The Telemachus Story Archive

The Undiscovered Country
By Hooder

The Undiscovered Country

Paul dunked his digestive biscuit into his coffee and lifted his finger off the mouse button. He’d been surfing Bing mindlessly, looking for porn he hadn’t seen and trying to think of new search phrases he hadn’t already tried, when he’d come across this black-and-white spiral thing. He’d noticed them before, but he’d never looked to see what they were. Curious now, he clicked it and was taken to a page about self-hypnosis. Apparently, you entered words, and then started the app going. The spiral would begin rotating, and the words you’d entered would flash subliminally fast across it, while a computer-generated voice would speak them. The idea was that you could hypnotise yourself with it; the words would be suggestions that you’d act on, or would change your behaviour in some way. It was a well put-together thing, and it even had a section for post-hypnotic suggestion. He knew what that was: later, whenever you heard or saw something you’d entered here, it would – so it said – trigger whatever response you’d put in for it. Paul particularly liked that idea. The app was mainly intended for things like stopping smoking or losing weight, but possibly because he was dead horny at the moment, an altogether different use for it was occurring to him. He was straight, but one of his deepest secrets was his raging fetish for girls in shorts – sports shorts, tight shorts, loose ones, didn’t matter what kind – there was something about them that turned him on like crazy. Even just thinking about them now was getting him hard. His fingers began entering words.

He was really getting into this – it was almost like masturbating. His mind was imagining dirty, naughty girls. Girls in shorts. He entered more words.

After he’d used up all the available spaces for them he came to the post-hypnotic suggestion section. He was so horny now he’d got his cock out and was wanking slowly. He tried to think of something really sleazy for this. Many of the things he’d entered so far reflected his obsession with shorts. What could he put? He forced himself to take his hand off his cock otherwise he’d have cum. Fuck, he was horny.

His fingers tapped the keys.

Paul sat back, put his headphones on, and pressed the ‘start’ button. He was fairly certain it was all a load of bullshit and wouldn’t work, but it was a fun way to spend the evening.

The spiral rotated in front of his eyes. The low, relaxed voice spoke softly into his ears.

* * *

It had been a bitch of a day at work today. Old Fart-Pants (sorry, Mr Hopkins) had clearly had a bad night with his wife and was taking it out on everybody. Nothing Paul could do was right. The last delivery of cardboard cartons hadn’t been entered into the log until half an hour after they’d arrived; the coffee machine was on the blink because Paul’s had hit it yesterday; would he please turn his damned phone off when he was at work? And where the fuck was the key to the store room?

* * *

He’d been glad to get out of the place. Paul worked late shift and, as usual at this time of night, he had this part of the gym almost to himself; there was one other guy down the far end but Paul had hardly noticed him. The screen on the exercise bike told him that he’d completed twenty miles at a good average speed and he was happy with that. It was enough for today. He relaxed and towelled himself off, then took the iphone pods out of his ears and headed to the showers.

There was nobody using the wash room when he went in. He stripped and turned the spray on, closing his eyes and luxuriating in the feel of the hot water pummelling his body.

He heard the door open. After a pause, a voice said, “Hi,”.

Paul wiped water out of his eyes. The guy was athletic, with a black tattoo on one shoulder and another on his hip. He had a blue towel over his shoulder, and was wearing white Adidas shorts.

“Hi,” Paul replied.

The guy sat down on a bench and started to unlace his trainers. Paul suddenly realised that he was riveted to those shorts. The way the guy’s muscles flexed beneath them as he leaned forward; the light reflecting from the white cotton; the slits on the outsides of the legs.

Paul suddenly realised that he had a massive erection between his legs. He started to turn round to hide it, but he could not take his eyes of the guy’s shorts.

The athletic guy pulled off his trainers and stood up. He glanced at Paul and saw the boy’s hard-on straight away. A slight frown crossed his face for a moment, but then cleared – guys get erections all the time, he thought. He loved people admiring his body – that’s why he worked out so much – but although he was ready for his shower, he didn’t feel quite comfortable stripping completely next to a boy with a hard-on, so he decided to keep his shorts on. He could have a proper shower when he got home.

Paul tried not to stare but it was impossible. This guy was going to have a shower with his shorts on! He watched as he walked into the next shower stall and stood there, the white cotton getting soaked and slowly going semi-transparent as the water ran over them.

Paul’s erection was as solid as steel. He was suddenly more horny than he’d felt for a long time. Those shorts were so fucking sexy. He could not take his eyes off them. And the fact that they were wet just made it worse.

The guy kept glancing at Paul as he soaped himself. This boy was staring fixedly at his shorts. What the fuck was that about? “Enjoying the view?” He asked, frowning again.

Paul was terminally embarrassed – he knew what it must look like, but he was incapable of doing anything about it. “Those shorts...” He said before he could stop himself.

The athletic guy looked down at them for a moment, then back at Paul. “Guys in shorts turn you on then?”

“No! I mean yeah. I mean - “ He had no idea what to say. “Guys don’t – I’m straight. But shorts… Oh fuck.” His voice petered out.

The guy tried to work this out. The boy was straight, and yet he had a raging erection looking at him. So it was the shorts. Strange. He looked at the boy: he was late teens, with long dark hair and a soft, gentle face. Good-looking, he thought. And he had a nice body – needed more work on his abs and pecs, but apart from that, nice. “I’m David,” he said.


