What a great feeling of sexual exhilaration surged through me as I entered this library toilet. Sex emanated from every corner, starting with the musky smell of freshly pumped semen that greeted me as I entered the place, heightened by the posed, come-on stances of a couple of sexy guys at the urinals, and compounded by the sight of three booths, the middle one of which was open and empty, waiting for me. This place was active! I was here to suck cock and I knew I'd be sucking some nice ones because I'd been here before. Often!

Entering the center stall confirmed the clear sexual promise. Both walls held big glory holes. As I dropped my jeans to sit down, I sensed that the occupants on either side had been anxiously awaiting my arrival, or, more accurately, the arrival of any good cocksucker, judging from their nervous movements. I opened my shirt, spread my knees, hefted my growing erection, and paused. I saw the shadow of the guy in the left booth move as he leaned down to check me out. I put a finger to the hole.

Sure enough, with an audible sigh of expectant pleasure, the guy jumped up to ease a big erection through the large hole. I love watching cock come through walls at me! He held it down with his fingertips, but as it came through it sprang to full stiffness, pulsating in the bright lights of the warm room. A wave of carnal pleasure surged through me. This was fantastic. I was being offered a nice big cock to suck. I was going to suck cock! I studied the large, well-formed, beautifully colored cock as my mouth watered and my own cock sprang to complete rigidity. I wanted to dive onto the handsome intruder. But I also wanted the occupant of the other booth to see what I was seeing and to realize what I was going to do in service of that very big cock.

When I heard a light gasp on my right, I knew the cock had been spotted, so I leaned toward it and slowly sucked it in. As it entered my mouth, it felt even bigger than it looked. It was hot, smooth, well flanged and spongy but with real stiffness and power. It was wonderful! I sucked it. I love sucking cock. I could have spent hours on this one, alone, but the guy had other ideas.

'Suck it hard,' he whispered huskily, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. I knew those at the urinals could see the direction his feet were pointed in. There could be no doubt about what was going on. A cocksucker had entered the center booth. Of course, as that cocksucker, I followed his instruction and sucked like a champion.

'Wow! That's it, man,' he sang our boldly, 'suck my big dick! That's it, suck it hard!' He was guttural and expressive and clearly told everyone in the place what was happening. 'Oh, man, you are good!' He stressed the word 'good' so sincerely that I knew it was impressive, free advertising for my skills and I was delighted with him. This was my first cock of the day, but I knew for sure that I'd be getting a whole lot more. Casual sex! I love it!

I was a sophomore at an all-male college. I had discovered these glory holes in the campus library during my very first week at the school the previous year. I had spent so much time at these and at all the other glory holes on campus that I knew just which ones would be busy at which times. These two were exceptionally busy now, at lunchtime. They would yield many big loads, today. As usual! If the college offered degrees in cocksucking, I knew I'd merit a Ph.D.!

* * * * *

Later that afternoon, I had an appointment to try out for the wrestling team. I was already on the baseball team, which was mainly active only in the spring, so I figured wrestling would be a good way to stay active during the rest of the year. I had done enough wrestling in high school to know the ropes. I had also done enough wrestling to remember those 'precious moments' of intimate bodily contact with another sturdy male, which turned both my opponent and me on. The hope of recapturing a few of those moments was alluring, and a major factor in my decision.

When I got to the gym, the wrestling team coach told me to strip, put on a jockstrap, do my warm-up exercises and then report to his office. I felt this was unusual, but did as I was told. He smiled as I entered his office. He had me stand in the middle of the small room, in front of a large mirror, on a wrestling mat that covered the entire floor. I was naked but for the jock.

'Very good,' the coach said, 'now, turn around. That's it, keep turning, I want to see what kind of shape you're in.' We both watched in the mirror as I spun round for him. From the expression on his face, he seemed to like what he saw. It gave me a funny feeling in my gut to see him staring so lustfully at my nearly nude figure.

'Excellent,' he said admiringly. 'Excellent! You appear physically much stronger in the flesh than when you're clothed. Since you're on the baseball team, I know you've had all the required medical exams. Now, what we need to do is give you a wrestling test. You do know how to wrestle, don't you?' he asked.

