The Alien Culture Project, part 9
by Rio Mack
DISCLAIMER: This story contains depictions of gay sex.
Chance looked at his watch as he left the salon. It was after one. He made tracks for the gym. He'd do his run, then his lower body workout, then get some lunch and hit the library. Hopefully, he could finish his paper, get his clothes from the tailor, grab a quick bite, change, and meet Reed in front of the club not too much past 7. He laughed as he walked, thinking of his day - late breakfasts with his lover, a cut with his stylist, the gym, then trying on his new outfit, and finally an evening at the club: hell, what a city slicker this ol' country boy had become, he grinned.
He always used the small gym dedicated to the wrestling program for his workouts. Even though it was about a tenth the size of the main campus gym, it had all the weights Chance needed, and he loved the atmosphere there. The building was old, probably from the 30s, and was used until the 1950s as the main campus gym. It had hosted a variety of programs since then, when the larger campus gym was constructed, and then about 15 years ago it became home to the wrestling team. That's when the program really started taking off nationally. Recently, it seemed someone, maybe his coach, had put in some key improvements: sauna, whirlpool, a very cool locker area that seemed like a health club, and a small but well-chosen selection of fitness machines. So it was functional as any gym could be, plus had character, and the only ones who used it were the wrestling team - indeed, they were the only ones who could use it, as you needed a key to get from the lobby to the actual gym complex - and many of his team-mates only showed up there for practice, preferring to do their regular work-outs at the larger gym, with its bustling campus atmosphere and wider range of equipment. Chance, though, loved the quiet atmosphere of this place and the beautiful lighting from the large windows that ringed the top of the high-ceilinged exercise space. For him, his workouts weren't about socializing, they were about intensity, focus, concentration, and pushing his body.
He stowed his gear in his locker, put on a jock and his running shorts and shoes, then headed out for his cardio work. It was a lovely Indian Summer day, so he decided to run shirtless, wanting to feel the sun and warm breeze on as much of his body as possible.
The route he liked to run went along the harbor-front, a gorgeous, touristy part of town. The run from the gym to there and back was about forty-five minutes, just the length Chance wanted. He couldn't help but notice the stares he got from women and, mostly, men. He glanced at his reflection in a store window, and even he was taken aback. Fuck, was he built. And the new haircut was incredible: it brought out his cheekbones, eyes, and forehead more, making him look a little older, maybe, and even more like a hard-chiseled jock stud, someone built for pure masculine physicality. Chance ran on with a deep-body buzz pulsing through him. Fuck, would he like to get laid. He returned the gaze of every good-looking stud who stared suggestively, inquiringly, at him, a couple even licking their lips or stroking their dicks: damn, would he like a quick one right now, to release the load he could feel building in his balls. But no time to stop now; he had to get this run in.
He arrived back at the gym feeling great, body well-worked and ready to pump some iron. He stripped off his running shorts and noticed his body in the mirror, clad in just a jock that looked painted on his rock-hard physique. Damn, stud, are you cut or what, he thought. Inspired, he figured he'd work-out in that sweat-soaked jock. There'd be no one there, and he could get a good look at himself in the mirrors lining the gym walls. He had to have mirrors when he worked out - not only to watch his muscles pump, but to ensure proper form - and the more exposed musculature, the better.
But when he entered the gym, he was surprised to see his team-mate Brock finishing up a set of pull-ups. Before saying anything, Chance watched Brock's ripped upper body strain with each rep. Fuck, Chance thought, this guy is just all muscle. He was hypnotized as he watched the biceps, triceps, and back muscles pump. The blood was rushing in making the muscles bigger, more striated, and eminently lickable. Focus, Chance, he told himself, but he was just horny as hell today. Finally Brock hopped off.
"Looking fucking good, dude," Chance laughed.
Brock, not having realized anyone was there, turned to see Chance. His gaze went immediately to that big sweat-drenched jock-pouch, and he broke out in a huge grin.
"Dude! I love your work-out wear!"
He walked over and hugged his team-mate and recent fuck-buddy. They ground their hard young cocks into each other, while their hands played over each other's smooth, glistening muscles. Brock kept grinding his cock against Chance's long, semi-hard jock-pouch, and Chance let his fingers play hard and insistent in Brock's ass. Chance realized he would be getting his rocks off after all, as there was no way he was gonna let Brock leave without pumping a load or too in that sweet ass. And he knew Brock felt the same way: he was a very hungry bottom for a long, thick hunk of boy-meat. They kissed hungrily.
