Date: Thu, 21 Apr 2011 09:16:39 -0700
From: h.schreiber@hushmail.com
Subject: Just Like Scott Chapter 15

Warning! This story is a work of fiction written by a legal age adult. Any
similarity between the fictional characters and any live persons is purely
coincidental. This story contains fictional descriptions of sexual activity
between consenting youth and young adults. If you are under the age of 18,
and/or if you are offended by this content, and/or if it is illegal in your
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This work is copyrighted (c) by Hans Schreiber. You may not reproduce this
story in whole or in part without the express written consent of Hans
Schreiber at h.schreiber@hushmail.com.


       Chapter 15

       I'll Take Door Number Two

       After their embrace, Scott turned off the water and stepped out.
Feeling Sammy pressed against him and boned up like the kid was, affected
Scott somehow. When Sammy followed him out of the tub enclosure, Scott took
the fluffy towel and draped it over Sammy's head and rubbed his thick,
brown hair dry. Sammy smiled. Scott rubbed Sammy's shoulders and arms then
did his back and chest. Scott quickly dried his own hair to stop it from
dripping all over the place and then knelt down. He dried Sammy's cute butt
and up inside his crack. He pulled the towel down one long, skinny leg and
then the next and finally, gently rubbed around Sammy's little ball
sac. Scott reached out and slid the hood off Sammy's purple dickhead and
tenderly dabbed at it. "Now you're getting older, you need to start feeling
up your balls when you shower to make sure you don't get any lumps on
them. Dad'll talk to you about this stuff soon. You do it like this."

       Sammy stood there staring down, watching his big brother take each
of his balls between his thumb and finger and roll them around. Sammy loved
the attention. It had been a long time since anyone had dried him off after
a shower or bath. He stayed boned the whole time.

       "Why do you do that?" Sammy asked.

       "To check for cancer lumps. Once boys get to puberty like me and now
you, there's a bigger chance it can happen. If you ever feel a lump, you
have to tell mom or dad. But, it probably won't happen, so don't freak out
about it. It's just to be safe."

       "Okay. Can I check yours?"

       Scott smiled. "Sure, I guess." He stood back up and dried his own
arms and upper body while Sammy cautiously reached out and took Scott's
long, damp, dangling balls between his small fingers and rolled them around
the way Scott had done to his. Scott enjoyed being fondled by his little
brother's probing fingers. His dick grew from half to full, standing at a
45 degree angle from his abdomen. While Sammy rolled Scott's second ball in
his fingers, he reached out with his free hand and slowly slid Scott's dark
brown pubic hair between his thumb and pointer finger.

       Scott watched the examination while he pulled the towel slowly
across his backside. His mind reflected back on Matt at Camp Challenge and
the "help" they gave each other. He thought about some of the other young
boys he had watched cavorting naked in the showers and reflected how Sammy
was already pretty good sized for his age by comparison to most of them. He
knew it wouldn't be long before Sammy started to really develop and change.
Scott wondered how Stewie was doing and if he was still getting up each
night to piss and jack himself off. He wondered if he might have convinced
Curtis to help him out by sucking him off like Scott had taught him about.
He had an urge to reach out and take Sammy's precious little erection in
his hands and stroke it for him, but he resisted.

       "When do you think I'll get some hairs?" Sammy asked, jarring Scott
from his daydream.

       "Soon probably, since you started squirting some now."

       Sammy smiled and said, "I hope so. I hope I get lots just like you
have, but I don't wanna get all hairy like Nick is. I hope my wiener and
balls grow as big as yours someday."

       "They probably will. Yours is pretty big for your age already."
Scott said. "So are you done checking me for cancer?" Sammy stopped rubbing
Scott's left ball and playing with his pubic hair and sort of froze.

       Then he let go and stepped back. "Yeah. Thanks for showing me about
that."

       "Sure. Big brothers are supposed to teach little brothers about
things," said Scott, drying off his privates and butt and legs.

       "I kinda wish Mike hadn't taught me all about that other stuff
now. It would be funner to learn it from you."  Sammy looked wistfully at
his brother.

       "Yeah, I wish so too, squirt. Oh well, at least you know about it
and are having fun with it. Just try to not let it take over your life
completely. Keep enjoying just being a kid for a while, okay? Like, have
fun with baseball and swimming and even playing make believe like you did
with Rib ... I mean, Skinny Wolf." Sammy smiled and nodded okay.

