Part 144

As soon as I was outa Pop's sight, I stopped, and put on my shorts. It would've been totally neat to blade home in the buff, but Pop was right. I'd be in deep shit if I'd been busted, especially since I was out when I was supposed to be home in bed.

It was almost midnight by the time I'd climbed through my window, but I was feeling pretty amped. The fun of teasing Pop was still pumping adrenalin through my veins big time, so I decided to work out with the chest expander for a while to release excess energy.

As I went through the various exercises, and checked my naked bod in the full-length mirror, I thought about Pop watching me. There was a huge diff between him and my buds. If they'd been watching me, I'd have had a dozen tongues and lips licking and sucking everything in sight. But with Pop, it was like I was being admired rather than lusted after. It was as though he was some kinda expert who saw me in a different light… kinda like a work of art or something… a work of art that pissed in his sink. That was just so damn wild! The look on his face was totally fucking priceless! And yet, somehow, at the time, I knew I could get away with it. For some reason, I could do no wrong in his eyes. No. That wasn't quite true. But I had some kinda instinct that made me aware of the boundaries and limitations. I knew how far I could go to shock him, but not offend him. It was a fine line, but that made it all the more challenging and exciting. And I loved a challenge.

I wondered if he would admit to me later than he'd jacked off thinking about me. Nope. He wouldn't. Jacking was something older guys wouldn't admit to, especially not a dude like Pop. He was a bit of a rebel for an old guy, but he was still an adult like my mom and Andy, and there was no way that I could visualize those guys sorting themselves out… even if they did.

Was I a work of art? I asked myself as I studied my reflection after working out. What was a work of art, anyway? I'd seen paintings and sculptures that were supposed to be the dope, but that I thought were fucking lamo. Not worth a fucking dime. So I guessed what they said about beauty being in the eye of the beholder was true. So what was in Pop's eye? The prob was, if I'd asked him, he would've gone all fucking gooey, and clammed up outa embarrassment… and demanded another brandy. Then I suddenly realized something. Pop was scared of me. I frightened the fucking shit outa him. But why? What was it about me that was so damn scary? OK, I had muscles, but Pop had nothing to fear from them. It wasn't like I was gonna bash the crap outa the old dude. Nope. There was something else… something about me that made him uncomfortable, and nervous. I remembered how totally freaked he was when I hugged him… like he'd become a store mannequin. So that was the challenge. To get the old fucker to lighten up.

Next day at school, I got a chance to speak privately with Lindy during recess.

"So how's it going with Greg?"

"You should know… you're his bro."

"He doesn't tell me everything."

"Oh? What does he tell you?"

"Just regular stuff. Nothing personal."

"Yeah, right. If guys are anything like girls, he probably tells you everything. Anyway, we get along OK. Not like we're going steady or anything. But we have a cool relationship."

"Do you think I'm kinda scary?"

"Only at Halloween," she laughed.

"Serious. Do you think I freak people sometimes?"

"Yeah, I guess you do. You're kinda outrageous… like when you do all that rad stuff in front of the peep hole in the showers. Which reminds me, you haven't done it for a while."

"Don't wanna spoil the fans. So is that what makes me scary?"

"You can be intimidating."

"What's that mean?"

"You can make people feel awkward, sometimes. Or inferior."

"Inferior? Hey, I don't set out to make dudes feel inferior. What is this shit?"

"You don't mean to… it's just the way you are… totally confident… you test people… or maybe you're testing yourself to see how far you can go."

"Is Greg scary?"

"No. At least, he's not scary to me. Does he scare you?"

"Sometimes."

"Greg? You're kidding! He doesn't have an aggressive bone in his body!" she laughed. "How come he scares you?"

"I dunno. He's kinda awesome, I guess."

"More awesome than you?"

"In some ways."

"So you feel inferior. Is that what scares you?"

"Kinda."

"Would it surprise you to know that he feels the same way about you?"

"Don't gimme crap, Lindy."

"He's told me so himself. He said that you rock around like you own the whole fucking world sometimes. In fact, he was the one who used the word 'intimidating' to describe you."

"Greg? Said that about me? Yeah, right, Lindy. Pull the other fucking leg."

"You know what I think?"

"You're gonna tell me, anyway."

"I think guys are crazy. It's this competition thing that guys have. They wanna win, but they also wanna lose. They wanna be a hero, but they also need a hero."

"That's female bullshit, Lindy."

"You think so? So why do guys wrestle and stuff? Why do you and Paul race your BMXs to school? Why is it that guys are so into winners and losers? You know why? I think it's 'cause guys still have primal instincts about intimidating the rest of the herd."

"OK, smartie pants, how come Greg thinks that I'm intimidating, and I think the same about him?"

