Jumbo (9 page)

“You could have borrowed a pair of mine. I’ve got a spare pair.”

Mitchell should have thought of this, should have thought of asking Jack, particularly, and if not him, then Luke. Tadd’s would have been too big for him anyway.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mitchell said.

“You know, Mitch, I’m real sorry about your dog. I didn’t mean. I mean — I just didn’t know. If I could have seen her there, I wouldn’t have ....”

“Yeah.”

“Pretty hard to deal with?”

“Yeah.”

Coach Marley brought out some kickboards and said they were going to work on their legs. He blew the whistle and hauled them all out of the pool. Mitchell had to stand there, as good as naked in his tighty-whities, because they were see-through when wet. He heard a couple of catcalls and whistles from the bleachers and he blushed.

Coach Marley worked them with the kickboards, making them do lap after lap of different kicking styles, and then, when that was over, it was time for medley trials again. Marley said they were going to go through the race three times, and he didn’t want any slacking off.

Mitchell slipped into the water and gripped the bar. When the gun went, he flew backwards and began to stroke, after fifteen or twenty strokes his tighty-whities were down to his thighs, and his hard little cock was sitting up naked for anyone to see. At the turn, Mitchell tugged on them, but as he started back toward the blocks again, his underwear slid down to his knees. In frustration, Mitchell kicked them off. And then he swam for all he was worth. Jack was ahead of him, and there was no way he wanted to lose his place on the team.

He hit the wall at the same time as Jack and Tadd reached a hand down to him. “I’ve got to grab my jocks,” Mitchell said. He swum back under water to where his jocks were, and then came up again, kicking sidestroke back to the blocks. Tadd stretched a hand down to Mitchell, and Mitchell said, “Hang on. I’ve got to put them on.”

Marley was standing there. “You might be better off without them,” he said. “It’s not like it makes any difference, Jumbo, and they are getting in the way.”

Mitchell threw the jocks at Marley’s feet, and then he accepted Tadd’s hand. Tadd pulled him out of the water like he weighed a pound, and then, inexplicably, Tadd had the back of his hand pressed against Mitchell’s cock, the same way that Mitchell had done to him a week back.

People in the bleachers were whistling and cooing and Mitchell blushed. He walked over to his towel and wrapped it around his waist. Marley was standing on his underwear now, standing on it like it was nothing and didn’t matter.

20

Mitchell swam the next two medleys naked, and he thought of reporting coach Marley as he came in for the third time. Marley had kicked his underwear out of the way, and it was covered with grime and dirt. Tadd pulled Mitchell out of the pool again, though by now Mitchell was beyond caring. He was so angry at Marley he felt like punching him.

“Wow, Jumbo. Look at the fucking time,” Tadd said.

Mitchell looked up at the clock and realized he must have done his best time yet. “Did you get what it was?” he said to Tadd.

“Sorry. No. I wasn’t concentrating. But man, you must have smashed it.”

Mitchell realized he was standing there naked with a boner. He had got so used to the feeling that he had almost forgotten about it. He walked over to his towel and wiped his face before wrapping the towel around himself. Tyler came in and Tadd flew off the blocks. They were way ahead of the other teams, and as Mitchell looked around, he saw Coach Marley looking at him, like he was assessing him. Not that Marley would say anything to Mitchell. No. He was too much of a prick for that.

When Mason came in they’d made a record time. Not just a record for them, but a record for the state. Marley was all smiles and patting the guys on the back. Mitchell went over and picked his underwear up, looking at the dirt and the stains that Marley had ground into it with his shoes. Hell, he’d probably never wear them again. As they were walking toward the showers, he threw them into the trash.

Mitchell opened his locker, half expecting — half hoping — to see another note, but there was nothing. He picked up his pack and looked under it, checking to see if the note had fallen down behind it, but there was nothing.

Mitchell frowned. He walked over to the showers and hung his towel up, and then he stepped into the corner where Tadd and Tyler were showering and waited to get under the water.

“You wash my back and I’ll wash yours,” Tadd said.

“What?”

“You soap my back and I’ll soap yours. Here, turn around,” Tadd said, grabbing Mitchell’s arm roughly.

