Date: Mon, 12 Nov 2007 20:48:23 +1100 From: iarwain@aanet.com.au Subject: Pauls Story. Chapters 2 & 3. Usual Disclaimer: If you are not 18 years old yet do not read. If you are offended by male to male sexual content definitely do not read. If the laws in your state or county forbid this type of material, do not read. Otherwise enjoy the story and genuine comments will be appreciated. The author retains copyright (2007) to this story. Reproducing this story for distribution without the author's permission is a violation of that copyright. This story is fiction. Thank you Nifty for the opportunity to post this story. Paul's Story. Chapter Two. "You're early." "Um! ...Yes, I was hoping we could finish by a quarter past nine." Paul didn't really. He just wanted to see their reaction. "Well, okay, that's all right. You help us and we'll help you. We'll stop at ten past." A can of Cola and a two litre bottle of orange juice was brought in, along with a packet of Tim-Tams. When Paul sat on the sofa to have his drink the van guy handed him a CD. "A copy of last week's session. Most of the pics are there but they're not high-res." Paul was quite surprised and wondered what he was going to do with it. He'd have to hide it till he could look at it on the flat computer. "Ready for action, Gymboy?" "Gymboy?" "Yeah, those exercise shots worked so well we're going to make it a feature and call you Gymboy. We've got a few props and we'll spend some time on it each session. Get the lights going Johnno." Paul stood up, nodded when two more of the big notes were slipped in his pocket, then walked over near the mat. "Wear the blue tracksuit, without the top." The cameras clicked and five minutes later Paul was in the light blue running shorts with white edgings. Again? They were the gear he'd been most uncomfortable about because of their thin loose material. His thoughts must have been obvious. "They're effective. They show you off so well we've got a couple more pairs like them." For a couple of minutes Paul did his normal exercises but then they brought out some light bar-bells and a low padded bench, and from then on almost everything he did was directed, with both cameras going non-stop. "Just what we want. Now try these." At first glance they were the same. The same brand, and even the same color, but when he put them on they were at least a size smaller. "They're too small." "That's the whole idea." They were so short that every time he lifted one leg or the other, it felt like he was going to flop out and lots of their directions emphasised that. They took even more photos too, and Paul felt quite uneasy when lots of them were from a very low angle. The last thing he had to wear for the Gymboy shots was a light blue jock strap. At least he was able to go back to normal exercises. "D'you like Tim-Tam's?" "Um! ...Yes." In fact Paul loved anything with chocolate in it. "Help yourself then, while we get organised." Paul sat on the sofa, relieved that the photos had stopped. He was used to wearing jock straps since it was part of his gym uniform and he also wore them for running, but standing in front of the cameras was different. What were they doing? They had an electric kettle and a big saucepan of water and the Johnno guy had a couple of plastic guns? ...Water pistols? ...He was going to get squirted? Paul wanted to know where the toilet was and when he came back he was handed a pair of speedos. At least he was used to changing in front of them now. Bright red, so low at the front his pubes were showing, once again too small, and he could hardly fit himself into them. He tried stretching the material but it had hardly any give. "Stand on the mat. Hands behind your neck. Now arch up and stretch every muscle in your body, then hold." They took about ten shots each and then he could relax. "Now, for this series we have two different effects in each position, so each time I give a nod you rearrange yourself." Paul looked at him blankly. "Your dick. Its swim-wear. Some guys wear it like you, and some arrange themselves to the side. You must have seen that. Go on, we're waiting for the shots." Embarrassed, Paul did what he was asked, then repeated the muscle stretching thing while they took more shots. Another twenty minutes of changing from pose to pose passed quickly, each time involving the different effect, as they called it, and he was soon doing the rearranging with a quick flip of his pointer finger to the side, then a tuck with his whole hand to put himself back. There was another short break for a drink and the Tim-Tams and then the whole thing happened all over with a pair of light blue speedos. At least they weren't as tight. "Okay you're going to get wet now but the water's warm." The break had been longer this time while the extra memory cards were offloaded into the computer. Out of a