I'm excited to post this chapter. I like the character development.

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6

 

The weekend went fast. Before I knew it, I was sitting in class again. Even though my free time was gone almost instantly, I tried to think of it as one of the remaining weeks being checked off.

It was also our last week of practice. Our final game was Saturday this week. Coach wanted four practices in. Ugh. I dreaded going to the gymnasium. How weird was it going to be with Rich? My stomach had not felt all twisted in knots like this for some time. Avery and Aram said hello before one of my classes today, but we didn't really have a chance to talk.

But I decided to man up, walk in and just do my job. Fuck Rich. I'm not going to let him get the better of me.

"Kyriazi! Can I see you a minute?!" Coach yelled when he saw me enter. He waved me over to the bleachers.

Uh oh. I didn't like this. Was I in trouble? Was I being kicked off the team?

"Yeah, Coach?"

"Hey. I wanted to talk to you. I heard about the other night. I'm sorry that happened. How are you feeling?"

That was a surprise. It was a tender side of Coach I hadn't seen before.

"I guess I'm okay. It was kind of tough that night. But ... I'm trying to take it in stride."

"Listen," he said pointing with his whole hand. "That does not reflect who we are. Not as a university, and certainly not as a team. Rich will not be playing with us this week."

"Oh." I didn't know what to say. "Who told you?"

"That's not important. As soon as I heard, I called Rich to confirm, and he admitted it."

"Oh great," I said. "He probably thinks I mentioned it."

"No. He knows that isn't the case. I want you to know that verbal abuse of any kind won't fly. I need you to understand that."

I nodded.

"Okay, go get' em. We're all behind you."

Well, that was interesting — and certainly unexpected. I got a lot of "Hey, Trent" nods, and several of the guys patted me on the back at some point during practice. I wonder who ratted Rich out? It's got to be one of the guys on the team. Wait. Surely Mike didn't call the coach. I was perplexed by it all.

Coach informed the team as practice started that Rich wouldn't be coming in this week. When he said it, several of the guys clapped. It was a good practice. Before heading to bed, I texted Mike the update.

 

 

April 6

I was surprised by someone today. I expected Coach to be all macho and, quite honestly, probably not wanting anyone gay on his team. I was honestly stunned at his "modern" attitude. He sent Rich home and told him he wasn't playing this week. I'm not sure how I can convey how much I appreciate his attitude toward me. I've always felt Coach cared about a winning team. Today I felt like he cared about me as a person. I'm grateful. I just have no idea who told him.

 

—       

 

This week was strong. I rocked my courses. I did will on the one test I had. I got further along on my big paper. All the practices went well. The team was ready for Saturday's game. I felt confident. In fact, I felt so confident that I was going to make a commitment to come out to Mom. Soon. I called her mid-week and asked if she would meet me Sunday afternoon for coffee on campus. I knew Dad would be golfing, so it would just be the two of us. I'm confident, but that still terrified me.

The only bummer to the week is that I had no opportunity at all for a sexual outlet. Not since the shower when Paul came home. I was overdue, but the timing just didn't work this week.

Saturday came and the team was psyched. We knew it was do or die. We had to win for any chance at the playoffs. Sadly, it was a two-hour drive, and that took up most of the day. I had the morning free and then the rest of the day was pretty committed. We all met at the gym at 2.

Lance asked me to sit next to him on the bus. He rarely did that. He gets all horny and usually talks to me away from the team, but when he was with the team, he typically seemed distant.

"You feeling good?" he asked me.

"I am," I said with a smile. "I feel strong. Once I knew I was supported by Coach, I was ready to pull out my best. I think the team is behind me. Don't you?"

"Totally. I do."

"I have no idea who told him about Rich. Do you know if anyone has even talked to Rich this week?"

"I haven't talked to him. I think a couple have, but I don't know much more than he isn't mad. I think. I want to say I heard he knew he fucked up."

"Really?"

