Horror in the Locker Room

Published on Jan 14, 2016

Gay

Horror in the Locker Room 2

Leaving the Locker room felt like a great transition, like the sun setting with a palpable boom. The night air cooled their heads and fevers, the locker room seemed like a steam room in comparison. The night seemed very quiet, the hub bub around the school after the game was absent and Rusty was in a rush to get to his car, Kevin very silently followed him. The silence between them was uncomfortable, different from the eery and innocent silence of the school grounds. They got to Rusty's car, following the beep of the alarm and flashing lights than anything else. The squelches of the seats as they settled in were very loud and after the process of dings and lights, Rusty started the engine and thankfully so did the radio.

Rusty noticed Kevin's leg was tapping very quickly, and he set off to drop him off. He thought about what he was going to do next and he realized the best thing for him would be to see his girlfriend. He needed her right now. So, he hurried, driving faster than he was usually comfortable with.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Rusty turned to Kevin and saw him slam his thigh after his vocal outburst.

"Dude, chill out, don't bust a knee."

"This is really fucked. What are we going do?" Kevin pleaded, he sounded so much like a frightened child. His usual cool demeanor was shattered and Rusty felt a lead weight hit his stomach at the brutal and deep question his friend had asked. He had no reply.

"Is this forever? I can't do this. I'm not a fucking fag."

"Hey, dude, no one said you were. It's not like that. Just forget about it, seriously. Get a girl, have a drink. I'm heading to Anna's house after this. So, just chill it'll be done with tomorrow."

"Forget about it? There's something in us, dude. There's something in our fucking bodies."

It was something he didn't want to hear. It was easy to forget that ooze and merely think about his experience jacking off and eating his jizz with his friends. It's not unheard of, teens experiment. It was easy to ignore the truly strange part of the experience and he was very grateful that he'd just about arrived to Kevin's home. He lived in a small house with his dad and two brothers in a section known for its more 'country' roots.

He slowed down in front of the house and shifted into park. He didn't have anything else to say, but he felt he had to say something else for the benefit of his friend.

"We'll be cool man. I've got your back and we'll meet up tomorrow. Okay?"

"I dunno, man. This is...," Kevin said before leaving off and looking pensive. He was quiet for a long moment where he seemed to become more composed.

"Okay, I'll hang tough. Tomorrow, dude. See ya tomorrow."

"Take it easy, Kev."

Rusty was strangely unfocused as he drove, driving a worm of worry of getting into an accident into his head, but more immediate was the debate warring in his head. As he drove on autopilot, he was thinking about going to his girlfriends house to feel her warmth and safety, but it was late and he didn't want to worry her family or send the wrong message. What he had done made him feel guilty, and it wasn't something he wanted to bring into his relationship. He felt a powerful nostalgia and overwhelming sense of loss as he realized that he had lost something and things wouldn't be the same between Anne and him. He slammed his fist into the wheel and suddenly came to his senses, focusing on the road and trim lavish houses haloed by strategic lamps.

He'd just go home, crash in bed. After he'd decided, the road and glimmering houses passed by quickly. Soon, he had arrived at his own big, expensive status symbol of a house and parked in the drive way. After he slammed his car door, he put in effort into being quiet. He smiled at the joke he had made. His keys jangled as the unlocked the door and his shoes scuffed the tiles after he entered his house. He didn't bother with the lights, but followed the memorized route to his room. Up the stairs, down the hall, turn and turn the knob. His room. He closed and locked the door behind him, already loosening his right shoe. He almost tripped, but managed to kick them off into a corner. Making his way in the dark, he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it in the direction of the closet. Reaching out into the darkness, he felt for the dim outline of his lamp and flicked it on. A bifurcated glow of lava red and oozing green illuminated his room in a mellow lighting. He stared at his lava lamp until he shook his head out of it without any notion of how long he'd been staring. It was the ooziness of the lamp. He flopped into his bed and stared at his ceiling as the colors of his lamp made a show. His body had relaxed. He undid his pants and lifted his hips as he slid them off. He had wanted to ball them up, but couldn't shake the habit of his usual care for order, so he folded them and them hocked them on top of his thrown shirt. He quickly hooked his socks off and paired them up, throwing them on top of his pants, he watched them bounce off and roll into the shadowed closet whose door was ajar.

