The Embarrassment of Riches Chapter Two: The Box
The people, places and events of this story exist only in my (and now your) imagination; therefore, any resembelences to real people, real places or real events would be really cool.
It was a bright if cool Friday afternoon in September – the end of the first week of the semester. It was the beginning of Johnnie and Calvin's second year at the King James VI (of Scotland) University and they had enjoyed spending "fresher's week" oogling the new talent on "campus" – two Americanisms that had found their way into U.K. parlance.
Friday afternoon in a stuffy seminar room: Calvin and Johnnie had only themselves to blame, taking an optional module in Shorthand Speed Development for extra credit. And it convened on a Friday afternoon, for crying out loud? Never the less, it was fraught with problems: boredom, mindless tedium and (worst of all) the potential for actually learning something. It was enough to send a shiver down Johnnie's spine.
Johnnie might have been able to concentrate better if he weren't being distracted by Calvin. That wasn't new. Calvin was a source of constant distraction, which Johnnie repayed in kind. The biggest difference between them was that Johnnie had to work so much harder to succeed academically. Many people would assume Johnnie was stupid or gullible, this was not so – he was just easily bored, difficultly engaged and hard to motivate. Also horney, which is also distracting.
Johnnie and Cal's friendship had been enduring for many years, having met at the Earl of Lennox Boys School; a pricey private school where the two rich boys had explored their sexuality together and pushed each other's limits of exposure and sexual decency. They were constantly trying to outdo one another, which was hard because each had become (almost) unflappable. It was therefore a testament to Calvin's dedication that he had been able to erode Johnnie's confidence.
"Because I'm not insane!" Johnnie whispered hostilely.
"No, you're not insane. But you made the bet..."
Johnnie cut Calvin off, "Only because I didn't think I'd lose."
"But you did lose," said Calvin, as if it were perfectly reasonable. "Besides, what occasion that's started with the phrase `I bet...' has ever ended well?"
"I'm not doing it," Johnnie said miserably.
"Johnnie, dearest," Calvin replied in a sultry whisper dripping with sarcasm, "Of course you will..." Calvin slipped his hand under their shared desk and rested it on Johnnie's knee. Sliding it up his friend's thigh, he felt Johnnie stiffen. And then Johnnie's cock stiffened and Calvin added, "...Because I'll be very grateful."
Johnnie pushed Calvin's hand away from his hardening cock and directed his eyes towards the front of the room. Their tutor, Mr Carlisle, was discussing something that Johnnie was finding increasingly hard to follow. Johnnie wondered if he should worry that Mr Carlisle would notice what he was about to do. However, the young man was in his stride and paying so much attention to what he was saying that he completely failed to notice those not paying any attention to what he was saying.
Johnnie liked Mr Carlisle and always had. When he and Calvin had been at the well-to-do Earl of Lennox Boys School, Mr Carlisle had been their Media Studies teacher. Johnnie and Calvin had always fancied the ass off him – and more besides, but that was another story. Johnnie reflected on that story – the incident in the corridor that had fuelled many a wanking session – and wondered what had gone through Mr Carlisle's head when he saw the boys again for the first time last year.
Johnnie knew what he liked the most about Mr Carlisle: the man looked quite a lot like him. A similar shade of brown hair, light brown eyes, a slim and athletic build. Johnnie was not sure why certain similarities should be so appealing but the man was very very appealing. Cal had once suggested that everyone finds physical similarity in a partner appealing – hence why one looks in the mirror while jerking off.
The moral of Johnnie's daydream was: Mr Carlisle was still smoking hot.
That was not a helpful thought given what was coming.
Mr Carlisle was an enthusiastic fellow who had a habit of getting ahead of himself and going off on a tangent. Once he was in his stride Mr Carlisle's students were powerless to stop the tirade of information that was not strictly speaking – and by strictly' one means at all' – relevant to their present studies.
The second hour of their present tutorial was dedicated to exercises involving the shorthand alphabet; answering as many questions as could be handled on a Friday afternoon without resorting to self-harm. Anyone could ask for help if they wanted to, but no-one did.
