I followed him into the bathroom. He unconsciously stripped right in front of me. He showered to get the "salty skuzz" off, wrapped himself in a towel, threw me another towel and said I should shower, too. Again, he watched as I stripped and made some nice comments.
We sat around drinking iced tea and gassing. He again took me into his confidence and shared some secrets. Our pro team coach was probably going to get fired after two bad seasons, he said, and there was a big move to get the coach for the team he was playing on. Kirby said he thought he might come back.
I grinned, told him I'd followed everything he'd done, even subscribing to The Sporting News so I could get extra details. I finally even told him that I'd kept a scrap book of his exploits. He beamed. "Geez, Jeff... will you marry me when my divorce is final? Amy never cared that much." I guess I looked startled. He went on to tell me his marriage was over and that Amy wasn't coming back.
It was almost midnight and I had school the next day. "Want to take a tub before you split?" We "tubbed." Naked! I sat a foot or two from my hero as we soaked and talked some more. Kirby never seemed to hide his interest in my body and continued his compliments even noting, while we were toweling dry, that my slightly expanded cock was the perfect size for my body.
(By very careful and repeated measurement, I knew I was now up to 7 inches long, and just under six inches around, using the "wrap the string and then put it on the ruler" method.)
Kirby's mammoth protrusion was clearly slightly expanded, too.
Kirby had to go to LA on business and didn't know when he'd be back. When I was leaving he patted my shoulder. "Maybe someday we can take a trip somewhere, Jeff. I'd like an agent I know in LA to see you."
That was a Sunday beyond my wildest dreams.
It was two weeks before Kirby's Viper was back in the driveway. Dad happened to be home at the time, which I thought would cramp my style, but Kirby came over and I introduced them. Dad, being an avid football fan, was dutifully impressed that I knew Kirby so well. Kirby invited me over after I got off work, saying one of his football buddies was staying for a few days.
That night I met a big, young black guy named Mohammed, whom Kirby called Mo. I was still in my waiter's shirt, but Kirby asked me to show Mo how I'd developed. I pulled off my shirt and picked up about a dozen wonderful comments from both of them.
"How old are you now, Jeff?" I'd just turned 18 a week before. When I told Kirby, he grabbed me, pulled me down over his lap, and began to softly "spank" me. He gave me eighteen light swats on my shorts covered ass with his other hand on my bare back. I laid on his bare legs and his shorts covered lap. For some reason or other it was very erotic.
We talked, and then we tubbed. Mo was in town because their agents were finishing negotiations at the time. They said that if everything went well, there was going to be a big announcement. Mo's body was big, a little thicker than Kirby, shiny chocolate colored skin, a little "veiny" and, to me, very beautiful. I knew I had a 28 inch waist. I'd guess Kirby's at 30, and Mo was probably a 32 and exactly my height... almost exactly 6 feet. He had been Kirby's roommate during the last two football seasons and they said that they had become very close, especially because they both were breaking up with their wives.
That night my visions had a double feature as I jacked off in my sack. Mo seemed very sensual. I'd heard all the rumors about black guys, but Mo's cock appeared to be about my size, uncircumsized, and not quite as thick. I was really glad I'd grown up in the cock department.
Two days later, while I was waiting on tables, I heard the big announcement on the bar TV. Our pro coach had been fired. Kirby, Mo and the coach of the team they'd been playing on had all been hired. I was proud of my hero-buddy as I watched his press conference. He was really cool, warm and funny. The sports announcer said the town was really excited. I knew I was! I wanted to congratulate him when I got off work, but they weren't home so I started to go to bed.
I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom when I heard a noise. I thought it was the jet's on Kirby's spa. There were no lights on in the spa, but the yard lights provided enough illumination so that I could see figures moving around.
I was naked, but I grabbed a big black towel. Dad had left that day and mother had looked pretty stoned when I got home. I knew she'd gone to bed with her bottle. I crept across our dark yard to my lair.
Mo and Kirby were both in the water. They were goofing around and giggling a little. One of them shut off the jets. Mo said, "Ah, that's better." They were sitting side by side facing me. It was clear that they were hugging, with Kirby's hand on Mo's shoulder. Then, Mo leaned over and kissed Kirby... on the mouth, long and fairly hard.
I about blew a gasket!
Their hands appeared to be touching each other under water. "God, I'm hot." It was Kirby's voice. He sat up on the edge of the spa facing me. His cock was obviously as hard as it could get. Mo was in the water right below Kirby. His hands moved up Kirby's legs. They slowly slipped over his abs and chest, finally reaching Kirby's swollen snake.
