Intolerable Cruelty

Hello there. Thanks for tuning in... To provide some explanation, this story used to be called step-by-step, and was in its fifth or eighth chapter depending on where you were reading it. After some revision, and a change in the tenor of the story, I decided a name change was deserved. So, this section contains the first eight revised chapters of step-by-step, and the new ninth chapter will be posted just after it.

On the whole with this story, I'm trying for a little more character depth and a better story arc. It will take a while to tease all of this out. I beg your patience, gentle reader. Please send comments to matthew_lake@yahoo.com

I've always liked guys, since as far back as I can remember. It was never anything more or less than that, for me. Growing up with incredibly liberal, professional, and often absent parents, I never really came out, I was just who I was, and my parents were very cool about my attraction to men from the moment it manifested itself.

While my home life was one thing; school was another. Not that I walked the hallways of school in fear or shame. It was a big school, and I was far from being a freak, far from really being a target at all. In a lot of ways, I was a shadow. A good student, involved in the newspaper, I honestly didn't draw much attention in my A&F shirts and Gap jeans.

I'm really pretty average, for a 16 year-old. Brown hair, cut short and combed forward. Clear skin-I drink a LOT of water-a slight tan, and brown eyes. I weigh about 140 and stand about 5'11". I'm cute and fit, but without exceptional athletic or academic talent. In fact, I'd been struggling for a peer group connection and stronger personal identity for some time, when Mr. Rutland pulled me aside as my trig class was coming to an end.

"Lake," he said, standing up from his desk as the rest of my class filed out. He put a hand through his short blonde hair, and moistened his red lips with the tip of his tongue, their shiny surface framed by a small goatee. Even standing, he was a few inches shorter than me, but in an instant, he was by my side, close. I could smell traces of Eternity on his clothes or skin. "I have a proposition for you. Something I want you to think about. I need something...something special that I think might be a perfect fit for you."

I started to breathe a little faster, as I looked down his face at his tan neck, the collar of his shirt, unbuttoned, flashing, teasing, a few tempting strands of blonde hair peeking out, inviting me in. His khakis, tight around his waist, a hand on his hip, resting as the curve of his back became the fullness of his tight, firm... "So, what do you think," he asked, his smile flashing white teeth between moist lips. As he turned towards his desk, the only thing I could think about was his tight pants, a thought which made my pants tight as well.

"Here's the practice schedule. I think you'd be a great equipment manager, and you'd get to practice and travel with the team."

I reached for the paper, and felt his hand on my shoulder. "I'll give it some thought," I said, unsure what else to say. His hand burned into my flesh, I was sure he must be able to feel the blood coursing through me. I could feel my pulse strong in my chest, in my cock. I wanted to bask in his attention, but I didn't know how to extend the conversation. "Can I let you know tomorrow?"

"Of course. Of course. Tomorrow is fine." His hand on my shoulder gently guided me towards the door. "Let me know if you have any questions, and don't forget the matrix problems due tomorrow, too." He smiled again; I mirrored him. It seemed a long moment, but it was not. Then I was out the door, watching him walk back to the desk as it clicked shut behind me. He sat down at his desk, and popped back up on his way to the back of the classroom. Mr. Rutland was always moving, always active.

I lost sight of him and turned to walk towards my locker. Kids were brushing past me quickly, and I realized I was just about out of time to get to my next class. I skipped the trip to my locker and headed right to my composition class.

"So, the season starts next Wednesday. You can get equipment distributed and set up during eighth period so that the team can get started right away when school is over." Mr. Rutland was leading me towards the track team's locker rooms. It was a pleasure to walk behind him. After I had accepted the position in class, we had agreed to meet during last period so that he could show me the ropes of my new manager position. He had changed sometime after our class into a pair of softball shorts and a Rancho Carne Toros Track muscle shirt. The neck that had teased and tempted yesterday, now rippled tan over strong knots of muscles. I could visually trace veins under his skin to cut biceps and powerful arms, just lightly dusted with hair. Powerful legs sprouted from a firm ass, as the cotton nylon stretched from hip to hip. Only by planning ahead and wearing my loosest jeans and tightest briefs was I able to keep my boner under wraps.

We arrived in the athletic complex, and Mr. Rutland pulled a keychain clipped on his waist, unlocking a door labeled "Men's Track." I followed him through a tiled hallway. Before us were rows of lockers and benches on the left, Mr. Rutland pointed to them. "This is where the team changes. Toilets and showers are in the back corner. My office and the equipment cage are over here by the exit to the track." Mr. Rutland continued to "orient" me to my task, but I was only barely keeping it together.

In his office, he opened his top desk drawer, and pulled out a lanyard attached to a ring of four or five keys. "I'm giving you keys to the locker room, the equipment cage, my office and the field shed, which we'll get to next," he explained as he crossed the distance between us. He was right in front of me, reaching up towards my neck. He settled the keys on my shoulders and I could feel the cold of them through the thin material of my shirt; my nipples hardened immediately as goosebumps covered my skin.

"Thank you, Mr. Rutland. I'm really excited to get started," I said. His eyes bored into mine, and his hands settled on my upper chest. He pushed me back, slowly, so that I was pressed against the wall, but the distance between us remained constant. I couldn't look away from his eyes. Time seemed to stop.

And then I felt his mouth on mine. A soft brushing of his lips, moist against mine, the whisper of his breath, the brush of his goatee. His head was tilted up and to the side. He nuzzled me, pushing in again. His body was closer now, and his smell was strong, erotic and powerful. I felt his tongue on my lips now, and I opened my mouth slightly, he probed inside and pushed past my teeth, and then he was probing my mouth.

My skin was on fire, as I unleashed my passion. I felt for him, finding his hip and pulled him into me. He rotated his hips into mine, grinding his hard cock against mine. The friction was intense. I was sucking on his tongue, his lip, and then moving down his neck to his shoulder. He continued to hump into me and I felt his hand on my chest then my neck. He was grinding harder into me, and I was sandwiched between him and the wall. His fingers traced my jaw, my lips, and I began to suck hard on two of them.

He nibbled at my ear, blowing, and then I heard him whisper, "and there's one more thing you'll be responsible for taking care of." He was panting, breathing hard and still kissing and sucking my neck and ear. I sucked his fingers harder, and my hand found his nipple under his shirt. "I want you to suck my cock. Do you think you can do that?" He pulled his fingers from my mouth, trailing them wetly across my neck, and his hands found my shoulders at the same time. He pushed me down, and I slid against the wall with a moan.

His smell, which had been hot and strong, intensified as my face became level with his crotch. He pushed the sides of his shorts down, and I pulled them to mid-thigh. And then just the thin elastic fabric of his jock pouch separated my mouth from his hard cock. His hand was on the back of my head now, and he pushed himself into my face, rubbing, humping against me. My hands clutched the waistband of his jock, and I started to pull it down over his hard cock. The band was tight, and I was having a bit of trouble getting it off.

"There's a better way," he said, his hand leaving my head, pulling aside the jock pouch so that his cock and balls spilled out the side. As soon as his dick was free, the head was at my lips, and I welcomed it into my mouth. He was cut and almost fully hard. I sucked on the head as he slid a few inches in and out of my mouth. I couldn't see anything but a Bike Medium label and the treasure trail on Mr. Rutland's stomach, so I closed my eyes to savor his flavor, the feeling of his cock in my mouth, the scent of sweat and soap. My brain was exploding with sensation, and I was in heaven.

I felt Mr. Rultand's hand on my own, as he wrapped my fingers around the shaft of his exposed cock. I continued to suck as we jacked his shaft together, and then I was jacking it alone, as he moved his hand to the back of my head. "This is excellent, Lake...So fucking hot...I knew you would suck cock like a champion...Yeah...Take that dick...Take my hot fucking equipment into your hot wet cage..." Mr. Rutland's voice was calming and exciting, and I was able to take a little more of his cock. With my fist jacking on the outside, I was able to take about four inches of his shaft, just to the back of my throat before he pulled out with his hips and pushed in, my tongue swirling back and forth across the head and the underside of his shaft.

My own cock was straining against my jeans, throbbing powerfully, almost painfully. "Take a little more...open up that throat, and let me in...come on, bitch..." Mr Rutland was thrusting more powerfully now, pushing more deeply into my mouth and throat, and I felt myself gagging on his cock, on my saliva, but he was relentless. "You can take it...you can do it...don't let yourself choke, just open your throat like a good cocksucker...I'm gonna give you my cum...just a few more minutes..."

I reached up to feel his balls pulled tightly against his body, the blonde hair on them scraped across my fingertips, and his pounding became more erratic with long thrusts, then short thrusts, and then he was grunting hard. I knew he was coming, so I sucked harder, my tired tongue inspired to lick faster, tracing circles on his cock.

"Here it comes...take it...take my cream," he grunted and I felt his first spurt on my tongue, followed almost immediately by a second spraying against the back of my throat. His hot cum mixed with my saliva, as he continued to whitewash my mouth...

"Lake. LAKE." My vision came into focus, and he was standing there before me. What had happened? Shit...I had drifted off.

"I'm sorry, I was just trying to remember everything you've been telling me," I lied, wondering how long I had been out.

Rutland clapped me on the shoulder. "No problem. This will help. He stepped back to the desk and leaned over to reach into the bottom drawer. The fabric cupped his ass tightly so that I could see the straps of his jock. His muscle shirt stretched across his broad back. He turned around with a clipboard. "I've got it all right here. Now let's go," and he headed towards the door to the outside.

I took a deep breath, exhaled and followed him.

So, getting that job as track equipment manager was the beginning, I guess, of my first ongoing sexual relationship. No, my first time wasn't with Mr. Rutland, although I would've done him right there (or anywhere), given the chance. You have probably noticed that I have a vivid imagination. My grandfather always told me in my youth that if you commit a sin in your mind, it's as bad as committing the sin itself. If that's the case, I know I'm headed right for hell, because I imagine myself giving head or getting fucked all the time. I walk around in a perpetual state of arousal and have become a master at hiding my bone. On some level, the only reason I'm not a slut may be that I'm pretty shy-okay, a total wallflower. But even though I didn't know it, everything was about to change for me.

I swear I tried to be discreet. His name was Mark, and he was the most beautiful guy I had ever seen. He was a hurtler and threw discus in the wrestling off-season. Compact and muscled, he stood no taller than me. He kept his hair short, blonde tips and dark roots, a square jaw, and a perfect V from broad shoulders to slim hips. I tried very hard to make sure I was in the cage when Mark approached his locker. I would be arranging this or that, stacking the blocks, something that allowed me to keep on eye as Mark stripped down and stalked off to the shower.

Perhaps pranced is more accurate. Mark loved the attention of his peers as their eyes jealously followed him through his routine. He took his time, toweling off, sharing a laugh, fixing his hair, telling a story, applying deodorant, completely immodest in his glory. His skin glowed, his eyes danced and his cock and balls were alive in their nest of thick, dark pubes, as he spoke animatedly with teammates here and there. Pulling on his pants was the last thing he did; he never wore underwear under there. Perhaps he had once, but they all got swiped. It was impossible to know, but it heightened my attraction to him knowing there was one thin layer of cotton between my mouth and his basket.

I was always particularly attentive to the area around his locker when collecting towels and cleaning up the locker room after practice. It was my hope that Mark would carelessly leave his jock behind, perhaps with a note detailing his deeply hidden love for me, and asking him to give me a call. My heart would leap as my stomach clenched. Would I call or leave a return note? Either method was a gamble. Of course, the jock was never there, and the question went unanswered.

Of course, Mark wasn't the only hot guy in the locker room, but he was clearly the alpha male, and that heightened my attraction to him. But I enjoyed the parade of fine young bodies around me each day. With this constant stream of material, I jacked off all the time, before and after school, before bed, sometimes between classes in the bathroom.

It was about three weeks into the season and I was sitting on a bench during my lunch hour. I had a Diet Coke by my side, and the remains of an unsatisfying lunch.

"You mind?" inquired Jamie, a sophomore and shot putter likely more well known for his contributions as a tight-end on the football team. I shook my head and moved my stuff over to make room for his. "Dude. You watch him at lunch, too?" Jamie laughed.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, a little more defensively than I had intended. Jamie nodded in the direction of Mark who was sitting on the lawn across the quad, surrounded by a group of five or six guys and girls. I hadn't really been watching them, to be honest, although it may not have been coincidental that I chose this spot to eat lunch. "Oh, that."

"He knows you like him." Jamie said plainly. He wasn't judging, he was just stating. "I heard him talking about it, once. Said you were his biggest fan. I don't think he meant anything by it, though," Jamie added quickly. He took a bite of his sandwich, a swig of his OJ. It was a warm day, and I could see sweat on his brow. A droplet ran down his cheek, his neck, and finally disappeared into the jersey he was wearing. I could see his tan shoulder through the blue jersey mesh. "You guys ever...." He let the question hang between us.

"No," I said quickly. He looked over at me.

"I didn't expect so. Mark and Ann have gone out as long as I can remember. He's a real straight arrow." Jamie stood up and walked to a nearby trashcan and returned almost immediately. His movement was fluid under loose clothes, but I knew there was a lot of power there. Jamie rarely came in second, even in practice. "You'd do him though, if you had the chance, wouldn't you?" Jamie asked.

I looked at him again. "In a minute!" I said enthusiastically, and we both laughed. Jamie's openness was new to me, as we had never really had a significant conversation before. "But we both know that's not going to happen." Mark and his crowd slowly got up and wandered towards Campus East.

"Well," Jamie said, "I'll tell you this. I may like chicks myself, but if there was a guy who wanted to swing on my stick, he would have both the time and opportunity, man. I wouldn't let anything stand between me and some regular head." Jamie laughed again. "Nothin'." I smiled at him, as the bell rang. I couldn't believe what I heard him saying. I couldn't speak. I just sat there and smiled at him like an idiot. He hopped to his feet and grabbed his backpack, pulling it over one shoulder and then the other. He winked. "You'll see me at practice, Lake. Later." And he was off heading towards Campus North. I watched him walk away from me. He didn't look back, and I was still watching the sidewalk when the warning bell rang, snapping me out of it.

