Gay Erotic Stories

Brocker was a major leaguer who had been in the papers and all over the news for speaking out so bluntly against gays and coloreds. They were sending him back to the minors to get his head on straight and his shit together; a form of sensitivity training, they said. He was a true homophobe. And I wasn’t colored.

We got a lecture before practice about Brocker’s arrival. “Okay, listen up. You’ve all heard the rumor that John Brocker is joining our team. The rumor is true. When he gets here, you don’t give him a hero’s welcome or make a big fuss. That’s straight from the front office. He is one of you. Treat him that way. Brady, he’ll be rooming with you.”

I felt a chill go down my spine and sweat break out on my forehead. John Brocker was not only the biggest homophobe on the planet, he was a stud, and I was going to have in my room. How the hell was I going to manage to be around the big muscle-hunk who was so damned good looking he made girls piss their pants if he even looked at them. I couldn’t protest or even question the decision, though. It was a simple matter of me having a room to myself. If I’d been black, I could have protested. But like I said, I’m not black. I am gay and I couldn’t admit it.

Brocker arrived in the team van that picked him up at the bus station. Yeah, he had to bring the bus to training camp. He got his gear out of the back and set it down and looked all around. Godd, he looked studly standing there in his uniform with those tight pants hugging his massive thighs and that big bulge of his cupped manhood. “Brocker, join us!” the coach yelled. He picked up his stuff and tossed it in the dugout and came onto the field with the rest of us. He didn’t act snobbish or anything. Cocky, maybe, but that was his natural demeanor. “Guys, you all know John Brocker. I’m not going to make introductions; you guys can introduce yourselves. Now, let’s play some ball. Brocker, you take left field.”

He didn’t say anything. His expression didn’t show that he was unhappy about not playing center field or second base, the positions he played in the majors. He sauntered out on the field with the rest of us. The coach didn’t treat him any differently than he did the rest of us, but we did. This was John Brocker, and he was good. He was better than any of us, but he didn’t act like it. After practice we boarded the bus and hit the road. It was sort of sad and lonely; nobody there to say good-bye to anybody. They didn’t allow that. We stopped to eat supper about seven. The guys, including me, were afraid to sit with Brocker and he ended up in a both by himself. “Fuck, guys, I took a shower this morning,” he complained.

Jason Wright poked me and said, “Let’s go sit with him.” We got up and walked over to Brocker’s booth, along with another guy. The other two slid in on one side and I ended up sitting next to John. He couldn’t scoot over; his size required his full half of the seat and our legs touched when I sat down. He jerked his knee away. The conversation was strained at first, till John eased the tension.

“Look guys, I fucked up, didn’t keep my mouth shut. I’m not sorry I said what I did, although I had to make a public apology. So now I’m here and I gotta tell you I don’t mind it. I hope you don’t mind my being here.”

“Naw, man, we don’t mind,” Jason said.

“We just need a little time to get used to have a major leaguer playing with us,” I said.

“I put my jockstrap on the same way you guys do,” he said. We piled out of the bus at a motel in some little town in Kansas about nine that night. I guess Brocker didn’t know he was rooming with me. It never came up. Maybe he thought he would have his own room. If he did, he found out different when the team manager gave us our room assignments. Brocker didn’t seem to mind that he was sharing a room. I slid my key card in the lock and let us in. He closed the door and turned the bolt and I felt like I had just been locked up in a cell. “I’m gonna shower, okay? Or do you want it first?” he asked as he tossed his bag on the bed nearest the window.

“No, go ahead, just don’t use all the hot water,” I said, half-joking. I stretched out on the other bed and turned on the TV. John started taking off his uniform. I tried not to watch, but I could see him out of the corner of my eye and I had to force myself to keep my eyes on the TV when he bared his upper body. Dam, he was built! Muscles layered over muscles, and he was a lot smoother than I expected him to be. He took off his shoes and socks and undid his pants. I braved a glance at him as he stood there in his jockstrap. “Fuckin’ cup, I should have taken it out before we got on the bus,” he growled as he unsnapped the pouch and pulled the cup out and tossed it on the bed. In that daring glance I saw how the pouch of his jockstrap seemed to fill out, like his manhood was relaxing from the tight confines of the hard cup. God, I thought, how big can he be! It was only a glance, and I forced my eyes forward as he peeled his jockstrap down and kicked it aside. When he walked by me I nearly lost it. He was an absolutely beautiful male; a symphony of muscle in motion, and his manhood was something to behold. He hung out in a cocky sort of arch, about six inches, swinging back and forth over his balls as he walked. I let my eyes follow him as he walked past and he couldn’t see me watching. His butt made my ache inside. He went into the bathroom and closed the door. I was in a terrible sweat. I can’t do this, I thought. I can’t be cooped up in the same room with this stud night after night for the whole fuckin’ summer.

But there was no place on earth that I’d rather be. I was where every gay in the country only dreamed of being. I eyed the cup lying on the bed. He would be at least a few minutes. I picked up the cup and but it over my face and breathed in the dull, musky aroma so fresh from his manhood. Then I saw the jockstrap, all rumpled in a heap, still stretched to the form of his manhood. I took careful note of how it was arranged and picked it up. It was still warm. I put it to my face and breathed in and out, drinking in the fresh smell of his manly sweat. I felt dizzy and my cock began to get hard. I can’t let this happen, I told myself. I put the cup back in precisely the same spot on his bed and arranged his jockstrap on the floor as I’d found it. I just hoped he didn’t notice it had been touched. I was nervous as hell about him coming back out and me having to strip down in front of him. I’m built, and hung well, but Brocker was awesome. I hit on a solution. I undressed and crawled in bed and when Brocker came back out I pretended to be asleep.

He turned the TV down and I heard him getting into bed then the light went out. I was safe for the moment. At least till next morning. I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder and opened my eyes to get the jolt of my life. There was Brocker, standing beside my bed, naked with his huge cock practically hanging over my face. “Better shag ass,” he said. “We’ve got a game to play.”

I stretched and flung the covers off. I had to shower. Brocker was still in his shorts when I came out of the shower. “I guess there’s no rush. I forgot the time change. We’ve got an extra hour,” he said. Okay, I could survive the next hour, but barely. If Brocker looked awesome when he was naked, he nearly matched it in those tiny white briefs that were stretched to the limit trying to contain his manhood. He caught me looking at him a couple of times but I tried to pretend I was looking out the window and I don’t think he caught on.

We won the game and moved on. No time for celebration or glory; there was no glory in a minor league road team winning a game with no fans. We were pretty much alone among ourselves while the opposing team had their fans to cheer them on. That night some of the guys were going out on the town. They asked me and Brocker to go along. “I can’t,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“I’m confined to the room.”

