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The White Stud presents

The Transfer Jock (52) -- By Jack Richards

There has been a little hiatus interrupting this feuilleton, due to LustSpiel's relocation to Portugal. But now we are back with the 52nd installment of the never-ending, cum-dripping locker-room soap from the able hands of Jack Richards: 


Max wasn't completely new to rimming.



“C’mon, Max, making a decision isn’t nearly as hard as your dick,” Jeff had pleaded. “Just tell me what you want to do.”
“I want you to fuck me like a wild beast with your big, fat watermelon๐Ÿ‰dick,” Max said at last, “but rim me first…and if you’d rather that I play the beast, I’ll ride your cock like I rode Coach’s, like I promised I’d do when you made me your protege.”
“That,” Jeff said decisively - and Max had rolled over eagerly, presenting his lean, hairy ass to to his mentor, with Dewey and Mitchell watching from across the pool.

Max wasn’t completely new to rimming, but his experience in that category of things that well•rounded homos did with each other was much more limited than in most of the other categories he’d tried. Rimming just wasn’t something that most high school guys knew or cared about. Even Landen, who was as in touch with his own asshole as anyone Max knew, had been completely disinterested in rimming, presumably because Max couldn’t lick Landen’s asshole and drive his cock through it at the same time - not that Max had particularly wanted to rim Landen. He had offered, though, before he’d quit fucking Landen.
Almost all of Max’s experience with rimming had been with his two older half•brothers, hunky identical twins, who had brought that new trick home with them from college last Christmas break. The twins had also been the ones who’d first taught him how to suck cock and then how to fuck, first as a bottom and then as a top, though they had not provided him with his first, mostly masturbatory, homosexual experiences. Nor had his older half•brothers sought him out as their personal cock•socket, to Max’s adolescent chagrin. Instead, Max had had to seek out their cocks and demand that his brothers use them to fill his empty sockets.
Max had known that he was queer to his core since at least puberty, which had come relatively early to him, at age 12, and he’d been jacking off his buddies (and vice•versa) almost since he’d started masturbating alone. By 13, he’d figured out that his stud 16•year•old half•brothers were queer•as•fuck and doing together some of the more advanced shit that he was keenly interested in trying, but which was still a bridge too far for his youthful j/o buds. He’d looked for his opportunity and then, just shy of his 14th birthday, Max had ‘caught’ the twins, then 17, giving each other head late one night when he’d picked the simple household lock on their bedroom door and burst in on them wearing only a (bulging) towel around his waist, demanding that he be allowed to participate.
Max had always been a big kid for his age, and he was already as tall as the twins, though not as heavy, which is simply to say that he didn’t look much different to the twins from their other 16 and 17•year•old sex partners. Until he’d dropped that towel. Then he’d looked different. Max’s cock, which was considerably bigger than the twins’ own ample and nearly identical units (and those of their other 16 and 17•year•old sex partners), had been the decisive factor in their decision to take turns sucking their kid brother’s huge cock until he’d ejaculated spectacularly all over their happy, smiling faces, and then under their careful tutelage, he’d given his first two blow•jobs to the twins.
That cum•drenched night had not been a stand•alone event in the brothers’ evolving relationship; rather almost every night (and many of the afternoons that Max didn’t have football practice) that followed for several months played out along similar lines with similar results, with the exceptions that (1) Max was an eagerly welcomed participant, no longer required to break•in and demand his share, and (2) often on weekends one or another of the twins’ queer friends would spend the night and exchange blowjobs with the well•hung kid brother as well as with the twins.
Within a few months of Max’s first blowjob the twins had started fucking each other, too, although that fact had not been disclosed to Max. When the older brothers fucked, they would usually flip after Max had left their room and gone to sleep, or sometimes one would fuck the other in the shower in the morning before school. The twins excluded Max from the extra benefits they were enjoying only because of his tender age, and not because they didn’t want to fuck Max in his already fine, lean and increasingly hairy ass. One twin in particular looked forward to fucking that ass at the appropriate time; the other often fantasized that it was Max’s horse•dick plowing him while he was getting plowed by his twin.
