Date: Tue, 29 Oct 2013 11:05:23 -0700 (PDT) From: Macout Mann <macoutmann@yahoo.com> Subject: IT STARTED IN A PARK 11 This story is completely fictional and any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. The story also contains explicit sexual acts between males, so be warned! This story is also brought to you through the generosity of the many donors to nifty.org. Without their contributions this site could not exist. Please consider a gift to nifty.org today. You'll be glad you gave. Your comments and criticisms are appreciated. Please write me at macoutmann@yahoo.com. Copyright 2013 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved. IT STARTED IN A PARK by Macout Mann Chapter 11 Thursday Evening Jim arrived at Christian's promptly at four, six pack in hand. It had become a weekly ritual. Jim was still in jeans, but on Thursdays he had begun to wear less "holy" ones than usual, and since Fall had come, his torso was covered in a chambray shirt rather than a t. "The others are due at five," Christian said. "If we're goanna do anything, we better get started." "I never will understand you," Jim replied. "Both of them have watched us mess around. So why pretend?" "Just the principle of the thing," Christian answered, as he unbuttoned his buddy's shirt and began to massage his nips. Soon they were both naked and feasting on each other's boners, lost in a total high. While Vernon's perfect bod was the result of careful exercise, Jim's was the result of hard work. To Christian, each provided an experience to be savored. Jim just loved sex, any kind of sex, and Christian's endowment was "something else." They had barely dressed and opened beers before Vernon arrived. He had no problem surmising what had been going on. "Been enjoying each other?" He laughed. "You could have waited for me." "That's what I told shitface here," Jim retorted. "We have a student to think about," Christian primly interjected. "Yeah, and I'm thinking hard about him," Vernon giggled. "With this part of your brain," Jim teased, grabbing Vernon's package. The doorbell interrupted their horseplay. Wearing a pink shirt with matching socks, Sammie had arrived fresh from his therapy session, freshly fitted with his correctional device. "Hello," he said, "Thish sing shture feelsth funny, but it sheems to be helping already." "It really is," Christian remarked. "Yeah," Jim chimed in. "Do what they tell ya, and you'll be cured in no time, I'll bet." "I hope sto." Jim offered Sammie a beer, his first. He didn't like the taste but considered it part of his reeducation. Christian was not pleased, but didn't say anything. Teachers shouldn't get students tipsy either. "You ever do pushups or situps, Sammie?" Vernon asked. "Oh no." Vernon dropped to the floor and quickly did twenty-five of each. He wasn't even breathing heavily. "See how many you can do," he ordered. Sammie couldn't even manage the proper form for pushups. With Vernon holding his feet, he did manage a three or four situps. Jim spoke. "Vernon would like to help you get into better shape, Sammie. Would you let him take you to the gym some evenings? It'll make you feel a lot better." "I dunno," Sammie said. "Guys will make fun of me." "No," Vernon interjected. "I'll see that they don't, and we can go in the evening or weekend mornings during free time. Not many guys will be there." "Well..." Sammie was still hesitant. "...I'll try." "That's my man," Jim said. "I want all yall to know how much I appreciate what yall are doing for me," Sammie said. "I'm goanna do a prethsent for all of you, but I've only had time to finish Mithster Hart's." From the stuff he'd brought with him he removed a rolled 19"x24" sheet of premium drawing paper and gave it to Jim. "I hope you like it," he smiled. Jim unrolled the offering and revealed a black pen and ink sketch of himself. He was shirtless and the image was perfect in every detail. "My god!" Jim exclaimed, "Do I like it? I fucking love it!" Christian was stunned. "Sammie, I've never seen any of your work. I had no idea. You are amazing." "I wanna be bare-chested too," Vernon cried. Vernon also volunteered to drive Sammie to his dorm. "We can work out a schedule for our workouts," he said. Jim was disappointed that he didn't get to drive Sammie home, but he realized that Vernon needed to move the project forward. And as soon as the door closed behind Vernon and Sammie, Christian piped up. "Alone at last," he said. "I gotta get home to my wife and kids," Jim retorted, "but I guess we got time for a quickie." Pulling away from Christian's apartment, Vernon began asking questions. "So you have a roommate?" "Yesh, but I hate him and he hatesth me. He thinks he'sth tho fucking straight and macho, but I thsee him checking me out. And he calls me `Fairy Boy.'" "Well, if we can get some muscles on you, he won't be doing that anymore. You got any more friends?" "Not really. I've met a few guys at the park, but we just have thsex. I know a couple of gay guys from my classes, but we don't really pal around." Sammie rested his hand on Vernon's thigh. "You and Jim and Mr. Ballard are my only friends." Vernon could feel his prong react. He quickly changed the subject. "Well let's see about when we can get together for workouts...Let's see. You're doing your lisp therapy Mondays and Thursdays." "And Saturday I do things with Jim," Sammie interjected. "Well, why don't we try Friday evenings and Sunday afternoons to start. There won't be a whole lot of guys using the gym either time. We'll start off getting you used to the equipment and doing stuff you can handle." "I'll try," Sammie said again. "And you'll succeed, tiger." They'd arrived at Sammie's dorm. "And don't forget your workout shorts!" Vernon called, as Sammie bolted into the building.