Matt dove onto the bed closest to the door. 'This one's mine, buddy-boy!' he yelped.

I stacked my bag of hockey equipment on top of his and said, 'Whatever.' Matt and I had roomed together for the entire tournament, but this would be the last time; we'd snagged third place in the hockey tourney in the afternoon and were flying back to the States the following morning - and from there we'd disperse to our various college teams in the northern US. Tonight, therefore, was my last chance to put the moves on the fast-skating, hard-checking puck hunk - to deke around his macho defenses and slide the rubber into his reverse fivehole, bulge his twine, so to speak.

He stretched out, folded his arms behind his head, and looked at me. 'So, dude, what shall we do tonight?' He glanced at his watch. 'It's only ... holy shit, it's only four o'clock! We got tons of time to party before curfew.'

I dragged a chair in front of the TV, grabbed the shoebox-sized remote off the top of the set, and plunked my ass down in front of the thirteen-inch screen. 'You still haven't adjusted your timepiece to Swedish time, like I told you to do the first day we got here, brainiac. It's six hours later than the States - ten o'clock.'

He hopped off his bed, belly-flopped onto mine. 'You serious? I knew I kept you around for a reason,' he laughed, then sat up and slapped me on the shoulder. 'Okay, dude, commence pointing and clicking. We'll watch some TV before lights-out.'

I looked at him for a moment, looked at his big hand where it lingered all warm and hard on my shoulder, warming and hardening my own appendages. Matt is my age - eighteen - but that's where the physical similarities end. I'm tall and lean and dark-haired, with pale skin and blue eyes - a finesse-type player. Matt, on the other hand, is short and thick and strong, with golden-brown skin, blonde hair, and hazel eyes - a banger and a grinder, but a talented stickhandler nonetheless. And after countless shower rooms, dressing rooms, training rooms, and hotel rooms during the course of the two-week hockey event held all over Sweden, I felt like I knew every nook and cranny of the hunky guy, and could anticipate every move he was going to make - both on and off the ice.

'You just want to watch TV?' I asked, staring at him hopefully, trying to transmit a lusty message from my brain to his.

He glanced at my beaming eyes and said, ''Course, dude. What else?' The differing European electrical system had obviously screwed up my All-American vibe. He snatched the remote out of my hand and powered on the TV.

'Okay,' I shrugged. 'Guess I might as well get comfortable, then.' I stripped off my shirt and shoes, leaving only a loose pair of knee-length shorts between him and my wicked, curved blade. 'It's hot in here, huh?'

'Mmmm,' he mumbled, impatiently waiting for a picture to materialize. When it finally did, he started briskly flipping channels, showing off the lightning-quick reflexes that had netted him five goals and three fighting majors during the tournament.

'Doesn't look like there's much on,' I remarked, edging my chair closer to where he sat on the edge of the bed.

'Yeah, it is hot in here, dude,' he replied belatedly, and shucked off his duds till he was wearing nothing more than the tight, white briefs that he slept in.

I ogled his smooth, buff body. His thighs were thick and muscular, like mine, from endless hours of skating, and his pipes were bulging with muscle, as well. His abs were chiseled, his hairless pecs two rounded mounds that were bigger than some girl's tits, and his nipples were large and brown and succulent-looking. My open mouth almost watered my chin as I eye-fucked the sculpted stud.

'This piece of crap only gets four channels,' he complained. 'What say we check out some of the in-house adult offerings, eh dude?'

I reeled my eyeballs back in from the pleasant lump in his Jockeys and said, 'Sure, whatever.'

He spent the next five minutes trying to figure out how to access the triple X channels, and then, when he finally did, he tuned into one previewing a no-holds-barred man-on-man movie. Yes! I thought, grateful that the Swedish people were so open-minded. Two studs, one black, one white, were frantically frenching each other like their tongues were on fire. And when the camera panned back from their pretty faces, we could see that they were standing in the middle of a boxing ring, and the gloves, like all of their clothing, were off. They were both well-built dudes, and they both had a hold of each other's long, thick, gorgeous cocks.

'Holy shit!' Matt yelled, laughing his head off. 'Anything goes around these parts, huh?'

'Viking power ...' I murmured, my eyes glued to the red-hot tube. The black guy kissed and licked the white guy's neck, then dropped to his knees on the canvas and began to work-over his buddy's rock-hard cock with his loving hands. He stroked dick and bounced balls while the white man jumped and groaned, muttered something Scandinavian yet universal.

'You don't wanna watch this, do you?' someone asked from far away.

'Huh? I, um ...' The hard-bodied ebony god jabbed out his ultra-pink tongue and sucker-punched the bloated head of the ivory god's cock.

'Hey, dude, don't tell me you're into this stuff?' a vaguely familiar voice said.

The kneeling black beauty caught his muscular friend's swollen dickhead in his hungry mouth and started sucking, popping the handsome, purple cock-top in and out of his crimson mouth, lightly clipping it with his dazzling white teeth. He stroked the gasping guy's giant rod, swirling his dark hand up and down the huge, pink hard-on, while he sucked and bit and tongue-slapped the clean-cut hood.