'Sure,' I acknowledged boastfully, 'I took wrestling classes for two years in hi...' Before I could finish, he rushed me, grabbed the arm I put up defensively, and tossed me over his hip onto my back. I lay sprawled on the mat in front of the mirror. It had been unexpected. I was unhurt but startled.

'Well, we'll see how good you are,' he declared, grinning down at me. 'The test must be against someone in your own weight class, so first we've got to weigh you. Get up. Step up on the scale. That's it.' He paused, reading the numbers. 'Perfect,' he proclaimed, 'you are exactly the same weight as a junior named Pete. I thought you would be. Pete's good but not so overpowering that it would put you at an immediate disadvantage. You don't have to pin him or win the match against him to be accepted for the team. Winning the match is not the point. Passing the test is. I want to be sure you're good enough to keep from getting hurt. Do you understand?'

'Sure. That's great. I'll do my best,' I agreed.

'Good,' he said. 'Here,' he tossed me a wrestler's suit, saying, 'put this on.'

'What's Pete like?' I asked as I wiggled into a suit that felt two sizes too small. 'Should I know anything about his style?'

'You might want to know two things,' the coach told me. 'First, he's very quick, so be alert.'

'And second?' I asked.

'He's known for wanting to fuck anyone he beats, so you may want to stay clear of him afterwards, if you lose.' He laughed at my astonished expression.

'You must be kidding.'

'You've been warned,' the coach responded. Then he paused, looked me up and down in what felt like a rather sexual way, and added, 'Besides, I've heard you know how to handle yourself.' Before I could question him, he led me out of the room in that officious way coaches often act, which implies the discussion has ended. It was the first time in my life, really, that I became aware of having a reputation. It was also the first time in my life that I was aware of having my reputation precede me. I wondered what the coach knew.

As we walked into the wrestler's practice room, I felt very conspicuous. The wrestling suit felt too tight and way too small. The suits I'd worn in high school were roomy and loose with a front 'bib' reaching my throat. This suit's design seemed cut to enhance the crotch bulge rather than flatten it out. My crotch seemed thrust up and out, looking extended and big. The 'bib' portion hardly reached much above my naval as two straps cut down from my shoulders and highlighted my pecs by leaving big gaps below them, somehow overemphasizing their fullness and calling attention to my large, uncovered nipples, which were taut with excitement.

The back of the suit fitted snugly over the buttocks but also pulled in between the cheeks, separating them and emphasizing their roundness, while the suit barely reached to the top of the ass-cleft, leaving it and my jockstrap's waistband exposed. Again, the straps of the suit were so tight they seemed to highlight my muscularity and they didn't touch flesh from mid-back to buttocks

Two walls in the practice room were covered with mirror, so it was difficult to ignore my image as I followed the coach to the center of the room. A few pairs of wrestlers were sparring as we came in, but they all broke apart to watch me: The New Guy. As it turned out, I was the only student to appear for the open tryouts that year. The 'real' wrestlers had been signed up from the beginning of the school year, the freshmen mostly having been recruited from high schools, and the others returning from previous years. I didn't know it at the time, but athletes in other sports, such as football, tennis, swimming, crew, etc., or my sport, baseball, rarely try out for wrestling.

'Gentlemen,' the coach announced loudly, 'this is Jack, who is a sophomore on the varsity baseball team. He'd like to try out for our team.' To my surprise, they gave me a modest round of applause. For some reason, it made me feel even more conspicuous in that tight suit, but as the stares I was getting seemed friendly, I tried to relax.

'Now, Pete,' he called out, 'come over here. I'd like you to give Jack a real test. You're exactly the same weight and about the same size. I feel it would be a fair match up.'

A surprisingly handsome youth stood and started towards us, a sly grin on his face. His suit was very loose and worn. I figured it had been tugged out of shape during frequent practice bouts. It made me realize that my suit was tight only because it was new. This realization made me feel somewhat less nervous, sensing the coach had not been trying to embarrass me with a suit that was the wrong size.

