Football Camp

Joe strutted over to the window, watching the wild thunderstorm in action, the one that had blown out the power. He had the body of a linebacker, already, standing at 6'2" and packing on at least 190 pounds of beefy muscle on the frame of a rising senior. I watched as he stood and looked outside, lazily scratching his bare abdomen. His boxer shorts looked like he was rapidly outgrowing them, since they were snug on the waist and the legs seemed ridiculously short as they rode up his swollen quad muscle.

But it was hot, too hot to wear clothes. I myself sat on the ratty 60s-style sofa in my briefs.

"Goddamnit," he muttered. "At least it might break the heat."

Here we were, stuck in a cinder block dorm at a small college in the middle of the plains. No modern conveniences, no AC, just the brutal summer July heat and full days of a football camp for elite high school athletes.

That would be me. Alex Griffin, a tall lanky guy at 6'6" but lately I'd hit a real growth spurt and had started bulking up, catching up. I was sure I'd grow bigger too, but that wasn't what brought me to this godforsaken place for a chance of a lifetime. That was my height, my coordination, my precision and the power of my throwing arm. As starting quarterback for two years now, I'd been responsible for putting Campbell High on the Indiana state football map.

Joe McKinney was similarly a rising star, only on defense. We hit it off immediately, being a couple of the only Midwestern guys here at the camp. Joe went to one of those prep schools in Ohio known for churning out football talent.

I knew better than to lust after other guys openly, on my team or here at camp. I normally kept that compartmentalized, but after a few days of being too sore and tired from practice to even get a boner, I found my libido fighting a comeback. So I silently, surreptitiously appraised my roomie's nude form as he came back and plopped on the couch next to me.

Apparently I wasn't the only guy fighting his libido. Even in the light filtering through the room from outside I could see that Joe was throwing hard in his boxers. He made no bones about it either, gripping it and massaging the shaft.

"Nothing to do here but throw wood, huh, Griff?" He leaned back and I swear I could see every pop of his abdomen muscle. I'd been sprouting some hairs on my chest, but McKinney was still naturally smooth chested, though he had a full bush and his chestnut brown hair filled his armpits.

It was like his words gave me permission to grow erect in my briefs. My dick filled out quickly, with a vengeance. "You got it," I agreed cautiously. "This place is boring as shit."

Joe laughed. I liked his laugh, it was deep-throated but playful at the same time. "They don't want you thinking about anything but football 24-7." We'd had a particularly tough practice that day.

"It's working," I said. "Though right now all I'm thinking about is the sack Veldez got on me. I'm gonna be feeling that tomorrow."

Joe nodded. He'd been beaten all week, too, and we had another week coming up. Though I guess as a defensive player he was used to taking this hits. We sat silently for a minute, looking out at the rain and wondering if the power was gonna come back on.

I don't know that Joe ever stopped massaging his crotch but I certainly noticed when he reached in his fly and hauled his prick out. It was a thick piece, matching his body type, and cut. Immediately his fist wrapped around it and started jerking it. "Damn, I'm horny," he announced. "I'm afraid I can't wait." He spit into his hand for some extra lubrication then resumed his masturbation, right in front of me. "You gonna join me, Griff?"

Part of me was nervous this was some sort of baiting, or a joke. But Joe didn't seem to be joking or doing much other than jacking his dick. I took a quick intake of breath and did it, lowering my briefs to reveal my now throbbing bone.

"Nice," McKinney muttered in approval. "You tall guys always seem to have long ones. You're uncut, too."

"Yeah," I nodded. It was weird to be talking so candidly about my dick with this fellow athlete, but Joe had this laid-back jock way about him that made it seem like natural male bonding. So I went along with it, gripping my shaft and starting my steady, pleasurable jerking.

"Cool," Joe said, the linebacker now clearly getting more into his own self-pleasuring session. "I always wondered what it would be like to have my 'skin."

"I don't know anything else," I admitted. I'm not sure why my parents didn't circumcise me, and I always felt a little self=conscious being in the minority in the locker room.

"Yeah, I guess so," the guy replied, leaning his beefy body back a bit and spreading his legs further, so the boxer rode up even higher on his legs. "Still, the foreskin makes your cock look even longer. Not that you need it."

"Thanks," I said. I didn't know what else to say so I didn't say anything. I could compliment him on his thick prick or his magnificent bulky body, but I didn't think that would go over so well.

We jerked off in unison, and the sexual intensity was building as we worked ourselves closer to our nut. I'm wasn't there yet, just getting closer, when Joe spoke up again.

