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The Transfer Jock (47) -- By Jack Richards

"Does anybody need to take a leak before we get out of here?"


“Hey, guys,” Jeff asked his three companions from where he sat on the shower•room floor, “does anybody need to take a leak before we get out of here?”
“It’s a thing, perfectly harmless,” Mitchell explained to the other two. “Jeff likes to be pissed on sometimes by guys he really likes. He wouldn’t ask if he didn’t really like us, and it makes him very happy.”
“Fuck, Jeff,” Max said, laughing, “I’ll piss on you anytime if that’ll make you happy. You can even piss on me, once anyway, if you want to. I’ll try any•fucking•thing once.”
“Why the fuck not,” Finn said, also laughing, “I’ve got to whiz anyway.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Mitchell added, “and there’s no better place for it.” Three well•hung studs crowded around the fourth well•hung stud and, whooping and laughing, hosed him down like he’d never been hosed down before, with torrents of jock•piss. Two of the three watched in mild astonishment (not Mitchell, who’d seen it before) as their gleeful, soaked friend’s fat cock filled with blood and flopped over, semi•erect.
“Now me,” Max insisted as he lay down flat on the floor. Jeff scrambled up and stood over his new protege, initially having to will his urine to flow through his semi•aroused cock, but once his stream started to flow he pissed like a horse all over that hot•as•fuck sophomore, concentrating especially on his stiffening beer•can•cock, but not neglecting his upturned face. Unlike his mentor, Max kept his mouth tightly closed, at least at first, but then thinking, ‘What the fuck, if I’m gonna do this, I might as well go all in,’ he parted his lips and began to laugh. Jeff’s piss, he thought, tasted as much like Gatorade as anything else. What he really wanted to know, though, was what Jeff’s cum tasted like.
Mitchell and Finn duly noted both of their companions’ by•then rock•hard erections, and Finn remarked, “What the fuck, I’ll probably try that next time.” Jeff lent Max a hand and pulled him to his feet. Taking Max’s face in both hands, Jeff said, “You’ve got balls, bro. I like that,” and kissed him passionately, their erections throbbing together. “C’mon, let’s wash off and get out of here before we start fucking.”
“I’m cool with fucking, too” Max replied. He wanted Jeff right that minute, and he didn’t care which of them was inside the other.
“We will, if that’s what you want,” Jeff said as he lathered up, “as soon as we get to Coach’s, but I have a feeling that once we start we’re not going to stop…and Mitchell and I’ve promised Finn something special that really can’t wait. You can come with us, right? And spend the night? I’m sure Finn’s gonna spend the night, too, because he promised something to Mitchell. You can even fuck Alex for me in the morning if you want.” Fucking Max or Max fucking him as soon as they got to Coach’s was exactly what Jeff wanted. He didn’t care which because he already knew they were going to flip, at least once, and all night long if he had anything to say about it.
“Yes, yes and we’ll see about Alex,” Max replied, laughing. “God, yes, to the first two questions.” Max had had a crush on the transfer tight•end since he’d first seen him, on the first day of camp, before they’d even met. And who wouldn’t have, he was gorgeous. While the senior had never noticed him in any sexual way, Jeff had always been friendly and kind to him, unlike most of the upperclassmen. That was not nothing, nor were Jeff’s dimples, infectious smile, leadership, team spirit, grace on and off the football field, ass to die for and really big, fat cock, nothing. In fact, Jeff’s ass to die for and really big, fat cock were quite something, from Max’s point of view.
Max was as queer as he was masculine, and as queer as Max was, the first time he’d seen Jeff fully nude, full frontal, dripping wet by his locker, as Max was going to his with a towel around his waist, he’d had to turn around and go straight to a restroom stall to jack off, fully erect by the time he’d latched the door. He’d had no reason to believe that Jeff was a homo like himself, and he simply hadn’t believed Landen when he’d told him that Jeff was fucking him. Max had just figured that Landen, who was totally full of shit, had been verbalizing his fantasies about the transfer tight•end (matching Max’s own) while he, Landen, had been grinding his buttery ass on Max’s stiff cock, which had not sucked.
Earlier that week, though, Max had caught a bit more than a glimpse of Jeff grabbing Landen’s cock in the shower when they’d thought they were alone, and not just playfully grabbing a buddy’s dick like straight guys do all the time, but more like holding it, not long, but it hadn’t looked anything like a joke. That had made Max reconsider Landen’s bullshit stories, and when Coach had suddenly started spending so much more time at Jeff’s locker, with Jeff more and more obviously flaunting his big senior cock, and then dropping by Landen’s locker with the same result, and then Coach’s other out•of•the•ordinary drop•by’s coincidentally visiting every other guy on the team whom he’d thought might possibly be a homo, and Jeff and Dewey suddenly and pretty obviously falling in love with each other’s fat cocks in the middle of the fucking locker•room the day before, and Mitchell shuttling constantly between all of those guys and Coach, well, sure he’d finally put two and two together. Seeing Jeff grab Dewey’s junk in the parking lot the evening before and then drop to his knees and give Dewey a blow•job right there had only confirmed what he’d just figured out. He’d felt like a total fucking jerk while he’d hidden and watched the scene unfold after he’d accidentally stumbled across them kissing, and jacking out a huge load while he’d been spying on them had only made him feel worse after momentarily making him feel better.
