Thursday, June 1, 2017

There’s This Knothole…



I keep wondering if my little stories trigger any fond recollections in you. Feel free to let me know.
*****
Courtesy of Pixabay
THERE’S THIS KNOTHOLE…

          It all started when Lenny Woodson whispered that there was a tiny knothole in the wall between the boys’ and girls’ locker rooms. All you had to do was remove the wad of tissue someone had stuffed in the hole, and you had a view into the other side. There wasn’t really much I wanted to see in there, but the next time I found myself alone after school in the boys’ room, I looked around until I found the spot exactly where he told me it would be… at the end of the line of sinks. Why hadn’t I noticed it before?
          I pulled out the little wad of paper and bent over like a half-opened jackknife to put my eye to the opening. Not much to see. A not very clear view of basins and mirrors.
          “Getting an eyeful, Wolf?” a deep voice demanded.
          Startled, I straightened up and found my backside pressing into Tommy Marsh’s groin. I stepped forward quickly. Tommy was the school’s quarterback and my wet dream. But I’d get beat up and run outa town if I made my feelings known.
          He put his hands on my shoulders and applied some force. “Go on, take another look. Tell me what you see.”
          As soon as I bent over again, I felt his fly against my butt. I tried to move forward, but it didn’t do any good. He followed me, and I about fainted when I felt him getting an erection.
          “T-Tommy,” I stammered. “I don’t—”
          “Cool it, Wolf. You can either give me what I want, or I’ll tell the principal I caught you peeking into the girl’s toilet.”
          “What… what do you want?” My mouth went dry, but I went wet somewhere else.
          “Stand up.”
          I did... and enjoyed the feel of his muscled body against my back.
          “Go in the shower room, back stall, and strip.”
          “I—”
          “Do it!”
          Without another word, I stumbled to the showers, keeping my back to him as I removed my clothing. When I turned around, he was naked and rampant. Man, was he rampant!
          He stepped into the showers and turned a spigot. I followed like iron filings drawn to a magnet. Man, he was beautiful. Athlete’s build, movie star’s features. I went weak in the knees. After luxuriating in the warmth of the water for a moment, he turned to me.
          “On your knees.”
          As if on order, they gave way and dumped me on the tiles in front of him.
          “Okay, it’s your move,” he said.
          It would likely be the ruination of me in this little town, but so help me, if that’s what Tommy wanted, that’s what I’d give him. I clasped his trim hips and for the next few minutes, I was lost in giving my idol the pleasure he desired.
          Once he pulled away and turned to wash in the cascading water, I figured the recriminations would come. The sneering rejection. The nasty jibes.
          “Hey, man,” he said in his sexy baritone. “That was pretty good.”
          “T-thanks.” I got to my feet and let the water warm me.
          “This is just between us, right? It’ll be our secret, okay?”
          “Yeah. Sure,” I agreed.
          “Great.”
          He took the soap from the dish attached to the wall and started showering. I did the same, feeling a faint glow of confidence usually missing in my makeup. As I snatched glances at my hero, I realized he was lathering up a certain part of his anatomy.
          And I knew this party wasn’t over. Not yet.

*****
What about it? Can you identify with either Wolf or Tommy? Which one more aptly describes your persona? Let me know what you think of the story at  markwildyr@aol.com.

Thanks for being a reader.

Mark

The next blog on the first day of the succeeding month at 6:00 a.m.

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