Featured Post

The White Stud presents

The Transfer Jock (92) -- By Jack Richards

"I've been thinking of outing myself to him."


“Being with Coach was fucking amazing,” Max told Jeff animatedly. “I’m so glad we did this, Jeff. You know when Coach and I finally hooked up on Friday that was some sizzling shit...and then, boom, all of a sudden Coach started feeling guilty as shit about my tender years and all...and I felt kind of frozen out by him. But this...this was great, he couldn’t have been more passionate. I just think we needed a good fuck...and intimate conversation...to clear the air or whatever.”
Jeff loved Max at that moment more than he ever had. He leaned over and sucked the cum off his meaty cock, and then started sucking his balls, the very best balls he’d ever sucked. When he took Max’s dick in his mouth again it was already bigger, and he enjoyed feeling it grow hard in his mouth as his cock began to swell in Max’s. “Go get ‘em, Tiger,” he said to Max after ejecting Max’s throbbing boner from his mouth. “Jay’s a fucking fire•cracker and he’s ready for you. I’m sure he’ll tell you this himself, but you can’t fuck him hard enough.” Max just laughed. Mitchell was still boning Coach, but a lot faster by then, and Jeff figured Mitchell would be blasting off pretty soon.


Jeff was sitting next to a sweaty, spent Mitchell watching Max bone the fuck out of Jay, which did not suck for either of the participants. Nor did it suck for the spectators. Both Jeff and Mitchell enjoyed watching a good fuck...and what they were watching was a great, roiling, energetic fuck. “They’re so fucking beautiful together,” Jeff observed. “Duh,” Mitchell laughed, “you WOULD think that...This looks exactly like Max fucking you, or your older brother, if you had one.” “I do have an older brother,” Jeff replied, “and I always thought he was hot•as•fuck...still do...but he’s not that hot.” “Hunh...I thought you were an only child like me,” Mitchell said, surprised. “How much older? Is he queer, too? Can I have his number?”
“Almost 5 years, and not queer that I know of,” Jeff replied. “I’ve been thinking of outing myself to him...kind of like test•driving really outing myself.” “Fuck. Where’d that come from? Do you want to talk about that first?” Mitchell asked. “Not tonight. It’s cool, I’m not going to do anything rash, and, yeah, we’ll talk first.” Jeff said. “Mitchell, tell the truth, is Max fucking Jay better than I did?”
“Not better,” Mitchell replied after considering his answer, “but just as well, differently, though.” “Different how?” “Hmm...I can’t really say, but it’s different. Jay was louder with you...a lot louder...but I think that’s just because Max finally fucked him speechless.” Right on cue Jay let loose with a string of loud expletives, and both Mitchell and Jeff had a good laugh. “So much for being fucked speechless,” Jeff observed. “Max is so fucking fluid, graceful, you know?” “That he is, but so are you, Jeff, only different...Jeeze, look at Max’s ass pumping...I could eat that ass up.” “Then do it, dude, he ate my ass up while I was boning you before dinner.” “That was different, this is, you know, kind of a special fuck. I don’t want to distract him.” “Well, boning you is always fucking special, Mitchell. You can eat my ass up, if you want to, while I’m waiting to put this wood to Coach. I’m guessing he’s taking a dump after the bone•jarring treatment you just gave him. Then, there’ll be his major anal hygiene routine...not that I’m complaining, because I’m going to eat his ass up before I fuck him like he deserves to be fucked.” “Sure, bro, I’d love to bury my face in your ass. How about you get on your hands and knees? That way you can still watch them fuck while I’m snacking on you.” “10/4, bro.”
Mitchell had barely gotten his rolled tongue inside Jeff’s asshole, a style of rimming Coach had taught both of them, when Coach sat down by them, ready for his third (and usually his favorite) teenaged cock of the night. “Don’t mind me,” he said, “just letting you know I’m ready now whenever you are.” “Right, give us a couple of minutes then,” Jeff replied. He would have certainly preferred his dick up Coach’s ass over Mitchell’s tongue in his, but he appreciated Mitchell’s eagerness to help him pass the time, and it would have been rude to Mitchell to have ditched him for Coach so abruptly. And besides, Mitchell still needed some practice in mastering Coach’s technique...but he was steadily getting better, Jeff noted.
Max fortuitously came to Jeff’s assistance in resolving the question of when it would be appropriate to make the transition to Coach by suddenly, or so it seemed to Jeff, blasting off loudly, deep inside Jay💦. In truth, that orgasm had been building for some time, and had Jeff been paying closer attention, he would have noticed some of the tell•tale signs that Max was getting closer to eruption, especially the usual marked change in his tempo and the fact that Max had gone completely silent, not talking or making any other sound through his mouth, which he almost always did in the last minute before orgasm. Jeff assumed from all the commotion that had brought him back to the here•and•now that Max had just hit it over the fence for the third time in a row...three consecutive, very remarkable orgasms in him, Coach and now Jay. As Max continued pounding until after his last rope had been shot, Jeff wondered how much juice his protege might have left, but he’d find that out later.
