The following story is purely fiction involving fictional individuals of different ages being engaged in sexual acts. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Please do not read any further if you believe that this topic may offend you. If you are under the age of 18 or reside in a location where it is not legal to read these stories, then please hit the back button and leave now.
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Carter and the Biker Boy
Chapter 13
"Carter? Carter Michaels?"
"Yes? I mean, oh, sorry! Here!"
"Oh, there you are, Senor Michaels. Como te llamas en Espanol, Carter?" Senora Lopez, the third year Spanish teacher finally saw me sitting behind one of the big junior boys in the corner of the room. I had a hard time finding the room, since it was located in the junior part of the school, and one of the only seats left was amongst three guys that looked like they were the starting defensive line for the Harlem Huskies football team. Senora Lopez was waiting for my response, wanting to know what my name was in Spanish. I had completely zoned out, totally intimidated by being in this end of the school. So of course, the first thing I did was respond with a completely wrong answer.
"Carter Angel Michaels, Senora," was all I could think of to respond, saying my name like my mom would always call me when she was mad at me: Car-tair An-hel Matt-hews! The teacher already knew my name, and then embarrassed me more when she told me in Spanish she knew my name but wanted to know what my chosen Spanish name would be in class.
"Oh, disculpame, Senora. Um, en su clase me llamo.... Mateo (Ma-tay-o) por favor. I apologized and told her I would like my name to be Mateo -- Matthew.
"Ay Senor Michaels ya tenemos Mateo Smith, y Dios mio no podemos tener dos Mateos en mi clase! Quieres un otro nombre?" Dang. There was already another Matthew in class. Okay. So I chose the name of one of my mom's favorite singers, David.
"Lo siento, Senora. Me llamo David (Dah-VEED) por favor." Amidst a few snickers in the class when they figured out I wanted to be called David Micheals, Senora Lopez nodded and agreed that my name would be David in class. She went on to ask me how it was that a freshman would be able to get into a third year Spanish class, and I explained to her in perfect Spanish that I learned from my abuelitos and that I had tested into her class. She then acknowledged that she did remember a freshman who did test into her class, and I was the only one to do so. As I felt all of the students in the class staring at me, my face continued to get bright red in embarrassment. This was not good.
My first day at Harlem High school was going okay. I got up on time, got dressed in my new khaki shorts, a white tee shirt, short sleeve button up light blue denim colored shirt, my new Nike socks, and shoes. With my new haircut, my short blonde hair was parted off to the side and was held in place with gel. Mom thought I looked great and wished me good luck as she dropped me off in front of the entrance door to the freshman end of the building. Despite the feeling of being way intimidated and the blunder with Senora Lopez in first hour Spanish 3 class, the first few classes were fine -- I actually had Javy in my Algebra 1 class, which was third hour, right before lunch. He was doing fine, much better than me since he had found his friends from soccer and was hanging out with them. We were going to have lunch together, but by the time I made it through the food line and checked out, the last seat had been taken at his table, so I had to sit alone. It was okay, I used to being by myself, and all was going good until I finished my lunch: a Hot Dog with ketchup and mustard with French fries and a small bag of red grapes. So of course, when I got up to go to the garbage can, I ran right into a dude that had to be like seven feet tall and weighed three hundred pounds. My tray immediately was plastered against my shirt -- the ketchup cup from the fries was also plastered against my nice clean white shirt. Some of the ketchup got on the big guy's shirt, so naturally he pushed me, and I fell backwards, spilling the rest of my uneaten fries on top of my chest.
"Get out of my way, freshie," was all he said. I was so embarrassed and immediately had to go to the bathroom to try and clean the ketchup off my tee shirt before going to my U.S. History class, which was next. That wasn't the worst of it all. Little did I know that as I walked into the boys' bathroom, I was followed into the bathroom by the two losers, Terrell and Connor.
"Hey Michaels, we meet again." Connor said as he snickered, both of the boys surrounding me as I stood at the sink washing the ketchup stain out of my white shirt. "So, how's your first day, faggot boy?" I didn't answer them, but kept washing my shirt, as my nervousness was now washing over me like tidal waves crashing in on the beach.
"What's the matter, fag-boy? Your cousin not here to protect you now, is he? Well guess what, we got something to go with your ketchup stained shirt. How's about a quickie blowjob for us since you liked it so well in your garage?"
