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The Transfer Jock (53) -- By Jack Richards

They emerged wet, happy and hungry.

 

  🏈🏈🏈.

(Previously:)

As he lay on the CF fuck•platform recovering from having just been fucked to the edge of oblivion, Jeff could hear 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?” “Jeff 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…”

🏈🏈🏈.

After a few minutes of horsing around with Mitchell and Dewey in the pool, Jeff and Max emerged wet, happy and hungry. When Jeff turned to toss Max a towel, a ‘small’ but astonishing thing occurred: Jeff saw Max’s beautiful beer•can•cock flaccid for (almost) the first time and he fell in love with that dick for the second time that day. When he’d seen Max’s dick for the very first time, right after the he•devil had fucked Coach into a quivering mass on the shower•room floor and Max had turned to face the three upperclassmen who’d been watching him ride Coach’s cock, his 16•year•old cock had been rock•hard.
The only time between that moment and the present one dripping by the pool that Jeff had seen Max’s dick not fully aroused (or nearly so) had been when Max had stood over Jeff with Finn and Mitchell pissing on him, and then right afterwards when Jeff had pissed on Max, but Max had gotten so hard again so quickly that Jeff had almost forgotten that Max had once been naked in his presence without an erection. Perhaps Max’s boner had completely subsided after he’d auto•nutted and before he boned up again, but if it had Jeff had missed that fleeting moment in the dark. Whether or not Max required an even shorter refractory period than Jeff had yet to be established, but Jeff was already pretty sure that his protege stayed hard longer, at least when they were just hanging out naked.
“Hey Max, how did you manage to hide the most beautiful dick I’ve ever seen from me through almost four weeks of showering and shit in the locker•room?” Jeff asked. “Especially since I spent the first week sleuthing out as much new dick as I could.”
Max laughed out loud, and then kissed Jeff, grabbing his mentor’s fat temporarily soft cock. “I really can’t get enough of you, you know? And you’re fucking me next with my favorite•est cock ever.” Max’s dick was already re•inflating. “There are probably a lot of reasons you missed seeing me until today, and pure chance is probably a big part of it…and your chances were limited by a bunch of things…the unwritten rule that seniors, or at least upperclassmen, shower first, sophomore varsity and JV last…we scrubs’ lockers are in Siberia, out of sight from the really big dicks…and while a lot of guys don’t grab a towel until they come out of the shower, I always grab mine before I undress and I always wear it going back and forth—”
“So you really are shy?” Jeff asked. He didn’t believe that for a second.
“Fuck no I’m not shy,” Max replied, laughing, “the towel’s just for boner protection. Dude, the first time, and one of the few times, that I ever saw you completely naked I was walking by your locker, towel on, and I looked your way and saw your big, fat watermelonπŸ‰dick, and nearly fucking melted. Except for my dick, which did the opposite. I started getting hard on the spot…did a u•turn and was fully bonerized before I could get into a bathroom stall to whack off. Which I did.”
“Dude, if you’d accidentally dropped that towel, you’d have found out just how fucking queer I am a whole lot sooner. Like I’d have gotten my locker transferred to Siberia right next to yours and I’d have been camping out in your junk.” They were both still laughing at the preposterous notion of a senior sharing locker space with sophomores and the JV, when they walked into the house in search of pizza. “Tell the truth, bro…that day I accidentally bonerized you, were you cruising my aisle to check out my wiener?”
“Possibly,” Max replied slyly.
“Whoa, fuck,” Jeff said to Max, obviously not meaning ‘Stop,’ but more like ‘Check this shit out,’ because he walked right up to where Finn was reaming the fuck out of Coach, who was on all fours on the living room floor, the big strapping first baseman on his knees behind the football coach, his balls slapping rapidly against Coach’s ass. “I gotta say,” Jeff said to Finn, “this wasn’t exactly the vile and unspeakable shit I was expecting to see in here.” Judging by how red both of those fuckers’ faces were, and how much sweat was pouring off of them, it appeared that they’d been fucking for a nice little while. “Coach, I didn’t know you needed to lose your ass•cherry, too.” Coach was too busy panting like a dog to answer.
Finn laughed and winked at Jeff, never slowing the hammer•blows he was delivering, no doubt as instructed. Then he suddenly winced and came to an abrupt stop, exhaling rapidly in short bursts…huff…huff…huff… Both Max and Jeff could imagine Finn clenching his cock as he fought to subdue a rising orgasm. After about 20 seconds of breathing much like a woman in birth•labor, Finn visibly relaxed and slowly withdrew about two•thirds of his thick cock from Coach’s firm, muscular ass. “Whew!” he sighed. The ‘crisis’ temporarily averted, Finn’s breath returned to the normal heavy breathing one would expect during a vigorous ass•fucking, and then slowed as Finn caught his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow.
“So THAT’S how you arrest an unwanted orgasm,” Max laughed, needling Jeff in fun.
“Well at least I got inside you before I nutted,” Jeff replied, laughing with him. “Hey, I’ve got a great idea, let’s grab our pizza and eat while we watch Finn finish fucking Coach. Do you butt•fuckers want anything from the kitchen?”
