"You're not the boss of me, man!" Jeff said in a shaky, humiliated voice, though he had to admit to himself that for some strange reason he was looking right at Simon's crotch and feeling intrigued by the smell emanating from there. Jeff lifted his eyes back up across Simon's hairy, sweaty torso, lingering on the dark tufts of hair busting out from Simon's armpits. Had his face really been in one of those rank bushes? Did he get pit sweat on his face and on his lips? Why were those pits so... dark... and hairy... full of musky hair... so gross. And yet, Jef kind of wanted a closer look again, just so he would know for sure how gross it was, of course.
But too dangerous-- he had to get out of here. Jeff fought his curiosity and the weird impulses that had flashed through him and turned and ran down the hallway as fast as he could, feeling his white tube socks almost slip against the concrete. He felt embarrassed and weak, like a deer evading its hunter.
Simon took off after him and Jeff could hear Simon's powerful bare feet slapping and smacking against the concrete. Hopefully all that muscle would slow the jock down, Jeff was hoping, but he had seen how fast they can move on the football field.
Jeff had the head start, though, and had almost reached the end of the hall. He grabbed the silver doorknob of a door on the side of the hall, briefly shocked by a bit of static electricity that he didn't expect, and yanked open the big wooden door. He bolted inside and turned to shut it but just as he was slamming it closed, Simon stuck one powerful arm inside to hold it and shoved his way through the opening. It was no contest as Jeff's weak body was no contest for Simon's power.
Simon was laughing. "Working up a sweat, bro? You doin that on purpose?"
Jeff was already winded and a bit sweaty. He could tell he was stuck in a workout room with a pullup bar and a punching bag, some other stuff the jocks used. "I'm not a bro, I have to go..." Jeff said, looking at Simon's body with a mixture of horror and fascination. Being a jock was so gross... and yet, he kind of wanted to smell Simon's crotch, as awful as that sounded. He was sick and had to get out of here.
"You looking at something?" Simon said, flexing an arm, making his bicep jump up and letting all the hair in his smelly pit be on full display. Jeff couldn't believe it.
"What are you doing, man?" Jeff said, trying to make Simon feel embarrassed or self-conscious, but Jeff sounded puny, pathetic, and nervous even to himself.
"Smell my crotch, nerd," Simon said robustly. "You want to, don't you?"
"NO!" Jeff said, looking at the smell jockstrap Simon was wearing nonetheless.
"Yeah you do," Simon laughed.
"No, I... I don't... " Jeff said, "I'm just a little... ok, I am a little curious, but I don't want to. Ok just one whiff?" Jeff couldn't believe he just said that! Why did he say that??!
"Say you're a puny nerd and you want to smell my crotch."
"I'm a puny nerd and want to smell your crotch!" Jeff said, freaking out inside, but one whiff wasn't gonna hurt.
"Then come over here and smell it." Jeff walked over, knelt down, paused briefly, and then leaned his head in for just a whiff. He felt the ripe scent fill his nostrils. He moved his nose a little closer to where Simon's thigh met the jock strap, ignoring the pubic hairs that were spilling out, and stuck his nose into there, breathing deeply and greedily. Ok just a few more breaths. His nose was probably right in Simon's pubes which was so wrong but yet... Oh god, what was it about this smell?