Chris in Highschool - 4. Chapter 4 - Football practice

November, 10th, 2008

Dad and I had an argument… well, actually dad fought me for… nothing. What hurts the most is not a bruise or two, but the humiliation I guess. That associated with the fact that I can’t be angry at him because he has a big burden to carry… he’s not taking the situation very well for some time. I gotta be there for him. I love dad, you know, but I also can’t say that.

I mean, I don’t wanna let him down and it’s kinda obvious he expects me to ‘man up’, like, to get to know his educational ‘duty’ is ‘fulfilled’. Well… it’s not exactly like that, but I wanna make him proud.

So that, as Monday arrived, well, actually, as we had the argument Friday night, Saturday morning dad was his old self. He would exchange a few words because he’s always busy, would leave me more money than necessary at the counter, ask if I need something, if I want to buy something, and would leave. I can’t say I want his time, not his money, because I suspect he buries himself at piles of work not to spend much time at home… maybe we should move to a new house, a fresh start, you know.

No need to mention the weekend was a little gloomy, so I watched all the fashion programs, two drama movies – I cried a lot, but made sure to watch for the door, to check if dad wasn’t coming home to see me do that… but that’s so good to cry sometimes… I mean, watching movies, art in general, I guess it is part of it, right (?), I mean, when you cry over things that are not your real problems, of course. I also watched some cooking things on TV, while I ate chocolate… just got out to buy a few groceries.

It would be nice to have someone to call me, for us to talk on the phone till his mom or dad would take him out of the phone, ‘cause dad would never do that… as he’s never home and, honestly, he wouldn’t mind a thousand dollars telephone bill anyways.

Usually, that’s the problem. I have money to go to the shopping mall, maybe even a small trip, you know, it’s very healthy. One thing is having problem on not having enough money to ‘follow up your mates pattern’ and be left out of the best programs. On the other hand, when you have the money but they don’t, it’s the same, ‘cause there’s no program, no schedule.

I mean, they do have their schedule about doing wrong things and go on suspicious places, where no one sees, to ‘do’ girls, but romance zero plus … dunno, fear, I always have a lame excuse, they don’t push it, so lucky me. So that, decent stuff to do on the weekend, mostly by myself or stay indoors… Well, of course sometimes there are family things, though they’re so rare lately… dad’s side of the family isn’t so ‘interactive’ or maybe that’s him pushing them away as he instinctively do to me… but no, I hug the old man back, I won’t let my only family go away… I won’t.

But, sigh… To have a friend, just to come by, or to go over, to his place, no need for invitations, that would be dreamly… and you know, I’m not even talking about the ‘dirty stuff’… go to his place to play a lot of video games, talk about routine, and have a laugh about this and that… just not to have this void filling common to my Sunday evenings.

I mean, is it only me or have you noticed on Sunday the shopping malls close earlier, everything shuts down earlier… so that, Sunday night I feel it’s that ‘thing’ in the air saying ‘this is the time you spend making love, holding hands, having a simple dinner at home instead of going to the restaurant, because nobody works, because everybody is at their places doing that’… but then, this void is my heart answering I have no one to be on the phone with, to have dinner with, to make love to…

Oh yup, other than that, I was scratching on one or two original songs… of course, those are only papers in the bottom of a drawer as I don’t really play anything, so, they’re not turning into songs in a… future.

***

So I shoved into that guy again, Peter, and he was animatedly talking to this other guy, Nick, I guess, and never saw me… whatever.

I don’t know what is it with people like them. They ‘don’t fit’ into any group. I mean, they’re not nerd, geek, theater ‘alternative people’, don’t play in the cool sports teams… so they don’t fit and, exactly for that reason, they’re not bullied… well, I try ‘de rigueur’, I guess that’s the term, but he didn’t even see me! It was like Nick Carter and Taylor Hanson, highschool version, were talking in front of me, in a world apart of ours… of mine. Er… whatever!

***

So, during football practice, this afternoon… it was hell… and I guess that’s the big definition of it. It was hot… well, in all the senses… again. It was very sunny, the guys were sweaty… and talking about hell it was devilish… it was getting me super horny.

I mean, you may think it’s funny… somehow it feels good… I don’t know if this is part of the psycho feeling, the masochist feeling… I er ‘suffered’ there, but it made me so horny… which is a good feeling.

Trevor was the big hit of the day. Trimmed short dark hair, that beard shadow, he had some dark hair even in his forearms… I was already picturing his bare chest in the showers, he already has hair on his chest, you know and he’s tall… sigh… I was already fantasizing in my mind the water spray falling on his wet black chest hair and on his ample back, making its way down to his butt, so firm, and those big big thighs, who looked trapped in those football white pants under the red protection of his er… ahem… gee I was hard watching them at the bench… where I stay most of the training, actually. Gee, I wish I was a better player, so that, I wouldn’t have time to be thinking of all this… shit… shit, man!

Derek was his usual charming self. He had this bad boy attitude, but I’m sure he would look gorgeous in a suit, for example. You know, if he was in a tuxedo to take a girl to the prom, he would sure convince her parents, with his charm, to take her out of the country!

