Disclaimer: If you are not yet 18 years of age or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between adolescent boys and is for adult eyes only. The acts are consensual and are a result of their love or lust for one another. This story is completely fiction, and all names and descriptions (except for the occasional place-name) are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidental.
I would love to hear from you, so negative as well as positive feedback is always welcome. Please write: markwild082@yahoo.com
For J.D. Salinger, my favorite writer, although I doubt he'd like it!
Red Devil Wrestler, pt. 3
So we finally graduated, and got our summer jobs. They employed us down at the men's room to lick dudes' feet and polish their knobs. Ha! you pervs! We didn't, either. We went to work for my dad. They needed new meat to ride down at his warehouse, and we were cheaply had. Of course since they knew who I was, at first, they looked at us kind of suspicious, until I let drop that Carleen's (the receptionist's) tits looked some kind of delicious. We were out on the loading dock, hauling bags of concrete, when she walked by in a tight little skirt and blouse. "Has anyone seen Pete?" I piped right up. "He went to lunch. Anything I can help you with?" "...Maybe in a couple of years," while she checked me out like a little bitch. ---"Woohoo! Dude! She shut you DOWN!" Slate laughed when she had left. "Naww..." I adjusted my hair real cool. "She's just playin' hard to get."
Slim laughed real dirty-like. "Shit! If yer daddy could hear you talk like that!" "Shit. You don't know my daddy too well, then. Bet chu he's already had it." Well, I didn't know that he HAD: I was just talkin' shit. At least he wasn't in the back of Slate's car suckin' cock like a secret flit. I mean, in just a couple of weeks I was like turning into an addict, and started gettin' all antsy and shit when I'd gone awhile without it. Slater wasn't helping, either: he was gettin' so fuckin' buff, and when no one at work but me was lookin' he'd grin and adjust his stuff.
Plus I had broken it off with May, and Slater stopped hangin' so much with Carrie; there were two chicks in our class who'd already announced they were gettin' married. Bren was off on a driving trip for a month out West with his family. They were going to Yellowstone Park, the Grand Tetons, and then to Yosemite. Jake had wangled a lifeguarding gig at the Jewish Community Center, and we'd go hang after work sometimes for an hour or so before dinner. Craig was away himself for a couple of weeks, at an uncle's in Florida. He'd call Slate up on his cellphone and send him live pics from the beach. "Should I nail 'er?" So yeah, it was like in not even a month the group was kind of broke up, and with everyone gone it was like me and Slate were hangin' together a LOT.
I mean we were working ten hours a day sometimes, and sometimes more, unloading trucks, hauling trash, lifting heavy shit, mopping the bathroom floors. This of course was always our favorite, every couple'a days: we knew we were in for it every time Jim came around with that grin on his face. He'd make a big point of asking Slim if he'd seen the mop and bucket? Slater and I would groan and roll our eyes. Oh well. "Aww, fuck it..." "And get all the pubes in the urinals this time, boys," he slapped our backs when we passed. Man, when I finally owned this place he was soooo gonna kiss my ass... But the funny thing was, as hard as we worked? as soon as we clocked out, we wouldn't be in the car six blocks before I had Slate's cock out. That's when he'd drive me home real slow, and take his time on the back roads. That's when he'd shove my face down hard on his prick, and feed me his cumloads. Funny how I could be so damn tired at work, and not ten minutes later, be bursting with energy, laughin' and jokin', all from just BEIN' with Slater. And hungry? Dudes! Even if we got home and mom had made some Sloppy Joes, we'd bolt a few down, clean up, and two hours later be toolin' to Domino's!
"Maybe the MEAT Lovers' Special tonight, huh? Extra ham and pepperoni? We gotta keep your strength up, Coop!" And he'd order an extra calzone! The thing was he acted so fuckin' cool when he joked around with me like that that half the time I was startin' to forget to say somethin' snappy back. I mean I'd look at his fuckin' arms, or his pecs, or jaw, and uh-oh... Trust me, dudes, some nights I was kinda relieved to be hangin' solo. I mean, sometimes, just between you and me, when he was like out on a date with Carrie? I seriously would like worry sometimes I was turnin' into a fairy. I know, dudes, I know ---I mean, Jesus H. CHRIST, now how fuckin' weird is THAT?... All I knew was that I was daydreaming more about Slater than snatch...
