Homerun Stud Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)
DISCLAIMER: The following is for adults only. Contains graphic depictions of men having sex with men. Do not read if this bothers you.
The following is fiction and does not reflect on the actual persons portrayed, nor is it meant to. Also, the characters do not practice safe sex, but in the real world, take care or yourself and play safe
Thanks to all the great writers on the Net whose writings have given me something to strive toward. Thanks, too, to all the guys out there who have written in response to my stories. (My previous stories are listed in the Authors section of Nifty.) Even if I haven't had the chance to respond, I appreciate it. I plan on continuing on with Team Reward and wrapping up Parents Weekend, but until I get back in the groove and find the time, I'm posting a few shorter, get-off-quick stories. So unzip, enjoy, and let me know if you shoot a load to it. Comments to billdrake@hotmail.com.
Homerun Stud
The game still had another inning, but Barry Bonds wanted to get back the locker room early. He had a hunch someone would be there waiting for him. Still receiving congratulations from his teammates, he sauntered from the dugout and down the passageway toward the locker room.
Steve, the security guard, was standing at the door, his beefy legs slightly apart and hands behind his back, subtly showing off the major bulge packed into his tight polyester uniform. At 30, he stood medium height with a thick, muscular build. His Italian looks were accentuated with a dark-brown buzzcut that told of his military past. "How are you doing tonight Mr. Bonds?" he asked deferentially.
Barry smiled as he sized up this fine piece of rent-a-cop beef. Something about men in uniform always gave him a raging hardon and Steve in particular was prime fuckable meat. The star athlete came up to the guard and greeted him by grabbing the firm asscheek through the material of the uniform. "Hello, stud," he growled, "You've been teasing me with this hot ass all season. When are you going to let ole Barry put his bat right in between those fine cheeks of yours?"
The big lug broke out in a sweat as he felt the strong hand knead and caress his ass. It felt too good and he was worried that his cock would become obviously hard if Bonds kept up the attention. "You shouldn't kid around like that, Mr. Bonds," Steve said nervously. "I'm a married man, you know."
"Married...shit!" Bonds spat out. "I don't give a fuck if your pathetic cop ass if married or not. I'm married but it doesn't mean that I don't have enough cock to go around and to share with my buds. You are my bud, aren't you, cop?"
Now, Bonds' fingers were wedged in the tight crack of those perfect asscheeks, as the uniform's cloth dug in deeper into the cleft as Bonds pushed and stroked. As his fingers rubbed over where Steve's sphincter was, the security cop let out a hiss of air and arched his head back.
"Shit, bud," Bonds said, "not wearing anything under this uniform are you? I can feel your warm, wet pussy right through this flimsy pants you got on."
"No, I mean yes, sir. Wearing a jock for support." The athlete's finger traced the tight ring and pushed in slightly, denting the material further. "Ah shit," Steve yelled, "I can feel that."
"Yeah, stud, I know you can. I bet this ass would like to feel a lot more too. Like my big ten-inch piece of wood. Huh?"
"I...I don't think..." the guard stammered.
Bonds used his formidable athletic frame to pin the guard firmly against the cold brick wall. He reached down and squeezed the crotch of the security of uniform, finding a thick tube of hard dick. "You don't have to think, guy. Your dick's doing the thinking for you." He stroked the lengthening shaft in the pants, able to feel how it was trapped in the pouch of the jockstrap that lie beneath.
Urgently horny, Steve reached down and started to undo his pants, eager to free his trapped cock. Only Bonds grabbed his wrists and held them still. "Un-huh, man, keep that weapon sheathed until I'm good and ready for you. I wanna fuck you til you soil that jockstrap of yours. Only first I'm gonna get out of this uniform and shower. When I'm done you better be waiting for me."
"Yes, sir," the man meekishly replied, his gaze locked into Bonds' chocolate-colored eyes.
"Good boy," the athlete replied, squeezing Steve's hard cock once more before entering the locker room.
Bonds stripped off his uniform, throwing the clothing into the laundry pile. As he slipped off his own jockstrap, his dickmeat swung free, pulsing in the coolish air of the locker room. The cop wannabe had turned him on, and his cock throbbed almost at full length. It wasn't fully hard yet though and swayed in the air like a snake ready to strike.
He rounded the corner to his locker and saw a sight to stop in his tracks. Sitting there waiting for him was Mark McGwire. The baseball stud sat there in uniform, only without a shirt to hide his massive chest and thick spread of red fur. He didn't have the courage to speak first, a lump formed in his throat as he watched the powerful black athlete step up to him.
"Well what do we have here?" Bonds asked menacingly. "Maybe the big, bad McGwire can't handle being beaten by a better athlete so has to come whine about his broken pathetic record. Is that it?"
"No," McGwire said, "I just..."