       Sammy and Scott stood next to each other at the countertop and
brushed their teeth. They watched each other's boners waggle in the mirror
from the brushing motion, even though they had drooped a bit. Scott peered
out of the bathroom door, down the hall, and declared the coast was clear.
They both scurried naked and boned back to their rooms. Scott pulled on a
pair of boxers and got out his trumpet and scales book. He started working
through the difficult scales that he knew were the key to improving his
ability. He stayed in just his boxers since he planned an early bedtime and
that is how he usually slept. He was definitely rusty on his scales, but
the more he played them, the less he had to think about each note and the
better his intonation became.

       Scott felt a hand on his bare shoulder. He startled and jerked
around to find Sammy there.

       "Here Scott," he said, holding out a homemade CD. "I almost forgot;
I had mom make a copy for both you and Mike."

       Scott smiled appreciatively and took the CD. "Thanks Sammy. You're
awesome." Sammy beamed and scampered out the door. Scott noticed how long
his legs were in comparison to the rest of his body as they extended out
from his blue plaid boxers. He had well defined, strong calves from riding
his bike so much. Scott went back to his trumpet but switched from scales
to some songs out of his jazz book. He started playing some of the stuff he
had demonstrated for Tom that day in the band room at camp. "Thank you Tom,
wherever you are," Scott said out loud. His voice wavered and his eyes
blurred with moistness.

       He wondered if he would ever see Tom again. He thought and thought
how he could find him. He'd tried calling the camp but they couldn't, or
wouldn't, disclose personal information. He kicked himself for not even
remembering his last name. He racked his brain again and again. If he had a
last name he could search on Google for him maybe. He didn't even know what
town he lived in. Scott felt an overwhelming sadness at the loss of such a
great friend, and to be honest with himself, great lover. Never had Scott
enjoyed sex with anyone the way he did with Tom. He realized it was because
of the emotional attachment as well as the physical. It was sex play with
Nick and the others and honestly, even with Mike. But with Tom, it was
making love.

       Scott suddenly longed to feel Tom inside him again. He desperately
longed for the tender touch of Tom's lips on his. He remembered the scent
of his cheap cologne. The smell of Tom's freshly shampooed hair as they
held each other in the doubled-up sleeping bags flooded his memory. Could
he ever find someone to feel love for like that again? Did his mom and dad
feel like that for each other? Could he love a girl like he loved Tom? Is
this why Tom was so messed up by his friend from high school? He understood
Tom a bit better now. He didn't even realize how much he loved Tom until he
was taken from him. He sighed and glanced at the tent in his boxers. He
gave it a little squeeze then went back to playing his horn.

       After a bit, Scott's mom walked in and leaned against the doorway to
listen and smiled. She so loved having her boys develop their musical
talents. She had been so sad when Scott decided to quit band and
orchestra. But after pushing him as far as she thought she could, she
realized she had to back off and accept his decision. Scott turned to drain
his spit valve and his eye caught his mom's presence. He slid around in his
chair and asked, "How long you been standing there?"

       "Not long. I'm so glad your friend at camp talked you into picking
up your instrument again."

       "Me too. I have to follow my heart and not bend to others' ideas
about what I am or should be, you know?" Scott glanced down at his crotch
as discreetly as possible and made sure the fly wasn't open to his mom's
view and that his tent was down. It was buttoned up and securely flat, to
his relief.

       "I do know," his mom concurred. "I always knew music was in your
heart; I sensed it. I was so sad when you quit, but I realized it had to be
your decision. I hoped that one day your heart would win out. By the way,
Mr. Thomas called and I gave him your cell phone number, did he call you?
What does he want?"

       "Oh, shoot, I forgot. Yeah, he called and left a message when I was
in swimming. Do you think it's too late to call him back?"

       "No, not really. Find out what he has to say."

       Scott carefully set his expensive, silver Bach trumpet in the case
and grabbed his cell phone. He found the message from Mr. Thomas and hit
the return call button. "Hi Mr. Thomas. This is Scott Johnson. I saw you
left me a message earlier. I hope it's not too late to be calling you
back."

