Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2024 17:08:12 -0400 From: Hank Subject: Sophomore Year 28 Sophomore Year 28 In this chapter, Buck tells the story of his parking lot adventure, a tale that leaves Hank tingling. Many thanks to all those who continue to send encouragement and share their own experiences and fantasies. I love hearing from Nifty readers. And remember - Nifty depends on our donations! Let's help it survive and thrive! If you have ever shot a load reading a Nifty post, then please consider making a contribution at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Chapter 28 Sitting back, Buck launched into his tale. "So, y'know how there's no dressin' room at Mel's, right? I mean, if there's no other customers, Mel lets me try stuff on in back, or right there on the floor even. But if it's busy at all, I'm outa luck." "So one afternoon, I'm in there and I come across these incredible running shorts, super soft and silky, I mean, like you wouldn't believe. They look like they'll fit perfect and even the stupid liner doesn't look too bad." "But the place is busy, after work crowd, y'know, so no way I can try `em on there. Mel's sorry as he's checking me out at the register and leans in close and says, `Hey, why not just try `em on in your car? Drive around back. It's getting' dark, nobody'll see ya." "I think he's crazy, so go out to my car, toss the shorts on the seat, and think I'll just head home. But before I get outa the parkin' lot, I'm lookin' at these beautiful silky soft shorts on the seat next to me, it's like they're callin' to me or somethin', and I think, `I can't wait.'" Buck paused and looked over at me. "Ya think I'm crazy?". "No, sir." I'm not lying. "Truth is, I'd probably be thinking the exact same thing." Buck nods seemingly assured. "So, I pull around behind the store, there's nobody there, right? And it's gettin' dark, so I think, `No way anybody's gonna see me.' So I strip down, all the way `cept my sneakers, cuz remember, these shorts got that silky liner and I really wanna see how it's gonna feel on my nuts, so I'm sittin' there naked, holdin' the shorts, checkin' `em out one more time before I put `em on, and guess what I hear." "No!" I was already engrossed in the story and now this put me on the edge of my seat imagining the worst that could happen. "Yep," Buck confirms, "this official soundin' voice sayin' "License and registration, sir." "Noooo!" I exclaim, feeling every bit of the panic of the situation. "True! Luckily, I got my wallet on the seat beside me, so I put the shorts down on the passenger seat and hand him my license but damn, I cannot find the stupid registration. So, I just sit there, waitin'." "Finally, the cop hands it back and says, `Mr. Bryant, you mind telling me what you're doing back here behind the store parked in a car for which you have no registration, sitting in your birthday suit?'" "So, I'm like, `Officer, look, I was just tryin' on these shorts I bought at the thrift store here on account o' there's no dressin' room inside.' And the cop steps right up to the window and starts shinin' his flashlight everywhere: at the shorts, in the backseat, at the dashboard and then aims it down at my lap. I'm kinda freakin' out. So, I add, `And the car is registered in my name." "`Is it now?' He doesn't sound convinced. Then he asks, `Those the shorts?'" "And I say, `Yes, sir,' and hand `em to him. And he starts inspectin' `em like they could be contraband or somethin', turnin' `em over and inside out. And meanwhile, I'm just sittin' there naked as a jaybird. And he's all calm like nothin's out of the ordinary." "So, he holds up the shorts with one hand, and shines his flashlight through `em from behind and then shines it down on my lap again and says, `You sure these are yours, Mr. Bryant? They seem mighty flimsy for a man of your, uh... dimensions." I'd noticed before that Buck was a gifted storyteller, able to bring a tale to life. Now I realized how good he was at imitating voices. It was like I could hear the policeman actually talking. Buck continued, "`They runnin' shorts,' I explain, `supposed to be lightweight. The lighter, the better, they say.'" "`Oh, do they?' he says, like not convinced. And he's holdin' `em up with both hands in front of his face and kinda jigglin' `em a little, like tryin' to figure somethin' out, and then he says, `So, Mr. Bryant, what do you wear under these...very...lightweight..' and he says those last two words real slow, like he's