Date: Sat, 29 Oct 2022 03:29:55 +0000 (UTC)
From: Chaos Wolf <chaoswolf04@yahoo.com>
Subject: Korean Werejock Connor (gay/high school, gay/interracial, gay/athletics)

Disclaimer: The following is a story of a homosexual nature and is sexually
explicit. Please do not read if you are a minor or if it is illegal where
you live to do so. Remember to think smart to play smart. Use
protection. Today's story features an American teen of Korean descent who
just doesn't understand the jock lifestyle. He soon develops feelings for
one and it is this relationship that will lead him down the road to a new
sense of self. If this sounds like something you wish to read, be my guest
and read. If it is not, go back and look for another story to read.

Help the Nifty Archive continue to provide a home for erotic
fiction. Consider donating by going to
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Thank you.

=====

Korean Werejock Connor

If I ever live a thousand years, I will never understand jocks. Just look
at them. Everywhere they go at Washburn High, they strut around in their
letterman jackets like they are nobility. Football, baseball, the sport
does not matter. It seems that once a guy gets muscles and he's put in a
letterman jacket, he becomes a different being. All they talk about is what
they play, working out, and looking as studly as possible. Almost all of
them act boisterous or pompous or both. Also, you should hear some of the
talk I have overheard in the bathroom. If they aren't chattering about
athletics, many are blabbering about hooking up. I am not of their kind,
nor do I wish to be.

"Hey Kimchi Boy!" I roll my eyes. My name isn't Kim. It's Connor Jin-woo
Park. Why must they assume that just because I'm Korean, I enjoy kimchi?
Okay, so it's one of my favs. Let me be clear, one of my favs. My top
favorite food however are nachos. I continue walking down the hall towards
my locker. A voice calls to them, "Wait up for me bros. I gotta talk with
Connor." My head twitches in startled surprise.

I turn and there he is, one of the luminaries of our school's wrestling
team. He is Jonathan Bonner. Why does he want to talk with me? "I need some
tutoring and I was wondering if we could be study buddies. Interested?" I
didn't know what to say. I looked into his absorbing brown eyes and
replied, "Uh sure." We exchange numbers and he turns around to catch up his
"bros".

Throughout the days that followed, I was trying to think of real reason why
he wanted to study with me. Do I go to his place, or does he come over to
mine? He didn't say. What subject did he need help with? He didn't
say. Should I have snacks? He didn't say. What if he catches me looking at
him like he's piece of candy? He didn't seem to be the type who would out
me or lash out, but do I want to take that chance?

We exchanged text messages to set up a mutually convenient time. I had to
work around his immense workout schedule and his practice
sessions. Interspersed throughout his tests were his worries. Why was he
sharing them with me? Why was he addressing me as bro? I wasn't one of his
buddies on the team and yet he was contacting me like I was. I kept my
thoughts to myself. I didn't want to alienate him.

He said that they were down one guy and Coach Bradshaw was having a hell of
a time trying to find a replacement. He only had about two months to find
someone. What would he do if he couldn't find someone. I tried Jonathan to
keep positive. He appeared to appreciate my words and replied, "Coach will
find a way to make things work. He always does. I just need to concentrate
on our study sessions. Am I right?" I replied, "Sure thing."

Time? Saturday night. Place? Jonathan's place. He smiled at me when he
opened the door. He was wearing shorts and a tank that hugged his
chest. Was this appropriate clothing to study in? Come on Connor. Get your
mind off his buff bod and chockfull of teen meat crotch. We head down the
hallway to his room, "I've moved my desk from its spot next to my bed to
the middle of the room by the window so we could sit across from each
other. Pay no attention to the mismatched chair. I got it from the garage
and cleaned it. Let's pound those books."

I took a moment to look around the room while he set up the study
area. Anyone visiting could clearly see that this was a jock's room. There
were plenty of sports posters and there was a shelf full of medals and
awards from his time with the wrestling team. The only thing that was
missing, I thought, was a poster of a hot babe. Shouldn't he have one? His
buddies had often commented about hooking up with our female
classmates. Had he? I couldn't remember and I didn't want to pry.

For the next three hours, we studied hard. Jonathan seemed like he needed
my help.  He would ask me things about what we were studying, and he seemed
genuinely puzzled. I was glad to help. We did take a break to have a snack
which consisted of peanut butter with banana wraps. Accompanying it was
glasses of protein shake. It was out of habit that his mother made
these. Someone of my body type and demeanor was unfamiliar here. Unfamiliar
food combination for me, but I was glad for the refreshments. If I had a
snack in the evening, it was usually cookies when we had them or peanut
butter and jelly sandwiches. It was soon time to head on home. He thanked
me and wished me a safe journey home.

The next couple weeks continued like this. Every Saturday, we would meet at
7pm, study for a few hours, have a snack somewhere in there, and then head
home. The following Saturday, he came back to my house. The week after, I
was back at Jonathan's house. Something kept bugging me and I was too
afraid to admit it. I was starting to have the hots for Jonathan and these
repeated visits were taking their toll on me. Sooner or later, he would
find out how I felt about him, or I would open my mouth and would let
something slip. That never happened because he beat me to it.

