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I hope you enjoy this story, which concerns the sexual awakening and development of Jody through his college years and early career in the Navy. To add realism to the story, much of the story is set in real cities, college campuses, Naval bases, and places of business. No implication that these places are accepting of homosexuality is implied. Should you visit any of them, please maintain normal caution and do not assume you will be accepted.
This story is the backstory of a character who will be included in a book to be published in the Fall, 2018, titled The Deputy Boys Book 1: Gary's Senior Year. Jody's story is entirely separate from this book, although he is a character in that book. Without further ado, enjoy Jody, the Team, and the Navy!
Kenneth Kirk
Jody, the Team, and the Navy
Chapter 1
Hi, my name is Jody Di Franco and this is my backstory. I appear as a character in the Deputy Boys series of erotic books by Kenneth Kirk, available on Amazon in paperback or Kindle e-version. If you like what you read here, look at that series for more of my sexual adventures.
I was born September 10, 1951 to Peter Di Franco, a second lieutenant in the US Navy, and his wife Barbara, an RN who usually worked at the base hospital wherever Dad was stationed. At the time of my birth, Dad was on an aircraft cruiser somewhere in the Pacific Ocean where he flew bombing runs over Korea. While Dad was away preserving freedom, Mom lived with her mother in the big old house where she grew up. Mom married young and was barely 19 when she had me. She had a little sister Harriet who was only 11 when I joined the family. Of course, she still lived with Granny, too, and she became the go-to baby sitter when Mom needed one. We all lived in Sylva, a tiny town in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains in North Carolina not far from the Cherokee Reservation and the national park. Before I had any firm memories, we moved to Pensacola, Florida, where Dad was stationed after the Armistice ended the Korean War.
I attended kindergarten in Pensacola, 1st and 2nd grade in Jacksonville, and 3rd through 5th in Norfolk, Virginia. Then Dad retired at the rank of Commander and we moved to Charlotte, North Carolina, because he got a job flying for Piedmont Airlines out of Charlotte. It was also only about three hours from Granny and Aunt Harriet in Sylva. That was cool because I got to spend quite a bit of time in the mountains during the summers of junior and senior high school.
It was on those long summer vacations that I got to know my little cousin Gary, who is six years younger than me. His jerk of a father had dumped Harriet as soon as he could after Gary was born. It had been a shotgun wedding since that's what you did if you got preggers during the 1950's. So, Gary grew up without a dad or brother or any other guy in his life much. I guess I was the only older guy in his life. I could tell he looked up to me a lot. He'd follow me anywhere, but that was okay because I didn't have anyone else to hang out with there either.
My big sport turned out to be baseball. I'm not sure why, but I could hit pitches that most other guys would miss. I had a good trajectory on my hits, too. By the time I was playing in high school, I could be counted on to hit the ball in a good line driver with no easy ground-outs or pop-ups. Well, very few, anyhow. I didn't hit but a couple of home runs, but I could often bring a couple of runners home or make it to second base myself with a long hit into the outfield.
When I was in junior high I became aware that I was a little different from all the other boys. I liked girls as much as anyone else, I think, but I found myself noticing certain other guys in a way that I instinctively knew was unusual and, therefore, dangerous. When I was around a more masculine guy, I found myself mesmerized by his physicality. I would become aware of the curve of his butt or the stretch of his shirt across his pecs or the energy in the way he walked and moved. Sometimes I would also become aware of how his clothes bunched up or wrinkled or bulged out in that special area below his belt and above his legs. I would watch to see how the bulge appeared when he sat down or how it moved when he walked toward me. If the guy was especially masculine or his pants were especially revealing or, best of all, if the bulge was unusually large, I would find it almost impossible to look anywhere other than his crotch. I would become transfixed and oblivious to everything else going on around me. This was not always a good thing.
One summer afternoon when I was 14, my cousin Gary and I were at the local pool in Sylva when a couple of high school Harrys came into the pool area. One of them was wearing a pair of trunks that fit like street shorts with a hem that was an inch below his crotch. He was rather cute and I saw him before I saw his friend. I strained to see the bulge in his not-very-revealing trunks, so I looked for several seconds before I gave up. It was only then that I noticed his friend walking a couple of steps behind. Oh my God! The friend was tall with a thin torso, but good pecs and relatively big biceps. He had a deep tan and longish sun-bleached hair. He gave a beautiful, toothy smile to a couple of girls sitting at a table as he walked by. Even with all these lovely qualities, it was lower down that he carried his greatest attribute. Barely hidden in a pair of snow-white, low-cut, brief-style trunks was the most substantial bulge I had yet seen anywhere. I was totally drawn to the guy and I had to mentally restrain myself from running to him. As the two passed Gary and me, I saw the profile of the bulge, which curved out from the vee between his legs a couple of inches as it snaked up to the waistband, where I swear I could see the corona of his cockhead make its own bulge beyond the bulge created by the cock shaft.
The other guy went to the low diving board and bounced a couple of times before diving into the pool. The whole time that was happening, my eyes were fixed on the nylon-covered dickmeat the tanned blonde so unabashedly displayed to the high-school Harriets ... and me. Holy shit! When he bounced on the diving board, I watched like a hawk to see if the cockhead would slip past the waistband, but of course, it didn't. Gracefully, he dove into the pool and into my secret fantasies. Shit, he lifted himself out of the pool at the ladder right in front of Gary and me! The sight of his arm muscles flexing and his flat stomach rising out of the pool drove me crazy. When his skin-tight white trunks bursting with firm prime boymeat came into view, water dripping off everywhere, I stopped breathing. Where the nylon fabric was stretched thinnest across the front of his cock, I swear I could see pink through the white! It took no imagination to see that he was thickly endowed and circumcised, wearing his cock straight up the middle with two nice orbs resting in the pouch beneath it. I'm sure my mouth dropped open as he stepped onto the concrete and walked across my field of vision, again showing the profile of his substantial prick as he returned to the diving board. After another dive, he repeated his pattern and I noticed Gary also watching closely. Glancing around, I could see that almost everyone had their eyes glued to this vision. This time he didn't go back to the low board, but climbed the ladder on the structure supporting the ten-foot platform. From my vantage point, I could see the movement of his crotch from left to right as he lifted his legs to take each step on the ladder. As he walked out toward the end of the platform, I think my heart officially stopped. His crotch as he bounced around before diving was indescribably erotic. His dive was graceful and fluid as he jumped upward, bent into a sharp angle (tight buns momentarily pointed at Heaven), and arched out from the platform to split the surface of the pool with his outstretched arms. I was more out of breath than he was! As this vision came out of the water, several onlookers applauded and yelled encouragement, causing him to give the entire crowd (including me) a happy smile and a slight nod. Again, he walked across in front of me and began climbing the ladder once more.