suspicious or somethin', `...running shorts?'" "'Depends on the guy,' I say, `Some guys good with just that built-in liner, other guys like havin' the support of a jockstrap.' And I'm tryin' to figure this guy out, like has he never seen a pair of runnin' shorts before? He looks pretty built, like he's played ball or somethin', so he oughta know this stuff." "Meanwhile," Buck explains, "I thinkin' I got this `buddy,' Marty Dobbs, who works on the force, but he's told me to never mention his name, on account I run the place off the books, and he don't want any kind of stink over being a payin' customer and all. So, I decide I'll only mention his name as a last resort." "Anyway, this cop says, `But doesn't the liner get in the way if you wear these with a `strap?' and I'm thinkin', `Was that a slip?' It's usually only guys who wear jocks a lot use the word `strap.' So, maybe he knows more than he's lettin' on, but of course I answer the question." "`Yes, sir,' I says, `it does.'" "'So,' he asks, `what do you do about that?' And I explain that if a guy plans on wearing the shorts with a jockstrap he probably just cuts out the liner." "`I see,' he says, `and so, Mr. Bryant, which do you prefer, the liner or a jockstrap?' and he's shining his damn flashlight at my balls again! Like he's gonna judge whether my answer makes sense or not based on what I'm packin' `tween my legs? I'm thinkin' `this is crazy, man!" I had to admit that, even after all the crazy situations I'd found myself in that past few days, Buck's story was even crazier. It was tapping into some of my worst fears, but I was totally fascinated by it and begged him to continue. "So, I tell him I'm partial to the support of a jockstrap and that I always have been." "`And why is that, Mr. Bryant?' he asks, `Do you consider yourself to be better endowed than the average male?'" "And that freaks me out a little, especially `cuz he's still shinin' that flashlight in my lap, like he's gonna be the judge of this." "So, of course I say no, not wantin' to sound like I think I'm better'n anybody. I say I like wearin' a jockstrap for health reasons, and real professional-like, I add, `to protect a key part of the male reproductive system,' and mention that I have two handsome strappin' boys to show for it." "Then, like lookin' for proof he asks, `So, shall I assume you have a jockstrap with you now, Mr. Bryant?'" And I say `Yes, sir, it's on the back seat.' This guy has really got me sweatin' bullets." "Then he says, `Will you retrieve it for me, Mr. Bryant?' and I'm like, OK, but it's weird `cuz I have to sort of lift my hips off the seat and twist around to reach back there and the whole time, this cop stays at the window with his damn flashlight on my nuts." "So, I hand him my jockstrap and just like with the shorts, he starts this careful examination, like it's a murder weapon or somethin.' And then he says, `And what is the brand and the size of this particular jockstrap?' like it's a test, like maybe it's not mine, like does he think I just stole this car or somethin'?" "'It's a Duke large, sir. One of the finest jockstraps on the market.' I'm tryin' to sound like I know what I'm talkin' about." "'Uh-huh,' he says, like still not completely convinced, and still looking at the label, he next says, `And what are the recommended care instructions for this finest jockstrap on the market?' and I can't tell if he's playin' with me or what. Like, admittedly, the pouch is a pretty ripe, I mean, I could smell it from where I was sittin', so I know he was getting' a nose full. But to his credit, he's not actin' squeamish or anything." "Anyway, I says, "I don't follow those `cuz any guy who's owned a decent jockstrap knows that tossin' it in a washer and dryer's the worst thing you can do. It'll fry it out in no time. So, it's—" And here, I joined Buck in reciting the classic formula, "-- hand wash, warm water, mild soap, air dry and only as needed.'" We slapped palms very pleased with ourselves. Buck continued with his story. "'Only as needed, huh?' the cop seems amused. `And how needed would you say a washing is for this jockstrap?' and he holds the friggin' strap right up to my nose!" "`Want to take a deep breath for me, Mr. Bryant?' he asks, and I figure this is another test, to see if I'm gonna gag or somethin'. But I just calmly take a deep breath and then, just to show off a little, another." "'And what is that you smell on this finest of jockstraps, Mr. Bryant?' He asks." "`That is my