plastic bag came a white pair of speedos. God, tight fitting ones again. They were'nt quite as bad, because the material was soft and stretchy, but they were low again at the front like the red ones. The water didn't start for another five minutes and then they spread a large sheet of black plastic over the mat. Sometimes he was squirted with the water pistols, sometimes splashed or dribbled on with a small jug, and a couple of times Paul had to pour it himself. It wasn't unpleasant as it had all been warmed. The bathers were soaked and he still had to do the rearranging business every few moments. "How are we going for time Johnno?" "A quarter to nine." "Hmm! Not quite half an hour. We better get on with the see-through." Paul was towelling himself down at one side, watching the cleanup. See-through? That didn't sound good, and when he opened a plastic bag it was worse. "Is this swimwear?" "Yeah, a thong." Did he really have to wear this thing? It didn't look like there was enough material to cover him, and where was the back? It only had a thin strap. Very quickly, because both the guys were watching, he peeled off the white speedos and pulled on the thong. It felt wrong, almost like the jockstrap. The strap at the back kind of disappeared and the front was the wrong shape. "Not like that. It's designed to hold you upwards. Look at the picture on the package." Oh no. So that was why the front came halfway up to his belly button. The two guys went over to the computer so Paul moved to the mat and experimented with arranging himself while they weren't there. Pushing himself down just didn't work. It lasted only till he moved and then the design somehow worked his dick upwards. The see-through business wasn't quite as bad as it sounded because though the light blue material was very thin, you couldn't really see through it. "Let's see some exercises first." That went for five minutes. There was five minutes of the directed posing and then the water pistol went into play. Not all over this time, just at the thong till it was soaked and then Paul discovered what they meant by see-through. The material moulded and changed its characteristics so there was nothing left to the imagination. The cameras clicked furiously as they changed him from pose to pose, front, back, and side, stretching and bending, in endless variations till they had to stop. "We've run out of time. We'll continue this set next week." Again Paul was hustled off with directions to turn up at 7:30 the next Tuesday. On the way home he thought it all over. Three more sessions would mean just about enough to pay off all his purchases. It was easy money. The costumes were getting ruder, but he was coping with that and they couldn't get any worse than the thong. Tony was in the TV room when he got to Roklin and followed Paul into the kitchen when he went for a snack. What did he want? He was full on putting on the charm. In the end Paul went out with him to a nearby park. He didn't really want to, but it would keep them on good terms. "I've got something to try. It's really good stuff." "What sort of stuff?" Tony pulled out a little packet which Paul instantly recognized as marijuana. "No thanks Tony. I'm not into that." "Why not?" "I'm just not. Is it bush or hydro?" "What?" "Is it bush-grown or hydroponic?" "What's the difference?" Typical. He didn't know anything about it. "Hydro's a lot stronger." "Hydro I'd say." Paul didn't want anything to do with this, but stayed with Tony who kept trying to persuade him to take just one puff. "Tony, I'm trying to keep fit. Putting smoke in my lungs won't help. You know that." Paul wasn't sure if that was right for marijuana, but it sounded good and Tony nodded knowingly. They sat talking and laughing in the cool of the night, then had to rush to get in before the doors were locked. In his room Paul stripped to his boxers and stretched on the bed, thinking. After a while he pulled the $200 out of his jeans and held it in one hand looking at it. Two weeks work at the gym and this had only taken two hours. Easy too, if you didn't let yourself get embarrassed. They wanted him three more times, three hundred for him and three hundred for sis. That would be another $600 altogether. Was he really good enough to be a model? What sort of story would he use for sis? She'd kill him if he said he'd sold more radios. He jumped up and looked at himself in the mirror on the inside door of his cupboard. He was fit. Alan and Mick liked it that way as it gave a good impression at the gym. They encouraged him to use the equipment and had even worked out a routine for him. He flexed a few muscles then laughed at himself for being a poser. There were enough posers at the gym without him joining in. Gosh! What did he look like in the modelling poses? He'd have to wait till Thursday afternoon at sis's flat