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.
Now, back to our show --
Chapter Eighty-Five
Saturday August 10 continude
"When you can strip naked without any shame,
and drop your clothes and stomp them underfoot
the way little kids fearlessly do,
then you will get a glimpse of the timeless adolescent..."
Gospel of Thomas logo 37
"We got company" Mort announced over the growing noise, looking at Kroos and Mark as the dam burst, the sound of flying chairs drowning out his "remember?"
"Y'mean?"
"Joe's back" Mort looked at Moose in spite of himself "and there're guys with him!"
The guys back at the chairs were getting back into their seats, some on their own steam, others with some "persuasion". Once Mister Johnson/Jones and even the mixing guy assured them it was all part of the show -- no, they were not being invaded by aliens, or worse, the men in blue! -- they were "guided" back into their seats. Some without even losing their hards.
"Guys? What guys? Who?" from the panicking guys on stage. Some were throwing clothes on, despite the dress code guidelines from the release form.
"Who's here?" Arn looked around, more flustered than he intended. He did his best to calm some of the guys nearest him, but his own voice was telling him things were off.
"Remember?" Mort looked at both of them "we sent 'Joe' to get rid of the repairmen?"
"Repairmen? What repairmen?!?!" again from more guys than planned.
"Yeah, the repair guys are here. Do I get rid of them?"
Mort looked around the room. Several of the half-dressed guys looked like they were expecting him to say yeah of course! But he had read the script and they had not.
"Naw let' m come in" Arn looked at Kroos and Mark as well, but kept his stone face beneath the helmet. As expected, several of the guys on stage continued to panic, covering themselves with anything in reach, a towel, a shoe, a plastic bag. Bernan went over to some of the more spooked ones, and whispered something so they would not high-tail it out of there. A few still slipped off to the shower area to hide, like Brian and his new friend.
Mister Soapy followed, but it looked like he was more interested in Brian's whereabouts than in hiding from this new development.
"Y'sure it's okay?" Mort looked around, playing the part to the hilt.
"I'm sure I'm sure" Arn repeated his line and went over to where he had set his clipboard and picked it up. It looked like he was double-checking his lines. As he did Mort went to the stage door and opened it.
One by one three repair guys filed in. As soon as everyone saw who it was, a whoosh of relief, even some semi-muffled laughter came from the stage, before Mort gave them his patented threatening looks. But then another person appeared through the door, dressed in the same football uniform as the three coaches. But he looked like he had gone swimming in it, his sweat clinging to his every muscle through the wet material. The helmet hid his features, causing a fresh wave of panic to go through both groups. The sound of squeeking folding chairs and rustling bodies came from the audience as they were out of their chairs and then told to relax and take their seats again.
Dressed in almost identical green coveralls were Rocko and his red-haired partner Ed. With them, looking uncomfortable in his wrong-sized ill-fitting outfit was Gus, his eyes sweeping around the room like crazy. All were wearing matching paper caps with "Ricky's Repair" stenciled on the front.
"You must be... Ricky" Mort took a step towards Rocko, hand out. Rocko stepped in front of the other two and shooked hands.
"Yeah dat's me" Rocko looked around the room for the first time taking it all in. He tried not to meet the gaze of several of the guys he recognized from the Y earlier. He looked past Mort, seeing the cameras, the mixing board and beyond to the guys sitting in the folding chairs, "so what's goin down here?" trying to look shocked, which was not difficult. Rocko was visibly spooked by the whole set up. He had been briefed on what to expect with Kroos and all, but he was shocked by the extent of the set-up. If he could have turned tail he would have.
"Don't worry about them" Mort indicated Kroos and Joel "it's a kind of... stunt, y'know like a hazing, is all."
"Some stunt!" Rocko ad-libbed "you catch them stealing the gate or somethin?"
"Nothing like that" Mort was looking nervous. Rocko was not sticking to the script at all.
"Okay break time's over" Arn came over to Kroos and Mark "enough jawing, let's see some weights movin! Gimme some arm curls. Starting now!"
Mark bent forward, very happy to hide his crotch for a change. Kroos stood there, half turning to Rocko like he was going to say something. Then he bent forward, knowing his bare ass was directed at Rocko and Company. The two show studs brought the bars to their waist and stood there, Kroos starting first.
"So 'stunt' don't explains the weights" Rocko looked at Mort "and it really don't explain all those hardons... boss" he cocked his eyebrow a bit "do it?"
"Maybe not" Mort was turning red in spite of himself. This was not in the script. But he pulled it back fast "but the reason you're here. It's like this" reading from the notes on the clipboard "we need an air conditioner installed right about..." walking over to the wall just to the left of the stage door "about here" tapping on the plywood "you'll see the marker outlines from the other room. So if you can start -- "
"That's it?" Rocko was way off the script now"that's all? You don't want us running around waving our cocks like -- "
"You can get started NOW!" Mort went to the door and opened it, hoping they would leave before Rocko's improv skills got worse "and J-Joe, if you could show them--"
"I'll do it" from Bernan. By now the script was all but pointless. He almost pushed Joel out of the way, and escorted the three back out the door.
Gus recognized several faces in the group and gave them a very confused look hesitating to leave. But Ed was all too glad to get off the stage, not stopping to look around.
As soon as the four were gone Moose, of all people spoke up,
"Hey 'coach'" looking at his cousin "those dudes left their stuff" pointing at a bag of tools on the floor. Moose tried to grab it but Mort yanked it out of his hands. Several items spilled to the floor.
"Funny lookin tools" Arn reached down and picked up three of the spilled items. He held up a tube of what looked like toothpaste.
"Oh that must be their caulking glue" Mort started, but Moose was there in a flash, grabbing it out of Arn's hand. He unscrewed the cap and squeezed some into his hand. As he feared, it was no damn caulking; it was the damn green goo!
"What the fuck?" he spun around and looked at Doug, like he planted it there! Before Doug could cough out something like words, Mort grabbed it from Moose,
"Gimme that!"
Mort squeezed some onto his fingertips before Moose could sabotage this any more,
"Man this feels weird" he rubbed it between his fingers "kinda tingles" rubbing more "man it's worse'n that BenGay shit!" and tossed it to Arn.
"Maybe I should return it to those workmen?" Arn was back to the script, in spite of some comments from Moose and even Matt was trying to interrupt.
"No I gotta better idea" he took the tube and came up to Kroos who was almost finished with his arm curls "okay y'asked for this. Lift that bar up to your chest and keep it there -- "
"Why? What?!?!" Kroos saw the tube and recognized it immediately "where did you get that!?!"
"From the workmen, remember?"
"Damnit you are not supposed to -- "
"Oh I'm supposed to" Arn looked at him hard "I am really supposed to, and then some!"
"No wait, not that!" from Joel coming back through the door, seeing where this was going in a flash "that's not -- I mean -- Kro--Chris, I didn't -- he didn't -- I mean!"