King James VI (of Scotland) University was located near the city of Stirling and, though not as prestigious as the Universities attached to the big cities, it had a long-standing reputation. It was an amalgamation of old and new – old stone buildings erected a few hundred years ago and new structures that looked as much like a greenhouse as they did an educational facility.
"Are you gonna get on with it?" asked Calvin, nudging Johnnie with his elbow.
Calvin was a couple of inches taller than Johnnie, who was a few inches short of six feet tall. His hair was short and tidy, its light brown colour muted further by how short it had been cut. In a few weeks it would be long enough to coif again.
"I'm psyching myself up," Johnnie replied.
In what was laughably called a tutorial at the arse-end of the working week, a dozen students were hunched, slumped or comatosed over the desk in front of them. One lad at the front of the room was calculating the volume of alcohol necessary to erase two hours of tutorial plus the volume needed get pissed, minus the volume that will require stomach pumping.
It was reassuring for Johnnie that his humiliation might just go unnoticed. Though if Johnnie really thought he'd get caught he would have told Calvin where to stick it. He only agreed to the bet because he was confident he wouldn't lose but if he did, Mr Carlisle's class was the most acceptable venue for his forfeit. The tutorial was always like this.
The temperature was unseasonably warm and humid (for an September afternoon) and Johnnie was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, nothing underneath, with contrasting black jeans. Soon, the Jeans would not be part of his outfit.
Calvin's hand was back on Johnnie's leg.
The room was tiered – with a few steps every couple of rows so the back of the room looked down on the front. Johnnie was happy to have the higher ground.
After checking the coast clear, Johnnie pushed Calvin's hand away (again) and as unobtrusively as possible unbuckled his belt. He kicked off his trainers and, knowing how meticulous Calvin was to the terms and conditions of a given bet or deal or wager or dare, pulled his socks off using his toes.
"If you lose, you have to strip naked from the waist down in Mr Carlisle's Friday tutorial," Calvin had said four days ago. And Johnnie had lost.
His belt unbuckled and jeans undone, Johnnie lifted his arse off his chair and unceremoniously pushed his jeans and underwear to the floor. No point prolonging the agony, the quicker it was done and the fewer the moves, the less likely he was to be caught. Bunched around his ankles, he slipped his feet out and was, to Calvin's satisfaction, naked from the waist down.
"I should get my head examined," Said Johnnie, completely unable to concentrate.
"You did get you head examined. The great MRI summer of 2009... Happy days," Calvin said with mock reminiscence.
Calvin was happy to maintain their natural banter in spite of the fact Johnnie was half naked with his cock and balls on show. But then, Calvin wasn't half-naked in a class of twenty guys with his cock and balls on show.
Johnnie could not stop looking around – checking no-one had spotted him. He and Calvin were the only students seated in the back row and the others had little reason to look back. He was resigned to pay his debt and besides, it was a bit of a thrill. A potentially public thrill, but a thrill none the less. Calvin once again returned his hand to Johnnie's leg, sliding it from his knee and then up his thigh. Johnnie tensed and felt blood rush to his penis.
He knew this would happen but Johnnie never-the-less tried to stem his arousal. Calvin's fingers brushed the underside of Johnnie's scrotum which caused the seven and a half inch organ to throb, the foreskin to retract, the head to secrete its transparent juices. Johnnie hadn't even realised he'd closed his eyes until all thoughts were erased from his mind by the booming voice from the front of the room.
"Ok everyone. You can go," Called Mr Carlisle "I think that's enough for one day."
Johnnie had felt his gut clench for a moment, terrified he had been caught reacting reflexively to sexual stimulation. The thought of Mr Carlisle coming to investigate what had caused a look of pleasure to cross Johnnie's face terrified him... almost as much as it excited him. It wouldn't be the first time the teacher had seen Johnnie's penis, nor even the second time.
But Mr Carlisle had other things on his mind than the dirty tricks of eighteen year old boys... his loss. Their tutor packed up his briefcase and departed, exchanging a few passing words with some of the lads near the front of the room. Johnnie tensed at the thought that the boys in the row in front of him and Calvin might turn to catch him half-naked but they didn't seem to pay any attention.
