Submitted by jcamarobt last March 8th 2007, 10:03 AM

Category: Sex Stories

Brocker



I felt comfortable going on the road with the team. It was minor
league but I was playing baseball and that was all that was
important. I didn't have any great hopes of ever making it to the
big leagues, but I was proud to wear the Colts uniform. All I had to
do was keep my little secret and be on my guard around the guys. I'd
done okay so far, but now we were going on the road and I would be
sharing a room with another guy in closer, more intimate quarters
than the casualness of the dugout. I was greatly relieved when I
learned that I was odd man out on the room assignments. I was
rooming alone. So I was okay till we got the news that John Brocker
was coming down to the Colts minor league.
Brocker was a major leaguer who had been in the papers and all over
the news for speaking out so bluntly against gays and coloreds. They
were sending him back to the minors to get his head on straight and
his shit together; a form of sensitivity training, they said. He was
a true homophobe. And I wasn't colored.
We got a lecture before practice about Brocker's arrival. "Okay,
listen up. You've all heard the rumor that John Brocker is joining
our team. The rumor is true. When he gets here, you don't give him a
hero's welcome or make a big fuss. That's straight from the front
office. He is one of you. Treat him that way. Brady, he'll be
rooming with you."
I felt a chill go down my spine and sweat break out on my forehead.
John Brocker was not only the biggest homophobe on the planet, he
was a stud, and I was going to have in my room. How the hell was I
going to manage to be around the big muscle-hunk who was so damned
good looking he made girls piss their pants if he even looked at
them. I couldn't protest or even question the decision, though. It
was a simple matter of me having a room to myself. If I'd been
black, I could have protested. But like I said, I'm not black. I am
gay and I couldn't admit it.
Brocker arrived in the team van that picked him up at the bus
station. Yeah, he had to bring the bus to training camp. He got his
gear out of the back and set it down and looked all around. Godd, he
looked studly standing there in his uniform with those tight pants
hugging his massive thighs and that big bulge of his cupped
manhood. "Brocker, join us!" the coach yelled. He picked up his
stuff and tossed it in the dugout and came onto the field with the
rest of us. He didn't act snobbish or anything. Cocky, maybe, but
that was his natural demeanor. "Guys, you all know John Brocker. I'm
not going to make introductions; you guys can introduce yourselves.
Now, let's play some ball. Brocker, you take left field."
He didn't say anything. His _expression didn't show that he was
unhappy about not playing center field or second base, the positions
he played in the majors. He sauntered out on the field with the rest
of us. The coach didn't treat him any differently than he did the
rest of us, but we did. This was John Brocker, and he was good. He
was better than any of us, but he didn't act like it. After practice
we boarded the bus and hit the road. It was sort of sad and lonely;
nobody there to say good-bye to anybody. They didn't allow that. We
stopped to eat supper about seven. The guys, including me, were
afraid to sit with Brocker and he ended up in a both by himself.
"Fuck, guys, I took a shower this morning," he complained.
Jason Wright poked me and said, "Let's go sit with him." We got up
and walked over to Brocker's booth, along with another guy. The
other two slid in on one side and I ended up sitting next to John.
He couldn't scoot over; his size required his full half of the seat
and our legs touched when I sat down. He jerked his knee away. The
conversation was strained at first, till John eased the tension.
"Look guys, I fucked up, didn't keep my mouth shut. I'm not sorry I
said what I did, although I had to make a public apology. So now I'm
here and I gotta tell you I don't mind it. I hope you don't mind my
being here."
"Naw, man, we don't mind," Jason said.
"We just need a little time to get used to have a major leaguer
playing with us," I said.
"I put my jockstrap on the same way you guys do," he said. We piled
out of the bus at a motel in some little town in Kansas about nine
that night. I guess Brocker didn't know he was rooming with me. It
never came up. Maybe he thought he would have his own room. If he
did, he found out different when the team manager gave us our room
assignments. Brocker didn't seem to mind that he was sharing a room.
I slid my key card in the lock and let us in. He closed the door and
turned the bolt and I felt like I had just been locked up in a
cell. "I'm gonna shower, okay? Or do you want it first?" he asked as
he tossed his bag on the bed nearest the window.
"No, go ahead, just don't use all the hot water," I said, half-
joking. I stretched out on the other bed and turned on the TV. John
started taking off his uniform. I tried not to watch, but I could
see him out of the corner of my eye and I had to force myself to
keep my eyes on the TV when he bared his upper body. Dam, he was
built! Muscles layered over muscles, and he was a lot smoother than
I expected him to be. He took off his shoes and socks and undid his
pants. I braved a glance at him as he stood there in his
jockstrap. "Fuckin' cup, I should have taken it out before we got on
the bus," he growled as he unsnapped the pouch and pulled the cup
out and tossed it on the bed. In that daring glance I saw how the
pouch of his jockstrap seemed to fill out, like his manhood was
relaxing from the tight confines of the hard cup. God, I thought,
how big can he be! It was only a glance, and I forced my eyes
forward as he peeled his jockstrap down and kicked it aside. When he
walked by me I nearly lost it. He was an absolutely beautiful male;
a symphony of muscle in motion, and his manhood was something to
behold. He hung out in a cocky sort of arch, about six inches,
swinging back and forth over his balls as he walked. I let my eyes
follow him as he walked past and he couldn't see me watching. His
butt made my ache inside. He went into the bathroom and closed the
door. I was in a terrible sweat. I can't do this, I thought. I can't
be cooped up in the same room with this stud night after night for
the whole fuckin' summer.
But there was no place on earth that I'd rather be. I was where
every gay in the country only dreamed of being. I eyed the cup lying
on the bed. He would be at least a few minutes. I picked up the cup
and but it over my face and breathed in the dull, musky aroma so
fresh from his manhood. Then I saw the jockstrap, all rumpled in a
heap, still stretched to the form of his manhood. I took careful
note of how it was arranged and picked it up. It was still warm. I
put it to my face and breathed in and out, drinking in the fresh
smell of his manly sweat. I felt dizzy and my cock began to get
hard. I can't let this happen, I told myself. I put the cup back in
precisely the same spot on his bed and arranged his jockstrap on the
floor as I'd found it. I just hoped he didn't notice it had been
touched. I was nervous as hell about him coming back out and me
having to strip down in front of him. I'm built, and hung well, but
Brocker was awesome. I hit on a solution. I undressed and crawled in
bed and when Brocker came back out I pretended to be asleep.
