The Towel Boy Accidentally Jerked Me Off (Patreon)

Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.

Note: This is based on the feedback survey from yesterday. I loved the ideas, and took the top several notes, throwing them together into a fictional narrative, but it's still along the lines of the "based on a true story" background that I normally write. Enjoy!

I almost missed the bus entirely.

Which, for me, is basically unacceptable. I'm the captain. I'm supposed to be first on, last off, the guy setting the tone. Coach literally says that. I woke up late with eleven texts from the guys on the team..One came in from Coach that just said where are you and I was still running around my dorm room naked looking for the stuff for my gear bag. I felt especially like shit because sports are literally the only thing I have going for me. I’m in college on athletic scholarship, I suck at school, and I’m literally known for not being that smart. I know it sounds rough to say, but my mom always said that I needed to be careful because I tended to believe whatever someone told me. I can be really trusting, which is just in my nature.

I finally got my shit together, skipped the shower, didn't eat, and jogged across campus with my cleats in one hand looking like a complete idiot. The bus was still there with the engine running, thank god, and I could already see faces in the windows. Someone banged on the glass. I heard laughing coming from inside the bus, which is a new low for me.

Coach was standing at the door with his clipboard face on.

"Get in."

"Sorry, Coach."

He just pointed me up the steps.

—[]—

The bus was packed. I did a quick walk down the aisle and there was basically nothing left. Bags were filling the seats that didn’t have bulky athletes sprawled out, everyone with their headphones in. I was getting whatever was left and I knew it.

I kept moving, passing Michael. Michael was a tall Black guy, the second biggest dude on the team after me, starting centerfielder who somehow had a whole row to himself and his bag, which I still don't understand. He looked up at me as I went by with this expression like he was watching something he found very entertaining. I had no idea what that was about. Michael's always doing some version of that face when he looks at me.

The only open seat was about two thirds back. Window seat was taken. I looked at who was in it and it took me a second.

Little Kenny.

Kenny is our “equipment manager”, but we just call him the towel boy. He’s been with us all season, but I had almost never talked to him. He's a good dude, always there in the locker rooms, no problem being around all the naked dudes, always doing something helpful, bringing us water and towels and stuff, never really in the way. He was just a genuinely useful guy and eventually an important member of the team, even if he didn’t work out or play with us. He was always bouncing around the locker room before and after practice while the rest of us were just standing around in various states of nudity. He never seemed bothered by any of it, he even commented on my cock sometimes, pointing out that I was bigger than the other guys. He was the only one who ever said that, so I had kind of a positive impression of him. I was just glad he was totally straight like me, or else that might've been weird. He had a good energy. Still, I barely knew him as a person and never talked to him outside of locker rooms.

He looked up when I stopped at his row.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," he said, and moved his bag quickly.

I threw my duffel in the overhead and dropped into the seat next to him. First time I'd ever actually sat next to the guy, and it was a very tight fit between my muscular thighs and the narrow size of this bench. I tried not to press into him, but it was hard to avoid. He just adjusted a bit and let me basically cover his leg with me. He put his hands on his crotch and held himself, which made me chuckle, like he was hiding a boner. I knew he was probably just making sure I didn’t accidentally hit him in the balls. 

He smelled like he had just showered and put on a little too much deodorant, which I thought was actually a good thing for me because I had not showered and I was aware of it.

He was not weird about the tight space at all. Didn't hug the window, didn't do that thing where someone makes themselves stiff and apologetic because a bigger guy sat down. He just settled in, got comfortable, pulled out his phone. Normal and easy. I liked that immediately.

We didn't really talk for the first stretch. I was catching up on the texts I'd gotten overnight, honestly trying to recover from the anxiety of running late, and the bus got on the highway and the noise of the engine and everyone talking sort of blended into a white noise, as people started to fall asleep. I hadn't eaten. I hadn't slept enough. My eyes kept getting heavy.

Then Kenny said, "Rough morning?"

"Yup."

He laughed. Quiet, not trying to be noticed. 

