That night Chris went home to the twenty-questions from his wife. She seemed worried how tired he looked. He told her there were more tests than he expected, nothing to worry about, he'll be fine. She wasn't buying it but he convinced her they had to be up early so they called it a night. Almost out of fear, he started to mess around with her, not knowing if anything was gonna respond or not. He didn't want her to feel his surprise when his dick got very hard very fast and was in her in record time. They fucked and fucked until she had experienced her second orgasm before he finally pulled out and went to the bathroom. He could not piss he was so hard. He knew he could have fucked for hours and not cum, his dick felt like it was on auto-pilot! He washed up and came back to bed. She was happy and tired and asleep in no time. He lay there in the dark, hard as a rock, a thousand ideas running around his head, watching most of his life explode into a million pieces. The doc assured him he had nothing to worry about, they would discuss the contract when he returned and he should contact them if he had any pain or problems "down there". He thought about jackin himself to sleep but any more stimulation and his dick would split like an overripe tomato.
Twice during the night he got up to piss but he was still rock hard. It took some work but he figured out how to piss through his erection. And the dreams! It was like the floodgates were opened! All the forbidden thoughts about non-female sex came pouring out! He never realized how much he knew about the anatomy of every male he'd ever known. He was just finishing a dream about being raped by the whole goddamn wrestling team when the alarm went off. It was still dark but his wife was up and in the shower. He got out of bed and started the day, still hard and darkly swollen.
His wife had done most of the packing the night before, in part because he was at his appointment but basically because he would have waited to the last second. So after a quick coffee and rolls they were on the road, the city getting light behind them.
For some reason traffic was working in their favor so they pulled into her relative's place by noon, an hour before schedule. Her brother and sister were already there with their families so it was a minor hurricane that greeted them. Of course both bathrooms were filled with high-octane kids -- Chris was a headbeat away from using the bushes. Luckily his wife saw how uncomfortable he was and how much he'd been squirming the whole way there so so manually removed two of the nieces before they finished combing all of their hairs. They were incensed -- Chris was relieved.
As he stood there, bent in half, still pissing through his hardon he heard the knock,
"Kin I c'min?"
"Geez I just got in here!"
"C'mon Chris it's Tom. Open up!"
Chris managed to stuff himself back in before the door opened. His brother-in-law, the self-styled tennis pro (as in fifth-grade teacher in real life) was already in before Chris could even flush.
"Damn those kids!" and he was racing to get his fly open and his cock out before he wet himself. Chris went to washbasin turning away from him, in part to his his front.
"You always swear at your own kids?" Chris looked around for a towel and by accident turned part way towards Tom, whose cock was pouring out a healthy stream in no mood to stop.
"Just the one, Jennie's mine. That other one is Krissie and don't get me started on those two" he stood there hoping he's stop pissing before the sun went down. When he felt Chris' eyes briefly wash over his crotch he returned the glance and saw a split-second outline of the tube stretching towards his far pocket.
"Damn Chris you shoplifting from your own parents?"
"Come again?"
"Is that a bottle of shampoo down there or you just happy to see me?" and Tom gave himself a couple of shakes and zipped up. He flushed the full bowl finally.
"Morning wood y'know... okay?"
"Chris it's after noon! You always like that?"
"Fuck..." Chris edged out of the bathroom, careful not to rub his crotch against Tom's butt "only around your wife meathead" and he left Tom to his own devices.
Chris had been hoping for some "quality time" alone in the john, if for no other reason than to see how much of that goo he could shit out. All morning it felt like he had the runs, but he knew that was not the problem. And with a house full of wild indians, there was no way he could get a solid hour in there by himself to do some major cleaning. At this rate the weekend was going to be one long painful ordeal.
He went into the kitchen and found his wife talking to her mom, "I'm sure you got a lot of catching up to do with your family" trying not to underline "your" too much "so you won't mind if I go out for a couple of hours. There's still the Bally just off Oneida right?"
"We just got here don't you wanna relax?" from her mom. Her expression said, yes it is a bit crazy here now isn't it?
"No I gotta work this shoulder out a bit. It was giving me trouble the whole drive here" looking at his wife, you saw how unconfortable I was, and you know we still have three day left.
"You think it will help hon?"
