A Football Player's Cocksucker

by Lewdchirps

15 Jul 2017 12691 readers Score 9.0 (161 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


I could still remember the taste.

I would roll it back and forth in my head, how salty and tangy it was. It was... delicious, in a sense. Not the kind of delicious that you would get from coconut macaroons, or from eating dinner after accidentally missing lunch. But there was still something incredibly... satisfying about it.

I still remembered the way it pulsed in my mouth, how it throbbed, swelling up inside of me. It hurt, oh, it hurt. I couldn't deny that. It was stretching my throat out, and I couldn't breath, but it also felt amazing, like a song inside my mouth.

My own cock stiffened in response to my thoughts, telling me that it was time to act on those thoughts. I pressed down on it because I was in the middle of class and it definitely was no time to listen to those thoughts.

"Hey, man, you okay?" my friend Dwayne said, elbowing me in the side. I flushed. I had been fidgeting in the seat like a child who needed to go to the bathroom, but I wanted something that no child ever needed.

I grunted and nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine."

I couldn't believe I had done that. It was only a couple nights ago, and everything that had happened had yet to truly sink in. Did I really suck off Brandon the football player? Did I really kneel in front of him and put his cock in my mouth and sucked him until he blew his load down my throat? It didn't seem real, except for how I remembered every single agonizing second of that event. I could remember how dark it was outside, the heavy smell of the lake that we had just been swimming in, the even heavier smell of his musk that surrounded his crotch like a thick blanket that I all but dove head-first into.

But having that kind of lapse of judgment wasn't really like me. Sure, I was an idiot college guy just like the rest of them, but my idiocy extended to stay up too late before tests the next day, not getting drunk and putting my mouth on other guy's penises. I wasn't that kind of stupid.

I wanted to tell myself that it was only just a one-time thing, but, depressingly, I hoped that it wasn't a one-time thing. I wanted it to happen again, I wanted to put my mouth on his dick again. I wanted to feel it again, I wanted to swallow it again. It tasted so amazing.

But I don't think he even knew what my name was. I didn't know if he did that a lot. Was he the kind of person to just... demand blowjobs like that from random people? He was certainly attractive enough that he could get a handful of girls ready to drop to their knees for him, and, I've learned, at least one guy. It felt wrong, though, almost manipulative. How did I get myself set up in that kind of situation?

It shouldn't happen again, I told myself. If he asked me--no, even better, I'd make sure that I wasn't in a situation to even face that choice. That's right, I wasn't going to get drunk with him and see him naked and then be outside with him alone in the dark where we had loads of privacy.

Yeah, something like that should be incredibly easy to avoid, right?

~

I groaned and rubbed my face. Dwayne gave me another weird look.

"You've been acting kinda weird lately," he said after class as we walked to the cafeteria for lunch. "Ever since..."

I quietly prayed that he couldn't pinpoint it to when and so he wouldn't ask any questions.

"Yanno, I think ever since that party, to be honest."

Dammit.

"Did something happen?" he asked. "I know you were still at the Sigmas--"

I quickly interrupted him, "Actually, I'd gone home."

"What!" he said. "We were having some much fun! Michael beat one of the football guys as beer pong."

Michael wasn't the brightest bulb in the box. The idea of him managing to beat anyone at beer pong, sober or not, was pretty funny. "All that trash can basketball finally paid off, huh?" I said.

Dwayne laughed. "That's true. But you should have seen it! It was awesome. The dude he beat was so pissed off he wanted us all out of the house."

"Is that why the house was so empty?" I asked.

"What! No, we didn't take everyone with us." Dwayne stroked his chin. "I thought you went home?"

"Uh, after everyone left."

Dwayne looked puzzled. "Eh, whatever." He waved a hand dismissively. That was less of a lie. Not everyone was gone when I left. The interesting ones remained. The cute ones. With big cocks.

My mouth watered, and I licked my lips to keep everything inside.

"So, did something happen?" Dwayne asked again.

Dammit, I was hoping he'd forgotten. "Like what?" I asked.

"Don't give me that shit, just... anything. Did you meet a girl or something?"

A girl, yeah. Brandon was cute like a girl. Well, not in the same was as a girl, but there was a cuteness about him that was very--no, it was like, there were girls who were cute, and Brandon who was cute, but they weren't really the same, but they were also kind of...

"Hello?" Dwayne mimed answering his phone. "Yes, 911, my friend's a total TARD."

I shoved him.

"Jeez, you really meet a girl, didn't you?" he asked.

"There was someone," I said hesitantly. I hated lying, but I hated even more anyone figuring out what was going on in my perverted little head. I wasn't sure how Dwayne would react to me just randomly blowing guys at parties. He was a bit more conservative with that kind of stuff. Hell, I thought I was more conservative than that, but apparently not.

