Date: Sat, 6 Jan 2024 10:35:55 -0600
From: William Marshal <williammarshal5301@gmail.com>
Subject: Exposed Chapter 22

Exposed 22

The Monday evening swim practice was relatively light since the next day
would be time trials. It was more of a check in and get some laps to clear
the holiday hangover. It was also an opportunity to distribute the
`uniforms' that had come in over the holidays.

Coach Knopf said, "I want everyone in their competition suits tomorrow. I
want to be sure everything fits. If there is a problem, we have time to
reorder. I hope none of you put on too much weight during the holidays."

When James got his gear, he checked to make sure it was all there. The
first thing was a team jacket and pants. The jackets had the swimmer's
names embroidered on them, and when James looked at his it said `Spangler.'

Knopf said, "I wasn't sure what name you wanted. I can change it to
something else if you want."

"No," James said, "Spangler is my `school' name, and I would just as soon
keep it that way."

The next thing James got was his swim cap with a Trojan logo on the side.
He had always thought the Mill Brook mascot looked suspiciously like the
Trojan condom logo, but now seeing it printed on a latex swim cap he
couldn't help smiling. Finally, he was handed his speedo. James was happy
the team chose a pattern rather than a solid color suit. The suit was a
combination of waving black, blue, and white stripes.

James stuffed all of his gear into a team bag to take back to the room and
try on. Brock and Kip, who were managers for the swim team, had to stay and
help Coach clean up and set up the electronic timing system. So, when Brock
finally got back to the room, he found James standing in front of the
full-length mirror wearing his team Speedo and holding an electric clipper.

"What's up?" Brock asked.

"I need to trim up my pubes. The last time I swam competitively, I was like
12 or 13 and I didn't really need to trim the bush. Now, well you can see."

Brock did see pubic hairs were sticking out of the Speedo.

"How about you let me do that. We wouldn't want any nicks, or anything."

Brock had James stand on a towel and remove his Speedo. He then attached a
number three clipper guard and began carefully trimming James' crotch and
pubes. There was something so sexy about having his boyfriend trimming his
pubes that James' cock began to grow. It wasn't long before he was fully
erect.

After finishing trimming James' pubic region, Brock asked, "Do you want me
to trim your pits?"

James nodded and locked his fingers behind his head and exposing his pits,
the sight of which caused Brock's cock to stir. Again, Brock trimmed them
with the guard on the clipper so not to trim the hairs too close to the
skin. Brock stepped back to check his work. At first, he thought seeing him
with less hair would make James seem younger, but what it really did was
make his cock look even bigger. Without hair obscuring the base of his
cock, the full length and girth of James cock could be seen.

"Fuck," Brock said, "You are so huge, and I can't believe I want that in my
ass right now."

Brock slipped off the sweats he was wearing and lay down on his back,
spread his legs, and he pulled them back to reveal his hungry hole, the
sight of which caused James' cock to emit a drop of precum.

James dropped to his knees and buried his tongue in Brock's begging
hole. Brock moaned as James rimmed and kissed him.

"Fuuuucccck" Brock moaned, "I can't take this anymore. I need you inside
me."

So, James stood and pressed his cock head against Brock's tight
pucker. Brock concentrated on relaxing his hole and a few moments later his
sphincter relaxed and James slid in, as Brock moaned,
"Yes...Yeeeesss....Oooh Yeeeeees."

Soon James was smashing Brock. It felt so good, and all too soon, Brock was
ready to cum. The first blast landed between Brook's pecs and looked like a
white river flowing between two large hills. James kept up his assault on
Brock, and Brock was in absolute bliss.

James wasn't far behind Brock and released deep inside Brock before
collapsing onto his chest. Both boys were breathing deeply. Brock wrapped
his arms around James and held him close.

James looked down into Brock's eyes and said, "Babe, I love you so much it
almost hurts when I'm not in your arms."

Now it was Brock's turn to kiss James, then he said, "James Spangler
Pierce, you are my friend, my boyfriend, and my lover. I can't live without
you. You are my reason for every beat of my heart or breath that I take."

The two looked at each other, then broke into laughter. Although their love
was real, whenever they tried to put it into words, it just seemed to come
off as sappy. They both knew that their true language of love was physical,
sweaty, and primal. Someday they might be romantic, but until then, hot and
sexy would have to do.

After a quick rinse in the shower, the boys fell into bed. They were
exhausted, and tomorrow would be a grueling day of classes.

Tuesday morning started as usual, James waking early, getting ready, and
then cajoling Brock to get out of bed so they could get to breakfast. "Okay
fine, I'm not missing breakfast because my sleepy head boyfriend can't get
up."

"Okay, okay, I'll get up," Brock said, and he rubbed the sleep out of his
eyes.

"You have ten minutes to get dressed, then I'm headed to the dining hall."