"Yeah, I won't be gone long" and he was out the door. He got to the car and luckily she had not unpacked his gym gear from the trunk, like she would touch it anyway.
He drove off as fast as the streets would let him. He was doing fine til he ht Woolwood which was very crowded with the holiday traffic. While he sat waiting at a red light he noticed a pharmacy to his right. With a car length to spare he slipped out of his lane and turned into the parking lot.
Inside he looked around and then asked the pharmacist for some kind of cream or something that would help itching. When he rolled his eyes at the suggestion of calamine lotion, the girl offered him a tube of ointment which might help.
"Do I need a prescription?"
"Not at this strength" she almost sneered like he was an idiot "it's only the five-percent that you would."
"Fine" and he grabbed it from her.
"Wait! That'll be seven eighty-nine."
"Can't I pay for it up front. I need to pick up some other things" which I don't want you to know about bitch!
"Oh all right" she walked away, her hands waving him away like some rotten bug.
Chris made sure she was not watching and found the aisle for those small disposable enema bottles. He was hoping to give himself a good flushing and the large bags were just this side of ridiculous.
He checked out with the blood rushing to his cheeks and was back at the car in seconds. He thought about smearing himself right then and there but there was too much foot traffic so he burned rubber getting out of there and back onto Oneida. After another mile or so he found the park, then the center, glad they were still in business -- as if they would go out of business -- and parked. He grabbed his gear and went in the door, not paying attention to the new entrance.
"May I help you?" the twenty-something guy with zero-percent body fat asked.
"Yeah what's your rate for one day?" and he handed him his card.
"You are a member?"
"Not here" Chris tried to be patient with the muscle-head "but my membership supposed to be good for a visit anywhere right?" and he pointed at the back of the card.
"I'm sorry we are no longer with that company. We are independently owned now--"
"So you are a --"
"No" body perfect pointed at the sign "we're now--"
"So I can't use my card here anymore?" he felt his plan unraveling, just his luck to be tripped up by some corporate buy-out bullshit.
Well I'm not sure..." but bonehead ran it through the computer and when it worked, suddenly he was mr. polite "oh I'm sorry sir. Of course you may have a complimentary one-day work out. There is no charge since this membership in our former organization entitles you to free use of all schedule-free areas, such as main work-out areas, pool sauna, but not racket or handball courts which would be a small charge, but if you'd be interested in our supplemental membership programs we could -- "
"Tell me later" Chris almost bolted through the doors "just point me in the right direction."
"Down this hall to your left. Will you be needing towels or a lock, we could rent you a -- "
By the time the commercial ended Chris had found the locker room and was already stripping out of his clothes. He had thought about heading straight for the johns but then thought a fully-dressed guy might arouse suspicions. He looked up and down the row as he kicked off his shoes and socks, glad that the holiday was keeping the crowd to the few die-hards if that. Just when he started to unbuckle his pants, he noticed someone coming in from their workout. He did not turn to see who it was, but rather heard him more than saw him. The guy sounded either out of breath or out of shape. Without turning he heard him come to a stop about ten lockers to his left.
Fuck! he thought, just my luck. I can't wait for the bastard to leave before I drop my pants! So Chris turned his back on the guy, or rather the steam engine behind him, and dropped his pants and shorts in one motion. He looked down at himself, hoping some of the blood rushing to his face would soften his cock. Fat chance. He had to turn slightly to get his towel wrapped around his waist. He noticed that the train had stopped its chugging all of a sudden. Thinking the guy had left, Chris hazarded a glance in that direction.
Sitting there, barely able to breathe was a kid probably still in high school. He was sitting perfectly still, not moving a muscle, the sweat pouring down his sleeveless baggy tshirt. Even his runing shorts looked shiny. And the kid's eyes were wide open. Hell they were past wide, they were bulging! He was looking straight at Chris' towel. The two of them were frozen in the moment. Finally Chris nodded and muttered "hey."
"Howww" it seemed the kid muttered, half way between "hey" and "wow".
Before the kid could say or do anything more, Chris grabbed his shaving kit which hid his purchases, and fled for the bathroom. Even as he was leaving he heard the train start up.