He turned the TV down and I heard him getting into bed then the
light went out. I was safe for the moment. At least till next
morning. I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder and opened my eyes
to get the jolt of my life. There was Brocker, standing beside my
bed, naked with his huge cock practically hanging over my
face. "Better shag ass," he said. "We've got a game to play."
I stretched and flung the covers off. I had to shower. Brocker was
still in his shorts when I came out of the shower. "I guess there's
no rush. I forgot the time change. We've got an extra hour," he
said. Okay, I could survive the next hour, but barely. If Brocker
looked awesome when he was naked, he nearly matched it in those tiny
white briefs that were stretched to the limit trying to contain his
manhood. He caught me looking at him a couple of times but I tried
to pretend I was looking out the window and I don't think he caught
on.
We won the game and moved on. No time for celebration or glory;
there was no glory in a minor league road team winning a game with
no fans. We were pretty much alone among ourselves while the
opposing team had their fans to cheer them on. That night some of
the guys were going out on the town. They asked me and Brocker to go
along. "I can't," he said.
"Why?" I asked.
"I'm confined to the room."
"What! How come? What'd you do?" I asked. I couldn't imagine that
he'd gotten in trouble with the coach already.
"They don't want me seen out in public except on the field till this
shit blows over."
"That's shit," someone said.
"Tell me about it," he said. We went on without him. I felt bad. By
the third night it was getting to him. Nathan Black was in our room
and John was bitching about having to live like a nun. "Hell, I
think I would just about settle for one of those fags I slammed," he
said.
"Maybe we could find you a woman, bring her back here," Nathan said.
John's eyes lit up. "Well, they didn't say I couldn't have a woman
in my room," he said thoughtfully. "It's not exactly public," Nathan
said.
"The coach would shit," John said.
The coach doesn't have to know," Nathan said. "Hell, do you think he
cares how many women are sneaked into the rooms?"
John laughed, shaking his head. "This is so fuckin' different. We
used to have women waiting outside our room when he we got to a
hotel. One time I had two women waiting inside my room."
"This is the minors," Nathan reminded him.
"Yeah, I remember the minors," John said in a melancholy tone.
"But there are women in every town anxious to get laid by an
athlete," Nathan said.
"See what you can find," John said. "And hey…" He dug out his wallet
and handed me some money. "Pick me up some condoms, will you? Extra
large."
I went with Nathan. "Extra large? Fuck, he must be hung like a
horse. How big is extra large, anyway?
"I don't know. I've never seen him hard," I said.
We found out how big he might be. We bought a box of a dozen plus a
pack of three. I tore open one of the packages and unrolled the
condom then blew in it to see its capacity. "Goddam! If he can fill
that thing up, this broad's not going to be able to walk for a
week," Nathan said.
I was guessing I would have to be with Nathan for most of the night
if we found John a woman. We found a sports bar that a lot of the
guys had already discovered. "Shit, they've got women hanging all
over them," I said.
"Well we'll have to pull one of them off and drag her back to the
motel."
"Tell her who's waiting at the motel and you won't have to drag her
off."
"Hey, where's Brocker?' somebody asked.
"He's restricted to the room," I said.
"Why, what'd he do now?"
"Nothing. He just can't leave the room at night and be seen in
public."
"For the entire summer?"
"That's what he said."
"Fuck, that's gotta be tough; a guy who's use to beating the women
off with a ball bat."
One of the women was paying closer attention than we thought, and
knew her baseball. "Wait a minute, you saying John Brocker is back
at your motel?" she asked in disbelief.
"He's his roommate," he said, pointing to me.
"I heard he was going to be sent back to the minors as punishment
but…ohh my God, I can't believe it.
"Would you like to meet him?" Nathan asked her quietly.
"Oh, yes! He is so hot and sexy. Do you think he'll see me?"
"Trust me," Nathan said. The three of us left and returned to the
room. John was lying on the bed in his tiny white briefs. He barely
looked up when Nathan and I walked into the room.
"No luck, huh?" he said, his eyes on the TV.
"Look again," I said. He looked over and his eyes popped. "Holy
Shit!" he gasped as he sat on the edge of the bed. "This is Angela.
She wanted to meet you," Nathan said.
"Well, I'm very glad to meet you, Angela," he said. He came right
over to her and took her hand and kissed it. I watched in awe. He
didn't give it a second thought that all he had on was his briefs.
I'm sure she did, though, the way she was looking at him. I think
she understood that she would get to more than meet John Brocker.
"Look, Brady and I are going back to the bar," Nathan said.
"Yeah…see you guys later…thanks."
When I glanced over my shoulder, Brocker already had his arms around
her and was squirming and writhing his mostly naked body against
her. Damn, I thought, she was going to get her eyeballs fucked right
out of her head--lucky bitch!
Nathan and I joined the others at the sports bar and I played their
game with the women except that I didn't try to pick one up and take
her back to my room. Thankfully, I had the perfect excuse. My room
wasn't available. I decided to go check on the situation back at the
motel, to see if I had a place to sleep yet. Angela was coming out
of the room just as I walked up. I whistled for my cab to wait. She
was disheveled and she looked a little dazed, almost as if she
didn't recognize me at first. I walked her to the cab.
"Everything they say about John Brocker is true," she said. "My God,
he's a stud! I just want to thank you for the most wonderful night
of my life."
"Hey, I didn't do it, he did," I said, jokingly. When I went inside,
John was lying in bed with the sheet up to his waist with a
satisfied smile on his handsome face. The air was thick with the
smell of raw sex.
"Thanks, man," he said.
"Sure, anytime. It's gotta be hell being confined, with your
reputation."
"Do I have a reputation?" he asked with a grin.
"Shit, every guy on the team wishes he was in your shoes."
"Not right now," he said.
"Yeah, right now--this is just temporary."
"I don't know. I can't see them sending me back up to the majors. I
think I'm gonna be traded or sold, if anybody will have me," he
said. "But fuck it. I'm playing ball and I'm with a great bunch of
guys. I can live on the money I've already made." "That must be a
good feeling." I said. We talked well into the night, about
everything, and I felt I really got to know him. And for a brief
time I saw John Brocker as something besides a hot, sexy stud,
although I never lost my appreciation for his bared muscular body. I
felt more at ease with him; and felt it would be easier to keep my
secret. Till one night it all came out. He guessed. All because some
words came out of my mouth wrong and I wasn't able to cover them.
