To the Mat -- Pt. 2, by Swimmboy4@aol.com
This story involves sexual contact between young males.
If such stories are not appealing to you, or
it is illegal to read such material in your jurisdiction, please do not
of Edward's relatively light body suddenly suspended by the tie cord was not
enough to snap his neck, but the cord did immediately begin choking him, as his
airway was closed off. Instinctively, he
began to weakly claw at the binding around his throat as the darkened room
before him slowly faded toward black.
seconds, his vision began to cloud, and his feeble struggles
became weaker. The last thing he saw was
a brilliant light, and an angel appeared, looking surprisingly like Bryan. Edward smiled
weakly, just as he lost consciousness.
Bryan stood in the
doorway, the light from the hallway behind him surrounding him with an aura of
brightness. He was surprised the room
was so dark, and fumbled for the light switch.
What he saw next made him burst out laughing.
"Dude, what the hell!
What kind of a dumb prank is th...Edward?
EDWARD!" Bryan screamed, as his mind finally
sorted out what his eyes were seeing -- the dangling body, the cord, the
purplish-red face, eyes closed, the body slowly swaying, but not moving on its
own. Quick as a flash, he jumped over to
where Edward was hanging, wrapped his arms around the boy's thin thighs, and
lifted him enough to relieve the pressure on Edward's throat and neck.
An anguished scream of sheer panic emanated
mouth -- a cry that brought several boys from nearby dorm rooms running to his
aid. One boy, a lifeguard at the school
pool, untied the cord and helped Bryan
lower the limp body to the floor, while another student dialed 911 on his cell
phone. The lifeguard was well-trained --
he quickly felt around Edward's neck, and finding nothing that appeared broken,
began to administer CPR. Others were
rushing in and out of the room, some hurrying to the building's front doors to
lead rescue personnel to the room, some offering assistance, many just curious
about what had happened. During this
confusion, the folded paper on Bryan's
pillow was swept off the bed, slipping down between the bed and wall, landing on
the floor beneath the bed, one corner barely visible.
Bryan was slowly
recovering from the shock of what he'd found as the paramedics loaded Edward,
who was just barely breathing, onto a stretcher and rushed him to a waiting
ambulance. The dorm resident assistant,
who had never expected to confront such a situation, was trying his best to
answer questions, complete paperwork, check Edward's emergency contact
information, and quiet the many students who were demanding information.
As the crowd drifted away, Bryan could hear the sound of the ambulance
siren as it became more distant, racing toward the hospital on the outskirts of
town. And suddenly, Bryan was alone.
He sank to the floor, shaking and trembling
uncontrollably. He stared across the
room for several moments, then felt a choking sob rise
from his chest. He felt utterly lost and
alone. He slowly picked up his phone and
placed a call. "Co...Cody, can you...please,
can you come here...right now...can you come to my room?
Now, please, right now."
apartment was a good ten minute bike ride from Bryan's dorm.
He reached the dorm building in six minutes flat, knowing something was
wrong, terribly wrong, not knowing what it could
be. As he ran up the stairs and down the
hallway, he overheard snippets of conversations -- "ambulance", "suicide",
"rope" -- but could not imagine what it all meant.
He reached Bryan's dorm room and opened the door without
knocking. His teammate was sitting on
the floor, a look of total shock still on his face.
Kneeling beside Bryan,
he gently placed his hands on the athlete's broad shoulders, saying simply,
"I'm here, Bryan."
seemed to stare right past Cody, until he finally recognized that a friend was
there -- someone to comfort him, to help him.
As if a floodgate had suddenly opened, Bryan began to babble, rushing to
explain what he had found, what had transpired, speaking so rapidly that Cody
had to slow him down and ask him to repeat some things two or even three
times. "So, I don't know if he's even
dead or alive, Cody. I don't know.
I think the school will call his
parents. Maybe I should call them.
I don't know their phone number.
Maybe I should call the hospital, or go
there, or do something." Bryan was struggling to
cope with what he had witnessed. Cody
simply sat on the floor beside him, placed his arm around him, and pulled Bryan close.
several minutes of quiet talk, Bryan
began to relax. A knock on the door
startled both boys. It was the resident
assistant, asking if Bryan
was alright, or if he perhaps needed to speak with a counselor, though the RA
wasn't sure one was available on campus at that hour.
