The Alien Culture Project

Chance woke up the next morning feeling wonderfully refreshed, more invigorated than he could remember feeling in a long time.  He stretched out the length of his hard-muscled body in bed, savoring the feel of his thick, meaty cock rubbing against the cotton sheet.  What a milestone night last night was.Sex, a glorious bout of sex.  Finally.  And what mind-blowingly satisfying sex it was.  His first time with a guy. He'd always been curious as hell what sex with another dude would be like; he had no idea it would be the sex of his dreams -- all cock and ass and muscle and cum; both partners sharing the same raw hunger; everything he'd always hoped for in sex.

Dang, son, he laughed to himself, I think you might be on to somethin' here!

A vibrant, electric future suddenly seemed to stretch out in front of Chance: a wild montage of manly beauty; cocks of every size, hard and soft, hairy and smooth, cut and uncut, thin and fat; firm muscles to stroke and lick and worship; hungry mouths and dancing tongues; lips brushing against beard-stubbled cheeks; smooth, firm, muscular asses, with their tight, tempting puckers; and big, full, dangling ball-sacs, ripe for pleasuring with fingers and tongue - the whole dazzling array covered in a luscious glaze of thick cream.

Chance was amped to face the day now. He rose out of bed savoring every flex and ripple of his taut muscles. He walked -- nude, long dick swinging listlessly in the stillness of 6AM -- out of his small bedroom into the common room he and his roommate shared, to make a cup of tea. He brought one of Reed's stroke books with him to leaf through as he waited for the water to boil. His roommate was still asleep.Life doubtless went on yesterday the same as usual for ol' Tommy, Chance figured, then had to laugh out loud in a kind of giddy, stunned amazement at how, for himself, yesterday had changed things utterly.

Damn, he liked guys' dicks! Always had, he could finally admit to himself, flipping through the magazine and rubbing his own as he waited for his tea to steep.He stopped to dwell on the photo of a gorgeous young stud whose long, smooth, uncut cock was jutting up in full erection. So beautiful, so sexy: thick, sleek, alive with a kind of power; triggering his mouth to water in dreamy anticipation. Fuck, he loved to suck cock, it felt amazing in his mouth -- thick, luscious, that firm, meaty flesh hardening and lengthening as his worked his excited lips over it. Guys' mouths, he realized, were made for guys' dicks. To rub his lips over a dude's dick, to caress the head and shaft with his tongue, getting it slick, wet, hard, and ready to shoot -- it was wonderfully liberating to be able to luxuriate in the desire for them so frankly now.

He realized now that for years, since high school, probably, or even before, every time he'd seen a hot guy, in person or in a photo, he'd wondered about the guy's dick. And when he had a chance, in showers or locker rooms, to see one, he sure took it. He could probably sketch from memory, it dawned on him, the cock of every boy he showered with in high school. Oh well, he grinned happily, thinking of Reed's comment from last night: 'Guilty as charged'! Except he didn't feel guilty at all; instead, he felt like he was primed to start having exciting sex for the first time in his life. And damn! he laughed, he wanted as much of it as possible, as often as possible, as soon as possible! He was way overdue.

He laid aside the magazine and stared out the window while he sipped his tea, looking out on a fresh, vibrant world: a bright sunrise was bringing the world outside his dorm room to life; the grass seemed dazzlingly green; the trees looked tall and majestic; the leaves were turning - and hey, so was he; actually, he was pretty sure he'd turned. Totally.

It's funny, he thought, as he rubbed his dick idly, he had had such awful luck in sex until things bloomed so wildly and abruptly and completely with Reed last night. He tried sorting it all out in his mind. Despite how badly he'd craved the hard, physical passion of sex, it had always been an empty scene at best for him -- a fevered space of masturbation and longing, punctuated by a few half-assed attempts with women, and endless fascination with male musculature. Now sex suddenly seemed like a rich, exotic land full of drama and promise, a place where fulfillment would be beyond what he could ever have hoped for. Hope has been transformed now into discovery.

It was like his father always told him when Chance'd keep trying - and failing - to do something one way, but then hit pay dirt by trying a different way: Son, you were just fishing in the wrong stream, is all.

After he finished his tea, he stretched then went for a half-hour run to get warmed up before wrestling practice. Even on his run, he felt better, stronger. It's like I'm more centered, like I fit a little snugger inside myself, he thought. I'm more alive in the world.