My languid thoughts slowly drifted back into focus. 'What? No ... I-I've never even seen junk like this before,' I stammered, lying big time. My hard-drive at college was littered with more gay porn clips than the floor of Jeff Stryker's barber's shop. 'I'm, um, just ... you know, curious.'

'Well, I am into this stuff,' Matt stated frankly.

I watched the hunk on his knees suck the other hunk's nine-inch ring-post into his mouth, and then bob his shaved head up and down on it, get a good cock-sucking rhythm going, his cheeks billowing in and out like after a hard workout, his thick lips gliding easily back and forth on the glistening cock. And then I finally clued into what Matt had said, and jerked my head around to stare into his warm, sparkling eyes. 'You're into ...' I began excitedly, then let my jaw hang open and my words fade away as I watched him stand up, pull down his briefs, and grab his awesome cock in his fist and start pumping.

'Yeah, I like dudes,' he explained nonchalantly, expertly tugging his hardened meat. 'Always have. Don't you?' He sat back down on the bed, and while he polished his long, wooden stick with one hand, he reached out and covered my thick shaft with his other hand. 'Feels to me like you do,' he said, grinning.

He leaned in and kissed me on the trembling, tingling lips. 'I've noticed how you've been watching me,' he breathed into my mouth, before replacing his words with his tongue - parting my puffy lips with his slippery, pink spear and banging it up against my tongue. He rubbed my throbbing schlong while he erotically explored the damp interior of my agape mouth with his searching sex tool.

I could hardly believe what was happening! My own game plan was out the window now - he had connected first with a beautiful pass - but that didn't hardly matter. I grabbed his head and mashed my lips against his, frenched the hockey-crazed stud ferociously. Our joyful tongues danced together, slapped briskly against one another like two opposing stick blades at face-off. We frenched and frenched and frenched, painted each other's red, full-bodied lips with hot saliva, and then Matt slid his hand into my shorts and made skin-to-skin contact with my raging hard-on. His hot touch sent sexual shockwaves rippling through my body, my head spinning off into orbit. I was actually swapping spit and swiping tongue with my fellow puckhead while he fondled my dick! It was sporting heaven!

He pulled back, tugged his hand out of my shorts, and said, 'Stand up.'

I stood, and he gripped the sides of my shorts and pulled them down to my ankles. My seven-inch pecker pronged out and stood at rigid attention like the national anthem was being played.

'Now sit down and take it like a man,' he said.

I sat, and he got on his knees in between my legs and grabbed my straining prick and started stroking. 'Fuck, yeah,' I groaned, as he pumped my engorged dong with his big, sure hand. I held onto the bed and stared fiercely at him, at his handiwork, at the TV image of one guy giving another guy a truly blistering bj.

He followed my eyes over to the television and said, 'Time to get real, baby,' then lowered his head until his pouty lips kissed the tip of my pulsating cock.

'Suck me, Matt,' I moaned. 'Suck me.'

'You don't have to tell me twice, dude,' he said, then stuck out his tongue and licked my super-sensitive hood.

My body and brain were jolted by his hot, wet tongue-touch, but he hung onto my cock and swirled his slimy tongue under and over and around my puffed-up dickhead. 'That's the way,' I grunted, and wrenched a hand off the damp, scrunched-up bedcover and brought it up to my nipples. I pinched and plucked my inflamed, pink nips, rolled them between my shaking fingers, heightening the erotic sensation of Matt's tongue-lashing.

He basted my ballooned-out mushroom cap with his sizzling juices, then popped my cockhead in his mouth and started sucking. I moaned my encouragement, and gazed through lust-misted eyes at his bobbing blonde head, at the TV screen where the black guy was deep-throating his companion's monster cock like there was no tomorrow. I anxiously ran my fingers through Matt's soft, yellow locks, stroked his beautiful bouncing head as he pulled on my cock-top. Then he gripped my quivering thighs and crammed as much cock into his gaping maw as he could. He sucked and sucked and sucked, his humid breath steaming out of his flared nostrils as he wet-vacced my wood.

The feeling was un-fucking-believable! I'd had a few guys, and even a couple of girls (before I'd gotten well and truly bent), give me a hummer, but nothing like what Matt was dishing out. He knew just how to handle a long, hard stick, hockey and otherwise, with practice obviously making perfect. He gulped down almost my entire petrified pecker, sealed it in his superheated mouth, and sucked on it with a relentless intensity.

'Yeah, baby, yeah!' I shouted, frantically grasping fistfuls of his golden hair and hanging on while he mouth-pumped my dong like an oil derrick - up and down, up and down, over and over and over again. I looked up from Matt's amazing mouth-to-cock resuckitation only when the swallowed-up guy on TV yelled the Swedish equivalent of 'I'm cumming!' and jerked his sopping axe out of his lover's craven mouth, stroked it frenziedly, and then blasted thick, creamy semen into his buddy's gaping mouth.

Matt pulled and pulled on my raging cock with his sensual, moist mouth and lips, slurped at the underside of my dick with his flattened-out tongue. His head plunged even further down, until his nose plowed into my curly, black fur and his stretched-out mouth and throat were absolutely jam-packed with cock. And when his tongue slithered out of his crammed mouth to lap at my hairy balls, the awesome sensations became way too much for me and the cum in my balls boiled out-of-control. 'I'm gonna blow my load, Matt!' I bellowed in warning.

