Gym Shorts Part 2
by Inkling

copyright 2003 by Inkling, all rights reserved

youliketowatch@yahoo.com

* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY.  It contains
explicit  depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If
you are not of  a legal age in your locality to view such
material or if such  material does not appeal to you, do not
read further, and do not  save this story.
* * * * *


When Al came to school the next day, he was wearing gym
shorts.  His pale white legs, lightly covered with hair from
the knees down, felt cold and conspicuous among the long
pants and skirts that the other kids were wearing.  In that
sense, Al's experience was very similar to Betsy's the
previous day.

But the previous day, neither Betsy nor most of the other
kids had known what was in store.  In that sense, Al's
experience was completely different: *everybody* knew.  All
through the morning classes, boys grinned at him or patted
him on the back sympathetically.  Girls leered at him
carnivorously.  Lucy Donaldson walked up to Al while he was
at his locker, stood up on her tiptoes, and put her hands on
his shoulder.  She blew a warm breath quickly and gently
into his ear.  A shiver went down Al's neck.  Neither of
them pretended that Lucy had suddenly developed an affection
for him; she was teasing him, and looking forward to the
afternoon with unbridled lust.

Al's discomfort mounted throughout the day, until the final
bell signaled the end of school.  Now came the time Al had
been dreading: the half-hour wait for the bus in the
playground.  This was the time when Betsy had been truly
humiliated yesterday, and Al had no doubt that the same fate
awaited him.  But he was in for another surprise.  Al's
mother drove up almost immediately, honked her horn, and
yelled "Come on in!"

Al ran to the car, relieved but confused.  "What's up, Mom?"

"I'm taking you to the mall.  Don't you remember?"

"I didn't know anything.  Did you tell me this?"

"No, I talked about it with Susan's mother.  She said the
two of you were going shopping together."  Al's mother
leaned over conspiratorially, completely misinterpreting
Al's look of confusion and terror.  "I remember dates at
your age.  Don't worry, hon, I'll drop you off and get out
of the way."

Just at that moment, Susan sauntered up winked at Al. 
"Aren't you going to open the door for me?"  Al's mind was
spinning, trying desperately to catch up with this new turn
of events.  He found himself opening the door, watching
Susan climb in, and then climbing in after her.  They were
silent all the way to the mall.  As they got out of the
car--Al holding the door for Susan again--Al's mother called
out "Have fun, guys.  I'll pick you up in an hour!" and sped
off.

Al turned to Susan, thinking he would finally get some
answers.  "What's going on?"

Susan ignored the question.  "Put your arm around my
shoulder like this," she said.  "We're on a date, remember?" 
She began walking into the mall, and Al followed.  Suddenly
Al felt Susan's hand on his ass.  He started to turn to
speak to her, but Susan spoke quietly first.  "Don't turn,
just keep walking, please."

"But what..."

"Don't talk, Al, honey.  I didn't bring you here to talk. 
Keep your arm up around my shoulder."  Susan kept walking
forward through the mall, apparantly knowing where she was
going.  Al walked straight ahead with her, trying to ignore
her hand resting on his ass.  But it wasn't just resting. 
She was groping, kneeding, grabbing, her hand moving firmly
around his back while her face remained serene and innocent. 
Anyone looking at them from the front would have seen
nothing unusual.  Anyone looking from the back would be
shocked, if nothing else, by how unsubtle she was being in
public.  Al felt the blood rushing to his face in
embarassment.  He did not turn around.

As they walked, Susan kept up a remarkable stream of inane
conversation.  "The mall seems awfully crowded today, don't
you think?  I just can't believe this weather we're having. 
Oh, look at that baby, isn't he cute?"  But when Al
attempted any reply she shushed him immediately.  "You just
walk, darling, that's all I need you to do right now."  She
led him up the escalator, across the food court, and into a
clothing store.  "A friend of mine works here, I told her
I'd meet her this afternoon and introduce you.  Oh, there
she is.  Charlene, oh Charlene, I'm over here!"

Charlene was a tall black girl, a few years older than Al
and Susan.  She was helping a customer, so Susan parked Al
by the cash register to wait.  "Lean over here on the
counter with your elbows, that's a good boy, now just rest
your chin in your hands, OK?"  Al did what he was told, no
longer even attempting to reply.  Susan faced out away from
the counter, but continued to grope his now-upturned ass
obscenely with her hand as she talked.  Finally, Charlene
finished with her customer and walked up to greet them.  She
paused, obviously surprised by the bizarre scene of a boy
being publically felt up in the middle of a clothing store.

"Hi, Susan.  What have you got there?"

"This is Al.  Say hello to Charlene, Al."

Al began to straighten up, but Susan grabbed his neck and
pushed it back down.  Her tone was as light and friendly as
ever, but her hand was firm.  "I didn't ask you to move
quite yet, just say hello to my friend."

"Hello, Charlene."

"Hi, Al," said Charlene, apparantly as much at a loss for
words as he was.

Susan, on the other hand, was at no loss.  "So I started to
tell you, Charlene, about what happened in French class the
other day.  There I was, paying perfect attention to the
lesson, when all of a sudden the teacher..."  The next ten
minutes were among the strangest Al had ever experienced. 
Susan and Charlene chattered away in a perfectly normal
high-school-girl conversation.  Susan sounded confident,
bubbly and giggly as usual; Charlene sounded more awkward,
sometimes losing her train of thought.  But neither of them
mentioned the fact that during the whole conversation,
Susan's hand continued to roam freely around Al's backside. 
Finally, it seemed, Charlene could no longer stand the
tension.

"Susan, would you rather have this conversation somewhere a
little more private?  We have a changing room in the back we
can use, with a curtain."

