Sophomore Year

Sophomore Year 36

The multiple tensions ignited by Thursday's encounters build to a climax for young Hank, bringing him greater clarity about his path forward.

As always, I thank my readers for their abiding patience and suspect this chapter may deliver some reward. Many thanks as well to those whose correspondence continually inspires!

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Chapter 36

The captain led me out to the pool where leaves and bugs were indeed floating on the surface. With camera in hand, he instructed me to hold still at key moments in the cleaning process. First, I reached up high to retrieve the skimmer net from its perch. Then he knelt in front of me for several closeups as I adjusted the telescopic pole. Next, we did several poses as I skimmed the debris from the water's surface.

Meanwhile, Mr. Akins had opened another beer and pulled up a patio chair to watch. His penchant for baldly explicit conversation remained intact. "Hey, Hank," he called across the pool, "how far you reckon you shoot your juice?" I almost dropped the net in shock.

"Now, Bobby," the captain lowered the camera and gave him an exasperated look, "what's that got to do with pool cleaning?"

Undeterred, Mr. Akins went on. "I ever tell you bout that time I won fifty dollars in a shootin' match? Swear to God! Down at that Jolly Roger Motel at the beach. Bunch o' soldiers were braggin' bout how they was real men in the army and how the navy was a bunch of sissies and, well, one thing led to another and they ended up bettin' they could outshoot me."

"Well," he laughed, "they made a big mistake that day. Ain't never met a fellah could shoot as far as Bobby Akins! Some o' the easiest money I ever made. Even hit one of em in the face! Now, that was a sight! Shoulda heard his buddies howl! Wouldn't let im wash it off neither."

I'm sure my eyes were wide as saucers listening to this tale. The captain gave me a wink and said, "Yes, yes, Bobby, you are indeed a man of many talents. Tell you what, before you launch into your next tale, would you be so kind as to check on the laundry room?"

I thought for sure Mr. Akins would balk at such a mundane task, but surprisingly, his face lit up and off he went, his step lively and whistling a tune. Once he was out of hearing, the captain turned to me. "I hope you don't mind Bobby's, uh, enthusiasms, shall we say? He really means no harm but has very few filters when it's just men around. He's been that way since the Navy and I'm sure before that."

"Oh, no sir. I actually get kind of a kick out of his stories." I laughed. "You never know what he's gonna say next. And he's been real nice to me." And the truth was, I'd found his tale of soldiers and sailors competing to see who could ejaculate the farthest inexplicably stirring. I hoped the captain didn't notice its effect on me.

"I'm glad to hear that. As I say, he means no harm. In fact, I suspect he might be trying to impress you." As he said this, someone turned up the music that had been playing from the den, drowning out any sounds from inside the house.

I couldn't imagine why such an imposing adult male, covered in furry muscle and father of a strapping young man of his own, would give a fig about impressing a pudgy little nerd like me. But I found the idea intoxicating, almost as intoxicating as the icy cold beers I'd been served all afternoon. It felt like the events of the last few days were stirring up my insides and in the growing commotion things were coming loose from their usual moorings.

The captain instructed me to return the skimmer net to its perch and retrieve the pool brush from its hooks above it. This required me to balance on tip toe to reach it. The captain asked me to hold my pose as he moved in close and squatted behind me for the angle he sought.

"Sometimes the boys they send can't reach these tools and resort to the most imaginative combination of tables and chairs to climb up to it. Even though we've left a small stepping stool right here."

So, the captain next took a series of me bending over to lift the stool from its place under a shelf and then once I'd mounted it, he wanted several shots from all angles. Most were fairly easy but the shots in front required him to sort of squeeze between me and the wall and then drop down low for the angle he wanted.

It was awkward and at moments threw us both off balance. The captain grasped my leg to steady us and something almost electric buzzed in his strong warm grip. He was so close his breath tickled my legs. The camera lens bumped up and down against my inner thigh as he searched for the perfect angle.

I worried that my being a total amateur at this and our clumsy juxtaposition required for the shot would frustrate and ultimately disappoint the captain, but instead he seemed very animated by the moment, uttering a constant stream of "Perfect! Beautiful! Incredible! Gorgeous!"

