The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, nor governmental areas, which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offences you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is fiction. Use protection, in real life.
ROAD TRIP indecision wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Hot?" Robbie asks, as he and Adam walk back to the gymnasium from the track.
"Not as hot as you," Adam joked, slapping the back of his hand against Robbie's smooth abs.
Choosing to keep his shirt on, Adam was sweated up enough to look as if he had showered with his shirt on. On the other hand, Robbie's black muscle shirt hung out of the rear waist of his gym shorts.
"So you think I'm hot, Adam?"
"I tend to pick on guys my own age thank you."
"Oh really. I didn't realize you and Sep were born in the same year."
"There's always an exception to the rule," Adam said, winking.
"So how much age difference is there between you two?"
"I'm old enough to be his father."
"Now you're yankin' my chain."
Smiling, Adam fessed up, "Eight years."
Walking in the back door of the lockerroom, off the top of his head, Robbie offers, "Shower?"
"Nah. Thanks, but one of the amenities of the security office, its equipped with a full size jon and shower facilities."
"Oh. Okay. Just thought I'd ask."
After an almost unnoticeable laugh, Adam says, "You can catch all the eye-candy you want at the next pool party!"
As Adam walked away, Robbie stopped him, asking, "Ever use them?"
"What?" Adam questioned, turning to look over his shoulder.
"The cuffs."
"I've had to on one or two occasions. Sometimes a frat party can get out of hand. Later, dude!"
Walking around corners of the lockerroom, Robbie faced his locker, minus the cylinder. "Forgot!" he reminded himself outloud, journeying back from his own locker, around the corner, whistling as he went. Parking his ass on the bench, he looked up at Barry's locker. It was like looking into a portal, seeing the twenty-one year old lying there in the hospital bed, bandages galore covering his bod. He mumbled to himself, "Poor guy."
"What's up Robbie?"
For a moment Robbie mistook Larry for his lover. Realizing the truth, he replied, "Nothing."
Soon after Edwin came in from the track, the other tracksters followed, reporting to their lockers as they stripped down.
"Oh man. You wouldn't `believe' the torture coach put us through today," Edwin grieved. "I don't know what foolish idea got into my head to go out for track'n'field," the twenty year old reflected on, throwing his shirt down onto the bench next to Robbie, his thumbs locking under the elastic of his gym shorts, pressing downwards.
He didn't say it, but Larry couldn't help but smile when he spied Robbie checking out the bulge in Edwin's crotch, his tightey-whities stretched to the max. However he was kind enough to distract Robbie, "We're headed over to the hospital after Edwin showers. Wanna come?"
"I've got class. I told Barry I would stop by later."
"I talked to Barry on my cell about an hour ago. He told me what he said to you."
"Oh? And that would be?" Robbie asked, hoping it wasn't a `certain' subject, knowing how bold Barry could be even with something deeply personal.
Totally in the buff, Edwin's thin trail pointed like an arrow to his hairy cock and balls, he clued Robbie in, "Want to give me a blowjob?"
"He didn't!" Robbie exclaimed. "And you had to tell `him'?" he thumbed towards Edwin.
"Don't lose your cool man. Your secret's safe with us."
If he didn't have a deep love for Barry, Robbie might have pounded him into the ground for sharing something personal about their love life.
"Yeah, don't get so bent out of shape, Robbie. Can you blame Barry? I mean we've been closer to each other since birth than any other guys alive!"
"Sure. I understand. No problem, Larry," he settled for, knowing before he came along the twin brothers were inseparable, Larry taking care of Barry before he passed the job onto him.
"So what about it, Robbie?" Edwin badgered him, holding his nine inch nail, hand around it, offering it up as if a sacrifice.
"Yeah, right," Robbie said. Taking middle finger, placing it at the tip of his thumb, the spring action let loose as he held it quickly up to Edwin's cock.
"Oh shit!" Edwin cried out, bending over, holding his crotch with both hands, moaning in pain.
As Robbie laughed, Larry consoled Edwin with, "It's your own fault, sweetheart!"
Holding his cock and balls up for examination, Edwin complained, "Look what he did! It's all red!"
