Tamed Jock Goes Crazy - Chapter 15 - 8am - Lang, Marshall, Dillon, Ton, Eduardo and Aziz!!

Tamed Jock Goes Crazy - Chapter 15 - 8am - Lang, Marshall, Dillon, Ton, Eduardo and Aziz!!

* This story is fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or living persons is coincidental. Personal experiences – images, events, memories, words – flavor my writing, and while elements of this story may be based in fact, the characters are entirely fictional.

* This story depicts unprotected sex. In real life, be safe! Don’t gamble.

* If it is illegal for you to read this story because of your age, location or any other reason, don’t read it.

* This work is copyright by the author. Commercial use is prohibited without permission. Please do not republish any of this story without consent of the author.

- Please support Nifty by contributing. It’s a great forum! Look for the ‘donate’ button on the home page. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Last, I appreciate feedback and reactions from readers – it’s a big part of what motivates me to keep posting on Nifty! I try to respond to everyone. Email: ColtonAalto@gmail.com.

TAMED JOCK GOES CRAZY

By Colton Aalto

CHAPTER 15 - 8:00 A.M. - LANG, MARSHALL, DILLON, TON, EDUARDO AND AZIZ!!

I was looking forward to seeing Lang because I hadn’t hooked up with him all week. As the summer wound down and some of the pool boys began to leave for college, Lang’s brother had rearranged our schedules, and for the last week I’d been paired with Piers rather than Lang. Piers was the hot, scruffy college boy with light fuzz on his chest who’d spent most of the summer making rude jokes about how I took it up the ass. That stopped three weeks ago when I’d confronted him and told him to put up or shut up. To my surprise, he’d taken me up on my offer… and put it up my ass. I took his cherry and he nailed his first boy butt.

I was his first but not his last. Not by a long shot.

As I suspected that evening in the woods, the dude burst out the closet. Some guys go slow, but Piers did everything he could to make up for lost time. His sex life accelerated exponentially. He’d hooked up with two dudes the week after his first gay sex experience with me. The next week he’d scored with four men. And last week he’d done eight guys, on top of flip-flopping with me every other evening after we got off from work. We’d only missed Tuesday and Thursday, when I had a baseball games. Admittedly, six of the eight dudes Piers did were in what sounded like a wild college fraternity orgy, but still it was an impressive total for a guy who was less than three weeks removed from his virginity.

Or maybe not. I’d done more dudes in a single day than Piers had done in three weeks, and I was less than three months removed from my virginity. My totals pretty much put me off the charts on the slut scale.

Piers loved the frat orgy. I couldn’t blame him. After it happened, he talked about it constantly, only changing topics when he instead talked about my ass and my dick. I wished he’d invited me along for the fun. He made it sound like it would be a permanent weekly event at this fraternity, making me wonder if I should check out frats when I started college.

The change of pace of being paired with Piers had been fun. He and Lang both had sex on the brain 24/7, but he was less spontaneous than Lang. With Lang I never knew when his eyes would glow and he’d unconsciously grope the long dong. That would be followed by a look that announced he wanted to fuck.

Piers reserved my ass and cock in advance. Well before we finished the first pool of the morning, he’d schedule a fuck session for later. Then he’d make suggestive comments and joke about it for the rest of the day. He got himself so worked up that when fuck-time rolled around, the dude was wildly horny. Not that I was complaining. I was thrilled the hot college stud had adopted me as his go-to fuck.

If there was a negative, it was that Piers sorta took me for granted. He never really asked if I wanted to fuck but took it as a given that my ass was his whenever he wanted a hole. I couldn’t really complain because I was a cock whore and no wasn’t in my vocabulary when it came to getting dicked. Lang viewed my butt as an on-call host for his babymakers and Piers was no different. It was all worth it when I was on my back with my legs in the air and Piers was ravaging my boi pussy. I could have gazed at his awesome, ripped shoulders and the trimmed hair on his chest for hours.

Who I was I kidding about feeling I was being taken for granted? I didn’t need a man sweet talking me and asking politely if I had a spot on my dance card for him. If Piers hadn’t been the one planning the hookup, I would have been scheming on how to get his clothes off and his cock into my holes.