"Stop your babblin" Arn looked at him, then Kroos "you too. Keep that bar on your chest -- "
"No not him!" Kroos tried setting down the bar, but Mark barked,
"It's okay. We gotta do what he says, or the whole team will... believe what they were saying" and Mark lifted the barbell to his chest as well, struggling not to upset the weight tied to his crotch. He looked at Kroos and shook his head, mouthing: okay! I didn't know!
"Believe what?" from the doorway to the locker room. There stood one of the adults, Brian's head peeping over his shoulder "what'd we miss?"
"Nothin..." Moose caught Brian's nervous glance before he ducked back around the corner, hoping to hide in the shower area as long as he could "you two can g'back to playin hide the wienie!" and more guys cracked up.
"Shuddup Mark" Mort was not ready to have Moose destroy the script as this critical point.
"Name's Mort" Moose wheeled around "or y'forget that... Morrie?"
"What?" Mort stood shocked and pissed. He only used that stage name that time "how you--"
"Believe what?" the dark haired guy repeated, coming into the locker room where his wardrobe of a t-shirt and briefs looked more appropriate. Several guys noticed he was showing wood in a major way "we still don't believe what?"
"The coaches want us to believe" mister soapy interrupted "these two were beating their meat watchin us in there" thumbing in the general direction of Brian's hiding place.
"So fuckin what?" Moose looked at the refugee from the shower room "half this room's guilty of that!" again getting his laughs. Mort saw the main troublemaker tonight and it was his dumb jock cousin.
"Worse'n that!" Mort waved the tube in the air like it was all the evidence he needed "blow jobs! They were trading blow jobs!" expecting and receiving the rehearsed boos of outrage. But louder than that was mister soapy's,
"Prove it!"
"Say what?" from Bernan, seeing another troublemaker "what'd you just say?"
"I said prove it!" and to make his point he sat down and stepped into someone's size 16 athletic shoes "there! Now I just bought the right to call your bluff! You said these two were chowing on dick, well prove it!"
"Who the fuck are you?" from both Mort and Moose simultaneously. Well, only Moose added the "fuck"; Mort was trying to stay proper. A downhill slide if there ever was one. The two looked at each other, more shocked than pissed they both came to the question at the same moment.
"Me?" mister soapy looked around "I'm just a... " winking at Moose "a concerned parent, one of several who are concerned about the cancerous growth of apathy in today's youth--"
"What?!?!" from everyone under twenty-five, both on-stage and off.
"This is who we are" he repeated to Moose and Doug "remember?"
"Yeah right!" from Brian, re-emerging from the shower area, stepping behind his thin dark-haired adult escort, but not before those closest noticed he was as chubbed as the other guy.
"And I am here tonight" again the wink at Moose "to make sure everyone... well I'm interrupting" back to Mort "you were about to show us what these two were doing when you surprised them I believe."
"Hey" Mark looked at him "don't believe the coaches" sounding like the script was back on the table "they made it all up" to Bernan "right?"
"Well I won't believe it" from mister hairy belly "til I see it for myself."
"No!" Kroos looked at Mort "that was not part--"
"Let's see what all this hysteria is about" mister hairy belly folded his arms "let's see the 'dirty deed' first hand!"
"No" Mark looked at him then at mister soapy "who are you two? You two in this together?"
"Not dressed like that" he pointed at mister hairy belly's bare feet, the towel wadded into his crotch. Dressed like that he was signaling: hands off, I ain't playin! "me? call me... John... John Bigfoot!" stomping the oversized shoes, almost clown-like in their hugeness. He turned to mister hairy belly "and you? Who are you?"
"None a your business!" he snapped back.
"Shit, call'm the Doughboy" one of the guys from the Y joked, trying to poke him in his stomach. Mister hairy belly jumped back, swearing and threatening. He turned back to Mort, desperate to shift the attention,
"We're waiting! Only way to prove they were suckin dick is show us! Now!"
"You heard the boss-- I mean man" Bernan caught himself, hoping no one noticed "you!" pointing at Mark "stand on this!" gesturing at the wooden bench "do it!"
Mark was not sure he wanted to be the center of attention right now. After all, the only reason he agreed to any of this was like he told Joel before, he was only a "hired gun", someone, preferably one of several, who was gonna get on ride up Kroos' ass, no more no less. That was what the script called for, but it seemed the script was so much waste paper at this point. He stepped up onto the bench with a sense of forboding.
Mark started to tug at his shorts when Arn yelled,
"No! Make him do it" thumbing at Kroos "he needs the practice" only Kroos saw the glint in his eye beneath the helmet, knowing he was making an inside reference to earlier that day. So Kroos went over and stood in front of Mark. With a slight glance at Joel and a slighter sigh reached out and started to pull down Mark's shorts.
"No!" Arn yelled again "no hands. Maybe y'don't understand the concept. Blowjob! They wanna see a blowjob! Use that damn mouth" and picked up two dumbbells lying off the the side "wrap yer mitts around these instead. Think of it as exercising all yer important muscle groups" and slipped them into Kroos' grip. As soon as Kroos was pre-occupied with trying to tug down the front of Mark's shorts with his mouth, his arms weighted down at his sides, Mort took over the show and tugged Kroos' jock down as far as the shoe still hanging from his balls. When he saw that Kroos had successfully freed Mark's cock and was mouthing the foreskin-covered head, he unscrewed the tube and smeared a large glob of the green goo along Kroos' cockshaft, making sure to get a nice amount under the foreskin as well. Kroos could only groan and shiver, his hands incapacitated, his mouth busy with the growing tube pressing against his tonsils.
"Man that's wicked!" Moose looked over at mister soapy -- Bigfoot now -- seeing his undivided focus on what was going on. When he saw mister hairy belly -- okay Doughboy -- with his disposable camera again, he started to get nervous. But not nervous enough to prevent a growing worry in his shorts. Bigfoot looked over at him and gestured for Moose to join him and Doug in the corner knot. Moose saw the possibility of putting another foot between him and the roving cameras. He looked out to the audience and shrugged, hoping Ern, hoping Big Hank, would understand.
"This is how we punish pervs who like playin with dicks" Mort was sweating under the lights now, knowing what the rest of the script contained. As soon as Kroos returned his mouth to Mark's rapidly swelling dick, Mort smeared more green jel on his fingertips and then started jamming them between Kroos' hard muscled cheeks. Kroos winced knowing what was coming, trying to squeeze his ass tight. When Mort slapped his butt hard, telling him to stop fighting, Kroos felt the greased finger find his already lubed hole. He bucked his hips with the sensation, sending the shoe swinging. And when Mort applied the rest of the goo to the stretched skin under his scrotum, Kroos gave a loud hiss.
