Tkd Traveling Team

TKD Traveling Team

Chapter 4

By Matt

**This story is substantially true, and based on events in my own life. All names and locations, as well as certain tell-tale details, have been changed to provide anonymity for the people involved.

This story involves consenting sex between underage persons of both sexes. If this type of material is illegal where you live, leave now. If this is not the type of material you're looking for and want to read, leave now.**

The next week passed, essentially uneventfully. School finished up, and I went from a daily routine of classes, homework, and Tae Kwon Do to morning workout, work (helping an uncle at his landscaping business), and Tae Kwon Do. On the last day of school it occurred to me that James would be a freshman at Eisenhower next year, and we would probably see each other around school.

I threw myself into my practice hard, regaining my full splits yet again, and starting to work on the advanced curriculum Master Lee was trying to teach his black belts. Most of us had been focusing heavily on competition, training for sparring and forms demonstration, but Master Lee now began showing us some more esoteric stuff that was part of the curriculum, like weapons and meditation.

I didn't see much of James- he was still a brown belt, getting ready for his black belt test, so we were in different classes. I saw him a couple of times before and after classes, but decided to play it cool, hoping he would approach me. He didn't.

Friday night rolled around, and with it the open sparring class. This was an opportunity for those students who were so inclined to come in for an hour-and-a-half and pummel each other. I never missed it, and neither did James.

I pulled up in the parking lot at 6:45, fifteen minutes before open sparring started. Inside, Mrs. Yu (a Chinese woman who taught Tai Chi to the old folks) was finishing up a class. Just as I reached the door of the school, I heard James voice. "Hey! Matt!"

I turned around to see him standing beside his mom's car. I walked toward them, and we met halfway. James spoke. "Can I get a ride home with you tonight? My mom's going to Danny's recital tonight, and she won't be home 'til late."

"Sure thing, James. Let me talk to her."

I walked over and exchanged pleasantries with her, telling her I'd get him home, and that no, it wouldn't be much trouble, they were only about five minutes from where I lived. She thanked me and drove off, her two other sons arguing in the back seat.

James smiled. "Whew! She almost made me go and watch, but she knows I hate to miss Fridays. Are you done with school?"

"Yeah, I finished Wednesday. How about you?"

"Last day was today!" He grinned excitedly. "We have to go to Eisenhower this Wednesday night to register for classes and do orientation. You go to Eisenhower, don't you?"

I laughed. "Yeah, I go to Ike. I'll be a junior next year."

We kept chatting as we walked through the school and back to the changing rooms. James ducked into the bathroom while I changed (I was disappointed), but we met again soon on the floor.

Kim's Tae Kwon Do Center is pretty big- it's a large storefront in a strip mall with a great big practice space covered in firm mats, changing rooms and showers in the back, and an office for Master Kim up front. Mirrors and weapons racks line the walls, and there's a small area off to the side with chairs for parents and spectators.

That night the floor was pretty empty. Only about fifteen students had showed up for the sparring, which was a record low- sometimes as many as fifty showed up, and we had to take turns on the floor so there was enough room.

The next ninety minutes passed in a whirl of kicking, blocking, and punching. I sparred a round with Master Kim, and he beat my ass like a drum- he had this amazingly frustrating ability to suddenly not be where you thought he was. When you missed, he'd just give you this mysterious smile.

Somewhere in the middle, I ran into James. We squared off, facing each other. He attacked ferociously, throwing all caution to the wind, and surprised me with a few choice combinations. However, his sheer aggression could not offset my greater size and skill. I rung his bell a few times, then backed off. We gave and took for a few more minutes. When we went to shake hands after the match, I pulled him into a tight hug, which he returned. My last match was with an older orange belt, and it was pretty much a teaching session as I gave him pointers and showed him a few good combinations. Master Kim called the class to attention and dismissed us. I headed for the showers. To my surprise, so did James.

I always showered after sparring; I felt disgusting if I didn't, and I didn't have any hang-ups around nudity. Most of the other students, especially the younger ones, didn't shower. That Friday, James and I were the only ones who headed for the shower room.

The shower room was a small room, about ten feet by ten feet, with a drained concrete floor and tile walls. Pipes ran around the ceiling, and dropped down in the corners to four rusty showerheads. All this, as well as the fact that the room was reached via a narrow hallway from the changing room, conspired to give it the feeling of a prison shower room (another reason few people used it, I suppose).

I stripped down quickly, peeling off my sweaty cup with a feeling of relief, and walked into the shower room. James dawdled, probably out of embarrassment, and got in after I had.

The showerheads were old and whistled noisily, but delivered piping hot water quickly. I was just shampooing my hair when I heard a voice right beside me. "Matt?"