Pete came up to me and put out his hand. I shook it firmly. He was looking me in the eye as if to stare me down but games like that have no effect on me. Baseball players, too, are always trying things to upset opponents in order to gain an upper hand, so I just stared back at him. When he realized that it wouldn't work, he grinned at me. He was really very cute. I grinned back.

'Do you need to warm up?' he asked me.

'No, he's all right,' the coach interrupted. 'I had him do warm-ups before I weighed him.'

Pete winked at me without saying anything. The coach didn't see the wink. My groin churned. All I could think of was the coaches warning. I asked myself if I wanted to get screwed if I lost. I knew I did. Pete was awfully good looking. But I wanted to get on the team, too, so I knew I'd try my hardest.

To the command, 'Assume the position,' Pete crouched down, arms outstretched, ready to pounce. I got ready. The coach became the referee, blew a whistle, and we began wrestling. The other wrestlers formed a wide ring around us, and other men started to filter in from other areas to watch as they heard the excited calls from Pete's teammates encouraging him to win. But some of them were calling encouragement to me, too.

I matched Pete's speed and strength. At least I didn't embarrass myself in those departments. But I was no match for his overall skill. He really knew what he was doing. I didn't. High school fooling around simply had no resemblance to serious varsity-level, collegiate wrestling. In minutes, I realized that we were performing at two vastly different skill levels and I could not hope to win. Pete was intense. Although I avoided being pinned, I had to struggle to hold my own, often finding myself trying to work out of what felt like very weird positions. By the time the excruciatingly long and difficult trial was over, I had lost the match on points.

'Now I get to plug your ass,' Pete whispered directly into my ear as the final point was called out and the win announced. No one else could have heard him above the cheers from his teammates. We broke apart and stood up. I looked at him. He was grinning from ear to ear. Then I realized I was, too.

The coach told me he'd let me know how I had done but that I could shower, dress, and leave for now. I was a little disappointed, but realized they had a practice session to complete.

What I hadn't realized was that there had been a school photographer at the session.

* * * * *

The next morning, as I walked into the cafeteria for breakfast, everyone seemed to be staring at me and grinning. It made me feel like my fly was open or something. It was strange.

Pete came over to my table and dropped the school newspaper next to my tray. 'Seen this week's paper?' he asked with a smirk. I picked up the paper with some trepidation. 'Inside, second last page,' Pete instructed as I looked at the front page, wondering what this was all about. My hand trembled as I opened to the suggested page.

What a shock! A picture of myself took up half a page. It has to be the most blatantly erotic photo of myself I've ever seen. I knew I wasn't naked, but that made no difference, you simply couldn't tell from the picture. I had been caught in a very strange position. It appeared that I was lying on top of someone, on my back. Because of shadows, lighting, and positioning, it could seem like whoever was beneath me (and he couldn't be identified as Pete) had his crotch buried so deeply in my ass that he had to be corn-holing me. My body was straining upwards, as if trying to improve the assault. Somehow, the crotch-bulge in my tight suit could be easily mistaken for a full erection. Again, it was all shadows and lighting that played this lewd prank, but it made the erection appear gigantic. The final blow was that my face was the most clearly visible part of the photo and my expression seemed to be one of orgasmic bliss. How that photographer captured that particular expression, I'll never know.

As I stared in shock at the photo, I slowly became aware of Pete's warmth as he stood next to my shoulder, his crotch almost pressed against me. 'The caption doesn't even mention ME,' he complained, whispering, leaning down near my ear. He paused, then added, 'Nice shot of YOU, though, don't you think?'

I turned my head to look at him almost touching his lips with mine he was so close. He grinned. 'Now that there's already a picture of it,' he whispered lustily, 'I'll have to plug that sexy butt of yours just to know how to answer all the questions I'll be asked.'

'What questions?' I asked in surprise.

'The ones that go, 'How was it?' 'Was it tight and hot?' 'Could he take all of it?' 'Is he good in bed?' You know, they'll want my report.' He laughed as he watched an expression of dismay appear on my face.

Every group of men has its few truly handsome individuals. Pete was one of them. Straight, shiny black hair; classic facial features with flashing dark eyes; an unusually thick neck which gave him an aura of great strength; and a powerful build; were among his attributes. He exuded a cheerful confidence. It was a pleasure to be near him. I knew I had fallen for him.