The cumulative effect of the beer and the touching and the warmth was leading my shorts to grow tighter in the crotch. I worried the swelling could spoil the shot and started to glance down to see how much it might be intruding.

"Don't look down!" The captain hurried to say, "Remember, you're retrieving the brush and need to keep your eye on what you're doing." This made sense so I held my upward gaze while the camera clicked and whirred below.

"Well," Mr. Akins startled me as he walked back out on the patio, holding a beer in one hand while licking between his fingers on the other, "glad to say I ain't lost it."

"Haven't lost what?" I asked.

Plopping in a chair, Mr. Akins took a swig of beer, gave an enormous belch and cooly replied, "My marksmanship, of course."

The captain warned, "I hope you haven't left any...stray bullets, my friend."

"Not to worry, Chief. Got em all. Cept maybe a few landed where others had before. Made it hard to tell."

"Let's hope so" the captain responded dryly. In my addled state I was totally mystified by this exchange. I had not heard any gunfire that afternoon.

Mr. Akins calmly scratched his belly and let rip an enormous fart. I'm not sure I'd ever seen anyone so utterly relaxed. "Go have a look yourself if ya don't believe me. Put that expert nose to work. That is, if ya can tear yourself away from your, uh, art. Looks like you're gettin' some real inspiration there."

The captain seemed unexpectedly befuddled. He quickly stood and turned to face the wall fiddling with his camera. "Uh, Hank, let's take five. Go get yourself a beer in the kitchen, why don't you?"

"Yessir, thank you, sir." I kept any questions to myself and made a beeline for the fridge. I'd learned enough in life by then to know when I was being politely told to scram. From the kitchen, I could hear animated conversation coming from the patio, but couldn't decipher any of the words.

Then the record player inside stopped and suddenly I could make out bits of their conversation.

"...was worried `bout how Buck was gonna get by without Jack around."

"'Think we all were."

"I tell ya, he sure hit the jackpot with this one, huh? Sweeter `n sugar!"

"And you should see him in Jack's singlet—knock your eyes out!

"I'll bet Buck's just crazy bout im, huh?"

"Better believe it. I mean, who wouldn't be? Anyway, let me go assess the quality of your `marksmanship'."

A short time later, the music returned. About then, I had finished my beer and Mr. Akins called for me to bring him another. He remained seated in the same chair, legs spread wide. Shifting his voice to imitate the captain, he said "Our host regrets his absence due to an item of business requiring his attention and will return shortly to resume photographic recording. In the interim, he requests that you initiate the pool scrubbing."

Laughing at his antics, I picked up the long-handled pool brush and got to work, paying particular attention to any spots where I detected signs of algae. I couldn't get out of my head the bits of conversation I'd just overheard. I was hoping my head would stop spinning and the day might return to something more normal.

Those hopes were dashed as Mr. Akins picked up his previous thread of conversation. "So, you cut or uncut, Hank?" He had a knack for unnerving questions.

"Uh, uncircumcised, sir." I blushed.

"Yeah, that's what I figgered, just from what I could tell lookin' at your `panties.' And those cute little shorts."

I had to catch my breath. The implications were several and alarming. Did this mean he had been inspecting' me during the ping pong game? Were these shorts more revealing than I'd realized? And was everybody going to start following Buck's example and refer to my underwear as panties?'

Like I said, I had gotten used to Buck doing it because, stupid as it sounds, I'd thought it was something kind of `special' between us. Like that silly pet name that you're fine with if it comes from your parent or child or partner or bestie, but you don't allow anyone else to use it.

"Yeah," Mr. Akins went on, shaking me from my thoughts, "'Had some buddies was uncut in the Navy. Very cool. Made me wish I had a foreskin, too. But no," he sighed, "just another circumcised dick hangin' `tween my legs. Pretty hairy though." While he spoke, he rubbed and pulled at his dick through his briefs. I held still, half expecting him to pull it out as a visual aid.

Instead, he propped a leg over the armrest, spreading his legs still wider, and asked, "So you purty good `bout keepin' clean under that foreskin, Sailor?"

