The sound of the other guys’ laughter and chatter faded into the background, drowned out by the pounding of my heart and the rush of blood in my ears. “Just relax, freshie,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. I was trying to keep cool, but inside, I was short-circuiting. Dear God, please don’t let me be gay, I thought, repeating it like a mantra. But his thumb pressed at an angle, right against my hole, that made my knees buckle slightly. On the contrary, I was pretty sure I would be leaking pre-cum at any moment. I, on the other hand, looked like I’d been sketched by a child with a shaky hand. But deep down, I knew I’d crossed a line. The showers were the real kicker. This doesn’t mean anything, I told myself.
