Day in the Life of a Town Football Star Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)
EXPLICIT CONTENT FOR ADULTS ONLY. If you are under age leave this page. Or if sexual fiction describing action between men, including relatives, turns you off read no further.
Here's a story I've started for a change of pace from what I usually write... less character development, more butts-to-nuts sex. It defies plausibility, I know, but I hope it works for ya. Feedback to billdrake@hotmail.com.
For more of my stories check out the Prolific authors page here at Nifty, or join my Yahoo group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/drakestories/.
Day in the Life of a Town Football Star
1
Evan Reynolds looked down on the reclining, sleeping body of his son Dan. The boy had grown so much in the last couple of years. As the starting quarterback at Eastman High since moving from JV to varsity before his freshman season was over with, Evan's son had always had the build and gait of a jock. But now, just weeks after his eighteenth birthday, the blonde, blue-eyed stud's body was filling out. Maybe the kid's testosterone was kicking in full gear, maybe it was the rigid schedule of workouts and supplements. Whatever the reason, the boy looked like a real college jock, big brawny muscle without an ounce of the baby fat that clung to his frame a year ago. Dan's mounded chest and rippled belly sported a thick forest of dense straw-yellow hair, which grew to a dense knot of fur at his arm pit. His powerful biceps and strong forearms, too, had blonde curly hair along the length. Even Dan's face sported a dense blonde stubble in need of a morning shave. Evan wondered if his boy was even hairier down underneath where the sheet lay.
"That must be some dream Dan's having," Evan laughed to himself. The boy had an erection to beat the band, tenting out the white sheet stretched over the lower body. Evan only knew the half of it. Dan was deep in a sex-fueled reverie. Each night the dreams got more intense. The previous night it was sucking off the 6'6" local sportscaster. This morning he was lost in a fantasy of taking on the entire Prescott County football team after a devastating loss. The only sign Evan had of his son's perverted dreams was a giant slick spot spreading into the sheet around the tip of his boy's hardon.
Mr. Reynolds wanted to stay and watch some more but he had to get to work before the highway traffic clogged up. He knocked on the door for a fourth time, this time louder. "Wake up, sleepyhead," his voice boomed in the morning stillness.
The young athlete was still half in a daze when he saw his father standing above him. His dad was wearing his suit slacks, only his dress shirt still remained unbuttoned, his tie draped around his neck. The dark-blonde chest hair glistened in the morning sun, that marvelous gym-toned chest was bared for Dan's gaze.
"Oh, man," Dan thought, "Daddy wants a fuck before work." He started lifting his thighs and spreading his legs, his morning pulse waking up in anticipation of a repeat of two days ago. Suddenly, he froze. "Shit!" he exclaimed to himself, "Dad didn't fuck me, that was just my fucking dream. What a freakin' pervert I am!"
Dan gathered his thoughts and muttered to his father that he was awake. Evan smiled and paused before leaving to get ready. He could have sworn Dan was about to assume a missionary fuck position. Lately he'd had some suspicions about his son. It wasn't like his boy was anything other than a paragon of jock masculinity... hell, the boy's voice was deeper than his own. Still, he could sense something new in Dan, an unspoken hunger perhaps.
The minute his dad was gone Dan ripped off the covers and gripped his throbbing prick. The large head dripped in anticipation with clear fucklube. No time to coax out a load right now. He was dedicated to his five mile run. He slipped on some running shorts and shoes, grabbed his keys and was out the door. The cool morning air felt great breezing against his downy chest hair and erect nipples, and Dan could feel the trickle of fresh sweat roll down the ridges of his taut abdomen. And beneath the flimsy cotton of his shorts his now half softened cock jiggled and swayed with each stride.
Turning around the corner to the city park, he passed a lean but fit man in his early thirties. The man exuded the stunning handsome looks of dark Irish heritage. Dan thought he saw a twinkle in the hunk's eyes as he passed. A quick turn of the head after they passed confirmed it: the man was looking back at the jock. Dan's heart raced, but he turned back and continued. Coach would yell at him if he forsook his conditioning because of his out of control curiosity and libido.
Only a half minute later, the man appeared next to him, having turned around and caught up. "Morning," the man muttered.
"Hey," Dan replied, his breath ragged from the jog and from his boiling lust. He wanted this guy bad.
The man's stare was intense. There was something sexual and raw about his obvious type-A composure. "I know a shortcut..."
"Yeah?"
"Interested in seeing it?"
"Sure."
The two men then jotted off down a tree-covered trail, down a hill to a secluded part. They went about fifty more yards til by silent agreement and a nod of the head they slowed their pace to a stop. They hadn't caught their breath before the stranger's hands were all over Dan's sweat-slick body.
