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Invitation To The Locker Room
I sat in class gazing out the window one minute, and the next minute snapping my attention back to which class I was in. English. Yeah, it was English class, but I didn’t have a clue what Miss Adler was talking about;
conjugating verbs or something about dangling participles; who the fuck knew, or even cared. The only conjugating I knew about was something called conjugal visits in a prison where a guy was allowed to be alone with his wife for a monthly fuck or something. And the only dangling participle or dangling anything that I was interested in was between Doug Bishop’s legs.
I still didn’t know for sure how it happened, that I was alone in the locker room the day before with the big stud after gym class. He was a senior, I was a sophomore and senior jocks didn’t even have to take gym class, but Doug never passed up an opportunity to participate in physical activities. I had never been alone with Doug Bishop in my life, and suddenly there I was, sitting on the bench, lacing up my sneakers, surrounded by the dimness and eerie quiet and the wonderful aroma of the locker room, just me and him. I had rushed through my shower, as I always did; I wanted to get in and out and stay out of the way of the boisterous jocks. I was dressed, except for what I was doing, tying my sneakers, but Doug hadn’t even gone back to the showers yet. He was still in his jockstrap, having taken up the time to laugh and talk and joke around with the other jocks till they had all gone and it was just him and me.
“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have an extra towel, would you?” he asked.
I swear, I glanced around to see who he was talking to. I knew we were the only ones there but I couldn’t believe he was talking to me, a lowly sophomore. I turned back to see him looking at me, waiting for an answer.
“Oh…yeah, I’ve got an extra,” I said, as I jumped up to get the towel out of my locker. I handed it to him, rolled up, but he, or I, or both of us, dropped it. I sat back on the bench to pick it up and when I rose up, he
was standing there with his hand out to take it. Standing right in front of me, only a little to the side. Standing close. So close I could feel his body heat and smell his manly, sweaty musk. I barely had the strength to raise my arm to hand it to him and he had to reach down to take it. Then there was a second or two of just nothing, when he was standing there and I sat face to face with his bulging jockstrap. I was suddenly embarrassed that I was looking at it and quickly lifted my head, only to see Doug smiling down at me with that curious, mischievous, lop-sided grin of his.
“You interested in some of that, dude?” he asked in his curious, mischievous tone. He sounded surprised, and maybe half joking, I wasn’t sure.
I blinked, shocked, and was suddenly frightened. He had seen through me that easily? Oh, Godd, I was dead meat. He would tell the whole school and I would be ruined forever. He clasped his hand over the bulge and gave it a gentle squeeze and clenched his butt muscles to thrust it into his palm.
“It’s all yours if you want it…for the use of your towel…meet me back down here after next class.”
“B-but won’t there b-be others here?” I stammered.
“No. Hell, not even the coach is down here; he’s got a class. It’s when I usually work out, when nobody’s around to bother me,” he said. “You don’t have to. I mean, I’m not gonna blab it all over school, whether you show or not. Just thought I would offer, since it looked like you were interested.”
I swallowed hard and he must have heard me because he chuckled softly.
“Makes your mouth water, does it, just thinking about it,” he said teasingly.
“I, uh…” I swallowed hard again to get rid of the lump in my throat that was preventing me from speaking. “I’ll try to be here,” I said. With that, I rushed out.
“I’ll close up your locker for you,” he called after me.
I was so excited I’d forgotten to shut my locker. I should go back. If he didn’t close it…if he decided to snoop around in it first, he would surely find his jockstrap that I’d lifted weeks before. It even had his initials in the waistband so he would know it was his, and he would know I’d taken it. But I fled the locker room, too frightened to go back. What difference did it make anyway. He knew about me, he had offered himself to
me, I hardly though he would get mad over a missing jockstrap.
I looked at my watch for the hundredth time, checking the second hand to make sure it was still running, because the minute hand didn’t seem to be moving. Somebody was up front doing an oral presentation, something we were all supposed to be prepared to do. I wasn’t. The only oral presentation on my mind was the one I was going to perform on Doug Bishop in a few short minutes. I prayed I wouldn’t be called on; hopefully, there wouldn’t be time for another one. If I was, I guessed I could stand up and tell the entire class how I was going to go down to the locker room after this class was over and do an oral on Doug Bishop’s cock. I wondered what kind of grade I would get for that.
Doug Bishop’s cock! I shivered just thinking about it. I had never seen him hard, but Godd, he was a horse, just swinging around. And now I was going to find out just how big he really was. I had imagined many times, using myself as a benchmark guide. If I hung four inches and doubled in size when I was hard, Doug hung a good six inches, did that mean he was going to present me with a foot long hardon? Fuck, I hoped so! Although I didn’t know what I would do with it. If the head was in proportion to the rest of it, hell, I probably couldn’t even get my mouth around it. But I knew that would not deter me from meeting up with him, and trying, not for one minute. God, I was so excited I couldn’t sit still.
