Date: Sat, 27 Jan 2007 19:25:20 -0600 From: mt nuda <mtnuda@hotmail.com> Subject: The Exam chapter 83 Chapter Eighty-three Saturday August 10 continued Doug and Moose went for the same locker, the one furthest from the cameras, the one at the end. Doug was kicking out of his shoes and tossing his shirt into the locker like he was late for practice. He looked over at Moose standing there, "Hey quit shovin" he said over his shoulder at Moose who was busy observing the guys next to him for clues how this was going to shake out. Of course Moose had not been shoving in the least. If he had, the entire row would be on the floor like some many toppled dominoes. "So... Dou-dumbfuck, y'gonna ask that Sally Jenkins out tonight?" Moose said over his shoulder, seeing Doug make a point of not looking at the camera. He caught the hand signal, one they had used sucessfully at most meets and in a few more "unofficial" occasions. The way Doug was holding his fingers meant: play along! So Moose played along, getting into the act after a few shaky moments. All the while his hands was hesitating at the bottom of his t-shirt, not yet ready to pull it off. "Y'better believe it!" Doug stood there, unbuckling his jeans fast "I hear she puts out big time!" "I thought you... already... fucked her?" Moose yanked the shirt free of his shorts, feeling the lights burning into his back. Several of the guys were looking at them, wondering what stunt the two were planning. Especially one of the older guys who caught the hand signal and stopped his own strip-tease, blinking in surprise. "Naw not yet" Doug dropped the jeans, his bare ass warming under the lights. He heard a few wooshes of air from the guys down the row. That seemed to break the ice a bit, and get them to initiate the slow deliberate process of shedding their own clothes, pulling off shirts here or and shoes there "yeah n'all I get from her is like a goddamn shitty handjob!" not knowing if swear words would be bleeped out or not. Yeah right, he thought. They'll show guys having sex but dirty words? Oh no, never. "Thanks guys for lettin us use yer facilties y'know" that one guy broke in, as far down as his baggy boxers, but no further "I know some of you high school guys must think it's kinda weird y'know... sharing your locker room" obviously playing to the handheld camcorder behind him. "So remind me again, just what are you dudes doin here?" Moose was between Doug and this guy, and in spite of himself getting just a little interested in the show this dude was giving. He was in his forties, salt-and-peppper hair military cut, and maybe one-eighty pounds of lean muscle, but if he came up to Moose's chest that would be pushing it. Moose remembered him from one of the side tables in the dining room, eating with a chubby light-reddish haired guy who could have been Baby Huey's long-lost brother. That dude was somewhere back on the folding chairs, not foolhardy enough to be waving his goods in front of the cameras like this dude here. Moose watched this guy strip down without watching him, wishing it was Soulman up here instead getting into this scene. But he knew Big Hank's job now was in back keeping a lid on his buddy that big black dude. And that dude had "undercover" written all over him. From the way Big Hank deflected some of Moose's questions, Moose's newly hightened pararoia-meter registered either he or that black guy could possibly be wired and possibly in touch with the vice squard at this very moment! Not that such a thing would actually be going down tonight; his cousin just had to be paying off the men-in-blue big time to keep this circus on the road. Moose even shot a look or two over his shoulder, trying to see Big Hank in the obscured haze behind the lights but it was all but impossible. Either way Moose knew he had to be up here, not Ern not Big Hank not even Billy, but the Moose! Part of it was his out-of-control sense of loyalty to the team, but if he had to admit it, it was pure, unbridled recklessness now. That and a sense of one last crazy go-for-broke weekend before... before what? Before the training camp? There was that, but there was also the feeling this was the last weekend of summer vacation, the last weekend to do something stupid and crazy and yeah, the hormones were surging as well. That huge meal was blasting through his system now, like twenty protein drinks going right to his crotch. So even if his cousin put him in a head-lock and marched him off-stage, Moose knew he would be back in a flash. And yet that nagging feeling would not leave him, the feeling this was all going to be ending sooner not later. The unavoidable feeling that he needed to squeeze a lifetime of horny boneheaded craziness into these last moments, the clock ticking louder and faster, and he needed the pin to win in these last few seconds. So Moose wanted to pack in as much shit as he could before the ref blew the whistle, before Mort decided one Muscowski on stage was already too many, before these black-suited Misters ran out of film and ducked out the back as the swat teams came busting in the front! Shit, he was already rehearsing different alibis for the various scenarios, saying he was blackmailed - which he was! - saying they were holding his friends hostage! - which in a way theywere - saying they slipped him something in those iced teas - lame but worth a try - saying he was just young and dumb - ace in the hole! - and he prayed Big Hank might back him up whatever scenario played out. But it was Ern his thoughts returned to again