Max eventually found out what was going on behind his back one morning when he’d urgently had to take a dump and the twins had forgotten to lock the bathroom door before showering together. Max had assumed that only one of the twins was in the shower and the other was either still in bed or had already gone downstairs, until he’d realized that the sounds he heard coming from the shower while he sat on the toilet were caused by more than just running water. He’d yanked the shower curtain back and watched (to the twins’ horror) one of his older brothers driving his cock into his other older brother’s asshole; so very close to orgasm, that morning’s top had made the reasonable decision to get in three more rapid thrusts and blow his load in his twin’s ass, despite Max’s intrusion, rather than stop fucking his brother and blow his load in his hand.
Max was incredibly aroused by that scene, and then incredibly hurt that he’d been left out, and finally had gotten angry for having been left out, all in the span of a couple of minutes. At the time, the twins had only gotten angry, but a difference of opinion soon developed between the two older brothers as to how long, exactly, they ought to wait before they fucked a ‘little’ brother who by then was both taller and heavier than they were, and who had a killer cock bigger than either of theirs, which Max was no longer allowing them to suck since they wouldn’t introduce him to brother•fucking.
The twin who strongly preferred the role of bottom probably would have let Max fuck him in the shower by the next morning; the twin who strongly preferred the top role was initially adamant that they shouldn’t fuck their younger half•brother before he turned 15, an arbitrary date then several months away. When the twins’ sleepover friends learned that sleepovers no longer included access to the well•hung little brother, some of them began to trade blowjobs directly with Max, without going through his ‘prudish’ older brothers.
The twins knew it was just a matter of time, and likely not very much time, before those ‘friends’ were fucking and getting fucked by Max, and they were left with no one to fuck but themselves, a point repeatedly driven home to them by their fiery little brother, who had begun to respond to everything either twin said to him (outside the presence of their parents) with ‘Go fuck yourselves,’ and when the twins had stopped addressing Max at all, given the sheer futility of it, Max had begun greeting them with ‘Go fuck yourselves.’
Something plainly had to give, and it became clear to the twins that the only something that was going to give was going to be them. And give they did, at last welcoming their little brother into their bed(s), with the strange proviso that they would fuck Max in the ass, pretty much whenever he wanted, but they wouldn’t let him top them until he was 15, another arbitrary decision likely originating with the top•twin. Those circumstances persisted for almost an entire week before Max was secretly topping the bottom•twin on the side, usually in the shower or in Max’s bed. When the top•twin discovered that he was being cuckolded, he got with the program and bent•over for Max the first time a few months before Max’s 15th birthday.
The three brothers had quickly restored fraternal harmony on the second floor of the family home, which was thereafter awash in semen as Max’s education proceeded apace. Max loved (and still loves) his half•brothers, and he learned a lot from them, but he wasn’t the only one learning. Two of the things the twins had learned about their little bro was that Max was a fuck•ton more stubborn than they’d already known he was, and, fortunately for the top•twin, that Max didn’t hold grudges over the exercise of poor judgment by teen•agers. A third thing the twins gradually came to understand sometime after Max had learned the basic ins•and•outs of ass•fucking, was that their kid brother, who was also developing into a very fine middle•school quarterback, had somehow become the undisputed alpha on the second floor of the family home.
Besides rimming and being rimmed by his half•brothers, Max’s only other rimming experience had been Coach eating his ass that evening in the shower•room, and that had been an altogether different experience from anything he and the twins had ever even imagined. Basically, he and his brothers had licked each other’s cracks a few times and, finally, each other’s assholes, which had not sucked, but with Coach he’d had the sensation not quite of having been fucked by a tongue, but not that far from that, either, more like being teased an inch or so inside his asshole with a super•supple and super•wet dick…but really it was like nothing else he’d ever experienced.
When Jeff rimmed him by Coach’s pool later that same Friday night, it had very definitely been like something he had experienced before, in fact, very like what he’d experienced in the shower•room just a few hours earlier, and nothing like one of the twins diffidently licking his asshole for a minute or so. He wasn’t consciously comparing Coach and Jeff at the time - what he’d been thinking (without using the L•word) was that the hottest fucking guy he’d ever met was loving (he couldn’t think about Jeff’s tongue burrowing into and rotating in his anal canal without using the L•word) him in the most selfless and intimate way imaginable.