I was lying on my bed, freshly showered, and John was drying off
after his shower, his muscles rippling, his big cock dancing, and
for a fateful moment, I looked at him--really looked. I guess I was
gazing at him.
"What're you looking at?" he asked gruffly.
I snapped back to reality. "You're really built. It's hard not to
notice."
"You're built damned good yourself," he said.
"But not like that," I said. I don't know if there was a fleeting
glance at his manhood when I said it or if read the wrong meaning
into it, but I knew instantly from his look that I'd said the wrong
thing. My gut tightened. Shit, if he got mad and hit me, with the
size of his arms he would knock me dead.
"Are you talking about my body or my cock?" he asked.
"Well, it's pretty hard not to notice that, too," I said, trying to
sound light- hearted.
"Yeah, well, don't notice too much. I hate guys staring at my cock.
I know I'm big."
"Oh, really. If you hate it so much, why do you parade around
naked?"
"I'm not parading," he said with a scowl. "I'm drying off."
"You could do that in the bathroom and come out in your shorts.
Although those briefs you wear don't conceal much." Damn, where did
that come from! I was burying myself. "You're noticing too damned
much about me," he said as he rummaged in his bag for a clean pair
of shorts.
"I was going to ask you where you get our underwear. I'd like to get
some like it."
He tossed me a pair of his shorts. "Here, you can have these."
"Thanks," I said, snatching them out of the air.
"Hey, I shouldn't have growled at you. Fuck, yeah, I like people
looking at me; what the hell good is being built like this if nobody
notices. But sometimes I can't help wondering what's behind the
looks and it gives me the creeps."
"You seem to enjoy it when the cameras are in the locker room and
you're strutting around with no shirt, or with a towel on. Why would
it give you the creeps if some babe was ogling you and thinking she
would like to get in bed with you, which is what they're all
thinking. They're all hoping that towel falls off."
"I was talking about fags."
"Why should that bother you, you're not going to bed with them," I
said.
"Hell, you can't be the thought police."
I just don't like it," he said.
"Yeah, the whole world knows that," I said.
He ended the conversation with his silence when he got in bed but I
knew deep down that there had been a seed of doubt planted in his
handsome head. Part of me hoped the seed sprouted and bore fruit.
Part of me was scared it would. I couldn't help thinking how great
it would be if John knew I was gay and he was okay with it and we
were rooming together. I half hoped he guessed, if he didn't go on a
rampage and kill me. I wasn't going to come out to him. Nobody on
the team knew.
I woke up later in the night, unable to sleep. John was stretched
out across his bed on his stomach; his arms overhead, one leg
straight out, the other one cocked out and his cock and balls were
lying back between his legs. My eyes fell to his gorgeous butt and
wouldn't move. I just sat there and gazed at him, my mouth watering
for his butt. Damn, how I would like to bury my face in those tight,
round buns. I knew he would like it if he could just get past the
gay thing. I got a hardon. He was so damned gorgeous he gave me a
hardon! I stood up and stepped closer to his bed. I knelt down for a
precious moment, close enough that I could feel his body heat. I was
sorely tempted but scared as hell. I stood back up. If he happened
to wake up and catch me knelt down beside his bed hell would open up
and swallow me.
My cock ached it was so hard. It'd been too long and chances of
running into a guy to have sex with were pretty slim. I went to the
bathroom to jack off. But John's naked body drew me like a magnet. I
stepped out of the bathroom and stood there in the soft darkness and
jacked off while I looked at his body. I pretended my cock was his
cock, and that my chest was his. I shot off in my hand. I caught
pretty much all of it but it was overflowing my hand and running
down my fingers. I went in the bathroom to rinse my hand off then
got some toilette paper and cleaned up the spots off the floor. I
slept good for the rest of the night but I knew the horse was out of
the barn. I was sure John knew, and he would be biding his time to
trip me up. I thought I might ask for a room transfer, but I would
have to give a reason. And besides, I couldn't deny myself the sight
of the big stud every morning and night. That was worth any risk.
For some reason, the next morning John sat with me on the bus. Not
that he avoided me before but he it looked like he sought me out. I
was especially surprised after the exchange we'd had the night
before. Part of me hoped that maybe we were becoming more than just
room mates. Maybe we were becoming friends, of sorts. He dozed off
and his leg leaned against mine. I wiled the miles away; I sat and
looked at his massive thighs and the mighty bulge between them. When
he woke up he stretched his legs, pressing his right leg against my
left before he casually moved it away.
That night's game, somewhere in Missouri, tied and went into extra
innings and it was late when we got to the motel. John was
irritable. I tried to overlook it till he hit me with a bombshell.
He had come out of the bathroom after his shower wearing a white T-
shirt and those tiny white briefs, I guess as a result of our
conversation the night before, he decided he wouldn't run around
naked. He looked hot; about as sexy in his clothes as he did naked.
"You're a fag, aren't you?" He asked.
I was visibly taken aback. "I never put that label on myself," I
said.
"But you are. I'm reading all the signs."
"What signs?"
He laughed. Hey, you don't get built like I am without getting used
to the looks," he said.
"So you're used to it, why should any of it bother you?" I asked.
"Hey, do you want a piece of me," he barked in a belligerent tone.
"Not the way you mean it," I snapped back.
"Okay…do you want a piece of me," he asked again, this time grabbing
his shorts.
I was about ready to melt and run down in a heap at the way the
conversation was going. I looked at his arm bulging out of his shirt
sleeve. "The way you feel about fags, do you think I'm crazy enough
to fall for that? I want to live to play another game."
He backed down a little. "Hey, I hate fags, I don't hate you," he
said. "Where and how do you draw the distinction?" I asked.
"You're my room-mate, my team-mate."
"From what I've read, that never mattered before."
"I thought we were starting to get along," he said.
"I never know what the hell you're thinking," I said. "I don't know
whether you're going to be cordial one minute, or break my neck the
next."
He sighed. "Yeah, I'm supposed to be working on that," he said.
"If they ask me, I'd have to say it's not working so far."
"Hey, I wasn't setting you up," he said. "I was only asking."
"You hate fags but you don't hate me because I'm your team mate and
your roommate. Is that because I'm handy and you're confined to the
room? You wanta use me?" Shit, I didn't care if he used me. I would
be his fuckin' slave…but I wanted to clear the air between us. "I
didn't intend it to be that way. I just…well, I wouldn't object to a
mutually agreed arrangement."
"And that means? You're not going to break me in two if I make a
pass at you?"
