Alien Culture

The Alien Culture Project, part 26 By Rio Mack

DISCLAIMER: The following contains depictions of gay sex.

As that first magical wrestling practice came to an end, Chance reclined, blissfully resplendent, on a locker room bench, his team-mate Spence lapping and licking every bit of cum off his cock, a cock thickly coated with creamy slime, fresh from Spencer's first ass-fucking.

Chance lay back in that wonderfully exhausted afterglow, the serene product of intense, athletic sex between two jock studs. He smiled at the relish with which Spencer's mouth and tongue worked his long, full thickness - relish, Chance knew, mixed with a trace of regret that it was over. He's just like me, he thought: wants to get right back on that horse and ride it again.

"MMMMmmmmm," Spencer moaned softly, feasting on boy-cock for the first time. As his tongue and lips ministered with a greedy tenderness to his wrestling buddy's huge, gorgeous dick, he had to smile ruefully to himself, ashamed he'd waited so long to try the sex that had enticed him for years. Until today, he'd guiltily blocked the urge when it had sprung up (along with his cock) at the sight of a hot-looking stud.

But now he saw the frustrating folly in denying his true desire: why else did he beat off 4 or 5 times a day, excitedly fantasizing about cut muscle-hunks or gazing entranced at the reflection of his beautifully sculpted nudity in a mirror? It was, he now realized, that finely tuned athletic body crying out for the deep satisfaction of sex with its own kind. He'd always fancied himself a student of the male body, devoting so much time to the study of fitness, nutrition, and weight training. He laughed to himself now, wondering how he could have missed this essential part of a young jock's training regimen: namely, the testosterone-rich athleticism of sex with another muscle-stud. What an awesome fucking workout it was. Now, however, it would become a key part of his daily routine, he thought dreamily, as he gorged on this huge piece of boy-flesh.

He let his hands trace sexy patterns all over those hellaciously ripped abs of Chance's as he stuffed himself on cock.

"Dude," Chance said wistfully, faint sounds of boy-sex echoing through the locker room, "I hate to say it, but I gotta get dressed and hit it. I can't be late for calculus."

"Fuck," Spencer pouted, "I wanna get this thing hard again, then take your whole load in my mouth."

Chance stroked the side of Spence's rugged jaw. "Be lots more times for this, dawg. Don't worry."

"OK," Spence sighed and regrettably rose off his first gay crush. Chance got up, too. The two boys eyed each other's impossibly sexy frames - not a trace of fat, just hard-carved, achingly ripe muscle. On the same wavelength, they embraced and kissed with a moist, tender, simmering passion. The novel feel of his hands playing sensuously over another boy's smooth firmness, while his own blood-engorged cock nuzzled another's thick, dangling fullness, was electrifying to Spencer.

"Hottest fucking sex of my life," Spence whispered.

"You're fucking awesome, dude; can't wait for our next practice."

They opened their lockers, but before they got dressed, Spencer's longing formed itself into a question. His desire overcame any inhibition; he wanted to find a reason to see his new buddy again, hopefully soon, and so, obliquely angling for a date, he asked shyly, "So whaddaya do for cardio, Taylor? How do you get that body so fucking cut?"

"Run, mostly. In fact, I got a long run scheduled with this cool-ass dude from the football team later today. CJ Curtis? Ever hear of him?"

"Offensive tackle? Big blonde brick shithouse? Hell yes, I know who he is. He's fucking beefy and gorgeous." Spencer loved being able to voice his desire shamelessly like this. He giddily relished this new sexy frankness in talking about hot dudes with a fellow connoisseur.

"Yep, you got that right. We're slated to take an hour-long run today, sometime after lunch, and if yer free, I don't see any reason why you can't join us." Then Chance added, with a roguish glint in his eyes. "We're kinda plannin' to sort of fool around a bit when we finish our run. Don't see any reason why you couldn't join us in that, neither."

"Too fucking hotttt!!" Spence leered, then gave a low whistle. He was excited as a child at the thought of more hot sex looming so close on the horizon.

Fuck, Chance was turning out to be about the best possible friend a sexed-up young jock could have. Suddenly, Spence could see whole luscious vistas spreading out before him of all sorts of incredible opportunities for hot, raw pleasure. This first, most exquisite taste of boy-on-boy action, and he'd become addicted. "I sure as fuck would like to join you guys, if yer buddy don't mind."

"Fuck," Chance shrugged, "lemme call him now an' ask."

While Chance dialed, Spence availed himself of the opportunity of a few extra minutes of close, naked proximity to the hottest-looking body he'd ever seen. He jacked and stroked and fingered and fisted Chance's huge, veiny prick with one hand, while rolling around the plum-sized balls in that velvety smooth nutsac with the other.

"Yo, CJ. We still on for our run later? . . . . . Damn, that's just what I was gonna ask you . . . . . So it's cool? Shit, four hot jocks together - imagine the possibilities, huh? Cause I told my boy Spence you and me had sorta planned to get a little sexy afterwards, and he's totally amped. That gonna be cool with your bud, too? . . . . Oh? . . . . . Well, that sounds innarestin'. We'll see if yer right. . . . . Can't wait. You're gonna like Spence; he's hot as fuck. Almost as hot as I am [Chance winked at Spence, who'd just given his balls a squeeze in mock-anger.] Hey, steada meetin' at my dorm, how 'bout, since there's a whole posse of us now, we just hook-up here at the wrestling gym. Be way more room, and there's weights and mats and showers and shit. And I bet we'll have it all to ourselves this afternoon. . . . . Cool. Hope your right about that roomie o' yours! . . . OK, later dawg!"

"So what's up?" Spence asked, getting Chance nice and long and stiff now, loving the delicious sensation of stroking another dude to hardness.

"CJ's way cool with it. Anxious to meet ya. He's bringing along this dude name o' Lane Myers, I think. His roommate. Back-up QB for the football team. Dude's supposedly way hot-looking. Major player with the ladies, I guess, but CJ says he gets a definite gay vibe off him. I think my nasty ol' boy Ceej is all amped for the challenge of tryin' to turn a straight dude!"

"Fuck," Spence said, blushing, "weren't too hard to turn me."

"I actually don't think it's too hard to turn any dude. I think, deep down, just about every guy - especially hot young college jocks - are fiendin' like crazy for their first taste o' dick. Anyway, this should be fun. And if this Lane guy ain't down with it, the three of us sure as fuck are. So meet out front around one, OK?"

"Can't wait," Spence smiled and, with incredible regret, released Chance's beautifully jutting cock.

Chance pulled a pair of jeans up over his naked lower body. Spence thought going commando was an excellent idea, so he did likewise. Then, shirt on and backpack over one shoulder, he hugged Spence, kissed him with the deep, raw passion only two boys can have for each other, then headed off to class.

As he strode across campus, Chance thought about the prospect of Reed moving in later in the day. He wished he could help him, but on the other hand, he was glad he could look forward to the sweet pleasure of walking through the door to the dorm-room later that afternoon and knowing it was the space where he and his boyfriend lived together. Fuck, he thought, you're LIVING with someone, Taylor! Too cool!

