Disclaimer: The following is a story of a homosexual nature and is sexually explicit. Please do not read if you are a minor or if it is illegal where you live to do so. Remember to think smart to play smart. Use protection. Today's story features an American teen of Korean descent who just doesn't understand the jock lifestyle. He soon develops feelings for one and it is this relationship that will lead him down the road to a new sense of self. If this sounds like something you wish to read, be my guest and read. If it is not, go back and look for another story to read.
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Korean Werejock Connor
If I ever live a thousand years, I will never understand jocks. Just look at them. Everywhere they go at Washburn High, they strut around in their letterman jackets like they are nobility. Football, baseball, the sport does not matter. It seems that once a guy gets muscles and he's put in a letterman jacket, he becomes a different being. All they talk about is what they play, working out, and looking as studly as possible. Almost all of them act boisterous or pompous or both. Also, you should hear some of the talk I have overheard in the bathroom. If they aren't chattering about athletics, many are blabbering about hooking up. I am not of their kind, nor do I wish to be.
"Hey Kimchi Boy!" I roll my eyes. My name isn't Kim. It's Connor Jin-woo Park. Why must they assume that just because I'm Korean, I enjoy kimchi? Okay, so it's one of my favs. Let me be clear, one of my favs. My top favorite food however are nachos. I continue walking down the hall towards my locker. A voice calls to them, "Wait up for me bros. I gotta talk with Connor." My head twitches in startled surprise.
I turn and there he is, one of the luminaries of our school's wrestling team. He is Jonathan Bonner. Why does he want to talk with me? "I need some tutoring and I was wondering if we could be study buddies. Interested?" I didn't know what to say. I looked into his absorbing brown eyes and replied, "Uh sure." We exchange numbers and he turns around to catch up his "bros".
Throughout the days that followed, I was trying to think of real reason why he wanted to study with me. Do I go to his place, or does he come over to mine? He didn't say. What subject did he need help with? He didn't say. Should I have snacks? He didn't say. What if he catches me looking at him like he's piece of candy? He didn't seem to be the type who would out me or lash out, but do I want to take that chance?
We exchanged text messages to set up a mutually convenient time. I had to work around his immense workout schedule and his practice sessions. Interspersed throughout his tests were his worries. Why was he sharing them with me? Why was he addressing me as bro? I wasn't one of his buddies on the team and yet he was contacting me like I was. I kept my thoughts to myself. I didn't want to alienate him.
He said that they were down one guy and Coach Bradshaw was having a hell of a time trying to find a replacement. He only had about two months to find someone. What would he do if he couldn't find someone. I tried Jonathan to keep positive. He appeared to appreciate my words and replied, "Coach will find a way to make things work. He always does. I just need to concentrate on our study sessions. Am I right?" I replied, "Sure thing."
Time? Saturday night. Place? Jonathan's place. He smiled at me when he opened the door. He was wearing shorts and a tank that hugged his chest. Was this appropriate clothing to study in? Come on Connor. Get your mind off his buff bod and chockfull of teen meat crotch. We head down the hallway to his room, "I've moved my desk from its spot next to my bed to the middle of the room by the window so we could sit across from each other. Pay no attention to the mismatched chair. I got it from the garage and cleaned it. Let's pound those books."
I took a moment to look around the room while he set up the study area. Anyone visiting could clearly see that this was a jock's room. There were plenty of sports posters and there was a shelf full of medals and awards from his time with the wrestling team. The only thing that was missing, I thought, was a poster of a hot babe. Shouldn't he have one? His buddies had often commented about hooking up with our female classmates. Had he? I couldn't remember and I didn't want to pry.
For the next three hours, we studied hard. Jonathan seemed like he needed my help. He would ask me things about what we were studying, and he seemed genuinely puzzled. I was glad to help. We did take a break to have a snack which consisted of peanut butter with banana wraps. Accompanying it was glasses of protein shake. It was out of habit that his mother made these. Someone of my body type and demeanor was unfamiliar here. Unfamiliar food combination for me, but I was glad for the refreshments. If I had a snack in the evening, it was usually cookies when we had them or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It was soon time to head on home. He thanked me and wished me a safe journey home.
The next couple weeks continued like this. Every Saturday, we would meet at 7pm, study for a few hours, have a snack somewhere in there, and then head home. The following Saturday, he came back to my house. The week after, I was back at Jonathan's house. Something kept bugging me and I was too afraid to admit it. I was starting to have the hots for Jonathan and these repeated visits were taking their toll on me. Sooner or later, he would find out how I felt about him, or I would open my mouth and would let something slip. That never happened because he beat me to it.
Late September, it was another Saturday study night. We were wrapping up the session and I headed towards the door when he closed it and placed a hand on my shoulder, "Wait. Please wait. Don't go. Not yet." He turned my body around and looked through my eyes into my soul. "Can we talk? No books or sports. Just talk." He sat on the bed, "I've never told my bros this or even my parents. I've tried to deny what I am, but I just don't want to stay silent anymore. I gotta tell someone. Even if it's you." He motioned for me to sit on his bed. He sat next to me and looked at me, "I'm into dudes bro. Just dudes. There I said it. Now you can laugh at me." His head looked down at his feet. His body quivered with nervousness. Was this happening? Was this seriously happening for real? I tied to look at him, but he kept looking away. Was this the same Jonathan Bonner I knew of in school? The one I knew was always upbeat and confident. This Jonathan was ashamed and insecure.