"Fuck!" I said out loud, startling a hot cheerleader passing in front of me. I had to get to sixth period, and had some distance to cover. I grabbed my backpack and raced from the bench in the direction of trig.

I was putting the starting blocks away in the equipment cage when I heard the door swing open and closed. The cage was semi-private. Anyone could really see in through the links and hanging equipment, but it was located kind of out of the way, so that players rarely just happened by. Jamie was standing there smiling when I turned around. His hair was damp, and a few beads of water still clung to his shoulders, dripping down his dark chest and collecting at his waist where a bright white towel clung tight to his hips.

"I told you you'd see me at practice today, didn't I?" he flashed me a shy smile and took a step closer.

"Yeah. And here we are." I smiled back. "Ummm."

"Hey. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything. I mean," he shifted his weight to his other foot, "I mean, do you know what I was saying at lunch?"

"Yeah. I figured it out. I'm kinda thick sometimes. So..." He interrupted me.

"I just thought maybe you'd want to see the merchandise, before you made up your mind." With that, he reached for his waist and held the towel open. It wasn't the first time I had seen Jamie naked; it probably wasn't the fifteenth time I'd seen him naked. But never one-on-one, openly and with permission. I did what any self-respecting 16-year-old homo would do. I checked him out. A little hair around his nipples disappeared and then re-formed around his navel, trailing down past his tan line to a nice bush of brown short and curlies bunched against his pale skin. His dick looked about half-mast, maybe 6 inches and hanging at a 45 degree angle over nice balls. The head was thick, and I could see the dark scar just below it formed by his circumcision. "I hope you think it's a nice one. I think it's bigger than most. You can touch it if you want."

I looked nervously out of the cage. My mind was warring between wanting to touch it, and wanting not to be caught touching it by any of the guys on the team. I compromised by quickly wrapping my fingers around it and giving a little tug, a handshake of sorts. It was hot and thick in my hand. Jamie giggled uncharacteristically. I looked from his crotch to his eyes. "Well?" he said.

"It's really nice, Jamie," I replied, letting it go. He replaced the towel. My adrenaline was really pumping. I think I was harder than usual. I didn't answer, so much as heard the words leave my mouth. "I want to do it. Let's do it." He turned and started to walk out of the cage.

"I'll be ready to go in fifteen minutes. Meet me in the parking lot." And then he was gone. I hadn't realized he had a car, but it sounded great to me. My heart was pounding in my chest. I didn't take time to collect towels that night. I could make up an excuse later if Coach Rutland asked about it. I was in the parking lot 10 minutes later, waiting almost impatiently for what was to be my first sexual experience. I spent my time waiting thinking about all of the techniques I had read about in the nifty archive and hoping that my gag reflex would be relatively easy to control. I had been using my toothbrush for some time now to practice control. I hoped that my practice would pay off. I didn't want to fuck this up.

Jamie's car turned out to be a truck. A black Ford F150 with tinted windows, complete with a calvin-pissing-on-chevy cling. Jamie was all smiles as we climbed in and he turned the ignition. The vibration from the engine almost sent me over the edge. In minutes, Jamie was pulling the truck onto a side street, and then into an empty, fenced parking lot.

"This is one of my dad's warehouses," he explained. "It's not one he's using right now. We should be private here." He turned off the Ford, and turned towards me a little, putting an arm on the back seat, and resting the other one on the steering wheel. I took the opening and reached for his waistband. I could feel his hard cock pressing up through his pants under the ball of my hand. I pressed down, and was rewarded with a moan.

Pulling aside the flaps of his pants, and tugging down a little, his cock and balls were free to the air. His flesh on my fingers was like electricity as I again wrapped my hand around his shaft. I jacked once, twice and watched a pearl of pre form on his piss slit. The cock was nice, just under eight inches now, and still thick in my fist. I looked up to his face, where he was watching me intently.

"This is so fucking cool," he said encouragingly. "Are you ready to go down on my fuck stick? Come on," he said with a little thrust of his hips. "Take it." And I did. I licked at the head, with a wet sloppy kiss. Jamie moaned above me. His smell was more soap than musk, an indication of his recent shower. I kissed again, and then took the head in my mouth, sucking hard as I pulled off. Another moan. And then I went down a little farther, sucking off hard again. My hand was wrapped around the shaft resting on Jamie's balls, and my other hand held his shirt up. I rubbed his stomach gently, feeling his pubes on my thumb as I began taking his cock more quickly.

"Oh my fucking god. So fucking hot," Jamie said, panting now, just minutes into this blow job. "Your mouth is so hot. Suck my cock. Oh God. Oh God." I was licking and sucking with a steady rhythm now, about seven minutes into giving him head when I realized that the point of no return had passed about a half-minute back. With no warning, Jamie shot his load right into my mouth. He pushed my head down hard, holding it as he spurt again and again. I licked gently at his shaft with my tongue, swallowing some of his cum, letting some slide out of my mouth down his shaft. With a shuddering breath, he let go of my head, resting his hand on my shoulder. I slid up and let his cock out of my mouth.

"Thank you so much. That was so good. You were so good." His breathing was coming back to normal. The taste of him was good. I licked at his shaft and captured some of the cream I had lost. It was not bitter, not what I expected from what I had read. I found his cream salty and savory. He pulled me up by the shoulder and looked at me. "Are you okay? Did you...um...like it? I'm sorry I didn't last longer...you were just so good..." he was babbling now.

"I liked it a lot," I said and looked directly into his eyes and he stopped talking. "I loved it. I want to do it again. Every day." I smiled, and he smiled right back at me.

"I'm so glad." His eyes darted towards my crotch. "Did you...er...do you want to..."

"I'm fine...it's always hard anyway, actually." My hand was still rubbing his stomach in little circles. "Do you want to do it again?"

"Fuck," he said, looking at the clock. "I want to, but I can't. I gotta get home. It's 6:30, dude!" I pulled away from him, and he slid his pants up, snapping and zipping them. He turned on the car, and turned back towards the wheel. We pulled out, and he said. "Where do you live? I'll drop you off."

"I need to get my bike...can you drop me back off at school?" His neck was still a little flushed.

"Sure. We'll throw it in the back." Turns out we only lived a few blocks apart. Before I knew it, we were pulling into my driveway. As I turned to open the door, Jamie pulled my hand to his crotch setting it firmly on his cock. I could feel it was hard again.

"God, I wish you could take it right now," he said.

"Me too."

"So, can we study tomorrow night?" he asked, stressing the word study. Jamie and I took none of the same classes.

"I'll find out if my folks have anything planned, but I'm guessing yes." I smiled at him and hopped out, grabbing my bike. I headed into the garage as he pulled out of the driveway. It was seven o'clock and neither of my parents had yet made it home. I called for a pizza and headed upstairs to jack off.

The next night found me on my knees in front of Jamie who was reclining in his black desk chair. I had pulled Jamie's boxers down before he sat down, and as I felt up his thighs with my hands, his cock grew hard, lifting from its resting position on his nutsack, rising to rest against his stomach and then standing straight out from his crotch in a matter of seconds.

"I haven't touched it since yesterday, except to take a piss, Lake. This is going to be excellent." He met my eyes, and then pulled off his shirt, reclining his head on the back of the chair, smiling widely. I glanced quickly at Jamie's bedroom door, recalling the sound of the lock clicking when we had walked in. Jamie had a small suite on the second floor of the house. We were in Jamie's rec room, which attached to his bedroom and an attached bathroom, and from there the walk-in closet. Jamie had explained that his brother had something like it, and so did his parents, only theirs had a deck and hot tub.

I took the root of his cock in my hand, and began to lick the head like an ice cream cone. Four or eight long licks later, I sat back and just looked at the beautiful pink cock that I was jacking slowly. My hand just closed around it at the base, and it was consistently thick, root to head. I could see and feel the ridges of his cock made by the veins that caused his cock to throb in my hand. I leaned forward holding his dick with two hands, just the head poking out the top. I licked the head, and then blew warm air over it. And again, eliciting a shudder from the man before me.

And then I really started in sucking the head deeply into my mouth, as I jacked the shaft with my hand. Jamie's taste was wonderful, and he started to leak pre into my mouth. I pulled off and dug my tongue deeply into his piss slit, drilling for his sweet nectar. "Fuck yeah...yeah...suck my cock...oh my god...suck it. You suck so good." Jamie's hand found the back of my head, twisting in my hair as I slurped up and down his hard shaft.

And then I was licking from head to root, kissing and sucking at his shaft as I moved down to tongue at his hairy nuts. Little flicks of my tongue on each orb until they were thoroughly wet, followed by hot breath and then more gentle flicks. And then I was kissing and sucking at his thighs before his hand pulled me back to my focus. His cock was in my mouth again, wet and sloppy, I rubbed it against my face, my lips, my cheeks, my eyes before engulfing it again.

And through all of this, Jamie had kept up a steady stream of hot encouragement. It was when he stopped that I looked up to find him looking down at me, very satisfied. I continued to stroke him, faster, then slower, then faster as he held my gaze, caressing my neck and cheek with his hand.

"Why don't you jerk off while you suck me, dude? It won't bother me. And honestly, I'd feel a little better if it didn't seem so much like I was just using you." I could see by his face that he was just being straight with me. He winked, looking meaningfully back at his dick, and I could feel his hand pushing my head back down to work, which I immediately took back up with a slurp.

At that point, I did unsnap my chinos and begin to stroke myself gently within them, keeping the other hand firmly around Jamie's cock. Sucking him was heaven, and I worked to get more of his cock into my mouth, each time gagging a little and having to pull off. The fourth time, as tears were streaming down my face and I was catching my breath, Jamie said, "There'll be time for that, later, Lake. You're doing so great. So fucking hot. Just lick and suck me...don't go deep. Yeah, like that," he added as I swirled my tongue around his head, tasting a trickle of pre. I was disappointed in myself that I wasn't able to take him all the way, even though this was only my second blow job.

"I'm ready to cum, man. You've really got me on the edge, now." Jamie was excited. I took my hand from my own cock and began to massage his nuts as I jacked and sucked him. I could tell he was drawing closer. "Oh yeah. Oh fuck yeah," and then he came with a groan. I was nibbling just under the head of his cock at the time, and his first spurt shut up and landed on my cheek and hand before I capped his cock with my mouth and took the second shot, the third and fourth. I could feel his jizz sliding down my face. I moved my hand from his balls to his belly, and felt the muscles contracting as his orgasm continued.

I let Jamie's cock slip from my hand as I licked up the remnants of his shot from his pubes and my fingers. I wiped my cheek and licked my hand before planting a few final kisses on Jamie's smaller, but still full cock, his bush, his belly. I rested my head there for a moment, as he came down from his high, gently kissing his navel. I moved my hand to my own crotch to find that I had shot, too, without even touching myself. For the first time in a long time, I found my cock had softened.

I sat back, looked at Jamie, still reclined and relaxing, smiling widely, and then stood up.

Jamie followed suit. "That's was hot. Really fucking hot," he said clapping me on the shoulder. He grabbed his boxers off the floor and slipped them on, adjusting his cock in them and following with a pair of Umbros. "Did you come?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. It was nice."

"Yeah. It was really fucking nice," he smiled. "Snap your pants and let's get some food." I followed him downstairs to the kitchen. "You like PB&J?" he asked, pulling a jar of Peter Pan from the cabinet.

"Sounds great," I said and he handed me the bread and a knife.

"I'll get the jelly. Don't use too much peanut butter," he said as he leaned down in front of the fridge. Oh, that ass. I vowed that I would get a good feel of that before I left tonight. He joined me at the counter and started adding jelly. He put the sandwiches on a plate, grabbed some juice boxes and chips, and we headed back upstairs. We spent the next two hours playing Halo on Jamie's X-Box and having a great time. I hadn't laughed so much in forever, and I learned a lot about Jamie while we played.

His mom had died nine years ago, and his dad had remarried pretty quickly. His step-mom had a son a few years older than Jamie, who still lived at home. They were pretty well-off, and Jamie loved football more than just about anything. As I looked around, it was apparent. Posters of NFL players were everywhere. I didn't really recognize most of them, but the headline was clear.

Before I knew it, we were pushing ten thirty, and I knew I had better head home soon. I said as much, and Jamie frowned. "That sucks, man. Before you go...do you think you can...I mean, once more?" He was so sweet and innocent as he asked. Of course, I agreed, and pretty quickly, I was sucking down another load of Jamie's spunk.

He walked me to the door, and as I got on my bike, he explained that he already had plans for this weekend, a family wedding up north. I understood that it meant the next time I would see him was Monday at practice. He told me with a wink that he might need to see me over lunch on Monday, and that I'd hear from him. I waved and rode off, realizing how much I was going to miss what I had only just come to know.

I spent the weekend in a pretty typical way for me. I slept late, surfed the net, played X-Box and PS2, shot some hoops in my driveway, jacked off about a thousand times, took a run and then a shower. My mom took me shopping to compensate for the long hours she worked, and I spent more than I should have on clothes and necessities. We caught a movie and dinner while we were out. Dad was away on business in Montreal.

The deal is, I don't have a lot of close friends. Maybe it's because we moved here just a couple of years ago, or maybe it's just because I'm really introverted. It's hard to say. Sure, I hang with a few other kids, now and then, and when I'm around people, I am witty and fun, but none of those acquaintances has translated into close friendship. Which doesn't leave me a sobbing heap, or anything like that. I'll be in college in a few years, anyway. But what I'm getting at is that as much as I liked sucking Jamie off, I enjoyed hanging out with him as much. When he wasn't throwing his fuck into me, it was like we were friends. He was really cool with me, talking about guy stuff-football, chicks he wanted to bone, Halo, Smallville-and never making me feel low about taking dick. Let's just say that Monday couldn't come quick enough. I was eager to chill with Jamie again.