Unlike Lang, whose idea of sex centered exclusively around getting the long dong inside a tight hole and fucking like crazy, Piers was into flip flopping. The first time we hooked up, I’d taken his cherry before he balled me, and like most dudes that’s the way he liked it. He wanted my dick in his ass first, when he was super horny, and then wanted to finish by spewing his load inside me. He liked me in the missionary position, with my legs in the air. I was more than happy to be underneath him. He was a great kisser when he was in the home stretch and I loved grabbing his hard glutes and pulling him farther inside me as he climaxed. I got off on getting it on with the sexy college man and was kinda flattered the dude wanted me.

After Tony left, I had time to kill before our baseball game, so I checked my cell. Admittedly I mostly wanted to see if the mystery dude who had been texting me pictures of his huge, hard cock had responded. Alas, he hadn’t. But I had a message from Xavier.

Xavier was already at college, having left yesterday. His message said that his basketball coach had challenged him and his buddies Yves and Zain to improve their three-point shooting, so the three black studs had started a marathon round of H-O-R-S-E games that would last most of the day and into tomorrow. All shots had to be off a dribble and beyond the three-point line, and to win a game you had to make the final shot from half court. To make things interesting, they’d decided among themselves that whoever won got first crack at my asshole tomorrow after I arrived at school. The consolation prize for the losers was sloppy seconds and sloppier thirds. Knowing how horny Xavier and Yves got after a couple of days of not getting off, I had no doubt that they would want seconds, thirds and fourths on my holes. Xavier’s message instructed me to get my ass over to the athletic dorm as soon as I arrived at school.

My parents would drop me off at the dorm, I’d drop my stuff off in my room, and the three ballers would drop their nut in my hungry hole.

My cock surged a bit as I thought about getting it on with Xavier and Yves. I had a feeling that fucking without the constraints of doing it in the gym would be hot. I hadn’t given it up to Zain before but was eager to be underneath the mountain of black muscle. I might be on my way to setting a Guinness record for the most times a freshman college student got fucked on his first day at school. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be using my own bed tomorrow night. With any luck I wouldn’t be using it much at all during the fall semester. I’d spent a night over Memorial Day with each of Tyhcinn, Tony and Lang and slept with Tyhcinn a week earlier, and I was ready for my days at college to start with a dude’s morning wood down my throat and up my ass.

I responded to Xavier and sent a couple of other texts, including one to Quyen. After Tyhcinn’s instructions to pursue the perky Vietnamese nerd, I’d done so religiously, but despite his assertive message three weeks ago – asking if was ready to suck and swallow, then squirm and squeal when he fucked my jock ass and bred me like a bitch – we hadn’t hooked up. Since then I texted him daily, offering to do whatever he wanted, but it hadn’t happened. I’d gone so far as to essentially beg him to breed me and seed me, mentioning that he could set all the ground rules and I’d do everything he wanted with no questions. I made it clear that I was up for anything from plain vanilla to whatever kink he might want to explore. Although Tyhcinn assured me that the dude liked me, Quyen’s silence forced me to conclude otherwise.

Lang was seldom early for anything, but to my surprise he showed up at the gym well before our baseball game, not long after Tony split and I texted Quyen and Xavier. Tony claimed he felt much better after our sauna sex but really needed a nap before Lang’s party. The dude still looked a little green.

Lang was accompanied by five shirtless dudes. Total eye candy. All five of them. I recognized two, Marshall and Dillon, the Brit stud and Aussie boy who’d bred me in the Pattens’s pool house three weeks ago. The other three men were strangers.

Dillon’s long brown hair reached his shoulders and he had an earring that I hadn’t noticed at the Pattens. Maybe he’d taken it out then in deference to his catering duties. The dude was sexy as hell and the earring added to the mix. Marshall’s flushed cheeks were bright red, matching his luscious lips. His skin was pale and pink and was tight over his broad shoulders and pumped chest. I wanted nothing more than to lick the sweat off his chest and then wrap my lips around his Brit dick.

“Ty, we were hoping to find you!” Lang announced. “You remember Marshall and Dillon, and this is Aziz, Eduardo and Ton. They work at the same catering outfit. Aziz is from Tunisia, Eduardo is Peruvian, Ton is Thai. They just finished an early soccer game on the field next door and I ran into them on the way here.”

“Football, mate, not soccer,” Marshall commented. Lang looked confused.

