Down For The Count Pt 02

Part 2

JOURNAL OF MARK PARKER

I awoke the next morning with the same problem that had plagued me the last few days. I could feel the dried, crusty . . . well, let's just say I released in the middle of the night again. Nighttime Emissions, I think is what they called it in health class.

I pealed my shorts off, threw them on my "laundry pile of shame", put some new pajama pants on and went downstairs. Mom and Carla had left a note saying they had gone shopping for the day and wanted an early start. I ate my breakfast then headed for the shower.

I was pretty excited because Abby texted me saying she would be coming home soon. I couldn't wait to see her. I fantasized about professing my love for her; I imagined running up to her, wrapping my arms around her perfect body, lifting her off the ground, kissing her on the lips and proclaiming in front of the whole world "I LOVE YOU, ABBY!"

I wouldn't do any of those things, of course, but I can pretend can't I?

While in the shower I started thinking about my newfound ejaculatory problem. Maybe there was something physically wrong with me. I've always been super-horny, but lately I was unstoppable.

How much cum can the human body produce? I wondered.

Even though I had just woken up after a night's sleep I still felt pretty tired. I was really in no mood to go to school, but what choice was there? While I continued my shower I concentrated on what I had been thinking before I fell asleep the night before.

I believed if I could just clear the fog out of my head, maybe I could figure out what was causing my new "laundry issue". That fog in my head was the thing scaring me the most. I seemed to be blacking out (in a way) while masturbating, and lately I couldn't remember my dreams at all. Usually I have vivid dreams and I can remember them very well when I wake up, even the really stupid ones. But since this whole thing started I couldn't remember any of my recent dreams, and yet I felt like I was dreaming a lot.

Then it hit me.

For just a moment, while standing in the shower a familiar feeling came over me.

Shower. Water. Naked. Wet.

My dream! These were parts of my dream last night! As I focused harder and harder I suddenly recalled the previous night's dream!

I was at school. We had just finished our swim meet and I was in the locker room. I was staring at the bench in front of the lockers while keenly aware of the other guys around me as they prepared for their showers. I didn't look at anyone, of course, but it felt like I wanted to. I say I wanted to meaning I didn't want to, but some thing wanted me to—some thing inside me.

That feeling made me very uncomfortable, as you can imagine, this is a good time to point out that I am straight. I'm not homophobic or anything, people feel what they feel, like what they like and love who they love—period end of sentence. I strongly believe that and I'm cool with that, but still wanting to look at your male friends naked? These are disturbing thoughts for a straight guy, right?

Next in my dream I began to peal off my Jammers. Nothing unusual there, however once again I felt the need to look down at my own body and watch as I stripped myself nude. In the dream I took great interest in looking at my own penis. Why I don't know, if there's one part of my body I know every inch of it's that one! And yet, I felt compelled, and even excited to see it. I looked at it as if for the first time. I felt so aroused looking at my own naked body as if I was seeing it through someone else's eyes.

Next in the dream, I was walking into the shower stall. Now along with our modesty in swimwear we also have our own shower stalls for privacy.

SIDE NOTE: This was actually a concern of mine when going out for the swim team. In movies I've seen a big open shower room with all the guys showering together and I really wanted no part in that. I guess I am shy like everyone says.

ANYWAY, here's where the dream gets really embarrassing. As I walked into the stall Abby was there. She was wearing that half-shirt from the Lifeguard poster and her nipples were poking through the ribbed material. I looked at her breasts as the water kicked on and gloriously wetted the white cotton making it transparent. Abby looked up at me and smiled. "Now you've seen mine, let me see what you can do with yours." She said. I looked into her lustful eyes, but even in the dream I could sense they weren't her eyes, they were someone else's. I felt as if someone else was watching me in the dream—a wolf in Abby clothing.

I started to feel nervous as I recognized in the dream it really wasn't Abby. But then something wonderful happened. The walls of the shower stalls fell away and I realized I wasn't in the boy's shower, I was in the girl's! All the hot girls from school were there and totally naked washing their beautiful, completely nude, wet bodies in front of me! I saw Ari, and Jane, Kelly, and Dara, all of them! There were boobs, butts and vaginas of every kind on display, shiny wet, hard eighteen-year-old bodies covered in soapy wonder! They looked at me and laughed—not laughing at me, but flirting with me, encouraging me to show them something.

