Jeremy's Swim Lesson 18

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Jeremy's Swimming Lessons

 Part Eighteen

I sat down in the car and wiped sweat from my forehead with a shaking hand. I tried to swallow, but it took several attempts. I was beyond being merely a nervous wreck.

I kept thinking of the plans for the talk with Mitch, of Mitch, of wearing the ridiculously tiny trunks in public, of boning up in public in those tiny things.

I wished I had never taken those damned swimming lessons. I wished I had never met Chet. I wished I was still spending my time doing chores and homework, ignoring the weird feelings about other boys, and was ignorant of what I was. I wished that Mitch hadn't moved here. I wished I was normal.

But they were all stupid, empty wishes. I'd taken the swimming lessons, I'd met Chet and Howie, I'd had sex with them, and I knew what I was. And Mitch had moved here, and I wasn't normal.

The only question was if Mitch was one of us or not.

And I was going to finally find out today.

I leaned out the window and threw up. Chet had pulled over before I finished tossing my breakfast onto the side of his car.

"Geeze, Jer, you okay?" he asked, patting my back as I heaved a couple last times, producing nothing but wet, sickly belches.

I hung out of the window and groaned, "Oh, God. Sorry, Chet."

He patted and slowly rubbed my back as he said, "It's okay. But did you cover the side of my car?"

I looked down and saw that I had gotten a little on the door.

"Yeah, sorry. Just a little, though."

"I guess you'll be washing my car later."

I sort of laughed, but not much. I belched a couple of times, then took several deep breaths. His hand kept slowly circling on my back.

"You going to be okay now?"

I nodded and said, "I think so." I slipped back inside the car and wiped my mouth.

Just what I needed, barf-breath for the talk with Mitch. Wonderful.

Chet produced a package of gum and handed me a stick. I chewed it and spit out the window a few times.

"Can I start driving, or you going to spew again?"

"Drive, asshole."

He chuckled, put the car back into gear, and we started moving again. My stomach complained, but it wasn't threatening any great rebellion. I kept spitting out the window. He handed me another stick of gum a few blocks from the school. I spat out the first and began the second. I wasn't sure, but I thought my breath was much better.

When we pulled into the school parking lot, Chet handed me another stick of gum. I spat out the second and began chewing the third.

"You're not gonna do that in the pool, are you?" he asked, grinning.

The image made me grin, despite the nerves and the shaking.

"Probably," I answered, grinning a little more.

"At least warn us first. So we can swim for safety."

"Do my best," I promised.

I actually doubted that I'd throw up in the pool. There wasn't anything left to throw up. Or else I wouldn't have been so sure.

"Good. So, you ready?"

No!

I nodded. He opened his door, I opened mine, and we climbed out. He checked out the side of his car. There was only little drips here and there and you could hardly tell. He shrugged at it gave me a shove on my shoulder.

"Won't take you long to wash off," he said. "Carl has a hose by his garage."

"Okay. Sorry."

"No biggie. But seriously, if you're gonna in the pool, say something."

"I won't. Nothing left to upchuck."

We walked toward the natatorium. I was having a hard time keeping a train of thought. The plans for the talk with Mitch mixed with the plans for later at Carl's. Worries that Mitch would be upset and hate us made my guts shiver. Then, when I saw Howie's car, my guts locked up tight.

I remembered that he had something to tell me before the lessons. Something probably about Mitch. I stumbled over my own feet. Chet nearly had to catch me.

"What the hell? You get drunk or something?"

"No. Why? What're you talking about?"

"You puke on my car, and you can't walk straight."

"I'm not drunk."

"You that nervous?"

I nodded at Howie's car.

"Made me remember he wants to tell me something."

"Oh. Well, we won't find out what it is by standing out here. Come on. I'm dying to find out."

I nodded, took a deep breath, held it, then blew it out. I was dying to find out, too. I was sure that I was even more interested in what Howie had to say than Chet ever could be.

When we walked into the pool building, the smell of the warm water and the chlorine, and the echoing sounds of the swimmers, took me right back to that first swimming lesson. I could almost see the three of us sitting right over there, on the side of the pool, their hands on my skin, all over me, and down the front of my old swimming trunks. Their lips on mine. And my feet splashing in the water as I had my first orgasm not entirely of my own doing.

My guts clenched and I started sweating even harder. I almost couldn't walk. I couldn't breathe at all. I knew it wasn't the humid heat. I began panting. I had to sit down. I nearly fell onto the bleachers near the pool. I panted and tried to believe that I wasn't about to pass out in front of all these people.

Chet sat down next to me and asked, "Jer, you okay?"

I nodded, even though it was a lie. I wasn't okay. I was far from okay. I was back at the pool, with Chet. And Howie was there, somewhere. And so was Mitch.

