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The Transfer Jock (18) -- by Jack Richards

Jack was still sleeping


I had led Jeff, dripping wet, from the hot tub into the living room, with the intention that, if he should happen to fuck Dewey on my living room floor the next day, Dewey wouldn’t be the first teenager to get fucked, and well, on that floor.


I woke up early the next morning, not long before first light. Jeff was still sleeping as I lay with my head on his chest, listening to the birds chirping the dawn into being. I shifted in the bed and reached eath the sheet, my fingers skimming his hard flat belly and tangled pubic hair, finding his sleeping, shriveled (for Jeff) cock. I only had the sense that he had fucked me all night long, but in fact we had slept some. I had fucked him for like forever on the living room floor, our bodies rising and falling, our hungry mouths and tongues coming together and separating, over and over again, repeatedly pulling back from the brink of orgasm before finally surrendering explosively.
Almost immediately afterwards, Jeff had returned the favor, not for quite as long, but even more emphatically. He’d wanted me again soon after, and had led me back to the bedroom where he’d fucked me senseless before he’d finally climaxed, apologizing sheepishly for having taken so long to nut. “Fucking slacker,” I’d laughed, “that was just your fifth time to get off.” We’d both slept then, maybe for an hour or two, before he’d awakened me with a throbbing erection demanding entry one more time.
I honestly couldn’t remember if Jeff had gotten off again that last time or not, as my hand closed softly, almost imperceptibly, around his magnificent (though spent and shrunken) penis. I pulled the sheet back and gently gobbled up Jeff’s cute (relatively) little dick, taking care not wake him yet.
It’s probably not such an uncommon thing, but it had never occurred to me to wake a sleeping lover with a blowjob until my favorite fraternity brother’s identical twin had delightfully awakened me in such a manner one morning during a debauched week•long fuck•fest in the French Quarter that my buddy and his twin had organized around New Year’s my senior year at Tulane. There were maybe ten other guys who had pledged along with us to fuck, and be fucked by, everyone in the house over the course of that week.
My buddy’s twin bro and I had flipped each other late one night and fallen asleep together in whatever bed we’d been fucking in - it wasn’t either of ours - and I woke up early the next morning with the brother sucking the chrome off my trailer hitch. After I blew my load and he swallowed it all, he’d told me something that had made a lasting impression on me.
“Sorry, bro,” the guy had said with a shit•eating grin, “bad habit of mine. Granted, times are plenty flush right now, but they aren’t always, and I’ve had more than my share of dog days when I didn’t know when I’d get to suck another cock again or who’s it was going to be...so I make it a fucking religious practice that whenever I wake up in the morning with a hot guy in my bed after a hot night together, I blow that guy so that just before I blow him I do know where my next cock’s coming from and who it belongs to. Sometimes, you know, those guys leave and you never see them again.”
“All too often,” I had replied, and we’d laughed together. “Look, I know you’ve probably got a bunch of other guys on your list you need to be fucking, and we’ve already checked each other off, but if you’d like to stick  that boner you’re sporting up my ass...I’d be honored...and happy...I mean, in a way, your boner’s my fault, so...” The best I could remember from that last drunken fuck of the night before is that this guy, who I couldn’t tell apart from my frat bro, had fucked exactly like his twin, which is to say as well I’d had at the time.
“Neil,” my friend’s twin said, laughing, “this boner’s ALL your fault, and I’d love to bury it in your sweet peach of an ass...a long, slow, leisurely morning fuck, if that suits you.” “Grrr,” I’d growled. I can’t recall that hot fucker’s name, Jack’s twin, but he could fucking roll, and he was responsible for me adopting the  solemn fucking religious practice of never letting a hot guy get out of my bed in the morning until after he’s been properly blown. After all, you never know how long it might be before you get to suck your next cock.
The other great thing about blowing a guy awake is that you get to feel his soft sleeping cock stiffen in your mouth. Jeff’s dick performed that trick as expected, rapidly swelling to full•blown hard•on in short order. He was awake by then, but I’d ensured that he woke up happy. “One or both of us might wish later that I had just one more load in me,” Jeff said, after a few more few minutes of my aggressive cock•sucking, “and that’s not going to be an option in about another minute.”
“What do you think?” I asked him. “Stop or go? I’ve already had my fun.”
“Let’s save it, then, just in case,” Jeff replied. “I have a feeling we’re going to have an even busier day than yesterday. I’ve got a new plan for hooking up with Dewey, or getting my ass kicked by him if he’s not a homo, but I’m going to need your office key and for you to be scarce when he walks out of the shower. I’ll try to shower right next to him, just because, but either way I’ll make sure I’m out first, and I’ll be waiting for him at his locker, wearing just my towel. Then I’ll tell Dewey that Coach told me to grab him as soon as he got out of the shower and for the two us to wait for him in his office. I let me and Dewey in with your key, come onto him - I’m not sure yet exactly what I’ll say to him, but it’ll work. You walk in on us 5 minutes later and catch me with Dewey’s cock in my mouth. You join in.”
“You’re pretty confident you’ll be blowing a kid you don’t even know is queer within 5 minutes,” I observed wryly, “even though you don’t yet know what you’re going to say to him to make him drop his towel and stick his dick in your mouth.”
“Exactly,” Jeff confirmed. “Coach, if I’m still in there after 5 minutes it’ll be because his dick is in my mouth. If he punches me, which isn’t going to happen, I’ll get the fuck out of there well before 5 minutes are up.” If nothing else, I had to admire Jeff’s balls. In fact, I was admiring Jeff’s balls at that very moment.
“Solid plan,” I said, “up to a point. I’ll give you the key so you can have a private place to ask him if you can suck his dick - at some other location -  or whatever you decide to say to him, but you can’t blow Dewey in my ofiice and I’m not barging I’m on you guys. I’m not going to set a trap for a student. If Dewey is into you, and I think he is, and you guys want a safe place to play, you can bring him back here between practices and do whatever you both agree to do.”
“And you’ll join us here?” Jeff asked eagerly.
I hesitated, realizing I could still do the ‘right’ thing by fucking only one of my student•athletes for five days and nights. On the other hand, just because I might agree to one (brief) three•way involving one other player, did not necessarily mean I was going to let Jeff parade a bunch of studs  through my house for sex with the coach all weekend. “I’ll join you here IF Dewey wants it that way, without any arm•twisting or deception. If he’s cool, text me.”
“It’d be better if you walked in and Dewey was banging me on the living room floor,” Jeff countered, “anybody would expect you to jump all over that.”


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 Joe Phillips


  1. Replies
    1. Brace yourself. There are 100 more installments in the pipeline!

  2. Great story, reminds me of my college days, really finding out about sex.


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