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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2005.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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High School Jerk
By Wgnmkr (wgnmkr@aol.com)

***

Amazing things happen after a few years go by. The 
people you used to hate change, as in this particular 
case that happen to me not long ago. It was a guy I 
used to know in high school who was a complete jerk. We 
never spoke much, but we played soccer together on the 
school team, and sometimes it was impossible to avoid 
him. But he changed. (MM, mast)

***

I was in the Boston's Sporting Goods store, looking 
through the jogging shorts on the rack, trying to find 
a pair in my size. The 38s were mingled in with the 36s 
and 40s, and rummaging through was tedious. But I 
eventually found my size, with the color I wanted, and 
was holding them up to look at them when I heard a 
voice behind me call my name.

"Marty... Marty Bates, is that you?"

I turned, and behind the rack of tank tops stood a guy 
I knew in high school, Jake Plummer. He was one of the 
second stringers on the soccer team with me, and he was 
a jerk. As I watched him walk toward me to talk with 
me, I remembered the one scene during our high school 
days as seniors with him that I'll never forget.

I had forgotten something in my locker after practice 
and was returning for it. I thought I'd be the only one 
there, but I heard the shower running. I peeked around 
the corner of the wall to see who it was, and it was 
Jake. Obviously he stayed a little late to work on some 
of his dribbling skills, and was taking a shower. I 
didn't want to say hello because he was a dick and I 
didn't like him very much. 

Just as I was about to quietly turn away, I saw him 
reach for his penis and start to play with it. His 
torso was lathered up with soap, so I thought he was 
just washing himself, but he began playing with his 
limp penis in his fingers. I stood quietly behind the 
wall, watching him play with himself, his penis growing 
larger as the lather thicken with his fingering.  His 
dick quickly hardened with the sudsy stroking, and he 
began to masturbate in the shower.

The splatter of the water against the tiles echoed 
through the shower, drowning out some of Jake's 
moaning, but I could still hear him as I watched. He 
slowly stroked himself, working his hand up and down 
his hard shaft. I imagined he wanted to enjoy being 
alone in the shower jerking off because his hand moved 
at a slow steady pace. I don't know if he thought he 
wouldn't get caught or didn't care if he got caught 
masturbating the shower, but he was intent on enjoying 
himself and his hard dick.

I watched him for about five minutes, his hand never 
quickening, but never stopping either, as he jerked 
off. I felt my own dick getting hard and straining 
against my pants, but didn't do anything for fear of 
letting him know I was watching. As he stroked, the 
lather from the soap built up, and large dollops of 
suds plopped loudly on the floor and washed away in the 
water. He began to moan a little loader as his 
masturbating went on. 

Finally, his body began to convulse as he neared 
orgasm. Still with his hand moving at a slow steady 
stroke, his orgasm swept through him and his semen shot 
from his dick, through the air and landing in the water 
on the floor, only to be swept away in the water. I 
continued to watch as he came, looking at the semen 
spurt into the water, and his manipulations growing 
less and less as his penis began to grow limp. Then as 
quietly as I could, I left the locker room without 
picking up whatever it was I came back for, but leaving 
with a memory I would never forget.

"Well, Marty, it's been a few years, hasn't it?" Jake 
asked, sticking out his hand for a handshake. 

I took it, shaking it, and saying, "Since high school."

We talked for a bit, and he told me he left the city 
for a job elsewhere, but was back on business. I told 
him about myself, but he didn't seem that interested in 
my life. As we were about to say our good-byes, he said 
that we should get together for drinks tonight at the 
hotel bar.  Without thinking it over, I quickly said 
yes, and we decided to meet at eight.

I arrived about 15 minutes after, hoping he wouldn't be 
there, but he was still waiting, nursing a drink in 
front of him. He looked up as saw me as I walked toward 
the table and sat down. We greeted each other, I 
ordered a drink and we talked. Over the years he lost 
his attitude and I was enjoying our conversation. It 
mostly revolved around our high school days and the 
girls we liked then. He did most of the talking about 
he girls because I never had one when I was in high 
school, but I listened, because I remember the girls he 
talked about and how good-looking they were.

After a few drinks I was starting to feel light-headed, 
and all of a sudden I found myself talking about the 
time I saw him in the shower.

"You know I saw you jerking off in the shower after 
practice one day," I said.

"Really, you should have said something or joined me," 
he said matter-of-factly. "Lot of us guys used to do it 
all the time. I guess you just left too early."

"Guess so."

He smirked and took a sip of his drink.  "So you got me 
jerking off."

We chuckled a little, then we went silent.

"Hey, you want to do it now?" he asked, poking at the 
ice in his drink with his straw.

"Do what now?" Although I probably knew what he meant.

"Well, we can go up to my room and jerk off together," 
he explained.  "There's a liquor store down the street; 
I can go pick up a bottle or two and we can jerk off in 
my room. What'dya say?"

"I don't know, I never...."

"There's always a first time. That's all we'll do, 
watch each other jerk off. Hey, here's my room key. Go 
up to it, get undressed and I'll go get some booze. We 
can get drunk and jerk off."

I stared down into my drink, swirling the liquid, 
listening to the ice clink against the side of the 
glass. Finally, I shrugged and said, "Sure, why not."