My guts clenched painfully and my breath started wheezing. I became dizzy and weak and nauseated. Chet shoved my head down between my legs and said, "Breathe slow! Just breathe. Just think about breathing. Nothing else."

I did as he said. It seemed to help. After a few seconds I was feeling less like I was about to drop into blackness. After a while, I sat up. Chet and Howie were talking next to me.

"You feeling better?" Howie asked.

I nodded and gave him a small grin.

"What was that about?" Chet asked.

I shook my head at him and said it had been nothing.

"That wasn't nothing."

"It was. I want to hear what Howie has to tell me," I said.

"No," Chet said quickly. "Not until you tell me what that was. What was it?" he asked more insistently.

He stared me down. That was the only way to describe it. His eyes locked on mine and he held them there. I sighed and stared down at my feet for a few seconds.

"I just... I remembered, that first day here. After the swimming lessons. What happened."

My guts churned again and the sweats were back with a vengeance. Just thinking about it was bad enough, but talking about it was even worse. I began panting and became light-headed again.

"Head down," Chet said, pushing me into that position again.

I worked on not passing out. It didn't take long this time before I was breathing better. I lifted my head. They were looking at me. I shrugged. I tried to smile, but it was hard to do.

I was back at the pool! Why hadn't I thought about that before? I was going to see Mitch here, where it had all started. And I was going to be wearing those damned tiny trunks. And there were so many people there! And he was going to be wearing his swimming trunks, and be all wet, and bare-chested. It was going to be absolutely awful!

I started breathing fast again, but I caught it and forced my breathing under control before the dizziness got bad.

I thought about the talk we had planned after the lessons. Howie and Chet making it all but obvious they were homosexuals. That I was going to gauge Mitch's reactions and follow his lead, so that if he wasn't one he wouldn't know I was. And the plans for Carl's, if Mitch went with us after hearing Chet and Howie talk like that.

And now that we were actually at the pool, and Mitch was there as well, the plans were so frightening! It was all I could do to keep myself breathing normally and stay upright. There was nothing I could do to fight the shakes and sweats.

"Come on, Jer. Let's get to the locker room," Chet said, standing up.

Howie stood too. I followed, almost falling over. I was so dizzy and shaky. I walked to the locker room with them in a daze. Mitch could have stepped across my path and I wouldn't have noticed him. Probably. I found myself standing in front of a locker without knowing how I had gotten there.

Chet and Howie were changing. Not changing, but taking off their clothes to reveal their swimming trunks. Those  ridiculously tight, clinging, revealing things. Just like I wore beneath my pants.

I saw how their parts were nearly visible. Like mine would be. But mine would be even more obvious.

I sat down.

"You doing better, Jer?" Chet asked.

"No."

"That bad?" he asked.

"Yes."

"What is?" Howie asked.

"Nerves," Chet said simply. "He'll be better when he's in the water and busy."

"Yeah. Once he's not showing off in those trunks," Howie said with a chuckle.

That only reminded me of the damned trunks.

"Come on, Jer. Get ready. We have to be out there really soon."

They were both ready, waiting on me. I stood up and kicked off my shoes, sat back down and took off my socks and put them inside my shoes, then put my shoes inside the locker. Then I pulled off my shirt. I hung it up. Then I took off my jeans and hung them in the locker. I sighed and looked at them. They were looking at me and grinning.

I took a look at them. They were good looking guys. Chet was lean and slightly muscular, tanned and blond, and very attractive. Howie was stronger, hairier, and his black hair was heavy in many places. His almost olive skin was darker. They were beginning to show erections in their tiny trunks.

"We better get going before it's too embarrassing to go out there," Chet said.

"Too late," Howie said, adjusting himself in his trunks.

His efforts didn't help to hide anything. They laughed, which almost got me to laugh as well. Almost. But at least I wasn't boned up. I was far too nervous to be hard! And scared.

Mitch is out there!

It hit me like lightning. And I was about to walk out there in those tiny, revealing trunks. But, again, at least I wasn't boned up.

And thinking of Mitch being there reminded me of what Howie was supposed to tell me.

"Wait!" I almost shouted as they started walking toward the pool. They turned and looked at me. "So, what is it that you were going to tell me?" I asked almost breathlessly of Howie.

Howie grinned and walked up next to me along with Chet. We all looked around to make sure we were alone.

"Well, we were wrestling around on that mat in his basement. And he had a full-on rager. I mean, really hard. And we kept touching each other's. He's a good wrestler, by the way. He knows this one move where he can get out of a-"

"Shut up about the wrestling moves and tell me!" I almost yelled.

"Okay, fine," Howie said, laughing. "So, I get him down on his back, and run my hand up his leg. All the way to where his shorts start."