"I don't understand. I thought this was what gay guys went for," he
said, motioning to his body.
"Oh, you're a fuckin' dream," I told him. "I just don't know whether
to trust you. I don't know what your mood is going to be afterwards,
whether you're going to announce to the entire team that you had sex
with me, or beat the shit out of me."
"I wouldn't do that."
"You outed one of your former team mates; damn near ruined his
career," I reminded him.
"No, the front office knew he was queer. Everybody on the team knew
it."
"But you were the one who made an issue of it." "He made an issue of
it when he made a pass at me in the showers," he said.
"I rest my case," I said.
"Hey, if you don't want it, okay; we both loose," he said with a
shrug.
"I do," I blurted in a way that turned his head. "Fuck, it's like
living a dream and a nightmare at the same time. Shit, man, I jacked
off the other night just watching you sleep. But you're damned
intimidating. You don't know how scared I was when I found out we
were rooming together. The biggest homophobe in the nation, and I
get him for a room mate."
"I'm supposed to be working on that, too," he said.
"So what's your plan, to go back and tell the front office that you
roomed with a fag, you even had sex with him, so you're cured of
your homophobia?"
"You know something? I'm not going back to the majors. They know it
and I know it. I'm just biding my time till my contract runs out.
Maybe I'll get lucky and get traded but I doubt it. I'm damaged
goods. Maybe I'll play in the Canadian leagues or go to Japan."
"I feel bad about that," I told him.
He gave me a knowing smile. "You really jacked off watching me
sleep?"
"Yeah."
"You don't have to do that anymore," he said. "I'm willing if you're
interested." He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his
briefs. "But if you're not, tell me so I don't waste my time taking
these off."
"You won't be wasting your time," I assured him.
He pulled the shorts off his hips and stopped. "Do you want to take
them off?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said, my eyes glued to his briefs. He walked over and
stood in front of me, his feet planted wide and his hands on his
hips; a typical studly stance for John. I hooked my fingers in the
waist band and pulled his shorts the rest of the way down. Down,
down, down, practically to his knees before the end of his cock was
freed. It swung up and hit me in the chin.
"Hello, there," John said.
I pushed his shorts down and he stepped out of them and there I was
face to face with possibly the biggest cock in captivity. It hung
out about nine inches now, still rubbery, not hard, thick as hell,
and pulsating bigger. "Geezuss, how big is it gonna get?" "Maybe
it's better if you don't know," he said. "Twelve inches."
"Damn!"
"Yeah, it can get pretty uncomfortable, stuffing everything inside
that damned cup," he said. His cock got bigger--and bigger. I
thought it had reached the twelve-inch mark but it kept growing,
straighter and longer and thicker and my eyes were popping. What the
fuck was I going to do with it! I watched it throb to its full size
and hardness. It stuck out and up, quivering when it throbbed,
bowing its head slightly, and then thrusting up again. He was oozing
cock-honey out the slit.
"My Godd!" I gasped as his cock expanded one more time. "My Godddd!
Goddam, I never seen a cock this big," I said.
He chuckled softly. He twisted his hips, making his cock sway back
and forth in my face. I knew I had to get to it, and I wanted to,
but I was so afraid I wouldn't be able to do him justice and satisfy
him. This cock needed an expert. I was good in that I loved cock,
but I didn't consider myself an expert. I leaned in with my hands on
my knees and lapped the ball juice as it boiled out of the wide
slit. I relished the taste of him. I pulled on his cock and cupped
and squeezed his balls with my other hand. "These feel like two
softballs," I said.
"Yeah, they're nice and full, too. I wrapped my hand around his cock
as far as my fingers would reach. I put my other hand around it and
there was still more cock sticking out my fists than I could get in
my mouth. I opened my mouth and stretched my jaws, not at all sure
if the huge cock would fit in my mouth. I wet my lips and took a
deep breath then put my mouth around the head of his cock. "Awww,
Sweet Geezussss!" he gasped, tossing his head back as he thrust his
hips forward.
Maybe I would be able to satisfy him after all, if he was acting
like that before I even did anything. I would soon discover that
John was easy to satisfy, partly because he'd never had anybody
really suck his cock. "Shit, I can't do this justice," I said.
"It's ain't looking for justice," he said. I opened my mouth and he
shoved his cock in. I had to really force it to get down on the
shaft far enough to touch my lips to my hand. He fucked my hands and
my mouth and I wondered how he ever found a woman who could take
him. He must, though, for he always had women all over him. Most of
what I did to make him feel good was with my tongue. I lashed it
around the head and swirled it back and forth along the tender spot
on the underside of the head. It made his cock twitch and him groan.
The bluish veins bulged with his life's blood. I could feel the
seminal vein sliding across my tongue, about an inch wide. I must
deliver one hell of a load, I thought. I was in a state of absolute
ecstasy with my mouth and both hands filled with his incredible
cock. I had to tell myself, `I'm sucking John Brocker's cock..the
John Brocker who hates gays."
He pulled his cock free and smacked it against my face like a club.
I shut my eyes and happily took the beating. He shoved it back in my
mouth, lodging it hard against the back of my throat. I held my
ground at first but I was afraid he might force it into my throat
and I pulled back. "I can't take it all the way," I told him.
"I know. You don't have to."
"I told you, I can't do it justice."
"Oh, you're doing it justice, buddy. Goddam, you've got a wicked
tongue."
"Just so the question doesn't come up at the crucial moment, you can
shoot in my mouth if you want to."
"That'd be great. But it's not going to be any time soon. I want
this to last all night. I gotta warn you, though, there's an awful
lot of it," he said.
"The more the better," I said.
"Okay, but you don't know what you're asking for," he said.
I began to think he WAS going to last all night. I sucked him till
my jaws were getting sore. He pulled his cock out again and held it
up against his belly. "Give your jaws a rest and suck my balls. I
want to see what feels like." I tilted my head and took his left one
in my mouth and washed it with my tongue. "Awwwhhhhhhhh, fuck that
feels great!"
It tasted good, too, and felt great in my mouth. I went to the other
one. They were too big to get them both in my mouth at the same time
as I liked to do. I was heady from the manly smell of him. I lapped
my tongue way back under his balls where his cock came out of his
body. I hoped to plant the seed but I would wait till later to see
if the seed took on life. I wasn't sure he was ready or could handle
me tonguing his ass. Hi might freak out over that. As much as I
loved sucking his magnificent cock I was happy for him to finish. I
was getting tired, believe it or not, and my throat was pretty sore
from the incessant pounding. And on top of that, I wanted to
experience his climax; to taste his cum, and see how much `an awful
lot of it' would be. I knew instinctively that I was in for a treat.