I was starting to get nervous to the point of shaking, but also felt a rage starting to build inside. In my mind's eye, my fist would have connected first by punching each of those losers in the gut, followed by another solid blow to each of their noses, which would have ultimately resulted in broken noses and a swift kick delivered solidly into their balls. But no, I was now nervous to the point of just doing what they wanted so they would leave me alone. It was heading in that direction, as I felt myself being pushed back against the wall into the handicapped stall by both of them, and as I looked down, I could tell by the front of their khakis that they were both hard and ready to do what they did to me in the garage, but just like that the bathroom door open and the deep voice of a man startled all three of us.
"Boys! What is going on here? Out of the stall, now!" Looking at Terrell and Connor, it was easy to tell what was going down, as I was on the verge of tears. The two idiots looked surprised to be caught, their tented shorts giving away what was about to happen. "You two, get out of here, now. I had better not catch you in here again." He then pointed at me. "I hope this was not something of your doing...Mr..."
"Michaels, sir. Carter Michaels. No, they, were just about rea..." suddenly I stopped, knowing that if I ratted on those two, sooner or later they would make my life a whole lot worse, so I stopped and changed the course of what I was going to say. "...ready to leave but I asked them about... how to get ketchup out of my shirt, sir," was all I could think of to say.
"Okay Mr. Michaels. Well, you had all better hope that was the truth. There is zero tolerance for fooling around in the boys' room, and you know what I mean. I don't think that is a label you want to carry with you your four years here at Harlem. So you had better do that on your own time, not here at school."
I was upset by what the teacher or whomever he was had just said to me. On one hand, he saved me from blowing those two again, but got it all wrong in thinking that I had initiated it. Crap. What a great way to start the year. Labeled as being gay already. I hate my life.
U.S. History, my next class, went fairly well. I didn't mind history, but of course since I had gotten my tee shirt dirty and had to button up my other shirt, it was really hot in the class and I almost fell asleep. My friend Emma kept nudging me from behind, hoping that I wouldn't get a detention the first day of school. Emma and I have been friends since second grade, and it was so nice to see her again. She had spent the entire summer at her grandmother's house in San Antonio and was very tanned. We had texted a few times over the summer, and I had kept track of her Insta pics, but we never did get a chance to talk. Emma and I were almost the same size and height, but her long straight black hair was of course, different than my short, straight, blonde hair. She is thin, and is nicely developed for a girl, if you know what I mean. I've kind of felt all along like she has always wanted something more than just friends from me, and I'm afraid one of these days she's going to ask me what is up with me, why I'm not interested in her. It's not easy at all because if I wasn't into guys, she'd definitely be the first girl I'd date.
As soon as History class was over, I had to leave the room quickly to find my next class, Social Studies. After that class it was P.E., the last class of the day. Emma walked me to the Social Studies class then headed on to her Science class, which was only a few classrooms further from my class. We decided that over Labor Day weekend, we would hang out and catch up on what happened over the summer. She always wanted to know all the details of what was going on in my life, and I guess since you could say that she is my best (girl) friend, she knew quite a bit about me, but not everything... Luckily, I got to Social Studies on time, and found a seat along the wall just as I walked in the door. It was the third seat, and my only hope was that the teacher would allow us to stay in our seats and not make us sit in alphabetical order. There were only about four or five students in the class, mostly girls when I got my seat, but then one by one the class filled up. The teacher had not yet got to the class and looking at my schedule it looked like it was going to be a Mrs. R. Murphy. So, you can imagine my surprise when in walked the guy I saw on the bike path with his young son that Sunday afternoon while I was crying at the shelter house in the park. I think his name was Mr. Olaffsen, or something like that. Since I lost his card, I couldn't remember his name. Now I was just praying that he wouldn't remember me. I started to get really nervous.
"Good afternoon class. My name is Mr. Olsen. I know you're expecting Mrs. Murphy to be your teacher today, but it just so happened that Mr. and Mrs. Murphy's first child decided to spoil her first day at school, as he was born this morning. So, for the time being, you'll have to put up with me. Let's go ahead and see who all is here, and then I'll tell you a little about myself."
As Mr. Olsen began to take attendance, I felt ready to throw up as he made his way through the alphabet of last names. Certainly, he was going to remember me. Now he would know my name, and say something like "Oh yeah, you're the kid in the park who was crying like a baby. Is everything okay now, little guy?" It's like I could already hear all of the kids laughing at me, making me gather my things and run out of the class.