Suddenly from right behind me a low voice growled, "What the hell you looking at, kid?"
Startled out of my trance, I looked to the side where I recognized my idol's buddy glaring at me. Had he realized I was watching his friend out of lust rather than admiration for his diving skills? Would he hit me? Would he tell anyone the dark truth about me? I didn't know what to say, but I knew I couldn't let him know that truth. My fear came up from my stomach like vomit, clogging my throat and preventing me from speaking.
My accuser's eyes narrowed and he grabbed my shoulder roughly, twisting me a little so I more nearly faced him. "I said," he growled more threateningly, "what the hell are you looking at?"
My brain was running 90 miles an hour as I evaluated potential answers. "Uh," I started hesitantly.
"Uh, what?" he derided me.
"I'm, uh, just watching, uh, your friend's, uh, great diving," I stammered.
He squeezed my shoulder hard. "Just be sure that's all you're looking at!"
"Uh, sure," I promised.
With another mean glare and strong squeeze, he went away. I was seriously unnerved by this nasty encounter, but as I looked back at the vision of masculine beauty high above me, I was again transfixed as he executed another amazing dive.
Gary had not spoken during my altercation with the `friend,' but after that dive, he tapped my elbow. "Let's get some ice cream," he said.
Reluctant to leave our vantage point, but grateful to get away before the `friend' got even more hostile, I nodded. We rose, stuffed our towels into the canvas bag Grandma had given us, and padded through the gate to our bikes chained in the bike rack. Neither Gary nor I ever mentioned the incident, but it stayed vividly in my head for years. After that afternoon, I never lacked for a potent fantasy. I must have beat off a thousand times to the flickering images of that almost transparent white suit straining to cover an indecently huge cock and balls. The incident also showed me how much trouble I could stir up just by looking too long at a guy.
I was too short for basketball and too light-weight for football but seemed to be built okay for baseball. From 6th grade on, I was a passable shortstop and a good hitter. There were several guys on the team and some of the other athletes (football players and wrestlers mostly) that I found attractive. My natural instinct was to just stare at them whenever they happened to be in view, especially if we were in the locker room or, better yet, the showers. During junior high I got caught a couple of times by the object of my attraction or another nearby observer. Whenever I was confronted in some way, I was able to come up with some excuse (just daydreaming, are you crazy?), narrowly avoiding the disaster of being exposed as a queer. The irony was that I was totally queer in my heart but had never acted on that impulse at all.
By the time I was a junior at West Charlotte High, I had the highest batting average on the team and was the back-up shortstop. During our games, I would peruse the players on the other team and occasionally be rewarded with seeing a hottie who might inspire a few jack-off sessions for a while. One guy stood out in my fantasies for a long time. He was the pitcher for cross-town rival Garinger High School and was a drop-dead gorgeous blonde with a muscular body along with an excessively full crotch. Oh, my! I had my worst performance in the batter's box during our first game. I was so distracted watching his crotch move as he wound up for the pitch that he easily struck me out every time I was at bat. I did a little better when we played them again but was still struggling to concentrate on the ball instead of his balls. Oh, but I had my most powerful jack-off fantasy from then on!
Baseball was my passion and I loved striving to hit every ball thrown to me. Still a little runty as a senior, nevertheless, I was the starting shortstop that year and still the number one hitter. But I got no scholarship offers. Several college scouts told me I might get a walk-on slot at their school if I just showed up for tryouts.
My parents were both pretty cool and generally I had a good childhood. They encouraged me in school and I was generally an A student. I was good with numbers but for some reason not so good with science. I liked the humanities more. So, my dad's dream of me becoming an engineer was abandoned when I was only able to pull a B in Chemistry. We talked a lot about what I wanted to do with my life and he often recommended a life in the military, but emphasized that I had to be an officer, which meant getting a college degree. Working as a commercial airline pilot, Dad recognized the importance of good business skills in the management of a company and suggested I consider some type of business degree.
As my graduation from high school approached, I considered accounting, economics, management, and finance. I visited Western Carolina in Cullowhee, near Sylva, where I picked up a college catalogue so I could study which courses are required for various degrees. I also managed to grab a catalogue when I was at a baseball game at Appalachian State in Boone. Eventually, I decided to consider finance or econ as I looked for a college. During my senior year, I got acceptances from Western Carolina, UNC Charlotte, and UNC Chapel Hill. Mom leaned toward UNC Charlotte so I could stay at home, but Dad thought I should consider Chapel Hill as it had a stronger national reputation. I didn't even have to argue to be allowed to get out of town, which was a key ingredient in the decision for me. Anyhow, I graduated in 1970 and set my sights on the main UNC campus at Chapel Hill.
That summer I worked as a bookkeeper for the big Sears store at the mall. It was boring tasks, but I enjoyed learning about how the financial end of the business worked. In mid-June, I took a couple of days off to go to Chapel Hill for a four-day baseball camp. The camp was at the tail end of a longer camp for high school players I had attended for the previous two summers. The long camp was two weeks and was meant to help the high schoolers learn, develop, and grow as players. It had helped me become a better shortstop and had boosted my batting average a bit, too. This summer, I attended the two days that were set aside for tryouts for the varsity team for the next season. There were several scholarships at stake and about 70 guys who were eager to get one of the limited places on the team.