Late September, it was another Saturday study night. We were wrapping up
the session and I headed towards the door when he closed it and placed a
hand on my shoulder, "Wait. Please wait. Don't go. Not yet." He turned my
body around and looked through my eyes into my soul. "Can we talk? No books
or sports. Just talk."  He sat on the bed, "I've never told my bros this or
even my parents. I've tried to deny what I am, but I just don't want to
stay silent anymore. I gotta tell someone. Even if it's you." He motioned
for me to sit on his bed. He sat next to me and looked at me, "I'm into
dudes bro. Just dudes. There I said it. Now you can laugh at me." His head
looked down at his feet. His body quivered with nervousness. Was this
happening? Was this seriously happening for real? I tied to look at him,
but he kept looking away. Was this the same Jonathan Bonner I knew of in
school? The one I knew was always upbeat and confident. This Jonathan was
ashamed and insecure.

I looked at Jonathan. I didn't know how to react, and I didn't know what to
do, so I did the only think that I thought might work. I felt his studly
arms and caressed them with the back of my fingers while uttering a
soothing, "Shh. It's okay." The sensual touch was starting to bridge a gap
between us but that didn't seem enough. His head rose and he looked into my
eyes as I told him what I had also buried, "I'm only into dudes also bro."
Admitting to this truth in the words he would use finally broke through. I
caressed his muscles and he purred, "Geez, dude. You can't imagine how many
times I've dreamed of doing this with another guy." Encouraged, I planted
my lips on his. He did not resist. He reclined on his bed and held my body
as firm as his could without it being too tight. He kissed me hungrily as
if he had been deprived of air for ages. I felt a throb against my groin,
and I replied with a throb of my own.

We soon heard footsteps down the hall, and he let go. He opened his door,
and he escorted me to the front door. He smiled, "Thanks a bunch bro. See
you around." He looked around and puckered his lips. This was followed by a
wink. I didn't know how to respond so I answered, "See you around." I
licked my lips before I slowly got into my car, never taking my eyes off
him until he closed the door.

Somehow, I made it home. Every time I stopped at a light, I kept replaying
the scene with me and Jonathan again and again. That was no dream, but it
seemed so unreal. I arrived and entered. My parents asked me how the study
session went. I squeaked, "It went fine. I'm heading up to bed." They both
said, "Good night."

After washing up, I lay in my bed and was unable to sleep. The memory of
being held by Jonathan sent tingles throughout my body. The warmth of his
body and fondness was as bright as his red hair. The joys I felt were as
numerous as the freckles on his handsome face. I struggled with the
feelings he gave me. If I ever hooked up with a guy, I would want him to be
like me. Besides these study sessions, Jonathan and I had nothing in common
besides being attracted to other guys. We were dissimilar in physiques and
in personality and in interests and in our social ranking. While I could
not deny he was a red-hot ginger, I was failing to deny that I had strong
feelings for him.

My hands explored my body, and I wanted them to be his hands. They made a
trek downward to a land of stringy hair, a pillar of flesh, and two orbs
full of Korean seeds. I knew I was a slim guy, and I didn't have a
musculature like Jonathan's or his comrades. The one physical trait I was
proud of, besides my eyes, was what was between my legs. I had measured
myself a few months ago out of curiosity. My hardon was a tad over seven
inches long and I had nice plump nuts that complemented it perfectly. As
much as I liked the package I had, I also felt guilty. As soon as I found
that I would be considered above average, I felt that I had stollen it from
a more worthy man.

I didn't usually jerk off because I was always afraid that my parents would
hear noises and barge in while I was on assignment. I had to chance it. I
needed to chance it. The pillar mandated worship. I wrapped my fingers
around it and moved them up and down while I fondled my balls. The shaft
thickened and grew long. It loved the attention I fawned upon it. The image
of a theoretically naked Jonathan posed in my brain. What did he look like
without his clothes? I could only guess by his clothed form. He too is
pleasuring himself., "Let's blast off together. Would you like that CJ?" I
focused on the illusory hand while my hand continued its carnal
task. Faster and faster, Jon faster and faster. My body squirmed as its
time drew near. Finally, it surrendered to the oneness that all males
experience. Globs of Korean joy juice gushed out into the air and landed on
the smooth landscape of my chest. My dick thanked me, and I snuggled in my
blanket and fell asleep.

The days passed and we continued our almost secret relationship. My
parents, in a moment of meticulous observation, had noticed the way we
looked at each other. One night, they sat us down and had a heartfelt
conversation. They didn't want to pry, but they expressed that it appeared
to them that we were more than just friends. They told us that they wanted
us to feel safe here in expressing our feelings for one another. Jonathan
broke down and wept. His father, a former Marine, believed in traditional
gender roles and behaviors. Jonathan was afraid of disappointing his dad or
worse, get kicked out of the house. Jonathan acted masculine but would his
"crime" of being attracted to men be so egregious, he would be kicked out?
My parents looked at each other and looked directly to him and told him
that they would open their door to him of that ever happened. Dad said, "We
have a spare bedroom but if you two want to share Jin-woo's bed, we're fine
with that. Just know that if you decide to take things to the next level,
you do things safely."

Only in the Park household was our relationship known. No one else was
aware that the two of us were gay and were a couple. However, he wanted to
be affectionate in public if the timing and location was right. This is the
same Jonathan who wanted to keep things a secret. He was desperate to have
an open relationship and so was I, but the fear of scorn from those he knew
was too great. I understood where he was coming from because I wasn't ready
to come out publicly yet.