The idea of running my hand up Mitch's bare leg, up to his undershorts, oh, my, God! I was fully hard in an instant.

"I couldn't resist, so I grabbed it."

My penis jerked! I mean, it felt like it was about to rip those trunks open and start shooting my semen across the room!

"He grabbed my hand and looked right at me, and he says..."

He waited. He looked right at me. I knew what he was doing, and I thought of giving him a punch on the shoulder like I had Chet, but with full force.

"He says, no, don't."

He waited again, grinning a little, and I nearly leaped past Chet to lay one on him, full force.

"He says, maybe some other time."

Some other time? Not, get away from me you homo? Not, get your hands off me you queer bastard?

"Are you kidding?" I asked.

"No way. He was even smiling! And he stayed hard," Howie said, grinning wider. "He wouldn't talk about anything of the sort, but he wasn't shy about wrestling after that, either. He made quite a few grabs!"

Oh, God.

"The more we wrestled, the more sure I got he's like us."

Oh, God!

"I tried to talk to him about it, but he wouldn't. He's too shy. It's too new to him and such."

"We'll see how much he talks after the lessons, when we hint at things," Chet said. "And we've got that wacky weed to help loosen his tongue later at Carl's."

My legs got wobbly. The sweats had stopped for a while, but now they were back again. I was glad I had already lost my breakfast.

One thought was running through my mind, over and over.

"Maybe some other time."

When I noticed that Chet was snapping his fingers in my face, I blinked and shook my head. Then I looked at him and asked, "What?"

He gave me an odd look, then said, "You looked like you were hypnotized or something."

I didn't meant to say them, but the words just came out. "Maybe some other time."

"What?" Chet asked, a confused expression spreading across his face.

Howie chuckled and elbowed him. Chet's face proved that he suddenly understood, then he grinned at me and said, "Things are looking good for you, Jer!" He slapped my ass. It sounded loud in the locker room, and it stung a bit, too. And it made my privates shift a little in the trunks, which rubbed them against the material, which felt really weird and nice, which caused my softening erection to bounce back to full mast. Which caused me to pant in horror, sweat in embarrassment, shake in fear, and groan in disgust as I put my hands over it.

"Oh, geeze," Howie groaned with a grin. "He boned up again."

"Don't worry, Jer. It'll go down when you walk out there in front of all those girls. They'll all see it otherwise. They'll see how well you're hung and all want to ask you out and find out for themselves if it's really as big as it looks in those trunks. They'll all giggle and snicker and point and turn red. And some will get all wet down there, and when they go home, they'll play with their pussies while thinking about you in your trunks and how big it looked."

I hauled off and punched his shoulder almost as hard as I could. The same shoulder.

"Ow! Fuck!" he yelled as he flinched from head to toes, and grabbed his shoulder, grimacing. "Fucker can hit! Jesus Christ!" Howie laughed. "Not funny! He hits like a boxer!"

"Yeah, looked it. But look at his trunks," Howie said.

It was going down. I sighed in relief.

"That was why I said all that, doofus. So you'd get worried and embarrassed and it would go away," Chet said.

"Thanks," I offered in almost a whisper, embarrassed and worried.

"It's okay. So, now you're not showing seven inches of meat, let's get out there before Howie and I are late. We'll go talk to the coaches. You go ahead and dive in and hang out in the corner by the doors. We'll be out there in a few minutes."

"Okay."

I felt a little bad that I had hit Chet when he was only trying to help me out. I was really glad he had done that. I wasn't hard now, but it wasn't all soft, either. But at least I could pretend that I wasn't a horn-dog and be showing a bone. I let myself worry as I walked out with them, keeping it soft. I walked straight to the corner of the pool and stepped off into the water, glad to be under the cover of it. I hitched my arms over the sides and put my back into the corner and looked around for Mitch.

There were about thirty kids swimming on the other side of the divider that ran the length of the pool. They were mostly seventh- and eight-graders. Younger kids were only allowed with their parents in the morning. A few looked like they were in high school, and I only recognized two of them. They weren't friends of mine. Most were boys, maybe ten were girls, and the girls were all younger than high school age.

The group of kids messing around on this side of the pool were mostly younger than me, and most were in the shallow water at the other end of the pool. There were about a dozen of them, mostly in groups of two or three. All were boys. Two of the biggest guys were probably in high school, and I was almost sure I had seen them at school. One was really skinny and had bright blond hair, the other was pudgy with black hair. They seemed to be friends and looked like they were having fun.

And no one was Mitch.

I looked around at the people sitting on the bleachers. There were maybe twenty people sitting around in little groups of two or three. Mostly girls. The only boys were probably in middle school, and obviously not Mitch.

