Date: Sat, 15 Mar 2008 02:29:53 -0700
From: Jon Hold <jonhold@earthlink.net>
Subject: Jock Body

This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be used without his
express permission. Private persons and no others are given permission
to have one (1) electronic and/or one (1) printed copy of this work.
Nifty Erotic Stories ArchiveTM  is  given permission to archive this
work.

All the usual disclaimers that are usual apply here. This is a work of
fiction involving sex acts between consenting persons of various ages
and conditions of life. If you can't handle that or if you are not of
legal age or mindset or location, go no further but remove this
material from your possession forthwith.

If you have faggot sensitivity, you ought not read this story.  I'd
really like to hear from some of you with either positive or negative
comments. I have no idea really if I'm bringing any of you pleasure or
what it is you'd like me to write about. I only hear from a few people
on each story. I'd really like to hear from YOU so I'll have some idea
how I'm doing and what it is you like to read. Thanks.

I used two returns between paragraphs to simplify formatting for you.
This is a hyphen -. This is an en-dash --. This is an em-dash ---.
Other high-ascii characters that PC's can't understand have been
stripped.

Try to keep in mind that while 42 is the meaning of life, it is not
the only possible solution and that sexual dimorphism is Mother
Nature's excuse for being kinky.

Enjoy!

Jon

---------------------------------

Jock Body

by Jon Hold
jonhold@Earthlink.net
Copyright ©1999 by Jon Hold


I was told this story by a good friend of mine, and have put it on
paper (in electrons) with his permission.


My Junior year in college I took a class in advanced kinesiology that
had a required lab that lasted the entire summer between my Junior and
Senior years. My 'project' was an incoming eighteen year old freshman
by the name of Ken Sweet. The kid (I'd done my military service before
attending college, so I was twenty-five at the time) was a jock on a
scholarship and I was supposed to help him improve his performance.
Coach Burke, the head coach of the University and Professor Jameison,
my instructor, had both told me that the kid had great potential, but
never quite managed to make the grade. He was on the provisional
scholarship list and his performance this summer, or lack of it, would
probably be the deciding factor in his case.

The coach assigned me room 317, a training room isolated on the pretty
much unused third floor of the gym. I spent the Friday before summer
school started cleaning up the room and reading Ken's personal folder.
I was surprised to read that he was a 4.0 student all through High
School, that he'd made the swim team, the gymnastics team, as well as
the varsity soccer and baseball teams. The newspaper clippings showed
that he was a good athlete, but never a star.

I was just getting out of the shower when Ken showed up for his
interview. I asked him some questions about himself while I toweled
myself dry. I wrapped the damp towel around my waist and sat down
behind my desk, inviting him to sit across from me. I explained the
basics of what I was going to try to do with him that summer and laid
out the ground rules, basically that he did whatever I told him to do,
and nothing else.

He kept answering me with 'Yes, Sir's' and 'No, Sir's' and I decided I
liked that from him. He was about 5' 6" to my 5' 11" so I pretty much
towered over him when we were standing, to say nothing of just being
physically much larger than him. I told him that we'd start his basic
test's at 7 am the next morning and asked him where he was staying.

"My dad got me a motel room until I find a place to stay, Sir."

"Did you take your bags there already?"

"No, Sir. They're out in the hallway."

"Okay. Call up the motel and cancel your reservation. You can stay
with me until you find some place better. No sense in spending all
your dad's money! That OK with you?"

"Yes, Sir. That sounds just fine, Sir."

Ken called the motel while I got dressed. I noticed him watching me
dress, but he didn't make any big deal of it and neither did I. We
loaded his bags into my station wagon and drove out to the ranch I'd
bought. It was a sprawling old place that needed a lot of repair, but
with thirteen bedrooms I wasn't going to have any trouble finding a
bed for my guest.

I'd left a stew in the crockpot that morning so I just made up some
garlic bread and a salad and dinner was served. We didn't talk much
during dinner, but he did complement me on my cooking, telling me that
I was a much better cook that his dad. We talked about that a little
bit and he told me that his mother had died a few months after his
birth because of a random gang shooting. His dad had never remarried,
preferring to raise him and his older brother by himself.

After dinner he washed and I dried and then I said I was going to turn
in early so I was going to grab my shower now.