"Uh, yessir." His line of questioning was unsettling. I felt compelled to add, "Daily, sir." My uncle had taught me.

"That right?" he took a swig of beer and then reached down between his legs and with his middle finger started absentmindedly bouncing his balls. "Think you'd pass inspection?"

Stunned, I dropped the brush in the pool and then quickly dove in to retrieve it. Returning the brush to the ledge, I swam over to the ladder and climbed out, dripping just a few feet in front of Mr. Akins.

"Lord Almighty!" he exclaimed, sitting up straight.

"What?" I asked, "Is anything wrong?" while shaking the water out of my hair.

"Uh, no, no." he calmed down quickly. "Just scared for a minute is all. Glad ya know how to swim. Why doncha just stand there for a sec and catch your breath?"

"Thanks, sir, but I'm alright. I'm a good swimmer."

"Just the same, stay there. Tell ya what, lemme grab a quick picture of ya, alive and well." He reached for the camera. With machine in hand, he once again leaned back, spread his legs wide and tossed a leg over the arm rest. "How `bout ya gimme a nice pose there, sailor?"

Almost out of habit, I locked my hands behind my head, as Buck had taught me. It really did help me relax in these situations where otherwise I'd be tempted to fidget. I really didn't understand Mr. Akins' panicked reaction to my jumping in the pool but did not mind the attention or modeling for these men.

"So," he continued snapping photos, "you like to jerk off?" Did this man not know how to make normal conversation? I'm sure I looked shocked. "Sure ya do. What man with a set o' balls don't? What's the point o' havin' a dick if ya don't play with it?"

I giggled nervously while he chuckled and swigged from his beer. "Now, I know some fellas will stroke it dry, but I gotta get it slicked up with some kinda lube. How `bout you, son? Dry or wet?"

I was still learning how to be `a man among men,' as the captain had put it, and did not want to come off as a prudish nerd. I took a deep breath to settle my nerves. "Uh, lube, sir." I managed to mumble.

"Yeah, ain't it great, just kickin' back, greasin' up your pole, and goin' at it? Open a cold one, break out the porn. Shit, don't get much better `n that!"

To be honest, I had rarely missed a chance to masturbate. I mean, what 19-year-old does? The problem was, I didn't get that many chances, and never to take my time and savor it, like he was describing.

Because of dorm or roommate situations, it was always furtive and rushed, whether in the shower while the next in line waited impatiently, under the covers late at night or in a locked stall in an empty restroom.

Jacking off as Mr. Akins painted it sounded like heaven. Not worrying about getting caught or making noise. This reminded me of my new `cum brother' Chip in the library this morning and his invitation to look at porn together in his dorm. That would surely lead to stroking together, wouldn't it? And hadn't he mentioned some kind of lube? That sounded tantalizing and caused some more swelling.

"Even more fun with a bud of course," Mr. Akins added, as though reading my mind. "That Jay and Jeff, they stroke buddies of the first order," he laughed. "Always jackin' it together. Break in'a my porn and lube stash ever' time I turn my back." He laughed again. I wondered if they returned his magazines with more pages stuck together than before, like Chip's.

The drift of this conversation, the mental images it was triggering, and Mr. Akins' louche attitude were getting me riled for the umpteenth time that day. I could feel a warmth in my belly descending to the very center of my testicles.

"They have a great ole time those boys. Tell ya the truth, I don't know last time Jay stroked jus' by hisself. Las' week, when Jeff was outa town seein' his folks, Jay come in'a my room all pitiful like and I said, what's wrong, Jay Bug?' and he whines, Pa, I ain't got nobody to jerk with.'"

This turn of the story had me absolutely riveted. "So, I says, well, go get my lube and pick out some good porn and let's have us a session right here!' Well, you'd think I'd told im it was Christmas!"

I'm sure the look on my face betrayed my amazement. Could this really be true? As if assuring any doubts, Mr. Akins said, "I think it's real special when a boy can jack with his daddy, don't you? I know I'll never forget the times I did with mine. He taught me so much."

I think I started to lose my balance and sway a bit. I reached down and grabbed the ladder rail to steady myself for a moment. I considered jumping back in the pool, just to clear my head. But at that moment the captain came back out to the patio, his cheeks flushed and drying his hands on a small towel.