A stud like him could do nothing less than deliver a stupendous
load. It took both hands and my mouth to accommodate his mammoth
size but I formed a pussy for him with a lashing tongue at the end.
It finally brought him around.
"Oh, fuck…you're getting me close," he gasped, putting his hand on
top of my head. I didn't let up. I sucked him till his legs were
shaking and his hips were lurching out of control. I brace myself
for the unknown. "Ohhh…..Ohhh, fuck…..here it comes!"
He barely got the words out of his mouth when he let loose with a
gusher. I could actually hear the stuff gushing up through his cock,
swelling the big seminal vein along the bottom of the shaft. The
stuff surged over my lower lip and blasted against the back of my
throat like hot honey. I was startled by the power of it. He shot
out another thick rope of cum and a third and my mouth was full.
There wasn't much room for much more than his cock anyway. I
swallowed but my mouth was filled again almost immediately. My God,
he was going to drown me with it! I was surprised at the power and
amount of cum he was shooting, but I was amazed that he didn't stop.
I wondered how much more he could have left, and all the while he
was spurting hot cum in my mouth. Finally, the power subsided and
the stuff boiled out of his cock over my tongue. I swallowed still
another mouthful and his cock began to calm down. It didn't go soft
but it lost some of its quivering steel-hardness. His legs were
still shaking so bad he had to get his weight off of them. He pulled
his cock out of my mouth and stumbled backwards to sit on the edge
of his bed.
"Damn, when you say there's a lot of it…," I gasped.
"Holy Shit! I never shot off like that before!" he gasped. "It felt
like you were gonna suck my nuts right up through my cock."
"I thought you were going to drown me," I said.
He laughed and plopped back across the bed, his chest still heaving.
Cum was still boiling out of his cock, but I didn't make any move to
get it. I wasn't that sure of him yet. I didn't know what his
attitude would be now that he was satisfied. "Was that really your
first blowjob?" I asked.
"Yeah, you're the lucky first," he said. "Oh, there have been plenty
of women go down on me, but they can't handle it for shit. This was
better than anything I ever had. Better than I ever imagined."
"Next time, I'm going to take it all the way down my throat," I said
as a way of testing him to see if he would let it happen again. He
just smiled. I wished he would say something, but he closed his eyes
with a dreamy look on his face, and within minutes he was asleep.
I was as much at ease with John as with any room mate I'd ever had,
gay or straight. He was like a different man, even with the other
guys. It was as if I'd softened him around the edges. Being alone
with him in our room was the most special time of any day. I never
lingered over supper and I didn't go out to the bars or nightclubs
unless John indicated that he wanted me to find him a woman. I would
go find him one and bring her back to the room and join the others
at the bar for the length of time he said he needed alone with her.
He didn't always ask for a woman though, and those nights we both
stayed in and I knew he wanted me to suck his cock.
He had to have sex every day, and he had to have it for a long time.
So I was his outlet when he didn't want a woman. I was especially
happy for those many times that he actually chose me over a woman. I
was in my own little heaven when I was stretched out between John's
muscular thighs, lapping on his balls and sucking his incredible
cock. I languished in the aftermath of his climax when he would
explode a huge load of hot cum in my mouth and watch me as I gulped
it down. He loved to see me swallow it. He liked to shoot on my face
too, then scoop it up with his fingers and feed it to me. It excited
him that I liked his cum. Every time I sucked his cock I naturally
worked down to his balls, which he loved, and down there I was only
inches from the forbidden portal of his very being. I wanted so bad
to show him how wonderful I could make him feel with my tongue but I
couldn't work up the nerve. Till one night when he was stretched out
on his stomach, I was compelled to make my pitch. His gorgeous butt
sticking up so nice and round and hard made my mouth water. I had to
have him.
"Want me to start from the back tonight?" I asked smartly.
He looked over his shoulder at me. "Forget it. If there's an ass in
this entire world that ain't gonna get fucked, you're looking at
it."
"You think I'm that stupid? I wasn't talking about fucking it. I was
talking about eating it." "Eating?…my ass?...fuck, are you serious?"
"Yeah. Just let me show how good it can feel," I said.
"Fuck yeah. Go ahead, chow down," he said, spreading his legs out
wide. He jutted his butt up, clenching the taut muscles. I lay
between his legs and began kissing his butt. He sort of
trembled. "I've told a lot of people to kiss my ass, but this is the
first time anybody ever did it," he said.
I dragged my tongue along the crevice and he relaxed the muscles. I
pulled them apart and buried my face between them. "Awwwhhhhhhh," he
moaned softly as I lashed at his asshole with my tongue. "Ohh, fuck,
that feels good!" I pulled his butt wider apart, digging my fingers
between his buns to stretch his hole open. I could see the velvety-
soft inner lining palpitating anxiously. I flicked the hole then
drove my tongue inside him. "AAAAaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ohhh….Ohh,
Goddd…holy shit, man, what're you fuckin' doing! Ohh, Geezusss…"
I gave him a run for his money, non-stop, till he was a blithering
idiot then I stopped abruptly. "Turn over on your back and pull your
legs up against your chest," I told him. He quickly obliged. I lay
gazing at his clenching hole, wet with my spit. I flicked at it and
he trembled. I licked it and he groaned. I tongued him and he nearly
screamed. I wanted to use my fingers and get in contact with his
prostate but I thought it too risky. To John Brocker, a finger up
his ass would be too much like getting fucked. I had it in my mind
to make him cum with my tongue and I wanted to make him shoot all
over himself. He was thrashing his butt around, moaning and choking
and squealing with pleasure. The way he begged me to get my tongue
in deeper, maybe I could've used a finger or two but I didn't take
the chance. I was driving him crazy with just my tongue, making it
so good that maybe he would welcome my finger next time. All I had
to do was get my finger on his prostate and I would have him.
"Awwhhh, you gotta stop!" he gasped. "Ohh, fuck, you gotta stop
before I cum. Mannn… ohhhh, shit…ohhhhh, stop…stop…it's too good!"
"No," I said. "I want to drive you over the top." He didn't stop me
so I fluttered my tongue around inside his soft ass to bring him
over the top. He was close; it wouldn't take much. Suddenly, his
asshole spasmed around my tongue and I knew he was cumming. He
choked on his cries, unable to beg me to stop. I tilted his hips
higher, bending him in half. He was in a frenzy. He was incoherent.
