"Outlined against a blue-grey October sky, the Four Horsemen rode again. In dramatic lore they were known as Famine, Pestilence, Destruction, and Death. These are only aliases. Their real names are ……"
He was a comely boy, beckoning in appearance, alluring at first and second glance; a magnificent male of our age and stature, perhaps an inch or two shorter than me, with not an ounce of fat adorning his slim body; almost pulchritudinous one might say with a face one would think leaning toward, what I thought, handsome, depending on personal choice and definition, but not round, not long, but of fine features, displaying a seeming innocence; dark hair, very light olive skin tone, and hazel eyes, ordinarily bright and shining I would imagine; eyes now full to overflowing with sadness and fright, threatening to cascade down his cheeks, slipping past his nose to his now quivering soft lips and delicate chin, dampening his spirit and our light, locker room banter! I thought he was beautiful in his own special way and I was saddened and angry over what had just happened! All of this tumult brought on by an unkind remark by an unthinking and, at the moment, inconsiderate boy in our physical education class!
He continued to stand there, new gym bag in his hands, clutching it close to his chest, whether from fear of losing it or for security and comfort I knew not, shivering all over; scared shitless, fearful to enter the locker room after the verbal attack on his very self! God, I'd hate to be the new kid in school, especially him! My heart was beginning to be rend asunder watching him, suffering with him in this new and terrifying place!
I'd never been the "new kid" in school; I'd gone to school here at Hamilton Laboratory School since I started kindergarten. Hamilton is a k-12 school located on the campus of Central State University at Jefferson used for the purpose, originally, of preparing young men and women for the teaching profession by giving them a place to "student" teach as a final step before graduation, although CSU-Jefferson offers varied and diverse programs of studies in many other areas, and receiving a teaching license. The eight hundred plus students enrolled in Hamilton always had at least two, sometimes four, student teachers in each grade during the school year in addition to their regular classroom teacher.
Hamilton provided the opportunity, under the guidance and supervision of very experienced and highly educated (most had their PhD's) instructors, for prospective teachers to practice and refine those skills learned in their content majors and education courses through actual classroom experience. It was difficult enough to motivate ordinary students, but the kids in our school were used to student teachers, so it really took skill and insight, along with a ton of patience sometimes, to cause us to react to their stimulation. Many of us were very self-motivated and came from highly educated families. It didn't take us long to sort out who could cut it and who couldn't when it came to classroom performance. I suppose we were helpful in assisting the supervising teacher who would be successful and who wouldn't. Not all student teachers were successful, but that was the beauty of the lab school; it weeded out those not suited or have the talent and skills to be a teacher!
My mother, an elementary special education teacher at Parkside Elementary School, a public school downtown, said it takes a special person to be able to teach. Not only does it involve diagnosing and remediating learning problems young people have, but knowing how to love and understand each child and their special differences so you can better motivate each one to learn at their own special rate and in their own unique way. I really thought she was right, since our own school had such a wide differences of abilities and talents.
Hamilton Lab School students come from a small attendance area, by special arrangement with the City of Jefferson school district, in and around the university. Its student population is a mix of university professor's kids, university staff personnel's kids, married student's children, and anyone else living in the attendance area. Thus, the students were from blue collar families, professional people, day laborers, university families, and everything in between. We had a diverse racial population as well as sexual preferences and identities, religious beliefs, and political affiliations, due to the very nature of the university, and were quite liberal to say the least!
Since many of the students came from homes of university personnel and professional people, such as lawyers, doctors, and others, who preferred to live close to the university for its cultural and educational opportunities, we also had some pretty damned smart kids attending Hamilton. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you view it, I was one of them! The guys I hung around with weren't forty watt light bulbs either; all three of them were fucking bright!