'Makin' another date?' someone asked snidely as he walked by.

I blushed, but Pete jerked upright and turned his body to look at the guy who'd made the remark. The movement caused his crotch to press firmly against my shoulder. It was a very lustful moment. I didn't want the contact to break, but Pete, feeling the connection, pulled back after a long moment of shared intimacy. I felt the warmth of his genitals and I sensed their power, just as I had during the wrestling test.

He leaned back down, close to my face, and whispered, 'Meet me here for dinner, at six, OK?'

What could I say? I nodded my agreement. I could hardly wait. But I didn't miss my daily visits to the busy campus glory holes.

* * * * *

Pete waved the local newspaper above his head to catch my attention as I came into the dinning room. As I walked towards his table, I was again hit with the clear impression that everyone in the room was leering at me. It made me very self-conscious.

'Seen the evening paper?' Pete asked loudly as I approached.

My heart stopped. It couldn't be possible that the local newspaper would also print that lewd photo. It was just too suggestive. But Pete unfolded the paper he was holding and, sure enough, there on the front page of the sports section was a large reproduction of that scandalous photo. I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment and excitement.

'Can you beat that?' Pete asked with an earnest expression. 'THEY didn't mention my name, either.' He grinned.

The caption read, STUDENT SEEKS POSITION ON WRESTLING TEAM. Looking at the photo was really upsetting because it looked somehow even more lewd than the school paper's version. And the caption seemed to add to the lewdness, with its double entendre. Looking at the picture made one wonder just what position was being sought. Team Fuckee, maybe?

I glanced around. Every table in the room seemed to be exhibiting the sports section. I felt tremendously uncomfortable. Pete delighted in my discomfort.

'You're a real celebrity, Jack,' he whispered. 'Practically everyone in school is wondering what it would be like to make out with you, now that your enjoyment of masculine physical contact has been flaunted so blatantly and so publicly. Students, professors, coaches, staff...' he paused, grinning, waving his hand around in the air vaguely, '...the janitors. Everyone.' He was enjoying himself.

'Jesus, Pete, what should I do?' I asked in desperation.

'Do? Fuck, man, you don't need to do a thing. You've become the most talked about man on campus. You couldn't pay for such extensive publicity. You can't see it yet, but this photo's going to open up all kinds of very interesting doors for you in the days to come. You'll see. I really envy you.'

'You do?' I was amazed.

'Shit, yes,' he replied earnestly. 'Everyone knew you were gay. Now they'll be wondering what it would be like to make out with you. You seem to enjoy it so.'

'Everyone knows I'm gay?' I asked in a pained whisper. I was flabbergasted. I knew I'd been none too cautious about my reputation, but I thought I had made an effort at being discreet.

'Well, damn, you've already made out with half the students and a third of the faculty. Did you think you were keeping it a secret? Everyone knows what you have for lunch, for example.' He gave me a look as if to ask, 'Don't you realize that?'

My face flushed. 'Everyone does?' I asked in a tense whisper.

'They sure do. You eat lunch at the glory holes in the library. Those of us who know, say you give the best head on campus.' He paused and then added, 'Or off campus.'

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. All this time I had thought that sex in the library was so anonymous. So secretive. Rarely seen faces; quick blowjobs; ten or more men in a lunch hour. Who knew it was ME on the other side of the hole? Well, apparently, they all did. That was a shocker!

'YOU knew?' I asked hesitantly.

'I've been a regular at the library,' he whispered, huskily.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

'You may not have seen my face, man, but you'll recognize my big dick, I'm certain of it.'

My mouth dropped open.

'When I watched you walk into the wrestling room, yesterday, I almost creamed my jock. Wrestling with you is fun, but what I really want is to get you in bed and fuck the shit out of that humpy butt of yours.' He smiled angelically, giving an aura of innocence to his manner despite his lascivious speech.

'Whose bed? Yours or mine?' I asked in a whisper. He was too sexy to be put off. I made a clear submission and an open invitation. He didn't need to be asked twice. We left with our dinners half-eaten.