I looked at Jonathan. I didn't know how to react, and I didn't know what to do, so I did the only think that I thought might work. I felt his studly arms and caressed them with the back of my fingers while uttering a soothing, "Shh. It's okay." The sensual touch was starting to bridge a gap between us but that didn't seem enough. His head rose and he looked into my eyes as I told him what I had also buried, "I'm only into dudes also bro." Admitting to this truth in the words he would use finally broke through. I caressed his muscles and he purred, "Geez, dude. You can't imagine how many times I've dreamed of doing this with another guy." Encouraged, I planted my lips on his. He did not resist. He reclined on his bed and held my body as firm as his could without it being too tight. He kissed me hungrily as if he had been deprived of air for ages. I felt a throb against my groin, and I replied with a throb of my own.
We soon heard footsteps down the hall, and he let go. He opened his door, and he escorted me to the front door. He smiled, "Thanks a bunch bro. See you around." He looked around and puckered his lips. This was followed by a wink. I didn't know how to respond so I answered, "See you around." I licked my lips before I slowly got into my car, never taking my eyes off him until he closed the door.
Somehow, I made it home. Every time I stopped at a light, I kept replaying the scene with me and Jonathan again and again. That was no dream, but it seemed so unreal. I arrived and entered. My parents asked me how the study session went. I squeaked, "It went fine. I'm heading up to bed." They both said, "Good night."
After washing up, I lay in my bed and was unable to sleep. The memory of being held by Jonathan sent tingles throughout my body. The warmth of his body and fondness was as bright as his red hair. The joys I felt were as numerous as the freckles on his handsome face. I struggled with the feelings he gave me. If I ever hooked up with a guy, I would want him to be like me. Besides these study sessions, Jonathan and I had nothing in common besides being attracted to other guys. We were dissimilar in physiques and in personality and in interests and in our social ranking. While I could not deny he was a red-hot ginger, I was failing to deny that I had strong feelings for him.
My hands explored my body, and I wanted them to be his hands. They made a trek downward to a land of stringy hair, a pillar of flesh, and two orbs full of Korean seeds. I knew I was a slim guy, and I didn't have a musculature like Jonathan's or his comrades. The one physical trait I was proud of, besides my eyes, was what was between my legs. I had measured myself a few months ago out of curiosity. My hardon was a tad over seven inches long and I had nice plump nuts that complemented it perfectly. As much as I liked the package I had, I also felt guilty. As soon as I found that I would be considered above average, I felt that I had stollen it from a more worthy man.
I didn't usually jerk off because I was always afraid that my parents would hear noises and barge in while I was on assignment. I had to chance it. I needed to chance it. The pillar mandated worship. I wrapped my fingers around it and moved them up and down while I fondled my balls. The shaft thickened and grew long. It loved the attention I fawned upon it. The image of a theoretically naked Jonathan posed in my brain. What did he look like without his clothes? I could only guess by his clothed form. He too is pleasuring himself., "Let's blast off together. Would you like that CJ?" I focused on the illusory hand while my hand continued its carnal task. Faster and faster, Jon faster and faster. My body squirmed as its time drew near. Finally, it surrendered to the oneness that all males experience. Globs of Korean joy juice gushed out into the air and landed on the smooth landscape of my chest. My dick thanked me, and I snuggled in my blanket and fell asleep.
The days passed and we continued our almost secret relationship. My parents, in a moment of meticulous observation, had noticed the way we looked at each other. One night, they sat us down and had a heartfelt conversation. They didn't want to pry, but they expressed that it appeared to them that we were more than just friends. They told us that they wanted us to feel safe here in expressing our feelings for one another. Jonathan broke down and wept. His father, a former Marine, believed in traditional gender roles and behaviors. Jonathan was afraid of disappointing his dad or worse, get kicked out of the house. Jonathan acted masculine but would his "crime" of being attracted to men be so egregious, he would be kicked out? My parents looked at each other and looked directly to him and told him that they would open their door to him of that ever happened. Dad said, "We have a spare bedroom but if you two want to share Jin-woo's bed, we're fine with that. Just know that if you decide to take things to the next level, you do things safely."
Only in the Park household was our relationship known. No one else was aware that the two of us were gay and were a couple. However, he wanted to be affectionate in public if the timing and location was right. This is the same Jonathan who wanted to keep things a secret. He was desperate to have an open relationship and so was I, but the fear of scorn from those he knew was too great. I understood where he was coming from because I wasn't ready to come out publicly yet.