The four of us started kindergarten together and became friends. Scotty McFadden's dad, Dr. Ronald McFadden, is the University's Bursar. In case you're wondering what a "bursar" is, he's kind of like the treasurer; he handles all of the accounting and dollars that go in and go out of the University. Derrick Gray's dad, Dr. Adam Gray, is Dean of Instruction and technically is my dad's boss. They live in a nice house on campus provided by the University. Christopher Fischer's dad, Dr. Thomas Fischer, is the Art Department Head and Professor of Art. My dad, Dr. Carlton Whitfield, is Professor of History and Department Head.
Since I'm Carlton Whitfield, Jr., I'm called "Whit" which sounds great to me! Not that I'm hilariously funny, but it does distinguish me from my father.
All the way through HES (Hamilton Elementary School) and HMS (Hamilton Middle School) we were almost inseparable; well, there were times when we had different classes or family vacations when we weren't together, but otherwise we spent a lot of time together; sleepovers, camping trips, messing around downtown, swimming, and that kind of stuff. My dad often said what one couldn't think of, the other three did! Do you think we were close friends? Couldn't get any closer!
We were entering our first year at HHS (Hamilton High School), irreverently referred to as "Ham Hocks High" by some of our rivals, and we were looking forward to it. It was another adventure in our lives! Not only were we looking forward to the classes (god, we are such nerds) and activities that go with high school, but most of all, cross country track! Ha! You thought we were going to be anti-jock and not one bit interested in athletics! Well, we're not really interested in all athletics, just cross country track; don't really give a shit about anything else. Well, again that's not entirely correct; I enjoy watching swimming and wrestling; especially watching what wobbles around under the singlets or wiggles in the speedos! We don't have football at our school so I can't fantasize what a "tight-end" might be or look like from the back.
The four of us had been on the Middle School Cross Country team and now hoped to be on the High School Freshman Cross Country team. Really, there was no chance we wouldn't be on it since everyone who went out was automatically put on the team, which was great since it gave anyone and everyone a chance to try something out and see if it was a fit for them. We figured we had a chance to do well since the physical education instructor, Dr. Jim Schroeder, was also the cross country coach which, we figured, was the reason the four of us were in the same phys. Ed. class- the last period of the day. Having it the last period meant we didn't have shower, go back to class, come back and put on our running shorts, run, and shower again. It was great. We saw ourselves as a "lean, mean, running machine - the Four Horseman of Hamilton High!"
How did all of this get started? The four of us were having a sleep over at Derrick Gray's house early in September the year we entered fifth grade. It was a warm night, around midnight as I remember, and we'd just finished watching the movie on cable where the girl shouts out "Run Forrest run!" when all of a sudden, Scotty McFadden jumped up, clad only in his white Fruit of the Looms® briefs, and shouts "Run you assholes, run!" and we did!
Up the stairs from the family room, out the back door of the Dean's Residence, and across campus with Scotty leading the way! Derrick, wearing his red knit boxer briefs, Chris in his grey knit ones, and me, the odd one I know, in my bright blue string bikinis, raced across campus, did a once around of the Union (pretty quiet since it was midnight), following Scotty as he led us right into one of the women's residence halls.
How were we to know some of the girls in the dorm walked around dressed only in their panties or bras or even less? Lord almighty, there were screams a plenty, laughter, shouts of joy and hilarity at the sight of four pint-sized, almost naked boys wearing only their underwear, dashing through the dorm, our little front packages barely discernable while our pert, firm little butts jiggled as we ran (mine did at least, I thought)! Up the stairs, through the second floor hall, and down the stairs amid more shouts, whistles, and offers for us to spend the night!
All went well until we exited the residence hall through the front entrance and ran into (literally) a campus cop making his rounds! Scotty was the first to run into the poor guy and knocked him down; Derrick managed to step on his stomach as he ran over him; Chris just jumped over the prone shouting body; and me, I managed to trip on him, but recovered quickly and kept running.