The critical fact was that Mitchell had raised his head to watch whatever visible fireworks might be accompanying the fireworks going off eight+ inches inside Jay’s rectum. “Duty calls,” Jeff announced as they both stood, “we’re both up, bro, or about to be. My guess is that Jay is going to need a little breather, though, after the fucking work•out Max just gave him.” They all watched as Max rolled off of Jay’s ass and onto his back, drenched in sweat and panting hard, with his arms stretched out behind him and his cum•cover boner sticking up. “One second, Coach,” Jeff whispered just before launching himself like a cat into the space immediately beside Max. As he landed, he grabbed and squeezed Max’s big, heavy (and sensitive) nuts, causing Max to writhe and scream. Then Jeff buried his face in one of Max’s bushy, sweat•soaked arm•pits. “Heavenly,” Jeff moaned as he inhaled deeply. “Masterful fucking, both of you.”
“Where do you want me?” Coach asked Jeff after he tore himself away fom Max’s pits. “On the wall, fuck•nest shower,” Jeff replied without hesitation. “That seems fitting,” Coach agreed. Even though Jeff still had Tuesday night to look forward to, he had the sense that something was ending that night (and ending well), and he wanted to close that chapter the way the whole thing had really begun, him and Coach fucking against a shower wall. In the beginning, of course, it had been Coach fucking him against the wall in the locker•room showers. “Hey Mitchell, feel free to fuck that red•hot firecracker right fucking next to us if you don’t have other plans for Jay...but we’re going to start without you. “It’ll be cozy, but fun.”
Jeff took Coach by his hand and led him around the pool and through the French•doors into the fuck•nest. “I’ve wanted to say something to you ever since Max described the new three•way arrangement you guys made,” Coach said as they walked hand•in•hand. “You remember me telling you about my fraternity brother who taught me how to rim? And how he used that as kind of a test to predict whether a guy had what he called ‘the soul of a bottom?’” “Of course,” Jeff replied. “Jack? And his identical twin Joe taught you the invaluable lesson of never waking up in bed with a hot guy without waking him up by sucking him off, because you never know for sure where the next dick you suck is going to come from?”
“Yep, one and the same - no, two and the same. I couldn’t tell them apart when they were together. Anyway, Jack and I stay in touch, periodically, you know, and, hmm, it’s been several years now, but he and Joe and a third guy, maybe Joe’s boyfriend at the time, all moved in together as ‘a couple,’ what they call ‘a tricycle,’ and the three of them are still together, reportedly still very much in love. Probably sounds silly coming from me, and sillier still on the first day of your new arrangement, but what the three of you are trying is not crazy, or at least not unprecedented.”
“Wait, but didn’t you tell me that Jack and Joe were ‘the two craziest guys you’d ever met?’” Jeff asked, laughing. “Sounds about right,” Coach admitted, “but I don’t recall saying that. I only know Joe from that one week in New Orleans...well, I saw a lot of Joe that week...so I could say they’re the two craziest guys I’ve ever met - but only if you understood I meant it as a compliment, two of the craziest guys, though not the only two, with the...greatest sense of joy I’ve ever known. I’d count Jay in that group, as well.” “I can see why, Coach. He does love to fuck, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Coach laughed and said, “he does...and he really loves to be fucked well.”
“And I’d also say, Jeff,” Coach continued, “that you remind me of Jack in so many ways.” “I take that as a great compliment, Coach,” Jeff said, dabbing at his eyes. “I definitely meant it that way. Now, as Jack would say, are you going to fuck me or what?” “Just as soon as I eat your ass like Jack would if he were here.” As Coach assumed the position against the shower wall Jeff asked, “Hey Coach, do you think tonight’s been a good thing?”
Coach turned around and pulled Jeff to his feet, then kissed him as passionately as he knew how to. “Yes, the very best,” Coach declared, “and thank you for that. I’d kind of forgotten just how fucking hot your two boyfriends really are.” “Right?” Jeff agreed, grinning. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” “Nope, I am. Now are you going to fuck me or what?” “Yeah, but you just lost the ass•eating,” Jeff said, reached for the lube and laughing. “I’m going to fuck you from now until the water turns cold.” “I can only hope,” Coach replied, as he felt Jeff’s seemingly thicker•than•usual watermelon🍉dick begin to push slowly but steadily into him. “Oh fuck yes...I love how you feel inside me...” Although that would not be the last time Jeff and Coach fucked, that would be the fuck that Coach always returned to, always smiling, when he thought of Jeff.