       "Oh Scott. I'm glad you called. I have a friend with the
Philharmonic in town. They have several openings that they're trying to
fill in the Boise Youth Philharmonic Orchestra. It would be a really
wonderful opportunity for you. They practice every Thursday evening and
have six or seven performances each year. The exposure would be magnificent
for you, if you can make the commitment. Auditions are Saturday at 1:00 in
the concert hall."

       Scott was overwhelmed. He had attended a couple of their concerts
and they were amazingly good. "Do you think I'm good enough?"

       "I wouldn't have bothered calling you if I didn't think you were
good enough. You're the only one who doesn't recognize your potential. It's
time you got over that and started believing in what you can do."

       "Well, okay. Thanks. I definitely wanna try out. What do I need for
the audition?"

       "Pick a classical piece and prep as good as you can for it. I know
the notice is short. If you want, you can come over to the high school
tomorrow and I will work with you. How about Joseph Haydn's Trumpet
Concerto in E Flat?"

       "The one he wrote for Anton Weidinger, the guy who added keys to the
trumpet back in the 1800's and extended its range?"

       "Yes. My God, someone was listening in music appreciation class
after all. I thought everyone was asleep in that class. You're making me
cry." He chuckled and so did Scott.

       "Yeah, well don't get too choked up; I only paid attention to that
because it had to do with the trumpet; I actually did sleep through the
rest of your class. I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye."

       "What's up?" his mom asked.

       "Mr. Thomas wants me to audition for a spot in the Boise Youth
Philharmonic Orchestra on Saturday. He said if I come over to the school at
1:00 tomorrow, he'll help me work on a piece for it. We would have to
travel to Boise every Thursday night for practices."

       Mom pressed her fingers to her lips, "Ahhh, are you serious? My boy,
playing for the Philharmonic? That's so exciting."

       "Mom, don't get carried away. It's just an audition. And it's just
the YOUTH Philharmonic. It doesn't mean I'll make it. I'm pretty rusty."

   "Well don't just sit there yacking, mister. Get busy." Mom smiled and
headed down the hall to Sammy's room.

       She was surprised to find the door closed and turned the knob to
open it up. As she pushed the door open, she caught a flash of Sammy
whipping the covers up over himself. He was acting nervous and sitting with
his back against the headboard. He slipped carefully down into the bed and
pulled the covers up over his chest and tucked them just under his arms and
raised his knees. His mom sat on the edge of the bed and placed her hand on
his arm; then she gently rubbed his bare shoulders. "What you up to?"

       "N,nothing. Why?"

       "Just wondering what you were up to all quiet and behind closed
doors."

       "N,nothing. Really. Just thinking."

       "What about?"

       "You know. Just things."

       "Boys. I'll never understand them. You can never get a complete
answer out of one." She reached down and brushed his bangs aside, then
kissed his forehead. "Sleep tight."

       "G'night mom. Love you."

       "Love you too, son. G'night." She turned the light off. "Door open
or closed?"

       "Closed, I guess." His mom smiled sweetly and pulled the door back
closed. The latch clicked loudly.

       "Whew." Sammy sighed in relief. He reached down and found his
shrunken toy. A minute or two of fiddling with it and it was recharged for
action. He pushed the covers off and slid back up and propped some pillows
behind his back. He watched the skin slide down and up and down over the
sensitive head. He coordinated the physical sensations to the visual
observation, noticing the exact spot where the tingles intensified. He
pushed the stiff little toy downward until he felt a dull aching pressure
at its base. Sammy pulled his fingers away quickly and watched as it sprang
back up into normal boner position. It made him giggle.

       He did this several more times before seeing how far he could
actually push it. He reached the point where it complained loudly as he
pressed it into the crease of his thighs. Then, he spread his legs and
pushed further. The aching increased more and more as he forced it
downward. With full determination, he pressed on until it was all the way
under his thighs. Quickly, he pulled his fingers away and the recoil was so
powerful, it flipped all the way up and slapped against his belly before
settling into its normal boned position at about a forty-five degree
angle. It made him giggle even harder.

