Kevin sat on the bed next to Richie, obviously in thought as he looked around his room.
"I have an old pair of Nikes around here somewhere that you can wear while yours are drying out."
"Thanks, man, I really appreciate this."
"Hey, no prob, Rich. I mean, if it wasn't for me you wouldn't even be here now," he said as he pulled his socks off and tossed them in the direction of his closet.
Then, as Richie watched, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his Thermo-knits, pulled them off, and threw them on top of his socks. Now clad only in his briefs, he thought again for a second, then jumped up and started to rummage around in his closet.
Had he looked at Richie's face right then, he would have seen a very stunned expression. It wasn't the act of Kevin striping in front of him that was so amazing to Richie, but what was revealed to him as he did so.
He had a beautiful body, and Richie was unable to tear his eyes away from it. He stood almost six feet tall with a somewhat stocky build, and if he had any body fat at all, the percentage had to be in the single digits. His biceps bulged, his chest and pecks were well defined. He had a good six pack above a package that stretched the fabric of his briefs to the limit, and his tight, well-rounded ass cheeks were gorgeous. His thighs were taut, and his calves looked hard enough to drive nails, plainly a result of his skating. The hair on his head was dark blond, cut short on top, and very short on the sides. The sparse trail that led from his navel to the top of his briefs was dark brown, as was the soft coating that adorned his legs. Completing the picture were those killer eyes, so deep and mesmerizing they could take your breath away. Richie's dick was once again beginning to stiffen.
Having found what he was looking for in the closet, Kevin went to his dresser and pulled out a pair of white athletic socks, then stood in front of Richie. With Kevin's brief clad package just a foot away from his face, Richie couldn't help but stare at it.
"Here, try these on," said Kevin.
"Um, oh, yeah, thanks," he said as he tore his gaze away and took the socks and sneakers.
What happened next sent Richie's mind into a tail spin. Without so much as a pause for thought, Kevin pulled off his briefs and tossed them toward the closet. He then paused again, standing naked in front of Richie as if he was trying to make a decision, then moved to his dresser and pulled out a pair of boxers. Casually stepping into them, he looked over at Richie who had managed to avert his gaze just in time.
"In case you're wondering, I normally prefer boxers to briefs unless I'm on the ice. It's a trick I learned from Kyle. Briefs feel better when I'm wearing a cup, and support better if I'm not."
"Makes sense," said Richie, shrugging his shoulders to feign little interest.
In truth, Richie almost lost it. He was mesmerized by the sight of Kevin's soft cut dick as it hung down over his low hanging balls. It looked to be about 5 inches long in its' present state. He had a good growth of hair above it, but his nuts were hairless. Richie's dick was now fully hard, and beginning to cause his balls to hurt again. Although the pain would help to soften his cock, he had to think of something else. He had to suppress his excitement. He didn't want this to be happening to him. Using all of his willpower, he forced these thoughts from his mind as he pulled on the borrowed shoes and socks.
Just as Kevin finished dressing, they heard the front door to the house open, followed immediately by a booming voice.
"Yo, Hatch, where are ya?"
Kevin smiled at Richie then yelled in the direction of the hallway.
"Be right down, Jake."
Kyle Jacobson was Kevin's best friend. They met at age seven when they started playing hockey, and although his first name was Kyle, all of his teammates called him Jake. Kyle played second line 'D' on Kevin's team, and the only thing that kept him from moving up to the first line was a lack of motivation to improve his game.
The two boys each took a final swig of their Pepsis, then headed down the hall. When they reached the top of the stairs, Kyle was there to meet them.
"Rich Andrews, meet Kyle Jacobson... or Jake to those of us who put up with him," joked Kevin.
'Oh my God,' thought Richie.
Although he thought Kevin was hot, this kid belonged on the cover of Teen magazine. He was the same height as Kevin, and had the same hockey player build. His eyes were blue, and his face was flawless, almost feminine like. He had blond hair, lighter and a little longer on top than Kevin's, and it was styled with gel so that it stood straight up except for the front edge which curled down over his forehead. The gel glistened, making the hair look wet, and his smile revealed a set of perfect white teeth.
"Hey, Rich," said Kyle as he reached his hand out.
"Hey, Kyle," he said as he shook his hand, a hand that felt strong, yet soft in Richie's grip.
