This is a work of gay fiction. The characters and scenarios existed only in the mind of the author. If you are offended by men and boys of various ages engaging in gay sex, please read no further.
(Gay Athletics)
It was the summer of 1973. I was a 12-year old boy preparing to enter junior high in the fall. My name is John Simpson. At that time, people called me Johnny.
With puberty taking over, and my hormones raging, I was interested in two things: Basketball and boys. That second part was naturally a secret. Homosexuality, especially male homosexuality was either considered a dirty sin, or the butt of jokes by the more "tolerant."
I think I had always known that I was attracted to boys that way. I had felt the first stirrings in my loins while watching "Sandy" on "Flipper" TV show reruns. The aptly named, sandy-haired blonde boy was seemingly always shirtless and dressed only in cut-off jean shorts. I longed to feel his bare chest, and for him to hug and kiss me. Naturally, I didn't tell a soul.
Growing up in Southern California, UCLA basketball was at it's national championship winning apex under coach John Wooden. I would listen in bed on my transistor radio to all of their games on KMPC 710, with Dick Enberg calling the action.
If I didn't have school, I would play basketball from morning till night. Through sheer hard work I had developed into a good ball handler and a promising point guard. Making the 7th grade basketball team was my only goal in life.
My parents admired my dedication and my ability to maintain good grades at the same time. They surprised me by offering to send me to a week-long, sleepover basketball camp at a nearby junior college. It was to feature a special appearance by coach Wooden. I was in heaven.
I ran the several blocks to the home of my best friend, Matt Reynolds.
Matt let me in. I blurted out how excited I was to be going to basketball camp and that I would be gone for a whole week. Matt was happy for me. I wished that he would be going too, but he was becoming more interested in the electric guitar and forming a rock band than basketball.
Handing me a Coke from his refrigerator, I was immediately distracted, as I always was, by the presence of Matt's handsome, 16-year-old older brother, Chuck.
Chuck was blonde, muscular, and gorgeous. A running back on the high school football team, he now had a driver license and was dating a pretty, brunette, sophomore girl. He was the definition of a BMOC.
I suppose any idiot could see the boy crush I had on Chuck. His girlfriend could certainly see my moony eyes and teased Chuck about it, writing it off as extreme hero-worship for a popular high school football star. I was to find out that Chuck knew that it was more than that.
Matt agreed to shoot baskets with me if I listened to him struggling to pick out the chords to Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water."
I was now days away from basketball camp as I walked to Matt's house to hang out with him for the afternoon.
I was met at the door by Chuck, just home from summer football conditioning. His bare, muscular chest glistened with sweat. He explained that Matt had gone with his parents to his his aunt's home in Camarillo, and they would be gone all day.
Chuck smiled and invited me inside for something cold to drink. As we sat at the kitchen table where I had enjoyed many meals, Chuck attempted to get the truth out of me,
"I see the way you look at me, Johnny. My girlfriend doesn't even look at me that way." I began to turn a bright shade of crimson. Chuck began to regret his questioning as I'm sure I looked like I was about to cry."
"Look, I'm sorry. I'm not accusing you of being a faggot or anything," Johnny continued. "I just want to know what's going on? If you just admire me as an athlete, that's cool. I would probably freak out if I met Roman Gabriel. You can tell me, I won't f get upset or tell anyone."
For some reason, I decided to lay it all out: "Chuck, I think you're the handsomest boy that I've ever seen. Your girlfriend must be the luckiest girl in the world to be with you."
Chuck snorted, "Lucky? She won't put out at all. I can't even get a lousy hand job from her. She's too busy brushing her hair all day." (Feathered hair had just come into existence).
Looking at Chuck's muscular chest I remarked, "She must be crazy. If I was your girlfriend I'd be all over you." I really didn't know what I was saying, but that's the way it came out. I was embarrassed. Chuck was intrigued.
Standing in front of the refrigerator to get some more ice tea for us, I could see the growing bulge in his tiny, tight, 1970's athletic shorts.