       He wondered if he could push it all the way up between his butt
cheeks and placed his finger across the top of his small shaft. He took a
deep breath. Slowly and steadily he pushed. At his legs, the dull aching
started. When he was past his thighs again, he thought it might break off
if he pushed any further. Sammy clenched his thighs tightly back together
and tensed his muscles, trapping his dick beneath them. Carefully, he
extracted his finger from the top of his little toy. He squeezed his dick
beneath his thighs and felt the struggle between his thighs trying to hold
it, and the recoil in his dick trying to break loose and free it. He traced
his finger along the bottom of his "V" in his crotch where his dick should
sprout from. There was a crease formed there instead and he thought about
the video he'd seen of his mom and dad doing it. He thought about how he
looked like a girl instead of a boy. He wondered what it would feel like
sticking his toy inside a girl's crease. He thought about some of the girls
at school that said he was cute and liked his dimples. He thought about the
ones he thought was cute and wondered if the slits between their legs
looked like the one he was making on him. Finally, the dick won out, popped
loose, and slapped hard against his belly. More giggles erupted.

       He heard Scott next door playing his trumpet. Sammy placed two
fingers along the topside of the shaft of his little instrument, placing
his thumb underneath. He flipped the fingers up and down along it as though
he were fingering his clarinet. He was enjoying playing with it and
experimenting. He pulled the skin back and examined the funny looking head
in the glow of his Winnie-the-Pooh nightlight. Sammy looked over at the
light plugged into the wall. Pooh had his hand in a honey pot. Pooh was one
of his favorite books when he was younger.

       "Hey Pooh?" Sammy said softly, "You like to play with your thingie?
Do you and Piglet ever suck each other like me and Ribs do? I bet you do. I
bet Eeyore and Rabbit like to jack off just like me. I know Christopher
Robin does. Has Christopher Robin got any hair down there yet?" Sammy
smiled at his little fantasy.

       "Hey, Pooh! If Rabbit does it, that means he's a 'Jack Rabbit.'"
Sammy started laughing at this joke he made up. He imagined being
Winnie-the-Pooh, peeking in Rabbit's burrow and seeing him lying back with
his bottom paws sticking up in the air and jacking himself off with one of
his top paws. His ears would be all flopping around and one of his big feet
would be twitching and kicking in the air. Sammy started laughing again
like crazy just thinking about it.

       Scott stopped playing and heard the laughter. Curious, he stood up
and walked into the hall. Sammy started jacking himself in rapid "jack
rabbit" fashion with his legs pulled up and one foot flipping in the air
like Rabbit would do. The tingles got really strong then and he was anxious
to watch his juice squirt out of his little carrot. He imagined being
surrounded by the brown walls of Rabbit's burrow. He thought how he would
look up just as he squirted to see Pooh stuck in the hole of his burrow
spying on him. "What are you doing, Pooh?" he would ask all annoyed, like
Rabbit gets. Pooh would say, "Umm, excuse me Rabbit, I was just wondering,
does that stuff taste like honey?" Sammy giggled again just as he realized
two things he was powerless to stop were about to happen. One, he was about
to squirt his carrot juice and two, his door was starting to open.

       Scott stepped in just in time to see Sammy jerk his head downward to
watch the spurt of clear juice splatter onto his belly and not just once
but twice. Sammy relaxed, dropped his feet to the bed and turned his gaze
toward the spy, asking with an annoyed tone, "What are you doing in here,
Pooh?"

       "What?" Scott said confused then catching on to what just happened,
he said, "Oh, hey, sorry. I heard you laughing and came to see what was so
funny. I didn't know you were ... you know, playing with ... your, umm, you
know. But hey, did you just call me poo?"

       Sammy flushed hot and pulled at his covers. He kept his hand wrapped
around his little carrot underneath them, though. He liked holding it that
way afterwards. "I was just pretending I was Rabbit and that
Winnie-the-Pooh caught me jacking off." Sammy said. "Then you walked in and
caught me and it kinda just came out cuz I was thinking it."

       Scott laughed. "I see. So what was so funny before that?"

       "Oh. Just, I was thinking like, how I was pretending it was Rabbit
doing it, so I was thinking that made him a 'Jack Rabbit.'" That struck
Scott funny as well and he laughed even harder than Sammy had.

       "You're so goofy. That's really very funny, actually. Good one,
squirt. K, well, sorry I interrupted your fun. G'nite."