Lance scratched his shoulder then let his hand rest aside his leg. One of his fingers ran alongside my leg. No one could see, but I could definitely feel his finger — middle finger, of course — rubbing my leg, feeling the hair along my thigh. What was he up to? Flirting can be flattering, but this wasn't the place. I was sitting along the aisle. I definitely didn't need to get a hard-on. I didn't know if my shorts would conceal it. I looked to see if anyone was looking our way. Then I grabbed his hand. I squeezed it for a moment to thank him for the attention, but then moved it over to his lap.

I leaned over to whisper in his ear. "One of these days we need to talk."

He gave a soft "mm-hmm," and then we returned to regular conversation about the game. He talked louder to draw more of the guys in the conversation and we discussed some strategies.

We arrived at the Martin Jacobs campus and carried our bags to the opposing team locker room. Before warming up, we were given a light early dinner.

The two teams were fairly evenly matched. It could go either way. They didn't have a chance to make playoffs; their opportunity was lost last week. However, they still needed this game to make the season stronger than last year, so we know they still wanted to win.

Warmup went well. We were a machine. Fans started filling the gymnasium. This campus had a nicer one than we did. At least for the fans. It just looked a little nicer, a little more modern.

Ten minutes before the game, I looked at the stands. Sitting on the front row was Mike. My eyes had to be huge. I stopped dribbling and ran to the sideline.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"It was my last chance to see you play."

"But you had to drive two hours to be here."

"And ... ?" he said.

"I can't believe you did that. Thank you."

Lance saw Mike, and Mike winked at him and nodded him to come over.

"Professor Terry. What the ...?" Lance asked.

"You guys have this!" Mike said in a pep-talk voice.

Lance gave Mike a one-armed hug. It was funny to see the two of them interact. Mike usually shied away from Lance. We heard the coach call us.

"See ya," I said. I immediately circled back to see Mike glaring at me. He hated that phrase. "I mean, it means a lot to me that you're here."

He smiled. and then I trotted back to finish warmup.

"He's so cool," Lance said to me as we ran.

We had a few minutes left to shoot baskets.

"Was that your dad?" Aram asked.

"No."

Good lord! Mike would have been mortified.

"My dad is much older. That's ... a former professor."

That was lame. But this wasn't the time to get into the whole gay thing. We didn't need any distractions.

I scored my first basket five minutes into the game. Mike's voice stood out in the cheers. At least to me. I smiled. I kept sinking baskets. Mike's yelling was like gasoline. I was on fire. When I heard his voice, I just had huge smiles on my face. When I had a spare moment, I looked at him at the foot of the stands. We smiled at each other. Our look conveyed everything. I kept wanting to score just to hear him cheer me on one last time.

I played well. The whole team did. But so did the other team. It was a close match.

In the last five minutes, the game was tied. One team pulled ahead, then the other caught up. It was a nail-biter. I scored another basket, and we took the lead. Mike went crazy. I wanted one more. Just one more.

With less than 60 seconds left, Martin Jacobs had the ball. There was more than enough time for them to tie the score. We had to make sure they just didn't have a good shot. In passing the ball, they made a miscalculated move and we got it back. Heading back down the court, Avery passed the ball to me. I had been the star player. I think he figured I wanted one last shot, or maybe he thought I was so hot tonight I was bound to make it. Fantastic! I wanted to hear Mike shout my name one last time. I noticed Lance was open and had a better chance to shoot. I hesitated a split second, but I knew it was best to pass the ball to Lance.

He made it.

Ten seconds later the buzzer sounded. We had won. We won by four points. We went nuts. Our team cheered like we had never done all season. Hugs were given all around. I got several bear hugs from other players. The celebration was great. Although John did not ride with us, he drove with his parents and sat with us on the sidelines. We all went to give him a hug too. He was almost recovered, but not fully. It would have been too much of a risk to put him in — both for him and the game.

We shook hands with the opposing team and then entered the locker room. Coach was overjoyed. He hugged me first.

"You. Are. A. Stud! You were on fire tonight!" He then hugged the other players. "I am so proud of this team!"