Then his thoughts turned to Wyatt and Jessie, his new role models. They were providing him with a blueprint for the kind of life he wanted to share with Reed. One of the first tenets of that life was that one kept his body in peak physical condition, to please his lover and himself (he knew he would be like Wyatt as he aged, sharing with him both a deeply insistent sex drive and an attraction to built young guys). But it was not just sex and athleticism that Wyatt and his lover were reinforcing, it was the importance of a life of culture, taste, and aesthetic sensibility. Wyatt was such a cool stud not just cause he was built as hell and threw the best fuck of anyone Chance'd ever known; it was cause he knew how to cook really great food, had a passion for the arts, was an engaging conversationalist, and made sure he lived in a great space. Now that he'd had a taste of that life, Chance had to have a version of it for himself. Reed, then, was his perfect life-partner for the road he wanted to take.

Chance knew he had the body part down cold, no sweat there; and he was getting what his dad would call 'passable fair' at sex, but he'd so far only gotten a sniff of the cultural background and refinement Wyatt had. And he wanted that desperately: What had made his recent entry into gay life seem so right to him was not just the deep passion for the company of men (socially as well as sexually), it was the lifestyle - the art, the clothes, the food. That dance concert Reed took him to had been a revelation, Jessie's photos had begun a nascent fascination with fine art, the food he'd had recently at Wyatt's and Greco Dio had created a whole new appetite for cuisine worlds away from what his mom served, and his recent attempts at wardrobe and grooming make-overs made him suddenly care about creating a look that was more than merely buff: all this was a way of life he wanted to explore, learn, master.

With that thought in mind, he checked his watch, saw he had some time to spare, and stopped in at the library on his way to calc class.

Once in the old marble lobby, he headed upstairs to the art section. He figured a self-taught course of study in art would be a good start at indulging this new desire, and would build naturally on the research he'd already done on Classical Greek culture, art being so important to the Greeks. And Chance knew right where he should begin his study, with art that was like an outgrowth of his own very body-conscious gay identity.

So he first found a book on famous male dancers, one loaded with incredible pictures and a text that seemed both readable and informative. Next he found two art books on 'the male nude,' with reproductions he found incredibly beautiful, powerfully erotic. One in particular, as he read a little of it, he found especially interesting, as it traced the male nude from its status as the central form in classical art, through European and American painting (there were some reproductions of paintings by a man named Thomas Eakins, which he found particularly striking), and on into contemporary photography. He spent some time studying the plates in the photography section, looking at amazing pictures by a guy named Mapplethorpe, which were interestingly similar to yet different from Jesse's; there were also some photos by a guy named Bruce Weber that were just stunning. He knew studying these books, reading over the commentary, might give him more depth and insight into Jesse's work. And shit, he laughed, at the very least, they were pretty hot stroke books.

He gathered them all up and headed back downstairs to the main desk to check them out. There was a thin, coolly dressed, sort of punkish-looking boy working circulation. Chance couldn't help eying the good-looking boy up and down as the youth ran his books through the scanner. He had a lean, luscious body that would command any dude's gaze. The boy knew he was being ogled and decided to flirt right back.

"I like your taste in books," he said slyly. He had slightly longish dark hair, cut in a sexy style that made him look like he'd just gotten out of bed. He was dressed in a short, tight, form-revealing T, just like Chance's, and wore lots of silver bracelets on both wrists. Each ear had a small silver hoop hanging from it. There was a very attractive air about him, quietly but seriously erotic, which went straight to Chance's head and groin. Plus, he had on a very heady cologne that Chance found intoxicating.l

"Thanks," Chance smiled, adding, "I know it's hard to believe, but I'm actually gettin' these for more than the pictures."

"I'll just bet you are," the boy smiled. Then he opened one of the male nude books, flipping through the pages, making all sorts of softly luscious oohing and aahing noises as his delicate fingers played over the pages. He looked up from the budes in the book to drink in Chance's muscular perfection. Looking him dead in the eye, he said frankly, "Too bad there's not a picture of you in here."

"Actually, there could be," Chance smiled. He could feel his dick tingle and swell. Shit, did he ever like flirting with dudes now. It was great being in college, with so many cute horned-up boys all with one thing on their minds - a college campus was like a hot, humid biosphere of boy-lust. "I mean, I've got the pictures. Damn, wish I had time, dude. I'd invite you up to my room and show you just the kind of pix of me I bet you have in mind."

"Oh," he said, cocking one eyebrow up while suggestively tracing a finger up and down the huge cock of a Mapplethorpe model there on the page open before him; there was no denying the sexual tension crackling in the air, "you pose?"

"Yep," Chance smiled, "you a photographer?"

"It's actually my major, believe it or not." The boy's eyes narrowed and a naughty smile spread across his lips. "I'm always on the lookout for good subjects."

"Dang, if you know about photography, then maybe you heard o' Jesse Stone?"

"Oh God, yes," the boy perked up. "He's one of my absolute heroes."

"Well, he's a friend o' mine. It was him who took those pictures of me. One of em's actually on display, downtown, in the window of his gallery. Check it out!" And then he added sexily, "I got a feeling you'd like it."

The boy was stunned. Here he'd been harmlessly flirting with what he thought was just some boy-toy, eye-candy muscle-stud, and it turns out he's not only a model, but a friend even, of one of the greatest photographers working today. Of course he would go right from work today to check out the photo. And of course he wanted to get to know this amazing boy better.

"I'm Devon Lester," he extended his hand and thrilled at the touch of this strong, gorgeous boy - there was such warmth and firmness in his grip. "I work here Mondays and Saturdays. I'd actually love to talk more about photography, especially Jesse's work, with you. Next time you stop in, I mean." He was too nervous even to suggest an actual date; he just left it casual, open-ended.

"Name's Taylor, Chance Taylor. Here," and with that he grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper off the desk and scrawled something on it, "this is my email & cell phone. Hit me up anytime."

"I'm always innarested in gettin' together with a fellow art-lover," Chance added with a wink.

Devon picked up the scrap of paper, carefully, as if it were a leaf from a precious manuscript, and put it safely in his bag.

"I will," he said. Then a thought struck him, "Are you a student-athlete?"

"Yep. Wrestler. Why?"

"Cause I'm actually doing a series of photos on the student-athletes for the school paper. I did one a few weeks ago of this really good-looking boy on the swim team, named Tag - ."

"Tag Malone!!"

"That's right. You know him?"

Chance grinned, "Sure do. Lives right down the hall from me. Yep, Tag's a total stud, all right. So it was you did that nude shot o' him in the paper I been hearin' about?"

"Guilty as charged," Devon bowed his head, secretly pleased people were talking about his work.

"I'd sure like to see that some day. My boys tell me it's hot as fuck, one of those stroke-shots you keep pasted on your bathroom wall."

"Damn," Devon laughed, mock-pouting, "and I thought it was art."

"Fuck," Chance said, realizing his mistake, "I mean, sure, but - ."

"Thanks OK, Chance. No harm, no foul," Devon said, reassuring Chance by putting his hand over the young jock's. Again, the air was crackling. Both boys were getting stiffer, harder, engorged with longing. "And tell you what - I'll make you a deal: you show me your pictures, and I'll show you mine. There's a whole bunch of photos of Tag from that session, lots I couldn't even think about using because, ah," he lowered his voice to a stage-whisper, "he was showing a little too much erection."

"Sounds cool!" Chance smiled, deciding not to add how very familiar indeed he was with Tag Malone's propensity for erections. Then he added, "Well, I gotta jet. Awfully pleased to meet you, Dev."

