I looked over at Dave from my vantage point on the bench, my locker door hanging open, my hand poised to close it.
"So, did coach tell you what he'd do?" I asked. Dave stood naked at the opening to the shower room a few feet away from me. I couldn't help but notice his slim form, perfect in my eyes, hairless except for the patch of curly blonde hair above his currently flaccid dick, and his heavy balls. He noticed me looking at his cock, and he grinned, his dick starting to lift as it hardened. The air was heavy with steam, and the funk of bleach and sweaty male scents of many years.
Dave's brows furrowed as he considered my question. "No. He said he was going to think about it. But he did say that he didn't want any disruptive influences on the team, and he couldn't think of anything more disruptive than THAT." Dave Wilson was the star receiver on our high school football team, the Midland, Kansas Devil Dogs, state champs last year and the year before, and on track to be champs this year, too. I was backup QB. My name's Ryan Matthews. Dave had been outed in the school paper, and now the question was, would he be allowed to stay on the team?
Dave was 18, 6'3" and 210 pounds, most of it fast. He was almost a lock to make All-City, perhaps All-State, until this little problem cropped up. Where the rest of us were fighting for a little piece of fame in order to lock down a scholarship somewhere, Dave didn't need it - rich parents. Still, he played as though his whole future depended on his success. I admired that.
I know it sounds unbelievable in this day and age that sexuality would be allowed to ruin somebody's future career, but this was Kansas in the early 21st century, and there wasn't always the open-mindedness you would find today. Dave and I had been doing a little pitch and catch after practice (hold the gay jokes, please), working on his routes and my throws, in case I ever got into a game. So far I hadn't, but you can never tell.
As I'd moved there from Southern Cal two years before, I guess I had a little bit more of the 'big city' viewpoint. I also had a pretty good arm, but our game plan depended more on a running game, and a running quarterback who, when he threw the ball, threw it short distances. Hence, Zack Hazley as the starting QB, and me as the backup.
Dave's gayness hadn't bothered me, as a matter of fact I considered him my best friend. We'd become close over the two years, maybe more so because of the problems he was currently having. And there was some undefined force pushing me close to him that I had been afraid to examine too closely. He'd told me of his relationship, 'fling' really, with Eddy Johnson, the editor of the school paper, and their sub rosa breakup, and apparently the editor hadn't been overly mature about it. Dave headed on into the shower, a distance of about 10 feet, and still in view as I continued to remove my gear.
For some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off him, and more specifically, I couldn't take my eyes off his ass, and then his cock, as he turned around cleaning himself under the hot running water. His ass was completely hairless, round and full, and under the hot water, bright pink. Occasionally, Dave would bend over, and I couldn't avoid the free shots of his small, pink, tight opening between those firm globes. His cock was long, and semi-hard, the water dripping off it making it look as though he was peeing several gallons of clear piss. His cock was circumcised, with a deep red head, and a lighter pink shaft. His balls hung low, and his sac was only lightly haired. Finally he noticed me staring at him. "Um, coming?" he said, doing a matador motion to get me up. Then a look of dawning comprehension lit up his face.
"Oh....." he said slowly. A grin crept over his mouth. His dick suddenly stiffened into a straight shaft, pointing towards the shower head. Dave is less cerebral than I am, but a damned sight closer to knowing his own nature. He slowly hefted his cock, hard now and a full seven inches, but slim. "I could have something here for you, if you're interested...."
My face turned beet red. "Geez, just because you're a pervert, you think everyone is," I said. I stripped off my pants and jock, and damned if my cock wasn't semi-hard. I sort of hid it with my hand so Dave wouldn't see it and give me more grief. Apparently I wasn't too successful, because a dripping Dave, with cock fully rampant, came over to me as I got under the showerhead, hoping the hot water would wash away my own growing erection.
I felt his hand on my ass, lightly cupping the curve of my cheek, almost tickling me. God, I had to admit that it felt good! "Hey, man," I protested, but Dave kept his right hand on my left ass cheek, then put his left hand on my right hip, facing me from just a few inches away. There was no denying what our cocks were doing now, and when Dave's hard seven inches touched my slightly smaller, but thicker, six inches, tickling it, I thought I'd cum from the excitement.
"Don't deny what your body is shouting," he whispered, his mouth approaching mine, his head slanting to bring our lips closer together. I was frozen, partly with fear, more so with excitement. I groaned, just as Dave's lips touched mine, and after a moment's hesitation, I was lost, throwing my arms around him, grinding my cock into his, every forgotten jack off session that featured a man's naked body instead of a woman's, going through my head. And there'd been a few, though I'd never admitted it to myself.
