Copyright by Marathon Brad, 2025, permission given to GayDemon to reprint this story. It may not be copied to another website without prior approval from the author.
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My good-looking teammate Carlos and I shared an off campus two-bedroom duplex apartment a few miles from downtown Philadelphia. Carlos had that classic Jersey edge, a strong, but not bulky, wrestling build, He also had a slightly hairy chest and legs. Carlos' warm olive skin hints at Mediterranean roots, and his dark curly black hair stuck to his forehead when he sweat, making him look even more intense on the mat. He carries himself with an effortless swagger, like he is always in control. On top of that, he has the kind of polished, very handsome charismatic look that would fit right into the singing group the Jersey Boys—sharp, stylish, and full of that hot sexual charm.
I had wrestled plenty of guys, but Carlos was different. Wrestling one weight class above me, at 165 lbs., he was not just tough—he was smart. He could read movements before they happened, always one step ahead. I have always enjoyed the warmth of his skin when we trained in our tight worn lycra wrestling singlets.
We had spent hours in the gym together, drilling moves, pushing each other harder. I still remembered the late nights, the empty wrestling room, just the two of us sparring on the mat. We had gotten to be very close teammates, but it had always been just that—practice, training, nothing more.
There had always been moments—small ones—that made me wonder. Like when Carlos would pin me down, his face just inches away and smile, “You are stuck, man,” he would tease, his breath warm against my soft skin. And me, too stubborn to admit defeat, would push back and wrestle harder, our bodies locked together on the mat.
We never talked about it. Never crossed a line. However sometimes, after an intense practice match, when we laid side by side on the mat catching our breath, Carlos would nudge my shoulder and say, “One day, roommate, we are going to figure this out.” I never asked what he meant as I believed, he already knew that I was attractive to guys.
I am going to miss training with Carlos. He is an one-of-a-kind friend and I was fortunate to have lived with him, and his hunk of a body, these past 12 months. I am also glad we had these last few weeks after graduation to live and spend together, but the hours were vanishing quickly for the two of us.
Our "move-out" departures times were different for the both of us. Carlos was leaving the apartment before me, starting a great job opportunity in New York City later this week. I was going to work for Mike at the Milk Me Company in Sydney, Australia, and did not need to leave until next week. We both were lucky to have Coach Franco coming over in a few days to help me finish cleaning and packing up the apartment.
Since the fundraiser party yesterday, not much was said between Carlos and me. I do not know if either one of us knew what to say about the way I was put on display and used by the many men attending the event. The only statement that Carlos expressed about the party was something he wrote on a piece of paper towel that he left on the kitchen counter for me to read this morning. With a red marker he wrote three words, "That Was HOT!"
I assumed that the note was written for my eyes to read. However, I left the paper towel laying in its spot all day, not wanting to bring any more attention to the slut I had become toward men using my body.
After a late afternoon run down to Broad Street and back, I began to rinse off my sweaty body in our beautiful marble tiled shower. With large glass panels surrounding three sides, my skin was enjoying the steamy hot water being sprayed down on me. I let my fingers slowly trace over my pecs, circling my brown pencil nipples before gliding down my define abs. Out of the corner of my eye I then noticed Carlos lingering and realized that he was watching every movement. He stood outside of the bathroom door that I left a jar; his dark eyes locked on me.
A deep breath left my lips as my fingers slid lower, teasing along the cut of my hips. The excitement between my legs stirred, and I did not fight it. My cock thickened in my palm as I wrapped my fingers around the growing length and girth, playing with my cock's head. I let out a moan, just loud enough for Carlos to hear.
I stroked my athletic cock, slow at first, savoring the slick sensation of water, and my own grip. My other hand roamed over my chest, every touch sending pleasure through me as I made sure the soap lather was all over me. I then moved that arm behind my head, fully exposing my arm pit. I arched my back just slightly, my muscles tightening, putting on the perfect show for Carlos as I jacked my cock and its knob. I moaned in pleasure as I was lost in lust with my body and putting on this fully stark-naked shower performance for Carlos.
