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Champs party -- Oliver Frey

The transfer jock (2) -- by Jack Richards


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(The first episode ended:)

“Coach, I’m 18,” he said, as if that mattered, “and you’ve never seen me hard.” No, of course I’d never seen him hard, but God knows I’d imagined him hard, I’d imagined his hard cock in my mouth, up my ass, my cock cracking his freshly•rimmed dripping wet hairy ass every single night while I masturbated. No doubt the forbidden nature of Jeff’s fruit contributed to my my feelings, but I’d never wanted anyone more in my life.

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“No fucking way,” I responded, but without conviction. Jeff grabbed my hand and planted it firmly on his prominently bulging bulge. I groaned. “What are you going to do, Coach, punish me?” he asked in a naughty tone. “‘Cause I think I’d enjoy that. It’s not like I’m a virgin, Coach, you won’t be corrupting me. I know what I’m doing,” Jeff whispered urgently, just before his other hand, suddenly on the back of my head, pulled my face toward his.
Jeff’s hungry lips found mine and parted, his tongue probing for entry. As my mouth opened for him, Jeff’s hand left mine on his throbbing boner (and I never considered moving it) and found my own throbbing boner. Now it was Jeff who groaned.
“Fuck, dude, you’re packing,” Jeff panted through our kisses, his hand running up, down and back up the length of my cock, “and you’re fucking ready. I want you balls•deep inside me, Coach...right fucking now...I beat off every night thinking about you inside me, Coach...shower with me...please...”
This encounter had already gone too far, but I knew the shower would be a point of no return. Maybe if I’d “innocently” accepted Jeff’s “innocent” invitation to shower with him at the onse, nothing more would’ve happened...maybe. But if I went into the shower with him now, it would be to fuck him, and give his cock a good do-over. I squeezed that cock then and we both groaned.
“Let’s go to my house,” I suggested lamely, playing for time, hoping that if he agreed I’d somehow find the fortitude to turn him away by the time he got there.
“Fuck that,” Jeff said, laughing as he took a half•step back and peeled his wet T•shirt off. My eyes rested on his perfect pecs and then followed his treasure trail down to his waistline...as he dropped his gym shorts and jockstrap to reveal what had to be an eight•inch boner striving for the ceiling. “Now you, Coach,” he instructed, pulling his cock down by its engorged mushroom head and letting it go to thwack back against his taught, flat belly. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
“Tell you what, Coach,” Jeff persisted when I still didn’t make a move to undress, “you fuck me in the shower now, as fast and hard as you can, and then I’ll come over to your house for you to show me how lovers should really fuck each other...all night long.” 
I just stood there, letting hot, sweaty Jeff make my decision for me, not resisting him as he made it, lifting my shirt over my head, dropping to his knees to pull my shorts and jock down, taking my throbbing cock into his mouth like someone with plenty of experience sucking dick. “Shower,” I insisted, pulling Jeff up to his feet.
“You look so fucking hot,” that kid told me, playing to my vanity, and it was working. “Ripped...and that fucking cock, dude, all of you is so much better than I’ve been fantasizing about. Coach, do you mind me asking how old you are? And don’t be shy...I’m into older dudes, the older the better.”
“Thirty•four,” I said, laughing. “Should I add a couple years, or subtract a couple?” Jeff was pressing his big cock against mine insistently, kissing me deeply again. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. My bad fortune, the disaster that awaited me for taking advantage of my good fortune, I understood all too well.
“Don’t change a fucking thing,” Jeff whispered, then led me by my throbbing cock into the shower room. We turned on several of the shower•heads, hot and steamy, but before the heavenly aphrodisiac of his musky jock•sweat was washed away in the shower I buried my face in one of his sweaty armpits, inhaling his scent.  
Only then did I push him back against the wall. Kneeling, I sucked his left nut into my mouth, worked it over, expelled it and repeated with his right. Back and forth between his heavy, sagging nuts, back and forth. I eventually began working my way up his hard shaft, then circled the rim of its flaring head several times with my tongue. Finally, I inhaled as much of Jeff’s thick, eager cock as I could.
Long before I’d had my fill of sucking his cock, I stood up and spun Jeff around. While we were likely safe from discovery, I knew that several other people had keys to the locker room, and getting caught with my cock up my student•athlete’s ass wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. We needed to hurry. Jeff braced against the wall, spreading his legs and sticking that sweet fuzzy peach of an ass out to meet what he expected to be my cock...and what I’d expected, initially, would be my cock...but the sight of that wet, curly hair spilling out of his crack inflamed my...imagination.
Instead, it was my tongue that first burrowed into Jeff’s delicious crack. “Holy fuck,” he exclaimed, pounding his hand against the wall, when my tongue penetrated his rectum. “So THAT’S what all the rimming porn is about...I had no fucking idea...” I redoubled my efforts, giving him at least idea how good an experienced tongue could feel when applied to (and inserted into) the right hole.
As I stood to shove my cock all the way up my new star tight•end’s rear end, I had a nearly•deflating thought. “Fuck,” I barked sharply, “fucking condoms...I didn’t think...” No, I hadn’t thought at all. Not about anything. It was one (terrible) thing for a coach to butt•fuck one of his players in the locker•room showers, but it was an entirely different (worse) thing for a coach to bare•back one of his players in the locker•room showers. If butt•fucking one of my charges was a felony - and it was - then blowing an unprotected load in him would likely be a capital offense.
“Relax, Coach,” Jeff replied smoothly, “I’ve got you covered...in my locker...don’t move.” He was gone and back, rolling a condom down my boner, in a flash. “Lube, too,” he said, handing me a small squeeze bottle.
I couldn’t help myself and started laughing as I lubed my freshly•shrouded cock and its waiting 18•year•old receptacle. “What’s so funny?” Jeff demanded. “That I’m obviously not your first in my locker room,” I responded, not asking.
“You’ll be the first dude to top me in here,” my star tight•end responded cheerfully, putting a positive spin on my place in his pecking order. “All the others I topped.” Jeff helpfully spread one of his firm ass cheeks for me, keeping one hand on the wall, and I spread the other, revealing his brown, puckered ass•hole.
“ALL the others?” I asked, laughing even harder as I decided to skip the finger test and instead pressed the head of my cock into my tight•end’s not•so•tight bulls•eye.
“BOTH the others,” Jeff corrected himself. “THAT...oh yeah...do that...” he urged as I worked the head of my dick in and out of the first inch or so of his anal canal. “Fuck yeah, Coach...” I reached around him and gripped his thick cock firmly as I pushed further in...not exactly easily, but more easily than I’d expected.

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Jack Richards is the pen name of a southern lawyer and prolific Tumblr author of prose porn.
This piece appeared first on Jack's Tumblr website. More will follow.

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