Jason Slade

The first time I saw Jason Slade, he had stopped his exercise routine to answer the ramblings of some giggly women who obviously came to the fitness center to hunt for husbands.  He laughed and joked with them as he threw furtive glances at a gym rat who had walked over to join the conversation.  The rat had bulging muscles everywhere, but it was the bulge between his legs that he kept attending as he watched Jason closely.  I saw Jason notice and smile.

Eventually, the women moved on, but the man stayed for a few moments longer.

The two of them spoke for a moment longer before the man walked off toward the locker room.  He looked back at Jason twice before disappearing into the corridor.  I saw Jason retie his shoe before casually walking to the locker room.  I knew exactly what they were doing, so I followed them.

I wasn’t into picking up guys in the exercise room.  OK, I wasn’t successful at picking up guys in the exercise room.  To be honest, I wasn’t successful anywhere.  At six feet tall and one-hundred forty pounds, I was hardly any man’s dream.  My nose was crooked, my ears too big, my lips too thin.  My hair was straight and would not take a part anywhere.  I hated it.  I wanted a hairy chest--my ideal of masculine--and not a single strand grew.  My underarms looked like I trimmed the hair to about an inch, and my tiny little bush looked like I shaved every day.  I’d never grown any hair on my scrotum.  My doctor said that some guys just don’t and that there was nothing wrong with me.

Except, I was lonely.  I was only able to go to college because this university was attempting to start a badminton program, and it was the one sport at which I excelled.  There were only two men on the badminton team, and the other member spoke to me only when he had to.  He was six-one and at least one-eighty.  He had a great body and was handsome.  He was also arrogant as shit and didn’t like that I beat him every time we played.  He was into girls, anyway.  I caught him with his dick in one in the laundry room of the gym.  I made a big deal about being ‘shocked’ by his indiscretion, even though I couldn’t have cared less.

I reminded myself that I was there to get an education, the first in my family to do so.  I grew up in a dilapidated farmhouse with six brothers and three sisters.  The house and land had belonged to my mother’s aunt, and she inherited it at eighteen because her aunt had no children.  Momma made up for that.  She’d still be having kids if the doctor hadn’t insisted that Poppa get fixed before he killed Momma with another child.

When I was told that I was getting a scholarship to go to the university, I was ecstatic.  I knew the job opportunities would be better for me, and I would have an opportunity to have sex and find love.  In my hometown, guys had been beaten up, whether straight or gay, on a rumor or innuendo.  I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

As I stepped stealthily into the locker room, I searched for Jason and the muscle man who couldn’t keep his hand away from his own crotch.  They had disappeared.  I stopped and listened.  A barely-there giggle drew me to an employees-only area opposite the showers.  Peeking around the corner,  I saw the muscle man on his knees.  His head moved back and forth, but Jason was angled in such a way that I only saw the top of his ass crack.  I rubbed my crotch.

The man on his knees began to jerk himself as he sucked.  Tiny moans emanated from the room.  I watched for almost two minutes before I saw Jason put his hand on the man’s head and jerk forward.  Penis juice rolled down the man’s chin, and he pulled back with a cough.

“Fuck, man.  No warning?”

“How about this?” said Jason.  “Next time bring a condom, and I’ll fuck your ass the way you wanted.”  Jason pulled his shorts back up, and I hurried away.  He walked toward the showers, and I headed back to my room where Jason played in my fantasies while I took care of emptying my balls.

The second time I saw Jason Slade, he was getting on a bus to go to a practice meet for the baseball, tennis, and badminton teams.  He sat behind me.  The trip was only an hour, but he and his seat buddy wasted no time talking about their conquests.  I found it interesting that all of Jason’s conquests had female names despite my having seen one of his conquests.  And when his friend mentioned that a particular woman on the volleyball team had a tight pussy, Jason laughed and said, “Hey bro, when you’ve got a dick as thick as mine, all pussies are tight.”

I felt a tingle between my legs, but I wondered whether he was making it up.  I decided that it didn’t matter because I would never have a chance with a guy like him.  I pulled my math homework out of my bag; I figured it was a better use of my time than listening to two jocks bragging about banging girls.

