____________________________ | | /)| KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF |(\ / )| DIRECTORIES |( \ __( (|____________________________|) )__ ((( \ \ > /_) ( \ < / / ))) (\\\ \ \_/ / \ \_/ / ///) \ / \ / \ _/ \_ / / / \ \ o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o o betical directories. o o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to o o be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s o o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o Jock Jerk (gay) by Dorian Grey ------------> Budding Brad <---------------- |*** Written and contributed by Dorian Grey.| |*** Dedicated to Brad Budney. | |*** Written/uploaded/copyrighted 1/25/88. | -------------------------------------------- . . . Morning practice for the swim team was a real bitch. . I had to get up early. Real early. Before the crack of . dawn. And drive to the college and change. I'd always . been a morning person, but this was just too much. . 6:00 AM and I jumped into lane 6, whose affectionate . appelation was "Remedial Six," due to the coach's . tendency to put the slowest swimmers in the last lane . during practice and meets. I always thought the whole . idea was to get people pissed of being in the slow . lane so they would speed up, but later the supposed . real reason was explained to me: When many people . are swimming at the same time in the same pool, . like in a race or in practice, the water moves . from the center of the pool to all corners. . When a swimmer is in the outer lanes, lanes 1 and 6, . there is much more water movement, and hence more . resistance. . Traditionally, the best swimmers were placed in . the centermost lanes so they could work on . their times and getting places. It was rationalized . that the worse swimmers wouldn't win anyway, nor . would it make much of a difference in psychological . terms, either in practice or meets. . That's what really grabbed me when, after . our eight lap warmup. I was all alone in lane . six, the worse of the worse, with Brad "the bud" . Budney. He was Olympic material as a junior. . And I, being no sack of dead meat in water, but . no Speedy Gonzales either, was more than a little . miffed that not only was I not chosen as a senior . captain by the coach, but was forced into lane six . just for missing a few practices. Alright, more . than a few, but I did well at meets. But for . Brad to be in lane six was ludicrous, and it . was outrageous for none of the freshman to . be in there. . "Why are you in lane six?" , I asked . Brad, who managed to be hot in water as . cold as a York Peppermint Pattie. . "I saw the coach put you in here," he said, . "and didn't think you should be all alone." . I found this to be more and more intriguing . as I started to swim the dreaded pyramids. Brad . and I had always been on good, if strange terms. . He was so quiet. But from time to time he'd yell . out of nowhere, "Hey, Dorian!" or just "Doriaaaan!" . I, the fool that I was, and not willing to be . outdone by an underclassman, always replied, . "Braaaaaad!" But that was basically it. . I didn't see much of Brad because he . was a club swimmer: a team member that . swims all year round with an aquatic club. . He was, like all club members, exempt from . all but one practice a week. This . was unusual for him to be here on a Monday, . especially since our high school had . off that week. We only had three practices . at the college as a consequance, and Brad . could have claimed ignorance of them after . vacation. But he was here. . After practice, I showed Brad to . "The Club." It was not really a club, . but Kevin and I discovered it the year before, . with a sign on the entrance mentionning . something about an alumni club for . old sportsmen and coaches of the college . where we practiced. . Brad gave his "Yeah, cool." reaction . to my explanations of the whole thing, and . we entered the private bathroom . and shower alone, because the other . upperclassmen who knew of the Club's existence . skipped practice that morning. . I took my shampoo and lathered up, . hoping to get rid of that ropy sensation . one feels after an overchlorinated . session in a pool. It sounded like . Brad was taking off his suit, and a quick . glance confirmed my suspicions. . Brad stood there, accross . from me in The Club, meager team . suit pulled one third off. The . suit's line crossed some very interesting . territory, and the manner in which it . was positioned one, and I, could not help . but noticing the slimness of Brad's . waist, nor his sparse growth of pubic . hair that was