I was on my way to homeroom Monday morning when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Jamie smiling at me. He fell in beside me. "Dude. You have a good weekend?" he asked. I confirmed that I had, and he said the wedding sucked. We laughed and agreed that they typically do. "They didn't even have a DJ," he scoffed. Jamie was wearing a Patriots cap and an Old Navy shirt that clung in all the right places. He unconsciously scratched at his waistline, flashing skin and the band of his boxers over the waistline of a pair of cargo shorts.

We came to a crossing hallway, and Jamie pointed left indicating that our paths were about to split. "Meet me on the Quad for lunch," he said.

"If I make it through Bio," I said, scowling. He sucker punched my shoulder and headed off to join a group of three other football players heading in the same direction as I made a right.

Mark was standing just down the hallway, close to a blonde girl wearing Express and too much mascara. He wasn't facing me, and I slowed a little to appreciate the swell of his ass curving from the small of his back. His rugby shirt was tucked into pressed khakis, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss his neck where a hint of the gold chain he wore around his neck glittered against tan skin. Some people are just too beautiful for this world.

I fantasized the morning away thinking about the amazing head I was going to give Jamie during our lunch break. When the bell rang, I skipped my locker and headed straight for the bench we had met at last. I was impatient now, really wanting to get down on some cock. If I closed my eyes, I could remember his intoxicating smell, as if my face was inches from the front of his pants.

"Dude," he said, as I felt him sit down beside me. "Are you asleep?" he laughed. I opened my eyes with a smile to see Jamie sitting on the ground in front of me, and an African-American guy next to me, chuckling with him. "Lake, this is Zac. He's a cornerback. We have fourth period, and he decided to tag along with me for lunch." Zac extended his hand, and I shook it, as we exchanged greetings.

I kept smiling, although I was confused. I wasn't sure why Jamie had brought this other guy to lunch. They had each pulled out a paper sack, and I was at a loss. I had really expected to be heading somewhere private for a high protein infusion.

"Yeah," I said. "I forgot to pack anything this morning. Sometimes I can be a real dumb-ass," I said in my best self-deprecating tone.

"Man," said Zac, "it happens to everyone. When I'm running out the door to get here before first bell, lunch is the last thing on my mind. Sometimes I'm surprised I remember pants." We all laughed.

"You can have one of mine," said Jamie tossing me a plastic bag containing a sandwich. "My mom always packs me too much anyway." I thanked him.

Although I was a bit self-conscious throughout lunch, the conversation was pretty standard. Jamie and Zac were clearly good friends, having been on the team for two years together, and we talked about the usual stuff. Jamie explained that I could hold my own on the X-Box, and Zac said we'd see about that. Zac told a joke he had heard, and we talked about a fire alarm that had taken place in Campus Central this morning.

As we talked, I slowly took my time checking Zac out. His skin was the color of maple syrup. He was taller than I was, maybe 6'2" or 6'3" and his head was all but shaved. He was sturdy, and built, with thick thighs and strong calves. He had on Tommy shorts, and a gap v-neck t-shirt that revealed a smooth chest and stretched across well-developed pecs. His shorts were too loose to make any determination about what he was packing, but I wasn't sure I cared so much about the size of the cock as the man it was attached to. Before I knew it, Jamie was telling me he'd see me after practice, and Zac was shaking my hand again. They walked off, leaving me on the bench trying to determine the significance of what had happened.

I was sitting in Jamie's truck as we pulled out of the parking lot. He was still dressed in track pants and a Toro's Track XXL muscle shirt. He had been the last to come in after practice, and I convinced him that he could shower at his house. He laughed when I suggested he didn't have to. The smell of him after practice was strong, and my mouth watered as I thought of what lie ahead. We were headed for his house, and this time I was sure that giving him head was on the agenda. But I was still unsure about Zac, and wanted some answers.

"Zac seems nice," I offered.

"Yeah," responded Jamie, "he's one of my good friends." He looked over at me and our eyes met. I tried to read him, but I didn't know him well enough yet. "I wanted you guys to meet. I thought you'd get along." He looked back to the road as we pulled away from the intersection through the green light.

"I think so," I confirmed. "Umm." Time passed. I wasn't sure what I wanted to ask or even what I wanted to know.

"Hello?! What were you going to say?"

"Nothing," I responded. I was still unsure.

"Dude. Spit it out," Jamie said flatly. He laughed. "One thing you'll learn about me is I like people to be straight with me. If you have something to say, just say it."

"Well, I don't know that I can ever be straight with you," I said, eliciting another laugh, "But I wasn't sure if you'd told Zac anything about what we did."

"No." he said quickly. "No, it's nothing to do with that." He paused, and I waited. "Look. I'll level with you. I love that you suck my dick. And I don't regret that I got this thing started. But it's our thing." He looked at me, then back at the road. "I wouldn't compromise that without asking you. I mean, we're not boyfriends, 'cause I'm not gay. But I am alive, and if you like giving head, and I like getting head, then we're both winners, I guess."

I sighed, relieved. I hadn't realized how much this had been weighing on me. "Thanks. I just wanted to make sure."

"At the same time," Jamie went on, "we have had fun just hanging out once I've blown a load or two. So, I thought I'd introduce you to Zac, 'cause he's cool, too. Maybe we can catch a movie sometime, or go three way with Halo on the net." He drove for a block or two, and we reached his house. "'Course if you want to blow him, I don't know that he'd mind." We both laughed. "Now let's get upstairs and get this show on the road. I'm ready for some serious mouthwork." And with that, we were climbing out of the truck.

We headed to Jamie's room through the garage and kitchen, where Jamie grabbed two Cokes from the fridge. The big screen was on in the family room as we walked through, tuned to some reality dating show. Sprawled on the couch was Jamie's step-brother Anthony, or so I assumed, from the little Jamie had talked about him. The room was dark as afternoon had faded into evening. Flashes of light from the screen fell across the room, revealing Anthony in pieces, like a puzzle. Worn Nikes. Baggy, three-quarter length shorts. Short, dark hair, and piercing eyes. Thick fingers curled around the neck of an MGD bottle. In the seconds it took for Jamie to wave acknowledgement, and for me to follow him up the stairs, I had only begun to put the pieces of Anthony's puzzle together. The depth I felt behind those eyes intrigued me.

Jamie had cracked his coke in the hallway, and handed me mine. I set it on his desk unopened, as he pulled his wife beater over broad shoulders, tossing it to the floor near his closet, taking another long drink, and following it with a sustained belch.

"Good one," he said proudly, kicking off a shoe. The other followed almost immediately, and he finished the coke. The can almost missed his garbage, teetering on the edge for a moment, before falling in.

"Now that's talent. You sure you don't play basketball, too," I responded, as he pulled off one sock, then the other. He playfully flipped me the bird.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower. You lock the door."

"Hold on the shower and come here," I said, directing him to the desk. "I locked it on the way in." I took his nipple in my mouth, feeling it harden against the pressure of my tongue, tasting the salt on his skin, "and I like the way you taste," I whispered, "and the way you smell," I added, lifting his arm above his head, and edging into his armpit. My other hand traced down his side, coming to rest on the hard mound in his jock. I could tell he liked what I was doing. I began to lap more vigorously. This was really turning me on.

"Are you sure you don't want me to clean up? It seems kinda gross," he said, verbalizing reluctance his body was betraying. I stopped and blew coolly over his skin. A chill ran through him. I rubbed his hardened nipple, tweaking it gently.

"You seem to like what I'm doing," I said, squeezing his hard shaft with my other hand, stroking gently through the fabric. "And it's really turning me on. You are so," and I quickly licked at his pit before adding, "so fucking hot. I love your cum and I love your sweat." I kissed the nipple I wasn't teasing. "But if you'd like," I started, taking the nipple in my mouth and savoring the little ridges that lifted up as his nipple hardened, "I can stop," I sucked harder and gave a nip, "and you can go shower."

I looked up at Jamie. His face was a mask of pleasure capped with an amused smirk. "No...keep going," he said as he lifted his other arm. I dove in, tasting his sweat, and licking him clean. I swirled my tongue through the hairs in his armpit, feeling them feather across my lips.

With a final lick across his nipple, I grabbed Jamie by the waistband of his shorts and pushed him back towards his desk chair. I pulled down his shorts, as I dropped to my knees. He sat down, his cock still concealed under the mesh of his jock. A few hairs poked through the mesh and I felt him up with both hands. I leaned close and breathed deeply. The sweat of the day and his workout and the worn nylon of the pouch combined to create a patchwork of scents that almost sent me over the edge. I nuzzled against Jamie, flickering my tongue in the space where thigh meets leg.

"Oh my god, dude," Jamie moaned. "You've gotta get your mouth on my cock or I'm gonna explode." I felt Jamie's hands on mine, as he pulled the band of his worn jock down, hooking it under his balls. I kissed my way through his bush as I pulled the waistband over his ass, and the jock off completely. Free of this last impediment, Jamie threw a leg over the arm of his chair, opening his crotch to me.

I dove down on his hard cock, sucking it into my mouth, a little too vigorously. My eyes watered, and I pulled off, licking at the silky smooth skin of Jamie's cockhead as my throat recovered. I rubbed his thighs with my hands as I took his cock shallowly into my mouth, creating a seal and beginning to hoover gently back and forth.

"Fucking amazing. Oh please, keep that up...I love your fucking mouth," Jamie groaned. I could hear Jamie manipulating his mouse with his right hand, as the left rested on my shoulder, fingers tracing circles. His eyes, glassed over with pleasure, stared towards his computer screen. I pulled off his cock momentarily to take note of the pictures flashing across his computer screen in sequence. Guys throwing their fucks into women I could only occasionally identify as beautiful. I jacked him for a minute, before his hand prompted my return to the object of my lust, a hard throbbing shaft of cock.

Jacking the shaft. I began to lick with earnest at the very base of the cockhead on the bottom of the penis, the most sensitive spot I had found on Jamie so far. I quickly had Jamie breathing faster, clicking faster, moaning with near abandon. I felt his balls begin to draw up, and released his shaft from my hand and mouth.

Again tracing his thighs with my hands, I began to tease and lick at Jamie's balls. The taste of him intensified for me, as I slowly drew his sack from its tight perch against the base of his shaft into a more relaxed state. I gave each ball its own tongue bath, ever so gently sucking them into my mouth before releasing them back to the air.

When Jamie was no longer on the edge of his orgasm, I began my assault on his cockhead again. I was taking significant pleasure in working Jamie close to the edge of his orgasm without bringing him off. As I sucked him close for a second time, I began to jack my own hard cock. Holding his dick steady, I traced the thick vein that ran under his shaft from root to head.

"I'm so close...get ready," said Jamie, and I released him immediately to kiss and lick at the fine hairs that connected his navel to his bush, again denying his cock the friction required to bring on his orgasm. "Please make me cum," begged Jamie. "Suck my cock some more...lick it nice...and let me shoot this load of jizz in your mouth. I know you want it as much as I do." I frenched Jamie's navel as I tweaked his nipples again. He moaned.

My jaw was getting a little tired, and Jamie's almost continual moans with interspersed whimpers were wearing down my resolve. "I need to cum...I need to cum really bad," Jamie said, rolling his head from side to side. And with that, I renewed jacking and sucking his shaft at the same time. Almost as soon as I started, he came, and he came in buckets. Jamie's muttering was incoherent as his hips thrust his cock up into my mouth and hand. I stopped counting after his seventh full shot, pulling his cock from my full mouth as he continued to rain cum across my chin and down the front of my shirt.

I licked his cock clean, gently on his sensitive head, and wiped my chin of his cum. Jamie's body rocked in post-orgasmic bliss. His torso was flushed from his belly to his neck, and his fingers curled in my hair, refusing to release me until he was completely finished.

As he came down, I would occasion his thigh, his balls, his bush with a kiss, a lick, a nip, each time savoring the smell of him. I knew I never wanted him to shower immediately after practice again if we were headed home to take care of business, so to speak. And then, his eyes fluttered open, and the hand that had gripped my head so tightly ruffled my hair.

"Words can't express how fucking great that was." He was animated, his eyes brimming with life. "You are turning into the king of head. And I'm so glad you've got me to practice on." He laughed and I smiled. Jamie stood before me, a picture of innocence in search of pleasure. I tried to capture the image of youthful virility in my mind. His hair was mussed, and he targeted me with a killer smile. His dick rested casually against his balls, lingering traces of my saliva glinting in the light. "I'm gonna shower, and then we're gonna scare us up some grub," he said in an awful western accent. He looked down to my still-hard cock in my shorts. "Why don't you jack off while I'm in there," and he turned, walking towards the bedroom.

I admired his powerful legs, and his firm, full ass as he made his way out. I thought to myself that football players have the most incredible butts. With that thought firmly planted in my mind, I lay back on the carpet, freed my own dick from my shorts and was shooting on the third stroke. My cum joined Jamie's on my shirt as my own body rocked, muscles contracting. After a few minutes, I sat up, then stood. I pulled off my shirt, wadding it up into a ball as I turned on Jamie's television and his X-Box.

I snapped my shorts and tossed in Buffy. I was holding my own against the big bad when Jamie walked out of his bedroom in sweat shorts and a t-shirt and started playfully roughing me up on the couch, and ruining my ability to concentrate on the game with a titty twister. I died almost immediately, and Jamie switched off the screen with the remote.

"Motherfucker," I shouted in jest. "That was not fair."

He laughed. "It may not have been fair," he said as he picked up the shorts, shirt and jock he had worn home, "but I'm massively hungry. Let's head out for some Taco Bell."

I was agreeable to that suggestion. I followed him to the bedroom. He threw his work out clothes into the hamper and tossed me a t-shirt from a drawer nearby. "I'm sorry I jizzed all over your shirt. Here's a loaner." He looked a little sheepish, and I slipped his shirt over my head. It was one size too large, and hung a little awkwardly, but it served its purpose. "But it's your fault for making me cum so hard. If anything's not fair. It's you making me wait for that. You're a cock tease." And with that, he grabbed me in a headlock and knuckled my head.