When Coach had announced at morning meeting that day that he’d be reviewing film with Landen in his office for the next few minutes, and then asked Mitchell to set up the projector, Max had almost bitten off his tongue to keep from laughing out loud. As far as he was concerned, Coach might as well have announced that he was going to be butt•fucking the senior QB in his office. He’d also gotten hard, wishing Coach were going to be ‘reviewing film’ with him. Still, Max had gotten to lead the first team offense for an unexpected 15 minutes, which was not nothing.
Jeff and Landen had separately and unwittingly taught him how to catch and hold Coach’s eye after it had finally dawned on him that Coach was not only queer but was bound to be fucking one or more of his players, or trying to, so when the opportunity had presented itself that afternoon, he’d taken his chance, which, as he’d told Jeff, had been a fuck•load safer play for him than coming on to Jeff would have been. Not that Max had been lying to Coach at all or had been faking any of the sizzling passion between him and Coach, because he hadn’t been. He’d always thought Coach was hot•as•fuck, he’d just never thought he might be queer, let alone a hot•as•fuck homo who was potentially available to him. That flaming passion had been very real, and he’d gladly welcome any more coach•cock he could get - but that intensity paled in comparison to what he fess feeling toward the senior tight•end. But he would’ve been lying if he’d said he hadn’t considered at least the possibility that fucking his way into Coach’s ‘queer network’ might somehow get him into the back of Jeff’s Jeep, where he’d supposedly fucked Landen a couple of times, and Max even allowed that some of the passion that had come pouring from him and swept Coach away had even then been fueled (in part) by his fantasies of the transfer tight•end.
Max and Jeff caught up with Finn and Mitchell sorting clothes and shoes at the field•house door. Max was still hard as nails, and they (not Jeff) teased him good•naturedly about his persistent boner while they dressed. Max didn’t care, he was just glad they had noticed his dick. Outside, Finn, who’d jogged to the school that afternoon, said he needed a lift, and Jeff offered to take him, saying there was something he wanted to talk to him about anyway. Mitchell suggested that Max ride with him if he didn’t mind leaving his car overnight at the school, “so Coach’s driveway doesn’t look like the fucking student parking lot.”
Max shot a quick glance at Jeff, who understood…something…from that hurried look. Jeff pulled Max close to him, made sure his bulging semi was pressed hard against Max’s throbbing cock, took Max’s face in both hands again in that incredibly intimate way he’d done a few minutes before (after Max had pissed on him) and, looking directly into Max’s blue eyes, announced to the group, “Guys, Max and I have some serious unfinished business. Hands off for now, OK?” Max loved the way Jeff seemed to say whatever was on his mind without the least embarrassment, especially when what Jeff had to say concerned him.
“Duh,” Mitchell said, laughing, “like we could separate you two fuckers with a fucking crowbar.”
“Better?” Jeff mouthed silently to Max, who was already smiling again. Max nodded. He was fine and didn’t give a shit who rode with whom, except he knew he and Jeff had made a connection, and he didn’t want to be separated from him. If he couldn’t be in the back of Jeff’s Jeep, riding with Mitchell would be fine. Max also knew that he needed to nod and play it cool and not act like a fucking little girl. Riding in separate cars was less than nothing. He nodded, he was cool.
“Good. Quick question,” he said quietly as he slowly walked Max over to Mitchell’s car, reluctant to let him go. “You seem to recharge as fast, maybe even faster than I do…the first night I spent with Coach, we fucked all night, off and on, and over maybe 10 or 12 hours, I nutted like six times and I could’ve gotten off at least once more early the next morning. Do you think you could do something like that with me? Taking turns topping? Would you even want to do that? Because you can have any or all of these other guys, including Coach, if you’d rather play the field.”
“Somebody else can fuck the field,” Max replied without hesitation, “I want to fuck you, and, yeah, I think I can hang with you. At least, one night I jacked off six times.” They both laughed. Max had thought he was going to auto•nut in his shorts at the suggestion, and that’s the most it had been, that Jeff might fuck him six times over the coming night…and wanted Max to do the same to him.
“Get a fucking room!” Finn yelled from behind them.
“Yeah, I’m not trying to keep score or anything like that,” Jeff said, ignoring Finn. “That probably sounded pretty shitty. What I really meant and should have said, Max, is that I want all of you that I can get, and I want to give you all of me you can stand. And I’m not sure one night of solid fucking is going to be nearly enough.”
“Pretty sure it’s not gonna be, Jeff,” Max replied, squeezing the senior’s fresh new boner, “so we’d better get started. Let’s get the fuck out of here so we can. See you in a few.” Max probably could’ve said ‘I love you’ to Jeff then and been telling the truth, words he’d never even thought of saying to another guy before, but he knew it would’ve sounded queer as fuck.🏈

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 Rick Chris


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