As the three boys headed back down the stairs, Kevin asked Kyle the obvious.
"Was the front door unlocked?"
"Yeah, course, man, it's always unlocked."
"Shit. Well, don't let my mom know that, she'd ground me for a week if she knew I forgot to lock it."
"So where did you say you wanted me to take you guys? The Emergency Room?"
"Yeah," said Kevin, "It's a long story, but I kinda hit Rich in the balls by accident and we want to get him checked out."
Kyle stopped dead at the front door.
"Now let me make sure I understand this right. You, accidentally, hit Rich here, in the balls... and now you want to go to the Emergency Room, right?"
"That's right, Sherlock, now let's go."
Obviously not satisfied, Kyle pushed for more information as they left the house.
"So what did you hit him with, a hammer or somethin?"
"No, dipstick, I tagged him with a slap shot."
This caused Kyle to stop again, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open.
"Come on, Jake, lets go, man." said Kevin as he pushed Kyle, who was in a zombie like trance, toward the car.
When Richie saw the car, it was his turn to go into shock. It was a brand new black Pontiac Grand Prix coup, with dark gray, all leather interior. It also had the turbo package and an eight speaker stereo system with an in-dash CD player.
"Whoa, is this your car, Kyle?" asked Richie.
Since Kyle still looked to be in a trance, Kevin answered for him.
"Yeah, it's his all right. Jump in up front Rich, I'll get in the back."
Once they were all in the car and headed out of the driveway, Kyle managed to find his voice.
"Which Hospital, Hatch? Mercy is probably the closest."
"Yeah, Mercy's good. Go for it." Kevin said from the back seat.
After a few minutes of driving in silence, Kyle finally turned to Richie, a trace of bewilderment on his face.
"So, you mean to say that you were tagged in the nads with a Kevin Hatcher slap shot, and there's enough of them left to take to the Hospital?"
"Shut the fuck up, Jacobson," came Kevin's stern voice.
He didn't want Richie to start worrying again. Kyle had a lousy bedside manner, sometimes giving new meaning to the word 'insensitive'.
"It's all right, Kevin, I don't mind," said Richie over his shoulder. Then turning to Kyle he said, "Yeah, he popped me good, too, right square in the balls."
Looking straight ahead again, Kyle drew in a breath through clenched teeth.
"Man, Rich, did you know that Kevin Hatcher has the fastest, meanest, most deadly accurate slap shot in the entire... "
"Jake!" Kevin shouted, cutting him off.
"Well you do, Hatch. I mean, I was just telling him, ya know? I mean, I'm sorry, Rich, I didn't mean to, well, you know... "
"Hey, Kyle, it's OK, man, don't worry about it. No harm, no foul."
Kyle turned to Richie, and as their eyes met, they smiled at each other.
Traffic was light at this time of night, so the drive to Mercy Hospital was short and uneventful. Driving up to the entrance of the Emergency Room, Kyle stopped to let the other two out then drove off to park the car.
Once they passed through the doors of the unusually quiet Emergency Room, they walked directly up to the admissions desk where a portly woman in a nurse's uniform asked if she could help them. After explaining their situation, the nurse asked where Richie's parents were. She went on to tell him that she would need the signature of a parent or guardian on a release form before he could be treated. Richie looked at the clock on the wall. It read 12:15 which meant that his parents would not be home yet. Before they could contemplate their next move, a voice caught their attention.
"Richie? Richie Andrews?"
Turning their attention toward the voice, Richie spoke.
"Oh, hey, Mrs. L. I didn't know you worked here."
"Only for the last three years, silly. What brings you down here?"
"Well, um, I had a little accident. I kinda got hit pretty hard in groin area, and I thought I should get it checked out."
This nurse was his best friend's mom, and he was more than a little embarrassed explaining his injury to her.
"The admissions nurse said I needed one of my parents to sign a release form, but they're not home from the theater yet."
Alice Lindstrom had known Richie and his family since he and her son had become friends ten years ago. She had a special place in her heart for him, and would do anything she could to help him.
"Now don't you worry, Richie. I'll talk to her and get the paperwork going then I'll talk to the doctor on duty. He's not very busy tonight, so he should be able to get to you right away. As soon as he's done, I'll try to get a hold of your mother."
"Thanks, Mrs. L." Then, remembering his manners he said, "Oh, I'm sorry. Mrs. Lindstrom, this is Kevin. He helped me get here tonight."
