Date: Sat, 10 Mar 2001 01:38:28 EST
From: Tjw6195@aol.com
Subject: Kelly's Problem - 1

This is my first solo effort at writing an erotic story.  My thanks to
Comicality for encouraging me to write it and post it to the library.  Now
on with the show.

Tim

Introduction:

This is a story involving high school students in the early 1980s, before
the onset of AIDS.  This is also a fantasy I've had involving people I knew
at the time.  Those people are real but are not, to my knowledge, gay or
bisexual.  Their names, therefore, have been changed to protect the
innocent or not so innocent as the case may be.

The Story:

Practice was over and the team was in the showers.  I sat on a bench near
the entrance to the shower room, ready to hand each of the guys a towel as
they emerged.

I suppose I should introduce myself.  My name is John Wilderson.  I'm short
at 5' 4", weigh about 120 lbs and am a junior at Medford High in Medford,
Wisconsin.  Due to a genetic bone disease, I get around mostly on crutches,
although I do use a wheelchair for more physical activities such as sports.
I also am different from most other boys my age in another respect.  You
see, I like boys.  That isn't to say that I don't appreciate a good-
looking girl, but they just don't excite me the way guys do.  I'm also
rather securely in the closet right now.

The reason I'm sitting in the locker room is that I am the student manager
for the varsity basketball team. I got the job before the season began,
supposedly as a way to get me out of the house occasionally, as my social
life was not what was normal for a teenager.  If nothing else, this job
taught me a great deal about self-control.  I mean, seeing good- looking
boys in the nude was enough to test any gay boy.  You got to see the types
of bodies that made for fantastic fantasies.  Nice bubble butts and enough
variety in the way of penises, both cut and uncut, thick and thin, to make
it hard not to drool.

It was mid-January and the team had already settled into its usual spot in
the conference standings: next to last.  This is not to say they were bad,
just unlucky.  For instance, our starting point guard, senior Fred Jackson,
had been having a good year before he had gone down for the season with a
broken ankle right after Christmas.  This necessitated the promotion of
sophomore Kelly Langer from the JV squad.  Kelly was a solid 5'10", 150
lbs. 16 year old with deep blue eyes, sandy blond hair and built like a
young god.

That particular night, Kelly was late getting to the showers. This was not
unusual for Kelly.  Almost every practice since he had joined the varsity
squad, he had been late for the showers.  It had become a subject of
speculation among the other players.  This time, I had seen him walk over
and talk to Coach at the end of practice, presumably about the next game
against Monroe.  I had talked to the JV manager, Tim, about this lateness
for the shower and he had said that Kelly seemed to be shy and that if I
wanted a fuller explanation I should ask him about it.

That night, I decided that I'd better find out what the problem was.  I had
told my parents not to bother picking me up after practice.  I would hitch
a ride with one of the players.  (I should point out that I did have a
driver's license, just not a car.)  I happened to know that Kelly had both
a license and a car.

"Hey, John, I see that he's late again," said Tony, a forward on the team.

"Yeh.  It's getting to be a habit.  Though this time, I saw him talking to
Coach after practice."

"Still.  You'd think he was avoiding us."

"I'll try and find out what's going on.  Tim said that he thought Kelly was
just shy."

"Christ!  Believe me, we've all got the same equipment.  It's not like
he'll have something we haven't seen before."

"No, I don't think so.  Of course, he always gets a towel before going into
the shower and wraps it around his waist.  And I don't stand there and
watch him get dressed.  I'm not a pervert."

"All right.  Good luck.  I'll see you tomorrow in Chem."

"Good night.  See ya later."

Several minutes later, in he walks.  He comes over to me and gets a towel;
goes over to his locker and undresses.  After I hear him get into the
shower, I walk over to the shower entrance and took a peak. He was in the
process of lathering up his body including six inches of prime teenage
cock.  God help me!  It was taking a lot of self-control to look and not
say anything about it! I wanted to reach out and touch it badly.  "Hey
Kelly, I got a question for you."

"Yes?  What is it?"

"Have you got the car tonight?"

"Uh, yes I do.  Why?"

"Well my folks called and asked if I could get a ride from one of the
players.  Something had come up and they wouldn't be able to pick me up for
another hour or so.  Since you're the only player still around, I thought
I'd ask."

His response came after a few seconds hesitation.  "Yeh, sure. I'll give
you a ride home."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

I went to my locker; got my coat and backpack.  "I'll wait for you by the
laundry room.  Just bring your stuff to me there and I'll get the laundry
started before we go."

"OK."

I walked over to the Laundry Room and tossed the rest of the laundry in.
All that remained was what Kelly had.  Fortunately, one of the night
janitors would empty the washer and put the stuff in the dryer (The janitor
had volunteered to do it).  I only had to wait a few minutes before Kelly
showed up.  He tossed his stuff to me, and I winged it into the washer and
turned it on.

"Ready to go?" Kelly asked.

"Sure.  Where are you parked?"  I replied, hefting my backpack onto my
shoulders and getting up on my crutches.

"In the student parking lot out back.  Let me go and bring it round."

"You don't need to, I can walk that far.  Believe me," I said grabbing his
shoulder to keep him from leaving.  "It's not that difficult.  Even on
crutches."

"You sure?  It's no trouble, really."

