Kent 10
When a boisterous neighbor with an 8 AM class woke me, Jason was nowhere to be seen. He hadn't been back to his bed during the night. The same papers and junk were still there from the night before. I flipped onto my back and replayed the highlights of the previous hours. The pleasure of cramming Jason into the mound of pillows in the corner was still fresh in my mind. I never had even thought of it, much less fantasized about it. Then I was doing it.
I reasoned that what I liked most was having a guy like Jason was the surprise. In all honesty he was going to have only a handful, maybe only one, such story stored away in some private place in his mind. He got to try getting fucked. I got to do it.
Jason stepped through the door and saw me sprawled out, emerging slowly from the sheets. His ever-present bathrobe was tied tightly around him.
"Would you take that silly thing off? I like seeing you naked, Jason, and I'm really tired of the robe." I rubbed my eyes and sat up expectantly. I got to see, once again, the curious spectacle of a skinny kid putting on some unremarkable white Jockeys underneath a well-worn bathrobe.
"Not even a peek?" I asked. "I thought you were horny in the mornings." I really wanted to verbally pry that rag off him and get him to strip for me.
My hopes rose as Jason undid the chastity knot that fused the robe to his waist and turned towards me. With one motion he brushed open the robe and pushed down his underwear just enough to expose the base of his dick. Sure enough, I recognized it.
"My ass hurts." With that, his elastic was back up like some cheap Venetian blinds. Jason continued. "That's all you get." I fell backwards onto the bed and sighed.
He had his jeans nearly secured when he stopped and looked at me. The sudden absence of fabric rustling made me look up to see what was coming next.
"But, uh, thanks." Jason said. "I guess I kinda wanted to try, uh..."
"You're welcome, and shut up about it," I said to the ceiling. "I knew." I didn't, of course. "And it's our private pleasure, just you and me." More horseshit, but it's what he wanted to hear. Never believe anything you hear in from someone in bed.
He slipped out the door with a smile. I set about to starting my day. The only part that mattered was Mike's invitation for Kent and I to have a beer with him. I put a few sets of the photos Jason had developed in an envelope in case I wanted a preview.
Happy Hour dragged itself out of bed around 4:30. Kent was waiting by the back porch of his frat as I wandered up.
"You going to drive, or is it my turn?" I asked with a smirk. "I think it is my turn."
The stud didn't even need to acknowledge the question. All he had to do was put on a tight Polo shirt and leave his cap far enough back so that the sun found some of his short blond hair and illuminated his eyes. The eyes that had drawn me to him early on could still stop me cold. He looked me square in the face and said nothing. His magic was working again.
He grew a slight grin. "Just get in, okay?" I swear he intentionally missed his pocket when going for his keys, only to back his hand away and dive into the opening on the second pass. His tight jeans conformed to the contour of his hand as he dove down into the pocket. The ridge formed by his knuckles worked against the tense cotton. He noticed I was watching, and after a moment's pause plunged his hand downwards hard enough to strain the button on his beltless waist. I was delighted with the show.
"There's a gym towel in the back if you need it," Kent said. "What makes you so horny today."
Just you, I thought to myself. Instead I said something about the prospect of having a few beers with the two hottest jocks around. If Kent had been apprehensive about meeting Mike to go over his photography, it wasn't showing now. Kent was a real sucker for hot talk and compliments. It turned me on to see him relish it.
"What do you have in the envelope?" Kent asked. We waited to turn left off the side street that ran by his frat and dead-ended into my dorm.
"Just a letter," I responded. Not wanting to pursue it further, I shifted to the meeting. "Did you and Mike chat and set up some elaborate trick for tonight?"
"You're enough of a trick for both of us, as we know." Kent looked only ahead as we sped down the street towards the Campustown area, and right past it. "I'm in suspense as much as you are as to what Mike is up to, but I'm sure it's something. We know Mike."
Kent pulled into the parking lot of a distressed looking bar across town from the school. The neon sign announced its message in pale blue against the daylight: The Usual.