"What's the rush?"

"9 minutes, 45 seconds."

Brock got out of bed, grabbed his towel, and started to the shower when
James slapped his right butt cheek."

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For having such a hot and irresistible ass, and to remind you to get it
moving?"

Brock smiled and took a quick shower and finished getting dressed just as
James said, "30 seconds."

Brock then kissed James.

"What are you doing?" James asked.

"Making good use of my last 30 seconds."

"Good man," James said and then gave Brock a kiss in return.

The dining hall wasn't particularly busy, and after getting their food they
sat down with Weston.

"Hey guys," Weston said, "I had a great time this weekend and so did my
father. He told me to be sure to thank you for everything."

"Hey, I'm the one who should be thanking all of you guys. When I found out
I had to host that event I was totally dreading it. But you guys turned it
into something I actually enjoyed."

"Well, if you ever need anyone to go to a ball game, eat great food, and
meet Eli Manning again, count me in," Weston said.

"Yeah," Kip said as he and Lance sat down, "You can count us in as well."

After chatting about the weekend for a few minutes, Lance said, "I got a
call from my father last night that they are ready to put in the walkways
to Troy and he's wondering if this was a student project."

"Yeah," James said, "I think this would be a great student project. The
weather on Saturday is supposed to be great. Can your father get the rock
delivered this week?"

The plan was to put in a crushed rock pathway from the campus to Troy.

"I'll call him at noon and find out," Lance said.

"So how are we going to get students to give up a Saturday morning to
wheelbarrow, spread, and tamp down rock," Brock asked.

"That's easy," Weston said. "All you have to do is make it a class
competition. Give each class a section of the walkway to complete and then
give away some stupid trophy to the class that wins."

Kip jumped in, "Of course!  Which of the classes wouldn't want the bragging
rights for moving the most rock the fastest. I guarantee you the seniors
would bust their asses not to come in second to any of the underclasses."

"And you can bet the juniors will do the same trying to knock the seniors
off their pedestal," Lance said.

"Great idea," James said, "I'll talk with Dean Meyers this afternoon about
getting permission for a workday, but now I need to head to class."

For some reason, which he could not remember, James signed up for
photography at eight o'clock in the morning. Well, actually James could
remember why, he needed a `performance fine arts' class to graduate. He had
taken Art, Music, and Theatre Appreciation as a freshman, but he had put
off taking the performance part of the Fine Arts credit. He wasn't sure
why, except that flying under the radar meant avoiding a public display of
his artistic expression. However, there was no avoiding it any longer.

The final project was for the students to put together a digital photo
story telling people who they were/are/and were becoming. James had easily
cruised through the technical skills, and nature, sports, portrait, and
architectural photo projects. However, for this one he was stuck, and he
had only a week to complete and submit it. While most students were taking
photos of their interests, hobbies, pets, etc. James knew those projects
were getting only an A- or a B. James wanted to go for the A.

James decided that his work would be a combination of photographs and
digital artwork based on Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian Man. James used the
iconic naked man in two superimposed positions inside a circle and a square
that supposedly demonstrated human proportions as the background for his
pictures. However, in each photo, James replaced the man standing with his
arms stretch horizontally with an image of himself.

In the first photo, James was wearing Brock's Mill Brook school uniform
creating an image of a small boy being swallowed in the uniform.

In the second photo, he was wearing black pants, a black hoodie, and a
black mask. The only color in the photo were his hands and eyes.

In the third photo James was wearing khaki pants and a Science Club
T-shirt.

In the fourth photo, he was wearing black pants and a black T-shirt with a
Pride flag printed on it.

In the fifth photo, James was wearing his own Mill Brook school uniform.

In the sixth photo, he was wearing his black Speedo, swim cap, and swim
goggles.

In the seventh photo, he was wearing a Columbia sweatshirt.

In the eight, it was a business suit and tie.

However, James wondering whether that was where he would end up leaving the
show or go more edgy. With everything pointing to a life in business. He
was sure his project/interpretation would get an A+ in its current form,
but James wasn't really satisfied with it. It didn't really capture who he
was or more accurately, who he wanted to be.

Finally, he said, "What the fuck," added the ninth photo and sent the slide
show to Mr. Wilcox, the photography teacher.

Since most of the class had finished their photo project, and there was no
written final, there were only two other students, Mr. Wilcox, and James in
the photo lab. James heard Mr. Wilcox computer chime that he had received
an assignment. Wilcox walked over to his computer and opened the file to
critique and grade the project. Wilcox sat quietly looking at each photo
slide and writing notes before moving to the next. About ten minutes after
he started, Wilcox looked up and said, "Mr. Spangler, please remain after
class."

When the bell rang, the other students left, and Wilcox closed the door
then said, "Mr. Spangler, please join me at my desk."

