Disclaimer/Reminder: The following story is a work of gay fiction although based on non-fictional occurrences. It contains sexual acts between males in high school as well as with males beyond high school age. There are scenes of definite humiliation, some of them graphic. If this subject matter is offensive to you or if you are too young to be reading it, please exit now. You have been warned. This story is the property of the author under U.S. copyright laws, and may not be used elsewhere without written consent. Otherwise enjoy. Emails expressing interest or wishing further information can be sent to: mtnuda@hotmail.com.
Note: All names and locations have been altered to protect the innocent. The state in which the story originally happened - coincidentally - has a legal age of sixteen; the "fictionalized" location does not. Also descriptions of unprotected sex are fictional due to story restraints. You understand you are reading a work of fiction; behave accordingly. Again, do not read this if you're a minor or are offended by gay situations or activities which can be classified as bdsm. Finally, thanks to all you loyal readers who have stuck with this story through thick and thin.
Chapter One Hundred and Three
Tuesday August 13
"If I only knew the answer and
If all are days are numbered
than why do I keep counting..."
Killers "Sam's Town"
"Okay guys I'm only gonna say this once! I want your bad asses in those rooms of yours and lights out in a half-hour" Bernan was acting like what just happened to everyone in the laboratory, the "exam" they all just experienced was an ordinary occurrence, some insignificant thing they might dimly remember if that "and don't forget to brush your teeth - "
"What? After all this now NOW? you're actin like parent?" Jimmy did not so much want as need a shower right now "can we at least clean up before- "
"Y'can do all that up in your rooms guys" Driscoe was in the same smelly situation as Jimmy. He felt like he just took a bath in cum.
"Y'really expect us t'go walkin through the whole place... like this?" Ollie saw the last towel disappear around Crusher's full waist. He stood as naked and miserable as that Baby Huey guy hesitating by the door.
"Okay guys" Les saw Bernan nod "head back to our rooms, and do it total bare-ass naked and..." Driscoe just shrugged "all the points we need we got okay?"
"Y'mean that's it?" Grunt was adding another item to his "most impossible" list. After what he did, and saw, and maybe saw, knowing their ordeal was now over was right up there with the rest of things he was hoping he would not remember tomorrow "y'tellin us we through here?"
"Y'mean y'want more?" Crusher looked at Boo-Boo as well "like this wasn't enough for ya? Ya still waiting for your mothership to come and grab your ass?"
"Fuck no... I mean..."
"C'mon Grunt" Boo-Boo pulled off his towel and wrapped it around his shoulders. When he pulled Grunt's off as well and he didn't flip out, Boo-Boo knew the big dog was totally fried by that point "time t'call it a night okay?"
"But..."
"C'mon let's go" he looked at Les "I wanna see that sexy hairy butt of yours leadin the way" heading for the door "I wanna get a real good look at all that freshly fucked ass of yours going up those stairs ."
"Damn kid" but Les' towel was around his neck then as well "ain't y'got all that horn outa your system by now?"
"Like you do?"
"Fuck..." but it looked like a challenge "y'callin me out?"
"Can't believe I'm sayin this but I'm hoping this finally goes down" Boo-Boo grabbed his exposed cock, more hard than soft "soon as we get out asses outa this high-energy room. If not..." and a group of them were oozing out to the hall. It looked like a different group of two or three guys was at the end of the hall heading for the stairs. Boo-Boo could see bare asses and legs before they sprinted up the steps and were gone.
"If not what?" Les' hand was tugging at himself as well. Yeah, it started filling as soon as he felt those sets of eyes following his butt down the hall.
"Maybe a little night cap in the room, stud?"
"Just what you plannin?"
"I'm thinking of letting you come up with somethin" Boo-Boo caught up with Les as they approached the stairs. The guys were very glad to see most of the rooms they were passing were now empty. The night's "exams" appeared to be ended.
"Careful what you're suggestin" Boo-Boo heard Driscoe behind him "now y'got Les here worked up he's got a real wicked imagination."
"Then I'm expectin wicked things" Boo-Boo turned but Grunt and Crusher were
too far back to hear them "Coach Driscoe?"
"Yeah?"
"After everything we just did and saw" he fell into step next to Coach Driscoe as they followed Les' shortcut out a door to the cool outside air. As they feared or expected, there were lights - lots of lights! - almost dancing atop all the buildings, some bright blue, some faint purplish. But way high up they could see Northern Lights shimmering away over the lake "why this naked shit now?"
"Anyone who sees you now, see us now" Bernan appeared behind them and then came up next to them as they walked over the grass. Boo-Boo stole a look at his crotch and that long tube was still flapping back and forth like crazy "y'see they're gonna know where you been, what you been doing okay? It's like a badge of honor in a way. You are letting everyone know you have 'passed the test' more or less. You have..."
"We cummed for the team right?" Mack and Carl were catching up as well.
"Now THOSE are Northern Lights, got it?" they heard Crusher behind them "see the difference now?"
"Don't sweat it Grunt" Boo-Boo yelled back at them "we'll get ya under the covers and then you can forget all this ever happened, sounds fair?"
"I'm already forgettin it" Grunt shouted back "now hurry up, I'm freezin my ass out here" which was a bit of a lie. It was at best a few degreees cooler compared to the stifling heat and closeness of their exam room, but Grunt was really in hurry to get as much building between him and all those lights. On the roofs, in the sky, they were all making him want to grab his ass with both hands and flee far far away. And if he had not been surrounded by his buds who might think him chickenshit, that is exactly what he would do "fuck I'm outa here" and he bolted for the door, not waiting to hear the comments.
"Homey's afraid his dick's gonna shrink in the cold" Levon chuckled, noticing a few guys finally lose their perpetual hardons. But Grunt was not one of them, because he was already inside and probably half-way to their room by now.
The groups bunched together as they made their way through the door and into the main entrance room, expecting to be greeted by camera crews or worse. Instead there were a few groups of ones and twos here and there, most like them on their way back to their rooms. However, Les and his attendants were the only ones naked. Boo-Boo and Crusher suspected the bullshit they heard from Bernan might be fuckin true when the first few guys they passed almost bowed to them! Crusher had been expecting to hear at least a few whistles or cat-calls when this collection of dicks then bare butts started up the stairs but except for some scattered clapping it was quiet. He turned back to see who it was, knowing better, and Carl was talking to a few guys he knew. They were not clapping; they were standing there with their faces hanging. Boo-Boo was double-timing the last few steps, that muffled silence much much more eerie than the expected lewd whistle or snide comment. By the time they made it to their rooms, he was covered with goosebumps. And he was not even cool.
"Changed my mind guys" Bernan had been talking with Jack and Fred "get yourselves cleaned up and meeting in five minutes in Coach Driscoe's and Lubonski's room. Five minutes!" and the group broke into two surprisingly quiet halves and filed into their respective rooms. The sounds of the two doors closing were the only sounds to disturb the silence of the hallway.