"What is that shit?" from Brian's friend, his hand behind him and pressing into the warm space between their sweating bodies "why are -- "
"You don't wanna know" from Doug, then realized his mistake "I mean..."
"Lemme see" the guy came over like an idiot "why you putting it -- "
"Cause it makes y'go crazy" another adult tried to block him "y'don't wanna -- "
But the guy came over to Kroos, and picked up some of the goo dripping from Kroos' red cockhead. He rubbed it between his two fingers, then to their horror, put some on his own chest. Arn tried to pull his hand free but the guy stepped away,
"What's the big deal?" he thrust his chest out, the big tough guy "it ain't no... man! that feels like... wow that's something!" and he dabbed the rest right onto his right nipple "shit, and you put this shit on his dick?" he went back to the group and stood in front of Brian again "you dudes are fuckin animals!" but he could not keep his hand away from his nipples any more. He looked like he was both suffering and enjoying the effect. Moose looked at him closely, but no, he did not recognize him from anywhere other than the Y this afternoon, especially not the docs' office. Who the hell was this dude?
Kroos stood there trying not wiggle but the goo was having a disastrous effect now. Between the Viagra and the cords around his balls, and now the goo all the way from his foreskin to his hole, he felt like he could almost cum from the pain! But after all Joel had put him through all day he swore that was highly unlikely. So when he looked down and the tip of his cock was starting to drip some fluid, he was hoping it was just excess jel. But the way his cock was throbbing he suspected he was starting to ooze pre-cum as well. Damn, and this night is just starting! What other surprises would all these adlibbing jokers have in store for him? He looked at Joel, trying to signal him to disappear into the background, fearing the victimization would spread to him as well. But Joel stood there, sweat now running down his face and chest in steady rivulets, but a look of stern determination on his face.
Kroos was about to call for some kind of break when they all heard what sounded like a table saw. Several guys looked around, expecting one of the flimsy walls to come toppling down on top of them. But they soon realized it was a recording, coming from somewhere in the back. When they saw the heads then the faces of Rocko and the other two appear over the top of the back wall like a trio of Kilroys they started to laugh and point but Mort spoke up,
"It may get a little noisy with the work but just IGNORE IT" looking at the young guys who were making a scene. He looked at Mister Johnson/Jones who just nodded and tapped his watch, waving him to keep going. Mort and Bernan glanced at Rocko then at the nearest camera, realizing it was angled so it could not see them peering over the top of the wall like goofy morons. When he saw Gus duck down and start to saw through the wall at the pre-arranged spot, he knew they were back on track. The pre-recorded sound of sawing and hammering was turned down a bit by that Ed guy coming the door just then.
"We're starting on the wall sorry about the.." he announced like no one could see Gus's saw coming and going through the thin plywood. Several guys in the audience started to chuckle, including Willis and Big Hank, not sure if this was part of the show or a big goof. If they knew what they were planning, they would not have been laughing. But Ed stood there, his jaw on the floor, watching Kroos bobbing up and down on Mark's hard red dick. His eyes travelled up and down Kroos a few times, taking it the whole view. This was worse than the shit at the Y earlier, much worse. What the hell did he agree to? He backed through the door fast.
Kroos used the temporary break to rest his sore jaw. He was amazed he could register that discomfort, considering everything below his waste was screaming with pain now. His mouth returned to Mark's fat hard cock, almost glad he left his piercing backstage. It would probably reappear at the most critical moment, he told himself, right when it was about to invade his backside.
Brian's thin friend had backed him into the wall next to the doorway to the shower area, his right hand pressed between them. When it worked its way down the front of his damp t-shirt, he almost expected Brian to bolt for safety. But Brian had nowhere to go, and besides, if this dude got a hold of his goods, it wasn't like anyone was watching. Everyone was too busy watching Kroos blow the muscle dude, who seemed to be enjoying the attention. So when Brian felt this guy's hand slide its way down his front and find the elastic waistband to his briefs, he thought he would return the favor. Just to keep it friendly, he told himself. The guy's hand worked its way inside Brian's briefs, finding his pubes and then the base of his hardening cock around the same time Brian's hand found its way under the dude's boxers, running up and down his small hard butt muscle. And when Brian inched his boxers down past his rump, he felt the dude give his filling cock and hard insistent squeeze. Before Brian knew it, the guy had his hardon as well as his nuts free of the fly, his hand busy and expert in finding all of Brian's trigger spots. Brian pressed back against the wall and closed his eyes, hoping their motions were not attracting too much attention. But what this dude's hand was doing to his dick was worth the price of admission alone.
Moose joined Doug and Mister Bigfoot, seeing them space for him between their semi-naked bodies. Doug was almost hiding behind the guy, only his t-shirted shoulders visible at first. As Moose suspected Doug was naked from the waist down, signaling he could be touched but would not return any favors. Unlike Mister Bigfoot, naked except for the borrowed shoes. Whose were they, Klu's? Moose could only imagine a few guys who had big enough feet -- or yeah, that too! -- to fill them. When this mysterious oddball slipped into them Moose wanted to grab him by the throat and toss his crazy ass outa there! Did he know what that meant?
"Dude what's with the shoes?" Moose whispered to him, taking his spot between them. As soon as he did, the guy slipped forward, positioning himself in front of them, almost squeezing the two jocks tighter together behind him. But Moose recognized the configuration. A flying wedge, the perfect offense. If things got nasty, the three could bulldoze their way right through the worst of it, Mister Bigfoot in the lead. Moose expected the guy to shush him, but instead he whispered back,
"You object?" and Moose felt a hand, surely not Doug's, go right for his crotch.
"Hey!"
"You want a towel?" meaning: you don't want anybody to grab your stuff?
"No... I mean..." Moose saw Mister Bigfoot's left hand working its way up and down his front, his dick enjoying the attention. And there was his right hand doing the same to Doug's bare cock, teasing the foreskin up and down by a few millimeters. Just the way Doug did it under the covers in the darkness praying no one could hear "damn..."
"Well?" he whispered back, to him? Doug?
"Damn..." from Doug "don't... please..."
"Mark, ask your friend if he wants a towel" using his real name. How did he know?
"Moose... call... me... Moose okay?" he started getting out of breath, feeling himself swelling against the cotton, the guy's hand starting a slow pressing into the one spot on Moose's nads only he and Ern knew about "damn not there!"
"Why not?" running his finger under Moose's thick ballsac, to the spot beneath them between his thick legs "here?"
"Shit stop..." Doug looked down at himself, Moose doing the same. The guy was barely pressing Doug's cock, but it was filling fast, the thick wide cockhead stretching the skin taut, doubling the width of the rest of his dick with only a finger or two. Mister Bigfoot's hand pressed down at the base of Doug's cock and his head popped free, a fat red crown mushroom attached to a thin white stem. Doug was panting and trying to cover himself with his own hands. Bigfoot released the grip
"Have I made my point?" his other hand worming its way between Moose's thick legs, that pressure point going right to Moose's prostate, what Ern called "flipping the switch". Because once he started massaging Moose there, Moose turned to putty under his thumb, and he would agree to anything "well?"