"Would you like me to wash your back for you, Sir?" he asked with a
sort of lonely, eager expression.

"That wouldn't bother you?"

"Oh, no, Sir. I wash my dad and big brother all the time. They really
like the way I wash them."

I showed him where his bedroom was and where the linen closet was. He
thanked me very politely and said that he hoped he wouldn't be too
much trouble. I told him that having someone to scrub my back would
make it worthwhile. I grabbed a couple of clean towels and led him
into the bathroom and started stripping. He hung the towels up and
then diffidently started to undress himself. He poked along like he
wanted me to get into the shower first so I wouldn't see him or
something like that, but I wasn't having any of that at all. "Strip
down!" I said, "I'm going to be seeing a lot of your body, so there's
no reason to hide it now."

"Yes, Sir." he said, with sort of a resigned sigh in his voice as he
pulled down his pants and underpants at the same time and then stood
up totally naked in front of me, letting me inspect him. His body was
smooth and tight, a lovely masculine body until you got to his groin.
He had a decent patch of pubic hair, but his dick and balls looked
like they belonged on a nine or ten year old boy.

"Does having a little dick bother you?"

He blushed bright red. "Sort of, Sir. It works fine, and I know that
some guys just have small dicks, but it still bothers me when the
other guys tease me about it."

"Well, I think it looks good on your body. I fits you and who you are
just fine."

His chest seemed to swell and a big grin spread across his face.
"Thank you, Sir. I'm glad you like me the way I am."

"Humph. Not quite the way you are." I picked up my shaving gear and
put a new blade in the surgical straight razor. "Get in the shower. We
might as well take care of this right now."

Without asking any questions, Ken did as he was told. I followed him
into the big, tiled shower enclosure I'd built out of two of the
upstairs rooms and adjusted the water temperature to where I liked it.
I wet myself down and then told him to do the same. He immediately did
as he was told and once he was wet all over I told him to get out of
the spray and come over to me.

"I was going to tell you about this tomorrow, but there's no time like
the present. I want you to shave off all your body hair so it won't
interfere with your performance or any of the tests. Do you want to
shave yourself, or would you like me to do it for you?"

"If you wouldn't mind, Sir, would you please shave me? I always cut
myself when I try to do it alone."

So he'd been shaven before? His Dad? Brother? Coach? I intended to
find out later. "Okay. Let's see what we've got." There wasn't much
talking after that. Just a few short commands and 'Yes, Sirs!'.

I lifted his arms and checked under them. Just a light blur of fine,
blond hairs covered the backs of his hands and lower arms.  It was the
work of minutes to remove that hair. There was a powder-puff of fine
light-blonde hairs under each arm. I shook the can of shaving cream
again and then slathered up Ken's armpits. He started to wiggle around
when I began shaving his armpits, obviously ticklish. I slapped his
butt lightly, leaving a white foam handprint. Ken still giggled, but
he held still for me.

I felt his face and checked his neck. I could feel, but not see, a
hint of patchy beard and found a long V trail of fine hairs partway
down his spine. I noticed that his sideburns were trimmed at the
bottom of his ears and didn't like the way that looked on him. I
lathered up the boy's face and neck good and then lowered his ears
until his sideburns were high and tight. His face quickly became as
soft and smooth as a baby's butt and then I turned him around. I
tilted his head forward so I could shave the back of his neck. As I
leaned him forward he quite naturally leaned back against me to
balance himself. Now, I'm pretty heavy hung and I know that there was
no way he didn't feel his buttocks pushing against the soft pillow
hanging from my loins. Other than being worried about my reaction to
his small equipment this boy didn't seem to have any body modesty at
all. It wasn't that he had it under control, he just took it as
perfectly natural that two men who had just met would touch each other
that intimately, and that it was no big deal.

I'd felt the prickle of stiff hairs against my dick so when I was done
with his neck I stood him back up and went over the wooden shower
bench and sat down. I patted my lap and he moved over and draped
himself across my lap as if he'd done it a million times.

"You've been shaven before."

"Yes, Sir. My dad and brother, mostly my brother, used to shave me all
the time when I was swimming."