Taking charge, Cody explained that Bryan was his teammate, and that he would stay with him and see to his well-being.
The RA nodded understandingly and departed.
Meanwhile, Bryan had begun to slowly straighten up the
room as best he could, though his hand began to shake when he picked up the
discarded robe cord that had so recently been around Edward's neck.
Looking to help, Cody also began righting
things around the room. Noticing a paper
on the floor, nearly hidden beneath Bryan's bed,
he picked it up, but then set it aside when Bryan slumped to the floor, clutching the
cord in his hand. Rushing over, he slowly
back to his feet, then steered him to his bed, where both wrestlers then sat,
side by side.
his arm around Bryan's shoulder, occasionally
rocking him gently, soothing him, as Bryan
expressed his concerns and fears.
Suddenly, Cody remembered something the RA had whispered to him at the
door. "Bryan," he said, "the RA told me they think
Edward will be OK -- the ambulance crew think you found him just in time."
For the first time that night, a small smile
flickered across Bryan's
face, and some color returned to his cheeks.
Both boys laughed when their quiet conversation was interrupted by a
loud rumbling from Bryan's empty stomach, and Bryan realized he'd never
made it to dinner that night. But he
refused to go out, so Cody went along the hallway asking for anything the other
dorm residents had that he could give Bryan
to eat. A meal of Ramen noodles, a
banana, some graham crackers, and cookies had soon filled Bryan's tummy, and he finally stretched out
on his bed. Cody, without hesitation,
walked over to him, got him to sit up, and proceeded to remove his shirt, sandals
and sweats, leaving him in just the small bikini briefs that had elicited
comments from Edward earlier in the evening.
Again, without hesitation, Cody removed his own clothing, stripping down
to his boxer-briefs. Pulling down the
blanket and sheet on Bryan's
relatively small bed, he scooted the freshman under the covers and over against
the wall, then climbed into bed beside him, cradling
him as best he could.
Bryan was resting quietly
on his side, facing the wall, with Cody `spooning' him.
Cody's arm was draped across Bryan's side, his hand against the younger
teen's chest. He could feel Bryan breathing slowly,
in bed with Bryan
this way reminded Cody of his freshman year, when Doug had "adopted" him as a
teammate. Cody and Doug had been in the
same weight class -- just as Cody and Bryan were now -- and Cody fondly
remembered the many hours they had spent together -- in the practice room, in
the weight room, on the road, hanging with each other in the dorms.
Cody remembered that night in Indianapolis, when their
team was wrestling in the conference championships, staying at the hotel,
sharing a room -- and a bed -- with Doug.
The athletic budget at Holden
College was rather tight,
and teams had to spend wisely, so room sharing was the norm, at least for the
non-revenue athletes such as wrestlers.
Cody and Doug had shared rooms before, but that night had been
different. It was the last night of the
championships, and Coach Weber had his hands full trying to keep a rowdy bunch
of college boys from blowing off too much steam in celebration of their
victory. Some were trying to sneak out
to a bar, a couple had found a strip club down the
block they wanted to investigate. Cody
had been eager to sneak away someplace -- anyplace -- but Doug had escorted him
back to their room, telling him he was simply too young for the activities the
older boys had spoken about.
angered the young buck, and he was in a sour mood back in their room.
As Doug had begun stripping for bed, Cody had
made a dash for the door, thinking Doug would never chase him into the hallway
wearing just his briefs. But Cody was
wrong, for Doug had indeed chased and caught him, dragging him back to their
room by the collar of his shirt. The
younger boy had been furious, and started pushing his older mentor, only to
have Doug wrestle him to the carpet and begin removing his clothes, telling him
he was to turn in, and threatening to tie him onto the bed if he didn't behave.
As Doug had
yanked Cody's shirt off, he'd had a sudden idea of how to tame the kid, and get
him under control. He began to tickle
Cody. Through the hours they'd spent
practicing holds and escapes, Doug knew every ticklish spot on Cody's body, and
he put that knowledge to good use. The
smug, defiant teen was quickly reduced to a quivering, squirming boy, eyes
tearing as he gasped for breath, pleading and begging the older wrestler to
stop. But Doug had been relentless,
going for Cody's thighs, his lower abs, his sides, his pits, until Cody was
completely helpless and totally at his mercy.
