Date: Thu, 4 Mar 2004 13:26:42 -0600
From: robert brown <rbrown001@cox.net>
Subject: AWAKENING OF INNOCENCE: Part Two, Coping With The Aftermath
AWAKENING OF INNOCENCE
Part Two - Coping With The Aftermath
I woke up the next morning in a different world. My day so far had been
the same, but I was different.
Not having seen Ron all day, I guessed he wasn't working at the high
school that day. I'd hoped we'd be together tonight. My parents were out of
town, so my time was my own. I'd thought about him all day and what we'd
done together. I was anxious to see him.
After basketball practice, I jogged around the track a few times before
returning to the gym. As I entered the locker room, I noticed not many guys
were still there. Someone was in the training room talking to the coach. I
pulled off my sweaty suit, but kept my jock on while I took the dirty
clothes over to put in the barrel. I sat down in front of my locker to rest
a little before I showered, stretching out on the narrow bench and closing
my eyes.
Some of the other guys came through and said bye as they left. A few
minutes later I heard the coach holler at them as he closed the door behind
him. It was quiet and cool in the room, so I thought I'd better get up or
else I'd go to sleep for sure.
As I opened my eyes and started to get up, I caught sight of someone
coming out of one of the toilet stalls. Immediately I recognized Bart's
face, especially when he caught sight of me and gave me that same smile he
did yesterday.
He stopped and began to ask me questions about basketball and such. I
gave him short answers as I got my towel out of the locker and acted busy
with that. Then he began to walk slowly around the room, as if to see who
else might be there. I didn't think I knew, but hoped we weren't alone.
Eventually I got my stuff together and went into the shower room, hoping
he'd leave. He didn't.
Getting into the shower, I started to slip off my jock strap, but then
I decided no, I'd keep it on. If he had any ideas, he'd see I wasn't
interested, and I sure didn't want to him anything to see that would
increase his own interest.
Sure enough, he moved up to the entrance of the shower and, leaning
against it, talked about sports. Ignoring what he said, I quickly soaped my
body, wanting to get this over with fast. I was getting pretty nervous for
some reason.
No matter which way I stood, I could see him either checking out my
butt or staring at the huge bulge in the wet and clinging pouch of my
jock. As the water ran swiftly over my body, its added weight kept pulling
down the pouch of my badly- stretched and old jock, gradually exposing my
bush and some of my meat.
I tried not to call attention to it, but the faster I soaped and
showered, the more it inched down my cock until it hung, caught only
slightly by the thick head of my dick, most of the shaft exposed.
I reached down and tried to jerk it up quickly, but as I yanked it up,
most of my dick fell out of the side, dangling from one of the straps. I
didn't mean to, but I must have really been providing him a show.
He said I should just take the jock off and let it all hang out. He'd
seen it several times before. That struck me. Was it possible he'd been
watching me shower with the other guys all along. I'd never realized
that. I thought maybe I was being silly. What the hell did I care if he
got his jollies looking at my meat. . . as long as he just watched, but
didn't put his hands on me.
I let the jock fall to the floor and continued showering. Sensing its
freedom, my dick relaxed and slowly began stretching outward and hanging
lower and lower to the floor.
The warm water running down into my groin twisted around my shaft and
clung to my balls, swelling from the warmth. I knew he was watching. I
could feel it.
Bart was silent, but had moved closer to me, inside the shower. I
ignored him at first, but soon turned away from him because I realized that
as his eyes moved slowly around my body and lingered in my crotch, his face
had become very serious and he'd slid his hand into his pocket and was
playing with himself.
Then he said in a low, flat voice that gave me chills, I had a wad of
meat and sack of goodies that anybody would be happy to chew on for
hours. I panicked a little at this. My first reaction was to just get
out. I turned quickly to leave the shower, but as I did, I slipped on the
wet jock on the floor and fell to the tile floor.
The pain in my twisted ankle was sharp. I rolled over on my back and
caught hold of my ankle. My legs fell open, my cock and balls spread out
against my thigh.
Staring at them, he came into the shower and squatted down next to
me. He put his left hand lightly on my inner thigh and said for me to
relax, he'd help me to the old couch in the corner of the locker room. I
forgot for a second my situation and said okay.
He slid his left arm up between my legs, his hand beneath my butt, and
the other around my waist, lifting me easily into his arms. He continued to
hold me in the same way. I could feel my dick and balls being smashed up
against his arm between my legs and his hand squeezing the cheek of my
ass. His body was pressing against mine so closely that I could feel him
breathing.