"What would you do?" Chuck asked seductively. Red-faced, I again lowered my head.
Rubbing his tan chest, Chuck said, "Why don't we go upstairs to talk?" I dutifully followed him upstairs to his bedroom. The walls were covered with pictures and posters of famous professional athletes and sexy actresses, I looked at the pictures with interest.
Chuck then surprised me by taking me into an embrace. He asked me if I would like to kiss him? Dumfounded, I could only nod my head as our lips met. His hand lightly brushed my crotch. I was also wearing a pair of athletic shorts and a tank top. My arms were starting to make the transition from preteen wiry to muscular as a result of the weight bench that was set up in Matt and Chuck's garage.
The kiss was heaven. It was my first boy-kiss and I vowed to remember it the rest of my life. The next thing I knew, Chuck's shorts were on the floor. He was wearing only a traditional athletic supporter or jock strap, which well-showcased his cut, athletic body and the growing penis in his front pouch.
Kicking his shorts out of the way, I could see Chuck's firm, tan-lined ass through the back of the straps of his jock. Chuck then proceed to lift my tank top over my head. He playfully gave me two titty twisters as he reached for the elastic on my shorts and lowered them to the ground.
My boxer shorts were next to go. As I stood there naked, I was suddenly self-conscious of my small, hairless, preteen penis which was rapidly coming erect from staring at the handsome 16-year-old boy. I tried to cover it with my hands.
Chuck had removed his jockstrap and was now proudly naked. His penis was medium-sized, but seemed large to me at the time. We were both standing near his bed when he began fondling my small cock and pea-sized balls. I gasped at my first touch from another boy.
My heart was pounding as he held my penis in his clenched hand. Beckoning me to his bed, I admired his firm, athletic ass, but was too timid to touch it. He lifted me onto the bed and placed me on my back.
Laying beside me, our naked cocks rose to the sky like two small flag poles. Chuck kissed my preteen chest as he gently jacked me off with his hand. I came quickly.
Pointing to his throbbing cock, he suggested that I try putting it my mouth. He instructed me carefully. First, I licked the head like a popsicle as I felt its girth in my hand. Next, I inserted the head and part of his shaft into my small, eager mouth.
I must have done something right as he eventually shot a load into my mouth, causing me to cough as it hit the back of my throat. There was cum dripping from my lips and face.
I watched Chuck's cock begin to soften as he got up from the bed to get some tissues to clean my face. Seeing my concern, Chuck assured me that no one would ever know. He soothed me by kissing me on the mouth and stroking my back. Chuck was a good kisser.
As I laid back down he explored my young, naked body with his hands and mouth before offering me the same privilege, I straddled the teenager. My naked ass, balls and penis rested facing down on his torso as I felt my way around his muscular stomach, legs, and rallying cock. I would remember the feel of his smooth, naked body the rest of my life.
As I leaned forward to caress Chuck's lower torso, I suddenly felt a single finger probing my asshole. I jumped in fright. I had never even heard of such a thing. Chuck quietly asked me to relax as his fingers alternated between penetrating my virgin anus and fondling my balls. I must admit that both quickly became welcome new sensations.
Chuck announced that he had a new idea and asked me to get off of the bed. I did so willingly as he bent me over the desk where Chuck did his schoolwork. Chuck carefully spread my legs as he wrapped his arms around me in an embrace as he continued to fondle my little cock and balls.
The next thing that I knew I could feel Chuck's cock penetrating my asshole. I called out in pain and tried to raise my head from the desk, but Chuck used his strong arms to continue to hold me in place as his balls slapped against my butt cheeks.
I would never have believed it, but within minutes that intense pain turned to unimagined pleasure as I absorbed my first cock.
Chuck wiped my tears and offered to let me bugger him with my fingers as a sort of apology. I announced that it was probably time for me to go home before any of his family returned.
