Chris Joins the Polo Club


By Polodude

Chris was a freshman at Haslton Prep, a boarding school, one of the best private high schools in the country. He was 15, small, and skinny. He kept to himself, working and studying hard so he could get into a good college. Chris vaguely knew he was gay, but wasn’t out at all, even to himself. He was totally intimidated by the hot, buff senior athletes in his boarding school dorm. He didn’t want to fuck them… he wanted to BE them. He felt like a loser next to the preppy, golden-boy jock studs who paraded around the campus like gods.

This pretty much gave Chris a lot of fuel for his j/o fantasies, but that was it. There was no chance of ever living out those fantasies. He spent whatever free time he had working on the school paper and helping out as a stage manager for the drama club. At night, after rehearsal and studying, he would log on to the MGS stories website and fantasize about muscle growth. He wanted to become one of those awesome dudes. Sometimes he would dress like those jock guys, wearing sporty clothes like they wore…. close his eyes, and jerk off, pretending to become one of them. But he knew it would never happen.

On a Saturday afternoon on a crisp fall day, Chris was studying for a math exam in his room. He heard some roughhousing in the hallway and went out to see what it was. Two of the seniors, Trip and Spence, were wrestling each other for a football and one slammed the other against the wall to wrench it out of his hands.

"Fuck you dude!" laughed Trip as Spence snatched the football. Chris stood at the door of his room, mouth agape. He was in heaven. Trip was wearing a pink Ralph Lauren oxford shirt with a little bead necklace and a white baseball cap on backwards. He had on khakis and teva sandals. His sleeves were rolled up and Chris could see his striated, buff forearms. Trip’s pecs were bulging out of the oxford.

Spence was wearing a blue striped Polo Ralph Lauren rugby shirt with a big preppy crest on the left chest. Chris popped a boner staring at Spence’s really wide back and lats stretching against the shoulders of his rugby.

Suddenly Chris heard a shout from the other end of the hall.

"Hey faggot, what you staring at?

Tucker, the varsity lacrosse captain, blonde and muscular with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, was glaring at Chris with a menacing look. Tucker was wearing a white Ralph Lauren polo shirt with the Polo logo on the chest and the collar turned up. He was totally buff and his rock hard chest was bulging out of the front of his polo stretching the fabric to the contour of his bulbous pecs.


They all laughed at Chris with derision, and Chris turned bright red.

"He wants you, Spence," Tucker laughed.

Chris slipped back into his room, dejected and totally upset. He was embarrassed, and felt hurt by their jeers. He jerked off furiously and wiped the cum from his hand with a tissue. He lay down on his bed with his face in his pillow.

"I don’t fucking belong in this school," he whispered to himself.

A little while later Chris’ roommate Justin came back from studying at the library.

"You look bummed, man," said Justin. Justin was a freshman too, skinny and lean, but athletic and on the JV tennis team.

"Those guys are jerks. I hate them," Chris said.

"Who?" Justin asked.

"Tucker, Spence, and Trip."

"Yeah," agreed Justin. "Those jock seniors are fucking arrogant. They could be nicer. They act like they own the place."

"Who's arrogant?" a voice said.

Chris and Justin turned to the door and saw the other freshman from their hallway, Tyler, standing in the doorway.

"Those guys," replied Chris. "Tucker, Spence, and Trip. They called me a faggot."

"Dude, they're totally just teasing," Tyler smiled.

But Chris and his roommate were now staring at Tyler’s arms.

"Dude…" Justin said quietly, non-chalantly. "Dude, you been working out?"

"Yeah bro, I been working out a little. With the other dudes down the hall."

Tyler smirked a little.

"With those seniors?" Justin asked, not believing. "They talk to you?"

"Yeah bro," says Tyler, a smug smile on his face. He squeezed his bicep a little.

Chris and his roommate looked at each other. This was the same Tyler who’d looked like a TWIG a week ago. Now he had two bulging biceps. His bodyfat was so low on his arms you could see a vein in each one. He crossed his arms and his biceps strained his sleeves.

"Gotta go, dudes," Tyler smiled, " Gotta work out in the basement of the dorm with the other guys tonight."

Tyler turned up the collar of his navy blue Ralph Lauren polo shirt and smiled at us.

"Want to come?" he said.

"Dude…" Chris and Justin both said.

Tyler disappeared down the hall.

"FUCK MAN!!!!" Chris whispered. "Did you see his arms?"

"Yeah, bro!"

"HOW THE FUCK did he get so big in like one week?"

"He's been working out with those seniors, dude."

"What is he like, taking roids or some shit?"

"I don’t know dude, but… hey…."


"Let's go work out with them too."

"Tonight?" asked Chris.

"Yeah, bro."

That night Justin and Chris were both pretty nervous. Chris didn’t want to go. He was afraid they might beat him up or call him a fag again. Justin tried to get him to come, but he wouldn’t. Finally Justin left.

Chris took a pink Ralph Lauren polo shirt out of his drawer. If he couldn’t work out with those guys, if he couldn’t get along with them, he could at least jerk off to them. The polo shirt had a light blue Polo logo on the chest. Chris put it on and I looked in the mirror. His white baseball cap was on backward. He looked skinny and had zit on his chin.

"I do not look buff. I do NOT look like I could ever look like those awesome, huge dudes," Chris said to himself in the mirror. He tried to imagine himself as one of those prepster jock studs who had been so mean to him.

Justin suddenly flew into the room, out of breath.

"Dude, let me borrow one of your polo's man."

"Why?" Chris said, puzzled.

"Just give me one, dude, please!!!" Justin’s face was totally red. But not as red as Chris’s, who had kinda been jerking off when Justin barged in.

"Dude, I’m real sorry I walked in on you." Justin ran to Chris’s dresser and pulled out a a blue Polo oxford. He ripped off his "Atari" t-shirt and put on the preppy shirt, buttoning it up. He changed to some khakis and then SHOVED Chris into the hallway.

"What the FUCK?" Chris shouted at him. "Asshole!"

"Dude, you GOT to come down in the basement man," Chris was feverish. "Come and work out with them—with us, man."

"I'm not in my gym clothes, dude," Chris said, totally confused.

"WHATEVER, just TRUST me," Justin said, with a smirk on his face Chris had never seen before.

"They gonna call me a fag again?" Chris asked. "Those guys hate me!"

Justin dragged Chris down into the basement.


"Come on bro, do it! Lock it out!"

Descending the dark stairs into the workout room, Chris heard the voice of Trip. He was talking to someone on a bench with a real concentrated voice.

Chris looked at the bench, and there was fucking Tyler, benching like 300 lbs The amount of weight was ridiculous. Chris got really turned on, but tried to hard to hide it—he was hardly aware of how erotic it was because he was working so hard to repress it.

Chris tried hard to hide his boner—he didn’t want these guys to see it.

"Wassup, guys," said Justin.

"AHHHHHHH....." says Spence, "It's the little Faggot and his girlfriend roomie."

"Dude, I'm not a faggot."

"Whatever," smiled the hot jock stud. Chris couldn’t stop staring at the defined, buff line of his pecs through the Ralph Lauren rugby.... •

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