before he could check the CD. * * * "Hey Paul, what are you doing when we finish here?" "Nothing special. I might stop in the city for a look around." "Let's go swimming." "Swimming?" Paul was surprised by that. Arthur was fun and friendly, but he wasn't interested in sport stuff at all. "Yeah, I know a pool where we could hang out for a few hours." "I haven't got any bathers." "Neither have I. We can just use our shorts. They'll dry out quick enough." Paul liked swimming though he didn't do much of it, and agreed straight off. It would be better than hanging round the city. He could do that tomorrow. They grabbed some food at the school canteen because it was only half the price as ordinary shops, then caught a train and a bus. Wow, the pool looked beautiful with its sparkling clear water, sprawling lawns and a few shady trees. "Come on, I know a good possie. You can see everything." See? What did that mean? It only cost a couple of dollars on their student concessions to get through the entrance, and Arthur lead the way to a spot near the deep end. "See? Is there something happening?" "Sure is! Look at that!" For the next hour and a half Paul pretended he was getting turned on by the girls getting in and out of the pool. He and Arthur went in the water a few times, and wandered round the pool. Arthur agreed happily when Paul told him he was a perve and pointed out his selection of the best ones. He was really hot for a beautiful black haired girl with dark skin, and each time she climbed out of the pool he'd carry on about her. "Go and speak to her." "No way. You're not allowed to. I tried it once and she got into trouble." That was a load of bull. Paul knew Arthur wouldn't have been game. It took twenty minutes in the sun to dry out after their last swim, and after the return bus trip, they parted ways at the railway station. What a wanker! He went to the pool every fortnight to perv at that Girls School swimming classes, mostly because of that black headed one. It was funny listening to him though. *** At the end of his three hours gym work, Paul didn't bother with his normal shower as he decided to go to the park after tea for an hour's running. That meant not eating too much, watching telly for a while, then heading out in his running gear, his faithful pair of runners, the Nike shorts he'd got from an Op shop and a light blue T-shirt from the same place. The park was in a great location, bordering the edge of the Yarra River. It went for kilometre after kilometre with a combined bike and walking track meandering through the large grassy areas, small clumps of trees and bush, with here and there a shelter or picnic area. It was really a whole series of parks maintained by different suburbs. Earlier in the year he used to run along the track in the dusk. Now he headed for the community oval. It wasn't as interesting, doing lap after lap, but public lighting at each end meant you could see where you were going, plus the advantage of being able to calculate the distance easily. Yes, he was feeling good tonight. How many laps? Thirty. That was a good work out and he'd up the speed for the last four. Wow, that wrecked him and felt great at the same time. After catching his breath from his last burst of effort, Paul set off walking back to Roklin. His muscles told him to sit down but according to Alan, a relaxed walk was much better and the half kilometre distance was ideal. Mark was being a pain and hogging the bathroom so Paul went to the little laundry and gave his sweaty running gear a quick hand wash in a bucket of hot water then put it through the spin dryer. It only took a moment with his shorts, jockstrap, socks and shirt and when he draped them over his chair overnight they'd be practically dry by the morning. The others called him a washer-woman, but blowed if he was going to waste money at the laundromat when he could do his cleaning here for free. Mark was still in the bathroom, having a shave now, but he let Paul in anyway. The shower was wonderful. He always felt great after a shower, and he had this theory that a hot shower was good for muscles when they'd been working hard at a run. God damn! That idiot Mark. Well, he'd never fall for that trick again. From now on he wasn't sharing the bathroom with any of them. No towel, no tracksuit or boxers. Nothing. Not even anyone else's towel left to use as cover. It meant he'd have to make a dash for his room, past the doorway to the TV room where they'd all be waiting. The dash went well, and he was past in a flash. He caught a glimpse of Mark looking and thought he'd got through but then the problems started. Oh No! His door was locked. He'd left it that way of course, but the keys were in his tracksuit. What would they have done with his clothes? Mark appeared in the hallway, followed by both Tony and Ray, all of them