We were housed in the athletic dorm that had just opened the previous fall and was quite nice. Any of us who made the team during this tryout would automatically gain a spot in the dorm, too. My roomie for five nights was Garret Smithfield, who was the third baseman at West Charlotte. We were friends, but not especially close. We were assigned to one of the rooms in a two-bedroom suite. The guys sharing the other room in our suite were both from Wilmington, Sam and Greg. They were good guys and the four of us cheered each other on and hung out while we were there. In the end, none of us received a scholarship and they all decided to attend different universities in the fall. Even though I didn't win a scholarship, you'll soon see that baseball tryouts turned out to be a critical step in my development as a sexual adult male.
We were supposed to register for our rooms and for the camp on Wednesday afternoon. Garret and I left Charlotte at 1:30 for the 150-mile drive to Chapel Hill so we could find the dorm and get registered before 5:00. A couple of comely co-eds with big tits and low-cut blouses were working the registration table in the lobby of the athletic dorm, presumably to subliminally suggest that if we come here we'll meet such girls. I'm sure the tactic works on most guys, but it did nothing much for me, although they were both very friendly and flirtatious to the max. Frankly I was much more interested in the half dozen guys loitering around the lobby.
Quickly, I scanned the row of guys with excitement. Stud # 1. Cute brunette in tank-top showing great arms and chest, wearing baggy cutoffs. Stud # 2. Curly brown hair and brown eyes, sleeveless plaid shirt open all the way to his waist showing seriously well-muscled hairy arms and chest, trimmed mustache on a handsome face, and, best of all, a significant bulge in tight white tennis shorts. My eyes feasted on this dude, who caught my eye and smiled at me. I blushed and tore my eyes away. Stud # 3. Similar-looking curly-haired guy (brother?) who looked a little older and also smiled at me, thus causing me to look further. Stud # 4. Tall, rather skinny guy with brown hair cut very close to his scalp and a two-inch scar on his right cheek that upped his macho score to me. He had nice legs below pastel blue Ocean Pacific shorts and his arms looked good outside a loose-fitting white tee. Stud # 5. Holy fuck!
The first thing I saw was his shirtless chest, sculpted like a Greek god, hairless, erect nipples, strong arms, a six-pack abdomen like you would see in a muscle mag, and, nestled in a thin pair of Onionskin shorts, a lump that could only be sizeable balls with a protrusion running along his hip almost to his side. When I saw that, I knew without a doubt he was not only the sexiest young man I had ever seen, but also one of the most endowed. I stared and stared, trying to memorize every detail to use for fantasies for the rest of my life while the bimbo at the table rambled on about the schedule she was handing Garret. I lost track of where I was or what I was doing, maybe even who I was. I'm sure my jaw had dropped at this unbelievable body presented as near nude as he could get away with in that location. After a few seconds, I was aware of stirrings in my own shorts and realized I had to look away immediately. But I couldn't. Garret was talking with the girl. She was giggling. I was getting harder. Finally, I looked up to check out the guy's face. Shit, he was beyond beautiful! Flawless skin, sexy cleft chin, honey blonde hair a little long, chiseled jaw, piercing blue eyes – oh, looking right at me! Fuck! I panicked. He smiled, looking amused and self-satisfied like he was playing a game and winning. I tried to look away, but there was nothing threatening in his countenance. He nodded slightly to me in a long-distance hello, I thought. Something was clicking in the back of my brain, a subconscious tickle that made me wonder if he reminded me of someone, the boy at the pool when I was 14 perhaps? When he smiled again, I realized he looked a lot like that pitcher from Garinger High, the one I'd masturbated over a few hundred times. Fuck, the resemblance was uncanny and my response to him was essentially the same.
Garret touched my arm and said, "Jody. Hey man." I closed my mouth and pulled my eyes away from Stud # 5 to look at Garret. Without a word, he held out a key to me. I took the key and swiveled my head back to catch another second of looking at the dreamboat with the huge cock and balls. He was still smiling at me. Was he my high school fantasy? If he was, did he recognize me? The tall guy with the scar started to move toward us, but the guy on his other side put his hand on scar-guy's arm and stopped him. They exchanged a look and Stud # 3, the older curly-haired guy, shook his head and said, "Let Len do it." Then Curly reached behind Scar and tapped Gorgeous on the elbow. When he looked at Curly, Curly said, "This one is yours." I wasn't sure, but I thought he winked.
Scar settled back and Gorgeous grinned at Curly. He looked at me, pulled a white tank-top over his head and approached us as we turned away from the table and the girls focused on the guys behind us in line. He got nearer. My cock throbbed in my shorts. His eyes bore into me. He stopped a foot or so in front of us. I didn't know if I was about to pee, shit, throw up, or cum. He turned his head a bit to look at Garret. Extending his arm, he smiled at my friend and held out his hand. Garret took his hand and they shook.
"Hi," Gorgeous said in a sultry deep voice. "I'm Leonard Griffin, pitcher."
Pitcher? My heart leapt.
"Garret Smithfield," Garret said as they shook. "Third base."
"Pleased to meet you and welcome to Chapel Hill."
They dropped their handshake and Gorgeous turned to me. Holding out his arm, he smiled bigger than he had before. I took his hand in mine. It was larger than mine, strong, and slightly callused. "Len," he said.
I was lost in his gaze again and now I was touching him! My cock throbbed in response to a pheromone overload. I had stopped breathing and the electrical shockwaves shooting up my arm from our grip were very distracting. I didn't shake, just stood there with my hand in his. "And you are?" he asked in a smoky bedroom voice.
Reluctantly I came out of my trance. "Um, Jody," I mumbled. "Jody Di Franco."
"Hey, Jody," he said as his voice caressed my eardrums. "So great to meet you!"
"You, too," I almost moaned. He was just holding my hand. My cock throbbed into full erection in my shorts.
"What's your room assignment?" he asked me.
"I don't know," I mumbled.