As I floated there, held up by my arms over the edge of the pool, I felt something really... really strange. The material of those trunks had always felt strange, and kind of weirdly nice, but now they were wet, and I was sort of kicking my legs. And that movement in those wet trunks felt... just... oh, geeze! It almost tickled. It felt like the trunks were trying to crawl off of me! Or all over me! They squirmed against my prick, and over my sack, and all around my ass. They felt alive! Oh, my, God, did they feel... holy shit!

I got erect, and as it grew, it rubbed against the material even more. That made it grow even faster! And that made the trunks even tighter. The material seemed to almost wriggle over the skin of my prick. And as it got bigger, the trunks got tighter and cradled my nuts even tighter. It was maddeningly tickly and wriggly and tingly! Oh, my, God!

Those trunks were boner-makers! They seemed designed to make boys hard, especially when they got wet! It was insane! Erotic and stimulating in a new, fantastic, intense way.

And that weird pressure above my prick was back. And growing. It was torture! The trunks made it hard, and they felt awesome all over it and my balls, and now my ass. And that weird new sensation of internal pressure made it all even more intense.

I was shivering, and the water wasn't even slightly chilly. In fact, the water was very warm. And that added even more.

I was in hell!

I had to think of something else. Anything else.  

I scanned everyone there again. Other than the coaches, Chet, and Howie, there was no one else I recognized. No Mitch. The guys around me had fun and seemed normal. They had no idea that a homosexual was boned up in the water with them.

I kept looking around for Mitch, but I didn't see him by the time the coaches, Chet, and Howie joined the small group around the corner of the pool. One of the coaches blew a whistle.

"Okay, everyone here for swimming lessons, meet here!" one of the coaches called out loudly as he stood at the corner of the pool at the shallow end. "Everyone else, stay on the other side of the ropes."

I pushed off and tried to remember how to do the stroke on top of the water where you use your arms like windmills. I wasn't moving very well at all, and took a while to get there. The coach waited for me before he started telling us what we were going to be doing for the next hour.

Then we were divided into four groups, and they moved us apart a bit. I was with Chet, thank God, and the two older boys I'd noticed earlier. As we moved to stay with Chet, I recognized the pudgy guy as Charlie Goodwin from my history class. We nodded at each other and smiled a little.

"Okay, guys," Chet said when we were all a few feet down the side of the pool where the water was about four feet deep, nearly covering my nipples as we stood up. Chet's nipples were clearly visible as he stood in the water in front of us. Charlie, who was shorter, had water nearly to his neck. His friend was a bit taller, and cuter,. and his nipples were under the surface, but barely.

I immediately shoved any thoughts of cuteness away.

"We're going to see how everyone floats, first. I need to know you can before we try learning any strokes. So, put both hands on the side of the pool and bring your legs up and just float on your backs. Like this." 

He moved to the side of the pool between the other two guys and me and demonstrated. His tight trunks pushed his bulge to the surface of the water.

Geeze! I was still totally erect! And there was no way it was going away so long as I was wearing those fucking trunks. They felt too good!

Chet moved back out away from the edge of the pool and watched as the other two boys did as he did. He looked at me and waited. I saw his subtle little grin, and I knew what he knew, and I almost hated him right then. I grimaced and did it. I glanced at the other two boys and they were watching Chet, so I had hopes that they wouldn't notice my boner.

"Good. Now, everyone let go of the side, pull your legs off the bottom of the pool, and tread water." We did. "Great. Keep doing that."

We did. He pulled the little goggles down over his eyes and then ducked under to probably made sure our feet weren't on the bottom. I knew he could see I was hard. We kept treading water. He stayed down. We started looking at each other. We all were thinking the same thing. Obviously.

"He drown?" Charlie asked.

I could see him in front of us, near the bottom. The surface of the water was rough from our efforts, so it was hard to tell if he was moving or not, or what he was doing. Finally, he started moving along in front of us, left to right, then came up in front of us again.

"Great. No one used their feet on the bottom." He wasn't even breathing hard. "Now, come out from the side of the pool about a foot." He waited until we did. "Great. Now, follow me in a circle, doing just what you're doing." It was awkward and seemed silly, but we followed him in a small circle three times. "Okay, in a line near the edge again." One we were, he stood up again.

He demonstrated how to use our arms, then had us copy him. Every movement made my dick rub against that material, and kept me hard. It felt so insanely great rubbing on my skin. All of my skin, from the tip of my pecker to the shaft, to the skin of my sack, to my ass cheeks. Just fucking... weirdly great!

Then we swam out to the rope in the middle of the pool and back, doing that stroke. Then he showed us how to use our legs. Then how to do them both together. Then we swam to the rope and back again. I could almost feel the water rushing past my gonads on the other side of the trunks. It felt great!

We did that with several kinds of strokes. He would demonstrate, watch us and give us tips, then we would do that stroke out to the floating dividing rope and back.