Once Mr Carlisle had left, Calvin slid closer to Johnnie and kissed him on the cheek. Their on/ off relationship was well known – known for being more off than on - and Johnnie considered himself privileged to have never (or very seldom at least) have faced significant hostility for his sexuality.
From the front of the room a couple of guys saw them kiss but nothing was said. Johnnie had, before he `came out' feared the threat of physical violence but apparently boys kissing other boys just didn't cause the stir it used to. There was the occasional "tut" of disapproval but British people tut if you skip the cheque in a supermarket so one couldn't be sure what the tut was really for.
Calvin turned to face Johnnie, putting his leg over and sitting on Johnnie's knee. Calvin could feel the cock throb beneath him. A few people had noticed now, but neither Calvin nor Johnnie was paying any attention to them now.
Calvin's hands slid into Johnnie's shirt, caressing his shoulders. Calvin's fingers traced lines around Johnnie's left nipple before they started to unbutton his shirt.
Johnnie breathed loudly.
Too loudly?
Johnnie only briefly wondered about it – he was too distracted by the tongue exploring his mouth. When Calvin's hands reached the bottom button, they lingered to stroke the tidy bush of pubic hair then, after another half minute or so Calvin's hands slipped the shirt off Johnnie's shoulders. Johnnie's eyes flew open – the breeze as the shirt fell had tingled the tiny hairs at the small of his back. Calvin was relentless and was now kissing Johnnie's neck.
"Cal, am I naked?" Johnnie whispered, though the last two boys were already at the bottom of the room and departing.
"Hmm?" replied Calvin as if he had no idea what his friend had meant. "Yea, I think so."
Calvin smiled, swung off Johnnie's lap and stood. Calvin's cock, a magnificent organ, was at full mast but contained within a pair of cord trousers. The outline was obvious to Johnnie, but perhaps only because he knew to look. Calvin bent over his friend and kissed him again before picking up the shirt and striding with long legs towards the front of the room.
"Very funny." Johnnie said, not shouting but whispering very loudly to avoid attracting the attention of students passing by the open door. "Come back and gimmie that."
Calvin stopped and turned but did not walk back to him. "You think me taking this," holding up the shirt, "...is funny?" he asked.
Johnnie felt with his feet for the rest of his clothes – his feet hit something so he looked underneath. He trainers and nothing more remained.
Johnnie's heart beat quickened.
"Laters," Said Calvin, already at the door.
"No! Don't! Fuck!" Now Johnnie was shouting but only to an empty room.
His clothes, obviously taken by the two seated in front would be halfway across site by now.
Johnnie and Calvin had had sex in a few dangerous places before. They had also toyed and teased each other publically. More recently, they had exposed each other in their dorms. Stolen each other's towels when swimming, fucked about at school (and got caught) and worse than that. Johnnie tried not to think about the staff room incident...
"Focus, Johnnie," he admonished himself, realising his cock had given an excited throb.
But like this?
This was new.
Neither Johnnie nor Calvin had done this before.
Johnnie wished his cock would go down and wished the trill didn't make him want to blow his load all over the floor without even touching his cock. Johnnie looked out the ground floor window to see if anyone was looking in – the room was located in John Gierson building which, thankfully, was sufficiently isolated from the student shop and union to be less frequented as a socialising spot.
Johnnie dashed in a crouched position to the aisle beside his desk and made his way to the front of the room. He suspected he looked ridiculous – cock stiff and pointing straight out as he made his way, bandy-legged towards the door. He hoped Calvin was just messing with him, that his friend would be right outside.
Calvin was not outside the room!
But there was still a steady stream of people and Johnnie had no desire to expose himself to them. He stepped back from the doorway and took a deep breath. His cock was finally softening, which provided little relief since Johnnie was still naked and being caught flaccid was (probably) only mildly less embarrassing than being caught with a raging hard-on.