and again, especially after he let slip something about his dad bringing up that job promotion again, to fuckin Oregon of all places! So when Ern stayed back and gave him a shy silent nod, Moose muttered "y'know I gotta do this right?" and up he jumped, or rather up his dick jumped. Moose was jerked out his thoughts when the dude next to him finished his rap for the cameras about how there was this supposed sports conference and all these trainers were in town, and that's why there were all these adults in what was supposed to be a high school locker room, blah blah blah. Moose half-tuned it out, but snapped back loud and clear when this dude dropped his less-than-attractive boxers. Hanging from what had to be the bushiest pubes he'd ever seen was a real eyeful, a nice eight inches of prime cut dick. And with those dark-red low-hangers to match. Moose was not one to let an opportunity slip past, "Shit dude!" Moose tugged his pants and shorts past his knees, his brawny muscular ass towards two of three cameras "hope you got a license to be carrying that weapon." "What?" the dude reached into the locker and pulled out a small white towel barely big enough to reach around his waist. Moose looked at it and smiled, man these bastards think of everything. "That's some kinda shotgun yer packin between yer legs" Moose made a point of pulling on his own, while nodding at the guy's front, barely covered with the skimpy towel "y'goin out for target practice?" "Don't mind M- I mean - " Doug yelled from behind Moose. "Name's... Mort" Moose held out his hand, winking at Doug. Let his cousin sort that one out later, he chuckled to himself "don't mind me I'm just pullin yer leg is all" but made a point of staring at the guy's front. The guy hesitated whether to stay here and deal with this kid who was getting comfortable in front of the cameras, or head for the showers and begin the next part, or what? "Damnit...Mort" Brian was maybe three guys away him, and more than happy to get away from the round older guy on his tail. He came over to Moose and stood there in his jockeys, stalling for time before he had to do his full monty "why you always stirring up shit?" "Aw cut the shit Br... Bruno" Moose looked at him and smirked "why y'always on my case? What are ya, somebody's dad or somethin?" knowing that was exactly where to stick the knife. Brian took a step back. Moose returned to the matter at hand, "Bruno here always riding my ass about some shit or somethin..." leaning in close to "his" victim "he's always super paranoid about me startin shit or somethin" turning back to Brian "look me and mister 'jones' here" giving them both a steely look "we're just fuckin around okay? Y'don't gotta be gettin all panicky on us okay?" back to that guy "Bruno here's alway thinkin somethin weird is goin on behind his ass, ain't that right?" Brian stood there looking around. Then that Billy guy from South - of all people - shouted over, "No fuckin shit! You always making up some bull or other - " "Lately..." Moose announced to the entire damn room "Bruno been tryin to convince us everyone's after his ass! Yeah, no shit! He's totally convinced everybody's tryin t'goose him or make a pass at him or shit!" "Y'mean like this?" and Doug grabbed Brian in the butt. The place started howling, not the least Brian. "Yeah like that! Like anybody with two fuckin brain cells would be after that scrawny little ass of his!" Moose bent over to kick free from the pile of clothes wrapped around his ankles, making a point of mooning the camera with his far from scrawny butt. Moose was ratcheting up the fun-meter - man, they were not bargaining for me at all! I'm definitely gonna give'm a run for their money! "Moo-Mort you are so fulla shit!" Brian went back to his locker, almost expecting to find a stink bomb hidden in it. This was gettin more and more like the regular lockerroom bullshit every second! And damn if he was gonna be the butt of their jokes, either way! He needed a new victim. Damn where the fuck was that Baby Huey when he needed him. He looked up and down the row, seeing more than one guy already down to their mini-towels, not to be the first one in that fake shower room. Then he spotted Billy Hammes! "Hey Billy" Brian made a point of using his real name. Y'wanna play asshole I'll play asshole! "hey Billy-Bob, where are the real towels? You being the towel boy n'all, how come we gotta use these shitty little asswipes!" holding up his own, which was not much bigger than a hand towel "y'been usin all the real ones for yer cumrags?" That brought a range of responses, the majority being, shuttup Brian! But now Brian had his victim singled out, "Y'so eager to perv on all these adult-size grown-up dicks y'gotta hide our towels? Man, Billy Bob that's a real sicko thing to do!" "Y'mean like when y'got caught" Doug jumped to Billy's defense "beatin yer meat in the girl's locker room, Bruno?" "At least it was the girl's!" Brian shot back over the shocked comments "not the boy's like you!" A tense hush settled over the room. Brian's comment had crossed the line, but even he did not know how explosively accurate he was. He saw Moose grab Doug's arm, but Doug was not going to admit anything! "Well at least I can still get it up!" from Doug, looking cool, but seething inside. And there it was; the gauntlet had been thrown down. Now Brian was the one caught in the trap. "Figures y'can get it up lookin at guys!" Brian was not about to let this go now, cameras or not. This was serious and personal now! "Guys, girls, dogs, sheep. Your