And Bruce was hot as hell. His blond hair, usually light and silky with the wind movement, was now darker and all wet and he would pass his fingers through it and move it upwards, to wipe the sweat out of his forehead with his hand. His cheeks were red in contrast with his shiny blue eyes under the hot sunlight. His upper uniform was incredibly thigh. I’m almost sure the sleeves could tear apart at any time during the game…

I had to take my helmet off, I was hyperventilating… I… I sneaked away to the bathroom, in the halls, far from all that, but as I kept my eyes open during practice, I would see all that flash and their teen horniness all over me… if I closed my eyes, I’d picture even worse… or better… argh, idk!

So, I washed my face in the sink with cold water, splashed some cold water on the back of my neck and had my wet fingers over my hair, for it to cool off from the sun.

As I looked down, I checked myself in a tight uniform in the mirror and I knew I was bulging big time. Not even that self image helped, just made worse to my horniness. When you’re a teenager… have you ever had the sensation even if the math teacher were talking about logarithms you’d feel horny the same?! Well, it was one of those moments.

I closed myself in a stall and started breathing… but I had to touch myself… down there *blush*

I was repeating to myself, Chris, you’re at school, you do that at home… you did it just yesterday.

But, damn, it was hurting… my… thing *blush*, well, you know, it was spasming and it hurt… and my balls were hurting pressed inside my briefs and my shaft limited by the uniform protection… and tightness…

I had to take it out of my tight pants and I saw its red head already oozing the first drop.

I put one hand on my balls and pressed them. It felt so good, like sweet relief… actually a fraction of relief, as two more drops formed and started to drain the ‘head’ of my shaft.

Gee, I didn’t want to do that, but it was bothering me a lot, making me edgy, uncomfortable, you know it even seemed I was holding myself not to… piss… like that feeling, you know you can postpone, but it’ll only get worse and you’re gonna explode and be ashamed later.

So, I pressed my member, almost instinctively to ‘prevent myself from cumming’, but as I pressed it, the transparent ooze turned into a very first and tiny white drop… I knew I was about to cum… and there was nothing I could do about it.

I just closed my eyes and pictured hunk Bruce taking his uniform off in front of me and as they all do, making sure he flexed his arms, then opened them wider than necessary to show his large chest to me… and I’d gladly obey him.. and lick his right nipple to show my appreciation and…

I came and had to support myself and look down to check if I wasn’t letting it fall all on my sneaker…

I quickly wiped it away, as well as I could, flushed the toilet… I guess just to make the regular noise in case anyone got in… looked at my fingers again to check if there wasn’t anything sticky in it or worse if there was paper glued to any part of my hand… and I slowly got out of the stall. I know it’s there for your ‘needs’… of privacy and I did nothing wrong but still… I felt… guilty somehow – I mean, I was thinking about wrong things, guys, you know, in the wrong place, a somehow ‘public’ place… it was like if someone came in could see which wrong things I was fantasizing like… as I was in a public place anyone could read it on my forehead…

I washed my hands, to make sure they weren’t smelling of… er… cum, I washed my face again and got back to practice as it was practically over.

***

The good thing is I had no problem on showering at the lockers, as even using the thinking sad funeral things and contain my deadly curiosity to check the guys ‘bare package’ I got in a stall, took a quick shower, without showing a hard on and, bag on shoulder, left.

***

As I was passing by the music class room, I saw a few kids rehearsing… that was so fun, the songs were so cool… yeah, I got by the door for like twenty or thirty minutes. It was nice, it seems they were having so much fun and, have I already said the songs were so cool?!

“Hi, do you wanna come in?” the music teacher asked.

“Ah, no… no thanks, Mrs. Jenkins.” I replied.

“I was just watching… it’s… it’s very beautiful.” I said as she continued looking at me.

“Ah… so, do you have practice…” I started.

“It’s rehearsal.” she corrected me.

“… Yeah, rehearsal at this time, every week?” I asked. ‘Chris, music practice, no, what are you doing, why are you asking that?!’ a little voice inside my head was saying.

“No, don’t worry, we never get here this late, it’s for a special event. It starts at three, like the other ‘practices’.” she said with a warm smile. “Very seldom, we have to get here till late when we have to look for a song or even try to achieve an original one as that’s a lot of work… but this is it.” she finished.

‘Great, Chris, exactly the same time of football practice. But why are you even thinking about it… it seems it’s better it’s at the same time, this way there’s not thought about considering it’. I thought to myself. How I even got there… oh yeah, the song of the music in the hall and then I was there watching it right at that spot.

“Chris?” Mrs. Jenkins interjected my zoning out… damn Chris, you were already imagining yourself helping them at that table composing songs… no, Chris, no!

“Yes?” I said.

“You’re welcome whenever you feel like.” Mrs. Jenkins finished with a warm smile. As I looked down she kissed my forehead and put a hand on my left shoulder, caressing it with her thumb for only a second and I was gone.

I was walking fast in the hall as I was thinking.