When James was seated, Wilcox said, "This is exceptional work in technique
and concept. If this were a college class, I would be submitting this to a
contest. However, this is a high school class, and completely unacceptable
for the student show. Wilcox pulled up the last slide, which like the rest
was a photo of James superimposed over Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man, except in
this photo James was naked, and had the words `Certamus ergo sumus' (We
struggle, therefore we exist) painted on his chest in red.

"So, if I interpret your project correctly, you are saying all these roles
you play, all these costumes you wear, aren't really you." Wilcox said.
"And your struggle is to not lose yourself in expectations that have been
put onto you by yourself, others, and situations.

"Yes sir," James said.

"Cut the `yes sir' crap. We both know that I won't show this project to
Dean Meyers. First, because I do believe in freedom of artistic
expression. Second, because this is the best thing I have seen in
years. Third, we both know you could have a swarm of lawyers up here in a
New York minute. So, what are we going to do about this?"

James smiled, walked over to his computer, and sent Wilcox another file. In
the new slide show, everything was the same, except the last slide. In the
last slide, James was wearing black compression shorts."

Wilcox smiled, and said, "So you had the backup plan ready?"

"I knew you wouldn't... well, couldn't... use the original in the
show. However, I just needed to get your feedback. I hope that makes
sense."

"I understand, art by definition has to be shared." Edgar Degas once said
`Art is not what you see, but what you make others see'."

"Thank you for understanding," James said.

"I will include your work in the student art show, and I am sure some of
the faculty will be a bit scandalized even by this much tamer version.
However, I suspect it will be more from your message than your images. Now,
you need to get going to your next class."

"Thank you, Mr. Wilcox," James said on his way out of the door. When he was
alone, Wilcox took one last look at James' original submission, then
deleted it.

The rest of the day dragged on for James. In physics they were working on
their final force labs. In English, students were assigned to write a
parody of some Holiday story, poem or song. In A.P. calculus it was
reviewing for the final and practicing for the A.P. exam. In
government/civics the class was doing a mock Congress. All pretty standard
end of the semester stuff.

After the last class, James grabbed his swim bag and headed for the
pool. As the team changed into their swimsuits, James noticed he was not
the only swimmer whose pubes had an appointment with a trimmer. Weston had
even gone all the way to completely shaved and was prancing around the
locker room showing off.

When everyone got to the pool deck, they found that coach had each of the
boys assigned to various events and heats. James was scheduled in the
200-yard individual medley and the 500-yard freestyle. James' concern was
the individual medley. James was strong in the free and breast strokes,
fair in the back stroke, but it was his butterfly that was weak. He knew he
would have to strengthen his shoulders if he would have a chance at being
competitive in the individual medley. Unfortunately, Mill Brook was short
on medley swimmers, and Coach Knopf was counting on James to improve enough
to be competitive as the season progressed.

After everyone checked their assignments, Knopf called a team meeting,
"Boys the purpose of this time trial is to help me set the roster for the
first meet.  After that, every meet will be considered when determining the
next meet's list. So, if you don't get the position you want today, then
you still have a chance to move up by improving your times. Also, no one's
spot is guaranteed or safe."

James' first race was the 500-yard free. He easily cruised to number one
and with a time that would put him among the best in the state. However,
his medley was disappointing. While second best on the team, his time was
not close to qualifying for the state swim meet. Weston, Brock, and Knopf
all tried to boost James' spirit about his time, but James felt like he was
letting down the team with his lackluster performance.

"Look James," Brock said, "You can't be the best at everything you do."

"I know, but I want to at least be competitive."

"Well, you say it's your butterfly and you need stronger shoulders. We can
work on that." Brock said. "I'll find some weight training exercises
designed to improve butterfly performance and we'll include them in our
workouts."

James smiled, but as he moved his arm, he grabbed his shoulder. "I might
also need some massage work," he said.

"I'm sure that can be included in your training schedule," Brock said with
a wink. "As soon as I help get things put away, I'll be back to the room,
and we can take care of those shoulders...and anything else that needs to
be rubbed."

Weston heard Brock's last comment and said, "Jeez, don't you two ever give
it a rest?"

"Nope," Brock said.

When Brock got back to the room, James was sitting on his bed with his
iPad. "Hey babe, come here. I want to show you my photo project." Brock
looked at each of the pictures, but when he got to the last picture he
stopped and looked at James, then back at the photo.

"What are you seeing?" James asked.

"This last picture... you're so...."

"Exposed," James suggested.

"Yes."

"Just like you were that Saturday I found you tied to the library
fence. Only the ropes that tie me aren't visible or as easily cut as those
that bound you." James then told Brock about Wilcox's critique of his
project. "Pretty much got what I was intending; however, he didn't have the
correct last photo."

