The Exam

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. Your patience during the time it took to submit this latest installment is greatly appreciated.

Now, back to our show --

Chapter Eight-eight

Saturday Aug 10 continued

"Once you begin to see what's really going

on in the world, you won't see the future.

Forget about prophecies.

We're just talking about what's happening now...

William Irwin Thompson

"Holy shit!!" came from several directions at one, not the least was Chuck, standing there dripping wet, Juan's ripped soggy shorts barely covering but not hiding his nice piece of meat. Suddenly he regretted ripping the seam along the thigh, looking down and seeing his left ball hanging free. He tried to adjust and cover but that only drew more attention to the two of them. He did what any stud would do in the situation; he hid behind Mark's naked back, almost throwing Juan to the cameras in the process.

"Holy hell!" from Doughboy Senior, seeing the newest additions to the group "who are these two?"

"They were finishing their reviews of the... of the other athletes... and..." Mark looked at Bernan and Arn, desperate for a cue.

"Well y'brought them to the right place" Arn not missing a beat "especially..." especially the big-dicked mexican, he almost said. He knew where that oversized firehose was headed, but had to concoct the ruse to get Juan into place "why don't you get these two some dry clothes..." Arn indicated the lockers closest to where Moose was swallowing Rocko's cock sticking through the opening in the wall.

"Best idea I heard all night" Chuck broke free of Mark, grabbed someone's towel before they could react and was through the stage door before Bernan could grab him. He jumped after him through the door, followed by Mark. Seeing the exodus, Juan was not one to stand around dripping wet, feeling all eyes and cameras directed at his see-through boxers showing what stretched down his pants leg.

Seeing the vacuum of critical characters on stage Moose did what came natural. He started posturing for the camera, hoping to see where it might lead.

"Hey... coach!" Moose yelled, seeing who might respond to that title. Tag, Mort's it!

"What?" all but putting his foot in the trap.

"Looks like the coach... I mean the other coach here" Moose came around behind Kroos' spread ass "is getting a cramp" hoping to block the camera from getting a close-up of Kroos' finger trying to find his hole "you okay?" he whispered down at Kroos.

"Hurry..." it sounded like Kroos was saying over and over. When Moose felt Kroos' hand find his hip then reach down to his stubbly groin, he knew what Kroos was saying. When Moose was put through his ordeal, when his own hole was plugged and stretched over and over, he got to the point having nothing plowing him was more agony than the plowing itself. And feeling Kroos' greasy hand rubbing up and down Moose's uncut head, and directing it to his hole, Moose knew the doc was suffering big time. The big hairy stud needed that next cock up him. And fast!

"You want me t'fuck ya?" Moose whispered down at him, seeing cameras and people shifting in his peripheral vision "is that it doc?"

"Yeah... yeah!" Kroos growled then his mouth was back on Rocko's eternal hardon.

"All... right!" Moose felt his dickhead getting slimed and firm as the hand squeezed him and stroked his foreskin back. If Moose was not hard when Kroos' grip found his trigger points, he was as that hand started directing him between those shiny cheeks.

"What the hell?!?!" Bernan snapped out of his fog, seeing what Moose was intending. He stood by as Brian destroyed himself on camera, but he could not allow Moose, the school's best chance for a state title this year, do the same, regardless of all the precautions those guys were supposedly taking with everyone's anonymity tonight "get away, Mo-Morrie!"

"Name's Mort, remember... coach?" Moose stood there, his hard cock homing into the target fast "can't a horny kid get a shot at the coach too?" looking at his cousin "or is buttfucking off limits to only us high school jocks?" pulling away from Kroos' hand to show them he meant business "cause I sure as hell am horny!" almost pointing it at Mort's face. Mort looked like he was about to have a stroke!

"Can't allow you t'do that!" Bernan expected Mort to step in and stop this, but seeing him standing there frozen, he had to take the bull by the horns. Or in this case, the Moose by the dick "go back where you were" using his great strength to steer Moose away from Kroos' backside. But Moose knew every countermove.

"Whatza matter... coach?" Moose used the force to spin Bernan's front close to Kroos "can't wait t'take your turn?"

"Knock it off!"

"C'mon..." Moose made a crazy grab for Bernan's belt buckle, knowing it was futile "can't tell me all this shit ain't got ya horny!"

"No!" Bernan knocked Moose's hand away before the belt was unfastened "I don't--"

"You tellin me y'ain't boned with all this?" another futile grab "or y'afraid!"

"Afraid?!?!" Bernan spun on him "I ain't afraid of--"

"Y'afraid of provin all the rumors right?" Moose pulled it out of the air "afraid ol 'fifteen-second Bern'-- I mean 'fifteen-second boner' can't keep his dick in there longer than that before shootin off? Hell, the whole team knows y'can't hold yer load longer than a minute!"

"What are you talkin about?"

"Everyone knows that's why you wife's had the whole team by now!" Moose jumped backwards as the fist came at his face "anything to get a fuck longer than ten seconds!" and ducked the next punch before Arn and then Mort pinned Bernan's arm long enough for him to stop throwing punches.

"You're a lying little piece of faggot shit!" he screamed and struggled, but Moose raised his hands signaling truce.

"Okay I'm a lying piece of shit!" Moose smirked "and you're gonna prove it!" nodding at Kroos "right here right now, in front of the whole team!"

"I don't fuck--"

"Longer than twenty seconds, I know!"

"You BASTARD!" Bernan lunged again but Moose knew all the counter-moves.

"Let's see if you can fuck like y'swear!" Moose continued the taunts "cause y'can't fight worth shit!"

"I'll make you pay... Moose" swearing under his breath "your days are numbered..."

"Fine... whatever" Moose glanced at his cousin "or y'want someone t'hold it for ya as well" glancing at Bernan's pants.

"Do it, do it, do it" came from some of the guys on stage. They knew it was their cue, but they were expecting it was to be for someone else. Obviously, the script was making another huge detour.

According to the script Joe Bernan had read, he was not going to be doing anything more strenuous tonight than making sure no one got out of hand, the bouncer at the door, the chaparone at the dance, as it were. When he got the call that afternoon, he told them to take a jump in the lake, nothing doing! After a great deal of negotiating, and several increases in the amount of the check, he agreed to put on the uniform and stand around looking studly. Studly and unattainable. Even with the backstage comments and "harmless" gropes from Mark and that new Arn guy, he knew he was horny enough to consider it, but NOT horny enough to do anything about it. But as the night progressed and things went from bad to worse, Joe knew he would have to walk a fine line to keep out of harm's way. And now with this crap from Moose of all people, he did not step over that line but felt himself tossed headlong past it, his head bouncing off the goalposts in the process.

He stood there watching Arn repositioning himself at Kroos' shoulders, feeding Rocko's cock to him that waiting mouth. Even Mort would not come to his defense now. Seeing Moose come up to him again and make another lunatic grab for his crotch, he knew he had to do something fast.

"I mean it coach! I'll hold it for ya if that's --"

"Yer in such a big hurry to get at my dick" Bernan tried "why don't ya fish it out with yer faggot mouth!"

"Deal!" Moose crouched down and started fumbling for the fly before Bernan pushed him away, his bluff called.

"Damnit!!" struggling to get at his fly, but not before Moose had managed to pull it open. Now he had to decide. Close it up and admit defeat or... he looked down and watched his hands pull the fly open the rest of the way. He watched the lights wheel into place, knowing he was past the point of return.

"Yeah coach... do it..." Moose egged him on "get that meatpole out and up! Hurry up before the coach here" patting Kroos on the rump "changes his mind!"

Before he knew what he was doing, Bernan had unsnapped and unhooked his football pants, and then his jockstrap was tugged down, his other hand pumping his meat fast. But not fast enough for Moose standing there, seeing the coach's muscles flexing, watching that tube grow in fist,

"Man... look at that thing!" Moose announced to the rest of the group "that thing's fuckin enormous!" motioned for that Rick guy to come over and join them. At first he suspected Moose was only jerking him around -- which he was -- but that hardon sticking out of Moose's stubbly crotch convinced him the kid was serious.

Bernan's steady stroking was starting to have the desired effect when Moose found what he was looking for. Before Bernan could stop him, Moose managed to squeeze out a large green glob of goo right where Bernan's right hand met the meat. He swore and tried to squeeze it off his sensitive dickhead but Moose threatened to give him more. He knew that meant his dick was heading no where but towards Kroos' crack.

"What is that shit?" the Rick guy twisted his head to get a better look. Moose used the distraction to smear the remainder on Rick's long tube, and enjoyed the show of it getting longer as Rick jumped around, trying to get it off him. By that point Rick was almost pushing Bernan out of the way to get a crack at Kroos' ass next. Moose had done his job, knowing Kroos' throbbing hole would not have that aching empty feeling for the rest of the night.

Mort was about to intercept him and tell him to beat it, but everyone except Kroos was surprised to see another crotch appear at the opening in the wall, the only lower in the hole and belonging to someone who had no hesitations about dropping trou and exposing his fat hard dick. Kroos' mouth went from Rocko's shaved crotch to Gus' bulldog of a dick in seconds flat, barely getting his mouth around it before he felt it start to throb and burb some pre-cum onto his tongue. Kroos' opened his eyes and through the tearing thought he noticed a shape position itself behind Gus' ample hips. All Kroos knew was Gus thrust his crotch forward against Kroos' nose, his deep yelping moan radiating down his body as someone -- who else but Ed? -- was sliding his dick between Gus' buttcheeks and from the spasming forward into Kroos' mouth meant that Long Dong Silver was burying itself deep inside Gus' ass.

Kroos shifting his mouth back to Rocko's permanent flagpole, hoping to give Gus a breather, and maybe adjust to that guided missile burrowing into his ass when Gus' hips gave a series of thrusts and Kroos felt something hot and sticky hit him on his left shoulder. He shifted his mouth to capture the last of Gus' orgasm when he felt that monster cock in him force itself all the way in, pushing into and then past his prostate and then Kroos saw stars.

He was too far gone to feel when Bernan's cock was pulled free of his stretched hole and another, thinner cock was slipped in replacing it. What it lacked in girth it made up in reckless slamming, the length equal to the task of hitting Kroos' knob in all the right places. Had he known, Kroos would been aware of his own cock starting to ooze down to the bench, a long clear sticky rope burping again and again puddling to the bench between his knees. But Kroos was barely aware of his surroundings at that point, only the two dicks thrusting into him from each end were keeping him from losing consciousness completely.

That was when Moose decided to select his next victim. As much as he wanted to go over to his cousin and rip those wet shorts off him and bury that twin dick down his throat he suspected there was someone else who was as eager for some hot mouth. He went over to his his straight friend Doug.

"Didn't ya say ya wanted some of that?" thumbing at Kroos being fucked by the Rick dude between Bernan's sessions.

"Who... me?" Doug sat there, like he had been hired to block Doughboy's crotch behind him. Moose guessed the two of them had reached some unique unspoken understanding, since both could not hide in the corner at once. And Mister Doughboy's disposable camera was now happy to record Kroos' performance from back there. So when Moose plopped his meaty ass down on the bench next to Doug's, both of the Doughboys knew trouble had come their way. Doug only hoped he was not the actual intended target of this one "naw... musta been your buddy here" knocking his head backwards into the large hairy bay window behind him. Doughboy Senior let out a deep grunt and burp, the ceasar salad not settling.

"That right?" Moose's hand traveled up Doughboy Sr's hard muscled thigh heading for paydirt. Again the big dude had no where to go without knocking the set over with a loud disastrous crash. Moose was betting that particular catastrophe would spoil the big sneak's plans. When his fingers grazed against Doughboy's large hairy balls, the guy let out a grunt and swore, but could do nothing but readjust his sweaty grip on his small plastic friend, the two shots wild in reaction.

"Nope not him" Moose smiled, his hand leaving the crotch behind Doug, and resting on his smooth shoulder instead "he's too old for anything that strenuous, might bring on a heart attack..."

"Who you callin old?" Doug heard behind him, the deep baritone radiating down his back. Then he felt Moose's hand trail down from his shoulder to his his hard smooth pec. Damn, didn't Moose forget anything?

"Easy with that, bonehead" Doug shot an exasperated look at Moose "keep that up and I just might want a turn..." looking down into his crotch, glad he was still wearing underwear, even if it was Doughboy's, all stretched and misshapen by that point.

"Y'gotta see this" Moose looked up towards Doughboy "y'ever seen somebody throw a rod without touchin it? Dougie -- I mean Doughboy Junior can, right?"

"C'mon Moo-Moonbutt" Doug elbowed him, hoping he would stop "cut it out!"

"Naw, it's like too cool... watch..." and Moose continued to rub Doug's pec, working down to what he knew was Doug's achilles heel. Once he started rubbing and tweaking Doug's nipple, the poor guy squirming and giggling, Moose knew it was all downhill "watch this..."

Doug tried to cover his crotch with his free hand, but Moose knocked it away, whispering "they wanna see real straight dick!" which brought a deep laugh from Doug. He moved his hand and as Moose rubbed and tickled, and Doughboy Seniors eyes bugged out his camera pointing downwards instead of Stage Left, Doug's -- or rather the guy's -- shorts starting filling with something trying to push its way upward. The fly was too stretched and loose to prevent Doug's mushroom head from pushing its way through the saggy opening, pushing out of the fly as it was trying to poke free of the foreskin at the same time. It was an amazing show for all three of them, luckily not attracting the attention of the cameras. By the time Doug was standing straight up, the fat head twice the width of the shaft, the red crown half out of the drum-tight foreskin, Moose's hand was back on Doughboy Senior's balls, feeling them crinkle and tighten against his knuckles.

"What the fuck you doing?!?" Mort materialized on the other side of Doug "you trying to get everyone--"

"Chill cuz" Moose whispered, but felt the lurch from Doughboy's crotch. The dude didn't know they were related? Moose's fevered brain started racing "just showin Doughboy here how t'throw a rod without touchin it."

