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I woke up the next morning to the sound of my alarm on my phone and immediately started trying to figure out how I could let Jason know that I was there for him if he wanted to talk. I figured he may be feeling really guilty about what we did and he might be hard to pin down.
I reached over to my phone to stop the alarm and saw that I had a text. From none other than Jason Foster.
Jason Foster: hey man can we talk after practice today?
I wasn’t exactly sure how to read that. Was he having regrets? Did he want to have sex again? After staring at the screen for a while trying to think of the right response, I just sent him something neutral.
Me: Yeah, of course. We’ll talk after practice.
At practice later that afternoon I realized immediately why Jason had suggested we talk after practice and not during. With all the drills Coach Jackson was putting us through there was barely any time to get a word in, not to mention the fact that everyone was panting trying to catch their breath in between drills.
But finally when Coach Jackson blew his whistle and dismissed everyone I caught Jason as we were walking back to the locker room. “Parking lot.” He mouthed to me as we followed the other guys in. I nodded and went over to Brad’s and my lockers to get showered and changed.
I caught Brad as he was grabbing a towel. “Hey man, I need to go back to the library again before I head home so I’ll meet you back at the house before dinner, alright?”
“You sure, brother? I’m sure Coach wouldn’t mind spreading his legs and keeping me occupied while you’re working. How long do you need?”
“Probably a couple hours.” I lied, scratching the back of my head. I hated lying, especially to Brad of all people, but I wanted to protect Jason.
“Dang.” Brad replied. “I mean, Coach Jackson is usually up for a good fuck or two in the afternoons but I’d be pushing my luck if I asked him to keep his legs open for a couple hours.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’ll catch you at home, okay?”
“Okay brother. See you at home.” He said, throwing his towel over his head. “I don’t know why you’re still busting your ass with school. You’ve already sent in your applications, so you’re pretty much done at this point.”
“You know me. . .” I shrugged. “I can’t not do homework.”
“Nerd.” He laughed, shaking his head.
As Brad Williams turned onto his street he checked the time before he pulled into the driveway.
“Three hours to kill. . .” He mumbled to himself. He stopped the car and thought for a moment before he put the car in reverse and sped past his house, pulling up the contact in his phone.
The voice answered on the other line before the end of the first ring. “I can be wherever you want me to be in five minutes, Brad Williams.” Greg Foster spoke into the phone a little too hastily.
“Always eager to please. . . “ Brad said with a grin. “Where might I find that tight hole of yours, Mr. F?”
“I’m at the office. You tell me the time and place and this tight hole will be there waiting for you. Anywhere you want.”
“You know what, Mr. Foster?” Brad said, thinking. “I’ll come to you. I’ve always wanted to fuck a CEO during office hours.”
“Oh fuck. . .” Greg Foster huffed into the phone, the sound of his zipper being pulled down in the background.
“Put your cock up, Mr. F.” Brad laughed, grinning. “Be at your car in 10 minutes.”
“10 minutes.” Mr. Foster repeated into the phone, not able to hide his excitement.
“And Mr. Foster?”
“Uh huh?” Greg Foster replied, his heart beating fast.
“I’m gonna use the fuck out of that throat and dadpussy of yours. I hope you know that.”
“Aw fuck. . .” He muttered into the phone, not even caring how desperate for cock he appeared anymore.
“You got lube?”
“Fuck, I guess you really meant it when you said you aren’t getting any, huh Mr. F?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“Better go out and get some lube then.” Brad continued. “10 minutes.”
“10 minutes. . . “ Mr. Foster mumbled, trying to gauge how much time he would need. “I- I’ll make it work.”
“Now that’s what I like to hear.” Brad grinned, hanging up.
Greg Foster pressed 1 on his office phone and waited for it to blink. He cleared his throat as he shifted from the submissive cockslut he was for Brad Williams back into the high-powered corporate CEO who’d built his own empire from the ground up before he had even turned 30. “Sheryl. Hold my calls and cancel my 4:45 and 5:15. I’m stepping out for a while.”
“Both, sir?” His secretary panicked. “But these are platinum accounts! How much time do you need, sir?”
He took his finger off the button and sat back in his chair, with a dreamy look on his face. “As much time as he wants.”
Once the last of the guys finished washing up I went out to the parking lot and spotted Jason Foster’s car parked over behind the bleachers.
I heard the doors unlock as I approached and I got in on the passenger’s side, not fully knowing what to expect.
“Thanks Ollie. . .” He mumbled, not really able to look me in the eye.
“Of course, Jason. I figured you’d want to talk after what happened yesterday.”
His face broke out into a grin for the first time all afternoon. “Honestly, between you and me man, I wasn’t planning on doing much talking.”
He put his hand on my knee and looked at me, expectantly.
“I’m good for that too.” I laughed.