One of these moments of open affection was at school. One of the worst places to be affectionate in public, but he wanted a good luck kiss before he headed off to the locker room for tonight's matches. He pulled me into a side hallway near the library. He looked around and deciding it was safe, he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me on the lips. I felt that we were being watched. I squirmed out of his hold which cause him to whisper, "What's wrong?" I replied, "I feel that we're being watched." He looked around and so did, but there was no one. Nonetheless, he believed me and said that we would later pick up from where we left off, "Maybe when I come over next time?"
Several days passed. He cherished our times together. My home was a safe harbor, a place where he could unwind and put his troubles on hold. He could be his full self. There was one chief trouble, "Coach Bradshaw scouted around but he still has not found anyone to join the team. Everyone he's asked is either not interested or is already in a sport." I didn't want him to give into despair, "He'll find someone in plenty of time before the season starts." He wanted to believe me but there was only four weeks left before the start of the season, but he was doubtful. I held his hand, "Have hope. You must have hope."
The next Tuesday, I was getting ready to go home when Jonathan comes up running to me, "Coach wants to see you. Only you." The directive had the same weight as if I had been told I just won a million dollars. "Come, I'll show you the way."
We headed through an entryway that I hadn't been through in years. It led to the basketball court, gym, locker rooms and coach offices. We reached the correct door. Next to it was a placard bearing the name of Paxton Bradshaw. I knocked and he motioned for me to come in. I turned to Jonathan who said, "I'll wait at the front entrance." He left and I entered.
Paxton Bradshaw was a Black man about twice my age. He wore a mustard yellow polo and tan khaki pants which fit his body well. Age had done little to diminish his good looks or his masculine form. For someone who might be interested in casting him in certain types of fantasies, he'd be a great choice. I asked after I closed the door, "You wanted to see me?" He nodded and motioned for to sit down. He had been writing in the spiral notebook and silently continued to do so for a couple minutes. I began to wonder when he would speak when he looked up, "Mr. Park?" I replied, "Yes sir." He wrote a few more lines and reached over to shake my hand. "Nice to meet you. Do you know why I've called you in?" I didn't know why. Even if I had the rest of the week to think about it, I would never have guessed right. He studied my expression and asked, "Has Mr. Bonner told you of our team shortage?" That I knew, "Yes. He's concerned." The man sighed, "That is an understatement. I would say grievously concerned. I have asked all available young men, those who would be appropriate, but all have declined. I have run out of time and options." He let out a puff of air and he looked lost in thought as if he was struggling to find his voice. He then said, "I don't get involved in the relationships that my men are in, but I have seen you and Jonathan together." I was half surprised. I knew that someone had been watching us. I just didn't know that it has been him. I was nervous. As an authority figure, he might act against Jonathan.
Mr. Bradshaw pictured up on my trepidation and held up his hand to assuage me. "I did not ask you here to condemn your relationship and I have no intention of kicking him off the team. That would only put me in a further bind. Besides, I have nothing against gays. None of my business. I also have no intention of making your relationship public. It is for you two to decide when the time is right. Whatever you and Jonathan decide, I'll support you both. I have asked you here because I have seen the way you two interact and it got me thinking about your future." His mouth was still moving, but my mind became to hazy to understand what he was saying. The next words spoken with clarity, "I'm happy that you two found each other. Thank you for dropping by and I look forward to seeing more of you. Before you go, take this knapsack with you." It was a drawstring knapsack, also mustard yellow. I placed it on the desk and was about to look inside when he cautioned, "Not right now. Wait until you get home. It's a secret surprise so no need to tell your boyfriend until it's time." I shyly replied, "Okay." I stood up and headed to the door. My hand was on the knob and I looked back at him. He looked up, "Things are going to work out. You'll see."
Jonathan was curious about what my meeting with his coach was about. Away from the ears of others, "He knows that we're in a relationship." He was blindsided. I replied, "Coach said to not worry because he supports our relationship and he'll keep it a secret. He said that us being a couple got him thinking but he didn't say anything more until he gave me this bag. It feels like there are clothes in there. He said to open it up later. He said it's a secret surprise." All he did was nod and we parted ways in the parking lot, just two confused guys.
When I got home, I threw the bag onto the bed. I sat next to it and opened it up. He said that I could open it up when I got home. I was confused by the contents. It was a complete work out ensemble: black tank, navy blue mesh gym shorts, socks, sneakers of gold and black. On the top of the clothes, there was a jockstrap. All were crisp and new, never worn. Why in the world did he give me this? First, I would never wear these clothes. Second, the sizes were off. They would fit someone of Jonathan's build, but not mine. I opened the closet door and threw them in there.
It was the middle of October, a couple weeks later, and I had not looked inside the knapsack since Mr. Bradshaw gave it to me. I had completely ignored it. I didn't want to throw it away though so stuffing it away where it would be the least bothersome was the best solution. Jonathan hadn't asked me about its contents and Mr. Bradshaw hadn't asked me if I had tried on the clothes.
It was the first Wednesday of the month and I was enjoying a lighthearted evening watching classic Doctor Who episodes on one of those channels that show old shows in my room after finishing my homework. I winced in pain. It was as if someone had punched me in the gut. Then another punch and another. I was driven from my bed by the agony and stumbled onto the floor.