James pulled up one more photo.  in this one, James was still naked, but in
place of the second drawing of the male figure was a line printed of
Brock. "This picture is the true final interpretation.  It represents my
need for you in my struggle to hold it all together, to keep my life in
proportion, to have my back. You are my Vitruvian Man."

Brock kissed James and soon the two boys were doing what teenage boys, well
boys of all ages, most love to do.

Saturday morning was a perfect late fall day, and almost every class had
its full roster of students ready to compete in seeing who could move the
most rock in the shortest amount of time. During the week, the construction
crew had staked and welded together iron retaining borders to contain the
rock and form a winding path from the campus to Troy. Four large piles of
rock had been unloaded and equal numbers of shovels, rakes, and
wheelbarrows were distributed to each class. When the horn sounded, each
class would start moving rock and leveling it in the pathway section
assigned to them. A couple of workers from the construction company were
assigned to work with each class.  However, their only job was to run the
power plate compactors and ensure the work was satisfactory. The boys had
to do the hard work.

At 9 o'clock, Mr. Gregg blew an airhorn and the race began. The juniors and
seniors were more organized and therefore got off to a quick
start. However, the sophomores soon noted what the juniors and seniors were
doing and got themselves on track. What the freshmen lacked in organization
and muscle; they made up for in numbers. Any younger boys from the lower
grades that wanted to help with the project were put on the freshman team.

Around 9:30, a reporter from the local newspaper and a TV news crew showed
up. It was a slow news day and a story about prep school boys doing manual
labor was just what the local media needed to fill the news gap. They
talked to some of the boys and were shown the project by Mr. Gregg who was
more than willing to talk about the restoration of Troy. Fortunately,
Lance's father was onsite to explain how Pierce International got involved
in the project without mentioning James' connection to the
company. Finally, they managed to get James, Brock, Lance, and Kip together
to talk about how a conflict turned into this project, and then a
friendship. Of course, the story, particularly the events surrounding `The
Altercation,' was very sanitized for the public.

At 12:30 a cheer went up from the seniors.  They had completed their
section and passed inspection. The Juniors finished 15 minutes later, then
both junior and senior classes helped the freshmen and sophomores finish up
their sections. So it was that at 1:30, a mass of exhausted, dirty, hungry,
but very proud and happy boys descended on a large tent on the campus green
that was serving hamburgers, brats, sides, desserts, and all the soda a
teenager could want.

After eating, James, Brock, Lance, Kip, and Mr. Gregg walked back to the
path that was just completed to assess the work. "This is wonderful,"
Mr. Gregg said. "When we first started planning this project, I had no idea
it would become this grand. You guys have been amazing. I know you have
access to resources most kids your age could only dream of, but more
importantly you have creativity, leadership, and civic virtues. I know the
four of you will do great things with your lives. I am proud to know all of
you."

When they finally got back to the dorm, Brock grabbed James and gave him a
kiss, then said, "I think we should shower together."

"That's the best idea you have had all week." James stated.

So, James and Brock stripped naked and climbed into the shower. They took
their time washing and massaging each other's bodies. The rest of the day
was theirs and they intended to enjoy it. Brock pulled James' back against
his chest, and then placed his chin on James' right shoulder. "Babe," he
said, "I have been thinking about your photography project, and I'm so
proud that you trust me to have your back."

"You make me feel safe in a way no one has ever made me feel before. It's
not just physical safety, I feel emotionally safe with you. Does that make
sense to you."

"It does, because that's how you make me feel as well."

Brock massaged James' pecs and gently kissed his neck."

"Oooh, that is so gooood." James moaned.

"So babe, what do you want?"

"I want you to make love to me; then, I want to fall asleep in your arms.

"I want that too."

So, Brock spent the afternoon making tender, sensual love to James, and
James returned the love with the same expression with which it was
given. James did fall asleep in Brock's arms, and never could he remember
such a long and amazing sleep as he had that night.

Sunday morning James and Brock got up in time to make it to services. The
Mill Brook music department was always in charge of the second to the last
Sunday worship service before the end of the term, and they were doing
their religious holiday music program that Sunday. The secular program
would be Wednesday night.

On most Sundays, it was easy to find a seat in the Mill Brook chapel. On
this Sunday, the sanctuary would be full and late comers would have to sit
in the overflow seating area. They met Lance at the dining hall for donuts
and coffee before the three went to the service together. Weston was in the
choir and Kip was in the orchestra and both had eaten early so they could
join their groups to warm up.

"So, what do you have planned for Christmas," Lance asked off-handedly.