He reached across the circulation desk counter and very casually gave his new friend a hug - masculine, intimate, warm - the same he would give one of his close friends (because something told Chance that Devon would become one of his close friends - the synchronicity with Tag and Jesse was too powerful for it to be otherwise). Devon thrilled to find himself wrapped in that strong embrace; he delighted at the feel of those rock-hard muscles pressed so tight against his own. "Like I said," Chance whispered, as he held the boy close, "hit me up."

He broke the hug, flashed a smile to the still-reeling photographer, grabbed his books, and headed off to class.

As he strolled the campus, checking out hot-looking guys, he savored the very pleasant sensation of his long, juicy cock, all thick and randy from his encounter with Devon and now rarin' to go. Chance smiled a real goofy, shit-eating grin, high on his life, loving that fine feeling of fullness dangling and swaying in his jeans, happy that he was at last able to put that tool to such satisfying use. The long pleasant plumpness of his young manhood made him feel like his dick was wearing the same huge grin he was, thinking about the fun that lay ahead later this afternoon.

He thought back to his high school days: all the guys who talked about pussy this and pussy that, seemingly eternally boned up for the next time they got laid. All that had been lost on Chance until now. Way better late than never, he happilyly thought to himself. He stopped for a bit to scope out a sweet scene: a bunch of incredibly hot jocks throwing the frisbee around on the quad. Because of the unseasonably warm early autumn, most were bare-chested, some in tight wife-beaters, all romping around proudly, as if putting on a show of their beauty. Some were barefoot, some in flip-flops - damn, did guys look hot in flip-flops or what? Chance just drank it all in, feeling that wonderful warmth begin to flood his dick, aroused now with all these studs' horsing around, their shorts dipping low, revealing a glimpse of boxer or brief or jock. And about half the boys weren't wearing underwear, which was way cool. It seemed to Chance that that sexily drooping waist-band, that wink of underwear or flesh, was like a teasing invitation to undo the sexy packaging and get to the real prize.

Guys are so into looking hot these days, he thought. Several of the boys had earrings, as so many straight dudes did these days. One even had his nipples pierced, which drove Chance nuts. Long hair, curly hair, buzz cuts, fuck were they gorgeous. Not an ounce of fat on any of them, just lithe, ripply muscle, which acted on Chance like soft, sexy hands massaging his libido.

As he watched, all he could think about were the thick, juicy cocks waggling around under those board shorts or cargo shorts or sexy jean cut-offs. Those cocks, so anxious to come out and play, he bet, with some other horny dicks - getting all hard and ripe, throbbing in deep, erotic excitement, till they shot their thick, creamy loads in a glorious riot of pure male release. He knew now how much most hot, athletic young guys craved gay sex at some very deep level - the pleasures of muscle-stroking and dick-play - some just were too repressed to admit it.

Fuck, he was feeling randy as hell. Dick this and dick that, he laughed to himself. He wondered what CJ's friend would look like. Hot, he bet, since hot jocks seemed to have a way of attracting other hot jocks. But first things first, he thought, and got his learning on for the very demanding calculus class ahead.

After a grueling hour and fifteen minutes of math, his mind still spinning with concepts he couldn't grasp, Chance sat on the steps outside the wrestling gym, drinking a protein shake he'd grabbed at the union snack bar. Must be eighty-some degrees, Chance guessed. He was wearing just loose dungarees and a too-small T, but felt over-dressed. He had some running gear stashed in his gym locker, and figured he'd run today in cut-off sweatpants and this loose, faded sleeveless T he liked with the sides cut low.

Spence showed up a few minutes later, also in jeans and a T. He was smiling his usual Charles Bronson smile - like he was in on some cool cosmic joke no one else was. They hugged, then kissed hungrily, loving the feel of their moist lips on hard, stubbled cheek and jaw.

"Fuck, am I ever boned," Spence sighed. "I don't think I went soft the whole morning. Dude, I can't tell you how into this sex I am!"

Chance stroked Spencer's obvious stiffness through his jeans, and they kissed again, tongues dueling feverishly, hands digging into the cracks of each other's hard, denim-clad asses. Spence pressed his straining cock hard and insistently against Chance. The younger jock pulled back and laughed, "Damn, son! You are fucking hot to trot! You NEED a good long run to siphon off some of that sex-drive."

"Shit, dude," Spence laughed, "I got so much sex drive right now for some hot jock ass, I could run a couple marathons back-to-back and still be ready to fuck the rest of the day."

They both turned as they heard a loud motorcycle pull up. It slowed right in front of the gym, and a leather-clad biker hopped off. He removed his helmet, and Chance smiled to see the grinning face of CJ.

"Dude!" he yelled. "Where the fuck'd you get that ride?"

They hugged and kissed, as passionately as he and Spence had. Then CJ said, "Derrick's lendin' me one o' his bikes. Fuck, Chance, that guy is so damn awesome! I am so stoked you put me on to him! Shit, we been hangin' together all weekend. He had some friends over; we went to bars 'n' shit. Christ, I think I caught up on about five years worth of sex. Fuck, feels like I been gay since middle school, I got so much ass and dick the past coupla days."

"Damn," Spencer said, jealous as hell.

"Shit, dawg!" Chance said, suddenly aware he had introductions to make. "You gotta tell me all about it when we run. By the way, CJ, meet one o' my boys from the wrestling team, Spencer Horsowski. Spence, CJ Curtis."

"Shit," said CJ, "I hearda you. You're big-time. You were like all-everything for the past coupla years, no?"

"Sorta," Spence smiled. "And look who's talkin'. Cause I sure as fuck heard of you, too. Damn, you can tackle, son. You're goin' pro, no doubt about it. You gotta be one o' the top-ranked offensive linemen in the country."

"Maybe," CJ said modestly. They hugged. And then CJ had to get something clear. "Spence, I don't know what Chance told you, but I am like horny as fuck. And after our run, I'm really lookin' forward to gettin' as nasty as you guys wanna be. You OK with that?"

"Oh," Spence smiled, with that inscrutable Bronson grin, "I'm OK with that, but are you? Cause I gotta warn you, I can get REALLY nasty."

They laughed, and then secretly each began seriously checking the other out - face, torso, arms, legs, ass, crotch. And each had the same thought: this dude is fucking gorgeous, and way built.

"So tell me about your friend, and where the fuck is he anyway?" Chance said breezily, anxious to get the show on the road.

"He's cool," CJ explained. "Name's Lane. My roommate, my teammate. He'll be back-up QB this year - or starter if Anderson gets hurt again. Great great body." Then he eyed the two wrestlers. "Well, maybe not as great as you two, but very hot - sexy sprinkling of hair on his chest and abs, and a nice trail. Good-lookin', too. Like I told you on the phone, Chance, major stud with the ladies. But I get this vibe - you know, he'll be lookin' at my dick a little too long, always naked in the dorm, and always askin' me, 'Hey Ceej, whyn't you take your boxers off, get comfortable like me? Just us guys here, dude.' likes to horse around wrestlin' and shit with me. And I swear I came in our room a couple times, and he was nervously closing out what sure as hell looked like gay porn sites, his dick hard and wet as fuck. He's got a great cock, real womb-beater. And a hot ass. So, we'll see, huh?"

"I told Spence: you wanna turn a straight dude."

"Don't know about that, but it sure would be hot to have a roomie into the same kinda sex I was. And hey, I'm thinkin': don't do any real sexy stuff 'til later, in the gym, after the run. We can all shuck our sweaty clothes, get naked, stretch, and see what happens."