Back at the dorm he took a quick shower and got dressed. He decided on no jock today; he wanted his cock to hang full, firm, and loose, especially at wrestling practice. He wanted to saunter around the locker room like a bull stud, potent with sperm - that's how amped he felt. Today in the gym was a day to fully savor the feel of his thick, virile cock, covered only by a thin singlet, as it snaked down obscenely along his thigh or brushed another guy's body during practice or even pressed up hard against it -- letting the other dude feel his throbbing interest. So he just threw on some jeans, another too-small T, and his Carhartt jacket. It was 7:30, right on time to head over to meet Reed.

Reed was dressed and ready. They kissed, hugged, and smiled at each other.Reed gazed at that strip of hard abs, visible between the bottom of Chance's T and the top of his jeans. But no jock this time, just hard flesh all the way into the low-rising waistband of his jeans. His mouth watered. No time for even a quick fondle, though, as Chance wanted to hustle them off to the gym.

The wrestlers lifted and practiced in a small, though ample, well-equipped space on the second floor of the school's athletic complex. The wrestling program was highly-ranked nationally, its coach had won two national championships, so it rated a good space in the athletic program pecking order. The wrestlers had their own locker room and shower space, plus a big enough practice room to be divided in half - weights/machines and mats - so the wrestling program was its own little world, independent of either mainstream college students or any of the other teams' athletes. In the locker room, Reed watched excitedly as Chance stowed his jacket, took off his work boots and socks, then stripped off first shirt and then jeans, flexing his ripped body when he finally stood naked in front of his buddy.

"Free-ballin' today, huh? That's sexy as hell."

Chance smiled, then bent over to kiss Reed, who lovingly stroked that luscious dick when it got close to him.

"I'm totally into flaunting what I got now, thanks to you. Hey, ain't you gonna change?"

"In a second. I just wanted to enjoy the show. Fuck, would I love to suck you off right here."

Chance laughed and pulled on one of the singlets he had stored in his locker. Reed had to give out with a deep, rich 'damn' when he saw how outrageously defined the young stud's long, thick cock was under the thin material.

"Fuck, man, you might as well be wrestling nude, like the Greeks."

"I'm celebrating my body today, dude."

"It's gonna be quite a fuckin' celebration, then, let me tell you. God-damned national holiday, the way you're built."

Reed peeled his own clothes off, stacked them on the bench by Chance's locker, and started getting into his gym shorts and T. Soon they were joined by a couple other young wrestlers, who nodded to Chance, then proceeded to change for practice. Reed got just a quick glimpse of the young men nude, both of whom were built (but neither as jacked as Chance), before Chance led Reed through the locker rooms and out into the practice room.

It was nicely lit, Reed noticed, and well-equipped, but the heat in the room was intense.

"Jesus, man, it's like a furnace in here."

"I know. It bugged me at first, but now I'm into it. Gets your muscles loose in a hurry. I think Coach always wants us to cut weight or something. You sure as hell get an amazing workout every time, sweatin' up a storm."

The team drifted in and Reed went to work taking photos and making notes in his log. He became almost a fly on the wall, as far as Chance was concerned, who was immediately into his routine. After a quick stretch (he was already primed after his morning run), he hit the weights. His newly stoked sexual excitement did indeed result in a new swagger, one he really felt as he strode around the weight room that morning, and most of the boys noticed it, too (either the swagger or the huge impression his dick made unencased by a jock for the first time at practice).

Chance now very consciously thought of the boys on his team frankly, sexually. He didn't just study their physiques, he perused them critically as guys he might like to fool around with. That new frankness showed in his patter that morning. Lots of "Lookin' good today, stud!" and "Damn, I gotta feel that bicep, dude; how much you curlin' anyway?" and "Those abs are lookin' way hot." Nothing very blatant, just a marked, subtle difference, a new level of physical camaraderie.

Such intimate awareness of each other's bodies was easily accomplished, given the skimpy amount of clothes the wrestlers wore for lifting. Reed quickly noticed, snapping pictures here and there whenever he caught a good pose, that almost all the boys who wore them wore their singlets pulled down around their waists as they lifted. Some simply wore a pair of gym shorts, most with no top or just a sleeveless one. Practically speaking, it allowed them to see each muscle in the mirror as they worked it, gauging the effectiveness of their workout. But, Reed smiled knowingly, it also meant they could showoff and view each other's bodies more easily that way, too, judging by how often their gazes lingered on a team mate's sweaty torso. The coach, too, he noticed, wasn't shy at all about staring at his built young team. Now there's a job I should have considered, Reed sighed; if only I'd known. . .