"Normal holiday stuff with the family," Brock said. "Dad's family for the
most part live in New York, se we celebrate Christmas with them. Then we go
down to Alexandria, Virginia to celebrate with Mom's family. The Ambassador
and Grandma like to go big for the holidays." After Brock's grandfather
died, his grandmother remarried, Thomas J. Roosevelt, was a descendant of
the Roosevelt political family. He had been a career diplomat, and still
was occasionally called on to serve as a special envoy for the president in
office. "I'm hoping James can come to Washington D.C. with me. The Capital
is amazing during the Holidays," Brock said.

"What about you James?" Lance asked.

"It will be very different. The first thing on my list is a quick flight to
Switzerland to see my father. We are settling some personal issues and I
need to actually talk with him face to face."

"I hope that goes well," Lance said. "I don't know the reasons, but I do
know you and your father haven't always gotten on well."

"Thanks. After that, I will go back to New York to celebrate Christmas. One
of the things I'm looking forward to is a big Christmas dinner and party
that is being planned at the Pierce Estate for the staff and their extended
families. It will be the first time in a long time the estate is in full
Holiday mode. I hope it's as grand as I remember it being as a youngster. I
also have to make an appearance at a number of company holiday functions,
plus I have at least three meetings. That's why I haven't been able to
commit to going to D.C. with James....until now."

"Really!? You're going to get to come down?" James said like a kid who'd
just gotten a new puppy.

"Yes, mom sent me a finalized schedule and I will be with you and your
parents on Christmas Day and then go to D.C. with you. We are expected to
be with mom and Aunt Sydney for Christmas Eve."

Brock kissed James, and then they heard Dean Meyers clear his throat and
say, "Mr. Spangler, Mr Champlain," causing James and Brock to slightly
blush.

"So, what will you be doing?" Brock asked Lance.

Lance laughed and said, "I'd put Boston up against both New York and
D.C. when it comes to doing Christmas right. Mom always gets tickets for
Holiday Pops, the Boston Pops Christmas Concert. Of course, the Commons is
amazing at Christmas, and my sister and I go ice skating. On Christmas Eve
it's a tradition for us to go to the evening service at the Old North
Church. It's also a tradition to spend the New Year's on the ski slopes in
Vermont."

"Wow, that's so cool." Brock said.

"Yes, it does," added James, "but we'd better get going or we won't get
seats."

"Hey don't worry," Lance said. "I have three underclass boys reserving our
seats."

"How did you get them to do that?" Brock asked.

"Let's just say, I saved them from having to explain to Dean Meyers and
their mothers why they were drunk, naked, and locked out of their dorm two
nights ago."

Brock laughed, and asked, "So, what are you going to do with that dorm
master key when you graduate?"

"I have a cute little sophomore in mind."

"Hey, be careful there buddy," James said.

"Don't worry. He found me and he's way more experienced than I am at this
gay thing. If anyone needs to be careful, it's me," Lance said with a
slight blush.

"So, have your guys...?"

"Not yet, I told him I wanted to wait until after the holidays. You know,
make sure I'm really ready. I mean I want to, but well...I know there's a
difference between my fantasy and what the reality will be like. So, I
guess I just wanted to enjoy the holidays without anything good or bad
distracting me...Is that weird?"

"Absolutely not," Brock said. "You have to do what is right for you."

"I know," Lance said, "but it's hard not looking at the two of you and
thinking I'm not doing it right. You guys are so perfect."

Now James and Brock broke into laughter, and James said, "If you only knew
how fucked up our relationship started out, you would not think we're any
kind of model couple."

"Yeah, we didn't do anything right, we just got lucky," Brock said. "Oh,
and buddy, you were a large part of our story."

"I'm so sorry about that," Lance said.

"Yeah, at the time it was shit," James said, "but the truth is I look back
on that whole thing and realize that not only did it move Brock and me
closer together, I also got you as a friend in the bargain."

"I feel the same about that; but damn it, did you have to kick my ass so
hard," Lance said and again the three had to laugh.

When James, Brock, and Lance arrived at the Mill Brook chapel Lance said,
"Follow me." And he led them to a pew a third of the way from the front
where three boys were intentionally sitting to take up more space than they
needed. When Lance walked up, the boy on the end smiled and the three moved
over to let Lance, James, and Brock have a seat."

James noticed a look pass between Lance and the kid he was sitting beside,
Diego Navarro. Diego was on the soccer and swim teams and his parents
worked for the Spanish Consulate in Boston. Diego had flirted with James a
couple of times in the library between when James announced he was gay to
the entire school and when Brock came out to the team. Diego was a twunk
and looked like he could be in the cast of `Elite.'

James leaned over and whispered in Lances ear, "You and Diego?"

Lance blushed a bit and said, "Yeah, there's a reason he knew I had a key."

James then looked at Diego and smiled, and Diego returned the smile with a
wink.