"Mmmm," said Brock, huskily, when they came up for air, "finish your work-out fast, dude, cause I been dreaming about that dick o' yours ever since our last fuck!"
Chance sauntered over to the squat rack, aware of Brock's eyes burning into him. Brock stripped off his gym-wear and flopped down on the mat nearest the squat station.
"I'm gonna do my stretching here while I watch the best-built stud on campus work that prime beef of his. Damn, they should charge money for this!"
Chance smiled, thinking how tough it was gonna be to focus with such a breath-taking hunk lounging there seductively, stretching those beautifully ripped muscles. Oh well, the things we do for fitness, he shrugged.
After his squats and leg raises, Chance did his calf raises. Brock had finished stretching now, and was stroking his cock slowly, teasingly, as he watched Chance's lean but bulky body rise and fall. His eyes couldn't decide where to focus their gaze: on that nice long clingy jock-pouch, made almost transparent from sweat now, leaving little of Chance's thick uncut beauty to the imagination; or those massive calves and quads, pumping and flexing so sexily with each rep, begging for a tongue-bath; or Chance's deeply-cut abs, which never failed to get Brock hard; or even that gorgeous, newly-shaved head, making him seem like Mr. Muscle-Stud Supreme now.
"Fuck, dude," said Brock leeringly, leaning back against a weight rack in front of Chance, jacking his own uncut rod with one hand while fingering his asshole with the other, "that haircut makes you look even hotter, if that's possible."
Chance could hardly wait to finish his set. Seeing his prize exposed there as Brock teasingly fingered his rosebud, watching Brock go deeper and deeper into that sweet hole he wanted so much to get into, gave Chance a new burst of energy to make this last set his best. God, did he want to fuck. His testosterone level, from the heavy does of athletics mixed with such powerful erotics, must have gone through the roof. Finally, he jumped off the wooden boxes on which he did his calf-raises, embraced Brock's gorgeous body, and pressed him close, licking his ear, breathing hot into it, and stroking off the cut older boy as he whispered, "Just let me do my abs and stretch a little, and then, fuck, do I want that ass of yours!"
"All right, but hurry. I know I'm gonna shoot one enormous load before you finish, watchin' that stud-body o' yours flexin' and ripplin' like crazy. But I want you to pump the second one outta me with this huge stud-cock o' yours!" And with that, he gave Chance's ripe, semi-hard thickness a nice squeeze to send him on his way to the ab station.
As these two studs were lost in their lusty workout haze, another team-mate, Gar Daniels, was suiting up in the locker room. Gar didn't usually work out in the practice gym, but today he wanted to be alone, and he knew this place was little-used by his fellow wrestlers. It seemed Gar was always on edge lately. A lot of it was sex, he knew. He had no problem getting dates - he was pretty good-looking, he thought; plus years of wrestling and all his work-outs had given him an incredible physique - but each date seemed more and more unsatisfying for him. Girls just wanted either no foreplay or some kind of foreplay Gar hadn't a clue about. Everything he did seemed wrong in bed lately. Fucking was becoming no fun: girls seemed snippy, critical; it was like they quickly sized him up as a lousy lay, let him fuck them, then that was that. But, damn, Gar didn't feel like a lousy lay. He had so much sensuality in him, it bubbled up within him, driving him nuts. Shit, he was willing to lap and lick a cunt for hours (more for his sake, maybe, as his tongue and mouth were incredible erogenous zones, he'd discovered), but not many girls really seemed to want that. He wanted his nipples played with and sucked and lightly nipped at; he wanted his cock sucked and his ballsac licked; and damn, did he ever want someone playing with his ass and kissing his pucker - tonguing it like crazy, the way he'd like to tongue a girl's slit. But after the first "ew, gross!" response, he'd been to embarrassed to ask any girl to pleasure him the way he wanted. And then there was fucking itself: sloshing his dick around in some girl's stretched-out pussy, he had to admit, was getting kinda old. What he really wanted to do was find a girl who would let him fuck her in the ass, especially if she had one that was smooth and pert, like a young boy's.