"Great, go up to the room and I'll be there in about 20 
minutes." As he left the bar I watched him go, downed 
the rest of my drink and left the bar myself, passing 
through the lobby to the elevators, and going up the 
third floor. His room was just three doors down from 
the elevator, and I unlocked it and went in. The room 
was still tidy, except one of the beds was wrinkled up 
from where he sat. Then I got undressed and sat on the 
bed and watched television until he returned.

It was about twenty minutes when I heard the knock on 
the door and him saying it was him and to let him in. I 
got up and opened the door, standing behind it to hide 
my nudity from anyone who might be in the hall. He 
stepped passed me into the room and I closed the door. 
He looked at me and remarked that he was glad to see me 
already naked, then put the bag down on the table and 
took out two bottles of alcohol, one rum and one 
whiskey.  

He excused himself then went to the bathroom to undress 
and urinate while I opened the rum and took a swig. I 
returned to the bed where I sat earlier and put the 
bottle on the table next to the bed, spread my legs 
slightly apart so I could start playing with myself 
when Jake got out of the bathroom. In a few minutes I 
heard the bathroom door open and Jake stepping out, 
naked as I was.

"Sorry, but I don't have the exquisite lube, but here's 
some baby oil," he said, throwing me a small bottle of 
it, which was already half empty.

"I see you've already used most of it," I said, 
smiling.

He picked up the bottle of whiskey, opened it and 
drank, then sat on the other bed opposite me, opening 
his legs too.  He still had a trim body but with the 
weight a guy normally puts on as he grew older. But 
neither of us had a large gut, and our dicks were about 
the same size. His balls were a little larger and 
saggier than mine and would probably bounce around more 
while he stroked his erection.

"Well, what're you waiting for, lube up and start 
stroking," he said, taking another swallow of whiskey.

I opened the oil and dripped some on my hand and began 
working it into my limp penis, letting Jake watch me 
play with my dick to get it hard. My dick began to grow 
harder, standing erect between my legs. Then I 
liberally dripped some more oil onto my hand and passed 
him the bottle so he could lube up his dick. I worked 
the oil into my dick, hearing the oil squish between my 
hard dick and hand and fingers as I moved my hand up 
and down the now hard shaft of my dick.

Jake did the same, oiling up his limp dick and playing 
with it to get it hard enough to start stroking in 
earnest. It didn't take long for him to get hard. In 
its erect position, his dick was a little longer than 
mine, but not much though, and just as round. I could 
tell he really got into stroking his dick, because he 
was already making "oh"-ing and "aw"-ing noised as he 
worked his shaft and fingered its oily head. And I 
watched him, his legs spread, his dick hard, his hand 
gliding over the oily shaft. He watched me too, my hand 
sliding up and down my own hard dick, thumbing the 
head.

"I like to jerk off at least an hour, Marty," he said, 
"so take it slow."

"Yeah," I replied, "I've done it for that long a couple 
times too."

"It feels too good having my hard dick in my hand and 
stroking it to come quickly. I really like to beat off 
like this. And having you watch me while I watch you, 
that's really hot," he said, playing with his erection.

"It's my first time doing this with another guy," I 
admitted, "except for watching you in the shower way 
back when."

"Watching another guy jerk off is great, isn't it? I 
mean, look at this," he said, directing my gaze between 
his open legs as his hand glided up and down his oily 
shaft.

"Yup," I agreed, watching him, and spreading my legs 
too, allowing him to enjoy seeing me with my dick in my 
hand.

For about the next two hours we jerked off together, 
watching each other, talking about how good 
masturbation feels, remembering the girls in high 
school that we wanted to fuck.  About three times 
during that two hours we let our dicks go limp, 
watching them shrink, then fingering them again and 
getting them hard, occasionally adding more oil.  
Finally, I was beginning to feel the increasing tension 
in my crotch that all this stroking was doing, and told 
Jake that it was time shoot my load. I think he was 
feeling the same thing, because he quickly agreed.

Sitting across from each other on the separate beds, we 
spread our legs for each other, giving up all modesty. 
Slowly we worked our hand in unison up and down our own 
hard dicks, the oil making squishing sound.

"Jerk yourself," Jake urged, "show me how a guy gets 
himself off."

"Work it," I returned, "feel the burn of your hard 
dick."

Our hands moved faster, but it didn't take but two or 
three more strokes before we both went off. 
Simultaneously we came, shoot our loads on our own 
bodies, the sperm squirting all the way up to our necks 
and chests, spilling over our stomachs and running down 
our oily hands.  

Although it was two men masturbating, the orgasm was as 
if there were only one man stroking one dick which 
spurted the white fluid over one torso. I could feel 
him shutter as he came, and I'm sure he could feel my 
quaking as well. It was a few minutes before we said 
anything, both of us breathing heavily, still stroking 
our oily dicks, watching each other still fingering 
ourselves.

After that night Jake and I got together whenever he 
came back into town, which was about once a month. He 
was here during a three-day weekend once and all we did 
those three days as walk around my apartment with 
nothing on, always playing with our dicks, masturbating 
whenever we wanted to. It all seemed so natural.

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 33