Whenever I could, I looked around as casually as I could, looking for Mitch. I couldn't find him. I was actually kind of glad of that. At least he wouldn't see me boned up in those ridiculous trunks. I kept my eyes off of Chet's awesome, wet, shiny body, and his legs, and his package. I didn't think about that stuff at all. I kept my mind on the swimming lessons. But I stayed hard.

Before I knew it, we were done! I'd learned five different strokes, and could do them well enough to get to the rope and back again more than once. We were all amazed. There wasn't anything to it!

"Now, guys, I want you to swim to the far end of the pool and back here. One at a time. I'll go along with you, by your side."

"Over the deep water?" Charlie's skinny friend asked.

"Yup. Just like you did right here in the middle."

"But-"

Chet cut him off with, "But nothing. There's nothing different to it at all. You'll float and swim all the same, no matter how much water is below you. How deep it is means nothing. It can be a thousand feet of water, and it's the same as when you can just stand up."

"But if I get a cramp or-"

"I'll be next to you. And you won't. If you were going to, you would have already. So, how about Jeremy, you go first. First stroke, freestyle."

He hadn't asked, he'd said it. I nodded and pushed off, turned to face the deep end, and started swimming for it. It was hard to exhale under the water. It wasn't normal to do that, but I managed to. It was also difficult to inhale when I turned my head, but I sort of got into a groove by the time we were back with the others.

"Good job, Jer! Now, how about Charlie."

"Okay."

I watched him swim for the deep end, stop at the edge, turn around, and swim back, Chet stayed just a foot from him the whole way, never swimming, just sort of sliding through the water, never taking his eyes off of him. Charlie was all grins by the time he came to a stop in front of the rest of us and stood up.

After we had all made the swim down to the deep end using each of the styles we had learned today, Chet congratulated us on being great students and told us to either swim around and have fun or climb out.

Climb out? HAH! No fucking way! Everybody would point and laugh!

I floated to the corner of the pool at the deep end and looked around. I looked at each and every person there. No one was Mitch. My stomach fell. Chet swam up beside me and seemed to simply glide through the water. He was so smooth and agile in the water.

"I haven't seen him, have you?" he asked. I shook my head without looking up from my legs dangling in the water. "Howie said he said he was coming."

I was sure he had figured Howie out, and knew that Chet was too, and figured that since I was friends with them and hung out with them that I was too. And he knew better than to have anything to do with the sick, homosexual perverts. He was at home, probably trying to figure out how to change his seat in the classes we had together. Probably figuring out where to sit in homeroom on Monday morning. I knew he would end up telling everyone, sooner or later.

It was enough to wilt the boner even in those trunks.

Howie swam up, doing the same elegant, agile movements that Chet had and settled into position on the other side of me from Chet.

"I know he said he was coming," Howie said. "Hell, he seemed to be looking forward to it a lot. Especially seeing Jer." 

I didn't want to talk about it. I just wanted to go home. I pulled myself up and out of the pool and walked toward the locker room. Howie and Chet caught up to me and walked on either side of me. I felt like the time my folks had taken me to the county fair when I was about ten or so, and a huge, nasty storm blew up just as we pulled into the parking lot. I had been looking forward to it for weeks! And it was the last day. It hailed, lightning crashed, thunder boomed, and some tents blew down and some roofs were torn up, and all kinds of things blew around in the parking lot. When it cleared up, guys came around to say there was too much mess and damage and the fair would be closed.

As I walked into the locker room, I felt just as I had almost five years ago. I felt empty and denied. As if I'd been teased with something awesome, only to have it yanked away as I reached for it and seen it crushed underfoot.

"Maybe he got held up doing chores or something at home," Chet said.

"Yeah, probably," Howie said.

I knew better. I wished they would just shut up.

"Well, let's get dried off and head to the diner for a burger, I'm starved," Chet said. "Then we can head over to Carl's. Stop and check on Mitch on the way."

I just wanted to go home. I just wanted to be alone. I looked up to say so as we turned around the corner of the doors and into the locker room.

I saw Mitch walking out a row of lockers. He had a towel over his bare shoulder, and was wearing the cutest blue trunks I'd ever seen. Not small and tight like ours, but more like ordinary shorts, just smaller, with pockets and all. And his legs! And his chest! And his tummy!

He saw us, he waved, and I saw the shadow of his short hair under his arms. And he smiled so cutely! I stopped dead in my tracks. He started jogging toward us, waving and grinning.

My guts warmed up and my breath almost locked in my chest. My heart hammered. Small little tremors flitted through my muscles from head to toe. He was simply stunning. Beauty defined.