We went over and lifted him up. We cheered for probably two minutes before he said to clean up. We needed to get to the bus shortly.

We headed out about 25 minutes later. Once on the bus, I pulled out my phone. Mike had texted. I figured he might.

"You are a rock star!" it said.

I chuckled to myself. I showed it to Lance.

"Thanks!" I texted back. "It was because you were there."

"You're sweet, but no. You are just a stud. I'm so proud of you."

"Tell him I was glad he was there too," Lance said.

I texted it. Mike returned.

"Show the phone to Lance. Lance, you played well, too. Proud of you guys! You all were amazing."

Coach walked back to where he could see us all. It was dark, but the bus light was on.

"Hey guys. You know how proud I am of you all. I feel blessed to have worked with you this season."

We sensed a "but" coming.

It was hard to tell, but we felt his eyes were misty.

"I. Am. So. Proud. You just rocked it tonight. All season." Coaches voice quivered ever so slightly. "I just got word. Samuel Wellington won. We don't go to the playoffs."

We all groaned. For a long time.

"Soooo close," several of us said.

Crap. Coach went back to the front and turned out the light. We all sat in darkness.

As much as that news sucked, it did free up some time for the last few weeks of class. I supposed that was a small silver lining. Not a lot. But still, less stress was less stress. Crap.

Lance grabbed my hand. It was dark; no one could tell. Everyone just sort of sat in a quiet sulk anyway. I didn't refuse it. We just held hands for a few minutes. I was not sure why. It was comforting, so I didn't mind. He altered the position to lock fingers with me.

It felt okay. In a way, this was a bold move for Lance. He wasn't out. But who knew what Lance even was anyway? I wasn't sure he even knew. We just ... connected ... for a few minutes.

Everyone was quiet. Some of the guys had shut their eyes and leaned their heads against the window. They were bummed.

Lance unlocked our fingers and moved my hand to his crotch. He was hard. Huge and hard. I could feel it through his shorts. I grasped his rod through the fabric. Slowly I moved my grip up every inch of his erection. I started getting hard. I found myself moving my hand under his waistband and groped his cock. It still astonished me how huge it was.

Wait. This wasn't right. What was I doing? The last time I fooled around with Lance, it crushed me in my relationship with Mike. On a break or no break, I wasn't doing that again. I got up and moved several rows up. My bag was there. I moved it to the floor and just leaned against the window. I'm sure the team felt I was just depressed over the playoffs. They had no reason to think anything else.

Most of the drive was silent, but a few of the guys started having quiet conversations near the end.

I texted Mike.

"The other team won. We didn't make the playoffs."

"Oh babe. I am SO sorry. Your team must be crushed. I am very disappointed for all of you," he replied. "Do you want to talk?"

I paused.

"No. I'll be okay. It's disappointing. I'll move on."

"Okay. I love you. I wanted to tell you that on the court but didn't think it was the right place."

"I thought the same thing. Love you back."

When we got back to campus, Coach jumped off first. We all grabbed our bags and started filing off. Because I had moved up, I was one of the first. As we got off, Coach hugged each one of us and told us he was proud of every one of us — by name. Most of us said that we were proud of him too. We thanked him for the season. He was a great coach.

Most of the team muddled around, saying goodbyes of sorts. There were a few hugs. A couple left immediately. Some stood around to visit. Lance walked over to his car.

"Trent, can I see you a minute?" he called out.

I walked over. I didn't say anything, but my expression said, "What's up?" We were pretty much out of earshot of the rest of the team.

"You moved away from me," he said.

"Yeah. The last time we fooled around it damaged my relationship with Mike. He handled it okay, I think, but I was wrecked. We are ... on hold ... for a few more weeks, but I want to be trustworthy in our relationship. I want to be faithful."

"You know, we could just be friends with benefits," he said.

"What?"

"We don't have to be in a relationship or a romance or a commitment. We just ... you know ... have fun. But just as friends."

"What kind of friends have sex with each other? That's not something friends do," I said authoritatively.

"Oh, you'd be surprised, Trent."

