A Gym Shorts Tale - 1. Chapter 1

The locker room smelled like feet and stale corn chips, but after another boring math period spent listening to Ms. Breaker drone on about converting fractions, feet and stale corn chips smelled like freedom. I longed to feel my muscles burn as I raced across the gym floor or the grass of the football field.

Coach Harper would give us five minutes after the bell to get dressed and change into our gym clothes. Since Ms. Breaker’s room was near the boys’ gym and we had five minutes for passing period, I could get to class fast enough to have around eight or nine minutes to change clothes.

I could get out of my street clothes and have them shoved into my gym locker faster than a cocaine-snorting mongoose, but even though I always got out of my street clothes first, everyone else got dressed faster than me. The locker room before and after gym class is the only place you can go naked at school without getting in trouble.

All the other boys in my gym class would strip down to their underwear and get into their gym clothes, but since I didn’t wear underwear, I ended up buck naked the minute I took my street clothes off. Since I hate wearing street clothes, I would stay naked for like seven or eight minutes.

The other boys would make cracks, but that meant they were looking right at my naked body. The attention made me reluctant to put my gym clothes on, though I usually managed to hop into my gym clothes just before coach blew his whistle to announce the start of warm-ups.

That day one of the boys in my gym class, a skinny kid named Ignacio, walked right up to me and said ,” Why don’t you put some clothes on, fag? No one likes seeing you parade around balls to the wind.”

Ignacio shot me a glare with those coal black eyes; I gave him an impudent grin. He took a step back and craned his head back, looking unsure of how to react.

“Glad you like my balls,” I said.

Those black eyes went wide, and Ignacio opened his mouth, though no sound came out. The other boys in the locker room snickered, and Ignacio backed away from me before stomping out of the locker room.

I made a point of staying naked a little longer than normal, but then I heard coach blow his whistle. Warm-ups had started! I had just lost 5 points from my grade for the day!

With no time to spare, I hopped into ratty gym shorts and pulled my white t-shirt on. I crammed my shoes and socks into my locker just before slamming it shut, and then, I ran out of the locker room barefoot.

When Coach heard the locker room door creak open and my bare feet slapping against the gym floor, he looked in my direction and shook his head. Disapproval marked every inch of his craggy face as he raised his pen to his clipboard.

“That’s ten points off your grade, McNash,” Coach Harper said.

“Ten points?” I protested.

Coach held up two fingers to emphasize his point. “Five points off for not being dressed on time and five points for not being in uniform.”

“I’ve got my gym clothes on,” I said.

Coach snorted. “You’re barefoot. That makes you out of uniform.”

I threw my arm up in frustration. “I can go get my shoes. Just give me a second.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ignacio smirking from where he sat on the gym floor, and I gritted my teeth when I saw coach fold his arms and shake his head. He made me run five laps around the gym before I got into place to warm-up with everyone else.

Running laps felt pretty good, but having everyone snigger at me and make cracks took all the fun out of it. Coach had called me out in front of everyone. The unfairness of it made me furious, and my mind raced searching for a way to get back at coach and everyone else.

After warm-ups, coach has us all run five laps before he announced we would play basketball. I had my shirt off and threw it in the corner as soon as coach said shirts and skins, and even though coach didn’t say anything about it, he rolled his eyes. He knew how much I would gripe if he made me play on the shirts team.

While coach assigned kids too different teams, I realized that only the tattered fabric of my gym shorts prevented me from being totally nude in the middle of the gym. I had worn the same red gym shorts the year before, and a couple growth spurts had made them a little too small. Any smaller and they would go from showing off the wiry muscles in my legs to displaying my balls every time I sat down.

During the game basketball game, I scored some points for my team even though I got a little distracted feeling my gym shorts rubbing against my swinging balls. My penis started getting stiff, and without any underwear under my shorts, the stiffer I got the more my boner showed through my shorts. It was awesome!

Ignacio noticed and couldn’t resist opening his big mouth. “Look, the fag is getting horny!”

Everyone’s eyes moved to my crotch, and an electric sensation shot down my spine. Blood rushed to my crotch until my penis stood straight up, flat against my stomach and throbbed every time my heart thumped my chest, and the thrill made me brave enough to thrust my hips forward so everyone could get an eye full.

Both teams seemed to forget about the game, and they all seem to start yelling at once. Though I couldn’t understand what they were saying because their voices echoed off the ceiling, I could tell I had freaked them out.

The kid with the ball stood there staring at me with his mouth hanging open. I saw my chance!

I ran over and snagged the ball from the kid’s hands, and without any hesitation, I hurled it toward the teams goal. Through sheer dumb luck, the ball landed on the rim, circled the rim twice, and then the ball fell through the basket a funny angle.

Everyone looked away from me to stare at the basket slack-jawed. I had just scored a three-point goal basket while everyone was distracted, and the feeling of triumph sent me right over the edge.

Sweat plastered my black hair to my head and made my gym shorts stick to my skin in a way that annoyed the hell out of me, and with a boner so hard it hurt, I did the craziest thing I ever did in my life. I seized the crotch of my shorts with both hands and yanked on the fabric as hard as I could.

The sound of the tearing fabric seemed impossibly loud, which made me feel even more exited. I shredded the fabric to tiny pieces and then hurled the remains of my destroyed shorts into the air with a grunt of contempt. The sounds I made cause everyone to look away from the basket and look at me in all my naked glory.

I stood there soaked head-to-toe in sweat, sporting a rock solid boner dripping precum on the gym floor. Maybe most kids would have felt embarrassed, but the total surprise on the faces of everyone staring at me made me feel just like a Greek god. I thrust my hips forward, pounded my chest with both fists, and let out the loudest Tarzan yell I could.

My fists thumped a primal beat against my chest, and the Tarzan yell I belted came from the jungle in my soul. The other boys started yelling all out once, some of them acting like they wanted to cover their eyes and some of them looking totally shocked. Coach looked furious, but I loved every second of it.

At least I loved it until ran over and grabbed me by the arm. Before I could even asked Coach what the hell he was doing, he dragged me over to the locker room, yanked the door open with his free hand, and he shoved me inside so roughly I almost fell flat on my face.

“Get your clothes on!” Coach shouted just before he slammed the door shut.

I glared at the door with my hands balled into fists. I was having fun damn it! Why did Coach have to go and ruin it?

For a second I thought about leaning against the lockers to jack off and doing it loud enough coach and every other boy in my gym class could hear it, but I started thinking about how much trouble I was probably already in. With a sigh I walked over to my gym locker and started fumbling with the combination to my gym locker.

About ten minutes later I was sitting in an lumpy chair across vice-principal’s desk, watching Mrs. Gretchen wave her hands around while she told me “she was appalled at my audacity”, and that I needed to think before I acted. She also said she “had half a mind to have me arrested”.

“Arrested?” I asked. My eyes got a little wide at the thought of how Mom would react if I got taken away from school in hand-cuffs.

Mrs. Gretchen pointed one crooked finger at me as if she meant to shoot her red press-on nail at me. “What you did is called indecent exposure, young man. You could end up in bigger trouble than you think doing things like that.”

Mrs. Gretchen announced I had two weeks suspension from school and that I should consider myself lucky she didn’t see a need to send me to alternative school. When Dad came to pick me up, he wasn’t even really that mad. He started laughing when we got into the car to go home.