       "It's okay. G'nite." Scott pulled the door closed and Sammy pushed
the blankets off and ran his fingers through the slippery carrot juice on
his belly. He skinned back his foreskin and traced a finger around the
gooey head. He licked his finger clean and wiped the rest off with a
Kleenex. Reaching deep under the covers he retrieved his plaid boxers and
pulled them back on. He slid down, plopped his head on the pillow, and fell
fast asleep.

       Sammy woke the next morning to the sound of trumpet music. Scott was
up early and working on a concerto. He kept stopping and starting each time
he would mess up. Finally, when Sammy was completely bored just laying in
bed listening to it, he got up and stretched. He heard Scott cry out,
"Yes!" as he managed to get clear through the whole piece without stopping.

	Sammy walked to Scott's room and asked, "Whatcha doin'?"  Scott
looked over and smiled. "Morning, squirt. Did I wake you?"

	"Yeah."

	"Sorry. I just have to practice today."

	"Why?"

	"I'm auditioning to be part of the Boise Youth Philharmonic
Orchestra on Saturday. Mr. Thomas got me a tryout."

	"Oh. Cool. Does that mean you're gonna go back to being in band in
school for sure?"

	"Yeah, I am. Cool, huh?"

	"I guess."

	"What? Why'd you say it that way?"

	"Well, does that mean I have to stay in band?"

       "No. Not if you don't want to. But don't quit it just because
someone like Mike tells you it's not cool. That's a dumb reason. I like
playing in the band and I don't care what anyone else thinks about it
anymore."

       "K. But you get to play a cool instrument. I'm stuck with the stupid
clarinet. The only other boy in the clarinet group is Daniel and he wears
girl's socks."

	"No he doesn't. Get out."

	"Does too. They're pink."

	"They're probably just white ones that got washed with something
red," suggested Scott.

       "That's what he said too, but I don't believe it. I think he likes
wearing them. He talks funny too. So I'm stuck in the girls group with only
just Daniel and I feel stupid."

	"Look, when you get into junior high, there will be a lot more boys
in the clarinet section. Plus, there are a lot of famous guys that played
clarinet."

	"Like who?"

       "Well, Benny Goodman is one for sure. He had his own swing band. He
was really famous. Plus, he didn't wear girl's socks." Scott laughed. Sammy
grimaced.

	"Any others?"

	"Well, not that I can think of, but probably."

	"See. I bet you know tons of famous trumpet players."

	"Well, I like the clarinet sound. You're really good with it,
too. Maybe you could see if you could switch to saxophone. Now I know tons
of famous guys who are sax players and chicks really love it. There's this
one named Clarence Clemons who plays with Bruce Springsteen and the E
Street Band. Here check it out."  Scott pulled out his iPod and found a
song featuring Clemons called Thunder Road. He put the ear buds in Sammy's
ears and watched as Sammy's face lit up.

       "That's awesome." Sammy said. Meanwhile Scott pulled up a music
video of it on his laptop. He also showed him some of Kenny G.

       "Look, even President Clinton played the sax." Scott showed him a
YouTube video of him playing.

	"Cool. Did he start playing clarinet before he switched to the sax,
do you think?"

       "Not sure, but this one secretary girl played his clarinet in the
oval office once and got him in a truckload of trouble." Scott sniggered.

	"Huh?" Sammy asked with his nose wrinkled up.

	"Never mind," Scott said still chuckling to himself. Sammy just
shrugged.

       "I'm asking mom if I can switch." Sammy wheeled around and run off,
armed with Scott's iPod to support his argument. Scott shook his head and
smiled, wondering how much blame he would catch for encouraging Sammy to
switch instruments.

       Sammy came skipping in to return the iPod as Scott finished the
concerto for the second time without any major mess-ups. "Guess what? Mom
says if I want to try sax, we can rent one and if I really like it better,
I can switch. Thanks." He threw his arms around Scott's neck.  "You're
welcome, but let go, you're choking me to death."  "Sorry." He skipped off
humming Thunder Road to himself.

       Scott had the piece almost down, only lacking in some of the tongue
action where the notes were rapid. It came out a bit slurred which was
unusual for him. That had always been one of his strong points, being able
to double and triple tongue the fast notes cleanly. "Maybe sucking all
those dicks has messed up my tongue action," he mused. Of course, he
realized it was just from not practicing for so long. The muscles in his
tongue were out of shape. Scott had a very long, flat, and fairly wide
tongue. He could stick it out far and roll it up. Maybe that's why Nick
liked his blowjobs so much, all the tongue action. He had a very quick
muscle twitch in it that allowed him to stop the air with both the front of
his tongue and the back of it for incredibly crisp sounding, rapid staccato
notes.