His breath on my face, I felt his hot, dry hands on my moist body, his
fingers between the cheeks of my butt, resting on my tender ass hole. Then,
as we moved out of the shower, I felt him slide his middle finger up in my
ass. I quickly jerked my body to the side and, saying I could manage,
forced his finger out of my ass hole. He still held my naked body up in
his arms, but eventually let go.
As my foot touched the floor, I realized I couldn't put any weight at
all on it. I fell up against him again and, quickly wrapping his arms
around my wet body once more, he told me to wait a minute and catch my
breath, as he found more reasons to touch me in more places.
Rubbing the left cheek of my butt, he asked if that was sore. I pulled
his hand away and told him no, it wasn't. Then he put his open hand on the
lower part of my stomach, grazing my pubic hair, and rocked his hand back
and forth, pressing in on my stomach, forced my heavy dick to sway from
side to side, its huge head bobbling up and down.
Watching this seemed to arouse Bart even more. Saying I might have
pulled a muscle in my groin, he slid his hand eagerly down across my pubic
hair until it pressed against the base of my cock. Then, rubbing around the
base of my dick, he worked it gradually up more and more into his
fingers. Realizing this finally, I caught his hand and shoved it away
again, saying the problem was in my ankle.
I was getting very nervous and uneasy. I had to find a way to get his
body off mine. I didn't like being a helpless kind of easy prey for his
hungry sex appetite, especially when I was completely naked and helplessly
available to his hands.
Looking him in the eye, I asked him to just get me to my locker. He
seemed to give up and we started to my locker.
The distance from the shower to my locker seemed longer than usual. As
we were crossing the floor, he found many chances to feel parts of my body,
mostly around my butt and stomach. He was probably saving the parts he
really wanted to fondle again for later. The ankle hurt badly, and I
couldn't walk alone, so I tried to put up with him.
With every step, he shifted his hands to other parts of my body and dug
his fingers into my flesh, trying always to move his hands into my groin
and eventually onto his goal, my hugely swollen dick. I blocked him at
every opportunity. I knew he was also trying to steer me to the old couch
in the corner, but I insisted that I go to my locker. I'd be safer there,
out in the open, and at least I could put on some clothes.
As he was helping me down onto the bench in front of my locker, I
almost fell. He quickly grabbed what turned out to be my upper thigh. I
fell into him again. This time I leaned down and soon realized my dick had
flopped over the back of his hand and, before I could get settled on the
bench, he already held my dick tightly in his hand and seemed content to
just hold his prize and wait until he could put it to better use.
As soon as I was able, I tried to pull his hot, sweating hand off my
cock. But, acting as if he didn't realize what he was doing, he stroked my
dick, while moving his head down, ready to slip his mouth over my dick.
I tried to get his hand off my dick, but his grip was very strong. I
couldn't force his hand off, and he'd already begun sucking the head of my
cock. Protesting, I tried to get up, but his weight on my lower body and my
sore ankle prevented my getting any kind of leverage. The more I
struggled, the tighter he held my cock and the deeper he moved his hot
mouth down onto the shaft.
Also, the more excited he became, the more I felt his teeth cutting
into the sides of my cock. I could only move my body a little from side to
side. Immobile, I was frightened of what he might try next. There was
really nothing I could do about it. Nothing. I thought about yelling for
someone to help me, or that maybe someone would come in and stop him.
But, it seemed, I'd just have to go through with whatever he wanted to
do to me. Maybe if I did, he'd then leave me alone that much
quicker. Still, what could I do to get help after he was finished.
Looking to the side at the floor, as I heard and felt him sucking on my
dick, I suddenly realized I did have a way to get help. I had a cell phone
in my locker. I'd use that to get help when he left.
Suddenly a solution occurred to me. I could use it now to at least
scare him away.
As he grunted with satisfaction, rolling my swollen dick around in his
mouth with his tongue, I reached past him inside my jacket pocket in the
locker and retrieved the cell phone. Then, disgusted and in pain from his
teeth, I shoved his mouth off my cock with a strong blow from my elbow.
Surprised at the force, he looked up and pulled his mouth out of my
crotch. I leaned back, hiding the cell phone behind me. At first, I could
say nothing. Wiping the saliva from his mouth, he started to put his head
back into my crotch, sucking the sides of my cock and licking it noisily
with his tongue.
I heard myself cry out to him to stop it, to leave me alone. He paused,
but then just began to rub the inside of my thigh, and scooping my balls up
in his hand, squeezed them with his rough fingers.
My dick was sore from his teeth and the punishing things he'd been
doing to the head of my cock. It was raw, very red and angry looking. He
squeezed my balls even harder and began to chew frantically on the base of
my cock. More than fear, I was in agony.