Well, that answered that question. The boys family obviously had
taught him that nudity around someone he trusted was perfectly all
right. The boys butt cheeks were almost perfectly smooth, but I felt
quite a growth of hair  as my fingers traced down the crack of his
ass. I shifted him forward a bit so that his butt stuck up better.
When I started lathering him up he relaxed and let out a soft
satisfied moan, as limp across my lap as a sleeping kitten. I swear he
damn near purred as I cleared the hair from his butt, and he *did*
purr when I spread his cheeks and started carefully shaving the crease
of his ass.

His butthole was a small pink pucker with some really hard to shave
hairs right around the rim. I was worried about nicking or cutting
him, trying to figure out the best approach to remove those prickly
little hairs.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Ken?"

"Uhhh..."

"What?"

"Well. When my dad or brother shaves me right there they put their
finger inside so they can get to the hairs better."

"You don't mind that?"

"Oh. No, Sir. I'm used to having things put in there."

I wondered what sort of things, but decided to bide my time. I pushed
more of the soapy lather down over the cute little pucker and he was
right. My finger slid in there easy as spit-on -a-frog. I lifted up
his pucker and shaved it, moving my finger around inside the boy to
lift the whole rim a section at a time. I felt something small and
hard poking into my thigh. Obviously, Ken really didn't mind my finger
in his butt. I wondered what else he might not mind in there and my
Johnson gave a throb in anticipation. This kid was getting to me. I
finished what I was doing and gave his butt a swat, telling him to get
up.

He scrambled off of my lap and felt his butt where I'd swatted it.
Wagging his tight little butt right in my face, he said, "You like
spanking little boys behinds, don't you!"

I could hear the teasing challenge in his voice and wondered how often
his father and brother had to paddle his ass to keep this little scamp
in line. "You really don't want to know!"

"Oh! I'm SOOOOOOOOOOOO scared!" he said in a really fake falsetto,
turning towards me and clasping his hands under his chin.

The look on his face when I came off the bench for a full body tackle
really should have been caught on camera. It would have been worth a
million dollars! His ALMOST 100 pounds really didn't stand a chance
against my 225. I just barely managed to keep his head from banging on
the tile floor as we went down. Ken reminded me a lot of my little
brother, and I knew EXACTLY how to deal with that little tease, and
didn't expect to have nearly as much trouble with Ken. I started
tickling him and he tried to escape. When that failed he started
begging me to stop. Promising that he'd be good and that he'd never
tease me again. I knew exactly how long those promises were likely to
last, i.e., about as long as it took him to stand up and get clear.

I kept tickling him until he had tears in his eyes. Pinning him down
on the floor with my butt sitting right on his little pecker, my
fingers still in his armpits, I extracted a promise to be good until I
finished shaving him. He pouted, but promised when my fingers wiggled
deeper into his armpits. I got up, hands still under his arms, and
lifted him up off the floor. Kicking the end of the bench out into the
middle of the room I stood him up on it and told him to hold still.
Smiling happily, he waited for me to finish shaving him.

Ken had no hair on his feet and none above his knee's until you got to
his groin. None-the-less, I spread lather on his left leg from the
tops of his toes to his groin. I felt blood pleasantly filling my
groin and took my time lathering up this fascinating boy. Letting my
hands feel of his slight body, amazing in its smallness considering
his well developed musculature. I ran my hand up between his legs and
teased his tiny rosebud with a fingertip. His response was to widen
both his grin and his stance, giving me approval and better access at
the same time.

I took my time, carefully shaving any possible trace of hair from his
feet and then his strong, knobby ankles. The smooth curves of his
calves were a joy to handle but I discovered that the backs of his
knees were very ticklish. He got his butt swatted a couple of more
times as I tried to get him to hold still. I completely, and quite
thoroughly shaved his thighs, even if they did appear hairless. He was
completely erect by now and his balls were pulled up tight under his
stiff four inches making it easy to shave right up into his groin.

As I was doing Ken's other leg I started evaluating my feelings and
what was happening. My feelings were pretty easy to figure out,
considering the throbbing mass between my legs, but I wasn't too sure
about letting this go too far. I felt an obligation to keep things
pretty much on the up and up. It was okay to have this kid comfortable
with me touching him, that was a necessary part of the work we would
be doing. Anything more sexual than teasing and playing around would
be pretty counterproductive. At least I thought it would be.