Straddling the younger boy, Doug was in a position of total dominance,
and enjoying it. Enjoying
it so much that he had unknowingly become aroused in his briefs, something that
Cody had quickly noticed as he blinked to clear the tears from his eyes.
And then Cody had done something he'd never
done before -- he reached up and grasped Doug's hard shaft through the briefs,
and held it tightly, slowly applying pressure until Doug had stopped the
tickling and had become very, very compliant.
looked into Cody's eyes, and Cody had looked into Doug's.
Neither boy spoke, yet neither tried to pull
away from the other, either. Cody had
never touched another guy's cock before that night, but at that moment, he
suddenly realized the power and control one man gains by wrapping his hand
around another guy's erect organ.
And in that instant, Cody found himself loving
this new power. Doug had stopped
tickling him, so he could have released Doug from his grip -- but he
didn't. His hand would not, or could
not, let go of that steel-hard shaft.
Instead, his fingers had begun exploring it through the thin material of
his underwear -- caressing and stroking it, tracing the veins, rubbing along the
flared corona. Doug had started to grow
short of breath then, and Cody had noticed that the cock he held had begun to
secrete drops of stickiness from the tip, creating a large damp spot on the
cotton fabric. Cody had lost control
then -- as if some chained beast had suddenly broken free, he had attacked
Doug's cock with a vengeance. Stripping
-- nearly ripping -- Doug's briefs off, he had begun to pump and stoke and jack
that hard tube of manmeat with a fury.
Doug's head had rolled back, his mouth wide
open in a silent groan, and in only a few short moments, Doug's cock had
literally erupted, spraying both boys with a stream of warm, stringy spooge. And then,
Cody had released Doug from his grasp, suddenly feeling ashamed and humiliated
over what he had just done to his best friend.
had gone into the bathroom to clean himself up, then
he came out, donned a fresh pair of briefs, and climbed into bed -- all without
saying a word. Cody had cleaned up also,
then climbed into the other side of the bed.
About four minutes later, Doug had rolled
over to Cody's side. And about thirty
seconds after that, had begun to kiss Cody's hard body, nipping at his nipples,
licking his neck and his armpits, then proceeding to slide his tongue down
Cody's torso until he was licking at sucking at the pouch containing Cody's
virgin manhood. His boxer-briefs were
quickly tugged down to his knees, and Doug had tenderly taken Cody's rapidly
hardening meat into his mouth, giving the boy his first ever blowjob, and what
Cody would still swear was the largest, most powerful ejaculation his body had
It had only
been that one night -- neither boy had ever spoken of the incident again.
Yet now, cradling Bryan in his arms, Cody's
mind flashed back to that night some two years earlier, and he found himself
lusting with desire for this teen he now held in his arms.
He was startled out of his reverie when Bryan suddenly spoke to him.
"Cody, I need to tell you something --
something strange about tonight.
Something I just realized when we were straightening the room."
it, Bry?" Cody
replied, making room as best he could as Bryan turned to face him.
I'm not sure if you noticed or not, but I'm not wearing my usual
underwear. I had put these Elance briefs on earlier today just to get used to them for
the meet next week. I like to wear these
under my singlet to help keep my stuff in place -- oh, hell, you know what I
mean, you're a wrestler! You know how we
have to wear something under our singlets to keep our
cocks from sliding around against that itchy fabric."
Cody chuckled quietly, nodding his head in
agreement. Bryan continued: "Well, Edward came in earlier
and saw me in these bikini briefs, and he asked me about why I was wearing
them, so I explained. I mean, gee Cody,
Edward and I are roommates, and we see each other in underwear all the time.
He wears boxers, I wear boxer-briefs or
briefs, but not bikini briefs, so I guess it seemed strange to him to see me in
these. Anyway, as I explained to him my
reason for wearing them, I had tossed him another pair of my bikini briefs to
see what they were like. Then, we got
into this huge argument about some trash I'd thrown that went under his bed,
and the next thing you know, we were fighting.
Not really fighting -- not hitting or punching -- just pushing and
wrestling. I pretty easily pinned him,
picked up the trash and went out for a walk."
know Bryan, you
told me all this earlier -- the fight was minor, and I'm sure he didn't hold a
grudge over that," Cody responded.
"I know, I
said, "but, there's something else. When
I came back and found him hanging there, he was only wearing underwear -- MY
underwear, my bikini briefs -- the ones I'd tossed to him earlier.
