At the School Saturday Morning

Dad drove his pickup truck onto the Hempstead High School parking lot on Saturday morning and I saw that there were no cars at all in that big lot. Dad pulled into a spot close to the front of the gymnasium which wasn't marked as private parking or handicapped and turned off the engine. He looked at me sitting in the passenger seat with the seatbelt holding me in place (I was proud to be riding like that instead of in a child safety seat in the back of Mom's car) and said, "Now, Son, remember that I'm expecting you to play safe and not cause any trouble here. I have to work."

"I'll be good, Daddy." I promised. I was with him because my Mom was taking my sister to the doctor and then visit her mother who lived near the doctor's office, so I was glad to be at an abandoned school. "I'll go into the locker room and wait until you finish with the gym, then I'll shoot hoops while you clean the rest of the gym."

"Good boy." Dad said. He believed in praising his children when they were good like I had just promised to be. "But if you find something laying out that shouldn't be there, like a class ring or a wallet or something...."

"I'll bring it to you." I promised. "So you can put it in the Lost and Found."

"Good boy." he said again. We walked into the gym (Dad had his own set of keys to the entire school and cleaned the gymnasium on Saturday mornings. The gym was open to people to use in the afternoons and Dad spent that time cleaning the classrooms. So when we walked into that big building with lots of hallway and rooms to each side and such, our footsteps echoed in the empty hallways and when we went into the gym, the quiet was even louder, if you know what I mean, I could hear my own heartbeat. "Men's locker room is over there." Dad pointed. "First door on the left. Right is the visitor's locker room for men. Go only into the left locker room."

"I promise." I said again. "I'll be good."

"I know you will, Son." Dad smiled and rubbed my hair fondly and patted my butt as I passed by him to go to the lockerroom.

I heard his scrubber turn on as I got to the lockerrom door and opened and went inside and as the door closed, the scrubber sound dropped to a quiet hum. I hummed myself a cheerful little song as I walked along the rows of lockers, looking around, just looking and thinking how all those strong young men had been in here all at once, and one day I'd be in here myself among them, laughing and talking and....

"Hey! Hello?" someone called out.

Startled I said. "Yes?"

"Where are you? Who are you?"

"I'm Kenny." I said, a little scared. I was supposed to be all alone in here. "I'm here with my dad, he's the janitor."

"Oh, thank God!" the voice was one of intense relief. "I need help, can you go get him? Please?"

Instead I followed the voice and as I turned a corner, I saw him. A teenaged jock maybe eighteen years old was lying on a bench. I saw he'd been strapped to the bench with duct tape that bound his legs and arms so that he couldn't get up. He was stark naked, too, and I was looking right up his legs at his dick and balls with his head above it, looking at me in distress. "What happened to you?" I asked.

"I'm Mark Devers, I transferred to school here from Pennington because my family moved here." he explained. His hair was a tousled glory of shining black and his eyes were a dreamy brown color, his face was square-jawed and handsome, his body was broad and muscled and the muscled flexed as he squirmed, trying to break free even as he talked. "My teammates did this to me yesterday at the end of Friday practice, just left me here and said they'd see me on Monday. I thought I'd be stuck like this all weekend. You have to help me, get your father."

"Okay." I said. "But why did they do this to you?"

"Pennington beat Hempstead in the playoffs last year." he explained. "We won because I scored four touchdowns." he semi-bragged. "Now I'm on their team and they were still kind of mad about it."

"Gee, that's bad." I commiserated. "I'll go get my Daddy."

"Wait." he said. "First, can you do me a big favor?"

"Sure." I said. "What is it?"

"I got to piss so bad." he mourned. "I was ready to pee on myself when I heard you come in. Can you get me a bottle to pee in and hold it while I go? Then go get your dad?"

"Sure, but where's a bottle?" I asked.

"My locker is number three eighteen over there." he gestured to his right with his eyes. "The locker is unlocked and my water bottle is in there. You can empty it and use it to let me piss in." His eyes pleaded with me. "Can you hurry?"

"Sure." I jumped over to the locker which was right beside him and I opened the locker and got the bottle. It only had a few ounces left in it and I said, "Are you thirsty?" I offered.

"Nah, just dump it."