scent, sir," I say. I mean, what else am I gonna say, right?" "'Your `scent'?' he repeats, like it does not compute, `Do you mean to say that is a cologne you have purchased?'" "No, sir,' I almost laugh, but keep a straight face, `I mean my musk, Officer.' And tryin' to sound scientific, I say, `The scent of accumulated perspiration in the groin area and probably some `pre-ejaculate, sir.'" "'I see.' He says and then, `Mr. Bryant, I'm going to ask you to stay in your car until I return in a moment.' And of course, I'm like, `Yes, sir, Officer.' Especially since he walks away with the shorts and jockstrap in his hands." "So, he walks back to his squad car. I'm lookin' in my rear view mirror and can see that all the lights are off which is why I didn't notice `em in the first place. His windows are dark, I can't tell if anybody else is in there." "He returns a few minutes later and says, `Mr. Bryant, I'm going to ask you to put this blindfold on for minute.'" "And I'm thinkin', `Blindfold? What the hell is goin' on here?' But of course, I comply. I'm not really in any position to make trouble, am I? I'm just prayin' I don't get locked up for indecent exposure. So, I put on the blindfold and sit tight." "'Now, Mr. Bryant, I am going to hold a piece of clothing to your nose, and I want you to tell me if it is indeed your jockstrap. Are you ready?'" "And I'm like, `Sure, Officer, proceed.' But inside I'm thinkin' what the hell is goin' on here?'" "So, he holds somethin' up to my nose and I take a deep breath, and I'm stunned. It is definitely not my jockstrap, but I can tell it is some guy's jock, and it's not a boy's, it's a man's, there's definitely ball sweat, it hasn't been washed for a while, but there's also a good dose of cum in there, and weirdest of all, it smells vaguely familiar! I am stumped. But all I say is that it's not my jockstrap." "So, he pulls it away and puts somethin' else up to my face. 'And now can you tell me if this piece of clothing is yours?' and sure enough it's my jockstrap, and I tell him so." "And he does this like half a dozen times, switchin' `em around, tryin' to trip me up, but if there's one thing I know, it's the smell of my own jockstrap. And the cop seems convinced I can tell the difference between the two." "'Now, Mr. Bryant, please tell me what you are able detect from the owner's `musk' of this other piece of clothing.' And he holds it up to my nose again. So I tell `im. I tell `im it's a grown man's jock, that it hasn't been washed in a while, and that in addition to sweat and balls, there is a scent of semen." "'Semen, you say?' the cops says, like real curious. "And how do you suppose this garment came into contact with semen, Mr. Bryant?' like it's a courtroom drama or something and we're about to find out who the real murderer is." "So, I say, `Well, I'd say either he was wearin' the jock during ejaculation, or he used it to wipe up afterwards." "'And in your experience, Mr. Bryant, is it common for men to ejaculate while wearing a jockstrap? Aren't they designed for use during athletic activities?'" "'Theoretically, yes, Officer, but, well, if you've ever been in locker room, sometimes after a game, guys get to horsin' around, or a fellah just needs a little release...'" "'So, in your opinion, Mr. Bryant, is it more likely that this ejaculation resulted from masturbation versus actual intercourse?" "Yes, Officer, I would say so." "'And do you think this jockstrap has absorbed semen on only one occasion?' and he holds it over my face and kind of presses." "And truth is I can smell some really old cum but also some more recent, so I tell the Officer that." "So, it's your opinion that this jockstrap has been used repeatedly during masturbation?" "Yes, Officer, that would follow." "And in your experience, is it unusual for a man to employ a jockstrap during his masturbatory activities?" "It is not unheard of,' I say, trying to imitate his way of speaking." "'Not unheard of, Mr. Bryant?' he repeats like he's waitin' for me to say more.'' "So I say, `Well, Officer, a guy and his `strap can get pretty close, ya might say. And some guys like to `mark' a `strap as theirs and theirs alone. I guess that's kinda like an animal instinct or somethin'. And sometimes the feel of a `strap can just make a guy feel more...aware of his equipment and kinda remind `im it's there and gets `im thinkin' about it.'" "'Thank you for that very thorough explanation, Mr. Bryant.' And I figure maybe I'm getting myself outa the