Date: Fri, 19 Dec 2003 10:33:00 -0500
From: Jeff Allen <jeff_allen15@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Love on the Court" Chapter 5

This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual
activities between males.  If you are not of legal age, reside in an area
where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality
and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.

The author retains all rights to this story.  No reproductions or links to
other sites are allowed without the permission of the author.

Note: I owe a special thanks to Robb for doing the final proofreading and
catching all those silly little errors that I missed.

LOVE ON THE COURT


CHAPTER 5

JOE'S PERSPECTIVE:

We had our team meeting the day before classes started that fall.  Witt and
I sat next to each other.  Coach Melton smiled at that when he walked in
the room, and I blushed remembering my snub of Witt the previous year.  How
could I have been so stupid?  The guy I'd snubbed the year before was now
my best friend.

One of the new freshmen was Jean-Marc LaPont from Quebec.  He stood about
six foot five or so with what looked like a fairly solid build.  He had
curly brown hair, blue eyes, and a quick smile.  He was reputed to be a
good rebounder and inside shooter.  Another new guy was Antwon Jones from
some place near Cleveland.  He played center and stood about six feet nine
inches and must have weighed in at around 250 pounds.  The guy looked
solid!  He had medium milk chocolate colored skin with the blackest eyes
and the biggest hands and feet I'd ever seen.  He also smiled easily
showing pearly white teeth with a small gap between the two front upper
incisors.

Witt and I had enrolled for the same class schedules again that term.  We
had organic chemistry at eight, world history at nine, microbiology at ten,
and music appreciation at eleven on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.  Organic
lab was on Tuesday at 9:30 and the microbiology lab was at 8:00 on
Thursday.  We teamed as lab partners in the chem and micro labs.

I felt like a different person when Witt was around.  He made me happy.  I
could laugh.  He never made me feel like I was second class or not as good
as every one else because I came from a poor family.  I had realized over
the summer that I was in love with Witt Sadler, and that meant I really was
gay.  I didn't want to be, but I was.

I had to talk to some one about my feelings, but who?  I certainly couldn't
talk to Fr. Maggiotti, our priest at St. Elizabeth's; he'd made it very
clear in his homilies and by the penances doled out during confession that
he took a dim view of any homosexual behaviors.  I couldn't talk to my
grandfather.  I was afraid he would be disappointed in me.  I certainly
surely couldn't talk to Witt; if I did, I might lose his friendship.

I finally settled on talking to the priest at the Catholic Campus
Ministries, Fr.  MacDonald; he was new on campus that year, and the school
newspaper had run an article about him early in the fall semester.  I was
desperate to talk to some one so I decided to take a chance on
Fr. MacDonald.

I made an appointment with him for right after my micro lab.  I made some
excuse to Witt about having something to do and told him I'd see him at
practice later in the afternoon.

I was nervous as hell when I walked into the Catholic Campus Ministries
building at the edge of the campus.  Father MacDonald came out of his
office to greet me.  He was dressed in slacks, loafers, and a long sleeved
casual shirt.  He looked to be in his mid-thirties, about five feet ten
inches in height, maybe 170 pounds or so in weight, with brown hair and
eyes, and a friendly air about him.  His nose was slightly crooked from an
old break, but it fit with his rugged good looks.

"You must be Joseph Ronkowski."  He shook my hand.  "I'm Matthew MacDonald.
Just call me Father Mac."

"How do you do, Father.  Please call me Joe.  Only my grandfather calls me
Joseph.  Thanks for seeing me."

"That's what I'm here for, Joe.  Come on in to the office."

He indicated a comfortable looking chair in his office.  I sat down, and he
closed the door before taking another chair facing me.

"Now, what can I do for you, Joe."

I screwed up my courage and plunged right in.  "Father, I think I'm in
love."

He smiled at me.  "And this is a problem because...?"

"It's a problem because I'm in love with another man."