"How did you --"
"No time now" his hands returned to his own front, his own cut dick just sticking out of his crotch like it was the most normal thing in the world "explain later, the end is near now --"
"What?"
"But if I have your attention gentlemen" he grabbed Moose's left hand and brought it around to his front "or do you two need towels..."
"But I ain't..." Doug was not sure what to do, he had never been more turned on. This dude knew exactly how to torture him, knew exactly how to make his dick respond, like he had been spying on him in the most private secret moments of his life, watching Doug bring himself off in the darkness.
And if he knew how to get his turned on, did he also know what got him turned on? No that can't be! Doug never told anybody! But with Moose right next to him...
"You ain't what?"
"I mean... no... it's just..." Doug looked to Moose, the panic and desperation very plain to see.
"What 'dumbfuck' here--"
"Don't call Doug that... Mark" the guy half-turned "no don't say anything. We're friends here, okay?"
"You know our names" Doug asked?
"Later gentlemen..." he held Moose's hand tight to his hip "and no Doug, you ain't gay okay? Any more than Mark, Moose if you prefer, is a high diver -- no don't protest. Now listen carefully, both of you" he whispered more softly, deflecting one of two turned heads "when I say the word you head for the showers-- "
"What?" Doug whispered back, a head turning towards him.
"--and keep going don't stop, keep going until you find the dressing room in back, and then the hallway back to the kitchen--"
"But!"
"--and stay in the kitchen with Billy and Klu and whoever else is there. You will find some potatoes there need peeling--"
"You crazy?"
"--when I say the word you move like lightning got it? 'Lightning' got it?"
"Who are you?"
"Doug? Moose? 'Lightning' got it?"
"Okay okay 'lightning', got it" Moose looked at Doug who was trying to cover his enormous hardon with some success "Doug okay?"
"Okay... okay..."
"Fine" Mister Bigfoot leaned back "until then you're in good hands" and they were. Doug felt those fingers back around the base of his cock. As did Moose's balls.
"But just so you know--"
"We both know..." Mister Bigfoot grabbed Moose's hand and placed it right on his bare cock, then returned it to Moose's crotch "you are not gay. We are clear now okay?"
"'Lightning'..." Moose whispered back, the stranger's hand in that same spot he snuggled his hand just before he fell asleep most nights "we got it."
"Fine..." he nodded his head, directing their attention back to Kroos' ordeal.
Billy Hammes looked around, clutching the towel to his front like crazy. Little groups of guys were clumping together here and there, and he was not sure he wanted any part of it. As long as he stayed naked and covered with this skimpy towel, he felt safe, naked and safe, he smirked at the irony. The other adult he could see who was going for the same tactic was the fat guy with the camera. He hoped and prayed it was just a prop, another weird boneheaded idea to add to all the other boneheaded ideas flying around the place like alarmed bats now. But that guy had his part to play in all this, but Billy had nothing to do but stand around and looked slightly alarmed. He knew his bud Stan was out there in the darkness, laughing his head off, just biding his time until he could leave here and tell the world what a fuckup Billy was. Or worse. Billy knew that if he started spreading rumors about being this big fag then Stan would be caught in the same trap as well.
Or so he assumed. But right now all he could think about what how he could survive this evening with his virginity, as it were, intact. And wearing -- or rather holding -- this towel was enough to let everyone know to keep this hands off his bod! And so far it was working. But that was little satisfaction or payback for the fact his towel was doing a super job of hiding how turned on he was by all this. Billy did not know if it was just being around all these horny idiots or something else. Hell, he could almost smell the sex in the air, and standing there watching this super-buff guy get the king of blowjobs from the doc, the same guy who put him and Stan through all those tests, the machines hooked up to them causing their bodies to respond like he did not know the male body could respond, seeing his cock blow gallons of cum again and again, watching his bud Stan blowing as well, sometimes at the same moment, damn! he had to stop thinking about that, his cock was already harder than steel and just begging for a little lovin attention. But damn if he was gonna stand here jackin his meat like these other dudes! But the thought of his bud Stan out there in the darkness jacking his cock watching this was too sick and too hot rolled into one. His towel pressed down on his bone, trying to make it go away. But it only kept getting bigger and bigger.
Kroos could feel Mark's cock pressing deeper and harder into his throat, knowing he could not last much longer. Kroos tried slowing the pace but that only made Mark's breathing more ragged and frantic. So Kroos did the only thing he could; he pulled away giving that throbbing dick some air.
As he did a rectangular section of wall, maybe two by three feet wide, separated from the back wall and with a loud crash fell the five feet down onto one of the benches, breaking into several pieces as it did. Through the new opening appeared Gus's red shocked face,
"Sorry! I didn't -- I mean..."
"Fuuuccccck!!!" screamed Mark at the sudden surprise and almost didn't get the head back into Kroos' open mouth before he started blowing his load. The first shot hit Kroos right on his cheek, the second was swallowed with a certain emphasis and then Mark's hand took over, pumping the last of his orgasm down Kroos' chin and chest.
"What the hell?!?!" from Gus' shocked face, seeing Mark blowing his load all over Kroos, then seeing that red face in the new window he yanked his shorts up and dove towards the shower room like he was doing high hurtles. He was gone before anyone could take a breath.
"Mort!" Moose heard from the console and turned,
"Yeah?" as all eyes turned to the three of them, all hard, all with their hands on cocks other than their own.
"N-n-n-NO! that's okay Gu-Gerry" Mort yelled, hoping to regain the momentum seeing the careful plans disintegrating before his eyes "nothin to worry about, everything's under control!" picking up some of the broken pieces, trying to drown out the reactions coming from the guys on stage. He gathered the boards and handed them up to Gus, who was crouched down, looking through the opening. He took them from Mort and tossed them onto what looked like the scaffolding he was on. When he stood up again, the new window provided a view of his coveralls and those of someone next to him, from the knees to mid-waist. The sound of the sawing and hammering quieted when someone abruptly turned it down. It could not have been more fake if they tried.
"Wait there for more instructions" Mort recited his line to the opening, or rather to the two crotches showing through the new opening.
"Okay now you guys understand what a couple of sex-crazed dudes we found here before?" Arn looked at Mort.
"R-r-right, you heard the coach. See how bad it was when we found--"
"Bad? Shit that looked like fun!" from the thin guy between Matt and Brian's friend "who's next?" almost grabbing himself through his boxers. He also was wearing the current fashion of t-shirt and shorts, but up to that point no one had taken him up on his offer. He hoped to change his luck.
"Very funny...Rick" Bernan tried to glare at him, but judging from the guy's reaction, his guess at a name was wide of the mark.