When we were straightening up the room, I
noticed they were nowhere on the floor or anywhere, and not back in my drawer. And
then it hit me - Edward tried to hang himself in my underwear, Cody.
don't understand that."
older and wiser than the innocent freshman, suddenly realized what was going
on, what had happened in the dorm room earlier that night.
On an impulse, he said to Bryan, "Did you or the paramedics find a note
or letter -- anything written by Edward?"
don't think so. I didn't see anything
like that," said Bryan.
But Cody suddenly remembered the paper he'd
found under the corner of Bryan's
bed, and he jumped up and retrieved it from the desk where he'd put it
down. It was folded several times, and
the name "Bryan"
was written on it -- Cody hadn't noticed that earlier.
yours? I found it under your bed when we
were cleaning up," Cody said as he handed the paper to Bryan.
The younger athlete shook his head, looking puzzled as he saw the note
for the first time. He unfolded it and
began to read, his eyes growing wider with each sentence.
"Oh, oh, oh
my God," Bryan
uttered, as his eyes began to tear.
"It's, it's a note from Edward.
He must have written it right before, well, before what he did.
He says, well, it's really personal."
make a guess," said Cody. "He wrote
something about you, about how much you mean to him, how much he cares about
you, how sorry he is for what he is going to do."
Bryan bowed his head,
tears spilling down his cheeks, as he quietly answered.
"Yes, something like that, very much like
that. I had no idea -- I thought he hated
me, or at the least, could barely stand me.
Cody, is it my fault -- what he did tonight?"
No, Bryan, none of this is your fault.
He had a crush on you -- plain and
simple. And he figured you would never
feel the same about him, and he just couldn't handle that, and he snapped,"
Cody said, trying to assure his friend that none of the incident was his fault.
what about my briefs? Why was he wearing
them?" asked Bryan.
"Hmmmm..., I'd guess he felt that was one way to be close to
you -- to wear something so intimate -- your underwear.
It could be he had a fetish for your briefs,
and imagined they would bring him closer to you," Cody responded.
a fetish? I've heard that word, but I'm
not too familiar with it, Cody, and I really don't understand this," Bryan stated, staring
into Cody's eyes.
forgotten just how young and innocent freshmen can be, and as he sat back down
on the bed next to Bryan,
he said, "A
fetish is like, well, maybe like an addiction.
It's a desire to have something, usually something very personal or intimate,
that belongs to someone you have an attraction to.
Some guys like to take panties or bras from
girls they like, sort of as a trophy or reminder of that girl.
Sometimes, they may not even know the girl --
there was a guy in Tennessee
who had this fetish for women's shoes -- it got so out of control he would steal
shoes from women he'd just see on the street.
I've heard there are guys that go into locker rooms, looking for other
guys' underwear, Speedos -- you know, anything of that
sort. When I was in high school, guys in
the locker room kept losing their jock straps -- turned out, the janitor had a
thing for them -- he would steal them out of lockers, out of the dirty laundry
cart -- when they finally caught him, they found over two hundred jocks in his
house, all neatly labeled with the owners name, age, date stolen, and a
description he had written of what he wanted to do to each guy if he caught him
in his strap -- really perverted stuff, from what I heard."
"Oh, um, I
guess I see," said Bryan, as yet more of his youthful innocence slipped
away. "So, you think Edward, he, well,
maybe he had some really personal feelings, or an attraction, toward me?
Like, maybe he was in love with me or
something? That's sort of what this
letter he wrote implies, but some of what he says is just so personal, that I
would prefer not to show it to you."
Cody nodded understandingly.
I'd say that's about right. The police
or maybe his parents will need to see that letter, so you should hold onto it,"
no -- please don't tell anyone, at least, not unless they ask.
If he had, well, you know,
if he had died or whatever, maybe it wouldn't matter.
he lives, I just can't let others know about this -- not without his permission,"
forcefully. Cody quietly agreed, and
soon, the two young men had snuggled down together in Bryan's narrow bed, sleep coming in small
doses as the night progressed toward morning.
Neither Cody or Bryan had an early class the next day, so
Cody hurried back to his apartment and got permission to use his roommate
Luke's car. He drove back to campus,
picked up Bryan,
and drove him to the hospital. At first,
the nurse denied Bryan
access to Edward's room, explaining his parents were due to arrive later that
morning, and only family would be allowed visitation rights.