“What! How come? What’d you do?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine that he’d gotten in trouble with the coach already.

“They don’t want me seen out in public except on the field till this shit blows over.”

“That’s shit,” someone said.

“Tell me about it,” he said. We went on without him. I felt bad. By the third night it was getting to him. Nathan Black was in our room and John was bitching about having to live like a nun. “Hell, I think I would just about settle for one of those fags I slammed,” he said.

“Maybe we could find you a woman, bring her back here,” Nathan said.

John’s eyes lit up. “Well, they didn’t say I couldn’t have a woman in my room,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s not exactly public,” Nathan said.

“The coach would shit,” John said.

The coach doesn’t have to know,” Nathan said. “Hell, do you think he cares how many women are sneaked into the rooms?”

John laughed, shaking his head. “This is so fuckin’ different. We used to have women waiting outside our room when he we got to a hotel. One time I had two women waiting inside my room.”

“This is the minors,” Nathan reminded him. “Yeah, I remember the minors,” John said in a melancholy tone.

“But there are women in every town anxious to get laid by an athlete,” Nathan said.

“See what you can find,” John said. “And hey…” He dug out his wallet and handed me some money. “Pick me up some condoms, will you? Extra large.”

I went with Nathan. “Extra large? Fuck, he must be hung like a horse. How big is extra large, anyway?

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him hard,” I said.

We found out how big he might be. We bought a box of a dozen plus a pack of three. I tore open one of the packages and unrolled the condom then blew in it to see its capacity. “Goddam! If he can fill that thing up, this broad’s not going to be able to walk for a week,” Nathan said.

I was guessing I would have to be with Nathan for most of the night if we found John a woman. We found a sports bar that a lot of the guys had already discovered. “Shit, they’ve got women hanging all over them,” I said.

“Well we’ll have to pull one of them off and drag her back to the motel.”

“Tell her who’s waiting at the motel and you won’t have to drag her off.”

“Hey, where’s Brocker?’ somebody asked.

“He’s restricted to the room,” I said.

“Why, what’d he do now?”

“Nothing. He just can’t leave the room at night and be seen in public.”

“For the entire summer?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Fuck, that’s gotta be tough; a guy who’s use to beating the women off with a ball bat.”

One of the women was paying closer attention than we thought, and knew her baseball. “Wait a minute, you saying John Brocker is back at your motel?” she asked in disbelief.

“He’s his roommate,” he said, pointing to me.

“I heard he was going to be sent back to the minors as punishment but…ohh my God, I can’t believe it.

“Would you like to meet him?” Nathan asked her quietly.

“Oh, yes! He is so hot and sexy. Do you think he’ll see me?”

“Trust me,” Nathan said. The three of us left and returned to the room. John was lying on the bed in his tiny white briefs. He barely looked up when Nathan and I walked into the room.

“No luck, huh?” he said, his eyes on the TV.

“Look again,” I said. He looked over and his eyes popped. “Holy Shit!” he gasped as he sat on the edge of the bed. “This is Angela. She wanted to meet you,” Nathan said.

“Well, I’m very glad to meet you, Angela,” he said. He came right over to her and took her hand and kissed it. I watched in awe. He didn’t give it a second thought that all he had on was his briefs. I’m sure she did, though, the way she was looking at him. I think she understood that she would get to more than meet John Brocker.

“Look, Brady and I are going back to the bar,” Nathan said.

“Yeah…see you guys later…thanks.”

When I glanced over my shoulder, Brocker already had his arms around her and was squirming and writhing his mostly naked body against her. Damn, I thought, she was going to get her eyeballs fucked right out of her head--lucky bitch!

Nathan and I joined the others at the sports bar and I played their game with the women except that I didn’t try to pick one up and take her back to my room. Thankfully, I had the perfect excuse. My room wasn’t available. I decided to go check on the situation back at the motel, to see if I had a place to sleep yet. Angela was coming out of the room just as I walked up. I whistled for my cab to wait. She was disheveled and she looked a little dazed, almost as if she didn’t recognize me at first. I walked her to the cab.

“Everything they say about John Brocker is true,” she said. “My God, he’s a stud! I just want to thank you for the most wonderful night of my life.” “Hey, I didn’t do it, he did,” I said, jokingly. When I went inside, John was lying in bed with the sheet up to his waist with a satisfied smile on his handsome face. The air was thick with the smell of raw sex.

“Thanks, man,” he said.

“Sure, anytime. It’s gotta be hell being confined, with your reputation.”

“Do I have a reputation?” he asked with a grin.

“Shit, every guy on the team wishes he was in your shoes.”

“Not right now,” he said.

“Yeah, right now--this is just temporary.”

“I don’t know. I can’t see them sending me back up to the majors. I think I’m gonna be traded or sold, if anybody will have me,” he said. “But fuck it. I’m playing ball and I’m with a great bunch of guys. I can live on the money I’ve already made.” “That must be a good feeling.” I said. We talked well into the night, about everything, and I felt I really got to know him. And for a brief time I saw John Brocker as something besides a hot, sexy stud, although I never lost my appreciation for his bared muscular body. I felt more at ease with him; and felt it would be easier to keep my secret. Till one night it all came out. He guessed. All because some words came out of my mouth wrong and I wasn’t able to cover them.

I was lying on my bed, freshly showered, and John was drying off after his shower, his muscles rippling, his big cock dancing, and for a fateful moment, I looked at him--really looked. I guess I was gazing at him.

“What’re you looking at?” he asked gruffly.

I snapped back to reality. “You’re really built. It’s hard not to notice.”

“You’re built damned good yourself,” he said.

“But not like that,” I said. I don’t know if there was a fleeting glance at his manhood when I said it or if read the wrong meaning into it, but I knew instantly from his look that I’d said the wrong thing. My gut tightened. Shit, if he got mad and hit me, with the size of his arms he would knock me dead.

“Are you talking about my body or my cock?” he asked.

“Well, it’s pretty hard not to notice that, too,” I said, trying to sound light- hearted.

“Yeah, well, don’t notice too much. I hate guys staring at my cock. I know I’m big.”

“Oh, really. If you hate it so much, why do you parade around naked?”

“I’m not parading,” he said with a scowl. “I’m drying off.”

“You could do that in the bathroom and come out in your shorts. Although those briefs you wear don’t conceal much.” Damn, where did that come from! I was burying myself. “You’re noticing too damned much about me,” he said as he rummaged in his bag for a clean pair of shorts.

“I was going to ask you where you get our underwear. I’d like to get some like it.”

He tossed me a pair of his shorts. “Here, you can have these.”

“Thanks,” I said, snatching them out of the air.