"Did he pull this out of the phone book?" I mused aloud.
"Got me. At least we have the place to ourselves." Kent replied. We did. After an awkward twenty minutes, Mike arrived.
"Hi guys!" Mike swung himself onto the bench next to me, facing Kent. "Guess what I've got!"
"Beer. I want a beer." Kent swung his eyes away from Mike and towards the bar. Whatever bravado I'd worked on in the car was totally gone. How funny it was that Kent, who made sure plenty of guys had seen pictures of his dick probing me from one end or another, was squirming with the tables turned.
"You aren't 21. They check here. I'll be back with a beer for me and two Cokes." Mike said as he strode off. The paper packet of photos was still in his jacket pocket.
When Mike set the drinks down, he took his time in settling himself. He picked up his glass and held it so that he could see the underside of the foamy surface. Condensation was collecting in large droplets around the glass. The bar was quiet, but his observation seemed a stretch to me.
"Listen to that. Little bubbles jumping out of the way. It's such a beautiful thing for just a buck." He swallowed, which resolved into a smile. "Anticipation is the best part."
Mike raised the glass to his lips. "I'll let you have some after I have had the first taste."
I bit into the cherry that had been floating in my Coke.
"Oh fuck it! Here. These are for you to split up anyway you like," Mike said as he tossed the packet onto the table. "I have a complete set for myself, of course."
I grabbed the photos and stripped away the envelope. "Whoa!" Unlike the first time I'd seen myself on paper, the first picture delighted me. It was a face shot of me from the side, meat stuffed into my mouth, absolutely drenched in cum. Next came a similar shot, but with Kent's meat on the tip of my tongue. A large glob of jism glistened from just above my jaw.
I set the two photos out in front of Kent, who mumbled his approval. Following were half a dozen shots of Kent or Mike posing above me, as if claiming credit for the copious amounts of semen on my face. As I recall, it was my own and Kent's.
"Jocks shoot the biggest loads," I said. "Look at all that!"
"Everybody knows that," added another voice. Kent jumped, and made an attempt to clear the table before he recognized our guest.
"Hey, Marcus! Sit down and join us. We were just talking about a little party we all had." Mike motioned next to Kent.
"Think I will do just that. Long time no see, Kent." Marcus sat down and reached over, below the cover of the table, and patted Kent's thigh or thereabouts.
I realized who this was. In the heat of our evening, Kent let it out that someone named Marcus had given him a lesson in cocksucking. Without this, he might never have yielded to Mike. I'd also learned that this was the same Marcus was expecting to enter pro baseball. There was plenty of speculation in the school paper about which team would want him the most.
Marcus was appealing, but not nearly as hot in my book as either Kent or Mike. He was tall, muscular and solid, and handsome to be sure. Yet it didn't instantly add up in a way that made me look across a room and want him on his terms. He did have the voice, though. He sounded so deep and manly, certainly as expected from such a formidable guy. How had he gotten to Kent? Maybe Kent idolized him for his success, but that wasn't how he told the story earlier. At the table, I wasn't getting the impression that Kent liked Marcus a whole lot. Before I ran though any more of this, Marcus extended a hand to me.
"And I have heard a bit about you. Nice to finally see you in person." Marcus' handshake could shame a car salesman. I was willing to reconsider my first impression when he flashed a broad smile at me.
"Likewise. So you're Marcus." I smiled and looked at Kent, then back at him.
"Get on with the party pictures. This one is great." Marcus held up one of Mike standing behind me, rubbing his hard member across my left cheek. "I like how you guys party."
We flipped though about a dozen that were all pretty much the same. Mike and Kent had gotten into posing as the dominant studs, prodding me with their pricks. There was a remarkable close-up of Mike's shaft tracing up my nose as he pushed his balls against my lips.
"I'm enjoying this a lot, if you know what I mean." Marcus shifted on the bench as he studied each photo carefully.