"203A," Garret said.
"Come on. I'll show you your room." And with that we were off to the stairs where we went up a flight and then down a long hall, Len leading us, ass cheeks swiveling in the thin shorts as he walked. Len stopped in front of room 203. Garret unlocked the door and walked in. Len stood aside and indicated I should enter. We were in a modest-sized living room containing a couch and two easy chairs, a television, a small square dining table with four chairs, and a small kitchenette. The furniture was new, functional, and sturdy but not fancy.
"This is your home for the next four days," Len said. "You'll share this bedroom." He pointed to a doorway on the right. "And two other guys will be in the second room. Let's see if they've checked in yet." He stepped into the other bedroom and announced. "You're the first here. They should be checking in soon."
Garret stepped into our room and said, "Cool."
I followed Garret and saw he had chosen the nearest bed which had a set of sheets, pillow, and spread on it. By the time I'd brought my duffle bag in, he was sprawled out on top of the spread. I dropped my duffle on the other bed and turned toward the door where Len stood.
"There are two closets and the bathroom is the door in the center," Len said. My gaze had dropped from his gorgeous face to his crotch, where he placed a hand and scratched his balls through the tissue-thin material. My breath caught. Belatedly realizing what I was doing, I tore my eyes from his crotch and looked quickly up at his face. Len had an amused smile and, as my eyes met his, he wiggled his eyebrows. I felt my face redden. "If you make the team, you'll be assigned to this dorm," he said seductively. "All the athletes are here."
"So," I said, "you live here?"
He smiled broadly. "I do. Want to see my room?" He winked.
Garret grunted, "Nah. I want to rest before dinner."
"Okay," Len responded. "Jody?"
I was estimating the thickness of his cock. "Huh?"
"Would you like to see my room?"
The idea of being alone with this lovely fantasy man almost overwhelmed me. It seemed like an imprudent move, but I wasn't about to turn the opportunity down. Trying to keep my voice neutral and my dick under control, I said, "Okay."
"Good. Garret," Len called, "I'll be back to get you guys at five minutes before six. Wear long pants and a shirt that covers your pits – no tank-tops or tees. Okay?"
"Okay," Garret mumbled and rolled over to face the wall.
Len indicated with a nod for me to follow him. We walked through the living room and into the hallway. Before he closed the door, Len asked, "Got your key?"
I held it up so he could see.
"Good. I'm on the fourth floor," he explained and took me down the hall in the opposite direction from where we'd come. At the end of the hall was a door marked "Stairs" which opened to a concrete stairwell. We went up two flights and then down the hall to room 404. He unlocked the door and stepped into the room. He held the door as I followed him inside. Then he closed the door.
Fundamentally, Room 404 was identical to Room 203, but this room featured some dishes on the little counter, a coffee pot, a stack of records and a sort of bookcase made from a combination of concrete blocks and boards. It held some books, but mostly was occupied by a record player and tuner. A warren's nest of wires cluttered against the baseboard with individual wires snaking down the wall to tall speaker boxes that served double duty as either end tables or plant stands. The door closed behind me and my heart raced.
Lightly, Len rested a hand on my shoulder. Only inches from my ear, he spoke softly. "This is where you can usually find me if I'm not in class or working out."
"It's nice," I said weakly.
"Have a seat," he said.
I moved across to the sofa, started to sit, and then veered off to sit in one of the easy chairs. It seemed safer than possibly sitting next to him. He sat at the end of the sofa nearest me. I studied his feet, afraid to look any higher. His feet were bigger than mine and looked sexy in his sandals.
"Jody," he said gently. "I know your secret."
Huh? My secret? My stomach churned and my heart thudded in my chest. "Wha-at?"
"I know you have a very strong attraction to me. And that's okay."
"I'm not..." I didn't finish the sentence.
"Oh, but I think you are. You haven't come to grips with it yet and it terrifies you, but you know you respond to a sexy guy like me."
He said that so matter-of-factly it was clear he wasn't bragging, just stating the truth as he saw it. And he was absolutely right about me. But I couldn't admit it. Then he would have me and could beat me up or tell everybody else or...
"Look," he continued in a sweet, caring voice. "I know. I understand. I'm not that way myself, but I know it's true for some guys, good guys who deserve respect and friendship the same as any hetero guy."
I squirmed, upset by the truth in his assessment of me and by my erection straining against my shorts.
"I like you, Jody, and I would like to be your first friend at UNC. I know you have these confusing feelings, but they don't have to ruin your life."
Ruin my life? I stared at him, speechless. Fuck!
"They don't. You just need a way to handle your needs without letting people know you're this way." He smiled warmly. "You're a very good-looking guy and will have all the girls and all the queers in a dither when they meet you. However, if you're going to have an easy time here and especially on the team, you can't be open about it. It's crucial you find a guy who can give you what you need in private, without other guys finding out."
"But, I can't ..."
"Sure you can. Jody, I've met a few guys who want to have sex with me."
I was shocked at his openness.
Just above a whisper, he said, "And, to tell you the truth, I love getting a blow job."
My face got hot. I dropped my gaze to his crotch which he was touching.
"I know you want to do that, too, Jody." He paused and I couldn't look away from his hand slowly rubbing his cock. "You know, man, we could have a really good thing here. I need to shoot my load three times a day and you need my cock, don't you? It's a perfect situation. Just you and me. No one else involved. No one else knowing how we help each other." I felt like I was being hypnotized.
"I, uh, I don't know." Just the idea of touching his spectacular throbber made me so hard I thought I might shoot right then. But fear stopped me, I think.
"Well, my friend, maybe you need to think about it."
"I've, uh, never ..."
"That's no matter. The fact is you want to. You want to so much! I know," he said in a soothing voice. "Jody, it's more than what you want. It's what you need. Isn't it?"
Maybe, I thought. I don't know what I need.