smirking. "That's a bit rude, streaking round the place." "Where are they?" "Where's what?" "My clothes. ...Or my keys." That just got more smirks, and then they started giving suggestions, of which under the street light on the other side of the road was the worst. He wouldn't put it past them though. "They're here in the TV room." The other two looked at Tony as if to say he'd let them down but Paul sensed it was all a put on. How was he going to get round this? No way was he going in there naked. Yes. He had a good idea and darted into the laundry where he remembered seeing someone's towel. Well, it was a good idea till he was in the middle of the TV room and three pairs of hands all snatched at once. Gone was the towel, not a piece of his clothing was in sight and he was trapped between the three of them. Where was Brian? There was no time to worry because a pair of arms wrapped around him and trapped his arms. Paul struggled, but to no avail. He reckoned he could have managed any two of them, but three was too many and they quickly had him helpless on his back on the carpet. If he hadn't been naked it would have just felt like mucking round, but being naked was the big feature, both for them in their way and for Paul in his. Where the hell was Brian? He was meant to be here at this time of night. "Grab him Mark!" "Piss off Tony. What do you think I am? Grab him yourself." They were all looking at Paul's dick and there was a short impasse. Paul struggled again, it might keep them distracted from any thing more drastic, but it didn't work because they had him held so securely. When he stopped struggling again, his dick became the talking point. "What d'you reckon Ray? Has he been using it?" "Yeah, only in his room though. That's why he keeps the door locked." They thought that was particularly funny and Paul didn't bother pointing out that they all kept locked doors. "What's he done to his balls? Why hasn't he got any hair on them?" Now it was his balls being examined. "Just because you've got hairy balls doesn't mean everyone else has." Tony, who was holding Paul's legs, reached for an empty Coke bottle, poked it against Paul's balls and made him jerk away. That happened a few more times because they liked the reaction. "What'll we do? Brian'll be back in a few minutes." They nearly let him go but Tony had some sort of idea. "Hold him and I'll be back in a sec." Paul made a try, and nearly succeeded in escaping, but then Tony was back and he was flattened again. "What is it?" "You watch. This'll make him jump. You ready Paul?" "You wait Tony. I'll get you for this." That didn't worry them in the least and Paul watched as the lid was screwed from a small plastic bottle. He couldn't see the labelling under Tony's fingers but he found out straight away from Mark and Ray's demands. "Aftershave!" Oh God no. Paul tried another struggle but had to watch as the bottle was up-ended and a stream of drops splashed against his balls. Another squeeze and the cold liquid splashed on his dick. Another squeeze, and another, and his whole groin was damp and cold from what must have been almost half the bottle. The cold only lasted a few seconds and then the chemicals started working. "Oh hell Tony! Let me go. Quick! It's hurting!" They did let go. There was a tone in his voice that told them they had to, then watched as Paul grabbed at his balls and started rubbing. The rubbing didn't help. It made things worse and at the same time made him rub more. He was on his feet in a flash and racing for the bathroom and the shower. When he turned the taps off a few minutes later all his gear had mysteriously turned up in a pile just inside the door. Well, at least he didn't have to go out naked again and beg for it. He dressed in his tracksuit and T-shirt, walked towards his room and stopped in the TV room doorway. "You three are a pack of wankers." He gave enough of a grin to tell them they hadn't got under his skin too much. You had to be tough enough to take what you got or life would be harder. Except Mark would have lost his temper, and Tony would have got everyone back somehow if it had been him. In his room, Paul had a close look. He still felt heat from the aftershave and his skin was red as. What brand was that stuff? Fancy putting it on your face. It must only need a couple of drops. His fingers tested the red skin carefully, resting lightly on the affected parts to see if they were actually as hot as they looked. His balls were relaxed and all dangly after the exercise and two showers and he played with them gently. They really were very smooth. Mark was right about that. Well, he was only just seventeen. That would probably change in a few more years, though at the gym he did notice a few older guys who were still fairly smooth. The end of Chapter Two. Chapter Three. In the morning he had to