One of these moments of open affection was at school. One of the worst
places to be affectionate in public, but he wanted a good luck kiss before
he headed off to the locker room for tonight's matches. He pulled me into a
side hallway near the library. He looked around and deciding it was safe,
he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me on the lips. I felt that
we were being watched. I squirmed out of his hold which cause him to
whisper, "What's wrong?" I replied, "I feel that we're being watched." He
looked around and so did, but there was no one. Nonetheless, he believed me
and said that we would later pick up from where we left off, "Maybe when I
come over next time?"

Several days passed. He cherished our times together. My home was a safe
harbor, a place where he could unwind and put his troubles on hold. He
could be his full self. There was one chief trouble, "Coach Bradshaw
scouted around but he still has not found anyone to join the team. Everyone
he's asked is either not interested or is already in a sport." I didn't
want him to give into despair, "He'll find someone in plenty of time before
the season starts." He wanted to believe me but there was only four weeks
left before the start of the season, but he was doubtful. I held his hand,
"Have hope. You must have hope."

The next Tuesday, I was getting ready to go home when Jonathan comes up
running to me, "Coach wants to see you. Only you." The directive had the
same weight as if I had been told I just won a million dollars. "Come, I'll
show you the way."

We headed through an entryway that I hadn't been through in years. It led
to the basketball court, gym, locker rooms and coach offices. We reached
the correct door. Next to it was a placard bearing the name of Paxton
Bradshaw. I knocked and he motioned for me to come in. I turned to Jonathan
who said, "I'll wait at the front entrance." He left and I entered.

Paxton Bradshaw was a Black man about twice my age. He wore a mustard
yellow polo and tan khaki pants which fit his body well. Age had done
little to diminish his good looks or his masculine form. For someone who
might be interested in casting him in certain types of fantasies, he'd be a
great choice. I asked after I closed the door, "You wanted to see me?" He
nodded and motioned for to sit down. He had been writing in the spiral
notebook and silently continued to do so for a couple minutes. I began to
wonder when he would speak when he looked up, "Mr. Park?" I replied, "Yes
sir." He wrote a few more lines and reached over to shake my hand. "Nice to
meet you. Do you know why I've called you in?" I didn't know why. Even if I
had the rest of the week to think about it, I would never have guessed
right. He studied my expression and asked, "Has Mr. Bonner told you of our
team shortage?" That I knew, "Yes. He's concerned." The man sighed, "That
is an understatement. I would say grievously concerned. I have asked all
available young men, those who would be appropriate, but all have
declined. I have run out of time and options." He let out a puff of air and
he looked lost in thought as if he was struggling to find his voice. He
then said, "I don't get involved in the relationships that my men are in,
but I have seen you and Jonathan together." I was half surprised. I knew
that someone had been watching us. I just didn't know that it has been
him. I was nervous. As an authority figure, he might act against Jonathan.

Mr. Bradshaw pictured up on my trepidation and held up his hand to assuage
me. "I did not ask you here to condemn your relationship and I have no
intention of kicking him off the team. That would only put me in a further
bind. Besides, I have nothing against gays. None of my business. I also
have no intention of making your relationship public. It is for you two to
decide when the time is right. Whatever you and Jonathan decide, I'll
support you both. I have asked you here because I have seen the way you two
interact and it got me thinking about your future." His mouth was still
moving, but my mind became to hazy to understand what he was saying. The
next words spoken with clarity, "I'm happy that you two found each
other. Thank you for dropping by and I look forward to seeing more of
you. Before you go, take this knapsack with you." It was a drawstring
knapsack, also mustard yellow. I placed it on the desk and was about to
look inside when he cautioned, "Not right now. Wait until you get
home. It's a secret surprise so no need to tell your boyfriend until it's
time." I shyly replied, "Okay." I stood up and headed to the door. My hand
was on the knob and I looked back at him. He looked up, "Things are going
to work out. You'll see."

Jonathan was curious about what my meeting with his coach was about. Away
from the ears of others, "He knows that we're in a relationship." He was
blindsided. I replied, "Coach said to not worry because he supports our
relationship and he'll keep it a secret. He said that us being a couple got
him thinking but he didn't say anything more until he gave me this bag. It
feels like there are clothes in there. He said to open it up later. He said
it's a secret surprise." All he did was nod and we parted ways in the
parking lot, just two confused guys.

When I got home, I threw the bag onto the bed. I sat next to it and opened
it up. He said that I could open it up when I got home. I was confused by
the contents. It was a complete work out ensemble: black tank, navy blue
mesh gym shorts, socks, sneakers of gold and black. On the top of the
clothes, there was a jockstrap. All were crisp and new, never worn. Why in
the world did he give me this? First, I would never wear these
clothes. Second, the sizes were off. They would fit someone of Jonathan's
build, but not mine. I opened the closet door and threw them in there.

It was the middle of October, a couple weeks later, and I had not looked
inside the knapsack since Mr. Bradshaw gave it to me. I had completely
ignored it. I didn't want to throw it away though so stuffing it away where
it would be the least bothersome was the best solution. Jonathan hadn't
asked me about its contents and Mr. Bradshaw hadn't asked me if I had tried
on the clothes.