Chance and Spence just grinned - they were all amped as hell.

CJ told Chance that Derrick had asked about him, wondered if the three of them could get together some time.

"Hell yeah," Chance grinned, then suggested they all meet up at Sparta this weekend, then head over to the after-party at Wyatt's. "You too, Spence," he added.

Spencer's cock was tingling at the speed with which Chance was working him into his boy-sex network.

A few minutes later, CJ saw Lane strolling over, waving. As he joined them, Chance and Spencer checked him out: he did, indeed, have a great build, very apparent through the polo shirt and faded jeans he was wearing. He had flip-flops on, showing off big, beautifully shaped feet and toes. Nicely cut short light-brown hair and classic, fresh, jock good looks, very A & F. CJ made introductions, Chance unlocked the gym, and they headed inside.

"Our lockers are over here," Chance said. "You can just leave your clothes and stuff in a heap, no one else'll be in here." Chance, Spence, and CJ proceeded to shuck clothes as fast as possible, anxious to see each other nude. Lane was a little slower, still trying to get his bearings. New gym, new dudes. Plus, he was a little overwhelmed with the bodies of these two wrestlers that so quickly revealed themselves. Football players were built, of course, but they were big and beefy mostly, except for a few wide receivers. These wrestlers were deeply cut and carved in a way Lane found pretty damn impressive. And they weren't shy about being naked - once they'd stripped, they took their damn sweet time sorting through clothes, deciding what to wear, slowly fishing through their gear. Lane laughed to himself: it was almost like these guys wanted to ogle and be ogled. But that was just a might gay, no? And these were fucking total jock-studs. In any case, he sure as fuck was enjoying the show.

Lane got down to his boxers and suddenly it was like the air in the locker room seemed to change. Chance had already wriggled into a jockstrap, one of his favorites - it was a Champion with half-inch bands, cut real low, so it only went as high as the base of his cock in front and just missed the top of his crack in back. It looked like it had been tailored to his body contours. The pouch was soft but tight, so you could easily make out every inch of his huge cock. Fuck, Lane thought to himself, getting way tingly, this stud is like hot as hell, a total wet dream. Must ge more ass than a toilet seat. Try as he might, Lane couldn't stop staring: that sheer expanse of smooth, ripe, cut muscle, made even sexier by that teasing fig leaf of a jock (which hardly covered anything, the thin mesh looked more like off-white spray paint - the dude's cock was incredible!).

He grew even more transfixed as he watched the other wrestler, still naked and hunky as hell, start poking and tracing and pulling on the straps (which could hardly be pulled at all, they were pasted so tight to that sculpted body) and commenting on the fit. Fuck! Lane thought, as the dude traced a finger up and down that huge over-stuffed pouch. Then Chance wriggled out of it and let his friend try it on.

Lane could only keep staring in amazement - it was like seeing the secret locker room life of the muscle elite; the scene was hot as fuck. They strode over to a mirrored wall - CJ, also looking hot as fuck in a Bike jock (thin grey band with 'BIKE' logo and big bulging white pouch), joined them - and the blonde stud checked himself out in the skimpy jock, while the naked hunk and CJ commented and traced fingers in front and back. The small, perfectly form-fitting jockstrap looked hot as fuck on Spencer as well. It was the bare minimum, modestly almost covering a huge bulging package, and leaving the rest of the dude's chiseled perfection obscenely displayed. Lane realized he had boned up something fierce, so he quickly shucked his boxers in order to get his running gear on, glad the others couldn't see his half-stiffy while he changed.

But they could, of course, in the mirror. Chance, especially, admired the head of Lane's sleek, slightly arced cock, entirely covered by a thin sleeve of flesh. Not thick and meaty like his and Wyatt's, Lane's foreskin allowed the head be perfectly made out, those lickable glans deliciously traceable. What's more, there was an extra bit of flesh that hung down at the bottom - not a huge puckered nipple like Wyatt had, but a sexy little drop dripping right off the bottom of the head. It cried out to be teased, sucked, bitten. Chance wondered if any girl found it as sexy as a guy would. He was looking forward to getting a nice big helping of that tasty-looking meat later.

Lane nervously pulled up the compression shorts he'd brought for the run, which he wore under a very fashionable pair of heather training shorts, with a sleeveless compression T on top to show off those very well worked guns he was so proud of.

The three boys finally sauntered back to the changing area. Lane's hands were shaking from excitement; he was afraid to talk because he knew his voice would quake, too. He'd been around a lot of nude, very good-looking guys in his athletic career, but these three were different - they were into their nudity, into their bodies, in a whole 'nother way. It was almost like it was sexual with them or something.

Lane swallowed and pretended not to stare as Spencer took Chance's jock off, handed it back to him, then, nude, pulled on a tight athletic tank. It came to just below his belly-button, and Lane stared dry-mouthed at the boy's flat, sleek, muscular lower abs, with these awesome veins running all up and down them, and his shaved pubes (Spence, inspired by Chance, did them in the dorm shower room that morning, after wrestling practice). Not to mention that long, sweet hunk of cock just hanging there. The stud turned to get a jock from his locker and showed off a beautifully cut, muscled ass - all glutes. Fuck, Lane thought, these wrestlers must fucking live in the gym, their bodies are so well worked. He felt heavy and puffy next to them, though he knew he had a body any dude would be proud of. Any dude but Spencer or Chance, he thought enviously.

Chance pulled his small runner's jock back on, then pulled up a pair of cut-off sweatpants that showed off his huge, bulging calves. CJ looked hot as fuck in a pair of loose-fitting basketball shorts and a tight, square-cut tank-top. Spencer wore very tight, short, classic P.E. shorts, which seemed to go perfectly with that tight old-school wife-beater. He had such a beautiful body to expose, so expose it he did. And Chance decided at last against wearing his loose shirt, choosing instead a very tight, sleeveless 'Yellow Branch Fire Dept.' T - he figured if these other hunks were showin' off their chests, he might as well, too. All suited up, they headed out.

"Where we headed?" Lane asked, once they were out in the warm sun.

"Down along the river parkway, out to Miller's Falls. It's about half-hour out, half-hour back. That OK with everyone?"

"Guess so," Lane said. He'd felt like the wimp among these studs - what with the awesome bodies they were showin' off, and him over-dressed in his expensive compression gear, so he thought he'd show them he was no slacker in the fitness department. "I was hopin' it might be a little longer. I really wanna burn some calories today."

"Oh, don't worry," smiled Spence, eyes twinkling, "we like to head back to the gym afterwards and throw some iron around, do some mat-work - shit, Taylor, sometimes I think we get a better workout after our run than before, huh?"

"You might be right," Chance smiled.

"Cool," said Lane, doing some last-minute hamstring stretches, "cause I'm lookin' to get hard and pumped. Our conference schedule starts in two weeks."

"'Hard and pumped,'" Spence smiled coolly, "that's just about our motto around here."

The run itself went off fine. Chance ran next to CJ for much of the way out, hearing all about Derrick. CJ kept his voice down, but didn't really need to, as Spencer and Lane, running a few paces back, were chatting loudly about college football the whole time. Spence was a huge fan; had been, every since junior high. The way in, Spence and Chance ran together, as did CJ and his roommate. On both legs of the run, these four gorgeous specimens of young muscle attracted the stares of everyone else along the parkway.