To my relief, he didn't become angry or appear to be repulsed by my
admission.  He replied softly, "And you're having problems with that,
right?"

I hung my head.  "Father, I don't want to be gay."

He pulled his chair closer and gently placed his hand on my knee.  "Joe, do
you know for certain that your gay?"

"I must be.  I'm not attracted to women at all.  I tried when I was in high
school, but the thought of being with a woman just doesn't do anything for
me.  I've always been attracted to guys.  Father, I've tried to change.
I've prayed.  I've struggled, but I just don't think of women in a sexual
way."

"But you do think of men in a sexual way?"

"Oh, yes, I...Don't get me wrong, Father.  I've never done anything, if you
know what I mean.  Well, nothing except, you know,
jack...ah...masturbation."

He smiled warmly.  "It's okay, Joe.  I've heard the term jacking off
before.  In fact, I've done it just like every other guy."

I must have looked surprised.

He laughed.  "I wasn't always a priest, you know.  Besides, even priests
need some relief from time to time.  It's not like we can go out to a club
and hook up with someone for the night."

That response relieved a lot of my tension.

He continued, "Joe, first I don't think there's any thing wrong with being
gay or bisexual.  All of the recent research I've seen indicates that we
have very little to say about our sexual orientation.  Being straight or
being gay is something that's in our 'nature'.  There may be some 'nurture'
involved, but basically you're gay because that's the way God made you."

"But the Church says it's wrong."

"Historically the Church has held homosexuality to be wrong or sinful, but
I think that's been because homosexuality has been associated with 'casual
sex'.  God made you gay.  I don't think that means that God demands that
you live a celibate life because He made you gay.  I do think that human
beings are meant to love one another.  One form of that love is the love
that can exist between two adult humans.  The physical acts of giving
pleasure to the other partner are just a means of expressing that love.

"Does your friend know that you love him?"

"We're good friends, but he's straight.  At least I'm pretty sure he is."

"Does he know you're gay?"

"No!  No one knows...except you, me, God, and Fr. Maggiotti, my parish
priest.  He's heard my confessions."

"I take it he hasn't been very sympathetic in the confessional."

I hung my head again.  "No.  I've stopped confessing certain things to him.
That makes me feel terrible when I take Holy Communion."

"Joe, you don't have to make your confession within the parish where you
receive communion.  I hear confessions here during lunch and at 5:00 most
days.
  You can come here if you wish."

"Thank you, Father.  Would you hear my confession now?"

"Yes."

I began the familiar ritual.  I cited all of my sins of commission and
omission.  I confessed to thinking impure thoughts, of desiring another
male, of wanting him as my lover.

When I was finished, Father Mac simply told me that I was absolved of my
sins.  No penance!  No condemnation!  I broke down and cried.  Father Mac
rocked me in his arms as I wept.  I felt as if a ten ton weight had been
lifted from my shoulders.

                       **********

I began meeting with Father Mac every Thursday.  We talked about my
concerns with being gay, my fears of rejection if people found out about
me, my feelings of insecurity and inadequacy.  He listened.  He made gentle
suggestions.  He led me to understand that, no matter what, God loved me,
and because He loved me I needed to love myself...to be proud of myself.
We always ended the sessions with me making my confession.  I found
complete acceptance in his presence.  For the first time since my parents'
deaths, I was beginning to feel at peace with myself.

                       **********

The week before our season started, Coach Melton was working us all extra
hard.  The team was really gelling.  Witt and I were the ball handlers and
point men.  Antwon Jones, the big freshman from Cleveland, was working well
as our center.  Jean-Marc LaPont, the freshman from Quebec, and one of the
few seniors on the team looked like they would be the other two starters.
The hours of time Witt and I had spent over the summer were paying off.
Instinctively we knew where the other guy was going to be on the court.  We
knew what moves would be made.  I felt good about the team.  I doubted we
would be league champions that year, but I was only a sophomore.  We had
three more seasons to work on winning the championship.