sister!" Doug squared his jaw "as long as they breathin - and not inflatable! - unlike you!" And that brought the place down. Even the guys back in the chairs were laughing out loud. One of the cameramen lost his focus he was laughing so hard. Mister Johnson/Jone's voice came from nowhere "five minutes!" which was some kind of cue. "That's what everybody says about ya, Do-Doughboy" Brian was not about to let this degenerate worse. He and Doug had several run-ins in the past, to Brian's detriment. "Sorry about the towels Br-Bruno" Hammes broke the tension "but the laundry room's all fucked up, maybe tomorrow okay?" "Live with it Bruno" Moose was naked now, his towel draped carelessly in front of his crotch "if this dude here with the professional-grade dick can deal with it, you with the trial-size dick can deal with it too!" "Watch yer fuckin mouth M- " Brian was still genuinely ticked off and ready for anything. Not that getting into a fight with Moose here and now, cameras or no cameras was desirable. But he had to save face regardless! "Y'heard the man" one of the adults - another plant? - cut him off "we got five minutes before the hot water runs out" which made no sense at all, but a few of them figured out his meaning. Before the camera's run out, or worse, before they throw something else at us! "Thanks for your help" Moose snapped at his adult companion. "Y'didn't need it" he made a point of returning the look to Moose's crotch "you guys were doin just fine" lowering his voice "without a script." "And you got one?" Moose whispered back "who the fuck are you?" "Someone who came a long way" then in a whisper "and I do mean cum!" winking at Moose "to meet you-" "Shit!" Moose said too loud, drawing more attention than he wanted "not the goddamn films, the website!?" "No" he whispered back, one eyebrow cocked "you know about that?" "Just found out tonight" Moose nodded at Doug "he found it." "What?" Doug joined the hushed conversation. "Dude here knows about..." Moose mouthed: website. Doug panicked, then the guy said, "Naw ain't like that" then repeated in an accent the two recognized "no, it is not like that..." "Who the fuck ARE you?" Doug's jaw dropped. "Someone who came a long way" he repeated "to meet you" to Moose "and help you" to both of them "providing..." "P-p-providing what?" Doug sputtered out. "Don't tell me, I can just imagine" Moose looked at the guy's tool "I gotta take that up my-" "Gentlemen" the guy smiled "we are here to-" "We?" from Doug "who's we? Who are you?" "This is who we are" he answered, louder than seemed necessary, then to the group "five minutes!" "Til what?" Doug looked at the guy, or rather most of him above his chest line. "Until they turn off the water" he winked with a smile, and started heading for the doorway to the shower area. "Wait!" Moose grabbed him "y'can't go in there like that?" "Like what?" the guy did not pull away from the contact. "Wearing that" Moose nodded at the bandage wrapped around his left bicep down to his elbow "you'll get it wet." "That is why you are the captain" the guy put his hand on Moose's heavy shoulder "you always think of others. But no, it is waterproof, not to worry" and nodded his head towards the shower area, expecting them to follow "providing..." They noticed one by one, and then in clumps of twos or threes, some of the guys had started walking over towards the mock doorway and through it into the shower area. Up close they could see - and smell! - they were in a standard white tiled shower room, with a line of six shower heads along one wall, and a line of cameras and lights where the opposite wall would have been. Some of the guys could not help but stare into the lenses, even with the cameramen waving them away. But the harsh squeal of the first shower coming to life turned those heads back to the business at hand. Big brave Brian was one of the last to leave the locker area and was almost to the doorway when he heard the stage door open behind him. Coming through the door was a tall brown-hair dude he noticed in the audience before. And behind him were that Klu guy and what! There was his bud Matt! Where did he come from? "Matt! Dude!" Brian was next to him in a flash trying to hi-five him. But Matt looked around the locker area, trying to hold it together. He almost didn't notice Brian used his real name "what the fuck you doin here?" "What is all this?" he whispered, watching the third guy and Klu already at some lockers, racing each other out of their clothes "Brian, what's goin down here?" "Don't you know? Didn't they - " "Shit" one eye on Brian, one eye on a camera pointing in their direction "I just finished my... I mean my practice is not for another hour so... the coaches let me back here to clean up" whispering to Brian "dinner with parents - they left - Milt recognized some guys - only way to get him home - I stayed - suspicious otherwise" then loud enough for the cameras again "so I have time to clean up... Bri." "He ain't here" Brian picked up his towel from the floor, trying to hold it in front of himself "you got the Bruno dog t'deal with" whispering "call me Bruno okay?" got it... Mike?" "Ah... yeah... okay... Bruno" Matt looked around, seeing Klu and that guy down to their jockeys. So before he changed his mind and went back to the front to call a cab, or worse, run into that guy again from the dining room who kept looking at him and Milt, he started throwing his jacket and t-shirt into a locker already cluttered with someone's clothes. As soon as the first two