Featured Post

New in the gallery -- James Owen Mahoney (1907-1987)

The Transfer Jock (86) -- By Jack Richards

"I'd bet that Williams is secretly queer."

πŸ’¦πŸ’¦πŸ’¦.
“It’d be a shame to waste the killer boner you gave me,” Jeff said impishly to Max as he pulled Mitchell in closer by his mostly•subsided cock. Their three faces met, three mouths opened, and three tongues joined. “What time is it, anyway?” Jeff asked after a minute. The real question was where they were going to fuck, in the school locker•room, where they were then, or in Jeff’s fuck•nest at Coach’s house. Coach had told them he and Jay would be gone and his house would be available to them at 5:00 p.m.
“4:45,” Mitchell mumbled through Max’s tongue. “Perfect, we can head back to Coach’s now. If nobody has a better idea, I’m going to suck Max’s sweaty balls out of his jock and then lap up Mitchell’s delicious ginger crack in the shower, which I’ve been thinking about doing ever since I washed Max’s dried cum out of that sweet crack this morning. After those appetizers, I want to fuck my newest boyfriend like he deserves to be fucked - Max, you can fuck me while I do that if you want to, your call - and then let’s go get something to eat and drop my Mom’s car off, then go back to the fuck•nest and fuck each other until we’re too tired to fuck anymore. How’s that sound?” “Works for me,” Max agreed, grinning. “Sounds fucking great,” Mitchell assured his two new boyfriends
πŸ’¦πŸ’¦πŸ’¦.
When Jeff got back to his phone, which he’d left in the car while he and Max were practicing, he had group messages from Finn, Dewey and Alex, all expressing disappointment over the derailment of the Coach•Train, but also understanding, and two of them suggested the possibility of ‘smaller’ group hook•ups (i.e., without Coach, but tactfully without mentioning him) sometime in the future. He also had three solo messages from Landen. The first wasn’t too bad, not for Landen, but the aggression quickly escalated:
Landen: What the fuck? I was counting on banging Coach tonight. Since your plans got canceled too let’s get together later. My parents are at the lake til tomorrow so you can fuck me at my place.
When Jeff hadn’t answered him within half an hour, Landen came on a little stronger:
Landen: Dude, you fucking owe me. I could’ve been fucking Max (again) tonight but now he’s got other shit going on, so I’m screwed with nobody to screw...but you. Pay up.
Which was not only rude as shit, it was also a total fucking lie. Obviously, Landen couldn’t have been fucking Max (more like getting fucked by Max), because Max hated his fucking guts, nor could Landen have even texted Max, since Max had blocked his number for being a dick. Thirty minutes later Landen escalated his assault:
Landen: Look, bitch, it’s gonna be hard for you to a “star” tight•end if I don’t ever throw you the ball. You play ball with me tonight, I’ll play ball with you later. Otherwise...you might want to think about transferring again.
Jeff very nearly blasted Landen with an immediate response that would have, among other things, told him that he already knew Max had plans for the night because those plans were with him, and that he and Max would be fucking each other and laughing at Landen’s limp little dick all night. But he didn’t do that. Instead, he handed his phone to Mitchell. “I’ve got a big problem, bro, and so might Max,” Jeff admitted. “Everything I want to say to that mother•fucker would just be gasoline on Landen’s fire. Got any ideas?”
Mitchell quickly read the three messages and replied, “Not yet, but I will. I need to think about it...Something’s wrong with him.” “Duh, he’s fucking nuts” Jeff agreed, “and that’s not nearly all.” “No, I mean like he’s drunk or high or something,” Mitchell replied, “normal people don’t talk to their friends like this.” “You need to know the other part, about Max,” Jeff said. “Max is a very sore subject for Landen. And vice•versa.” Then Jeff told him about Landen and Max, hoping Max wouldn’t mind him telling Mitchell about his other boyfriend’s problem with Landen:
πŸ’¦πŸ’¦πŸ’¦.
