Sophomore Year 19
This is the nineteenth of a multipart story about my year boarding with a single dad and his two sons. It was a time of highly charged eroticism much more than explicit sex and led me to discover a lot about myself.
In this chapter, Mr. Bill help Hank make an important decision and guides him in taking an important step along his newly chosen path.
Many thanks to all those who continue to send encouragement and share their own experiences and fantasies. I love hearing from Nifty readers.
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Sophomore Year 19
The revelations from Mr. B, the Captain, had my head spinning. They had given me a much deeper appreciation of Buck's penchant for ass-whipping. It wasn't just from meanness or a need to control others. He was leading others on the path that had led him to become the man he was. Today's reader may see it as a cliché, but at that time the concept hit me as totally new: discipline is an act of love.
I now saw that if Buck spanked my ass, it was not just to punish me and even less to show disapproval. In a sense, with each whack of his hand he was trying to guide me, to take me somewhere that he saw I needed to go. It was for my benefit.
One of the main hesitations I'd had about taking the room was a fear and aversion to his inclination towards physical aggression. But now, with this new understanding, I couldn't imagine not taking the room nor doing every single thing I could to keep it. I said as much to Captain Bill.
"You won't regret it," he promised. "make sure Buck doesn't either." Those last words echoed in my ears. "Now, strip off that suit and get dressed and head back next door. Buck will be waiting to hear your decision."
"Yessir. I need to rinse this suit out first though. It sure is nice."
"Our sailor here does it justice," he winked. "There's a utility sink in the laundry room, behind the louvred door." He picked up the shorts and jockstrap off the table to hand to me. "You know, tonight may be the first time I've ever seen these shorts worn with a jockstrap. Jack is such a diehard free-baller."
"Buck said something along those lines," I offered.
"Oh, it drives Buck crazy, but in all fairness, the shorts are also something to behold when worn commando."
"I actually wondered about that," I had to admit.
"Would you like to try them on commando, just for a minute before you return to Camp Jockstrap'?" he jested. I enthusiastically nodded yes.'
"Well, go!"
I ran to the laundry room, peeled off the damp suit, carefully rinsed it out and hung it to dry. Next, I dried off my balls really well, and then pulled up Jack's white shorts against my bare skin. They were so snug that they held me in place fairly well when I initially attempted the `cup and lift' move I'd learned that day. They briefly held all my meat in a neat mound up front. But after a few movements, my dick had slipped down the side of my leg. I assumed that was how Jack positioned himself when he wore them.
The shorts were just long enough that, at least in my current mood, there didn't seem much risk that my dick would slip out. Assessing myself quickly in the mirror, I thought that the fit was not exactly obscene, but it was definitely not modest.
It felt kind of daring--and fun—to try them on here like this, but I couldn't imagine wearing them commando in public. To any curious eye, little detail would be hidden. The attentive observer would easily detect that I was uncircumcised, for example.
As I pulled the muscle shirt over my head, I heard the captain call, "Come out here and let's take a look." I stepped out back into the den. "Shades of Jack!" he whispered to himself, then to me, "Come to the mirror and let us admire the fit."
He stood beside me, expertly tugging at the waist and hem of the legs, smoothing the fabric here and there. His hands were everywhere, and I worried that he might accidentally graze my privates. Recalling my embarrassing episode with the wrestling coach, I started to grow nervous.
But before any such catastrophe occurred, he paused and asked, "So, what do you think?"
"Wow!" was all I could reply at first. "They are really something. I've never worn anything quite like this before."
"It's kind of fun, isn't it?" he responded conspiratorially. "A little adventurous, right?"
"Yes!" He had read my mind.
"And you know, it's perfectly natural to enjoy `the hang,' as Jack calls it. Buck is right, of course, protecting our manhood is imperative. He is absolutely right to insist on jockstraps in the gym and other sports. He teaches his boys well not to squander what nature has gifted them. Nevertheless, in times of leisure, it does no harm to swing free a bit."
"That makes total sense," I said as I admired my reflection. Turning this way and that, and testing different poses, I noticed how some emphasized the bulge of my dick more or in different ways than others.
Captain Bill murmured his reactions as I did so, emitting an "ooh" or "aah" when it really stood out. "Now, as you may know," he added, "you have to be careful sitting and squatting when going commando. You can quickly end up revealing much more than you intend."