I drank it instead and wiped my lips and unscrewed the lid. The opening was about four inches across and the bottle held about three pints, a big bottle, and it would work well.

I knelt by him and took hold of his cock. "You have a nice big dick." I mentioned.

"Yeah, but hurry." he said. I stuffed his cockhead into the mouth of the bottle and into it about two inches. That left four or five more outside and I held it steady. "Okay, go ahead."

His cock burst out a long, warm stream. I felt it flowing through his dick in my hand, all warm and rushing. The bottle was metallic and gave out a singing sound as the pee flowing into it. "Oh, God, oh, God, that feels so good." Mark sighed in his relief.

"You had to go a lot." I said as he kept on pissing. The bottle was getting a little heavy in my hand from holding it in place. "You might fill it up."

"I might." he sighed. "Oh, this is such a relief. "Ahhh, I'm done now. Thank you."

I set the bottle down on the floor and held his cock still with the other. "That's okay. When you have to go, you have to go." I was taking my chance to stare at his body up close. He was such a big, good-looking guy like you see in advertisements or movies all the time. Handsome stud, the girls would say.

"Uh, kid. I mean, Kenny? Can you go get your dad for me?" He said. I didn't move, because my hand still holding his dick felt it getting hard and stiff in my hand. "Please?"

"Sure." I said but didn't move. "Your wiener is getting bigger." I said. "A lot bigger."

"I know." Mark said. "It's ‘cause you're holding it. Can you let go and go get your Dad for me?"

"How big is it going to get?" I said, enthralled. It was like holding a ruler in my hand, only it was round and bigger than a ruler. "It's getting warm again, too."

"It's ‘cause you're holding it." he said again. "Come on, Kenny, let go of it and go get your Dad."

"You know the last time I felt someone's wiener hard like this?" I said instead. "I was sleeping over with Johnny and we got in bed and played with each other's wieners. It was fun and felt really nice. I liked it."

"I did that, too, at your age." he kind of gasped. "But you stop doing that when you get older. Please, let go."

"You mean it doesn't feel good any more?" I said.

"No, it still feels good." he admitted. "But...."

"It feels even better when your friend does this." I said and I moved my hand up and down on his long rod, making much bigger strokes than I had with Johnny that time. His dick was just so big, my hand moved like six or seven inches up and down as I pumped on him.

"Oh, jeez!" Mark gasped as I did it. "Kenny, what are you doing?"

"Making you feel good." I said. "Doesn't it feel good?"

"Yeah, but you shouldn't do that!" Mark grunted. "Oh, oh, jeez!"

"Don't you like me doing this?" I pressed.

"I like it a little too good." he groaned. "Please, Kenny, let go of me. Someone sees us, you won't be in trouble, I will. Please let go."

"But nobody will catch us." I said as I continued to jerk on him. Mark was kind of panting and squirming as I pounded on his dong. His mouth was open and he was wide-eyed as he watched me, a six-year-old boy, playing with his peter. "Dad's cleaning the gym, he'll be in here in about thirty minutes. Until then, we're all alone. Dad trusts me." I concluded proudly.

"Thirty minutes?" Mark was grunting and his willy was gushing out some clear liquid that was all sticky. His muscles were rippling as he squirmed and I saw them moving around like waves on the open water that time I had ridden on a boat in the ocean. Waves only get rough when they hit shore, in the open water, they just rise up and down gently like Mark's muscles. "You're sure he won't come in here?" he asked me.

"I'm sure." I said. "Daddy trusts me not to get into trouble."

"Oh, God!" Mark grunted. "I'm about to come. I'm going to shoot!" he moaned.

"Shoot what?"

"Shoot come. White stuff that will squirt out of my cock."

"White stuff."

"Oh, God, here it comes, you'll see. Oh, oh, oh, oh, AHH-AHH-AHHH-HUHHHH!"

I did see what he meant. A tremendous blast of white goo arced up out of his wiener and into the air about three or four inches then fell back onto his stomach. More blasts squirted up as I watched in awe. "Wowwwww!" I breathed. "This is awesome!"

"Oh, oh, oh, oh!" Mark gasped as his prick squirted out the last couple of spurts, but these were small and just kind of dribbled out and got onto my hand. "Oh, God, that felt so good! Oh, oh, jeez!"