"And we have saved the best for last." I spun one of the two remaining photos onto the table. It landed facing Kent. In this carefully composed shot, he was on his knees and turned slightly towards the camera. Mike stood before him with a semi. It was unclear whether he was about to get head from Kent, or whether he'd blown his load already and was starting to relax. The last photo was similar, with a fuller view of Kent's face and a better smile from a recently satisfied Mike. As I recall, Kent posed for these in exchange for Mike promising to deny, to others at least, that he ever fucked Kent.
"Yeah, now that's my boy Kent. You did tell them about sucking me to orgasm, right?" Marcus asked Kent in a way that expected an answer.
"Yes, Marcus. Both the guys to share that honor are here right now," Kent admitted. I saw Marcus move his hand back to his own lap.
"Maybe we should explain the rules to you," Marcus said.
"Please do," I said. I was intensely curious as the others exchanged glances but no words.
"Since you come with such good recommendations, you can consider joining our party list. It's a group that I select. Every once in a while we get together for either an initiation of a new member or just an overnight together. Want to hear more?"
"Yeah, tell me about it," I replied. "I like it so far."
As Kent scooped up the pictures, Marcus continued. "I started by selecting a few guys and getting them to at least suck me. Then one night I invited them all over at once and had them all recount what they had done, covering every detail for the entertainment of the others. By the time the storytelling was over, everyone had shot their wads at least once. Hearing all these jocks come clean was a turn on for everyone there. We got together a few days later to have some more fun. Now the group grows when any of us finds a hot guy who is willing to play our game and join the club. Of course, once you're in you have an instant circle of buddies. We all take good care of each other."
Kent was exchanging looks with Mike, which caused Marcus to tailor his story. "Kent was one of the original members. Mike is an old friend of mine. I tried to get him to join, but he won't pay the dues.
"Which are..?" I asked.
"I'll tell you while you suck my dick." Marcus leaned back as he said this, fingers intertwined behind his tightly curled dark hair. "Since these men tell me that you like cocksucking, that shouldn't be a problem, right?"
I didn't answer.
"Mike is like me in that we don't service other guys. Other guys do it for us. I can respect that. Kent knows when he's outgunned and when he's not. That's good too. And as for you..." Marcus paused and polished off his own beer before continuing. "Kent tells me you like baseball a lot." Marcus produced a cap from under the table. Waving it, he continued. "You'll see me on a televised game someday, and say to yourself how you got to blow me when I was still just a hot college player. You like that?" He put the cap loosely on his head.
I did like the idea, and the others knew it. "Sure. That's hot." I said. My voice quivered a bit on the last word, and I felt my own meat move in my pants. I wondered if Marcus had only a blowjob in mind, or if that was only act one. He did seem to know plenty about me from Kent, though not everything about Mike. I brought back my memorized image of Mike on his knees, in the basement of Kent's frat. I could imagine Marcus next in line, and imagine seeing Mike go down, choking and resisting, on Marcus.
"Thought so." Marcus yanked me out of my daydream. I was to be the one choking on his meat. "Go towards the can but turn right at the last door. It's a storeroom I've used before. I'll be there in a couple of minutes. Let him out, Mike."
As I made my way down the corridor, my heart raced. I felt lightheaded, and thought that my circle of buddies was growing faster than I could control it. Kent, Kent and Jim, then Mike and Kent, now Marcus while the other two waited, and then what? A whole room of guys? It all came back to Kent. He kept making sure I met his buddies on their terms.
I swerved to the right and entered a small room. Empty kegs lined one wall. Crates of bottles were stacked up by the door. As my eyes adjusted, I ventured further back into the room. It was small and unlit, though I wasn't sure how deep it was.
I stepped forward and kicked a case of empties. As they clattered, I heard a zipper coming undone. Marcus was behind me. I turned around. His large frame blocked most of the weak light from the doorway. As he moved forward, he opened his windbreaker. The V-neck of his practice jersey came into view. The name of our school was draped across it.