He flopped his head into his pillow, looking up again at the swirling glows. Snaking his fingers through his hair that covered his ears now, he leaned over and snapped the switch wreathing his room in darkness again. It was quiet. He scissored his legs over his bed, getting well entwined and covered by the sheets, cool against his legs and abs now, but thin enough for the climate now. He cleared his mind and soon relaxed into sleep, sprawled out in his bed.

His dreams were like his lamp, a kaleidoscope of glowing colors meshing into new colors and oozing into separate colors to melting into another. Then an grey puddle formed in the center of his vision that darkened and grew into his swallowed everything. The glossy darkness undulated and lived, pulsing a strange awareness towards him, a hunger and a will to live. He stared out into the darkness intimidated by the vastness of it and afraid of it overpowering his will. But, as he stared for time unknown, he began to grow accustomed to it and understand it at a basic level. That it wanted only simple things, has he wanted simple things. To be fed, happy and live. It was simple and pleasant for being simple. The pulsing it sped and the rhythm burst into a churning sound. Rocking, pounding, knocking. He woke suddenly and felt an anxiety that cause him to look about his room looking for a great shadow and the source of the noises that still survived his awakening. Everything was as it should in his, but the noises he had heard seemed to be coming his sisters room. They were sounds of an early and obviously fervent fucking. As he realized this he glared at the ceiling shocked speechless, it was distasteful and completely out of character for his sister. But that thought passed quickly from his mind as he immediately after became aware of the raging morning wood he had that seemed to emanate heat like the morning sun. From the ceiling he gazed shocked and amazed at his dick, that had made an epic stand through the fly of his boxers.

As he continued to look at his dick, he clenched his dick muscle. It was like a call to action, a blazing trumpet that roused the troops. A bead of clear precum with a gooey white center pushed through the slit of his dick, it was a slow motion anatomy documentary as the pink slit opened up. The bead formed and at the tip and dripped down like a drop of honey. It hit his smooth belly and the tail of the precum stuck to his dick head, even as his dick galloped up and down. It felt silly and absurd, he smirked at his dick and flopped his head back into pillow. He ran his had through up his chest and through his hair. It was too much to wake up scared, then realize his sister was fucking then realized his dick could cut a diamond like never before. He rubbed his palm over his head and started kicking at his sheets, sending shocks and waves through his bouncing dick. His sister and her fiancee were throwing caution to the wind it seemed. They had audibly picked up the pace while he had been captivated by his dick juicing out precum. Allan had turned it up a notch and had also raised his voice so you could hear his wild moans, groans and heavy breathing. His sister chimed in after that point. It was too fucking weird to be hard while his sister was fucking, but the awkwardness wasn't swaying his dick, which was as stiff as a stake to his crotch. It was pointing up at him, almost. He levered himself up by kicking his legs out and got out of bed to get his ipod and noise canceling headphones. As he was up, he began to notice another noise in the house, similar to his sisters.

A shiver of 'what the fuck' shock passed through him as he realized his parents were at it too. He couldn't believe it. He looked at his dick and told it, 'come on?!' He even gave it a light punch. Dissuaded, he put his headphones on and jacked it into his ipod. The fucking was just barely there, and gone when he played his tunes. He lifted his legs and spread them eagle, letting them fall and bounce on the bed. He wriggled into the bed to get comfortable, and decided to gather up his pillows and sit up instead of laying on his back. He scooted into his pillows and looked at his dick. He could see the hard muscle and veins, it bounced to his heartbeat. He was impressed and smiled nodding at his dick. It looking fucking perfect. It was the best dick in the world right now. He hooked his thumb under his dick and pushed up so it pointed to the ceiling. He looked at the wide head, and glided his index finger over his piss slit and spread out the precum slime. He let out and deep breath he didn't know he had held and moan as his body sank into the propped pillows and his hips pushed his dick towards his face, almost lifting his butt off the bed. His boxers began to bunch up, scrunching into his crotch and ass. He tried pulling his dick through the fly of his boxer, but he didn't want to bend his dick and the pressure was feeling good, anyway.

