My son, My trade

The following is a work of erotic fiction meant to be enjoyed by an adult audience.

The high school gymnasium was packed with spectators.  There was excitement in the air.  Earlier in the day the place had been host to a school pep rally, attended by many students and faculty members.  Now the perky cheerleaders were repeating their performance for the game crowd.  Their youthful bouncing tits and mind boggling splits sparked many erotic thoughts for the male (and a few female) members of the audience dominating the bleachers on both sides of the brightly illuminated gym.  This was a big game.  The victor would be advancing to regional tournaments, and that winner to state.  The teams had been practicing for a solid two hours five days a week.  Their respective coaches had put them through strenuous drills, strength training and coordination exercises.  They gathered to review film playback of previous games, sharpening up on both offensive and defensive plays.  Tonight they were as ready as they would ever be. 

Coach James Webb stood in the home team locker room giving his boys a rousing, last-minute pep talk while Assistant Coach Clayton Washington looked on.  For Webb defeat was not acceptable.  In all his years he had never come this close to leading a team to regionals.  This group of twelve was his dream team, primarily due to the outstanding talent of Marc Hauser.  He had never before seen a kid play on (and off) the court with such enthusiasm and acumen.  It was little wonder the others had named him team captain. The good-natured, handsome teen had already landed a full scholarship at a prestigious university, home to an impressive basketball team headed up by Coach Brad Johnston.  His future looked bright, indeed.

Even through the walls of the humid, hormone-scented locker room they could hear the roars of the gathered fans, which served to rev them up even more.  All the dads, most of the moms, and scores of town people were in attendance.  They weren't segregated; local and visitors were seated together.  To avoid any potential problems from over-avid fans the local police force was represented with assistance from school security.  The majority of games this year were well-attended, mainly by the players fathers, uncles, grandfathers but also by fans of Marc.  Webb always threw wood looking around the stands and wondering how many of them had fucked the boy.  Along with being a stellar athlete Marc Hauser was a cock hungry bottom.  If rumors were correct, his father was selling his ass weekends at a corner bar. 

Webb had been fucking him for years.  So had his new bi-racial assistant, Clayt.  The way the team horsed around in the showers Webb had a good idea most of squad had gotten a piece, too.  To look at him one would never suspect it.  Seemed like any other butch young buck, but in the private company of men he was a cock whore.  As skilled with sex as he was on the basketball court, Marc could do things with his mouth and cute, tight ass that no girl ever could.  He was insatiable in the sack, spurring his conquests on to multiple ejaculations.  Webb was even further convinced quite a few adult males in the stands tonight would be thinking about an after-game celebration with the star player.  They would have to wait.  If, no, when they were district champions there would be a massive commemoration right here in the locker room.  Of that Coach Webb was certain.

Washington listened to Coach's highly motivational speech while his eyes roamed over the twelve highly attentive boys.  He recalled a time, not all that long ago, when he was one of them, heeding his own Coach's speech.  His school had successfully made it to regionals, and then balked at state.  Regardless, he could remember his excitement---and nervousness---at this crucial time.  Webb was saying all the right things to bolster the team's confidence.  These boys all wanted it, were hungry for victory.  Eight black, three white and one Hispanic, they were fired up and ready to play. 

Washington rested his chocolate-colored eyes on Marc Hauser, who was as eager as the rest to get out on the court and battle it out.  It was nearly impossible to believe that the good-looking slim and toned teen had taken his big, ten-inch black meat in the Coach's private shower only three days ago.  They were standing under the warm, massaging spray, Clayton holding onto Marc's haunches, Marc wrapping his athletic legs around Clayt's waist and his arms around the back of his neck while Clayton fucked him.

A fine-looking bi-racial man, Clayton had the best assets of his white mother and black father.  Throughout high school and college he had no trouble getting pussy whenever he wanted.  And Clayton always wanted.  Wasn't until his first job as assistant Coach in another school that he sampled dumb jock pussy.  Head Coach there was a pig for the stuff and coerced Clayton into taking the plunge.  Clayton was practically a newlywed at the time, relatively new in the position, and Coach Kowalski was a tenured staple there.  So he did it.  The boy, a real muscled-up, hardcore athlete with a dim bulb turned out to be prime pussy.  He and Kowalski, teamed-up or solo, fucked that kid clear through to his graduation.  Kowalski was downright depressed when Ryan was gone; Clayton had by then accepted a position in another school.  Where, lo and behold, he encountered Marc Hauser, another Ryan Baldwin.  Marc was actually better, much better, than Clayton's wife, who was now into her sixth month of a difficult pregnancy, nauseous all the time and in no mood for sex.  Marc was something of a blessing.

Game time.  The best five athletes from each team took to the court amongst much applause.  Marc Hauser was, of course, one of them.  In the center of the court jump ball began the game with home team in control.  What followed was an exciting four quarters of fouls, timeouts, penalty shots, clock stoppages and substitutions.  It was proving to be the best game of the entire season, both teams displaying why they were in this honorable position.  In the stands the players' dads were either loudly cheering their boys or calling foul on the opposing team.  Buck Hauser, father to Marc, was surrounded by his son's adoring "fans."  They were all there.  Ralphie Hilliard and his bi-brother Georgie sat to each side of Buck.  Alongside them and on rows in front of and behind them were the likes of Frank Warren, Lance Majors, Clayton Hoyt, Dickie Amalfatano, Sammy Hodges, Bobby Bonerz and a few other bar regulars, including the one they called Nanook.  Buck had earlier seen all of Marc's friends: Billy, Byran, Jason, Joey, Gordy and Harley.  He'd also spied Gage Bramble lurking about with his lapdog buddy, Jay Kovacs.  On one of the lower seats were old-timers Hank Rochester and Clyde Clemmons, accompanied by grizzled garage owner Joe Stankowitz.  Even the Russian Ivan, chauffeur and companion to ancient Marek Stankovich, was out of uniform and in attendance.  Marc was fully represented. 

