Jeremy's Swimming Lessons

by Smokr

Chapter 11

I woke up when someone knocked on my door.

"What?" I asked, without rolling over or opening my eyes, wondering what the hell was going on.

"Time to get out of bed. Breakfast is ready," Dad said, without opening the door.

Talk about unusual.


It was really unusual for Dad to knock on my door and wake me up. Mom usually opened the door, flipped on the light, and called my name a couple of times, until I groaned or something so she knew I was awake.

I opened my eyes. I saw that I wasn't under any covers, was lying on my back, and was in only my underwear. I had a nearly painful erection that was as hard as hell, poking up, making a tent.

I also saw that it was a few minutes later than when Mom usually woke me up. I just knew what had happened, like it was something I saw on the television: Mom had come to wake me up like normal at the usual time, turned on the light with the switch by the door like normal, and saw me on the bed, on my back, uncovered, in just my tighty-whities, with a boner sticking up. She turned off the light and closed the door, and went and told my dad.

I felt myself blush like mad.

I didn't know how I was going to face them. I couldn't sneak out, because they would be in the kitchen, waiting for me to come down and have breakfast.

It was humiliating.

There was nothing to do about it. The best I could hope for was they wouldn't mention it, and we could pretend it had never happened. I got dressed, and forced myself to go downstairs.

"Morning, sunshine," mom said, about as normal as ever.

"Morning," Dad said, normal as could be.

"Morning," I said back.

"I had your father wake you up this morning. I think he will from now on. You don't need your mother waking you up anymore. You're... too old for that now."

She didn't look at me as I hurried through breakfast. Dad didn't either. It was the most awkward breakfast ever!

I was so glad to go back upstairs, get my books, and head out to catch the bus to school. Mike and Chris were normal. They had no idea. Things seemed so normal. But then I thought about Mitchell being in homeroom. And gym.

I got so nervous I almost couldn't walk! My legs just sort of went all numb. And it was hard to breathe.

Mike asked, "You okay, Jer?"

"Uh, yeah. Just remembered something."


"Forgot something."

"You said you remembered something," Chris said, looking confused.

"I mean, I just remembered that I forgot something. Homework."

I was sweating.

"Oh well, too late now," Mike said with a shrug. "Come on."

I had to walk. I had to act normal. Even if I was a homosexual. Even if Mitchell was going to be in homeroom.

Then I remembered that there was baseball practice after school. And Mitchell was going to be there too. And Chet and Howie. And other guys. Normal guys.

I barely put one foot in front of the other. I barely kept upright. I walked with them, trying to be normal. But I wasn't normal. We sat together and they talked. And I sweated.

Then he walked in.

Dark blue shirt, dark blue jeans, hair perfect, nice tan, sandy-blond-brown hair, eyes warm and shining, smiling so nice. Bulge in the front of his jeans, bulge in the back. He sat down with us. There was no way to avoid him.

"Hi, Jer, guys," he said, grinning that million-dollar grin.

They said hi back to him and smiled like normal. I was just barely able to nod at him. I started sweating even more. And shaking.

They talked, laughed, had a good time. I tried to be normal. I tried my best not to look at Mitch. Or hear his warm, slightly deep, sexy voice. Or his incredible laugh.

I was so glad when the bell rang, until I remembered that Mitchell was in my first class. He walked there with me. And then sat next to me.

He talked about baseball and math class. I tried to be normal, and not look at him. I think I did pretty well.

Then it was English Comp. I was so relieved! Tommy was a good friend, and it was easier to be normal with him.

Then it was history, with Katy. That was really uncomfortable. She talked to me before class. She was pretty. And very nice. I wished I liked her. I wish I felt for her like I did Mitchell. Until I remembered how it weird it was being near Mitchell. I didn't want to be that nervous around Katy. I wondered if I would be so nervous around her if I liked her that much. I wondered if normal boys got that way around the girls they liked.

Things were smooth again until gym. On the way, I started sweating. I hoped I could change and be in the gym before Mitchell got to the lockers. I ran the entire way. When I got to our lockers, Chris, Mike, Chuckie, and Bart were all getting started changing. We said hey, and we talked, and I rushed to change as fast as I could.

Just as I got my shoes tied, Mitchell came in. I was able to be gone before he got his shirt off. I was still breathing hard.

I saw Frank from the poker party. Seeing another homosexual in my gym class made things so much worse! He saw me later, and flashed a huge smile at me. He sort of waved. I couldn't even smile at him, and there was no way I could wave back. I felt bad, but... how could I?

The class was so stressful. Mitch, and Frank. One I wanted, one a homosexual. It was hell! Then I was at the lockers again, and the six of us were getting undressed.