We exchanged handshakes. I knew Lang well enough to detect the dude had sex on the brain. When he was in that mode, he ignored anything that didn’t involve a straight ahead dash to getting his cock inside a wet hole. Sure enough, he said, “We were talking after the game and Dillon mentioned how hot it was doing it in the Pattens’s pool house. That was something else!” I should have been embarrassed about Dillon and Lang broadcasting our sexual shenanigans to the rest of the group, but I was past that. I was a full-fledged cock whore.

Aziz, Eduardo and Ton were stunning in their own way. Hell, all five of the caterers were hot. Aziz had a mysterious, exotic air that I found intriguing. Not that I had trouble finding men I viewed as intriguing, but there was something particularly intoxicating about the dude. A shock of long, straight black hair hung over his forehead, and he had long eyelashes with dreamy dark eyes that peered into me. His smooth, tight skin was the color of burnished copper and glistened with a sheen of sweat from the soccer game. He was on the slender side, but was all muscles and bones, with no body fat to speak of. His chest wasn’t big, but still solid and muscular, and his abs were ripped. Thick veins ran down his sinewy forearms to two broad hands. I wanted those hands all over me, gripping me and controlling me. The stud was raw masculinity.

Eduardo sported a ripped, muscular body. He’d been a porter on the Inca Trail for several years, hauling supplies and equipment from one campground to the next. He met the owner of the catering business on one of those trips and happily accepted an offer to spend a summer in the U.S. He had luminous tan skin, a hooked nose, and an awesome body. The stud mirrored Aziz’s zero body fat and his muscles verged on popping out of his skin. He was like a finely tuned machine, his body running at peak efficiency to cope with the high elevation and thin air of the Peruvian Andes.

Ton was tiny, maybe 5’6” and 110 pounds. Probably not even that. He had a taunt, hot little body and big, liquid-brown eyes. Totally bedroom eyes. You couldn’t look at him and not wonder what he would be like in between the sheets. Well, at least I couldn’t look at him without wondering. Maybe it was only my recent focus on sex, but the kid dripped sex appeal.

After introducing us, Lang gave me the look. The message was about as subtle as headlines in the newspaper. He wanted my ass, wanted it badly and had probably already advertised its availability to the five other dudes. Gazing at the five soccer players, I owed him a thank you card.

I was ready for the Lang Long Dong. After Tony opened me up, I’d be able to take the monster without struggling to relax as usual. Lang’s cock wasn’t the only piece of meat I wanted. Marshall and Dillon had nice slabs and I wanted to see what Aziz, Eduardo and Ton were packing.

I’d had a three-some with the blond Adonis brothers, Aid and Ash, although maybe that didn’t qualify as a three-some because the two brothers spit-roasted me but didn’t do anything together. My hot fuck with Rai and his husband Nils definitely was a three-some. The pool house fuck at the Pattens with Lang, Marshall and Dillon was my first four-some. I was apparently headed for my first seven-some. Maybe anything beyond four was simply an orgy. Or a gangbang, like my night in the forest with Reynolds and Tommy.

This hookup would be an international affair. Lang from North America, Marshall from Europe, Dillon from Australia, Ton from Asia, Eduardo from South America and Aziz from Africa. That translated into a six-continent fuck. Not only that, I’d get a rainbow fuck, too. The dudes had red, blond, brown and black hair and a range of skin tones from Marshall’s pale white to Aziz’s reddish brown. I was missing a black dude, but that would come later. As usual, Tyhcinn’s big black cock loomed in my future.
I was ready for action. Tony had stretched my hole and the thought of taking six stiff cocks was making my own dick rise.

“So, um, Tyler, is there any place in the gym we can go?” Lang asked hopefully. I had choices. The sauna would have worked, but I doubted five dudes who’d run up and down the soccer field for a couple of hours would want more heat and humidity and I wasn’t up for it after building up a sweat while I rode Tony’s fat prick. The stairwell was hot and stuffy, too, which left the towel room. I lead the troop there.

The towel room was always unlocked and the staff never used it except early in the morning, when freshly-laundered towels were stored, and late in the evening, when clean towels were restocked. It had an adjustable height table used for folding that was great for butt fucking because it could be raised or lowered to exactly the right height. It was tight but the seven of us crowded inside.