Half-time came all too soon.  The score was close; too close for comfort.  Home team was a mere few points ahead.  Adrenaline was running high.  All in Buck's section were praising the game Marc was playing.  The kid truly was a star athlete.  When Georgie turned in profile to address Buck the spectator behind him, not one of their group, stiffened.  Will Hutchins, attending the game with his buddy Paul, whose son played on the opposing team, had earlier recognized the gifted competitor as the teen who had showed him glory hole heaven a few weeks back.  And the dude seated in front of him had been with the boy at the time.  Will had been more diligently attending games, obsessed with learning the identity of the cocksucker he had observed leaving the "book store."  The kid had left quite an impression on the hunky, married dock worker.  His search came to an end this evening when he saw that same boy take the court and now his cohort in glory hole crime was seated directly in front of him.

"Marc's playing one hell of a game," Georgie was saying to the hunky man seated next to him.  "Bet you're real proud of your son." 

Will's eyes widened and he nearly gasped aloud.  Paul was saying something to him but Will, barely hearing his words, merely nodded in response.  "Marc" just had to be his target and the dark haired man his father.  The entire section seemed to be fans of the boy judging by the way they turned to the man with high fives and bumping fists.  Will could just imagine why.  He sure would like to be in that dad's boots, having a hot son like Marc at his disposal all day and night.  He wondered if the father even knew what his boy did when not leading his team.  His question was answered momentarily.

"Gonna be a big celebration down at the bar after the game?" Georgie was talking across Buck to his brother.

Ralphie shrugged.  "Maybe, if we win."

"When we win," Buck corrected him.  "I'm thinkin' the price is gonna double tonight.  Marc'll be a town hero.  Might as well cash in."

Will's ears were straining above the din of the crowd to eavesdrop on the conversation.  What bar?  What transaction?  What did the kid have to do with it?

"Fuck, Buck.  If---when we win we're all gonna be lining up to share in the celebration," Georgie gleefully responded. 

Buck's eyes were on the cheerleaders doing their half time show, shaking their tight little asses in those short uniforms they wore.  He briefly wondered if Marc had gotten any of that pussy.  "The party at Ralph's is gonna have to wait 'til later tonight.  I'm sure there's gonna be a lot of action in that locker room after the game."

"Damn, I'd like to be in on that," Georgie excitedly reacted.  "Hope they don't wear him out."

Buck looked over to Georgie as if he was stupid.  "Have you ever known Marc to tire out?"

"Went from six until near midnight last weekend, so I heard," Ralph piped in.  "That true, Buck?"

"Yup," Buck replied, growing hard watching the cheerleaders.  "Made over a thousand in six hours."

Ralph whistled.  Will's eyes flared.  Putting it all together he suddenly realized Dad was pimping out his boy.  At a bar called Ralph's.  Where he would be putting on a command performance after the game.  Taking the plunge, Will leaned over to Buck's shoulder.  "That your boy in the number 5?"

Buck didn't even look back at him.  He merely responded.  "That's my Marc."  Georgie, however, did take a gander at the man and liked what he saw.  Darkly handsome, very husky and awesome top material. 

"Pretty fantastic player," Will ventured on.  "I'm here for the competing team but I've got to say your boy is probably the best one out on that court.  Could have a great future in college ball."

"Thanks," Buck replied, flattery winning him over.  Turning to look up at him for the first time he saw a good looking dude of about his age, masculine and muscular.  He offered his hand.  "Buck," he said.

Will took him in an equally strong grip and announced, "Will.  Will Hutchins." 

"Which boy is yours?" Buck asked.

"Not mine.  I'm here with my buddy, Paul.  His son is number 21."

"I noticed him," Georgie joined in.  He offered his hand.  "I'm Georgie Hilliard, Buck---and Marc's---friend."  More likely the kid's glory hole buddy, Will thought.  He was already quite familiar with Georgie, except that now he had a name to attach to an anonymous mouth.  It was obvious Georgie was attracted to him.  Lust was written all over his face.

"Say," Georgie went on, anxious to get in this man's pants, "we're having an after-game celebration over at my brother's bar.  Ralph's Place.  You know it?"

Will shook his head.  "I'm not from around."

"It's on Sycamore, down by the waterfront," Georgie explained.  "Bring your friend.  All are welcome."  Although after a glance at the hot stud's buddy Georgie wasn't all that interested in him. 

Fat chance, Will thought.  Good thing he'd taken his own car.  "Maybe I will," he said.

Buck bounced back into the conversation.  "Sure, come on down.  I'll buy you a beer."  Marc would like this guy.

Throwing caution to the wind, Will leaned closer to Buck's ear and asked, "How much?"

Buck didn't hesitate.  "Fifty if we lose.  One hundred when we win."

Will smiled and Georgie melted when he saw those deep, delicious dimples.  "I'm in," he announced.

By now the teams had returned to the court and the game was once again under way.  Both aggressively battled it out.  Visitors would score a point; Home countered.  Buck noted one particularly talented player on the opposing team and realized it was Paul's son, number 21.  The kid was good.  Muscled-up, too.  Didn't usually see that on the b-ball court. 

After fouls and stoppages of play the nail-biting game had already run nearly an hour and a half.  The clock was ticking.  Score was tied.  Number 21 had possession of the ball and was barreling to the hoop.  Home team spectators held their breath, fearing the worst.  Blocked, 21 passed but the ball was intercepted by Elijah Williams, who valiantly attempted to reach his side of the court.  He knew he wasn't going to make it.  Seeing Marc Hauser slightly ahead and practically wide open he tossed the ball to him.  Mere seconds remained on the clock.  Marc knew he couldn't gain enough ground.  He dribbled, jumped and chanced a buzzer-beater shot.  The ball made contact with the rim, danced around and dropped in a second before the end of quarter buzzer sounded.

There was a thunderous uproar from the home team spectators as they jumped to their feet in victory.  Dejected silence from the losing side.  So close, yet so far.  The winning team was joyously elated, gathered in a huddle and lifting Marc up on their shoulders.  Marc Hauser had sealed the deal and heavily assisted in advancing them to the regionals.  Coach Webb was thrilled, all smiles from ear to ear.  Principal Whethers hadn't looked this happy since, well, the last time Marc rode on his fat lap.  Will shook Buck's hand, congratulating him on the win.  Paul offered his as well.  Buck politely voiced his regrets for the man's loss, although he wouldn't have wanted it to end any other way.