"So buddy" Rick looked at Kroos "who put y'up to this? That muscle dude's idea or yours?"
"M-m-my idea" Joel stood up from where he had been resting his butt "I m-made Kr-Chris do it. He didn't want to but I told him if he didn't I--"
"Shut up Joe..." Kroos crouched down, resting the shoe on the floor to get the pressure off his stretched balls.
"If y'didn't what?" from Mister Doughboy, all ears now.
"Be quiet okay?" Kroos closed his eyes, knowing Joel's misguided attempt to protect him was going to backfire if he did not shut up. Kroos knew how Joel would babble his neck right into the noose if allowed.
"No I mean..." seeing Kroos' shaking his head frantically "no... forget it.
I didn't say nothin."
Arn looked at Mort then at Bernan, nodding at the hole Mark left with his departure. They knew they needed a player for the next scene, and Joel was all but jumping up and down volunteering.
"What's yer name kid?" Bernan asked, knowing full well who Joel was.
"Ah... Joe, coach..." Joel looked at Kroos, thrusting out his jaw, waiting for the blow.
"What made y'think Chris here would go through with it?"
"With what?" Joel panicked, fearing this was all going to come out, right here right now.
"With giving blowjobs in the locker room!" Mort saw Joel's panic "what'd y'think we were talkin about?"
"Don't--" Kroos started but Joel was hitting his stride,
"Like I'm gonna tell you! I ain't no informer!"
"Yeah y'tell'm!" from Brian and Matt, not knowing who to side with at this point, Joel being the best -- or worst -- bet now "us Miners ain't rats!"
"Right!" Joel shot them both weird looks "we ain't no fuckin rats!"
"I'm ordering ya!" Arn shook his considerable fist in Joel's face "tell us now what ya meant!"
"Ain't happenin!" Joel folded his arms, squaring off with Arn, guessing this was part of the script he didn't get to. When Arn grabbed Joel's hefty shoulder and yanked him half-way across the room Joel realized he guessed wrong.
"OWWWWW!" Joel yelled, his arm almost wrenched from its socket.
"Whatsa matter?" Arn looked at Bernan, daring him to intervene "y'step in somethin? All this shit on the floor y'better put somethin on those feet!"
"NO!" Kroos yelled, knowing what he was intending "forget it!"
"What?" Joel pulled free "since when are you so worried about my welfare?" and to Kroos horror yanked open one of the closer lockers and pulled out a pair of someone's brown shoes. If Kroos had not been crouching on the floor he might have made it to Joel in time; instead he only stopped him from getting the second shoe on his foot "it's cool, they ain't mine" Joel yanked his leg from Kroos "so coach..." Joel hopped away from Kroos on his one covered foot "y'were saying...?"
"Joe NO!" Kroos tried to stop him one last time.
"Do me a favor" Joel looked at Bernan "tell Chris here he got bigger worries than a kid missin a shoe" turning to Kroos "okay? Okay?" and whispering "it's too late now. We both gotta do what we gotta do... okay?" and Kroos relented, his tortured balls winning the argument.
"So y'still ain't tell us what your part in this is..." Mort modified the line only slightly.
"And you won't... Morrie" Joel rolled his eyes "you dense or somethin?"
"Y'just askin for it kid" Arn went over to Joel, putting his hand on Joel's shoulder and squeezing "what's it gonna be, the easy way or the hard way."
"Guessin how much this turns ya on" Joel stared him down "hard way... coach."
"You asked for it punk" Arn grabbed for Joel's waistband expecting him to freak and fly over the back wall, no net. Instead Joel smirked,
"Yeah, knew y'couldn't wait to get your fruity hands on a real cock!" knowing the big dude could not deck him in front of all these witnesses. Not that Joel was looking for a broken jaw; he just wanted to get this over with, once and for all. So when Arn yanked down his shorts, ripping them in the process, Joel put his arms behind his back, daring him to do his worst "too bad that totally hot wife of yours Jerry ain't here to see this!" knowing that was a swift kick to Arn's balls. Arn was too shocked to respond, but the sudden beet-red face told Joel he hit a homerun!
"Yer gonna regret that" Arn whispered in his ear.
"Yeah she's a total babe" Joel almost screwed up the pronoun "imagine her watchin ya playing with my dick! Bet she'd get all wet seein ya blow me next!"
"Gimme that!" Arn yelled at Mort, pointing at the tube next to him "now!"
There was some protest from around the room, but not a word from Joel as he felt Arn's hand smear his cock with the green goo. At first Joel thought his Viagra-toxic system was too numb to register the stuff after all he'd put his cock through in the last twenty-four. But all it did was slow down the inevitable tingling and then burning. He looked down, his cock now both hard AND shiny now. He had a hunch where this was going.
"Get that off me!" Joel hoped the false tone in his voice did not register too strongly "it hurts!" like it always did, he reminded himself. At least now he wasn't strapped to a chair in the burning sun, his arms pure agony, with the guys threatening him with imminent castration. Yeah, they had no idea who they were fuckin with!
"Y'gonna tell us?"
"Tell ya what I keep forgetting" Joel looked at the group, expecting to see a few shocked faces, maybe Matt displaying his disapproval at Joel's gross display. But all the faces were registering something between lust and apprehension. Those that were not more involved in their own little antics, that is.
"Kid they're just gonna make this worse for ya" Mister Doughboy took some pics before Joel broke down and poured his guts outs. Joel kept guessing the disposable camera was a prop. That was until he saw the guy run it to the end and pull a second one from his locker. Damn, there are a thousand cameras recording every square inch of exposed flesh up here, Joel thought, what is with this dude?
"That's you scene huh?" Joel taunted him "acting all straight'n shit but then pervin over your pics later, jackin til your dick's bleedin huh?"
"Watch yer mouth kid" he put his camera down, at least that part worked.
"Don't worry... Doughboy, right? don't worry, all the dirty words'll be bleeped out so you can watch this with the kiddies" Joel looked at Kroos "regular training movie right?"
"Don't think the kid's gonna talk" Bernan looked at Mort "any ideas?" how to get back on track?
"Let's see how he likes the shit coverin his balls!" from Arn the sadist.
"No not that!" Joel meant it this time. But with Mort holding his arms, Arn smeared a green coating on Joel's nads. That got him howling fast.
"Get it off! Get it OFF! Awhhwow" Joel gritted his teeth, closing his eyes "okay okay..."
"Okay what?" Arn bounced Joel's cock a few times with his palm "don't you like this?"
"Okay okay I give" Joel kept his eyes closed, not daring to look at Kroos, knowing he was failing the test, not holding up his side of the bargain.
"I thought you liked this?" Arn was not letting Joel's cock or balls alone "your dick sure looks like you are enjoying this..."