"How's that?" Mort stepped in it.

"Lemme show ya" Moose eased off the bench, his half-hard hanging low, letting Mort know they were not talking about Moose's cock just then. Although the way Mort's eyes kept returning to Moose and his family jewels one never would have known.

"Naw that's fine" Mort tried backing away "I'll take your word for it..."

But Moose knew he was running out of time. If he was going to get his hands on this hot stud of a cousin, this image of Moose in fifteen years, older and more masculine, Moose "mach two" as it were, he would have to do something right now,

"C'mon I'll show ya..." Moose positioned himself between Mort and his escape path. He could not back up further without backing into Moose's uncut buddy downstairs "lemme show ya how I showed Doughboy here. How a guy can go from this" rubbing his palm ever so lightly down Mort's wet front "to crazy bone hard without any contact. Nothing touching his dick and y'can still go big. Right Doug?"

"Hey no names" Mort nodded at the camera, ignoring them up to this point.

"I won't use 'your' name..." Moose bent into Mort's ear "if y'let me show them."

"But..." Mort knew this was playing with fire, his own cousin and all. And Mort's dirty little secret was he some unfulfilled fantasies about the contents of his younger cousin's pants that anteceded Moose's j.o. fantasies about the contents of Mort's pants. Except neither were wearing pants at that exact moment. Which was probably the reason Mort relinquished the decision to Mort junior "but..."

"One minute..." Moose winked at Doug "gimme one minute. Betcha if I don't have ya hard and wimpering in one minute..."

"What?" Mort knew this was going to end badly either way "we're making a bet?"

"Yeah..." Moose wished the microphones could pick this up, so Ern and yeah, especially Big Hank could hear "I lose the bet, you..." whispering "anything you want... cuz... anything..."

"And... if..." Mort's heart was racing with the thought by itself, the first hot blood heading south "if... y'know... I lose...?"

"We... fuck..."

"What?!?!"

"I mean... fuck... we..." Moose caught Mort's wide-eyed expression "we... y'know... you... me... Kroos... right here... tonight. Got it?"

"But..." Mort looked at Doug and Doughboy, praying one or both would laugh and break the spell, releasing him from this. Or else a camera would see the alternate activity and swing in their direction. But right now all cameras, except Doughboy's plastic disposable, were too busy with the pounding Kroos was taking from that Rick dude alternating with Bernan, neither one wanting to punk out first. To top it off, Rocko had finally admitted defeat and pulled away from the opening, only to be replaced by Arn blocking it instead, Kroos head pulled down further towards his own crotch, forcing Kroos' butt higher and backwards into now Bernan's then Rick's angry thrusts.

"Starting... now..." Moose reached around and ran his hands up inside Mort's brown coach's shirt, rubbing up the similarly hairy belly, up to those big firm pecs, familiar and yet erotically different from his own, finding those two sweet nubs, rubbing them with the palms of his hands until he felt them start to respond "relax cuz, it's all good..." and started a slow steady pinching between his thumb and forefingers, the little nubs growing into large hard erasers, as Mort's barrel chest started rising and falling with his growing arousal. Moose could feel Mort's heart rate speeding up, this chest swelling again and again as Moose pulled Mort back into him, watching the reaction on Doughboy's and Doug's faces, twin sets of eyes running up and down Mort's front, then lingering longer and longer at Mort's crotch. Moose did not have to reach down to figure out his cousin was responding to his manipulations. Just the way Mort was panting and groaning told Moose he was winning the battle.

Mort closed his eyes, damning himself for having such sensitive nipples. And how did Moose figure that out? Unless Moose's were as sensitive? A family trait? All Mort knew that those fingers on his tits brought him to wood fast. And when he felt something hard pressing against his butt, he went from wood to iron even faster.

"Please... no..." Mort moaned, but knew he was fucked. When he opened his eyes to see Doughboy and Doug both staring at his crotch, he knew his wet shorts were hiding nothing "please stop... please..."

"You admit you lost?" Moose pressed his growing hardon against his cousin's ass, the wet material rough but not uncomfortable enough to slow this down "give up?"

"Oh... damn... damn..." Mort gulped when he saw Doughboy bring his camera up and take a picture.

"Give up?" Moose thrust his hips forward.

"Okay! okay you win..." Mort remembered the first time those words burned from his lips, and what that meant for the rest of that night, and his first time in front of these cameras "you... win..."

"Okay if you admit defeat..." Moose felt his dick flip upwards until it was pointing straight up, pressed between them, excited about the new prospects "then drop the shorts. All the way... Morrie" Moose said louder, knowing a head or two would turn.

"But... no..." Mort moaned, more turned on than he wanted to admit. Or show.

"You lost the bet" Moose rubbed his crotch up and down Mort's moist back "now we have fun. Now we make up for all the years we never..." Moose's voice cracked "we never did."

"But Mark..." Mort turned his head backwards "you ain't sayin you..."

"Drop the shorts. Now!" and that got the attention of the closest cameraman. Just as he was wheeling it around, Mort reached down and tugged his shorts past his crotch, his hard cock flipping up. He crouched down as he pulled them free of his feet, straigtening up just as the cameraman zoomed in, getting a close-up of Doughboy's camera taking a pic of his hard free cock, Moose's hand reaching between Mort's thighs and grabbing his nuts from behind.

"Okay you win. No more" Mort moaned, knowing if this continued his horniness regarding his cousin would be grossly obvious to everyone.

"Fun's just beginning... Morrie" Moose steered him away from Doug and Doughboy, and towards Kroos now taking Bernan's long majestic dick up his stretched hole for the umpteenth time.

"Sorry boys, we're playing through" Moose directed Mort forward until his hard cock was knocking against Bernan's crack. That got his attention.

"What the hell!??!" Bernan spun around, his dick popping free.

"Save that for later" Moose smiled "coach" he added with a wink "but we got a dangerous case of fuck-itis here, and if my-- my brother here doesn't get this in some place wet and warm " reaching around and grabbing a hold of Mort's cock. Finally! Finally his hand on that cock, the cock he fantasized about as far back as some of his first attempts at masturbation, his fingers stroking it almost reverently "this thing is gonna explode!"

"But... no..." Mort protested, but by that point it was all acting for the camera. There was nothing he wanted more than dropping a load right now, with Moose's hand on it preferably.

"Don't worry..." Moose's fingers found the head, and then homed in on Kroos' hole like a heat-seeking missile "it's all good..." directed his cousin's cockhead to the well-stretched asshole, greasy and dripping with a messy combination of green goo and several loads of guy's cum. When the head made contact with the hole, Mort went into auto-pilot! But Moose's hand stayed on the his balls, not that Mort would his mind. Fat chance of that, once he felt his cock slide further into the warm slippery chute. Before he knew it he was deep into Kroos, giving him a hard fucking.

"See? I knew you would figure it out!" Moose chucked. But his chuckle turned to a surprised grunt when Mort's hand found his own cock. Moose tried to pull away, looking first at Arn then at the two previous fuckers with something like alarm. But no one seemed too distracted Mort was hanging onto Moose's cock like an seatbelt.

"Okay your turn!" Mort knew he was too close and pulled back, his cock at full hard, now a good seven plus inches of thick signature Muscowski meat.

"What?" Moose tried to pull away and almost lost his balance when Mort yanked Moose's hips towards him, or rather yanked Moose's cock, threatening to rip if off by the roots. Moose yelped and tumbled sideways. The next thing he knew, his cockhead was pushing into something warm and wet.

"Do it!" Mort grunted "take turns. Fuck that hole I just did!"

Moose tried to pull out before his cockhead passed the ring, but his cousin had other ideas. He slipped behind Moose and started rubbing against Moose's crack with his own greased cock. Of course Moose pushed forward, not sure if Mort knew it might happen. And bang! he was half-way inside of Kroos, who let out a yell, the big log stretching him again with the next invasion. Kroos gave out a second, louder grunt when Mort grabbed both of Moose's asscheeks and thrust them forward, impaling Moose deeper into Kroos.

"Yeah..." Mort said "big stud fuckin the same hole as me! Fuck the big ape!"

Moose looked around, trying not to make eye contact with the cameras. When one of them came in real close, he pulled back fast.

"Your turn" and roughhoused Mort back into place. To make sure he knew Moose felt that earlier motion, Moose's shiny cock pressed against Mort's hairy crack. But Mort needed little encouragement and started deep thrusting his cock again and again into Kroos' stretched hole, rocking him again and again up towards where Bernan had replaced Arn, his slimy cock slow-dancing with Kroos' tonsils. Mort eased back as Kroos started gagging, hoping Bernan would catch his intention. He eased back as well, letting Kroos recover enough shift his weight on the bench.

"Y'know... Mort..." Moose bent over his back, his lips against his ear "I felt your hard pole at my ass before..." Moose's tongue licking his cousin's ear, feeling him shudder the same way Moose did when it was Ern's tongue on his ear "doing this!" Moose gave his cock a directed push against Mort's hole, enough to get his attention "so we're gonna switch again..." running his hands all over Mort's chest and nipples finding the right spots "and when we do... I want you..." Moose's cockhead spreading Mort's ring slightly "IN me..." and pulled away, knowing the shock, or the idea, would get his attention. Mort slid his cock free of Kroos' ass as fast as seemed proper.

Moose's dick was buried in Kroos' ass as fast as seemed proper, feeling Mort's heavy hot torso bending over him.

"You were not serious about..." Mort rubbed his crotch up and down Moose's now lubed crack, tingling and itchy with the transferred green lube "c'mon Mark... you can't...?" but Moose reached behind himself, found that amazing stud cock and aimed the head right at his hole. When he started leaning back into it, he almost came free of Kroos.

"Mark... no..." but Moose leaned forward, hoping Mort would follow. It did not take more than a few thrusts back and forth before that cockhead was back at Moose's hole. This time when Moose leaned back, Mort leaned forward. As the camera came around, everyone could see Moose was pinned between the two stocky hairy bodies, his face grimacing in a way that could only mean one thing.

Mort felt himself enter that hole, enter his own cousin's ass, and before he could stop himself, his head broke through the ring and he was inside. He was inside Mark! All the years he fantasized about this very thing, here he was doing it! And doing it with the whole damn county watching. He did not know which was more outrageous. But there was no way he would allow himself actually to fuck him, to force the full length of his thick cock all the way in the kid's ass. That would be too... too what? The thought made his cock throb and swell, threatening to push him closer to the edge. So when he felt Moose lean back, freeing himself from Kroos, Mort pulled out, thanking him for the break.

But as soon as he was free, Moose directed him to switch again, and again his cock was buried in Kroos' ass, this time slamming all the way in until his felt his tightening balls slapping against Kroos' flesh. And as he did, he felt Mark's cock pressing into him, finding his asshole. No way Moose thought he could -- and then Mort felt the slimy head press harder, and Mort knew his cousin wanted in. Moose wanted to fuck him and there was no way he could stop him. All he could do was lean into it, relaxing his sphincter and then Moose's fat head was breaking through the barrier. Damn! It felt like he was shoving a baseball bat into him! Was he that big? Was Mort himself that big? Then it gave a hard push and Mort felt his cousin inside him, easing in the next few inches like it belonged there. And Mort felt his own cock losing the battle inside Kroos' sore stretched hole.

"I'm... I'm cum...." Mort started moaning and as soon as he did felt himself pulled by his hips back and free of Kroos tight tube. He was on the verge of losing it when he felt Moose squeeze himself between the two, his hand directing Mort's cock back into his own hole, and when Mort felt himself sliding further and further, deeper into Moose's ass he unloaded like the end of the world!

"I'm cumming I'm cumming in his ass" Moose shouted, pulling his cock out of Kroos as fast as he had just slammed it in. He grabbed his cock and started jacking it, the next shot hitting Kroos' ass, the rest splattering up his back. Moose tried to wiggle away but could feel Mort's hot cum filling him up, spurt after spurt draining into him.

"Fuck!" Moose squirmed and twisted "y'creamed in me!"

"Fuckin hottest!" Mort collapsed onto Moose's back, kissing his neck with exploding passion. Only when Moose turned his head and their two mouths found each other did Mort realize what he had just done "oh shit I'm sorry I'm sorry" pulling out fast and trying to turn away.

"Fuck..." Moose grabbed him before he escaped entirely "when you lose a bet, you LOSE a bet!" Moose held him, slamming his lips against Mort's dodging cheek regardless "you have no idea..."

And then Moose was running for the showers, not keeping up with Mort who made it through the doorway in all of three strides. He stood there, looking down at his cum-smeared crotch, then jumped as the water hit him, Mort pulling him into the stream as it warmed up. Moose saw the expression on his cousin's face, and shook him by the shoulders, letting him know he was fine with it. Hell more than fine, this was a major dream come true! As soon as the thought formed in his thick jock skull Moose turned, trying to find that face in the audience again. Trying to make eye contact, he made his way past the closest spotlight and only then was able to pick faces from the silhouettes, and there was Big Hank. But Big Hank was not smiling.

Instead he was hunched over, looking like he just took a left hook to the gut and was going doubled over in pain. Moose would have sprung over there had there not been the mixing board and at least six guys in his way.

So Moose was almost too distracted to notice when his major stud cousin abandoned him in the shower room and disappeared around the back of the stage. Moose thought he might do the same, his performance -- and his entire life -- probably finished. He turned off the water, and turned his head, trying to find Soulman's face, or Ern's for that matter, again back there behind all the equipment. This time he caught Ern's eye after a few moments, smiling at Ern's discomfort with his two neighbors. When Ern saw that Moose was trying communicate something, he gave a small nod. Moose nodded back and pointed to where he was heading. Ern gave him a quizzical look then nodded back.

