The Crimson Circle
Copyright© 2025 by jamesbreitbart
Chapter 4
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 4 - The story of Nolan Pierce, a freshman at a prestigious boarding school with an influential network of secret societies and a number of storied traditions - many of which involve nudity.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt Teenagers Gay School Alternate History Humiliation Group Sex Interracial Exhibitionism First Masturbation Voyeurism Foot Fetish Public Sex Nudism Politics
Dylan Reed
Move-in day at Wilson was pretty hectic, and I didn’t get any time alone with my roommate Finn until the prefect Jamie sent us all to bed. We were stuck in our room, unable to go to the bathroom to change, which presented a problem because I didn’t know how modest Finn was. I decided the only thing to do was ask him directly.
“Are you okay with us getting changed in front of each other?”
“Yeah ... actually...”
“What is it?”
“At home I usually sleep naked. I mean, I’m totally fine with wearing pajamas if you’re more comfortable that way...”
“Don’t worry about it. I always went to soccer camp during the summer. They had group showers and shit got pretty wild when it was supposed to be lights out.” The counselors hadn’t gotten paid enough to do any more work keeping us in line than they absolutely had to.
“I bet you’ve got some cool stories.” Finn stood up and stripped naked. I noticed that he didn’t have any tan lines, which meant he probably did more than sleep naked. He was also uncircumcised, but that didn’t interest me as much. I’d seen and even jerked off with uncut guys before.
“I’d get in trouble if I told most of them.”
“That makes them even cooler.” Finn lay down in his bed and watched me change. “So, did you guys check each other out in the shower?”
“More than that,” I admitted.
“My brother Conor says guys check each other out here, too. He’s gay, though.”
“Are you?” I figured that since he had brought the subject up, it wasn’t weird of me to ask.
“Bi. You?”
“Maybe a little bi.”
Finn smiled wickedly. “Soccer camp?”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“So, we’ll both enjoy the showers. We need to check out Jamie.”
“Why?”
“So we can tell if he’s cool. If he’s in a secret society, he’ll have the emblem tattooed on his ass.”
“I didn’t know they got tattoos. That’s sick!”
“Yeah, I remember when Conor came back the summer after his freshman year, he couldn’t stop showing his off. God, I can’t wait to get mine.”
“So how do you join a secret society anyway?”
“They keep an eye on everyone the first few weeks and decide who to tap based on if you seem cool. Each society picks 15 members from the freshman class, and they knock on your door when they initiate you.”
“So, what if more than one picks you?”
“They work out the lists together, so each freshman only gets one tap. You have to accept or reject on the spot and then they take you away to the initiation.”
By this point I had changed into my pajamas and climbed into bed. We talked for a while about our home lives – Finn’s dad was the Governor of Washington, which was pretty cool even though he seemed modest about it – until we got sleepy.
The alarm clock woke us up at 7:00 the next morning. Finn stretched and stood up.
“You want to hit the shower before breakfast.”
“Might as well.” I stood up and stripped off, planning to walk to and from the shower in nothing but a towel and get dressed in my room. Finn, who didn’t need to take anything off, waited patiently.
There were two guys in the shower when we got there – Henry Langston, a swimmer from Florida, and Owen Fitzgerald, so far, the only openly gay kid on our hall. Owen looked straight at us when we walked in, as if daring us to make a homophobic remark.
“‘sup,” I nodded.
“‘sup,” Owen returned the greeting and raked me over with his eyes. I looked him over in return. He had a small tattoo of two interlocking male symbols on his hip.
“Nice ink,” I remarked, “where’d you get it?”
“A friend gave it to me.” Owen told the story of an older kid in his theater class in New York who’d decided to pursue a career as a tattoo artist and offered to tattoo Owen for practice. We all listened to the story and checked him out as he told it, making it clear without directly saying anything that we were cool with him being gay and we were all cool with being checked out by the others.
We all finished in the shower at the same time and walked back to our rooms with our towels wrapped around our waists to get dressed, then went down to breakfast with Nolan Pierce while his roommate Noah was in the shower. Nolan wasn’t the most talkative, but what he did say was usually funny, and he had a buttery southern accent. I thought he sounded sort of gay, but he hadn’t said anything. Owen certainly seemed interested in him.
After breakfast, we had more orientation activities – a tour of the library and computer lab, and then soccer tryouts. We’d been told to bring gear, a change of clothes, and soap for the showers. There were about 20 guys trying out.
For the first half-hour, we were basically running drills that I’d done a thousand times before at camps and my travel league. Then, the coach blew his whistle and brought some of the returning players onto the field. We were going to play against them – current players shirts, freshmen skins. We all left our shirts by the side of the field and went at it. Of course, we lost, but I managed a pair of assists, so I felt pretty good about my chances.
The coach blew the whistle and sent us all off to the showers, supervised by the team captain, Connor Hayes. It was the first time we got to really interact with the older players, and there was a lot of goofing off and towel snapping which Connor didn’t do much to stop. Most of it was directed against us by the upperclassmen, but some of them were nice. One of them took the showerhead next to me and struck up a conversation.
“You play midfield?”
“Yeah.”
“Good, we’ve got a lot of midfielders graduating next year.” That made me feel better about my chances. “My name’s Seb, by the way, Seb Morales.”
“Dylan.” I shook his hand and, in the process, noticed that he had a small tattoo of a black ring on his ass, to match the actual ring he wore on his finger. “Nice ink.”
“Thanks, it’s for the Sable Order.”
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