       Scott was about to try it again when his mom walked in. "Scott, do
you want to go with to swimming, or stay home and practice some more? After
swim, I need to take you over to the high school."

	"I'll go. My lips need a rest. I'm a little out of shape."

	"Okay, well get ready then, we need to be leaving. Where's Sammy?"

	"No idea, not my day to watch him."

       His mom walked off, a bit annoyed at the comment and at Sammy for
disappearing. She stepped out back and called his name. He had finished the
chores she'd asked him to do and even put away the tools as far as she
could see. She walked out back and called again. To her surprise, the shed
door opened and Sammy popped out, tugging nervously on the front hem of his
t-shirt. That wasn't a normal tic of his and it struck her odd. "What were
you doing in that hot shed with the door closed?"

       "N,nothing. Just putting the shovel and hoe away."

       "Well, hurry up. It's time for swim."

       "Oh yeah. I almost forgot. We're gonna learn to do the butterfly!"
Sammy tore off running toward the house. In his room, he pulled off his
shorts and boxers. He held the front of his boxers up but the wet spot
didn't smell, and he tossed them in the dirty clothes basket and got some
fresh ones. He pulled back on his shorts, grabbed his Speedo and towel and
headed to the kitchen. Scott was already there with his gym bag.

       "Hey squirt, mom's waiting in the car. Let's go."

	On the way over, Scott put in the music CD Sammy gave him. "I owe
you one for this, Sammy. It's great. You think your friend can get his
brother to make some more?"

	Sammy's gut tightened. "Maybe. I don't know."

	"I'd pay him something for them or at least give him the blank CD's
if he wanted."

	"I'll see," Sammy said weakly.

	When they arrived at the pool, Tommy and the other boys were just
checking in ahead of them. They all headed into the lockers together. Mike
was just pulling on his suit and his dick and balls were scrunched up
against the waistband of his Speedo as he pulled it over his firm ass then
reached around and tucked his genitals into the fabric. He adjusted
himself, laying his large penis sideways to the left. His balls created a
nice bulge in the center between his legs. He tied the drawstring and
looked up.

	"Hey," greeted Scott.

	Mike just nodded back and said, "Hurry you guys. We're learning the
fly today so we need all the time." He shut his locker, snapped the lock
and rushed off. Scott felt sad. He was lost. He knew in that instant he was
lost after all those years. Just like that and almost overnight everything
had changed for them both. He sat on the bench and fought back tears. He
wanted to go home and get on his dirt bike and just go riding as fast and
furiously as he could. When Sammy, Tommy and the other two nymphs filed
past to go swim, he barely responded to their "C'ya laters." He reached up
and put both feet against a locker and dropped his head onto his knees. He
felt so empty and lonely. Sammy had Tommy and Ribs. Mike had Shawna. Tom
was lost forever and although there were a couple guys like Nick he could
mess around with, there was no one he could hope to love. Tears dripped
slowly down his cheeks and fell to the rough, locker room carpet.

	"You okay?" A semi-familiar voice startled him and he looked up
through his tears to see Devon standing there naked with his towel draped
over his neck. "You hurt or something?"

	Embarrassed, Scott wiped at his eyes and said, "No, I'm fine. I
just ... never mind, I'm fine. Thanks."

	A shorter, but very athletically fit, guy called to Devon from the
shower area. "You coming or not?"

	"Be right there. Go on in," Devon called back. Then turning his
attention back to Scott asked, "You're that Sammy kid's brother, aren't
you?" Scott nodded. "You want to join my friend and me in the steam room
while you wait for them? It might help you take your mind off whatever's
bothering you." Except for the foreskin being intact and the hair color, it
was amazing how much Devon looked like Tom.

       His dick was about as small and so were his balls. He had the same
amount of hair but the most striking resemblance was in his smooth powerful
body. His long legs and strong thighs matched Tom's. His firm ass and
defined abs surrounding his innie belly button with just a small trail of
hair leading down to his pubes were just the same. He even smiled a bit
like him. He didn't seem as creepy today as when he'd been flirting with
the little boys yesterday. "I guess," Scott heard himself say.

