STARBOY
~ by Billy Wright ~



This story draws heavily from my own REAL LIFE EVENTS but is still fiction. (I'm a college student so you'll have to forgive me if I don't upload that often). I'm always open to talk about anything and everything:
billy.alexander.wright@gmail.com


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CHAPTER 2
THE SOCCER MOMS


When someone tells you a story but keeps going off in tangets... it could be frustraiting. However, I've recently learned that sometimes said tangents can not only be enjoyable but actually enhance the story. See, I could just jump forward in time and tell you what happened the next day at the locker rooms but, for your information, I will first tell you this: the day after I saw the swimming team on the locker rooms, I woke up hard and wet.

Now that was weird! We are all different in many ways and that includes down there. Me, for example, I've never been a very wet guy. I don't produce lots of precum except when I get really -and I mean really- excited. That night was one of those days.

I woke up and immediately felt wet and sticky, my boyhood was pushing hard against my briefs. You could easily see, even from above the covers, the situation I had down there.

However, at age thirteen, as always, I didn't wake up on my own. Actually, my father was the one who used to woke me up back then and that day... that day was no different.

"Time to wake... up," that pause, that second long pause. It killed me.

Every family has a different view on nudity, they have rules, and for most families those rules are unspoken rules or at least that's how it was for my family. We weren't prudes but we weren't nudists either. Me seeing my sisters in panties or my dad in boxers wasn't a big deal but seeing each other naked? Now, that was a big deal.

So, that was one of the unspoken rules: underwear is fine, fully naked isn't.

We also had another unspoken rule: if you happened to see someone else semi-naked, then we had to act as if the other person was fully dressed. No comments on the amount of clothes, no jokes about it either. Just ignore it. Weird, right? Or maybe normal? Depends on how you grew up, I guess.

Now, about me: I used to move a lot during the night. And I mean a lot, a lot. Especially during the summer. I usually woke up with the bedsheets on my ankles, leaving my whole body exposed.

I don't know why I'm like that, it just happens. So, that one morning, when my father entered my room to wake me up:

"Time to wake..." and there was that pause.

That pause told me everything. My father saw me. He saw how I woke up and even though we never talked about it, I'm absolutely sure he opened the door, turned to look at the bed and saw his only son, in his briefs, sporting a massive hard on and, on the tip of my briefs, he saw the enormous wet stain I had made. A gigantic spot of moist that covered the front of my briefs.

"...up."

It was embarrassing. I got up and covered myself as fast as I could.

"Breakfast is ready," my dad acted as if nothing had happened. "Don't take long."

I didn't reply, I couldn't.

When my father closed the door again I wanted to die of embarrassment. For many years, that was one of the most shameful moments of my existance. It was almost as if my father had beared witness to my wild, explicit, 13-year-old dreams about a naked swimming team.

However, as I got older, thinking about that moment: my dad looking at me, stained and wet, raging a hard on... well, let's just say embarrassment isn't the reacton I feel anymore.



***


At the fitness center, we all practiced our routine for the big show on the final day. Then, we went to art class.

It was a drag for me to have to use watercolor to color drawings next to a troup of seven year olds. Next to me, Aidan had a grin that revealed he was just as much -if not even more- annoyed as me.

"This little kid stuff is stupid," Aidan complained, leaving his brush on the desk. He then turned to me.

"Yeah, it's stupid," I left my brush on the dest too.

We then both turned to Mahomes who, surprisignly, wasn't only coloring enthuastically but actually had a smile on his face as he did so. When he noticed we were staring at him, his expression changed and he hurriedly left his brush on the desk and crossed his arms.

"Yeah," he said.

Aidan smiled, as if that had been a test of loyalty



***


At the end of the morning, when we got to the pool. Aidan, Mahomes and I were still the only ones on the "big boys" lane at the pool. Red and Blue seemed to enjoy not having to teach little children how to swim.

The class was only one hour long but to me, who was desperately waiting to go back in those locker rooms, that one hour felt like an entire week. Days and nights went by in my head while the seconds dragged, one after another as if the universe wanted me to wait as long as possible before letting me see the swimming team naked again.

