Sophomore Year 43
As afternoon turns to evening, Zack enlivens the fitting session with a surprise musical number and an old song surprises Hank by how perfectly it expresses his state of mind. Meanwhile, Buck reenforces an important lesson for a growing boy.
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Chapter 43
With Zack gone, Buck returned his attention to lacing up my shorts. He hummed a tune and smiled, seemingly totally absorbed in the task. In short order he sat back on his heels and pronounced the job done.
"Now look at that, will ya?" sounding satisfied, he directed my attention to the mirror. The view made me catch my breath. The laces crisscrossed their way up the exposed jock pouch, tight enough that my meat bulged through them almost obscenely. It looked as though the laces were straining to hold back the swollen mass.
I was transfixed by the sight. I thought I looked like masculinity itself. "Beautiful." Buck muttered half to himself, "just friggin' beautiful." I looked around for Zack, both eager to get his assessment and maybe to engage in some more honey catching. I also wanted to avoid contributing to any potential jealousy of his dad's attention.
But Zack was nowhere to be seen. I thought he'd gone to get his bag from the car but then realized I hadn't heard the kitchen door. Apparently, the mischievous boy, taking advantage of our distracted state, had snuck into my room to snoop around a bit.
I suspect he didn't find much of interest among my things. Without a doubt the most intriguing items in the room would be those left by his older brother Jack, and Zack was probably familiar with those already.
As luck would have it, he came upon Ethan's thong that I had left out as a reminder to return it that weekend. I should mention that Ethan was a smaller guy, probably not that much bigger than Zack at the time, so his thong was just about the right size for a curious boy.
Suddenly Zack burst into the hallway sporting nothing but the thong. He started dancing wildly around us while singing "Look what I found in my brother's room!"
Embarrassed I sputtered a confused explanation of how the thong had got mixed in with my things. "It's not mine." I protested. "It's Ethan's, a roommate I had last year...mixed up in the laundry...gonna get it back to him this weekend..."
Buck looked back and forth between us, slowly processing this information. He seemed mildly amused at Zack's antics, numbed long ago to his son's attempts to shock for attention's sake and only partly absorbing my scattered explanation.
Then Zack spun around and shook his butt at us, now bare and exposed by the thong's design. Buck was stunned. "Hold on, what the...? Where's the...?" he stammered.
Keep in mind that thongs were not very common at the time, and it's likely that Buck had never seen one before outside of some magazine if at all. So, the last thing he'd expected was for his boy's ass to be almost completely visible in this otherwise unremarkable swimsuit.
It took him a minute to grasp that the suit was intentionally designed that way. Then another realization hit. "Wait a minute," he said, "Did you take that from Hank's room?"
"It was on his dresser!" Zack argued in his defense.
"Come here!" Buck ordered, and Zack meekly complied. Buck spun him around by the hips and bent him over to inspect where the back string of the thong ran up his son's crack. "Boy, you better hope you're clean back here or this ass is gonna get a whipping it will not soon forget!"
Zack hollered in protest, "It's clean! It's clean as can be! Take a look and see for yourself!" He reached back and spread his cheeks wide.
I was shocked that Zack would expose his butthole so brazenly in front of us, but Buck just looked over at me and laughed, shaking his head. "See what you put up with when you have boys?"
"OK, then," Buck relented as he remained kneeling before his son's ass, "Let's have a quick crack check." Keeping one hand on his boy's hip, he leaned in close and with the other pulled the thong strap to the side and took a loud, theatrical sniff.
"Hmmm..." he reacted dramatically, "Is that flowers I smell? How can that be? How can a growing boy's pucker hole smell like flowers?"
Zack was elated to explain. "It's a new shampoo mom got. It's bright green and smells just like a garden. Really nice, huh?"
This was not too long after Clairol's Herbal Essence shampoo exploded on the U.S. market. Of course, its novel garden-like aroma was artificially produced with chemicals, but it nevertheless suited perfectly the growing appeal of `natural' products at the time.
Buck leaned in and took a longer, more serious lungful, and then a series of shorter snuffles from different points. "Funny," he looked at me, "I always call this teeny pucker my sweet little rose bud, but now it actually smells like one!"
Zack gave me a mischievous wink as he asked, "So, does it earn a kiss, Dad?"
Buck again looked at me in mock exasperation and sighed, "The lengths you go to instill good habits in your boys!" Turning back to Zack's ass, he called out, "I deem this little rosebud as kissably clean!" and to my amazement, Buck planted a loud playful smooch right smack on his son's butthole.
