So, I know what you’re expecting. At least, I think I do. You figure that now, after my uh… conversation… with Avery, that everything just fell into place and I started fucking every guy on the football team. Looking back, I wish I could say that that’s how things went, but it wouldn’t be true if I did, and there’s no point in lying to you. You’re here to listen to my story as it happened, not some kind of made-up fantasy.
The truth is that, despite the fact that, in the moment, I was entirely into what I was doing, by the time I was driving home I was in a kind of crisis of identity. I was raised Catholic, which is by no means the most hardcore of the Christian faiths, and tends to take a more moderate (all things considered) approach to the modern world. The pope has even said that homosexuality isn’t exactly an abomination, and that everyone should be loved and not scorned. That said, being gay still wasn’t all that popular of an idea in the church, and certainly not in my house. At best, my parents (well really my mom, I don’t think my dad actually cared) felt sorry for “the gays”, pitied them, as though they were sick and just needed help (and Jesus) to get better. I myself never really subscribed to that way of thinking, but also knew that I, myself, was not gay, didn’t want to be gay, couldn’t think of myself as gay. It was fine for other people, but not me.
My straight-ness made perfect sense in the light of day, when I had my thoughts in order. I (intentionally, I later realized) had no explanation for the events in question, and kind of swept them aside as nonsense anomalies, actions that would never be repeated. At night, though, when lying in bed with the distractions of the day out of the way, my mind wandered, and wondered. I knew I wasn’t gay, knew that for sure, because I still was very much attracted to women. But… when I thought of Tom, and especially Avery, seeing them nude, fully exposed to me, I would get hard. When I remembered how they felt in my mouth, I would start jerking off. When I imagined them cumming in my mouth, I came all over myself. There was no denying, in the truth of the night, that I was into them.
Of course, that was impossible. Not as in “it could not possibly happen”, but that it was not possible, in my life as it was, to entertain, let alone act upon, such thoughts and feelings. As I said, my family’s religion simply wouldn’t allow for a bisexual son. Not that I had actually started using that word to describe myself. I wouldn’t -couldn’t- put a name to whatever it was that I was feeling, and simply filed it under “odd urges”.
These were my thoughts for the days that followed my encounter with Avery, these, and of course, what would happen if I refused the “offer”. I didn’t get a lot of sleep.
I still went to practice that week, but made no attempt to talk to Avery or Tom. They didn’t seem to be avoiding me, but didn’t really interact with me either. I knew there would be a deadline eventually; a point at which I had to agree and sign myself up for a ton of gay sex, or refuse and have videos of not only me masturbating, but also going down on another guy. I got a feeling that my time was running thin.
Frankly, my decision was really made for me and without my consent. There was no way that I could let those videos get out. The safer option was to just… just get myself in deeper, and to keep the secret safer than Fort Knox. By Sunday evening I had made up my mind, and also came to the realization that there would need to be some adjustments, to make all of this more… palatable to me. That evening, alone in my room, I started writing a list:
Requirements:
If I agree to this, you will guarantee me that no copies of the videos will be shown outside the team, and that no more will be made.
There will be no discussion of this arrangement outside of the team.
Better places than the locker room will need to be found, for comfort and privacy.
With the understanding that pain can sometimes be used erotically, there will be no injury caused to me.
I will have the right to refuse any act that I find dangerous or otherwise unacceptable.
If anal sex is expected, it cannot be requested until I’m ready for it. Any attempt to force me will cancel this whole deal.
So far I was pretty happy with this list. It ensured my safety, at least on paper, and safety was the most important. It also, though, wasn’t the only thing. If I was going to do this I had to enjoy it, or at least find ways to make it more tolerable. I tried to think of things that I’d want in return, things that were just because I wanted them, instead of to protect myself.
All participants are required to shower before any acts.
The sight of Avery, standing fully nude before me, filled my mind. His skin was so smooth, almost completely hairless below his shoulders. The way his cock and balls looked; hairless, clean, on display. I might have been pushing it, but I had to try.
All team members will remove body and pubic hair. That can either be constantly maintained, or done right before an encounter.