"Maybe, but no."

"Well, I'd like to talk at least. Can we go for a drive?" he asked.

"It's fairly late."

"I know, but just for a while. Let's just talk. I could use that."

"Against my better judgement, I'll say `okay.' But not too long."

"Hop in."

I got in Lance's car. It was newer than mine. I didn't know much about Lance's family, but I got the impression that they had more money than mine.

We drove a few blocks, but not too far. He pulled into a parking lot, backed in so we could see anyone who might pull in and he turned off the car.

"Tell me about your family, Lance."

"Why? Why do you ask?"

"Just interested. How are things with your parents?"

"Great, I guess. They love me. I'm the second of two kids. They've been wonderful to both of us."

"What does your dad do? Does your mom work?"

"Yeah. Both are lawyers."

So. Yes, Lance's family had more money than mine. He had been given a lot of breaks — monetarily and physically.

"Brother or sister?" I asked.

"Older brother. And you?"

"Only child. Mom is great; Dad is ... I don't know what Dad is. He caught me looking at shirtless men when I was in high school. He hasn't really been the same since. We're ... okay."

"Oh," Lance said. "I'm sorry. I take it you haven't come out to them?"

"No," I sighed. "I'm meeting Mom tomorrow. I've made plans to tell her. Hopefully, I won't chicken out."

"Well. Be strong."

"Lance ..." I paused. "Can I ask about you? We've fooled around. You come on to me — like tonight. Then I see you holding hands with girls. What's going on with you? How do you identify?"

Lance sat in silence for a bit. Ten seconds turned to 30. He reached for my hand. After a long moment, he turned to me.

"I don't know, Trent. You seem to be so certain. I ... I ... I just don't know. It's nice to be with a girl. It is. But I want to have sex with guys. Have you had sex with a girl, Trent?"

"No. I tried dating a couple times my sophomore year, and I just didn't feel it."

"Yeah?"

"Like you, I was more into men. I liked looking at them. I thought about them naked. I tried to avoid the whole ... sexuality thing ... and buried myself into schoolwork and hobbies and basketball. Eventually I couldn't avoid it anymore. I was sort of a mess. The showers after practice and at games were really hard." I paused. "How do you get through them?"

"Barely. I have gotten hard a couple times, but I try to blast my cock with cold water as fast as I can."

We both laughed. I could tell this was going to be a frank discussion. In some ways, I felt I could be more open with Lance than I could with Mike. I wasn't sure why. Mike was awesome. Lance was just my age.

"Who do you find to be the hottest naked?" he asked me.

"Ha! I try hard not to look, because ... you know. But when I do look at the guys, I like Aram and Avery. John has a gorgeous dick. It's not big, but I like how it looks. Does it sound stupid to say it's adorable?"

"No. I get it. Tariq is handsome. All of him. I haven't slept with a Black guy before. I don't really think anything about the race difference. I find some Black men very good looking. Women too."

"Mm hm." I looked at Lance directly. "Of course, you're Mr. Big Dick on Campus."

He laughed. Had we enough light, I might have thought he blushed.

"Want to jack off?" he asked me.

"Is that why we drove here? What are you up to?"

"No agenda. We both were hard on the bus. I haven't come in several days. We could just jack off. You wouldn't be cheating on Mike."

I stared out the windshield. I pondered it. Could I trust Lance? Could we both keep our hands to ourselves? Lance sort of answered the question for me. He unzipped his shorts, spread the fly open and pulled out his huge beef. That dick! Apparently, the conversation got him hard. He truly had a huge cock. He started rubbing. He leaned his head back and slightly moaned. His hands moved up and down the shaft. Watching him made me fully erect. Against my better judgement, I pulled out my dick.

"Thataboy," he said.

He reached over to my crotch.

"No!" I said.

Good for me. I was being strong. Each of us stroked our manhood. Within a minute, I was moaning pretty loud.

"You know, Mason has a nice dick, too," said Lance, still stroking his rod.

"He does indeed," I agreed.

