Adrian

Adrian 5

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain 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.
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ADRIAN

by Willie B Florida © all rights reserved
comments welcome to [email protected]

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ADRIAN PART FIVE

Angie and Steve herded their two daughters ahead of them with the weariness of travelers who've endured the ordeal of air travel in America. Security lines were long, machines malfunctioned, and they'd missed their connector flight in Charlotte.

"I knew we should have gotten the direct flight," Angie moaned.

"But you're the one who wanted to save money," Steve replied.

"I know, I know. I just don't want to miss Adrian's game."

To top everything off Coach Simmons had texted them that the game was starting two hours earlier than expected.

"At least we only have carry-on luggage," Marie noted brightly as they navigated the crowds at Tampa International. Emma dragged her carry-on behind her on its tiny set of wheels and silently wished she'd listened to her mother and packed a backpack instead.

They hustled out the front doors, got into a cab and easily spent any money they may have saved on the airline tickets. "Our son is playing in the arena," Steve explained their haste to the driver.

"It's okay," he reassured them and swung the green and white vehicle into Tampa's unending stream of traffic.

"He's one of the naked boys," Emma piped up.

"They's all naked, miss," the driver remarked dryly.

Indeed, as they rushed into the arena to the sound of cheers and the echoing thump of basketballs and feet on wooden courts they saw that every player was indeed nude. They careened around the court, dashing and feinting and passing and shooting. The boys looked fantastic, Angie admitted to herself. Long legs and torsos, lean and muscular physiques, and those penises. What had they done to those penises? Every boy seemed to have an enormous erection curving up so tight that the tips touched their abs.

Steve noted the same, but his eye caught on the cheerleaders. The girls strutted and yelled, did Russian splits and those kind of splits on the ground where you fully expect to see the girl rip right down the middle. They stacked themselves into pyramids and threw the top girl off into a double flip. All in the nude -- yes the girls were fully stripped as well, tanned or dark skinned, buffed, smooth, athletic -- damn it, they were gorgeous.

"Caught you!" Angie teased, poking her husband.

"Can you blame me?" he asked, holding his hands out palm upwards in a gesture of defeat.

"Not at all -- as long as it's only looking."

They caught sight of Adrian amongst the players and watched with rapt attention as the game came to a climactic close -- Adrian's team losing by one point just before the whistle.

"They lost!" Emma exclaimed, as if the possibility had never entered her mind.

"It's okay," her father consoled her, "they're all here for the same program -- maybe they don't even always have the same teams?"

Coach Simmons was suddenly at their side. "If you want to see your son?" he asked. They were guided away from the spectator seats with just a glimpse of the winning team swarming onto the court. Coach took them into the locker room area. "It's not really private anymore," he explained. "I mean . . . you just saw them all naked, right?"

Angie laughed.

Adrian came off the court just as they arrived, looking sweaty from a long game, but as wonderfully hard and sleek as he had appeared during the game. Emma reached out tentatively. Adrian didn't protest so Emma ran her finger carefully along the ridge of his penis.

"How's it so hard?" she marveled.

"Shots," Adrian responded. "All the boys got stripped and we get shot twice a day. Athletes, coach says. Normal Florida boys are just on pills."

Emma nodded, not following the explanation, her hand still gripping her brother's erection.

"Anyway, got to take a quick shower and then I'll meet you guys?" Adrian asked.

"Sure -- take your time, son," Steve replied, trying to sound macho.

Adrian darted off and Emma and Marie -- and their parents, too, if you must know -- took their fill of the "sights" as the boys filed into the locker room and headed for the showers.

When Adrian returned he seemed to have shaken off whatever letdown he was feeling from having lost. "It's okay. We play lots of games," he said brightly. "When we win the cheerleaders suck as all off. And Coach says if our team wins the championship for the program we can reward our cheer girls by fucking them all!" Adrian beamed.

His family stared, taking in this transformation of their "little" boy and brother.

"Oh," he added, "and BrucIe, that's my new friend, is fucking me," he patted his rump with his hand, "back here. It's awesome!"

"So," Marie teased, "will the stud be willing to have dinner with us? Or is your date book already filled?"

"Um, you gotta ask coach," Adrian answered in earnest. "He knows the whole schedule."

Marie smirked, but her brother seemed to have missed her jibes.

With coach's approval and a clear understanding of Adrian's "curfew" they set off.

"Don't get confused by the nudity and the sex," Coach Simmons had said, "they're still athletes. Mealtimes and bedtimes are strict."

