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.