A Football Player's Cocksucker

There was another football game. Our team won, naturally.

The football players gathered together in the middle of the field and bumped chests and yelled at each other in fits of hypermasculinity, and I loved every ridiculous second of it. I didn't quite love the cheerleaders that quickly surrounded them, with their bouncing skirts and waving pompoms, and I had to remind myself that Brandon was gay, very gay, and wouldn't be interested in them no matter how many pompoms they waved in his face.

Speaking of, I studied the numbers until I spotted 46 near the back of the crowd. Brandon tore off his helmet and scanned the crowds. When he caught my eye he smirked and touched his forehead in a salute. I grinned and waved the little flag I was holding in response. His gaze lingered on me probably longer than was appropriate, but at that moment I didn't care. It was great that after a game he would look for me out of all things.

Huh, maybe I should go look for him afterwards...

I shook my head. No, they'd probably go out somewhere in celebration of a decisive win or something. He wouldn't want to see me when he had Outback Steakhouse to go to instead.

But as I filtered out of the stadium along with Michael and Dwayne and the rest of the football fans I got a text from him.

*Come over. Now.*

I blinked at it, perplexed. Right this second? For a second I considered calling him up and asking what the deal was. They'd just won a game! Certainly the college had enough money to spring for burgers to congratulate them.

But it would be weird to call him up. I mean, calling people was fine, but me calling Brandon was weird.

I told Michael and Dwayne I had something to take care of, and they winked at me and waved me off. I rolled my eyes. Sometimes I wish they didn't know because they sure were annoying about it.

It was awfully quiet on Greek street, especially for right after a football game. It got even spookier as I climbed the ladder to Brandon's room and found it empty. I hesitated outside the window. It was unlocked so I could easily let myself inside, but I wasn't sure if I was allowed to. Being alone in his room was straight-up weird. I bit my lip. Maybe I should just hang out on the porch? No, I didn't want to do that, either. Someone might ask what the hell I was doing there.

Someone might come into Brandon's room and ask what I was doing there, too. I smirked. I'd just tell them that I was there to blow Brandon for his great performance. Refuge in audacity.

I chuckled and pressed my forehead against the cool window pane. Well, I sure as hell wasn't going to wait on this stupid ladder all day.

I wedged my fingertips in underneath the edge of the window.

Brandon burst in through his door. "Shit!" I hissed and clammered for the ladder before I fell.

Brandon spotted me through the window and marched on over.

"Who's creeping out there!" he yellowed and threw open the window. He had a great big goofy smile plastered across his flushed face, and his sweat-streaked hair stuck to his forehead. He smelled like grass and unwashed football uniforms.

I started to climb in through the window but Brandon all but picked me up and carried me in. I flushed as he plopped me onto the floor. How on earth did I forget just how much stronger he was than I was? He was only about four inches taller than I was, five if I was being generous.

Brandon took off his jersey and threw it into his hamper. I couldn't stop myself from staring hungrily as he raised his arms over his head in a big stretch. His undershirt lifted off the waistband of his pants, revealing a bit of that happy trail that descended down under the fabric. I bit my lip as he twisted and contorted. I could watch that all day. Sure, he wasn't that much taller, but he was certainly broader in so many good ways.

"That was *amazing*!" Brandon said in a husky groan. "Did you see me in the second half?"

I chuckled. "Yeah," I said, unable to find any good words. He was so excited, and it definitely had an equally exciting effect on me. "You were..."

"Ah, man! That was amazing!" He grabbed me and kissed me hard. I was too startled to properly respond. This kissing thing was still really weird.

"I thought you guys would, like, go out or something," I said, unconsciously wiping my mouth. "With your team."

"Yeah, after we showered!" He scoffed. "You think anyone's gonna want us coming if we smell like this?"

I raised a brow. "You don't need me for a shower," I said.

"Wanna shower together?"

I blinked at him, and slowly wrapped my arms around myself. "What?"

"You wanna shower together? Everyone else is showering in the locker rooms, there's no one around, the house is empty..." He grabbed my hips and danced at me, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

I stepped back and tightened my arms. "Uh. No."

He stared at me, confused. "Why?" he asked. "I thought you'd want to."

"Why'd you think that?"

"Because we just had a great victory, and I thought you'd want to give me a little victory present while no one else was around..." He waggled his eyebrows again. A chuckled escaped out of my tight lips.

"Then go shower and come back," I said and gestured quickly before fixing my arm back around myself. "I'll be here."

"I mean *in* the shower. It'd be fun!"

I shook my head. "No," I repeated.

"Why? It's not weird to shower together."

"It's not that..." I was getting annoyed. "Just shower and come back."

Brandon stared at me with narrowed eyes, studying me, and tentatively crossed his arms in a mirror of mine. He chuckled and dropped his arms. "I've already seen you naked," he said.

I flushed. "When was that!"

"At the party."

"What par-"

The words died in my mouth. Oh, *that* party. The party where I drank a whole bunch of that gross monstrosity and ended up practically naked in a hot tub full of other football players-

I turned bright red. "That's-that's different!" I stammered.