"Nice to meet you, Kevin. Now you boys take a seat and let me get to work."
Just as they sat down, Kyle joined them, and they filled him in on the plan.
"So, who's the nice nurse, Rich?" asked Kevin.
"That's my best bud's mom. I've known her since I was four, so she's sorta like a second mom to me, I guess."
Less than five minutes had passed before another nurse walked up to them and motioned Richie to follow her. As he stood, he looked at Kevin, his face showing a trace of the fear he'd shown earlier.
"Go on, dude. We'll go find something to eat, then wait for you here, OK?"
"Sure, thanks, guys."
He then followed the nurse into one of the examination rooms where she had him sit on the end of the paper draped table. After she took his temperature, checked his pulse and blood pressure, she said the doctor would be right in then left the room.
Sitting there alone, Richie's thoughts poured back into his head, the same thoughts that had plagued him for so long now. Why was he attracted to boys? In his mind, he replayed the events of last Friday's sleepover with Lindy.
Lindy's real name was Kenneth Lindstrom. His family called him Kenny and he hated it, much like Richie hated to be called Richie. Knowing this, Richie started calling him Lindy in Kindergarten, and that's who he became to all of his friends and classmates. The two boys were very much alike physically, 5'8" tall, 146 lbs., with swimmers builds. Richie's hair was black and he wore it in a regular cut, blocked in the back and on the sides, where as Lindy's was brown, and cut very short during swimming season. He knew he would let it grow out next summer, but he hadn't decided how he would wear it yet. Both boys had brown eyes, and though neither had exceptional features, the adults they knew said they were cute.
They met each other when they were four years old and their parents had enrolled them in the same beginner's swimming class. They and their parents quickly became friends, and the rest is history.
It wasn't unusual for Lindy to stay at Richie's house on a Friday night since they had stayed at each other's house many times over the years for sleepovers. They always had a blast during these stays, playing video games, staying up late watching rented movies on TV, normal boy stuff. Even after they went to bed they would stay awake to talk, wrestle, or just goof around until the wee hours of the morning. It usually took a parent, knocking on their door, to get them to settle down and go to sleep.
Now, as 14 year old teenagers, their late night conversations would usually turn to sex. They talked about the girls at their school, who was hot and who wasn't, and what they would like to do with them if they ever got the chance. One night they discussed which of the older boys that shared their locker room had the biggest dick. This led them to compare their own cut dicks, carefully measuring them. Richie's was 5" inches hard, where Lindy's was 5 �" and a little thicker, two facts that Lindy never let Richie forget.
Lindy was the first to learn about masturbation. Although they had heard some of the older boys at school talk about it, they didn't understand what the big deal was. Until two summers ago, that is, when Lindy's older cousin showed him how to do it. Naturally, Lindy quickly passed this discovery on to Richie. Since then they've had frequent jack-off sessions together, using the now badly worn Penthouse magazine to fuel their excitement. They never touched each other during these times, but just got off sharing the pictures. Last Friday, everything changed.
Richie had just finished loading the dishwasher when he heard the familiar single ring of the back door bell. 'Yes,' he thought as he glanced at the kitchen clock, '7 o'clock, right on time.' He smiled as he looked up to see his friend step into the back hall and close the door behind him before kicking off his snow covered Nikes. It wasn't unusual for either Lindy or Richie to enter each other's house as if it were their own, the ringing of the doorbell was just a courtesy. One look at Lindy's face told Richie that he was unusually excited about something.
"Hey, Lindy, what up?"
"Hey, Rich, you are not gonna believe what I brought for us to look at tonight," he said as a huge smile stretched across his face.
"So what d'ya got? Let me see it."
"Not here, dummy," said Lindy, his voiced hushed, "Let's go up to your room."
"OK, but nobody else is home. The rents are at some theater thing, and Carl is out with his girlfriend."
"Really?" asked Lindy.
"Yep, we have the whole house to ourselves."
"Cool, lets go."
Without further comment, they launched themselves up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, and raced into Richie's bedroom. Even before the door was closed, Lindy had the hardcore porn magazine out of his bag and lying on the bed. Richie froze as he stared at the cover, not breathing, his mouth hanging open in awe.
