Sophomore Year

Sophomore Year 35

The telling of Thursday keeps stretching out like a lifeguard on break. I'd thought the visit to Captain Bill's would wrap up quickly, but Mr. Akins demands his time on stage and I think you'll agree he can be pretty persuasive.

I thank my readers for their admirable patience which I hope finds its reward in each new installment. Many thanks to all those who continue to send encouragement and share their own experiences and fantasies. Our correspondence inspires!

In this chapter, Mr. Akins' unapologetically blunt and crude manner provides a perfect foil for Hank's bashful but unintentional innocence.

And remember - Nifty depends on our donations! Let's help it survive and thrive! If you have ever shot a load reading a Nifty post, then please consider contributing at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Chapter 35

Mr. Akins' eyes lit up at Jeff's idea, but the captain remembered, "Say, aren't you fellows due at work fairly soon?"

"Oh, shit, yeah." Jay and Jeff looked crestfallen as they pulled up their briefs in back and shuffled over to the table to rest their paddles.

"And whaddya boys say to the cap'n?" Mr. Akins reminded them.

"Oh, yeah, thanks Cap'n Bill," they chorused. "This has been great."

"No problem, boys." The captain wrapped a hand around each boy's butt cheek and gave a squeeze. "You know you're welcome any time."

The boys reacted with a big smile and then turning to me with high fives chorused, "Alright, New Guy, see ya around!" "Yeah, gonna have to teach me that serve!" And with rapid double pinches, "Better get those nips ready for Sheila!"

I was suddenly shy again. "Uh, best of luck in your, uh, joint ventures." I hazarded.

Their faces brightened. "Don't miss it, man!" they urged and once again, pressed their cheeks together and stuck out their tongues making slurping noises and moaning. It was quite a sight. I was half hard again in no time.

"That poor girl," the grown men pretended to mourn. "She'll never know what hit her." "Watch out you don't drown in all those juices she's gonna be drippin'."

"Drippin' more than Jay?" Jeff laughed, flicking the damp front of his friend's briefs.

Laughing, the boys exited the house still in just their underwear. "Did they leave home like that?" I asked surprised.

"Prob'ly," Mr. Akins shook his head smiling. "They love ridin' `round in just their drawers."

"Or worse," added the captain. "Being boys, they show up here all the time mostly naked. They think it's a hoot."

During a slight pause, I started to picture the boys in various moments of what must be their often-naked lives. Another small spurt of dribble out my foreskin shocked me back to the moment. "So," I asked, "Buck said you wanted my help with something?"

"Good boy for remembering." The captain's deep voice hummed in my ear as a series of firm pats on my butt made me vibrate all over. I was growing to love this praise and affection like a drug. I almost didn't hear him as he continued.

"Leaves and bugs once again beset us in the pool. And the services forever fail to adequately address the problem. I seek your help on two fronts. The first, to simply clean the pool. But on the second, I wish to take some pictures for an instructional manual I'm making to guide anyone who comes over in the future. How does that sound?"

It sounded very cool to me, that I would get to be part of something bigger. I had no idea exactly what I would need to do but was willing to try. "Sure," I answered, "happy to help, sir. Do you want me to be in some kind of uniform or anything?"

Mr. Akins butted in. "I'd say you're dressed just about perfect as is."

"Well," the captain reasoned, "Bobby's right, you do look just fine just as you are but this will require you getting in the pool. Let's give your briefs a chance to, uh, air out a bit, don't you think? I've got a nice pair of shorts I believe will serve well for this purpose. Sound acceptable?"

"Yessir," I agreed, "or I can run get Jack's white shorts if you think those would be better." I was wearing those shorts the first time I met the captain, and still remembered the zing of modeling them for him, both wearing his jockstrap and freeballing, in front of his mirror. I loved the idea of doing that again.

I was also tempted to mention the skimpy swimsuit he'd lent me that night. Modeling that for him, with my butt crack showing had been kind of scary but also thrilling. However, that suit was really too daring to wear both in front of the camera and Mr. Akins.

"Good of you to offer, son, and you in those shorts are indeed an impressive sight, but Buck has his gym group in session and I'm not sure we'd be able to get you out of there so easily. They'll soon enough have a chance to meet you. And vice versa. I think the pair I've got here will work just fine, and we can air out your `panties' in the interim."

I was a little confused about why getting me out of the gym would be an issue plus a little embarrassed by his use of the term `panties' to refer to my briefs. Buck did it all the time and at first, I'd been shocked and not certain if it was demeaning. But now I'd grown used to it and even took it as a sign of affection. But I wasn't sure how Mr. Akins would take it.