By the time I was done with his right leg most of the water had
evaporated from his body so I sent him to shower off the loose hair
and soap foam. He quickly rinsed off and then climbed right back up on
the bench in front of me. Smiling right at me, he spread his legs and
put his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers so he could keep
them up there a long time. Smiling back at him, shaking my head in
amazement at what a naturally great kid this was, I sprayed my hand
full of shaving foam.

Shaving this kid's groin was a revelation to me. I'd messed around
with guys before. Mostly when the hornies got real bad and the pussy
prospects were dim. But I'd never been this excited by anyone I'd been
to bed with, much less just taken a shower with. I don't usually leak
much before sex, but I had a solid stream of ooze dripping in long
viscid strings from my dick head to the shower floor. I shook my head
to get some sense into it. I knew I was going to have trouble keeping
this whole thing on a professional level and that I was going to have
to help Ken move to the motel the next day. I didn't like the idea
because I was pretty sure, especially after having my hands all over
his body, that Ken's lack of first-class performance was a lot more
psychologically based than anything physical, and to work on the
psychological aspects the more contact I had with him, the better the
results were likely to be.

None of this thinking had much effect on my pleasure in shaving Ken's
crotch. His boner stuck up so straight that I had to pull it down and
hold it down to shave his pubes. They slid off under the sharp blade
in tight little mats of soft blonde ringlets. I wiped them off the
blade on a washcloth, knowing that I was going to hide that washcloth
until I could retrieve Ken's pubes and put them somewhere for
safekeeping. The feeling of his stiffness in my hand brought back
memories of me and my younger brother playing around together years
ago. The way his whole body buzzed like a high-energy electric wire
reminded me of an almost endless night in Southern California with a
certain young beach-bunny. The throbbing between my legs reminded me
that I'd damn well better get myself under control.

I enjoyed every minute I spent finishing Ken's shave. I was totally
amazed at Ken's strength and flexibility when I reached to test behind
his balls for any possible last remaining hairs. In one smooth
movement Ken shifted his stance, reaching down to grab his ankle in
both hands while lifting his other leg into what can only be described
as vertical splits --- resting there calmly, perfectly in balance as
he exposed the taint between his balls and asshole to me. I moved
behind him and held him against me so that he wouldn't loose his
balance and fall as I carefully shaved the tender exposed skin.

I closed my arm around Ken and walked over to the shower with him.
When I set him down on his foot and let go he straightened up and
stood there passively as I used the warm cascade of water and my bare
hands to wash his body clear of the last traces of shaving cream and
hair. I continued to use my hands to soap Ken up and wash him off.
When I rinsed him off and started to wash myself, Ken very quietly
took the soap from me and returned my favors by carefully, and
thoroughly washing my body. Nothing he did was overly sexual, in fact,
his bathing me was as non-sexual as one man washing another could be.
Non-sexual, and so erotic that by the time he was done I was ready to
jump right out of my skin. I politely declined his offer to dry me and
tossed him a towel before drying myself. When I was ready to leave I
told him that I had some work to do in the den and for him to get his
room straightened up. If he wanted to watch TV he should keep it down
so that it didn't disturb me but that he should think about getting
some sleep because it was going to be an early and long day. Almost
pouting, but not quite, he watched me leave.

I threw my towel in the hamper and went to my room, walking naked down
the hallway. Normally, I would have stayed naked for the rest of the
evening after my shower, but tonight I put on a terrycloth robe before
going to the den. I tried to write up my daily notes and a preliminary
training plan on Ken but ended up spending most of the time thinking
about how to handle Ken and how to break the news to him that he was
going to have to move into the motel after all. Thoughts kept
intruding of how Ken, shaved, looked so much like a prepubescent
twelve-year-old. A very, VERY horny twelve-year-old! Smooth. Sleek.
Full of energy and the joy of life. Reaching, searching, demanding to
find the very best life had to offer. There was something about this
tiny eighteen-year-old that demanded that I take care of him. Protect
him. Nurture him. Help him grow to be all that he could be. Love him.

Finally exhausted, hornier than I'd been in years, or maybe forever, I
gave up and headed for bed. The lights were out in Ken's room, so I
figured he had gone to bed. I closed the door to my bedroom, another
thing I didn't usually do and tossed the robe over the back of a
chair. My erection lead the way to my bed, knowing that it was finally
going to get the treatment it deserved. I reached to flip the covers
back and only then saw mussed blond hair crowning a face of total
innocence on the pillow next to mine. The slight body barely made a
lump in the covers.