Coach received a disturbing phone call very early on Monday morning. After hanging up, as he digested the news and considered how he should react to it, he realized that the only person he really needed to talk to about what he’d just learned was giving him one of the best blow•jobs he’d ever had. Just before his cell had rung he’d been thinking that he would cum in his partner’s mouth - any minute - and after that he’d probably get, if he were truly the luckiest man alive, one of the best ass•fuckings he’d ever had. The ass•fucking was pre•arranged, so it wasn’t such a stretch for him to predict what came next, and as for its anticipated quality, well, his partner had never let him down.
Coach immediately understood that he had three options as he began to feel the precursors of orgasm: he could stop his partner now and tell him about the call; he could blow his morning load and then tell his partner what he needed to hear; or he could wait and share the news after his partner had dumped another huge load into his ass. It dawned on him suddenly that telling his partner the news after the blow•job was completed but before the ass•fucking wouldn’t necessarily preclude the ass•fucking he had been so looking forward to. That would depend on how his partner reacted to the news, and that was a genuine unknown.
Coach looked over at the other three guys, still sleeping, tightly entwined, in Jay’s extra•large king•size bed. The five of them, giddy with endorphins and celebratory alcohol, had relocated to Jay’s house late the night before for an unscheduled second round, or partial second round, as it had turned out. By the time Coach had considered his options and surveyed the room, his options had narrowed to two - he was already blowing his load in his partner’s mouth💦. When that face looked up at him he’d have to decide whether to talk first, and greedily hope for an ass•fucking afterwards, or to even more greedily collect his ass•fucking first before imparting the disturbing news his partner clearly had to hear.
After luxuriating just a moment in his post•orgasmic bliss, he made his decision. When his partner looked up at him and grinned, with cum on either side of his mouth, just as Coach had known he’d do, he took a deep breath and said, “Max, come up here a minute. I’ve got something pretty serious I need to tell you.” After Max had scampered happily into his arms, Coach had no choice but to first kiss his own cum off of Max’s face; he could hardly have the weighty discussion he had to have with Max while looking at the gobs of jizz on both of his cheeks. Coach felt like a man newly in love, but he wasn’t and he hadn’t confused what his feelings for Max were during the truly incredible night that had followed the long and exquisite ass•fucking Jeff had gifted him in the fuck•nest shower.
Coach hadn’t been wearing his watch, and he wouldn’t have looked at it if he’d had it on, but he had the sense that Jeff had probably fucked him - mostly hard - for about half an hour, maybe even longer. As crazy as that seemed at first blush, Coach knew Jeff had just fucked Jay, and that he’d fucked Mitchell just before they’d fortuitously met at La Muralla. And while he didn’t have any other details, he was virtually certain Jeff would have blown one or more loads before late afternoon. All to say, it wasn’t that surprising that Jeff could’ve fucked him for 30 minutes before he’d finally exploded powerfully in him. What should have been surprising, but wasn’t because he’d gotten to know Jeff very well indeed over the last several days (and nights), was that Jeff could even get it up to fuck him in the first place.
The fucking before Jeff’s exquisite shower•fuck had been incredible in its own right, of course, and by all rights, his and Jay’s tryst with the three jocks should have ended when Jeff finally nutted in him with his cheek pressed against the shower wall, because Mitchell had finished loudly inside Jay right next to him and Jeff a few minutes before. Or arguably after he’d lovingly and slowly topped Max following the shower•fuck and before they’d relocated to Jay’s, since Jeff’s offer had included just such an option. He had been fucked like he wanted to be fucked, whether he deserved it or not, by Max•Mitchell•Jeff in turn, while Jay had been fucked by Jeff•Max•Mitchell. He’d always known Jay to be a noisy bottom, of course, but he’d never heard him as loud as he’d been while Jeff was pounding him, and again when he was experiencing Mitchell’s full ten•and•a•half inches. Regrettably, he’d spent most of the time Max had been fucking Jay in the bathroom.
The time Coach had spent with Max had been beyond special, and they’d monopolized each other from the time Coach had entered him back out on the fuck•platform, looking into Max’s gleeful blue eyes, until he’d blown his load in Max’s mouth just a couple of minutes earlier. It had FELT like love, and they had responded to each other all night long as lovers, but it wasn’t that for either of them. Coach might have ‘loved’ Max that night, and he certainly loved what Max had done to and for him that night, but he was in love with Jay and he had delighted in every yelp, squeal, shout and grunt of pleasure he’d heard emanating from Jay throughout the long night. He wondered what Max thought - God knows, Max had seemed to reciprocate everything he’d thought he was feeling - but Coach understood that was a question that couldn’t be asked. It was enough that they’d had this ‘long moment.’ It had to be.