or three turned on the spigots, there was a quiet murmur running through the group. Damn, they're fuckin real! This is too fuckin weird! but not loud enough for the cameras, or the one microphone high over their heads to hear. Once the first adult got under the water, the sound of the second and then the third shower starting filled the noisy echoing room. The guy back at the mixing board was spinning dials like crazy. Mister Smith was too busy helping him to notice Klu and his adult friend join the group in the showers as well. But before Brian and Matt swelled the numbers to the breaking point, Mister Smith heard yelling breaking out behind him from the audience. The one word he heard over the din was "Billy!" and before he quiet the group, a very naked under-age kid had slipped around the back of the stage and almost hidden himself among the guys already jostling for the remaining shower heads. By the time Mister Smith was back at the guys half out of their chairs, telling Willis and Big Hank to quiet down, Billy had already ingratiated himself with several of the guys, earning a spot on the team. Big Hank tried to break away and somehow yank his butt out of there, but Willis on his right, and some nondescript guy in the row in front of him had convinced him it was too late; the damage was done and Billy was on record now, his fate sealed. As the party-crashers added to the crush for spots in the shower room, it dawned on them there were more guys than available spots. At which point it was every man for himself! It soon became obvious their only solution was to double up, or even triple up! Whatver thoughts some of the guys had of a quick rinse and pay off were circling the drain with the soap streams. This was gonna take much much longer than any of them expected. Moose shook his head, yeah they thought of fuckin everything! That was the scene on which the cameras were training their lenses when some silent signal from the mixing board or from Mister Smith triggered part two of the evening's entertainment. There were close to dozen naked guys jockeying for positions under the six showers heads, their soapy shiny bodies under the bright lights, their naked muscular backsides turned to the cameras as much as possible. Only one or two, like Moose and one of the guys from the restaurant, were making a point of turning full frontal to the cameras now and again. But with the water flying everywhere it was all the three cameramen could do to stay out of harm's way, especially the young dude with the hand-held camcorder which almost got a soaking on more than one occasion. Of course, he happened to have tissues in his shirt pocket, and every few minutes had to stop to mop the lens. It was about the fourth time he did it that the guy with the headset at the mixing board called Mister Johnson/Jones over. They had a quick conference, with the Mister making rapid notes on his clipboard. From how it looked to the guys back in the folding chairs Mister J was getting writer's cramp trying to get it down fast enough. Big Hank and his mysterious associate were trying to get up to the mixing board to interrupt the activities but Mister Smith had returned to the group as soon as the other Mister replaced him at the mixing board. There was a steady heated exchange but Big Hank began to figure out they could not make a bigger protest without alarming the entire group. And perhaps alerting everyone that something was up. So they sat their asses back down even though they wanted to get closer to the stage and yank Billy's ass out of there, but then those hands in their laps were keeping the two back in those hard metal chairs. And being in the back row ended up a bad choice. At first, when they were assigned the third row by the Misters they thought, or rather Willis thought it safest not to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves. But after the latest outburst, they saw it didn't matter where they sat, several sets of eyes were watching them, their situation increasingly precarious. Big Hank wished they had agreed to have his cousin Harry here, not this hothead back-up, Willis guy, who seemed ready to blow their cover any second. All Big Hank wanted to do was get Billy out of there, but this big dude to his right was just making things worse. Big Hank wanted to get at Billy, Willis wanted to get at the mixing board, and neither of them got to do anything more than sit in the back-row in their underwear, a couple of idiots in the crosshairs. Big Hank glanced at his hand back in the crotch of the dude to his left, a guy he remembered vaguely from the gym. When they got the order from the Misters to lose the trousers, he was one of the guys who almost bolted right then and there. But after he made sure everyone registered his staged show of protest he pulled down his dress slacks and carefully slid them over his shoes, carefully folding them into a neat bundle and carefully placing them under his seat. He made a comment to Big Hank about being on the end of the row, so he didn't have to "grab some dude in the nuts" as he put it. When Big Hank's hand came down on his briefs he made a point of stuffing his own hand between Hank's and his precious jewels but Mister J caught the motion and reminded him to observe the rules or pay up. He gave Big Hank a nasty look "no funny stuff I mean it!" and removed his hand with a grand dramatic flourish. And when Willis' hand found his own crotch, Big Hank looked at him and could do little but shrug. Willis shrugged back, but when some high