Also embarrassing was his mention of airing out my briefs, reminding me of how much I'd been leaking into them today. I had never thought of myself as a big dripper in the past, but the past few days I'd had conversations and encounters that had really got my juices flowing. Buck had said it was a natural part of becoming a man and not to worry about it.

The captain left to look for the shorts leaving me with Mr. Akins who continued smiling in his good-natured way. I noticed he was looking at my chest. "Y'know, Hank," he said, "I keep thinkin' you got just the kinda chest a girl would love to work over." I blushed at the thought.

"I know ya always hear about guys sucking on a girl's titties, but truth is, a lotta guys enjoy getting' a lil' love and affection in that area too. Specially if they got real nice nips, like yours. And if ya let em, you can learn a hellava lot about how to become a titty master yourself."

It was funny how in some ways, it sounded like he was just explaining how to fix a lawn mower or some other routine topic. But the way he was looking at and praising my chest was making me feel warm everywhere. Also, I was transfixed by what he was telling me and desperately wanted to hear more.

Suddenly, Mr. Akins changed topics. "Hey, you wanna beer? A beer's soundin' great to me." After all I'd been through that day, with Chip in the library and Charlie in the gym and almost busting a nut and then getting interrupted, and now all this talk about eating pussy, I thought a beer sounded great too.

I nodded `yes' and he went off to the kitchen while I stood there, my head swimming and my dick half hard from what he'd been telling me as well as everything that had happened this day. I hoped a beer would help calm my thoughts.

Mr. Akins returned with two cold bottles of beer and said, "Hey, close your eyes a sec and I'll show ya somethin'."

I did as he instructed, shutting my eyes tight. Anticipation mounted as I heard him step closer and then lightning struck as he brought each bottle of beer in contact with my exposed nipples. I shuddered and whimpered from the thousand sensations coursing through my body.

My eyes shot open as I clutched my hands over my chest, my breath heaving as I looked at Mr. Akins wide-eyed, trying to make sense out of what just happened.

"See, that's how the element of surprise makes a big difference. You never want em knowin' what's comin' next, OK? You wanna play with hot and cold, soft and rough, slow and fast, just keep em guessin'. Got it?"

I numbly nodded. I mean, of course it made sense. I had just experienced it for myself. But to think that three days ago, my nipples had only been a source of shame for me and now I was showing them to guys I'd hadn't even met who were admiring them, and Buck and others were tweaking and pinching them and even I was starting to squeeze them and experiment with all the fascinating sensations that came from them. It was all a bit too crazy to contemplate.

Mr. Akins continued. "You probably ain't noticed, but that Buck Bryant's got him one exceptional set o' nips. Damn things stick out to here!" and he held a hand at an exaggerated distance from his chest. "And thick? Those suckers `bout like my thumb!" I was not about to admit that Buck's chest fascinated me and that those nipples were indeed amazing both in length and girth.

"'Course ya know how they got so big." He looked at me as though I had a ready explanation. Instead, I shrugged my shoulders. He provided it himself. "Getting' those titties worked on!" I'm sure I looked incredulous. Mr. Akins insisted. "Buck may love suckin' titties but I can guarantee ya he loves gettin' his own titties sucked on even more! And that's what makes `em grow! Ya always wanna make sure they're gettin' attention!" And he pinched and pulled on his own nipples to illustrate.

Something I'd heard days ago came back to me. I half whispered, half recited, "the more ya work `em..."

"The more they work! That's it!" Mr. Akins gleefully slapped me on the ass as though congratulating me for retaining this valuable lesson. Then he returned to his lecturing mode. "And the fact that your nips stick out some gives ya an advantage." Mr. Akins wiped a finger down the beer bottle I was holding and then with his cold wet fingertip traced a circle around my nipple.

I did my best to maintain composure as a zillion little lightning bolts coursed through my body. I attempted to nod attentively to his remarks while my body shook, and more dribbles leaked through my foreskin.

Mr. Akins then returned to our casual chat as though nothing unusual had just happened. "Glad you showed up, Hank. Been dyin' for a swim all afternoon but Cap'n said had to wait for this nice young sailor boy to come by. Said you was really somethin'."

I blushed, not knowing how to respond. He continued, "You enjoy meetin' the boys? They're good kids, just a little full of their oats is all. But they're a lotta fun. They get an idea in their head, like right now, it's eatin' out a girl's pussy together."

I was still stunned by how casually he talked about this.

"They been talkin' bout that nonstop all day. Hope that girl works out for em. But even if she don't, I think they get almost as much fun outa thinkin' and talkin' `bout it. Bet they're jerkin' off over it right now." And he laughed.