The reached the gym about 2:30. Chance had a 4 o'clock English class, so that left about an hour or so to fool around. The other three were free the rest of the day.

When they hit the locker room, Chance said casually, while kicking off his shoes, "Just stow your sweaty stuff and head out to the gym."

Lane watched as the other three boys quickly stripped, grabbed towels from a stack of clean ones, then turned the corner out to the gym. He didn't think he understood: "You guys gonna sauna or something before you lift and stretch, or what?"

"Naw," said Spence smiling, "just gonna lift a little, stretch, then hit the showers."

"But dudes, you're . . . like . . . naked."

Chance laughed, "The wrestling team is always naked when we practice." Not technically a lie, if you put it in the present and future tense.

"You're fucking kidding, right?"

"Not at all," said Spence, "it's the classic Greek way. Plus, you get a much better pump when you can see all your muscles. And it's kinda inspirational to see other dudes' bodies, too. Gets ya fired up."

Chance and CJ grinned, along with Spence, and Chance cried, "See you out there!" to the still-stunned footballer.

Lane was feeling dazed again, as he had while they were dressing. But he stripped off his clothes, worried about his dick getting embarrassingly hard, and slowly headed into the gym. This was way too wild, different as hell; he couldn't get his mind off the idea that a college team - especially the wrestling team, who everyone knew had the best bodies - practiced nude. He'd always wondered about wrestlers: were they gay? It seemed like a sport that would attract a lot of guys into hard-core gay sex. Just watching it was erotic as hell. And on some of the gay porn sites Lane visited, you'd see these vid's of built young guys wrestling, ripping off their singlets (fuck were those singlets sexy), then fucking like crazy. Or he'd read gay porn stories about wrestlers, and they'd always be totally into sex with each other. Fuck! he was already starting to bone up. He grew sweaty, embarrassed, but swallowed again and headed out.

Lane was impressed with the gym - small, very warm, and well equipped. Chance, CJ, and Spencer were at the weight rack: Spencer and CJ were doing curls and raises, while Chance was doing bench presses. The sight of those three nude studs working those incredibly defined bodies - the gleaming sweat-sheen on them putting those muscles into even sexier high-relief - was amazing. Lane felt like he was moving through a thick fog or something, like time was running on slo-mo. He didn't know where to stare - he wanted to gaze at every inch of their bodies, but not get busted looking. He went over and casually picked up some fifty-pound dumbbells and started doing some curls, sneaking furtive glances. He, CJ, and Spence were all lifting in front of a mirrored wall. Lane's eyes kept shifting away from his own reflection to Spencer's or CJ's. It was unreal to see muscle-studs totally naked, working out their sexy-ass bodies like this. Too freakin' hot!

Soon, the hyper-eroticism of the scene was having an obvious effect on Lane. CJ couldn't help drawing attention to his roommate's stiff, jutting prick. "I see someone's gettin' a little excited."

Lane blushed, but he knew he'd have to face it. "Can't help it," he shrugged, "the sight of my nude body always gets me hard."

"Can't say as I blame you, stud," Spence said between grunts from lifting, "it's a hot fucking body. [Grrruuunnttt] Love your fur, man. Just the right amount. [Grrruuunnttt] Wish I had a trail like that. So fucking hot."

"Thanks," said Lane, straining as well. "But what about you and Chance? [Nnnnnggggghhhh] You two have the best fucking bodies [Nnnnnggggghhhh] I think I ever seen."

"Chance especially," CJ chimed in. "No 'fense, Spence. [Urrrggghhhh] But Chance is fucking unreal he looks so hot. [Urrrggghhhh] And fucking awesomest cock, hands down."

Lane thought it was pretty cool these studs could speak so frankly about each other's bodies. He could get into hanging with guys as cool and casual as this.

"Fuck," he said, "we all got good dicks. If ya ask me."

"Sure," said CJ, "but Chance's is so fucking thick, so long, so veiny. [Urrrggghhhh] Luscious as hell, you know?"

That last comment sorta threw Lane; but he assumed he was talking about how it must seem to chicks who would suck it. He turned and looked at Chance's cock in the mirror. That huge schlong just draped down along his thigh, big fleshy foreskin just barely covering that massive head. 'Shit,' Lane laughed to himself, 'if CJ only knew - Christ, I think it's luscious, too!' Lane had never had sex with another dude, but he sure as fuck thought about it enough. But every dude did, right? It didn't mean nothin'. And it wasn't like he was actually going to suck another guy's dick, right? Especially not one of these three hard-core, all-beef, jock-studs.

Spence was talking now. "Yeah, pretty damn luscious. [Grrruuunnttt] But I think Lane's right. [Grrruuunnttt] I wouldn't turn down any one of these sweet cocks."

That remark caught Lane off-guard, too. But then he realized how Spence meant it: any dude would kill to have one of their big jock cocks hanging between his legs. Yeah, had to agree there. The four boys in this room were very well endowed. Spence's cock was maybe a tad shorter than Chance's but nice and thick; cut, sleek head, and a slight curve to it. Looked so fucking sexy dangling down and bouncing as the boy lifted. CJ's was maybe the smallest of the four, but it was still a fuckin' handful: squat and thick and very tasty-looking. Lane had studied it often in their dorm. It was like the perfect proportion for that massive body of his - you want a beer-can thick cock stickin' out like that, from out of that sweetly trimmed blonde bush - damn, he realized, Ol' Ceej's been trimmin' his bush more; mmmmm, he grunted, looks even sexier, that sweet, trimmed little one-inch row toppin' off his fine-ass hunk of jock-meat. Fuck, Lane thought, I'm bonin' up like crazy thinkin' about these guys' dicks. Shit, he realized with a start, I'm even drippin'!

"I'm gonna grab some water," he said coolly, needing to simmer down a bit from his fevered fantasy. If he were by himself, he figured, he would also be able to milk out as much clear honey as he could and suck his finger clean. Then, he'd have that sweet, sexy after-taste in his mouth for a while. Damn, he loved that. He sauntered into the locker room, anxious to be alone, so he could gobble up his jock-honey while his dick softened.

When he returned, nicely sated from the biggest load of precum he'd ever slurped up, he was greeted with an amazing sight: the two wrestlers were each shinnying up one of the long, heavy ropes hanging from the ceiling.

Lane was riveted to the scene of those two incredibly built boys straining their muscular frames as they raced each other up the ropes. Fuck, their biceps were so damn perfect - beautifully carved and glistening and totally responsive to the physical exertion demanded of them. Lane doubted even he himself could do that, as built as he was. And shit, the sight of those boys' long dicks jiggling and bobbing as they hoisted their hard-cut frames up the ropes, then down, made Lane's mouth dry again. This afternoon had been like walking into a fantasy world for Lane, a space of the college athlete's most secretive erotic fantasies suddenly made gloriously real and vibrant. Lane wasn't gay or anything, but he had to admit it was hands-down the most erotic situation he'd ever been in. He was so hard it hurt.

"Dudes, you should see your big dicks bouncin' around," he shouted, trying to get into the strange new camaraderie of these hard-core muscle-heads.

"You like that, huh?" Spence cried, his voice a grunty rasp.

Lane was a little pissed. How the fuck do you answer a question like that? I mean, no, well, yeah sure, of course, but . . . .

"FUCK YEAH!" he heard his roommate cry. "You dudes look hot as shit! Get down here and lemme show you how much I like those dicks!"

