“Damn, it’s huge!” I heard a voice exclaim. Immediately I shot up and wrapped my towel around my waist. When I saw who made the comment, I was stunned to see my locker partner, Jeremy Hendricks, staring profusely at my semi-hard dick. He was black and Latin mix, short, about five two and stocky built with a hi-top fade. There was this strange smirk across his face when he looked up at me. He saw that I was freaking out, even though I hadn’t moved an inch since I shot up, so he chuckled and said,
“I’m sorry bro, did I wake you?”
“What the fuck you mean? Someone could’ve heard you!”
“Ain’t no body in here, Junior. Calm down.”
“Calm down? You fuckin lookin at my dick! I ain’t into that faggot shit man!” I yelled as he stepped into my face. I was breathing hard out of fear, anger, embarrassment and pleasure.
“I didn’t say you were.” Jeremy whispered.
I broke out in a sweat as he slowly grabbed my crotch area and before I knew it, he had kissed me. I’m talking, serious tongue action on my lips and all over my neck. I was breathing hard from pure pleasure now as he gently dropped my towel and was stroking my dick. So many things went through my mind at this time. Was this right? It felt right. Was I going to be kicked off the team if anyone found out? Abruptly, there was a slam in the distance and we both jolted in different directions. After that, I never spoke to him again and the next day I changed locker partners. On graduation day, he tried to talk to me, but I pretended I didn’t hear him and walked away. I regret being an ass like that because he didn’t do anything to me but confirm in me what I already knew. The University of California, East Bay accepted me and my sophomore year there I heard that Jeremy had died in a car accident back in Jackson. I would never forgive myself for not apologizing to him before he left the earth.
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