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All the usual disclaimers that are usual apply here. This is a work of fiction involving sex acts between consenting persons of various conditions of life. If you can't handle that or if you are not of the legal age or mindset, go no further but remove this material from your possession forthwith.
If you have faggot sensitivity, you ought not read this story. I'd really like to hear from some of you with either positive or negative comments. I have no idea really if I'm bringing any of you pleasure or what it is you'd like me to write about. I only hear from a few people on each story and that's not much feedback for all the work I put into writing these. I'd really like to hear from you so I'll have some idea how I'm doing. Thanks.
I used two returns between paragraphs to simplify formatting for you.
Try to keep in mind that while 78 is not the meaning of life, it is the only possible solution. Jon
No Running by Jon Hold jonhold@eudoramail.com
Chapter 10 Football Balls Ball
Mind wandering, thoughts flowing easily from Neil to Tommy to Hank, the other guys he'd met tonight, the changes in his life these last few weeks, the coach, swimming and life in general. The smaller candles had burned out and only a few larger candles and one candle in a red glass vase were burning. Buddy liked the calm the dim light brought and was startled when a voice came out of nowhere. "Hi. Is it okay if I come in." the voice asked tentatively.
"Sure!" Buddy said, getting up and putting his hand out to shake.
An amorphous darkness glided out of the entryway and Buddy's hand seemed to suddenly disappear. He was about to scream for Neil when his eyes finally found their focus and Buddy realized that he was looking at the largest person he'd ever seen. That the person was coal black did nothing to help Buddy distinguish his outline from the darkness behind him.
"Wow! That's spooky the way you just appeared out of the darkness like that!"
The guy let go of Buddy's hand and said, "That's okay. I can take off if you want me too. Don't worry, I'll tell the other guys everything's cool."
Puzzled, Buddy backed up and sat down on the bed. "What are you talking about?"
"Hey, it's cool. Some guys just don't feel like spending time with a black dude. Don't worry about it." With that, the guy started to turn and leave.
"Jeeze!" Buddy said. "I don't even know your name yet and you're pissed off because I won't marry you and have twenty-seven kids by you!"
The guy stopped, and then moved forward into the light surrounding the bed, glowering down at Buddy.
They stayed like that, the black giant towering over Buddy until the much smaller man said, "Well? You going to kill me, breed me or run home to your mommy?"
The guy seemed to swell up. Great lumps of muscle bulging out all over the place. His bones and joints creaking and groaning from the pressure. Buddy's eyes got really big and then the giant leaned backwards and the walls, floor and bed all shook from his deep booming laughter.
Buddy sighed and mentally wiped the sweat off his brow. This was going to work out all right. He finally managed to slip between thunder rolls of laughter and said, "You going to sit down and introduce yourself, or what?"
The guy moved closer and looked down at Buddy before sitting down. "Now I understand what Neil meant."
Suddenly wary, Buddy asked, "Neil? What did he say to you?"
The bed sank down deeply under the huge man as he sat down. He put out his hand and picked up Buddy's, shaking it again. "Hi. I'm Jason. Neil just told me that if I got into trouble, all I had to do was yell and he'd come save me. Now I see why."
"That shit!" Buddy said indignantly.
That's all it took. Jason fell backwards onto the bed, roaring with laughter. Buddy, highly incensed at this cavalier treatment jumped on top of the massive hulk and started tickling him mercilessly. Jason, a basically gentle person, tried to defend himself, but was laughing too hard to fend off the infuriated little daemon. He finally managed to roll over on top of the much smaller boy so that his weight pretty much stopped Buddy's attacks, although one hand was still trying to get swinging room to punch him in the side.
"Kings X?" Jason asked.
Unable to escape or do much to fight back, Buddy reluctantly agreed, "Okay. King's X. But I'm going to get Neil later!"
Jason rolled off the squashed boy. "Not my problem. But I'm going to warn Neil. You're dangerous the way you attack all out like that!"
Buddy looked Jason all over. Up and down, side to side, with a healthy pause to check out his groin. The guy had to be at least six-eight (6' 8 & 3/4" Jason told him later) and probably weighed in at about 2,000 pounds (355 wearing a jock strap. Only 354 & 9/10ths without it, according to Jason). "How do you know Neil?" Buddy asked.