I had no idea if that would pass or not. At the time, it was basically expected that girls would shave their pubic hair, but was also becoming more acceptable for guys to do it as well. There was sure to be some pushback, but maybe with Avery’s help they could be convinced.
I tried to think of other things, other requests, but couldn’t think of any others at the time. For the time-being, I folded the paper my list was written on and stuffed it in my dresser, beneath my underwear, deciding that I would give it to Avery at the next opportunity.
_____
I didn’t have to wait long for that opportunity to come up. Practice was scheduled for Monday afternoon. All day, during classes, and then as I watched the players run drills and catch passes, I could feel the weight of my list in my pants pocket. It wasn’t just a list of demands and requests, but my acceptance of the role I was going to play with this team of guys. I was willing to be their bitch, their fuckboy, and I kept telling myself that it was only to save myself and my mother the humiliation of those videos. I knew better than that, somewhere deep inside my brain, but wasn’t about to admit it. I don’t think I had the mental capacity at the time to admit my excitement at what was coming, and attributed the feeling in my guy to nerves.
Practice ended early that day, by about a half hour. As the players left the field, I managed to catch Avery’s eye, and made my way to him. “We need to talk,” I told him under my breath. He nodded once, but that was it, and we parted ways once inside, him for the locker room and showers, me for the laundry and equipment room.
“You wanted to talk?” came a voice from behind me. It was all I could do not to jump out of my skin, though I managed to turn around slowly, carefully. It was Avery, of course, dressed in normal street clothes, his hair still damp from the shower.
I nodded. “Yeah, I do but… not here, OK? Somewhere more… “ I was going to say “private”, but thought that might suggest things I wasn’t intending. “… where people won’t overhear us?”
“Yeah, alright,” Avery agreed with a little grin. “You know that coffee shop just off campus?” I did, and said so. “Let’s go there. I’ll drive.”
—–
Looking back from the perspective of someone older and wiser than I was at the time, I now realize that accepting a ride from someone I barely knew, no matter how nice he had been to me, was stupid. I felt safe with Avery, though, and comfortable. I’d had his dick in my hand, for god’s sake, and mine in his. We… kind of knew each other, or so I thought. Nothing happened, of course, but it was still dumb.
The coffee shop was supposed to be very much not a Starbucks, although you couldn’t tell from the interior design. Same pictures on the walls, similar tables and seating, nearly identical menu. There actually was a Starbucks on campus, but students rarely went to it, something about protesting the corporate overlords. Instead, most picked up their coffee just off campus, on their way in or out. I, personally, didn’t care.
We picked a table off to the side and behind a corner, in a kind of cubby adjacent to the main … what do you call that? A dining room? It was late enough for the after-class bunch to have left, but too early for the ones going to night classes. We didn’t quite have the place to ourselves, but there was enough space between us and the nearest occupied table that we could talk freely if we lowered our voices.
“So, what’s up?” Avery asked after a minute, as though he didn’t know, and believed the conversation could be about anything.
“Well I… uh… I’ve been thinking,” I started, easing my way into talking, getting my brain into whatever mode it needed to be in to have this conversation. “About your… offer, or proposal, or whatever you want to call it.” I took a sip of coffee just to buy some time, thinking Avery might fill the silence a little bit. He said nothing. “I… have a list…” I said, sidestepping any definite statement of accepting or refusing. My hand went to my pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper, which I slid across the table. “I… those are… if I’m going to do this, I need certain things.”
At first, Avery just eyed the paper, not touching it. “Does this mean you’re accepting, then?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No… at least, not yet. Like I said, I need certain things, and I wrote them down. You… you all… would have to agree to them before I could uh… sign on.”
“Ben, are you nervous?” Avery asked, his eyes meeting mine. I gave a slight nod. He thankfully didn’t insult our intelligences by asking why, and instead nodded. He knew exactly why. “There’s no need to be nervous, Ben. Here, let me see your list.” His fingers grasped the folded page, then opened it. Avery read, I waited.
“I mean, I don’t see anything here that’s unreasonable. One might be a hard sell, but…”
“The hair thing,” I interjected.