Reacting to this last painful abuse of my groin, my body stiffened and
my anger grew. Although my voice was unsteady, I told him if he didn't stop
and get out of the locker room, I would call the front office. He grinned
at me and said to go ahead. He didn't think the front office could hear me
yelling from the basement of the gym.
Then holding the cell phone higher so he could see it plainly, I pushed
autodial and he heard it ringing. His face became serious, and the smile
faded. He released my balls from his hand and sat upright.
I said nothing more. He stood up, turned away from me and said I
didn't fool him. He knew I liked to turn on guys, especially guys like him
who appreciated what I had to offer. He was just giving me what I asked
for.
Taking a towel from my locker, I laid it across my lap. I didn't say
anything back to him. I didn't want to make him more angry. I just wanted
him to leave.
Seeming to be walking out the door, he stopped and looked back at
me. He was breathing hard and staring fully into my face. There were other
boys, he said, who liked it, and he could have them any time he
wanted. But, he added, the two of us weren't finished yet.
His final comment, as he went out the door, was if I said anything
about this, I'd get all of us in trouble and that I didn't want that. As
the door closed behind him, I just about fell apart.
Alone in the locker room, I telephoned the front office for help. It
rang and rang, but no one answered. I didn't think it was after 5:00
yet. There should have been someone in the office, even on Friday
afternoon. I called once more. It rang and rang. That time someone did
answer.
Recognizing the voice the minute I heard it, I became very emotional
for some reason. I tried to stay calm, but my ankle hurt still, my body
felt dirty and unclean, my groin sore and raw. My nerves were stretched
almost to the breaking point. I was shaken.
I asked him to come to the locker room and help me. I explained I'd
fallen in the shower and couldn't put pressure on one leg. He said he'd be
there in a second.
Walking straight up to my locker, Ron sat close to me and, looking into
my face, smiled and stroked my back. Unable to hold back my emotions, I
felt tears stream down my cheeks as he pulled my body against his. He
remained very calm and said not to be afraid. We'd take care of my ankle
and it would soon be good as new.
I smiled a little to imagine he'd think I was so upset over only a fall
in the shower. He'd never guess what I'd just been through with Bart. And I
hoped he'd never know.
First, he said we should take care of the ankle.
He went into the medicine room and put a cloth over the examining
table. Then, when he came back to get me, I tried to stand up and put my
hand on his shoulder so he could walk me into the room. But he just picked
me up with one easy move and carried me into the medicine room.
The towel still over my lap, he laid me on the table and began to
examine my foot. He turned it gently to the right and left, pushed back
lightly on the toes, and generally examined the ankle itself.
Except for a little swelling, he said my foot seemed unharmed. He said
if it didn't improve overnight, he'd take me to a doctor and get it
ex-rayed. Until then, an Ace bandage and sturdy shoes would probably enable
me to walk. Or, he said we could use crutches. We'd just wait and see what
worked best.
As he was putting on the Ace bandage, he asked how I'd fallen and it
I'd been in the shower alone. I told him about slipping on a wet jock strap
in the shower, and I said everyone else had gone. He laughed about that and
said it was so unlikely a story no one would ever believe it.
He asked if I knew which guy wore his jock in the shower, and I said I
didn't know, but that it was still on the floor. Then, as he rubbed my leg,
he asked if I felt better. I said yes, but I'd feel even better if I could
rinse my body off. He said no problem, the doctor was there. And with that,
he lifted me off the table and carried me into the shower.
Since I couldn't stand unsupported, he took off his uniform and stood
under the shower stream with me, while I soaped and showered with him as my
support. The water felt so good running over my body, washing off the dirt
and grime of the last hours.
I washed my dick very well, especially the head, to remove any trace of
Bart. I soaped my ass hole and groin, washing and rinsing my pubic hair
carefully to remove any of his dried saliva. Cleansing my body of his
touch, I could only hope my mind would also be as quickly cleansed of any
memory of what he'd done to me. I was thankful to be safe with Ron, secure
in knowing I could depend upon him.
His body was also a beautiful thing to behold so close to mine with the
water running off one of our bodies onto the other's.
As I showered, I savored the feeling of his body against mine. I loved
the gentle, but firm touch of his hands on my skin, and the occasional
touch of his full crotch against my lower body.
At one point, he stood behind me and, putting his arms around my waist,
he cupped my dick and balls in his hands and, pressing his cock against my
butt, rocked from side to side, while the water ran down over our bodies.
Eventually, he turned off the shower and said I was balancing myself
pretty well. He suggested I try to stand alone and see how I managed. We
let go of each other, and he backed up a couple of feet. I was a little
wobbly, but remained on my feet.