I complied.

I began washing my body, feeling every curve and contour of myself, really exploring my nude form as if for the first time—I could feel it. It was one of those dreams where you can really feel the touching (a lucid dream I guess they call it). I looked down and studied my dick, as it grew hard. I watched my own fingers lift under my balls and I enjoyed watching my testicles roll around in my own nut-bag (poetic, right?).

I tightened my gut as I felt up my hard abs, I caressed my slightly muscular chest and tickled my erect nipples.

"Put your fingers in your mouth." The faux Abby said and the other girls agreed.

I slipped my fingers up and over my neck, under my chin and then into my mouth.

I savored the texture of my fingers in my mouth while remembering only seconds before they had been embracing my naked dick. I'm kind of ashamed to admit I that I "sucked" my wet fingers while picturing the swollen head of my own penis! I've never done anything like that in real life, but the Abby in my dream wanted me to so I did.

Abby and the other girls suddenly disappeared and I was alone in the enormous shower room, but I could still hear Abby's voice, "Yeah, suck it for me. Suck it for me, Mark!" She said.

Then I put my hands behind my back and arched forward, sticking my hard cock out in front of me, while rubbing my hands down my back and over my tight, round butt. I slowly pulled my butt cheeks apart and for a moment considered slipping my finger in my—

Then suddenly I heard voices, but these weren't the voices of beautiful naked women, they were the more familiar loud echoing voices I have heard many times in the shower room—they were of the guys. I looked up and to my horror I was in a large open shower room with all the guys from my swim team and we were all naked!

The scene in front of me looked like an old R-rated movie on regular TV. All the nudity was blurred. I could tell the other guys were naked, but I couldn't see anything else, as hard as I was trying.

Why the hell was I trying so hard? I wondered.

As I stood in my shower (in real life) remembering my entire dream I was exasperated at what the hell I must have been thinking in my subconscious mind to have a dream like this.

I'm not gay, really I'm not. I know I'm arguing that point too much that it sounds like I'm protesting too much, but believe me I'm really not gay.

Why was I having this dream then? Is this normal? Is this what happens when you're incredibly horny, do all guys have dreams like this? Or am I super repressed?

I didn't know, but I knew one thing—I couldn't wait for Abby to come back and return my attention to the female form!

Why the hell did I stop dreaming of showering with her? I thought.

Back to the dream. Since I couldn't see any of the other penises in the room, I suddenly took greater interest in my own. I actually began masturbating in clear view of everyone. Soon the other guys noticed me and started cheering me on as I jerked off in front of them. They were cheering the same way we do at every swim meet and practice. This public masturbation seemed to be simply another team sport! Only in this sport I found myself yanking my dick in a shower full of naked guys!

And I was REALLY into it—in the dream.

I was performing like a porn star—I was way over the top in my performance. I was grunting and moaning I was really hamming it up for the guys!

They all gathered around me in a semicircle as I blew my load right there in the center of their bare feet. The guys erupted in cheers and everyone slapped me on the back telling me how proud they were of me. Then I looked over at the far end of the steamy room and saw what felt like the real Abby (fully clothed) staring at me looking very disappointed.

And that was my dream. Fucking weird, right?

I snapped out of my trance and realized I was hard again!

"Oh, come on!" I yelled to no one in particular. I refused to indulge myself as I finished my shower.

That day at school was eternal; I watched the clock waiting for it to end.

We had a practice that night and I can't tell you how uncomfortable walking into the locker room was after the dream I had. I convinced myself it meant nothing, just the horny thoughts of a perverted eighteen-year old guy and nothing more. Now I have to admit, when we started undressing I did sneak a peek trying to test myself and I'm proud to report that as I caught a glimpse of Topher Grady exposing his bare ass I felt absolutely nothing. I did notice, however, how bad Topher looked. He really looked tired, worn out, sickly. I glanced at a few of the other guys and they seemed to be checking him out too. They must have noticed how sick he looked also, I thought.