Rob was leaning back in his chair, both hands behind his neck for support watching the big dude from the Y take guy after guy up the chute. He had never believed such things really happened in real life, and was happy his sex life consisted of little more than the occasional drunken bar-fly and the endless parade of big-chested bitches that graced the pages of his stacks of mags. So when more and more guys started showing up at the Y this afternoon, guys he had never seen before, guys who looked like they would be happier in some big-city fancy-ass gym than his boring old small town Y, well... his curiosity was piqued. And when that prison goon with his two sidekicks started in on their cheezy home movies version of a training video, he needed a good laugh so why not? He stuck around, hiding his smirks behind his t-shirt, slowly noticing he was the only one who thought this was so much bullshit. And when things started getting a bit more rated PG-13, and then even X-rated, he knew he needed to tear his ass outa there. But it was too weird to be believed, so he stayed. If for no other reason than for some mind-blowing stories for the bar next time. Not that his buds would believe him! But one or two might. And the one or two who did, well he had their number didn't he?

So Rob stayed and watched the big dude get his clothes taken away from him, and then standing there waving his huge club like it was the most normal thing, and looking around the room and no one thought it was funny. Now THAT was funny! Right? And when the room got hotter and closer, and everyone started almost getting into it... funny right? But he was the only one laughing. And after a while even he was not laughing any more. But standing off to a corner, his eyes bugging, watching guys do the most amazing things, finally giving up trying to figure out how to tell the tale in the bar next time, without everyone thinking he had totally lost his mind! How could he, he could barely believe this himself!

So when the offer circulated that a lot of that same group would be gathering at one of his favorite restaurants, his believability factor went into negative numbers. And when he showed up at Mort's, and saw all the guys, and even more guys! he knew this was going to be something he'd be remembering the rest of his life. Even if he couldn't believe it, not a fucking bit of it.

Rob sat there, with some blond ex-jock's hand in his lap, his clean white underwear doing a great job of hiding his goddamn hardon. Because if there was something even more unbelievable than all this crazy sex shit going on, it was the fact that he was getting turned on by it! Rob Svotoc, the straightest meanest son of a bitch in this sorry-ass town, he was sitting here with his dick hard a rock. And some stranger was gropping him and he was not beating the pulp out of him. Talk about unbelievable!

Rob did not want to admit that if it came down to it, the dude might take him. As much as Rob was good in a dirty bar brawl, this dude to his right looked like he could wipe the floor with him and not even break a sweat. And god forbid Rob messed with this dude when he was still in top shape. So he sat there with the blond dude's hand on his goods and kept his mouth shut. Or as shut as he could with his jaw hanging open, watching that dude on stage take guy after guy up his chute! And Rob sitting there watching it with a boner. How fucked up is that!

Rob looked at the guys around him, seeing most of them in the same predicament, especially those idiots who showed up tonight commando. Were they expecting this? Rob stole some super-secret peaks at the dude next to him, seeing his crotch as swollen as the next, the only not showing serious bone was the next guy down, the huge black guy with the softballs stuffed in his shorts. Rob's furtives glances could not discern any unmistakable dick-shaped bulge, but he was not looking right? And when the guy next to him caught him steal a peak at his bone, and not do anything more than shrug, Rob leaned back, not a care in the world. Soon he would wake up from this crazy dream, and swear off chili sliders and coffee ice cream for good.

But all the pinching in the world did not seem to be breaking him free of this impossible dream. The only thing he knew would make him sit up in bed fast was a big fat wet dream, and brother, the way this was heading, that was in the foreseeable future.

He sat and watched smugly when all hell broke loose, those guys in the front row getting into a major fight. But the way they went at each other, and their damn hardons flapping around as they did, well that was one fight Rob never saw on pay-per-view. Not that he would have paid. Or maybe he would have, just to see it once. But the way those two foreign dudes muscled their way around, making anybody who stepped outa line haveta get up there too... anybody who got carried away and let their dick blow a load in spite of themselves, shit that should have made his bone lose some of its starch right? But Rob sat there just getting harder and harder, his jaw almost to the floor.

When he saw those two dudes taking turns at the guy's ass, their fucktubes never losing their hard as they switched places over and over, and the blond dude's hand on his crotch neve letting him forget his boned he was... man there was only one way to wake himself from this bad dream. Rob slid down in his seat until his ass was almost hanging over the end. Damn but the elastic in these new briefs was super tight, but after a few well-tugged slidings back and forth, he managed to ease the back of the waistband almost down his ass. When he slide all the way back, the waistband as low as his black pubes, he hoped the dumb jock was not as dumb as he looked. And when the guy hooked his little finger under the elastic, Rob knew his prayers were answered. He saw the guy give him a look out of the corner of his eye.

Rob responded by reaching down and tugging his side of the briefs down as well, hoping the guy could take a hint. And then it happened! Rob closed his eyes as he felt the guy's hand reach inside his briefs and encircle his hard cut dick, the first -- and last! -- time he ever felt another guy's bare hand on his bare flesh. And still he didn't wake up!

Rob responded by putting both hands behind his head and leaning back, feeling the dude pull the front of his whities down, even tucking them beneath his sweaty hairy nads. And then that hand went to town on his dick, jerking it like it was the guy's own, and man but the dude had practice! Rob thrust his hips up into the dude's fist, feeling himself respond to the expert jacking, knowing this wet dream was coming to an end in another minute or two. With his eyes closed, almost imaging his bedroom around him, he felt that hand stroking his cock and then his balls tightened, his head flared and his pissslit erupted with an unbelievable explosion of white-hot jizz. His eyes flew open, his hand already flaying out to turn off his bedside alarm clock, and hitting air! He wasn't in his bed! He was sitting in the darknesss somewhere, with a guy smearing his semen all over his stomach! This wasn't a dream!?!?!

Rob used his briefs to wipe the cum from his crotch and belly and tossed them to the floor with disgust. He reached under his seat and started getting into his pants, almost glaring at the group to say a word. At one point his motions attracted the briefest attention of Mister Johnson/Jones, but he was too busy at the console doing damage control. When the audience saw him finish dressing and get up to leave they knew all the rules had changed. And when one of the guys from the stage left the shower area and came around the side of the room to join them they knew the rules were more than changed, they were torn to shreds.

John Bigfoot stood in front of the first row, his chin on his fist looking at the guys one by one. He almost ignored those that were more concerned with his wet nakedness than why he was observing them back and forth, like this was role call and he was establishing which one was missing the dress braids. After a few moments he started pointing,

"You... and you... and you!" singling out several for inspection "change seats."

"What?" from those guys as well as some who were having their view of the increasing action on stage "why? Who are you?"

"Explain later" he gave a slight smile to those who were trying to hide their problems "and don't worry about your happy dicks" looking at the first row "compared to what they -- what we were doing up there you're off easy" rubbing his hand down his front, either drying himself or drawing even more attention to his still-red dick and balls "okay move yer butts gentlemen" seeing a few anxious faces "and don't worry about our two hosts. They have more pressing concerns right now."

Gil was happy to be hiding at the end of the back row, his friend Chuck somewhere backstage after the scene of the him and the big mexican trading shorts under the showers, more for the benefit of the live feed than the audience considering how that camera was always in the way. But as long as no one bothered him he did not mind having to drop his paw in the lap of the older guy to his left. The guy's hardon came and went, depending on what new activity was taking place with the guys in that locker room stage, much to Gil's disinterest. So when this naked dude appeared out of nowhere and started playing musical chairs with the group, Gil slunk down in his chair not to be noticed. And of course he was the first one directed to move, sent to the first row switching seats with the middle of those three idiots not wearing any underwear, their bones standing and begging for attention. The guy whose seat he took was sent to the back row, taking Gil's still warm chair. At the same time John broke up the chummy two-some of Mannie and Jorge, sending the former to the end seat beside the lone commando, as far from Jorge as possible like he a bad boy in detention. When John's eyes settled on Baby Huey, the poor kid wanted to crawl under the seat.

"Please don't make me--"

"Relax... hunk..." John smiled "you can shift... no, got a better idea" noting how fast Jimmy's hand came flying off Willis' crotch to his left "you stay put young dude... but you two bruisers -- yeah you two -- shift down to the end."

Willis and Soulman looked at each other, knowing something was up. So they had a choice: either draw attention to this new problem, involving the two Misters in this unnecessary shuffling, or else go along with it and keep their anonymity intact. Willis the first one out of his chair, bumping Soulman sideways with a "more yer butt!" and that was it.

"Very good gentlemen..." John looked at the new seating arrangements, noting the two open seats "you don't mind if I join your fine group... but first" he went to Jorge at the end of the first row and whispered some comments. Jorge's eyes opened wide, then he started blushed, then gave the smallest nod. Next John went to Ern at the other end of front row, whispering brief comments to him as well. Ern shrugged and nodded, his eyes never leaving Moose on stage, trying to figure out what he was up to with his cousin Mort. Knowing Moose, somebody was going down regardless of what twisted scenarios his over-active brain was concocting.

Bigfoot John settled his bare moist ass onto Willis' vacated chair, his sweaty palm finding Willis' log encased in his white cotton shorts. No sooner had his hand made contact with the warm package than he leaned sideways,

"I know what you're pullin here" in his best menacing earthquake-triggering bass voice.

"If you do..." John kept his eyes straight ahead "Willis... no don't deny it..." whispering out of the corner of his mouth, catching Big Hank leaning forward trying to lipread "if you know why I am here, and I know why you are here, then you know why the good doctor Kroos agreed to subject himself to such indignities" nodding towards the stage "and you know where this will lead and who will be affected by what is happening here, not just tonight, but the whole chain of events that led you to be here as well. Because Mister Willis Elroy Jenkins, born William James Elroy" waiting for and receiving the acknowledging tensing of Willis' hard thigh muscles "you know how important your upcoming review on Monday September eighth at nine o seven a.m. will be, and why your promotion may be delayed if they--"

"You threatenin me..." Willis' voice sent a rumbling through several chairs.

"Just the opposite... sir" John closed his eyes, letting his left hand outline the base of his shaft "I am simply putting all available information at your disposal... sir. If you know who I am, then you know why I am here" his index finger found the opening to the fly "and when this finger makes contact with your penis you will not make a protest" and true to his word, the finger wormed ins way into the opening, sliding into place where the pubes joined with the top of his right testicle "and when you reach down and pull your penis free of the fly" waiting for and receiving the expected swear word from Willis "you will let me know in no uncertain terms we are both on the same page, we have an understanding. I will not interfere with your agenda tonight. And you will not interfere with mine, understood?"

"You're gonna like prison..." Willis glared at him, but his right hand knocked John's free and started struggling with the fly "and they gonna love you" and raising his hips, managed to pull his semi-hard free of the fly, the fat circumsized head, wet and shiny with a night's worth of pre-cum. Except for the ragged scar below the crown, it was a perfect serious piece of meat. Even when he grabbed it around the base, there was still room for John's fist, and a few inches to spare. The two of them kept their fists on Willis' meat, Willis trying to prevent the inevitable, John knowing it was a matter of time, his fingers making it look -- and feel -- like child's play.

And John's hand could make Willis' dick believe it was the tiny hand of his ten-year old niece, and not that of a grown man. And man did it start plumping big time!

Jimmy sat there, trying not to watch or over-hear the whispered comments going on next to him, but he knew something bad was going down between those two. All he knew was he was in the clear now; he did not have to touch that big black dude where he did NOT want to be touched. Not that the Jimmy was afraid of a fight with him. He just did not want to show up Monday with two black eyes and maybe a broken rib. Not the best way to start training camp, not by a long shot. So when this naked dude parted the waters between them, Jimmy felt all the tension drain from him, and that dude to his right even patted him on the back. So when his hand found its way back into Jimmy's lap still damp from his previous accident Jimmy shrugged, the crisis past. That was until the naked guy leaned over to him next,

"Those shorts must be real uncomfortable... Jimmy" John's low voice cut through the mutterings and rustlings coming from the rest of the group, settling down in their new places.

"How you...?"

"You're between friends now" John looked down at the wet stains in Jimmy's lap "so lose the shorts bud."

"But... please..." Jimmy turned red, squirming big time "you know I can't!"

"It's cool..." John patted Jimmy's thigh "just tell the dude next to you you want to switch shorts--"

"Are you nuts?!?!" Jimmy whispered back, his voice cracking with panic "he'll think--"

"Do it and it will make sense" John kept the reassuring hand on his thigh "you will never be embarrassed about your equipment again. Promise."

"But..." Jimmy looked to see who was watching their exchange. The only guys in the front row who were turning around had their eyes on what Willis was exposing, not Baby Huey "but.. it's gross..."

"From tonight forward, you will never be ashamed again" John rubbed his hand along Jimmy's thigh "the spell's broken Jim."

Jimmy sat there, knowing the guy was out to humiliate him in front of the whole group. He tried to catch his teammate's gaze in front of him, but Sal was too busy juggling the two adults on either side of him, while trying to watch the Kroos-Gets-Fucked Show at the same time. In other words, Jimmy was not on Sal's radar at all. There was only one way to let this crazy naked dude know he was trippin. And that was lean over to the guy next to him, the guy with the big red moustache and the even bigger red beer belly and do what John suggested, knowing the dude would either laugh or tell him to beat it. And hopefully that would keep John from ever suggesting anything again.

"Dude..." Jimmy leaned to his right "y'wanna... I mean... could you -- I mean we..."

"What kid?"

"Forget it! It was a stupid idea!"

"What?"

"Forget I said anything!"

"Spit it out kid" the guy's breath still smelled of the beers he was pounding earlier, so Jimmy guessed he was too drunk to even hear him.

"Can we..." Jimmy closed his eyes, bracing for the blow "can we... switch shorts?" expecting the dude to say something like, saywha? Instead Jimmy heard,

"All RIGHT!"