"We grew up together and we're on the football team together."
"What do you do on the football team?"
"I'm a lineman."
Buddy looked him over carefully before answering that one. "You look like the fucking Green Bay Packers defensive line to me!" he said.
Jason laughed self-consciously at that, rubbing his flat pink palm across the dusky flatness of his chest. "Yeah. Well, some people say I'm pretty big."
Buddy reached up and, with the same ease Jason had shown, rubbed his hand across the crepe feeling duskiness covering the steel-plate hardness of the underlying muscles. His hand bumped across the high relief of Jason's six-pack and then returned to the broad expanse of chest, taking one of the dark nipples between thumb and forefinger. "No SHIT!" Buddy said in awe.
Buddy played with Jason's tit and looked him over again, amazed at the sheer size of this person. Jason just seemed bigger than life everywhere, except between his legs. What was down there would have looked perfectly normal on a regular sized person, but on Jason it looked ridiculously small. Three or four inches of chubby loose flesh with a dark sack that was no more than a bump on the Bunyanesque thighs. Buddy felt immature sitting against this gentle giant, reaching up to touch him as if he were a small child discovering the parts of his fathers body. Entranced, Buddy leaned up against the hardness of Jason's body and felt the weight of a Brobdingnagian arm settle around his shoulders as he continued to play with the fascinating nubbin of dark flesh.
"You don't mind that I'm black?"
"Should I?" Buddy asked, genuinely curious.
"Well, some people do."
Buddy thought this over, idly playing with the points now sticking out of Jason's chest. Looking up, feeling even more like a small child being held in the crux of an adults arm, Buddy mused, half to himself, "I don't know, Jason. The only other black person I know is in my History class, and I really don't know him all that well."
"Little guy, trying to grow a goatee?"
"Well, maybe he's little to you. But yeah, he's got a cute little goatee."
Jason laughed. "That's my baby brother. Me and my brothers call him 'The Runt'."
Buddy tweaked Jason's tit, hard! "That's not nice!" He exclaimed.
"Ouch!!!" Jason cried out, bending over and covering Buddy's hand with his big paw. "Hey! That hurts!"
"Did ya ever think that maybe you hurt your little brother calling him something like that?" Buddy asked, giving Jason's tit a real pinch and twist.
Jason sucked air, holding Buddy's punishing hand hard against his chest. "Ooooow, Wow!" he sucked between his teeth.
Buddy looked down and saw that Jason was getting turned on by having his tits played with. Grinning like a mischievous child, Buddy tweaked the tit even harder.
Jason hummed deep in his throat and held Buddy's hand even tighter to his chest. His prick had come up stiff, pulling the hood about half-way off the shapely cockhead, exposing the nose and a glinting rivulet of fuck-lube. "Want to hear something funny?" he gasped.
"What?" Buddy asked as he looked directly into Jason's eyes, grinned and tweaked the hell out of the now tender tit.
Jason sucked air between his teeth. "You keep that up, you're going to end up in trouble!" Jason gasped out between his teeth.
Buddy looked down at what looked to be about seven inches of hardness, pulsing out gout after gout of slippery goo that runneled down the darkly threatening shaft to pool in the crux of Jason's powerful thighs. Looking obviously back up to Jason, "You think so!" he said hopefully.
"Yeah, I do. Now, do you want to hear about my brother, or not."
"Well, if you're not going to do anything better..."
Laughing again, Jason shook his head. "Damn, boy! Now I know why everyone who's been up here with you is so eager to see you again. I ain't been this hot and bothered in years, and we ain't done nothing but sit here and talk."
"Who's fault is that?"
Suddenly serious, Jason pondered Buddy. "Mine." he finally said.
Moving his arm up, Jason trapped Buddy's head in the bend of his elbow to support the boy's head. Slowly, giving Buddy plenty of time to escape if he wanted too, Jason leaned forward, his lips parting slightly as he reached for a kiss.