He leaned across the seat and kissed me, his arm working its way up from my knee and up to my shoulders, feeling my muscles through my shirt. He inhaled deeply, thrusting his tongue into my mouth.
“I broke up with Rachel.” He said, in between laps with his tongue.
I pulled away. “Oh, Jason, man I-“
“Relax, Ollie, I didn’t do it because of you.” He laughed.
“No man, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I like dudes. A lot.”
I had to admit, I was surprised by his self-assuredness. It seemed the confused, soul-searching Jason I had been expecting was long gone.
“That’s great, Jason, really. But I have to let you know before anything goes too far. . . I’m in a serious relationship. With a guy.”
“Yeah?” He asked, sitting back to listen.
“Yeah. We. . . we love each other.”
“I see. . .” He nodded.
“He’s cool with me having sex with other people. Like really cool. In fact he loves it.” I said, trying to gauge his reaction.
“Look Ollie, I honestly just want to hook up. Okay? Nothing serious.”
“Got it. I just wanted to be upfront. We can fool around, but that’s it.”
“That’s perfect, dude. I just got out of a long-term relationship with a chick and I have no desire to get involved with anyone else for a while. I was just hoping I could. . .”
“Get your rocks off with a dude?” I grinned.
“Yeah.” He laughed, breathing a little easier.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Honestly man?” He shrugged. “I kind of want to suck your dick and then have you fuck me in the back seat.”
“I think we can definitely make that happen.” I grinned, leaning in to kiss him again, this time reaching my hand under his shirt.
Greg Foster raced through the parking garage, his tires screeching to a halt as he pulled his luxury sports car into his parking space.
He couldn’t believe what he had just done. Greg Foster, CEO of a Fortune 500 Company, easily one of the most powerful, revered men in the entire state of California, had walked into the nearest 7/11 and stepped up to the cash register with a tube of lube. Like some fucking teenager hoping he gets laid after prom. And fuck if he wasn’t rock hard the whole time. He’d never been so horny in his life. And all to impress this horny 18 year-old. An 18 year-old on his own son’s football team. It was all so sordid. So illicit. He was fucking an 18 year-old. Strike that. An 18 year-old was fucking him.
And he was getting off on it.
After spending the last 30 years climbing the corporate ladder, he had nowhere left to rise. Hell, his name was on the fucking building he was parked under right now. He was the cream of the crop. He’d been calling all the shots for as long as he could remember. Hell, it’d been years since he’d encountered anyone who wasn’t terrified of him. No one could even look him in the eye.
Except for Brad Williams.
Brad Williams could look him in the eye. He could look him in the eye as he told him to suck on his fat jock cock. He could look him in the eye as his strong, quarterback hands reached into his slacks and played with his CEO executive hole as he told him he was going to fuck it. Brad Williams could look him in the eye as he sank his jock cock into his CEO executive cunt and made it open up for him so he could take it. Finally. Someone else was calling the shots.
And he fucking loved it. He craved it. He needed to be used. He wanted this horny 18 year-old to use his holes to get off. For the past 25 years he’d had access to the most exclusive, high profile pussy the world had to offer. Potential clients sending the most sought after prostitutes over to his room to try and solidify a partnership between their business and Greg Foster. But no. No fancy hotel rooms. No high-class call girls. Now he was sitting patiently in his car waiting to suck off and get fucked by a horny 18 year-old football player.
And he was having the best sex of his life.
Like clockwork, just as 4:30 came around, he saw Brad Williams pull up right beside him. All of the entire row of parking spots in this section of the garage were reserved for him, but he couldn’t help but feel so exposed out here in the open as this athlete stared him down through the window.
He unlocked the door and Brad Williams got into the passenger seat and looked over at him.
“Thanks for making yourself available, Mr. F.” The athlete smirked. His hands went down to his own zipper and he brought it down slowly before pulling out his fat jock cock. “Now bend over and suck my cock.”
Greg Foster couldn’t lean down and get his lips around that jock cock fast enough.
“That’s it, Mr. F.” Brad moaned, pushing the executive’s head down on his cock. “Damn, you’re good at sucking cock.” He reached underneath him and snapped the strap of his jockstrap against his skin with a loud crack. “You keep it up and I’ll let you take this thing home.” Mr. Foster whimpered in response. “Fuck, by the end of the school year you could have a whole drawer full of my used jockstraps and it would never be enough, huh Mr. F?”
Mr. Foster had his cock out and was stroking it as he gave this 18 year-old a blowjob in the front seat of his luxury sport scar. Every so often the man would hastily take his hand off of it, like it was suddenly searing hot, going down on the athlete’s cock even more hungrily.
Brad Williams held down the man’s head as he got his cock sucked and reached the other across the seat and wrapped it around the man’s rock hard prick.