woods, until all a sudden, the cop follows up with, `And have you yourself ever employed a jockstrap during your own masturbatory activities?" "And this catches me totally off guard. I'm like, wait, was that other jock found at a crime scene or somethin' and he's tryin' to get me to admit that it could be mine? So I just flat out say, `I can guarantee you, Officer, that is not my jockstrap. It's weird because for some reason it does smell kinda familiar, but it is not mine.'" "And he comes right back with, `I didn't ask you if the jockstrap were yours, Mr. Bryant. I asked you if you yourself have ever employed a jockstrap during your own masturbatory activities. For example, to mark it as yours and yours alone or because the fit made you more aware of your equipment and reminded you it was there.'" "So, I'm stumped. Here he is, repeatin' my own words back to me like maybe they're somehow incriminatin'. They say the worst thing to do in a situation like this is lie, but I'm not sure telllin' him the whole truth is gonna do me any favors, either. So, I say, `Umm, possibly, Officer." "'Possibly, Mr. Bryant? Or did you mean `probably?' This guy is relentless. `Mr. Bryant, would I be totally incorrect if I suspected that you have employed a jockstrap in this manner on more than one occasion?'" "And I remember readin' one time that if ya don't wanna answer `yes' or `no,' the best thing is to say you don't remember. So, I say, `That is possible, Officer. It's just at this moment, I can't recall cuz I'm all nervous.'" Listening to Buck tell this story had my head spinning. In the telling, Buck was basically letting me know that he had jacked off with his jockstrap more than once. And did not seem to think I would be shocked or surprised to hear this. I felt a sudden urge to stand in front of Jack's mirror wearing just my jockstrap. I wasn't sure why. Buck continued. "So, at that point, the cop says, `Mr. Bryant, I'm gonna need you to step out of the car. And leave the blindfold on. But first I'm going to ask you to put on these shorts.' And I'm thinkin', `Thank God he's not makin' me get out naked!'" "So, he hands me the shorts and even blindfolded I can tell it's the same pair, they're so silky, and I figure out which is front and back, and pull them up over my sneakers and get out of the car." "The cop guides me a short distance and tells me to stand still for minute. I figure I'm probably between the squad car and my own. I have no friggin' idea what's goin' on or what's about to happen next." "And then the cop asks, `So, Mr. Bryant, are those indeed the shorts you allegedly purchased in the store today?'" "And I cannot for the life of me figure out what he tryin' to get at, but I say, "Yes, Officer, these are the shorts I purchased.'" "'And how can you identify these as those same shorts, Mr. Bryant?' Again, like we're in a courtroom and this guy is Perry Mason." "And I say, `Well, by the fabric, sir. When I saw `em on the rack, I noticed how soft and silky they were and these,' and I pulled a bit of the shorts leg through my fingers, `are silky just like they were.'" "'I see,' says the cop, `and is it your opinion, Mr. Bryant, that the soft and silky fabric will improve your athletic performance when wearing this short?' I mean, it's like this guy thinks he's in court givin' me the third degree. It's like he's tryin' to catch me up lyin' about somethin', but for the life of me, I can't figure out what it could be." "So, I give an honest answer. `No, sir. I do not think that." "'Then why would you be determined to purchase this particular short, Mr. Bryant, and be so eager to try it on that you would risk arrest for public indecency?' OK, so now this guy's really got my attention and I figure my only hope is just to stick to the truth." "So, I say it was for comfort, that when I first felt the shorts in the store right away I thought about how great they would probably feel to wear. And that's why I bought `em and that's why I couldn't wait to try `em on and pulled around back for privacy `cuz I never intended to offend and shock anybody. I didn't think anybody would see me." "'But we did see you, Mr. Bryant, didn't we?' This guy's got me boxed into a corner and he knows it. It's like he's playin' cat and mouse with me." "He goes on, `Now, Mr. Bryant, you say that you purchased the shorts because you anticipated they would feel great to wear, is that correct?'" "And I say, `Yes, sir, that is correct.' "'And where in particular did you anticipate