Tadd began to soap Mitchell’s shoulders, swishing the soap around the back of his neck. He moved his hands over Mitchell’s upper arms, and then began to slide his hands down, soaping all over and sliding his hands down until he was touching the top of Mitchell’s ass. Mitchell felt like a kid, like a little kid who was being washed, but it sure felt good. Tadd ran his hands all over Mitchell’s back again, and then he said, “Your turn.”

Mitchell stepped into the shower, and as he did, he noticed the tip of Tadd’s cock standing up a little, like he had the beginnings of a boner. Mitchell let the water run over his back as he took the soap from Tadd. And then he started washing Tadd’s back. He had to stand on his toes to wash around Tadd’s neck properly, but he did it exactly as Tadd had done it, washing Tadd’s shoulders and his upper arms. Tadd’s back was enormous. Mitchell hadn’t really thought about it before, about how big Tadd was, but his back was a sheet of shifting muscles. Mitchell worked his hands down until he was soaping around the top of Tadd’s ass. He could see the soapy water sliding into Tadd’s crack, and then he let his hand slide further, letting it slide over one of Tadd’s ass cheeks. Man, that was firm.

“The Taddster’s got a bone,” Robby Michaels suddenly called out.

Mitchell moved his hands away, thinking it had something to do with him, but Tadd turned and put his hands on his hips. He had an enormous hard-on, which Mitchell stared at wide-eyed. He hadn’t thought anyone could have a cock that big. Tadd had his hands on his hips and was making thrusting motions, as though he was having sex, and all of the guys were laughing and calling out to him. Tyler turned around and bent over, slapping his ass. “Oh, do me — please Taddy.”

Tadd stepped forward and put his hands on Tyler’s hips; he thrust his cock forwards and backwards, though he didn’t actually touch Tyler.

“Oh, yes, Taddy. Oh, yes. You’re so big,” Tyler said.

Tadd let go of him and moved away. Mitchell jumped out of the shower so Tadd could get under it, and as he moved, he saw Tadd look at him in a funny way, looking at him as though he was thinking — what? Mitchell didn’t know.

“Sorry, guys, but I can’t help it,” Tadd said. He put his hand down and started pulling himself off. There was a chorus of groans and Ben slapped his hand on his forehead. Tadd’s cock grew even harder, and Mitchell stood rigidly in front of him, mesmerized by it. Suddenly, Tadd came, his cum jerking out of his body and spurting onto Mitchell’s torso, threading diagonally across his body, from one nipple to his hip. There was a second volley of cum, which spurted onto Mitchell’s groin, hanging off the end of his penis and stringing toward the floor.

Mitchell flushed with embarrassment. Tyler reached out and pulled on Mitchell’s elbow, pulling him into the shower so he could wash himself off. “I’m finished,” Tyler said, but the noise level in the locker room had risen till their voices were echoing.

“Did you have to?”

“Oh, Tadd man.”

“Tadd, you’ve got to be—”

“Did you see that?”

“Jumbo, you sure copped a load.”

Mitchell was hot with shame. He washed his chest with the soap, doing everything he could to wash Tadd’s cum away, but he couldn’t face the other guys’ eyes. Somehow he knew that he had liked it, that he had liked being come on like that, but if only it had been Luke.

Luke?

Mitchell glanced at him, but Luke was facing the other way. Then as Mitchell turned round again, he caught Tadd’s eyes. Tadd was looking at him like — what? What did he mean? Was he apologizing to Mitchell for what had happened? He seemed to be restraining a smile.

What a prick, Mitchell thought, as he turned his head away. How could Tadd have done that to him? Though as he lay in bed that night, Mitchell pulled himself, replaying everything that had happened in the locker room.

21

The following day at training, Sarah was in the bleachers again. Mitchell had to be thankful that she hadn’t been there yesterday, when he had been naked. The people who had come yesterday — most of them guys — were people that he didn’t know.

Finally, he got a day when he could practice on his backstroke, something that Marley seemed determined to keep him from doing, as though he resented Mitchell for being the only one who had won a state final, and wanted to keep him from doing it again. He did an hour straight of backstroke, having a lane to himself, and as he worked at it, he found a new rhythm, something that he thought would improve his times. It was just a matter of practice, a matter of finding what it was that made you go faster, and it required coordination.