Jimmy was too shocked to ask the guy to say that again. But when he glanced sideways and the dude was already tugging his boxers down his ample pale hips, Jimmy knew this was too impossible to be real. The big guy lifted his full ass off the small squeaky chair, tugging his underwear down his legs and over his shoes. When he handed them to him, Jimmy almost choked.

"Deal! Here ya go" the guy put them in Jimmy's lap, sitting there naked from the waist down. Jimmy glanced over to the next guy down, the strong dude in the baseball cap who looked like he took a wrong turn on his way to the football game, but his eyes were glued on the stage, his hand lifting off the moustached guy with a minimum of bother. Only then did Jimmy let his eyes take in what Big Red was exposing.

Jimmy looked down at the guy's crotch and almost swore out loud. Jimmy saw himself as a freak, a micro-dicked underdeveloped baby, with the body of a overweight football player. He lived in terror of one of the cheerleaders flirting with him, because what if he went out a date with one of them, and somehow their pretty manicured hand found its way to his crotch, only to find... nothing! He knew they would make it the main topic of vicious gossip for the rest of his life! No way that was going to happen. It was bad enough the jokes in the locker room, but most of the guys on the team were getting cool about it, knowing how much it bothered him. The "Baby Huey" nickname was because of his size, not his dick, everyone assumed. Right? But until that moment, Jimmy had never seen another guy with the same problem -- with the same equipment issue as himself. But sitting there next to him, naked and hard and showing four and a half inches of hard identical meat was this red moustached guy. Jimmy almost forgot to breathe.

"Guess we're in the same boat, huh?" Big Red nodded down at himself "makes for some interesting times... right?"

"W-w-what?" Jimmy choked out.

"It's cool kid" Big Red chuckled "some chicks really dig it."

"What? Dig what?"

"Small-dicked guys" Big Red sucked in his belly so Jimmy got a better look "easier to suck, right?"

"F-f-fuck..." Jimmy sat there, trying to focus on the excitment on stage, his eyes bleary with tears. Being embarrassed was one thing; this was an entirely different situation. Like getting suited up for a big homecoming game and running out to the field, only to realize everyone else is playing soccer! Major twilight zone time!

He almost didn't hear Big Red say,

"Dude... your shorts now..."

Jimmy looked at him, trying to find the sneer or smirk, but the dude's eyes were glued to Jimmy's crotch like it was his birthday present or something. When Jimmy saw the guy's dick give a jump as his own hand drifted to his waistband, he knew he could do this. Jimmy lifted his big butt off the chair, slowly tugging his wet sticky shorts down, and then there it was. His stubby little helmet nestling in his pubic hair, a red button poking out from nervous tightened scrotum, bits of drying cum knotted and white in his pubes. He heard Big Red whisper "awesome! we're like brothers!" and then he pushed them down and over his stockinged feet, and just like that handed them to his older twin. What he did next almost caused Jimmy to swallow his tongue!

Big Red took Jimmy's wet shorts and held them to his face, taking a deep breath. Jimmy's eyes shot to the guy's crotch, and saw his dick swell up and then burp out a glob of clear goo. This dude even leaked like he did, Jimmy told himself. This just gets weirder and weirder.

Big Red rested Jimmy's shorts on his large belly dusted with light red hairs, then his left hand was back in Jimmy's crotch, and beneath the white cotton fig-leaf of his former boxers, finding Jimmy's matching dick. Grabbing that sticky crown was just like grabbing his own dick, or rather what his dick felt like when he discovered the joys of jacking umpteen years ago. And having that do-over for him was the hottest -- well second hottest -- thing he could imagine right now. Now if he could get that nice fat dick to fill out... and then he felt it. Jimmy's dick started hardening and pushing out like magic.

Jimmy felt the dude's hand burrow beneath the protective covering of that wadded up piece of cloth in his lap, knowing the dude would touch his poor excuse for a dick, then politely withdraw in disappointment. But when those fingers touched the head, finding only those spots Jimmy knew about, pressing them in just the right way, Jimmy's dick sprang up like he never even blew his load not twenty minutes before. He was too embarrassed -- shit he was through with being embarrassed -- he was too relieved feeling his dick filling and hardening that he wanted to thank that crazy naked dude next to him, but when he looked at that guy's lap, watching his cock give a flip and start to lengthen by itself, he looked him right in the face,

"Dude..." Jimmy saw the guy his full attention directed to what was happening in Jimmy's lap. Not the show, not the black club his hand was grasping, no his eyes were glued to Jimmy's filling cock "what...?"

"You got your friend cranked up sniffin yer jizz, you got me boning just watchin you throw wood, you are a stud, get it?"

"But..." Jimmy let his hand drift to that naked crotch on his left, his hand grabbing the lengthening dick as it started to lift up from his moist balls. He almost expected the contact would make him lose his hard fast, but instead it gave a few more lurches and it was pressing back against Jimmy's grip "... man..."

"Man is right" John's right hand went from Jimmy's thigh down and cupped his tight scrotum "man's balls I got here. And these balls are gonna make some more cum for us right? You think getting his face on your shorts got your buddy hot? Wait til he pulls a load from you dick! Like his birthday and christmas rolled into one!"

"You crazy you know that?" Jimmy whispered back, a smile forming on his face. But John just shrugged and smiled back. Then he turned his attention to the main reason he choreographed this musical chairs interlude. Willis' cock needed some major attention.

Jorge sat in his chair, or rather was leaning down so far, his hips were almost all the way off the metal seat, his hard slab of cut meat enjoying the attention of the nondescript dude next to him. If Jorge had to pick someone to be playin with his tool, this dude would be on the bottom of the list. Not that he was ugly or shit, he was just... nobody. Even his dick from what Jorge could tell was nothing to cross the street for. So Jorge did not mind half-sitting, half-lying there while the dude ran his hands all over his crotch, a minor distraction to what was going on up there under the lights. Cause if there was one thing that would get him to lose his nut, it was watching big fuckin hairy stud doc Kroos made the pussy for like half the town! Man, too sweet to beat! So he was happy to sit there, this dude keeping his dick happy, but not too happy, and just groove on this show for days when that naked guy with the major fuckstick joined the group, giving directions like he was Mister Johnson? Jones? long-lost brother or shit. And yeah having his hand on his homey's meat next to him was cool n'all, better than some other dudes he could think of, and then mister naked pinga whispers shit to him to make him almost swallow him gum like. Jorge swore he didn't hear what the dude whispered, but there was not other way around it. So when Jorge straightened up in his chair, even angling it backwards with a nasty-ass squeak, letting his left hand swing behind him and find that bare knee, dude like the Soulman's knee! he expected a swat and a tidal wave of attitude like in no time! Dude it was the Soulman! And if there was one name at the top of that list for Jorge to get his mitts on, it was this stud!

Big Hank sat there, more worried about the wearabouts of Billy than anything else. Keeping Willis under wraps was a huge part of it, but seeing the continuing breakdown of the order on stage was cause for alarm as well. So he had little problem keeping his dick from responding to Willis' occasional graze to his front, a minor inconvenience if that. But in spite of everything this was making him hornier and hornier, and up to the point that Jorge guy in the front row reached behind and copped a feel of his leg he did not have to deal with his blue balls. But once the kid's hand strayed from his knee, then to his bare thigh, then to his balls! Hank knew his dick would respond. And when Willis felt that tube start to fill and throb beneath his wrist he yanked it away, which only made it easier for Jorge's fingers to reach through the leg opening and pull everything out for air. Hank did not realize how long Jorge's arm was, but somehow it made it all the way to his freed balls and then to his rapidly responding cock. For a few moments Hank's hands wrestled with Jorge's for control of his cock, but after the third time he batted them away, Hank's right hand came to rest on the crease where his thigh was pressed against Willis'. So what could Hank do but move his hand to Willis' balls, expecting a certain amount of hostility. But something that naked stage dude whispered to him was keeping him as quiet as a whipped puppy. He even relinquished his hold on his own meat, allowing that guy free rein of his now hard meat. So what could Hank do but reach through the fly and pull Willis' serious balls out for some freedom. And whatever his delicate touches were doing to those churning balls was making Willis less and less pissed. Big Hank sat there, letting Jorge's hand go to town on his dick, even bringing up some nice slick pre-cum, and once Jorge's hand got some of that action, Big Hank's dick started getting the royal treatment.

So with Hank's hand playing with those huge black balls, occasionally trading places on that serious bone with the naked dude, he almost had to do a double-take when it looked like Willis' right hand started straying to that naked crotch to his right. Which seemed to start some kind of chain-reaction.

Baby Huey's cock was harder than it ever was, the red moustached guy working it like it was a blue ribbon winner at the state fair. So of course Jimmy had to return the favor, his right hand finding itself twisting around in all that pubic hair, thick and long, then down to the guy's cock, as hard and fat as his own. But Jimmy's hand on that stranger's cock felt weirdly familiar somehow, like he knew every inch of it before he even touched it. It was almost creepy how it was his own cock, only bigger. Like what his own cock might grow into some day, if he... if he what? He had no idea if this was what his cock would become, but right now playing with it, and jacking it in the same familiar way was like trading in for the upgrade. And man was it burping the goo! And man Jimmy knew just where to spread it, what areas really responded to that slick three-fingered lubing. When he heard the dude groan and slam his hand down on Jimmy's wrist, he knew he could drive this car right around the bend.

Big Red's grip on Jimmy's wrist relaxed as he inched away from blowing his load right then and there, the kid knowing exactly how far to take it, and how to grip it to make it come back from the brink. It was like the kid was a mind reader or something, so Big Red relaxed and let the kid take it from there. But the scent of the kid's sweet teen cum drifting up from belly was enough to make him empty his nut by itself. So his right hand drifted to the stocky jock dude on his right, almost to distract himself from what the kid was doing to his dick. At first the guy pushed his hand away with a soft "thanks no thanks" but after the second time, Big Red's hand found what was lumping in the guy's shorts. And when he found it was another short-horn, Big Red almost chuckled.

"Lemme help ya" Big Red whispered to Jerry "I know the ropes okay?" displaying his own six-inch blunt. Jerry's nervousness gave way to something like resignation when Big Red's hand found the fly to Jerry's tools, and just like that pulled that rock-hard dick free. And when he reached through the opening, tugging the balls loose as well, his wrist was rewarded with a major ooze of pre-cum from that nice tapered head. So the dude likes his balls played with huh? Can do!

Big Red's knuckles started a deep steady massage of the underside of Jerry's scrotum, and in no time Jerry's hand grabbed Big Red's wrist and pushed it away with a loud,

"Don't I'm real close!"

"Not to worry bud" Big Red's knuckles started a soft grazing of just the hairs "you keep burpin and I'll keep these baby-makers happy, deal?"

"Fuuuuucck..." Jerry let go of the death grip on the dude's wrist, knowing his second orgasm of the day was moments away. These hands-free orgasms were becoming a serious pattern. But he was getting more action in one day than the last two weeks! And Jerry was not complaining. And knowing Arn was up there on stage, tightening the noose around his neck minute by minute, only made his dick happier and happier.

Jerry was having such a great time he even wanted to involve the guy on his right, the one who had been happy just rubbing his thigh up to that point. And when Jerry's hand made contact with the guy's open fly, he was very confused. For someone who was showing little interest in all this guy-on-guy shit, his meat was sure singing another tune! Jerry had never touched an uncut piece before, and found the skin almost interesting. And when he got the hang of skinning it back and forth, the plump plum of a dickhead popping in an out, Jerry thought he might be able to bring this dude some relief. The thought of mister I'm-married-and-straight playing with some dude's uncut dick and even making it shoot off in his hand was so out-there Jerry had to bite his lip. But his hand kept up and slow rhythm on the guy's cock, not sure what would happen, but he intended to find out. But his eyes were on Arn shoving his crotch into the big Kroos dude's face, a blow job all but unavoidable from Jerry's angle.

And so it continued: Jerry's friend shifting his grip from his sore left hand to his right, getting a fistful of that commando guy's bare hard dick. Now here was a guy he could jack with, and not worry about ducking the sucker punch, unlike the dude on his left. So the two of them held onto each other's hard upright bones, all but licking their lips, trying to figure out whose mouth was going to end up in whose lap first. Without catching shit for it. Almost as a distraction, the commando dude threw his right hand down in the lap to his right, the hispanic highschool kid, with the nice round belly and the nice brown cock. The moan he got in response let him know the kid had not been trading blowjobs with his highschool friend in the front row before. So being exiled to the back row was proving to be a bonus for the kid. All boned and no where to go. Commando Dude was about to drop his mouth onto that hard dick, just to see if the kid would let him, like there was a guy out there under twenty who would ever turn down a blowjob? when he felt another hand wrestling for control of the hard brown meat. It belonged to the freckle-face kid in the first row, the one who had to sit at the end of the row with his tidy whities all tented and no one to give him a helping hand. If Commando Dude could have reached as far at the kid, his mouth would be in that firebush next.

Ern half-turned into the group, watching Moose pinning his cousin against the wall, almost glad to have a distraction before he joined Baby Huey in the Cummed Shorts Club. He had kept his wrist grazing the full pouch of the black-haired guy on his left all through this show; several times the guy returned the favor with a menacing growl if Ern's contact became a bit too friendly, especially when Ern could tell the dude was starting to respond to all of this shit. But sitting there with no one touching his goods was just the way Ern wanted it. Watching Moose run around naked up there was bad enough, but once he and his cousin started getting into it, shit Ern almost blew his load just sitting there! He knew he'd never get a chance to perv on his Moose getting it on with his super-hero Big Hank, so this was the next best thing! By maybe by a half-point if that! If someone had asked him to stage the hottest jack-off show he could imagine, Ern could not have come up with anything hotter than what he was witnessing right now. And then the big-shouldered super-gruff dude next to him just out of the blue drops his hand in Ern's lap and Ern almost flew out of his chair. Talk about never in a million years did he see that one coming. And when the dude grabbed Ern's cock through the thin material, and just held it, Ern started feeling his balls churning, fearing the big killer was going to get his hand wet fast. And boy would a handful of cum not make this big dude happy.