We were both laughing and carrying on. Jamie grabbed his car keys and wallet, and led me out the door of his room.

It wasn't long before we were sharing a booth at a nearly empty Taco Bell. I watched Jamie's strong jaw work as he devoured a soft-shell taco. The few freckles scattered around his eyes and across his nose were dancing as we talked and laughed about school and the track team, and the first away meet of the season that was coming up quickly. And then Jamie was hopping up to refill both of our cups at the soda machine.

"So, was that your brother?" I asked as he slid back into the booth. He unwrapped a hard taco and nodded.

"Yeah. That was Anthony, and he's my step brother," Jamie clarified. "I'm surprised he was home, actually. My dad had said he had a new construction job. But it may not have lasted. It's hard to say. Anthony has a tough time staying employed." I nodded.

"I'm an only child," I said just to add to the conversation. I knew Jamie knew this.

"You're lucky," Jamie said very seriously. "Anthony's always fucking up. My dad was going to send him to college, but he didn't make the grades to go. Then, he got this girl pregnant about a year-and-a-half ago. She didn't have the baby, but dad was pissed as hell about the whole situation. He almost threw Anthony out of the house right then and there. Dad says Anthony doesn't take any responsibility...that he needs to grow up and be a man. But he's my step mom's baby, and she won't let it happen." I was entranced by the drama in Jamie's family. "So, he still lives at home and works when he can. He and dad get into yelling matches all the time. It seriously sucks, man!" I could tell it was hard for Jamie to reveal all of this, and suddenly felt very close to him.

"No doubt," I responded. "How old is Anthony?"

"He's twenty. We're three years apart." Jamie shook his head. "I think that Dad would have hired him into the business if he had gone to college. That was when things first started to go bad between Dad and Anthony. It's only gotten worse since then. Dad is an independent contractor," he added as an aside. "That's what I'm going to do. Study construction management in college and then work with my dad afterwards. I want to go to CSUN. We've already visited the campus. Lots of hot babes at CSUN, man." Jamie smiled across the table as the mood cleared a little. "So, that's my story. What about you? When did you know you were gay?"

"I guess I've always known," I said. "I just like guys the way you like girls." I finished the last bite of my chalupa, crumpling the paper and tossing it on the tray we shared. "My parents have always been cool about it."

"That's good, at least," Jamie encouraged.

"Yeah. When I first talked to my mom about it I was 14. All of a sudden, she was telling me about this girl she had dated in college, and trying to relate to me." I stressed the word relate. "It was really creepy on some level," I said, and Jamie laughed at me. "To think of my mom with another girl. That's disgusting!" I batted a balled up taco paper across the table hitting Jamie squarely in the chest. He hit it back at me, it went wide and fell onto the seat beside me.

"You're funny," he said. "I like the way you think. You make me laugh. But, I still can't believe sometimes that you like doing it...sucking my dick I mean," he said the last part more quietly. "It's awesome," he laughed, "don't get me wrong. But it really doesn't gross you out?"

"Jamie, I love it. I love every second I'm on my knees in front of you," I leaned closer, my voice low. "I can't get enough of you. Your smell and taste. You've got a great body, and I love what we do." I smiled sheepishly and paused. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah. What?"

"Do you really think I'm good at it? I mean, you're the only one I've ever done it to...so..." my voice trailed off, and I looked at Jamie's hands twisting a straw paper on top of the table. A few dark strands of hair grew out of each knuckle. His wrists were thick, and the veins in his arm stood out in a ridge across his skin.

"Honestly, all head is good head. But the head you give me is incredible." Jamie paused. "Look at me," he said, his eyes capturing mine as I raised my head. "Seriously, you're a star." He grinned and I smiled.

"But I can't go down all the way, and everything I read says I should. That it's really good when you can take it all the way," I said, still unsure.

"Matt." I think it was the first time I had ever heard Jamie use my first name. "You've gotta understand. I'm a little bigger than some other guys. That and it takes practice." He sipped from his straw. "Like you said, I'm the first guy you've ever done. And what you've done is whoa whoa whoa." I smiled at Jamie's goofy impression of Joey Lawrence, then laughed. "You already take more of it than the three girls I've gotten to do it. They never much got past the head" He continued on. "If you wanna take it all the way, we can get there. In fact, you can start practicing as soon as I get you back to my house." He looked at his watch. "It's only eight o-clock, and I don't have to have you home 'til midnight. And all this talk of you blowing me has made me throw a rod." I realized I had a hard-on, too, as it suddenly stretched all too uncomfortably at the pouch of my shorts.

As we walked into Jamie's house, he grabbed my bicep and pulled me into a room I had never been in. Two walls were covered in mohagony bookcases and a large desk dominated the space in front of an imposing fireplace. Two leather wingtip chairs against the final wall inclined towards one another under a reproduction of Monet's Water Lilies. The space was masculine and hard and smelled of cigar smoke.

As we crossed the threshold of the room, I could see a man in pressed grey pants and a white shirt leaning over the desk studying a set of blueprints. He drew himself upright and turned towards us. "Hey, Dad," Jamie said, walking towards him. They gripped hands and then fell into a one-armed hug for a moment.

"Good to see you, James," the man said. "And who is this?" he indicated as he gestured in my direction.

"This is my friend, Matt Lake," Jamie replied. I stepped towards Jamie's dad, and he took my hand in a very firm shake.

"Nice to meet you, Matt," he said, releasing my hand.

"Thank you, Sir. Nice to meet you, as well." I took in his youthful features, his full head of hair and eyes that he clearly passed on to his son. They sparkled with the same light as Jamie's above a strong smile and a red tie striped with grey. His shirt was fitted, and I could see that he worked out as the material stretched across developed pecs. The two of them looked more like brothers than father and son.

"We're pretty proud of this one," he said, indicating Jamie. "He's a real good kid. Quite an athlete, but I'm sure you know that. Named first team all state two years in a row. A sophomore even. Rakes in the honors." He gestured toward the wall left of his door. It was covered with pictures of Jamie at various ages and in various sports uniforms interspersed with plaques and certificates. "He won't hang them in his room, so I keep them all right there." He beamed, clapped a blushing Jamie on the shoulder.

"Enough, dad. Lake knows all about that. He's equipment manager for the track team. So you can stop, already." I was amused by and sympathetic to Jamie's embarrassment at the same time. Parents can be so lame. Jamie continued to address his father. "Can I have some cash. I need to get an oil change and some gas."

"Of course you do," teased his father. "It's always something isn't it." He reached into his back pocket and produced a wallet. He fanned through some bills, pulling out two fifties and handing them to Jamie. He looked at me. "You'd think he was a magician the way he makes money disappear." I smiled at his joke, and Jamie responded with a whatever. "And I suppose you'll need some money for a date this weekend?" He pulled two more from the wallet and passed those to Jamie, as well. As he slipped the wallet back into his pocket, the phone on his desk started to ring shrilly.

"Sure do. Thanks, Dad," Jamie said, smiling broadly at the extra windfall. "You rock!"

"I gotta get that, kids," he responded, indicating the phone. "You two keep out of trouble." He was turning away to take the call, as Jamie led me out of the office and towards the stairs to his room.

Jamie followed me into his rec room, and locked the door behind us. I continued on through the bedroom and into the bathroom. "I'll be right out," I hollered as the door closed behind me.

"Don't take too long," was Jamie's reply through the door. "I need servicin' now," and he reverted to a bad southern twang. It wasn't a few minutes before I heard the familiar strains of Dave Matthews, and a few more before I swung the door open and strode back into the room, having taken care of business.

Jamie was on the floor, his toes wedged under the edge of the dresser in mid sit-up. He continued the crunch, looking over his shoulder and smiling at me before finishing five more and dropping back onto the soft carpet. He lay there for a moment, eyes closed, chest rising and falling, his knees bent, the soft mass of his cock and balls resting on a bed of brown curls between smooth thighs.

When he spoke, his voice took me by surprise, startling me from what had become a trance. "This will go better, I think, if you get out of those clothes." Jamie's eyes opened, and then he almost rolled into a crouch before standing up in one long motion. He crossed the space between us and pulled up on my t-shirt. "Dude. Naked. Now. I want my cock in that throat like we talked about." As he spoke, his hand traced under my shirt, across the bare skin of my chest, rough fingers against my nipple coming to rest on my neck. "It's time."

He turned towards the bed, and I was racing to tear my clothes off. I could feel my heartbeat in every part of my body, especially my cock. I dropped to my knees on top of my discarded clothes and started to crawl towards Jamie just as he turned.

"No, not on your knees this time. If you're going to take it all, I need you here, on the bed." He patted his bed. "Lay here on your back." I stood up and started towards the bed. "Wait a minute...I think this might be a first for us, Lake. Let's see what you got there." I was almost to the bed when he grabbed my bicep, stopping me where I stood. "You see. You always see me naked, but never the other way around." He spun me slowly, and I began to blush a little. "Nice definition in your chest, Lake." He let go of my arm, and I continued to spin. "And that ass looks absolutely fuckable." He slapped it playfully. "Maybe we'll work up to that, eh." By that time, I was facing him again.

I sputtered a little bit before producing, "I'm not sure that..." which was all I could say before he interrupted me.

"I'm just kidding, Lake," he laughed. "I'm not gonna fuck your ass." His eyes were playful, and he pointed to the bed. I lay down on it, and heard him add, "Not tonight, anyway" under his breath. "Your head towards me, Lake," he instructed. He reached towards me, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me to the edge of the bed, my head just hanging over, looking right up into his crotch, eye to eye with the cock I had come to know and love. He stepped back. "Yeah. This is perfect. Give me your hands."

I reached my hands above my head, and Jamie guided them to his hips, stepping towards me a little, his hands on top of mine. My eyes were just between his thighs. I could see his plump cock dangling out over his hairy balls, and the crack of his ass behind them, hairs curling out here and there. Jamie smelled of soap and sweat. He was flexing his legs, squatting just a little, and I moved my head up slightly and kissed his balls.

"That's a good idea, Lake. You lick my balls while I tell you what we're going to do. He settled himself down on me a little more, his nuts resting gently on my lips, the hairs on them tickling just a little. I lapped at his sack a little, then sucked a ball into my mouth. Jamie squeezed my hands a little and moaned. "You could fucking do that all night, Lake. That feels great."

His hips rocked back and forth just a little as he began to coach me through the coming steps. "Alright. You're really getting my cock hard right now. And once it's ready, I'm going to go ahead and start to pump your mouth. Now you do what you've always done, which is give me fantastic head. The only difference is that the way you're laying means your mouth and throat are all lined up for my dick." I was listening and licking at the same time. "And when you feel ready, you give my hips a little pull, and I'm going to pop right in and out. You go ahead and swallow me down when you feel that, and it will help you not to choke. If you feel like you need or want me to stop, go ahead and give my hips a little push, and I'll pull out."

I licked at his balls for a few more minutes before he pulled back a little, his nuts brushing across my nose and eyes, resting on my forehead as I opened my mouth for his cockhead. It was an odd angle to get used to at first, and while I understood the mechanics that Jamie had explained, I found that I got confused when I concentrated too much. I put the logistics out of my mind as Jamie's dick pressed between my lips and began to do what came naturally now, covering my teeth, swirling my tongue. My initial licks and nibbles elicited a moan from somewhere deep inside Jamie.

He was very patient with me, following my lead, thrusting until I indicated a pull back, keeping his speed down. With him in physical control of the situation, I had to depend on the trust that we had developed between us, and I felt confident that he would not exceed my ability to take him. As I worked to focus on his cock, I was constantly distracted by his balls brushing my face, or the concentrated smell of him right over my nose. And then I felt his hand on my left pec, caressing my nipple, a wet finger circling, pinching, me flinching, then sighing. Again, then the other. His cock deeper, then gone. Then both of his hands were rubbing my chest. "You are doing great, Lake. You've taken over half. Not much more to go now. My cock feels so incredible in your mouth. I hope I can hold off, man." Jamie's baritone was another distraction, glorious and welcome. His moans were operatic, a cocksucking serenade.

And as I felt his cock penetrate deeper into my mouth, the overwhelming input from senses functioning independently rather than in tune, made me much less attentive to guiding Jamie's hips myself. Jamie's hands had never been on me this way before. As his hips rocked above my head, in and out at a steady rhythm, sometimes a little deeper, sometimes less, he continued to feel my pecs, hard nipples pulled by eager fingers. His hands explored down my flat stomach, brushing against my bush and finding their way back up my sides. I felt like electric current was running through my body.

Jamie was leaning over me now, still thrusting, his balls moving out of my field of vision, and his ass spread out before me, a cycle repeating, repeating, repeating. His stance, legs spread, bent over as he felt my body parted the mounds of his firm ass, allowing a few more hairs to curl out. His skin was clear and tight, muscles tense. I could see sweat sheening the skin of his back and behind when he stood up to regain his balance. The head of his cock was regularly coming into contact with the back of my throat now, although my awareness of it was only occasional.

My hands, still on his hips, slid back to cup his wonderful ass cheeks, gentle caresses moving in time with his thrusting. His slick skin moistened the palms of my hands as two of my fingers traced the line of his crack from his back to his balls. The sparse hairs tickled my fingertips, and when my index finger drew across his rosebud, Jamie gasped and paused to groan before continuing his thrusting. "Yeah. Feel my hot fucking ass. Powerful engine fucking your cocksucking throat. Oh, god, you always make me feel so good, Lake."

My hands stayed on his ass as his cock drilled my mouth and his hands caressed my chest. For a moment, I was floating above, watching Jamie's back and ass like a machine above me. And then it was Coach Rutland fucking me, his voice, his grunts in my ears. And then Zac's powerful thrusts. Followed by Mark's incredible beauty. And Anthony's rough power. I was lost in a fantasy, taking pipe from all these very different, beautiful, masculine men.