The prone cop shouted out "Somebody stop those boys!" and someone did! A half dozen college boys, on the way back from downtown (where they'd been drinking by the smell of the guy that grabbed me) waylaid us and held us captive until backup was summoned for the poor guy we'd trampled. The young man that held me, clasp me around the waist, and while we waited, slipped a hand down the front of my underwear, whispered "Shhh" in my ear, and began fondling my peanut-sized balls and little sprig of a cock! It wasn't twenty seconds until I was fully hard - all three inches of me! I could feel his stiff man-sized cock, held tight inside his jeans, pressed up against my ass crack, rubbing up and down in his own pleasured excitement, but he had to let me go once the other cops got there - darn it! Another minute or two and I'd have bet he'd had it out, my underwear down, and shoving that thick piece up my poop-chute! I learned several things that night; one, I loved to run; two, having someone play with my cock was great; and three, Thomas Jefferson was wrong, all men are not created equal. I also came to the realization and confirmation of what I thought I already knew, I was gay - liked boys more than girls and I was just fine with that!
Once the campus police found out who we were and where we were staying, they loaded us up in one of the campus squad cars instead of walking us back to the Dean's Residence and turning us over to Derrick's dad. No, they hauled us down to the residence of the Chief of Campus Security, Art Kraft, where we had to wait, clad only in our underwear understand, until our parents were roused to come get us. The poor cop we'd trampled on told Dean Kraft we looked and sounded like the "Four Horseman of the Apocalypse" coming down the sidewalk as we left residence hall. We had to apologize to him, write a letter to the Director of Residence Halls, another to Resident Assistants (one on each floor) of the residence hall, and had to do some community service the next Saturday. We had to go to one of the co-ed dorms and empty garbage cans and pick up trash around the building. No way were we going to be allowed inside unchaperoned so one of the RA's got that job. Good looking dude, at that!
We weren't very big then and we aren't now; maybe five foot four to five foot eight and weighing around one hundred ten to one hundred twenty-five pounds, at the most! Collectively, we all were slim, with taped hips, lanky, and not really muscled. Hey, we were runners and runners are slim, fit, with legs made for running, not for anchoring oneself to a wrestling mat grappling burley, big, and sometimes fat, hulks dressed in singlets. Those guys are tough and have to push and shove, grunt and groan, while all we had to do was dust our asses out of there, as good runners should! Let's face it, we're not really tough and fighters, okay?
I looked back toward the door leading to the locker room and the boy standing there, uncertainty, anxiety, on his face. His name is James Arthur Long; Jamie is what he prefers to be called. Jamie is in my Art class and choir class and now, much to my surprise, in physical education class with me. He generally sits up toward the front in Art class, but since he sings tenor and so do I, he sits three chairs over in choir. I didn't know he'd be in P.E. with me since we hadn't had class the week before when school started because Dr. Schroeder was ill.
When I told my parents, after the first day of school, we had a new kid in school and he was in my Art class and choir and I saw him a couple of times in the lunch room during lunch hour, but he always sat at a table, not by himself, although the way he behaved you would've thought so, with a few students from Dr. Simons High School Special Resource room so I assumed he was a student with special needs. They wanted to know his name and where he came from. The first part I knew, but didn't have a clue concerning the latter. Mom and Dad pondered the name and concluded they really didn't know anyone by the name of "Long" or anyone new who may've moved into the campus neighborhood.
"If he is a boy with some special needs and is in Dr. Simon's classroom, he probably isn't really mentally challenged like some boys and girls, but only have a mild impairment since the students in that particular classroom will be in regular classes as well. Placing those students in the least restrictive environment helps them develop and also lets them use those skills they're best at while developing and improving those they are not particularly proficient in doing. He'll need a friend, as a new boy with certain limitations, Whit, and I hope you will be one of them."
Mom knew I would, but I explained when I tried to talk to Jamie in class, he'd just blush, put his head down, or look the other way. I thought he wanted to say something but just didn't trust me or something!
Mom and Dad both looked at me sort of funny, and finally Mom asked, "You're quite attracted to him, aren't you Whit?"