He looked up into my glazed eyes, disgorged a third of my drenched meat, and then torqued up the sucking pressure another notch, tugging on my inflamed tool faster and faster, until, just before blast-off, he wrenched my dripping dong out of his craw and rapidly took up with his hand where his spectacular mouth had left off.

'Fuck almighty!' I shrieked wildly. Cum rocketed out of my hand-jacked cock and flew all over the place. I came and came and came, blowing wad after wad of white-hot jizz into the air, my body spasming uncontrollably, as Matt pumped and pumped me, drained me of cum.

When the last of the goo had flown my cock, Matt kissed my twitching, red dick-tip and licked up a few drops of sticky overflow. Then he looked at me and said, 'Now it's my shift, dude.'

I fell back onto the bed, my balls emptied perhaps for all time, my body and mind wasted. 'Anything you want, man,' I gasped. 'Anything.'

He popped my sagging, sopping dong back into his mouth, milked it a moment longer, then slapped my thigh and said, 'Assume the formation, big guy.'

'Huh? I don't-'

'C'mon, you know the drill! Time to take a shot at that sexy ass of yours. I bet it's got more uses than just warming a bench,' he joked.

I rolled over with a groan and lethargically crawled onto my hands and knees, pushed my round, taut butt into the air. The TV had gone blank when the preview ended, but it sure as hell had accomplished its sexual sales job. I watched Matt jog over to his wallet on the counter, his big, heavy cock jouncing happily. He plucked out a condom, tore it open, and eagerly rolled it down his enormous dick.

'Play safe,' he quipped, then climbed onto the bed, behind my behind. He felt up my butt cheeks, squeezing and kneading them, then lightly slapping the cheeky pair of them.

'Fuck me up the ass,' I grunted, his hot, hard, probing fingers feeling great on my bum.

'Sounds like a plan,' he said, before spreading my pillows apart so that he could blow on my asshole - fan the fire already burning there.

My cock started to tingle, and even swelled back to semi-attention when Matt plugged his tongue into my ass. 'Yeah,' I groaned, as he swirled his pink blade of bliss around in my butt, his fingers caressing and fondling my ass, my re-hardened cock. He tongued and tongued my flaming glory hole, then flattened his tongue and licked me clear from the base of my furry balls to the top of tremulous ass.

He lapped long and hard at my balls and backdoor, giving me the 'round the world of my life, before eventually saying, 'I think you're just about wet enough for some real bodychecking.' He spat in his hand and rubbed his sheathed cock, and I reached back and spread my ass cheeks, urging him to fill the gap in my defense.

'Time to go bottom shelf,' he commented, then grabbed his cock and pressed his huge mushroomed hood up against my teeny, tiny opening.

'Shoot it in!' I yelled, desperate for his cock to be sliding around in my ass.

He pushed forward, penetrated my pucker, and then eased his engorged erection into my quivering bum. I pushed back at him, and his massive cock sank all the way into my gripping asshole. We both had the man-advantage now, only I was the one being penal-ized - and it felt fantastic! He churned his hips back and forth, slowly at first, his big dick filling my stretched-wide love tunnel. Then he moved faster and faster, till he was banging my sensitized butt like a goaltender bangs his stick on the ice to signal the end of a penalty.

'Pummel my ass!' I hollered.

He quit dogging it then and really picked up the pace, frantically pounded my petoot, jolting my body with his reckless ass-battering. 'Damn, you're tight, baby,' he hissed through gritted teeth, gripping my waist and hammering away at me, sweat dappling his ripped upper body, the muscles on his thick arms standing out in stark, rigid relief. He split me in two with his savage schlonging, his heavy balls smacking my rippling cheeks. He plundered my anus again and again, relentlessly, as I desperately tried and failed to pull my own goalie.

'I'm gonna cum, baby!' he shouted all-too-soon, throwing back his head and revving up his hips even more. He ass-slammed me frenziedly, blowing my mind with his battering-ram cock, and then he grunted in ecstasy and his heaving body jerked like a player caught with his head down. He clung desperately to my waist as he was buffeted by blistering orgasm, as white-hot cum cannonaded out of his prick and into the condom shoved cock-first up my ass.

He came over and over, groaning and moaning with joy as he pumped my jiggling bum with his spurting cock, until finally he collapsed, exhausted, on top of me. He gently tongued my neck, lapped up my dewy perspiration and quipped, 'He shoots, he scores.'

'We better keep this between ourselves, Matt,' I said, turning serious. I didn't want the rest of the rugged team knowing that me and my linemate were rump-bumpers.

But Matt surprised me for a second time that night by saying, 'Why just keep it between ourselves, dude? The more the merrier. I've already scored with half the starting line-up; you were one of the few I hadn't completed a pass to yet.' He smiled, his cock still buried to the balls inside my bottom. 'I was saving the best for last, dude.'

He shoots, he scores, indeed.


Landon Dixon

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