Date: Wed, 1 Mar 2017 11:12:42 -0500
From: hitch bolen <hitchbolen@gmail.com>
Subject: Horny in the Dorms Chapter 27

I got through the day's schedule fine, after arriving a little late to the
first one, and feeling just a little under-dressed. The prof didn't care
what you wore as long as you showed up to class and did the required
reading. But I did feel just a little uncomfortable wearing Rob's mesh
undies and his loose "swishy" shorts.

I daydreamed most of the way through the lecture about what he meant by a
"full report." I imagined a fashion show runway with hot models strutting
their scrawny, but toned bodies down the catwalk in a myriad of the tiniest
underwear... their front pouches barely containing their genitals, each
step forward pushing their balls left then right.

I let my imagination soar a little too long, and soon I felt my cock
stir. I had to adjust my junk to relieve the growing pressure of my penis
which was no longer fitting so neatly into the front pouch. The texture of
the mesh felt alien, but they did breathe well, so my balls weren't as
sweaty as they usually got. That was a plus. I tried to remember to tell
Rob about it. He'd probably get off after hearing about how horny these
briefs made me all day.

I left that class pretty aroused. My cock was never going to fit tucked
down into the pouch, it was sticking almost straight up and about an inch
past the elastic waistband. I kept my tee shirt untucked and down far
enough to cover it. I had to remind myself that strutting down the hallways
in the dorm was one thing, but my cock had a way of attracting attention,
and this academic building's corridor wasn't the place.

I managed to make it to the restroom down the hall. I ducked in and went
straight to the urinal against the wall. Closing my eyes, I prayed that
draining my bladder might relieve the pressure a little. I pulled out my
dick and aimed it into the porcelain, waiting a moment to see if the pee
would make it past my erection. I heard a quiet gasp nearby, and opened my
eyes, to discover a guy two urinals down had caught sight of my "problem"
and had verbalized his shock involuntarily. He was embarrassed for me, but
he could hardly look away. His eyes seemed trapped, darting from the little
bit of the neon green mesh underwear to my now raging hard on, and up to my
eyes. His brain was clearly stalled, and I could tell he was trying to
decide in a flash of wonder what if anything he should or could say.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, man. I don't have the patience today, alright?" I
closed my eyes again, tried to focus on peeing, and forget he was there.

Thankfully, he stayed silent, and eventually he flushed and
departed. Before long, I was able to pee, and fit my dick back into their
place. As I washed up, I looked down and it looked almost like I was
free-balling. These shorts -- with these briefs -- left a definite
dick-print in front. I'd have to remember to tell Rob that too.

The next classes went well, and as long as I didn't daydream too much, I
was pretty adept at hiding my arousal. I just hoped I could get back to the
dorm and get my own clothes out of the laundry. Then, mercifully -- the
weekend.

By the time we all gathered in the cafeteria for supper together the panic
had subsided and things were starting to feel more normal. I forgot about
the weird mesh underwear and my dick-print, and just relaxed. It was
probably the extra shot of testosterone up my ass, but I was feeling more
confident than ever.

"Hey, Hitch, I gotta favor to ask," Danny blurted out as soon as I sat
down. "The whole wrestling team is leaving tonight for an overnight trip to
a tournament a few hours away. We'll be gone tonight and all day tomorrow,
and the guy who usually comes as the team manager is really sick, so coach
asked me to see if I could get someone to fill in."

"Uhh... I have no idea what your manager does..."

"It's not a big deal, and since I'm posing for your art class next Monday,
I figure you owe me a favor, and in any case I already told him you'd do
it. We leave in a half hour."

I must have stopped chewing whatever was in my mouth and just gaped at him
in disbelief, because his eyes opened wide and he continued, "But I already
packed for you, I mean ... it was the least I could do after messing up
your laundry today, and I've got you assigned to my room, so we can hang
out, and you know, sleep together?"

Despite my protests, it seemed the deal was done, and as I thought about
it, there could be worse things than being stuck all day in the bus with
the wrestling team, hanging out in their locker room, and ... well ... as I
gulped the rest of my dinner down, my dick decided for me.

I stood up to carry my tray back to the dish room, and Danny said, "your
wood tells me you're as excited about this as I am!" I glanced down and
tried to hold the tray in a way that would hide the huge bulge I was
sporting.

We walked quickly to the main entrance to the building where the team bus
was waiting to pick up the wrestlers at the appointed hour. About12--15 of
the guys were already on the bus, and the coach was standing on the
sidewalk next to the door with his clipboard. He checked off our names and
handed me a manilla folder.