Buddy watched, mesmerized as the giant man made his move. Soft lips like velvet cushions filled with eider down covered his and a darting tongue tip touched his own lips. With a deep moan of his own, Buddy let go of Jason's tit and reached both arms up around Jason's neck, holding on for dear life as he let Jason open his mouth and make his first tentative exploration of Buddy's insides. Dizzy with lust, Buddy barely noticed when Jason laid him down on his back. Jason laying on his side next to the recumbent heat of Buddy's body as he leaned across to continue the kiss while his free hand began exploring Buddy's much smaller, but very nearly perfect body. This boy was too beautiful to believe. And that he wanted, was willing to share himself had Jason earnestly hoping for more. Buddy was praying that he would take it.
Jason couldn't believe how turned on he was getting. The contrast between Buddy's lightly tanned golden body and his own dark duskiness fascinated him. No way was Buddy a sissy or nellie acting. He was as much man as anyone Jason knew. Jason wasn't sure how Buddy could let other men do what they did to him, what Jason wanted to do to him, but it didn't change the fact that the kid was pure stud, all man, and as eagerly sexual as any man he'd ever know. Neil was one lucky guy!
The kissing went on for thirty-five years, give or take a century --- or at least Buddy thought so. He'd never had anyone kiss him so good and he wanted it to never end. Jason didn't seem that reluctant to agree, kissing Buddy better and better with every passing aeon.
Jason carefully, exactingly explored ever surface, every nook and cranny of Buddy's well built body. Becoming more and more turned on by the boy's physical perfection, openness and willingness to share himself. He readily spread his legs when Jason wanted to explore between them and effortlessly lifted his knees when Jason wanted to finger-fuck him. There was nothing feminine about Buddy, but Jason had never been with a woman who responded to him so fully, completely and eagerly. Passion blossomed, overwhelming both willing students with a need for each other so all-encompassing that neither had any chance of backing away from what was happening, and what was about to happen.
There was no frantic urgency Jason realized. This wasn't like when he was with women and his main emotion was fear that they would back out and leave him aching. Buddy was there for the duration, be what may. Jason knew this without asking. His new lover was every bit as much in need of him as he was of the smaller man-boy. Deeply soul-kissing his partner, Jason amazed himself with how willing the kid was to open himself completely to Jason's explorations. The more Jason finger-fucked the twisting form, the hotter and more eager Buddy seemed to get.
Three fingers were driven by muscles strong enough to crush a football. Prodding, pushing, deeply penetrating and twisting. Slow, measured, mastering manipulations by a stud herding his sex partner into position, into thought, into feeling, into whatever was commanded, demanded, ...desired.
Nails bit into Jason's neck. Into his back. Tissue convulsed, cracking finger joints, popping knuckles as lithe body arched, strained, spasmed.
Flying lava splattered both bodies. Burning. Setting all aflame. Jason felt himself held. Taken. Moved into position. Encompassed in a flaming hell so hot his entire body convulsed in its turn. Driving. Twisting. Humping. Hunching. Driven wild. No thought for the fragility of his partner. Taking and being taken. Full weight active on top of the corded muscles contorting beneath him. Air a spittle spraying between clenched teeth as sweat poured from the sexually fevered bodies slamming together with all the power and force their inhabitants could shepherd into action.
Convulsing. Screaming. Bellowing as he buried his head in the bedding and strong white teeth buried themselves in iron hard neck muscles. Lost... shattered... torn into a myriad fragile pieces spinning away into glory. Memory scattering... 'Now I lay me down... "The lord is my... Jason, you get in here right... Boy! You better not... Yes, Daddy. Can I go now?...' 'Life?' Jason wondered. 'Am I alive? IS this? What is this? Where...?'
Arched in a half-circle. Clutching Buddy to him. Being clutched by Buddy. Breath! I must breath. Breathe. Breathe! BREATHE!!!!
Gasping for air. Crying out in pain, agony too wonderful to leave, in joy, need, satiation, want, fulfillment...
Collapsing in confusion. Crying. Overwhelmed by the loss of such ephemeral completeness... Jason passed out as Buddy rolled them to their sides and, legs wrapped around the waist of the black titan, held them together in peace.
Neil looked up and saw the commanding look of his black lineman. Something in the eyes told him to be very... very quiet.
"Don't you ever hurt him! Never. I will crush you like a bug if you do. Do you understand me!"