I know my face turned red because I felt hot all over; she was absolutely right, I was attracted to him and I really didn't know why. Well, I did know why; I thought he was a good looking guy and I liked good looking guys! For some reason, I was drawn toward him like a moth to a flame and I just couldn't resist the pull!
"Just don't get hurt, Whit," she cautioned, "or hurt Jamie Long either, okay?"
I knew exactly what she was saying; as a gay boy, I'd fallen in love a dozen times, never really acting on it however, and I knew well how hurt I felt each time, knowing the other boy really didn't like me like I liked him. The other three Horsemen could give a shit if I was gay so I guess that's all that matters - for now!
Well, I just couldn't let him stand there with everyone staring at him, so I gave a jerk of my head to the other three Horsemen, to follow me. The four of us walked to the door where Jamie stood, bag in hand, and now with tears streaming down his cheeks. Stepping up to him, using one finger, for whatever reason other than compassion for him and perhaps just more than a little attraction, wiped away one tear, then another, and said softly,
"Hi, Jamie; remember me? Whit, from your Art class and choir, remember?"
Jamie nodded ever so slightly, finally looking up at me with his tear-filled eyes!
"Did he," I asked pointing at Freddie Halbeck, a hulk of a kid, but not mean, who had balls bigger than his brain (hold it- he has damned big balls, so maybe he's smarter than I give him credit for), "say something unkind to you?"
Again, Jamie nodded, but this time his chin began quivering, so crushed was he by what was said.
The locker room was quiet, deathly quiet as all of the boys in the room looked in the general direction, without really looking, at the group surrounding Jamie. They were all anticipating what was going to happen next - fight or fright! Who'd be the one who either got stomped or gave it up? Either way, someone would catch hell from Coach Schroeder!
Behind me, Chris Fischer, the smallest of the four of us at five foot five (still growing), stood, naked except for his underwear, hands on his hips, facing Freddie, and demanded,
"What the hell did you say to him, Mr. Shit-for-brains?"
Jamie's mouth popped open, his wide widened in astonishment, almost unbelieving what he'd heard Chris call Freddie!
"I called him a 'tard,'" Freddie responded, "he's in those special classes!"
"And that makes you Albert Einstein, right?" Chris announced, poking Freddie in the stomach with one finger.
Really, Freddie not a bad guy; it's just there are times he lets his ass overload his mouth and says some dumb fucking thing, like today!
Freddy dropped his head sheepishly and quietly answered, "No."
"Well, don't do it again," cautioned Chris, "or I'll have to do something you won't like- at all!"
All eyes and ears in the locker room pivoted forward without doing so, so to speak; each person acting as though they weren't interested, but man, were they ever wondering what the hell Chris could do so terrible to hurt a big guy like Freddie!
Chris thought a moment and finally threatened, "If you don't apologize and promise not to do it again, I'll pull your drawers down, draw a zipper across your ass cheeks, and when I'm done, I'll unzip it, your asshole will fall off, and you'll never be able to shit again; that's what I'll do, so there!"
The tensions was broken! Freddie said he was sorry and promised not to do it again and I thought all would be well, but Jamie was still reluctant to move. I reached out my hand, he quickly grabbed it, when I said, "Come on, Jamie, let's get you ready for class," and began leading him toward the lockers. He quickly stepped behind me, holding tight to my hand while clutching his gym bag with other, and got as far away from Freddie and Chris as he could, looking over his shoulder, eyes wide and wary, when we walked by them trying to keep as much distance between us as possible!
"Don't worry about him," Chris said quickly joining us, "He's really just a big, old teddy bear."
Jamie wasn't so certain! I glanced up and saw Dr. Schroeder watching us from the coach's office. I wondered why he didn't step in and say something, at least give Freddie a detention or extra pushups or something, but he didn't. Our school has a no-tolerance policy when it comes to harassment whether just plain bullying or gays, lesbians, bi's, transsexuals, black, white, Asian, Jewish, Muslin, Hindu, or any kind of prejudicial remarks. We were expected to behave and understand everyone has the right to be free from discrimination and deserve our respect- as it should be!