"Say, ya ever eat a girl's pussy, Hank?" He posed the question casually, but I almost dropped my beer in shock.

I stumbled to answer. "Uh, no sir."

"Well, no hurry," and he calmly took a swig of beer. "Good lookin' fellah with a build like yours gonna have plenty of girls spreadin' their pussy lips for `im to dive into."

This made me feel warm, too, being called good looking and the fact that anybody made a positive comment about my body and thought girls would find me attractive. And that this grown man used such raw language with me, as if I weren't a kid.

"Ya know," he went on, "the boys was serious about you joinin' in and lettin' that girl get busy on your tits. Think that'd be fun?"

I turned red and could not answer. Mr. Akins stared off in the distance, envisioning the scene for me. "Hearin' the two of them slurpin' and lickin' down there, getting their faces all wet `n sticky while she's suckin' and nibblin' on your titties like a champ. She'll probably jerk ya off, too, or if not, bet you could talk one the boys into doin' it and ya end up spurtin' all over her maybe splash them a bit too."

As I listened to his detailed depiction of this wild sex scene, a loud buzz cranked up in my ears, like cicadas at dusk. Almost in seconds, my raging hardon was straining against my cotton briefs, dripping like a leaky faucet. I'd never been so turned on in the actual presence of another person.

"Sounds like fun, don't it?" he chuckled, glancing at my reaction. He then calmly stared off in the distance again, lost in his own vision while my mind was exploding at the unimaginable scene he had described. I could see he was swelling too and pulling at his balls.

I'd never had the chance to muse about sexual exploits with other guys before. I figured it must be normal to get real excited. I didn't think I'd ever been hotter or more aroused in my life, even looking at porn. I hoped I'd get to do this a whole lot more. I couldn't wait to jerk off with Chip and hoped we'd talk about all kinds of sex acts.

Just then the captain came back with the shorts in his hand. "Well, looks like you two gentlemen are hitting it off," noting the beers in our hands and the bulges in our briefs. I thought he might be angry, but he just smiled at me and said, "Whenever you're, uh, ready, you can try these on." And he held up a very nice pair of white shorts with blue trim.

"I think you'll like these a lot and the way they fit." He paused then smiled, "Once you've, uh, relaxed a bit." Three days ago, I would have died right then and there of humiliation. But these men did not seem overly perturbed by my youthful erection, just mildly amused.

The captain smiled as he looked from my swollen crotch back to the shorts he was holding. "Now, don't tell Buck, but these have no liner and I didn't bring you a jockstrap, thinking you might enjoy a bit of freeballing while you have the chance?"

My head was spinning so fast I'm not sure what I thought, but nodded that yes, these would do fine. I was just hoping that my boner would deflate before long so I would not make a total spectacle of myself when I tried them on.

"Oh, man!" exclaimed Mr. Akins, grabbing the shorts out the captain's hands. "These are perfect! They look like one of those snappy uniforms at a resort, y'know? And I'll bet they're gonna fit amazin'. Get that Sheila's juices flowin' just lookin' at `im."

"Yes, Bobby," the captain replied calmingly, taking back the shorts, "the fit is sure to be flattering and the look professional. Let's not scare the poor boy now." And he gave Mr. Akins a stern look. He then smiled at me and said, `Take all the time you need to finish up your beer and, uh, settle down so can get into them."

There were only a few sips left which I downed easily. Handing me the shorts, the captain pointed me to the laundry room, where I had changed clothes on my last visit, and said to just hang my briefs out to dry a bit' on the clothesline. Holding my new uniform' close, I headed down the hallway.

Closing the door behind me, I set the shorts on the washer and slowly peeled off my underwear. I held them up to inspect the wet spots which were clearly evident but not quite so overwhelming as I'd feared.

Part of me wanted to hide the evidence of my boyish `leakage' but at least they would not be out in plain sight. I wasn't sure they'd dry all that much in the humid afternoon but turned them inside out and pinned them up on the line anyway.

I splashed some cold water on my face and recited multiplication tables and the Pledge of Allegiance twice and half a rosary until my dick has descended to a more or less flaccid state. I then slipped on the shorts. They were as snug as Jack's, though not quite so soft and stretchy. They were smoother and slightly stiffer, a little more like satin or nylon than cotton. They felt cool and very comfortable.

The captain was right, there was no liner and without a jockstrap, there was nothing to offer me any support. Within a step or two, my dick has slipped and was lying down the side of my leg, a sensation I was starting to enjoy.

