Chapter 2

Nadir says, “Rex said not all girls prefer muscles. Let’s find out.” He takes off his shirt and so does John. Wow. There is hair and muscle everywhere. Nadir reaches over and pulls my t-shirt right off. I feel ridiculous standing between these two ripped dudes. Rex reaches into my back pocket and takes my cell phone.

Rex starts recording and instructs the three of us to flex and pose and put on a show. I set my second — now empty — cup down on the table and play along. We’re all laughing and it’s kind of fun. Rex has a guy I haven’t met yet run the phone up to the girls and instructs him to show the video to ten of them. He wants a report back on ten votes for a winner.

Nadir puts his arm around me, both of us still shirtless. “That was fun. You’re a good sport. I think it’s time to continue the measurements.” He moves me around and measures me everywhere from the waist up. When he gets my chest size, I get an inadvertent tickle in the armpits. When he does my waist, I get a poke in the belly like the Pilsbury Dough Boy. Rex continues to record all measurements.

I ask, “Can I put my shirt back on?”

John says, “Of course. A little later.”

I look around and I actually don’t see my shirt anywhere. I tell them, “I’m bigger than Bo.”

Rex says, “We’ll get to comparisons later, but in the meantime, we’ll call you Big Dude.”

These football players are all very handsy. I’ve been nudged and bumped and tapped and patted all over my body. And every touch makes the swelling in my crotch increase. I’m glad I wore jeans tonight. Any lighter fabric and my almost-boner would be obvious to everyone by now. Maybe this touching is just how football players are. But then I realize that they are not touching each other like this. Just me. Like I’m their play thing.

I notice Allan kind of dancing and goofing around shirtless with a few guys on the other side of the room. What is going on over there?

I’m sitting on the floor in a circle with Kevin, Dave and Ben. I’ve finished two whole cups of beer and I’m feeling pretty good. I was offered a third, but I said maybe later. I wanted to drink some tonight, but I don’t want to get drunk.

So far, we’ve been talking mostly about video games. It’s the one thing I have in common with these guys. I’ve shared a few tips and we’ve actually been having a decent time. Out of nowhere, Ben asks me, “So, what’s the gayest thing you and Allan have ever done together?”

I feel my face flush and a tightening in my jeans, but I give an honest answer, “Nothing.”

Dave says, “Oh, come on. It’s just between us. We’re just friends hanging out, talking. We won’t tell anyone. We know you have weekly sleepovers together. Something must have happened at some point. Tell us.”

“But it really hasn’t. Never.”

Kevis asks, “But you wouldn’t mind if something did happen.” It’s a statement, not a question. “It could be totally innocent. Do you two ever play wrestle?”

Ben says, “Or a tickle fight?” And suddenly he jumps and tackles Dave. He’s on top of him and squeezing at his sides as Dave howls in laughter.

Dave shouts, “Dude, you are so dead!”

They continue to roll around on the floor and Kevin and I watch and laugh. As Ben and Dave battle, I can’t help but notice that my jeans fill even more. Why?

Kevin asks me, “So, do you?”

“Have tickle fights with Allan.”

“We did just once.” Why did I answer that question? Where is my judgement?

Kevin asks, “Why did you stop after just once? Did one or both of you pop mini boners and get embarrassed?”

“It was both of us. How did you know?” Shit! There I go again.

He puts an arm around me, “It’s an easy guess. When you’re a teenaged boy, looking at pictures of head lice can turn you on, not to mention rolling around with someone and getting tickled. Are you still ticklish?”

“I don’t know. No one ever tries to tickle me.”

He slips his hand under my arm and digs a little into my ribs. “You’re missing out.”

I twist away from him and he says, “I guess that answers my question.” He holds his hands palms up, like a surrender, and slides closer to me again. “You like Lizzie, right?” His knee is touching mine and I feel a little jolt of electricity.

I nod. Dave and Ben are now done with their fun.

Dave says, “Lizzie likes sensitive guys. Are you sensitive Bo?”

Ben smiles, “That’s something we’re gonna have to put to the test.”

“I don’t think I…”

“Little Dude, this is going to be a whole lot of fun,” says Kevin with a wink.

For some reason, that wink makes my crotch tighten even more.

There seems to be a tickle fight going on over by Bo, but he’s just watching and laughing. The random guy with my phone makes his way back downstairs and has the report for Rex. “You’re never gonna believe this. John got one vote, Nadir got two votes and Allan got seven!” He hands Rex my phone.

I ask, “Can I have my phone back? And where’s my shirt?”

Rex slips my phone in his back pocket, “You won’t need it for a while. I’ll keep it safe for you.”

Nadir has a big stupid grin on his face as he fist-bumps me, “You won! See? Cute beats muscles.”

I blush again and again, my crotch swells.

John says, “Big Dude, how much do you weigh?”

My brain wants to say 150, but my mouth is incapable of telling a lie right now. “135,” I say.

Nadir chuckles, “Big Dude, there are guys here who literally double that.”

Rex says, “While we do lower half measurements, we’re also going to begin the next phase of the test. In keeping with the theme of comparing jocks to…not jocks, we’ll do smells next.”

Nadir puts his arm around me again, “Don’t worry Big Dude. You already won muscle round. Not in actual size, but the girls voted. You won 7 to 2 to 1. You’ll do fine in this round too.”

Suddenly, I’m being pushed down onto the couch. John holds my ankles and Nadir slides off both of my high tops. He says, “I just gotta check your size for our records.”

“You could have just asked me.”