They had one run-through of the medley at the end of the day, but all of them had spent the afternoon practicing for races they hoped to get into. The medley was a washout. The guys were so tired that the times were hopeless, and Mitchell had even let Jack beat him, figuring it didn’t matter one time, not when he was feeling so tired himself. Jack wasn’t doing well in the team. Aside from Ben he was the closest to being shut out of the meet altogether.

When Mitchell opened his locker, he was surprised to see a note. It was folded in half the way they always were, but Mitchell had figured Luke wouldn’t write to him again like this. They had had a long conversation at lunchtime, and Mitchell had been catching Luke’s eye, seeing a gleam in it. And there had been a couple of times when something had almost been said. Luke had actually said he had something to tell Mitchell, but that he didn’t feel like he could tell him yet. He thought Mitchell might get angry about it, he said, and even when Mitchell said that he wouldn’t, Luke still didn’t say anything.

“You can tell me,” Mitchell had said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Luke had hesitated.

“Just say it.”

At that moment, Tadd had come over and sat down beside Luke. And that was the end of that.

Mitchell dried his hands on his towel and picked the note up. Red marker pen again.

I want my dick in your ass, and your little cock in my hand. A reach-around?

Mitchell frowned. Why would Luke write that when he could just say it? And at that moment Luke came into the locker room. All the other guys were already in the showers, but Luke had been back at the pool, doing something, talking to Marley most likely.

“Hey,” Mitchell said. “Can we talk this thing out? When everyone else has left?”

Luke shrugged. “If you want.”

“I think we should.”

“Okay.” Luke smiled.

Luke pulled his speedos off and got into the end showers with Jack and Ben. Mitchell hesitated, reading the note through again. Was it Luke’s handwriting? It certainly looked like it. But then, had he ever really taken notice of Luke’s handwriting? He tried to remember what it looked like, but drew a blank.

He jumped into the corner showers with Tyler and Tadd.

“You want to watch out for him today,” Tyler said. “You don’t want another load of jism all over you.”

Mitchell smiled and Tadd laughed.

“Sorry,” Tadd said. “Really, Mitch,” Tadd reached out his hand and held Mitchell’s elbow. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m really sorry.”

Mitchell shrugged his shoulders.

“Here. Jump under here,” Tadd said. He stepped out of the shower and Mitchell got under. “Can you hand me the soap?”

“You want me to wash your back again?”

Tadd leaned forward and spoke into Mitchell’s ear. “That’s probably not such a good idea,” he said.

Mitchell frowned and handed Tadd the soap.

“I don’t know how you can have a boner all the time,” Tadd said to Mitchell, speaking in a normal voice. “I don’t think I could handle it.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to wear clothes,” Tyler said. “You’d have to strap the thing to your abs.”

Mitchell turned around and swished the water all over his body. He remembered how he’d pulled himself off last night thinking about Tadd coming on him. What would the guys think if they knew that?

“Mitch. Can I jump under again?”

Mitchell stepped out of the shower and Tadd hopped under. He started to rinse himself, and then, remembering, he handed the soap to Mitchell. Mitchell soaped his body, and then Tyler let him hop under his shower so he could rinse himself off. Really, Mitchell thought, Tyler wasn’t such a bad guy. He was pretty kind-hearted. Other than that thing about Mitchell jabbing his boner into his ass, Tyler had never given him any problems. Mitchell smiled at him.

“What does that smile mean?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking what a decent guy you are.”

“Shit. That came out of left field.”

“Yeah, but I mean it, Tyler. You’re okay — in my book, for what that’s worth.”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah, you’re not so bad yourself, Jumbo — except for when you’re jabbing your boner into my ass.”

Mitchell laughed. He glanced at Tadd and saw Tadd looking at him with a dark look. Tadd stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel.

“Oh, spare shower,” Mason said, walking away from Robby Michaels, who he’d got into the habit of sharing with, and jumping under the shower that Tadd had left, which rightfully should have been Mitchell’s.

“Here, Mitch, I’m finished anyway,” Tyler said. “You can have this one.”

“So, you get off on Tadd’s jism yesterday?” Mason said.

“What?”

“Have you been fantasying about having Tadd’s cum sprayed all over your body?”

Mitchell blushed and shook his head. Mason leaned toward him. “I know, Jumbo. So don’t think you’re safe. You’re a fucking faggot.”