"Carter Michaels?" he said my name in a calm voice.
"Here" I raised my hand waiting for the worst as he glanced over to find me. "Great, Carter. Welcome to class." That was it. He moved on to the next person, Ian Montgomery, or something like that. All that worry for nothing.
"Parker Nelson?" I glanced over to my left, two rows over to see the guy named Parker Nelson raise his hand and tell Mr. Olsen he was here. I recognized this kid from another class, or in the hallway or something. All I knew is that he was...okay, I'll say it, cute. He was wearing a pair of khakis like mine, looked like a blue Cub's jersey with Rizzo's name on the back, white ankle socks and a pair of blue Asics running shoes. His tussled brown hair with blonde streaks was longer on the top and short on the sides, and his black metal rimmed glasses accented his dark eyebrows and brown hair...perfectly. I would not like to think that he saw me looking at him, but as the person next to me, Abbie Smith, or someone like that raised her hand and said `here', Parker's eyes met mine and then as quick as our eyes met, we both looked away. Busted, I thought to myself. Thankfully, he made no expression as he looked away.
The rest of the class was good. Actually, I liked the way Mr. Olsen was teaching the class. Until he gave us our first homework assignment: To write a short paper, five paragraphs at least discussing what we thought was the biggest social problems facing our school, city, state, and even the country. It was going to be due in a couple of weeks. It was going to be a part of a monthly assignment that would be separate from what we would be studying in the textbook. All too quick the bell rang, and the class was over. I slowly grabbed my backpack, and then realized that I had to get back to my locker to grab my gym bag and to then get to P.E. class. As I walked down the hallway trying to make sure I took the right turn to get to where my locker was, I realized that Parker Nelson was in front of me. I wanted to go up and talk to him, but I just couldn't -- too shy, of course. Several students passed him saying "Go Cubs!" to which he gave a thumbs up as they walked by. When he stopped at his locker, I realized my locker was only eight or ten lockers further. I put my backpack in, grabbed my gym bag, made sure I had my lock and started walking to the gym. I started to get nervous again because I hated gym.
As I walked through the door to the gym, I noticed that the coach was telling us to take a seat on the bleachers. I walked up about four rows, looking for anyone I knew, but didn't see any seats near some of the guys I remembered from 8th grade. I did see Javy, but he was with some of his soccer friends again. I sat in an open area on the end of the row, hoping that maybe the guy from Social Studies would be in my class and choose to sit by me. I kept looking at the door where the other kids were coming in, and sure enough, in he walks. He was surrounded by some bigger guys, and he didn't look like he was sure of what to do. But he did follow them up to the bleachers, only to sit two rows down and directly in front of me. Still lost in my thoughts again, I was stuck in a blank stare at the hardwood floor of the basketball court when this big fat kid sat down next to me and started to tell me how much he hated gym.
"Dude, I'm like almost out of breath just climbing up the bleachers. I wish we didn't have to do gym class. What do you think?" He was wearing a black tee shirt from a rock band I have never heard of, with worn jeans that were dirty and had holes in them. His shaggy, sandy blonde hair hung over his brown plastic rimmed glasses, and he judging by the redness in his face, he was clearly not used to exercising at all. I figured I'd better reply to him. Never know, he might be a good guy to have on my side just in case.
"Yeah, I hate it too. I'm always chosen last for teams, and I'm not at all good at sports. I'd much rather have a study hall or even take another math class."
"Dude, I get it. I'm trying to talk my Aunt into getting me an excuse from my doctor. I live with her and my Uncle, but they think I gotta lose some weight so that ain't happenin'. I'm Tony, but you can call me Big T." By now I just wanted to get up and move to another seat, because this guy was starting to be a little weird. I agreed with his Aunt and Uncle but didn't think it would be a good thing to tell this kid, because I'm sure he could crush me if he sat on me. I introduced myself as Carter, and just as I said my name, thankfully, the coach told everyone to be quiet and another coach began taking attendance. Soon attendance was over, and the coach then gave a thirty minute speech about fitness and what we would be doing this year in P.E. I kept looking at my watch, and as it finally reached 2:50 pm, I knew my first day of school was drawing to its close.