Howie and Fred were hanging towards the back, letting the rest of the guys fight for pecking order for the shower. They were looking at each other without looking at each other.
"We gotta talk about this sooner or later dog" Fred was trying to look everywhere except Howie's face "y'know what all this means, right?"
"It means..." Howie decided to see if his luggage was where he last tossed it "we got two dumbfucks figurin out what's been goin down between them" finding something more precious than gold: a clean towel. He grabbed that and some sweatpants and sat down on one of the beds "and now figurin out they got like zero secrets between... and my guess that's like real minor bullshit compared to what they're now mixed up in and even that's chump change compared t'what's gonna be comin right?"
"Yeah basically" Fred put his hand on Howie's big shoulder. The point where he would pull away with a joke or a snide comment was long gone. As long gone as worrying about what the other guys in the room might say, what they might infer. They were WAY past that point now "but you never said shit! You never... all those times..."
"You crazy? What could I say? I was afraid if you knew how I felt about that sorry ass of yours you'd kill me or worse! Boy was I wrong!"
"We were both wrong! We both guilty of acting like a real pair of dumbfucks... wasted precious time we know now we ain't ever gettin back."
"This sucks!"
"No I suck" Fred groaned "damn! I am so fucking blind they oughta gimme a cane! Oh Howie! All those times they made me do that shit in the yellow box, and you hadda just stand there and watch and - "
"I'm sorry I made you do that one - "
"No! Shit..." Fred tugged himself "that part was so hot! I mean I realize now how much worse it had to be for you! Standing there watchin me subjected to all that shit and you were trapped and could not... oh shit! I'm sorry Howie!"
"You got no idea" Howie's sharp eye saw a brief lull in the bathroom turmoil and pulled Fred in that direction before anyone else got the idea. They were the last ones in there "part of me was just dying seeing you put through all that, and I could do nothin NOTHIN! t'save you! But the worst part..." jumping into the shower expecting all the hot water to be gone. Somewhere there must be these gigantic reservoirs full of the stuff, all heated by... Howie now knew the power source! He had Fred and himself under the cleansing spray in seconds. For a while they did nothing but soak and hold each other, then started the slow return to reality, soaping each other with a semblance of total freedom and total regret. They were clean and rinsed and eased apart in time as Bernan stuck his head in the door,
"Save it for the judge. We're late for the meeting."
"What's this about?" Howie turning off the water offering the clean towel to Fred, knowing he would appreciate the sacrifice. Fred just waved it away, enjoying the cool dampness on his naked skin "what's it for?"
"Let's move it!" and he was gone. Howie and Fred were right behind him.
As they were crossing the hallway Fred whispered to Howie "y'never told me the worst part."
"Worst part was... " Howie knew all secrets were pointless now "no one could ever find out I thought your yellow boxes was so fuckin hot I'd jack off every night remembering all that raw hot shit."
"Makin me do raw shit is hot?" Fred knew it was "like what?"
"Everything" and the last stragglers joined the group.
"Okay okay everybody listen up" Bernan gestured them to sit or lie down where they were "it's late so we'll make this quick. You all have a thousand questions about what just happened. It's too late now to go into it and besides, the Docs ain't here to explain the half of it... even WE don't get it yet, okay? Tomorrow after supper there will be a general meeting - and yes gentlemen the final group competition in the main auditorium" expecting loud interruptions, but that corner had been turned. The group was no longer freaked or spooked by the concept "like tonight, similar format, yes naked and all the rest. And a few events even you horndogs might find a bit interesting. So tonight's not the time for Q and A. Why we're here is..."
"Our turn Coach" Mack was tugging some ripped running shorts from a pile of clothes most assumed were his. Now that he knew how hard he worked to make it possible, he had not qualms about turning on the small window fan, bringing a cool breeze into the overcrowded room "okay guys... Fred?"
"Yeah?" he gave a look of deep forboding to Howie. You know what's going on?
"You'n me bud."
"Ain't you had enough sex for one night?" Fred tried to joke but not a soul was laughing.
"Unless someone else is volunteering to intercept this incoming, I think we're it."
"What's 'it' mean?" but then the two locked eyes "oh... oh...OH..."
"You two like gonna be explainin this shit?" Levon rolled his eyes "cause I ain't no fuckin mindreader."
"But.. " Mack looked at Fred "we are. Right?"
"What we need to say is..." looking at Howie "ain't a whole lotta secrets anymore okay guys? Even before what went down into that lab we all been starting to see and here things, strange things, wonderful things" again that look at Howie "terrible things" this time at Bernan and Driscoe before they looked away fast "no secrets left, guys. Not anymore okay?"
"So what?" Grunt was hoping that little "agreement" between him and Boo-Boo was the worst of it. Because if they were gonna bust his balls about some car he stole in seventh grade then "y'gonna start spreadin a lotta nasty shit about us now? This some sick fuck blackmail shit?"
"We're havin this meeting here" Mack was airing himself out by the window "to get everybody on the same page now, because we got a whole lotta bodies here and not a whole lotta beds."
"If anybody's lookin for me" Levon still wanted to make a joke of this "I'll be sleepin outside!" making a move to the door "jus me'n Grunt's little green men" then at Boo-Boo "but I'm hopin for some little green pussy - "
"That's the bull y'don't need t'be makin no more" Fred wanted to slap some sense into him "because what you really are hopin for is to be sleepin next to Grunt tonight" waiting for the inevitable "or rather under, okay?"
"You fulla shit!"
"Levon it's over, okay?" Mack tagteaming "no more runnin and hidin okay dog? Your only issue is Grunt there can't decide between Boo-Boo and Crusher and cannot figure out how to break that to his main man Boo-Boo without breakin his heart. So like I said, no more secrets okay?" looking at Grunt staring at the floor "y'think you four can fit in one bed?"
"I... I... er..." the look Crusher gave Grunt was priceless in its complexity "I'm across the hall..."
"Your place is here Knullson" Les looked at Bernan, then Mack "so who's being sent over in his place - in their place?"
"Jeff and Jack" Mack nodded at Carl "got some dudes waitin for them in the other room, and..." seeing someone looking like a sentenced man "Ollie. You and two dudes gotta sort it out... for starters."
"If I got this right... that means a whole lotta dudes gonna be across the hall and who's gonna be left here?" as much as Les was looking forward to having a bed alone, his ass was still itchin with all the green cum in it. And he was surrounded by a whole lot of naked guys, most of them already dropped one or more loads in him.
"You kiddin?" Fred smiled "three beds, nine guys here. Either ten or eight spread out in four - yeah, the 'management' should be finding the roll-away by now - beds across the hall. Much better arrangements. And Mack's not one to take up much space, real accomodating for me'n my new boss" Fred winked at Howie "or rather 'our' new boss, right Mack?"