Not only did Mo start slowly pumping Kirby's cock, but he also started kissing up his leg. Kirby's hands moved over Mo's hard, muscled back and shoulders. I watched in totally shocked amazement as Mo's head slowly moved up the leg and into Kirby's crotch. Kirby was clearly getting sucked off by his pro football rooommate! My hand had found my own cock and I blew a wad after only a few strokes.
I couldn't see everything because Mo's head was in the way of my view, but I could tell by the unmistakable movements and sounds what was happening. Kirby leaned back and Mo stood up. My view was now of Mo's asshole. Once in a while I could actually see the lips on cock action when Mo moved and spread his legs so I could see between them past his dangling balls.
It was impossible for Kirby to lean back because the edge was too narrow on the side of the tub where he was sitting. They moved so that I had a side view. Mo's lips slipped down almost all the way over Kirby's palpitating cock. Sometimes I could see his cheek bulge out and see the outline of Kirby's shaft on the side of his mouth as Mo noisily licked and sucked.
Mo's hands moved erotically over Kirby's chest, nipples, balls, and then slipped between his legs. It was clear that their excitement was building. I couldn't hold back and covered the towel with my second load as I watched them thrashing around in their carnal abandon a few feet away.
Kirby moaned, groaned, and flailed around as Mo's mouth serviced him. Sometimes my vision was blocked by something or other, but most of the time I could clearly see everything they were doing.
My god, Mo ate it!
Kirby clearly blew his load and Mo sucked up every drop. I was astounded! They were undoubtedly athletes in top shape, because they hardly paused a minute to catch their breath before Kirby had Mo laid out on the wide side of the spa... right in front of me. Kirby proceeded to give me the most amazing close-up sucking demonstration I could have ever had.
I'd never really dreamed of doing such a thing with someone, but it was undoubtedly a most wonderful experience for both of them. Mo writhed, Kirby swallowed his huge sword and then, while I dumped my third load of the night, Mo dumped his into Kirby's gullet.
They finally appeared to be winded. They laid in the water again, kissing, hugging and fondling for a while more before they finally toweled each other dry and headed inside.
I just laid in my little lair and wondered at the astounding things I'd just witnessed. My hero, who'd taken me to the ocean, bought me meals, got me naked to try on stuff and given me clothes... my hero sucked and got sucked by his macho pro football teammate. What the hell did this all mean?
Mo left the next day! School was out for the summer but I was playing waiter 40 hours a week and spending two hours a day in the gym. Kirby seemed busy, too, and was rarely home. I knew they were about three weeks away from the start of training. I spent my nights re-living Kirby and Mo's hot tub experiences and pounding my randy prick. My memories were enough to dump two or three loads every night, and for some odd reason I was more horny every day than I'd ever been.
Sunday was my day off. Dad was working on some fool's campaign on the West coast and mother was back in Key West. I was bare ass in the kitchen making oatmeal when I saw Kirby drive the Viper up in our driveway. I found a towel and answered the door. Kirby was grinning, as cordial as could be, looking great and dressed up in different shorts, a cut-off 60's muscle t-shirt, sox and hi-tops all, of course, from his sponsor.
"What're you doing, stud?", he said. I invited him in for some oatmeal and bananas. He patted my ass as he was following me to the kitchen. "Geez, Jeff... I've been missing you. I've been running like hell and you're gone when I get home." We ate in the breakfast nook and shot the shit.
He told me I was becoming the all-time stud, and looking better every time he saw me. I told him he looked spectacular, too. "I've got a big commercial shoot in Hollywood next week, dude. Gotta look my best." He'd been on a tour for a sponsor, had stopped to see his kids, and had spent a week with Mo on an island. I grimaced at Mo's name. He noticed. "What's the matter?" After beating around the bush a while, I finally told him I was jealous. He said that maybe we could go on a trip sometime, too, "if everything works out."
We finished breakfast, changed, and went to the beach. It was an awesome day, with more suntan oiling, more touching and innocent grab-ass, and even a little squeeze or two. As we were driving up the causeway Kirby said he had a big job to do that night. I asked if I could help. He grinned at me, patted my knee, and said he didn't think so. "Don't want to blow your young, impressionable mind!" I told him that nothing would blow my mind.
After changing the subject and hesitating for a minute or two, he said that he had a special feature to do for a film and magazine promotion wearing the sponsor's stuff. He thought they were even going to shoot him in their swimwear. He said he was going to shave almost his whole body, and especially his legs. I was surprised, but he said he always did it just before a modeling gig. "Makes the muscles look better." He patted my knee. "Someday you'll probably do some body modeling, Jeff... and you'll probably shave, too." We talked about how the body builders at the gym all seemed to shave just about everywhere.