I led Jamie to the row of lockers where the four of us had our lockers, located a small empty one between mine and Scotty's and told him it would be his.
"The small locker is for storing your gym clothes in so you don't have to carry them all day in school. The large one," I said pointing to it between rows of smaller ones, "is for your school clothes while you're in phys-ed."
Jamie looked at me with a frown and said slowly in a slight southern accent, "My new-daddy-said- I would-like-my-new-school. I-don't-think-I-do!"
"Sure you will," Scotty said brightly. "You've got us now," pointing at Derrick, Chris, and me. He then extended his hand and introduced himself.
Jamie looked at me, then at Scotty, and back at me.
"It's okay, Jamie," I said, "he's a good guy and so are the others, shake their hands."
Jamie did as I asked as Derrick and Chris introduced themselves, but he was more than a little hesitant to shake hands when it came to Chris.
Jamie then introduced himself, saying slowly, with that mild southern accent we soon grew to love and associate with him, "I'm -James- Arthur -Long, -but -everyone -calls me -Jamie."
He looked at me, back at Chris and asked, ever so hesitantly, "That- zipper -thing -was -just -a -joke, right?"
Chris grinned and said "Yeah, Jamie, it was, so don't worry, okay?"
Introductions complete and Jamie seemingly a little more comfortable with my friends, I said, "Let's see what you have in your gym bag, Jamie."
He handed it over, I opened it and started taking things out.
"My new daddy says there's everything in there I need for physical education- that's hard to say- physical education, I mean," he said apologetically.
He was extremely proud his "new daddy" made certain it was all he'd need and indeed, it was. I pulled out tennis shoes for gym class, heavy socks, a big bath towel, wash cloth, body wash, shampoo, school regulation tee-shirt and gym shorts, a combination padlock, and a jock strap - still in the box.
"Ever had P.E. before?" asked Derrick, now only clad in his underwear and standing next to Jamie.
"We-only-had-recess-at-my-other-school," he responded quietly, somewhat sheepishly, head tipped down slightly.
"I think you'll like this better than recess," Derrick said encouragingly.
"Okay, Jamie," I said, "let's get undressed and into our gym clothes!"
He straightened up, eyes wide in astonishment in that "I just got goosed" look; "Here?"
"Yep, everyone has to change from their school clothes and put on gym clothes."
I took off my shirt and gestured for him to take his off. After it was off, we sat on the bench and both of us took off our shoes and socks. I motioned for Jamie to stand.
"Now off comes the pants and underwear," I said and dropped my pants and pulled off my underwear, standing stark naked in front of him. Jamie wavered, so I reached over, unbuckled his belt, unsnapped his jeans front, and pulled down his zipper. He got the message and took off his jeans, but left his underwear on.
I motioned with my finger they should come off as well; with great reluctance and shyly, he slowly pulled down his boxers, stepped out of them, and quickly covered his genitals with his hands and looked around the room at the naked and half-naked boys in there.
"Whit!" he whispered loudly poking me in the shoulder with a free finger, "They can see my" looking down at his crotch, "my 'thingy'!"
Scotty stepped up, looked down, saying, "Not covered up like that we can't, so move your hands."
Amazingly, Jamie moved his hand, as Scotty flipped his own cock up and down a couple of times, saying, "It's called a 'cock,' Jamie and everyone's got one." He looked down at Jamie's and continued, his eyes wide this time, "Well, not quite that size!"
Hanging out of a nice, but sparse, bush of dark hair, over a set of rather generous balls, was an uncut cock about the size of a Milwaukee bratwurst and flaccid; the foreskin covering and forming a little pucker at the end, the head of the one-eyed giant sort of peeking out, and I could see the thick vein running across the top length of his velvety, soft pecker. I don't think I ever heard anyone say, out loud at least, a cock was beautiful, but I thought Jamie's was and his slim body, narrow hips, small, but nicely shaped butt, and face were as well!