He continued to play with the head of dick and with each breath he took the pleasure in his crotch grew like a fire fed by a bellow. It went up his abs and chest, into his shoulders and back. His thighs were goosebumped and his feet clenched and played his sheets. His whole body was into it, his whole body felt in tune to his dick. His dick was like an instrument. He had never paid so much attention to his dick, he avoided beating off to stay chaste to his girlfriend. But, when he gave in to relive the build up, he'd usually just lay in bed and beat off in five minutes or less, clean up and move on. But, now he was watching his monster hard on working on his every nerve. He moaned out and bucked his hips as he tickled his head between his fingers, and letting his hips back down. Something changed in his dick so that the pleasure intensified and blew up, so even his fingers tingled. His eyelids fluttered and the thought of getting lube to get his dick off seriously skittered through his mind. It was under his bed with the rag he used to clean up. Too far at this point. He took his hand off his dick, it was like putting against a magnet. His dick bouncing and ran his hands into his hair, taking a grip of his hair. It was a slight pain that escalated his pleasure, he watched his dick bounding, the head glistening and wet with his precum, another bead forming up the queue. He was pissed about the lube and gripped his hair a little harder. He immediately curled his toes and moaned from the depth of throat, as his hips bucked with a slow deliberate patient that he had never known. He needed lube, and his dick had provided like never before. His dick slowly pumped out enough precum that it ran down his dick. He only saw the beginning of it until his eyes fluttered shut and his gravely moan extended. Not until his hips and moan stopped did he open his eyes. He took in the small pool of precum that was run down his belly into his belly button without regard.

He could have kiss his dick, worshipped it. He released his hair and ran his hands slowly through the stubble on his face, and down his chest. His nipples sent a jolt through him so that he jumped a little, and squeeled. He pinched his left nipple and sent his hand into the mess of precum lube on his belly, and slide a tight fist over his dick's head, spearing his cock through his tight fist. His moan began at the tip, 'fuuuuuuuuuuuck', and didn't end until his fist had hit his base, and slid into his fly, pressed over his balls, coping a good grip, and nestling into his taint. He was fucking panting, and fucking cursing.

He pulled his balls out the fly to hang loose and rubbed his hand through the remaining precum on his belly. He moved his left hand from his nipple to massage his sack and balls, which filled his hand nicely. He glided his fist over his dick, gyrating his hips as he pumped. Panting and biting his lips. Massaging his balls, he'd occasionally left his balls and let fall. The heavy balls falling into his crotch felt was a big turn on, and made him feel like a stallion, until his sac began to tighten. His fist was pistoning over his dick without any style. Once his balls tightened up, he put more teasing into his jacking motion. He began twisting his fist as he reached the head of his dick, the first time made him buck his hips in a jerk he had absolutely no control over. The motion sent him off his pillows that he'd reclined against, and no he laid on his back, his head propped up on the pillows. He closed his eyes and rode the waves of pleasure. He a really good teasing and pleasing jerk going, down down was fast, but going up his dick was slower, with a twist and squeeze at the head, then a quick fist down again.