I wasted no time in getting the show on the road, whipping off my baseball uniform and hopping on the table on all fours. Marshall didn’t even bother to take off his soccer clothes before bending down to eat my ass. “Sweet,” he mumbled, “But I liked it sweaty and cum filled too.” So much for wondering if Marshall had noticed that my hole had been juiced over and over before he’d rimmed me three weeks ago. Of course, today I was carrying a load of Tony’s babymakers, so it wasn’t like my ass was pristine.

I wondered if Dillon would want another ride on Lang’s long dong but the Aussie boy slipped out of his soccer uniform and fed me his thick – and thickening – cock. Maybe one ride on Lang’s butt buster was enough for the stud.

Marshall ate my ass only long enough to get it sloppy and wet. He stood up and started to ease his stiff shaft into my hole. Knowing there was no need for him to be cautious, I pulled off Dillon’s tool long enough to gasp, “Ram it in. Fuck that ass!”

“Alright mate! That’s what we want to hear! A horny American boy with an awesome arse begging for it to be used.” He powered inside me, filling my hole and making me moan. Damn, it felt good to have a cock in me again.

Despite my earlier efforts in the shower to clean out my hole after Tony juiced it, apparently I’d hadn’t succeeded, because soon the smacking sounds of a hard cock drilling into a cummy hole filed the small room. Lang, uncharacteristically deferring to Marshall and Dillon, had dumped his baseball uniform in a pile on the floor, but hadn’t claimed one of my holes immediately. Dillon, fucking my face with his big Aussie tool, was kissing Lang and slowly pumping the redhead’s long dong. Aziz stood apart, still in his soccer uniform. He watched the action passively and occasionally squeezed his junk. Against the white towels stacked in the room, his dark skin looked incredible. Eduardo and Ton had their soccer shorts around their ankles and were fisting their fuck sticks, but were cautious, watching the action unfold.

“American boys have the sweetest arses,” Marshall mused as he pounded into me, “but blimey, this is still the best one.” He must have made up for lost time. Three weeks ago, Lang reported that Marshall hadn’t had an American ass while he’d been in the states until he bonked me. Now he sounded like a veteran of American boi holes. As usual, however, I was kinda happy that he liked my butt the best. I was competitive on the baseball diamond but just as competitive when it came to sex.

Marshall began to pull all the way out and slam back into me, grinding his shaft into my ass. I clenched my ass cheeks around his rod, causing him to whimper, “Gad, how does the wanker do that?” His hands were clenched on my hips as he pile-drove me repeatedly. In moments, he powered into me one last time and shot, blasting a big load of thick cum into my hole.

Panting, the Brit’s dick slipped out of my hole and for a couple of minutes it was empty. Dillon was content to suck face with Lang and fist the long dong while letting me suck his cock. Aziz continued to watch. I was beginning to wonder if he’d join in the fun. Ton and Eduardo seemed to be waiting for things to develop.

The prospect of my empty ass was too alluring to Dillon. He pulled away from Lang, withdrew his cock from my mouth, slapped it across my face, and growled, “I blipping need that arse.” He circled behind me and rammed his spit-soaked pole into my waiting and wanting hole. My happy moan was cut short when Lang filled my mouth with his long dong, grabbing the back of my head and shoving his mammoth tool deep down my throat.

I was like a sword swallower I saw on TV once, although I was swallowing a different type of sword than a sharp metal blade. Lang’s big cock was more of a blunt instrument, not that he couldn’t do some damage with his weapon.

Lang’s hands were huge and could completely engulf a baseball. Now they gripped my head. He began face fucking me, using my mouth as a fuck hole. I gurgled and gasped for breath, trying to breathe correctly. It was always a struggle when Lang assaulted my mouth. Not that I’d trade places with anyone. Dillon and Lang’s double cock attack was making my dick as hard as a rock and causing a steady drool of pre-cum to drip from it.

Despite being the size it was, the long dong got rock hard, and when Lang was horned up, the dude could devastate my holes with his fuck rod, whether he had it shoved down my throat or rammed in my ass. I was helpless as Dillon and Lang spit roasted me. I’d swapped a Brit-Aussie spit roast for an Aussie-American one.

Lang Long Dong was merciless, slamming his cock down my throat. He was in full fuck mode, oblivious to anything but sinking his tool into a wet hole. My eyes started to water as he tortured my helpless throat.

I had a blurry view of Eduardo, his shirt off, on his knees and slurping on Ton’s piece. The Thai boy had a lush, untrimmed bush and a surprisingly big dick.