Now just what the fuck was up with THAT, Lane wondered. He decided to just let it pass, not bother trying to figure out what CJ meant, the scene was too engrossing. Hand under hand under hand, their huge arms and upper bodies doing all the work, gorgeous lower bodies held still and straight out, huge thick cocks shaking and jostling. Lane wanted it never to end.

Spencer was about two feet from the bottom, maybe a half-foot ahead of Chance, but suddenly his rival started coming down in huge, effortless swoops, and before you knew it, he was standing on the ground. All Lane could think of was Tarzan. It was like these guys were some primitive jungle lords, transported to the big city but still indulging in their primal, homoerotic traditions.

With about four feet to go, Spence finally let go and leapt down, landing with a thud, but springing up nicely, that hard-muscled frame utterly responsive to his every move.

"Damn," he laughed, going over to hug Chance, "thought I had you."

Lane watched in total fascination as Spence began feeling up Chance's massive biceps. Their sweat-oiled bodies were pressed so close, Lane couldn't believe it. He could never get this intimate with another dude. Fuck, Spence was standing so close, his dick was pressed against Chance's thigh! Aw fuck, Lane dreamed, feeling himself harden, how cool would that feel! Another dude's thick, sweaty cock mashed right up on your thigh.

"These fuckin' guns are awesome, dude," Spence said, slowly and sensually stroking them while Chance smiled and flexed.

"It's a good workout," Chance said shyly, loving the attention Spence was giving his body.

CJ strode over, Lane noticed, and also started feeling up Chance. Lane wanted to head back into the locker room and stroke off madly; he knew he'd cum in about 5 seconds. But he was paralyzed; he had to watch this scene - HOLY SHIT!! His roommate and Chance were now kissing! Feeling each other's bodies all over! Spence joined them. Lane watched in a sort of time-stopped half-swoon as the three sweaty muscle-gods proceeded to rub and suck each other's nipples, kiss each other, stroke each other's cocks and asses. The blur of boy-lust settled over this scene: Spencer, with a hand on each of the other two boys' cocks, Chance & CJ kissing passionately and rubbing pecs, while they were ministered to by Spence.

Lane was absolutely frozen, his mind and body a sudden swirl of equal parts nervous panic, gripped fascination, and undeniable lust. They were all so beautiful, and what they were doing was one of the deepest, most persistent gym fantasies Lane had had since junior high school: the locker room or weight room or shower room exploding in a randy riot of young gay lust. He thought this was just a stroke fantasy he jerked off to some nights (shit, many nights, he realized, as his heart raced and his cock stiffened). But now. . . .

A deep tremble thrummed up in his chest and then a wave of nervous panic overwhelmed him; it wracked his body so hard he felt like he might shake apart. It was like he was standing naked on stage, in front of thousands, and all the darkest fantasies he'd nursed so delightedly, yet guiltily, in private were now hideously exposed. He couldn't deal with this. He was by no means ready to announce his deepest gay longings yet; he could barely articulate them to himself. And by no means could he even think about acting on them. He had to leave. Just turn and walk out and have a calm talk later about it with CJ. Then back to his normal, closeted life.

But he didn't move. He watched, transfixed, with a fascination that was shameful, almost dreadful, and continued to stroke himself. He could just barely make out the sensation his hand registered, that of his dick feeling bigger and harder and fuller than it had ever felt before - fuck, he was massive! - as he watched Spencer kneel down and worship both those long thick jock cocks. Spencer was a pleasure-dervish, ping-ponging between the two, jacking, then licking, then sucking, then kissing, then stroking. Chance and CJ were lost in their own passion, kissing each other hotly or sucking one another's nipples or stroking abs or asses. And all Lane could do was stare, jacking his cock to the most awesome sex he'd ever seen.

Fuck, was it hot. He stoked and stroked a cock that now felt bigger, longer, and harder than ever. He marveled at the feel: it was like steel. Lane often worried about losing his erection when he was fucking some girl, but the hard-on he was jacking now felt like it would never go down. He could just see himself, towering over one of those hot studs, a sweet, smooth ass ready to be ravaged by his awesome cock. He felt like he could fuck one of those luscious asses all day. It didn't even occur to him, as he stroked, that he'd never fucked a boy's ass in his life. For now, his fantasies were materially all-male; his passion had only one gender - his own.

His gaze dwelt on Chance's cock, that incredibly massive tool. They said if you stared into the sun too long, you could go blind. Lane realized if you stared at Chance's cock long enough - the long, thick, veiny perfection of it - you would change physically, sexually. Thick, long, jutting straight up - watching Chance slowly jack that foreskin over that huge head, as Spence was sucking on CJ - that cock was irresistible to Lane. He'd never wanted to so much as touch another guy's dick before, but now he simply had to take that erotic wonder into his mouth.

There was an orgasm building in his balls that overwhelmed him; it felt like it might rupture his scrotum or explode his cockhead. But he didn't care; if he were to go, this was how he wanted to go. The bodies of the three boys he watched pleasuring themselves were the most beautiful he'd ever seen, and they were lavishing such raw, juicy passion on each other.

He'd sneaked quick, shamed glances of guys in the locker room before - who hadn't? - but now he could dwell, study, pore over each inch of gorgeously cut jock-muscle. And it was different than seeing the gay porn he surfed constantly. This was real, vivid, gloriously alive. Cocks and asses and balls and muscles were being licked and fingered and stroked and sucked in a technicolor riot of boy-lust. This went beyond any cheap little jack-off scenario Lane had been able to dream up (and he'd sure been able to dream up enough). This was raw, real jock-muscle desire. Why me, he wondered? Why now? It was all too much. Lane felt precum flooding out of his cock and onto his desperately stroking hand.

He couldn't leave, he understood. He was powerless to turn and walk away, and he knew the reason: because here, in this gym, on this Monday afternoon, as part of a casual decision to go running with his roomie, Lane Myers had met his destiny. No more secrets, no more lies. He was totally into dudes, absolutely - no more bullshitting on that score. That'd been obvious since day one, if anyone was counting. He was totally into the idea of sex with them; it was a longing he'd turned over and over in his mind so many times each day - as many times, he reckoned, as the number of cute guys he'd see and begin fantasizing about.

He'd tried and tried and tried to deny it, of course; those endless sessions of sex with girls were a half-hearted attempt to drive the desire out of him. He'd lied to himself that the sex was satisfying, that he was straight.

He was jacking his huge prick now to an absolutely exquisite sight: CJ's gorgeous head, with its sexy goatee and crewcut, lolling back in total sensual abandon as his nipples and cock were worked over. Oh fuck, Lane thought, as he gazed riveted to that luscious tableau playing out a few feet from him, it was so hot to see someone in total sexual rapture. It had always been such a turn-off for him to watch girls' faces - bored, disinterested, or downright unpleasant - as he threw what he felt was a very hot fuck. Resentment simmered, his dick deflated. Once, first week of school this year, as he was ramming a cute little blonde, feeling the cum churn in his balls, she screwed her face up into a pout and said, "Shit!"

"What's wrong?" Lane asked, grinding to a halt.

"I was supposed to call my mother after dinner. Fuck. She'll be pissed."

Lane could remember just staring at her, his eyes dripping venom.