Looking down, I broke the news to Willie Peter that he was going to
have to go to sleep without any messing around. Shaking my head, I
crawled into bed as quietly as I could. I covered up and only then saw
bright eyes glinting in the moonlight, watching me.

"What are you doing in my bed?" I asked, my voice rough with
suppressed need and irritation.

"I didn't want to sleep alone. My Dad and brother always let me sleep
with them. You don't mind? Do you?"

Sighing in defeat (His dad and brother slept together?) I said, "No.
It's okay. But get to sleep now. We have to be up early."

I closed my eyes, hoping to close out any further discussion but felt
the bed move and a head come to rest next to mine on my pillow as a
warm, hairless body curled up next to mine. I started to tell Ken to
get up and go to his own room, but he got in the first word, and I was
doomed.

"Mr. Hopkins? Don't you like me?"

I could hear the barely suppressed tears in his voice, but had to at
least try to protect my self-image. "Of course I like you. You're a
good kid. But it's time for you to go to your own bed now."

"My Dad and brother get horny..." I felt his hand just barely touch my
hardness, "...just like you are. They say that they work too hard to
waste time trying to seduce women, especially when I'm so good at
making them feel good. Better than any woman they know. My Daddy told
me that I needed to find someone to give me what I need when I came to
school." Now I did hear tears. "I know I'm just a boy, but don't you
like me, maybe just a little bit?"

"Ken. I like you a lot. Too much maybe. You're a nice kid, and you
make me crazy you look so good. But I'm going to be one of your
teachers, and I just don't think it's right to take advantage of you."

"You're going to make me go to that Motel, aren't you."

"Well..."

I felt hot tears against my shoulder and felt like an asshole. I'd
given this kid every reason to think that I liked him, and wanted
something special from him, and now I was rejecting him. Obviously he
was used to having older men take care of him, and wanted me to take
his father and brothers place in his life, at least while he was at
school. I knew that I couldn't hurt this scared kid.

Rolling onto my side, I pulled him into my arms. He buried his head
under my chin and cried against my chest. I held him and stroked his
back as he cried, trying to figure out what to do. Ken calmed down,
and I thought he'd gone to sleep. And then I heard his voice, muffled
against my chest.

"Mr. Hopkins. Will you take me to the bus station in the morning? I
want to go home...."

Jeeze. Jeeze! This kid was willing to give up everything he'd worked
so hard for just because I was too up-tight to accept the fact that
someone wanted to have sex with me. I pulled his face up to mine and
let go. Kissing him with all the passion that I'd been trying to
suppress, I let my hands wander his body, not in the healing, caring
way I'd been trying to constrain myself to, but in an openly sexual, I
want to feel your fabulous body way that left no questions about what
I wanted --- or intended! I reached behind me, trying to fumble the
bedside table drawer open to get to my tube of KY.

"I already took care of that!" Ken said through teeth clamped on my
swollen lower lip.

I brought my hand back down to Ken's hot body and slid down his spine
to his fine, high, tight butt. A questing finger confirmed what he
said. He was lubed and, obviously, ready to go --- tugging at me and
trying to tease me into action. I held back, deciding to show him
right up front who was in charge. I did hold back too. Right up to the
point where he had me so hot I was ready to punch a hole in the
mattress to get long denied relief.

I rolled him over on his back and his legs pulled up and wrapped
tightly around my waist. Afraid of hurting him, I tried one more time,
"Ken, sweetheart, I'm afraid I might hurt you."

Ken just giggled and wiggled up against me, his hot hand grasping my
member and guiding it towards its intended target. "Daddy says I could
fuck a horse to death if I decided to!"

Helpless to resist my need, our mutual need, any longer, I felt
smoothness, hot velvety smoothness, slide over my cockhead as my
foreskin pulled back, exposing my sensitivity to the warmth of the
target that snuggled up, kissing the pouting lips of its intended
intruder. With a sigh that became a cry of passion, I moved forward
into the burning heat of Ken's suddenly churning butt. Totally beyond
holding back I sunk my stem to its full depth and cried out as my long
denied release spewed forth so violently that it hurt.