We got to the cafeteria and swiped our meal cards. Today was loaded hot dog day, and I was pretty excited.

"Shit, what's she like?" Dwayne asked, loading up his hot dog with relish. I squirted mayo all over mine, much to his disgust.

"Dunno," I said. "Cute, kinda tall."

"I've always wanted to bang a tall chick," Dwayne said as we joined Michael at our normal table. "I know I'm only supposed to like chicks who're shorter than me, but, yanno, tall chicks?"

"Yeah, tall chicks," Michael echoed and glanced between us. "What're you talking about?"

"Matt met a tall chick at the party."

"What! No way, what's she like?"

I shrugged and lifted my hot dog to take a massive bite out of it, something long and thick, streaked with--

I froze and stared at my food, then shook my head. The hot dog definitely didn't just give me a flashback to...

God, I was like a war veteran.

I tried to take another bite, but there it was in front of me. What did it actually look like to see cum spurt out of the end of a dick? I knew what it looked like, I'd seen it on myself, and I'd seen it in porn, but I really wanted to see his, I wanted to see him come, I wanted to see his thick sour spunk shoot out of his cock and--

"Ketchup!" I coughed.

"What?" Michael said, perplexed. "Ketchup?"

"Yes, I need. Ketchup." I abruptly stood up. "Ketchup."

I marched off just in time to avoid hearing Dwayne complain about my horrid hot dog tastes.

My head was buzzing and my face felt hot and my pants got tight. Okay, I needed to calm myself down. In the first days after The Incident I was too flummoxed and confused to really think about what I had done. I was so wrapped up in how stupid I was acting and how I was going to regret it. But the more days that had passed the less my egregious stupidity bothered me. I figured a clearer head meant clearer thoughts, but instead it was just getting worse. I was seeing penises everywhere, including in my hot dog.

So I needed ketchup to put on my hot dog so that I could eat it like a hot dog instead of eating it like a penis. Plus a little walk around the cafeteria was what I needed to get my mind off--

Whumph.

I was so busy staring at my feet that I didn't even notice someone right in front of me.

I stumbled back, a little dazed. A hand clopped on my shoulder.

"You alright, Tiny?"

Oh, no.

I looked straight up into the face of the guy I blew last weekend.

"Ugh," I said brightly. He looked just as sweet as he did--

No. Nope.

"You better watch where you're--hey!"

I turned and marched right off. This was the exact opposite of getting my mind off things! I felt so volatile that I wouldn't put it past me to drop to my knees right there in the middle of the cafeteria, mouth open, demanding that he FEED ME.

I rushed back to my table and threw myself into the chair.

"Hey, guys!" I said casually.

They looked me over. "I thought you were getting ketchup?" Dwayne said.

I groaned. Right. Ketchup. I'd forgotten.

~

I didn't have classes that afternoon, so I planned to study with Dwayne and Michael before dinner, but instead I got a text message right as we left the cafeteria.

I frowned. I only ever texted Dwayne and Michael, and they were right here. Who in the hell was this?

The message was only three words long: "Come over. Now."

A flush flooded my body. It was from a phone number I didn't recognize, but for some reason I just knew. It was from him.

I swallowed. My entire body felt heavy, yet alive and brimming with energy. I stopped walking and stared at my phone. How could I know for sure that it was from him? If I went without verifying he could make fun of me. Hell, that might happen even if he did send it.

But if he had sent it and he was serious...

"Yo, you alright?" Dwayne asked.

"I just... gotta go," I said, stuffing my phone back into my pants.

"Whaaaat? How're we gonna team battle without you?"

Okay, so we weren't only going to study.

I shrugged.

"What's more important than shooting morons on the internet?" Michael asked.

"I just got a message, I need to go now."

"Message from who?"

"Th-the girl. I met at the party."

"Ooh," Dwayne said.

"The tall one?" Michael asked. Dwayne nodded.

"Fine," Dwayne said dismissively, "you are excused."

I nodded and rushed off.

As I walked over to the frat house I rehearsed what I was going to say: Look, we can't do this, this is a mistake, it was fun the first time, but--

No, I shouldn't say that it was fun, that'll make him think I want to do it again. I guess it was fun--

Okay, better, it's less committed. I got caught up in the moment--

Oh, jackpot. I got caught up in the moment. That would work. I got caught up in the moment, but it's not something I'd ever do again, and also how did you get my number because that's really weird.

I stood on the Sigma's collapsed front porch. I took a deep breath, and lifted my hand to knock.

"Just open it, it's unlocked."