And then Jamie pulled his cock out and set his balls back on my lips. "This is fucking incredible, Lake. You've almost taken it all. I could feel your throat. So fucking tight. Just another inch or so to go." Hands on my shoulders, he pulled me a little off to the side, and settled a calf on the bed beside my head, realigning me with his body, with his cock. I hadn't realized he was in my throat at all. Had I completely disassociated with the experience? My lips nibbled at his balls, licked at the drawn up, tight orbs, teasing them to relaxation. "It's time. I hope you're ready, 'cause I can't take much more without blowing this major load." And then his beautiful cock was once again in my mouth.

Jamie's new stance put him closer to my body. I could feel the heat of his chest nearer mine, and as his thrusting became more insistent, I felt his hand first on my thigh, and then curling around the shaft of my cock. His cock was in my throat now, irritating just a little as I felt myself close up on his shaft and him moan above me. I just let it happen, breathing as I could, as Jamie made it possible. I heard him spit on his hand and my dick, and his slick fingers began to work my shaft. And then his pubes were scraping my chin. I gagged once as he paused momentarily, resting completely inside me, but I was able to resist gagging again. His hand was getting me close, and I couldn't resist moaning myself, around his thick cock.

Jamie withdrew and started long-dicking me. Tip to base with each thrust. His hand on my cock, his scent and taste drugging me, his ass my only view of the world, and his moaning and nonsense encouragement, "Fuck. God. Yes. Oh. Fuck. So hot. So fucking hot," punctuated by my slurps and breathing. Jamie's fuck was consuming all of my sensory inputs, and I had never been so hot in my life. I couldn't hold back. For the first time, I shot before Jamie; for the first time, I shot in Jamie's presence. I gave him no warning, save the contractions in my abs, before hot jets of my cum were shooting. And seconds later, Jamie shot too. In my throat, in my mouth, I swallowed what I could as Jamie pumped his load into me. And then he released my cock and stood upright, resting his cock in my mouth for a minute or so before pulling out and standing completely up before me. I leaned my head up and kissed the tip of it, then his balls.

Feeling my own chest and stomach, I was surprised to find only a little bit of my own jizz. Twisting around and sitting up, I saw why. Jamie's chest and abs were covered in my juice. It mingled with his own sweat.

"Sorry, guy," I said with a nod towards the mess I had made.

"Fuck, Lake. Do you always come like that? About knocked me off the fucking bed. But I'll tell you. I can live with it if you continue to give me head like that. I've never felt anything that compares." I smiled. "Fucking-A. Now lets go get a shower." He walked towards the bathroom as I sat on the edge of the bed. He stopped at the doorway. "I said let's get a shower. We're both disgusting, and you've gotta get home. Hop to it, man," and I did.

The next day was the same old routine of classes, and I didn't cross paths with Jamie during the day, but expected that I would see him at practice. I got to the locker room a little late, having had to forfeit my free period to consult with Ms. Towers about an upcoming bio assignment.

Taking a leisurely scan of the locker room on my way through to the equipment cage, I stopped to chat with a few team members whom I was getting to know as the season progressed. Although I was very satisfied with the amazing things Jamie and I were doing, I used the conversations to take note of lithe bodies surrounding me in various states of dress. Like any horny teen, I catalogued the smooth chests, plump cocks and firm asses around me. I did not see Jamie, and when I reached the equipment cage, Coach Rutland was a little agitated.

"Lake. What's the deal? I need you to get these blocks to the track now," he indicated with a wave of his hand. "You were supposed to be here a half-hour ago. And don't forget the batons today." He was brusque, and I wished I had been less social on my entrance.

"Sorry, Coach. I had to get some help with a bio assignment." He turned and looked at me impatiently.

"This isn't a new commitment, Lake. You know the ropes. You know your responsibilities. Half the team is already outside. I've got to get there, too, and so do you." I started tossing blocks into a canvas bag.

"Hey Coach. One more thing. I just wondered if you'd seen Jamie Gibson today, sir. I had a question I wanted to ask him." I added a couple of batons to the bag and cinched it up.

"Gibson has a doctor's appointment. He's out for the day." Rutland headed out of the cage. "Now hurry up, Lake. Once the blocks are set up, start getting the hurdles on the track."

I wasn't the last one out to the track, but almost. Once the blocks and hurdles were set up trackside, I filled the cooler with ice and water and set it out for the guys. Then I headed back inside to put out towels and clean up any messes left in the locker room. After starting a load of towels in the gigantic commercial washer, I folded those I had left in the dryer after practice the night before. Typically, I was able to get two loads washed and dried each day, which just kept up with the demand. During the wash cycle, I picked up some trash around the lockers and a stray shampoo bottle left behind in the communal shower. I discarded a razor left on the counter by the sink, and put two unmatched socks in the lost and found box.

I was folding a second load of towels and storing them when guys started back inside. That was my cue to head outside and collect the blocks. The hurdlers were kind enough to put those back on their own, today. Skipping that step, I dragged the cooler and blocks inside and situated them in the cage. I made sure there were enough towels remaining for the team members who hadn't showered. Tuesday I had to perform the equipment count, which basically meant making sure that none of the equipment was missing, and letting Coach know if any supplies, like detergent or dryer sheets, needed to be ordered. I grabbed the clipboard and started to make notes of my counts.

I heard a few guys call out good-bye as they left, and I returned their greetings. The showers had all been turned off, so I went to collect any extra towels and return them to the storage closet. I grabbed the cart of wet, used towels and wheeled it to the laundry room entrance. There were only two guys left, and both of them were done with their towels, so I collected those and added them to the cart. I moved the last load of towels from the washer to the dryer and set it to automatically turn off when the load was dry. Then I headed back to finish my counts.

I hadn't seen Coach Rutland since the beginning of practice. I wasn't sure if he was in a better mood, but I figured avoiding him was the best bet if I wanted to stay on his good side. While I hadn't really fucked up too badly, I was still bummed that I had disappointed him earlier. The last thing I had to do on my way out was drop off the count tally.

Coach's office was right across from the equipment cage, so I headed that way to grab the sheet and slide it under his door. When I got there, though, he was sitting at his desk, which was situated in the corner, looking over some papers; his back was to me. The office was spartan, with just one other chair against a wall to his left. A few motivational posters hung on the walls, but the glare from the overhead lights made them difficult to read. A small radio on the desktop was tuned to a local hip-hop station, and he tapped his foot to the beat. Rutland had on the quintessential Coach's black polyester stretch shorts, a t-shirt from an AIDS run tucked into them. A lanyard with a whistle hung around his neck, and the hair above the strap was still damp with sweat from practice.

I hesitated at the door, wishing there was a way I could avoid him. Seeing the impossibility of that, I knocked gently on the door frame. Coach Rutland swiveled his chair around and smiled.

"Hey, Lake. Come on in." He motioned to the chair, and I felt obligated to sit down. I smiled back, but I didn't feel it.

"Thanks, Coach." I reached to him as I sat down, handing him the count sheet. He took it and set it on the desk alongside the others he had been perusing. Aside from a lamp, the only other thing on his desk was a picture of him and a very attractive blonde. She was standing in front of him, his arms wrapped loosely around her middle in a hug, her arms set atop his. She had very large breasts and incredibly white teeth, and I noticed that the colors of their clothes were coordinated.

Rutland saw me scanning the photo and looked over at it, too. "That's Rebecca. She's my fiance. We're getting married this summer." He smiled at me.

"Congratulations." I didn't know what else to say. "She's very pretty." As soon as I said it, I realized just how stupid it sounded. I could feel a blush creeping up my face.

"I think so, too," said Rutland. Sensing my embarrassment, he changed the subject. "Sorry I was a little rough on you earlier." He looked at the desk, and then connected with my eyes again. "Your homework is important, too. Instead of yelling, I should have just reminded you to be attentive to the details. The little things are important, Lake. For instance," he gestured to his desk, "I'm working on travel arrangements and rooming assignments for the away meet we're heading to the weekend after next. Now, I've noticed that you and Gibson seem to be friendly lately, so I've decided to room you two together. Hilbert and Rodriguez, not so much. You see, it's all in the details."

The fake smile I had set in place turned real as the implication of what he had just said washed over me. I'd been assigned to room with Jamie on our away meet. I couldn't believe the luck!

"You're right, Coach. I'm sorry for being late. I'll make it up tomorrow." I was elated, not even sure what I was saying. I had to get out of there and let Jamie know the good news. "Is it okay if I leave for the night? Everything is done and ready for tomorrow."

"Sure, Lake. Are you the last one to go?" Coach asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay. Can you get the lights on your way out. I'm gonna hop in the shower here before I go." He gestured to a tiled alcove in the office I hadn't really taken notice of before. "Can you drop a towel by my door on your way out, too?" Rutland stood up, crossed his arms to his hips and pulled his shirt off in one double-handed move. The smell of his sweat overwhelmed the small space, and I felt my cock start to harden. The chest I had imagined many times was right before me. Dark blonde hairs curled around Coach's nipples and pecs right down onto his stomach before disappearing into the high waistband of his shorts. He tossed the shirt beside the desk and turned his back to me as I stood up from my chair. His back was chiseled and golden, smooth with just a dusting of freckles across his shoulders.

"Sure thing." I said as I backed out the door and reluctantly turned towards the hallway and laundry room. I heard the door close behind me. In the laundry room, I grabbed a towel, only to notice that the supplies of detergent were dangerously low. There was no way our supply would make it another week. And I hadn't indicated that any needed to be ordered on my count sheet.

"Fuck," I said as I hit the shelf with the bottom of my fist. Just when the coach had a talk with me about attending to details, I had to omit this important one from the count sheet. I decided the only way to rectify my mistake was to slip into Rutland's office while he was in the shower and make the change. I hurried back through the locker room, turning out lights. The door to Rutland's office was closed, and when I gently tried the knob, it was locked. The light was on, and I could hear the shower. I fished out my key ring, and used the office key for the first time ever.

With the opening of the door, the sound of falling water became much louder, and a wave of warm, humid air swept past me. I crept in, heart pounding, looking to the tile as I almost scampered to the desk. Quietly, I set down the towel and grabbed for a pen, scrawling a request for more detergent in my notes. As I replaced the pen in the small cup at the top of the desk, I noticed that Coach had thrown his shorts and jock onto the pile he had begun with his shirt. I couldn't believe it.

I was terrified of getting caught, but overwhelmed by the possibility of checking out the discarded jock sitting just a few feet to my right. The water from the shower was still cascading steadily on the tile, and I could hear Coach humming along with the radio that continued to play in the background. Lust beat out reason, and I moved quietly towards the jock, squatting down to pull the tangled strap from the pile of clothes.

I looked toward the shower area as my hand closed around the most masculine and intimate item of apparel a man can own. I could just see slightly into the double shower around the corner, and a patch of thigh indicated that Coach's back was to me. I quickly looked down at the mesh and elastic that I was holding in my trembling hand. It was damp and I could see a few hairs curling out of the pouch. My brain was screaming that I needed to get out now. I pushed that impulse down as I pulled the pouch to my face, inhaling as I looked back towards the shower. Coach was standing right under the spray of water, letting it run down his face and neck, over his muscular shoulders and arms, down the curve of his back to the mounds of his ass. The dark blonde hair, thick on Coach Rutland's powerful thighs and calves seemed almost brown as the water plastered it to his body.

I began to lick at the sweaty jock pouch, the scent of Rutland consuming me. My cock was hard and throbbing in my pants. He pumped the shampoo dispenser on the wall and began to lather his hair. Leaving the product in, he reached for the soap and began to work a lather in his hands, bringing the bar to his neck, then spending time on his chest and stomach before moving down to his crotch. I was in a trance, only able to move in the instant that I realized Coach was turning towards me. My attempt to move sideways was awkward as muscles held in a crouch too long decided not to cooperate. I ended up falling to hands and knees in full view of the shower, the jockstrap still in my tight grip.

As I looked up, ready to see the anger and disgust on Coach's face, I saw only his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his hands working the considerable lather that had built up in his crotch. I backed off my hands and knees quietly, and what had seemed like incredibly thorough soaping began to take on the familiar motions of jerking off. As Coach worked his hand back and forth on his rapidly hardening cock, suds and lather began to fly this way and that, revealing more and more of his masculine beauty. I was hypnotized by his movements, the long strokes of his left hand from the base of his cock to the root while his right hand massaged his nuts.

Coach's knees were bent, and he was leaning backwards a little, hips making little thrusts into his hand. He moved his right hand from his balls across his chest, pinching his nipple and then trailing down his side. And then it was behind him. He continued to thrust while his other hand searched his backside, I could only imagine tracing his crack and digging between his cheeks to tease his sensitive ass.

As the rate of Rutland's breathing increased, so did mine through the mesh of the jock pouch, which I had returned to my face without realizing it. Coach's hand had sped up, and I could tell he was close. My own heart was pounding, partly from the excitement of seeing this private act, something I had imagined hundreds of times, live and in person, and partly from the excitement of knowing I could be discovered at any time.

Coach Rutland's cockhead was bright red and his left hand a blur as his right hand returned to his balls. His thrusting hips began to jerk almost uncontrollably and I watched as he began to erupt thick ropes of cum across the shower area. I was brought back to reality by his staccato grunts fired off with each volley of semen. As he shot a fourth time and a fifth, his cock began to deflate slightly, and I realized it was time for me to go. I tossed the jockstrap back onto the pile of his clothes, and slipped quietly towards the door.

One last glance towards the shower showed Coach with his back again towards me, washing the shampoo out of his hair and the soap from his body. I quietly slipped the door closed and ran from the locker room.

When I got home, I wanted to do two things. First, I wanted to tell Jamie the amazing news about our luck in getting roomed together for the meet just over a week away. Secondly, I wanted to jack off until I could get rid of the boner I had from checking out Coach Rutland in the shower. My first priority was thwarted when I realized that Jamie's cell phone was off, and he wasn't on IM. I left him a message to call me back, and headed through the empty house to my room to take care of the second piece of business.