“Then I made a stupid fucking mistake after practice today,” Max had told Jeff late Friday night. “He and I were in the last group of guys in the showers. I knew Coach was on towel duty, so for once I waited to get my towel until after I showered so Coach could see all of my cock he wanted to. Well, I was thinking about the play I was gonna make for Coach while I was showering, and not paying attention to what was going on around me. Which was that everyone else, except Landen, had left the showers. That fucker came up to me and grabbed my cock, hard, twisting it, and told me that if didn’t fuck him in his car in the parking lot just as fucking fast as I could get down there he was going to tell Coach that I was molesting the JV kids and get me kicked off the team.”
“Well, I happen to know that you were fucking Coach and not Landen right after practice,” Jeff said, smiling, “so what did you say to Landen to make him go away?”
“I grabbed him by his fucking throat and slammed him against the wall, hard,” Max replied, “which surprised the fuck out of him. Then I told him that I didn’t give a shit about any true thing he said about me to anybody, but that if he told so much as a half•lie to the school nurse, I was going to break his throwing arm in four places.” [#55]
πŸ’¦πŸ’¦πŸ’¦.
And to provide context for that encounter between Max and Landen, Jeff explained to Mitchell the part that Max would least like to have known, that he had been fucking Landen once or twice a week for a few weeks, more or less on command, whenever Landen had wanted Max’s beer•can•cock shoved repetitiously up his ass, until Max had gotten sick of it and broke it off about a week before. Landen had become so insistent and abusive in his text messages, demanding that Max start fucking him again, that Max had finally blocked his number.
“So those are the main outlines of the problem we’re dealing with,” Jeff summed up, feeling sick to his stomach. “Really, it could be a lot worse than all that. Landen’s already tried to extort both Max and me into fucking him...his reply to whatever I say to his texts could just as easily be a threat to blow the whistle on Coach fucking his student•athletes...everybody already knows Landen’s a fag•whore so he wouldn’t think twice about outing himself and the other ‘victims’ to blow•up Coach, just to get ‘even’ with me...I mean, we’re not just looking at my stats then, but maybe somebody we love going to jail...”
“Jesus Fucking Christ,” Mitchell exhaled. “OK, we’ll deal with Landen. For now, just drive us back to the fuck•nest because Max is already on his way.” Mitchell knew this was exactly the kind of problem he excelled at solving, though he’d certainly never been faced with one where the stakes were so high. He knew four things right away: He wasn’t going to let Jeff give in and go fuck the extortionist; He wasn’t going to let the extortionist tank Jeff’s senior season, and maybe the team’s season; He wasn’t going to let Landen retaliate against Max; and, for fuck’s sake, he wasn’t in a million years going to let Landen jeopardize Coach’s job and career.
And just helping Max take that asshole QB’s position wouldn’t be enough - because Landen might then try to blackmail Coach into keeping Max on the bench. “Jeff, this is a real fucking problem,” Mitchell said as they neared Coach’s house. “We might just have to kill him.” “That’s what I was thinking, too,” Jeff said. “Jeff, I was fucking kidding. But I’m going to need you to fuck the daylights out of me so I can think straight.” “You were getting that anyway,” Jeff laughed, “but afterwards I could just go over there and fuck Landen if I have to, not that big a deal.” “Not happening,” Mitchell declared as they pulled into the driveway behind Max’s car. “You are not fucking that creep, because if this works out for him, he’ll never let you go...and his demands will just go up...wait a fucking second...that ass•wipe is 18, right?