It was a mob scene attempting to exit the gymnasium and maneuver the hallway leading out of the school into the parking lot.  The Hauser group parted, all agreeing to meet up at Ralph's Bar to celebrate their win.  In their locker room the team was riding a victorious high.  Webb quieted things down enough to make a congratulatory speech and praise the entire team for their performance.  Principal Whethers stopped in to do the same.  He loved that distinctive scent of boy sweat only to be found in a locker room.  Often times he wished he had pursued a career in physical education so he could enjoy it all the time.  Once the Principal departed Coaches Webb and Washington left the boys to shower up and share their victory together.

The gymnasium had pretty much cleared out by now and the school maintenance crew was already at work tidying the place up.  Webb was on his way across the floor to commend the opposing Coach on a game well played.  Coach Thompson, having just consoled his boys with his concession speech, assuring them they had played an excellent game and should feel proud of their accomplishment in having made it this far, was en route to congratulate the winner with his team captain in tow.  They met at the mid-way point, slapping paws and trading congrats and regrets. 

Terrell Thompson was a tall black man, towering over Webb at 6'4", an ex-college basketball player himself.  Webb figured he was somewhere around early 40s, not a bad looking sort with deep-set chocolate brown eyes, obtuse large-nostriled nose, thick, full lips and wooly, close-cropped hair.  Probably weighing in at about two forty or fifty.  Strong biceps strained the short sleeves of his school polo.

Mike Matthews, number 21, was a good looking boy, although disappointment showed on his face.  His b-ball uniform did little to hide a young wrestler's build.  He had broad shoulders, biceps like halved bowling balls and thick, athletic hairy legs.  His dark hair was buzzed short, eyes were hazel colored and his mouth strong and full.  He appeared a bit sheepish, obviously feeling the agony of defeat.

"Matthews here is our team captain," Thompson was saying.  "He'd like to congratulate your captain."

Webb put a strong hand on Matthews’ shoulder.  "Son, you played a terrific game.  I know how hard this is on you.  But you have nothing to be sorry for.  I was watching you the entire game and would be proud to have you on my team.  Great things are ahead for you."

"Thanks, Coach," he replied humbly in a deep, baritone voice no seventeen-year-old should possess.  Both Coaches knew it would be awhile before the young man got over the loss.

"Come on into our locker room," Coach invited.  "I'll introduce you to number 5, our team captain.  Marc Hauser."  Webb directed them in through the Coach's office where two large windows looked into the changing room.  One gave a view of the first few rows of lockers while the other looked directly into the shower area.  Coach Webb had been privy to many interesting sights from these observation areas.  Currently the showers were not in use, nor could any of the players could be seen in the frontal locker area.

Webb led them through the connecting door into the large space.  There were twelve rows of double-sided lockers with a long bench between each.  After the fifth row to the right and behind a tiled wall was the open shower with a dozen heads, six on each side which egress from the front and back.  Beyond was a storage room, bathroom facilities and an exit in the back which led either into the gymnasium or out to the sports field and track.

Hearing activity towards the rear Webb ventured on with his guests.  When they rounded the last row of lockers they found the team.  Nine teens were gathered around the long bench with their athletic shorts lowered and stroking their hard cocks.  Stripped nude down to the balls of his feet, Marc Hauser lay across the narrow bench with legs up and head angled down over the near edge.  While Jorge Rodriguez, a Puerto Rican youth, fed him a long, uncut chorizo Elijah Williams was aggressively pounding his asshole with black dick.

"Damn!" Matthews exclaimed, his eyes gone wide.  Thompson whistled low and chuckled.  "I've heard of letting off steam after a game, but this is a new one on me."

Webb cursed himself.  He should have realized something like this would be going on.  After all, what other way would Marc have wanted to celebrate with his teammates?  Shrugging, he nervously said, "You know how it is, boys being boys and all." 

"That's some boy," Thompson replied, raising an eyebrow suggestively.  "Not only can he play good ball but he can take it from both ends.  Just look at the way he's swallowing that dick!"  Webb relaxed when he saw the man absently bring a big brown hand down to his crotch and squeeze.

"C-can I get some of that?  I mean, like, I know I'm not part of the team and all, but---"  It was Matthews, who looked very aroused.

"Rodgriuez, step aside!" Webb ordered.

Jorge looked over at the man in disbelief.  "Aw, c'mon Coach.  I'm just about to get my nut!"

"Later," Webb told him gruffly.  "We've got visitors here."  He made the introductions.  Some of the others let go of their cocks long enough to fist bump Mike Matthews. 

Jorge reluctantly drew his cock back from Marc's wet lips and joined his fellow teammates on the sidelines.  Marc rose up enough to look back at the two guests, instantly recognizing the young muscle-bound hunk and his charcoal Coach.  "Hey, what's goin' on?" he greeted in a ball-chilling voice as deep as Matthews'.

Mike stepped out of his athletic shorts, leg tights and compression briefs and came forward to plant his thick legs to either side of Marc with his hard dick hovering over the other teen's face.  Marc took it in an underhanded grip and stroked it a few times.  Mike had a very healthy boy cock, smooth and fully erect, arcing out and up nicely at a thick eight inches.  Its impressive head was glossy and plump.  Marc lifted his head to swipe his tongue up the underside.  Mike's muscle body shuddered and he hunkered down to meet Marc's open mouth.  Marc swiveled his lips around the tasty meat and took it in.  Mike hadn't yet showered after the game so his goods smacked of teen sweat, which was perfectly fine by Marc.  Marc voraciously sucked on the prick while Elijah continued to skewer him from the other side. 

Elijah sported 9.5 inches of black cock and was using every bit of it to fuck his teammate.  Extending an arm he bumped fists with Mike and said, "Good game" while the white boy was learning the other talents of Marc Hauser.  Around them the rest of his team continued casually jerked their dicks, anxiously awaiting their turn.  Marc had scored the tie-breaking basket, securing their position in the regionals, and deserved to be rewarded accordingly. 

Mike took hold of Marc by the sides of his head hanging over the edge of the bench and began fucking his face.  Marc's tongue was flicking all over his unit while he continually slurped on the fucktube.  All at once Marc's throat opened and Mike's dick slid clear to the root into heaven.  He groaned with pleasure as he felt Marc's throat vibrating along his buried cock.  Marc's tongue slithered out from between his stuffed lips and licked at Mike's bloated ball sac.  Mike had never felt anything like it.  Clasping his hands around the back of Marc's head to hold him steady he commenced fucking the teen's throat with long, full strokes.  Marc's hands were stretched back, holding on to Mike's hard, beefy haunches and feeling each dimpling and flex of his muscular buttocks.