* * *

After such a short and dramatic interaction with her little brother, Marie was surprised at the scene in Panera, the eatery closest to the sports arena. First of all, it seemed like less than half the children were naked -- maybe even only a third. Secondly, it all seemed so mundane. The naked and the clothed mixed and mingled as if they didn't even notice the difference. A little boy was begging his mother for a soda, seemingly oblivious to his state of nudity. A group of girls at one table were arguing over the latest top music hits, two of them in tight, bright blouses, the third stripped, her newly formed breasts soft on her chest. A tall, gangly teen boy pushed his way through the glass door, his erection straining upwards, his biceps tattooed, his body otherwise completely shaved. Marie perked up for a moment, then realized the boy was simply looking for his mom so he could return her cell phone.

"Okay, I called dad," the boy was saying, "He'll meet us at Jennie's softball game."

It was as if ordinary life continued. She began to wonder if Adrian was making up the parts about getting sucked and fucked. Of course, what a joker of a kid!!!

At that moment a boy not much older than Adrian sauntered over to the soda machine. Marie only noticed him because his penis seemed almost too big for his body -- even larger than Adrian's who was supposedly on some super-shot. Just as the boy was about to fill up his soda cup he jerked back as if an electric jolt had gone through his body. He stepped backwards, thrust his hips forward and then shot a jet of sperm nearly straight up into the air. Remarkably, almost no one in the cafe took more than a passing notice. The boy caught his breath, grabbed the railing in front of the soda machine for balance and filled his cup. As he was walking back to his seat he complained in a rather ordinary tone of voice, "Mom, I've told you to stop doing that. Really!"

Adrian grinned.

"What?" Marie asked.

"They sell these gizmos. Put them up a boy's butt and then with this remote control thingy . . . you can make him shoot off whenever you like. Florida parents think it's real fun." Adrian cast a sidelong glance at his own parents, worried that he might be giving them ideas.

Ideas they got, but not of the technological variety. The family watched Adrian and his team play one game after another. They enjoyed the antics of the cheerleaders and had to admit that the young athletes of both sexes were definitely sexy. The boys were hard as flagpoles, the girls flipped in the air and landed in painfully wide splits. The girls flaunted their breasts and sashayed their hips and blew kisses to the fans in the bleachers. The boys were obviously full of themselves, toned, hard, erect athletes on the court.

"I think Adrian was lying," Emma complained.

"About what?" Steve asked, pretty sure of the answer.

"I don't believe all that stuff about the cheerleaders . . . you know, if they win?"

"Sucking the boys off and all?" Marie interjected the question.

"Yeah, that stuff,” her sister concurred.

"I wonder,” their mother agreed, "We've seen a lot of sexy girls -- and boys -- but nothing really over the top like that."

"Why don't we ask the coach?” Steve suggested.

* * *

Adrian's team lost another game by 2 points and won the next by 1 point. There was no suck or fuck fest, but then again, this was just a practice game. Adrian seemed to take it all in stride.

"The games aren't really the point. I mean obviously we want to win -- it's a lot more fun that way," the boy grinned. "But it's how we play that matters more. Coach says the talent scouts are watching all the time, assessing each player's talents whether the teams win or lose."

Angie and Steve nodded. They had signed their son up for this months ago when it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss. But, what would they do if Adrian were suddenly picked to play in Florida? Would he finish high school here or in Ohio? Should they move to Florida?

Angie shook her head. "Let's just take it one day at a time."

"What did you say, mom?" Adrian asked, confused.

"Oh, just talking to myself," his mother demurred. "Speaking of your coach, do you think your dad and I could track him down? I want to make sure I know all the details about your trip back before we return to Wisconsin.“

"Sure. I'll just text him for you, okay?”

An hour later Angie and Steve found themselves in a small office across from Coach Simmons.

"This is just borrowed space," Coach apologized.

"It isn't any smaller than your office back home," Steve laughed.

"That's true," Simmons replied. "So, what can I do for you?"

"Relax," Angie replied. Coach Simmons looked visibly relieved until Angie continued, "it's only about our son's sex life."

"Ah, yes. Well," Coach took a deep breath. "Florida is really different from the midwest . . . "

"I can see that," Steve interjected, "but our son . . . I mean, he's still a kid and . . . "

"He may be a kid to you, but they're growing fast, all of them," Coach observed.

"We noticed," Angie added dryly.

"And, according to Florida law, they are allowed to do whatever they want as long as both parties are stripped. Nevertheless," he held up a hand to hold back Adrian's concerned parents, "as their coach, I try to remind them that they're here for basketball first and foremost, and . . . how to put this . . . broken hearts aren't good for on court performance and teamwork."

"So, they're not getting sucked off by the cheerleaders?" Angie asked pointedly.

"Or fucking them?" Steve added. He held back on mentioning the friend Bruce and the alleged anal penetrations alluded to by his son.