"You said a bad word!" Jamie announced to Scotty.
Jamie nodded and bashfully pointed a finger at Chris, "You did too when you said you'd put a zipper on that other boy."
Rather than explain himself, Chris just nodded and waited, along with the rest of us, what Jamie was going to say next.
"My cousins, where I lived before, would get their mouths washed out with soap by my aunt when they used bad words," he announced deliberately and sternly!
The locker room remained as silent as a graveyard at midnight. I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, Coach was listening from his office doorway.
Before anyone could respond, shaking his head, sticking out his tongue, and making a face of distaste to emphasize his point, Jamie said with affirmative knowledge, "I don't like the taste of soap very well!"
Well, we all know now Jamie Long knows the word or words and used them at least once in front of his aunt!
"Okay," I said, fearing what was going to happen next in this getting dressed process and opening the box containing the athletic supporter (size small, hoping his big cock and balls would fit in it), "let's get this on!"
He had no idea how to put it on, even after I put mine on, so I had him put his hands on my shoulders, lift one leg and then the other as I slipped the jock strap up his thin, almost hairless legs accidently brushing the tip of his penis when I pulled up, as I explained where the front and the back were and how the straps fit under his butt cheeks, and pulled his jock strap up in place, adjusting the straps under his small, but delightful, baby-butt smooth ass cheeks. I just couldn't resist running one hand over those sweet globes and giving his balls a bit of cup with my other hand, asking, "It feels okay and fits right?"
Jamie just grinned and nodded, but suddenly realized there was no back on the jock!
"Whit!" he said softly in astounded incredulity, "Everyone can see my butt hole when I wear this!"
He nodded his head up and down rather vigorously, eyes big and wide accentuating his present state of astonishment!
"Turn around and bend over!"
Jamie did as I instructed; I tapped him on his right butt cheek, and said, "Yep, they can! Stand up and turn around and see if you can see mine!"
I bent over, pointing my wrinkled brownish-pink inner-sanctum entrance in his direction, and I heard him giggle before he tapped me on my left butt cheek, and said, "Yep!"
"Well," I announced seriously, "I guess we'll just have to put on these shorts so everyone doesn't spend all class looking at our butt holes, won't we?"
Shorts, socks, and shoes went on without a comment!
I looked at the combination lock and decided I'd save that for another time and put his clothes in my locker and locked it.
The Four Horsemen and Jamie were the last ones on the field, but Coach never said a word about us being late. We lined up for attendance, did some warmup jumping jacks and stretches (it was a hoot watching Jamie try to imitate what we did, be he eventually got the hang of it). He really wasn't uncoordinated, just never had the experiences so it was going to take some time to learn new things.
It was softball today and Coach split us up into two teams. For some reason, he made certain Jamie was on the same team with me and the other three Horsemen. It was evident Jamie played softball before and had some rudimentary understanding of the game, but hadn't developed the skills. The first two times he was up at bat, he would swing; slow, weak grip on the bat, behind the pitch, and strike out! Chris, Derrick, and Scotty took him off to one side, got a baseball bat, and patiently began giving him instruction and letting him take practice swings.
Finally, Scotty leaned close to Jamie and whispered something in his ear; Jamie nodded his head, smiled with a blush, and put his head down. I did notice he had a firmer grip on the bat the next several practice swings, however.
When it was his turn to bat again, Jamie stepped up to the plate, grabbed the bat with both hands gripped tightly, low on the handle, just ahead of the knob, raised it to his shoulder, and when the first pitch was delivered, Scotty shouted, "Do what I told you!" and Jamie, eyes squinted somewhat in concentration, swung the bat, and missed! It didn't seem to bother him since he just gripped harder and smiled.