"Much, much to do..." pounding his fist down on the desk "so little time now."
"Now you two" Mack and Fred almost said at once, pointing at the Iowa boys, Tim and Jerry "we can give you a choice. You can take a private room opening up in a few moments - sort of a honor for what you did tonight. Or" looking at Bernan" you can join us our group in our usual room and do what you two been wantin to do - no not that, the other, deeper part - there with us, and certain dudes are at your disposal, up to you?" seeing the looks fly between them "but my suspicion is you both realize time is running out - has run out! - and you might want to stay here."
"Here" they both said at once. Only the four knew what that one word "here" meant.
"I know you been real good at blockin us" Mack looked at Jimmy "but Mister Guenther as he prefers to be called has a major fan on this side of the hall" not pinning anybody in his steely gaze "and the feelings are... mutual. But you guys need to sort that one out okay?"
"Fuck..." was the best Jimmy could cough out, his eyes also glued to the floor "but he..."
"- is going to be joining us right... about..." on cue the knock at the door "now" and nobody but good Doctor Kroos, the Iowa Doctor Kroos/Kroozhe, came in. He was not expecting everyone to forget how to breathe at his appearance. A quick look around their shocked faces and then he settled on Jimmy "they know?"
"Now they do..." Jimmy did not know whether to die of embarrassment or leap with anticipation. He compromised and belched.
"Sometimes the body is wiser than the brain... Mister Guenther" Kroos said like he had been at the door listening the whole time "there is an equivalent already for the other room" he opened the door again and pulled in a rolling cart loaded with several tons of sandwiches and bottles of those sports drinks. He did not need to say more before the locusts descended. For a big guy he sure could move when face to face with the risk of being trampled to death.
The two groups split with a minimum of fuss, knowing they had all been given "approval" for the new arrangements and there was little left to hide.
Even the shuffling of various items of clothing that could be anyone's or no one's did not cause any disputes. So Driscoe and Les were looking at their new roommates.
"Okay let's make this easier" Driscoe started pulling one of the beds apart, throwing the mattress and boxspring down on the floor next to each other "four guys might find this easier, right?" looking at Kroos and Jimmy.
His gesture could not be plainer; the curious attraction - part parental most sexual - he felt towards the big kid was out there in the open. And he knew nothing would be more of a dream come true for Baby Huey than being the meat in a Kroos-Driscoe sandwich. With a side of toasted Les thrown in for good measure.
"Good idea" and Boo-Boo and Crusher did the same with the second bed. To make more room, the two frames were "banished" to the hallway, unnecessary at that point. Butthead watched all this with growning concern. And a deep, deep sense of abandonment.
"As for you Pat" Kroos saw the lost-puppy look "you either can have the third bed to yourself. And enjoy all the comforts of a peaceful night's rest which that entails. You understand, peace and quiet for a change, a good night's sleep correct? As well as that voyeuristic vantage point it would provide which is what Mack and Fred were too diplomatic to air in front of the whole group" waving away his objections "or.." that pause was long enough for Butthead to feel his stomach do a slow flip-flop "there is someone at the soda machine right now who is a few coins short. And you now have the advantage knowing he would be more than happy to join you here tonight."
"Who? Someone I know? Is it...?"
"The decision is now exclusively yours. But you need to make it in the next seven seconds. One.... two... three" and Butthead was moving out the door as fast as his tired legs could carry him.
So far Butthead had every impossible, horrible, wonderful, unbelievable thing happen to him in the span of a few short days. What could be worse now? There were several faces he imagined at the end of the hall. But before he was half-way there he recognized the silhouette, the blond head, the muscled shoulders. He already had the quarter in his hand as he slid next to Mike Sullivan,
"Lookin for this?" Butthead lived up to his name one more time. He was in such a hurry out the door he forgot even to wrap a towel around him. Big Mike Sullivan, varsity wrestler from his school, did not know where to look first.
"Y-y-you! E-E-Ericksen?" Mike was more than speechless; he was gobsmacked!
Not only was his worst enemy materializing two feet from him, he was perfectly naked. And more than naked he was offering him exactly the amount he needed. Not swinging, not slamming Sullivan's shoulders against the wall, he was standing there shifting his weight from hip to hip in the most ridiculous shy manner, all of his amazing bared muscles shining like he was oiled, and offering some weird psychic olive branch? This was way WAY too much to process all at once. Talk about opening the door and falling into an alternate reality! "What the FUCK you doin here? You knew I was here - some fucked-up anti-wrestler alarm going off or shit?"
"C'mon Sullivan relax!"
"You wanna get into it right now?" and his fists were up, his jaw set, knees bent waiting for Butthead to throw the first punch.
"If I want t'mess with ya" Butthead knew this was not going to be easy. The two-ton truck that was their ongoing feud could not be turned on a dime.
Or could it? "y'think I'd be dressed like this?"
"I... I mean... shit!... what..." no way Sullivan would be caught glancing down below Butthead's neck.
"Here..." Butthead was beginning to realize that one word could do miracles. He put his quarter into the machine and hit the diet pepsi selection. The loud banging rattling of the can was as loud as an opening volley of cannons for these two.
"H-h-h-how did you...?"
"Know? Long story Sullivan. If y'want to hear it I can tell ya" looking into his shocked face "and shit do I got a LOT t'tell ya. But it's up to you. We can call a truce here and y'can hear me out or this fucked up war goes on and on. But Sullivan I can tell ya no way we wanna be wastin our time now over something as fucked up as some stupid quarrel. But..." a crooked smile as Butthead's hand wandered down his bare chest seeing if Mike's eyes would follow "first for starters, y'can tell me how the big stud wrestler like you finds himself on a floor full of his hated enemies, the football tacklin dummies you - "
"Our machine is fucked - "
"Maybe, maybe not."
"Look Ericksen we can take this outside right now!"
"Dressed like this?" the hand went further down to his belly.
"Lemme just get my pop and I can get off this damn floor, I was just - "
"Not lookin for me, but I WAS lookin for you" seeing him go back into battle stance, fists again clenched "but if you think I'm really really out here t'fight wit ya, boy have you wrestlers - Sullivan have you ever been wastin your time at this camp! Ain't you dudes been gettin into some - "
"Some what? I don't know what they been tellin ya but - "
"Couldn't be worse'n what us dudes - I'm thinkin ALL us dudes - been gettin into. Okay here's the deal Mike. I got a feelin you didn't find yourself on this floor by accident - "
"Look I told ya, I'm just here t'get- "
"Okay Sullivan... Mike! this is a fuckin boatload to process all at once okay? Shit, my big fat butthead's still tryin to figure out half of this shit okay? It's okay y'can check it out" nodding down at his crotch "but sooner or later y'gotta let me return the favor. We both been usin our fists not our heads Mike. Remember, I didn't get the name Butthead for nothin okay?"