Shucking off his jacket and tossing it to the floor, Lindy laughed when he noticed the look on his friend's face.
"Hey, man, you trying to catch flies or somethin? Come on, sit down here and let's look at this puppy."
Regaining his mobility, Richie sat on the edge of the large double bed next to Lindy, his eyes never leaving the magazine. He just couldn't believe what he was seeing. This made his stolen Penthouse look like Mother Goose.
Neither boy spoke as Lindy slowly began to turn the pages, each one filled with pictures of men and women performing all sorts of sexual acts. There were even some with two women and one guy, or two guys and one woman. The scenes pictured ran the gambit from fucking, to eating pussy, to sucking cock. The boys' minds were on overload, their cocks rock hard. As soon as they finished looking at every page from front to back, they reversed the process, and went from back to front. Neither boy spoke a word, they just stared at the pictures, moving only to adjust their cocks to get more comfortable.
During the third pass through, Richie found himself looking more and more at the size of the dicks he saw. He got especially excited when he saw the ones that involved a blow job. Finally, Lindy broke the silence.
"Pretty good jack off material, huh, Rich?"
"No shit, man. Where the hell did you get this?"
"I found it in the dumpster behind the 7-Eleven. Why anybody would throw it away beats me, but their loss is our gain."
Although Richie's growing attraction to boys bothered him all the time, tonight he refused to dwell on it. There was a question he had for Lindy, one he'd had on his mind for a year and a half now, but was always too afraid to ask. As they sat there, looking at the pictures, he decided there would never be a better time. After all, they were best buds, right? They shared everything with each other, right? So what the hell, he asked the question.
"Do you remember, summer before last, when your cousin showed you how to jack off?"
"Well, how did he do it? I mean what did he do? To show you, I mean." the words came out soft and quiet.
Lindy felt flushed, and his face turned red as his mind fumbled for an answer.
"Um, well, he just showed me is all."
"You mean like you showed me? You mean he like just beat off in front of you?"
"Sort of, I guess. Why? What's it matter, man?"
Richie knew there was more to the story so he persisted.
"I don't know. I just wanted to know, is all. Why won't you tell me? I thought we were best friends and told each other everything."
'Oh shit,' thought Richie, he had just played the 'friends' card. It was kind of a cheap shot, one that they had both used, but one that was usually out of bounds since it was intended force an answer even though the other would rather not talk about it. Feeling guilty, Richie was about to tell him to forget it when Lindy spoke up.
"That's why I never told you about it, Rich. Because we're friends, best friends, and I didn't want to risk fucking that up, ya know? I really wanted to tell you about it, but I thought you might hate me or something. I mean, I don't think it's any big deal, but I wasn't sure how you would react. I just didn't want to take the chance."
There was a silence in the room now, a silence you could almost feel. Then Richie spoke again.
"You're right, Lindy, we are friends, best friends. But that's why we can tell each other anything. That's what makes us best friends. Didn't I tell you about the time I watched Carl jack off through the crack in his bedroom door that time? I thought you might think I was a perv, but I told you anyway, right?"
Another silence, then Richie continued.
"But there's another thing about being best friends, too. Best friends don't make each other tell about something that they don't want to talk about. It's like, you and me, we can tell each other anything, but we can also not tell each other anything. Know what I mean? I shouldn't of bugged you to tell me, and I'm sorry, so let's just forget about it."
Lindy thought this over before he answered.
"OK, Rich, I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone about it, ever. Promise?"
"Well, when we were staying at their house for a week that summer, Ronnie and I shared his bed. Just like you and I do. No big deal, right? Well, the last night we were there, we were lying in bed, and he asked me if I jacked off. I told him that I'd heard about it but didn't know what it was really all about. Then he asked me if I wanted him to show me. 'Sure,' I said. I mean, you know me, always ready to learn something new, right? Anyway, he had us both strip naked and lie down on his bed. I was a little nervous, but I was in to deep to chicken out."
By now, the porno magazine was forgotten.
"Then he told me to do what he did, and he started rubbing his dick up and down. It was like, right away his dick got hard. I'll tell you what, Rich, he has a monster dick, and he's not cut either. Ya know what that means?"
"Yeah, it means he wasn't circumcised like me and you were, right?"
"Mark Jefferson, a kid in my PE class is like that," said Richie.