Coach, Reed saw, spent a lot of time with Chance as he did his upper body routine. The coach wore a pair of sweatpants that fit just right over a firm-muscled ass. On top he wore a sleeveless T, cut low to show off the lightly-furred chest of a very in-shape thirty-something. He watched appreciatively as Chance did his raises, then spotted him at the bench press. At one point, in order to show Chance how the muscle was supposed to flex, he took off his T, and then "casually" forgot to put it back on. Reed took several excited snaps of this beautiful youngish bear going shirtless. Another time, to show Chance how to change his grip on a biceps curl, in order to get a better pump, Coach nuzzled right up behind Chance, asked him to hold a contraction, then traced his fingers back and forth along the muscle as he explained the theory behind this new grip. His other hand just happened to rest very informally on Chance's lower hip. Reed got a few more snaps.He's either just a really hands-on trainer around or this guy's copping feels of his young squad whenever possible. But fuck, the two of them looked seriously hot together. And Reed didn't think he was seeing things as Chance seemed to press his ass further into Coach's dick. Quite an apt pupil I tutored last night, he thinks wistfully. At this rate he'll be giving me lessons in a few days.

After the weights session, the coach made an announcement.

"All right, listen up. For today's scrimmage, I want you each to wrestle someone out of your weight class. Big guys, see if you can handle the speed of some of the lighter guys. Little guys, your resistance is about to get an extreme challenge. We'll do the usual, 2 minutes, followed by 1, followed by 1."

Brock Sears, one of the seniors on the team, wasted no time zeroing right in on Chance before any other wrestler could. He had been turned-on by Chance's cut perfection all term, and today, seeing no jock under Chance's singlet, was too much. He was definitely gonna be feeling up that cock as much as he could legitimately get away with.

Brock sidled up next to Chance and smiled cockily.

"How about it, stud? Think you can take me?"

Chance looked him up and down, his gaze exceeding the bounds of propriety, a lingering look lost not at all on Brock, whose pulse began to trip even faster. Then Chance tried to sound as sexy as possible as he drawled his reply.

"I'd sure as fuck like to try, dude."

Brock gave a very knowing grin and fist-bumped his team-mate.

"First, I gotta go change into my singlet. That'll give you a coupla minutes to chicken out."

"Sure, bro, you gotta change your singlet. And if you don't come back, don't worry, I'll know you ain't punked out."

As Brock dashed back to the locker room, Reed came up behind Chance.

"Dude, that guy is totally hot for you."

"Think so?"

"Dude, he never took his eyes of your cock! Shit, though, I guess I could say that for about half the guys in here."

"Well, you wanna hook a prize catch, you need a big wiggly worm to attract 'em, dude. That's the idea."

Reed burst out laughing. Chance's corn-pone humor was hilarious.

"Worm? Dude, you've got an anaconda at the end of your line."

"That's so I can hook the big ones, bro!"

Chance laughed as he gave Reed's dick a quick feel.

Neither Reed nor Chance were surprised to see Brock walk back in the practice room a few minutes later in his singlet but, like Chance, noticeably forgoing his jock.

Reed spoke to Chance under his breath.

"Whoa, lookee-thar, pardner -- another big worm. These are gonna be some sweet pics of you two going for each other's bait."

"You don't mind, man? For real? If I flirt with Brock?"

"Hell, no! Go nuts! You are way overdue for as much hot sex as you can get."

Chance had always thought Brock had the best body (next to his own) on the team. He thought of Brock as the senior stud of the squad. Brock wore his hair shorter on top than Chance and kept it shaved skin-close on the side; that jarhead cut, along with the permanent three-day beard stubble that always covered his lean jaw, gave him a macho look Chance's gaze loved to linger on. His body, hard and wiry, more than lived up to that look's rugged promise.