I jumped. Someone was sitting inside at one of the front windows. A remedial math book was propped against the window screen. He stared at me, his eyes narrowed. I didn't recognize him from the past weekend.

"Uh, okay. Is... Brandon home?"

"Upstairs, in his room, third door on the left," he said and fanned himself with a paper fan.

I nodded, and let myself inside.

Somehow the place looked even worse than it did during the party. Sure, all the empty beer bottles were gone and there was no longer a tub of strange, unidentifiable alcoholic substances sitting next to the front door, but there were pizza boxes and textbooks scattered about the living room, along with notebooks and stains in the carpet. It was uncomfortably warm and humid inside.

"Sorry, the air conditioning's out," remedial math guy said, still fanning himself. "No one's had the strength to clean up."

That would make sense. I wouldn't have the strength to clean up either if I didn't have air conditioning.

My entire body pounded with the stress of confrontation. I was so distracted by remedial math guy that I had forgotten what I was going to say to Brandon. It was fun last weekend-- No, I wasn't going to say that, but I didn't remember why.

The third door on the left upstairs was decorated with giant paper 46s, Brandon's jersey number. I guessed this was the right place.

I knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Brandon called from inside.

"Ma--" I swallowed. Right, he probably didn't know my name. "Uh, Tiny?"

"Come in."

I walked in.

And let out a strangled gasp.

"Close the damn door," Brandon said. He was laying on his bed, stroking his cock, which was already hard. He drifted his fingertips up and down the underside, barely grazing it, and his cock would twitch in response.

I quickly shut the door and swallowed, staring at him hungrily.

"Hey," he said, still looking down at his cock.

"I-I--" My mouth was dry. It just looked so... "It was--I can't--" What was I going to say? "I didn't mean to," I eventually sputtered out.

"Hmm?" Brandon asked, completely disinterested, still lightly stroking his cock. My own was getting harder, begging me to go over and play.

"It was a mistake, I was drunk," I babbled.

"Are you drunk again, then? You're staring at me."

"Tchya..." I wiped away a bit of drool that was gathering at the corner of my mouth. "N--" Why was I drooling so much? This was ridiculous.

"You need something to wipe that up?" Brandon asked.

"No," I said in a little helpless voice. My knees felt weak and ready to give at any moment.

"It's right over here if you need it."

I couldn't stop myself. I stumbled across the room and fell to my knees next to the bed. It looked so much more magnificent in proper lighting, strong and sturdy and big, with veins pulsing along the side with his heartbeat.

"God," I moaned, and Brandon tilted it so that the little slit was directly facing me. I wasn't supposed to be doing this, I told myself. I was supposed to be telling him off, that I couldn't do it any more, I wasn't gay, I didn't like sucking cock, I...

I leaned forward and licked it. Brandon let out a little hiss in response, then muttered, "More."

And oh god I wanted more.

I leaned forward more so I could take more into my mouth. I got the head in and immediately my mouth filled with saliva, dripping down and around his head and onto the shaft. He grabbed my hand and put it on the rest of his cock and I sucked on it. Rushes of euphoria flooded my body, immediately making me dizzy and lightheaded.

"Yes, that's it," Brandon muttered, then reached off the bed and yanked at one of my legs. I took my mouth off his cock long enough to lay down next to him, my legs up near his head. Now with a better angle I could get more of his cock in my mouth.

The taste was like I remembered, except even better. He didn't taste like lake any more, and instead he tasted more like him, thick and musky. I moaned as I held it in my hands and ran my tongue over his head, dipping it into his slit. I put one hand at the base of his cock, thumb pressed against the bottom, and slowly worked it up, pushing out a little bubble of precum that I quickly slurped up. Brandon moaned in approval. God, just in one weekend I'd turned into a desperate little cocksucker. He didn't even have to say anything, didn't have to goad me into it at all. I just dropped to my knees in front of him and just swallowed him back up. I was even drinking up his cum! Willingly! There was no more shooting it down my throat, I was right there, forcing his precum into my mouth like I fucking wanted it!

"Put my balls in your mouth," he ordered. His big heavy balls were hanging below his cock, much bigger than mine, but I found I didn't care all that much. I got up on my knees so I could bend down and scoop one of them into my mouth. He hissed and spread his legs even wider as I gently rolled it over my tongue. It was hairy and soft. I took the other one in my mouth and pulled on it, just enough to get another moan out of him, before returning to what I really wanted: his cock.

"Remember what we did before?" Brandon muttered. For a second I was confused, but then he put his hand on the back of my head and forced it down over his cock. I took a deep breath and relaxed my throat, and his cockhead was poking at the back of my mouth. "There you go," Brandon muttered, and stabbed his dick at the back at my throat with little jabs until it popped back there. My cock jolted as his cockhead settled in the back of my throat.