Johnnie's eye caught sight of the store room at the back and he hoped Mr Carlisle had not locked it. Johnnie did not bother to cover his ass as he went back to the rear of the room. If someone saw him, two small hands would not cover his arse – not even one as petite as his.
Johnnie was a tall lad; eighteen years old with short caramel brown hair and spindly sparsely-haired legs. And a cute, tight gluteus maximus.
A noise behind him gave Johnnie a start just as he was reaching the door to the store room. He turned to see someone in the doorway – they were standing in profile rather than looking into the room but Johnnie knew he had only seconds.
He turned the handle and the door, mercifully, opened he stepped in just in time.
Whoever was there must have seen something – a shift in the light or a blur in the periphery of his vision because he called out.
"Hello? Anyone there?" It sounded to Johnnie like Daniel Helm.
Daniel was a friend of Johnnie's and Calvin's but had never, to Johnnie's knowledge, even set foot in the John Gierson building. He's never had any reason to since he and Tom, a fellow undergraduate, both studied Psychology in the George Younger building.
"Hello?" Daniel called again, stretching the last vowel.
Johnnie decided to take the chance that Daniel might help. He opened the door again and peered out, keeping the door as closed as possible. He saw his friend and knew it was all part of Calvin's game.
"Daniel?" Johnnie said.
"Johnnie. Hey," he replied, confused. "What are you doing in there? And where's Cal?" He looked around, as if he could have missed him in an empty room. "He wanted me to meet him here... admittedly, I'm five minutes late."
Johnnie suddenly suspected that Daniel was supposed to have bared witness to Calvin's victorious departure but, never one to be beaten, had changed his plans when Daniel was not already here when the tutorial had ended. This was better, Cal would have reasoned. Now Johnnie, if he was to get any help, had to expose himself and tell someone what had happened. So to speak.
"Come here a minute," Johnnie called.
Daniel obliged, reaching the top of the room in a few quick, bouncy strides. "What're you doing?" he asked as it finally dawned that Johnnie was hiding behind the door.
"Hiding," Johnnie replied. It was a simple reply, but he felt it succinctly conveyed the pertinent information.
"Why?" Daniel asked.
Johnnie's heart beat faster again. "I'm... I'm a little bit naked in here," he said.
Daniel's eyebrow's rose then fell, he smiled then laughed. "Fuck off," he replied.
"No, Daniel. Really, I am," Johnnie heard a mild panic quiver his voice.
Daniel was not convinced.
"I'm not convinced," said Daniel.
"Look. Just get me some clothes, will you?" Johnnie said exasperatedly.
"Stop arsing around, Johnnie." Daniel said and Johnnie suddenly realised that his friend genuinely did not believe him.
Daniel had never seen him naked, though it was still early in the first semester so Johnnie and Calvin just hadn't had the time yet. Daniel had moved into the halls of residence only last week, because his commute had "sucked" so had not had a chance to be privy to their dorm-based escapades.
Johnnie opened the door and Daniel nearly fell over.
Johnnie Barring stood up straight, arms at his side and head held high.
He wasn't ashamed of his body – a six-pack that wanted to be an eight-pack and toned belly made him attractive and physically fit though he never felt he tried very hard to maintain it. Thus he looked like an underwear model without the pressure of trying too hard or having to boycotting chocolate.
Daniel was staring and Johnnie was aware that the longer he bared all, the more chance of another student passing by in the corridor or peeking in through the window. He closed the door over again and put his head back around its edge.
"Please help me out," Johnnie said.
Daniel swallowed hard and could not help squeeze his cock through his shorts. Johnnie's eyes caught the movement and the sight of Daniel, himself an attractive man, adjusting himself caused Johnnie's dick to stir again.
Daniel was wearing a short sleeved t-shirt and running shorts. Daniel's thighs and legs had dark hairs that clung to his Mediterranean skin.
"Daniel! Help me," Johnnie repeated his plea.
"I... I don't have any spare clothes," He replied.
"Gimmie your underwear," Johnnie retorted.
"I'm not wearing any." Daniel replied without thinking.
