DISCLAIMER
All the usual disclaimers and warnings apply. This material is copyrighted by me and is not to be published elsewhere without my written permission. This story, purely fictional, involves love and physical intimacy between two teenaged boys. If it is illegal for you to read material like this or it is objectionable to you, please do not continue reading beyond this point. If you can agree to the above, I welcome your attention to the story and would be glad to receive your comments at stoicactor@hotmail.com. Thank you.
Chase Naked Chapter 1
Chase always seemed to linger, never long, just a moment before he walked away. Sometimes I was sure that he glanced at me and smiled, like he was waiting for me. But I knew that was wishful thinking. So I adored him from safe distances.
We never said much or hung out together. I had been in awe of him since we were little boys. He was always beautiful in my eyes. I loved that he was already athletic by at least the fourth grade. He was fast, coordinated and everything the rest of us wanted to be. In class he was confident and smart. And he was kind.
By the tenth grade, Chase had blossomed into a young man so superior in beauty and aptitude for anything he wanted to take on that I fell back to an even safer distance from him. I couldn't compare by any measure.
Chase was stocky enough to have what I would call a lusty appearance, muscled but not to the point of distraction. His hair was black and thick, his eyebrows lush and his eyelashes long over his dark eyes. He had a strong jaw line and lips that were as full as any girl's lips. And it was all so natural looking, never contrived. He didn't look like a gym rat, just a boy blessed with a body that lots of people commented on, a routine occurrence that seemed to embarrass him. I saw that happen several times.
He was immensely popular, mostly because he was without interest in cliques or social class or any other distinctions that we kids used to keep some people at a distance. Students liked him; teachers liked him. He was a leader. Chase was never unkind to me, never seemed to deliberately avoid me. I was the one who shied away, who kept him at bay, all the while telling myself that it was Chase who maintained the barricade.
At night, when the house was quiet and I lay in my bed naked and aroused, Chase came to me in lush fantasies that made ordinary masturbation an erotic extravaganza. Chase was my exclusive playmate in those daily escapes. I jacked off to no one else.
Sometimes we cuddled, his taut body pressing urgently against me. Other times he sprawled alone on his bed, legs spread, one hand cupping his big balls, the other slowly bringing his large penis to full erection. I heard his breath quicken, watched his abs be sucked in as the warm waves of libido flared out from his groin. At those times, I was completely out of the scene focused on his pleasure as unnoticed as a true voyeur. I devoured the sight as Chase reached the peak of excitement and long white ropes of semen burst into a high trajectory over his abdomen and spattered against his chin and neck. At that moment my own less copious orgasm would occur, leaving warm thick puddles around my navel. I loved Chase.
Hoping that someday I would be attractive to him--never seeming to realize that he surely was as straight as most boys were--I would stand at least once a day in front of a full-length mirror and look for hopeful signs in my genitals and my skinny, five-foot-five body. I kept a close watch on my penis and on the hair sprouting above it. Change was glacial.
On my fifteenth birthday, my penis reached a paltry 5 inches. My deep auburn pubic hair was okay but not great. It seemed to me that my balls were hanging lower than they had a few months before and maybe were a little bit larger.
If hardness could only be the main thing that would appeal to another boy, I would have been ahead of the game. I got so hard most days that it throbbed and sometimes was sore after I had what I dubbed a double-header. Oh, those were the best days, times when Chase wouldn't leave me alone. Even after that sweet, salty fluid was losing its viscosity and running down my sides, my penis would still be hard. Soon, I would be at it again and force another burst of semen and ecstasy. Double-header days were mostly on Tuesdays and Fridays, when my mother worked later at the Water Department.
About midway in the soccer season, the coach got me out of English class one day and said he had a request. I didn't even know him and couldn't imagine what he wanted.
"Bryan," Coach Brown said, "I need a student manager for the soccer team, and the school counselor recommends you. The best player on the team also gave me your name. You know Chase, don't you?"
After I realized how close this would put me to Chase, I said yes and thanked the coach. I reported for that very afternoon and quickly discovered that I had taken on a big job. The manager was to hand out equipment, then collect, log in and stow all of it after practice. My favorite duty was to issue towels for the players and, as the guys were finishing with their showers, collect the wet towels and put them in a laundry barrel.
The first day was a blur. I didn't think I could ever keep up. Chase waved at me from across the room and said he was glad to see me become the manager. He didn't linger, merely said it and pushed on into the locker area.
By the time I got around to collecting the used towels, the echo of boys in the showers had stopped and everyone was gone but me. I stopped in front of the locker with C. Bowers on the front. On the bench in front of it was a soaked towel, and I trembled slightly as I picked it up and held it close to my face for a moment daring to see what it smelled like. I was certain I could smell where he had dried his penis and balls on the towel. An absurd thought, I know.
Within a week, I was getting proficient at my new job and usually was out collecting towels while some boys were still showering. I had to be careful not to be caught looking, but my years of practice checking out bulges made me pretty good at not being noticed.
Then came the day when I rounded the corner on Chase's row of lockers and there he stood fully naked, towel tossed over his left shoulder, and just turning toward the showers. What happened next still is a gap in my memory. I managed to trip over the end of the bench and fall flat on my face in front of Chase, bloodying my nose. I do remember what happened next. As tenderly as a mother would have done it, Chase knelt beside me, rolled me over and helped me up, Seeing my bleeding nose, he daubed it with the towel.