"Oh, I know," I agreed, "I once had a roommate who always went commando in his boxers at home and almost every time he sat down, there's be what our other roommate called a major dick slip!' But he didn't seem to really notice or care who saw it. I don't think I could ever be so laid-back about it."
"Well, it takes a bit of practice to master control. Jack used to love to practice over here and became quite good at managing the exact degree and moment of `slippage' that he wanted."
"Really?" I was surprised. "Buck complained about Jack constantly flashing him the family jewels in these shorts. I assumed it was accidental."
"Accidental? Ha! Nothing Jack does when showing off is accidental. He is the consummate expert. It irritates his dad, so he often does it just to tease him. You know, boys so desperately hunger for the attention of their fathers that they'll do anything to get it. But once you've witnessed Jack in action, there's no denying his skill. It's really something to behold."
This entire conversation was completely opposite to everything I'd been trying to do up until that moment. It took a while to sink in.
"You know, Hank, like Jack, you are welcome to come over and freeball whenever you feel the urge and to practice if you'd like."
"Thank you, sir." I said sincerely, "that is very kind of you. Although, I'm not sure I'm ever gonna wanna take off your jockstrap. It feels so special to wear it. Even more special now that you've told me so much."
"I'm glad you feel that way," he replied, almost blushing I thought. "Still, you have to admit you're also having fun looking at yourself full commando in Jack's shorts, aren't you?"
I had to laugh and admit, "Yessir, I can't lie about that," as I turned my gaze back to myself in the mirror.
"You know, you really do remind me of myself at your age."
"Really, sir?" I was surprised. "Why?"
"Buck mentioned that we have several things in common, did he not? Do you have any idea what those might be?"
"No, sir," I answered honestly.
"None at all?"
"No, sir." I repeated with equal sincerity.
"No?" he echoed as he sat back in his chair and lowered the lamp a bit further. "Well," he continued, "like you, when I was a boy, I often felt different, singled out, sometimes bullied." Suddenly, I realized that one of the legs of his loose running shorts was gaping, and from not far inside peaked the head of his dick.
I noted it looked rather thick and a little shiny before I quickly shifted my gaze elsewhere not wanting him to catch me looking. He continued with his story, "But I grew out of that and overcame it. I grew into a man proud of every bit of himself."
As he spoke, he inched closer to the edge of the chair, spreading his legs wider, allowing more of his dick to show. "And now," he said, "I have no shyness about myself. I think you could be like that too, son."
I gasped as I realized I saw a foreskin. Captain Bill was also uncircumcised! I'm sure my eyes bugged out as I took in this sight. "Of course," he went on, "it took me a while to fully appreciate the gifts that God had given me."
Despite the powerful urge, I felt too bashful to look straight on, and quickly turned away.
"Why do you shy away when you want to look?" he asked. "That signifies fear. What do you have to fear? Has it ever done you any harm?"
"No, sir. Of course not."
"Do you expect it to cause you any harm?"
"No, sir." At least I didn't think so...
"To fear something is to let it take power over you. You can control the power that you give to something. Go ahead," he calmly assured me, "Look. I have no reason to fear your looking. And neither do you. Look all you want until all your curiosity is satisfied. It does not bother me at all. Can you imagine feeling like that?"
I vigorously shook my head `no,' unable to speak at that moment.
"You will," he assured me. "Now, I want you to do a simple exercise with me. Take a deep breath, and then look directly at my mast while I count to ten. Do you think you can do that for me, son?"
I meekly nodded `yes.'
"Very well. Breathe in," and he pulled back the leg of his shorts to reveal his impressive tool in its full length. "And start: one, two, three..." he slowly counted out the seconds. At first, the sight almost burned my eyes, it felt so forbidden. I sensed that every muscle in my neck was straining to turn my head.
But then, the longer I looked at his dick, the more my attention was drawn to its details, the contours, the veins, the hang as it drooped over his balls, even the gentle pucker of his foreskin over the head. At "seven" he gently nudged it with a finger, so it rolled ever so slightly to the side.
"...ten." He completed his counting and tucked his penis back in his shorts. "Well done. This now joins us in a brotherhood. Can you feel that, son?"
I nodded my head. "Yessir, I believe I can."
"Good. You have taken an important step on your path. Now," and he playfully swatted my ass, "go put that jockstrap on before Buck has a heart attack, and hurry home. We'll see you tomorrow."