"Really?" asked Johnnie, tilting his head and gazing at Daniel's crotch. The outline of a cock against the shorts was even more pleasing with that knowledge.
"Well... I never wear any when I go running..." Daniel shifted uncomfortably.
Johnnie opened the door again and his hard cock took Daniel by surprise. Johnnie grabbed Daniel by the collar and pulled him into the room.
Johnnie's dick poked into Daniel's crotch as he stepped close and kissed him. Daniel did not pull away but the kiss felt uneasy. Johnnie stayed close; feeling his cock throb with blood next to Daniel's equally filled muscle. As Johnnie's lips nipped Daniel's ear, he finally pulled away from the naked boy's advances.
"I thought you were with Calvin," Daniel said. It was as much a statement as a question.
"Well... not exactly. Sometimes I am," Johnnie replied.
It was as truthful an assertion as he was able to make – Johnnie and Calvin had been friends for many many years: they had (literally) slept together many many times and had had sex many many more times than that, they had never really been a `couple'.
Johnnie elaborated with: "Cal is kinda my on-again, off-again not-boyfriend."
"Right," Daniel said uncertainly. "Which is pretty much the same as being his boyfriend?"
Johnnie smiled noncommittally but snorted at the idea. But Johnnie's mockery seemed to incense Daniel, whose face had turned angry.
"Look, maybe you," Daniel raised his big brown eyes, "...and Calvin? Maybe you guys are happy to fool around or fuck around but I'd rather not, thanks."
Daniel no longer looked angry, but disappointed and sincerely turned off, which turned Johnnie off too - nothing deflated a cock like indignation.
Johnnie was about to defend himself: he and Calvin might not be monogamous but they weren't easy whoring rent boys either- his friend seemed to have gotten him all wrong. He was about to say so but Daniel was already out the room.
Daniel sauntered the final steps out of the room, turning to grin at the last minute. Had Daniel been taking the piss? Perhaps making an excuse not to help? Either way, Daniel had left without Johnnie getting something to wear.
Johnnie weighed his options: there was no way he could streak his way across the campus and all the way back to the halls of residence. Stealth was an impossibility due to the number of open spaces between the John Gierson building and the halls of residence that would be his final destination. Even finding somewhere where there might be clothes he could steal – he didn't exactly have any way of buying any from someone - or perhaps borrow from was beyond Johnnie's ability to think at the moment.
Johnnie decided he could not leave the room naked, no matter where (or if) along the way he picked up clothing.
He started to look around the room and began to form a plan. Since he could not avoid being seen, he had no option but to be seen – an obvious conclusion. However, he'd be arrested if he stepped out with his cock and balls swinging and he had no interest in them appearing on the internet within 15 seconds of the first camera-phone pic being taken.
If starkers was not a viable option, Johnnie would have to MacGyver something from his present environment – preferably something that would not look like it had been stapled together in a store room.
Nope.
Johnnie's only option was little better than something that looked like it had been stapled together in a store room.
He found a small box, a few inches wider than his hips, and on it was the words "handle with care."
Given the fact that Johnnie was about to put his fragile `equipment' inside, it felt like an apt use for the box. Johnnie emptied its contents: polystyrene nuggets and a piece of equipment he could not even identify. Using a pair of scissors he cut two holes that were just big enough for his legs. Stepping into the box and feeling justifiably ridiculous, Johnnie refilled the box with the polystyrene nuggets that had protected the unidentified device during transport. The nuggets were now protecting his equipment and providing some coverage for it too. Ready as he'd ever be, Johnnie took a deep breath and re-entered the main room.
There were a few consolations: there were slightly fewer students around on a Friday afternoon – most were already ramping up their blood-alcohol levels. It was also September and although the heat had been a welcome surprise, and was remaining even as the evening drew closer, there was some coverage to be offered by the early setting of the sun. This was not a consolation for any romantic reason but because sunset brought darkness.
If he had any difficulties getting back to his room, darkness would be a valuable asset. Johnnie had reached the door, closed by Daniel as he left. For a brief moment Johnnie's heart fluttered at the thought of it being locked and that he'd be stuck in the room all weekend. No such luck.