“MMMM!” The man shook his head vigorously, trying to back away from Brad’s grip on his cock but not willing to separate from that jock cock for one second.
“You’re gonna cum again just from sucking me off again, aren’t you Mr. F?” He took his hand off the poor man’s cock and instead unbuttoned the top few buttons of the man’s shirt and started running his hand along his toned, hairy chest.
He found the man’s nipple and started pulling on it, making sure to give it a good pinch.
“MMMM!” Greg Foster shook his head for a second time, and again refusing to pry his mouth off the jock cock in front of him for one second.
“Make me cum, Mr. F. My second nut’s going in your cunt.” Brad told him, thrusting his hips up and fucking the man’s throat while he reached underneath the man’s fancy designer slacks and ran his hand along his taint.
Mr. Foster went down on him with renewed vigor as the athlete fucked his throat, pinching the poor man’s nipple and pulling it hard.
“MMMMMM!” Greg Foster groaned, his cock throbbing.
“Do it, Mr. F.” Brad groaned, feeling his cum starting to boil up. “Cum with me.”
He thrust up as far as he could go up the man’s throat and started shooting, pulling the man’s nipple with him, causing Greg Foster’s eyes to roll to the back of his head.
Completely untouched, his rock hard cock fired off, splattering all over the steering wheel as the jock cock currently grinding up his throat continued shooting. The extreme pleasurable pain in his nipple was almost excruciating, only outmatched by the sensation his firing prick was giving him as he unloaded, completely untouched.
They road out their orgasms together, completely at the mercy of the other’s efforts. Finally, Brad Williams released the man’s nipple, causing it to burn as it was freed.
Reluctantly, Greg Foster pulled off of the athlete’s cock as he had unfortunately siphoned all of the jock cum he was going to get from it. At least from this round.
“Fuck Mr. F. . .” Brad panted, coming down from his orgasm. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever heard of who can cum just from sucking cock.”
“I can’t help it.” Mr. Foster sighed, wiping his face, despite the fact that he had successfully swallowed every ounce of jock cum he had drawn out of him. “It’s too hard not to cum when you let me suck you off off, Brad Williams.”
“When I let you suck me off. . .” Brad repeated with a slight grin. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
Mr. Foster took the athlete’s sill-hard and sensitive cock in his hand and carefully licked up any remnants of jock cum left on it, making sure to not give it too much stimulation so soon after such an intense orgasm.
“You’ve gotta let me suck this cock more often, Brad Williams.” He panted, licking around the head. “I’ll. . . I’ll pay you. $300 dollars to let me suck you off again. Whenever you want. I’ll come to you.”
Brad Williams shook his head, laughing. “I don’t fuck people for money Mr. Foster.”
The man looked down, disappointed. “I’m so sorry. . .I- I didn’t mean-“
“Don’t worry about it, Mr. F. I won’t let you pay me to suck me off, but what you can do is just make your throat and your hole available whenever I need you to be.”
Mr. Foster looked so happy, he could barely contain himself.
“Look, I’ve got steady pussy at home.” Brad continued. “Probably more than I need. But if I ever need you to suck me off or give up that dadcunt, I need to know that I can count on you.”
Greg Foster ran his tongue along the sizable shaft of the athlete’s cock, hungrily. “Any time. Any place, Brad Williams. You say the word, I’ll be there. Day or night. You never have to hesitate to call.” He looked up at him with wanting eyes. “Please. . . Please don’t hesitate.”
“You got it Mr. F.” Brad sighed, laying back in the seat. “Now get that tight dadcunt slicked up and ready for me.”
Half-way across town, in another luxury sports car, I was pounding into Jason Foster in the back as he made out with me.
“Oh god, Ollie, I think I’m gonna cum again!” He winced as he jacked himself off as I railed into him. The fresh load I had just fucked out of him was still dripping down his toned torso, but I could read all the signs that he was about to shoot again.
“Do it, Jason. Shoot it.” I made sure to hit his prostate with every thrust and saw the eyes roll into the back of his head as he once again began to erupt, covering up the mess all over his chest from before with a fresh load of paint.
By now I couldn’t hold back anymore and I began to shoot my load, deep inside of him. I kissed up and down his neck as I let the sensation come over me.
For the next five minutes we made out as we came back down to earth, my cock finally popping out of his ass, exhaustedly.
“Fuck, I missed that.” He sighed, leaning his head back.
“What, getting fucked? Making out with another guy?”
“All of it.” He turned to me, looking serious. “Are you going to tell Brad about all this?”
“It’s hard for me to lie to him. He’s my brother. But I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
He looked like he was thinking hard about something.
“Fuck, I can’t not ask.” He sighed.
“Ask what?” I replied, confused. I could tell whatever it was, it was really hard for him to get right out and say it.
“Is. . .” He began before pausing. “Is Brad fucking Coach Jackson?”