This story is based upon my life with many of the core facts being true and many of the details being fictionalized. No character in this story represents any one person or is based on any one experience.
Since we started playing football together in first grade, Jenks Thompson and I had started every play together when I slammed the ball into his open hands pushing his knuckles against my sac. All I knew in those early years was that I wanted to be Jenks best friend. It was to ensure that closeness that I loudly volunteered to play center on the first day of peewee football because we all we all knew Jenks would be my QB.
Thirteen years later, on the first day of college football practice, I stood beside Jenks. He and every other person on the field assumed that we would be a working team during the preseason and most likely for the next four years. Jenks was favored to be the starting QB.
Standing there I realized that I did not want Jenks hands between my legs. So, when the QB coach asked if anyone wanted to start the season hiking for Grinder, the assumed backup QB, I quickly stepped forward to offer my services. How did we get here?
I grew up in a southern coastal state on a farm 5 miles from the crossroads that qualified as our hometown. The intersection had two grocery stores, a bank, a jeweler, a few clothing stores, a dime store, two car dealerships, a hardware store, and a few other other local businesses.
We had one school served by two buildings. I followed three older brothers in school. Of the little over 60 kids in my grade two were first cousins and I could most likely include half of my classmates as blood relatives. As I grew older and started thinking about dating it was important to let my parents make sure that there was enough familial distance. As a Cranston, I had one of the most common last names in the community. There were lots of us and rumors of many that may not have been claimed.
On the topic of girlfriends, I never really sought to have one. I usually asked a girl to a party or on a date only after someone told me of her interest in me. For reasons that would become clear later, my eye and urges always pointed elsewhere.
I was older than most kids in my class so I was 18 before my senior year started. Though I was a big guy and masculine enough I did get teased a bit. My first name Kendall was just too easily switched to Kendoll. There were homophobic implications in the teasing, I always suspected my lack of chasing girls was the real cause for the teasing. I chose to ignore the comments not wanting to draw attention to what might be true.
By the 12th grade I had done a good bit of experimenting as we called it with older boys and had learned how to set up the situations where it could happen. My gaydar or horny teenager detector was pretty strong. Overnights, vacations, and group campouts were all seen as another opportunity to experiment. Read experiment at doing gay things without being gay.
As a senior aide in the library, I found ways to research same sex activity. The books I found were technical and not did not calm my fears. One of my library aid tasks was to preview magazines for articles and ads that were "inappropriate for a highschool library." Inappropriate included any articles with pictures that were too revealing. The Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition stayed in the special reserve room. The dick enlargement ads in the European magazines were to be cut out. I did cut them out and saved them for later private review. A Life magazine featuring the gay pride parade of San Francisco was put on a shelf in the librarian's office along with Catcher in the Rye. As an aide I was allowed to read both and both resulted in sperm being left on the bathroom stall wall.
It was while reviewing the magazines one day that I became fixated on a full-page photo of Richard Thomas whom, on many a Thursday night, I had fantasied over as John-Boy Walton. A recent episode included a male character making a pass at John-Boy. The XXX rated version of that episode played in my head for months. I was at a climactic moment of my fantasy when the librarian tapped my shoulder to ask why I was not responding to her. She wanted me to run an errand but the bulge in my pants and the growing earthquake in my balls needed a moment to settle before I stood.
It was on the first day of practice our senior year that that Jenks and I crossed a line that could not be un-crossed. First week, conference rules required no pads, no hitting, just running through the plays. On that no pad day we wore t-shirts and loose gym shorts. Summer for most of us had come with a bump in testosterone levels. Our bodies grew and matured. We were more muscular from working out as instructed but we also had other changes. We became more masculine. Hair grew in new places, sweat had a stronger scent, and for me my already biggest in class dick and balls almost doubled in size.
Before, I never needed a jock strap as everything was already tight against my body. Sure, I wore a strap when in full pads because that is what you do. That day, with larger and looser equipment that hung extra low in the summer heat, being sans jock strap would be different.
Coached whistled and instructed us to get in formation. As Jenks crouched behind my ass and slid his hands between my generous ass cheeks and forward along my twine area his fingers encountered a barrier. Confused at first his fingers searched for freedom when I felt him tense upon realization that he was scratching against my balls and dick. My first thought was oh shit how am I going to snap the ball and not crush my boys? Then my brain rushed to and froze at, Jenks is touching my balls.