school kid's hand landed on his white briefs he almost swung at him. The kid whispered "hey like this is my idea" at Willis but he gave the poor kid a lethal glare. "Keep that hand away from my dick if y'wanna live" Willis whispered back, before that observant Mister J hushed him. Willis looked down the row and a big moustached guy already had his hand in the kid's lap and it looked like he had a death grip on his crotch. Serve the little bastard right, Willis thought. Big Hank looked down his row as well, past Willis, past that Stan guy from South who looked like he was about burst a blood vessel he was so red. Next to him was a guy he remembered seeing in the restaurant, maybe late thirties, more than a bit of a beer-belly, blond-reddish moustache. To his right was a guy in a baseball cap, someone Kroos and Joel knew, looking like a ex-jock, round and muscular. He came in with this big blond dude who decided he wanted a piece of the action on stage, but oddly enough was not up there in the group jostling in the showers. Where did he disappear to? Big Hank wondered. He wanted to lean down the row to ask "baseball cap", but that Mister J kept returning at worst times, making sure everyone was "enjoying themselves" or some shit. Next to "baseball cap" was somebody he remembered seeing at the Y, dark haired a bit nondescript with a perfect haircut, also giving the impression he was as embarrassed as the guy on his left. End of the row was the big chubby kid, "Baby Huey" they were calling him? Man, Big Hank thought to himself, high school can be hell for some dudes. But he noticed that "Huey" kid was free from having a strange hand on his crotch, and still shitting a brick, sitting there in his plaid boxers, looking like he would rather be having root canal work. So that was the back row, eight guys total; the front row was a bit more crowded. Big Hank started counting heads in the front row, trying to keep his mind off Billy up there on stage, naked and squirming under the showers like this was all good clean fun. First guy from the left was his buddy from yesterday afternoon, the Hispanic wrestler, Manuel, no Mannie that's it. The kid with the eternal hard-on it seemed. Next to him was his bud, a round hispanic kid he remembered from the Y, his name forgotten. The two of them slipped into the first available seats fast, with Mannie's friend securing the seat next to his bud like he was on defense. At first Big Hank thought they were "good buds" and that was why they wanted to stay close, overhearing bits of their whispered exchanges, Mannie not too crazy about having some stranger's hand on his goods. So he settled his round friend next to him and shrugged when his bud's hand landed in his lap. His round bud was one of the lucky/unlucky ones who had drawn a red ball earlier, but turned it back in, looking almost relieved at first, then disappointed after a few moments. The two of them had a fast and furious exchange in spanish when Mister J announced the "rules of the game" later, Big Hank not understanding the words but getting a clear idea of the content. Only when Mannie's friend dropped trou, showing bare ass instead of tidy whities did Big Hank have his suspicion confirmed. And damn, it it didn't look like the kid was already boned! Too bad, his "affiliations" were declared for all to see, he thought. The lucky - or not! - person who got to have his hand on the kid's naked hardon was the dude who was so intent on keeping himself and Willis in their seats, almost earning a black eye for his efforts, an older guy, dark hair and glasses, who looked for all the world like some insurance salesman who took a wrong turn on his way to the men's room and ended up here, blinking and bewildered. He was short and thick, looking like he never saw the inside of a gym in his entire career of foisting unwanted policies on unsuspecting homeowners. But when he saw who he was sitting besides, or rather what he had to grab, he looked like he was going to have a stroke. And when the kid next to this insurance salesman, name of Sam or Sal?, probably on the football team, saw he had to put his hand on this older guy's crotch he was almost the second dude out the door. Big Hank peered over Mannie's friend's shoulder to get a closer look once the lights were darkened, and sure enough, Sam's hand was trying to levitate off that saleman's short and stubby, but still obvious hardon, almost poking out of the fly of his print boxers. But after a while the kid, Sam?, realized he had his own problems. In his crotch, heavy and insistant, was the hand of a guy Big Hank saw either at the Y or shoving prime rib in his face before, and wasn't he another dude who thought going commando would be the right thing to do? Big Hank almost felt sorry for kid next to mister commando, a friend of the guys on the football team, probably one of them, named Mark or another Mort? He was what most people would call "a strapping lad" a good looking, good natured kid, with the upper body strength of someone who would be equally welcome on either offense or defense. Big Hank wondered what it would have been like, finding himself next to the kid. Probably has a good size piece in his shorts, he thought, and not one to freak out about someone like Big Hank getting in a grab or two. But he pretty much hidden behind Willis' huge bulk for Big Hank to get a better reading on him. Like he did not have enough to deal with already, he reminded himself, a small laugh escaping from him. Willis gave him a weird look; Big Hank shrugged