Max’s car - Jeff’s Jeep - was in the driveway, alright, but Max wasn’t anywhere in sight. “Where the fuck is Max?” Jeff wondered aloud. “He doesn’t have a house key, does he?” Mitchell asked. “Actually he does,” Jeff replied, “but he doesn’t know it...it’s on my key•ring, which he has, but I never told him that. C’mon, let’s see if the door’s unlocked.” It was...and they found Max standing outside by the pool. “You found my key?” Jeff asked Max. “Huh?” Max replied. “Oh...no, Coach and Jay were just leaving when I drove up, so Coach let me in. And Jay...fuck, is that guy hot•as•fuck or what? And really fucking nice. No wonder you want to fuck him. Oh, by the way, Coach said to tell you he was definitely going to call you tonight.”
Jeff was delighted that Max was still sweating and when he squeezed the large bulge in Max’s gym shorts he was excited to feel how wet his shorts still were. “Mmmm,” Jeff whispered as he tasted the saltiness of Max’s neck, and then found Max’s lips with his own, still squeezing Max’s growing bulge. “I guess this is kind of shitty of me,” Jeff said, laughing, as he dropped to his knees and pulled Max’s shorts down, “since I’m not going to get you off, at least not before I tend to Mitchell.” “I don’t care about that,” Max replied, smiling, “I’m just enjoying the attention.” He was also very happy that Jeff was making QT with Mitchell a priority.
Mitchell was watching from just a few feet away, having chosen an angle that would give him a view of Max in profile when Jeff pulled his shorts down. “Max, that’s my favorite view of you,” Mitchell said breathlessly, “your over•stuffed jock•strap and firm, hairy ass.” “Thanks, I’m happy to oblige,” Max replied as Jeff began kissing and then sucking that same over•stuffed pouch. Once Jeff located the head of Max’s dick he was basically giving Max a blow•job through his jock. Max moaned in appreciation. After a couple of minutes of that, Jeff moved to the side of the pouch, pulling the cloth away from Max’s body so he could get at Max’s sweaty low•hangers. He finally pulled Max’s jock off so his salty balls would swing free and he could suck them into his mouth, alternating between the two, with his nose buried in Max’s sweat•soaked jock, inhaling Max’s musky scent throughout.
“That was beautiful,” Mitchell said as Jeff finally relinquished Max’s junk and stood up. “Well, I might not have gotten Max hard, but that sure worked for me,” Jeff said playfully. “Not hard?” Max replied, laughing. “What the fuck do you think this boner is?” “More like an incipient erection, a boner•to•be, than a true boner,” Jeff countered. “Hmm...I do think I’ll accept your invitation to shove my ‘incipient erection’ up your ass while you’re fucking my boyfriend,” Max advised. “Oh, I hope so,” Jeff said in his most lascivious tone. “Shower time, boys.” He threw one arm around around Mitchell and led Max by his stiffening cock to the fuck•nest shower.
“Oh, by the way,“ Mitchell said to Jeff as they both stripped at the shower, “I sent Landen a text from your phone, not the real answer, just something innocuous to buy a little more time and keep him from going postal in the meantime. “Good thinking,” Jeff said. To Max he added, “Small problem with Landen, not a big deal, we’ll talk about it later.” He wasn’t about to spoil their play•time by talking about that fag QB. Mitchell was already lathering up his ass crack with Dr. Bronner’s tingly peppermint soap, and Jeff did the same, just in case Max wanted to bury his face in Jeff’s crack.
“Why don’t you lie down on your back,” Mitchell suggested to Jeff, and I’ll sit on your face.” “I fucking love that,” Jeff replied eagerly, stretching out under the hot pelting water, knowing that Mitchell was both strong and flexible enough to squat and hover over him for longer than Jeff’s tongue could drill Mitchell’s puckered pink hole. The art of it, of course, was to basically “sit” on Jeff’s face without actually putting any weight on it; all (or most) of Mitchell’s weight would be supported by his own arms and legs. “What an awesome fucking sight,” Jeff said as Mitchell’s ginger crack slowly lowered toward his face.