Neil stood up. Two strong athletes hugged. Holding each other. Acknowledging each other.
"He really is something. Isn't he!"
"I don't know if he's something," Jason said, shaking his head ruefully, "but he sure as hell whipped my ass!"
Holding each other at arms length, the young studs laughed and shook their heads. Both wondering how that slip of a boy could whip the both of them, and go looking for more.
Chapter 11
A Wondrous Finish
Jason looked at Neil. "He says it's getting late. He wants you to send up the rest of the guys in a group."
Neil just looked at him.
"Do you think he can handle that?" Jason asked, concerned.
"He whipped your ass, didn't he!"
Jason laughed. A deep, belly shaking laugh of pure happiness. Throwing his arm around Neil's shoulders he said, "Yeah. But maybe the two of us ought to attend this orgy and make sure our boy doesn't bite off more than he can chew."
"I think we ought to be there." Neil said, shaking his head. "But I don't think we'll be protecting Buddy!"
Laughing, nodding his head 'Yes', Jason lead Neil off to find the rest of the guys.
Buddy's happy eagerness quickly infected the group of guys who hadn't had him yet. Those who had already had their turn joined in as spectators, enjoying themselves hugely, pointing and gossiping and comparing their friends as Buddy took one after another up his ass, into his mouth, or stimulated them with his hands and body to keep them in the game and ready. Fuck smells and lust filled the room and spectators became participants. Holes were being used, and not all of them were Buddy's. He was the catalyst. The driving force. The enticer, teacher, erudite introducer of various body parts, one to another.
The athletes had gotten together before. Had played with sex, watched each other, played with each other. But never anything like this. No-holds-barred. Nothing held back. Buddy seemed to feel a persons desire, their need, and knew no shame bending Jason over so Tommy could screw him. Never held back as he arranged for Neil to be held down so that the twins could attack and torture him with their tongues. Laughed when George, stoned with lust, tried to fuck Hank through his buttplug as he fucked Ralph's brains out.
Morning light slunk around closed drapes and illuminated a battlefield full of slain warriors sprawled hither and yon across the dark bed and soft rugs. Limbs intertwined, holding each other in final embrace, sleeping as babes sleep. Loose, replete, trusting, totally at ease. Coach would have thought all his swimmers slain were it not for the clangorous rattle of discordant snoring that filled the room with cacophonous tintinnabulation. Notably silent -- and close -- Neil had the new kid, Buddy, wrapped protectively in his arms while the smaller boy was cuddled as close as he could get to the school's best all-around athlete.
Tommy stirred and looked up, bleary-eyed, at Coach and gave him an exhausted smile. Coach gave him a quizzical look. Tommy put his finger up crossing his lips and then pointed downstairs. Coach nodded with a look on his face that meant 'Right Now!' and headed for the kitchen where he'd already plugged in the 50-pot coffee maker.
Tommy woke up Hank, who was nearest to him, and, signaling him to be quiet, they started waking up all the other guys, leaving Buddy and Neil deeply sleeping on the bed.
A gaggle of sleepy-eyed, wobbly boys staggered downstairs each stopping in shock as they got to the bottom of the stairs and saw that not only was Coach waiting for them, but Coach Balsbutzski, the football coach was sitting next to him. Neither looked real happy. Tommy got out the milk, sugar and instant cocoa and the guys got out the heavy ceramic cups and started making themselves their own favorite wake-up beverage before sitting down around the big kitchen table that filled the middle of the room.
When everyone got seated, except Danny, who was using the big continuous toaster to get breakfast started, he looked around, his displeasure evident. "I thought we had agreed that drunken bashes were out and that everyone was going to be ready for practice on Sunday mornings."
Tommy took a deep breath. Normally Neil would talk for them, but he wasn't here. "Coach. Go check the keg. That's the only one we tapped and it's hardly half-empty, and only Jason was drinking any of the hard stuff, and you know he can drink that stuff all night without getting plowed."
Coach Balsbutzski grunted and looked around, especially at his less-than- energetic looking football players. "You want to explain why you all look like you do then? ... And this better be good!"
The guys all looked at each other and then Danny, setting down another plate of buttered toast said, "Buddy."