As we walked out of the dining room, I felt the pressure of every eye in the place on me. I was certain they all knew where we were going and what we'd be doing when we got there. And Pete had made me wonder when they'd be asking to share my favors. It was an incredibly memorable moment in my life.

* * * * *

Pete was right. I did recognize his big dick. It was unmistakable. So thick it reminded me of his neck. Well-shaped and stunning in its visual impact, with curves and colors that made my mouth water. It was a tool made for hard work, and Pete had every intention of fucking me hard. Oh, he let me play around with it a while, even letting me suck it for a few wonderful moments, but he wanted 'IN' and he was extremely resourceful in getting his own way.

We had gone up to his dorm room. The walls were paper-thin, so we were trying to be as quiet as possible, but before long, it was extremely obvious to anyone who happened to be passing by or in a nearby room that an athletic fuck was taking place. We became much too engrossed in our pleasures to be quiet about it.

And Pete wasn't content to ram it home and shoot his load. No, he wanted to fuck, to vary the pace, to shift angles, to change positions, and to fuck, and fuck, and fuck. He had amazing staying power and lifted me to such lofty stages of stimulation that I thought I'd climax over and over again. Somehow, he was able to tell just when to hold back and calm me down. It was incredible. When it came to making love, he was a world-class champion! (And I was no slouch!)

We screwed on the bed; on the floor; standing in front of the mirror; sitting on a chair; on his desk; and, finally, with me doing squats on his fat, big dick. It was marvelous. When he began rubbing my balls as I jacked off, that did it. I came. I wildly spurted out what seemed like gallons of cum and he was so stimulated by being splattered by it that he began pumping his creamy load deeply into me. My orgasms have always been most vividly uncontrolled when a big pulsating penis is implanted far up my rectum spewing its load. With Pete in me, I sprayed all over the place.

'Jesus, that was good!' he said huskily after catching his breath.

I smiled my agreement, but I thought I heard a whimper of excitement coming from nearby. I wondered if we were being spied upon.

Pete suggested we wrap towels around our waists and leave his room to take a shower. I agreed, wanting to stay with him and wanting to continue our lovemaking. As we opened his door onto what is normally an empty hallway at this time of early evening, a dozen or so classmates, some of them wrestling team members, some baseball team members, and others, were milling quietly outside. And a number of doors along the hallway were standing open, their frames filled with onlookers.

We walked out among these grinning fellows, heading for the showers, and several patted Pete on the back as though for some great athletic achievement. A number of them also squeezed my buns, patted my ass or rubbed my back affectionately.

I was in a daze. They were congratulating Pete for having plugged me and he was loving it. He was swaggering towards the showers ahead of me like the winner of some kind of sports challenge, obviously enjoying the attention, smiling like a champion and acknowledging their clamor by nodding his head and holding up a clenched fist.

I didn't know how to react. They seemed to be as delighted with me for having let Pete fuck me as they were with him for having done it. It was really bizarre. I had never been in such a peculiar position before. Just imagine! They knew what we'd done and they were exhilarated by it. It caused a weird reaction in me. I started getting an erection. Well, what would you have done? I realized that my already busy sex life was about to take a quantum leap to an even lustier level. I figured that maybe having a reputation might not be so bad, after all.

And I wondered what would happen when we got into the showers.

* * * * *

The shower room had two of those carousel-type shower-stands, each with eight showerheads. Pete and I began lathering up, right next to one another. Suddenly, another nude bather who took a showerhead directly across from me joined us. Immediately, another young man came in and started a showerhead right next to me. Then, another and another came in and joined the circle around the carousel, until all eight showerheads were spraying handsome, naked males. I had never before seen a completely occupied shower carousel, even in the morning when the room was its busiest and certainly not at this quiet time of day. I was completely surprised that none of them had gone, for the sake of modesty or privacy, to the second carousel in the large room. Within moments, however, that carousel, too, began filling up with naked youths until there were sixteen of us together in that room, which was becoming very steamy. I knew almost every one of these guys by name, and even recognized a few of them from the library. This was unreal! What the hell were they all up to?