Every bone and every muscle intensely ached by whatever was happening to me. There was no place to think of how and why this was happening to me because of the overwhelming agony that I couldn't run away from. My ears inconceivably started to hear the banging of weights and the whirring of machinery and rock music played low to flavor the mood. I knew these sounds although I had not experienced them in person. I was hearing the heartbeat of the gym. I glanced at my arms which were becoming thick, crafted from years of working out. I felt my shoulders expand and saw my pectorals puff up. Somehow, my clothes were keeping up with the changes. I felt like I was drowning. My mind was becoming distant. All I could think of was working out, sweating, and looking as bodacious as possible. I felt wonderful. I felt a virility that I had never met before. I moaned in pleasure "Oh, dude" as I lay on the floor feeling this unimaginable teenaged muscular body. Distant and more distant until nothing.
Mr. and Mrs. Park were in the den enjoying a quiet evening. They heard their son's door open and a voice that sounded vaguely like their son's, "I'm heading to the gym. Be back in a couple of hours." Any sense of questioning such an outlandish statement was immediately squashed by a feeling to just accept it without a second thought, "Have fun Jin-woo."
It was another awesome Wednesday night at the gym. The moon was full and bright. It would have been a romantic setting. If only I had someone to share this night with. After swapping my clothes, I exited and walked across the hallway to the workout area wearing black shorts and a white tank. I enjoyed working out in the evening because I sleep wonderfully once I hit the sack.
I had just finished with the treadmill. I like to start with cardio and using the treadmill's my fav. I was at the bench and was getting the barbell ready by setting the plates when I saw him. Who's that? I've never seen him before and yet he seemed familiar. I felt a jolt from my eyes to my groin. I had to be near him, and I had the perfect plan in my hand. I motioned him over, "Yo! Over here. Can you help spot me?"
The muscular Asian in the black tank and navy blue mesh gym shirts approaches "Sure bro. I got ya" and with every step, I feel more tingly inside. He appeared to be about my age, and he is sporting a crewcut. I lay down on the bench while he approaches from behind. I look up and got a close look at his heavenly bulge. I was so close to it. I am not a size queen, but by the curvature, I could tell that he was packing a nice piece of Korean meat inside his shorts. How did I know he was Korean? That feeling that I knew him came back. Wishful thinking Jon. You only want to think you know him so if you two hook up, you won't feel guilty that you got it on with a stranger. I looked back at his junk. Seeing is believing, but I wanted to believe that he easily eclipsed my six inches. Anyone else might have felt slighted by encountering an Asian guy who was more hung than he, but I felt no shame. To be honest, I felt hungry for it. I wanted to touch it, to open my mouth, and taste it.
A witty whisper, "Want to keep enjoying the view or want to hit the weights?" My concentration broke and I blushed. Damn him and damn me the most. Damn him for being hot and damn me for giving myself away. The silver lining was that he wasn't repulsed by my gaze. Rather, he relished it. I gripped the bar and breathed, "Let's do this." My new gym buddy lifted the barbell, and I took on the load. He began to count for me. Up and down and up and down. We continued like this for several minutes. All the while, he was smiling at me.
We never parted for the rest of the evening. When he decided to run on the treadmill, I had another go at it. My eyes glanced at the clock, and I knew that I should have left several minutes ago. However, I stayed put because I was enjoying myself too much. A part of me, the naughtier part, wanted to see what my companion looked like in his true naked Korean glory. "Dude, look at the time." More time had passed. It was nearly 10pm. I was thirty minutes over my usual time. I agreed, "Let's call it an evening then."
He sharply turned around and headed to the locker room and I followed. Swish, swish his curvy buns go. We enter and he opened the locker behind the one I chose for today. Why was fate doing this to me? It was bad enough that his time at the gym overlapped with mine. Now fate conspired to place his chosen locker so close to my own. He took off his sweaty gym clothes and tossed them into the mustard yellow drawstring knapsack he had. Between taking off my own clothes, I sneaked looks at him. Looking good there. He departed for the showers first and I soon followed. We were the only ones there. To save myself, I took a spot four showerheads down. Despite the distance, I got choice viewing and so did he. Every now and then, he looked my way also and smiled as he lathered his bare body. I was right. He was more endowed than I and he was intact. I had never seen one before. Picked up on that I was looking at it, "Smidge over seven when I get a hardon, but you're not bad yourself. Name's CJ by the way." I replied, "I'm Jonathan, but my bros call me Jon." He nodded, "Nice to meet you. Jon." He rinsed off and headed back to the locker area. I was still in the middle of showering because I enjoy long showers. I hastily finished and followed him.
Boy. That was quick. He was gone and the locker he had used was empty, its door slowly swaying. Just my luck. Maybe I could catch him. I put on clothes and scurried out with my belongings. Lobby, he is not there. I enter the parking lot and I see a maroon car driving away. Rats, just missed him. The car looked familiar. I thought he would have stuck around so we could chat some more. It seemed to me that we had a budding connection. Disappointed, I got into my own car and headed home.