“You know, a guy could get the wrong idea, a boy getting off on him in the showers like this.”

“I know.” Paul hung his head. “I can’t help it. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I’m not usually into guys, but you’re turning me on like you would not believe. And those shorts… I don’t understand it.” He petered out again and shook his head. He understood it perfectly well – it was that bloody hypnosis thing. But he was so fucking horny!

“Well, I suppose it’s not doing anybody any harm, so enjoy.” He smiled. The lad was clearly getting off big-time on the sight of him and it had been a while since he’d turned someone on as much as this, David thought to himself. And he liked the feeling. On an impulse he started to rub the bar of soap slowly and teasingly over the material of his shorts. He felt self-conscious doing it, but the boy’s reaction made it worth it: Paul’s mouth opened and he stared. David gained confidence. He soaped his shorts all over, put the bar down, and used his hands to rub the foam in over his muscular thighs, his crotch and his arse.

Paul was almost cumming. His eyes were fixed on David. This was better than any porn he’d ever seen on Youtube. The guy’s hands glided over the wet and slippery white cotton lasciviously. And he was getting a hard-on!

David knew full well that he was a bit of a narcissist: the whole reason he worked out was so that people would look at him and admire his body. He didn’t care who – he just loved the feeling of being fancied. But this was also making him realise that he was something of an exhibitionist – and, it seemed, a bit of a control freak too. The effect he was having on this boy was making him feel good - and performing like this for him was, he realised to his surprise, turning him on like fuck. His cock continued to grow as his hands slid over his shorts, and the front began to tent out into a huge, projecting pyramid.

Paul was straight. He wasn’t at all interested in cocks. But for some reason the sight of this one - the actual organ concealed but the shorts stretched over it like that – was horrendously horny. And the way the wet, white cotton disappeared between the cheeks of the guy’s arse was hypnotic.

David wrapped his fingers around his cock through the shorts and began to stroke it very slowly. He closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure.

Paul wanted to cum, badly. The sight of this was too much. “I -” He felt a great need, but he didn’t know quite what. “Please...” He whimpered.

David opened his eyes. The boy was almost drooling. Being the object of such intense desire was an unusual feeling – and it was wonderful. Fucking wonderful. He walked into Paul’s shower and stood in front of the boy with his hands on his hips. “Kneel down,” he said.

Paul did so. He brought his hands up and stroked them over the athletic guy’s horny white shorts. It was as if he’d died and gone to heaven. The tattoo on the guy’s hip was only half-visible, the rest of it disappearing under the white waist band.

He pushed his face into the shorts and licked the wet cotton. David’s cock was tenting them out obscenely. Nervously, Paul put his fingers on it. He’d never touched another guy’s cock before – not even through shorts. Then he stroked it.

And David had never had another guy touch his cock before – but he discovered that the feelings were every bit as horny as when a girl did it. He was getting very turned on indeed. His cock jerked at the boy’s touch.

Paul continued to worship the white shorts. He licked them, stroked them, gripped the hard cock through them, teasing it unbearably, and then began wanking it.

Suddenly this was too much for David. He pulled away. “Stand up.” He yanked the boy to his feet, turned him around, and pushed him against the shower wall. Desperately he pulled his soapy cock out of one leg of the shorts, and pushed it into the boy. With the hot water cascading over both of them, he began to fuck the teenager hard.

Paul screwed his eyes up. It hurt for a second – but then he felt the cock sliding in and out of him, filling him, and he realised that it was amazingly horny. With each stroke he could feel the elasticated waist band of the shorts against his back and the wet cotton sticking momentarily to the cheeks of his arse. One hand reached around behind him and gripped the guy’s hip so he could feel those shorts, and his other hand went to his cock. As David fucked him, he wanked himself off. It didn’t take long - they came simultaneously.

David pulled out, a haze of embarrassment having descended on both of them. Without a word, he threw his clothes on and left.

Paul was still slumped against the shower wall, the hot water still running. He shook his head, and slowly stood up straight. What the fuck had just happened? That hypnosis thing, he thought. His arse hurt a bit and he waddled slightly as he went back into the main room to get dressed.

* * *

Back at his flat he flopped into his chair and turned the computer on. He was going to have to find some way of undoing that post-hypnotic thing about shorts.

Shorts. Mmm... Images of sexy babes in shorts paraded across his closed eyelids. Perhaps not get rid of it entirely, perhaps just change it so that it only worked with girls, not guys. Yeah, that’s what he’d do.

He found himself thinking of David in the shower, the way those white shorts had glistened when they were wet; the shape the guy’s cock had made jutting out at the front; what it had felt like to push his face into them… The thought of that was as sexy as the image of any girl. Sexier - he’d never felt as turned on as he had when he’d been watching David slowly and teasingly rubbing his hands over those soapy, slippery wet shorts.

He sat and stared at the computer desktop. What to do? What words to put in? His cock was hard again. What does it matter? He asked himself. If a guy could turn him on as much as he’d got turned on looking at David then what the fuck does it matter? That was the most horny thing he’d experienced for ages. He sat up, started Firefox and navigated to Bing images. He typed in ‘athletic guys in shorts’ and waited for the pictures to appear.

Oh fuck. His eyes opened wide. This was a whole new world of porn, he thought. A whole new fucking world! His hand went to his cock.

He’d leave things exactly as they were.