“Yeah,” he said with a nod.
“I know,” I said, “but hear me out, OK?” He didn’t move exactly, but his body language and expression shifted so I could tell he was actually paying attention. “I know that, probably, a lot of the guys won’t want to. It’s not usually expected of guys, so we never do it. But…” and I could feel my cheeks starting to redden a little, “I mean, I was OK with Tom that first time. But… when I saw you, like… well like I said, I was -fine- with Tom, but I was -attracted- to… uh… to you. To what I saw.”
Avery didn’t move, still, but spoke softly. “It’s alright, Ben, nothing to be ashamed of. You’re attracted to what you’re attracted to, and that’s just how it is. Honestly, I think it looks better too. That’s why I do it.”
I tilted my head to the side a little. I wasn’t expecting that. “Oh, I figured like… you did it for swimming or something… or… for some other reason.”
“No, I do it because I think it looks good on me, and apparently you agree. I think it would look good on you too, actually.” The redness spread down to my chest at the compliment. “If that’s what you want, Ben, I’ll talk to the guys. Do you think, would trimming be acceptable? That might be easier to get them to agree to.”
I gave that some thought, and decided it might be. “Maybe,” I explained, “but I’d really prefer totally… uh… shaved, you know?”
“I get it,” he agreed kindly, and with a nod. “I’ll do what I can. Everything else seems perfectly fine though. I don’t think anyone will have a problem with those requests.”
“Some are demands,” I corrected. “Some aren’t negotiable.”
“I know,” he said, again with a nod. “I’ll take this to them tomorrow, pass it around, get them to agree, then I’ll strong-arm the ones who don’t want to play along. You’ll get what you’re asking for.”
“Thanks, Avery,” I said quietly, genuinely.
There wasn’t much more to be said on that topic, not until he and I heard back from the rest of the team. Instead we talked about the season, how he thought the team was shaping up, classes, just normal things, until we had both finished our drinks.
“I should probably get going,” I said after a brief pause in conversation. “I texted my mom to tell her I’d be hanging out with you after practice, but she’ll only hold dinner for so long.”
“Alright, I can drive you back to your car then,” Avery said agreeably, and we left our table.
Neither of us said anything for the first minute of the drive. Avery’s stereo was on, but low, enough that I could tell music was coming from it, but couldn’t identify the song. I was just staring out my window when I felt his hand on my thigh. I turned to look at it, then at him, but said nothing. When I didn’t protest, he slid higher, then again, eventually all the way up my leg. At one point I had to shift a little because I already felt the blood flowing.
I noticed after another minute that, while we were still moving, Avery had reduced his speed quite a bit. The campus was pretty far from any main roads. With only one lane in either direction, on a road that was never busy, the slower speed wasn’t a problem.
“Lean your seat back a little,” Avery instructed.
“Why?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“You’ll see,” he replied, although I was starting to think I knew what was up. I found the handle next to my seat, pulled up, then leaned myself back a few degrees. As soon as I did, his fingers moved to the button of my pants, deftly undoing it in a second. The zipper was next, and in only a moment, his hand went down my pants, under my boxers, his fingers stopping just above the base of my cock. “You know, if you want all of us to shave, you’ll need to do it too.”
“I… uh… yeah I know…” I managed to get out between breaths. “I just didn’t know if you guys would even… accept that condition…”
Avery’s hand slid lower, cupping over my engorged cock and my balls, holding the whole package. “Take them off,” he ordered in a soft voice. “This will be a lot easier for both of us that way. Just slide them down to your knees.” I nodded and lifted my butt, pushing my pants and boxers down. His hand stayed in place the whole time. Once I was done and sitting again, I stared down at his large hand covering my privates. Within moments, his fingers wrapped around my shaft and began slowly stroking.
I groaned at the feeling of his fingers on me. Avery’s hands were large, but gentle. He had done this before, and probably not only to himself. For a brief second, I wondered if the team’s star quarterback might possibly be gay, then decided that in the moment, it didn’t matter. All I really cared about was his hand around my hardening cock. This was perfect, if maybe a little dangerous, and certainly exhibitionist, at least to a point. Anyone could have looked into the windows, even though we were driving. Then suddenly, the perfection stopped.