Had Max made such a comparison, later and dispassionately, he likely would have concluded that Coach had been more technically proficient, though not by that much, but that Jeff had carried the night on intangibles, by simply being who he was (and other factors related to the L•word). For his part, Jeff had thought about nothing other than consuming as much of Max as he possibly could, in whatever way he could. Had he been asked about those few minutes the next day, he might well have not initially remembered that he’d rimmed Max, and certainly not exquisitely, possibly he would have recalled only that in consuming Max he had been consumed by him.
“One thing about fucking like we’re about to fuck,” Max had observed while lovingly lubing Jeff’s rock•hard 18•year•old cock (and after finally removing his sweat•and•cum•soaked shirt), “is that neither one us can last very long, and you…OK, two things…and that you really have no control over what I promise you is going to be an incredible orgasm…you’re going to cum pretty quickly, and we’re both going to be glad you did. So don’t even try to resist it, just enjoy it.” Jeff reached up and touched Max’s face gently, really just brushing the backs of his fingers down Max’s cheek. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to.
“The other thing is that it’s going to make me rock•hard—” “You already are,” Jeff interrupted, laughing and grabbing Max’s boner.
“Busted,” Max agreed, also laughing. “But if I weren’t already, it would. I’m just saying that the reason I’m lubing your hole now - lift your legs a little - is that as soon as my ass has wrung out the last drop of cum from your big fat watermelon๐Ÿ‰dick, I’m climbing off of your cock and then back on top of you and fucking you as hard as I can with my beer•can•cock for not very long, either. And then we’re going to eat a slice of pizza to keep our strength up and settle into some long, very satisfying fucking. That, and I’m not waiting for you to make another fucking decision about anything, at least not tonight, because for such an รผber•alpha•beast, Jeff, you surprisingly suck at decision•making. Now, have you got anything to say that’s extremely important?”
“Kiss me, you fabulous he•devil,” Jeff replied, grinning lasciviously (his very good look), “before you fuck me to death.” After Max had hungrily complied with Jeff’s request and was positioning himself over Jeff, Jeff had lolled his head to the left and happened to see, across the pool - he couldn’t have missed it because they were under the lights - two guys fucking doggy•style on a pool•side lounge, in what seemed like slow•motion but wasn’t, the smaller pink•white guy on top of/behind the larger milk•chocolate guy, endlessly drawing out inch after inch of the biggest, pinkest cock he’d ever seen (in person), eight or nine inches fully outside that milk•chocolate ass before the process reversed itself until every inch of that huge pink cock was lost to sight, buried to its hilt in that sweet milk•chocolate ass…
Max followed his gaze and said quietly, “That’s beautiful…I love to get fucked like that, too.” ‘Noted,’ Jeff thought, and then the he•devil began the short, violent but equally beautiful process of pumping every ounce of semen out of his (Jeff’s) balls with his (Max’s) incredibly fine, athletic ass…that extraordinary extraction had taken about as long as the he•devil had led him to expect, which was not very, but he never thought it had ended too soon, only that he’d had the most intensely powerful orgasm he’d ever experienced in his young life, eclipsing what he’d felt when Coach had ridden him the same way on the locker•room bench…
…and then he’d been vaguely, blissfully aware of pulling his legs back for the entry of that astonishing, feral, tender he•devil and being slowly, gently filled and refilled to capacity, filled in a way that nearly silenced the longing for cock echoing in his bowels, before being absolutely hammered, wonderfully hammered, as had been promised by the he•devil, hammered to the edge of oblivion. After the he•devil had collapsed on top of him in a shouting, heaving, sweat•drenched heap of orgasmic bliss, Jeff had burrowed his nose into one of Max’s sweaty, masculine armpits and had understood for the first time precisely why Coach did the same thing to him after every time he and Coached fucked…although in his fog he couldn’t quite articulate that reason. All he could do was hug Max to himself as tightly as he could, and inhale him again.
Off to his left, he heard splashing and laughter in the pool, and then Dewey’s voice asking, “So what’s the over/under on those two?” and Mitchell’s voice answering, “Eleven.” “What’s your position?” “Over.” “Think they’ll make it?” “He gets stronger the more he fucks…and will keep waking you up all night long to keep fucking you more, with you being glad to be re•awakened each time…and from what I’ve seen so far I’d say Max is cut from the same fucking cloth…so I think we set the O/U way too low…unless they fuck themselves to death…”
“Grrr,” Jeff growled in Max’s ear, and pulled him to his feet, noting the flexed bulge of the backup QB’s right bicep. “Very quick pizza break, stud,” Jeff said in between hungry kisses, “and then I’m going to fuck you like you need to be fucked.”
But before that, Max and Jeff made cannonballs out of themselves in order to bombard Mitchell and Dewey, and then hurled themselves into the pool. They were still teenagers, after all, even if they did (sometimes) fuck like grown•ass men.๐Ÿˆ

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.