I started spending more time in the team showers after practice.  Mostly
because Witt and I would shower next to one another and talk.  Of course I
also checked out Witt and the rest of the guys, discreetly of course, as we
showered.

I'd run a little later than normal one evening.  When I got to the bus
stop, I realized that I'd left a notebook in my locker.  I needed it to
study for a quiz in history the next day so I sighed and headed back to the
locker room on the other side of campus.  There was no rush.  I'd miss my
bus and have to take a later one.  I stopped at the student union to call
Grandpa to let him know that I'd be late and continued on to the gym.

Most of the lights were out in the locker room when I entered.  I retrieved
the notebook from my locker and turned to head back out the door.  The
sound of a shower running registered in my brain.  I figured the last guy
had forgotten to shut off the shower so I headed into the shower area to
turn it off.

I got to the door to the shower and froze.  Antwon Jones and Jean-Marc
LaPont were in the shower.  Antwon was kneeling with his face buried in
Jean-Marc's crotch.  I'd admired both Antwon and Jean-Marc's bodies before
when I'd seen them naked.  This time I saw them in a different, and
intensely sexual, light.  Jean- Marc's eyes were closed, his handsome face
reflecting the pleasure provided by Antwon's mouth.  The water from the
shower hit his shoulders and cascaded over his broad, lightly haired chest
and down his hard six pack abdominal muscles.  He stood with his legs
splayed apart as Antwon sucked on his rod and played with his balls.  I
knew from before that Jean-Marc was uncut, like me.  When soft his dick
wasn't too spectacular with the foreskin hanging down below the head of his
glans.  This was a totally different appendage that was being serviced by
Antwon!  It looked to be almost eight inches long and quite thick at the
base.  Antwon backed off of Jean-Marc's prick drawing the foreskin up over
the head with his lips.  He used his hand to move the skin back down over
the sensitive head and then slowly engulfed the entire shaft in his mouth.
Jean-Marc shuddered in pleasure.

Because they were standing sideways to me, I could see Antwon's full body
as well.  The big man was enjoying his treat.  His dark muscled body
glistened with water from the shower.  He was using his left hand to play
with Jean-Marc's balls and dick while his right was working on his own huge
cut pole.  His thick cock looked like it was nearly nine inches in length
as he stroked it in rhythm to his motions on Jean-Marc's organ.

Suddenly Jean-Marc's body stiffened.  "Here is comes, baby!  Take my load!"

His body spasmed as he shot his love offering into Antwon's waiting mouth.
At the same time Antwon's weapon fired off three rounds of ropey white cum
that splashed against Jean-Marc's leg and foot.

Antwon stood, pulled Jean-Marc into an embrace, and kissed him hard.

My own dick was pushing hard against the confines of my jeans and leaking
precum.  I tried to back out of the doorway back into the locker room, but
at that moment Jean-Marc opened his eyes and saw me.

"Shit!"  He practically jumped away from Antwon.

Antwon turned his head and saw me also.  The look on his face was
priceless.  I wanted to laugh, but managed not to.

"Ah...Joe...we...ah..."

"It's okay guys.  I'm not going to say anything.  You need to find a more
private place next time."

I turned and left hoping they hadn't noticed the big bulge in my pants.
  I was almost all the way to the bus stop before my erection subsided.

                       **********

The telephone rang about nine that night.  Grandpa answered it.

"Joseph, it's for you."

"Hello?"

"Joe, this is Jean-Marc.  Uh...Could Antwon and I talk to you tomorrow
morning?"

"I've got classes until noon.  Witt and I usually grab some lunch after
that.  Do you want to meet us in the Union?"

"Uh, this is kind of a private matter.  It's about what you saw today."

I grinned.  "Okay what about right after lunch.  One o'clock outside the
Union?"

"We'll be there.  And, Joe..."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome.  See you guys tomorrow."

                       **********

I told Witt that I had to meet some people after lunch.  I knew he was
curious, but he was always real good about respecting my space.