The music department at Mill Brook was top notch, and the program was
amazing. Weston had a solo part in one of the carols and he filled the
building with his strong baritone voice. Then when the orchestra played,
James was mesmerized with how different Kip's appearance and demeanor
were. Most of the time, Kip was the prototypical jock; however, dressed in
his concert clothes and playing the cello, Kip had a deeply serious
intensity. James wasn't particularly religious, but the music did connect
with his soul.

After the service, James, Brock, and Lance met up with Weston and Kip to
walk to the dining hall for a holiday brunch. Since it was a brunch and a
number of parents had come to see the service, the normal rules of Sunday
seating were not in effect. So, the guys could all sit together. James said
to Lance, "Diego and his friends would be welcome to join us." Lance smiled
and walked over to invite them, and they happily agreed. It was definitely
big for underclassmen to be invited to sit at a senior table.

After everyone was seated, the senior faculty members, who served as hosts,
would indicate tables to go through the brunch buffet line. While that was
going on James took the opportunity to chat with Diego, who was sitting
between him and Lance.

"So, are you ready for the meet on Thursday," James asked.

"I guess. I thought this year we were going to suck as badly as last year,
but then you, Weston, and Malik joined the team. I think we may actually
have a shot at being respectable."

"Well, you will certainly do well in your 100 and 200 freestyle events,"
James said. "You seem to be built for swimming."

"Thanks, you're very good yourself. You obviously aren't a newbie, because
not only do you have perfect strokes, your flip turns are among the best on
the team. Where did you learn that?"

James explained that his father was a college swimmer and had taught
him. He also mentioned that he and Weston would be training at the estate
over Christmas if he wanted to join them."

"That would be great," Diego said, "I hate that we lose so much of our edge
over the holidays. I would be fantastic to hit the first meet after the
holidays still in top racing form."

"When Weston and I figure out our holiday training schedule, I'll send you
a copy."

"Thanks."

"Also, you might mention to Lance that it's only three and a half hours on
the Acela if he wants to come over and hangout with Brock while we
train. He is welcome to stay with me, and you can come over to watch
movies, play games, whatever."

"Really?!" Diego said with big eyes.

"Sure."

Diego then turned to Lance and told him about James' offer. Lance smiled
and nodded."

After lunch James headed over to the library. He was scheduled from three
to five when the library closed. While he was manning the circulation desk,
Mr. Gregg walked in and said, "Hello Mr. Spangler."

"Hello," James replied. "What are you doing here? You usually don't come in
on Sunday."

"That's true, but I wanted to talk to you and I figured this place would be
as quiet as a cemetery today, and I see I was right."

"That's for sure. There are maybe four students anywhere in the library at
this moment. So, what do you want to talk about."

"I got an odd phone call from someone in the Lt. Governor's office asking
if I would be willing to serve on some kind of arts and culture board or
committee. Do you know anything about that?"

"I sort of nominated you. Last weekend, The Lt. Governor said she was
trying to get my mother or my aunt onto some new public-private Partnership
for Culture and the Arts she's in charge of forming, but they're too
busy. So, she ask me if I had a suggestion, and I suggested you."

"Why?"

"Because you know more about art and culture than anyone I know."

"That's very flattering, but I really don't have the credentials, the
gravitas, to be on such a committee."

"You will if you accept my offer. My father has basically turned over the
Pierce Estate to me. Also, unknown to me, he made a deal to buy the estate
that adjoins the Pierce Estate. The lady that owns that property is moving
to a retirement home and doesn't have any children so, she offered to sell
it with all the contents. On the advice of the Pierce Estate manager, I
accepted her sale offer. The upshot is I have two very old and very
valuable estates with contents that are neither inventoried nor valued. I
would like you to oversee that project."

"I don't know... I have a pretty sweet position here at Mill Brook. I'd
hate to give it up without..."

"The position pays $200,000, plus health insurance, season tickets to the
New York Symphony, membership at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, and
tickets to any Broadway show you want to see. Also, you will be provided a
residence on the estate and a staff to help do the work."

Gregg smiled and said, "When do I start?"

"As soon as the school year ends. I'm not letting you out of here until I
can go with you," James said with a smile, then gave Gregg a hug.

That evening James told Brock about Lance and Diego, and Mr. Gregg. "Okay,"
Brock said, "but I certainly hope you told that old man that he's fired if
he cracks my nuts again with that cane."

"Jeez Brock, when are you going to let that go. He made a mistake and he
apologized."

Oh sure, it's easy for you to say forgive and forget, but your balls don't
ache and try to climb up inside you every time you see him."

"I suppose that's true."