back. "Glad you enjoyin this" he whispered, "relax" Hank whispered back. Next to the Mark? kid were two guys Big Hank could place at the Y, one of them he noticed was definitely commando, with a hairy butt hanging out the back of his folding chair. Big Hank could not tell what he waving out front but not concerned right now. Next to them was another high school football kid, named Carl?, who kept trying to whisper over the two Y dudes to his friend Mark? but Mister J kept returning to him with a stern finger to his lips. The Carl kid was having none of it. But the Y dude next to him did not seem to mind the kid's hand in his crotch, and now and again would relay messages down to Carl's friend in exchange for something occurring between them. Next to Carl, was this mysterious smaller hispanic guy, someone who was talking with Moose at one point but who he was, Big Hank had no idea. And next to him was a hulk of a blond dude, arms like cannons, looking like someone who would be happier in his pick-up truck, country-western music blaring, hurrying to get to the stock-car races out past E*****t Lake, not cooling his butt in this guys-only event. He had been eating with the smaller hispanic guy before, and had some "words" with Moose, but again Big Hank was without a clue why he or his friend had decided to join the group. But man, was this dude wasting his time and ours or what? If anybody should up on that stage and part of this horse-and-pony show, it was this steroid stud! Maybe he had issues with this whole scene, or maybe he didn't have the goods to back up the delivery. Again Big Hank chuckled and again he got a nasty look from Willis. "Tell ya later" he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, but Willis made a point of giving his right testicle a sharp flick of his strong index finger. Big Hank winced, but felt his dick give a throb. Shit, he thought, just what I need. To let this dude know I'm into pain! However, the dude who was looking for all the world like he had just won the lottery was the guy in the prized seat next to that big blond muscle dude. He was spending almost as much time looking down where his left hand had landed than at what was occurring up on the stage. Or at least that's how it looked from Big Hank's angle. A few times the big Hispanic guy caught Big Hank looking over at him, but he just gave a guilty smile and went back to enjoying - no wallowing in - his lucky spot. And if that big mexican was beaming like he was in dick heaven, the guy next to him was somewhere between drooling and hyperventilating. Whatever the big mexican had in his shorts must have been more than that guy was expecting. He was another red-head, but not as fiery red-headed as Moose's Ern who was boxed in at the end. Between the over-excited red-head and Ern was another of the guys Big Hank recognized from the restaurant, a stocky black-haired guy. If he wasn't a cop, Big Hank thought, he should be. Big Hank even nudged Willis next to him and nodded towards the guy but Willis muttered "him? not a chance." Big Hank wanted Willis to explain that, but Mister J gave him one of his patented looks. When Mister J's back was turned Big Hank whispered "why not?" and Willis snarled back "he look on duty?" Between one show going on on stage and the other down the row to his left, and the capper having a good looking kid like Ern grabbing his jewels, he looking like he was not going to arrest anybody anytime soon. The guy with the black hair and the steel jaw sat there, watching the jostling and even a bit of joking going on in the dummy shower area when suddenly a loud couple of whoops came from a knot of soapy naked flesh on the right. Billy, Doug and one of the guys from the Y jumped about three feet into the air, getting away from the showerhead fast. Several of the other naked guys looked over at them, a few shouting and making jokes about goosing or shit, but then two of the guys nearest them jumped as well. Somebody had flipped the water temperature to icy cold! Doug had been doing a real good job of keeping his muscle butt toward that one camera but was so startled he spun around, trying to clear the icy spray. The camera went in for a close-up of his nice uncircumsized dick and balls low and heavy from the warm shower starting to retract fast, but not as fast as the cameraman. Billy and the third guy, a thin brown-haired guy with the runner's legs and dick to match, were trying to adjust the temperature when the nozzle went dead. Some of the guys were grunting things like "shit time to get outa here" "I've done my share" "yeah let's beat it" when one of the soap dispensers started going crazy spraying the two nearest guys, Doug and Moose and maybe somebody hidden behind their bulk, with white foam. The group started swearing and jumping around like a bunch of crazy kids - which they were - when Moose's adult locker partner from before started slapping everyone nearby with globs of the white stuff. Moose was closest and tried to stop him, but it looked to the audience like the guy murmured something to him and then Moose was doing the same thing! The two of them were splattering everyone they could get at with handfuls of soap. Needless to say some of the guys ready to leave were not happy. A few of them, like Klu and his round friend next to him, had already started to dry themselves with their hands, making motions like they were heading for the door, when the soap fight started. The six steps to the doorway back to the locker area were out of range fast. That