So he lay in bed, or stood in front of the mirror, and jerked off to his fantasies. And what was really weird, what had Gar not a little worried, was how almost always now, those fantasies featured another guy. Gar had always been a little ashamed at his interest in sexy male physiques, but lately it had become almost an obsession. It started about a year ago, in high school. He'd always pored through his fitness mags every month, reading them over and over for work-out tips, but then he started to realize how into the models he was. Soon he began cutting out the sexiest pictures, the most built guys, and putting them in a scrap book, which he'd hid on his bookshelf and used the way he assumed most guys used porn. He'd add to it sexy pictures of barely-dressed guys in ads that he'd also started noticing.
This interest in sexy photos of guys was simply a distilled version of his ambient interest in good-looking guys in all parts of his life. His favorite date last summer was to take a girl to the beach, partly, he knew, so he could scope out buff dudes. And playing team sports last year had gotten way more charged, as he'd really started getting serious about covert stares in the showers or locker room. And then, mid-way through senior year, while surfing for muscle sites on the net, he'd discovered a site with incredible-looking guys, all of whom were nude. The nervous thrill that went through Gar's young body at the time was incredible. It was like stumbling on the world's most marvelous secret. He'd never shot off so fast and hard in his life. He visited that site several times a day for the next week or so, then clicked on all its links, followed more links, and soon had amassed about thirty bookmarks of incredibly hot internet porn, plus a picture file filled with some of the internet photos of naked guys that really got him off. The desktop image, in fact, on his laptop was an incredible photo of a gay porn superstar that never failed to get Gar hard. Thank God his parents respected his privacy and would never snoop around on his computer - it now hid secrets that would really freak them out.
Gar really didn't understand this. Was it just normal male curiosity? Did it mean he was gay? Some of the sites he liked had hot stories of guys having sex, and so many of the ones that got Gar hard all described the kind of sex he craved. It was all too confusing. Plus his parents, who he was sure meant well, had started asking him why he wasn't dating more and didn't he think the Fosters daughter was cute, and she was asking about him. How could Gar tell them what was going through his mind? Hell, how could he talk to anyone about it?
As he laced up his cross trainers, he thought back on the last practice they had in this gym. Fuck, was that hot. The best-looking guy on the team hands-down, Chance Taylor, hadn't worn a jock that day. Oh fuck, was that hot, as the outline of his long, thick meat was so beautifully obvious. Plus, he'd practiced with his singlet pulled down low, showing off every cut line in that gorgeous physique of his. And then, during scrimmages, it seemed like he and Brock Sears were gettin' it on together rather than wrestling. Damn, Gar sure had spilled a lot of seed the past day or so jerkin' off to that one.
But fuck, he thought, this was getting ridiculous. He had to stop letting these fantasies take over his waking mind. It was leaving him feeling way too messed up.
So when he turned the corner into the gym, he stopped dead. There were his two prime male fantasies in something even his over-active imagination couldn't dream up: Chance Taylor was doing his ab work-out - reverse crunches on the Roman chair - in just a jock strap. Gar couldn't take his eyes off him. Neither, he noticed, could Brock Sears, who was sitting back on a mat, his gorgeous, wiry body totally nude, stroking a hard, sweaty dick and fingering his asshole. Gar ducked behind the nearest weight rack and pulled his own cock out. He was nervous as hell, but he'd never been so turned on in his life.
As Chance did his Roman chair work, his body pumped to perfection by now, already beautifully cut abs standing out even more obscenely, Brock was getting ready to cum. He was jerking himself, playing with his balls, and fingering his ass like crazy, dreaming of his stud team-mate's thick cock up there. Chance's cock by now was rock-hard and straining against his sweat-drenched jock.
Finally, Chance finished his last set, jumped off, and flexed seductively in front of Brock. His gorgeous sweat-sheened body, with that long thick uncut beauty seeming almost to pulse in that sweaty jock, was too much for Brock.
"AW SHIT, man! Here it comes!!" Brock stood up and shot all over Chance, then wasted not a minute: he hugged his friend close, rubbing his cream all over Chance's well-worked abs, fingering his boy-juice into every cut crevice. With his other hand, he began to stroke Chance's achingly ripe hardness, anxious for it to begin pleasuring his ass. Inspired, he got down in front of Chance, put his hands on Chance's ass to poke around in his hole, and then began kissing, licking, and sucking on that jock pouch. He was trying to suck out every bit of Chance's delicious jock sweat, drinking it in like some heady erotic elixir.