Chance wrestled at 163, Brock at 145. Chance worked out hard to maintain the 5% body fat rule (you couldn't have less, and Chance had not a drop more), but Brock, he felt, couldn't possibly have met the requirement. He looked like he had -2% body fat or something. Most good-lookin' guys had a muscular physique you could describe as 'cut.' On Chance's body, far above average, there wasn't one muscle whose definition wasn't easily traceable; he went beyond cut to 'ripped'. But Brock, though not as bulky, could only be called 'shredded'. Chance could see the actual striations of the muscles in his abs and arms, something he found sexy as hell. In the shower, he'd noticed Brock had just a few sparse light-brown hairs between his pecs, and a sexy little line that went from right below his belly button down to a wispy puff of dirty-blonde hair that sat atop about seven and one-half inches of a beautiful piece of man-meat. It was a dusky pink, and curved ever so slightly. Chance had always been attracted to it; now, as he studied what was outlined by Brock's singlet, he thought it looked irresistible. Some guys had tight scrotums, but Brock was like Chance and Reed: he had a nice, loose ball-sac that Chance loved to watch jiggle.

They got in their set positions, Brock on top, managing to casually brush Chance's ass a few times as he got set. When Coach signaled, they jolted into action. At the start, each boy was trying to show the other who was the alpha stud. Chance easily evaded Brock's first hold, and managed to grip Brock tight around the waist and slam the boy to the mat. But Brock quickly wriggled free before Chance could pin him.

Chance gasped.

"You're even faster than you look, man!"

Brock grinned.

"You ain't seen how fast yet!"

No more fucking around, Brock thought, so he moved in and cupped a hard hand right on Chance's ass-crack as he tried to push the boy to the floor.He made sure the tops of his fingers brushed Chance's balls and dickhead in a way that couldn't be misinterpreted.

Chance smirked, then grunted.

"Like what you feel?"

Then he lunged at Brock, cupping one of the boy's pecs and tweaking his nipple.

"Guess so, 'cause yer tit's sure nice and hard."

Brock strained to grab more of Chance's hardening cock.

"That ain't the only thing gettin' hard around here, stud!"

Both boys were delighted at how quickly this had turned to the kind of action they each wanted.

Chance quickly reversed out of the hold Brock had him in, pushed the boy on his back, and was on him in a minute, making sure their straining cocks were mashing against each other, bring an immediate low moan of pleasure from Brock. It was a hold neither boy wanted to break.

"Fuck, that feels awesome!"

Chance breathed low and hoarse.

"I was thinkin' the same thing, dude! Your dick's so fucking hard and thick. Love it, bro!"

Coach, meanwhile, was glued to this match. Who wouldn't be? These two, the hottest studs on his team, were sort of half-wrestling, half-fucking. Damn, was it getting him hard, Coach thought, as he rubbed his own cock through his sweatpants, trying to be inconspicuous but too jazzed up to really control himself. He knew he was looking too long -- and fuck, that kid with the camera was pointing right at him; damn, I bet he got a pic while I was stroking myself! Cool it, Wyatt, he said to himself, you don't want to lose this job. So he forced himself to look at some of the other matches for a few seconds before swiveling his head right back to the main event.

As he and Chance struggled against each other, Brock whispered low and raspy.

"Damn, you are one hot stud. Your cock is fucking huge, dude! You want to continue this in the showers after practice?"

"Love to, dude."

Coach whistled to start the second period and with that Chance got serious.He flipped Brock over on his back easily, the older boy's mind not in the here and now but rather divided between the memory of their mutual dick-rubbing and the anticipation of the shower to come. Then Chance quickly reached behind to grab the senior by the ass-crack, forcing his shoulders to the mat while his middle finger teased Brock's hole through the thin singlet, causing the boy to whoop excitedly.

"FUCK YEAH, dude! First time in my life I don't mind being pinned. Keep workin' my hole, dude. But make it look like we're wrestling, so Coach won't know. Shit, do I wanna feel that donkey-dick of yours deep in my ass when we get all soaped up later!"

Chance's cock was pure steel now, jutting up at the thought of a lathery fuck with Brock in the showers. He kept up the ass-play while he workedBrock's pecs.

When they broke again, they were ogling each other's sweating, panting, perfectly chiseled bodies with pure lust. As the whistle for the last period sounded, both boys were of one mind: to use this minute for foreplay. They immediately sprawled out on the mat, Brock face down, with Chance on top, his hard cock dry-humping Brock's ass. They kept up their fevered writhing the entire period.

Coach, by this time, was hard and leaking, thanking the gods he had worn his jock today. He blew his whistle to end the day's practice, dreaming of a three-way with Chance Taylor and Brock Sears.

As the other wrestlers filed out into the locker room, Chance and Brock just hung out on the mat, grinning at each other in eager anticipation. Chance quietly posed the question nagging him.

