Getting buzzed took on a whole new meaning.
I reconnected with a college buddy this holiday season and the story that follows is among the many college memories we relived.
I grew up in the mid-west, corn fed as my friends teased due to my shy demeanor, tall, lean, muscular body, blond hair and blue eyes. It was a big deal for my family and the town when I attended a Big East college on a basketball scholarship.
In my junior year, I was having problems with my game. My focus was off and I couldn't sink a basket if I was standing next to it. At 20, I was threatened with leaving the team and losing the scholarship.
My team mates were empathetic. Some ridiculed that it was because I wasn't 'getting any' which, having been dumped by my girlfriend a few weeks earlier, was true. Taking matters 'in my own hands' just wasn't as much fun.
Brad, the team captain, took me aside after a game and, after belittling my performance, told me I needed to get buzzed. 'Like getting high would help my game,' I replied. He laughed and said that's not what he meant. 'Don't you know about buzz?' My puzzled look answered his question. He told me to go see Doc and tell him I need to get buzzed.
Doc was the team physician, a nice but gruff man in his fifties, I guessed, who had been with the team for years. With no family, the team was his life and he cared for the players well.
After my shower, I knocked on Doc's office door for my usual post-game rub-down to relieve leg cramps. As I lay on my stomach, draped in my towel, Doc shared his concern about my game. I muttered what Brad had said about needing to get buzzed. His reply was, 'Sure, kid.'
Before I could ask what it meant, I heard a buzzing sound, like an electric razor. I turned my head to see a silver box-like instrument strapped onto Doc's hand that was buzzing and vibrating. His massaging became more intense due to the vibrations, weird at first, but not unpleasant. Of course, the vibrations rattled through my body and even muscles not being touched were tingling, including my cock, which began springing to life with this new sensation.
When he told me to roll over onto my back, I was nervous he'd see my awakening hardon. I straightened the towel and hoped for the best. He started at my feet and worked his way up my legs, his hands occasionally slipping under the towel to my thighs, which caused the towel to tent. Though stimulated, I was mortified as he sensed my uneasiness. Doc said to relax and let buzz take care of everything.
Doc continued massaging me with his vibrating hand, up my legs and onto my rock hard cock. I almost jumped off the table but he said the all the players got buzzed once in a while to get back their focus and game. So there I lay, hard and naked now that the towel was removed, with Doc stroking my cock with his vibrating hand. His other hand rested on my chest, partly to steady me but also massaging my pects. God how I loved having my nipples played with during sex, but how could he know? Maybe all guys enjoy it.
Massaging my heavy ball sac hanging between my legs, Doc commented that it must have been a hell of a long time since I'd gotten off; although, he continued, with us young studs, it could have been since last night!
I closed my eyes and let 'buzz' do its thing. After some long, slow strokes, Doc increased the pace, jerking me off till I came in buckets. 'Jeez, dude' was his response, 'we better get you buzzed regularly.'
My game improved tremendously because that's how slumps go, but getting buzzed regularly didn't hurt a bit.
Dan and I had never talked about until that night over some beers. He wondered whatever happened to Doc and offered a toast to 'getting buzzed.'