"Well, Ronnie's is so big that I just stared at it while he pumped his hand up and down. Pretty soon he said, 'Come on dude, start jackin it,' so I started to do mine the same way. Well, it felt OK, but I still didn't see what the big deal was. Then Ronnie looked over and said, 'No, no, you're not doing it right.'"
Lindy paused at this, and when he continued, his voice was softer and more serious.
"Then he reached over and grabbed my dick in his fist. I mean, I couldn't believe it. Just like that man, he grabbed my dick. I didn't know what to do. I was like paralyzed or something, ya know? So I didn't do anything, I just lay there and watched as he started to jack me off. I hate to admit it, but it felt good. I mean, it felt really good. Much better than when I do it myself."
Richie's dick started to twitch as he pictured the scene in his mind.
"Well, I guess I was like committed now, ya know. So I just lay there and let it happen. Then the feelings started, and I didn't know what was happening. First time, ya know? All I knew was that it felt good and I didn't want him to stop. His grip on my dick was different somehow. Hell, I don't know, it just felt so good, and the feelings were getting stronger by the second. It's kinda funny cause Ronnie seemed to know what was happening to me cause he speeded up his hand. Then it happened... the most awesome thing in the world. POW! Now you and I both know what it feels like when we shoot our wad, right? Well take that feeling, and multiply it by a 100, and you might come close to what this felt like."
Richie's rock hard dick was straining against the confines of his Levi's, seeping pre-cum into his boxers.
"Whoa, man. Did you shoot?"
"Yeah, I did, but it wasn't a lot. Just a couple of spurts on my belly."
After a short pause, he continued with sort of a chuckle.
"Ronnie must have thought it was cool that I shot cause he smeared it around with the head of my dick as he tried to milk some more out of it. I had to make him stop though, because I was real sensitive around the head, ya know? Well, I just lay there for a few minutes, waiting for my body to come back to the real world when I realized Ronnie hadn't let go of me yet. I mean, he wasn't jacking me anymore or anything, just holding my dick."
Lindy's voice trailed off, and he looked at Richie for the first time since he had begun his story. Richie could see a hint uncertainty in Lindy's face, and he knew his friend felt uncomfortable. After only a brief moment, Lindy looked away again, this time his gaze went to the floor at his feet.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, bro. Why don't we just forget it, man?"
"No, Rich, it's all right. I want to tell you. I guess I've always wanted to tell you, but I just never had the guts."
He took a deep breath before he continued, his eyes still looking at the floor.
"I had these really fucked up feelings right then. I guess I felt uncomfortable, while at the same time I felt wonderful, relaxed, and happy. Knowing I couldn't sort it all out right then, I said 'Thanks Ronnie, that was great,' or some shit like that, and started to get up to get my underwear back on. That's when he dropped the bomb on me. He let go of my dick, laid back down and said, 'Good, your turn to do me now.'"
Richie let out an audible gasp at this, and Lindy responded.
"Yeah, just as casual as can be, he said that. I just froze. I can't remember how many thoughts ran through my mind right then but one, for sure, was to get up and get out of there. Well, I didn't. Get out, that is. Instead, I looked at Ronnie as he lay there, slowly stroking his monster dick, and he looked so, I don't know, innocent maybe. I don't think that's the right word for it, but he didn't look at all uncomfortable, just like he was expecting me to return the favor. Like it was a natural thing for us to be doing this stuff."
Richie could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he listened.
"I don't know how long I just sat there, but it couldn't have been too long cause Ronnie didn't get impatient or anything. I stared at his big dick and decided that if I was going to do this, I needed some reassurance that no one would find out. I mean, I'm not gay, and I didn't want anyone thinking I was, not even Ronnie. So I made him promise not to tell a sole about it. He just shrugged it off and said it was no problem."
At this, Lindy raised his head and looked into Richie's eyes with that 'I'm about to bare my sole to you.' expression. Richie had seen that look only once before in all the time that he'd known Lindy, and he knew it meant that what he was about to say was private, and never to be revealed to anyone else.
"As I looked at his dick I thought, 'OK, I'm going to do this and get it over with, and then life will go on.' But you know what, Rich? No matter what I told myself, I knew I wanted to do it. Yeah, that's right, man. I wanted to grab his dick and jack him off. I had to know what it was like. I had to know if I liked it or not. I just had to find out for myself, ya know?"