"Nice," the man muttered as he felt the athlete up and slipped his shorts down with the ease of a veteran jockchaser. Strong hands gripped his smooth, round asscheeks as the stud's arms pulled the young man into a hot, hungry kiss.
They were horny and in a hurry. The jogger stood back and took a second to admire Dan's body before turning him around. Instinctively, the younger man braced his hands on his knees, arms stiff. Just like practicing two-point stances at summer camp for the team, he thought. Dan couldn't hear the sound of the man stepping out of his shorts, but he recognized the telltale sounds of spittle being dribbled onto cock while the man's hand rubbed the saliva around as lube.
The man wasted no time. He penetrated Dan's firm ass with a steady, measured shove. The young jock choked back a grunt. The intrusion was welcome, but the spit didn't do much to lubricate the way. Besides, the man felt big. Dan wished now he'd taken a second to see how big the cock was before he bent over. Then again, maybe it was better not to know. Already his sphincter stretched tight against the girth.
The stranger grunted his approval as the last millimeter of prick shoved its way inside the tight constriction of the kid's bowels. Dan felt like a stuffed pig on a spit. "Damn, son, you're hot," he muttered before withdrawing. Then BAM! That prick poked full-on into Dan once more. Then again. Shit, the boy was in for a hard screw this morning. This guy didn't believe in foreplay or romance. Just hard, quick jabs at the athlete's backside. Dan was losing his erection, but it was OK... he still enjoyed his fuck and settled into his stance as he got pummeled from behind and had the salty morning sap pushed out his urethra from the rough prostate stimulation. It was a trip to hang his head low and feel his dick dew drip down his leg like a leaking faucet.
The fucker didn't give twenty full strokes before he let out a cry and jetted fresh, briny sperm into Dan's steaming guts. Nice, heavy load. He withdrew with the same lack of fanfare he'd entered that ass. Dan felt quick slap on his cheeks as the man pulled up his shorts again. "Thanks for the fuck, kid. Terrific way to start the day." Then before Dan could get dressed again, the man was off, continuing on his jog.
The quarterback had relished the fuck, but felt unsatisfied. He didn't get off. The only consolation was the rectumful of semen, which began to ooze from his puckered hole as he jogged on. Dan smiled as he felt the juice trickle down the hairs along his hamstrings and the inside of his beefy thighs. He'd been fucked and good, all right.
He made his way back down the cul-de-sac where he lived, in time to see his neighbor, Mr. Wells, leaving the house to go to work. The thirty-eight-year-old was as suit-and-tie, clean-cut as they come, yet still carried a bit of his college hockey swagger in his demeanor. His 6'5" frame certainly was imposing in his business suits, all the more so because his muscle now showed the content padding of married life, to the order of fifteen extra pounds.
Mike Wells greeted his neighbor, who stopped for a second to chat as he cooled down with leg stretches. The two talked about Dan's college plans and the Eastman High football season, but Mike's eyes were drawn to the brawny thighs and the opalescent liquid cascading down in sheets. The sight was obscene. Never before had he seen so much cum. He could even smell it from ten feet away. The second he looked up and saw Dan, face beet red, looking like a deer in the headlights.
Mr. Wells' heart stopped but he managed to choke out instructions. "You can't go back in like that Dan, come into the garage and I'll clean you up." Dan followed. The businessman neighbor was already squatting back on his haunches and loosening his tie. Dan thought he might use a towel or handkerchief, but instead got the shock of his life as the man's thumbs hooked in his waistband and exposed his bubblebutt to view. Like a hyena on fresh prey, Mike Wells latched his open mouth on to the sperm-wet muscle in front of him. He licked and slurped and nuzzled his way up to the steamy-hot asscrack. The scent of fresh fuck was intense, and Mike almost passed out in heat. His deep breath only broth more man scent into his nostrils. "God, Dan, how many guys fucked you?" he asked before launching his assault on the recently violated jockhole.
"Just one, sir. He shot a lot, didn't he?"
Mike paused to answer, his voice half drowned in the moist bulk of the gluteal muscle his face was buried in. "I'll say. Fucking incredible." He lapped some more, now drilling for the reservoir of liquid gold buried just inside that obstinate outer ring of the athlete's sphincter.
"That's it, Mr. Wells. Eat me out. God, this is so nasty. My married neighbor in a goddamned felch fest. Oooh, yeah, suck that hole." Dan hiked his butt back, relaxed his internal muscles and felt the viscous seed deposit sluice into Mike Wells' gullet like a shucked oyster.
"How's it taste, sir?"