“Hey, I shouldn’t have growled at you. Fuck, yeah, I like people looking at me; what the hell good is being built like this if nobody notices. But sometimes I can’t help wondering what’s behind the looks and it gives me the creeps.”

“You seem to enjoy it when the cameras are in the locker room and you’re strutting around with no shirt, or with a towel on. Why would it give you the creeps if some babe was ogling you and thinking she would like to get in bed with you, which is what they’re all thinking. They’re all hoping that towel falls off.”

“I was talking about fags.”

“Why should that bother you, you’re not going to bed with them,” I said. “Hell, you can’t be the thought police.”

I just don’t like it,” he said.

“Yeah, the whole world knows that,” I said.

He ended the conversation with his silence when he got in bed but I knew deep down that there had been a seed of doubt planted in his handsome head. Part of me hoped the seed sprouted and bore fruit. Part of me was scared it would. I couldn’t help thinking how great it would be if John knew I was gay and he was okay with it and we were rooming together. I half hoped he guessed, if he didn’t go on a rampage and kill me. I wasn’t going to come out to him. Nobody on the team knew.

I woke up later in the night, unable to sleep. John was stretched out across his bed on his stomach; his arms overhead, one leg straight out, the other one cocked out and his cock and balls were lying back between his legs. My eyes fell to his gorgeous butt and wouldn’t move. I just sat there and gazed at him, my mouth watering for his butt. Damn, how I would like to bury my face in those tight, round buns. I knew he would like it if he could just get past the gay thing. I got a hardon. He was so damned gorgeous he gave me a hardon! I stood up and stepped closer to his bed. I knelt down for a precious moment, close enough that I could feel his body heat. I was sorely tempted but scared as hell. I stood back up. If he happened to wake up and catch me knelt down beside his bed hell would open up and swallow me. My cock ached it was so hard. It’d been too long and chances of running into a guy to have sex with were pretty slim. I went to the bathroom to jack off. But John’s naked body drew me like a magnet. I stepped out of the bathroom and stood there in the soft darkness and jacked off while I looked at his body. I pretended my cock was his cock, and that my chest was his. I shot off in my hand. I caught pretty much all of it but it was overflowing my hand and running down my fingers. I went in the bathroom to rinse my hand off then got some toilette paper and cleaned up the spots off the floor. I slept good for the rest of the night but I knew the horse was out of the barn. I was sure John knew, and he would be biding his time to trip me up. I thought I might ask for a room transfer, but I would have to give a reason. And besides, I couldn’t deny myself the sight of the big stud every morning and night. That was worth any risk.

For some reason, the next morning John sat with me on the bus. Not that he avoided me before but he it looked like he sought me out. I was especially surprised after the exchange we’d had the night before. Part of me hoped that maybe we were becoming more than just room mates. Maybe we were becoming friends, of sorts. He dozed off and his leg leaned against mine. I wiled the miles away; I sat and looked at his massive thighs and the mighty bulge between them. When he woke up he stretched his legs, pressing his right leg against my left before he casually moved it away.

That night’s game, somewhere in Missouri, tied and went into extra innings and it was late when we got to the motel. John was irritable. I tried to overlook it till he hit me with a bombshell. He had come out of the bathroom after his shower wearing a white T-shirt and those tiny white briefs, I guess as a result of our conversation the night before, he decided he wouldn’t run around naked. He looked hot; about as sexy in his clothes as he did naked.

“You’re a fag, aren’t you?” He asked.

I was visibly taken aback. “I never put that label on myself,” I said.

“But you are. I’m reading all the signs.”

“What signs?”

He laughed. Hey, you don’t get built like I am without getting used to the looks,” he said.

“So you’re used to it, why should any of it bother you?” I asked.

“Hey, do you want a piece of me,” he barked in a belligerent tone.

“Not the way you mean it,” I snapped back.

“Okay…do you want a piece of me,” he asked again, this time grabbing his shorts.

I was about ready to melt and run down in a heap at the way the conversation was going. I looked at his arm bulging out of his shirt sleeve. “The way you feel about fags, do you think I’m crazy enough to fall for that? I want to live to play another game.”

He backed down a little. “Hey, I hate fags, I don’t hate you,” he said. “Where and how do you draw the distinction?” I asked.

“You’re my room-mate, my team-mate.”

“From what I’ve read, that never mattered before.”

“I thought we were starting to get along,” he said.

“I never know what the hell you’re thinking,” I said. “I don’t know whether you’re going to be cordial one minute, or break my neck the next.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I’m supposed to be working on that,” he said.

“If they ask me, I’d have to say it’s not working so far.”

“Hey, I wasn’t setting you up,” he said. “I was only asking.”

“You hate fags but you don’t hate me because I’m your team mate and your roommate. Is that because I’m handy and you’re confined to the room? You wanta use me?” Shit, I didn’t care if he used me. I would be his fuckin’ slave…but I wanted to clear the air between us. “I didn’t intend it to be that way. I just…well, I wouldn’t object to a mutually agreed arrangement.”

“And that means? You’re not going to break me in two if I make a pass at you?”

“I don’t understand. I thought this was what gay guys went for,” he said, motioning to his body.

“Oh, you’re a fuckin’ dream,” I told him. “I just don’t know whether to trust you. I don’t know what your mood is going to be afterwards, whether you’re going to announce to the entire team that you had sex with me, or beat the shit out of me.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“You outed one of your former team mates; damn near ruined his career,” I reminded him. “No, the front office knew he was queer. Everybody on the team knew it.”

“But you were the one who made an issue of it.” “He made an issue of it when he made a pass at me in the showers,” he said.

“I rest my case,” I said.

“Hey, if you don’t want it, okay; we both loose,” he said with a shrug.

“I do,” I blurted in a way that turned his head. “Fuck, it’s like living a dream and a nightmare at the same time. Shit, man, I jacked off the other night just watching you sleep. But you’re damned intimidating. You don’t know how scared I was when I found out we were rooming together. The biggest homophobe in the nation, and I get him for a room mate.”

“I’m supposed to be working on that, too,” he said.

“So what’s your plan, to go back and tell the front office that you roomed with a fag, you even had sex with him, so you’re cured of your homophobia?”

“You know something? I’m not going back to the majors. They know it and I know it. I’m just biding my time till my contract runs out. Maybe I’ll get lucky and get traded but I doubt it. I’m damaged goods. Maybe I’ll play in the Canadian leagues or go to Japan.”

“I feel bad about that,” I told him.

He gave me a knowing smile. “You really jacked off watching me sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to do that anymore,” he said. “I’m willing if you’re interested.” He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs. “But if you’re not, tell me so I don’t waste my time taking these off.”

“You won’t be wasting your time,” I assured him.