But now, he realized, it was like he could feel a key turning, this time in the right lock: the door of bliss had sprung open and the first sight he saw was the sheer, raw, glorious pleasure flooding CJ's face. And two other amazingly beautiful boys floating on the same haze of desire. Shit, all four of us are lost in lust, Lane mused dreamily. In a minute, he knew, he would be able to regain locomotion and would slowly walk over there, joining those utterly beautiful boys, passing through a door he knew he would never be able to walk back through.

Spence, meanwhile, was in heaven. Since practice this morning, his mouth had been watering for another taste of hard, meaty boy-cock. And ever since they'd stripped down after their run, his desire had pulsated with ever-insistent rhythm; as they'd lifted in front of the mirror, he could just feel his lips sliding over hard, smooth thickness, and his hands just itched for the feel of a stiff, moist rod and a big floppy nutsac. And now, finally, it was happening.

He loved hearing CJ's and Chance's kisses and lickings punctuated with moans from the pleasure he was giving them, as he went from one to the other: now jacking Chance's huge, ramrod-straight uncut thickness, while his lips and tongue played over CJ's curved, cut beauty; then switching off.

"Mmmm, big dicks!" Spencer panted, between slurps. "I fuckin' love big dicks!"

"You love these hot jock cocks!" CJ cried.

"Oh FUCK yes!" Spence yelled.

Lane was still stroking away in totally awed amazement of the scene: standing around in this erotic setting, four hot-looking young dudes, cocks jutting straight out, amped for action. He felt hot as hell, like he was in a porn flick. CJ called out to him: "Come on over, dude! This guy loves jock dick!"

That was the trigger; Lane was on his way.

Soon Spence was alternating between CJ and Lane, while Chance just rubbed his huge slimy tool over Spencer's cheeks and eyes and forehead, at the same time passionately kissing Lane, now totally a part of this four-way, and playing with the boy's stone-hard nipples.

Lane's mind was a riotous rush of incredible sensations. He felt himself trembling with raw, wonderful life. It was like he'd braved a scary, tortuous swim under a seemingly endless stretch of dark water, and finally surfaced, surrounded by intense sunlight and tropical beauty. It was a wonderful strain to get enough breath just to speak. "Fuck," Lane panted, to Chance, "I wanna suck that huge hard cock of yours, dude." There, he'd said it. Awesome.

"Fuck yeah," Chance grunted. They were all in the hot fevered zone of deep young male passion. Their world was now reduced to hot moistness, hard muscle, stiff pricks, luscious cream, tight asses, and panting tongues. Their brains were fused into one mind, a pulsation of sheer, erotic desire. They were on fire for each other. The gym was full of panting, licking, sucking, moaning, and the wet slap of skin against skin.

Chance and Lane broke away from Spence and CJ and kissed each other madly. Lane traced still-trembling fingers over that incredibly cut chest and those beautifully ripped abs while Chance slowly jacked their two wet, ramrod-straight cocks together for a while, then concentrated on playing with that tempting, teasing foreskin of Lane's, twirling it between his fingers, then jacking his long cock slowly all the way down the length of the shaft, tickling his nutsac, then letting his fingers wander teasingly below, up into his crack; then more ball-play, then jacking slowly all the way up that long shaft, then starting the whole sexy routine again.

Lane was close to fainting. His knees felt like rubber. He'd never had sex this intense before, didn't realize it could be so all-consuming. As Chance worked his cock blissfully, he looked over at his room-mate, so hot-looking: Spence was reaching up to finger the hard little nipples on CJ's huge, massive chest and squeeze those ripe pecs as he continued to go down on that thick cock. Oh, that cock, Lane thought, so fucking beautiful: totally smooth, lusciously thick, curving sexily as it jutted straight up. Fuck, he and CJ would have to do shit like this a lot in their dorm room from now on. How many other dudes were into this shit in their dorms, he wondered? A lot, he bet: it's so fucking fine. Shit, he laughed, this is one of the things college is all about for a young guy: learning about sex with other hot dudes. Thank God he'd finally been schooled in Lesson #1.

Chance pulled the new student down to the mat, in a 69 position, and got to work on the boy's dick. It was a little thinner than the steady diet of thick meat he'd been feasting on lately, so Chance was really able to get his mouth and lips around it, bringing Lane new sensations that had him moaning almost immediately.

Lane was delirious with first-time delight. He'd never had a blowjob this hot, never had anything as exciting as this huge hard prick in his mouth; the feeling of Chance's sensuous fingers paying over his ripe, tingling musculature, sexily tracing up and down his goody trail, as well as the sensuous pleasure from his own hands worshipping his new fuck buddy's hard rippling abs - these tactile sensations were the brandy float over a heady, sparkling champagne cocktail.

That hot panting breath on his cock, as Chance's hungry mouth went from kissing to sucking to licking, and the incredibly erotic sounds of male oral pleasure, were an intense new aphrodisiac for Lane. The gay virgin lay atop this jock sex-god and let his deep instincts take over, figuring out how to pleasure another dude's cock. Meanwhile, he was carried away on a wave of body-bliss as Chance did things to him he'd never even dreamed of: his mouth swirled and licked over his leaky cock-head while one strong hand sensuously, languorously jacked his shaft. Chance's other hand was tickling, rubbing, grooving and fondling his ass-crack and rosebud in a delicious rhythm of ecstasy. The pleasure was so new, so overwhelming, Lane thought he might black out. Only the feel of his lips and mouth playing over that enormously wonderful cock kept him conscious.

As all experienced males know, the pattern of male desire has an inexorable logic - a kind of arc of pleasure inevitably plays itself out, from kissing and groping, through sucking and licking and fondling, culminating in fucking; given enough stimulation, eventually a hard, wet cock is going to need a hot, tight ass, and that ass will want a cock.

It started first with CJ, his cock wet and straining and delirious: "Wanna fuck you, dude," he moaned dreamily, and Spence just smiled and lay back, fingering his hole excitedly. With his fingers and tongue, using spit, sweat, and precum for lube, CJ worked the wrestler-hunk's ass luxuriously for a few minutes, until Spencer was howling for a hot, hard jock cock. CJ was only too happy to oblige, working his thick wet tool in with obscene relish. Spencer's muscular hips began rocking and riding at once with wanton hunger. CJ knelt and spread apart those massive legs of Spencer's, then proceeded to set the rhythm, fucking him with sensuous insistence. The sight of a big thick cock lolling across a boy's lower abs, big juicy nutsac jostling as you rammed his ass, was, to CJ, one of the most beautiful sights in the world. As he pistoned the moist, luscious tightness, he stared lovingly as that meaty stalk of flesh of Spencer's shook and shimmered in the contented rhythm of boy-fucking.

He turned Spence over because he wanted to work that ass from behind. He lay atop him, letting his lower abs rest on that beautifully smooth, round, hard flesh pillow that was his ass. He propped himself up with one muscular arm and, as he began his sensuously slow pistoning, he kneaded that hard-muscled ass or played his hands across that beautifully carved back or kissed his new fuck-buddy on the neck as his head swayed in ecstasy. The feel of his achingly ripe ballsac as it slammed Spence's ass was incredible. Suddenly he felt fingers reach in and play gently, teasingly, over his balls and crack, and - best of all - over that inch or two of cock-base between his balls and pucker.

"OH FUCKING YES!!" he cried. There was nothing, NOTHING, CJ knew, like hard, raunchy gay sex. There must be thousands of ways for dudes to pleasure each other; and when you add in a couple more dudes, the array of pleasure-possibilities grew exponentially.