Just before Mitchell’s crack enveloped Jeff’s nose, Jeff said, “Hey Mitchell, I just remembered why I didn’t grab your dick the same day I popped that boner for you at the urinals.” Mitchell’s approaching ass•crack stopped abruptly an inch above Jeff’s nose. Jeff had his hands on Mitchell’s hard butt•cheeks, helping support his lover and spreading the cheeks apart to reveal Mitchell’s inviting pink puckered portal. ‘That fucking Mitchell is just about perfect,’ Jeff thought, ‘he even lined up his a•hole with my mouth perfectly.’
“Why’s that, Jeff?” Mitchell asked. “Because I had a giant fucking boner, as you’ll recall, and just as I was about to reach over and give you a squeeze, William came in to take a piss. Plus, he didn’t exactly practice restroom etiquette, you know? And he’s straight, which was weird...” “What are you talking about?” Mitchell asked patiently, still hovering. “So there are eight urinals, right? You were pissing in the one on the far right, against the wall. So I come in with my boner and took the one right next to you...so there’s six open urinals, all to my left. Let’s call yours No. 1, mine’s No. 2...William leaves No. 3 open, but takes No.4, with four open urinals to his left. I mean, don’t you think that’s strange? I’d have expected him to take No. 6 or 7. Just saying.”
“Not nearly as strange as you taking No. 2, with six other spots to choose from,” Mitchell pointed out. “That was different, bro,” Jeff explained, “I was hitting on you.” “Well, maybe William was going to hit on you, or he just wanted to see what a watermelonπŸ‰dick looks like,” Mitchell suggested, “did you ever think about that?” “Fuck no, he’s straight,” Jeff replied, “somebody told me he’s been banging that pom•pom girl, Alicia or whatever, for over a year.”
“They’re definitely a couple,” Mitchell agreed, “but Finn told me last spring that while he’d heard that William was straight...he was completely cool with letting queers, or certain queers, suck or jack him off...I mean, he wouldn’t touch their dicks or kiss or anything, but he’d get off in a fucking gopher•hole if that was the only hole around.” “Why didn’t I get that memo? I’m way better than a gopher•hole,” Jeff complained, “I’d have sucked his cock in a flash if I’d known that fucker was that desperate to avoid beating off...I mean, you know, before I had two boyfriends.”
“I blew William a couple of times back in the day. George introduced us,” Max interjected, having finished shampooing and whatever else he’d been doing. “Nice guy, nice cock, big loads, horny fucker...Mitchell, sit on Jeff’s pie•hole so he’ll shut the fuck up before the hot water runs out.” “Good idea,” Mitchell agreed. “Just a sec, I bet that fucker’s secretly qu—” Jeff began before his voice was muffled by Mitchell’s ass. “GREAT idea,” Mitchell corrected himself, laughing, as Jeff’s tongue began probing his puckered pink hole. “Mmmm...” Mitchell added.
“Say...if you’re not going to lean down and suck that 8 & 7/8ths•inch boner in front of you, I might entertain myself with it,” Max said to Mitchell. “I’ve got a better idea,” Mitchell said slyly. “Come stand over Jeff in front of me.” Mitchell had to straighten up some, and he had Max’s still•soft but swelling beer•can•cock in his mouth as soon as Max could step over Jeff’s boner and get in position. Mitchell couldn’t concentrate too well on Max’s dick, given the increasing intensity of the tongue boring into him from underneath, but he was at least able to get Max hard before he backed off that dick and told Jeff he had to have his cock inside him...that fucking minute.
Max pulled Mitchell to his feet, laughing. “That was good, huh?” Max asked Mitchell with a twinkle in his eye, before giving Jeff a hand to pull him up off the floor. “The fucking best,” Mitchell confirmed. “Let’s move to the bedroom,” Max said, not waiting for agreement before turning off the water. Jeff would probably rather fuck in the shower, he knew, but the bed would be more comfortable, especially with three of them. But Jeff didn’t argue.