He pulled the shorts off his hips and stopped. “Do you want to take them off?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, my eyes glued to his briefs. He walked over and stood in front of me, his feet planted wide and his hands on his hips; a typical studly stance for John. I hooked my fingers in the waist band and pulled his shorts the rest of the way down. Down, down, down, practically to his knees before the end of his cock was freed. It swung up and hit me in the chin.

“Hello, there,” John said.

I pushed his shorts down and he stepped out of them and there I was face to face with possibly the biggest cock in captivity. It hung out about nine inches now, still rubbery, not hard, thick as hell, and pulsating bigger. “Geezuss, how big is it gonna get?” “Maybe it’s better if you don’t know,” he said. “Twelve inches.”

“Damn!”

“Yeah, it can get pretty uncomfortable, stuffing everything inside that damned cup,” he said. His cock got bigger--and bigger. I thought it had reached the twelve-inch mark but it kept growing, straighter and longer and thicker and my eyes were popping. What the fuck was I going to do with it! I watched it throb to its full size and hardness. It stuck out and up, quivering when it throbbed, bowing its head slightly, and then thrusting up again. He was oozing cock-honey out the slit.

“My Godd!” I gasped as his cock expanded one more time. “My Godddd! Goddam, I never seen a cock this big,” I said.

He chuckled softly. He twisted his hips, making his cock sway back and forth in my face. I knew I had to get to it, and I wanted to, but I was so afraid I wouldn’t be able to do him justice and satisfy him. This cock needed an expert. I was good in that I loved cock, but I didn’t consider myself an expert. I leaned in with my hands on my knees and lapped the ball juice as it boiled out of the wide slit. I relished the taste of him. I pulled on his cock and cupped and squeezed his balls with my other hand. “These feel like two softballs,” I said.

“Yeah, they’re nice and full, too. I wrapped my hand around his cock as far as my fingers would reach. I put my other hand around it and there was still more cock sticking out my fists than I could get in my mouth. I opened my mouth and stretched my jaws, not at all sure if the huge cock would fit in my mouth. I wet my lips and took a deep breath then put my mouth around the head of his cock. “Awww, Sweet Geezussss!” he gasped, tossing his head back as he thrust his hips forward.

Maybe I would be able to satisfy him after all, if he was acting like that before I even did anything. I would soon discover that John was easy to satisfy, partly because he’d never had anybody really suck his cock. “Shit, I can’t do this justice,” I said.

“It’s ain’t looking for justice,” he said. I opened my mouth and he shoved his cock in. I had to really force it to get down on the shaft far enough to touch my lips to my hand. He fucked my hands and my mouth and I wondered how he ever found a woman who could take him. He must, though, for he always had women all over him. Most of what I did to make him feel good was with my tongue. I lashed it around the head and swirled it back and forth along the tender spot on the underside of the head. It made his cock twitch and him groan. The bluish veins bulged with his life’s blood. I could feel the seminal vein sliding across my tongue, about an inch wide. I must deliver one hell of a load, I thought. I was in a state of absolute ecstasy with my mouth and both hands filled with his incredible cock. I had to tell myself, ‘I’m sucking John Brocker’s cock..the John Brocker who hates gays.”

He pulled his cock free and smacked it against my face like a club. I shut my eyes and happily took the beating. He shoved it back in my mouth, lodging it hard against the back of my throat. I held my ground at first but I was afraid he might force it into my throat and I pulled back. “I can’t take it all the way,” I told him.

“I know. You don’t have to.”

“I told you, I can’t do it justice.”

“Oh, you’re doing it justice, buddy. Goddam, you’ve got a wicked tongue.”

“Just so the question doesn’t come up at the crucial moment, you can shoot in my mouth if you want to.”

“That’d be great. But it’s not going to be any time soon. I want this to last all night. I gotta warn you, though, there’s an awful lot of it,” he said.

“The more the better,” I said.

“Okay, but you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said.

I began to think he WAS going to last all night. I sucked him till my jaws were getting sore. He pulled his cock out again and held it up against his belly. “Give your jaws a rest and suck my balls. I want to see what feels like.” I tilted my head and took his left one in my mouth and washed it with my tongue. “Awwwhhhhhhhh, fuck that feels great!”

It tasted good, too, and felt great in my mouth. I went to the other one. They were too big to get them both in my mouth at the same time as I liked to do. I was heady from the manly smell of him. I lapped my tongue way back under his balls where his cock came out of his body. I hoped to plant the seed but I would wait till later to see if the seed took on life. I wasn’t sure he was ready or could handle me tonguing his ass. Hi might freak out over that. As much as I loved sucking his magnificent cock I was happy for him to finish. I was getting tired, believe it or not, and my throat was pretty sore from the incessant pounding. And on top of that, I wanted to experience his climax; to taste his cum, and see how much ‘an awful lot of it’ would be. I knew instinctively that I was in for a treat. A stud like him could do nothing less than deliver a stupendous load. It took both hands and my mouth to accommodate his mammoth size but I formed a pussy for him with a lashing tongue at the end. It finally brought him around.

“Oh, fuck…you’re getting me close,” he gasped, putting his hand on top of my head. I didn’t let up. I sucked him till his legs were shaking and his hips were lurching out of control. I brace myself for the unknown. “Ohhh…..Ohhh, fuck…..here it comes!”

He barely got the words out of his mouth when he let loose with a gusher. I could actually hear the stuff gushing up through his cock, swelling the big seminal vein along the bottom of the shaft. The stuff surged over my lower lip and blasted against the back of my throat like hot honey. I was startled by the power of it. He shot out another thick rope of cum and a third and my mouth was full. There wasn’t much room for much more than his cock anyway. I swallowed but my mouth was filled again almost immediately. My God, he was going to drown me with it! I was surprised at the power and amount of cum he was shooting, but I was amazed that he didn’t stop. I wondered how much more he could have left, and all the while he was spurting hot cum in my mouth. Finally, the power subsided and the stuff boiled out of his cock over my tongue. I swallowed still another mouthful and his cock began to calm down. It didn’t go soft but it lost some of its quivering steel-hardness. His legs were still shaking so bad he had to get his weight off of them. He pulled his cock out of my mouth and stumbled backwards to sit on the edge of his bed.

“Damn, when you say there’s a lot of it…,” I gasped.

“Holy Shit! I never shot off like that before!” he gasped. “It felt like you were gonna suck my nuts right up through my cock.”

“I thought you were going to drown me,” I said.

He laughed and plopped back across the bed, his chest still heaving. Cum was still boiling out of his cock, but I didn’t make any move to get it. I wasn’t that sure of him yet. I didn’t know what his attitude would be now that he was satisfied. “Was that really your first blowjob?” I asked.

“Yeah, you’re the lucky first,” he said. “Oh, there have been plenty of women go down on me, but they can’t handle it for shit. This was better than anything I ever had. Better than I ever imagined.”