Chuck apologized profusely. He hadn't meant to hurt me, but got caught up in the moment, blaming his uncooperative girlfriend.
Technically, Mike had sodomized and raped me, then a 12-year-old boy. Many would have been traumatized. I, however, was grateful to have been turned out by the handsomest older boy in the neighborhood. Reflecting on my earlier gay fantasies, I had just given a blow job to a boy as cute as Sandy from the Flipper TV-show,
I can't tell you how excited I was when my mother drove me to the Monday morning start of basketball camp. There were more than 50 campers there already when I arrived to check in. I was in with youngest group, those going into 7th grade. The oldest group were 10th to 12th graders. The counselors were junior college players, and we were coached by high school and junior college coaches.
My group was led by coach Dave. He was probably in his early 30's, with shoulder length brown hair that he kept in place with an Adidas headband. Coach Dave was from another junior college, but that was pretty much all I knew about him that first day.
We immediately began running drills. I was head and shoulders ahead of many of my peers that first day, and I must have been very aware of it.
Coach Dave pulled me aside and complimented me on my basic skills, but told me not to be afraid to learn new things. That week I would learn to dribble and drive to my left, as well as techniques for playing zone and man-to-man defenses.
Four hours of practice were over in what seemed like fifteen minutes. Told to take a shower, we were told to shower up before being paired with a roommate and being shown to the on-campus dorms.
As I had not entered junior high, I had no prior experience with communal athletic showers. I prayed that my cock would not get hard as I surveyed the mass of naked boy-bodies in the locker room. There were cocks, asses, and chests of all shapes, colors, and sizes as the warm water caressed our naked, young bodies.
Exiting the shower, we were handed towels by coach Dave.
My roommate was a 12-year-old boy from Orange County named Brice Heflin. He was part of our age group and we had scrimmaged with and against each other all day. He had worked hard but he looked like he would've been happier at the beach.
Brice was deeply tanned on his legs, face, and upper torso. He explained that he and his brothers were avid surfers, but he liked basketball too. Like me, he hoped to play for his junior high school team.
Brice was a pleasant boy, and I figured would be a compatible roommate. We hurriedly threw our clothes into drawers before heading to the cafeteria for dinner.
Exhausted, in a good way, I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. At around midnight I was awakened by an unfamiliar sound. At first I thought it was a cat mewing outside. I was to discover that it was Brice whimpering.
He was embarrassed as I approached him to find out what was wrong. He tried to cover the tears with his hands as he sniffled. He told me that this was his first night ever away from home without his parents, and he was scared and homesick.
As summer nights are hot in Southern California, we were both shirtless and dressed for bed only in our "skivvies." To reassure him that everything was O.K., I climbed into his bed and wrapped my arms around his thin, bare chest. As it was hot in the unairconditioned room, he was laying on top of the bedcovers.
Since the bed was designed for one, we had to spoon together to be comfortable. It wasn't my fault, but I'm sure that Brice could feel my little dick pressed against his slender rear.
Surprisingly, Brice responded to my innocent touches by moving my hand beneath his boxer shorts. Brice was a really cute boy, and my hand began to explore his similarly small, hairless cock.
Seeing that Brice was receptive for more, I removed both of our underwear, and laid atop Brice's slim, naked body as I looked into his brown eyes. Brice kissed me and his hands roamed across my back and butt. I could feel our erect penises rubbing together sensuously.
Knowing that we had a weeks worth of basketball practices, I said to Brice. I know something that may get you to sleep.
Lowering my body between Brice's hairless legs, I wrapped my hand around his little penis. Stroking it gently, I soon put the whole of it into my mouth and began sucking it as I had learned from Chuck.
Better prepared this time, Brice quickly shot his small load into my mouth. I didn't spill a drop.
We laid naked beside each other. My little penis was resting comfortably against his butt cheeks as we soon fell asleep.
Brice and I would spend the rest of the week in the same bed each night. Although we didn't engage in anal sex, our nightly sexual activities escalated as we continued to experiment through the entirety of basketball camp.