"Not that I've observed," Coach told them, but his voice was guarded. "Their dorms are single sex and separate. I haven't seen any hanky panky in the locker rooms -- and as you've seen yourself, they aren't exactly private spaces, lots of parents in and out. But -- and I say this to parents all the time back home—teens have a way of doing what they want and the adults find out later. So, if Adrian's telling you he's involved with someone? Well, maybe he is." Coach laid his hands palm up on his knees. "What can I tell you?"

Angie and Steve nodded.

"On the other hand, we've got them on the shots, they're playing ball, they know scouts are here on the lookout, they're feeling full of themselves. What they tell you could be far ahead of what they're actually doing."

"I hope so," Steve replied. "Thank you. You've been very helpful."

"And thank you for all the work you've done with Adrian," Angie added. "I don't want you to think we're ungrateful. Just overly protective parents, that's all." She let out a short laugh.

"He's a great kid! Good athlete -- no, fantastic athlete--and exemplary human being. I probably shouldn't say this, but if he is fucking someone, that's a lucky person!"

"Tomorrow are the exhibition games," Coach reminded them, "You do not want to miss seeing your son play! And, the scout interviews are happening tomorrow, too. The schedules will be posted in the main lobby and the scouts have a bad habit of putting them up at the last minute. My advice is not to expect Adrian to keep track of his interview times; check the lists and make sure he's where he needs to be."

"Got it, Coach!" Steve did a thumbs up and they headed out to find their various progeny.

* * *

"Adrian didn't seem quite as enthusiastic about the game tomorrow as I expected," Emma observed. The two girls and their parents were gathered in their hotel room. Adrian had returned to his dorm by curfew time.

"Got to get a good sleep before the big game," his father had reminded him.

"Sure thing, dad." Adrian replied.

"Maybe he's just nervous," Marie suggested. "I know I would be!"

But Angie shook her head. Call it motherly intuition or years of careful observation. Either way she knew something was up.

"Maybe he's looking forward to all the activities with the cheerleaders after their big win tomorrow!" Steve grinned.

"Dad!" Marie protested.

"That's gross," Emma chimed in.

"It is funny seeing him all sexed up, though," Marie added.

In the final event there was no orgy on the court. The team played their hearts out. The boys played with vigor, their tall nude bodies moving across the court like some improvised expressionist dance performance. Sweat glistened off adolescent muscles as the boys ran, blocked and feinted. The orange ball was in constant motion except for the split second pause in the net after a successful basket. And each boy sported a full erect phallus pointing straight up, thanks to the full dose shots given one hour before each game. The exhibition schedule lasted all day, but each boy was schedule to play just twice. During the downtime the boys were supposed to be packing up to leave the next morning and making the rounds of the scheduled scout appointments.

Adrian made a stunning pass from half court, his team mate arced the ball through the air and it swished through the basket just as the final buzzer rang. His team won their last game by two points and they went wild. The extra players poured onto the court and the cheerleaders quickly set up a pyramid in the center, each girl climbing to the top and throwing herself down in double and triple flips. The boys formed a circle facing outward and pistoned their hips to the beat of the triumphal music blaring over the speaker system. It was exciting--and sexy--no doubt, but other than the nudity it was nothing that wouldn't have been the norm after a championship game in Wisconsin. The refs finally cleared the court so it could be readied for the next game and girls and boys ran off the court, presumably to hit the showers.

It wasn't until an hour later that Adrian's parents and sisters thought to check the schedules in the lobby.

"Shit!" Emma exclaimed, "Isn't Adrian supposed to meet with one of those recruiters?"

"Watch your mouth," her mother scolded, but the chastisement was half-hearted. She, too, was worried that Adrian had missed his first appointment. The four of them hustled out to the lobby and started scanning the schedule printouts posted on the bulletin boards. While they were still looking Coach Simmons rushed across the room.

"Where's Adrian?" he asked. "His first appointment is in 15 minutes and he's not out here."

"We last saw him heading off the court, what, an hour ago?" Steve replied.

"You check the locker room," Angie told him, "and I'll head over to the dorm."

"I've got to get back to the office," Coach informed them, "but I really don't want him to miss out. These scouts are really hot about his prospects. He could get a full scholarship offer today if he acquits himself as well in an interview as he has on the court."

Marie and Emma made a split decision to divide up as well. "I'll go with dad," Emma said.

Angie and Marie trotted down the corridor and across the street to the dorm complex.

"What floor did he say he was on?” Angie asked.

"Three," Marie replied, pushing the door open and holding it for her mother. They scampered up the stairs and down the hallway. Cinderblock walls were punctuated at regular intervals by metal fireproof doors. "Room 302, I think," Marie added.