My prayers were answered in that I wasn’t called on. Missy Niles droned on so long that she took up enough of the rest of the period that there wasn’t time for anybody else to be called on. So the last few minutes were used up with a stupid discussion about her presentation, whatever the hell it was about. I didn’t have a clue, and I nearly got shot down when Miss Adler started to ask me what I thought of Missy’s presentation. But the bell rang in the middle of her speaking and I pretended I didn’t hear her. Books were slammed shut, chairs scraped across the floor and there was the buzz of kids talking and heading to their next class.
I didn’t go to my locker, or to study hall, where I was supposed to spend the next period. I headed for the rest room. I closeted myself in one of the stalls for a couple of minutes, then exited and left the rest room and headed down to the gym and the locker room. I knew I would probably be in trouble for being absent from study hall–probably get a detention–but I would worry about that. The only thing that mattered to me right then was waiting on me down in the locker room.
I gotta do this right, I told myself as I walked down the hall toward the stairs leading down to the gym. If I don’t, he’s going to laugh at me, and maybe not even let me do it, and worse, probably tell all his buddies about me. I wasn’t all that experienced at sucking cock. In fact, nobody who knew me, knew I was gay. My only experience was the half dozen or so encounters I’d had at an old roadside rest park out on the county road leading to the gravel pit. It wasn’t used much, so it wasn’t kept up, but with enough patience, I’d managed to coax some pretty nice cocks through the hole in the wall that separated the urinals from the toilette. I knew some of them were workers from the gravel pit. It’s where I’d learned about man-to-man sex; where I’d learned to suck cock.
I glanced at my watch as I bounded down the stairs. The bell was about to ring; I needed to be out of sight before it did. I slipped inside the locker room just as it sounded and closed the door behind me. I wondered if
I should slide the bolt and lock it. No, that would only raise questions if somebody tried to get in, and how would I explain being locked inside the locker room with Doug Bishop. I didn’t figure Doug would want to have
to explain that either. The locker room was quiet except for a soft, steady drip of a leaky shower head way in back. I walked down the ramp, my heart pounding in my chest. Fuck, let me do this right, I thought again; let me satisfy him so he’ll want more. In a moment of panic, I thought of him going off. I’d never taken a load in my mouth before. What if made me do that? What if he wanted me to swallow? Fuck, I didn’t know if I could do that. But I knew I would if that’s what he wanted.
The place was dark, except for the naked bulb in the equipment cage, and further in, the dull light that shone through the glazed glass windows. I jumped when I heard Doug’s voice.
“Hey, you made it,” he greeted me.
He was standing in the dim shadows, wearing his workout clothes; a pair of old gym shorts that he’d outgrown in about the eight grade, and an old ragged T-shirt that he’d cut the arms off of and chopped off at the bottom, nearly up to his pecs.
“Yeah. I didn’t lock the door,” I said.
“Good. Don’t want to have to explain that.”
“What if somebody does come in?” I asked.
“We’re down here working out,” he said.
I laughed. “Yeah, like everybody knows I work out all the time,” I scoffed.
“So, I talked you into starting,” he said.
I walked toward him, stepped over a bench to get to him. He peeled the T-shirt off over his head and hung it over the top of his opened locker door.
“You ever done this before?” he asked, standing with his arms at his sides, as if he were waiting on me.
“No,” I lied. “So I don’t know how good I’m gonna be at it.”
“Fuck, no kidding!” he exclaimed, sounding happy about my virginity. “So I’m gonna get your cherry, in a way. You’re gonna get mine, too. I neverhad a blow job before either.”
“No kidding! Good,” I said.
“Oh, you like the idea of getting my cherry,” he said with a chuckle.
“I’m glad we’re going to be experiencing it together; especially glad my first time is with you,” I said. “I’ll try to make it good for you.”
“Oh? And what makes that so special, that your first time is with me?” he asked.
I guffawed with mild disbelief. Didn’t he know, for Christ-sakes, what a stud he was? That every girl in school wanted to be his girlfriend; that there were probably a lot more guys than just me who would drop to their knees and service him at the nod of his handsome head.
“In a word…you’re a stud, that’s why,” I said.
“Okay. If you say so.”
“Everybody says so,” I said. “Fuck, man, don’t you ever look in the mirror?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but I guess I’m used to seeing what I see,” he replied.
“I could never get used to it, living inside a body like yours,” I said.
“You could if you had a body like mine,” he said.