My parents had started to get worried since I was nearly an hour late, but they readily accepted my reason that I was just in the zone. It had happened before. My mind has occasionally become a blank when I'm working out. They nodded and I headed to the bathroom to wash up before bed. A piss followed by brushing of teeth which was followed by heading to my room. I ditched my clothes and slid beneath my sheets wearing just briefs. If I had my way, I'd sleep naked if I could. I only wear gym shorts and a sleeveless tee for a short time each evening if I'm not working out that day. I put them in the chair next to my desk which is next to my bed in case I needed to get up in the middle of the night.
I lay in bed and my eyes look up and then out the window. CJ is out there. Somewhere, but he is also right here. In my dreams. The memory of the brief time we had together had a profound impact on me. For years, I had buried my attraction for other guys deep within me ever since I came to the realization that girls didn't do and would never do anything for me. I had hidden that side of me so that no one would suspect, and I wore a mask that told everyone that I was straight. CJ had unearthed that feeling and my mind became flooded with imagery I had long denied myself.
I was in our school's gym. Specifically, I was alone on the practice mat. The only illumination was focused on the mat. A voice from the darkness, "Hey Jon. I was wondering where you ran away to. We're sparring this afternoon, remember?" A being comes out from the shadows. It is CJ wearing a singlet in Washburn orange and white. Headgear is framing his enchanting face. He approaches the ring and gets into position. Instinctively, I crouch down to get into position also. Coach's voice somewhere, "Ready?" We both signal that we are ready. With the trilling of a whistle, we begin to grapple. He's good. CJ is one fine wrestler, just like me. Why was he wearing our colors? He was not on our team. How could he when he didn't even go to our school? He seemed familiar but trust me. My eyes would remember someone like that.
How long had we been wrestling? Several minutes had passed. We were rolling around on the floor. Hands on skin and spandex as we tussled. It was thrilling. Not sex thrilling, but athleticism thrilling. We were trying to outdo each other. We both wanted to be on top, but it wasn't to be me today as CJ pinned me. Another whistle. This was declared CJ as the winner. We were about to head to the locker room when there was another whistle and a suggestive tone, "That's just round one. You boys forgot about round two." CJ and I both knew what round two was. It was a special regimen devised by Coach. He knew that our fondest and wildest fantasy was to have hot guy action in the gym.
As the winner, CJ pinned me down again. With purpose, he grinded his maleness against my ass as he gripped my hips, and I was loving every movement. The distended bulge in my singlet was obvious. I whispered needfully, "Stuff your Korean meat in me. My hole is only for yours."
He flips me over and now I gaze into his eyes. He giggles and taps on my nose with his index finger, "Silly goof. Plowing your ass is going to be my grad gift to you." I become lost in them as his face comes closer and closer until his lips touch mine. We frenziedly kissed until the magic moment when his tongue invaded my mouth and began polishing the inside. There was a pervasive silence besides the sounds of our kissing and Mr. Bradshaw's moans, "That's it boys. Keep going. Keep it up." Our eyes open and we see a now visible Paxton Bradshaw is sitting on the bottom bleacher with his hand rubbing the front of his slacks, caressing the sublime bulge he made. We continue to kiss, and he continues to touch himself. We pause and look his way. Our mouths water as his eyes peer into our minds and catches onto our cravings. He jerks his head and we come over.
We get on our knees and feel his firm body. A buzzing feeling permeates our bodies, and we want more. We look up at our coach and he smiles. I look at the pulsating mound between his legs and I know what destiny calls me to do. I reach for it, and I massage it. I am rewarded with another smile. I reach for the zipper and lower it. I slip my hand inside and haul out a splendid piece of dark meat. CJ and I look at each other and we both lean forward. He positions his head and looks up as he feasts upon on those succulent balls while my mouth is clamped on the shaft. I bobbed my head up and down. We both look up to make sure that we are doing things right for him.
Coach Bradshaw places his hands on our shoulders, "I knew you young men had a thing for me. Liking how I taste? Tell me how I taste." I took the dick out of my mouth and held it. I gave it several long licks with my tongue while looking up at the man, "Chocolatey." CJ paused to coo, "Creamy and nutty." He moaned, "Yea, you like Coach's candy bar, don't you?" We nodded at the same time as we continued to snack on him, always looking at him in the eye. His chest heaved and his breathing came in short bursts, "Here's your treat." He took command of his cock and pounded away at it to cross the finish line. He was an unending font of cum. He wasn't a dribbler. He was a gusher as streams of semen blasted out and coated our open mouths.
Coach pulled up to our feet and told us to kiss each other. CJ and I held each other's waists as we kissed and licked his essence off each other. "I gotta get me some of this." He took his thick arms and wrapped them around our waists. In turn, we held on to his waist. A trio of mouths clashed; a trio of tongues grappled. "Yea, my boys. My boys."
Out in the waking world of reality, a slumbering young man named Jonathan Bonner humps the body pillow. A smile forms on his face as the bulge in his trunk briefs becomes engorged. It soon throbs and a familiar spot appears and beings to spread. More smiling. He snuggles against the pillow and continues to sleep.