The handle turned easily and Johnnie stepped out, wearing only a box, into the corridor.
Gasping followed by an abundance of stunned silence were the first things to hit Johnnie.
Then some laughter.
Johnnie could have done without the moment being immortalised by megapixel camera phones by the next lot of guys and dolls who spotted him and by the time he reached the exit to the building, there was outright cheering and catcalls. A few people came up to peer in, hoping for a cock shot but spying only pubes or the root of his dick if the nuggets shifted in their favour.
Another boy joked: "You're gonna need a bigger box." This comment resulted in an uproar of laughter as the lad who made the joke was mocked by his pals. They pointed out that he had implied the box was not big enough – and what would he know about how big its contents were? Johnnie walked on, ignoring the puerile and unimaginative comments.
He never let the jokes sting; there was jealousy in most of the comments. Johnnie, and Cal for that matter, were known for being rich and privileged, and the idea that a rich boy could be torn down and humiliated was probably appealing to the masses. More likely, the jeers were simply astonishment at his exposure.
Johnnie was unfazed for the most part: he was tall, handsome and ripped. He was a walking wet dream with a body most guys would kill for, thus Johnnie had no compunction in showing it off. He would have rather not showed it off so publically but here he was, stepping into the sun.
The weakening sun was still warm and dazzled Johnnie as he stepped outside. Although the commotion inside had been mildly unpleasant, it had subsided quickly. Most people did not follow a naked guy around. Johnnie would have, but most people knew well enough to mind their own. Johnnie guessed the lack of more a bold response to his predicament was probably because those who had seen him feared similar treatment. His present predicament has some resemblance to the kind of hazing pranks that Johnnie had read about (and by read about' one means seen in gay pron'), but it was hardly something anyone else should be on guard for.
This is Scotland, Johnnie reasoned. He was dubious that half the hazing pranks he'd "read about" happening in the USA actually happened but they defiantly did not happen in any university he'd ever heard of in Britain. Johnnie only knew the term `hazing' from his relationship with his computer, the one he'd cheated on with a box of tissues.
A cool breeze touched his ankles and tingled his nipples. As he headed for the flight of steps that led up to the main courtyard, Johnnie tried to plan the shortest route home. More laughing and cheering and photos followed but Johnnie tried not to imagine how many dozens of people were seeing like this. Johnnie took the stairs carefully; the lunging motion necessary for ascent stretched the holes in the box that his thighs occupied. He could not afford for the box to split or for the holes to become wide enough for the polystyrene nuggets to start empting out.
At the top of the stairs he saw Calvin, Daniel and Tom Dawes – the only one missing from their usual group was Victor. Johnnie and Calvin were the youngest in the group but Tom, who was barely a year older, still looked the youngest.
Tom was five foot seven, average though slim physique, delicate features and an inability to grow facial hair; he was cute and boy-ish with hair that was a ginger shade of blonde. On first meeting Tom a year ago, Johnnie had thought he was only sixteen but he had just turned eighteen. Tom still looked only sixteen and had innocent eyes that were very sweet. He was a stark contrast to Calvin and Daniel, both tall enough to tower over Tom and distinctly more rugged looking.
If Johnnie was worried about his earlier encounter with Daniel, he needn't have been. Daniel smiled as Johnnie approached – wearing his box.
"We've been waiting for you." Said Calvin.
"Really? I don't know what could have kept me." Johnnie replied with nonchalance. "You got something for me to wear?"
"What's wrong with what you're wearing?" Tom asked innocently, hits of his Glasgow accent (albeit a well-spoken one) bleeding through.
Tom's emerald eyes made him quite beautiful and, shamefully, Johnnie felt blood rush to his penis again. Although his cock thickened, it did not become erect. But then, Calvin reached into the box; he gripped Johnnie's cock and gently squeezed, it only took a second – his hand had already gone and instead took out a polystyrene nugget.
"So! You're using these nuggets to hide you're nuggets then?" Calvin said.