Deep in his gut he felt a heat seeming to spin and intensify every touch. His tight boxers pressed against his balls, taints and crack, every spin of that internal heat brought a jolt of electric pleasure where his boxers pressed tight against him. He was close now, his legs spread out, shaking with movements and spasms of his muscles, his calves taut as his toes curled until the skin was white, then flushed red as he released and achingly slid and bend his legs. His abs were tight then sucked in, then loose and puffed with air. His eyes always shut or fluttering with pleasure... his honey skin had a sheen of sweat, his room steamy and hot, his boxers dank and tight. He was hardly breathing, it was a rasping panting as the pressure mounted. His lube was drying out, but he didn't care. Even as the thought came, his dick provided. He moan his gratitude, he praised his dick with incoherent mutterings and groans. His fisting action quickened and he teased his head more, twisting it and jacking it in short bursts till it ached like a sore tooth, it tortured him and made him sweat more. It fucking fueled him and the spinning heat in his groin grew large with it.

He was on his most intense burst of short quick fists that covered his head and only an inch of his shaft, until he spun on his back like a top and propped his back and legs on the pillows and his feet on the wall. His eyes were closed as a few more quick bursts tortured his dick and heated his balls and crotch like hot coals... he opened his eyes as his moved his fist slowly,= down his shaft to the base of dick. His dick pointed at his face, he thought of a batter pointing out into the field for his home run. His dick pulsed and a jet of vivid white cum shot out of his dick, he pumped his dick, and milked every burst of cum into his mouth or onto his face. Every jet was precious, he watched every pulse, every opening and closing of his slit, every white glob coming at him from his dick. He counted 12 creamy shots, almost all of them successfully shot into his mouth. He collected it there in a creamy mess and swallowed once he was sure he wouldn't miss a shot. After spurting his load, he let himself slide to the side and lay down on his bed, riding the euphoria of his orgasm. He began noticing his music, and moved his head a bit to it. He could smell the cum still on his face and chin, and it drove him wild, but he used patience and slowly scooped and slid it all into his mouth and licked his fingers.

He laid in bed for a long while, incredibly contented and satisfied. He felt the way his still hand warmed his belly, and the way his dick slowly deflated. He'd occasionally swab a finger over his head to pick up any remainders. Once he began to wander on to things he needed to do and responsibilities, he was struck all at once by the real world. He quickly took off his head phones and propped himself up on his elbows to gaze down at his dick. He didn't feel guilty at all about his morning wank, it was like he had acquainted himself to a new friend. It had a different quality than last night, which was invasive, foreign and nonconsensual. He noticed the house quieter and more normal sounding. He got out of bed and chucked off his boxers as he headed to his shower. It was a small shower and toilet connected to his room.

He sauntered in and turned on the water. While waiting for it to heat up he looked at himself in the mirror and ran his hand through his stubble, getting the gritty sounds from it. He ran a hand down his smooth chest and slapped his belly. Reaching into the shower, he tested the temperature. Not to hot and not too cold, not to bad to get in now. He hopped in and soon the water heated up to his liking, fogging the mirror.

--

Kevin woke with a start and stared wide eyed at the source of the disturbing noise. It was only his door opening, but he had slept fretfully and had not fully calmed down since his ordeal. His brother eldest brother stood before the opened door staring at him, not speaking. Kevin was suddenly annoyed, his brother no doubt barged in to boss him around, do some chore or errand, or just to fuck with him and wake him up early.

"What the fuck do you want?"

Cody moved his gaze up to Kevin's face.

"Rise and shine boy."

He walked out without taking his eyes from him, and he was sure that his brother had intended to wake him up in much rougher manner. It wasn't until the door closed that Kevin noticed his rather large morning wood. It was tenting his shorts. In his sleep he had thrown his sheets and his tented shorts were risen up into his crotch, his bare legs were exposed to his pale thighs. He pulled the hems down, feeling the friction of his hair on his fingers and the shorts passing over hairy thigh. They pulled on his hard cock too. It felt good, but he felt his dick was more like an alien from the movies. Instead of proclivity of giving in and busting a load to ease his blue balls, he wanted to examine his equipment first, see if it was normal.

