Hero Worship By Miles Long
Every town has one... he's the high school golden boy, the all-start athlete, who the whole town admires. Especially the youngsters who look up to him. In my hometown his name was Wayne, and he was an all-state receiver whose talent lifted our usually average football team to the state championship his senior year. He was also the pool lifeguard who taught me how to swim, creating a personal bond, at least in my eyes, and friendship.
Wayne was big and solid, about 6-4, 220 pounds. Despite his size he could also run like the wind. He was recruited by many football powerhouses and would up going to a nearby school with a solid program, where he started as a split end and was all-conference one year.
One year while he was at college I broke my ankle playing basketball on the playground, a nasty break that required some surgery and a couple of days in the hospital. The morning before I was discharged he walked through the door of my room. He was home for the weekend and hear about my hospitalization, and decided to visit. It was the thrill of my young life -- I was 8 or 9 at the time -- and I later wrote Wayne a combination thank you note and fan letter.
I didn't see Wayne for many years, but we ran into each other a couple of years ago at a wedding. He was now a successful businessman, still tall and muscular, tan and good looking. He had married and lived in a city a couple of hours away. We exchanged business cards and he invited me to be in touch if I every came that way so we could get together.
One thing he said as we chatted at the reception really blew me away. He had kept my letter in his locker for the remainder of his college career as a reminder of how kids looked up to him, and still had it in a box of college mementoes. It was a stunning revelation, that my young fan letter had meant something to my hero.
Last year I played in a benefit golf tournament with a guy who had played football with Wayne in college. As we rode in the cart he told stories of those glory days, and about Wayne. The picture he painted was a little different that what I had in my mind. "All the girls loved him," the teammate told me. "They used to be lined up after games and he'd take his pick, sometimes more than one. See, he had the biggest dick you'd ever seen, and of course the whole campus knew it."
Of course when I got in the car my head was spinning ... that my hero was also a horse-hung stud who fucked his way through college added another layer of interest in my day-dreams about him.
Some months after that, I was headed to the city where Wayne lives and decided to take him up on his offer to connect. I called and sure enough, he eagerly agreed to meet me for dinner after work on Friday. What's more, he offered to put me up in his house instead of me staying in a hotel. His wife would be out of town at her parents' home that weekend, he explained, and said he'd be glad for the company.
We met at a nice clubby steakhouse, Wayne still in his work suit and tie. It was great to have some one on one time with him, and hear his own stories of his high school and college exploits -- all on the field, unfortunately. Our age difference, about 9 or 10 years, was no longer a factor, and he treated me like an equal, a buddy from his hometown. At the end of the meal he paid the tab and invited me to follow him to his house.
Once at home he relaxed, loosening his tie and pouring us more wine. After a while I decided to take a long shot -- blame it on the wine -- and I mentioned running into his former teammate while playing in the golf tournament. He was delighted to hear about, and shrugged off my relating that his friend had called him a real ladies' man. "That was a long time ago," he said with a wry smile, shifting a little uncomfortably in his chair.
I realized I was staring at his crotch. He realized it too, but instead of jumping up and tossing me out the door, he did an amazing thing. He slow reaching down and started stroking his cock through his slacks. I froze in near-panic. Thankfully he made the next move.
Wayne stood and walked over to where I was sitting. He came very close, and even in the dim light I could see the outline of his dick pushing out the material of his pants. Before he changed his mind I reached out and touched it. It was large and warm, and slowly growing hard. Though I felt like I was about to pass out, I swiftly undid the clasp of his belt and unzipped his slacks. I reached in was withdrew his very large dick. It was at least 10 inches, but it was the girth that really amazed me. The head was wide and round, and crowned a thick muscle that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.
I took him into my mouth and he sighed. As I licked and sucked him I could imagine the countless number of women -- and apparently men -- who had been here before me. It was so large that it was a challenge to get a lot of it into my mouth, but I tried my best. I licked at the stalk jutting up from his pants, and at the huge vein on the underside. It was incredibly pleasurable working over this impressive cock. He pushed the head back into my mouth and, with one hand on my shoulder to steady himself, began to push his hips forward in slight movements. He was fucking my mouth.
I sucked as hard as I could for several minutes, and his huge cock began to expand to an extra large size. I could tell he was nearing an orgasm. "Is it okay if I cum in your mouth?" he asked. I nodded the affirmative, since I didn't want to break his rhythm. Just a few seconds later his dick exploded, shooting about five waves of cum down my throat. It was one of the great moments of my life.
When he had recovered he motioned for me to follow him into the back of the house. As he cleaned himself up with a wash cloth he told me about his bisexuality, about how so many guys wanted to see his dick, to touch it, to suck it and see if they could take it up their ass. I listened in wondrous silence. Wayne stripped his clothes off, and I admired his still-hard body. He looked as if he could play football at any moment. His cock was half-hard, still impressive. Then he turned to me and began undressing me. When he had me stripped he admired my own lengthy dick, which was standing at full attention. Then he really startled me. He took a knee and began to suck my cock.
I was dumbfounded. Here was my childhood hero pounding away on my cock like he wanted to return the favor and taste my load. It didn't take long to reward him, as I was so turned on I quickly floated over the edge and began emptying my balls down his throat. When I had stopped, he stood and smiled and handed me the same wash cloth.
We spent the next few hours rolling around his king-sized bed, sucking, kissing and touching. And one point he rolled me onto my back and took up a position between my legs. Holding them apart with his powerful thighs, he pushed that massive cockhead against my asshole. I waited to be ripped in half. But he was incredible gentle, working his well-lubed head into my ass, waiting for me to relax before pushing any father. Then he fucked me with slow strokes, his chest gleaming with sweat in the dim light. I swooned, but remember in a dream state him cumming again, this time more passionately. Later he again repaid the favor by crouching over my hard cock and pushing his ass down on it. My hero rode my cock until I bucked forward in another massive climax.
I awoke to Wayne licking my hard cock. In the shower he fed me his manhood again. I left for my meeting with his personal cell number and email address. We're planning on getting together again soon.
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