I struggled, I fought, I resisted. But I looked. Just as he bent over to take his underwear off, facing a little bit away from me. His butt was terrific! So round, so full. The dark crease between his cheeks was... oh, God! And now I had an idea of what could be there. And just forward of it. Gawd! I looked away, already getting hard.

I did what Chet and Howie said to do. I thought about baseball and other things. We showered. I kept my eyes down. We got dressed. I peeked again. His bare butt was just...

He turned around as he put on his shorts. I saw it. Up close. It looked so...

I started getting hard. I got dressed as fast as I could. I kept my eyes in my locker. We went to our next classes.

Again, things went smoother. I kept thinking about Mitch, though. I'd think something else.

Then last period. And more Mitch. So handsome. And he walked out of class with me. He was going to baseball practice, too. I had been looking forward to baseball all summer long. But now, it meant being around Mitch.

We walked to the gyms and changed into gym clothes. I kept from looking at him as we changed. Out in the gym, I wasn't able to get away from Mitch. Chet was there too, and we acted like we had known each other all our lives. He was so attractive too! I felt so obvious! And uncomfortable. Mitch kept staying right next to me. I tried not to be mean or rude, but I tried to get away from him. But he just followed me around. I knew some of the other guys trying out, too, but nobody was as attractive as Mitch. Not even Chet.

There were about twenty freshmen going out for the team, and while the guys already on the team did skills and practice, the coaches worked us like dogs, wanting to make sure we were all in shape. Then they talked to us. All this week would be exercises. Running, stretching, sit-ups, jumping jacks, all the usual ones, and some endurance stuff. If we couldn't keep up, we'd be cut on Friday. Next week we would be out on the diamond, playing and seeing what we could do, and more cuts would be made. Then the coaches made us run. Running, running, running. Some guys puked. Mitch didn't. He stayed near the front, with Andy and Dale. Andy and Dale had been on track in junior high, so I wasn't surprised they were out front. But Mitchell keeping up with them was a surprise.

Then it was finally time to go home. Chet walked up to me, smiling, as Mitchell and me walked toward the gym to change.

"Saw you staying out front on the run, Mitch! Good job!" he said, then gave Mitch a slap on the back.

He said thanks.

"So, ready for your ride home?" Chet asked me.


"Good. Parked in the usual place. See ya there."

He jogged ahead to catch up with his senior friends.

"Wow, you know a senior? And get rides home with him?" Mitch asked, looking really awed.

"Yeah," was all I said.

I was nearly desperate to get away from him. We started changing, and I did my best not to look. He kept talking and I'd answer sometimes, so that it didn't seem like I was being mean. I hated the idea of even being a little mean to him. We walked to the showers. I couldn't help but peek as we showered next to each other. His body was so perfect. Lean and smooth, strong but not overly muscular, and tanned. And the things that dangled between his thighs made the same things on me go tingly, and one of them to start getting bigger. I looked away and thought about homework.

While we got dressed, I had to peek. My eyes were drawn to his buttocks. They were so... oh, God!

He made me feel so... I don't know! It was infuriating!

When we were dressed, I just sat there, afraid to spend another second with him.

"Coming?" he asked.

"No. Got a charlie-horse. Go ahead. I'll wait for it to go away."


He stood there for a couple of seconds and I worried he'd find some way to stick around. Then he said, "See ya tomorrow," and walked away. I sighed so hard it almost echoed in the locker room.

I put my face in my hands. There was no way to get away from him. He was everywhere. There was no way to get away from the things he made me feel.

I thought how easy it had seemed to deal with it before. I thought I would just keep it inside and it would be okay. But it wasn't turning out like that. He made me nervous. He made me have to think about what I was. And at school.

It was so hard not to cry. Right there in the locker room, with the rest of the team changing and horsing around. I was such a homosexual. A wimp. Pathetic.

I had to get out of there before I cried. Before Mitchell came back and saw me and it only got worse. I ran out of the locker room and straight for Chet's car.

As soon as I was inside, he asked, "So, I noticed you were acting weird at practice."

"Was I?"

"Uh, yeah."

He looked over at me, sort of giving me the eye. I felt like a complete fink.


Am I that transparent? I wondered - no, worried.

"Mitch?" I asked back, as if I didn't know who or what he was talking about.

"Yeah. You said you really liked him. Then today, you're acting dopey. I've never seen anyone so act dopey in my life."



I didn't want to talk about it. It was humiliating.

"Well?" he asked.


He pulled out of the parking lot.

"Did you talk to him. Find out anything?"


"Didn't, huh?"


He laughed a little again.

"Hard to do?"

"Uh, yeah."

It was horribly embarrassing.

"He's really good looking."

"Yeah," I said, almost whispered.

I really didn't want to talk about him. I didn't want to have to deal with how he made me feel. The only thing I could think of to talk about was Howie.

"Where's How?"

"Home by now. Why?"

"Just wondered," I said with a shrug.