this `great feeling'?' And I'm not sure where he's goin' with this, so I just say, `Uh, everywhere, sir.'" "And like this courtroom lawyer, the cop says, `Everywhere? And Mr. Bryant, in what part of the male anatomy that would come into contact wearing these shorts would you guess there is the greatest concentration of sensory nerve endings?'" "I sensed where he was goin' with this and considered pleadin' the Fifth. I stalled for time until he insisted, `Mr. Bryant?' Finally, I muttered almost under my breath, `uh, the genitals, sir.'" "'Did you say `the genitals,' Mr. Bryant?' he repeats in a loud voice.'" "`Yes, Officer.' I almost whisper back." "`And by `the genitals, Mr. Bryant, are you referring to the testicles and the penis, with particular reference to the glans, more commonly known as the head or tip?'" "I am totally lost at this point, thinkin' maybe this is a dream I'm gonna wake up from. Still, I answer the cop, 'I suppose I am, Officer." "'You suppose you are. And yet, Mr. Bryant, did you not also say this evening that your intent was to remove that `soft, silky' liner to facilitate wearing a jockstrap with these shorts, thereby isolating your genitals from any contact with the `great feeling' of these shorts? Can you explain that contradiction for me?'" "'Well, Officer,' I says, `I was thinkin' maybe I'd make an exception, for just that reason.'' "'An exception?' he acts surprised, `But Mr. Bryant, what about protecting a key part of the male reproductive system?' It's like this guy remembers every single word I say. `Did that suddenly lose all importance once the promise of a soft, silky pair of shorts caressing your genitals appeared? Is that more important to you than the health of your future offspring?' "This guy has me so befuddled, I'm not sure what to say. So, I just stand there mute for minute. Then he says, `Mr. Bryant, did you not say you found the liner of running shorts provided insufficient support?' And I say, `Yes, sir, in my experience that is true.'" "So this cop goes, `Very well, Mr. Bryant, I would like to personally observe what you are asserting. Would you please execute twenty jumping jacks?' And now I'm wonderin' if this is some kind of sobriety test, like maybe he thinks I'm drunk or high or somethin'." "So, I start with the jumpin' jacks. And in spite of my earlier hopes, the shorts do not provide anywhere near as much support as I'm used to. I start floppin' up and down. My balls are bouncin', my dick is flyin' all over the place. The fabric feels amazing though, super soft and silky, rubbin' all over my balls and dick head, just like the cop was sayin'. And sure enough, before I know it..." "No!" I exclaimed. "Don't tell me! You didn't!" This is absolutely the most terrifying situation my teenage, body-conscious self I could imagine. "Oh, I did, lil' sailor boy," Buck assured me, "I really and truly did. But wait, it gets worse." "How in the world could it get worse?" I asked. "So, I'm about half hard at this point, and the cop says, `Now, Mr. Bryant, how would you evaluate the support provided by those shorts?' and I'm like, "About zero, Officer." "And he says, `About zero, Mr. Bryant? Would you mind if I verified that assertion?' And I'm like, no way he's suggestin' what I think he's suggestin'. I mean, nobody's accused me of being shy for a long time, but this is just outright bizarre. I mean, what the hell is this guy tryin' to prove?" "And sure enough, he says, `Please remove the shorts, Mr. Bryant.' And when I hesitate, he says, `Or would you prefer thatI remove them for you?' And I'm thinkin', `Screw you, bud! You wanna these shorts off, then you take `em off yourself!'" "So, I say, all respectful like, `Apologies, Officer, but I don't trust my balance wearing this blindfold. If you could provide the necessary assistance...' And I hear him walk up to me, and feel his fingers reach under the waistband and start to pull down. And I'm thinkin', I would pay a million bucks to be able to see this for myself." "And he's tuggin' `em down, and as he gets lower, the waistband is like slidin' down my semi, holdin' it down until, boom! It's loose and pops up and hits somethin', I swear it's this cop's face, I mean, it's gotta be, and I hear him like grunt in surprise. Don't think he was expectin' to get dick-slapped in the face that night." Buck laughed. "So, I'm worried he's gonna get pissed off, but then, how can he? This is all his doin'. Anyway, he stays cool as a cucumber, gets my shorts off and then