Whoa, and YES that freaked me out, dudes. Jocks don't go around bonin' for dick. So who could blame me for startin' to wonder sometimes, ya know, if I was sick. I even went to some sports sites online, looking for information, but there wasn't too much there that seemed to apply to MY situation. One night though I stumbled on this webpage called "Jocks in the Wild," which was run by this sports psychologist dude whose name was... Dr. Wild! Dudes from all over would send him in questions if they were like havin' sports problems, and he would answer and give them advice and try to help them solve them. So yeah, I guess I was stoned and shit, but I wrote this dude an email. And you know what? this doctor wrote back, askin' me for details! All about Slater, and all about sports, and how much did I weigh, and what was the average number of times that I choked the bishop a day?
So, you know, I told him a lot of the stuff I've been telling you guys ---and before you start rollin' your eyes at each other, this DOCTOR wrote back with some good advice. I mean, I wouldn't have thought this myself, but Dr. Wild says so. HE says if jocks sometimes suck a few dicks it does NOT even mean that they're homos. He says that most people just don't know it, but they have done numerous surveys, and 90% of the jocks who sucked dick did NOT even turn into fairies. The other 10% he was pretty sure were queer to start with, "which just goes to show that being queer has nothing to do with sucking dick." HE says it's actually something medical, all about sweat and salt ingestion, and how there's proteins inside a jock's dick that can supplement your digestion. "Plus," he joked, "if you're sucking a dick it's unlikely the bitch'll get pregnant!" ---hoo! and havin' had THAT scare myself, I knew just what he meant!
Plus he reminded me straight up that a lot of this shit was hormonal, and that instead of bein' a freak I was actually pretty normal. Bein' a highschool football star, it was natural that I'd be oversexed ---I was just lucky I had a buddy like Slater to help relieve the stress!... So I'd relax a couple of days, and not be so jealous if he had a date; I wouldn't even care when he bragged at work how she'd kept him out so late. I started getting used to being horned when we hung out, and throwin' wood half the time each time he'd say, "Hey! Time to work out!" I started almost looking FORWARD to Slater grabbing my hair, and letting me lick out his hairy pits and calling me a queer. I almost didn't shiver when he peeled off his dirty socks, and held them up. "You wanna sniff 'em, Mr Football Jock?" I mean it was like, well... little by little, I was doin' whatever Slate said, lettin' him pin me whenever we wrestled, sniffin' his jockstrap, givin' him head... But ALL o' this shit, which I got kinda used to, didn't help so much, when after awhile Slate started to change, and started getting rough...
One day they'd really messed up the schedule, and we both had a weekend off from work. On Saturdays they closed the pool at three so the Jews could go to church. That's why Jake was toolin' with us, hangin' out down at the park, throwin' a Frisbee and catchin' some rays and generally actin' smart. And every time we got a rhythm goin' Slate would "fuck up," and have me runnin' all over the place, chasin' wobblies and pop-ups. Even Jake was getting ticked. "Jesus, Slate, stop bein' a prick." Slate just belched and stretched and said, "You both can suck my dick." ..."What's the matter?" Jake plopped down spread-eagle on the grass. "Carrie ain't puttin' out no more?" "Maaaan, I'm over her ass." Jake just snorted. "Sounds like you got a major problem, bro." "Yeah, man, it's enough to turn a fuckin' wrestler homo!" Slater laughed and scratched his chest, and Jake rolled onto his elbow. "Well, I wouldn't'a said it myself, but I guess you should know, bro....."
Slate looked up. "I'm JOkin', dude. I ain't got a queer bone in me!" But something in the way he said it struck me completely funny. I started laughing and Jake looked over and started laughing too, and Slater kind of humphed a bit, but there really wasn't much he could do. He gave me this look though when Jake wasn't looking, and I could tell he was pretty pissed: his face was flushed, he scratched his forearms, and balled his hands half into fists. Fortunately just then some chicks drove by and that defused the tension; Jake said something so filthy that, bein' a Christian, I'd be ashamed to mention. Back on the subject of cunt again, Slate grabbed his crotch, and all of us laughed; later, though, when we were alone, he really tore into my ass.