It was nothing Avery did, nothing he said, anything like that, but rather my own mind wondering if any of this should be going on before there was any kind of agreement. Or perhaps this wasn’t part of that agreement, and amounted to nothing more than one guy getting another one off, without any formality. The thought was enough, though, to throw me off. “Avery…” I said softly, placing my hand over his. He stopped immediately at my touch. “Not… not right now, OK? It’s not that I don’t want you to, just… I don’t think now is the time.” He didn’t say anything, but nodded like he understood. His hand slid from my dick, then squeezed my thigh for a second, like he was letting me know that it was alright. When he was no longer touching me, I pulled my pants and underwear up, then straightened the seat.
“Don’t be mad,” I pleaded softly. “It’s not you, it’s…”
“It’s that this is a lot, and it’s entirely new for you, and you want to accept it, but don’t know how.” My eyebrows raised at his accurate and succinct explanation of my feelings. “I understand. I’ve been there. I didn’t want to accept it at first either, thought I was weird, different, wrong in some way. It took time, and it’ll take you time too.”
“When… when did you figure out you were gay?” I asked hesitantly.
“What?” Avery blurted, trying not to laugh. “Gay? Where did you get that idea? Oh. Oh because we jerked each other off a few days ago, and then now…? No, dude, I’m not gay.” That made no sense to me at all, and I said so. “That word, ‘gay’, it’s so… limiting. It means that a guy is only attracted to other guys, or girls to girls. Very rigid, very specific. I mean, some people are definitely that, but not me. I’m pan.”
“Pan?” I asked, unfamiliar with the word in this context.
“Pansexual,” he elaborated. “I’m attracted to all kinds of genders. There’s more than two, you know.” I nodded, although I wasn’t sure I agreed. “There are people who are born male, but realize they’re female. Trans people. There’s also people who are intersexed, and kind of take parts from both. There’s a whole spectrum, Ben, and we’re all on it somewhere.” I tried to absorb this information, this new viewpoint on sexuality. In my upbringing, in my house, there were males and females, and that was it. I knew the world was a bigger place than I had seen, and that there was much more to it, and really, the idea of multiple genders wasn’t entirely foreign to me, just… not something I was ever taught.
“So… what are you then?” I asked, curious. “If you want to say, that is.”
“Oh, I’m male,” he replied with certainty. “Entirely a guy, fine with how my body is, what parts I have, that kind of thing. I’m just open to being attracted to whatever another person might be.” He paused for a second then asked, “What about you?”
I had no answer. My knee jerk reaction was to say something like he had, to insist that I was decidedly a guy, a dude, and that this arrangement thing was nothing more than me trying to save my skin. I tried to say something like that, but the words failed. Instead, all I had was “I don’t know”.
“Not a bad answer,” Avery reassured with a nod. “Even that is a step. You’ll figure it out eventually.” There wasn’t much more I could say, and we were pulling into the parking lot where I had left my car. Avery pulled up next to it. “Look, I’ll go ahead and show your list to the guys and let you know what happens, OK?”
I nodded and got out of the car. “I’ll uh… see you later?” I said, leaning down so I could still see into the car. Avery nodded, gave a friendly wave, then I shut the door.
—–
“Hey, Ben, got a second?”
It was a few days later, Thursday I think. I was re-hanging the freshly washed and dried uniforms when I heard a voice and felt a hand on my shoulder. This time I didn’t need to turn to see who it was.
“Hey, Avery, what’s up?” The hand squeezed my shoulder.
“So I finally got around to everybody, showed them your list.” That had my attention, and now I did turn, looking upward toward the taller guy, noticing the knot forming in my stomach. “Some took a little convincing, but eventually they all agreed to your terms. You’re pretty much all set.” He was grinning, showing teeth.
“Pretty much?”
“Ah… yeah well…” the smile faltered but wasn’t completely dropped. “You see they uh… “ Avery held up a folded piece of paper. “They made a list of their own…”
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/pq6udh/the_equipment_manager_s01e03_mm_dubcon
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