Johnnie ignored him and mentally chastised his now semi-hard dick for its response. Half-hard, barely clothed and outdoors was exciting but now was not the time to be aroused.
"Do you fancy coming for a drink with us?" Daniel asked.
"I should get changed first." Johnnie said.
"We can go somewhere with a lax dress code if you like." Tom said with bright eyes and an impish grin.
Johnnie couldn't help but smile at the way Tom tossed out flippant comments – always without malice; even in circumstances like this Johnnie found Tom endearing. Damn Tom and his cuteness. Tom stepped closer and looked into the box, then he cocked his head and looked up at Johnnie.
"Are you really naked in that?" he asked with some concern, dropping his voice by several decibels.
"He is." Said Calvin. "I'll prove it."
A second later Calvin had taken Tom's hand and plunged it into the box. Johnnie leaped with a start as Tom's hand copped a feel at his balls – polystyrene flew everywhere; caught in the nice breeze that had first stiffened his nipples a few minutes ago. Tom didn't seem to know what to do. He'd had a puppy-dog admiration (lust?) for Johnnie since they had met at University last year and it seemed to have redoubled since the academic year started just a few weeks ago.
Tom took his hand out the box. "Sorry," he said, looking embarrassed.
"It's ok," Johnnie insisted, not-remotely annoyed about the groping but pretty annoyed about the box now being half empty. He didn't blame Tom though, it was Calvin's fault. Johnnie was about to point this out when he heard yelling.
"HEY!"
The group looked around and caught sight of an angry-looking and rarely-seen security officer.
"Shit! When I say run, run... Run!" Whoever called this was lost in the frantic dash that ensued.
They all headed towards their halls of residence; usually more than ten minutes walk away as it was located on the edge of the university grounds. Their mad dash to escape the furious figure of authority would reduce that time.
Although Johnnie was somewhat hampered since he was wearing a box, which was not conducive to sprinting, he made good time. To Calvin's credit he stayed by his friend, even as Tom and Daniel raced ahead. Calvin took Johnnie's hand and ran with him. Soon, the chase was ended and the pair had reached the sports fields that sat adjacent to the Halls; the security man long lost behind them.
Calvin pulled Johnnie to the side of the training annexe. Johnnie's cheeks were flushed and his breathing heavy, the box was torn and askew, Johnnie's chest and armpits shone with sweat.
Calvin kissed him and reached into the box. `Cheeky bastard,' Johnnie thought. By way of reciprocity, Johnnie reached out and fumbled with Calvin's zipper. Johnnie felt the box slip down a bit and his cock head felt cool air. The frenzied kissing was broken only when they ran out of breath. Johnnie pulled roughly on Calvin's belt and undid the button. With the cords now open, Johnnie put a hand on the waistband and yanked them down then knelt before his on-again, off-again not-boyfriend.
Life was an awfully big adventure with these two. They enjoyed their games, dares, teases, humiliations, tricks and games (again). This was just another game, another adventure: Johnnie almost naked and Cal was getting his cock sucked behind the school gym (figuratively speaking).
Gripping a buttock in each hand Johnnie touched the tip of Calvin's cock with his tongue. The organ responded appreciatively as Johnnie extended his tongue, resting the magnificent organ on it. Johnnie moved closer to Calvin's groin, drawing the dick deeper into his mouth. A warmth enveloped Calvin's dick and Johnnie expertly tightened his lips around the shaft while swirling his tongue around it.
The excitement of being almost naked outside, of having been chased and of not being old enough or mature enough to know better made giving a blow job outside exhilarating. Almost as exhilarating as receiving a blow job outside by an almost naked man. There was no-one around to watch, even here on the sports field. The area around them, for the time being, was deserted.
Calvin thrust once; he was gentle so Johnnie would not gag. Johnnie extracted the cock from his mouth and kissed it and licked it; flicking his tongue rapidly across the eye. He could feel Calvin tensing, edging closer to an early climax so Johnnie stopped being so provocative and instead blew a cool breath on the cock head. Calvin still shivered with pleasure but no enough to cum.