Chris found a vacant stall and quickly opened the first enema kit. The pre-lubed tip found his hole with barely a slowdown and was in to the hilt. Chris thought it would be more painful or embarrassing than it turned out to be. When he felt the fluid wash his guts he let out a soft moan.
After the first one was emptied and flushed and then the second and third he began to fell almost human again. After the third evacuation, the bowl started to have less of that greenish tinge. But Chris was not taking any chances. He wrapped the towel around himself and hearing the coast was clear, tiptoed out to the washbasins and filled all three again, this time with tap water. Just as he was entering the stall he heard the door open and damn! if it wasn't the kid again, wearing only a towel at that! He could swear he could tell the kid saw him but damn if he was gonna find out.
Again he gave himself a triple irrigating, until it seemed the greenish tint was gone. He sat there staring at his cock, almost saying, Okay show's over! You can go down now! but no dice. It stayed at full mast, throbbing and red.
He found the tube of cream and put a small dab on his leg, to see if it might burn or something. After a few minutes he started poking at it, but it felt almost numb. So, very slowly and carefully, he applied some to the shaft of his cock, again waiting for any sensations. When it seemed like it was working he smeared more around the head. He sat there a few moments longer, and damn! if it didn't look like some of the redness was going away.
He gave the underside a good thump and almost laughed! He barely felt it.
It seemed like he was wearing an entire box of rubbers for all he could feel it.
He raised himself off the seat and smeared a big glob onto his middle finger. Feeling like the biggest perv ever he slowly worked it into his butthole, the tingling and itching finally, finally! starting to fade. He put more on his finger and worked more in, deeper this time until he hit that nub inside that set him off last night. At first it was a real rush but then the cream started to have its effect. He was standing there, his finger up his butt, a huge smile on his face when he heard the water start. Fuck, the kid was still there! Thought he left ages ago!
Chris stood there, not hardly breathing, hoping he had not been making any incriminating obscene sounds. He tried not to laugh at how ridiculous he would have looked. While he waited, almost forgetting to remove that wonderful finger, he tried to remember again what that kid looked like. Then it hit him! Damn, he only knew one other kid the same size and shape as that guy. It was one of his own guys from the team, the one they called Moose. Of course it wasn't the Moose but the kid was built like him, maybe less muscular and more baby-fat but still, too damn close for comfort. Chris stood there waiting for the kid to leave, and his thoughts came back to the Moose. Yeah, that's real fuckin normal, he told himself, you're standing there with your finger up your butt thinking about one of your wrestlers. If that ain't sick I don't know what. He looked down at his crotch. Fuck, throw in fully rodded as well. But damn there was no sound of the door so Chris knew he couldn't stay in there forever. And damn what if the kid was getting suspicious of some strange guy who comes in to the gym, gets a major hardon, and then spends way too much time in the john! Chris knew what that meant and knew he had to get outa there before the kid started blabbing to the staff. He packed all his toys into his kit, wrapped the towel around himself as best he could, flushed and opened the door.
He almost stopped dead in his tracks. Standing at the far-left washbasin was the kid, buck naked balancing on his right foot, his other lifted up into the sink. Chris' first instinct was to tear out of there, but realized it was a real good idea to wash his hands. He took the far right basin memorizing every scratch on the handles. Just as he was turning off the water and looking for the paper towels he heard,
"How'zit goin?"
Once Chris realized he didn't hear "you fuckin pervert!" he carefully looked over.
"Skool, you?"
"Fucked up."
Chris turned to face him and realized the kid was massaging his left ham-string, where a nasty bruise had formed. Of course his package was on full display.
"Just pull that today?" Chris turned away and started drying his hands, hoping to leave very very quickly.
"Naw, but I think I overdid it. What a wuss!"
"Better have someone take a look at it" Chris was backing away, yeah let someone else look at your boys. And yeah, the kid did kinda remind him of Moose, but without the hair.
"You from around here?" the kid said and then let out a yelp. Of course Chris turned back,
"You okay?"
"I just rubbed too hard... where the skin's sore."
Well maybe if you were watching what you were doing instead of drooling over my towel, Chris thought but said "here try this shit" and tossed, not handed him the tube of ointment. The kid was no baseball player so it bounced off the sink in front of him and landed on the floor behind him. He lifted his foot back onto the floor and then made a deep bend to reach down and pick it up. Chris got a very good look at the kid's crack and swore he even spread a bit to show his hole.