He lifted up the waistbands of his shorts and boxers. His dick laid on his belly, it was a fat bone and stiff as a board. Laying down like he was, his dick would still lay on his belly, but bounced a little with his heart beat. The thick meaty cock looked alive, like a puff adder waiting for a wary traveller. It was breathing. He was amazed by how hard his dick was and the heat of it. His dick head was flared and an angry pink, the foreskin on his dick stll covered half his dick head. The contrast of the paler foreskin and the blood infused pink of his engorged dick made him feel like his dick had a fever. He was horny as fuck, but intimidated at the same, he wasn't sure what was going to happen to him if he began down that path. He let his shorts go and they snapped onto his waist, laying back he curled his legs up and pressed his dick between his thighs and abs in an effort to get it down. The effect was marginal, it was maybe just the effect of deciding he wouldn't jack off that made him feel better, but as he got out of bed and stood up, his dick pitched a big tent.

He looked around his room for a few seconds, ignoring his dick, his hand playing with the fuzz on his belly. He went over to his closet and took a wife beater, clean boxers and picked up the towel he'd used last time he showered. Placing them in front of his bulge casually, he hurried to the one bathroom in the house. He moved noiselessly along the shag carpet and scurried into the bathroom, hunching over his crotch at that point. He felt and looked like a cat burglar. He quickly shut the door behind him. Leaning against the door he paused to consider why he was being a pussy, hiding his dick from his family. If they'd seen his hard on, they'd have ignored it, but if they'd seen him scurrying like a wimp, they'd start laying into him. What the fuck was he thinking?

He remember his brother that morning, Cody. He had stared at his crotch the moment he got into the room. He was in a family of three boys who had lived with just their dad after their mom divorced him and left. Morning wood was as common as discarded beer cans in this house. It was the look in his brothers eyes... he shivered and put his bundle on the sink counter. He slid his clothes off and looked at his still hard dick in the mirror. Through all the shit that had happened and a hazy shitty future, his could appreciate the view. Fuck if his blazing boner wasn't a beauty. He twisted at the waist to get a side profile. His dick stuck out at a perfect 30 degree angle. He flexed his biceps. Turning to the mirror again, he looked at himself, into his eyes and as his hand wandered again to play with his belly fuzz.

He heard more rousing of people in the house and quickly went to the shower and turned it on. The water sprayed out over the length of the embedded bath. He adjusted the shower head for a more direct shower, and took a breath before stepping into the deluge of cold water. He jerked with the first jolt of cold water and turned his back to the water. He shivered and felt at his dick, still a brick breaker. He sighed and turned into the cold water. Standing open and still to the shower, face toward the shower head. His dick responded to that, he could feel it shrinking. Startling to him was that he could feel the heat of his dick receding too, but if felt like the heat and warmth was being pulled back into him, rather than being washed away. It receded like a snail into its shell. His dick was down to a half chub, much more manageable. He began his washing routine in a gruff militaristic routine and turned off the water before getting out. He toweled himself dry just as indifferently and dressed up. Clean boxers, dirty shorts and clean beater. He opened the door while still toweling his hair and walked to his room.

Cody passed him on the way to the shower himself. He was uncharacteristically cold and had a hunch of anger to his shoulders. He was in his boxers, where as when Kevin first saw him he was in a pair of jeans shirtless. Kevin couldn't help but notice the wet stain on the boxers where his dick was pressing against the fabric. He ignored it and went to his room.

He wasn't sure what he'd do this weekend, his dad and brother would nag him everyday to get a job. He sat on the edge of the bed and considered his options. Everything at that moment become somewhat dismal and his future was obscured as the imagine of himself in his fathers job crawled into his head. He's sweaty and beaten hourly as his wage amounts to a litter of beer bottles, cigarettes and a tin home that withers in the sun. He felt a great desire to run out of his then and find the happiness of a group of friends sipping beers and smoking bud, free of these worries. He put his shoes on and left his room while stuffing his wallet in his back pocket. He passed the bathroom with the sound of water running and his brother, and in some part his worries were left behind. He took his cellphone out and dialed Rusty hoping to get a ride. The phone rang listless in his ear as he left his home and was clutched by the bright white heat of the day. The screen slammed behind him and his shoes scuffed the dirt on the concrete pavement. Still it rang, then Rusty answered.