was the chaotic scene when the stage door in the locker area opened and who should it be but a guy looking like a weight-lifter, wearing a tan t-shirt and running shorts, both with some kind of logo on them, with a tan baseball cap to match. Big Hank could recognized that Mark guy even from where he was sitting. He came on stage carrying a clipboard and a whistle to his lips for some reason, then went over towards the tiled shower area, acting like he was ready to call a halt to the craziness erupting in the shower area. Instead he made an exaggerated lurch to the side, ducking behind the dividing wall thrusting out maybe six feet from the back, wide enough to keep him from being seen from the shower area, but not from the one cameraman drying his lens with Mark's arrival. Mark's shoulder almost shook the wall loose, it was so flimsily constructed, but stepped back before the whole dividing wall toppled down into the shower area. Mark made a theatrical gesture of trying to hide himself from those guys by plastering his back against the wall of lockers. But what he did next looked even more contrived and unscripted. He found a folding chair which was conveniently positioned between two of the lockers and unfolded it as noiselessly as possible. Whether or not it was quiet enough did not matter because at that point another of the shower heads started acting up. The two guys under that one, Klu and the other late arrival watched the pressure drop until it barely flowed from the nozzle. And to make the point Moose's friend took a position in the doorway, directing the remaining guys towards the four working showerheads. It looked the whole set was ready to fall apart any minute. Mark had placed the chair against the dividing wall and stepped onto the seat not making one squeak. As soon as he did he started jiggling with something on the wall, until a small panel swung open. Mark had "accidentally" discovered a spy hole and was peeping in on the guys in the shower area. To make the situation obvious, he pulled his dick free of the shorts and let it hang there, one hand clutching the clipboard, the other on the small window. Of course one of the cameras swung around from its spot to get into its next position. Mark stood there balancing on the chair, his uncut dick starting to fill out by itself, playing his part of the sneaky perv when the stage door opened again. Dressed in identical clothes was Kroos, except his cap displayed "ASSISTANT COACH" in large letters on the front. He made a big thing about "accidentally" discovering Mark spying on the team! He went over to Mark and grabbed him by the waist, almost toppling him into the wall, bringing the wall crashing down in the process. Some of the guys in the shower room heard the loud bang, but the guy stationed at the doorway told them it was the water pressure coming on again. Some of them bought it; some tried to look around the corner to see what was up. By that point most of them were more concerned about jostling their way into the last remaining shower heads to rinse that soapy sliminess off them. Kroos made a big act of looking shocked and angry with Mark, but because of the way they were positioned they could only gesture or mime their comments. The result of it was Mark was down from the chair, and Kroos had replaced him, seeing what Mark had been ogling when Kroos burst in on him. As soon as Mark was back on firm footing he dropped his clipboard, making more noise than seemed necessary. With his free hand he grabbed Kroos by the crotch, displaying that prominent Viagra-engorged bulge - which Kroos had been trying to hide since he came through the door - and with some juggling and wiggling which Kroos was unable to stop, pulled the front of his tan shorts down, freeing his gigantic red hardon. Kroos managed to ease down from the chair, but not before Mark's mouth found its way to that hard cock. By the time Kroos was standing again on the floor, his cock was red and shiny with Mark's spit. Mark's hand was on Kroos' cock, giving it a gentle milking. "This looks real bad coach" Mark's hand kept Kroos from leaving "didn't know watchin the team naked in the showers was your thing - " "No do not do that" Kroos stood there, trying to keep his voice down. The one camera was close enough to catch their conversation, but the guys in the audience were catching only a word or two. But their actions more than made up for it. "Coach all boned and horny" Mark's hand kept up the steady stroking, his own cock filling out to full hard "horny enough to suck dick?" "What?" "You ever suck cock Coach?" "No never!" Kroos raised his voice, knowing some of the guys in the shower area had to be hearing this "what do you - " "I think it's time you learn to eat the meat Coach. Right now!" "No I will never -" "Or you want me tellin the Head Coach about this!" grabbing Kroos' cock for emphasis "so I'm gonna take my turn and if I don't feel that mouth on my meat in five seconds the whole team hears about this, got it?" and Mark stepped onto the folding chair, his face squeezed to the opening. "One!" "No I will not do such a thing!" Kroos protested, but the camera was already in position. "Two!" and Kroos leaned forward and lowered his face to Mark's crotch. He was sucking away like a pro in no time. Mark stood there, feeling his cock responding to Kroos' steady suctioning back and forth, trying not to rock forward or move, his hands at the opening, keeping the badly braced wall from rocking with Kroos' motions. When they heard the stage door open