"Oh fuck, does that feel good, stud. Get me harder, man; I can't wait to get up in that sweet ass of yours. It's gonna feel so good after that - "
Suddenly from another part of the gym, the two young hunks heard a noise like weight plates banging together. They raced over to the sound, and there, behind a weight rack, quickly pulling his gym shorts up, was another team-mate of theirs, Gar Daniels.
"Gar! What the fuck!"
"Oh shit, you guys. Fuck. I can't believe this. I can't believe you two are gay."
"Gar, what the fuck were you spying on us for?"
"Spying? You two dudes were like having a fucking orgy in here. Damn, shit, I gotta get outta here."
Gar turned to go, but Brock smirked: "You sure you wanna go, dude? I mean, it sure looks to me like your dick wants to stay."
Gar turned back around and saw his two incredibly hot team-mates had their arms entwined, each boy slowly stroking the other's hardness. Gar was all nervous and confused.
"This is - I mean, it's - what you guys are doing is - "
"What we're doing, Gar, is enjoying a fucking hot time together. Two fuckin' studs havin' a relaxin' fuck after a hard work-out. Y'oughta try it, dude. Your dick wants to," and with that, Brock motioned to the hard-on Gar couldn't conceal.
"Shit, man, don't front," Brock continued. "You're hard as hell from watching Chance and I get it on. Why'nt you stop bullshitting about it and join us?"
Both Chance and Brock were excited at the thought of a three-way with Gar. He was sexy as hell. He had short blonde hair, buzzed close like the other two boys, but Gar's was buzzed all over, like Chance's (Brock kept a kind of crew-cut on top of his). Gar had very fine, but masculine features: clear-blue eyes; thin, yet sensuous lips; and a square-cut jaw. He looked Scandinavian, Chance thought. He wrestled at a weight somewhere between Chance and Brock, and Chance didn't think he'd ever lost a match since the semester began. He was quite well-built, not especially tall, but massive, with a really big, sexy chest. Plus, he had a tiny little beard covering the bottom of his chin that Chance thought looked sexy as hell.
Both Chance and Brock nuzzled up close to Gar seductively. Brock went right for Gar's crotch, gently tracing the outline of his young hardness.
"Come on, man. Let's have some fun. Ain't no one here but us sexy-ass rasslers."
Chance, meanwhile, had stripped his own jock off. He had his precum-oozing cock pressed right into Gar's hip, and he was letting the fingers of one hand play idly over Gar's lips, chin and jaw. With the other hand, he was rubbing the mounds of the boy's luscious butt.
"I - I just can't believe you two guys are like - I mean, I thought you guys were two of the biggest studs on the team. Aw fuck, Brock, Chance, guys that feels so good, but, seriously, don't, man. Please. Stop. Awww, don't. Stop. Aw fuck, aw shit, man, don't stop." Gar was swept away on a tide of boy-lust.
Chance lowered Gar's shorts and jock, and the boy stepped out of them as if in a dream.
"You guys, I - "
"Come on, dude. We'll show you what a hot fucking body like yours is built for."
They eased Gar onto the mat. Chance started licking his cock and letting his hands massage that big chest, kneading his pecs and tweaking his tits. Brock, meanwhile, moved in close to Gar and began rubbing his own lean, stubbly jaw against Gar's. Then he kissed him hard, and Gar opened his mouth gratefully to receive Brock's tongue. The switch had been thrown, Gar was ready to experience every passion available to a pleasure-driven young boy.
"Ohhhh fuck, you guys," he moaned as Brock smothered him with kisses and Chance sucked him to hardness. "Fuck, I've been dyin' to get it on with a guy. Shit, I jack off all the time thinkin' about it. Fuck man, you have no idea!"
"We know, dude. We know," Brock said. "You're a red-blooded boy, man, same as us."
Brock scooted his lean, muscled body around, so that his foreskin-covered cock was right at Gar's lips.
"You wanna suck some cock?"
"Oh shit yes!" Gar cried. He brought both hands up to stroke Brock's hardness, play with the foreskin, revel in the feeling of finally having another guy's dick in his grasp. Then he let Brock guide the tip to his lips. He tasted it tentatively, letting his tongue-tip wander around Brock's precum-covered piss-slit. He looked up at Brock and grinned.