leave by eight to be in time for his nine o'clock math's class and the only one he had to put up with was Mark, commenting about streaking and hot balls. What was he doing up so early? He didn't have to be out till 9:30 a.m. That was one of the rules. Everyone had to be out by 9:30 a.m. and you couldn't come back till 4:30 p.m. It was a pest of a rule but it was there for the supervisors so they didn't have twenty-four hour responsibility. That was fair enough. Imagine having to put up with Mark and Ray and Tony all day long. Maths was easy. They were doing a module on percentage and commission and it caught his interest because of the sound system and the discounts the salesman had talked about. Was that all you had to do to figure it out? After half an hour he was way ahead and decided to slow down so the teacher didn't give him an extra module. He started helping Jarrod. Paul felt kind of guilty about Jarrod. Jarrod thought Paul was just being helpful and friendly, which was true enough, but the big reason he didn't know about was Paul's fascination. Paul liked looking at Jarrod and being near him. He was as good-looking as any of the guys on Gaycheck. Better than most of them really, and Paul imagined him as being one of his specials. While they were talking he had an idea "Hey Jarrod, have you got any other classes today?" "No, nothing. Why?" "I haven't either. D'you want to hack around for a while?" "Um! ...Sure. Where at?" "I dunno. D'you like swimming much? I know where there's a great pool." "Man, I love swimming. Where is it?" Paul explained and was ready for the next logical question. "What about bathers?" "Yeah, I haven't got any either but I know where we can get some." "To buy?" "They won't cost much. Probably a couple of dollars." "Sure too!" An hour and a half later they were fossicking through a big box labelled swimwear, in an Op shop near the station. Paul held up a pair of light green surf shorts. "What about these?" "Not for me. I don't like shorts in the water. They flap round and fill up with air. I'm used to speedos." Paul dumped the shorts and they pulled out all the speedo type bathers they could find. There were lots of them but a quick sort through left four pairs that might fit. "Hey. I'll have those red ones? Red's my color." "They might be a bit small." "Well, let's try them anyway." They took all four pairs and when they got to the single change room Paul held back, but Jarrod told him to come in. It was a strange feeling, being in the little room with four of them. Well, the full-length mirror on the side wall made it seem like four. Oh Boy, this adaptation of Arthur's reason to go to the pool was working before they even got there. In a moment, Jarrod had everything off except his jocks, and then they went. "Give us the red ones. I'll try them first." Paul didn't know where to look. Well, he did, but he didn't want Jarrod knowing that. There was a laugh. Jarrod was looking at himself in the mirror. "Jeez! You try them. They are a bit too small." He stripped them off and stood waiting. While Paul pulled his boxers off the thought came that he might still be red from last night. Well, too bad. He wriggled into the speedos and tucked his bits in. No way would he be wearing these. "Jarrod, they're at least two sizes too small." "Yeah, I suppose. Try the blue striped ones." Paul did that, then the light green ones and the multi-coloured ones. Jarrod watched, the whole time nonchalantly naked, while Paul got more and more bothered. His face went bright red, which Jarrod noticed. "What is it?" It was now quite obvious and once it started, there was no stopping it. "Um! ...Sorry." Jarrod was grinning. "Sorry? What for? Mine does that all time." Now he was staring. "Man, that's a good one. Does it last long?" Paul relaxed somewhat at Jarrod's carefree attitude. "Ages!" Jarrod nodded then casually gave Paul a squeeze. "Jeez! Like a rock!" Paul was totally taken by surprise. His mouth opened as if to answer but no sound came out. God! His dick surged with extra pressure. Hard wasn't the word for it. "Hey, now I've started." Paul watched Jarrod's dick grow. He felt like he shouldn't, but with Jarrod facing straight towards him there was nothing else to do without appearing embarrassed. The only expression Paul could read from Jarrod was curiosity. Jarrod gave a snort of laughter. "How am I meant to try the speedos now?" Paul passed across the light green ones. Jarrod pulled them on and tried several ways of forcing himself in. "Come on Paul. Try the red ones again. I want to see if you can even get into them." That wasn't possible, but Paul tried . Understanding that Jarrod was making a game of the situation, Paul relaxed even more and went along with it. "Not like that. Push it to the side." For the second time Paul was shocked. Jarrod was holding him again, moving