"Attention!" Mr. Akins imitated a voice over a loudspeaker, "Officer on deck!" And then, slightly teasing, "How we doin' there, Cap'n? Ever'thing come out all right?"

"Ensign Robert Akins," the captain responded in a mildly scolding tone, "you are a very bad influence."

"I do my best, sir." Mr. Akins laughed. "But looky here, I've been gettin' our young model all ready for the next shoot. I think you'll agree he appears, uh, motivated. Might I recommend a few more shots comin' outa the pool?"

The captain looked me over and his face brightened. Without taking his eyes off me, he snapped his fingers, held the towel out to Mr. Akins and barked, "Camera." Handing off the camera, Mr. Akins took the hand towel and pressed it to his face. "Ah, the sweet smell of success!" he muttered, leaving me more puzzled than ever.

The captain had me hold the brush while descending the steps at the shallow end of the pool, one by one until the water was up to my waist. Then he instructed me to back up a step or two and started shooting me in various poses. We repeated this several times. So much attention from these men was intoxicating.

As he clicked away muttering things like, "Excellent!" "Perfect!" "Beautiful!" I happened to look down and see that the shorts, now wet, had turned see-through and were clinging everywhere. I cautioned him to stop shooting as the photos would be unusable and a waste of film. The captain looked puzzled and said, "Oh, from here you can't see a thing. It must be the perspective or something."

"Here, let me take a look," offered Mr. Akins. He got out of his chair and approached from several angles, peering closely at the shorts. "OK, so crouch down and get them really wet again," which I did. "Once more," he instructed. Staring sharply, he asked, "I'm not seein' a problem there. You, Cap'n?"

"No, none at all." He responded enthusiastically. "These are going to make for terrific photos."

Since he was the expert, I let it go and continued with the rest of the shoot. I'd never really had my picture taken like that, especially by someone as knowledgeable and professional as the captain. And, as I say, I was finding the attention and praise of these men more intoxicating that the beers they'd been giving me all afternoon. It was fun, and overall, I'd have to say I truly enjoyed it.

When we wrapped up, the captain handed me a towel and Mr. Akins handed me another cold beer. "I'd say this calls for a celebration. I bet those photos gonna get studied real close by a lotta fellers come over here, right, Cap'n?"

"I'd say so. They make clear things that guys will be very curious about."

I was feeling pretty dizzy by then, both from all the attention and all the beer, plus the shockingly explicit chit chat. I felt like I was in a fog of some kind. It was time to wrap up and head back next door.

The captain then asked Mr. Akins to bring out my briefs from the laundry room. By this time, I expected them to be almost dry. Imagine my surprise to find they were slicker and wetter than ever!

I was taken aback and held them at arm's length, wondering what to do. There were actual gobs of what looked like cum in the crotch. The captain and Mr. Akin watched me, sharing frequent looks between them.

Noting my hesitation, the captain sought to soothe and encourage me. "I as well anticipated that they would have dried a good more by now, but perhaps you spilt a bit more cream into them than you realized."

He went on. "This is not an infrequent occurrence among men of your tender age. You have no cause for embarrassment, my boy. On the contrary, men take pride in every evidence of their virility."

Mr. Akins stepped close, inspecting them. Pointing to a dollop of sperm, he said, "Look close. That there's the essence of life." I had never really inspected it before, disposing of it down the toilet or in the trash as quickly as possible. I examined it now and marveled at how it glistened and shimmered in the light.

"Manhood distilled in a drop." Intoned the captain.

I stared hypnotized, amazed how my very own balls had produced this velvety syrup.

Mr. Akins enthused, "Yeah, you should pull those babies on with pride, sailor. That man juice gonna coat your balls n make em grow heavy. Ya gonna feel the charge of all that testosterone up against your gonads."

My head spinning and my balls simmering, I numbly agreed. The captain led me back to the laundry room and stood outside the door while I went in to change.

"Just hang those shorts on the line when you pull them off. I'll rinse them out later." I did as he instructed. "Now, are you fully undressed?" I affirmed I was. Having him just on the other side of the door as I stripped naked was a little thrilling.