"Which coach you think has the biggest one?"

"What?" His question caught me off guard.

"Of the coaches here, which one you think has the biggest dong?"

I thought a second. "I dunno. Barrett, I guess." Tom Barrett was the QB coach, and a seriously good looking dude just on the closer side of 40. When I wasn't cursing him under my breath, I'd been crushing out on him all week.

McKinney shook his head no. "You're just saying that cause you're a quarterback. Jenkins definitely has a bigger cock. Longer and fatter too." Dwayne Jenkins was a former all-pro defensive back, a hulking African-American athlete who if anything was even more handsome in middle age, with a mischievous smile he'd often give between barking orders.

"Maybe," I conceded. It was all conjecture anyway, so why argue?

My reply seemed to satisfy Joe, who was now stroking faster, adding more spit. The rain had stopped and the clouds were clearing, so the late evening sun lit up the room more and more. I could see my roommate more clearly, and he watched me too. Both of us, openly jacking off.

"What would you do with it?" Joe now grunted more than asked.

"With what?" My own voice was strained as I held off coming. I wanted this to last.

"With Barrett's dick?"

Again, I wondered if the dude was taunting me or sussing out if I was a queer. But here he was stroking and initiating the sex talk. What the hell?

"Touch it," I ventured.

"Duh," he said. "What else? Or you stop at handjobs?"

This conversation wasn't heading where I had expected it, but I was entering a real horny zone, turned on like hell. I blurted out, "I'd suck him, too." I blushed as I said it but it was a relief to articulate my desires out loud.

And Joe wasn't repulsed in the least. He stroked faster. "Hot, man. You know what I'd do with Jenkins' cock?" he asked.

"What?"

"I'd lift my big linebacker legs up to the ceiling and let him slip that giant black dong right in me."

"Fuck!" I cried. The mental image was too much and all of a sudden my load was spraying my chest. It was an intense orgasm, probably the most intense I'd experienced to that point, and my body went into a series of aftershocks that seemed to last a minute or two.

"Nice, Griff," McKinney growled. "That turns you on, huh, man? Getting all up into my tight hole." His big body writhed on the couch as he got closer. Joe really got into it, I'll give him that. "Aw man, I'm coming too..."

I watched in awe as heavy spurts of his defensive jock seed spurted and landed on his block pecs and conditioned abs.

"Whoo buddy," he said at last picking up his used T-shirt to wipe off. I followed suit.

"I knew you were a cool guy," Joe finally said, tucking his soft dick back in his boxers.

"Thanks," I said. It was strange to have such an intense sexual moment with Joe then go back to being jock buddies.

We shot the breeze for a while and talked about our programs back home, our career plans, what we liked and didn't like about football camp. The power came back on but it was getting dark out, and after a long tiring day, and the sexual release we were both ready to crash.

We got in our twin beds, the sort of dorm bed that meant my feet stuck out several inches. It was still hot and humid, and I didn't need any covers. At least the fan was back on. I flicked out the light at last.

"Good night, Joe," I said.

"Good night, Alex," he replied, using my first name for a change. Then he added after a minute. "You know Griff, I don't know if you're a betting man, but I'd bet 20 bucks that you're better hung than Barrett." Not even waiting for me to say anything, he added, "yeah, you're bigger than Coach B, all right."

* * * *

The next day was rough. The only good thing was the heat had climbed down to a normal summer temp. The coaches still gave us breaks and made sure we were hydrated Coaches worked our asses off in the morning drills and made us run laps after lunch. It was one of those days when it was too humid and hazy to be sunny but it was still in the 90s and felt hotter.

"Nice hustle, Griffin," Coach Barrett barked as I ran through our drills. He didn't even crack a smile when he said it, but damn his words fueled my desire to do even better. I gave 110%, just so I could get that man's approval. I was wiped as hell once three o'clock rolled around, so wiped I didn't think I was going to be able to walk my way back to the locker room, but the reward was having Barrett come up and wrap his arm around my shoulder affectionately. "Way to leave it all out on the field today, Alex." It was the first time he'd referred to me by my first name, and it made me smile. "Thanks, Coach," I said, looking up and seeing a smile form on his face too.

"You gonna rest up so you can show me what you got tomorrow?

Damn, I wanted to live up to his expectations. "Yes, sir, Coach."

I was exhausted but feeling ten feet tall when we got back to our dorm room.

Joe was in a chatty mood. As we sat in our mesh practice shorts, we talked about our upcoming football season, and the ways the camp would make the difference.

