Sophomore Year

Sophomore Year 32

Charlie is the first client, or "buddy," that Hank has helped with in the gym, and even though Hank's had minimal experience or training, his assistance is turning out to be just what was needed, perhaps for everyone involved.

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Chapter 32

AND WARMER STILL

Shooting me a quick sideways glance, Buck said, "Y'know, Charlie, Boy Scout here's real good at choosin' the right swimsuit for a fellah. That's one of his, uh, specialties. Found me one the other day that's a real beaut. Just about gave me a hard on wearin' it, it was so nice."

"Is that right?" Charlie sounded intrigued and gave me an appreciative look.

And while I was always happy to hear a positive comment on my behalf, this confused me. I hadn't found Buck a swimsuit and definitely had not seen him try one on since we'd met. I didn't know what he was referring to.

Turning to me, Buck then said, "Why doncha go look through the suits we got upstairs and find a nice one for Mr. Charlie here, huh? Somethin' special that you think'll fit `im real good."

Sometimes I could be a little slow on the uptake. I stared at Buck blankly until he gave me a subtle wink. Then it finally hit me: I was to bring the suit we'd found yesterday at Mel's. This was the suit that I had originally selected for myself, but that Buck had wanted to reserve for one of his clients, or as he insisted we call them, his `buddies.'

Right away I liked this idea. I saw it as an opportunity to take revenge. I was still stinging from the humiliation of having to stand on display in front of Charlie in just my gooey briefs while he sat back and looked all he wanted.

After a lifetime as defenseless victim, these initial inklings of taking control smelled delicious. If we could trick Charlie into wearing that flimsy, stretchy suit in front of us, it would be like getting even. In a way, I thought, it would bring him down a peg.

Wrenching me from my scheming, Buck delivered a sharp slap to my butt. "Let's get a move on, Hankie boy, time's a-wastin'!"

Charlie seemed bemused by my getting spanked like a child, which only increased my anger at him. As I ran upstairs, I thought, now if I could just figure out a way to get him half hard and dripping in that suit where we could see him, then he'd suffer the same embarrassment that I had. He wouldn't act so smug and mighty. He'd see what it felt like.

I quickly found the suit and hurried back downstairs, roused by my plan for retribution. I slowed to a walk as I entered the gym. Charlie stood in front of Buck who had taken a seat by the small stage and seemed to be inspecting Charlie's basketball shorts up close. I overheard some comment about freeballing. They both looked up as I entered.

I approached slowly and presented the suit to Charlie as Buck had taught me, holding it up with both hands so it faced him. As Buck had explained, "If you want them to think it's somethin' special, then you gotta treat it like it's somethin' special."

I could see how this technique worked on Charlie. His eyes widened with anticipation as he watched the suit approach. He took it from me carefully. The eagerness to see what I had "chosen" just for him was written all over his face.

He held the suit up with delight, turning it this way and that. He excitedly rattled off a string of questions. "So, Hankie boy, you think this suit'll look real nice on me? Think it's gonna fit me real good? Show me off? Get me some good attention?"

I nodded enthusiastically, responding to each with the most encouraging words I could think of, while inwardly I snickered like a merry prankster who would get the last laugh on his tormentor.

Now it's true that the suit's retro movie star vibe had caught my eye in the store, and I'd thought it would be fun to try on in front of a mirror and maybe to wear around the house and possibly at the pool next door. But it was years if not decades out of style and sure to look out of place on a young guy at the beach. Besides, it was probably too small for him.

All the cool dudes would be wearing baggy board shorts. Charlie was going to come off as some backwards hillbilly parading down the boardwalk in that thing. I imagined guys and girls alike nudging each other and rolling their eyes when he walked by. But still, I continued reciting the most reassuring words that came to mind.

As Charlie and I nattered back and forth, Buck reached out from his chair and gently pulled me to him. Standing me between his legs, he slowly turned me sideways and quietly gestured for me to bend and place my hands on his left thigh. Since we were in the middle of a conversation that he was not attempting to interrupt, I followed along, curious what this was about.

I had just noticed the prickly texture of his furry leg when suddenly Buck yanked down my briefs in back and gave me three loud whacks on the ass. Right in front of Charlie! This of course cut short our chirpy chit-chat as I yelped and jumped away more in surprise than actual pain. I turned to look at Buck, puzzled.

Slowly, in a voice used with a child, Buck began, "Now, Hankie boy, Mr. Charlie here's bein' real nice about this suit you chose, but did you think to bring him a jockstrap for it?" My heart froze. How could I have forgotten a jockstrap, in this house of all places?

"You sayin' ya think this flimsy little suit's gonna give `im all the support he needs? A grown man of his size and dimensions? You tryin' to belittle his manliness? Or maybe you just confused him with one of your peewee little school friends?"