Bonds interrupted him. "Nah, the fucker knows better. Knows when he's been beaten. Knows when a stud is bigger and badder than he is."
Bonds' powerful black hand grabbed McGwire's chin. He roughly gripped it and forced the baseball player's head up to look him directly in the eye. "Huh, fuckwad? Am I right?"
McGwire opened his mouth to respond but Bonds didn't let him. Slowly and deliberately his thick, strong index finger traced along the goatee and along the other athlete's full lips. Then he slipped it inside. Inside that hot wet mouth. McGwire didn't resist, just opened up his lips and began to suck in the digit. He tongued the invading finger, licking along its length as it plunged in and out.
"Yeah, McGwire wants to see how a real baseball player grips the bat, wants to examine the power in a real man's batting hand." Bonds removed his fingers and placed his palm then wrist on McGwire's mouth, which continued to lick and suck the tough, callused black flesh.
"Mmmh," McGwire moaned involuntarily.
"Fucking knew it," Barry growled. "Marky boy gets off on being used. Knows he's second best and won't be happy til he's worshipped and learned from the best."
"Yeah, stud," Mark murmured, overcome by lust now and attacking the batter's forearm now in full heat with his thick, hot tongue.
"Keep licking, boy. Feel that power. Feel those muscles with your tongue. Lick all the way up. Yeah, that's it. You're feeling it now. My big fucking bicep. My big muscle. That's how I'm creaming your white ass, McGwire. Showing you what a shit of an athlete you are. Think you're a stud cause you lift weights and can hit a few balls. You don't know shit. See what a stud's arm should be look. Yeah, taste it, boy." Bonds' dick now was throbbing and spitting gobs of fuckjuice out onto McGwire's chest and onto the concrete floor below.
Mark spoke in between licks. "Man, Bonds, you're such a hot stud. Fucking getting me hot, licking your big black muscles."
"Now for what you've really been after, boy!" Bonds pulled his arm away and grabbed McGwire's meaty shoulders. He pushed the stud athlete back down on the bench, stepped up and sunk ten-plus full inches of his hard pole down Mark's eager, hungry throat.
"Fuck!" he yelled, "your throat sure feels good. Can't believe I've waited so long to have you down there sucking my meat."
This facefuck was merciless. Each time, the black stallion pulled out his cocktip to the very edge of McGwire's lips, teasing them with the head's fullsize sponginess and treating the white boy's tongue to a good stream of pre-cum fuckjuice. Then, without warning, he'd spear that huge shaft straight into that wet mouth and deep into his throat.
McGwire was beside himself in head-spinning lust now. His hardon bulged and throbbed in his uniform pants, sweat beaded up on his torso, his back, his forehead, rolling down. His arms gripped Bonds' waist and taut ass cheeks as they powerfucked nearly a foot of hot athlete cock down his throat.
It was more than the homerun-hitting stud could take. His balls were pounding McGwire's unshaven chin and drew up suddenly to pump out jet after jet of ball batter into the servile baseball stud.
"Fuck, take this juice!" Bonds yelled as he held McGwire's head immobile and hosed his virile sperm deep into his new fuck buddy.
Bonds pulled out, slowly retrieving inch after inch of cock from the recesses of McGwire's gullet. He looked down to his obsidian rod, coated with thick spit and white sperm. Reaching down, he grabbed the hard staff and slapped McGwire's face, as the Cardinals slut tried to lap at the prick and get it back into his cocksucking mouth.
"Not yet, fuckwad. I wanna see what you have for Barry. Stand up!"
McGwuire complied. His pecs towered magnificently from the mass of his torso, revealing the hours of effort he's spent working out. Bonds reached forward and caressed the fur-coated muscle, kneading and pushing it around. Its mass was solid, firm. As Bonds' hands moved down the powerful torso, the flesh gave way more and the midsection was even pudgy a bit, though Bonds could feel the hard abs underneath the fur and fat. He grabbed the buttons of the uniform and undid the pants. He was greeted with the sight of a jockstrap holding a round cup.
Bonds hooked his thumb into the elastic waistband and pulled forward. With his other hand, he reached in and grabbed the plastic cup, removing it. McGwire's prick sprang up, growing almost immediately above the waistband of the jock. Bonds inspected the cup and saw that the interior was coated with clear liquid. "Mmmh," he said, "thought you'd be a leaker." Carefully, he held the cup up in front of his face and stuck out his long tongue and began lapping at the athlete nectar left behind.
"Shit, man," McGwire hissed, "lick my nut batter... ah, so fucking hot watching you, Barr"
When he'd licked the plastic clean, he tossed it aside and pushed McGwire against the locker. Roughly he gripped those big, hard biceps, that alabaster skin as he meshed his smooth torso against Mark's hard, reddened prick. With ease and determination, he worked his rippled abs over the other man's leaking, aching dick.
