Sharing a Sleeping Bag With a Guy On My Wrestling Team 06

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Chapter 6: Back to School

The first day back felt pretty surreal. My mind went back to seeing Melanie in the hallway, and what I might say to her. But then there was Max. I felt like I had a secret boyfriend to deal with, in a weird way. Lockers slammed. Bells rang. People complained about schedules like nothing had changed in the world. I kept waiting for someone to randomly look at me and say, "Hey, everyone knows what you did."

When I passed Max in hallway that morning, he acted like nothing changed, which somehow made everything feel weird. Naturally, I wouldn't expect him to reveal what went on, but he was almost cold to me. During first period I sent him a simple text, "You wanna hang out after practice?"

I didn't get a reply. I didn't see him during the school day since we had different classes.

He replied five hours later, near the end of the school day with one word, "busy". I stared at it until the screen dimmed, like if I kept looking it would rearrange itself into something else.

By the time practice rolled around, my nerves were getting to me. I felt irritable. I felt strange and moody. The locker room had always been full of male nudity and noise and jokes and sweat, a place where gay jokes and slaps on the ass barely registered. That afternoon it felt different. I turned the corner to the main changing area and saw Max. It made my stomach sink.

He was leaning back against the lockers as he casually told the guys about "Finally banging Melanie again now that we're back. I blew the biggest load in her this morning before school. It was awesome." It made me cringe. Max and I had never actually talked about what happened on the desert trip. I felt hurt. He was showing off banging her again, even pulling out pics to show the group.

Trent was there in the group, the only guy who knew what had gone on. Trent glanced at the screen, then looked at me. His eyes softened for half a second, like he got it.

I felt like I wanted to cry, but it came out physically as more anger than sadness. I found myself unconsciously throwing my clothes on roughly, like they had personally wronged me. My chest tightened. I yanked my practice shirt over my head a little too hard. I slammed my locker without meaning to. When I looked up, Max caught my eye. He held it, still smiling. It seemed like he sensed how pissed I was, but his face still didn't drop from his confident smirk. It felt so strange after I had enjoyed fucking him and getting fucked by him. The desert, the sleeping bag, all of it just flooded through me and I simply felt confused. My testosterone converted that into rage.

"Show him," someone said, gesturing to me.

"He's already seen the action up close," Max said. The guys hooted and hollered a bit, without realizing what he actually meant. I didn't even pretend to smile. I didn't have the power to do so. I was seeing red. Somehow, I didn't act out beyond that, and we headed into the training room.

Practice was worse. Max found ways to get to me, like he was antagonizing me. During a takedown drill, he pressed up behind me for a split second too long  and gave me a firm hump, grinding his crotch into my ass for a moment.

He murmured in me ear, “You like that?” and I snapped. I shoved him hard, my elbow catching his stomach. He laughed, but doubled over at the same time, and Coach barked at me to follow the rules.

Later, between drills, Max passed me and said, "nice ass" under his breath. My jaw clenched. Somehow, Trent clocked it immediately. He cracked a lewd joke about "using these positions to fuck our girlfriends" loud enough to pull Coach’s attention as I swung a fist into Max’s hip, knuckling his right glute like I was giving him a dead leg. The guys laughed. Max swore. I  jerked my head toward Coach, ready for a scolding, but he was reacting to Trent's crude joke. I realized that he had covered for me. It was a dumb and boyish moment, but it meant everything.

After practice, the showers filled with our naked bodies. It was a steamy soup of male muscles. The shower room was comprised of old "jerry poles" with spouts up top. Guys had to circle around a central pole and face each other while we showered off. The setup left nowhere to hide. Max slid into the spot next to mine, water streaking down his bulbous pecs and washboard abdomen. He didn’t say much, just smirked.

Trent took the head on my other side. Max waggled his eyebrows. “You here for another show?”

“Fuck off,” Trent said.

Max laughed, shut off his water, and left.

I stayed, scrubbing soap over my shoulders like I could wash the anger out. Trent shook his head. “He’s a jackass.”

“I don’t even know why I’m so mad,” I said. "It just feels weird that he's pretending nothing happened."

“He’s a horny meathead,” Trent said.

I laughed despite myself. “I thought you’d be on his side.”

“Nah. I fuck around a lot, but I would never do that to someone.”

It hit me then how solid of a guy Trent was. The jokes, the humping, all of it stopped short of crossing lines that mattered. 

When the room emptied, Trent and I stayed behind, casually lathering up needlessly, just to continue talking. When no one else was there, our words echoed more. We turned on a bunch of extra shower heads, running around naked just for fun. It was nice to take my mind off of things and just fuck around a bit.

I found myself checking out his body a lot more than I normally would. Max and all the desert shenanigans had really opened my eyes. Males were fun to do stuff with. Everything was fun, even getting off. I tried not to stare, but I took note of the curves of his muscular ass, maybe even better than Max's. His balls were big and plump. I was pretty sure he trimmed his pubes, the only hair on his entire body. He didn't even have any hair on his balls. I thought that was cool.

Seemingly out of nowhere, he said casually, “We could probably get away with jerking off in here if we wanted.”