'I told you you'd become popular,' Pete said casually, not even trying to whisper. I looked at him in amazement, and then in shock as I saw that he was allowing himself to get a hard-on, right in front of all these other guys.

'Is he a good fuck?' the man next to Pete wanted to know. He was a big guy, a linebacker on our football team.

'He fucks as good as he sucks,' Pete declared openly.

Several lewd comments were made, like, 'Man, I wish he'd suck this,' and, 'I'd like to fuck that seductive ass of his,' as I glanced around the circle. All of them were getting erections. Then I realized that I already had an erection, too. The boys in the other circle were also getting hard.

'Is he good?' someone asked.

'He's fuckin' terrific, you should see,' Pete confirmed excitedly. He was now as erect as possible.

A deep voice said, 'Let's see him suck this.'

It was the man standing next to me. I glanced from Pete to him and saw to my amazement that he was fondling a huge, towering erection, which looked moist and inviting in the warm glow of the shower room. He waggled it at me as he saw me staring at it. I saw no point in ignoring it. After all, if they wanted to have sex with me I had no intention of trying to fight them all off. The waggle of the big cock was all the invitation I needed.

As I went down on it, everyone dropped the pretense of shower taking. They broke away from their positions around the carousels and formed a tight circle around Pete and me and the guy I was sucking. Suddenly, I felt a stiff poker at my ass and was slowly and efficiently plugged. It was delightful. I was getting fucked as I sucked a hot, huge cock!

The next half-hour or so became something of an incredible sexual blur. I had been in circle-jerks and jack-off orgies before, during the two years I spent in the Army, and had even been in a prolonged series of suck/fuck orgies on a slow troopship, but this was somehow VERY different. For one thing, the excitement level of these boys was off the scale. I'd barely suction the crown of a cock into my mouth and it would explode its juices into me. A hard cock would knock at the rear and almost immediately shudder to tremendous orgasm. I suppose that having to wait their turn was almost too much for these young guys to bear, as they watched me take cock after cock into my ass and mouth. I'm sure they had never had this kind of exciting experience before and it was getting them so turned on that by the time I just hardly touched them, they'd have what almost seemed like premature ejaculations. They were all quick. This first time around, that is.

But then, after a while, they all seemed to be coming back for seconds. And those few that left the room seemed to be telling their friends what was going on in this shower room, and newcomers kept rushing in. It just kept going, on and on. Several times I had to excuse myself to go to the toilet to empty my bowels and they all simply waited for me. They didn't seem to be playing with each other, not that you'd notice, anyway, but they did seem to be enjoying watching me suck cock and take it up the ass. And, from what I was able to see from my distracting position, they seemed to enjoy encircling me, pressed against one another, proudly flaunting erections as they waited their turn.

Pete stood by me throughout the entire evening, never leaving my side, and, as a matter of fact, never losing his erection, either. He directed traffic; coached the uninitiated; quelled arguments; and disciplined the occasional rowdy. Without his calming, friendly influence, this carnal evening could have been disastrous. Instead, it was sensational! For all of us!

For me, the most enjoyable moments were with the second-timers. They had flushed out quick loads and now were able to enjoy more completely the effects of a good blowjob or a hot ass. They still came relatively quickly, no doubt because of the overwhelming sexual stimulation of the orgy, but I was able to do the little enjoyable things that make a blowjob memorable for them, or control my muscles and sphincter in ways that make ass-fucking mind-blowing for both parties. And their heartfelt compliments were stimulating as they'd whisper things to me, like, 'Best orgasm I've ever had, man,' or 'What a sweet ass, man,' or 'Now I know why blowjobs are so popular,' or 'Man, you are sexy!' It was great! And Pete loved hearing it, too.

As time passed, third-timers wanted to be serviced. I could tell who they were. Their balls hung down lower in stretched out sacs and their erections were more pliable and less rigid. They'd take much longer to shoot a load and worked me much harder. Pete quickly came to realize what was happening, and gave me a hand by whispering in their ears. I could hear him tell them that if they didn't shoot off quickly, HE'D fuck THEM in the ass. Or, if they didn't want to come quickly in my mouth, they could suck his dick while they waited to reach orgasm. It really worked. A couple pulled out, showered and left, but most of them got off on the sexy threats, grew much harder and came soon afterwards. Pete slipped a finger or two into some of them, also, which helped speed things up. No one complained.