brown, unlike his blond . head. I bet that he shaved some of . the hair recently, because 2 years . before he had more as a freshman. . It looked sexier. I thought . he probably didn't do it for looks . but for racing. . Brad turned, and I admired . how his suit reveal his bulging . buttocks, and his nice, fine . crack. I was tantalized for more, . but couldn't risk a prolonged . glance since he might turn . around any second. . His strong but slender handes . seemed to almost massage his hips . and the sides of his buttocks . before he slid his suit down . and off. I adored the view . I got and turned around . and pulled my suit off, too. . I rinsed my hair, . and became upset at its . consistent ickiness. I . bantered back and forth . with Brad about that special shampoo, . UltraSwim, and really lathered . up a second time. Between . the water and the rinsing and . lathering, I missed the beginning . of Brad's strangeness in talking. . It sounded.... strange. . almost strained. Quiet, and . falterning, modulating in volume . and diction. I dropped my suit . from its place hanging on the . hot-water-knob on purpose, and ducked . down so I could retrieve it and hear . Brad better. I heard his voice . pause a second, and a wet, swishing . noise go "flick, flick, flick," a few . times and stop. . I stood up and promptly . knocked over my shampoo bottle, and it . went slipping and sliding accross . the showers to Brad's side. . I turned around, and caught sight . of Brad, with his hand on his . penis, masturbating before he . quickly turned around and fetched . me my bottle of 'poo. He turned, . almost shyly, and handed me my . bottle, and I looked down at his . healthy erection while accepting . the proffered bottle. My wet . cock stirred in response . to Brad's obvious arousal, and . I smiled, and turned around. . I had no nerve whatsoever. . . . That night, I replayed . the whole sequence of event sin my . head while in bed, fondling myself. . He was so hot. I've thought of . some guys as cute before, and . some as really masculine-let-me-let-you . fuck-me-please, but I'd never really . come accross anyone as hot as Brad. . And he was interested in me! Or . at least his body was. I blew . it, without even getting to blow him! . The chances of another such shower . in The Club with Brad, alone and . aroused were too slim. Alas, and . alack. What fool, me. . . . The next morning I wasn't . in lane six anymore. I got moved . down to lane five. Brad moved too, . and I was in a mixed state of fear . and desperation as I contemplated . my future actions while doing laps . with Brad at my side. . He didn't need to come that day. . But he did. Maybe he was trying . to tell me something. Maybe he . just had no aquatic club practice . and wanted to keep his delicious . muscle tone. Maybe. Maybe. . I needed an answer. . The scene in The Club . repeated itself in the beginning, . with one major addition: I made . sure my shower had a nozel angled . so the spray would hit me below my ears . so I could hear every second. . I began the conversation that . day on a totally different, non-shampoo . related topic. Sex. I pulled off . my bathing suit early on in the . verbal game so I could be seen. . Brad pulled his off, and this time . I didn't stop looking at him while he . did so, partly because I was talking . to him and to do so would point the matter . out, and partly because I wanted a . good gander at his gander. . "I don't think virginity is . either a state of mind OR flesh," . I said, contrasting his previous . statement, "I think it's the state . of New Jersey." . Brad had a good laugh at that one, . and I enjoyed his laugh. He had . a good laugh. Nice and deep, . and I could see his chest shake, . in addition to his cock, which . was starting to get slightly . plumper as the moments passed. . "Really," he replied, as he picked . up his suit inbetween his toes and put . it on his hot handle, "How many . virgins do you think there are in . the state of New Jersey?" . I told him I could not . divlge exact figures, as I did . not possess population data . and thus could not give him my . estimate of percentage. . "Let's take a smaller population . sample," said I, "how about the guys . in the 11th and 12th grades, or on the . team, or... no, something even smaller." . "How about your estimate of the . number of virgins in the Club?" Brad . said with a strange tinge to his voice. . "I started to get a major boner, . so I began to lather up while feigning . mental calculations. I dropped my shampoo . because my hands were still lathered up . from