	Scott pulled out his phone and sent a text to his mom that he was
gonna sit in the steam room while he waited for free swim to start. He
picked an open locker and Devon watched him undress. He took his towel and
wrapped it around his waist to walk over to the shower area. They both hung
the towels on hooks and walked naked into the steam room. The other athlete
looked up as they walked in and when he saw me, he quickly pulled his legs
up and wrapped his arms around them. It was too late, I'd seen his full on
boner before he could hide it. He scowled at Devon. Devon sat next to him
and I sat across. The steam was in a down cycle and we could all easily see
each other. The other guy shot Devon a "wtf" look.

	"Hey Sammy's brother, what's your name again?" called Devon over to
Scott.

	"I'm Scott."

	"So Scott, umm my friend, Jeff and I were planning on some
'special' fun in here. Would it bother you if we do it, or would you want
to join in with us maybe? It might help you get over whatever's making you
so sad."

	Scott did and he didn't. He felt the warm tile pressing on his
naked ass cheeks. He felt the heat of the steam creating sweat beads all
over his body. He longed suddenly to touch and be touched. He longed to
hold Tom and be held again in the afterglow of lovemaking with him. Slowly,
he stood without speaking and moved across the room to sit next to
Devon. Their legs touched. Scott's dick expanded rapidly as Tom ... no, not
Tom ... Devon grasped it. Scott began rubbing Devon's strong back as Devon
slowly stroked Scott's large dick. Scott closed his eyes and imagined it
was Tom. The other guy was bent over Devon's middle and sucking his dick
for him. Scott started losing himself in the fantasy of being with Tom
again. He reached over and stroked Devon's pecs and flicked his hard
nipples while he was getting stroked by Tom's ... Devon's large strong
hand. He gripped it firmly and moved in a steady, erotic motion.

	After a few minutes, Devon stiffened and muttered, "Oh fuck." He
stopped stroking and squeezed Scott's dick hard in his fist and made little
grunts through his clenched teeth as he unloaded himself into his
teammate's mouth. Then it was over for him and he pulled his friend's head
off, he leaned back against the hot tile and panted.

       The steam had built up and it was impossible to see across the room
now. The heat was filling Scott's lungs and he desperately wanted a sexual
release. The spell of the fantasy about Tom was broken and it was just
about sex again. Scott reached down and took Devon's hand in his and
started the jacking motion up again. Devon did it for a few more strokes
then let go. "I have to suck his now," Devon said unemotionally. He turned
away from Scott and was dragged onto his teammate's throbbing pole by a
pair of eager hands.

       Scott stood and walked to the door. He shoved it open with his foot
and strode out into the open shower area. He didn't care he was still fully
boned and two college boys glanced at him and smirked, then they went back
to washing themselves. Scott turned on a shower, adjusted it to cold, and
stepped in. He pounded his fist against the tile wall and got teary
eyed. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he said softly. He shut off the shower, walked
naked and wet to the locker, and put his blue and yellow board shorts on.

       He sat on the bench and stared at the clock waiting for it to strike
11:30, so he could go in and swim. Free swim started half an hour earlier
on Fridays. When he entered, Scott saw Mike in the shallow end behind Tommy
showing him how to move his arms correctly for the butterfly stroke. Tommy
was bent over with his trunk in the water and Mike was standing behind him
reaching over his back and rotating his arms. If you didn't know it was
innocent, it looked naughty. Sammy and the other boys were practicing their
butterfly in the deep end and doing pretty well. Sammy was by far the
fastest. Scott put his goggles on and dove gracefully into the deep end. He
started swimming laps. He swam and swam and swam. The physical exertion
helped push the depression out of his mind. He liked how he felt by
exercising. He knew it would help him ride his dirt bike better and even
play the trumpet better by being in shape and expanding his lung
capacity. On the odd stroke when he turned his head to take a breath, he
peeked to see if Mike was still helping Tommy with the butterfly stroke.

       After several laps, He saw they were no longer there and he pulled
up at the shallow end to rest. Scott pulled his goggles onto his forehead
and scanned the water for Mike. He was just giving some final tips to his
students and then turned and swam toward the deep end stairs. Scott climbed
out and walked over along the edge to meet him. Scott extended a hand to
help Mike out of the water as he pulled himself up by the small
railing. Mike looked at the hand for a second then took hold of it. "Wanna
sit in the spa for a minute and talk?" Scott asked hopeful.