Zack squealed in delight, I think both at having won a little power struggle with his dad and what I imagined must be the incredible sensation of getting kissed on such a sensitive spot.
"OK," Buck regained his serious demeanor, "So turn around here. Let's get a really good look at this thing." Delighted at the opportunity to show off, Zack spun around and started up his dance again, singing, "How ya like new brother's suit, my new brother's suit..."
No doubt both his dad and I found Zack to be an adorable show-off, but I was still embarrassed about having the thong in my room. "No," I tried to clarify again, "that's not mine, it got mixed up in the laundry last year, it was a roommate's. I gotta get it back to him. I've never even tried it on."
Buck's face revealed several emotions. On the one hand, he couldn't take his eyes of his son's teasing performance. On the other, he was trying to process my explanation. He seemed caught between conflicting impulses.
"Well," he finally seemed to reach a decision, and getting to his feet pronounced, "No matter whose it is, it's not yours, Zack, and you know better than to take somebody else's things without permission."
"But, Dad," Zack paused his dance to protest, "I really like it!"
"Yeah, I can tell you like it," Buck laughed, noting the outline of his son's growing erection in the suit. I guessed that the daring grab for attention and the novel sensation of wearing something that bared his ass was very exciting for the boy.
Even though I'd never really liked thongs, I had to admit it looked pretty good on Zack. And I bet the silky fabric probably felt really nice on his balls. No wonder he'd gotten a hardon.
After contemplating his son's bulge for a moment longer, Buck commanded, "OK, buster, so give it back." Zack froze in disbelief. "Now!" his dad clarified.
Zack suddenly grew very shy as it dawned on him that following his father's order would completely expose his erection and allow us to freely view it at close range. Even though he seemed a born show off, this may have been a degree of exhibitionism Zack was not quite ready for.
Zack looked like he was running through several possible strategies for avoiding his dad's order, but assessing the severity of Buck's expression, reluctantly stripped off the thong and handed it to Buck.
Buck held the suit up at eye level to inspect the design. "Well, I'll be..." he muttered as he turned it this way and that. He then stepped in front of the mirror and held it to his waist, as though trying to picture how it might look on him.
"Hmmm..." he considered a few moments, turning this way and that in the mirror. Meanwhile, I I glanced over at Zack's exposed erection and couldn't help but notice that his dick was so hard it actually throbbed a bit.
"Ya ever try this on, Sailor?" Buck caught me off guard and I vigorously shook my head `no.' "Here, turn around." He approached and held the suit up to my rear. "Now, THAT would be sumpin', I'll bet. Really show off them tanks. Wanna give it a try?"
I again shook my head `no,' mortified at the thought. "Aww, c'mon," Buck insisted, "take a look in the mirror. Imagine what a pretty little show that'd be." Seeing that I wasn't going to budge, Buck laughed and gave my ass a sharp, loud slap then handed me the thong.
"Look that suit over real good," Buck instructed me, "and make sure he didn't leave any scorch marks." I turned the rear strap over in my fingers, but didn't detect any soiling or discoloration. I found that kind of surprising given that it ran up the middle of a boy's butt crack.
"Smell OK?" Buck asked.
Awkwardly, I brought it to my nose and took at whiff, expecting the worst. Surprised, I smiled and shook my head, "Just like a garden."
"That's my boy." Buck chuckled and turned back to his son who stood shyly watching us, both his hands modestly covering his privates. "Hey!" Buck instantly shifted into military mode. "Hands up!"
Zack slowly complied. "And spread those feet!" Buck actually sounded angry. "What the hell you hidin' there, son? Since when you cover your manhood around your dad and brother? We're all men here. Or you thinkin' we got a girl in this crowd? That what's got you all modest?"
Buck's rant shook me since I knew I was much shyer than Zack and would be a quaking mess in the same situation. "Go to the mirror!" Buck ordered and Zack obeyed. "Assume the position!" Buck barked and once again, Zack took a wide stance with his hands locked behind his head.
Buck stood behind him, breathing heavily. Like a machine gun, he started a series of rapid-fire questions that Zack answered as if my rote.
"What's that between your legs, boy?"
"It's my dick, sir."
"And who else has one?"
"Every guy on earth, sir."
"Is yours the smallest?"
"No, sir."
"Is yours the biggest?"
"No, sir."
"Does it work?"
"Yes, sir."
"Is it fun to play with?"
"Yes, sir."
"Any reason to be ashamed of it?"
"No, sir."
"OK, so, tell me again."
As he continued staring at his naked reflection in the mirror, Zack recited in a memorized singsong with accompanying gestures, "These are my nuts that make the cream. This is my dick that shoots it out to bring me joy and give new life."