Tapping my still exposed butt with his fingers, he added, "I wouldn't blame Mr. Charlie here if he wanted to give you a couple of good whacks himself."

My cheery mood had crashed. As I pulled up my briefs, I felt like I was back to being the awkward nerd, scolded and punished for making stupid mistakes. I turned bright red from embarrassment and stammered and apologized and offered to run get one. But instead of getting angry, Charlie seemed to find amusement in my distress.

He chuckled good naturedly and leaned in close, placing a warm hand on my bare shoulder. "Tell ya what, Hankie boy," I could feel his breath on my face. "I'll go put this on as is, just like you brought it to me, without a single stitch on underneath." I winced thinking this was maybe to accentuate my error.

He continued, slowly and quietly, as though telling me a secret. "And I'll walk out here, and you look me over real good. Y'know, give me an old fashion inspection, OK? And then you can be the one to tell me if you think I need a strap or not. How bout that?"

I was so flummoxed by his tone and his words and their implications that I just sat there looking at him, blinking. And that seemed to amuse him even more. He tussled my hair, and looking over at Buck said, "I can see why you like this one. He's special. Boy Scout indeed."

"Yup, the real deal." Buck affirmed, and gently tweaked my nipple. Not enough to hurt, just to feel a warm jolt. He'd been doing that more and more lately. He then pointed behind Charlie, and said, "Go change in the massage room." Laughing he added, "Pretty sure you know where that is."

"Oh yeah, don't think I could ever forget!" Charlie cackled, their exchange leaving me a little puzzled.

Once Charlie had left, I turned to Buck, and the apologies spilled from my mouth. "I'm so sorry sir. I'm an idiot. I wasn't thinking, sir. I mean, you told me to go get the suit and I didn't think..."

Buck cut me off mid-sentence. "Are you kiddin'? That was perfect! He loves the attention. And all the talk about whether he's so big he needs a jockstrap or not? And havin' us inspect him real close? He's in heaven! He loves showin' off. You did great, son. Just perfect."

I looked at Buck confused while making a show of rubbing my stinging ass. Buck leaned forward in his chair and casually hooked a finger in the waistband of my briefs and gently tugged me closer again. "Aww, that was just for show, to make the whole thing more excitin'. Sorry if I bruised your tanks there. I was tryin' to make it loud but not too painful."

Then with one arm draped around my waist, he started patting various spots on my briefs, checking for dryness. While it was a bit cooler down here in the gym, it was still humid and nothing was drying fast.

Lingering on a few moist spots, Buck said, "I was worried ya might change out of your creamy little panties while you was up there. I'm glad ya didn't. The fact you're still wearin' `em makes everything seem more...relaxed."

While I was digesting this thought, in a move that was growing slightly less shocking each time, Buck pressed his nose into the crotch of my briefs and breathed deep. Coming up for air he said, "Mmm, kinda sweet. A little like Jack's. Cap'n'll like that." This last part confused me. What did the Captain have to do with the state of my `panties'?"

Before I could ask, Buck continued, "And next time you're playin' with yer leaky hose, Sailor," and here he jokingly grabbed my meat, "wear your damn jockstrap. That's where a man's juice belongs. `Sides, it'll be real fun to play in."

I stated to argue that I had indeed been `juicing up' my jockstrap and was about to recount what had happened in the library with Chip that morning. But I then noticed the effect that Buck's touching and rubbing had on me. I was now somewhere between half hard and full.

With still more to digest, I stood mute as Buck tugged and plucked at my "panties," adjusting and straightening them as though readying me for an event. At first, I was very nervous about him noticing my condition, but he seemed completely oblivious.

I'm sure this strikes some readers as very odd, but at the time, it actually felt sort of normal and domestic. I ended up just relaxing and relented, entrusting myself to Buck's paternal ministrations.

Causally chatting, Buck turned me around to face away from him. "Maybe next time, we'll suggest Charlie come try out jockstraps." Buck then casually pulled down my briefs in back and I swear I sensed him lean in close and sniff around my crack. "Doncha bet he'd get a kick outa that?" Buck tenderly stroked my bare ass and before snapping the waistband back in place said, "I got some nice lotion we can rub on there later if it's sore, OK?"

Believe it or not, I was less shocked by Buck's surprise bare-assed `pretend' spanking than I was to grasp the nature and scope of the game we were playing with Charlie here, and what my part in it might be. It appeared that Charlie didn't mind being on display at all. On the contrary, it sounded like he enjoyed exhibiting himself. Our role was that of attentive spectators.

This was a revelation. As a guy who'd been super shy all my life, I envied Charlie and secretly wished I could be more like him. Just admitting to Buck that I was not comfortable getting naked around other guys had been a major feat and the main reason I'd decided to live in his house was not only that did he not ridicule me, but that he had also been kind and understanding and offered to help me get over my fear.