The crotch seam came rather high, so I had to choose whether to place my balls on the other side of center or together with my dick. If I placed all my meat on the same side, the bulge was larger and more noticeable. I was starting to enjoy seeing my package `on display,' and the beer I'd just finished made the idea more tempting, but reason—or bashfulness—won out, and I decided to go subtle, thinking that I'd be on camera and all.

When I came back out, both men had been waiting in the den with arms crossed as though impatient. I was afraid that maybe I'd taken too long, but their immediate reactions were so positive, all such fears evaporated. Their faces lit up in happy admiration.

The captain sat at the foot of his usual recliner and gestured for me to come stand in front of the mirror so he could inspect and adjust. Mr. Akins started to slide a chair over for himself, but the captain stopped him and instead requested he fetch us all beers and restock some more in the fridge.

"How do you think they look?" he bid me to study myself in the mirror. Once Mr. Akins was safely out of the room, the captain leaned close as though to pull a small thread and said in a low voice, "Don't mind Bobby. He means well. He just gets...enthusiastic sometimes." I wasn't exactly sure what he meant, but thought I caught the general meaning.

The shorts looked good. `Sharp' was a word that came to mind, with the bright blue piping along the sides contrasting with the clean white of the rest. The fit was snug but not tight. The slight bulge where my dick lay along one side and my balls the other looked reasonably discrete.

The captain seemed to be examining my reaction as much as the shorts themselves. I was growing more relaxed with the constant tugs and pulls that always formed part of a `fitting' in these households. And I had to admit, I enjoyed the attention though I wondered how much he'd noticed how I'd placed my meat.

"So," he asked, as though reading my mind, "I see you've chosen to split the package. Are you comfortable like that?"

"Yessir," I blushed, "I guess so. I tried putting everything on the same side and, well, it..."

"...made more of an impression?" he finished the thought for me.

"Yessir." Now I was really blushing.

"And did you find the effect too...manly?" It was weird how he knew the way into my mind's workings.

"I guess I figured with the camera and, uh, new people..." glancing towards the kitchen.

"Tell you what," and the captain's eyes lit up with mischief, "Why don't you give it a try now, and we'll have another look? And..." he repeated my glance towards the kitchen, "we'll see the reaction."

His spirit of play was contagious and before I knew it, I had reached in and, cupping my dick and balls together as he watched closely, suddenly paused, unsure of which side to choose. I made a slight movement to the left, keeping a close eye on the captain's reaction. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. I changed course and piled it all to the right and he smiled up at me warmly. It may seem a silly game, but I was having lots of fun at it.

Mr. Akins came back clutching three beers and came to an abrupt stop, looking in the mirror as though transfixed. The glass bottles started to clink and rattle in his grip. "Bobby, set those beers down before you drop them!" the captain laughed. "Anyone would think you'd never seen a handsome young man before in well-fitting shorts. And we both know that's not true!"

Mr. Akins set the beers down on a small table and stood behind me. In the mirror I could see his gaze eagerly roaming over both the reflection of my front in the mirror as well as my rear directly in front of him.

"Well, what do you think of our sailor here?" The captain asked him, still seated before me and, like a tailor, fussing and adjusting the fit with his face just inches away.

Imitating our host, Mr. Akins reached out and gently tugged the rear waistband of the shorts, pulling the center seam up into my butt crack several times. The sensation was electric. "The front looks great," he stammered, "but the back..."

"Yes? What about the back?" and the captain gently turned me around by the hips so that my rear faced the mirror. Mr. Akins reached around and continued tugging up on the back of the shorts, causing me to arch my back and lift my butt. I had to admit the effect was captivating.

As I've said, I always knew I had a larger than average ass. Some serious cake' as they might put it these days. That was partly due to genetics and partly due to the serious glute workouts from swimming, track and wrestling. Several coaches had referred to my powerful thrust' off the starting block or `solid foundation' on the mat.

In early adolescence I'd received a few comments about my butt that I wasn't sure how to take and later in high school the cruel teasing had given me something of a complex. Since then, I'd done everything I could to hide it wearing baggy pants and long loose shirts and hoodies.

And yet here it was, on full display and the object of praise and admiration by those whose opinion mattered most to me, grown men. It was a surprise, a wonderful, amazing surprise.

Mr. Akins seemed fascinated by the fit of the shorts and kept tugging them up higher and higher. The shorts were squeezing my nuts and pressing against my butthole. The sensation was almost overpowering. I feared if he continued, he might lift me off the ground.

Ever the voice of reason, the captain cautioned, "Very well, Bobby, I believe we've sufficiently tested the fabric's resilience and found it more than adequate. Shall we release him now and let sensation return to his lower extremities?" His elegant manner of giving orders so they didn't sound like orders made me smile.