I grew up in NE Colorado, in a town firmly centered on farming and cattle raising. My dad had a service station in town so I was a "townie", living among apple cheeked farm boys and lean and supple cowboys. Like having to choose between pie or cake for dessert. But one common denominator was they all liked getting their rocks off as often as possible. Of course we are talking about purely "straight" guys here who would have been outraged at any hint that they might be gay. They all had girlfriends who might rarely give them a handjob after a lot of agonized pleading but they would NEVER put that nasty, hard, precum oozing thing in their mouths. Yuck!! It was bad enough when giving a hand job and suddenly the guy started moaning and convulsing and spraying that sticky white stuff all over your hand. Even the thought of that shooting into your mouth was just TOO disgusting to contemplate.
Sooooo, as an enterprising young guy who recognized a market that needed servicing and felt he was uniquely qualified to provide that service, I started setting up my goal in the old tried and true method of "word of mouth" (no pun intended) to get me an in. I started carefully picking out the best starter dude who I knew would probably be willing and would certainly not hesitate to spread the word. Voila!! Keith Larson stood out as the prime candidate. Even among horny teenagers he was over the top. He loved to come up behind and dry hump guys and he was constantly throwing boners in class which he proudly showed off to his buddies causing much snickering and evil looks from the teacher. His proud hard ons also indicated a really nice big cock which was a plus. So I set my plan in motion.
After football practice one day I asked Keith to stay late and help me with some tackling techniques. This meant a lot of body to body contact which I took full advantage of to rub and grind (totally innocently!) full length against his body which soon provided the desired response. After one tackle I could see the outline of his erection under his uniform pants. So next time I tackled him I wrapped my arms around his waist and twisted so he landed on his back which left my face right in his crotch. He was rock hard and I pushed my face right into his dick. I pretended to be surprised. "You have a hard on!" "I know" he moaned "I have a hard on 24/7 and all the jacking off I do only keeps it happy for a few hours at best." "But what about Monica, doesn't she help you out?" He sounded really desperate and pathetic. "I have begged her for at least a hand job and she finally agreed which really thrilled me. But then when we were alone in the car, I unzipped and let my dick loose and reminded her of her promise. She said ok, I reclined the seat back, closed my eyes and prepared for heaven. Next thing I feel is something cold on my dick. I look down and she is wearing a rubber glove!! I mean that is just SO wrong!! My hard on just collapsed and we ended up having a big fight and she's not my girlfriend any more."
Outwardly I was all sympathy, "jeez bud that's a bummer. Let's call this quits and go shower and talk this out some more, ok?" Inwardly I was all abuzz with hope and anticipation. As we jogged off the field to the locker room I realized I was sporting some major wood!! I was also sporting a major grin.
to be continued......
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