Then, after about five minutes, I turned and faced away from my one-man audience. I wanted to show Carlos every inch of my exposed body. From his presence outside the door, I believed that Carlos wanted to see my complete bare body, as well.
I shifted under the water, bracing one hand against the tiled wall, giving Carlos a view of my muscular bubble butt—high, round, dripping wet. I knew what I had, and I was not afraid to show it off. I spread my legs to make sure he saw every inch of me. My free hand slid back, fingers teasing over my own skin, dipping lower, playing with myself in a way I never had before. I knew exactly what I was doing—letting Carlos see what was his for the taking this evening.
I continued to spread myself open. My fingertips were grazing over my own hole, feeling the heat there, the moisture of my pussy. A slow, teasing touch, not too much, just enough for Carlos. I arched my back more, pushing my ass out further, giving him a wonderful view. Although Carlos still had not moved, I had noticed that he had pushed the door wide open.
“Fuck,” I moaned, dragging my fingers over the tight ring of muscle, pressing just enough to send a shiver through me. I bit my lip, eyes closing shut for a moment as I worked myself open, not pushing in—just playing, teasing. I knew what I wanted as I glanced over my shoulder and teased Carlos, “You like what you see?”
Taking that as an invitation, Carlos, fully clothed, slowly stepped into the shower behind me. His chest brushing against my back, his mouth just inches from my ear. I could feel the electric energy shifting between us. Carlos ran a hand over my damp hair, his breath a quiet moan against my neck before he pressed his lips there. My body was then slowly turned back around by Carlos to face him.
I welcomed the sensation of Carlos mouth, the warmth of his kiss meshing with the hot water streaming down my body. He did not rush, taking his time as his lips traveled up to my jaw, then down again, across the column of my neck, and finally to my chest. His hands followed, tracing over my abs, feeling my muscles flex under his touch. I could feel Carlos everywhere, his presence filling the shower space.
As I continued to face him, my mouth finally found his lips as we engaged in a deep slow kiss. Our bodies pressed together, the slick heat of the water making our skin slide against each other. I pulled back just enough to look Carlos in the eyes, and that’s when I saw it—the hunger, the same desire that was burning inside me. Tonight, I wanted to be The Chosen Jock for Carlos.
I reached for his soaked shirt, fingers trembling slightly as I pulled it over his head. My hands moved to his shorts next, working them down, exposing more of his toned legs. His body was just as strong, just as defined as mine---his chest, his abs, his thick thighs—all beautifully hard.
Without breaking eye contact, I sank to my knees, letting the water splash over me as I looked up at Carlos. My hands slid over his muscular thighs, feeling every inch of his strength. Then, without hesitation, I took Carlos thick erect cock into my mouth and began to savor his precum.
Carlos’ cock was hard, everything I imagined and more. As I opened my mouth wider, I moved down, sucking him deep, my tongue swirling around the base before pulling up again. I loved the way Carlos felt—every inch of him, the taste of his skin mixing with the water.
I could hear him moan, his hands threading through my wet hair, guiding and urging me on. I found a way to take Carlos even deeper as my throat worked him in and out. We were two very horny twenty-two-year-old males lost in lust and heat.
Finally, Carlos softly said something.
“I love that you are athletic guy who enjoys being a slut, Brad. You were a slut for all those men at the fundraiser. Now I want you to be my jock boy slut tonight,” Carlos quietly demanded. His voice was thick with lust.
I moaned the word "Yes" around his cock. I wanted to be his for this night. I wanted to be the one he took, the one he treasured and appreciated. Everything about me screamed for this moment as one of our last few evenings together was going to be etched into our memories.
Carlos’ strong hands rested on my shoulders, his touch, firm yet deliberate, as he slowly pulled me up off my knees. My lips open, and before I could catch my breath, his mouth claimed mine in another deep romantic kiss. His tongue swept past my lips, taking control, exploring, tasting me like he had been craving this moment all year long. My warm wet body melted against Carlos.