Once we were out by the pool I asked Topher if he was feeling okay and he just looked at me as if in a trance, then nodded his head.

I looked around at the other guys again and noticed they all seemed to be looking at me in a weird way. I couldn't explain it, but everyone seemed to be acting strange as if they somehow knew what I had fantasized about in my dreams.

They know what my dream was! They all think I'm gay! They think I want to crank off in front of them, or crank them of, or . . . WORSE!

Then I realized I was just psyching myself out. Nobody was acting weird, I was just imagining they were. I was projecting my own personal weirdness onto everyone else. I took a deep breath and tried to be normal. Something was off with Topher, though; I hadn't imagined that part, that dude was acting weird. He had no energy and his usual athletic prowess was totally absent that night. For that matter so was Louie. He and I had been friends forever and although he seemed to act normal I could tell something about him wasn't right.

DIARY OF CARLA PARKER

Hey! It's me, Carla. I won't go into all the details because I think Mark is telling the story and he knows all the really juicy parts!

I'm just going to fill in the blanks for when he wasn't present. Or when he was, but from my perspective. Whatever, anyway—here we go:

My Mom and I were coming home from the mall when she asked me, "Do you think Mark seems funny lately?"

"No more than usual." I said.

"Does he seem a little tired, worn down?"

"I guess, I didn't really notice. He did tell me he's been a little more . . . active lately."

Mom looked at me confused. I made a jerking off gesture and she rolled her eyes.

"Not that. That's boys being boys. He just seems . . . off."

"He probably misses Abby. You know how he feels about her. Or maybe he's having a growth spurt or something."

'Well, keep an eye on him will you? I know he's more comfortable telling you things than me." She said and that's when I first started to consider that something really was wrong with Mark.

I went to pick him up after practice again and I was early so I watched the guys swim. As far as swim teams go they were pretty bad. I noticed there were only a few people present: a couple parents, some cute Goth guy standing in the shadows, and a couple girls who seemed very focused on Topher Grady and Louie West.

Louie was a cutie, but I knew him since he was a kid and he was almost like a distant brother so I wasn't attracted to him. For the record I wasn't attracted to any of them, they were like three years younger than I am, but still, their bodies were pretty hot . . .

That guy Topher for example was an Adonis! I smiled watching these girls watching him because I remember doing the same thing when I went to school here. Back then it was Ben Grady, Topher's older brother. Topher is pretty much the spitting image of Ben—and what an image they are! I had such a thing for Ben in high school and I remember fawning over his impressive body A LOT! Ah, the good old days. Back then the guys wore little Speedos and their bulges were more on display. And Ben Grady had a massive bulge!

P.S. From what I could see from Topher's Jammers it ran in the family! Compression be damned!

I must also admit to you that I checked out my Brother Mark, too. His package didn't seem as huge as Topher's or even Louie's, but he seemed to have a respectable showing. Where he excelled physically was his ass! My brother Mark has a perfect round butt—the kind that drives women crazy. I'm not a Perverted weirdo or anything, I just want to point out how great his ass is because I know Mark will read this and it will embarrass him! I can see his red face glowing now—

But I digress.

I looked back at the cute Goth kid and I saw him checking out a woman sitting by herself on the bleachers. She was the most striking woman I have ever seen. The word buxom doesn't cover it. This babe was built for one thing and one thing only. I'm not into women either, but I have to say there was something very exotic about her. She had a look like nobody I've ever seen. She could make a career out of modeling, but instead she was in our small town staring intently at the boys swimming class. This struck me as VERY odd. Like I said, it is a small town and everyone knows everyone, but I never saw her before. The Goth kid seemed mesmerized by her also, he stared at her for the longest time, watching her watching the boys, and then he slunk away into the shadows like some monster movie character. I continued keeping my eye on her as she studied the guys intently. Was she a helicopter Mom? She seemed to be about thirty to thirty-five; she certainly had to be a parent of one of them, didn't she? Or maybe she was just some Cougar in a small town looking to give the local swim team something to dream about.

But something about her made me very suspicious. She seemed like she was looking for something, waiting like a predator.