Richie's dick was painfully hard now, soaking the front of his boxers with pre-cum as Lindy went on.
"Ya know, Rich, I've never touched anyone else's dick before, but I was actually excited about doing this. It's all so weird because I wasn't hard or anything, so I guess I wasn't that kind of excited. Then again, maybe I was, but I wasn't hard because I'd just come. All I knew was that I wanted to do it. Talk about being nervous. I was shaking like a leaf when I reached for his dick, and like I said before, it was huge. God, it had to be at least 7 inches long, and so thick I couldn't make my fingers touch when I made a fist around it."
"No shit? So, what did it feel like?"
"Big, hard, and hot. Thinking back, I'm actually a little jealous of his foreskin cause it felt so soft and just slid up and down so easy. I was sort of mesmerized by it as I stroked him. I must have done it right, too, cause in no time he blew his load, and what a load it was. He spased all over the bed, moaning so loud I was sure we'd get busted. The first blast went all the way to his chin, and the rest went all over his chest and stomach... except for the gallon or so that landed on my arm, that is. Now I could have let go of his dick right then of course, but I was so fascinated by that monster. So I did to him what he did to me and milked it for a while. As soon as he came back down he said, 'Thank you Kenny. Thank you. That was great.' I guess, in a way, I was sort of proud of myself when he said that. Five minutes later we were back in our underwear saying goodnight. End of story."
Richie was awed by what his friend had told him as he flopped back on the bed, his arms stretched out above his head.
Then Lindy spoke again.
"I guess what we did was gay, ya know, but I'm sure I'm not gay. I mean, I haven't ever thought about doing it again or anything, but it sure as hell felt good at the time."
Richie just lay there, his mind doing cartwheels, his dick straining against his pre-cum stained boxers. After a minute, Lindy spoke again.
"Rich? Are we OK still? I mean, you don't hate me or anything, do you?"
"Hate you? Hell no, I don't hate you. It's just... nah, I don't know."
"What, man? Tell me."
Richie thought carefully for a moment before he spoke.
"So, like what did you decide. I mean, you've had a year and a half to think about what you did, right?"
"Yeah, but it really only took me a couple of weeks. I figured it was just sort of an experiment, ya know. A one time shot to try something different, so it hasn't really bothered me at all. Besides, I learned how to jack-off from it, so what's to complain about?"
"Yeah, I guess," answered Richie.
"OK, Rich, you've got somethin else on your mind, so spill it."
Richie thought again, choosing his words carefully before he answered.
"Well, all the time you were telling me that story, I was thinking how much I wished it was me you did it with instead of Ronnie. I mean, like isn't that something that best friends would do for each other? It's no big thing or anything, I guess. I just wish you had told me the whole story when you showed me how to do it, is all."
'Shit,' thought Richie, 'did I just play the 'friends' card again? I guess I did. Well, maybe I did, but it's not as if it wasn't true. I mean, like who besides your best friend would even consider doing something like that. Other than someone like Ronnie I guess. But that was a chance encounter, not something you planned for ahead of time.' So he decided that even if it was the 'friends' card, it was justified.
"So what are you sayin, Rich. Do you want us to do each other? Is that it?"
"Yeah, Lindy, I really do. But I understand how you feel about it, so why don't we just beat ourselves off and forget the other stuff."
Silence filled the room again as both boys wrestled with their thoughts. Then Lindy looked down at Richie, smiling his devilish grin.
"I have a better idea. Why don't we just get naked and jack each other til our balls are dry?"
Arms and legs were a blur as shirts, pants, and boxers flew in every direction. Richie couldn't believe this was actually going to happen. He was about to feel his best friend's dick, to jack him off, and Lindy was going to do the same to him. He almost came just thinking about it.
"So, Mr. Andrews? Mr. Richard Andrews? What seems to be the problem, young man?"
The voice that jerked Richie back from his thoughts came from a tall, middle-aged man, with a stethoscope hanging around his neck, wearing a name tag that read Dr. Mark Roswell.
As the doctor perused the document on his clipboard, Richie became aware that the thoughts of his exploits with Lindy had caused his dick to rise. His embarrassment and fear at the thought of the doctor seeing him like that, quickly deflated his member in record time. His face flushed and feeling hot, he responded to the doctor's question in a sort of detached voice.
"My friend accidentally hit me in the groin area with a hockey puck."