But, finally, with great reluctance, I had to holler 'uncle.' I just couldn't hold any  more cum  in my gut. I seemed literally filled to capacity. I straightened up and looked around. There were as many, or more, men in the room as when this had all started. Erections were everywhere.

'I can't go on,' I admitted, honestly, to the disappointed faces. 'But I have to come, myself. Look at me, I've had this erection for hours.' And I pumped my own erection uninhibitedly.

Immediately, Pete joined me in the jack off. 'Yeah, man,' he declared loud enough for everyone to hear, 'I'm gonna join ya, I gotta cum, too. If you can't suck any more, then I'll just blow my wad with ya.' He grinned at me. I can't tell you how relieved he made me feel, or how stimulated.

Then, another guy started pumping away on his cock, near me, and said, 'Shit, man, I'm not leaving here with a hard-on. No way.'

'Me, neither,' someone else agreed, and another fist started working seriously on a big piece of meat.

That's all it took. The entire circle of men started jacking off with us. It was awesome! There must have been twenty guys in that room and all of them were jacking off with us.

'Ugh, Here!' a youthful, handsome guy groaned, and started spurting cum right at me. Four or five long strings of cum sailed out and landed on my body.

'Ooh, that looks so good,' someone else sighed, and he, too, began shooting cum directly at me.

Magically, everyone in the circle felt that was an overpoweringly sexy idea, and one after another of them, sometimes four or five of them simultaneously, aimed their ejaculating weapons at me and I got covered in jism from head to toe, front to back. Standing next to me, Pete got body painted with cum, too. For me, it was one of the most awesome events of my life. I've had dreams about it ever since then. I've jacked off, just reminiscing about all those erupting cocks aimed at me, and at Pete.

Suddenly, my own orgasm overtook me and I began firing back at that big circle. I can't remember shooting as much cum before or since, but I just kept coming. Pete shifted to stand in front of me, catching most of my sperm on his body, and then began to shoot back at me. All of his hand-pumped orgasm hit my body.

'Fuck, this is great!' someone said.

'Yeah, this is the best orgasm of my life!' someone else added.

I knew just how they felt. I think we all did.

Guys started rinsing off and leaving, then. We all knew it was over. Pete and I just stood there looking at one another. We were both dripping with jism. He looked wonderful. His erection had partially subsided, but he still looked capable of another round or two. I put out a hand and rubbed through the cum on his chest. It felt rich and incredibly slippery. He did the same to me. I wanted to embrace him and slither with him amid all that semen. His eyes shown with excitement and I knew he wanted to do it, too, but, reluctantly, we both turned and started our showers again, rinsing this splendid sheen from our bodies, fearful we'd start the whole orgy up again if we didn't.

We were among the last to leave the shower room. On our way out, wrapping towels around ourselves again, Pete whispered to me, 'Sleep with me, tonight, Jack. I want you with me.'

Wordlessly, I went directly into his room with him, not caring what anyone would think of it. We were both on extraordinarily high levels of sexual arousal because of what had happened. We seldom slept during the night. And from time to time, we could plainly hear guys jacking off in other rooms. It was a night none of us would ever forget.

* * * * *

Two days later, I got a letter from the wrestling coach. As I opened it, I steeled myself for a rejection, figuring he would have let me know in person if I'd been accepted on the team. It surprised me, therefore, to read that I had been accepted, but on a provisional basis. If I would develop my skills to varsity levels, follow his advice, and work hard, a place for me on the team was assured. He also mentioned, enigmatically, that some of the wrestling team members 'went to bat' for me. That's how he put it. I had to laugh.

In the almost three years I stayed on the wrestling team, I know I played with more 'bats' than I did playing baseball. From my experience, I'll state unequivocally that wrestlers love to fuck. And fuck around. And fuck some more!

 

Jack Sofelot

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