“Next time, I’m going to take it all the way down my throat,” I said as a way of testing him to see if he would let it happen again. He just smiled. I wished he would say something, but he closed his eyes with a dreamy look on his face, and within minutes he was asleep.

I was as much at ease with John as with any room mate I’d ever had, gay or straight. He was like a different man, even with the other guys. It was as if I’d softened him around the edges. Being alone with him in our room was the most special time of any day. I never lingered over supper and I didn’t go out to the bars or nightclubs unless John indicated that he wanted me to find him a woman. I would go find him one and bring her back to the room and join the others at the bar for the length of time he said he needed alone with her. He didn’t always ask for a woman though, and those nights we both stayed in and I knew he wanted me to suck his cock.

He had to have sex every day, and he had to have it for a long time. So I was his outlet when he didn’t want a woman. I was especially happy for those many times that he actually chose me over a woman. I was in my own little heaven when I was stretched out between John’s muscular thighs, lapping on his balls and sucking his incredible cock. I languished in the aftermath of his climax when he would explode a huge load of hot cum in my mouth and watch me as I gulped it down. He loved to see me swallow it. He liked to shoot on my face too, then scoop it up with his fingers and feed it to me. It excited him that I liked his cum. Every time I sucked his cock I naturally worked down to his balls, which he loved, and down there I was only inches from the forbidden portal of his very being. I wanted so bad to show him how wonderful I could make him feel with my tongue but I couldn’t work up the nerve. Till one night when he was stretched out on his stomach, I was compelled to make my pitch. His gorgeous butt sticking up so nice and round and hard made my mouth water. I had to have him.

“Want me to start from the back tonight?” I asked smartly.

He looked over his shoulder at me. “Forget it. If there’s an ass in this entire world that ain’t gonna get fucked, you’re looking at it.”

“You think I’m that stupid? I wasn’t talking about fucking it. I was talking about eating it.” “Eating?…my ass?...fuck, are you serious?”

“Yeah. Just let me show how good it can feel,” I said.

“Fuck yeah. Go ahead, chow down,” he said, spreading his legs out wide. He jutted his butt up, clenching the taut muscles. I lay between his legs and began kissing his butt. He sort of trembled. “I’ve told a lot of people to kiss my ass, but this is the first time anybody ever did it,” he said.

I dragged my tongue along the crevice and he relaxed the muscles. I pulled them apart and buried my face between them. “Awwwhhhhhhh,” he moaned softly as I lashed at his asshole with my tongue. “Ohh, fuck, that feels good!” I pulled his butt wider apart, digging my fingers between his buns to stretch his hole open. I could see the velvety-soft inner lining palpitating anxiously. I flicked the hole then drove my tongue inside him. “AAAAaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ohhh….Ohh, Goddd…holy shit, man, what’re you fuckin’ doing! Ohh, Geezusss…”

I gave him a run for his money, non-stop, till he was a blithering idiot then I stopped abruptly. “Turn over on your back and pull your legs up against your chest,” I told him. He quickly obliged. I lay gazing at his clenching hole, wet with my spit. I flicked at it and he trembled. I licked it and he groaned. I tongued him and he nearly screamed. I wanted to use my fingers and get in contact with his prostate but I thought it too risky. To John Brocker, a finger up his ass would be too much like getting fucked. I had it in my mind to make him cum with my tongue and I wanted to make him shoot all over himself. He was thrashing his butt around, moaning and choking and squealing with pleasure. The way he begged me to get my tongue in deeper, maybe I could’ve used a finger or two but I didn’t take the chance. I was driving him crazy with just my tongue, making it so good that maybe he would welcome my finger next time. All I had to do was get my finger on his prostate and I would have him.

“Awwhhh, you gotta stop!” he gasped. “Ohh, fuck, you gotta stop before I cum. Mannn… ohhhh, shit…ohhhhh, stop…stop…it’s too good!”

“No,” I said. “I want to drive you over the top.” He didn’t stop me so I fluttered my tongue around inside his soft ass to bring him over the top. He was close; it wouldn’t take much. Suddenly, his asshole spasmed around my tongue and I knew he was cumming. He choked on his cries, unable to beg me to stop. I tilted his hips higher, bending him in half. He was in a frenzy. He was incoherent. He was cumming. The set of muscles that propelled his load out of his body were powerful, like the rest of him. “Awwwhhhhh,” he moaned. “Awww, fuck, man…cumming all over myself,” he whined. I tilted him higher and his cries were suddenly muffled and I knew he was shooting all over his face and probably got some in his mouth. I hoped so. I held him bent in half till he tightened his abs to propel himself straight. He instinctively sucked in air and suddenly jumped up and rushed to the bathroom. I saw his cum streaming down his face and neck and his chest.

The water turned on and I heard him gagging and spitting. I sat on my own bed with my back against the headboard. I didn’t know what the next few minutes would bring--possibly his wrath for what I had done to him. Much to my surprise he came out of the bathroom laughing. “Fuckin’ shot in my mouth,” he said. “Geezuss, that stuff tastes like shit. How do you take it?”

“It’s a matter of taste,” I said.

“You can have it,” he said. “Shit, I can’t believe you made me cum without even touching my cock.”

“That usually gets them every time,” I said.

“I didn’t even know guys had feelings in their ass.”

“More than you know,” I said. I only hoped I would have the chance to show him.

One night after a game we had eaten supper in a small café, straight off the field then went back to our rooms to shower. He was lying on his bed, naked, when I came out of the shower, drying off. I walked over to the window to look out, with my back to him. “Whew!” he whistled softly. I glanced over my shoulder.

“I’ve noticed guys’ butts before…you know…bodybuilder butts…but never like I’m noticing yours right now,” he said, boldly looking at my naked body. He’d never looked at me like that before, so bold.

“Giving you any ideas?” I asked cockily.

“Should it?” he asked.

“Could your ego handle fucking a fag?” I said jokingly.

“Okay, I deserved that,” he said. “Seriously, do you fuck?”

“Yes.” “Can you take this?” he said, fisting his cock.

“I’ll sure as hell try,” I said. “Fuck, man, let’s do it,” he said excitedly.

I went into the bathroom and got myself ready, adding the final touch after I had lubed up my ass, by spraying some good-smelling body splash all over my body.

“Fuck, you smell good,” he said when I came out of the bathroom I handed him the lube and he stood off the bed and squeezed some on his cock. I took his place on the bed on my back, my legs spread in welcome. I figured John would want me on my back, like he would fuck a woman. He crooked his arms under my knees and pulled me to the edge of the bed and laid my legs on his shoulders. He set his knees in the mattress and aimed his cock at my ass. I felt it spread my butt apart, burrowing between my buns till it was pressing against my hole. “Take it easy till I get used to it,” I told him.