"Why?"

"Because we weren't... you know, whatever we're doing now!"

"So if we weren't sleeping together you'd be okay with me seeing you naked," Brandon said.

I scoffed.

"Or was it because you were drunk?" Brandon asked.

"I'm going," I said and headed for the window.

"I don't care, you know," Brandon said.

I swallowed. My hand was already on the window.

"Look, man, I already know what you look like, it's not going to be, like, some big surprise," he said.

"You don't get it," I muttered.

"What?"

"You're, like, jacked," I muttered. "You're buff and hot."

Brandon chuckled and actually had the audacity to turn a little pink. "You think I'm hot?"

My face burned. "Shut up!" I snapped.

"I just... want to see you naked! I want to be naked with you! Is you... wearing a shirt all the time part of the deal now?"

"I..." It felt so stupid and petty now. It was just a fucking shirt. He already had his dick in my ass. It was a little late to start drawing arbitrary lines.

"C'mon. Please," he said.

I wrapped my arms around myself. "But I'm scrawny."

Brandon groaned and rolled his eyes. "I've slept with girls scrawnier than you," he whined.

"You're really shitty at being a gay guy," I muttered.

"And you're... really shitty at being a depraved faggot, what's your point?"

"You're a bigger faggot than I am," I snapped.

He flinched subtly, but quickly regained his composure. "I outweigh you by a hundred pounds," he said with a smirk, "of course I am."

I glared at him. He sniggered.

"C'mon," he repeated. He grabbed my wrist and lead me to the bed. He kissed me hard, leaning into me so hard I fell onto the bed. I giggled hesitantly as he crawled on after me and picked at the edge of my shirt.

He caught my lips in one of those blisteringly passionate kisses of his, which took me so off-guard that my tight-laced grip on my arms loosened enough for him to slide his hand up my shirt. His hand was hot on my stomach as it inched its way upward and nudged my arms down and out of the way. He only broke off the kiss long enough to pull the body of my shirt over my head. He had to fight with my arms to get the damn thing all the way off me, but he did so patiently and tossed my shirt off to the side.

He ran his hands over my chest and I trembled, sinking into his touch even further. He could easily see how scrawny I was now, and my equally-scrawny arms wasn't hiding me now. It didn't stop me from trying, though.

Brandon rid me of my pants and pushed me down onto the bed. He winked at me, then pulled off his undershirt and his pants until he was just as naked as I was, then straddled me. I couldn't meet his eye so I stared at some distant spot over his shoulder.

"Mmm," he hummed and pressed a hand onto my stomach. I couldn't cover both my stomach and my chest, and my whimpy pectorals had priority.

"What?" I muttered.

"I like looking at you."

I grunted and looked away. A wave of heat rose up my neck. He chuckled and kissed me again, his hands tight on my waist. His slowly stiffening cock pressed against my stomach as he nuzzled me. I bit my lips, and he nipped at them until I sighed and parted them. I couldn't believe that his body was actually responding to mine. Okay, sure, he'd been hard around me before, but that was because I was about to give him a blowjob, or he wanted to be inside my ass. But we were just kissing now. It was barely sexual even as we laid in bed naked.

"I don't sleep with corpses, Matt," Brandon said into my neck.

I shivered. That was the first time he'd said my name. I hadn't even been sure he knew it. I bit my lip and slowly uncurled my arms to put them around him. He buried his face in my chest, covering it with kisses and little nips. I laughed, yelling "That tickles!"

Brandon chuckled and nuzzled my neck again, then nudged my legs apart with his knees. I felt really vulnerable underneath him. It was one thing to be on top with half my clothes still on, but I was completely naked now, and he towered over me, all hundred-pounds-heavier than me. He settled down between my thighs and pressed his hips against mine. He lined the shafts of our cocks so they rubbed together as he rocked his hips against mine. I shivered, my cock finally starting to stir through my nerves.

Brandon hummed again, grabbing both cocks in one hand and stroking them together. He sure liked to do that a lot. "There we go, faggot," he muttered as I got hard. I bit my lip as he ran his thumb around the tip of my dick. "Legs up," he said and slid a hand underneath one of my legs. He pulled it up over his hip so my ankle rested on his lower back. "Wrap your legs around me," he ordered. I wasn't sure if my legs were flexible enough, but once I hooked my ankles over each other they stayed.

Brandon lifted himself up on his elbows and looked down on me. "Yes..." he said.

"What?"

"That's a good look for you."

I looked away with an annoyed grunt, probably turning red again.

Brandon brought my attention back by kissing me and lowering his body so that his chest was on mine. The entire length of his body pressed against me, all long and lean and powerful, everything I wanted to be but wasn't. And he didn't seem to mind at all. He wrapped an arm behind my neck, and another snaked its way underneath my ass. He rubbed a finger around my asshole from behind. I hissed and twitched at the touch, and my body shifted my hips up without my permission, as if begging for his intrusion.