Marcus grabbed me by the wrists and pulled my hands down to his waist. I latched on just above his belt and settled to my knees. We stayed motionless like this for most of a minute. Marcus was taking slow, deep breaths. He had his head tilted slightly backwards, appearing as if he was psyching himself up for his performance.
Abruptly, he took a partial step forward and spread his feet apart. My attention returned to his crotch, now inches from my nose. His unzipped fly bowed open, retained at the top by a single button. The large belt buckle had already been undone.
I slid my hands in along his belt, pausing only to trace the trail of hair which engulfed his navel on its way south. He would be my first hairy man, a departure from the others. He was also much darker than the other guys. I'd guess Cuban, or Puerto Rican. Maybe both. He was all stud in any case.
I tugged at the button. His pants collapsed partially, cascading down under the weight of his belt. They were still bound around his solid thighs. As I eased them lower, I felt the firmness and power of his legs. His silk boxers were tenting before me as I freed them from behind his pants.
Now I paused. I ran my nose along the seam of his fly. Carefully I traced the seam up and back, rubbing my nose against his hot flesh.
"You've got half an hour to cut that out," Marcus said in a way that made me want to beg for overtime. His body smelled slightly funky, as if the gym shower had been superficial. The scent of honest sweat rose out from the stale beer smell of the storeroom. I was nervous about taking so much hair and sweat into my mouth, but I wouldn't back out now for anything. Was this how Kent felt, as he prepared his mouth for Marcus?
An image of Marcus mouth-fucking Kent came to mind, along with Marcus' comment about Kent knowing when he was outgunned. I don't think it meant dick. Kent loved his game, but Marcus was going to live it. That's what made Kent consent to sucking dick. He wanted to taste a man who would turn pro. So did I.
Marcus was now straining against his boxers. He had continued to harden as I prepared for him. With the slightest nudge, his rocket poked out of the fly of his boxers. I misjudged to distance and felt the heat of his dickhead pressing against my chin. As I pushed back, I felt a tiny droplet on my skin. I opened my mouth to take him in.
"Wider," Marcus said. "Whatever you are doing won't be enough."
I opened my mouth as far as I could, and teetered forward in the darkness. The blunt tip of his member grazed across my tongue. I closed my lips around the corona of his head. He was right. I'd been preparing for Kent, and that would not have been enough.
"See. I told you," Marcus said. "Is it bigger than Mike's?"
I would not disappoint. "Yeah." I licked his cum slit.
"I know, I just like to hear it again and again." Marcus said as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"Bet Kent went wild for you when he saw how big you are." I kept up the praise.
"He doesn't respect a bigger man like you do. I had to push him a little. You know how to suck it right, I hear." Marcus said with an edge on his voice.
I went for it, taking as much of his shaft as I could. The sweaty smell was coming from his balls, and I pushed towards them. I started bobbing up and down his shaft, causing him to gyrate his hips slightly and roll his cock around my mouth.
"They said you'd suck me good, and they were right. Kent has told me about your adventures all along. I like how Kent set you up with Jim and double-teamed you in the locker room. That was sly. I have copies of the pictures from the frat room. And guess what else." Marcus looked down over his forearms.
"And Kent gave you the video." I said as I looked up at his face.
"Yeah, that's right." Marcus freed his right hand and grasped his member. He started brushing it against my face, less pounding it like Kent favored than smearing his head over every inch of my forehead, cheeks, lips, and jaw. "He ought to keep a buddy like you to himself, but I am glad he doesn't."
Marcus paused for a moment, and then sprouted a small grin. "You cock sucker," he said. "Bet you can't wait to try it all."
I just remained still, kneeling before him in the dark room, until he eased my head downward and between his thighs. He closed his strong legs around me, pressing hard against my ears and jaw.