Carlos turned off the shower water, guided me slowly toward the open bathroom door, and led me into his bedroom. Water dripped from our bodies onto the floor, but neither of us cared. My heart pounded, my hard cock already aching, knowing what we were about to enjoy together.
His bedroom lights were brightly lit as if we were on a stage with spot lights. To add to the setting, the downtown Philadelphia City lights filtered through the partly open patio doors. The curtains swayed gently in the night breeze, but Carlos did not appear to be bothered to close them. He wanted me bare, exposed for all his glory to view. I was his slut, finally.
Carlos turned to face me, his dark eyes locking onto mine as he stepped in close. His hands found my waist, sliding them back to grab my ass, kneading it before pulling me against his body. His hard pre cum leaking cock was pressing into my stomach, teasing me with what was to come.
“You want this, don’t you?” Carlos said, his voice a low whisper against my ear.
I nodded, breathing heavily. “Yeah. I want to be your boy tonight.”
A small smile tugged at his lips as Carlos turned me away, pushing me down and pressing my chest against the bed. Through the opened door, I then heard the rustle of people moving outside by the pool. They did not say a word, but they do not need to. The thought of them seeing me like this, spread out, moaning for Carlos, only made me hornier. The scene was so erotic.
Carlos then told me to stay in this position on the bed for him as I saw him leaving his bedroom. After about twenty seconds he returned and placed around my neck the same white bow tie I wore when I was the server at the fundraiser. He must have found the tie laying on my bedroom floor where I left it when I was given permission to leave after the coaches fucked me at the end of the party. I was so horned up when Coach Franco and Coach Cooper had their way with me to end my serving duties.
"This white bow tie looked so hot on you yesterday, Brad," said Carlos. "I was hoping we would find an opportunity of you wearing the tie again while you were in the apartment with me these last few days."
Carlos ran his hands over my back, down to my ass, spreading my hole open like I did in the shower for him a few moments ago. I barely had time to prepare before Carlos warm, wet tongue dragged over my pink pussy lips. A shiver ran through me as he slowly licked, teasing circles before pressing deeper into my moist hole. I gasped, grabbing at the bed sheets as he worked me open, his hands squeezing my ass as he tried to spread me wider.
“Fuck, Carlos,” I moaned, pressing back against his face.
His tongue then pushed inside my hole, wet and deep, stretching me, getting me ready. He licked my male cunt over and over, allowing me to enjoy the pleasure. My cock throbbed, dripping and leaking pre cum, aching for more as he kept going, his breath hot against my skin. Carlos groaned as he ate me out, his tongue moving in slow, wet strokes that made my body shake. And then to add to the scene, he moved one hand between my two legs to jack my cock.
As he kept me on the edge, I could not help but remember when our neighbors, baseball players Nico and Robbie, split roasted me by the pool a few days ago. The two had asked to rub suntan lotion onto my body. The memory flashed in my mind, how they had filled me up, stretching me wide. I had begged for it, loved every second of it. The way they had worked together, their hands on me, taking me like they owned me. I was now moaning, thinking about them, about how much I wanted to be used like that again. And at this moment, Carlos was the one in control.
When he finally pulled back and his tongue out, I felt empty, desperate to have him inside me. I turned my head, my voice shaky with need, “Please, Carlos. Fuck me.”
Carlos did not make his favorite jock boy wait as he stood up from his knees and sat himself on the bed next to me. Carlos then reached over, grabbed my waist and pulled me onto his lap, his thick cock pressing against my hole. I was encouraged to spread my legs, placing my feet on the bed, one on each side of him. I slowly sank down onto him. My hole easily parted, a deep moan spilling out as he stretched me wide.
“Take it, Brad,” he whispered, gripping my hips as I got used to his size.
I started moving, bouncing on his cock, riding him harder with every drop of my hips. His cock hit deep, sending more waves of pleasure through me. Carlos groaned, squeezing my hips tight, matching each bounce with his own thrusts. The sound of skin slapping filled the air, mixing with my moans. This was a replay of how Jirko, the handsome Eastern European man, had me fuck myself on his cock at the fundraiser.