Obviously, it was just the impatient mind of a child playing tricks. However, I remember how angry I was at the clock on the wall. But, as with anything in life, the clock finally moved.

The class ended, we all swam towards the edge, got out, took our towels, sandals and slowly started walking towards the locker room.

"This is it," my mind thought, barely containing it. "This is it!"

How weird that I was craving to see naked 17 year olds but it was probably just as much curiosity as it was the awakening of my sexual instincts. God, I was truly exited!

"Easy there," a voice in my mind said. "You are starting to show."

And true enough. I looked at my groin discretely and there it was, a little bulge showing on my swimsuit.

"Oh, no," I needed to control myself so I tried to think of something else. I looked at the wall, at the walls but everything in there was somehow swim-realted (duh, it was a swimming pool) so my mind always came back to the swimming team and that only made my bulge larger and larger. "Oh no, no, no...!"

I prayed the universe to make me think of something else to distract me and, funnily enough, the universe listened.

When I entered the locker room my mind was immediately distracted by something else. No, there were no 17 year olds in the locker room that day. Instead of that, the room was full of -of all things- women. Women in their thirties and fourties. I know it sounds weird but bear with me.

"Hey there," one of the women said with a wide smile.

"You are the kids from the summer course, right?" Another one turned to us.

Red and Blue walked past them as if they didn't exist, all the way to their lockers. I, however, was mortified. Several women were looking at me. If I had looked at my sides, I would've found that Aidan and Mahomes were just as mortified as me, speechless.

"What are they doing here?" My mind thought. What were a dozen of middle-aged women doing in the men's locker room?

"Billy?" Mahomes looked at me as if I had the answer.

Well, at least one thing was certain: I no longer had a bulge issue down there. The shock, the shame, the confussion, it had all taken it away. "So no naked swim team today," my mind said sadly and, just as if the universe had heard...

"Guys..." Aidan pointe at Red and Blue with his eyes.

Our swim instructors were, without an ounze of shame, getting rid of their swim suits as they walked towards the showers, letting the steam of water fall over them. Their usual, likable and talkative selves had suddenly vanished.

Meanwhile, standing next to the women, I realized something: being middle-aged women wasn't all they had in common. They all had, between their arms, next to them, or in front of them, a toddler. They were changing their sons into their swim suits. They weren't just women, they were moms! Soccer moms!

Turns out that Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, after our summer course classes, it was practice time for the swimming team. Meanwhile, Wednesdays and Fridays the pool time was instead used to teach toddlers how to swim. So, the soccer moms were there to get their children ready for the pool.

"Don't worry about us," one of the mothers leaned towards us, surely noticing our discomfort. "We will be out of here in a second."

"Yeah," another one followed. "Besides we all have sons. You don't have anything we haven't already seen."

They said that. I promise you they actually said that. I was petrified, Mahomes, next to me, was as well. Only Aidan wasn't, he, whispering in our ear, told us to follow him and, considering the circumstance, we did. Aidan took us not to the showers next to Red and Blue but to the bathroom stalls, we all got into one and then he closed the door.

"What are we doing here?" I whispered, looking at the toilet and the paper roll, it was clear that there wasn't enough space for three kids in one stall.

"We are getting changed here," Aidan replied.

"Why here?" Mohomes tilted his head.

"No," Aidan cut him. "We are not getting changed in the same stall. You go get your own stalls but I wanted to tell you something first... I don't know about you but I don't want to get changed where everyone can see me. I mean, with you is okay guys because we are friends and we are the same age but... what about the moms out there?"

"It is weird," I answered, frankly. It was and, even now as I think about it, it still is. I imagine that those kinds of things don't happen anymore.

"Super weird," Aidan corrected. "And I don't want any old woman who isn't my mother too see me naked."

He actually said that, but, to be honest, we were like 13 so, no, he didn't say it in a gross or suggestive kind of way, I believe he was actually trying to say that no one outside your family or friends should see you naked. No one. And I think he believed that because the next thing he said was:

"Not them and not the swimming team, don't you think?"