"It's all part of the game you guys play. You all strut around like fucking peacocks, but you're secretly worried about the other peacock, and whether or not he's better than you are. In other words, you have doubts about yourselves. Am I right?"

"About doubts? Yeah, I guess. Nobody's perfect."

"True… but you all pretend to be," she cracked. "But lemme tell you something else, Daniel. If you didn't strut around like you do, you wouldn't be Daniel."

"But you're telling me that it's all some fucking lamo game. That guys are full of their own importance. That it's all a load of shit."

"It's cool shit, though," she grinned. "Who's gonna take any notice of some guy who's hiding his light under a bushel?"

"So that's why I'm scary? 'Cause I strut around?"

"You can't scare anybody who doesn't wanna be scared."

"Jeez, Lindy, you talk total crap sometimes."

"Oh? So you think some guy who's about to jump out of an airplane isn't scared? Or that friend of yours, Kyle… you think he isn't scared when he's being swept up by huge wave that could nail him? Guys love to be scared… and they love to scare. That's the game guys love to play."

"Did Greg tell you about Pop?"

"Yep."

"Well he's scared of me. At least, I'm pretty sure that he is. He gets all fucking jittery every time I make a move. It's fun, though."

"'Cause you're intimidating him?"

"You think that's what I'm doing?"

"Sounds like it. Is it?"

"You think there's a diff between intimidating and teasing?"

"Yep. Teasing's about having fun. Intimidation is more about power for the sake of power."

"Do you think I'm a power freak?"

"No way, Daniel. You're not that smart," she cracked. "Anyway, are you gonna be in the showers after school?"

Following swim prac, when all the guys had gone except for Paul, I wandered over to where the peep hole was.

"What are you doing?"

"Gonna give the girls a show. Wanna join me?"

"Nah… I'll watch."

"Why don't you go into the girls' shower and watch them. I'd love to know what they do."

"Think they'd let me?"

"Ask."

When Paul hadn't returned after some minutes, I figured my ol' silver-tongue bud had talked them into letting him stay. Then I saw the plug being removed from the hole in the wall. Show time!

There was a certain thrill involved in knowing that I was being watched, while the audience was invisible. I bent down to peer through the hole, and saw an eyeball. Whose it was, I didn't know, but it also didn't matter. An audience was an audience.

I retreated a few steps, placed my hands behind my head, and thrust my hips forward, causing my seven inches to bounce. That got a pretty good response, 'cause I could hear the giggles and shrieks on the other side of the wall. Since the peep hole only allowed one gawker at a time, I bounced my throbber again, and again, so that everyone could get a good look at my bucking boy meat.

Then I placed my flat hands on the inside of my thighs, and drew them upwards so that my fingers lifted my balls. I moved a little closer to the hole, then began to stroke my stiff meat with one hand, while I fondled my hangers with the other. More shrieks from the other side of the wall. Woohoo!

I stepped even closer to the hole, and placed the head of my cock just inches away, allowing my fans to get a nice close-up view of my pisshole, while they were imagining a truckload of juice exploding from it.

Then, I about faced, and spread my buns to give them an eyeful of my rosebud. I wasn't sure if girls were into assholes in a big way, but what the hell. I could still hear lots of gasps and giggles, though, so maybe they were. That prompted me to use my hands to spread my ass cheeks even more, so they could see half way to my tonsils.

Hmmm, what to do next? Ah! I walked about twenty feet away from the peep hole, then turned to face it. I figured from that distance, they'd be able to see my whole bod. Then I began to walk slowly toward the hole, pausing at each step to thrust my hips, and cause my rock-hard meat to bounce and sway from side to side. Meantime, my hands were gliding over my chest and abs. Fucking hell! Those girls must've been creaming their panties by now!

When I arrived to within a foot or two of the hole, I began to jerk my boner for the big finale. "Stand clear!" I was so damn amped thinking about all those girls begging for a taste of my swollen cock, I blew a truckload within a minute, and sent most of my sticky boy juice straight through the peep hole, where I imagined the girls were fighting over who'd get to eat it.

I'd already dressed by the time Paul returned to the showers. It'd taken him quite a while, but I figured he and the girls must've been discussing my awesome performance.

"So what did the girls think of the show? Pretty hot, huh?"

"Not sure."

"Whaddaya mean, not sure? You were watching them, right?"

"For a while I was. I guess you made the chicks so fucking hot, they kinda took it out on me. They were all over me like a fucking rash! Sorry, dude."

"Sorry, dude? You mean…? What? I don't believe this! You mean they weren't watching me?"

"For the first five minutes they were. Then… well, y'know, they got kinda excited."

"Who blew you? Lindy?"

"She told me not to tell you anything."

"Damn! And they weren't watching my big finale?"

"Nope. Sorry bro."

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