"But, you don't understand.
I must see him.
I'm his roommate at Holden -- I think I'm the
only friend he has here. Please mam, please let me just check in on him, just so he knows
people here care about him," Bryan
pleaded. Finally, the nurse agreed.
waited in the lounge area, Bryan
went to the room and slowly opened the door.
Edward was lying in bed, an oxygen tube under his nose, his neck badly
bruised and discolored. Frighteningly,
his hands and arms were strapped to the bed.
He was awake, and a look of sheer dread and panic crossed his face as Bryan entered the
room. Edward quickly looked away,
staring blankly out the window. But he
turned back to face Bryan as he felt the wrestler step up to the bed and warmly
grasp his immobilized left hand.
"Edward, oh Edward, my God, you're okay, thank God you're OK," Bryan whispered.
began to speak, his voice raspy and low.
what...what are you doing here?" he asked.
"I had to
come see you, make sure you were alright.
The hospital passed word to the RA last night that you would be okay,
but I wanted to come by this morning and make sure," Bryan said.
look of sadness crossed Edward's face.
"I'm not okay," he said slowly, "I'm a total disaster.
So hopeless, so scared.
God, I couldn't even kill myself right.
What a fucking dumb shit loser I am.
And, well, I guess you know everything now.
What I am, what a lost cause I am.
I guess you saw my letter," he said sadly.
holding Edward's hand, Bryan
smiled at him, shaking his head. "Yes, I
read the letter. It was very...touching,
very emotional. And here I thought you
couldn't stand the sight of me!" A brief
grin appeared on Edward's face for just an instant, but it quickly turned into
"Oh Bryan," he said, "it must sicken you to be near me -- to know how I felt about
you. All those things I kept
hidden. God, you must totally hate
me...I...I can't even imagine how you can stand to be here with me," Edward
because we are roommates, and because we are friends, despite all the bickering
and arguing we do. But Edward, there are
things you need to know -- things you said in your letter that were so totally
opposite to the truth. Dude, the "Bryan"
you love in that letter does not exist.
You have this image of me -- at least according to your letter -- of this
perfect guy who has the whole world in his hands -- a jock, a ladies man, a
lover, a guy with tons of friends, a guy with some perfect life.
Shit, Edward, when you meet that Bryan, will you please
introduce him to me? I sure don't know
anyone like that." Edward looked into Bryan's eyes, a puzzled
expression on his face, as the wrestler continued.
"Okay, I guess you can call me a `jock' since
I'm on the wrestling team. But big deal
-- other than you and my teammates, nobody on this campus knows -- or cares --
that I'm an athlete. We're not like the
football and basketball players who get their pictures and names in the school
and town paper every day -- THEY are the true jocks that everyone fawns
over. Hardly anyone else gives a rat's
ass about us wrestlers. And your letter
called me a ladies man, who scores with any chick I want?
Edward, you couldn't be more wrong.
Just over a year ago, I tried to make it with
this girl from my high school -- but I couldn't do it.
I don't know what happened to me, but I just
couldn't, well, you know, perform. Maybe
I was scared, or insecure, or just as dumb in that department as I am in
English or math or history. Hell,
Edward, `Rosie Palmer' is the only lady my cock has ever known," said Bryan, as he smiled
faintly and held up his right hand, waving his palm in Edward's face.
words were sinking in, Bryan
I have loads of friends?
Other than a few of my teammates, and, well, you, I haven't made even
one friend on this campus. And last
year, when my so-called high school friends got word of my, well, how can I put
this, my sexual inadequacy, well, you wouldn't believe how quick my so-called
`friends' were to desert me! My senior
year of high school was pure hell.
Without wrestling, I wouldn't even be in college -- my math teacher hated
me so much last year, I had to stay after nearly every day while she tortured
me with extra work, even though I couldn't understand a bit of it!
My God, Edward -- last week, you left a paper
on your desk -- maybe it was a history test or something your professor had
graded -- the words "Excellent Job" were written across
the top. Do you remember that?"
though he wasn't sure whether it was his sociology or history paper Bryan was referring to,
since both had carried the same notation next to his "A" grade.
"Do you know I can't even remember -- ever --
when a teacher wrote something like that on one of my papers?" Bryan continued.
"If a paper with that written on it was
handed to me, I would automatically pass it on down the row, sure it was
anyone's but mine."
