Catholic School Chronicles -- Locker Room Voyeur

 

I've always felt like I don't quite belong to any group. At school, I didn't fit in with the boys because I just couldn't bring myself to talk about girls or football with any genuine interest. I didn't fit in with the girls because any attempt at being friendly was seen as an attempt to get into their skirts. I lost count of the number of girls I had to distance myself from because they wanted to be more than friends.

 

I always felt like I was on the outside. I had friends, don't get me wrong. They just weren't friends I would trust with any secrets. And boy did I have secrets.

 

The thing about being gay in a Catholic school system is that the fear of God is driven into you from an early age.

 

`Thou shalt not touch thyself in search of pleasure or thou shalt be destined for hell'

 

In all seriousness, I was told that if I masturbated, I would go to hell. I'd never tell them that my male classmates were the objects of my desire. I might as well book my ticket to hell now and have done with it.

 

One thing that was no secret was my hatred of Physical Education lessons. Growing up in the North of England where the cold winters saw us out on the football pitch in shorts and a t-shirt in sub-freezing conditions, it's perhaps no surprise that I felt the way I did about sports.

 

What got me through those lessons were the sights I saw in the locker room after...

 

. . .

 

"Hey Joe, that pass you made was sick man! I thought Mike was going to cry when we scored." Jamie shouted from his cubicle, his arse barely hidden behind the thin plastic shower curtain.

 

"Fuck off Jay. If I wasn't on the shit team you never would have got one passed me and you know it!" Mike replied from deeper into the shower room, as he fell for the banter. He was just leaving his cubicle his face masked by the towel as he dried his hair.

 

The spot I chose in the locker room allowed me to see straight down the row of showers. While I slowly organised my things and got changed, I took advantage of Mike's inability to see me looking. I took in his wet, athletic body with the thirst of a sexually frustrated, closeted gay boy in a school full of hot jocks. That's what I was after all.

 

His chiselled chest had a smattering of dark hair just around his perky nipples, confused by the cold winter air and the warm shower-room steam. I imagined licking them... but I knew I didn't have long until he stopped drying his hair, so my eyes flicked down over his smooth flat stomach.

 

There it was. The cock I would do anything to worship. I imagined it in my hand, in my wet, and getting wetter, mouth. I imagined it inside me. Oh shit, I was getting hard. I looked away and sat down with my towel over my crotch to hide the bulge in my shorts.

 

As Mike passed me, he glanced my way, smiling slightly. He knew he had a prize piece of meat between his legs and he made no effort to hide it. His dick remained in full view of everyone in the locker room while he dried his body, starting with his broad chest. He turned slightly away from me as he wrapped the towel around his lower back and began to caress his ass cheeks with the soft material.

 

Was I imagining it, or was Mike intentionally giving me a full view of his bubble butt? This was doing nothing to reduce the swelling in my dick. I would have to stop looking soon. I couldn't pretend to be organising my bag for much longer before someone would sense I was stalling or, worse, before the bell signalled the end of lesson.

 

Mike had finished drying off and began dressing unhurriedly. By now there were other boys in the locker room glancing at his thick cock and juicy balls. They were jealous. I'm sure that was it; they didn't want to use them the way I did.

 

Feeling the looks of several of his inferiorly hung classmates did nothing to hurry his changing. He managed to look sexy as fuck with a button-down shirt and no underwear. His arse was so perfectly round, the shirt bunched slightly above his sweet cheeks. As he turned around, I saw his package framed between the two sides of his shirt. His foreskin revealing some of the head that was still red from the heat of the shower. Was it getting thicker?

 

I sensed him looking out of my peripheral vision and for a second our eyes locked. It might have been the reflection from the locker-room lights, but his warm hazel eyes had a fire inside them. He knew I liked what I saw. Was my own lust reflected back at me? No, it couldn't be. I looked away, a pinkening beginning in my face.

 

SHIT! What would happen now. My internalised homophobia had me waiting for him to start shouting about the fag who wanted his dick. The abuse was bound to start. The fear had shocked the boner out of me so I got up and got changed as quickly as I could. Soon there would be jeering and rumours about the voyeur fag who got off watching his peers naked.

 

"He shouldn't be allowed in the boys locker room," they would say, "put him in with the girls!"

 

I waited. But nothing came. Mike finished getting ready in silence. He didn't look at me again. Maybe he hadn't noticed how much I wanted him. Oh God, I hope so.

 

. . .

 

Sitting in my bedroom that night, I closed my eyes. I had an amazing memory and an even better imagination. I pictured the smooth balls hanging just below the tip of that fat cock and juicy head. Behind my eye lids, I got up from the bench letting my towel fall and displaying the bulge in my shorts. As Mike turned, we locked eyes and this time we held the eye contact long enough for me to cover the distance between us and fall down on my knees before his godly body. I took his dick in one hand, his balls in the other, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

 

His mouth parted slightly, and his tongue slid over his lips. I took him in my mouth, pushing back his foreskin with my tongue and licking over the head of his growing cock.

 

Wow. It was big when it was soft. I'd assumed he was a shower but oh no. His dick was growing in my mouth as I slid my head back and forth on his shaft. My jaw was being stretched by the meat. His eyes closed and he reclined his head slightly, pumping forward just as my face came down towards his abs. I felt his dick slide deep down my throat and I fought my gag reflex as tears formed in my eyes. He held my head like that until I pushed back in search of air. He forced his dick down my throat again as soon as I'd taken a breath.

 

It continued like that while I stroked my dick. I saw him fucking my face behind my eye lids as I started pumping harder into my hand. I was getting close thinking about Mike's gorgeous body and my fantasy of him enjoying my warm mouth. Just as Mike came down my throat, I shot my load all over myself. My orgasm lasted what felt like minutes. My dick pulsed as cum squirted out of me. I lay in the mess with my eyes closed, holding on to the sight of him.

 

"One day," I told myself, "that boy is going to fuck me."

 

. . .

 

I imagined. I believed. And, my wildest dreams would cum true.