"Here's a simple run-down of what Dave normally does for us, I asked him to
jot a few notes, and there's also the original job description from my
files in there, but I haven't looked at it in years. I'm sure you'll be
able to handle it." He smiled warmly at me as we climbed up into the
bus. "Danny will show you the ropes," he called as we looked into the bus
to find some seats.

Danny stood at the front of the bus and whistled to get the guys'
attention. As it quieted, he announced, "guys, this is Hitch. He's taking
Dave's place as our road crew, so give him a break, okay?"

A hearty round of greetings assailed our ears as we pressed through the
narrow aisle to find seats. It was really warm on board, and I was trying
hard not to stare at the wrestlers, each one sexier than the next, the
thick necks, and bulging biceps. It appeared that they intentionally wore
clothing two sizes too small, to show off their muscles. I also was hit by
the strong sweaty smell of men. Clearly some of them -- maybe most of them
-- had been to the gym to work out this afternoon, and hadn't showered
since. And since it was so warm, there was no need for layers of
clothing. Most were wearing tanks or sleeveless tees and shorts.

The smell was overpowering, and wonderful. Instantly my cock sprang to full
attention. As I brushed past the guys, rubbing briefly against their elbows
in the aisle, their knees, or thighs, my boner was bouncing left and right
and feeling more and more aroused.

About half-way down the aisle Danny stopped, blocking my way and started a
conversation with someone I couldn't see yet. My hands were full of the
bags Danny had packed and the folder the coach handed me, so my hardon was
free to wobble and explore. My crotch was pressed into Danny's backside,
and I was sure he could feel my "situation" so I ground myself forcefully
against his ass as he chatted.

"Hitch, I want you to meet Brock, our team captain. He wrestles 185, he's a
senior, and he calls the shots." I leaned over Danny's back, reached out my
hand and shook Brock's hand. After a firm handshake and a little chit chat,
he said, "Guys, why don't you sit across the aisle so we can talk about a
few things about the tournament?" A quick look proved that the opposite
seats were taken. "Tim. Swank, shove off. I need you to move." Brock
demanded. Not unkindly, but in a tone that spoke volumes for this guy's
natural leadership skills and unimpeachable authority.

As we waited for the seats to clear for us, I just breathed the warm
man-smell and gently rubbed my meat stick into Danny's backside a few
moments. I took a seat, and Danny stowed the bags in the overhead rack.

I began to skim through the folder coach had handed me.

I saw an old photocopy that must be the job description he mentioned. Parts
were crossed off, others items had hand-written notes in the margins. It
seemed the job had changed a lot over the years: • Clean the
mats every day before practice (haul bucket of water up and down two
flights of stairs -- fill it with scalding hot water and bleach)
• Wash singlets, uniforms, towels (take inventory and organize
them too) --"no bleach" scribbled in "on lycra" • Fetch ice and
be ready to perform first aid (do this at least ONCE a day) -- crossed out,
with "trainer" written in.  • Organize files for coach
• Keep score • Keep up with every single thing,
including wrestlers' belongings.  • Be able to change the tape
or battery in a video camera in 10 seconds flat.  • Tolerate
sexual harassment • Learn the hand signals of a referee and
learn all wrestling moves -- and "so you know when the ref misses anything
to get your wrestler more points."

I started to leaf through to the other pages when I felt the bus rumble
into motion, and we began to leave campus. Brock then said, "Dan and Hitch,
I'll want to go over a few things in a bit." And he went forward to talk to
coach.

I looked to the rear of the bus and saw this was the kind that had a tiny
toilet on board. And, while not every seat was filled, most were, and there
were muscled wrestlers in various states of almost undress everywhere I
looked.

"Comfy?" Danny asked, a huge smile across his face.

"Yeah, except for this bus is really hot, smells of sweaty wrestlers, it's
going to be hard to concentrate on much until I take care of a very big
problem."

Danny reached over to my lap, grabbed the bulge and gave a good squeeze,
saying, "in just a bit you'll have my full attention."

When he leaned away, I saw there was now a rather obvious wet spot of
precum oozing from my dick's tip. The gray shorts were covering my junk,
but here was no way to disguise my arousal.