The next pitch looked good, so Scotty shouted, "Now, shoot your load!" and Jamie grunted, shifted his crotch forward like he was taking a final fuck push, swung the bat, almost with his eyes closed I thought, and connected, sending the ball straight down the first base line where it connected, with a "smacking" sound with Freddie's crotch, where he stood playing first base, dropping him like a rock! The ball rolled fair and, although technically out of play because it hit a player, Coach shouted for Jamie to run to first base. Jamie just stood there, transfixed by poor Freddie clutching his balls and writhing around on the ground in pain.
I quickly grabbed Jamie's hand and pulled him after me shouting, exhorting him to forget Freddie and run to first base with me. "Don't worry about Freddie, he's got balls of steel!"
We ran to first, then to second with Jamie trying to look over his shoulder at Freddie (now starting to get up, not too worse for wear I thought at a quick glance), to third base, and headed for home plate. The entire class, except for Freddie, was cheering Jamie on, urging him to make a home run and touch home plate. Jamie and I crossed home plate, each touching as we did, but Jamie kept on running, this time pulling me with him! He stopped right in front of Freddie.
I could see the tears running down Jamie's face, not from happiness, but from sorrow for hurting someone else. He stood a moment, sniffed his nose, did a quick wipe of his eyes, and said, "I'm sorry for hitting your steel balls! Do they hurt a lot?"
Freddie had a puzzled look on his face but when he saw the anguish of Jamie's face and the grin on mine, he forced a smile, and so, "No, they're just fine! Don't worry about them, Jamie, okay?"
Jamie gave him a big hug and sort of skipped back to where the other three Horsemen were waiting, smiles plastered across their faces! All was well as far as Jamie was concerned!
I took Scotty aside and asked, "What the hell did you say to him?"
Scotty grinned, "I asked him if he knew how to jack off that big cock of his! He nodded, so I told him to hold on to the bat like he did when he wanked himself and what he did when he fired a load. Worked didn't it?"
Coach dismissed us to the locker room to shower and get ready to go home. Jamie received all sorts of kind words from his classmates and the four of us were just as generous. To say he was a happy lad was an understatement! I think it was probably one of the first times other kids his age, other than family, complimented him and accepted him, just the way he acted. He was so happy!
Dirty, sweaty, smelly, the five of us stood in front of our lockers laughing and talking. Finally, I said, "Time to hit the showers, Jamie!"
He looked at me suspiciously, thought a moment, saw the other boys stripping and walking naked toward the shower room, pointed hesitantly with his right index finger, pursed his lips in concentration, frowned, and said, "In there?"
I nodded again, saying, "Yep!"
"With everyone else naked too?"
"Yep!" I responded, stripping my gym clothes off and standing looking at him as naked as the day I was born!
Jamie looked me in the eyes, still questioning, then slowly moved his gaze down toward my crotch, where he stared intently, for more than just a moment I should add, at my smaller cut cock, smiled ever so slightly, sort of licked his lips, then quickly shifted his eyes upward. Taking a deep breath, he stripped to his altogether as well!
I handed him his shampoo, wash cloth, and carrying his body wash, my own wash cloth in one hand, took him by my other hand and led him, followed by Derrick, Scotty, and Chris, to the shower room. Turning on the shower, I stepped under it, nudged Jamie to join me, while the others sort of made a semi-circle around us, somewhat shielding us from the rest of the boys in the shower room, more to relieve Jamie's modesty than anything else. The other shower heads were close enough they could shower as well, but still form a protective shield so to speak.
I told Jamie to turn around and face the wall, bend his head back a little, and I put a dollop of shampoo on it, and began cleansing his beautiful dark hair. As my hands and fingers massaged his scalp, he leaned back against me, almost purring like a kitten with a full tummy he loved it so much! While shampooing his head, I couldn't help but notice, as I looked over his shoulder, the foreskin of his cock began to retract, exposing a nice fat, somewhat lighter head. I could feel my own cock began to swell as I looked at his.