"Kev? 'Sup?"

"Bored and hot as fuck, wanna hang out?"

"Yeah, man. Need a ride?"

"Yea, man...."

"Ha, yea, do I need to ask. Cool, I'll get there in 15."

"Cool."

"Later."

"See ya."

He hung up and spat, cursing that he didn't have car. He continued walking to the entrance of the mobile home lot and passed the houses that seemed to peel even as the sun beat them now. He saw ahead a lithe girl beneath a green mesh sun cover and noticed the milky skin. Her tshirt was tied up in a knot exposing her soft navel and she wore tight hot shorts that clung to her frame and showed she wore nothing else underneath. It was Carly and as she noticed him approached her body relaxed and posed to show off her curves. She swirled her glass of punch clinking the ice and took a drink as Kevin approached her.

"Hey Kev," she exclaimed and licked the cool punch from her lips.

"You look hot Carly," Kevin said with a large and sly smile. She giggled and ran her hand over her neck into her shirt.

"I am. You want some punch?"

Kevin paused and considered his priorities. He decided he could make it in time and if not Rusty could wait a minute.

"Yeah, I'm really thirsty."

"Come on in then," she said turning away from him with a girlish twirl, adding beyond the door, "parents are out right now."

Following her Kevin replied, "Cool."

His eyes followed Carly and the tacky living room went ignored. In the kitchen Carly opened the fridge and took a jar of punch, then headed to the cabinets to take a glass. Kevin watched her from behind as she poured the glass and danced one of her legs slowly in the air behind her. She turned towards him, leaning on the counter behind her and proffered him his glass before her. He went to her and took her glass, holding with it her hand and approached her still so that stood very near each other and looked at each others eyes. He lifted the glass and drank heavily, so that Carly watched for a long time the workings of his throat and the muscles of his chest. He finished his drink and put that glass down behind Carly, pressing closer to her. She lifted her hands to the waist of his shorts then and slid them behind Kevin up into the wife beater so that she felt the cool sweat on his back. He pressed himself closer into her and their stomachs pressed to together. He pushed his crotch into her and ran his hands over his body.

From his dick there was strange response, instead of immediate arousal his libido to fuck her was slow to come, in denial and confused anger he continued with more vigor and energy to grind himself and play with the pretty girl that he'd fucked and made scream in pleasure before. Beneath him Carly sighed, but not from pleasure and he looked her face in question. She looked him somewhat bored and with nothing of lust nor interest in him. He clicked his tongue in frustration and ran his hand down her shorts to fondle her there. Carly squirmed and protested.

"I'm not into it anymore, Kev. Sorry, it's weird."

Kevin remained silent and Carly took it as his need for more explanation to preserve his masculine reputation.

"Sorry, Kev, I mean you had going, I was wet, but then I dunno... it just went off. It's too hot to fuck, I guess."

Kevin watched her and thought long about this situation and about the events in the shower room.

"Uh, You want more punch?" Carly asked hopefully.

"Yeah, no I I'm cool. I gotta go."

And with that he left quickly and left behind Carly, but not the burden of worry and confusion in his head. Then he reached the entrance and watched the streets in their movements of cars, until finally one moved towards him and stopped and he entered and left with his friend. He hoped for the reliving of those innocent moments with his buds, but the hope was weak and he was very tired of denial. He felt confused and lonely, but suddenly he said to himself 'fuck it' and leaned back, sinking into the car seat, saying to Rusty, "Where to, man?"

"Dunno, got anything in mind?"

"Anywhere is cool, man. Take me anywhere."

"Uh, sounds good."

And like that his worries were blown away with the wind racing through the window. It was summer again to him and with the blaring tunes he smiled despite not knowing where he'd end up.

Next: Chapter 3


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