"Hey, guys!" he called as he closed in on us. Then he sort of stumbled a bit and his eyes got huge. He pretty much just stared at us. He blushed. "Uh... uh, hi. Uh... sorry... uh, Dad's car is a pile of junk. Sort of just dies sometimes and takes forever to start again."

He looked at us like we were standing there naked. He blushed darkly, and his grin was so embarrassed I was embarrassed for him. His eyes seemed to flit all around the locker room, never resting anywhere for more than a second. It was like he had to see every little detail of everything around us. Even us. I did almost the same thing. I didn't want him to notice that I wanted to just stare at him in his adorable little blue swim shorts.

"Smell like gas?" Howie asked.

"Uh, what?" Mitch asked, then looked at Howie and said, "Uh, yeah. It does."

"I bet you need the carb rebuilt," Howie said.

"Oh. Uh... okay. Can you fix cars?"

"Sure can. I'll have a look if your dad likes."

"Uh... sure... uh... I'll ask him sometime."

Mitch kept looking at us weirdly, his eyes moving rapidly to every corner of the room and all around us and at us. He slid the towel off his shoulder and held it in both hands, twisting it in front of him like he was nervous or something. He kept looking at me like he was expecting me to say something. I didn't have a clue what, but he kept doing it. And it was only when I noticed where he kept looking really quickly that I understood.

I was standing there in those damned tight trunks, dripping wet, and boned. I'd gotten hard when I first saw him, and I hadn't even thought about him seeing it. I'd been too busy trying not to stare at him in his cute trunks, or at his bare chest, or at his awesome legs, or his adorable face. I had kept looking around, not wanting to be seen staring at him, not even thinking of where he had been looking. And now that I noticed, I was humiliated.

"Ummm... so... are the lessons over?" he asked, nearly stumbling on the words as I did my best to wish my boner would vanish in the blink of an eye.

He glanced down there. I looked at the clock. I was so humiliated that my erection was waning rapidly. Thank God!

"Yeah. No biggie though. Want to go grab a burger with us?" Chet asked him.

"Ummm, uh... sure. In our trunks?"

Oh, hell no!!!

"Didn't you wear your clothes here?" Chet asked him, beginning to walk toward our lockers.

"No, just the trunks."

"Well, we brought our street clothes. Going to change into them after a shower," Howie said.

"Oh," Mitch said, and I heard him swallow.

Mitch seemed to be confused as he looked at me, then looked at Chet and Howe, then back at me. I was just standing there, Chet and Howie were walking toward the lockers we had used. I felt like an absolute moron. I swallowed and started following them. Mitch fell in beside me. I had no idea what to say. I was still so humiliated he'd seen me boned up in those fucking trunks.

"Ummm, uh, Jeremy?"

"Yeah?" I asked without looking away from my feet as I walked.

"Ummm, well, nice trunks."

"Huh?"

I looked up at him instantly. He was so red-faced! And grinning so cutely. He could hardly look at me.

"Ummm, just.... uh... nice trunks."

"Uh, borrowed them. Mine got... uh, thrown away."

"Outgrow 'em?" he asked, and laughed weirdly.

I couldn't look at him again as I said, "Sort of."

He snickered. I wanted to compliment his swim shorts, but I didn't know how to without sounding like I had noticed them. They were wonderful! They didn't hide that he had quite a bit inside of them at all, but they didn't push it out and expose it like the ones I was wearing. They were a nice blue, too. And they looked as if they were tailored to his body. I couldn't bear the thought of his ass in them. Even that tiny thought of his butt in those shorts started another erection, but it didn't have a chance to grow before the horror of his seeing it made it go away.

When we got to the lockers, Chet and Howie were already naked and walking toward the showers, talking and acting as if it were just another ordinary day in gym class or something. That view of their asses reminded me of the night at the hotel. Another erection started, but again, the horror of it being seen kept it from growing.

I opened the locker and quickly pulled out my jeans and pulled them on. I didn't even bother drying off.

"You're not going to take a shower?" Mitch asked.

"Ummm, no."

"Oh."

He sat down and waited as I got dressed in record time. We were sitting there in silence as Chet and Howie came back, laughing and shoving each other, and boned up. I could have died! I looked down at my feet and waited while they talked and laughed and got dressed.

"I still say you'd love it," Chet said to Howie.

"Might. Might have to try it sometime," Howie said, laughing.

"What?" Mitch asked.

They didn't say anything, and I didn't look up to see anything. Mitch gasped and they both laughed. I knew that they had gotten started. I tried to swallow and breathe at the same time and ended up choking.

"Imagine if you tried on Jer," Mitch said, his voice sounding like he was nearly laughing.

"I think I'd choke on it," Chet said, also sounding like he was nearly laughing.