“Sure. Is this the biggest cock you ever had?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you can take it?”

“Yes, if it kills me,” I said.

He was good about working me up to it. He worked his cock back and forth against my asshole, stretching the network of muscles around it, pushing my asshole in without bursting through it. He had me feeling good but I wished he would use his fingers first to get me warmed up and stretched. He had huge fingers; that in itself would be like getting fucked. It hit me hard when the head of his cock popped through my hole.

“UUuuunnhhhhnnnnnnnn!” I groaned.

“That’s gotta be hell, but you wanted it,” he said and he didn’t stop. He buried about half of his cock in my guts before he began encountering obstacles. He probed and poked and I winced with pain.

“I guess that’s as far as we go,” he said.

“No. All the way,” I said.

“It ain’t gonna go all the way. I hit something.”

“Work around it,” I said, twisting my butt around to assist him.

He probed at different angles and a smile came across his face as his cock moved past the obstacles and went deeper. The girth of his cock was the hardest to take. He stretched me so that I had to hope my asshole would close back up. By the time he got done, it would be loose and stretched enough to drive a Mack truck up inside me. Half way in he started fucking me. He was afraid to give me all twelve inches. It felt good and I appreciated his concern, but I wanted it all. Even I didn’t know how I was going to handle it, where it was all going to fit, but I was determined to have his balls smacking against my butt when he fucked me.

“You’ve got a tight ass,” he said. “And hot.”

“It gets hotter the deeper you go,” I said.

“You really want all twelve inches?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He began fucking me deeper till he hit a barrier deep inside me. It felt strangely good, even through the pain and I could tell it wasn’t some obstacle he could work around. It was a place nobody had ever touched before. Maybe it was the bottom of my ass. He slid his cock back out of me then back in till he hit the barrier again. Finding his depth, he started a rhythm. There was no particular technique or finesse with John. For him it was a matter of pumping his massive cock in and out of my stretched hole. Pretty soon he was picking up the pace. “Slow down,” I said. “You gotta take it easy.” “Sorry, I only know one way to fuck; hard and fast. You said you wanted all of it.”

As much as I wanted this, I was still a little worried about him tearing my ass apart. “Just let me get a little more used to it,” I said. He was banging the head of his cock against the drum head till it was feeling less and less uncomfortable, on the way to feeling good. I just knew there was something on the other side of that barrier that would feel damned good and I wanted to know what was back there. I held him tight to my body and when he probed deep and ground the barrier against the head of his cock. “I’m hitting something in there. Is that what’s hurting?”

“It’s a strange sort of hurt,” I said.

“I’ve got something that’ll help.” He reached over and got a bottle of poppers that I didn’t know was there. “You ever tried this?” he said, uncapping the bottle.

“Yeah, but it makes me loose my hardon,” I said.

“We’re not worrying about your hardon,” he said, holding the bottle to my nose. I didn’t argue with him. John Brocker wasn’t a man you argued with when he was looming over you with all those muscles and his massive cock buried in your ass. You succumbed and pretty much did what he said. I sucked in the poppers till my head started to spin.

“Okay, give me some more,” I said, as the stuff began to take over my body. John held the bottle out to me again. “No, more of your cock,” I said.

He complied happily, pushing another inch or so in me, stretching the drum-head barrier. I ground my butt down on it and all of a sudden his cock broke through. Suddenly I was seeing stars and my toes curled. The sensation was incredible. I’d never felt so damned full in my life. It was almost overwhelming. I wanted all of him now. I wanted him to fill me with his huge cock till I felt it in my throat. He picked up on it and slid the rest of his meat deep inside me. When I felt his balls against my ass I shuddered, knowing I had al twelve inches inside me. Not that there was any doubt. His cock slid back and forth through the second sphincter a couple of times and it was almost more than I could take. He sensed that, too, and started to pull back. “Leave it in,” I begged.

“No problem,” he said, pounding his cock deeper. I held him tight while he wrenched his cock around in my butt, stretching the sphincter-barrier that he’d opened up. The fullness of his cock made me really want to get fucked.

“Fuck me,” I told him.

“Gladly.” He complied again. Taking longer and longer strokes, he dragged my guts out with his up stroke and rearranged them again with his down stroke. He opened the second sphincter wide, exposing a pleasure I’d never known before. The sensation of him tearing through me was like an itch that was scratched every time the bulbous head tore back and forth through the deepest hole. Within a few minutes, I was his, totally and completely. I was his moaning, whimpering whore. He was plunging the entire twelve-inch length of his cock in and out of my ass. Added to that, my prostate was being worked over with each thrust, forcing cock honey out of me in a steady boiling stream. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to out last him. He was just too fuckin’ good. I let nature take its course. I surrendered completely to the big stud who had taken control of me. When he picked up the pace to a balls-to-the-wall fuck I knew I was going to spew. A couple minutes later my body shuddered with the onset of a massive orgasm.

“Getting close?” he asked.

“I can’t stop it.” I moaned. “God, it’s just too fuckin good! I’m gonna cum!”

“Goddam, you are so tight and hot. I’m gonna loose it too,” he gasped.

“Fuck me, awwww, fuck me,” I screamed as my orgasm hit and I snapped. Volley after volley of hot cum shot out of my quivering cock. It was so hot it almost burned, and so thick it felt like it was having trouble being spurted out. My entire asshole undulated around the rutting rod that filled me so completely.

“Oh god, I’m fuckin’ cumming in your ass!”

“Give it to me Brocker,” I yelled.

I felt six or eight strong spurts of cum flood my entrails before he stopped cumming. When it was over he seemed in a trance. Every few seconds, his hips would jam his cock as deep as it could go, like spasms. Finally when he was cooled off enough to regain his senses he slowly pulled his mammoth meat out of me. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Are you?”

“Yeah, I think so. Tell you in a minute.”

“I don’t know what the fuck happened to me,” I said.

“You mean way up inside of you?”

“Yeah.”

“I felt it too. It was like I was fucking two assholes.”

“I didn’t even know I had a second one, but then nobody’s ever gone that deep before to discover my second asshole,” I said.

“Glad I could oblige. I really liked that dick dance you did for me.”

“Dick dance?”

“Yeah, when I was popping in and out of that second hole you turned into a little nymphomaniac, groaning and grunting and dancing around on my cock. It was like fucking a ring of fire.”

“It was like getting fucked by a stallion,” I said.

“I don’t believe I’m saying this…me, John Brocker…but that was the best fuck I’ve ever hard, bar none. And all the rest were women.”

“See what you missed out on by hating fags?” I chided him.

“Hey, I haven’t changed my position about fags, just about you,” he said.