"Thanks for comin' to my defense, bro." "HEY! Now what did I do?" "Laughin' at me in front'a Jake. I don't do that shit to you..." I looked at him crazy. "Whaddya mean? You're always callin' me queer!" Slate wasn't even listenin' to me. "I got cher queer right here." ---"Get a life, dude, and get cleaned up. Now are we goin' to Sonic or ain't we?" Slater tensed and bit his lip and then ---hauled off and shoved me! An' man, it kind of sucks to admit it, since I'm S'POSED to be so hot on my feet, but I stumbled backwards, lost my balance and buckled down hard on one knee. Slater lunged and got me in a choke-hold 'round my neck, and the next thing I knew had my breath cut off and his chest pressed up against my back. I tried not to let the feel of the strength in his sweaty forearms thrill me, tried to remember that I was a stud, and not some fuckin' wussie. I tried not to let my knees go weak, and slowly sink down to the floor, I tried not to look at the awesome mound that was stretching out his gymshorts.
I tried to scrabble back when he laughed and took a step right towards me. I tried not to look at his muscled chest or smell his sweaty body. I tried to remember I fuckin' outWEIGHED him and not to feel so fuckin' weak; I tried not to flush when he said "You're a QUEER..." and slapped my fuckin' cheek. He laughed and cupped his bulge. "Don't lie. You been waitin' for this all day." And he made me blush when I swallowed and reached for his crotch and he slapped my hand away. He pushed his shorts down very slowly, smirking when I groaned. "Whaddya think, Coop. Let's call Jake? He can watch you eatin' MY bone..." Fuck! He'd see me leaning in, and easing Slater's cock out. Fuck!! He'd prob'ly vomit when I took it in my mouth. He'd go tell Craig and everyone would think that I'd turned homo. "Yeah go ahead, Coop. LOOK at 'em, fucker. LOOK at my fuckin' pubes, bro."
I did. They pushed in a thatch above the waistband of his shorts, and fuck ---my stomach fluttered when I saw the mass of thick black curls. I looked at Slate, then lowered my eyes to the bush I'd always secretly envied. Who was I kidding? We both knew I'd suck his dick now any time he'd let me. Slate took my head and pulled me forward awkwardly over the floor. "Newsflash, Coop! Now that Carrie is history ---YOU are gonna be my whore..." Man, I should'a fuckin' slugged him, talkin' trash like that, should'a lunged and hit him hard and knocked him flat on his back. Man, I should'a grabbed my cock and shoved it right in his face: "Yeah Slate. Open up real wide now. Fuuuck, you like that taste?" ...Instead, I let him drag my nose across his black and sweaty pubes, let him press my mouth against his ripe and fleshy cock-root. My hands moved up his hairy calves and locked behind his knees. He laughed and pushed my face away. "You want it, jockboy?" "Pleeease?....."
"Pull my shorts down!" Fuck, I did it. Fuck! his cock sprang up. "Feel my muscles up real good, bitch ---THEN you get to suck..." I swallowed and let my treacherous hands crawl over his legs to the small of his back, opened my mouth and kissed along the ridges of his six-pack. "That's right, Coop. Yeah, use your tongue more. Fuck, this got you on hard?" He laughed and I blushed. "Yeah, that's what I figured, MR FOOTBALL STAR..." His cock brushed my cheek when I nodded my head and its heat sent a chill right through me. Then he pulled me off and said, "Yeah, LOOK at my awesome body..." He forced me back so I fell on my haunches and held my head so I HAD to stare. ALL of him, dudes, his muscled legs, his chest, his arms, his jet-black hair... His wicked big nuts that had always impressed me, the way they made his jock bulge out, were hangin' heavy and sweaty and less than a foot from my hungry mouth.