"Look you had that coming! I didn't expect you-"
"Y'still thinkin I came out here to bust yer chops? This look like I'm wantin t'fight ya?" nodding down again, and something about the complete impossibility of the situation, standing next to the one guy he never ever expected to cross paths with under such circumstances, not big blond Mike Sullvan, and sure as fuck not standing there naked as a jaybird! And doubly sure as fuck not starting to sprout a big red hardon! "does this look like I came out here t'fight ya?"
"Dude! Pat!" Mike would never call him Butthead to his face, little knowing EVERYONE else would "why are you pullin this shit?" with me! You baiting me into something you know I'm unable to deal with? "I... er... I mean..."
"Okay I'm sayin this once and once only. Y'can believe me or y'can take that hot ass of yours right back to your overcrowded room and forget this ever happened. You don't owe me but I owe you, which don't make no sense standin here like this but I do. Big time" holding up both hands, then as quickly returning them to the danger zone "but we both know all sorts of shit's been hittin all sorts of fans the last coupla days, so just let me get this out okay? We both know why there's this little part of you just a bit more curious than pissed right? t'hear this, otherwise I doubt you'd be, I mean y'wouldn't be wanderin the halls in the middle of the fuckin night, especially in the g.d. football wing right?" seeing the fists unclench by a few millimeters "okay this is gonna either make no sense or a whole lotta sense, I'm bettin the second" Butthead took a deep breath "I came runnin out here no time t'even throw on a towel cause this big fuckin dude who scares the shit outa me, somebody who somehow seems to know every fuckin thing before it fuckin even happens! somebody who told me the dude I been beatin up and gettin beat up from, and more important" lowering his eyes to where his hand was lingering "beatin MYSELF up over for the last two years because the only way I could make any kinda physical contact with him was with my g.d. fists not... oh SHIT!" and before big blond Mike Sullivan could react, Butthead grabbed him in the tightest bearhug his sweaty body could manage and their faces collided in an impulsive, crazy, dangerous, impossible kiss.
Butthead knew he would have either swung or collapsed or blacked out had the positions been reversed, had he been in Mike's position. He broke the hold and let Mike catch his breath.
"Okay? OKAY?!?!" Butthead knew one of them was shaking like a leaf and assumed it was himself "now you getting it? Now you know why I fly into a rage every time I see your face, why Butthead goes a little crazy over all this? now you know why I came running out here bareass naked when this fuckin mindreader tells me, well he didn't say it was you... but man just the remote possibility, I mean I was fuckin hopin maybe just maybe it might be you okay? OKAY?"
"Ericksen, this is fuckin impossible, this can't be - it ain't real..."
"Y'sayin 'this' ain't real?" nodding down at his now unmistakeable bone "that what you sayin?"
"But... but..."
"Head. Butt... head, okay?" he smiled and gave a friendly punch to Mike's hard t-shirt covered shoulder, but keeping the hand in place, fearing once he broke contact he could never find the nerve to establish it again "c'mon Mike... I'm explainin all this like a typical Butthead. C'mon back to the room, some guys wanna meet ya."
"What? So they can beat me up?"
"No!"
"But I... I mean..."
"Okay lemme try again and stop me if you've heard this one. A certain big blond and hornier than makes sense stud of a wrestler is wanderin the halls, tellin himself he really is looking for a diet pepsi even though his room is stocked to the rafters with enough of that viagra-laced sports drink to keep him on edge of messin his pants from now until school starts - no listen okay? - and he just happens, just HAPPENS to find himself on a certain floor by 'accident' like, and he's not in a big hurry to get back to his room, not that he's still freaked out by all the sex shit goin on back there - no don't give me that look! - but as much as he would like nothing better than to mix it up again with maybe one or two of those dudes back there, it's a bit too crowded for what he has in mind okay? and even though everyone tells him all the other rooms are even MORE crowded, he really really doesn't want to stay there tonight, somethin is callin him out - or rather callin his dick out - no don't deny it - so now I'm puttin it out there. I got a roomful of football grunts and even three yeah three! coaches, and somehow I got this bed all to myself, is that too fuckin weird or what? and Mister Mental Mister Mindreader tells me to take this quarter and find someone who might, just might be talked into stayin with me tonight" the hand rubbing down to Mike's hard pecs "and all that comes with it. Sullivan you just say the word. Cause now you know why I been total mental every time I see you around okay? C'mon if we don't get back soon they're gonna send even more goons after us. Whatdyasay?"
"Ericksen" Mike thought he was shaking like a leaf, but the hand on his chest was shaking even more "y'know this ain't real, right?"
"Dude.come meet Kroos. Maybe he can -"
"Krooze? KROOZE is HERE?!?!"
"Some of them, most of them. The one is our room is this big weightlifter dude - "
"Dark hair? Hairy? Thick accent?"
"The accent part is right" Pat took a step down the hall "but the rest, no.
Mike, please..." and just when Mike thought it could not get more surreal, more impossible, now Butthead was using a word Mike never EVER imagined hearing coming from that crooked mouth. Please? The dude actually said please?
"Okay now I know this ain't the Butthead I know" Mike shook his head "you really one of those martians guys been seein in the woods?"
"Fuck no! There ain't no martians!" Butthead laughed "please."
"You say that one more time and I know you're an alien!"
"Okay MicSullivan! Move your ass before I break it off for you!" Butthead gave his best menacing glare, then cracked up.
"Fuck it IS you!" Mike flinched, then smiled as well "but..."
"See? I ain't the martian okay? There ain't no martians in the woods makin the lights, WE're the 'martians' makin the lights okay?"
"WHAT!?!?!"
"I'll explain... yeah right, we'll all explain" Butthead put his arm around Mike's shoulder and was almost surprised when he gave in. He did it! Mike was giving in! "and if you think your worst nightmare, who is really this dude here who's been beating himself up trying to figure out a way to tell you this" and this time Butthead planted a big one right on Mike's neck "if you think all this is too fuckin impossible to believe - and I sure as fuck do! - shit Sullivan what's happenin here between us ain't even the half of it!"
"Wait!" the two ground to a halt "you tell me the room's full of football players? And coaches? You settin me up for a total pounding?"
"Anybody lays a hand on you" the two resumed their slow crawl down the hall "anybody you don't WANT laying a hand on you, they're gonna haveta deal with the Fists of Butthead first okay?"
"Why are you doin this?"
"So I can somehow convince you I woulda walked through hell to make this happen. Fuck, after what happened tonight, I'm thinkin I did" and they were at Butthead's door. He opened it saying "guys, this is - "
"Welcome Mike" Kroos said, spooking everyone except Butthead and Fred.