"This is where I'm going to be," he muttered, then rubbed the spot between my entrance and my balls. I whimpered and wriggled up against him. "Jeez," he breathed into my neck and rocked his hips up against mine. "I want to hear more of your moans," he said. I struggled to keep another moan out of my throat, but a bit managed to work its way out through my gritted teeth. "Yeah, that's what I want to hear, I want to hear you begging for me."

I looked away. "I am not begging for you," I muttered.

"Oh, really? You mean you weren't thinking about me being inside you for the entire game?" he asked, still rubbing that area with a finger. I hissed, my cock throbbing.

"N-no-"

"That definitely sounds like a yes."

"Mmphf."

He reached into his nightstand and pulled out the lube. He coated his fingers and wormed his hand back underneath me. I winced as he touched one of my most sensitive places with the cool lube.

"Need warmer lube," I muttered as he started to make little circles around my hole.

"I think your ass is hot enough to warm it up."

I snorted and looked away as he slowly worked one finger inside of me. Another quickly joined it. "This is getting faster," Brandon muttered. "It's like you want me inside of you."

"I'm just getting used to it," I muttered.

"Keep telling yourself that." He pushed his fingers in further. "I bet you can't wait for my dick inside of you."

I flushed. Another whimper escaped me. Brandon's hips were still steadily rocking against mine; our cocks still rubbed against each other. I knew mine was copiously dripping precum all over my bare stomach, and if I had to guess Brandon's was doing the same.

Brandon removed his fingers and coated his cock, then lined up his cockhead with my entrance.

"You want it, faggot?" he asked.

I bit my lip and nodded, and he slid inside me. He didn't go in gently like he did before. No, he thrust himself all the way inside me in one motion. I gasped and clung to him harder, my body twitching from the intrusion. He ground his hips against mine before pulling out and thrusting himself back inside of me. I dug my fingernails into his shoulders and my legs trembled around him.

He drilled into me, holding onto my hips and pressing his face against my shoulder. I gasped and thrust my hips up against him, whimpering when he ground his cock up into me. Each roll of his hips pressed our stomachs together around my cock, squeezing it, stroking it. Brandon lifted himself up enough to grab my cock and run his hand up and down my shaft. God, with his cock in my ass and a hand around mine...

I bit my lip, trying to keep everything inside. My moans died in my throat until Brandon muttered, "We're the only ones in the house," and then my cries tumbled out.

"Fuck-fuck!" I said. I braced my arms against the bed so I could thrust more strongly up against him. It was like I was fucking myself on his cock, it felt so good inside me. "God, fuck me!"

"I'm trying!" Brandon growled, then grabbed my arms and pinned them to the bed. He pounded into me, one hand on my hips to yank them up, another wrapped around my wrists keeping me under control. It just felt amazing, having his thick hard cock buried inside of me, fucking me. I felt like I was going crazy.

He bit down on my neck and I whimpered. "Puh-please..."

"Mmm?"

"I wanna..." My cock was pulsing angrily at me, throbbing achingly, desperate to come.

Brandon let go of my hip so he could grab my cock again. He stroked it in time with his own thrusts until it was ready to burst.

My orgasm started in my feet, slowly flowing up my legs, then slammed into me. My body convulsed, milking Brandon's cock in my ass. I cried out as I came, blowing my load all over my stomach.

"Fuck," Brandon muttered, still loosely stroking me. "So tight..." He groaned as he came inside of me. I felt his cock throbbing inside of me, emptying himself.

He gasped as he released himself inside of me, and let out another soft moan. My body was still clenching down on him, and he kept himself inside me long enough that he had started to go limp by the time he pulled out.

"God," he muttered and wiped some of the sweat off his brow. "So much better than any girl."

I flushed. "That's stupid," I said.

"Why?"

"I'm completely different than a girl."

Brandon smirked. "Yeah," he said, then looked down at me with his weird look.

I let him stare for a bit, waiting for him to do something more substantial. When he didn't, I said, "What?"

"I l-" he started, but was cut off by his phone ringing. He fumbled for it on his side table. "Yeah?"

I could overhear the other person on the line. "Bro! Where are you? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago!"

"Shit." He glanced at the time on his phone. "Yeah, I'll be there in ten."

"What the fuck!"

Brandon hung up on him and jumped out of bed. "Wait here," he said, grabbed some clean clothes, and ran off to the shower.

I hunted out a couple of tissues to clean myself up, reminding myself that it was way easier to clean now verses later, and pulled my clothes back on.

Brandon returned pretty damn quick for a shower. "I don't think I can get you to come along," he said as he shoved his phone into the back pocket of his pants.

"Why would you-" I started, but he cut me off with one of his overwhelming kisses. For a long moment all decent thought ran away from me. Why didn't I want to kiss him again? I couldn't remember.

"Catch you later, kay?" Brandon said and rushed out of the room.

I grinned as I let myself out the window. I didn't really need to, since the house was empty except for my scrawny self, but, what the hell, it was tradition.

I walked back to my dorm, a warm pleasant feeling filling my limbs and chest and stomach that made me want to skip.