him sideways and trying to push him in behind the red material. There was another burst of pressure. No way could he be forced in now. There was a tap on the door and they both froze. "Is there anybody in there?" It was a lady's voice. Of course she knew they were in there, and Paul wondered if she'd heard anything they'd said. Jarrod's mouth opened in a silent laugh. "We're just finishing." There was a scramble to get their clothes on and when they emerged a little old lady gave them a funny look. "I hope the red bathers fit one of you." She disappeared behind the closing door, leaving Paul and Jarrod staring at each other. Somehow they managed to make it out at the shop, after purchasing the blue and white striped bathers and the light green ones for two dollars each, before exploding from their pent up laughter. Jarrod loved it. Well, Paul did too, and they discussed it most of the way to the pool. "She must have been there for ages. What d'you reckon she heard?" Paul had that worked out. "Everything. She knew we both tried the red speedos so she must have been there almost from the start." "Everything? ...God, she must have thought we were getting it on in there. Remember? I said you were really hard." "You said I had a good one too. She must have heard because we weren't speaking in soft voices." "No wonder she looked at us. Did you see her face?" "Yeah, she did look at us funny didn't she?" They reached the pool, changed, and Paul led the way to the same spot he'd used the other day with Arthur. It was a good spot, underneath a shady tree, and they dropped their packs and looked round. It was very different today, and with no school there it was empty by comparison. Jarrod was keen to get in. He must have meant it when he said he liked swimming, and led the way. They sat on the edge, dangling their legs to test the water, then Jarrod slid off in a quick, lithe, motion. He surfaced with his eyes wide open, laughing. "Brass monkeys! Come on!" Paul sat there as if he'd changed his mind then started laughing when Jarrod lunged for his legs and started tugging. He couldn't be budged so Jarrod changed tactics. "Give us a hand then and pull me out." Letting himself be tricked, Paul extended his hand and was, of course, pulled into the water. It was a bit of a shock after the warm sun, but not really bad. He took a breath and grabbing the edge for support, looked round for Jarrod. Not there? Too late, an underwater force took him down, and amongst a flurry of bubbles he made out the blurred form in light green bathers. Oh no, attacked again. This time Jarrod used a downward push on Paul's shoulders to launch himself to the surface while Paul went deeper. Caught unawares, Paul swam frantically to get the breath he'd lost when he was pulled under. Jarrod was now sitting on the edge, but the leg grabbing trick didn't work on him either, and when Paul started climbing out of the pool he stood up. "Catch me if you can." He leapt, in a racing dive, hesitated long enough to see that Paul was following, then zoomed away. What a joke! How many more surprises was he going to get from Jarrod. He tried hard but Jarrod was way ahead. At the other end he waited till Paul arrived and then set off again. Paul was wrecked and gasping by the time they reached the deep end. Boy, Jarrod could swim rings around him. Paul laughed at himself for reading Jarrod so badly. They kept at it for about twenty minutes, with Jarrod initiating most of the activities, then dumped themselves on the grass near their belongings. Not in the shade, their bodies were craving warmth after the cool water, and a lazy, happy half-hour passed before they were looking for coolness again. They talked and talked, with Paul's opinion of Jarrod changing all the time. How could he have been so wrong about him? In class he'd put him in the losers category, mainly because he was so hopeless at the maths, but also because he was quiet and kept to himself. "How come you're so good at swimming Jarrod? I didn't think you were into sport." "I'm not really. Except for squash and swimming. I was in a swimming team for a couple of years because mum and dad thought it would be good for me, but I came last in just about everything. I had a friend who kept me going till his family moved." "You reckon you're not good? You walked all over me." "That was easy. You're hopeless." He was looking for Paul's reaction. "Hopeless! You wait!" Enjoying himself, Paul dived at Jarrod and quickly pinned him down. "Now say I'm hopeless...If you're game." "Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless." "Right, you've had it." A few bounces on his stomach very quickly had Jarrod begging for mercy. "Mercy? Sure, as soon as you say I'm not hopeless." "I'm not hopeless." Paul laughed and bounced a couple more times. "You're not hopeless. You're not