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The White Stud presents

The Transfer Jock (30) -- by Jack Richards

I did hear his loud, exciting explamations


🏈🏈🏈.

Jeff just HAD to get him invited to Coach’s house before the weekend ended, Dewey had been insisting when he’d blown his load about eight inches deep in the No. 1 tight•end, completing the back end of a locker•room flip•flop.

“No worries, bro,” Jeff assured him, “I’ve got a plan.”

🏈🏈🏈.

“Including Mitchell?” Dewey asked. Dewey had been the first to recognize Mitchell’s potential as (potentially) a horse•hung homo, but Jeff, who’d independently come to the same conclusion, had been the one to act on that hunch first and was, he thought, well on his way to sewing that ginger meat up, like all for himself - and for Coach, too, of course.

“Including Mitchell,” Jeff assured Dewey, “but you’re going to have to come up with some serious deliverables in return.”

“How about Alex?” Dewey asked. Alex was a sultry well•built guy with a killer ass who’d made Jeff’s gaydar Ping! a couple of times.

Jeff guffawed. “Don’t make me laugh, bro. Let’s see, Alex has what, a three•by•three stub of a cock? And Mitchell hard, dude? Have you ever seen Mitchell hard? No, of course not, because I’ve got a fucking monopoly on that shit. Ten inches, minimum. No, I’m gonna need Alex•plus. Plus you sharing some hot•as•fuck dude I’ve never seen before…you know, eventually…you can owe me that…but Alex’s stubby cock we might need this weekend…by the way, he’s 18, right? Not that it matters.”

“Unh unh, Alex, he’s 17,” Dewey replied.

“So you’re both 17?” Jeff asked. “I’d have sworn Alex was 18…”
“I’m 18, he’s 17,” Dewey said. “I got held back in 3rd grade, that’s why I’m a junior. Alex has a late birthday, that’s why he’s a senior but still 17.”

“Boy, I really fucked that up,” Jeff said, laughing. “Mitchell’s 17, right?”

“Mitchell? Naw, almost positive that dude’s just 16,” Dewey replied, “unless he just had a birthday.”

“Oh fuck,” Jeff groaned. “Well, whatever you do, don’t tell Coach he’s been fucking a 16•year•old…” It really wasn’t fair for a 16•year•old to have that big a dick, Jeff thought, and he was never one to envy another guy’s junk, mostly because he knew he had plenty. Fuck, what if Coach had already found out that Mitchell was only 16?? He should’ve never left those two alone. Coach was a tougher read than his peers, that was for sure, but when it came to Mitchell, Jeff thought Coach might be animated by more than just lust…not love, not like him and Coach, but something more than lust. But if Coach found out that Mitchell was only 16…fuck…he’d have to talk to Mitchell about getting a fake I.D., and soon…

If anyone had been watching in the parking lot as dusk fell, but of course no one was, they’d have seen the two high school jocks continue talking for a few more minutes…and then see the tall, lanky transfer•jock envelope the somewhat shorter milk•chocolate stud•muffin of a cornerback in his strong arms and bend down slightly to plant his mouth firmly on his team•mate’s, and if anyone had been watching they’d have seen that passionate kiss stretch on and on, until finally one of the transfer•jock’s hands dropped and quickly found the bulge in his friend’s pants, and then begin rubbing and squeezing that growing bulge…

🏈🏈🏈.

When Jeff breezed through my front door (negligently left unlocked) close to an hour later than we’d expected, I didn’t see him…because I was bent over the back of my sofa, facing away from the door, with my shorts bunched up around my ankles. He wouldn’t have been able to see my ass, though, not really, because Mitchell was standing between Jeff and my ass, also facing away from the door, fucking me hammer•and•tongs with the biggest dick in the locker•room.

What Jeff would have seen was Mitchell’s milky•white glutes working overtime, forcefully driving all that cock to its full depth over and over again….Jeff’s imagination would have to supply both the cock and the purpose for which it was being driven…all his eyes could show him from his vantage point directly behind Mitchell was that hard•working milky•white ass in rapid, repetitive motion, the occasional glimpse of ginger scruff in the cleavage of that ass and, between his legs, Mitchell’s big free•swinging balls slapping rhythmically against flesh.

And since I didn’t see Jeff let himself in, although I did hear his loud, excited exclamation over the sight he was beholding right in front of him, I damn sure didn’t see Dewey, who (I was later told) came in behind Jeff. Nor did I hear Dewey, who didn’t say a word as he gawked in wonder at the ass•fucking in progress and (I was later told) had been shushed by Jeff. Since Jeff had agreed that we weren’t ready for four guys and that Mitchell provided more than enough extra dick for the two of us, and since I had nevertheless instructed Jeff NOT to bring Dewey back to my house with him, I sure as hell wasn’t thinking that Dewey was probably standing there with Jeff watching their team manager fuck their coach into near•oblivion.

“I’ve got dibs!” Jeff had shouted, and I’d said something inanely stupid along the lines of, “The more the merrier,” which (I was later told) had instantly started the wheels turning in Jeff’s devilish mind, such that he was on his knees behind Mitchell and me in no time flat, pulling Dewey’s pants down and sucking his big milk•chocolate cock until it was more than hard enough (again) to fuck…somebody.

Jeff did not presume to invite Dewey to bareback his coach, however, and so as Mitchell was getting oh•so•close to making a huge deposit in my personal sperm bank, Jeff was (I was later told) hurriedly rolling a condom down what would have been widely acknowledged as the second largest cock in our locker•room IF ONLY high school jocks routinely paraded around the locker•room and showered with raging erections, which, alas, they do not. Since the guys in our locker•room don’t show wood when they’re showering, flaccid Jeff edged out flaccid Dewey as having the second largest cock in the locker•room.

I’ve also since been assured that despite his fresh ready•to•fuck boner, convincing Dewey that butt•fucking his coach by surprise would not only be acceptable but also funny, even hilarious, and that it took an inordinate amount of (quiet) persuasion by Jeff to convince Dewey to step in behind Mitchell and immediately fill the temporarily gaping hole left by his withdrawal, an absence•of•cock that I then believed was about to be filled and (for not very long) thought WAS being filled by my favorite tight•end…who had not filled my empty spaces since sometime before daylight…

…but who was instead hiding behind the sofa laughing his ass off while ‘Student•Athlete 3’ (as Dewey would invariably be identified in my inevitable subsequent indictment) ‘anally penetrated his lascivious and depraved head football coach, who encouraged and commanded Student•Athlete 3’s moral degradation by shouting vile incitements to him such as ‘Oh fuck yes…fuck me with your [huge student penis]…’

While I’m no lawyer, even I understood that denying emphatically that at the moment in question (or ever) I had uttered the words ‘fuck me with your huge student penis,’ after reluctantly admitting that I had, in fact, said rather loudly (but not shouted) ‘Oh fuck yes…fuck me with your big dick,’ or words to that effect, would not be an especially compelling defense.


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 Anonymous


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