Once the bell rang, we all stood up and walked off the bleachers. Big T kept talking to me as we walked out. I guess he needed a friend, so I just kept listening to him ramble on about cars and motorcycles as we walked back to the freshman lockers. He stopped at his locker and I kept going to mine, hoping to see Parker still at his, but he was not there. I unlocked the lock, then grabbed my backpack, put my books in, put my gym bag back in the locker, closed the door, locked it, and headed out the door to the buses. Since mom had to be in early for a meeting, I had to ride the bus. I hated riding the bus almost more than I hated gym class. But I found my bus, number eleven, and followed the line of three kids that got on before me. Luckily, I found one empty seat on the right side of the bus, took my backpack off, and sat down on the dark green vinyl seat. I was looking out the window at the kids walking up to the bus and to my surprise saw Parker walking up to my bus! I was also surprised as heck when seconds later Big T sat down next to me, almost crowding me into the side of the bus.
"Hey dude! We're on the same bus! Where do you live?" I really didn't want to tell him exactly where, but did tell him over by Martin Park, by the bike path. "Nice dude. I live down by the apartments near Shorewood. Do you know where that is?" I replied that I did, with little enthusiasm in my voice. "Dude, maybe you could come over sometime." As I looked out the window to see Terrell and Connor walk towards the bus, I replied with regret to Big T that yeah, that would be good. Thankfully, the two idiots didn't see me sitting next to Big T, and they moved all the way to the back of the bus. I had enough of those losers earlier today.
Finally, the bus was loaded, and the bus driver stood up to let us know that he was sure he knew where our stops were, but if he missed it let him know so he could stop right away. I had just hoped that Big T would get off the bus before me.
No such luck. As the bus rambled south on East drive, I was surprised to see that Parker got off the bus on the corner of the East Drive and the street that went back to some really nice houses along the river -- the east side of the river. As the bus drove away, it looked like he was still walking further down the street to the quiet end of the street where the nice houses were located. As we reached River Lane and East Drive, I had to yell at the bus driver to stop, as the actual stop listed on the postcard sent to us at home about a week ago was that intersection, mere feet from where Dylan got in the accident with the car back in June. Big T had to get up out of the seat for me to get off the bus. "See you tomorrow, dude." I just gave him a little wave and got off the bus as quick as I could. As the bus went by, I heard either Terrell or Connor yell "fag" out the window of the bus.
It felt good to get home. I missed being at home during the day, and even though the house was quiet, it was so good to be home. Mom had her meeting and then would be working the night shift again. She did leave me a note saying that there were some beans, rice, and carne asada in the fridge and that I could heat that up for dinner. She also told me to behave, get my homework done, and to not leave the house tonight. It was such a nice night, and since I didn't have much homework to do, I did think about going for a quick bike ride. I would text mom after dinner to see if she would let me go out for just a little ride.
I finished all of my math and English homework quickly. The social studies project homework didn't look too bad, and it wasn't due for another two weeks, so I left that for later. While I was eating my dinner, I got a couple of texts from Emma, and we exchanged messages for a few minutes talking about how our day went. It was good to be back in contact with her. She was one of my really good friends. Of course, she sent me the selfie she took of the two of us and made sure to comment on just how cute the both of us looked together. Sigh...if only she knew.
I texted Mom, but did not get a response, so with about an hour left before the sun went down, I took my bike out and headed north on the bike path. The sky was clear, no wind, and a few boats were cruising up and down the river, their loud motors drowning out the sounds of birds along the path. Going past table rock, Dylan suddenly came into my mind. I did not see him at school, but since he's a junior, he was in a different part of the school. I did think that maybe I'd see him when I went to first hour Spanish class, but that wasn't the case. Like Javy, he would be at soccer practice right after school.
Thinking about Javy and how his day went, I wondered if he would get moved up to the varsity soccer team and would Dylan and his friends try to block him or treat him fairly. Then as an opening in the trees along the railroad tracks exposed the huge houses on the east side of the riverbank, the kid named Parker came to my mind. Which house was his? Did he live in the house that had a huge teepee in the back yard? I turned back to look straight ahead on the path just in time to avoid hitting a couple who were walking their small black wiener dog, who began barking ferociously at me as I whizzed past.