I stared at the floor and wished I would die. They had talked quietly, and I could hear lockers closing and other voices, mostly fading away. They talked, mostly normally, and about sports and such as they got dressed.

"I'm so hungry, I could eat a horse," Chet said, closing the locker.

"Run, Jer!" Howie laughed.

Mitch laughed. Chet laughed. I wanted to kill them. Except Mitch. I wanted to apologize and tell him that he didn't have to ever talk to me again if he didn't want to.

"Let's go," Chet said, shaking his keys.

I stood up and followed them. Mitch fell back and walked beside me. Chet and Howie talked normally until we got outside.

"Hey, Chet. You should see Mitch's dork. Like a fucking sausage. He's probably the same size as Jer."

Mitch gasped. I cringed.

"You really hung like a horse, too?" Chet asked.

Mitch didn't reply. Mitch and I had compared dorks in front of Chet, so Chet knew what we both had. He'd talked to us about ours. Obviously Chet hadn't told him, or he had and they were trying to make it look like he hadn't. or were just using it to do what they had planned to do.

"Shy," Howie said. "If I had that thing, I'd brag about it as often as I could."

"Well, you've seen Mitch's, and I've seen Jer's," Chet said matter-of-fact. "Maybe we should get Jer to show you his, and Mitch to show me his."

"That'd be fair," Howie said. "How about it guys?"

They both turned around and walked backward in front of us. It was obvious they both had erections. I could have just died! Right there and then, in mid-stride. Just dropped fucking dead.

Mitch was so red-faced I thought he was going to run away. Huge eyes, big, open mouth, and even his ears were deeply red. He stared at me for a moment. I stared back at him, hoping I looked as shocked as he did.

"Don't look likely," Chet said almost sadly.

"Too bad," Howie said with a shrug.

They turned around to face the direction we were walking again. Mitch and I stared at each other in shock.

Chet said, "Wish I'd jerked off this morning. I've got a boner that would gag a camel."

"Me too. Maybe we can jerk off when we get to Carl's."

"Hope so. Want to together again?" Chet asked.

"Sure. Just don't be shocked if I reach over and help out this time."

"Don't be shocked if I do, too," Howie said, not laughing at all, but completely seriously.

I heard Mitchell panting. Breathing fast and loud. My heart was hammering so hard that I worried he could hear it.

"Wanna ride with me, or Chet and Jer?" Howie asked without looking over his shoulder.

"Uh..." Mitch looked at me, then away. "Uh..."

"You probably want to talk to Jer, so ride with Chet. I'll follow. See you guys there."

He headed toward his car. When we got to Chet's car, I hoped that Mitch didn't ask what the weird drips were on the door. I opened it quickly to hopefully hide the stains, then held the seat forward so Mitch could climb into the back. Those swimming trunks made his ass look so perfect! It was all I could do not to reach out and touch it!

I climbed in, feeling another erection threatening, Chet started the car, and we started the short ride to the diner in town. I hoped Chet would stay quiet. No such luck.

"So, Mitch. Get an eyeful of Jer here in those swim trunks?"

Oh, God!

"Ummm, yeah."

He sounded sort of angry. I was afraid to look in back and see him glaring at us with hatred.

"Ever seen a pair of trunks so stuffed?"

Mitch didn't reply. I wished Chet would shut up. I tried to give him a glare without letting Mitch see it, but Chet didn't look my way once.

"I can't believe Howie said that. I almost said I'd seen you both, but I didn't know what you guys would do if I did. I didn't want to make you guys angry or anything."

Too late, I thought. And hoped that Mitch wasn't as angry as I was. Or as humiliated.

"So how did Howie get a look at yours, Mitch?"

I wanted to kill him! Chet, that is. For asking that, and for keeping on goading like that.

"We wrestled," he said, still sounding like he might be angry.

"Oh. Shit. Yeah. You got to watch his hands when you wrestle him. They go everywhere!"

Chet laughed. I wanted to hit him so bad! Then I heard Mitch laugh a little. I wasn't sure, so I had to glance back, just to make sure it was laughter and not him choking back a scream of anger.

He was smiling! And he looked like he could bust into laughter at any second! I felt my mouth drop open. He looked at me and seemed to get shy or something and look away. He was blushing so darkly and grinning so widely!

And so fucking cute!

And his legs poking out of those shorts! And his bare chest! He had the towel in his lap, or I would have taken the chance to look there. I turned around to face the front again. I lost some of my anger. Knowing that Mitch wasn't upset took a lot of pressure and worry off of me.

"I guess if I was wrestling with you, I'd do the same thing," Chet said smoothly.

I heard Mitch gasp a little, and snicker a bit. I grinned.

"Ever grab Jer's?" Mitch asked.

"Oh, hell yeah," Chet said as if he'd asked if he'd ever wrestled anyone. Mitch snickered again.