hopeless." Paul laughed again and set him free. "That was cheating. You're stronger than me." "So? How's that cheating?" "If you had someone bouncing on you, you'd say anything too." "Oh Yeah? Go on then. I bet I don't." The challenge was offered and accepted. Jarrod sat on Paul's stomach and promptly started bouncing. "Come on. Beg for mercy." Paul wasn't going to give in and they both knew it. His muscles were strong from his gym work and all he had to do was tense them up and he could cope with Jarrod's weight quite easily. "Cheat. You're too strong. All right. I'm not moving till you say you're hopeless." "Not moving?" "Yes, and you're not allowed to tip me off." Paul wasn't quite sure what that meant. "I'm not?" "No, it means you've chickened out if you do." The challenge was given and so it was accepted. Paul nodded, then jumped when Jarrod reached down and started tickling. He jumped more and more till he nearly toppled Jarrod off. The tickling stopped and Paul recovered his breath. "Not fair. Tickling's cheating." "Weak. All right, I'll still get you. I've got another idea that I reckon will work. Hey! ...Paul, do you think that lady knew we both had boners?" "What? ...Um! One of us anyway." "From when I said you were hard?" Paul nodded. This was a weird change of topic. "Both. I said something about mine growing too. Remember. She might have thought we were wanking?" "No way." Jarrod flashed his big grin. "We might have been. You were hard enough." There was something about that grin. Jarrod wriggled his butt, to get more comfortable probably, then wriggled backwards a bit. "What...What are you doing?" "Getting comfortable. Tell me about your boner. Was that as hard as it gets?" "My boner?" That was the instant that Paul knew what Jarrod was doing. Surely not, he couldn't be serious? "Guess what Paul? On my swim team we had guys we called growers. All we had to do was talk about boners and they'd get one. Do you know anyone like that?" Paul looked round to see if anyone was watching. It must look rude the way they were positioned. He couldn't see anyone. He wriggled uncomfortably and Jarrod gave a delighted laugh. "Don't tip me off. You said you wouldn't. Hey, what's happening?" He knew very well what was happening because Paul had just had to make another wriggle. "Um. ..Jarrod! ...You win." "Why? Are you embarrassed?" "Totally!" "So. ...You are a grower aren't you?" "Can I roll over now before someone notices?" "What would you do if I checked you out again?" He laughed when he saw the look on Paul's face then wriggled even further back to get a clear view. "Man, that's a good one. Does it last long?" What an idiot. Paul recognized the replay of the changing room and kind of without thinking, went along. "Ages." "Jeez! You do get hard don't you? " He even completed the replay with the same action. It was too much and Paul twisted onto his stomach, dislodging Jarrod in the process. "Hey, now I've started." He even sounded delighted about it. Paul watched him adjust himself in the light green speedos. He was lying on his side and no one else would be able to see, but Paul could. "You're mad Jarrod. What if someone walks past?" "I'll roll on my stomach. I bet your boner lasts longer than mine." Paul couldn't help laughing at him. "It will if you keep talking about it." "So, I'll keep talking then. You've never had anyone touch it before today. I could tell by your reaction." Paul shook his head. "Um! ....Does that mean. ..?" "Stacks of times. I'm a grower, like you, and those swim team guys were always getting me." "Didn't it worry you?" "A bit at the start, but I was only fifteen. It was just for laughs though and I soon got used to it." "I've never spoken to anyone about boners before." That made Jarrod laugh. "We're making up for it today. Are you still hard?" "Yes." "Show me." "Why?" "I want to see how long it takes you to stop being embarrassed." "I'm not embarrassed." That was a total fib and set them both grinning. "Go on Paul, show me, or I'll grab it in front of everyone." "You wouldn't dare." "Want to bet?" "That's not fair." "Why not? you're looking at mine." Paul shifted. Jarrod said it was enough to frighten any little old lady. Then they started talking about their old schools. "You went to four schools in three years? Paul, that's the pits. I only went to one and I still couldn't stand it." "How come you're doing Life Maths?" "I made a deal with my parents. They've let me finish ordinary school as long as I do the maths. They reckon it's important." "You're old enough to stop school anyway. Why did you have to make a deal?" "It's a good deal. I don't have to get a job till next year and I get $50 a week to live on as long as I do the maths. If I pass they're even paying for my trip overseas." "Overseas? Where to?" "Everywhere. England first because I've got