"You need my cock, Jody. And I need you, too. I need your tongue licking my hard cock. I need to slide it between those pretty lips of yours. I need to feel your mouth around my dick, sucking it until it gives up its ultimate gift." He gripped his cock through his Onionskins. That showed me it was rock hard, unusually long, and impressively thick. "Jody, I want to give you my cock to learn with, to find your true self, to make your fantasy come true."
"I don't know ..."
"Think about it this evening, Jody. You know where I am. If you want to see my cock, to feel it, to experience it, just come back tonight after the event. I'll save it for you."
Fuck! How could I pass up the ultimate fantasy? But if I did what he was suggesting, it would prove to him and to myself that I really am queer. A queer. Cock-sucker. How could I come back later tonight?
How could I not?
"I know you don't want to admit it to yourself, but, man, it's the truth. You need cock and my cock needs you. My roommates aren't here so no one will know if you come back. The door will be unlocked. All you have to do is walk in. No one will ever know. But you'll know. You'll know how a big hard cock feels in your hand, in your mouth. That fantasy you've had since our high school teams played will come true."
Shocked, I stared with wide eyes at him. He remembered me!
"You didn't think I forgot, did you? Even then, year before last, I saw how distracted you were when I pitched to you. I knew then what you wanted, what you needed. I would have given it to you then if you had asked." He smiled. "Go back to your room. Get a shower. Beat off thinking about my cock. Get dressed for dinner. I'll pick you up at 5:55."
I just stared at him. He stood up, cock stretched across his hip and pushing out the front of his shorts obscenely. He took a couple of steps toward me, stopping in front of me, cock right at face level. He held his hands down toward me. I took them and he pulled me to my feet. "Now, go!"
As I turned to head for the door, he swatted my ass suggestively. I left as quickly as I could, holding my cock to keep it controlled. Fortunately, no one was in the hallway or the stairwell and I made it back to Room 203 without being seen.
The door to the other room was closed and I could hear faint voices beyond. In our room, Garret was sleeping, so I quickly found my toiletry bag and fresh underwear and locked myself in the bathroom. The shower spray felt soothing to my tense muscles and I whipped out a load in about 90 seconds, imagining the huge, hard manliness Len would give me later! When I came, I pumped a lot of shots right onto the tile floor and watched the swirls of cum as they circled the drain and disappeared out of sight. God, it felt awesome! As I lathered up and began showering, my cock stayed insistent as I considered the amazing offer I'd just received. Len seemed to suggest we could have a regular arrangement if I attended UNC. If I was having regular sex with the most gorgeous guy in the world, I figured I could ignore any other guy, no matter how cute he might be. This would be a way to be fulfilled sexually without having to face the embarrassment, disrespect, bullying, and general nastiness that might come from other people finding out my secret. Before turning off the shower, I whipped out a second quick load in hopes that my cock would be easier to control during the evening.
I folded some toilet paper and stuck it on the end of my dick to soak up those pesky oozings that often happen after a big orgasm. I slid my still semi-erect penis into my briefs, held my towel casually so it hid my crotch from view, and opened the door. Garret was awake and stripped to his briefs. Ordinarily that would have been exciting to me, but not now. He hurried past me and shut the bathroom door. Maybe my lack of interest in Garret's nice body was a good omen that focusing my desires on Len might really work.
Two other guys were in the living room when I came out after getting dressed. They were Sam and Greg from Wilmington and were nice but not memorable after my meeting with Len. Another current player, Paul, picked up Sam and Greg a few minutes before Len arrived. Paul was handsome and sexy and I didn't care.
As promised, Len knocked at our door at 5:55. Garret opened the door and Len walked in, looking fresh and clean, clad in spotless, skin-tight pale green 501's, a dark green knitted pullover that hugged his chest and biceps, and brown penny loafers. How he managed to get all that flesh arranged within his tight pants was a mystery, but I could hardly look anywhere else. Len inspected Garret with his eyes and then turned to me, looking me up and down with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "You two look hot. The co-eds will be very impressed." He chuckled.
"Let's go meet some!" Garret cried with enthusiasm.
Len escorted us to an upscale dining room in the Alumni Building, where we melded into the room along with the rest of the team, the coaching staff, wives and girl-friends, 68 other hopefuls, and dozens of beautiful co-eds generously scattered among the tables. I was seated between Len and a lovely brunette named Sandy, who was wearing a low-cut summer mini-dress that barely covered her crotch. She didn't seem as slutty as her outfit suggested and we had a nice conversation throughout dinner. She was from somewhere I'd never heard of in Indiana and was a sophomore in interior design. (Or, husband-hunting, I thought.) She laughed a lot and often touched my arm when talking.
After dessert and coffee were served, the head baseball coach, Coach Sean McAllister, took the podium. He introduced the other coaches and some university dignitaries and then the entire team, each of whom stood as their name was called. When Len stood, I heard several nearby coeds gasp. Coach McAllister told us a lot about UNC's athletics and particularly the baseball program. He welcomed us and told us to be at the practice field at 9:30 in the morning for some practice and the beginning of the tryouts.
We were dismissed shortly after 9:00. Len suggested I get Sandy's number so I could call her when I get to campus in the fall. In front of Sandy, he said I should walk her back to her dorm and not delay getting myself to bed as tomorrow would be a hard day and he wanted me to be at my peak. I followed his instructions, promising to call Sandy and receiving a chaste kiss in front of her dorm in return.
I strolled around the campus for a few minutes trying to talk myself out of going to Len's room, but in the end, my need won out over my fear. When I got to the athletic dorm, I entered the lobby where I spoke to a couple of the guys I'd seen at dinner and then wandered down the first-floor corridor to the stairwell. I went straight up to the fourth floor to eliminate any chance of running into Garret. It was just before 10:00 when I arrived at Room 404. As promised, the doorknob turned at my touch. I stepped inside and found several candles burning around the room with Ricky Nelson singing quietly through those big speakers.
I closed the door before I saw Len sitting on the couch, a big grin showing his beautiful teeth. "Get us a couple of brews out of the fridge," he said.