"Jer here has a great little body. Not to say anything about his body is little, though!"

Oh, God, did I want to punch him!

"But you know that. You guys compared that day at my place. Almost identical down there. Fucking lucky bastards."

I glanced back at Mitch out of some kind of reaction or instinct, not thinking to at all. He was still grinning and blushing. And he looked right at me and smiled even wider! A different kind of smile than his usual one. More... shy, and cute, and... adorable!

I swear to God my heart melted. I felt it get warm and feel softer and just fuzzy and tingly. It was hard to breathe all of a sudden. I whipped my head back around, afraid I would give something away. I had to force myself to breathe and not get dizzy again.

"When Howie and I compared dicks about your guys' ages, we were about the same size, too. Shorter than you guys, of course. Howie was a little thicker than me, though, but I was a little longer than him. Still like that. He's thicker, I'm longer."

Cripes! Shut up already!

I was dying! My heart was having trouble working and my lungs were shutting down! I was having a heart attack or something!

"Who's got bigger balls?" Mitch asked.

"I do," Chet said simply.

"Always have?"

"Yup. Howie's got a nice set, but mine hang lower and are bigger."

"Nice."

Nice? Nice? Mitch said, nice? About Chet having bigger nuts?

Is he?

My guts clenched and tightened, making my heart feel even more strained and my lungs even more cramped.

"Weird thing is, Howie cums a lot more than I do. Almost always. He shoots tons!"

I tried to swallow, but all I did was choke! And that made me feel conspicuous and stupid.

"He said he hits his face. Like you said at your place. Does he?"

Mitch! How can you ask that?

"Sure does. Most of the time. He fires a lot and really far. Especially if it's been a couple of days since he got off last."

"I wish I could shoot that far."

Mitch! How can you talk like that?

"You will. You're only fourteen. By eighteen, you'll be hitting your own face all the time."

Mitch snickered loudly.

"Jer here, too. And with the monsters you guys have, you'll be able to stick the end of it in your own mouths and give yourselves head."

"Oh, shit!" Mitch said loudly. "Can a guy really do that?"

"James Garnet can. Showed some guys he could for a bet."

"Oh, wow!" Mitch said, awe clear in his voice. "I'd so love to be able to do that!"

Hearing Mitch and Chet talk like that was just too much! I sat there, eyes locked forward, unable to shift a muscle. I was actually petrified! And one phrase kept going through my mind, over and over.

"Maybe some other time."

Then another thing he'd said at school rang through my thoughts.

"I'd rather... rather do it with a guy."

I had to force myself to breathe. I had to force my muscles to keep me upright. I couldn't even focus my eyes.

He's got to be. He's got to be!

"I can probably get him to for you. He's a good friend. He sometimes comes to a poker party I go to at this guy's house on Fridays. He'd do it for another bet, I'm sure."

"Oh, geeze. That would be so cool!"

Oh, my, god! He has GOT to be!

"Maybe next weekend?"

"Okay. You ever take Jer to that poker game?"

"Uh, actually, yeah. He's been there. Howie and me are thinking about going to that guy's house later to play some poker. You guys wanna go with us? James won't be there, just Carl."

"Jer? Wanna go?" Mitch asked me.

"Uhhh..."

"Come on, Jer. You know Carl. We can go after the diner. What'd'ya say?" Chet asked, looking at me, grinning and bouncing his eyebrows.

"Uhhh..."

"Come on, Jer. I love poker. Haven't played since I moved."

His pleading voice was simply irresistible. I knew not to turn around and look at him. But I did.

Adorable!

I started panting and getting dizzy.

He bit his lower lip as he grinned and asked, "Wanna?"

Oh, God! Did I wanna! I wanted to climb over the back of the seat and tear those cute swimming trunks off of him and make him shiver and quake and scream and grunt and groan and sweat and...

"Please? I don't want to go if you don't."

"Yeah. Sure. Okay."

He smiled even wider. He reached up and patted my shoulder and said, "Great! Thanks!" and smiled even wider still. And his hand sort of lingered on my shoulder. Then it left, but he dragged his fingertips over my upper arm as he pulled his hand back. He grinned even wider!

"Okay," I said again.

I couldn't turn away from him. He didn't look away either. And I still couldn't look away from him His face. His grin. His chest. His tummy. His legs. Him.

He just had to be!

"We're here," Chet said. "I'm ready for some hot meat. How about you guys?"

Mitch gasped and grinned, and I punched Chet's shoulder. The same one I'd already hit twice. Chet flinched and cried out, "Ouch! Damn it. You're gonna make it sore!"

"Bet you've said that to Howie once or twice," Mitch said, and started laughing.

Chet swung his head around, looked at Mitch, and laughed, then said, "Not about my shoulder."

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