"Come on, bud," he urged, "Shoot you white jockboy cum all over my hard black body. "
McGwire was panting real heavy now and thrusting his horndog dick into the groove dividing the ridges of Barry's six-pack. "Goddamn, I'm creaming your abs, Barry, fucking shooting my seed."
"Let it loose, bud. Show this stud everything your balls got."
Within seconds, volleys of thick jock cream were coating Bonds' smooth skin and hard muscles. "Fuck, yeah," Mark breathed as he came down from the most intense orgasm of his life.
Bonds looked down at the sheet of fresh spooge coating his chest. McGwire might be a loser of a jock now, but the man sure shot a huge load. With his hand, Barry scooped up the thick white jism from his torso, gathering it in his hand. With a casual movement, he flicked his hand toward Mark, sending the slime flying onto the redhead's face.
"Um hum!" the two men heard. They turned their heads and standing in front of them was Hal Barrett, local TV sportscaster standing there with a camera man. "Mr. Bonds," he said, "I just wanted to ask you about..." he stopped when he saw who was there with Barry. "Fuck! Mark McGwire!" The Cardinals player was embarrassed by being discovered with his hard wet dick sticking out from his uniform pants having just nutted all over Bonds' hunky bod. But he was also pleased by the sportsman's obvious admiration.
And this guy wasn't bad looking, McGwire thought. Kept his body up and had the perfect combination of rugged, masculine looks with the attractiveness necessary of TV presenters. He thought how hot it would be to pull down those wool trousers and fuck the daylights out of his upturned ass.
Bonds interrupted the two men's mutual admiration. "Pleased to meet you," he said and offered his hand still coated in McGwire's cum.
Hal stood in disbelief. "Fuck, is that your cum, man?" he asked Bonds.
"Nah, it's Marky's here." With that, as if for emphasis, he slapped McGwire's hard ass, sending a smacking sound reverberating through the locker room. Roughly, his fingers dug into McGwire's cleft and wriggled around the hole, which tightened up in resistance.
The sportscaster looked at the wetness coating his hand and couldn't resist. He brought it up to his mouth and began licking it off, savoring the taste of fresh McGwire spew. "Man, this stuff's incredible." He lapped greedily trying to get every drop.
"I'm sure Marky here will be happy to give you more. That right, Marky?" Bonds' fingers now pushed their way past the tight rosebud and began feeling along the click rectal walls.
"Ungh!" Mark grunted, but then he tried to regain his composure so this TV reporter wouldn't know he was being fingerfucked by the stud athlete who'd broken his record. "Sure thing, bud," he said to the reporter. "Got plenty of cream still in these big balls of mine."
Bonds now was thrusting two thick fingers in and out at a regular pace, rubbing that butt nut over and over and getting McGwire not only hard but leaking. With his left hand he reached down below Mark's hard, wet dick and grabbed onto the two hairy nuts that hung tight to the meaty shaft. He grabbed and tugged gently at the scrotum.
"Yessir," he said, "big and swollen and full of cream. Like these nuts, man? Like looking at McGwire's big nuts?"
"Yes, sir," the sports anchor croaked. His cameraman was now horny but didn't dare take his hands off the camera or his eyes off the viewfinder. He wanted to capture every second of this hot scene.
Bonds traced his powerful black fingers up the hard shaft and grabbed it in a firm grasp. He paused briefly then began a slow motion up and down with his fist. "What about this cock, guy? I bet you like this big major-league baseball bat, huh? Hard and leaking, all ready to shoot."
"Looks hot, man," Hal said.
Bonds now was working the burly athlete in his arms from both ends. Plugging his sensitive ass from behind with one hand while his other hand was frigging Mark's cock til it was ready to burst.
Mark gave no warning. All of a sudden his prick surged and his sperm spouted forth in a huge gush, splattering all over the sportscaster's suit. As soon as it died down another gush came out, as Mark's balls emptied themselves of all their jock batter.
When he was done shooting, Bonds smiled and removed his hands. He walked up to Hal and wrapped his left arm around the man as his right hand rested on his mouth. "Thought you'd want a taste," he said then slid his wet fingers into the guy's mouth. The man closed his lips around the rough hand as he sucked every flavor of McGwire butt that he could.
"Fuck boy, enough. Time for you to get a taste of the source, anyway. I would stay to watch, but I made some promises to a certain security guard, so I gotta keep them."
As he walked toward the lockerroom door he heard the sound of McGwire's cunt getting stuffed with horny reported cock. He smiled knowing that one day soon he'd hear that sound again, along with "Fuck me, Bonds!" He savored the thought as he opened the door to see a frustrated, horny security guard waiting for a rough, cuntpounding fuck.