Susan didn't miss a beat.  "Why Charlene, that sounds
lovely!  Lead the way!  Come this way, Al."  The two girls
immediately started walking; Al stood up and followed,
untouched for the first time since they had entered the
mall.  They walked into the dressing room, and Charlene
closed the curtain, which came down to their knees.

As soon as the curtain was drawn, Charlene turned to Susan. 
"What on Earth are you doing?  Who is this guy?"

As usual, Susan did not respond to the question.  Instead
she asked, as if it were the most natural thing in the
world, "Would you like a feel?  Turn around and face the
wall, Al."

If the previous, casual conversation had been strange, what
followed now was infinitely more humiliating.  Charlene
dropped all pretense of conversation.  She grabbed Al's ass
with both hands and began to rub it much harder than Alice
had done.  She moved a hand between his legs, reaching up
almost to his crotch.  Susan waited, silent for the first
time, while Charlene grabbed and pushed.  Finally, Charlene
looked up and said "I don't know how you do it, honey, but
you got a good thing going."

Susan smiled sweetly and spoke almost in a whisper.  "You
like him?  I thought you would.  I like him too."  She
leaned over Al and kissed him gently on the cheek--so
tenderly that Al thought his ordeal might be over.  But just
as quickly, Susan leaned back and resumed her usual casual
tone.  "OK, Al, now take the shorts off."

Al turned around and stared at her, uncomprehending.  He had
half-suspected, half-hoped-for, and half-dreaded this
moment.  But deep down, he had not really believed she would
ask it.  Not here, in a changing room with a total stranger.

"Look, Susan, I..."  He could not think of anything to say,
so he just stared at her, hoping he had misunderstood. 
Susan continued as if she were asking him to lend her a
pencil.

"Take the shorts off, Al.  You saw how they were getting in
our way, didn't you?  And the shirt too, I don't see any
point in you wearing anything right now."  Al continued to
stare blankly.  He could not bring himself to do it, nor
could he bring himself to argue.  Susan, for the first time,
seemed unsure of how to handle the situation.

The stalemate was broken by Charlene.  Advancing quickly,
she took her palm and began to rub Al's swollen penis
through the shorts.  Al gasped audibly and fell back against
the wall, closing his eyes.  Charlene rubbed firmly and
quickly, and then...just as suddenly as she had started, she
stopped.  Al was left humping the air for several seconds
until he opened his eyes and saw that she had backed away. 
Charlene's face looked intent and just a tiny bit angry. 
"You heard the girl.  She's in charge here, right?  You lose
the clothes, before we have to cut them off."

Al took off his shirt.  Then he sat down on the bench and
pulled off his shorts and underpants together.  He had a
raging hard-on, stiffer than he could ever remember.  He did
not attempt to cover himself.  Susan and Charlene did not
attempt to hide their stares.  But Susan smiled.  "Thank
you, Al.  Now turn around for us, please, very slowly."  Al
did as she requested.  Neither girl touched him as he slowly
presented, first his back, and then his front again, to
their unblinking stares.

Compared with her earlier advances, Charlene was suddenly
timid.  She reached over with one finger and gently prodded
Al's penis.  Al's entire body shuddered, and both girls
giggled.  Then Susan did the same.  Suddenly Susan reached
down and grabbed Al's penis, hard, in her hand.  And
then...she just sat there, not rubbing, not hurting him,
just holding his stiff penis firmly.  The feeling was
indescribable, a mix of humiliation and longing. 
"Please..." begged Al.

For the first time, Susan did not chastise him for talking. 
"Please what?  What is it you want?"

Al could not answer--he did not know if he wanted her to
stop, to leave him alone, or to keep holding him, or to rub. 
But his body betrayed him.  Slowly he began to rock back and
forth, a motion that brought no satisfaction at all because
she did not loosen her grip.  Susan watched with...certainly
not lust.  Amusement?  Contempt?  Al couldn't tell.  Then
she turned to Charlene and said "I think he wants something,
don't you?"

Charlene picked Al's shorts up off the floor and laid them
carefully across the changing-room bench.  "Come here, hon,"
she said.  "Kneel down on the floor in front of the bench." 
Susan released her grip and Al obeyed.  "Over here, hon. 
Straighten up your back. Now grab the bench with both hands,
that's it."  Once she had him where she wanted him, Charlene
grabbed Al's penis and put it on top of the shorts.  Then
she leaned back, slapped him on the ass, and said "OK, now
hump."

Al began to rub his penis over the top of the shorts.  It
was maddening.  Only the bottom of his penis was touching
the pants.  In any normal condition, he would have found the
sensation mildly annoying--certainly not pleasurable.  But
his penis was so hard at this point that any touch was
enough to send him to the edge.  He closed his eyes and
rocked back and forth, slowly at first, and then more
quickly.  As he rocked, he felt Charlene's hand grabbing his
ass hard, her nails digging into his flesh as she pushed him
back and forth.

Suddenly his breath began to come in gasps.  Susan and
Charlene moved aside and watched.  Al was no longer obeying
instructions, his body had completely taken over.  He
humped, he rocked, he gasped, and then he screamed: one
short, punctuated cry as his cum shot out against the wall. 
For just a moment, his entire body relaxed.  Then he
remembered where he was.  His eyes shot wide open and he
looked at the two girls with horror...wondering what they
were thinking, wondering who else in the store had heard
him, and still not believing that he had really done...that. 
Not here, not now, not like that.

Susan and Charlene both looked down at him with expressions
of mild amusement.  Then Susan smiled at him and said in her
most nonchalant tone, "You need to clean up that mess and
come out pretty quickly, sweety.  Your mother will be
expecting us."  With that she opened the curtain, and she
and Charlene walked out into the store.  They did not close
the curtain behind them.  Probably, Al thought, they just
hadn't thought about it.