Finished, I said, "Rinse," and while he did, shampooed my own hair. Jamie loved the hot water cascading down on his body. I handed him his body wash and indicated to scrub, "Get all the cracks and crevices too" while I washed as well, using his body wash. Hey, why carry two of anything to the showers, unless it's your balls!
We both finished, rinsed, and I looked over at Derrick, Chris, and Scotty; they were grinning like well fucked pups! Scotty pointed down toward Jamie's crotch. Before I could sneak a look, Jamie turned quickly to me and hissed, "Whit!"
He pointed down at his very stiff seven-plus inch penis (you know as well as I do, a cock always looks bigger on someone else, especially when you're a freshman in high school - but Jamie's was!), and said with some awkwardness, "I'm stiff -see?"
I looked down and sure enough he was! His dick pointed straight out in front of him, foreskin fully retracted, plum-shaped head a little larger than the shaft, bright and shining, piss slit wide and ready to spit, almost like a knight's lance during the days of King Arthur, readying itself for a joust!
He quickly grinned, waggled his fat, thick, long dick at me, looked down at my crotch and said, "You are too!"
Of course he was right, but my dick was not as big as his; mine curved up toward my belly-button, not straight out like Jamie's. The other three Horsemen huddled around us, kind of protecting us from the views of others, as we hustled out to the locker room. Fortunately, most of the others had cleared out and were in the attached classroom waiting for Coach to dismiss them. I could have cared less about anyone seeing my erection; most in the class knew I was gay and prone to tossing a bone once in a while in the shower.
We stopped in front of our lockers; Jamie evidently was not paying attention and didn't stop as quickly, ramming his stiff pecker in my ass crack and be damned, when he did, if it didn't feel like he gave it a couple of extra pushes up and down the valley of delight!
"Oops," I heard him say with a giggle, as he gave one more final push and backed off.
We dried off and in the process our erections settled down, rapidly, I might add considering where we were. Jamie and I slipped on our underwear and while I was putting on my jeans, Jamie, still in his boxers, took off across the locker room. I swiveled quickly around wondering where the hell he was off to and what he was going to do whenever he got to where he was going. He was making a beeline for Freddie Halbeck, just pulling his jeans up to his hips.
Jamie stopped in front of him, looked down at Freddie's crotch, looked up and asked, "Do you really have steel balls like Whit said?"
Freddie, bless his heart, smiled, "No Jamie, he was foolin' with you. I have balls just like yours; see?" and pulled down his jeans and underwear exposing his, what I thought until shower time, was a large set of gonads.
Jamie leaned over, frowning, inspecting them visually, and slowly waggled his head from side to side.
"No," he said almost studiously, "They're littler than mine."
Without so much as a "by your leave," he added, "You're really lucky!"
"Yeah, I know," Freddie said thankfully, "an inch more to the right and I'd be singing soprano."
Again, Jamie shook his head "no."
"If that boy," pointing at Chris, "would have drawn a circle around your tummy button like this," and using a finger, slowly drew a circle around Freddie's navel, causing him to suck in his gut from the touch of a cold finger and where it was touching, "and then" Jamie announced rather loudly, pushing a finger into Freddie's navel smack-dab on his bellybutton, "Your cock would have fallen off!"
Oh my god; the few of us still left in the locker room erupted in a howl of laughter!
When we settled down, Jamie grinned at Freddie and said, "I'm just funnin' with you!"
"I know, Jamie," Freddie answered with a bump to Jamie's shoulder.
Coach, standing in the locker room doorway, evidently brought there by our noise, said, "Hurry up you guys; the bell about to ring."
He turned to the five of us and said, "Cross Country practice starts next week and I expect the Four Horsemen to be there," and almost as an afterthought, added, "Bring Long with you!"
The Literary works of Nicholas Hall are protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America and are the property of the author.
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