"I give, okay?" Joel glared at Arn "you win. Just get this shit off me! My dick's gonna explode if I don't clean this -- "
"You wanna shower?" Arn looked at Mort "you wanna shower like these dudes were doin when your friends were pervin on them, trading blowjobs -- "
"But you -- "
"Okay we'll let ya get that green shit off yer dick" Arn looked at Mort who looked away "but we tell ya when... and how."
"Whatdya mean 'how'?" Joel looked at Arn, then at Mort who was almost avoiding his gaze.
"If ya wanna get yer dick cleaned off, I'll tell ya how y'can clean it off."
"How?" Joel regretted asking it as soon as the word left his mouth.
"Y'can clean it off..." Arn did not look at him, keeping his eye on Kroos' reaction "in yer buddy's hole!" but Joel could not have heard that right!
"What?"
"Well Joe-Joseph" Arn directed Joel's attention to Kroos again "you heard what the coach said. You want that shit off yer dick or not?"
"I ain't hearin ya right" Joel looked at Kroos then at the guys and men standing around on the stage. Did they really expect, did the whole damn room really think he was going to fuck Kroos in front of all of them? The thought was impossible! But his dick was telling him otherwise!
"You and your assistant coach here were obviously got some history" Mort sounded like this was right off the page now "setting him up with your naked teammates showering. And worse we have guests here, adults, who were involved, and making your own coach do that!" looking around the stage, trying to stir up the appropriate indignation. A few of the guys were muttering and shouting out things, but the noise from in back made it uninteligible, "and worse you made him put his mouth on that guy's dick here like you planned. So now you two can just -- "
"Wait!" from Kroos "you can't expect Jo- I mean the kid here to -- "
"You would rather it be your green cock up his ass instead?" Arn looked at Kroos "is that it?"
"No I mean -- "
"Because that would really hurt the kid" Arn stepped over to Kroos pulling him to his feet, starting to playing with his green dripping cock "taking this club up his underage virgin ass right? So your choice, what's it gonna be?"
"Okay okay but..." Joel cut in "don't let him hurt me" he almost winked at Kroos "if I have to do that, I'll do that. Just lemme get this off my balls before I die here!"
"You heard the kid" Mort glared at Arn who tossed him a dirty towel and a bottle of water. Joel was rinsing his reddened flesh as fast as he could, cleaning his dick in the process.
By this point the noises coming from the stage as well as the guys on the chairs was getting out of control. Mister Johson/Jones appeared from somewhere and with Mister Smith went to quiet a new commotion in the chairs.
While Mort removed the shoe from Kroos' tortured balls and pointed him over to the bench, Arn went back to the gripbag Rocko's group left, and started rummaging in it. While he did Mister Johnson/Jones was talking to the the seated , or not seated, group.
"Gentlemen" he looked around, almost pushing several back into their seats "let us have no more rustlings of disapproval. All of you came here to see the doctor humiliated and punished, and a few of you" he looked right at Big Hank for some reason " were expecting to see something along these current lines. I'm sorry to say it's too late for anyone to leave" looking next at Willis "so you will have to suffer..." his gaze moving to several guys in the front row, or rather their crotches "the rest of tonight's entertainment. But I can see you are not... suffering too badly" he looked at Chuck, then Gil, then especially at Juan "in fact you seem to be quite..." his gaze at Juan's crotch made him lose his train of thought "well never mind. Now..." he walked up and down the row "I can see that many if not all of you are... let's say at full... attention" stopping in front of the fifth guy, whose lack of underwear now revealed his bare hardon in all its glory, the guy's hand to his right moved so Mister Johnson/Jones got a better view. His own hard-on was being slowing jacked by the restaurant guy to his side as well "it appears that everyone has been having a hard..." looking back at Juan's crotch "time, some much harder than others, time keeping your hands on your neighbor's cock. And some of you are allowing the stimulation of a stranger's hand to bring you to full erection, without alerting me as I previously asked you to.. Alright, we will have to do something about that. Everyone turn their hand over, palm side up. We'll see if this.. backhanded treatment is as... stimulating" he watched as one by one they started to flip their left hand over, several crotches, and some bare cocks, flipping upward in the process.
"And if anyone in spite of this still manages to bring their neighbor to... full satisfaction" he looked at Juan's crotch again, his smile giving his face a smug look "they will be joining the group on stage in front of the cameras" he looked at Juan's cock straining the front of his shorts, the dramatic outline exposed when mister redhead paused to scratch himself on the chin, almost making a point of giving mister jones a better look. Mister Johnson/Jones went back to the mixing board and had a quick conference with Mister Smith, even calling Mort over to confer, both stealing glances in Juan's direction. Juan got a sinking feeling his time on the safe side of the cameras was ending. And that redhead dude next to him was not making his night any easier. Even with the back of his hand he was doing a real good job keeping Juan hard and distracted. Several times Juan glanced over at the dude's boxers and could not help but notice a small dark stain growing where the end of his dick pushed against the material, right along his left hip where the fabric was folded. So when that guy's knuckles started to apply a rubbing pressure against Juan's cockhead, Juan thought he better take evasive action. He eased his free right hand up and into the gap between his and Red's left hip, feeling a small jump from Red in response. He did not need to look at him to know a bright red blush was returning to his face. Juan did his best to keep a straight face, knowing Red's face was starting to glow like a traffic light even in the dim light back where they were pressed together in the semi-darkness. And when Juan's two fingers started to worm their way into the leg opening of Red's shorts, Juan hoped he would get the hint and back off. Keep torturing my dick and I'm gonna do the same to you! For a while the threat kept Red's hand from the constant up and down rubbing, but when they saw Kroos being led over to the wooden bench, his backside to the cameras and the audience, then being forced to lean forward, his hairy butt muscles flexing for their attention, Red's hand pressed down into Juan's shaft, too distracted for precision.
Next to Juan, the big blond Chuck could do little but keep his bud's cock hard and even leaking a bit. He came to the realization he could keep Gil in this condition for hours if he wanted to, debating whether to push him over the edge or not, not sure how much to torture the guy. He was considering his options when he saw Kroos bent over the bench, his hairy ass pointing right at him it seemed. Damn, but the view of such a big meaty butt got a couple of hard throbs out of his meat to his sudden concern, glad that big mexican on his right had flipped his palm over so his own cock could come down from the dangerously high level of stimultion. Regardless, Chuck felt himself plump to full rock-hard, and damn but if the Mexican didn't turn his head and give Chuck's crotch a good eyeballing. Chuck turned to him to stare him down, and that's when he noticed what the hell was going on between him and the red-haired guy beside him. But his gaze could not help but take in what was half-covered by Red's left hand. The head of Juan's cock was threatening to break out of his fuckin pantsleg!. And the big mexican's boxer shorts were almost to his knees, for crissakes! Juan's cock must have been close to a foot long, stretching down his left leg, the head tangled up in the folded last two inches of the material. If Juan's thighs were not so thick and the material stretched so tight, that cockhead would have been out the opening a long time ago, but the folded tightness was doing its job, intentional or not. That's when Chuck glanced and saw Juan starting to inch two, then three of his fingers into Red's boxers, wanting to get at that dude's cock for whatever reason. Chuck had to conclude real fast he had two live red-blooded homos next to him. He nudged Gil and nodded over at them. Gil let out a low whistle and muttered something in spanish. Chuck slid down lower in is his chair so he could lean closer to Gil,
"What?" he whispered without turning, hoping not to attract any attention to what was going on. But everyone was more concerned watching Kroos' cheeks being spread by Mort and Arn, and someone he could not recognize under his helmot had picked up something Chuck could not see, no then he saw it. A goddamn dildo? Or maybe, yeah it was a mutherfuckin buttplug and they were greasing it up but good. Chuck felt Gil's cock start to dampen the back of his hand, a burp of pre-cum oozing through his dark blue nylon micros.