Dan didn't get a reply, other than the sight of five jets of white spurting out between his legs. Mr. Wells was shooting big. Dan eased off his precarious perch and surveyed the horny sight in front of him. The strapping ex hockey jock hovered servile on his heels, his square-jawed face smeared with spittle and frothy sperm and clear, musky assjuice. The contrast between the businessjock's clean-cut appearance and the dripping fluids made Dan's crank surge upright in front of his flat hard belly. Still, he had to get running.
"Thanks for the clean up, sir," Dan said politely as he grabbed his shorts and turned back to his house.
"Yeah, sure," Mike gasped, his expression half smile, half sex daze.
Quickly, Dan showered and dressed, pulling on his favorite jock strap and faded jeans, with a paper thin fraternity T- shirt his older brother had handed down to him. Out the door by 7:30, he knew he had time to make his favorite morning stop. Pulling up to the donut shop, he sauntered out of his Bronco and in to get his morning coffee. He'd barely gotten his large black coffee when he heard a voice.
"Hey! It's Golden Fingers!" Dan turned around to see Steve and Larry, two of the hunkiest men on the city's police force, jocular smiles on their faces and their stout muscled bodies poured into the thin blue polyester of their uniforms. Sitting on the counter stools, beefy legs spread, Dan could see their full round crotches and was glad Dad had woken him up at the crack of dawn.
"Well, well," Dan replied, "If it's not the city's finest. How's it hanging?"
Steve lowered his voice, the brown-haired hunk's face suddenly gaining an impish look. "Hard and long, buddy, just the way you like it."
"Yeah," Larry chimed in. "Where were ya yesterday? We missed our favorite football star."
"You mean cocksucker," Steve snarled in a low voice so no one else in the place could hear.
Larry laughed. "Jeez, Steve, you're making the poor kid blush. Ya trying to scare a man with his talents away?"
"Nah... besides, Golden Fingers wants it, doesn't he?"
Dan stammered, then answered with a simple question. "The storeroom open?"
"That's my boy," Steve laughed, cupping his crotch.
A minute later, Dan knelt on the tiled storeroom floor as the two cops unzipped. Nice cocks, thick, vascular, and uncut were bared for his examination. Big smooth poles with hairy nuts dangling beneath. Dan took his time licking up and down the surface of each, running his tongue under the foreskins, before taking each stalk into his mouth.
"Fuck," Larry sighed. "Look at that kid. Big strapping ballplayer and he sucks dick like a two-bit whore. Yeah, go to town, stud."
"Hot, guys!" Steve added. "Feed the boy your huge meat, man. You gotta beauty swinging between your legs, Lare. When ya gonna let your riding partner have a swing on that tool?" His beefy paw rubbed Larry's hairy lower abdomen where his uniform shirt parted, working his way appreciatively to the base of the pubes.
"Didn't know you wanted it, bud."
"You kidding?" From then on all Dan could hear was the sloppy wet sound of two policemen making out, lips locked in tongue-tickling French kiss. He kept sucking. He wanted that cop semen in the worst way. He swore he was getting close to bringing Larry off, when Steve's rough hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him back off that thrusting cock.
"What the...?" Larry gasped.
"I thought maybe our quarterback would want some cream with his coffee this morning."
"Fuck yeah," the other two said in unison. Larry pushed his engorged prick down at an angle as his wrist began to take over stimulation duty, and Dan lifted his coffee cup to a few inches below the bloated prickhead. Larry was already close so a couple strokes and his pissslit opened up, raining down copious, milk-white shots of jism. With ferocious splashing sounds, it whitened Dan's coffee.
"Jesus!" Steve yelled, turned on by the sight. "Bring that cup here, I'm gonna blow, too." This ejaculation was even more impressive. Steve blew like a geyser, and the men stared in awe as the cop's deft hand milked spew after spew of the thick man cream into his drink, which now was tan in color.
As soon as he finished, Dan couldn't wait. He lifted the cup to his lips and gulped. All the flavors were there: bitter, bracing coffee and sweet musky jizz. The athlete savored the brew, then in a sexual frenzy chugged it down. He wanted all of his officer friends' spermatozoa in him. He'd barely finished when he looked up to see Larry shooting another load smack into his face. The man had gotten so turned on, orgasm number two didn't have to wait.
"Think I'll join ya buddy," Steve said. "That was hot." He was working on his joint when a knock at the door preceded Gary Costa's appearance. Gary was an older cop, with a true paunch expanding the girth around the middle. He wouldn't have been Dan's type except for an extraordinarily large penis that snapped up against that belly whenever the man shucked his pants. Like now.
"Too late to join in the party, guys?"
They all said no. Already a drop of pearly liquid oozed from Gary's fat oval glans. He wasn't usually a leaker, so this meant he was charged up for a sprint this morning. Dan kneeled forward and awaited what was sure to be one hell of a cocksucking challenge.
(to be cont.)