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday were pretty unremarkable days. It was pretty
obvious that the faculty was winding down the regular semester and getting
everyone ready for finals the next week. Tuesday the guys all went to the
home opening basketball game. The game was closer than it should have been
and the Trojans didn't put the game away until the last 5 minutes of the
4th quarter. Then Wednesday evening was the music department's secular
Holiday program. The music was great, and many of the numbers were well
choreographed. Weston was a hit as a spoof of the Sugar Plum Fairy. Of
course, James couldn't help but wonder how they hid Weston's huge cock in a
pair of tights. Later Weston told him that male ballet dances wear a
special undergarment call a dance belt to hide it. "I tried doing the dance
without it, and let's just say, I might have given my mother a stroke."

James and Brock had to laugh at the idea.

Thursday morning, James woke up on edge. Brock recognized the pregame
jitters and had to hide a smile. "Hey babe," he said, "do you mind if I
give you some tips about dealing with the nervous energy."

"No, I could use some advice from a real athlete."

"Wow, let's start with you saying, `James Spangler is a real athlete'... Go
on say it."

"Okay, James Spangler is a real athlete."

"One more time, `James Spangler is a really hot athletic stud'."

James broke into laughter.

"That's my man," Brock said. "Okay, the first thing is to put things into
perspective. What's the worst thing that could happen."

"Well, I could drown."

"Really?" Brock said, crossing his arms.

"Okay, I guess the worst thing would be to false start and DQ."

"So, if you disqualify you just work on your starts for the next meet. You
only have to get one qualifying time during the season to go to State. That
pretty much makes you a cinch to go."

"Second, accept that your nervousness is not only normal, but necessary. If
you weren't a bit on edge, you wouldn't have the adrenaline you need to
perform at your highest level. It would be like you were in the Serengeti
and a lion jumped out, and you didn't get that rush of energy to either
fight or run, you'd be lunch in a heartbeat."

"Third, focus on your prep. You know you've trained hard and smart. So,
that should give you confidence."

"Fourth, visualize success, not failure."

Fifth, listen to tunes. I'll share my pregame playlist with you. It has
worked for me, and I think you will like it."

"Okay, those are the five things a coach told me to do to deal with the
jitters, and they work. However, I'm going to add one more: win, lose, or
draw, tonight you get a mind-warping blow job."

As it turned out, Brock really did know how to deal with performance
jitters. Of course, James wasn't surprised, he'd watched Brock make clutch
plays in soccer and lacrosse for at least three years. On the field, Brock
had ice water in his veins. James also liked Brock's playlist. It was a mix
of sports and military movie scores with top forty hits. It was like
listening to an all-day pep talk.

When the announcement came to dismiss the swim team for the meet, James
almost ran out of A.P. Literature he was so ready to go. "Damn," Brock
said, "where did that nervous kid from this morning go?"

"He's locked in a closet somewhere," James said. "Some jock whisperer gave
me the secret formula for focused intensity."

Brock smiled.

When they arrived at the location of the meet James went to the locker room
assigned to Mill Brook, changed into his Speedo and wrapped a towel around
his waist, then headed to the pool. When the meet manager announced the
pool was open for warmups, James took a deep breath and removed the
towel. "So far, so good," he said to himself and jumped into the pool and
did his warmup laps. When he got out of the pool, he did notice a few guys
from the other teams looking at him, and one or two even pointed.

James and Diego were leaning on the wall and talking, when a swimmer from
Stevens Prep walked up and introduced himself, "Hi, I'm Frazier Laporte,
you're James Pierce, correct?"

"Well, at school I'm James Spangler. So how do you know who I am?"

"My family lives in the same building as your mother, although several
floors lower," Frazier said with a smile. "My mother and your mother have
become friends."

"That's cool. Maybe we can hang some during Christmas break," James said.

"I'd like that."

James was distracted by something over Frazier's shoulder, and Frazier
looked over to see what it was, then said, "Ignore them. That's my younger
brother Theo and his best friend Nick. They're just jealous."

"Of what?" James asked.

"Of you. In case you haven't noticed, you're one of the hottest guys at
this meet."

"That's what I keep telling him," Brock said as he joined the group.

James said, "Frazier, meet Brock Champlain, my boyfriend. Brock, meet
Frazier Laporte. He lives in the same building back in New York."

"Nice to meet you Frazier," Brock said.

"Nice meeting you as well," Frazier said. "I think I saw you guys around
the building at Thanksgiving. Well, I'd better get back to my team. Nice
meeting you."

When Frazier was gone, Brock said, "I'm going to have to watch out for that
guy."

"Don't be silly; he's straight as an arrow. If you need to look out for
anyone, it's his brother."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, F.Y.I. I saw them checking out you and Kip earlier as well. From
what I've observed, those two are each one big hormone, emphasis on the
`whore' part."

Brock laughed, then said, "Get back into your lane, boy."

"Hey, nice swim pun. How long have you been waiting to use it?"

"About three days."

"That's about how many days' supply of cum is filling my..."

"Attention swimmers, will the swimmers for the first heat of the two
hundred medley relay report to the starting blocks," the meet announcer
said.