My basketball skills and confidence grew each day of the camp. Coach Dave was very encouraging throughout, and wrapped his arms around me following a particularly good scrimmage.
I grew to admire the young coach more and more each day. Coach Dave had played college basketball at Oregon State. Still trim in his early 30's, his brown hair was long like a tennis players. I have to admit that I was developing a boy crush on coach Dave.
On the third day of practice, rather than handing towels to all of the naked boys in the shower, coach Dave was actually showering with us. Shower time had become one of my favorite parts of the day. Looking at all of the naked boys from ages 12 to 17 had been a joy. Like a fat man visiting a buffet.
As I sat on a locker room bench undressing, a completely naked coach Dave walked toward the communal showers. I quickly undressed to head to the showers to watch.
I think that the coach purposely showered that day to show up the older teenagers. His body was lean and muscular, with a light smattering of brown hair on his chest, legs, and pubic area. His penis, however, put even Chuck's to shame. Although not particularly thick, it stood straight down like an extra appendage. It must have been close to 6" completely flaccid! Coach Dave was very tan except for the white skin surrounding his swim trunk lines.
I turned away as I could feel my small penis begin to twitch.
As I dressed and prepared to exit the locker room, coach Dave asked to see me after our evening meal.
Knocking on coach Dave's dorm door, which was in a different wing than the rest of us campers. He was wearing a t-shirt and tight, small, Hang Ten shorts.
Ushering me into his room, I noticed that he seemed to look left and right to ensure that no one saw me.
As I sat down in his similarly spartan room, I could see that he was in a serious mood. "Johnny," he said, "I've noticed that you have roving eyes in the shower. I just want to tell you to be careful with that. Some kid might give you a severe ass-kicking if they think you're looking at their cock."
I lowered my head, which i later realized was an admission that it was true.
Coach Dave reassuringly reached for my face. "Johnny, it's perfectly natural for boys your age to be curious about sex. Mixed in with a group of other boys it's not unusual to want to check out what the other boys are packing." Coach Dave then adjusted his sitting position so that I could get a good look at the bulge in his crotch,
"Tell me, Johnny. Have you ever acted on your urges?" I nodded my head. Not wanting to mention my nightly naked make-out sessions with Brice, I said shyly: "I had sex with a 16-year-old neighbor boy."
"Did you like it?" Coach Dave asked. I purred, "Very much."
Coach Dave removed his shorts. His cock was now fully engorged, and seemed to be 8 or more inches. "Was he as big as me?" Coach Dave asked. I could only shake my head no. Needing no more encouragement than the huge cock before me, I began to undress.
No longer embarrassed by my small, hairless cock, coach Dave took it into his mouth as his hands caressed every inch of my smooth, bare ass and between my small butt cheeks.
Coach Dave was much more skilled with his mouth and tongue than either Chuck or Brice, and I came rather quickly. The coach seemed pleased that I was mature enough to produce semen,
His greedy hands and lips explored every inch of my naked, preteen body, as we fell to the cold floor. My little hand seemed inadequate as I tried to wrap it around his big dick.
Lifting me like a feather, he placed my head down and my ass up. Gritting my teeth as I expected to be penetrated by his large cock, coach Dave began to voraciously lick my anus with his tongue. Lapping furiously, he reached beneath my legs to fondle my little ball sack and penis.
When he was satiated, we moved to his small. He got on all fours and asked me if I had ever fucked anyone this way? I truthfully answered no, which seemed to excite him.
Telling me to spit on my hand and rub it on my cock, I entered him easily. It felt oddly warm, and good. I pumped coach Dave's ass to the best of my ability as I reached around to rub his cock and balls before shooting a full load into his experienced butthole.
I quickly dressed and exited coach Dave's room. Walking back to my own dorm room, I slipped into bed, and the nude, waiting arms of Brice. I excitedly told him of my story, and suggested that I would be willing to share him with coach Dave.
The End
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