Sweat was dripping off Elijah's black body.  His eyes were wide and intent.  He was frantically chewing on his over-sized lower lip.  He knew he was getting dangerously close.  With just a few more strokes he planted himself deep, panting "I'm gonna shoot!"  Throwing back his head, gritting his teeth and shivering in ecstasy he pumped his load deep into Marc's guts.  The other boys watched with wonderment, hopeful it would soon be each of them getting their nut as satisfyingly as Elijah apparently was.

Mike was just as in awe as the others.  He wanted some of that ass, too!  Elijah remained locked in for a short while as Marc squeezed every last drop from his cock with those awesome inner muscles of his.  Cripes, Marc could get a guy off without the top doing anything!  Just put the dick in and let Marc do his thing with it.  Finally Elijah pulled his black snake from the still-gripping quim and, on shaky legs, stepped back.  "Really need me a shower now," he nervously joked to the envious on-lookers.

"Good job, Williams," Coach Webb praised him, adding, "on the court this evening, I mean."  There were some chuckles from the others.

Before anyone else could stake claim Mike almost reluctantly slipped his dripping cock from Marc's mouth and padded over to his raised, recently abandoned ass.  Poised at Marc's puffy portal he shucked his team t-shirt, revealing his muscled-up chest and chiseled abs.  With more work and dedication Mike could easily compete in junior bodybuilding.  Cupping the back of his head in his hands Marc observed the little he-man poised between his spread thighs and liked what he saw.  Mike placed his cock head against Marc's fuckhole and fed himself into the basketball champ.  Marc was all expectation, savoring each inch as it filled his asshole.  Buried to the bush inside his on-the-court rival Mike's strapping frame shuddered and he whimpered as he felt Marc's asshole chewing at his cock.  It was like some steamy, squirming cauldron inside, caressing and squeezing his tweenhood in its slick, wet and tight sheath.  The pussy on his girlfriend, Shauna, never felt this good!

All teen age impatience, Mike began pounding Marc's ass.  Marc gritted his teeth and took it like the champ he was.  He'd learned there was nothing better than a rough, dirty fuck.  He slapped his palms against Mike's flexing, rounded pectoral plates, grabbing and squeezing.  His thumbs worked the protruding nipples, which were hard as the team captain's cock.  Mike groaned his appreciation and fucked even harder.  Sweat was already dripping from his brow and raining down onto Marc's chest and belly. 

Ebony and ivory dicks appeared to either side of Marc's face.  He didn't even care to see which of his fellow teammates they belonged to, turning to first face the white boy's cock.  Spreading his lips, he scarfed it right down.  Hearing the sigh of the teen he slurped on the dick while his throat convulsed around its buried inches.  Not to be left out of the action, blackie nudged his cockhead against Marc's spread lips and muscled himself in.  Clearing his throat of the pale piece but permitting it to remain in his mouth he piggishly sucked on both cocks.  Taking each in a hand he fervently stroked their remaining inches while his tongue swirled around the leaking heads.  Quick on the trigger, whitie yanked his dick out and hands free squirted.  His cum first splashed against blackie's groin and then on Marc's stroking hand, making the dark dick even slicker.  No sooner had the satisfied boy stepped away that he was replaced by another black dick.  Marc slobbered over both pieces, going back and forth from one to the other and then taking them together.

Mike could hardly believe what he was seeing, this seemingly butch athlete who had defeated him so fervently sucking dick.  The whole damned team was into it!  Mike wondered if they had themselves a team orgy after every game.  Fuck, he must be playing on the wrong squad.  This team captain's pussy was prime stuff, milking his cock with its asswalls each time he shoved deep.  As he plowed the hungry twat he couldn't help but wonder if it felt as good for Marc as it did for him.  In fact, just how did it feel having a hard dick up your asshole?  The way this baby butch bottom was reacting it must feel awful good. 

The first black began panting, jerking and squeezing his eyes shut like he was in pain.  He pulled back until just the head was resting at the corner of Marc's parted lips and shot his load directly into the teen's mouth.  Mike's eyes bugged as he observed Marc scarf up the load.  His Adam's apple rose and fell as he swallowed and his tongue glided over the glistening head, while at the same time the other black dick plunged in and out of his face hole.  In short order this one reached its limit of endurance and was feeding thick jizz to the boy.

It was all too much for Mike, who couldn't hold back if he tried.  Every muscle in his well-developed body bulged as orgasm overtook him.  His bellowing bounced off the walls of the locker room as he came.  The contractions of Marc's gripping ass were overwhelming.  Mike looked almost comical to the others with his eyes bulging and mouth agape, hair practically standing on end.  It was almost like he'd fit his cock into an electrical outlet.  Marc's insides were wickedly squeezing his cock, making every nerve ending sizzle.  Mike's balls released gobs and gobs of cum, more than he could ever remember before, and adequately drenched Marc's sinful channel.

It felt so good up inside this stupendous sportsman that Mike didn't even want to pull out.  He was the most sexually charged he'd ever been in his young life.  The Puerto Rican who had earlier been cock blocked stepped up, yanked Marc's head back and fed him his long, dark uncut pinga.  Jorge throat fucked Marc with full, head-to-root strokes which grew in intensity with each thrust.  Marc effortlessly swallowed him down while stroking a dick to either side of him.  The teen was insatiable!  And Mike was hardly finished either.

Pulling out of the teen's phenomenal pussy with an audible squelching he wasn't at all surprised that he was still rock hard.  Spent cum lazily trickled from Marc's puffy ass lips, a combination of both Mike and Elijah's strong loads.  Mike tentatively reached out to touch Marc's pillowy boy-labia and scooped up a healthy dose of the discharge.  On an impulse he reached between his own legs and applied the goo to his own twitching asshole.  What transpired next both shocked and titillated the Coaches in attendance. 