Suddenly, the bus got quiet as the coach started to speak from the front
over the p.a. system. He made some announcements and explained his
expectations for the team. Danny promptly slipped his hand into my shorts
and began to jack me. I was trying to pay attention to the coach, fearing
there might be some mention of me subbing for the sick manager, or some
expectation to say something, but the hand job Danny was giving me seemed
to turn my ears onto mute. I could see the man's mouth moving, but all I
could feel was the slow and gentle up and down of his grip on my dick.

No one could see directly into my side of the seat, but still I wasn't sure
if this was an appropriate place for such a public display, so I glanced
warningly at Danny. He just smiled and looked back at the coach while he
jerked me. I decided that if he was so relaxed about this, then I should be
too. I slipped my free hand behind and down into my shorts so I could feel
my ass hole, sitting on that hand, and Danny provided the pounding in front
I'd been waiting all day for.

I got one finger pretty far up and started to feel like I might go over the
top when Danny stopped abruptly and pulled his hand out and began to
speak. My ears took a few seconds to switch back on. My finger remained
firmly planted up my ass.

"... and we all hope he feels better soon, but in his absence, please
welcome my roommate Hitch, who will be filling in this weekend." He then
pulled me to my feet so the rest of the guys who had boarded after we did
could see me. I was profoundly glad that there was the back of the seat in
front to shield my huge tent in my shorts with a dark gray wet spot right
at the tip of my stiff prick.

We sat back down, and after checking briefly, Danny resumed his handiwork
in my pants. This time he turned to face the back of the bus, squatting in
the seat, his left hand now in my lap, making its moves. He made small talk
with the guys in the seat behind us, laughing and carrying on, all the
while stroking my rod smoothly up and down. I wish I could tell you what
they were talking about, but my ears again shut down and the blood rushed
through my head. Waves of pleasure began to emanate from my root, where my
finger was now pressing firmly on my prostrate.

"Okay, guys, I need a few minutes," came Brock's voice from behind, as he
made his way back to his seat, just across from ours. But his eyes locked
on the scene: my face frozen in pleasure, and Danny's arm clearly
positioned in my crotch. Danny didn't miss a stroke. And on the next
downward motion I was over the edge, past the point of no return, and his
firm grip began to get slick as my day's load of cum spurted forcefully
against his forearm and into my gray shorts. He pulled his arm out, and my
cock now erupted freely into the air a few more times.

The road noise of the bus covered me as I cried out in ecstacy. I slipped
my hand out from behind me, out of my shorts, my middle finger slick from
my ass, closed my eyes, and collapsed into the seat.

I opened my eys and saw to my horror that Brock was still in the same
position, watching Danny and I, and I was sporting a huge wet spot on my
shorts, plus some gobs of cum had reached my chest, and the seat back over
my shoulder.

"When you're ready..." Brock began, "I really need your attention."

"Right, cap'n," Danno raised his arm in a mock salute, with my very sticky
cum smear all across his muscled forearm. Brock smiled as he sat back in
the seats across the aisle. He sat so he could watch as we obviously had
some cleaning up to do.

Danny stood up and took one of the bags from the rack. He pulled out a tee
shirt and shorts and dropped them onto the seat. He then reached over and
began to pull my shirt off. I let him. He used it to casually wipe the cum
gobs from the back of the seat, and them dropped it to the floor. I slumped
down in the seats and pulled off the gooey shorts, and underwear and pulled
on the clean shirt and shorts, not bothering with underwear.

Danny took a seat next to Brock in the row across the aisle, and I slipped
into the aisle, kneeling on the floor, and leaned over, resting my chest
and arms across Danny's legs. All around us guys were listening to their
music, playing little portable video games, and just generally horsing
around and relaxing as we drove.

"Before we get down to business, I want to commend you, Danny for helping
your roommate out in his time of need." Brock started. "I had heard some
rumors round campus about a new guy with a huge cock, but I gotta confess,
seeing is believing! But I take my responsibilities as captain very
seriously, and we have some things to go over to ensure that this
tournament runs smoothly." He then proceeded to explain what he needed me
to do in a calm and confident manner. My duties were pretty simple, and
since I was new, he would keep it to the bare necessities. There were other
wrestlers with more experience on the team that could handle the scoring
and there would be a tournament trainer staff to handle the first aid
responsibilities. But he really needed a non-team member to keep track of
the team's things before and during the match, make sure everyone had what
they needed tonight at the hotel and tomorrow during the meet. He explained
the details, I asked a few questions, and we generally got it all sorted
out. Danny left me alone for a bit to go to the back of the bus and take a
piss, so I sat next to Brock and we talked a while.