I was amazed and touched by this display. Buck was firmly instilling in his son a total acceptance of and pride in his manhood, something that for me and I'm sure many boys like me had been a constant source of insecurity.
Buck looked with pride at his naked son and said, "Good boy." Then he reached over and took the thong from me and ran it through his fingers. "Mmmm, nice and silky. Musta felt really nice on your balls, huh?" And as if to illustrate his point, Buck rubbed the silky pouch on Zack's nuts and said, "No wonder it got ya all nice `n hard."
Zack sort of giggled.
"Now, what is it you like most about it?" Buck asked, "Having your sweet peaches out?" with a gentle pinch to his son's butt cheek.
"Yeah," he kind of laughed bashfully.
"Well..." Buck thought for a moment, "we could take the scissors to an old pair of your panties an' cut out the back. Wouldja like that?"
"Oh, yessir!" Zack's eyes grew wide in excitement. I noticed his dick seemed to throb even more.
Buck noticed it too and playfully reached around and gently popped it with his finger. "Jeez, son, you're hard as a rock. Better do something about that or at least cover it up before ya hurt somebody with it!"
Zack laughed and gave his dad an expectant look that I thought clearly expressed which option he preferred. I think Buck reached the same conclusion. His tone changed and he seemed to ask the room at large, "Say, who's startin' to get hungry around here?"
I took that as my cue. Buck and I had agreed that morning that I would make chili for dinner, and he'd picked up the ingredients that afternoon. I was tempted to hang around to see what happened next but excused myself and headed down to the kitchen to get started.
By the time I got downstairs, I'd realized it was only fair to let dad and son have some alone time to catch up. Cutting up a pair of Zack's old briefs so his butt would show seemed like a slightly odd but oddly fun kind of thing for a father and son to do together.
Before getting started in the kitchen I put on an old scratchy record of my mom's, vintage Mexican trio music, acoustic guitar and soft harmonies on classic `boleros,' ballads from long ago. The nostalgic vibe suited my mood perfectly. Buck had agreed that making dinner earned me at least one of his beers, which I popped open and sipped while I chopped and sautéed.
The music washed over me while I busied myself getting out the utensils I'd need and setting them in order. Reaching out from decades past, the melodies felt familiar, triggering memories of home and safety from my childhood. And now suddenly I felt at home again, after all that time. Feelings from the past bloomed anew inside me.
I hummed along and joined a lyric or chorus here and there as I cooked and reflected on the past week. It was hard to believe I'd only arrived at this house four days earlier! When I'd pulled up in front, I had no idea that a life-changing experience awaited me.
What were the chances that a bashful, naïve kid with body image issues would end up in the perfect spot to learn to find comfort and joy in his own masculinity? Forcibly paraded around strangers in a revealing singlet and later in just my underwear, my initial terror was replaced by the surprising discovery of a penchant for showing off and the intoxicating power that exposing my own masculinity could have on others.
Furthermore, while previously horrified to admit that I'd ever masturbated, the men around me freely gloried in the pleasures of it and were slowly but surely nudging me in the same direction. I could not deny that over the past week I'd experienced the most explosive climaxes of my life.
Even more amazing was that I'd tasted my own cum and far from yucky, I'd found it a profound act of self-acceptance and self-love. I was learning that my man cream wasn't something to dispose of down a toilet or in a trash can, but rather something to admire, savor, and cherish.
That I had today tasted another man's precum, or as Buck called it, his `cock honey,' was perhaps the most astounding of all. The fact that we had partaken of each other's dew drops in solemn communion established an iron bond between us that razed all barriers.
I felt in my heart that one day, hopefully soon, I would lose all fear of baring myself fully to Buck who was quickly becoming a mentor and a hero.
As I leisurely stirred the pot and reflected on these things, a song played that caught my attention. "Sabor a mí," written back in the 60s or so, I'd always thought of as one of those impossibly obtuse old love songs that never dares to plainly state what they mean.
Suddenly this song sounded totally new to me. It sang of a relationship between two people so intense that both would always sense a trace, the essence of the other. I've since learned that it's risky to translate lyrics literally. Truly good ones spring from a delicate balance of language, culture, moment and rhythm that a literal translation shatters to render something clumsy and awkward.
But as I watched the simmering pot and sipped on the cold beer, I heard the singer croon as if just to me, "A thousand years or more may pass, and you'll still carry a taste of me in your mouth." A slow warmth ignited in my belly as I realized I could still taste Buck's precum in my mouth. I hoped it would last forever.
I started belting out the chorus as the guys came down the stairs.