Quickly I pulled a couple of beer bottles out of the little refrigerator. I turned the caps until they popped off and carried the beers toward him. He was shirtless and shoeless, naked except for a pair of super-sexy Onionskins. They were extremely short, white, and made from a silky fabric so thin they seemed almost nonexistent. He was already sporting a boner that was pressing upward from his lap as though it would stand straight up like a rocket on a launching pad if freed from its confinement.
As I approached him, he reached out for the beer, smiling like a toothpaste model, his wet hair plastered against his head. "I'm really glad you decided to come," he said in a deep, sultry voice. "I promise you won't be sorry you did." He patted the sofa next to him.
I sat down, leaving a foot of cushion between our thighs. We sat quietly for a minute or so, each taking a couple of sips of beer as we listened to the Righteous Brothers' "Unchained Melody."
Len turned to look at me. "Why don't you put your clothes in that chair?" he asked.
"Okay." I put my beer on a coaster sitting on the coffee table in front of me and stood slowly. Nervously, I pulled my shirt over my head and laid it across the arm of the chair I had sat in earlier. I kicked off my sneakers and unbuttoned my 501's. Trying not to really think about what I was doing, I slid them down my legs and pulled my feet out of the bunched denim. This left me exposed except for white socks on my feet and low-cut red briefs straining to control my erection. I looked over at Len.
"That's better," he said. "Come over here beside me."
I slithered behind the coffee table, picking up my beer and sitting close to my idol. I was so nervous I was shaking a bit.
He dropped his hand onto my thigh. "Relax," he cooed. "It's just you and me and we like each other. No one else will ever know what we do here. I want to be sure you understand that I will never push you to do anything you don't want to do. I will also never hurt you."
"Okay," I nodded, looking into his bottomless blue eyes, where I could see the reflection of the nearby candle flame.
"And, of course, I expect that you'll never talk to others about what we do."
"Oh, God, no!" There was no one in my life I would share this with.
"I think we're very lucky to find each other, Jody. Our needs are perfectly complementary. I hope we can enjoy each other and take care of each other as long as we're at UNC. So, I also want everything we do to be very satisfying for you. I will always care about what you`re getting from being with me. Are you comfortable with that?"
I believed he was sincerely trying to allay my fears and help me relax so I could enjoy whatever we would end up doing. "Yes, I'm comfortable with that, Len."
He smiled again. "Good." He took a long drink and set his empty bottle on the coffee table. He leaned back into the cushions with his hands behind his head, interlocking his fingers. He spread his feet, visually opening himself up to me. "You may touch me anywhere you want to, Jody."
For a moment I just stared, taking in his beautiful face, well-developed body, and the enormous erection I could see inside his flimsy shorts. I finished my beer and set it aside. Tentatively I put my hand on his pectoral, tracing the curve along the bottom of the muscle before circling his nipple with my finger. I glanced at his face and saw he had closed his eyes but had a natural smile of pleasure. I leaned over to kiss the now-erect nipple. When my lips touched the sensitive aureole, he sighed and gasped simultaneously. "Yes," he mumbled quietly and pushed his pec against my chin. As I sucked his nipple, it grew quite hard and when I nipped at it with my teeth, he groaned in appreciation.
With my other hand, I began tracing the muscles on his belly, identifying the ridges and valleys of his well-developed abs. He shivered, his skin pebbling with goosebumps. I leaned further across him to suckle his other nipple for a while, spurred on by his verbal cues and his pectoral straining as he pushed it against me. I tossed my knee across him so that I was facing him astraddle his knees, mouth still glued to his nipple but both hands now roaming the flawless skin of his torso. I shifted and felt his throbbing cock bouncing against the inside of my thigh. I could feel the pre-cum oozing out of my slit, wetting my briefs and making me dizzy with lust.
Len roused from his passive relaxed state briefly, just long enough to say, "Pull it out, baby. I want to feel you holding my cock." My heart beat powerfully as my hands found the waistband of the flimsy Onionskins. I hooked my fingers under the elastic and lifted but was unable to pull it far enough from his body to free the monster hiding within. Suddenly, Len's hand descended across his belly and slid between my hands right into his groin. He grasped his cock and held it against his belly so I could slide the waistband down across it. He rolled slightly onto one butt cheek so I could pull the shorts out from under that cheek, then he shifted so I could get the other side down. He brought his knees together and I rose to my knees, making it easy to slide the loose shorts over his knees and let them drop to his ankles. He released his dick and it flopped against my thigh again, grazing my balls in the process.
Shaking with excitement, I reached for it. It nestled into my palm like a banana into its skin. I moaned with joy just as he did, too. His cock was hot, pulsing in my hand as soon as my fingers wrapped around it. It was fully hard, thicker than my own straining erection by a good third. I looked down but couldn't see the head as it was still nestling between my thigh and my cotton-covered balls, hiding in the embrace of my body. I leaned forward, transferring my weight onto my knees again so I could raise my torso off the cock of my dreams. I pulled it back out from under me so I could hold it high between us. The cockhead was mushroom-shaped and a darker color than the shaft, more purple than pink, and the piss-slit was covered in so much cock-drool that it was trailing across the surface of the shaft as I brought it into a vertical position. It was long, too, at least two inches longer than my own prick.
"Oh, yes!" I growled. "Quite impressive!"
He grinned and extended his index finger to scrape it across the end of the beautiful cock. He pulled off a good-sized drop of his pearly juices. Turning his finger up, he held it out to me. "You can lick my finger if you want." His voice was mesmerizing. "Taste me, man," he pleaded.
He was offering me the essence of his manhood! I'd tasted my own cum a few times out of curiosity, but never thought about tasting another guy's juice. Just the idea sent me into some kind of erotic orbit.
I leaned over to meet his finger, taking his delicious secretion into the center of my mouth. With my tongue, I scooped off the treat, finding it tangy and sweet, but not strong in flavor. It was heavenly. It was the personal body fluids of this most amazing boy-man, made just for me. I moaned deeply. He pulled his hand back, sliding his finger gently out of my mouth as I tried to suck on it.