Truth be told, having to get naked and shower in a room full of adult ladies was not the most comfortable experience in my life, I agreed. But being able to see the swimming team and let them see me was a whole different experience, even without the sexual part, it felt like a community, a group, as if I was included even though I wasn't part of the swimming team. But I was only a shy and stupid kid so...

"Yeah," I answered, stupidly.

Mahomes nooded.

"We should get changed in the stalls from now on," Aidan suggested.

If I could turn back time I would tell Aidan to do as he pleased but that I would get fucking changed wherever I wanted. Nowadays, I don't care if a whole swimming team sees me naked. I don't even care if a whole troop of soccer moms sees me. Of course, I'm saying all this because back then I didn't have the confidence I have now. Back then, I am sad to say, I just nodded and agreed.

From that day on, no matter if it was a swimming team or a soccer mom day, the three of us would always get changed in the stalls. I still got to see some of the boys in the team naked when I got in but I didn't get to shower with them or to talk with them in any meaningful way.

Every day, Aidan would walk in first, then me and then Mahomes. Aidan would take us to the stalls with our clothes, we would remove our swimsuits in there and we would get changed to, minutes later, go out into the locker rooms fully dressed.

After that had been going on for a while, once, when the swimming team was in the locker room, Red asked us:

"Hey, why do you go there to get changed?" His voice was full of sincere doubt. "We are all boys here, don't worry."

"Yeah, we don't bite," Blue joked.

The truth was that, at the pool Red and Blue were really cool, they joked, played and really taught us how to swim so it was weird that, after all that we just went silent, into the stalls and went out just to say goodbye.

Now, before you ask me... no. I don't know if the mothers ever got excited to see us. Most likely, most of them didn't but, most likely, some of them did. I mean, we were just becoming teenagers so seeing us naked was a rare sight for them and even if most didn't mind or care. I bet at least one of them did.

As to me... yeah, I mean, I'm gay and eveything so I didn't get excited to be seen my middle-aged women but it was a thrilling new experience when you get that confidence of being naked.

Probably, to be honest, if any mom got excited wasn't because she saw three 13 and 12 year olds, it was probably because Red and Blue were there, 17 year olds. Maybe that's why they always got straight to the showers instead of their usual small talk.

Anyway, that whole "changing in the stalls" thing put a big pause on my excitement, it made the course dull again. And yeah, I still had fun with Aidan and Mahomes at the pool and the other classes, but that rush of seeing the swim team was gone.

Or at least that's what I thought.

See, this next little detail is the reason why the memory is so present in my mind, why everything changed during that summer. See, Aidan was the one who lead us into changing in the bathroom stalls, he was the one who was the most concerned with no one seeing us and we followed him.

However, it all changed when one day, after arriving at the fitness center, one of the course leaders told the entire class that our dear classmate Aidan was sick and wouldn't be coming for a few days.

My mind immediately asked itself... without Aidan here, what is going to happen in the locker? If he wasn't there, would I still be changing in the stall or was I going to change with the other guys as I wanted?

I didn't know but my eyes went straight to Mahomes. What was he going to do? Was he going to tell me to go to the stalls like Aidan? Was he going to follow what I did, whatever that was or, the most interesting possibility, was he, like me, going to seize this moment to go and change in front of everyone?
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Was the soccer moms a weird twist? I know, but I swear to you that's what happened! Really! Of course, not every single detail is true but, so far, at least 95% of the details are. Now, the next chapters are going to be... less true? It is still going to be based on fact but I'm going to change a few things to make it a better story, with better flow so the truthfulness will go down from 95% to 80%, still a lot but, for your own enjoyment, I won't tell you which parts are true and which aren't. A little mystery always helps a story. If you want to talk, you know where I am:
billy.alexander.wright@gmail.com

Oh, and don't forget to check my other stories:

* Us, For You
A story about travels, excitement, and finding the courage to ask that one boy out.

* Young Volcanoes
A story about teenage drama, secrets, passion and betrayal.

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