The Beginning
All the characters in this story are 18+
'Oh, shit,' I swore.
Two of the school's biggest bullies were coming down the hall towards me: Leo Beadie and Del Graham. Seeing me, they let out a whoop of delight, then charged forward, jostling me against the wall, yelling: 'Queer! Gay-boy! Fag!'
'Hey!' a voice rang out.
We all three of us turned. And there he was, this kid called Sean. Handsome and strong, with tan skin and dark golden hair, his muscled body was ripped to perfection. I beat off over him every night.
Seeing him, the two bullies slunk away without another word.
'Are you okay?' Sean asked, his beautiful blue eyes filed with genuine concern.
I nodded, too awe-struck to speak.
'Are you sure?' he persisted.
'I'm okay,' I said, finding my voice at last.
He made to move away, and I knew I'd never get another chance like this.
'Can I help you with your homework?' I blurted out.
A frown creased his face, as if I'd insulted him, suggesting he was nothing but a brainless himbo, but then he grinned.
'Actually, I've got this paper for English ...'
Which is how the next day, Saturday afternoon, I was round at his house, chatting with his mum as we waited for him to get back from rugby practice.
'He won't be long,' she was telling me. 'He likes to jog home. He says it keeps him in shape.'
As if on cue, we heard the back door open, and, a moment later, Sean came padding in, looking incredibly hot in his sports gear.
'Hi, mum,' he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. 'Hi, Grimm. Thanks for coming over. Sorry I'm late. I hope you haven't been waiting long.'
'No. It's fine,' I replied.
'Come upstairs,' he said. 'All my shi-stuff's up there.'
My heart did a little flip. When I'd offered to help him with his homework, I'd been aiming to get some time alone with him, and here he was inviting me up to his bedroom. It was like a wet dream come true.
When we got upstairs, Sean waved me to a chair.
'Take a seat,' he said. 'I've got to have a shower.'
And then, to my amazement, he started stripping off!
I guess when you're a jock, getting naked in front other guys is no big deal, but I was gob-smacked, glad that I had my school bag with me to hide my boner.
He was down to his jockstrap when on the nightstand behind him his cellphone rang. He turned to look at it, giving me a full-on view of his ass. Like all the rest of him it was perfect, all muscular and hairy.
'Nothing important,' he announced, turning back to me.
And that's when it happened, the most amazing thing in my whole entire life up to then. He pulled off his jockstrap, and there it was, pointing right at me, inches from my face: his naked penis. I nearly jizzed my pants.
Totally oblivious to the effect he was having on me, Sean picked up a towel and slung it round his shoulders.
'I won't be long,' he said, heading for the shower.
The instant he was gone, I leaped on his discarded jockstrap. Inside it, in the pouch, was a small, golden hair: one of his pubes. Flicking out my tongue like a lizard, I snarfed it up, before plunging my face into the pouch: sniffing and licking, drinking in the musky smell of his teen-boy crotch.
'Sean!'
His mum's voice calling up the stairs startled me, and I hastily tossed the jockstrap to the floor.
'Sean!' she repeated.
'He's in the shower,' I called back.
'Can you tell him I'm going out? I'll be home about six.'
'Yeah. Sure. Of course.'
'Thank you!'
After that, fighting down the urge to stuff Sean's jockstrap in my bag and take it home to wank in, I explored his room. It was like a shrine to masculinity, with sports photos and trophies everywhere. One of the photos showed him playing rugby; another came from some rock-climbing trip, with him stripped to the waist, proudly showing off his sixpack. Best of all, though, was the one of him on the swim-team, dressed in nothing but a pair of skimpy Speedos. His cock packed the taut material, poking out in front of him like a tentpole.
Down the hall, I heard the shower turning off, and quickly hurried back over to the chair. As I did so, something by the pillow on Sean's bed caught my eye: his swim-trunks, the same ones as in the photo! Obviously, he wore them to sleep in, which I knew was a sex-thing some guys did, loving the feel of their cocks being constricted when they were hard. Buzzed to discover my hero had such a dirty little kink, I imagined him cumming up inside of them, filling them with his goo.
The door opened and Sean reappeared, towel round his waist, his body glistening with water droplets.
'Sorry about that,' he apologized.
'No problem,' I said, as he started toweling off, his penis jiggling up and down, so close I could have touched it.
Suddenly he stopped, peering at himself in the mirror.
'Do you think I look okay?' he asked.
The question floored me. I couldn't believe he didn't know how hot he was. Later, I figured out that, although I had such a huge crush on him, objectively he was just one jock among many: many of them taller, stronger, better-endowed, so that when he compared himself to them, he was worried that he didn't measure up.
'You look great,' I told him.
'Thanks,' he replied, blasting himself with Axe.
Still oblivious to my interest in his naked body, he started getting dressed: red jockey shorts with a white waistband round the top; chinos; and a figure-hugging tee-shirt which proclaimed, 'Give Blood. Play Rugby.' Then, to my surprise, he picked up a small gold crucifix and kissed it, before hanging it round his neck. And with that the show was suddenly over, and we got down to work, with me writing virtually his whole paper for him. It was incredible how dumb he was, although somehow that made him even sexier.
When we were done, I hurried home, straight up to my room, where I enjoyed a long, slow wank, picturing Sean's hard, hairy body tied up and tortured. Because that's what really turned me on, my ultimate fantasy: the thought of him in pain, his sweat-drenched muscles twisting and flexing as he writhed about, screaming in helpless agony.
It was when I was done, basking in the sweet afterglow, that the idea came to me. There was a way I could make Sean suffer, suffer real, real bad. I picked up my cell phone and called this girl I know. ... [TBC]