He smiled, saying he was proud of me. I looked at his smooth, firm body
standing openly proud and squarely in front of me. His legs spread wide
apart, his shoulders muscular and square, his arms powerful and strong,
loosely by his side, I felt irresistibly drawn to him.
Beads of water clung to the thin white fabric of his wet pouch, under
which the contours of his swollen dick and heavy balls were outlined
visibly. My dick had also begun to swell. I wanted him badly.
Facing me and moving closer, he put his arms around my wet body,
pressing his full lips against mine, his arms moving up under and over the
smooth cheeks of my ass. We had not really kissed before. In fact, I'd
never kissed any man before. His lips were thick and soft, but there was a
hardness in his kiss, like in his body.
Continuing to hold me tightly, he turned his face slightly as our lips
moved gently against each other's, creating an instantly powerful bond. For
a time, I felt we existed only in each other. It was a long kiss which
neither of us gave up easily.
Ron was the first to speak. He stepped back, saying he'd try to find
some crutches. I agreed, so he took me out to my locker, and soon came back
with the crutches and another towel.
As we dried ourselves off, I watched as he took off his tight, wet
bikini briefs. He tried to pull them off over his wet skin, but was having
some difficulty. They clung to his body. As he pulled it over his dick, it
bounced up and down as if waving to me, while his huge balls pushed out
from under the pressure and fell into place.
Tossing the wet underwear into the bottom of my locker, he rubbed
inside his groin, saying it was still wet. Leaning forward, putting my
hands around the cheeks of his ass, I pulled him closer to me. Then, after
licking the water off his stomach and inner thighs, I rested my face
against his meat, inhaling the smell of his crotch and licking the water
from the hairs on his balls.
His dick swelled rapidly. Lifting its head, I moved his dick into my
mouth and held it with my lips. Then, as I massaged the head of his cock
with my tongue, it thickened firmly between my lips. We were both soon
breathing very heavily.
Reluctantly withdrawing his cock from my warm mouth, he said we'd
better not let that go too far. There were things we needed to get done
first. Then, pulling me up onto my feet, he said like learning to walk on
crutches.
As I stood, we both were surprised to find that the pain had subsided a
lot. I could almost stand easily.
Ron knelt down in front of me and was adjusting my bandage when I
noticed him looking intently at my groin. I asked what was wrong. He said
my dick was very red and looked swollen in places. He lifted it into his
hands, turning it about. Examining underneath the shaft, he said it had
scratches and marks that looked like teeth prints on the shaft and head.
Looking at me, he asked what had happened.
Feeling my face flush, I didn't know what to tell him. Looking down
into his eyes, I said I didn't know, maybe it happened when I fell in the
shower.
Shaking his head slowly from side to side, Ron said that wasn't likely,
at least not all the damage I had on my genitals. Looking at my sack and
inside my groin, he said some of the red places looked like whisker burns
to him.
Seeing how hard he was taking this, I said finally I'd tell him the
truth, if he wanted to hear it. Interrupting me, he said no, he'd tell me
the truth. He knew exactly who did this to me. I was silent, wondering how
he'd found out.
Then he said he had done this to me and looking at it made him sick at
his stomach and very ashamed of himself. He said he knew he'd gotten a
little carried away last night when we were together, but he had no idea he
was doing such damage to my body.
He said he couldn't ask me to forgive him because he'd never forgive
himself for doing it to me. At that point, I said no, last night was
wonderful. I loved everything he did to me and I did to him. He was
wrong. He had not done this to me.
Refusing to listen, he said he'd make it up to me. He also was ashamed
he hadn't gotten me off last night, but had only used me to get himself
off. He'd just thought of himself so far, but not any longer. My face
flushing with embarrassment, I said he must have forgotten how wonderful
he'd made me feel when he got me off the afternoon before in the boys'
room.
Holding my face in his hands, he leaned over and kissed me gently,
saying no, he'd never forget that. Then, leaning his face against mine, he
asked if I could stay with him again that night and, if so, how long could
I stay. I told him my parents had been, and would still be gone next
week. We could be together as long as he wanted tonight and for several
more days.
He liked that. Smiling, he said to meet him in the gym again tonight at
nine o'clock. He'd leave the south rear door ajar for me to get in. I
agreed, of course. Finished dressing, we started to leave.
As we walked by the shower, Ron looked in, catching sight of the wet
jock strap on the floor. He picked it up, squeezed the water out of it and
shook the tangles out. Holding up to the light, we both looked at it. Then
Ron said the worn out jock looked old and kinda shot, like it had been
through a lot.
I said nothing . . . especially when he remarked that it also looked
just like the one I'd been wearing the night before.