"Aw fuck that tastes good, dude!"
"Mmmm, you got a nice big taste of my sweet jock honey, dude. I can feel a little more oozin' out. Lap it all up, man. A boy's precum is the best fuckin' taste in the world. Then, keep licking and sucking and you'll get the second-best taste: a nice big load of a young stud's cream."
Brock was gently tracing Gar's fine features as he encouraged Gar to take more and more of his cock. Soon Gar was hooked and going at it with an almost delirious relish. Gar couldn't decide what was giving him more pleasure: Brock's cock in his lips or Chance's lips on his own cock. Soon, though, his body decided for him, and he pulled his mouth off Brock; Chance had brought him to the brink.
"OH FUCK, Chance!! AW CHRIST, I'm gonna shoot."
Brock smiled as he saw Gar's face clench, and watched as the boy squirted a huge creamy load all over his abs and chest. Chance took a small taste, as did Brock, and the rest they let cover Gar. He looked so sexy baptized with the traces of his first experience of ripe young boy-sex.
"Aw shit that was fine, Chance!" Gar cried, amped as hell. He hungrily put Brock's cock back in his mouth and resumed his first blow-job.
Chance was so hard he was hurting. He knelt there, just mesmerized by Gar's sweet ass.
"Gar, man, you ready for some more fun?" He eased his fingers down into Gar's ass-crack so the boy would know what he meant.
"Shit yeah, man. I want you guys to show me everything, I wanna do everything I been dreamin' about! Aw fuck is this ever hot!"
Kneeling there on the mat, ready to break in the sweet cherry ass of this gorgeous stud, Chance gazed down the length of his own tight, 8-pack slab, shimmering with sweat, to his obscenely hard dick, so eager to plow this young hunk's ass and show him more of the sweet, indescribable pleasures he'd been denying himself. Chance stroked his long, thick shaft slowly in anticipation, at the same time rubbing the smooth, wriggling globes of his formerly straight team-mate's ass, moving in to work open his virgin pucker, encouraged by the way it seemed to hug his finger, clamp down hungrily and draw it into it, begging for something bigger and harder.
A kind of heavy, erotic thrum started to pulse through Chance's brain; he was being overcome by the strong, deep waves of physical lust oozing through it. 'There's nothing like a tight young ass,' was what that delicious, rhythmic pulse seemed to be saying over and over. Chance rubbed that sweet, smooth ass tenderly, mouth starting to drool with sheer sexual longing. He played inside it more, watching his own long, wet cock bounce and twitch, like an eager young colt, anxious to get into the stable. He got what seemed a handful of Gar's cum, scooped from off his abs, and mixed it with his own spit and precum, then he worked it in around Gar's hole, spreading it further and further open with his thumbs, poking his fingers as far up into that virgin pleasure-zone as they would go. Chance giggled a little at how insistently wriggly Gar's ass was, eager as hell to feel its first hard boy-cock up there. Gar, tingling with the most crackling sexual electricity he'd ever felt, took his mouth off Brock's luscious dick for a moment to cry out excitedly to Chance:
"Aw fuck, man! You got me goin' crazy, Chance! Please, dude! I gotta know what that big, beautiful hard cock o' yours feels like up there! Fuck me, stud, fuck me, please! Feed me that incredible dick of yours! Take my cherry, man! Let me know what a gorgeous muscle-stud's big dick feels like filling up my ass! Damn, you boys are so fucking beautiful, so fucking sexy. God, this is the most incredible sex I've ever had. Fuck, I never want this shit to end!"
Gar got back on Brock's dick. Chance watched Brock reach a hand behind him and play with their team-mate's hard, wet cock. Gar had a tight, ripe ballsac, not loose and full like his and Brock's. It was made for tickling, and that's just what Brock was doing. Chance smiled to see the boy's stiff pink 7 inches dance around excitedly under Brock's playful teasing.
As Chance worked Gar a little wider, he thought of all the good-looking young guys on campus like Gar, like he himself had been, so hungry for hot, sensuous, deeply-satisfying sex, the kind of complete physical passion one could only experience with another boy. It felt so fine to Chance to be able to initiate a hot young dude like Gar into this wonderful erotic fulfillment. He was glad Reed was cool with him having these dalliances. Chance didn't feel at all like he was cheating on Reed. He just felt like a healthy, lusty young boy who was glad he could be intimate with others like him. And for boys like Cain and Kyle and Gar, he felt like a kind of guide, an older brother maybe, showing them a whole world of physical and sensual pleasure they'd only secretly dared dream of.