       Mike hesitated and then said, "Okay for a few. I gotta go soon."

       "Great."

       They stepped into the hot bubbling water and moved across to the
ledge and sat down, each taking one side of the corner so that Mike's left
leg rested against Scott's right one underneath the water. Awkward silence
hung for several minutes. Finally, Scott decided to act like nothing had
happened and said, "You did a good job teaching those kids the
butterfly. Even Tommy's doing it pretty good now."

       "Thanks." More awkward silence followed his one word response.

       "Guess what? Mr. Thomas wants me to audition for the Boise Youth
Philharmonic Orchestra today. I'll have practices with them every Thursday
night if I get accepted."

       "Oh, man that sucks. Sorry dude."

       "What? Why are you sorry?"

       "Well, that you have to waste your time every Thursday with all
those orchestra geeks just to please your band teacher. You sure you wanna
go back to band?"

       "It doesn't suck. I want to play in it. It's a big honor just to get
an audition."

       "Oh. Oh well, cool then I guess." Mike said. Feeling foolish and
awkward, he stood up and said well, I gotta go now." He grabbed the railing
and stepped out of the hot tub and Scott's life forever without even
looking back at his old friend. Sammy watched his Speedo clad butt cross
the pool deck and disappear into the shower room door. When the door
closed, Scott slipped off the ledge and submerged himself in the boiling
hot water of the spa.

       "One big gulp," he thought. "That's all it would take, is one big
gulp and it would all just be over." He stayed under until his lungs were
burning and demanding air. "What If he did quit band again? Could it be the
way it was before?" He emerged, took a deep, gasping breath and pushed his
long brunette hair back off his forehead. He aimed his fist at the shower
room door and defiantly flipped the bird at it. "Fuck you," Scott said
resolutely. He retrieved his goggles from the side of the spa and put them
on again as he walked back to the main pool. He put the goggles in place
over his eyes and dove into the shockingly cool water of the lap pool and
swam with a vengeance from end to end until his muscles burned and he was
forced to stop and rest.

       Scott and Sammy's mom called down to them from above in the
spectator area that they had to go in order to be on time to the high
school. Scott pulled Sammy reluctantly from the pool, leaving his swim
classmates and friends. Scott listened to Sammy's step by step account of
how to do the butterfly stroke properly, and Scott praised Sammy for being
the best one of the group. His mind was scarcely focused on Sammy's chatter
though. They showered quickly and dried and dressed. As they were leaving,
Devon saw them and stepped in front of them wearing a yellow Speedo. "Hey
guys. Leaving early aren't you?"

       "Yeah, I have an appointment," Scott explained sullenly.

       "Sorry about earlier, man. I owed him, you know? He gets all pissy
if he doesn't get his fix."

       "Yeah, sure. No problem." Scott said, pushing Sammy to the side to
go around Devon.

       "See you around cutie," Devon said mussing Sammy's hair as he passed
by. Scott glowered at him and Devon stepped aside then headed for the door
to the pool deck.

       Scott sat in the back seat, which was weird, and was quiet and
moody. Sammy and his mom tried to engage him in conversation, but he just
stared out the window and gave minimal answers. Soon they gave up and
chatted with each other ignoring him completely. That was fine with Scott.

       Later, as they pulled into the driveway of the high school, Scott's
mood lightened. He thought about the good times he had there. He thought
about going back to band and performing and improving his talent. He
thought about the chance to maybe find some new friends, maybe even some
band guys who would understand him better. He even had a crazy idea to try
and organize a dirt bike club. He wondered if the school would allow such a
thing. They had a snow sports club, though, so maybe.

       As Scott opened the door to get out, his mom put her hand on Scott's
arm. They made eye contact and she said with deep understanding and
sincerity. "I'm sorry about Mike, Scott. Remember that in life, when one
door closes, often, another one opens up." Without speaking, Scott crawled
back in the car and put his arms around his mom and hugged her. He ran
through the metal gate, across the quad and pulled open the heavy, glass
door to the music building. He paused there for a brief moment then stepped
inside.