Of course, it turned out that his way of `helping' was to force me into embarrassing situations, dragging me far outside my comfort zone. I thought about how exposed I'd been made to feel over the last few days: in Jack's shorts in front of Buck, and in that tiny suit in front of the captain, and in Jack's singlet in front of Earl and then Sonny, and later with Chip seeing and touching my jock pouch and now in these sticky briefs in front of Charlie.

Each time the terror of ridicule had flooded through me and yet, each time the reaction I got had been praise and acceptance, the exact opposite of what I'd feared. And, I had to admit, there had also been a buzz of excitement mixed with that fear. In those moments of forced exposure, fear and excitement had somehow intertwined to yield an intoxicating sensation.

Sounds from the massage room roused me from my ruminations. Checking out the suit more closely, Charlie was raving about how soft the fabric was and how he couldn't wait to feel in on. Soon we heard him holler, "Man, I LOVE this suit! It is so cool! I can't believe you chose this for me. Wow, Thank you, man!"

Buck elbowed me and winked. "I suspect right about now he'd pay a fortune for that suit." I marveled at Buck's mastery, how he could choreograph a situation that tapped into a guy's deepest motivations and then manage to make money from it.

"He'll be comin' out soon," Buck predicted. "So, you sit here," and he stood to change places with me, "and when he comes out, don't take your eyes off him."

Buck then stood slightly in front and to the side of me, his striped Dolphin shorts inches from my nose. While we waited for Charlie to appear, he reached a finger up under the shorts on each side, exposing at least half of each furry butt cheek, and carefully pulled straight the leg straps of his jock.

I gaped at the spectacle. Buck did this at least a dozen times a day, but it was a sight I never seemed to tire of. I only tore my eyes away when Charlie emerged from behind the curtain and paused outside the doorway. "OK, guys, ready? Now pretend we're on the boardwalk, and I'm just coming out of the changing room."

Charlie stepped into the gym and started walking slowly and deliberately across the gym in our direction. Without the tank top and basketball shorts, his physique was even more imposing. Like most muscular guys back then, he was not `ripped.' If anything, he was a bit beefy. But his overall proportions were impressive. He looked massive. Against his solid thickness, the suit seemed almost absurdly fragile and insubstantial.

Charlie seemed to walk towards me in slow motion. Buck's instructions not to take my eyes of him were completely unnecessary. I was transfixed.

With each step, the sheen of the fabric shimmered and danced. The suit's silky stretch clung to his anatomy and gave enough support to lift his meat up and out, but not enough to confine it or restrain its jiggling bounce. The heft of his balls rolled gracefully like ocean waves, lifting and shifting his dick like a mighty ship on the swells.

As its contents quivered and jostled, at various moments the suit revealed small details of Charlie's privates. The fabric was stretched so thin, it seemed when the light hit in certain ways that I could see through it. At one moment, the suit molded to a shape that could only be a foreskin. I gasped to realize that Charlie was uncut—just like me!

I felt like I'd been gazing for hours when Charlie paused to stand in front of us. "So, whaddya think, guys?" he asked eagerly, "Does it make an impression?"

"Just take a look at the kid's face" Buck laughed, pointing at me. My jaw was likely hanging open. "I think it's made an impression on him."

"Really?" Charlie beamed like a kid on Christmas morning. "So, what do you think, Hankie boy?" and he stepped forward and shifted and turned in front of me, presenting me with close-up side views and front views. "I mean, are you really lookin'?"

Buck laughed again, "He looks any harder, his eyes're gonna pop out!"

Buck pulled him back a step and squatted in front of him, his face just inches from the suit. Like a salesman in a clothing store, he started adjusting it with a series of pulls and tugs here and there and muttered admiringly.

I remembered how that had felt when Buck had done the same for me. I had stood near this very spot in Jack's white gym shorts. It was the first time I'd worn the captain's jockstrap. I recalled the feeling of Buck's laser-focused attention and once again felt that warm current run through me.

Charlie seemed to savor the spotlight. Rather than nervously fidget while someone plucked and stared at his most private parts, he casually spread his feet and locked his hands behind his head as though to give Buck total access.

After a few moments, Buck gently tugged up on the suit's waistband a few times, watching closely as he jostled Charlie's meat inside. "How's that feelin', Charlie? Comfortable?"

"Oh, yeah" Charlie laughed, "Gets any more comfortable and we're gonna have us a little problem here."

Buck seemed pleased. "Well, that's a sign of a really nice suit so we like hearin' that." Standing up, Buck gave a few more tweaks to the suit and said, "Tell ya what, walk back across the room again and let's get another look."

Charlie happily complied and getting to the far side of the gym, turned to face us and started walking back slowly, each step deliberate.

