Coming Out in the Locker Room

Doing things 100% has always paid off for me. When the other kids were all fooling around, I was shooting baskets. Drilling. Working with my dad at getting ever better at basketball. High school was a blast. Of course I was the star player. Being 6'6" didn't hurt! Now, I have to admit that I'm not much good at anything else, but basketball, I'm good! It got me a scholarship to a midwestern medical university. I don't want to be a pro basketball player. Well, actually I do, but realistically, I'm not that good. However, I'm certainly the star around here, and I'll revel in it for now. Eventually, I want to work on a hospital ship, offering my services to third-world countries or disaster torn regions. I don't even care if it pays well or not, so long as I can eventually pay back my student loans. But, I'm getting off track. Did I mention that I'm gay? I'm not attached to any one guy. I just like dick. I really get a kick out of the whole locker room and shower scene, seeing the other tall guys all naked. I've had a few sexual encounters with my teammates, but we try to keep a low profile. It's pretty much an open secret though, that I'm a queer guy. I wanted to do something else 100%. I wanted to come out with style. I made a decision, then I vacillated for a month before going through with it. I hired a 'special' masseur to come to the locker room after the game. Guys have had after-game massages before, but generally by the assistant coach or trainer, although one guy did bring in his own masseur. That's what gave me the idea. Now, I should point out that these massages the other guys were getting were quite ordinary. That's not what I wanted. When the day came, we played. You'd think all the sexual energy running through me would wreck my game, but no, I played well. Our team won. Did I mention it was also my twenty-second birthday? After the showers, the guys generally hung out naked for a few minutes, conversing about the game and this and that. My masseur arrived. I vaguely introduced him. He seemed impressed by us basketball semi-stars. We aren't a major university in terms of sports, but still he was impressed. He unfolded his table and threw on a sheet. He instructed me to lay down, and started with an ordinary massage. The other guys were still jubilantly talking about the game, and starting to dress. I became worried that the massage would stay ordinary until they left, but I had instructed my masseur when I booked him, about the special arrangement I wanted. I needn't have worried. As I was laying on my stomach, he switched from ordinary massage, to working on my buttocks, spreading them, and ever so lightly brushing his fingertips over my anus. My penis swelled somewhat uncomfortably under my belly. The other guys in the room started to take notice. No one said anything, but the room got quieter, and I saw the guys trying not to watch, but watching anyway. The masseur asked me to roll over. Suddenly, I was reluctant. Had I made a huge mistake? The guys would see my erection, and there'd be no going back. But what could I do? I had set something in motion that would be even more embarrassing to stop than to go through with. Besides, I reminded myself, I'm a 100% kind of guy. I rolled over, and my penis stuck straight up. Normally, it lays against my belly, even when erect, but in extraordinary circumstances, it stands up like a flagpole. The masseur went to work. First a wonderful light massage of my scrotum. Then he applied a bit more pressure, until he was lightly squeezing my nuts themselves between his thumbs and fingertips. My penis was bobbing with every heartbeat. The masseur let go of my balls, and wrapped one hand around my flagpole. I came. There was nothing I could do. It was just too much. He hadn't even started stroking me, and cum was shooting six inches into the air, and landing on my chest. There was not a peep from the other guys in the room, half of which were still naked. I glanced around as best I could laying there on the massage table. Most of the guys were soft, but two had major erections. I took a mental note. I felt mildly embarrassed, kind of like a school kid who has done something naughty, and is going to be called to the principal's office. But more than that, I felt something else. I felt proud! I had done my 100% thing. I had made my statement. Slowly, all the guys came out of their silent trances. A couple literally congratulated me, not only wishing me 'happy birthday' but saying they really appreciated my boldness in doing what I had just done. The coach didn't say anything, but he did wink in what I took as approval. Over the past few weeks since I did that, the atmosphere in the locker room has changed. Men are starting to sport erections, and it seems to be totally OK. I've seen a couple of guys sort of idly stroke themselves in the shower. Yesterday, Kyle sat on a bench and jerked himself off, right there, openly, in front of everyone. I was so proud of him that I sat on the bench right next to him and jerked myself off. One other guy, Anthony, sat himself down on the bench on my left side, and wanked himself also. I can't wait to see what happens next.