He slowly pushed me all the way down on his cock until my nose was pressed against his pubic hair, right there next to his balls. He ground his hips into my face moaning softly, "Oh, so good," until I needed to breath and yanked myself off of him.

He was gasping, his face pink, as he looked down at me. He grabbed the front of my shirt and pushed me back down. "You know, I bet I found the perfect place for my cock. Where do you think that is?"

My mouth felt raw. I licked my lips.

"Don't be shy," he prompted again.

"My mouth?" I said quietly.

"Close. It's a nice warm place where it's always all nice and happy."

I swallowed. My own cock strained at the front of my pants.

"Show me where that place is."

I took his cock back in my mouth, and without any help on his part, relaxed my throat and let his cock back inside of it. Without him pushing me down it was harder, but I got all the way down.

"God, yes..." Brandon said, and grabbed either side of my head. "So nice," he grunted, and yanked his cock out of my throat. I tried to cough, but he shoved it back in before I could even get a breath. "And," he said again, then pulled out his cock. "Happy." He plunged his cock in again, grinding his hips against my face before letting me free.

I pushed myself off him, gasping for air and coughing, but he didn't give me any time to recover before grabbing my hair and forcing his cock back into my mouth. "Suck it off," he grunted and I sucked on him again, using my hands to stroke his shaft and to stop him from shoving it down my throat again. I was aching for air and my cock was aching for attention. He put a hand on the back of my head, keeping me there, running his thumb in little circles right behind my ear. I didn't know where his other hand was until it was between my legs.

I jumped. "Don't you dare stop sucking," Brandon ordered, pushing me back down. I whimpered. He squeezed the inside of my thigh through my pants, and slowly worked its way up. He cupped my junk and ran his hands up and down my cock until it peeked out from over the waistband of my pants. "This is making you hard, isn't it, you little faggot."

I whimpered, my hips jerking against his hand. I was struggling to get a rhythm, it all felt so overwhelming.

"I heard little faggots don't just like to suck cock..." Brandon muttered, and his hand drifted back, over my balls and to my ass. He held onto my hair, making sure I didn't move, and probed around for my asshole.

I grunted uncomfortably and tried to wiggle free, but he stopped me by holding onto my hair hard. "How would you feel about my cock inside your tight little ass?" he said, rubbing the spot.

A flush of heat ran through me. I'd never had anything anywhere near there, and I couldn't even imagine something the size of his cock inside of me.

Yet, yet...

"I bet you do, don't you," Brandon grunted, rubbing my asshole with his thumb and cupping my balls with his fingers. I couldn't help but grind my hips back against his hand, it just felt so good, and, I had to admit, his thumb on me wasn't terrible, just... different. Different and invasive and teasing, little tiny circles around it, trying to open it up, as if he was going to stick something inside of it right then and there.

I spread my legs apart, giving him more space to grope me. Suddenly I was pushing back against him with a fervor that I didn't know I had.

"Fucking faggot," Brandon gasped, thrusting his cock up into my mouth. "I bet you want me inside your ass, don't you, how would that feel, huh?" I moaned onto his cock and he gasped and thrust it up deeply, nearly popping into my throat again. "I want to feel you squeezing my cock with your ass..." He gently tugged on my balls as he rubbed my asshole. My cock, pinned up against my stomach by my pants, throbbed painfully. "I'd come deep inside you..."

I whimpered. With his cock in my mouth and his hand back there, I couldn't control myself. My hips twitched and jerked, and suddenly I was coming, shooting out onto my stomach and the inside of my shirt. 

"God, I feel that," Brandon moaned, rubbing my balls, then he let out a hiss. "I'm gonna come in your throat," he muttered, then grabbed my head and forced it all the way down until his cock was in my throat again, and his cock swelled and he came, emptying his balls in my throat. I grabbed the base of his cock, pressing into the underside and stroking upwards to make sure I got every last drop.

"How would you feel about all that in your ass," Brandon said breathlessly, and his hand immediately moved back to its spot between my legs. I gasped, yanking myself off his cock and arching my back, still rubbing my ass against his hand. Even after coming I was still rolling with erotic energy, as if I was ready to bend over and take him right there.

"Mmm," Brandon hummed staring up at me hungrily. "I know where I always want to come."

I flushed, one so deep it easily wormed its way down over my chest. The taste of his spunk still coated the back of my throat, and my face was a mess. I tried to wipe it away with the back of my hand, but that just smeared it around.

I guess that answered whether I was going to suck him off again. So much for standing up for myself.

by Lewdchirps

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