"What the fuck?" he hesitated at the door, not sure whether to stay or do the hundred-yard dash! It sure as fuck looked like a trap; it smelled like a trap. And he sure as fuck was not going to stick his head in this trap.
"This is hard to absorb all at once" Fred came to his rescue "maybe this will help. Pat already told you he would have walked through hell to find you tonight - "
"What?" Mike looked down the hall for the hidden microphones "you goons bugging the hall now?"
"He gave you a quarter to buy a diet pepsi, the same one Butthead has freezing his pocket when he tried to kiss you before - no, not hidden cameras okay? - the same Butthead you surprised at the senior party that Saturday night down by the lake, and you were worried it was because he was with Sue, and Sue and your Alice share everything, but you didn't know it was because he had been tearing himself apart all night because of the fight you two had the week before, and you were just as freaked to see him sitting just the way you imagined him sitting when you jacked off the night before, on your bed with the blue bedspread with the coffee stain from when you - "
"STOP!" Mike fell back against the doorjam "how did you - "
"Now you believe me?" Fred raised his palms in surrender "more important, now you believe Pat here? And no this ain't a 'sure as fuck' trap like you're thinking. Even if we wanted, and we don't, us 'goons' as you said, are too tired to fight... after what we been through tonight we're lookin for warm beds now, okay?"
"Your roommate Reg giving you a hard time about last night right?" Kroos came over to Mike, steering him into the room "it does not matter because we have plenty of food and after what you have been through tonight, we are more than willing to share. Do you still think we are your enemies?"
"Who ARE you? How do you KNOW all this..." Mike's gaze was racing around the room, trying to take it all in. His brain was lagging a good fifteen minutes behind his body, and his body was telling him things he was not believing either.
"Eat first, then bed" Kroos looked at Fred "thank you. But right now Howie and Mack are going to start trading blowjobs without you if you do not return across the hall."
"You okay Mike?" Fred was at the door "listen to Butthead there. He could not bullshit you even if he wanted now" and he was through the door gone.
"Roast beef with mustard" Butthead was handing Mike a sandwich "easy on the mustard right?"
"You really reading my mind?"
"About the mustard yeah. Roast beef?" Butthead looked back at the pileup on one of the disassembled beds "fuck who doesn't like beef!"
"Good seeing you too Sullivan" Crusher smiled "it's cool, we're all buds here."
"More like fuckbuds" Boo-Boo chimed in "for starters."
"Here too?" Mike held the sandwich in midair, not sure what to do.
"Eat, then questions" Kroos pulled the towel away and joined the group on the other pile. Just like that Jimmy got his wish; big, burly Kroos on one side, tall hung Driscoe on the other. When he started boning he did not know which reaction to have first. But seeing Mike's eyes on his crotch could only make him shrug.
"Now you see why Kroos here thought it is a good idea to send me out to find you?" Butthead tossed himself down into the only intact bed "can you imagine me sleeping here all by myself while these horndogs go at it all night?"
"Don't know about you buttmunches" Grunt wiggled himself some room between Boo-Boo and Levon "but I've had enough sex for one night" and proceeded to pull the blanket up over his head and start snoring. Even after Boo-Boo and Crusher started chuckling.
"Okay ladies lights out" Les went over to the switch and flipped it, pitching them into near darkness. Before Mike could get his mind to catch up with his body, Pat pulled him down onto the bed next to him. But Mike's eyes were still registered the afterimage of what he saw before the lights went out, what was poking out of the gap of that short built coach's towel before the room went black. And all the unsummoned images of that intense jacking experience with Coach Fleicher came flooding back, the two of them bringing each other off and not bringing each other off all mixed together. Until that bull of a coach unloaded all over Mike's crotch. And Mike could do little but collapse to the floor with his own cum leaking out of him in spite of every effort to stop it. So if sitting next to a naked, hard Pat was not turn-on enough, seeing all these guys, especially that stocky blond hairy coach so reminiscent of that other Coach Fleicher, this was going to make eating his sandwich very, very difficult. Then Mike's eyes adjusted to the darkness, and that's when he saw the lights outside the window,
"What the fuck are those?" don't think about dick, don't think about dick!
"Northern Lights..." Pat looked where Mike was facing "or y'mean those other ones... the ones in the trees and over the lake? Guess those are Levon's little green pussies come to screw him blind."
"Fuck you Butthead" he heard a muffled Levon down by the floor.
"Sorry... y'already had that chance" Butthead smiled, sensing Mike's shocked expression in the dim light "hopin me'n Sullivan here maybe got other plans for my butt. Tomorrow, all the Krooses and the rest of the organizers will explain why those lights you're seeing are really a good thing. As long as you ain't the one on the machines generating them, right?" he heard Mike cough behind him "drink this" offering him his can of soda from his pocket "not like we need more stimulants in our body, eh Kroos?" but they could see four bodies already twisting around down there in the shadows on the floor. It sounded like someone was getting a serious blowjob.
Mike sat as still as he could, chewing and swallowing as quiet as a mouse, trying to digest all of this, and not think about how hard he was getting right now. He was hoping his dick would go down and not betray him sooner than need be, but he finished forcing the sandwich and soda down his throat when Pat took the plate and can from him and stepped over some limbs to put them back on the cart. He fixed a few more sandwiches then pushed the cart out to the hallway , the twisting bodies in two piles temporarily illuminated for Mike's enlightenment. If Mike had the least doubt about any of this before, seeing those guys sucking and fucking put everything into sharp focus. His cock was going to betray him no mistake. When he saw the shape of a naked Butthead come back towards the bed, towards their bed, he did the only thing he could; he dove for that tube sticking out from Pat's front and had it half-way past his lips before his brain could catch up with his mouth. And hands. And then Butthead's crotch was pushing Mike's head back onto the pillows, straddling his neck, filling his mouth with his dick.
When Mike started gagging on Butthead's thickening dick, he pulled away,
"Don't move! I mean it MicSullivan! You move and I'm kickin this hot bod outa our bed and throw you t'those dogs on the floor, got it?"
"Move! Move!" was that Crusher's voice they heard?
"What are you going to do?" Mike feared all of his sensitive spots were lighting up with bulls-eyes now. When Pat pulled his t-shirt up and over his head, Mike knew it was going to happen. He and his fiercest enemy were going to do it; nothing was stopping them now. Mike's hands went up and started rubbing Butthead's big chest in turn.
"I said you don't move, got it?"
"But I wanna I gotta - "
"Tough shit. After everything's happened it's payback time MicSullivan. Now drop the arms and just take your licks."
"Yes.. yes sir" Mike knew this was the last person on the planet he should trust, and yet there was no other guy he wanted more at that moment. He let his big muscled arms fall to his sides. As soon as he did, Pat's mouth was all over him, his chest, his stomach, those sensitive creases just above his hips, yeah this was going to be torture all right. Not being able to reciprocate was pure torture as Butthead well knew. And when he felt those fingers at his belt buckle his hands flew to protect himself automatically.