I'm gonna give him the fuck of his life, Chance thought, as he plunged his thick, wet dick in, slowly but firmly. His whole body seemed to sigh as that warm, moist, tight flesh enveloped his cock. It was intoxicating to hear Gar's deep moans of bliss resonate through his deliciously cock-stuffed mouth. Gar must be on Cloud Fucking Nine.
He lifted Gar's legs onto his shoulders and started into fucking. All the ambient lust of the past couple hours came to a head in Chance. He could feel his big jostling balls filled to the brim. After a few good thrusts, he found his sweat-slick cock could move easily in Gar's ass. He long-dicked him for a while, so Gar could relish the incredible feel of hard, thick boy-meat up his ass. The whimpers of pleasure coming from Gar were music to Chance's ears. Then he settled in for some serious fucking. Might as well let this kid have the ride of his life first time out. Chance raised his bulk up, grabbed Gar's hips, and started pistoning.
"Strap yourself in, dude. This is gonna be some serious fucking."
Chance was soon hitting spots in a boy's ass he'd never known before, so intent on this fuck he was. Brock hopped around so he and Gar could sixty-nine each other while Chance fucked. Actually, Brock wanted to watch his hot stud team-mate fuck up close; he was a little jealous it wasn't his ass being reamed by that gorgeous hunk of meat. Oh well, he thought, maybe later in the showers. That thought was enough to inflame his lust again, and he sucked Gar with relish.
As he sucked, Brock stared down at Chance's newly buzzed pubic patch, shaved almost to the skin, so fucking masculine, and he watched that thick, veiny rod go in and out, up to the hilt, enveloped by Gar's tight, young virgin hole. How fucking hot! He started face fucking Gar with a fury almost as hard as Chance's. He brought his hands around to dig into Chance's hole as the stud savagely took Gar's cherry; he knew a finger up his ass would get Chance even harder.
"Oh yeah, dude! Play with that ass! Fuck, Gar, you got the tightest ass I ever fucked. Shit, is this sweet!"
Gar said nothing. He could only suck and whimper. He was almost in tears at having sex beyond anything he could have ever fantasized. He wondered if you could blackout from such pleasure. He could feel another load build lusciously in his balls.
Brock meanwhile was sucking Gar to his second climax, all the while playing Chance's ass like a concert pianist. He loved going low, down to the perineum, so he could feel Chance's big ballsac flapping hard against Gar's ass.
Gar pulled off Brock for a second to pant, "Fuck, guys . . . I'm gonna . . . uurrrggh!"
Brock pulled off so Chance could watch the boy cum. Sure enough, it was so hot watching ropes of Gar's cream shoot that Chance knew he was cumming. He pressed his hips in firm and shot a major load in Gar's ass. The expression on the boy's face - that gorgeous stud's stubbly jaw clenched in the height of a young boy's passion - was all it took for Brock, who creamed all over Gar's flushed face. The three young wrestlers collapsed in a heap of hard, chiseled flesh.
After a few minutes Brock and Chance raised themselves off Gar. The boy just lay there, looking as sublime as a young zen monk, trails of thick cum covering his face and torso.
"How was it, dude?" Brock laughed. "Glad you stuck around?"
Gar raised himself and tenderly kissed his two team-mates in turn. Then he grinned. Nothing else needed saying.
"C'mon guys," Chance called, already up and headed for the showers, long dick bobbing while he sped off. "I gotta get goin'!"
He'd turned on a few shower heads, so the place was all steamy a few minutes later when Gar and Brock sauntered in, one hand on each other's ass, the other stroking each other's dick. They all huddled together under one shower, pressing up close against themselves as they washed, in the robustness of youthful passion. Gar insisted on squatting down to wash each of their cocks thoroughly, which led to him sucking both of those irresistibly tempting, long, uncut danglers. First one in his mouth, while he played with the other's foreskin, then the other. This went on until both boys' dicks were hard, full, and ready to shoot again. Gar kept turning from one to the other, sucking, jacking, and ball-tickling, while Chance and Brock kissed, tongue-dueled, and pinched each other's nipples.
