Date: Tue, 21 May 2002 05:32:48 +0000 From: Jemland Medlock <jemland2u@hotmail.com> Subject: Jemland's Box - Part 1 ============= Jemland's Box ============= NOTICE: This text contains adult material. If you are under 18 years old, if this material is illegal where you live, or if you find this material offensive, you are choosing to read on at your own risk. At the date of submission of this story, the Nifty Archives website is registered with www.surfwatch.com, www.cyberpatrol.com, and www.netnanny.com in a good-faith effort to help parents monitor and control their children's internet access. This author does not endorse or represent these software products or the organizations sponsoring them, nor does this author guarantee their effectiveness. Your comments are welcome and appreciated. Please send email to mailto:jemland2u@hotmail.com. ============= Part 1 - Introduction The shower in our university dormitory was a large room with two towers of nozzles and handles on either side of the room. The sinks lined up just outside the doorway to the shower room. I would stand at one of those last sinks brushing my teeth and adjusting my stance before the big mirrors there in order to catch the reflections of the hunks on my floor as they disrobed, bathed and toweled themselves afterwards. Most were well muscled, the tone of their growing torsos showing months of hard work and exercise as their bodies developed in the youth of their adulthood. Standing where I was I could enjoy the workings of those muscles as they would take those short deliberate steps into the shower room, the wave of movement across those broad shoulders, moving diagonally down the back and across the buttocks, down the thigh and calf all the way across the foot, each step a ballet of strength and beauty. After the water began, the echoing patterings of gobs of water splashing on the tile floor could be so intoxicating. I would watch the traces of shampoo and soap cascade over smooth ripples of flesh, sometimes reflecting the light of the naked light bulbs above. That day I was getting an eyeful of a hockey player from down the hall. We had partied and got drunk together many times that semester, usually over some grueling drinking game of cards. He could be so playful and mischievous, tucking his dick under to pose for a candid photo or running down the hall naked, snapping his towel at unsuspecting victims. He was fair-skinned with long locks of light red hair. They fell easily about his strong jawbone and thick neck. We chatted briefly as he came in; he was getting ready for class. I stood and watched as he removed the towel from about his waist and reached out to hang it on the second to last peg. His forearms and hands were huge. The movement of his shoulder blade and extended back muscles under that beautiful skin sent a shiver through my body. His ass seemed so small compared to the expanse of his back and shoulders and his enormous thighs. He walked lazily into the shower room and chose a spot where I could enjoy all his fine features. He took his time lathering himself with his back to the water, rubbing the soap behind his neck and then massaging his shoulder muscles. Then his hands made their way across his pecs and nipples, his head now lowered to watch himself flex and approve of his own abs. His sides were not as well developed, showing proof of his love for burgers and beer. While soaping his upper chest, his free hand traced its way over his abs and down into the bush of his pubic hair. Spreading his fingers to frame his cock he moved his hand through the tight curls of dark hair, grabbing himself and shaking his cock so that it bounced over his balls. His cock was long and smooth, hanging down straight and strong. His hand moved back to his chest to gather some of the suds there and then took full grip of his cock at its base, pointing it straight forward as he spread his feet further apart, bending his knees slightly. Holding his cock he threw his head back launching his now wet, wavy locks over his head. Looking at the ceiling, the skin under his chin pulled taut over his broad neck and his Adam's apple bobbed up and then down as he swallowed. Rotating his hand, he stroked his dick out and back, placing the bar of soap in his other hand at the base of his cock while pulling the pale folds of his foreskin back and forth over the bright red knob of his cock head. Continuing to stroke his cock, his clenched toes grasped at the tile floor as he tried to place more weight upon them, bending his knees a little and flexing his thighs. I had stopped my grooming at the sink and had turned to face him, placing my hands at my sides. I was being drawn toward him yet my feet would not take the steps. His eyes were closed in ecstasy while he licked his lips at the ceiling. Still stroking slowly he removed the bar of soap from the base of his cock and placed it between his ass cheeks, sliding it up and down there in rhythm with the movements of his other hand on his cock. Then, snapping his head forward, his eyes flew open and he stood perfectly still under the still streaming flow of water. He looked right at me and his face was completely blank. My stomach clenched as I realized he had caught me ogling his whole body. A split second later my body reacted and I jolted back toward my sink. His face curled into that familiar mischievous smirk and his eyes twinkled at me; he had been putting on a little show and the joke was on me. He busted up laughing and made me feel instantly better. "You know, you and Jason've been whacking off together too much." Feeling much more comfortable I chided in while grabbing my crotch, "Watch what you say 'boa-eh', 'er you'll have somethin' else besides soap up there!" He rinsed off and came out reaching for his towel. I had filled my toiletries box with cold water and now heaved the water at him. Although turning away he stretched out his hand to block the water, it splashed his torso and the towel in his other hand. He chased me through the bathroom and down the hall with his wet towel. Eventually he stood chuckling in the doorway to my room holding the towel. He was still basically dripping wet, beads of water on his chest and arms, glistening in the light from the hall. His cock swung heavily from his loins, his red cock head just barely peeking through the wrinkles of his foreskin. "Base," I cried. I held onto the bedpost with both hands. "Oh no you don't," he taunted as he ran toward me raising the towel to throw over my head. He grabbed my crotch through my gym shorts with one hand, pushing me onto the bed with the other. He bounced me up and down on the little twin bed saying, "You're not going to get away with it, buddy boy." Releasing my cock he flipped me over and started swatting my butt. I was laughing so hard all I could do was twitch and squirm, trying to get away from him tickling me. "Stop. Stop. Stop." I managed between gasps for air. Finally he let up and got up on his knees at the edge of the bed with that wicked grin, deciding if I had had enough. "What the Hell?" Our R.A. was standing in the doorway eyeing the two of us. Me, face down on the bed, my tee shirt ruffled and exposing my back and stomach underneath me. Though my gym shorts still covered my ass, the sting radiating there made me feel naked with my ass to the wind, not to mention the butt naked demigod of skin and muscle kneeling on my bed next to me still wet from his shower. His towel lay discarded on the floor next to the bed. I could feel the blood in my face, hot from laughing so hard. I looked at my R.A. and then at that dangling cock easily within reach. "Uhh... We..." I stuttered. "You're next, Jacko," he said, breaking the silence as he jumped off the bed and reached for the towel. Our R.A. jumped and took off down the hall. Holding the folds of his towel to cover his groin my naked guest promised, "I'll get YOU later." Little did I know what our little escapade would prompt in my sleep that night. ============= Copyright 2002 Jemland Medlock. All rights reserved. mailto:jemland2u@hotmail.com This story is fictional. Any resemblance to real people, places or events is coincidental. By submission to the Nifty archives, Jemland Medlock grants a non-exclusive, worldwide, royalty-free, perpetual, and non-cancelable license to the Nifty Archive Alliance and its approved mirror sites.