He grinned. "Man, you should see your face, bro! Guess some jocks have all the luck! All this solid MUSCLE, Coop?" He tensed his stomach. "Fuuuck!! ---Whaddya think, bro? All those crunches, man... They payin' off?" His silky trail descended over every ridge and trough. I opened my mouth, and followed his trail with my eyes to his pubes and his dick, and Slater was letting me look all I wanted, watching me wet my lips. A film of sweat overglazed his pecs and the skin on his muscled forearms. "Answer me, bro. I asked you a question. Don't be a fuckin' moron." ..."Yeah," I said, real slow. "You're ripped, bud. You got the best abs in school." "Yeah? You think so? Better than Craigger's?" I lied. "No contest." "Cooool..."
Then he grinned and scratched his pubes and I watched his cock expand real thick. It hung down heavily over his balls. It made my heart beat quick. "Bet you'd like to feel 'em, too, ---I mean, if I'd LET cha, huh, bro?" "Please, Slate?" "Yeah, man, feelin' my abs like a FAGGOT, Coop, ---like a fuckin' HOMO!!" Then he grinned and flexed and his cock boned out a little harder. "So why don't you bring that mouth over here and lick my pack for starters?" I started licking his abs like a bitch, and the whole time my hands worked their way to his chest his cock was angled down and stiff and pressed against my neck. I felt his pulse in his swollen dick 'cause he teased me and rubbed it against me, I cupped his muscled pecs and pulled his nipples kinda roughly. Maaan, HE started moanin' then, and I worked on his chest like an all-star jock... pushin' to make him lose control so he'd stuff my mouth with his fuckin' cock.
Then he squatted down and flexed his bicep in my face. "Lick it, bro. An' then I wanna hear how GOOD it tastes!" Man I licked his arm like none of his bitches ever did before. And jock or not, I wanted it bad, and didn't fight it anymore. He lifted his arm a little and let me see his dark wet pit, laughing when I moaned and tried to get my tongue up in it. Then he grabbed my hair and wiped that hairy pit all over me. Dudes, in my whole fuckin' LIFE up till then I'd never been so horny. I licked and thought, Oh my god, what if Craig or Jake or Bren could see me. I almost came thinkin' how they would smirk and start to call me Mary. They'd slap my ass in the lockerroom and laugh 'cause I'd bone up, they'd make me crawl around and sniff their dirty socks and cups. They'd... Slater pushed my face away, then stood and jacked his cock real slow, teasing it forward then pulling it back, seein' how far he could go.
I broke. "Please, Slate? I want it, man..." "That right? You hot for my tool?" He squeezed it lightly just under the crown to make that baby drool. A clear gob of precum leaked out his piss-slit and glistened down the shaft; I moaned and stuck my fuckin' tongue out. That made Slater laugh. "Niiiice, Coop. ---Now let me hear one more time, how you ain't really a homo?" I blushed but didn't stop him when he brought his cock to my mouth real slow. Little by little my jaw muscles slackened as Slater pushed inside. "Fuckin' EH, bro! That's the way! ---Aw yeah, man, open WIDE!!" I almost went cross-eyed watching the length of his meat as he slid it in, and I gagged a few times but he didn't stop till he mashed his balls against my chin. The drool on his shaft and my spit got mixed up and got smeared on my puffy lips. "Jesus, man. You should SEE yourself, dude! You are SUCH a bitch!" Then the smell of his pubes and the feel of his cock in my throat started turnin' me slutty. "Aw yeah, Coop! AWW yeah... FUCK Carrie. You suck waaay better, buddy..."
That's 'cause I'm a fuckin' CHAMP, I thought, bobbin' down on his pole ---riskin' the half on a touchdown instead of just playin' it safe with a field goal. Slater wanted a blowjob? Fine. I was JUST the tough jock to supply it. All jocks think about suckin' dick, bros. I had the balls to try it. Maaan, he pumped my throat real good, too, not so rough yet, but really firm, holding the back of my neck with his hand till I started to cough and squirm. He pulled it out. "That too much for ya?" "Shiiiit... that all you got?" Slater slapped my face again. He looked so fucking hot. Fuck, his dick was throbbin' too, with that jolt you get when you connect ---whether you're on the forty-yard line or circling the sweaty mat. His eyes had like narrowed, his legs had gone tense and he swore when I reached up to fist it, and ---ha! I thought his knees would fail when I leaned in... and actually kissed it...