When we arrived at the sports complex, the baseball players were whisked away to start their game.  The coach told Randy and me that players from the second-year badminton class as well as their badminton team were playing; the most successful players would have three matches before the final.  He told us to follow him.

“I’m going to so whip your fucking ass today,” smirked Randy.

When we got to the courts, a quick review of the playboard told me that I’d meet Randy in the third round if we were both successful.  Once I started playing, I was concerned that I wouldn’t make it out of the first round.  My opponent was good; he was quick.  At one point, I returned the shuttlecock with such force that it ricocheted off his racket and knocked the racket from his hand.

I clearly heard him say, “Fuck!”

We were called to the official who looked at my opponent and instructed us that foul language was a sign of poor sportsmanship and reason enough to be disqualified.  I did not want him disqualified; I wanted to beat him.  “I’m sorry,” I said, “I heard an expression of surprise at his losing his racket.”

The judge turned to me.  “You did not hear an expletive?”

I took a deep breath.  “I heard something like ‘Ugggh.’  I’m willing to wait while you confer with others, but I would prefer continuing to play.”

The judge smiled.  “Continue play.”

We resumed the game, and I’m not sure how, but I was able to win the match.  Afterward, my opponent, named Steven Miller, shook my hand and said, “Thanks for earlier.”

“I wanted to play it to the end.  I’m sure the voiceless labio-dental fricative that you expressed before saying ‘ugggh’ was caused by breathing out while you positioned your racket.”  I smiled.

He smiled back and lowered his voice.  “I’m a linguistics major.  You are fffffucking fffffunny.”

“And I can’t wait to play you again.  My coach is coming.  I’ll see you around.”  

I walked over to Coach Evans.  “How’d you do?”

“I barely made it.  That guy is good.”

“Well, I want you to rest before your next one, but don’t let your muscles seize up.  Randy was slaughtered… and by some inept kid who looked as though he’d had one lesson.

My next two matches went down easily.  I contemplated eating something; I’d been drinking a lot of water and sweating moderately.  We were inside where it was air-conditioned.  The coach handed me a protein bar and some Gatorade.  I wished Randy had not blown it in the first round.  If I were about to play him, then our school would be assured a victory.

When I walked onto the court for the final match, I felt as though I were back in high school.  The bleachers were filled, and people were screaming.  My opponent looks remarkably familiar.  The announcement came over the loudspeakers, “David Miller playing Parker Atwell.”  It turned out to be the twin brother of my earlier opponent.

I came out swinging as they say.  I didn’t let up.  David Miller couldn’t catch a break, and I won both games and the match.  I was exhausted.  Several of the baseball players came up to me to pat me on the back.  Jason wasn’t among them.

Coach Evans was walking up to me when a couple of the baseball guys invited me to go with them to McDonald's as we waited for the tennis team to finish.  “Best not,” I replied.

“You can go with them, Atwell,” said the coach.

“I think I’ll head back to the bus.  That took a lot out of me.  I guess I need to work on conditioning.”

“I’ll bring you back something, then,” smiled Coach.  “Filet-o-Fish or Nuggets?”

Could he tell that I had no money? I wondered.  “Nuggets, thanks.”  I nodded and then headed back to the bus.  I noticed groups of people everywhere, laughing and enjoying themselves.  I walked alone; it was my own choice.  I could have gone with the other guys.  But I really was tired.

The third time I saw Jason Slade, I was about to sit down in my seat on the bus when he climbed up the steps and smiled.  “Hey, bro,” he said as he lifted his chin.

“Hey, Jason,” I returned.

“Saw you play.”

“You did?”  I sucked my lower lip into my mouth.

“Yeah.” He stepped closer to me.  “It was fucking awesome.  I couldn’t believe how fast you moved… and the way you smacked that birdie.  I’ve never seen a real badminton match.”

“Thanks.”  I sat down.  

He sat next to me.  “I didn’t realize how physically demanding it is.  I guess I thought it was a game for pussies.”  He paused for a moment.  “You’ve got the bluest eyes.  They’re like crystals.”

His eyes were emeralds, but I didn’t tell him that.  I simply stared into them.

“Sorry,” he said and looked away.  “That made it sound as though I were hitting on you.”

“Weren’t you?” I asked.

