This story is fiction but was inspired by a fantasy once shared with me by a friend. I welcome your comments at er14990606@gmail.com.
Disclaimers: The writer reserves all rights to this story. The story and characters are all products of my imagination and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is unintentional. If you enjoy Nifty, consider a contribution.
The Softball Team
When I moved to town, I only knew people from work, so I joined a softball team to meet new people. There were eight other guys, all in their 20s and 30s. Some were married. A few had children. Most were single like me. As a guy who has loved male sex since I first sucked cock and got fucked at Boy Scout Camp, I thought about each of my team mates sexually. I undressed them in my mind. Saw myself sucking this one, being fucked by that one. I thought about the married ones, on how they pleased their women by fucking with their big cocks, and then I saw myself there instead, under them, receiving those hard, deep thrusts. I jacked to these thoughts, but I kept all of this to myself and made no hints or advances. I just wanted to be a good team player and have the friendship and respect of the others.
Jim, the third baseman, and I shared devotion to the same MLB baseball team, and he invited me over to eat pizza and watch a game. I came with beer. We drank two brews a piece, ordered pizza, and finished off the six pack. With two innings left, my host broke out the whiskey and we were getting shitfaced. The game ended and we talked. I walked unsteadily to the bathroom, and we both laughed.
Jim said, "You better stay here tonight. You can't drive if you can't walk."
We were both on the floor. I laid on my back, staring at the ceiling. Jim sat with his back to the sofa. The whiskey flowed and the talk continued. Jim told me that he dated a girl for the past year, but it was over.
He asked, "Are you going with anyone right now?"
I said, "No, not right now."
Jim replied, "That settles it, man. Next weekend you and I are going pussy hunting. I know a bar with great looking girls. We both need to fuck."
Here I was, drunk, looking at a guy whose image I jacked off to just a few days ago, talking to me about finding girls to fuck. The booze was working on me, breaking down my usual posture as a straight dude. I felt confessional. I had a secret, and like every secret, it yearns to be shared.
I said, "I like to fuck."
"Hell, yes," replied Jim. "Don't we all."
"No, it's different. I like to be fucked."
Jim's brain was in slow gear from the drinking, but as soon as he comprehended what I said, he jumped up and walked fast to his bedroom. Back he came. Standing there with a grin on his face and a bottle of lube in his hand, and said, "Let's do it."
I unbuckled my belt, raised my hips and started to push my jeans down. Jim grabbed each leg and pulled them off of me. I slid down my underwear and kicked them off. Jim discarded his tee shirt and gym shorts and was standing there. His erection was growing, bobbing upward as blood fills his tool. I had dreamed of it. Now I saw it. Seven inches at least with a nice helmet on the end. His hairless balls sitting close to his body.
There was no foreplay. Jim lubed his cock and knelt. I grabbed my legs at the knees and pulled them back, raising my bottom. Jim ran his lubed fingers over my puckered hole. He braced himself on one arm, guided his cock to my boy pussy, and pushed his tool beyond the door. With both arms bracing his body over me, he moved his hip and slid his dick slowly and smoothly all the way in.
I had that wonderful sensation of being filled, having a man take possession of me. Jim began a gentle, rhythmic dance with his dick, of back and forth, in and almost out and in again. My legs were now on his shoulders. My hands were free and I used them, placing my two palms against his smooth pecs, holding his muscled arms, and finally jacking my super hard dick. I looked up at him. He was looking straight ahead, beyond me, to some spot across the room, almost indifferent to me. I knew what it meant. He was focused on his cock and did not want to admit that he was having man sex. I wanted to reach up and pull his face to mine and kiss his lips, but I didn't. That would be too much for him. I was fortunate to have his cock in me, I couldn't be greedy.
Still, as I jacked, I watched his face. His mouth was open as his breathing deepened. He closed his eyes tightly as his excitement increased. Then he turned his face towards me. He smiled. He stared into my eyes. The tide had turned. He was filled with excitement and sexual energy and he appreciated this guy, his friend, who had offered his body for his pleasure. I saw lust and affection.
"I'm going to cum," he said low and breathlessly.
I answered back, "Give it to me." Our eyes were locked. We were about to share a magic moment. He signaled the start of his orgasm with a moan just as I shot squirt after squirt of spunk across my chest. Our breathing slowed, he softened, my feet rested on the floor, he eased out, we laid together side by side on the floor.
"Oh, shit! That was good," said Jim.