Laying in my bed naked, left hand stroking my rigid dick while my right hand rolled my nuts back and forth in their sack, I played the whole shower scene back in slow motion. I especially enjoyed imagining catching Rutland's load across my cheeks and forehead as his cock erupted with its first volley, the second and third covering my lips as my mouth opened to take the rest of his shots and dribbles. I could almost taste the salty, bitterness of his nut, feel the tendrils of his load clinging to the inside of my mouth and my tongue.

Just as I got close to shooting, the image shifted in my mind, and instead of blowing his load on my face, it was his fiance's, the woman I had seen in the picture on his desk. In this re-visioning, Rutland's eyes were open as he looked down on her face, covering her chin in his load as he watched it drip down onto her huge, perfect breasts. And then, I was imagining him taking her from behind. I was watching his ass pump into her, the fleshy mounds of her ass quaking with every frenzied thrust that he put to her. I could see her slutty face looking back towards him like a cheap porn star, as she begged to take more and to take it harder.

With a slap of his hand on her ass, it was me he was fucking hard in the ass. My fingers left my balls and worked their way into my crack, as my other hand continued to jerk my cock faster and faster. And then I was coming hard, my ass clenching on my index finger inserted to the second knuckle. My toes curled and my back arched as my load flew completely over my head painting the wall behind me. My orgasm continued to rock my body for a few minutes as I slowly climbed back down the mountain. I grabbed a sock and wiped my load from the wall and went in to take a shower.

Of course, being in the shower was enough to coax me into shooting out another load, reliving the experience once again. Each time my thoughts of Coach Rutland led me to imagine him with her. In these fantasies, she would take his fuck or his load in the way that I wanted to take them. My orgasms were good, but I was left spent and confused.

As I lay in bed, inviting sleep, I couldn't help but think that her appearance in my masturbatory fantasies was like her real-life claim to him somehow became manifest even in my most private thoughts. The Coach was a real man, a straight man with a life-claim on a woman, his woman. It was almost as if there was some sort of protector of cosmic monogamy that wouldn't even let Coach Rutland and I fornicate in the bliss of my own mind without forcing her into the picture. Like the universe had bound the two of them together, and my stolen glances earlier in the day had somehow infringed on her right to him, on their coupling, unbalanced the natural order of man and soon-to-be wife. I fell asleep wondering what it would feel like to belong to another person in that way, and wishing I might have that someday.

Jamie had left me an IM when I awoke the next morning apologizing for not giving me a call back, and indicating that he would see me at practice. This brightened up my day considerably, and as soon as I could get to the locker room for practice, I was there. I spent my extra time cleaning up the already-perfect equipment cage and chatting with a few guys who were warming up with weights before practice.

Before I knew it, the familiar rush of bodies started to flow into the space, and I headed out with the first load of equipment. Back in the cage, Jamie caught up with me. He was wearing his sweat shorts and a t-shirt. His back was to the cage door, and I was squatting, putting some equipment into a bag for my next trip out. He closed the distance between us, and used his left hand to pull my face into his crotch. In our few seconds of contact, I could feel his hard dick grind against my cheek and nose, the head pressing into my forehead.

"I'm so fucking horny," he whispered, letting me go. "I need your mouth on my dick right now."

"Gibson," called the familiar voice of Coach Rutland from the office. "You and Lake can chat later. Get out on the track and start stretching."

Jamie turned to me and shrugged. "See you after practice, dude."

"Yeah," I smiled, almost purring. "See you." And he was gone, followed by a few other stragglers.

Before I could even look back down at the equipment I was gathering, Coach Rutland was at the cage door. It looked like he was in the same black shorts and t-shirt he had been in the day before.

"Lake. Great equipment count from yesterday. I appreciate that you took the time to dot your i's and cross your t's." He turned to walk out, but then stopped and looked back at me. "And thanks for leaving the towel on my desk yesterday." He paused and looked towards his office door and then back towards me. "I just expected it to be outside my door, but thanks for going the extra mile."

"Sure, Coach," I choked out. I hadn't remembered leaving the towel behind on his desk when I had hurried out of the office. "Anything. Anytime. Whatever you need." I caught myself and stopped talking.

Coach Rutland half-smirked at me. "I know. I think of you as my left hand, Lake. Now get that stuff outside." His voice trailed behind him as he headed out the door.

I was taking Jamie's cock as deeply as I could, given my position. I was squatting down, the handle of a kitchen cabinet digging into my back as Jamie pounded into my sucking mouth. My hands were on his hips, and his hands gripped the edge of the kitchen counter. His occasional eager thrust would drive my head not-so-gently into the hard wood behind it.

Although he wasn't loud, he wasn't particularly quiet, either. Jamie was a vocal participant in our sexual escapades, and although this was the most public sex we had had, aside from me blowing him inside his truck in a few parking lots, his constant stream of encouraging chatter was flowing like always. "Yeah. Take it. Take my cock. You feel so fucking good. Fuck, yeah."

I couldn't shush him with my mouth full of cock, so I just hoped that this would be one of the faster blow-jobs I had given him. It was his idea to come to the kitchen for some drinks when we arrived home after stopping for BK on the way home. Although I had blown quite a few solitary loads in the preceding thirty-six hours, I was probably still as horny as he was, so it didn't take much convincing for me to slide down in front of him, pulling his shorts and boxers down with me.

In seconds, he was fully hard, and minutes later, we were fucking intensely. What we were doing was rutting, Jamie just taking advantage of a convenient hole, and the taste and smell of him, the power that he had over me in this position was intoxicating. I couldn't get enough and I sucked him ravenously. It was probably all over in fifteen minutes, as Jamie groaned and shot right down my throat. I held back my gag reflex as I took his first few shots deeply, and then gently suckled as he shot the last few in my mouth. He knew I loved the taste of his jizz, and provided me with it like it was a gift. Pulling out of my mouth, he jacked one more pearl of semen from his spent cock and wiped it onto my upper lip.

He reached down to pull up his boxers and shorts and then reached down again to pull me to my feet. Grabbing two cokes from the fridge, he headed out the door. As I crossed the threshold into the dining room behind him, Anthony was just walking from the dining room into the kitchen. Our eyes locked. "Oh, hi." I said, attempting courtesy. Anthony smirked in response, and I shifted my eyes to the floor as he passed me.

As we headed up the stairs, I pulled at the back of Jamie's t-shirt. "I think he heard us. I think he knew. The way he looked at me."

"Bullshit. That's just Anthony. You're imagining things. He has no clue."

Reassured, I followed Jamie into his rooms.

I rang the doorbell and took a step back. The house was huge, and I had no idea how long it might take for someone to respond to the chiming I could hear inside. I looked across the expansive, manicured lawn. A light over the three car garage and a matching one lighting the stoop on which I was standing cast the only illumination from the property. The windows lining the front of the house were dark. Light from the lamps along the street crept towards the house, bushes and trees in the yard casting long shadows across the grass. There was a slight chill in the air, a crispness of spring having not yet forgotten the cool caress of winter. I rubbed my arms and tried to decide if I should ring again or grab my bike and head for home.

A few more minutes had passed, and I had just decided to give up, taking a few steps away from the house, when the door swung open. Anthony was standing in the dim light of the inside hallway, a thick cotton towel was wrapped around his slim hips and waist and tucked in to hold it in place. Droplets of water clung to his smooth chest, slowly sliding down dark skin into the hollows created by his tight abs, finally absorbed into the thick pile of the towel.

"I was in the back yard by the pool. You better come in before I get the floor wet." He turned and walked into the house, and after a moment, I followed, closing the door behind us. I walked quickly to catch up with Anthony as he sauntered towards the back of the house. The small entryway sconces cast pools of light into the dark rooms the foyer opened onto, a living room, a dining room, an adjoining hallway, but the high ceilings and dark toned walls and furnishings seemed to absorb the light. I caught up with Anthony in the kitchen.

"Is Jamie here? I kind of needed him for something." Anthony was standing in front of the refrigerator in the dark kitchen. The light from the appliance shone brightly on his skin and the towel. He looked over at me and smirked as he bent over to grab a six-pack of beer, letting the stainless steel door swing closed as he straightened.

"Yeah. I think I know what you kind of needed him for." I could feel the blush rising in my cheeks, confirming Anthony's implication that more than friendship existed between his stepbrother and I. I hoped it was too dark for him to see the change, but the smirk never left his lips as he walked past me, his shoulder brushing mine. I watched his ass move beneath the towel, seductive and slow, as he made his way to the sliding glass door. Sliding the screen to the side, he turned towards me. My focus traveled from his hips up his chest until our eyes locked. "Unfortunately, he's not here. But that doesn't mean you have to leave." He glanced down to his stomach where his free hand scratched at his navel, fingers straying into the waistband of the towel and then traveling up to circle a nipple before his voice drew my eyes back to his. "Why don't you join me on the terrace. Unless, of course, you have some other pressing plans."

"Um. I. Well." I didn't know what to say or whether I should stay. My mind was racing. On one hand, I had heard enough about Anthony so that I wanted to know more. This might be my chance to get a sense of him first-hand. On the other, I was worried that I might not know what to say, and he could use this to back me into a corner which would confirm his suspicions about his stepbrother and I. I rationalized that I would only stay for a little bit, in the hopes that Jamie might return any minute. I threw caution to the wind, and stepped towards the terrace and my destiny.

The stone terrace bordered a beautiful, fully lit swimming pool. A giant privacy fence surrounded the entire area. Palms and ferns of every shape and size filled the space creating an oasis-like feel. Anthony had wandered towards the back corner of the yard and I followed him through a maze of chaise lounges, chairs and tables to the in-ground Jacuzzi which sat adjacent to the pool.

The two sides of the hot tub that didn't open onto the stone terrace were lined with small lights that brightened up the area a little. Anthony set the six-pack down beside the bubbling, frothing water, pulling a Heineken out of the case, and twisting off the cap. He leaned his head back and took a long drag from the bottle. His towel had loosened a little in the process of bending over and sunk a touch lower on his hips.

"There's nothing like a good hot soak to relax a man," Anthony said as he casually turned away from me, pulling off the towel and dropping it to the ground beside him. Anthony's naked back was to me, and I couldn't help but admire the way his calves rounded out like tennis balls sat under the skin. Thick, black hair ran up his legs from his ankles and over the firm planes of his ass. I wondered how his bottom half could be so hairy and his top half so smooth. Anthony seemed completely comfortable in his own body, taking a few leisurely steps toward the Jacuzzi, stepping first to the seat and then slowly settling the rest of his body into the hot water. Finally, he came to rest in the far corner of the tub facing me.

Anthony released a moaning sigh, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "Feels so fucking nice. You better get out of those clothes if you're gonna join me." I hesitated, still standing beside the hot tub. "Jesus Christ. It's nothing I've never seen before. Fucking grow up already."

At his insistence, I pulled off my t-shirt and dropped my shorts, leaving me in just my Hanes briefs. The air felt cold on my bare skin, and I was drawn to the warm water. I stepped towards the tub.

"Undies too, little one. No need to be modest. I'll show you mine later, if you ask nicely." Anthony laughed and drank again from his beer, setting it beside him as I stood there humiliated. I wanted to grab my clothes and run, but I knew that doing so would only add to my shame. Grateful that seeing Anthony's easy nakedness hadn't made me throw a bone, I half-turned to the side, and shucked my briefs, kicking them towards my other clothes. Feeling as uncomfortable being naked in front of him as he had seemed relaxed in front of me, I wanted nothing more than to disappear into the dark night or the water of the tub. I wished I had declined Anthony's invitation to stay. I quickly stepped towards the Jacuzzi; I wanted to be in the water, hidden from Anthony's attentive gaze.

The water was dark, and I was unsure where to step, which slowed down my entrance. Stepping down to the seat with one leg, I felt on display, spread bare before this man I only half knew. I slipped on my next step and fell forward towards Anthony, fully submerging myself in the hot water. The heat was a shock to my system, slowing my reaction, and it wasn't until Anthony pulled me up by the shoulders that I realized I was very unintentionally half-kneeling right in front of him, one of my hands on his chest, the other on his thigh in my awkward attempt to break my fall.

Realization of my position dawned as Anthony moved me to the bench next to him, and I pulled my hands away like I'd been stung. "You fall for a guy pretty quickly, don't ya," he laughed. I didn't know what to say in response. "I didn't even have to buy you a beer." He laughed again.

"I'm sorry..." I sputtered. "I guess I lost my balance." I was mortified at the first impression I had made on Anthony. I wasn't sure if I could ever recover a shred of dignity.

"Don't worry," Anthony said, still laughing, just a hint of his previous smirk creeping onto his dark lips, "bitches swoon all the time when I show a little flesh. You're not the first." And with this, he just busted out. He must have laughed for a full minute. "At least you made it to the Jacuzzi. I wasn't sure you'd make it in the front door." Still laughing, he finished his beer. He looked over at me, and noticed that I wasn't laughing with him. "Lighten up already, little one. It's not the end of the world. Just to make nice, and show you we're still pals, I'll buy you the first beer anyway."

He moved from the corner of the hot tub to kneel on the seat across from me. Water cascaded down his back and across the half of his ass that raised out of the water as he reached for two beers. I could see traces of hair on his lower back that grew more dense on his cheeks, and as he leaned over and they parted slightly, I could see even more fur in his crack. The muscles in his back tensed slightly as he twisted the caps off the bottles. Slipping back down into the water, he turned towards me and handed me a beer. I took it as he settled back into his corner.

"I guess we should start our first drink together with a little toast, eh," he said, raising his beer bottle towards mine. "How about 'to knowing when to take what is offered, and knowing how to get what is not.'" Anthony clinked the neck of his beer bottle against mine and took a swig. I wasn't sure what his toast meant, but I followed suit with a gulp of my own. For a few minutes neither of us said anything. Anthony reached to a control panel next to him, and kicked the jets along the walls into high gear. I took a few more sips from my beer and enjoyed the pressure of the water pressing into my back.