I mean to say is this -- some people, and I think you are one -- seem to think
college athletes lead these charmed lives -- and maybe a few, a very few --
do. But not me,
man -- not even close. Not even a small
fraction of us. We have many of the same
failures, the same fears, make the same stupid
mistakes that everyone else does. We,
and certainly not myself -- are not idols that others should look up to, so
please, don't EVER consider yourself a lesser person than me, or think you
don't `deserve' to be around me, as you said in that letter.
I'm just as scared and confused and insecure
in life as you or anyone else," Bryan
stated factually, staring into Edward's eyes.
The boys continued speaking quietly for some time, and Bryan told Edward things he had never spoken
of before -- regarding his own inadequacies, insecurities, and abject failures.
Edward began to realize that image does not always equal reality.
And he realized Bryan was just as human, just as imperfect,
as he was.
moment, the door opened and Edward's parents rushed into the room, looking
fearful, drawn, exhausted. They had
apparently been driving all night from Pennsylvania.
"Please," Edward whispered, "don't tell them
about the letter or why I did this. Let
me try to explain to them." Bryan assured him he would say nothing, and after
exchanging a few brief words with the Prescotts, he left the room and
walked with Cody back to the car.
said little on the drive back to campus, but agreed to talk more following the afternoon's
practice. When Bryan
reached the gym around 3 p.m., Coach Weber, who had been informed of the
suicide attempt, offered Bryan
the chance to skip the workout and talk with a counselor.
said he would rather get back to the routine he was accustomed to, and the
coach and his fellow teammates seemed to understand.
Later on, Cody treated him to the pizza
dinner he'd missed out on the night before.
was deeply moved when Cody offered to stay another night with him in the dorm,
or to let him stay at the apartment for as long as he desired.
wanted to stay on campus, so asked Cody to stay, just for one more night, and
Cody agreed to do so. As they reached
the dorm entrance, they ran into the Prescotts.
The kindly couple pulled Bryan into a hug, thanking him for saving
their son, then said Edward would be leaving the hospital in the morning, and
returning with them to their home town, where they would seek help for him.
Mrs. Prescott, I hope Edward can return here to Holden for the spring
said. "Please tell him to call me, text
me, e-mail me, whatever -- at any time. I
want him to stay in touch with me. Tell
him I'll be waiting to hear from him."
The older couple nodded and smiled, then walked away.
Back inside the dorm room, Bryan slumped into a small chair, telling
Cody he felt totally wiped out.
a tough twenty-four hours for you, Bry, that's for
sure," said Cody. A good night's sleep
will you do a world of good -- let's hit the showers, relax a little, and get
some sleep." When they returned to the
room, Cody offered to sleep in Edward's empty bed, but Bryan asked him if they could sleep in the
one bed as they'd done the previous night, and Cody agreed.
That night, both in boxer-briefs, they again
slipped under the covers on Bryan's
narrow bed. When sleep finally came, it
was a deep, penetrating rest for Bryan, his body struggling to recover from the
strain he'd been under. The rest was
more fitful for Cody, however, as once again he was tormented by memories of
Doug, and desires for Bryan that were just being awakened, though he was
fighting like hell to keep them at bay.
Bryan was at the campus
pool, swimming laps, wearing his brief competition swimsuit from his summer
league team. Edward was in the lifeguard
chair, watching over him, keeping him safe.
Nobody else was at the pool, so Edward had no one else to watch, anyway.
"That's funny," thought Bryan, "I didn't know Edward was a guard here
on campus." Suddenly, Bryan felt a terrible cramp in his stomach --
oh, he had forgotten to eat dinner! The
cramp was bad, and he was slipping under the water, fighting for breath.
Suddenly, Edward was there, wrapping his arm
chest, easing him to the side of the pool, helping him onto the deck.
Gently, Edward stretched him out, then leaned
forward and placed his lips on Bryan's...
dream began, Bryan
had begun twisting and twitching in bed, arousing Cody from his slumber.
While they were sleeping, the sheet and
blanket had been tossed aside, leaving both athletes naked on the bed except
for their underwear. The dim light
filtering in under the shade illuminated the room just enough for Cody to
see. He could see Bryan next to him, could see his lips moving
slightly as he faintly mumbled something in his sleep.
And he could see Bryan's
hard shaft, desperately struggling to break free from the boxer-briefs
entrapping it, could see its long, slender form where it arched toward the
waistband, forming an enormous lump or bulge at Bryan's groin.