"Oh poor baby. Why don't you kiss it and make it all better!" Robbie said then laughed.
With further consolation, Larry let Edwin off to a cool shower, himself stripping down even though he was as cool as a cucumber.
Sitting there, looking up at the locker, Edwin's cock was on his mind. "Nah," he said to himself on seriously thinking how good it would have been to suck on the Latino cock. As if in a trance, Robbie sat there daydreaming, thinking how tasty the hairy balls would have been. Casually he took his watch out of the locker and looked at it. Still in his daydream, he was on his knees in front of Edwin, the Latino standing there with hands on hips, thoroughly enjoying the tongue-teasing Robbie was giving him. Coupled with his conversation with Adam, Robbie tried moving his hand to help digest Edwin's tool. His wrists were cuffed.
"I thought you had class?"
What a rude awakening, not one, but two hot jocks standing in front of him, Edwin and Larry returned from their shower. Being Barry's twin brother, he figured the size of his endowment, but anyway, it was Edwin whom he was dreaming of, so cast attention to the twenty year old.
"It's still available," Edwim teased, shaping his pipe with the towel around his waist, with his hand.
Larry scolded him, "Well hurry up and get it stuffed in your jeans before `I' give it a swat!"
After sharing in Larry's laughter, Robbie cursed himself out after looking at his watch the second time. As he stripped off his shorts, fit his legs into his jeans, he could swear eyes were on him all the time.
"Hey, anytime you feel like a `69', bro, we can hookup."
With one sock on, one off, Robbie sat there, addressing Edwin, "Really? I wondered why you are so slow getting dressed," meaning allowing Larry to finish up ahead of his mate. "And what would Larry say to that?"
"You know Barry worships his brother. Same with Larry. Like if he thinks it's helping out his bro, he won't mind it," Edwin found the excuse.
"So, Larry knows what you are asking me?"
"No. But he'll come around eventually. After all, a man can never get enough ass," Edwin said as if proud of himself.
"I've gotta get moving," Robbie retorted, slamming the locker door, picking up his sneakers and walking out of the aisle.
"Whatsamatter?" Larry asked, seeing Robbie in a tiff.
"Why don't you ask your loverboy? See if he can come up with some answers!" Robbie replied sarcastically, stepping in his sneakers as he walked.
With a scowl on his face, Larry starts piecing some things together. Maybe', he thought, this would be a good time for.....' Not finishing his own thought, Larry skipped over two aisles of lockers, headed for the third. Having to do a doubletake of steps he backed up to find Edwin in the aisle before his locker. He stood there shocked, seeing Edwin's back, one foot up on the bench, the other planted on the tiled floor. On his knees, Jef Kyser had his mouth full, Edwin's hand coaxing him on as if a dog's master, running his hand through Jef's mane, words driving him on, "Oh yeah.... oh fuckin' yeah..... tighten up those lips..."
"Is this why you weren't at the library yesterday?" Larry accused him, pointblank.
"Oh shit! I thought you had gone."
Jef Kyser, in the middle, first whined when Edwin pulled out, then politely excusing himself, headed away from Larry, to disappear around the corner.
"Now wouldn't that have been convenient?" Larry said, arms folded across his chest. Then he speculated, "Robbie turn you down, so you had to seek out some other prey?"
"Um... no... I mean... Jef was right here. He was like begging me to give him a blow job... believe me," Edwin pleaded his case.
From over the locker tops, bellowed, "Liar!" It was Jef Kyser's voice!
"I guess this is why you were `too busy' to drive me to the hospital last night to see Barry? Huh?"
Hanging his head lowly, Edwin couldn't distort the truth any longer. All he could do is stand there and take Larry's tongue-lashing.
"Uh, wait Larry," he tried stopping the twenty-one year old when he stormed out of the room.
As Larry left, Anthony walked in. Edwin's haste to catch Larry made him plow right into him. Not so tough to stand up against a charging bull, Edwin seemed to bounce off. "Um, I wouldn't suggest going out there like this?"
Looking down himself, Edwin realized all he had on was his Nike socks. "Oh yeah. Right."