"Did you like that?" he asked.
"Oh, yes!" I said with great enthusiasm.
He repositioned his hand to the back of my head. "There's more on my cock. Why don't you just lick it off there?" Almost imperceptibly he exerted a slight pressure to my head, causing it to bob toward his dick. I wasn't thinking rationally by this time. I relaxed the muscles in my neck and shoulders so my head curved down to bring my mouth into position just above the end of the magnificent dick I was holding. "Lick it!"
My tongue obeyed even as my mind hesitated, not wanting to accept an irrevocable change in my identity. Following its own heart, my tongue caressed the end of his cock, scooping off all the accumulated pre-cum. My taste buds rejoiced and my jaws parted. Len moaned. In order to more comfortably kiss his lovely cock, I slipped my knees off the sofa and dropped them to the floor. Without my conscious consent, my head moved lower, taking the big dick into my mouth, mushroom head kissing the top of my tongue, filling my oral cavity like, well, nothing ever had before. It slid into me, taking possession as I began recognizing strange and wonderful new sensations from the presence of Len's body within mine. "Ooooh!" he called out. Slick, steely shaft moved across my tongue like an ocean tanker, not wavering in its path or its velocity for what seemed like a minute, but I'm sure was no more than a few seconds. When my lips kissed the side of my thumb and index finger encircling the steely shaft, the movement ceased. The big head was against the back of my mouth, making it difficult for me to breathe around it and taking up all the open space in my mouth.
This might have been a completely new experience for me, but it seemed utterly natural. I sucked and pulled my head up sliding the dick back out of my mouth and then reversing to draw it back in.
"Oh, God, yes!" Len cried.
I moved down to bring the head back into the depths of my mouth.
"Teeth!"
I stopped.
"Let your lips cover your teeth so they don't scrape my sensitive cock. Please."
I opened wider, cock resting on my tongue, and pulled my lips over my teeth. It felt a little bit weird, but when I went back down, Len sighed, "Yes!"
I could feel my cock continuing to drool into my briefs, but I didn't want to be distracted by my own familiar cock when I had this amazing new cock to enjoy. I continued to move up and down on his shaft, eliciting moans and grunts with each pass through my mouth. A few times, I rammed it into the entrance to my throat, triggering my gag reflex. At first I thought I might throw up, but I just swallowed and tried to relax. Then I was able to take it perhaps an inch deeper without my throat convulsing. When I repeated this deeper thrust a couple of times, I relaxed a little more and actually got a bit more of the big thing in. My throat was not yet able to defeat his cock as there were still a couple of inches remaining against his pubes.
"Oh, yeah, Jody!" he moaned. "You're a natural."
He's right, I thought. I'm a natural-born cocksucker. Momentarily I felt my brain lurching in response to a repellant thought, but quickly decided to worry about that later.
As I sucked him, I dropped my hand to cup his balls, fondling them, gauging their size (also noticeably bigger than my own), tickling them, rolling them around.
"Oh, yeah!" Len moaned.
We continued for a few minutes, locked in the grip of mutual passion, giver and taker, pitcher and catcher, teacher and pupil, man and boy. After a while, I released his balls as I moved my hand across his washboard abs. He moaned and arched his back toward me. My hand found his pec. My fingers circled his nipple. I pinched the hard nubbin. He screamed much too loudly for a simple pinch. His cock swelled in my mouth.
"Here it comes for you, babe!" Len practically shouted. Salty-sweet nectar appeared on my tongue. Yum. It tasted like the pre-cum except it was much more powerful. He held my head down so I couldn't pull off. Like I would have! Cum kept blasting out until all the space in my mouth that wasn't already full of cock was filled with his delicious cream. I kept running my tongue around the surface of Len's cockhead even after it had quieted down. He released the back of my head. His cock returned to the size it had been before the orgasm, still hard for a minute or more, then slowly softening. For a couple of minutes, he lay relaxed in the cushions while I continued to curl over him, head bowed, and cock still receiving my first tongue bath. He moaned several times as more drops seeped out. I was not sure what to do next, so I just kept licking and squeezing the wonderous appendage in my mouth, waiting for some signal from Len.
The cock lost its hardness but didn't shrink as much as I expected. After his breathing returned to normal, Len giggled and, with his hands on my cheeks, lifted my head off his cock, which then dropped out of my mouth and thudded against his belly. I looked up at his flushed and grinning face. He pulled me up so that I was lying on his torso in a rather tight embrace as he rubbed his hands around on my back. I wondered if he would kiss me, but he never made any move in that direction. From a few inches away, he smiled and winked. "That was really nice, Jody. And with more practice, I think you're going to be an excellent cocksucker."
I was shocked to hear him use such a derogatory term about me, but his tone and demeanor didn't seem consistent with any disrespectful attitude. I was seriously confused.
"You liked it, didn't you?" he asked confidently.
Did it? I wondered. Hell, yes! I decided. Looking into those amazing blue eyes, I nodded. "A lot," I said truthfully.
"I knew you would. I could tell you like the way my cum tastes, too."
For some reason, this embarrassed me. But he was right. "Yes, I do."
"Good, `cause I'm going to let you enjoy my cock as often as possible when you come to school here. We're going to have so much fun together, you and me!" He squeezed me for a couple of seconds. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Sure, Len."
"Yep, Jody, we're a perfect pair. I have what you need and you have what I need. Together we're going to be quite satisfied." He patted my rump and rested his hand there.
I lay my head on his shoulder and nuzzled his neck.
"Hey, cowboy, I don't want to push you away, but it is late, and we have a big day at the tryouts tomorrow. I think you need to get back to your room and try to get some sleep so you'll be at your best tomorrow. I'll come get you and, what's his name?"
"Garret."
"Yeah, Garret. I'll come to your room at 8:30 and we'll go get some breakfast, okay?"
"I'd like that."
"Excellent. Be ready to go to the ballpark for the tryouts after we eat."
"Okay."
"Now, get off me and get dressed." He patted my ass once more and moved his arms from around me. I got dressed and left with a quick "Good night."