He gave me the scoop on some of the guys I'd need to watch out for. "Most
of the guys are cool" he said, "and a few are gay, a few go both ways, and
coach has worked hard to create a team that gets along." He explained that
a few years ago there was quite a storm of controversy, some hazing, some
guys had been beaten up pretty bad, and charges filed. One of the assistant
coaches was fired, and since then, as long as they didn't make it into a
big issue, they agreed to get along -- for the sake of the team. And, of
course the coach had laid down the law about any harassment and the dire
consequences.

It seemed the understanding was that any sexual activity needed to be
consensual and invisible, meaning the coach didn't want to know about
it. "Coach especially objects to anything that distracted from the focus of
being the best wrestling team we could be." By the end of the twenty
minutes or so I had the impression that Brock was a really level-headed and
smart guy, and we would get along fine.

Danny returned, and sat aggressively down on my lap. "Did you give him the
low-down, cap'n?" he smiled.

"He'll do fine," Brock assured him.

We returned to our seats. Danny said, "You should know that the guys are
pretty tolerant, but mostly they're just horny meat-head guys with
incredible bodies and they love to get their rocks off."

"Well, after hard workouts, wrestling in skimpy skin-tight outfits for
hours, what else could they be thinking?" I asked.

Just then, a guy with fire-red hair popped his head over the seat and said,
"coach wants to see Hitch in the front of the bus."

I made my way to the front, getting my ass slapped by almost
everyone as I passed. Some were slapping really hard, others just gave a
little tap, some gave a gentle, but serious squeeze. I pretended not to
notice, thinking that it wasn't that big a deal, and anyway, I needed to
see the coach. Just as I reached the front someone pulled my shorts down
below my knees, and as I wasn't wearing anything else, the guys behind me
-- everyone on the bus -- got a good look at my ass as I bent over to grab
them back up. And the roar of laughter made the coach look around, just in
time to see me tucking my cock back into the loose gym shorts. He grinned
and raised one fist into the air, and magically, within a second or so, the
guys were silent. I was impressed.

Without raising his voice much above a normal tone he gently spoke, "Give
Hitch a break, guys, we've got some serious matches ahead of us tomorrow,
and I don't want any distractions. Understood?"

And like robots, each and every guy on the bus responded as one,
"Understood, coach!"

I slipped into the empty seat across from coach, my face still red from the
attention, but tried to remain calm.

"I understand you are an art major." He looked directly at me.

"That's right, coach." I maintained eye contact.

"A lot of the guys on the team study a variety of things in college, but
I've never had one from the art department." He looked down at his sheaf of
papers. "Are you any good with a camera?"

"I've been told so, yes. I'm looking forward to a photography course next
semester, but I'm comfortable with a camera."

"Would you be willing to operate the team camera tomorrow? Usually I have
Tim do that, but since we're short-handed this trip, I asked him to sit at
the score book."

"Sure, I'd be happy to do that, coach."

"Good. Now here's the main thing I need you to look after for me. When we
arrive at the motel, each room will have four guys. Here's the list. The
motel staff will help you check them into each room, and I need you to make
a note of their room numbers on this sheet." He then explained that the
luggage would be brought to the rooms by the motel staff based on my
checklist, since each team member's bags had their team number on it.

"Then, tomorrow as we board the bus to go over to campus, all those bags
need to go back under the bus and the wrestling equipment, uniforms, etc
need to be brought to our locker room. I need you to check out their
gear. Here's that checklist, and where you'll mark that each guy has his
gear. At the end of the tournament, check here as they hand in their
stuff."

"Sounds pretty clear, coach." I said.

"Yeah, it should go smoothly, but with these guys, poor slobs, there's
always a few that would lose their own heads if they weren't attached," he
chuckled. "Then, during the matches themselves, I need you to find a
position to capture as much of the action as possible. Here's the camera
bag. I'll be using the footage to review the matches with the guys later."

Now, with my hands full of a big camera bag and two sets of checklists
papers, I turned to make my way back to Danny. So, of course the first guy
I passed pulled my shorts down again, and with no way to do anything, I
pushed my way -- bare-assed, balls swinging freely, my shorts down below my
knees -- to my seat.

"Well, dude," Danny smirked, and took the camera bag from me so I could
pull up my shorts. "It seems the team has accepted you. That is as close to
hazing as we're allowed anymore."

"At least while the coach is concerned," Brock added with a smile.