As Cody became more awake, he realized Bryan
was dreaming, and from the look of things, was perhaps on the verge of having a
wet dream, a "nocturnal emission", as his old Boy Scout handbook had described
it. Cody had to smile when he remembered
seeing that entry in his Scout book years ago, and he remembered how relieved
he'd been to read the line that said something about `some boys like to cause
these emissions themselves, but that is OK, it won't hurt you."
how relieved he'd been to learn that -- to realize all those stories about
`going blind' or `growing hair on your palms' were
untrue! Now, here he was, lying next to Bryan, and feeling a wicked temptation to do to Bryan what he'd so
frequently done to himself. Masturbation.
touch him?" Cody asked himself. "What if
he awoke -- what would he say?" Curiosity
and desire got the best of him, and slowly, very gently, Cody placed his hand
upon the bulge in Bryan's
underwear, where he could feel the outline of the long, rock-hard shaft beneath
his fingers, then the softer feel of the freshman's loaded nutsac,
where two of the heftier testicles Cody had observed on any of his teammates,
resided. About twenty seconds later,
Cody quickly removed his hand, feeling utter shame for what he'd just done,
taking advantage of his friend at a time when Bryan needed him.
"Oh, God, what kind of person am I?" Cody asked silently, angry with himself for his
untoward behavior. "Bryan needs me, he trusts me.
And what do I do?
Put my hands all over him with thoughts of
jerking him off! Man, I am sick," said
the thoughts echoing in Cody's brain.
But within minutes, as Bryan continued to squirm and sigh next to him,
temptation quickly returned, and Cody once again found himself touching and
rubbing Bryan's dick, dirty thoughts of `milking' and `fucking' the sperm from
his bedmate now filling his pounding head.
to me, Bryan, come back," said lifeguard Edward as he gently kissed Bryan's
lips, then his entire body, kissing life back into his limbs and torso, and
then, yes, into his crotch. Bryan wanted to cry out,
but couldn't. His voice was gone, and no
sound could escape from his lips. He
couldn't believe Edward was now kissing him on his Speedo, his lips tracing the
length of his shaft beneath the thin lycra
fabric, stirring his sex organ to life right there by the pool.
tried once again to cry out -- but no sound could he make.
But he could feel himself hardening,
lengthening in his small suit, as Edward's lips continued to kiss up and down
his aching shaft...
self-control was slipping away as he felt Bryan's
body -- Bryan's
long cock -- responding to his touch.
More brazenly than before, he began to tease and tickle Bryan's maleness, rubbing the shaft, gently
squeezing the scrotum -- tormenting the sleeping youth into a state of sexual
arousal, his cock ready to release his pent-up supply of semen in a rushing
torrent of manseed.
Once again, conflicting emotions were crashing
into one another in Cody's head -- desire to love the sleeping youth beside him,
and shame over taking advantage of Bryan's
sweet and trusting nature.
Bryan was awake.
He had awakened with an intense burning in
his loins, his cock on the edge of exploding in his underwear.
He was awake, wasn't he?
That weird dream -- Edward kissing him on the
pool deck, his lips moving down over his torso, settling on his groin, kissing
his dick through his Speedo...it was a dream, yet he was still being kissed
down there, or at least touched. Yes,
that was it, someone was touching him, groping and fondling his sex organ...oh,
man, it felt so good...it felt so...but who? What?
Cody -- that had to be it. Cody
was beside him, and he could feel Cody's arm resting on his hip, reaching down,
his hand playing with his maleness...
Bryan had moved suddenly,
or grunted...something told Cody Bryan had awakened.
he slipped his hand away, carefully
moving his arm back to his side of the bed.
What if Bryan
had felt him touching his dick? What if Bryan had been awake the
whole time? What if...
All Bryan knew was that the
pleasure had suddenly, abruptly ceased.
The hand which had been pumping his cock had been withdrawn, and was no
longer touching him in that wonderful way.
Before he could stop himself, he quietly said, "Please, don't stop,
Cody. Please don't pull away."
The hand returned.
Tentatively, then more urgently, Bryan felt Cody's hand
once again grasp his throbbing shaft, toying with it through his briefs.