I jumped. My eyes were closed while I lathered my hair, and it sounded like James was no more than a foot away. Obviously the whistling showerheads had covered the noise of his approach. "Yeah?"

"I forgot my shampoo. Can I use some of yours?"

I licked my lips. "Sure. It's right on the floor in front of me." I stepped a little to the side so he could reach.

As he knelt down, I felt the soft skin of his shoulder brush against my leg. I immediately backed up and turned away from him, as I felt the beginning of a serious cockstand coming on. I heard him stand and move back to his shower, and moved back to my own showerhead, rapidly rinsing my hair as my half-hard cock jutted at the wall.

I rinsed the last of the suds out of my hair, then shot a glance back over my shoulder. James was almost sideways to me, his eyes closed as he shampooed his own hair. I turned to watch, able to see his skinny, but muscled legs and the shapely curve of his rounded buttock; his smooth armpits, flat stomach, and large nipples, sitting on pectorals just beginning to jut out from his body. In front of him I could just see a hint of dangling cock, but he was standing too obliquely for me to get a good look. I was just craning my head sideways to get a better angle when he turned toward the wall again and started rinsing.

I swiftly turned back to my showerhead and started soaping up, all the while thinking of a naked Rhea Perlman, Jamie Farr, my uncle Khalid...anything to tame my roaring hard-on. By the time I'd finished it was only slightly hard, and I walked back out to the locker room and grabbed my towel with reasonable confidence.

Some of the younger boys who had come in to spar took the opportunity to snatch peeks at my cock, a behavior I didn't particularly mind (I was proud of my body). I quickly dried off, making sure to give them a good look, and had my boxers on when I saw James had come out of the showers. He had a towel wrapped around his waist already, but took it off to dry off. To my disappointment he left it hanging down over the front of his body as he dried his hair, and modestly turned away as he dried his back. I felt cheated- I knew James had seen all of me (I had caught him "peeking" several times), and no reciprocity. I climbed into the rest of my clothes slowly, taking the opportunity to catch glimpses of the rest of his body, but saw nothing I hadn't seen before. We walked out of the locker room, gym bags in hand, and out to my car.

My car was, unfortunately, an embarrassment. A gray '89 Dodge Omni, one of the dopiest-looking hatchbacks ever made. I knew I was lucky to have a car, but still...I opened the hatch and we threw our bags in, then went around to the front.

I had a CD player with a car adapter, and as we drove off I started it up. Bob Marley crooned from the speakers: "Is this love/Is this love/Is this love that I'm feelin'..." I turned it down low so James and I could talk. We chattered about more inconsequential things, which teachers were like what at Eisenhower. Bob ran through "No Woman No Cry," then switched over to "Could You Be Loved."

We reached his house all too soon. A small house in need of a coat of paint, it stood in a solidly "working-class" section of town, but was only a few blocks from Thief Creek Park, on the other side of which was a more upscale section of town. My house was there.

I walked around to the back, unlocking the hatch and hoisting out James' bag. Our fingers touched as he took it. "Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll be there. And no problem, I can give you a ride anytime you need one."

I got back in the car and started the engine, but didn't back up- I wanted to make sure he got into the house alright, and I also wanted to catch that one last glimpse of him. He reached the door, reached into his pocket, and pulled out.nothing. He then repeated this performance with the other hand. Going down on one knee, he rifled through his gym bag, coming up empty yet again. I chuckled.

He came back around to my car door. I rolled my window down. "Forget your keys?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. You can go, though, I'll just wait for my mom and brothers to get back."

"When will that be?"

He bit his lip, looking embarrassed. "Eleven o'clock."

I looked at my car clock- it was barely eight. "Yeah, right. Get back in the car, we'll go back to my place." He made some pro forma protests, then got in the car. I scrawled out a note:

Mrs.Reilly-

James forgot his keys. I took him back to my house, and will make sure he gets some dinner. Call when you get home- I'll be up.

-Matt

I stuck the note in the door, got in the car, got back out of the car and hastily appended my phone number at the bottom of the note, then drove away. Two minutes later we were at my house.

We took off our shoes in the entryway. The house was quiet- the parents must have gone out somewhere. As we walked up the stairs to my room, we passed pictures, one of each of my parents, one of all of us together, then a whole string of six or seven of me at various ages. Matt stopped and looked at them. "Your dad doesn't look like an American."

I felt a brief flash of annoyance- it irked me when people said, that, as if there was some way Americans were SUPPOSED to look. I suppressed it and said, "Ah, but he is. He has been since '86, I think."

"Where's he from?"