tells me to do twenty more jumpin' jacks, naked!" I gasped, trying to picture this vivid, bizarre scenario that Buck is painting for me. Forced to jump up and down naked and blindfolded in front of a policeman. It was worse than my worst nightmare. "And so, I start with the jumpin' jacks, dick's really flyin' now, balls bouncin' and jouncin' in the night air. The situation is so bizarre, but try hard as I might, no way I can keep from getting' hard again. And the harder I get, the more it's swingin' and flyin' around. And just as I'm wrappin' up my twenty, I hear a camera click, and think, `Shit, this has been a set up! He arranged to get me naked and hard in public so that he can arrest me!" "So, I'm thinkin', `Enough of this shit!" and I start to take off the blindfold, but before I can, the cop says, `Mr. Bryant, I'd like you to say hello to my patrol partner, Officer Dobbs.'" "And I rip off the blindfold and standin' right in front of me, in uniform with a camera and shit-eatin' grin, is my buddy from the gym, Marty Dobbs!" "'You motherfucker!' I yell at the son of a bitch, `I shoulda known that was your stinkin' jock! I'm gonna kill you for this!' But Marty bursts out laughin', sayin' `C'mon, Buck, ya gotta admit I gotcha pretty good, huh?' "'Maybe,' I say, `But you're gonna hand over that roll of film right this minute!' "Which he does, laughin', `No problem. This is the roll I used to take all those pictures in the gym last week, so this is the icing on the cake. That last one'll make for a great poster...perfect for the sauna!'" And once I realize this whole thing has been an elaborate set up, a hoax, I have to laugh too, mainly from relief. I mean, they really got me goin', but good!" "I yelled, `You guys nearly had me shittin' in my pants!' and Marty says, `What pants, pal? I never saw any pants.' And we all started laughin' again." "And then I grab his partner in a quick headlock. `And this guy! Give him an Oscar! With his `would you mind if I verified that assertion'—unbelievable! Man, you so totally had me goin'!" "'Brad Thomas, by the way,' says this cop who's been torturin' me for the past hour. He puts out his hand and says, `You know your buddy Marty here put me up to this. It was all his idea. No hard feelings, I hope.'" "And I says, "Naah, pretty sure I popped you in the face with my dick, so we can probably call it even.'" "'Aaaah,' he goes, `I been hit with lots worse. And I'll bet your dick has popped a lot prettier faces than mine.'" "And I'm like, `Hmmm, don't know about that, felt pretty nice, to tell the truth.'" "So, he laughs at that and says, `You're a good sport and I owe ya one. Nice to meetcha.'" "'Y'know', this Officer Brad goes on, `Marty was tellin' me how you could tell one jock from another blindfolded and I thought he was shittin' me so I bet him twenty bucks ya couldn't. But now I think I'm just gonna give that twenty to you." "Plus another for verifyin' that my patrol buddy here jerks off in his jockstrap. That is worth its weight in gold.' And he pulls the bills outa his wallet and hands `em over. `That was friggin' amazing,' he says. "So I say, `Aww, that's just for starters. Get Marty to bring ya by the gym sometime and I'll show ya lots more. First month is free." "So that all seemed settled, and then I start thinkin' and say, `Hey, how'd you guys know to be snoopin' around back here anyway? Was it Mel tipped ya off? Y'know, he's the one told me come back here in the first place.'" "And all a sudden, Marty's like, "Uh-oh, Sarge is callin', we better get back to the station pronto!' and they take off like a puff of smoke." "And to this day, even though none of `em will admit it, I suspect the whole thing was cooked up by Mel. Can you believe that shit?" And as Buck wrapped up his tale, it was like I woke up from a dream and realized I was not in that back alley at dark but sitting in the parking lot in broad daylight. I was going to ask Buck if these two officers still came to the gym and if I might ever meet them. But then I realized that my hand was under my shirt rubbing on my nipples and I was hard. I thought I was going crazy. The pouch of my jock felt soaked. I must have been leaking like crazy listening to his story. Once again, I was confused and befuddled by my own reactions to things around me. And last, I realized that without planning to, and definitely not in the way I'd imagined, I had completed Buck's first homework assignment. I wondered if in some strange way, he'd be proud of me.