Dillon announced, “I’m cumming, mate, I’m cumming! In… your… arse!” I counted five thrusts of his rod before a flood of Aussie cum gushed into my hole. The long-haired stud climaxed with a series of “Oh fucks.”

As soon as Dillon stopped shooting, Lang grabbed his stiff shaft and hurriedly plunged it into my dripping hole. I held my breath, but between Tony’s, Marshall’s and Dillon’s dicks and their accumulated spunk, my ass was open and lubed. Wide open. Lang was balls deep inside me without any hint of discomfort. I murmured happily.

Dillon took advantage of my empty mouth to insert his softening cock for me to clean. I licked his cum-coated rod like a lollipop. The mixture of Aussie, Brit and Italian Stallion cum was about as tasty as cum could get.

Eduardo had coaxed Ton’s piece into a hard erection, and the Thai boy nudged Dillon aside and fed me his spit-soaked rod. I have no idea how he managed it, but the kid climbed on the table I was on and spread both legs wide as he forced my head down on his dick. He was actually doing the splits as my mouth sank onto his dick sank and my chin tickled his tiny balls. The dude’s smooth brown skin glistened as he ran his hand through my long blond hair and murmured something in Thai that I couldn’t understand. I ran my hands over his muscular thighs as he powered into my mouth.

Dillon moved over to suck Eduardo’s brown tool, which looked improbably long and rigid. Fuck. The dude might have the brown equivalent of Lang’s long dong. I was impressed the Aussie could get the entire pole down his throat.

Lang hadn’t fucked me for a week and I later discovered he hadn’t gotten any from his girlfriend either. He showed up early at the gym because he decided he absolutely had to use my ass. The upshot was that he fucked furiously and came fast. I’d bottomed so many times for him that I knew exactly when the tall redhead was ready to climax. Even with my vision obscured by Ton’s crotch, I sensed Lang Long Dong was close. Sure enough, after ramming my open hole like a madman, he began breathing heavily and panting. In moments he flooded my boi pussy with a load of ball juice. As a prelude to our baseball game, I’d just played catcher to his pitcher.

After balling me, Marshall had collapsed on a stack of towels and was staring at the action while recovering. Aziz stood aside, impassively watching but making no move to join in. Perhaps he was straight. I was sorta disappointed, because the thin Tunisian looked luscious.

The musical-chair orgy switched, with Ton lowering the table so his dick lined up with my asshole. He plunged inside me and began a frantic fuck of my sloppy, sperm-filled hole. Meanwhile, Eduardo took the opportunity to feed me his long, skinny Peruvian pole. It was a close, uncut match to Lang’s dong. I greedily swallowed it and fondled the dude’s hairless nut sac, running my hands along the smooth skin of his inner thighs. The split roast party had progressed into an Asian-South American affair.

Deprived of Eduardo’s dick, Dillon moved to Lang’s and Marshall’s. The Aussie went back and forth between their spent cocks, stroking them and mouthing them back into erections as the two dudes busily sucked face.

Ton was like the Energizer Bunny, delivering a frenetic fuck to my hole. I’d hardly spent any time deep-throating Eduardo’s rod down when the Thai boy seeded me with a surprisingly big load of cum. His balls didn’t look big enough to hold that much jizz.

Eduardo took over possession of my cummy hole, powering his long tool into me. I’d concluded that Aziz wasn’t up for any man-on-man action, but he carefully removed and folded his soccer uniform – in marked contrast to the other five studs, whose uniforms were piled on the floor. His dick, nestled in a sparse bush of black pubes, was soft and darker than the rest of his skin. It was an intriguing shade of mahogany. My mouth watered for it.

He slowly moved in front of me. I took his hooded manhood into my hands, brought it to my mouth, and began to lick. I slowly pulled back his foreskin, revealing a big, helmeted cockhead, and rapidly swallowed it. Aziz calmly let me work as Eduardo powered into my ass relentlessly.

I almost forgot about the battering ram in my ass as I concentrated on the Tunisian prong rolling down my throat. I kept burying my nose in Aziz’s bush and his scent was enough to get me hard even if I hadn’t been the center of a gangbang. His balls hung low in his nut sac, dangling deliciously. His cock, while not thick, was long and lean. And veiny, exactly like the man’s hard forearms.