I answered, "Yeah, that was good. You are good." That was all that was said. Minutes passed. The next thing I knew, I was waking up, still on the floor. There was a pillow under my head and a sheet over me. I had slept the night on the floor. Jim had made me comfortable. I saw him stretched out on the sofa. Neither of us had gotten far from the place of our powerful and exhausting sex the night before. We woke. He made some coffee and found yogurts in the frig.
He said with a light laugh in his voice, "Boy, did I get drunk last night." I said the same for myself. Both of us avoided that excuse often muttered after such a night about being drunk and not remembering what happened. We both knew and remembered clearly what had taken place right on the living room floor.
Our softball game was Saturday afternoon. We were the last game on the field that day. As usual, we parked our cars in a cluster at the end of the parking lot. Each week someone was designated to bring a cooler of beer for all to share. The game was a blowout. We won 9 to 2. It was hot and I pulled off my shirt, as had several others. I had opened the back of my SUV and was sitting there, beer in hand, legs dangling over the rear bumper. The captain of our team walked up and then the other players gathered around. Jim was standing there in their midst.
The team captain said with a grin, "Jim tells us you are a hot piece of ass. Speaking on behalf of the team, we would like to sample your wares." He was trying to be cute with his language, but the message was clear. Eight guys wanted to fuck me.
I had fantasized about them all, wondering how they looked naked, thinking about their cocks, dreaming of sucking them or getting their erections up my ass. Now fantasy became reality. I did not really think about whether I could take eight fucks in a row. Not saying anything, I put my beer aside, stood up, pulled off my pants, turned and leaned into the Jeep, putting my face on the carpeted trunk, my arms stretched out.
I pushed my bottom into the air and said, "Call out your name so I know who you are."
A moment passed as the team captain pushed down his pants. I could feel him standing behind me. He called out his name. He had a beer in his hand and he poured some down the crack of my ass and then poured more on his hard cock. Someone yelled out, "Beer fuck!" and there was laughter. Immediately I felt the head of his dick pushing on my hole. The beer eased the entry, and he moved into me completely.
Suddenly I was filled. He was thick. My adjustment was swift. He felt so good. I thought of how he uses his tool to please his wife, to sire two children. His dick is now in me and it wants me. He began, moving from slow to faster and faster thrusts. He was holding my hips and I was moving back on him as he pushed his hips forward. Each pump of his hips pushed his manhood against my prostate and caused me to softly moan with pleasure. His movements told me he was close, and then he gripped my hips tighter with his hands and pushed on my bottom as streams of cum emptied into me.
Next was the shortstop who called out his name as he slid his dickhead up and down my crack before entering me. The shortstop was an agile guy, graceful on the ball field. He fucked the same way. The movement of his dick in me was like a dream. He was long, the longest I would have that day, and it was pure pleasure reaching so deep into me. He announced his climax with "Ahhhh."
The catcher was next and he called out his name as had the others. The catcher was shorter and stockier than the rest of the team with powerfully build legs that he used to squat throughout the game. His cock was thick but shorter. He used his powerful frame and fucked my boy pussy like a piston going in and out at the same swift speed from the time he entered me until the time he withdrew. He told me, "Here it is," as his balls emptied into me, and in my mind, I could see and feel the shots of cum juice he left in me, joining the two previous cum dumps.
If I had any doubts of whether I could take all eight of my buddies' dicks in my pussy, it disappeared as the catcher withdrew. I was empty. I wanted more. I needed more. I did not have to wait, for the next guy was right there in position. So, they came, one after another, cocks of different sizes, some quick to shoot, some long lasting, but all hard and wanting me, and they all left me the gift of their cum. Some guys held my hips. Some would hold my shoulders. A few would touch me in a sensual way by running their hands up the small of my back or holding my torso just below the arms. The last was the guy to whom I had shared my drunken secret and who had told it to the team. I was grateful for it.
He said softly, "It's Jim."
His cock slide in easily. My hole was gapping and my channel was filled with cum. He fucked me as he had done before and I lay there accepting his hunches as I dreamed of his face and his eyes as we shared his first climax in me. When he came, he was holding my shoulders. After the last shot left his dick and he was finished, he panted me affectionately on the shoulder three times. To me it signaled that I had done a good job, I had taken all their cocks, drained their balls, and pleasured eight friends.
I lifted myself from the back of the Jeep and turned. There were my eight team mates with eight cocks, some soft now, some were still softening, and a few, like the shortstop's, seemed to have recharged and was hardening again. From my hole dripped the cum loads of all of them. It was running down the insides of both my legs. I reached down and scooped up cum and grabbed my cock. I was ready and it only took five whacks on my dick before I shot, the first stream going nearly three feet, followed by four more.
The team captain spoke. "On behalf of the team, I want to say that we all are looking forward to next week's game."