My body reacted before my brain did. Blood rushed into my shaft as I opened my eyes wide at him. I didn't even make a move, but my dick was doing the talking for me. My dick started to rise a bit at the thought of it. 

“Bro, put that thing away,” he said, dashing my hopes for a little fun, pointing at my dick and putting his hand up to block his view with his other hand.

"But you JUST said... nevermind," I sighed with a chuckle, turning my faucet to cold, trying to make my growing boner fall asleep.

“You wanna get milkshakes?” I blurted out next.

“Right now?” He smiled.

“Yeah, after this.”

We lingered for a long time, just showering naked in front of each other. It felt like bonding, moreso than any other moment I had experienced since starting wrestling. We just kept chatting about this and that. We talked about movies we liked, video games. I couldn't believe we had never chatted in depth before. It was like we had a thousand things in common. He literally used to have a dog that had the same name as my current dog, Gizmo. I was like WTF!

On our way out, Trent had to run to his school locker before we left, so I waited for him.

Max walked by.

My stomach sank a bit. I was mad and didn't want to fall into his bizarre charm. It felt weird to even think like that. I wasn't used to having a "thing" with another guy, and especially not being jilted like that. I felt like a girl.

“Hey,” he said as he stopped in front of me.

"Hey," I said coldly, avoiding eye contact with him. 

“You okay?”

"I just think you're kind of an asshole," I blurted out, surprised at myself.

He looked genuinely confused. “Why?”

I didn’t answer right away. Max turned with his body to corner me in front of the lockers, low voice.

His eyes flicked down, then back up.

He stepped close to me as he said, “What’s wrong, dude?”, his forearm brushing my bare side that was exposed from my t-shirt riding up with my backpack. I pulled my shirt down to cover the bare spot.

“Dude!” I snapped at him, but my body betrayed me. I turned toward him instinctively, letting him interact with me physically, like I was some girl he had under his spell. I felt a boner coming on, and he already knew that mine always came on rapidly and strongly. I felt like I had to adjust something as my rod of steel tented my pants, but I couldn’t even figure out what.

He looked down and saw my bulging response to his presence. He didn’t comment. Just exhaled through his nose like he was trying not to smile.

I finally spoke. "I don't know. It's like you just want to pretend nothing happened. Or whatever. I don't even know. It's confusing." I found myself talking myself out of being mad. It was like I didn't actually have a good reason. He wasn't even arguing with me about it. I just felt stupid. I was losing my resolve. 

"I'm sorry man," he said genuinely, "Is that why you seemed down before practice?"

I just glared at him.

"Look," he said, "I have to be somewhere right now, but can you be a man about it? Let's go for a walk and talk or something." 

"Another time," I said. 

"Ok," he replied. He looked honestly pretty confused and worried as he stepped away, but he still had his confident stride that I couldn't look away from.

Trent was back a second later. "Was that Max?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

But suddenly, my eyes started welling up, a tear escaping and running down my cheek. I couldn't even put my feelings into words. Max wasn't a villain. He was a destabilizer. I didn't know who I was when I was around him. He had this nature of making whatever he wanted to do seem like the most fun idea in the world at the moment, then he would just move on with his life. It didn't even make sense, but he had a hold on me. I started wiping my eyes and trying to prevent myself from whimpering. Trent put a hand on my shoulder.

"Let's go," I said, my throat burning, "Milkshakes aren't gonna drink themselves."

The milkshakes were nice, and Trent and I fell right back into our conversation. He was like the coolest guy I had ever met. My brain kept flashing the words "best friend material" and I was embarrassed just by the thought. We decided we were hungry and headed to my place.

My mom made dinner and brought it to us in my room. It felt normal in a really comforting way. 

We ate and sprawled on the floor. We started talking about the gay stuff. 

“I’m cool with it,” he said casually, “I honestly wonder what it’s like. I just have no interest in male anatomy at all. It’s like looking at drywall. Nothing appealing about it.”

“I never thought I’d do something with a guy, but then Max just started humping me in his sleep basically,” I said, shrugging. “Now it’s like it opened a can of worms.”

“Well I saw everything I needed to see in the car,” he said with a chuckle, “You seemed like you were having a blast.”

“I was,” I admitted, blushing a bit.

We got on the topic of girls we like, porn we like, even really kinky stuff. Stuff I've never told anyone. We get super vulnerable with each other. 

“I’m into pegging,” he admitted almost shyly, “I would love for a girl to fuck me in the ass. I’m just afraid I’d get like addicted to it and not be able to cum from anything else after that.”

“I think you’d be fine. You can still have normal sex after taking it up the ass,” I offered reassuringly, also with an ironic smile at how funny our conversation had gotten.

“Yeah, I guess you would know,” he said nonchalantly. 

He then pulled up a video on his phone. I immediately got hard when I saw him adjust himself looking at the screen. It was a girl fucking a guy in the ass with a strap-on.

“Damn, dude,” I said.

I wanted to make sure he didn’t feel too weird, so I offered my own secret.