"That's gonna cost ya MicSullivan!" Butthead growled "Coach Lubonski? Y'busy?"
"No" an out-of-breath voice answered from somewhere below them.
"I need your help up here. If you can tear yourself away from that pile-up I got a dog here don't listen to orders."
"Wait! I mean I was just..." and Mike saw that large stocky form rise up from the gloom below them. He had no problem seeing him in the darkness; it looked like something shiny and thick and glowing! was sticking out from his blond? blue? pubes!
"What you want?" Les growled down at the two guys on the bed "this better be good."
"To interrupt that blowjob you were getting?" Butthead smiled "if it ain't too much bother I need you to straddle this hot wrestler here and keep those arms pinned so they don't keep flying around and interrupting his punishment like. Part of his punishment is... well you two can figure that part out."
"Fuck... what I gotta do.." Les pissed and moaned and got up on their bed as Butthead slid down making room for the big guy to straddle Mike's chest. As he pulled Mike's arms up and pressed his weight down on them pinning him in place, his crotch "accidentally" found itself pressed against Mike's face. Now Mike had no choice but to let Pat undo his pants, yanking them down and off. When Pat saw that hard uncut head already trying to poke through the fly of his briefs, Pat's mouth was around it so fast neither one of them could get Mike's underwear off before it was all over.
"Stop stop!" Mike tried to moan with his mouth full of Fleicher's - no, this blond stud's cock, and things started spiraling fast at that point. All he wanted then was to bury his face in Butthead's crotch and find out what that cock monopolizing his jack-off fantasies tasted like when it pumping his cream down his throat. Instead it was Butthead's mouth all over the front of his stretched briefs, working his balls through the wet fabric while his cock was sticking straight out his fly begging for attention. And for punishment Fleicher's - no this stud of a blond coach had his cock in Mike's mouth now. All the images of the two of them jacking each other in front of all those guys were flashing behind his eyelids as that big cut dick was inching in and out of his mouth, not ramming just moving enough to remind Mike he really was sucking dick, and not even Butthead's dick at that! Man talk about torture! But of all the cocks he would want to be rearranging his tonsils, this big hairy dude would be a close third - oh fuck! okay second! right after Butthead! And somehow Butthead knew making him suck the second hottest cock would be a nasty punishment now, but so hot at the same time Sullivan's head would be spinning sideways and backwards and worse. If Butthead really could read his mind then he would know all this stimulation, being in the same bed with the two most overcharged studs was going to make his cock explode any - shit! and then Butthead stuffed Mike's twitching cock back through the fly and pulled off his briefs, as naked as all the other grinding bodies in the semi-darkness, and Butthead had to know Mike's cock was hard and primed and if he so much as FUCK! that tongue was running up and down the underside of his cock, from his smooth shaved balls up to the tapered head and back, and Mike was ready to blow his load, relieved Butthead's mouth was not going to forced to swallow his gallons of cum and fuck! here it comes! Oh shit Ericksen! you're making me blow! and before he could prevent it he was unloading his balls deep down Butthead's throat! The stars and lights and flashes were spinning and Mike Ericksen, star wrestler lost consciousness.
Mike came to sometime later, feeling something large and hairy resting lightly on his chest, the unmistakeable smell of crotch in his face, and there was the most amazing sensation coming from his dick. It took another minute or two before he could figure out he was not in his room; he was lying on his back and there was this huge muscular mass of blond hairiness looming over him, and the guy was totally naked and erect, slowly jacking himself and looking down into Mike's face. And something wet was suctioning his softening cock. His body told him he just had an orgasm and then all the images flooded over him. The fight in the hall over the can of pop, the way Pat Ericksen slammed him against the wall, a hurricane of fists flying everywhere - no! There were no fists; there was Pat Ericksen, his secret jack-off fantasy! standing naked in front of him with a goddamn boner! Did he knock his head climbing those stairs and now he was lying somewhere with a busted head? He felt a rumble in his stomach and belched something acid. Mustard! Mike remembered sitting somewhere in the dark eating a sandwich next to... fuck! He WAS here on this bed and that mouth on his dick was... fuck! Butthead was sucking - HAD sucked him off! The Butthead he knew - the Butthead he lusted after, who would just as soon rearrange his face as go near his cock, was still going down on him! And that cock down by his chest, hell that whole blond crotch was almost bright enough to cast shadows down his front. And the way all those muscles flexing and unflexing like he was giving Mike a x-rated performance or something, a slow steady rocking and sliding up and down his smooth pec muscles, damn this thick husky stud could keep this up for hours, if not all night. But what that tongue was doing to his dick had to stop! Now! "please, please Pat..." Mike was almost wimpering, his head twisting side to side.
"Wow..." Mike heard an animal-like grunt somewhere down by his crotch "fuckin wow..." then he felt that tongue on his balls again. He almost lurched off the bed as the big coach lifted himself off Mike's chest, and got to his feet. Mike twisted sideways to return the favor, only to find another mouth sucking on that cut blond dick. Before he knew what happened, there was another set of legs straddling him, and he knew it was Pat "Butthead" Ericksen's bent dick that was easing into his mouth next. As soon as the hard spongy head found his tongue, Mike knew all of the preceding months and years, all the fights, the feudings, the bitter nights, the crazed, irrational days, all of it led up to this moment. He closed his eyes, nothing else could matter except the hard sweaty body now joined to him. Then the images started behind his eyelids again, this time in bright technicolor. And would not stop even when his eyes flew open and there was that bluish glow again. But how could he reconcile lying there sucking on the cock of the person who mattered most to him in the whole world, and at the same time seeing the two of them suspended high, way high in the air, looking down at a complex of building ringed by forest, a bright magenta dome in the dark, dangerous night.
What he was seeing - what they both were seeing, Butthead's nod confirming - was the eagle's-eye view of their buildings, the entire complex encased in some kind of pinkish-purple bubble, humming and glowing. He heard Butthead's voice is his head telling him not to worry, he was seeing the same thing, everything was going to fine, all that mattered was what Mike's mouth was doing to his cock, and then Mike felt a mouth on his own cock as well, and the way it was suctioning his limp flesh, his cock was limp for another minute and then filling fast into that tight hot mouth. As soon as he felt his cock turn to stone, that suctioning stopped and that warm comforting flesh filling is own mouth slid out.