"Wow, what was that?" I asked him. "What happened?"

"When you get older," Mark explained to me, panting, "your dick grows on you, gets bigger and when you fondle it or such, it gets hard and if you stroke it, it squirts out this stuff. It's called sperm, or spunk, or spooge, or come, or a lot of other words. Jizz, jism, that sort of thing."

"Wow." I said again. "You squirted a lot of jism."

"Yeah." He breathed. "It felt awesome."

"It was awesome." I agreed and stood up. "I should go get Daddy now."

"No, not yet." Mark said in alarm.

I looked at him. "Why not?"

"He can't see me with fresh spooge on my body." He explained. "He'll know what you did, and we don't want him to find out. You won't get in trouble, I will." he said again.

"I don't want you to get in trouble." I agreed. "I should clean you off."

"Yeah." Mark hesitated and said. "You know, spunk tastes really good."

"It does?" I looked at the bounty on his body. "Like candy?"

"It can be sweet." he agreed. "But mostly it's salty like potato chips."

"Wow." I said and was suddenly aware of the wetness on my hand still. I lifted it up and licked it off. "Mmm, it does taste good."

"Yeah." Mark said. "So why don't you lick it off me, I can feed you for jerking my peter for me that way."

"Gee, thanks." I was glad to do so. His goo was still warm and I lapped at his body which was clean and warm and Mark moaned as I flicked my tongue over his body. I licked from the top globs which reached to the bottom of his rib cage and worked my way down, the spunk getting more plentiful as I did so. By the time I got to his cock, it was standing up hard and tall again, a rivulet of sperm running down the shaft.

I ran my tongue up the length and as I did, Mark groaned, "Oh, shit, that feels good!"

"Want me to do you again?" I offered.

"No, not yet." he said. "Look, do you think you can get this duct tape off of me. Without your dad getting involved?"

"Sure." I said. Duct tape is easy to get off once you find where it starts and I soon had Mark free and rubbing his wrists.

"Oh, man, that feels good." he said. His cock was still hard and I stared at it.

"Want me to do it again now?" I asked.

"Not just yet. I need to put the monster away for a while." His eyes kind of glimmered and he said, "You want to give it a kiss goodbye?"

"Yeah." I said and I reached out and puckered my lips and kissed it right on its little mouth and got a gleam of sticky stuff as I did so.

"Mmm, I want more of this." he said. "But for now, let me get dressed then we'll find your father."

I watched as Mark pulled on a jockstrap and his cock was a pretty big bulge in it. He put on a shirt and then his socks and pants and shoes and stood up. "Okay, let's go find your father." he said.

Daddy was still working the buffer on the gym, he had finished cleaning it and was now giving it a clean shine. He looked up and was surprised. "Hello, there."

"Good morning, sir." Mark said. He explained that he had fallen asleep on the bench after a game and hadn't woke up until the early morning. He had sat in the locker room waiting for someone to come by. "I need to get a ride home." he explained. "My family must be worried about me."

"Where do you live?" Dad asked.

"418 Cedar Grove Lane." Mark said. "We moved there a few weeks ago."

Dad said, marveling, "Why, you're only three houses down from my house. "We live at 408 Cedar Grove Lane."

"We're neighbors!" I told Mark, delighted. "I saw your moving van bring in your stuff!"

"Well, that's great." Mark agreed. "I'll call my folks, and hang out here and you can give me a ride home after you finish your job."

"Sure." Dad agreed. "You can keep Kenny busy while I work."

"That'd be great." Mark said. "I'm going to try to find a vending machine and get something to eat and then I'll sit in one of the rooms with him while you get done."

"Sure and you and Kenny can play games." Dad agreed. "I was worried about him all alone today, but with you he'll have lots of fun."

"I sure will." I said enthusiastically.

"I'm sure, too." Mark agreed.

"You two go hit the vending machines and I'll finish up here and then I'll put you two in a classroom I won't clean until late afternoon. I'll call out for a pizza about one o'clock and we'll eat together. My treat, your payment for keeping my son busy today."

"Don't worry, sir." Mark said. "I'll keep Kenny so busy he'll be worn out by the end of the day." He looked at me. "Teach him all kinds of fun games to play."

"I bet he will." I agreed.

And he did.

THE END
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