Marcus rubbed the spit, and possibly precum, from his cock into my hair. I'd never been held down like this. As he took a few strokes of his own, I thought that I was sure to be taking it in the shorts any moment. He'd bend me over a keg or stack of empty cases, and fuck me in the beer closet in this stinking bar. Later I'd limp back to the table and endure the knowing looks of the guys who had shared the pleasure. They'd keep me there for an hour, freely discussing how I had satisfied them.
Just as I had resigned to taking a fuck, Marcus let me out from between his thighs. The tiny, dank room seemed like a summer garden compared to the vice of his thighs. As if to thank him for releasing me, I went back to gliding up and down his shaft. I couldn't play with his dick inside my mouth as it filled the cavity so completely. I tried to ring his corona with my tongue, but he rarely pulled out that far for long. I was not able to deliver my usual pleasures, but Marcus did not seem to mind. We settled into a rhythm pleasing to both of us.
"Let's test your gag." Marcus said as he placed both hands behind my head. I let him guide me forward, onto his stiff manhood. I tried to relax, wanting to take as much of this stud as I could. I was already planning to brag about this one. I held my breath as his cockhead closed off the back of my throat. There was no question of it going further. A moment later, I choked.
"Not bad," said Marcus. "With practice, you'll improve. Now work my nuts while I tell you about our initiation game."
As his pubic hair closed around my cheeks and nose, I took Marcus' ball bag into my mouth. Both testicles fit if I sucked firmly. I wanted to be gentle, but vigorous enough to pull them fully in. Marcus' shaft extended well past my right ear as he began his explanation. I listened carefully, caressing his sperm makers as he talked. He stroked himself as he related the rules of his game. When he got to the last of the details, he pumped himself harder.
"You like it?" he asked as he stroked wildly.
"Yeah, I'm in," I answered.
Marcus pulled his balls from my mouth. "Open up," he said through clenched teeth. He picked up the pace on his shaft. His careless velocity allowed his penis to slip out of my hungry mouth. As I bounced into my collarbone, I had time for a few lusty words.
"Spray it on me! Shower me with your cum!" As I spoke I looked into his face, earnestly asking the ball jock to initiate me into his group of personal fans.
"You got it...kid." Marcus arched his back and held onto my shoulders. His penis pointed right at my chin as the first discharge hit.
"Oh!" My exclamation left my open mouth in line with his second spurt. It sailed between my teeth and splashed along my tongue. I made a gurgle that delighted Marcus. His third delivery splashed over my forehead and into my hair.
Subsequent cum shots, and there were several pulsations from his dick, piled into my shirt as Marcus forced his meat downwards. With his other hand, he rubbed his jism over my face and into my hair. A few times, he collected wads of his cream on a finger and presented it to my lips. I sucked the cum from his digits.
"Let's go into the can. I want to see what a mess I have made of you."
As I stepped out into the hallway, Kent and Mike were waiting.
"We get to check it out too!" Mike said.
All four of us piled into the tiny mens room. It was brightly lit, compared to the hallway. As Marcus admired his work, the other two complimented him on the amount and placement of his cum.
"I wish I had loads like that!" Kent offered.
Marcus had positioned himself against the lone stall wall, next to the partially open door. His impressive penis, still mostly erect, spilled over the band of his boxers. Kent brushed me over so that I was standing in the doorway. I caught a glimpse of some graffiti about cocksucking as I turned back towards Mike. The camera flashed.
"You guys!" It was all I could say, and they laughed. I consented to a few poses with Marcus, one with spent organ in mouth, then one with me between Kent and Mike. The sperm pools on my shirt had darkened into obvious blotches. Marcus had come like two guys might, so the photos would suggest I'd handled them both. The experience had left me so turned on, and in need of coming myself, that I would have. The others, though, seemed intent on leaving.
Just before Mike opened the door, Marcus called for him to wait. He handed me a felt tip pen.
"Write your name, right under Ryan's."
I did, and so joined the list under the title "Cocksuckers Club."
Don't just sit there with a hard-on, send me some email. just4funboy@yahoo.com