"Donkey kong dick" Gil translated, whispering out of the side of his mouth "switch places?"
"You total loco?" Chuck hissed back "y'wanna totally fuck yerself up or what?"
"Sheeet" Gil kept stealing looks over at them "lemme see it if you don't..."
"See what?" Chuck turned slightly, trying to see where Gil was looking. As he feared, Gil was almost leaning forward, trying to look past his big torso over to what Juan and Red were doing "forget it!"
"Dude!" Gil hissed louder, turning a few heads. Chuck pulled away from him, hoping the sudden attention would return to the stage. Slowly it did.
But when Gil elbowed him, Chuck knew his bud was not letting up. He leaned next to him "dude you're gonna pay..." and that stopped the elbow in his side. But Gil's peripheral vision was working overtime, keeping one eye on the stage and one towards Chuck and company. After a moment or two he saw Chuck's right paw start a slow crab-like crawl down his right leg, almost too slow to notice at first. But the more he watched the more it looked like Chuck's paw started to press against the big mexican's left hip. At first Juan squirmed and tried to push is away with his left elbow, keeping the back of his hand in Chuck's lap. Eventually Juan realized he could not stop the steady creeping of Chuck's fingers without moving his elbow enough to lift his own hand from Chuck's lump. And when he felt Chuck's fingers travel down to the leg band of his boxers and unkink the folded hem he feared what this dude was planning. So Juan was forced to retaliate, using his first and second knuckles to coax the bastard's cock into an upright position, inching the head up and the waistband down, exposing the top three inches of his hard-on, hoping that would get him to back off. Instead Chuck used the time to slide two of his fingers under the leg band of Juan's boxers, squeezing the fat head of his wet cock out of the stretched opening an inch or two. And with the material stretching under Chuck's fingers, it did not take long for him to stretch the seam to the breaking point. Only Chuck and Juan could hear the cotton material give way, as the leg of the boxers split, exposing the better part of Juan's cock. Chuck withdrew his hand and let Red do the rest. But Chuck could not help but notice the cool air now hitting his exposed cockhead, feeling the pincers of Juan's two knuckles inching the waistband further down his hard exposed cock. When he felt Juan's little finger slip under the elastic he knew he had screwed himself big time. And that Gil shit was the one gonna pay the price.
He heard a slight grunt or chuckle escape from Juan, either because Juan's bare cock was now being massaged in earnest by Red's knuckles or because Juan had succeeded in pulling Chuck's waistband down the length of his cock and with a flick of his pinky finger flipped it beneath Chuck's tight nutsack, trapping his goods in a tight vulnerable bundle, completely exposed.
But when he heard Juan give a stifled cough Chuck turned away from him, stealing a sideways at Gil who was almost bug-eyed. Not at Juan, as Chuck expected, but rather down at his own cock. Gil was opening staring at Chuck's fully exposed crotch, his own cock throbbing under Chuck's damp wrist. Chuck looked down and sure enough, Gil's cock was throbbing -- the bastard was blowing his load!
Chuck yanked his wrist off Gil's sticky briefs fast. Between that and Gil's loud grunts they attracted more attention than Gil -- or Chuck for that matter -- would have wanted.
"Dude what's yer problem?!" Chuck hissed at him, trying to wipe the back of his hand on Gil's t-shirt, like it was acid burning him or something.
"Daaaamn..." Gil moaned, still looking down at what was sticking out of Chuck's crotch. The times Gil had seen Chuck naked he could count on one hand. But never totally pumped and primed like this. It was an channel he flipped past usually, but never would linger over, much less stayed glued to, but it was always there. So when all the shit started happening back in the car, Gil almost swallowed his tongue! At first it was some stupid jock stype oneupsmanship with Chuck. Because if there was one thing Chuck hated was being punked. So when this big high school kid started fucking with Chuck, all Gil could do was sit back and watch it go down, smart enough to keep his mouth shut. He was expecting maybe an exchange of insults or maybe a bit of dancing at the gas station back in Falls. But when Chuck started filling out his jeans, and then the other dude seemed to be egging him on more, Gil was too shocked to even consider a comment. Shocked and horned! And the idea of just having a good meal was enough evening's entertainment by itself. And besides, Gil thought, once Chuck had some food in him and realized how stupid all this was, all this dangerous craziness would end. He would elbow him saying, ha! big joke! fooled ya! and that would be the end of it.
Gil would have been happy to pay the bill and get the hell out of there. But when that owner guy, Mel? Morry? said they could eat for free if they stuck around... well, that was too weird to be real, right? He knew Chuck would never go for any of it. But when Chuck shrugged and said, what d'we gotta lose? Gil saw the quicksand around their ankles rising fast. And if Chuck suspected it would turn into something kinky freaky! with guys! no way he woulda agreed, right? But when they sat down in these tiny seats, and then hadda pull down their pants, that's when he knew Chuck would say, this is fag shit! we're outa here! But he didn't! At that point Gil saw all bets were off. And when he heard Chuck hadda make contact with his dick, he knew this was like totally off the hook! There's no way Chuck would agree to touch his leg, much less anything else! So when Gil suggested switching places because he wanted to get a better look at the homey next to Chuck, and see if that thing was real or some chorizo he stuffed down his shorts, he knew Chuck would deck him then and there. But his elbow in Chuck's rib, and nodding at that guy's shorts was enough distraction, hoping Chuck didn't figure out having switching seats and then his hand would be on Chuck's dick instead... man... but getting Chuck to pimp out that guy next to him, even putting his hand on the big mexican's cock, he knew at that point Chuck would look at him and say, okay joke's over, you win. But no! He actually did it! So between seeing Chuck, his straight buddy Chuck, actually fondle some big-dicked mexican, at the same time having his own huge hardon finally exposed for all to see -- especially Gil! -- and Chuck's hand giving his own very hard dick a steady stroking.... bang! Gil's cock just started pumping out weeks of jizz!