Guys started nodding and saying. "Buddy." "Buddy!" "Yeah, Buddy!" "Buddy:-)" "Buddy8-]" "Buddy:->" "Oh, Yeah! BUDDY!"
"Buddy? What the hell does this have to do with Buddy? And why aren't he and Neil down here?"
"Calm down, Coach." Tommy said. "Everything's okay. You know that last night was Buddy's initiation?"
"Yeah. So?" Both coaches said together.
"Well. He took us ALL on!"
Guys started looking at each other and nodding in agreement. Coach looked around the table. Then, open mouthed, looked at Tommy. "All of you?"
"Yep. All of us. Didn't miss anyone. He took ALL of us on. In his mouth AND in his ass!"
"Shit!" Coach said, looking up the staircase. Silence reigned as Coach just stared up the stairs. "God! Let him sleep!"
That brought out a round of low chuckles. Danny, the butterfly champion, raised his hand. "Uh... Coach?"
"Yeah? What is it Danny-boy?" Coach said, calling Danny by his nickname.
"That's not exactly true, Coach. Buddy never sucked me, Coach. --- But he let me have his ass three times! And even after everyone else had already had his ass and I'd cum twice, it was still the best fuck I've ever had. He tore me up, Coach. He just plain tore me up."
Calls of "Nit-picker!" and "Picky bastard" and "Oh, poor baby" just barely before a deluge of toast dripping butter and jam.
Coach looked around and realized that the kids were telling him the truth. They weren't acting like they were hung over. They were just plain worn out. Coach looked at Coach Balsbutzski who just raised his eyebrows, not totally sure what was going on, but willing to let the younger coach take the lead.
Coach got up, Coach Balsbutzski getting up next to him. "You guys get something to eat and then get your asses out to the pool. You can rest up until I get out there. I'm going upstairs to make sure Buddy is still alive!"
"He is Coach. He's doing just fine!" said Jason who had just sat down with a huge plate of scrambled eggs he'd made himself. Jason spoke with all the authority of his status as a pre-med student.
"Jason," Coach said, backing away from the table, "you'd swear in a court of law that someone was alive as long as they were still warm enough to fuck!"
That brought on a round of laughter and agreeing nods as guys started getting up to start on breakfast for everyone. The refrigerator was about to be punished severely.
The two coaches quietly entered the bedroom --- and stood there watching. Neil was on top of Buddy and had obviously found the golden ring. The way his ass was moving he was searching hard for the nugget --- and Buddy was doing everything he could to help out with the search. He wasn't acting like a kid who had spent the night draining the finest collection of dicks and action packed balls on campus. Quite to the contrary, he was letting loose like a nun on Walpurgisnacht.
Both coaches watched, unblinking. Remembering. Remembering their own youth, their own passionate love partners, their own most all-encompassing sexual adventure. They both remembered, and sighed. Knowing. Knowing deep down inside of themselves that Buddy and Neil were reaching heights they had never attained. They watched. Sad. Joyful. Longing to be a part of the magic taking place before them. Without their seeming to notice, clothing began falling to the ground.
Both men stood there, naked, at attention, entranced, unable to turn their eyes from the display before them. This wasn't fucking. Not even copulating. This was love, a need for each other being shared without reserve. Each totally open to the other, to their needs and wants and making their mutual need and desire more than the sum of its parts. The power of their union heated the room and the coaches felt themselves willingly sucked into the maelstrom of lust, passion, and fulfillment. Shaking, they both watched as the boys lay side-by-side, limbs entangled, lips and fingers caressing, orgasm only a small part of what they now were.
Reluctant to break the spell that held them all entranced, Coach took a quiet step forward, drawn by a power beyond his conscious mind.
"Coach!" Buddy cried out as he looked up. He slithered out of Neil's embrace, bounded across the bed and swarmed up his coach's body, wrapping strong legs around the hard masculine waist and snuggling up against Coach with his head tucked neatly on his shoulder against his neck. "Thank you, Coach. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you."
Tentatively, hesitating, unsure --- Coach wrapped his arms around the sweating, cum-coated boy, holding the hot body against himself. Coach had already screwed his wife that morning, but suddenly aware that he hadn't been this horny in twenty years. Jeeze, but this boy was an armful of whatever it was a male most desired. Without let or hindrance, honestly, openly, totally offering himself and all he was to those he trusted.