We ate at the restaurant where I waitered, which gave me a few extra points with the other staff. Kirby passed out a few autographs before we went home.
That night, in his master bathroom, naked Kirby showered and then showed me how he shaved his entire naked torso. He had some special stuff he put on the skin after shaving to prevent breakouts, and I even helped rub some of the stuff in to his back and then over his calves. He sat on the big drainboard and used the mirror, often asking me if he'd missed any hairs. I helped a little by shaving his lower back and a few hairs on his upper ass cheeks, but he said he didn't want to shake me up so I just watched the rest of the job.
When his legs were done, he rechecked everything, standing and turning in front of the full length mirror. I helped put the lotion on his thighs, with my hands moving dangerously close to his balls as his cock throbbed in response.
When I set the lotion bottle down he paused and looked at me. "I shaved a few hairs off my chest this morning. Would it bug you if I finished the job and shaved my crotch? I should probably wait 'til later." I shook my head. He shrugged. "Might as well learn how it's done, Jeff. You'll be doing it, too, if you do any body modeling."
With that said, I watched, mesmerized, as Kirby slowly and very carefully shaved every hair off of his balls, his inflated cock stem and between his legs. He was very careful, always being sure everything was "even" on both sides and that it looked "natural" as he trimmed down what he called his "pubic patch."
Kirby's cock always seemed to be a little swollen, especially when I was putting the special lotion on his thighs. As soon as he started shaving his balls he got a full erection. My cock was straining in my shorts, too. He showed me how to get the stray hairs off the cock stem, how to trim up the "patch," and then he laid back on the counter, spread his knees wide and put his feet way up on the mirror. He proceeded to painstakingly shave his ass crack and between his legs all the way past his asshole. He watched what he was doing in the mirror. Our eyes met a couple of times as I carefully watched, too.
"Did I miss anything?" I was so choked up with sexual feelings I could hardly talk. I shook my head. He turned and our eyes met again. "This bugging you, Jeff? I've spent my life around naked dudes in locker rooms and gettin' worked over by trainers. I forget sometimes that you're still in high school." "It's great," I said in a hoarse voice.
Kirby laid back on the counter, filled his hands with the special lotion and rubbed the stuff all over his crotch... cock, balls, inner thighs. He was very meticulous, rubbing the stuff up and down his hard cock almost as if he were jacking off. Finally... he raised his legs and greased up his asscrack, even diddling his asshole in the process.
I lost control. Standing there, watching, hypnotized, my cock erupted with little warning and flooded my shorts as my body involuntarily shuddered. Kirby couldn't have missed what happened. Our eyes met yet again. He grinned. "That's what I need to do," he said. He laid back on the counter again and proceeded to jack himself off almost exactly as he'd done on the edge of the hot tub.
Because he was laying in a mirrored alcove, it was almost as if I could look away and still watch. But... I didn't. My eyes were glued on his every move as he stroked himself with one hand while squeezing and stretching his balls, then fingering and then finger probing his asshole with the other. After a minute of violent flailing, groaning and heavy breathing, his cock erupted. Big thick ivory spurts jetted from his pulsing piss-slit to splat on his chest and stomach.
After a few minutes of relaxing, he got up. "Come on, stud, we need a shower." I pulled off my shoes, sox, and my sticky shorts, and followed him into the big step-down shower. We washed each other's back and asscheeks, and then watched each other wash ourselves. Kirby made no attempt to touch me, other than my back, but he watched and prompted me while I soaped up my boner until I pumped out another load. I watched him soap up his groin, probe his ass again, and then stroke himself off for a second time.
Our only real touching was a very long, glorious embrace while wrapped in the towels. He gave me another pair of the sponsors athletic shorts to go home in.
The next day Kirby left for the West coast. That night, after work and the gym, I showered, and then shaved myself just as Kirby had done. Ever since then, at least once a week, even if there's no good reason (like a modeling gig) to get naked in front of anyone else, I shave every part of my bod except for armpits and my "pubic patch."
Kirby says that, after the football season, as soon as there's a break... like Easter vacation... he's taking me for a week in the Carribean, like he did with Mo. Every night, as I lay in my bed and pound my bone, I dream of what I hope we will do together.
-0-
NOTE: This story is from a series we call, "First Encounters of a Close Kind." Look under "Miscellaneous," then "Prolific Authors," the scroll down to "Bill Fore." If you like this story, let me know. Drop an E-mail to b4@earthlink.net. I read each E-mail personally. Many more stories are ready and available. --- Bill Fore