“If only,” I said.
“Well, if you don’t have one of your own, will mine do?” he asked with that damned mischievous, handsome, lop-sided grin.
“Definitely,” I said. “I’m just surprised you’ve never had a blow-job before. I figured every girl you took out somehow ended up down between your lets, giving you head.”
He laughed. “Don’t I fuckin’ wish.” He shifted his weight sexily from one foot to the other and flung his arms out in a helpless or inviting gesture. “Well, go ahead if you still want to, we’re wasting valuable time,” he said.
“Yes, I still want to,” I said as I stepped closer, right in front of him. I boldly clasped my hand over the front of his workout shorts and discovered that he wore no jock under them. He was hanging loose and heavy. Very heavy. I squeezed and mauled his shorts with one hand while I tugged them down off his hips with the other. When I had them pulled down, with only my handful of his manhood holding them up, I let go and pulled them the rest of the way down. They fell to his feet and he stepped out of them.
“What if somebody comes in,” I said huskily.
“You keep worrying about that. We’re in the locker room. If somebody comes in I’ll grab a towel and head for the shower,” he said.
Yeah, that was smart enough thinking; why didn’t I think of it? I sat on the end of the bench in front of him with my right hand around the back of his thigh and my other hand clasped around his butt. It was like holding onto warm rock. I was so nervous I couldn’t move. Finally I felt his hand gently on top of my head. He was anxious. So was I, but I wanted to savor the moment, just looking at him openly, admiring his magnificent cock. He guided me gently and I leaned in and nuzzled my face in his crotch, my nose smashed in his hair beside the root of his cock. He smelled good. I told him so.
“Fuck, you smell good,” I said.
“You gotta be kidding. I’m all sweaty.”
“I like it,” I said.
“Why don’t you see how I taste,” he said.
“All right.” I kissed my way down the length of his cock, which was hardening now, then cocked my head and scooped the head up with my tongue and sucked it into my mouth.
“Aaawwwnnnhhhhhh!” he moaned softly, laying his other hand on my shoulder. “Shit, your mouth is so hot. Fuuckkk! You’ve got a nice tongue, too!”
I smiled around his cock and he shoved it in farther, the head smashed against my throat. I dry swallowed and it slipped right in. I had learned that it was easier to deep-throat if you took the guy’s cock before he got
real hard. I gulped several times, working my muscles around his swollen meat, and my throat pulled him right in. I was surprised how easily I took him. I had a feeling he was going to be the biggest I’d ever had.
“Ohhhh, Fuck! You swallowed the fucker!” he moaned. He clasped his hands around my head and smashed his loins hard against my face and twisted his hips around. He got a little rough and wild but he had no idea about deep throating. I choked but I controlled it. He started fucking my mouth, using my throat like a pussy. I kept hold of his thighs, pulling him in to me with each trust.
“Shit, man, I had no fuckin’ idea a blow-job could feel this good.”
Drool that he was working up in my throat ran down my chin and dripped onto the floor. I wondered how long he would last. Time wasn’t on our side, and neither were the conditions. I had my back to the ramp leading into the locker room and I didn’t think Doug, in his present state, would notice if anyone came in.
“You didn’t say, but I wanta cum in your mouth,” he growled as he fucked my throat unmercifully.
I still didn’t say. I couldn’t answer him one way or another, but he didn’t need an answer because he wasn’t asking if he could cum in my mouth. He was going to cum in my mouth. I didn’t care. I wanted him to; I wanted to taste him. But the way he was going at me, he would probably cum in my throat and I wouldn’t get a taste of him. I moved my hands around to the front of his thighs, thinking I might urge him to ease up and pull back but he didn’t notice, and I didn’t push him away. I was his, and he could use me any way he wanted. I wished we were alone, in a safer place, like in my room, or in the back seat of my car, parked out in the country road or in a field.
Suddenly, with a loud grunt he gave me my wish. He pulled back, extracting his thick cock from my throat and I held the head of his cock in my mouth. I lathered it with my tongue.
“I’m cummin’…fuck, I’m cummin’, dude,” he groaned.
I tightened my grip around his thighs. I was so excited I pulled myself off the bench and went to my knees, hugging his thighs tightly against me. I was suddenly his slave. The anticipation soared, and a few seconds later my mouth was being shot full of thick, warm boy juice. It shot out in long ropes, slithering all around my mouth to settle over my tongue. I drew my tongue up and he shot against the underside of it, fast filling the cavity of my mouth; my tongue was wallowing in his semen. It was a heady moment.
I felt light headed. I couldn’t believe this was happening, that I was sucking Doug Bishop’s cock and it was spewing his man-seed into my mouth in great torrents.