behind them, they both expected to hear Mort enter and deliver his line. Instead they heard something that almost made them both topple the wall with one loud disastrous bang! "Coach!" Joel stood there, dressed in his own tan outfit, watching the panic at the mixing board as Mister Smith tried to signal him to get the fuck off the stage! Too late! Joel was making his grand entrance, not sure who was going to yank him out of there first. The group backstage he muscled past? Mister Smith and now Mister Johnson/Jones coming around a floodlight fast? Or more likely Kroos coming off Mark's cock, his face white with fear and fury! "Coach what are you doing?" Joel stood there, making sure the camera had a good angle to catch the tube in his tan shorts "Coach!" then Mort and two other guys, all in full football gear, their helmets disguising their faces broke through the stage door, already reaching forward to grab Joel and drop-kick his crazy ass through the roof when something went completely totally wrong! "Hey this big perv just offered me a hundred bucks to show it hard!" came booming over the dividing wall from the shower area, sounding like Brian? "Shut the fuck up Br-Bruno!" that was Moose no mistake. The guy with the handheld camcorder wiped off his lens swinging around from the unscripted chaos in the locker area back to the shower area, looking back at the mixing board guy with panicked confusion on his face. The mixer was talking into his headset a mile a minute waving Mister Johnson/Jones over and in a split-second decision gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. Who gave it to Brian. "Yer fulla shit kid" the big hairy-bellied guy next to Brian tried to motion the cameraman away. When he saw the thumbs up yelled "I never said shit. You crazy kid?" "Ain't the kid's fault all this shit got ya so horny - " "Me too!" came from Matt, shoving between the two "he told me a hundred I heard him too!" "Okay well y'better go get yer wallet" and right there in front of the rest of the guys, Brian bent his knees and started shoving his crotch at the camera. Once Brian saw the lens zooming in, his hand started tugging at his cock, feeling it swelling faster than expected. The supposed offer was not too far off-base because Brian was already half-hard, probably making this shit up to cover the fact he was enjoying all this soapy slippery rubbing and sliding around more than he would admit. More than he wanted filmed, that's for sure. And yet Brian was ballsy and clever enough to pull some crazy stunt, if for no other reason than to sabotage their carefully planned evening. When he saw them give him a thumbs up, he almost chickened out. But his steady filling cock tripped him up; now he had to go through with it. So when he saw they were going to go along with his stunt he whispered to Matt "they better fuckin pay up!" and was well on his way to a big full rod. And of course Matt was not going to let Brian upstage him and get all the attention! So the two of them stood there, almost shoving their crotches into the stationary camera while the handheld came around, but they were standing too close to the water flying everywhere. Of course it was Matt who got the idea to walk up to the camera, almost leaving the lit area of the stage, just so he could upstage Brian. "Knock it off you two!" Moose bellowed, not really sure if this was part of the show or not. What he could see out of the corner of his eye from the the direction of the two shadows making frantic motions over the mixing board suggested it was not. "Yer just jealous" from Matt enjoying the attention he was getting from the hand-held, noticing as long as the camera was down at his crotch, his face was out of view "just because no one wants cares about your fat ass!" which brought more laughter than he was expecting, and not the expected type for that matter. But he was too busy getting his cock all big and hard for the camera. Once it was at its full seven and half inches of red full steel he started flipping it back and forth, almost hitting the camera with it. He knew he was tossing water all over the guy and maybe the camera as well but he was starting to enjoy this more than he could say. Especially knowing the damn crappers could only watch with envy. Brian stood there jacking and twisting, feeling himself getting close to blowing his load and cutting short his new career, looking over at Matt trying to keep up, maybe hoping he would blow his jizz first, but oblivious to the real action, the main even happening in the locker area. The three men in uniform caught Joel in spite of of all too real attempts to evade them, dodging behind benches, almost knocking over a few floodlights in the process. In the noise and confusion, with the guys in the guys in the showers not twenty feet away, they eventually cornered Joel between a bench and one of the cameramen, slapping hands over his mouth, trying to drag his two hundred pound plus frame back towards the stage door, all on tip-toes and in stage whispers. The effect was a bit strange but alarming in its veracity. As soon as that one guy blocking the doorway noticed Joel in a headlock he yelled, "Okay you girls rinse off now! They're turning the water off - " "Just when we're starting to have fun" from Brian, who was almost glad to slow the stroking. He turned to the side, his cock pointing up at a forty-five degree angle for the camera, the other guys, for the whole world to see. And a few were seeing. And from what Brian was seeing, his hard-on was contagious.