"Now there's just one thing I don't understand, bro: how the hell can we fool around in the shower?"

Brock winked slyly.

"Just chill here with me, dude -- stretch or something -- until everyone's out of the gym. Then we can spend about ten minutes worshipping each other's hot bodies. By the time we hit the shower room, everyone will be gone. Trust me, I've done this before. Many times."

Chance just whistled, then a look of bemused wonderment came over his face.

"Damn! I can't believe there's regular sex going on after wrestling practice."

Brock grinned that cocky, sexy grin again.

"Shit, dude, don't exercise and rasslin' around with horny, good-lookin' guys get YOU all hot and bothered?"

"It sure as fuck does."

"Then why be surprised?"

Chance's turn to grin now.

"Why, indeed? Come on, let's towel off. Then I want to see you stretch those big honkin' muscles o' yours."

Chance and Brock got up to go grab a towel from the equipment manager.As they walked back to the mat, Brock followed Chance's lead and folded his singlet down, so both boys could show each other their beautifully-worked upper bodies. Chance folded his down right to the start of his pubic hair.He looked up to see Brock's gaze riveted there and grinned to himself as he saw the material around Brock's groin tent noticeably.

Brock let his hands play over Chance's body, sensuously stroking that hard, cut muscle. His voice was dry and husky as he purred his lust.

"Damn, you're so fucking sexy, dude."

Chance sat back down, stretched his legs apart and started his cool down routine.Brock's eyes were like a laser-shot between Chance's legs. He waited awhile before he started his own stretching, as Chance's cut, flexing muscles and long, thick cock were too good a show to turn away from.

Reed came over to join them.

"I'm gonna hit it, Chance. You want to come over tonight and see the pics and plan the next part of our project?"

Chance chirped his agreement, feeling a little guilty at what seemed like cheating on Reed. Reed, who could read Chance's mood perfectly, didn't want Chance to have any regrets over the fun he and this other cut stud were about to have.

"Cool -- and hey, you two dudes have fun, OK?"

Chance smiled at him.

"Thanks! What time tonight?"

"How about 6, and we order a pizza?"

"Cool. See ya then."

Reed smirked knowingly -- and a little ruefully -- at the two hot jocks, then turned to go.

After a few more stretches, Brock realized the gym was now totally empty, so he was on Chance in a heartbeat. Soon the two boys were rolling on the mat, kissing each other with hot, hungry, open-mouthed passion, while their hands played roughly over each other's cur muscle and hardening cocks. They cooed and hummed in wordless lust through their mashed lips. Then Brock flipped around and pushed down Chance's singlet so he could get his mouth on Chance's straining cock; Chance mirrored his movements, as the two boys settled into a loud, lip-smacking session of sixty-nine to get them ready for the fun to come.

Brock let Chance's luscious cock out of his mouth long enough to sigh.

"Can't wait to feel this beauty in my ass!"

After more cock-sucking, neither boy wanting to cum too soon, they pulled off each other, aware that quite a bit of time had passed since practice ended. Chance cocked an eyebrow, and Brock gave the nod. Then both boys raced to their lockers.

As Brock had predicted, the locker room was empty. Never had either boy undressed faster, kicking off their wrestling boots and socks and ripping off their singlets. Brock beat Chance into the showers; he turned a few on to get the room all steamed up. In a few seconds, Chance's bare feet could be heard slapping on the concrete, as he approached. Brock let out an audible gasp as Chance's perfectly-muscled frame came into view. This object of some of his deepest fantasies this semester, now naked here for him to pleasure and be pleasured by: it was dizzying. His eyes raked down the cut curves of Chance's beautiful, firm torso, stopping to focus on that long, thick, still-hard cock, jutting up gloriously between his ripped, muscular quads as he walked through the shower-space towards him.

The boys embraced immediately, cocks pressing into each other and their hands moved fast and hard over each other's firm, wet, young flesh. They kissed hungrily through the light steam, the jets of water from the shower-heads sounding like the pulsating rush of each boy's heightened nerves. Brock pulled back to leer at Chance, grabbing both their hard cocks together in one hand and jacking them with a slow, sensuous rhythm. Chance sighed deeply.

"That feels so fucking nice, dude."