He was cumming. The set of muscles that propelled his load out of
his body were powerful, like the rest of him. "Awwwhhhhh," he
moaned. "Awww, fuck, man…cumming all over myself," he whined. I
tilted him higher and his cries were suddenly muffled and I knew he
was shooting all over his face and probably got some in his mouth. I
hoped so. I held him bent in half till he tightened his abs to
propel himself straight. He instinctively sucked in air and suddenly
jumped up and rushed to the bathroom. I saw his cum streaming down
his face and neck and his chest.
The water turned on and I heard him gagging and spitting. I sat on
my own bed with my back against the headboard. I didn't know what
the next few minutes would bring--possibly his wrath for what I had
done to him. Much to my surprise he came out of the bathroom
laughing. "Fuckin' shot in my mouth," he said. "Geezuss, that stuff
tastes like shit. How do you take it?"
"It's a matter of taste," I said.
"You can have it," he said. "Shit, I can't believe you made me cum
without even touching my cock."
"That usually gets them every time," I said.
"I didn't even know guys had feelings in their ass."
"More than you know," I said. I only hoped I would have the chance
to show him.
One night after a game we had eaten supper in a small café, straight
off the field then went back to our rooms to shower. He was lying on
his bed, naked, when I came out of the shower, drying off. I walked
over to the window to look out, with my back to him. "Whew!" he
whistled softly. I glanced over my shoulder.
"I've noticed guys' butts before…you know…bodybuilder butts…but
never like I'm noticing yours right now," he said, boldly looking at
my naked body. He'd never looked at me like that before, so bold.
"Giving you any ideas?" I asked cockily.
"Should it?" he asked.
"Could your ego handle fucking a fag?" I said jokingly.
"Okay, I deserved that," he said. "Seriously, do you fuck?"
"Yes." "Can you take this?" he said, fisting his cock.
"I'll sure as hell try," I said.
"Fuck, man, let's do it," he said excitedly.
I went into the bathroom and got myself ready, adding the final
touch after I had lubed up my ass, by spraying some good-smelling
body splash all over my body.
"Fuck, you smell good," he said when I came out of the bathroom I
handed him the lube and he stood off the bed and squeezed some on
his cock. I took his place on the bed on my back, my legs spread in
welcome. I figured John would want me on my back, like he would fuck
a woman. He crooked his arms under my knees and pulled me to the
edge of the bed and laid my legs on his shoulders. He set his knees
in the mattress and aimed his cock at my ass. I felt it spread my
butt apart, burrowing between my buns till it was pressing against
my hole. "Take it easy till I get used to it," I told him.
"Sure. Is this the biggest cock you ever had?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure you can take it?"
"Yes, if it kills me," I said.
He was good about working me up to it. He worked his cock back and
forth against my asshole, stretching the network of muscles around
it, pushing my asshole in without bursting through it. He had me
feeling good but I wished he would use his fingers first to get me
warmed up and stretched. He had huge fingers; that in itself would
be like getting fucked. It hit me hard when the head of his cock
popped through my hole.
"UUuuunnhhhhnnnnnnnn!" I groaned.
"That's gotta be hell, but you wanted it," he said and he didn't
stop. He buried about half of his cock in my guts before he began
encountering obstacles. He probed and poked and I winced with pain.
"I guess that's as far as we go," he said.
"No. All the way," I said.
"It ain't gonna go all the way. I hit something."
"Work around it," I said, twisting my butt around to assist him.
He probed at different angles and a smile came across his face as
his cock moved past the obstacles and went deeper. The girth of his
cock was the hardest to take. He stretched me so that I had to hope
my asshole would close back up. By the time he got done, it would be
loose and stretched enough to drive a Mack truck up inside me. Half
way in he started fucking me. He was afraid to give me all twelve
inches. It felt good and I appreciated his concern, but I wanted it
all. Even I didn't know how I was going to handle it, where it was
all going to fit, but I was determined to have his balls smacking
against my butt when he fucked me.
"You've got a tight ass," he said. "And hot."
"It gets hotter the deeper you go," I said.
"You really want all twelve inches?" he asked.
"Yes."
He began fucking me deeper till he hit a barrier deep inside me. It
felt strangely good, even through the pain and I could tell it
wasn't some obstacle he could work around. It was a place nobody had
ever touched before. Maybe it was the bottom of my ass. He slid his
cock back out of me then back in till he hit the barrier again.
Finding his depth, he started a rhythm. There was no particular
technique or finesse with John. For him it was a matter of pumping
his massive cock in and out of my stretched hole. Pretty soon he was
picking up the pace. "Slow down," I said. "You gotta take it
easy." "Sorry, I only know one way to fuck; hard and fast. You said
you wanted all of it."
As much as I wanted this, I was still a little worried about him
tearing my ass apart. "Just let me get a little more used to it," I
said. He was banging the head of his cock against the drum head till
it was feeling less and less uncomfortable, on the way to feeling
good. I just knew there was something on the other side of that
barrier that would feel damned good and I wanted to know what was
back there. I held him tight to my body and when he probed deep and
ground the barrier against the head of his cock.
"I'm hitting something in there. Is that what's hurting?"
"It's a strange sort of hurt," I said.
"I've got something that'll help." He reached over and got a bottle
of poppers that I didn't know was there. "You ever tried this?" he
said, uncapping the bottle.
"Yeah, but it makes me loose my hardon," I said.
"We're not worrying about your hardon," he said, holding the bottle
to my nose. I didn't argue with him. John Brocker wasn't a man you
argued with when he was looming over you with all those muscles and
his massive cock buried in your ass. You succumbed and pretty much
did what he said. I sucked in the poppers till my head started to
spin.
"Okay, give me some more," I said, as the stuff began to take over
my body. John held the bottle out to me again. "No, more of your
cock," I said.
He complied happily, pushing another inch or so in me, stretching
the drum-head barrier. I ground my butt down on it and all of a
sudden his cock broke through. Suddenly I was seeing stars and my
toes curled. The sensation was incredible. I'd never felt so damned
full in my life. It was almost overwhelming. I wanted all of him
now. I wanted him to fill me with his huge cock till I felt it in my
throat. He picked up on it and slid the rest of his meat deep inside
me. When I felt his balls against my ass I shuddered, knowing I had
al twelve inches inside me. Not that there was any doubt. His cock
slid back and forth through the second sphincter a couple of times
and it was almost more than I could take. He sensed that, too, and
started to pull back. "Leave it in," I begged.
