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The Transfer Jock (16) -- By Jack Richards

Mitchell had something in his pants that Sam really liked...and I needed to find out what that was...

Having pounded the fuck out of me for third time, and blowing his copious load in my mouth, Jeff was telling me the story of how he and the team’s skinny red•headed horse•hung manager, Mitchell, had first hooked up: “So I noticed that Mitchell only ever had eyes for Sam’s junk, and Sam only ever looked at Mitchell like he wished he was naked, so it was pretty clear to me that, No. 1, they were more or less a couple, and, No. 2, Mitchell had something in his pants that Sam really liked...and I needed to find out what that was...”


“It took me a couple days to work out the fact that Mitchell never changed or showered in the locker•room—” Jeff continued.
“That’s changing beginning tomorrow,” I interrupted him. “There’s a new rule that in addition to the players, any other students who are on the field during practice are required to shower...per health department regulations, or some such shit.”
Jeff shot me a knowing look. “You sly•as•fuck dirty old man,” he correctly observed. “Anyway, since that new rule wasn’t in effect yet, the only time I could get a look at the manager’s unit was when he was taking a leak..so I kept an eye on Mitchell and sidled up next to him at the urinals at the next opportunity. I had to be very fucking obvious about checking out his equipment, which I was, in order to get that skinny little fucker to even notice me...then I noticed the fuck out of what Sam kept trying to see through Mitchell’s pants...
“So every time Mitchell had to piss over the next couple of weeks, I popped up right next to him flopping out my unit and watching him hauling out cock for days...one thing finally actually did lead to another, me twirling my cock around a few times one day, showing him wood another, the usual stuff, you know. He was clearly becoming interested, I think the woody pushed him over the edge, and he finally bit on my offer of mutual hand•jobs, which we did after practice in my front seat...talk about a fucking handful...
“We did that shit a couple more times, and then escalated PDQ into sucking each other off...I’ll tell you, Coach, that skinny little redhead is horny as fuck, assertive, aggressive, not fucking shy....anyway, next thing I know Mitchell’s pestering me to let him fuck me, and I’m saying, ‘Great concept, Mitch, but I’m the senior and I really ought to be the one fucking you’...
“...and the next thing he knows, Mitchell, who had confided in me by then that he’s porking the fuck out of Sam’s big hairy ass on a regular, i.e., almost daily, basis, agreed to flip what he didn’t know was a two•headed quarter - I’d fucking known he’d call ‘Tails’ - to decide which one of us was going to fuck the other one in his virgin ass first. Needless to say, Mitchell lost, but he did get his horizons expanded and a marker to fuck me in the ass sometime soon. That’s it in a nutshell, Coach.”
“Did it hurt much? Mitchell, I mean, losing his cherry?” I asked, imagining Jeff working hard to work his thick kielbasa into Mitchell’s tight pink hole, surrounded by a riot of flaming red ass hair, then picturing his skinny butt driving his giant ginger cock into Sam’s big hairy ass...
“Sure it hurt,” Jeff replied, “in the usual way, you know, it hurt, but not so bad that he ever wanted me to stop fucking him...and of course I was gentle and patient and all that shit. And that little fire•cracker wanted my cock up his butt again the very next day...while he was still walking funny from the first treatment I’d given him. So, Coach, I’d have to say Mitchell took my cock like a fucking man, like a man who hasn’t taken nearly the last cock he’ll ever take up his ass.”
“Did Mitchell get what he wanted the next day?” I asked, wanting badly to give Mitchell what he’d wanted that day. My cock throbbed at the thought of driving into his tight pink hole.
“Fuck yeah he did,” Jeff said, laughing, “in the back of my Jeep, and he got a second marker to call in on my ass.” “How’d he get off?” I asked. Surely Jeff had gotten him off.
“After I fucked him I gave him probably the best blowjob I’ve ever given anybody, not that that’s saying it was all that great, but he blew his load in my mouth.” “Nice. You swallow?” I asked, chuckling.
“Every chance I get,” Jeff assured me, winking at me.
“What makes you think Mitchell would want to fool around with a guy nearly twice his age?” I asked, resigned to my fate as a convicted pederast...if Mitchell would just let me into his under•age fuck•tunnel.
“Only this,” Jeff replied, “which is that one of the times I was gagging on his huge cock, he told me that he’d seen the way I’d been playing up to you  and that I didn’t stand a chance...so maybe, just maybe, he’s been thinking about doing you, too, Coach. Plus, I’m going to let him call in his markers on me, but tell him they can only be redeemed in a three•way with the two of us.”
“I don’t think you’ve been using your best efforts to pay off your debt,” I said. “I mean, I had to drag that fucker’s existence out of you...you’ve been trying to set up three•ways with Landen, with Dewey, even a straight hunk like Alex, but not Mitchell...”
“Hey, no fair, I didn’t even know Dewey was queer—” “Neither do I,” I interrupted. “I’m nailing that down in the morning,” Jeff said, “but I was giving priority to Landen because, No. 1, he’s a lead•pipe•cinch; No. 2, he’s a good fuck; and, No. 3, he’s my bud. And Alex is just a vibe, a good vibe, but I’m nailing him down tomorrow, too.”
“Jeff, I don’t want to fuck any of those guys,” I said after a minute, “not really.” “I know, Coach,” Jeff said, “I’m pretty sure I know exactly what you want, and I’m also pretty sure you haven’t figured out yet what that is.”
“You,” I said quietly. “I want you.” “Duh, Coach, I meant besides me,” Jeff noted. “And what is that?” I asked skeptically.
“Four or five queer•as•fuck 17 and 18•year•old jocks with rock•hard cocks pulling a train on you,” Jeff casually informed me.


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.

Cover art by Yves Saint Laurent (yes, the designer)