Worked to its full hardness, the straight brown pole looked amazing. I glanced up long enough to see Aziz gazing at me with dark eyes, his expression mysterious. He was testing me. I had to prove myself. I redoubled my efforts to suck his prick and deep throat it.

I’d had far too little time to work on Aziz’s dark dick when Eduardo juiced me, yelling in Spanish like he’d won the lottery. It was Aziz’s show now. He circled behind me, using his strong hands to roll me onto my back and raise my legs. He sent a little thrill through me with the way he controlled me. But the stud wasn’t content with having my ankles on his shoulders. Instead he forced my legs down until my knees were behind my head, my leaky erection dangled in my face and my ass was raised and open for his dick. With a quick thrust, the Tunisian impaled my ass with his dong, grinding it inside me, and he began a slow, sensuous fuck. His dark eyes stared into me the entire time, focused completely and exclusively on me. We were in a room with five other horny dudes, but we might as well have been alone on a desert island. Or a desert oasis. There was something elegant, obsessive and arty about the fluidity of the stud’s muscles as they rippled with energy.

My first impression had been that Aziz looked to be Marshall’s and Dillon’s age, early twenties. But his eyes were deep, luminous and ageless. I saw tiny age lines on the side of his eyes and wondered how old the slender Tunisian really was.

Aziz worked my ass like a pro. I was moaning like a little girl but the stud remained impassive, not uttering even a grunt. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dillon had succumbed to another bout with Lang Long Dong. Lang had the Aussie on his back and was struggling to get the semi hard long dong in the long-haired dude’s fuck hole. Eduardo was taking advantage of Dillon’s mouth, feeding his long Peruvian prick to the hungry Aussie.

Ton had gone from fucking me to sucking face with Marshall. He guided the blond Brit’s fingers into his mouth and his other hand to his smooth ass cheeks and asked seductively, “You want some Thai ass?” That comment took me back to my wild Memorial Day weekend with Tyhcinn, Tony and Lang. Tony had referred to me as ‘Ty-ass’ and Lang thought it was hilarious and started chanting, “Ty-ass, kiss my ass!” At the time I’d considered it one of many lows of the weekend, but now I’d be more than happy to re-enact it.

Marshall took Ton up on his offer, putting the diminutive Thai on all fours and plugging his hole with his fat Brit prick. It didn’t look like it would fit inside the boy, but Ton took it without flinching and began urging Marshall on. The kid was a sex machine, hungry for it. My summer of cock whoring had involved much more bottoming than topping, but the pert brown boi hole Marshall was enjoying was incredibly enticing. I wanted to get Ton on his back, wrap my arms around his hunky little body, shove his knees to his head, ram my dick into his boi pussy, and ride him into the sunset. Sorta what Aziz was doing to me. I’d let Ton return the favor, of course.

I swear Lang and Marshall began fucking in unison, timing their thrusts into Dillon and Ton perfectly. With Dillon’s dark tan, his skin was almost the color of Ton’s, and the four-some was a blur of pale white dudes dicking brown boys.

One of Aziz’s big, bony hands closed on my erection and I gasped as he began to slowly stroke me. It was painfully slow, making me desperate for him to speed up. The stud bent forward and kissed me, delivering a sensuous French kiss that left me hungering for more. He whispered something in French, which sounded lyrical and sensuous. Damn. Five dudes had fucked me but Aziz was making love to me. I had no idea what he said, but it was unbelievably sexy. The hunk could drill my ass all night as long as he kept blowing in my ear, talking French and working my ass with his dark dick.

I felt totally in his control. The slender, sexy Tunisian owned me, powering into me with his long, lean rod and slowly stroking my cock. He seemed to know exactly how to manipulate my dick. I whimpered and knew I was getting close, but I thought I could hold off. Boy was I wrong.

Without warning my cock shot. Aziz was less surprised that I was. Maybe he felt the buildup of my nuts churning and contracting. A thick ribbon of hot white cum splattered onto my face. Wave after wave followed until my face and chest were dripping wet. I had jizz in my mouth, my nose and my ears – but mercifully not in my eyes. How I missed them I don’t know. Aziz had a faint, satisfied smile on his face as he milked the last drop of spunk from my dick and continued to ball me.

Meanwhile, Lang shot his load into Dillon, Marshall jizzed Ton, and Eduardo painted Dillon’s flat stomach with white ribbons, each of the studs spurting their second load of the day. All five dudes were panting. Dillon mindlessly spread Eduardo’s ball juice across his dark abs and chest.