Anyway, practice ended and I expected to wait for Mark to finish showering but he came out of the locker room almost immediately.

"Wow, that was fast! You couldn't possibly have showered that quickly!" I said.

He seemed off, like Mom said.

"Well, I saw you here and figured you didn't want to wait, so I'll shower when I get home." He said and he obviously really wanted to leave. I glanced back and noticed the Goth kid was nowhere to be found and the Cougar Woman was looking around the room for someone. Then I noticed the two girls looking at us.

"Night Mark!" the one girl yelled.

"Goodnight Ari, Goodnight Jane!" He said.

That must be Ari Woodholm, and Jane Seward. I thought.

Like I said it's a small town, everybody knows everybody.

I was trying to get a good look at Mark to figure out what was wrong. There was definitely something wrong with him. He did look a little tired, there were dark circles under the eyes, and he just seemed confused or something.

I was just about to ask what his deal was when he got a text. Mark looked down and seemed instantly cured!

"Abby's back! Can you drop me at her house?" Mark asked.

I felt relieved for him, whatever had been troubling him disappeared with a text and I agreed to drop him off. In the car his leg was bobbing up and down, he looked like an excited puppy dog thinking 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'

I dropped him off and he barely thanked me he was so quick to get out of the car. Abby was sitting on the front steps and her own smile gave her true feelings away too. She stood up and walked over to Mark.

I half-expected them to run in slow motion to each other, but they simply stopped face to face and talked.

"Kiss her you Dick!" I thought to myself. But he didn't. Maybe someday he'll learn. I drove off.

More to come . . . (and yes, I meant that as a double entendre!)

JOURNAL OF MARK PARKER

Once I read Abby's text all my troubles fell into the back of my mind—all I could think about was seeing her.

I quickly walked to her. God, she was beautiful; I felt like I hadn't seen her in a lifetime even though it had only been a week. Her smile brought me back to life. I stopped short of hugging her though (like a complete idiot) as my sister drove away.

"Thank God you're back. I missed you!" I said.

"I missed you too, Mark. Thanks for all the uplifting texts you sent me, they really meant a lot to me!" She said.

"Is your Grandma okay?"

"Yeah, she's much better. My Aunt Lucy is staying with her for the next month or so while she recovers, but they said she'll be back to normal in no time." Abby said showing true relief.

I knew this was my chance, everything that I had been going through had caught up to me and I needed a hug more than ever. I moved forward and with a grace I usually don't possess I pulled her gently to me. Abby tightened her grip on me and we simply rocked back and forth in each other's arms.

I immediately felt calm, in control, back to normal—even better than normal.

Abby and I have been friends forever, this wasn't the first time we hugged, but this hug felt different, it seemed more important more—adult.

"I really missed you, don't ever leave me again!" I whispered in her ear.

I could smell the cleanliness of her hair; I could feel her warm body pressed against mine. I wanted to stay like that forever.

I pulled my head back to look at her and she kissed me on the cheek.

I was filled with an uncontrollable desire to lean forward and kiss her lips, to stick my tongue against hers and enjoyed the feeling of our lips embracing. I didn't, of course. I don't know what's wrong with me. I know I love Abby—I love her deeply, but I have this stupid thing where I feel like she's too good for me, or maybe that I want her to be left sacred while I fuck the shit out of meaningless girls. Abby was created to be worshipped not fucked.

I am sexually attracted to her, absolutely. It's just that, I don't know, sometimes I think porn has ruined my view of women. Sometimes I think that some women are meant for crazy sex and some for love. I know that's wrong, but still I feel that way a little. My Sister is right, I am a hypocrite. As much as I love and respect Abby in person, I then go home and masturbate intensely to a fake sexual fantasy version of her. It ain't right, but what can I do?

Why do I waste so much of my life hiding how I really feel?

Anyway, Abby and I walked to the park hand in hand. She told me all about what went on with her Grandma and then asked what she had missed. I considered telling her about my uncontrollable sex drive issues, about the gay sex dream I had, and about how in love with her I have been all these years, but I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Nothing really."

Then we noticed Ari and Jane walking toward us. They were walking funny as if something was wrong.