“My kind of weird thing is I'm into bondage,” I said, “When a girl ties up a guy. Or maybe two guys I guess. Haven’t really thought about the gay version yet. Or when the girl fucks another guy in front of him, and the other guy has a bigger dick.”

 "Your dick is so big though," he said, turning to me with a smirk. 

I chuckled, and we both turned our attention back to the screen as we started to rub ourselves over our pants.

Suddenly, he whipped out his thick, hard dick, as casually as if he were alone in his room at home, while staring at the phone. My eyes darted to my open door. He didn’t even react, like he was in a trance watching the video, as I got up and closed my door, securing the lock before sitting down next to him on my rug again.

I mirrored his actions, pulling myself out, hip to hip with him as we started stroking it together. It was a rush, since I didn’t expect anything like this to happen. 

We briefly compared dicks, touching them tip to tip for a second, but he pulled away.

I was definitely longer than him, but he was actually a bit thicker than me, with a larger head swelling up at the end of his rod. I compared us to Max in my head, who was longer and thicker than both of us. Trent opening up and jerking off with me drove me crazy. I immediately had to hold off from pushing myself over the edge, slowly touching myself.

"Have you ever jerked off with a guy before?" I asked after about five minutes of slow stroking next to each other.

"My brothers, if that even counts," he said immediately, like it was no big deal. "And Max once upon a time, when we were neighbors." It felt like a big revelation to me, but he didn't even seem to realize it. 

Finally, he said, "Let's cum at the same time."

"Ok," I said, increasing my pace to match his. 

"Here," he said, grabbing a pair of my underwear from my hamper next to him. He placed it between us on the floor, then put his phone on top of it. “This girl is my favorite. Let's drown her in our cum."

It was so hot to me, somehow mixing a hetero jerk sesh into some homoerotic bro bonding moment. It was messy and boyish and felt like crossing a line and not crossing it at the same time.

I didn't even say anything, just rose onto my knees next to him. I could feel his breath as we leaned over the phone together. Our bare thighs and hips were pressed into each other, pressing harder into each other with each passing moment as we rapidly stroked our wet dicks. He was dripping pre-cum out in long, shaky, sticky strings that almost touched the floor before they shook off him. He was a wet mess, making sloshing sounds that were barely covered by our quick breaths. 

His arm was looking beefy, as a shimmer of sweat appeared on his forehead. Our bodies were fully touching, his movements powering mine, and vice versa as we prepared to cum in front of each other.

He didn't say anything as he suddenly jutted his hips forward, aiming his dick at the gif of the girl getting double penetrated on his phone, and I did the same. Our fists tugged ourselves at maximum speed, bumping into each other repeatedly as we aimed them downward. Suddenly, he gushed out his first rope of white goo. It landed as much on my hand and cock as on the floor, completely missing the phone. It felt like a metaphor, as his cum added heat and lubrication to my own stroking and felt like heaven. I squirted my own load a moment later, and we coated the phone in a thick and watery, whitish clear mess. You couldn't even tell who the girl was by the time we emptied our balls onto her. He grabbed my hip for balance as he was cumming, almost squeezing my ass cheek. I grabbed his shoulder with my other hand. 

"That was fun," he said between shaky breaths. He looked like he was going to pass out. 

"Yeah," I said, sitting my bare ass back on my heels. "It was."

"Did you get off looking at my dick?" he asked as he grabbed some more of my underwear to wipe himself off. There was no judgement. I could tell he was just honestly curious if that's how my mind worked.

"A little," I admitted. "I'm obviously a bit bi."

"That's cool," he said, "I don't get off on stuff like that, but drowning a girl in two loads of cum made me nut ten times harder than normal."

"That's hot," I said. "I guess we have a new hobby."

"I'd say so," he said with a chuckle.

When he finally stood up and pulled on his pants, I walked him out. It somehow didn’t feel like a big moment. It felt like we had just been friends for a long time, and this was normal. He was pulling his hoodie on, half distracted, like he might have left something upstairs.

Then he looked at me and said, “Hey. Just saying. We have a really cool vibe when we hang out.”

I smiled, because yeah. That was exactly it.

It hit me harder than I expected. I felt weirdly ecstatic, like the anti-Max had revealed himself at the perfect time.

We dabbed it up quickly, as poorly as white boys usually do, and he jogged down the steps as I closed the door behind him as my phone buzzed. 

It was Max. He wanted to come over.

I hesitated. My stomach sank. I also felt kind of good, maybe even empowered for some reason. I said yes.

The energy when he arrived and plopped down in my gaming chair was a sharp contrast from the day I had spent with Trent. Feelings arose. Confusion and weirdness as we small talked about wrestling while I sat tentatively on my bed.

He had only been in my room for maybe one minute before he blurted out, “I just fucked Melanie again before coming over.”

"Cool, dude," I said ironically, with a scoffing tone as I rolled my eyes. "What did you want to come over for? Just to tell me that?"

"Well," he said, lowering his waist band, plopping out his half hard, large, thick, glistening pale shaft, "I know you like her. I was wondering if you wanted to taste her pussy juice off my cock."