"I'm positive.  Now, where are you parked?"  He pointed to a lone car,
parked away from the others.  It looked like an old blue Chevy Nova.  As we
walked towards it, there was silence.  I tried to figure out a way to
tactfully broach the subject of his behavior.  However, there was a
problem, or rather a distraction of sorts.  Something I hadn't encountered
before in my time as the basketball manager.  I began to feel something,
what it was I didn't know.

We got to the car.  He unlocked first his door, than reached over to unlock
the passenger door.  I opened it, tossed my crutches and backpack in the
back seat and got in.  He started the car and we pulled out of the parking
lot.  "So John, where do you live?"  Kelly asked.

I replied that I lived over on Sunset Valley Road.  I asked him, "Kelly,
how's it going?  Are you glad you moved up to the varsity?"

"Yes, I am; although I would rather have gotten there on my own.  I feel
bad that I had to get there because Fred broke his ankle.  I seem to be
getting the hang of things.  Coach has made sure that I know the plays so
that if I have to run the team during the game, I know what I'm doing.  The
guys have been helpful, making sure I don't screw up too badly."

"Yeh. I notice that you haven't been doing do badly.  Heck, who knows?
Maybe, by the end of the season, you could be the starter."

"You think so?" Kelly asked, seemingly stunned that I would say so.  The
guy who had replaced Fred in the starting lineup was a good friend of mine.

"Yes, I do.  Tony is good coming off the bench, but he's not the guy to run
the team over the long hall.  And, deep down, he knows it.  He stays on the
team basically to stay in shape for the baseball season.  That and the fact
he does love basketball.  Just don't tell him what I said, okay.

The time you're spending with Coach after practice should help as well.  I
mean, that is what you are doing after practice, isn't it?"

"Ah, yes and no."

"Well, which is it?" I asked him quietly.  I didn't want to push too hard.
I liked Kelly; he was an okay guy.  But at the same time, I did want too
know if there was problem.  Maybe, I could help, or not.

"Listen, I ... ah ... don't really want to ... ah ... talk about
it, okay."

"Are you sure?  If there's a problem, maybe I could help.  I promise I
won't say anything to the rest of the guys, if that's what you're worried
about."

"I SAID NO!  I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!" he shouted.  Jesus, I thought,
maybe I've gone too far.

"OK.  OK.  Calm down.  If you don't want to talk about it, you don't want
to talk about it."

"Ah, shit," he muttered.  He pulled off to the shoulder of the road.
"Listen, you've got to promise me that you won't say anything to any of the
guys.  If they found out what I'm going to tell you, my life might as well
be over."

Over? What did he mean "over"?  What had I gotten myself into?  Was his
problem that bad?  If so, I wasn't sure that I should get involved. Let
alone that I could help him.  "You don't have to tell me if you don't want
to, Kelly.  Really, it's not important."

"Just listen, alright?  I've got to tell someone.  It's killing me not to."
Tears had welled up in his eyes.  He looked like he was going to cry.  "You
asked why I was late getting to the showers every day after practice.
Well, I'll tell you."

"Tim had said that he thought you were just shy about showering with the
guys.  If that's it, it is no big deal.  Some guys are just shy about that
sort of thing," I interrupted.

"Just let me finish, please?"

"OK."

"Tim was partially right.  I am shy about showering with the guys.  But
more because of what might happen in the shower than anything else."

"What do you mean?"  I asked.

The tears began to fall from his eyes.  Whatever it was must be terrible.
"Well, ... ah ... you see I get hard in the shower with other guys. I
can't help it."

"So what, it happens," I replied.  Then it hit me.  I was surprised that it
hadn't hit me as a possibility before.  "Kelly," I asked quietly, "Are you
gay?"  With that, the floodgates opened and he started crying.

"Yes!  I'm gay!" he sobbed.  "There!  Are you happy now?  You've got a fag
on the team!"

I leaned over and wrapped my arms around him to hold him. Whatever had hit
me walking out to the car was making an appearance again. "Kelly, Kelly.
Calm down.  Did you think you were the only gay boy in school?  We may not
be very numerous, but we do exist."

His crying stopped suddenly.  "What do you mean 'we'?"  His head tilted
slightly as he looked at me.  "John, are you gay too?"

I swallowed hard.  I hadn't meant to come out to anyone just yet.  "Ah,
yeh.  Listen, Kelly, I don't want this to get out either.  If this gets
out, Coach could can me quicker than you say 'Go, Medford!' But yes, I am
gay."

Then I got the shock of my young life.  Kelly looked into my eyes; saw
something, then leaned over and kissed me right on the lips!  What the
HELL!  I definitely wasn't expecting this!  I liked Kelly, sure.  I wanted
to be his friend, yes.  But anything more, I wasn't sure.  I needed to
think about this.  "Kelly!  Slow down, please.  I am gay, and don't take
this wrong, but ... ah ... I need to think here. I like you, sure.  I
definitely want you as a friend.  But I don't know if this is going
anywhere."

He looked like a sad puppy, which had been caught doing something wrong.
He hung his head.  "I'm sorry, John.  It won't happen again.  I'll take you
home now."

He pulled back onto the road and drove me the rest of the way home.  As I
got up on my crutches, he handed me my backpack.  "Thanks for the ride.
I'll see you tomorrow at practice."

"Yeh, see you tomorrow."

Before he could reach over and close the door, I stopped him and said,
"Kelly, if you want to talk some more, see me after practice.  OK?"

"Sure.  Tomorrow."  He drove off and I walked into the house.


Well what do you think? Should I continue this or does it stop here?