Suddenly, Brock shouted, "All right, dudes! My turn! C'mon, Chance! You know what I want, stud!"
Chance smiled, hot and hard now for the chance to fuck Brock's hard, tight ass. Brock put his hands against the shower wall and jostled his ass alluringly at Chance.
"Slam that thick meat into me, stud! I need a first-class fucking!"
Gar watched blissfully while these two gorgeous boys went at it. He stood in back of Chance, rubbing the boy's hard, rippling back muscles as he slowly and sensuously long-dicked Brock. Then he got an idea. He bent down, spread those hard, muscular cheeks, and lapped at Chance's crack.
"SHIT YEAH, Gar!' Chance whooped. "You KNOW I want some fine-ass sexy stud givin' me a rim job while I poke this tight jock ass!"
Gar was thrilled Chance was into it.
"Fuck man, I could eat this beautiful ass of yours all day, Chance. I get hard as hell rimming you, dude!"
Gar couldn't believe he was talking like this. It was just the kind of dirty sex-talk he'd always dreamed of sharing with a partner. It got him hard as hell. He let his tongue and lips go wild on Chance's hole, doing to this hunk's ass what he'd wanted to do to girls' cunts for so long. Only this was better: Chance was shaved smooth, and it felt delicious lapping at his slick crack while kneading the rock-hard globes of his butt-cheeks. He lapped, licked, breathed hot, and snaked his tongue all up in his new fuck-buddy's ass.
"AW SHIT, that's so fucking fine, Gar. You could give lessons in this shit, man! You got me hard as hell!"
"He's right dude," Brock cried, loving the ass-pounding he was getting. "Chance feels even bigger than the last fuck we had in these showers!"
Gar's head started swimming in the wondrous reveries of lusty youth. He'd stroked himself hard as he thought about it: So these boys have fucked in here before? Damn, he thought, maybe other guys on this team are gay, too. Fuck, wouldn't it be great to have regular sex like this, with the gorgeous boys on his team? He had to know.
"Damn, do you mean guys on the team have sex after practice?"
"Shit, yeah, man! There's always a few dudes gettin' it on in the showers or the whirlpool or over by the lockers. I mean, fuck, I'm so horny most days after practice, I could shaft a snake! Shit, man, you gotta join us from now on, dude!"
Gar was so fucking thrilled to think his sexual frustrations were over. All his confusion and uneasiness had burst through this afternoon into glorious pleasure: it was as if, deep down inside, his soul had cum along with his cock. With a wet, soapy hand, he jacked his own cock and fingered his hole as he continued to luxuriate in rimming this sexy, shaved muscle-stud's ass. Chance by now was flexing his cheeks against Gar's tongue every time he drove into Brock's ass. It was incredible to feel this gorgeous jock respond so well to the oral pleasure Gar was giving him. Fuck, Gar thought, finally - real honest-to-goodness sex, at last! Shit, he was so damn happy he felt like yelling. Why not?
"DAMN, dude! I love this sweet, shaved, hard jock ass of yours, Chance!"
"Keep rimmin' me, dude. I want that hard fuckin' tongue o' yours buried in my ass when I cum in Brock. And I'm gettin' pretty close."
Chance started jacking Brock's uncut beauty hard and fast, in the same rhythm he was using to pump his ass. Gar's exquisite rim-job was the icing on the cake. Chance felt his balls ready to erupt.
"Here it comes, studs!" he cried.
And with that he slammed into Brock's ass. As the warm jets spurted into him, Brock shot off. The force of all this boy-lust was too much for Gar, who immediately blew his load.
Afterwards, the boys rinsed off, kissed each other tenderly, and raced to get dressed.
Outside, Gar hugged them both, thanking them for this epochal day in his life.
"Shit, Gar," Brock smiled, "I bet I speak for Chance, too, when I say we were only too glad to let you experience the kind of sex guys crave. Any time, dude, any time!"
"Welcome to the wonderful world of wonderful sex," Chance smiled, kissing his new fuck-buddy goodbye.
As it turned out, Gar's parents would happily wonder that night what in the world happened to take their son out of the funk he'd seemed to be in for the past few months. It was wonderful, they felt, to have their darling boy back.
About ten minutes after he'd left the gym, Chance grabbed a take-out grilled chicken sandwich then raced on to the library, feeling fine as fuck.
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