"Lebanon." I saw a puzzled look. "It's a little country in the Middle East. Beirut's there." It was rather depressing that the only thing I could tell him about in Lebanon was its war-torn capital, but this was all he would know from the news.

"Why'd he change his name?"

I was startled by the perceptiveness of the question. Obviously Hopkins was not a Lebanese or Arabic name, but I was surprised he would notice. "He moved over here right around the time of the Iranian revolution, and the hostage crisis. Do you know about that?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"Well, there was a backlash against middle easterners all across the US. Dad decided to change his name so he wouldn't get hassled. So he changed his name from Omar al-Hamzari to Adam Hopkins. He's gone back to Omar now, but he's never changed the Hopkins back because it's kind of a pain to do. And I think he's worried I'd get teased or something."

We continued up the stairs, coming into my room, which was thankfully clean. A small TV and VCR occupied one corner, and I popped in "The Chinese Connection." We sat on the floor and watched happily for a while, making stupid comments, eventually coming to the part where the Japanese bad guys are entertained by strippers.

"Whoa!" said James. "I've never seen that part before."

I chuckled. "They cut it out when they play it on TV."

The strippers did their thing, eventually getting down to almost bare nipples. By James' expression and his frequent shifting as he tried to adjust his boner, I could tell that even this relatively tame scene was a new thing for him. As the strippers finished their show, I reached up and hit the stop button.

I looked into his eyes, our faces perhaps two feet from each other. I could smell the spearmint gum he was chewing. His eyes held fear and nervousness, and something else...longing? Lust? I reached over and put an arm around him. "Do you still feel the same way?"

He blushed a flaming-red (it was amazing how quickly that blush was growing on me), and nodded.

"Have you ever...done anything before? Is this your first time?"

He opened his mouth and croaked. "I've never...it's my first."

I smiled. I wanted this to be special for him- and for me, too. I turned toward him, getting up to my knees, and scooped him up in my arms. He was heavy, but nothing I couldn't handle. I felt him gasp as I picked him up, then I hugged him close and carried him over to my bed, gently lowering him to it.

I can still close my eyes and see him in my mind's eye, sprawled out on my bed. White ankle socks cover his feet; his calves and knees are exposed. Long black shorts cover his thighs; hanging over them is a loose, white sleeveless T-shirt that has ridden up a bit, exposing his even whiter belly. His thin, sinewy arms and neck reach out of his shirt. His face...ivory white, his proud chin and cheekbones giving it definition, green eyes dancing in their sockets...full red lips, inviting...a few summertime freckles dotting his face, and red bangs hanging down to cover his forehead. The mixed look of apprehension and anticipation in his eyes is delicious.

I moved down towards his socks, pulling them off, then leaned over the bed, pulling him up to half-sitting, as I pulled his T over his head. I gently fell into bed beside him, pulling him close. Our noses touched, and we stared deeply into each other's eyes.

I reached forward a bit, gently nibbling at his nose, then moving my way down to his upper lip, which was deliciously soft and smooth. I reached behind his head and pulled his face towards me, our closed lips pressed together. I opened my lips, sticking out my tongue, and gently probed between James' lips with it, meeting the hardness of his teeth. After a moment James opened his teeth and his tongue slid out to meet mine, intertwining and dancing with it. I felt the vibration of his lips and tongue as he moaned. His hands reached behind me, to the base of my tank top, and pulled it up until it was underneath my armpits. He seemed unwilling to break the kiss to pull it off over my head.

After a minute or two of that, I had to come up for air. I was panting as if I'd just fought twelve matches in a row. As soon as the kiss broke, James yanked my shirt up over my head, throwing it to the floor. I scooted in closer, kissing him on the forehead, stroking his hair. He twisted his head and started kissing my jaw and neck.

I hugged him closer, his bare chest pressing to mine. The feeling was electric- the peaks and valleys of my body pressed up against the relative smoothness of his, creating an unbearable heat. His skin was different, too...somehow softer and smoother than my own.

I slid down past his face, pausing for a moment to plant a kiss on those perfect lips. I kissed down past his jaw, then started sucking his neck lightly, trying to avoid making any suspicious marks. As I kissed and licked down past the hollow of his throat, I felt his hard cock, still covered by his shorts, pressing against my abs. His hands were running through my hair and across my shoulders and back. One of his legs pressed against my crotch.

I continued down, moving over from his breastbone to his left nipple. I could hear and feel his heart hammering inside his chest. I stuck out my tongue to tickle his nipple, which instantly became erect. Then I laid my whole mouth over it, sucking and kissing while I licked with my tongue.

James gave a strangled yelp, and ground his pelvis hard against my upper abs. I could feel him humping against them, his hard cock spasming through his shorts. He gave a sort of stuttering moan: "Ah-ah, ah-ah-ah.," then collapsed against me, his chest heaving. I held him close.