I woke up with my head spinning. My sheets and quilt lay askew to the side. I had been laying on my stomach. For a brief moment, I didn't know where I was. For a slightly longer moment, I didn't even know what today was. The only hint I was given that today was Thursday was the alarm on my phone because I have a different song for every day. I tapped on the screen to silence the alarm and I let out a yelp. I had glanced down and discovered I was totally naked. I hastily put on my discarded sleepwear and dashed to my dresser to get a pair of 2(x)ist contour pouch briefs. I wasn't considered a hot guy at school. Look at me. I was one of the shortest guys in my class and I was scrawny. I also had a youthful face so many people were surprised when I told them I was a Senior in high school. Not at all like Jonathan or his bros. They were clearly males of late adolescence, males of rich and handsome virility, males who would attract plenty of attention. The only thing I had going for me was my thing. I had prominent equipment between my legs. Since I turned 18 a month ago, I wanted to treat it right. I selected five of my most frayed underwear and tossed them in favor of something that looked more sensual.
I headed to the bathroom to get ready for school and as I showered, troubled thoughts entered my mind. I distinctively remember watching Doctor Who as I wore my pajamas. What about the rest of the evening? A blank. My muscles were sore, and I massaged them with bubbly soap lather. I had never felt anything like this. I had completed the mandatory PE classes and was glad to leave them in the past. Any concern I had about the unfamiliar sensations left my mind and disappeared. Just like the water circling down the drain. Just finish and get ready for school.
Later that day, I was in the lunch line. Shuffle feet, shuffle feet. I pass by Jonathan and his boisterous buddies. My ears pick up traces of his tale, "I don't know who he was. All he said was his name was CJ and he drove a maroon car. That's that. He ran outta there crazy fast. Know any muscle Asian dudes?" They all shook their heads and then they gave him looks which suggested that they though he was making this guy up because Jonathan frowned, "I'm not making this guy up and I know I've seen him before. Not the gym, but here." One of them saw me and said, "Uh? Kevin? Know any Asian guys who go to the gym?"
My face scrunched up, "First bro, my name is Connor. Second, I don't do gym. Do I look like I would be familiar with guys who go to the gym? Third, I don't have the 411 about Asian guys our age in the area." They seemed taken aback because they had never gotten such a reaction from me to anything they have said. "Sorry, gotta go now." I knew I was blushing with embarrassment as I turned my attention back to staying in line.
At the end of the day, Jonathan is at my locker. One eye is full of concern while the other is brimming with wonder, "Whoa. Where'd you get a mouth like that?" I looked away, "I don't know. It was like I was a different person for a second." He absorbed what I said, "Not that I didn't enjoy that, but there's a certain finesse to being cocky."
The two of us continued talking as we headed out the parking lot. Some were puzzled by our interaction because we were so different. I asked, "What was he like?" I wasn't worried about being upstaged by this mystery guy. I was genuinely interested. Jonathan felt that it was the latter, "He was a great workout buddy except for ditching me. When me and the other guys work out, we linger a bit afterwards. Anyhow, he was as tall as you. His shoulders and muscles were like mine though. Black hair in a crewcut. Korean too, but don't ask me how I knew that. It was like someone put the two of us in a blender and created a new guy. He was as real as you and me. I just wish I had gotten to know him better."
I was still feeling wistful when I got home. CJ was the best of both worlds. He was into fitness like me, but he reminded me of Connor. It was like he was Connor. I know I am not the brightest bulb, but even I could tell that the guy I worked out with yesterday was not the same as the one I went to school with.
Once I got home, my parents were getting ready for some blah gala. Thankfully it was a school night, so I was under no obligation to attend. My meal was already in the fridge. I just needed to heat it up. It was leftover spaghetti and spicy Italian sausage from yesterday.
I sat in the living room eating my meal on the dinner tray as I was watching The Great Escape. I stuck a piece of sausage in my mouth and savored the texture and the spiciness. I felt an urge between my legs. I was hungry for another type of spicy sausage. I just didn't know anyone to join me for some fun. My phone buzzed. Huh? It was from CJ? I don't remember exchanging numbers, but I went with it. I knew he could satisfy my craving.
Through a series of quick texts, I told him I was alone and wanted company. He got my meaning right away. What of his parents? Somehow, I knew they were cool with us being along together despite not seeing him before yesterday. In about thirty minutes, the doorbell rang. There he was. I just had to know, "You are real, right?" He provides my ass with a playful slap, "Of course bro. I'm real. I'm as real as you are." This didn't make sense. I wanted to ask follow-up questions, but something inside my brain told me to ignore them. It told me to just accept CJ was here for some action.
We headed back to the living room and sat on the couch. He placed his arm around me, and we finished watching the movie. We kept looking at each other. Each time, there was a glimmer of friskiness. The movie continued to play but we weren't really watching anymore. He turned it off and looked at me. He knew what I wanted, and I knew what he wanted. He reached for my tee and pulled it over my head. I took his shirt off in turn. He gently pushed me, and I leaned back on the couch. He pressed his firm torso against mine and grinded his crotch against mine. I reached around and clutched those Korean buns of his clad in denim as we shared intense kisses, swirling tongues.