"I guess that's the end of the nasty talk," Brock said. "Now get your head
focused on your races."

"Yes sir," James said with a salute.

After the 200-yard medley relay, was the 200-yard freestyle. This was
Weston's first race, and his premier event. Weston was in the second heat,
and when he stepped up on the starting block, there was an audible change
in the crowd's chatter. Weston wasn't the typical high school
swimmer. First, while there were more African Americans in the sport than
in the past, they still were underrepresented in the sport. However, it
wasn't just his race, it was his body that made him stand out. Weston
definitely did not have a swimmer's build. He was a D1 football player
standing among high school swimmers. However, once Weston hit the water, he
was like an Orca closing in on its prey. Weston finished his heat a third
of a length of the pool ahead of his nearest competition and easily won the
200 free.

Next was Jame's first race, the 200 Individual medley. The first stroke of
the IM was James' worst, the butterfly. So, he was badly trailing the
leaders when he transitioned to the backstroke, again not his strongest
stroke, but at least he didn't fall farther behind. On the transition to
the breaststroke James began to gain on the leaders. Then in the final
stroke James passed two swimmers to place third out of eight
swimmers. James knew he would have to work on his butterfly over the
Christmas break, but he felt good that he wasn't last.

There were four races between the 200 IM and the 500 free, so recovery
wasn't really an issue for James. He drank some Gatorade and ate a power
bar while he watched the races and the crowd. James had gotten so used to
having Michael, his security, around that he rarely paid attention to
him. However, while resting, James noticed he was talking to a man with a
camera and wondered what was going on. James was pulled back to the meet
when the announcer called for the 500-freestyle racers to move to the
starting blocks.

When told to, James stepped up on his block, took a deep breath, shook out
his arms and legs, then took his position. When the starting gun fired,
James sprang into action. It was a clean start and James was easily in the
lead when he transitioned from the dolphin kick to the freestyle
strokes. The 500 free is 10 laps or 20 lengths of the pool, and James was
cruising, lapping several of the slower swimmers. For the first six laps,
James continued to build his lead, then on laps seven and eight he kind of
coasted. Coach Knopf knew this would be an easy meet for the 500, and he
didn't want to show everything Jame had. However, when James made the turn
for the final lap, Knopf signaled for him to give it his best so they could
gage James' power finish. So, while many of the other swimmers were
struggling, James seemed to get a new burst of energy.

James finished nearly three-quarters of a length ahead of the second-place
swimmer, and easily qualified for the state swim meet in his first race of
the season. Knopf couldn't believe how lucky he'd gotten to have James come
out for his senior year. Of course, no one was more excited for James' win
than Brock.

Mill Brook ended up taking second out of 7 teams at the meet behind Stevens
Prep. James went over and congratulated Frazier and said they'd catch up
over the holidays. On the way back to Mill Brook they stopped at a
McDonalds to get some food, and Knopf walked around congratulating the boys
who did well and building up those who didn't, which was something that
impressed James a lot.

When they got back to campus, Brock said, "Kip and I need to do a load of
towels tonight. I'll be back to the dorm once we get them in the dryers."

When Brock got back to the dorm, James wasn't in the room. He found him
down in Weston's and Malik's room. Malik had finished fifth in diving and
was happy because that was his first competitive diving competition. Brock
sat and talked for a while, but James knew he wanted to get back to the
room, so he said, "I've go some homework I need to finish," an excuse
everyone knew was a lie.

The minute the door to their room was closed Brock pounced on James like a
panther on his prey. Soon James was naked, and Brock was on his knees
swallowing James' cock. Brock was a wild man. In the time they'd been
together, Brock had become a master cocksucker.

"Oooooh, that's sooooo gooood." James moaned as Brock played with his
hairless balls and ass. "Fuuuuck, I'm gonna cum," which only made Brock
impale his throat deeper on James' monster cock."

Suddenly, James groaned and his cock began blasting like a firehose in
Brock's mouth and throat. It was more than Brock could take and he had to
pull off, and James covered his face with warm streams of jizz.

When Brock was able to speak again, he said, "Fuck that was a huge load."

"Sorry babe," James managed to say.

"Don't apologize. I wanted every drop of it, but it was too much. You're
just too much man for me."

James dropped to his knees, kissed Brock, and said, "Don't say that. We're
just the men each other needs. Nothing too much or too little." Then James
kissed Brock and tasted his own cum on Brocks lips and tongue. At last,
James stopped kissing Brock and said, "Babe, you know you're not finished."

"I'm not?"

"No, you're not finished until you fill my ass with your seed." Then James
lay face down on his bed and pulled his cheeks apart to display his hot,
pink hole.

"Oh yeah," Brock said, and dove tongue first into James' bussy.

***************************************************************************

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