I wormed my way up his body again, holding him close and putting my stubbly cheek against his deliciously smooth one. After about a minute his breathing quieted. He groaned, "Oh, my God."

I gave him a quick peck on the nose, then pulled my face away so we could see each other. "Good, huh?"

He nodded vigorously, still breathing slightly hard.

"It only gets better from here," I promised solemnly. "We'll just give you a minute or two to recover."

James responded by pressing his groin against mine again. Either he had never softened or he had gotten hard again quickly. It felt like a small bar of steel pressing against my crotch, pushing the wet fabric of his shorts against me.

I moved back down to his chest, once again licking and sucking at his left nipple. James gave a loud, delirious moan at this, and I could hear his heart speeding up again as I did it- obviously his nipples were very sensitive. I moved over to the right nipple, giving it equal treatment. James moaned softly the whole time, saying my name in a groaning undertone, running his hands over shoulders and back. I was so hot I had to pull my crotch away from pressing against his leg so I wouldn't cum.

Moving back up again, I dropped my weight on top of him, pinning him to the bed. I reached for his arms and pushed them up over his head, then dove into his left armpit. Once again I heard the frantic beating of his heart. He squirmed and giggled, but didn't really try to get away, as I licked and kissed. His clean, fresh-smelling armpit was just beginning to sweat from our activity, and he smelled faintly male in a way that was an intense turn-on.

Lifting up my own body to free his, I saw that James' torso was pink and soaked in sweat. Small blushes of delicate red encircled his nipples and painted his upper chest. The color continued and deepened in his face, his cheeks, nose, and eyelids all blushing a vivid red.

I kicked my feet off the bed and dropped to a kneeling position on the floor beside it as I went back down James' body. I traced a trail down his sternum, past his solar plexus, then down to his mostly unformed abs. His belly button was neither an "innie" nor an "outie," sitting almost flush with his skin. I licked and bit at it lightly, and was rewarded with the sight of James' abdominal muscles flexing spasmodically, showing flawless definition.

I pulled my face away for a second, surveying the scene. James still more his cum-soaked black shorts, but the rest of his body flamed red, the alabaster skin stained to a deep port color.

I reached down to his shorts, sliding my hands first into the back of them. Underneath his shorts he wore a pair of baggy boxers, which I also reached inside of. I felt the perfectly rounded globes I had seen before, felt them flex and tighten in my hands as I squeezed. I moved hands around to the front, trying very carefully not to actually touch his cock. I felt the remnants of a copious load of boy cum coating my hands. I gently pulled out on the shorts and slid them down slowly.

The first thing to appear was the purple head of a very hard cock. As he was lying on his back, it pointed straight up at his belly, and was wet with cum and precum. There was a slight flair where the head joined the shaft. The shaft itself appeared next, perfectly straight and about as big around as two fingers. I exposed it slowly. At the three-inch mark I saw a small tuft of flaming red hair, now covered with white cum in a way which reminded me incongruously of strawberry shortcake. At four-and-a-half inches I saw his hairless scrotum, the skin just beginning to darken from the changes of adolescence. This was wrinkled up and pulled close to his body, so I could not see much about his balls. I didn't care.

I swiftly slid the shorts down his legs, throwing them to the floor. I knelt down again and breathed softly on James' cock, watching it jump in time with his heartbeat. Then I took him in my mouth, gently licking his head.

His eyes shot open, and he gasped and slammed his hips up into my face, bruising my cheekbone with his pubic bone and leaving a smear of his earlier cum on my face. Thankfully his cock didn't reach the back of my throat. I closed my lips around his cock and sucked back up, seeking to regain control of the situation.

James had other ideas. Grabbing the back of my head tightly, he proceeded to fuck my face roughly, thrusting his cock in and out like a jackhammer. I almost pulled off and told him to stop...but then I looked up at him. His head was thrown back, his body arching and flailing in ecstasy. I settled for using my hands to slow his hips so he didn't hit my face so hard.

In less than a minute it was over; James ground his loins into my face, squashing my nose against his cum-covered pubic hair. He fired a few shots of cum onto my tongue; I could smell his earlier load while tasting his current one. It was like the sea, salty, but uncomplicated and natural. James didn't shoot much, so I swallowed it all.

His cock started to soften in my mouth, so I pulled off it. James' chest continued to heave up and down in a blissful afterglow. I moved up and hugged him from the side, waiting for him to say something.

This chapter's getting a bit long, so I'm cutting it off here and will finish the rest in the next chapter. Thanks to all those who have replied to my story...feel free to reply again to downward_dog1@yahoo.com.