"So, you like the Heine?" Anthony asked. I jerked my head towards him in surprise, misunderstanding his question. He was looking right at me. "I meant the beer, little one."

"Yeah. The beer is great, although I haven't had many beers in my life. Actually, only two others. But it tastes great. Thanks." I stopped myself before I began to really babble. A small victory.

"So if you don't drink beer, what do you drink?" Anthony inquired.

"Cokes mostly, I guess," I responded. "Oh...I mean, I haven't had alcohol much. Just those two beers like I said. My dad shared them with me. He feels this need to over-compensate because he's away a lot traveling on business, and so sometimes we do things like 'sharing a beer' just to ease his parental guilt, or whatever."

"So, you've never had a shot?" Anthony asked slowly, taking a drink.

"Never." I took a drink, too.

"Well, that's going to change." And with that, Anthony stepped up and out of the hot tub before I could say anything. In two minutes, he was walking back towards me. From a distance in the darkness, his pubic patch was just a shadow. As he got closer, I could begin to make out the fleshy stalk of his dick jutting out above heavy balls. His thick pubes were everywhere, spreading down his thighs and even up onto his belly thinning out and disappearing below his navel.

When he arrived tub-side, a bottle in each hand, he held them up, arms away from his sides, drawing my attention to his pits and pecs and finally his eyes. "I told you I'd show you mine later," he smirked, wiggling his hips from side to side, "and I didn't even make you ask for it." His uncut dick bobbed and swayed with the motion, and then he was stepping back into the hot water. He set one bottle to the side of the tub and uncapped the other. Still standing, dark water bubbling at his waist, he took a swig of the yellow liquid. "This is tequila, and it is pure heaven," he sat right beside me. "Try it."

I took the half-full bottle a little tentatively, but purposely did not want to provide him with another chance to hurry me or call me 'little one' as he had seemed to grow fond of. I wrapped my lips around the bottle and threw my head back. I took a full gulp, and the tequila burned as it went down, warming my insides like the water warmed my outside. I pulled back with a gasp.

I looked over to see Anthony really smiling at me. He seemed genuinely pleased to share this moment with me. "Good job," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. "You didn't even flinch on your first shot. Now, another." Feeling encouraged, I did the same again, reveling in the burning sensation this time.

"Damn," I said, handing the bottle back to him. "Why does it burn?"

"To remind you that you're alive, my friend. To remind you to take advantage of every opportunity." He set the bottle aside and settled back into the corner with his beer. "Have a little more beer, and then we can do another shot. You don't want to drink too quickly." Anthony moved across the hot tub so that we were facing one another. He slumped down a little and put his feet up on the bench next to me.

Conversation lulled for a moment before Anthony asked me how I got to know Jamie. I explained about my role as track team manager, and how we had occasionally seen each other around school before that. As I talked, the combination of warm water and the alcohol I was consuming began to really relax me, and I just continued to spill the story of my life to Anthony. I covered my family life, my school life, the social life I really didn't have until I met Jamie. I think I even talked about our last family vacation to Orlando a year-and-a-half ago. Anthony just let me talk, facing me from across the hot tub, swigging his beer occasionally and scratching at his right pec with his left hand. It wasn't until my own beer was gone that I realized I had been talking non-stop.

"I'm out," I said, smiling a little sheepishly at Anthony. I was a little light-headed and liked the way I was feeling.

"Of beer or conversation?" he laughed back, and I laughed, too. "Well, if you finished your beer, it's time for another shot." He had barely said the words before I had the tequila bottle in my hand, and another mouthful was burning its way to my belly. Anthony motioned to the six-pack behind him. "Go ahead and get another beer." This time, I had to kneel on the seat next to him to grab a beer, but I was feeling less modest and leaned out over the edge of the tub for my prize. Beer in hand, I both heard and felt the smack of Anthony's hand lightly on my bare behind. His unexpected touch was electric against my skin.

"Look at that hot little ass," Anthony said, still cupping my cheek before releasing it with a squeeze. "I'm surprised you don't have folks lining up for a piece of that, little one."

"You really think so?" I asked, turning away from him to give him a full view of the flesh he had just handled.

"Hell, yeah. So tight and firm, you must attract the bitches like bees to honey." He paused, catching my eyes with his brown, piercing stare. "I bet you even have men chasing you, don't you?" Hearing Anthony talk about me as an attractive, sexual person really began to turn me on. I could feel the blood pumping into my cock, and was appreciative that the dark water hid that part of me for the moment. Even hearing him call me 'little one' in the context of his compliments took some of the sting out of the insult.

"I don't know," I said reluctantly. "I don't date much. Just now and then," which stretched the truth significantly. In all honesty, I'd never been on a date with a guy or a girl. "I bet you have lots of dates, don't you?" I looked at Anthony across the hot tub. The water jets had slowed a bit and the tub was as calm as it had been since I arrived. Anthony reached behind himself, bracing his hands on the edge of the tub. With a pull and a grunt, he hoisted himself out of the water, perching on the edge of the hot tub, his spread legs dangling down to the seat he had just been sitting on.

"Actually, little one, I don't date at all." I noticed a smile traced across thick lips as my eyes followed the water droplets racing down Anthony's neck and smooth chest into his belly hairs and the thickness of his bush until they finally worked their way back out to collect under large nuts perched on the edge of the tub, or drip off his thick cock which dangled just over the edge. "I hang with the guys, and when I need a little action, we hit it with the bitches, and eventually, I find one who'll take everything I've got. Some stick around for a while, and take care of my needs, others only last for one night. It doesn't really matter, honestly. Eventually, I get bored with what I have and I move on. Cuz, little one," Anthony's pause drew my attention back to his eyes, "the excitement is in the chase, in the newness of discovery, in the plowing of fresh fertile ground. You know what I mean?"

I didn't have any idea what he meant, but Anthony's frankness felt very intimate to me. He was talking to me like a contemporary, sharing his philosophy, the framework of his approach to life. And inadvertently or not, he was sharing his body with me, too. He was displayed before me openly, giving me visual access to the core of his masculinity--and it was impressive, the shaft just slightly darker than the rest of his skin, the pink head half-poking out of its light brown foreskin hood. I nodded and took a drink from my beer.

Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. Then Anthony spoke. "I don't think I told you. Jamie's out on a date tonight. With Michelle or Megan or Mary or something. She's all he's been talking about, lately."

"Oh," I replied. "I didn't know. I guess he didn't mention it." I was honestly surprised by this revelation. It seemed to come out of nowhere, but I felt a twinge of jealousy rise up inside me. Which was confusing, as well. After all, Jamie and I weren't dating, we weren't 'together.' I was a guy who was giving him head, a friend with benefits. He even said I gave the best head he had ever had. Which begged the question of why he needed to go on a date with another girl. Another girl? Was I crazy?! I shook my head to clear it just a little and to make sure I wasn't going mad.

"Of course, I don't know that I'd waste my time, if I had at home what he had at home." Anthony splashed a little water at me and I looked over at him. "And we both know what I mean, don't we?" He smirked and I looked away, dropping my eyes to the water. Anger flashed through me, and my heart began to race. Of course, Anthony knew what was going on. He had alluded to it tonight more than once already. Did he have to make me say it out loud. "I asked you a question, little one. We both know, don't we?" I nodded my head in affirmation. "I didn't hear you. Can you speak up?"

I looked back towards him, our eyes locked. "Yes." Shame swept over me. Shame that I would betray my secret activities with Jamie to his stepbrother, and truly unexpected shame at admitting to Anthony, a virile, masculine, straight man, that his suspicions of my sexual orientation were true. The latter was most confusing because in my whole life, my gayness had never been an issue for me. I felt out, comfortable, open. And yet, my admission to Anthony felt completely in contradiction to that openness.

"So, my stepbrother and his best friend are cocksuckers. Who would have guessed with all the football and baseball trophies that kid has piled up that he'd turn out to be some puto whore." I wasn't sure how serious Anthony was, but I started to panic. Suddenly, the stakes had been raised significantly, and it was all my fault. I felt sick to my stomach, and the anger and jealousy that overwhelmed me moments ago morphed into loyalty. I couldn't believe I was hearing Anthony say such malicious things about his stepbrother, the one guy who had treated me with kindness and respect. The one guy I had grown to love in the past few weeks, regardless whether that emotion was something he could return.

"No. It's not like that Anthony. Jamie isn't a cocksucker. I do him, but he never does anything to me. Never. I swear. I suck him off and that's it."

"That's it, huh? Does he fuck you?"

"No. Never. Just sucking. Me sucking him. That's all we've ever done. He's not what you said. He's as straight as you. I'm the fag. Me." And then it dawned on me what I was saying. Was this truly how I felt about myself? Did I really think of myself as a cocksucker and a fag? I couldn't deny that the words had crossed my lips, that I had named myself these things.

Anthony was quick to respond. "Okay, little one. I'll take you at your word that you're the queer one. It doesn't bother me that you are. When I say that I've had bitches on my jock, that includes guys. I guess my stepbrother and I might have that in common. After all, there is something hot about seeing a muscular stud swinging on your meat. So, cocksucker, look at me, and I want the truth." Anthony's searching eyes bore into mine. "Have you been checking me out tonight?"

My mind was overloading. I couldn't tear my eyes away from Anthony, and the moment I averted my gaze downward, it settled on his thickening cock. When I realized that I was staring at his crotch, my eyes leapt back up to meet his. And his eyes only confirmed his knowledge that I had been checking him out.

"I guess." I stumbled and stuttered my words. "I mean.... Well... I just. It's so nice, and I've never seen one like it. I mean, you're not. You're natural. You still have your..." I couldn't find the word to describe his foreskin given my impaired state of mind. This combined with an irrational fear that Anthony would act out in some way made my heart race and the blood speed through my veins. And, unbelievably, my cock still throbbed rock hard, standing up against my belly.

Anthony smiled. "Settle down, little one. We're fine. You can check me out. It's okay." With his right hand, he reached down and stroked the foreskin back from the head of his cock. Using the tip of his index finger, he rubbed a pearl of pre-cum around the head, before sliding the foreskin back in place. "So, you've never seen an uncut dick, eh." Fingering the edge of his hood, he stretched the loose skin of his cock out, pulling his plumping dick along with it. "Foreskin is fun, little one. But it won't take a horny little bitch like you long to find that out, will it. After all, Jamie can't be the only guy you're blowing, right?"

My eyes were glued to Anthony's crotch as he used his fingers to gently tease his foreskin and shaft with lingering strokes. His uncut cock fascinated me, and I wondered how much different it would feel in my mouth than Jamie's. It took me more than a moment to process that he had asked me a question and I responded immediately. "No. Jamie's the only one. I swear. The first, and the only."

Anthony shifted a little bit, pulling a leg out of the water and perching it on the edge of the tub. If he was spread before me a moment ago, his new position was nothing short of lewd. "It won't be that way for long, little one. I know all about bitches like you. Your breed craves cock. Can't get enough of the tranca, and the bigger and thicker, the better. Though the truth is it doesn't matter." Anthony's cock flopped to the side as he released it and began to tug and scratch at the hairs on his nuts. "Given enough time, a bitch will give it up for any cock, and no matter the looks or station of the guy its attached to. You see, the only way your type gets pleasure is from taking dick. And you'll take it in any hole you can. As often as you can. Sure, you'll lick balls or kiss ass, too. Or anything else a real man tells you to do, but the goal is always the dick. You hear what I'm saying?"

I nodded yes, even though I wasn't sure I agreed with Anthony. It didn't sound to me like I fit into the category he was describing. And on some level, that was a comfort in itself.

"But as much as you crave cock, your ultimate pleasure comes from taking the essence of a real man inside you." Anthony paused. "Stop looking at my nuts for a minute, little one, and look me in the eyes." I slowly drew my gaze upwards to his. "Do you know what I'm talking about?" I shook my head no. "Cum. Jizz. Spooge. Mecos. What I'm saying is you'll do anything to get it. In your mouth, on your face, in your ass. You'll do anything for a man's baby batter. Won't you?"

"No," I said with a bit of a pout. "I told you, Jamie and I have never done that last thing. We've never even talked about it." I spoke with quiet assurance. I'd never really even thought about getting fucked. I loved sucking dick, but the need for a second act had never presented itself.

"I forgot, little one." Jamie returned to rubbing and scratching his balls and my eyes settled on his slow manipulations once again. "You haven't been fucked." A pause. "Yet." Another. "But you do love the taste of cum, don't you. You swallow Jamie's loads, right?"

"Yeah. I guess so," I admitted and felt my cock surge. Although I was reluctant to speak it, I did savor Jamie's taste. The taste of his body, his sweat, and especially his cum. I loved its texture and richness. Sometimes I didn't want to swallow, but rather to hold it in my mouth as long as I could. And when he did come on my face, I always tried to gather as much of it as I could in my mouth. I had come to think of wasting his semen as a personal failing.

"You just guess?" Anthony pushed me.

"No. I do. I love everything about his cum." I looked down at the water, at the darkness that was hiding me from Anthony. "I know it probably sounds sick or gross or something, but I love feeling him cum in my mouth, and I love the taste of his load. I love knowing it's inside of me and that he's a part of me. That I carry something of him away with me when I have to go. Sometimes I feel like taking his cock and his load makes me whole, and while I know that it's totally fucked up, I can't help but know that in my heart it's true." Two tears had begun to run down my face as I spoke the words aloud. I licked them away from the corner of my mouth.