Finn was already starting to wiggle his boner a little bit. “Better hurry,” he advised. “Despite my amazing skill, this can’t last much longer.”
“Whiskey,” Coach croaked, “coffee table.” Max got Coach’s glass and held it for him while he took a big gulp. “Thanks, Max, you’re a good boy, I don’t care what Jeff says about you.”
“Hey Finn, I’ve got a great idea for you too,” Jeff said on his way to the kitchen, “Don’t fuck so hard.”
“Ignore that imbecile, Finn,” Coach demanded, “and fuck me just like I told you to.” When Jeff returned from the kitchen with pizza for two, Finn was slow•boning Coach, much like Mitchell had been giving it to Dewey during the maybe 10 seconds that Jeff had watched them fucking. Dewey, who also fucked hard, was probably even then pounding Mitchell on Coach’s new Corbin Fisher pool•side fuck•platform. While they’d all been in the pool, Mitchell had asked Jeff if he minded if they tried out the CF fuck•platform, and Jeff had told them to knock themselves out, that there was plenty of room for all of them…but that it was possible he might accidentally fuck Mitchell’s date.
Max was fully hard when Jeff sat down cross•legged next to him just a few feet from the ass•fucking in progress. Jeff handed Max a slice and then used his free hand to give Max a few strokes and play with his foreskin. “Fuck me like that,” Max whispered to him.
“I’m going to,” Jeff said, grinning. “I’m awesome at that.”
“You know, fuck me like that, some,” Max added, “and then fuck me like Finn was fucking Coach when we came in.”
“I’m going to,” Jeff replied, grinning even more broadly. “I’m awesome at that, too.” He was as hard as Max by then, and Finn was starting to pick up a head of steam, though still pulling out most of his large pink penis before slamming it back into Coach, faster and faster. “You want to see the finale?” Jeff asked, himself ready to be doing exactly what the other transfer•jock was doing.
“Nah, I know how this ends,” Max said, jumping up and extending his hand to Jeff. “Happily.”
Jeff and Max grabbed a couple of beers and then made a bee•line for Coach’s new Corbin Fisher pool•side fuck•platform where, as they had expected, Dewey was pounding the fuck out of Mitchell‘s tight pink hole, to Mitchell’s obvious delight. Jeff and Max barely noticed, vaguely registering only that, ‘Oh yeah, those guys are butt•fucking over there,’ before they dove onto the surprisingly stable and well•padded platform, and Jeff made a much shorter bee•line for Max’s medium•tight nut•brown hole. Jeff’s tongue was in Max’s crack almost before Max’s legs had been pulled back to his chest, but that was to be but a brief oral visit, not the full•meal deal. Very soon thereafter Jeff was kneeling between Max’s legs and gently but quickly lubing Max’s puckered but pliable nut•brown hole (as well as his own throbbing cock). Max took Jeff’s thick boner in his hand, saying softly, “Let me,” and guided Jeff’s cock to the threshold of his nut•brown hole, though it is doubtful that Jeff’s heat•seeking missile required any external guidance.
Jeff pushed the flared head of his cock through Max’s medium•tight sphincter while looking into Max’s eyes, their faces only inches apart, and then pushed hard, but not too hard, as his mouth locked onto Max’s and he began to fill Max up entirely, losing himself in the process. While Jeff had nutted twice inside Max already, the special beauty (or irony) of his present position was that his two prior (or to Jeff’s way of thinking, his two ‘preliminary’) orgasms had come with virtually no physical exertion. He’d hardly had to move on either occasion, the first time due to his arguable (but completely understandable) prematurity, and the second due to Max doing essentially all of the work. Consequently, he still felt fresh and strong (not to mention relaxed) and in no danger of coming before he’d exhausted both himself and Max.
For the first time, really, they joined together more than just cocks and assholes, but their entire bodies, rising and falling together over and over again in near•perfect harmony, and so Jeff had lost himself in Max and Max had lost himself in Jeff as they fucked, like, forever (or so it must have seemed to them, given their previous coital history together), until Jeff had simply known that it was time for an ending, and so had finally allowed himself to climax, likely with Max’s unspoken assent, with an orgasm commensurate with the fucking that preceded it.
Had anyone been watching them fuck - the stamina of the top, the athleticism of the bottom, the hunger and loving ferocity of them both, the variations in their dance, simply the passage of so much time between penetration and completion - they might not have believed what they were witnessing, nor is it likely they could have watched that impassioned fucking for very long without themselves being consumed in their own rekindled blaze.
We know all that because Mitchell and Dewey did watch at least some of that fucking, their watching beginning shortly after Dewey had blown his load in Mitchell and continuing through Mitchell’s penetration of Dewey for the second time that night. Granted, Mitchell and Dewey didn’t watch their friends much, if at all, while they were themselves fully re•engaged, but when Mitchell had blown his second load of the night inside Dewey their friends were still fucking energetically, albeit in a different position and a different location than those in which they’d last been observed.🏈



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


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