It was the first Wednesday of the month and I was enjoying a lighthearted
evening watching classic Doctor Who episodes on one of those channels that
show old shows in my room after finishing my homework. I winced in pain. It
was as if someone had punched me in the gut. Then another punch and
another. I was driven from my bed by the agony and stumbled onto the floor.

Every bone and every muscle intensely ached by whatever was happening to
me. There was no place to think of how and why this was happening to me
because of the overwhelming agony that I couldn't run away from. My ears
inconceivably started to hear the banging of weights and the whirring of
machinery and rock music played low to flavor the mood. I knew these sounds
although I had not experienced them in person. I was hearing the heartbeat
of the gym. I glanced at my arms which were becoming thick, crafted from
years of working out. I felt my shoulders expand and saw my pectorals puff
up. Somehow, my clothes were keeping up with the changes. I felt like I was
drowning. My mind was becoming distant. All I could think of was working
out, sweating, and looking as bodacious as possible. I felt wonderful. I
felt a virility that I had never met before. I moaned in pleasure "Oh,
dude" as I lay on the floor feeling this unimaginable teenaged muscular
body. Distant and more distant until nothing.

*****

Mr. and Mrs. Park were in the den enjoying a quiet evening. They heard
their son's door open and a voice that sounded vaguely like their son's,
"I'm heading to the gym. Be back in a couple of hours." Any sense of
questioning such an outlandish statement was immediately squashed by a
feeling to just accept it without a second thought, "Have fun Jin-woo."

*****

It was another awesome Wednesday night at the gym. The moon was full and
bright. It would have been a romantic setting. If only I had someone to
share this night with. After swapping my clothes, I exited and walked
across the hallway to the workout area wearing black shorts and a white
tank. I enjoyed working out in the evening because I sleep wonderfully once
I hit the sack.

I had just finished with the treadmill. I like to start with cardio and
using the treadmill's my fav. I was at the bench and was getting the
barbell ready by setting the plates when I saw him. Who's that? I've never
seen him before and yet he seemed familiar. I felt a jolt from my eyes to
my groin. I had to be near him, and I had the perfect plan in my hand. I
motioned him over, "Yo! Over here. Can you help spot me?"

The muscular Asian in the black tank and navy blue mesh gym shirts
approaches "Sure bro. I got ya" and with every step, I feel more tingly
inside. He appeared to be about my age, and he is sporting a crewcut. I lay
down on the bench while he approaches from behind. I look up and got a
close look at his heavenly bulge. I was so close to it. I am not a size
queen, but by the curvature, I could tell that he was packing a nice piece
of Korean meat inside his shorts. How did I know he was Korean? That
feeling that I knew him came back. Wishful thinking Jon. You only want to
think you know him so if you two hook up, you won't feel guilty that you
got it on with a stranger. I looked back at his junk. Seeing is believing,
but I wanted to believe that he easily eclipsed my six inches. Anyone else
might have felt slighted by encountering an Asian guy who was more hung
than he, but I felt no shame. To be honest, I felt hungry for it. I wanted
to touch it, to open my mouth, and taste it.

A witty whisper, "Want to keep enjoying the view or want to hit the
weights?" My concentration broke and I blushed. Damn him and damn me the
most. Damn him for being hot and damn me for giving myself away. The silver
lining was that he wasn't repulsed by my gaze. Rather, he relished it. I
gripped the bar and breathed, "Let's do this." My new gym buddy lifted the
barbell, and I took on the load. He began to count for me. Up and down and
up and down. We continued like this for several minutes. All the while, he
was smiling at me.

We never parted for the rest of the evening. When he decided to run on the
treadmill, I had another go at it. My eyes glanced at the clock, and I knew
that I should have left several minutes ago. However, I stayed put because
I was enjoying myself too much. A part of me, the naughtier part, wanted to
see what my companion looked like in his true naked Korean glory. "Dude,
look at the time." More time had passed. It was nearly 10pm. I was thirty
minutes over my usual time. I agreed, "Let's call it an evening then."

He sharply turned around and headed to the locker room and I
followed. Swish, swish his curvy buns go. We enter and he opened the locker
behind the one I chose for today. Why was fate doing this to me? It was bad
enough that his time at the gym overlapped with mine. Now fate conspired to
place his chosen locker so close to my own. He took off his sweaty gym
clothes and tossed them into the mustard yellow drawstring knapsack he
had. Between taking off my own clothes, I sneaked looks at him. Looking
good there. He departed for the showers first and I soon followed. We were
the only ones there. To save myself, I took a spot four showerheads
down. Despite the distance, I got choice viewing and so did he. Every now
and then, he looked my way also and smiled as he lathered his bare body. I
was right. He was more endowed than I and he was intact. I had never seen
one before. Picked up on that I was looking at it, "Smidge over seven when
I get a hardon, but you're not bad yourself. Name's CJ by the way." I
replied, "I'm Jonathan, but my bros call me Jon." He nodded, "Nice to meet
you. Jon." He rinsed off and headed back to the locker area. I was still in
the middle of showering because I enjoy long showers. I hastily finished
and followed him.

Boy. That was quick. He was gone and the locker he had used was empty, its
door slowly swaying. Just my luck. Maybe I could catch him. I put on
clothes and scurried out with my belongings. Lobby, he is not there. I
enter the parking lot and I see a maroon car driving away. Rats, just
missed him. The car looked familiar. I thought he would have stuck around
so we could chat some more. It seemed to me that we had a budding
connection. Disappointed, I got into my own car and headed home.

