Leaning on the everlasting arms.
What a blessedness, What a peace is mine,
Leaning on the everlasting arms.
The pack of naked players slowed, then stalled at the tiled entrance to the shower room.
Matt, near the back of the pack, elbowed his way through the sweat-slickened bodies, trying to ascertain why they could not enter the showers.
There at the shower entrance, his back to them, stood William, a towel wrapped around his torso.
William wriggled seductively as he reached a hand under the towel and removed his underwear. He held them up for all to see.
Matt’s teammates’ cocks sprung to attention, hard, bobbing, urging William to lose the towel, the sole article of fabric remaining on his skinny femme frame.
William slowly undid the towel, timing his motions with the rhythm of the student choir. He paused, then let the towel drop to the floor.
Matt strained to see William’s ass through the steam and the press of cocks and abs, hoping to glimpse William’s hole, a sight he had never beheld on any guy.
That was the last thing he remembered: a foggy vision of a peeking, pink hole, before he awoke from the dream, his boxer briefs and his sheet slick with emission.
And that was only Wednesday night. Two days and one night remained before his date with William.
Chapter 4: Fairy Godmother
Friday, August 11, 1995
As soon as soccer practice ended, Matt drove to Johnnie’s. It was 6:04 p.m. when he arrived.
He spotted William in the dining area. Who could miss him? He sat at a booth, ankles crossed, primly sipping a soda. He held his glass in one hand, while pressing the straw to his lips with the forefinger and thumb of his other hand.
Matt’s chest swelled with anticipation. He had waited a week for this moment.
He bypassed the order line, beelined between tables, and slid into the seat opposite William.
William appraised him with an arched eyebrow. “Looks like you came straight from practice, dahling.”
“Yeah, no time to shower,” Matt grinned.
He leaned back in the seat, resting one arm along the back of the booth, trying to appear nonchalant when he felt the opposite.
His hair was damp. He wore a sweaty jockstrap underneath his jeans. Moisture trickled down his balls and pooled near his ass-crack. He was certain that if he stood up, he would see a little puddle in the booth’s vinyl seat. The things he would endure to finally get laid.
But was he going to get laid? Or was this just another test related to that secret gay fraternity?
“Poor thing,” William said. “You must be hungry. I got you some food.”
He gestured to a plastic tray with three burgers, a bag of fries, and a soda. “Go ahead and eat. I hope you don’t mind, but I had them hold the onions. I can’t abide the taste of onions on a guy’s lips.”
“Thanks!” Matt tried, but failed, to suppress what he knew was a goofy,puppy dog smile—not because William had bought him dinner (well maybe partially for that reason), but mainly because he felt desired—by a guy. This guy. William.
A thought niggled in the recesses of Matt’s awareness, reminding him of that other time he had felt so desired. How he had been used and humiliated. He would be cautious this time.
He grabbed a burger and took a bite. He remembered something he wanted to ask, so he swallowed quickly.
“Why meet here? Why Johnnie’s?”
William picked up a fork, used it to probe the fries, searching for a perfect specimen. He speared one and took a dainty bite.