"What's this?" the kid picked it up and came walking over to where Chris was trying to leave.
"It'll kill the pain" trying not to look down at where the kid was holding it.
"This stuff legal?"
"Fuck yeah, you can get it down the road at *****'s"
"No shit?" and he had the cap off smelling it "damn, it smells like buttfuck!"
"What?" Chris looked down at the tube, hoping he'd cleaned it after he used it.
"Chill, it's just what the guys say when somethin smells nasty... what they serving us today? Looks like chili smells like buttfuck!" and he cracked himself up.
"Well you can keep it I gotta go" Chris saw his exit.
"Naw lemme just put a bit on you can take it back" he smeared some on his inner thigh and tossed the tube back to Chris, good and high. Chris reached for it and the front of his towel came open. A brief shot of the underside of his dick pointing up to the knot for a spilt second lit the room like a flashbulb.
"How" muttered the kid again.
Chris readjusted himself and before the kid thought of anything else he muttered "later" and slipped out the room. He was back at his locker and getting his workout clothes out in a flash, hoping to get into his jock and three pairs of shorts and two sweatpants before the kid returned. Just as he was stepping into his jock he saw the silhoette of his friend passing the row, probably heading for the showers. Great, Chris thought, by the time I finish my workout, he'll be long gone.
Christ headed out to the weight room checking the clock. Damn, already wasted a half hour so I only got another half-forty-five left. He was working up a sweat on the stair-climber when he happened to see a familiar face in the mirror. His new best friend was at the free weights successfully looking preoccupied. Chris finished the aerobics and started the nautilus hoping to get at least fifteen minutes of upper body in. Just when he was getting into his groove the clock told him to pack it in.
He headed back to the locker room, knowing he had to take his shower here. The homebase was out of commission for him for the rest of the vacation, as far as he was concerned. But he did not know how he was going to manage it without getting himself out and out arrested. He stripped down to shorts and jock, grabbed a towel and headed for the showers. Two guys were coming out, naked and dripping as he went in. They nodded and went their way. He carefully peered inside, seeing a large open room with about a dozen shower heads on opposites walls . This ain't never gonna work, he thought. Then he saw a room behind and around to the right. As he headed there he saw six individual stalls, three on a side, with dividers up to head level. Perfect, I finally get a break here. He went past the first two, making a point of ignoring the one guy on the left. He took the stall last on the left. From where he stood, if he stretched up on tiptoes he could just see over the top of his divider but otherwise he had privacy. Except for the stall directly opposite him. Fuck, he thought, the chances of someone coming way back here are very remote. And besides, they'd have to be brain-dead not to realize that anyone coming way back here was either very shy or very private or just not to be messed with.
He hung his shaving kit on the hook, suddenly remembering the two bottles were still inside. Better make sure they don't fall out, that would look real bad. The towel went over it, just to make sure. He turned on the water and soaked, glad to have his first shower of the day. He was shampooing his hair when he thought he heard another shower head start somewhere behind him. Fuck, I'm covered, I'm decent just as long as they leave me the fuck alone. He rinsed his hair and lathered his face and neck.
As he was rinsing he turned and hazarded a glance to see who was where.
Standing right across from him was his new friend, head to toe covered with suds. Before Chris could turn away, he caught his eye and just nodded. Chris turned back into the stream and stood there. Mutherfuck! he thought, I got me a shadow all of a sudden.
He stood there thinking what to do. He could bolt and put the whole thing out of his mind. After all he needed to be outa there in the next ten minutes anyway. But he also could feel how grimy he was and knew he would not get another chance for a shower til very late tonight. Fuck and fuck again, he thought, I ain't gonna let no kid spook me, even if he is a bit too interested, ya get my drift?
Chris sudsed down his front, trying to clean his crotch as best he could through the two layers of fabric. As he rinsed he turned sideways, again catching the image of the kid across from him. He was rinsing himself off now, and damn if he didn't look a little wooded down there. Now Chris had a good idea what the kid was about. He sudsed his back and legs and turned away from the stream, now facing the kid full on. As he watched the kid, without even touching himself, started to go to full hard. When he caught Chris' eyes on his crotch, he turned sideways, almost accentuating how his cock jutted out. Although he was almost hairless, he did have a dark, well-defined area of pubic hair over his not long but very wide circumsized cock. His balls were the whitish-pink of a teenager and were barely haired.