Looking over the top of his clipboard, the doctor's face showed little reaction.
"Well then, why don't you hop down off the table and let me have a look."
Richie did as he was told while the doctor pulled up a small stool and sat down to face him. Needing no further direction, Richie unbuttoned his jeans, pulled down the zipper, and in one fluid motion, bent over and pulled his jeans and boxers to his knees. Standing up again, feeling vulnerable and a little afraid, he raised the bottom of his T shirt up to his chest, exposing himself to the doctors view.
As long as Doctor Roswell had been practicing medicine, he still felt enormous empathy pangs when seeing the trauma that regularly passed through the Emergency Room. When he saw the condition of Richie's groin, he hoped his face wouldn't betray what his heart felt.
As he closely examined the massive bruise, however, he began to realize that it looked far worse that it actually was. He very gently lifted Richie's penis to enable him to see the condition of his scrotum. Then, while still holding the penis with his left hand, he very gently squeezed each of his testicles, the act making Richie flinch slightly. He then let go of his penis and softly pressed his fingertips on the badly discolored areas of his thighs and pubic mound. As quickly as it had started, the examination was over as the doctor stood and told Richie to get dressed.
After making some notes on his clipboard, he related his findings to a very anxious patient.
"Well, Richard, I think you'll live. As a matter of fact, your bruises look far worse than they are. Your testicles are swollen and there is, of course, a massive bruise of the surrounding area, but it should begin to clear up in a couple of days. I don't think there is going to be any permanent damage, and you should recover completely."
Richie was so relieved at this news that he showed it by audibly exhaling the breath he'd held in his lungs ever since he'd dropped his pants. This wasn't lost on the doctor, either, as he grinned at the boy, further bolstering his relief.
After making additional notes on his paperwork, the doctor spoke again.
"I'm going to give you some pills for the pain, but you don't have to take them unless it gets too uncomfortable for you. Also, I want you to see your family doctor in two weeks for a blood and urine test. By then, the swelling will be down, so he can make sure that all of your parts are still functioning properly."
Finally, looking at Richie, he saw the mask of concern cloud his face again. Putting a hand on his shoulder, he gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"Don't worry, son, it's just a precaution. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."
Richie began to breathe normally again.
"Any questions?" asked the doctor.
Richie thought for a moment before responding.
"I guess I'm a little worried about the pills you want to give me. I'm on the swim team, and we have a big Meet tomorrow. Won't the drugs mess me up for that?"
"No, they won't, because you're not going to be participating in any Meets or practice for at least a few days. You've taken a bad hit in a very sensitive part of your body, Richard. Although you'll recover completely with time, any strenuous activity during the next four or five days will slow the healing process. Besides, it'll be just too painful for you."
Although Richie was disappointed, the ache in his groin validated the doctor's statement, so he shrugged his shoulders and accepted his fate.
"Unless you have any more questions, why don't you join your friends, and I'll send a nurse out with the prescription?"
Heading back toward the waiting area, Richie looked around for Kevin and Kyle. They weren't sitting in the chairs he had left them in, so he began to scan the entire reception area. As he got closer to the admissions counter, he felt a twinge of abandonment, wondering for a brief moment if his friends had left him. Finally, he spotted them, standing by the admissions desk. They were surrounded by a group of people, all of whom were listening intently while Kevin spoke. One by one he began to recognize the people in the group, and a smile grew across his face. Two of the people were his parents, looking concerned as only parents can. Standing next to them was Lindy's Mom, nodding in agreement as Kevin spoke. Next to her stood Lindy. This sight filled him with new vigor, and his smile grew into a full grin.
With their attention fully focused on what Kevin was saying, no one noticed Richie as he approached. Thinking he would just sneak up behind them, and see how long it would take before anyone noticed, he quietly moved closer to the group. When he was just four feet away, however, his plan was shot down when Lindy's head snapped around in his direction. A huge grin suddenly appeared on Lindy's face as he recognized his best friend.
"Yo, Rich, how they hangin, bro?" he nearly shouted.
"Kenneth Lindstrom!" his mother admonished, as she cuffed him good on the back of his head. "You watch your mouth, young man."
Everyone else seemed to smile at the joke, though... everyone but Richie's mom, that is. She was in her concerned mother mode, and failed to see the humor.