Silently I went down the stairs and through the hallway to Room 203, slipping through a quiet living room and into the room I was sharing. Garret was snoring lightly. I stripped off the clothes I had put on about two minutes earlier and scooted into the bathroom. Standing in front of the lavatory, I took my cock into my right hand. Wow – it was short and skinny compared to the one I had held for the past hour. But it was hard, exceedingly hard. I worked my hand up and down, remembering the beauty of Len's face, the smell of his body, the soothing sound of his voice, the smoothness of his skin, the enormity of his cock, the taste of his cum. My sensory system quickly recaptured the extreme erotic emotions created through this closeness with my fantasy man. I'd never been so turned on and I'd never had a more intense orgasm than that one. I creamed the mirror a few times and then shot several more wads into the sink. I tried to be silent but couldn't completely stop my cries of ecstasy.
I washed myself and the lavatory, brushed my teeth so Garret wouldn't smell my cum-breath in the night, and slipped back into the bedroom. Garret had rolled onto his side and was no longer snoring. I lay down and faced away from him. For a few minutes, I rolled the word "cocksucker" around in my brain. It wasn't quite as scary when I remembered the way Len had said it. The way my dad is Italian, or Sidney Poitier is black, or Warren Beatty is gorgeous, I'm a cocksucker, a queer. Get used to it, I thought. That was my last thought before I succumbed to sleep.
When I awoke to the sounds of Garret flushing the toilet, it was a couple of minutes after 8 a.m. Somewhere in my brain, I heard Len's marvelous voice say, "Good morning, cocksucker!" Thinking I might have actually heard that, my eyes flew open and to my relief I was alone in the bedroom. I got out of bed, rummaged in my luggage and pulled out my high school uniform. I put it on but wore street shoes. I put some street clothes in my duffel along with my baseball shoes and a towel. When he came out of the bathroom, Garret was obviously a bit curious as to my whereabouts the previous evening, but I pushed past him in a bee-line to the toilet.
Len retrieved us for breakfast and we had a very busy day at the ballpark. The energy level was very high as the 70 hopefuls were put through their paces by the coaches and some of the regular squad. I batted a lot, hitting over 200 balls, but no homeruns. I served as a shortstop most of the afternoon, so the coaches could observe me. I think I did a good job, but it was hard to tell if I was good enough. They said we would be told on Sunday who would receive a scholarship. We broke for lunch at the cafeteria and ended the day a little after 4:00. Instead of hitting the showers, most of the guys went back to their rooms to freshen up for dinner. Garret and I walked back with our suitemates Sam and Greg. After we'd showered, the four of us sat in the living room for a while chatting about our high schools, the day's events, girls, our hopes for receiving scholarships, what we would do if we didn't get a scholarship (only Greg and I still planned on attending UNC), pussy, the coaches, the girls from last night's dinner, breasts, some of the guys from the team. Oh, and a little bit more about pussy. Apparently, Sam was quite a pussy hound. Whatever.
Finally, it was time for dinner, so we wandered down to the cafeteria. Len was in the cafeteria, but surrounded by some other guys which prevented me from getting to be with him. I chose a seat at our table that allowed me to face the table where he was sitting. As we ate, we exchanged several glances and a couple of smiles and nods.
As I carried my tray to the dirty dishes window, I saw Len out of the corner of my eye as he approached with his tray, too. We met near the window. Our eyes connected and we exchanged a smile.
"My room. 10:00," he whispered.
I grinned. "Of course."
That night, Len invited me into his bed where he wanted it slow and sensuous. I sucked his big cock until he was about to cum and then he stopped me. That happened three times before he finally fed me his delicious juice. When I got back to my room, it was almost midnight and Garret was snoring loudly. I went immediately to the bathroom and whipped off a quick, but powerful load before crashing.
Saturday was more playing ball and getting observed by all kinds of people. That sort of made me nervous, but whenever Len smiled at me I felt calmer. I also had a thirty-minute interview with a couple of assistant coaches, one of whom was quite hunky and looked at me a lot. Hmm. Coach Stan Jordan attracted me more than anyone else other than Len. That night, after dinner in the cafeteria, Len, Paul, and the two curly-haired guys from the registration lobby took a bunch of us out to an under-21 club that was pretty hot. The curly-haired guys turned out to be brothers as I had suspected, Phil and Blake Keller. Phil was going into his last year at UNC and Blake would be a junior. They were from nearby Durham but shared an off-campus apartment nearby and hinted at wild parties held occasionally. We all danced with the coeds until about 1:00. I enjoyed hanging out with Phil and Blake and Len as well as dancing several times with Sandy and once with a pretty girl called Bellamy.
At some point, Len leaned into me and whispered, "My room right after we get back."
Since it was quite late when we got back, our time together was rather hurried, but I still got a healthy load of Len's special creamy brew to take home with me.
Sunday morning, Garret, Sam, and Greg joined me for a late breakfast before we reported to the field house for the 10:00 wrap-up. The coaches announced the scholarship winners, but none of us were selected. Coach Jordan sought me out to tell me that I almost made the cut based on superb hitting, but what held me back was that my hits were not very powerful. "If you can build up the strength in your swing before the season starts in February, you have a good chance to join the team as a walk-on, which would put you in line for a scholarship the following year." He grinned and put a hand on my shoulder. "I really would like to have you on the team, Jody." I wondered if there were any personal reasons for wanting me on the team. "So, get yourself a good weight-lifting program going, okay?"
"Sure, Coach. I really want to be on the team."
He squeezed my shoulder. "I have a feeling you will be."
When he walked away, my eyes followed him. After five or six paces, he turned and looked back at me. He seemed slightly embarrassed that I was watching him, but he smiled and quickly looked away.
The four hopefuls in Room 203 walked back in a somewhat down mood. When we got back to the room, we concentrated on packing up rather than talking any more. My disappointment was as much about the uncertainty of getting to be around Len in the future as it was about missing out on a scholarship.