My parents had started to get worried since I was nearly an hour late, but
they readily accepted my reason that I was just in the zone. It had
happened before. My mind has occasionally become a blank when I'm working
out. They nodded and I headed to the bathroom to wash up before bed. A piss
followed by brushing of teeth which was followed by heading to my room. I
ditched my clothes and slid beneath my sheets wearing just briefs. If I had
my way, I'd sleep naked if I could. I only wear gym shorts and a sleeveless
tee for a short time each evening if I'm not working out that day. I put
them in the chair next to my desk which is next to my bed in case I needed
to get up in the middle of the night.

I lay in bed and my eyes look up and then out the window. CJ is out
there. Somewhere, but he is also right here. In my dreams. The memory of
the brief time we had together had a profound impact on me. For years, I
had buried my attraction for other guys deep within me ever since I came to
the realization that girls didn't do and would never do anything for me. I
had hidden that side of me so that no one would suspect, and I wore a mask
that told everyone that I was straight. CJ had unearthed that feeling and
my mind became flooded with imagery I had long denied myself.

I was in our school's gym. Specifically, I was alone on the practice
mat. The only illumination was focused on the mat. A voice from the
darkness, "Hey Jon. I was wondering where you ran away to. We're sparring
this afternoon, remember?" A being comes out from the shadows. It is CJ
wearing a singlet in Washburn orange and white. Headgear is framing his
enchanting face. He approaches the ring and gets into
position. Instinctively, I crouch down to get into position also. Coach's
voice somewhere, "Ready?" We both signal that we are ready. With the
trilling of a whistle, we begin to grapple. He's good. CJ is one fine
wrestler, just like me. Why was he wearing our colors?  He was not on our
team. How could he when he didn't even go to our school? He seemed familiar
but trust me. My eyes would remember someone like that.

How long had we been wrestling? Several minutes had passed. We were rolling
around on the floor. Hands on skin and spandex as we tussled. It was
thrilling. Not sex thrilling, but athleticism thrilling. We were trying to
outdo each other. We both wanted to be on top, but it wasn't to be me today
as CJ pinned me. Another whistle. This was declared CJ as the winner. We
were about to head to the locker room when there was another whistle and a
suggestive tone, "That's just round one. You boys forgot about round two."
CJ and I both knew what round two was. It was a special regimen devised by
Coach. He knew that our fondest and wildest fantasy was to have hot guy
action in the gym.

As the winner, CJ pinned me down again. With purpose, he grinded his
maleness against my ass as he gripped my hips, and I was loving every
movement. The distended bulge in my singlet was obvious. I whispered
needfully, "Stuff your Korean meat in me. My hole is only for yours."

He flips me over and now I gaze into his eyes. He giggles and taps on my
nose with his index finger, "Silly goof. Plowing your ass is going to be my
grad gift to you." I become lost in them as his face comes closer and
closer until his lips touch mine. We frenziedly kissed until the magic
moment when his tongue invaded my mouth and began polishing the
inside. There was a pervasive silence besides the sounds of our kissing and
Mr. Bradshaw's moans, "That's it boys. Keep going. Keep it up." Our eyes
open and we see a now visible Paxton Bradshaw is sitting on the bottom
bleacher with his hand rubbing the front of his slacks, caressing the
sublime bulge he made. We continue to kiss, and he continues to touch
himself. We pause and look his way. Our mouths water as his eyes peer into
our minds and catches onto our cravings. He jerks his head and we come
over.

We get on our knees and feel his firm body. A buzzing feeling permeates our
bodies, and we want more. We look up at our coach and he smiles. I look at
the pulsating mound between his legs and I know what destiny calls me to
do. I reach for it, and I massage it. I am rewarded with another smile. I
reach for the zipper and lower it. I slip my hand inside and haul out a
splendid piece of dark meat. CJ and I look at each other and we both lean
forward. He positions his head and looks up as he feasts upon on those
succulent balls while my mouth is clamped on the shaft. I bobbed my head up
and down. We both look up to make sure that we are doing things right for
him.

Coach Bradshaw places his hands on our shoulders, "I knew you young men had
a thing for me. Liking how I taste? Tell me how I taste." I took the dick
out of my mouth and held it. I gave it several long licks with my tongue
while looking up at the man, "Chocolatey." CJ paused to coo, "Creamy and
nutty." He moaned, "Yea, you like Coach's candy bar, don't you?" We nodded
at the same time as we continued to snack on him, always looking at him in
the eye. His chest heaved and his breathing came in short bursts, "Here's
your treat." He took command of his cock and pounded away at it to cross
the finish line. He was an unending font of cum. He wasn't a dribbler. He
was a gusher as streams of semen blasted out and coated our open mouths.

Coach pulled up to our feet and told us to kiss each other. CJ and I held
each other's waists as we kissed and licked his essence off each other. "I
gotta get me some of this." He took his thick arms and wrapped them around
our waists. In turn, we held on to his waist. A trio of mouths clashed; a
trio of tongues grappled. "Yea, my boys. My boys."

*****

Out in the waking world of reality, a slumbering young man named Jonathan
Bonner humps the body pillow. A smile forms on his face as the bulge in his
trunk briefs becomes engorged. It soon throbs and a familiar spot appears
and beings to spread. More smiling. He snuggles against the pillow and
continues to sleep.