"Gentlemen" Mister Johnson/Jones turned at the commotion "do we have a problem here?"
"Dude here blew a load" Chuck was busy trying to clean the back of his hand on Gil's thigh "sick huh?"
"Well you know the agreement -- "
"What agreement?" Gil looked at Chuck "I didn't -- "
"Come with me" Mister Johnson/Jones almost lifted him out of the chair "no just like that" seeing Gil trying to put on his pants.
"No way! He's the one! You said" Gil looked back at Chuck "dude!!!"
"Pay the piper bud" Chuck was just relieved he was not the one being singled out. But Juan leaned over and whispered "you a mutherfucker doin that to --"
"What?" looking around at the other guys, gauging their reactions as well.
"You set him UP dude!"
"Maybe.."
"You said anyone makin anyone cum was -- " Gil was looking to Chuck for help.
"I did?" Mister Johnson/Jones drilled a look right into Chuck's face "that right?"
"Hey I ain't--"
"You're next" Mister J "escorted" Gil towards the stage, tossing his shorts aside in the process.
"You set up your own bud. That's a shitty -- "
"Little fag had it coming-- "
"We'll see who's the fag..." and Juan licked the back of his hand and slapped it against Chuck's dick, making him jump a good foot off the chair. When he felt the slippery surface start to rub up and down the underside he glared at him.
"Knock it off!"
"Your ante, remember?" looking down at his own massive exposed cock, hardly covered by Red's knuckles.
"That was the little dude's idea not mine."
"But you went along -- "
Mister Johnson/Jones returned from the stage after giving Gil some instructions. Gil was not happy hearing what he was supposed to do. But Mister J returned to his spot in front of Chuck,
"You seem good at jerking off guys -- "
"Watch yer mouth!" oh shit, here it comes. Instead Mister J looked at someone behind him.
"Okay you!" pointing at Baby Huey in the back row.
"Who me?" Jimmy's hand flew out the lap of the guy next to him, covering himself.
"Yeah you" Mister J pointed at Gil's vacated seat "up here!"
"Shit do I haveta?"
"Or y'wanna be the next one up on that stage?"
"Fuck no!" Jimmy and Chuck both shouted. But Jimmy just squirmed in his chair, fearing everyone in the audience section was zooming in on him now. No way he wanted to stand up, and squeeze his bulk up to the front row. He had been totally relieved to be assigned the back row, with no one's hand in his crotch as well. He would have been completely mortified to have some dude grab him in the crotch and smirk at his "baby huey" dick. But all that changed in an instant.
"Let somebody else..." Jimmy looked around "somebody -- "
"Let me!" a big red-moustached guy in the back row started to stand, his fat beer-can cock stabbing the air.
"No you!" pointing at Baby Huey "now!"
"Damn..." Jimmy reached under his chair, picking up his pants and covered his crotch with them. He eased out of his seat and came around the back of the row, crawling his way to the front row. He looked at the Carl sitting in the next chair, fearing a comment or snide comment, but he actually smiled at him and patted the empty chair,
"Chill Huey" he whispered "relax."
Jimmy eased into the chair, hoping Mister Jo would now just leave. He did.
Jimmy was a bit shocked when that Chuck guy almost pushed the wadded up bundle of his pants off his crotch, ready to get his hand into Jimmy's crotch. When he did he let out a quiet growl,
"Sheeyet" he half-turned "What the hell kinda dick is that?" looking down into Jimmy's crotch "how old are you, ten?"
But Jimmy was too mortified to breathe, much less say anything. He wanted to die right then and there, feeling his dick shrivel to nothing. He was about to jump out of his chair, regardless of the consequences, when Carl said,
"Switch with me Huey" and silently got out of his chair. Jimmy did his best to slide his bulk over to Carl's warm chair while he slid over to his.
"You so hot for dick" Carl smirked at him "grab that!" grabbing Chuck's hand and slamming it down into his crotch. Chuck yanked it away like it was red hot!
"No fuckin way!" Chuck panicked now "I don't touch no -- "
"You so squeamish all a sudden?" Carl grabbed his hand again "or y'rather join yer pussy boy up there!"
"Shuttup!" Chuck hissed, but eased his hand, face up, back onto Chuck's crotch. Even like that he could feel the significant lump in the kid's shorts.
"All yours, straight boy" Carl whispered "but you make me cum like you did your boy and your ass is mine, got it?"
Chuck just glared and looked straight ahead. Once he settled down, there was Juan's hand, re-moistened with his spit, back on his softened cock. As Juan coaxed it back to full size, Chuck started to realize how horned up he had let himself get. He almost feared that this steady sneaky stroking could bring him close to cumming. Damn, what did he get himself into!
All he wanted was to show that big dumbass jock in the car who was boss. Maybe rough him up a bit, and if things went real well, maybe even getting the fuckhead on his knees with his mouth open! Yeah, get him to suck a load from his bud Gil. Just to blow his mind. He was starting to suspect his bud was maybe open to something kinky-sick like that. And he had such a fuckin hero worship thing going. So if Chuck told him to shove his cock into some faggot's mouth, shit he might even do it! And seeing that big jock brought down a notch was too sweet to miss. So when this whole shit with the dinner and all went down, all he wanted was to see how far he could push it. But he soon realized what he planned and what they planned were not coming together at all. So all Chuck hoped to do was sit back and shut up until someone or something fucked up and then he and Gil could slip out the backdoor. Boy, did that ever not work out! Now here he is sitting with his hard dick out for the whole fuckin world to gawk at, Gil's jizz still sticky on his hand, some monster-dicked mexican trying t'break his balls, and to make matters worse, first he hasta touch some fat no-dicked kid in the crotch, and now some horny high-school kid thinks he's just scored big making Chuck's hand grab his meat! Damn that asshole in the car!
Carl eased back in his chair, happier than shit some bastard jerk hadda finger his bone! Just the thought of that gave his dick a throb or two. And the jerk had it coming, trying to fuck with Baby Huey like that. Just because the kid ain't hung like normal, ain't no reason to be fuckin with him. Carl dropped his hand into Jimmy's lap like they were the best of buds. Hell they were on the team and all, so that made this almost acceptable, not like they were kissing or shit! Or worse! After all he was another Miner. But still...
When he felt the fat little dick start to respond to his hand, he whispered,
"Relax Huey. We're cool" and gave it a soft squeeze before working down to Jimmy's nuts. What he lacked in the dick department, he almost make up in the nuts department. The kid had a nice warm handful there, so Carl contented himself with giving Baby Huey's balls a lot of attention. And he seemed to be enjoying it, judging by the low moans coming from him.
So when that Mister J turned back and saw the rearrangement, and did not say anything, they all settled down, again their full attention on what they were doing to Kroos. And what they were doing to Kroos trumped anything going on in their crotch...