He wiped his forehead and sweat dripped down and wet my face and hair. It made me hot, yeah, puss-lovin' jockboy, actin' totally queer.
My other hand crawled back to his torso, Slater scratched himself and stretched; I licked up the shaft to the fuckin' HEAD, dudes, and all I could smell was his sex. "Damn, that's a beauty, huh? Look at it throbbin', bro! Dude! Like I said, you are one lucky fuck! ...Damn, Coop, if I was a faggot like you I would LOOOVE havin' a dick like this to suck!" "Yeah... you do, Slate...you got a real nice one... It gets so... awesome thick...." He tensed his groin and made it drool more precum out the tip. His juice leaked out like liquid diamonds, all I could smell was Slate and sweat. It oozed along the vein till half his swollen shaft was wet.
"Blow on me, Slater." "Fuuuck...." "Come on, man. Sperm my fuckin' face." Slater laughed a second. "Yeah, dude. Keep you in your PLACE!..." "That what you want, bud?" ---fuck, I teased him. "Treat me like a WHORE?" reachin' out and whippin' some heavy strokin' on him some more. "Treat me like you did Beth Ann when you made her get into the back seat?" I'd watched them in the rear-view mirror... my hand all wet on his throbbing meat... I'd heard her say "noooo" and his zipper unzippin' and Slater pulled his cock out. "Either I get a handjob, bitch, or you can just get out." I heard some snifflin' then a sort of quiet squishy sound; Donna was AWESOME, running her fingernails over my bulgin' mound. Then I heard this gasp and "yeeeahh!" and Beth Ann goin' "oooooh," looked in the mirror again and saw her hand all full of goo... "Remember that, bro? How you treated her, Slater? Just like... yer makin' me now?..." I kept on fisting him slow and aiming him towards my open mouth...
That was the trigger, dudes; Slater arched his back and his cock went off, spattering my face with all his thick Red Devil cream sauce! "Holy fuck I'm gonna... holy... COOP!! ---you gotta stoooppp..." I gripped his pole and felt the juice explode in jets when he popped. Three big fuckin' ropes of cum shot out and drenched my face. I licked what leaked down over my lips... pervin' out on the taste. I could feel it dripping down my cheek and the side of my nose. I started hyperventilating and everything in me froze. Except my dick. My dick was boiling. I died and came right in my shorts. Even when he shot again I only wanted more.
He moaned and pulled my hand away and pushed his dick right in my mouth; it seemed the more I sucked the more his jizz kept leakin' OUT. He smeared it over my tongue and, man, I ate it and tasted my buddy's nut. "Like that huh? I got more, bro. You fuckin' lucky slut!! Yeah!... yeah SWALLOW... TAKE it Coop!... yeah, COME on, little whore..." Later I lay in bed by myself, my throat all used and sore. He grabbed the back of my neck and shoved his cock hard deep in my throat, laughing when I tried to pull off and couldn't, and started to choke. He pulled back a little, but soon as I could breathe he pushed it back in... football jock with a throat full of cock and another dude's BALLS against his chin... In and out, bros, in and out, usin' my mouth like a cheerleader's puss. I was still hard, and my eyes kept makin' me moan from the sight of his jet-black bush. He fucked my throat real slowly till his boner started goin' down, listening while I worked his cock around my little slurping sounds... I kept Slate's tool in my throat and mouth till he was completely drained. I was his little bitch cocksucker now... Outside it'd started to rain...
We went to Sonic anyway, after we got cleaned up. Slater made that joke again, about me keepin' my strength up. We hung out awhile and ended up givin' two guys that we knew a ride home. I had a stomach full of jizz and fries... and another bone. It was only nine, but I went up to bed, and besides, I had work in the morning. I even jacked off AGAIN ---but STILL tossed and turned, I was so damn horny...
to be continued...