Chance, too, could hold back no longer. As he sucked that sweet cock of Lane's, amped by the boy's howls of delight in his newly-embraced sexuality, his fingers grazed and rubbed and kneaded over the footballer's lightly furred ass. It was perfect: soft, round, pliant, the light boy-fur making his hands tingle in anticipation.

"Gonna fuck ya, dude," he growled hoarsely, voice thick with unstoppable lust.

"FUCK YEAH!" Lane gurgled, mouth thick with the drool of overheated desire.

Chance slowly pulled his hard, enormous dick from Lane's mouth, causing the boy a few moments of confused, empty sadness. But Lane's regret was only momentary as he began to thrill with Chance's sure, sensuous touch on his ass. The stud-wrestler luxuriated in it like he was digging around in rich, fertile soil. Then a high-pitched pleasure-cry broke from Lane's throat as Chance's nose and mouth dived in, inhaling the sweet, heady aroma of boy-funk.

"OH FUCK YESSS!!!" Lane cried, in deep delight. He was tearing up, he realized, in a mix of wonder, delight, gratitude, and disbelief. How often he'd fantasize about someone tonguing around in his sensitive ass. But it was only a fantasy, until now.

"You like this?" Chance panted, voice still thick with an almost fluid desire. "You like a hot fucking rim job on that tight sweet ass o' yours?"

"OH FUCK YES, DUDE!!!" Lane sounded almost in pain. "Don't stop, don't stop. Aw God." It came out as a soft, silent prayer, begging for this moment to never end.

Chance lapped and spit and sucked and teasingly bit with renewed relish, driving Lane crazy. He smiled to see the boy's hard, wet cock fully extended, bouncing and spronging as he roughly worked his ass. The head was fully exposed now, crowning the long shaft, that thin foreskin stretched smoothly along the length of a truly beautiful dick.

But he was single-minded. As much as he wished he could eat out Lane's ass all day, his dick was throbbing with hard, deep need. So he gobbled and licked and spit and lapped, making munching and snorting and grunting sounds that were like hymn-music to Lane's ears. The boy was having a religious conversion experience there on the mat. He was mouthing one grateful beatitude over and over to the god of male sex (Lane pictured him as some huge-dicked, muscular satyr), humbly thanking him for allowing him entrance into paradise.

Chance's fingers began to stretch and poke and prod and widen Lane's virgin hole. Lane's soft, lust-choked moans of "Oh yes . . . yes . . . yes" further inflamed Chance's already-searing desire. This dude wants it worse than me, he thought, and I'm like dyin' for it.

Finally he could stand it no more. With three fingers jammed and twisting in Lane's hungry, wriggling ass, Chance rose to his knees and, with the other hand, guided his long throbbing prick to the boy's wet, hairy crack. Quick and dirty, his mind thrummed, I need this NOW.

He put the wet, dripping head up to the boy's hole, yanked out his fingers, and plunged the head in.

"AWWW FUCK," Lane screamed. As much as he thought he could imagine it, he couldn't imagine it. A little pain, not much, but mostly sheer unbridled amazement at this huge thing in him. There seemed to be something holding Chance back, which Lane didn't want to happen at all, so he just pushed down on his loins, straining to open wider, and then felt Chance's cock ease further into his excited ass. He gasped and panted and gasped and panted, hyperventilating in pleasure, pain, and still more wonder as Chance worked that monstrous thing further and further into him. He was overcome with the awesomeness of the feeling, this huge hard cock in him. Oh fuck did he love it. In-fucking-credible.

"FUCK ME, Chance! FUCK ME!" he cried hoarsely, scarcely believing the sensation. His ass was tingling and throbbing. He felt electric. The magnitude of his first fuck had him pole-axed with ecstasy.

He lay back and savored the luscious feel and the glorious sight of this muscle-hunk working his ass. Chance towered over him, flushed with the athletic exertions of sex, sweat-drenched, his carved torso and biceps pumped and heaving in a kind of lewd, erotic splendor, that incredibly carved slab of abs rocking and rippling with hypnotic beauty. He was so gorgeous: his skull-close buzz-cut set his raw features off in incredible relief. That manly stubble was erotic as hell, and he had such full, sensual lips. Lane almost floated into unconsciousness with one thought, "God, I love men."

After a while, Lane had an idea. He wanted to experiment a bit with this first fuck, so he called to Chance, a soft, sexy slur in his voice, "Let me be on top for a while, 'K?"

"Oh fuck yes," Chance smiled.

He pulled out, lay back, and Lane looked down at that gorgeous musculature, hard thick cock rising gloriously. Why would you want any other sex, was the ridiculously obvious truth that quietly flooded his brain. His legs on either side, he lowered himself onto that steel-hard shaft, his ass immediately grateful to be filled again. Kneeling first, he slowly, sensuously eased his hips and ass up and down, settling on that cock, letting it fill his guts, savoring the joys of sheer hard dick. OH FUCK, he thought. INCREDIBLE! He heard Chance's moans of pleasure, then felt the muscle-stud begin to rock his hips, anxious to get back to hard-core fucking. Lane was, too. So he squatted up over Chance and pounded his ass up and down on that impossibly long, thick fuck-stick.

The feel of his own hard cock bobbing madly as he bounced up and down on Chance's rocking hips was almost painful, but so damn intense. This was sex that broke every rule he'd ever known, but in so doing, established the new set of rules he would live by from now on. The feeling of that huge thick rod pistoning up in his guts was incredible. His body took over, demanding to savor the thrill, so he lay back on that expanse of hard, well-worked jock torso, and let Chance do all the work.

As Chance pumped those muscular hips, hitting every switch in this no longer virginal ass, Lane stroked his own painfully hard dick. He was building to the most intense orgasm of his life - jacking his ridiculously engorged cock while his ass was stuffed and fucked by that long hard jock meat. He squatted back up again, and while Chance kept pumping, he played wantonly with the boy's big bouncing ballsac and rubbed his crack and asshole. Chance cried, "OH FUCK YESSSS!"

His fevered fingers alternated between jacking his own cock, fingering Chance's balls and ass, and rubbing the base of Chance's exposed dick on the downstroke. Suddenly he squatted up, grabbed Chance's dick out of his ass, sat down on those ripply abs, and jacked both their cocks madly. Chance lay back, loving this hot stud's intense lovemaking. Lane wanted it all: fucking, jacking, fingering. He'd come bounding into the world of boy-sex and couldn't get to everything fast enough. Indeed, Lane wished CJ and Spence would stop fucking and feed him those hard wet cocks.

In the space of about a minute or two, one by one, each of the four jocks came with soul-wrenching abandon. One after another, thick hot jock-cream squirted deliciously onto abs and thighs or deep into a hot ass. The four lay back, stroking and kissing and licking each other in the quiet, heady wake of boy-lust fulfilled. The room was filled with no sounds but contented cooing and sighing, until, the first to get his energy back - as they all would, eventually, for they were young, in the company of hot naked muscle, and so would soon be hard and ready to cum again - CJ said eagerly, "I'll tell you guys what feels fine as fuck: a nice hard cock in your ass when you're fuckin' some dude's tight hole."

"Fuck," Chance whooped, "how about a train in the shower!"

"Shit, bring it on!" Lane smiled, deliciously drunk on his first experience of gay sex.

They raced to the shower room, anxious to turn on all the hot water taps, soap each other in the steam, and start round two.