"Care to talk about why Larry was making a quick getaway?"
Edwin made excuse, "I've gotta get dressed... got a class."
Entering the rarely used office off to the side of the lockerroom, Anthony took a ream of copy paper from the stack in the corner. When he straightened up from bending over, turning towards the door, there stood Edwin.
"Change your mind?" Anthony asked.
In a dismal mood, Edwin, backpack slung over one arm, admitted himself to the small square room, saying, "I don't have a class."
Tossing the five hundred sheet pack on the desk, Anthony states, "Figured so. One of my gifts... knowing when I'm being conned. So... what's the fight about?"
"Fight?"
"Between you and Larry?"
Rubbing his hand over his face, Edwin replies, "Y'know, sometimes I can be my worst enemy!"
"You lost me," Anthony says, turning the wooden chair around to face the swivel chair he sets his ass down in.
Removing his pack from his shoulder, Edwin takes up residence in the chair. "I don't know what it is coach. I figured by the time a guy hits twenty his sex drive slows down."
Anthony couldn't help but crack a smile, knowing at twenty-seven his system still hasn't reached its peak. "Oh I don't think that holds much creedance. Really age has nothing to do with it. Sure, as a guy ages his testosterone ratio seems to drop, but I don't think this is all what this is about, is it Edwin?"
"I don't know what it is coach. It seems like five times a day I need tooooo... to get relief," Edwin put it as good as he could.
"So I take it since Larry can't be at your side twenty-four hours a day, you've been `finding' other ways for release?"
Then Edwin came right out and said, "Right and Larry just happened to be there when Jef was giving me a blow job."
"In the lockerroom?" Anthony questions.
"Right."
Sitting back in the swivel chair, arms across his chest, Anthony asks, "Did you bother to read the contract you signed before participating in track and field, Edwin?"
"I read it."
"Do you recall reading something regarding lockerroom conduct?"
"Uh yeah. I think."
"You think?" Anthony quizzed him, sitting up, a more serious side to him blossoming. "Well let me refresh your memory." Turning to the center drawer of the desk, Anthony withdraws several sheets of paper. "Here it is," he turns to page four, "Any sexual intercourse or activity pertaining to a sexual matter, occuring within the gymnasium or the immediate area, between college students shall constitute dismissal from the team."
"Shit," is all Edwin could say. Then he lifted his head, trying to build a case against the accusation, "But I... I didn't come."
Anthony thought it a good plea, but it didn't hold water. "And the fellow on the other end?"
"It wasn't his fault. I... I..."
"You came on to him, is that it?" Anthony guessed the facts.
"Yeah... I mean... it.. it didn't even happen near my locker. I had to go looking for...."
When Edwin fell short of words, Anthony again went to the rescue, "You had to go looking for sex. So, you picked the sucker, no pun intended, who was vulnerable to your needs?"
"I feel like a total whore."
"Not the word I would use, but serves the purpose," Anthony said. When a lull occured, Edwin knowing what he was being accused of, the jury in, pronouncing the verdict, `guilty', all that needed to be said about his sexual infraction was done with. "So what about Larry? I thought you two were hitting it off rather nicely?"
"I know," Edwin said, then accidentally named, "I couldn't believe he caught Jef sucking me off."
"Jef Keyser?" Anthony stated, apparently the other half involved in `the crime'.
"Yeah, but I swear. He didn't have anything to do with it, coach!"
With a little laugh, more of a pathetic one, Anthony tells him, "On his knees? Your cock embedded in his mouth? How could he not have been involved? Surely he was enjoying it as much as you?"
"Yeah, he's good at it." Edwin suddenly realized his offering was immaterial. He still pleaded, "But it's not like he was looking for me... it was like.. the other way around. If anybody really deserves to get sacked, it's me coach, not Jef."
Thinking it over, Anthony tells him, "Well you're really leaving me in a bind here, Edwin."
"Oh? How's that go coach?"
"We only have six guys out for track'n'field, which hardly makes up the number to call it a `team'. I need you out there on the track."