The boys just admired each other's hard bodies under the steamy spray as Brock continued to stroke the two of them. Brock loved the feel of the hard veins running all overChance's shaft. He traced his fingertips over them lightly. And then, like a visual rhyme, he noticed the gorgeous veins running all along Chance's upper and lower arms. They were irresistibly lickable. Chance luxuriated in the sensation as Brock traced his tongue up and down one of his arms, ending up slurping around sexily in his arm pit, which Chance gladly raised to give the boy access.

Chance couldn't wait to fuck his first piece of jock ass. His cock felt good being rubbed next to Brock's, but it was gonna feel a lot better, he knew, pumping in and out of this dude's tight hole.

Brock brought his head out from Chance's pit, kissed his lover passionately, then brought the boy's hands around to his ass, so his shower buddy could ready it for that dick. He let Chance work his hole as he studied the younger stud. His gaze dwelt on Chance's hips - how the water ran down his massive chest and hard abs, to the cut creases of flesh on either side of his waist, running over his hipbones, v'ing down towards that huge, now achingly stiff cock. God, was he a stud. They were both giddy with the thought of the sex to come, these two lusty horn-dogs, like randy colts after their workout earlier, pumped up and ready to shoot some seed.

Brock moaned in heat, his voice loud and raspy over the sound of the shower-spray.

"I been praying for weeks I'd get an ass-pounding from you, bro,"

"Well, prayer helps, my momma always says."

Brock cried out in deep bodily pleasure, as Chance worked one hand over his cock and balls and another continued to finger his hungry hole. Finally, he couldn't wait any longer.

"Let's get to it, stud! Fuck my ass, Chance! I gotta feel that big-ass dick of yours all up in my guts."

Chance turned Brock and pressed him against the shower well, rubbing his ass-cheeks sensually. He reached in, turned the older boy's face towards him, and gave him a steamy kiss.

"Fuck, I'm gonna enjoy this -- fuckin' such a hot, built stud as you."

"Me too, dude. Come on, man, I can't wait. Throw me the best fuck you can."

With his wet, soapy thumbs, Chance stretched Brock's pucker a bit more, making sure the boy was open enough, then he guided his huge, throbbing cock into the boy's hole. It slipped in slowly but surely, Brock pushing out and wiggling his ass back to help it in.

"Goddamn, are you big! And so fucking hard, it feels like a baseball bat in there! Feed me more, dude, I fuckin' love gettin' reamed by a big-dicked muscle-stud like you!"

Chance, meanwhile, was ecstatic. He didn't want to tip his hand that this was his first fuck, but he was absolutely blown away by the sensation. Damn! he thought, have I suddenly found my favorite thing in the world to do or what? The tight sensation of Brock's warm, moist hole on his dick was unbelievable. He plowed slowly in and out, savoring this incredible rush, but Brock cried out, urging him on.

"Harder, man! Faster! Deeper! Fucking pound me, man! Rip that ass up!"

What a dick-hound, Chance laughed to himself. OK, dude, you got it. He grasped Brock's ass tightly and began thrusting hard and fast.

"AW SHIT, YEAH! That's it, stud. Fucking ram me!"

More hard, fast thrusts, bottoming out each time. After a minute or so, he wedged his cock in, nestling his balls and pubic patch right up against Brock's ass, and kissed the gorgeous stud on the back of his neck a few times, stroking Brock's rippling back. Then he whispered in his ear.

"Deep enough for you stud?"

"Damn, Chance! What a huge fucking cock you have! It feels in-fucking-credible up there. Come on, man, ride me hard, I can take it. My ass has been dreaming for a pounding from you since the first time I saw you naked."

"I'm glad I can make your dream come true, bro."

With that Chance used his powerful, athletic hips to fuck Brock fast and furious. Both boys began grunting in pure animal pleasure. Chance kept one hand on Brock's ass, with the other he began to jack the boy, whose own hands were bracing himself against the shower walls to stabilize against the onslaught of Chance's powerful thrusting. It felt amazing, pounding a tight hole, fisting a thick cock, all the while feeling the shower spray rush over their hard, firm muscles. Brock was absolutely loving it, too.

"Oh yeah, man, so hot! Jack that fuckin' jock-cock, dude!"

The assault kept up for another couple of minutes, punctuated by hard grunts fromChance and ecstatic cries from Brock. Finally, Brock screamed he was cumming. The feel of that hot cream oozing out, bringing him the knowledge that his cocksmanship had gotten such a gorgeous hunk off, as well as those strong ass muscles clenching against his dick, was enough to send Chance, too, over the edge.