The feeling of the smooth body twisting and turning beneath me in
rapturous passion brought back memories of my parents divorce, of my
father leaving with my beloved little brother, leaving me with my
alcoholic shrew of a mother until I could forge her name to the papers
that allowed me to join the service and escape her.

My inhibitions released by Ken's loving, fervent lovemaking, I cried
like a baby. Falling apart with the suppressed pain of losing my
father, who I loved and respected, and my brother, who had always been
my best friend and, for the two years before he was taken away from
me, my lover.

Ken held me. Holding me and protecting me. Not knowing what was wrong.
Not asking. Just holding on and being there for me. Showing that same
innate wisdom and compassion my baby brother had always had when we
were so many years younger than Ken and I.

I finally managed to regain control of myself, and was just feeling
ashamed of loosing control like that. Ken, still under me and being
filled by my emotion hardened manhood, giggled.

"Well. THAT was certainly a release." he teased. "Think you can show
me how you make love now, or is that all you do? Stick it in and shoot?"

God! It could have been Billy talking! Giving me a hard time about
acting stupid. I spent a good part of the rest of the night proving to
Ken just what a good lover I could be when I tried. And I tried
really, really hard!

-----

Getting cleaned up and ready for school the next morning was messy,
but fun. I'd sort of forgotten some of the somewhat dubious pleasures
of having a little brother around the place. Like water fights in the
shower, and six spoonfuls of sugar in my coffee when I wasn't looking.
I insisted that Ken call me Darrel except when we were at school. Ken
insisted that I not get dressed until I absolutely had to. He said
that he liked watching my butt as I walked. I laughed, but didn't get
dressed until just before I took him out to breakfast.

Ken asked if he could use the phone and I said sure, that this was his
house now and he should treat it as his home.

"I don't have to go to the motel then?"

I hugged him up against me and looked down at him. "Ken. This is your
home away from home as long as you want it to be. Will you please stay
with me while you're going to school?"

He just grinned and ran off to use the phone. A while later he called
for me. I stuck my head out of the kitchen and looked into the living
room where he was standing, holding the telephone handset out to me.
"Daddy wants to talk to you Mr. Hopkins."

Mr. Hopkins? This did NOT sound good. I walked into the livingroom,
wiping my wet hands off on my naked sides. "Mr. Sweet? This is Darrel
Hopkins."

"Hello, Mr. Hopkins. I understand that my boy has attached himself to
you."

"Uh... Sir. I assure you..."

Laughter broke in. "He's already got you stuttering, does he." Still
chuckling, mostly to himself, he went on. "Mr. Hopkins. Ken has told
me all about you and how much trouble he had getting you to take him
to bed. Now, now. Don't get me wrong. I heartily approve. You sound
just like the sort of person Ken needs. The only reason that I wanted
to talk to you was to say hello and reassure you that Ken is old
enough to make up his own mind about who he goes to bed with. That,
and I want to warn you..."

"Uh..."

Mr. Sweet started laughing again. "He's really gotten to you, hasn't
he!" In a much more serious voice, he went on, "You watch out for that
boy Mr. Hopkins. You don't keep him in line and you'll regret it. You
tell him that I told you to take him across your knee and blister his
bottom --- as necessary."

"That's right, Mr. Hopkins!" another voice cut in. "You let my little
brother have an inch, and he'll take everything in sight. He may look
like a sweet little choirboy, but he's got more of the devil in him
than any dozen juvenile delinquents you can find."

Ken's dad laughed again. "Robert's got the right of it Mr. Hopkins.
You watch out for that boy or you're headed for deep trouble. I'm
proud that a man of your caliber is going to be with my son. You take
care of him while he's at school and you'll have my undying gratitude,
Sir. Now, Let me talk to that scamp again so you guys can get your day
started."

I handed the telephone back to Ken and stood there thinking, and
listening to him say, "Yes, Sir" half a dozen times before he said,
"Bye, Daddy. Bye Robbie." and hung up.

He turned and smiled up at me. I frowned at him. "Did you really think
you were going to pull the wool over my eyes.

Grinning impudently, he shrugged and said, "Well, it was worth a try."

It was going to be a LONG summer.

-----

This is just one of the stories "Mr. Hopkins" has told me. I may
"translate" a few more to the written word in the future. Espically if
there are  requests.  The Author