"Here," he said softly, "use this, I'll get another one." I was almost in shock as he started walking toward the showers naked. Suddenly he turned back to me and said with obvious concern, "You gonna be okay?"
"Yuh," I said through the congestion of blood, unable to avoid a quick glance at his beautiful penis hanging straight down from a dense black bush.
At home later, I went to my bathroom, studied my nose in the mirror, then slipped into my shower. The image of Chase when he turned to ask if I was okay overwhelmed me. I masturbated furiously, wanting him more then than ever before in all the years I had known him. As my penis softened after my wet, intense orgasm, I slumped to the floor and cried. Sitting there with the hot water beating down on me, I suddenly recalled that as he was lightly moving the towel over my face mopping up the blood, Chase had rested his hand on my arm and squeezed it ever so slightly.
In the hallway the next day, he paused long enough to ask if I was all right, then hurried away when I nodded.
Before the soccer season ended, I had seen Chase several more times on his way to or coming back from the showers, and he was always naked. It was breathtaking. The oddest thing about these little encounters was that Chase always smiled warmly, spoke to me and never once seemed ill at ease standing facing me totally nude. Besides saying hello, he always engaged me for a moment with some follow-up comment or question.
His body was as nearly perfect as I could ever hope for. His penis--always soft, of course--was fleshy and easily five inches long and nestled neatly into the folds of his ball sac, which hung low and slack. His balls were large. His forest of dark pubic hair was dense, curly and stood out from his body more than any other I had seen. His legs were hairy, and he had a notable trail up to his navel. Above his flat abs, the skin was smooth and tight. Even his well-toned pecs had no trace of hair, at least from what I could tell by my stolen glances.
The last day of the season, I was lucky enough to get by just as he was drying off. I walked up behind him and got quick look at his perfect butt, slender and muscular with just the right curve.
"Hi, Chase," I said, prompting him to turn around with that broad smile.
"Hey, Bryan. You glad the season's over?"
"Not really," I said. "I'm gonna miss it."
Chase turned to reach for his briefs. Looking back over his shoulder, he left me with what could have been merely the polite thing to say or a genuine invitation. "Call me sometime. We could hang out."
"Sure, man, cool. I'll call."
Then he surprised me. He pulled on the briefs, reached into his locker and picked up a small white card that was blank except for a carefully lettered number.
"That's my cell," he said, "you can call me anytime--but better late at night."
He smiled.
I mumbled a grateful thanks and started away, hands trembling slightly.
Chase interrupted my departure with a loud "hey."
I turned back, kind of stunned.
"Um, Bryan," he said in a lower voice, "you really can call anytime. Like I stay up till after 11 every night. I read in bed or watch movies."
He stepped up closer.
"You won't mind talking to me in bed, will you?"
"Nah, that's cool."
"So then you're going to call, right?"
I could only nod, mumble a yes and be on my way clutching the simple white card with a number that I already had memorized.
That night after my mother was asleep, I went downstairs quietly and sat for long minutes beside the phone in the kitchen. When I got up my nerve, I lifted the receiver and slowly punched in the numbers. Chase answered after only one ring.
"Hello."
"Chase? Uh, it's Bryan."
"Hey, man, this is awesome. I didn't know if you would really do it."
We spoke for a while in generalities about school, soccer and parents. Then he abruptly blurted out:
"Bryan, I'm glad we've gotten to be friends. I thought we never would."
Not knowing how to handle that, I just said, "yeah. It's nice."
"Are you in bed, Chase?"
"Yeah, that okay? I mean, does it feel funny?"
"Why would it feel funny?"
"You know, we're really just getting to know each other, and I am in bed with not much on."
I got a little bold and reminded him that I had seen him with nothing on before.
He paused, then laughed softly.
"Yeah, you have, haven't you, several times. So I guess what I am wearing now is more than when you saw me in the locker room last time."
"Sure, I guess, but I don't know what you're wearing now."
"A tee shirt."
I paused before asking him if there was more.
"Nope, just a tee."
My penis was completely hard by now, and I had to rearrange it in my jeans.
"You there?"
"Oh, yeah, Chase, sorry."
"Did I embarrass you?"
"No, not at all. It's, it's kinda cool that you told me. Um, nothing but the tee?"
"I've never told anyone that before, Bryan. I gotta trust you to keep it to yourself."
"Chase, I would never tell anyone. I like that you told me."
I told him I had never slept without at least briefs and a tee and wondered how it felt.
"Bryan, it's awesome. I don't know the best way to explain it. If I really told you, I don't know if you would be embarrassed or might think I am a sicko."
"You can tell me anything, Chase."
Long pause.
"Well, the sheets feel good against my dick, especially when I get hard. But I don't stay hard too long, if you know what I mean."
I laughed.
"That's so awesome. I gotta try it."
"Why don't you try it tonight?"
I was staggered by his question and fumbled for a response.
"I'm not in my room. But I can go up in minute and take everything but my tee off. I want to."
Chase gave a soft moan and chuckled.
"Hot, Bryan! Will you tell me tomorrow what it felt like?"
"Sure!"
"And will you tell me what you did before you went to sleep?"
"You really want to know?"
"Yes!"
"Okay, but I better go now. I think my mom is coming downstairs. Bye, Chase."
"Bye, Bryan."
Hope you enjoyed this. Feel free to send any kind of comments to me at stoicactor@hotmail.com. Thanks!