As the path emerged from the forest and ran along the south side of the soccer fields, my eyes scanned the teams of young grade school kids playing on the three fields I passed. There were parents sitting in their foldable chairs cheering and yelling at their kids, while other family members looked like they were bored to tears waiting for the games to be over. Soon I was riding past the two empty baseball fields and was on my way to the circular trail that went around the lake at the park district office. When I reached the top of the trail and the park bench that offered a nice view of the lake, I stopped to drink some water, check my text messages and to just drink in the view of the placid lake and its surroundings on this peaceful early fall evening. I hadn't been there for more than two minutes when I heard voices approaching me from the left. It was my social studies teacher with his son again, and as much as I tried to not look at him, he saw me and both him and his son stopped their bikes. He spoke first.
"Oh hello, how are you doing tonight? You're in my social studies class, right? You're Carter, right?" I cautiously replied that I was, and he continued talking. "Well, I hope you enjoy my class. It's been few years since I've been in the classroom, but I have taught social studies for almost ten years. I really enjoy the subject, but like counseling much better. If I remember correctly, you passed us here a week or so ago, correct?" I nodded that I had, and I was ready for him to bring up the incident where I was bawling my eyes out by the shelter house in Sportscore. But he didn't, which was a relief. "So how did your first day of school go? I know it can be a difficult and scary time for incoming freshmen.
"It was okay, but I was a little intimidated." I openly replied, just a little apprehensive.
"But just remember that even though my schedule is a bit busier due to teaching this year, I am the freshman class advisor and am a good listener, so if there is anything (he put emphasis on anything) you need, please don't hesitate to ask, okay? You enjoy the rest of your ride. Max and I had best continue our nightly ride. See you tomorrow in class!"
"Thanks, Mr. Olsen. See you tomorrow," I replied back. Just like that him and his son rode off. His words were comforting, and as difficult as it is for me to trust adults that I don't know, he seemed nice enough to maybe trust and that I could talk to if things at school get out of hand. As decent as my first day was, my fears of being tormented at school would probably become reality soon enough.
The ride back home was great. The sun was inching closer to setting over the horizon when I rode past the small pond between the baseball and soccer fields. There were several people fishing on the shores of the pond, and several groups of Canadian geese honking along the shores as well. I took out my phone and took a selfie with my back to the river as I stood on the eastern shore of the pond, my face being illuminated by the setting sun. I texted it to Emma and my mom, as well as updated my Instagram page. My smiling image reflected my good mood, and as my bike ride ended, and I put my bike in the garage, the sun had now set and my first day of school was officially over.
I took a nice hot shower, got my clothes ready for tomorrow: the same pair of khaki shorts, and this time a blue Cubs t-shirt (would it be too obvious?). For a bedtime snack, mom had some bagels and cream cheese for me, so of course I ate a toasted cinnamon swirl bagel with cream cheese and a glass of milk while watching television. About 8:30 my eyes could barely stay open, so I brushed my teeth, and crawled in bed. Even though it had been nearly a week since I'd jacked off and two weeks since Dylan was with me, I was too tired to jack off. As I was just about ready to fall asleep, I got a text from Dylan.
< HEY CARTER-MAN, SORRY FOR THE LATE TXT HOPE U HAD A GOOD FIRST DAY AT SCHOOL. THOUGHT U'D LIKE TO SEE THIS PIC.
Attached was a pic of the freshmen and sophomores who got moved up to the varsity soccer teams. There were eight guys, one of them was Javy, smiling, his right arm around the guy next to him, his left arm on Dylan's shoulder, Dylan's on his. I responded to him with...
< CONGRATS TO EVERYONE!
Dylan responded with... < THANKS. U NEED TO COME TO OUR GAME THIS THURSDAY AT HOME AGAINST AUBURN. MISS SEING U...(sad emoji with a tear in its eye).
< I MISS U TOO. WILL TRY BUT NEED A RIDE. MISS U 2. G'NITE.
With that, I drifted off to a dreamless sleep until...
...sometime in the middle of the night. In my dream, Javy and me were at the park kicking the soccer ball around. Javy was wearing his black soccer shorts, black and white soccer shoes, and was shirtless. His tanned, skin was glistening with perspiration in the late afternoon sun. I was mesmerized as always by his nearly perfect upper body -- six pack abs, strong pecs, and biceps, and his muscular back as well. He was smiling at me, and told me he'd made varsity, but only had one more thing to do to make the team. He told me to follow him, that he needed my help with something.