Calvin looked down and Johnnie and lifted his chin with his right hand; his thumb brushing Johnnie's lips. Johnnie could read Calvin's mind – perhaps he knew his friend too well – and stood up. Calvin tore at the box, pulling it apart where it had already weakened around Johnnie's thighs. The box gave way and fell to the ground as two equally useless scraps.
Johnnie stood naked at the side of the University sports building. There was no-one milling around to catch him, or Calvin, so exhibited but the ecstatic rush was still exhilarating. He took Calvin's dick in his hand and pulled, they came together again and locked lips. Their bodies were close together, just far separate enough for each to masturbate the other. It brought back memories, behind the Earl of Lennox school at the start of their sixth year: pants around their ankles and nearly getting caught by the fifth year lads.
In the moments leading up to their mutual climax, Johnnie longed to feel Calvin inside him. Indeed, the only thing stopping such intimacy was the lack of protection. The whole world could watch for all he cared, but Johnnie (and Cal) was always careful.
A gentle breeze came between them and cooled their clammy skin. Calvin's cords and underwear were still bunched at his ankles and the wind kissed at Calvin's naked legs and buttocks and at Johnnie's naked everything. They came together - pressing their bodies together as it happened in a wonderful and messy expression of satisfaction. Ejaculate smeared on both their stomachs and leaked onto the clothes bundled at Calvin's feet. Johnnie and Calvin remained embraced while their trainers were fertilised with the last vestiges of their passion.
Calvin was the first to break the embrace; pulling up his soiled underwear and cords.
"Couldn't borrow the briefs, could I?" asked Johnnie.
"Nonsense." Replied Calvin "It's not far now to get home and your arse looks great in the sunset."
The sun was even lower in the sky now; setting fire to the horizon and burning the last vestiges of the day in an inferno of orange and red. And the purple prose prize goes to...
"Whatever." Johnnie said, feigning nonchalance.
They began walking, Johnnie could feel his skin begin to cool but he suppressed the shiver that threatened him. There was no-one around as they crossed the football field, nor as they traversed the running tracks. As they approached the hall of residence that overlooked the sports fields, Johnnie cupped his balls and cock which now mercifully flaccid.
Three Halls stood on University grounds, with others located off-campus. Theirs was the nearest of the three and would soon be surrounded by a halo of sunset. Just now, Johnnie was glad he didn't have to walk any further in the buff than he already had.
Calvin held the door open for Johnnie - sparing him the indignity of a single-handed cock cupping. A few people were milling around near the entrance vestibule but none said anything or enquired about why Johnnie was naked. Tom and Daniel had no doubt already regaled the group with the tale. Johnnie was a little disappointed that no-one was keen to talk to him about it but was rather pleased how receptive they seemed to nudity in the building. Boys will be boys – guys always enjoy nudity; or at least that had been Johnnie's observation from six years of all-boys high school and a first year of University under his belt.
Guys like nudity! That might prove entertaining when Johnnie plotted Cal's comeuppance. Johnnie followed Calvin upstairs to the first floor where their rooms were located. On the landing, they met Tom who was even more surprised to see Johnnie's modesty covered only by his hands than he was seeing Johnnie wearing a box.
"You made it back ok then?" Tom asked, his voice perceptibly higher than usual.
Both Calvin and Johnnie had already concluded that Tom fancied them both.
"Yea, we just got held up. Well... something was getting up at any rate." Calvin replied.
Johnnie dropped his hands and Tom blushed. "I think I'm gonna take a shower." He said.
Although Tom tried not to look, Johnnie was glad he did because he liked the attention. Johnnie found himself fantasising about young Tom (young Tom being a year older than Johnnie himself) and decided he might just fantasise about Tom in the shower. In short order however, his fantasies turned to Calvin – his best friend intruding on his thoughts more and more lately and Johnnie wondered what that meant. There just wasn't enough time in the day for all the fantasises in Johnnie's brain.
He was going to need a bigger box of tissues.
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If you are enjoying this story, I have also written:
School Exhitionism - see the High School section: July 14 2007.
The Symposium - see the Authoritarian or Athletics section: Sept 15 2015.