"No problem," he said, pounding his cock deeper. I held him tight
while he wrenched his cock around in my butt, stretching the
sphincter-barrier that he'd opened up. The fullness of his cock made
me really want to get fucked.
"Fuck me," I told him.
"Gladly." He complied again. Taking longer and longer strokes, he
dragged my guts out with his up stroke and rearranged them again
with his down stroke. He opened the second sphincter wide, exposing
a pleasure I'd never known before. The sensation of him tearing
through me was like an itch that was scratched every time the
bulbous head tore back and forth through the deepest hole. Within a
few minutes, I was his, totally and completely. I was his moaning,
whimpering whore. He was plunging the entire twelve-inch length of
his cock in and out of my ass. Added to that, my prostate was being
worked over with each thrust, forcing cock honey out of me in a
steady boiling stream. I knew I wasn't going to be able to out last
him. He was just too fuckin' good. I let nature take its course. I
surrendered completely to the big stud who had taken control of me.
When he picked up the pace to a balls-to-the-wall fuck I knew I was
going to spew. A couple minutes later my body shuddered with the
onset of a massive orgasm.
"Getting close?" he asked.
"I can't stop it." I moaned. "God, it's just too fuckin good! I'm
gonna cum!"
"Goddam, you are so tight and hot. I'm gonna loose it too," he
gasped.
"Fuck me, awwww, fuck me," I screamed as my orgasm hit and I
snapped. Volley after volley of hot cum shot out of my quivering
cock. It was so hot it almost burned, and so thick it felt like it
was having trouble being spurted out. My entire asshole undulated
around the rutting rod that filled me so completely.
"Oh god, I'm fuckin' cumming in your ass!"
"Give it to me Brocker," I yelled.
I felt six or eight strong spurts of cum flood my entrails before he
stopped cumming. When it was over he seemed in a trance. Every few
seconds, his hips would jam his cock as deep as it could go, like
spasms. Finally when he was cooled off enough to regain his senses
he slowly pulled his mammoth meat out of me. "Are you okay?" he
asked.
"Are you?"
"Yeah, I think so. Tell you in a minute."
"I don't know what the fuck happened to me," I said.
"You mean way up inside of you?"
"Yeah."
"I felt it too. It was like I was fucking two assholes."
"I didn't even know I had a second one, but then nobody's ever gone
that deep before to discover my second asshole," I said.
"Glad I could oblige. I really liked that dick dance you did for
me."
"Dick dance?"
"Yeah, when I was popping in and out of that second hole you turned
into a little nymphomaniac, groaning and grunting and dancing around
on my cock. It was like fucking a ring of fire."
"It was like getting fucked by a stallion," I said.
"I don't believe I'm saying this…me, John Brocker…but that was the
best fuck I've ever hard, bar none. And all the rest were women."
"See what you missed out on by hating fags?" I chided him.
"Hey, I haven't changed my position about fags, just about you," he
said.
"Well, that's a start," I said.
To say I was in love with John Brocker would have been a
misstatement, if not a grave mistake. I was growing awfully fond of
him, but he was so macho-straight, I wouldn't permit myself to even
think about any stronger emotions. Suffice to say, I was the
happiest, most contended and satisfied man on the planet. He and I
became more than team mates. We became closer than friends. The
other guys noticed it, too. I was like we had known each other all
our lives. Certainly, he felt safe and comfortable being himself
around me. More than once, we fell asleep in the same bed and he
didn't get all freaked out if he woke up and found me with my leg or
arm thrown across him. It was hard to imagine; only weeks earlier,
he would have killed me if I even looked at him cross-eyed, let
alone touched him.
We woke up one morning in some motel..I didn't even remember the
name of the town…and I was snuggled against him and he had his arm
under my head for a pillow. My face was practically in his armpit.
His chest was still encrusted with dried cum. I slipped out of bed
to go take a piss. We needed ice, too, so I slipped on my jeans and
got the ice bucket. I was down at the ice machine at the end of the
hall, when Kevin Larson came out of his room from way down at the
other end of the hall. He was dressed in cut-offs and a T-shirt and
sneakers. He had a sly, almost mischievous grin on his face.
"What're you doing up and dressed so early," I asked. That little
smile remained on his face. "What the hell are you smiling about so
fuckin' early?" I growled.
He shrugged. We exchanged small talk.
"Hey, you seem to be getting along real well with Brocker," he
remarked.
"He's not such a bad guy when you get to know him," I said.
"I guess you know him pretty well, huh?"
"Well, you can't room with a guy and not get to know him."
"Does he still hate fags?" Kevin asked.
"We don't discuss politics," I replied smartly.
"Well, listen…when he goes back to the majors, I would like to room
with you," he said.
I was a bit taken aback but I nodded and said, "I got no problem
with it."
"I'll bet you don't." His smile broadened and the corner of his lip
sort of curled up.
"What're getting at?" I asked with a scowl.
"Oh, nothing; I went out to the van to get something and passed by
your window. Your curtains are cracked. I saw you all snuggled up
with the big stud fag-hater."
I felt my face blanch as the blood drained from my head, making me
light headed. I couldn't think. Not a damn thing came to mind to
say. Suddenly I turned and rushed back to my room. John was awake. I
was so shaken that the ice bucket rattled when I set it down. I was
having to suck my breath in.
"What's the hell's wrong?" John asked.
I was barely able to get my words out. "Larson saw us in bed
together," I said as I rushed over and closed the small crack in the
blinds.
"Where is he?" John asked as he jumped out of bed and grabbed his
jeans.
"Down at the ice machine."
John rushed out the door, bare-chested and barefoot. I stood there
in stunned silence as the door swung part way closed. I went to the
door to listen. I didn't show myself.
"Hey, Brocker," Kevin greeted him. He was apparently on his way
back, for they were close to the door.
"Listen, limp-dick, if you breath so much as a hint about what you
think you saw…not now, not ever…I'll break you into little pieces
and throw you under the bus. Got it?"
"Yeah…yeah, I got it," Kevin said in a wear, wavering voice. "Hey,
it's none of my fuckin' business."
"That's right. It's none of your fuckin' business and it's gonna
stay my business. Goddam, I hope you understand what I'm saying,
because you do not want to see me get violent. It's not a pretty
sight. And no matter what, I will find you."
"I got it, John," he assured him.
I stepped away from the door seconds before John came back
in. "That's taken care of," he said.