"Oh fuck... fuck... Pat!" Mike was gasping for air, had he not been breathing this whole time? As soon as he had caught his breath and the desperate pounding inside his chest began to quiet he felt a set a lips on his. Butthead was kissing him! Kissing him in front of a roomful of guys! Mike gave up trying to make sense of any of this, knowing if this was some fever dream, some chemical-induced wet dream, well fuckin bring it on! He raised his head and smashed his lips back into Butthead's, his arms going around that barrel chest, never letting go again. Not even when their lips broke apart as Butthead slid down Mike's slick sweaty body. Then he felt it; something hot and slippery encircling the tip of his cock and before he could twist or wiggle, Butthead's asshole was lowering down the length of Mike's upended cock, something like fingers grabbing it around the base and pointing it skyward for that hot butt to swallow "FUCK! PAT!"
"Like that stud? MicSullivan, big fuckin wrestling stud! Fuck me Mike, fuck my nasty hole!" and Mike could do little but lie there with this heavy mass of flesh bobbing up and down slowly on his cock. If he had not cum a few minutes ago he would not have lasted more than a minute inside Butthead's ass.
"Oh Pat oh Pat oh Pat" was all Mike could grunt over and over, threatening to wake the whole floor.
"We got a loud one" Mike heard a voice somewhere next to him. He felt his head twisted to the side and then something spongy-hard was inside his mouth again, silencing him. Mike was getting to enjoy having a cock in his mouth as a permanent fixture. But as much as his cock was telling him it could stay inside that deep hot hole forever, this was going to end as soon as his balls realized he was fucking, yes fucking! Butthead in his ass! Or was he crouching on his knees straddling this hard-muscled smooth wrester, not all dirty with hair everywhere, his perfect tapered dick deep inside my ass, his own bulby cock enjoying the sensations of Les' hand on it, knowing it was going inside Sullivan's tight virgin butt before this ended - what????
Mike's head started spinning, not sure if he was lying on his back, his dick ready to fill Pat's ass with another explosing of cum, or he was the one bobbing up and down on the dick in his ass, hands running all over that smooth muscled chest below him, freely and without any apprehension finally.
Pat lowered himself onto that hard dick, knowing after all he had been through tonight, this would hurt him. But not kill him. Not impaling himself on Sullivan's dick would kill him now. And when he felt Les' fingers guiding Mike's cock up into him, he knew the coach was enjoying this almost as much as he was. As much as he wanted to grab Sullivan and rush him away to some private retreat where the two could devour each other until nothing was left. But he saw the way Mike could not keep his eyes off the blond brick shithouse, especially what his towel was not hiding. An hour ago, Butthead would have flown into a jealous rage, fists flying until his brain could catch up with his adrenalin, by that point there would be wreckage everywhere. But now Butthead was too busy trying to figure out why he was not sure why he felt like he was the one lying on his back, his own cock buried deep inside that tight ass above him. And when he opened his eyes to see the ground far below them he panicked and started falling the hundreds of feet down to that warm bare chest below him. Their eyes locked, both realizing what just happened. This time when Pat lowered himself back down on that wrestler dick he kept his eyes open. Even when their faces came together, their mouths smashing together. By the time their accelerating rocking led to the inevitiable explosion of cum deep inside Butthead's ass, they were on the same wavelength; their interchanging heads were no longer a source of fear and disorientation, but another impossible event to be added to the growing list. Butthead pulled off the shrinking dick and lowered himself onto Mike's front, their lips and tongues mimicking their brains playing tag. The glow coming from their crotches was the least of their concerns at that point. As soon as the bathroom was vacated Mike gave Pat a look. No more was needed. This did not have a long wait before they saw a large stocky form lumber into the bathroom next. Butthead gave Mike a wink and pulled him off the bed, the two of them stepping carefully over the minefield that was the path to the bathroom.
"Y'decent?" Butthead knocked, hearing the toilet flush.
"Whdyawant?" a shitfaced Les opened the door a crack, even that enough to send a narrow beam of light over several naked bodies.
"We want in."
"What're ya offerin?" Les knew he was just leaning into the punch.
"Whatdyawant?" Mike mocked his slurred growl.
"Y'ain't old enough" Les turned off the light but opened the door for them to join him in the bathroom. Considering all the showers the guys took in the last hour or so, it was a minor miracle the walls were not growing seaweed "maybe when you're older."
"We can't wait we need to clean up" Butthead turned the light back on once the door was closed and all three inside "all this sex really..."
"Never heard a dude complain about too MUCH sex before" Les tried to ignore those eyes burning into him. Butthead's new friend sure as fuck could not figure out which way to turn. Les chuckled to himself, enjoying the attention but not making it one bit easier for him "so Mike..."
"Yeah?" he saw Butthead already under the shower, hesitating to join him.
"You'n Butthead there like been friends a long time?" Les tried, hearing a loud "HA!" from behind the curtain "what's that supposed to mean?"
"Hard t'explain" Mike felt one of two tugs upset the balance as he stepped into the shower joining Pat, not sure if Les was expecting to join them or what.
"Sullivan's too polite..." Butthead stuck his head out the other side of the curtain as Mike stepped behind him "t'tell ya up until tonight we were like sworn enemies or somethin."
"That right Mike?"
"Yeah... oh shit that feels good" Les heard Mike's voice unravel and lose half its pitch "oh fuck..."
"Y'two screwin or showerin in there?" Les knew he needed to get his head examined. After all the craziness downstairs, he was still looking for one last "nightcap" before hitting the pillow. And the way Kroos and Driscoe were making that Jimmy kid regret he ever fell in with a couple of over-endowed horndogs like those two, Les knew he would not be getting any sleep there tonight. Something about the two muttering and jostling in the shower was hitting all of Les' buttons right now. Or at least the last seven not already burned out from before.
"Come in here and find out" but damn if that didn't sound like Butthead, not that Mike guy who was all eager to jump his bones. Les was about to do just that when the water was turned off and two wet and still hard guys stood there for his inspection "you two sure had a fast screw."
"Mike here's too polite so I'll say it" Butthead started using his hands to dry Mike's body in lieu of a towel. At least that is how he rationalized it "as much as the two of us want nothing more'n to disappear for a couple of days and just fuck each other blind" and damn if that big Irish kid didn't blush from head to toe "we know you lost your spot on the floor and if y'wanna share the bed with us" waiting for the cough from his blushing friend "that'd be totally cool with us. I know Mike here would enjoy it."
"You wouldn't?" Les did his best growl but Butthead was wise to him now.
"Besides..." Butthead smirked "we still owe ya for lettin us in 'your' bathroom right?"
"Yeah that's right..." Les watched the two of them rubbing each other like they could not keep their hands off each other, and damn it was getting to him "you two dogs still owe me."
"Okay... coach..." Mike did not say it as ironically as he knew Pat would "was is it gonna be? Twice around the track naked? Pushups bobbing on your dick? Arm wrestling to see who takes your dick up his ass?"