Coach also knew that what he was about to tell Max was going to change his life for the short•term, though it wouldn’t change the course of his life. He would have been on the same path anyway sooner or later, and probably sooner. Once he’d kissed and licked his cum off of Max’s face, and Max had snuggled back down onto his chest, holding him tightly, he began telling Max what he needed to know.
“Max, that was Landen’s father calling just now from the hospital,” Coach said, taking another deep breath, “with some pretty bad news. His folks were out of town last night, and his dad was a little fuzzy about exactly what happened, but Landen was rushed to the ER last night by ambulance. At first they thought maybe he had appendicitis due to some of the symptoms, but now they’re pretty sure it’s some kind of intestinal blockage...actually the problem area is the upper end of the rectum and lower end of the sigmoid colon...Landen’s dad said they feel like he’s going to be fine, eventually, but they’re going to have to operate on Landen later today.” “Holy shit,” Max said, “that’s awful.” Upper rectum - lower sigmoid sounded to Max like a lost dildo🥒, but he kept his speculation to himself.
“Yeah, damned tough luck. Apparently they first tried to relieve the blockage without surgery - don’t ask me how they do that - but it wasn’t successful. His dad says the surgeons will make a pretty small incision in his lower abdomen, and if there aren’t any complications, Landen should be almost good as new within a couple or three weeks...good as new for a guy who doesn’t play football, that is...but, football•wise, getting hit and tackled...best case is no contact practice for at least three to four weeks...and it’ll likely be five to six weeks before he can play a game. And that’s best case. It all just depends...
“Now, I know this wasn’t what you expected, but I’m going to ask you to step up and try to fill his shoes.” Coach chuckled then as he chose his next words, deciding he could certainly be more personal under the present circumstances. “Look, I’m not going to lie to you...everything I said to you at your locker on Friday afternoon, I was telling you then so I’d have an excuse to be there looking at your dick. About leadership, your skill•set, future with the program...and all that other horse•shit...but I still meant every word of what I said. All true. I’ve got tremendous confidence in you. You’ve got exactly what it takes to be an exceptional quarterback...at every level. You’re going to get your chance to prove me right over the next few weeks. It’s a whole lot sooner than we’d planned for, but I know you can do it. Take any anxiety you have, or even any fear, which is perfectly normal, and use that to make yourself stronger, and step up now to give me...not me...but to give the team, your team, your very best. Can you do that?”
Coach hated making that pep talk, and not just because he’d have rather had Max’s beer•can•cock filling him up for the last time. The whole situation was fucking unfair, to everyone, Max most of all. And to Landen, he remembered. But he was, first and foremost, a football coach. The only other plausible option at QB was William, who’d been a decent middle•school QB, but for the past three years he had only kicked and played some DB. He was athletic and adaptable, for sure, but on sheer physical ability and up•side, Max would’ve probably taken Landen’s job at some point during this season anyway. High school football didn’t operate solely on merit, however, and you didn’t bench a senior who’d started for a year and won a state championship for the potential of a sophomore who’d never taken a snap in a varsity game. None of that mattered now. Max would get thrust into the fire before he was ready, and William would be, had to be, Max’s back•up until Landen returned. And then, if Coach’s appraisal of Max was right, he’d have a very difficult decision to make.
“Yes sir, I can, and I will,” Max said quietly, feeling bad for Landen, asshole or not, but at the same time inwardly exultant at the opportunity he was being given, confident that once the starting role was his, he’d never relinquish it. “Coach, I can do this. I know I can. Um...do you need to go to the hospital now? Or do either of us need to do anything else right this minute?” “No, it’s still too early, but I thought you ought to know now as soon as I could tell you.” Or almost as soon as he could have told Max. Coach was glad Max had drained his balls first.
“Then before I become just your quarterback and start giving the team the very best I have to offer, I want to be your lover for another...mmm...several minutes, at least...longer, I think...and give YOU the very best I can give you. Would that be alright?” Max asked as his throbbing cock leaked pre•cum onto Coach’s thigh. Coach looked across the bed, not that anything he might have seen there would have changed his answer. Mitchell was still snoring lightly, but Jeff had stirred and was looking his way with a shit•eating grin on his face. The Transfer Jock winked at him and then dove beneath the covers to begin Jay’s wake•up blow•job.
“Son,” Coach intoned solemnly to Max, “Take all the time you want. We’ll practice the Two Minute Drill some other time.”💦

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 by YuLiang Liu


Post a Comment