"Coach looked pretty unhappy."

"I know."

I looked over at him. He had this expression that was basically neutral except for the smallest smirk at the corner of his mouth. Something in me relaxed.

"Yeah," I said. "Rough morning."

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a granola bar, broke it in half, and held out the bigger half without even looking up from his phone.

I stared at it for a second.

"Peanut butter," he said.

I took it. "Thanks man."

"Don't worry about it."

That was pretty much when I remembered that Kenny was a legitimately good dude. Sometimes you just get a read on someone and it clicks.

—[]—

About an hour in, the highway got flat and grey and boring, and my leg was pressed against Kenny's because there was no way around it, the seat wasn't wide enough for both of us to have personal space. I had stopped thinking about it after the first ten minutes. It was just how things were.

Then Kenny pulled up Instagram.

I wasn't paying attention to his screen at first, but he tilted it toward me a little and I glanced over and it was one of the girls from the cheer squad. Dark hair, great smile.

"She's in my comm class," Kenny said.

"Nice," I said. And I meant it, because she was genuinely good looking.

He kept scrolling. More cheer girls. He moved through their accounts with a very focused, appreciative energy, and every so often he'd slow down on something good and angle the screen a little more in my direction. I sat up. Started making comments. He'd nod, or add something, or zoom in a little, and we were just two guys on a bus looking at pretty girls on the internet which is a perfectly normal activity.

He stopped on the most revealing pics. The real thirst traps, and I knew there was going to be trouble in my shorts, but I also knew I wasn’t going to do anything to stop it.

"She's so hot, dude," I said at one point.

"Right?" Kenny said.

"Does she come to our games?"

"Every home game, usually,” he said, “She lives on my dorm floor."

Good man.

I didn't notice that the bus had gotten warmer. An hour of being pressed against someone in a heated vehicle while looking at attractive girls had done something to my body that I was now going to have to deal with. I was straight up throbbing in my shorts. 

Michael looked back at us once. Just turned around in his seat, looked at me, then let his eyes move over to Kenny, then back to me. I knew he clocked my raging boner, which I honestly wasn’t even trying to hide. He had this expression that I can only describe as knowing, like he was watching a nature documentary and things were going exactly as expected.

I had zero idea what that was about.

I turned back to Kenny's phone.

The bus hit a rough patch of road about ninety minutes in. One of those stretches where the highway surface goes bad and everything rattles and shakes. My jacket slid off my lap. Kenny, being Kenny, immediately reached down to grab it for me.

And in the process of handing it back, he rested his arm on my thigh, his elbow pushing into my hard cock.

I went completely still.

It wasn't his fault. It was a tight space and an awkward angle and he was just being helpful. That's all it was. But I had been sitting one a bus for an hour and a half next to a guy who had been showing me attractive women the whole time and my body had been running its own quiet program in the background that I had been successfully ignoring, and the sudden firm pressure of his elbow landing exactly there was, it was just bad timing. That's the only way I can put it.

But I could tell that Kenny felt it.

He didn't pull away immediately. He kind of just... registered what his elbow had landed on, and held it there for a second, even rubbing his elbow back a but against me. I hated to admit it to myself, but it felt good.

He looked up at me.

"Bro," he said, smirking like he had caught me doing something naughty. "Is that your… phone?"

I sighed in relief, thanking God in my head that he hadn’t realized it.

"Um, yeah," I said, trying to sound confident.

He looked back down. His hand moved down to my cock and grabbed it. He kind of just rested his palm on my crotch, pressing his fingers lightly into the shaft, like he was feeling around for the edges of the phone.

"Weird shape," he said.

I gulped, tripping over my words.

"It's, um, a new case."

"It’s really thick," he said, rubbing it up and down. “Is it an iPhone?”

He was smirking at me, like he knew what it was without saying it, but I just thought he was being a regular dude, a cool guy, checking out my new phone.

"It’s the new one," I said.

