DISCLAIMER: This story contains graphic descriptions of homosexual activity between two males. If you aren't allowed to read such material, stop now. The author retains copyright. If you enjoy the story, I have a blog with more of my stories. E-mail me and I'll send you the link. Feedback and comments are always welcome. Midtown.expert@yahoo.com Thanks for reading.
The Quinn family lived in a small house, just outside the city limits. They had seven kids, ranging in age from 9 to 18. At 16, Brady Quinn was second from the oldest, and a junior. Brady moved into the district at the beginning of his junior year, and when it came time for soccer tryouts, his moves were impressive and he easily made the team. At 5" 5', Brady was short, almost dangerously short, but he was fast. And because of his speed, Brady played midfielder wing, one of the fastest positions on the field. I was a senior, and the best forward on the team. Together, Brady and I scored many a goal for our team. One of the first thing most of us noticed about Brady was his attitude. He seemed to be angry; a lot. From the way that he talked to the short quick ways he moved, it seemed like Brady was pissed off all the time. Maybe it was because he had six brothers and sisters, because of his height, or because he didn't have a lot of friends. Whatever the reasons, it definitely showed.
When we played away matches, all of us rode on the bus to and from the matches. It was an unspoken rule that the last three or four rows of seats at the back of the bus were for the "couples"; players and their girlfriends who had gone to the game with them. A lot of us had girlfriends, and usually the back rows were full. One day, after one of the matches on the bus ride home, my girlfriend Staci and I were sitting in the seat right in front of Brady and his girlfriend Ashley. It was just starting to get dark, so that naturally meant it was make-out time. After about thirty minutes of getting into it, I heard Ashley say something in the seat behind us. I couldn't hear what she said, but a few minutes later she said it again. "I said no, Brady...," Ashley said really low. Brady said something back to her, but his voice was low and muffled and I couldn't make it out. Then Ashley spoke again. "Brady," she said, this time a little louder, "I said I'm not gonna touch it!" I heard a long low sigh, likely coming from Brady, then the sound of more kissing. When we got to school and started unloading, I noticed that Brady and Ashley were the last ones to get off the bus. In addition to his normal scowl, Brady also looked very frustrated. Thinking about what I had heard on the bus, I looked at his crotch. From the bright lights of the parking lot, I saw what had to be the ending stages of a hard-on. Brady tried repositioning himself a couple of times, but each time he touched his crotch it just made it more prominent. "Fuck it," I heard him finally say, as he walked around Ashley and headed to her car. "Interesting," I thought to myself, "very interesting."
On the return trip of our away match the following week, the same scenario played out. Staci and I were once again sitting in the seat in front of Brady and Ashley, and he once again tried to get Ashley to touch "it." This time, Ashley's "no," was more firm and they spent the rest of the ride home in silence. But this time, once we got to school, Brady jumped up from his seat and was one of the first ones off the bus. I watched as Brady headed over to his truck, yanked open the door, got in, and slammed it hard. Tires screeched and exhaust smoke bellowed out of the tailpipe as Brady sped out of the parking lot. Ashley was quiet as she got off the bus, walked to her car alone, and slowly drove out of the lot. After I dropped Staci off at her house, I had a lot of thoughts running through my head. It had been a couple of months since I'd had a straight dude's cock down my throat, and there were no potential candidates. Until now. Brady was definitely frustrated with Ashley for not jacking him off or doing whatever he had in mind. And to me, there was nothing better than a sexually frustrated straight high school dude. It was the perfect storm.
We didn't have another away game for two more weeks, and Staci wasn't able to go with me to this one. Whatever differences Brady and Ashley had, they seemed to have worked it out because she was on the bus to the match. I wanted to see what would happen on the ride home, so after the match I purposefully waited until Brady and Ashley boarded the bus, then jumped in behind them. There was one seat left in the "couples" section and they took it. I slowly walked down the aisle, looked around, and took the seat directly in front of them. "Perfect," I thought to myself. True to form, the make out sessions in the back of the bus started as the sun began to go down. Also true to form, after about twenty minutes of kissing, Brady tried to get Ashley to do something she clearly had no intention of doing. "We talked about this Brady," Ashley said in a low voice, "a lot." "You promised me you wouldn't try to do this again." Brady said something, his voice lower than Ashley's, and I couldn't hear. Then I heard Ashley again. "Let go of my wrist, Brady," she said sternly, "now!" Brady must have let go, because I head heavy movement behind me. Brady said something again, and this time I heard him. "Why you wanna be like that," Brady said, "you know I got needs...I told you!" Almost instantly, Ashley answered back. "Then deal with them Brady," she told him, "yourself!" I felt Ashley grab the back of my seat, pull herself up, and saw her walk down the aisle to the front of the bus. She sat in the empty seat behind the bus driver. As Ashley was walking down the aisle, I heard something hit the inside of the bus, directly behind me. Then I heard Brady. "Fuckin' bitch," he spat out, "f u c k n' bitch." The thoughts I had been having in my head the last few weeks were starting to form into a plan. I began to think that I had maybe found the source of Brady's anger, and it was working right into my plan. And the time to execute the plan couldn't have been better. It was now.