"Fuck..." Les looked at Butthead "like the way your bud thinks..." he started tugging on his dick just thinking about it. But when Butthead's hand and then Mike's replaced his own, he returned the favor until it was a three-way circle jerk "but as hot as those sound, this dick could not cum again if it tried."
"Poor Coach Lebonski here" Butthead started "had a rough time before when-"
"I know..." Mike leaned over and kissed Pat then pressed his mouth against Les' shoulder, knowing out-and-out kissing was not something the big bruiser did. Yet. That would change when Les' complement would join them "between the machine pulling three? four? loads out of you and all those guys lining up for a turn up your ass - "
"You weren't there!" Les jerked back, and not from the kiss on his neck "how you - "
"Same way I know the two of us keeping ya company tonight is just a filler until Steve? Stevie? joins us tomorrow and - "
"Not you too!" Les whistled "he like that punk Fred now?"
"We both are" Butthead smiled "together. I doubt I could figure out my own name -"
"But... but... Butthead" Mike smiled, able to call him that to his face now.
"- if Mike were not here now. But when we are..."
"Screwing. Then it's like we fit all the pieces together. Same as what's gonna go down with you and Stevie when he... but that's for you two to figure out. The same way we hadda figure out the reason we wanted to kill each other" throwing his arm around Butthead's shoulder, his free hand on Les' chest hair "because we could not do this."
"And that's how we know what comes next" Pat lowered his head "Coach. We know what you want from us. Maybe when we have that practice room to ourselves you could... I mean we would... but tonight you give the orders, Coach."
"If you two really mindreaders" Les just reached out and grabbed both their cocks, one cut and bent, one uncut and straight as an arrow "you know these are mine now."
"Yes Coach" Mike felt himself throb in that grip. And knowing Pat was okay with it - shit he was more than okay, he was hot for this scene as much as Mike was "you just give us the drill!"
"You two really mindreaders" Les went to the medicine cabinet and opened the door "you know what y'need to do."
"Yes Coach" Mike's hand went to the second shelf and removed two tubes of lube. He showed them to Butthead who knocked one of his fists. Tonight it would not be the green gel; that would wait for another occasion. Mike squeezed a large amount onto his fingers and without saying anything Pat had already turned to face the sink, bending over. Mike's fingers found the fuzzy crack and started working his brown ring open. How he managed to impale himself before Mike did not want to think about, still feeling the pain - yeah and the total surrender! - Pat felt when he plunged down on Mike's hardon. He had two fingers pushing the lube into Pat when his fingers were joined by two more, as Les got busy really busting open Pat's hole. Mike knew what came next. He lubed both hands and went to work on Les' hole next as he was busy at Pat's hole. It was more a job of getting the stretched hole re-lubed than of relaxing the muscle like Les was doing. With two, and then three fingers working the lube deep into Les, Mike's other hand was lubing Les' cock, the combination of all these activities proving enough to overcome any fatigue from all his ordeals earlier. Once all three was ready, it was lights out and back to the bed. Their bed.
Without having to fall back upon something as awkward as words, the three managed to find the position most comfortable, most productive for what they were agreeing upon. Without words, Butthead eased himself onto his side in a crouch, making himself available for Les' invasion. As soon as the two were joined at the hip, Mike Sullivan, straight virgin and lost twin of Pat the Butthead, got to buttfuck the other person who had been haunting his visions for too long. The face he recognized easily enough before belonged to Pat; he had no problem assigning blame to the invasion. But until tonight he could never place the other face, the one half-hidden in the back shadows, the one more of a voice and presence than an actual person. He had been content to assign it to Fleicher before he walked through that door and saw Les Lebonski for the first time. His life would have been complete had he never left his crowded room earlier, had he stayed put and not gone looking for answers, for something to make the ringing in his head quiet. He told himself he was NOT REALLY looking for his nemesis. And he sure as FUCK was not looking for this hard muscled ass his dick was now penetrating.
In less than an hour Pat Sullivan's life went from being straight and predictable - notwithstanding the dreams and the fights and the endless restlessness, excluding all those things keeping him from staying in the happy mindless stud of a wrestler jock of a rut everyone told him was his lot in life. But no! Mike had to go wandering around in the dark, looking for something he probably would not even recognize face to face until a fist connected with his jaw, then he might wake up to his predicament. Now with the three of them joined together, with this stud of a coach somehow standing in for both of them simulateously, somehow Mike was fucking Pat and not at the same time. When that image wedged its way through Mike's thick skull, when he and Pat somehow again started switching places, Mike feeling his virgin ass being slammed by that formidable dick of Fleicher - no! Lubonski now! - and the two of them were swirling around the deep frustrated sorrow inside the Coach's brain, and the two of them winked at each other in a way, and as they came to their unspoken agreement Les found himself fucking and being fucked simultaneously by his long-long Stevie. And as much as that thought was a lightning bolt flashing between his ears, as much as any mere human would have melted into a pile of orgasmic frenzy, Les had thrown himself into his overcharged zone and now he was suffering the consequences. And no matter how hard he slammed his everhard into Stevie's no Butthead's no Mike's stretched hole faster and faster, and no matter how Stevie no Mike no Butthead was exerting the greatest tenderest but insistent rubbing against his prostate, unaware, and yet not, of the extent of the abuse his butt had received earlier that night, no matter how Mike was doing everything he could to make Les go over the top, and let himself do the same in the process, their sometimes-frantic, sometimes-subdued fucking was threatening to last for all eternity. They found themselves in the viceral equivalent of a moebius loop. And that thought did not keep Mike from approaching his second orgasm inside a guy's butt tonight.
"Do it stud" he heard Butthead's voice somewhere on the other side of those big blond shoulders "let it happen" and Mike felt one of his hands pulled around Les' hard hip and then alongside Pat's hip, around the front to that very bent and very hard dick, the head full swollen and slippery with either lube or pre-cum "pull it out of me. You can do it stud. Do it! Do it!" Pat chanted as Mike's hand started an increasing speed, just the way he did it at home with thoughts of this very moment in his coffee-stained bed, the door locked, the lights off, the sights flashing in front of his eyes bright enough to keep him... fuck! he was jacking himself too fast, he wanted to make this last, he had a huge hunch this one was important, he felt the earthquake of a giant orgasm roaring headlong towards him and he wanted to postpone the runaway train, but no matter how he slowed or sped or twisted or stretched, his cock was going to... FUCK! and Mike's cum started gushing out between his fingers, the bedspread splattering with new stains, and the ring tightened around Mike's dick and then his other cock was spewing as well, but it wasn't his was it? It belonged to that big thick cock inside his ass, inside Stevie's ass, and Mike gave up trying to figure out where his body left off and the other guys' began, and what was his mind and what was Stevie's, and what was his room and what was this rough-hewn lodge and what was the metal quonset hut vibrating with the giant fans and the constant stream of copters coming and going, and then no more...