Part 3
The next morning I picked up Chas at his house. Wearing a dark blue football jersey, levis and white Nikes, He rushed outta his house and climbed into the VW. 'God!' I thought, 'he's so fuckin' hot!'
"How you doin', Billy?" he asked, adjusting his jutting crotch.
"O. K., Chas," I answered, "You?"
"Got up late, man. Didn't have time to jack off this mornin' Fuckin' dick won't go down! (he tried sliding Mr. WeeWee to the left leg--then to the right--but it still protruded, stiff and menacing!) First period, I'm gonna stay in the commons, drink a little coke and eat a sausage biscuit. But I got your breakfast here, dude. (still fussing with his package).
"But Chas," I said, "I can't--I already......."
"Meet me in coaches office, dude, at 8:30. I need to dump a load in your pussymouth!"
"But, Chas," I said. "You know Ms. Pritch----"
"She'll let you out," he said, "You're her boy! Just meet me there, fag!"
That said, he leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. He fell instantly asleep--even snoring a little!
I could barely keep my eyes off him. 'Pay attention,' I thought, 'You're gonna fuckin' wreck the Bug!'
Chas slept all the way to my parking space on campus. Once I parked, he climbed out of the car, stretched and said one word (or two, depending on your definition of one! "Eight-thirty!"
Then he strolled through the parking lot to a group of sophomore girls who seemed to be as hot for him as I was.
"Hey, ladies," he said, as he smiled his 100 watt, killer smile. He put his arm around one of the chicks. (Chas is an equal opportunity fucker--he'll screw anything that moves--boys--ugly girls, etc.) "What's up?" he asked, letting his hand slip down to fondle her cute ass--- "MMMMM-- Nice Rack, honey," he continued--his eyes glued to her pert and BIG titties.
"He-he-he," the girls tittered as Chas walked to the locker room door. "Cyall after the game tonight!" (we played Stewart Central--our big rivalry!)
"You sure will, Chas," the chicks responded, giggling and squirming--as though they needed his big pecker in their twats right now--and Chas sure would have complied--but maybe not in the parking lot!
I headed to class and sat--watching the hands of the clock edge closer to 8:30. I was in agony. What if ol' lady Pritchard wouldn't let me out? She never lets anybody out.
"Hold it till class is over," she says. One morning she said that to Chas and he grabbed his crotch and 'held it' all the way back to his seat--to the amusement of the class! 'What a stud!' I thought. And at 8:30 I'll fuckin' be holdin' it. I popped a boner thinking about it!
At 8:25 I asked Ms. Pritchard if I could be excused. "It's an emergency--I think I need to throw up, m'am," I said, rushing to the door. 'I don't wanna be late,' I thought, racing past two teachers who both shouted, "Walk!" I did--till I got outta view and hurried down the steps, two at a time. (Coach Zimmerman's office was in the basement.)
Dashing down the corridor, I arrived at the door and knocked.
No answer, but I heard the sounds of people scurrying around inside. So I knocked again.
"Who's there?" a booming voice asked.
"It's Billy Boyton, sir," I answered to the voice I thought was coach. 'Jeez,' I thought, 'What'll I say to him?'
"C'mon in. Door's unlocked," Booming Voice said.
I opened the door and spotted three dudes sitting in the office chairs. All three had their pants down around their ankles.
The room was sorta dark, with only a desk lamp burning. But I recognized my red-headed stud, Chas; my Greek God, Mike; and a new guy who was fuckin' huge--he dwarfed Chas and Mike. He had a pecker that stood a foot tall (Nah! But I bet it was 8-9 inches) and as thick as my wrist. His equipment made Mike's 7 1/4 and Chas' 7 1/2 look small. (They had me measure them!)
"Get in here, fag, and lock the fuckin' door!" Mike commanded.
"Yessir, Master Mike," I said.
"Jesus! He really does call ya 'master', dude," said Booming Voice (who I later learned was John Walton, defensive tackle and state wrestling (Heavyweight) champ.)
' Man,' I thought. 'This is gettin' outta hand. Now I got three dudes to suck off!' I was scared I was gettin' a 'rep'--Freelance Cocksucker was not a label you want applied in high school.
"Strip and get on your knees, cockwhore!" Chas said.
"Why strip?" John asked. "Shit, man, I don't wanna see his little peter. That's fuckin' gay. I just need to blow a load. Stephie ain't let me have none all week and I'm horny as a two-peckered goat!"
"It ain't 'gay' to get sucked off, man. Only the 'sucker' is gay, bro," Chas said.
"Plus we don't want Billy all covered with jism. He's gotta go back to class," Master Mike said.
"Fag!" Chas said to me, "You got 21 minutes till First Period ends. Get us all off before then!"
