I was cleaning up the locker room when I heard it.
"Come on, touch it."
I have to admit my ears perked up when I heard those words, delivered in a whispery adolescent growl.
"Man, no, we're going to get caught."
It was my senior year of high school. I had been a star on the basketball team until sidelined by an ankle injury. To keep me from moping, the coach had made me a sort of assistant. My main job was running the JV practices, which coach hated anyway -- taking a gangly, giggly bunch of boys at various stages of puberty and molding them into the semblance of teamwork.
I loved it. And even though I had begun to be aware of my own dim and darkly repressed attraction to other boys, I kept things at a strictly professional level. I worked the boys hard on the court, and then afterwards, after herding their unwillingly naked bodies into the showers, I would turn away, and try not to listen in on their laughing banter as they hurridly splashed themselves clean and leapt out of the water.
I'd had plenty of practice with this self-imposed blindness and deafness. Back when I'd been on the team myself, the showers had been a torturous mix of pleasure and danger. We were all grown men on the varsity team (or so we thought), and no longer ashamed of the bodies that had grown tight and hard, nor of the penises that now swung low below thick and tangled masses of pubic hair. Accordingly, we no longer rushed through the showers like kids through a sprinkler. Instead, we luxuriated, letting the steaming hot water erase the aches and pains of our workouts, and carefully soaping each and every area of our young bodies.
But there was still one fear that perhaps lurked in more hearts than mine. We all wanted a little blood flow to our lower members... enough to make us look properly endowed. But never allow your gaze to stray to the beauty all around you. Without warning, you might feel a burst of heat to your groin, and look down in horror to find your member at full attention, jutting out, a signal of lust for all to view.
It had happened to me once, just once, and luckily I had been able to make a run for it, shampoo still in my hair, before anyone noticed. There was another guy who hadn't been so lucky. Immediately he gained a new nickname --"Boner Boy." Two weeks later he dropped of the team. Even now, guys on the team still laughed when they passed him in the halls. Was I the only one who woke up rock-hard from dreams of him, standing there, water bouncing off his stubby errectness, as boys all around pointed and whooped?
He was a handsome blond kid, ironic and wry, and for a moment he had tried to brazen it out, flaunting his shame rather than hiding it. But they had broken him. It was a cautionary tale for me, and for anyone with the same urges I had, warning us to keep them well hidden. But it was a rule these younger boys were breaking.
"Come on, you know you want to."
"No, why can't you wait?"
I recognized their voices immediately. They were the stars of the JV squad. The first voice was Trey. He was a tall black kid, cocky and mouthy. He would shed his shirt at the slightest excuse, showing off the smooth dark skin of his chest, stretched tightly over ribs and muscles.
The other voice was Chaz. He was a shy quiet white boy, struggling through puberty. He was clumsy and awkward off court, but a natural athlete with the ball in his hands. He never said much, but there was a boyish energy about him that was irresistable --to me, at any rate.
"Yeah, yeah, man, that feels good. Just like that."
Maybe it was just my dirty mind that had me picturing bad thoughts --those two young freshmen with their shorts around their knees and their dicks poking up like--
No, shame on me for thinking such a thing. They couldn't be doing that. Maybe they were just giving each other back massages. Even the varsity squad would do that sometimes after a hard practice, to help each other's backs from cramping up.
I could see it in my mind, Trey lying on the bench, stripped to the waist, while Chaz knelt over him, kneading out his tight muscles. Peversely, that thought sent a new shot of heat to my groin, and I suddenly became aware of my own hard-on, tenting out my gym shorts.
"Yeah, yeah, white boy. Stroke it." Trey was almost purring.
Chaz's voice was more hesitant. "Man... do you think... do you think you could... touch mine too?"
I thought I was going to rip the fabric of my shorts. Even at the risk of scaring them off, I had to see what was going on. Ducking low, I peeked around the edge of the bank of lockers. From where I was, I would be safely hidden, but all I could see was what was visible beneath the bench. Down at the end, I could see a pair of discarded gym shorts, and some white underwear bunched around one brown ankle, and next to it, two bare white feet and legs.
Trey laughed, deeply and richly. "I knew you wanted it," he said.
A moment later I saw Chaz's toes all tense up at once, and he gasped, drawing breath noisily into his lungs. Unable to help myself, I dove under the wide bench itself. From there, I inched forward on my belly like a soldier until I was almost right beneath the boys themselves. As I moved, the tiles of the floors scraped across the smooth fabric of my shorts, and made my hugely engorged penis vibrate in a way that was half-pleasure, half-pain.
