All the usual disclaimers apply. The following story is fictional. None of the events depicted are based on real life events. If you are in an area where it is illegal for you to read this story, please do not do so. These characters are not using protection because they are not real, but you are and you should.
This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal or private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. Any comments, whether positive or negative, are appreciated. Send email to scmoore2009@gmail.com.
One quick note: Thanks to everyone who has sent their comments and feedback. It's been nice hearing from everyone about how they like the story and how they'd like it to progress. This will be a shorter chapter, since I didn't have a whole lot of time to write over the holiday weekend, but longer ones are coming, since this one sets up quite a turn of events.
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Rusty couldn't really concentrate on the game he was covering, which didn't bode well for the story he would be writing about it afterward. He couldn't stop thinking about what had happened earlier that day, getting tag-teamed by the football team's starting linebacker and quarterback. The constant reminder of the event was that T.J. and Jason were sitting right across the field from the press section, and he couldn't really keep from looking right at them.
Just when he was starting a real relationship with Chase...just when he was starting to get comfortable with the idea of coming out and being public about who he is...and just when he was starting his new job in his new town, this football player had to make it all complicated. And it wasn't just complicated because of the sex. It was complicated because Rusty felt something for T.J. that was deeper than just a need for cock. And as far as he knew, T.J.'s feelings were no deeper than that. He had similar feelings for Chase, and he knew those feelings were reciprocal. But for some reason, he'd been willing to toss that aside when T.J. called that afternoon. And that kept bugging him as the soccer game wound to a close, and he rushed to his car to avoid a run-in with his football friends.
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That Friday, he had dinner with Chase at the same place they'd gone the night they'd first hooked up. They still hadn't fucked yet, but Rusty was pretty sure that would be changing sooner rather than later. It had been a few weeks, things had gotten pretty hot and heavy, and he and Chase were very into each other - as far as Chase could tell. They went back to Rusty's apartment and put in a movie, though neither really saw much beyond the opening credits. They started making out, and before long Chase was on his knees with Rusty's dick in his mouth.
Chase could feel Rusty's body responding to what he was doing, and pulled himself back up off the ground. He pulled Rusty up from the couch and lead him toward the bedroom. He pushed Rusty back onto the bed, and pulled off his shirt. Rusty did the same before Chase climbed on top of him and started kissing him, deep and passionately, just like he had in the frat house on that fateful game day. Chase was grinding on him, and could still feel Rusty's body responding to every move he made underneath him. He reached down and undid Rusty's belt and pants, allowing Rusty to push them off and reciprocate. Chase took Rusty's cock in his hand and jerked him a couple times, eliciting a low moan from Rusty's lips.
"Russ, I want you inside me," he said, matter-of-factly.
Rusty didn't answer, choosing instead to reach behind him and open the drawer to the bedside table. He pulled out a bottle of lube and popped it open. He was usually the bottom in these situations, but how could he turn down Chase when he had been so clear about what he wanted?
Chase rolled off of him onto his back and kicked off his boxers. Rusty greased up his cock and got up between Chase's knees. He squeezed some more lube onto his fingers, and pushed Chase's legs forward, gaining access to his asshole. He ran his finger around it first, and Chase shivered a bit. He pushed his finger in, like T.J. had done to him so many times, and started finger-fucking him. Chase's body started rocking, matching the rhythm of Rusty's finger, and Rusty pushed another finger in as well. Chase was moaning and grunting and breathing hard.
"Quit teasing me, dude. I want your cock."
Rusty, still anxious to follow Chase's demands, acceded and lowered Chase's legs a bit to line his asshole up with his crotch. He put his cockhead up to Chase's ass and gently pushed in. Chase let out another guttural grunt, and looked into Rusty's eyes. Rusty leaned down and kissed him, inching the rest of his cock into Chase's ass as he massaged Chase's tongue with his own. For some reason, though, when he opened his eyes and started pulling in and out, he kept imagining that it was T.J.'s face he was looking into. That it was T.J. grunting, breathing hard, moaning and telling him to fuck him harder, deeper and to keep hitting that one spot. All of the frustration of the situation he was in was getting taken out on T.J., as Rusty, usually the submissive bottom, turned the tables on him and fucked him like he'd never fucked anyone before.
Chase was furiously jerking himself off, as Rusty's cock pistoned in and out of him, causing waves of pleasure to ripple through him. He was getting close, and he could tell Rusty was too.
"Oh god," Rusty yelled. "Oh god, here I come. Oh, T.J." He blew a huge load into Chase's ass.
"What, what?" Chase asked, scurrying across the bed and away from Rusty. Rusty was on his knees, with a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.
Chase's dick had gone soft, and Rusty knew he had made a huge mistake.
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T.J. was home that night. The next day was a game day, and he was supposed to report to the locker room at the stadium bright and early, so nothing crazy was on his agenda. As he sat watching TV, he felt his cock start to harden under his gym shorts, and images of Rusty's ass came to mind as he jerked it a couple times through the fabric. And of Rusty's smile. And of the drawl that he spoke with. T.J. shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the weird feelings that kept crawling into it whenever he jerked off now. He scrolled through his phone, looking for a number he could call for a girl that would come blow him or something. None of them interested him as he kept scrolling, and when he got to the end of the list, he decided he might as well just go to bed. He jacked off first, though, exclaiming, "Aw, yeah, Rusty," as he came.
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More chapters coming soon. Please send comments, questions, and critiques to scmoore2009@gmail.com. Thanks.