"Yessir, Master Chas," I said and crawled over to him.
"No, cuntface!" he said. "Suck Johnnie off forst--he's the horniest! Mike and I had ya last night. We can wait."
"Yeh, I guess I can wait," Master Mike said, stroking his beautiful, hard peter.
I hustled over to John and got down under his hairy nutsack with my tongue. I licked his balls and kissed his cockhead. 'God,' I thought, 'Can I fit that monster down my throat?'
"Fuck, man," John moaned, "That's incredible. Stephie won't lick my nuts and, hell, I've asked her to do it a zillion times. She says I 'smell yucky' down there!"
"Billy fuckin' loves jock cock and ball smell. I bet he'd lick our assholes if we asked him!" said Mike.
"Yeh, John," said Chas,"But fuck him hard, dude. We ain't got all day!"
John stood up, grabbed my head and slammed his huge pecker down my throat. Thrusting in and out, he long-dicked me! I thought I'd die--literally--I couldn't breathe! He humped my face till I saw stars! But he shot his boyjuice fast. Pulling out, he said, "That was wicked awesome, dudes!"
"Clean him up, whore," Chas said. "He can't go to class with jizz on his jeans. "JIZZ ON HIS JEANS!" Ain't that some kinda poetry?
I started to say, "That's alliteration!", but before I could tell him, John grabbed my head and stuck it back on his sagging organ. 'My Chas ain't no Carl Sandberg!' I thought.
Licking John clean, I looked up into his face to see if I was doin' O.K.. 'Fuck,' I thought, 'He's fuckin' gorgeous, too.' He had a power-lifter's body, but his face was almost delicate, with sparkling brown eyes, a jutting chin and perfect, white teeth. John needed only to bat those long lashes and the chicks (and me) came running!
Caging his monster, John smirked and pulled up his pants. "Thanks, slutboy," John said.
"Now, me, bitch," Chas said, guiding my mouth to gobble his dick. I licked and worshipped his prong, tonguing his piss shit. I knew he liked that. Then I gave it some serious sucking. Bobbing my head up and down, I sucked on his peter--loving it!
He, too, shot in a few minutes "Ohhhhh--oh--shit!" Chas screamed as he blew a load down my throat. "Man, Billy--you are 'fan-fuckin' tastic' at cocksuckin!. Ain't he, John?"
"Incredible, dude" John agreed.
I was so proud. My 'men' loved my talents. I could die a happy man!
"Lick the cum off him, boy," Mike commanded. "And get your peterlappin' mouth on Mr. Happy, here. He's fuckin' unhappy till you drain him!"
Hurridly cleaning Chas' peter and balls off, I crawled on my knees to Mike and scooped his already stiff dick into my 'pussymouth.' I lubed Mr. Happy with my spit, causing Mike to moan in ecstacy. Then, pulling Mr. H out to his fat mushroom head, he slammed him back down my throat to his pube hair.
"Take him, bitch," he said. "You faggot, cunt! You love for my hard cock to ream our whoreslut mouth. Suck it, twat!" (Mike always got verbally abusive when he fucked my mouth--but I loved it!)
"Yeh, cocksucker--I'm gonna fire!! FFUUCCCCKKKK!" he yelled, blasting gobs of goo down my throat, and, pulling out he shot the rest of his hot jism on my face and hair. Then, he spat in my face!
"You fuckin' love my juice, don't ya homo?" Mike asked. "Maybe tonight I'll let ya swallow my piss. Bet you'd fuckin' love that, too, bitch!"
John and Chas laughed uproariously as Mike continued, "C'mon, Billy. Clean off my dick and balls so I can get to class. C'mon, guys--let's all give the cunt some fuckin' loogies as a 'parting gift!-- Heh--heh--heh"
Chas and John, buttoning their jeans and tucking in their game jerseys, joined Mike in spitting in my face and hair
When they had tidied up, Chas said, "Man--fuckin' bell's late" and tossed me a dirty, mildewed towel off coach's floor. "Clean up, dude!"
"Gonna come over to my house tonight after the game to fuck the bitch?" Mike asked John and Chas. "She needs her virgin twat fucked. and I bet we could break 'her' in good!"
"Sure will, "John answered. "Get some brews and have a party! Fuckin' chicks don't always put out, but Billy will!"
My football studs laughed hard as the bell rang and they threw open the door, leaving me to clean up myself and get dressed. I was frantically wiping, buttoning and tying when Coach Zimmerman, with two JV players, entered the office. Coach sniffed and said, "Man--it smells like jism in here!"
The two JV players grinned, watching me exit the room with sticky 'mousse' in my hair.
TO BE CONTINUED