Stunned, Coach didn't even notice Neil until the tall boy hugged both him and the limply relaxed boy in his arms. "Mornin', Coach." was all that Neil said, totally unworried about his lover being held in their coach's arms.
Not knowing what else to say, Coach blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Uh... They're getting breakfast ready downstairs."
"GOOD!" Neil said, patting Buddy's ass. "I'm starved! Make sure he cleans up before he comes downstairs, Coach."
And with that simple, trusting statement, Neil headed off to find sustenance.
Coach stood there, mouth hanging open, not knowing if he believed what was going on --- or not.
Buddy snuggled down closer against Coach's neck and a shy little voice whispered, "Who's that Coach?" Buddy had been looking over Coach's broad shoulder at the older man standing behind them. He looked like someone had taken a block of granite and roughly carved it into the shape of a man with broad, harsh strokes. Coarsely textured skin, bristly pepper-gray hair, great flat slabs of muscle plating the chunky body, powerful driveshaft jutting from between massive thighs. Buddy was impressed, but intimidated by the rough appearing man.
Startled out of his introspection, Coach looked over his shoulder to see who Buddy was talking about, having totally forgotten anyone else was in the room with them.
"Oh! Sorry." Coach said. "That's Coach Balsbutzski, the football coach. Coach Balsbutzski, this is Buddy."
Coach Balsbutzski nodded to acknowledge the introduction, but Buddy just pulled down further behind Coach's shoulder. In a tiny, little-boy voice he asked, "Does he ball little boy's butts too?"
Coach started laughing. Laughing so hard he had to sit down on the bed as Coach Balsbutzski glowered at both of them. Buddy just snuggled closer to Coach, trusting him for protection.
"What's so funny, Coach?"
"Oh, Buddy. If you only knew." Trying to control his laughter, Coach went on, "Nobody, I mean Nobody has the balls to make that joke about his name, not where he can hear it anyway."
"Oh." Buddy said quietly. Then, in his tiny little boy voice, "Is Coach Balsbutzski going to spank my behind for being naughty?"
"Would you like him to?"
Buddy lifted his head and looked the new coach over. Then he buried his face in Coach's neck again, hiding from the imposing older athlete. With a note of eagerness in his voice, "Yeah. If he wants too. I think he could spank good."
Coach started laughing again. "You got that right, little buddy. He's tanned my butt a few times, and he can do a really good job of it."
Buddy pushed back, sitting more on Coach's legs so he could look right into his eyes. "Coach B spanks you?"
"Yeah." Looking up to the older man for permission first, Coach continued, "You see, Buddy. When I started college, I was sort of like you. My dad left when I was very young and I needed an older man in my life. Coach Balsbutzski has been just like a father to me ever since. He got me through school and got me this job after I graduated and worked at another school to prove I was good enough."
Buddy laid back down on Coach's shoulder. Both men watched him, and gave him time to think. Neither said a word when Buddy's hand snuck up to his mouth and the boy started sucking his thumb.
Quiet rested heavily in the room. Three men, thinking, on the precipice of a major life decision.
Buddy sat up. Taking his thumb from his mouth, he reached up to Coach Balsbutzski. The older coach took a step forward and reached out. Coach's hands caught Buddy around the waist, lifting and turning him as if he were a little boy. Buddy reached out and Coach Balsbutzski gathered him into his arms. Buddy, still stiff with fear, laid against the man and lightly wrapped his arms and legs around him. The feeling of the crinkly, graying hair stimulated his whole front with a wonderful feeling. He smelled so good. Masculine, warm, manly, a slight hint of pipe tobacco. Buddy relaxed as he was quietly held.
"Coach B?"
"Yes, boy?"
"If Coach wants to be my Daddy, will you be my Grandfather?"
Holding the firm, smooth youthful body closer to him, trying to control his racing heart and the tears forming in his eyes, the older man turned his head and kissed the boys soft fuzzy cheek. "Yes, Son. I'd love to have a grandson like you."
The beginning.
---EOF---