“No worries, Big Dude. You need your shoes off for measurements and the scales anyway.” He bends back the tongue of my left sneaker and reads the label, “A perfect ten,” he tells the group.

Rex makes a notation, “Big Dude, besides you and Bo, I don’t think anyone else in the room is smaller than a twelve. But that’s okay. Man is not measured strictly by the size of his biceps or his feet. But we do need the tape measure. The way your shoes slipped off so easily, you might actually be wearing bigger than you are.”

John sits on my legs with his broad back to me. I’m trapped and I can’t see past him, but I feel both socks get pulled off. Hands are all over my feet, prodding, squeezing… It kind of feels good until I get a few tickle swipes up the arches that make me flail feebly behind him. I feel the tape measure getting pressed against the contours of my naked foot and Nadir declares me to be nine inches.

Rex makes a tsk tsk sound, “I’ll be generous and call you a 9 1/2. I knew you were wearing bigger than your size. You just like slipping in and out of your shoes, don’t you?”

Nadir says, “I think he thinks his feet are cute. When he walks in his shoes, his heels slip halfway out with each step. And these Osiris he’s wearing…the style, the colors…he wants to draw attention to his feet.”

Rex says, “Okay, we’ve got the size, now for the smell.”

John gets off me and he and Nadir each take one of my socks, put it to their noses and inhale deeply. Seeing these beefy guys smelling my socks has me at almost full-on erection. They both laugh and pass the socks to Rex. John says, “I knew it. There’s no smell at all. Nothing. Not even a little bit. If anything, they smell like fresh laundry.”

Rex sniffs both socks at once, smiles and agrees with his friends.

I don’t know why, but I find it embarrassing that I don’t have a manly funk. And the humiliation is turning me on. I try to defend my lack of stink, “Hey, guys, I took a shower right before coming here. I usually do stink. I just happen to be shower fresh right now.”

I’m still lying on the couch, shirtless and barefoot. John picks up my left foot by the ankle and says, “Big Dude, it like 95 degrees outside with 100% humidity. Even if you came over from next door, you wouldn’t still be shower fresh.” He shoves my bare foot right into his face and inhales so deeply, I think he might pass out. His stubble tickles. He tells his friends, “Nope. Nothing.”

Nadir says, “If it really was just from a recent shower, then your shoes would stink. Look at these shoes. They beat up and worn to hell.” He buries his nose inside my high top. “Unbelievable. They look like they’d stink, but they smell like nothing. Here’s another difference between jocks and other guys. The stink.” John breathes in my other sneaker and concurs with Nadir’s assessment.

John and Nadir each take off their shoes and socks. Nadir’s sock is shoved in front of my nose and smells like a locker room. It’s bad and good at the same time. A musky scent to be proud of. Next, I’m forced to take a whiff of John’s sock. It’s even stronger. It’s bad and bad. I cough.

A platter is produced and Rex lays out our three pairs of socks. He tells the same guy who did the shirtless poll earlier whose socks are whose and requests another poll. The guy disappears.

While we await the results, and since my shoes are now off, my official height and weight are measured and recorded. I am 5′ 9.5″ and weigh 134. The guy comes back with a platter of socks and says, “Allan — 2, John — 3 and Nadir — 5.”

Rex says, “Oooooh, sorry Big Dude, you lost that round. We leaned that the optimum manly scent falls somewhere in between nothing and the inside of a camel’s asshole.”

Rex and Nadir laugh as John flushes a shade of dark red. “Come on. I don’t smell that bad.”

Rex says, “Dude, your socks could be used as knockout gas before surgery.” I laugh too.

I ask, “Can have my shoes and socks back now? And where’s my shirt?”

“Later,” replies Rex. “After the test. Up next…the final measurements — inseam and penis length.”

I cough again, but this time not because of John’s rancid sock. “What?”

Nadir says, “The literal measure of a man.”

My erection firms even more.

Rex says, “Don’t worry Big Dude. We’ve already helped you out. The two beers you drank were spiked with little blue pills. You know the kind…for help with…woodies.”

John says, “But first, armpit sniffs.”

“When you say Lizzie likes sensitive guys, you mean emotionally, right?”

Kevin says, “No. She’s into tickling. But her time is valuable. She asked us to run some tickle tests on you and give her a full report. If you don’t pass the test, she won’t waste her time with you.”

“I can’t believe that-“

“You better not be calling me a liar.”

“No. Of course not. Maybe you misunderstood.”

“Oh, so I’m stupid? A big dumb jock?”

“No…I…” I don’t know how to fix this.

Fortunately, he laughs and gives me another shoulder bump, “I’m just messing with ya.”

It was true what I said before; I haven’t been tickled in years. But I suspect I’m ticklish. I’d rather not find out. Especially here in this basement in front of about fifteen other guys.

I say, “You know, I think I might get going.”

Dave puts a firm hand on my knee. “We’re not gonna hurt you, Little Dude. You saw me and Ben a few minutes ago. We were just messing around, having some fun. Neither of us got hurt. You have to trust us.”

Trust them to what? Not tickle me until I pass out? If this is the path to losing my virginity, I think I’d rather wait until college. “Look, guys I-“

And then they swam in. Six rough, strong hands all over my body at once. Dave grabs both of my wrists with just one of his hands and pins them above my head as I am laid on the floor. Ben straddles my legs facing my feet and Kevin peers down at me. With my arms pulled up over my head, my t-shirt has ridden up. I feel the airconditioned coolness of the room on my exposed skin — about a six-inch strip above my waistband, below my shirt. A devious smile forms on Kevin’s lips. “I call the belly.”