But it was his cockhead! Chris could not remember seeing anyone who's head was almost twice as wide as their shaft. Damn, that thing must hurt, he thought, and then caught himself staring. The kid made no move to cover himself as Chris turned in slow motion to put his face under the stream. When he hazarded another sideways glance the kid was facing away from him, his legs spread double-wide, bending forward, his weight on his hands. Chris stood there and just gaped at the kid's display of his crack. He could not turn away, it was such an amazing display.
When the kid bent his knees and slowly lowered himself down until his head was almost touching the tiles did Chris feel a distinct throb in his groin. Even though he was covered he looked down and could see where the tube was pointing up along his left hip crease. He stood there staring, fully aware of how the kid was flexing his ass muscles.
Chris stretched up on tiptoes seeing who was around. The first guy seemed to have left and he could hear a sole shower running somewhere in the common area. He looked back at the kid who was still bent over, his hands touching the floor. Chris never felt so torn in half before. He knew like he never knew anything before that he should just gather his things and get the fuck outa there. But the water on his back was hynotizing him. Because it sure as hell wasn't the butt show in front of him that was gluing his feet to the floor. Fuck, yeah it was.
As he stood there unable to move, the kid drew himself up and with his hands behind his back,he turned to face Chris, his eyes on the tiles between them. The kid's cock looked like it was going to explode, and his chest was rising and falling in slow heavy times. He had never seen anyone so proud, so effortlessly at ease with his naked hardness. Chris stood there feeling childish and a bit emasculated in his clothing. His hands went to the waistband of his shorts and before he lost his nerve he slowly pulled them down, turning his back on the kid as he did, ignoring the low grunt-like moan from behind him.
He made a show of soaping and washing the shorts and jock under the water and hung them on another hook, thinking about every algebra problem he ever had. But he looked down at his front and knew he was not going down anytime this month. Fuckit, he thought, I'm gonna turn around and let the kid see my dick and that will be that. He turned sideways, knowing his rod was at its best display like that, and turned off the shower head signalling his departure. When he turned completely around and faced the kid he was not ready for what he saw.
The kid was crouching there, his eyes glued on Chris' crotch, both hands wrapped tight around the base of his dick, not like he was jacking, more like he was doing everything he could to hold it in. Chris had not seen that expression since one of his nephews was late getting to the bathroom to piss. Chris looked down at the kid's trembling hands and up to his face, beet-red and blotchy. Damn, he was actually holding his breathe, but his eyes were staying open. Chris knew that if he so much as coughed the kid would fly into a thousand pieces. Chris reached down slowly, letting his hand slowly rub down his chest, to his stomach, to his hairy crotch, and then under his balls cupping them. With his eyes boring into the kid's front he gave them a couple of bounces, his dick bobbing up to his belly and kabloooeeyyy! the kid let out a strangled sound and rope after rope of his cum noisily slammed onto the tiles below.
Like the spell was snapped, Chris grabbed the towel and the kit in one hand, the wet clothes in the other, and dashed outa there, not stopping to tie the towel around him. He held it in front of his crotch when he passed the one guy in the shower and swiftly headed for his locker. He grabbed the rest of his clothes and headed for the johns, knowing he could finish dressing there. He had no desire to face the kid now or ever.
He dried off and threw on his dry clothes, again pinning his cock into the fold of his shorts. As he was leaving he checked the wall clock, one fifty-five, late but not criminal, and ducked his head around the locker room, hoping the coast was clear.
The kid was nowhere to be seen, so he headed down the row past his locker. Glad he did because it looked like he dropped something on the floor in his hurry. When he stropped to see what it was he almost choked.
There on the floor in front of his locker was a pair of lycra bike shorts, not his. But right on top of them, right at the crotch, pointing up like a miniature penis was the cap to his tube of cream. Chris looked around, reached down, picked up the cap and the shorts, put them in his bag, and headed for the door: total time, one and a half seconds!
He made it to the front door, still wet and sweating and signed himself out.