I got off the bus before Brady, and stopped just right of the door pretending to tie my shoe. Brady got off, and I watched him storm over to his truck. I walked quickly to follow him. "Damn," I thought to myself, "how does he move so fast!" Brady got to his truck and was putting his gear bag in the bed. As luck would have it, I was parked directly in front of him. I walked by him, got to my car, and turned around. "Hey man," I said, "that really blows..." "What!" Brady said angrily, not looking up as he reached for the door handle. "Ashley leavin' you like that...," I answered back. "What?!?" Brady asked again. Boldly, I put my plan into action. "Ashley not helping you out when you need it...leavin' you hangin' like that...," I told him. Before Brady could give a comeback, I went on. "dude I'll help you out if you want..." With his door halfway open, Brady stopped and looked at me. "What the hell you talkin' `bout, Miller?," he said, glaring at me. Although he was the fastest player on our team, Brady was clearly not the brightest. "What I'm talkin' about, Quinn," I went on, "is that I'll help ya out if you need it...I'll jack you're dick for ya...hell I'll even suck it..." Brady stood there glaring at me, then half-way grinned. "What you wanna suck my dick for, man?" he smirked. "Look," I said to him, "us jock's gotta stick together...an all I'm sayin' is if you're needin' a favor, you're needin' help, I'll help ya out...plain an simple." Bart had taught me well. "I don't need you to do me no favors, Miller," Brady smirked again, "I get all the pussy I want..." "Yeah," I said, staring back at him, "not from Ashley you don't..." This threw him, and Brady was silent for a couple minutes as he looked down at the ground. "Yeah, well...," he finally said, "she ain't the only bitch out there..." "True," I said to him, "but when you're needin' help now and you got a buddy that's willing to help ya out...whatta you gonna do?..." Brady stood there for a few more minutes, his truck door still open, glaring at me. I could tell the wheels were turning in his head. Finally, Brady stepped back away from his door, slammed it, and began walking toward me. "Over there," he said, nodding his head to the side of the school were the cafeteria was located. "And I ain't doin' shit to you..."
I followed Brady over to the side of the building, and he stopped and leaned up against the wall. That side of the building was hidden from the parking lot and the rest of the school. There was a row of trees behind us, and an open field beyond those. A security light on the corner of the building provided just the right amount of light. Before I could do anything, Brady glared at me, his nostrils slightly flared. "You say anything `bout this and you're a dead man," he said. "I got an older brother and he's got friends..." "Chill man," I began, "I got more to lose than..." "Shut up," Brady growled at me, grabbing his crotch, "you gonna fuckin' talk or are you gonna get on this..." Before I could say anything back or make a move, Brady grabbed my shoulders and pushed me to my knees.
It was clear Brady had a hard-on, as his cock tented lewdly in his soccer shorts. Because of this, I reckoned Brady, like most of us on the team, had opted to get out of his jock in the locker room of the opposing team, so he could ride in comfort on the way home. He was freeballin' it, and it showed. I watched as Brady looked to either side of us, checking to make sure no one was around. Before I could do it for him, Brady grabbed the top of his soccer shorts, pulled them out and down, resting the top band under his balls. His cock popped out hard and thick, hitting the lower part of his stomach. He grabbed his cock by the base and pointed it down at my face. "Fuck yeah, man," he said to me proudly, "you ever seen a dick this fat before?" It was evident Brady was proud of his cock, and he had reason to be. It wasn't real long, but it was fat. Probably 6 ½" long, Brady's cock was a good 6-61/2" around. Pretty impressive for a guy of his stature. Just as I was about to make my move, Brady grabbed my head with his left hand and pulled me toward his cock. Instinctively I parted my lips just as his hard thick cock invaded my mouth. Still feeding me his cock with his hand at the base, Brady soon realized he could get more in if he moved his hand. He moved his hand from his cock base, and it joined his other hand on top of my head. Now his cock was able to get a little more down my throat, and with each fuck in my nose buried in his light brown pubes.
Because he wasn't very long, Brady's cock went just past the top of my throat. This seemed to suit Brady just fine. Fucking my mouth soon turned into a power trip for Brady, as he jabbed his hard cock in and out. "Fuck yeah, you little cocksucker," he growled as he pushed it into my mouth, "you fuckin' love this fat dick, don't ya?" He'd alternate phrases like that with ones like, "Bet you never had a dick this good in your mouth before, have ya..." Brady was going at a fast pace and I didn't want him to shoot too soon. I reached my hands up and put them on his ass, in hopes of slowing him down. Wrong thing to do. "Don't fuckin touch me," he growled angrily, "ever."
I moved my hands back down to my side, and felt Brady grab my hair. The hard mouth fucking he had been doing before turned into full-on skull fucking. With his fingers wrapped in my hair, Brady jabbed his fat hard cock in and out of my mouth with amazing strength. His continual power trip phrases were interspersed with grunts and groans. Spit from my mouth was falling out onto his almost hairless nut sac below. Oddly, I had no taste of pre-jazz in my mouth. From the wetness of my mouth and his soaked balls, the silent night air around us was filled with sounds of sloshing and wet slapping.
I could hear Brady's grunts getting more guttural and his breathing start to quicken. His body began to feel more tense. Suddenly and without warning, Brady's right hand left my hair and grabbed his cock at the base. His left hand, still entwined in my hair, pulled my head back, pulling his cock out of my mouth. Not sure of what was happening, I watched as Brady jerked his cock three times, then heard a long low groan as his hard thick cock erupted. I tried to move my head, but his hold was too tight. "FFFUUUUCCCKKK...FFUUUUUCCCCKKKK...FUUUCCCKKK...," Brady groaned, as three thick ropes of jizz landed on my face, and streamed off to the grass below us. He jacked a couple more times, and two smaller loads oozed out. With his cock still in his hand, Brady wiped the head around my cheeks and chin, then flicked the cum into the grass.
Brady pulled up his soccer shorts and stood looking at me for a minute. He had a smirk on his face. He turned and started walking toward his truck, but then he stopped and turned around. Back on my feet again, Brady looked at me. "You know what's so funny, Miller," he said laughing, "I never pictured you to be a pole smoker." He laughed again, turned around, and walked to his truck. As I was walking to my car, with his cum still on my face, I saw puffs of exhaust smoke from Brady's truck and heard him squeal out of the school parking lot.