We walked across the field to big main fieldhouse where the restrooms and showers were located. As we approached the men's restroom and locker room, I heard voices and laughter inside. Javy opened the door, went in to the right and we were now in the locker room that was just as big as the locker room at my grade school. Inside were a few of the varsity soccer players from the high school team, and Dylan. All of them had their shirts and soccer shorts off and were just wearing jock straps. Three of the players grabbed their towels and headed to the showers, but one of the players, whom I think was named Isaac, stayed with Dylan.
Dylan introduced Javy and me to Isaac, whose straight dark black hair was long on top and short on the sides. Isaac was about as tall as Dylan, but he had a thinner upper body and strong, muscular legs. Dylan introduced Isaac as the captain of the soccer team and would have to approve of Javy being on the team. In order to do so, Javy had to get on his knees and suck on both Dylan and Isaac's dicks, naked. Javy had a confused look on his face, but as bad as he wanted to be on the varsity team, he knew this was a rite of passage he would have to endure. He faced Isaac first, since he was the captain. Isaac lowered his jockstrap to reveal a full dark bush of pubes, a long dick that wasn't as thick as Dylan's, but was not circumcised. His balls were barely visible due to the dark black pubes that surrounded his full sack. At first Javy hesitated, but Isaac grabbed Javy's long, curly black hair and pulled his head into his crotch. Javy almost gagged, but soon got used to Isaac's size, and before long was taking him deep in his mouth. It didn't take long before Isaac moaned and held Javy's head tightly against his crotch and forced Javy to take his entire load in his mouth, which Javy had no choice but to swallow. I almost felt bad for Javy, but then I remembered the times that he was with me and felt that he got what he deserved.
Next it was Dylan's turn. I was totally turned on and I could feel my dick just as hard as it's ever been, the precum wetting my boxer briefs just as if I was peeing myself. Javy was now on his knees in front of Dylan. As Dylan lowered his jock strap, His beautiful, huge, curved dick that I knew all too well was now in Javy's face. Dylan instructed Javy to suck on his hairy sack, sucking on each ball in his mouth, then licking up the shaft to his dickhead. Just as soon as Javy was going to move his tongue back to Dylan's balls, Dylan instructed him to take his dick in his mouth. Javy eagerly did so, sucking him with the same intensity that he sucked Isaac. After a few minutes, suddenly Dylan pulled out of Javy's mouth, and motioned for me to come over and join them. I almost pointed at myself in disbelief, as I was just about to take my own dick out and finish myself with my moist right hand. But Dylan had other plans. He instructed Javy to follow him to the wooden bench in front of the lockers, where he told him to bend over. Dylan pulled Javy's shorts and underwear down, exposing his tight, virgin hole. Remember, Javy had only sucked and fucked me; I had never been allowed to be inside him. Dylan then instructed me to get in front of Javy and told Javy to start sucking me. Just as Javy was about to take me in his mouth, Dylan's saliva lubed dick burst through Javy's hole, causing him to almost scream out in pain, but instead he chose to take me into his hot, wet mouth, moaning each time Dylan thrust his dick deeper inside Javy's tight hole. I was trying to enjoy every moment, and didn't want to cum. But since Dylan hadn't cum recently either, on about his twentieth stroke, his body tensed, and he pulled out of Javy's hole and unleashed a huge load all over Javy's back, with one or two shots even hitting my face. I eagerly scooped his hot semen off my face and licked it off my fingers, not wanting to waste a single drop of his tasty cum. At the same time, Javy increased his tongue and sucking action, which proved to be more than I could handle. I could sense the wave building from deep within, and with no way to stop the enormous amount of cum that was going to crash on shore and flood Javy's mouth, I unleashed one of the largest and most intense loads of cum into my shorts as I suddenly woke up from the deepest, most sensuous wet dreams I've ever experienced in my young life so far.
The mess in my underwear was massive. I couldn't believe how much I'd cum from the wet dream. Still somewhat asleep, my skin was wet with perspiration, and the sheets where I had been sleeping were damp as well. It was just about 1:30 in the morning. Mom wouldn't be home for another five hours, so it made the most sense to go hop in the shower to clean off. The thought of Javy, Dylan and Isaac naked fooling around with each other got me hard again and before I knew it, I was stroking my dick, desperately needing to cum again. Sure enough, about five minutes later my dick got really stiff and shot three long strings of cum on the wall and floor of the shower. Now I was getting really tired, so I shut the water off, dried myself off, threw the towel on the floor in my room and crawled into bed naked, falling asleep almost immediately, this time with a huge smile on my face.