“Like I was saying,” Jeff said as he accepted a towel from Max, “I bet that William is secretly queer, just afraid to act on it. He was probably fucking dying to 69 you, Max, when you were sucking him off.” “I didn’t get that impression at all,” Max replied. “Like I said, he was a nice guy, but I’m pretty sure he just thought my mouth was better than a gopher•hole.” “Yeah, but you were just a kid then,” Jeff argued, “and he wouldn’t have been any older then than you are now.” “True,” Max agreed, “but why do you even care? Don’t you have enough boyfriends now? We just whittled the number of guys who want you to fuck them down from six to two, assuming you can deal with Finn—”
“Trust me, I’ve got a plan for Finn,” Jeff insisted, “but the number is four, not two. There’s Landen, a problem we’ll talk about after whoever wants to get off gets off, plus Jay.” Thinking about Jay, Jeff reached for his phone to see if Coach had called yet. ‘Fuck yeah he did,’ Jeff thought, grinning as he joined his boyfriends in the bedroom. He’d call Coach back later, no need to appear over•eager. As Jeff surveyed the room he had another idea. “Hey Mitchell, you haven’t gotten boned up in the loft yet. Let’s go upstairs instead.” “Is there lube up there already?” Mitchell asked as he headed toward the stairs, grabbing a bottle of Astro•glide just in case. “Fuck yeah there’s lube everywhere.”
“Whoa,” Max interjected as Mitchell and Jeff mounted the circular staircase. “isn’t there still a camera up there?” “Nah,” Jeff replied as he took another couple of steps, trying to remember exactly what Coach had said about the hidden camera. He paused on the fifth step. Mitchell paused on the seventh step. Had Coach said he’d disabled the camera? “Well...hmm...I don’t think it still works...I mean, Coach was horrified, embarrassed, ashamed, apologetic, you name it...I know he said he should have removed or disabled it before he gave me the keys to the fuck•nest, and that he didn’t watch me boning the fuck out of Finn, or vice•versa, and that he’d deleted the recording from everywhere...I’m sure he turned it off, but...
“...I’m not going to swear he actually said he had,” Jeff continued. “Why, would you mind if he didn’t? I mean, worst case, if we did get recorded, Coach isn’t going to watch it, he’ll delete it after burning me a DVD...to do with as we please.” Mitchell started back up the stairs as soon as he heard ‘DVD.’ “Nope, I wouldn’t mind,” Max replied as he headed up the stairs behind Jeff.
“Hey Max, which end of this sandwich do you want?” “Put Jeff in the middle,” Mitchell suggested, “I got off just a little while ago.” “OK, Mitchell and me face•to•face,” Jeff (not Max) decided, “Max behind me. Cool?” He pushed Mitchell back onto the bed playfully, and reached for the lube. “Perfect,” Max agreed. “Toss me the lube when you’re done.”
Mitchell raised his legs and, on seeing his puckered pink hole again, Jeff opted for some quick remedial rimming, just in case Mitchell’s cock•craving had subsided any since he’d stood up from Jeff’s face. It hadn’t, which both Mitchell and Jeff quickly confirmed, almost as soon as Jeff’s tongue entered Mitchell. “Hey guys,” Jeff said as he sat up to lube Mitchell’s primed hole, “the way the three of us all shot off like a string of firecrackers on Friday night, after Mitchell jumped into bed wit us with his cock pre•lubed...let’s do that shit again.”

πŸ’¦πŸ’¦πŸ’¦.
“Except I’m probably not going to auto•nut like Max,” Mitchell said as Jeff’s thick watermelonπŸ‰dick pushed into him. “No worries, bro,” Jeff assured him, “it’s that feeling of the three of us becoming one that I really had in mind.” “I already feel like that,” Mitchell whispered. “Me too, Mitchell,” he replied as he kissed Mitchell hungrily and drove deeper and deeper into his interior pink softness. “Me too..”πŸ’¦


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.
 
Artwork: "Flavien Basson Naked", from the calendar GODS OF THE STADIUM 2012

Comments