"Yeah, I heard," I said. I was still shaking.
John came over and wrapped his powerful arms around me and hugged me
tightly to his massive chest. God, he felt good, our bare muscles
writhing together. "Calm down, don't worry about it. He's not going
to say anything. We just have to be more careful."
I felt myself relaxing in his embrace. Suddenly he ground his crotch
against mine and chuckled softly. "Now, don't I get a reward for
coming to your rescue?" he said with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Anything you want," I said. His face was so close, tilted down at
just the right angle and I thought for a moment that he might kiss
me. I almost kissed him. I was glad I didn't. He stepped back and
unbuttoned his jeans, glancing at his watch. "How about we skip
breakfast?"
"I've got all I can eat right here," I said, groping his heavy
manhood.
He sat on the bed to pull off his jeans then laid back, his legs
spread wide. "Come and chow down," he said. I dropped to my knees
beside the bed and lay between his legs. "The first time you did
this, you said next time you were going to take me all the way," he
reminded me. "Just don't get hard too quick," I said. I lifted his
rubbery cock off his balls and sucked it into my mouth. I would have
to work fast, because he was going to get hard fast. I opened my
throat as relaxed as I could and forced the head of his cock through
the opening.
"Ohhhh," he gasped with surprise. "You're gonna do it!"
Along with the pressure, I swallowed, my throat muscles pulling his
cock deeper and deeper in my throat. I was making good progress but
his cock was getting bigger and harder by the second and I had about
five inches to go. I didn't know where the hell it was all going but
I didn't care if it ended up in my lungs. I forced my mouth down the
shaft as my lips became more and more distended around the wide
girth. With a good two inches remaining, I was near panic with the
prospect of defeat.
"Fuck, man, don't stop…you're gonna do it," John said hoarsely, and
he put his hands around my head and forced me to success. His cock
bored up into my throat the final two inches and my face was smashed
against his pubes, my chin against his balls. "Fuckin' AAAAA.
Awwwhhhh, this is a record! This is phenomenal!" he cried softly as
he ground his butt muscles in the mattress to move his cock within
my throat.
I held him as long as I could but the size of his cock squeezed off
all air passages and I had to breathe. I rose up off of his cock,
slowly, carefully. It was such a tight fit I was afraid he would
turn my throat inside out. The head finally popped back through my
throat opening, into my mouth. I rose up, wiping my eyes, swallowing
to make sure my throat still worked. "Goddam!" I swore.
"Shit, nobody's ever done that," he said.
"I'm the first one to try," I said.
"Oh, fuck! Thanks!"
"Don't thank me. I can't take it when you're hard. I can't suck it
all the way in my throat."
"I just want to remember that couple of minutes when you did," he
said. "God, I almost freaked out when I looked down and my cock was
gone! Hey, I didn't hurt you throat, did I?"
"It might be sore for awhile," I said.
There wasn't a hint of evidence that Larson said anything to any of
the rest of the players. He was a little skittish around Brocker,
though, although he tried not to show it. The season ended and we
were due to head back home. We celebrated the last night in a little
town in Missouri. Coach broke the rules and told John he could come
along. The happening place was a small pub called Jimmy's Place. The
patrons welcomed us like heroes even though we had beaten their
team. There weren't enough women to go around and most of those were
practically climbing all over Brocker. He was in his element. I was
feeling down because I figured I would be spending our last night on
somebody's floor. If John took those women back to our room, he was
going to be busy all night. There were a couple of women who made it
know that they were interested in me. John saw it and he came down
the bar and smacked my butt and leaned over to whisper in my ear.
"You wanta take two or three of these chicks back to our room and
trade back and forth?" I was jolted with excitement from the
suggestion but I quickly declined. I wasn't sure I could perform
with a woman in John's presence. He was so damned intimidating and I
was afraid I couldn't stand up next to him. I didn't want the
humiliation.
"Naw, you can have the room, though," I said, saddened that I had
just thrown the night away. I was shocked when John came over to me
again and told me he was going back to the room. "How many women are
you taking with you?" I asked.
"None. I'm just going back," he said.
I was suddenly uplifted again. Was he going back empty-handed so we
could spend the last night together? "I'll go with you," I said,
quickly downing my beer. We took a cab out to the motel. Inside our
room, John went over and made sure the curtains were completely
closed. I was encouraged. He rummaged around in his bag and brought
out a small box.
"Here, I got you something," he said. I scowled with surprise. It
was an underwear box; the very muscular model was wearing a
jockstrap. I opened the box and took out the jock. I was so touched
I started to well up. Then I shook it out and there was his
autograph sewn into the pouch. "A John Brocker original," he said.
"Thanks," I said. "You don't know what this means to me."
"Well, it's something to remember me by," he said. "You've got my
name right there around your cock."
"As if I could ever forget you," I said.
"Put it on," he said as he started taking off his clothes.
"Why didn't you take advantage of the opportunity to have an orgy
with those women?" I asked as I started stripping.
"I wanted to spend the last night with you," he said. "All those
women put together couldn't make feel like you do."
"Careful, you're going to be laying off of women for good," I joked.
I pulled the jock on and arranged my manhood inside. His signature
spread diagonally across the pouch.
"Looks good," he said as he casually slipped his fingers inside the
waistband and gave it a heft upward. "Hey, maybe I could market
those," he said. "Do you think there are guys out there who pay, say
twenty bucks, to stuff their cock into a John Brocker jockstrap?"
"More than you know," I said.
"Maybe I'll do it. Set up a website." he eyed me. "Fuck, you look
good in that," he said. "I want to fuck you. I won't be so
rough, `cause I wanta fuck you all night long. I want to pop that
drum head wide open." I was ready. I started to take the jockstrap
off. "Leave it on," he said. "It won't be in the way. I wanta fuck a
jock."
"You have to save one load for me," I said.
"Save it for what?"
"To take with me," I said. "I wanta suck your cock and when you get
close, slip a condom on and let you cum in it. I can take a load
home with me."
"What the hell are you going to do with a condom full of my cum?
It's gonna get pretty rank pretty quick."
"I don't know…I just want it. And I can keep the condom."
"Hey, you can have all the condoms you want. I'll use `em on you if
you want me to, then you can have `em. Hell, we might fill one
completely."
"One? We'll need a quart jar if I'm going to save all of it," I
said.
There were no pretenses, no inhibitions. He said he wanted to fuck
me and that all it was. The only emotions would be what we made each
oth