the previous wash, and when I bent over . to pick the bottle up, it slipped between my legs. . I tried to reach through them, because I didn't . want to turn around with a raging hard-on. . It was then that I noted Brad's . modulation of volume again. He was breathing . hard. Harder than my cock. I said, . with the shrillness of nervousness in my . voice, "Could you pass me my shampoo, Brad?" . He passed it, alright. Right through my . legs, but he was passing it underhanded instead . of overhandend, and his hand touched my balls . going and coming. . When I finished lathering, Brad was positively . panting. I turned to be rewarded by his jerking . off again. He coughed, and turned, and then said that . he was going to get out of the shower early . because he had to call and try and get a ride . so he wouldn't have to walk home in the freezing . cold weather. . I stayed in the shower, and jerked-off . for a while, but couldn't come because I have never . been able to come while standing up. I decided . to go and get dressed and go home to beat . my meat. . However, when I got to the lockerroom, I . saw that all the underclassmen had already left. . I always thought it wwould be kind of kinky to . get off in a locker room, especially the college's . locker room. And boy, was I horny! . I located the perfect place: There was this . one bench that was not bolted to the floor, and I found . it in its usual place, facing the bathroom, with the . stalls and piss pots. . It wasn't very long, only about six or seven feet, . but it was wide enough that I could lie down on it . without much trouble. It was hard, like me, so I . put a bunch of towels on it, especially near where . my head would be. . I thought I heard a grunt, or a moan, or . someone in pain nearby, but when I turned my head . in the direction from whence it came, the bathroom, . I saw no one in there and no feet were underneath . the stalls, so I dropped my suit on the floor, spread . my legs on either side of the bench, and sat and then . lied down. I started to jerk off, and started to . talk to myself under my breat. . Vocalizing is great during masturbation, . but you have to be sure no one can hear you, especially . if you're talking out gay fantasies like I do. . I then closed my eyes, to let my imagination run the . gauntlet of desire. My heartbeat and my hand's . rythym increased. There was a sound almost . like light, bare, footsteps, but I ignored . them, as I knew no one had entered since there wasn't . any tell-tale sign of entrance like the creaky door's . screaching. . I reached the epiphany of climax, that delicious . moment when you know you're going to come, because it's . inevitable, but you just don't know exactly when until . you feel the echo of a spurt in your balls. Riding . the incipient wave of pleasure, but wanting it all, . I started to cry out, "Cum, Brad!" , keeping with . my fantasy where this peroxide blond with grey eyes . and light brown pubic hair thrusts and thrusts and . then pulls out and cums all over me, "Cum on me, . Brad! Cum! Now!" In the back of my mind I wondered . if a janitor could hear me, but I didn't care. A . janitor probably couldn't hear me over my loud breating, . anyway, I thought to myself. . But it wasn't my breathing! I was breathing . hard, but not that hard. I opened my eyes . to see Brad, standing there, jerking off, and . was surprised and shocked to suddenly feel . that area between my belly-button and my pubic . hair covered with liquidy cum. Cum that was . not my own. This got me so turned on that I came, . even though I had pulled back my hand from . my cock half a minute before. . Brad just looked at me, and smiled. When . I recovered my senses and my breath I asked, . "But didn't you leave?!?!?" . To which my jerk partner replied, . "No. I was in the stall, jerking off with . my feet against the door." . "Oh," I said, becoming shy again, . even with two sets of cum all over me. . "I couldn't get a ride and kept . on thinking about that question I asked . that you never answered." . "Which question?" , I inquired. . "The one about how many virgins . there are in this room right now." . I gave Brad a little tug on his . cock and caught a drop of his juice . on the tip of my index finger and . said, "I'll tell you the answer to . that question and more after I . take you home (with me) and give you . a RIDE you'll never forget." . Brad smile, and laughed, . and I knew the rest of vacation . wasn't going to be as boring as . I thought. Remedial Six . wouldn't be so bad. With Brad. . . . ---dorian--- ----grey---- .