But when they knocked on the door they were greeted by a boy they'd never seen. He was tall, like all the boys at the event, his skin a deep-tanned olive complexion, with curls of dark hair on his chest, arms and legs. His penis flared up in a curved erection from a nest of tightly curled pubic hair.

"Adrian?" he asked. "He traded rooms. He's staying at Brucie's. You could check if he's there."

"Brucie?" Marie asked, remembering her brother's remark the first day they got there. "What's the room number?"

"402 I think? It's on the next floor. Same room as this one, so it should be the same number."

“Thanks,” Angie called over her shoulder, but her daughter was already half-way down the hall.

“I’ll meet you upstairs,” Marie called out as she pushed open the door to the stairwell. She took the steps two at a time and ran down the fourth floor hallway. She was just about to pound on the door of 402 when she paused for a moment. Oh well, here goes, she thought and banged on the door. With silence as the only reply she banged on the door again. Angie opened the door from the stairway at the same time that a tall boy with short dark hair answered the door.

“Brucie?” Marie asked.

“Um, yeah,” the boy answered, startled.

“I’m Adrian’s sister. He’s got an important scout appointment right now!”

“Oh, shit. Adrian!” Brucie called out. “You’re missing your interview.”

The flustered looking boy emerged from the bathroom, gave Brucie a questioning look and bolted down the hallway. Brucie turned to Marie just as Emma came around the corner at the opposite end of the hallway.

“I really don’t want him to throw away this opportunity,” Brucie blurted out.

“Is he here?” Angie asked. “Is this his room or downstairs?”

“It’s his room,” Marie reassured her mother, “I think.”

“He’s got an interview with the Tampa Tempest,” Brucie went on, awe creeping into his voice. “I mean, that’s the top—other than the Magic, that is, but . . . God, I hope he doesn’t blow it on purpose.”

“What’s he talking about,” Emma asked. “This guy told me that Adrian’s been staying up here.”

“Brucie, this is my — I mean our — sister, Emma. Emma this is Brucie.” Marie introduced them.

Emma’s eyes went wide. “You mean, you’re the one who is . . . “ The girl cut herself off and blushed furiously, but still stared intently at the boy who might be Adrian’s lover.

“Why would he mess up on purpose?” Marie asked. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s all my fault,” Brucie moaned and stared down at the floor. Marie looked down as well. She couldn’t help thinking of the incongruity of the boy’s shot-induced erection and the obvious emotional turmoil he was exhibiting.

Reaching out her hand, Marie touched the boy on the shoulder. “It’s alright. I’m sure he’ll make it to his appointment.”

Bruce looked up, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Marie said.

Bruce nodded, his Adam’s apple moving silently in his throat.

Emma looked back and forth between her sister and Brucie. “Did you really, you know, in his ass?” she whispered.

“Emma!” Marie exclaimed. But the tension was broken.

Bruce let out a laugh. “Is that what he told you?” he asked incredulously. Emma nodded her head up and down earnestly.

“And you’re still willing to talk to me?”

“So you did?” Emma pressed.

“I did,” Brucie confirmed.

“That’s so cool,” Emma exclaimed, “so you really are his lover!”

Bruce stared at Adrian’s mother and two sisters. “Well, you’re a very unusual family. My folks—well, I think they’re planning to disown me.”

____

The coach stands at the side of the court and watches in pride.

Adrian stands in the middle of the basketball court, his bare feet on the polished floor, his eye on the basket. He pauses and shoots. The ball flies through the air and swishes through the net.

“I’m going to miss you,” coach says, walking over to Adrian.

“Come down to Florida,” Adrian replies. “I’m serious. Look what you did for me. You could coach there!”

“Too many naked boys,” coach jokes. “But seriously, I’ll come watch you play. I’ll be in the stands cheering on the team and you’ll be running down the court.”

“Naked.”

The coach runs his eye down Adrian’s toned body. The kid is filling out, growing up. “You look good.”

“Did you hear,” Adrian says earnestly. “Brucie got an athletic scholarship. He’ll be playing b-ball for USF.”

“Give him my congratulations,” coach replies. “You in training with the Tampa Tempests, Brucie at the University of South Florida. You’ve got a great future, Adrian, but don’t blow off the school part. College is important. Sign up for a class Brucie’s taking—you know, more fun that way.”

Adrian nods.

“Brucie’s family—still not talking to him?”

“No. He’s going to live with us. Our whole family’s moving down in July.”

The boys are in Adrian’s room, the room that still has no door. They try to be discrete, but hormones, love and impatience sometimes win out. Emma pauses in the darkened hallway. Brucie’s naked body moves in sinuous waves as he thrusts into the boy beneath him.

Emma catches her brother’s eye. Adrian grins.

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FINIS

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