"That's it," Buck encouraged him, "now flex your abs so your hips shift a little more." Following Buck's instructions, Charlie stiffened his midsection, accentuating the rotation of his hips with each step, in effect swinging his meat back and forth. "Feel the nice movement that gives you up front?"

"Oh, yeah!" called Charlie, "That feels real good. I'll bet it looks good too."

Buck had taught me about monitoring and adjusting the position of my dick using the clock as a guide, whether it was positioned straight up at noon or to the side at three o'clock or nine o'clock or downwards at six. Watching Charlie's shifting bulge on his way back across the gym I'm pretty sure I saw him strike just about every hour of the day.

I watched as though hypnotized. His genitals were covered, yet accentuated. There was enough definition and detail to decipher the contents and the constant movement and shifting kept it riveting. I couldn't decide if he would look more naked if he'd actually been wearing nothing.

Either I had never seen a man's swimsuit look so explicitly and unabashedly manly or I had just never noticed. Being so shy and bashful, my eyes were often downcast out of fear of inciting some type of aggression or teasing. Now that I had seen it for myself, there was no denying that Charlie really did look like a superhero in that suit.

When Charlie returned to our side of the gym, Buck pointed to the platform in front of the mirror. "Stand up here so we can all get a really good look, right Hank?" Buck's mention of my name woke me from my stupor and I was shocked to realize Id been toggling my nipple again and was stiff more than half hard and leaking. What the hell was wrong with me? I quickly nodded yes' to Buck's question.

"He's still speechless!" Buck laughed. "OK, Charlie, now let's see a couple flexes in that suit." Buck modeled a few for Charlie to emulate and had him turn this way and that to show off different angles. Buck poured on the praise. I remained transfixed.

Then Buck called out, "OK, now let's give it a try at six o'clock."

"At what?" asked Charlie, looking totally puzzled.

"Oh, ya don't know about that? No problem. We'll give you a demo. Change places with Hankie there." Turning to me, Buck ordered, "C'mon, Sailor, get those tanks up here. Show us what you've learned."

I looked pleadingly at Buck, begging him not to make me get out of my chair. I had already been on forced display once today and now I was afraid it would be even worse. I was even harder than before, leaking more than before and would be literally on stage.

"C'mon," insisted Buck, "don't make me pull down those little panties again."

I reluctantly trudged up the steps while Charlie took a seat. "Face the mirror." Buck instructed me. "And Charlie, move your chair wherever you need to get the best view."

"Ok, Sailor, give us a three o'clock," Again, I looked pleadingly at Buck, very uncomfortable about sticking my hand down the front of my briefs and touching my hard dick in front of the two men.

"Or ya want us to do it for ya, huh? And don't think we won't." Buck had a gift for the art of intimidation. He always knew just what to say to make me jump out of my comfort zone.

I slowly pulled out the waistband of my briefs with one hand and reached inside with the other while both men watched intently.

Always ready to boost my embarrassment, Buck added, "I wonder if he's gonna have trouble getting a good grip on it with all that slippery syrup in there."

Charlie added, "Or get it to go anywhere but up once he's touchin' it." He laughed but quickly returned to the role of good cop. "Nothin' to be ashamed of. That's what I'm always tellin' my little brother. All just part of becoming a man."

He gave me friendly wink. "Same thing about poppin' wood. Not a reason in the world for a boy to hide his erection. It's somethin' to take pride in. I tell `im it makes me proud to see him sporting a nice stiff one. Means the men in the family are virile."

I suppose Charlie's attitude on the subject helped calm me some and the fright of being on such display helped deflate the situation, so to speak. I proceeded to adjust myself to the times that Buck called out, feeling a little more at ease with each. When he was satisfied that Charlie had got the concept, Buck made us switch places again. Relieved, I returned to my seat and watched as Charlie again took the stage.

Unlike me, however, Charlie looked delighted to have Buck tell him how to situate his dick and then comment on how it looked. While Buck kept up a running commentary of directions and praise, I remained mute, staring transfixed at another foreskin. After a lifetime of feeling like the only uncut guy on the planet, this was the second foreskin I had seen in less than a week.

"What's wrong, Hankie?" Charlie seemed puzzled by my silence. "Cat gotcher tongue?"

Sensing my mental state, Buck answered for me. "He's just not used to seein' what a grown man looks like in a suit that really fits. And just think, Charlie, if he's this impressed, imagine how the girls gonna react. They're not gonna be able to take their eyes off ya. Nobody is. You're gonna be the hero of the beach."

"You really think so?" Charlie asked like an eager puppy. "Think I'll find a girlfriend?"

"Trust me," Buck assured him, "That suit's gonna get ya a lot of attention. I guarantee you're gonna have a day to remember."