Ern's partner sat there, one hand on each of the redheads on either side. Up to this point he was content to keep an eye on the Chief up there on stage, keeping the forces in reserve as it were, and making sure his boss did not get in trouble. But watching the continuing evolution of this show, the Chief up there with his camera, close enough to get all the incriminating evidence he could ever need, and close enough to get his naked butt in a whole heap of trouble if this whole shit went south, Albert knew he needed to speed this along before the Chief really did something he would regret. And sitting here with his giant paws on other guy's dicks, yeah even having them grope his own pussy splitter at the same time, hell as long as he got double-time pay for this, who the fuck cares! What Albert did not count on was how much his dick might enjoy all the attention. The last time somebody's hand other than his own was on his dick he was ten and the kid wore that shiner for weeks. So Albert had no preparation for how good this might feel. Not at all.

Albert's victim to his left had the pleasure of having a major bone the whole evening and suffering no more contact than an occasional fingernail to the edge of the fly. Because if there was one thing that got Albert hard it was making some dumbfuck suffer for his stupidity. A few times he got written up for "rough stuff" as they put it, but seeing someone squirm under his boot, man he could make a career of it. And he had. So having this dude next to him all but begging him for some physical contact, and getting nothing more than a painful fingernail for his troubles, yeah Albert was gonna enjoy spending tonight's cut.

So when somehow the tide shifted and mister Horny Red got to return the favor to the black-haired sadist on his right, boy did that make his perpetual bone do a back-flip. And yeah his index finger found itself worming inside the dude's plaid boxers, and it didn't take more than a puff of wind for the big red hed to come out and say hello. The guy had "basher" written all over him, but after the second time he stuffed his curved friend back inside those boxers, and John managed to free it again, he knew this dude was horny in spite of himself. And when John's hairy commando seatmate to his left started giving his wimpering dick some much-needed stroking, John knew the gamble might pay off after all.

The hairy commando dude next to John suspected their little group was in deep shit when the naked guy from stage decided to split them up, sending his jack-off buddy from the Y to the back row, like a bad boy caught doing something nasty. Like showing up commando with a big boner. And then when the poor hispanic dude replaced his bud next to him, it was only a matter of time before his hand was going to bring another load from that guy, if he was so easy to pump a load from, right? But the hispanic guy's paw went from the third commando dude to his own lap, then back and forth like the guy could not make up his mind which boner was easier to grip. Was he ambidextrous or something?

Gil thought if he could keep these two semi-naked dudes on either side of him happy, they would leave his dick alone. After he shot his load thanks to his former friend Chuck, and had to go up on stage and show the whole damn world how easy it was to anyone to make him sperm and how soft he got even while his dick was still dripping, man... no more of this shit. Even on good nights of major hooter porno, one load was the most he could manage.

Two? No way! So when commando dudes started making a grab for his meat he almost said, good fuckin luck! He never bargained for sitting there between two dudes, taking turns grabbing each other's bare meat, and his dick would even like it! So he was more than happy to yank at one guy, then the other, anything to keep them guessing.

Commando guy number one, the leader of this little bare-ass club made sure he was sitting on the left of the group, knowing his right hand could keep its grip on some dude's meat for hours, knowing how to keep his dick hard and leaking, but not cumming until he made it happen. So when that ringleader, Mister Jones? told them to reach out and touch someone, his right hand was in his j/o buddy's lap in a split second. Was that why the bastard told him they all hadda use their left hand? Because of his over-eagerness? So when his left hand landed in the lap of the kid to his left, he prayed the kid was old enough to know the score. At first those briefs displaced little or no response, like the kid was holding his breath or something, but then John's technique was not up to par on that side. He almost suggested they switch and he could make the kid produce several loads for his effort, but then one of his teammates? the guy that kept appearing and disappearing onstage, the first one to buttfuck the big dude, started fishing that buttplug out of that hole with his mouth, man the kid almost broke John's wrist he boned so fast. So John was more than happy to keep the kid happy. Happy enough that when somehow everyone started driving on the left the kid was more than happy to show his gratitude.

Sal's wrist was so sore trying to find a good angle with the nondescript dude on his left the whole evening, that at the first opportunity his right hand found a better home in the lap of the boner commando dude on his other side, the guy who sure as fuck knew his way around a dick! Unlike the dude on his left who didn't know a dick from a broomhandle.

Jorge was happy to have his mitts on Soulman's serious meat and didn't mind he had to straddle both this super stud with one hand, and the world's most boring jacker with the other. Not like he was going to bring either of them off, not likely. Having Soulman splooge in his palm was too hot to hope for; mister coffee breath on his right probably didn't even know dicks could cum, the way he had been jabbing at his crotch all night. Sheeeeyet, talk about an amateur! So Jorge did not mind his back was to the stage almost, his gaze kept returning to Soulman's prize of a cock as well as his friend, the "Bo clone" who finally let someone pull his monster nightstick free and give it enough stroking to show it for what it was. A dick to be proud of!

So Jorge thought he was trippin when somebody in the back row started whispering something about "third load third load". Third load of what? Like an idiot he asked Mister Straight-Ass to his right was that meant.

"Third load kid. Guy says anybody who can produce his third load gets... gets what?" he turned backwards, asking John Bigfoot.

"The gentlemen running this evening don't want any of us to... enjoy ourselves. I'm saying not only should you be... filling your shorts" winking at Baby Huey on his right "but doing it as often as you want. Any gentleman would can manage a third orgasm" looking at Willis next "either from yourself or your partner... well how about a week's salary--" he whispered.

"What? How much? Fuck you you're joking!" from all directions at once, until John had to raise both hands and wave them to be quiet.

"Starting... now" and John's hands landed again in both laps, only Willis trying to wiggle away. And that when hands were in laps on their left, on their right, even their own "except your own" leaning over the shoulder of the commando guy in front of Baby Huey's older half "thanks to this gentleman the final rule to are not a selfish self-abuser... both hands in both laps on either side. Now..." but John was cut off as two sets of hands found themselves almost fighting for control of his re-lengthening dick. He returned the favor by spitting into his hands and started smearing his lubed palms up and down Willis' hard, and all over Jimmy's stubby angry knob. And not more than ten seconds later, Jimmy Guenther, Baby Huey to those who didn't know him, was filling John's palm with his second load, yelping and whimpering as his tight balls emptied just like that. The sound was like a trip-switch, because as soon as the rest hear him lose his load, first Ern started flooding his shorts, then the dark-haired guy on the receiving end of Jerry's right fist. Then it was all up for grabs...

With the disappearance of the Moose-and-Family Show, the stage started to look a bit different. Matt looked around, clutching himself through the cotton seeing Doughboy do the same, except he had nothing covering his hairy nads. When the guy saw Matt look at him he looked away quickly. What's up with that? Matt thought. But the show was looking like it had no intention of slowing down soon.

Matt tried to think who this guy might be. Besides his appearance at the Y early in the afternoon, he had never seen him around before. And like the whole fuckin town, or at least the entire fuckin population of guys between eighteen and eighty had been at the Y some time before today, except this dude. Out of town, he guessed. So who was he and why was he so eager to take cheezy pics when there were more cameras on stage than guys it seemed? And why was he acting like his attention kept wandering?

Looking over at Kroos now, as naked as he was during that second exam, Matt almost thought of his brother, bent over and begging for a fucking. He barely noticed mister Big Chest sidle up next to him.

"So it's almost down to us, huh kid?" the guy was the very picture of Nervous, Matt thought.

"No shit" Matt was trying to keep his mind that time he and Kroos went at it back at the docs' office. And watching Kroos' face mashed into the crotch of that one "coach dude" did little to keep the blood from his teencock, remembering when it was Kroos on his own cock.

"You into this shit... I mean..." the guy was not making eye contact. In fact from what Matt could see out of the corner of his eye, the guy was looking at everything but the main action. He was watching the two Misters, the cameramen, the dude at the console even, everything except the sex scenes.

"You really ain't are ya?" Matt whispered "why the fuck you here then?"

"I got... reasons..." came out like a long pained groan " like this afternoon..."

"At the Y?"

"Yeah..."

"You weren't even there, I thought ..." Matt nodded at Kroos doing everything he could to fish out that guy's cock with his mouth Man, Matt thought, Kroos can't keep this up forever.

"I ain't seen anything like that before..." mister Big Nipples whispered "can't believe guys... doin that shit! Maaaaaan..."

"You never did anything before... y'know... with guys?"

"Yeah right..." the guy held out his left hand, still not look Matt in the eyes. His wedding ring did the talking for him.

"Really?" at this point in his life, after all that had happened to him and like everyone, EVERYONE! he knew, Matt thought everyone was in on all this crazy shit.

"Yeah... really..."

"But?" Matt whispered back.

"Some guys do then huh..." mister Nipples was looking at the console, keeping his cool "I mean... you do... don't you?"

"Well yeah" Matt said it like, dude I gotta draw ya a picture?

"Y'ever... y'know do somea this shit?"

"Well yeah... I mean maybe..." Matt could see the eggshells he was standing on now. Another cop? Who was this dude anyway?

"How much?" the guy's words hissed out through clenched teeth. Judging from the tone of his voice, Matt thought the dude was having trouble just forming the words.

"Well some -- "

"No, I mean how much money?"

"What?!?" Matt said out loud, catching Bernan and Arn looking at him. That was enough for Arn to reach down and help Kroos pull his dick free. Once he did a muffled gasp went through the room. Matt looked away fast, "what?"

"How much would it cost?"

"What cost?"

"Y'know..."

"No I don't know. How much would what cost?"

"For you... to... y'know..." and the guy nodded his head over where Kroos was out of breath, the head of Arn's dick rubbing all over his face and lips for effect, waiting for the cameras to roll into place. But Kroos was running out of steam.

"Dude, like they already paid us... y'know t'be here..."

"But let's say..." the guy did turn now, looking Matt in the eyes, then down his front to where the towel was poking out. To make his point he tossed the towel, showing a tube of hard flesh sticking out of the fly of his briefs "you did... more?"

"Like what?"

The guy was fucking blushing! all the way down to his beer belly. Matt looked at him closely now. He wasn't bad looking, just not in the same shape as most of the adults Matt knew from the gym. That's when Matt noticed the guy's legs, and they were in shape. So whatever the dude did, his legs got the exercise his arms and chest didn't. The image of a cop walking the streets came back again.

"Dude you one of the cops?" Matt whispered real soft then caught his huge mistake.

The guy gave Matt such a look "what the fuck you -- "

"So what's your deal?" Matt deflected his goof fast.

"What y'know about cops?"

"Nothin not a fuckin thing" Matt squirmed, not liking where this was going and glad the cameras were far away "just totally freaked this shit keeps goin on... y'know... and like no one blows the whistle y'know?" Matt saw the guy's expression change ever so slightly.

"Yeah I was thinkin the same" but he kept his eye on Matt now, ignoring everything else.

"So what y'were saying before" Matt hoped the crisis was past "about somethin costing?"

"Yeah..." the guy was watching Matt like a hawk "I was asking how much would it cost... cost me...?"

"To do what?"

Again the guy just nodded over at Kroos trying to get Arn's ten incher past his tonsils.

"Y'want me to... suck you off?" Matt whispered the last words and looked at him like he was not only in the wrong scene but the wrong planet or something "but Kroos--"

"Hell no!" the guy interrupted, shocked at the suggestion "I would never make you to-- "

"Make? Then what?"

"I been standing here seeing y'know... a lot of dicks in asses--"

"You wanna... fuck me?" Matt was real panicky now "like here? right here?"

"Damnit!" the guy hissed through those clenched teeth again. When he went silent Matt thought it a good idea to put some distance between himself and this dude. He had not taken two steps before he heard something.

"What?" Matt half-turned.

"I said, 'a couple hundred'..." the guy was glancing at Matt's profile. Or rather, Matt's crotch in profile.

"A hundred... like dollars?" Matt was starting to think this guy was more than half-way to Nut City.

"Yeah like dollars. Shit, okay a thousand."

"What!?!? For what?" but the guy was starting to head towards Bernan. Matt suspected the guy would either keep walking or knew Bernan really was his football coach in real life, and have the coach help him gang up on Matt.

"Wait" Matt was right behind him, but his foot found a slippery patch of floor and he almost lost his balance. Shit, just my luck, Matt thought, break my leg in the middle of a porno movie!

"What if I want a turn..." mister Big Nipples asked Bernan, looking at Kroos "I mean can anybody -- "

"Hey coach" Arn looked down at the the head on his dick "our guest here's all horny now. You think y'could get that mouth off my lob long enough to suck this guy off?"

Kroos was more than happy to give his mouth -- and throat! -- a break from Arn's over-endowment. Damn, he was hoping this afternoon would be enough of dealing with this guy, he thought, rubbing some circulation back into his jaw. Kroos used the hesitation to come off the bench, his knees two hard stiff points of shooting pain, when the guy muttered something. Arn laughed.

"Dude's turnin down a blow job" Arn looked at the room, then at the camera.

Kroos found the nearest bench and collapsed onto it, a big hairy bag of cement plopping down in a sweaty steaming heap. The slimy mess he made on the seat was the least of his concerns. He was too busy rubbing the circulation back into his legs, flexing and unflexing his knees hoping he could walk again.

"But then who wouldn't" Arn continued after a dramatic pause "for a chance at that ass."

Kroos looked down at himself and swore. Damn, is this evening ever going to end? How many times must he be fucked on camera? Twenty? Thirty? A hundred?