*****

I woke up with my head spinning. My sheets and quilt lay askew to the
side. I had been laying on my stomach. For a brief moment, I didn't know
where I was. For a slightly longer moment, I didn't even know what today
was. The only hint I was given that today was Thursday was the alarm on my
phone because I have a different song for every day. I tapped on the screen
to silence the alarm and I let out a yelp. I had glanced down and
discovered I was totally naked. I hastily put on my discarded sleepwear and
dashed to my dresser to get a pair of 2(x)ist contour pouch briefs.  I
wasn't considered a hot guy at school. Look at me. I was one of the
shortest guys in my class and I was scrawny. I also had a youthful face so
many people were surprised when I told them I was a Senior in high
school. Not at all like Jonathan or his bros. They were clearly males of
late adolescence, males of rich and handsome virility, males who would
attract plenty of attention. The only thing I had going for me was my
thing. I had prominent equipment between my legs. Since I turned 18 a month
ago, I wanted to treat it right. I selected five of my most frayed
underwear and tossed them in favor of something that looked more sensual.

I headed to the bathroom to get ready for school and as I showered,
troubled thoughts entered my mind. I distinctively remember watching Doctor
Who as I wore my pajamas. What about the rest of the evening? A blank. My
muscles were sore, and I massaged them with bubbly soap lather. I had never
felt anything like this. I had completed the mandatory PE classes and was
glad to leave them in the past. Any concern I had about the unfamiliar
sensations left my mind and disappeared. Just like the water circling down
the drain. Just finish and get ready for school.

Later that day, I was in the lunch line. Shuffle feet, shuffle feet. I pass
by Jonathan and his boisterous buddies. My ears pick up traces of his tale,
"I don't know who he was. All he said was his name was CJ and he drove a
maroon car. That's that. He ran outta there crazy fast. Know any muscle
Asian dudes?" They all shook their heads and then they gave him looks which
suggested that they though he was making this guy up because Jonathan
frowned, "I'm not making this guy up and I know I've seen him before. Not
the gym, but here." One of them saw me and said, "Uh? Kevin? Know any Asian
guys who go to the gym?"

My face scrunched up, "First bro, my name is Connor. Second, I don't do
gym. Do I look like I would be familiar with guys who go to the gym? Third,
I don't have the 411 about Asian guys our age in the area." They seemed
taken aback because they had never gotten such a reaction from me to
anything they have said. "Sorry, gotta go now." I knew I was blushing with
embarrassment as I turned my attention back to staying in line.

At the end of the day, Jonathan is at my locker. One eye is full of concern
while the other is brimming with wonder, "Whoa. Where'd you get a mouth
like that?" I looked away, "I don't know. It was like I was a different
person for a second." He absorbed what I said, "Not that I didn't enjoy
that, but there's a certain finesse to being cocky."

The two of us continued talking as we headed out the parking lot. Some were
puzzled by our interaction because we were so different. I asked, "What was
he like?" I wasn't worried about being upstaged by this mystery guy. I was
genuinely interested. Jonathan felt that it was the latter, "He was a great
workout buddy except for ditching me. When me and the other guys work out,
we linger a bit afterwards. Anyhow, he was as tall as you. His shoulders
and muscles were like mine though. Black hair in a crewcut. Korean too, but
don't ask me how I knew that. It was like someone put the two of us in a
blender and created a new guy. He was as real as you and me. I just wish I
had gotten to know him better."

*****

I was still feeling wistful when I got home. CJ was the best of both
worlds. He was into fitness like me, but he reminded me of Connor. It was
like he was Connor. I know I am not the brightest bulb, but even I could
tell that the guy I worked out with yesterday was not the same as the one I
went to school with.

Once I got home, my parents were getting ready for some blah
gala. Thankfully it was a school night, so I was under no obligation to
attend. My meal was already in the fridge. I just needed to heat it up. It
was leftover spaghetti and spicy Italian sausage from yesterday.

I sat in the living room eating my meal on the dinner tray as I was
watching The Great Escape. I stuck a piece of sausage in my mouth and
savored the texture and the spiciness. I felt an urge between my legs. I
was hungry for another type of spicy sausage. I just didn't know anyone to
join me for some fun. My phone buzzed. Huh? It was from CJ? I don't
remember exchanging numbers, but I went with it. I knew he could satisfy my
craving.

Through a series of quick texts, I told him I was alone and wanted
company. He got my meaning right away. What of his parents? Somehow, I knew
they were cool with us being along together despite not seeing him before
yesterday. In about thirty minutes, the doorbell rang. There he was. I just
had to know, "You are real, right?" He provides my ass with a playful slap,
"Of course bro. I'm real. I'm as real as you are." This didn't make
sense. I wanted to ask follow-up questions, but something inside my brain
told me to ignore them. It told me to just accept CJ was here for some
action.

We headed back to the living room and sat on the couch. He placed his arm
around me, and we finished watching the movie. We kept looking at each
other. Each time, there was a glimmer of friskiness. The movie continued to
play but we weren't really watching anymore. He turned it off and looked at
me. He knew what I wanted, and I knew what he wanted. He reached for my tee
and pulled it over my head. I took his shirt off in turn. He gently pushed
me, and I leaned back on the couch. He pressed his firm torso against mine
and grinded his crotch against mine. I reached around and clutched those
Korean buns of his clad in denim as we shared intense kisses, swirling
tongues.