Jean-Marc and Antwon were waiting for me.

"Let's go to my dorm room.  My roommate's got a class at this time."
Antwon led the way.

No one said a word all the way to the dorm and up to Antwon's room.  In the
room I sat in one of the desk chairs.  Jean-Marc took the other chair, and
Antwon settled his big frame on one of the beds.

We all just looked at each other for a second or two before I started out.
"Okay, guys.  You wanted to talk.  What's up?"

Antwon cleared his throat.  "Joe, about what you saw yesterday.  You said
you wouldn't say anything to anyone about it.  Do you mean that?  'Cause if
word got out me and Jean-Marc would be finished here."

"At ease, guys.  I meant what I said.  I don't care what you two do for
recreation.  You just need to be more careful about where you play."

Jean-Marc joined in, "Joe, what we did yesterday was foolish.  We knew we
were taking a big risk.  We've learned our lesson."

Antwon cleared his throat again, "Ah, Joe, do you still want us as
teammates after what you saw?"

I looked from one to the other.  "Guys, I don't have a problem with it.
  Some of the other guys on the team might, but I don't.  It's not going to
make any difference in how we work together on the court.  It doesn't
change the fact that you're both talented players."

I saw a look pass between them that was more than relief.

"Ah, guys, what I saw in the shower wasn't a one-time thing, was it?"

They exchanged looks again.  Antwon nodded, and Jean-Marc responded.  "Joe,
Antwon and I have been seeing each other since the second week of school.
We're real serious about each other."  With that, Jean-Marc left his chair
and went over to sit on the bed next to Antwon.

"I'm glad it wasn't just a hormonal thing in the showers, but you guys have
got to be more careful.  You don't need to worry about me.  I'm not going
to 'out' you to the team or any one.  That's got to be your decision.
Think about it."

I stood to leave.  They stood also.  We shook hands.  I think Jean-Marc was
ready to draw me into a hug but thought the better of it at the last
moment.

        #######################################

WITT'S PERSPECTIVE:

The fall semester started out great.  Robert and I were rooming together
again, but he was hardly ever in the room.  He had connected with a girl
late in the spring semester, and they were making up for lost time when
they got back together in the fall.

We had some real good new guys on the team, especially Jean-Marc LaPont who
was from Canada and Antwon Jones from Cleveland.  Those two really clicked
in practice; there was some kind of special chemistry between them, and I
saw them around campus together all the time.

Joe and I were also doing well on the court.  We were both more relaxed.
We ate lunch together almost every day.  Most Saturdays I went over to his
house to study.  Grandpa Ronkowski would cook up some big hearty Polish
meal for us all, and Joe and I, and sometimes the neighborhood kids, would
play Horse or half court in the driveway.

Early in the semester, I knew there was something bothering him.  Of course
he never said what it was, and I'd learned better than to try to pry.  He
started going over to the Catholic Campus Ministries building about once a
week.  At first he made excuses about having a meeting and not being able
to eat lunch with me.  I admit I was curious...maybe jealous...thinking he
might have some one on the side...not that I could say anything if he got
some thing going with a girl.  I figured I'd lose him as a friend if I told
him I was gay and in love with him so I kept my mouth shut.  Later he told
me that he was meeting with Fr. MacDonald, the priest.  I was relieved it
wasn't a girl, but I wondered what he and the priest talked about every
week.

Whatever they discussed, those visits to the Catholic Campus Ministries
really made a difference.  He was almost a changed man after that first
meeting with the priest over there.  He was more outgoing, less up tight,
and less reserved and controlled.  I liked the change.

He took on a leadership role with the team also.  By the time our season
started the two freshmen, Jean-Marc and Antwon were acting like they
worshiped the ground he walked on

I wanted to tell Joe how I felt about him, but I was afraid.  Me.  Super
confident me was afraid.  I'd rather keep being frustrated in my love for
him than lose him by telling him I was gay.

(To be continued)