As I arrived at my destination, I rolled a bit onto my side and released my rod from its nylon prison. Roughly crushing it with one of my hands, I strove only a respite from the lustful itch, and not the full release I craved but could ill-afford. Above me I could feel the vibration of the bench, and hear the boys' ragged breaths choking and releasing in counterpoint harmony.
"Trey," said Chaz hesitantly after a moment. "How did you get such a big dick?"
I expected Trey to spout some quip about the difference between white boys and black boys, but instead he paused for a moment like he was really thinking about it. I saw his leg idly kick his underwear off, and had to pull back to avoid his heel on its return trip.
"You really want a big dick like mine?" said Trey.
"Yeah!" said Chaz.
"I'll tell you one way to get one," said Trey. "Eating jizz." His voice was so calm, I couldn't tell if he was bullshitting his ass off, or really thought he was telling the truth.
"Ewww," said Chaz.
"Yeah," said Trey. "If you eat jizz, your dick gets to be the same size as wherever the jizz came from. So don't ever eat the jizz from no short dick."
"That's nasty," said Chaz. But there was something carressing in his voice, and I wasn't really surprised when his hesitant boy's voice asked another question a moment later. "When you jizz... can I have it?" His voice cracked at the end.
"Only if you work for it," said Trey. There was a smugness in his voice now, and I knew he was reeling Chaz in like a fish on a line.
"Like how?" said Chaz.
"Sucking it out," said Trey.
"Eww, no!" said Chaz. "You're foul!"
"Bitch, please," said Trey. "You ought to thank me for letting you have this opportunity. I got the biggest dick in the ninth grade and you could have the second."
"The second?" said Chaz.
"Yeah, mofo," said Trey. "You don't think I'm gonna let you have enough of my jizz to get big as me, do you?"
"Come on Trey, don't be like that," said Chaz. "We're buds, aren't we?"
There was a pause. "Oh, all right," said Trey.
You slick bastard, I thought to myself.
A moment later, Chaz knelt down on the floor. His thin legs and bumpy knees were right in front of me. If I had reached out, I could have grabbed his hard little dick, covered with its dusting of fuzzy pubes. It was no wonder he wanted it to grow.
There was a gasp from Trey this time, and he started moaning in earnest. "Yeah, white boy! Suck my black dick. Take it!"
Chaz gagged a few times, but his own dick never lost its hardness. In fact, it began to jerk up and down, all by itself. But just before I was hypnotised I caught a glimpse of motion. Looking to my other side I realized we were all next to a mirror. By looking at it, I could see everything going on above me. Unfortunately, that meant I could be seen too, if either of them looked over towards the mirror.
Luckily, there didn't seem like much danger of that. Trey was leaning back on his elbows, with his eyes closed, and one leg up on the bench. With one hand, he carressed Chaz's head, running his long black fingers again and again through Chaz's straight brown hair, and back to the nape of Chaz's neck. As he sucked like a pro, Chaz reached a hand down to his own dick, yanking it rhymically in time with the bobbing of his head.
Suddenly Trey started bucking his hips up and down. His eyes flew open and his moans got louder. "Yeah, white boy... suck it you fucking cock sucker whitie..." his words got less and less coherent until finally he grabbed Chaz's head and yanked it into his groin.
As he did so, he and I let out a yell together, and Chaz exploded, shooting a stream of hot sticky jizz into my hair, just as my own jizz shot out from under the bench and spattered against the mirror. In the next moment, Chaz pulled away, coughing and gagging. A line of jizz dripped down from his mouth, but he gathered it back up and swallowed it like a trooper. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes watery, but there was a grin on his face and his spent dick was still standing up hard and away from his skinny white body.
"I think it's bigger already," he said happily, pulling on his member with one hand.
"Yeah, homie you did good," said Trey. "Let's get out of here."
They dressed and left with lightning speed, and by some good fortune, neither one looked in the mirror or under the bench. After they left, I jerked myself over and over, splattering load after load on the underside of the bench. By the time I cleaned everything up and left the school, it was starting to get dark outside.
That was Friday. On Monday I passed Boner Boy standing by his locker. I had never joined in the teasing and the name calling, but my usual reaction to BB was to ignore him completely. This time however, I decided to speak. The hall was deserted, there was no one to see.
"Hey," I said. He looked up warily. He was still as young and pretty as ever, but there was a weariness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "Do you want to hang out after school sometime?" I continued. "I usually get home early on days with no JV."
His eyes narrowed and he gave me a slow look, up and down. Suddenly I knew, without any way to explain it, that I hadn't been the first guy from the team to make a similar offer, and that all of the others had had the same plan in mind.
"I'll write down my address," he said finally. "My mother doesn't get home until late."
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