Finally, McKinney dropped casually, "I think Coach Jeffers wants to bone me, bro." Stan Jeffers was another one of the defensive coaches at the camp, a former college star who did OK in the pros but never was a huge NFL star.

I about spit out my soda. "Yeah?" McKinney could be a bullshitter, I had the feeling.

He nodded. "Oh yeah. The guy kept coming around to adjust my form, putting his hands all over me. I mean like every five minutes it was some new excuse."

"No shit?" Maybe Joe wasn't lying. He was a good looking stud, and I couldn't be the only guy who found him hot.

He nodded. "Your boyfriend Barrett doesn't do that for you?" he teased. If Joe and I hadn't jerked off together the day before, I would have sworn it was a homophobic taunt. Still, it was the kind of tease that raised my defenses.

"He's not my boyfriend, dude."

Joe laughed then grabbed his genitals through his soft shorts, cupping them and rubbing a little. "Dude, I'm horny as fuck. Wanna have some fun again?" His look at me had some lust but was equal parts playfulness. I couldn't believe how laid back the linebacker was.

"Um, sure," I said, and that was all it took for Joe's shorts to drop down those beefy legs.

He wasn't fuck hard but his thick tool was firming up, rising from a lying position next to his leg to stand up as he grew excited.

I slipped my own shorts down, revealing the bone I was already throwing.

"Nice, Griff," Joe said in a deep growl. "I can't believe how long that fucker is." He stared openly at my prick as if he was trying to decide something. Surprisingly he didn't seem in a rush to stroke off. Instead he let his cock harden as he sat legs spread, almost facing me. Finally he gave a nod, maybe to himself, and got up off the couch.

I watched his strong backside and that meaty ass as he sauntered over to rummage through his gym bag. "I found this in the locker room," he said, pulling out a tub of vaseline. I watched raptured as he scooped out a golf-ball sized dollop of petroleum jelly and reach back between his buns.

I was a little naive because I thought maybe Joe was going to play with his hole while we stroked off. Only he had a goofy grin on his face as he stepped up to me and then turned around. I watched that meaty butt in front of me descend toward my crotch and Joe's paw reach around to grab my dick, pulling it down like a level.

The guy's crack felt tacky sticky from the vaseline, but that soon liquified from the heat of my cock. Then it hit me: I'd never had sex with another guy and here was about to fuck a dude's ass. Joe McKinney's beefy linebacker ass. I wasn't sure what to expect but the sensation as my dick pressed past his ring was incredible. Tight, fiery hot, then almost a suctioning sensation as Joe's ass swallowed me hole.

He bucked his butt down about five or six inches of my rod then paused. "You related to a horse, Griff?"

I couldn't help but reach out and touch his back. His front side had some extra padding but the back was pure bulging muscle from his shoulders to his ass. I ran my hands along, feeling the contours and appreciating the contrast with my own leaner build.

I don't know if it was the body contact or if he was just getting used to a pole up his hole, but McKinney started descending down again, now sitting down on my crotch. "Oh, Goddamn," he muttered, clearly overwhelmed but my size.

Maybe I didn't know what to do, but I couldn't help it. I thrust into Joe. And again. I reached around and held him from behind as I just started fucking his snug ass. I leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck, and my hands played with the beefy muscle of his pecs and abs. Mostly, though, I fucked him, overcome by the new and amazing sensation on my cock.

Joe stroked off while I porked him, his grunts and breaths getting shorter.

In the back of my head I thought maybe I should slow it down and make this fuck last longer. But I was excited and horny and I wanted to cum. I picked up the pace even more and I felt my orgasm coming. Only this wasn't like a typical orgasm, a quick flash of pleasure while I stroked off. It was a tsunami wave that kept crescendoing until it crashed.

And me with it.

"Oh man," I hissed and fired several heavy rounds of my semen into McKinney's guts.

"You shooting in me, Griff?" he panted, working his own rod.

"Fuck yeah," I replied.

Joe double timed his stroking and I experienced what it was like to hold a man having his orgasm.

I'd lost my virginity and I felt amazing as Joe stood up, letting my softening rod plop out of his seeded hole. I was kind of hoping we'd make out or just hold one another. Anything to commemorate this milestone in my life. Instead laid back Joe reemerged as he turned around and reached back, digging his finger into his pucker.

"Nice one, Griffin," he said, seeing a wad of my jizz on his fingertip. He brought it to his mouth and slurped it in. Joe walked over and grabbed some paper towels, wiping off. "Gonna sleep like a baby tonight. Thanks man."

"Yeah, sure," I replied. I felt like I should be thanking him.