“Look,” he said as he leaned his head back on the headrest.  “I’ve fucked a lot of guys at this school, and I’ll admit that skinny guys are not the kind of guy I go for, but you are hot.  The way you moved on that court made my dick hard.  And just so you know, I’ve only been fucked once, and that was in high school when I was figuring things out.  But today… today, I would have grabbed onto that net and let you ravage my ass.”

“I don’t think I would have had the energy.”

“You’re funny.  I wouldn’t have actually done it, but maybe later.  You want to play around when we get back to school.”

“You mean after you’ve showered?” I asked.

“Yeah, you smell a little too manly for me, too,” Jason replied.

“And would you walk around campus with me?  Holding my hand, of course.”

“Fuck no.  What do I look like?”  He paused for a moment.  “You’d want me to hold your hand?”  He looked over at me to catch me looking at him.  “I’ve never held anyone’s hand, not like that anyway.”  He looked down at his hand.  He held it out toward me, and I interlaced my fingers with his.  

I leaned over against him before resting my head on the top of his shoulder.  I closed my eyes.  The last thing I remember before falling asleep was his saying, “For a skinny dude, you sure are sexy.”

“Atwell!  Slade!”

I opened my eyes.  My hand was still clasped to Jason’s, and his head now rested on mine.  His head jerked up.  Coach Evans was standing in the aisle next to us.  I looked up at him.

“I had no idea you two were an item.”  I couldn’t tell whether he was angry or simply perturbed that we hadn’t told him.

“We just met,” said Jason.

Coach looked down at our hands; our fingers were still interlaced.  “Some guys have all the fun.  I brought you some nuggets, Atwell.”

“Thanks, Coach.”  I reached for them with my free hand.

“Maybe it’s not my place to say this, but then Parker, I am your coach.  There are rumors that you, Jason, have been getting a lot of… bedroom experience, shall we say.”

Jason squirmed some in his seat.   “I’ve always used protection, sir.”

“And I promise,” I said, “that if anything goes beyond this, that I’ll be safe.”

Coach Evans nodded.  “You’re one of my star players, Parker.  You have to take care of yourself.  And you,” he put his hand on Jason’s shoulder, “need to take care of yourself, and if you two are going to be together, you need to take care of each other.  That’s the only way you’ll make it.”  He turned and left us alone on the bus.

We were quiet for a bit.  

“He thinks we’re a couple,” said Jason.  “I’m not sure I’m ready for that, um…”

I squeezed my fingers together.

“But,” he continued, “maybe I should be.”  He turned to look at me.

I smiled at him.

“Talk to me, don’t just smile with those cute dimples.”

“I’m attracted to you, Jason.  I mean, really attracted.  Could there be more?  I… uh…”

“Are you worried that I just want to notch my belt, you know, have a hot fuck session and then move on?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.  I saw you at the exercise room recently.”

“You saw me go off with that guy?”

“Yeah, Jason.  I did.  He was hot, and he was willing.”

“You know, Parker,” he turned his face away from me.

“Wait, just a second.  Listen, it doesn’t matter how many guys you fucked.  That’s before now.”  He turned back to face me.  “I just don’t want to date someone who’s playing around.  I guess I want someone who just focuses on me that way I’d be focused on him.”

“I promise to focus on you until you tell me to stop.”

“What if I never tell you to stop?”  I squeezed my fingers again.

“Then I’ll know I’ve found the right guy.”

“Will you stay with me tonight?” I asked.

A big grin came into view just as we heard a commotion outside the bus.  I let go of his hand just as several guys entered the bus.  “Our secret for now,” I whispered.

As the guys took their seats and the coaches did a roll call.  Randy sat in the seat opposite me and offered no congratulations for my win.  Jason’s previous seatmate Sam commented his sitting with me.  Jason told him that his fat ass took up too much room.  “Besides,” added Jason, “you always fall asleep on the way back, and you snore.”

“Fuck you,” replied Sam.

“Yeah, you wish.”  The conversation ended with that.  Within ten minutes, most of the guys, including Jason, were asleep.  I watched him as he breathed steadily but quietly.  I was excited about my evening.  How much of my virginity would I lose, and was I going to be a one-night stand for this hunk of a jock, or would this be the start of something wonderful?