He pressed a little more tightly, slowly reaching the head of my cock and squeezing it. I felt myself pulse in his hands. I was amazed that he hadn’t noticed yet. He was so curious about the phone, I felt kind of bad for lying to him. It felt so weirdly good while he did it, that I thought I might have a next level problem shortly if he didn’t stop. I tried but couldn’t think of a way to change the subject.

Michael looked back again, his jaw dropping like he was shocked at Kenny grabbing my crotch. 

“I’m just checking out his phone,” he said to Michael. 

“Normally you whip it out if you wanna show it to somebody,” Michael said, shaking his head slowly and turning back away from us.

"It's warm," Kenny whispered. "Like, really warm."

I hesitated, not knowing what to say. He started rubbing the lump in his own shorts as well. Even though it looked like he was jerking off over his shorts, I realized he must be comparing it to his phone in his pocket. People have always said I’m not the smartest guy, but at least I could figure that out.

"Yeah, the battery runs hot." I was so proud of myself for coming up with an excuse for that.

Then he started rubbing it harder, gripping it while staring at me. “It’s so big, dude,” he said, almost moaning while he rubbed my crotch. The poor little dude didn’t even realize what he was doing, and it felt so good that I felt like I was about to literally cum in my shorts.

"Huh." He was quiet for a second, still pressing gently. "What kind of phone is it again?"

Something in me cracked. I had to admit it to him.

"Kenny."

"What?"

"It's not my phone."

He kept holding onto me, like he wasn’t surprised, even though I knew he had to be, while I just wanted to actually disappear into the seat cushion and never return.

"Oh," Kenny said.

"Yeah."

"So this whole time…"

“...yeah.”

He nodded like this was all just normal information to receive. And then, and this is the thing about Kenny, this is what I mean when I say he's a good bro, he didn't make it weird. 

“You seemed like you liked it,” Kenny said, still holding onto me. “Do you like it?”

I was surprised he wasn’t grossed out about it. He really was the coolest dude in the world. 

“I mean, it felt good.” 

He just settled back in his seat, grabbing me even tighter than before. My eyes went wide.

“But dude, I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah, right,” Kenny said, smirking while he started rubbing my big, thick meat in my shorts, focusing on the head.

“No, dude, really, I’m… yup, yeah, I’m cumming,” I said as I felt myself go over the edge. The pleasure rushed through my body, making my body tense a bit. 

“I’m nutting, bro,” I said, chuckling, realizing how funny this was. 

He just smiled again as I felt the jizz run down the inside of my thigh. I thought about how cool he was as a fellow straight dude, as he rubbed me all the way until I stopped throbbing. He finally let go after I was totally done.

We both looked down at the big wet spot on my shorts.

“Fuck dude,” I whispered, “You’re seriously cool with making a dude cum? You’re like the coolest dude ever.”

“Did you really finish?” he said quietly. 

“Yeah, dude, I swear. Look!” I pointed to the obvious wet spot. 

“That could be anything.”

“No, dude, it’s cum.”

"Prove it," he said.

I looked at him for a long moment.

I don't know what happened in my brain. I think it had just been a very long day and I was not operating at full capacity. I think I had been embarrassed past the point where embarrassment even meant anything anymore. Whatever the reason, I heard myself say it before I could stop it.

"Touch it then."

Kenny looked at me.

Then he looked down at my lap. His hand moved back, pressing gently against the front of my shorts, fingers feeling the fabric. He was still. Concentrating. Then his expression shifted, just a little, and he lifted his hand and looked at his fingers.

And then, without any hesitation at all, he brought his index finger to his mouth and touched it to his tongue.

I was shocked, almost feeling bad for him.

“Did you just taste it?”

He nodded. Once. Slowly. 

"Had to be sure you were telling the truth," he said.

"You’re a really dedicated towel boy," I said.

"You should probably text one of those girls," he said, turning back to the window.

I realized I was finally able to relax for the first time all day. As I leaned my head back and started to fall asleep, I wasn’t sure how the rest of the season was going to go, but it was cool to know what a good dude Kenny was.