"Sorry to let you down, coach," Edwin said, seemingly regretful for his actions.
"Well you wouldn't be the first male to allow his cock and balls to cloud his judgement. However, it's no excuse to disobey the rules of conduct befitting a team member, especially when it's spelled out in black and white, plus something you read less than a week ago."
"I deserve to be kicked out," Edwin said, stating the fact.
"You let down the team," Anthony further gave Edwin reason to sulk.
"I know."
Sitting there for a moment, Anthony let the team contract settle on his lap as if trying to hide something. Exhaling, then thinking gave Edwin indication he was reconsidering things in his mind.
After what seemed like an hour, fit into two minutes, Edwin asks, "I guess I should go clean out my locker?"
Then it came to Anthony. "Oh no. I'm not going to let you off the hook that easy young man." After saying it, he regretted it, thoughts returning from long ago, his father saying it to him and how he hated the phrase. Even though, he pronounced sentence, saying, "Barry will be out of commission for at least a month. It was puzzling me who would be able to fill his shoes." Then, not asking, but dictating, Anthony dealt out, "Get to the track one hour before practice and meet me at the shed. You'll be responsible for bringing out the gear, returning it to it's place in the shed and making sure it's clean."
"I can handle that," Edwin said, not sure if he could really. It seemed like a lot to do.
But Anthony wasn't finished, continuing, "Around six o'clock everyday towels need to be collected from the hamper outside the showers. Once you get the timing down, you can throw them in the wash, go do something you need to get done, then come back and put them in the dryer."
Edwin gulped. He wasn't sure the pleasure he felt, Jef's lips wrapped around his cock, tongue on the inside massaging his barrel, was comparable to the price he was paying.
"It's not in the janitor's contract to wipe down the lockerroom floor. There's a bucket and mop in the jon. There still may be some athletes floating around after six. You'll have to wait til they are finished using the facilities."
Of course Anthony was making it up as he went. Barry did up the towels, but that's where his responsibility ended.
"But I need time to study," Edwin tried conning him.
As stated, Anthony wasn't one to be conned. From Adam Steel, he's heard tons of stories of late night college parties, occuring any number of days of the week. "Okay you can skip Wednesday. Hardly any of our athletes use the facilities."
It almost slipped on, Edwin's usual weekend outings with the guys. Lately he's been taking Larry along to the pub. "But..."
"Yes?" Anthony asks.
"Nothing. I guess I can work it out."
Of course there was the matter of Edwin's relationship with Larry. Anthony figured nothing said might be the better judgement, letting the two work things out on their own. He had a feeling the new responsibilities he gave Edwin were going to make him or break him. He hoped it was the first option. In his eyes he pictured a blossoming relationship between the two, until the wrench got thrown into the engine.
His last words, Anthony told him, "I've got to get going... got a meeting. I hope things work out for you. Don't forget. Two o'clock at the track shed."
"I'll be there," Edwin replied, low-keyed, knowing he really didn't have an option to protest.
Going to the jon before leaving, Edwin spotted the bucket and mop, signaling his brain, telling him what a horror story his life is about to become.
"How'd it go?"
Turning around, Edwin spotted Jef Keyser just inside the door. "What can I tell you? Life sucks. I have a choice of either getting my ass kicked out or mopping the floor," he said, not at all excited about either prospect.
"Still horny?" Jef asked, a glint in his eye.
"What do you think?"
"I guess not," Jef replied. Maybe Edwin wasn't, but Jef was. "Might be just what you need to get yourself out of this funk?"
"I don't think so Jef. Just not in the mood right now."
"Okay. I'm going back to the dorm if you get in the mood," Jef replied, leaving, making it known he didn't accidentally show up, but had a purpose for being there other than taking a leak.
As for Edwin, he was thinking about Larry, admitting he's a really nice guy, not deserving of the likes of himself. At first he thought about making up, but then it lurked in his mind his dirty deed' and Larry catching him at it. Piling on another excuse, he thought, what with all the chores he had to do, where would there be time for a relationship. Before long Edwin had left himself with more cons' than `pros'.
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2B continued...
Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection without prior written permission, by the author.