Then, that same hand suddenly snaked down
under the waistband of his boxer-briefs, wrapped around his turgid penis, and
began jerking his prong, milking burning drops of pre-cum from the tip of his
dick. Fingers eagerly spread the gooey
syrup all along and around Bryan's
prick, making it slippery, allowing the pumping hand to slide ever more rapidly
and effectively up and down, up and down, edging the
young wrestler ever closer to a shuddering climax.
No words were spoken, only a few low groans
and grunts from both boys could be heard, and the slick sound of a wet hand
rubbing and pumping a long, hard, wet cock.
A final grunt from Bryan,
and then his dick began shooting a streaming load of seed, his sperm jetting
from his pulsing cockshaft and spraying onto his
lower abs, his pubic hair, his underwear, and the hand and fingers still
encircling his meat, pumping and draining him dry.
in the darkness, Bryan felt Cody's hands and fingers, carefully wiping the gobs
of spunk from his body, scooping the semen away...then, the hand was gone,
retracted from his briefs...but a smell, not unfamiliar or unpleasant, soon
wafted into Bryan's nostrils. It was an
odor he knew well, the smell of his own semen.
Cody's sopping fingers, covered and dripping with spooge,
were there, at Bryan's
mouth, offering him a taste -- a feast -- of his own secretions.
And like a nursing suckling, the younger teen
found himself licking, then sucking the proffered
digits, the warmth and flavor of his own seed so delectable, so sensual.
Gently, he tongued Cody's fingers one by one,
enjoying what he had enjoyed so many times before when he had been alone,
naked, and aroused.
Sated, Bryan began to try and
turn in the narrow bed, saying, "Cody, I want to touch you, too.
I want to..."
But Cody wouldn't hear of it, gently prodding his younger teammate back
into a comfortable position on the bed.
not now," Cody whispered. "You needed to
relax, you needed relief from the strain you've been
under. There will be other times, but
not yet. You need to sleep now, to just
close your eyes and relax your body. To
sleep in peace tonight, without dreams.
Lie here next to me, close your eyes, and go back to sleep."
And as the tensions of the past twenty-four
hours finally began to ease, that was exactly what Bryan did.
the next morning -- alone. Cody was gone,
and his side of the bed was cool to the touch, indicating he had been gone for
awhile. Bryan couldn't imagine how Cody had slipped
away without him knowing about it, since usually he was a fairly light
sleeper. A small piece of paper was on
Cody's pillow. Unfolding it, Bryan read this simple
statement, neatly (for Cody, neatly meant it was actually legible) printed in block letters:
"Whenever you need me, I am here for you."
smiled. He remembered the night before --
how natural, comfortable it felt to have Cody beside him, touching him so
intimately. It was not awkward, forced,
nerve-wracking as it had seemed with Samantha the previous year at the pool
party -- it had just felt, well, `right.'
Glancing at the clock, he was astounded to
see it was nearly 10 a.m., and he would only have time for a quick breakfast
before his 11 o'clock class. But it was
Friday, so Bryan
was wired -- a few classes, afternoon practice, then
the weekend! His classes seemed to rush
by, and before he knew it, he was in the gymnasium practice room, where Cody
and the others were all preparing for the afternoon workout.
Fridays were always fun -- maybe just the
anticipation of the weekend made them so.
The guys were in a jovial mood -- the "other" Bryan
-- Bryan `B-Man'
Bingham was back at practice, his shoulder now healed from an earlier
injury. Little Jamie Knox, who barely
weighed 125 pounds soaking wet, was playfully teasing the big bruiser, who
weighed in at 220 pounds, if not more.
All of a sudden, `B-Man' scooped the little fellow up with one arm,
threw him over his shoulder, and began carrying him toward the exit doors
leading to the team locker room. Then,
Jamie was suddenly squealing in a falsetto voice, "Help me!
This big brute is going to take me away -- take liberties with me -- do
all sorts of unnatural things to me! Please,
help me -- someone, anyone!" The other
boys started laughing and hollering, and even the coach -- usually so reserved --
was seen rolling his eyes in mock disgust, while grinning
ear-to-ear a moment later.
Bryan hurried to the
corner where Cody awaited him, and the two of them had a good laugh at the
antics around them. All seemed right
with the world again, Bryan
thought -- Edward was alright and on his way home, the team was together and
ready to practice, and Cody had proven to be more, much more, than just a
friend and teammate. Bryan couldn't wait to see what the future