He looked at Arn then at Bernan, expecting somebody, anybody to say enough!

But when no one said anything, he dragged himself to his feet, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion and defeat, his legs almost buckling under him,

"Alright where do I -- "

"Well?" Arn looked at the guy. Mister Big Nipples looked almost surprised this was going to happen.

"Well?" Arn repeated himself.

They all stood there, waiting for the guy to say something. It slowly dawned on him he was calling the shots now. He was in fucking charge!

"Fuck..." he grunted to himself "fuck okay..." he looked at Kroos, then around the room. He saw what he was looking for "that table" he said, pointing at a folding table off to the side, behind one of the cameras. It had several boxes on it, as well as some of the camera equipment "yeah that table."

"Okay..." Bernan went over to it and started throwing the items onto the floor. He looked at Matt "c'mere Ma- I mean kid make yerself useful, help me with this."

The two of the them went away from the lights, only to return dragging the table between them. Arn went over to help Bernan drag it into the middle of the room, but not before Matt lost his hardon, his brain running plays. Not sure why he did it but he picked up a towel from the floor and wrapped it around his waist. Maybe the way that guy kept looking at his stuff made him self-conscious? Yeah self-conscious up here on stage, yeah right. He tried to back away and let "the adults" take over but Arn reached over and grabbed at him, the towel flying away.

"Hey!" Matt tried to grab it back.

"Gimme that" Arn muscled it away "we gotta make our buddy here more comfortable right?" looking at Kroos, sitting on the bench looking more than worried. Arn took the towel and folded over the end, motioning for Kroos to come over.

"Okay coach, bend over for your guest" Arn pointed at the towel.

"No.." from Mister Big Nips when he saw Kroos bending over the edge, the towel cushioning his crotch.

"No? What'dya mean no?" Arn looked at him like he was confused.

"K--Coach, I want the coach to -- coach, lie on your back" the guy came over and once he was in range, his hands were all over Kroos' hips and ass, helping him swivel around under he was on his back, his legs hanging over the end. Kroos knew where this was going, so when the guy grabbed his knees, Kroos lifted his legs, his ass sticking over the edge. Perfect angle for a deep fuck. The camera came around to get a close-up of Kroos with his sore knees in the air, his stretched swollen hole exposed and shiny.

Mister Nips turned to find Matt half-way across the room.

"Well?" he looked at Matt "you decide? yes or no?"

Matt picked up another of the dirty wet towels as he came over, but then tossed it away in disgust. Barely covering himself he came up to the guy.

"Okay...?" Matt looked down at the guy's front, his cock still exposed and inches from Kroos' butt.

"We gotta deal?" the guy looked down at Matt's package, a bit surprised by how much the kid had softened.

"For what?"

"First help me get this badboy home" the guy's hand were busy keeping Kroos' legs up, lifting them onto his own shoulders "I ain't got no hands free."

"Is that it?" Matt looked at him and shook his head. Dude, a thousand bucks to hold yer dick?

"For starters" the guy were looking down, both at his front and at Kroos'. In spite of all the torture so far, Kroos' cock was keeping up a steady fullness, but it looked like it had been through hell and back.

Mister Big Nipples almost jumped when he felt that strange hand on his cock. Shit, the kid really did do it, he grabbed his cock! And when he felt Matt start to tug at his briefs, pulling them down past his ass, he assumed Matt understood his role in all this. And when he started to massage the stiffness back into it, the blood rushed into his "badboy" fast.

Matt grabbed the dude's cock, not sure what he was supposed to do. He was showing maybe six inches of uncut cock, but man would Kroos ever not like this one. Matt could barely get his fingers around it, as he felt it harden under his strokings! Matt spat down into his palm and with his wet fingers started skinning it back and forth, feeling it start to plump the rest of the way. And when it did, a fat purple head started poking free of the foreskin. It looked like a shorter fatter version of Kroos, but the head was rapidly filling to the fattest mushroom Matt ever saw. He kept spitting and wetting it, knowing this was going to really pop Kroos' hole to the max.

In less than a minute, the dude was steel hard, the head poking at Kroos' hole. So when the guy leaned forward making contact, Matt's wet hand went down to his tight balls. The guy hissed and with a great lunge forced the fat head past Kroos' ring. Kroos gave out a giant yell and almost bucked off the table, but the guy held onto Kroos' legs like glue as his now seven and-a-half-inch battering ram forced itself deeper into Kroos' hole, stretching it to the breaking poing trying to accomodate the alarming girth.

Matt unglued his hand from where it had wedged itself between them, trying to back away from the other camera closing in.

"Wait!" the guy barked, his breath ragged and heavy "so ya want the money or not?"

"I thought I already -- "

"Get... get behind me..." mister Big and Hard Nipples grunted between shallow thrusts "and do... do it..."

"Do what?"

"Kid you dense or something?"

"You... you mean... like... fuuuck?" Matt tried to get his full atttention to make sure they were talking about the same thing. You want me to fuck you? Like this?

"Y'want the money or not?" but the guy's eyes were tight shut, all focus directed on his cock invading its first asshole. All his life he had tried to get that damn fat sausage inside something warm and wet like this. His first two girlfriends wanted nothing I mean nothing! doing! with it. Even his wife "suffered" to let him do it, and then only with a lot of crying and moaning. What kinda fun is that? he thought, and after that first latex toy he gave up his fist. And never went back. And when he fucked it to the point it ripped in two he knew he had to do something. Fast. And when he found himself in that store on the state line -- again -- he knew he had crossed an invisible line. He was not one of those slimeballs he always avoided like a plague. He hated it but had to deal with it. So when he found that replacement he could not help but continue looking around, ignoring the glances? stares? from anyone within range. When his eyes focused on the dildoes in front of him he almost laughed. Like what the hell's he supposed to do with those? Use them on his wife while he's filling his plastic friend with his jizz? Yeah she'd divorce him on the spot, right after she called the shrinks. So why he picked one up and actually left with it he had no idea. More of a joke than anything, he told himself. Of course it didn't take long before he started "experimenting" with it. And after he discovered how it felt to empty his nut into his plastic friend while that dildo was in his shithole... And after this Saturday afternoon, actually seeing and hearing guys talk about taking real live cock up the butt! Man, even if he couldn't get in on that scene, just the thought sent him home to empty a nut for the third time that week. The offer to join the "party" tonight was too freaking weird to pass up, and the ordeal of being on stage in front of the fuckin cameras was worth it, just for a chance to really see something like this up close and personal like. And now feeling his cock in the fucking tightest hottest hole ever, and this weird itchy tingling taking over his sensitive head was causing him to just about lose it. But what he really need now was the kid up his hole, is that sick or what? he asked himself. This was probably going to be his first and last chance so why not fuckin go for broke?

Matt was not really sure he heard the guy answer "yeah" because at that moment there was knock at the stage door! Matt and his hard-nippled friend almost jumped off outa their skins. And Kroos almost fell backwards off the table.

The door opened and there stood Mark, and behind him, shirtless and in jeans were the disappearing act of Chuck and Juan, not saying a word. That was until Arn spoke up,

"Damn it's about time you showed up! Thought you were never going to join us."

"I had to finish with the second string" Mark said, his voice muffled by the helmet he was wearing for no apparent reason. Even with his voice disguised, the guys recognized they were trying to revive the half-forgotten script. Sensing Big Nipples starting to freak Matt whispered something to him. Mister Red Nipples wanted nothing more than to bury his battering ram back into Kroos' obscenely stretched hole but with the shock of the interruption he shot Matt a look of total frustration. They managed to withdraw to the shower area with as little fuss as possible.

Mark stood there, football helmet, jersey and shorts, looking around the room waiting for the next line.

"So you changed your mind?" Bernan asked him, trying to stuff himself back inside his football pants. By that point they were so stained and greasy it took him too long to struggle with the snaps and laces to hide his swollen state.

"What's going ON here? Coach?" Mark tried to sound surprised and shocked. He was a great bodybuilder but a piss-poor actor. And like he hadn't been on and off that stage a thousand times already "what are you doing... coach?" looking at Kroos trying to straighten up, then at the exposed cock hanging from Arn's crotch, too lazy or too primed to follow Bernan's lead. Mark was trying hard to keep a straight face "what kinda bullshit is going on here?" still not convincing.

"We caught the coach here... and one of the students" Bernan looked around for Joel, remembering he was long gone "engaging in unacceptable behavior. So we had to punish them" rattling off the line, even though that "student" was right in front of him, feigning ignorance of everything. One for the mixing board editors, Bernan guessed.

"Unacceptable?" Mark bit his lip. Yeah like this ain't! He turned to Kroos "with a student? But you're married?" shit who wrote that?

"And now we are punishing him" Arn joined in.

"Well if it involves that shit" nodding at Arn's unavoidable length of hose "leave me out of it" Mark looked around the room, then headed back for the door like he wanted to leave.

"Naw, we need you here" Bernan continued the script "we need you to--"

And then the door opened again! This time everyone -- especially Mark still grabbing the doorknob -- jumped about three feet into the air. Obviously, this was not part of the script. Everyone did a double take when there was Moose wrestling with Joel and Joel's half-spin oozed him through the doorway first. Kroos gave him a desperate look. Damn you Joel! Can't you let leave it alone for five seconds?

Arn looked at Bernan who was looking at Mark. All of them were waiting for someone else to say something, anything! Even when Kroos got his legs back and went over by Joel pulling him down on the bench next to him, the "coaches" were stumped. That's when Moose cut in,

"Sorry coaches but I had to bring him here to see for himself" his voice was almost as muffled as Mark's, except he had no helmet. Somebody's too-tight jeans and t-shirt, looking oddly overdressed, but no helmet.

"Wha?" from Bernan, looking at Moose like he was out of his fucking mind!

"Yeah, these two were fighting in back" Moose gave Chuck a hard punch to his shoulder "almost trying to rip each other's clothes off" that was Moose's addition, no doubt "and Jo-Joseph over there tried to break it up, so I thought I better make'm y'know... you could keep an... eye... on them."

Moose gave a look at Chuck like: yeah just try it! He had left his cousin in the showers and slipped around backstage just as Chuck was trying to get into it with Mark, but Mark was not about to let him slip away into the night. Of course all Chuck would have done was barge into the kitchen area like some crazed methhead! No use upsetting the staff, Moose thought, grabbing him before he had that door half-open. There was a brief struggle and Mark caught a punch to his left eye -- hence the helmet! -- before Juan and Moose managed to convince him of the error of his ways. The two of them managed to "persuade" Chuck to the floor, Chuck ending up pinned by Juan's mass. It did not take long for Mister Johnson/Jones to come looking for his two stars, and when he heard the noise he joined them in pounding some sense into Chuck. Even without overhearing all the comments between Chuck and Willis, Mister Johnson/Jones tuned in how Chuck was very nervous about something. Sensing an advantage, Mister Johnson/Jones, part bluff part lucky guesses, convinced Chuck he was in on the blackmail -- which in a sense he was! -- and Chuck better do what he was told! Moose and Mark managed to "persuade" Chuck Mister Johnson/Jones knew the wrong kind of people. The way he looked at Moose after that comment dismissed any doubt in Moose's mind about those two. Luckily Chuck's fresh bruise along his side was masked by the several already there.

"So can you coaches keep an eye on these two hotheads?" Moose looked at Bernan and tried to make an exit "I gotta spli-- "

"No we need you here" Arn looked down at his professional-grade dick then at Moose with a smirk "you seem to always show up at the right times-- "

"But coach--"

"And contribute just the right... muscle" shaking his own to make the point.

"Like you need more... muscle" Moose grabbed himself right back.

"So to keep those hands busy" again the smirk "and keep that dick out of trouble" that was not a smirk "I'm putting you in charge of those two" pointing at Chuck and Juan "keep'm in line."

"But--"

"Y'heard the coach" from Bernan, almost catching Moose by surprise "you got our 'permission'. You do whatever you need to do to keep'm in line" looking at Moose right in the face "anything. And anything means 'anything' like those drills we put you through on that Saturday... 'anything' you read me?"

"Coach???"

"Anything" he turned back to Arn "now, where were we?"

"Oh... oh yeah..." Arn looked around, finding Kroos sitting on a bench catching his breath mopping himself with a dirty towel. He looked over at the guy at the console who was signalling "ten" with his fingers. Then he noticed first one, then the other cameraman break finish reloading. Okay last act! he thought.

"So Mar-Marty" Arn found where Mark was leaning against the wall opening, now abandoned "y'ever had a guy bring ya off?"

"What?" Mark leaned forward, not sure he heard that right "say wha?"

"Y'know..." Arn looked over at Kroos "like him. How about the coach there -- "

"I don't do that guy shit" Mark repeated his line, getting it out on the second try. After all he'd done so far, he was surprised no one laughed out loud. Instead he heard a lot of heavy breathing coming from everywhere. The sexual tension was close to the breaking point and he was holding the switch.

"Why not?"

"I'm not into that shit is all."

"Y'sure?" Arn gave Mark a hard look, hoping he would speed up his cues "you musta seen Kr-I mean the coach messing around with -- "

"Well once I saw..."

"When was that?" Joel jumped in. Here we go, he thought. Let's see if we can push this over the top.

"Four weeks ago--"

"You don't mean two?" Bernan responded and Mark got nervous. Only two hundred? That was not good. Their negotiations before had settled on two hundred for Kroos to blow him on camera -- which was already in the can -- and another four hundred for Mark to screw Kroos on camera. Now Mark was hearing the wrong numbers.

"You sure it wasn't... two weeks ago?" Arn tried to join the negotiations as well. He knew that if Mark didn't screw Kroos, then he would get that honor. And that was something his dick had been promised all day. And that was why he was up there trying to jump-start his re-entry into the business.