Mike pulled down Marc's legs so he was lying prone on the bench, hauled one beefy leg over and straddled the other boy's crotch.  Reaching back he grabbed hold of his big round muscle butt and spread those beefy buns.  Shaquan Summey jumped in to assist, wrapping his black hand around Marc's nine-inch beauty and holding it in place.  Everyone watched breathlessly as the butch pretty-boy lowered himself to the prominent piece.  He brought his winking hole to the flared cockhead, took a deep breath and pushed down onto it.  His cum-lubed ass lips spread and Marc's helmet slipped inside.  Mike's eyes widened and he gasped.  His virgin pussy had been breached!  And there was pain.  For a brief moment he considered dismounting but the athlete in him prevailed.  If he could lift more than his body weight in barbells he could handle this. 

Mike ground on the cock, sliding more of it into his jock ass.  Amid cheers of encouragement he gritted his teeth and bore down, his muscle body spasming when the head slid over his prostate.  It was a first for Mike and the sensation made him shiver with pleasure.  His cock, which had only moments ago spewed a healthy load, surge with pre-cum.  Marc's cock was throbbing maddeningly inside him.  Mike was determined to take it all.  He couldn't pussy out now.  Steeling himself he silently counted to three and dropped on the big, beautiful cock. 

With Jorge pumping his throat Marc's vision was obstructed but his teen dick reveled in all the tight, moist tissue it was embedded in.  Mike's fuck channel was spasming like mad and Marc correctly assumed it was the first time the other boy had been breached.  He recalled his first time, all those years ago, at the hands (and cock) of old Marek Stankovich.  It had hurt like hell in the beginning but, oh, how good it felt after a short while.  Certainly enough to keep him going back for more.  While Muscle Mike might not realize it yet, he had just taken the leap into being a full-fledged pussy boy.  And Marc was proud that his dick was the one to christen him.

Mike fought the discomfort like a true champion as he began posting on Marc's dick.  His muscular thighs flexed as he somewhat tentatively bounced up and down.  Shaquan had long ago abandoned his position and was standing alongside them stroking his long, uncut black meat, offering words of support and hopeful the brawny teen would be hungry for a taste of him.  But all of Mike's concentration was on the big fat dick he was riding.  His fat toes curled each time the head stabbed way up there in his guts.  He chewed on his lower lip and winced, yet he refused to give in to the agony.  Marc and his team had beat them at the game; he was damned if he'd allow him to best him at this, too.

Jorge's shoulders hunched, he staggered slightly and with a shout of "Ay, Dios Mio!" shot his tangy Puerto Rican cream down Marc's throat.  Before Marc got a chance to look up and across at Mike Shaquan jumped in and took Jorge's place.  His hooded black meat chugged through Marc's lips and journeyed down his windpipe.  Marc effortlessly swallowed every ebony inch of it.  How much luckier could a guy get, he thought, with a greenhorn riding his cock and a big black dick feeding his throat?

Mike was aggressively ramming his ass on Marc's throbbing cock.  Waves of lust surged through his muscular body, diminishing the pain and replacing it with ecstasy.  To the wondrous eyes of Coach Thompson he slammed his jock ass up and down, fucking himself with a fury.  Copious amounts of clear seminal fluids continued to leak from his bouncing cock to pool on Marc's smooth chest.  "Ho-ly shit!" Terrell muttered low, absently reaching inside his pants to fondle his excited, hard meat.  He could hardly believe his eyes.  His star player, who had done just about every cheerleader on the squad, bouncing on dick!  It was unbelievable...it was shocking....it was SO FUCKING HOT! 

Marc squirmed on the bench and garbled around the big dick in his maw.  Mike's muscle ass was gripping him like a vice.  And felt fantastic!  He was now thrusting his groin upward to meet each of Mike's downward hurls.  Mike responded by hovering and letting Marc take over.  Just for a little while.  He threw back his head and groaned huskily as Marc's inches thrust up into him.  Then he was slamming his hole down again, relentlessly taking the winning athlete's dick in all its teen splendor.  Even in sex they were opposing athletes, challenging one another.  Mike jounced up and down on Marc's dick; Marc countered by heaving up into him. 

The match ended in a tie.  At precisely the same moment that Marc fed Mike's asshole with its first load of hot cum Mike's dick exploded, shooting spurt after spurt of hot cum across Marc's chest.  Mike relished all these new sensations.  Marc's dick thickening and pulsing out its warm, rich treasure deep inside him and pressing that heretofore untouched trigger felt absolutely awesome!  It was undoubtedly the most intense orgasm he had ever had.  He wanted to do it again.  And again.

Coach Terrell Thompson had seen just about enough.  With a fierce, determined look on his mug he went up behind Mike, grasped him under the arms and pulled him off Marc's prick.  Laying his star athlete on the opposing edge of the bench he took his cock in hand and shoved it up the boy's ass.  Coach Webb nudged a disappointed Shaquan out of the way, spun Marc around so he was on the other edge of the bench.  The top of both boys’ heads were abutted.  Webb yanked down his pants and his big Coach coach sprung free.  In one swift movement he buried his meat in Marc's pussy.  It was the scene Assistant Coach Clayt Washington walked in on.

Clayt clucked his tongue and grinned from one side of his mouth.  The Coaches were really throwing it to their respective players.  While his wife was going through a difficult first pregnancy Clayton had been reduced to beating off the past few months.  When he wasn't fucking Marc Hauser.  At the moment James Webb had that nice juicy pussy all tied up but that didn't mean Clayt couldn't still get some relief.  Yanking his athletic pants and jock down under his healthy, bloated ball sac he released his manhood.  Although he was bi-racial below the waistline Clayton Washington was all brutha.  His black anaconda topped off at ten thick inches and was already on its way to full glory. 

Stepping up beside Marc he turned the boy's head and slapped his heavy meat against his cheek.  Marc captured the heavy crown and sucked it and several inches of the shaft into his mouth.  Clayton groaned appreciatively as the white teen's tongue lapped at his stud cock.  Placing a hand on the athlete's cheek he tenderly caressed it with his thumb as Marc began earnestly sucking on him.