relatives I can stay with. I don't think it's going to happen though, at least not till next year." "Why not?" "You know my maths Paul. I really am hopeless and the way I'm going I'll be repeating next semester." "Your parents might still send you if they know you've been trying hard." "No they won't. It was a deal and they'll stick to it. My dad says deals don't mean anything unless you stick to them. I do too." "You'll have to pass then." "I can't. I take the work home but that's a waste of time when I don't understand it." "How about I show you? We can work together and make sure you do pass." Jarrod was staring. "Are you serious Paul?" "Sure. Life Maths is easy for me. We can do some extra work in the library when class finishes and we could meet some other time too if that's not enough." God! The reaction, a dive, a hug, and a kiss, totally startled Paul. "You kissed me!" "I couldn't help it. It just happened. I'm impulsive." "You sure are." They talked over the helping project and arranged to meet the very next morning and start catching up on some of the earlier topics. Then Jarrod wanted to go for another swim. "Not yet. I can't stand up yet." "You do last ages. Is it still very hard? It looks like it." "See, that means I can't stand up." "The water'll cool you down. Come on. I'll stand in front of you and no one will see." They stayed in, diving, chasing and wrestling, till they felt cold and once again sprawled on the grass. The sun felt so nice. "You're mad Jarrod. You make me laugh." "Same here." "What?" It's the same for me. You make me laugh too." "Sounds like we're a couple of clowns." "D'you want to come back here tomorrow after we finish in the library?" Paul's plan to use the computer in sis's room was wiped without a thought. He liked this hacking round with Jarrod. "Great." Jarrod looked pleased, which made Paul feel good. "Hey, don't bring any bathers." "How come?" "We'll go to another Op-shop." "Jarrod... You are crazy." "It was fun. Remember the look on her face?" Jarrod wanted to know about the halfway house and what that was like and before Paul knew it he was talking about his parents and the accident. That was amazing because he never talked about them, not even with sis. Especially sis, it was a taboo topic with her. The topic swung back to Jarrod. His parents sounded really good. Then he started talking about his girlfriend. "Your girlfriend? I didn't think you had one." "Sort of a girlfriend. She mostly goes with me `cause I'm good-looking and she can show me off to her friends. We never go out and have fun like today." "Do you like her?" "She's okay, but I don't really mean that much to her." "Why do you stay with her then?" "Too much hassle to end it, and if I get my overseas trip it won't matter." He gave his big grin. "She likes my dick. She's pretty good at that stuff." Paul grinned back, acting like he was a man of the world. "If she good-looking?" "Nothing special. But she knows all about clothes and how to make herself up. God, she'd die if she knew I was wearing bathers from an Op shop." "And you're doing the same again tomorrow?" "We both are and I bet we have fun again." "Have you known her very long?" "About six months." Jarrod explained how they met at a party and ended up in bed. "The same night you met her?" "Well, I'd had a few drinks and she really went for me." He wanted to get rid of her. It was fairly obvious to Paul. "How did you get so strong Paul?" "I'm not that strong. I get to train at the gym for free and I do lots of running." "Well you're a lot stronger than me." "I know. You're a pushover." "Oh yeah, who's the pushover in the pool?" "You. When I catch you." "Come on, we've got time for another swim." The swim didn't last so long this time but it was fast and furious after the pushover challenge, Jarrod using his swimming skills to evade capture, and Paul making the most of his superior strength when the evasion didn't work, till they relaxed again on the grass. They parted with plans for a maths session the next morning at 9:30 and Paul headed for the gym. After his evening run he went through his routine, a snack, washing his gear, a shower, this time with the door properly locked, then into bed by eleven o'clock. He was looking forward to tomorrow, even the maths part of it and a smile played across his features as he recalled the day's events. God, what a shock when Jarrod grabbed him in the change room at the Op shop. The end of chapter three. Author's Note. Any comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated. Please note my main email address - iarwain@aanet.com.au I also have a backup address iarwain7@ains.net.au Should you be interested, my other stories can be found by looking under 'Iarwain' in the authors section on Nifty. Contact me if you'd like to read the stories in their original Word format. Iarwain.