My hard cock bounced up and down, left and right as I was fucked.
Outside, I could continue to hear the faint sounds of two men whispering. I recognize the quiet voices to be Nico and Robbie. I could see through the darkness two figures that appeared to be watching and filming with their phones near the pool. I felt their eyes on me, cameras lit, taking in every intimate moment, every inch of my athletic body as Carlos fucked me. They were quiet, but I knew they were there. The thought made my wrestling cock throb harder.
After several minutes of me fucking myself on Carlos's jock cock, he appeared not to be finished of using my body for his joy. Carlos next lifted my thighs, turned my body and laid me onto my upper back and shoulders. I was told to pull my legs into the air near my head, spreading my legs wide. Carlos hovered over me; his dark eyes locked onto mine as he pushed his hard wet slicked cock inside my hole again. My hands gripped his shoulders as he started fucking me deep again, each thrust sending sparks of desire through my body. I threw my head back, crying out, lost in the way he took me.
“You love being my wrestling slut, don’t you?” he moaned, grabbing my legs and pushing them higher, fucking me even deeper. "Tonight, it's my turn to own your hot body, Brad," said Carlos.
I could not speak. I could only moan, my body shaking as he fucked me just the way I needed. Carlos and I had nowhere to go this evening. We had plenty of time for Carlos to use my body to please both of us.
After what seemed like forever, Carlos pulled his cock out of my newly well-used hole. I was then lifted one last time and moved toward the patio doors by my current lover. My breath caught as he opened my arms and legs wide and pressed my hands onto the cool patio door glass. Like a mirror, my reflection off the window stared back at me—flushed face cheeks, opened mouth, sweat matted hair, my cock continuing to be rock hard and dripping. My white bow tie shouted out in its own special way of how slutty I was made to feel when I wore the tie.
Then I felt my strong, masculine roommate behind me, his thick “Jersey Boy” cock rubbing between my ass cheeks before he pushed inside again. I let out a moan, my forehead resting against the glass as
he filled me up. I brought my back inward even more to allow my ass to really stick out and welcome Carlos's cock.
I knew that Nico and Robbie were still out there, watching. Filming. Taking pictures as they captured every angle of Carlos fucking me. I could feel them, their eyes locked onto me, even as their cameras filmed away. The thought of them watching, seeing every inch of my naked body stretched open and filled with my roommate, made me crave even more.
As the city was stretching far and wide outside, inside nothing else mattered except Carlos. He grabbed my hips, pulling me back into him as he fucked me deep, my cock bouncing with every hard thrust. My body's sexual pleasure built fast, rushing through me as my whole body was begging to shoot a load of cum from my untouched cock soon.
Finally, I gasped as I began to have an intense orgasm. My cock twitched, shooting thick white creamy ropes onto the door glass as I cried out. My whole body shook as I came hard, lost in the moment.
"Yeah, Jock Boy, let your cum fly out of you. Fucking Hot to watch your cock shoot," shouted Carlos. "What would your teammates think if they saw you being fucked and used by men?"
Almost like it was planned for me to shoot first, Carlos then groaned behind me, slamming in one last time before spilling deep inside me, filling me up. Through my whimper, I begged for him to remain in me for a bit before pulling out. I loved having Carlos's hard, strong cock inside me. I loved being his wrestling boy slut for this evening. I smiled into the glass as I knew the night was still young.
For a moment, the only sounds were our heavy breathing and the city buzzing in the background. But then, from the darkness by the pool, I was reminded. Nico and Robbie had been watching, filming. Their flashes had lit in sharp bursts as they captured our individual ejaculation moments. Two horny wrestling jocks. I felt their eyes on us, their almost silent presence only making the whole scene more erotic. And that only made it hotter.
Author is Brad
My email address is [email protected].
I am enjoying the opportunity of sharing my thoughts with my readers of this story.
I appreciate the men that have sent me emails to share their horny thoughts about The Chosen Jock, I love making men excited whether through reading my erotic stories, watching me workout in my skin tight gear at the gym, showing off on line or dancing on a stage.