I kept telling myself that this was right. My parents would never understand these feelings I had. Soon, I would be going to college, and I could be my true self there. CJ was lucky. His parents, although they didn't understand, accepted his attraction towards men. Again, the question of how I knew came to mind. Again, something in my mind told me to rebuff such a banal question. With knees on either side of me, he sat up. I reached for his zipper, and I stopped him. He looked down at me with a confused look. I looked up and said, "Let's take this to me room." He looks at me and raised an eyebrow, "You sure?" I looked back up, "Really sure." I still had a couple of hours and I wanted to make the most of them.
We kicked off our shoes and climbed on top of the bed to resume the shedding of pants. We were just two guys in shirts, socks, and underwear. My underwear was boringly plain but his was colorfully provocative. I placed my hand on the cloth and began playing with his bulge. The structure of the briefs just made what he had even more awesome. If my parents caught me wearing something like this, they jaws would drop to the center of the Earth. I planted my face on his mound and breathed deeply to take in the scent of Korean manhood. I nudged it with my nose, and I knew I was put on this planet for one reason, I was here to serve Korean men, specifically this one Korean.
I reached for the waistband and pulled his briefs to his ankles. Behold! It's already thickening and lengthening and starting to leak. That was quick. Excellence in horniness just like my buddies. I kept my eyes open so I could savor the sight of his penis entering my mouth. Contact. The texture was amazing. At last, I was tasting cock. CJ placed both hands on the top of my head to hold me in place while he fucked my mouth. He was at the steering wheel, and I was just along for the ride. I had never done this before, and I got the feeling that he had never been blown before. Up and down, up and down. Except for blinking, I kept looking at what was stuffing my mouth. All the while, he never let go of my head. Soon, he began to quiver and whimper his Korean words. Then it happened. Warm thick liquid began filling my mouth and I kept tightlipped so that nothing of him escaped. I guzzled down every drop of CJ and I gingerly let go and squeezed out the last few drops from his foreskin.
I had no time to rest as his hands were on my cock enrobed in a bushy reddish bush. In no time, CJ had milked me well. I had lost all control unlike CJ who held off jizzing for longer. How much more time did we have? I reached for my phone as CJ put his clothes back on. "They said that they'd be home at 10:30." We had a good hour left, but I wanted to take no chance. I feared how they'd react if they saw me and a strange teen guy mostly naked in bed together. I started to put my clothes back on and we looked around for our shirts only to realize that they were waiting for us. We headed down the hall and put our shirts back on.
I showed him to the door, "I hope we can see each other soon." He seemed to be in a trance as if he was lost in thought. His face twitched as he snapped out of whatever haze he had been in, "Yea. Yea. Tomorrow." I stood at the door and watched him climb into his car and continued to watch as he drove away. Tomorrow? I had no gym time on the schedule, only school. How could I see him tomorrow? As soon as he disappeared around the corner, I received a text from my parents. They were just around the corner. From the other end of the street, I could see headlights. I quickly locked the door and ran at the couch and turned on the TV. It was on something I wouldn't ever see so I switched it to sports. Oops. Shirt on inside out. I lifted it off my body and fixed it just in time because a few seconds later, my parents entered. Unaware that I had an unauthorized visitor, they greeted me. I got lucky. I wish I could come out, but I just couldn't take that chance. Maybe if the right guy came alone, I might be willing to take a gamble. Not now though.
Another morning and again my head is in a heavy fog. I remember watching videos on my phone and then nothing. Nothing until this morning when my phone's alarm woke me up. What was wrong with me? I felt the front of my underwear and felt the sign of wet dream. I dreamed that I was visiting Jonathan while his parents were out, and we had fun. I felt a strange euphoria as I recalled a moment. He worshiped my cock, and he knew how to please it. What had I done to earn his adoration? I thought that he would want me to give him head since he was the jock, a position of high status. I remembered impossible touches. Pecs like his, Abs like his. We were two sides of the same coin since we were of the same height and of the same musculature. How were we to decide who would be pleasured first? Colorful undies holding back bigger meat equals me being first.
As I took my weird musings with me into the bathroom, I chuckled at the imagery. This other Connor wasn't so mismatched. His athletic body splendidly complemented the package he had been blessed with. Nothing at all like me. I showered and returned to my room to get dressed for school.
Throughout the rest of the day, I felt weird. How do I describe it? What does the butterfly-to-be feel when it is still in its chrysalis? I felt exactly like that as if my body was just a shell for an emergent lifeform. This might seem to be a source of joy. It was not. Not for me. I felt dread. What was happening to me? How was it happening? Why? All these questions led to the same person: Paxton Bradshaw, the Coach of Washburn High wrestling team.
"Enter." I headed to Mr. Bradshaw's office at the end of the school day. I felt drawn to go there at that time, not one minute earlier, as if receiving an ethereal summons. I stood before him and asked, "What's happening to me?" He closed that familiar notebook from the last time I met him, "You're being converted. I tried finding a replacement for the team. I was really trying even while I was starting to lose faith that I would find someone suitable to join in time. Imagine my relief when I discovered your relationship with Jonathan. I noticed the chemistry you two had even before I realized that it was more than just a friendship. I decided I could cultivate that into something I could use."