"No four, I'm sure" Mark looked at them, adjusting his helmet, but not taking it off.

"Hadda be two" Bernan was looking around, his eyes settling on Kroos "no doubt."

"No, I said four and I mean four" Mark stood his ground.

"Damn...." Bernan did not realize Arn was more than willing to take Mark's place "okay y'win. Four" he looked at Arn not expecting the reaction "so what did you see... four... weeks ago" knowing Mark would tell them what he would do, what they had agreed on, for that amount.

"Four... weeks ago" he looked at Kroos "I saw Kr-I mean the coach and one of the football team, and he was -- "

"Was he blowing him?" can't blame Arn for trying.

"Shit no..." Mark continued "all Kr-Coach was bent over one of the running backs and... right there in the locker room... buttfucking the kid."

"What?!?!" Bernan panicked. Shit, Mark was changing the script. They were screwed, or one of them might be "that can't be right! You musta been seeing--"

"Yeah" he glared at Bernan "buttfucking."

"Y'sure?" Bernan shot a glance at Arn "not just trading blow-jobs or--"

"Hell I know when someone has his dick buried to the hilt in somebody's ass."

"Fuck..." Arn groaned.

"Y'almost sound disappointed" Mark snapped, knowing he was screwing them over now.

"Well...." Bernan looked down at him. Not me, please not me.

"Fine" Arn came forward "show us what you saw."

"Hot idea ain't it?" Moose looked down at Chuck, seeing his increasing nervousness. He positioned himself so he could stay close to Chuck and still have some line-of-sight to the audience and hopefully Soulman as well.

He thought he could make out Ern looking between him something behind him.

It looked like Ern was squirming and Moose could only guess why.

"Knock it off" Chuck hissed. Juan tried not to smile or draw any attention to himself in any way, even sliding an inch or two away from Chuck, only bumping into Doug for his effort. But Juan was a bit too big to disappear behind anyone completely.

"I said, hot ain't it?" Moose continued louder, catching Arn's angry look "sure is hot. In here I mean."

"Shit..." Chuck was trying to look anywhere but at Kroos getting back on the table. And damn but the more that Moose kept opening his mouth, the more that one cameraman kept swiveling over to them. Shut up asshole, he thought.

"Yeah sure is hot" Moose rubbed Chuck's back, getting a good jump from him as a reward.

"Knock it off!"

"Shit dude yer sweating bullets" Moose saw the camera on them now "maybe takin off some of those clothes if yer... so hot" underlining the two words.

"Knock it OFF! I'm already half-naked asshole!"

"Go on do it... Charles" Moose egged him on "or do yer friends call ya Ch--"

"Shut up!"

"Strip down" Moose's hand was back on Chuck's back "or y'want Kr-I mean coach t'do it for ya--"

"Y'wouldn't dare--"

"Coach?" Moose caught Arn's eye, but Chuck could not see that. He feared he was calling for Kroos.

"Yeah?" Arn turned away from Kroos.

"Didn't ya tell these two to... keep the two in line? Well this one ain't--"

"Knock it off!" Chuck pulled away from Moose's hand.

"Y'heard them... Charles" Mark was watching Moose, not Chuck "don't make any trouble."

"But--"

"Remember what we talked about before? Remember? Your... record?"

"What record?" Moose was a master of playing the dumb jock when need.

"You bastard!" Chuck was getting to his feet, but Moose grabbed him.

"So unless you want your football... record" Mark repeated the word carefully "to... get out.. y'know, to the rest of the guys, you do what Mo-Morrie says. Don't make me remind you again" Mark looked at Moose, hoping he was not going to do anything stupid at this point. Little did he realize he just handed Moose a license to kill! Chuck froze until Moose's hand was back on his shoulder.

"Okay Charles, outa the clothes" Moose heard Soulman's cough somewhere in the darkness "you know you want to."

"You are fuckin dead you know that -- "

"Y'ain't tellin me nothin--" Moose then heard Ern's distinct groan and almost winked at thim. But both Ern and Big Hank were noting the sweat on Moose's forehead and chest, even as Ern was pumping his load into his shorts, knowing Moose was hitting his stride now.

"We gonna settle this..." and Chuck stood up and turned to Moose until their faces were inches apart. As he did he raised him arms like he was going to punch Moose's lights out. But Moose did not flinch. Instead he had to lean back to avoid catching his face on Chuck's elbows. He was close enough to smell his deodorant mixed with his sweat, his pits inches from his face. Moose took a deep breath, making sure Chuck saw it as he continued flexing his large arm and shoulder muscles for effect. Moose was busy running his eyes over Chuck's massive delts and biceps, his pecs firm and muscular, the slightest fur, a shade or two lighter, between the two muscled square plates. Moose made a point of running his eyes up and down Chuck's torso for his benefit, then let his gaze rest at Chuck's jeans. Chuck looked down at his jeans, glancing at Moose's crotch in the process. He made a point of noticing Moose was filling out.

"Y'gettin off on this ain't ya?"

"Big stud like you... yeah..." Moose moved his gaze back to Soulman out in the darkness "nothin like forcing a horny stud to drop trou when he don't know what's comin next-- "

"Well I don't -- and I ain't --"

"Do it Chuck -- the jeans and whatever y'got underneath-- "

"I'll mess ya real bad for this-- "

"Lookin forward to it" Moose pulled his gaze back from Soulman to see Chuck hesitating with the belt of his jeans "or y'want me t'do it for ya?"

"FuckYOU!" and Chuck with an angry defiant yank pulled the belt free of the loops, almost slapping Moose's front in the process. He tried to throw it at Moose's face but it bounced off the locker shelf and fell to the floor instead.

"That's okay y'won't be needin that."

"At least gimme a towel" Chuck thought this stage was an eyefull from the back row but up close and personal, under the lights and in front of the cameras, he was seeing more than he could take in.

"Pants next but t'show I'm a real nice bud y'can keep yer shorts on" Moose gave himself a few yanks when Chuck's roving attention went back to his crotch.

"You sure are the ballsiest dude I ever--"

"Takes one t'know one right?"

Chuck was out of those pants fast, tossing them in the closest open locker.

As soon as he did his hands flew to his crotch but not before Moose and half the audience saw a nice fat circumcized dickhead pressing against the front. Not too long but very meaty, with a couple of egg-sized balls to fill the front. His unshaved brown pubes were poking out of the top of the waistband, and the same hairs reappearing below the white pouch, covering his legs.

"Towel y'say? Sure thing" Moose went over and stole one of the wet towels from Kroos' table. Arn tried to pull it back but Moose was fast and Arn was distracted with what Kroos' mouth was doing to his dick. Moose walked the three steps back to Chuck, his swelling dick starting to make a major show on its own, full frontal and profile. Chuck made a point of snearing at it, then yanked the towel from Moose's hand and slamming his ass onto the bench in one fast blur. He bunched the towel onto his crotch as he looked around, glaring at one of the cameras across the room but still angled towards him. When he felt Moose step behind him and rest both hands on his shoulders he tried yanking away but Moose yanked him right back.

"Why don't ya bother yer other fag friend here" Chuck nodded his head at Juan who had taken a seat in front of the two Doughboys. Juan was more than happy to stay out of the line of fire so he let the comment slide. Moose just leaned over Chuck, smiling and rubbing his shoulders, pressing the hardness of his crotch into Chuck's back. And Chuck had to sit there, and not do a fucking thing about it.

During the distraction Bernan nodded at Moose, signaling for him to look in the locker behind him. Moose turned and started rifling through the various items, expecting to find various devices or contraptions suitable for such an evening's activities. The way Bernan was pointing, the choices were helmets or juice bottles. Moose pulled a helmet out and wiggled it at Bernan, y'mean this? Bernan nodded and no and mimicked drinking something. Moose pulled out two bottles and Bernan nodded yes. Moose was about to open when when Bernan pointed at Chuck, then Juan.

"So y'don't think I'm a total fuckwad" passing in down to Chuck.

"What, it's poison?"

"Don't be a wuss" and when Chuck saw Moose give Juan one as well, decided it wasn't spiked. When Moose grabbed a third, ignoring Bernan's gestures, and took a swig, Chuck downed his. He was collecting the empty bottle from Chuck when he noticed Mister Doughboy trying to switch places with Doug behind Juan's broad back. Moose was about to take a step or two over to him to see what he was planning, when Moose heard some feedback from the console, the guy throwing his headset across the table swearing. He expected a break in the show but even Doughboy there was back snapping pics, this time down at Juan's bare chest.

Moose rested his hands Chuck's shoulders again and then glanced out to find Big Hank again. With the lights moved closer to Kroos on the table, he could make out the bareest approximation of the silhouettes where he might be, and that was all. Juan stole a sideways glance and noticed that Moose's hands were rubbing lower and lower down on Chuck, past his shoulders down to his chest. By the time Kroos started to speed up on Arn's tube, a cumbath moments away, Moose's hands were past Chuck's shoulders and closing in on his hair-ringed nipples. At first Chuck tried to pull forward or knock Moose's hands away, but Moose had the leverage and the advantage. Juan tried to steal a peak beneath Chuck's bunched-up towel to see what effect it was having but Chuck's hands were plastered in his crotch.

Bernan was trying to catch Juan's eye at several points, trying to gauge his reactions to all this, but Juan looked like he would rather be anywhere else but there.

"He ain't gonna..." Chuck shook his head but watched the development closely.

"Feels real good" Moose continued working Chuck's muscle pecs and hard nipples "having some dude swallow yer load..."

"Ain't about to find out" Chuck was having trouble sitting still, his chest becoming more and more sensitive. And no matter how he tried to get away from those two paws, Moose's hands would not leave him alone!

"But dontcha think Kr-I mean the coach's ass is starting to feel a bit neglected? And your friend in the helmet thinks you ain't interested, huh!" Moose looked down at Chuck then over at Kroos, the way he was bent forward to keep one hand beneatch Arn's balls as his dick started to swell and then blam! Arn was fisting his dick, smearing the next shots of his load down Kroos' chin.

"Shut up..." Chuck continued his squirming, hoping Moose was not suggesting anything.

"Don't it look all empty like?"

"So go tell Muscledude to screw him" hoping Mark heard him "better yet stuff yer own cock in it" Chuck said loud enough for Arn to stop in mid-stroke.

"Chuck you can't wait t'get your dick in the coach's ass?" Moose whispered down at him.

"I can wait" Chuck got nervous. Shit they ain't gonna make me fuck his butt in front of all these cameras and shit are they? He saw Gil standing the audience and snarled at him. Like it was his fault or anything.

"The guys're right" Bernan looked at Chuck "Kr-the coach need to show Mark--I mean our guest here what -- but he's taking too long to -- well..." he looked at Moose "who's it gonna be?"

"My friend Ch-Charles here" Moose started, expecting and bracing for Chuck to pull away. When he did Moose brought his back to his previous position "was tellin me all this butt stuff is a real turn-on like -- "

"Shut up!"

"And he wants to show Ma-I mean your guest there he knows his way around... well shit where's that buttplug and Charles here can find a home for... y'know the coach again-- "

"You ain't--"

"Keep him nice'n open for when he and... and his friend there decide who's gonna plow him next..." looking at Chuck "right?"

"Go fuck yerself--"

"Do it" Moose started to pull him off the bench "for the... record."

"Damnyou--"

"Do it" Moose had his hands under Chuck's pits trying to lift him up. Chuck was in no hurry to stand.

"You make me ask you again..."

"Remember Chuck" Bernan looked at them "you follow his orders remember?"

Chuck glared at them, then at the camera. Slowly he started to get to his feet, more from Moose's efforts than his own. But he was keeping the towel in front of his shorts.

"I'll keep that for ya" Moose tried to yank it away from him. Chuck pulled away from him then, on his feet finally and half way across the room. But when Moose came after him, he had nowhere to back away to, and Arn was coming towards him as well, his pants still around his knees. So the next time Moose yanked at his towel, Moose's hand came away with it. Moose looked down at why Chuck was so freaked. The dude was more than half-way hard, his cotton briefs stained and stretching!

"Don't say it--" Chuck glared at Moose holding his towel.

"Man..." Moose was impressed "I knew when I saw you in the car you were like a total stud. Man that's awesome!"

"Fuck you" Chuck's hands were trying to cover his crotch, but were doing more tugging than covering.

"Looks like you are more than primed" Moose then looked at his Arn catching his breath "so where's... the coach's little friend?"

Bernan looked at him with a weird look, then realized Moose was asking about the buttplug. He looked around and found where it had been tossed into a locker with a dirty towel. He wiped it off and handed it to Moose.

"Not me, give it to Ch-Charlies here" looking at Chuck's face "naw don't get all girly on us, it's just a buttplug--"

"Yeah but it's like been in someone's ass--"

"Where's it's like goin again" Moose watched Chuck hesitate "hurry up. Before the d-the coach's gonna have his mouth full of more cum again" looking back at Mort "where's that lube?"

"Use the gel" from Arn, finding the tube and tossing it at Chuck. He caught it with one hand but some of the goo oozed into his palm.

"Hurry up grease up the badboy" Moose took the buttplug from Bernan and practically shoved it into Chuck's chest. Chuck jumped like it was alive!

"Do it... for the record" Moose was getting impatient.

Chuck took the buttplug from where Moose had lodged it between his chest and arm, trying to handle it with two fingers, but it was still slippery. With both hands now busy, there was nothing to cover his crotch, and everyone, especially Moose, made a point of directing their attention at what was trying to poke out the stretched fly. With Moose threatening to grab those shorts, Chuck managed to grease the plug with the green goo, and with Moose's pushing, headed over where Kroos was bent over the table. When he saw Chuck approach with it, he closed his eyes and leaned backwards, his hands busy with Bernan's repositioning. As he felt his arms being pinned to his side, Bernan's crotch almost in Kroos' face, he felt Chuck bring the greased tip into the already greasy cum-smeared crack. It took Chuck several attempts before he found Kroos' puckered and swollen hole and with a great deal of grimacing, Chuck managed to shove it in, none too gently. When it was past the fat middle it slid in almost by itself. Chuck could not wait to clean his hands of the slimy mess.