"Don't want to talk about Mitch, huh?"

I looked over at him, wondering if he could read my mind or something.

"It's obvious," he said, smiling at me.

I felt myself blush. I didn't smile.

"Really got it bad for him, huh?"

I didn't answer.

"It's okay if you do. You said you do."

I didn't answer. I didn't want to talk about him. Chet was starting to make me mad.

"I know how hard it can be."

No he didn't. He couldn't.

"When I first saw Howie, I was so lost. He's so perfect. His hair, his eyes, his skin, how he laughs. And the way his butt looked in those gym shorts. And in the showers, oh, wow."

Maybe he is attractive, but he's no Mitchell, I thought.

"Everything about him was so perfect. Still is. He made me feel so... confused. And it really bothered me how much he... how I felt around him. He made me constantly think how I was a homosexual. I couldn't get away from that when I was around him."

Maybe he did understand.

"It was just so hard to deal with. And how he made me feel! It was so, frightening. Horrifying. Just... so powerful."

Yeah, maybe he did.

"I hated being around him. Not at first. At first I wanted to see him all the time. Talk to him. But then, when I knew what it meant, how I felt about him, then it was just... terrifying. And confusing."

Yeah, he did understand.

"Will you help me?"

I sounded like a small child.

"Sure. Of course I will. I'll help however I can. Just ask."

"I... I don't know."

I felt like a small child, too. I didn't know what to do. Or how he could help.

"I know when I was having that happening, that I wished someone could tell Howie how I felt. Or at least tell me if Howie would like me back. You want me to talk to Mitch? See what your chances are? If he's maybe interested?"

"Could you?" I asked quickly.

"Yeah. I could talk to him. Might take a couple of days. Or more. But I could get started."

"Could you? Please?"

"Sure. I'll start tomorrow."

I suddenly felt so much better.

"Holy cow, Chet, thanks!"

"No problem, Jer. I'm glad to help. You know that. With anything I can. All you gotta do is ask. Or let me know. Okay?"

He looked over at me, smiling that nice smile. I wished I still had it so bad for him. But I was glad that I didn't, because I didn't want to mess around with what he had with Howie.

I almost felt like crying with the relief. Chet hadn't done anything, not yet anyway, but just knowing that I had someone to help was a huge relief.

"You're not alone, Jer. Don't forget that."

I had. I was stupid to have forgotten that. I saw how I shouldn't have. I should have talked to him during the day, after knowing how weird I was getting about Mitchell. I'd been really stupid.

"Tomorrow, try to talk to Mitchell like one of the guys. That's all he is. Just relax. Don't let it bother you. He can't tell. No one can. Especially if you just go along and let it wash off you. It can't hurt you. It won't control you. Not unless you let it. Understand?"

I nodded. I had to wipe at my eyes. I wasn't really crying, it was just a little. He pulled me over closer to him by grabbing the shoulder of my shirt. I slid across the seat and let him put his arm around me. It felt really nice.

"Don't try to do everything on your own. When you're having some kind of trouble, you let me know. Or Howie. Understand?"

I nodded and sniffled. I rested my head on his shoulder. He hugged me tighter. We rolled down the road.

I slid across the seat before we got close to my house. When he dropped me off, Chet made me promise to tell him if I had some kind of problem again. I did. He tousled my hair, which he knew I hated, and I sighed and smoothed it down. I grinned, though.

I ate dinner, which was ready and waiting. My parents asked how I liked the team so far. I told them it looked like it was going to be tough, but I'd do my best.

After dinner, I got busy with my homework. I wanted to get it done so I could go play ball, but it started raining before I was anywhere near done, and it turned into a real storm.

When my homework was done, I sat at my desk and watched it storm. As the lighting flashed and the thunder rolled and the rain hissed down, I couldn't stop thinking about Mitchell. The feelings seemed even stronger today, and I worried they would be even worse tomorrow. And I regretted asking Chet for help. I worried he would spill the beans, and Mitchell would figure it out, and then he'd hate me. At first, I thought that might be good, because then he wouldn't sit next to me, wouldn't want to talk to me, and I wouldn't have to deal with him all the time. Then I realized he might tell others. And then there was the bad feeling I got when I considered Mitchell not liking me.

It was too confusing and conflicting, too overwhelming, just too much. I ended up wiping at my eyes and praying that Dad didn't come by and see me crying. I got so frustrated. I wanted Mitch to like me, but being his friend was so dangerous and difficult. I felt so trapped.

I took a shower, then dropped onto my bed and kept worrying. I made sure I was covered up this time. And I was in no mood to masturbate.

I didn't know what to expect tomorrow. All I could think of to do was what Chet had said: let it wash off me, don't fret over it, just let myself be normal, be relaxed, and keep my thoughts to myself.

I tossed and turned late into the night, before I somehow fell asleep.

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