Coach Bradshaw reviewed the notepad he had in front of him, "So I began rewriting your profile. My magic's rusty so I didn't do a complete rewrite of your entire life. Copying Jonathan's stats and abilities onto your profile also helped immensely. I also have had to make everyone dismiss the absurdity of you becoming CJ unexpectedly. Who is he? He's a wrestling jock version of you and I know he'll fit in splendidly. Those moments you've had during the past couple of days were the times when CJ took over. Soon, he will be here permanently." He smiled, "It's already starting. Right on schedule."
I grunted in discomfort and my eyes grew wide as my left arm became muscular and then the right. I felt like taffy as my shoulders widened. "Want to see the action?" He placed an iPad on the desk and switched it to camera mode before placing it where I could watch myself.
My physique was swelling to my boyfriend's proportions, to his height, and my clothes were changing along with me. They weren't only changing size. They were also becoming tantalizing just like my briefs so they would highlight the new musculature I was developing. The shape of my face was becoming rectangular just like Jonathan's. The quiff that I had was becoming a short crewcut with a high fade. Instinctively, I felt my honed pecs and biceps. I felt happy, a dumb happiness, as I basked in the wondrous bliss of being a teen muscle jock. No, this was wrong. I cried out fearfully, "I...don't want to be...a jock...be a jock." Then in a wanting tone, "I want to be a jock."
I was feeling extremely turned on and I had to grip Mr. Bradshaw's desk to steady myself. It wasn't just because I saw a hot Korean guy looking back at me, it was the thought of wrestling and working out which excited every fiber of my being. My balls being converted to produce healthy batches of jock juice. I felt a burning need to plant my cock in a hole.
Mr. Bradshaw noticed my arousal and he chortled, "Mine doesn't point in the same direction as yours, but a hole is a hole. You just desire a different one, right CJ?" I whimpered as I gripped and kneaded the front of my jeans which I now had instead of the khaki pants I had just a short time ago, "Yes Coach." He smiled, "Tell me whose hole you desire." Another whimper, "I want to plant Jonathan badly with my Korean pole." My boyfriend's ginger ass danced in my head. If I was home, I would have unzipped my jeans and whipped it out so I could whomp away. I nearly did but he stopped me, "There's always time for that later. You don't want to go overboard on your first permanent day as CJ."
My horniness subsided and I nodded, "So does this mean I'm on the team?" I still felt trepidation, but I was optimistic as new emotions poured in me. He smiled with relief, "It sure does. Oh! I have a gift for you. You need to look the part." It was a box. He slit the packaging tape an opened it up. Wrapped in plastic was a blue letterman jacket with white sleeves. He carefully cut into the plastic, "Take it out." I gently slid it out of the plastic and held it up. It had the letter W on the left side and on the back, the name of Park in ribbon script was on the back with my middle name of Jin-woo below to proclaim to the world that I was a Korean jock. "Try it on." I slid my arms through the sleeves, and I looked at my reflection. I likes what I saw, and I felt a joyful sense of purpose. "Feels nice, doesn't it?" I looked up at my coach and said, "Yes sir." He was thrilled, "Excellent. Time to meet the rest of your teammates."
The young men of the Washburn High wrestling team suited up for practice and waited patiently. Their coach said that he had finally found someone to join the team and he would be here with his find. Jonathan and the others gossiped about who it might be. Most of the names bantered about were those from the football team. That seemed unlikely because there seemed to be an unwritten rule at Washburn that no athlete played for both. It was one or the other. The time for speculation was at an end. There was their coach in the doorway with a figure in the shadow, "Guys. Your attention please. I've found a recruit to our squad. Come on out."
The eyes of the young men grew wide, Jonathan's the most, as a muscular teenage Korean male appeared from the shadow. Coach Bradshaw announced, "Guys, you know Connor Park." Their new teammate interjects, "You can call me CJ though." The athletes remembered that Connor looked very different earlier in the day, scrawny. Now he has a physique suitable for high school wrestling. A different thought permeated Jonathan's brain. Everything made sense now. He didn't understand how this happened. He only knew that that Connor had been CJ all along. Any further questioning left their minds. Just accept that this is the new Connor, or rather CJ, and he is here to join them.
CJ's new buddies watched with eagerness as he suited up in the singlet. They decided it suited him well. Some exchanged cursory glances at each other as their eyes looked downward. It was clear that he was on the high end of the teen meat spectrum. The new player asked, "How do I look?" They clapped in adulation. Mr. Bradshaw, "Time for practice men. Get a move on out there. Let's make it a fantastic season." Jonathan looked at CJ and gave a mischievous grin, "We sure will."
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I would appreciate any comments you may have, but please keep insults or flames to a minimum. I'll try to respond to everyone, but no promises. Please mention the title of the story so I know what you are referring to. You can email me at: chaoswolf04@yahoo.com.