"Gimme my towel" he barked at Moose behind him "now!" but again they heard that muffled squaking from the console, and that guy's headset was pulled off again.

"Still got that green shit on your hand don't ya?"

"Yeah and it's starting to itch! So gimme the--"

"Not until--" and Moose was cut off by Bernan almost knocking him and his close-up camera over in his hurry to slide his way over to the mixing board.

He heard a quick muffled argument picking out the words "busted" or "overload" "fix it!" "storm south".

"Y'ain't off the hook!" Moose left Chuck standing there grimacing, trying to shift his weight back and forth, and went back to where the Doughboys and Juan were exchanging monosyllable comments. He went next to Doug,

"What's up with that?"

"The dude's like major pissed" Doug tried to avoid Mister Doughboy's interruptions "something keeps interfering with the signal."

"Like what?"

"Something about electrical storm, heat lightning down by the Illinois border."

"So?" Moose didn't want a weather report; he wanted to see Chuck naked and going for the the sex olympics record for loads dumped in an hour!

"They can't transmit if they can't get through" Doug turned to look at the console again just when the argument at the console got louder. They both heard "jamming the signal too much lightning" and this time Moose and Doug looked at each other, the message sinking in, both getting it at once.

"You say what I thought?"

"You hear what I thought?"

"But that Bigfoot guy was supposed--"

"Ain't stickin around to find him and ask him" Moose grabbed Doug, then looked at Doughboy Senior "you!"

"Me?" from both Juan and Doughboy.

"You!" Moose looked at the guy trying to hide behind Juan "you take over for me" and tossed him the oozing tube of green gel. Before he had a chance to say "boo" Moose and Doug headed for the shower room. And kept going.

"You heard him" Arn tried to signal Moose not to leave but the two were around the shower room door fast. When he heard someone turn on a shower, he assumed the two were concocting a plan in the other area, but none of the cameramen were following in that direction "you are in charge of these two now."

"Charge? Charge how?" Mister Doughboy stood there, looking for some place to wipe his hand, his palm already green and itching.

"Y'can start with Charles here" Arn wasted no time getting his dick back out and rubbing it on Kroos' face, knowing someone's dick was going to be finding itself in his other end soon enough. And his was going to be ready, all he needed was his trademark five minute recovery time "he needs to do something with that thing he's holding."

"Shit..." Doughboy wanted to kill that kid, leaving him here like this. His part was to stay out of the limelight and make sure everyone else put their neck in the noose, not him! But when Moose did his disappearing act and tossed him the tube, Doughboy suspected he was being set up for something. And that Charles guy was just as unhappy as he was with this "okay y'better do what the man says--"

"What YOU say" Arn pointed at Doughboy, then signaled Bernan to back him up in case Chuck went postal on them "your job now to put those two through their paces."

"Me? Why me?"

"Guess your lucky number finally got called" Arn pointed at Chuck's item in his right hand "tell him what to do. You the boss now."

And nothing Doughboy liked hearing more than that,

"Okay bud, y'heard the man grease it up and run it home" Doughboy looked at Chuck then at the audience "or y'need lessons how to lube a dick."

"I'll kill ya--"

"If this shit don't kill ya first" Doughboy slapped some of the green goo right down the middle of Chuck's chest "do it and don't make me tell ya again. Do it!"

Chuck scraped as much as he could onto the dildo, starting to jump around like he already had it on his goods, wiggling like Juan's torn shorts were giving him a case of the crabs.

With the head smeared Chuck stepped over to Kroos bent over the table and pressed it between his legs. Kroos barely adjusted his weight before Chuck found the opening and pused it in like he was late for an appointment.

"Shit I gotta--" looking around like he had to find the facilities fast.

"Y'gotta what?" Bernan looked over at Juan, who was almost doubled forward, squirming and twisting as well.

"Man where can I take a piss?" Juan answered for both of them.

"Right here" Mark removed his helmet, pointing to the blackening eye he received from Chuck "remember this?"

"Damn..." Chuck's main worry went from getting that shit off his chest and hands to getting his bladder emptied fast "I mean now! Where's the--"

"You both gonna piss right there" Mark held the helmet out "and to make sure there are no hard feelings, y'can hold it for each other!"

"Fuck you! Not a fuckin chance!"

"Cause y'wouldn't be up here" Arn felt Kroos' mouth return to his dick now that his ass was adjusting to the violent invasion "if y'weren't so good at yankin the meat."

"No... it's okay..."Juan saw the walls caving in on him now. Once his dick was out and on display, it was only a matter of time before he was expected to be using it. And judging by the increasing pace on stage, he was going to be drilling some holes real soon "just lemme go somewhere and piss..."

"Right here" Mark stood there holding the helmet at knee level "right now. Unless y'wanna just piss yerself like a little kid."

"Damn..." Juan struggled to his feet, still bent forward a bit, his hand tucked under his stomach. When he went over to Mark he was already pulling the front of his jeans open, flopping the monster cock out and towards the inside of the helmet.

"Get over there and hold it for him" Bernan barked, knowing it was all over then "do it!"

"Yeah do it" Doughboy echoed doing his best to push Chuck away from Kroos. Had Chuck's bladder not been screaming bloody murder at that point it would have been a struggle. But Chuck was past the point of debate, Doughboy's grip steering his shoulder towards Mark's helmet and Juan's already streaming dick.

Chuck almost knocked Juan out of the way in his hurry to whip out his dick and fill up that helmet with his piss. But when Doughboy barked "y'heard the man, hold it for him!" Chuck almost froze in mid-piss!

"I can't!" trying to hold up his greasy hand "I still got this shit on my--"

"Do it!" hissed Doughboy, almost grabbing his hand and moving it for him. Juan was almost finishing when he looked down and there was that greasy hand grabbing him around the base, almost shutting off the flow. Then Juan felt the goo take effect and all thoughts of shaking out the last drops disappeared as he felt himself start to respond.

"You too!" Doughboy yelled at Juan "his dick too!"

Juan gave Chuck a tentative look as his hand grabbed Chuck's cock in turn. When the full effect of the gel started to take hold, and Chuck started a less gentle tugging at the grotesquely large piece of meat, Juan realized he needed to even the score. Seeing Doughboy's eyes at Chuck's chest, Juan smeared some of the goo downwards, making a long green trail over his fuzzy belly, down into his pubes and around the head of Chuck's hardening cock. Once they were both greased and jacking each other like old friends, it was almost a race to see who was going to be in Kroos first!

"And keep it off yer balls! Even I ain't that sadistic--" from Arn, seeing them jostling for position.

"Why--"

"Do it! And that's the direction you're getting from me. Well?" looking at Doughboy like this was all his fault.

Chuck was wincing before he even got to the foot of Kroos' table. He started to bend forward, trying to protect his dick from the increasing itching and swelling but Doughboy barked at him and gave him enough of a shove to let him know that he would have to best Juan for first dibs.

So he barely noticed when Juan's hand of his cock pushed him aside as he tried to tug that dildo free of Kroos' ass, then Chuck's greasy hand was doing the same, then their other hands were at each others' cocks, pushing and shoving, each one trying to get there first.

"Fuck I gotta get this shit off my dick!" and with a hard shove Chuck managed to muscle Juan out of the way, and force his dick into Kroos' crack just as Bernan came up behind him. Juan swore at Bernan and tried to come around the table to replace Arn, but between the comments coming from the console between Mister Johnson/Jones and the guy trying to get the equipment working again, then the sound of loud footfalls on the wooden scaffolding at the opening, no one heard what Kroos was shouting.

Instead Rocko's head poked through the opening,

"We're all finished back here" he announced to no one in particular. Bernan was trying to keep Chuck in place while answering,

"Fine. If you're done you can go or you want to finish what you started before..."

"Yeah bet someone here wants to swing on your dick" Chuck found the stretched hole and had rammed his fat cock home hard, yelling back at the wall waiting for someone to stop him now he was fucking Kroos in earnest, whether this was what they planned or not. Once that nasty gel hit his dick there was no doubt what he was doing.

"I'm fuckin someone and I don't care who if you don't get out of my way!" Juan pushed past Bernan, almost pulling Chuck free of Kroos. But once Chuck's dick found its target, there was no force on earth could stop him until he was blowing at least three loads deep inside whatever hot wet hole it found that night.

"Find another pussy" Chuck yelled over his shoulder.

"Move unless you want this up your butt!"

"I ain't moving!"

"Like hell you ain't--" Juan grabbed Chuck around the waist but then everyone heard Mister Johson/Jones yelling something,

"Stop stop STOP!" he had to repeat it.

"What?" came from all directions.

Big Hank and Willis raised their heads to looked at each other fast. This it? We're finally closing this down? and the two tried to disengage their hands and dicks from the cum-splattered circle of guys, expecting to see uniformed cops coming through the door.

But Juan knew one way to get Chuck to move fast. As soon as he felt that lubed monster between his thrusting buttcheeks, Chuck was half way across the room! Juan was going to be content to rub his piece up and down Kroos' vacated crack, and blow his impending load like that when he felt someone's hand trying to get a grip on it, the fingers barely able to get around it, Chuck feeling the head being directed at that swollen stretched gaping hole and then he felt his lubed head start to stretch it wider and wider and damn but he didn't feel his dick start to invade only the second hole ever. He looked at Doughboy's expression, his hand never leaving Juan's dick as the fat head popped past the ring, Kroos screaming before his mouth was filled with Arn's cock again. Juan was too overwhelmed to move, even when Chuck tried the same scare game, rubbing his cock up and down Juan's crack, a feeling Juan had never ever experienced before. All Juan could do was bend foward, resting his weight on his hands as his chest pressed down onto Kroos, expecting him to pass out any time. But Kroos lay on the table, slowly cathing his breath between lunges of Arn's cock, slowly accomodating the first third of Juan's prize winner.

"Relax man" Juan whispered "if y'don't this is gonna hurt somethin fierce" and he guided the head of his missile out of Kroos' pucker and then eased it back in. He felt a slight resistance but by that point Kroos was beaten.

He brought one hand down and reached around Kroos' sweaty hip finding his fat hard cock. His fingers grabbed it around the neck, the electrical shock of actually fisting another dude's hardon while his was bulldozing its way deeper inside traveled through his entire body, concentrating in his own cock and he plunged it in another inch. Kroos flinched beneath him. Good! he thought, now wait til you feel this!

"You better not try it!" Juan hissed over his back, Chuck's cockhead making short stabbing motions at his own sensitive crack, almost trying to penetrate his butthole.

"It's your butt next" Chuck was going to bust a cherry if this guy didn't finish soon.

"You wish!" Juan sputtered, his hand full of dick. When he felt it spasming from the number Juan's dick was doing inside him, Juan lost the battle, the tight hole and the tingling goo sending him over the top and he was unable to keep from erupting deep into Kroos.

"Fuuuuuuuuuccck!!!! I'm cummin y' fuckin ass!" Juan gave about a dozen shallow quicks thrusts and then pulled out fast. His green-slicked cock was free of the stinging hole but still throbbing. Before he could catch his breath, Chuck has bumped him out of the way, Kroos' barely recovering before Chuck's dick was buried in him to the hilt.

"Yeah punk feel that! Y'wanted my dick all night!" Chuck gave all of two lunges into Kroos before his cum was mixing with Juan's, one down and three to go, his dick pumping and plunging again and again, nothing short of a bomb going off would get him out of Kroos now.

But Chuck never reckoned on the combined force of Bernan and Arn coming after him. He almost dislocated Kroos' hip as they pulled Chuck off him, his cock almost pumping the air as his hips kept rocking even though they held him in a full nelson between them. And then Arn's cock finally found homebase, finally made its way to the promised land, all the teases and interruptions from the afternoon now half-forgotten as Arn's professional grade dick started a slow deep thrusting into Kroos, the loads of how many prior guys oozing out around his shaft and down to his balls as he stared down the camera and delivered the best fuck of his career.

He was too much the pro to worry when Chuck came up behind him and threatened the same stunt with his ass. Chuck made sure to spread his legs and brace himself for that beercan dick when Chuck's jabs became serious thrusts. Arn was too deep into Kroos to do much more than relax his ring as Chuck's cock forced its way into him. He enjoyed the thought that Chuck was more shocked than he was, never expecting Arn to let himself be fucked like this. And when Bernan directed Juan's barely softening firehose to Kroos' face, Arn knew this could not last forever, even when Rocko's disappointed face reappeared at the opening in the wall.

Arn pulled his cock free, impaling himself harder on Chuck's sensitive cock, making sure the camera got his dick from its best angle before he eased it back in, his fist reaching under Kroos to make sure he was enjoying this as well. When he heard Kroos' muffled groan and felt it throbbing in time to his thrusts, he knew they hired the right guy, even if it meant that amateur was about to blow his second load deep inside him, no match for the way Arn could flex his butt muscles and bring him off whether he wanted it or not, and if no one saw his money shot, it served that bastard right. So it didn't take a lot of expert moves before Arn could feel Chuck's tool swell, he didn't need to hear the screams coming from him to know his chute was filling with his jizz, and there was nothing Chuck could do about it.

Arn was almost expecting Doughboy to dive into the action next when he saw Bernan doing something to Juan's python in Kroos' throat, Juan clenching his jaw tight with either pleasure or pain then. With his own cock poised for the next and final descent into Kroos' hole Arn froze! Suddenly the house lights were on! Everyone started screaming as Juan then Arn then the whole cast saw guys in blue pouring into the room from the showers from the back from the stage door from all directions! The jig was up!