“Well, that’s a start,” I said.

To say I was in love with John Brocker would have been a misstatement, if not a grave mistake. I was growing awfully fond of him, but he was so macho-straight, I wouldn’t permit myself to even think about any stronger emotions. Suffice to say, I was the happiest, most contended and satisfied man on the planet. He and I became more than team mates. We became closer than friends. The other guys noticed it, too. I was like we had known each other all our lives. Certainly, he felt safe and comfortable being himself around me. More than once, we fell asleep in the same bed and he didn’t get all freaked out if he woke up and found me with my leg or arm thrown across him. It was hard to imagine; only weeks earlier, he would have killed me if I even looked at him cross-eyed, let alone touched him.

We woke up one morning in some motel..I didn’t even remember the name of the town…and I was snuggled against him and he had his arm under my head for a pillow. My face was practically in his armpit. His chest was still encrusted with dried cum. I slipped out of bed to go take a piss. We needed ice, too, so I slipped on my jeans and got the ice bucket. I was down at the ice machine at the end of the hall, when Kevin Larson came out of his room from way down at the other end of the hall. He was dressed in cut-offs and a T-shirt and sneakers. He had a sly, almost mischievous grin on his face.

“What’re you doing up and dressed so early,” I asked. That little smile remained on his face. “What the hell are you smiling about so fuckin’ early?” I growled.

He shrugged. We exchanged small talk.

“Hey, you seem to be getting along real well with Brocker,” he remarked.

“He’s not such a bad guy when you get to know him,” I said.

“I guess you know him pretty well, huh?”

“Well, you can’t room with a guy and not get to know him.”

“Does he still hate fags?” Kevin asked.

“We don’t discuss politics,” I replied smartly.

“Well, listen…when he goes back to the majors, I would like to room with you,” he said.

I was a bit taken aback but I nodded and said, “I got no problem with it.”

“I’ll bet you don’t.” His smile broadened and the corner of his lip sort of curled up.

“What’re getting at?” I asked with a scowl.

“Oh, nothing; I went out to the van to get something and passed by your window. Your curtains are cracked. I saw you all snuggled up with the big stud fag-hater.”

I felt my face blanch as the blood drained from my head, making me light headed. I couldn’t think. Not a damn thing came to mind to say. Suddenly I turned and rushed back to my room. John was awake. I was so shaken that the ice bucket rattled when I set it down. I was having to suck my breath in.

“What’s the hell’s wrong?” John asked.

I was barely able to get my words out. “Larson saw us in bed together,” I said as I rushed over and closed the small crack in the blinds.

“Where is he?” John asked as he jumped out of bed and grabbed his jeans.

“Down at the ice machine.”

John rushed out the door, bare-chested and barefoot. I stood there in stunned silence as the door swung part way closed. I went to the door to listen. I didn’t show myself.

“Hey, Brocker,” Kevin greeted him. He was apparently on his way back, for they were close to the door.

“Listen, limp-dick, if you breath so much as a hint about what you think you saw…not now, not ever…I’ll break you into little pieces and throw you under the bus. Got it?”

“Yeah…yeah, I got it,” Kevin said in a wear, wavering voice. “Hey, it’s none of my fuckin’ business.”

“That’s right. It’s none of your fuckin’ business and it’s gonna stay my business. Goddam, I hope you understand what I’m saying, because you do not want to see me get violent. It’s not a pretty sight. And no matter what, I will find you.”

“I got it, John,” he assured him.

I stepped away from the door seconds before John came back in. “That’s taken care of,” he said.

“Yeah, I heard,” I said. I was still shaking.

John came over and wrapped his powerful arms around me and hugged me tightly to his massive chest. God, he felt good, our bare muscles writhing together. “Calm down, don’t worry about it. He’s not going to say anything. We just have to be more careful.”

I felt myself relaxing in his embrace. Suddenly he ground his crotch against mine and chuckled softly. “Now, don’t I get a reward for coming to your rescue?” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Anything you want,” I said. His face was so close, tilted down at just the right angle and I thought for a moment that he might kiss me. I almost kissed him. I was glad I didn’t. He stepped back and unbuttoned his jeans, glancing at his watch. “How about we skip breakfast?”

“I’ve got all I can eat right here,” I said, groping his heavy manhood.

He sat on the bed to pull off his jeans then laid back, his legs spread wide. “Come and chow down,” he said. I dropped to my knees beside the bed and lay between his legs. “The first time you did this, you said next time you were going to take me all the way,” he reminded me. “Just don’t get hard too quick,” I said. I lifted his rubbery cock off his balls and sucked it into my mouth. I would have to work fast, because he was going to get hard fast. I opened my throat as relaxed as I could and forced the head of his cock through the opening.

“Ohhhh,” he gasped with surprise. “You’re gonna do it!”

Along with the pressure, I swallowed, my throat muscles pulling his cock deeper and deeper in my throat. I was making good progress but his cock was getting bigger and harder by the second and I had about five inches to go. I didn’t know where the hell it was all going but I didn’t care if it ended up in my lungs. I forced my mouth down the shaft as my lips became more and more distended around the wide girth. With a good two inches remaining, I was near panic with the prospect of defeat.

“Fuck, man, don’t stop…you’re gonna do it,” John said hoarsely, and he put his hands around my head and forced me to success. His cock bored up into my throat the final two inches and my face was smashed against his pubes, my chin against his balls. “Fuckin’ AAAAA. Awwwhhhh, this is a record! This is phenomenal!” he cried softly as he ground his butt muscles in the mattress to move his cock within my throat.

I held him as long as I could but the size of his cock squeezed off all air passages and I had to breathe. I rose up off of his cock, slowly, carefully. It was such a tight fit I was afraid he would turn my throat inside out. The head finally popped back through my throat opening, into my mouth. I rose up, wiping my eyes, swallowing to make sure my throat still worked. “Goddam!” I swore.

“Shit, nobody’s ever done that,” he said.

“I’m the first one to try,” I said.

“Oh, fuck! Thanks!”

“Don’t thank me. I can’t take it when you’re hard. I can’t suck it all the way in my throat.”

“I just want to remember that couple of minutes when you did,” he said. “God, I almost freaked out when I looked down and my cock was gone! Hey, I didn’t hurt you throat, did I?”

“It might be sore for awhile,” I said.

There wasn’t a hint of evidence that Larson said anything to any of the rest of the players. He was a little skittish around Brocker, though, although he tried not to show it. The season ended and we were due to head back home. We celebrated the last night in a little town in Missouri. Coach broke the rules and told John he could come along. The happening place was a small pub called Jimmy’s Place. The patrons welcomed us like heroes even though we had beaten their team. There weren’t enough women to go around and most of those were practically climbing all over Brocker. He was in his element. I was feeling down because I figured I would be spending our last night on somebody’s floor. If John took those women back to our room, he was going to be busy all night. There were a couple of women who made it know that they were interested in me. John saw it and he came down the bar and smacked my butt and leaned over to whisper in my ear.