I kept telling myself that this was right. My parents would never
understand these feelings I had. Soon, I would be going to college, and I
could be my true self there. CJ was lucky. His parents, although they
didn't understand, accepted his attraction towards men. Again, the question
of how I knew came to mind. Again, something in my mind told me to rebuff
such a banal question.  With knees on either side of me, he sat up. I
reached for his zipper, and I stopped him. He looked down at me with a
confused look. I looked up and said, "Let's take this to me room." He looks
at me and raised an eyebrow, "You sure?" I looked back up, "Really sure." I
still had a couple of hours and I wanted to make the most of them.

We kicked off our shoes and climbed on top of the bed to resume the
shedding of pants. We were just two guys in shirts, socks, and
underwear. My underwear was boringly plain but his was colorfully
provocative. I placed my hand on the cloth and began playing with his
bulge. The structure of the briefs just made what he had even more
awesome. If my parents caught me wearing something like this, they jaws
would drop to the center of the Earth. I planted my face on his mound and
breathed deeply to take in the scent of Korean manhood. I nudged it with my
nose, and I knew I was put on this planet for one reason, I was here to
serve Korean men, specifically this one Korean.

I reached for the waistband and pulled his briefs to his ankles. Behold!
It's already thickening and lengthening and starting to leak. That was
quick. Excellence in horniness just like my buddies. I kept my eyes open so
I could savor the sight of his penis entering my mouth. Contact. The
texture was amazing. At last, I was tasting cock. CJ placed both hands on
the top of my head to hold me in place while he fucked my mouth. He was at
the steering wheel, and I was just along for the ride. I had never done
this before, and I got the feeling that he had never been blown before. Up
and down, up and down. Except for blinking, I kept looking at what was
stuffing my mouth. All the while, he never let go of my head. Soon, he
began to quiver and whimper his Korean words. Then it happened. Warm thick
liquid began filling my mouth and I kept tightlipped so that nothing of him
escaped. I guzzled down every drop of CJ and I gingerly let go and squeezed
out the last few drops from his foreskin.

I had no time to rest as his hands were on my cock enrobed in a bushy
reddish bush. In no time, CJ had milked me well. I had lost all control
unlike CJ who held off jizzing for longer. How much more time did we have?
I reached for my phone as CJ put his clothes back on. "They said that
they'd be home at 10:30." We had a good hour left, but I wanted to take no
chance. I feared how they'd react if they saw me and a strange teen guy
mostly naked in bed together. I started to put my clothes back on and we
looked around for our shirts only to realize that they were waiting for
us. We headed down the hall and put our shirts back on.

I showed him to the door, "I hope we can see each other soon." He seemed to
be in a trance as if he was lost in thought. His face twitched as he
snapped out of whatever haze he had been in, "Yea. Yea. Tomorrow." I stood
at the door and watched him climb into his car and continued to watch as he
drove away. Tomorrow? I had no gym time on the schedule, only school. How
could I see him tomorrow? As soon as he disappeared around the corner, I
received a text from my parents. They were just around the corner. From the
other end of the street, I could see headlights.  I quickly locked the door
and ran at the couch and turned on the TV. It was on something I wouldn't
ever see so I switched it to sports. Oops. Shirt on inside out. I lifted it
off my body and fixed it just in time because a few seconds later, my
parents entered. Unaware that I had an unauthorized visitor, they greeted
me. I got lucky. I wish I could come out, but I just couldn't take that
chance. Maybe if the right guy came alone, I might be willing to take a
gamble. Not now though.

*****

Another morning and again my head is in a heavy fog. I remember watching
videos on my phone and then nothing. Nothing until this morning when my
phone's alarm woke me up. What was wrong with me? I felt the front of my
underwear and felt the sign of wet dream. I dreamed that I was visiting
Jonathan while his parents were out, and we had fun. I felt a strange
euphoria as I recalled a moment. He worshiped my cock, and he knew how to
please it. What had I done to earn his adoration? I thought that he would
want me to give him head since he was the jock, a position of high
status. I remembered impossible touches. Pecs like his, Abs like his. We
were two sides of the same coin since we were of the same height and of the
same musculature. How were we to decide who would be pleasured first?
Colorful undies holding back bigger meat equals me being first.

As I took my weird musings with me into the bathroom, I chuckled at the
imagery. This other Connor wasn't so mismatched. His athletic body
splendidly complemented the package he had been blessed with. Nothing at
all like me. I showered and returned to my room to get dressed for school.

Throughout the rest of the day, I felt weird. How do I describe it? What
does the butterfly-to-be feel when it is still in its chrysalis? I felt
exactly like that as if my body was just a shell for an emergent
lifeform. This might seem to be a source of joy. It was not. Not for me. I
felt dread. What was happening to me? How was it happening? Why? All these
questions led to the same person: Paxton Bradshaw, the Coach of Washburn
High wrestling team.