"Little one...," Anthony drew out the salutation. "Like I said, you can't help that you're a bitch. It's how you were made. You were put here to service men. Real men. Guys like Jamie and like me who are driven to fuck and to find pleasure and to procreate. Our gift is our physical prowess. Our cocks and balls and the powerful cum that they produce. We are put here to attract mates and put our cocks to them. There's nothing wrong with you loving dick. Without you and mayates like you, then guys like me would not be able to do what needs to be done." Hearing Anthony talk kept my hard dick pumping blood. I thought I might burst, but I was still shy about Anthony seeing my arousal. Until he turned on the lights inside the tub, putting my hard cock on display.

I immediately moved my hands to cover myself. Anthony chuckled. "Look at that chilito. I knew you were turned on. I just wanted to see how much. And by the looks of it, it's a lot. So, will you do a me a favor, little one?" Anthony had really turned on the charm. "Will you show me that sweet ass again? Please. After all, I've been showing you everything I got, and it's clear that you're enjoying the view."

His request brought a giggle to the surface because of the degree to which it shocked me. Anthony wanted to see my ass again. My ass. An ass he called 'sweet.' Feelings of attraction to Anthony washed over me as internally processed his desire to check out my wares. I was thrilled that it wasn't just one-way, but that we each had something to offer the other.

"Come on. Just give me a look. It's been two days since I came, and I'll need something to get me through tonight. It's too late to find a piece tonight, and I just want to look."

It didn't take a ton of convincing. "Yeah. Okay. You can see it." I stood up and turned away from him, modeling my nude flesh. I was posing, trying to be natural, hoping he found me sexy, not sure what to do with my hands, hoping I wasn't making an idiot of myself. I heard Anthony's wolf whistle behind me.

"Hot fucking ass. What you got is sweet. Bend over a little bit, little one. Show it off for me." Given this ego boost, I was feeling pretty good about myself, and I did what Anthony asked, bending at the waist and propping myself on the edge of the tub with my hand. I traced my hip and asscheek with my other hand, resting it on the back of my thigh. I was still standing in knee deep water. "Spread your cheeks apart, and let me see your hot hole."

I stood up and turned around. "No. That's nasty, Anthony. I don't want to do that."

Anthony looked at me with big brown eyes. He was so disappointed. "Come on sexy thing. Don't get shy now. You were doing such a nice job for old Anthony, and little Anthony, too." He added, shaking his hardening cock at me, fingers curled gently around the shaft. "Won't you do this one more thing..."

I turned back around and put a foot on the edge of the tub, bending over slightly again, I could feel my cheeks spread, and the cool air tickle my crack and whisper against my asshole. The breeze caught me off-guard and I stood back up quickly before sitting back down in the warm water.

"Thanks, little sexy bitch. That was nice." Anthony's cock looked like it had achieved full hardness, the foreskin completely retracted from the head. Both of us were snapped out of our visual flesh exchange by the ringing of a phone. Anthony looked at me. "Keep quiet now, little one. You hear." I nodded. Anthony pressed a button on the control panel next to him.

"Hello."

"Anthony. I'm so glad you're home. It's me, Lisa." The alto strains of a woman's disembodied voice carried to both of us from the speakerphone. There was a pause before she continued calmly, "Remember Lisa. From Rosie's Pub." Anthony still waited, milking his dick in his hand, causing his balls to sway a little back and forth. Lisa was less calm when she started again. "You motherfucker. You better say something. After all, you didn't even wake me up before you left on Tuesday morning, which is pretty shitty. You could have at least said good-bye. And then you didn't even call. It's been three days. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"If you're so pissed, what are you calling me for? Why don't you just hang up and move on, you crazy bitch. I don't need this shit." Anthony was cool, not angry. He moved towards the disconnect button.

"Don't hang up, Anthony. I'm sorry. I just got carried away." Now it was Lisa's turn to pause. I was enjoying this little drama, and I was pleased when Anthony left the connection open. Her voice turned solicitous, bordering on whiny. "I really need you tonight. I need you to come over here."

"What do you need? You better not be wasting my time." Anthony was direct.

"You know what I need. You put it to me so good last time. I could feel it for days. I need more of that. I need you now." Lisa's voice was glowing now.

"I asked you what you needed. Are you gonna answer my question?" Anthony pushed her like he had pushed me earlier.

She was hesitant in her response, pausing for a minute, then two. "I need it. Your cock. I need your big cock, and I need it inside me." Lisa's voice was getting breathy. "Is that what you wanted to hear. I need to get fucked hard again, and you're the best I've gotten in a long time."

Anthony flashed me a smile as he continued stroking his hard cock from root to tip. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear, bitch. I can hear that you're hot for me, but you better get me hot, too. Tell me right now what you're wearing."

"You fucking horndog. You wanna play that game, huh." Lisa giggled. "Okay, but I'm not wearing much. I just have on a halter top and a thong."

"I want you to put your finger in your cunt, Lisa." Anthony paused. "Are you listening to me? Are you putting your finger inside yourself?"

"Yeah. I have my finger in me. It feels good, but nothing like you, baby." Lisa was purring.

"Are you wet?" Anthony flashed me a toothy grin and looked to the speaker phone. He was clearly enjoying the phone sex, and my being present to witness it seemed to please him even more.

"Yeah. I'm totally wet. Totally juicy for you. Now, are you gonna come over here and give me what I need? Are you gonna come fuck the hell out of me?"

"Here's what I want you to do, baby. I want you to put another finger in your pussy, and your thumb on your clit. You're gonna fingerbang yourself for a few minutes."

"Oh, Anthony. You're a dirty boy, but lucky I like phone sex."

"Don't interrupt me if you want more than those fingers in your box tonight." Anthony was stern. "Now, you're gonna bang yourself until you cum and you're gonna talk me through the whole process. You better make this dick hard. So, start with the part where you're sucking my cock and go from there. You got it?"

"Yeah. Anthony. I got it." Anthony pressed the mute button on the phone, but we could both hear Lisa begin to describe Anthony standing before her as she reached for his belt...

Anthony let go of his cock and leaned towards me. "Little one. It looks like I found my bitch for tonight. You better grab your stuff, get dressed and head out. You can use the towel I dropped there poolside to dry off." Anthony pointed in the direction of the discarded wrap.

Lisa's voice continued on, "And now I'm sucking on your balls...your hot, hairy nuts and they hang down so far...yeah..." Her breathing was bordering on panting and her voice was becoming more punctuated as she began to draw near to a climax.

I was taken aback. I thought we were sharing this moment. I'd felt like an insider, and now I was being shown the door, or at least pointed in the direction of it. I was being replaced by Lisa, and it hurt. Another rush of jealousy swept over me. "But I thought..."

"You thought what? That I'd pass on some juicy cunt to hang with my step-brother's maricon?" Anthony laughed. "Look...we had a little fun tonight. You got an eyeful of my dick and I got to scope out your fine ass. But I really need to get fucked. I don't jack off and I don't waste my babymakers. It's been two days. So, when I come across an available bitch, I fuck it."

I couldn't hide the disappointment and rejection I felt as Anthony's words washed over me. I don't know what I had expected. It was hard for me to think clearly, or find words. It was hard to make my body move. I finally stood up, and looked at Anthony. Lisa's moans backgrounded our eye contact. I moved towards the edge of the tub and prepared to step out. "I'm sorry. I... I'll just go." My back to Anthony, I perched one foot immodestly on the edge of the tub spreading myself as I stepped up and out. I looked over my shoulder to see Anthony's eyes fixed on my ass.

"Little one. There is a way that... Well, I mean you do have a nice mouth, and you're right here right now. If you wanna take care of this," and he shook his cock in my direction, "I mean, if you wanna take Lisa's place tonight, I'm cool with that." Lisa was cumming again in the background. "What I mean is one mouth is as good as another, right. Only if you want to, but I gotta get this shit sorted out. So decide, am I fucking you or am I fucking Lisa?

Without hesitation, I turned towards Anthony. "Me. Please... Fuck me." I spoke quietly, but I was sure in that moment what I wanted. And all I wanted was Anthony's pole in my mouth and my throat.

"Just one thing." Anthony looked at his hand stroke the length of his thick meat. "You're gonna finish what you start here. If you're standing in for Lisa, you're gonna give me everything she would have given me. And that's pretty much anything."

"Yes. Anything. Please." Again, no hesitation. I was singularly determined to have Anthony for a reason I could not quite comprehend, but every commitment I made to him, every please that crossed my lips only made my cock pulse harder.

"Then get over here and start sucking my dripping knob, bitch. And keep it quiet. I gotta sweet talk Lisa off the phone."

I was on my knees in front of Anthony before my mind registered the action of my body. I had my right hand curled in the pubes at the base of his cock as my mouth found the tip and began to lick like a lolli. The fingers of my left hand tickled Anthony's right thigh from the knee to the crotch before beginning a slow exploration of his nut sack. Anthony groaned and leaned back against the fence behind him. I was in nirvana between his thighs, and, for a moment, I wasn't sure if the steam was rising from the water below us or the heat of his crotch.

Lisa had begun to describe Anthony fucking her from behind as he reached over to switch the phone off of mute. As I began to take shaft into my mouth, Anthony interrupted her sexual monologue.

"How many times have you cum?" he asked.

"I had one big one, Anthony, and a few minis."

"I want you to take your fingers out of your hole and taste them for me. Taste your juicy pussy for me, bitch."

Lisa was panting now. "I'm so wet, and my fingers are sweet like honey. I need your cock now, Anthony." I was stroking Anthony's cock as I licked at his heavy balls and nipped at his strong thighs.

"It's rock hard and huge, but you know what? I was listening, and you forgot an important part of the story." Anthony waited a moment. "I want you to tell me what part you forgot."

"Anthony, I did all the parts." Lisa was getting really whiny now. "I told you how I'd suck your cock and lick at your balls. And then how you'd fuck me so hard."

"But you know there's something else I like." Anthony's voice was demanding.

"Anthony. You know I don't like that..."

"Listen, bitch. It's all or nothing here. Like it or not, you'll eat my ass or you're not getting any part of the fuck you say you so desperately need." With a tug at my hair, Anthony guided my head back up to his stiff prick, plugging my mouth with the head. "Now, start to play with those nipples and tell me what I want to hear or hang up the phone."

I waited for the click and dial tone, fully expecting Lisa to tell Anthony to fuck off and die. But the click never came, and Anthony established a short fucking rhythm, guiding my mouth over his cocktip by his grip in my hair as Lisa reluctantly began to describe how she would eat out his asshole. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, or that a person would do something so disgusting. Concentrating on the jabs of his cock in and out of my mouth and the swirl of my tongue across the base of his cock-head, it was hard for me to give much attention to the specifics of what Lisa was saying. I was lost in the head I was so gladly giving Anthony, and it filled me with bliss to have him inside me.

"You could show some enthusiasm," Anthony scolded.

"Maybe I would if you'd return the favor. I bet you have a talented tongue," Lisa fired back. Running my hands across Anthony's thighs, I wondered if the interplay of anger in their relationship made the fucking hotter for Anthony and Lisa. The thought was pushed from my mind as Anthony pulled me hard onto his cock, pushing into my throat. I gagged at the unexpected intrusion, my nose pressed against his pubes.

He held me against him, as he responded harshly. "Bitch, you know I don't eat pussy. That shit is nasty. Now don't piss me off or you'll never have my dick. Ever." Realizing my struggle, Anthony released me, and I pulled back, gasping for air. He slapped me gently on the side of the head, finger to lips in a quieting motion.

"I'm sorry. Anthony." Lisa actually sounded apologetic and I slowly regained my breath. "I just need you real bad." Through teary eyes, I could see him point to his balls, and my tongue was on them in a flash, and Anthony responded with a low groan. "Will you come over now. Come over and pound me good?" Lisa was almost pleading. "And I need you to bring condoms. I'm off the pill."

Anthony sat up a little, his cock flopping down to smack me in the forehead. I pulled off his nuts and began to lick again at the shaft. "Condoms are another thing I don't do. Be real clear about that..."

Lisa's response cut him off, "Oh, you don't DO condoms? Well, then you better be ready to pull out."

"You have got to be kidding me. I drop my load when I feel like it. I might pull out if I want to cream your sweet face. But you get a plan and then work it, and condoms ain't no plan." He paused for a moment, as I purposefully took him deep into my throat. I was looking for his eyes as I took him completely, pausing at the root, but he didn't connect to my gaze. I pulled off as he continued. "Of course, if you're worried about getting knocked up, there's another way..."

"Don't even say it, Anthony." Lisa's tone was warning, just shy of playful.

"Baby, let me dirt road you..."

"Fuck you, you asshole..."

"Exactly. Asshole is what I'm talking about. Yours and how tight it would be. You know I like a tight, hot hole. Why won't you give me your ass? I'll be slow and gentle. I think you'll like it, and I know I will..."

"Whatever, Anthony. But I'm so hot and so horny right now. Can I please come over and will you please fuck me and scratch this itch?"

"I'd really like that, bitch. Except you called about a half-hour too late. But I'll come over and do you tomorrow. You finish yourself off tonight and I'll dick you so you can't walk tomorrow night." Anthony started to laugh as he said this. Lisa's reaction was quite the opposite. She called him almost every name I could imagine. Obscenities reverberated throughout the patio area until Anthony cut her off, "See you tomorrow bitch. I can't wait to feel your sweet ass on my cock."

With a press of a button, the distraction of Lisa was gone. Gripping my head tightly, Anthony pulled me up and down his shaft a few times, pumping with his hips before I felt the first spurts of a gigantic load begin to fill my mouth. His rough handling made meaningful suction impossible, and his sperm and my saliva drooled down his shaft into his bush and onto his balls and my hand. Releasing my head, he fell back relaxed. I held his cock in my mouth for a few minutes as it softened slightly, and then released it as I began to lick up the parts of his load that had escaped.

If you'd like another installment, please let me know at matthew_lake@yahoo.com or AOL IM me at matthewlake309. It's really motivating to get an email, even if it's just a single line. I respond to every email, and will also add your address to an email list I keep to notify you of the posting of additional chapters. You can find other stories I've written in the prolific authors section of the nifty archive. Thanks again for reading!