Even before Richie could speak, his mother had him wrapped tightly in her arms, her tears running down her cheeks. Although Richie was embarrassed by this public display of affection, he was warmed by the love he felt as he hugged her in return. Waiting patiently for his mother to regain her composure, he looked over her shoulder toward his dad and noticed his eyes were misty as well. This made him feel more loved than he could remember, and he held his mom even closer.
All too soon the moment ended as Richie's mom slipped into her 'tell me everything' mode. As she dried her eyes with a handkerchief, the questions came in one continuous flow, strung together like beads on a necklace.
"What did the doctor say? Are you going to be all right? Are you in any pain? Are you hungry?"
"Whoa, Mom, relax," said Richie, trying to calm her down. "I'm fine, really."
Learning that Kevin had filled them all in on what happened earlier, he explained in detail what the doctor had told him. Everyone was greatly relieved to hear that he would recover, especially Kevin, and it showed in his face.
As soon as Richie finished his explanation, and made sure all of the introductions had been properly made among the group, he suddenly felt very tired. The clock on the wall read 1:30 a.m. This had been a very long day.
Lindy's mom went back to work while the rest of the group milled about chatting while they waited for Richie's prescription. Stepping over to Richie, his dad put a hand on his shoulder.
"I guess you can sleep in tomorrow since you won't be going to the meet, son."
"Well, Dad, I really think I should be there with my teammates even though I can't be in it. Besides, I owe Coach Davies an explanation."
"Shoot, Richie," said Lindy, "I'll talk to Coach for ya. He'll understand."
"Thanks, man, but I really want to tell him myself. Besides, who's gonna fire you up enough to put in a decent time if I'm not there to cheer you on?"
Both boys smiled at this then went through the 'hand slap, fist tap' handshake that has been the affirmation of their friendship for so many years.
"I have an idea." It was Kyle coming up to them, with Kevin close behind. "Why don't me and Kevin pick you guys up at Richie's house in the morning and we'll all go over. That way we can back you up when you talk to your coach."
"Don't you guys have practice, or a game or something?" asked Richie.
"Not until tomorrow afternoon."
"OK, sure," said Richie, "It'll be fun. We can harass the guppy here so he'll finally contribute to the team effort."
This caused all four boys to laugh, and Lindy to punch Richie, not so lightly, in the shoulder.
"I don't know, Richie," said his mom. "The doctor said you have to take it easy. Maybe you should just stay home tomorrow."
"Aw, Mom, I'll be OK. Please?"
He knew he had used just the right amount of whine in his voice to make his mother relent.
"Well, OK... but if you get tired, or the pain bothers you, you come straight home. Understand?"
"Yes, Mom. I will, I promise."
Mothers can be so protective.
The boys spent the next few minutes working out the details for the next morning, including directions to Richie's house, and a pick up time of 7:30. Once everything was settled, Kevin and Kyle said their good-byes and left for home. Less than a minute later, Mrs. Lindstrom came up to Richie and handed him a plastic bottle of pain pills which he immediately gave to his mother for safekeeping. Since there was nothing else to keep them at the hospital, Lindy kissed his mom on the cheek, said goodbye, then the four of them headed for the parking lot.
As they moved out toward where the car was parked, the two boys dropped back a few paces behind Richie's parents to talk. Richie was the first to speak.
"So, how did you find out I was here?"
"My Mom called me right after she got a hold of your folks. She must have figured I'd want to come down, so she arranged for your mom and dad to pick me up. As soon as I hung up the phone they were in the driveway waiting for me."
"Cool. Your Mom was really nice to us, and helped me a lot."
"Yeah? I guess we both got some pretty cool parents, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess we do, Lindy."
"Oh, and Coach called my house, too."
"Yeah? What did he say? Was he pissed?"
"Nah, he didn't seem pissed or anything. He just seemed worried when you didn't show up. He said he called your house a couple of times, but there wasn't any answer."
"Yeah, the rents were doing the theater and Carl was probably out doing his girlfriend," replied Richie with a smile.
When the boys reached the car, Mr. Andrews was still searching for his keys. The sky overhead was clear, and the gentle December breeze that blew through the parking lot caused the boys to shiver and scrunch their necks down into their collars for added warmth. The snow under their feet crunched when they walked, a familiar sound that indicated a temperature well below the freezing point.
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