"Very well. Ready to pull those briefs back on?"

"Yes, sir." I answered as though hypnotized.

"Good boy. Now, tell me what you feel as you pull them up."

"Yessir," I responded, obedient. "Oh!" I gasped as the cool gooey fabric touched my balls. It was a slightly shocking sensation.

"At first it just feels cold and wet, right?" asked the captain and I answered yes. "Now, close your eyes and imagine all that testosterone seeping into your testicles. Can you feel it? That's making you more of a man, bringing out that alpha male hidden inside you."

I had no idea how my briefs could have gotten even wetter since I last took them off. I mean, could my precum multiply on its own? Or had I shot a load and not realized it? It didn't make sense, but I'd given up trying to reason an explanation.

Something about the captain's authoritative voice encouraging me to revel in the vigor of masculine energy was hitting home. I reached down and grasped by balls, gently caressing and massaging the gloppy discharge all over them.

"And," continued the captain from outside the door, "soon no doubt you will be experiencing a throbbing erection, this is to be fully expected. Just ensure that you lubricate it liberally with that abundant man jelly. I guarantee you'll find the sensation sublime, something you've truly earned for yourself today, young man."

I couldn't believe that he was basically encouraging me to jerk off, right there, on the other side of the door, just a few feet away. I think on any other day I'd have been mortified and way too embarrassed to even admit that I'd ever masturbated.

But Buck and the men around him seemed so open and encouraging about feeling sexual in general. I guessed if the captain could sit by calmly while Jeff and Jay and his dad talked about having group sex with a girl, then my jerking off behind closed doors wasn't too shocking.

And standing here on the other side of the door while the captain urged me to touch myself and enjoy it had me rock hard in no time. There was a surprising amount of this slick goop in my undies, and I rubbed it up and down my stiff rod. I couldn't suppress a moan as it slid over the head with a silky smoothness.

"That's it." encouraged by captain's voice, "sounds like you found it alright. Now, leave those panties on and just work your rod through the fabric. Can you do that for me, son?" His voice deepened and entered my head, tickling my ears.

"Y-y-yessir." I stuttered, shuddering from the multiple sensations as I gripped and stroked my dick through the sticky briefs. I even got a little zing from him calling my briefs `panties.' It had annoyed me before but now sounded kind of erotic.

Other footsteps approached in the hallway. I next heard Mr. Akin's voice. "Now, get some of that sweet cream on your other hand and rub it real soft around your nip. Can you do that for me, sailor?"

"Uh, yessir," I half moaned as both the very suggestion and the act sent shock waves through me. The cool wet slick of the goop felt delicious on my nipples as I rubbed and twirled my fingers around them.

"Good. Now, give em a quick squeeze, but like you mean it, and then rub em real gentle some more. I want ya to tickle em, n flick em, and pull on em, alright?"

I did as he instructed and reacted with gasps and groans. It felt incredible.

Mr. Akins went on. "Now think about that Sheila nibblin' on your tits while you're hearing the boys down there lickin' and slurpin,' their tongues all tangled up in her pussy." The image he painted with his words came to vivid life in my mind's eye.

And then from the other side of the door came those very sounds, two men licking and slurping and moaning as though eating a pussy together. I couldn't believe these men were going to such effort just for me.

Years before my uncle had taught me how to shave and we were both in the bathroom in our underwear and as he watched me in the mirror, he guided me in his rich baritone, "that's it, sobrinito, long slow strokes, don't rush it, take it slow, go easy." It had been a special moment, one that I fondly remembered and returned to whenever I was feeling alone and blue.

That was a moment I mourned, believing that it could never happen again. And yet here I was, in a laundry room, stroking my rock-hard dick and diddling with my slippery nipples as these two grown men guided and instructed me in coming to climax. And we were all in our underwear. It was something beyond my wildest dreams.

They continued the slurping and moaning sounds and growling encouragement. They shared commentary of my progress. "He's got his nuts all slicked up." "His nips are hummin'." "Listen! I can hear him strokin' it." "He's gonna blow his load in no time."