"Coach," he nodded respectfully at Thompson, who grunted in return.  Terrell was forcing himself through Mike's tight ass.  Even after taking Marc's impressive dick Mike's no-longer-virgin pussy was still taut.  Not that Terrell cared; he liked it that way.  Especially pleasurable was the way his star athlete clenched his inner muscles each time he bottomed out inside.  Thompson had begun with a nicely, leisurely all-the-way-in-all-the-way-out fuck but now he was really throwing it to the boy.  Mike gritted his teeth and bore the pain like a true athlete.  His muscle body wriggled on the bench and his burly chest heaved with each gut-wrenching thrust.  His eyes were locked with his Coach's, pained and pleading but desperate for more. 

Webb savored the unspeakable pleasures deep inside Marc's teen fuck hole.  As many times as he'd fucked him over the years he still couldn't get enough.  Marc was an equal participant, working Webb's dick with as much gusto as the Coach.  Marc's outrageous pussy could do unspeakable things to a man's cock.  Webb couldn't control the feeling of immense pleasure which possessed his body and soul each time he fucked the good looking teen.  He would be lost when the boy graduated at the end of the year and went off to college, where Coach Johnston would be getting all the glory.  An athlete like Marc could never be replaced, on the team or across his desk, but Coach had his eye on cute, blond Davey Evans.  The blue-eyed boy seemed to have a case of hero worship for him, always trying to impress.  He'd caught Davey looking once or twice through the window to his office when he'd come out of his private shower.  There were possibilities.

Marc was tugging on Clayton's balls and running his middle finger up the crack of his ass while he took the cockhead through the vibrating tunnel of his throat.  Clayton moaned huskily and rolled his tongue out between his lips as his head fell back and his eyelids fluttered.  Was no one could deep throat like the Hauser boy.  Marc took it all the way down until Clayton's thick bristly cock-bush was against his wide-stretched lips and held it down there for much longer than anyone would think possible, doing all sorts of wicked things to it.  Clayton's legs grew weak as though the boy was sapping him of his strength.  With a muffled cry he pulled back, his big dick dripping saliva and pre-cum.  On impulse he grasped Mike's head, put him into position and pushed himself between that boy's grimacing lips.  Mike had never sucked dick before, but had been the recipient enough times to know what he liked.  He took to it like a pro, nursing the chunk of dark meat and getting his first taste of pre-cum.  In short order he was thrusting his neck back and forth, sliding the dick in and out of his mouth while he sucked and tongued it.  Clayton realized he was no pro like Marc, but the kid was definitely a contender. 

Thompson blew first, his entire body jerking with fuck spasms ass he filled Mike's ass sheath with pulses of thick cum.  His convulsing cock sparked off Mike, who shot impressive jets up and across his heaving chest.  Webb followed suit, dousing Marc's pussy with healthy Coach cum.  Clayton shivered, his body tensed with climax and white hot cum exploded into Mike's mouth.  Mike choked and sputtered but, curiosity getting the better of him, swallowed.  Clay yanked his spurting dick from Mike's mouth and thrust it into Marc's, feeding him as well.  The other boys gathered closer to the group.  Stroking their teen meat they shot off all over the two athletes writhing on the bench.  Jerking his dick throughout, Marc released a youthful jet of jizz to rival all.  Both Marc and Mike, drenched in cum, panted heavily, their chests rising and falling from their sexertions. 

The team, including the superstars and Coaches, hit the showers where they washed up, amid playfully smacking ass and grabbing cock.  Shortly after the locker room was vacant, awaiting the night janitorial service to clean up the curious aftermath.

It wasn't until late that evening when Marc made his appearance at Ralph's Bar.  The joint was over-crowded.  Certainly past the allowable occupancy limit, although owner Ralph Hilliard wasn't all that concerned.  Somewhere in the crowd was Fire Chief Andy Richter and one or two of his squad.  It was well past regular closing time,  but one would be hard-pressed to notice.  Both Ralph and Buck had jumped in behind the bar to assist on-duty tender Axel.  Beer was flowing; expectations ran high.

When a freshly showered Marc walked in the entire place was filled with rousing cheers.  Dickie Amalfatano and his sidekick Dom Marino lifted him on their shoulders and the two muscle bound Italians in their wifebeater T's carried Marc through the crowd, depositing him at the door to the "playroom."  Marc shared niceties, accepted congratulations, bumped fists, slapped high fives and shook hands before disappearing behind the door. 

Standing at the crowded bar Will Hutchins took in all the admiration being shown for the good looking teen.  Georgie Hilliard was all over Will.  Had been from the moment the darkly handsome dock worker showed up at the bar.  But Will couldn't take his eyes from Marc as he was paraded through the room, his dick pulsing as he remembered the expert blow job the boy had given him through the viewing booth glory hole in the dirty book store. 

Buck came over to lean on a hairy forearm across the bar top and said to Will, "You're up first, stud."  With a nod of his head he motioned to the door through which Marc had passed.  Will broke free from a disappointed Georgie and fought his way through the raucous throng.  Shrugging his shoulders, Georgie went over to join Dickie and Dom, hopeful that he might entice them into some hot threeway action in the rest room. 

Will passed through the doorway into what appeared to be a dimly lit store room.  Another door was standing open and led to what must be the basement of the building.  Will correctly figured that was where the hot cocksucker must have gone.  He expectantly went down the stairs, rounded a partition and came upon a totally nude Marc seated on the edge of a bare and stained queen-sized mattress resting on a low platform swinging his legs while he awaited company.  The kid had been dynamite on the basketball court, yet in this seedy sexual setting he was simply breathtaking.  Slim and fit with broad shoulders, tight waist and just the right amount of teenage muscularity young Marc was quite the sight.  Will was transfixed by the boy's gorgeous emerald eyes, which were sizing him up, as well. 

Marc saw a very sexy, handsome and hunky man.  This one was on par with daddy Buck and Uncle Butch with breathtakingly good looks.  Short and thick dark hair, masculine facial features with firm jaw shadowed by late evening stubble, nice sensual, teasing mouth and hungry, glittering brown eyes.  His jeans and button-down flannel fit his frame just right, showing promise of a muscular body.  The glint from the wedding ring on the fourth finger of his left hand was not lost in Marc's bold appraisal.

"You're not from around," Marc greeted in a surprisingly deep voice that sent Will's ball hairs to tickling.

Will slowly shook his head with a teasing smile playing around the corners of his mouth.  "Name's Will.  Came to the game," Will told him as he slowly undid the buttons of his shirt.  "My buddy's boy is on the other team.  Number 21."