“You wanta take two or three of these chicks back to our room and trade back and forth?” I was jolted with excitement from the suggestion but I quickly declined. I wasn’t sure I could perform with a woman in John’s presence. He was so damned intimidating and I was afraid I couldn’t stand up next to him. I didn’t want the humiliation.

“Naw, you can have the room, though,” I said, saddened that I had just thrown the night away. I was shocked when John came over to me again and told me he was going back to the room. “How many women are you taking with you?” I asked.

“None. I’m just going back,” he said.

I was suddenly uplifted again. Was he going back empty-handed so we could spend the last night together? “I’ll go with you,” I said, quickly downing my beer. We took a cab out to the motel. Inside our room, John went over and made sure the curtains were completely closed. I was encouraged. He rummaged around in his bag and brought out a small box.

“Here, I got you something,” he said. I scowled with surprise. It was an underwear box; the very muscular model was wearing a jockstrap. I opened the box and took out the jock. I was so touched I started to well up. Then I shook it out and there was his autograph sewn into the pouch. “A John Brocker original,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

“Well, it’s something to remember me by,” he said. “You’ve got my name right there around your cock.”

“As if I could ever forget you,” I said.

“Put it on,” he said as he started taking off his clothes.

“Why didn’t you take advantage of the opportunity to have an orgy with those women?” I asked as I started stripping.

“I wanted to spend the last night with you,” he said. “All those women put together couldn’t make feel like you do.”

“Careful, you’re going to be laying off of women for good,” I joked. I pulled the jock on and arranged my manhood inside. His signature spread diagonally across the pouch.

“Looks good,” he said as he casually slipped his fingers inside the waistband and gave it a heft upward. “Hey, maybe I could market those,” he said. “Do you think there are guys out there who pay, say twenty bucks, to stuff their cock into a John Brocker jockstrap?”

“More than you know,” I said.

“Maybe I’ll do it. Set up a website.” he eyed me. “Fuck, you look good in that,” he said. “I want to fuck you. I won’t be so rough, ‘cause I wanta fuck you all night long. I want to pop that drum head wide open.” I was ready. I started to take the jockstrap off. “Leave it on,” he said. “It won’t be in the way. I wanta fuck a jock.”

“You have to save one load for me,” I said.

“Save it for what?”

“To take with me,” I said. “I wanta suck your cock and when you get close, slip a condom on and let you cum in it. I can take a load home with me.”

“What the hell are you going to do with a condom full of my cum? It’s gonna get pretty rank pretty quick.”

“I don’t know…I just want it. And I can keep the condom.”

“Hey, you can have all the condoms you want. I’ll use ‘em on you if you want me to, then you can have ‘em. Hell, we might fill one completely.”

“One? We’ll need a quart jar if I’m going to save all of it,” I said.

There were no pretenses, no inhibitions. He said he wanted to fuck me and that all it was. The only emotions would be what we made each other feel in the process. I knew it wasn’t love, it was sex. I lubed up my ass and squeezed some lube on his fingers. “Front or back?” I asked.

“Any way you want it,” he said. “I intended to have you in every position known to man, and then make up some of my own.”

“God, they’re going to have to carry me out of here on a stretcher tomorrow morning,” I said. After breakfast I walked to the bus under my own power but there was a terrible emptiness in inside me; an emptiness that extended beyond my ass. He had filled me with something more than his cock and I was going to miss it terribly. We tossed our bags in the luggage compartment and found our seats. John led the way clear to the back of the bus and took the seat by the window. He patted the seat next to him for me to sit down. It was going to be a long drive. All day and well into the night. We settled in for the trip. The noise calmed to quiet conversation after about the first twenty miles. Then guys just sat and looked out the window, or dozed off to sleep. John and I talked between ourselves, about his career, how he got there, about his high school career and his many failed love affairs. “I can’t seem to keep a good woman,” he said.

“What the hell do you need a woman for when you’ve got your pick of hundreds?” I asked. “Figure it out John, no woman is going to want to settle down with you as long as you’re playing baseball. Shit, with your reputation, any woman knows she can’t compete, and she sure as hell can’t trust you.”

“Yeah, baseball marriages don’t seem to last long,” he admitted. We stopped for lunch, stretched our legs and resumed the journey. We started the last leg of the journey after supper, about 8:00, when the sun was going down. John lay back in the seat with his knees against the back of the seat in front of him. He was crowded. I pushed my seat back and closed my eyes. It was enough, because it had to be, to be sitting beside the big stud. After awhile he dropped his left leg and his knee fell against mine. I didn’t move away and neither did he. A stark difference from when the season began when we sat down in a booth in that restaurant and he jerked his knee away.

I was startled to feel a slight pressure against my knee. I gave some pressure back and John cocked his head around and grinned at me. The pressure kept up and he began rising and lowering his foot, rubbing his knee against mine. I boldly put my hand on his thigh. He didn’t move or even flinch. He flexed his thigh muscle. I squeezed the muscle and he flexed it again. I drew my hand up his thigh to his crotch. It was full and rubbery hard. Things advanced rather quickly and John undid his jeans and pulled his fly open. I shoved my hand down inside his shorts and got a handful of man meat. His cock pulsated in my hand. He was getting a hardon and it was going to be contained in those shorts. My mind raced with some way to go down on him. I could jack him off, but he would spray the fuckin’ bus when he shot off. Suddenly, he brought his other leg down and leaned up over the back of the seat.

“Hey, numb-nuts, how about you move up front so I can lay my legs over the back of the seat,” he told the guy in front of him. Without a word, Tony Bright got up and moved several seats forward. There were four empty seats in front of us, and nobody was sitting to the side. We were essentially alone in the back of the bus. John laid his seat back and cocked his legs up over the back of the seat. He reached over and got my hand and placed it on his cock. I felt around to find that he had shoved his shorts and jeans down to his knees! Everything was hanging bare. I wrapped my hand around his cock. He put his hand over mine and moved it up my arm and shoulder, urging me to move out of my seat. The only place I could go was on my knees on the floor of the bus between John’s thighs. There’s wasn’t much room between the seats and my head was back against his jeans. He reached up and shoved them down a little more. I wondered what the hell we would do if anybody came back there. As I squeezed into the small space on my knees, I didn’t care. I drank in the aroma of his maleness, mixed with the good-smelling body splash. His cock loomed up over my face. I sucked on his balls. He looked out the window and put his hand over his mouth to quiet his groans.