Before I knew it, I exploded in a blinding climax with a series of shouts, blowing what felt like gobs of cum into my already wet briefs. After a series of shudders and grunts, I fell against the door.

"That's it, boy." The captain cooed from the other side of the door. "Great job! A good old-fashioned nut bust. How ya feeling? Pretty good right? Blew a big load, I know. Those nuts looked like they were about to burst. I could tell our boy really needed that."

There were no words to describe how I was feeling. The tension had been building for a long time. Since that morning and the episode with Chip in class, but even before. Ever since I'd stepped foot in this place, there had been a special energy building.

What I had been hiding and holding deep inside for years had been tapped into and charged up like a truck battery. Buck's open and joyous acceptance of his masculinity, the admiration of jock straps and physiques, his casual and frequent physical contact, his ass slapping and nipple tweaking, all were shaking loose the shell I'd grown around my deepest self.

"Now, tell ya what," Mr. Akins said, "how `boutcha pass those pretty little panties out the door and I'll trade ya for some drier ones you can wear home?"

"But, but, they're all...I mean..." I stuttered, not finding the words to say out loud my hesitation about handing off a pair of underwear I had just shot a huge load into.

"Now, now. What did we just say? No cause for embarrassment. Shooting a big load's somethin' to be proud of, especially for a young fellah like you just comin' into his manhood. You're among men here, son. Nothin' to be ashamed of, ever. As long as you're not hurtin' nobody, you are free to show you're a man any way you want, hear?"

Numbly I agreed and slipped off my briefs, holding them carefully so as not to spill any of the gobs of sperm lodged within. I cracked the door and handed them out and then felt another pair placed in my open hand. I didn't even stop to think where Mr. Akins would come across another pair of briefs to hand me.

I closed the door and looked at them. They looked like the pair Mr. Akins had been wearing. I pulled them on, and they felt warm. And a little moist. Surely, I thought, these aren't... But then, what's he going to...

"Ah, don't you worry about me, Sailor Boy, I got me a real nice pair right here I'm about to slip on." And I could hear him step into them and start to pull them up. "Ooooh!" he yelped, "Now don't that feel fine!"

"But Mr. Akins, that's not fair, you shouldn't have to...I mean, I could..."

"Now, now, son. You're a sweet boy, I can tell. But don't you worry a bit. Remember I got a boy of my own, not too much bigger than you, so don't think this is the first pair of gooey undies I've traded for a dry pair. Goes with the territory."

Buck had said that if I came to live here, I'd learn to accept and rejoice in being a man among other men. That was coming true faster than I could have imagined. Masturbation had always been a source of hiding and shame for me, and yet here I was, encouraged and applauded for jerking my dick to climax by grown men just a few feet away. I couldn't imagine where life might take me next. ----------

Chapter 36 Epilogue

I stumbled back across the yard to Buck's. I was transformed by the day's experiences, all leading up to the most earth-shattering climax I had ever experienced. And I hadn't been alone this time, hidden in a dark room or bathroom stall. I had been united with a chorus of men, cheering me on and holding me up on the path to proudly shoot the contents of my balls into a waiting universe. I was joyously celebrating my manhood among other men.

The whole world looked different to me as I crossed the lawn wearing a grown man's briefs. The crickets' song rang clearer, the evening breeze sweeter. The world entire had been born anew. Every cell seemed alert and alive. My senses, though thoroughly sated, felt sharpened and keen enough to scan every blade of grass and tree leaf in sight. I felt drunk and I felt more sober than I'd ever been.

I opened the back door into the kitchen. Buck stood at the sink, his back to me. His white briefs glowed softly in the gloom. "That you, Sailor Boy?" he asked without turning around. I stood speechless, taking in his strong figure before me. It struck me that everything that happened to me the past few days was thanks to him.

Wordlessly I stumbled towards him across the kitchen. Hearing me approach, he turned to face me. Seeming to read my mood, he opened his arms. I fell against him, pressing my face against the fur of his chest. The built-up emotions of the day finally found their full release as a sob escaped me and I cried, "I'm home!"

Wrapping his arms around me tight, he ran his fingers through my hair and kissed my forehead and whispered, "That's right, boy, you're home now."