Marc's eyes slightly flared, whether from the stud's disrobing or the mention of the opposing jock was unclear.  "Mike.  Yeah, I sort of know him," he replied suggestively.  By now the shirt was gone and Will was peeling off the "wife beater" hugging his hunky torso.  There was no shortage of blue collar workers in this town and Marc had grown to appreciate a man's body sculpted by hard, manual labor rather than the gym types.  This guy had the whole package.  Muscular, but not overly so, with broad, thick shoulders, strong arms, great pecs lightly coated with dark hair which thinned to a treasure trail down his rippled belly, encircled his indented navel and disappeared into the top of his jeans.  Without pausing, Will unzipped and peeled jeans and boxer briefs over thick hairy thighs, kicked off his sneakers and fully disrobed. 

This guy was the total package.  Hot as fuck and better than any of the men waiting upstairs including, Marc hated to admit, his own father.  The cock on him, semi-hard and growing by the second, was a real beaut of what would probably top off at over nine inches with a meaty, suckable head and awesome thickness.  Will padded forward across the bare cement floor, grasped Marc with one strong workman's hand behind the back of his head and pulled the salivating teen to his crotch.  Marc opened wide and engulfed the perfectly shaped head.  Will tasted good, just like a man should, and Marc looked up at the handsome stud to show his appreciation.  Marc sucked on the luscious knob and tongue-teased the deep, wide slit until it rewarded him with flavorful pre-cum.  Marc savored the awesome flavor.  Reaching out, he took hold of Will's sac and rolled his balls in the palm of his sweaty hand.  Will's weren't danglers, they were a heavy package pulled up between his meaty, hairy thighs against the base of his super cock.  Marc squeezed until a steady flow of rich nectar pleased his taste buds and glided down to further lubricate his already wet throat.  Moaning his delight Marc swiftly swallowed the cock down to the ball, enjoying Will's masculine groan as he was thoroughly devoured.  He left the thick dick to pulse in his throat for a short while before he began sliding up and down its full length.

Will was in total bliss.  In fact, it surprised him to realize that his hard body was quaking and his legs had grown weak.  Apart from being a talented ball player this kid was an expert at cock sucking.  Although married since the age of eighteen the thrill had left their relationship long ago and Will had sought sexual release elsewhere.  Many was the time he'd stuck his dick through that hole at the sleazy book store, suspecting more often than not there was no female on the other side.  But when a guy had blue balls a mouth was a mouth.  If he didn't see the cocksucker, he didn't care.  After a quick suck, zip up and be gone.  All that changed a few weeks ago after getting the best head of his life and then waiting outside to ascertain the recipient of his monumental load.  Upon seeing the cute teen and recognizing him as a high school b-ball player Will became obsessed with having him again.  Other than the unknown quantity behind the glory hole wall Will had never considered being with another dude before.  He was strictly a pussy man.  But this teen, Marc, had changed all that.  Will just had to have that mouth on his pride and joy once again!

Marc wasn't disappointing.  He gave Will some superb head, fucking the cock in and out of his bottomless throat with real gusto.  Will was just moaning and groaning, sometimes sighing, unintentionally telling Marc how much he was enjoying the thrill.  Marc was willing to pleasure this guy for hours but in the back of his mind he knew there was a time constraint.  There was a bar full of expectant clientele upstairs and pimp daddy Buck would be cutting things short if each guy didn't get off quickly.  Heck, Marc was capable of getting a fella to shoot in record time.  If he wanted to.  From Will's reactions his release could be close.  But Marc had other plans.  He wanted to get fucked by this he-man before the night was over.

Scooting back on the mattress (he truly needed to talk to Buck about springing for a new one with the evening's takings) Marc lay down, lifted and spread his strapping legs and exposed his pert puckered opening.  "Come on and fuck me, mister," he said.  Hearing such an invitation coming from that deep voice which didn't belong to any seventeen year olds Will had ever known had his dick oozing even more heavily.  Never a man to turn down a challenge Will anxiously climbed aboard.  Marc's hands stroked up and down the muscular arms lodged to either side of him and he looked into Will's exceedingly handsome face.  "Fuck me hard!" he practically begged.

"Gotta grab the lube," Will said in his equally deep, resonating voice.  He recalled seeing a collection of lotions on a sideboard in the damp, dingy place.

"Don't need any," Marc responded.  Will smirked.  Of course the hot little slut didn't.  Probably took on the entire opposing team as a consolation prize.  While not crazy about taking sloppy seconds he wasn't about to turn down this particular offer.  The boy had him bewitched.  Looking Marc straight in his gorgeous emerald eyes Will poised his manly cock at the tender portal and heaved.  "Oh, fuck!" Will sighed with at least half his manhood inside Marc's flexing channel.  Damn, it felt so good!  Will had had himself a lot of pussy in the better part of his thirty eight years but never once tapped an asshole.  And certainly not boy ass.  But this shit was divine!

He thrust his hips once again sending the entire length of his dick spearing through Marc's guts.  Will's major piece throbbed in the teen's hungry pussy.  He felt it chewing on his buried head and clawing around the base of his buried cock.  Incredible sensations soared through his manhood and turned him insane with lust.  Jerking his loins back he steadily withdrew and then shoved himself back into the steamy honey pot.  Marc was getting off just looking up into Will's handsome, manly face as the gorgeous prick pumped in and out of him.  Beads of sweat had already broken out on the hunk's forehead and upper lip, making him look even sexier.  Marc's nostrils flared, taking in Will's manly scent.  His hands roamed all over, fanning out over the stud's strong chest, along his flanks and those powerful arms.  Marc's sparkling eyes spoke of undeniable passion. 

Finding himself unable to resist the boy's charms Will did the previously unthinkable, clamped his mouth to Marc's and began feverishly kissing him.  Their tongues hungrily entwined in the most sensual lip lock Will could recall.  Marc greedily sucked at Will's tongue and Will responded by driving it deep into the boy's mouth.  Their lips mashed together, Will's day's growth of beard delightfully scratching Marc's smooth flesh.  Spurred on, Will fucked the boy with even more gut-wrenching thrusts.  His entire body was now glistening with a sheen of sweat under the sole bulb dangling from the ceiling above them, giving him an even more erotic appearance.  Buck was almost jealous as he watched the heated action through the app on his phone.  It was obvious his son was really into this guy.

