Chapter 9Guy
When Harry Knudson walked into my office and said, “Strip, boy,” I knew just what to do. I had done it often enough.
It was late, after the building was secured for the night. He’d told me earlier in the day to be there, waiting for him. As always. I could have saved some time and gotten naked, but he liked watching me undress.
I got up from behind my desk and pulled my T-shirt over my head. Slowly. The way he liked.
“Okay, now the shoes.” I sat down, untied my trainers, and took them off. “Leave the socks.”
I stood, my rod poking up beyond the top of my jock and showing because my knit gym shorts were riding low on my hips.
“You’re glad to see me, aren’t you, boy?”
“Yes, Coach. I’m always glad to see you.” That wasn’t exactly true, but I needed to keep him happy.
“Oka