His legs trembled against me and his breath came in ragged gasps. I glanced upward and his nostrils were flared and there was sweat on hisforehead on his pecs. I had to swallow. I couldn’t contain all that he
had given me.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned softly as I began gulping it down. “Oh, fuck, you’re swallowing!”
His legs threatened to give out and he stumbled backwards to lean against the lockers. His cock pulled out of my mouth with a loud suction noise and swung angrily, glistening with cum and spit. I swiped my hand across my chin to wipe off the drool and probably some cum. I swallowed again, and again, till I was washing my mouth with spit, but the taste of him lingered in my throat.
“Geezusss!” he moaned, laughing. “What the fuck just happened! I never had anything like that in my whole life! Godd, you are good!”
“Thanks, I tried,” I said weakly. I realized I was shaking too, from the sheer excitement of the moment.
Then he did the strangest thing. He came over to me and pulled me to my feet and hugged me. He didn’t say anything, he just hugged me, lifting me off the floor. He was squeezing the air out of me but I didn’t
complain. Then he set me down.
“We’d better shower,” he said.
He went to his locker to get the clean towel I’d given him. “Fuck, if I wasn’t straight, I think I could be in love,” he said, laughing. “Mann, that was incredible.” Then he turned and looked at me. “Can we do that
“Anytime. That and a lot more if you want,” I said.
“There’s more?” he asked, with a curious grin as we headed back to the showers.
“Yeah, you’re still partially a virgin; you haven’t experienced it all,” I told him.
“What else?” he asked.
“This isn’t the time or the place,” I said. “We were lucky as it was.”
“Just tell me what else.”
“Well, I only had a chance to work on the front,” I told him.
“Yeah? That’s where the goodies are.”
“There are goodies in back, too,” I said. “Bend over and I’ll give you a sample.”
He was turning on his shower. He paused and looked around at me. “I don’t know if I should trust you.”
“You trusted me with your cock.”
“But my ass…what’re you gonna do?”
“Bend over, I’ll show you. Shit, look at you, with those muscles, you can stop me from doing anything you don’t want me to do.”
He slowly turned. “Okay, but don’t try anything funny.”
I knelt down behind him and gave his ass crack several licks, just enough to get him primed.
“Ohhh…oohhhh, fuck!” he cried out.
I stood up, smiling.
“Shit! You’re full of surprises. Is there anything else?”
“I know you fuck girls, but did you ever think what it’d be like to fuck a guy?”
He stared at me. No, he gaped. I don’t think the thought ever entered his mind.
“No,” he said simply, with the dumbest look on his face. “Are you…oh, fuck, are you saying I could fuck you…your ass? Ohh, Mann, are you gonna give me a sample of that?”
“No. No samples. Another time.”
“When?” he asked excitedly “When are we going to do all of this?”
“When we have more time and the right place.”
“Where’s the right place? Fuck, I’d do it in the middle of the football field, at halftime.”
I laughed as I adjusted my shower, the one next to him. “How about in your bed, or mine, or in the back seat of your car?”
“Any fuckin’ place you want, any time you say,” he said. He reached over and took my arm and pulled me under his shower. “I want just a little sample,” he said hoarsely as he turned me around. He pressed his body
against me and rubbed his cock against my butt. It was still rubbery hard. I closed my eyes to relish the feel of his warm, hard muscles writhing against me. I was shocked when he reached around and took hold of
my cock. If he didn’t stop…
“Is this a private party?”
I was jolted back to reality by the voice that seemed to boom across the shower room.
“Coach!” Doug blurted as he shoved me away.
I stumbled under my own shower and turned to face the wall in a futile attempt to hide my hardon. I could see out of the corner of my eye, the man stood at the doorway, his hands on his hips.
“Sorry, Coach,” Doug muttered as he began soaping himself up.
We waited. Coach didn’t move and he didn’t say anything. He just stood there looking at us. I wondered if Doug would be kicked off the team. I wondered if Coach would report us. Then he spoke.
“I’ll lock the door for you,” he said, and turned and walked away.
“Fuck!” Doug swore angrily. “Fuckin’ stupid fuck!”
“I wonder what he’ll do,” I said.
“He’s gonna think I’m a fag. I’ll probably get kicked off the team,” Doug said.
“None of this changes the way you play football,” I said.
We were both startled again at the sound of Coach’s voice. We had assumed that he’d left. But there he was, naked now, and walking into the showers.
If you liked the story–or if you didn’t–please let me hear from you; my email address is Peterbilt1228@live.com. Especially if you’ve had anything
like this happen to you, or anything close; I would like to hear about it. I get a lot of my ideas and inspiration from readers.