I had the feeling Aziz could have fucked my ass for hours, but the stud sped up and soon seeded me. He was barely breathing heavily as he bent down, licked a bit of cum from my face, fed it to me, and ravaged my mouth while his cock spewed into my cummy hole. He whispered, “I will see you perform for me again. Sometime.”

Damn. I’d been fucked and fucked good. I would have happily stayed in the towel room and serviced the stud all day. I had a sudden fantasy of Aziz sitting at a feast in an elaborate tent next to the Mediterranean and me, dressed in something absurdly skimpy, on floor next to him, waiting for him to finish before he whisked me into the back of the tent and fucked me until dawn. It was a ridiculous, stereotypical view of sex with an Arab. I’d be happy without the props and the setting, as long as the part about fucking me until dawn remained.

Lang, usually not the responsible one, said, “Shit, Ty, we gotta get dressed and outta here. Our game is about to start.” I had no time to attend to my cum-covered face, much less cum-soaked ass. I grabbed a towel and wiped most of the jizz from my face while pulling on my jock strap and baseball uniform. I couldn’t resist dropping to my knees and swallowing Aziz’s dark, softening cock, swirling it in my mouth and cleaning off his cum. It was nectar to the Gods.

Lang yelled at me as he bolted from the towel room and I raced after him. I glanced back at Aziz. His dark looks made him impossibly handsome. He gave me a mysterious smile, although maybe his smile was due to the big blob of spunk that unfortunately dangled from my hair. I didn’t discover it until Lang pointed it out as we sprinted toward the baseball field. I squeezed it out of my hair, wondered what to do with it and resolved the question by shoving my fingers into my mouth. Tasty. Lang shook his head.

I smelled fresh spunk throughout our baseball game. Whether it was my own still wedged in my nose or the cum mélange leaking from my abused hole, I couldn’t tell. Actually, smelling cum and recalling my six-continent rainbow fuck was damn hot. I was semi hard the entire game.

Baseball can be exciting when everyone intensely focuses on every pitch. It can also be damn boring, even for the players. We took a big lead early in the game and Lang was on fire, striking out half the batters he faced. It was the last game of the summer season and with almost no balls hit my way, it was hard not to look forward. I kept focused enough to avoid any embarrassing mistakes and made a couple of great plays at shortstop, but my mind wondered more than once. I kept recalling my imagined vision of servicing Aziz in a tent next to the Mediterranean.

Except the fantasy became more elaborate the longer the baseball game went on. The tent got bigger and was now a massive desert oasis. I was a slave, wearing a tight leather collar along with wrist and ankle cuffs that were used to keep me chained so that I was constantly available to Aziz. The chains were to keep me from escaping from his harem, but we both knew I had no desire to escape. Eduardo was the master of Aziz’s harem and Ton was his manservant. Both were naked – Eduardo wore a cock ring that kept his long pole erect – and had cart Blanche to use me whenever they pleased – which was frequently. Marshall, Dillon and Lang were visiting foreigners. Aziz, being the consummate gracious host, was happy to make his blond American slave, the prize of his harem, available to each of them.

Totally Hollywood cliché rather than any glimmer of reality, but damn, I couldn’t get Aziz’s lean brown body and dark sexy eyes out of my mind or his deep, melodic voice, whispering French, out of my ears. It would also take a while to get his thick seed out of my crack.

You would think that getting butt-fucked seven times by mid-morning would have left me satiated. But no, I was still turned on and horny as hell. I was addicted to ball juice and wanted more. The last day of my crazy, cock-whore summer was shaping up to be a wild one.

TO BE CONTINUED…

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If so, send me a note. I’m always interested in what readers liked – characters, lines, the setup, etc. ColtonAalto@gmail.com.

My plan is to post new chapters every two weeks, so look for them! The story has an ending, however, and won’t go on endlessly – five more chapters to come (or cum…).

My other Nifty stories are listed in the author index under ‘Colton,’ or search for “Colton Aalto” using the Nifty Archive Search button: https://search.niftyarchives.org/?keywords=colton+aalto&sort=Relevance
I jump around in different Nifty categories, so you’ll find a bit of everything. Enjoy!

© Copyright Colton Aalto 2018

Skyblue Template for Easy Text To HTML Converter