"With the whole deal of living with roommates, how often do you get to come each week?" he asked.

"Ugh! Our schedules are so haphazard, someone could walk in on someone else at any time. I guess there are pockets. At least once a week, twice if I'm lucky," I estimated. "When Mike and I were having sex at his place, it was just ... heaven."

"You could do it with your roommates."

"Oh sure. Right. I hardly think so. That would be weird."

"Says the man who has his dick out next to me," Lance quipped.

"Touché," I replied. "But they're straight."

Lance grew silent at that. His stroking became a little slower. I wondered if he was deciding if he was straight or not. Then he looked down at his massive hulk of flesh in his grip and worked it faster.

"When you jack off, does your dick feel better when you rub near the tip or near the base?" he asked me.

"These are very specific questions," I said. I thought about it. "I think it feels best about two inches from the head. Mike's blow jobs are out of this world. He gets it right there. But when I get close to coming, the base too."

"Hmm. Mine feels best right at the base of the shaft. Right here."

I watched him pound the base of his cock, somewhat bemused at the outrageous conversation we were having. Watching Lance was hot. His big cock was truly a sight. He started moaning loudly.

"Ooooooohhh yeahhhh," he said, really working his erection.

"So, do you like fucking or getting fucked better?" I asked.

He groaned in pleasure.

"Actually, I've only been fucked."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I know it will sound arrogant, but my cock doesn't feel good for a lot of guys. It kind of hurts. I loved it when you fucked me in the shower. I wish I could."

"Hm. Wow."

The conversation was definitely arousing. We continued to rub our cocks, both of us watching each other.

"I should change my answer," he said.

"Huh?"

"I've fucked a few girls. It felt good. But as I did it, I wanted it to be a guy."

"Did the girls like it?"

"I ... guess. One squirmed and squealed. One said she was a virgin, and I think it hurt. That wasn't so great."

"Yeah. That's quite huge to start off. I can imagine what she thinks when she sees everyone else," I said.

"I don't know. Are girls that shallow to really care about size?"

"Probably," I quickly answered. "Most guys are."

We both stroked harder. Whenever we paused in conversation, we moaned loudly as we pleasured our bodies. My cock was throbbing. It felt great, but I didn't feel like I was close to coming, which was fine because it felt so good. I didn't want it to end. My enflamed flesh felt so hot. I'm sure it was burning red, even though I couldn't see my dick that well in the darkness.

Lance pulled his shirt up some. He was loud. I figured he was close. He alternated between heavy breathing and uttering, "Ohhh. Ohhh. Ohhh, Trent."

I felt his climax was seconds away.

"Are you gonna come, Lance?"

He pounded his cock with abandoned. He was there.

"Ooooooohhh, Trent, I'm gonna come. Ohhhh, yeah."

Cum started shooting from his cock. He didn't shoot far, but some made it to his shirt.

"Yeaaaahh. Oh yeah," he moaned as liquid kept rushing from his massive organ.

Lance had no hair on his chest. The cum didn't have anything to cling to. Most of it stayed there, but soon some of it started to run. He left it there as he turned to me. Knowing he was watching me and staring at my cock made my masturbation even hotter. I pulled my shirt completely off. Lance reached over to touch my chest.

"Nope," I chastised.

He pulled his hand back but turned on his side to watch better. He pulled his own shirt off. He grabbed the team shirt from his bag and wiped his chest. I leaned the seat back a bit. We were being completely open and free, so I pulled down my shorts to my ankles.

"Yeah, man!" Lance screamed.

I was pretty much naked at that point. I was stroking my cock with regular rhythm now. I wasn't going to come right away, but I had passed the point of thinking about stopping.

"Oh, Lance, I needed this," I said in a moan. "I haven't jacked off in days."

My left hand reached down to play with my balls as the right continued to jerk on my dick.

"You've got a beautiful body, Trent," he said, watching me. "Your cock is incredible."

I pulled and yanked harder.

"Ohhhhh. Yeeeeeaaaaah. Yeaaaahh," I moaned.