"Damn, you feel good!" Will gushed breathlessly.  Marc grabbed onto the stud's solid biceps and treated the rapidly pumping cock to every dirty trick he'd learned.  This guy was totally worthy of it.  His scalding guts clung to Will's fuck pole like a second skin as he pumped the pistoning beef from the inside.  He shifted his butt from side to side and flung himself upward to meet each one of Will's thrusts.  Skin slapped against skin, the wet sounds echoing off the solid cement block walls.  Will was gritting his even pearly teeth and putting all his weight into the fuck.  No pussy had ever felt quite as good.  He thought the glory hole blow job had been superb, but this athlete's ass was phenomenal.  Will needed to be fucking it all the time.  From the way the teen was grabbing at him, giving back every bit of what he got and looking at him through love-struck, sex-glazed eyes Will knew Marc was totally into him and mad for his big ole cock.  Good thing, because Will felt the same way.  He never thought he'd see the day but there was no denying the overwhelming lust be was currently experiencing.

Will was so into the fuck that he hardly noticed his ball sac had drawn up tight between his legs and he was running the final lap.  They were both breathing heavily; Marc's body was positively sizzling on the beat-up old mattress.  Tossing his head from side to side, chewing his bottom lip and moaning almost painfully he let out a small cry and blasted a youthfully strong load up against Will's heaving chest.  Will actually whimpered as he rode Marc through his release.  He could feel every surge through his own rocketing dick.  Marc's hands clawed at him, squeezing his guns, slapping his chest and tearing at his hair.  Will's libido was stoked even stronger knowing his cocksmanship was bringing the boy off in such a delirious orgasm.  He attempted to ignore all the usual warning signs as he continued to drive his cock in and out of the maddeningly convulsing pussy.  He tensed, he shivered and ultimately reached the limit of his endurance.  With a raspy groan Will sunk his cock deep in the wonder pussy and blasted off.  His big cock swelled and shot hearty man juice into the warm, clutching cavern.  Marc worked him through his release, milking every last spurt from the exploding weapon.  To Will it felt like every nerve ending on his cock was stripped and exposed, sending waves of pleasure through his heaving body. He bucked, he sighed, he relished every second of an overly satisfying cum. 

They were both winded afterward.  Will had an awestruck look on his flushed features as he stared down into Marc's bedroom eyes.  He kissed the boy again, tenderly at first and then more insistently.  Marc ran his hands through Will's soaked hair and eagerly returned the display of passion.  His ass continued a squeeze-and-release on that fabulous dick still planted inside him.  This guy was a keeper, for sure.

When Will broke the lip lock his warm breath washed over Marc as he said, "This isn't over.  Not by a long shot." 

Footsteps on the stairs alerted them to the next client.  Will would like to have tossed the boy over his shoulder, taken him out of this place and to a nearby hotel where they could fuck all night but he knew he'd never get past that rambunctious crowd upstairs.  He reluctantly gave up his place as an overweight, older gentleman came into view from around the partition.  Gerald Norton, Mayor of the town, nodded at him, although he felt a bit intimidated in the presence of such a handsome, well-built stud.  As Will dressed the Mayor dropped trou and climbed up on Marc.  It disgusted Will to see the out-of-shape oldster defiling such perfection.  The kid deserved better; the kid deserved him.  As he neared the corner and the staircase he looked back and, over the humping chubster's shoulder, locked eyes with Marc one last time.

The celebration was still in full swing upstairs.  But Will had what he'd come for.  He fought his way through the throng and stepped out into the cool night air.  He hadn't gone far before a voice called out to him.  Turning, he saw the boy's father step off the stoop and amble over to him. 

Buck extended a hand and Will took it.  The man's grip was strong, but so was Will's.  Buck nodded toward the side street.  "Third house on the right.  That's ours.  Stop over any time.  Marc seems to like you."  The big guy winked, squeezed Will's right bicep and turned back to the bar.

Will stood there for a moment letting it all sink in.  The father had just given his blessing.  He was invited to come back and take his pleasure with the hot teen.  With his cock already on the rise and a smirk on his face Will casually strode down the sidewalk to his car.

The "party" went on until nearly two a.m.  After Mayor Norton, Fire Chief Richter and two of his squad members had a rousing four-way with Marc, who adequately put out their fires.  Officers Trent and Dobson, two of the town's finest, were up next.  Thomas Davidson, a developer who was currently erecting a super market and accompanying strip mall on an old abandoned air strip, got a one-on-one with the champion.  Dickie and Don, the two local muscle Guineas, followed.  By the time it was all over Marc had taken over twenty loads up his ass and an equal amount down his throat.  Buck saw off the last of them, the father of one member of the opposing team, before locking up for the night. 

Securing the night's deposits in the safe he casually wiped down the bar, figuring he would come in early tomorrow and do the rest of clean up.  With everything as well as it could be he went to the store room and traversed down the stairs.  Marc lay there with his head resting back on one arm and his legs up as if awaiting the next.  Buck chuckled to himself and shook his head.  The boy just couldn't get enough.  He went over to stand beside his son.

"Ready to go home?" he asked. 

"Everybody gone?" Marc inquired.

Buck snickered and reached out to touch the boy's dripping, puffy ass lips.  "You disappointed?"  He ran his thumb around the pucker and casually slipped a thick finger inside.

"Could have gone a few more rounds," Marc admitted mischievously.  "I'm the champ, didn't you hear?"

Buck smiled knowingly and stretched out a hand to the boy, assisting him up from the mattress.  "So I heard.  Now, c'mon, let's get you home and to bed."  He effortlessly tossed Marc over one strong shoulder and carried him bare-assed up the stairs.  In the bar proper he grabbed his keys and made for the door. 

"Hey, Buck, I, um, don't have any clothes on, you know," Marc reminded him.

Buck grinned again.  "I know.  It's after two in the morning.  Ain't nobody on the streets.  And if they are, they're gonna get a show."  He carried his son out the door, up the street, into their home and deposited him in his bed.  Stripping himself as nude as his son he crawled in bed next to him and held him spoon-style in his arms as they both drifted off to sleep. 

The boy had had enough for the night.  In the morning he'd fuck him.