Before his dick erupted, he panted aloud to the boy.

"Dude, where d'you want my spunk?"

"Fill my ass, man! Wedge that big dick in, then shoot yer seed!"

So Chance rammed deep and pumped an enormous load into Brock.

Exhausted, he just leaned against Brock till both boys got their bearings back. Then Chance scooped some cream out of Brock's ass and fed it to the older boy.

"Mmmm, oh yeah! Have some too, bro. You earned it!"

Brock fingered himself and gave a dollop to Chance. They continued scooping and slurping and giggling till Brock's ass was as empty as they could make it. Brock gave him a long, hard, cum-drenched kiss before he left the shower, the kind of kiss two hard, hungry young dudes give each other after a vigorous, balls-out bout of athletic sex. When they broke the clench, Brock smiled, his beard-stubbled, cum-covered face breaking into a grin of sly delight.

"Dude, that was fucking awesome! I'd love to hook up a lot more like this if you're up for it."

Chance smiled back, still a little woozy.

"I think I can fit you in, dawg."

After drying off, they walked back to the lockers together, hands affectionately cupping each other's hard, naked asses. Chance hung out nude by Brock's locker, talking with the older boy as he dressed.

"Seriously, Chance, this has been my fantasy all term, gettin' dicked by you. Never dreamed it would happen, though. Hell, a lot of guys on the team are gonna be jealous as hell of me."

"How's that?"

"Aw shit, bro, you gotta know, you're the hottest stud in the locker room. Fuck, man, us gay dudes on the team, we all drool over you."

Chance squinted at him in disbelief.

"Then why'nt any of ya ever make a pass at me before?"

"Don't really know, man. It's like makin' a pass at the Marlboro Man or somethin,' I guess - you feel like there's not only no chance, but you're gonna get your ass kicked for askin'. Plus, we all thought you dated women. A couple guys saw you around campus with a chick."

Chance laughed sheepishly, thinking of the weeks he wasted on Andrea.

"Oh that. I was just seein' if I was bi."

"And?"

"Nope."

"Don't blame ya. Body this good deserves the best sex it can get. You're like a thoroughbred stallion that shouldn't be wasted in harness races."

Then Brock shot Chance a questioning look.

"You want me to tell the other gay studs on the team about this? I confess, I'd kinda like bragging rights to getting the first taste of your dick, but I warn you, when word of this gets around, you'll have more hot jock ass than you can handle."

Chance laughed, again thinking how quickly his life has changed.

"I don't know 'bout that, dude -- I'm so horny most days, I'm thinking I could handle quite a bit."

Brock reached over and stroked the boy's long thick tool lecherously.

"Hung stud like you? Why am I not surprised?"

"So sure, go ahead, kiss and tell. But say, who IS gay on the team, by the way?"

"Of the seniors, it's me and Alex; of the juniors, just Trey; the gay sophomores are Peter and Tor; and the freshmen into dudes are Danny and you. I mean, those are the ones I know about, at least. I'm willing to bet there's more. I mean, look at you -- you had everyone fooled."

Chance quickly did the math in his head -- damn, he thought, almost half the squad is gay! Awesome!

Then Brock dropped one more name.

"Oh, and Coach, of course."

"Coach? Seriously?"

Chance was only half-surprised, as he remembered that erotic little bicep curl lesson earlier.

"Hell, yes. He's never made a pass at any of us wrestlers or anything, but a couple of us see him and his boyfriend all the time at the clubs downtown. He smiles and winks, but always plays it cool here in the gym. He doesn't want to take advantage of his position or power, and you gotta respect that. But, fuck, I think he could have any stud on the team for the asking. His boyfriend is incredible. An ex-marine or something, like coach, only about ten years younger. He's probably only a couple years older than I am. Fucking gorgeous. Damn, would I like a three-way with those two some time."

"Jesus Fuck," was all Chance could say. The revelation of a very vibrant, previously unsuspected gay male underworld in the midst of what had before had just been ordinary life had his head swimming.

"OK, Chance. I'll spread the word. Prepare for more ass than a toilet seat."

"I'm stoked, man. The dudes you named are the best-lookin' guys on the team!"

As he said that, though, Chance realized there was one name above all others he was most keenly excited by: Coach Wyatt was hands-down the hottest man he'd ever seen - outside of his own daddy, of course.