"Yeah, Trent! Make that cock serve you!" Lance yelled at me.

"Oh, Lance, this feels so good. Man, my cock feels sooooo good."

I was bucking my hips. My body was squirming and writhing as sensations flooded through my entire system. I fondled my balls more. My breathing almost sounded like screaming. I was loud. Lance loved it.

"Oh, I'm getting closer. Oh, fuck yeah. Fuck yeah! FUCK YEAH!" I called out.

"Come for me, Trent! Shoot your load!"

"Oh, man! Oh, man, this feels sooo good. I'm so close, Lance!"

"That's it, baby, come for me."

"Don't call me baby," I corrected, but still kept jerking.

My moaning sounding like sexual whining, like erotic whimpering screamed at the top of my lungs. I pounded my pole. The sensations were coursing through every inch of my gorgeous erection.

"Ohhh. Ohhh, I'm almost there. Lance, I'm so close!"

"Do it man! Come for me! Let me see you shoot!"

I yanked my cock harder than ever.

"YESSS!!!"

The first shot of cum shot from my dick all the way to my chin.

"Fuck yeah!" screamed Lance.

I kept shooting cum all over my chest. It just fired in waves in an incredibly intense orgasm. Liquid splattered all over me. I kept yanking. Eventually the streams became dribbles. They spread through the hair on my pecs, down the strip of hair to my navel and then in my bush. The climax felt incredible.

"That was amazing!" Lance said to me.

He leaned over to kiss me. After a quick kiss he licked the cum off my chin. Then he licked it off my neck.

"Okay, okay! Stop. Hand me your shirt," I directed.

I reached over to grab the shirt, but he moved my hand. He wanted to wipe me clean on his own. I allowed it. The fabric of his shirt moved through all the cum on my chest.

"That was amazing," he whispered, trying to make sure he got all of it.

He wriggled the shirt around the base of my dick. It was playful, yet functional.

I pulled my shorts and briefs back up to my waist. I raised the seat upright again and grabbed my shirt.

"I guess we should head back," I said. "I did enjoy this, Lance. I mean talking with you."

"And the rest," he smiled.

"I did need it, yes."

"It sucks about the playoffs," he said, starting the car.

"I know. I feel sorry for Coach — and, well, the whole team."

"You were astounding tonight, Trent. You were driven!"

"If you really want to know, I kept pushing myself to score just so I would hear Mike cheer my name."

He was stunned. "Seriously?"

"Yep. It was my motivation," I said. "Does that make me a romantic or an idiot?"

"I think it's sweet. I'm really envious of what you have with Profess... Mike."

"Thanks. We're still new. At times I worry that he'll realize that he's a man; why would he waste his time on a kid?"

"You're not a kid. We're men, Trent. Okay, yeah. There is an age difference. But it is NOT insurmountable. He drove two hours to see you tonight. Doesn't that say something?"

"It does." I drifted off into deep thought. "It does," I said softly.

As we pulled into the parking lot where I had left my car, Lance got quiet. He pulled up next to my car.

"Trent, graduation is only weeks away. Do you know what you're going to do?"

"I honestly have no idea, Lance. It should scare me that I don't have a plan. It's always been so far off in the distance, but it's here!"

"I hope ... I hope we still ... have a chance to see each other. I'd hate to lose contact," he told me.

"Me too."

I got out of the car and opened the back door to grab my bag. Lance got out and walked around to me.

"You were a star tonight. Don't forget that," he said. "Good luck with your mom tomorrow."

Then he gave me a deep kiss.

"Stop that," I said following. "And thanks."

 

April 11

Tonight hurt. The team played so well. We worked so hard. The playoffs were just in reach, but it was not to be. As harsh as that blow was, I received so many compliments on my performance tonight. That felt nice. I feel good about that.

I'm not always sure what Lance is up to, but I think we became better friends tonight. I saw a tender side to him. He doesn't come off as a caring person usually. I think he has a lot running through his head. I think he could be a friend I need when things seem unsure.