"Everything all right?" the ripped wonder asked.
"Yeah fine thanks" and he was outa there.
Chris was back at her folk's place by two-ten. He went inside, a bit surprised how quiet it was.
"Anybody home?" he yelled.
"In here" his wife called from the kitchen.
Christ went into the kitchen where his wife sat with her folks.
"Where is everybody?" he looked around, suddenly guilty for no reason.
"They already left for the parade" she said.
"Am I late?"
"Not really" she poured another cup of coffee "it didn't start til two."
"It's after two now."
"The parade won't get to Green street til at least three. Of course the kids were antsy and couldn't wait."
"We still have time to get there?" oh boy I must be in trouble, he thought.
"If we leave in the next fifteen minutes sure."
"Okay I'll change and be right down" and he we tore up the stairs two and a time. He went to the room they invaded and pulled out some "respectable yet patriotic" clothes. As he was stripping out of his gym clothes he thought he might want to finish dressing as it were. He took his kit into the bathroom, wonderfullly miraculously empty, washed his face, powdered and sprayed where needed, brushed his teeth, combed the bristly hair, splashed some cologne and started to dress. That was when he remembered the "present" his shadow friend had left for him.
He pulled the lycra shorts out of the bag and held them up. What the fuck was he doing with these? he thought, they're barely big enough for one of his legs. He gave them a tug and was flabbergasted how they stretched. Fuck, this may work!
He pulled them up one leg, seeing the fabric give, then the other. When it got to his hips he gave a good tug and damn! they were on, his eternal hardon pulled to the side and almost invisible.
He pulled on a pair of cut-offs over them and heard a knock,
"You okay?"
He opened the door pulling on the red-white-blue polo shirt, "ready are you?"
"You look great!" she almost laughed "good enough to salute!"
"Very funny. Let's go" he carefully made sure his kit was closed "your folks ready?"
"Let's see" and they headed downstairs.
Chris spent the afternoon with the extended family watching the parade. >From what his bro-in-law told him, they had missed maybe the first fifteen minutes, no biggie. The kids were excited when they found them, taking it as a cue that they could now start acting like kids. Which they did.
After the parade they headed over to the sis-in-law's friends place for a cook-out. Chris was almost waiting to see a familiar face in the group, but laughed at the odds. Still no matter how busy he stayed all that day, no matter how much he drank, that image of the kid blowing his nuts in the shower room would not go away. Even when he felt the familiar throb at his groin, he saw the scene over and over again. And in a way he was weirdly turned on knowing he was probably wearing the kid's shorts. Why DID he leave them for him? Was it to remind Chris of that? Was it because he knew it would help him stay presentable and the kid was just being a pal? Chris laughed, not fuckin likely. He was probably beating off right now knowing -- or hoping? -- that his shorts were rubbing against Chris' cock at this exact moment. That's why he left the cap right where he did, to drive home the image of the hard cock against the tight material. Several persons seemed to notice his blushing, but he held up his beer implying, it's just the beer.
Even that night when they went to Riverside Park for the fireworks Chris was half-expecting to see the kid's face materialize from the countless groups of highschool or college aged kids who seemed to be everywhere. Several times he thought he recognized the shape of his broad shoulders or thick legs, and once he saw someone that he swore was him but his group was too far away and Chris was letting the darkness cover for all the beers.
That night the house filled with cranky and exhausted sunburned kids and Chris and his wife made their goodnites and crawled off to their room. Before the bathroom brigade descended Chris snuck into the bathroom to get ready for bed. He even had time to get more of the cream around and in his still-sore butthole and would have smeared his cock for good measure but hoped his pride and joy was going into someplace warm and wet very soon and didn't want to explain to her why her pussy was suddenly numb.
He crawled into bed and started the prelims but got instead,
"C'mon Chris the whole place is crawling with relatives. I can't have one walk in right in the middle of our screwing."
"C'mon babe I've been waiting all day!" rubbing it against her to make his point.
"It'd feel weird. You know I've never doing it here. Even when we were just dating, Chris it's my parent's house, it's always felt odd, like the walls are listening."
"C'mon babe just a quick--" and sure enough there were kids' voices in the hall outside their door.
They both became very quiet hoping they'd leave. By the time the kids wandered off they were both asleep.