"Enter." I headed to Mr. Bradshaw's office at the end of the school day. I
felt drawn to go there at that time, not one minute earlier, as if
receiving an ethereal summons. I stood before him and asked, "What's
happening to me?" He closed that familiar notebook from the last time I met
him, "You're being converted. I tried finding a replacement for the team. I
was really trying even while I was starting to lose faith that I would find
someone suitable to join in time. Imagine my relief when I discovered your
relationship with Jonathan. I noticed the chemistry you two had even before
I realized that it was more than just a friendship. I decided I could
cultivate that into something I could use."

Coach Bradshaw reviewed the notepad he had in front of him, "So I began
rewriting your profile. My magic's rusty so I didn't do a complete rewrite
of your entire life. Copying Jonathan's stats and abilities onto your
profile also helped immensely. I also have had to make everyone dismiss the
absurdity of you becoming CJ unexpectedly. Who is he? He's a wrestling jock
version of you and I know he'll fit in splendidly. Those moments you've had
during the past couple of days were the times when CJ took over. Soon, he
will be here permanently." He smiled, "It's already starting. Right on
schedule."

I grunted in discomfort and my eyes grew wide as my left arm became
muscular and then the right. I felt like taffy as my shoulders
widened. "Want to see the action?" He placed an iPad on the desk and
switched it to camera mode before placing it where I could watch myself.

My physique was swelling to my boyfriend's proportions, to his height, and
my clothes were changing along with me. They weren't only changing
size. They were also becoming tantalizing just like my briefs so they would
highlight the new musculature I was developing. The shape of my face was
becoming rectangular just like Jonathan's. The quiff that I had was
becoming a short crewcut with a high fade. Instinctively, I felt my honed
pecs and biceps. I felt happy, a dumb happiness, as I basked in the
wondrous bliss of being a teen muscle jock. No, this was wrong. I cried out
fearfully, "I...don't want to be...a jock...be a jock." Then in a wanting
tone, "I want to be a jock."

I was feeling extremely turned on and I had to grip Mr. Bradshaw's desk to
steady myself. It wasn't just because I saw a hot Korean guy looking back
at me, it was the thought of wrestling and working out which excited every
fiber of my being. My balls being converted to produce healthy batches of
jock juice. I felt a burning need to plant my cock in a hole.

Mr. Bradshaw noticed my arousal and he chortled, "Mine doesn't point in the
same direction as yours, but a hole is a hole. You just desire a different
one, right CJ?" I whimpered as I gripped and kneaded the front of my jeans
which I now had instead of the khaki pants I had just a short time ago,
"Yes Coach." He smiled, "Tell me whose hole you desire." Another whimper,
"I want to plant Jonathan badly with my Korean pole." My boyfriend's ginger
ass danced in my head. If I was home, I would have unzipped my jeans and
whipped it out so I could whomp away. I nearly did but he stopped me,
"There's always time for that later. You don't want to go overboard on your
first permanent day as CJ."

My horniness subsided and I nodded, "So does this mean I'm on the team?" I
still felt trepidation, but I was optimistic as new emotions poured in
me. He smiled with relief, "It sure does. Oh! I have a gift for you. You
need to look the part." It was a box. He slit the packaging tape an opened
it up. Wrapped in plastic was a blue letterman jacket with white
sleeves. He carefully cut into the plastic, "Take it out." I gently slid it
out of the plastic and held it up. It had the letter W on the left side and
on the back, the name of Park in ribbon script was on the back with my
middle name of Jin-woo below to proclaim to the world that I was a Korean
jock. "Try it on." I slid my arms through the sleeves, and I looked at my
reflection. I likes what I saw, and I felt a joyful sense of
purpose. "Feels nice, doesn't it?" I looked up at my coach and said, "Yes
sir." He was thrilled, "Excellent. Time to meet the rest of your
teammates."

*****

The young men of the Washburn High wrestling team suited up for practice
and waited patiently. Their coach said that he had finally found someone to
join the team and he would be here with his find. Jonathan and the others
gossiped about who it might be. Most of the names bantered about were those
from the football team. That seemed unlikely because there seemed to be an
unwritten rule at Washburn that no athlete played for both. It was one or
the other. The time for speculation was at an end. There was their coach in
the doorway with a figure in the shadow, "Guys. Your attention please. I've
found a recruit to our squad. Come on out."

The eyes of the young men grew wide, Jonathan's the most, as a muscular
teenage Korean male appeared from the shadow. Coach Bradshaw announced,
"Guys, you know Connor Park." Their new teammate interjects, "You can call
me CJ though." The athletes remembered that Connor looked very different
earlier in the day, scrawny. Now he has a physique suitable for high school
wrestling. A different thought permeated Jonathan's brain. Everything made
sense now. He didn't understand how this happened. He only knew that that
Connor had been CJ all along. Any further questioning left their
minds. Just accept that this is the new Connor, or rather CJ, and he is
here to join them.

CJ's new buddies watched with eagerness as he suited up in the
singlet. They decided it suited him well. Some exchanged cursory glances at
each other as their eyes looked downward. It was clear that he was on the
high end of the teen meat spectrum. The new player asked, "How do I look?"
They clapped in adulation. Mr. Bradshaw, "Time for practice men. Get a move
on out there. Let's make it a fantastic season." Jonathan looked at CJ and
gave a mischievous grin, "We sure will."

=====

I would appreciate any comments you may have, but please keep insults or
flames to a minimum. I'll try to respond to everyone, but no promises.
Please mention the title of the story so I know what you are referring
to. You can email me at: chaoswolf04@yahoo.com.